A/N: Sorry for the slight delay. I had a babysitting-weekend with my two lovely nieces and I came back very sick. Courtesy of the little demons. Funny thing is, my brother was worried that I might pass my hypothetical foreign germs to his Girls (you know, cause College-Kids and their unhealthy world XD), and it ended up being the other way around. Ah, the irony.

Five days is not such a long time, but I still regret it. I haven't had time to write or edit and I need to finish this Story before I start my semester, so it kinda stressed me out.

The usual: WD don' belong to me. These next couple chapters are not so action packed and more slow, so they might lose a little of that dark, gritty athmosphere. Hope it's not TOO much.

X. Catnip for Women Like Me

Milton was the name of her deceased informant. He was a loan shark most likely forced into this business due to his debts.

"The police found him last night. Seems to have been a suicide, but someone raided his house after he was dead; Made a mess of the place."

"Is that right?"

"Apparently he knew they were coming for him. Most likely they were looking for this." Maggie waves the documents in the air.

"Most likely." Michonne responds absentmindedly, analysing each document and handing them to Maggie as she goes. The brunette is eyeing her doubtfully.

"You say you met him while he was still alive."

"I did."

"You don't seem at all affected by his dead."

"Like you say, he knew they were coming for him."

"Michonne."

"Hmm?"

"Michonne." The woman sighs and meets Maggie's stare. "He wasn't alive when you met him. Was he?" Was her lie so bad even Maggie saw through it? She knows she's had little to no time to plan it properly as she drove to work this morning, but damn… "Before you think you're losing practice on your stupid game of lies, no. It is a perfectly good alibi and I'm sure the jury will believe it. But I know you and how reckless you are and if you are putting yourself in danger because of this stupid case…"

"It is not just a stupid case, Maggie. Andrea's life depends on it."

"Look, I don't wanna discourage you, but how do you know that this… Milton… whoever he was… was telling the truth?"

"You want me to guess in such a situation?" Maggie rolls her eyes at her. "Maggie."

"I just worry about you…"

"Maggie." This time it is the brunette the one who sighs. "You know me."

"Yes, I do." There are few women in this world who can handle dangerous situations like Michonne. She's not carefree, she knows what she's doing. People like Maggie should keep that in mind before scolding her like a little child.

"Stop worrying and just show those documents to the court. You have enough evidence now to push the case forward. We'll win."

"You can count on it, stubborn cow." Maggie retorts with a tiny smile.

"You're about to laugh."

"Yeah. I only know one person who rivals your stubbornness and it is my sister. You remind me an awful lot of her. Next I know you'll be running off with some redneck and I'll never see you again."

Michonne guffaws at that and the Greene girl keeps eyeing the documents with a smile that hides deep sadness. Recalling her past and family is just as hard for her as it is for Michonne.

"You still talk to her?" She asks for the sake of it and sees the sad smile turn into a scowl.

"Last time I did we got into a fight, as usual." Michonne leaves it there.

Maggie doesn't talk that much about her family either. All she knows about her is that the Greenes used to own a farm they lost mysteriously after the father's death. Maggie, a very smart woman with a good education, decided to move to the North and pursue a carrier that could support her and her younger sister who had just graduated school.

But the little blonde fell in love with a man Maggie didn't like at all. And things between both sisters after that got so bad they both went their separate ways without even acknowledging each other.

Maggie never mentions the name of her sister's husband. And she rarely talks about Beth herself unless she's already into a few drinks. Michonne, however, gets and respects her. There is a gentle understanding between both women that has made them close friends. Just like there was between her and Andrea…

Why do I always get so friendly with women with "little sister"-issues?

Maggie recomposes herself, giving her a practical wink to change the subject.

"In any case… wanna go out tonight? Celebrate your reckless accomplishment with a couple martinis?" Martinis and a good swing. Sounds like a nice plan. "I just fetched my turquoise coctail dress from the french dry cleaner yersterday. And the coral lipstick...?" Michonne shakes her head at that, a smile playing in her lips.

"Plan on using your feminine charms on another poor soul?" Maggie shruggs, kittenish.

"It is not my fault if men naturally fall to my feet. Is it?"

"Uh-huh."

"Besides, every time I go out with you, half of them fly right past me towards you." That's half true and half a lie. Michonne's hard eyes tend to frighten men away more than Maggie's open and soft features. Besides there is no denying a white woman usually gets more attentions than a black one, even in the North. Still, there's always the average number of men who fancy themselves enough of a Casanova to go for the hardest price. Thus, nights out with Maggie always end up with the girl's admirers swarming around her like moths to a flame, while Michonne tries to swat off the poor devil-may-cares who dare approach her.

"Don't worry. I'll send them flying back in your direction."

"Like always. Thanks a lot." Maggie retorts with sarcasm and the other woman laughs.

Maggie enjoys the game; Michonne not so much. Most men are quite unimpressive and the ones who have managed to get her have had to suffer rough times.

Be it as it may, the notion of going out and dancing to jazz music sounds tempting, but after the second time she's almost been killed in a few weeks she doesn't really want to leave her house. Not that she would let Maggie know that, it would only make her worry a lot more. So she thinks of the first lie that comes to her head.

"Already got plans for tonight."

"Oh, a date?" the brunette inquires with a cheeky smile. "What's his name?"

Chocolate Ice Cream.

"Why you care?"

"Curious, that's all. Tell me." Michonne bites her lip and blurts the first name that comes to her head at that moment.

"Daryl." Maggie narrows her eyes, her smile disappearing from her lips.

"Daryl?" Michonne nods as naturally as possible, fighting the urge to burst in laughter. Daryl? really? "Last name?"

"Nuh-uh."

"Oh, come, don't leave me in the darkness!"

"See you later, Maggie." The woman gets up and gives her friend a hand-shake before walking towards the door.

"I'll find out one way or another, Johnson!"

As Michonne walks down the hallway towards the elevator, she takes a moment to reflect on why Daryl's name popped so quickly inside her head when Maggie asked her about her fictional date; maybe because she hasn't been able to stop thinking about him since last night.

Since her small lapse of recklessness.

Well, granted, she's a reckless woman, but when it comes to men she's more guarded than most. She's not a flirt like Andrea, nor a man-eater like Maggie. So she doesn't quite understand her impulse to kiss him.

Maybe it was the whisky or Rick's memory; or maybe the fact that the man had just saved her life. Maybe the way in which he managed to seize her up, or his charming disposition.

He's an unusual breed of gentleman. Messy and yet polite; sometimes cocky and sometimes incredibly timid. And very good-looking. She never took the time to properly take on his features until last night.

He's got a pair of very pretty baby blues. And a sweet smile...

Anyhow, he clearly rejected her, which baffles her even more, given the way he looked at her the whole time, desire spilling from his eyes.

Yeah, he's not subtle at all. She can tell from a mile away he's constantly undressing her in his imagination. Something she's accidentally made easier for him.

So, why would a man who clearly eyes her with so much desire have wasted a chance like the one she so carelessly gave him last night?

Maybe my hypocrisy turned him off. She mocks to herself. Or maybe he really views me as a hoe and thinks I'm not worth his time.

That one hurts.

Michonne sighs at the direction her thoughts are taking.

She's not really interested in this guy, is she?

She shouldn't be. She knows jack shit about him and he's been stalking her without her even wanting him to.

Plus, this really isn't the time for her to get into this kind of sentimental messes. She's got too much on her mind, a fucked up past and she's just gotten out of a turbulent relationship with a man who clearly wanted more than she could give him.

It would be quite stupid to start a new mess with this other guy, who, by the way, happens to be Rick's best friend.

As she gets out of the building and walks towards her Cadillac she spots his small ford and smiles when she sees him peak through the window.

Speak of the devil.

She nods in his direction and he throws her that coy smile of his.

Fuck

Her heart skips a beat at the sight of it. It is the most charming thing she's seen the whole week. Her feet instinctively change direction, leading her towards his car. He seems surprised, but rolls down the window anyways.

"Hey."

"Hello." She gives him a wide smile and he takes a deep breath, looking around.

"Is there a problem?"

"No. I just wanted to greet you."

"Oh…"

"Yeah. I know you already, so I figured…"

"Right." There's an awkward silence between them. She can tell he's nervous. He wasn't expecting she would approach him. Neither was she, to be honest. "How are those ribs?"

He seems confused for a moment, but then understands.

"They're fine."

"Nothing broken?" He shakes his head. "You go to a doctor?"

"I don' need one, I know how the pain of broken ribs feel like." His eyes shoot down as soon as the words leave his mouth, almost as if he was ashamed of having said it.

"You should go anyways." He looks back at her, his expression unreadable.

"How 'bout ya? That cut in yer hand healing once an' fer all?" She touches it slightly at the mention of it. It is taking a while, as she constantly opens and closes her fingers while she's working. But it will heal eventually.

"I still have your handkerchief." She realizes.

"Ya can keep it." Another long silence.

Why would I want your handkerchief?

"I was wondering if maybe you would like to come for dinner tonight?" she blurts out.

He looks at her like a deer in headlights and she curses inwardly again. Is there a way this man's awkwardness can stop being so attractive?

Why is it attractive at all?

Must be the unusual vibe he carries around with him: That solemn, shy, yet magnetic attractiveness, so unusual in men; those kinds of men are catnip for women like her.

"I, uh…" He's gonna run for the hills, she thinks. "Yeah. Why not?"

She's quite surprised by his answer. He seems conflicted by it too, but shows no signs of wanting to back down.

"It's only a friendly gesture. A 'thank you' for what you've done for me."

"Alright."

"Ten o'clock?"

"I'll be there."

"See you soon then." She smiles at him and takes off immediately.

Guess the 'excuse' she gave to Maggie isn't an excuse anymore. What the hell is she getting herself into?

Does she care?

She really doesn't. She's not afraid or nervous or wondering if this is the right thing to do.

Something about Daryl gives her the assurance that nothing will go wrong.

She remembers last night and their conversation. He's an intelligent man. One who doesn't think too high of himself.

And he has those blue eyes. Sad and stormy like the sea.

Men like him are hard to resist once you get to know them.

Catnip for women like me. She thinks sourly.

Shape of a Heart - Ane Brun

On with the romance.

You know the funny thing? I always thought these would be the easiest chapters to write because they are the ones I've been planning and writting from the beginning. But ironically enough, I find I have more difficulty drafting this romance than I have drafting the plot. Action scenes, no problem... character development and suspense, no problem. But throw me a romance scene and I suddenly don't know where I'm standing.

So, technically, I'm like Daryl Dixon: Not afraid of anything... except romance and chupacabras XD.