FOR Oreganofox: I'm sorry it took me so long, forgive me! And I changed things up just a tad; you'll see how!
"We're going to patch you up and then you're gone." There was rage in the sentence, an irrational rage that caused his voice to change from low to high, as if the words were not his own.
Michonne understood, they were not used to who she was or even knew where she came from, how could they handle her when she got so angry? And if they could handle her, how would they understand without being fearful?
The way Rick had looked at her left her feeling disappointed in herself, his almost disheartened look trying to convey the feelings of someone who had had hope in what was standing in front of them, only for it to be lost again.
In front of her Rick opened the drivers door and Michonne slipped into the back seat, her face hard in the mirror. It's symmetry beautiful in it's own way. Once he kept staring, he noticed the lost look on her face. Her sunken mouth and her grounded eyes and fidgiting hands tapping at her upper arm. It struck a chord in his heart that hadn't been pulled in ages, like a line in a song you didn't see coming, it rose from his chest to his throat and he wanted to cough it up, hold it in his hands and say 'Stop looking so lost, once you leave, take this heart. I have no use for it anyway, it'll make you feel better though. Loved.' Shaking his head, he knew he couldn't think about that. With a feeling that he could only describe as a glass of distilled happiness, he took a deep breath while a sense of awkward in the atmosphere that Rick didn't want to touch. So instead he gripped the steering wheel and took his eyes away from the review mirror so he didn't have to think about the odd feeling that stirred in his stomach when he thought of her going as the rage he had held continued to die.
Back at the prison around the designated 'lunch time' Rick walked passed the cell they had given Michonne, which she hardly left. After what he had said earlier, he didn't feel like looking her in the eye. Since this had started, Rick had only worn that lost face once; in the beginning when he thought he was entirely alone and that Lori and Carl were gone for good. A pang ran through him as Rick remembered how low he had felt and it made him feel weak.
"You're going to have to eat sometime, it's the only way you can leave sooner." Hershel's whisper carried through the prison towards Rick, making him stop in his tracks. Turning, he saw Michonne's hands hesitating in mid air before taking the food from Hershel, who then smiled and sighed. "It may be a lot to ask, but we do all need to survive. Do you want to help me later? With gardening?"
Her face seemed to brighten just a little bit, as if this was the only thing she had found in a long time that offered something fresh and new. That offered something light and different without holding any guilt. He smirked lightly, knowing that was the way he felt and it was wrong to push those ideas on her without even knowing her. But he loved the feeling of soil and the result of gardening. The idea of beauty coming from his hands, covered with mud not blood.
"I wasn't ever much of a gardener." She spoke, her voice weak and cracking. There was a sense of innocence within it, as if she was going over all the memories of her life in that one single moment and trying not to cry. Rick hadn't heard that softness in a while from a single human being he had met on the way.
"What were you?" Her expression changed, tight lipped and passionately silent, Hershel shook his head. "I'm sorry I asked, I over stepped the boundaries."
Lowering her head, Michonne shrugged and put a spoonful of beans in her mouth. "It's alright. I'm still a stranger here."
Hershel looked behind to find Rick staring and gave him the saddest, most empathetic smile he had ever seen.
"She really likes work. I get the hard working, office vibe from her." Hershel nodded in Michonne's direction, where she was kneeling in mud and happily digging with her hands, before planting the seedlings of tomatoes in the ground. She didn't seem to mind wiping the mud on her jeans and starting all over again on a new row. "As much as it looks like she wants to go, I don't think she does."
Rick watched as Michonne tied back her locks that kept falling her face and the way her plump lips were then licked before she picked up a nearby water bottle and drunk some before sprinkling a little amount over the seedlings she had sown. The sun seemed to chase her, catching her every movement, shouting to everyone nearby that she was golden enough to be followed. Drawing his eyes back to the ground and placing his hands on his belt, Rick rocked on his feet, trying to shake off the awe he felt. What he had said, about her leaving, prodded at him, forcing guilt to fill his pores. But with a sense of pride, he spoke the words he knew needed to be said.
"She has to go Hershel. We don't know who she is. She seems dangerous." Rick said it, but it didn't seem real. Danger wasn't something he saw as this woman, with skin the sun kissed a million times over and a face so peaceful in it's work. Recalling all the times he had seen her muscle press against her skin as she rose her katana to finish unwanted zombies nearby, Rick thought of how it would be to fight with her. How much of an asset Michonne would be.
"Michonne," Hershel pronounced strongly, as if sick of Rick's constant use of 'she', "is just someone we don't know yet. Just like all these people you have here once were."
With that Michonne stood up right on queue, smiling down at her work before allowing herself to wave at Hershel, the twinkle in her eyes caught by the sun, welcome in it's form. As big as the smile was, filled with pride and achievement, it didn't last long as the smile fading right after her eyes flickered to Rick.
The guilt rose in his chest and he felt a heavy hand squeeze his shoulder. "Make it right Rick."
Rick watched as Hershel walked away, the wisdom in his words just right at the time. Turning around, he almost felt the urge to shout to Michonne, but with a gaping mouth he was left speechless because she was no longer there.
"I saw you, earlier." Rick quietly stepped into the her cell, the flickering light making the feeling inside of him even more daunting. She was sitting on her bed, with a book in her hand, not raising her squinted eyes to him.
"I know you did. If it's such a problem, I'll be out of your way sooner than you think." The flatness in her voice made him want to turn and leave, but thinking about earlier, with his gaping mouth and him wanting to shout her name, he stayed.
"No. No it's not like that..." He stumbled a little, feeling childish in her presence. When the buzz of being a leader wore off, he was who he was in his constable outfit, friendly, polite. There was hardly any crime in his small home town, so there was never a reason to be vocal and demanding.
"Then what is it like?" She mumbled, her bluntness enticing because it contradicted what was placed before him. Michonne confusion in a nutshell to him and he couldn't understand why she never said what she felt or why her words didn't match the expression on her face. Not wanting to press anything or have words leave his mouth that made him seem frail, Rick cleared his throat and took a daring step into her cell.
Instantaneously Michonne was a fingers width away from him, in a light white tee that when Rick looked down, only slightly covered her chest. Her legs were bare, makeshift shorts hugging her thighs. Rick clenched his jaw, the line tight, just like his lungs in the moment as he didn't dare breath.
A weird part of him wanted her to touch him, just touch the bare part of his arm and let her fingertips linger there, then to his lips. Despite the obvious war between them, he was gentlemen enough to notice a beautiful woman in front of him. They remained in the same gaze, slight breaths escaping into the air before Michonne spoke, "Don't you dare step into my cell. Not until I'm gone."
Rick dropped their gaze and immediately brought it back up again as he realised looking down at her chest would cause even more issues for him. "We're going on a run tomorrow." They didn't need a run. He wasn't thinking with his head. He was thinking with empathy of her face and her gardening and her loneliness and with hormones, like a foolish teenage boy. "Be up at dawn."
Raising an eyebrow, Michonne stepped back and crossing her arms brought her chest up higher, like a tease to Rick who turned, blushing because he was imagining them with very little need of imagination. When Rick received a nod he returned one quickly, avoiding eye contact, avoiding staring at her chest, avoiding wondering why her legs seemed to look like silk and go on forever. "See you in the morning." He mumbled, before turning too quickly and nearly bumping into the bars.
"This is going to be a quick run. We only need a few supplies." They had taken the car again, this time though, Michonne sliding into the passenger seat and placing her feet comfortably on the dashboard. When she received a look from Rick, she shrugged and replied with a simple, '"I'm going soon, aren't I?"' and he had no way to fault her.
As Rick drove down the high way, he remembered the times he had been greeted with the call of birds on his duty days and how he'd know the exact hour that they would start singing. Almost smiling at the memory Rick felt to share it with Michonne, but the long groan of zombies that crashed through the feeling made him irritated and he felt himself scowl.
"You never get used to it, do you?" Michonne said, "It never becomes background noise, like car engines on a highway."
Rick grunted a sound of approval to her statement, "No, it doesn't. It's unfortunate."
Michonne was quiet for a minute, before dragging her feet from the dashboard and sitting like a happy child, legs crossed then pulling out her katana onto her lap and stroking the head of it with the tip of her index finger. "But sometimes I still prefer it here."
Thinking of all the things that had happened to him in the past, that broke his heart in a million ways, Rick cleared his throat. "I can't say I agree entirely but I can't say I disagree either."
The chortle released by Michonne made Rick smile, not only because it was light and filled the car with a noise other than zombie groans, but because it was softer than the look she gave him when she saw him standing beside Hershel and because it was the first time he had heard it. "At least you have something, Rick." She said his name with such an odd amount of compassion, it almost made him swerve as he looked at her. He wanted to tell her that she could too but would she want to come back? With the way he had treated her, he would have left in her position. The limited amount of faith and trust he put in her, he wondered how she was still able to accept the idea of sitting in the car with him for a supply run.
So instead, Rick simply took a sharp right and carried on driving, letting the groans of the zombies and tire against the road be the soundtrack to their lives.
They had travelled further than the group had travelled before, stopping at a chemist that looked practically untouched. The few zombies that walked around aimlessly were sliced before Rick could pull up his gun to their foreheads. Exchanging a look, Michonne nodded in his direction and Rick gave her a little smile that she seemed to return.
"It still looks full." Michonne said, her stance strong and prepared. A part of Rick watched in awe at the woman in front of him, how willing she was to fight whatever was in her way regardless of the consequences.
"Let's go, before any more get here." Running behind her, Rick found her agility endearing and strong. He watched her waist and her behind in the tight jeans, gasping in both because he was in need of air and the strong burn that caught him in his low stomach by surprise, Rick felt a little bit of shame.
The woman he had a little less than a day ago told to leave he could now feel himself actively lusting over. Maybe it was because he pictured them fighting side beside and that strength hadn't been found in anyone he had come across yet. And as close as they thought side by side, he could imagine them closer and the taste of her sweet skin on his lips as a sign of an apology from him, that he was willing to do anything for her to stay.
How could he leave someone with such strength and willpower in an sea full of zombies, where there was no light at the end of the tunnel. Rick didn't want that on his conscious.
Rick ran into the back room as Michonne locked the door behind them, "There's enough supplies here. We have to be quick." Not looking her in the eye, he gave her assurance he had heard and picked up every single bottle he could, not reading the labels.
Flicking his eyes over to Michonne who was currently bent over a desk, quickly searching through each draw and giving out an exasperated sigh when she didn't find anything, Rick found himself lusting after her, for the sight before him was enough to cause burning sensation in his groin.
"Don't stress." Rick mumbled. "Make too much noise and the zombies will come." Receiving a chuckle in response, he rose an eyebrow. "What?"
Michonne cleared her throat whilst still bent over the desk, "When was the last time you had?"
"Had what?" Fumbling with his bag and zipping it shut, Rick walked over to lean on the desk right next to Michonne, using up every inch of his will power just so he wouldn't stare at her behind in those tight jeans.
"It's just, you have all these people but you seem so lonely. Can I tell you something?" Popping back up Michonne shook a bottle of headache pills and smiled triumphantly, before reaching over Rick right to his bag and unzipping it slowly. A dirty thought ran through his mind as he imagined she was unzipping his jeans and he threw his head back in totally ecstasy, repressing a groan.
"Go on," he managed to say as she sunk back.
"That girl Beth," She sat herself beside him on the desk. "Sometimes she looks at you with wonder eyes."
Bashful, Rick laughed the thought away. "Even if she did, it'd be a stupid little teenage crush. She's not my type." He watched as Michonne swung her legs and he laughed at the innocence of it, for which he received a punch. "It's not my fault this desk is so high."
As the laughs suppressed to giggles and then to chortles, Rick felt a shift in the air and cleared his throat. "Michonne, I just wanted to say-"
"I know, I've got to leave soon." Her voice cut deep, like knives dragging along his chest, he felt every word.
"No, no. You could stay. That's not me, whatever was in those words towards you. I misjudged you."
The brief moment of quiet made Rick's heart beat so close to the surface of his skin he was afraid she'd hear it herself.
"I haven't had a place to call home for a while." That was the same tone she used when she had called herself a stranger. The empathy in Rick caused him to reach out his hand and squeeze it.
"It's the closest thing you'll get."
Through wet eyes, Michonne stared at him, the atmosphere in the room changing once again. A funny feeling lingering that dared for boundaries to be overstepped then never to be spoken about again. Rick found himself still holding her hand, slowly moving his fingers in between hers until they were laced together. None of them spoke as Rick moved to place himself between her legs, that opened and wrapped around him willingly.
The quiet breaths shared between them as Rick moved his lips closer to hers were intimate, only theirs to hear in the quiet, away from the prison where people awoke with their own thoughts and feelings at mind.
"You can." Michonne whispered, the situation finally daunting on Rick that he had been waiting for her permission. He had been a fingertips width away from her lips but hadn't kissed her yet. There was something delicate in the moment and he could almost put a finger on it. It was the undressing of two souls that had been strong for a long time, who's scars were too deep to show another soul with simple bruises from tripping up on it's own two feet. When he kissed her, he could taste his struggle on her tongue and it felt like forgiveness, because she was allowing him, broken and bruised to be this close to her.
His hands wandering, grabbing her thighs as she began to grind against him, before finding the back of her neck once again, pulling her to deepen the kiss.
When she moaned into his mouth, he could just about contain the urge to get more out of her. To do things he knew he wouldn't forget if they became reality.
And it wasn't about the primal instinct of fucking, it was more, it was finding someone who mirrored him in nearly all his ways. It was - he didn't want to call it - like finding a soul mate, that was a needle in this world, the haystack.
He took off her shirt, then kissed her shoulders, before biting the skin between his teeth and allowing it to pang back as he worked his way up to her neck. In return she found the corners of his shirt and tugged impatiently as they broke apart, both with swollen, wet lips from hungry kisses filled with teeth and tongue.
Unhooking her bra in no time he found her beautiful, the breasts that had been only slightly hidden before now full in his view. Feeling himself harden, his grinding became faster as he cupped her breasts and put one in her mouth, using his tongue to swirl around and grab moans from deep within her lungs.
Breaking away from her for only a second, Rick saw the same hunger in her eyes that he had in his. Fixing her legs around him, he picked her up and carried on sucking on her breasts, changing from one to the other and making sure he only changed when the moans reached a new high. Then, allowing her to stand, he kissed her cheek before kissing along her jaw bone to her right ear and sucking on her earlobe.
Wanting to feel her placed a strong hand down her pants and worked fast, rubbing her to the beat of his heart, that only quickened when he heard her rip the air from the room in a sharp intake. She clung to him, dug her nails in him, got slicker and wetter on his finger that slipped in and out and rubbed as they pleased. Whispering his name over and over again only made him harder as she began to get tight around his fingers.
Jumping away from him she gave him a sly grin and started to undress herself down to nothing at all. It was a slow tease, one that left Rick's heart in his throat and all the blood in his body to run to his manhood.
She walked towards him and bent down, unzipping him, drawing down his boxers and allowing him to step out of them before engulfing him in her mouth, that was warm and wet. Michonne took him in deep, her tongue swirling at his tip every time she drew back. As he held her head, she moaned softly and he grunted, the feeling making him weak. It had been far too long.
As Michonne watched him about to peak she pulled back, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. Watching him as she walked towards the desk, she smirked at him, inviting him to her. Before turning around so he could see her ass all over again and bending over onto the desk and spreading her legs, like an invitation to heaven.
Rick accepted and walked to her, grabbing her ass then holding her side with one hand before placing himself in her slick, tight folds and almost cumming right there and then.
The car ride home was silent, but not because of guilt. A new destination had been opened with what had happened in the chemist, that none of them would have thought possible a day ago.
Their eyes met continuously in the rear view mirror and then quickly departed again. But both of them knew, between the groans of the zombies and the unspoken words that they were satisfied and what was, and is, in the moment, was enough.
As they approached the gates of the prison, Michonne sighed. However, this one wasn't lethargic, it was different, light like her laugh and a feather of a bird. "Home."
And although Rick didn't admit it, he was happy she said it.