*Comes out of hiding* Hey guys! It's been…over a month I think. Which is ridiculous, I know, I know. But in my admittedly flimsy defense, November kicked my ass. I was trying to finish an original novel for NaNoWriMo. I was swamped with work. My social life was demanding. And on top of that, I had some newly discovered thirst for Michael B. Jordan to work through. So, as you can see, I was really going through it.
BUT, the wait is over. I'm back with a new chapter that hopefully makes up for my absence. I'm thinking December is going to be a little slower so I'm going to try to update as much as I can.
As always, thank you so much for your support. Your kind words and not-so-gentle nudging helped me get this one out. I love you all and I hope you enjoy this chapter!
Nine
And I know I've kissed you before, but
I didn't do it right
Can I try again, try again, try again – Mitski – Pink in the Night
"Do you remember where it is?" Michonne asked, shoulder holding her phone up to her ear as she ruffled through her jewelry box.
Rick chuckled on the other line, his voice a little fuzzy when he spoke. "Yes, Michonne, 1496 Green Meadow Ave, the townhouse with the blue mailbox, right?"
"Right?" She fussed. "But I know finding my street in the complex can be a little difficult, I just want to make sure-"
"I'm pulling up now," Rick interrupted her. "I'm right behind your little car."
"Shit," Michonne huffed, grabbing the necklace she was looking for out of the box and rushing down the stairs to get the door.
Rick was chuckling as he ambled up her driveway. She couldn't help but bite down on her bottom lip as she took him in. He wasn't necessarily dressed dramatically different from how he usually was, but Michonne could tell he'd put some extra effort into getting ready. The black jeans he wore looked fresh and new, clinging perfectly to his strong legs. Tucked into them was a crisp white button-down shirt, a couple of buttons under the collar opened up. Rick, as always, had forgone any frills, he completed his look with a clean pair of black cowboy boots, an unassuming belt, and his father's watch. He looked good in his clothes, great even, but with his curls pushed back away from his face and his salt and pepper beard sheared close to his jaws, Michonne struggled to stay standing.
"Hey there, sweet thang," he greeted as he reached her doorstep, leaning in to wrap her up in his strong arms for a short hug. She breathed in his clean, masculine scent, closing her eyes briefly. "You're lookin' mighty fine tonight. Even more so than usual."
Michonne had spent the week grilling Rick on the dress code for the dinner they were attending. He'd described the entire event in the most nonchalant terms he could find. Constantly telling her that it was just a few friends getting together and saying that it was "nothin' fancy." While she believed him, his platitudes hadn't given her any ideas as to what type of clothes would be appropriate. She'd been lost until she'd taken the initiative to look the place up herself. "The Barn" boasted itself as King County's chicest restaurant. A real-life barn turned bistro, it was apparently used as a venue for all types of gatherings from wedding receptions to small anniversary dinners to graduation parties. Michonne thought it was a little odd that they'd chosen the place for such a "casual" gathering, but she figured it was probably the only real option in a town as small as King County.
She'd decided to go with something similar to what she'd have worn to a nice BBQ cookout. Freshly showered and with smooth brown skin glistening, Michonne wore a white romper with thin black stripes spanning the entire garment vertically. The romper was sleeveless with short ruffles along the shoulders. Dipping in the front to reveal a tasteful hint of cleavage, it tied in a long, relaxed bow along her small waist and fell a few inches above her knees. Her long locs flowed freely past her shoulders and pushed behind her ears to show medium sized hoops. She finished the outfit off with thick-heeled white sandals and small white purse with a long shoulder strap.
Michonne spared a glance down her body at his comment, smoothing out a couple of invisible wrinkles. "Thank you, Rick. You...You look handsome too. I like the new boots."
"Oh yeah?" He asked, leaning back on his heels with a small smile across his pink lips.
"Yeah," Michonne nodded eagerly. "They're very...Woody from Toy Story."
Rick let out a playful growl before he reached out to tug one of her locs in retaliation. "You better watch out, Michonne. You might hurt my poor feelings jokin' around on me like that."
She took a second to turn around and close her front door, making sure it was locked before she turned back to him with a smirk. "I only do it because I know you can take it."
He reached out to clasp her hand, interlocking their fingers. "You're right, I can take anything you've got to give, sweet thing."
Michonne bit down on her bottom lip, unable to make her eyes stray from Rick's. It was well before sunset, the sky still pretty, blue, and all lit up. He seemed illuminated before her, his skin pink and healthy and his eyes endless and happy. She was sure she could have looked at him forever and never get tired of seeing his visage. But they had other things to get to, things that Rick reluctantly reminded her of.
"We better go," he said, tugging her towards his truck. "It's a bit of a drive back to King County."
Their ride to the small Georgia town lasted a little under an hour and a half thanks to rush hour traffic. As Rick's large black truck ambled out of the city and down the highway, Michonne waited to feel some form of regret or discomfort. She never did. Their conversation strayed from their favorite Motown deep cut to a playful discussion about a Stanley Kubrick conspiracy theory. She laughed, debated, rolled her eyes plenty, but she never had to grip her seat to ease her anxiety or push down nausea born out of regret.
Farther into King County, Rick pulled into a relatively new but small housing development. Perfectly laid black tar roads and neatly manicured lawns lead the way until he pulled up on the curb of a nice two-story traditional style home. It was obviously where Carl lived with Rick's ex-wife. Michonne wondered if Rick had lived in the house at one point too. For some reason, she couldn't imagine him there. After having seen his current home, she thought it fit him perfectly. Simplistic and warm. The house before her could almost be classified as a McMansion and picturing him shuffling around inside in just his sweatpants was just as laughable as it was uncomfortable for her. He left the car with a reassuring smile and reappeared only a couple minutes later with Carl running excitedly next to him.
"Hey, Michonne," the boy greeted as he buckled himself into the backseat.
She turned around in her seat to greet him with her smile. "Hey, Carl. You excited for tonight?"
Carl nodded his head, his long brown hair shifting with the movement. "Yeah, I'm excited to see my uncle Daryl again," Carl paused, then looked over at Rick. "Mom said he got married while he was gone. Is that true? Why didn't we go?"
Michonne looked over a Rick too, her eyes widening in surprise at the awkward question. Rick went a little red in the cheeks and neck before he addressed his son.
"Uh, uncle Daryl didn't really invite anybody, bud. He said it was something he needed to do on his own," Rick paused then spared a quick glance at Michonne. She didn't even have time to decipher the slightly apologetic look in his eye before he continued. "But we're celebrating tonight. Daryl is having us all meet at The Barn so we can meet his new husband."
Carl seemed to accept the explanation easily, replying with "cool" before his attention turned to his phone. Michonne, on the other hand, was much less calm. In an effort not to make a scene in front of the boy in the backseat she shot Rick a scalding look before pinching the bridge of her nose.
She'd known that she would be meeting some of Rick's friends at the dinner. And as terrifying as that was, she'd been comforted by the fact that it was a relatively pressure-free situation. Finding out that it was actually a de-facto wedding reception for Rick's best friend changed everything. What place did she have showing up to such an intimate gathering between loved ones as the woman Rick Grimes was kind of - sort of dating?
This was big, and she knew it. You didn't bring someone to a wedding celebration unless you were serious about them. She'd told Rick that she was willing to give the two of them a try and she hadn't been lying - not in the slightest. But when she'd agreed to try, she'd been of the impression that it would go slowly. Sitting there, in the passenger side seat of his truck, she became fully aware that this outing would take them from slow to...well, she wasn't exactly sure, but she knew it couldn't be classified as anything close to slow.
Neither she or Rick said anything to each other as he drove. Michonne was too busy trying to take stock of the conflicting emotions running through her head. A part of her was terrified at the thought that she was about to meet some very important people in Rick's life at a very important event. Another part was blisteringly angry at him for throwing her into it without warning. The last part, small and quiet, tucked behind the other two, was a bit warmed that he was so eager to have her in the mix so early.
Thoughts and feelings swirling, Michonne barely had a handle on them by the time they pulled into a gravel parking lot in front of a large red barn. Even from the car it was easy to see the charm of the place. None of the pictures had done the place justice. Beautifully painted, with thick framed windows along the top, and a front covered in white fairy lights, it looked like something out of a country fairytale.
Staring at the large structure in silent awe, she briefly heard Rick to tell Carl to run along ahead of them. Then, seconds later, the man was at her door, opening it up and standing before her with a sheepish look on his face.
"Mich-" she held up a hand, stopping him before he could get her name out fully.
Aside from the fact that Rick had hidden the truth from her, she knew that things were going to be changed between them afterward. It wasn't just dinner with friends, it meant something. Even if Rick didn't fully know what he was doing or want to acknowledge it, she knew. Michonne understood that he fully intended to hold her to her word and try to make something happen between them. She wanted to stay mad, to rage, to refuse to get out of the car, to throw insults and harsh words at the silent man standing in front of her. She couldn't though, he'd tried to pull a ridiculous stunt, and she was definitely going to take him to task for omitting the truth later, but she wouldn't cause a scene and bail on him. And as nervous as she was, she realized that she didn't want to.
"Rick let's," she stopped to clear her throat when the words came out shaky. "Let's just enjoy this dinner first. We'll talk about the fact that you lied to me about it later."
Rick's eyes widened as if he was only just realizing what he'd done. She could see the panic filling him from a mile away. "Hold on now, I didn't mean to-"
Michonne cut him off again with a small smile that she hoped comforted him. She had no plans to end their friendship over his indiscretion, but she wasn't letting him off scot-free. "Later, Rick. I'll read you the riot act after we're both full."
He nodded and helped her down and out of the truck. Then, he paused and turned to her as she stood before him. "So, I meant to tell you this earlier but…" he trailed off, shaking his head. "My friends ain't sober, there's definitely going to be some liquor flowin' in there. If you get uncomfortable, just let me know okay? We can leave whenever you want."
Michonne reached out and rested a soft hand on his shoulder. "Sure," she nodded. "As long as you do the same."
"I can live with that."
Rick reached up, placing his hand on top of the one she had touching him. Connected by skin, they stood quietly for a few beats, just staring at one another. He pulled away first, tucking his keys into his pocket before leading her towards the entrance of the restaurant.
They walked into The Barn hand in hand. Michonne's heart thudded fast behind her ribcage as the perky young hostess lead them into a separated back room. She could hear the low, steady murmur of voices more and more as they neared the entrance. She swallowed a bit as she spotted the group of people sat around a long, large buffet style dining table. There were about twelve or thirteen people seated around the table conversing amongst themselves. Michonne spotted Carl at the center of the table on the side nearest the door. He was chatting excitedly with a man with long brown hair dressed in a black button down and a black motorcycle vest. Next to him stood another man, one with even longer brown hair, a white button down, and a leather jacket. The one speaking to Carl looked up at her and Rick, his eyes widening as he laid eyes on her. Within seconds all three of them made their way over.
The man in the motorcycle vest shared a small smile with Rick before greeting them. "Rick," he said, his voice gravelly. "This is Jesus, my husband. Jesus, this is Rick Grimes, my best friend."
His accent was slightly similar to Rick's but somehow, a little less refined. It only made the differences between the two men a little starker.
"Hey man," Rick said, his voice so full of emotion that it made Michonne furrow her brows in concern. "Good to meet you," He and Jesus exchanged a heartfelt handshake before Rick brought him in for a hug.
Once they pulled away, Rick placed a warm hand at the small of Michonne's back. "Michonne, this is Daryl Dixon. Some asshole I've known since I was barely knee high," she flashed a smile at Daryl, who was looking at Rick with a quiet fondness. "Daryl, this is," Rick looked at her, "this is my...Michonne."
"Your, Michonne?" the man in front of them put extra emphasis on the possessive word.
"Yes," Rick said simply.
"Well alright then," Daryl said with a smile before he opened his arms, silently asking Michonne for a hug. She wasn't sure what compelled her to do it, but she leaned in and wrapped her arms around him. It only lasted for seconds, but it succeeded in making her feel more comfortable. It was childish and maybe a bit insecure sounding, but knowing that Rick's best friend approved her in some fashion made her significantly less anxious.
"Everybody shut the fuck up," Daryl shouted out as soon as they pulled away from each other. She heard Carl giggle next to her. "Rick is here, and he's brought his Michonne. Now we can finally get this shit started!"
Daryl had saved her, Rick, and Carl seats at the center of the table on the other side of them. Michonne wedged herself between the boy and his father, taking a sip of the water that sat near her plate as soon as she got comfortable in her chair.
The first portion of the dinner involved quite a bit of fan fair. Everyone around the table began introducing themselves excitedly. In the middle of a story about Rick and Daryl pantsing a bully in high school, two waiters entered the room and took the individual orders of everyone at the table. The raised talking voices and jovial laughter of everyone seated around her probably should have been nerve-wracking or annoying. Instead, the noise comforted her. Seeing so many people who obviously cared about one another seated around one table enjoying themselves filled her with something that felt an awful lot like warmth.
After she placed her order, the conversation flowed surprisingly well. She made comfortable small talk with Daryl and his new husband, joked with Rick, and had a few rounds of hangman with Carl on a disposable dinner napkin. It wasn't until she took her first bite of the fried chicken sandwich she'd ordered that the blonde woman, who'd introduced herself as Jessie earlier, sitting across the table from Rick spoke to her.
"So, Michonne, how did you and Rick meet?" She asked perkily, continuing before Michonne could answer. "We've known each other for forever, I went to middle and high school with him and Daryl and a few of the people here. We used to be really close."
Michonne spared a glance at Rick, noting that he had one of his eyebrows raised. She presumed Jessie was lying about their closeness, but she had no interest in bringing it up. Instead, Michonne thought back to the question the blonde had asked. She wasn't quite sure how to answer. She wanted to lie. To say that she and Rick had met at her bakery or at the gym. She didn't have time to think up something simple and believable before Rick gave an answer of his own.
"We met in Alcoholics Anonymous," he said, voice full of something that wasn't necessarily confidence but was far from shame. It was the only explanation he gave before he dug into his pork chop.
She spared a glance at Jessie, noting the shock on her face. Michonne chose to ignore it, picking up her sandwich and gearing up to take another bite of the crispy, succulent chicken breast. She had to physically hold back a groan when Jessie spoke again.
"S-so," she stuttered out. "So, you're...uh...you're an alcoholic too then? Like Rick?"
"Jesus, Jess," Michonne was once again interrupted. This time by Aaron, a man sitting on the other side of Rick. "You sure know how to bring down a party huh?"
Jessie let out a nervous giggle, looking down at her plate. For her part, the woman did look genuinely ashamed. Almost as if it hadn't even occurred to her that asking a question like that so bluntly to someone you'd just met might be frowned upon. Still, Michonne had no intention of comforting her for her faux pas.
"Yeah," Michonne spoke out. "I am an alcoholic. One in recovery. Just like Rick."
At her answer, Rick reached up, grasping the hand she had resting on top of the table. He gave her a squeeze and instead of moving, stayed there, causing Michonne to shoot him a warm smile.
"Just like me," he said loud enough for both her and Jessie to hear.
The rest of dinner passed went on relatively well. After her misstep, Jessie stayed to herself, conversing with the boyfriend who sat next to her. Michonne couldn't help but take note of the small looks she shot Rick's way every once in a while. He barely spared her another glance though, something Michonne felt bad about secretly enjoying.
Once everyone had finished the cake Daryl had brought, she noticed Jesus signaling for everyone at the table to settle down. Michonne watched on in amusement as the two men's silent argument ended with Daryl letting out a small groan and standing up from the table, wine glass in hand. He rolled his eyes as all eyes moved to him.
"Now y'all know I ain't so good with words," he drew a round of chuckles. "Hell, this might be the most I've spoken in weeks. But I wanted to thank everybody for comin' out tonight. Aaron and Eric made took time away from their new baby girl. Andrea managed to escape from her geriatric sugar daddy for the night." The woman in question gave Daryl the middle finger in response. "And Rick found it in himself to make it, even though I was a shitty friend by keeping this shit from him for so long."
Daryl and Rick looked at one another from across the table. In their eyes held all the love two brothers could have.
"Ricky, even though I had to give everybody grape juice instead of liquor for your sake tonight, I want to thank you for being here. You're my best friend. The one who supported me when no one else did. The one who made sure that I didn't have to spend my life hiding under cars for a livin'. I know I was wrong for keepin' you in the dark, but you're still my brother, and I want to thank you for supporting me once again."
Rick granted Daryl a grin and a nod as if silently offering the other man his forgiveness.
"Good," Daryl said with a laugh. "You'll be the first one I tell the next time I get married, I swear." The man jokingly feigned pain as his husband reached up and pinched him hard on the thigh. "Well, now that that's done, it's time for you motherfuckers to leave. We only booked the room for two hours."
Michonne heard Carl laugh raucously next to her at the curse. Feeling almost gleeful at the open display of love being shown, she reached out and put an arm around the boy's shoulders. "What are you laughing at?"
"Nothin'," he said, trying to damper his chuckles.
"That's the second time tonight you've heard somebody cursing. I think your dad and Daryl are a bad influence on you."
"No!" Carl insisted, his face so serious that it made Michonne let out a laugh of her own.
"Well, you'd better not let your parents hear you repeating any of the words your bad uncle Daryl and dad said tonight," she said.
Carl smiled up at her. "I already know to keep my cussin' at school, Michonne. Don't worry."
The bark of laughter she let out would have disturbed the peace had the room not already been set alive with voices.
Rick, Carl, and Michonne were the last guests to leave. Walking out to their car with Daryl and Jesus as the 11-year-old and Daryl's new husband talked about Captain America's fate post Infinity War 2.
"So how long are you in town for?" Rick asked Daryl as they neared Rick's big truck.
"A few weeks," Daryl said. "We're goin' to be headin' out to Portland for a little while after that."
"But we're coming back," Jesus voiced. "I'm finding that I really enjoy King County. I'm trying to convince Daryl to settle down here, at least part time."
"I'm thinkin' on it," Daryl told Rick.
"Yes!" Carl said, bouncing a bit on his heels.
"Well good," Rick shoved his hands in his front pockets. "We can get together sometime this week, hang around, see if I can convince you to settle your ass down for a bit."
The two men shared a hug, prompting everyone else to commence their goodbyes. When he got to her, Daryl drew her into another embrace. "It was nice meetin' you, Rick's Michonne."
She chuckled. "You too, Daryl. You throw a great party."
He pulled away. "I hope he can get you to stick around so you can see how wild shit can really get around here."
Daryl and Jesus pulled off before them, riding into the night on Daryl's motorcycle. Carl fell asleep minutes after they pulled out of the parking lot. His light snores echoing through the quiet truck as Rick drove him home.
The father refused to wake him up as they pulled up outside of his ex-wife's home. Instead, he plucked Carl up out of his seat and carried him up the driveway. Michonne swallowed harshly at the visual. Rick was so gentle with Carl. providing firm guidance but never failing to show his love at every possible moment. As beautiful as it was, it was also heartbreaking at the same time. The relationship between a parent and a child was probably never something she'd have again. She turned up the radio, choosing an old R&B station and using the music to drown out her thoughts.
Rick came out before the first song ended, running down the driveway and hopping into the truck. "You ready?"
"Yeah," she said softly.
He waited until they were on the highway to speak again. "So, you had a good time tonight then?"
"Yeah, your friends are great. I can see that you really love each other."
Rick nodded. "We do. Even if I've been a shitty friend, everybody in that room has shown me support at one point or another."
"It's good that you have that. As much as we never want to admit it, recovery without someone, somewhere there to back you up is probably almost impossible."
"I don't ever want to face that shit," he replied.
Rick turned up the radio in excitement as an old Al Green song started playing on the radio. She smiled softly, as the man sung about Love & Happiness. Al's voice, Rick's strong, quiet presence, and the smoothness of the truck's tires on asphalt lulled her to sleep. More than an hour later, she was woken up by Rick's soft, warm hand touching her cheek, his thumb stroking along the space underneath her eye. "We're here, sweet thing. Let's get you up to bed."
Like every other time she'd been in a car with him, he came around and retrieved her from the passenger side. With an arm around her waist, Rick escorted her to her door. He stood quietly behind her as she pushed in her key to let herself in.
"Well," he started, running a tongue over his lips. "I'm glad you had fun, Michonne. Really. I just wanted to thank you for comin' with me tonight. I know you were a little iffy about it."
"I was serious when I told you I had a good time, Rick. It was one of the best nights I've had in a long time. So thank you for inviting me."
"I'd invite you to watch paint dry if I thought it'd make you smile, Michonne."
It was Michonne's turn to lick her lips. There he went again, making her swoon without even trying. Rick Grimes was arresting on every level. He was trouble of the best kind and Michonne wasn't sure how long she could continue holding him at arm's length. Were she being honest with herself, she wasn't even sure she wanted to anymore.
She reached down and picked up Rick's hand, glancing at the time on the watch he wore before letting the appendage drop back down to his side. "It's late, probably too late to make that long drive back to King County," She looked him from under her eyelashes. "Why don't you stay, just for the night. I'm too tired to ream into you tonight anyway, and I want you face to face when I do that." She wanted to blame the question on her being half sleep and in a delirium of happiness, but in the moment, she physically couldn't stop the words that flowed from her mouth.
Rick seemed unwilling to wait long enough for her to change her mind, letting out a simple "absolutely," before she led them both inside.
She completely bypassed the couch and the downstairs bathroom and led Rick upstairs and into her bedroom. She quietly instructed him to make himself comfortable while she got herself ready for bed. Michonne stalled for a bit, taking extra pains to remove her makeup and tie her night scarf on just right. Instead of her usual t-shirt and panties, she dressed in a pink silk pajama set with shorts and a long-sleeved button-down shirt. Nearly 30 minutes after she left him, she walked out of her en-suit.
Her heart jumped into her throat as she saw him sitting on her bed, his legs strewn out in front of him as he rested on top of the covers. Shoes off, button-up shirt laid across the chair next to the bed, he wore his jeans and a threadbare white t-shirt. The muscles in his strong arms flexed a bit as he crossed them over his broad chest. He was gorgeous, unbelievably so. He looked so relaxed and at ease in her bed that she couldn't even dwell on the fact that he was sitting in Mike's old spot.
Michonne was silent as she padded over to be near him. She raised her duvet, tucking herself in next to him. She spent a little time smoothing out the covers in her lap and trying to still her thumping heart. Then, slowly, she looked at Rick only to find him staring right back. His blue eyes were bright and alert but also a little hooded. She wondered briefly whether or not it was due to him being sleepy or him desiring her.
It was the latter she wanted. So badly, so desperately and fully that it caused her to reach out to him. Her fingers found his stubble and she closed her eyes. Soft and a little gritty she stroked it with her thumbs. Michonne acted on pure instinct, wanting Rick to be close, as close to her as she could manage in the moment.
She made the first move, brushing her lips against his ever so softly. Once, twice, three times she did it, feeling the soft wetness of his pink lips. Then, Rick was on her, his mouth capturing hers in a move that sent sparks up and down Michonne's spine. A tiny moan slipped between her lips and into his mouth as his tongue brushed against hers.
This kiss was different from the one they'd had weeks before after the baseball game. It was more than pure lust or curiosity. Michonne's hands left Rick's beard and wrapped around his neck, his moving to encircle her waist. The slide of their lips was just short of being frantic, full of passion and tenderness. She felt his thumbs make their way underneath her shirt and stroke against the dimples in her lower back, fingering the notches as if they'd been made for him. She bit him in retaliation, earning a deep grown from him as he sucked on her tongue.
Rick felt and tasted delicious and Michonne never wanted to separate herself from him. So she didn't. She languished in Rick Grimes and the sensations he aroused in her aching body. Completely losing herself in the feel of him, there was only one thing that entered her mind.
Finally. She thought. Finally.