~Showers~
Rick had given the word for his group to disperse into separate houses. Several moved into the house next door while the rest claimed the vacant two-story across the street. Despite the proximity of the buildings, he felt the loss of their presence immediately. After weeks of traveling together, he had gotten used to their sounds. Fifteen under one roof hadn't bothered him, but the thought of one in particular moving away churned his gut.
With Judith tucked tight in his arms, he held the sleeping baby as he watched them file into their new homes. Glenn, Maggie, Daryl, Sasha and Gabriel headed next door. Abraham, Rosita, Eugene, Tara, and Carol claimed the other one. Rick had offered the extra bed in Carl's room to Noah and the young man accepted with a faint grin. Rick's next invitation lodged in his throat amid the bustle of movement.
He and Michonne had begun a strange ritual of push and pull with every measure seeming to bring them a tiny step closer. Asking her to stay should have been easy after everything they'd been through, but the possibility of rejection held him still. Instead, he stood on the porch and waited.
After awhile, he wondered if he had missed her. She had moves like a ninja. If she wanted to float by without a witness, Michonne was more than capable. But in the groups that left, he couldn't imagine where she would gravitate. A home with him and the kids seemed the logical choice, the best one by far. But his need for her prompted that assumption. By now, he knew better than to assume.
As afternoon surrendered to evening, Rick gave up watch duties for the night and headed back inside and locked up. The living room felt strangely bare after the bodies it hosted the first couple of nights of their arrival. He reminded himself that everyone was close by. Upstairs, he heard the boys talking and maybe the sound of video games or music playing. He took a bottle of water from the fridge before he climbed the staircase.
Judith's crib had been moved to the master bedroom. He placed the sleeping baby inside. Seeing her clean and fed soothed him just as much as the murmurs of Carl and Noah from down the hall. He had just kicked off his boots when he noticed the sound of running water from the master bathroom. He grabbed the butcher knife from his belt as he moved to investigate.
Fog clouded his vision when he pushed the door open. Fresh air helped. Inside the glass showers stood the lovely naked form of Michonne. A clear view of her body was hidden by the shower's steam, but he recognized her shapely rear and long dark locs. Rick knew that ogling was an asshole move, but the sight of her rendered him immobile.
If it took her twenty minutes to brush her teeth, he wondered how long she had been in the shower. He aimed to keep his thoughts neutral by thinking of time and numbers, but that only lasted a moment. Soon, his breath quickened. He felt hot and the sudden tightness of his jeans bothered him. All that time he worried that she had left, but she had been here—naked, clean, and beautiful—all along. Did she have any idea of her affect on him?
The decision to leave arrived the moment she turned her back to the showerhead and faced him.
Her soft gasp and his name whispered in the confining space. "Rick?"
"Sorry—"
"Wait." She fumbled a bit until the water stopped. "I forgot to get a towel."
"Yeah?" A grin erupted before he could pull it back. His chuckle followed.
"Yeah," she said, her tone firm. "A towel."
"Right." He grabbed one from the bathroom's linen closet. The urge to choose the smallest one was a battle that he fought against and won. He handed her a large bath towel through the shower door that was open little more than an inch. "Here ya go."
"Thanks."
I should leave, Rick thought, but he didn't move. His sock covered feet refused to budge except to back up a couple of steps when she stepped from the shower stall. The towel covered her, but the tiny beads of moisture along her shoulders and collarbone tantalized him. The soap smelled much fresher on her skin than it had on his. He drew in deep breaths as savored the scent.
Her dark brown eyes blazed. But not with anger or admonishment. The heat mirrored the same that burned in him. Rick knew that because he knew Michonne. They read each other in ways that would have terrified him before the world went to shit, but now the inherent recognition made perfect sense. Even when they disagreed, he could look into her eyes and everything made perfect sense.
"You're staying here," Rick said, "with us."
She nodded, her smile radiant. "Yeah."
To be continued...