Hey, everyone! This a series of three one-shots that have nothing to do with the other.

I was part of the Bethyl Secret Santa Exchange, and I just couldn't decide what to write, so I wrote all three :)

These are for you, bethgreening!


They had been at the funeral home for a few weeks, waiting for someone to come back and tell them to get the hell out, but no one ever came. He hated that he was starting to feel settled into a place, but it was hard not to with Beth moving stuff out of rooms and making it look like a home instead of a what it really was.

Ever since that night he had tried to tell her with his eyes and not choked out words, things felt off between them.

He figured it was all him.

He was older, more haggard than any other guy she had been with, and he didn't really talk all that much. Hell, he couldn't even tell her that she was the reason he thought shit might work out for them. She was the good in the world that he had forgotten was there.

She called his name, and he turned his head toward where she was sitting on the piano bench. When he met her eyes, she smiled and asked, "Any requests tonight?"

He shook his head and closed his eyes. "Just keep on singin'."

It had become their routine every evening after dinner for him to lay down in the coffin and listen to her soft voice sing songs about love and loss. Most of the songs didn't really have a happy ending. They were just true to life shit that he was getting tired of.

He snorted quietly. He remembered months ago bitching about her and Zach being like some damned romance novel, and now, here he was, eying her from a distance because he was too chicken shit to say anything he was feeling.

That "Oh." hadn't been a complete "Fuck off, hillbilly." So, he let himself believe there might be something there. He just wasn't about to lay himself on the line again to get the truth.

Like every night before, he fell asleep listening to her sweet words and let himself dream that one day, she would sing a happy song because of them.

A few days passed, and they were running low on food, but neither one of them wanted to leave their little home. Beth felt safe for the first time in a long time, and Daryl was just afraid it would disappear.

He hated that he felt that weak, but hell, once things kept getting taken from a man, he just started waiting for the bottom to fall out.

That evening he was stringing up the security line across the porch steps a little tighter, and Beth walked across the porch and cleared her throat.

"Yeah," he said and looked up at her.

Her cheeks turned pink, and she shook her head before walking away. Daryl stared after her, feeling more confused than ever.

He was back in his coffin listening to her sing The Parting Glass later that night. She always sung that one when she was sad about her father or sister. Those nights she didn't talk much, and she would go upstairs early and lay down.

Daryl would stay in his coffin and wonder how that little flicker in his chest had turned into butterflies and why the fuck he felt the urge to climb up those rickety stairs and lay down beside her.

When the music faded, he heard her stand up and knew that she was about to go up there and lose herself in her thoughts, just like he did most nights.

Her footsteps moved toward the coffin, though, and he turned his head and looked up at her. With a deep breath, she hitched her leg over the side, and slipped in beside him. Daryl turned a little to give her more room, and once they were facing each other comfortably, she laid her head down on his bicep.

"I'm really not sure how it happened, but I think I'm gonna fall in love with ya," she whispered and touched his cheek with her hand.

"I don't know how either," he whispered and looked down, feeling his heart start racing.

"I know one thang, though," she said and tilted his chin to make him look at her.

"What's that?"

There was nothing but absolute sincerity in her eyes when she said, "I'm really happy it's you."