A/N: Thank you so much for all the reviews, follows and favorites. I'm so incredibly appreciative. Please enjoy...

Chapter 3 - Hindsight

It was an early morning sauna delight for those who ventured outside. Atlanta, Georgia was unrelenting when it came to humidity in the late days of spring and early days of summer. After six years of filming in a moisture filled atmosphere the crew was accustomed to the delicate balance between comfortable and uncomfortable conditions. Most of the crew was from the American south, so days like these were a mere walk in the park. Cast members, however, were from all around the country and world. They adjusted accordingly out of work necessity. Rick was from a small town in Georgia so he was one who simply took it in stride.

The upcoming season of the show would bring many changes. Its popularity led to a bigger everything; sets, crew and cast members. His extended television family was joining forces other group; no longer just him and a small supporting cast. New locations had been added, and along with it, many new faces.

He spent the morning trying not to think about the session; he'd already spent a sleepless night with the same intention. 'A cigarette would be great right now' was his prevailing thought all morning. It took all the willpower he could muster not to give into his ready and available addiction. Tom Petty blasting through the speakers was what he used to drown out thoughts as he drove - thoughts that wouldn't let him be.

The showrunner for the series approached him as soon as he parked his car. It felt like a well-planned ambush.

"Hey, Rick. Do you have a minute?" The averaged sized man with short brown hair asked.

Rick had done his best to avoid all the powers that be from the network for the past week. He'd essentially been told that keeping his job was contingent on going to therapy. The network ordered counseling seriously ruffled his feathers and he wasn't sure that his acting abilities were good enough to mask his contemptuous feelings.

"Alright," he responded keeping his eyes focused on the extras as they practiced their zombie shambles. He put his hands on his hips and slowly turned his head to look into the eyes of his boss.

"Look, I know you're not too thrilled with any of us right now…" Rick kept his expression blank and politely nodded to indicate that he was listening, "I get it. But you need to look at this from our perspective. You and Michonne are our leads. People on set look up to you both, and the public adore you." He chuckled to loosen both his nervousness and the sour disposition of the man in front of him. Rick's expression did not change.

As much as the producers had used bloggers to increase awareness and fervor for the show, they did the same to detract from any brewing negativity in relation to the show. Employing a wag-the-dog tactic was paramount to keeping the episode 6x10 debacle a secret. The network announced a spin off show the day after the filming of the couch scene. Redirect…Deflect…and then Redirect some more.

"Not only are we looking to increase our fan base, but we also have a whole new set of actors joining the show. And, well, we can't have the two of you…uh…well, we can't have you fighting. There's too much at stake," his smile not faltering as he gave Rick's terse facial expression and rigid body language the once over.

Rick looked him in the eyes, ran his hand over his stubbly face and said, "Got it." He then began the trek to his trailer.

As perturbed as he was with the higher ups, he knew without a doubt that the counseling was a good idea. 'She finally opened up.' He learned something that had dogged him for two years. The question of why he'd lost a friendship that mattered more to him than he would ever admit had been answered.

Working on a show where most of the labor was as far from glamourous as you can get was not easy for non-southerners. Though everyone was always generous and accepting of the 'newbies,' Rick was head of the unofficial welcome wagon. He took it upon himself to greet everyone who joined the show; both in front of and behind the camera. It was a part of his position as the lead character that he enjoyed. Today, however, was different.

Today's pleasantries were more of a job than a joy. The jovial welcome that he extended to the cast and crew before taking temporary residence and solace in his trailer was some of his best acting. By the time he closed his door and sat on his extremely worn couch, the feeling of having already acted for the day was all consuming. He laughed 'best foot forward and all that. I should win a Screen Actors Guild Award for that alone.' He laid his head back and closed his eyes with the intent of taking a quick breather. Much needed sleep absorbed him for the next hour.

There was a light tap on his door, "Rick, they need you on set," the young assistant called from outside. He opened his eyes. The words that usually excited him and got him moving quickly sent a cold chill down his spine. He hadn't seen her since her revelation in the very private counseling session the day before. He wasn't ready to see her.

"Comin'," he lazily shouted to the closed door while pushing himself off the couch.

The door flung open, "C'mon Rick, you've been holed up in your trailer all morning," Maggie said as she entered his medium sized one room home away from home without knocking. Their time working together had called for an end to old school formalities – like knocking. Rick stood and beheld the young woman who was more of a sister than a friend.

"I was on my way," he said without looking in her direction.

"What's going on with you? I haven't seen you this distracted since…" she didn't finish voicing her observation which involved his divorce. They were good friends, but even good friendships had boundaries.

"…Well, it's just been a while since you've been so…I don't know…aloof I guess," she softened her tone and watched him put his script on the end table.

"Just tired," he said before turning to face her, "didn't get much sleep," which was true, though he had no intentions of telling her the reason why.

"Okay," she stepped away from the door entry and closer to him, "I know it's been a rough few months with RJ in California, so if you just wanna talk or vent, I'm here," she smiled. He reached out and squeezed her arm.

"I appreciate that Maggie," he forced a smile. It was difficult to get out of his head, but he was a professional and he had a job to do.

"What are friends for?" she laid her hand on top of his, "Plus, you're the big brother that my mama and daddy didn't give me," she laughed.

"Yeah," he joined in her laughter. She was the little sister that his mom and dad didn't give him either.

"You know," she said as they began to exit the portable room, "I've never understood the distance between you and Michonne. But I know that when two good people are involved in a disagreement, stubbornness is usually the only thing standing in the way of a solution," she smiled softly.

Maggie, along with the other members of the show, never directly addressed the noticeably tense working relationship between him and Michonne. The tenseness spilled over into their personal interactions as well; which she also never mentioned.

Their seeming contempt for each other was one of the worst kept secrets on set. The situation was whispered amongst some, though never openly discussed; an open secret that never made it to the press or anyone's social media page. Their troubled relationship was well-guarded from public scrutiny because they were held in high esteem by their small screen community of friends.

"I just wish you guys would sit down and hash it out," she felt compelled to make the suggestion. Both Rick and Michonne were people she cared about. The past two years had been somewhat uncomfortable for those who liked and cared for them both. Choosing not to take sides was easy since no one knew what had caused the break in what was once such a harmonious friendship.

Rick looked into the soft green eyes of his friend and nodded. He chose not to respond because there was really nothing he could say. The knowledge of counseling sessions was on a very need to know basis. Even if he wanted to tell her about the counseling, he would never give anyone information about Michonne without her permission. She may not think that I'm her friend…but I am.

As the series' protagonist and leader of the main group of survivors, he needed to portray a positive and upbeat demeanor in the beginning. Over the past few years the writers gradually changed his character into a more cold and calculating survivor. That sorrowful disposition he was required to have for today's shoot would be beneficial. He was in no mood to be upbeat.

x-x-x

"Michonne, that was good," the director smiled and waved his hand to a few of the extras standing near. It was early but she was already sticky from the generosity of Georgia's climate. She perused the area while her fellow co-workers busied themselves preparing to film the scene. The newly constructed sound stages for interior shots were in the distance.

The night had not been a peaceful one. Letting her guard down in front of Rick and Denise had been challenging. She spent most of the evening trying to figure out exactly why she did let her guard down. But at the end of the day, and in her case at the end of the night, it had been liberating. There was something keeping her from moving forward completely. Everything was great. So why am I in a holding pattern?

Her career was heading to a place where she never could've envisioned just one year earlier. The television show was so highly rated that the fandom for everyone on the show was off the charts. Offers had come in - in droves. Turning down offers had become par for the course. There just wasn't enough time in the day to do everything. She and her agent were very selective.

This was the time to be selective with not just television offers, but with movie offers, panel discussions, philanthropy choices, and so on. Choosing to do the Marvel movie, however, was a no-brainer. The role had catapulted an already star bound career. Everyone looked at her and saw a woman that had it all. 'What is my problem'?

She knew that Mike wasn't wholly to blame for the stall in their relationship. They had petered along because she kept him at a distance. It was easy to convince herself and her sister whom she spoke honestly with, that the fault was all Mike's. He could not accept her success and her burgeoning career. It was the truth, but not the complete truth. She did not put the care and time into the relationship which she should have. Never gave him the openness that he desired. He drifted away from her while she watched and never tried to pull him back.

The only true passionate emotion that she'd had for the last two years was her contempt for Rick. It was a strong emotion. Years ago her mom told her, "Never hate anyone because hate is stronger than love, and you should never give that emotion to someone that's not worthy." She decided that she didn't hate Rick, she just despised him. Yes, she was splitting hairs, it was an equally strong emotion - one that she knew he didn't deserve - but she could never shake it. A smile crept onto her face, 'If I had put that same kind of passion into my relationship with Mike it wouldn't be ending. I need to return his text. We definitely need to talk. Breaking up through text would be easier though. Cowardly Michonne, you can't do that.

She was so deep in her thoughts that she didn't see or hear them approach.

"Good morning, Michonne," his drawl instantly brought her out of her musings. She felt an instant chill and quickly tensed up as she turned to face the newcomers.

"Good morning, Rick," she said flatly before turning towards the woman standing next to him.

"Hey, Michonne."

"Hey, Maggie," they said simultaneously while stepping closer for a friendly embrace. After a moment they both stepped back.

"So how's it going so far?" Maggie inquired while glancing around at the many new faces. The trio was standing on a slightly inclined dirt path leading to a new fixture for the show; a large faux house which looked like a cross between a small museum and a mansion belonging on a plantation.

"It's going good," Michonne responded while surveying the goings on around them.

"Lots of new folks. They seem nice," Maggie observed.

It was getting hard to remember all the people that had come and gone since the shows inception. Maggie had learned how to be friendly, welcoming and kind without getting too close. The lesson was learned through time and tears.

"I've met some of them. Good people I think…" Michonne agreed.

"Hey…" they all turned towards the voice.

"Hey Paul," Maggie greeted. Paul was one of the new cast members. They would be filming their first scene together in a few hours.

"Or should we call you Jesus," Michonne chided the young man with long dark blonde hair. He'd told them a few days earlier that his friends call him Jesus.

They all casually laughed.

"Either one is fine with me," he responded after the laughter died down, "I'm just really excited to be working with you all. The table read was one thing, but this is the real deal."

"We're looking forward to it," Rick added.

They talked a little longer about the upcoming shoot.

"Maggie, I was hoping I could run this scene with you while the others prepare for the road trip shots," He had a script in his hand.

"Sure, Paul," she smiled and looked at her other companions, "I'll see y'all later."

It was a moment that Rick was not going to let get by him. He quickly walked over to Michonne, knowing that she would bolt the moment the others were gone. He noted their surroundings and lack of privacy, "Michonne…could I treat you to a cup of coffee so we can talk?" He asked quietly.

The cheerfulness that exuded from her face just seconds earlier while Paul and Maggie stood next to them was gone, "I don't think so. There's not anything that I have to say to you." If they were going to have a conversation, which she wasn't sure she completely wanted, they surely would not be having it now.

He cocked his head to the side and looked her in the face.

"Rick…" the director called to him from a large grassy area about sixty feet from where he was standing.

"Sounds like you're needed," she said and then walked away.

x-x-x

It was two o'clock in the morning. He stood in front of the refrigerator – his hand on the opened door as he stared at the contents which hadn't changed since he stood in the exact same spot two hours earlier. Another sleepless night. Why didn't she ever tell me? It was the same question that had haunted him for the past day and a half. Why?

"I should've pressed harder; insisted that she tell me why she stopped talking to me." He told his empty kitchen as he closed the door to the icebox.

He walked out of the kitchen and stopped in his dark and barely lived in living room. 'She made it clear that she wants nothing to do with me.' His eyes were on the pictures of him and RJ which were sprawled across the wall, but his mind was on her. 'I have to, but how can I? Telling her some of it would mean that I'd have to tell her all of it.' He slowly strolled back to his room, rubbing his face and running his hands through his hair.

He looked at the crumpled blanket on his bed upon entering the bedroom; the evidence of his sleeplessness apparent, 'she's so damn stubborn I may have to handcuff her to a chair to get her to listen to me,' he smiled and dropped back into the cold sheets. 'Handcuffs it is then,' he laughed and kneaded his pillow before attempting to give himself over to the dream fairy once again.

x-x-x

Michonne smiled at the face illuminating her phone's screen. Once he stopped looking at her like she was from another planet, and she stopped seeing him as just some kid, they became friends. They moved from being strangers forced to work together to forming a special bond. He was her heart.

"Hello…"

"Hey, Michonne. What's up? What are you doing? Are you coming over tonight? It's dad's birthday party, remember?" He excitedly rambled.

"Woah. Hold on. Did you use your mom's cappuccino machine again? And what are you doing up so early?" She was only a few minutes away from the parking lot. The morning drive had been uneventful.

"Whatever. Are you coming over tonight? And…look, I wanna make sure you set some tickets aside for me..." just like any bright and talented teenager, all his thoughts were converging at once.

"Carl, you do realize the movie hasn't even wrapped yet? It'll be at least a year and a half..."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, I know," he interrupted, "I'm just putting my request in early," he laughed, not letting her off the hook.

"Okay young man. I'll definitely put some tickets aside for you," she told him; smiling at how special he was.

"I knew you would," his cocky tone jumping through the phone. He was her consummate cheerleader.

They both laughed.

"What's going on with Rick?" He asked before the laughter died down. The combination of his youth and DNA had not afforded him the ease of double-speak. Carl was a straight shooter. He was probably the most direct person she'd ever known - child or adult.

"Carl..."

"I know about what happened when you guys filmed the couch scene. Everybody was talking about it on set the other day. Did you guys have a fight like people were saying?" Carl had appointed himself the living and breathing buffer between Rick and Michonne. As young as he was, he seemed to realize that it was important to keep their dislike for one another private. The interactions were usually strategically placed. He often went out of his way to have conversations that he could easily include them both. From the outside they seemed to be good friends – much like the friends and family that they portrayed onscreen.

"We didn't have a fight. We had words. Granted, they weren't exactly nice words..." the young man was incapable of bullshit and she knew her words would not go unchallenged.

"I know we've talked about it before, but I still don't get it. Ricks a cool guy. And you're super cool. Why don't you like him?" She was struck by his question. There was a longing in his mini interrogation that was new. The young actor had no hidden agendas. He just simply wanted his two friends to get along.

Over the past couple of years she had taken comfort in the wall guarding her heart. She leaned on the wall for support when it seemed that emotion might seep through. Her relationship with her cast mates was purely surface; "The only people who can hurt you are the ones that you care about. I'll never allow myself to get hurt again," it was her mantra. She kept them at arm's length. The exception was Carl. He wouldn't allow distance. He broke through every barrier and landed directly in her heart. The breach had allowed others like Maggie, Morgan, and Carol to slip in.

"Honestly Carl, I don't feel like having this conversation right now," even as she said the words she knew he wasn't going to let her off the hook that easily.

"Michonne…" it came out as a whine.

"I'll be at your house tonight," she confirmed before he could voice his continuing confusion over the unspoken feud between two people he cared so deeply for. She was sure that Carl had extended the dinner invitation to Rick as well. She sighed, shaking off the annoying thought.

"I hope your mom makes her famous chocolate cake…"

"She already made it," he happily disclosed before launching into his regular Marvel Universe versus DC Comics rant.

x-x-x

Denise Cloyd observed the man and woman sitting on opposite sides of her office couch. Michonne had her arms folded and stared at something on the opposite wall. Rick was slightly hunched forward with his hands on his legs staring at something on or near the bookshelf. This was their last session. She had this one final shot to completely clear the air between these two. Michonne's openness the day before was an eye opener. It was only half of the story; an important half, but half none the less.

"I'd like to start this session by expressing my gratitude to the both of you," Denise began, "It's not easy to let go of secrets that you've had for a long time. Michonne…" she looked directly at the dark beauty, "thank you for being so open." Michonne nodded.

"So…this is our final session. We made lots of progress, but I think it's important that we discuss what you revealed in our previous session," she smiled and hesitated giving her reluctant participant an opportunity to look in her eyes.

"I'm curious about why you never confronted Rick about what you overheard. Sounds like you two were friends…"

"I already answered that," Michonne snapped.

"No. Not really," Denise remained calm and never dropped her smile, "you said you walked away and never spoke with him or trusted him again. That's actually the exact opposite of confronting him," she adjusted her glasses and her smile became less pronounced.

Michonne released a long sigh and dropped her hands to her side. She did not respond.

"I think that Rick wanted to address what you said, maybe…"

"It doesn't matter now. And I'm not interested in what he has to say." She spat before Denise could elaborate. She was ready for this to be over. Recounting everything brought back memories, thoughts and feeling that had long ago been pushed down. She wasn't ready to deal with their reemergence.

Rick turned to face his ex-friend and co-star, "I realize that you're not interested in what I have to say. I completely understand. But you're gonna listen." He cocked his head to the side and returned her glare; leaning his body forward, "Maybe you'll always hate me…but you're gonna give me the courtesy of hearing me out," he had resolved that this was the time to tell the whole story; not hold back any part of the truth. Her cold demeanor would not deter him.

She folded her arms and turned her head towards the door, 'I could care less what you have to say.'

Rick sat back and faced Denise. He ran his hands over his face. The thoughts had turned over and over in his head. Two sleepless nights and the only thing that he knew for sure was that he had to tell it – All of it.

"It was not an easy time on the set…" Michonne sighed loudly when he began. He paused, glanced at her with narrowed eyes, and decided to ignore the overly dramatic actress, "None of the actors were happy about the decision to kill off Andrea's character. I considered Andrea a friend. When you're friends with a cast member and the person leaves the show you're on, or the film you're working on wraps, it's…unsettling. Much like graduating from high school or college, you say you'll keep in touch, but life always gets in the way. Get together's become few and far between – as do phone calls. Eventually the person who you once considered a friend just becomes someone that you use to know. So, the day was gonna be difficult. It would be the beginning of an end. It wasn't just her…it was all the friends that I no longer saw. You see them at some conventions, but that's it." He stopped for a moment and reached for his water bottle; never looking at Michonne. He took three huge gulps before continuing.

"I got to the set early. It was a hard time for me. My wife and I were having problems…well; we were having more problems than we usually did. Honestly, it had gotten worse over the past year. It's…uh…it's not something that I talked about with anyone," he ran his hands over his face again.

"Rick," Denise saw his consternation, "You don't have to share anything that's uncomfortable. But I do appreciate you sharing this with us." She looked at Michonne whose back was turned away from both she and her co-star.

"Thank you Denise. This is something that I want to say…to tell," he drank more of his water before continuing…

"It's not that I was embarrassed about my marriage…or rather the downfall of my marriage. I just didn't figure anyone was really interested. We all have things in our lives that we deal with. I wasn't gonna burden my friends with my failings," he looked over Denise's shoulder towards the window…

"Anyway, I knew that day would be tough. When I got to my trailer I started looking over the script again. It was really just something to do, because I'd already memorized it. After a while, I started going through my phone, checking text messages and emails. My wife had, again, accepted an invitation in both our names without checking with me first. It was one of our biggest issues. This particular invite was for her cousins 'travel the world' party." He stopped and laughed sarcastically; an inside joke that the other two people in the room were not yet privy to.

"Her cousin and I had never gotten along, and now I was expected to fly to California to celebrate her decision to travel around the world for six months. So…yeah, I was pretty annoyed. Lori was on the west coast but I didn't care. I decided to call her," he lamented the memory…

"When she answered, for a moment, I thought that maybe we could have a civil conversation. But…probably rightly so, she was annoyed that I'd called her so early. I informed her that I wasn't flying to California for the party. At first she didn't say anything. I expected her to hang up since she wasn't arguing with me. And then…" he looked away from the window and smiled at Denise. He inhaled, holding in the air that would allow him to reconsider what he was prepared to say. The air was slowly released…

"She lit into me…didn't hold back on her words, "you jump whenever your little girlfriend has an event, but you can't come to a party to celebrate something that my favorite cousin is excited about? How do you think that makes me feel?'" He relayed his ex-wife's words with the air of contempt that she'd expressed during their ill-fated conversation two years earlier.

Rick was aware that his words, especially the word girlfriend, left a lingering question in the air - one that he would not yet answer. He glanced around the room, resting his eyes again on the small bookshelf, and continued his tale…

"In hindsight…they say it's twenty-twenty, right?" He chuckled, "I should've just ignored the email. I shouldn't've called her…and I probably should've just gone to the damn party…hindsight right?" he paused for a moment…

"We continued arguing until Daryl showed up at my door. I wasn't sure how much he'd overheard. The look on his face told me that he'd probably heard a lot. Once I hung up the phone, he asked me straight out about the girlfriend he heard Lori shout…" he looked away from the book titled Understanding the Human Psyche that he'd zeroed in on, and faced the kindly therapist…

"I didn't have a girlfriend," he looked at Michonne's back. She had shifted, but kept her eyes on the opposite wall, "I never cheated on my wife. Ever…but…I had a friend that meant a lot to me. When she invited me to the openings of her plays, to hang out at a movie, to local galleries, to anything, I'd go. Most of the time it wasn't just me that she'd invite, but I always felt like…like…it was nice; Lori started calling her my girlfriend because…" he kept his eyes on her – the back of her. She shifted again; clearly growing uncomfortable. Her arm moved up to her chest. He knew she was moving the pendant on her necklace side to side.

"…Guess I don't really know why…but it was a point of contention," he turned to face Denise.

"I told Daryl that Lori was jealous of Michonne. He asked me if I had a…um…if I had a thing for Michonne," he glanced in her direction; the subtle movements of her body a telling sign of her unease.

"I told him that I didn't. We were friends and nothing more. He said 'that's what it sounds like' to him. He asked me why I didn't wanna fly to California; figuring there was some kind of link between me not wanting to go to the west coast, and Michonne. I told him that Lori's cousin is 'pretentious…kinda like she's better than the rest of us because she speaks French.' I had already told Lori that right now was a stressful time..." he rested his hand on his forehead…

"It wasn't just her cousin though. There was a part of me that wanted her to come back to Georgia and maybe…I don't know…maybe try to understand that it wasn't just about Andrea. I was spiraling. Just once I wanted her to catch me…just to understand what it all meant to me…" he stood and walked to the window that he'd previously been transfixed by. Pedestrians were going about their regular day on the street below.

"…Maybe just this one time she could put something that mattered to me ahead of herself. That's why I refused to go to California. But, I won't put it all on her. There were things that mattered to her that I never showed any interest in. I probably should've. Hindsight…" he paused before turning to look at the women and smiled, "I showed Daryl the 'travel the world' invitation on my phone with Lori's cousin holding her passport with a caption reading, Bonjour Mon Ami'. We laughed. As ridiculous as the whole thing was…it was good finally talking about everything with Daryl."

The noises beyond the small office were indiscernible. Michonne coughed lightly as she turned to face their young moderator. Silence befell the room as Rick took his seat. The awkwardness that now took a passing residence in the room was even more uncomfortable than the contentious one that generally hung in the stratosphere between them.

"Rick," Denise spoke into the thick uneasy permeating the room, "Thank you. Thank you for your honesty. I know that it probably wasn't easy to open up the way you did." She smiled at the anxious man in front of her. He returned the smile with a nod of the head.

She looked at the equally angsty actress who had remained completely silent during Ricks admission. Her eyes dropped down to the notes. How do I want to address this?

"Michonne—"

"Hold on a minute Denise," Rick interrupted, "I just need to say this…"

He glanced at Michonne for a moment with the hopes that she would look at him. She kept her eyes glued to the therapist.

"I always figured that you somehow realized that I liked you as more than a friend. I've never been in a situation like that before. It was inappropriate," he confessed, "I know the kind of woman you are and I was embarrassed for the way I felt. When you abruptly ended our friendship without telling me why…I knew I deserved it. I couldn't admit to Daryl or even myself that my interest in you was…beyond friendship. I was attracted to you and…I'm sorry for…for everything," He exhaled. There it was. Finally. The burden that had weighed him down for so long was released.

"I just needed to say that."

Denise smiled at Rick, wordless, letting him know that she appreciated his honesty.

"Again…um…thank you for being so forthright," she smiled and then looked back at Michonne.

"Is there anything that you'd like to say?" She asked with both professional and not-so-professional hopefulness.

"I'm not sure what to say," it was a truthful statement. Her mind went in every direction.

At the same time she had what she called a crush on him, he was feeling the same way. His words rang true for her; it was inappropriate. But she couldn't deny how much she enjoyed his company. She'd never felt like that with anyone else - a truth that she could never admit out loud.

There was that narrative written by everyone who was not her; Michonne is smart, and wise, and talented, and funny, and a whole a lot of positive adjectives...but Michonne does not look at a married man. Michonne does not think romantically about married men. Michonne does not become attracted to her married friend.

"Michonne..." Denise could see the rabbit hole that the woman before her was tunneling through and decided to end the journey, "What are you thinking about? I know you spent a lot of time being angry. A lot of time shutting yourself off from not just Rick, but others that could hurt you. You've held onto that pain for a long time. You probably found a certain solace in it. And now it's something you can...release." Her eyes bore into the soft brown eyes staring at her, "share with us what you're thinking."

"I'm not really sure what I'm thinking right now," It was only part of the truth. Her mind had gone in so many different directions that there was no one thought that held court. The only single thought that rose above all the others was, 'I can't look at him…not right now. I need to get out of here'.

"I'm certain that there are lots of thoughts going through your mind right now...why don't you share one of them," she gently prodded. Having watched the staunchly bullheaded twosome for the past few visits there were some things that she'd gleaned. First and foremost she was dealing with people who had an attraction to one another. The attraction scared them both so much that they turned it into acrimony so they wouldn't have to deal with it.

"I…" she ran her hands over her legs which were covered with her favorite black jeans, "Um…I feel stupid." She stopped.

"There's no judgement here Michonne. You shouldn't feel stupid," the counselor quickly informed her.

"You can—"

"I liked him too," she hurriedly admitted before Denise could continue. The feeling of being back middle school washed over her. The nervousness around a boy you like. The butterflies wreaking havoc on your stomach when said person in the vicinity. I walked in here a woman, and now I'm a pimply faced adolescent all over again. She almost laughed at the absurdity. She stared down at her hands which were not nearly that interesting but allowed her to divert her eyes from the therapist and the actor.

Say what you need to say Michonne. This is the time to just say it.

"I knew it was wrong… I didn't plan it and I would never have done anything…" her short-lived adolescence taking backseat to her truth, "I enjoyed being with him…I guess as much as he enjoyed being with me. And I felt bad. But I also felt good. I looked forward to going to work. Our interactions meant a lot to me. And when I overheard that conversation…" she peered at her wringing hands for an instant, "I wasn't just hurt. I was broken hearted." She stopped. It had all tumbled out; the things that she wanted to say and things that she wanted to keep private.

She was now emboldened. This would be her narrative. She knew that she, and not anyone else, would write her story.

She turned to face Rick. He was staring at her. This was the first time that she'd allowed herself to really look at him. Once her feelings towards him grew beyond platonic, guilt didn't allow her to look at him too closely, or for too long. And then, the overheard conversation occurred. But now…

She began to stir in her seat. Have your eyes always been like that? She instantly wanted to look away from the most beautiful eyes she'd ever seen. She reached for her water – not looking away from him. She unscrewed the top and quickly quenched her dry throat.

"I should've told you what I heard; confronted you. I—"

"No. I wanted to press harder. Convince you to talk to me. I just…I felt like a cheater. I wasn't sure what I wanted, but I knew it wasn't right." He stopped. The sincerity in his eyes, on his face, was undeniable. She looked away from his eyes which seemed to bore into her soul and landed her gaze on Denise's shoes.

The silence which lasted no more than thirty seconds felt like an eternity. Denise cleared her throat and thanked both of her current charges for being so open and honest. 'I'll let you two discover what's been evident to me since I met you. Oh what fun you'll have.' She gave herself an internal Hi-five.

For the remainder of the session she gave them each tips on addressing stressful situations in productive ways. Dealing with Conflict in a Healthy Way was the pamphlet that she handed them both. They smiled and nodded.

"Well, it was really a pleasure meeting you both. Please don't be a stranger. I'd love it if either of you would drop by one day…let me know how you're doing. I'm a fan of the show, so of course I'll be watching you," she laughed. They hugged her in turn before she retreated to her office.

Rick opened the outer office door - Michonne walked through. Their stride towards the elevator was slow and quiet. Rick pushed the button.

"I wonder if we're going to get rain. As humid as it's been I figure rain should be on the way," she quietly guesstimated.

"Yeah," he agreed while glancing down at the pamphlet in his hand.

The ding and illuminated number above the elevator alerted them of its arrival.

They stepped into the very small box. The tension that had existed between them for just over two years had morphed into something else. There was awkwardness. A magnetic pull. Neither knew how to address it. They rode the elevator in silence.

She couldn't look at him, 'I should say something. What? He smells so good. How can this be happening? Damn. Has he always smelled this good?' her eyes stayed on the two white panel that met in the middle while her hand rested lightly on her necklace.

He kept his eyes on the pamphlet as he turned through the six pages continually, 'I can't believe she felt that way about me. Maybe she still does. She has a boyfriend. Or I know she did. How do I ask? What if she doesn't feel that way anymore?' He shifted his stance.

The only sound heard on the bottom floor of the building was the clanking of Rick's boots as they strode towards the exit. He stepped in front of her and opened the door to the street. He looked back at her. She was staring at him but had stopped walking. He let the door go and stepped back into the building.

"Rick…" she started but wasn't sure exactly what to say, so she paused. Her heart was beating so fast that she was sure he could see it through her shirt.

"Thank you for being so honest. I appreciate it," she told him.

He walked up to her. She had the most beautiful eyes. He always noticed but never allowed himself to focus on them too long. The black jeans that she wore caressed every curve of her body in the most sensual way. She wore a black and yellow T-shirt that modestly showed off both her flat stomach and her voluptuous breasts. His eyes stopped on her lips. The red lipstick that adorned them was nearly gone but the natural red of her lips were just as appealing. He was close enough to smell perfume which reminded him of a day at the beach.

"I should thank you," his tone was quiet, his inflexion gentle, "You're the one that had the guts to finally say something…admit the hurt that you've had all this time. I'll never be able to apologize enough for what you thought I said about you," he reached out and touched her hand. She looked down at their hands and intertwined hers with his. She looked back into the eyes that for only the second time since she'd known him she allowed herself to really see. He was a beautiful man.

"Guess we're both pretty cool," She laughed, "I'm borrowing Carl's favorite word." They both began laughing; slowly releasing the others hand upon exiting the building. Rick walked with her to the parking lot and over to her car. She pressed her key fob unlocking the doors. He opened the door for her. That newly unnamed tension settled between them again.

He cleared his throat before asking, "Are you going to Carl's tonight?" She nodded.

"Yes, I'll be there," her voice was throaty in a way that she barely recognized 'What the hell was that?' Her eyes were transfixed on his.

"I'll see you there then," he said, not breaking their eye contact. His words sounded sexy in a way that she was pretty sure he didn't intend. He took her hand.

"Alright," she managed to say in a whisper. She squeezed his hand before letting go and then got into the car. 'God you're so beautiful.Your lips. I've never seen lips so damn sexy. Stop Rick!' He gave her a moment to sit and then leaned into the opened door and slowly kissed her cheek – lightly touching the corner of her mouth. His lips lingered several seconds before he rose and stepped back, 'so freakin' soft'.

She didn't realize her eyes had closed until she opened them to see him staring at her. 'You smell so incredible. I'm gonna have your scent on me for the rest of the day. 'I am definitely not showering for a while.' She smiled and then softly giggled. His face looked flush and had become a pale shade of red.

He smiled back, never taking his eyes off of hers, "Um…See you tonight," he breathlessly mumbled before gently closing her car door.

A/N: As you can see, I wasn't able to wrap this short story up in my planned three chapters. It was too long...lol. One more chapter should do it. Please review and let me know what you think. Blessings and thank you again for reading :-)