Title: Complications
Fandom/character: Dawn of the Dead (2004), Ana
Prompt: 47 - Heart
Rating: PG
Author's Notes: Shippyness set after Ana and Michael's smooch and the ever-so-smart decision to send Andy a pooch. Can be followed by "Touch," "List of the Dead" or "All Fall Down," depending on your desire to see characters suffer.

"Okay then," Michael said, with the little nod Ana recognized as his switch to take-charge mode. "Terry, why don't you and Nicole get Chips ready. Ana, can you get together the food and maybe any medical supplies he needs? I'll go to the sporting goods store."

Despite loud protests from Nicole, who was still crying, the group had just agreed to Kenneth's plan to send Chips to Andy. In theory, it was a good plan. No humans would be put in direct danger, and Andy certainly needed help.

She watched Michael go, chewing her lip. Something was wrong with him. Something beyond just the anxiety of another potentially dangerous plan.

Ana wondered if she had made a mistake, kissing him on the bus. For her part, it had felt right – amazingly right -- and the guilt she thought she might feel wasn't there. She still loved her husband, but he was dead. She refused to die with him.

Resolving to go after him, Ana picked up her speed to match Michael's long stride, uncertainty tearing at her heart. "Hey, can we talk?"

Something in her voice made him falter for a split second, allowing her to catch up. "Sure."

They walked in uncomfortable silence to Reflex Sports, where he held open the door for her. A joke about chivalry popped into her mind, but one look at his stony expression stopped her cold. He regretted kissing her. There was no other explanation.

If one good thing had happened to her since the start of this nightmare, it had been meeting Michael. With his common sense and self-depreciating charm, he had quickly become unofficial leader of the group. He had just as quickly earned her trust, friendship and more. But now…

Her fingers tapped a pattern on a showcase as he crouched to pick out more walkie-talkies from inside – the same type that were already stocked on the bus, she noted.

The bus. She sighed. "Is anything wrong, Michael?"

"Should there be?" He concentrated on taking the radios from the packaging.

He was non-confrontational unless he had to be; she had noticed this within minutes of meeting him. Sometimes she found it endearing, but right now she just wanted him to answer her. Even if it wasn't the answer she wanted.

What answer did she want? She didn't want things to be complicated, but they already were, otherwise, she wouldn't be standing here, staring at the top of his head. Well, maybe she wanted it a little complicated. Maybe, if they survived, things could get really complicated.

The case between them annoyed her, so she stepped behind it, crouching beside him. "On the bus. I just…" She stopped, licked her lips, started again. "I just want to know what that meant to you."

"I'm not your husband, Ana," he said, cutting her off and meeting her eyes for the first time since they'd come upstairs.

"No," she replied, drawing the word out as she thought about this. What did that mean?

"I-I'm not going to lie to you and I'm not going to say I regret what happened." He swallowed and looked down again to fumble with the battery cover. "But I can't replace him – I won't. I hope we can be okay."

Her heart sank. So much for complicated. But, wait… She searched his face, trying to read his thoughts, noting the worry lines between his eyebrows. His hands shook the tiniest bit as he loaded the batteries. She decided to give it one more try. "Michael?"

It took him a beat to answer. "Yeah?"

"Who said I want you to replace him?" He looked up, and seeing what she wanted to see, she decided to go for broke. She laid her hand on his cheek, felt him lean slightly into her touch. "It's you I want, dummy."