A/N: Oh man, you're all way too good to me! I expected maybe ten reviews on the last chapter, lmao. But of course, hearing from y'all made me like it more than I did - as per usual, when I'm not sure about something I put out, because you guys are awesome. By the way, the number of you that understood exactly where I was coming from regarding Jessie types versus Michonne was such a relief. Nwfanmega, sis, your review resonated so much with me. I can't tell you how many times I've walked into a restaurant WITH my husband, one of us asks for a table for two, and they'll stand there looking stupid, waiting for 'the other person in our party' to arrive or they'll ask if we're together. Bitch, you just saw us walk in together! We're standing side by side! My god. *insert crazy Kandi gif* *takes a deep breath* Anyway. Here's another chapter that's longer than I intended it to be. I tried to keep this one short-ish because I feel like the next one is gonna be endless, but if y'all like it, I love it, haha. Thank you so much, seriously.

Oh! To the guest that asked about Rick's job - I was definitely supposed to include that like 8 chapters ago, so I'll see if I can work that in somewhere, lmao. Thank you for bringing that up. And to the request for the deleted scene from Her, I'll reblog it on my Tumblr over the weekend! *runs away before y'all can read the chapter* - Ash

11 - Nothings Into Somethings

It was another early morning for Michonne and Carol as they bustled around the B&B's ample kitchen, endeavoring to the breakfast part of 'bed and breakfast.' They worked mostly in silence, having developed a natural rhythm with each other over the course of the week – with Michonne's regular staff gone for the holiday, they didn't have much choice in the matter. But Michonne couldn't help but think about how much she was going to miss Carol whenever she decided to go back to her regular life. And given the recent developments in her friendship, perhaps relationship, with Daryl, she imagined that would be soon.

She didn't say anything, though, not wanting to broach the subject until she absolutely had to. In fact, the thought of any of her friends leaving at the end of the week only saddened her. She'd stupidly gotten used to the sound of Andrea's laugh and Morgan's voice, the very idea that she could see Rick whenever she wanted to. She hated thinking about how they'd all be gone a week from then. So instead, she went about her duties, forcing it all out of her mind as she pushed a pan of croissants into the oven. The timer on the coffee sounded just as one of their guests came strolling through the front door. It was Jessie, back from a run on the beach, Michonne presumed seeing her attire and flushed face. "Good morning," she greeted her, smiling politely as she always did when acknowledging her. "I didn't think I'd see anyone up before the two of us."

Jessie sent a casual salutation Carol's way as she pulled out her earbuds. "Hey," she nodded, still a bit breathless from her workout. "Yeah, I usually try to get out by six and do an hour, but I was lazy today. Only got in about three miles."

Carol sighed exasperatedly at the notion of waking up just to work out every morning. "Jesus," she mumbled.

Michonne tried not to laugh, knowing what her friend was thinking. "While you're here, you should try swimming if you're comfortable with it," she recommended to her new acquaintance. "It's just as invigorating as running, but there's nothing quite like being in that water as the sun comes up."

"Oh," she replied, surprised by the suggestion, unsure why she hadn't thought of it herself. "Yeah, I guess I should try that. While I'm in paradise, huh?"

"Just an idea."

"I mean, Rick has gotten too lazy to run these days, so I might as well."

Michonne smirked at the mention of Rick's name, feeling her eagerness to talk about him, but decided against indulging her. It felt disingenuous when she knew more about their relationship than she did. "Well if you go, let me know what you think."

"I will," Jessie nodded, surveying the full kitchen as the two ladies worked. The origins of Michonne's establishment had been explained to her more than once by then, but it still awed her to see it for herself, watch it all in action. Sometimes, she felt like she couldn't even keep her home together, and here this woman had created an entire successful business on a whim. "Hey, can I help you guys with anything?" she wondered, realizing she was just standing there.

"I think we're okay," Carol answered over the sound of her knife chopping up pineapple. "You want some coffee? Or tea?"

"Oh, no, I don't wanna bother you."

"It's no bother," she insisted. "We were just about to sit down and have some."

"It's been our little routine once we get everything prepped," Michonne added, nodding for Jessie to take a seat at the table.

She followed the silent instructions, appreciative of the courtesy. She knew they were from Atlanta, so she shouldn't have been surprised by the southern hospitality that came with her stay there. "This is all so nice," she remarked as she sat down, knowing she was repeating herself from the day before. "It's been years since I've been… well, anywhere, really. But I don't know if I've ever been anywhere this beautiful."

"Well, if you stick with this group, they'll have you somewhere like this every other year," Carol informed her, bringing along the mugs and a small plate of leftover scones while Michonne followed with the coffee. "They're very serious about their vacations."

"Are you not included in that 'they'?" Jessie chuckled at the information.

"Typically, no."

"While Carol is technically just Shane's older sister, she was basically all of ours," Michonne interjected to clarify, "so naturally, she thought she was too good for us."

"Uh, more like I had a kid to raise," she corrected her friend, sending an appreciative smirk her way for attempting to sugarcoat it. "And I couldn't exactly afford to run off to Spain on a teacher's salary."

"And there lies my dilemma," Jessie agreed, smiling thankfully at Michonne as she poured her a cup. "I sure as hell can't afford any of this either."

Carol looked at her curiously, wondering how that was possible when she lived in the Grimes' affluent Sandy Springs neighborhood. "I thought you lived next door to Rick?"

Michonne shook her head at Carol's overtness, but Jessie didn't seem to mind as she quickly answered, "My husband pays for that house. Or rather, my ex-husband," she rolled her eyes. "He's a surgeon, and he was the sole earner while we were married, so. The child support arrangement doesn't suck."

Michonne's interest immediately piqued as she listened to Jessie speak of the same woes that would soon be ahead of her. She was tempted to ask details about her settlement, but she hesitated, figuring it wasn't her place.

"It just dawned on me that we're the three divorced ones in the bunch," Carol declared, raising her cup as Michonne took the seat beside her. "I think we just formed our own little club."

"First Wives Club?" Michonne chuckled, clinking mugs with her buddy. "I mean, minus the whole being left for younger women part." She then looked to Jessie, recognizing that might have been a premature statement. "Unless you…"

"Oh, no, nothing like that," she quickly shook her head, also raising a glass to the cause. "Just a terrible marriage."

Michonne and Carol looked at one another knowingly. "Ding, ding, ding," Carol proclaimed, finding a sad irony in their shared hellish experiences. "Looks like marrying a doctor wouldn't have done me as many favors as my grandmother thought."

Jessie's eyes lit up with recognition as she looked to Michonne. "Your husband was a doctor, too?"

"That's what I hear," she lightly scoffed. "Mainly because he couldn't go ten minutes without mentioning it to someone."

"Oh Jesus, tell me about it," she agreed, echoing her disdain. "Every reservation, every school function, nobody could ever just call him Pete. Had to be Dr. Anderson."

Michonne immediately thanked her lucky stars Mike never managed to take it quite that far. "I honestly started to think, you know maybe they teach them this in med school. How to steer every conversation into one about your profession."

"After sixteen years of countless work functions with Pete's colleagues, I've come to understand that it takes a special type of narcissist to become a doctor. Or a surgeon, at least."

"You might be onto something," she laughed, gulping down some of her coffee. "It would explain a lot."

"I think that's why I gravitated to Rick so quickly," Jessie went on, smiling to herself as she thought of her neighbor turned friend turned potentially more. "He's just good, you know? He's sweet."

Carol stared across the table at Jessie and her strange, wistful tone, wondering if she was misinterpreting it, or if she really had something beyond platonic going on with Rick.

"What am I saying, of course you guys know," she continued, chuckling nervously. "You certainly know him better than I do."

"Michonne does," Carol confirmed, taking a sip of her coffee. "Better than I do, I mean."

"You were Lori's best friend, right?" Jessie asked. As Michonne nodded, she shook her head as she sadly looked down at the glass table between them. "I can't even imagine what it's been like for you and Rick, losing her like that."

"We had our friends," she shrugged, forcing herself to smile. "We had each other, I guess."

She nodded this time, relieved to hear that Rick had someone. It made sense, given how close their group seemed, and from the pictures a couple of people had shown her at dinner the night before. How nice it must've been to have people like that in their lives. The more time she spent with them, the more she wanted to be a part of it all. She knew she could never share their history, but maybe she could add to it. She let out a small sigh before going on, figuring Michonne and Carol were probably two of few people that could help her with the issue seemingly preventing that. "So I don't know if it's because of Lori – maybe you guys can tell me if he was always this way – but Rick seems so… impenetrable," she tried to describe, hoping she wasn't offending his friends. "I don't know if that's the right word."

"Well what are you trying to penetrate?" Carol pressed, her eyebrows knitted over her piercing eyes.

"Well, you know," she chuckled, thinking she probably sounded stupid. "I dunno, maybe it's too soon. But I figured since he invited me here… he was at least thinking about dating. But every time I talk to him, it's like I'm just… talking to my neighbor."

Carol looked to Michonne, waiting for her to explain exactly why that was, but she just sat there stuffing her mouth with pastries, because she was undoubtedly too nice to tell her the truth. "Michonne, what do you think about that?" she decided to prod her.

She had to resist the urge to side-eye her friend, knowing exactly what she was doing. But if someone was going to burst Jessie's bubble, it needed to be Rick – he was the one that invited her there without explaining his intentions. Or lack thereof. She had her own baggage to take care of. "I think… it's hard for me to say. Rick and I have just always been close," she offered delicately. "But he's been through a lot, and maybe he doesn't know what he wants. Or how to say it." She shook her head, feeling like a terrible person for blatantly lying to this woman when she knew exactly what Rick wanted. "I dunno, I guess, just be patient with him. Handle him with care."

"Yeah," Jessie nodded. "Maybe I'm getting ahead of myself."

"So if you take the trip out of the equation," Carol started to ask, simply out of her own curiosity, "have there been any other signs of interest from Rick? Have you been on a date?"

"Not unless sitting on his living room floor at midnight helping him sew a Halloween costume counts," she chuckled awkwardly. "No."

"Have you kissed?"

Michonne kept bracing herself for an answer that would contradict everything Rick had told her about this woman. She wasn't sure why, because she always knew Rick to be honest with her, but for some reason, she kept waiting for the other shoe to drop with their situation. After so many years, it all just felt a little too good to be true, she supposed. But before Jessie could answer the question, her phone began to vibrate against the table, startling all three of them and she quickly excused herself, leaving her with her Carol. Who used that opportunity to pinch Michonne's bare arm. "Ouch," she hissed quietly. "What the hell, Carol?"

"I should be asking you that," she whispered back. "What are you doing?"

"What am I doing? I'm trying to mind my business, what are you doing?"

"I'm trying to make sure this stranger doesn't steal your boyfriend from right under your nose," she quipped. "Why wouldn't you tell her you two are interested in each other?"

"Because it's none of her business," she insisted, moving her chair away from Carol before she could assault her again. "And that's Rick's job."

"Oh, please."

"I would look crazy, petty, and mean if I sat here and said, 'Oh sorry, actually, Rick likes me. Enjoy your vacation.'" Michonne knew all too well that even if she was right, she would immediately turn into the villain of her own story.

"Well then I can tell her."

"If it means that much to you," she smirked, stuffing another bite of her scone into her mouth. "But Rick started this, he can finish it."

"When has Rick ever been one for confrontation?"

"You sound very judgmental right now, Carol."

"That's because I'm judging all three of you," she confirmed, standing from the table to resume her duties. "But fine, you can ruin everything if you want to."

Michonne rolled her eyes at her hyperbole, watching her leave the table just as Jessie returned from the foyer, finishing her call.

"All right, sweetie, I gotta go. I'll text you guys tonight, okay?" She reclaimed her seat, shaking her head at her younger son's inability to promptly end a call. "Bye bye, sweetie." She looked at Michonne apologetically, realizing she'd broken up their little club meeting. "I'm sorry about that. My kids…"

"No, don't apologize for taking care of them," she returned rather seriously. Given all her own internal battles with how to be a mother, it was something she was learning herself. Being a good mother, whatever that meant, wasn't something be sorry for. "Everything okay?"

"Oh. Yeah, they're fine. They're just… they're with their dad, so naturally, they call me every two hours for something."

"Naturally," Michonne chuckled. "They're teenagers, right?"

"Thirteen and sixteen," she nodded, stirring her coffee as she got comfortable in her seat again. "Though they act more like they're three and six."

She laughed, but thought to herself how Carl wasn't like that at all. Well, unless it came to Jessie, it seemed. Otherwise, he was much too mature for his age. "They probably just miss you."

"I like to think that," she smiled, her tone bordering on sarcastic, "but I think it's more they're not used to relying on their dad for anything."

"How long have you guys been divorced?" Michonne asked softly, betraying her own decision not to pry. "If you don't mind me asking."

"Not at all. I guess it's been a little over two years now," she nodded, avoiding Michonne's gaze. "The boys took it hard, but I just couldn't do it anymore. Not for them, and not to them."

"Well I can understand that," she assured her, her tone warm with empathy. "Do they see him often?" she went on, knowing she was being entirely too nosy. But none of her close friends were in a similar situation, and it was actually nice to have a candid discussion with someone who was. "Their dad, I mean."

"Whenever he decides they're worth his time," Jessie rolled her eyes. "I'm sure you know how it is with their schedules."

"Half the reason for our divorce, really," Michonne smiled emptily.

"But even so, I'm always encouraging their relationship. Nudging them to call him to help solve a problem for once; pushing him to come get them for the weekend." She shook her head at how much effort she was putting into something the three of them clearly weren't particularly interested in. "I know it's crazy, but I dunno. I think some of it is guilt on my part for giving them such a shitty father in the first place," she chuckled uneasily. "I can't afford therapy, so I have to self-diagnose."

Michonne gazed back at her, feeling tears stinging the back of her eyes, because she felt that very same emotion so acutely. Hearing someone else say it out loud... "You don't know how vindicated I feel right now," she laughed too, successfully holding back those tears. "I question myself every single day, wondering whether I'm helping or hurting my son."

Jessie smiled comfortingly, knowing all too well how she was feeling. "It sucks that there's no handbook for any of this."

"How Not To Fuck Up Your Kid."

"No fucking kidding," she laughed again, nodding at the fact that she'd unexpectedly found someone she immediately related to, and that was nice. "I probably am fucking them up somehow," she allowed as she absently picked at a scone she'd taken. "I just know I don't wanna be the reason they don't have a relationship with their dad."

"You're not scared of him hurting them?" Michonne frowned.

"Every day," Jessie was quick to admit. "And they'll probably find a way to blame me for it. But I'll also be there to pick up the pieces. And if it happens, and if we're lucky, maybe... they'll see their dad for what he is long before I was able to."

Michonne nodded thoughtfully, almost envying her for seeming so at peace with it all. For being confident in her decision. She hadn't reached that place yet, too scared of the thought of Andre being hurt by any of it. But maybe shielding him from Mike's shortcomings wasn't the best way to go about it. There was a fine line between protecting your kids and coddling them, and perhaps she was crossing it. She wasn't sure, but she appreciated Jessie for even giving her the thought. For giving her an option that didn't force her to be constantly cold and rigid toward the man she used to love. "Jessie, I can't even tell you how helpful this was," she hastened to say. She could hear the patter of someone's footsteps, probably Carol's, and she wanted to say it before they were interrupted. She wasn't sure if this would ever turn into a friendship – she doubted it, really – but it was nice to have an ally. "Thank you."

The eventful day went by much too quickly, as vacation days tended to do, with most of the group embarking on a bike tour of the island, followed by a round of golf and a relaxing late dinner at Carol's favorite restaurant. By midnight, Michonne found herself dozing off before even getting into her pajamas, only to be stirred awake by the soft ring and buzz of her phone against her nightstand. It was Rick, asking if she wanted to go for a late night swim, and she immediately got a second wind, enthusiastically agreeing. They'd already said their good nights after returning from dinner, but she hoped – she always hoped – once the kids were in bed, he would come by to hang out. She wrestled with the idea of going to him, but they'd just left each other an hour prior, and she couldn't think of a good excuse to see him again. Rick, on the other hand, was comfortable enough to know he didn't need one.

And thanks to that, ten minutes after his text, she had dropped off her sleeping son at his place, and the two of them continued downstairs in just their bathing suits, toting towels and beers and phones alike, relieved to find the space empty when they arrived. The ritzy infinity pool, overlooking the ocean and backlit by just a few strategically placed in-ground lights made for an unexpectedly romantic setting.

"How's the water?" Michonne wondered, observing Rick from behind as he took the first step in while she set down their belongings. She was quickly realizing that she had a strange affection for his naked back, often fixating on the way his muscles contracted when he moved. And that bowlegged gait didn't help matters. He was just sexy from behind. "Do I need to turn up the temperature?"

"No, it's perfect," he nodded, continuing to submerge himself. It was just the right match for the night air – warm, not hot. It was his turn to watch as she kicked off her sandals and sauntered around the perimeter to the pool steps. He innately bit his lip at the vision of her in a simple black bikini with its strapless bandeau top and Brazilian cut bottoms that left very little to the imagination. The way her ass jiggled a bit when she walked, the way her outie belly-button looked like an actual button, it all made him smile. And she was grinning too as she joined him, probably because she knew just how good she looked, and enjoyed that she was driving him a little crazy. "What is it?" he asked, already knowing the answer. "What's that smile?"

"I dunno. I always smile with you," she spoke quietly, gazing at him, his blue eyes twinkling like stars under the moonlight. "Don't I?"

"Yeah, I guess that's true," he granted, wading through waist-high water to meet her in the slightly deeper end. "Made the trip worth it all on its own."

She started to blush then, her entire body feeling hot despite the water that covered most of it; her smile turning bashful as she allowed Rick to back her against the pool wall. "How do you manage to give me butterflies every time you talk?"

"I dunno," he grinned, both happily and smugly. "I didn't know I did." His eyes danced around her face, realizing her smile did the same to him. "But I I get 'em from you anytime you do anything, so I think it's a fair exchange."

"Goddamn it," she chuckled in a whisper, his twang sounding like a favorite song to her ears. She felt that familiar flutter in her stomach as his hard body came into contact with hers, his arms pinning her in place as he gripped the pool's edge. Her body made the move before her mind could stop her, wrapping her long legs around his waist, bringing him closer. So close, there was barely any water between them. She licked her lips and stared at his, enjoying that he wasn't wasting any time here.

"I've been waiting two days to kiss you again," he confessed, his eyes flitting to her wettened mouth. Her plump lips had him practically salivating. "May I?"

She didn't need him to ask, because the answer was always yes, but she appreciated that he did. He was careful about pushing past those boundaries they'd created throughout their friendship. He was thoughtful. It was things like that that made her fall a little bit more in love with him every day they were together. And she was coming to terms with the fact that she was in love with this man. Whether it was 'still' or 'again,' she wasn't sure, but it was pure and simple truth at that moment.

Michonne answered him wordlessly by pulling him in for said kiss, her eyes closing as she let her lips cover his. He let out a quiet moan, surprised by her assertiveness, which only compelled her to deepen it, gently pushing her tongue into his hot mouth. She loved that he unabashedly expressed his pleasure audibly – something most men seemed hesitant about. She could only imagine what it would feel like to hear his moans against her ear during sex, breathing her name as he fucked her, his grunts with every thrust. Just the thought made her wet, and she was glad they were in water, keeping her sudden arousal a secret.

Rick wasn't quite so lucky, though, feeling his dick practically throbbing as it grew into an erection between Michonne's thighs. She would feel it soon, if she didn't already, but he didn't care, didn't stop. It only made it all the more intense for him as his tongue wrestled with hers, turning their kiss into a full make out, the sound of their lips smacking and sucking paired with that of the water gently slapping against their skin. He could feel her fingers in his hair, twirling in his curls like they belonged there. His hands were meanwhile planted on her hips, but as the seconds turned to minutes, he realized they were finding their way lower, slipping into her tiny bikini to feel her flesh, gently squeezing her backside the way he'd been wanting to for years now. He inhaled her, along with the smell of chlorine and her seemingly natural lavender scent, and exhaled himself each time their lips parted for gasps of air.

Michonne felt tinges of both disappointment and relief when his fingers left her panties and moved up her back, her tiny frame fitting in her hands like he'd been holding her forever. His lips were intoxicating, making her feel dizzy and giggly, and his hands on her body only intensified the feelings. But an unexpected nervousness came with that, she realized. And it was confusing to want something as much as she did and still be scared of it at the same time. It felt wrong and right, like a fantasy and reality all at once.

Without warning, Rick pulled back from the kiss, breathless as he gazed at Michonne. "You okay?" he wondered, attempting to study her face in the dim light.

She nodded, confused, licking her lips of the taste of him. "Why'd you stop?"

He shook his head, unsure what to say. She was the one who'd eased up first – he could feel it, her mind go elsewhere and then their kiss went with it. "Just thought maybe we should slow down," he offered as an excuse for them both, an awkward smile punctuating his sentence.

Michonne smiled too, recognizing that maybe, hopefully, he felt the same way she did. Apprehensive. She cupped his cheek with her wet hand, leaving him with another short kiss. She didn't want him to move, enjoying the way he felt between her legs. Or more specifically, the bulge in his trunks that didn't seem to be going away, pressed against her pussy. It wouldn't take much for them to just push her panties to the side and get things going. Just get it over with…

"I'm gonna get my beer," Rick announced, escaping her embrace. "You want yours?"

"I'm good," she shook her head, her eyes staying on him as he effortlessly climbed from the pool to grab his drink and then jump back in. "We should've brought some food with us," she called out to him as he took a moment to open the bottle.

"You and your food," he smirked, finding his way back to her. "I still don't know how you look like this when you love food as much as you do."

She smiled at the compliment, even if it was at the expense of making fun of her, too. "I still exercise, you know," she submitted, staring him up and down as he planted himself back in front of her. "Hell, I have to."

"Well I exercise too, and I don't look like you." He was fairly certain the muscles in her stomach had their own muscles. "Does your body know you're gonna be forty in a couple months?"

"Oh god," she giggled. "Stop."

It wasn't lost on him the way she would often turn timid when he gave her a compliment, especially a physical one. Avoiding his gaze, as though the very concept made her uneasy. "You can play shy if you want to," he teased, drinking from his beer between statements, "but I'm just stating facts."

"I'm not playing shy," she promised. She posted against the wall again, her elbows rested on the concrete to keep her upright, allowing Rick to stand between her floating legs. "I'm still getting used to the idea of you looking at me that way. And being able to freely look at you that way," she added. She held out her hand, wanting a sip of his drink.

"Can I ask you somethin'?" he asked, handing the mostly full bottle to her.

"Of course."

He paused before continuing, stealing a moment to contemplate whether he really wanted to put it out there. But he decided that he needed to, because it was bothering him. "Do you… still think of me as Lori's husband?"

She cocked her head to the side, wondering where he was going with this question. He'd been so reserved for the past couple of days – was this leading to the reason why? "I mean… yeah," she shrugged hesitantly. "Sometimes."

He nodded in response, figuring that would be her answer. He could feel it.

"You don't still see me as Mike's wife?"

"Well you are still his wife," he smiled a bit sarcastically as he accepted his beer back. "And even so, not really. It doesn't hold me back from you."

"Well yeah, that never held you back from me," she grinned playfully. She hooked her leg around the back of his thigh in an attempt to bring him closer to her. "Do you think I'm holding back?"

"I dunno," he said, thinking that maybe it was a silly thing to question when they were hanging out half naked in the middle of the night. "Maybe it's in my head."

She nodded back, accepting his answer as she watched him gulp down more of his drink, seemingly in the interest of avoiding her gaze. She didn't know what else to say, so she decided to change the subject. "So I had a chat with Jessie today," she divulged, her voice going quieter as if someone – Jessie, specifically – would somehow hear them.

Rick stared back at her, waiting for another wry joke about her being his girlfriend, but instead, she seemed to be waiting for him to respond. "Okay…"

"It was nice," she shrugged again. "We talked about divorce, and particularly, dealing with the endless battle that is co-parenting." She smiled when she felt his hand softly land on her leg, his eyes on her now, intently listening to her speak. "I didn't appreciate it until we spoke, but I really needed someone with that shared experience."

"Her husband was a doctor, too," he commented with realization.

"Right," Michonne nodded. "And she was talking about how she pushes her sons to have a relationship with their dad, and I think that's… I dunno, noble. Maybe I've been going about it all wrong trying to protect Andre from his terrible father."

Rick's eyebrows raised in surprise, recalling that just a week ago, she espoused the exact opposite stance. "You sure about this?"

"I'm not sure about anything," she retorted, shaking her head. She requested the beer again, grinning when he obliged. "But I owe it to him to try, right?"

"Yeah. Of course," Rick nodded. "Probably even to yourself."

"So. I've been thinking about… inviting Mike to come stay here with us," she carefully revealed, scanning his expression for his opinion before he could voice it. "But I don't know."

"What don't you know?" he wondered.

"I don't know… if it's a good idea. I don't want him to ruin the dynamic of the group," she frowned, stealing another gulp before handing it back. "But right now, he's just this weird outlier, and even if I didn't invite him or even necessarily want him here, he was a part of this. I mean, he's always gonna be in my life, so maybe it's better if I stop fighting it, you know?"

Rick let out a small sigh, understanding her dilemma, even if he wasn't sure that he agreed. Because even if he didn't, he couldn't say so. He'd be an asshole to opine that shouldn't let her son's father into his life. If it were he and Lori in the same situation, she would encourage it. "You should do what you think is best," he offered, still affectionately rubbing her leg. "No one can fault you for that."

"Oh, I'm sure someone will," she smirked. "But I think I'd just rather try too hard than not enough."

Rick smiled, although a bit gloomily, at her insight. If they'd done that twenty years ago, maybe they wouldn't be where they were now. "So is he staying with you and Andre?" he asked, the disappointment in his voice apparent.

"No," she was quick to assure him, standing from her position so that she could face him, look him in the eye. "This doesn't change anything with us, Rick."

"All right," he nodded, forcing himself to believe that.

"Daryl isn't using his villa anymore, apparently, so I'm gonna put him in there."

He quirked an eyebrow again, while his gaze flickered downward, fixated on her body as it inched its way closer to his. "Where is Daryl stayin'?"

"I'll give you one guess," she grinned, tickled by the fact that she had information no one else did. Or at least, she thought no one else did.

"Not with Carol." As she nodded in confirmation, his jaw went slack as he searched for words. "So they're…"

"They are." With a devilish grin still on her face, she locked her wet arm around his neck, her fingers combing through his curls as she waited for him to kiss her again. "I don't know if it's a secret, but I haven't told anyone."

"Except for me..."

"Except for you."

Rick smiled genuinely this time as her soft chest and hard stomach pressed against his for the second time that night. She felt so good, so perfect in his arms. He once again forced himself to ignore everything else on his mind as he backed her against the wall, sitting his near-empty bottle on the ground and hoisted her up. He stared into her eyes as he took her face into his hand, water dripping down both of them as he went in for the kiss. It was more eager than the first, fervid as he sucked at her impossibly soft lips like a vacuum, his tongue urgently lapping at hers as he squeezed the underside of her thighs.

Michonne felt her stomach doing backflips as they explored each other's mouths, Rick's hands fondling her lower body. She could feel her top slipping down as she shifted against the siding, while his fingers slid past the elastic of her bikini, grazing her slick slit. She moaned at the welcome surprise, her entire body clenching in response. She gently pulled at the hair at his nape as she felt him touch her clit, one finger deftly stroking it, another slipping inside her, while his lips left hers to suck at her neck. Was this really happening? Rick fingering her, on the verge of giving her an orgasm? Moments away from having sex with this man she'd known as a friend for twenty years? This was really happening. "Rick," she quietly purred, her short nails digging into his shoulder as he stroked her. "What if someone sees us?"

With a light groan, he pulled back, withdrawing his hand and his tongue, though she kept her legs locked around him. He took care not to look as she replaced her top, but he still spoke, softly, careful not to let his frustration get the best of him. "Is this a secret?" he asked. "I mean whatever 'this' is."

"No," she frowned, though she recognized she wasn't sure of that answer as it came out of her mouth. "I don't know."

"I don't mind if it is," he said, licking his lips as he caught her eye again. "But it'd be nice to know who we're hiding from."

"Just because I don't wanna fuck you in my pool, we're hiding now?"

"I don't know. That's why I'm asking."

She stared at him, baffled by his sudden change in tone. It'd been like that the past two days – feeling her up one minute and then bordering on cold the next. The energy between them was off. The chemistry seemed to be fading, and she wasn't sure why. "What is it, Rick? What's the problem?"

"You're asking me that?"

"Well you're the one being passive-aggressive here, so…"

"I'm just following your lead, Michonne." He chuckled as he backed away, as it was clear they wouldn't be ending things on a good note here. "You don't notice how you're the one that keeps finding reasons to put this on pause?" he pressed. "First we've got Mike, which… I get. Then last night, it's 'dinner', but Jessie shows up and you just… leave. Now it's somethin' else, and you tell me you're bringing Mike here, and I don't know what to do with all these mixed signals. Your words are sayin' one thing, but your actions are telling me somethin' different."

"I didn't realize…" She shook her head apologetically, staring at him, seeing the frustration written on his face. "I just – I'm trying to do this right, whatever that means. Whatever that entails." She exhaled sharply, acknowledging her own aggravation with it all. "I don't know what to do about Mike. I don't even know what to do about Jessie. Because whether you care or not, her feelings are wrapped up in this, too. And I just don't want anyone to get hurt."

"Yeah, you never do," he sighed beneath his breath. He flipped his hair out of his face and stared up at the compound, ready to just head back upstairs at that point.

"What was that?"

"I said you never do," he repeated himself more forcefully. "You never want anyone to get hurt, even if it means hurting yourself."

She chuckled sadly, thinking he was probably right about that. But she wasn't going to allow him to make her the bad guy for being a good person. "I'm not trying to play games with you, Rick. I asked you to bear with me."

"And I will," he promised, his tone softening. "But through what? You tell me about everyone else, how they're feeling, trying to protect everyone, but what about you, Michonne?" He didn't wait for an answer before continuing. "And I keep tryin' to pinpoint what's wrong. What's holding you back from me? But for the life of me, I don't know. Because I think you want this," he nodded. "I see you making the effort. I felt... somethin' – a lot of things – when we kissed. But then, it disappears," he gestured his hand waving. "It just fades outta nowhere, and maybe it's because you don't want this. Or maybe it's because you're scared. Maybe Mike came along and you realized what was really happening here. I don't know. Maybe you don't either. But I don't wanna spend what's left of our vacation pretending."

Michonne stared at him, at a bit of a loss for words. She wondered whether she was imagining things as raindrops began to fall, plopping into the pool around them, thick enough that she felt them hitting her already wet head. And all she could think was that it was comically fitting for this shitty moment where everything was falling apart. "Well," she finally spoke, wiping her face – rain substituting the tears that she refused to cry. "I'm sorry I dared to not have everything figured out. I believed you when you said we had our whole lives for this, and I guess that was my mistake." She nodded with the realization that maybe this didn't work out with them twenty years ago because it simply wasn't supposed to. "Noted."