**A/N: I would just like to state, for the record, that this was just supposed to be quick smut. All the plot and emotions that started to happen, you can blame on Bethyl. I mean it's all their fault really, can't even have some naughty smut without falling for each other.

ANYWAY, this chapter is intended to kind of set up some backstory and show that maybe this whole thing that's between them wasn't so spur-of-the-moment, and has been brewing a bit longer than they realized. (Also there's smut, of course, but with some fluff mixed in.)

The first time Beth had worn his leather jacket, it had been accidental- at least, according to her. He'd come back from a run with Zach where he'd let the kid drive, and accidentally left his leather jacket in the backseat, having stripped it off after running from a small herd of walkers got him all sweaty. A half hour later, after helping to unload the supplies they'd gotten (not the best haul but not the worst, since it had finally included some more formula for Lil' Asskicker), Daryl had remembered the jacket and gone to fetch it.

But when he'd made his way outside and towards the car, he'd spotted the jacket in the last place he'd expected it; draped on the slender form of little Beth Greene. She was standing beside the car with her back to him, apparently looking out over the grounds past the fence. The leather jacket came down below her ass, and her jean-clad legs stretched out from under it, far longer than they frankly had a right to be considering how short she was.

"Thought you were supposed to be the good sister," Daryl had drawled as he came up behind her, "You gettin' into stealin' now, Greene?"

When she'd whirled towards him, he realized she'd been clutching the jacket close to her chest, fingers curling into the lapels to bring it up to her chin. For a second he'd wondered if she'd been breathing in the scent of it, the combination of old leather and what he knew was probably his own smell, cigarettes, sweat and dirt and a hint of blood, but he discarded that after a moment. She had a boyfriend after all, and even if she didn't, little (young, he'd reminded himself) Beth Greene wouldn't be interested in anything like how Daryl Dixon smelled.

Speaking of the boyfriend... "Oh gosh, I'm sorry! I thought it was Zach's, but then I put it on and realized it had to be yours." She was babbling but he hadn't much minded, or maybe she'd just been pinning him there with those big blue eyes and making it harder for him to care, especially when she'd gone on, "I mean it's way too big but it also kinda smells like you, you know... Like cigarettes and leather and just, I dunno, you, and I knew I probably should have taken it off, but it's so nice and warm..."

She just kept going on and on, which hadn't much surprised him. What had surprised him was the things she'd said, the fact that he hadn't been so far off the mark wondering if she'd been breathing in the scent of him that clung to the jacket. As she'd continued to ramble something about the cool air, he'd let his gaze trail over her, admiring how the large jacket looked on her slim frame, how it revealed a hint of her flat stomach covered by a thin t-shirt, how her legs looked stretching out beneath it and how it was so obviously twice her size and yet somehow looked good on her in a way he'd been pretty sure he should not be noticing.

Daryl had refocused on her face just in time to hear her breathe out in a rush, "I'll take it off right now, you can have it back, okay? I really am sorry."

"Nah." He'd spoken without thinking, surprising himself for only a moment before he'd looked her quickly over once more and said, "Keep it. Looks better on you, anyway."

It had, without a doubt, despite the fact that he'd known at the time that he really should not be admiring how Hershel Greene's youngest baby daughter looked in his big leather jacket.

Just like he'd known he shouldn't have felt so disappointed later that night when he'd found it folded up on his bed in his cell with a little note on top of it, loopy handwriting scrawled across a scrap of paper: You keep it. Looks best on you. Even if it is nice and warm.

The truth was he'd never looked at that damn jacket the same after that, and as a result it wasn't the last time he offered it to her. He'd never tried to get her to keep it, not after the first time, but it became a little thing between them; the sharing of his jacket. That winter when he'd notice her looking cold or shivering too much in her raggedy cardigan, he'd grab his leather jacket and bring it to her. Soon his tendency to just offer it up silently had progressed to him gently settling it over shoulders from behind, and he'd told himself over and over that it was just to be nice (never mind that he wasn't the 'nice' type) and not because he liked the slight warmth of her skin beneath his fingers, or the way her hair managed to smell faintly like strawberries even now.

She wasn't his to look at, but he looked sometimes. Especially when she was in that jacket. But he'd tried to never look at her in a way that was too far from simply friendly. Until that day he'd had to go to her cell and tell her that he'd lost her boyfriend, that he'd failed to bring another member of their family home and this time it was someone close to her.

That night, dazed by the way she'd asked him if he was okay, the way she had wrapped her arms around him and held him tightly, he'd gone to get her the jacket. If she could warm him with her arms and the nearness of her slender body than he could find his own way to return some of that warmth. In her cell he had slipped the jacket on her and watched as she'd wrapped it around herself, watched as she'd tipped her head down and breathed in the scent of leather and cigarettes and sweat (and strawberries) that lingered on the jacket. He'd sat there just inside her cell, back against the wall and feet braced so his arms could rest on his knees and just kept watch over her as she tucked her stockinged feet under herself and let his jacket hug her the way he couldn't yet manage himself.

After that, there had been a decidedly different feeling each time he'd given her the jacket. There had been something almost vaguely flirtatious in the sidelong glances she'd give him as she slipped her arms into it, a faint hint of heat in her eyes when she'd raise the lapel to her nose and breathe in deep, a flush to her cheeks when his gaze would skim over her right down to her long legs with a hint of appreciation in his eyes. He had found himself making more and more excuses to lend her his jacket, to give himself that brief moment of fingers grazing her skin, the hours of watching her walk around in his jacket, knowing his scent clung to her skin now from wearing it.

The morning after their second night together, he'd woken up with her in his arms, both of them having slept straight through the night after their shared climaxes. An hour after he'd left her tangled in the sheets to slip into his cell before anyone saw him, and once the memories of her fingers curled around his hard length had faded at least slightly from his mind, Daryl remembered the first night he'd heard her moaning above him in her frustrated attempts to bring herself off.

More than that, he remembered that day, and the fact that she'd spent it in his jacket. It had slipped his mind until now, but it was back, vivid and pointed in his mind. She had worn it for almost five hours that day, handing it over only right before bed, and he'd caught her sniffing at her shirt with a faint smile as she'd walked slowly up the stairs to her cell. That night was the first night he'd heard her touching herself, heard her trying so desperately to help herself find a release.

He felt like an idiot for not putting two-and-two together quicker. He'd thought he'd been the only one with images of the two of them in his mind, the one who'd been worked up by the sounds of desire until he couldn't resist the urge to help her anymore, even if she'd never been after his help, let alone thought of him that way.

It had never occurred to him that she'd been thinking of him the whole time. That she'd been trying to ease the frustration and desire brought on by the scent of him, lingering on her skin and clothing.

Now that he knew, Daryl couldn't resist the urge to not only make sure she was aware of his understanding, but to play with it as well. He saw his chance when he spotted her walking down the cell on her way to the library to help Carol with the kids. He met her at the bottom of the stairs, slipping around behind her to slide the jacket over her shoulders.

"Daryl! I'm not cold today, you know..." But she was already slipping one arm into it, even as she gave her protests.

He just chuckled and this time, because he could and because no one was there to see it, he leaned in close enough for her hair to brush against his nose, close enough for his lips to graze the soft skin of the back of her neck as he murmured against it, "I know. Ain't trying to warm you up. At least..." His tongue teased at the line of the jacket collar where it rested against her skin, and he was rewarded with the way she faintly shivered and tugged the jacket closer as he finished, "...not like that."

"Daryl..." Beth murmured his name in a breathy little voice that did all kinds of things to him, things he really couldn't do much about, at least not right now.

Today, they'd do what they had to, they'd do their jobs. Tonight, though, would be their time, and he wanted her ready for him. "You wear this today for me, alright? Then if it gets you all worked up again like it did the other day-" He heard her breath hitch as she realized he'd figured out what had worked her up that first night. "-you come to my cell instead. And maybe if you're good, we'll do what you suggested last night, hm?" He smirked in the memory of her, teasing heat into his dreams with her murmured suggestions about them using their mouths to please each other.

Daryl pressed a kiss to the side of her neck and then pulled away, sliding reluctantly past her and waiting until she turned to watch him before giving one last low parting shot, "But you're keeping that jacket on all night."

...

There was no doubt that his plan had succeeded in getting Beth worked up. All day long each time their eyes had met, he'd seen the flush to her cheeks and the darkness in her eyes as her gaze lingered on him.

There was also no denying that his plan had gotten him worked up, too. He'd always thought that Beth looked good in his jacket; seeing her in it stirred up a mix of emotions ranging from desire and attraction, to some unexpected protective urges that rose each time he used his jacket to keep her warm or give her some form of comfort.

The day dragged, and each time he saw her in that jacket he just longed more and more for the sun to set, for everyone to go to bed and give them privacy; or at least as close to privacy as they could get now. Daryl knew she wanted the same thing. He saw it in her eyes, in the way she brushed past him when given the chance, in the way she made a point of curling her fingers into the jacket and drawing it up to her face so he could watch as she breathed it in.

Fuck, but he wanted her. He wanted her more than he reckoned he'd ever wanted anyone before. He wanted her soft smooth skin under the rough pads of his fingers, he wanted the scent of strawberries and leather in his nose, he wanted to swallow her soft little moans and coax even more of them out of her with his fingers, his teeth, his tongue, anything she would let him pleasure her with.

This time, he didn't wait for the cellblock to empty so he can go to her. Instead he waited for it to empty so she could come to him. Just as last night felt far more deliberate and thus important, tonight did to. It wasn't just him coming into her space, it was her coming willingly to his. Her seeking him out, not just wanting him but actively acting on it. It was incredibly hot without a doubt, and he was so keyed up over the idea of her coming to him that his nervous energy kept him from laying down to wait for her the way she had for him last night.

Instead he sat at the edge of his bunk, legs spread so his arms could rest on his knees and dangle between them, his eyes fixed on his cell door and his sharp ears tuned to the sound of movement beyond. He watched through the bars with relief as Maggie and Glenn went by on their way to watch knowing it meant that thankfully he wouldn't have to listen to them going at it tonight. Thinking about that only made him think about the sounds Beth made instead, so soft and sweet and yet so damn sensual and tempting that it made his fingers twitch with the urge to coax them out of her again and again.

Daryl didn't know how much longer he could wait, but just when he was about to rise to his feet and find her himself, there she was. She stood in his doorway, pushing the cell door open slowly to slip inside. The sight of her left him frozen for just a moment as he drank her in; she was still wearing that damn jacket but she'd changed from her regular clothes, and all she had under it was a little skimpy tank-top and those damn tiny shorts.

She looked like heaven and sin all wrapped up in a leather jacket and the fact that she'd risked walking through the cell block like that to get to him only made him want her even more. In the time it took her to close the cell door, cover it, and cross the distance between them, Daryl managed to get up and on his feet so that when she was close enough he could curl his fingers into the leather and pull her across those last few inches.

Being this close to her made it hard to breathe, and it took him a few moments to find his voice. With his lips just a scant inch from hers, close enough to feel her breath ghosting over his mouth, he murmured lowly, "Did you keep the jacket on all day, Beth?"

Beth shivered against him as her fingers came up to curl into his shirt. He was surrounded by a cloud of their mixed scents; leather and strawberries and sweat and sweetness, and he couldn't help but want to add the faint scent of pleasure and sex to that mix. Her head tipped up just slightly as she murmured in reply, "Yes. You have no idea how badly it made me want you, Daryl, smelling you on me and having the warmth of your jacket around me and seeing the way you kept watching me..."

He left one hand drift down, palming over the curve of her ass to give a gentle squeeze as a faint smirk pulled at the corner of his lips. The movement pressed their hips together, allowing her to feel how he was already more than half hard and straining against his jeans as he murmured, "I think I have some idea."

When Daryl looked down, her eyes were all big and dark blue and those sweet little lips parted to breathe out in a hushed voice, "Oh."

There was nothing he wanted to do more than kiss her, and so that was what he did. He cupped her face in one hand and drew her lips to his, easing his mouth over hers in a slow, soft kiss. It didn't take long to deepen, especially not when he felt the tip of her tongue dance against the seam of his lips in a playful request. With a chuckle that rumbled in his chest he parted his lips and let her tongue slip inside to taste him. Her sweetness exploded across his own tongue, coaxing up a groan low in his throat as he gripped her hip with one hand and tugged her closer again, desperate to feel her body pressed against his own.

His mouth shifted, lips grazing up the line of her jaw towards her ear, the stubble of his beard scratching gently against her soft skin as he murmured, "Had you in my head all damn day. Even before the jacket." The words spilled out before he could stop them, but judging by the little sigh she gave and the way she pressed herself up against him, it hadn't been a bad thing to say. Daryl just wasn't used to it; not just feeling things like that to begin with, but telling someone that he hadn't been able to get them out of his head.

It was all new for him, but knowing it was new for Beth made it easier to handle. Hell, he figured he could handle just about anything if it meant having her pressed against him, those soft curves molding to the hard lines of his chest as she slipped one hand around his waist to splay it against his back.

"You promised," she whispered after a moment, a smile in her voice that he knew would be visible on her lips if he pulled away to look. He was too focused on teasing her though, nipping lightly at the delicate curve of her neck; enough to taste her but not quite enough to leave a mark behind. Her voice hitched as she went on, "Promised that if I were good..."

"I did, didn't I?" His voice was low and a little rough with need as his hand shifted under the jacket to seek out the warm stretch of skin exposed between the hem of her tank top and the waist of her little shorts. "Have you been good, Beth?"

Just the simple question brought a whimper to her lips. "I kept the jacket on all day. Couldn't get you out of my head and didn't want to. I think every inch of me smells like you and it's been driving me crazy but I didn't... do anything about it. Didn't touch myself, even though I wanted to, cause... cause I really just wanted you to touch me, even if I had to wait for it. Is that good, Daryl? Waiting so that you could take care of me?"

Everything she said sounded incredible, but that last little question had something more warm and protective curling through him again. Take care of me. He'd never thought of it like that and yet in a way, that was just what he was doing, what he had been doing since the first time he'd seen her in his jacket. Maybe even before, but less obviously. He'd been keeping her warm, keeping her comforted, and now, keeping her satisfied. Daryl's breath shuddered out briefly against her ear before he pulled back, shifting his head until his nose brushed against hers and their foreheads pressed together. "Yes," he murmured, looking down into her eyes. "That's very, very good, Beth."

Now both of his hands were on her hips and curling as he lifted her up, just enough to carry her to his bed and sit her down. "Now you let me take care of you." His eyes were dark as they fixed on her, drinking in the sight of her stretched out on his small mattress, the leather jacket falling open to reveal the tiny tank top that clung to her curves. Her long legs stretched out from beneath the little shorts that, while tempting, he no longer had a use for.

But before he could tug them down, her voice broke into his thoughts. "I wanna help you, too, Daryl. Wanna take care of you, like last night." Beth sounded more confident tonight and he knew she was feeling less nervous being like this with him. Or maybe she could sense how just being near her made his heart race, and it leveled the playing feel somehow. She bit her lip and shifted to run her toes up the side of his jean-clad leg, coaxing a shudder from him as she breathed out huskily, "Wanna taste you, baby."

Baby. The affectionate nickname spilled so easily from her lips, but it made him hesitate for just a moment. No one had ever called him anything like that in his life. (Well, not like this. His mother, a long time ago, but he tried not to think of her when he was with Beth like this.) It sounds too soft for a rough guy like him, too affectionate, too... sweet. Merle's voice whispered in the back of his mind: You let her start callin' you baby, she's gonna have you wrapped 'round her finger instead of between her legs, baby brother.

Ironically it got the message across, but probably not the way Merle would have wanted. Cause it hit him, scary as it was, that Daryl wouldn't much mind being wrapped around Beth Greene's fingers, and not just because he knew that given what they'd been sharing between them it'd likely involve being wrapped up between her legs, too. He wanted both of those things. It terrified him because it was too similar to the constant want of a child who had ached every day for someone to care, for someone to want him, but before he could sink too deep into that fear, Beth's hand was there cupping his cheek and drawing his attention back up to her.

"Daryl?" She sounded more hesitant now, the confidence faded as she watched him with worry in her eyes.

He licked his lips and shook his head and focused on her and the concern in her big eyes and his desire to do just what she'd asked; to take care of her. "Soon. You can do that to me soon. But you come first, Beth." (Always, something echoed deep within him. Beth would always come first.) Keeping his eyes on her, Daryl hooked his fingers into the waistband of her shorts and drew them down inch by inch until they were dangling once more from a single foot. Though he knew it was a risk, he let her kick them off this time. He couldn't bring himself to worry, not when she was laying out before him like that all flushed with need and trusting him to take care of it. To take care of her.

He clung to those words and took them deep within him, deeper than he even realized in that moment. He thought he'd accepted the task of taking care of her that first night he'd made his way up to the stairs and into her room, but now he was realizing that it was far deeper than that. That he'd been taking care of her in his own way for awhile now, and that he would continue to take care of her in every way she needed. Maybe part of why he wanted to so badly was because Beth seemed just as inclined to want to take care of him, and he'd never had anyone like that in his life before. He'd never had anyone reciprocate, the way Beth did.

After a moment of just drinking in the sight of her, Daryl shifted onto the bed to kneel between her legs. She was propped up against his pillows, sitting up halfway so there was space for him lay at the base of the bed between her legs, but for now he leaned over her with his hands braced on either side of her shoulders. He pressed a kiss to the corner of her lips and then down, over her jaw to the curve of her neck and the hint of collarbone visible under the strap of her tank-top.

Breathing in the leather of his jacket, Daryl let his hand shift to span her stomach and brush up, pushing her shirt up inch by inch to reveal her taut belly and eventually, the soft curves of her perfect little breasts. He lingered there, kissing up over the soft swells and teasing her nipples with light touches before his tongue dipped out to swirl around them and tease each rosy bud into an eager little peak. Daryl lost several minutes just sucking those pert little nipples between his lips, earning the soft moans she gave him, loving the way she shifted and squirmed beneath him and tried to arch up in a silent request for more.

Eventually, reluctantly, he had to leave them behind to trail kisses down over her belly. His tongue traced over her skin, dipping into her navel and surprising a little giggle from her lips that had him smiling against her skin even as he reached her abdomen and settled on his stomach between her legs. He couldn't fail to notice how hard he was, his cock straining against his jeans even as he pressed his hips down against the bed, but he did his best to ignore it for now.

It was easier than expected with her spread open in front of him, letting him look at her most intimate place, drinking in the sight of those pretty pink folds all slick with need, for him. With a groan, his arms shifted under her thighs in a smooth motion and lifted to hook her legs over his shoulders. He must have caught her by surprise, judging by the little gasp she gave him, but Beth was a quick learner. In only a few seconds she'd settled her legs over his shoulders and even opened her knees a little wider in invitation as she canted her hips up.

He couldn't help feeling like it was an offering, but that didn't stop him from making sure. His lips hovered just over her sweet little mound and he looked up over the length of her body. Every inch of her was smooth pale skin and soft curves, and fuck, the sight of her practically naked and still wearing his leather jacket was more than enough to make his cock jump again where it was pinned down to the bed.

Fighting the urge to devour her, Daryl ground out in a voice roughened with need, "You sure, Beth? Still holds, what I said. You say the word and I stop."

"I'm sure." She didn't even hesitated and that only sent another jolt of need through him. "Don't stop, Daryl. Please don't stop."

This time, the 'good girl' he gave her was practically growled against her slick skin as he leaned down and breathed her in deep; inhaled the scent of sex that is entirely hers. The first brush of his tongue slid over her slit to part her folds, and the taste of her on his tongue made him moan against her. His own reaction paled in comparison to hers, though. Daryl watched up the length of her body as her lips parted in an 'o' of pleasure and surprise before she breathed out a needy little moan; another addition to the list of the best damn sounds he'd ever heard.

His tongue teased over her, tasted her, gently moving over her pink flesh to get her used to the feeling of him exploring her. Each brush of his tongue was met with a soft moan until he smiled against her and looked up to whisper, "Don't get too loud, you don't want me t' have to stop..."

When Beth whimpered in response, Daryl almost felt like he'd been cruel, but he wasn't entirely lying. They both knew they couldn't afford to get too loud unless they wanted to get caught. Seeing the worry in her eyes though, he couldn't help adding in a whisper, "I don't want to stop. Promise." It was the last thing he wanted to do, and he hoped she knew that.

His reward for that admittance was the gentle parting of her knees and the arch of her hips until he gave in again to the urge to taste her, to make her come undone with his lips and tongue. Soon, just stroking around her soft lips wasn't enough and he knew she was ready for more. He slowly teased his tongue around her clit, just close enough to touch it but nowhere near the pressure she might crave. Each teasing circle of that sensitive little bud had her biting back breathy little moans and moving her hips against his mouth until he had to reach up and curve his hands around her hips to pin them lightly down to the bed to keep her still.

Now Beth squirmed and strained against his touch- in pleasure, without a doubt, he would have let go in a heartbeat if he thought she wanted to get away- and he compensated by building to a slow rhythm, flicking his tongue back and forth against her throbbing little clit until he saw her press her hand to her mouth to stop from crying out. "Good girl," he whispered, lips grazing her hot flesh as he looked up at her. "Stay quiet for me, I know it's hard. I'll make it worth it..."

Daryl was determined to, and to prove it he began to suck at her clit, wrapping it between his lips and using the tip of his tongue to flick across it until even his firm hands could barely keep her hips down. He could feel the arch and strain of her body, could see the way her back curved up for him and her head tossed against the pillow to make a mess of her pale blonde hair. He saw her bite down on her lip, heard her frantic and stifled moans, and knew she was getting closer and closer to the edge.

"Daryl!" She breathed out his name between her fingers and he felt his cock jerk against the bed again as he growled around her little clit, sending the vibrations right through her body and earning him another sharp strain of her hips in return. So close, so close he could feel it in every line of her body, so close he could taste it on the juices that coated his tongue, and all he wanted was to bring her right over the edge for him again.

It only took a few moments longer. He thought about using his fingers, too, but there was a part of him that desperately wanted to bring her over with nothing but his lips and tongue and the vibrations of his moans against her slick flesh. When she finally came, her thighs pressed so tightly around his head that he almost saw stars, but he didn't stop. He sucked and teased at her throbbing clit, feeling it pulse against his lips and tongue to the same rhythm of her bucking hips and trembling body. He held her hips tightly until the arching of her hips slowed and his hands could brush up over her sides, palms rough against her smooth skin, tracing a path up to cup and caress the gentle swells of her breasts until she was squirming beneath him again in renewed climax.

She was the prettiest girl he'd ever seen, but when she came it was almost like she was the sun, and looking at her too long might hurt, but he still couldn't get enough.

When she finally came down, he eased her thighs apart and sat up slowly. His lips and chin glistened with her juices and he saw her studying him, her big blue eyes all hooded with desire. He was still incredibly hard, his cock straining against his jeans and twitching within them as she looked over the length of him with that heated gaze.

He only moved when she called to him with a crook of her finger and a shy little smile he coudn't resist. Soon Daryl was lying beside her, turning her on her side to face him, his hand brushing over the curve of her hip under the leather of the jacket she still wore as they lay facing each other. He let her kiss him first, let her slide her lips over his, relishing the first kittenish little moan she gave when she tasted herself on his tongue.

For awhile they just lay there kissing, basking in the shared warmth of their bodies, taking advantage of the intimacy of the moment to run hands over hips and backs and legs, pressing close to each other in a tangle of limbs and the gentle press of her bare pressed to his shirt-covered chest. Daryl would have been more than content to drift to sleep like this, to let his own desire ease away, but it seemed Beth had no intention of that.

Maybe she was just as big as he was on keeping promises.

Because after a few minutes he felt her hand drifting down over the flat of his stomach to find the front of his jeans and carefully toy with the button to undo them. "You don't have to," he breathed out, feeling the need to make sure she knew that, even if the mere thought of her lips wrapped around his cock had him twitching in his jeans.

"I want to." Hearing those words in Beth's sweet soft voice just made him throb with need again and he groaned as his fingers curled against her hip, even as she went on, "I've been thinking about it all day, Daryl. What you'd taste like. What you'd... Feel like, in my mouth."

"Fuck." His hips bucked into her hand as she drew down the zipper, and a low laugh vibrated in his chest again as he went on, "That leather jacket turnin' you into a bit of a bad girl? Might have to let you wear it more..."

He felt her grin against his lips, but what floored him was the honesty in her eyes as she looked over at him and whispered, "I think those kinda things about you even without the jacket. I think lots of things about you, Daryl. You're in my head and I don't wanna get you out."

She punctuated those words with the slip of her delicate hand between the fly of his zipper, distracting him from any hint of worry over the meaning in her words, and as her fingers curled around the base of his cock to gently guide it out of his pants, he groaned back honestly, "Me either." He didn't want her to get him out of her head, just as he didn't want her out of his. There might have been some small part of him that continued to insist on his unworthiness, but it paled in comparison to the desire that filled him when she was around; to hold her, to have her, to kiss her... to comfort and care for her.

Somehow he ended up on his back and when he could focus again, he looked down to see Beth Greene kneeling between his legs clad in nothing but his leather jacket and her tank top pushed up above her perfect breasts, with her fingers curled around his thick cock. "Fuck, Beth..." His groaned curse just made her smile, and he knew she felt that sense of control again, the hint of power she had over him. Daryl heard it in her voice as she looked down at him and teased, "You like that, Mr. Dixon?"

"You know I do." The throbbing of his cock in her hand was all the answer to that question, but that wasn't what had him breathless right now. It was her. The look in her eyes and the sound of her voice, and the fact that just being this close to her in this way seemed to take his damn breath away. It was almost too much for him. He didn't want to take that power from her, because it was hot as hell when she smirked at him like that, but he needed to get some of his own control back or it would be too much.

"What do you want, Beth?" He spoke in a low and confident voice that only hitched briefly when she twisted her fingers around his shaft. "You wanna wrap your lips around my cock and find out how it tastes? Is that what you want?" When she squirmed in place and gave a breathy little sound, he pressed his hips up gently into her hand and said firmly, "Show me."

She knew how to gently stroke her hand over his shaft, but he knew for a fact she'd never done what she had in her mind to try next and that she'd need him to guide her, even if she couldn't bring herself to ask yet. The idea of showing her how to wrap her pretty lips around his cock and suck him off was yet another in a long line of heated images filling his mind now when it came to Beth Greene.

Inexperienced as she was, Beth never backed down from his challenges. She didn't even hesitate, at least not for more than a second. He watched, riveted to the sight of her leaning over him to press a soft kiss to the head of his cock. "Just like that," he murmured, his voice thick with need. "Use your hand, Beth. Stroke over my cock, pull the foreskin down... Fuck, just like that." He'd never felt anything in his damn life as good as her fingers stroking down his shaft, but it was surpassed a second later by her lips wrapping around his cock, and the heat of her sweet little mouth covering the head of it as she gave a gentle little hum and tasted him for the first time.

"Good girl..." As always the words made her moan and spurred her on, coaxing her to flick her tongue out and swirl it around him until it was all he could do to stop his hips from bucking up and startling her.

Beth pulled back to catch her breath, licking her lips before she breathed out, "You like that, Mr. Dixon?"

His hips stilled as he studied her, and he felt her pause too, sensing the shift in his focus. He found himself wondering if she'd switched to 'Mr. Dixon' because of how he'd flinched at the other nickname earlier, and he was surprised to realize he wished she hadn't. Not cause 'Mr. Dixon' wasn't kinda hot (it was, even it made him feel old), but it didn't have the same sweet sexiness, the same resonance that he'd felt when she'd called him baby (like she'd wanted him to be hers).

Before he could stop himself, he ground out in a ragged, unsure voice, "You can call me the other thing. If you want." His awkwardness was in sharp contrast to the heat of the moment, but rather than falter he saw a softness in Beth's eyes. It should scare him, hell it did a little, but as always she knew just how to move them past that. She just she stroked her hand slowly up and down his shaft, and when she whispered, "Yes, baby," all he could do was shudder and buck his hips into her touch again.

Daryl's control was tenuous, and for the first time the power seemed shared between them. He was the one guiding her with rough whispered words, but she was the one making him shudder with the tease of her tongue up the length of his shaft, or the hum of her lips vibrating right to the base of his cock as she wrapped her lips around him again. Then she shifted and began to slide him into her mouth, letting him glide heavily over her tongue to be surrounded by all that wet heat, and he had to clutch at the sheets beneath them to stop himself from jolting his hips up.

It was too damn good and he knew it was because it's her. He'd had blowjobs before; messy and quick, even a few slower and more experienced, but ain't nothing ever felt as good as Beth's mouth did easing over him for the first time. It was obvious she had never done this before, but it was just as obvious how badly she wanted to make him feel good. When he felt her flutter her tongue against the underside of his cock, Daryl just groaned and reached to curl his fingers into her hair as if he needed the anchor.

It was for him as much as her. He used his grip to guide her as he murmured thickly, "Just work your mouth over it like that. Bob your head up and down and... Fuck, yes, Beth." He half-moaned her name and didn't fail to notice the way she tightened her lips around him and moaned in response, sending those damn perfect vibrations right through him again and nearly coaxing another curse to his lips. It was taking all his self control not to be too loud, not to groan and growl the way she was making him want to.

Especially when she took his advice and began to bob her head, taking him inch by inch deeper into her mouth and working up a slow, steady rhythm. Her free hand curled around the base of his cock to cover the few inches she couldn't fit in her mouth, and he felt her stroke over it in rhythm with her mouth. Though she hesitated and stuttered at first, with each stroke he could feel her getting the hang of it, finding a smooth rhythm as she worked her mouth over his cock.

The best part was knowing she enjoyed it. Cause lord, feeling her moaning around his length and watching her press her thighs together as she shifted above him was somehow almost hotter than the actual feeling of her sucking his cock. Her mouth on him was incredible; knowing it was getting her off as much as it was him took it to a whole other level.

He tried his best to hold back, but he could only take so much of something that felt so damn good. Soon his hips were stuttering, faintly pressing up so his length would slide deeper into her mouth. Each time she would hum around him and he'd groan, and his fingers would curl tighter in her hair. It didn't take long till he felt that tension coiling low inside of him, bringing with it that faint sensation of so close, so close.

"Beth-" He gasped out her name in warning, wanting to give her time to pull back if that was what she wanted. "I'm gonna- fuck-" His whole body went tense, his hips tightened and pressed up, and then that coiling tension within him snapped and to his shock, she didn't pull back. He spilled into her mouth, over her tongue and down her throat as she kept her lips wrapped around him, and the sight of it had him moaning, "Beth..."

He'd never said her name like that before. He was pretty sure he'd never said anyone's name like that before. As the climax rushed through his body and made his cock jerk in her mouth, he felt his hand smooth out in her hair to cup the side of her face, thumb brushing over her skin as she swallowed every last drop of his release.

His head fell back to the bed as he breathed out a groan, but he never took his eyes off her. He watched as she finally pulled back to look down at him. He drank in the sight of her licking her lips and tucking him gently back into his pants. He watched and softly sighed when she fished her shorts up off the ground and slid them back on before tugging her shirt back down over her skin.

But it was relief that made him relax as she climbed back up the bed and curled up against him instead of leaving. She laid down half on his chest, her leg curled over his as she nuzzled her cheek against his chest again.

"Baby, huh?" He hadn't meant to bring it up, but of course the moment he opened his mouth it came tumbling out. Something about coming always made him so damn loose, made him lose some of his usual filters.

Beth seemed to know not to look up at him, to just stay casual tucked against him and tracing shapes over his chest as she murmured, "Only if you want."

Only if he wanted it. And did he? Daryl closed his eyes for a moment, and let himself get lulled by the brush of her fingers against his chest even as the memories drifted over him.

Wrapped around your fingers, baby brother. His mental image of Merle shook it's head, and then faded as an echo of his past slipped into his place; a melodic voice slurred by liquor: Give Mama that glass, baby boy. That's my boy. He shuddered, and felt Beth's fingers hesitate but they didn't stop, and as she began to trace circles over his shirt he heard her voice in his head instead: You like that, baby?

In Daryl's mind, the knowledge comes easily almost to the tip of his lips: Yes. Lord, yes.

His eyes fluttered open to look down at her, so sweet and innocent and yet not, given what they'd just done and the images in his head of the pleasure on her face when she'd come undone, or the way she'd looked with her lips wrapped around his cock. Those images were good, but they were just a drop in the bucket of the memories he had of her; smiling at him from across the cellblock, coming to his cell to take care of his wounds when no one else seemed to even notice he'd been injured, the deep blue of her eyes that day in her cell when he'd come to tell her about Zach and she'd asked him if he was okay.

(Baby? Only if you want.)

He kinda really did.

"I guess it ain't so bad," he murmured as he reached down and tugged the sheet carefully up and over both their bodies. "Sometimes." When she looked up at him with a little smile, he met it as best he could. "But don't go gettin' any ideas about other nicknames, okay?"

Her giggle loosened the tiny knot of tension that had taken up residence in his chest with the memory of his brother and his mother's echoing voices. "You mean you don't want to be called sweetheart?" He frowned, even as she went on in a silly voice, "Teddy bear? Sugar? Hot stuff?"

"Girl." He growled the word but there was a playful bite to it echoed in the hint of a smile on his lips as he tucked her close to his chest.

"Ooh, how about Snuggle Bear? You don't like that? Aww, come on!"

Daryl just shook his head and blew out the candle next to his bed, before letting his eyes flutter shut. "Go to sleep," he said firmly, even as she giggled softly to herself and cuddled up to him.

He didn't much mind a few seconds later though, when her sweet whispered voice broke the silence to murmur, "Goodnight, baby..."

Daryl just sighed and splayed his hand against her back, and murmured back, "Goodnight, Beth."

**A/N: Two more chapters to go. I wonder what they'll do next chapter. Wink wink. (Also I hope you enjoyed this, I was a little unsure about all the non-smut stuff, especially Daryl's thought processes, so I hope it worked out.)