A/N: Sorry! Sorry, sorry for the delay on this chapter. Fluff is just... not my thing, as I'm sure you'll notice, so it takes me a minute to focus. Also, I heard you guys' pleas for more background on how Rick and Michonne moved on from The Kiss. I was planning to address it later, via a conversation between present day Rick and Michonne, but after the tremendous reviews on the last chapter, I really wanted to give you more than that. So I had to do some rearranging, but I think we got there. This'll probably raise more questions than provide answers, but I can't say that's a bad thing! So here we go. I hope you enjoy! You're all way too good to me. Like seriously, I cry. -Ash
6 - Accidentally In Love
A few days later, and things on the island were going swimmingly. The group had gotten fully acclimated to their new temporary lifestyle, from the perfect summery weather to the five-star service Michonne and Carol provided. In the four days since they'd arrived to Anguilla, they'd gone sightseeing at Sandy Ground Village, scuba diving on Dog Island, fishing and golfing at Island Harbour, and most recently, swimming with the dolphins at Blowing Point beach. It had been an exhilarating week so far, and with Christmas Eve on the horizon, the group decided not to make any plans for their fifth day on the island. It had been designated a casual Friday.
Which was why Shane and Andrea were reasonably perturbed when their makeout session in the sea was interrupted by the sound of hoots and hollers from their friends on the shore, all of them toting paddleboards, seemingly ready to go off on some adventure.
Shane promptly removed his hands from his wife's bikini top with a sigh and peered back at the enthusiastic group. "I thought we had a free day!" he shouted to them.
Andrea shook her head, licking her lips of her husband as she remembered that privacy was only an abstract concept when it came to this group. "Come on," she directed him with an exasperated exhale. "We'll pick it up tonight."
"Now you know your ass is knocked out by eight o'clock every night," he called after her, begrudgingly wading through the waist-high water to head back to shore. "I don't even know why you tell that lie."
"I'll take a nap today," she promised, smirking back at him. Almost a week on one of the most beautiful, romantic islands in the world – Michonne's place was located on a cove called Rendezvous Bay, after all – and they'd yet to have sex. Mostly due to all her different six-month-pregnant ailments. But she was going to try her damnedest that night.
"I know we're outside the US, but public indecency is still against the law," Carol commented with a wide grin as the happy couple made it to the group. "And I'm not bailing you out."
"So you're sayin' that not only would you let your baby brother rot in jail, but your sister-in-law, and your unborn niece and nephew?" Shane prodded her with his best guilt trip.
"No, just you," she smiled back, offering a towel to said sister-in-law.
"What are you guys doing?" Andrea huffed, a bit out of breath from the short walk. "I thought we were just lounging today."
"We were," Jenny interjeted, tying a colorful scarf around her curly hair, "but my husband had the great idea to go paddle surfing, and now, here we are," she gestured to her big yellow paddleboard before rolling her eyes at Morgan.
"I just figured, how many times are we gonna be in Anguilla?" he cut in in his own defense. "We should enjoy the time we have here."
"Well Michonne lives here now, so we'll probably be here a lot," she countered.
"Where is Michonne anyway," Andrea asked, scanning the small group for missing parties. "And Rick?"
"Somewhere together, I'm guessing," Carol mumbled with a deliberate smirk. The two of them had been thick as thieves all week long, and it had not gone unnoticed, namely by herself and Andrea, but they'd yet to find an opportunity to bring it up to either of them.
"Are they coming?" Andrea continued to wonder as she peered inside, not seeing any sign of them.
"They've got young kids," Morgan coolly reminded them. "Give 'em a minute."
"Somethin' tells me it ain't the kids that's keepin' 'em," Daryl cut in, taking a big sloppy bite of the egg sandwich he'd been forced to take to go. "Y'all know they've spent every night together this week, right?"
Morgan's eyes narrowed at that bit of information, unsure what it was meant to imply. "What's that supposed to mean?"
"Well it's Rick, so probably nothin' much," he joked with a smirk, "but it's hard not to notice."
"So do we think it's gonna be, like, a thing?" Andrea wondered, gazing at Shane, as he seemed atypically quiet, perhaps pretending to be uninterested in the subject, but she knew him too well to believe that. "What do you think?"
"I think we should mind our business," he nodded somewhat seriously. He didn't know what, exactly, was going on, but he'd figured out a long time ago that Rick's feelings for Michonne weren't always so platonic. And if he was taking that leap into something more, the last thing he wanted was for their friends and all their nosy-ass questions to deter him. "If there's anything goin' on, we'll find out soon enough."
Just then, Michonne and Rick came waltzing out of the bed and breakfast with their matching boards, bathing suits, and bright smiles, Andre and Judith flanking them with juice boxes and sand toys. They looked like one of those families that would cover some forward-thinking beachwear catalog or vacation brochure. Michonne regarded the group with her typical charming grin before noticing the strange, possibly suspicious looks on half their faces. "What?" she demanded to know. "What happened?"
"Nothing," Carol was quick to cut in, tending to have the best poker face among them. "We're just glad you're finally here."
"We had to make a stop at the bathroom first," Rick nodded toward the two little ones.
Morgan glanced over to Daryl and Andrea with his best I-told-you-so face as he patted Rick on the back. "Where's Carl? Is he comin'?"
"Should be right out," Michonne answered for him, still skeptical of her friends and all the weird looks being passed around. "Are you guys sure everything is okay?"
"Yep," Andrea chimed in cheerfully. She was already taking Andre's hand and waddling her way toward Judith as she eyed Carol. "If you two don't mind, though, I'm gonna stay back with the kids? I'm not really in the mood to try and balance on one of those things," she nodded at the colorful paddle boards they were all toting. "You guys wanna hang out with me today?"
"I do!" Judith raised her hand excitedly.
"Can we go get ice cream?" Andre asked, that being the only thing on his agenda for the day.
Michonne and Rick gazed at each other in mutual agreement and befuddlement, but they certainly weren't going to complain about a few kid-free hours during the day. "After lunch," Michonne advised both Andrea and Andre as she left her son and goddaughter with forehead kisses. "Be good."
Shane knew full well that his wife was only meddling, wanting to take the kids so that Rick and Michonne would have some time alone, but he couldn't knock her hustle. "You really wanna do this?" he chuckled, leaving her with a kiss, too.
"Sure do," she quipped quietly. "We've only got another week here. I think they could use a little push."
"Should we be this far behind them?" Michonne wondered out loud as she watched the image of their friends ahead of them grow smaller and smaller, effectively leaving the two of them behind.
And speaking of behind, Rick was rather distracted by the one in front of him, just barely covered by her red bikini. Michonne wasn't thick by any definition - she was tiny, in fact - but her ass was magnificently plump, like a perfect peach. And he had a front row seat to it as they paddled their way through Barnes Bay, and it had stolen his focus more than once throughout their short excursion.
"Riiick?" she turned back to him, ruffled by his silence, thinking her sing-song tone would bring him back to her. But instead, she was thrown even further by his contracting biceps as he paddled his way next to her, forgetting why she'd even called his name.
"Why are they so far ahead of us?" he asked obliviously, peering at their disappearing group. On the one hand, he was happy to take any opportunity he could to be alone with Michonne on this trip - especially in this bikini; but on the other, even his son had abandoned them, and he wasn't sure how to feel about that. "Are we doin' it wrong?"
Michonne giggled at his question, her mind going straight to the gutter, while it was clear he hadn't heard a word she said before him. She nonchalantly let one foot drag through the warm water as they floated toward their destination. "I dunno, I was under the impression this was a leisurely ride, but maybe we misunderstood."
"You think we should try to catch up to 'em?"
She attempted to give him a playful glance, one that would goad him into a race, but her gaze got stuck on his arms again, and it didn't want to let them go. She'd always known Rick to be lean - he was a runner, after all - and she liked that about his physique. It fit him. But seeing him half-naked every time they stepped into the ocean, it was obvious he'd been doing more than running lately. "Have you been lifting weights?" she decided to ask, unintentionally ignoring his question.
Rick's eyebrows raised in surprise, though he took his time unraveling what her inquiry meant. "Are you checkin' me out?" he grinned, albeit a bit self-consciously. But he figured if she was asking that, she probably liked what she saw.
"I am," she admitted with a cheeky smile, her eyes dancing across his chest and down his tight torso, about as smooth as the dolphins they'd gone swimming with the day before. "And when'd you start shaving your chest?" She chuckled again, thinking back to a time where he had hair on his body instead of his face.
Her questions left him feeling sheepish, so he decided not to respond, letting his flushed face do the talking for him. "So are we catchin' up with them, or do you wanna hang back here and keep checkin' each other out?"
Michonne smiled at his thinly-veiled confession, glad to know that her favorite swimsuit wasn't going to waste. "Tempting as that sounds, we probably shouldn't stray too far behind."
"Probably," he granted. Watching her glide along so effortlessly was doing a number on his confidence, given he could barely stay upright on his board. "I'll follow you," he offered.
"You wanna race?" she grinned back at him mischievously.
He didn't really, but the cocky smirk on her face was clearly taunting him, so saying no wasn't exactly an option. Plus, on the off chance he did win, he would enjoy the bragging rights that came with it. "Let's go then."
"Let's go," she repeated him, playfully antagonizing him before taking off. She giggled with glee as she expertly paddled her way through the calm waves, making headway toward the rest of the group and away from Rick with every stride. With the wind whipping past her face and nothing but an endless view of blue in front of her, it almost felt as though she was flying for a moment. "You okay back there," she turned back to Rick.
"Slow and steady," he nodded, keeping his eyes on the water. Every wave that passed, no matter how small, threatened to knock him off his feet, and he was determined to stay ready for them. "You should just worry about yourself."
"I don't need to worry about myself," she retorted. "I'm worried about you, because I'm about to leave you, and I don't wanna have to do that."
"Yeah, you're so kind," Rick sent back. Despite the sarcasm in their tones, the playfulness was evident. They were flirting. "You know, the more you talk, the more I gain on you," he noted proudly as he came up on the back of her board. "Keep talkin'."
"Goddamn it," she muttered, hearing his voice just behind her. She started to paddle a bit faster, no longer interested in a casual stride. She wanted to win.
Rick, on the other hand, was struggling just to redirect his paddleboard, every stroke only forcing him ahead faster. "Michonne-"
She turned as he called her, presumably to warn her, but before he could get the words out, his board was gliding into hers, sending them both crashing into the water unexpectedly. "Rick!" she shrieked as she fell in a giant splash.
As they came up for air, pulling off their Ray-Bans to wipe their soaked faces and brush back their dripping hair, Rick stared at Michonne; the way she glistened beneath the sun as she drifted toward him and her board, and he smiled. And so did she. Too lost in the moment to berate him for upending her. It was certainly helped by the fact that she got to enjoy that glorious gray beard, dripping wet, thereby sending her mind right back to the aforementioned gutter. Their eyes stayed locked, captivated, the two of them floating, both figuratively and literally around one another. Until Rick's smile evolved into a quiet chuckle, causing Michonne to giggle too. And before long, they were laughing uncontrollably, for reasons they'd never be able to articulate if asked. Loudly, genuinely, with big smiles that went up to their eyes and showed all their teeth and made them look like the two happiest people on earth. And for that tiny moment, they very well might've been.
Two hours later, the reunited group had made the decision to add parasailing to their list of activities for the day, and were seated around a parasail boat, speeding toward wide open sea. The idea was for the eight of them to pair off, each twosome getting a fifteen-minute ride through the sky. But as the clock began to wind down, Michonne found herself sitting with a serious case of jitters.
"Michonne," Carol called out to her friend, noting the apprehension behind her sunglasses. Twenty years in the classroom had given her plenty of experience with reading people. "You okay?"
"I'm fine," she exhaled with a nod, trying to focus on positive thoughts instead of the ones that depicted her slipping out of the parasail and plummeting to her death. It was fine. She'd be fine. "It's just hard for me to wrap my head around humans being in the sky without an airplane. But I'm fine."
"It's like eight hundred feet," Carl coolly reminded her, rather amused at how utterly uncool she was being about this. "Even if your rope snapped, you'd just fall into the water and you really would be totally fine."
"Yes, thank you," she tensely and sarcastically returned. "That helps a lot."
"Weren't you the one that wanted to go cliff diving when we were in Mexico?" Shane recalled from the other side of Carl. "Y'all remember that?"
"We did go," Daryl cut in, recalling that he was the only one willing to even take the jump with her. "The rest of y'all punked out like a buncha pussies."
"I never agreed to go in the first place," Jenny submitted with a raised hand. "You remember what I told you when you suggested it?" she directed to Michonne.
She smiled with recollection, letting it morph into a small chuckle as she realized Jenny had probably been right. "You said that I'd been hanging out with these white people too long." As the rest of the boat laughed, Michonne was quick to add, "That was many years ago, though. I've learned my lesson."
"Well I'm pretty sure this is much less dangerous than cliff diving," Carol declared, attempting to comfort her. "It's supposed to be relaxing."
Michonne only scoffed at the thought before looking to Rick, noticing that he hadn't said much of anything since they'd stepped on the boat. "Are you okay," she questioned him, lightly knocking his right knee with her left.
"Yeah," he promised quietly, taking the opportunity to glance at her profile. His mind had briefly wandered to that 1999 trip to Acapulco commemorating their graduation from UGA. One of countless fun vacations he'd been on with this group. But the only thing he really recalled about that particular trip was how distant he and Michonne had become by then. Never alone in the same room anymore - not before one of them would scurry off for some feigned reason. And even when they were amongst the group, their interactions were few and far between. He didn't even know she wanted to jump off of a cliff. And that was something he would've remembered. "Just thinkin' about that trip."
"Was that the one where you and Lori ended up with Carl nine months later?" Shane tried to recollect out loud.
Rick started to blush as everyone laughed, but he was quick to clarify, "We made Carl in Jamaica, actually."
"I was the one who got knocked up after Acapulco," Jenny tipsily raised her hand again. "Apparently these trips don't make for great birth control."
"Quite the opposite, it seems," Michonne laughed, her gaze landing on Rick again.
"Jesus, were all of us accidents?" Carl interjected amid the continued laughter. His expression was a mixture of disgust and amusement as he was reminded, yet again, that his parents were once young and irresponsible.
"You were a surprise," Rick corrected him, cocking his head back to get a glimpse of his son's face. "Judith was the accident."
More spirited laughter erupted from the group at Rick's joke, just as the captain made his way down to the deck with the rest of them. A short, tan, kind Englishman named Angus, who'd walked them through every step of the process more than once. "All right then," he announced with a clap of his hands. "So we're in our safe fly zone, and we can take up the first couple," he said, looking directly to Rick and Michonne. "You and the lovely lady ready to give it a go?"
"Oh..." Rick looked over to Michonne, smiling awkwardly. "You want to?"
She shrugged, still uneasy about the idea, but the thought of being next to Rick for the duration made it considerably less stressful. "Carl, you mind if I steal your dad?" she directed back to her godson.
"Please take him," he waved off, smiling at the pairing. "Shane and I already decided to go up together."
"Of course you did," Rick chuckled, hopping up from his seat with his apparent partner for the day. He helped her into her life vest before securing his own, all while Angus scurried around them, strapping a harness around their legs, along with their parachute. "You still nervous?" he asked Michonne.
"Yep," she returned immediately. But then topped it off with a smile before adding, "The life vest helps, though."
Together, the two of them made their way to the bow of the boat and took their seats as they'd been previously instructed, all while the rest of the group cheered them on. Michonne grinned again, because their silliness also helped to alleviate her fears quite a bit. She kept her eyes on Rick's feet as Angus and his assistant began to wind the crank that lifted them into the air, thankful that the ascent was was slow and steady. She barely even noticed when the boat was no longer beneath them, only air and a few splashes of water here and there. And higher and higher they went, their friends and their boat becoming smaller with every second, and she let out a tiny yelp. Excitement. Relief. Disbelief. Probably a mixture of all three. Because now, instead of feeling like she was flying, she actually was.
Rick should've been looking at the view beneath him. He knew it was breathtaking; something he'd want video of, to show Judith since she was too young to make this trip herself. But instead, he was fixated on Michonne. Because there was nothing more gorgeous than seeing her like this, suspended in awe, with the innocence of a child discovering some part of the world for the first time. She looked free. And it was stunning on her.
"Do you see this?" she asked in the highest of pitches, oblivious to his stare as she gazed at the impossibly blue and turquoise water beneath them. "My god." She looked above them, taking in the sky, and the bright purple and yellow parachute floating over them, then back to the sea below, trying to take mental pictures of it all. She wanted to remember this.
"It's not so bad up here, right?" he grinned, happy to see that she'd relaxed. Her shoulders had fallen, and she no longer had a vice grip on their harness, only holding on with one hand now.
She closed her eyes briefly, inhaling the sea air and exhaling sharply as she shook her head. "It's perfect up here."
Quietly, the two of them enjoyed the ride as they sailed past all the different coves and harbors that Anguilla had to offer. It was a romantic moment, even if only in the idyllic sense of the word, but it spoke to Michonne. It spoke to what she'd been feeling for Rick all day; all week. A happiness. Hell, she felt downright giddy around him sometimes. And it was why she didn't think twice about reaching out to take his hand. The moment almost demanded it, and she was happy to oblige. Those sparks were still there, and the magnetic pull too, as their fingers seemed to interlace on their own, and it made her smile. He made her smile. And for the first time in her life, she was wondering if - nay, she was hoping - she didn't have to be afraid of that.
January 2000.
Michonne let out a long, shaky exhale, watching as her warm breath mixed with bitingly cold air and then dissipated into nothingness. Central Park was a gorgeous sight in winter, and Tavern on the Green, especially so, all the trees densely decorated in white lights, now dotted with recently fallen snow. She'd learned it was one of few places in the city where snow didn't immediately turn brown and yellow within the day. And she was so excited to be there, celebrating the new year, enjoying her friends for the first time since summer. She'd only been gone from Atlanta for a few months, but god, she had missed it. She missed them. So why was she outside freezing to death when she could've and should've been inside with them? Probably for the same reason she felt like she'd been knocked off her feet when Rick and Lori announced their engagement. But she didn't know, or rather, didn't care to admit the answer to either of those questions.
The moment kept replaying in her head, though. After all the hugs and pleasantries were exchanged, she watched her best friend pull off her gloves and there it was, plain as day. Nothing big and impressive, which she wouldn't have expected from someone like Rick, even if he did have money, but it was a surprisingly elegant princess cut diamond on a simple silver band. She noticed it instantly, but the implication didn't hit her until several seconds later when her friend began to proudly show it off. And Michonne squealed and teared up, as BFFs are supposed to do for such occasions, but before they could even finish their celebratory round of champagne, she had excused herself to the bathroom, and instead, ended up outside the crowded restaurant, freezing and sighing.
"Hey," a tentative voice called out from behind her.
She rolled her eyes, knowing it was Rick, but wishing it had been Mike instead. She hadn't spoken to Rick in forever - not in any way that mattered, and she couldn't imagine what she would say to him now. "You should go back inside," she replied, not turning to look at him.
"You should too," he said, his voice getting closer. "I said I was going to the bathroom, but it'll look strange if we're both gone too long."
"Why are you out here?" she asked, ignoring his suggestion as he approached her left.
"Because I saw your reaction when Lori broke the news," he nodded quietly. His tone was gentle, knowing that what he was going to say next was nearly the opposite. "The real one," he appended. "Before you could paint the happy face over it."
Michonne finally glanced at him then, hating that he'd caught it. Did it mean that others did too? Or was he just that good at reading her?
"I was gonna talk to you about it first," he went on when he knew she wouldn't respond. "Maybe get your opinion on the ring. But… we haven't exactly been those kinda friends for a while."
"Yeah, well whose fault is that?" she quipped, turning her head away from him. She'd noticed a horse-drawn carriage pull up to the restaurant, the implied romance of it making her roll her eyes. It was about the last thing she wanted to see at that moment.
Rick chuckled at her sarcastic tone, unsure of how to reply to that question. As far as he was concerned, it was both their faults, at best. "Well I'm hoping you can just be happy for us," he submitted quietly.
"And I'm hoping you'll realize how stupid this is before you actually do it."
"Stupid?" he repeated, offended by her choice of word, his eyebrows quirked to show it. "What's stupid about it?"
"I can't think of anything that isn't stupid about getting married right now."
"So was I supposed to put my life on pause because you didn't want me as much as I wanted you?" he asked, peering at the side of her face.
Michonne gazed back at him, incredulous at his gall, but also genuinely sad that he would frame it that way. And it made her want to cry. Because for a time - after their moment on the couch; after they returned from Christmas break and he got back together with Lori like it never happened - she wanted him so badly she did cry. A lot. "That's really how you saw it?"
"That's what happened, Michonne."
She scoffed in frustration and in disbelief, questioning how that was the conclusion he'd managed to jump to. She had a mind to just tell him everything she'd been feeling for the last two years. The guilt over what they'd done, regret over what they didn't do. The jealousy that crept up when she saw him with her. The sadness over their disintegrated friendship. How she applied solely to law schools out of state because she didn't want to be around them. Him. But she was too angry at him to be that vulnerable. "You're gonna ruin your life," she said instead, her tone succinct. "No one gets married at 23."
"People do it all the time."
"People with nothing better to do."
He laughed mockingly at her objection to it all, unsure why she even cared. "What would you have me do, Michonne? Wait for you?" His typically warm southern drawl was hard, his frustration apparent, too. "You being in New York for three years is one thing, but I'm not sure how long it's gonna take for you to realize that Mike is just a high school sweetheart. That-that you're not stuck with him for the rest of your life." He stared at her, shaking his head. "At least I'm in love with Lori."
"Oh, is that why you go crawling back to her every time she treats you like shit?" she quipped with an equally derisive chuckle. "That's what it's called?"
Rick nodded at the insult, swallowing down his feelings and his yet-to-be-formed response, knowing that anything else he said would only fan the flames. And he hated that their once close friendship had devolved into trading barbs on a cold sidewalk because they were too scared and too altruistic to explore how they really felt about one another. Michonne was, anyway. And their anger was rooted in hurt, manifesting itself in ugly ways. "We should stop talking," he finally said, glancing toward the busy restaurant before gazing back at his friend. At least, he hoped he could still call her a friend.
"You're right," she quietly agreed with a sigh. She stared back at him, chuckling at how his nose had turned red in the cold.
"What?" he wondered, thinking her laugh sounding genuine this time.
She shook her head, not wanting him to know that she was looking at him that way. She couldn't afford to look at him that way. "I don't know what to say," she admitted, staring out to the park again to avoid his gaze. Perhaps because there was nothing to say. These feelings they'd developed for each other weren't part of anyone's plan. Bad timing just made it so there was nothing they could do about them without hurting people they also loved. On the one hand, being away from him made it easier - NYU made for a good distraction. But on the other, she would ostensibly always be friends with Lori and Rick, and she was terrified of what would happen if these feelings never went away.
"Come on," Rick gestured for her to start back inside ahead of him. "We'll get through this together."
Present day.
"Taste this."
Rick gave Michonne's proffered spoon a brief glance, making a face at the strange gooey white substance. "What is it?"
"It's called a cherimoya," she answered, licking her left fingers of the delicacy. "You'll like it."
"I'm okay," he declined with a chuckle, continuing with his own dessert of mango and yogurt.
"Taste it," she insisted, still waving the spoon in his face, hoping to entice him. "Please."
"It just… doesn't look like something I would enjoy," he tried to diplomatically say. "But thank you."
She gave their tablemates a knowing look before focusing on Rick again. She wrapped a 'friendly' arm around his neck - more of a headlock, in fact - and smiled at him sweetly. "Rick," she sang his name for the second time that day. "Come on."
He also looked across the table to Morgan and Jenny as he swallowed down his mango. "Y'all see how she does me?"
"I mean, you kinda owe me," she reminded him, taking the bite for herself. She started to dig into the delicious fruit for a fresh spoonful for him.
"I owe you for what?"
"For crashing into me earlier."
He opened his mouth to protest, but he didn't exactly have a leg to stand on. And with Shane and Andrea joining the table, he didn't want to give her fuel to bring up the fact that he also almost dropped her while giving her a piggyback ride on the way to dinner. "I think the crash was both our faults," he said, "but I'll grant you that because I feel bad about it."
"Yeah, because it was your fault," she mumbled, bringing the spoon to his lips for the second time. "Just taste it."
Rick's disgusted expression returned, but it was clear she wasn't going to let it go until he gave it a try, so he hesitantly took the bite. He was pleasantly surprised to find the custard-like substance somehow tasted like a combination of a banana, pear, and pineapple with vanilla undertones. In a word, it was delicious. "Shit," he said, making the five of them laugh.
"Right?" Michonne beamed as she carved out another few spoonfuls, doing her best to remove the giant black seeds before sending half of the fruit across the table. "You guys try it."
"What's it called again?" Rick asked, watching with envy as Jenny and Andrea took their bites. He wanted it all to himself now.
"Cherimoya," she repeated for him. "You won't be able to get it in the States very often, but when you can find it, buy it."
"My god," Andrea groaned, her mouth full of the fruit. "That is fantastic."
"It's sweet," Jenny agreed, frowning as she tried to detect all the different notes. "Not overbearing, though."
"All right, pass it on back," Rick interjected, reaching across the small table to retrieve Michonne's plate. He also took her spoon, scooping out another helping for himself, leaving Michonne to use her fingers.
"He always does this," she commented, shaking her head as she watched Rick devour her fruit. "Did I not say, 'Taste it'?"
"I do believe that's exactly what you said," Morgan confirmed.
"Rick, you oughta know by now that Michonne doesn't play about her food," Shane commented, also watching him practically inhale the fruit.
"Oh, I know all too well how she feels about food," he chuckled, taking a break to allow Michonne a few more bites. "It's how I know that if you don't eat fast, you don't eat."
Michonne laughed with her mouth full and bumped Rick's shoulder with her own. "That is such a lie."
"Is it?" he asked with a squint, gazing at her as she licked her fingers again. "Did you want your spoon back?"
"No, I don't want my spoon back," she repeated him mockingly. By then, they'd just about finished off the fruit; she was simply collecting the remnants, not wanting to waste any of it. "Here," she offered Rick the last bit, straight from her hand, not even thinking twice about it - and neither did he, it seemed - until she felt his lips on her fingers, his tongue gently licking the sweet fruit from them. It sobered her quite quickly, and made her dizzy all in the same breath. Suddenly, she wished she had more wine. "I'm... gonna go get a refill," she said, slowly rising from their table as she picked up her glass and empty plate. "Anybody want?"
Four of them raised their hands, while Shane added, "Can we get a refill on that cherimoya, too?"
"I'll see what I can do," she grinned, feeling a particular pep to her step as she walked away.
Rick couldn't help but watch her, as he had been all day in that little red bikini. She'd thrown on a sheer white sarong once the sun went down, but it didn't change much about the enticing view. Once she disappeared inside, his gaze returned to the table, finding his friends and dinner companions staring back at him. "What?" he asked, smiling nervously as he popped another cube of mango into his mouth.
"What's up, Rick?" Andrea grinned, nodding her head in the direction Michonne had just gone.
Rick furrowed his brow at the question, pretending not to know what she meant. "What's up with what?"
Morgan immediately noticed his unease and attempted to massage the question a bit. "We don't mean to pry, man. But people have been wonderin' if there's somethin' we should... know about you and Michonne."
Rick did his best to play it cool, continuing to shake his head, playing stupid. "I don't know what you mean."
"I mean the flirting and the piggyback rides and the eatin' food out of each other's hands," he described everything he'd observed that day alone.
"I mean… we're having fun," Rick shrugged, unsure what else to say about it. It was the truth, anyway. Even if there were a lot of latent and not-so-latent feelings attached to that. "That's what we're here for, isn't it?"
Shane took that opportunity to glance at Andrea, finding her unending interest in the subject amusing, if nothing else. But he knew Rick pretty damn well, and after also observing him with Michonne throughout the day, he thought his wife would be happy to know that she was probably right about the sparks that were flying between them. The thing was, they didn't even need the push from some outside force - it was already happening.