When Rick returned from the interview, Alexandria had already turned to a buzzing hive. The word that new people had arrived last night must have spread fast around the town because Amanda saw them circling around their houses, darting them curious looks.
Under the close scrutiny, Amanda passed Judith to Carl as they were still on the porch. The last thing she needed right now that people assumed her as the mommy, inadvertently creating more drama between her, Carl, and Rick.
She needed to put some distance between them. Standing by the railings, she bowed her head, looking at the flowers in the yard. She really wished they could be done with these interviews.
All this waiting was making her feel like she was going to explode with stress. She raised her head and checked the track. It was empty now. Amanda wondered if she could go out herself and run, too, but running in the midst of these people while they kept circling around them like they were the new entertainment of the town would only put her more under the spotlight.
Amanda was opting to turn and walk inside, safely away from the curious looks just as she noticed it. The blonde woman on the track - she was coming up on the right side. In her hands there was a glass casserole dish. Inside the glass, Amanda could see a sort of cake if she squinted. The young woman had changed clothes, too. Now she was wearing skinny jeans over a loose blouse under a tank top, one side of her shoulder still bare. When she got closer on the sidewalk, Amanda saw her earrings and her necklace and recognized the enclosed C shapes, the logo of Chanel. Of course.
She made a little scoff, then realized the woman was actually en route to their house. Amanda stared as the rich girl walked up their driveway. Noticing her stare, their new neighbor threw her a big smile.
"Hiii!" All heads turned at her as her energetic voice echoed over them. Still smiling, not taken aback with their stumped looks, the young woman quickly stepped up to the porch and stood on the last step.
"I saw Aaron this morning. He told me about you guys. Thought I'd drop by and say hi—" She smiled again as they all kept staring at her. The woman looked at them, sensing the tense moment, and raised her hands. "Brought you cake!"
They still all stared… "Uh—"
Regaining her motor functions, Amanda moved and took the glass casserole dish. Inside she saw a cake like…tiramisu. She stared—stared—stared— "Tiramisu?"
"I wish we had mascarpone, but well, better than nothing, right?" she answered nonchalantly as Amanda snapped her head up to look at her again.
She must be a few years younger than Amanda, around Joan's age, and she looked even more beautiful close up. Amanda wouldn't have been surprised if she was some sort of model or something before the turn.
"Baked it last night," she continued. "Used powdered milk, sugar, and honey, but our coffee is still good." Her tone was still having that same nonchalant timbre, as if she really didn't have a single care in the world, and all things considered, she didn't look like she did.
A part of Amanda hated it, hated how the woman sounded, how she looked. It reminded Amanda of Beth when she'd come first in the prison, and that reminded her of how much she'd screwed up. Beth didn't look like this now. In fact, Beth was glaring at the woman now.
Amanda decided to be nice. "Thank you. It—it's been a while since we ate a dessert."
"I imagine—" the woman replied, a compassionate expression crossing over her face. "They say it's bad outside. It must be awful for you staying out there."
They all stared at her again. "Ya never been out?" Daryl was the one who spoke out this time.
"Deanna doesn't want us to go out. I was here when the virus started. Daddy wanted us to stay. They were in the capital." She sighed. "They were going to come, but—I don't know. Perhaps one day—" She gulped as they elapsed into another brief silence.
"But I forgot my manners! I'm Beatrice Reese." She pointed at the house across them towards the pond, one of the bigger houses uphill. Somehow Amanda wasn't surprised, either. "I live there with my little sister." She turned to Carl and Beth. "You two must be around her age. I'll send her by so she can take you for a tour," she told the teenagers. Then her eyes caught Judith, who was still in Carl's arms.
"What a sweetling!" she cried out. "It's been ages since I saw a baby." She looked at Carl. "Can I hold her?"
"Um—" the teenager made an uncertain sound while Rick appeared in the driveway. Too taken with the scene Beatrice had created, Amanda hadn't realized it.
Noticing Beatrice, Rick halted before the steps, looking at her. Then something Amanda wouldn't have guessed even if she tried happened. Beatrice turned to Rick and smiled one of those big smiles.
"Hi, Rick—" she chirped as Amanda—as they all stared. "How was the interview?"
Something coiled in her stomach as Amanda frowned. "You know each other?" she asked briskly.
Her bristling tone seemed like it was lost on the woman. Beatrice smiled, cutting a look over to Amanda. "Had a quick chat this morning when Aaron brought him to Deanna. Otherwise—" She turned to Rick again, and her lips twitched up an inch further, turning almost…flirtatious before she added, "That beard I wouldn't forget."
"Yeah. It's a very unforgettable sight—" Amanda muttered lowly, spinning on her heel to go inside. She had other stuff to do than watching women flirt with him. He'd been away like what? An hour? And he'd found the town's possibly most beautiful woman to make acquaintance with.
She scoffed, crossing the hall for the kitchen. She set the glass casserole dish on the island's top and eyed the dessert. She wondered if Rick would mind if she gave some to Judith. Ever the suspicious one, he hadn't wanted her feeding Judith with Aaron's apple marmalade before without a trial.
Strong, toned arms and callous hands wrapped around her waist as Amanda weighted the idea. She didn't react as she smelled him, sensing him behind her as if her body knew it was him even before her brain registered it.
Rick softly laughed in her ear. "You act very catty when you get jealous."
"I'm not jealous."
"Hmm mm."
"I'm not jealous of that ridiculous ditzy blonde!"
"Mean, Amanda—" He chuckled out in her ear again lowly. "Very mean."
His lips trailed up over her neck towards the spot that made her shiver. Consequently, she did. "Rick—" she breathed out as his tongue flicked around under ear.
"Rick—" She almost moaned as he pressed her belly on the island fully as Amanda gripped the countertop's edge. The sounds from the living room were in her ear as the handle of the first drawer poked into her pelvis. There was something else that poked into her back, as well, something very hard. "Rick—"
A cool breeze hit her as Rick took a few steps backwards. Turning over, Amanda saw him passing a hand over his face before he pinched the bridge of his nose, rubbing it between his fingers tiredly. "Amanda, we—we need to talk."
She bobbed her head in a half nod. There was no escape from it anymore. They couldn't go on like this. "Yeah. After we're done with interviews."
Giving her a look, raising his head, Rick nodded, too. "How did it go?" Amanda asked a few seconds later. "How was she?"
"Like how we expected," Rick replied. "Optimistic, but not stupid. Her words. I think I can agree," he continued. "She knows what we're dealing with, and she knows they need help. There are people here who have never saw the outside."
"I know—" Amanda said, frowning, remembering what the blonde woman had said. "Beatrice said Deanna doesn't want them to go out."
Rick nodded. "Beatrice's father used to own this place—"
"What?!"
Rick shook his head. "Yeah. But that's not the thing. Aaron mentioned she's got a priority list or something. I don't know much. Deanna hasn't mentioned it yet. But she isn't really stupid. Perhaps a bit…naïve." He paused. "Do you remember what Aaron told us when you asked him the questions?" Rick inquired.
Her eyes turning a bit more suspicious, Amanda nodded. Aaron had admitted killing in self-defense because they didn't understand what kind of a place Alexandria was.
"I think I know the whole story now," Rick went on. "They had those men. They started being a problem for her, started bothering women. Deanna sent them away. They set them up, then Aaron, Eric and her son took them out."
"That doesn't sound too bad," Amanda said at last after a pause. In fact, she wished she would've done the same with Gorman and his pals a long time ago, too.
"Yeah—" Rick agreed, resting himself against the wall, then stated, "She mostly wants a sheriff to deal with stuff like this."
The statement made her ponder on it for a few seconds. "Sounds…reasonable—" She paused. "But do you think she might have other problems as well?"
Rick gave a shrug. "Probably—" he said. "Either way, these people need a wakeup call."
Amanda imitated his shrug, her eyes going towards the dessert on the countertop.
"I told her instead of sending them into exile, she just should've killed the men and been done with it—" Rick suddenly spoke again, his eyes finding hers.
She frowned. "Sending them to exile out there is as good as killing them, Rick," she said. "You know that."
But Rick shook his head. "It's not as certain as killing them, though. She shouldn't have taken the risk."
For a second, Amanda couldn't be certain if he was talking about himself and that sonofabitch that took what they had, ruined them, killed them - or Deanna. Amanda shook her head and gave him the only truthful answer she could find in herself at the moment. "Maybe."
It was hard to know these days. Sometimes Amanda became really suspicious Rick would've killed Father Gabriel that night if she didn't interfere. Sometimes she didn't know. I warned him.
She remembered the holy man's regret, and Rick's words; doesn't look like anything to me. No. It didn't look like anything to her, either. But Amanda still didn't want to see any more death. She was sick of death.
She let out a deep sigh. "Deanna—" she spoke, raising her eyes at Rick again. "Is she waiting for someone?"
"I don't know. She didn't mention anything."
Amanda nodded and started walking out. "Where are you going?" Rick called out to her.
"To have a talk with her—" she yelled back as she walked on.
It was about time. She'd dawdled enough.
# # #
Five minutes later, Amanda was in front of Deanna Monroe's house. It didn't take long to figure out which house was hers. She followed the direction Beatrice had shown and Rick had tracked.
She rang the doorbell in front of the smaller porch and waited until the door was opened by a man around her age. Amanda vaguely remembered him from last night. It wasn't the one who had been on gate duty when they had arrived, but his older brother, who had come out to meet them with Deanna. The one who had stationed men to monitor them last night. Adam or Aiden or something like that.
The dark-haired man eyed her critically at the door, his brows pinched. "I thought Mother hasn't asked for anyone else yet," he remarked slowly, twisting aside to look inside as if he was listening to something. "She's still with Denise."
Amanda shrugged. "Yeah. But I thought I might…hasten the pace a bit."
Moreover, she would like to take a shower, change her clothes, and think. Just think. There was so much stuff she had to think about. The man gave her another look, and a half smirk jerked his lips upward. "Like it fast, huh?" he asked, adding a leer in the words to make sure his blatant innuendo didn't go unnoticed.
As if it was needed!
What was wrong with these people? Why they couldn't help themselves but flirt with everything walking on two legs, Amanda had no idea. Perhaps they were really bored and they—with their dirty, smelly clothes, unkempt appearances, savage looks really brought new entertainment for them.
A scowl setting in her features, Amanda stared at the man blatantly. He was a handsome man. In a way, he was even more handsome than Rick; much younger, tidier, cleaner, with less…beard, but Amanda wasn't really in the mood to play.
"Would you mind asking her if she'd be available to accept me now?" she asked as kindly as possible, forcing her tone and her face neutral. "I really would like this thing to be done so I can clean myself up a bit."
That made the man laugh silently. "Yeah. I bet." He pulled back from the door an inch. "Come on in then. I'll ask her."
Amanda waited inside in front of the door as he climbed the stairs quickly and vanished. From upstairs, she could hear a distinctive voice and a few minutes later, the oldest Monroe brother swept down the stairs, almost jumping from the last one.
He had that buzzing energy oozing out of him, much like Beatrice, only much more filled with testosterone. He also seemed to have some sort of training in his movements, Amanda read it quickly. She wondered if he ever served. Sometimes politicians' children served in the military to make good publicity. She wouldn't be surprised to hear it.
"Mother says she'll be joining you in a few minutes," he informed her, starting walking in the corridor. "I was going to make myself coffee. You're welcome to join me until she comes if you want—" he continued as Amanda followed him. Their house seemed a lot bigger than the ones they were settled into, and Amanda wondered how many bedrooms they had. Wondered if it would be too much to ask for bigger houses as soon as they were brought in.
"If you don't—" Monroe continued. "You can wait for her in the living room, too."
"Tea would be nice, actually—" Amanda replied, deciding it wouldn't hurt to make a little poking around, getting her bearings. "It's been ages since I had some."
He stopped short of crossing the kitchen's threshold. "We must've sent you food—" He shook his head. "I thought Mother already did."
"I don't know. Maybe she did—" she countered. "I was upstairs—" She stopped not wanting to say she was dealing with Judith. "Had stuff. Or someone came by after I left." She cleared her throat. "It was a bit of a mad day." She paused again for a second. "Got a cake, though."
Monroe laughed at that, shaking his head. "Let me guess. Beatrice, right?" Holding back a frown, Amanda gave him a searching look. "Bee loves to make new friends," the man remarked, his voice laden with not a quite hidden sarcasm. "And she was getting…bored."
He held his hand up, still standing at the kitchen's door. "Aiden Monroe."
Amanda took the offered hand and gave it a quick, but firm, shake, deciding to shrug off the comment about the rich blonde. "Amanda Shepherd."
His eyes narrowed as Monroe studied her closely. "Would you be that female officer Aaron mentioned by any chance?" he asked as he turned to walk towards the kitchen island.
"Of the Atlanta Police Department," Amanda confirmed while he turned on the kettle.
Monroe gestured toward a sleek metal bar stool at the island as he took cups from a cabinet. Above their heads, there was a hanging rack that was full of wine glasses under the spotlights. It made her feel like she was in a sort of bar.
She settled on the stool as Monroe slid a white mug in front of her. "Do you have a preference?" he asked, opening a drawer under the island and started rummaging through it. "We got green tea, Earl Grey, a winter mix with cinnamon—"
Amanda cut him off. "Black is enough."
"Black it is."
When the kettle started whistling, Monroe stopped it and poured hot water in her mug. "I was ROTC—" the man suddenly stated.
Her eyes cut over to the man, and the question popped out of her mouth. "Still at college?" He was perhaps a decade younger than Rick, around her age.
Monroe let out a laugh. "Yeah—" he replied with a shrug. "I was a bit of a trouble-maker. I was first studying Architecture like Dad at Georgetown University, then switched to Business School, but Mother wanted me to take ROTC program too."
By wanting, Amanda guessed he meant forcing it on him. Aiden Monroe looked like he'd been suffering from Peter Pan syndrome, still at college in his late twenties. Amanda didn't say anything, just took a sip from her tea. Even the notion of having tea with a guy was kind of bizarre. She couldn't believe it was happening, but the hot burning taste over her tongue was unmistakably real.
The man studied her carefully once more before he stated, "I run one of the supply teams. Perhaps Mother will put you on our team." He laughed. "God knows we need a lady's touch among us."
Amanda gave him a look but didn't correct that by ranks she really couldn't be placed under his leadership as she had been a fully badged police officer for almost a decade now.
"Might be—" she uttered disinterestedly. She wasn't sure if she wanted to be on a supply team. She wasn't still sure what she wanted to be.
"Good Lord, you look very different in daylight than last night—" he bellowed all of sudden, looking at her closely again. "Couldn't really recognize you. There was a baby with you, right?"
Her back straightened. Amanda took another sip from the tea. "Yes."
"I heard it's the sheriff's—" Aiden Monroe continued.
"Her name is Judith."
"Pretty name—" he remarked offhandedly. "Have you been with them since the beginning?"
"Aiden—" A gentle woman's voice called out behind their back. "The last time I checked, I was the one who was making the interviews."
Amanda twisted aside and saw Deanna Monroe in classic pants and a tweed jacket standing at the kitchen door with a smile plastered on her face. "Just making small talk, Mother."
"Uh huh—" the old woman breathed, and her eyes turned to Amanda. "And you must be—"
"Officer Amanda Shepherd—" Amanda introduced herself again.
"Believe me I was just trying to decide if I might call the sergeant or you next—" the leader of the town remarked with a small, kind smile. "You saved me from trouble." She motioned with her head. "Well then, let's start. Come."
Amanda put the mug down on the counter and stood up. "Thanks for the tea," she told Monroe.
"Anytime." Amanda could swear there was a flirtatious edge to the smile he gave her with the reply. She wrote it off, but before she was out of the room, he called out to her.
"Hey, wanna me to fix you something…harder later?" Monroe asked, and the smile he gave her this time was definitely flirting. "Mother still has a good stash."
Amanda stared at the man like a deer caught in headlights. "Uh—we shouldn't drink," she said at last.
Rick wouldn't like it.
And Rick wouldn't like her drinking with another guy, would he?
The offer was almost tempting, especially after their last episode, but she forced it out of her mind. She trotted after Deanna and saw another young woman inside the room, waiting. She thought it must be the psychologist Aaron had mentioned. Rick hadn't said anything about it, but then again, they hadn't talked much.
"This is Denise. She's our psychologist," Deanna confirmed what Amanda thought and pointed at the camera behind the couch. "Do you mind if we film it?" she asked.
Amanda narrowed her eyes. So they also filmed the interviews? Watched them afterward, analyzing and measuring their reactions and answers - them. She felt like she was getting interviewed by Internal Affairs before they started their dissection.
Her time after she'd killed the drug dealer hadn't been easy. IA had tried to corner her with questions, trying to dig out if she had liaisons with the drug traffickers, why she was at that dark alley alone, what she was doing there; questions Amanda couldn't fully answer to their satisfaction.
It'd taken Dawn pressing Captain Hanson to get them back off her case, and Amanda had always hated interviews since her childhood. Forcefully, Amanda pressed down the memories trying to resurface. It was the last thing she needed to remember now.
She flicked a look at the camera and wondered how she looked. Quite like shit, she was certain. She had a man that had made a pass on her, but she wasn't actually sure if it was genuine, or Monroe was just…testing waters, too. She hadn't missed how the man brought the topic to Rick and Judith.
Aaron must've made a few comments about them. She'd stepped into this town in the middle of the night with Judith sleeping in her arms. They still didn't act like a real couple, especially in public, but Rick and she weren't exactly out of each other's hair, either, so to speak. Maggie had even confessed that they'd taken bets in the prison when they would do it.
The notion, though, made her even more rattled. These people knowing them, talking about them, just like Aiden Monroe had tried. Would Rick be bothered by it? He'd said he had nothing to hide when Abraham and his people joined them, even took her hand walking into the cabin, but Rick was a very, very private person.
And so was she.
Besides, she had a good guess how their…relationship would be read from outside; Rick fucking his subordinate as a stress-relief, and Amanda fucking her way through the ranks, so to speak. God. She so didn't need to deal with this.
She sat on the large armchair in front of the couch, and moved her eyes around the room, forcing her mind away from her last thought. Her attention piqued with the massive library. She wondered if she could borrow some books. She liked mystery novels. She'd seen Rick reading a couple of times in the prison in his spare time, but she had no idea what kind of books he preferred. Before she could stop herself, the thought brought up another realization, too. She had no idea what Rick enjoyed doing to pass time, as scary as it was having spare time now in their lives.
They'd kept themselves so far apart from each other in the prison, carefully arranging themselves not to spend time together, that even mundane daily life things were a mystery for her. The only daily common thing they'd shared was their morning patrols. She didn't even know if he liked sugar in his coffee or preferred tea over coffee.
Her moment of another reality strike soured her mood even further as Deanna Monroe looked at her with that smile. "So, Amanda Shepherd—" the woman started. "Are you from the Atlanta Police Department?"
She nodded. "Yes."
"Rank?"
Amanda answered quickly, leaving off the farce of her unofficial promotion. "Patrol officer."
Deanna nodded. "I see—" She paused then the old woman gave her a searching look. "So, you weren't with them from the beginning."
Amanda sensed an alarm bell alert her with the statement, especially with the way the woman had phrased it. She shook her head. She didn't have any reason to lie.
"No. I was in Atlanta until—" She quickly made a math how long exactly had passed since she met Rick in the woods. Something she still couldn't keep track of. She recalled in a flash the unhesitant, certain answer Rick had given to her when she'd asked him how long she'd been in the prison before the first time they had to have one of their…talks, but suppressed the moment, focusing on doing the math instead. "Around four months ago, give or take—" she said after a brief pause.
"You're quite a new member of the team then," Deanna said, her look still searching.
She made a sound. "Time is relative."
Deanna laughed. "That's also correct—" she remarked. "How did you end up with them?"
"It's a long story."
Deanna waved a hand at the camera. "I've got spare tapes."
"I got lost in the woods one day on a supply run with my colleagues, somewhere around where they were set up in their compound. I met Rick in the woods. I was a bit wounded, so he brought me in."
There was that expression on the woman's face now as if she was listening to a love story! Amanda felt a blush rising to her cheeks and tried to calm down her feelings. "Then you stayed with them?" she probed further.
"Eventually."
Deanna's clear blue eyes found hers. "You seem very close—"
Amanda read all the hidden meanings in it. She looked away. "We've been through a lot together."
"Aaron said you wanted to come," Deanna stated after a brief pause.
Amanda remembered her yelling in the barn. She knew she shouldn't have done it. She knew. "Yeah—" she answered, putting a deliberate disinterest in her voice. "We need a place."
"Rick doesn't look like he's keen on the idea—" the old woman commented further. "He doesn't trust us."
"Rick isn't a very trusting person," she forced herself to reply absently, twisting her head away from the woman again towards the window. This was just what she'd been expecting; talks ending up coming to Rick, Rick, Rick…
"He told me today I shouldn't let you in," Deanna remarked. "Should keep our gates close."
"Well, that's the thing with Rick—" Amanda sighed deeply, turning back to the woman. "You'll see."
"See what?"
"Most of the time, Rick is right even when he's wrong." She paused. "I know it's very annoying. I'm still trying to make my peace with it, too," she confessed after a beat.
"Amanda—" Deanna called out to her, moving an inch over the couch. "Are you together with him?" she asked openly. "Aaron wasn't sure of it."
This time she turned her attention on the woman fully, staring coldly. "It's none of your business."
"Funny it's the same thing Rick said when Denise asked him if there's a relationship he wants to specify for his file."
"His file?" Amanda asked, ignoring the other part.
"Yes, we file a dossier for each candidate for basic information," the old woman gestured at the psychologist whom Amanda had been ignoring through the whole interview. After each session with Internal Affairs, she was also sent to the force's psychiatrist until she was cleared off for active duty again. Those sessions—well, they were even worse than the IA interviews. There were notes in front of the woman, and Amanda hated to think what those would be about.
"Birth date, place of birth, residency before the turn, your blood type, relatives," Deanna continued. "You see, you say it isn't our business, but it actually is. I was thinking of making you his partner as you both served for justice and order. But I need to be sure you'll play along nicely if I did."
With the cat out of the bag, Amanda knew she was cornered. "We're together," she admitted. "We can't be partners. We have…uh-stuff to work out," she went on, and holding back a sigh, spilled the beans. "It happened when we were out. Better that you keep us apart work-wise."
They couldn't take the risk. She didn't want to fuck up, endanger anyone just because Rick and she couldn't play along nicely, as Deanna had phrased it.
The old woman nodded as if she came to the same conclusion, too. "Sounds astute." She cleared her throat and leaned back in her seat again. "So what would we do with you?" she asked, her lips pulling out with a small, kind smile again. "What were you doing before?"
Amanda shrugged. "The usual: prowl the perimeters, scavenge on the hunts, kill rotters." She paused. "Bear this world. Live by my code."
"Your code?"
"Yeah. Kill the dead, don't hurt the living unless they try to hurt us or the others."
Deanna nodded slowly. "It's a damn good code."
"It is."
"I guess then I have to figure out a way for you to live by your code and do some work," Deanna commented further with her smile. "My husband and I—we have so many plans for this place. We both want a community where children can grow up in a safe environment. Without hunger. Without fear. Without death."
Amanda inhaled slowly, somehow the words vibrating in her. Without hunger. Without fear. Without death. Like Rick, that was all she wanted for her…people, as well. For Beth, for Judith, for Carl…for all of them. "I'm glad to hear that," she said. "That's what we want, too."
"I know." The older woman gave her a look. "I think you can help us achieve those dreams, Officer Shepherd."
Amanda swallowed. "In the prison—the place we used to have before we lost it, I was trying to teach people how to survive. Protect themselves. I can still do it, I guess. Rick can help, too, if anyone wants to learn. And your son mentioned he wouldn't mind a…lady among them. I can go on runs, take watches, too." She shook her shoulders. "I don't know."
She just didn't. Her eyes turned to the old woman once more. Deanna was looking at her in careful consideration. "We can talk about it later in detail," she said after a while. "I fear we must learn a few things first, yes."
Amanda shrugged before she answered in the same way she'd done to Rick months ago. "Luck runs out."
A laughter came out from Deanna. "I'm a good poker player. I don't trust luck."
Amanda laughed back lowly. "Me neither. It's a fickle thing."
"We still need you to answer the basic questions."
"I'm thirty years old, born in August," she answered without a fuss. "Blood type is B positive. I'm not related to anyone by blood, but I'm the guardian of a teenage girl. Name is Beth Greene. In fact, you can even say we're blood-related," she corrected. "It's her blood that I have in my veins. She supplied me with her blood when I was shot."
After she finished, Deanna did something Amanda couldn't have guessed. The woman reached out and turned off the camera. "I can listen if you want to share."
Amanda gave the woman another look. "Maybe another time. My people are waiting. The earlier we're done with these interviews, the better." She paused, her expression getting cross as she remembered. "There're still hay and dung in my hair."
"Sorry to hear that."
She shrugged again. "It appears you couldn't wait to meet us," she clipped snidely, standing up, but Deanna stopped her before she could leave.
"Aaron mentioned something about a cure," the woman remarked. "Rick said it's a discussion for another time. What's it?"
Briefly, halting at the threshold of the living room, Amanda wondered if she'd been really played; that the woman was really going to use her as a bridge between herself and Rick.
The notion made her frown. "What did you hear?" she asked briskly, but still gave her the details.
"Abraham has a scientist with him. He thinks he might devise a cure, at least to stop the infection. He was trying to get Eugene to D.C when we met. We wanted to check around. We were talking about going to Arlington, to check the Pentagon. Abraham will certainly want to do that and will ask your participation," she concluded. "For further information, you have to talk to him."
"And you. What do you think about it?" Deanna asked. "Do you still want to go?"
"I don't know—" She gave the woman a closed lip smile before she turned around. "It's a discussion for another time."
As she walked away, Amanda heard the woman laugh behind her back.
# # #
By the time, Amanda came back, the porch was deserted. She pushed open the screen door, but before she walked inside, she stopped at the threshold. Beside the door, over by the coat stand, there were shoes and boots. Even Rick's sturdy cowboy boots.
The scene almost made her gag as a tight lump sat in her throat. She couldn't even remember the last time she took her boots off to relax. In the prison and Grady, she took them off before she went to bed, but in the woods, even that wasn't an option easily.
Amanda bent down and took off her combat boots, carefully tucking her boot knife inside one of them before she walked in the corridor only in her socks. They all were still on the first floor, scattered in the living room.
No one had made a move to go upstairs. Hell, like her, no one even made a move for the bathroom, it seemed, judging by the look of them, but they were all without their boots.
We both want a community where children can grow up in a safe environment. Without hunger. Without fear. Without death—
Her eyes scanned the room. Rick was sitting on the floor on the rugs with Judith, his back rested against the couch. He was playing with the baby girl as Glenn sat a few feet away from them with Carol, Joan, and Daryl. Noah was still with the boys, as Abraham's clan—
She quickly searched the room—a panic finding her—Beth?
Where was Beth?
She hurried to Rick. "Rick!" She breathed out, spinning around the room, still searching... "Where's Beth?"
Reaching up to her, Rick gently touched her hand. "Easy. She left with Carl to look around."
She narrowed her eyes. "You let them?"
"Beatrice's sister came when you were at Deanna's. There was another boy, too. Ron or something. They went together."
She narrowed her eyes at him. "Did Beatrice come, too?" she snapped. "Bat her eyes at you?"
His expression soured. "No. She didn't come. And you need to cool off."
She sent him another glare. "I'm going to look for them."
"Amanda—" Rick said slowly, his voice holding back a sigh. "She just bit your head off. Give her a bit of room to breathe."
"Rick, if I was looking for advice about dealing with acting out teenagers, you would be the last person I'd ask for his opinion," she hit rather below the belt. Why, she had no idea, either.
His face stiffening even more, Rick turned to Judith, not dignifying her spiteful comment with an answer. Amanda really felt like a bitch. Her eyes turned to the door.
The truth was that Rick would've never let them go if he wasn't sort of okay with it. She breathed deeply, trying to calm herself. She could—she could—
Goddammit!
She spun on her heel and rushed to the door. She just needed to see it with her own eyes. Then she—she would come back. Just see Beth. Then she would apologize, too.
She leaned and took her boot in front of the screen door, and started tucking in her right foot, holding her boot knife as the door suddenly opened, and a woman appeared.
Drawing up, Amanda looked at the newcomer.
"Hi. I'm Jessie—" the woman introduced, her voice shaking as she held up a wooden basket in her hands. Alexandrians seemed to be really generous people, coming bearing gifts but then Amanda remembered what Aiden Monroe had said about food.
"Deanna asked me to deliver this," the woman confirmed, too, handing the basket to Amanda, her eyes freezing on her knife for a second. Amanda saw the woman's hands also shook slightly like her voice. "I don't work for the pantry," she continued, "but Olivia is on sick leave today."
Amanda gave a half nod, not knowing who Olivia was, or why the woman felt the need to explain. "Thank you," she murmured, taking the basket. Looking at her, Amanda picked up the woman's red eyes, too, as if she'd been crying all night.
"Are you okay?" her cop reflex made her question.
Jessie brushed it off. "Yeah. I'm okay. Deanna said you've got kids," she went on, her voice getting cooler. "That's why I came really—" The woman even gave her a tight smile this time. "They just passed me the delivery. I teach at the school in the community center," she elaborated. "How old are the children?"
"Mika is ten years old," Amanda answered, still baffled the sudden concept of…school. "Beth is seventeen, Carl is fifteen."
The woman nodded. "Mika can be in my class. Beth and Carl will be in Eric's," she supplied in. "He usually takes the teenagers. I'll send my son to gather them up tomorrow morning." She opened her mouth, but the woman added before she could make a sound. "Deanna waits for Sergeant Ford."
With that, she turned and left. Amanda narrowed her eyes as the woman walked rigidly. The next second, she bowed her head and looked at the food basket, her right foot still tucked in the boot. She sighed deeply, pushed it off, and walked towards the kitchen.
She set the basket on the island's countertop and headed back into the living room. She walked to Abraham and informed him he was summoned. Her eyes turned to Rick. Her moment interrupted and passed, Amanda sat down beside them as Judith half crawled, half tumbled over Rick's leg to the other side.
"Someone brought food," she said to start a conversation. Rick nodded tersely, not looking at her. "Rick—" she started, but heard the screen door closing softly again, and a few seconds later, Carl and Beth appeared at the living room's entrance.
Beth walked to the couch and threw herself on it. "They have a swimming pool—" she uttered as they turned to look at her. "They really have a fucking swimming pool!"
"Beth!" Amanda cried out hearing the swear word, but Beth didn't even cast her a glance. She'd heard the teenager utter the f-word before a few times when she was without company, but with all of them being present—
No!
It was wrong!
Beth sprung up to her feet. "I'm taking a shower."
Amanda sighed, as she reached to Judith over Rick's leg while Beth left the room. Rick turned to Carl. "Carl, someone brought food," he told Carl. "Go check it out."
Carl nodded, standing up and went to the kitchen. "Rick—" Amanda called out to him again. "I—I'm sorry," she whispered.
He made a sound, drawing his legs up to his chest and placed the baby girl on them. He bounced Judith on his knees, not giving her further attention as Judith cried out happy happily each time Rick bounced her.
"You're gonna make her puke—" Amanda warned.
He still didn't pay her any attention. "I told Deanna we're together—" she blurted out. His swinging ceasing, Rick stilled as Judith softly made baby noises in protest. His neck craned towards her. "She wanted to pair us as partners," she explained. "I told her it wasn't a good idea because we're together."
Jerking his head tersely in a nod, he returned to Judith. Amanda swallowed. "It's okay, right? You're okay with it?"
That made him react. He snapped his head toward her again, completely stilling, his eyes lit. "I'm not going to answer that, Amanda, because I'm tired of fighting with you."
Her temper firing too, she shot him a look. "Well, she told me she asked you, too, and you told her it was none of her business."
"Because it is—" Rick said pointedly. "It's none of her business. I'm not hiding it."
"Well—"
"No—" he cut her off. "Not now, Amanda. Later tonight, we talk."
She bowed her head, nodding. "Okay."
"How did it go?" Rick asked after a while as he settled Judith down, his voice losing its edge.
"Good…I think."
"Has she appointed you a job?" he asked, then turned to her again before he quickly added, "You don't have to accept anything you don't want to, Amanda."
She swallowed. "No. She was…kind. She wanted to partner us first, but well, after I told her it isn't a good idea, she let it go. She asked me what I was doing before. Told her the usual stuff." Rick gave her a questioning look. "You know… I prowl, scavenge, kill rotters - stuff."
"You don't have to do that either," he told her slowly, his eyes on hers. He left the rest of his words unsaid.
Her head turning, she almost slid towards him and nestled herself in his arms like Judith was doing, laying across his chest. Her eyes prickled, and something in her tugged. She bowed her head. "Amanda—" Rick softly called to her.
"I don't want to fight with you anymore," she cut him off in a whisper, moving an inch closer to him. She raised her eyes up to look at him.
His gaze holding hers, Rick heaved a deep sigh tiredly. "Amanda."
"I'm sorry—" she repeated.
Rick sighed again. Carl came from the kitchen and took Judith and went back again. Taking the opportunity, Amanda scooted to him, almost resting her head on his shoulder. They stayed like that for a little while without talking before Amanda broke the silence.
"Uh—has Beatrice come, too?" she asked, with a voice she hoped was sounding innocent enough.
Rick shook his head, silently laughing. "No. She hasn't come."
She paused for a second. "I think that tiramisu was for you."
"No. It wasn't."
Her hand touched at his beard. "Either way, you should cut off this ugly thing. I can't even see your face now."
A small smile curved up his lips. "Missed it?"
She nodded. "Yeah—" she said, smiling back. "You have a pretty face."
"I thought I'm supposed to be handsome."
"Nope. You're pretty. I like pretty." Her smile growing, the words left too. "I had a drink, too. Aiden Monroe prepared me tea while I was waiting for Deanna," she remarked as Rick's loosened expression stiffened. "He said he could offer me something harder, too."
He tilted his chin to look down at her. "Hmm. What did you say?"
She didn't know if he was just playing along, or he was really jealous, but she didn't care. It just felt good that they were talking—flirting with each other again. "I said we shouldn't drink."
"Good." He paused a beat. "But incomplete."
She stared back at him. "Is it?"
He nodded. "Uh huh. Say my…boyfriend doesn't want me to drink with other guys the next time."
She couldn't help it. A giggle escaped from her before she covered her mouth at the side of his shoulder.
As his lips brushed over the top of her head, Amanda sensed his smile before he kissed her hair.
# # #
By the time the interviews finished, it was evening.
Closing the shades, they turn on the lamps in the corners. A gentle warm light gave the interiors an almost romantic atmosphere. Deanna came by before dinner, seeing how they were faring. When the woman saw them still huddled together in the living room, she didn't say anything, but Rick read her gaze still the same.
When would you trust us, Rick?
Well, Rick was already half convinced to trust her to be here, accepting the food, but going upstairs and sleeping in a real bed? Somehow, he just couldn't do it.
How they would share the bedrooms was also a discussion Rick didn't want to have as of the moment. At least not before he cleared up some things with Amanda.
But they needed some privacy. Their moment after her freaking out for Beth had made it perfectly clear. In that moment, they could've kissed and made out, perhaps even had sex again—finally. Instead, she just scooted over closer to him, resting her head on his shoulder after Carl left the room for the kitchen with Judith.
They damn well needed some privacy, but on the other hand, Rick still wanted to see all of his family where he could gather them quickly enough in case of an attack. The wall outside would prevent such a drastic attack but—
Rick wondered if he was fretting as much as Amanda now.
They needed to settle down. Have a talk. Spread out in the houses. Start living again. If this thing wasn't going to work—
No. It was going to work.
He reminded himself about the barn and the promise he'd made to himself.
His children—his family wasn't going to live through that ever again.
Rick was going to make sure of that.
One way or another.
# # #
When everyone had retreated into their secluded areas in the living room, Amanda knew it was high time to have their talk, the talk they'd been postponing quite a while. There was only Daryl and Glenn outside now, taking watches as Rick was outside on the porch, staring at the darkened town like how he'd passed last night.
Silently, Amanda stepped out and went to his side. He still must've heard her though, the way the screen door softly creaked in the quietness, but he didn't react. She wondered if he was ever going to sleep tonight. Perhaps before dawn they would slip into the den again and try to catch a wink of sleep before another day began.
Rick suddenly caught her hand and tightened his fingers. "Come on—" He tugged at her, his voice almost a whisper. "Let's make a patrol."
"Patrol?" she whispered back.
"Yeah. Check out the perimeters."
She remembered the morning they'd talked about the thing between them first after they made a morning patrol, looking at the rotters behind the fences, telling each other they didn't want any complications in their lives.
She wondered what they would say now… There were no walkers, too, no snarls, no growls in the background. Everything was quiet.
They left the porch, her hand still tucked in his and started touring the town. This walking hand in hand wasn't the proper way to make a patrol, but Amanda didn't care at the moment. Not knowing what else to do, she just rolled along with Rick.
But the town really looked beautiful in its dark, idyllic stillness, almost peaceful. The stars were shining brightly without city lights, like in the woods, moon high in the sky. It wasn't only quiet, but also beautiful. For a moment, she thought of staying out to watch the sunrise, climbing up the slope, looking east—
Amanda deeply breathed, remembering Deanna's words, understanding how truly—how utterly she wanted them to be true.
"Deanna said—" Amanda broke the silence with a small voice as they walked along the wall. "She and her husband want a community where children can grow up in a safe environment," she said. "I think it's true. I think I believe her."
Rick let out a subsided sigh before he confessed; "It's not her intentions that worry me, Amanda," he replied. "But her capacity." He paused for a second. "Or her will."
"She knows that, too—" Amanda countered. "That's why she wanted us."
Rick nodded, then stopped and turned to her. "I hope it's gonna be enough—" he said. "Because we're not losing this place. This's gonna work. One way or another."
She closed her eyes momentarily, breathing out. His words were cryptic, but Amanda didn't need any elaboration. "I know."
He nodded again as his eyes moved around and spotted the tree in the yard of a structure that might be the maintenance building of Alexandria. The area was more secluded than the rest of the backyard, the old stone wall of the town lined with trees circling the building like an arc just under the massive steel wall's shadow.
They headed toward the building silently, something twisting in her stomach. Amanda tried to quell it down. They needed to talk. It was a long time coming, even though she still had no idea what she was going to say exactly—
She just knew they had to.
Just today she'd confessed to a stranger that they were together. Admitted that she was with him. Rick had even called himself her boyfriend. Even though the words were a joke, Amanda knew he meant what he said.
I told you already. His words in the barn before this whole Alexandria business started echoed in the back of her mind, what he told her before they left Noah's home—Amanda silenced them.
She couldn't think of it yet. She had to take it slow. She couldn't jump into another turmoil like they'd done in the woods. She was barely keeping up. They had to give each other time. She wanted to do this. She so wanted to do this, but it felt like they were riding on a roller coaster. Most of the time, it was how it felt being with him.
In the building's yard, they settled down against a tree.
Raising her head to look at the branches scarcely decorated with dry leaves above them, Amanda remembered all the times they passed like this. The times she slept in his arms, cried, sometimes just lay down, his hands stroking her hair or massaging her strained muscles.
She wanted that. She wanted those moments, more than food, more than water, more than anything in this world.
Rick turned to her after they settled further over the roots. "Amanda, why are you avoiding me?" he asked directly, no hesitation in his voice anymore as he looked her in the eye.
"I know the last weeks were hard for you," he went on. "But we can't go on like this." He paused, and those blue eyes that usually flashed with anger or glinted keenly with a sharp edge, had that sadness, that tiredness she remembered so well. "I—I almost fear touching you now."
The words pierced through her chest. There was a stark hurt in his tone, a bleak dismay. Knowing that she was the source of it hurt her as well. "I'm sorry, Rick—" She made a move over to him, but he stopped her.
"No—" he refused her. "No. This is not something you can slip around with your elusive maneuvers. We need to talk."
She blinked. "Rick—" She wasn't trying to… She wasn't trying to distract him—
She wasn't, right? She swallowed. "I want to do this, Rick." She told him the only thing she knew for sure.
"Baby, I know. I know you want to do this. But whenever you're stressed over something, you start questioning us."
"No, I didn't—"
"Yes, you did," Rick cut her off, objecting. "You knew, but you still did. You knew what I meant to Deanna when I said it was none of her business, but you still came at me."
She shook her head. "It's too much, Rick." It'd been too much for a long time. She made a sound. She wanted him to understand her, not look at her with those hurt eyes.
"I feel like I'm riding on a roller coaster with no seat belts, drunk and high at the same time," she continued, telling him at least what she felt, how she felt, her voice lowering even further. "I need to slow down. I've never done this before," she confessed, bowing her head. "I—I've never even really dated anyone."
Rick ran a hand over his face, exhaling deeply, his fingers rubbing the bridge of his nose strongly. "Uh, I've figured out that much," he muttered. "Okay—" He roughed out with another deep breath, raising his head. "We do it then. We date."
Amanda blinked a few times. "We what?"
"We date," he repeated firmly. "Do stuff. Spend time together, get to know each other, fool around—you know—"
"Rick—Rick…" She murmured his name, shaking her head. "We can't. I mean—we—"
"Why not?"
"We don't have time—"
"In the woods, perhaps—" Rick admitted. "But here in Alexandria?" He shrugged, his eyes wandering around to make his point. "We've been here a day, and nothing bad happened so far. Perhaps this is really it, Amanda."
His gaze turned to her, and a faint smirk tugged at the corner of his lips. "Remember the amenities," he rasped out. "Pools, Jacuzzis, cinemas. I can even take you out for a movie."
She laughed. "This is ridiculous."
Coiling his arm around her waist, Rick towed her to his chest. "A dinner first, then a movie," he replied. He nestled her over himself further, his eyes flicking downward to find hers. "I distinctly remember telling you I'm gonna cook you dinner."
"Now it's turned into a horror story." She giggled lowly as his bushy beard chaffed against her jawline.
"Now, officer, play nice—" he mockingly warned. "I told you I'm a good cook." His lips found behind her earlobe. She shivered at the contact.
"Rick—" she breathed out, getting stiff again.
"Relax—" He softly whispered over her neck. "We're just fooling around. We're gonna take it slow," he assured her, his voice still low, gentle, but firm. "We're gonna wait as long as you need."
She half nodded. "I don't want to screw this up—" she repeated in a slurred breath as his lips moved over the side of her neck that her half tugged up hair left bare.
"We won't—" Rick assured her as his hand released her hair tie, making her hair fall over her shoulders.
His fingers threaded through her locks slowly as her breathing turned into low purrs with his strokes. She felt herself melting, her strained muscles relaxing as if his admission to wait unlocked something in her.
"Rick—" she moaned, her hands moving up, and she was pulling him closer. She wanted him to be close to him.
"Rick—" she muttered again as he kissed her pulse, his hand sliding down over her leather jacket, slipping inside through the unzipped slit. When it found its way up under her shirt, Amanda pulled him even closer.
His hand cupped the small swell of her left breast just as their lips found each other. His other arm adjusted her across his lap to find the best angle for himself as he dipped his head to deepen the kiss.
Heat simmered in her more with each stroke his hand made over her breasts, and it felt marvelous having his callous palm, fingers rubbing over her sensitive skin, over her perked nipples. How she missed this feeling, his hands over her skin.
Rick continued with his slow, gentle ministrations while his lips moved over to her neck, her jawline, each spot he damn knew well how to make her shiver before finding her lips again.
His kiss was as slow as his caresses, and Amanda didn't know how long it passed, like always time was so relative with him, but they pulled apart an inch when breathing became a problem again. He gently rested his forehead on the edge of hers as she panted heavily.
"Ya good?" Rick whispered, his rasping voice rough with lust, his eyes glinting as he stared at her. Amanda nodded silently. She couldn't make a sound. "Do—d-do you want me to finish you?" he asked a second later. "We can do it. Just it. I promise."
Her head turning, cobwebs of desire clouding her senses, the gentle feel of his hand still over her skin, imagining them over between her legs, Amanda wanted to say yes.
They were going to date. Dating people do that, right? Making out. Getting to know each other better…figuring out each other. First base, second base, third base before they truly did the deed. They could do it. She wanted it. God, she so wanted it. Wanted a release. Of everything. Have that moment again with him.
She wanted it. She just didn't trust herself with it.
She drew another inch away, breaking their contact, looking away.
"Hey—" Rick called out, turning her to him, touching her chin as his hand came up from under her shirt. "I told you we're gonna wait. Do you trust me?"
Once more the answer blossomed in her easily. Looking back at him, Amanda nodded. In answer, Rick smiled at her warmly.
Her eyes rose, she checked their surroundings. "But it's safe?" she asked, surveying the secluded area under the stone wall. "I really don't want to get caught on our first try again."
Rick lowly chuckled out. "Well, you're gonna keep your clothes on this time—"
Her gaze turned to him. Although his lips still holding that faint smirking smile, he looked—well, he looked like how a man who was denied more than three weeks looked like. There was that glint in his eyes, sharp like a cut gemstone. His hair was tousled as her fingers turned his locks further into a mess, his long scruffy beard looking even wilder.
Amanda cleared her throat. "Um—you—uh…you'll be okay with it?" Her eyes flicked down where she could see his hardness even through the sturdy denim cloth. "I mean-it's—"
"I'll be okay—" he interrupted her. "Don't worry about me."
"But—"
"Hey, we're supposed to fool around here—" he chided mocking, shaking his head. "Not having a discussion. I'll be okay," he repeated, as his lips found her jawline again. "I just want to touch you."
I fear even touching you now… Amanda trembled, but she didn't know it was because of the words or because of his lips or because his hand crawled down over her belt, and started unbuckling her…
She shivered a few seconds later when his hand slithered under her panties. A part of her felt ashamed how wet she was, soaking, but when callous fingers started stroking her folds like she'd just imagined, Amanda only closed her eyes wrapping her arms over his neck and nestling her head over the crook of his shoulder.
It was even better than she remembered. That one time, their first time when she'd almost fucked it up, having an episode. The memories from that time threatened to spill over her barriers, but Amanda pushed them away, instead concentrating on the feeling. On his fingers, the way he stroked her—the way it made her feel…
She started squirming with soft moans when Rick plunged two fingers inside her depths at the same time. They were kissing open mouthed all the while his fingers slid, stroked, rubbed in a rhythm he orchestrated as his other hand slipping back under her shirt did the same, giving a special attention to her nipples…
Amanda knew she was going to have hickeys again for he'd started sucking her neck again, his bushy beard chaffing her jawline, but she couldn't bother herself. She just let it, holding on him, writhing pressed on him, her arms coiled around his neck until he brought her to the peak.
She didn't know how long it took her to tumble down over the line, but when it happened, she felt it coursing through her, her body trembling with it.
Slumping in his arms, she panted heavily. Her arms were still loosely coiled around his neck as gentle shivers passed over her. It wasn't a powerful orgasm. It hadn't shattered her down to her core, vibrating in her insides down to her last atom like their last time, making her see the light, but it was…nice. She felt settled in a way that felt…nice.
Rick drew her up and tugged up her pants as she half sat, half draped lazily on his lap. She didn't want to move. She wanted to…enjoy the moment.
"Ya 'kay?" Rick asked her, tilting his chin to look at her.
Amanda drowsily looped a nod, draping herself over him further. His hardness was poking at her, but somehow it didn't worry her. "It was good?" Rick asked further in a rasped whisper.
If it was anyone else the question would've made her roll her eyes, but Amanda only made another half bobbing head movement. "Yeah…" she mouthed throatily as she tightened her arms a bit. "Thank you."
She didn't know what she was exactly thanking him for, but the words just left her mouth. Overall, this wasn't exactly how she thought this talk would go. All things considered, it didn't go so bad, she supposed.
"My pleasure—" Rick chuckled softly in her ear, making her remember how it felt having him inside her as he did that before, his laughter resonating deep inside her, down to her core, sending jolts of hot pleasure down to her toes.
She ached to have it again—to have him chuckle like this when he was inside her, but she didn't want to screw up, like she always did. She just wanted to enjoy the moment, them like this…
And she wanted him to enjoy it as much as much she did. She raised her eyes. "Was it?" she asked. "Something tells me otherwise." She darted her eyes at his crotch.
Rick shook his head. "Don't worry about it," he said, unwinding her arms from his neck. Amanda started unbuckling his duty belt. He stopped her. "No. Amanda, you don't have to do it."
"I know. But we're fooling around—" she whispered. "Let's take care of you, too." She paused, her eyes finding his. "Rick—I—I want it."
They shared a look, his clear blue eyes darkening, then he jerked his head in small nod.
Amanda drew up in his arms and slid herself over his lap as she unzipped his jeans. Rick raised his hips a bit over the ground an inch. Amanda stared at him as her hand halted over his zipper. "What're you doing?"
He pulled out a black cloth from his back pocket and tucked it inside the front one. Amanda giggled silently, understanding his…preparation. "Already almost came inside my pants once. Not gonna happen again."
"Rick Grimes," she laughed silkily, bending her head to flick her tongue over his Adam's apple. "Always prepared."
Rick drew in a sharp breath as Amanda slipped her hand inside his underwear and held him. His eyes immediately closed when she tightened her grip. He tossed his head backward against the tree, his adam's apple moving in his throat as he swallowed with a silent grunt.
He looked so damn sexy, for a moment Amanda almost kicked off her pants and took him inside her. But she wanted to give him a release like he'd done to her, too. Make him enjoy himself without any complications.
Just a couple making out, exploring each other, discovering each other, not that crazy intensity, not riding on a damn roller coaster. Just two people getting to know each other better.
God, he looked so good. Looking at him when they had sex always felt like too much, but not like this. Not when she was merely giving him pleasure. She recalled how he'd ordered her when she held him once before briefly. Harder.
She curled her fingers tighter and gave him a hard pull. The hiss he let out made something in her throb in response, and Amanda knew she'd just…discovered one of his kinks. The thought brought her an odd pleasure.
Just to be sure, and because she damn liked it, she adjusted her grip and gave him another tug, her back of her knuckles gently brushing over his balls. This time a full groan escaped from him as Amanda smiled.
Her hand started stroking his length in a circular motion as she studied each expression he made, listening to each groan he let escape, her lips trailing the side of his cheeks, his bearded jaw as her other hand vanished into his long curls.
His eyes cracked open and his gaze, glazed like frosted glass, found her. But there was still no crazy intensity in it. "Enjoying yourself?" she asked in a hoarse whisper like in the bathroom, nibbling at his bottom lip as her hand picked up pace.
"Uh—" he rasped over her lips— "Very—" he hissed out. "Very..."
"Rick—"
"Yeah?"
"I think I'm liking this dating thing."
He chuckled with a low rasp as his hand moved up to the nape of her neck. "Wait until I cook you dinner," he muttered, his fingers tangling through her hair before he pulled her close for a kiss.
# # #
When they were both settled down, Amanda was again wilted against him, almost limp in his arms, her face half nesting on his shoulder. Rick was still heaving deeply, his body giving small jerks occasionally. This dating thing, Rick was liking it, too, indeed.
Tilting his head, he checked on Amanda. She looked winded down, satiated, her lips half curved with a lazy smile. She looked so beautiful that Rick couldn't take his eyes off her.
In this way, she really reminded him of a cat, her claws retracted. Most of the time, Amanda reminded him of a cat, her claws put out whenever she wanted to protect herself but calmed down when she realized she was secure and safe.
Rick wondered if he could find her a cat. Amanda would like that. He imagined her playing with a kitten together with Judy, both of them lazily lounging across her lap. He made circles across the nape of her neck with his fingertips that made her almost purr beside him.
She raised her hand and touched his beard across his jawline. "We should go—" she murmured. "They could start worry about us."
Rick gave her a half nod, but made no move to stand up. Amanda didn't either as her hand kept stroking his jaw through his beard gently. "We really should get rid of this bush," she spoke lowly with that throaty voice. "Makes my skin chaffed. Can't even kiss you properly." The words almost sounded like a whine.
It made Rick smile. "Will do it in the morning—" he told her simply because how he could ever deny something when she talked to him with that tone, looking like this. "Wanna help me?"
She propped her chin on his shoulder line and smirked at him, raising her head. "I might—" she murmured before leaning further.
Rick captured her lips. It was a lazy kiss, just how they lolled under the tree, relaxing in an idle manner. They kissed playfully with airy, small kisses as she smiled against his lips.
Rick really didn't want to leave, but Amanda had a point. They should get back to the house before the others sent a search party after them. Rick pulled up to his feet, gently snagging Amanda's elbow to get her up, too.
His eyes roamed over her again. She looked…well, she really looked like she had had a good time. Her loose hair was even more unkempt now as Rick had tousled it further with his fingers. He was sure his hair was in the same condition, too, remembering the way she held his head, her own fingers tightening inside his locks to bring him closer toward herself wantonly.
The image stirred him again in his jeans as Rick wondered when they could get further into third base… He forced the thought away while they left the secluded spot and started heading back to the house.
They just had a good time tonight, had a bit of a talk. No fighting, no fucking each other senseless in the woods or on a supply run. A bit of downtime, just like they'd tried in the church before things had gone bad…having a smoke, kissing, making out. Tonight was even better. They had to have this. Return to a bit of normalcy whenever it was possible. Amanda needed it even more than him. Then the time would come too—the time he would finally take her to bed.
Right now, he just wanted to have this peaceful moment between them.
Leaving the main road, he made a detour, circling the town. Even if Amanda noticed it, she didn't make a comment. They walked with an idle pace as if they were strolling in a park at night. She was pressed close at his side, her arm looped around his elbow loosely as Rick tucked his other hand in his pocket.
"Rick—" she called out in a low voice, craning her neck up to look at him. "You won't cook me squirrels, right?"
The way she voiced the question, her eyes staring at him with that shy, coy look made Rick chuckle out softly again. "No. I think I can manage a bit better." He thought for a few seconds. "Hmm, I saw a sauce from the supplies they brought today," he remarked. "How about pasta?"
Her nose wrinkled a bit. "Uh. Sounds…common."
"Ah—" He cleared his throat, understanding she was expecting a bit more…effort from him. "Hmm, lemme think. How about a casserole?" he asked the first thing that came to his mind that would need more effort.
That seemed to be the right thing to say because halting in her steps, Amanda gave him another look, her eyes glistening. "I like casserole," she whispered. "Can you do it?"
Well, he'd never done it, actually. But for her—for her, he would always try. "I would try," he whispered.
Shaking her head, she softly giggled, and Rick really liked the sound. "You've never cooked before, right, Rick?"
He paused for a second then admitted after a beat… "No."
She shook her head again, still laughing with a sigh. As they restarted walking, she twisted half. "I can make you pancakes," she remarked, slanting a look at him.
Rick felt a lump in his throat. She'd remembered it. His feet halting again, his gaze captured hers fully. His dream started playing in his mind as if a muted movie—
"You must be our new sheriff—" the voice coming from their left side broke the moment.
Their head whipped at the same time towards the interruption, and Rick saw a man—a man holding a whiskey glass in his hand and sitting on a swing chair on the porch that stood at their left side.
The glass's bottom was licked by amber stain. Rick had an inkling that the contents were in the man's belly. Even in the dark, Rick could see the flush over the man's face.
The man raised his glass to them and greeted them mockingly. "Welcome to Alexandria, Sheriff."
Rick frowned, his jaw setting as his shoulder squared. He pulled himself an inch away from Amanda and took a step forward. "And who you might be?"
Before the man could answer, the screen door was opened, and a blonde woman ushered out, looking nervous. She didn't even spare a glance at them. "Pete—" she called out to the man instead with a low voice, almost imploring. "It's getting late. Please, come inside."
Rick surmised she was his wife as he saw matching rings on their hands. Amanda moved beside him, her eyes fixated on the woman. "Please." The woman repeated again with the same tone.
The man stood up. "'kay, I'm comin'—" he slurred, staggering in his steps, and waved a hand at her. "You—just don't start."
Rick heard low quarreling voices from inside as soon as they disappeared behind the screen door. The outside door got closed too. Rick frowned further at the sounds. "He was drunk," he stated the obvious.
"Yeah—" Amanda confirmed. "I know her," she remarked a few seconds later. "She was the one who brought the supplies today. She was odd."
Turning to her, Rick gave her a look. "How?"
Amanda shrugged. "I don't know. Just felt…odd."
Rick nodded, understanding her point. Just a cop hunch, just like Rick had felt from the man. He tugged at her, taking her hand back in his, and they started walking again.
It didn't matter. If the man gave them trouble, Rick was going to deal with it.
This was it. This place was where they were going to settle down. Rick had become sure of it. It was going to have to work. He was going to make it work. One way or another. There was no other option.