Chapter 15
Droplets of cold liquid dripped onto Rick's face and down his eyes and cheeks, he tried to turn on his side, but someone or something was on top of him.
"Michonne," he croaked.
"Wake up! Wake up!"
The figure sitting on his chest was most certainly not Michonne. Opening his eyes, big brown ones and the widest grin belonging to Michonne's son, Andre, stared back at him and then Rick saw the sippy cup being tilted over and more juice poured on his face.
"Hey now!" Rick smiled, but his grin dropped soon realizing Andre would think he approved of that kind of treatment, it was too late, the little boy giggled and dumped more juice on Rick until Rick moved Andre to the empty space in bed next to him. Wiping his face, he stood up and looked around the room, becoming reacquainted with his surroundings.
For a guest room, it was spacious, it had a large walk in closet that currently only contained Rick's suitcase. Ceiling to floor windows; Rick walked over to a control panel and pushed a button, the electric shades lifted from the ground coating the room in natural sunlight. The view, in Rick's opinion, was amazing, out looking the Atlanta skyline.
"Where's daddy?"
That's a question Rick didn't want to know the answer to. Sooner or later he would have to come face to face with Mike. Turning to face the inquisitive toddler who managed to get his hands on Rick's watch and currently pulling on its band. Rick sat back on the bed beside him and picked Andre up, scooting him to his lap. Andre's legs swung back and forth as he continued to play with Rick's watch, occasionally taking sips from his cup.
Rick still found himself in awe that he was holding, sharing the same physical space as this little one. Andre was Michonne's everything and then she lost him, Rick marveled how Michonne was able to keep going, to keep living despite at that time being alone in that world. And then she decided to open her heart to his son, Carl, and then Judith. To him.
"Let's find your mommy first," Rick said. Tugging the watch from Andre's hands.
"Mommy!" Andre smiled brightly and wiggled out of Rick's grasp. Rick grabbed his shirt from off the floor and put it on over his head. Andre waited by the door, fussing with the door knob until Rick opened it for him.
"Come on," Andre ordered in his tiny voice, grabbing the bottom of Rick's shirt and leading the adult to the living room.
You are definitely your mother's child.
Andre didn't stop until they got to the L-shaped cream color couch and pointed to the laptop on the glass coffee table.
"Tawmas," he said.
Rick nodded, understanding what was being requested of him, "Ok." Opening the monitor, he searched a moment for anything that remotely resembled a video player icon. Meanwhile, he could hear and smell bacon sizzling from the kitchen. Andre stood on the couch, resting his body weight on Rick's shoulder and sighing in his ear. Rick found what he was looking for and noticed that there was already a DVD in the laptop, he pressed play and Thomas the train theme song played from the speakers.
"Ok, buddy, he scooted the laptop to the center of the table and pressed the 'play all' option on the DVD menu. Andre sat back on the couch, immediately disregarding Rick's presence. Rick smiled and turned towards the kitchen.
Many mornings ago, Rick would enter the kitchen to see Michonne cooking up breakfast for the household. And just like those other mornings, Rick leaned against the counter and watched her, humming to herself, sometimes moving her hips to a beat only she could hear. Those were the best mornings.
Currently, Michonne clad in a yellow maxi halter dress closed the fridge and moved back to the stove, her toned arms flexed as she placed more bacon in the pan.
He glided behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist and moved Michonne away from the hot stove. He kissed her from her elegant shoulders to her neck, reveling in her quiet giggles.
Not letting him distract her, Michonne used a fork to scoop the cooked bacon onto a plate covered in napkins. Beside that plate was a stack of pancakes, freshly made you could still see the steam coming up from the one on top. Rick pushed himself against her backside, letting her know without words how happy he was to see her this morning.
"Rick…," a soft no on the tip of her tongue, she nodded towards Andre who scooted closer to the laptop. Rick grinned into Michonne's neck and as soon as Michonne turned the stove off and sat the pan down, he turned her around to face him.
"I miss you," he said. He kissed her lightly on her lips and then attacked her neck again, nipping at the soft skin. He smelled warm vanilla on her. "Why didn't you stay in bed?"
"Andre doesn't care if you're tired, if he's up, I'm up, and I had a weird dream I needed to shake off."
Michonne pushed back enough to force Rick to meet her eyes.
"And… what I need from you is to set the table. Christie should be up by now and we owe her." She smirked, reaching behind her for the plates of stacked pancakes and bacon and handed them to Rick. A lazy grin spread across his face as he walked to the dining table.
"At least tell me about this dream?" There was a stack of plates already on the table, Rick sat down the food and picked up one of the plates. He had never met a young person who already own a set of fine china dinnerware, let alone several sets. And in all honestly, Rick wasn't surprised, everything in Christie's condo seemed expensive. After a few moments, he looked over to see Michonne pouring orange juice in sparkling glasses. "Michonne, what was the dream?"
She shook her head and briefly smiled, "I don't know if it was a dream or a memory, but I was sitting with another woman. Brown hair, tall."
"Lori?"
"No. Younger, I think her name was Megan or something like that, but we were friends, we were close." Michonne's eyes withdrawn as she lost herself in the remnants of her dream. "The dream was all over the place, but the one thing I remembered was her asking if I had an opportunity to go back to the way things were before, would I do it and…" she trailed off, shaking her head again, Michonne's eyes swept towards Andre who made his way to Rick and was now staring at him curiously, a sly grin on his face.
"Would you?" Rick asked. His eyebrows drew in and his tone light.
"I said yes in the dream," she licked her lips and grimaced.
Rick gave her a comforting smile, "In a way, you got your wish."
She nodded, "Yeah, you can say that." Rick grabbed a piece of bacon from the plate and gave it to Andre who happily accepted. He then came over to Michonne, turned her away from the stove again, and gave her another kiss. Deep and fervent, Rick's own way of making her feel better about the dream.
His hands roamed down her back to just one of his most favorite things about Michonne, rubbed on her soft behind and then grabbed a handful of her left ass cheek. She squealed in his mouth and he chuckled, pushing himself against her and forcing her towards the counters.
"Listen, let's head back to the bedroom and reacquaint ourselves," he whispered in her ear. Michonne's response was to move her legs apart, moaning in his ear.
"Yum! Breakfast and some adult entertainment."
Christie's voice and then Shane's laughter was like a cold shower. Michonne was out of Rick's arms and walking to the dining table before his brain could fire off orders to the rest of his body. Shane's laughter dying off made Rick meet his friend's eye, a confused expression crossed Shane's face as the two men stared at one another.
He saw.
Christie walked passed him in the kitchen and smirked, like yesterday, there was no judgment in her eyes only amusement. She opened up her wine cabinet and got out a bottle of champagne.
"Mimosa?" She asked, grabbing a corkscrew from one of the drawers and then popping open the bottle. She didn't wait for him to answer, Christie poured champagne into the four glasses that already contained orange juice.
"Yeah, bring the whole bottle too," Rick replied.
All five of them sat at the dining table, quietly passing plates of bacon, eggs, and pancakes between them. Only Andre spoke, carrying on a lively conversation with just himself, occasionally shouting for Michonne's attention. Rick watched Shane down his mimosa and began tapping on the table while stealing glances at Michonne.
I should clear the air, he thought. Rick opened his mouth to do just that when Christie spoke before him.
"I received an email from Tracinski this morning. He wants to make a plea deal with Jacobs."
Michonne's fork hit the porcelain plate a little too hard with an abrupt clang, "We're in the middle of a trial. I wasn't taken off this case just for Merle to be pleaded out."
"I know."
Michonne sighed, "My gut said Zach was a horrible choice and he has the nerve to think he's one of the best. All he has done in the past three years is take plea deals. Lazy."
"And Jacobs is being a dick about it. Not offering anything less than life in prison with parole."
Regret creep into Michonne's mind, she had a strong sense of justice and what was happening to Merle wasn't it. "I'll go back."
Rick's hand darted to her own, "No, you need to rest and not stress."
Michonne shot him a look, a clear message that stress in the situation they found themselves in was inevitable. "Thank you," she said, looking quickly at Shane who seemed sullen and then to Christie, "the real killer is out there, Zach can argue that putting doubt in the juror's mind is the goal here."
Christie shrugged and reached for the champagne bottle, "I told him that and his words were, 'You expect me to play Jesus, for free?'"
"Well, I have to see Merle today. I'll tell him to not make the deal, no matter what pressure Zach puts on him."
"Michonne," Christie shook her head slowly, a kind smile crossed her face, "You took the case pro-bono, but Tracinski does not have to honor that deal."
Sighing heavily, Michonne sat back in her seat. Removing grapes from her plate and handing them to Andre. She was coming up with blanks on how to free Merle through the law without her taking the case again.
"I think this Merle's guy best chance is with us," Rick said, pointing between himself and Shane.
Shane raised an eyebrow, looked over at Christie, rolled his eyes, shrugged and stared back at his plate of pancakes. "Don't be makin' promises you can't keep just because you want to impress a girl," Shane said.
Rick's nostrils flared, he leaned closer to the table, resting both arms and looking dead at his friend, "Nothing wrong with wanting to help."
Shane met Rick's eye and laughed, "Trust me from experience, you ain't much help when you thinkin' with your dick."
Michonne flinched and Rick stood up. Even Andre stopped eating his grapes, sensing the adults have now become more interesting.
"A child is present, can we not!" Christie got up from her seat and pulled on Shane's arm until he stood up as well.
"Sorry, little dude," he said to Andre. His apology not extending towards Michonne or Rick. Christie escorted him out the room leaving Rick and Michonne alone.
Michonne eyed Rick who had his head in his hands, sighing. "That's the infamous Shane?" she asked, rubbing his back in a circular motion.
He chuckled, "Yep."
"Well, at least he isn't trying to kill you." Rick looked over at her, a small smile appearing on his face.
"The day is just starting," he quipped and leaned over to give her a quick kiss.
"EW! Nasty!" Andre shouted, both Michonne and Rick broke into laughter as Andre climbed down from his chair and went back to the living area.
"Your kid is something else."
"Yeah, he is," Michonne held Rick's hand, her expression turning serious, "I think I should go with you today."
Rick shook his head, "No. I can handle Shane, I'm good."
"You're sure."
Some of her locs had fallen on her face, he reached up and moved them back, "Positive."
"Ok," she resigned.
Rick leaned further over, caressing the side of Michonne's face and chin. Her lips parted and Rick went for another kiss. His free hand going under Michonne's dress, roaming up her leg and to her thigh. Her own fingers clutching his hair. He felt the heat between her legs before he could touch her and she could feel his presence there because she wiggled in her seat. Michonne bit Rick's lower lip, mewing against him as she felt him move her panties to the side and his finger slid against her clit. Rick dipped his finger into her, lazily stroking his finger in and out.
"Oh god," she whispered.
"Sorry love, we're going to have to call God later."
Michonne opened her eyes to see Rick smirking at her, "You're such an asshole." She moved away from him and stood up, "You know it's on, right?"
Rick laughed, "Bring it, baby."
"To quote one of the greatest movies of our time, 'It's already been brought'n.'"
A silent pause came between them before both broke into riotous laughter.
Here Michonne was again, sitting and waiting for Merle Dixon to come shuffling through the door. She crossed her legs and pulled at the fabric bunching up around her knee, smoothing out the black texture. Michonne knew how this meeting was going to go and she felt prepared for it, but that didn't stop the butterflies from fluttering in her stomach. All she needed to do was get through the next ten minutes and then freedom.
Her thoughts swept to a pleasant image of her painting while her boys, Rick, Carl, and Andre played outside. That's what she wanted, that's what she deserved and that was her goal. Rick wanted answers as to why this phenomenon happened and the logical side of Michonne did too, but a small spark of fear gnawed at heart. Every moment with Andre made her forget about that world, made it easier for her to push away the memories; she hasn't had an incident since Monday which only made her resolve stronger.
Cheerful, boisterous chatter and heavy footsteps could be heard outside the door. Merle's hoarse voice cracked through the doors, Michonne cleared her throat and stood up.
The door swung open and a tall barreled-chested man walked in first, he gave Michonne a terse nod and pulled out the chair Merle would be sitting in. Michonne clamped her hands in front of her, watching Merle come through the door. A frown planted deep on his face, he held up his handcuffed hands and gave a short wave, his frown turning into a smirk.
"Well well well. My Nubian queen decided to grace me with her presence," he said, hoarsely. Michonne noticed his smirked turned serious and his energy felt off. She sat down as the guard shackled Merle to the chair and table.
Maybe he already knows.
The guard turned to leave, but not before giving Michonne a companionable smile. Michonne returned his smile and then her eyes swept back to Merle. He cocked his head, leaning back in his chair, only one of his hands were cuffed to the table, and the other slid off it and onto his thigh.
"Here I was thinking my trial was being delayed because my amazing lawyer found the real killer, but nooo she had a tummy ache."
"Merle…," Michonne began.
"And then! She quit! Now, I have this no nothing prick who's trying to get me to agree to life in prison. He says," Merle chuckled. "He says it's better than lethal injection. Rotting in prison is not better than being put out of your fucking misery."
Michonne frowned as she thought back to what Christie told her last week. She was the one who came to Merle and promised him she'll win his case, that she'll make sure he'll walk out of jail a freed man.
"I want to apologize. No excuses, I've failed you and for that I am sorry."
Merle scoffed, "And here I thought you weren't like the rest of your people."
Michonne rolled her eyes and eyed him, he smirked and licked his lips, ready for her to react. Michonne leaned slightly forwards and for the first time noticed how stuffy the room was.
"Merle, your brother is dead," she said softly.
He stared at her blankly, Michonne swallowed anticipating his reaction any moment. She watched as his widen-eyes narrowed, his open-mouth closed, and his smirk turned into a sneer.
"You better be fucking joking with me," his chains clanged against the metal as he leaned forward.
Michonne shook her head.
"GODDAMMIT! My brother's not dead, you stupid bitch he's not dead! You're wrong!" He spat and stood up so quickly, his movements scared Michonne. She stood up as well, reaching for a katana that was currently hanging on a wall, nowhere near here. Merle's eyes popped, the veins in his neck pulsed and his hands were clenched into fists. Fists that he slammed on the table over and over. "YOU'RE LYING. HE AIN'T DEAD!"
The door violently swung open as the correctional officer streamed in, reaching for Merle's limbs and demanding he calm down.
"HE AIN'T DEAD. HE AIN'T DEAD."
Michonne's heart raced as she tried to maintain her composure, she watched the officer secure Merle, but he wouldn't hold still. Frustrated, the man placed Merle in a chokehold, Michonne eyes widen as she saw Merle continue to struggle.
"Stop," she demanded quietly, but he wouldn't. Tears streamed down Merle's face, spit coming out of his mouth. Michonne moved to block the door and held out her hand. "I said STOP!"
The officer did as he was told, looking at Michonne with confusion.
"Daryl's gone, my little brother is gone." Gargled sobs emitted from Merle and Michonne tried to hold back her own tears.
"Sit him back down in his seat."
"Ma'am I'm taking him bac—."
"You're going to sit him down! He just lost his brother, give us a few more minutes. Please!"
The man stared at Michonne, silently debating whether to listen to her or not. And then he removed his arm from around Merle's neck and sat him down. Merle didn't resist, the only thing he could do was slowly shake his head, mutter to himself as he cried.
Michonne walked back to her seat, sitting down, she nodded to the officer who didn't acknowledge her.
"Thank you."
"The door is staying open."
"Ok."
With the man out of sight, Michonne's eyes swept to Merle. She wished she had words of comfort to give him, but she was drawing blanks.
"He didn't deserve this. It's my fault."
"Merle you didn't do this."
"I DID!" Michonne glanced towards the door and licked her lips. "I did," Merle repeated, but quietly. "I'm the one who dragged him with me to meet that guy."
Michonne perked up, "Negan?" Her curiosity piqued.
Merle didn't respond instead he sighed heavily and wiped his eyes and nose.
"Merle, what is it you're not telling me? Last week you made it sound like you only knew of Negan through Shelly and Dwight, now you're saying you actually met him."
"I ain't no snitch."
"Your brother didn't just die, he was murdered."
Merle shook his head, his lips tightened and more tears fell from his eyes. Michonne scooted closer, she needed Merle to tell her the truth, she may be done with this case, but she knew any information Merle had would be beneficial to Rick.
"There is a detective here from a town about two hours from here. That man is investigating a murder that is practically identical to what happened with Dwight and Shelly."
Merle made eye contact with Michonne, his forehead furrowed and she could see he was slowly coming out of his daze.
"What happened when you met with Negan?"
Merle stared at her, his eyes moved up and down her body and swept over to the door. "He owns a bar on the outskirts of Atlanta, it's called 'The Sanctuary.'"
The hair on Michonne's arms tingled, she clasp her fingers together tightly.
"I was looking for those two junkies."
"Sherry and Dwight?"
"Yeah and I brought Daryl along with me for backup, stupid." His eyes downturned, "They owed me money and I was there to collect. So me and my brother tried to get in but this dumb tall fuck name Simon was in our way. Well, we were about to force our way in and then that's when he came out… Negan."
Merle sniffed and adjusted in the seat, a sly smirk appeared on his face. "Charming asshole. No matter how many insults I threw at him, he didn't seem bothered, he said he would pay Sherry and Dwight's debt. I told him I didn't want his damn money and that's when he brought out a damn baseball bat wrapped in wire."
Michonne eyes widen and the temperature in the room seemed to have dropped, she crossed her arms and willed herself to focus on Merle and not the past.
"Son of a bitch was swinging it about and whistling. And then he looked at my brother and I saw it. I… saw something, he looked at my brother like he knew him. I even asked Daryl later that day had he ever met Negan, but my brother said no. But, I'm telling you lawyer lady, I swear on everything I have left in this piss stank world, I think Negan knew my brother."
"Based on a look?"
Merle scowled, "My brother ain't do shit to no one. He kept to himself, he wasn't involved in any dirt that was all me, so you tell me who would want him dead?"
"I don't know."
"He ain't did nothing to nobody. I can't… I can't…," Merle's voice faltered as he cried again. "I can't even make sure he has a proper funeral. I can't even say goodbye."
Without thinking, Michonne reached across the room and took Merle's hand. "I'll pay for the arrangements."
To her surprise, Merle jerked his hand from her, a sour expression crossed his face. "We Dixons take care of our own. I don't need your charity."
"I'm not… it's the least I can do since—."
"Guard! I'm done here."
The guard came back in, unlocking Merle from the table and escorting him from the room. Leaving Michonne perplexed.
"Mommy!"
Andre attempted to wiggle out of his car seat, reaching out for Michonne to assist him. Instead, after getting into the passenger seat, Michonne grabbed his stuffed dog and gave it to her son, hoping it'll keep him occupied for a moment.
"You're still in one piece," Christie said from the driver's side. Michonne sighed and shook her head, she looked up towards the tiny windows; the only view that inmates had the outside. Michonne wondered if Merle was looking down at them from one of those windows.
"Barely. I gave that man false hope and now…"
"Michonne, what has happened was out of your control."
Michonne nodded and turned to face Andre again, she grabbed ahold of his leg and shook it. "Are you hungry Peanut?"
"Mommy, I want peanut butta and jelly."
Michonne grinned, "Ok, we're going to get something to eat in a few." Turning to Christie who was driving, "You have classes today?"
"Yeah, not going."
"Christie, go to class, I'll be fine."
Christie scrunched up her face, "I'm not going because of you. I'm not going because I don't feel like it."
Michonne lightly slapped Christie on the arm, chuckling, "You cannot be skipping classes, especially when you're in law school. Take your butt to class or I'll make you."
"You and what army?"
"Peanut. Tell TiTi Christie that she needs to go to class."
"Go to class!" Andre ordered. Michonne and Christie broke into giggles.
"Andre, I thought we were friends. Traitor," Christie quickly glanced behind her and stuck her tongue out. Andre responded by blowing raspberries at her.
"You really not going to class?" Michonne asked. Christie nodded, "Well, let's find someplace to eat."
"How about the aquarium?"
Michonne nodded enthusiastically, the Georgia Aquarium was one of her favorite spots to visit especially after Andre's birth. And in her mind, it had been too long since she's been there. Pulling out her phone, she sent scrolled through the names on her contact list, stopping when she reached Mike's.
Mike had only called one time and that was last night asking if Andre was okay. Michonne remembered holding her breath waiting for him to demand she come back home with their son, but all she heard was a resigned sigh, a half-hearted joke about kidnapping and then an 'I love you' before he hung up. She knew his way of trying to win her back was to give her space and the fact that Mike was calm showed her that he didn't know Rick was in town. Hopefully, it would stay that way. She sent Mike a text letting him know that they were heading to the aquarium and that she and Andre won't be home until tomorrow. And then she scrolled to Rick's number.
Michonne needed to relay what Merle told her about Negan to him. He looked at my brother like he knew him. A slight chill made Michonne shiver and like yesterday, her intuition was sending out alarm signals. What if Negan was from their world or had the same knowledge that he had gone through an apocalypse and now everything was back to normal. Michonne frowned, her memories of that other world was still in fragments, same with Rick's memory.
But…
Michonne's stomach turned. What if Negan knows about us? Suddenly, Michonne was no longer in a mood to go to the aquarium. She looked down at her phone and sent Rick a text:
We need to talk. It's about a Negan.
"Christie, could you stop by my place before we go to the aquarium?"
Christie looked at her in confusion. "I'll have to turn around."
"I forgot my wallet."
"Well, I can pay—"
"Christie, please," Michonne whispered. "I need to get something."
"Fine."
Christie turned into a clothing store parking lot and made a U-Turn. Michonne tapped her finger on her phone, stealing glances at Andre who seemed to be in his own world with his toy cars. Her fantasy of relaxing with him, Rick and Carl was going to have to be placed on hold. Her eyes swept from Andre to Christie. Christie's brows were furrowed, biting her lip while her left arm rubbed her leg.
"Christie?"
"I'm heading there," she said.
"I know… I just wanted to say thank you… for everything."
"Michonne, you don't—."
"Yes, I do. You've gone above and beyond just on the faith of our friendship and I appreciate it."
"I told you already that I'm your guardian angel." She looked at Michonne smiling and then gave her a wink.
Michonne stared back, wide-eyed, "Christie," she whispered as if Andre was paying attention to the two women. "Are you…"
Christie's face contorted and then she snorted, "No. I'm just kidding. Oh, my god, that would mean I'm dead and… NO, ugh Michonne dammit, now I have the heebie-jeebies."
Michonne smiled, "Anything is possible."
"Well, not that."
Ten minutes later, Christie pulled in front of Michonne's condo.
"Home," Andre announced.
"Yeah, peanut. Christie, this won't take but five minutes." Christie nodded as Michonne got out of the car. She looked around her, watching for suspicious persons. She closed the door and opened the backseat, leaning towards Andre, Michonne gave her son a kiss on the cheek. "Christie drive around the block a couple of times, please."
For the second time, Christie looked at her with confusion, but her face relaxed, "yeah sure."
Michonne locked the backseat door and walked quickly to the front door.
Her condo was eerily quiet and when she gazed over her surroundings, Michonne could tell that Mike never came home as well. Her eyes swept towards the reason she even came home; her gorgeous katana sitting pretty above the mantle place. Just like last time, she felt drawn to the weapon that she used to wield in the battle against the living and dead. Michonne moved the ottoman closer to the fireplace and stretched until the sword was in her hand.
She looked at the intricate design on the scabbard and wrapped her hand around the hilt, slowly pulling the katana halfway out. The afternoon sun shined on it, the edges were sharp. Michonne took a breath and then let it out, and swiftly pushed the katana all the way inside the scabbard. She then pulled the strap over her head, securing her katana on her back.
"You know you can't legally use this dang thing," she said, chastising herself. But, as she clutched the strap to her chest and felt some of her anxiety slip away, she had a feeling she might use it anyway.
The opening of a conversation Rick needed to have with Shane was on the tip of his tongue. The two men sat quietly in a car, Christie was kind enough to provide them, on their way to one of Atlanta's precinct. Shane was uncharacteristically quiet, biting his nail on his forefinger and staring out the window. A couple of times he would roll his neck, run his hand through his hair, and sniffle, but for the most part, he was silent, motionless.
Shane had to be thinking about the week before, the accusations Rick hurled at him and Lori, the punch to the face, and now seeing Rick in an intimate embrace with a woman he met hours ago. He had questions that Rick wasn't ready to answer. Rick swallowed, his thumbs nervously tapping on the steering wheel, he slid his right hand into his front pocket, pulling out a piece of paper.
Michonne had scribbled the address for where they needed to go and directions. He made a left onto Henderson and saw the police garage deck with a galley of police cars parked there. Rick pulled into a section marked for visitors and parked. The unspoken issues between Shane and him were going to have to be tabled for later and Rick couldn't decide if that was a good or bad thing.
On a weekday down at the King County Sheriff's station it would be quiet, the hours would slowly tick by with maybe one disturbance. Time moving like molasses was the reason Rick preferred patrol duty, better being stuck in his car then stuck behind a desk. So, when he and Shane entered the Atlanta precinct, he was taken aback by the bustling and noisy place. Phones were ringing off the hook, some shouting behind a door, and a group of police officers chatting walked past Rick and Shane and went through that door. A visitor room which looked full to capacity with women and children and a few men, a wailing baby could be heard from their left.
At King County, there was the receptionist/operator desk and then desks assigned to the officers and detectives, here there was a long wall with windows peeking inside where the other officers went into, the receptionist desk hid behind Plexiglas with a speaker attached.
Shane stepped toward the fake glass, a brown-haired woman in her late 30s sat with a phone pressed to her ear. Her forehead scrunched as she wrote furiously on a piece of paper. Her hair was in a high ponytail and she wore a blue headband that matched her blue uniform.
Shane knocked on the glass and smiled liked the Cheshire cat. The woman eyes bounced between him and Rick and then above them, she nodded and her mouth moved, but Rick couldn't hear nor make out what she was saying. Then she continued writing. Shane smile faltered, he knocked again, harder, and she looked up, again. Rick stared at the badge on her shirt until he could make out the word; Jodi.
Jodi dropped her pen, turning the phone away from her mouth she pressed a button by her side.
"Can I help you?" Her voice was soft but gave away her irritation.
"I'm Officer Shane Walsh this is…" Shane looked at Rick, "what are you now?"
Rick rolled his eyes and leaned towards the speaker, "I'm Detective Rick Grimes, and we're here to speak with Detective Brian Blake."
"Badges and IDs?"
Rick and Shane pulled out their badges with their IDs attached and pressed them against the glass. Jodi only looked for half a second, pulled out a folder. Opening it, she flipped through a list of names until she got to a section that was only half way filled. She gazed back up, read their badges and wrote the number down on the paper with their names. Then there was a buzz from the door to the side of them.
"You can go in," she said.
Rick and Shane nodded their heads in gratitude and went inside.
Detective Blake came from the back, a smile planted on his face that rang false somehow, he walked to them confidently, holding out his hands once he was closer.
"Been expecting you," he said. Brian's voice was like iced tea on a hot summer day, heavily Southern, a melodic accent that made his introduction sweet. He towered over Rick and Shane, after shaking hands with both of them he rested his hands on his hips. "I hear ya'll got yourself a little murder in your town. Don't have too many of those down in good ol' Mayberry?"
Shane scoffed and crossed his arms. "Nah," he said.
"Not the kind that we came here to discuss with you about, that is," Rick said.
Brian raised an eyebrow and smiled again, "Fire away." He led them towards the back, down a hallway, past the locker room and custodian's closet. There were several office doors, but only one that had Brian's name on it stenciled into the door like a classic detective movie.
Brian opened the door for the two men and offered them to sit down in the chairs in front of his desk while he sat in a large office chair behind it.
"We came down here because the victim in our murder investigation died in a similar fashion to a double murder that you investigated." Rick decided there was no point beating around the bush, time was even more urgent after the breakfast conversation earlier today.
Brian crossed his arms, leaning back in his seat, his hands meeting each other at the fingertips. "And we caught our killer," he replied. "He's awaiting judgment and from what I hear, his defense ain't doing too hot."
"No offense, but if you saw what we saw, I don't think you would be able to say that so confidently," Rick said. His words harsh, his eyes hard.
Shane's head jerked, "Look, you're right," Shane spoke up, unlike Rick his tone was light. "We're from a boring ass town and it ain't every day you see someone you knew by name with their fucking head smashed like a piñata."
Rick watched Brian eye Shane in amusement, his own eyes briefly cutting over to Shane who leaned further in his chair. "We have some suspects, but we just want to cover all our angles. You understand?" Shane asked.
Brian nodded.
Shane looked back over at Rick, sending a silent communication for him to keep his shit together. Rick's jaw clenched and he cleared his throat.
"I'll cut to the chase, the victim might have known a man by the name of Negan." Rick saw the shift, Brian made in his seat, very subtle, but he caught it. "Negan's name was mentioned in court records from Dwight's DUI court case. The same Dwight that had his own head smashed to bits."
"And this Negan… you think it's the same guy."
"It can't be a coincidence."
"It very well could be," Brian countered.
"Did you interview Negan?"
Brian shrugged, "no need. We caught our guy pretty early on. You see I don't know how advanced the police department and ya'll practice are down there, but we have this little thing called DNA forensics and Merle Dixon's DNA was all over the murder scene."
A sardonic chuckle emitted from Rick, "Ok. You have your guy, we're just trying to find ours. Can you help us out?"
A long pause and then Brian's chair shifted, he moved forward and opened a drawer, pulling out a notepad.
"Negan has a bar on the outskirts of Atlanta," he said writing on the pad. "Here's the address." He ripped the paper from the pad, folding it and then holding it out for Rick. Rick went to reach for it, but Brian moved his hand back. He looked dead in Rick's eyes, a scorn expression wore on his face. "If I find out you and Barney Fife over there are trying to undermine my work, I will have your asses escorted out of Atlanta and back to your good ol' hometown where the people still believe the earth is flat and wrasslin's real."
Rick's head tilted, his eyes narrowing and zoning in on Brian's nose. One hit to the face and lights out was all it took. He reached for the note and snatched it out of the detective's hand, standing up quickly and heading for the door.
"No thank you?"
Shane slamming the door behind them was their thank you.
"Did ya here that there Rick, wrasslin' ain't real? Why da man have to go and hurt my feelins' like that," Shane said, exaggerating his accent. "Fucking asshole."
"And apparently, the Earth ain't flat, everything Mr. Ed taught me was a lie," Rick added, he grinned widely as they made it back to their car.
"I expected this kind of treatment from fucking Northerners, that son of a bitch got a lot of nerve."
"Yeah, well, he wasn't going to be any help. The minute Morgan called him about Ed's murder, that asshole knew he messed up."
"At least we got an address out of him."
"Yep." With both Rick and Shane in the car, Rick started up the ignition and headed towards the location.
Once again, silence fell between the two men, but Rick thoughts were still stuck on their humorous exchange.
"When were you going to tell me about whatsherface?"
There goes the peace.
"Her name's Michonne," Rick glance quickly at Shane who shook his head.
"I don't care what her name is, why did I walk in and see you humping her like a damn dog on the kitchen counter?"
Rick grunted, "I answer to you now? I told you the other night that Lori and I—."
"Were getting a divorce," Shane finished, waving him off. "But, my friend, what you've neglected to add was that it was because you were off two-timing Lori!"
Rick nearly slammed on the brakes in the middle of the street. A car blared its horn, most likely directed at him. "It's complicated."
"BULLSHIT! You trying to bullshit a professional bullshitter. Complicated my ass, you want to know why I'm pissed?" Shane turned in his seat facing Rick, his lips pressed tightly, staring at Rick intently.
"Because I punched you," Rick answered.
"YES BECAUSE YOU PUNCHED ME! You're a fucking asshole."
"And I apologize, didn't I?" Rick's stomach tighten, this argument was escalating and they were in a moving vehicle.
"Yeah, well, I don't accept it," Shane turned forward and pouted.
"You've already accepted it," Rick bit his inner cheek to keep from laughing, but in his efforts, he snorted.
"This shit ain't funny. Lori is probably at home right now, crying her eyes out and you're having the time of your life with this whore."
Rick turned into a parking lot, the car stopped abruptly, both men bodies jerking from the sudden stop. His hand clenched the steering wheel tightly as his gaze fixed ahead.
"Get out," his voice hardening, his jaw clenching.
"I'm calling a spade a spade. I see a woman with a kid, no man in sight except for the married one she's sucking off. I'd say that's a whore."
Rick unfasten his seatbelt, opened the car door, and got out. It was now later in the afternoon, the heat reaching its peak temperature for the day. Rick stalked to the passenger side, thinking how foolish of the other man for getting out of the car.
"We're going to do this?" Shane asked, closing his door and facing Rick. "I owe you a punch anyway."
Instead of raising his hands to fight Shane, Rick had the car keys in his hand and threw them at Shane's face. "I'll walk back to Christie's place and you can go back home. I don't need you here," he spat.
Incredulous, Shane gawked and sputtered out words that didn't connect into a proper sentence. Rick headed back to the sidewalk, half of him proud that he didn't fight Shane, the other half wanting to turn around and knocked Shane's teeth down his throat.
Christie's door opened before Rick had a chance to knock. Startled, both Rick and Christie took a step back from each other. Rick eyed the usually put together Christie's appearance, her hair was in a top knot with a scarf tied to it, she wore thick rimmed black glasses and sweats, and she was carrying a garbage bag.
"I can take that out if you want to," Rick offered. He reached for the bag, but Christie brushed past him.
"I got it." She hauled the bag over her shoulder and walked down the hall. Rick hoped that Shane didn't take his anger out on Christie, as he strolled through her condo, his absence was noticeable. He paused mid-step, Shane couldn't stop gushing about Christie the past couple of days, but one fight with Rick and Shane goes running back to King County. A flash of anger crossed his face as his memories gave him a not so friendly reminder of Shane and Lori. He shook his head, closing his eyes to rid himself of the anger he thought was long gone.
If Shane and Lori actually become a thing, so be it, I have what I want.
Rick continued his way towards the guest bedroom, the door was cracked and the light was on, he slowly pushed it open wider and peeked his head inside. Michonne lied on her side facing towards the door, using her hand to prop up her head, she was engrossed in a book. Her locs were under a satin bonnet and she wore a simple white tank top, shorts, and white/pink knee high socks. Rick smiled, his thoughts about Shane and Lori were pushed and locked away.
"Baby," Rick said. Michonne looked up from her book and grinned, closing it, she sat up and placed it on the nightstand beside her.
"Hi."
Rick took a quick look inside the crib by the door, Andre was tucked in and sound asleep. Maybe, it was fatherly instinct, but Rick wanted to physically feel that the little boy was ok. He bent over the crib and caress Andre's cheek, happy to feel the warmth radiating from his skin. Rick has only known him for 24 hours and yet he already felt Andre was one of his.
He didn't know Michonne left the bed until he felt her arms snake around his waist and her head on his back.
"My turn," she whispered. Rick kicked off his shoes and turned to face his love, he held her chin and leaned forward. His lips embracing her soft ones, she pulled him in closer to her body as their tongues entwined and the moaned into each other's mouths. Rick broke the kiss and moved down towards her neck, kissing her tender flesh until he reached her collarbone. Quiet giggles came from Michonne as her hand pushed Rick's head back. "We need to talk."
Rick groaned, resting his hands on Michonne's waist, he clicked his tongue and raised an eyebrow, "we can talk while we do other thangs."
Michonne smirked and then shook her head, "Did you find Negan?"
Frowning, Rick took Michonne's hand and led her to the bed where they both sat down. "I got an address to some bar he owns in Atlanta. Was heading over there but Shane felt that was a perfect opportunity to express his opinion about us."
"You and me?"
Rick nodded, he saw the sadness in her face which made him regret not taking the opportunity to punch Shane in his face again. Rick wrapped his arm around her shoulders, "You don't need to worry about Shane. He'll deal, I'll make him deal."
Michonne chuckled, "You can't force people to like me or to like this situation. Lord knows when my momma finds out—."
"Find out? You mean when we share the news… together."
Michonne looked at Rick, skeptically, "You're eager."
Rick couldn't stop himself from grinning widely, "I'm going to meet your parents, and you're going to meet mine. This is exciting."
Michonne bit her bottom lip, softly shaking her head, "yeah, but first… Negan. Merle told me he met Negan. He and Daryl, his brother went to that bar demanding money from the two murder victims, Negan paid Merle instead."
"Why?"
"Merle didn't say."
"In your file, Negan states he helped Dwight and the girl with counseling." Rick shook his head, his forehead scrunch as he tried to connect dots, but something was missing.
"But here's the thing that's bothering me. Merle said that when Negan came out, he stared at Daryl as if he knew him."
"Why is that bothering you?"
"Because when I met Daryl last week, in the back of my mind, I felt like I already knew him as well. I just… I don't know, I feel like it's not just us."
"There's a woman back in King County, her name is Carol and sometimes I feel like we knew each other."
Michonne moved away, she folded her legs and rested her tone arms on top of them. "I have a feeling that we've encounter this guy and it wasn't good."
Rick eyed her, he could see her wariness and the anxiety making itself present on her body. He held her hand, squeezing it lightly until their eyes met. "Is that why you have your katana?" Michonne nodded, her sheathed katana stood on the side of the nightstand, easy access in case anyone came trying to hurt them. Rick stood up and took his colt python from his holster and placed it on the other nightstand.
"I wish I knew what happened to us. Better yet, I just wish I had the full picture of my life in that other place."
"Yeah…"
Michonne scooted to the middle of the bed and laid back. Rick took off his shirt and laid beside her.
"I'm going to that bar tomorrow."
Michonne jerked her head in his direction, "not by yourself."
"It's too dangerous to bring you with. Michonne you can't carry your katana around in the open."
"I know that, but I can't let you go there by yourself."
"I'm a cop, on official police business. Negan is going to have to play nice."
Michonne sighed, "You're right."
Rick turn on his side facing Michonne, he snuck his hand under her shirt, looking for her reaction with a sly grin. "Did you just say I was right?"
Michonne laughed quietly and then rolled her eyes, "A broken clock is right twice a day."
"Oh, it's like that." Rick's hand steadily moved up her flat stomach to her left breast."
She laughed harder, but then when her laughter died down, Rick saw the lust in her eyes. Michonne licked her lips and moved so that she rested on her elbows. Rick gently massage her breast and captured her soft lips with his own. Slowly moving his tongue against hers. Making due on his promise.
Tiny pebbles were imprinting themselves in Michonne's knee, she moved just a little to relieve some of her discomforts, but found none. The wind had picked up speed within the last hour, whipping Michonne's hair in her face, her thin long sleeve shirt offering little protection.
Eenie.
Meenie.
Minie.
Mo.
He stopped in front of her, the bat at his side, she didn't think it was possible his grin could get any wider, but it did, showing off practically all of his teeth. Michonne told herself to not look away, maintain eye contact even though she felt the tears coming. He winked at her and moved to Carl.
Catch.
A Tiger. By its toe.
Michonne's heartbeat felt sluggish as if sand was filling up in her chest making it harder for her heart to beat. Time slowed down as well with each step he took and each word he utter, Michonne felt like this night would never end.
Movement to the left of her, unknown men grabbed the figure that kneeled next to her, people shouting no and loud cries could be heard, but Michonne felt her throat closing up.
"If anyone moves, cut the other boy's eye out and feed it to his father. You all can breathe. You can blink. You can cry." He laughs, "Hell you all will be doing that."
Michonne watched him swing the bat, everything within her wanted to look away, but instead she craned her neck. Something within in her needed to know who it was that was being beaten to death. She felt herself moving, but then a hand grabbing her arm, forcing her to look away from the gruesome sight. It was Rick, his eyes spoke the words that he couldn't say. 'Don't move.'
SPLAT!
Her head swiveled to the squishing sounds, she squinted her eyes to see better despite the lights shining all over the area. The body on the ground no longer had a head. The man stopped swinging the bat.
"That motherfucker took it like a champ."
Drenched in so much blood it looked as if the bat was bleeding, blood trailing from it as the man strutted towards Rick, breathing heavy from his strenuous task.
"What was his name?"
Michonne licked her lips, her eyes darted from the man to the body on the ground, back to the man, then to Rick and that's when she felt herself give in. Tears fell fast on her cheek, she looked back to the man and saw the satisfaction on his face that he broke her. Michonne opened her mouth, ignoring her dry cracked lips.
"Morgan. His name was Morgan."