A/N: Whew, okay! So sorry for that mini-hiatus, y'all. I definitely didn't plan for it, but I've been moving, and work life is hectic, and it was all just slightly more than I bargained for. But I'm back! I double apologize, because this chapter is long, and not that interesting, but it's setting some pieces as we move forward, and I thought it best to get them all done in one fell swoop. So try to enjoy these 8000+ words if you can? I'll do my best to not take so long with the next one. But I'm gonna shut up now, because this is a lot. Thanks, y'all! -Ashley
10 - Day Old Blues
"Just a second!" Carol declared, responding to the knocking at her front door. She let out a long yawn as she tightly tied her robe, expecting to find one of their guests with a question or request once she opened said door. Her blue stare narrowed at the sight of Michonne standing there instead, fully dressed and toting two coffee mugs, which instantly piqued Carol's suspicions. She must have wanted something. "What time is it?" she mumbled, turning back into her apartment; leaving the door open for her friend to follow.
"It's almost 7:30," Michonne revealed in a voice low enough to match the early hour. They settled in the kitchen, where Carol opted for a stool at the counter while she decided to stand. "I didn't mean to wake you. But I texted and you didn't answer, so…"
"Yeah, because I was asleep," she returned, sliding one of the coffee mugs her way. She took a sip, reveling in the chocolatey, caffeinated goodness before asking the important and obvious question. "What do you want?"
Michonne smiled, appreciating that she could always rely on Carol for her bluntness. "I… need you to make breakfast for everyone," she submitted carefully, knowing she was asking for a lot at the absolute last minute. "Please?"
"That's it?" Carol frowned.
"Yeah," she chuckled, relieved. "I was planning to do it myself, but I've got a Mike thing on my hands, and I need to do a pickup, so it would be a huge help to me."
Carol winced this time, noting her mention of the dreaded ex. And now that she'd brought it up, she could see where Michonne's light demeanor definitely seemed dimmed a bit – a feeling she knew all too well. "A Mike thing? What does that mean?"
"He showed up last night," she muttered, shaking her head.
"Here?" she questioned with wide eyes. "Are you serious?" She watched Michonne nod, though her disbelief didn't wane. "Why?"
"He says he wanted to see Andre," she shrugged. "He didn't call, he didn't mention that he was even thinking about coming. We were all half asleep and getting ready for bed and he came knocking at the door."
"Wow." Carol cocked her head to the side as she studied Michonne's sullen expression. "Was Andre happy to see him, at least?"
"He doesn't know yet," she sighed, taking a quick sip of her coffee. "He was already asleep, and I told Mike he had to stay somewhere else, so he's at the Four Seasons right now."
"You kicked him out?" she quietly cackled.
"Where am I gonna put him?"
Carol shrugged, figuring that true. Had it been her ex-husband, she likely would've done the same. "Well… Daryl isn't using his villa," she asserted, pursing her lips in an attempt to suppress her smile. "So if you need it…"
It was Michonne's turn to get wide-eyed and curious as she came to recognize that it was, in fact, almost 7:30, and Carol wasn't up and at 'em as she usually would've been. She glanced down the corridor of her villa, observing the closed master bedroom door at the end of the hallway. "Carol…"
She giggled amusedly at her confession, allowing her smile to say what her words wouldn't. "I'm divorced. I can do what I please."
"You absolutely can," Michonne agreed. "But you haven't said a peep about this, even when I asked you about it."
"Well I didn't know what it was gonna be at that point," she said, stealing another sip of her coffee. "It wasn't really anything until last night."
Michonne looked on, both impressed and envious of her friend. They both could've been sitting there smiling about getting laid, had it not been for Mike. "Well Merry Christmas to you," she teased.
Carol raised her mug in a show of her satisfaction. "You know, you're one to talk about someone keeping secrets," she observed with a raised eyebrow.
"If I had a secret to keep, you'd know it," she answered flatly.
"So I'm not supposed to comment on the fact that you left your kids at my place all night Saturday night? And then I don't see you at all yesterday..."
Michonne laughed, but was quick to deny any interesting happenings. "All we did was go to sleep, Carol."
"Naked, I'm sure."
"Jesus," she chuckled, trying not to spit out her coffee as she did. Carol had a uniquely crass way of making her laugh when she didn't want to, and she loved her for it. It made her wish they'd spent more time together in the past, but given their slight age differences, they didn't truly get to know one another until Lori's diagnosis brought them closer. "Whenever that does happen, I'm sure you'll be the first to figure it out."
"That's probably true," she granted with a knowing smirk. "But seriously. Is everything okay with you two? Now that you have a 'Mike thing'?"
"That's a good question." She picked up her emptied mug, solemnly wiping imaginary crumbs from the counter. She wanted to be surprised by the question, but it had been on her mind all night. "I think so."
Carol nodded, discerning that Michonne was ready to head out, and she rested her hand over her friend's before she could go. "Don't let him ruin this," she implored her, speaking from her own experience. "He can only do it if you let him."
Michonne smiled back somberly but appreciatively as she squeezed Carol's warm hand. "I'll see you later."
She left Carol's place quietly, unsure whether to feel better or worse about her current state of affairs. She supposed it was encouraging that Carol and Daryl had found their way to one another after all these years. Then again, she and Rick had a twenty-year head start, which didn't inspire much confidence. She tried to convince herself that her friends also had an almost-moment back in the day, perhaps on some occasion where Daryl spent the night at the Walshes'. She chuckled to herself, letting those thoughts leave her mind as she made her way to Rick's villa. She knew she probably should've sent him a text considering the early hour, but she wanted to see his face. For that matter, after the way things ended the night before, she wanted him to see hers.
So it was a relief when she knocked and he answered rather quickly, declaring he would be right there. But she nearly lost her breath when he opened the door - nothing but a towel wrapped around his slim hips, his wet curls slicked back, his tan skin dampened. She inhaled sharply, with nowhere to exhale all the indecent thoughts that were suddenly consuming her. "Shit," she whispered under her breath, her eyes scanning his waistline before smiling at him. "Hey."
"Good mornin'," he chuckled, noticing her stare. "This is a nice surprise."
"So is this," she retorted, frankly referring to his state of undress.
Unprepared for her response, a raised eyebrow accompanied a smirk as he opened the door to allow her inside. "You're in a better mood, I take it."
"I don't know if it's actually better, or if I'm just trying to make it so," she admitted, stepping into his temporary home. "They're asleep?" she asked, referring to Carl and Judith.
"Carl is," he nodded. "Judith is up, back at her movie-making."
Michonne smiled at the thought as she watched Rick saunter past her looking like morning sex, her gaze fixating on his bare back as she let out a small sigh. "So… do you feel like going for a ride?"
Rick looked back at her, surprised again as he found a plain white t-shirt in his dresser and pulled it on. "I feel like I can't say no to that."
"To the airport," she appended, grinning at what she knew were his own suggestive thoughts. "Sasha and her boyfriend already landed, but she said they could wait until the rest come in. They're gonna go get breakfast in the meantime."
"Is this boyfriend the actor guy from your going away party?"
"God no," she scoffed, leaning against the nearest wall as she tried not to watch him get dressed. But she couldn't help herself, eyeing him as he slipped on a pair of navy blue boardshorts, sans underwear she presumed, and then dropped his towel once they were comfortably in place. "He's a sergeant in the Army or something," she went on as she finished ogling him. "I only met him once on FaceTime. He was very… imposing."
"That's an unusual adjective," he chuckled.
"I don't know how else to describe him," she shrugged, smiling. "You'll see."
"Well yeah, I'd be glad to go for a ride," he nodded back. "Of course."
She nodded too, but couldn't help but notice that there seemed to be a strange energy between them that she couldn't quite put her finger on. It wasn't bad or even particularly noticeable, but certainly something there that wasn't the night before. Or perhaps something was missing that had been otherwise apparent the last few days. She wasn't entirely sure, but it was hard to ignore. And still, she was going to try and do just that. "So I told Mike he could see Andre today," she revealed as she crossed her arms over her chest. "They're gonna hang out, go to the beach while we have our cookout."
Rick turned back to her, seeing that she was visibly uncomfortable with the idea, rendering him at a loss for a response. "So that's really why he's here? To see Andre?"
"So he says," she replied, keeping her eyes on him and his unreadable expression. "I just don't know why he couldn't call first if that were the case."
"You think it's somethin' else?"
"I don't know…" She sighed because she was tired of thinking about it after spending most of her night with it weighing on her mind. "I wonder if he felt left out," she offered as a question. "All of us here without him..."
"We did used to do this kinda thing together," Rick agreed. "But he's the one who disappeared on us. On you."
She nodded in agreement, knowing that part better than anyone. "So you think it's a bad idea?"
It was Rick's turn to sigh as he turned from her to find his flip-flops sitting neatly in a corner of the room. "I don't think it matters what I think," he answered evenly. "I've never been in a situation like this, so all I can say is that you should do what's best for Andre. But... you already know that."
"Yeah, it's the figuring out what's best that's the problem," she glumly smiled.
"How does Andre feel about seeing him?"
She shook her head. "I'm about to go talk to him and find out."
"I'll meet you downstairs then?"
She nodded, calculating that it was probably close to 8:00 – Mike would be showing up soon. She only had a few minutes to get Andre ready to go and put on her game face. "Sounds good."
Rick's eyes followed her as she saw herself out, her kelly green sundress swaying with her hips, making him bite at his bottom lip. Once she was gone, he shuffled his way into the room his children were sharing, amused to find Judith still on the floor, engrossed in her mission, while Carl was at least half awake with his phone sitting on his chest. He left them with a quick set of instructions and then to their devices before heading off to the main kitchen, in search of some version of breakfast before he and Michonne hit the road. When he made it down there, he saw where Michonne had laid out the ingredients for another one of her elaborate meals, including an array of tropical fruits and the waffle iron set up near the stove. But with his limited time, he settled on a bowl of cereal, figuring Carl wouldn't mind, and he went to retrieve a bowl. He smiled to himself, thinking of how well he'd gotten to know this place in just a few short days. He was getting used to it; getting comfortable there, though he knew it likely wasn't the best idea. Getting attached to something he knew he couldn't have was a familiar and unwelcome feeling.
As he started to pour his cereal, he could hear the front doors open and close, and he moved to get a glimpse of the culprit. Despite knowing Mike was on his way, he was still surprised to see him; expecting, for some reason, to find Shane or Morgan instead of Michonne's husband walking toward him. "Hey," he greeted him coolly, quietly before going to resume his task. But he felt himself tense when Mike joined him.
"Good morning," Mike submitted, smirking to himself. He was amused that he somehow kept ending up in this kitchen - the only place Michonne would allow him, it seemed. All while Rick could apparently roam wherever he pleased, making himself at home all over the place. "You enjoying it here?" he ventured to ask, feeling like the silence was another person in the room with them.
"Yeah, it's nice," Rick nodded, turning back to Mike as he finished preparing his cereal. "Michonne built a hell of a place here."
"Yeah, she did," he agreed, his eyes instinctively surveying the lavish decor. The place screamed Michonne from top to bottom.
"Where are you flyin' in from?" Rick wondered in the interest of small talk. He knew he wouldn't have much to say, but it was a place to start.
"Oh, I came in from Atlanta," he confirmed with his own nod. "Just got back from Malaysia on Friday. And after spending the last couple months with so many sick kids… I just wanted to see my son," he intimated earnestly. "I didn't mean to disrupt anything, man."
Rick shrugged with one shoulder as he took in a spoonful of his Cinnamon Toast Crunch. "No one can blame you for that."
"Yeah, well, Michonne does."
"No, I think she just wanted you to call first."
Mike chuckled at his quick answer, understanding that Michonne had already told him her side of the story; there was no point in trying to argue his own. "I guess I'm not used to having to make an appointment to see my own family."
Rick had to stuff his mouth again to keep from saying something rude – something about how they weren't used to seeing him at all. "Well I'm glad you'll get to see Andre today," he offered instead.
Mike simply nodded again, lacking a response that also wouldn't come off as impolite. "So… this thing with you and Michonne," he started, unable to beat around the bush any longer. "What is it?"
"What is it?" Rick repeated, baffled more by his audacity than the actual inquiry.
"Is it serious? Or a vacation fling? Is it anything?"
Rick calmly set his bowl on the counter as he tried to think of a diplomatic response to the intrusive question. Especially when he didn't know the answer. He knew what he wanted it to be, but he wasn't sure what it actually was. "You ask Michonne about this?"
"I did. And she avoided the question."
"Then that's probably your answer," he gestured another shrug with his hand. "You know I'm not gonna stand here and contradict her."
"Yeah, I know you do everything she wants," Mike shot back, his tone dripping in sarcasm. "I guess I just figured if you were moving in on my family, maybe you'd be decent enough to at least tell me."
His jaw immediately and visibly clenched, and he wanted once again to utter something flippant, just so Mike was clear that he wasn't intimidated by him or his sudden presence. But of course he heard Andre, and subsequently, Michonne echoing in the nearby halls, and he decided to pull back, forcing the exchange to a standstill. "I dunno what to tell you."
Mike nodded, accepting that he wasn't going to get a straight answer about this from either of them, and would probably have to observe for himself. So he forced himself to put it on the backburner and turned his focus to the sound of his son. They noticed each other at the same time, their identical smiles claiming their faces as their eyes locked.
"Daddy!" Andre shouted, releasing his mother's grip to run for his father.
Michonne watched a bit wistfully as Mike stooped to the ground to and scooped up their son, squeezing him tightly in a sweet show of affection. She could tell they'd missed each other, which broke her heart and fixed it all at once.
"You ready to go to the beach?" Mike asked him, carefully setting him back on the floor as he gazed at him.
"I'm ready," Andre grinned, already thinking about what he would have for breakfast with his dad. But then his happy brown eyes began to scan the kitchen with confusion and he looked back at Rick. "Umm, where's Judith?"
"Oh. She's… upstairs with Carl," he answered, taken aback by his question. It just struck him that this would be the first time all week that Andre and Judith were separated. "She's gonna hang out here today while you go with your dad."
His expression immediately fell, his typically buoyant stare dimming into one of disappointment. "Well then I wanna stay here, too."
Rick looked at Mike sympathetically then, because he knew what it must have felt like to hear those words – his own kids would almost always rather do anything other than hang out with him. But he imagined it had to sting for Mike when he hadn't seen Andre in months.
Michonne was quick to step in, even though she didn't have much to say in Mike's defense. "Your dad came all the way here to see you," she said. She carefully gathered her dress as she knelt to the floor to speak to her son on his level. "Judith will be here when you get back."
"But why can't she come with us?"
"Well… she doesn't know your dad," she offered, her voice gentle as she took his hand into hers. "And he came to be with you."
"Mom," he sighed, resting his forehead against hers – something he often did in an attempt to sway her. "You said they were gonna leave soon. I wanna stay with Judith as much as I can."
She smiled, because she understood his sentiment all too well. "We still have a few days before they leave," she reminded him. "I promise you won't miss anything."
"How about I just take Judith too," Mike offered as a solution. He hated seeing his son so distraught over something so minor. "I know she doesn't know me, but I'm pretty good with kids."
Rick's squint responded to the suggestion before the words could even make it out of his mouth, but he was rather quick to decline. "That's all right," he said, then kneeled beside Michonne to talk to Andre. "You mean to tell me you aren't sick of Judith yet?"
Andre laughed at the question, correctly assuming it was meant to be a silly one. "No, of course not."
"You sure about that?" Rick prodded, smiling at his genuine answer. "I mean, she talks a lot. Even in her sleep."
"I know," he granted with another giggle, "but I like that. It's like having a sister."
"It is," Rick nodded, glancing at Michonne to make sure she didn't mind his interruption. "Now I didn't have a sister growin' up, but I do have a little brother. And when we were your age, as much fun as we had together, we also liked to have some time apart. I think we needed it," he added, studying Andre's face to gauge whether he was buying what he was selling. "And we would come home at the end of the day and we got to talk about all the things we did without each other. It brought us closer in a way."
Andre took a moment to consider that it could be nice not being right by Judith's side all day long; that they would have something new to talk about. But he also realized that being with his buddy wasn't the only thing he'd be missing out on. "But you're gonna have the cookout with me."
"We'll all still be right here when you get back," Michonne promised. "It's just a couple of hours."
"Why can't Daddy stay here with us?"
Michonne let out a quiet sigh, trying to think up a safe answer to the reason why she didn't want her ex hanging around. It was mostly for selfish reasons, she recognized, and maybe that wasn't fair to her son.
"He wants to be with you," Rick responded for her. "He came to see you; not all of us."
"He works so hard," Michonne appended, agreeing with Rick. "And when he has free time, he wants to spend it with you, Peanut."
Mike looked on, watching his son reluctantly nod in agreement to the arrangement, and the optics weren't lost on him – Michonne and Rick ostensibly parenting his son while he simply observed. Then again, at least he had an answer about what was going on between them. "C'mon, Dude," Mike interjected, holding out his hand for Andre. "I found a place where we can get some coconut rice pudding."
"Can we get some chocolate bread pudding too?" he asked, his face lighting up.
Mike chuckled at the way he loved food in much the same way his mother did. "We'll see."
"Please have him back by two," Michonne instructed as she and Rick stood at the same time. "I left his bag by the door, it's got sunscreen, a couple of snacks, water, and his favorite beach toys."
"Yes, ma'am," he smirked. "We'll see y'all later."
"Bye, Mommy," Andre waved. "Bye, Uncle Rick."
"Have fun," Rick called after them.
Michonne watched with a forced grin as they shuffled off toward the exit and she could only hope her kid would be okay without her for a few hours. Her smile turned genuine, though, when she felt Rick's hands on her shoulders, and she allowed herself to rest her cheek against him. "Thank you," she whispered. It didn't properly convey just how appreciative she was, but she needed to say something to acknowledge it. Him.
"You sure you don't wanna go with them," he questioned, feeling the tension in her back. He knew she wouldn't properly enjoy her day with her son gone.
"No," she immediately shook her head, frowning at the thought. "I have too much to do." She patted his hand, her thumb caressing his skin. "And I feel quite similarly to Andre – I want as much time with you as I can get."
His lips quirked into a small, proud smile, relieved to hear her say that out loud. He softly kissed her bare shoulder before replying, "Me, too."
"Not to mention, I have to meet your girlfriend…"
Rick's pleased expression immediately deflated and he shook his head at her insistence on referring to Jessie as such. He was glad she was finally arriving just so he could prove her theory wrong. "Very funny."
"I know," she grinned, gently squeezing his fingers before turning to face him. "We should go."
Michonne found herself rather unsurprised when she finally did meet the notorious Jessie Anderson - a bubbly, pretty-ish blonde that reminded her of the type of girl that often flocked to Rick (and Shane, for that matter) back when they were in college. The ones that would flag her down after class or at parties because they'd always see him with her. So they'd often begin their queries with something along the lines of, You guys are, like, really close, right? Which was why she couldn't help but notice when Jessie introduced Rick to her friend as "the guy I told you about." Making it clear that she had an interest in him beyond friendship. And why Rick's obliviousness to it all was both annoying and endearing. Some things just never changed.
But as the day went on, she was able to ignore it easily enough, finding Jessie to be kind and even a little bit charming, and both she and her friend Tara seemed genuinely appreciative of the trip. Perhaps she was too distracted by Andre's absence to pick up on what Carl disliked so much about her, but on a surface level, she was fine. Of course Michonne had to chuckle when Jessie randomly complimented her with, "God, you're gorgeous." As though the very notion took her by surprise. But again, she was used to it from Those Girls. They never deemed her a threat or an obstacle toward their goal of getting their guy, but rather a helping hand. She didn't notice the way Rick would look to her when he said something like, "Yeah, we've had a great week so far." Or the shy smiles and knowing glances she and Rick would exchange. Particularly when Tyreese joked that Rick looked so good, he must've found himself an island woman. Because no matter how pretty they liked to say she was, Michonne was invisible to girls like Jessie. It should've annoyed her - and maybe it did on some level - but mostly, it was just amusing.
"I hate her."
Michonne looked up from her phone to see her godson plopping into the lounge chair beside her, obviously vexed as he made his grand declaration. "Who do you hate?" she chuckled, already having an idea of the answer.
He nodded in the direction of the pool, where Jessie and Judith were spiritedly playing around, while Rick watched them from the sidelines with a drink in hand. "My new mom," he returned sarcastically, complete with an eyeroll.
"You're so dramatic," she shook her head.
The day was going fairly well, as far as she was concerned. After introductions and tours were rendered, the group congregated by the pool for their cookout, and as the clock headed toward 2:00, they were all either still eating or recovering from a plate of something. It was a smorgasbord of seafood, from snapper and cod to lobster, conch, and crayfish, along with fried plantains and curried squash, and every combination of rum and punch one could find. The music of George Michael thumped and hummed through the surround sound speakers, all of it making for a lively and undeniably summery vibe, despite the late December date. It'd been a nice welcome for their six new guests.
"When's Andre coming back?" Carl questioned, picking up his plate to rest in his lap. "I need someone to hang out with since Judith is apparently a traitor."
"Should be soon," she tersely remarked, checking the time on her phone for the third time in two minutes. It was 1:50, and she'd yet to receive any inkling that Mike was on his way.
"Everything okay?" he asked, observing how easily she became distracted.
"I'm fine." She forced it out of her mind for the umpteenth time and set her phone face down on her chair as she scanned the party. Sasha and Abraham playing cards with Carol and Jenny; Morgan and Daryl filling their plates for what had to be a third round of plantains. Rick caught her eye more than any of the others, which wasn't unusual, but it was his body language this time that gave her pause. He seemed withdrawn. Contemplative, perhaps; staring into the water instead of watching his daughter. He looked the way she'd been feeling for much of the day. "Gimme one of those," she gestured to Carl's plate, gratefully accepting a conch fritter from the proffered platter. "And leave your sister alone."
"Oh, I plan to," he quipped, peering in Judith's direction. "She went against the family."
Michonne chuckled too, tickled by his disdain for this seemingly harmless woman. "She's nice," she said in a plain reading of the situation. "She certainly treats you well, even when you're borderline rude to her-."
"When was I rude?" he frowned.
"When she asked you what you'd been up to this week, you let out the longest, ugliest sigh. I wanted to knock you upside the head."
"It's not like she actually cared about the answer," he shrugged. "She was more worried about waiting on my dad and Judith."
"You're a tough crowd, my friend," she chuckled, taking another bite of her small snack. "I can't fault her for wanting your dad to notice her."
"I gotta say, I don't like how nonchalant you are about this whole thing..."
Michonne sent him a quick glance from behind her sunglasses, her eyebrow furrowed, but she didn't respond. Instead, she picked up her phone, visibly bridling at the lack of texts or calls from one Michael Boykin.
"Are you sure everything's okay, Michonne?"
"I'm fine," she insisted, ignoring the obvious signs of her frustration – particularly how harshly she was tapping at her phone as she messaged Mike. "Just looking for my son."
Carl nodded, unsure whether he should say anything else, not wanting to annoy her with his over-the-top contempt for Jessie. He figured Michonne would be the one person who might share in it, but she clearly had her own things going on, so he figured he shouldn't to bother her. He instead continued to pick at his plate as he noticed his godfather coming to join them, hopefully to save the conversation. "Hey, Shane," he greeted him with a mouthful of food.
"Hey, man," he returned coolly, taking a small gulp of his drink. "Y'all all right over here?"
Carl nodded again in response as he moved over to give Shane some space to sit. "Hey, where'd Andrea go?" he wondered. "I haven't seen her since breakfast."
"Oh, she wasn't feeling so hot, so she's layin' down before dinner," he said, gesturing toward the guest rooms. He glanced at Michonne, seemingly unaware of his presence. "You mind if I talk to Michonne alone for a minute, man?"
"Oh. Yeah," Carl granted, already maneuvering out of his seat. "Sure."
Michonne looked over to the exchange, confused by the switch in companions, but happy to welcome a friend she hadn't seen much of in the last few days. "Hey, you," she grinned at him.
"You doin' okay?" he asked, noting the unyielding grip she had on her phone; the fact that it'd been that way for much of the day. She was distracted.
"Yeah, I'm okay," she granted with a shrug. "I'm just… observing. Getting a read on our new friends."
He chuckled to himself, nodding as his glance went in the direction of Sasha's boyfriend, and it was visually obvious he was telling another one of his animated stories. "Abraham is a trip, isn't he?"
"He is," she smiled, genuinely enjoying that about him. She found that he wasn't quite so imposing after hearing him speak, watching him interact with Sasha. He was hard, but soft for her, and funny in a crass, charismatic way. "Tara is too," she submitted. "Just… delightfully awkward."
He nodded again as he gulped down another swig of his pineapple juice and rum. He kept an eye on Rick, who'd been noticeably quiet all day long. And considering how light he'd been for the past few days, it was unfortunate to see him revert back to the melancholy dude of the past two years. The guy with no life outside of his kids and his work. It had been a welcome change to see him all carefree and happy there with Michonne. And Shane wasn't entirely sure of the reason for the change, but he could take a guess. "So listen," he quietly proclaimed, gently hitting her knee, "a little bird told me that Mike was in town."
Michonne stared at her friend, their eyes obviously locking despite their sunglasses covering them. She'd been vague with the group about where Andre was, but she figured the subject of Mike's presence would come up sooner or later. "Would that little bird's name happen to be Carol?" she smirked.
He offered a shrug and a small smile instead of an answer. "Is it a secret?"
"I don't know what it is," she admitted. "More than anything, I'm trying not to think about it."
Shane nodded thoughtfully, seeing that the subject was obviously uncomfortable for her. "Well we don't have to talk about it," he said. "But if he's botherin' you, you know you can let us know, right?"
"I do know that," she grinned appreciatively. "It's not like that, I don't think. I'm just…" Her words trailed off as she exhaled, hating that she was just out of control of her fucked up mood. "I'm frustrated."
"I can tell," he chuckled. "Relationships are hard, man. Even ones that are over."
"Especially ones that are over..."
He scoffed in agreement, feeling reluctant now to raise the question he'd really come over to ask. But as he watched her type out another text, presumably to Mike given the sigh that followed, he decided that he needed to. Because Rick probably wouldn't. "So with him being here," Shane started, his hesitance apparent, "you know I gotta ask what that means for my boy."
Her brow line furrowed again as she glanced at Rick, then back to Shane. "What's that supposed to mean?" she shook her head.
Shane laughed uneasily as he scratched at the nape of his shaved head. "Listen, I'm not sayin' I know what's goin' on, but I saw how he was a couple days ago, and it ain't how he is now. So I'm just askin'. If your focus is on Mike, you know, where's that leave Rick?"
Michonne grimaced once more, feeling like she'd been slapped by the question. She wanted to argue that her focus wasn't on Mike, but she knew it would've been a lie. Since he'd stepped into her house the night before, he was nearly all she'd thought about.
"I'm not tryin' to make you feel bad," he submitted softly, her silence making him feel guilty. "But it took him years to get over you the first time." He could feel her eyes on him as he spoke to something she probably thought he never knew about. And he didn't – not really. Not explicitly. But he could tell. In another life, he probably could've worked in law enforcement, because he'd put the clues together all on his own. The way Michonne was looking at him now only confirmed it. "All I'm askin' is that you don't do that to him again."
"Shane," she whispered, swallowing visibly as she processed the revelation. "Did Lori know?"
"I don't know," he confessed, comfortingly rubbing her knee. "I don't think so, but… she did know you and Rick better than anyone. Maybe there's a reason she asked you to look out for him and the kids."
She nodded, knowing there was nothing she could do about it now, even if she did. But the thought – one that used to cross her mind every now and then, back when it first went down – scared the hell out of her. She took a deep breath, attempting to quell all of her rampant thoughts and emotions. Her face and body relaxed just a little when her phone vibrated in her hand, Mike finally informing her that he was on his way with her kid. She turned to Shane, wiping the corners of her eyes before the tears could slip past her shades. "I can't make myself just get over this… intrusion into my life," she told him as honestly as she knew how. She was thankful the music was concealing their conversation from everyone else, though she imagined if Rick was paying her any attention, he was probably wondering what they were discussing. "Mike and I have too much history for me to act like this isn't happening," she went on. "But Rick is… he's a light for me. And I'm not gonna hurt him. Not if I can help it."
"All right," he nodded, accepting that answer. "I don't mean to be all in your business, but–"
"I'm pretty sure that's exactly what you meant," she interrupted him, grinning.
"Well… okay, yeah," he chuckled back. "I just - I wanna look out for him, because he's not gonna do it himself."
"I think you underestimate him," she nodded, "but I get it. I'm glad he has you."
"I hope he has you," he said.
She smiled again, appreciative of Shane's support, even if it came in the form of being a bit presumptuous and brash. But that was essentially Shane Walsh in a word or two. She capped off their conversation with a quiet comment that was meant for herself, but she didn't mind if he heard: "Me, too."
"Hey, stranger."
As Rick rounded the corner toward his villa, he was pleasantly surprised to find Michonne lounging in the hammock just outside his temporary home. She looked almost ethereal swaying in the white canvas, which made him smile. "Hey. What are you doin' out here?"
"I was waiting for you," she admitted, gesturing for him to come join her. "Today was so hectic, we only got a couple of minutes together. And after last night… I just wanted some time alone with you."
He nodded, happy to hear that that was something she'd thought about. He regretted that they only had a few minutes now before they were due to head to dinner. Until today, they'd managed to always find time for each other. "I missed you, too."
Beaming, she watched him kick off his shoes and slip into the hammock so that he was facing her, their bodies aligned in head-to-foot formation. She hadn't had the best day, what with all her Mike drama, but just a few seconds in Rick's presence and she was already feeling better. Lighter. "You tired?" she asked, staring as he closed his eyes with a sigh. The setting sun glowing through the open architecture made his skin look orange, which made her smile again.
"A little," he acknowledged, opening his eyes to gaze back at her. He noticed her bare leg pressed against his, prompting him to take her left foot and commence a massage. He grinned when she let out a small moan, her foot immediately melting at his touch. "It's been a long day."
"Mmm," she replied to the massage as much as the statement, agreeing with both. "Must be exhausting having Jessie fawn all over you while you pretend not to notice."
He smiled bashfully, but didn't take the bait. "More like time goes by slower when we're not together."
In reply, Michonne's foot flinched in his hand, her body reacting to his suave declaration before her mind could even unravel it. He'd deflected her comment and complimented her all in the same breath. It was impressive. "I'm sorry," she offered, knowing she was the main reason for their distance that day. "I was distracted."
"Not too much to notice me being fawned over," he smirked, repeating the phrase as if it were foreign to him. His hand continued up her leg, kneading her soft calf as he waited for her response.
She shrugged. "It was hard not to notice."
"Oh, I'm sure."
"Even your son did," she maintained, quietly giggling as his deft fingers tickled her skin. "He was kind of pissed about it, which was amusing."
"Well, he wouldn't be his mother's son if he didn't get irrationally angry about somethin' every now and then."
She grinned, although mainly to suppress a full laugh, even if she found his statement as true as it was funny. "You're terrible."
"What'd he say?"
"Nothing more than last time," she shook her head. Her body seemed to be moving on its own, slipping downward to give Rick further access to her leg. "He thinks she's putting on an act, and it bothers him."
"And what'd you think?" he wondered distractedly. He was more concentrated on Michonne's impossibly soft skin than anything anyone had to say about his neighbor.
"I told him she's... fine," she answered evenly; delicately. "I can see what he means, though. She spent much of the afternoon playing the role of your wife – or auditioning for it, at least. It's clear that she thinks more of this than you do." She gazed at him, waiting for a reaction that never came. "And I find it hard to believe you don't see that."
"I mean… I guess I do," he confessed, feeling timid about the very topic – and discussing it with Michonne, especially. "I think I was ignoring it because I just wasn't interested, but… I dunno. I haven't figured out what to say to her."
She rolled her eyes as his hands went moving up to the back of her knee, and she nearly lost her train of thought. At that moment, she wasn't particularly interested in talking about Jessie either. "Well you can always do what you used to do…"
Rick smirked again as he thought of how… active his social life became whenever he and Lori went through one of their breakups. "As in sleep with women I'm uninterested in to keep me from thinking about the one I wanna be with?"
"Rick…" she sighed, again, trying not to laugh. Failing this time. She realized that he was probably still tipsy from their little party, which always made him more brazen, and therefore funnier to her.
He smiled at her smile, the first genuine one he'd seen from her all day. He relished in it as he switched to her other leg, starting at her foot once more while she wriggled in response. "I'm kidding. I only did that once."
"Yeah, I bet," she shook her head, the corners of her lips still curled upward in amusement. "I was just suggesting that you tell her you're taken."
He gave her a sidelong glance, her statement stealing his focus from her lovely feet. "Am I?" he wondered as casually as he could.
She stared back, understanding what he was asking – he wanted to know what they were doing. Where were they now that Mike had come along. "You know I'm still with you," she said, turning serious. It was a question and an answer. "Right?"
"I do," he nodded, letting her foot momentarily settle in his lap. "I think I do," he added, his voice a hoarse whisper in his attempt to speak quietly. "I'm not in a rush, I just–"
"You wanna know," she nodded. "You deserve to know."
"You don't have to tell me anything you don't wanna tell me."
"I know." She attempted to sit up, but the impractical cloth seating did nothing to help her cause and only pushed them closer together, her legs landing over his thighs. Not that she minded. She preferred it, really. "But you've been… distant today. A little," she appended. "I don't think it's on purpose. Maybe you didn't even notice it. But I just don't want things to change between us."
"I'm not trying to be," he promised, resuming his leg and foot rub with his gentle touch stroking her knee. "It's just strange bein' in the middle of you and Mike."
"Mike's the one in the middle of us," she corrected him with a small, sad smile. Even if Mike was still technically her husband, he wasn't the person she wanted anymore. She was coming to terms with the fact that maybe he never really was. "I just want it to be over," she sighed, sitting back to enjoy her massage. To enjoy Rick.
She was tempted to keep the conversation going and tell him about her day – divulging what Shane said to her; what she'd discovered about Carol and Daryl; how admittedly happy Andre was after spending those few hours with his dad. She wanted to share all the major plot points covering the time they spent apart, just the way Rick had described to Andre. But she ultimately decided the silence was better. Rick's hands were doing the talking as they moved up to her thigh, making her entire body tingle as he squeezed at her toned muscles. She let out an involuntary, quiet moan when he slightly parted her legs to slip his hand between them and she wondered if – and maybe even hoped – he would go up farther.
"You okay?" he chuckled, noting the sated look on her face. But with her foot rested on his crotch, he wasn't entirely sure he wasn't asking himself. As their eyes locked, with cheeky smirks playing on each of their faces, his mind wandered – up her dress, for the most part. But he questioned whether she was daring him to go further, or was he simply seeing what he wanted? If he had to wonder, he knew he shouldn't. He wouldn't. But the heat he felt between her thighs had him desperate to slip his fingers past her panties; finally find out what it'd be like to make her moan, right there in the open corridor.
"We have dinner soon," she declared in a whisper, seeming to read his thoughts. She needed to remind herself of the same before she ended up spreading her legs wide open for him. She only hoped her attraction to him wasn't as obvious as it seemed. "Fuck you for continually setting these traps for me to just… fall into," she grinned, attempting to sit up again.
He chuckled in reply, mainly because he had no idea what she meant by that. "What trap did I set?"
"Aside from this? How about that obvious thirst trap this morning?" she recalled with raised eyebrows, although still amused by it. "You're shameless."
"Michonne, I don't even know what a 'thirst trap' is."
"It's when you do something seemingly innocent for the sake of attention," she explained pointedly. "Sexual attention."
"I see…"
"Like answering your door in nothing but a towel," she added, playfully staring him down.
Rick sat back with another laugh, rubbing his bearded chin with one hand, but kept the other rested on her bare leg. "That's not what I was doin'."
"Sure."
"And does this include when you 'adjust' your bikini while you're standing right in front of me?" he teased, recollecting the image of her doing exactly that just a couple of days prior. Not that he was complaining.
"Yeah, I'm gonna plead the fifth on that one," she giggled, making him laugh again, too. It was the first time all day that he seemed genuinely happy, she noticed. And just that slice of a moment made her shitty day worth it.
"Well don't you two look comfortable," an unrecognizable voice announced from behind Michonne. She turned to find Jessie – speaking of thirst – all dolled up and ready for dinner. "Hey," she greeted them with her dimpled smile.
"Hey," Rick answered for them both, easing his grip on Michonne only slightly.
"I was just coming to get you," she explained. "But Michonne, I'm glad you're here." She took a few steps back from the hammock to allow them a full view of her ensemble. "Is this okay for dinner?"
Michonne glanced her up and down, from her gold earrings to her little black dress, down to her golden flat sandals, punctuated with white toenails. "You look great," she nodded. "Yeah."
"Really?" she winced, hoping she was being honest. "I didn't wanna be overdressed."
"No such thing," Michonne quipped with a polite smile. Inwardly, she was chuckling at the fact that Jessie seemed oblivious to Rick's hand up her skirt. Still invisible. "I should actually go get ready myself," she added, beginning to maneuver out of the crowded hammock. She smiled again when she felt Rick gently squeeze her leg before letting her go. "I'll meet you guys downstairs?"
"Yeah, sure," Jessie replied for both of them.
Rick watched his friend leave, feeling only slightly less disappointed than he was the night before. It was like being doused with water just when the fire was getting started again. And he realized his dismay must've shown on his face, because he immediately noticed Jessie's concerned grimace.
"Everything okay?" she asked, her tone matching that expression. "I just realized – I mean, I hope I wasn't interrupting. I thought you guys were just... sitting here."
"You didn't interrupt," he quietly denied. That'd already happened several times over by now. In fact, with all the 'close, but not quite's, it was starting to feel like something was insistent on pulling them apart. Of course, maybe it was his own insecurity, lingering from twenty years ago; or maybe it was just a strange 24 hours and it would all be better in the morning; but he was starting to worry about whatever that something was.