A/N : I know. I know. How I missed you, I do hope you missed me. I can't believe this story reached more than 100 reviews, like seriously? How sway? The day I posted it ( thanks to my amazing beta Winterscorpion ) I would have never think that people will actually read it. But you did, and you reviewed it and favorited it and followed it. And for all of that, I'm so grateful. I don't know what to say except thank you from the bottom of my heart. You have no idea what that represents to me, your reviews are hilarious and so spot on. B&B is the first story I wrote after years without writing anything ! Anyway thank you very much to Carribean Queen who helped me a lot with the first part of this chapter, she's incredible really !. Big thank you to my two betas that I love very much Winterscorpion and my brain twin Blackgirlfairy. Chapter 8 & 9 are done, so the wait should be shorter than for this chapter.

This chapter is Grimes heavy, how about a brunch with them ? For those interested I posted a face claim in my Tumblr : EveAlacran. Please don't hesitate to review. Thank you !

BAD AND BOUJEE

Chapter 7 : We would love to meet Michonne.

Throw it up, throw it up
Watch it all fall out
Pour it up, pour it up
That's how we ball out
Throw it up, throw it up
Watch it all fall out
Pour it up, pour it up
That's how we ball out

As the music began, she stepped towards the pole, every night she worked, it was the same routine; readying herself for the night, dancing, collecting her coins and going back home, a little more moneyed but still exhausted. It never seemed to change, rinse and repeat until the day she'd finally be done - leaving and never looking back.

Strip clubs and dollar bills
I still got my money
Patron shots can I get a refill?
I still got my money
Strippers goin' up and down that pole
And I still got my money
Four o'clock and we ain't going home
Cause I still got my money

Michonne was a perfectionist in everything she decided to do, she couldn't approach something without playing smart and her dance moves reflected that. She tried to learn new moves everyday and practiced them until she nailed them. Working twice as hard as anyone else. Deanna often referenced her as one of her best dancers, one who had the power to perfectly exemplify effort and sex appeal with just one lift of her leg.

Money make the world go round
I still got my money
Benz make your girl go down
I still got my money
Lot more where that came from
I still got my money
The look in yo eyes I know you want some
I still got my money

She took a deep breath and put one of her henna tattooed hand at shoulder height, the other above her head. Her concentration focused on the titanium pole as her body was about to become one with it. She raised her right leg to hip level, her right instep hooked on the inside of the pole with her right knee on the outside of it. She pulled her body up, her left leg was wrapped around and she ascended to the top.

Ohhhh oh ohhh
All I see is signs
All I see is dollar signs
Ohhhh oh ohhhh
Money on my mind
Money, money on my mind

Michonne resembled the proverbial ballerina in a jewelry box, the pole appeared to impale her but it was the contrary. At pivotal points it anchored parts of her and allowed her elongated body to rotate around it. Her long pink hair flew as she gracefully spun around the pole which was like another limb.

Michonne was in her own world, shutting everything down around her, she wasn't Michonne anymore, she was Layla. Confident, sexy Layla. This was one of the reasons she'd chosen the name, the word meant "night" in Arabic,but also seductive. It was just a role to play to get the job done. Every night, Michonne was left behind in the dressing room with her civilian clothes, leaving Layla to take the stage. She had to keep her eyes on the prize, while all eyes were on her.

I still got my money
Gold all up in my grill
I still got my money
Who cares how you haters feel
And I still got my money
Call Jay up and close a deal
I still got my money
My fragrance on and they love my smell
I still got my money

Slowly, her legs unhooked from the pole and she ascended it once more. Her amazing physique held in the air merely by an extended arm connected to the pole which allowed her to rotate her shapely toned legs gracefully. Her smokey eyes were closed while her heart shaped mouth, painted with red lipstick, curved into a tiny smile.

So who cares bout what I spend
I still got my money
My pocket's deep, and they never end
I still got my money
I'm going dumb with all my friends
I still got my money.

She stay perched there momentarily, her right leg crossed over her left, as she began to twirl on her descent, her head falling away to the side, her hands released their hold on the pole and her body fell away as she inverted. With each spin her hair obscured her face, hiding her expression from view as she whipped around the pole.

Throw it, throw it up
Watch it fall off from the sky
Throw it up, throw it up
Watch it all fall out
Pour it up, pour it up
That's how we ball out
Throw it up, throw it up
Watch it all fall out

She let herself slide slowly down the pole , carefully "falling" on her back. She rolled over and stood up sensually perched on her 6 inch transparent heels, her hot body pushed against the chilled pole, her graceful hands flowed sensually up her thighs towards her chest, while her hips moved rhythmically to the music.

Ohhhh
All I see is signs
All I see is dollar signs
Ohhhh
Money on my mind
Money, money on my mind

The tiny grey bikini she wore was shining in the dimmed light. Her body rolled, hands grabbing the pole, as she started twerking her marvelous ass. At her feet, green bills were steadily covering the stage, showcasing what all of this was really about; Layla made good money for Michonne. Money she needed to fulfill her needs and deepest dreams.

Pour it up, pour it up
That's how we ball out
That's how we ball out
That's how we ball out
That's how we ball out.

###################

"Your frontal is neat," Sasha said admiring the pink lace wig on her friend's head. "How did you do that? Every time I try it never looks natural like yours."

Michonne loved wearing wigs when she worked at the club, it helped her stay connected to the persona she'd created in order to work there. Today she opted for a unusual color, which had, had its desired effect on the thirsty customers.

"Do I look like a YouTube channel?" Michonne replied, a frown marring her pretty features. She took her two-phase cleanser and started wiping her makeup off, but Sasha's diligent eyes on her was stressing her out. She stopped what she was doing and looked at the other woman. "I sent you a video the other day, why don't you ever watch them?"

Sasha kissed her teeth and shook her head. "Now that you're in relationship, you don't know how to act."

"You said the same thing to Maggie," she reminded Sasha as she completed her task, her friend doing the same.

"Anywaaaaaay, how are things going with the Golden boy?" Dhe asked.

Michonne smiled. "We're good. Really good."

"Does he plan to come see you dance one day?" Sasha inquired. "I've never see him here, except to come pick you up outside in his hillbilly car. "

"Nope, I don't think he wants to," Michonne replied with a laugh. She took her wig and cap off, freeing her sweaty scalp.

"And I asked him not to ever show up here," Michonne added quietly.

"Why not? Shane always comes when you aren't here," Sasha informed with a wicked smirk, "I think it's kinda sexy, like you may dance for them, but you only have eyes for your man."

Michonne was still unsure of what to think about Sasha and Shane's blossoming relationship. They were a beautiful pairing, nobody could deny that, but they were also very different and at the same time very alike. Of course, she was beyond happy for her friend. Sasha was particularly picky about the man she chose to share her time, whether it was a one night stand or long term relationship. Sasha felt like time was money and money was precious, so Michonne figured Shane must have been something special.

"I'll leave that to you," Michonne answered, she refused to mix her relationship with her job,

"It's already hard enough to dance for those strangers while my man is at home or work–"

"Don't tell me you're thinking about quitting for him!" Sasha exclaimed, throwing a menacing look at Michonne.

"No I didn't say that! I'm just saying that things change, Sasha. Things that make me think differently, ok?"

"Hunny, you have to secure the bag, before you secure the man." Sasha advised her. The dressing room was nearly empty except for them sitting in their regular clothes. The latter was deep in her thoughts playing with her necklace. A gift from her mother for her birthday, the last one she'd shared with her, it was the one accessory that was always on her person no matter what she was wearing, or not wearing.

"You never said that when you were with Mike. " Sasha remarked as she tied her hair into a ponytail.

"I know," Michonne replied rolling her eyes. "Because with Rick things are different, it's different. We had a proper conversation about all of this, so I can understand his point of view like he understood mine."

"Yeah, I feel you, but.. " Sasha trailed off while she retrieved her bag from the floor picking up the money they had earned that night and shook the bag full of cash in front of Michonne, it had been a good night. "Look at all of this, Chonnie! Do you want to give up all this extra sauce in your lasagna?"

Michonne sighed. "Sasha, this has always been a temporary thing, I've been stripping for 3 years now."

"And?" Sasha quizzed, blinking. "You said until your birthday remember?"

Sasha was in full investigation mood, she could have been the best detective in Atlanta, her friends were sure of that. The young pair met 3 years at their former strip club named Terminus. They hit off immediately, like two long lost twins sister who'd finally found each other after years apart.

Michonne loved Sasha's fiery and funny personality while Sasha was fond of Michonne's intelligence and kindness. That first night, they'd talked for hours, both explaining the reasons why they were there. Michonne was determined and motivated to work her ass off. Things hadn't turned out how she'd imagined they would, but still she had a plan to follow. This was why Sasha was confused at her expressing her desire to leave.

"Yes, I do!" Michonne exclaimed. " Like I told you, I'm not going to quit yet, so I need you to relax."

"Did he ask you to stop?" Sasha said, trying to comprehend Michonne's change of mind.

"No, not once has he asked that of me, " Michonne responded frustrated. "Everything I'm telling you is coming from me. My personal thoughts Sash. The next 4 months will be complicated that's all. Can we talk about something else, please?"

Sasha stood up and followed Michonne who had thrown her stuff in her bag without paying attention to what she was doing in her rush to end the interrogative conversation by leaving. Sasha halted her friend's hasty exit with a comforting hand on her shoulder. "You know I only want the best for you. Chonne."

Michonne exhaled, her irritation decreasing. "I know, I'm sorry "

"No need to apologize," Sasha dismissed her and linked her arm with Michonne's. "Did I ever tell you about that girl who came on my blog asking questions about stripping?"

"No, you didn't," she answered with a little giggle. They were so busy between school, work and their love lives that they'd a hard time catching up with each other. There were still the messages in the group chat, but nothing could beat an old fashioned girl's night. "What did you say?"

"I told her to run me my check."

###################

"You're late Richard," a disembodied voice scolded Rick the moment he set foot onto his parents' back garden with his brown boots.

It was a lovely day, overflowing with generous sunshine and warmth, the perfect weather for Sonia Grimes to host their weekly brunch outside.

The house was separated into two different, one floor wings. Each side opened up onto a beautiful, tiled courtyard. It wasn't overly large, but it was beautiful. The furniture was obviously expensive but not flashy. A round dining table sat a few feet away from a grandiose fire pit that was crackling with fresh logs. A few potted trees lined the corner of the courtyard. They perfectly matched the ones planted in the wide open green space the area opened out to.

Rick ogled the table garnished with the best dishes, savory and sweet, money could buy. Smoked salmon and all kind of eggs from poached to scrambled just to name a few.

A adamant fan of French gastronomy, his mother always had the best homemade bread at her table, accompanied by croissants straight out of the oven. Rick was pleased to see that she'd even thought about his favorite grape juice.

"Hello to you too, Cindy," he replied with a fake smile, shaking his head. She was being annoying and she knew it.

"Your sister is right," Sonia said from behind him, she was approaching the table with a platter full of waffles in her green army mid-dress. Her jet black hair tied up into a impeccable bun, "Where have you been?"

"Mom," he greeted her, dodging her question, he took the platter off her hands, "Nice to see you. " Rick leaned into her and placed a gentle kiss on her cheek.

"Take a seat darlin'," his mother invited him. He could feel his body tense as it always do when he was in the matriarch's presence. "You have a lot of explanation to do, boy. Start by telling me why you are late. You are aware that our brunch always start at 10 am right?"

"Yes. I was with Shane," he explained taking a seat next to his sister who was engrossed in her phone. her plate full of bacon and waffles drowned in maple syrup. "And we lost track of the time."

She hummed and nodded her head, Rick could sense that she wasn't finished with him. He forced himself to fill his plate before his mother added it to her list of reprimands against him.

"I hope you weren't watching that stupid game of yours? " she inquired raising her brow. His mother and Michonne shared a loathing for soccer, the only difference being that Sonia never tried to attempt to feign interest in it.

"No, we weren't, " he replied spreading his scrambled eggs onto his toast, "We played video games."

"Oh, was it Assassin's Creed," Cindy asked finally showing interest in him, "Last time I beat Shane's–"

"Cindy!" Sonia exclaimed, "Mind your language. And don't you dare roll your eyes at me."

Cindy scoffed, "I wasn't rolling my eyes, I thought I heard a helicopter." she lied blatantly. Sonia glared daggers at her daughter. Cindy's insolence was starting to wear her down. It was one of the reasons she had sent her away. Cindy bowed her head, her eyes back on the screen of her cellphone.

"And where were you last Sunday, " Sonia continued her interrogation as if nothing happened, " You weren't a Church for the Easter service, nor did you attend brunch afterwards. And before you start, I am already aware that you were not working that day. Is there something I should know son?"

Rick sighed, his mother was nosey. Sometimes she was truly concerned, but most times it was just her rabid curiosity rearing its ugly head. She couldn't bare the thought of not having behind the scenes access to her children lives, pulling the strings, like the puppets they were for her.

"I was tired, so I stayed home and caught up on some sleep," he replied, knowing full well that last part was a lie. He spent the day with Michonne in Target where they stayed three hours when they were just supposed to buy one item. The rest of their day consisted of watching Black Panther for the fifth time, before he ended it perfectly Sunday with Michonne sitting on his face. "I work a lot lately."

"One of the perks of working in the family business, " she started, the work conversation never far away, "Is that you can see the family more often."

Rick pinched the bridge of his nose, "Mom, please, can we not do that today?" he pleaded, already jaded from the familiar words and sentiments coming out of her mouth.

His mother raised her hands innocently, her disappointment with the path Rick had decided to take obvious. She had always had grand expectations for her only son. Ever since he was young, Rick was perfect. He was a good student and got into the football team where he quickly became Captain.

He was popular, his last name helped him of course, but his behavior was the main reason of it. Everybody wanted to be Rick Grimes or hang out with him. Yet he was still young so she never gave up the idea that one day, he would finally accept the destiny she imagined for him, the same course her own parents had mapped out for her.

They ate in a partial silence, since Cindy's phone was ringing nonstop and the young woman hadn't uttered a word, was giggling loudly. Sonia pressed her lips together, and let out an exasperated sigh.

"Cindy, honey, " her mother called, "Can we have a brunch where we aren't bothered by your phone or your silly giggles?"

Cindy turned her cell phone off, exchanging a look with Rick who could feel a throbbing sensation building in his head. He closed his eyes to calm his growing nerves caused by the "Sonia effect". She was a draining person, he suspected his father immersed himself in work everyday to escape her.

"I'm sorry," she apologized, "I was just reading messages from my friends. They were sending jokes… but… I will stop. "

"Everything is a joke to you," Sonia admonished her.

Cindy and Rick were like fire and water. She was the one with the rebellious nature while Rick was the responsible one, always listening to anything she said before diverting away from her plans. Rick understood the importance of hardworking quickly, when he wanted something he would put all his efforts to make it happened, unlike Cindy who was counting on everyone else to do the job. She wanted the perks of the wealthy life without the responsibilities. Sonia couldn't accept it.

"You are 21 years old. Don't you think it's time for you to grow up Cindy! At your age your brother was the first in his class at the Academy."

"No need to- "

"And the school that we are paying a lot of money for, is that a joke for you too?" Sonia asked, cutting Cindy's sentence short. "I saw the results of the last semester, and they are disappointing."

Rick shifted in his chair, running a hand through his hair wishing the earth would open up under his feet and swallow him whole. Anything to avoid this confrontation between his mother and sister.

"You are too hard on her. I saw them too, they aren't that bad, " he interjected. He couldn't let his mother tear down his sister without saying something, "Cindy is one of the best students at that school and you saw what she did to my place."

"Rick, I know you want to defend your sister but that isn't your place here," her mother hissed with a little smile. Her tone was pleasant but her brown eyes were hard and her stance was rigid, "Being one of the best is not sufficient. You have to be the best. Like I told you when you designed Rick's home, you could have done better and you have to. This is the career you chose. You are a Van Graan-Grimes so you can't settle for anything less than excellence."

"Oh my God Mom! Do you still think that I want to be an interior designer?" Cindy yelled, her voice shook with anger. She curled her fists and had to keep herself from screaming or bursting into tears. "I want to be a singer, so, stop mom! "

"We always have difficulty choices in this life baby girl."

"Oh please," Cindy hissed, rage clouding her chestnut eyes, "Keep your speech for the ones who believe in it!"

She knew she was wrong for addressing her mother in this way, but at the moment she just didn't care. She wished she was as brave as Rick. Quit her school and live the life she had always dreamed of, take her own path. Damn it, after all it was her life, wasn't it? But she was too afraid of the woman scolding her.

"Control yourself and your language right now! Your father had spoiled you too much," Sonia snapped, livid in her rage. "I'm going to need you to readjust your attitude, young lady. I'm tired of hearing you whine and complain ever since you returned from Spain, and I will not tolerate–"

"Sonia," a firm voice called. Sonia huffed and turned her fiery green eyes to the owner, "Would you please, leave our daughter alone?"

Cindy mouthed a 'thank you' to her father, grateful for his arrival. She loved to pretend this situation didn't affect her, playing the strong girl who didn't need a relationship with her mom, but that wasn't the case.

She was 5 years old when she learned that she was adopted after an altercation with her idiot of a neighbor, Garrett who was 7 at the time. Like all children their fight seemed monumentally important. Both children of privilege and used to getting there way, where the lower the blows the better they felt. Cindy's advantage over the spoiled little boy could not be withstood. Not when he knew he was better than her in every possible way. In the most important way, in his young mind. Wanting to cement his ultimate victory, he delivered the lowest blow he could think of and exclaimed to her shocked and teary face that she wasn't a real Grimes. That her whole life was a lie and she was a fraud.

She had never seen Rick so furious when she ran to him seeking the comfort of the only family she had ever known. Desperate for him to deny the brat's claims and assure her that even though she looked so different from them she was truly a part of their family. Truly a Grimes. She dismally watched as his face went from zero to fury in five seconds and knew the devastating truth. She watched sadly as Rick strode over to Garrett's 15 year old brother James to have a little chat.

The normally calm and collected teenager was quickly gone when that idiot of James said the same words to him. Rick connected his fists to his face over and over again in front of his neighbor's door. After multiple attempts, Shane finally succeed in separating an uncontrollable Rick from James. He was grounded for a month after the incident, but he couldn't have cared less. Unfortunately, it wasn't the last time he had to use his fists and hear similar crap about his family.

He repeated her that no matter her skin color, or the fact that they didn't come from the same womb, she was, and would always be his sister. Rick loved being a big brother, despite their ten year age difference he was very close to Cindy. She was his favorite person. He taught her how to ride a bike, how to fight and never stopped believing in her. He brought the best out of her, like he did for everyone in his life.

Cindy had had a hard time accepting that she wasn't a biological Grimes. A lot of questions fused in her head and everyday she asked them to her mother, who never took the time to properly reply. Her only answer was that her parents were away and that she was here, nothing else was important.

She grew up and stopped torturing herself when the answers never came. She needed to stop digging in her past and accept the fact that Sonia Van-Graan Grimes was her only mother, the woman who adopted her, gifted her with this beautiful life and Wayne Grimes, the best father she could have ever asked for.

Things were good, until her relationship with her mother started to crumble. Cindy felt like she was grown and couldn't take her overbearing attitude anymore. That time of her life, she like to dub as the Dark Ages was made even more difficult by the true loneliness she felt. Rick was away in his police school, while their father drowned himself in his work. Their grandmother was sick, and their grandpa was no longer the jovial, funny old man they all loved. They became this wealthy, broken family that didn't know how to heal. Or maybe just didn't want to.

Rick was the only person that was able to put a smile on her face. Her dad tried too, but no one succeeded like her brother. He took her on impromptu road trips every weekend, away from the tension in their house. She was only 10 but was acutely aware of the unbearable tension in her home. When Rick became the prodigal son, Cindy hated to admit it, but it felt good to not be the only rebel child.

She missed the special relationship her mother and her had from her childhood. The easy smiles and the warm spontaneous embraces they once shared evidenced in the expensive framed pictures she loved to look at to reminded herself of the good days. Cindy wished things were different, that they could talk about everything like they used to; the good and the bad, anything to hear her mother address her with words that weren't criticisms.

"Wayne," Sonia replied her voice resuming its usual honeyed tone, "Would you kindly not interrupt me when I'm talking with our daughter."

Their parents started a staring contestant. Each knowing that the subject of Cindy was always sensitive one for the both of them. His father loved Cindy dearly. As far as he was concerned she was his little princess that he refused to not spoil.

They frequently argued about it with Sonia lashing out at her husband, unsatisfied with the way he behaved with her. She felt like Cindy put a spell on every man in her house. Am I jealous? She often wondered. If it was true, what kind of mother would that make her?

"That's enough," he said abandoning the contest to put bacon on his plate. "Rick is there, the focus should be on him. "

Rick massaged his brow with his hand. He hated being the center of the attention. He usually left that to his sister, with great pleasure. She was born to be a star and he to thrive in her shadow.

"How are you son," Wayne asked, his eyes matching Rick's blue ones bored into him.

Rick shrugged, "I'm good, dad."

"There is something I wanted to talk to you about," Wayne informed, when he saw Rick's wary face he quickly added "It's not about this hotel project, not today."

Rick gave his father a questioning look then he glanced at his mother and sister who indicated with shrugs and shakes of their heads that they had no clue what was the something.

"The other day while I was on my phone, " he started, "I saw an interesting picture of you, Cindy and a mysterious woman. Do you know what picture I'm talking about Rick?"

"Wait, dad," Cindy interjected, worry coloring her high pitched voice, "Since when do you have Instagram? And why are you following me? " Cindy couldn't believe her ears, and since she had no idea what name and picture he used for his account, she couldn't even block him.

"Because, I want to know everything that's going on in my daughter's life."

"That's embarrassing," Cindy exclaimed "You need to unfollow me please. "

"Well, Rick, speak." Sonia requested, intrigued by the identity of this woman. Her assumptions were right, changes had occured in her son's life, and she seemed to be the only one left in the dark about it.

"Yes, I know what picture you are talking about," Rick answered, "Her name is Michonne, and like Cindy wrote, she's my girlfriend."

Rick had planned to announce it to the rest of his family at some point but he just wasn't ready to share Michonne with them. They were good in their own bubble, away from his judging mother and opinionated father that he was reluctant to see it burst as he knew it would eventually, once his family became involved.

Sonia saw it the minute Rick pronounced Michonne's name. His entire demeanor softened, for the first time since he arrived at her mansion his jaw was untightened and his whole face lit up. Her son was in love.

"And she doesn't have a last name? And where does she come from?" Sonia asked, her eyes narrowed.

"It's Simone. Michonne Simone," he replied, "And she's from downtown Atlanta."

"She's a great woman," Cindy gushed with a huge grin. She felt like she had known Michonne forever. She was the big supportive sister she always dreamed of having.

Sonia raised her eyebrows at Cindy's information. She didn't like what she heard, she couldn't trust her daughter's arbitrary judgement. To Cindy, everyone was great, except her mother. Rick appeared too smitten to face the ugly truth, so as always she had to ask the questions her husband would never dare ask. Wayne was already preoccupied with the work related messages he was receiving to go any deeper than a passing curiosity of the new woman in his son's life.

Sonia cleared her throat, "Honey, are you sure about this?"

"What do you mean? " Rick asked. He leaned back into his chair with his arm around the empty chair at his side. Here we go, he thought derisively.

"What I meant is, just be careful," his mother replied,

"People in our position always have to be very careful with who we … associate… with. We never know if people who aren't like us, want us for who we are, or for what we have."

"Michonne isn't a gold digger mom, " Rick retorted, irritation pricking at him," I can assure you of that. She is an independent woman who earns her own money. She doesn't need mine and has never asked for it. "

His mother's face was unreadable, showing no sign of approval or disapproval which was good because he was in no mood to debate about Michonne with his stubborn and narrow minded mom.

Sonia was a hard woman to please. He knew she wouldn't accept his new relationship instantly. Not like she did when he was with Lori who she envisioned as the perfect daughter-in-law; pretty, from a wellbred family, with roots that went far into the southern aristocracy. She always repeated how it was a shame that he hadn't given Lori another chance.

Sonia tilted her head, reminding Rick exactly where he inherited that particular habit, pursed her lips and finally spoke, "So, just how long have you been seeing this Michonne?" She asked, raising the hackles on Rick's back with the way she pronounced Michonne's name.

Rick lifted his shoulder in a half shrug, "We met about 2 months ago."

"That's pretty recent, " she commented, squinting her eyes as if she was thinking, "Do you see this relationship going far?"

"Yes, mom, I do. " Rick answered without skipping a beat. He crossed his arms over his chest and stared back at the six pairs of eyes that on him, refusing to let them see how uncomfortable they made him.

"Bring her to dinner as soon as possible ," Wayne requested, a corner of his mouth lifted. "We would love to meet Michonne."

Rick stroked his beard while everyone at the table waited for his answer. Cindy was sure he was going to decline and felt her eyes widen when he nodded his head.

"Oh boy, it's going to be fun! " Cindy exclaimed, sarcasm heavy in her voice.

"You better be on your best behaviour, " Sonia warned her pointing her finger, "Don't you dare embarrass me in front of you brother's girlfriend!"

Cindy rolled her eyes and blew a harsh breath " When have I ever embarrassed you, mom? When? "

Rick zoned out the rest of their conversation, his mind taking him away of the war zone.

###################

Clinging to the green lush grass by her shoes, Michonne's nostrils were filled with the smell of the foliage that reminded her of the country air. It was sickeningly sweet. She took a quick look around her, in awe of the house in her peripheral.

The word "big" wasn't enough to describe it. It was the biggest home she'd ever seen, more opulent and grand than any place she could think of. The water in the large, kidney shaped pool was perfectly blue. It made a beautiful contrast to the pinkish hue of the sun setting in the sky above it.

Even the grass she was standing on was perfect. Lush, neatly trimmed and made for rolling around in. Michonne felt a little overwhelmed, it was almost too much. She knew Rick came from money, but to know that a home this amazing was the kind his family's owned was something else completely. It was beautiful, but it also made her a little nervous.

Michonne rocked her body back and forth, watching the object of her desire eased her mind. She drew her lower lip between her bright teeth, her eyes ascending from his crystal blue ones, to his kissable pink lips and ending their wander at his lean chest. He had more muscle in his arms, God those arms, they could be so strong when they tore off her clothes, in a hurry to have her naked, but also so gentle when he embraced her body until she found sleep enveloped by them.

"Michonne?" the sound of Rick's voice startled her from her musings, "Did you understand or do you want me to repeat?" He asked with a lopsided grin. He knew she was checking him out. Her hungry eyes more focused on his arms than in the ball.

He was trying to explain the rules of soccer in the simplest way possible. But the task was proving more difficult than he thought. It wasn't Michonne's lack of interest. On the contrary, she was very concentrated and ready to give the best of herself.

The blame lay on the decidedly distracting outfit she had adorned her downright sinful body with. She was exquisite in his red Ryan Giggs jersey shirt, the color was perfect against her ebony skin. It was too loose for her petite frame, but she had remedied that issue by knotting it snugly behind her back, exposing a sliver of delicious skin at her waist. She paired it with the same kind of black shorts that she saw women players wear.

Her growing locs were out of her face in a messy bun, her bare face in full display with her lips plump, her captivating lamb's eyes and her long delicious neck. His eyes roamed over whole her body, appreciating the masterpiece God had gifted him with.

"Yes sir, I understand," she replied innocently. "But the fact that you're such a hot coach helps a lot."

Rick chuckled. " Oh, really? You have a thing for coaches then?"

Michonne winked at him, playing with one of her locs. "Only when they look like you!"

"For now, let me teach you how to dribble," he said. "Then we will see about the rest." He put the ball back on the grass. "The point of dribblin' is to get to the other team's goal without losin' possession of the ball." Michonne nodded her head, he continued. "But for that, you need to learn some techniques; first watch your balance, good balance will help you go faster, bend your knees slightly and keep your back straight. Then you have to land on the front of your feet aright? Never on your heels, it will slow you down. Keep the ball close to you. Now, show me. Dribble from here to where the second ball is."

The distance Rick indicated was a close one, but for Michonne it seemed incredibly long. She tried to remember everything Rick said, she started her task minding her balance and trying keep her back straight. It wasn't as bad as she thought, in fact it was fun. Rick stayed behind enjoying the view and shouting encouraging words.

A week ago, after they'd watched their second game together, Michonne being more entertained by it, asked to practice it with him one day. He had to make her repeat her question three times. Afterwards the surprise gave way to the joy he felt sharing a piece of himself with the woman who represented everything to him. Rick didn't waste any time finding a pair of good cleats for Michonne. He envisioned her in her soccer clothes for days, but as usual with her, the reality was better than the dream.

He didn't take her to the field he usually played at, opting instead for the privacy of his grandfather's house. The old man had built a field in his giant yard years ago. Michonne's eyes widened when she saw the pitch. Soccer definitely ran in the family's bloodline, she thought. Her head was filled with questions that she planned to ask him after they were done.

Rick was impressed she was doing a good job for a beginner, unlike Michonne who was frustrated and unhappy with the amount of times she'd lost the ball in such a short time. Her competitive side was showing, she puffed when she finally reached her end point.

"You did great, baby, really! " Rick congratulated her, high fiving her. "Can I have a smile? "

Michonne pouted her lips then curved them into a tiny smile that she tried to hide but Rick took her hands off of her face and kissed it. She was so competitive, it was cute.

"Who taught you all of that?" Michonne asked. The lovestruck couple was side by side, dribbling at a slow pace, while the sun was slowly leaving them to rest.

"My oupa did," Rick replied, before he remembered that maybe Michonne didn't know the meaning of the word. "It's mean grandpa in Afrikaans."

"You speak Afrikaans?" Michonne inquired, a shaky smile building as the surprise stinked in. "How on earth didn't Iknow this Rick! You always want to talk about me so much that we don't talk about you nearly enough."

"Because you are way more interesting than I am," he replied, trying to catch the ball. "And no I don't speak it, I just know how to say the few words my grandpa taught me."

"That isn't true," she interjected shaking her head. The way Rick loved her always warmed her heart. But she wanted to know as much about him as he knew about her. They stopped their dribbling session to rehydrate. She threw the bottle of water to him, he caught it easily, drank and tossed it back to her.

"What is his name?" Michonne questioned as she sipped the water.

"Thomas Van Graan," Rick replied with a smile, talking about his grandpa always lifted his mood.

"Van Graan? That sounds very European " Michonne remarked. Rick was delighted, always amazed at her never ending knowledge.

"He's a Dutchman," Rick explained. "But he was born and raised in South Africa like my grandma."

"Why did they come to America?"

"They always wanted to open a hotel here. My grandpa's family had hotels all over South Africa and America seemed like a good field to exploit, time proved them right."

Michonne's eyes glistened with admiration while she listened to Rick's background story. She could feel the amount of love he had for the man by the way his face transformed, suddenly overcome with lightness.

"And I guess like your mother, they fell in love with the city. He built this house with this huge field and he was always telling me stories about players who used to come play with him on it. I remember spending all my free time at his house, watching games or practicing. I spent more time with him than with my own dad."

Michonne grinned as she imagined a little Rick, his head full of curls, shooting or dribbling in his yard. Her heart ached at the bitterness of his tone when he mentioned his dad. She wasn't familiar with growing up with an absent dad, hers having always been there, in every step of her life. Advising her and scolding her when she needed it, which was rare since she was an easy child.

She followed Rick back in the field, he put himself in front of the goal, asking her to shoot while he tried to block her before it got too dark.

"Come on you can do better than that," Rick said throwing the ball towards her after she attempted a weak shoot. "Do it again but with more force."

She walked backwards to gain momentum. She took a breath in and out, ran, lifted her right leg in the air and made the shot. The ball spun and landed in Rick's hands. He caught it with such an insolence it was both a turn on and annoying. That bastard was too damn good.

"If you want a good shot you have to keep an eye on me, otherwise how are you goin' to know if there is a gap you can exploit?" He informed her. "Keep your body over the ball and your eyes on me when you strike."

Michonne tried one, two, three more times before she succeeded to strike the ball into the goal. She screamed in joy under Rick's applause. She couldn't understand how a sport so boring to watch was so much fun to play. She jumped into Rick's arms and made them both fall on the grass.

They burst into laughter. Michonne's laugh was music to his ears. The jubilant sound was one of the reasons he had a smile on his face when he woke up every morning. It made him all the more excited to go to bed every night. A comfortable silence settled between them while they were admiring the orange sky. The clouds were forming all kinds of shapes, from a dragon to a dog depending of the eyes of the one who was watching. Michonne's calming presence made Rick closed his eyes, his body quietly switching off.

"Why didn't you ever play professionally?" she asked missing Rick's baritone voice "You are so good."

"Thanks, you aren't too bad yourself, " He replied taking her hand and kissing it. "I wanted to be one. My grandpa helped me get on a team. One day I went home screaming 'mom I'm going to be a soccer player' but she laughed and brushed it off. She noticed that I was serious and I had my grandpa supporting me, so she put a stop to it. No more soccer. I was only to watch games at my grandpa's house. She told me it was a silly idea. That running after a ball and earning money doin' it wasn't healthy. I didn't want to do it for the money, But for the passion. Guess she didn't care. So I had to find a new path. When I was about 10, I saw this show with policemen helping other people and I knew I had to do that. My grandpa told me to not tell my mom because she'd find out and crush another one of my dreams. She thought all those years that I wanted to run the family business. After highschool, I had to let her know that it wasn't going to happen.

"What did she say to that?" Michonne inquired.

"She tried to brush it off again but I stood my ground against her. It was the first time in my life I'd ever done that. I had always been her sweet child, the one who did everything she asked. I became Captain of the football team even though I hated that damn sport. She told me it would help me gain friends and the community's love. It did. I dated some girl named Jessie or Jessica...whatever her name was, because my mom told me she was a good girl and it was good to be seen with her. It was. But not that time. I did what Rick wanted to do. She pretended and still pretends to support me but I know it's a way to keep me under her control, just like the house they bought me."

"Is your dad the same?"

"My dad is… well, " Rick trailed off, passing his hands in his wild sweaty curls. "He just follows along with her to have peace. He's been working non stop since he took over the hotel business after my grandpa retired and moved back to South Africa with my sick grandma."

He paused, sadness washing over him at the mention of his now deceased grandmother. Michonne caressed his cheek, Rick closed his eyes letting her touch soothe him.

He continued. "My dad is always knee deep in paperwork or on his phone. The only thing we have in common is our eyes and our love for soccer. He's closer to Cindy. Always spoiled her rotten against my mother's will. I don't want to be like my dad, spoil my kids with gifts to make them forget about my absence. Nah, that's one thing he did teach me. I could never be so absent from my children's lives. Wouldn't even want to be."

His features hardened at the thought, as if it causes him physical pain. "I'm sorry, I ruined our moment with my dysfunctional ass family," he said.

"You don't have to be sorry," She countered, shaking her head. "I want to know everything about you."

"I love you," he declared softly.

"I love you too, " she replied, her mouth curving into a coy smile. Rick covered her cushiony lips with his and she parted her mouth to give him access deepening the kiss. His hands roamed over the jersey, palming her breasts, she moaned but stopped him before they ended up naked on the field. As much as it was tempting, she didn't want grass up her butt.

"Not here," she told him, placing a peck on his swollen lips. He looked like a child who had been scolded by his mother. She giggled at the sight. "Alright, last question; is your grandpa still alive?"

"Yes, " Rick replied, resuming his position. "He's still in South Africa and I would love for you to meet him one day. After you meet my parents that is. They know about you," he added sheepishly.

Michonne's eyes went round. "You told them about us?"

"No Cindy and her damn social media sold us out," He explained. "So now they want to meet you...soon."

Michonne's smile slipped, Rick thought she didn't hear him when a pregnant silence followed his declaration. He turned his head to look at her and saw her face washed blank with nervousness, her whole body froze at the mention of a meeting with her potential future parents-in-law.

"But if you aren't ready, I will tell them to wait "

Michonne's face grew pensive, she knew she would be marrying the man beside her one day, meeting his parents was an important step in the exciting journey they were on.

"No, I'm ready, " she said a nervous giggle escaping her. "I mean, we have to do it one day huh? So let's just do it."

"You sure " He inquired, he didn't want for her to feel pressured into meeting his parents, more precisely, his mother.

"Yeaaah," she responded cheerfully.

Rick stood up, wiping the grass and dirt from his clothes. The weather was starting to cool off but Michonne didn't move, her eyes still on the jet-black sky freckled with millions of shimmering stars brightening the darkness.

"Are you coming? " He asked, his head blocking her view.

"I'm so tired! Being the next Pogba isn't easy," she responded, citing the first name that popped when she after she had researched everything she could about Manchester United that morning. "Could you carry me, please?"

Rick squatted down and lifted Michonne into his strong arms. She put her arms around his neck, she loved being carried away by him.

"Your grandpa's house is so beautiful," she said, her head laid on his shoulder. "I love it. I can feel all the memories you shared here. "

"Yeah, and one day all of it will be ours."