A Thanksgiving one shot. I'm very thankful for Nwfanmega and Sophiasown for their help with this story :)
xxxxxx
"Yay! You're here!" Maggie exclaimed, doing a little jump in the doorway as her guests began to arrive.
Michonne greeted her with a one armed hug, holding tight to the casserole dish she was balancing on the other side. "And I brought dessert," she said. "Caramel crunch cake. It was a Thanksgiving tradition growing up."
Maggie took the dish from her, smiling at Glenn who had appeared behind her and was wiping his hands on an apron. "And now it's a Friends Thanksgiving tradition!" he said, reaching in for his own hug.
Michonne smiled back, feeling her heart warm up to the idea of spending her favorite holiday in the less than conventional way. Her parents had recently sold her childhood home, moving to Florida to become official retirees, and with her demanding work schedule there was no way she could make a flight there and back. She was feeling a little homesick and Maggie's kind offer of hospitality was just what she needed.
She stepped into the house just as their friends Shane and Andrea pulled into the driveway, piling out of the car with their own food to share.
The couple ferried their various dishes into the house, handing them off to Glenn, before accepting a glass of wine from the bottle Maggie had opened. "I'm so glad you came, Michonne," Andrea said, when they had shrugged off their coats and settled in. "Happy Friends Thanksgiving!"
"Thanks," she said, greeting Shane as well. "I'm excited to see what this entails."
"Rick told us there was a Turkey Day football game planned," Glenn called from the kitchen, as he got to work sorting food.
Michonne cringed. She had forgotten all about the challenge she had accepted from Glenn's friend a couple weeks prior. They had both spent the afternoon at Daryl's watching the Falcon's game, and Michonne had impressed him with her knowledge of the sport. When Glenn mentioned that she would be joining them for the holiday this year, Rick had suggested a friendly match, to prove whether her skills had any practical applications. Now all she really wanted to do was to spend Thanksgiving eating and drinking, but she wasn't about to back down, especially not from him.
She didn't know Rick well; he was around infrequently at their get togethers. He was married when she first met him, then he wasn't, but he had a young son and a job as a sheriff's deputy that kept him pretty busy. Despite being practically strangers, or at the most friends by association, something about him made her want to keep up his high opinion of her. Maybe it was his intense eyes, and the way they were always analyzing the room, often falling on her, or the way he walked, all bow legged and sexy, or maybe it was just his painfully handsome face. Either way, she didn't mind the chance to further impress him.
"That's right," she replied, trying to drum up some enthusiasm from the room to make up for her own lack thereof. "And you are all expected to play."
Andrea scrunched her face up. "I don't recall agreeing to that. I thought that was the guy's thing."
"Why would it just be for the guys?" Michonne asked, feigning shock at her friend's sexist inference.
Maggie shook her head, having seen this plan come to fruition over a few too many beers. "Well, we're in. What time should we start?"
"Kick off, babe. What time should we kick off?" Glenn corrected, finishing his tasks and joining them in the living room.
"I don't know," Michonne shrugged. "I can't do all the planning. You'll have to ask Rick."
"Ask Rick what?" The man in question made his way through the front door, foregoing a knock, and with only Daryl behind him. No date, she noted, happily. He was carrying a six pack of beer and a grocery bag containing his store bought contribution to dinner, and Michonne had to chuckle at the bachelor move.
"What time is kickoff on the big football game today?" Maggie asked, earning a nod from Glenn.
It was Rick's turn to cringe. He had been hoping Michonne might forget about the suggestion. He just got off a double shift the day before, and was looking forward to a day of stuffing himself with Maggie's home cooking and taking up residence on their couch. "After we eat, of course," he declared, hoping to put up a confident front.
"Fine," Andrea said, accepting that she wasn't getting out of it. "But the first one of you jerks that tackles me is in trouble."
"We're playing touch football, babe," Shane said. "No one's gonna get hurt."
Sasha and Tyreese arrived next, followed by Tara, then Abraham, and Rick began making a mental note of how he was going to stack his team for the best possible showing. He'd made a big deal out of Michonne proving her skills on the field, but the truth was, besides tossing the pigskin around with Carl, he hadn't played in a really long time. Attempting to flirt with Maggie's pretty friend might have just earned him a bruised ego, if not a few real bruises. He was forming a strategy in his head and sipping a beer when the doorbell rang again. Maggie jumped up to get it.
"Hey Mike!" she said, opening the door to reveal a man whom Rick did not recognize. He was holding a couple of bottles of wine and a big, white box with the label of a very fancy, very trendy bakery in town. "Glenn, Mike's here."
Glenn greeted his guest with a handshake, leading him into the living room to make his introductions. "Mike and I play poker together," he explained, going around the room with everyone's names.
"It's really nice of y'all to have me," he said, openly admiring Michonne as he chose the seat next to her on the couch. "My family was supposed to be coming in from up North, but they got snowed in."
"That's too bad," Michonne offered.
"Seems like maybe it worked out for the best," he said, smiling at her.
"Glenn didn't tell you we were playin' football today, Mike?" Rick asked, trying to bring Michonne's attention back to the plan they had hatched together. Mike was dressed in pressed trousers and well shined shoes, despite Maggie's insistence on a casual dinner.
"He didn't," Mike said, with a gleaming smile. "But if that's the plan, I have a gym bag I keep in the car with a change of clothes. Count me in."
…
After Maggie had forced everyone to declare what they were most thankful for, and Glenn had carved and served the turkey, the table erupted with chatter as the friends passed around side dishes and shared various conversations. Mike had taken the chair next to Michonne, to her slight disappointment. She found Mike's conversation easy and pleasant enough, and she was glad to not be the only new addition to the long standing event, but she had been hoping Rick might quietly slip into the spot beside her, like he often did when they were in the same room. Instead she took the opportunity to watch him from across the table, enjoying the way the soft lighting in the room made his eyes look an almost surreal shade of blue. She felt a team of butterflies take up residence in her lower belly when he ran his tongue along his lower lip after a sip from his glass.
There had been a couple of times in the past when she swore she was reading a sign from him; a lingering look or a moment of interaction that had turned tense in a good way. Now he seemed content to chat about sports and work with Shane across from was possible she had just imagined them, she thought, taking another sip of her wine, but the way he was eyeing Mike with unearned displeasure as they chatted, made her think she might be inadvertently making him jealous. She smiled inwardly at the thought.
…
Shane was occupying the conversation as usual, while Rick kept one eye inconspicuously on Mike and Michonne chatting across the table. He was getting more irritated by the minute. He'd been working up the nerve to ask this girl out for months and she had been saying yes to that and much more in his fantasies for even longer. He was looking forward to using the cozy holiday atmosphere to bolster his move, but now it seemed he was going to have a little competition.
He thought for sure she had been giving him signals; the way she playfully teased him about his ever present cowboy boots while batting her thick eyelashes at him, or how they always somehow ended up as part of the same conversation, no matter what the topic, when the group got together. Now Michonne seemed content to chat with their new guest and he was stuck on the other side of the wide table, unable to hear that smooth voice that he loved to imagine moaning his name.
When dinner was winding down, Maggie stood to begin clearing the table and Michonne joined in, gathering plates and serving dishes and walking them into the kitchen. Mike seemed to make no move to join her, and Rick took that as his cue. He grabbed his empty beer bottle, and as many others as he could carry, and made his way to where she was.
"'Scuse me," he said, sliding into the narrow space between where Michonne stood and the door of the refrigerator. He pressed his fingers softly against her back to make his way past, and she felt a little shudder go through her entire body.
"Sure," she replied, pressing closer to the counter to give him room. "So, almost game time. You ready?"
"Sure am," he said, fishing a beer out of the fridge and offering it to her. She gestured to her unfinished glass of wine and he kept the bottle for himself, leaning against the fridge to look her up and down. She definitely hadn't imagined that, she thought with a well hidden flush of her cheeks.
"You play a lot?" she asked, turning away from his gaze to continue drying a dish.
"Enough," he lied. "I played receiver in high school. That was a long time ago."
"Oh," she said. "You're good with your hands, then." Her cheeks burned as soon as she heard the innuendo that she had accidently made, though she couldn't help but steal a glance at him to catch his reaction.
Rick popped the cap off of the beer he was holding, cocking his head with a smirk that told her he'd picked up on it too. "Guess I am. You got a favorite position?" he asked, deciding to continue with the double entendres.
Michonne matched his playfulness, enjoying the cocky grin hanging off of his full, pink lips, framed by a healthy amount of dark stubble. "I'm open to trying anything," she said. "Maybe you could teach me a couple new ones?"
Rick swallowed hard, beginning to have a physical reaction to the banter they were sharing. He shuffled his feet beneath him, and stood up a little straighter. "We still talkin' 'bout football?" he asked, bringing his bottle to his mouth and staring at her while he took a sip.
"Hey. You two comin'?" Mike interrupted with a smile aimed at Michonne. He poked his head into the kitchen, startling them from their staring contest. "We're heading out to pick teams."
"After you," Rick said, allowing Michonne to lead the way. She made sure to put a little extra sway in her hips when she felt his eyes on her ass.
…
When Rick and Michonne made it out to the field, Shane and Abe had already begun organizing the game. Shane made the decision that since it was Rick's idea, the two of them were captaining one team and, to Rick's dismay, he assigned his co-conspirator Michonne to captain the other team with Daryl.
The rest of them were lined up, shivering against the wind and waiting for their team assignments, while Glenn marked the edges of the field of play by dragging a stick in the layer of frost, turning the ground from white to brown.
When the boundaries were properly defined, the two sets of captains took their places at the center of the field, ready to draft their players. Daryl flipped a coin off of his thumb, letting it land on the back of his hand while Rick scanned the available options. He revealed it in dramatic fashion and Michonne grumbled, seeing Rick's pick appear. Shane turned to his co-captain with a grin, ready to confer on their first pick, but before he could say a word Rick pointed to the line of players and shouted for Mike, waving him over.
Shane scrunched his face and stared at his friend, questioning his strategy. Tyrese had played semi-pro football after college and Abraham had about 50 lbs on the rest of the men in the line-up, but Rick had picked the new guy in the fancy sneakers.
Daryl bit the inside of his lip to keep himself from laughing. It was quite clear to him, knowing Rick better than the rest, that if Rick wasn't going to be on Michonne's team, Mike wasn't either. The selfish play served their team well, and he whispered to Michonne, "We gotta pick Ty." She called his name across the field and both men trotted over to their respective sides of the field, Mike looking just a little sullen despite being the first round pick.
Shane shot Rick a look, letting him know he was not making anymore choices by himself, and promptly called Abraham over to their team.
Michonne and Daryl whispered again, settling on Sasha as their next choice, and she pumped her fists in the air as she made her way to her new team.
"Why am I having flashbacks of being picked last in high school P.E class?" Tara yelled, as another round went by with Shane taking Glenn, and Daryl picking Maggie.
"No kidding," Andrea muttered, already losing interest in the game. "Can't we just go back in and eat pie?"
Deciding the last remaining choices would do little to sway the outcome of the game, Shane offered to forgo the draft and just split the line up, Andrea going to him and Tara going to Daryl and Michonne.
"Ok, listen up. This is two hand touch, no tackle and no grabbing clothes." Shane eyed Andrea as he laid out the rules, and she made no effort to pretend she was listening. "Pick your quarterbacks and meet at the line in 5."
…
"Rick's throwing," Shane announced, when his team had huddled up. "Glenn, you and me are receiving."
"Mike and Abe will be blocking," Rick added on, glancing at Andrea with a questioning look.
"Andrea, honey, why don't you hike the ball to Rick and then just get out of harm's way," Shane said, sweetly. Andrea shot him an icy glare in response, but made no complaints about her assignment.
The team split up and walked to the line of scrimmage where they were met with Daryl and Ty putting everyone into position. Rick took his spot behind the wall that Abe and Mike were making and looked over at his competition. He briefly noted Michonne's position, and then prepared for Andrea to hike him the ball.
Andrea got into position in front of Rick and he couldn't help but curse Shane, picturing Michonne bending over in front of him, her tight ass in the air while he coached her on hiking him the ball. He decided he could make up for it though, if her being on the opposite team gave him the chance to place two hands somewhere on her body when she had the ball.
Despite their misgivings, Andrea sent the ball expertly through her legs, directly into Rick's hands and he paused briefly to be impressed, before reaching back to ready his pass. He scanned the field for his team, finding Glenn tied up with both Maggie and Tara covering him just outside of the makeshift endzone.
He searched again, taking a couple of shuffling steps to the right to avoid Sasha, who was quickly blocked by Abe, and he found Shane being largely ignored. He sent the ball in his direction and Shane caught it easily, running halfway to the endzone before Michonne stopped him with two hands on his elbow.
"Nice tag," Mike said, complimenting Michonne with a high five and a wide smile.
Rick was watching them carefully, and Michonne playfully tossed her hair over her shoulder and smiled back at Mike, making sure to be spotted. She chuckled to herself when Rick immediately shouted for his team to return to the huddle, sending Mike to the opposite end of the field.
They set on the new line, same positions as before, and Rick waited for Andrea again. Quickly proving her last set was a fluke, she hiked the ball up over Rick's head, causing him to take multiple steps back to retrieve it. He leapt, grabbing the errant ball from the air with one hand and once he had landed back on the ground, quickly took inventory of his receivers, finding them all easily covered.
Sasha again slipped through the line with Ty putting up block after block for her as she zigzagged through Abe and Shane. Rick noticed her advance, but his focus had caught on Michonne. She was sidestepping Mike, shuffling just out of his reach as they danced back and forth, laughing.
Rick caught Abe out of the corner of his eye, finally putting a stop to Sasha with two hands on her shoulders, and he took the opportunity to keep watching as Mike caught up to Michonne, placing both hands on her hips, as she threw her head back and giggled. He was momentarily spellbound by the sight when he suddenly felt someone shove his shoulders hard from behind, and he dropped the ball.
"Sack!" Daryl yelled as he reached down to grab the ball from the ground, throwing a playful elbow into Rick's side. Daryl glanced over at Mike and Michonne who were laughing as they both walked back to the line, preparing to face off again. "That backfired," he whispered knowingly to his opponent.
Shane called a huddle and used the time to coach Andrea on her job while Abe gave the rest of them a rundown on what he had observed from the other team. Rick wasn't listening to either man as his gaze crested the tops of his teammates' bent heads and landed on Michonne again. She was laughing with Maggie, and little puffs of warm air were blowing from those pretty lips of hers as she spoke, capturing his full attention.
"Rick!" Shane called. "You get that?"
The whole huddle was looking at him now. He hadn't heard any of what was said, but he lied and nodded affirmatively. They broke again and resumed their spots. Shane's coaching seemed to have helped Andrea, and Rick was able to get a clean pass to Glenn. The younger man easily trotted into the endzone placing them on the scoreboard and eliciting loud boos from their opponents.
…
The two teams switched sides and Sasha set up to quarterback. Michonne took her position, scanning the field and her eyes fell on Rick as he tossed the ball back and forth with Daryl. The air was cold, but the exertion of the game had him warm enough to roll the sleeves of his button down shirt up past his elbows, and she perused the muscles in his forearms flexing as he reached back for his pass. As if he could feel her eyes devouring him, he turned over his shoulder, giving her a smile that threatened to knock her off her feet, then hustled to take the spot across from her before Mike could.
She shook her head to beckon her thoughts back from the gutter as he got into position in front of her. "'Bout to be a tie game," she taunted.
His mouth curled into a smile at her confidence. "We'll see how she does," he said, nodding toward Sasha just as she snapped the ball.
Michonne pivoted left and quickly rushed past Rick, as he turned to follow her down the field. To his obvious chagrin she outran him, easily making it to the goal line many feet ahead of his reach. Sasha however, had chosen to send the ball to Maggie who was wide open. She caught the ball easily, running halfway to the goal before Glenn stopped her.
"Did you see that?!" Maggie exclaimed, earning a pat on the back from her teammates.
Laughing, Michonne headed back to the line, calling over her shoulder to Rick. "Wanna try again?" He decided he definitely did, and reclaimed his spot.
Sasha was like a sniper, hitting her target time after time, as she moved her team down the field. They were only a couple yards away from the goal when she threw a long pass to Tara who was running full force, with Andrea hot on her tail. Rick was keeping up with Michonne this time, her eyes locked on him with a piercing stare, and he spotted Tara about to run right into her. He quickly grabbed Michonne around the waist, pulling her out of the way as Tara stopped short to avoid the collision. Andrea, however, wasn't able to stop in time and barrelled right into Rick, her shoulder connecting hard with his nose.
Andrea screamed and Michonne brought her hands to her mouth, as he let go of her and dropped to his knees in pain.
…
"Christ's sakes, Grimes," Shane laughed. "Who the hell gets taken out in a touch football game? And by Andrea no less." He led the way into the house and Andrea and Michonne both followed them in to help. Rick had his head tilted back and his fingers pinching the bridge of his nose in an attempt to slow the trail of blood dripping from it. "I'm so sorry, Rick," Andrea said, pleading her case with her eyes. "I feel like shit."
"It wasn't your fault," he replied graciously, his voice coming out nasally and muffled beneath his hand. "And I'm fine."
"You're not fine," Michonne said, leaning in for a closer look.
Shane dropped a few ice cubes into a dishcloth and wrapped it up in a neat package, handing it to Rick. "We need that for the cocktails, so don't use the whole bag," Shane said, propping an arm on the center island and watching as Rick cleaned the remaining blood off of his face with a paper towel. He took a seat in one of the kitchen chairs, replacing the paper towels with the ice pack Shane had handed him.
"I'm really, really sorry," Andrea repeated, while Shane continued to chuckle at the situation.
"Why don't you guys go ahead back," Michonne offered, annoyed with Shane's terrible bedside manner. Andrea was trying not to gag at the bloody mess that Rick was leaving in discarded towels on the counter and she felt like they had both outstayed their usefulness. "They can't keep playing if everyone is in here. I'll stay."
Rick sat up a little straighter, suddenly feeling lucky for the injury if it was going to give him a few moments alone with Michonne. He watched Shane and Andrea file back out of the house, and pressed his fingers to the side of his face to assess the damage.
"Guess Andrea should stick to watching football on TV," he said, when they were left alone.
"I guess so. Thanks for saving me out there. I'm sorry about this."
Rick gave her a nonchalant shrug. "Figured it was better my face than yours. This is far too nice to bruise," he said, gesturing to her visage with a crooked grin. He glanced down at his plaid shirt which was now streaked with blood, and casually started unbuttoning it, revealing a tight white t shirt beneath it.
Michonne felt her belly doing summersaults and she turned to the counter to retrieve more paper towels for his ice pack, and to hide the smile that was forming on her lips.
"Are you sure you didn't just set this up to get out of guarding me?" she teased, stealing glances at him as he shrugged off his top layer, his arm and back muscles rippling beneath the tighter shirt.
"What? Because of this?" he scoffed. "Give me a couple minutes and we can go again." He smiled with his whole face, instantly regretting it as pain shot up the side of his nose.
Michonne took the ice pack from him, wrapping it tighter and placing a paper towel under it, before returning it to his nose. She held it there for him as she inspected the rest of his face. "You're going to have a black eye," she said, peering closely at the purple splotch that was already starting to appear just above his right cheek.
Rick summoned every ounce of self control he had to keep his eyes on her face as she leaned forward, her scent invading his space and her perfect breasts practically skimming his chin.
She held the ice pack gingerly with one hand, using the other to brush back his hair while she inspected, and he could feel his dick start to press against the zipper of his jeans. "It's worth it if you're gonna keep doin' that," he whispered, reaching out without thinking and resting his hand on her hip.
She stopped her ministrations, a rush of warmth radiating from where his palm lay, straight down to her center, and she lowered her eyes to his. "This?" she simpered, running her fingers through the thick curls at the back of his head.
Rick took the ice pack from her hand, tossing it on the table between the pumpkin and chocolate cream pies, and squeezed at her flesh beneath his fingers. He pulled her closer until she stood with her legs on either side of his, and he let out a quiet growl as she continued to rake her fingers on his scalp.
Michonne's eyes went wide at his brutish reaction, her confidence building as he continued to undress her with his eyes. She stared back at him, replaying every suggestive remark they'd made to each other, and gave him a lustful grin. She wasn't sure how a poorly matched football game had turned into this, but Friends Thanksgiving was quickly becoming her favorite holiday.
"I was thinking maybe you and I could go out sometime," he proffered. He knew exactly where this was going, but the gentleman in him wanted to at least attempt a proper request. "Maybe we could grab a bite to…"
His proposition was cut short when she captured his mouth with hers, and he had no complaints about skipping past the part where he had to think and speak clearly. Her tongue pushed past his lips and his base instinct shoved all chivalry aside as he pulled her onto his lap. She scooted forward pressing herself into the rock hard bulge in his jeans.
Rick's face was throbbing as their mouths and noses pressed together frantically, nipping and tasting each other's lips, but the pain was the least of his concern. In fact, he was surprised he was even able to feel any other part of his body besides where she was straddling him. He inched his hands up her sides, squeezing and kneading at her flesh as he moved.
Michonne moaned into his mouth when his palm skimmed the side of her breast and his thumb circled around her stiff nipple beneath the thin fabric of her shirt. "You are so sexy," she said, running her own fingers across his firm pecs, while her other hand still clutched at his hair.
"God damn it, Michonne. If I had known this was gonna happen, I'da let Andrea hit me in the face a long time ago." His hands slid down her back, cupping both cheeks of her ass as he stood, lifting her with him, and turning to set her on the kitchen island.
Michonne giggled, her mouth still latched onto his, and she reached out blindly behind her, pushing aside the dishes and bottles that were left littering the counter top. Rick came to stand between her legs, pushing her backwards with his chest until she was reclined on her elbows, and he dropped his mouth to her dainty collar bone. His tongue darted out to taste the smooth, dark skin of her neck, stopping to nibble on the soft flesh beneath her ear. He reached up again to cup her breast over her shirt and she pulled in a sharp breath of air when he squeezed, hard.
"How's the first aid going?" Andrea said, coming through the door with Tara beside her. They were both getting tired of the game and had convinced everyone to pause for a dessert break. Tara skidded to a stop, as she rounded the corner to the kitchen, coming upon the sight of their two friends sharing a different kind of dessert on Maggie and Glenn's counter top. They were both too consumed with each other to notice the intrusion, and Tara brought one hand to her mouth to stifle her laughter, the other reaching out to stop Andrea before she entered the room.
"What the hell?" Andrea whispered, when she spotted Michonne wrapping her legs around Rick's waist while they pawed at each other. "How are we supposed to get to the pie?"
"I think dessert has been postponed," Tara said with a snicker.
"Well, I certainly don't feel bad about his face anymore," Andrea said. "I think they should both be adding me to the list of what they're thankful for."
Tara's eyebrows shot up when Rick pulled at the t shirt Michonne was wearing, slipping his hands beneath the fabric as it came untucked. "Should we leave, or tell them we're here?" she whispered, her mouth hanging open as she watched her friends round the bases.
"Look," Andrea said, still more concerned with the dessert, "they're blocking the pies, but I think I can reach Michonne's caramel cake without them noticing."
"Grab a couple forks," Tara called in a hushed voice.
Andrea crept into the room on her toes, holding one hand over her mouth to keep from laughing as she reached from the doorway to the hutch where some of the food was displayed. She had just wrapped her fingers around the casserole dish when she heard the front door open, and Maggie's familiar laugh echo through the hall. Tara quickly shushed her, wrapping a hand around Maggie's mouth, while Andrea slinked back into the doorway with the stolen cake and utensils.
"Oh my God!" Maggie whispered into Tara's hand, before she released her with a finger to her lips. The three of them watched Rick and Michonne inadvertently knock the bakery box that Mike had brought off of the counter in their attempt to strip off the cardigan that Michonne was wearing and toss it aside. The box crashed to the ground, spilling pastries everywhere, but neither one of them reacted, still struggling to see how much of each other they could touch without taking anymore clothes off.
Andrea handed the cake to Tara and passed out a plastic fork to each of them, as they took turns scooping dessert from the pan.
"This is ridiculous," Maggie giggled with a mouthful of cake. She pointed with her fork at Michonne as she hooked her fingers around Rick's belt, tugging at it until it came undone. "Are they going to do it right here in my kitchen?" She stole another forkful of caramel topping, settling in to find out.
"I guess it depends on how long we let them go," Tara said, going in for another bite. She shoved the cake in her mouth just in time to hear the door open again and Abe's booming voice demand to know why they hadn't brought out the pie yet.
"What in damnation is taking you three hens so long to bring out the goodies? Some of us have actually been playing the game and have worked up an appetite…" Abe came around the corner to where they stood and stopped short when he caught the lot of them. "Well, well, well," he bellowed.
The three spectators froze, and Michonne and Rick cursed simultaneously, scrambling apart as Abe let out a loud guffaw.
"Abe," Rick said, clearing his throat and pulling Michonne's shirt back into place as nonchalantly as he could. He helped her down from the counter and she reached up to wipe her lipstick off of his face.
"You two just in here giving thanks?" Abe laughed.
Glenn and Shane came through the door next, pulling up behind the traffic jam that was starting in the hallway.
"What's going on?" Glenn asked, innocently.
"I thought dinner was over," Abe chuckled, "but Rick and Michonne are still buttering the biscuits."
"Alright," Rick warned, running a hand through his tousled hair. He glanced down at the state of his own clothing; even if he had tried to deny what they were doing, his undone belt and very obvious tent in his pants gave them away. He grabbed Michonne by the waist, pulling her in front of him to hide the evidence. "You wanna get outta here?" he whispered in her ear, and she nodded, reaching for her discarded sweater and pulling it on.
"We're gonna go," Rick said, slipping his hand into hers and fishing his keys out of his pocket. "You can finish the game without us."
The two pushed past the snickering crowd, making their way out of the house.
"At least he's got a better chance at scoring now," Shane laughed, sending a conspiratorial elbow toward Glenn.
"Enjoy your dessert," Michonne said, tossing a look at her three friends, still sharing the pan of cake.
"You too!" Maggie yelled after them to a chorus of laughter. "Happy Friends Thanksgiving!"
