Potential…
Michonne enters her office and hands Aaron a salted caramel mocha frappucino. "What's this?"
"An over indulgent cup of caffeine," she tilts her head in confusion.
"Is this a polite way of telling me I am not getting your order right?" he asks nervously.
"Wow, this is me showing you I appreciate what you do for our team. Speaking of which, please schedule time this afternoon for the three of us to meet regarding safety and emergency procedures."
"Three…
"You, me and Carl," she clarifies.
Sasha greets Beth who is smiling way too hard for a Wednesday morning. When she opens her office door she realizes why. A new bouquet sits on top of her file cabinet. She retrieves the envelope, reads the card and sends a text: Thank you and be safe.
His response is immediate: I hope this makes you smile with a picture of his bruise attached. She giggles and shakes her head. They are going to be okay.
In a supply closet three doors down from the Paralegal Unit Maggie is driving Glenn insane with a double hand job worthy of an Olympic medal. Between the grip strength, swirling thumb at the tip and simultaneous ball stroke and tugging action his eyes have crossed and he is begging for mercy. "We have a meeting-sweet Jesus," he pants.
"Did you make me grab my ankles so you could suck my clit-did you?" she whispers with her mouth hot on his ear.
"Yeess-"
"What did I ask for?"
"My dick…deep dicking," he pants sweating and gripping the sides of the storage shelf in front of him.
"Now, who does this dick belong to?"
"Maggie, it belongs to Maggie's," he exhales.
"Do you like to be punished?"
"Yes, dear Lord yes, I do."
She bites his earlobe, smacks his balls and gives on long lasting stroke using every single digit of her hand. His knees go weak as she releasing him. Maggie pulls herself together and calls over her shoulder, "Don't be late."
They met one year ago at the Sheriff Department Evidence Room. She was verifying evidence for an upcoming case and he was logging in forensic files. An innocent lunch, escalated to a flirty happy hour, which lead to a date and a movie make out session in the balcony section which evolved to a routine scheduled Netflix and Chill. They both were ready to go public, but too scared to ask the other.
Maggie was seated in Michonne's office reviewing previous case law on chain of evidence when Glenn joined them. His shirt was partially sticking out of his fly and his face was dewy from sweat. She rolled her eyes and Michonne giggled into her hand.
Sasha is meeting with her team and learning a tremendous amount about barriers to their investigations. The leading frustration: cameras. 52% of their investigations would be enhanced by video footage. Either the street cameras are broken or the video is not archived correctly. "How long has this been unresolved?"
"At least three years ma'am," a voice responds from the left side of the room.
"What about footage from body cameras?" No one speaks. "Has anyone asked?" Still silence. "This is our new top priority."
Across town at the Sheriff Department Rick and Daryl are sitting down with Shane. "I 'preciate you guys working with me."
"No problem," delivered in unison.
Daryl begins, "So do you have all your documents?"
"Right here," Shane places a single folder on the table.
"Alright, step one is make a complete set of all documents for at least three people. Color code key witness or victim statement or evidence."
"I can make that happen."
Rick picks up the conversation, "Step two is to only talk about the case. Answer the questions with objective facts. Keep your eyes fixed on the individual speaking. Do not offer personal information or request any."
"What about outside of work? Like the Mixer?"
Rick and Daryl are torn and silent. They are both prepared to claim their women before God, Lucifer and the whole damn town. "We'll, um, get some information from Human Resources," Rick manages to offer.
"Cool, thanks again."
Aaron and Carl are waiting for Michonne to arrive. The table is loaded with binders, pamphlets, blue prints and maps. "Whoa, what is all of this?"
"All safety procedure and emergency drill information available. None is available on a digital platform," Carl responds.
"Is this normal?" Aaron inquires sifting through documents.
"For Kings' County," is Carl's deadpanned response.
"Should this be normal?" Michonne cocks her head toward Carl.
"Not in the least," Carl engages rapidly. He presents statistics, references current research and recent grant opportunities. "With the high profile nature and media saturation of mass shootings more and more cities and towns are upgrading their systems, plans, and protocols."
"Aaron, how has our office managed the issue in the past? Policy papers, press releases, task force? He shrugs.
Michonne looks from one to the other, "Well?"
"Give me two weeks," Carl states confidently.
"Spoken like a neophyte. Permits, requests for records take that long alone," Aaron interject. "Give us a month."
"Three weeks," Carl pushes back.
Michonne smirks, "We reconvene in two weeks to determine next steps-deal?"
"Deal," they reply in unison.
It is Thursday morning and Sasha enters the lobby, head down digging through her purse for her identification badge. She did not sleep well. "Ms. Williams, would you like for me to follow you up?"
She glances up and shakes her head back and forth slowly. This man... "Please." As they make their way to the elevator she hears the whispers, notices the wishful eyes of some of the women and men she passes. Dale follows behind balancing a vibrant orange arrangement of Calla Lilly mixed with lush green foliage. When they reach her reception area she gestures to the coffee table. "Thank you."
"I have been married a long time. For what it's worth, I know love, remorse and devotion when I see it," he chuckles softly. Tilting her head, suddenly needing the reassurance of her decision to forgive and move forward. "Trust me he's all in and then some. In fact, I plan to keep his strategy on file for my next screw up or wooing whichever comes first." They laugh.
"Enjoy your day Dale."
Sitting at her desk waiting for her computer screen to come to life Sasha reads his latest message. She smirks and pulls out her phone placing a food order and moves forward on her 'things to tackle' list for the day.
"I'm telling you our office is a floral shop. See for yourself," Beth gestures through the door followed by a gaggle of assistants, paralegals and court house staff. Soon the volume of their swooning reaches the ears of the office holder. The inner door swings open harshly.
"Beth, is there a meeting missing from my calendar?" Every person in the room freezes.
"No ma'am. I was telling Lori at lunch about…"Beth prattles clueless to the hole she is digging deeper.
"Ladies and gentlemen I am sure the citizens of Kings' County would much prefer we use our time in pursuit of justice. Beth, my office," Sasha crosses her arms across her chest as her eyes connect to every individual in the room.
Beth enters her boss' office rapidly blinking her confused eyes. Sasha inhales calmly, "This cannot happen again. We have a serious responsibility to investigate to maintain the safety and security of individuals and information. How can our colleagues and community trust our integrity, our ability to do our job if we engage in frivolous behavior and gossip?" she questions with both brows raised.
Beth head drops in shame. She mumbles, "I'm sorry."
"I hope this is an isolated incident," Sasha allows the mild threat to hang in the air between them. The young assistant can only nod up and down rapidly without looking up beyond her lap. "Very well, please return to your desk. We have a full day. When Ms. Anthony and Ms. Greene arrive show them in to my office."
"Ma'am they are not on your calendar," Beth states firmly.
"Beth, show them in."
Two hours later the door opens with Maggie and Michonne sauntering through placing a 'to go' container filled with smoothies on her desk. They fold themselves into the chairs facing her after removing their shoes.
"Start at the beginning," Maggie leans forward retrieving her cup.
"No detail is too small," Michonne eyes sweep the office and all the floral additions, "although something tells me small isn't in your vocabulary anymore." She and Maggie share a knowing cackle.
"We met by accident-literally. I drove in from Macon, Georgia for my transfer interview in Kings' County. Michonne had called about an opportunity to make some 'Black Girl Magic' and I had jumped at the chance. Then bam, I was stranded in the middle of the woods where I am confident they filmed 'Deliverance' without cell service, a flat tire and no spare. The lack of spare was Bob's third strike. That is where he found me. My sweet, adorable, heartbreaking, tender- Daryl. I was leaning against a tree contemplating climbing the damn thing for cell service when he appeared like some stealth Davy Crockett. He had varmints: squirrels, racoons, rabbits, possums. Is that even legal? Aren't they endangered or something?" The Girls are doubled over in laughter.
Flash Back
"How long you been out here?
"Excuse me. Is this private property?" I respond defiantly.
"Nah-public as it gets but not for someone like you," peering at me with squinting eyes.
Oh, hell to the no. Let me call all the ancestors 'cause it looks like I am fighting the Klan today. "I beg your pardon?" glaring with fire in my eyes.
"Sorry, I didn't mean that the way it sounded, I swear. You just too pretty to be out here with no protection is all," he managed to mumble out without looking up.
"I'm lost with a flat tire and no spare," the voice that comes out of my mouth is so small and tender I have to wonder if I'm possessed.
"I could maybe take you back to town over to Olivia and Tara's Auto Shop. They would take care of everything."
"Thanks, returning to town and getting the tire fixed will help so much. My name is Sasha."
"Sasha, do you mind, um, riding on the back of my bike. I have an extra helmet. It would be quicker. The name is Daryl.
"Sure, that sounds really nice."
"Wait here and if anyone shows up you tell 'em Dixon will be back."
Every fiber of my being just wants to hold him and stroke his hair until the roar of his bike and the visual of him in that leather jacket changes my mind. Now I just want to bite his ass.
End Flash Back
"Let me get back to the stack of motions on my desk," Maggie raises her hand above her head.
"I'm off to the court house. You should see how excited Carl is for his first visit," Michonne smiles warmly.
The Department is in the midst of its normal late afternoon shift change de-briefing. The members of the graveyard shift take seats in the front while the morning and swing shifts fill in the back rows. Daryl slouches in a chair in the back row mindlessly tapping a pencil against the table. The door opens and someone from the right side call out, "How did you get back here?" The whole room except Daryl shifts their focus to the stranger in the doorway.
"No one was up front and I have a meal delivery from 'Island Pantry' for…" He doesn't get to finish before Daryl is shoving a large tip in his hand and snatching the box from him. Most of room returns to business as usual while a small group watches in fascination as Daryl devours a salmon and mango salad on a bed of spring greens with a vinaigrette dressing. A voice from the left teases to the amusement of the room, "That don't look like squirrel." Daryl gives the room the finger while inhaling Sasha's favorite meal.
Carl can't decide what he is most excited about riding in Michonne's car or meeting in chambers with Judge Blake.
"Okay, prepare me for chambers, Michonne requests while backing out of her parking space. She knew the case inside out but she enjoyed his mind at work. His youth allowed him to see options unrecognizable to the trained eye.
"First, the case is pretty vanilla so I have to question why we were called to chambers. No technicalities with chain of evidence, interrogation and witness interviews are consistent with testimonies given in court, standard jury selection with only one challenge by the defense. So I looked at Constitutional issues and everything complied with existing practice. The only exception might be the 4th Amendment but the ruling handed done by the 9th Circuit on Monday supports the prosecution by our office."
The car comes to a slow rolling stop at the red light and the hairs on the back of Michonne's neck stand at attention. "Carl, listen to me. I am going to do everything I can to get you in that room, but if I can't I want you to 'ear hustle' do you understand? Now send all your research to my phone." Her tone is deadly.
He knows something is wrong but he doesn't understand and he has no idea why but he complies with her request. Did he do or say something wrong?
As they make their way through the lobby, into the elevator and down the third floor hallway she doesn't speak until they reach the reception area. "Gertrude, so lovely to see you again this is my intern Carl," Michonne gushes, "I was hoping to bring him to chambers today. We want to encourage our next Justice Kennedy or Roberts."
Instinctively Carl plays his role by standing straighter and smiling brightly. "Of course we do dear. He could be our next Judge Blake. Please go in I'm sure he is ready for you."
Judge Black stands as they enter the room, "ADA Anthony you are a sight for these tired eyes." Michonne doesn't respond. His eyes shift off her body, "You brought company?"
"Judge Blake, this is my intern Carl. He was so eager to see a legal mind at work I included him. I was confident he could learn so much from your request to see me in your chambers," she provides with a polite even smile.
"Of course, please be seated. So, I don't think either one of us would want the attention an appeal would bring."
"Excuse me but shouldn't we wait for the defense counsel?"
"Actually, I thought we could reach an understanding or agreement that is mutually beneficial," licking his lips slowly.
"Why would we need to do that? Has the defense filed a motion or issued a challenge? If not, the ethics of this meeting risk the integrity of both our offices. Thus, I must recue myself but I do thank you for calling my office to request this meeting."
Michonne and Carl stand sharply and exit without a single work spoken between them. They return to the privacy of her car and Michonne leans back and exhales. "I recorded the meeting…already sent it to both our e-mail accounts and will archive it to our desktops once we get back," Carl delivers in an icy tone.
"I told you I was getting the better end of this deal. Now, direct me to the best dessert in town."
"Easy that is Ms. Eva's Café."
Only minutes later they walked through the door of the town hot spot. Michonne glided through the streets of Kings' County at a speed barely close to legal. She takes in the scene: students with laptops and headphones, officers on meal break, families, and co-workers. The Café was boisterous, warm and welcoming. At the center of it all Ms. Eva-tall, regal, effortlessly elegant and taking no prisoners-she was a force.
"Welcome, squeeze in where you can," she commands from behind the counter. We grab a booth, Michonne scrolls through her phone and then I see her sitting alone at the counter-Justice. She is never alone.
"Owe!" I must have stared awhile because Michonne kicked me under the table.
"What's her name?"
"Justice," I exhale with a resigned sigh.
Michonne tosses her phone in her purse and rests her cheek on her fisted hand cocks her brow and I confess like a sinner in church. "She in my statistics and Advanced Placement English classes and I'm barely keeping up because she is the most brilliant girl in the world. She understands Morrison and Twain like she was with them while they wrote their damn books. And when she goes all alpha student making connections to current events, talking about thesis statements and rhetorical devices you question who put you in the class.
Plus, look at her. Most days her hair is in a tight bun, but look at it now. It is like a wild mane of long silky nutmeg waves against all that caramel mocha skin. I realize I am getting carried away so I rip my eyes from her and focus on Michonne-big mistake. She has both hands over her heart and I know it's coming so I let my head fall to the table.
"Carl, on behalf of nerdy girls every where you are the sweetest thing ever to walk the halls of a high school," she swoons.
"Please stop…I beg you…you're ruining your image…don't do this," I mumble against the table. I'm saved when Ms. Eva approaches the table.
"Carl, I know you want my Special Dark Chocolate Pudding Cake but I don't know who you're with. Wait? Are you the new librarian from over at the community college or the new DA that kicked Shane's ragged ass?"
"The latter, it's assistant district attorney, but please, Michonne is fine," laughing and extending her hand.
"All right now everybody act right we have important company-new ADA," she announces to the entire Café. People look up, some look over, but Justice spins and focuses with laser precision on the woman.
"What can I get for you?" retrieving her pad.
"What do you recommend?"
She looks Michonne over, "Peach cobbler with French vanilla ice cream."
Michonne's eyes dance with delight, "I can't wait."
Before Ms. Eva returns to the counter Justice bolts from her stool and plants herself in front of the table. "I know this is rude but my name is Justice Washington and I may not get another opportunity. Our group is doing research on the inter-sectional dynamics of race and gender and if we could interview you-it would be everything. First, a primary source to enhance the abstract theory, but personally as we navigate our roles as change maker we could learn so much from you," all delivered in a single breath.
Michonne throws her head back and laughs in utter glee. Carl picked a winner. "First, breathe. Second, my intern Carl is going to help you get your things so you can join us." Michonne turns and smirks at Carl.
"Seriously?!" Justice responds with wide eyes. She is back at the counter, gathering books before Carl can slide out of booth. He approaches from behind leans forward a fraction of an inch and smells her hair-coconut and mango.
"I can carry your laptop and your bag," he manages to deliver evenly.
"I'm not a damsel in distress."
"No, far from it but if I help you get more time with her and trust me-you want the time."
There is respect in his tone and it makes Justice pause and really look at him. She hands her things over and heads back to the table sliding into the booth across from Michonne. Carl debates as he approaches the table and by the time he arrives he's made his decision. He places her things next to her and sits next to Michonne.
Eventually the safety and comfort of being on Michonne's side gives him the confidence to participate in the discussion. He shares his opinion on the role of women in the Black Panther series versus other series when he realizes they are both looking at him.
"Wow Carl. You are more than shaggy hair and a hoodie. I will have to alert the 'Geek Squad'."
"What is 'Geek Squad'," Michonne questions mischievously.
"Oh, those are my Girls," she offers with a shrug. "Sophia, Carl's cousin, has clearly been holding out on us. Keeping Carl to herself." There is a honk and she turns toward the window. "That's my mom," she informs while sliding out of the booth. "This has been the best day ever. Thank you ADA Anthony. See ya' Carl."
Later that evening in the privacy of her room Justice is captivating her friends over Skype re-telling her afternoon with ADA Anthony and Carl. Enid interjects, "So Carl's a feminist and Sophia is selfish." They laugh.
"No, he doesn't have a lot to say."
"In my statistics class he consistently scores in the top 5. Do you think he has something to say about that?"
"Hold up Chica, if you would just…" America can't finish.
"We love you, your mathematical mind and we will cheer inappropriately when you accept the Nobel Prize in Oslo," Sophia offer with a smile.
Enid picks up, "But teaching is not your gift and its nothing to be ashamed of-really."
"Fine, what about fixing Rousey?" America huffs in response. They all sigh. "Ask Noah already," they reply in unison.
"How, he just stares and walks away. He thinks I'm weird."
"I'll ask. He will be with Carl at some point."
Rick is exiting his room, towel drying his hair sweats perched precariously on hips and a t-shirt thrown over his shoulder when he hears the banging-Carl. "Boy, didn't I tell you…"
"Michonne is in trouble!" he shouts while shoving a bag of food into Rick's chest.
Rick turns slowly and takes a full look at Carl. His clenched fists and the fire in his eyes spell trouble. "Sit, take a breath, count to ten and start talking," Rick commands. He pulls the shirt over his head and plants himself in the chair across from Carl. He needs the facts to determine the level of danger.
"Play the recording again," he requests in a voice barely above a whisper laced with white hot rage. Rick closes his eyes and listens. He is proud of her ability to fight her way out of the situation using her mental acuity alone but that won't always be enough.
"Uncle Rick, he could…I mean if she's alone…and I don't know what to do or who to call. He's a judge! I was walking around trying to figure it all out before I came here. She wouldn't talk about it after. I tried but she said she could handle it and I should help by focusing on school."
"She's right but so are you. We will keep her safe. Get your stuff so I can take you home." Rick is up and off his chair crossing to the hall closet to retrieve his cross trainers and navy KCSD hoodie.
Rosita and Michonne are at the gym spotting each other with the body bag. Rosita knows something is wrong because Michonne has not said more than 10 words all night. They are switching positions as a group of guys stroll by leering. Rosita rolls her eyes hoping they take the hint. Unfortunately, one of them is clueless.
"Listen long, lean and luscious when you ready to spar I'll be over on the mats waiting." He reaches out to touch her arm but to his surprise Michonne grabs his hand, twists his thumb and applies enough force to put him on his knees.
"Say one more word and I will break your arm off and beat you with it. Do you understand?" delivered in a voice cold, calm and deadly. The gym is uncharacteristically quiet and no one is moving. She releases him walks over snatches her bag from the storage cube and storms out the door.
Rick dropped Carl off and heads home to call Michonne. He is waiting to make a right turn when she blows past him driving at the speed of light. He reaches down places the emergency siren on the dash and follows.
She grips the steering wheel physically and mentally willing body and mind to not fall apart until she is safely behind closed doors surrounded by her things. Almost there she chants over and over again. Then she sees the lights through the back windshield of her car. Michonne jerks the car over to the shoulder of the road; yanks open the glove box to grab all the necessary documents before opening the window, shoving her left arm out allowing the papers to flap against each other in the night air. She brings her right hand to her face and rests the back of it across her eyes. You can survive this too. She listens to the crunch of the gravel under the officer's shoes as they approach.
Rick uses both hands to cocoon her left hand and place it back through the window and into her lap. She knows that touch. She slowly slides her right hand from her eyes and turns her head to the left. He steps back, opens her car door and squats down besides her resting both hands gently on her left thigh.
When she sees the concern and tenderness swirling in his blue eyes her resolve breaks. Michonne turns her body into him and he holds her up. She doesn't feel like she is falling down physically or emotionally. Rick Grimes is holding her together. He creates a safe place within his arms for her to release every moment of stress and disrespect she absorbed today. "Do you want to go home?"
"No," she mumbles against his chest.
"We can sit in the car?" She continues to shake her head back and forth mumbling no. He's running out of options to offer. "We can cross the street sit against the tree or on the park bench?"
"Tree."
"Okay Gorgeous, you go ahead I will lock up the car." He takes the crumpled papers and places them on the passenger seat before standing with her and watches as she crosses safely. He pulls her keys from the ignition and secures the vehicle before jogging over. She stands with her back to the tree staring into the darkness.
"First, arms up," he playfully commands. He pulls his hoodie off and places it over her head as she pushes her arms through the sleeves. He reverses their position so she can lean into him and he can keep the rough bark away from her. He rubs her back with slow gently strokes.
"I'm tired. I spend all day holding the office together, moving cases forward, taking care of victims and staff…I'm grateful…I wanted this job, but…"she doesn't finish because he knows.
"Michonne, I will always be right here waiting when you want or need to lay your troubles down. Whenever, wherever. Do you understand?" he kisses her exposed temple with all the tenderness he owns.
"Officer Grimes, thank you for abusing your power and pulling me over." He laughs until tears form in the corners of his eyes.
"Thank you ADA Anthony for exceeding the speed limit by at least 15 miles per hour."
She turns her face up to him and smiles brightly. "I need to go. I have a very important meeting tomorrow." He walks her to the car and tucks her inside.
"We need to talk about Judge Blake before you see him again in court or chambers-deal?"
"Deal," He steps back and watches her drive away.
Every Friday is the same routine. Carl and Noah stand at their open lockers and wait for them to arrive. The self proclaimed 'Geek Squad': Justice, America, Enid and Sophia. Thank God for his cousin Sophia. Based on her membership he had first-hand knowledge of all Squad activities: slumber parties, game/rally attendance, and his personal favorite-Feminist Fashion Friday. He didn't completely understand but the outcome was always amazing.
"Ok, explain it to me one more time," Noah nudged his shoulder.
"Why, we never get it. There is something going on with thighs and gaps and rubbing and photo shop is bad."
"Shouldn't we get it?"
"Yes, but we would need to talk to them directly. Do you know how? The most I managed is the occasional greeting and one moment during her conversation with Michonne. Did you hear Justice discussing Morrison last week? She's brilliant."
"Please, what about America in statistics when the teacher screwed up the problem and she went to the Smart Board to correct his mistake."
"What's up Guys?" Sophia called out.
Carl and Noah turn slowly, "What's up?"
"We need a favor, actually two favors," she motions over her shoulder where the girls are standing all wearing short denim skirts.
"Sure, sounds good," they stammer in unison.
"First, Carl can you tutor Justice in statistics? America tried but it did not go well."
"That wasn't my fault. I went slow…" America argues.
"Slowly 'Beautiful Mind.' I need the breakdown and you're too MIT and CalTech to help me," Justice pushes back.
"Ladies, you're scaring the normals," Enid chimes in and shifts their focus back to Noah and Carl."
"Noah, America is having some sort of programming crisis with her robot and you went to the STEM camp-right?"
Carl gulps in air, alone with Justice, while he tries to wrap his mind around the concept she starts speaking and moving closer to him.
"Um, maybe we could figure out a schedule during AP English today if you don't mind sitting up front," she steps forward and peers up at him. She's tiny at 5' in her bare feet and today she is wearing flat sandals.
Carl peers down and takes in all her glorious curves. She's like a pocket size Beyonce. "Sure, um, just save me a seat."
"Cool, see you 2nd period," she turns and bounces away.
Noah turns to Carl, "Did that just happen?" Carl can barely nod.
Carl approaches the door to English takes a breath and walks in with all the confidence he can muster. Justice faces the back of the room engaging in some silent conversation with Enid. He slides into the desk next to her and pivots to greet him. "Hi," she chirps.
"Hey." My God what is that smell? Vanilla but deeper.
"I know you have the internship and Sophia reminded me you attend half day so I can work around your schedule but I need consistency to retain the material."
He remains quiet working it out in his head. "We can sit together in class so you get immediate help. If you need more help you can come by the comic shop on Saturday's between 9:00 am and 3:00 pm."
"Really, I'm not breaking up the Bromance," her smile reaches those soft brown eyes surrounded by lush black curly lashes.
"The Bromance will survive," he smiles effortlessly. Friday is peer review and Justice and her purple gel pen are taking his paper apart. He sits quietly methodically working through her analysis of imagery and finds an error. She conflated the imagery from the text with movie adaptation of the popular short story. He writes a comment in the margin.
When the papers are returned to their rightful owner he sighs. Except when he reads her review he realizes half her comments are commendations. Carl is half way through her comments when he hears her giggle. He turns, "What's funny?"
"Me," she laughs placing her small hand on his arm. "I can't believe I made such a rookie mistake. Thanks for catching it."
He shrugs.
"Seriously, most people don't read my work. They just slap an A on it and don't take the time." The admiration in her eyes is clear.
The bell rings and he catches up to Noah in the hallway. "How did it go?"
"We're meeting during lunch in the tech lab. Dude, I can't be alone with her for forty minutes," Noah begins to panic.
"Yes you can. Focus on the programming and the robot," Carl responds with his hands on his friend's shoulders.
"Does that work?" he's breathing normally again.
"Yeah, I survived English and offered to sit next to her in stats."
"We can do this," Noah responds with slight trepidation.
Rick drives the streets of Kings' County effortlessly and pulls into one of the designated parking spaces. He removes his briefcase, secures the patrol unit and strolls to the lobby. Aaron greets him as he approaches the Security Desk, "Officer Grimes, so nice to see you again."
"Likewise Aaron," Rick responds professionally.
"Dale, I will escort the officer. He has a meeting with my amazing boss and we don't want to keep her waiting." The gentlemen approach the elevator in companionable silence. Once the doors close Aaron picks up the conversation. "Will you attend the Mixer this evening?"
"Thinking about it," Rick lies smoothly. Only if thinking about means outfit freshly tailored and pressed from the dry cleaner with shoes buffed and shined.
"Sorry, I want her to feel welcome. I think she could make a difference," Aaron responds sheepishly.
The elevator doors open and the two men make their way down the hallway. Once they enter the reception area Aaron places the items he was carrying on his desk. Before he can speak Michonne exits her office with her arms filled with folders.
"Aaron the green folders are for Maggie, yellow are for you, the blue is for Carl. The red are for Sasha-wait, she is in the next meeting. Did we get a reply from IT to our request?"
Rick watches her in 'work mode' precise and focused his eyes fill with wonder and his heart with pride. She could lead the free world. He reflects back to last night and the fact that he alone saw the vulnerability. She trusted him to support her and keep her safe. Before he could dig too deep on the significance she recognized his presence.
"Officer Grimes, I apologize. Do come in," she gestures to her office. He smiles and follows. Sweet Jesus that ass! He attempts to close the door. "Don't even think about closing the door our chaperone is on her way," she explains.
"Why?" he questions.
"Tell me what I said while we were walking in?" She turns quickly and folds her arms across her chest.
He searches his memory-nothing come up. "You didn't say anything," he replies tentatively. She perches on the edge of her desk and crosses her legs. The action shifts his focus to the black and white snake skin Python stilettos on her feet. They look better in person.
"Rick," she's snapping her fingers to focus his attention.
"Fine, I will sit at the table and prepare."
"Thank you."
Fifteen minutes later Sasha enters and Michonne hands her a stack of folders. The three work together seamlessly. The meeting is about to end when Rick ponders aloud, "I wish we had body cameras."
"Excuse me," Sasha head snaps toward him.
"I think they would help. You don't want to get it wrong, but there are so many cases and it takes so long to go to court. You miss thangs. More importantly all those young men can't be bad. I think about Carl and Noah…" he trails off because the office is too quiet. "Did I say something wrong?"
"No, not at all," Michonne stammers out with her heart in her throat.
"I will verify the two items with the Evidence Room and forward the information to Ms. Williams' office," he confirms.
"Please, call me Sasha," she replies.
He stands, shakes both their hands and swaggers out the door. Michonne follows and closes the door.
"You're whipped," Sasha offers with a smile.
"Completely."
Every time Lori prepares for the Mixer with the same two emotions balanced in her heart: hope and disappointment. Hope that Rick will attend and they can re-capture the magic of high school and disappointment when he never arrives. Tonight as she slips into another blue dress, he use to love her in the blue cheerleader uniform, she feels something new-competitive. Kings' County grapevine confirmed Rick took Jessie Anderson out last weekend so the odds were 50-50 he would arrive with a date. Jessie was new and fresh but Lori had history on her side. There were books and movies dedicated to their story. She just had to be patient. They were homecoming king and queen for heaven sake she deserved her happy ever after. She needed the opportunity to remind him of how happy they were together.
Once at the annual Fourth of July picnic he had remembered. The day was picture perfect with blue skies, the bright sun and a gentle breeze. He looked so handsome in his KCSD t-shirt and scuffed boots tossing the football with Shane. Lori offered an old cheer from the sidelines and he bought her a jar of lemonade reminiscing about the good old days before walking to her car. For a brief moment she saw it in his eyes-potential. The fulfillment of everything she had ever dreamed but just as quickly the potential was replaced by something else she could neither name nor understand. Be positive. Tonight is a new opportunity. She told herself as she applied her new lipstick.