A/N: Written for an Anon prompt on Tumblr re Rick and Michonne being neighbours who don't get on. AU, no zombies. Was going to be a one-shot but I'll write it in two parts. Enjoy!
Disclaimer: I do not own The Walking Dead. M for language.
xXxXx
The eye rolling was more out of annoyance for herself than at the howling of the neighbor's dog next door as Michonne placed her coffee mug down on her desk. The dark liquid was now cold as the time read twelve forty-seven, antemeridian. She had a class in the morning and a five thousand word paper that was due that following afternoon. She was sleep deprived and stressed and it did not help that she had just moved into her apartment with her young son André and was sure that the landlord said no pets allowed. Now, as she tried to link her thesis statement to her next paragraph, Michonne felt irritated.
Without fully functioning thought processes due to lack of sleep and coffee overdose, Michonne stood up, stretched out her cramps and walked towards her door. She stepped out into the hallway and proceeded next door to number twenty-five.
Bang, bang, bang.
She waited; the dog started to growl and no one came to answer the door. Frustrated, Michonne knocked thrice again before cursing and stomping back to her apartment. She grabbed a scrap of paper from her desk and scribbled a quick message: Hey asshole! Would you mind making sure your dog shuts the hell up? Some of us actually need to sleep in this building. Regards, No. 23.
Content with her note, Michonne walked back to the corridor with scotch tape and the piece of paper in hand; she then stuck the message to the door of the apartment next to hers, right under the brass two and five. Somewhat pleased with her actions, Michonne went back to her home, closed her laptop and tried to get to sleep.
xXxXx
The night shifts were kicking Rick's ass, but it was all part of his plan for the future. He needed as many nightshifts as he could get because extra shifts meant extra money. Being a single father meant Rick needed the extra cash that came with working overtime as a police officer. He hated to have to leave his fourteen year old son Carl home alone, but times were tough and he needed to work if he was ever going to have enough savings to get a home loan and buy a place for him and his son.
Carl understood this and was pleased when his father got a guard dog to stay with him overnight when he could not get one of the neighbors to look in on him. Even when the dog proved to be difficult, Carl just locked him in the bathroom and put on his headphones; sleep found him easy.
Now, as Rick trudged up the stairs and over to his front door, he noticed a piece of yellow paper stuck to it. He took the message down and read it; Rick sighed and then glanced towards his neighbor's door.
"Jerk off," he said under his breath before shoving the crumpled paper into his pocket and placing his key in the lock.
…..
Carl was almost ready for school when Rick came in; father and son greeted one another amicably.
"Hey, Dad. How was your night?" asked the teen.
Rick took a seat at the small kitchen table.
"Fine, Son. Nothin' too exciting. How was your night?" he asked, pouring himself a glass of orange juice.
"Boring really. I was online for a bit and finished up my homework," he said.
"Did you eat?" asked Rick.
"Yeah, but please don't get that brand of TV dinner again. It tasted like rubber," said Carl with a smile.
"Noted," laughed Rick. "How was Bucky? Did he give you any trouble?"
Carl sighed.
"He cried and barked a bit after the sun went down, so I locked him in the bathroom," said Carl. "He wouldn't shut up."
"Did you try to feed him?" Rick asked.
"Yeah, but he just pooped on the bathroom floor and then howled some more," Carl said with a shrug.
"Okay, it's just that the neighbors at twenty-three left a note complaining about the noise," Rick explained.
"Screw them!" said Carl.
"Hey," warned Rick.
"Sorry, Dad," the boy offered.
"Let's just hope he behaves himself tonight. If anyone comes over here knocking, don't answer the door, got it?" said Rick.
Carl nodded his head.
"Got it," he replied.
"We don't know what kind of crazy people they might be," Rick added.
"Can I see the note?" asked Carl.
Rick contemplated saying no, before he reached into his pocket and handed it over. Carl studied it and scrunched up his nose.
"Should we write a note back to them?" asked the boy.
Rick sighed.
"No, Son. Let's not make it worse than it already is," he offered and Carl agreed.
…..
Rick went to his bedroom to get some rest and Carl scooped up his backpack as he got ready to head off to school. He stopped in the hallway and looked at number twenty-three. Before he could think things through, Carl grabbed one of his school books, opened to a clean page and began to write something. He tore the note from his book and then crept over to their neighbor's door and slid the note under it. Satisfied, he made his way to the elevator and sighed when he noticed it was not working again.
xXxXx
It was almost eight-thirty, postmeridian, by the time Michonne had finished at the library; she had left her apartment early that morning and still felt as if she were behind in her work. Tiredly, she packed her bag with textbooks and headed down to where she had parked; as she approached her car, she noticed that there was a ticket stuck to her windshield.
"Shit," she said under her breath as she took the piece of paper and placed it inside of her bag.
She then drove to her sister's place to pick up her son; feeling overwhelmed and tired, she tried not to let tears of frustration escape her eyes.
…..
"Maybe you should make a complaint," said Shiri, Michonne's little sister. "They said that you couldn't have any pets, so why is the douche next door allowed to?"
"I know, I know," replied Michonne. "I wouldn't even care if the mutt just stayed quiet."
"You look tired," the younger woman stated.
"I am tired," Michonne said as she grabbed André's small backpack. "I'm so over everything."
Shiri nodded knowingly.
"Thanks again for today," Michonne said.
"It's fine, Mich. You don't have to thank me every single time. He's my nephew and I love having him around, right buddy?" Shiri said to André.
He nodded his head and offered his aunt a hug; Michonne then hugged her sister and bid her goodnight as she and her son set off home.
…..
The small boy rushed through the door as soon as his mother had switched on the lights; he ran into his bedroom to put away his backpack. Michonne followed him inside and let her own bag fall to the floor. She was exhausted and annoyed. The ticket she had received for parking too long was one hundred and seventy five dollars and forty-three cents. It was an added expense that she did not need and could not afford.
Attending law school was a dream of hers and she had started a number of years ago. When André came along and her relationship with his father fell apart, she took time off from school and focussed on being a mother. Now that her son was older and she was in a better frame of mind, Michonne returned to her study, but it was difficult.
She sighed when she saw the piece of paper on the floor, thinking it was one of her study notes. Michonne picked it up and immediately felt her stomach drop; her neighbor had written a note in response to hers. It read: Hey there's no need to be such a dick and call people assholes. Have fun being a dick. From No. 25.
Michonne scrunched up the note and tossed it into her fruit bowl before taking a seat at the table. She grabbed her notepad and quickly wrote a reply:
Dear asshole at No. 25,
The only dick around here is you! Please make sure your dog doesn't keep the rest of us awake tonight. As you can tell I am a letter writer and I will make a formal complaint about you, the Master of assholes, and your asshole dog.
Regards,
No. 23.
She stomped out of her apartment and taped the note to the door of number twenty-five. Hoping that it would shut up the dog and the owner, Michonne returned to her home and began to prepare dinner for André. She shook her head when she heard the neighbor's dog whimpering again.
…..
Rick and his partner, as well as best friend, Shane Walsh made their way up the stairs and onto Rick's floor. It was early in the morning, just at daybreak, when the pair had finished their shift. Shane needed to borrow an extra sleeping bag from his friend so the two of them were on their way to Rick's to retrieve it. Shane noticed the paper first.
"What the fuck is this?" he asked, ripping it from the door.
He looked in the direction of twenty-three.
"Whats goin' on with you and your neighbor?" asked Shane.
"Let me see," said Rick as he read the note. "Damn it! Carl must've written back to them."
"Wrote back to who? What's goin' on?" he asked.
Rick sighed.
"Bucky's been noisy and the neighbors left a note complainin' about it last night. I told Carl not to reply, but it seems like he did. Shit. I don't want trouble. I don't even know who lives there," said Rick.
"Well," replied Shane as he turned and walked over to Michonne's front door. "Since I ain't in the mood for my best buddy to be called an asshole, I think it's 'bout time we found out."
Bang, bang, bang
"Atlanta, PD. Open up!"
xXxXx
A/N: More to come!
Shane's a hot-head and overreacting lol
In the next instalment, Rick and Michonne finally get to come face-to-face.