"We have one shot at this," Sasha explained, her arms folded over her chest. "One shot to take this guy out before he gets more powerful than ever."
Michonne was at Rick's side, her leg pressed against his on the couch. Rick was doing his best to focus on the matter at hand, but he could feel the echo of her touch on his skin, her hands in his hair, the taste of her lips. It was all he could seem to think about. Glenn and Maggie kept stealing furtive looks at him, delight poorly disguised on both of their faces. Michonne, for her part, seemed content to ignore them completely, all of her attention on her sister.
"You think you could recreate the potion?" Michonne asked, leaning forward.
"Some of the trees in your garden are hundreds of years old. It's possible that the original potion came from them. It's a long shot." Sasha busied herself with petting the cat in her lap.
There was clearly something between the sisters that was not being addressed. The tension was uncomfortable, made worse by the fact that Michonne's family had walked in on them. Rick met Sasha's eyes from across the room. She stared back, her expression unreadable.
"What about the party?" Glenn asked. "Hundreds of people are going to be here tomorrow. Not to mention the parade."
"They could get hurt, especially if the Governor shows up," Maggie scooted closer to Glenn.
"The Governor will assuredly show up here tomorrow," Michonne did not sound worried in the slightest. Rick looked curiously at her. She laid a hand on his leg. The touch sent a shock through him, his blood heating at once.
"So what's the plan?" Rick asked, looking at Michonne.
Glenn and Maggie looked interested in the answer to this question as well. Sasha, however, turned her gaze to Rick.
"You should go home," Sasha looked at him. "Before you get hurt."
Rick opened his mouth to respond but was beaten to the punch.
"I mean," Glenn's voice surprised Rick, his words even more so. "He's held his own so far. Michonne said he took down Merle."
"With her help," Sasha pointed out, nodding her head in Michonne's direction.
"I was fighting the Governor," Michonne clarified calmly. "Rick can handle himself."
"I'm not saying you're not tough," Sasha looked back at him, her tone softening just the slightest. "But this is different. This is magic."
Rick opened his mouth to defend himself, but was cut off again.
"You haven't practiced in years," Glenn countered. "If anything, Rick's seen more magic this year than you have."
Beside him, Michonne shifted. Rick sensed the tide taking a hard turn. He hastened to speak. "We've been through this," he said as calmly as he was able. "I ain't leaving. Not until this is done. Michonne helped me get my man. I'm helping her."
"Rick's staying," Michonne said, daring anyone to contradict her. "We need everyone we can."
Sasha glowered for a moment. She looked to Maggie. The young woman only shrugged. "It's going to take all of us," Maggie pointed out.
Sasha sighed. "Fine," she said. She stood up, still holding the cat. "You two should get some rest. I'll take first watch."
Michonne nodded, her mind clearly elsewhere. A tiny divot was forming between her eyebrows and her lips were beginning to purse. Rick wondered if Sasha could tell that her sister had some scheme forming, or whether years of separation had made them strangers.
"Maggie and I will be in the garden," Glenn said. "We'll figure this out, Michonne. We promise."
Michonne smiled gratefully, reaching for the younger man. "We will," she affirmed. She stood as well, looking at her sister. Something unspoken passed between them. Sasha walked to the door, pausing at the threshold. Rick watched, wondering again about Michonne's past, about her life beyond their time together.
"You ok?" he asked her lowly, his hand flexing as he resisted reaching for her.
She smiled at him, looking at him fondly. "I'm fine," she said. "We all are."
"Want me to go back to my room?" he asked cautiously. "Or I can keep watch too-"
"Stay," she said simply. "I'll be back."
Rick hid his smile as the sisters disappeared through the door out into the hallway. He watched them go, missing Michonne beside him already.
"So," Glenn began, starling Rick. He was clearly trying not to burst with excitement. "You and Michonne, huh?"
Rick looked at him, holding in a sigh. It wasn't the young couple's fault at all, but they'd wandered into Michonne's kitchen at the worst possible moment. He straightened up, mustering the friendliest tone he could, even as he ignored their question in lieu of one of his own. "You two were at the graveyard that night, right? The footage was erased though," Rick said.
To their credit, neither bothered to deny it.
"Sasha," Maggie explained. "We were there trying to do something for Michonne."
"I figured," Rick nodded. He had a million questions, but only one seemed critical. "And you're witches too?"
"Yup," Glenn answered. "Michonne's mom took me in, when I was just a kid. The powers...kinda freaked a few of my foster parents out. Cycled around until I got here." Glenn said this all with the air of a person discussing the weather.
Maggie reached for him. "I came later. Met Glenn in college. Realized we had a few things in common."
Glenn grinned, kissing her hand. Rick felt a funny kind of affection for them.
"You've known Michonne a long time then," Rick observed.
"Honorary members of the family," Maggie said.
"But there's no curse for you two?" Rick asked.
They shook their heads. Another silence spread between them.
"I thought so," Rick observed. He felt tired again.
"The curse," Glenn started. "It doesn't affect everyone. Michonne's grandma had a sister with a wife. They lived a long time."
Rick chuckled in surprise. "Guessing a Confederate general didn't really consider that possibility," he mused, grinning as he looked down at his hands.
Glenn laughed along with him, "Guess not," he ventured.
"I think it's really sweet, you and Michonne" Maggie ventured. "Michonne, she doesn't trust a lot of people."
"She trusts you though," Glenn imparted.
"Guess so," Rick's eyes wandered to the door. He could hear the gentle sound of both Sasha and Michonne's voices speaking quickly. He knew Sasha had reservations about he and Michonne, hesitations that went deeper than the norm. "The curse," Rick said suddenly, turning to Glenn and Maggie. "Do you think it's permanent?"
They both colored at once, their eyes falling. "If it isn't," Glenn hazarded, "we could break it by killing the Governor."
Rick nodded. "That's what I was thinking," he said. He flexed his hands, setting them back down in his lap. "Do you think she's got a plan to kill him?"
Maggie nodded. "Knowing Michonne, she's had a plan for a while."
"Whether she tells us is the trick," Glenn said.
The trio halted conversation, listening to the low murmur of the sister's voices through the door.
-l-l-l-l-l-
"It's not smart," Sasha said, crossing her arms over her chest.
"I'm not saying it is," Michonne didn't bother to argue. There was no point that Sasha could present that Michonne herself had not already mulled over. There were a million reasons to keep Rick at bay. The fact was, she was tired of that life.
"So you're just gonna cuddle up with him? Are you willing to risk him like that?" Sasha asked, surprised. She dropped Virgil the cat, allowing the animal to streak away, back towards where Glenn and Maggie were seated with Rick. "I thought we had an agreement. I thought we weren't going to do that anymore." Sasha swallowed, clearly upset.
"Sasha," Michonne sighed. "It really isn't your business."
"That's what I told you when I started dating Abraham." Sasha reminded her. "He died. Same as Bob. Same as Mike. Same as my dad, and yours, and our grandfather-"
"Because of the Governor," Michonne stressed. "Because of what he took from us." Michonne inhaled, trying to calm herself. "I'm sick of this," she admitted. "Aren't you? Living on eggshells, keeping everyone at arm's length."
Sasha blinked away tears. "It keeps them alive," she said quietly. "We agreed. We agreed it was worth it."
"I thought it was," Michonne said. "But it's all changing now. You've noticed it, haven't you?" she pressed. "Our magic's gotten stronger. I thought it was a trick but…" Michonne sighed, searching for a way to phrase her thoughts. "This isolation, it weakens us. We were always strongest together."
"It's been a long time since we were all together," Sasha said lowly.
"We've got a chance now," Michonne said. "A chance to build something new. The way mama did."
"They all died," Sasha sniffed, crossing her arms over her chest. "Everytime we try, they die."
"Then we don't try this time." Michonne straightened up. "This time, we put him down."
Sasha looked out of the darkened window. The sounds of the Quarter could be heard, loud music, drunken shrieks of delight. Somewhere among them, the Governor was biding his time, laying his plans. "Tomorrow he's going to get his hands on so much power no one will be able to stop him."
"He won't," Michonne shook her head. "Today in the swamp, I was capable of things I didn't even know I could do. Without thinking. It was just natural."
"Like this thing with Rick, right?" Sasha guessed. Tears began to cut down her face, falling fast and thick. She sniffled, her words gaining speed, carried on shaky breaths. "He makes you want to forget about the curse. Makes you want to take a chance. He makes you feel like you can beat it. Because you have to."
Michonne's heart clenched, the raw wound opening again. "Bob wasn't your fault, Sasha. Neither was Abe. Like Mike wasn't mine." Michonne reached for her sister.
Sasha stepped closer to her, running her hand over her own face. "We put this bastard down then," Sasha said. "For all of them."
"For all of them," Michonne agreed, pulling Sasha towards her. They hugged, hearts hammering against one another. Sasha released her first.
"The potion," she said. "I think I know how we can do it. We need everyone at full strength though."
"We will be," Michonne nodded.
"We'll need your garden," Sasha said. "And it needs to be Halloween."
"Midnight," Michonne agreed. "At the stroke of midnight."
"I'll meet you in the kitchen downstairs," Sasha said. She pulled away, walking towards the door. When she laid her hand on the knob to the outside, she paused, looking over her shoulder.
"He seems like a good man," Sasha observed.
"He is," Michonne called back.
Michonne stood in her hallway, listening to the Halloween pre-party outside, and the silence echoing in her suite. From her living room, she could hear the low rumble of Rick's voice, murmuring soothing nonsense sounds. Her family spellbook was there with him, the pages well-worn, decades of history carefully outlined. Michonne had poured over them, plotting. It would have to be enough now. Halloween was tomorrow, and she was running out of time.
Rick's voice came louder, lilting. Michonne paused to listen to him playing with Virgil, her heart pounding at the cadence of his voice. She worried her lip between her teeth, considering. Slowly, she reentered her suite. Her living room was empty, save for Rick curled up on the couch with Virgil on his chest. He tilted his head up towards her when Michonne entered.
"I was wondering if you'd come back," he grinned sleepily at her.
Michonne walked towards him, lowering herself to the cushions. The cat, perhaps sensing her mood, yawned before vacating his place, heading off to do whatever it was that Virgil did.
"I told you I would," she reminded him, covering his hand with her own. Rick linked their fingers.
"Are you nervous about tomorrow?" he asked. "Do you need help planning?"
She smiled gently at him, tracing the rough curve of his fingernail with her thumb. "I have a plan," she assured him. "There's nothing left to do but wait."
Rick nodded, staring up at her. "Anything I can do to help?" he questioned.
Michonne bent her head towards Rick's, her locs falling around both of their faces. Her pulse raced immediately at his proximity. Up close, she could count every freckle, every laugh line, could see the salt and pepper of his beard. It was a face she liked immensely, one she was already used to seeing. The thought terrified her.
Rick sat up, one hand still wrapped around hers, the other slinking around her waist. She could feel it burning through the thin cotton of her dress. She reached for him as well, cupping the curve of his jaw before pressing her lips to his. Their kiss fell into a rhythm quickly, panting against one another until Michonne's blood ran hot. Rick pulled her into his lap, settling her where Virgil had been just moments before. She moved closer still, grinding herself against the hardness growing between them. Rick groaned into her mouth.
"I should let you rest," Michonne laughed lightly, leaning her head against Rick's when they came up for air.
Rick's hands tightened around her waist. "I ain't tired," he promised her, dragging her against him. This time it was her who groaned. She arched into him, stealing another kiss. "You sure, Chonne?" he asked, clearly straining.
Michonne smiled. "I'm sure," she promised, drawing him up and off of the couch.
Her bedroom offered more privacy, especially with the door locked behind them. Her canopy bed sat, large and looming. She started towards it, but Rick stopped her, catching her lightly around her hips.
"Hold on a second," he grinned, stepping towards her. Her breath caught as he crowded her, drawing her in for another bone-melting kiss. She swayed in his arms, bracing herself on his shoulders. Rick's hands resumed their wandering, trailing down to the bottom of her skirt. His thumbs rubbed patterns into her bare skin, toying with the hem. "I like the way you dress," he mumbled against her lips, clutching her thigh.
She wanted to giggle, but a moan escaped instead. She fingered the sleeves of his cotton shirt, gathering herself. "I like your hat," she admitted. "And your beard," she dragged her fingers through it.
Rick grinned. "The beard ain't going anywhere," he said, kissing her neck before bending to trail his lips over her collarbone. "And I can go grab the hat if you want."
"Next time," she giggled, sighing as his tongue darted out.
He groaned. "Wanted you from the first moment I saw you," Rick continued, running his hands beneath her dress. He cupped her over the thin fabric of her panties before sliding his palms under. "You're so damn beautiful," he squeezed, rocking against her. "Can't stop watching you."
She leaned forward, mapping his body with her fingers. "It's the magic," she teased, dizzy already from his touch.
"Yeah, it's a little bit of that," he agreed, drawing her leg up. "But it's mostly just you, Michonne." He kissed her messily. Michonne hung on, moaning hungrily into his mouth.
"You aren't so bad yourself," she gasped, pulling back from him. Michonne reached for the hem of her dress, drawing it up over her head. Rick's eyes widened as she came into view.
"Shit," he cursed reverently, his neck going scarlet at once. The blush disappeared beneath his shirt. Michonne longed to know how far down it went.
"I want to see you," Michonne flushed under his gaze.
He complied at once, helping her tug off his shirt before starting on his jeans. With difficulty, he managed to shake them off, leaving his heavy leather belt still in the loops as they fell to the ground in an unceremonious pile.
Michonne took a moment to look at him, his faintly tanned skin, his muscled arms, his bowlegged gait. His boxers did little to hide his attraction to her. She swallowed thickly, backing up until her legs hit the mattress of her bed.
"Come here," she requested, sitting atop it.
He stalked towards her, bending down to kiss her again. Michonne parted her lips for him at once, gasping as his palms touched her bare skin. He lifted her, sliding them up the bed until her head was at the base of her pillows. His weight atop her was delightful. She pressed every part of herself to him, shivering as the light brown hair dusting his body tickled her. Michonne giggled against him as Rick hefted her higher into his arms.
He grinned at her, moving to press wet kisses into her neck. "You ok?" he asked.
Michonne parted her legs, dragging Rick against her center. He groaned, his touch faltering. "I'm great," she whispered back, biting gently at him.
Rick's hand crept between them, sliding down until he could cup her. "Fuck," the word left him on a shudder. "Christ, Michonne…"
"For you," she felt no shame at her reaction to him, especially not when she could feel him, searing hot and iron hard, pressing against her thigh. She parted her legs wider for him, rolling into his touch. He made short work of the thin cotton barriers between them, tossing her panties and bra to the side.
He huffed, kissing her again. His fingers danced over her before pushing in, first one, then a second. Michonne clenched around him, drawing more cursing from him. "Shit, Michonne."
The stretch of him inside her made her desperate for more. She arched again, her nails scraping at his shoulders. He began slowly, giving her time to adjust, his eyes watching her carefully. His other hand slid back up her body, cupping and pinching and kneading in turn.
"Rick," she tangled her hands in his hair, holding on tight. She was coming alive beneath his hand, racing towards the edge of a cliff she never thought she'd fall over again. "Baby," she gasped, "I'm-"
He pressed deeper still, his thumb rubbing circles. "Come on," he coaxed, his breath warm against her ear. "Come on, Chonne. Let me feel you."
She obeyed, her body shattering, his name on her lips. Panting, she lulled her head back, attempting to gather her wits. Rick sat up, smiling at her.
"Still good?" he asked.
In answer, she laced her fingers in his hair, yanking him down against her.
-l-l-l-l-l-
She was heart-achingly beautiful in the wake of her climax, still clutching him as she caught her breath. Rick held her as she gradually returned to earth, doing his best to calm himself. He wanted her so badly that it was hard to think, so much so that it hurt. She kept rolling into him, as though she was unconsciously seeking him out. The feel of her, even around his fingers, threatened to send him into a tailspin.
"Michonne," he called her name again gently, drawing her higher into his arms.
"I want to feel you," she said in answer, looking at him through heavily lidded eyes. Her touch left goosebumps as her hand crept lower. She curled her fingers into the waistband of his boxers. Rick fell forward into her, pulse pounding in his ears.
"Gonna kill me," he said without thinking about it, straining towards her.
Michonne froze for a moment. Her eyes met his. Rick opened his mouth to apologize, but she cut him off with a searing kiss. Her hand closed in on him, fisting him snuggly.
"No," she promised. "I'm not." She began to stroke him, slowly at first, then gaining speed.
Rick groaned, burying his face in her shoulder. His hips moved on their own accord, straining towards her. "Need you," he gasped, brushing against her center. "Shit, Michonne-"
"Then take me," she challenged, pushing his underwear unceremoniously down his legs.
She guided him towards her, her hands sliding to his lower back. He pressed into the searing heat of her, forcing himself to go slow. She was molten perfection, her body trembling around his as she accepted him.
"Fuck," Michonne gasped, arching her back. "Rick, oh," she began to pant.
He'd never heard her curse before, but it sent a thrill through him. Rick pulled back, surging forward until their hips met. She tightened around him.
"More," she begged, tugging at his waist and ass. "Please, Rick."
He kissed her, speeding up, listening as she moaned in pleasure. "So damn perfect," the words were more than half a growl. He was drowning in her tight grip, pulling him deeper and deeper still.
Her lips brushed his, her gasps filling his ears. Michonne met him movement for movement, pushing into one another until the bed beneath them began to rock.
"So good," she moaned, hiking her legs higher for him. "You feel so good, Rick." She hissed, digging her nails in.
He levered himself over her, grasping one of her hands before pinning it to the mattress. She cried out her approval as he sped up, determined to drive her over the edge, to show her just how badly he wanted her to be his.
"Need you," he repeated, biting gently at her. "God, Michonne."
She babbled in agreement, kissing him wherever she could reach, her body getting hotter by the moment. Her hips surged up to meet his, stroke for stroke.
Rick nearly blacked out as pleasure flooded him, white-hot and all consuming. He fell forward, clutching at her. Beneath him, Michonne was shaking, tightening in waves, clinging to him. He held her, drawing her into his arms as he collapsed.
"Shit," he exhaled a moment later, still breathless.
She giggled, burying her face in the crook between his neck and shoulder. "Rick," she sighed, "I-"
The words did not come. She kissed him instead, holding his face between her hands, lavishing affection on him. Exhaustion fled his body at once, replaced again by the hunger he'd felt since first seeing her days ago.
When she rolled him over, Rick gratefully complied, smiling as she climbed on top of him.
"You're something else," he told her, groaning as she sank down, tossing her head back in pleasure.
Michonne smiled, bending over to kiss him again.
-I-l-l-l-l-
"I hate both of you," Glenn grimaced as he came bursting into the Hotel Hawthorne main kitchen, red in the face and decidedly angry.
"What happened?" Maggie asked, looking up from her place at the stove. With a flick of her hand, a fire ignited beneath a large pewter pot.
"What happened?" Glenn repeated, incredulous. "What happened is that Michonne and Rick were definitely in her bedroom."
From her place at the counter, Sasha's hand slipped while she was cutting ingredients. She hissed, cursing under her breath. Without saying anything, Maggie walked over, laying her fingers over the cut. It healed in seconds.
"Good for Michonne," Maggie observed lightly. "I told you Rick liked her."
"Well duh," Glenn deadpanned. "Sounds like he really likes her."
"It couldn't be that bad," Maggie argued. "I'm sure they shut the door."
"Sounded like they were trying to break the damn door down," Glenn went more crimson still. "And you can forget about thinking Rick isn't talkative." Glenn's eyes seemed to glass over.
"What do you mean?" Maggie asked, returning to the stove.
"I mean he doesn't shut up," Glenn squeaked.
"Like I said," Maggie shrugged. "Good for Michonne."
Glenn folded his arms over his chest. "Sure sounded like it."
From her place at the counter, Sasha flexed her palm, staring at the unblemished surface. "Did you get what we needed?" she asked in an oddly flat tone.
Glenn pushed a stack of things at her, "Grabbed everything I saw and ran. If you need something else, one of you ladies can go up their and get emotionally scarred."
Sasha rolled her eyes as Maggie burst into peals of laughter. "Go lay down, babe," Maggie suggested, kissing him as he passed. "I'll wake you when it's time for your watch."
"You sure?" he asked, looking at Sasha. The woman's back was to them both. The couple stared at one another, a silent conversation passing between them.
"Gives us some girl time," Maggie winked at Glenn, kissing him again. "I promise I'll come wake you up."
With a nod, Glenn started back towards the door. "I'm sleeping in Rick's room," he announced. "He damn sure isn't using it." He paused when he reached Sasha, staring at the woman.
"What?" she asked, arching a brow.
Quickly, he reached out, pulling her into a tight, albeit awkward, hug. "Nice to have you back," he mumbled into her curly hair.
Sasha reacted with surprise, but her expression softened. She hugged him back, "Missed you too, you dork." She patted him bracingly before releasing him. "Go get some sleep. Try not to think about our sister having sex upstairs."
Glenn paled. "I hate you," he repeated, all but running from the room.
Sasha chuckled to herself as he cleared it, silence settling over the kitchen. Behind her, the fire crackled away cheerfully. Maggie turned from it, walking towards the counter.
"Do you know what we need?" she asked, sifting through the pile.
"I've got an idea," Sasha answered. "If I'm right, it shouldn't be too hard. But if I'm wrong…" she huffed in frustration, going back to chopping ingredients with panache. "I wish we could double check."
"What about this?" Maggie raised a battered leather book, thumbing through its butter-soft pages.
Sasha glanced curiously at it. "I haven't seen that since I was a kid," she said, putting her knife down. "I thought it was lost."
"Michonne was probably using it," Maggie said, opening the spine. "This is where we found the spell to talk to your relatives." Her voice got quiet. "Glenn wanted to talk to your mama."
Sasha wiped her hands, coming over to look. "Don't blame him. I miss talking to her too." She sighed, running her hands over dried ink, tracing the curves and loops of her mother's handwriting. "Michonne's kept the book up," she noticed, flipping ahead. She swallowed. "She was always good at this."
Maggie considered this, drumming her fingers lightly across the counter. "From what I hear, you are too. Glenn says you taught him all the best curses for a fight."
Sasha snorted. "He was so small as a teenager, and kids are assholes. He needed backup."
"He told me you beat up half the baseball team for him once," Maggie smiled. "Sent them running home, crying."
Sasha paused. "He told you that?" she asked.
"Of course," Maggie shrugged. "You're his family."
Sasha said nothing, only continued flipping. "Haven't been that lately," she whispered.
Maggie shrugged. "I know you and Michonne talk all the time. Seems like sisters to me."
Sasha's eyes flickered up to the younger woman. "Yeah?" she questioned. "Did she tell you why I left? Did she tell you about Bob? About Abe?"
Maggie paled. "No," she shook her head. "Glenn wouldn't say anything either. I hear their names sometimes, and Mike's, but—" she broke off. "I wasn't there for that."
"Bob got hit by a truck," Sasha recounted factually. "Coming home from work one day. Abe died on the job. Military, but it wasn't war. Just a freak training accident, or so they told me," Sasha sniffled. "Mike, he was riding his motorcycle. Michonne could barely identify him after the crash. Her daddy had a heart attack when he was still a young man. My daddy got caught in a storm out on the highway, got swept into the river still in his truck." She looked up at Maggie. "Wonder what'll happen to Rick."
Maggie looked down, flushing pink. "If we kill the Governor, maybe nothing will happen," she ventured.
Sasha lifted her knife again, splitting a pomegranate neatly in quarters. "Michonne sure seems confident that will happen. Like she knows something we don't." Sasha's dark eyes found the book again, a question growing in them. Setting the fruit down, Sasha reached for its pages once more. She shut her eyes, mumbling to herself. The book leapt in her hands, wiggling for a moment, the pages turning. It landed towards the beginning.
"What's that?" Maggie asked, leaning forward.
Sasha opened her eyes, reading rapidly. The color drained from her face. "Did you know this?" she asked Maggie, shoving the book towards her.
Confused, Maggie glanced down, reading as well. "Oh no," she whispered.
Sasha's mind spun. She grasped the book again, flipping ahead. "She's going to try this," she announced. "She's going to try what our aunt did."
"But your aunt," Maggie gasped. "She died—"
"I won't let her," Sasha snapped the book shut smartly, looking up as though she could see through the ceiling. "She's not doing this."
"We can't stop her," Maggie grew flustered. "My magic isn't strong enough, and neither is Glenn's. And she's gotten more powerful lately."
Sasha huffed, tears gathering in her eyes. "We can't let her do this." She slammed her palms on the counter. "I'm going up there," she decided.
"Sasha," Maggie cautioned, reaching for her.
"No," Sasha shook her head. "I'm not losing anyone else. I'll talk to her. I'll make her-"
The tears spilled forward at once, a lifetime of sorrow welling over like a broken dam. Sasha cradled her face in her hands, shaking with the force of it. She fell heavily against the kitchen counter, her knees nearly going out from under her.
Maggie wasted no time, rushing forward to hold her. "It's going to be ok," she soothed. "It has to be ok."
Sasha trembled. "She's all I have left," she mumbled, gasping through her sobs. "She can't do this."
Maggie looked around, her eyes falling to the mess on the counter. "The potion," she said. She reached for the book, pulling it over. "The recipe for the original is in here somewhere. You're good at this. You can make the reverse."
Sasha wiped her face, "I haven't done magic in years."
"You're a Hawthorne," Maggie released her, leading her gently to the counter. "If anyone can do this, it's you." She pulled back to look at her. "You have to. For your sister. For your family, and all the people he's taken from you. If anyone deserves to die tomorrow, it's this asshole."
Her cursing startled Sasha. She looked at Maggie, impressed. "You're right," she said, straightening up. Carefully, she reached for the book again, opening it to its first pages. "I'll need help," she said.
"I'll wake up Glenn," Maggie nodded, determination on her face.
"Good," Sasha pushed her sleeves up, bending again to her work. "Let's kill this fucking bastard."
Maggie smiled. "I was hoping you'd say that."
-I-l-l-l-l-
It was difficult to breathe inside the steaming shower, but Michonne took great gasps anyway, attempting to stem the dizziness. Rick allowed her no such privilege, his lips covering hers again. Overhead, hot water poured over them, heating their already slick bodies, pooling between them. Michonne reached backwards, laying her palms flat along the wet tile walls, attempting to brace herself. Rick crowded her, his hard body pressed flush against her. She ached for him, as though they hadn't been joined repeatedly over the last few hours.
Rick's tongue flicked over her earlobe as his hands played over her waist and ass, kneading roughly. She moaned brokenly against his shoulder. Her legs felt weak. She reached for him, trailing her nails up and down his flushed skin.
"Rick," she laughed, sputtering beneath the showerhead. "We're supposed to be cleaning up," she reminded him.
With a devilish grin, he went to his knees in front of her, lifting her legs over his shoulders. Michonne let out a shout of surprise, scrambling to get a hold. His hands gripped her thighs, steadying her.
"Hold on, darling," he bit playfully at her, his grin widening when she moaned. "I ain't done with you." He leaned forward, his mouth finding her.
Michonne screamed again, her fingers tightening in his hair, her mind going blank. The shower began to shake around them, the water heating more still as she arched against him, losing control quickly.
"Shit," Rick yelped, pulling back with a hiss. He reached up quickly for the shower handle, turning the water off.
"Sorry," Michonne panted, embarrassed.
"Don't be," Rick was nonplussed. He lowered her to the ground, kissing her on the navel. He plugged the drain with his freehand, turning the spout on again. "Come here," he instructed, drawing her down again atop him.
She settled in his lap, the water swirling around them. Rick held her closely, groaning as she rolled her hips against him. She took him inside of her once more, moaning, kissing him with reckless abandon.
Rick banded his arms around her waist, guiding her motions, thrusting up into her until the water in the tub began to slosh again. Michonne giggled. "We're making a mess," she observed.
Rick blinked in confusion, his damp eyelashes brushing his cheeks. He didn't slow down, even as he groped for the faucet, stopping the flow of water.
"It's worth it," he told her, catching her face between his hands.
Michonne's heart tightened, tears pressing unbidden behind her eyes. She kissed him, memorizing the feel of his lips, his body against hers.
"It is," she agreed, falling over the edge with Rick one last time.