Chapter Text
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This morning is starting just like every other morning, Beth never seems to learn. She wakes up and makes herself a cup of tea, and gosh, it's so early. She has lots of time before she has to start getting ready for work. Plenty of time to do other things.
She really should do something productive or creative with all this extra time. Read. Reading is good. She has a classic Jane Austen novel she just checked out of the library and reading it would be a very positive use of her time. She takes her cup of tea and the book and settles into her super comfy overstuffed chintz chair. Ah yes, perfect.
She does have to get to work so she's very responsible. She limits herself to reading just one chapter, savoring every word she reads. She sighs as she reluctantly closes her book, looks at the clock and thinks, gosh, there's still a lot of time. She waters the flowers in her window box and makes her bed. Then, well of course she has to check social media to see what her sister Maggie, brother Shawn and some of her old friends are up to. She even leaves a comment or two to be polite.
Suddenly she realizes she's starving. She makes a small breakfast of oatmeal and fruit and commends herself for making healthy choices. She also packs herself a nice nutritious lunch, salad and fruit. She's feeling quite proud of herself.
She casually glances over at the clock and oh my gosh, what happened?! It's already eight o'clock!
Now she's in full panic mode. She dashes around the small studio apartment like a maniac. Of course, when she's in a hurry nothing goes right. Her eyeliner won't do what it should be doing, her hair is a complete disaster, and just to top things off a major struggle ensues between her and her necklace when she tries to fasten the clasp. Her bracelet acts just as stupid as her necklace.
As if all of that isn't bad enough, now she can't find her keys. She nearly breaks down in tears just before she finally locates them in the pocket of the jacket she wore yesterday. Why doesn't she ever just hang them on the little key holder by the front door? Wouldn't that be easier?
Now it's 8:40am and she's supposed to be at her desk and ready to work promptly at 9am. Oh Beth, not again. Great, just great. Carol, her boss, has tried to be patient with her but she's made it clear her patience has run out. Beth doesn't blame Carol at all, she's tired of this lateness herself.
She races out of her apartment to her designated parking spot and realizes she forgot her glasses. She runs back in the house for those, starts to walk back out the door, remembers her lunch and finally makes it back to the car.
She really has to hurry now. If everything goes just right, if she makes every single light, she'll still be late but hopefully not too late.
If she happens to lean on the gas pedal a tiny bit harder than usual maybe she can shave off a little more time.
She's zipping down Madison like a bat out of hell when she sees his lights in her rearview mirror. Oh no! At least he hasn't turned his siren on, that would be way too embarrassing. She pulls over to the side of the road yelling at herself again, in her mind, while continuing to focus on the motorcycle cop in her rearview mirror.
Hmm, if a girl has to get in trouble with the cops, this particular motorcycle cop is the one to pick. Wow. Just watching him get off the big Harley is pretty darn...yeah...wow. He starts walking toward her car and she may never get over that walk. It's a sexy kind of pigeon-toed swagger and the closer that cop gets the better he looks. Beth is making a bet with herself as to whether the sleeves on his shirt will survive the obviously difficult task of containing his giant biceps. Maybe, or they might just bust wide open from the strain. She'd like to see that. Oh my gosh, and he looks so handsome. Yum. Double yum.
She catches herself wishing he'd take off those mirrored glasses so she could see his eyes, darn, but when he gets to her window and begins to speak she's forced back to reality. This is not a good thing, "Mornin' Miss, I need to see your license and registration please."
She tries a big friendly smile as she hands him the documents, maybe he'll be extra nice and give her a little break. Then he asks, "Do you know why I pulled you over this mornin' Miss?"
"Um, gee, I'm not sure, was I going a little too fast?" Obviously, she needs to practice making up stories.
"Nah you weren't goin' a little too fast Miss, you were goin' way too fast. I clocked you at 15 miles an hour over the speed limit."
Beth's words come rushing out, "I'm really, really sorry officer it's just that I'm late for work and I'm afraid I'm going to be fired. Oh my gosh, you can't believe the morning I've had, everything went wrong. I couldn't find my keys, I couldn't get my eyeliner on straight, I couldn't get my dang hair to do what I wanted it to do, and I didn't mean to go so fast I was just trying to hurry. Please don't give me a ticket." She realizes she's been talking too fast because that's about the time she runs out of breath.
His expression doesn't change. "I'm sorry you're havin' a bad day Miss, but the law's the law. I clocked you with the gun and called in your plate, I can't let you off even if I wanted to."
She looks at the name tag pinned to his uniform, "Please Officer Dixon, please just one chance."
Shit, if only she knew how many times a day he gets asked that, he can't though, he really can't. "I'm sorry you're in trouble at work Miss Greene, but there ain't nuthin' I can do. Wait right here, I'll be back."
She can't help herself; she has to watch him in her rearview as he swaggers back to his motorcycle to get the ticket book. She wonders why she's never noticed motorcycle cops wear such formfitting pants, and those calf-hugging knee-high black leather boots. Sigh. He's one fine looking cop, that's a fact.
No but he's mean, right? Yes, mean. He could give her one little chance. She wants to hate this man so badly, but she can't even muster up a mild dislike for him.
At first all Daryl could see was her blond hair; he never got a real good look at her until he walked up to her car window. She's a beauty, that's for sure. That crazy blond hair, man, a guy could spend a lot of time playing with that hair. And those big bright blue eyes are so sweet and innocent looking, and also plenty sexy. Then there's her smile. Damn, that smile is killer.
She's funny too. He knows she didn't mean to be, but shit, it was all he could do to keep a straight face. That girl talks as fast as she drives. He does feel kind of bad for her and he'd sort of like to give her a break. That's just weird. He wonders where the hell that feeling comes from. He never balks at giving anyone a ticket. If they break the law they deserve to be ticketed, period. But yeah, she somehow seems a little bit different than everyone else.
He isn't supposed to be thinking these thoughts about violators; he's a professional for crissake. Shit, why couldn't he have met this woman some other way? Maybe he could have asked her out. He can't now, it wouldn't be professional. Then he chides himself, "Yeah, like ya got the balls ta ask a woman like her out Dixon." Pfft
He returns to her car and hands her the ticket book and a pen, "When you sign the citation you ain't admittin' guilt, you're just acknowledgin' you received the ticket and you'll take care of it. The court date is there on the ticket and you can fight it if ya want. Otherwise you can send your money in, pay at the courthouse, or even go online and use a credit card."
Shit, she looks so sad and her eyes are all watery and he's afraid she might start crying. He's had lots of folks cry, men and women both, but this doesn't look like fake drama or like a person who's just trying to get out of a ticket. She looks downright pitiful, and dammit, it's making him feel bad.
He doesn't owe her an apology but he feels compelled to tell her, "If you don't want that ticket on your record or making your insurance go up you can agree to go to traffic school. They even have it online." He chews at his lip and says, "I'm sorry Miss Greene, I hope everythin' goes okay at work, I really do."
Beth nods her head slightly while admitting, "It's not your fault officer, it's mine." She sniffles as she hands him back the ticket book, puts her license in her wallet and the ticket in her purse.
Officer Dixon feels like an asshole.
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It's Friday evening, three weeks after the ticket incident and Beth's waiting patiently for her friend Amy to arrive at Smugglers. They made this date to meet for drinks last Monday, and Beth's really been looking forward to it. They have some catching up to do. The bartender just brought her glass of wine over when a text pops up on her phone, it's from Amy, "I can't believe it Beth! Caesar finally called and asked me out. I couldn't say no. He's on his way now. Sorry. I hope you have fun tonight."
Seriously? Well, at least now she knows the level of importance she holds in Amy's life. Apparently she's a notch below random guys looking to get lucky. Swell. She won't be making plans with Amy again.
That decision doesn't do her much good right now. For now she's just trying to decide whether to stand here at the bar all alone drinking her glass of wine or, set the glass down and go home. If she goes home she can call and order a pizza, put on her favorite jammies and read a good book. Yeah, she could do that, just like she does every Friday night.
Darn, this Friday was supposed to be different.
She's just taking a second sip from her glass when she sees him come walking in. He's out of uniform but that doesn't matter, she'd recognize that swagger anywhere, and he looks even better than she remembered. He's wearing jeans, a tight black t-shirt and a leather jacket. Gosh, it doesn't seem possible, he's even more handsome without the helmet and the mirrored glasses.
That blond hair draws his eyes right to it and damn if she isn't looking at him, and she's smiling! Even though he's nervous about approaching her the smile gives him courage. He takes a deep breath and walks over to her.
"Hey there Miss Greene, how ya doin'? Did everythin' go alright with the job?"
Beth can't believe he remembers her story, he must meet lots of people every day and he's probably heard a million stories. She can't help herself, she starts talking fast again, "Hello Officer Dixon, yes it all worked out. I'm going to traffic school and I'm doing so much better at being organized in the morning, and please, call me Beth."
He flashes a small slightly crooked grin and wonders if she ever talks slow. "Nice ta see you under more pleasant circumstances Beth, I'm Daryl."
About that time the bartender walks over and Daryl orders himself a bottle of Bud and her another glass of wine. When the bartender walks off to get their drinks she tells him, "Oh my gosh Daryl, if I drink two glasses of wine I'll be drunk and you'll be arresting me for that!"
He almost never laughs out loud but there's just something about this girl. She's so cute and funny. "Well don't worry, if I think you're too drunk I'll just give ya a ride home, how's that?" He doesn't know how she's going to feel about that because, shit, he never expected to make the offer. It just seemed to come naturally.
Suddenly she's feeling very grateful to Amy for putting Caesar and his last minute invitation ahead of their plans. "Okay then, it's a deal."
It hasn't even gotten started yet the evening is already going so much better than either of them could have imagined.
"Ya wanna get a table or sumthin Beth?" He can't believe himself. He's acting like he knows what he's doing, like he's comfortable with this stuff. It's got to be her. She isn't like anyone he's ever met. Everything about her is just so…well just so right. Nothing phony, nothing put on. She's just herself.
She's surprised to have this handsome man showing interest in her. Gosh, with those looks and that build he could have just about any woman he wants. Then again, she's picked up on something. Somewhere under the surface Officer Dixon seems a little shy, a little nervous and kind of awkward. It wasn't that way when he gave her the ticket. He was all-business and completely self-assured on the job.
"So what is it you do Beth? Ya know, your work n all."
"I'm the front desk person at a real estate office. I greet clients, answer the phones, make phone calls for the agents, type up paperwork, file paperwork, all that secretarial stuff." She smiles and shrugs, "I guess compared to riding a motorcycle all day my job sounds really boring."
He smiles back, "Well if it needs to get done and you like doin' it, and the pay is alright then its good work. For me, I just need ta be outside."
"Is that why you became a motorcycle policeman?"
He shrugs, "I never really thought about what I was gonna do with my life. Out of high school I just took jobs here and there to get by. Followed my older brother's lead. Then my brother managed to get himself in some big trouble and that's when a buddy of mine, a guy I knew from high school who became a sheriff's deputy, suggested it. Truth is, he kinda pressed me."
"I never had much in the way of good experiences with cops myself, and that brother of mine spends as much time in jail as out. But I'd never been arrested and I didn't have a record so I figured what the hell, why not get paid to ride a bike. I applied."
He can't believe he's spilling damn near his whole life story this way but she's so easy to talk to, "Anyway, I did the training and found out I liked the freedom of bein' on the road on a bike all day, and I really didn't mind the work. I guess you saw that I'm a kind of a cut n dry person, if ya done it ya done it, no gray areas. That makes things easier for me, but I'm real sorry I had to give you a citation. I didn't want to." He smiles sheepishly.
"I was never mad at you over the ticket Daryl. I knew it was my own fault."
He swallows the last of his beer but things are going so well he doesn't want the evening to end. Then again, he's a cop. He never has more than one beer if he's driving, he won't risk losing his job. He takes another deep breath, "Can I buy ya dinner? There's a nice place just around the corner, we could walk to it. Unless ya already have plans."
He has some issues when it comes to people, especially women. He feels awkward and he gets all tongue tied, except when he's on the job. There's something about putting on the uniform and being Officer Dixon that gives him confidence. Yet here he is with this woman he barely knows and he feels relaxed around her, like he can be himself.
Her heart starts thumping, oh my gosh, this is real. This big handsome cop wants to continue their evening. It's more than she dared to hope for, "Oh, um sure, that sounds nice, thank you. My only plan was to go home and order pizza, but dinner out with you sounds so much nicer." Her cheeks are the color of cherries and he's pretty sure his neck is too.
"That's how my night was gonna go too, pizza, a six pack and the Outdoor Channel on TV. I'd much rather have supper with you." He can't believe how those words just come right out, or how glad he is that they do.
As they leave Smuggler's he lets the back of his hand graze along the back of hers and then it happens, their hands join and their fingers weave together and it feels so right.
Once they're seated in the small restaurant he asks her, "Ya got a Georgia accent but you don't sound like a city girl. Are you from here in the Atlanta area?"
"No, you're right. I'm a country girl, born and raised on a farm just outside King County, over near Wiltonburg."
"So ya just wanted to live the city life, huh?"
She looks to him with a smile and shakes her head side to side, "I thought it sounded so glamorous, and there's not much work where I grew up, unless you're on the farm or you own one of the three businesses in town. So, I decided to take some secretarial classes and try my luck in the big city."
"Have ya ever thought you might wanna get outta the city?"
"Oh yes, I think that all the time. I just haven't figured out how to make it work yet, I mean short of going home to Mama and Daddy and I'm determined not to do that. Not that I don't love them, it's just that it's time for me to be on my own."
They take their time over dinner, neither of them is in a hurry for the evening to end. There are more looks and shy smiles than there is conversation and they're both quite content with that. They're simply enjoying their time together.
When the meal ends he musters the courage to suggest, "Lemme give you a ride home Beth. I don't want you in trouble cuz I gave you too much wine. I don't have my pickup though, I'm on my motorcycle."
"Oh, well okay. I think I would love that. I've always wondered what it's like to ride on a motorcycle."
There's a slight problem, he only has the one helmet, "You take it, we ain't goin' that far and it's better if I'm the one at risk. I'll be goin' slow and lookin' out and it'll be fine." He smiles and gently bumps her shoulder with his, "If I get pulled over we'll see if I have any better luck talkin' myself out of a citation than you did." They laugh together and out of the blue he takes her in a one arm hug, looks into her eyes and says, "I was sorry I pulled ya over that mornin', but I ain't sorry now."
When they get to her place he walks her to the door and hopes like hell she'll invite him in, so he's stoked when she smiles and asks, "Would you like to come in for a minute, you can see the whole place in about 20 seconds, that's how big it is."
She wasn't kidding, it's just a small studio apartment but she does have it fixed up real cozy and feminine. Shit, and there's her bed right there in the corner. Oh man, he'd like to stay, but nah, that's a little too tempting and he's not going to push it. Not with her.
He lays his hands gently on her shoulders and his voice has a nervous quiver when he says, "Whatever time ya want me to, that's when I'll be by ta get you in the morning, ya know, to get your car." He draws in a deep breath and mentions something else, "I was thinkin' maybe, if you wanted, we could drop your car off back here and take a bike ride. There's a lake I know not too far outta town, but man, it seems like it's a million miles away from the city. I'd sure like to show it to you. So, yeah, if ya wanted to go, we could."
She hasn't stopped smiling, "I would want to very much, and I can be ready at nine unless that's too early or too late. Except...well the only thing is I want you to have a helmet too, so you're safe. You can't just go around breaking the law Officer Dixon. Maybe we can stop at the store and I'll buy myself one."
"Nine sounds just right and don't worry, I'll be here for you with two helmets."
That's when Officer Dixon acts on his feelings, leaning in and giving her a soft kiss. "Thanks for goin' to dinner with me Beth Greene, I'll see ya in the mornin'."
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