A/N: To the people who said Rick was sprung. Sprung was the working title for this fic for the longest before I felt it didn't fit the tone of Michonne's pov and changed it! And the first chapter was titled Fuck Rick Grimes until right before I uploaded it.

Trinilynn, your biology lesson comment cracked me up. Smut's more fun when you know what you're reading, lol!

Thank you for re-reading Verbal Communications, Theycanstillgrow!

Thank you so, so much for reading this story everyone! Whether you left a review or not! I appreciate it all. We've reached the final chapter, but as I previously said, there will be a (short) companion fic, so stay tuned for that! I'm thinking of posting it all at once rather than weekly updates. Let me know which you prefer!

I Miss You

Michonne was lying on her side, eyes closed, fantasizing about Rick, when she felt movement near her cell.

She stopped smiling and opened her eyes. She raised her head and listened.

"Michonne, are you awake?"

Her smile returned. "Rick?" she asked quietly.

"Yeah."

"Come inside," she beckoned as she swung her legs around to sit. Despite the new influx of people in the prison, she didn't share her cell, so there was no one in the bed above hers. Rick had never asked her to share her space with someone else.

He walked in, all lean and attractive. Those pajama pants were doing his hips all types of favors again.

"Sit," she said. She noted that he carried his gun, and she wondered if his intention was the same as what she'd been fantasizing about.

"You can't sleep?" he asked quietly as he lowered himself next to her.

"No," she answered smiling. "But not because of why I couldn't sleep a couple of months ago. I keep thinking about yesterday."

He smiled. "Me too. You wanna talk?"

"You mean...about what we are, that kind of thing?" she asked as her stomach clenched nervously.

"No, I mean talk like we usually do. Do you wanna talk about what we are?" he asked, frowning.

"We're friends. Right?" she asked, hoping he'd say yes, because she did not want to do the whole what are we? thing.

"Yeah," he answered. "And that's good. Right?"

"Right," she said with a nod.

"Trusting each other to be honest?"

She smiled as she recalled what she'd said to him yesterday morning. "Yes. Let's go. Wait," she said, sitting back down. "Uh...we're friends...who...have sex. Right?"

"Right," he said, nodding.

"Good, let's go. The bathroom."

She grabbed her katana, and they walked out, him in front. They briefly stopped by the table in front of the cells that held flashlights for people to use if they needed to use the restroom at night, and Rick grabbed a flashlight.

He turned it on after they left the block of cells, and he led her to the bathroom.

She took the flashlight from him when they entered. She leaned her katana against the wall between the sinks while he deposited his gun on the sink to their right.

She looked at herself in the mirror. Curious about how she looked after she'd had sex with Rick, she'd done it yesterday evening, but she did it again now, shining the flashlight on herself at an angle.

"I wish we'd had a mirror earlier," she revealed. "Just so I could see."

"We have one now," he said as he rested his hands on her waist and started to kiss her bare left shoulder.

She looked at them as he did. She looked at herself. She looked...she looked good. She looked present. Her almond-shaped eyes were soft, yet focused. Her cheeks puffed out next to her wide nose, because she was smiling. Her skin radiated. She ran her fingers through the length of her hydrated locks and watched them swing back into place.

She didn't look like someone who'd walked through several nightmares. That wasn't the first thing she saw when she looked at herself anymore. Between the prison, Carl, and Rick, loss wasn't the totality of her existence anymore.

"I want you to keep working on the garden," she said as she set the flashlight on the sink.

"I will," he promised as his lips traced a line from her shoulders to her neck.

She cocked her head to give him room and closed her eyes to enjoy how he was making her feel. She removed his hands from her waist and brought them up to her braless breasts. He kneaded them, and she caressed his hands, hands that had to be quick on the trigger and powerful on the knife to keep him alive.

He kissed his way up to her ear and gently played with it. She slipped one of his hands down her shorts and passed her underwear. He closed his powerful hand over her pussy, and she sighed. She was going to explicitly tell him that she liked it when he did that so he'd never stop.

Her ear was one of her erogenous zones, so she was getting wetter as he played with it in addition to running his fingers over her slit.

When she couldn't take the attention on her ear anymore, she removed his hand from her sex and turned around to kiss him.

It was like drinking a cold glass of water after exerting herself. She thought it was incredible, because it had only been a couple of hours since she'd last kissed him. She didn't know how she was going to make it when she left in two days. She was going to scour Georgia for The Governor for three weeks.

There would be no Rick, no Rick's kisses, no Rick's hands, and no Rick's dick. And unfortunately, they didn't have the luxury of spending the next two days doing nothing but fucking.

Rick brought his hands down her underwear to palm her ass.

"You are an amazing kisser," she murmured when they took a break.

"So are you," he replied before capturing her mouth again.

"I have a condom," he said when they separated once more.

"Good," she said. She pushed his hips back and dropped to her knees on the cement floor, tugging down his pants and underwear as she went. She held his dick by the base and took him in her mouth, her other hand on his pelvis.

He gasped in response, which pleased her immensely. She was leaving in two days and would be gone for three weeks. She wanted to be able to taste him when she closed her eyes on the road.

He widened his stance and held her bobbing head with his hands and just like that her mouth started to sweat.

He sighed from the depths of his chest as she worked to make him rock hard, and it had a debilitating effect on her pussy, making it starve for him.

She lost herself in blowing him. She was enamored with the taste and feel. So she was a little confused when he called her name and slid his steel dick out of her mouth.

"You don't get to settle your debt yet," he drawled as he rubbed the tip of his dick against her lips.

"Keep doing that, and you won't have a choice," she breathed before she captured it with her lips and suctioned, rubbing her tongue against it as she did.

He was merciful for a couple of seconds, but when she started to take more of him into her mouth, he groaned and pulled it out.

"I thought we got to decide when we wanted to settle," she almost whined. She ran her lips and tongue down the side of his dick, from the tip to where his hand held the base, suctioning as she went. Tellingly, he removed his hand for a second so that she could get all the way to the base.

"We do," he said heavily. "But I wanna be inside you. Now," he said as he moved his dick away from her mouth.

She wasn't going to argue with him putting his dick in her pussy.

"The condom's in the right pocket. My right."

She fished it out. He offered her his hands, and she took them, and he helped her up from the floor.

"When I do settle my debt, you will never want to get in my way again," she promised saucily.

"I can't wait," he said, grinning.

He was too attractive for his own good. She shook her head, and then she tore the package open. She put the condom on him, and he raised her chin to give her a chaste kiss.

She faced the mirror and pushed her shorts and underwear down. She lowered down to her forearms on the sink, pushing her ass out. He sucked in a breath through his teeth, and she grinned as she watched him in the mirror. He held her waist with one hand, and she readied herself.

He slowly eased in, and her eyes fluttered closed as her pussy stretched to accommodate him.

She involuntarily clamped down on him before he made it all the way in, still unused to having someone inside of her after all of this time, and he hissed.

She tried to relax, but her brain stuck on him hissing. It turned her on, and her brain told her pussy to hold on to him.

"Pull back a little and go in again," she breathed.

He pulled out, and her vagina inhaled, expanding, and he pushed in, faster than he'd been doing before, filling her with one long stroke.

"Oh, yes," she moaned loudly as she opened her eyes in surprise. "Oh, wow."

She looked at him in the mirror, and he raised his eyes to see her face as he began to methodically pump in and out of her. Her eyes threatened to flutter close again from the sensational feeling of his long, full strokes. She smiled as she watched him, and he grinned, seeing her pleasure all over her face and in her struggle to keep her eyes open.

"Gimme the light," he instructed.

She reached for the flashlight and handed it to him. She watched him shine it directly where they joined. The hand on her ass squeezed, and she knew that he liked what he saw.

"You're so wet," he said.

"I know."

"Oh, God."

"You like it?"

"Yeah."

He pulled the ass cheek that he held from the other and shined the light directly on her other opening. He moaned and licked his lips.

"Rick, all you're doing is making me more wet."

"And?" he asked, smirking as he handed her the flashlight.

She took it from him and replaced it on the sink. "Fuck me," she ordered.

"With pleasure."

And what pleasure it was. He increased his pace little by little until his crotch was slapping hers. Their breaths grew more and more shallow, more and more labored. They became gluttonous in their enjoyment of each other. Their eyes were closed, each focused on what they were getting and taking from each other.

"Aah!" she wailed, loud and drawn out as she rose to a higher state of decadence, the one where nothing mattered except how close she was.

"You need to…"

He finished with a rough, throaty moan.

"I'm close," she told him desperately.

She opened her eyes and saw that his mouth was stuck open. He couldn't even finish telling her to be quiet. His shoulders were raised, and he was hunched over as he fucked her. He was close, too.

She looked at her own face just as he began to all out blitz her pussy. She held her breath to keep from reacting loudly. His powerful pumping forced her to release it, and it trembled out of her in a rush. Her forehead was creased, her mouth was open, too. Her face was tense with anticipation.

"Oh shit!," she whispered fiercely. She came, her eyes snapping shut as she was swept away. "Aah!"

He covered her mouth with his hand, and the change in angle as he leaned over her, never stopping his thrusts, made him come, and he leaned down completely, covering her body with his as he released, grunting into her shoulder, hips never stopping.

The surprise of his hand firmly over her mouth as well as the heat of his chest against her back intensified her orgasm. Her knees buckled, and she undulated her hips against his crotch uncontrollably, messing up his rhythm, as she moaned into his hand.

"You trying to get us caught?" he asked after they'd come down from their high. He lifted off of her back. He had already pulled out. "We don't live with heavy sleepers here. Not even Carl anymore."

"I'm not trying to get us caught," she said as she straightened. "I just figure you'll handle it if it happens. It's a compliment," she said, turning to look at him over her shoulder.

"Yeah," he said.

They cleaned up and fixed themselves, and then he led her to the hallway, where they sat on the floor. She was glad that he wanted to spend more time together.

Unlike the first time they sat in the hallway, they were leaning into each other, one of her arms wrapped around his.

"It's been a long time since I felt like that," she shared. "I haven't felt in a long time. My body's...I don't know. It's like there's been a separation between my mind and my body. It's like I've just existed. I've just been drifting. I'm connecting again. Settling into my body again."

"I like it when you get loud," he said. "Just so we're clear. I was only teasin'. I didn't-"

"Oh no, I didn't think you disliked it. Please. Why would you?"

He chuckled, and she took the opportunity to caress his cheek with her index finger.

"I'm happy you kissed me," he confessed. "I wouldn't have had the guts. Not right now. Eventually. But that may have been a long time. I'm not in the place to make a move like that, you know?"

"Yeah," she answered. "The extrovert in me peeked out, I guess."

"I'm glad it did," he said, and he kissed her.

When they broke apart, eyes heavy with desire, he said, "Maybe it wouldn't have been a long time," and she laughed.

"I've thought about you," he admitted.

The reveal made her preen internally. "Good. I've tried not to think about you. Because of everything you're going through and all. It felt inappropriate."

"I like inappropriate," he said.

She smiled and kissed him. She laid her head down on his shoulder and closed her eyes, content to be in his presence in a new way. She felt even more content when he leaned his head against hers.

They stayed like that for a couple of blissful minutes, and then he raised his head and asked, "Can you tell me about your family? Did your mom belong to a society that required the right pedigree?"

"Nah. But I do know about my roots like you do. I'm Geechee." She raised her head and asked, "You heard of us?"

"Yeah," he said with interest. "The descendants of the slaves from the Sea Islands. You're an Islander?"

"I am," she confirmed, nodding. "My parents were born on Sapelo Island. Ever been?"

"No, I've only been to Saint Simons," he answered. "Fishing, kayaking, jet skiing."

"Of course," she teased, remembering his love of the outdoors.

She wished she could take him to Sapelo Island, but she didn't say so out loud. Instead, she said, "The island represented a thorn in my side before the change happened. "I was in a...I don't know...a battle, a disagreement, with two of my cousins about the land our family owned. A developer approached us about buying it. I wanted to consider. They did not."

"Why? I mean why did you wanna sell?" he asked, putting some distance between them to look at her, although not enough to disturb her hugging his bicep.

"It's not like Hershel owning his land, Rick," she said with a small smile. "Yeah, we've owned ours for generations, and I mean generations. I could visit the gravesite of my great, great, great, forever great grandfather who bought the land. He bought the land and later decided to let his sister in on it, because there was power in numbers.

Anyways, it's not the same, because the island was being gentrified. Hell, it was gentrified. My thought process was: what is the best way to make sure the family gets the most out of it? Preservation is nice, but there's a reason why preservation sites either rely on donors or the government.

My cousins didn't want to give it up, and their side of the family backed them, and I wanted to figure out something that would make us wealthy, and my family backed me up. My parents were in total agreement. There just wasn't enough of us, Geechee land owners, to put up a fight for a couple of years and not end up with nothing at the end of it all. I didn't just want a couple of millions like the other families who'd sold. I wanted something that would keep giving, and, yeah, I did want to preserve it! What?" she asked, when he raised his eyebrows, smiling.

"You're getting a little loud," he said, exaggerating the low volume of his voice. "Is that a thing with you?"

She rolled her eyes at him. "I started having a flashback, there, but you get the gist of how those phone calls would go. Oh, it was a gorgeous, gorgeous island, Rick. I spent most of my summers there as a child. I learned how to swim in the ocean."

"Really?"

"Yeah," she answered, smiling. "My mom hated it, but my dad insisted. She watched over us like a hawk during the lessons."

"Is that why you like going to the ocean when you need some perspective?"

"Probably," she said, considering the connection for the first time. "I've never linked the two things."

"But you hate sand," he deadpanned.

"Yes. Funny enough, I didn't when I was younger. I didn't care."

"You just wanted to get dirty."

"Basically," she confirmed. "When I got older, starting with college, I'd spend at least two weeks on the island during the summer. Beautiful place. I hope any and all walkers managed to walk into the ocean and drown. It'll probably be more beautiful now that there's no one to mess with it," she said wistfully.

"I wish I could've seen it. So what was your plan for selling?" he asked.

"I couldn't settle on any one plan, not even with my parents' help. I didn't want to just sell; I wanted a share of whatever company was buying it or whatever they planned on building there. I wanted a controlling interest. I offered to buy my cousins out of their share of the land, and they-went-off. You're only thinking about yourself; you just want money for your son; you don't even live on the island. They didn't live on the island either! They lived in Florida!" she whispered intensely to keep from raising her voice.

He nodded, pursing his lips. She shook her head and sighed. "Adelae and Chalise. I hope they're okay. We were good, all three of us. We met up every summer on the island growing up. When the land issue popped up, it became a sore spot. Adelae was married with two kids. She was the worst person to play tennis with. So competitive. Chalise gave in to the travel bug whenever she could. Anywhere there was water, a beach, she wanted to go. She loved snorkeling. And she loved her cruises. I really hope they're okay."

"They may be," he said soothingly. "We don't know. And that might be the best thing."

"I hope so," she said. But she couldn't imagine that they were okay. Any time she thought about her family: her cousins, her little cousins, her parents, her grandmother, she only saw them in the past, when everything was normal.

"Our family tradition was to deed the land to the next generation on their thirtieth birthday," she said. "That meant that we had to immediately draft a will and name the previous generation as beneficiaries in case something happened to us."

"That's a nice tradition," he responded.

"It was," she agreed.

They fell into a comfortable silence, and she laid her head on his shoulder again.

"Today was a good day," she said quietly. "Haven't had many of those. They're few and far between."

"It was really good," he said as he played with her fingers. "I just want you to know...I was thinking about it earlier: when you're out there, I want you to know that I miss you."

She lifted her head and looked at him, surprised.

"I miss you," he repeated as he looked into her eyes. "And so does Carl. It's different when you're not here. I want you to be careful. Do what you need to do, but be careful, because I want you to come back."

Her eyes filled with unshed tears, and her nose and ears tickled. She was speechless. She didn't know how to tell him what those words meant to her. She didn't know how to tell him what he meant to her. Hell, she barely understood what he meant to her. She just knew that he was important. And that still puzzled her. And he made her feel important. She didn't know how that could be when he was going through his own trials, but she decided that that was part of what made him so special.

"Should I have kept that to myself?" he teased.

"You better not have," she said, her voice strained with emotion. Her lips started to tremble, and she stayed them with her fingers. "Thank you. I can't even tell you what that means to me."

"I have a pretty good idea," he said.

"I get so excited to see you both," she revealed, her voice stronger. "The closer I get to the prison, when I know whoever's in the guard tower can probably see me, when I'm five minutes away, when I'm two minutes away, I get so excited. And I am careful. And I'll be extra careful now. I have to come back. Maggie and Hershel may know their way around soil and all that, but I've got my own special gardening skills."

"Yes, you do," he agreed.

She grinned. "Who else is gonna bring those skills and help you?"

"I don't know, and I don't care, but I do know those skills are required when creating a vegetable garden. And I mean required."

"So I can't leave you hangin'."

"No, you can't," he said, leaning closer to her.

She pulled him in and surrendered to his skillful lips. A delicious shiver traveled over her body. She wanted his hands on her skin again. She wanted him all over her, his heated body pressed against hers.

"I should've brought both condoms," he murmured when they separated. "I don't know what I was thinking."

"One day you're gonna have to tell me how you do that," she said, as he seemed to read her mind again. "But for now," she said as she caressed his stubble, "Just kiss me."

He did. He kissed her generously and thoroughly, and her whole being sang.

The End