Very happy to come back to this story after months and months of writer's block. However, there is something I would like to address.
While I do appreciate the enthusiasm for this story. I kindly ask reviewers to not leave reviews asking for an update on this story, on my other works.
This story is very plot intensive, and I want to give you all the best that I can. Unfortunately, that does come with a degree of writer's block. Writing other stories helps.
So, once again, I am flattered by the enthusiasm, but asking for an update on this story on my other stories, is not only stressful but unkind. I figure that it was not done maliciously - but still, I needed to address it.
Thank you all for your patience, on to the story.
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She can probably hear my goddamn heart beating.
Rick was sure of it, and he felt like a fucking teenager.
He thinks of Michonne's impossibly long legs stretching past his dingy King's County Police Department softball league shirt. He received an XL by accident - the entire department called him Slim for a year.
Now, four years later, it graced the most lithe, statuesque yet curvy body he'd ever seen. She wore it like one of those models in the fashion magazines Lori used to keep in the bathroom.
His heart rate increased.
He took a deep breath to calm himself only to breathe her in - shea butter, white lilies, and spearmint (her favorite toothpaste).
"Jesus Christ," he muttered, scooting closer to the edge of the bed. The desire that coiled within him was suffocating and highly inappropriate given the situation.
He thinks about holding her hand on the car ride back home. It was soft, she was soft. He took another deep breath; it was actually vanilla honeysuckle. Jesus Christ.
"Rick?"
Rick cleared his throat, he knew it, she could hear his heart beating like a racehorse, "Yeah?"
He felt the bed dip as she shifted to face his back, "I'm sorry."
Rick's brow crinkled in confusion - he turned to face her. He could make out her features, beautiful and stoic, holding in an emotional downpour.
"Sorry?"
"I shouldn't have done this. Gone after him. Brought you into this," Michonne brought her hands to her forehead pushing back her locs, "Brought Carl into this. Jesus, I bought your kid into this."
"Michonne-"
"Andrea died so quickly after…after Andre. And my fucking bloodlust for revenge led me here."
"Michonne-"
"What was I thinking? That I could expose him? Bring him to justice? With what? My expertise in getting rich assholes like him off my entire career? I'm a fucking idiot. And now Mike-"
Michonne's tirade was interrupted by Rick's warm hand finding its way to the side of her neck; his finger grazing her jaw line.
"Stop it," Rick said quietly but definitely.
"Rick-"
"I said. Stop it." Rick punctuated his words, his thumb unknowingly skimming her pulse, "You are not an idiot. We are not in danger. And you're doing the right thing."
"I don't need a pep talk-"
"Well, it's a good thing this ain't a pep-talk," Rick pulled her in closer to rest his forehead on hers. He took a deep breath in - steadying himself for the onslaught of her scent and body heat, "You're doing the right thing 'Chonne."
Michonne swallowed. Overwhelmed with feeling safe for the first time all day.
She took a deep breath, her nose brushed against his.
She felt his breath hitch. She starts to apologize when his lips brush hers.
Their first kiss borderlined on frenzied. This was different. This was languid, exploratory - dangerous. She angled her head closer and brought her hands to the nape of his neck. She sighed with relief when he drew her in closer. He let out a slight moan in response. His left hand made its way under the oversized t-shirt. He was certain - Michonne could feel more than his heartbeat.
But he remembered their first kiss. He remembered the look she gave him when she sprung from the couch. With a strangled grunt, he separated his lips from hers.
He could see her eyes in the darkness - dark, fiery, and confused.
"I gave her the papers. I gave Lori the divorce papers tonight," Rick said, then instantly winced at the crassness of his own delivery.
He rolled on top of her. Relishing in the feel of her soft long legs instantly finding their way to his waist.
Michonne paused, blinked.
Then, suddenly, laughter rippled from her throat.
Rick rolled to her side, confused.
"I'm sorry," Michonne said in between giggles, "I just was not expecting that."
"I-"
Michonne kept on laughing. So hard that she snorted.
Rick grinned despite himself. Her laugh has always been contagious. He began to chuckle.
"I'm sorry Rick. This is all so-"
"Ridiculous?" Rick interrupted, still laughing.
Michonne just nodded, snorting again.
Rick laughed, snaking his arm around Michonne's waist, pulling her into a hug "I'm sorry."
Michonne nuzzled Rick's neck as their laughter died down, "Don't apologize. My brain is misfiring. For a brief moment I forgot that you, the best thing in my life, are married."
Rick stilled momentarily before squeezing her tight, "The best thing in your life huh?" He said feigning a cocky affectation.
"Don't let it go to your head Detective,"
Rick kissed her forehead, "Too late."
A comfortable silence blanketed the skyline's reflection sparked in the room.
"So, you gave her the papers?" Michonne asked quietly.
Rick nodded, situated under his chin, Michonne could feel it.
"It was weird," Rick said quietly, "Being there. It was like nothing's changed."
"But you still gave her the papers?"
"Yeah. Nothing's change and that's the problem. It's been a performance for years. Getting dressed up, entertaining our friends and family. Smiling in front of Carl. Only to argue, and cut each other down in the kitchen away from everyone."
Rick sighed, "I'm tired of pretending."
The hand Michonne had placed on his chest gave him a reassuring caress.
"I thought I was hanging in there for Carl. Meanwhile, Carl's been the best about all this change."
Rick could feel Michonne grin, "You've got a wise and formidable kid on your hands there, Detective."
"He is, isn't he?" Rick elated quietly before turning serious, "He made me realize that I can handle this change. He made me realize that I'm not leaving this marriage for him or even because I want to be with you. I'm leaving this marriage for me. Because it's the right thing to do. Becuase I'm done pretending."
"I'm happy for you, Rick." Michonne said quietly.
"I mean, don't get me wrong, I still very much so want to be with you."
Michonne let out a joyful scoff, "You don't say." Rick's hands were getting dangerously close to her ass.
"I just wanted to let you know."
Rick could feel Michonne nod and her grip around his torso tighten.
"What am I going to do about Mike?"
Rick squeezed her back, "We, Michonne. What are we going to do."
"Rick, this has gotten so personal. Nothing is off limits. I can't do this to you and Carl."
"Are you firing me, counselor?"
"What? Of course not."
"Then let me worry about me and Carl."
"Rick-"
"Michonne," Rick answered back seriously.
Michonne just sighed and closed her eyes.
"Wow, I can't believe I won that one, you must be tired."
Michonne scoffed again.
"We are going to figure this out," Rick repeated, his arms wrapping tighter around Michonne's T-shirt clad body, "I promise."
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Michonne woke up to an empty bed. Although she had only been asleep for a few hours, it was the best few hours of sleep she's gotten in a year.
It was still dark. She looked at Rick's alarm clock, it was 4:44 am.
His side of the bed was cold. She got up and cracked the door to Rick's bedroom open. On the other side, Rick stood in the kitchen, shirtless and staring pensively at photos strewn on the kitchen table.
Michonne quietly left the bedroom.
Rick's head popped up, he whispered, "Hey, I didn't need to wake you-"
"You didn't," Michonne said, moving closer to the table. At the top right of the table was the photo of Andrea, "What's going on?"
Rick sat at the table and motioned for her to sit on his lap. She gave him a look that he ignored as he extended his hand to her.
She playfully rolled her eyes as she descended onto his lap. His arms slinked around her waist as her arms slinked around his shoulders.
"The night of the courthouse bombing, you mentioned Andrea. I've been digging into her ever since, but I want to hear about her from you."
Rick could feel Michonne's body grow cold, she attempted to get up from his lap. He gripped her waist to keep her put, "I know this is painful, but this is important. And I'm right here, I want to listen. I want to know her like you did."
Michonne closed her eyes and sighed.
"Tonight, when we went to the morgue to see if it was Mike. That wasn't my first time doing that. I had to identify Andrea. Amy was in the hospital after overdosing. They were foster kids, and I was the only other name Andrea ever put down."
Rick's hand rushed to grab hers. He let her continue.
"They ruled it a suicide. There was a note, there was a rope. But I just knew it wasn't true. I knew Andrea, Rick, she would never do this."
Rick nodded, squeezing her hand.
"I told the police that, but they wouldn't listen to me. They thought she was some mentally ill bimbo who was obsessed with The Governor."
Rick nodded, "They found her in his hotel room."
"Yes, they found her in his hotel room. They also found hundreds of photos, letters, and emails that she sent to him. I don't know how he did it, but he made it look like it was one sided. Like he hadn't pursued and seduced her. Like it wasn't a consensual relationship when it was."
Tears rimmed Michonne's eyes, "I knew about them for months. I gave her every speech about how she shouldn't mess with a married man. Especially a married man who was her boss. But she wouldn't listen. He told her that as soon as he got into office, he would divorce his wife."
Her reaction to him after their first kiss finally made sense. But he didn't let go of her hand.
"I had gotten so annoyed with her that we were barely talking at that point. So, when I got called to the morgue. I-," Michonne took a deep breath, "Andrea was a fighter, Rick. Even if the relationship went belly up, she wouldn't do this. She would never leave me or Amy by choice. And even if I didn't know that I know that she meant to see me that day."
"What do you mean?"
"She left me a message that morning. It was frantic. She said she needed to talk. I didn't call her back immediately because I didn't want to fight."
"Did you show it to the police."
Michonne nodded, "Of course. They said it supported the fact that she was crazy and wanted to say her goodbyes. I tried to get an independent consultant to do another autopsy, but Amy refused."
"She refused?"
"That's when I started to suspect him. Phillip. I tried to visit Amy in the hospital to convince her to let me run another investigation and when I arrived, he was leaving with a few men."
Michonne wiped away angry tears, "I wish…I wish I had just called her back. I wish I had just met up with her."
"Meet up with her?" Rick questioned.
"In the message. She wanted me to meet her at this coffee shop that we used to study at when we were in law school."
Rick's heart rate increased, "Michonne. Andrea is the key."
"What do you mean?"
"What did you think his motive was?" Rick asked, eyes frantically reviewing the photos and the data on the table.
"I thought that she was going to expose the affair."
Rick shook his head, "I think it was more than that."
Michonne followed his eyeline to the table. Andrea's photo was on the left and the most recent photo of The Governor was on the opposite side of the table, "You think she's the start of this?"
Rick nodded, "I think she caught onto what he was doing."
Michonne shifted her position on his lap, "She knew?"
Rick nodded again, "She was his chief of staff, right? My guess is that something reached her desk that she wasn't supposed to see."
Michonne waited for him to continue.
"Michonne, we've been following the money, we've been interviewing in every seedy part of Atlanta. Nothing pre-dates a week before Andrea's death."
Rick sighed, squeezing Michonne's hand, "I didn't want to upset you until I knew for certain, but I called in a few favors with my old boss Herschel. He's old school so he would never work for the likes of The Governor. I was able to get a hold of the autopsy file. Andrea had a high alcohol level and slight to medium trauma to the head. The police ruled it as a clumsy, drunk woman falling as she set up her suicide. But he could have easily incapacitated her, and then ran down to his gala while someone else did the dirty work. This way he has an alibi and other people can witness him finding her body."
Rick continues softly, "Your friend may have been in love with the wrong guy, but she wasn't an idiot. And I think he killed her for it."
The tears Michonne was holding in tumbled down in fat droplets. She looked so stunned Rick almost asked if she was ok before she peppered his face with kisses.
"Detective Grimes. You sweet, sweet, brilliant man-"
"'Chonne," Rick said as her arms looped around his shoulders to bring him into a tight hug.
"No one's ever believed me about Andrea. She had a laundry list of bad boyfriends and she hit the booze more than most. But you found the thread, you found the blindspot."
Rick nodded into the crook of her neck; relieved that this conversation went better than he thought it would but still upset at the news he had to deliver, "But me taking a look at an old file won't do anything. Especially if Amy will block us from exhuming Andrea's body."
Michonne detached from him with a wild smile on her face, "We don't need Amy, Rick. I know Andrea. And I know exactly why she needed to see me. We've got him Rick. I know it. We've got him."
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Thank you for reading.
