The porch door swung closed as Rick walked in, the front door was unlocked and Shane's jeep was parked in front. "Hey man," a voice came from the kitchen.

Feeling his heart jump with excitement that he had long thought was gone, he tucked his keys in his pocket and sauntered over to where the voice came from. Shane stood there cooking an omelet looking rather content with himself at how much he knew his way around the place, it made sense considering Rick's house was a second home to him.

"You took a while getting here," continued Shane, biting on his lower lip and raising his gaze to Rick's. Placing his hand on his hips Rick raised his eyebrows and squint his eyes.

"Yeah well I drove pretty slow, can't compete with your reckless driving."

"So," Shane paused giving Rick a knowing look that suggested he should tell the story he teased him with much earlier. "You got anything you need to talk about."

"Oh. Michonne?"

"Is that her name?"

Rick nodded, his face getting flushed from hearing himself saying her name out loud when he had been just thinking about it for so long. "Ah—yeah," he bashfully looked at the floor.

"Well…how about it? Was she good?"

"Yeah."

"Yeah," Shane smiled widely, then flipped the omelet over using two spatulas.

"You don't have to stay. I don't want you to be late for your shift."

"You can't just tease me with a yeah and not go on from there. I told you all my nasty stories."

They were nasty, the sorts of stories that left Rick with newfound dirty thoughts that still lingered in his head from his adolescence up til this point. Rick wasn't sure if he could go into as much detail as Shane would or if his story would be anywhere near as saucy as his but he decided to give it a try.

"I just went to this bar, knocked back a couple and she just sorta approached me. We started talking, got friendly—"

"What kind of friendly?"

"Oh got to know each other…I got a lot off my chest, she was a good listener."

"C'mon man get to the good stuff."

"She just kissed me out of nowhere. She kept on giving me clues the whole time we were talking, I just didn't catch on or I didn't wanna."

"You've always been a little dense there. I tell you you're an attractive man and you just don't seem to believe it."

"Right, right…we took a walk and talked some more and she just kept on holding my hand. It was strange. I could remember it shaking but it could have been mine that had been shaking the entire time. She was really great, the things she'd say, she was so brutally frank. I think I had taken the truth for granted. Everyone kept on saying everything was going to be alright, she told me the same thing but in a different way, a more down to earth way."

Watching him talk about her Shane began to catch on that maybe this girl was much more than a one night stand to Rick. He immediately began to grow worried about him, his plan backfired. He wanted happiness in his friend, but a temporary happiness that could give him a boost a confidence, a brief distraction. But now he realized this wasn't him, this was Rick. Rick could form emotional attachments in a heartbeat.

"Is that right," he opened a cabinet above him and pulled out a plate and served Rick the omelet. In mid-thought Rick took it and sat down on a stool nearby. For a second he picked apart at the omelet before he began talking again.

"She was really beautiful you know, really exotic. Big brown eyes, dark skin that almost glowed…would you believe that, she glowed and this really great smile, she made me just feel so—so…out of her league."

"You probably are buddy," laughed his friend before he started beating some more eggs.

"We had sex in the alley. She just took me there and had her way with me."

"You didn't just lay there this time buddy?"

"No….NO. I'm not seventeen Shane, jesus."

"Alright alright."

"It was a real frenzy, it was hard to keep up with her, she was tearing at my clothes and begging me to tear at hers too. Real…real wild. Lori never did that…well when we were younger she did I suppose."

"Wild huh?"

"Yeah. It was a little scary you know. For a second there I was scared she was about to rip my dick off."

"Shit. Really?"

"Yeah," laughed Rick. "It was that great. I was scared I didn't exactly perform…" his mouth was full with omelet and he swallowed, "…up to par. But when we finished I didn't feel satisfied, not all the way. Our clothes were still on for the most part. I felt unfulfilled. I wanted more, kind of like when you eat a slice of pizza when all you really wanted was a steak. It's a shame, I felt like it was just a sneak preview, she just offered me half of her when I wanted it all…like some lovesick teenage boy. I barely knew her I don't know what I expected. I really made a fool of myself afterwards. It was awful."

"Well it was your first time."

"Shane I have a son."

"No you idiot. I mean just jumping in, it's a good thing, course it's going to be awkward. "

"How do you do it?"

"Not a lot of thinking is involved if you ask me. I think you're doing too much of that."

"You made coffee?"

"No I forgot, we could go pick up something…maybe some doughnuts too."

"I need to shower, I might be late."

"You're pushing it buddy."

"How many days have you been late nursing a hangover? You want me to count? I've had your back now you better have mine."

"Heh you're right. Some people might say you're having a breakdown, I think you're having a breakthrough," he leaned against the counter and began eating off of the skillet with the same fork he had used to scramble the eggs. Rick would have cringed if he hadn't already known Shane well enough.

—-

For once Michonne felt like she was going somewhere rather than nowhere at all as she previously had. Progress? Hardly, she just wanted to be happy. Happiness was a dream somewhere far away. She took a look around her surroundings. Disorienting street signs, people walking in a rush, cars centimeters from one another, the aesthetics of the city just weren't doing it anymore. She may have been taking it all for granted, it had been a home for hers' for a long time. The sidewalks looked just as soiled and gray as they did when she'd walk from her ratty apartment to her elementary school. Still she had the habit of trying to not step on the cracks, she loved her mother dearly, why would she wish harm on her? Made sense then, and it still made sense now.

A woman with her two sons passed by, both of her children wide eyed and holding either hand looking content. Michonne lowered her head. They must have been tourists.

With her coffee in hand she walked into the building where her firm was. They were pretty well known, there were commercials on television, ads in the phonebook, even billboards. Michonne wasn't on any of them yet, she had had that promotion just a month ago but no one really had asked. Maybe it was too early for her to complain, too early to leave. They had just put her name outside on the sign in nice big gold letters, she didn't like the font they used too much but she felt a little satisfied about how far she had gotten.

Staying seemed to be more of a viable option after all, she was being too crazy, taking too much of a risk. For what reason? Cause a man inspired her to?

"You have three messages, I put them on your table," the secretary peeped her head into her office. "Am I interrupting?"

"No. I'm just tired."

"Well if you continued on the same path of destruction you were on on Friday I wouldn't be surprised."

"Shut up you were drunk too," Michonne weakly smiled as she cradled her head. "And just so you know I stayed in."

"And what about that man you were really chummy with? Don't think I didn't see you."

"Oh him," her voice trailed off and she blinked slowly before composing herself. "We just talked."

"You left with him," they had finally reached the true reason for the small talk. There was sneer on her lips, her eyes bright with judgement, it sent an instant pang in Michonne's stomach. It was a bad idea inviting them, she found herself deeply regretting it.

"We talked some more, what else do you want me to say."

"Nothing at all I was just curious," she perked up, a suspicious looking smile on her lips. Michonne tossed any shame aside considering further inspection of her secretary's love life, she wasn't any better off. She shrugged and broke off any eye contact as her chair squeaked. "There was one call in particular that stuck out."

"Oh yeah," Michonne ducked her head under her desk and pulled out a box full of files and began rummaging through them.

"You know who I'm talking about."

"Right. I do," longingly Michonne stared at the post-it note that said that particular person's name along with a message that was scribbled in chicken scratch. It said something vague along the lines of please call me back. "The number keeps on changing doesn't it?"

"Yeah it does but I'm tired of taking your personal calls."

"It isn't," Michonne lifted her head and rested against her fist, her voice stern. "She wants to talk business, it's always business. And you're just doing your job, personal calls or not, you're my secretary. I swear if I hear one more time you complain—straight up to me, or in the break room or in the fu—in..in the ladies room. I will not hesitate for one second…to find a replacement."

Her secretary stood straight up suddenly, her lips pursed with choice words that she would save for when she wasn't around. It was sickening to know the cycle before it even occurred, these people were predictable. The place was ratty, no one had great records, jumping from one job to another, this woman in particular had been fired from her last job because she had stolen some money from the pawn she had worked at as a cashier. But she just happened to have an amazing ass, drawn on eyebrows, luscious lips and a habit for crossing and uncrossing her legs slowly. She would probably stick up for her if she hadn't been so rude and judgmental; it was clear the reason why she was there. But this reason only served to depress her further and rethink why she even bothered wanting to stay.

The men there treated the women like objects and she had kept on turning a blind eye to it and for what—so she could keep her high paying job? It didn't feel worth it. There wasn't a friend there to hold onto.

"I don't want to be rude, I'm sorry if I came across that way. You just have to be professional. You hear me…pro-fes-sion-al. And being professional isn't about asking questions, and you should come to me about complaints but it always seems to be about the wrong things," continued Michonne, feeling some sympathy towards her. She always had a way of being blunt, to the point that she could sometimes be cruel, she couldn't help it. "It's always about me."

Her secretary held her tongue and grasped onto the notebook in her hands tightly. "D-do you hate women," she broke suddenly.

Michonne gasped and nodded side to side. "Hardly what gives you that impression?"

"You're threatened by me."

"No believe me I'm not. The second I decide to smash my face into a foundation ten shades off from my original skin color, I'll give you a call," grumbled Michonne attitude clearly apparent in her voice.

"And those things you said about Emily…it was uncalled for. I don't even like the girl but I wouldn't invite my coworkers to the bar and leave her out just so I could talk crap about her. It's cowardly. "

"I see."

"The only reason any of us went was because we thought you were paying and you didn't."

"God damnit…where's the Davidson file," interrupted Michonne, it was unclear whether she was paying attention or not. Her secretary looked on in shock when her words didn't leave the impression she had been expecting.

"Who?"

"Alexander Davidson…the guy who went crazy and well—it's pretty self-explanatory. It was everywhere on the news."

"I-I don't know…Emily was in charge of sorting your files."

"Is she anywhere around on time for once? "

"She got here on time ma'am. She's in Jones' office right now."

"Oh," Michonne tilted her head and narrowed her eyes, her lips forming a pout. "Right," she dropped her head and smiled when she finally connected the dots.

"They're not fucking, or at least not right now," her secretary crossed her arms, an almost Cheshire cat-like grin forming on her lips. "They're talking about you, everyone's talking about you."

"What," Michonne's eyes widened.

"You shouldn't have even bothered coming in today. You look like you need a break."

"What? Why," her lips began to quiver, she couldn't remember half the things she had said about Emily. The whole weekend she was riding out the emotional rollercoaster between bliss and agony reflecting back on what happened with Rick, she could barely think back, that far back.

Suddenly the phone began to ring, Michonne's eyes shot straight to it to see it was an inside line calling…it was coming from Jones' office.

—

It's Monday Monday Monday we know you dread it but you got to get your butt off of that bed and go go go.

Rick shot up from his bed and slammed the snooze button. He had just done an overnight shift and had forgotten to turn off the alarm; usually Lori was the one who did it for him. Now with Carl gone there wasn't any reason for him to see the light of day unless he had to work or an emergency happened and emergencies rarely happened in King County. He licked his dry lips, tossed and turned a couple of times until he had decided sleep wasn't going to come back to him until it wanted to. Bones aching, and eyes dry and strained, he walked over to the kitchen to get a bottle of water. He dug it out of his dangerously empty refrigerator and twisted the cap off, his knuckles loudly cracking as he did so.

Not having eaten a proper meal for a while, Rick contemplated going to his favorite restaurant to eat. Watching the door he decided against it, he didn't want to go outside unless he absolutely had to. He scratched his face and then his belly, he had been sleeping in his boxers lately since no one was there to protest.

The trees creaked outside as the wind blew, he pulled the curtain open to see that it was about to rain. The sky was grey, and there was barely any light outside, he felt some sense of closure from this. The scent of the oncoming storm filled his home, he probably should have when he had gotten up. It smelled like green green grass, the sort of grass he'd lay in as a child. Maybe it was clairvoyance that he could smell it before it ever hit the ground, but it brought on a sense of nostalgia.

In a daze he rinsed out his coffee pot and searched for his can full of coffee grounds, when he opened the lid he was overwhelmed by the aroma, a smile spread across his lips. Maybe he would go out that day.

"You know Justine is single," a voice sang behind him as he was overlooking the menu at the King County Café. He cringed and turned around to see the owner of the place, she was an elderly lady, her husband had passed long ago so she found some amusement in putting her own two cents in everyone's lives. She meant well, he knew that but he felt that same familiar pang in his heart.

"Ah Justine who?"

"Over there," she pointed and loudly whispered, for some reason thinking it was stealthy to do so. The woman looked in their direction with a mixture of shock and embarrassment in her face and then quickly looked away. "You're close in age, she's of good breeding. Her parents own one of the bigger farms around here, she doesn't sleep around—"

"Stop there," Rick laughed. "You're going a bit fast. I need some time."

"To what? To heal? We're all ticking clocks, remember that boy"

"Alright are you going to take my order?"

"Fine what it is then?"

"Uhh Philly Cheesesteak and a soup…what soups do you have…"

"Well," she lifted her gaze upwards, "chicken…noodle soup….mushroom…and asparagus…or is it spinach. Don't try that one it's awful."

Startling the both of them Rick's phone began to ring, he quickly made a grab for it concerning him that maybe it was something to do with Carl. Instead it was a number he didn't recognize, he looked at it suspiciously. It was a local number but not one he recognized or had in his contacts. He rejected it and continued with his order.

When the food finally came by, he began to consume it quickly, his hunger suddenly apparent. A lot of things had been forgotten, he just wasn't aware of how bad it was. He was numb, in another world entirely. Sadly he looked at the empty chairs in front of him and to his side, he had sat down in his usual table. He was a creature of habit and without Carl and Lori, the food didn't seem to taste as great. In mid-bite it struck him to check his phone. There was a voicemail so he decided to listen to it just to distract himself, he figured it was a bill collector or a telemarketer.

"Hey, you said for me to call you. Well this is me calling you b-but HOLD ON LET ME MAKE MY FUCKING CALL. I HAVE RIGHTS YOU KNOW. Yes sir, I'm aware this is my third call and yes I'm aware that no one has fucking answered, this is my third voicemail that I'm leaving with someone. Let me leave my god damned voicemail then. I need bail I'll pay you back, it's alley-way girl and I'm sorry for a lot of things—" Then it cut off. Rick's jaw dropped open.

Michonne?