Work intervenes enough in the next week that Amanda truly understands why most undercover officers don't also work their regular jobs while working their case. She can't imagine how stressful it would be for them, though, because she gets to go home to her own place every night. Not being cleared to drive herself is driving her just a little bit crazy as well, but it's just a matter of waiting out the worst of the issues with her ribs.
She's seen Rick twice, both times coming by for supper at his request. Staying the night had been far too easy both times. The sex is still spectacular, but what worries her is how much she's missed falling asleep next to someone in bed, and how easy it is to do that next to Rick. Getting attached without any commitment is something she's never, ever risked, but it's too late to look back now.
Physical therapy also keeps her busy, since the therapist has her seeing him twice a week. One session is in the rehab center's gym and another in the heated pool, with a third optional session added for her to join the senior water aerobics class on Saturdays. Wanting to use all the options afforded to her by her insurance, she does that, too.
The Saturday class after work is why Amanda is running late to meet with Rick and Shane at Rick's place, because one of the elderly ladies in the class is having a problem with petty theft at her apartment. Since she actually lives in Amanda's area, she takes a report and promises to send a patrolman to follow up. Sometimes it's as simple as a uniform being seen in the area a few times to deter less seasoned thieves.
"Rick? Can I borrow your shower?" she calls out as she lets herself in.
"You know where it is," he replies as she rounds the corner into the living area from the foyer and stops short, checking her watch. Obviously, she's later than she thought, or Shane's earlier than she expected, because the tall, wide-shouldered deputy is leaning against the breakfast bar while Rick attends something on the cooktop. Michonne is relaxed in the armchair with the footrest, with Andre playing nearby with what looks like half a toy store's worth of Legos.
Blushing a little, Amanda greets Shane and his family even as she slips behind the counter to accept the chaste kiss Rick obviously wants to give her. "Sorry. Work aligned with physical therapy."
"You are probably in the room of the most understanding people in the world for that," Rick teases, which gets a grin and a nod from Shane. "Go get your shower. Food will be done by the time you're out."
"It smells wonderful." And she knows it can't all be what's in front of Rick, which looks like some sort of homemade Mexican rice mixture that probably contains quinoa if she knows his recipe adaptations.
"Enchiladas, rice, and jicama-mango slaw. Oven's got another twenty minutes to go on the enchiladas." Rick motions toward the coffee table, where chips and dip seem to be set up. "You can see if Michonne will share her guacamole and chips."
The attorney grins, but she looks a bit tired. "Amanda's allowed, because she's polite enough not to scarf the entire bowl when I'm not looking."
The teasing banter makes Amanda smile. "Sounds perfect. I have got to get the smell of chlorine off me first, though." Normally, she would have showered at the pool, but interviewing the elderly woman had taken precedent.
In the bathroom, she sets her bag on the counter, eyeing her pool water and Georgia humidity frizzed hair with a wary eye. At least Rick is right that no one here will be frustrated by the demands of a law enforcement job, and she suspects that Michonne's job merits even weirder schedules at times. Looking forward to the meal and the company more than she expected, she strips down and takes her time enjoying Rick's all too lovely shower.
Dinner conversation is light enough that it's like any other meal where a new person meets their partner's best friend and family, she thinks. Although she's met Michonne in passing, and spoken in depth to Shane even on personal issues, it's different, seeing them all relaxed together. Just like with Naomi, Rick shows an ease with Andre that Amanda actually envies. It's not that she doesn't adore her nieces and nephews, but children baffle her until they're teenagers, for the most part.
The men and Andre slip off to Carl's room to borrow the teenager's telescope after the boy mentions learning about the planets this week at school. Left with just Michonne, Amanda tidies the kitchen, even as the tall lawyer settles on a barstool and watches her with curious eyes. "In all the time I've known Rick, you're the first woman he's dated that he's ever introduced to his family, you know."
Amanda freezes in setting the dishwasher, turning to look at Michonne. "Really? How long have you known Rick?"
"Four years." Michonne smiles, a little bit of mischief in her expression. "Did Lori never tell you who handled her side of the divorce?"
"Seriously?" She knows her sister-in-law had a shark of an attorney, but honestly, she's never been curious about who it actually was.
"Guilty as charged. I handled Carol's divorce as well. Doing pro bono work for disadvantaged women is the least I can do for the blessings life's given me professionally." Shrugging, Michonne takes a drink from her glass of lemonade. "Lori's wasn't quite the same, but a friend gave her my card, and once I knew who Rick's mother was, I figured she needed all the extra firepower she could get."
The idea makes Amanda squirm. Rick and Lori seem perfectly friendly, and Daryl certainly seems to like him, so the divorce couldn't have been too acrimonious. "Is that how you met Shane?"
"Yeah." The smile on the woman's face qualifies for the word besotted, Amanda thinks. "Andre's biological father was one of the worst mistakes I ever made. I was dead set on being a single mom and letting no man near my son."
"What changed that?" Having met Shane, Amanda can acknowledge the man has a sort of innate charm that is quite appealing.
Michonne outright laughs. "I met a cocky deputy, all caught up in the middle of his best friend's divorce. All it was at first was him buying me a coffee and explaining Rick wasn't a bad guy, just perpetually clueless when it came to women, including his wife. Then it was coffee and debating the intricacies of the law, and as soon as the divorce was signed and filed, it was coffee in bed."
"Sex is different than co-parenting, though," Amanda notes. It's one of the issues she's still on the fence about. Regardless of her future ideas about children, Rick has a child, and anything she and Rick do will affect Carl, nearly grown or not.
"I agree. At the heart of all this that intrigued me, mind and body, there's this guy who looks so completely wrong on paper for being a father, but he and my boy? Love at first sight. There's nothing in this world more important to Shane than Andre is. Not me, not Rick, not even his Grandma Jean. Probably Carl would come an extremely close second, because he loves that boy like his own, too. I think for a long time, Shane thought Carl was as close as he would ever come to fatherhood."
Thinking of all the small clues Amanda's been given about Shane growing up fatherless and later losing his mother, she supposes she understands the man better than she does Rick most days. "Sometimes the best family is the one you choose," she says, thinking of Daryl and Merle and Mama McGinley. "I can understand how Andre just knew he'd found his missing family. I felt like that the first time I ever met Daryl when I was four."
It's her first real memory, one that's foggy on the finer details, but she remembers how scared Daryl was and that he smelled faintly of smoke when she hugged him tight with all her little girl strength. When he hugged her back and cried in her arms, they weren't two strange kids with the same foster mom anymore, but family. She hopes Andre has that same sort of sense memory of knowing Shane was who was missing from his life.
"You're adopted?" Michonne sounds surprised enough that Amanda blinks in confusion, which prompts the woman to continue. "I've known Merle and Daryl a long time, since Merle started dating Carol, actually. The way they both talk about you, I suppose I just… assumed."
Amanda smiles happily at that. It's one thing to know that she and Daryl were siblings long before the law made it legally so. Merle was never formally adopted, but it's always nice to hear that the elder Dixon brother is equally attached to her being in his life. "Most people don't realize. I guess we look enough alike."
"That's Shane's biggest complaint about him and Rick. They don't look enough alike for people to not question their relation to each other. It's even more entertaining when Rick's mother is around or Shane's grandmother. Rick looks more like Jean than his mother, and Shane could pass as Evelyn's biological son, by some quirk of genetics."
It's a tidbit that makes Amanda wildly curious about Rick's mother now. There aren't any photos on display in the apartment, either by Rick's active choice or bachelor laziness toward decorating. He has a few framed candids of Carl in his office on the desk, and another on his dresser in the bedroom, but none of anyone else, not even Shane. Then again, like many modern folks, the bulk of his photos could be digital.
The fact that Michonne has at least met Rick's mother intrigues Amanda, but just like she can't manage to ask Lori about the woman, she stays silent here, too. Instead, she focuses on Michonne herself, and as she pours herself a glass of wine, she offers Michonne a glass. "Before I put it up, do you want any?"
"No, thank you. We're in the middle of a round of fertility treatments, so alcohol is firmly off the table."
Well, that makes sense why Rick didn't break out the bottle during dinner, instead putting the bottle and two glasses on the counter before Andre distracted him. It's probably why Michonne looks so tired. Amanda remembers an acquaintance from college going through the treatments, and the hormone shots alone nearly drove the other woman around the bend.
"I'm not sure I could do all that myself, when there are so many kids needing adoption," Amanda admits, knowing it's one of those things that sounds condescending even when you don't intend it to.
Luckily for her, Michonne doesn't take it as a jab. "Adoption's complicated enough with our careers, but add in us being biracial? Complicated isn't a big enough word for that."
"Are they really that stupid?" Amanda asks, frowning, but she knows it's probably true. Biracial couples are far more common these days than they were when she was young, but Shane and Michonne's pairing is one that's still practically taboo, especially in the Deep South: a black woman and a white man.
"They are exactly that stupid. Don't get me wrong. I've got plenty enough money to blow through all those barriers, and I probably will one day because I'm thirty-eight now. I don't think I can manage this whole fertility thing again, not after we've tried three other times in the last eighteen months and have nothing to show from it. But last time, I didn't get to have all the joys of pregnancy with a partner, and Christ Almighty, I just want to have that experience with Shane. Biology is just a bitch fucking with us both."
The crudity seems shocking, yet appropriate, coming from the otherwise cultured woman. Amanda thinks she understands, because it isn't fair that people that don't want children have them and abandon them all the time, while others struggle. It does add to the trickle of guilt that still sits in the back of her mind about the emergency contraception she still hasn't said a word to Rick about. She really needs to make an appointment with her gynecologist to see about some form of birth control, if they're going to keep sleeping together.
"Hopefully you can do both then, pregnancy and adoption. I think Shane might have enough energy for a whole baseball team."
Michonne laughs, nodding her head. "Lord does he ever. I think three or four might be my own limit. We'll see on Monday."
The men and Andre return, ending that line of conversation, although as Amanda watches the little family the rest of the evening, she really hopes they get good news this time.
Having Amanda over Saturday to meet Shane and Michonne without any excuses about the investigation makes Rick happier than he really has a right to be about it. Even Shane's good natured ribbing about how comfortable the woman is in Rick's apartment only added to his sense of all being right with his world. Even better, Amanda sticks around all day Sunday and doesn't seem to be heading home as evening approaches.
He does his best to ignore the sly looks he gets from Beth when she's home, and his son's happy snarky remarks when he calls while Rick's cooking supper and the teenager hears Amanda while he's on speaker. Carl loves Amanda, regardless of Rick dating her, and it's both a relief and a complication. If things go bad between them, at least he's proven he can be a mature adult after a split.
"Ow. Ow. Ow. Son of a bitch."
Amanda's pained cursing makes Rick dart a look at her as he pauses in brushing his teeth.
"What's wrong?"
Eying her own toothbrush like it's the devil itself, Amanda reaches for the cup and rinses her mouth. She barely catches the dental crown she's spit into the sink before it makes it to the drain. "Dammit. That was expensive as hell the first time around." Rinsing again, there's a fragment of tooth with the second round, and she makes a pained sound that reminds him of the first weekend after her ribs were injured while holding her jaw.
"That's not good. Does your dentist do emergency care?" he asks. It's eight on a Sunday evening, and their early intended bedtime is a courtesy to Rick's need to work tomorrow. But he really doesn't like the idea of her waiting until morning when she is in obvious pain.
"No." She glances at Rick. "I'm guessing you know one who does."
"Only because Dianne's kid knocked out a tooth last week." Heading for his phone, he looks up the contact he saved, figuring it might come in handy at some point. It's not like he hasn't needed emergency dental work due to a confrontation with a suspect before. Amanda doesn't object, so he makes the appointment.
The root canal doesn't take more than an hour, but it also tells Rick something about Amanda he wouldn't have guessed. She can't stand the dentist, to the point that she asks for and gets the work done under conscious sedation. The demerol and phenergan combination isn't anything he's ever had done, but he's been lucky to never even need the gas for his rare dental work.
After, he takes her home and tucks her into his bed with the deep satisfaction that every time pain medication makes her loopy, she focuses such open affection on him. Stolen kisses, groping that slides between affectionate and almost serious, and goofy statements about the things she likes about him; he likes it all. It's wrong to enjoy it so much, he knows, except that it gives him such hope that she's going to trust him enough to give him a real chance one of these days.
Rick considers taking a sick day off work, until he realizes Amanda would probably kick his ass before doing another runner. This isn't as serious as the recovery after the shooting, and even then, she hadn't wanted him hovering. Instead, he preps smoothies for the fridge and makes her scrambled eggs for breakfast.
As she sits at the breakfast bar clad in nothing but panties and one of his old t-shirts, he can't resist a goodbye that peppers kisses along her throat since her mouth is still damned sore from the dental surgery. "Could you stay again tonight?" he asks, promising himself that he's going to finally talk to her about where this thing between them is going.
"I will," she promises, and he believes her. Leaving her curled on the couch under an afghan to work her way through his DVR, he goes to work with far more enthusiasm than a cop really should have on a Monday.
It doesn't jinx him, at least. Shane's gone for the morning, but when he does appear in Rick's office doorway a little after one, the younger man is grinning so hard it looks painful. He shuts the door behind him. "Second positive test, Rick," he manages to get out. "We've never gotten two before."
Rick's out of his seat and giving his brother a bear hug like none other before he can manage a reply. "That's so fucking great, Shane."
The problem with living in King County after Shane moved up here is that the bulk of Shane and Michonne's experience with the fertility clinic has been when Rick was too far away to do something as simple as hug Shane when things got overwhelming. It feels right, to be here today, after all Shane did when he had his own issues to sort out.
Shane's face is pressed into Rick's shoulder as he mutters roughly. "We aren't out of the woods yet, and I cannot even imagine if something goes wrong. But she's pregnant."
Once Shane finally lets him go and sinks into one of the visitor's chairs, while Rick takes the one beside him. "I'm guessing no one else will know until after the first trimester?" he asks.
"Well, Michonne will probably tell Andrea at work, in case something comes up, and she's cool with Amanda knowing so you don't have to keep it to yourself. We'll wait that long to tell Andre, because he's been wanting a little brother or sister for a long time." Shane's quiet, mulling something over. "I got her to promise to me that it's the last time, you know. If things don't work, we can adopt or try a surrogate. Those meds, man, they make her so damned messed up sometimes."
"What's she think about that?" Rick may have missed the last few times the couple went through this, but he's seen it up close now: the stress, fear, and hope.
"I think she's okay with it now. I mean, she knows I don't care about any biological shit, Rick. Made that pretty damn clear to her from the beginning." He sighs and runs a hand through his hair. The tousled curls and the naked hope on his face makes him look twenty again instead of nearly forty. "I wish it was me that was the problem. I'd get that sperm donor catalog from the clinic in a heartbeat and not care one damn bit as long as she got a baby as the end result."
The reality of what he's just said sets in, and Shane reaches out. "Jesus. Sorry about that, brother."
Rick waves it off. "I understand, you know. It wouldn't matter to me, either."
"You even told Amanda yet?" It's funny how Shane knows he hasn't, because his brother continues before Rick can even shake his head. "That's a conversation you need to be having soon, Rick. I know how deep you are right now with her, and I wouldn't be surprised if it's mutual. She's that type of woman."
"I'm afraid talking about kids will send her running for the hills. She's pretty focused on her career right now."
"Most working women are, but it's still a conversation to be having. I know Michonne having Andre made it easy to talk about it early on for us, but Jesus, Rick, me and her discussed kids a month in."
Rick starts to protest it hasn't been that long, but closes his mouth as he does the mental tally. He's been in Atlanta since the end of July, and it's September twenty-third now. Hell, it's been a full month since Amanda stayed the night because of Joan, and if anything vaulted them out of simply being friends and partners, that morning together did, and two weeks of sleeping together fairly regularly definitely cements the idea in place.
"I'll talk to her sometime this week. She had to have a root canal last night, so I'm not sure tonight's the night for a talk about the fact that I probably can't give her kids if she wants them."
It's taken him years to be able to say that out loud, to acknowledge that Carl's likely his only biological child. But he can admit it now, has to, because ignoring the problem is one of the myriad of reasons that his marriage died a slow, painful death. He will always love Lori, and Naomi's as dear to him as Andre is, but he'll never be able to look at his ex-wife with her daughter and not remember how stubborn he'd been.
"You could always go finish the testing, you know. You don't know for sure that you can't." Shane straightens in his chair. "Having the surgery and then not the followup? I thought it was pretty stupid to only go halfway."
"Honestly, I was afraid to find out it was all for nothing," Rick admits. The funny part is, he knows Amanda's aware of the scars, because she's got a habit of running her fingers across his lower abdomen when they're in bed together. But she's never asked about them, and him bringing it up means admitting he didn't finish the medical testing he should have had done.
"And it wasn't important as long as you were making up for being such a geek back in college." Shane's tone is teasing. He's never criticized Rick for the serial dating he did after the divorce. In fact, he practically encouraged it, although Rick doesn't think Shane meant for him to get stuck on coeds. The few blind dates Shane arranged were at least women in their mid-twenties.
They both laugh, just a little, but Shane's humor fades. "I'm going to send you the information for the clinic. Make a damn appointment and find out, Rick. Do it as a favor for me, okay?"
"Alright, I will."
Shane's presence in the building has become known, because a knock at the door interrupts them. Even after work spirits him away, Shane doesn't forget. It's not the contact information that arrives in his personal email half an hour later. It's an appointment for September thirtieth at the clinic.
It's a good choice, because Rick probably would have procrastinated. But now the appointment is made, and it's like a promise he can't break. When he gets home, and Amanda's adorably grumpy because of being restricted to soft foods while craving something more substantial, he feels the resolve settle even more.
Shane's right that he needs to tell her. It's not that he thinks she'll abandon him no matter what the outcome of the testing is, but that appointment at least buys him just a little more time. He'll tell her as soon as he knows a better answer than 'I don't know' and 'I was too chicken to find out' because neither of those answers fits his life anymore with her in it.
A/N: Some of the content of the chapter is revived from a barely there infertility backstory of Rick's in RBM that deserved a bit more than a footnote of such a larger story.