A/N: I'm honestly having so much fun writing this story; I'm going to keep cranking while inspiration is hot. Thank you for the feedback and I hope you enjoy this next chapter!
"I wish you would have said something, Mike."
A long silence followed this statement, a faint static ringing dimly through the receiver. For a moment, Michonne feared that Mike had simply left the conversation. Finally, he spoke.
"I wanted to Michonne," his voice was quiet, laced with a sadness she hadn't heard before. For the first time since their breakup, Michonne felt her heart ache.
"Did you know the whole time?" she asked, feeling like the world's biggest asshole, but needing to know.
"I think…" Mike cleared his throat. "I think part of me knew. But I didn't know for sure until Terry and me got close."
Michonne digested this. "How long have you been with him?" she asked quietly.
"It happened around Christmas break. I didn't know how to tell you. You were a good girlfriend, Chonne. I didn't want to hurt you like that."
"You could have told me," she sounded like a broken record.
"I wanted to," Mike sighed. "I didn't know where to start. You are Terry are the only ones who know."
Michonne pulled her knees into her chest. The radio droned lowly in the background, the sound of Michael Jackson's "Remember the Time". It only enhanced her melancholy. She reached over to switch it off.
"I wanted to like you," Mike began again. "I figured if I could like any girl, it'd be you."
"Thanks," the sentiment didn't quite cheer her up, but it helped. A thought occurred to her. "How'd you know you liked Terry?"
Mike choked on the other line. "Chonne, I don't think-"
"I want to hear it Mike," Michonne sat up straighter. "I promise you, I'm not mad."
"All right," Mike cleared his throat again, beginning tentatively. "We were just hanging out a lot. Talking a ton, normal stuff like that. Then it started to mean something more."
"Who kissed who?" the questions tumbled out fast now.
Mike chuckled awkwardly. "Uh…he did. The first time at least."
"And you just knew? Like, was it a feeling or did it happen kind of slow-"
"Damn, Michonne. I don't know if I can explain," he broke off. "Why are you asking?"
Michonne paused. "Because…" she swallowed, resolving to let Mike in, "You know Rick Grimes?"
Mike did laugh then, a deep chuckle that was familiar to her. "Yeah girl, everyone knows Rick."
"We've been making out a little bit since prom," it came out almost as one word. Mike's laughter intensified.
"Oh snap! Are you feeling him?" Mike's voice perked up.
It was Michonne's turn to laugh. "I think so. I mean, he's a good kisser or whatever."
"Props girl. Everyone's been trying to pull him since he bounced Lori's trifling ass." Mike sounded impressed. "I thought I saw you sneak off together when those girls were fighting."
Michonne's stomach dropped. "Do you think anyone else noticed?"
"So what if they did?" Mike scoffed. "You embarrassed to be making out with the second hottest guy in school?"
"The second hottest?" Michonne paused. "Who's the first?"
"Girl, you dated him." They both laughed. "Rick's all right though. Why are you buggin'?"
Michonne considered this. "I'm leaving for the West Coast the end of summer. I don't know what Rick's doing. I don't want to get attached."
Mike snorted. "You sound pretty attached to me, Chonne."
She swallowed. "You think it's a good idea?"
"I think you can't plan life. Otherwise, we'd be together heading for college." They both paused. The once plausible plan seemed like it was from a whole different universe now. "Life does its own thing, you know?" Mike sighed.
"I guess so," Michonne exhaled.
"Look, I don't mean to be like this, but could you keep this on the low? I'm not ready for everyone to know yet."
"I won't tell," she promised. "Tell Terry I'll be cool."
"I will," Mike sounded relieved. "I'll talk to you later."
"Later," Michonne began to pull the phone from her ear.
"Oh, Chonne?" Mike cut back in. "Cut Rick some slack. He's not a bad guy."
Michonne smiled. "Maybe I will."
"I would if I were you," Mike laughed, leaving the conversation on a high note.
Michonne sat on her bed, her head spinning. Saturday stretched before her, the possibility of an afternoon off before work. She'd planned to call her girls, maybe go to the mall. Instead, she dropped her bare feet to the carpet and beat a hasty trail to the kitchen. She returned to her room moments later, holding her mother's phone book.
A few minutes later, she clutched the receiver in a death grip, trying to steady her breathing.
"Grimes residence," a woman with a thick southern accent greeted her.
"Is Rick there?" Michonne's voice rose at least three octaves as nerves overtook her.
"He's round here somewhere. May I ask who's calling for him?"
"Michonne," she inhaled roughly, listening to the woman on the other line holler for Rick in the distance.
"Hey Chonne," Rick was breathless on the other end, but his deep voice still gave her goosebumps. "What's up?"
"Hey Rick," she lost her train of thought momentarily, shaking just the slightest.
"Hey," he repeated, sounding amused. "How are you doing?"
Michonne steeled her resolve. "I'm good. I was calling to see if you wanted to hang out today." She felt like she was going to be sick.
"Outside? In public?" He kept his tone teasing but the shock was plain in his voice.
"If you want to," Michonne licked her lips, waiting.
"I'll come get you," Rick told her.
-l-l-l-l-
"Just take it slow," Rick cautioned her, adjusting the helmet on her head. "I put you on one of the easy ones."
"Why?" Michonne smirked at him, "You think I can't handle it?"
Rick grinned. "I've got no doubt you can. I just didn't expect you to wear a dress."
Michonne tugged at the skirt of her yellow baby doll dress. "You don't like it?"
Rick cocked a brow. "I like it," his eyes raked over her appreciatively. Beneath his blue flannel, his neck began to flush. He cleared his throat, handing her the aluminum bat. "Let's see what you've got."
Michonne stepped into the cage, clutching the neck of the bat. She was acutely aware of Rick's eyes on her. He retreated to a corner behind her, leaning against the metal fence.
"Ready?" he asked, holding up a quarter.
"Ready," Michonne bent her knees, choking up on the bat. Rick dropped the coin in.
The first ball shot out, arcing towards her. She swung, clipping it. It sped off sideways.
"Not bad," Rick observed. She felt his hand on her back, nudging her forward. "Rotate your hips more."
The second ball soared towards them. She swung again, striking with more force.
"Like that?" She swung again, sending a third pitch flying.
Rick whistled lowly. "Not bad at all." He watched her connect with five more in succession. Michonne let the bat hang loose in her hand as the batting cage powered down.
"Your turn?" she asked, extending it to him.
Rick grinned. "C'mon." He led her past several rows of cages. Down here, the machines were pitching much faster, whipping the baseballs in almost as fast as Rick could throw them. He lifted the helmet off of her head and placed it over his navy blue ball cap, tossing her ponytail playfully over her shoulder. Michonne smiled as she watched him seize a wooden Louisville Slugger and head into the cage.
"Don't choke," she teased as he lined up with the plate, swinging experimentally.
He just grinned, dropping his quarter in. Michonne's taunts disappeared.
Rick was very, very, good at this.
She watched the muscles in his arms flex as he connected with ball after ball, sending them sailing out toward the back fence. His whole body moved in unison, working as his hips swung time and time again. A faint sweat broke out across his face, adding to the whole picture.
"You ok?" he asked her a few minutes later, stepping outside the cage and wiping his forehead.
"Just thirsty," she managed to squeak out. Her mouth had gone completely dry.
"I'll buy you a drink," Rick reached for her hand.
Michonne took it without question.
They ended up in a booth inside, their backs to the wall. Rick's leg was pushed flush to hers, the jeans scratching her bare skin. She sipped her slushie nervously.
"When are you going to let me take you out?" he adjusted his ball cap, tilting the bill up so that he could look at her.
"We're out now," Michonne took another gulp.
Rick reached around her, tucking his arm around her waist. "Slurpies don't count," he leaned in, tucking his chin to her shoulder.
Michonne turned her body towards him, leaning into him. "When's our next day off?" she asked him.
Rick grinned brightly. "I'll have to check." He kissed her cheek. "Sorry about yesterday," he whispered. "I didn't know you weren't used to…" he trailed off.
Michonne flushed with embarrassment. "No; I'm sorry. I should have known—"
Rick cut her off, stealing a sip of her drink. "I just kinda figured you and Mike…I mean, I don't see how a guy can kiss you and not get excited. I saw him at the theater yesterday with his friend. What's his name?"
Michonne choked. "Terry," she coughed out.
"Yeah," Rick paused, his eyes drifting to the plate of French fries between them. "Sometimes I wonder…" he cut off. "I guess, I just don't get how he could be with you and stay calm. He must be Superman."
Michonne couldn't meet his eyes. She was going to keep Mike's secret, even if it killed her. Three years together bought him her allegiance.
"I just don't think he felt that way about me, is all," she shrugged.
Rick rubbed circles into her waist, his fingers drifting to the hem of her skirt. "I don't think he likes girls," Rick burst out. "Which is totally cool…it's just," he fiddled with his hat with his free hand.
Michonne's eyes went wide. "Why do you say that?"
"I don't mean to talk shit or anything," Rick sounded nervous. "I just see him sometimes with his friend late at night at the theater. They don't seem like friends." He noticed her expression at last. "Shoot, sorry Chonne. I didn't mean to freak you out."
"You didn't," she cut him off. She turned fully to look at him, their knees touching. "Look, Rick, you can't tell anyone else this."
Rick's brows jumped in surprise. "I haven't. I wouldn't—"
"I…caught Mike yesterday," she disclosed. "We had a talk. We're cool, but he doesn't want anyone to know."
Rick turned beet read. "Oh," he exhaled. "Yeah, of course I wouldn't say anything. It ain't my business." He took another sip of her drink. "That's explains it though."
All at once, Michonne found herself laughing. Rick joined her, the tension broken.
"Did you know?" he asked her.
"No," she chuckled. "I feel kinda bad about it."
Rick shrugged. "Don't beat yourself up. I'm actually kind of relieved."
"Oh yeah?" she asked. Her hand drifted down to his.
"Yeah," he kissed her softly. "Less competition."
She returned the gesture, pressing her mouth to his, the now familiar heat starting to rise inside of her. "Can we go to your truck?" she asked him quietly, aware of the staff and visitors around them.
"Yeah," Rick stood up, almost knocking their food over in his haste. "I know a place."
They hurried out, Michonne giggling, her heart pounding.
-l-l-l-l-
Rick's truck was parked in the shade of an outcropping of trees. Michonne had been to this lake often, frequenting it in the summers with Mike and Sasha and the rest of their friends. Normally though, it was a reprieve from the heat, a way to cool off. Currently, she felt like she was burning up.
"Tell me if you want me to stop," Rick's voice was heavy in her ear, his warm breath sending chills through her.
She shifted her hips in the backseat of his truck, the pressure between them almost unbearable. "Just, go slow..." she exhaled, gripping his arms.
"I will," he promised, kissing her. She relaxed against him. "Just lay back, ok?"
Michonne complied, her stomach shaking. Rick hovered over her, continuing peppering her exposed skin with his lips.
"Have you done this before?" She whispered.
He lifted his head to look at her. His hat was somewhere in the front seat, his curls free from its confines. She reached for his hair, calming herself. Rick shut his eyes, leaning into her touch.
"I haven't in a while, Chonne," he ran his hand over her leg, stopping at her thigh. "I won't do anything you don't want me to. We can stop-"
Throwing caution to the wind, Michonne leaned up, crushing her mouth to his. They settled into familiar territory, exploring one another with open-mouthed kisses. Their breathing came in gasps as she grew more bold. She groped beneath his flannel shirt, delighting in the tightening of his muscles as she touched him. He moved against her with a strangled groan, tentatively rolling his hips. Michonne didn't pull back this time, but pressed up into him.
Her tentativeness melted away as Rick kissed her deeper and deeper, tugging gently at her hair, clutching at her hips. She bent a knee, bringing her leg up around his waist. He fell forward into her, pressing against her center. She moaned out loud. Acting on instinct, she reached down, palming the bulge in his jeans.
The sound Rick made nearly caused her to fall apart. His hand tightened around her thigh, sliding up. His fingers just brushed the fabric of her underwear.
"Can I-" he began, breathless.
"Yes!" She nearly screamed it in her excitement. Her slender fingers fiddled with the button of his jeans. "Can I?" She asked.
Rick ripped his hand from her leg, almost popping the button off as he jerked his zipper down. Michonne wasted no time, snaking her hands in.
"Shit," Rick nearly collapsed into her. His head lulled forward, settling in the nook of her neck. Michonne pressed harder, enjoying his weight on top of her.
"Like that?" She asked, gripping him.
"Yeah," he panted, moving back to his original task. At the first touch of his hand against her center, Michonne let out a shuddering cry. "Like that," he whispered nipping at her lips.
-l-l-l-l-
"Excuse me," Rick's voice was light as he shifted past her in the kitchen at the theater. His hand brushed her waist, lingering just a moment too long.
"You're good," Michonne kept her voice light, even though her insides seemed to liquefy. The echo of Rick's touch lingered all over her body, the aftershocks of their afternoon tryst.
"Rick, can you help me?" From the lobby, Zeke called Rick's name.
"Coming!" He called back, hurrying to the door. He paused, spinning on his heel. In a flash, he kissed her on the lips before heading out towards Zeke.
Alone in the kitchen, Michonne didn't bother to hide her smile.
