Several days passed where Andrea only managed to catch fleeting glimpses of Rick. He made himself increasingly scarce, volunteering for endless shifts in the tower, isolating himself from the group. She wasn't sure what had prompted his need for solitude, but the constant scowl on Lori's face told her that something had happened between husband and wife. Andrea's first instinct had been that Rick had told his wife about his affair, but when no confrontation with Lori was forthcoming, she had to assume it was another matter entirely that had put the couple at odds with each other. During her afternoons on the raft with Carl, Andrea couldn't resist asking the boy questions about what was going on with his parents, disguising her queries as casual conversation, but he seemed just as clueless on the matter as she was.

Some days into his constant vigil, Rick finally gave up his nightly post in the tower to T-Dog, exhaustion finally taking precedent over his desire to be alone. Andrea, in turn, had relieved T-Dog, and it was very late into the night when Hershel came to relieve her.

So it was that Andrea found herself trudging towards the rectory at three o'clock in the morning, her steps accompanied by the singing of crickets and the occasional high-pitched squeak of a passing bat. When she rounded the back corner of the rectory, a black silhouetted shape laying on the hood of the hearse caught her eye. She knew it was Rick, and the rational part of her brain told her that it would be best if she just ignored him and went to bed. Her feelings for the man quickly overrode her rationality, however, and she sighed before changing her course to move in his direction.

His eyes opened at the sound of her approach.

"Hi," she said, crawling onto the hood and sliding down next to him.

"Hi." His hand immediately sought out hers and he linked their fingers together. She didn't resist.

"You gonna tell me what's going on?"

He took a deep, frustrated breath. "Just… problems with Lori," he said vaguely.

Andrea turned her head to look at him and frowned. "Bullshit," she fired back. "You guys argue all the time. It doesn't usually lead to you becoming a hermit."

He tilted his face towards her. "I found divorce papers she had drawn up," he finally said.

"What?" The whole notion struck Andrea as ridiculous, anachronistic in their current world.

Rick rapidly relayed his blow-out with Lori to the blonde lying next to him. He finished with a long sigh.

She blinked several times, trying to wrap her head around his story. "… Wow," she eventually murmured.

"Yeah," he snorted. "Wow."

"So you've been hiding out for days, just brooding about this?"

He nodded in the darkness.

"Why?"

He furrowed his brow. "What do you mean, 'why'? She's in love with another man, Andrea."

Her expression was etched with confusion. "Look, no offence, but it's not like you've been entirely faithful to her."

Though she spoke the truth, her words still agitated him. "Yeah, but that only happened after she pushed me away."

"Are you seriously telling me that 'she did it first' is your defence?" she asked, cocking one eyebrow critically. "What are you, twelve?"

Rick stiffened slightly. "I…" Damn, she must've been one hell of a lawyer, he thought. He sighed. "You know that first night back at camp, when I found you all, she actually asked me if I wanted my wedding ring back?"

Andrea sucked in a breath. "Ouch."

"Yeah. I guess maybe it kills me that I was a good husband until she started being a crummy wife."

"Ah," Andrea said, her voice laced with sarcasm. "So what's happening between us is her fault."

"Don't put words in my mouth," he grumbled. "What we've got going is my fault and your fault. Possibly more your fault for always walking around looking so goddamned beautiful."

The sensual smile he flashed her had her stomach rioting. "And I suppose it's also my fault that you walk around looking so goddamned sexy?"

"Sexy, huh?" He rolled to his side, facing her.

Her eyes sparkled. "Fuck yeah," she purred. "I think it's the stubble. Or maybe there's just something about a man in uniform."

His body responded predictably to her playful banter, and he reached out to palm her hip, turning her so that she too was on her side, facing him.

"Easy now," she warned, and he couldn't tell if she was being serious or not. "I'm just here to talk."

He decided to err on the side of caution. His grin faded and he said, "I think I just realized what it is about those divorce papers that's got me so messed up: she makes me feel like I fail at being both a good husband and a good father."

He looked so dejected that Andrea couldn't help reaching her fingers out to his cheek. "I thought I'd talked you out of that nonsense. Remember the night Dale died, and what I told you on the roof of the RV? You are a good man, Rick Grimes. Granted, you've made some questionable decisions lately regarding me, but at your core, you're a good man." Her voice softened before she continued. "Don't forget, I have spent a lot of time with your son, and that is one good kid."

He smirked. "Yeah, I think he might have a bit of a crush on you."

"Can you blame him?" she asked, chuckling.

"Nope." Rick blatantly ran his eyes up and down Andrea's body. "Not one bit."

She playfully elbowed him in the ribs. "Calm down, Officer."

His smile was heated, wolfish.

"What I was saying," she said pointedly, trying to get back on track, though it was a bit of a struggle. "Is that you've clearly done a great job with him. He's conscientious, and caring, and respectful. And incredibly bright. And brave. You have no idea how many shitty, spoiled children I came across as a lawyer. But Carl… he's an amazing kid. So, you know, score one for his father raising him right."

He reached out and brushed a few locks of golden hair from her face, then ran his thumb gently across her lower lip. "Goddamn, Andrea, you make me feel like Superman," he said, his tone bordering on reverent.

Her eyes crinkled at the corners as she grinned impishly. "Are you suggesting you're a man of steel?" she said, her voice dripping with innuendo. She realized she was deliberately stoking his desire, and tried not to think about why she was doing so.

He pulled her hips against his groin, and she felt his need prod against her. "Wanna find out?" he asked, his voice raspy as he wiggled his eyebrows.

"Well," she murmured, running her fingers through his hair. "I have been having a bit of a tough time falling asleep the last few nights…"

"Sounds like you need your sleep aid again," he growled, bringing his lips to hers.

She welcomed his kiss without hesitation, revelling in the heat radiating from his body. She opened her mouth to his tongue, alternately sucking on it and rubbing it with her own tongue, her fingers tangling in his hair of their own accord. It was a long, leisurely kiss, evidence of emotions neither wanted to acknowledge.

They quickly dispensed of their clothes, fitting their bodies together with familiarity. They rediscovered the curves and valleys of one another, searching, caressing, touching. He kneaded her breasts before lowering his head to them, drawing first one, then the other into his mouth as a series of low moans slid from her lips.

She reached between their bodies and found his hard length, cupping him, stroking him, running her fingers over his sensitive tip. His moans joined hers in the night air.

He propped himself up and rolled to position himself above her, careful to support his weight. He lowered his head and kissed her deeply, then allowed his mouth to travel down her neck, across her collar bone, moving down to refocus his attention on her breasts. When his lips and tongue had her squirming beneath him, he took his mouth from her chest and licked and kissed his way down her taut stomach, then buried his head between her legs, yearning to enjoy the flavour of her at her very core once again.

She arched skyward, clutching at his head as he skilfully navigated the most intimate part of her with his tongue. Her head spun at a dizzying speed, and she whimpered and begged for release.

It wasn't long before she cried out, delirious as a powerful orgasm ripped through her. As she struggled to catch her breath, Rick's lips travelled down her legs. When he reached her feet, he straightened and stood in front of the hearse, erect and throbbing, and took hold of her ankles. He flipped her smoothly onto her stomach and began pulling her towards him.

She gasped at the feel of the cold metal of the hearse's hood against her bare skin, trembling at the feel of her nipples sliding across the sleek surface as she was pulled down the vehicle.

When she was finally positioned in front of him, he put his hands around her waist and lifted her slightly, raising her until she was on all fours. His breathing ragged, he pushed into her and took her from behind.

She cried out at the feel of him inside her, the angle bringing him into contact with internal pleasure points that she hadn't even realized she possessed. He gripped her tightly and began to thrust in and out of her, increasing his speed, the slapping of flesh against flesh echoing through the night.

"Oh God, oh God, oh God," she whimpered over and over, and he strained to hold on to his control, putting everything he had into bringing her pleasure. Despite the cool air, their bodies quickly built up a sheen of sweat, the product of both exertion and desire. With each of his thrusts forward she rocked herself backwards, meeting him stroke for stroke, bringing him deeper inside of her.

At last, with a shout of his name, Andrea found her second release, and he spilled himself into her with a guttural moan. He twitched and pulsed inside of her, flung into the abyss in a shower of sparks.

Taking in huge gulps of air, Andrea collapsed onto the hood, rolling onto her back. Rick flopped down beside her, thoroughly spent. He pulled her into his arms and held her as they both drifted in bliss, struck dumb by the intensity of their encounter.

When she regained the power of speech, she looked up at Rick's face. "I cannot believe we just did this again."

He grinned. "If you're saying that was unbelievable, then I agree."

She rolled her eyes. "Now who's putting words in whose mouth?" His smile refused to fade though, and she ultimately muttered, "Alright, yes, that was unbelievable."

They snuggled together in awed silence for a lengthy period of time, each feeling as though their bodies were still connected. The stars blinked above them as they lay cradled in one another's arms, unwilling to move or face reality.

When Rick felt Andrea shiver in the cool night air, he lowered his lips to hers and kissed her soundly, then said, "Guess it's time to go in."

She sighed. "Guess so." She sat up reluctantly and dressed; he did the same with equal resignation. When they were both fully clothed, she sat back down on the hood of the hearse, and he moved to stand in front of her. "On the off chance that someone's awake in there, you should probably go in first," she told him. "I don't feel like explaining to someone why we're together."

"Me neither," he said, exhaling loudly. He reached out and cupped her cheek. "I can't wait till we can fall asleep next to each other in a bed again."

She lifted her hand and covered his. "You really see that happening any time soon?"

He nodded with conviction. "I do, sweetheart. I really do." He kissed her one final time, a soft kiss full of sadness and hope. With one last long look into her beautiful blue-green eyes, he turned away from her and entered the rectory, his heart heavy.

She looked up at the moon and hugged her knees to her chest. She wondered if he really did have some plan that would allow them to explore the possibility of a relationship, or if the very notion of such a thing was just empty, wishful thinking on both their parts.

As she sat on the hearse, deep in thought, she heard a rustling of footsteps on the carpet of leaves that had been left behind by autumn. Before she could turn her head to investigate the sound though, a white hot pain exploded in the back of her skull, and her world went black.