I wanted to give thanks, again, to all those that have read, favorited, followed, and left reviews :) Since it's been taking me longer to get these updates out, I decided to give you all a better idea as to when I will update this story which will be every two weeks AT THE MOST, but if I get a chapter done early, then yay for all of us. I hope you guys enjoy!
Chapter Seven: Prelude to a Kiss
"You okay?" Morgan asked.
"Couldn't possibly be any better," Rick replied
A waitress came to Rick and Morgan's table and filled both their cups with more coffee. Her hair was half out of a messy bun and her mascara ran down the left side of her cheek. Rick took a sip, burning his tongue in the process, sat it back down, and picked at his ham and cheese sandwich.
"Bad day?" Rick took his eyes off his sandwich and looked up at Morgan. The other man wasn't addressing him, but the waitress picking up his plate. "Chloe?" Morgan squinted his eyes while reading her name tag.
The woman sighed and wiped her hand on her apron, her nail polished was chipped, and her middle finger was massaging a hangnail. "My boyfriend broke up with me," she confessed sullenly.
"I'm sorry about that," Morgan said. Rick eyed Morgan who leaned forward toward Chloe to hear more about her heartache.
"Don't be, he was an asshole. Oh No! I'm so sorry," the woman's eyes widen realizing she swore in front of customers, "I didn't mean to say that."
"No, it's quite alright. We men can be assholes most of the time." Morgan grinned and gave her a wink making her blush. Rick gazed wander between the both of them and then back to his unappetizing sandwich, picking it up, and taking a bite from it. The sandwich was lukewarm in his mouth, and the cheese tasted like rubber. He swallowed another gulp of coffee to wash it down.
"Its just when he's nice. He's really nice, you know what I mean," she said. Morgan nodded and drank from his cup. "But, he's not the settling down type."
"You'll find the right man in no time," the woman beamed at Morgan's words.
"You have anything else?" Rick asked pointing to his plate. The sandwich wasn't going to cut it, Chloe glanced at his pitiful sandwich and mouthed sorry, grabbing the plate from the table.
"Our special today is a Chipotle Bacon Cheeseburger, would you like that?"
"That'll be great," Chloe frowned at his curt manners.
"I'll let the cook know and bring it up as soon as possible." She smiled warmly at Morgan and left their table. It seemed as if Morgan's words put an extra perk in her walk as she left their table.
"I don't think you are okay," Morgan stated matter-of-factly.
Rick shook his head and peered out the window, it being a Friday, the small shopping center was packed with people preparing for the weekend.
"Listen, everything is fine. You're almost in the clear," Morgan said.
Morgan and another detective questioned Rick for half an hour about the incident between him and the newly deceased Ed Peletier. Going over backwards and forwards each moment that Rick could recall. They then reassured Rick that he wasn't a suspect, but Rick didn't like how closely tied he was to the murder.
"Great," he said gruffly. Rick saw out the window, the young black mother with her child from the other day, the child was being fussy and wiggling her way out of her mother's hands while the mother carried several bags of groceries.
"We'll be getting the time of death later in the day. That will confirm you weren't anywhere near the victim and Shane," Rick's eyes briefly cut towards Morgan at the mention of his friend's name. "He backed up what you told us in an official report."
Rick rolled his eyes and looked back out the window, the mother stopped in the middle of the lot to readjust the bags she had in her hand and it appeared that she was telling her squirming toddler to behave. I wonder if Andre ever gave Michonne that much trouble, Rick thought. He doubt it, Michonne had an amazing ability to be get the kids to listen to whatever she said.
"I'll be back." Rick moved past the waitress that was bringing his food to the table and walked out the door. As soon as he stepped outside, the little girl broke from her mom's hand and ran across the lot.
"VALENCIA!" The mother yelled, dropping her groceries. Rick saw that the tot was about to run into incoming traffic and sprinted across the lot. Putting his hands out in an effort to make several cars stop, Rick managed to reach the toddler first, scooping her up, and getting out of the way.
"Hey now where ya think you're going, sweetie?" The little girl stared at Rick, her confusion turned into a smile. They played a bit of a staring game until she turned to her frantic mother that was running towards them.
"Jesus, Jesus, Jesus. Baby," the young mother was shaking, removing her braids from out of her face. Rick gently handed Valencia over to the mother who clung to her daughter, holding her close to her chest despite the toddler's movements. When she looked at Rick she had tears in her eyes and grabbed his hand.
"Thank you so much. Thank you, sir," she gasped.
"Its fine," Rick wiped the sweat from his forehead, "I think you need some help with those groceries." The woman lightly laughed and nodded. They walk back to where she dropped her groceries. Rick grabbed her bags while she opened up her car door and placed her still squirming toddler in the car seat.
"Stop it now," she demanded of Valencia and then reached in a diaper bag and pulled out a sippy cup. She handed it to Valencia and turned to Rick. "Let me pop open the trunk there."
While Rick waited, the little girl turned around and tilted her head to the side, mischievously smiling at Rick. If Michonne and I would've had a child, she would be it. Suddenly the trunk popped open obscuring Valencia's face. With it opened, Rick neatly put the woman's groceries in it.
"Thank you again, umm…" the woman stood at the side of her car.
"Rick Grimes," he replied.
"I feel like I heard your name before."
Rick shrugged, "Mhm, I'm the Sheriff's Deputy."
"Oh, well my name's Jordyn," she stuck out her hand for Rick to shake, he took it. "I can't thank you enough."
"Again, no need. I know what it's like, my little girl—," Rick paused. "My son," he said and then chuckled, "use to be everywhere except where I told him to be. Tell him to stay put and he'll go missing. Tell him to wait so that daddy can grab wet wipes and I'd come back seeing poop all over the place."
Jordyn laughed hard and Rick smiled. He actually surprise himself that he was still able to be funny. He observed Jordyn, she had a pretty smile, her lips were wearing a bold shade of red that was pleasant against her brown skin, and the rest of her makeup was light.
"So you had it bad?" She asked.
"Yes ma'am. I did."
"She's usually well-behaved, but it is so time for a nap, right?" She said towards her daughter who shook her head.
"How old is she?"
"Two, almost twenty," Jordyn joked.
"She's beautiful," Rick stared at her and had a sudden desire to kiss this complete stranger. Maybe it was the hair or her smile. But from the change in her expression, Rick realize he was starting to creep her out.
"Sorry for leering," he sheepishly ran his fingers through his hair and took a step back. "You remind me of someone."
"An ex?"
"Something like that. You have a good day Jordyn," he said, putting more distance between them. He didn't know why that desire came from, but it wasn't good.
"Thank you again," she called out. Rick gave her a wave and nod and jogged back to the diner.
"You're no murderer, Rick," Morgan said as Rick sat back down at their table. Rick didn't answer because he knew that statement was false. He'd lost count a long time ago the number of people he had to kill.
Rick picked up his burger, the bottom bun was a little soggy which didn't deter him from taking a bite. The taste was an improvement from the ham and cheese, but not by much.
"Do you think you're a murderer?"
"Are you not hungry?" Rick snipped, he was growing bothered by the fact that he was the only one eating.
"Jenny has me on a diet," Morgan replied laughing. "No greasy burgers for me." Rick kept chewing and looked out the window again. Right by the window was Chloe, she was puffing on a cigarette and talking on the phone. She alternated between smoking, making wild gestures with her hand, and wiping tears from her face.
"Are you upset with me?" Morgan's eyebrows were furrowed as his focus was entirely on Rick.
"Why would I be?" Rick shrugged, he had no reason to be mad at Morgan, but he was increasingly becoming irritated being in his presence.
"You didn't answer the question?" Morgan drank the rest of his coffee and folded his used napkin, placing the spoon on top of it.
Rick cracked his neck, he felt like he was being interrogated again. "No," he said wiping his hands on a napkin.
"It's just, I noticed that woman you helped looked like her." Rick shook his head, he didn't want to talk to Morgan about her. "I can't apologize enough that I couldn't provide you with good news about Michonne," he said. Rick pushed his plate away, the scent of the meat and chipotle was starting to make him sick. "Rick talk to me. I might not be Shane, but I'm your friend. I'm here for you."
"There's nothing to talk about."
"Last night—"
"Then you know we don't have shit to talk about," Rick retorted. He felt the anger bubbling, he clenched his fists and tried to dial it back. Morgan didn't respond and when Chloe came back, hair even messier and more mascara running down her face, she no longer had that perk and quietly cleaned off their table.
Rick pulled out his wallet, "I got it," Morgan stated, but Rick put a ten on the table.
"You've done enough," Rick's expression soften, "and I thank you."
Morgan gave him a small smile, but he still pulled out an extra ten and placed it on the table.
"For Chloe," he explained. Both men got up from the table and headed for the police station.
"We're in burning crosses territory," Christie muttered. They were stuck in grass by the side of the road after Christie tried to avoid a turtle crossing the road. Christie stepped on the pedal again, but the sound of the wheels spinning let them both know they weren't going anywhere.
"Stop." Michonne sighed and looked out the window, it was bright and sunny, and the highway they were on was vacant. "We need to put some traction under the wheels," she said. Getting out of the car, Michonne stepped into fresh mud that coated her black combat boots she wore. "Christie, watch out for—"
"SHIT! My Manolos," Christie screamed out. Michonne turned towards her on the other side of the car and tried to contain her laughter.
"For the mud," Michonne finished. I have some rain boots in the trunk." Michonne closed the door and walked over to driver's side of the car, inspecting the front wheel.
Christie leapt to a dry patch in the grass, "this is so your fault," she called out, slowly stepping and leaping from dry patch to dry patch as she made her way to the trunk.
"Considering you're the driver, it's technically your fault," Michonne quipped. Christie's antics and being stuck were a small amusement for her, putting her mind at ease that she was about to head into King's County. Michonne bent down and saw that the front wheel was coated in mud. "Some sticks and cloth should get us out," she said, standing back up and wiping her hands. "Is there a towel back there as well?"
"Hold on, eww," Christie whined. Michonne rolled her eyes.
"I'm going to find some sticks or pieces of wood." Even though it was late July the air was actually getting chillier. She walked back to her side and pulled out a cardigan. Her phone dropped from her purse onto the floor. Picking it up, she viewed the messages that Mike left.
CALL ME!
MICH, CALL ME NOW!
Michonne grew alarm at the urgency in his texts, seeing that Christie was busy cleaning her shoes. Michonne began walking towards a wooded area, looking for sticks, and dialing Mike. She felt guilty backing out of their date, especially after he proposed that morning, but she needed answers before she could move forward with her life. What hurt her the most though was leaving Andre behind, she almost took him with her, making Christie stop by the daycare for a few minutes.
"Michonne, where are you?" Mike picked up after the second ring, he sounded sleepy, yawning into the phone. His blasé tone didn't match the text messages which immediately annoyed Michonne.
"Is everything all right with Andre?" She picked up two twigs then dropped them to continue her search for thicker sticks.
"Andre is fine," Michonne could hear a game playing in the background.
"How about not using all caps when it's not an emergency," she suggested, trying to hide her irritation. She looked back around and saw a couple of cars driving by, none of them bother to slow down to help the women.
"You were supposed to call an hour ago. I won't apologize for trying to get your attention." Michonne frowned at Mike's manipulative tactic.
"Christie and I are on the side of the road, trying to get out of a ditch."
"Did you call roadside? How far are you? I can come pick you two up. Get Terry to wat—."
"No," she said forcefully. "This is an easy fix, we'll be back on the road in five minutes."
"You still have issues with Terry, why?" Michonne shook her head and saw some sticks that looked to be what she needed.
"I don't. I have to go, I'll call you when we make it to that town," she said picking them up.
"We're supposed to be having dinner and making calls about our engagement, but you're ignoring me." There it was, she thought.
"I'm not…" Michonne stood straight up and turned around. She saw a man standing by their car talking to Christie. There was also an SUV on the side of the road that she assumed to be the guy's. "I'm not ignoring you, but I have to go. I'll call you later, I promise. I love you." Christie looked thrill to be speaking with this person.
"I love you too," Mike said. Michonne ended the call and put her cell back in her jeans pocket.
The man was tall, muscular, and ruggedly handsome. She heard Christie laugh nervously before turning to see her walking back to the car.
"See, I told you my friend is freaking MacGyver, we're good," she said.
"Hi," he waved at Michonne and placed his hand back on his hip. His smile was wide and his teeth were bright white, he looked like he could've modeled for a toothpaste commercial.
"Hi," she replied. She dropped the sticks and Christie handed her a cloth rag.
"Vivica said you didn't need any help?" His voice was deep and had a slight Northeastern accent.
"She's right," Michonne kept herself from blowing Christie's cover.
"Ever thought about getting one of these fuckers," he pointed to his SUV. Michonne's eyes narrowed, his enthusiastic way of speaking as if he was the happiest person on earth was unnerving. The man took notice of Michonne's expression and smiled wider, "Sorry for my fucking language."
Christie burst with laughter and shrugged when her eyes met with Michonne's. "I'm sorry that was funny," she confessed, muffling her giggles with her hand. "We're good. Thank you though," she said to the stranger.
"Women who don't need a man to do the tiniest shit. My kind of women."
"Really? You're not really the kind of man, I'd go for," Christie said in a smoky tone.
Well," Michonne clapped her hands, "it was nice to meet you, but again we're good. The man grinned at Christie and looked as if he was going to say something else.
"Then I'll be on my way, stay safe." Both ladies waved goodbye until the man went back to his SUV and drove off.
"You don't even know him and you're flirting," Michonne chastised.
"He was hot and he spoke like a man with a big dick." Christie shook like she was cold and stared dreamingly in the direction he drove down.
Michonne bent down and placed the sticks inside the cloth and pushed them under the wheel. "Get back in and try driving." Michonne took a step back and waited for Christie, she looked at her watch, another hour or so and I'll be there. She knew she had been to King's County before, but couldn't recall the full picture; only bits and pieces. Rick and she were far from lovers at the time, but instead strangers with a common goal. If he's there, will he even know me?
Michonne heard the wheel drive over the sticks and watched Christie drive back onto the road. Michonne wiped some mud from her pants and got back into the passenger side.
"Where did you learn that?" Christie asked pulling back on the highway.
"A friend."
"Rick?"
"Yep," she read the sign ahead for King's County which was a lot closer than she originally thought, "Twenty more miles until the exit."
"You sure this time?"
"Yeah, I'm sure," Michonne's phone buzzed again, Mike sent another text message.
"What exactly are we going to do when we get there?"
"I'll figure it out."
"I should have gave him my number," Christie whispered.
"You know what we can do?"
"What?" Christie looked over at her with a curious expression.
"Look what I found!" Michonne reached down and pulled out a children's book that was tucked underneath her seat. Christie glanced at it and rolled her eyes. "I'm going to read to you, The Berenstein Bears, Learn about Strangers!" Michonne laughed, "Perfect timing."
Christie tried to snatch the book from Michonne's hand, but Michonne leaned away from her, warned the other woman to keep her eyes on the road, and began reading as they continued their drive to King's County.
Ed Pelieter's murder was bothering Rick. It wasn't so much that his widow, Carol, accused Rick of the act, but instead the murder itself felt too familiar for comfort. Rick sat on the locker room bench, rubbing his eyes, he was tired and wanted to find a dark hole to crawl in and sleep until things were back to how it was—the dead walking and Michonne alive. He focused his mind on what he was doing before he woke up in his old home on Monday. I was meeting with Paul Monroe about a war against…, Rick groaned he knew the name of the man that had been their target. He tried to mentally grasp for it like he was reaching for the remote underneath the couch. What is his name? Frustration mounted as he cracked his knuckles, he sighed and felt for his phone beside him.
He flipped through several missed calls from home and Lori's cell. Rubbing the scab on his chin from his razor incident, he held his thumb over the 'call' button deciding whether or not he was ready to speak with Lori. He then closed his phone and tossed it on top of his uniform, he would prefer speaking to Lori face to face, they needed to have a long talk about their marriage, and if it could be saved. Standing up he put his jeans and boots back on, feeling in his pocket for his car keys.
"Shit," it dawned on him that he would need to walk over to Tyrell's to pick up his car. Rick put his shirt on and dumped shower essentials in his locker. His eyes landed on pictures from his past with two people who probably hated his guts right now. One was of Lori and him at the Chicago Pier. The lines and wrinkles wouldn't set in on their faces for another ten years. That had been a fun mini vacation away from the responsibilities of being new parents. The picture above it showcased an even younger Rick with Shane on the baseball field after they won the championship finals. Rick remember being a bench warmer while Shane was one of the top players on the team.
"Didn't think you'll be in today," Shane spoke from behind. Rick turned to eye Shane standing a foot away, he looked at Rick intensely.
"I was. Now I'm leaving," Rick closed his locker, went over to the bench and grabbed his clothing.
"They talked to me today about the dead guy. Got my ass reamed for not telling the whole truth in the original report."
"And that's my fault?" Rick asked incredulously.
"Don't play with me man." Shane veered a little closer. "You really think I'm messin' around with Lori?" He whispered.
Rick gazed over at Shane, he was expecting to see anger in his eyes, but there was only sadness. Rick shook his head, not knowing what to say to the other man. He didn't have proof, only memories of another time that he had no way of knowing actually happened.
"I need to go," he said quietly.
"You can't ignore me forever. You think getting a promotion and a new partner is the end between us?" Shane asked thickly.
"I haven't gotten any of that," Rick confessed and shrugged, "and I'm not gunning for those things either."
Shane clicked his tongue and shook his head, "I don't know what's going on man. I really don't. I mean, fuck, I'm at a loss for words. We've fought, but this feels different."
"Because things are different. For me at least and until I figure it out, I think its best I keep my distance from you." Shane stared at Rick as if Rick was speaking in another language. Before he can protest, Rick strolled passed him and out of the locker room doors.
Michonne and Christie finally made it to King's County. She was grateful that they had been able to make it to the town before nightfall, but her stomach was cramping from the lack of food and anxiety. She viewed the different buildings and surrounding scenery, hoping that one of them would spark a memory.
"Stop for a minute," Michonne gently grabbed Christie's arm, the car came to a stop and Michonne let go and twisted a lock of hair around her finger. The building's sign swung in the wind, the place was familiar to her, King's County Eatery, it read. Michonne remember its clean windows and sidewalks were once dirty, broken, and littered when she first came across it. She swallowed and looked over at Christie.
"Do you want to go inside," Christie asked. Michonne could only nod, gathering her thoughts as to what to do next when she got out of the car. Christie made a U-Turn and found the last parking space left in the crowded lot. There was country music blaring from the speakers outside and a couple of people were coming out with drinks in hand. Christie shut off the engine and played with the key, both stayed silent. Michonne tried to work up her nerve to leave the car, chewing on her cheek, she clutched the car door handle and opened it.
"Michonne," she gazed over at Christie who gave her a warm smile. "If he's in there or not, I'm here for you."
"Thank you," Michonne smiled.
Getting out of the car, she closed the car door and heard Christie do the same. The smell of cigarette smoke filled her nostrils, this town didn't have any public smoking laws like they did in Atlanta as a man blew smoke in the ladies' direction. Walking side by side they entered the restaurant.
"We'll just come in for directions," Michonne said meekly. She was getting a sense of déjà vu of being inside this place before and that some of these people may have been walkers she had put down with her sword.
"Directions? I'm sure we can find it within a minute," Christie had her face scrunched up as they walked around the tables to the counter.
Behind it was a woman about Michonne's age, she tucked her short blonde curly hair behind her ear and was quickly cleaning up the counter with a wet towel. "Bobby, is Kenny back there?" She didn't lift her eyes off her cleaning duties.
"No!" A voice yelled back, Michonne could only assume it was Bobby.
"Give him a call and tell him he has five minutes to get here or he's fired," the woman finally looked up and smiled at Michonne and Christie. She had a scar on her upper lip that prevented her mouth from widening. "Wow you ladies look fabulous," she looked them up and down. Michonne didn't think she looked that great, she had changed out of her dress into jeggings and a 'Michael Jackson' t-shirt. Christie on the other hand looked like she picked her outfit straight from out of the pages of Harper's Bazaar with the exception on the rain boots she was sporting.
"Thank you," Christie beamed at the compliment, grinning at Michonne and raising her eyebrows.
"You can sit down at any of the tables, we'll come serve ya."
"No, we didn't come in to eat, we just needed directions," The smell of bacon wafted towards her nose, making her stomach rumble. "Maybe after we get to where we're going," she amended, "but do you know where the King's County police station is?"
"Oh hunny," the woman swung her soiled towel on her shoulder, "you could've kept on driving straight down that road and it would have been the brown building on your left." She pointed west with her hand, "only a three minute drive down there."
"Thank you," Michonne replied. "May I ask you another question?"
"Sure"
"The murder that happened yesterday, did a cop really do it?"
"You're not a reporter are you?"
"No. No, we're lawyers," Michonne pointed between Christie and her, "we think it could be connected to a case we're working on."
"Well, the cop you're talking about is a very good family friend. He would never do anything like that and the last I heard he was cleared up this morning."
"What's his name?" Christie blurted.
"I'm not going to give out his name. I don't know you two," she replied defensively. Christie frowned and mouthed 'okay.' Michonne would object, but she no longer cared when she saw a picture hanging on the wall.
Is this what you wanted?
Yeah, I wanted a picture of my mom for Judith to know what she looked like. The picture on the wall was of a man, a woman, and their son.
"Rick," Michonne whispered and grabbed Christie, "Christie, he's real. He's fucking real," Christie looked at her in confusion and then at the picture on the wall.
"He's so… white."
"Shut it."
"You know Rick?" Michonne's eyes cut to the woman who stared at her suspiciously.
"It's been years ago, knew him back in Atlanta, he stopped this robber from taking my purse." Michonne said to her, looking her in the eye so that the lie wouldn't be noticeable. "Nice man. Just a bit odd that he lives here, hence my surprise." The woman nodded and doors from the back of the kitchen swung wide, a tall lanky man with grease stains all over his pants and shirt came up to the woman.
"Kenny's here. He's drunk," the woman looked curtly at the young man.
"You ladies need any more help?"
"No, thank you again, we'll be back later."
"So the police station?" Christie asked, taking sunglasses out of her purse and putting them on.
Michonne swallowed, her heart was pumping rapidly and her insides rumbled. Rick wasn't a figment of her imagination which meant what they been through could have actually happened. "Yeah, let's go."
"Rick wait up," Rick groaned at the sound of his boss, Sheriff Jon Watson's voice calling behind him. Rick stopped and turned around with a smile on his face despite internally screaming to be gone from the station.
"Sheriff Watson is everything ok?"
"You're clear. Initial autopsy report puts Ed Peletier's death around midnight. Detective Jones vouches that you were passed out at his place."
"That's great! Thank you." Rick faked his excitement, he was off the hook, but there was still a murderer roaming the streets of their very small town.
"You need to be careful though, we ain't the NYPD. Starting fights with citizens is not what we do here at King's County."
"He was beating his wife," Rick retorted.
"He was a real piece of shit, no doubt. But, I expect you to separate any personal feelings when you're on the job. You know that, Rick. I see Morgan trying to recruit you into detective work, but you're the future Sheriff of King's County; do better."
Rick only nodded, he just wanted to leave, go home, sleep, and face Lori's wrath when he was refresh.
"Take a couple of days off next week, ok son."
"Ok." Sheriff Watson gave Rick a hard pat on the back and turned to leave. Rick shook his head and pinched his nose when he felt a hard bump on his shoulder. He looked up to see Shane walking by him, Shane didn't look at him or offer apologies.
The rational part of Rick's brain felt he had no reason to be angry with Shane and that he was throwing away twenty five and counting years of friendship. Rick sighed and continued on his way out the door, he only took two steps before he was stopped again. It wasn't someone calling for him or being bumped into by an angry friend that was giving him pause. He squinted at the figure only a couple of feet away, he even tilted his head in foolish attempts to see clearer when he didn't need to too. There was no mistaking her for anyone else in town because Michonne was unique.
"We're lawyers from Atlanta," Michonne dug in her purse for her business cards. When they first entered the police station, she quickly scanned all the unfamiliar faces with no luck. He's not here, she thought and went to the front desk to focus on actual work.
"The detective handling the case is gone for the evening and even if he was here, I don't think he's going to give you details about an ongoing investigation."
"I know that," Michonne was growing frustrated that this trip was a bad idea, "I don't need the ins and outs of the investigation, I just need to know if it's similar to two murders that happened in Atlanta, a year ago. I have information that could be useful to your department and—"
"Michonne," Christie was hitting her arm like a child needing to use the bathroom. She glanced at her and saw Christie's wide eyes staring off to the side. Michonne jerked her head down to the desk, her skin prickled on the back on her neck, and she closed her eyes.
"I thought you would be asleep by now," Michonne said to Rick who was sitting on the couch. She had spent most of the night with Carl, still in his coma, but Denise reassured her that there had been improvements and practically escorted Michonne home. The house was quiet and semi dark, only a candle flickered on the coffee table causing shadows to dance around Rick.
"I was waiting up for you," Rick was wrapped in a blanket, his hair was skewed all over his head, and he placed a bottle of Jack back on the table. Michonne sighed, she was tired and didn't think she had enough energy in her to pull Rick out of his misery.
"Rick, go to bed," she moved towards the stairs, taking off her jacket and tossing it on the loveseat.
"Please, I need to talk to you." She stopped, his pleading voice tugged at her heart, she hated seeing him so pitiful. She turned around and sat on the couch beside him, Rick removed the blanket from around him and sat up.
"What do you want to talk about?" She looked over at him quizzically, he licked his lips and stared down.
"Us."
"What do you mean?" She very well knew what he meant, he told her that he loved her and Michonne knew that he didn't mean in a friendly, familial kind of way. Her response was to push him away.
"Michonne, I think there's a future for us," Rick reach out and held her hand. "I know Carl will pull through and when he does, things can't stay the same anymore. I understand now. About living again."
"I can't," Michonne interrupted.
"Listen, I've made so many mistakes since getting to Alexandria, I'm thankful that you even still consider me a friend, but what I'm telling you right now, this isn't a mistake. I love you. I have for a very long time and while I wish my timing was better, I'm not waiting any longer to tell you how I feel."
Michonne shrugged and shook her head, "You're drunk," she smiled but it faltered when she looked in his eyes, they were clear and focused on her.
"I thought about drowning my woes with this stuff, but I'm tired of being in a haze."
"So, what? We get together only for us to be ripped apart eventually. You remember David?" Rick frowned with confusion.
"David was helping us lure the herd away from ASZ before things went to hell," she explained. "He told me he found love in the midst of all of this and I thought," Michonne took a deep breath and let it out, "I thought that could be me."
"It can be."
"No, it can't because David died during that mission. I watched him be devoured and when I came back home, his wife was dead too. It's hopeless."
"It's not!" Rick said emphatically. "Michonne look at me." She turned to him and he scooted closer to her, and brushed the tears from her eyes. "I have never been surer in my life that we should be together. You and I have been through it all, we've lost so much, but we've survived. We don't die."
"Rick, but we will, someday."
"You want to start living, hell you've already started despite me sabotaging your efforts. Love is part of that. I came back to life, Michonne, because of you, I'm ready. Aren't you?"
"Michonne?" She felt his hand gently squeezing her shoulder and his voice that she missed so much spoke softly by her ear. Michonne laid her cheek on top of his hand and rejoiced from the warmth she felt from him.
Rick sucked in a quick breath as he turned Michonne around, he blinked rapidly in amazement. Her lips were parted and she broke into laughter which became infectious because he started laughing as well. But soon her laughter stopped and she shook her head, looking at his much younger face. His face shone no signs of the trauma he had endured for so long, but his eyes were still the same eyes she last remembered looking into before they were separated.
"Hi," he whispered. His breath tickled her nose, he was very real.
"Hi, she whispered back and then wrapped her arms around his waist. Rick pulled her into his chest and breathed in her scent and felt her heartbeat against his. She was very much alive.
Michonne started to cry softly, everything felt right in that moment. It always had since she decided that night that she wanted to experience every facet that life could offer in that world which included love. She moved in his arms so that they once again locked eyes, she watched as he licked her lips. There was only one thing that could make this reunion complete for the both of them, closing her eyes she stood on her tip toes and waited for his lips to touch hers.
"Rick?" The shrill voice of another woman forced Michonne to open her eyes, Rick's warmth left her and he took a step back. She turned to the person that shouted his name and immediately recognized her from the picture in the bar. Michonne's cheeks began to burn, this was a mistake, she thought.
Before her stood Lori, alive and angry.