I'm back, whoaa.
And people, if you're still reading, please do comment. Hearing from you is really addictive!
So, we have one of those *talk* chapters, hope you will like it.
Enjoy.
[rowyourboat, thanks. Corrected them :)]
XVIII.
That morning the prison's steep lawn was empty. She hadn't come out at the dawn like she had been doing since the last week, and alone Rick dealt with his crops and plants, trying to keep his mind dutifully where it belonged—on his job.
Though, the doubt was in him as he dug and cleaned the critters from the plants' roots, why clawing at the back of his mind—why the lawn was empty? Why she hadn't come out?
She couldn't know it, could she? Couldn't know what he'd dreamed last night. The notion, the notion of her knowing how he'd dreamed about her last night disturbed him as much as the dream itself, but the next second, leaning down over the greens, Rick shook his head at himself. Of course not. How could she? It wasn't like that he'd been talking in his sleep—
The thought stopped his hands, and he frowned.
God, he hadn't been talking in the sleep, had he? Calling out her name?
No.
What he'd seen…No. It hadn't been that kind of a dream, a dream in which he could've called out her name in fists of lust, dreaming doing much more than that, specifically to her…A part of him wished it had been. Lusting after her, wanting her, wanting her writhing beneath him—it would've been so much easier than…this. That he would've understood, accepted. He was a man, and she was a woman, an attractive woman who he'd been attracted to. It would've been…normal.
This…this wasn't normal, not even close.
In his mind, the dream was still so real—the smell of pancakes, kitchen, kids, she. It hadn't even felt like a dream, but a memory, as if…as if he'd recalled a forgotten memory, as if she'd really been making them pancakes for real in some distant past, she—his wife.
Had he really done this? Played her in his mind instead of Lori, his dead wife, his dead wife who had died because Rick couldn't have saved her in time. Now it felt like he was killing her memories, too, killing her another time, putting another woman in her place in his dreams, dreaming another woman in her stead—
And, Amanda looked like Lori, too. In a way—sometimes…she reminded him of Lori. Only five-four or so inch, Amanda wasn't as tall as Lori, and Lori wasn't as sleek as Amanda, but still their resemblances were there, something Rick had never thought on before until today.
Until he'd dreamed about her in Lori's stead.
God. How more fucked up he could've gotten, he didn't know.
His eyes darted around, looking at the empty field, looking around—trying to spot the familiar sight, and stopped himself when he understood what he was doing.
He almost growled out—feeling anger.
This—whatever it was, had to stop.
He couldn't do it. He shouldn't do it.
He turned to the plants then, working on them before Carl would come—and each time his eyes skipped around, to check out around, to check the fence door if someone was coming out, Rick turned them on meticulously on the job.
He'd—he'd just gotten too accustomed seeing her at the field in the mornings, that was it, he told himself. She had a way to make her presence known around herself, she was just that way. And his dream—his dream might've been a byproduct of his urges…and that talk of types and cooking, and his over wired up brain had cooked it up for him that this time. Rick had dealt with worse.
He was just lusting after her, that was it, then his overactive brain had done the rest, nothing more.
His eyes moved around another time on their own, and with a silent growl he turned them back on, and bowing his head, he looked at the dirt beneath him. Then before he could stop himself, the thought found him, and he wondered how it'd really been having her naked writhing under him, those lean legs wrapping around his waist tightly—then he stopped it, too—feeling his semi-hardness turning into a full one.
No. That apparently wasn't a good idea, either.
He—he should just wait it out—until it passed. Like how he did with anger—wait it out until it dimmed and common sense returned, the blood coming back to his brain. If he lost it how it had happened before with Tyreese, another disaster would've come.
He didn't want any disaster anymore. He didn't want any complications. He just wanted to keep his people alive, safe and fed. Was it too much to ask in these days? His eyes darted up at the empty field—
And—and where the HELL she was anyway?
Turning aside, he threw away the trowel in his hand—the gardening tool flying off of his hand with his fury. Bowing his head, he took off his gloves then, and ran his hand over his face, his fingers pinching the bridge of his nose as he stayed crouched at the ground.
He stood up a few minutes later, feeling tired—then his eyes caught Carl walking out of the fence door toward him. The morning was aging as Carl had come to join to him. Today he was going to talk about the forfeiting for the fences with Michonne and Daryl. They needed to find some steel beams to forfeit the fences. All of the wooden beams had almost cracked up two weeks ago the night Rick had come from Grady, and even though they didn't have any urgent need, Rick didn't want to take any more chances with the fence anymore.
Perhaps they even would start up a wall, too—not too long, as they would still kill walkers at the fences, just to give them more protection and strengthen.
Yeah, that he should find Daryl and Michonne, and talk what they could find…
Not this stuff. He had a job too, had people to keep safe and fed. He didn't have time for anything else.
"Mornin', Dad!" Carl called at him, holding the fence at the other side, and in return, Rick nodded. And Carl gave him a look, "You okay?"
That question again. These days everyone was asking him that…again.
Frowning, Rick tossed a glance at his son, "Yeah. I'm okay. Take that trowel over there—" he pointed with his head, where he'd thrown off the tool.
With another look, Carl nodded, and went to retrieve it back.
Then he saw Beth walking towards them with agitated steps, holding up Judith in her arms, and a semi panic stirring in his insides, Rick turned towards the young girl.
"Beth—?" Rick asked as the younger girl approached, "Is everything okay?"
Somehow it felt it wasn't, and he started getting worried, too… Of course, it wasn't. Amanda Shepherd was a creature of habits and routines, Rick had realized it, she would've never skipped anything if something hadn't happened…
He looked at the girl with a frown, "Is Amanda okay?" he asked.
And Beth gave him a look back, and Rick read surprise in it. "Yeah—she's feeling a bit down, but okay. She'll stay in. I was going to ask Carl to take care of Judith so I could look after her."
Rick nodded, taking in what the girl had said, and gestured at her to give Judith to him. "You asked your dad to check on her?" Rick asked back, taking Judith.
"I called Joan—" the young girl said back, "She's with her. It's okay—" she added again, nodding back at him determined, "We got this."
From his left side, a whistle echoed in the air, and Judith in his arms, Rick turned toward it, and saw Daryl waving at him along the fences. "Hey—Rick—come 'ver here," the tracker shouted, "You gotta see this."
Rick gave the baby to Carl and started walking toward Daryl as Beth and Carl started walking back to prison blocks as Rick wondered what had happened this time.
He stood in front of them below the watch tower as Daryl stood with Maggie, Glenn and Michonne, "Glenn found it just this morning—" Daryl started explaining as making him walk around the back of the prison, "It's started again."
Rick at first frowned, giving them side looks as they walked around to the backside of their grounds, then stopped seeing a few feet away from his boots the dead animals again.
Changing the location, whoever it'd been feeding the walkers, it had started again.
He shook his head, "We doubled up the watches?"
Glenn nodded, "Yeah. But it just happened."
Rick nodded back, "All right—" he told his people then, "Start looking around—observe. Don't question anyone yet, but we need to find out who's doing this." He paused, "Amanda has a theory," he continued, "I thought first someone tried to sabotage us, but it doesn't work. This—this isn't for us. She thinks someone has lost it."
They all looked at him. "As in…?" Maggie asked with a arched brow, and Rick momentarily thought how it was easier doing this with Amanda—two cops at patrol, completing their thoughts, but pushed away that thought too.
"As in losing it—yeah—" he said instead, "You remember the woman I encountered?" he asked them. None of them knew the details of that encounter, but they had heard it… "She tried to feed me his husband, dead husband, a walker. I think we might have something close to that among us, too."
"Who?" Glenn asked back.
"Well, I don't know—" Rick said in return, "We need to look around. Who's acting…strange. Out of ordinary. But don't make it too obvious. I don't want it to be heard."
Maggie then gave him a look, "Where's Amanda?" she asked a beat later, "Hasn't she started getting up?" she questioned further, "She's good with this stuff. We need her, too."
It was a sort of weird too hearing the words from Maggie, who had been always wary and distrustful of her, but Amanda had her blood too in her veins, too. "Beth said she doesn't feel this morning. She's inside," Rick informed them, and watched Maggie frown back.
"I thought she was getting better—" the older Greener said, "Beth said she'd even started doing some workout. What happened?"
Rick shrugged, "I don't know. Beth just said she doesn't feel well."
Maggie nodded, "Okay. I'll check on her—" she said suddenly, turning to leave, "I'll catch you up later."
But before she could leave, they heard his name shouted again from distance, a light feminine voice, "RICK!"
They all turned back and watched as Beth ran towards them below the steep. "Beth?" Maggie yelled at her, running to meet with her. They followed, too, Rick picking up speed, feeling something definitely off, and also had a feeling to whom it belonged to.
He just knew.
"Beth—what happened?" Maggie questioned as they all stopped, Beth leaning down to hold her knees breathless, then the girl lifted her head up at him.
"It—it's—Amanda—" she roughed out between breaths, and he just knew it…he just did… "She—I just c-caught her talking with Joan—"
Rick took a step closer, and held the girl's shoulder, "Beth—what happened?"
Her wide blue eyes found her— "She—she was talking about leaving and killing Gorman. I caught her telling it to Joan."
"What?" Maggie exclaimed out as Rick felt cold insides— "Has she—has she gone mad?"
"Rick—" Beth called at him again, standing up, "I told her I'm gon' tell you. She can't leave. You have to talk to her."
Rick stared at the younger girl. Then without a word, he turned and started marching back toward the prison.
Talk to her?
No.
He was—he was—he was going to kill her!
# # #
As Amanda waited in her cell, her head still between her hands, she wondered if it were too late now to sneak away—she could just grab a machine gun and run off…
Even that sounded more…preferable than waiting for Rick to show up—God, she hated it… She fucking hated it!
"I should go—" Joan said, giving her a look, Amanda even felt it with her bowed head, and she nodded back.
"Yeah…"
"Think about it, 'kay?" the woman told her then, "It's insane."
Amanda just stayed in silence.
Perhaps it was insane, but well, she was going to do it anyway.
She wanted to do it anyway. Him there… living like nothing had happened—living in his victory, hurting other people. It didn't feel right—she didn't want to stand aside and watch it, like she always did.
No.
Not this time.
She wanted revenge. More precisely, she wanted to rip off his dick and make him choke on it.
He deserved nothing less than that.
She stood up, standing in the cell—she just didn't want to explain herself…to Rick Grimes of all people.
Beth—Joan, they were different. She'd wanted Joan to know, and she wanted Beth not to feel bad after her. She hated that—she hated doing it to her, even to Maggie. They—they'd kept her alive, they'd given her their blood. She just couldn't let that sonofabitch go like nothing had happened.
She just couldn't.
Lamson's head blew off over her eyes again, and Tyreese followed…
Her clothes tightened around her body, like a cage she had fitted herself in—suffocating her, and she wanted her uniform—she wanted it back…the way it'd been, the way things were supposed to be, Lamson calling her Mandy giving one of his looks, despite knowing that she hated it…
Lamson, her partner—the only constant in her life she'd ever known for more than a decade, being there. Before him, Amanda had never known something like that. People came and went in foster homes—you always knew that.
She shook her head, tears threatening to break over her eyes, and her eyes catching at her bloodied pants that still lay over at the corner, she took them and went to the laundry room.
She wanted her uniform back. She could find a white tee shirt around—it wouldn't be the same—but she could pretend the rest.
She had a thing for that, as well.
The room was as cool as the last time she had come here to wash her uniform—and memory almost brough a tearful laugh out of her. How could she have been that stupid? How?
She threw the pants into the long wash basin and started filling the basin with water from one of water tanks close by and found the soap.
Blood…. It wasn't easy to wash off blood with only a bar of soap.
It stuck on everything.
She leaned down and started rubbing it. She didn't know how long it took exactly but when she felt a gaze behind her back, she knew it was him.
She knew Rick had found her…finally.
She didn't turn back, just kept washing her pants. She needed them back.
He stayed in silence for a little while, too, then he gave out a little sigh. "I thought you were sick this morning."
"Feel better—" she mumbled out, still leaning down.
"Were you faking it?" he asked back.
She shrugged off in response.
He scoffed, then told her—no, ordered her, "Stop it. We need to talk."
She didn't listen to it, "I need to finish this."
"Amanda, stop."
She kept rubbing… and a hand reached out over her shoulder and whisked it away from her hands and threw it across the room, "I said stop—goddammit!"
Her hands empty, her eyes widened—she twirled back— "WHAT the fuck are you doing!" she exclaimed loudly, looking at her pants as they fell at a corner away from them, her eyes flashing… she shook her head and started walking to take it back.
His hand grabbing her upper arm, stopped her this time.
She pulled herself away, pushing him off, holding on the last of her common sense not to knee him at his side… "You fucking moron!" she sneered at him in a hiss, "I was trying to clean it!"
"I told you to stop."
"Go fuck yourself, Rick."
She turned again, but he called at her again, this time keeping his hand off to himself, "For Christ's sake, Amanda, forget the bloody pants!" he shouted at her back as she walked to her pants, "We need to talk."
She bent down to take them off the tiles, "I don't want to talk." She walked back to the wash basin, and threw the damn thing back to the basin, "Leave me alone."
He gave out an incredulous laughter behind her back. "So that's it—" he asked her back, "I leave you alone and you run away to kill that bastard? Getting yourself killed in the meanwhile? That's what you want?"
Yes—came to the tip of her tongue, at least without the getting herself killed in the meanwhile part… she…she didn't have a death wish. She didn't want to die. Still. No. She just wanted to kill Gorman.
That was it. "I told him—I swore him—" she told him instead, starting washing her pants again, "I'm going to rip off his dick and make him eat it—make him choke on it," she sneered, "Hard to do it here sitting on my ass."
"Very nice," he sneered back from her behind, "Pray to tell how?"
She gave a rub the cloth between her fingers, and hissed, "I have a plan."
"Really?"
The question was taunting—his voice dry, and anger building in her even further, she threw the pants again down in the basin and turned around to face at him—her hands all soapy—bubbles across her skin— "Well—I was going to take one of submachine gun—"
He cut her off, "You mean you were going to steal from me again?"
For a second, she really wanted to kick him at his balls, she really wanted it… "Fine!" she spat, "Have your damn precious guns! I'll find another way!"
Rick shook his head, "Amanda—do you even listen to what you're saying?" he asked her, "This's insane."
She raised a soapy hand at him and waved the bubbles at his direction, "I don't care!" she yelled back, "I'm going to kill him! He's out there, doing whatever he wants at Grady, and I'm not okay with that, Rick. I won't let him win this time!"
Not after all the things he had done… No.
"So this's what's about?" Rick asked, walking to her closer, his eyes stern, and she saw his anger building even further as she wiped her hands clean at her jeans, "Y-you want revenge?"
Her head snapped up at him, "Yes, dammit! I want revenge!" she yelled again, "He killed my partner. He killed Tyreese!"
He shook his head, his eyes capturing hers, "Don't bring them into this. You don't want to do it for them, you want to do it for yourself."
"He deserves to die," she hissed back, looking back at him in the eye, "Painfully."
She expected his anger turn worse after that, but he gave her another look, then shook his head with a sigh, "Amanda, it's not worth it—" he told her then, "It's not worth to risk your own life."
"Every breath we take is a risk, remember?" she shot at him back Beth's father words, "You said it yourself too. I can decide what to do with mine." She stopped then too and shook her head, "I—I owe them at least that much."
"They're dead—" Rick said—his words…simple—his voice cool, matter of fact, and Amanda for a second thought Rick Grimes was another kind of a bastard, too.
"Yes…" she said back, "Because of him."
"What about what you owe us then, Amanda?" he asked her a second later, taking another step further closer to her, getting in her personal space, and his eyes—those damn keen, sharp blue eyes found her again, "What about us?"
Us?
What us? There was no us.
"Slow down there, cowboy—" she sneered, "There's no us! We only kissed once. Once," she repeated, and his face expressionless, carved out of stone, he looked at her back. "And we did it only because we both thought we were never going to see each other again. Don't even try to deny it! So, don't act now like we're soulmates or something!"
Blue eyes, brazenly lit with a cold fire, stared at her, "I wasn't talking about that, but thank ya for clarification, Amanda—" he told her back coldly, and continued before she could open her mouth and said something, "I was talking about us—" He repeated pointedly, "All of us. Tyreese took a bullet for you. Beth—Beth kept you alive all the way back here. When she stepped out of the car, she couldn't even walk. They carried her inside. She bled herself dry for you. Maggie gave you blood for three hours during the surgery. She was right beside you the whole time. I—I watched you die, Amanda. I listened to that damn beep of the flatline. I revived you back with my own hands."
He took another step in, "So yeah, what about us?" he asked again as she stared back at him in silence, her anger leaving its place into a sadness she felt deep into her bones, and tears started filling in her eyes, "Why are you so damn determined to die on us?"
She shook her head, bowing it, "Rick—" she murmured.
"I know it feels wrong, but you have to let it go—" he told her then.
She shook her head again, "I don't want to."
"You have to. There's no other choice. Do you think I like it too? Do you think I want to leave him there, knowing what he did? Do you think it feels right to me? It doesn't. But I've got no other choice. He's just one more bastard outside. Even if you kill him, it won't change anything—"
She cut him off, lifting her head up, "What about people at Grady-? What about Percy? I'm supposed to leave him behind, too?"
He shook his head. "We don't have the luxury of doing the right thing anymore, Amanda. You have to decide what you want. You want to live here with us, be a part of us or you want to go and risk your life for revenge…for getting back at him? I know you don't only think of Percy, Amanda. Don't lie to yourself."
She couldn't, god, she couldn't... "He deserves it," she hissed at him again.
He gave her another look back, stern but cool… "I know—" he accepted, "My best friend… my partner. He did something he shouldn't have, either. When I learned it, I wanted to break his jaw—make him choke in his teeth. He deserved it. But I didn't. I let it go. It wasn't weakness, Amanda. It took everything."
She shook her head, recalling what he'd told her before and gave out a bitter laugh, "You killed him, Rick. You told me yourself."
But he shook his head back at her. "Not because of that—" he said in return, his words simple and placid, "I did it because there was no going back and we were stuck with him, and he wasn't going anywhere. I killed him because if I hadn't, he was going to kill me instead." He stopped again, "If you want to go, go. Take the gun as well. I won't stop you." He paused for a second, "Hershel was right. It's your life at the end, we all have to decide which way we want to risk it. I wish I could come and help you, but I won't. I can't risk it that way. Not anymore."
"I—I didn't ask for it, Rick—" she told him back. Never. She—she didn't want them to die on her as well. "I don't want you to die on me, either."
"I know—" he said, "This place—this place is what all matters to me, Amanda. Keeping my people safe, my family, my children… safe, together, fed. That's what's important, everything else than…" He shook his head, "There's that man… another sonofabitch. He—he tortured us, he killed us. He almost ruined the prison. We won at the last minute. He ran away. He's out there somewhere. Michonne still looks for him. I don't. But I want to. I so want to, too. Want to find him and kill him for what he did, painfully." His eyes stared at her again, "But I won't because he's just one of sonofabitches outside there. He's not important." He gestured with his head, and repeated, "This—this's what's important. Our home. Us."
"And I'm one of those, Rick?" she asked back with a small voice.
His eyes never wavered from her as he answered, "You're sleeping at C, two cells block away from my son and my baby girl," he told her simply, "I've pegged you as a smart girl, Amanda. Do the math."
Despite everything between them, she laughed at that. He shook his head again, running a hand over his face, "I want you to stay, Amanda. I want you to take strolls with Beth, do your silly workouts. I want you to make patrols with me at the fences. Even Maggie asked for you today. We found something. She wanted you to look at it. So—so don't go and die on us, okay? We—we watched enough people die."
Without understanding what was happening, her eyes still stuck on him, she found herself nodding, "Okay."
"Good—" he told her back, "You've got Greene blood in you now, Amanda. If nothing else, that alone makes you one of us now."
Wordlessly, she nodded again. "Now go and find Beth and tell her you won't do anything stupid," he ordered her, "You gave her a heart attack this morning."
She bowed her head, a redness coming up over her neck, "I know. I'm sorry."
"It's okay. Just don't do anything stupid."
She nodded again with a resigned smile, and he turned and started walking away. "Rick—" she called hastily at his back, "I—what I said-earlier—about…um—us—" she faltered, not knowing what to say, but she felt she—she had to…but he shook his head at her, stopping her.
"No. This's enough for me today," he told her back, his voice turning stern again, "I can't take any other talk right now." He paused a second, giving her a last look over his shoulder, "We're gonna do it later."
Wordlessly, she nodded again, not quite understanding what he'd meant, but felt it as well. She—she was tired as well. So, in silence she watched his retreating back as he walked out of the washing room.
# # #
She apologized to Beth in Rick Grime's style.
After their talk, she went out to the fields, and started picking up flowers—a boutique of yellow, blue flowers and daisies, and tied it with a piece of cloth she'd found around before she had come out. Rick had returned to his field, had already started working in his field with Carl, and Amanda kept her eyes ahead down at the ground, looking for more flowers—the best she could find around.
She went back a quarter hour later and found Beth at the yard's benches, Judith sitting now on her knees, sunbathing.
She was alone with the baby, and Amanda walked toward them, her hands hid behind her back. Beth gave her a look, a hurtful one, and leaping up the first step, Amanda brought her arms up, and extended the boutique toward her. "I'm sorry," she told the girl, holding her arm out, "I was an idiot."
Beth smiled big, taking the flowers with her empty hand, and looked at her, "You staying?" the young girl.
Amanda nodded simply. "Good—" Beth told her back the way Rick had done, "You know if you died, I wouldn't have cried after you, either," she added after a second, almost thoughtfully as Amanda sat down beside her.
Amanda let out a small laughter, "C'mon—not at least a sole tear of sisterhood?" she asked back and bumped her shoulder playfully against the younger girl, holding Judith's small hand, looking down at the baby, "You know…I've got Greene blood in my veins now."
The girl laughed, and gave her a look, "What did Rick tell you?" she inquired then.
Still holding the baby's hand, Amanda let out a sigh, "Well, basically, he told me not to be an idiot, Beth."
# # #
That night Rick took the first shift along the fences with Daryl.
They walked together in silence, even the growls and snarls from the fences lessened with darkness, their flashlights lighting the ground as they looked for fresh dead animals.
Whoever might be doing this, he knew, was coming at nights. There wasn't any other time. "Hm—" Daryl suddenly broke the silence between them, still holding his light down as the same way Rick did, "Heard Shepherd stays."
Turning aside, the flashlight still down at the ground, he gave the hunter a look—almost surprised that he'd asked that. Daryl—Daryl was worse with the talking stuff even worse than him, but as he'd done it this time, so Rick nodded. "Yeah, she does."
Daryl nodded, "Good. Another cop might be good for us." Absently Rick nodded as the tracker gave him a side look, "A new partner for you."
Rick almost snorted out, "Yeah."
Then suddenly Daryl turned and looked at him, "Can I ask ya something, man?" he asked directly.
Taken aback with his sudden so-not-like Daryl move, Rick nodded, feeling off—feeling something he would've preferred not to answer was coming, but Daryl—if it was Daryl—who never asked permission to ask anything to anyone—asking it, Rick felt he should've heard it.
He nodded him to go ahead. "Michonne—" Daryl started then, "Michonne 's been lookin' for Governor for six months now. You aint never bothered by it."
Then Rick understood. He shook his head, "It's not the same," he told the other man back, "Michonne doesn't know where Governor is. She just goes after a cold trail. Amanda knows where Gorman is, knows it well." He paused for a second, "It's different, Daryl."
"How?" the hunter asked back.
And Rick stayed in silence this time. He—he could give a million reasons why it was different. Governor—he had an unfinished business with Governor, his own vendetta—which he chose to let it go at the moment, but if the man somehow was found—he didn't know. But nevertheless, that wasn't the answer why he stayed in silence.
Because he had never cared much Michonne leaving to look for the man, but if their positions were reserved, and Amanda would've wanted to do the same—wanted to look for her own sonofabitch, Rick knew his reaction would've been still the same. He knew with a perfect clarity that he still wouldn't have wanted her to do that.
It was—it was simply different.
Because...she was. She was different.
So, "she's different" thing. LOL. While I was writing, it came to my attention how Gorman and Amanda situation started resembling Michonne and Governor, and I thought I could've played with it, as Michonne isn't yet involved with Rick. And I think it'd make things a lot clearer for Rick. And of course, as the silent observant as ever, Daryl was the one who picked it up.
Their talk was heavy-and Amanda stays, all in frankness, I don't want Amanda go on a revenge mission to find Gorman, and such, and let's be real, Rick would've never risked it for people he doesn't even know, either. I think Amanda needs to learn to let it go her obsession. I want her to try to settle down-having to start a familial connection with the Greenes before shit hits the fan like usual. He he, I really wanted her to make it up for Beth in Rick's fashion too, with flowers and such :) And of course, telling her that she's got Greene blood in her veins, too. Before any romance with Rick, I want her having a family love with the Greenes. The girl deserves it :)
For Rick part, well, *that* other talk has still come... I think I'll get it out the next chap, too. In this chapter, I felt it would be too much, as Rick couldn't have done that much of talking in one single go, lol. So, he left it there, knowing they need to talk, but later.
"She's different" part is coming from Suits too, from Harvey and Donna. Amanda felt it too, when she didn't ask him to stay for sex, and it was Rick's turn now. I'm gonna play with that too, as in the Suits. I was a big fan of Harvey and Donna, and I want Rick and Amanda have the same dynamics for a while. Not romantically involved, but different for each other.