Amanda parks in front of a place out in the county she's not sure she could afford if she saved up her entire life. It's not that the house is modern or expensive, because it's actually a smaller red brick ranch probably built in the seventies. It's the acreage surrounding it, neatly enclosed with the white wooden fencing common to horse farms. How much land, she doesn't know, but there certainly aren't any close neighbors, and she sees a good sized shop building and barn.
Rick's out of his Mustang, greeting a huge shepherd type dog that seems to know him well. He smiles over at Amanda as he pets the dog, Beth hovering behind him, looking sleepy. "This is Athena. She's a retired King County officer."
Amanda nods. "He had a K9 partner?"
"It's why we split up our partnership. He went into the K9 unit, while I went into investigations."
The dog turns, and Amanda sees why she's retired finally. Her right eye is gone, and her face scarred. Athena takes note of the newcomer to her territory, but trots off as a door opens. The big deputy Amanda remembers from the newscast and Daryl's wedding steps out onto the porch and calls out a greeting.
As they head inside, Shane introduces himself, leading them to a big south facing sunroom. "Gotta mix business with dad life this morning. Chonne caught a case and had to run into the city."
"Is she a cop?" Amanda asks, looking around the room. It's as large as some studio apartments, set up with lots of plants and a cute table and chairs that Shane appears to be using as a desk today. There's paperwork set out from a small portable printer next to a laptop.
"No." The grin from the other deputy warns her his reply is going to be something unique. "She's a defense attorney."
That explains the house and land, probably, but she doesn't even want to know how that works. It seems to amuse Shane as he invites them to take a seat. Outside, Amanda can see a boy, probably her niece Ruby's age, playing fetch with a small, weird looking dog. Athena lays in a shady spot, watching them both. It explains the workspace, she supposes, to keep an eye on his son.
Shane slides paperwork toward each of them. "Full standard paperwork. I've got similar for Merle, but he's meeting with me tomorrow. Taking a family trip out to the state park."
The cover makes sense, but Amanda cuts her gaze to Beth. "Are we sure she has to be involved?"
"She's not at risk like Merle, but odds are high that she may pick up information. Having someone with more movement in the bar than Merle has is valuable."
"Most importantly, I agreed to it. Girls shouldn't have to hide from cops like that." Beth hands her paperwork to Shane.
The man looks it over and nods, adding his own signature and putting it in a folder. "Mind stepping out for a bit, Beth?"
The girl stands. "Sure. What's your son's name?"
"Andre. And the mini mutt's name is Izzy." As soon as the door closes behind Beth, Shane leans back in his chair. "After we talked last night, the Sheriff and I had a very long conversation. We're putting another girl in. She's not part of what you two will be doing. But y'all can't be with Beth around the clock. So Tara will."
"Another deputy?" Rick frowns. "Isn't that a risk she'll be recognized?"
"New transfer from Virginia. She's enrolled at Tech, either in the same classes as Beth or those in adjacent classrooms. She's gonna befriend Beth and be her ride to work. Won't work Gorman himself, but she goes in. Sheriff's orders."
Amanda actually relaxes a bit at the idea there's someone else watching Beth's back, even if the other cop is an unknown. The rest of the requirements laid out aren't complicated, since they're just starting the plan. As they're finishing up, Shane hands Amanda a business card for an insurance agency. The man's current intensity isn't the smiling political cop from the news or the jovial buddy who greeted them as Rick's best friend. She thinks this is the real cop, the man Rick trusted at his back for a decade.
"Keep it on you or memorize the number. If you can't get through to Rick, that's how you reach me instead. Neither of you have done this sort of thing before, and you're using your personal lives more than you should. It will get uglier than you think it will, especially going after another cop. Things you'll need to overlook or even experience? Training classes can't prepare you for those."
"Shane? How much of a risk is this to Carl?" Rick asks, and Amanda hisses at the thought. "Maybe he should stay with his mother a while."
"Keep it in mind as a backup plan, but Carl's rarely alone. Kid doesn't have his own car and doesn't take the bus. That penthouse of yours is a special level of secure. You know I checked it myself." Shane leans over, intent on Rick. "If families go on this guy's radar? Carl's already there. Best thing we can do is make sure he goes down and goes down hard."
Amanda stiffens, but Shane is right. She's insulated from immediately being known as related to Merle, but Carl's his nephew and Sophia's best friend. Even without Rick coming into the picture, Carl would be known to Gorman.
"That's part of how you sold it to your sheriff, isn't it?" she muses, drawing that intense gaze back her way, along with Rick's. "Gorman's putting a deputy's family in danger."
"It was a factor." Shane levels his gaze at Rick. "Would have gone off the books if I had to."
"Shane," Rick says, voice going a little hoarse with a warning note, and Amanda isn't sure what emotion is at play, but Shane seems aware.
"Not an ambition in this world more important than family, brother, you know that."
It's a sentiment Amanda can heartily agree with. All the work she's put in to get to where she is? None of that matters if her family needs her.
A rumbling sound alerts them all to the garage door opening, and Shane tidies all the paperwork away into a lockbox. By the time he's done, a statuesque, dark skinned woman appears in the doorway of the sunroom. She's dressed in an elegant suit, coming to press a kiss to Rick's cheek as they all stand, before wrapping her arms around Shane's waist and sighing contentedly after a brush of their lips.
"Fought the good fight already?" Shane drawls.
"Negotiated a plea deal for court on Monday. Sadly, just easy money for getting a spoiled kid probation and community service." She eases away from Shane to offer Amanda her hand, but Amanda doesn't need any introduction as she shakes.
"Michonne Hawthorne. You aren't a popular lady in my precinct." She makes sure to smile to take the sting out of the words. Defense attorney with a cop is one thing, but Michonne? She's the terror of every cop and detective in the Atlanta Police Department. Amanda just didn't make the connection earlier, with Shane using a diminutive of her name.
Luckily, Michonne just laughs, stepping back close to Shane. "We're all cogs in the same great legal machine. If making a few sloppy cops wet themselves makes the machine run correctly, then I've done my job."
Andre cuts off anything further, coming through the back door with a happy greeting to his mother and a cheerful, enthusiastic hug for 'Uncle Rick'. Beth and the two dogs follow, and the girl glances at her watch. "Rick? I need to be back on campus by lunch to meet my sister."
That leads to farewells, with Amanda driving away before Rick and Beth, deciding she might manage some laundry at home before meeting Rick at his apartment to do some in depth planning about what they do next. Shane's warning about them stepping into an area of police work neither are really prepared for makes her nervous. They've both got too much riding on this to get anything wrong.
Rick debates just ordering for food to be delivered when Amanda's reply to his text about food is that she's not picky. Instead, since Carl's gone to the movies with friends, he heads downstairs to the market connected to his building and snags some fresh salmon, which his son detests no matter how he cooks it. By the time Amanda arrives, there's plates of sweet chili salmon with rice and grilled asparagus in the warming drawer.
She settles at the breakfast bar to eat, taking the beer he offers almost absently. He leaves her to her thoughts, finishing off his own food as fast as she does. Tidying away the dishes into the dishwasher and setting the timer for it to run later, he leans against the counter and studies her.
"Having second thoughts?" he asks. Shane's advice earlier has them both rattled, he thinks.
"Second and third, but it doesn't matter. We have to do something before Gorman's out of control. There's no way he'll stop. But your friend? He seems pretty confident it's going to be rough. Didn't think y'all did a lot of this kind of thing down in King County."
"Our county didn't, but Shane got loaned out now and then to other departments when they needed a fresh face for something. Even the feds a time or two. He always discouraged me from volunteering, and I don't think it was all because I'm not as good an actor as he is." Rick shrugs and sighs. "Getting back to normal took him a bit sometimes."
Rick strongly suspects that Shane's background of growing up poor combined with his size sent him into situations as muscle or worse, especially if drugs were involved. Sometimes Rick had the feeling Shane aimed for his initial promotions to become too visible for that sort of work to be viable.
"I'm not sure we're going to know normal for a while." Amanda sounds dour, but her expression shifts to curiosity. "How the hell does that work? Him and Michonne Hawthorne of all people?"
"Honestly? I can't speak for the professional, but personally, she's good for him. I've known him since we were toddlers, and he was this perpetual bachelor, never spending more than a couple of weeks in a relationship. But then he met her and Andre, and it was like he hit a brick wall. His old life just stopped being enough for him."
Rick envies Shane that, sometimes. Even in the earliest days of his marriage, he never felt as certain about anything as Shane does about Michonne and their son. It's life's own irony that his divorce led to Shane settling down.
"Oh. Andre isn't his son?"
"Biologically? No. But he adopted him last year, even though he and Michonne aren't married yet. He said he never wants Andre to doubt his commitment to him, separate from his relationship to Michonne."
She mulls that over, making him remember she's adopted, too. Her family is full of complex additions, with Carl and Sophia, so he imagines she understands Shane even better than Rick.
"We should probably get started," she says at last, but before they can get to work, the intercom to the concierge desk buzzes.
Rick frowns as he presses the button. He's not expecting visitors or deliveries. The news isn't pleasant.
"There's a Sergeant Gorman with the Atlanta Police Department here to see you, Lieutenant Grimes." The man's voice emphasizes Rick's police rank in a way that tells him Gorman's probably irritated the staffer.
Exchanging an alarmed look with Amanda, Rick thinks fast. "Can you make it take ten minutes to get him up here?"
"Certainly, sir. I'll need to find someone to take over the desk for me to escort your guest upstairs." Rick thinks that the man would be smirking if he wasn't likely facing Gorman. He'll have to tip him well.
As soon as the intercom isn't active, he turns to Amanda. "While ducking out of sight is an option, it's possible he knows you're here. How do you want to explain it?"
"I'm parked in the spot for your apartment. He wouldn't know that, unless he knows exactly which one you live in, but I'll bet he used his badge to park in the garage and might have seen it. Once he's up here, he could figure it out." Amanda thinks it over quickly. "Beth and Carl are both out. Gorman will go for the gutter easier than he'll believe anything else, especially after the spat we had at the bar."
"The gutter?" Oh, shit. Rick blinks. "You mean like Beth, because I told you that you needed to get laid?"
"Yeah. But I'm not Beth. I'm not fawning all over you like you're the last man on earth."
Sighing, Rick reaches for the buttons of his shirt, untucking it from his pants when he's done. "Beth did say it was about setting the scene."
When he looks up, Amanda's t-shirt is gone. Her bra is surprisingly feminine, a lacy blue satin one that accentuates her small breasts. She catches him staring and frowns. "Don't get excited, Grimes. They're just breasts."
Flushing, Rick looks away and runs his hands through his curls, knowing it takes very little to make his hair look like he's been up to something amorous. He snags their beer bottles and heads for the couch, setting both on the coffee table. He shrugs off his button up, letting it fall to the couch.
"Undershirt, too. Anyone making out with you is going to want you shirtless." Amanda's crisp command has him looking over at her almost worried at what he'll see. Her cheeks are flushed, and he absently complies, thinking she looks embarrassed, not aroused. Is it the situation, or her comment about his chest?
"Dammit, you don't look like you've been kissed at all," she mutters.
Rick registers what she said even as Amanda's moving toward him. Being kissed by her is initially as confusing as when Beth did it. Unlike Beth, she doesn't keep a polite distance with the rest of her body. Soft curves press against him, and he finally responds and kisses her back.
Amanda tastes of spice and faintly of the beer she's been sipping, and all of the playful kisses he's shared with Beth at the bar are nothing on this. The combination of silky soft bare skin and satin fabric against his chest makes him groan into the kiss. His body does not have the memo that this isn't real.
When he reaches up to cup her breasts through the fabric of her bra, she doesn't jerk away. It incites her to end their kiss, though, mouth finding his collarbone. He feels the distinct nip of teeth in his skin, even as he backs her to the couch. Twisting them so that he's the one sitting, she climbs astride his lap, still keeping control.
Resting against the evidence of his arousal, there's no hiding this isn't anything like the innocent false seduction Beth set up. They're crossing a line, and he doesn't care, not right now. Regret can come later. He grabs her hips and rocks their bodies together.
"You feel too damn good," he mutters, arching his neck when she goes back to that spot on his collarbone. She's marking him in a place damned difficult to hide.
Amanda groans as she raises her head up, running her hands through his hair and pressing his face to her chest. He mouths at her through the satin, making her curse. In retaliation, she goes for his belt buckle, tugging the belt free and unfastening his jeans. Having her hands so tantalizingly close to the part of him not listening about setting the scene and the clock ticking is torture.
Her hair is too neat and pristine, so he slides his hands up her bare back to steal away her hair tie. It might be a miscalculation on his part. With her hair tidied away in the sleek ponytail, she's a pretty woman, but usually seems unapproachable to him. Once he's got it scattered around her bare shoulders, she's beautiful, looking relaxed in a way he's never seen her. Her hands stroke his chest, fingers sliding through his chest hair and making him want more, even as she traces a path to his stomach.
Reaching for the clasp of her bra, he unhooks it without Amanda objecting. Instead, her fingers edge into the opening of his jeans even as he frees her from her bra and lowers his head again. This time, there's no satin barrier between him and his prize.
She curses, calls out his name, and scrabbles at his jeans, but they're too tight and their position keeps her from claiming what she's seeking. Giving up, she tangles her fingers in his hair and makes sure he pays equal attention to both breasts. When she grinds down against him, it's pain and pleasure both, trapped in his jeans the way he is. Neither of them are playing now, and he desperately wants the layers of clothing between them gone.
"Amanda," he says hoarsely. It's a plea and a warning both.
She stops the rocking movement against him, expression going cool and distant as she arches a brow. "So little control." It's said as if she's doing any better. Her pupils are blown wide, only a thin rim of green showing. But she slides off his lap, and goddammit, he regrets anything that put a stop to the best he's felt with a woman in ages.
"Boots off, deputy, or do you fuck with those on?" The cold bitchiness in the words dials back his arousal enough he feels a tendril of anger slip through the sexual frustration. It's why he deliberately stares as she sheds her bra the rest of the way into a heap on the floor by the couch.
When she notices him staring, she flushes, one arm going to cover her breasts as if he hasn't already tasted them. Satisfied that she's as uncomfortable as he is, he reaches for his boots. By the time he gets his boots off, dropping his socks beside them, the doorbell buzzes. Eyeing his pants, he debates rezipping them, but decides Gorman deserves an eyeful. Turning to Amanda, his mouth runs dry.
While he was distracted by his boots, she'd stripped down to her panties. As he watches, she slides his button up shirt on. It covers her just enough to hide the blue satin that matches her bra. Cursing Gorman's existence, Rick goes to answer the door.