The tiny pessimistic voice in the back of Rick's mind grows quieter with each hour Amanda stays. It's a quiet, domestic weekend, the kind he didn't understand he should enjoy back when he was married, until half his weekends were spent completely alone. Their time together started off with pretty amazing sex, but since then, it's just been a sort of quiet cuddling and a lot of leisurely kisses.
She wasn't prepared for a full weekend here, but doesn't seem to have cared that she's wearing his clothes, even after he ran her uniform pants, panties, and socks through the wash. Her uniform shirt, undershirt, and sports bra were all pretty much unsalvageable. He almost offered to run her over to her apartment, or to just go himself if she wanted to trust him with her keys, but that was the one part of the pessimism that stayed. Mention her own apartment, and she might leave.
Now it's getting toward time to start supper on Sunday afternoon. She's sitting at the kitchen island, watching him in amusement as he carries a basket of folded laundry to Carl's room. When he returns, he pauses on the kitchen side of the island, arching a brow. "What's so funny?"
"Just a little odd, seeing you doing laundry. I guess I figured you'd send it downstairs, to be honest."
Rick shrugs, understanding the expectation. "I do send my dry cleaning and Carl's school uniforms down, but it's easier to just do the rest myself. If things get busy at work, it's nice to have the option for the laundry service if I need it, I suppose."
Honestly, without owning a house he's living in, his household chores are pretty slim. There's no lawncare and no maintenance. He doesn't even take advantage of the service to tend the balcony greenery, since he's capable of trimming back bushes and making sure they get enough water.
"Find anything you want to do for supper?" he asks, changing the subject to the cookbook she's been studying. He's cooked for them all weekend, but tonight she asked to help. "If we don't have all the ingredients, I can run downstairs pretty quickly."
"Are you in the mood for vegetarian tonight?" She has one finger caught in one spot in the book while she looks at another recipe.
Last night, they'd had honey garlic shrimp, and Friday night had been a pasta dish with chicken. "Sounds good."
"Alright, then this one." She spins the cookbook, letting him see the eggplant rollatini recipe. "Show me how to make it?"
The idea of cooking alongside her, especially teaching, appeals in a way that makes Rick grin. "How serious do you want to get with it?" he asks, pointing to the recipe just calling for two cups of marinara sauce.
"Sure, let's make all of it then, if you know how."
"I'll need to run downstairs for about half of this, but it won't take long."
"Anything I can start? I'm a fair hand with chopping veggies and prep. It's the cooking part that gets too complicated sometimes."
Rick goes to the two-tier basket on the counter where he keeps the fruits and vegetables that aren't refrigerated and counts out five Roma tomatoes before including the sixth since it'll be a leftover. "Chop those up. Doesn't have to look pretty, since it'll go in the food processor to pulse down to salsa consistency."
She's familiar enough with the kitchen from watching him cook that she moves easily to find the cutting board and a knife. Stealing a quick kiss, he snags his wallet, slips on shoes, and makes the trip downstairs to the market next door. It doesn't take long to gather up the extra ingredients. One of the reasons he liked this building was the market downstairs, because buying a week's worth of food in his line of work is a guarantee the fresh food will spoil on a busy week.
"This look good?" Amanda asks as he returns, emptying the shopping bag of its contents.
"Yeah." He sets a saute pan on the stove and adds the olive oil. "Two tablespoons, thereabouts. You know how to mince garlic?"
"Squish it in the press." She finds the garlic press easily, and her assent makes him chuckle as she starts taking garlic cloves out of the counter basket. "How much?"
"Two for this, and we'll need two for the other, if you want to go ahead with that." When she brings him the dish, he tips half of it into the saute pan. "Cook for about a minute. Just enough to make it start really smelling good. Pass me the tomatoes?"
Amanda hands over the bowl from the food processor and watches as he pours it in. "We'll bring this to a boil, then slow to a simmer. We'll need to slice the eggplant and salt them just a bit. I usually use a mandolin to make the slices even. You want to do that or keep an eye on the sauce?"
"Why this kind of pan? Not a saucepan?" She steps up to the saute pan, giving it a little stir.
"More surface helps the liquid evaporate faster. Grandma Jean swears it makes the fresh tomato taste better, too, but she also says it'll make an actual Italian cook shudder because it cooks too fast. If I was making the sauce for pasta, I would add in some onion and red pepper flakes, but since it's going with the rollatini, it doesn't need as much of its own kick."
He retrieves the mandoline, making quick work of creating the long, thin strips of eggplant. Salting them and setting them aside to rest, he eyes the sauce. "A lot of people use fresh herbs, but I've never tried to keep the plants like Grandma Jean does. I found frozen works okay, too."
"Why can I picture you with a row of little plants in here?" Amanda teases, smiling.
Rick just smiles back. "Maybe over by the balcony, one of these days. Until now, dried basil will have to make do. Most recipes use oregano, but basil makes it a bit sweeter, without adding sugar." He sprinkles some in as she reduces the heat to a simmer. "Now that simmers a while. Just needs a stir now and then."
The rest of the eggplant rollatini is easy enough to assemble, sauteing the minced garlic onion with chopped zucchini while the eggplant bakes in the oven. Amanda does that while he mixes the shredded mozzarella, ricotta, and Parmesan with the basil and egg white and preheats the oven. Mixing those together finishes up just as the marinara does.
"Half the marinara in the baking dish," he tells her, keeping only half an eye on that as he spoons the zucchini mixture onto a slice of eggplant and rolls it up to put in the baking dish. She watches him make a second one before joining him. Two hands make quick work, so he covers the eggplant rolls with the rest of the marinara and layers sliced mozzarella on top before popping it in the oven. "Twenty minutes until done."
"And what can we do in twenty minutes?" she asks.
It turns out, the twenty minutes until the oven timer bings is perfect for a slow exploration of each other on the couch. He thought that the heated makeout session to fool Gorman had been enticing, but it's nothing on this. Supper proves a diversion, but they manage to finish what they started on the couch when they shower, still taking care due to her injuries to avoid full on sex.
Waking next to her Monday morning makes him wish he didn't have to go to work. She's propped on the nest of pillows that make a slight incline to ease her ribs while she sleeps. Although she doesn't have to be up early, he isn't surprised when she's awake when he comes out of the bathroom after getting mostly ready.
"Good morning," he says softly, rounding the bed to kiss her softly. "I gotta get ready and head out. You sure you're going to be okay taking cabs today? Beth could maybe help you get your car from work and get it home. Her last class ends at three." The girl hadn't returned to the apartment last night, texting she was staying at the dorm after getting back from her parents'.
"Doesn't she have to work tonight?" Amanda yawns, watching sleepily as he moves around the room to his dresser to put on cologne. "And that's where you keep it. I was wondering?"
Rick glances at the cologne bottle and laughs as he settles in back in the lidded box on top of his dresser alongside the other bottles. "It's best stored away from light, thus the box. But yeah, she has to be at work by five."
Amanda doesn't raise any further objections, so he sneaks another kiss. "Good luck today. Call me if you wanna bitch about finicky shrinks." She laughs, and he's on his way to get his Monday started. A part of him wants to ask her to come back to the apartment after taking care of her appointment and getting her car back to her apartment, but he knows if he presses, she's even more likely to run.
He can handle time on his own. Maybe next weekend will be long enough not to spook her with another invitation.
It's a little surprising how reluctant Amanda is to get out of bed once Rick leaves the room, carrying his suit jacket. After a weekend of seeing him in casual clothing, seeing him back in trousers and a dress shirt makes her think she's got a kink for that particular outfit on him. Considering it's what he was wearing on Friday, she supposes it makes sense.
She's half dozing on the pillows when she realizes he's back in the room, this time with a lap tray. He gives her an almost shy, boyish smile. "You mentioned breakfast in bed Friday night, but you went into the kitchen with me both mornings."
"You cooked on a work morning?" Breakfast is the one thing Amanda doesn't have tucked in her freezer thanks to Carol's help. It usually means a muffin on the way out the door, on work days, at least. Eating with Rick here had meant Greek yogurt oat pancakes on Saturday and whole wheat cinnamon rolls on Sunday. Those had been one of Jean's adapted recipes, cooked from frozen that the elderly woman had given him. Rick swears baking isn't in his skillset.
"Prepped ahead and frozen," he admits. "Sometimes it's easier to make more than one. Quesadilla with egg whites, spinach, mushroom, and cheese." There are scattering of mixed berries on the plate as well.
She doesn't have to take a deep breath to know it is going to taste wonderful, even though the tortilla looks to be something that probably isn't white flour and the cheese will be low-fat. Although she's never seen Rick drink coffee, there's a cup on her tray, just like he's made for her with his little glass coffee gadget that looks like it belongs in a chemistry lab.
"Where is yours?" she asks, cupping the mug of coffee and enjoying the aroma. Whatever his blend is, it doesn't need sugar or cream, and it's spoiling her.
"Ate while I was getting yours ready. I really do have to go."
Amanda initiates the kiss this time, careful not to muss his hair. He tastes of peppermint, probably from whatever tea he made while waiting on her coffee. Waiting until he's almost out the bedroom door, before she can change her mind, she calls out, "Stay safe out there."
Dear God, the smile he gives her is blinding and tugs at a place deep in her heart. He nods, disappearing with that quiet efficiency he always moves with.
Breakfast doesn't take long, nor does tidying away her dishes or figuring out something that passes for dressed enough to take a cab. Luckily, she's got free rein on borrowing Rick's shirts, so she layers a tank top style undershirt under a dark t-shirt to hide her lack of a bra. Although there are hours left before she has to be at the department shrink's office, she feels restless in his apartment alone.
Once she reasonably thinks Beth is awake, she texts the girl. For Rick to suggest it, Beth probably brought it up first, and she doesn't want to hurt Beth's feelings. The perky reply makes her smile, even as she takes the elevator down to meet her cab. While having Rick help her with the car after work is an option, they really shouldn't overlap in case of Gorman's buddies seeing them together. It's something she considers even with Beth, so she hasn't decided about asking her even when she gets back to her apartment.
Everything is in order when she gets home, but that's to be expected. The joys of a pet like Tanith is that she's low maintenance compared to more common pets. She's been just fine on her own for a few days, since she usually eats once every two weeks and can go longer between eggs without starving.
"Hey, pretty girl." Amanda locates Tanith as she checks out the vivarium, making sure everything is in working order. The little snake peers out from where she's tucked in one of her hiding places, obviously expecting to be fed. Dropping a quail egg in doesn't take long either, and Amanda goes to strip away her oddly matched clothes.
Wearing Rick's clothes all weekend has given her mixed feelings. When Luke lived here, she never really felt the urge to borrow one of his t-shirts, and she certainly hadn't worn his boxers for shorts. Granted, she doesn't think Rick's ever donned either of the pairs he loaned her, the rubber ducky themed ones or the ones with the dancing Christmas trees, but still… they're his.
After a shower, she eases her way into a nice set of black slacks and a blouse. She could show up to the shrink's in jeans and a t-shirt, but it just seems weird while doing something for work. Doing what housework that can't wait and her ribs allow kills enough time for it to be late enough for a quick lunch before taking a cab to get the shrink visit out of the way.
The visit is relatively pain free, as is her check in with the lieutenant, who confirms she's cleared with the department to return to limited duty based on her medical assessment. Texting Rick that she's done and clear on all fronts, she doesn't expect him to call right away, not when he's working.
But her phone rings just as the cab arrives to whisk her away from the front of the fancy building the shrink has her offices in. She gives her address before answering. "Hey. Slow day?"
Rick chuckles. "The sort of slow that makes you know you can't avoid the paperwork backup. I can't complain that any thefts over the weekend were made by people too stupid to avoid getting caught, right?"
"I used to complain about those, because it didn't seem worth the paperwork, but at least they make the public happy." Scenery zips by as the cabbie navigates the early afternoon traffic.
"It also makes the bosses happy. The ones who don't slog through the paperwork, anyway." There's speaking in the background, but Rick doesn't cover the phone to reply that he'll be down in a few. "Sorry. Apparently, there's birthday cake in the building."
Amanda finds herself smiling. "Am I keeping you from getting an afternoon sugar rush? Might be a flavor you like, you know."
"I doubt that. Always seems like office cakes are chocolate or vanilla of some sort."
"And you like lemon and berries and everything with a bite to it."
That gets her a full on laugh. "You've got me all figured out. I don't care much for most cake icing, but give me Grandma Jean's lemon pound cake, and I feel like I could eat the whole thing in one sitting. She used to serve it up to me and Shane at least once a month when we were kids. Got anything that tempting for you?"
Amanda absorbs the favorite cake information and mulls over her answer. It would be easiest to say chocolate, and it's such a mundane answer no one ever questions it. But Rick's ability to answer any question with such background tidbits like his favorite cake makes her take a leap of faith yet again where he's concerned. "Fairy cakes. My adoptive mother taught me to make them when I was still so small I had to stand on a stool to help."
"Can't say that I've ever had them," Rick replies. He's walking now, because she can hear the background sounds changing. "Maybe you can teach me, although Grandma Jean declared me pretty helpless at baking."
"Maybe I should ask her just how bad you are at it first."
He makes an amused noise, then sighs a little. "I gotta go. Deputy Chief is headed my way with that 'I need to talk' expression."
She bids him farewell, and the timing is good because she's reached her apartment. Beth will be out of class in an hour, and she'd forgotten Beth's getting rides from the undercover deputy. Even though Shane's reasonably certain that Gorman's lost interest in Beth, the Sheriff made him leave Tara in place for now. Amanda suspects that Tara is probably doing a bit of investigating of her own. She would, in the same position.
Facing the quiet apartment makes her truly unsettled for the first time since Luke left. It probably isn't a coincidence that she's thought more of her ex-boyfriend in the month or so since she met Rick. Luke wasn't a bad man, because they never would have made it three years, most of that living together, if he had been.
But the sweet and gentle music teacher hadn't been able to handle her career in the end. Not the day to day of it. He handled the shift work with aplomb and even the overtime. It had been the other time she got shot that ended things. A week into not having Bob Lamson as her partner, a ricocheted bullet landed her in the emergency room to get seven stitches in her lower left calf. That had been the one reality Luke couldn't handle.
Facing her own bedroom window, she thinks about Rick's very different reaction and something warm burrows right inside her carefully protected heart. Before she can second guess herself, she pulls a spare duffel bag out of her closet and packs a few things. She isn't yet ready to be home alone, not when Rick so obviously resisted the urge to ask her to stay again.
Heading down to meet Beth and Tara, she realizes the stairs here would be hell if she stays. Beth quirks an eyebrow at the fact that she's got the duffel, but just smiles and surprises Amanda by settling a college ball cap on her head and popping into the driver's seat after introducing them. "I figured with y'all concerned about the asshole or his buddies seeing me, best to let Tara help move your car. I'll just follow y'all back to your place."
Tara motions Amanda to the front seat after letting her put the duffel in the back, relaxing into the back of the tiny hatchback car. "I tell you one thing, Shepherd, I will be glad to have my truck back. This thing is like driving a sardine can."
Amanda just smiles at the dark haired woman. "Once you get used to Atlanta traffic, you may want it back."
"I'll take it up with Major Walsh then, but I figure on getting me a place out in the sticks. No sense deliberately subjecting myself to traffic in the long run."
The two younger women chat easily, since they have Tara actually taking classes that overlap Beth's just enough for comfort and not enough to look weird. It's actually soothing to hear them talking about everyday things like college classes, even though she knows why they know each other at all. Amanda lets herself doze until they reach the station, slipping out of the car when Beth finds a spot in the main lot.
Tara bids the blonde goodbye, following Amanda to her car. Conversation with the young deputy is the usual sort for two cops who've just met, with an added helping of advice for a rookie. When they get Amanda's car parked, Tara looks around curiously. "Will your car be okay here?"
"Yeah. Downstairs neighbor is retired. She'll keep a very nosy eye out."
The girls drop Amanda by Rick's building without any comment from either about the destination. Sore and achy from the level of movement, she takes some ibuprofen, eases out of the clothes bra she braved for her meeting, and climbs back into bed in little more than another of Rick's t-shirts and panties. Sleep comes fast, with her briefly wondering if maybe she should hold off on office duty at least a few days longer.
Coming home to the quiet apartment makes Rick sigh, just a little. He knows Beth will be back later tonight, since she texted him earlier in the day that she would need a ride after work. But that'll be practically bedtime, so he's got an entire evening alone to look forward to.
Maybe he should get a dog. There's a dog walking service in the building, and while he couldn't adopt one of the dog fighting ring dogs due to their breed, he knows the animal shelters are always full. Filing it away as something to look into, he heads toward the bedroom to put away his jacket, tie, and work shoes, only to stop short.
Almost as if she never left the apartment today at all, Amanda's sound asleep on the pile of pillows. She's wearing a different t-shirt than this morning, and he can see a substantial duffel bag sitting on the bench at the end of the bed. Amanda left - and she came back.
Putting away his duty weapon and backup in the gun safe in the bedroom, he debates just slipping in bed with her, but she probably doesn't need to sleep much longer. Instead, he hangs up his jacket and discards his tie. His movements wake her, like he expected, and he can tell when she's uncertain of her decision to come back.
"Do you know that I'm seeing the best thing I've seen since seven a.m. right now?" It makes her smile, even as he crawls onto the bed to claim a kiss he's tempted to amp up from chaste. "How are you feeling?"
"Sore," she admits. "Lot of in and out of cars, plus I really didn't think about the stairs at my apartment."
"No need for stairs here," he remarks. That can't be the reason she came back, because he knows enough about her personality by now to know she would tough it out or go to Daryl and Lori's if she couldn't.
"The elevator is quite nice." She reaches up to play with the buttons of his shirt. "Did your day stay boring and paperwork filled?"
"Mostly. Had someone steal a labradoodle out of a backyard. Damn thing qualifies as felony theft, did you know?"
"Expensive pet. Did they find the dog?"
"Caught the idiot on security camera, but no, we haven't found them yet. Just a matter of time once it goes on social media, though. People get really worked up about stealing dogs. Worse than taking someone's car."
It takes him a minute to realize that Amanda's unbuttoning his shirt, since she's being a bit sneaky about it. His body gets on board with the idea of her getting his clothes off pretty quickly, so he slips a hand under the covers, finding bare hip and a barely there scrap of panties. Smoothing his hand along her flat belly further upward makes her stop unbuttoning to drag him down for a kiss.
They haven't had sex of any caliber since Saturday morning's attempt that definitely hurt her ribs. He pulls back long enough to ask, "You sure?"
"Yeah."
Rick nods and stands up, shedding clothes with ease, her intent expression on each bit of revealed skin more enticing than he thought it would be. He returns to the bed to find she's eased her pillows away enough to lay down. Since she's leaving the t-shirt in place, he just slides it up, nuzzling at her skin while one of her hands tangles in his curls and the other strokes along what part of his back she can reach.
The weekend of teasing each other is catching up with him. Searching her expression for any sign of pain, he sees only arousal as he reaches for a condom.
"I'm fine, Rick," she mutters softly, sounding a little frustrated. "Not gonna break. Please don't act like I will, dammit."
There's an undercurrent of something in her voice, an anxiety he doesn't like, so he picks up the pace. It lets him concentrate on following her request, keeping braced on his forearms even as he rests his forehead on hers. "Feels too good. You're so goddamn strong." She's no delicate flower, her body taking as much from his as it yields to it.
She's climaxing, body surging against his briefly as she makes a high pitched cry of his name. It takes him a little longer, but he finally tumbles after her. Finally, Rick raises up to kiss her gently, although his shoulders are starting to cramp, so it's brief as he carefully rolls to lay beside her and dispose of the condom. She's smiling a little bemusedly when he returns to his side, idly stroking his hand along all the bare skin on display below where her t-shirt is puddled along the top of her chest. Her response is like a contented cat, shifting beneath his touch.
"That was worth waiting for," he tells her.
"It was."
Before he can ask her about what she'd said, that note of anxiety, her phone rings. Groaning, she eyes it with distaste, so he reaches for it to save her the stretch on her injured side. "Uh oh. It's Merle."
Amanda's eyes light up. "If he's calling, it's the baby."
Her excitement makes him smile, so Rick relaxes beside her as she has the short conversation with her brother, confirming her theory. It doesn't take long before she's hanging up.
"Carol went to the hospital this morning, but they didn't want to call everyone down until it was closer to time." She's trying to get up, so Rick offers himself to brace against, even as she holds a pillow to her ribs to make the attempt. "Doctor says within the hour."
She goes hunting for clothes in her bag, so Rick reaches for his discarded boxer briefs. "Need a ride?"
It makes her pause, and she blinks at him for a minute, green eyes intent. But finally she nods. "Yeah. Thank you."
Rick just smiles as he pulls on jeans and a shirt, because she might be leaving his bed in a hurry, but this time, it's for joyful reasons and not fear. He'll figure out what was bothering her another time, because today? Amanda's family is about to get larger by the addition of a very important new person.
A/N: Okay, this was not supposed to be a smut chapter, but they had other ideas near the end. Edited for FFnet rating - full chapter on Ao3.
Poor Carol, at least next chapter is a guarantee of that baby finally arriving, right?
My middle child got to play chef's consultant for his mama for this chapter. Due to an allergy to garlic and onions (all alliums, truly), I can't handle either item at all. I live vicariously through writing about yummy food with garlic, I swear it... while my kids refer to me as Mama Vampire. 😂