Hey guys, this is my follow-up story to 'Use Me'. I really recommend you read that fic first because I refer back to scenes in there during this story that might be confusing (and also because Use Me has some super hot sexy times between Daryl and Beth in it!)

I originally decided against posting this because my little heart was smashed into a million pieces when I saw Beth's brain leave her skull on my HD 60-inch TV a few weeks ago (I am still emotionally scarred) but then I thought "meh wtf" and decided to start posting this one up anyway.

Hopefully this will fulfil the fantasies for those of you who wish Daryl had tapped dat ass on top of the kitchen table back in Season 4 (which was my motivation to write Use Me, if I say so myself!)

Blah blah blah I don't own anything.

Beth stared at her reflection in the dusty mirror as she braided her hair, her skinny fingers expertly sweeping the strands of hair back from her face and fastening them with an elastic band, swinging it over her shoulder when she was finished. She stared at the girl in front of her one last time, her blue eyes meeting those of her identical twin for a moment before she blinked.

She was reminded of that childhood game she used to play with Maggie during the long school holidays on the farm. Mirrors, it was called. Someone would be the person and the other would be the reflection. The reflection had to copy the person as best they could: their facial expressions, their hand movements, their silly dance routines. The game was always judged by their brother and would always end in fits of laughter.

Beth's stomach ached at the memory of her family. Even the sound of Maggie's laughter was fading from memory too quickly, the glimmer in her eyes a distant memory that was blurred and scratched as though it were from a different life.

She faintly remembered a childhood tragedy, her first pet - a hamster named Charlie - who she'd found dead one Sunday morning after church. She'd cried for hours, refusing to allow Hershel to get rid of the lifeless mop of fur. Only Maggie had been able to calm her down. She remembered her sister's face before her tear-soaked eyes, her warm hands encasing her own with such gentleness. "Don't cry, Bethy. Sometimes we have to say goodbye to the people we love. But they never really leave us. Charlie can look down on you from heaven every day now. Doesn't that sound better than living his life in that little old cage?"

Maggie Greene had been the first person to teach Beth about death. She had never imagined that one day she'd lose Maggie, too.

Her eyes prickled with tears which she hurried to wipe away when she heard Daryl's throat-clearing cough from the doorway of their room.

"What you thinking about?" Daryl could be rightly accused of being many things, but unobservant was not one of them. Perhaps it was the tracker in his blood, or maybe he just knew Beth far too well, but he was always able to pick up on her most hidden emotions, regardless of how fake a smile she plastered on her face.

"Nothing. Just remembered something from when Maggie and I were kids, that's all," she shrugged it off, determined to put on her bravest face.

He didn't attempt to probe her any further which Beth was always grateful for. That was another of Daryl's strengths - he knew when to ask questions and when to be silent. She heard his footsteps approach her before his arms wrapped around her body, pulling her tight to him and filling her with warmth. They stayed that way for a moment, two people coiled so tightly together they were almost inseparable.

"I just got back from a run, I found coffee. You want some?" he finally whispered into her ear as he pulled back.

"Oh yes. That sounds like heaven," her smile turned to a shriek of surprise as he bent over and scooped her over his shoulder. He laughed deep in his throat at her squeal as he descended the stairs, taking advantage of her scantily clad bottom being right next to his face as he playfully sank his teeth into the top of her thigh.

"Daryl! Stop!" the laughter that choked her reply seemed to diffuse the seriousness of her statement as he deposited her on the kitchen counter. A pot of water was already boiling on the stovetop as Daryl reached for the jar of instant coffee that was surprisingly still in date. He shuddered to think of what kind of preservatives were used to allow coffee to survive a zombie apocalypse.

"Ferrara? Gross!" Beth wrinkled her nose at the familiar label on the glass jar.

"Beggars can't be choosers, my love," Daryl teased, spooning the instant coffee into two mugs before topping them up with boiling hot water. Despite the scent being less than appetising, his mouth still watered at the idea of coffee.

Beth took her cup with trepidation.

"I hope you don't take milk or sugar with your coffee, because we have neither," she giggled, sipping at the bitter brew and allowing it to warm her from the inside out.

"Oh, I have some sugar," Daryl replied, leaning in for a kiss, one hand stroking down the side of her face as their lips moved together in a familiar dance.

"Yep, tastes so fucking sweet," he groaned as he pulled back from her. He didn't miss the way that her eyes darkened with arousal at his words, nor how her legs opened wider around his hips so he could slide closer between them as she sat on the kitchen counter.

"Come on, drink up before it gets cold and possibly worse-tasting than it already is," he pushed the cup towards her but remained between her thighs, his hips maintaining a few inches of space between their bodies.

She obediantly took the cup of coffee he offered and took a few gulps, the burning liquid blazing a trail of fire down her throat until it hit her empty stomach.

"Good girl. Feeling more awake now?" his voice was like velvet in her ear. His hands took the cup from her, setting it on the counter out of reach before reaching for her hips to stop her from wriggling her body closer to his.

"Kiss me," she breathed, recoiling a little at the intensity of his gaze.

He complied, albeit much more chaste than she would have liked. His lips grazed against hers for a mere moment before he pulled back with a smug grin on his face.

"Happy?"

She let out a frustrated mewl that only escaped her when she wanted to turn him on, to make him see what he reduced her to.

"More. Please."

She knew the magic word.

He leant towards her again, letting her fingers run through his hair and pull him closer to her, their lips battling for dominance and her hips wriggling madly towards his, eager for contact and pressure and friction and pleasure. He sighed, releasing her hips and letting her do what she wanted. He could not contain the groan that spilled from his lips as she began grinding against him, her thin cotton panties already visibly soaked and gyrating teasingly against the top of his jeans.

"Goddamn, woman. You make me crazy, you know that?" he grumbled into the sweet skin of her neck, his fingers deftly undoing the braid and twisting his fingers through her hair, pulling her head backwards to expose more of her delicious neck for him to taste. She shivered under his ministrations, her hands squirreling their way under his shirt to slide against his hot skin, the soft hairs on his chest, the scars that ran along his back.

"Hmmm, I love you," she replied softly, loving the sensation of his lips brushing over her skin.

"I'm gonna show you how much I love you," he mumbled into the skin of her neck, causing goosebumps to spread over her flesh.

She heard knocking.

"What was that?"

"I said I'm gonna sh-"

"No, Daryl. I heard knocking," she breathed. He paused momentarily to inspect the silence of the house.

"It's just walkers, Beth. Now bring this sweet ass over here," he smirked, his fingers crawling up her thighs in a way which made her writhe beneath him.

"Walkers don't knock!" she pushed at his shoulders at the exact time that another round of knocking occured, this time louder than the last. She could hear voices as well, hushed and hurried and not clearly audible.

"Shit!" He pulled away from her so fast she almost slid off the counter, grabbing his crossbow from the kitchen table and loading it up with a bolt.

"Stay here, okay? Grab a knife or somethin'" he whispered before stalking towards the front door. Never one to actually listen to a direct command, she followed him loyally, remaining behind his broad shoulders, clutching a knife protectively in her hands as he approached the door.

Another round of knocking rattled the plate glass in the front door, Beth's eyes squinting to make out the form standing on the porch.

"Is anyone in there? Please! Open the door!" came a female voice from the other side of the door. It sounded frail and hoarse like she'd been screaming for hours.

"Are you alone?" Daryl called back, his arm swinging out to prevent Beth from stepping in front of him.

"No, no. Please. It's my husband. He's hurt. We need help, please!" the voice sounded uplifted, pleading, desperate for a last chance at survival.

"He been bit?" came Daryl's sharp reply.

"No. I promise. You can check us both for bites. We're clean. Please, let us in. We've just escaped a group of Walkers-"

Beth gasped out loud, her intake of breath catching Daryl's attention. His eyes turned to meet hers briefly, to see the glimmer of hope that shone in her eyes.

"She called them Walkers," Beth murmured. Daryl felt his pulse throbbing in his carotid artery. Of all the groups he'd come across since the world went to shit, he'd heard many derogative terms for the vicious creatures that populated the earth. Rotters. Biters. Stinkers. Corpses. Zombies. Deadheads. But only one group of people had ever referred to the undead as Walkers.

"She called them Walkers!" Beth suddenly screamed, her hand grabbing the front of Daryl's shirt and shaking him.

"Beth?"

The voice behind the door, once unsure and frightened, suddenly throbbed with hope and raw emotion.

Beth let out an almost inhuman strangled yelp, diving towards the door and struggling to open all of the locks Daryl had installed, her fingers clumsy and useless in her desperation. Daryl moved forward, pushing her aside gently as he flicked open each lock and pulled open the front door.

WHO'S BEHIND DAT DOOR THO?

Please please please with a naked Norman Reedus on top REVIEW :P