Amanda has to admit that Rick honors her request well. He does text during the week since Carl's party and that short, regretful kiss she'd given him, but it's no more or less than she'd expect from a fellow cop whose family she knows. Dog pictures feature the most, as if even asleep he somehow realized that Milo took a liking to her.
Despite nothing resolved, it makes her feel much less conflicted about going to Michonne's bachelor party after work on Friday. She's also taken the next day off to go to the wedding, although she'd practically had to namedrop to make sure Lerner approved the time off. Her lieutenant seems impressed that Amanda knows Shane, at least.
It means she won't have to slip off early like Michonne mentioned she could, and honestly, she's sort of curious as to what a bachelorette party would be like without clubbing and copious alcohol. At least she's not the designated driver for this one.
She's not the last to arrive, but the fact that Carol joins her as Amanda drops off her overnight bag to be taken up to the suite is reassuring. Granted, she thinks she knows enough women who'll be here not to be isolated, having two sisters-in-law present is even better.
"Do you think Merle is going to survive four kids for a night?" she asks, falling in step by Carol as the older woman leads the way. Granted, Ruby and the twins are easy enough, but Clara's only seven weeks old.
"Oh, he'll be just fine until I get home. I won't do the overnight part, but damned if I was giving up free massages here. They price as high as three hundred dollars." Carol grins at her as they reach the spa entrance. "Besides, Daryl and Naomi are over. He's got reinforcements."
Amanda snickers and shakes her head. "They're still badly outnumbered, by Dixon offspring at that." Then the rest of what Carol said catches up with her. "Three hundred dollars?"
"Yep. I think we're all doing shorter ones tonight, but the really good ones here are pricey."
Christ. Amanda wonders if Michonne's best friend is footing the bill like usually goes for these events. Then again, Andrea's a full partner at one of the more successful Atlanta law firms. She could probably afford a dozen massages at that price easily.
Michonne greets them happily, waving to them both from where she's already clad in a towel, with a fruit smoothie of some sort in hand instead of the wine glasses Amanda can see some of the women drinking from. Lori is nearby with her own smoothie, with both women already getting a pedicure.
"Fill out the form for the particulars they need to know, ladies. Decide if you want the massage, facial, and mani-pedi, or some combination of the three. You can also just grab your drink of choice and enjoy the aromatherapy, but I highly recommend at least letting them work their miracles at the massage tables."
There are four of those in the big room, strategically placed so the person getting the massage is still able to be part of the conversation. Lush chairs fill the rest of the space, and Amanda sort of recognizes Andrea already leaned back in a chair for some sort of scalp massage that she is definitely enjoying.
Carol tugs by the elbow. "C'mon. You can't tell me you wouldn't enjoy a massage after that uniform and equipment all day."
Figuring it can't hurt, and she's actually curious why people pay this kind of money for them, Amanda follows her to the changing area to switch to the relaxed towel-as-clothing motif everyone else is enjoying.
Half an hour later, she's thinking three hundred dollars to get eighty minutes of this would be money well spent. It's not like there aren't cheaper places that have just as talented masseuses. Here, it's paying for the luxury name on the hotel as much as quality work.
"You look like you could just fall asleep and skip the rest."
Amanda cracks an eye open and hums non-committally to Michonne, who seems deeply amused. Drifting back to the relaxed state, she sips at the smoothie she accepted after the massage, savoring the pineapple and banana blend as her skin carries the distinct scent of peppermint from the massage oils. "I did sign up for the mani-pedi. Had those enough here and there to know I like the pampering."
The lovely work she'd had done that day with Beth hadn't lasted as long for her as for Beth, because she'd had to remove the fingernail polish for work. But at least her toes had been gorgeous for a while. Plus, since tomorrow is the wedding, it's one of the rare occasions like the charity gala where having pretty nails is proper etiquette.
But for now, there's actually no one really close by, so Amanda thinks about Michonne's concern about not just Rick, but Amanda, too. Then she remembers that kiss and the quiet evening spent with Rick and thinks she misses that even more than having sex with him. Her apartment feels too damn empty now that he's stayed there.
"Hey, Michonne?"
"Yeah?"
"Would you text me the name of that counselor?"
If Amanda expected a reaction out of her companion, she doesn't get one. Michonne just idly waves a hand already sleekly manicured. "Sure. Once we're back in clothes and I can find my phone."
"It's no rush."
That does get her a lazy smile. "Shane said Rick's been walking around a bit dazed this week. I'm figuring that's because of you, so I'd do it right now if it helps you two out."
Before Amanda can reply, a pretty blonde wanders over and takes a seat next to Michonne, chattering happily. It takes a minute to catch the name Michonne subtly drops, but Amanda's placed the woman as a florist named Jessie that Amanda thinks is a former client of Michonne's in much the way Carol is. By the time she gleans that much, Amanda's nails are the prettiest she's ever seen them with pale blue that will go well with the dress she bought for the wedding. With Rick funding the gala pantsuit, Amanda felt she could splurge a little, although this time she didn't go designer, and it'll match the designer shoes she's only gotten to wear once.
It doesn't take long after that for everyone to get dressed and make their way to the mezzanine and the lounge-style restaurant and bar that has nice music playing from an apparently immense vinyl record collection. The menu has the sort of insane prices Amanda thinks would suit Rick's mother well, and that's a bit of a sobering thought when she hasn't even had any alcohol yet to need it. Evelyn had mentioned in passing on Sunday that she's got an entire suite here, and Amanda is suddenly certain it's the most expensive one in the place.
How does she ever fit into anywhere like this except as a visitor?
"You look like you just saw a ghost." Lori takes the seat to her left, smiling warmly. "Or is it the fact that you just realized you could feed yourself for a week off an entree and a drink here?"
"That definitely did cross my mind." Eventually, Amanda is going to have to talk to Lori about Rick, especially if anything else happens, but tonight seems like the entirely wrong time to do it.
"Eh, just remind yourself that those nice waiters and bartenders are being much better paid than the cheaper places. It'll help a bit, I promise." Lori scans the menu. "If you're good and hungry, the pan-seared scallops are to die for here, and so is the gnocchi."
"You've eaten here, I guess?" Amanda thinks either sounds fine, but orders the scallops when the waiter comes to the table, along with a glass of Riesling that Lori also suggests. Lori orders the same dinner but sighs and asks for a non-alcoholic version of one of the mixed drinks.
"Here specifically, honestly not until Daryl and I moved up to Atlanta this year. It's a little below Evelyn's tastes, even being in this hotel. She usually gets them to cater meals in her suite." Lori grins, not seeming upset by it. "It's nice to have a night of just me and Daryl someplace like this. He thinks he's spoiling me, but he'll honestly relax and forget worrying about if he belongs here. It's the music, I think, and that they aren't so upscale they don't pretend burgers don't exist."
Amanda remembers the burger on the menu and laughs. "How did you get him to not have a litter of kittens over a burger that cost more than twenty bucks?"
Lori arches a brow in that way of hers that tells Amanda her sister-in-law may normally act very prim and proper, but she's got a mischievous streak of her own. "Are you sure you really want the answer to that about your brother?"
It takes a good five minutes for Amanda to stop sputtering, especially once the exchange catches the other ladies' attention, and everyone remembers they're at a bachelorette party. She thinks half of the tales of sexcapades are embellished for laughs, and the other half might even make the guys in the station locker rooms blush. Hell, she forgot just how raunchy women could be in the right environment. It's entertaining, to say the least.
As much as she thought she might feel the odd one out in the group, it doesn't feel that way at all, especially once Lori's impish behavior results in a quip that, for all the problems Rick and Lori had, their sex life wasn't one of them.
Nothing draws the attention of giggling, well-buzzed women like that level of gossip pending.
"You're dating Lori's ex-husband?" Andrea asks, looking intrigued. Unlike the others who can drink, who have wine beside their plates, she's just skipped that stage to having a tumbler of prohibitively expensive whiskey alongside her food.
Amanda hesitates, trying to decide what her answer should be, which makes Lori and Michonne exchange a look before Michonne smacks her friend in the arm playfully.
"Hands off the best man, Andrea. He's taken."
"Damn. I'd been entertaining a fantasy of going full-on stereotype after the wedding. Yanno, maid of honor and best man fucking like bunnies in the nearest janitor's closet."
Before Amanda can formulate a reply to that, Lori starts giggling hard enough that Amanda would think she was drunk except for the fact that she knows Lori wouldn't while pregnant. "Oh, God, Michonne. At my first wedding… Shane…" She can't seem to catch her breath for all the giggling.
"Got caught buck ass naked with a bridesmaid in the room set aside for the minister's use?" Michonne seems equally amused but then smiles slyly. "We may have recreated the scene at your second wedding, although we did make sure the poor officiant didn't get an eyeful that time."
Carol eyes her glass of wine dubiously. "I'm thinking this conversation may require stronger alcohol…"
"If you or Lori are going to start sharing, I think there's not enough alcohol in the building," Amanda mutters, trying not to grin. "Imagining Daryl with a sex life is bad, but Merle? No, no, nope."
Carol does grin and blows her a kiss, even as she summons the waiter over for a round of tequila shots for the table. Switching from wine to shots and mixed drinks when the others do is easy enough after that, but the mixed drink that seems to do her in is aptly named as 'sneaky smoky cocoa'. The chocolate flavor masks the mezcal's impact enough that she's probably one drink too far when everyone starts gathering up to leave.
She's a bit wobbly on the way to the elevator but finds herself balanced out by Lori slinging an arm around her waist. Later, she knows she can blame the alcohol for missing out that it's just the two of them on the elevator, somehow gone ahead of the rest. Letting the hotel staff take her overnight bag up means she has no idea where the room she's supposed to share with Lori is, because she'd pocketed the keycard without even looking at it.
The only warning she gets is when Lori knocks on the door. By the time her brain registers it should be unnecessary, Rick opens the door. Lori gently pushes Amanda toward him and scurries away, disappearing through the stairwell door nearby before either of them can call her name.
Rick blinks before turning back to Amanda. "Do I want to know what that was about?"
Shaking her head, Amanda's breath catches. He's obviously been in his room long enough to have showered, because he's wearing a robe that leaves enough of his chest bare for her mind to wander to just how much she likes feeling the texture of his chest hair under her fingers.
"I think it's the equivalent of locking us in a closet and telling us to figure our shit out," she says, taking a step forward. His breathing changes when she does, and a thrill shoots through her at how she can affect him without even touching him.
"Yeah. What are we figuring out?"
The way his voice drops an octave pushes her from hesitant to decisive. She's missed him on all levels in a way she can't entirely explain, and sex isn't going to solve the problems she still has to work out, but dammit, tonight she wants nothing more than to lose herself in the way she only ever has with him.
Backing him away from the doorway with a hand splayed flat against his bare chest, Amanda closes the door with a smile gracing her features.
Rick had promised himself after the unexpected kiss Sunday evening that he wasn't sleeping with Amanda again until they'd sorted out her feelings toward him. The resolution didn't even make it a full week, and he wonders how much of last night's meddling was just Lori. Something about the little scheme has both Shane and Michonne written all over it.
Twenty years ago, Rick would have sworn if Shane ever got married, his best friend's bachelor party would be the stuff they make crazy buddy movies about; excessive drinking, strippers, all the infamous stereotypes. Rick's own party had used a few of those, including a barely legal lap dance he still blushes to think about. Instead of all that for Shane, they had a coed poker night in a posh hotel suite, including three female cops Shane worked with over the years.
Expensive whiskey and good craft beer abounded, and even if Shane nearly abstained out of a sense of partnership with his pregnant fiance, Rick indulged. He hadn't been beyond the point of no return when Amanda was delivered to his door, but his reservations fled under the influence like he was an inexperienced college kid and not a nearly forty-year-old man with a grown son.
Dawn is just starting to illuminate the room, and while his body has that pleasant ache he associates with athletic sex, he just feels completely content with the fact that she's skin-to-skin with him. Her willingness to gravitate to him in her sleep has always appealed to him.
But nature demands he not stay cuddled against her, so he eases out of the bed, taking care of the distraction quickly enough. Washing up at the sink, he tries to push away the worry that she's going to change her mind again, especially since she had certainly been far more under the influence than he had been. When he's back in the room, he sees the room service cart from last night with the remains of the selection of desserts he'd ordered when Amanda mentioned she'd skipped dessert after discovering a chocolate mixed drink in the bar, considering breakfast is probably a good idea for them both.
"I hope you aren't considering snacking on anything we left," Amanda says, sitting up in bed and stretching.
He admires the movement before smiling slyly at her. "I was thinking of ordering a fresh round. You made such a delightful dessert plate."
Nudity means that he can see the blush spread across her skin, flushing even her upper chest, but she squirms in a way he doesn't think is embarrassment. His own body reacts to the memory of chocolate ganache and caramel sauce trailed down her breastbone to the flat plane of her stomach. She swallows hard as he approaches the bed, but the way she sprawls back into the sheets and lets her knees fall apart tells him that for now at least, she doesn't regret coming to his bed last night.
Heavily edited scene... even the chapter title really needs the full smut, so many apologies if you can't peek at AO3.
He complies. Oh, God, does he comply.
Eventually, he has to move because he can't imagine his weight is comfortable at all. When he tugs the pillow out from under her, Amanda just curls against him. She blinks lazily a few times… and falls asleep.
Deciding a shower and breakfast can wait, Rick hauls her against his chest, presses a kiss against her temple, and joins her in sleep.
A/N: This chapter is one of the hardest I've wrestled to deliver equal content to FFN readers as AO3 readers, and in the end, it just wasn't possible. If you take a peek (I'm DarkTidings, no space), please know that you don't need an account to read (or review) there, just like FFN. My smut isn't porn level, but it's just a few steps too far for FFN rating.
Me: Sex will be off camera for this chapter. Fun stuff happens next chapter, instead.
Rick & Amanda: Oh yeah? Hide and watch.
Me: Is that a threat... oh my o.O
Also, my beta says for Amanda meeting Denise:
Denise: So, what's the problem, Amanda? (Asking about Rick)
Amanda: (She huffs) He's handsome, rich, and loves me.
Denise. Get out. Seriously, just get out.
Lastly, I have found Amanda's theme song, I think. If you're curious, google Ingrid Andress' "Lady Like".