Chapter Five

Michonne turned into the AGD parking lot and felt the mood in the car retract back into a sobering focus.

As they'd traveled mile after mile through the deserted countryside, she, Rick and Carl had stayed preoccupied with their individual thoughts. It hadn't been a pleasant road trip, per se, but it had been productive. The trunk and back seat were filled with information they could use to fight Woodbury, and getting out of town had freed something in both father and son. For Michonne, well, she'd tried being a team player for the sake of her future. She wanted to hope that her sincere efforts made an impact.

"Seems like we've been gone a week and not just a day," Rick said from beside her.

He turned in his seat, allowing her to take in his strained attempt at humor. At least his failed levity came off better than the constant edge he straddled since that first meeting with him.

Michonne parked the car and killed the engine. "It does. We've got a lot to show for it though. Maybe enough to quiet some of those ghosts following us, even for a little while." Her soft voice floated within the quiet car, sure and promising to her ears.

Rick met her gaze, and his eyes sharpened in understanding, the blue hue tired but clearer than she'd seen in a while. Determined. She offered a guarded smile in return. He nodded his slight acknowledgment and then unclipped his seatbelt. Carl watched their exchange closely without comment and followed his dad out of the car.

Her hope shifted again, expanded against the tight reign she tied around such emotions. The moment she and Rick shared back at his old company, King Consolidated, could mean everything for her future at AGD.

They'd all gone through something intense during the trip. Although she'd tried to play it strategic throughout the visit, she finally called him out on the weight he shouldered. Perhaps he was truly unaware how deeply he wore his guilt and powerlessness. She recognized the signs: the sleeplessness and irritability, the staring out into the distance as if seeking answers from some unknown and unseen confidante. Whispers of those long ago conversations with her ex clambered to the forefront of her consciousness before she could lock it back down.

She'd wondered if her concern would backfire, yet she took the chance to let him know that stress got the better of all of them sometimes, even her. It hadn't scared her to share that with him; she was already on thin ice at the company. But she wished there'd been someone to help her make sense of that darkness when she'd been at her lowest point, when she only had herself and her memories for comfort. It pained her to see such a familiar hurt in his eyes, and she couldn't turn her back on that. If he ended up rejecting her concerns, so be it.

He hadn't rejected her, though, and seemed surprisingly accepting of her simple words of validation. He had joked with her, even, and offered her the keys to the car with a comment about how she had better eyes for the road. He was liable to see things that weren't there, he'd quipped.

As soon as they walked into the building, Rick was immediately called into a meeting on some emergency which left Michonne and Carl to wander to their spaces on their own. Except Carl had offered to help her unpack the boxes of documents they'd collected and deliver them to their respective destinations: personnel files to Carol, sales receipts to Maggie, compliance records to Glenn and vendor contracts to Daryl. No one had been in their office so Michonne wondered if they were all in on the same emergency meeting that had pulled Rick in upon their arrival. Once everything had found its proper owner, she locked up the company car after taking out the last of their loot—a box of her own to look through. That is what Carl carried as he followed her to her office.

Carl put the box onto the extra chair in the corner, the only free space in the tiny closet of an office they'd given her. He lingered as she placed her own packages and briefcase on the desk. She booted up her computer, checked her phone for a blinking message light and then sat at the edge of the desk, looking at the extra work they'd brought back, all while Carl tracked her silently.

The meeting at Rick's old company, newly sold by AGD's parent group, had been a tense one. They'd thought going in that the place had been cleared out except for a skeleton staff and the materials earmarked for AGD that related to the former company's dealings with Woodbury. But when they showed up, they were met by Rick's former colleague, Morgan Jones, who hadn't been told of their arrival, nor was he exactly pleased to see them. At first, Michonne thought they would be forced to retreat and come back with the authority of a few more lawyers. It was Carl, surprisingly, that had softened Morgan up for them, and then Rick managed to talk him down long enough to get the information Morgan was willing to give up.

That's when things really got interesting.

Michonne had heeded Daryl's comments about the trip being a test. Carl hadn't been happy to have her on the road trip, probably pissed that she was invading on his father-son bonding time. When they'd stopped for gas, she'd overheard him complaining as Rick offered half-hearted excuses. She couldn't decide how much to care, although the acid to the young boy's words stung. The boss had asked her to do a job, so she'd do it, yet she didn't want to come between the two of them—and something was definitely brewing with the Grimeses. What, she couldn't really say.

The boy had insisted on wandering the practically abandoned King Consolidated building under some pretense, but the kid had been up to something, even if Rick remained too distracted to recognize it. She'd volunteered to keep an eye on him and left Rick to deal with Jones. There remained something about Carl that she couldn't shake, an impulse to protect him. So when he'd given her the slip to try and hack into the computer system and get the files they needed, she gave him the space to do what he needed to do and then shut him down once he got in over his head. The boy was smart and felt a need to prove something to his dad it seemed. But he was still just a kid who desperately wanted someone in his corner after all the sadness and stress he'd endured lately. They'd felt that kinship when they'd worked together to accomplish this extra task on their own, one that Rick would come to appreciate down the line.

With the satisfaction of their team effort dulling around the edges as time passed, Carl now stood at her office doorway looking a bit lost.

Michonne smiled. "What's up, Carl?"

He shifted his gaze to and away from her, quickly and shyly. "Nothing," he muttered. "Just wanted to say thanks for saving my butt back there. Sorry I was being such a jerk before."

Shrugging, Michonne set her cell phone on the desk and turned back to him. "Well, you don't know me that well, so it's understandable. I'm not that bad though." She tried meeting his eyes, and finally he steadied his attention on her and smirked a little.

"That was pretty cool how we got past all those firewalls."

She laughed. "It was. Next time, maybe you won't be so eager. But you'll get there pretty soon, as much as your dad will hate that." They both grinned. "Not that there'll be a next time." She winked and he pulled the flash drive from his pocket and turned it over in his hands. "I know we have hard copies of all that stuff, but I'm sure your dad wouldn't mind seeing what you were up to back there." Rounding to her desk chair, she watched as Carl nodded absently and backed out of the office towards his dad's.

Michonne smiled more broadly. The kid would be okay.

At Carl's departure, Michonne decided to take care of only a few more things before leaving for the day. She was tired, having been up before the sun so they could make good time on the road. Maybe she'd take a bath tonight, she thought, and started musing about how she could relax once she finally left the office.

A knock at her doorframe caused her to raise her head with a scowl at the interruption. Anyone's presence this late in the day usually meant she wasn't getting home anytime soon.

Daryl stood in the doorway, shoulders squared against her displeasure but not backing off. "What's crawled up your ass?" He walked in and moved the box from her chair before turning it around to straddle it in his usual, off-the-cuff fashion.

She relaxed, but only a bit. She and Daryl had reached a mutual understanding and distanced respect for each other, but that didn't mean she fully trusted him. Still, his prep materials and their pre-travel meeting had been useful—she might not have been able to help Carl hack into those databases without the information Daryl had provided her. The man seemed to want to give her a fair shake.

And his appearance right now rather amused her since he was sporting dress pants and a tucked in, button-down shirt. At the late hour, the sleeves were rolled up and it partially hung out on the side; the tie he'd probably sported was long since removed. But even without the crispness of a suit, she had to admit that the man cleaned up nicely. She wondered what item on his agenda today warranted the rare appearance as a civilized professional in Rick's absence.

He caught her taking in his attire and his expression dared her to tease him about it. She put her hands up defensively, letting him know she wouldn't start anything if he didn't.

"Nothing's crawling up anywhere. Just not looking forward to dealing with whatever nonsense you're coming at me with at 4:00 in the afternoon." She cocked her head to the side, challenging him to surprise her.

Daryl leaned against the chair back. "Fair enough. Just got out of a meeting with Rick and Hershel. Blake wants a meet-up. Mediation or some crap."

"And you're actually going to go?" Daryl seemed to agree with her incredulous tone. It seemed he'd stopped by to commiserate as much as to fill her in on the latest developments.

"Aint got no choice. It's Rick's call, and he and Hershel think it's worth a shot." Michonne scoffed, and Daryl pressed his lips together as if staving off further angry comment on the matter. "Rick wants me and Hershel there. Governor's bringin' two 'a his people too." He paused and looked away. "Andrea's the one to set it up so I guess she's taggin' along."

Michonne grew even more alert at that last part. "Then I'm coming too. There's no telling what you're walking into."

He was shaking his head before she could even finish her statement, as if having anticipated her demand. "No can do. If it were up to me, I'd let you have right at him. But Rick and Hershel think they gotta take the chance that this'll turn into somethin' that aint a complete con. They were talkin' negotiation terms and everything."

"It is though. A complete con."

Daryl agreed. "It's decided. Can't do nothin' but be ready."

"There's no way to be ready for a man like that. He'll betray you, and then we'll all pay the price. Some of us more than others," she added, frowning.

"Hey, it aint all gone completely to shit yet. Don't write Rick off. I know he's been stressed, but he's a good guy. And whatever happened on the road with y'all must've done some good as far as I can tell. I didn't get the whole story but he seemed cool about how it all went down.

She wasn't reassured. This whole mediation thing was a ruse. It was obvious—Michonne had seen it so many times before. But Daryl was right. It wasn't either of their calls. And at least he'd be there to provide some skepticism and maybe spark a bit of fear into those assholes at Woodbury. Blake's right hand man, Milton, wouldn't be difficult, but Martinez might be a match for Daryl.

"Is Merle cooperating by giving you guys some intel? If not, at least let me brief you before you go."

Daryl tensed. "Yeah, we gon' meet with him in a bit and see what's what. If we need more, we'll holler at you in the mornin'." She nodded, glad that at least she wouldn't be expected to stay for tonight, although if they needed to have stuff ready, she would do whatever it took to lawyer them up.

"Hey, don't you and Merle kill each other while we're gone. I'll kick both your asses when I come back if there's a bloodbath." His face softened into the faintest hint of a grin. "Wouldn't mind bein' a fly on the wall to watch Glenn tryin' to keep you two in line."

Although she thought about being mad at his dig, she grinned at his joking instead. "Glenn'll surprise you. He's got some fire in him. And I like him so I won't start anything with Merle … unless he starts something first." Daryl narrowed his eyes at her. She broke into a full-blown smile at that which made him frown. "Oh, don't worry, I'll be on my best behavior."

"It aint that," quick to clarify. "It's … never mind." Michonne furrowed her brow, questioning. "He apologize to you?"

Michonne rolled her eyes. "Is that what he was trying to do?" They smirked at each other. "He offered what he thought was an apology which is about the best I can expect from him. And I didn't kill him so there's that."

Smirking, Daryl accepted her conclusion with a shrug. "I'll take what I can get on it." He stood up and turned her chair back around the right way. "Anyway, just fillin' you in and makin' sure the trip today was alright, you being my responsibility."

With all the daily activity, it was easy for her to forget that Daryl was technically her supervisor at this point. She found the idea oddly amusing. "It went fine." Her expression softened along with her voice, which Daryl certainly noted but didn't call attention to it. "Did you get your paperwork?"

He nodded. "Yeah, I got it. Nice work. Maybe we got us a run 'a good luck." Daryl didn't strike her as the kind of guy to dole out praise so she appreciated the acknowledgment.

"Maybe," Michonne said. Her tone was neutral since she truly didn't know what to make of that kind of prediction. She hoped he was right though.

TBC …