A/N: And I'm back, as promised! You guys are full of surprises - I didn't expect anyone to like that last one lol. As always, I thank you so much for the feedback. If only you could see the smiles you put on my face! Anywho, here's another one!

10: cracks in the crystal ball

I love your face
You love the taste
That sugar babe, it melts away…

Rick had Michonne bent over a table, pounding into her like there was truly no tomorrow – and for all he knew, there wasn't – when suddenly, he stopped and pulled out.

She looked over her shoulder in a mixture of frustration and confusion, unsure of why he would do such a thing. "You okay back there?"

"Get on the table," he instructed in a husky whisper.

She was smiling, but still confused. "What?"

"On your hands and knees. On the table."

She wasn't sure what he was up to, but didn't question it any further. In a matter of milliseconds, she was perched on the tabletop, ass in the air. She closed her eyes and impatiently waited for his touch.

His hands roamed her backside momentarily, but they were soon replaced by his lips placing soft butterfly kisses against her skin. They trailed down the middle of her curvy frame, not even remotely shy about continuing down her ass until he reached her soaking wet center. When his tongue dipped inside her pussy, Michonne thought she was literally going to pass out.

"Holy fuck, Rick," she gasped, her breath completely caught in her throat.

His only reply was to send his tongue deeper inside her, smiling at the way her body contorted at the feeling. He explored every wall, every crevice, sucking gently at her clit, then harder, before releasing and repeating the action. She was so wet, she was practically dripping into his mouth, and he loved the taste.

Keep me coming, keep me going
Keep me humming, keep me moaning
Nonstop love until the morning
Nonstop screaming, freaking, blowing

"I... shit. Rick..." she could barely get out a sentence. The things he was doing didn't even make sense to her. Her brain was a jumbled mess all of a sudden, her body feeling like a powerless puddle under his control. "Jesus."

"He can't save you," he mumbled in amusement, still exploring with his tongue.

Her hands were gripping the edge of the table for dear life, she was panting and writhing, her hair covering the pure joy that was on her face. "Fuck yes," was the last thing she uttered before exploding into an almost violent orgasm. She wanted to hold on, but simply couldn't. He'd gone in for the kill and successfully taken her out.

Can you eat my Skittles, it's the sweetest in the middle
Pink is the flavor, solve the riddle

Not too long after that, the two of them were exhausted and entangled in one another, using a table and a couple of comforters as their bed for the evening, as they contemplated what had just happened.

"That might have been better than the first time," Michonne sighed happily once she was able to breathe again.

Rick smiled quietly to himself. He wasn't sure how to compare the two, but he certainly had no complaints about either encounter. "You think so?"

She nodded tiredly against his chest. As much as she loved their first time together, she found a divine chaos in him being the one in control. He wasn't nearly as readable as once thought. "You're good at this," she told him as she held tighter to his waist.

"Why do you sound surprised," he chuckled hoarsely.

"I don't know, I just… never imagined you… like this."

"Just because I'm crazy doesn't mean I'm asexual," he joked.

She laughed softly. "No, I'm clear on that. I think it's because you're always so serious and in no-bullshit mode."

"That is hilarious coming from you. I think you said all of four words the first month you were here."

"We have that in common," she admitted with a yawn. He was rubbing her back softly, which began to lull her to sleep.

"You know… I've never had sex with someone whose last name I didn't know," he realized with a light chuckle.

Her eyes popped open at the thought that he was going to ask her what it was. She'd left her last name in a past life, along with all the family she'd lost to the world, and did not want to delve into that on this practically perfect evening. "Please don't." The words came out of her mouth so softly, they were almost silent.

He felt her back tense, so he stopped his motions and looked down. "Hey. You okay?"

She nodded, but an obvious coldness had washed over her and she immediately sat up to retrieve her clothing. "We should probably get back to the cellblock…"

Rick knew she had secrets and demons that she carried around, just like everyone else. Hell, even before the world went to shit, people brought precarious amounts of baggage into their relationships. But he'd let her into his world, encouraged her to bond with his son, yet she continually pushed him away when it was time for the serious stuff. He wanted to push back, but for fear of making her run, he didn't say anything else. "Yeah, we probably should."

With that, they both got dressed, and he allowed her to go back to the cells first, just in case anyone was roaming the halls. He would follow a few minutes later, and tomorrow, they would probably do the same thing again.

Two weeks later, and the prison had already begun to look like a brand new place. After The Governor destroyed their gates, they knew they would have to fortify the entrance to the place, but the plan they'd come up with did that tenfold. They managed to create a blockade, made up of two large metal doors that could only be opened by someone inside, via a fairly sophisticated pulley system. And just outside the gates, Rick utilized Morgan's method of employing spikes to impale and incapacitate walkers, which eliminated a lot of the build up at the fences.

Inside the gates, the plans for the new eating area in the courtyard were well underway. They had finally collected enough wood to build a new gazebo and then some; it was now just a matter of pulling the design together. Rick was so proud of how everyone was working to get these projects done. He had a good group on his hands, and he knew it.

Meanwhile, his sexual escapades with Michonne showed no signs of slowing down, which put him in better moods than anyone had ever seen him in. A small part of him wished they could be more out in the open, like Glenn and Maggie, but he knew she wasn't ready to be that exposed. He wasn't sure if he was either, to be quite honest. Besides, sneaking around made it that much more exciting sometimes. The stolen glances, the hidden meanings when they spoke to one another amongst others, the fact that several of the others suspected things but didn't really know... it was fun. And he hadn't had fun in so long, he was happy to ride it out, for the time being.

He was standing next to the cell door, inhaling a bottle of water when he saw his son approach. "Hey, Dad," Carl greeted his father as he returned from his shift in the watchtower.

"Hey," Rick greeted him happily, taking a glance at his watch. It was later than he thought, almost time for Judith to eat again, so he pulled off his gloves and began to escort Carl inside. "All clear out there?"

"All clear. I thought I saw a lady walking through the woods, but I'm pretty sure it was just a walker."

Rick nodded absently, halfway wondering where Michonne was. He hadn't seen her all morning. "You goin' to get some lunch?" he asked.

"I'm not that hungry. I was gonna put my stuff down and see if Zack and Daryl needed any help with the gazebo." Carl glanced up at his dad for approval, but noticed a fairly large red spot adorning his neck, along with a few scratches. "Dad, did you get scratched!"

Rick frowned at the kid, unsure of why he was so alarmed. "What? No."

"You have…" Carl pointed to the spot on his neck that corresponded to where his dad was seemingly injured. "What is that?"

Rick touched the spot, knowing he hadn't been attacked by a walker. Michonne, on the other hand, was a different story. He was certain her nails had dug into his skin at that spot, along with a few other places, and he wouldn't have been surprised if she'd sucked his neck red, too. "It's nothin'," he promised his boy.

Carl still looked worried. "Are you sure? It looks like a scratch."

"I haven't had any close calls with any walkers, Carl. I probably just did it in my sleep." He winced, realizing he'd just stolen that excuse from Shane. "Or maybe a stray piece of wood," he appended.

"Fine. But I'm gonna check you for a fever for the next few days."

Rick smiled as they entered their cellblock, not expecting anything less of his kid. He was so proud of him sometimes. "I'm gonna go get your sister. If Daryl doesn't need you, you come back in and help Hershel with the rations." There had just been a recent run, and Carol and Hershel were left with the task of sorting the newest supplies. It was not an easy job, and they could use the extra hands.

"But he's got Carol. And Beth can do that if you've got Judith; they don't need me."

"I'm offering you a deal here, you can either take it, or you can go help them now."

"Fine," Carl sighed, glancing up just in time to see Michonne passing by them. "Hey Michonne!"

She was just looking for Rick and was glad to have found him, but focused her attention on Carl. "What's up, Grimes."

"They're finally getting started on the pit outside. You helpin'?"

"Oh, but of course," she grinned, refocusing on the older Grimes. "Where are you headed?"

"To get Judith. Time for her to eat," Rick nodded.

"Michonne, check it out," Carl interrupted with an odd enthusiasm in his voice. "My dad has scratches on his neck; don't they look like walker scratches?"

"Why do you sound excited about that," she frowned lightheartedly, taking a look at Rick's neck. She knew good and well she'd caused the damage, and made a mental note to apologize later. But for Carl, she would put on a show. "That doesn't look too good. Has Hershel seen this?"

"I'm pretty sure I just scratched myself in my sleep," he replied with narrowed blue eyes. "I haven't been close to any walkers lately."

She nodded and eyed him playfully, hoping Carl didn't notice the vibe between them. "Can I talk to you after you're done with Judith?"

"You can talk to me now," he offered softly.

Carl was now glancing back and forth between the two of them. He felt something odd in the air, but he wasn't sure what, so he decided to go. "I'm gonna head out."

The two of them watched Carl vanish into his duties and she considered Rick's offer. "It can wait 'til you're done."

It hadn't escaped Rick that Michonne didn't like to be around Judith. Whenever he had her, she would find a reason to make an exit, or offer to wait until he was done with her. Some part of him wondered if she'd lost a child somewhere along the way, but he pushed those thoughts aside, hoping that by now, after all they'd shared, she would have told him such a thing. Maybe she just doesn't like babies, he figured.

"Gimme half an hour?"

"Half an hour," she nodded, and continued outside to see what progress had been made.

It was closer to an hour before Rick was done with his daughter, though Michonne didn't mind waiting. But she found herself feeling a bit self-conscious when he came outside specifically to find her – everybody's eyes landed on the two of them as they made their way back in.

"Have they always been that nosy?" she commented half-jokingly once they were safe inside the cellblock.

Rick hadn't noticed, and wasn't sure what she was referring to. "Who?"

"Nothin'," she chuckled lightly. "It's looking good out there."

"We should be done by mid-March," he nodded, staring at her intently. "Hershel wants to start prepping the field for seeds soon…"

She couldn't help but admire everything he was doing to make the prison a real home. As with everything else, he refused to half-ass this project, and it was going to be a truly wonderful thing for their group. He was such a good man. Too good for this world, she knew. It took all of her strength to keep these thoughts to herself and tell him what she needed to say.

"I'm going back out tomorrow," she finally announced, with all the confidence she could muster.

Rick let out a big sigh, knowing that this day was inevitable. Admittedly, there was some part of him that hoped the sex would keep her there, but in the back of his mind, he knew that she would leave again. And how he responded would likely be a big factor in whatever future they had.

"Okay…" was all that came out of his mouth.

"Okay?"

"I don't like it. You know that," he supplied, never letting his eyes off hers. "But I can't stop you. And I know that."

"So you're not even gonna try."

"Is that what you want?"

"No, of course not. I want you to trust me, that I know what I'm doing."

"I trust you," he promised quietly. "I'm gonna miss you. But… we all got jobs to do, as Hershel says, and this is yours."

This had been much easier than she anticipated. She wasn't sure what to say. Making sure that no one was approaching, she took his hand into hers and squeezed. "Thank you. For making this easy."

He wished he felt as at ease as he seemed. Truthfully, he hated this. A lot. But this was her mission, and he had no right to try and stop her. She'd stayed much longer than he ever thought she would, and he was thankful for that at least. "Just hurry back to me."

She smiled at the fact that he didn't even try to shroud himself in the cover of the group. He wanted her back for him. "To you, huh?"

"To me," he repeated with emphasis. He wanted to cover her mouth in kisses, but instead, he pulled their entangled hands to his lips and left a light peck on each of her fingers.

The gesture was so small, so sweet, it felt downright romantic. Their relationship had been so physical to that point, she almost didn't know what to do with that moment of pure affection. She was taken aback and instinctively dropped his hand altogether.

He scoffed in disbelief, clearly disappointed by her action. From the beginning, he knew he was involving himself with a closed book, but he had to believe at some point he would be able to pry her open. That didn't seem to be happening, though, and it killed him a little more each time she shut him out.

She knew she'd hurt him and it was the last thing she meant to do. Her reaction was intrinsic. She had worked so hard to close herself off to love, and anything resembling it, she didn't know what to do when it threatened to invade her space. "I'm so sorry," she whispered quickly. "It's not you, Rick, I swear."

He nodded, knowing that to be true. He might have been crazy, but she was crazy and even a little damaged. He just hoped not irreparably.

"I'll see you tonight?" she asked hopefully, needing confirmation that she hadn't just ruined everything.

His eyes softened at her request, knowing that she had to have been genuinely sorry. And there was no way he'd let her leave for another two weeks without a proper goodbye. "Of course."

Lyrics: "Blow" – Beyoncé (BEYONCÉ)