The Charge – Chapter 16

Michonne turn and twist on the sofa. Who was she kidding? She couldn't sleep…not with the image of Rascolli's dead body flashing over and over in her mind. In addition to that, there was a severe throbbing pain all over her body especially on her left side where the bullet struck the bullet proof vest.

She sucked in a deep breath and sat upright fast. It was the worst thing she could have done. The pain ripped through her body and she exhaled with difficulty. She slid over to check on Rick and he was sleeping peacefully, his breathing returning to a steady flow. His skin was warm to the touch so she needs to keep an eye out for infection and fever.

Once he gets through a night or two without it, then he would be totally in the clear. In the far corner were her dress and Rick's clothes. She decided to get them washed and dried. Rick needs his clothes when he wakes up and she needs the distraction. She grabbed then up and headed straight to the washroom.~*~*~*

With clothes chilling in the drier, she stood in front of the hallway mirror in her underwear. The area over her ribcage was black, swollen and painful to the touch. Her ribs were badly bruised but don't seem to be broken. She then decided to check on the status of the events that just unfolded. Disappearing into her room, she returned with a laptop, another disposable phone and a cable cord.

Turning it on, she plugged one end of the cord to the phone and the other end to the laptop and punched in a code and waited. Seconds later, it beeped.

Internet feed and phone line secured

She surfed the net, opening different windows and the only thing that was trending is the attempted assassination of Rick Grimes. Articles made mentioned of an Agent getting killed during the shootout but there weren't any pictures of his body and for that she was relieved. All of the media outlets linked this latest attack to the first and concluded that Rick is the definitive target.

She clicked on a video clip of Director Thomas addressing several media houses and a small smile came to her lips. She cursed him out in a room full of people and when they meet again, there's going to be hell to pay but at this point she doesn't care.

She's sure they've traced the sedan to the parking lot. She hoped her new friend is not there, that he was long gone, knowing that trouble would find him.

Sasha and Andrea flashed in her head. They are probably worried sick about her. She wanted to call them so badly, tell them that she's ok but she knows she couldn't. Atleast not as yet. Agent Rascolli's body flashed in her head again and tears brimmed her eyes.

She needed to get out of the house…clear her head. Showering quickly she pulled on a track pants, white vest and a jacket and checking on Rick once more, she walked out into the night.~*~*~*

The night was cool and calm but not particularly peaceful, with slithers of moonlight peaking through the trees here and there. Birds, crickets, owls and frogs sang back and forth to each other. It was harmonious and it soothed her. The air was fresh and clean and as she was barefoot, she decided to walk along the gravel road.

A small stream ran partial along the road but the water ran silently. It was nice. It remaindered her of the times she used to come here to visit her grandmother and the fruit trees that she raided. She remembered the exact spot and she stopped, memories flashing rapidly.

There was this one particular mango that she loved but the name slipped her. It was huge with plenty of meat and tiny tiny seed in the middle. She was tempted to venture toward the trees but decided against it because she was barefooted.

She continued walking down the path and stopped abruptly. She heard something. It sounded like a cry. No…several cries. It was coming from the opposite side of the stream. Crouching down, she focused her ears and there it was again.

Cries...desperate young cries. She raced back to house, grabbing a torchlight, slippers from the kitchen and most importantly, her gun. Returning, she followed the cries in the bushes and came upon a small, dirty moving box. The whimpers were louder and she opened it.

Her heart sank. There were four puppies, wet, shivering and caked in mud. They looked to be around two months old. She looked around cautiously before reaching into the box. They gathered around her hand, biting at her fingers. They were hungry. She couldn't leave them there. She gathered the box under her arm and went back to the house.~*~*~*

She filled the bath with enough warm water to barely cover them. One by one she put them in and began giving them a bath. They were emaciated but lively. There was warm milk cooling on the stove. She couldn't believe that people still abandoned their pets on the land after all these years.

It is something her grandmother dealt with, finding suitable homes for them. She remembers helping her grandmother post fliers on poles and in the supermarkets. A few were too far gone to be helped and they would say a short prayer and bury them.

She would also cry. On further examination, she discovered that it was three boys and one girl and they all had different colours. One male was black with white uneven patches on his paws and tail. The second male was brown with a white ring around his neck.

The third male was pure brown from head to toe and the lone female was white with a single black patch around the right eye. She was the smallest but was as feisty as her brothers. The only common trait is their light hazel brown eyes.

They enjoyed their bath as they played together, barking and growling at each other. After bath time and with a bowl of milk and a syringe, she sat down in the living room, a short distance from Rick.

She gathered them on a towel between her legs and fed them, one full syringe for each of them on every turn. The sister fought her brothers for their share as they drank and they successfully fended her off. She nipped at Michonne's fingers anxiously waiting for her turn again so she named her Nibbles.

After they had their fill, Nibbles and her brothers wasted no time is getting to sleep. They curled up into a warm ball on the towel between Michonne's legs. In minutes they were fast asleep. She moved away gently and flopped down on the sofa. That was the last thing she remembered.~*~*~*

The alarm clock rang off at 5:45 am sharp and Michonne opened her eyes with a quick glance at Rick and his breathing was the same. She checked his temperature and he was significantly cooler than last night. That was a positive sign. She looked around and the puppies were nowhere to be seen.

Seconds later they reappeared from the hallway all jolly and a sickening feeling came over her. She went into the corridor and saw that they had left little puddles and soft stacks of presents for her to clean up.

"Really?" she mumbled to herself as she walked into the kitchen and retrieve a mop, mop bucket with water, tissue and bleach. She got down on her knees.

"I guess I should be grateful it was the living room carpet."

Barks drew her attention. While the others ran around Rick, chasing each other, Nibbles was near Rick's face barking at him. She barked and barked and barked. Michonne laughed. Today would be interesting.~*~*~*

At 6am, she fed the puppies and this time took them outside relieve themselves. They also got some exercise running around in the falling leaves. At 7:10am, they were back inside where she showered and checked her own rib bruises. The pain lessened abit but the swelling was still evident. Her breathing was less laboured as well.

She threw on a red, loose fitting boy shorts and a cream tank top. She checked Rick pulse and other vital signs and gave him another bed bath, changing the towels underneath him in the process. Again she couldn't help but notice Rick bodily structure. He had both a face and the body to match…a deadly combination in some men.

After his bath, she cleaned his wounds. At exactly 8am, she called the Grimes Residence. Mrs Grimes answered.

"Mrs Grimes. This is Agent Atwell."

"Agent Atwell! How is Rick?"

Michonne knew the phones would be monitors so she had to be concise.

"He made it through the night without infection but is still unconscious…"

"Oh God!"

Michonne continued.

"That is a good sign Mrs Grimes. I just finished cleaned his wounds. He just needs to rest."

She ended the call and rang back 10 seconds later.

"Is it possible for us to see him or it could just be me?! Please!"

The heartbreak in Elizabeth's voice pained Michonne but her duty was to protect Rick and she just couldn't risk it.

"I'm sorry Mrs Grimes but someone is trying to kill your son and until we know who it is Rick's best bet is him staying with me."

She ended the call once again and redialled another ten seconds later.

"Do you think that it's one of us?"

"Only a small circle of people knew about Rick's whereabouts that night so anything is possible."

"Ok." She paused. "Agent Atwell?"

"Yes?"

"Promise me the minute Rick wakes up you will have him call me. Promise me!"

"Yes ma'am."

She was gone.~*~*~*

There was nothing much she could do at the cottage with Rick unconscious. She needed to question him about any and everything. She didn't want to suspect the people closest to him but she had to entertain it.

She also had to consider that Rick may have told a close friend about the private engagement who may have told a third party. Then there's another somewhat seemingly logical option, that it may just be a total stranger or political opponent who didn't like Rick and wanted him out of the political race.

Using her CIA password on the CIA database to get information on all the evidence collected at the scene was risky. The media outlet had nothing new to offer in terms of theories so all she could do is sit and wait. On the bright side, even with an unconscious Rick, she wasn't alone.

When the puppies weren't using Rick as a mountain to practice their climbs, jumps and to run around, they followed her everywhere. To the kitchen, back patio, bedroom and even to the bathroom. She didn't mind though. She even played with them many times during the day as well.

Several times however, Nibbles would disappear and she would find her barking at Rick and occasionally nipping at his fingers and toes. She removed her, keeping a very watchful eye to her every movement.

The day passed relatively quickly and night set in. She fed Nibbles and her brothers again and let them outside briefly. By 8 pm, everyone was tucked in tight for the night. She checked on Rick for the last time and she retired to her own bed, laptop in tow. Minutes later, there were cries at her door.

She barely opened the door and the three boys rushed in. They settled casually on her bedroom slippers at the foot of her bed. She walked to the living room and there Nibbles was, looking at Rick intently, a gentle wagging of her tail. Seconds later, she curled up at the top of Rick head against his hair. She left her bedroom door open.~*~*~*

Nibbles constant barking finally forced Michonne out of her sleep and when she investigates she could see why. Rick had turn on his good side. Nibbles's tiny body was shaking with excitement and her tail wagged wildly. Michonne was at their side.

"Rick! Rick! Can you hear me?!"

He exhaled and his eyes opened slightly. Nibbles started licking his face and he groaned. Michonne pushed her away gentle and she whimpered impatiently. She brushed the hair that was in Rick's face and touched the stubbles on his face. She smiled at Nibbles.

"And here I thought you didn't like him. I'm excited too Nibbles but he still needs some rest."

Nibbles were wagging her tail again and Michonne petted her.

"So you're a daddy's little girl huh?"

Michonne was mortified as the words left her mouth. 'Daddy's little girl?' Where did that come from? She looked at Rick and was relieved that his eyes were closed again. She fled to her room but Nibbles remained by Rick's side.~*~*~*

Michonne fell asleep and woke up with her uttered words on her mind. She made herself a hot cup of coffee. Rick was still on his side and it appeared that he was sleeping. Nibbles was also sleeping but the boys were up and about.

She really needs to give them names. Their sister certainly earned hers. The coffee didn't help to clear her mind so she decided to go for a quick swim in the lake behind the house. Today could be the day Rick wakes up and so they could get down to business.

She stripped down to a long vest and underwear and entered. The water was beastly cold and she rubbed her hands together to get some measure of warmth. The boys followed her but as soon as the cold water touched their feet, they ran back to the back patio, contented to watching her from there.

She swam to the middle of the lake but it was too much. She swam back and sprinted to the house, grabbed the towel and dried off the excess water but the boys weren't there. They were all barking inside the house and she went in. Rick was sitting on the floor, covers wrapped securely around his waist, holding his injured shoulder. His eyes stared curiously and followed Nibbles eagerly running half out of her mind back and forth in front of him.

Her excitement level was at 1000% but her siblings sat alittle way off barking and howling at him. Suddenly she stopped mid stride and ran toward Rick, jumping on him. She tried climbing to reach his face but her legs weren't strong enough. To Michonne surprise and comfort Rick assisted her and she licked his face energetically. He chuckled.

"Now…who might you be and why are my fingers and toes sore?"

Michonne stepped from behind the wall.

"That's Nibbles…"

Rick's eyes shot up towards her startled. He didn't know she was even there.

"And as her name suggest, it's the reason for the state of your fingers."

He smiled.

"Hey."

She smiled back.

"Hey."

The other puppies approached Rick cautiously, smelling him, sizing him up as friend or foe. Seconds later they were wagging their tails at him.

"And what are their names?"

"I'm still working on them."

Abruptly, she rushed over to him.

"You're bleeding!"

She examined his shoulder but Nibbles wanted his attention. He put her down and she raced off with the others.

"I'll be right back!"

Michonne disappeared and returned with the first aid kit and a glass of water. She prepared the bandages.

"Where are we?"

"At my cottage. We're in the countryside. It's the only safe place I could think of given what happened and we not knowing who to trust."

He nodded at the playing brood a short distance away from them.

"Did they come with the house as well?"

She laughed.

"No. I found them almost around the same time we arrived. They were abandoned in the bushes down by the road so I took them in. They kept me company."

He laughed.

"It's nice and peaceful."

"It is and that's the point. It's somewhere I can think without anyone breathing down my neck for answers."

She opened the kit and took out two pills from a case and gave him.

"Take this. It's for the pain."

He popped them in his mouth. She straddled him partially to clean and disinfect the wounds. The bullets holes were starting to close up so she decided to stitch it. She thread the needle.

"What are you doing?"

"I'm going to stitch you up. I couldn't do it before because the bullet holes were too wide. Once the holes starts closing up, I will pull less skin during the stitching process thus minimizing any scar tissue that may form."

"Wow! I didn't know that. So what we see on TV is b.s.?"

"Pretty much."

"So the ladies don't really like scars?"

Michonne glanced up and began to stitch him up.

"Actually some ladies do."

"Do you?"

She paused briefly, thinking then continued.

"If there's a good story behind it…yeah."

"How about a senator hopeful trying to do good who survived not one but two assassination attempts and was shot twice in the shoulder but would gladly get shot again and again just so the woman of his dreams can take him to a secret location and stitch him up over and over?"

Michonne blinked several times at Rick but his eyes were fully locked to hers. He lifted his knees forcing her body to slide forward slowly, until it jammed against his. It was hot and she exhaled quick, sharp breaths.

"Is that a good enough story for you?"

His voice was now a husky whisper and he raised his upper body to hers. His lips were mere centimetres from hers.

"Tell me Michonne. Would you consider those scars?"

Their lips touched and she held her breath...eyes fluttering closed.~*~*~*

This right here is far from what she was expecting the evening to go. Her boundaries are being pushed….professionally and personally. Rick is a good and kind man who she had come to admire and respect as both her charge and as her friend. The attraction was there…in every smile and in every interest he took in her personal projects. It was building.

She let him in in ways she never expected and he was beginning to take root. The panic she felt after Rascolli took a bullet protecting him and in the car park, fearing that he was dead or dying on her maimed her more than she cared to admit. Here and now is the next level. Should she cross it or should she flee? His lips touched hers. She didn't pull back.~*~*~*

Rick's lips gently devoured Michonne half expecting her to retreat but she didn't. His good hand held the back of her neck and he opened his mouth wider and went all in. He leaned his head to the side, forcing her mouth open fully and their tongues touch.

Her body jerked from the unexpected sensual touch and she exhaled deeply through her nose. They continued like that, kissing slow...deep...passionately for no less than five full minutes, with her hands on his chest giving futile resistance.

Their foreheads touched when their lips finally retreated from each other and their eyes remained closed. They opened them almost simultaneously and locked, searching each other. Only a minute passed when Rick's hand slipped down to her waist. Michonne quietly resumed the stitching.~*~*~*