A/N: Hey Fam! So, I decided to conclude this series with this chapter. Three days of non-stop sexy times for our OTP has left me exhausted. lol I have to say I've had so much fun with you guys on this one. To everybody who favorited or followed, thank you so much. You guys are the wind beneath my wings :) And to all the hardcore fic-heads (like me) who left reviews, you always made me do my happy dance with your funny and thoughtful feedback. I made some friends in my PM's. Salute. One person's Richonne trash is a Richonne writer's treasure ;) lol (corny)
I'm working on some new fics and updates for existing ones, plus I have a list of fandom authors whose works I want to explore. (And maybe I should feed my kids or talk to my husband at some point? Eh...) Love you guys and as always: Viva la Richonne!
-comewithnattah
7:53 p.m. Day 3
The evening was warm and fragrant thanks to the humidity in the air. The wooded grounds around Alexandria had drank in the moisture from the earlier downpour, leaving a thick earthy pine-like scent. Michonne had waited- or at least attempted waiting, fidgeting with the grip of her katana as she sat on her knees wearing the biggest, goofiest grin.
She was relieved no one else could see her uncontrollable, exaggerated toothy smile as he approached. Her cheeks began to burn but she couldn't help it. She could still feel the impression of his steely erection sinking into her hip from when he pulled her close. She could still taste the oaty beer on his lips and smell the hint of soap mingling with his sweat. Currently, she could see his bowed legs jogging to her down the middle of the abandoned street as dusk settled all around them. With him closer now, she could hear his lungs trying to keep up with his unabashed sprint to her willing body.
As an unexpected emotional surge swelled in her chest, she thought, There he is- the vessel that carried an intimate kindness for every one of her senses to applaud: Rick Grimes.
"Judith good?" she called down to him, asking after their little squish.
"Yeah." Rick confirmed as he climbed up to her. "Maggie said Glenn needed the practice. Carl's with'um in case she gets fussy like last night."
"Good. Now, get your sexy ass up here!" She ordered the gorgeous man from King County, as he emerged from the ladder. She pulled at his plain white t-shirt like she was floating in the middle of the ocean and he was her only life line.
Instead of being on water, Michonne was in the air, high above the weedy grounds of Alexandria- floating all the same. She laid back on the plush plaid interior of the double wide sleeping bag she'd snagged from the garage. The insulated behemoth was a bitch to wash but the inconvenience of the chore paled in comparison to how badly she wanted to make a sticky, sloppy mess all over the microfiber material. It covered the wooden platform of lookout post seven, situated in a part of the community that was mostly unused as it was still under construction when the world stopped. All she could see was the sky glowing with hushed purples and dreamy pinks. Her view of the sky now included long brown curls streaked with silver, falling in her face as an equally slaphappy Rick rolled onto her body, grinning. The fool in love immediately began playfully biting at her neck, shoulders and breasts.
Michonne squealed at the ticklish attack but didn't push him away. She wiggled closer to him, in position underneath him. She was pretty much over her shyness with him. When they first started this she didn't think she'd ever get over feeling that twinge of intimidation around him. It was still there, deep in the pit of her stomach when he got close enough for her to recognize his cool musky scent. She still felt that resonate awe of him but it grabbed her now and drew her in, wrapping her tight like a spider's web. At first, it was so impossible to her that she'd gotten what she wanted, she dreaded the thought of turning him off somehow. But the more she had him, the more she realized she had him. The more he flirted with her-
by slipping that miracle-working tongue over that plump bottom lip to leave a sheen that reminded her of her own wetness there-
or anytime he gifted her with the shallow dimples in his scruff-covered cheeks when she thought she was being annoying but he called her "cute"-
or his constant need to ask where she was going or if she was "okay" with some aspect of his appearance, behavior or plan-
the more she archived these little gestures, the more she saw that her powerful attraction to him was wholly reciprocated. That awareness gave her license to indulge, to use him up. She knew it would just go to waste if she didn't, because it was all for her. He belonged to her and only her. The facts were: her man was sexy as hell, trustworthy, could lay professional grade pipe and, apparently, never ran out of pipe to lay. Now he had brought that big dick to her and she was about ready to crawl out of her skin in anticipation.
She caught him by the sides of his unshaven face guiding his mouth to her favorite places. "God, Rick! What took you so long?" She fussed through a moan. "We were about to miss it."
"You wanted me to make sure Abraham wouldn't interrupt us, right?" Rick reminded her, whispering with his lips at her ear. He hastily pushed her legs apart, lifting one of her thighs higher up his arm. Michonne gave a coquettish smile that Rick charged to devour.
"Yeah." Michonne conceded as he littered her entire face with little pink kisses, "So where is he?"
Rick stopped, lifting himself to kneel between her legs and remove her boots, "Long as he ain't here, do you really care?" He rasped with a skeptical eye, unbuttoning her pants. She answered with a slight shrug, shaking her head with a wicked grin. Rick lowered his head and laughed at her flippant attitude regarding the whereabouts of the serial intruder. "And you call me terrible..." he compared their behavior.
"Shut up!" Resting back on her elbows, still stretched out before him, she bumped his thigh with her own. "Well... Are you going to tell me what you did with him or what?" Michonne stretched her neck with impatient interest as Rick yanked around the jiggle of her ass to get her free of her jeans and panties.
"Naw." He declined. "You can go get him when'um done with you, though..." Rick laughed to himself again, remembering Abraham's bewildered look from just a short jog ago. Her blue-eyed crush rid himself of his shirt, casually giving her a view to the muscled planes of his carved torso as though the sight of him shirtless wasn't a 'thang'. "He's gonna be pissed. I'll let you deal with'em."
"Riiiiiick?" Michonne narrowed her eyes as he took her hand and pulled her up to straddle his lap. "What did you do?" she asked slowly, suspiciously.
"I did what I had to do make sure you got what you wanted... So," He threw his chin west and asked a question he already knew the answer to, "there's your sunset. Now what?"
Michonne bit her lip and shifted her eyes from his gaze pretending to think hard. "Hmm. How about..." She breathed him in as her hands wandered over his smooth hard chest, "the next round?"
Rick barreled down the block. He didn't even know he was running at first, but once he realized it he smiled agreeing with himself that it was an appropriate pace since Michonne was not far and waiting. He could still hear that word on her tongue like dessert for dinner: Daddy. He could still smell her on his lips and taste the body wash on her skin. He could still feel her hips in his hands, so obedient and now he could see her leaning over the wooden partition on the sentry post. Her smile was a beacon as he approached in the dimming light of day. She was a walking, talking, living, breathing emotion of his.
Love, passion, pride, inspiration, comfort... when these words were not enough, Michonne defined it all.
Rick could have predicted her first words to him as he came in earshot of her voice. Of course, her first concern was Judith and Carl, but once she was satisfied that they were fine, her next command made him permeate a tingling warmth from his heart to his stomach to his groin. He wasted no time scrambling up to her and settling himself in the cozy retreat of her thighs. He was dug in like a tick, losing his head in her. He wouldn't... he couldn't emerge until he had taken everything from her and left her full and purring.
Rick could remember that first night with her. When he'd gotten home that day, he swore all he wanted to do was turn his mind off for a while. And as they chased their release, he hoped he wouldn't give out before she did. It had been a long day. Somehow, their first kiss had rekindled the energy he had as a horny kid pawing awkwardly at Lori, but this time he had the experience to back him up. That long day turned into a long night. A night he'd known was coming. He had dragged those prismatic eyes of his up and down her body wanting to follow up with his fingers for long enough. You can't parade the little fat lamb in front of the lion forever. Soon enough, the lion's going to have a taste. And with his bite, Michonne began to hunt him as much as he hunted her.
The more Rick touched her, the more she begged to be touched- arching her back with urgency.
The more he kissed her, the more her lips found their way to his and then, more often than not, around the rigid tip of his sturdy cock.
The more he stroked her spot with his insatiable need, the more she opened for him to go deeper and deeper and deeper. He would come crashing into her slippery vale until she was amazed at her own tenacity and daring him to ease up with those brandy colored eyes.
Damn.
The facts were: His woman was divinely beautiful, believed in him, gave him peace and there was no rehabilitation for his addiction to her. He had become literally like the junkies he used to arrest and pity, wondering how they lost control of their lives so easily. And now he knew- it was the feeling that swallowed them whole and like them, Rick was owned.
He was not ashamed to admit that as a desperate man, he'd taken a desperate action in a desperate time. And he figured Abe knew about love and the power of pussy. The crass military man would understand... eventually. But Rick did not want to spend another moment talking about Abraham Ford. He was fixated on carrying out her every request, like making love with the sunset as a backdrop. He awaited further orders with her draped across his lap.
"The next round?" He heard her ask with a languishing gloss on her words.
But he didn't move. He only raised a brow with a dismissive huff and waited, a confident smirk playing on his lips. He slid one powerful hand mindfully to her throat, the other pulled at her hip, pressing her clit firmly on that serious swell beneath his zipper. "Be good an' ask me nice." He scratched over his vocal chords with a dominating tone that sent Michonne dizzily throwing her head back, moaning and pressing her breasts explicitly toward his face. She whimpered for him to suckle them into his hot mouth, but she only felt the heat of his breath over her nipples through the fabric of her shirt. "Say it." he advised her on an undertone with a slightly dazed shake of his head.
"I want you..." Michonne gasped as he unbuttoned her shirt, freeing her breasts and placing kisses on her heart. "I need you inside me..."
"Say it." He repeated the ultimatum, he wouldn't make a move until she complied.
Wilting like a thirsty lily as her clit began to pulsate against him, she said it. "Daddy."
For her obedience, he lapped up her full breast, tugging hard with his tongue. He moved to her mouth, then her neck and ear, his tongue ruling each spot. "You wanna cum for me, don't you baby?"
Michonne rolled her eyes closed, her face still aimed at the drifting magenta clouds above. Her sex wept over his impending hardness and Rick could feel the dampness seeping through the heavy denim of his pants. She managed a shaky, "Yes, Daddy."
He made his way to her other breast. It was drawn so tight that she winced when his teeth grazed her nipple as he popped it out of his mouth. "Michonne, I wanna to hear you, baby. Tell Daddy what you want." He coaxed her with that country drawl as thick on his tongue as her nipple.
Michonne brought her dark lustful eyes to his and melted at the flames behind the blue. She breathed out roughly and worked to release him from his jeans, eager to feel him cradled heavy on her tongue. She wanted his muscled shaft stretching the corners of her mouth so badly her eyes went misty with desire. "Let me kiss it, Daddy." she asked so sweetly, making her way down his body as he watched her, absentmindedly biting his lip.
His dick emerged in the soft twilight of evening, twitching like a man full of rage. She could see the heartbeat in his length as she lowered her head without another word and covered him with her lips, cheeks and tongue. The cusp of his dripping penis slid across the roof of her mouth to the back of her throat. Rick groaned at the intense feeling. He was so hard, he lurched forward catching her by the hair to ease her off before he came right then and there. "Just a little taste, baby." He sanctioned. "I gotta fuck you. I gotta feel you cum. I have to."
He had to. He had to hear that mewling cry right before she folded. He had to feel her fingernails at the back of his neck, in his hair, while he pulled against her grip to envelop her lips. He had to feel her shudder in his arms and cream around his dick. Oh god, he had to.
Michonne eagerly made love to him with her mouth full of his glistening dick until Rick stopped her, "That's enough. C'mere." He pulled her up and she whined at the loss of his taste. She was still pouting, swallowing the thin coating of precum on her tongue, when he angled his throbbing, aching inches to her slit. "You ready?"
"Please, yes, Rick. Please." She rocked her gleaming satiny opening over the crown of his cock and that was all he gave her, happy to see her writhe atop him with desire. "Please. Do it." She looked down at his veiny member... so close. It was enough to take her breath away. "Please."
Being called into action, he braced himself and ushered her savagely onto his length. He announced the decadence of her velvety wet walls with a stifled cry of her name.
"Michonne. Shit..." he struggled to say over the thunder pounding in his chest.
She hissed out a long breath over her tongue in agreement with Rick's trembling tenor. Before she could roll her sex on his electrified cock, he flipped her hotly onto her back, his ruggedly built body pushing almost painfully into hers. It was fun to say daddy during foreplay, but now his name coursed through the air.
Rick.
His name flashing like a neon sign in her mind and pushing past her pursed lips over and over, imprinting the architect of such overwhelming pleasure on her brain waves forever.
He propelled himself with sharp sinking thrusts, hurtling her backside into the downy-covered boards beneath her. He lifted himself on his arms to look down at the meeting of their bodies. Her legs were spread wide for him and her belly seized every time he went in reverse and she gasped for air whenever his hard fearsome dick plunged deeper. Rick put his back into it, pounding her center, the impact vibrating her g-spot.
Michonne was tight, so tight. He couldn't believe how viscerally his body reacted to the allegiant grip between her legs or the splashing friction created as she moved in time with him. She held onto him like a saddle on a rabid bull. One second she was saying his name, the next she was tensing with the force of a violently heavenly orgasm. He had never taken his eyes off her, he saw every nuance of her pleasure, from the quick-swelling build to the rippling quake of it. It threatened to sweep him away too but he wouldn't allow it to be over so soon.
As the curling release bathed her in ecstasy, Michonne turned her head to watch the slipping sun, almost out of sight but still casting a vibrant rosegold glow to the fluff of clouds hovering in the distance. The sight of the blazing disc seemingly descending into the earth made her want to fall as well, to just be lost to this feeling. But as hungry as she was for the feeling he gave her, she craved the man himself, the sight of him, even more. She turned back to Rick, whose eyes were traveling over her face canonizing every feature sculpted with her flawless ebony skin.
She peered up at him as she fought to keep her eyes open and on the man she loved, grabbing his face pulling him into a soft kiss that slowed his pace.
"I swear, you're the most beautiful thang I ever laid eyes on." He promised her, turning his attention back to the dark little nubs rising and falling between the open flaps of her shirt. He licked and nuzzled her breasts lovingly with a growling moan. "You can't be real." He said pulling out of her, still erect, to drop kisses down her abdomen. "You can't be mine." His tongue flicked out to taste that lovely dark pearl. His lips kissed the lips before him and he found his way inside her again, this time his tongue- curved and thick- dipped in.
Michonne was on board immediately and roused to assure him, "I am yours, Rick." She bucked against his face and pulled him by the hair, shamelessly deeper. "I am yours."
He brought his service back to the little batch of nerves housed in her clit, pressing against it to lick it with the broad part of his tongue then sipping it between his smooth skilled lips to suck. Simultaneously, he sucked and massaged her clit with the tip of his tongue. The otherworldly sounds pouring out of her made his dick, still wet with her juices, jump each time she screamed.
"Rick!" Michonne call out, "God! I love you." She couldn't hold back anymore, lifting her sex feverishly to his face as he devastated her with another orgasm, so powerful she begged him to stop.
And he did... only to penetrate her with his hoggish manhood again. Instead of leading a punishing momentum, he gently dragged his girth back and forth through her ultra sensitive walls. "I love you too, Chonne. You already know I do. Don't you?" He spoke over her mouth, close enough to kiss, but waiting.
She nodded. But he wasn't satisfied.
He hovered at her ear now. "Tell me. Tell me you know." He was still tenderly thrusting with purpose, her vulnerability with him bringing him so close he barely needed to moved to dispense his seed inside her.
"I know you love me Rick." Michonne answered, her words feeling like a message in a bottle to her former self: This man loves you Michonne. The one you want wants you too. You deserve love like this. You always did. "I know you love me, Rick."
That was all it took. Rick broke open inside her and felt a compelling force drawing him deeper, binding him. He kissed her and she received him impatiently. Then he collapsed on her chest to find his strength again but he never recovered. Michonne played in his hair, noticing the stars coming into view overhead. She felt his full weight pinning her to the floor signaling that he'd fallen asleep. She hadn't meant to say she loved him yet. But she was glad he snatched it from her and she repeated that truth to the top of his dreaming head, laying a kiss in his curls. Her eyes stayed fixed on heaven's pretty lights as she ran her palms over his hilly back and his defined arms, thrown over her.
Michonne heard him say her name, closing his arms more snugly. She answered him and waited to hear him speak again but he only repeated her name. She giggled when she realized he was dreaming about her. She listened to him mumble about her while she stared upward, eyes dilated and full of the full moon. Before long, she made her way to him in dreams of her own.
When dawn broke their positions had changed. Michonne was cuddled under Rick shivering from the early morning chill. At some point in the night, he'd cocooned them inside the sleeping bag. They hadn't meant to spend the night there and as soon as Rick's arm stretched from under the warmth, his eyes sprang open,
"Fuck! Abe!"
Michonne woke up with a start, too and covered her mouth fretfully, her eyes wide with surprise. "Where is he, Rick?" She said mid-panic pulling on her pants and boots.
7:37 p.m. Day 3
Rick and Michonne separated after Abraham's interruption. They had plans for this evening and Michonne crept away from the impromptu party to get ready, while she sent Rick to tie up loose ends.
"Hey, Abe." Rick found the big guy on the front stoop with Sasha, sitting close and talking softly. The scene made him want to get to his woman even quicker.
"What's up, Rick?" Abraham answered over the giggles of the woman beside him. She was calling him an idiot as usual for something he'd said and he sustained an elbow to the ribs for good measure.
"Hey, Sash." Rick acknowledged her, too, with a smile. She spoke back over her shoulder as he stepped out onto the front porch from the living room. He turned his attention back to Abraham, "I need your help, man." he asked regretfully. In all honestly, he loathed to break up the pair. Love was in the air, it seemed, in this place and Rick could feel it as he took a deep breath of the lingering smell of rain in the breeze.
"No problem, 'Milkman'." Abraham tested out a new nickname for the man standing over him at his back. "What is it?"
"It's nothin' big but it might take a while. Can you spare'um, Sash?" He made sure to ask Abraham's new leading lady. Rick was happy to see Sasha smiling again and to pull off this plan, he had to make sure she expected Abe to be gone awhile.
Sasha leaned in to plant a kiss under the sergeant's wild, wiry handlebar mustache, "I guess I can." She bumped his shoulder and kissed him again. "What's going on?"
Being honest and yet double-tongued, Rick answered, "Like I said, nothin' major. If all goes accordin' to plan, you'll find out about it in a bit. But you probably shouldn't wait up for him."
The two men walked away from the house side by side. Abraham was following Rick- to where, he had no idea and for what, he didn't seem interested. He had nothing on his mind but Sasha. Rick looked over and saw him blushing, presumably at something she'd said. He was so many shades of red- the ember-like tint of the short tousled curls on top of his head, the strawberry blonde of the whiskers on his lip and the deep pink spreading from his cheeks to his ears- Rick couldn't resist a comment.
"You're a lot more... red than usual. I'd think you were shit-faced if you weren't steppin' so high." Rick grinned.
"I am shit-faced. Shit-faced on life, high as an eagle's asshole. You inspire me, boy!" He clapped Rick on the back and rested his elbow on his shoulder for a few paces as they walked.
At the mention of inspiration, Rick thought of Father Gabriel and laughed inwardly, imagining the kind of poetry Abraham would write. He was relieved that, knowing Abe, he was in no danger of any odes. "I see." Rick confirmed. Abraham offered Rick a stogy from his plaid collar button-down that he'd dismally paired with his fatigues, Rick declined and the conversation went dead for about a block. Both the men in their own private daydreams. The pungent smoke burned Rick's eyes and he widened the distance between them a little.
Suddenly, it seemed, a somber mood took Abraham, Rick could tell. But he didn't pry. He almost felt bad about leading the unsuspecting man to such a stiff sentence for two counts of cock-blocking, but he was on strict orders. Michonne meant business. She left what to do up to Rick but she demanded something be done.
Rosita had left Eugene sitting on the floor and exited the living room as soon as Abraham and Sasha walked in. She was putting on a brave face- a pissed face, but Abraham could see she'd been crying. He'd known she would probably cry, but that was never his intent. He had ripped the band-aid off. That was always the smartest move, no sense in sipping poison- hold your nose and gulp it down, he figured. He told her she wasn't the last woman on earth, though she was damn near perfection. He knew he wasn't even close to being perfect. He'd said it that way so that maybe she'd see, with their little world getting bigger- he wasn't the last man.
All this weighing on his mind, Abraham broke through the friendly silence, thinking out loud, "Pops always did say 'you gotta crack a couple heads to make an omelette'.
"What's that?" Rick perked up from his musings about Michonne's curves- at the moment, her lips. "Isn't it 'crack a few eggs' to make an omelette?" He corrected.
"Not if you knew my pops." Abraham joked without his usual jovial tone. He and Rosita had been through a lot together, watching each other's backs, playing mommy and daddy to Eugene, finding their individual places in Rick's group and now, in this new place... Abraham felt a sadness about it too and he wanted to think about something else. He was never one to wallow. He wanted to think about love, hope and the promise of the future. Who better to do that with than Michonne's man and father of two, Rick Grimes. There was a lot of love in his life, a lot of hope, looking forward to the future. "He wasn't a man like you." Abe said of his father, handing Rick an honest compliment. "Your kids are lucky." He trailed.
"Thanks Abraham." Rick acknowledged, feeling somewhat odd at the sentimental mood of the biggest goon in Alexandria.
He popped his cigar back into his mouth, forming words around it, fixed between his teeth. "Looks like you and Michonne are working on a litter."
Rick chuckled and shook his head at the image of an 'Aunt Debbied-Michonne". "Well, we gotta even the playing field with these walkers, right." He was surprised to hear himself agree with Abraham and be much more forthright than he'd been with Denise.
"Amen to that," Abe said proudly, "Fuckin' A. I'll leave the shitty Huggies to you and Korea's finest, though. I'm just trying to bust a nut... you know, like normal people do." He laughed.
But the look Rick gave him as he flexed his salt and pepper jaw let Abraham know to tread lightly. If he thought he was gonna use the walls of Alexandria to bed hop and break hearts just to sow his wild oats, Rick's face said he should reconsider. "Meaning what, exactly?" Rick asked with narrowed eyes betraying that he stood squarely in Sasha's corner and wasn't about to allow any disrespect.
"Don't get me wrong," Abe was quick to amend, snatching his cigar out of his mouth and smoothing a hand down his mustache, "It's not just about bustin'... a... that. I'm just sayin' the stork can lose my address, you know. That's all. Shit." He danced his way out of Rick's death glare. "Before you go grabbin' your murder coat..." Abraham confessed, "She hasn't even let me stir the coffee yet, let alone add any creamer."
Rick chuckled and rolled his eyes at his friends ever descriptive turn of phrase. "Can't say I blame her." Rick thawed.
"She says I have to keep my nose clean, fly right and convince her. Everybody ain't as pretty as you. Some of us don't have it as easy as America's Next Top Sheriff. I mean, I got the blue eyes," He said looking at Rick in comparison, "But I guess the red hair and pasty white skin makes me a talking American flag."
Rick laughed again.
"I guess the Star Spangled Banner doesn't get chicks off anymore."
"I don't think it ever did but..." Rick shook his head, his laughter finally resting in an amused smile. "And don't think it was so easy for me, man. I been waiting along time for this."
"And it's worth the wait?" Abraham asked even though he already knew. He knew he would hold his dick as long as she wanted him to and when he finally got the green light, the rockets red flare and bombs bursting in air would be like soda fizz compared to the fireworks he was going to make for Sasha.
"It's so worth the wait, you never want to wait again." Rick swore with particular meaning as they turned the corner down another street, getting further and further from the occupied houses. "Makes you do crazy thangs."
Rick and Abraham continued to chew on the subject of women, sex and love until they got to the last three-story house on the empty block. "This is what I wanted to show you." Rick tilted his head to an extension ladder leading to the roof. "Up here." Rick went up first and Abraham followed. When they got to the slightly sloped roof Rick looked off into the distance then turned to Abraham, "What do you think? You see it?"
"See what?"
Rick gave a disappointed sigh in what really was an award worthy performance. He looked around the roof, expectantly, by their feet. "Shit, I left the binoculars. Just stay right here. I'll get'um." He said already climbing down. "You just stay here and get a feel for this spot."
After a few beats of doing just that Abe called to Rick over his shoulder, curious now, "Why? What you thinkin'?" Was he thinking a new look out post? Or did he see something useful over the walls? As he wondered, Abraham heard the startling metallic bang of the ladder being lowered. He moved quickly to the edge and looked over. Rick was moving the ladder and walking it down, rung by rung, until it laid flat in the grass. "What the fuck, Milkman?" Abe shouted more in shock than anger.
"Sorry, Abraham. I'll be back to get you in a little while." Rick told him in an apologetic tone. "Just stay here... finish your cigar and... enjoy the sunset." Rick said as he ran off to Michonne, his boots pounding hard against the asphalt.
Abe didn't beg or try to call him back. Rick had that look of desperation and whatever he was up to, Abe knew nothing he said would change his mind. He watched him over the line of shingles and chimneys until he rounded the corner out of sight. "Run like the wind, you wet dick fucker." Abraham reverently mumbled to himself. He felt oddly inspired by Rick's nerve and the size of his balls. He sat on the soggy roof, finding the low lying sun and taking another pull from his cigar. He followed Rick's advice to enjoy the scene, though he was completely befuddled by 'his Inspiration's' insane actions. Abraham Ford had carried out more than his share of crazy of schemes. Being an expert in this arena, there was only one thing he could think of that pushed all men off the edge of reason. He wasn't sure how Rick's behavior added up, but he had one hope-
"This sure as shit better be for pussy. And he'd better thrash said pussy." Abe sighed to himself, "Next time I see Michonne, Rick better be pushing her around in a fuck'n wheelbarrow."