Tears Chapter 11
"Don't get dressed yet," Michonne said quietly, reaching out and setting her hand on Rick's leg.
"'Chonne, that's twice already this morning," Rick said. "Another round will keep me from being able to do anything today."
"You could just stay in bed all day," she suggested.
"And would you be there with me all day?"
"Of course."
"And what would we be doing if I stayed?"
"Cuddling, of course."
Rick chuckled and pulled on his boxers.
"When you say you want to cuddle, you snuggle for a few minutes," he said. "Then you get bored and stick your hand in my pants."
"That's only because you start whispering pervy things in my ear," she said. "Besides, what am I supposed to do when it's just poking me? It's not going to go away that quickly, and cuddling someone with a hard on is not relaxing."
Rick found his pants and pulled them on, struggling a bit with the belt in the dim light. He loved this banter with his partner in the morning. No matter what he had to say, she could always counter it twice as fast.
"Have I told you how much I love you today?" He asked, pulling a shirt on over his head.
"Only twice already," Michonne said.
"Really? When was that?"
"The first was when you were on top of me, and the second was when I had your dick in my mouth."
"Huh, did you ever say it back?"
"I was a little too busy both times."
He leaned down and kissed her, running his hand over her abdomen. He could feel the bump that was growing there. It seemed to get a little bigger every day.
Without breaking the kiss, he moved his hand lower, slipping a finger in between her folds. Her mouth opened in a silent gasp against his lips as he started teasing her. She was already so wet from their two rounds before.
Her hips moved against his hand, trying to get his fingers to enter her. He knew that was her favorite thing. The excitement of the first push inside nearly brought her to orgasm on the days that she was unusually sensitive. He didn't want to give that to her yet, though. He wanted her to wait.
"Fuck, Rick," she breathed, her back arching.
He circled his fingers around her opening, watching her face. Her eyes closed and she bit her bottom lip, muffling a soft moan. Her hand reached out and ran up his thigh until she was rubbing him through his jeans. He moved her hand away, then grabbed her hair at the back of her head. He pulled her head up so he could kiss her.
At the same time, he pushed two fingers inside of her, his fingers still clenched around her dreads. She moaned against his mouth as he started moving his hand. Her hips moved in time with his fingers, building a steady rhythm.
"I love you, Michonne," he said, moving to kiss and drag his teeth along her jawline.
"I love you, too."
...
Rick couldn't stop yawning as he helped Abraham and Glenn move the extra furniture out of the warehouse. Every few minutes, his eyes would close, and he would have to force himself to stay awake and alert. They still were not safe.
Abraham noticed this, and nudged Glenn with his elbow.
"Late night, Rick?" He asked with a smirk.
Rick turned, not having heard him properly.
"What was that?" He asked. Abe and Glenn chuckled.
"I asked if you'd had a late night," he said. "Or maybe an early morning?"
Rick resisted the urge to roll his eyes, opting instead to raise his eyebrows at the man, and giving him an "I'm not amused" expression.
"Ah hell, it was both," Abe continued. There was no stopping him once he caught onto something. "I mean, the sound just echoes through that warehouse. We might need to build something soundproof for you two."
"Alright, knock it off," Rick said, picking up the end of a box. "Let's just get this done."
"Why? So you can go have round eight while the rest of us are working?" Abe asked with a chuckle.
Rick just ignored him and continued with what he was doing.
It was noon by the time all the boxes had been stacked outside, so the men took a break for lunch. Rick walked inside and scanned the room, but didn't see Michonne.
Strange. Pregnant women are supposed to be hungry.
He walked upstairs and headed to their bedroom. Inside, he saw Judith in her crib, fast asleep, but his partner wasn't there either. The only other place left to check was the roof.
Michonne was up there, her dreads tied on top of her head, secured by a bandana. She was emptying out a bucket of water on one of the makeshift garden beds. Rick walked over to where she was working.
"You shouldn't be lifting things like this," he said, reaching out for the bucket. He noticed the sheen of sweat on her forehead, and the dirt all over her hands and pants. She'd been working for a while.
"It's really not that heavy," she responded, giving him a small smile as she packed the dirt around a row of little mounds. "At least not heavy enough to do any damage."
"How long have you been up here?" He asked.
"I'm not sure. Maybe two and a half hours. Not too long."
"It's noon, 'Chonne."
She finally met his gaze, knowing what he was thinking. His concern was obvious.
"Okay, maybe four hours," she said. "But I'm fine, don't worry. This is barely work."
"No, it is work," he said. "You're out here in the sun, sweating for four hours. You shouldn't even be out here in the first place. You need to take a break."
His words only sparked annoyance in her. She stood and faced him.
"Rick, I'm fine," she said. "Being pregnant isn't going to stop me from contributing. Everybody has to do their part and I am. You need to stop being so worried. I am being careful. I have done this before."
"Back then is different," Rick argued. "You had a doctor. You had enough healthy food and vitamins. And there wasn't as much stress on you. Back then was the ideal situation for a baby. Now, I'm just trying to make it somewhat adequate."
Michonne crossed her arms over her chest and let out a huff. She was so sick of this conversation already.
"If I sit around and do nothing, I will go crazy," she said.
"I'm not asking you to do nothing. There's plenty to do that's less risky."
"Oh, gardening is risky now?"
"You know what I mean."
"Fine, Rick, what would you have me do? Laundry? Cooking and cleaning and homemaking? Do you expect me to be a housewife?"
Rick didn't answer, and Michonne took that as a "yes."
"I'm lousy at all of that, and I thought you knew that. Guess you should have thought of that earlier."
"'Chonne," he started, but it was too late. She passed him and went back inside, slamming the heavy metal door behind her. He wasn't sure if he'd messed up, or if it was just her hormones making her irritable.
It was probably a combination of both.
….
Considering the fact that the place they chose to live in had so few places to hide, Michonne was extremely adept at avoiding him. Rick didn't see her for the rest of the day, and he'd looked all over. Not that he was trying to corner her into another argument or anything. No, he would let her have her space. He just wanted to see her, to make sure she was safe, and not trying to overwork herself out of spite.
When he finally found her, it was time to go to sleep, and he walked into their room to see her sitting on the edge of the bed, taking off her shoes. For a moment, he had hope that she'd gotten over their little spat earlier, but that dream was crushed by her refusal to acknowledge his presence in the room.
With a sigh, he began to undress and get ready for bed. Once he was under the covers and comfortable, he reached out and pulled her dreads out of her face.
"Do you want to talk about earlier?" He asked, deciding that he needed to fix this before they went to bed angry.
"I want you to stop treating me like I'm fragile," she said. "I know you told Eugene to serve me more food than the others. And I know why that group left without letting me know when they were leaving or where they were going. And I know why no one will let me help them with whatever they're doing. You're getting too controlling, Rick."
"I love you, Michonne, and I worry," Rick said. "If something happened to your or our baby because I let you do someth-"
"That's the thing. You don't have the right to let me do something. I choose to do it. So, if anything happens, it's my fault."
"Are you trying to make something happen?"
"God no. I don't want to take risks, but I also don't want to be micro-managed and have all these restrictions put on me. It's making me claustrophobic."
"What can I do to make this better?"
Michonne thought for a few moments about what she was going to say. She didn't want to push his patience too far, especially since he was being so understanding.
"Let me garden," she said. "Without you interfering. I promise you that I won't be lifting anything heavy or doing anything that might hurt me. But give me this one thing, and I'll be happy."
"Deal," he said, moving over and pressing a kiss against her cheek.
"Good," Michonne responded, closing her eyes and pulling his arm over her waist.
Rick seized the opportunity to cuddle. He pressed his body against hers as she faced away from him, running his hand over her belly.
His mind wandered to the new life forming just under his hand. Would it be a boy or a girl? How dark would their skin be? What would their hair look like?
As he daydreamed, Michonne shifted, trying to get comfortable. Rick felt her ass push back against him for just a moment, and his tiredness disappeared. In its place came want.
He secured his hold around her waist and pressed himself against her, hoping that she could feel his hardness. He moved his fingers to the waistband of her panties and slipped them underneath the fabric.
"What are you doing?" She asked, turning her head to look at him.
"What do you think?" He replied, moving in for a kiss. She stopped him, and swatted his hand away.
"Not tonight," she said. "I'm too tired."
Rick propped himself up on his elbow to look at her.
"Are you serious?" He said, equally amused and disappointed. "You're never too tired."
"Guess this is a new thing," Michonne said.
Rick flopped back down on the bed, looking up at the gray ceiling, trying to will his boner to go away. Next to him, he heard the soft, steady breaths begin. Great, she was already asleep.
He closed his eyes and thought about the plans to reinforce the fences around the warehouse, and other unsexy thoughts, but his erection and horniness was not subsiding. Turning his head, he watched his partner's breaths, hoping that would relax him. But his eyes began to run from her ribcage, down the dip of her waist, to the rise of her hips. This was not helping.
He turned back to look at the drab ceiling, noticing a small crack for the first time. Out of it crawled a spider.
God, he hoped that this "new thing" wasn't permanent.