Wanting to do a bit of writing exercise - an edit of sorts. I don't own anything but leave a review below if you enjoyed it!
Michonne was not a conventional beauty. Conventional in the sense that she didn't look like any of the other female interns at the law firm she currently worked at. She wore her hair in locs, preferred high-end jumpsuits over the standard skirt and blouse, had a curvier bottom and boobs to match. Indeed, she was a different kind of woman that worked at Grimes, Dixon & Co. and many took notice.
While she didn't have many responsibilities - she was still a student after all - she was responsible for filing her boss' papers and scheduling his meetings. Why he didn't ask his secretary to do this, she didn't know, but if it meant a full time position in one of Atlanta's top law firms, she was game. She didn't actually ever speak to her boss either, but soon found out that all she needed to know was where her Dixon's office was, how his secretary, Sasha, liked her morning and afternoon tea—who he suspected was also his girlfriend or long time lover - where not to park her car in the outdoor parking lot, and memorize Shane Walsh's schedule to avoid being left alone with him. Anything more was irrelevant until she got the position.
That is, until this morning.
Michonne received an email from Mr. Dixon requesting her presence in the conference room. "Important" she mumbled as she read through it, not really understanding why she was being summoned for something important when Sasha was also here, but she shrugged and made her way to the 5th floor where the empty offices were.
a middled-aged woman, was sat next to her boss in the large room. She was a kind woman but had a cutthroat attitude. She scared the living shit out of the interns, but took a liking to Michonne and always spoke kindly of her. She wasn't preoccupied with looks per se, but anyone who paid attention could tell that she paid a pretty penny to look the way she did. And Michonne truly did because she too, liked to look good. It was part of her self-care.
Michonne smiled at the older lawyer and sat across from her.
"Michonne, we have a bit of a snafu." Deanna began before she could make sense of what was happening. She knew something was definitely off due to the lack of other attendees at this meeting. The only other person there was Daryl Dixon, her boss, and he remained neutral. "We have a particular case that we want you shadow, but not actually take part of. A discrimination case of sorts that is a bit... time sensitive."
"Alright," She said, following along perfectly. "Am I shadowing Mr. Dixon?"
"Not me." He said, his first words since I entered the room. "I don't take cases like this, I don't take too kindly to bigots." Michonne's eyes widened. "Not to mention that the person at the root of these allegations is an esteemed member of the community, and coaches little league."
"Is it Negan?" She blurted and covered her mouth. Everybody who was anybody knew Negan Morgan. He donated hundreds of thousands of dollars to Atlanta's children's hospital and built a new shelter for beaten and battered women, but he was also the biggest asshole and womanizer in town.
"Yes, but it's complicated." Deanna began. "We want you involved in this case because of your interest in civil rights and justice—a fresh pair of eyes is what we need and you're the best person for the job. And for experience—to get your feet wet while still keeping an arms-length approach to the situation."
"And if we win this case who knows." Dixon finished, a smirk on his face.
Michonne tried to push down her excitement but failed. A small smile appeared on her face, making her cheeks rise up. She tried to lower her gaze but Deanna and Daryl caught it.
After a few moments, she asked "who will I be working with?"
"Rick Grimes. You'll be moved closer to his office tomorrow and don't worry, I've let Sasha know that she will need to get her own tea until the case is done... maybe even longer." Michonne didn't recognize the man that was openly cracking jokes with her. This was the most he'd ever spoken to her but she now knew that he was paying real close attention.
"I don't mind doing that, it's a nice break, really." She said to be nice.
"Sasha was hired to assist me, she got legs, she can get her own things!" Deanna pinched the bridge of her nose and tried to hold back a laugh. "Word of advice, never hire your partner for anythin'."
Michonne's jaw dropped, Sasha was his wife—life partner—girlfriend?!
"Don't tell me you didn't know, Michonne. In any case, I'm getting rid of her because she's stressin' me out. She needs to be home and focus on making a human and not causing the death of another! Damn woman." He huffed.
Deanna sighed and rolled her eyes, obviously aware of their situation, but as Michonne had not been focusing on getting to know anyone in case she didn't get the position, she quietly sat there, watching her two bosses until she could take no more.
Michonne politely excused herself and rushed to the elevator. "What the hell is actually going on here?" She mumbled.
Michonne bounced into work. She was in an eager and excited mood. None of the other interns were working on actives cases despite them all being brilliant minds. She swiped her security card and trotted to the elevator. She pressed the number 3 button—her new floor—and headed straight to her new, although temporary digs. Rick Grimes was also one of the head honchos at the law firm. Unlike Daryl, he was friendlier and more approachable. She had spoken to him a few times and while she always thought he was attractive, he was married and she was with Mike... until he broke up with her and got custody of all our good friends.
"Knock knock!" She said as she tip toed into the room past the slightly open door. "I'm Michonne King, I'm going to be assisting you with Negan's case."
He immediately turned around as if startled at the sound of her voice. Rick Grimes' lean figure suggested a work out of about 4 days per week. His blue eyes were framed by a pair of dark brown glasses and his curly hair was tucked behind his ears. He was clean shaven and Michonne briefly wondered what it would be like to sit on his face. "Hi Michonne, it's nice to see you again." He walked up to her and shook her hand. "Let's get started."
Michonne took the desk on the far side of the office with the door facing her back while Rick chose the desk nearest to the door. Michonne found it weird that they were sharing an office, she thought that he would be using his own, but she shrugged it off. It would only be months later that she found out that he decided to stay in the same room because it gave him better access to her person.
She wasn't uncomfortable with the situation per se, but she still found it weird. She was used to fetching one thin or another so sitting down for more then thirty minutes was absolutely new to her. It wasn't until the fifth day that she felt her body relax and certain. It was obvious that Rick was not interested in her and even more so that Negan was sexually assaulting Asian women and using his power as a white man to keep them quiet and miserable.
"So what do we do now?" She asked once they knew that they had this in the bag?
Michonne started to notice things change by the third week. Every time she stood to refill her mug or swivelled her chair out of boredom, she noted that Rick would briefly look up and look at her. She brushed this off as her being annoying and distracting, but on Tuesday afternoon—when she decided to try some spicy Thai food from a new place around the corner—something changed. She had come back the building to find Rick already there at his desk, leaning over his notes from the previous day. She had dropped her bag and whole body into the office chair, unbuttoned one of her blouse buttons, and asked him how his lunch was.
"It was alright. I just munched on a sandwich from home. Nothing special." He answered without looking up.
"That's good." She murmured, wondering why he was refusing to look at her. Weirdo, she thought.
She sighed loudly, as if demanding his attention, and grumbled in frustration when he gave her none. Michonne got up and walked to the window where she could better see the window cleaners perched on a neighbouring building. Her eyesight was not exactly 20/20, especially to spy on some window cleaners across the street, so she stuck her face to the glass like a child, oblivious to the fact that she was sharing an office with a very attentive man. Rick was staring at her intently and he couldn't pull away. He was fucked if she caught him staring at her plump ass, but he also didn't give a damn.
Michonne moved away from the glass but remained rooted at the spot, she could feel him staring at her. She glanced to her left and their eyes met in the reflection of the glass. He was fucked.
She re-buttoned her shirt and cleared her throat. She wasn't getting fired for this.
"Rick, how are those financial records going?" She asked to clear the air.
"Good. They're good. What about your files?" He was being bold and they both knew it.
"Why did you ask me to shadow you?" She asked, ignoring his question.
"I didn't. Daryl did."
"Is that so?" She hummed and sauntered over to her desk and leaned against it. He watched her every move. "How's your wife?" She smirked and he chuckled. She was going to get him in trouble.
"Things have been... rocky lately." His face was heavy with stress lines that immediately appeared once the topic arose. He stood and walked around to the front of his desk.
"Oh." She replied, and went no further.
"We have had some issues regarding her mental health. It's an ongoing problem that she refuses to acknowledge. He leaned his body on his arms and had them braced behind him on the desk like a lecturer speaking to a class.
"I'm sorry to hear that," She offered. "Hopefully this case will help to take your mind off of things."
His gaze quickly dropped to her chest and back to her face where it rested on her eyes. She finally had his attention, but she didn't know if she wanted to go any further after his morose confession.
"Have dinner with me tonight." He said.
The pair stood in the parking lot of the restaurant. They had enjoyed a nice dinner in a busy restaurant, but Rick could tell that Michonne was ready to call it quits for the evening.
"Let me drive you home" He said. He had been very attentive and gentlemanly throughout dinner. Rick had even grabbed the check and insisted to pay when she offered to pay half.
"No no no! You already paid for her dinner and drinks. If I didn't know better, I'd start thinking this is a date!" She chuckled despite herself. He was a very attractive man, but he was also 15 years her senior.
"So what if it was?" He playfully asked while casually leaning against the trunk of his car. "Would you ever go out with a guy like me?" She figured she would play along- after all, they had just spent the entire day together.
"I would, but I'm not into married guys." She coyly responded.
"I see." He said. "So you don't see me as some creepy old man then?" He added, smiling. Michonne laughed. "Well that's good to know!" After a pregnant pause he removed his hands from his pockets. "Come on, I'll get you home."
Michonne really should have told him no and immediately called for a cab, but she knew that he was not willing to let that happen. She playfully rolled her eyes and agreed. She got in the passenger seat and picked a radio station that had a "talk radio" format, so that we could avoid making conversation. Something was happening here and she didn't want to explore it any further. How you get them is how you lose them, she thought.
"I don't know where you live, Michonne." He chuckled, after a few minutes of aimless driving. He knew what she was doing but he was allowing her to pick the pace.
"Oh right!" She chuckled, embarrassed and turned off the radio. She told him directions back to the highway and planned her quick escape.
When they got to her apartment complex, he insisted on opening the door for her and walking her to the entrance. This was honestly the worst time for him to be a gentleman.
"Thank you for dinner, I had a lovely time." She said.
"Good, I'm glad." He responded.
The two stood at the front of the lobby door like a pair of teenagers before Rick up again. "I should probably get going you know... I'm married and all." They laughed.
There was another brief pause that Michonne would later describe as "romantic comedy-like." It was so ridiculous, he was married. She needed to get inside.
"Have a good night, Rick. I'll see you tomorrow." Michonne went to give him a friendly, business-like hug but found herself flush against his torso. Big mistake. She pulled her head back and looked into his eyes, standing face to face with him. His grip did not waver and her heart raced. her eyes fluttered closed, and when he leaned in for a kiss, she did not stop it.
She felt her knees buck beneath me. As our forbidden kiss deepened, Rick slipped his tongue past her lips and stole his way into a heavy-tongued kiss.
Michonne pulled away after what seemed like hours and ran into her building. She knew it was pathetic, but what they were doing was worse.
The next few days at work were a blur of update meetings with her boss, and excuses to go off-site for Sasha, who was still employed at the company. Truth is, Michonne couldn't help but play hard to get—she wasn't in the business of breaking up families. Luckily she remembered that he said he would return home during the weekend, so she had three days to really think about what she was doing starting Friday at 4:30pm.
Michonne was home alone and half way into a bottle of a Malbec. She had treated her toes to a nice Epson salt soak right after work and was currently painting her toenails to a new shade of pink. She loved pink.
Despite trying to keep herself occupied and spending the rest of the week avoiding him like a parking ticket, she was stressing over Rick. She couldn't deny their chemistry and the intense desire she had for him whenever he was near. She'd never dated an older man before, all her ex-boyfriends tended to be her age and single. Was he into her or was he just an excellent actor?
She sighed and began flipping through the romantic comedy section of Netflix. Of course she'd be here, she was currently living in one. Just as she was about to make herself comfortable (or sulk for the rest of the evening) her cellphone rang.
"Who the hell?" She cussed, cancelling the call. Her mother was notorious for calling multiple times a day and, calling back when she would remember a story she forgot to mention in her previous phone call.
She nestled back into her seat when it rang and kept ringing. This wasn't her like her mom. She picked up her phone to have a proper look at her ID screen. It read: LOBBY.
"Hello?" She picked up.
"Michonne, it's Rick. Can I come up?" Her body froze. What was he doing here? Why was he here? Michonne was internally freaking out, she completely forgot that he was still waiting for an answer. "Michonne?" Rick's crackled voice asked again.
It was as if her brain lost cognitive functioning for a minute or two, because instead of getting acceptable clothing on over top her long t-shirt and panties, she just pressed the number 9 button and continued to stare at her phone. By the time she realised what she had done, it was much too late to pretend as if she wasn't home. She opened the door and prayed that her toes were dry for whatever was to come. She really did not want to do them again.
Rick stood a foot from her doorway with a smile on his face and his eyes beaming sunshine. "Hey!"
"Hi!" She greeted in a tone that sounded way too eager for her usual persona. "I thought you were home for the weekend?"
"I was. I just came back into town to pick up some parts of the file I forgot at the office. Can I come in?" He responded in an equally as eager.
"Sorry how rude of me—come in." She moved to let him in and closed the door behind him. "Have a seat; I just need to throw on some clothes. I was watching a movie." She didn't know why she felt the need to explain this to him. This was her home after all. She watched as he took in her place, admiring the art on her walls and the giant cat scratcher.
"I didn't know you had a cat."
"I don't, my mom does and she goes everywhere with him." She admitted. "Anyway, make yourself at home, I'll be right back." She speed walked to her bedroom and closed the door. In a frenzy she put on a pair of jeans, the cleanest bra she could find, and a t-shirt. She left her hair out since it was still drying and applied some chapstick to complete the look.
When she emerged from her bedroom, Rick was sitting on her sofa with one leg planted on the floor, and the other draped across the seats. He was browsing through Netflix.
"So..." She began by sitting on the far end of the sofa while he sat up and planted his second leg on the floor. "You were at the office?"
"Yes, I got home Friday night and I was doing a lot of thinking." He said, turning to face her.
"Thinking about what?" She carefully asked, not wanting to sounds like a lovestruck teenager.
He took his time to respond by stealing a sip of her half consumed glass of wine that sat on her coffee table. In the week that she had been avoiding him, he had forgone shaving—the beard that he was now sporting seemed becoming. She liked him better this way. Hell, she even liked that it showed how much older he was.
"I was thinking about this tough case we're working on." He smiled warmly, as if that was not the answer he was initially going to give.
Michonne took a sip from her wine glass. The same wine he had drank out of. "So you went back to the office—which is on the other side of the city by the way—and thought so hard about the case that you ended up at my place? Is that about right?"
Rick's smile broadened. The secret he held now had value. He knew that she was onto him. She had been avoiding her and he wanted to know why. He took the glass and allowed his hand to brush hers. "That sounds about right."
They took a few more sips of the wine and made small talk about work until the conversation returned to the reason he was across town at her apartment instead of his home.
"Are things really that bad at home with you and your wife? Is that why you're here?" She finally asked, not being able to hold it in any longer.
Rick exhaled deeply. "She's not doing well... mentally. She's always had mental health issues, but since the kids went off to school she's been getting worse. I don't think we've even had sex in the last several months, but the last time we did it was just a confirmation that she isn't the same person I married."
"Oh. I'm sorry." Was he here strictly to fuck? She wondered.
"It's fine, it happens. Had I paid more attention... Anyway the truth is that we've been separated in everything but name and finances for years now. I can't divorce her because it might trigger her. She also has a nurse with her at all times and I'm lonely so..." He shrugged as if it was no big deal.
"Then, I guess the next question would be whether or not you are looking for a mistress? I mean, that must be why you're here."
"I've never done this sort of thing before. It's just that when I met you, I knew I couldn't let the opportunity pass to get to know you." Michonne abruptly stood up and walked towards the kitchen. She began cleaning the wine glass to busy herself. Unfortunately, her apartment was an open concept which meant that he would only need to walk a few steps to trap her.
Michonne was drying the glassware when she felt him behind her.
"I don't want you to do anything you don't want to do." He whispered. "But I'd love to see you again." She turned to face him and found herself wedged between his imposing six foot something figure and the counter. "To hold you... touch you..." He continued as he stroked her cheek. Michonne couldn't keep her eyes away from him.
"To do with you as a I please." He barely finished his sentence before he gently planting a kiss on her lips and gripping her waist as he pushed his weight against hers. Michonne moaned and wrapped her arms around his shoulders. His assertiveness made her knees weak which was perfect because it made it easier for Rick to lift Michonne's thick, five foot seven body onto the sofa.
Michonne's mind could barely keep up. Rick had her pinned to the sofa and he was quickly making himself acquainted with her breasts and lips. When he had had enough, he pulled her shirt up to her neck and pulled her bra down to uncover her dark nipples. He made his way down her body, tugging and sucking on everything he could. Michonne felt overwhelmed by how quickly things were going and began to whisper for him to slow down. She must have said it two or three times, but Rick never slowed. Instead, he unzipped her pants and made his way down her navel.
"No panties?" He smirked at an out of breath Michonne.
"Fuck you." She breathed.
"You first." Rick didn't bother pulling her pants down, he was just getting started. Michonne rolled her hips, wanting him to touch her. Rick obliged by plunging two thick fingers inside of her.
"Oh fuck!" She gasped. Her magic wand was no match to her boss' fingers—they were magical. Michonne was trying not to cum but she didn't know how much longer she could hold off.
"Cum for me, cum for me." He whispered in her face. He was chanting it like a mantra, he needed this as much as she did.
Michonne came and Rick roughly kissed her to prevent her from screaming out. She was on the verge of tears, she couldn't remember the last time she came so hard. Rick pulled his fingers from her wet pussy and licked his lips. Michonne was both aroused and ashamed that her body reacted in such a way.
"God." She sighed. The walls of her nether regions were sore and swollen from his digital assault as he bruised her soft lips with kisses.
"You're welcome." He chuckled and stood up. He began removing his clothing and once her body had calmed down from her climax, he proceeded to remove the remainder of hers as well. "As much as I'd love to fuck you on this couch, I'm a gentleman."
Michonne rolled her eyes and lazily got up. She walked up to him and placed a gentle kiss on his lips before leading him to her bedroom.
The two spent the rest of the evening having sex, exploring each others bodies, and talking. By 2am, Michonne was spent and wanted to go to bed.
"This was fun." She said, staring at the ceiling. They had both ended up on their backs by the end.
"Are you kicking me out?" He said, laughing lightly.
"No... not yet." She paused. "What happens now, am I your mistress? What about my job?"
"No. You're too good for to be second. As for your internship... you may need to be re-assigned." Michonne sat up to stare at him. "I'm kidding!" He laughed at her seriousness. Michonne grabbed the pillow that she was lying on and hit him with it.
"That's not funny!"
"It's a little bit funny, you have to admit."
"Whatever." She crossed her arms. "No one can know about this." She enforced.
It was Rick's turn to sit up. He wrapped his arms around her and kissed her shoulder. "At least not at first, right?" He asked.
"No, wait. What do you mean?" She questioned. No one could know that she was fucking her boss. "People can't know I'm fucking my boss!"
"Semantics." Rick had a devious smile on his face. "You know what I think, princess? I think that I'd like to spend the rest of the weekend inside of you."