Latte by reciprocityfic

Rick still couldn't get Michonne out of his head.

He realized how silly it seemed. They'd spoken a grand total of around fifteen minutes in the two times they'd met. He knew absolutely nothing about her - except her mother's first name, her love for jazz and Nina Simone, and her beauty and kindness, her brightness and warmth.

And he knew that he couldn't stop thinking about her.

But, he resisted. To her, he was probably just a random cop who happened to be in a certain place at a certain time, which led to him being the one to respond to her call. He didn't want her appreciation towards him to turn to annoyance if he kept up with persistent and unexpected visits.

There was the matter of her boyfriend, too. A fact that burned inside him whenever he pictured the man she'd been with when he'd gone to check up on her, sharing easy banter and light laughs and casual touches together. The memory irked him, even though it had no right to.

So he ignored the pull he felt in the pit of his stomach, and vowed to forget about it - to forget about her - and let it all fade into the back of his mind just like every other routine, weekday call had for years. And until he managed to let it go, he'd stay away from that side of town. Avoid temptation.

He stuck to that plan for about a week.

He was driving home after dropping his son off at a friend's house for a sleepover, thinking about the night shift he was working tonight instead of where he was going, automatically making the memorized turns that would get him to his house the fastest, and not paying attention to the places he would pass on the way.

He stopped at a red light, and mindlessly stared ahead of him as he waited for the signal to turn green. That's when he saw it on the other side of the intersection - his new favorite coffee shop, standing out among the other storefronts like the most brilliant star in a clear night sky.

He stared at the little café as his heart pounded in his chest, the feeling inside him he'd been trying so hard to brush off tugging at him so profoundly it almost hurt.

A loud honk broke him out of his trance, and he glanced up to find the light had turned green. He pressed the pedal under his foot, and his truck lurched forward.

He slowed to a crawl as he passed the coffee shop, his foot letting up on the gas as his thoughts raced and he tried to decide what to do. The driver behind him slammed on his horn again, and Rick pulled over to the side of the road before he quite knew what he was doing, shifting his truck into park and turning off the engine.

He chewed his bottom lip as he stared into the shop's front window. It was early afternoon on a Wednesday, and the place looked fairly empty. He could see her standing behind the counter, as beautiful as ever, smiling as she handed a customer their drink. He peeked at his watch. He still had a few hours before he had to be at work.

"Fuck it," he muttered under his breath, grabbing his keys and wallet and hopping out of his truck. She did tell him to come back. Maybe she was just being nice, but he got the feeling she wasn't someone to make empty platitudes.

She looked up from what she was doing when he opened the door, a bell ringing to alert her to the presence of a new customer, and she beamed as she saw him. His stomach somersaulted.

"Rick," she greeted as he approached the counter, sounding genuinely happy to see him, a smile still on her face. "I've been wondering when you were gonna come visit me again."

The corners of his lips turned up.

"We've been pretty busy down at the station," he said, not mentioning his uncertainties surrounding seeing her again. "But I was passin' by, and thought I'd stop."

"Well, I'm glad you stopped."

He felt himself begin to blush, and he nervously shoved his hands in his pockets as he fumbled for something to say.

"Sorry I couldn't stay for the band last week," he told her. "I hope everything went well."

"It's okay," she assured him. "There's always next time. And it did go well."

"Did your boyfriend make it back on time, like you told him to?"

He closed his eyes as soon as the words left his mouth, groaning internally. He was aiming for a joke, but it wasn't funny at all. He didn't know why he thought it would be. It just sounded like he was fishing for information. He was fishing for information, kind of, but that was beside the point.

His question was met with silence, and when he managed to look at her again, she was squinting, her head tilted slightly to the side.

"Sorry," he scrambled, trying to save face. "It's none of my business. I shouldn't - "

"Do you mean Mike?" she interrupted, the same curious look on her face. "He's not my boyfriend. We tried dating once, for like, two weeks. But we've been best friends since we were freshmen in high school, and it was just...weird. We're perfect as friends, but completely less than perfect romantically."

He stared at her, and a coy smile appeared on her face.

"I don't have a boyfriend," she told him.

"Oh," he breathed, nodding once to try and clear his head. "Oh."

He didn't know what to say. He felt like an idiot.

"You want something to drink?" she asked, breaking the silence that had fallen over them.

"Uh, yeah. For sure," he answered, voice still a bit shaky. He peered at the list of unfamiliar drinks listed on the menu behind her.

Damn, he missed the Quick Mart.

He couldn't remember the name of the drink he'd had last week, and he decided he'd embarrassed himself enough for one day, so he scanned the options for one he was certain he could pronounce correctly.

"I'll have a latte."

"You got it."

She turned, and moved towards the shiny, unfamiliar machines lining the back wall. As he watched her make his beverage, a slow smile crept over his face. He felt lighter, somehow. Like someone had lifted an invisible weight off his shoulders.

He pulled his wallet out to pay as she returned with his latte, but she shook her head.

"I told you last time, your money's no good here."

The expression on her face told him he wouldn't get anywhere arguing with her, so he shoved his handful of bills into the tip jar instead. She rolled her eyes playfully, and a light laugh escaped his lips.

He glanced over his shoulder, catching a glimpse of someone standing in line behind him. Disappointment washed over him as he realized his time with her was coming to an end.

"I should get going," he told her regretfully. "I'm startin' a week of nights tonight, and I gotta get home and eat and shower before I go in."

"Of course. It was really great seeing you again, Rick."

"Great to see you too, Michonne. I'm glad I stopped by."

They smiled at each other, and he tipped his cup towards her. He began to walk away, but she reached out and stopped him.

"You promise you'll come back again, soon?"

Her eyes were wide and earnest as she waited for his answer, her expression soft. He gazed down at her hand as it clutched his wrist. His skin tingled where her fingers touched him.

He looked up at her, and grinned.

"Yeah. I promise."