A/N: I'm continuing my crusade against angst with even more fluff! Have a Married At First Sight prequel of sorts. Michonne and Rick get acquainted with touching one another. Please let me know what you think
The first time they touched, it caught Rick completely off guard. Her hand clasped his shoulder roughly, jerking him back so suddenly that he nearly lost his footing. Barely a second later, a walker snapped at the empty air Rick had just occupied. In another blink of an eye, a katana sliced the head cleanly from its shoulders.
"You ok?" a voice asked calmly.
Rick spun on his heel, heart beating wildly. Michonne was just behind him, her sword clutched in one hand, her other still on his arm. He locked eyes with her, the familiar sensation of nervousness sweeping over him at once. "I'm fine," he managed to tell her, his throat tight. "Thanks."
She nodded, looking somewhat bemused. Her eyes, wide and dark and alert, flicked over him. She let go of him, her fingers brushing his arm as she returned to grip her katana two-handedly. "Be careful," she smiled at him just the slightest, hurrying back off toward the waiting caravan.
Rick watched her go, tracking her precise movements as she joined her team from the Kingdom. Michonne turned back towards him for just a moment before climbing aboard one of the trucks. She smiled again. Rick's face flushed a deep crimson.
"Smooth…" The comment came from Glenn. Rick's friend laughed, shaking his head beneath his faded ball cap.
"Shut up," Rick fired back. It wasn't the most dignified response, and only served to make Glenn laugh harder.
"Might want to get that blushing under control," Glenn suggested, returning to the task at hand.
Rick only blushed more furiously, hiding his face as he continued on with the supply run.
-l-l-l-
"Rick…" Lori sighed as though she'd never met anyone more irritating in her life.
"What?" he asked, turning confused eyes on her.
"You don't always need to do that," Lori shook his hand away, freeing her fingers.
"Hold your hand?" Rick furrowed his brow.
"I ain't a little girl. You don't need to protect me," she flipped her hair over her shoulder, pinning him with her derisive glare. "The scariest thing in here is the tiger."
Deciding it wasn't worth the fight, Rick let her go, putting space between them. "I was just trying to be nice," he shrugged off her dismissal. These community meetings could be draining, an endless parade of issues that needed fixing, supplies that needed fetching, tasks that he would need to help with. He'd reached for his girlfriend's hand absentmindedly. Apparently, his touch disgusted her during the light of day.
"You don't always have to be so nice," she informed him.
Holding in another sigh, Rick turned his attention to the members of the Kingdom who'd just arrived. "I'm going to go greet Ezekiel," he told Lori.
"I'll be here," she remained seated, barely looking back at the others.
Rick moved off without her, fixing his face to mask his annoyance. He joined his parents in the receiving line, shaking hands with their guests. When he spotted Michonne, his irritation evaporated.
"Hey," he smiled at her, wiping his palm on his jeans before offering it to her.
"Hi Rick," Michonne smiled back. Her long locs were free tonight, dancing into her face as she nodded at him. She shook his hand, her strong fingers gripping his before releasing him. Rick reluctantly let her go.
"Rick," his father turned to him. "Why don't you and Michonne sit together?" It was not a suggestion, and both parties knew it.
Nervously, Rick walked her to the front pew, sliding in between Lori and Michonne. Both young women nodded at one another coolly before apparently resigning to never speak. Rick sat between them, trying and failing to focus on the meeting. His hand was twitching again, longing for contact.
He tried not to dwell on the fact that it was Michonne he yearned to reach for and not Lori.
To his right, Michonne let out a small sigh as the members of their community began to gripe. She looked at him out of the corner of her eyes, shooting him a conspirator's grin.
"Try to stay awake" she whispered with a wink. "Our parents are going to quiz us after."
"Bet I get more questions right than you," he teased.
"You're on," she reached for him, bumping her fist against his.
She kept her hand just centimeters from his through the whole town hall meeting. When the quiz came afterward, Rick lost their bet soundly.
He found he didn't mind so much.
-l-l-l-l-
Michonne had spent the whole of the day skittish as a fawn around him, but there was nothing tentative about her now. Her bare arms were draped over his shoulders, her fingers fisted snuggly in his hair, her legs wrapped on either side of his waist. Rick wasn't quite sure how they'd gotten here, nearly naked and breathless and married—married—but he'd need to thank God and both of their communities sometime soon.
He hadn't expected this tonight. Hell, he wasn't sure he'd expected it to ever happen. Nevertheless, Michonne, beautiful, graceful, fierce Michonne, had seemingly no reservations about their union now as she pressed herself into him. She ground against him, rolling her hips enticingly, almost desperately. His self-control was splintering.
"Do you still want to get it over with?" he managed to gasp. She had seemed resigned to consummate their marriage sooner rather than later, an obligation she did not look enthused about. Perhaps her mind had changed, but he'd stop if she wanted to, if she wasn't ready. He could wait as long as she needed to.
"No," she shook her head. Her skin was heated, her lips still brushing his. Rick felt the sting of disappointment despite his chivalrous intentions. He moved to release her, to put space between them, but she stopped him. "I want you to go slow," she instructed, her voice low, full of something he'd never heard before.
"Whatever you want," he promised her, his blood rushing. He laid her out across the mattress beneath him, determined to touch her in all the ways he'd only ever fantasized about. He dragged his hands up her bare legs, flattened a palm against her stomach, kissed every inch of her within reach. Michonne encouraged him through her plaintive moans, returning his affections with plenty of touching of her own. She was particularly infatuated with his hair, holding the curls between her fingers, tightening around them when he discovered the spots that brought her the most pleasure.
By the time she reached down for him, catching him snuggly in her grasp, Rick felt as though he was freefalling. When he pushed inside of her at last, he nearly blacked out from the sheer pleasure of it all. Remembering his promise to go slow, he rocked gently in and out, angling this way and that until her breathless gasps became one long, sustained cry. Every bit of her tightened around him at once, her fingers digging into his shoulders, her legs clamping around his waist, her body pulling him deeper and deeper until he fell clear over the edge, bringing her with him.
Rick collapsed atop Michonne, their bodies heated, drenched, spent completely. He made a motion to release her, determined to give her space. Michonne held tight, rubbing lightly at his back.
Content, Rick laid in his wife's arms, kissing down her neck and shoulders, listening to her pant beneath him. He was vaguely aware of the sound of his own voice as they spoke quietly to one another. He rolled to his back and Michonne followed him, sprawling out across his bare chest. Smiling, he wrapped his arms around her again.
"I think this is going to work out, Mrs. Grimes," he whispered, kissing her hairline.
"I think it will," she agreed, relaxing against him.
