Liquid Courage

This one shot came from a discussion I had a few weeks ago with PC 608, and this is what come from that that plot bunny.

I hope you enjoy it. Thank you, Jen, for editing! I love you. You're the best!

Warnings: Shameless smut, {gratuitous} violence **whispers** Not really. Just a little nod to Murphy for you :)

Daryl Dixon hadn't known what he was getting into the night he took Beth Greene home from the dive bar she'd wandered into.

She looked sweet as pie, and she damn sure tasted like it. He knew. Several times over.

Still, he figured she was twenty-two and trying to piss off her daddy by getting with him.

He was thirty-six, driving the same hand-me-down bike and working at the same body shop he had been at for the last ten years.

Daryl was the definition of going nowhere.

She kept coming back, though. Even after he told her he wasn't going to be taking her out for fancy dinners or holding her hand like some whipped pussy.

Beth had shrugged and said, "Give it time, Dixon."

Everyone knew they were together. They met at the local diner or had drinks at the bar on Fridays. Her car was parked in front of his apartment more often than not.

It had been nearly seven months into whatever it was they were doing when her daddy showed up at his work, wanting to talk with him. Daryl had slipped out the back door as soon as Hershel Greene stepped out of his truck.

Beth had laughed at him for several minutes that evening when he told her. "Ya know, he just wanted to invite ya to dinner."

"Done told ya—I don't do dinner with tha parents."

Beth had stood up and pulled on her coat. "It would be dinner with parent. Singular. My momma's been dead a while, Daryl. Anyway, what's tha big deal? It won't kill ya. Ya sit over here in this apartment, waitin' on me to come visit, but ya won't give in a little? I'm tha one makin' this relationship happen. I'm makin' all tha sacrifices. Everyone looks at me like I'm some booty call since ya barely acknowledge me in public."

Daryl had started chewing on his thumbnail. He hated confrontation, especially with her. "Ya don't like it, don't come back."

Beth stared at him for several seconds before she shook her head. "After all these months, I mean nothin' to ya?"

"Didn't say that," he muttered, feeling guilty. She meant a whole hell of a lot to him.

"I need a damn drink," she said and turned for the door. He didn't stop her and flinched when she slammed it behind her.

She was fed up with his bullshit.

When she was eighteen, she saw Daryl for the first time and knew that one day she was going to have him for herself.

Even though she'd wanted to chase him down then, she waited and played the good girl—went to college, got her degree, and then came back home.

She started working at the local dance studio, offering vocal lessons on the side. The studio owner even let her use the upright in the unoccupied room to give piano lessons.

It wasn't a very well-paying job, but she made it, paycheck to paycheck, on her own.

A couple of weeks after she'd moved back home, she put on her tightest jeans, paired with a cute little crop top and cowboy boots, and found Daryl Dixon in the most questionable bar she had ever seen.

It was more like a shack in the woods, and she was pretty sure there'd been a distillery out back, but the law never came around to check. Hell, most of them were customers.

That had been the best night ever.

Until the day she died, she would never forget the sound he made as she undid his jeans and took him in her mouth while he drove them back to his place.

Beth hadn't known where the courage came from but figured it was courtesy of the clear liquid that tasted like straight rubbing alcohol she had been sipping all evening.

The first time, they hadn't even make it out of the truck. He yanked her jeans down and off one leg and pulled her to straddle him. Crop top got pushed up and bra, down.

She was surprised no one had caught them.

Now she was just tired of it all and ready to cause some trouble.

If Daryl thought she was just going to sit back and let him pretend they didn't matter, she was about to give him something real to consider.

A man always showed his true feelings when he was jealous, and Beth knew after their little spat, he would go running to that shine shack in the woods to get drunk with his brother.

She also knew there were plenty of men there who would be very happy to show her the attention she needed to light a fire under Daryl's ass.

Call it juvenile all you wanted, this plan was straight out of her big sister's book and a proven winner.

She slipped on those same skintight jeans she wore the first time and the cowboy boots. She went with one of Daryl's button-downs, which she tied up under breasts and rolled up the sleeves.

Her hair was purposefully wild, and the bright red lipstick was a gift from Maggie at Christmas when she still hadn't known she was dating Daryl.

"It's to get ya laid," she had told Beth, who had commented on the bright shade.

Beth took a deep breath, giving herself a once-over in the mirror. She ignored that twinge of self-doubt that told her she was being ridiculous and grabbed her purse.

She had to do it before she lost her nerve.

It was unusual for his brother to show up alone on a Friday night. That blonde was always with him whenever he went out, and he and Daryl rarely got drunk together anymore.

Merle imagined if he had that pussy waiting on him, he wouldn't have wanted to get lit with Daryl, either.

The moment Daryl stomped into the bar, Merle knew it was more than Beth being busy with her family that had him alone.

He went straight to the bar and threw back a few shots before grabbing two beers and walking to the table Merle was currently occupying with a lovely working girl named Candy.

She wasn't sweet, but she sure was cheap and that's what kept Merle coming back.

His vices were running his ass into the ground when it came to money.

"Well, Darylina, you're lookin' awful lonely this evenin'."

"Fuck off," he growled and took a few deep pulls from his beer.

"I ain't one to pry, but what crawled up your ass?"

Daryl huffed out a breath. "Beth."

Merle smirked. "Now, I always thought it was tha other way around."

Daryl slammed down his beer. "She wants too much. Naggin' my ass about meetin' her daddy."

Merle wrapped an arm around Candy, and she slid her hand along his thigh. "That's why ya need a girl like my Candy. We ain't go no expectations at all."

Daryl shot him a dirty look, and Merle couldn't help but laugh.

"Oh, baby brother," Merle said, shaking his head. At that moment, the door to the bar opened again and Beth strutted in, ass and hips just swaying. He was hard, and it wasn't because Candy was inching her way up toward his dick. "You're fucked."

Every eye in the place was on her—except Daryl's. His back was to her, but judging by Merle's shit-eating grin, that wouldn't last much longer.

"I want some of that apple shine," she told Dale, the bartender.

"Oh, darlin'," he said quietly. "What're ya tryin' to prove?"

Beth took the first small sip and then another bigger one.

"I'm about to bring Daryl Dixon to his knees."

Dale just looked at her with wide eyes and shook his head.

"Lord help us tonight," he muttered.

At first, he thought he was hallucinating.

His Beth wouldn't dress like that to come out to a bar, and she definitely wouldn't be wearing lipstick that was only made to leave a mark on on a man's dick.

The more he stared the more he realized he wasn't seeing shit and Beth didn't have some slutty twin she'd been hiding.

His shirt fell off one shoulder as she laughed at what some tool beside her was saying.

She had to have known he was watching her; hell, he was staring a damn hole into her back. She never looked at him, though.

Then that asshole skimmed a hand across the exposed skin of her back, and Daryl was about to pop out of his chair when a friend of Candy's landed in his lap, crushing his hard on and making him cringe.

"Fuck, woman." He curled over a little as he lost his breath.

"Need some help with that?" she whispered into his ear, and her hand went to his neck.

He was about to tell her to back off when he caught a flash of blonde out of the corner of his eye and the woman was yanked off his lap.

"Bitch fight!" some guy yelled from behind him.

The alcohol slowed him down, and the peals of Merle's laughter made him feel like he was in some alternate reality.

Men gathered around the women wrestling on the floor, and Daryl pushed through the crowd to see Beth grab a handful of the woman's hair and pull her back to the ground while the woman clawed at Beth's hand, leaving nasty welts up her arm.

"Let go, ya crazy bitch," the woman hollered, and Beth pushed her down hard.

"Keep your dirty fuckin' hands off my man."

"He didn't seem to mind," she taunted, and Beth lunged forward, but Daryl wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her back to his chest.

"Ya need to calm your ass down. What tha fuck's gotten into ya?"

"Ya let me go, Daryl. I've had it with you!" she yelled, trying to squirm out of his grasp.

The guy from the bar tried to grab her arms and pull her away, and Daryl lost his shit, dropping Beth to the floor and tackling the guy who had been putting moves on her for the last twenty minutes.

Beth's ass hurt from the impact, but that was forgotten as soon as Daryl took off after the man she'd been talking to.

It certainly wasn't a girl fight, either. Where she and that whore had been pushing, slapping, and scratching, Daryl and this guy where rolling around and throwing punches left and right.

It didn't seem like anyone was going to help break them up, but then Merle pushed through the crowd and tugged his brother off the other guy.

"Done enough damage, little brother."

Daryl was breathing heavy, and his fists were bloody. His opponent was sitting up, trying to stop his nose from bleeding.

"Fuckin' asshole," he muttered and let another guy help him to his feet.

"Shoulda learned not to touch thangs that ain't yours way back in kindergarten."

The guy flipped Daryl off and walked away.

When he turned toward her, she just stared, her mouth hanging open at the fire in his eyes. She wasn't surprised at all when he grabbed her arm and yanked her out of the bar and around back.

His heart was racing and the adrenaline from the fight was coursing through his veins.

Daryl pushed her into the wood siding of the building and pressed every inch of his body into hers.

"What tha fuck were ya thinkin' comin' here dressed like that?"

Beth pulled her bottom lip between her teeth and shrugged.

"Only reason I can think of is ya wanted to get fucked." She traced her tongue over the lip she had been biting. "Or maybe you're tryin' to drive me crazy."

"Maybe I wanted both."

Daryl leaned down and pressed several hard, dragging kisses along her neck, scraping his teeth just enough to make her shiver.

"I've been crazy since tha first night I brought ya home with me."

"Oh really?" she asked, trying to keep her voice even but failing.

Daryl flicked the button on her jeans open and slid his hand straight down into her panties. There wasn't much room to move at all, but he was able to rub his forefinger over her clit.

"Girl, always gettin' ya naked in public. Ya need to learn to wear skirts."

Beth laughed and kicked off one boot while he pulled down the leg of her jeans.

The cool air hit her skin and goosebumps popped up along her legs and arms.

"Ya barely covered up," he mumbled and stuck his hand right back into her underwear.

"Ya did it. Not me."

"Ya came here lookin' for a reaction. Ya got it."

Before she could say anything, he slid two fingers inside and curled them as he went.

"Daryl," she gasped and gripped his wrist.

His lips covered hers and he pumped his fingers in and out, bringing her right to the edge before he pulled away.

When his pants were around his thighs, he picked her up and pressed her back into the building.

"This ain't hurtin' ya, right?"

"Hell no," she whispered. "Please don't stop."

"Line me up, then." His voice was thick, and he leaned just far enough away for Beth to put her hand between them, push her panties aside, and get him where he needed to be.

As soon as she moved her hand, he slammed into her. She threw her head back and moaned so loud he knew the people inside heard it.

Now this was what she wanted.

Beth wanted him absolutely wild for her, and the fact that he was screwing her behind the bar made her feel like she had accomplished her goal.

Daryl was kissing her neck and nipping at the skin. Every time he breathed against her, she clenched a little tighter around him.

It wasn't going to be much longer until she came, and she probably wouldn't able to walk right for the rest of the night.

Just when she thought he couldn't go harder, he did, and their groans and skin slapping were the only sounds she could hear, despite the fact that they played the jukebox in the bar at top volume.

"Open up your shirt," he said, completely out of breath. She did as he said and then wrapped her arms back around his neck. "Take your tits out. Wanna see 'em bounce."

She hated that word, but when it came from his mouth in that gruff, cigarette-roughened voice, she got even wetter.

Once her bra was pushed away, he watched for a second, his hands digging into her hips, moving her and keeping her against the wall at the same time.

Then he leaned down and sucked her nipple into his mouth, swirling his tongue around the sensitive skin.

Beth pressed her forehead to the top of his head and tangled her fingers in his hair.

She lasted two more thrusts before the sensations all became too much and she came, gasping and groaning, her thighs locked around his hips.

"Fuck," he breathed against her chest. Daryl pushed his face into her neck and let go, slamming into her with an uneven rhythm until he moaned against her jaw and his motions stilled, as deep in her as he could be.

They stood there for several seconds, catching their breaths, before Daryl slowly set her on her feet.

Beth smirked as she leaned against the building, rubbing her bottom lip with her fingers.

"That was good," she said with a grin. "I should get ya worked up more often."

"Ya ever let another man come on to ya like that and I'll bend ya over my knee before I fuck ya."

Beth's cheeks darkened. "I just wanted ya to see how much I mean to ya."

"I already know that," he said quietly, pulling up his jeans and buckling his belt.

Beth righted her clothes and asked, "What about the woman that was on your lap?"

"She was drunk and knocked me in tha balls when she fell on me. I couldn't breathe, and when I was about to help her off, ya yanked her by her hair."

Beth seemed a little embarrassed. "I do crazy thangs when I drink moonshine."

"Ya got in a bar fight for me."

"I don't want no one else touchin' ya."

"Same here," he said, straightening her shirt a bit better, and then he brushed the hickey he'd made on the side of her throat.

"We should go home," she whispered. "I'm tired now."

"Your place or mine?"

She shrugged and took his hand. "Don't really matter. Drive my car, and we'll get your bike tomorrow."

Daryl nodded, and she leaned against him as they walked around to the front.

She hadn't said it to him and he hadn't said it out loud to her, but he was in love with this crazy girl.

"Maybe we can get it after we have dinner with your pops?" he asked quietly.

Beth stumbled a little but didn't stop walking.

"Yeah," she said and squeezed his hand. "That'd be perfect."