"I am relieved. May I now have the truth?"
― Georgette Heyer, These Old Shades
"Why did you kiss me?"
Michonne opened one eye against her body's will to look at the man that she officially met just hours ago, and had just finished fucking. His face was still flushed. She had no idea what his name was because she didn't care at the time. He was the only man in her line of sight that could get it with no questions asked.
Using the last bit of energy she could muster, Michonne was was glad upon an additional observation that he was still attractive. It was a nice reassurance knowing that the after-effects of the alcohol she had consumed he could still get it, again.
He was what some considered tall, dark and handsome, to Michonne he was tall enough, not dark enough, but strangely enough, he wasn't bad looking in the least. Not once did she try to imagine herself back with her ex-Mike. This was different. He was her first random hookup. One night stand.
She found herself in bed with this particular guy who wasn't anything like her Ex. Her EX was tall, dark and handsome which wasn't how she would describe this man lying next to her, bare-chested, face turned towards her waiting patiently for an answer to his question.
It was his third time asking why had she kissed him. She had to find a sufficient response to end his strange need to know. Michonne was desperate to fall asleep and to stay asleep.
Michonne spoke softly, the side of her face burrowing more into the pillow that was encased in white Egyptian cotton. Her answer was honest. She did not realize truth was never required nor recommended in situations such as hers.
"Who fucks without kissing?"
Her response to his question caught him off guard.
"If I had taken you seriously about the no kissing, we would not have gotten this far." She added. Sleep now taking precedence over rational, coherent thought or context.
"I'd told you specifically that I didn't want any kissing."
"We were kissing."
"Your point?"
"You really wanted to fuck."
"You are missing my point." He insisted.
"I am completely missing your point. And if I weren't so damn tired, I would entertain you some more about what I am calling bullshit. Right now there is this pull on my eyelid to close shut, and for my mind to turn off, This bed feels like heaven, and for once in my life, I would like to experience a good night's rest on what must be a bed made of clouds."
"I prefer no kissing."
"How many times must you tell me?"
"You didn't adhere to a simple request."
"Even when I am asleep I am on the clock. I am doing you a favor by not charging you ten thousand dollars for having the privilege of my time in any manner in which it is spent."
"How much for your time?" He questioned. It was something he was unsure of, and he wasn't entirely positive if it needed a discussion or who was to bring up the topic when his belief was if you have to ask, you can't afford it. He was 100 percent positive he could afford her. There were a few things he wanted explicitly, but he tried to pace himself and not blow through an itemized sex list she may have, in one night. In the back of his mind, it nagged him that he may have gotten more than he actually bargained for in the end and he planned to get himself checked by his private physician and his therapist because not at any time did he wear a condom nor pull out at any point.
"Five thousand dollars believe it or not." She mumbled.
"Five thousand?"
"I come with a retainer. Hourly, my rate is still whatever the fuck I say it is."
Michonne was officially heading off into another world. She was farther away from reality while speaking and he wasn't aware of the difference when she had spoken.
"Retainer?"
"If you want to retain me it's going to cost you."
"I don't think I got exactly what I wanted and from that alone makes our time worth 2500." Rick waited for a response that he didn't receive. "Maybe, 2500?" It wasn't that Rick couldn't afford the amount suggested, it had more to do with her not following his instructions, he felt he had room to negotiate.
From the sound of her soft snore, she was fast asleep.
Without disturbing her further, he sent a text to his cousin, Eugene who sat in an adjoining room watching a random episode of the Walking Dead.
Rick: I need you to go to my place in King's County and take out 2500.00 from my safe and bring it to me.
Eugene: Okay boss!
By the time Eugene arrived with the money in hand, Rick hadn't realized he too had fallen fast asleep with the woman closely curled in toward him with the tip of his nose touching her forehead.
Eugene didn't make a sound. He studies the two people for a moment, spying on a dark nipple and the woman's partially hidden ass under the palm of his oldest cousin's hand before he decides to place the money on the nightstand.
When Rick had finally awakened, surprised he had actually fallen asleep, he glimpsed the money which was an indication that his cousin followed his instructions to the letter without disturbing his sleep for an acknowledgment of a job well done.
Rick allowed her hand to fall away from his chest, realizing no matter how he exited the bed she remained undisturbed. Within a matter of seconds, he crossed the penthouse floor to the adjoining bathroom where he stood staring at his reflection for a long moment.
His lips felt swollen and stretched but appeared unchanged in size if not unusually redder. His tongue felt parched. Filling the glass with water from the sink's tap he gulped half of the liquid quickly in hopes of relief but found it only enhanced the flavor, and taste that remained embedded on his taste buds. Whiskey and cigarette.
Checking his Rolex for the time, he realized it was close to noon. The day had caught him sleeping longer than he ever had in an extremely long time.
He thought back to what had happened just hours ago and how this particular woman performed in his bed.
There was no other woman he wanted that night at the Under Ground Circus. He was there for the Grand Opening. The night club was owned by his childhood friend, Shane Walsh, and he wanted to be there for its launch.
"Some of these women are high price hookers but you ain't heard it from me." Shane's attention was everywhere and on everyone who were in attendance in what would be the most popular hot spot in town for the affluent.
"How about her?"
"Who?"
"The one bartending." Rick couldn't seem to take his eyes off of the woman who was serving drinks like a pro at the bar.
"Blondie? Oh, she's only doing that because I won a bet. She didn't think I would get this place off the ground. I did."
"So you know her?"
"Fuck yeah, I know her. To know of her, you know you are into some shit. Anyone who knows her and her being here, means high level. Upper echelon. It's what we rascals do. We seek the best. Don't tell me you into some shit?" Shane could sense his friend's possible attraction to his guest Bartender but he thought it was some trouble due to rumors of racketeering being associated with Go Stop Insurance.
"Maybe I am."
"You have to be in real deep. You can't find just anyone to take care of it and be satisfied with their services. Blondie is expensive and to fuck around with her will cost you. But she's worth it if you dabbled. She knows how to get you off."
Just one look at her, Rick was more than willing to pay any price to know what a woman like that would feel like on top of him, under him, and kneeling. He got two of the three without issue. The third hadn't happened because he was fucking exhausted, and his dick was content. Strangely sated.
"Hi."
"Hi. You want to get in?"
"Shane said you wanted me to come out to meet you. Would have been better if he had introduced us."
"What is your name?" Rick had asked her after she agreed without any apprehension to slide into the back seat of his Bentley, door held open by his cousin, Eugene who was dressed as a chauffeur.
"I thought Shane would have told you."
"No. He didn't."
The response she received was every indication there was another reason and it wasn't business that this particular guy wanted her to take a ride with him. She felt his vibe the moment they locked eyes inside of the nightclub and all through the evening. She knew he was watching her dance once her relief came to take over tending the bar. She put on a show just for him. Michonne went with the name Shane had kept referencing her by because of the wig she wore. She was going to continue with her temporary alter ego.
"Blondie."
Before he knew it, he had her on his lap straddling him, gyrating on his hard-on with her hand firmly on his throat. His Adam's apple halted from moving by how firm her grip was after he dodged her lips from landing upon his.
Her brown eyes peered into his as if seeking understanding when there was none.
"No kissing." He announced.
There was no passage of time to reiterate once he found himself lip-locked and responding. His primal urge to have her was intense and raw. He had to wait until they arrived to his penthouse. He settled with pulling her panties to the side to finger her causing her mouth to hover over his. Only then did he realize his hunger by pressing down on the back of her head to resume their kiss until she was breathless, gasping for air, in between pants allowed from his unexpected throaty moans when she orgasmed all over his fingers.
After he finished with brushing his teeth and showering, he carefully selected his wardrobe paying careful attention to detail before stepping back into his bedroom to find the strangely attractive dark-skinned woman with her blond wig falling off still fast asleep in his bed.
In the daylight, he felt compelled to move the synthetic strands away from her face to see her clearly. He was seeking an unobstructed view that only the right type of light could provide. Standing on her side of the bed her face was still buried in the pillow.
Gently he moved what was supposed to mimic hair, without trying to disturb her. He drew his hand back when she had burrowed deeper.
The GO Stop executive found himself in a predicament but decided it was for the best if he made his exit and then have Eugene return to make sure she was up and out. He took her blue lacey panties as a souvenir.
"Cameras."
With a press of a button from the front console by his driver, Rick who sat in the back seat watched from a headrest screen practically every move she made inside of his penthouse. She was in search of her panties. She was on the phone with Shane. She had Shane on speaker.
"What kind of asshole did you set me up with? I thought you said he was in need of my services, instead I encountered a thief."
"Girl, what are you going on about?"
"2500.00 dollars is what I am going on about! What the fuck you tell him?"
"I told him you ain't cheap."
"Damn right!"
"Now what in the hell, happened?"
"My missing panties is what happened. It goes with my 1200.00 dollar bra. I had a perfect damn match."
"He stole your panties?"
This bit of information didn't sit well with Shane but he had no right to be angry because they had broken up almost a year ago after the accusations made against him were actually true.
"I hope to God, I misplaced them. I've looked everywhere. If I can't find them you will give me his real name and phone number."
"Rick is his real name. It is short for his real name Richard. I didn't lie to you, Blondie. Last thing I need to hear about is some over priced drawls. Makes me wonder if I had gone into the wrong damn business when there are women just as crazy as you are to spend that amount of money on something you ain't allowing anyone to see. The oohs and ahhs from us men would be like getting your money's worth on those high price drawls. You know what I mean?"
Shane reference to her preference for overly expensive undergarments slightly amused her even though she was becoming more frustrated and less pissed.
"We've had this discussion before Shane. If you want to see what is under my dress all you have to do is treat me like you have an ounce of sense and a college education to back it up."
"My degree from Harvard is real. Ready to have my baby now?"
Before Michonne could reply Shane had to go, promising to call her back.
After twenty minutes into placing the city behind him, Rick instructed Eugene to turn the car around and head back to his penthouse. The change of plans was unexpected and without rhyme or reason. He wasn't sure of the dynamics between his friend Shane and the woman he referred to as Blondie but one thing Rick didn't want was to be referred to as a thief. A panty thief. He had rationalized it as a fair exchange. Not once realizing it would be at the cost to his reputation, possibly piled onto other unsubstantiated accusations made against him and his company.
He had arrived back at his place the moment she was leaving his residence. They stood face to face, both surprised and flustered.
"You have something that belongs to me." She accused.
"What is your name?"
"What?"
"I want to see you again, and I have no idea how to request you if I don't know your name. I can't necessarily refer to you as Blondie. Unless you wear that all the time?"
She became instantly self-conscious. She felt unsettled by his attentive blue eyes gazing directly into the very fabric of her being. She was finding him to be more attractive than she once thought just hours ago.
"I would like to know-your-name," Rick enunciated each word carefully hoping for a sign she may be agreeable to seeing him again. He had hoped to make her an irresistible offer. "What is your name?" He had asked again.
"Michonne," she relented easily by the sudden feeling overtaking her senses to no longer keep herself anonymous.
"Michonne?" Rick repeated to make sure he pronounced her name correctly.
"Yes, and here is your fucking money, asshole. You may be able to find a call girl for these peanuts but I am a damn Lawyer! Who the hell do you think I am or would be for 2500.00 is a slap in the face! Now give me back my panties!"
Michonne didn't know what had hit her during their tension filled confrontation out in the hall of his penthouse, but he finessed her back inside. Next thing she knew her wig was off, he had her stripped bare of her clothes and humbled to her core.
"Daddy?"
"Yes, Judith?"
"How did you meet Mommy?"
"How did I meet your Mommy?" Rick eyes went wide by repeating the question his daughter posed to him soon as he set foot in the kitchen.
"Uncle Shane, says he would like to know the story, but we don't even know the story so we can tell him."
"Your Uncle Shane?"
Judith nodded, "Uncle Shane says we were supposed to be his kids and Mommy was supposed to be his wife and the baby in mommy's belly was supposed to his Oops we did it again baby."
Carl asked, "What is an Oops we did it again baby?"
Michonne froze for a second at the stove before flipping the pancakes.
Rick instantly knew this was a setup. He glanced over at his wife who was still preparing and serving their morning breakfast at the large kitchen island, where he had just taken a seat on his usual designated stool with Carlton on one side and the twins on the other. Michonne's back was to him. He couldn't plead with his eyes for her help if she didn't turn around and acknowledge that she heard what was being asked of him.
Early Morning story time.
His brain was always mush during the early hours. This would definitely be the hot topic until he got all three kids out of the car and safely designated to class. He was the chauffeur for his children eight and half-year-old Carlton, and a set of twins 6-year-old Abigail and Judith.
"Do you want pancakes, honey." Michonne kept her voice cheery.
"Yeah. Coffee. Please."
"Good, Daddy. We must always say please and thank you." Abigail informed him of his much-improved manners.
When Michonne set his plate down before him along with his piping hot cup of coffee, he made sure to emphasize, "Thanks, babe."
Rick noticed from the corner of his eye the overly exaggerated nod by Abigail. She was hanging on to his every word.
"Are you going to tell us how you met, Mommy?" Judith asked again. She was one to keep footnotes, placeholders in conversations whether it had meaning or not.
"What did your, Mom say?"
"She said to ask you."
"Why would she tell you to ask me. She was there. Michonne, how did we meet?"
"Why are you asking me? You were there too."
"One question at a time." Rick suggested. He was going to start with Judith's before discussing the real Oops baby who was eight years old and listening just as intently to the truth presented in a vague manner. "We met through your Uncle Shane when his communication skills weren't the best. If I had known your Mother was his girlfriend, I would have backed off. I didn't know based on how he communicated it to me. I didn't know your Mom and Uncle Shane attended Harvard. I went to Yale. I didn't know your Mom was a corporate Attorney. I thought she was fun but at a price. So what happened was-"
"If you don't stop, Richard Sinclaire Grimes, I will snatch your pancakes and pour out your coffee. Shane is trying to cause trouble and if you keep talking it will work. Eight years later it will work!"
"What?"
"I told them we met like in the Mermaid movie."
"You were Arielle?" The shock was all over Rick's face.
Carl smirked becoming more confident by being able to read his Dad.
"Yes!" Michonne confirmed to Rick he had the name correct to the red-haired character in the movie.
"A mermaid?"
"Yes, Rick."
"But you are afraid of water, Michonne." Rick pointed out why that lie would not work.
"See! I told you that story couldn't be true." Carl leaned forward to catch sight of his sisters when he spoke. "Mom, has yet to get in our swimming pool. Unlikely, she would be in the sea swimming around for our Dad to see from his big Yacht."
A/N: This is my attempt at one shot. Photo on Tumblr.
P.S. I just want those who are waiting for another Update for All I Need to know I was thrown off by the Anonymous review I got telling me there was no point to writing that story since Rick is dead or not on the show. I had to scratch my head because that particular story is different and carries the mental nuance of him and Michonne in an Alternative Universe. Le sigh. I will persevere because I enjoy it and hope those who continue to read my stories do too.