"I just want one person I can rescue and I want one person who needs me. Who can't live without me. I want to be a hero, but not just one time."
― Chuck Palahniuk, Choke

"Why are you whispering?"

"So the spider can't hear me. How far are you?"

"Less than two minutes."

"I had no one else to call, Rick. I had called the 24hr maintenance guy and every second that goes by tells me he is taking his sweet time or he really means I have to wait."

"No problem, Michonne. I'm on my way. How long have you been waiting?"

"Ten whole fucking minutes! Asshole wants me to wait until he can call pest control. He doesn't seem to understand by that time I would be carried off into its web. Hurry Rick. Please hurry."

"Calm down Michonne. Breathe. I am on my way."

"If it moves I am going to shit myself, Rick."

"Breathe..."

"Any more breathing I will hyperventilate."

"I've just parked my car."

"Don't hang up, Rick!"

"I'm not going to hang up, Michonne. What is your apartment number?"

"209. Second floor. Please, hurry!"

Michonne was in a near panic upon the visual sight of Rick standing near her open doorway. She was standing on her sofa in fear.

"Over there, Rick, be careful!" Michonne spoke into her cell.

"Can we hang up?"

Michonne nodded and pointed in the direction to where the culprit hid.

Rick wasn't sure exactly where over there was, so he looked under his feet where he stood on a welcome mat that informed him about hugs and kisses. He didn't see a spider.

"Where, Michonne?" Rick needed Michonne to be more precise.

"Under the can of Raid by the door. You have to step more inside. Right by the door, Rick."

"Under a can of bug spray?"

"I opened the door for it. It wouldn't walk out. It was coming towards me. I threw the can at it so it would turn around but it kept coming.

"Was throwing a can of bug spray part of the directions, or did you skip over the part that said to press nozzle and aim?" Rick cavalierly leaned down to pick up the can but noticed the most gigantic spider he had ever come across up close and personal. He jumped farther inside of Michonne's apartment while Michonne let out a heart-stopping scream.

"What the fuck, Michonne! That's not a fucking spider, that is a monster!"

"Get it, Kill it, Rick! Just make sure it doesn't have any babies. Please please please move it along. Shoo it. Shoo it away.

"How!? I would need to shoot it or burn it with fire!"

"What do you suggest, Rick?"

"We can get some other things around here to throw at it, or we can shoot it or burn it with fire."

The two of them were surprised to have a random neighbor appear who had introduced himself as Eugene. He was the one who had actually saved the evening.

"What is the commotion?" Eugene asked.

"There's a spider!" Michonne shouted.

"What kind?" Eugene asked calmly.

"There's what one would call a spider, and then there's otherworldly that needs a pistol to take it down." Rick scoffed at the idea that he or Michonne could name what type of spider. Spider, Tarantula.

"Well, then I am your man!"

"Over there by the can." Michonne pointed with one hand while her other rested on Rick's shoulder.

Eugene noticed the gigantic arachnid. He picked it up and left.

Rick literally had to carry a temporarily traumatized Michonne out of her apartment that night. She had worked herself up to the point she swore the spider gave birth to babies. He offered his place to stay without any hesitation. It would be the first time he had her over. He had left her in the living room to look around while he retrieved an extra pillow and a blanket since she had declined his offer that she take his bed, and he would sleep on his couch.

"Do you have a t-shirt, Rick?"

"T-shirt?"

"Something I can sleep in? If you don't mind? I can wash my clothes. You have a washer and dryer inside your apartment. I've calculated in my mind some things, and it doesn't add up, Rick. Unless there are some subsidies due to your health condition."

"Ha, ha. Now take this, and I will find something for you to sleep in. I only have a powder room. You will have to follow me into my bedroom to get to my bathroom if you want to shower, or if you need to..."

Rick fought to keep his eyes level with hers while she was looking at him. At that moment, she had placed what he had given her on his sofa, and he quickly scanned every single curve he could before he had her full attention again.

"What?"

"Do you want to follow me?" Rick offered.

"You either really want me to shower or really want me to see what your subsidy provided in your choice of living arrangement."

"What is your problem?"

"I know how much I make an hour. I know how much you make, or I like to think I do. You sit across from me at work, barely taking phone calls. You harass me to help you get from, hello to some meaningful conversation with two women who would no more enhance your life than investing in a blow-up doll. The only difference––well less sexy and more human but still."

"Yes, still! I still don't get your point! Meaningless drivel. Now let me give you a tour." Rick grabs Michonne's hand. "This is my living area. If I am not at work, this is where I spend most of my time. In front of the television. Here's my kitchen. Off in that area where you've already ventured is my laundry room. Right here is my bedroom. I make my bed every morning. The reason it is in disarray is that you had called me, frantic over a spider. I being a good friend to you, did what?"

"Rescued me?"

"I was there for you. I didn't give you a hard time or make you wait. I didn't blow you off. I'm baffled about what women want. I shouldn't have to flash money to gain your interest. I'm not going out of my way to reveal things to make a woman more interested in me. It's not genuine if it resorts to that. I am looking for someone who is genuine and I genuinely get along with. That's what I am looking for and it's not Lori or Jessie no matter what you think."

"Well, I am no one's fool. How do you have a new car and this place on the salary we make? I can't help having logic makes me believe your name is not just any other name affiliated with dirt, sludge or slime. I'm just saying. I won't say anything more than oooh Lalala. I love your bathroom!"

Rick's open bathroom door distracted Michonne from her tangent. Michonne wasted no time. She closed the door on Rick's face and prepared herself to sit in the most luxurious soaking tub. She found heaven, and Rick dwelled upon a dilemma. He was painfully attracted to Michonne. Rick quietly chanted in his mirror, like he had done every morning before going to work and every night before jacking off before bed, in hopes of manifesting Michonne in between his Egyptian cotton sheets.

Please God let this happen. I promise I will not tell a soul!