A/N: I'm really enjoying writing this, and reading all of your feedback! Thank you so much for the kind words and the support. I'm still not sure how long this will go, but I promise you, I'm having a ball with it. I hope you all enjoy the next chapter


"This is the projection room," Rick swung the door open, allowing Michonne to walk in ahead of him. Film reels were stacked against a long desk at one wall, the projector sitting silently, facing outward. "These rooms are all connected," Rick gestured to a door on the other side. "But Zeke's the only one our age who's really qualified enough to work with these. You probably won't be up here much."

"They're pretty cool," Michonne leaned forward to examine the film canisters. Each one was labeled, the summer's big releases all written nicely in miniscule block letters.

"Yeah," Rick agreed, dipping his hands into the pockets of his khaki Dickies. "This is probably the coolest thing here. The rest is serving junk food, then sweeping it up later." He smiled at her.

Michonne allowed her hair to cover her face. She needed a reprieve, if only briefly, from the sight of Rick. No boy should have the right to look so good in a red vinyl vest and black t-shirt. Despite this undisputable fact, her mouth watered every time they got near one another. Since rehearsal that afternoon, Rick had wormed his way beneath her skin. Anytime he was near; her body seemed to pulsate.

"What else is on the tour?" she asked, desperate to keep her mind on the task at hand and not her desire to tackle him against the wall.

"Not much," Rick shrugged, turning to open the door for her again. The air conditioning from the hall rushed in, cooling Michonne immediately. She breathed a sigh of relief, straightening up to hurry from the room.

"So there's no hidden secrets? No closets to Narnia or anything I should know about?" she teased.

Rick grinned, dogging her steps as they made their way back down the narrow metal stairwell to the main floor. "Just a normal closet with normal brooms and popcorn and all that. I'll show you where it is when we make it back to the kitchen."

Michonne nodded, quickening her pace to put space between her and Rick. "So, how do shifts here normally go?"

"Rookies get the night shifts," he shot her a sympathetic look. "Not a lot goes on. Serve some popcorn, pour some pop, then it's waiting around until the shows let out and you go in to clean up."

"What do you do in between?" she asked. Maybe she could bring a book.

Rick shrugged. "Eat, shoot the shit with whoever's on shift with you."

"Who works night shift?" Michonne was curious about who'd she be spending these long hours with. She prayed it wasn't Shane. She'd had enough of him over the last week or so. Seemingly, he'd chosen Andrea after the slap heard round the world. Drea had taken to floating him around like a prize. Sasha was at her rope's end, but it gave Michonne plenty of excuses to make herself scarce.

"I volunteered to do it with you for your first week," Rick announced casually.

"You didn't have to," Michonne stopped in her tracks. Her heart seemed to be hammering out its best version of an R&B single.

"That's what friends are for," he grinned, stressing the word for her benefit.

Friends. Michonne had plenty of them. She wasn't so sure that she and Rick fit in the box anymore. She didn't sneak off into dark corners to whisper with Sasha or Drea or Ty. She certainly didn't spend inordinate amounts of time thinking about how handsome they were. Most definitely, she didn't makeout with them anytime they had a spare second alone.

But she did all of these things with Rick.

"Rick," she began, feeling the need to say something. "When we're at work, we're going to actually work."

"Of course," he responded flippantly.

They managed to work all of an hour and a half before succumbing. Michonne knew that it would be beyond embarrassing to be caught on her first day of the job in the closet with another employee, especially if said employee's tongue was down her throat.

It didn't stop either of them.

He shushed her as she let out a groan, covering her lips with his own to swallow any further noises. Michonne might have felt bad, but it was totally Rick's fault. No one told him to grab her ass with both hands like that.

Of course, no one told him not to either.

She probably should have made it clear to Rick that it was inappropriate for him to run his hands under her shirt, or tell him to cease sucking lower and lower on her neck that way. Michonne was too busy conducting an exploration of her own. Baseball had done Rick's body very good. It was only fair that she touch every part of it that she could. Her fingers wandered down his biceps and narrow waist before settling.

He yanked her forward, trapping her hands between their bodies, pressing himself against her. Heat flared, gathering in Michonne like water from a broken damn. The shaky gasp that escaped her took them both by surprise. She hadn't considered the repercussions of feeling Rick, hot and heavy and undeniably aroused against her. Every human anatomy and sexuality lesson came rushing back to her, even as she stumbled backwards into a stack of popcorn seed containers.

"Shit," Rick managed to catch her before she crashed through the cardboard. "You ok, 'Chonne?"

"Yeah," her voice was more timid than she would have preferred. She chanced a glance downward and nearly came undone. She knew men had reactions, but to her knowledge, she'd never caused one before. At least, not like that.

Rick looked at her skeptically, but took a step back, moving his palms to a more conservative place around her waist. "Do you want to go back out there?" he asked, clearly confused.

All Michonne could do was nod. Her body felt as though it wasn't her own anymore, a desire both foreign and familiar driving her. She took a few steady breaths.

"Want me to go out first?" Rick continued his line of questioning, trying to soothe her. "You can take a second if you need it…" he tilted his head, taking her in.

"Can you go out there with…that?" it was embarrassing to even ask about it, despite the fact that she had caused it. She was full of curiosity now, and some other emotion she didn't fully comprehend.

Rick blushed, the blood rushing back to his face. "Give me a minute, and I'll be ok." He hazarded a shy smile at her.

Michonne worried her lip between her teeth. "Sorry," she ventured.

"Don't be," he assured her, taking a moment to adjust his pants. "You didn't do anything wrong."

"That's the first time that happened," Michonne admitted. She'd kissed Mike plenty of times, but never had this transpired between them.

"Really?" Rick asked, surprised. He seemed to absorb that for a moment. Michonne suddenly wanted to escape.

"I'm going to go to the bathroom," she told him. "See you in the kitchen?"

"See you there," Rick nodded, watching her go.

Michonne walked as quickly as dignity allowed, rushing for the girl's room. She took a moment after freshening up to stare at herself in the mirror. She looked…flushed. She wondered if anyone besides her would notice her kiss-swollen lips, or the wrinkles in her clothing from Rick's affections.

"Michonne," the knock at the door startled her, as did Rick's voice. "You ok?"

She stepped outside. He was waiting for her, looking worried. She felt bad.

"I'm fine," she said, projecting a confidence she did not feel.

Rick was unconvinced. "I didn't mean to scare you, I swear." He reached for her hand. Michonne allowed him to take it. "We don't have to move that fast, it's just…" he let out a heavy sigh. "Look, can I take you out?"

"We're supposed to be working," Michonne grinned, attempting to joke.

"You know what I mean," Rick fired right back, deadly serious. "I want to take you on a real date."

"I thought you liked just making out?" she was flushed again, her stomach reeling. She vaguely wondered if this would always be her body's reaction to Rick.

"I do," Rick took a step towards her, "But I want more than that."

Michonne opened her mouth, unsure what to say, her mind and her emotions completely at war. She was saved by the sound of a crash in the lobby. Rick's head whipped around towards it.

"Shit," he breathed, releasing her. "We better go to work. We can talk about this after."

Dazed, she nodded, happily retreating to the safe place of a public space. A kid had knocked his entire popcorn and candy to the floor. Rick set about making him another one (at the mother's insistence). Michonne set off to grab the tools to clean it up. Work was safe, objective, and part of her plan for the summer. She eagerly leapt at the chance to get back on track. Enthused, she sped down the hall, barely paying attention to her surroundings. She was cut short by two figures near the storage closet, whispering urgently.

"Michonne," the voice of her ex made her jump. She looked up to see Mike standing beside Terry, both looking surprised.

"Hey Mike," she waved at him, doing her best to be cordial. She hadn't considered that she might run into him outside of school. She searched herself, looking for some reaction. Truthfully, the most she felt was inconvenienced.

"I didn't know you worked here," Mike stuttered, flustered.

"Just started," Michonne nodded. "Are you guys lost?" She looked around the empty hallway, wondering how the hell they'd ended up back here.

"What?" Mike blinked at her, sweating lightly.

"You're in the back hallway," Michonne explained. In fact, they were only steps away from where she and Rick had been together a few minutes ago. "It's employees only back here."

"Oh," Mike let out a shaky laugh. "We were looking for the bathroom."

"That way," Michonne pointed, eager to get away from the awkwardness of the situation. She didn't like the way Terry was staring at her. He'd never much liked her and Michonne had never understood why. She watched them make their way off before rushing for a broom and mop, shutting the door snugly behind her.

The next hour of busy work was a blessed reprieve from her feelings. Guests streamed in to the modest theater, and popcorn had to be popped, drinks poured, and tickets torn. The broom and mop sat in the corner, neglected.

"I'll put these away," Rick told her, one tool in each hand. He was coming towards her, a look of determination on his face.

"I got it," Michonne took them, cutting him off. She still couldn't bring herself to look at Rick. He might want to continue their conversation. She didn't think she had the strength to brave that task at the moment.

She made her way back to the storage closet, trying not to think of their last tryst inside of it. Throwing the door open, she fumbled for the light. A shocked cry went up as the narrow space illuminated under the florescent fixtures.

"Michonne!" Mike dove behind the boxes she'd nearly fallen through an hour back.

Michonne stood wide-eyed, clutching the broom, the pieces of the puzzle slowly sliding into place. In front of her, Terry and Mike were sequestered together, looking every bit as wound up as Rick had been not so long ago.

"Oh," it was the only thing she could fix her mouth to say as she stared in surprise.