Sous Couverture

A/N: Based on a prompt by kendrawriter on Tumblr. AU Richonne. Rick is a crime boss and Michonne is the FBI agent who was meant to bring him in. Instead, she must work with him to bring down a larger criminal network. Can she keep her attraction to Rick from getting in the way of doing her job?

Thanks to yunalili at Tumblr for the name suggestion: It means undercover in French.

This is an Alternating POV Dark Fic. Lots of smut and violence. You have been warned. Enjoy!

Prologue

The Grimes Family owns and operates an illegal firearms racket in King County, Georgia. It is run by the ruthless Dixie Mafia Boss, 'Daddy' Gene Grimes. Daddy Gene has been in exile for some time after a bitter war with a rival organized crime family in neighboring Woodbury. Grimes Farm is a front for the weapons business. The eldest son in the Family, Rick Grimes, used to be in law enforcement, specifically a Sheriff's Deputy; he had a falling out with his father because of his criminal activity. His younger brother, Jeff, was involved in the family business, primarily running guns to local gangs and militia groups, but Jeff got into selling drugs.

One evening, Jeff called Rick asking for help. Drug kingpin, Phillip Blake, also known as the Governor, was threatening his life. Rick found his brother at an abandoned factory in Woodbury. The Governor wanted Rick to pull strings as a law enforcement officer to get the heat off his drug business, Rick refused to help. As a result, Jeff was killed on the spot and there was an explosion at Rick's residence simultaneously: His wife and baby daughter were also killed that night. After inflicting Rick with a serious head injury that left him in a coma, The Governor escaped and went into hiding. When he had recovered, Rick took over the weapons racket and vowed to track down the man who hurt his family. This was five years ago.

Presently, Michonne Bourdain is a Special Agent with the Federal Bureau of Investigation's Criminal, Cyber, Response, and Services Branch. She is a skilled undercover operative who has infiltrated the money laundering operations of the Grimes Family business, posing as an accountant. Rick Grimes is about to be indicted, when he makes a deal with the FBI: He will lead them to the notorious crime boss who is known only by the name Negan. But he has two stipulations. His first: He is given immunity from any crimes committed after the deal was struck with State's Attorney, Andrea Harrison. His second: that Michonne Bourdain continues to work with him undercover.

Michonne's POV

"Is it all there?" I ask as my eyes shift from the portly, balding man standing before me, to the briefcase that contains crisp, new banknotes. They are stacked atop one another; each grouping totalling two thousand dollars.

His thick fingers trail over the money briefly as the tip of his tongue pokes out from his thin lips; a glint of light present in his grey, cold eyes.

"It's all there," he replies. He peels his gaze from case only to stare at my chest again; my braless breasts are pert under the top. The flimsy blouse I am wearing feels as if it is plastered to my skin; its coarse fabric causing my nipples to stiffen. The room is small and hot, and we occupants are all perspiring; this man is clammier than the rest of us. I don't take my eyes off of him as I step forward. A small stream of sweat rolls slowly from his brow; he uses his swarthy hand to wipe it away. I swallow my disdain.

"You won't be offended if I double check?" I question.

"Not at all, darlin'," he answers, with a thick Southern accent, as he closes the case and slides it across the tabletop. I pick it up and take it to the note counter on the corner desk; the device is at least ten years old, but it still works well and is accurate. I take up a seat, open the case, and begin to remove the money. Rick Grimes sits silently at the table, directly adjacent to the man. Two other men, armed with fully-automatics, stand behind Grimes.

"Is it true what they say?" he queries.

"What do they say?" Grimes responds; I find myself glancing in their direction a brief moment.

"That you were law man, once upon a time."

Grimes clears his throat and leans forward, resting his arms on the table.

"Yeah," he drawls. "It's true."

I stack the money into the note counter and hit the start button.

"Shit," the man says while crossing his arms over his protruding belly. "How the hell you get mixed up in all o' this, then?"

"You know what? You ask a lotta damn questions," says one of the men with the guns. He takes the lit cigar from his mouth and taps his hand against his firearm. His name is Ford and he is rarely seen without army fatigues on.

"What can I say? I'm a curious sumbitch."

"Is that a fact?" asks Ford, a menacing grin on his face. "Well, let me tell you somethin' about curious sonsofbitches: They wind up dead around these parts. You catch my drift?"

The man laughs a little, not realizing how much in danger he really is. I've witnessed Ford break some other guy's jaw for accidently nudging him.

"My sincerest apologies. I mean no disrespect. I'm just tryin' to get the conversation goin' while we wait for Mr. Grimes' lovely assistant to finish up with the cash," he explains as he looks in my direction. Grimes glances at me as well, before looking back at the man whose gaze now lingers on me. "One more question, though: Where on earth did you find her?"

He drums his sweaty hands on the table and ogles me. I keep my eyes trained on the notes as I go about my business.

"That ain't your concern," Ford answers for Grimes, who raises his hand to let his henchman know he will allow the line of questioning.

"Why d'you ask?" Grimes inquires.

"She must be good to have around," he states. "Makin' sure you ain't gettin' short-changed and whatnot. Bet she knows how to suck a dick real good, too. With those lips, damn. Come on now, Grimes, she's gotta be suckin' your soul out, I mean, why else would you let a woman around your business if she wasn't…"

My nostrils flare but I keep counting and stacking while that prick keeps talking shit; in this line of work, there's always some asshole making crude remarks. Grimes gestures to Ford to step closer and holds his hand out; Ford passes the cigar to him. In a split second, the burning end of the cigar is slammed onto the top of the man's hand.

"Fuck!" he screams as he pulls it away and stands; his eyes wide with surprise, his skin burning. "What the fuck!"

The two men behind Grimes aim their weapons at the hysterical man in front of them. Grimes stands, gets them to lower their guns, and then steps around the table to his frantic customer. He gets close to him and the man freezes in place. Grimes leans in and says evenly, "Watch what you fuckin' say about her."

"Rick," I say as I close the case. "It's all here."

Grimes keeps his cold gaze on the deflated man.

"Thank you," he offers. "Abraham, get this asshole his shit and get him the fuck out of my sight."

…..

Rick's POV

"Abe, take the case in the car with you. Emm, ride back up to the Farm with me," I say as we all leave the dingy little cabin.

The guys nod as Abraham says, "You got it, Boss."

She hands over the case and then follows behind me; Spencer goes to get out from behind the steering wheel and open the door for me, like he always does, but I wave him off. I hold the door open for Emm and she climbs into the back seat. I go to the other side of the car and get in beside her. She smells good. She's fucking intoxicating in every single way; she keeps her eyes straight ahead. I glance sideways at her; her skirt is hiked up a little. A light sheen of sweat covers her skin; that damn top is clinging to her. I wonder if she'd tell me to stop if I reached my hand over right now and touched her between her legs?

I don't know if it's because of her seeing me hurt that prick, or the image that he invoked of her perfect lips around my cock, that's got me heated. Maybe it's both. Maybe it's because for these past eight months, I've been thinking about fucking her more and more. It's a frequent train of thought for me lately. Especially on those late nights when she stays back to go over the books for me. I visualize bending her over that desk in my Daddy's study and fucking her until she comes. Right now, I'd be content to slip my hand inside of her panties and finger fuck her until she comes. I bite my lip, wondering what she would think of me if she knew what I was thinking. My dick starts to press against my jeans. She looks over at me.

"He was a real charmer," she says sarcastically of my newest customer. I snap back to reality.

"He's lucky I didn't bury him," I reply. "I don't think he'll be back again."

She smiles a little; God, she's sublime.

"No," she offers. "I don't think he will."

…..

Michonne's POV

Discreetly, I check the time on my wristwatch; it is almost ten-thirty and most of the people who work for Grimes have gone home. Those who remain at his residence to protect him and his interests are silently doing their duties at their respective parts of the property. He and I are the only ones in the large, faintly lit study. He is sitting at his desk sipping from his glass of whiskey. He's just sitting there staring at me; I stare back at him. I don't ask if I am allowed to leave. If I was, he'd tell me to go. Instead, he is sat across from me, saying nothing, and staring with those piercing blue eyes.

"You sure you don't want the transfers to go through this week?" he asks as he knits his brow. "You've more than earned it."

"It's too much at the moment," I reply. "My accountant has been asking questions."

He sits up straighter in his chair.

"You need me to take care of it?" he asks; I shiver at the coldness of his tone.

"No, Rick," I say. "I'll get it under control."

He nods his head and downs the last of his drink. His eyes are on me again. The intensity of his gaze makes me want to look away; I don't. Instead, I offer him a smile.

"What was that for?" he asks, and his features soften. "That little grin just now."

"No reason," I reply.

"Emm," he urges. "Tell me."

"It's just, I noticed earlier that you've shaved," I say as he subsequently runs his hand over his chin. "And it only just occurred to me that I've never seen your face like that before."

He smiles a rare, genuine smile and his eyes light up. It startles me. I'm not used to it.

"You like it?" he asks suddenly, with something akin to hopefulness etched across his features.

I shrug, "Yeah. But then again, I liked the beard, too. Come to think of it, I like the beard better. Sorry."

He lets out a quiet little laugh and raises his eyebrows.

"Well I guess that settles it then," he says. "I'm not gonna be shavin' again for a while."

A silence falls over us and I swear this man is flirting with me. I go to speak again, just as his phone begins to ring.

"Sorry," he offers. "Hello?"

I start to search the dark, wooden walls of the room; taking in the few family photographs hanging upon them. He has mentioned before that it is his father's room where he used to conduct his illegal business. Now that notorious crime boss, 'Daddy' Gene Grimes is in exile in some nonextradition country, his son sits in his place; King of his domain.

I try inconspicuously to listen in on his phone call. From his hushed tones, I conclude it's one of his women. Probably the pretty, blonde one who is married. Or maybe the unhinged, auburn-haired beauty. Could be the young, light-skinned one. Who knows? What I do know is he'll be giving me my leave soon. He ends his call, places his phone back on the table, and gestures towards the bottle of whiskey.

"You want one more?" he asks. I shake my head.

"No, thank you," I reply, as I finish off my drink. "I should get going. Did you need anything else?"

I swear he looks disappointed, but then his expression changes and he appears stern once more.

"Nah, I'm good for now," he says before standing; I do as he does and get to my feet, picking up my purse, as he adds, "Thanks for today."

"You don't have to thank me, Rick," I answer. "It's my job."

He nods and then walks me to the door.

"See you tomorrow," Grimes says, as I step out of the room and amble down the corridor.

I turn and say, "Goodnight, Rick."

I feel his eyes following me as I make my way down the stairs. A tall, slim man opens the front door for me and I step through. As I walk to my car, another car approaches; it's the blonde, married one. She parks, gets out, and hurriedly heads for the front door. I search my bag for my keys and then glance back up at the house, feeling as if I am being watched. I see Rick Grimes standing in the window of his quarters looking down at me.

…..

Rick's POV

My hands hold onto her hips as she rides my dick. I watch her tits bouncing as her mouth opens again. Her high-pitched whimpers are almost annoying as she slides her bald pussy up and down my cock. She calls my name as I thrust upwards into her. She leans backwards and grinds faster. I ease up and let her do all of the work. I'm exhausted, but I want to get off. Fuck, I just want to get off. I close my eyes and let the pleasure wash over me. My breaths are shallow and quick.God, I want to come and then get her out of my bed. I clench my eyes tighter and imagine that it's Emm who's fucking me. Fuck she's tightening herself around my dick. I'm close now. I can picture her in all her naked glory writhing on top of me. Her perfect lips parted as she moans my name and rides me. Her juices dripping down my hard cock as she comes for me. Fuck, I breathe. Fuck. I come and fill the condom with my seed. I try to catch my breath as she continues to ride my throbbing dick. I open my eyes and remember it's not Emm straddling me; it's someone else and I don't care if she's not finished.

"Move," I say, as I hold the base of my dick and lift her from off of me.

"Rick? No, baby, please," she begs.

"You should go now," I say as I roll the used condom from my length and drop it to the floor. "I'm takin' a shower. Don't be here when I get out."

I step into the adjoining bathroom, run the shower, and let the water drown out the sound of her sobs.

…..

Michonne's POV

The doorbell rings and I know it could only be one person: My handler, Glenn Rhee. I open the door to see him standing there with the pizza. I ask him to come inside while I go and get some money: This is our cover.

"They're taking down the target tomorrow at his residence," Glenn says as I search through my purse. "Pressure's coming from the top."

"It's too soon," I reply. "Besides, I have some new intel that could change things for this whole operation. How quickly can you get word to the Chief?"

"As soon as I leave from here," he answers. "But what's the intel?"

"The target's driver told me that they're in talks with the Saviors. The target's been working his way through their ranks to get a meeting with Negan."

"Negan?" asks Glenn. "Are you serious?"

"I am," I reply. "The target hasn't told me about it yet, but if there's a chance that he will get to meet with the upper echelons of the Saviors, I should be brought into the loop soon, even before the money changes hands."

"Michonne, I don't know if they can stall it, even for this," says Glenn.

"At least tell the Chief, please," I plead.

"Okay," he replies. "I will. But be ready for the take down if they go ahead with it."

"I will," I say as I hand over the money. "Thank you."

…..

Rick's POV

I love that fragrance she wears. It wafts around this place and makes it feel alive. I know where she is just from her scent. Something strange tugs at my chest when I see her standing in the study, staring at the photograph of me and Jeff when we were boys; him smiling widely with a fish at the end of his pole and me looking proud of him.

I get a few feet into the room before she turns to me. A small smile gracing her pretty face.

"Hi Rick," she says. "This picture is really nice. I don't know if I've told you that before."

I nod my head and offer her a weak, "Thanks."

"It's you and your brother, right?" she prods further. I don't really talk about my little brother anymore. I've bottled his memory away in that small place deep down inside of me, where I keep my wife and my daughter. It hurts too much to think of any of them. So, I don't, not really. Yet somehow, Emm has this ability to get me to open up. I can't explain it.

"Yeah," I reply as I stand next to her and glance at the old photo. "Was a long time ago."

"Which one are you?" she queries.

"The proud big brother who didn't catch a fish that day," I say as a sad smile plays on my lips.

"I'm sorry you lost him," she says suddenly, placing a comforting hand to my upper arm, before she takes a seat. All I do is nod and sit down.

"A couple of guys from Kentucky are coming up today to make a purchase," I explain. "Haven't dealt with them before, but the Dixons vouch for 'em. I know it's short notice, but can you come along with me today?"

"Of course," she says, all business.

"We're leaving in twenty minutes," I say, and she nods.

"Okay."

…..

The old abandoned barn seems like a good a place as any to conduct business. Abe and Ty stand near the cars, while Emm and I sit at the table. She stares straight ahead and doesn't say anything as we hear a car come to a halt outside. Two men get out and are patted down by my people. Ty brings them in and stays inside for the meeting.

"You didn't have too much trouble findin' this place?" I ask.

"Nah, man," the shorter of the two answers. "Google Maps is a helluva thing."

"What can I do for you today?"

"We'd like to have a look at some of your merchandise, hopefully make a purchase," the other one says.

"Hand guns, mainly. Startin' a little community watch group."

"I don't need to know your plans," I reply.

"All right, man," the shorter one says. "But you've got hand guns, right?"

That's an unnecessary question. I know what they're here for, but the fact that this guy keeps saying 'hand guns' is making me feel paranoid. I stare him down and then look to his partner. I gesture for Ty to step forward.

"Where'd you say you were from again?" I ask.

"Kentucky."

"And you came all this way to do a little shoppin'?"

"Yeah."

"I see."

"Look, are you gonna sell us the guns or not?" the taller one asks. I tilt my head to the side and then reach for my Colt, aiming it at the shorter one.

"Get on your knees," I demand, pressing my revolver against his forehead. "Ty, get Abe and check the perimeter again."

"Take it easy, man," the kneeling man pleads.

"Who are you? Feds?" I query. "Tell me."

"We're nobody," the taller one states. "We're just a couple of guys."

"Bullshit," I say, while cocking my hammer and stepping closer. Just as I am about to pull the trigger, I hear the sound of another hammer being cocked at the side of my head.

"Drop it, Grimes," says Emm firmly. "We're FBI and you're under arrest."

A/N: Next chapter is up already.