In Living Colour
The clock reads 4:00 am and Sasha barely sleeps. Her right hand wrapped securely around his phone rests under his pillow. She feels the vibrations, her eyes pop open and her heart beat increases at a frantic rate. She slides her hand out and looks at the screen: Restricted. "Hel-lo," she stutters.
"Sweetheart, I need you to breathe. I'm not hurt but the operation is not going as planned," Daryl explains quickly.
"Alright," Sasha inhales deeply.
He needs to determine the level of threat. "What did you plan to do today?"
"Really, you think that is what we need to talk about?"She accuses.
"Humor me."
"Fine, I have all these amazing naughty plans for this big, sexy guy I know. So I am cooking and pampering myself."
"Good…did you go to the store already?"
Sasha's instincts sound the alarm, "You want me off the streets and behind secure doors."
Daryl exhales. She couldn't be more perfect if she tried. "Please."
"Because it will help you focus?" it is a statement.
"Yeah," he responds with relief.
"Done, but I want a call later tonight and a proof of life photo," she negotiates.
"I am not sexting on a FBI phone."
"Who in the hell said anything about sexting. Why would your dick even be out? Are there thirsty bitches…I will get my Girls…" she rants at rapid pace.
"Sasha…calm down," he laughs long and hard. He has not laughed in days.
"What?" she takes shallow breaths.
He realizes she has been strong for him but she is stressed and scared. "I'm in Virginia. Does that help?"
"Thank you," she sighs.
"One more thing, I know you are buried under a million blankets and surrounded by giant pillows. If I close my eyes I can remember your warm, cozy body snuggled against me. May I have a picture of that to get me through the rest of today?" he asks innocently.
"Baby, of course you can. Ugh, now I want to rub my body all over you so slow and gentle that we lose track of time," she responds wistfully.
"Send me my picture and I will call you later," he groans.
"Okay and I promise to stay off the streets."
Daryl returns to the war room. He and Agent Mills work feverishly to fix the mess created by Director Reynolds. Between old and current case files including the suspect board based on the haphazard seize and arrests they identified a total of three missing suspects: a woman and two men, one of which is Dwight.
"The woman's red hair is distinctive for the All Points Bulletin unless she changes her hair color."Agent Mills supplies
"Dwight's scar distinguishes him but the last suspect. Brown hair, 5'10..," Daryl rubs his rough hands over the stubble on his face.
"We need fresh eyes or a new approach," Mills thinks aloud.
A video message arrives on Daryl's FBI phone. He opens and watches Sasha's adorable sleepy face blow him a kiss surrounded by pillow and blankets. "What is your conflict of interest policy?"
"Humph…our top consultant is my significant other and the Director is my ex," she raises a brow and laughs.
Two hours later Sasha Williams and Jesus Rovia follow Agent Foster into an undisclosed FBI building. Agent Mills stands to greet the pair. "Thank you for coming. Operative Dixon assures me you could extend our investigation."
"We will do our best," they reply confidently.
After the one hour briefing Sasha is so proud she could burst. Daryl's undercover work including the intelligence from the compound gives them solid leads. "The best option is back road biker bars," Sasha explains, "Jesus, show them the network."
Jesus attaches his laptop to the projector to display the grid. "The blue dots represent bars or diners that are off the mainstream grid across the state of Georgia. By this time tomorrow I can build something similar for Tennessee. Not as extensive but enough to get a search started," Jesus clarifies.
"Perfect. Let's reconvene tomorrow at noon for a working lunch. Thank you both for coming on such short notice," Agent Mills shakes their hands and exits the room. Agent Foster takes over the conversation, "I will deliver each of you to separate safe houses for the remainder of your stay. Follow me."
They chat in the car and Agent Foster drops Jesus at the first location. When they reach the second safe house she offers Sasha a key and exits the vehicle. "I will pick both of you up no later than 11:15 am."
The ladies share a smile, Sasha grabs her bag and enters a non-descript home in the modest suburban neighborhood. She follows the light in the hall to the main bedroom. Sprawled across the bed with his face plastered against the mattress and a towel around his waist is her Baby. She strips down to her panties and crawls gently onto his back. Sasha slides her hands underneath him so she can grip his chest and abs. She inhales him and feels safe.
"Sweetheart," he mumbles into the mattress.
"Shh…go back to sleep."
Daryl reaches for the blanket and pulls it over them before going back to sleep. A few hours later the vibrating phone wakes him before the alarm can. "Dixon, he grumbles without opening his eyes.
"Listen, it's Foster. Your investigators paid off big time. We picked up the female suspect. I am on my way to interrogate her now. Mills wants you off the streets. I'm sure that won't be a problem."
"Check in later this evening?" it is more a statement than a question.
"Yeah, but we will call first. Personally, I don't need the visual," she laughs.
"Good luck Foster, he hangs up.
He feels her lips behind his ear, "You catch all that?"
"Yes, the operation requires you to stay naked in bed with me," she moves her lips to his neck.
"I like your interpretation," Daryl reaches back and squeezes Sasha's thigh. "Can I ask you something?"
"Mm-hm," she snuggles him tighter.
"Why do you hold me like this?"
"Oh my God…you don't like it. I'm sorry…I'll get down," she is flustered and embarrassed.
Daryl stops her by gripping her thigh tighter. "No, I want to understand it," he implores.
Sasha lifts her head and places her chin on his back to speak freely. "When we first met I was scared to get on the back of your bike. But when I held you it felt like nothing would ever go wrong. It is my safe place," she exhales a shaky breath.
Tears sting his eyes. The physical scars and evidence of all his pain, shame and grief are her safe place. Damn if her love can't make me whole. "I don't remember a time in my entire childhood when someone wasn't getting beat. Eventually I was just a boy left alone with no way out. Somehow the Pastor and his wife found me and fixed me up the best they knew how."
Sasha listened and placed tender kisses on every mark and scar. "Every part, ever inch, every ounce of you is all I will ever need or want."
Daryl held her off him as he rolls on to his back. She opens the towel, removes her panties and strokes him before sliding him into her tight wet walls. They moved together one wave after another crashing against each other. The only sounds are their gasps and declarations of love. Their climaxes were explosive.
Sasha lies against his chest and he strokes her back, "Would you meet my parents? They live here in Virginia."
"I've never met anybody's parents before."
"Trust me. They will love you. Daddy will take your down to the Hall to show you off and Mama will tie you to a chair and feed you until you pass out," Sasha laughs.
"I guess…I ain't turning down any home cooked meal," his voice is skeptical.
Rick opens one eye looks at Michonne and she bursts into a fit of giggles, "You love me," she covers her mouth with her hands.
He kisses her forehead, "I do desperately love you." His smile creates laugh lines around his eyes. "Guess what?" You love me too," he shares as if the statement is a wonderful surprise.
"I know," she is giggling again. They get up and complete their morning routines and make their way to the kitchen. Michonne wearing nothing but his white tank t-shirt bends and stretches looking for ingredients, pots and skillets. "Stop looking at my ass and hand me that can of salmon," she spins and places a hand on her hip.
He gets up and hands her the can, "Fine, he pouts, I'll be useful." He straightens up the living room and returns to the bedroom to try and put it back together. The room reeks of sex and sweat so he opens all the windows and strips the bed. He starts a load of laundry with the soiled sheets.
She is half way through cooking when he takes a seat in nothing but his navy blue striped boxers. Michonne keeps her back to him, "So, I need you to remain calm, but my ex is the new public defender." She peeks over her shoulder. He is staring at the counter nodding. "I ended the relationship two years ago after I caught him high on Ecstasy having a 3-way with his boss and best friend." Rick's mouth falls open and he stares at her back but she keeps cooking.
"He wants you back. That is why he is here." She nods her head in the affirmative. "Give me his name?" Rick's voice is like dry ice-crisp and dangerous.
"Mike Owen," she places a plate of perfectly seasoned grits, scrambled eggs and fried salmon patties in front of him. "I made it clear at our meeting that the door was closed."
"Would you still be together if you had not caught him in the act?"
"No, I always felt like I dated a version of him. What I saw only confirmed my hunch. What about you?"
Rick digs into breakfast, "Damn Woman, you can burn," he closes his eyes and savors the flavor. "The casuals includes Jessie, I'm ashamed to say were a result of peer pressure. A wedding, blind date, you know the drill. Lori and I fulfilled every after school special, but I didn't really feel anything. If I hadn't attended that Junior Senators program and explored the possibility of being more or different I am not sure I would have had the courage to end the relationship."
Michonne gasps, "Georgia Tech…they host that program every year. I participate in the Alumni Guest Speaker Series. I recommended Carl and Justice-it's a secret." She winks.
Rick shakes his head, "I'm glad I didn't know you were possibly across campus. They would have kicked me out for unbecoming behavior. I wonder how many babies we would have had by now.
"What are we going to do about our parade of ex's?"
"Nothing, we will live our life and they will adjust. But just to be clear, he cocks his head to the right, if Mike or Judge Blake so much as blink wrong life as they know it is over." Michonne shivers at his menacing tone.
Carl's day is great. The Comix Shop bustles with activity and a steady stream of customers. The random texts from Justice make him feel like Captain America. He hears the familiar chime of someone entering the shop.
"Man, I'm telling you Carl can get us the shirts."
"Who the hell is Carl and what is all this shit?"
At the mention of his name Carl looks up-Negan and his crew of sycophants.
"Hey Carl, the teams needs some Nick Fury t-shirt to get us hyped for Homecoming," Jay explains.
"Okay, we have a few on the rack over there and I can pull up some options online. How many do you need?"
"At least 30-40 but no one can have the same one as me," Negan arrogantly responds.
"The team will need to pre-order. I need a roster, sizes and a 30% deposit," Carl continues to work generally ignoring Negan's presence.
Negan holds up a shirt with Nick Fury in the center, "This one is mine. Where can I try it on? I want to make sure I look like The Rock." He is cut off when the bell chimes.
"Carl's our friend. He calls us Ginger and Mary Ann 'cause we live on Giggling Island," the little voices explain. The two raven hair girls are dressed in matching pink leotards, tights and ballet skirts. They are leading Justice by the hands.
Negan inappropriately strips off his Kings' County Football t-shirt and leers at Justice. "Perfect timing, I would hate for you to miss my gun show," he lifts his arms and bends them at the elbow.
"Eww, the girls squeal, you smell weird." His crew laughs.
"Not polite Ladies," Justice admonishes. "Excuse us." She moves past Negan and his crew without so much as a second glance.
He replaces his shirt and watches the exchange at the counter. This Carl has her undivided attention. For the first time in his life he is jealous-choking on envy. What the hell?
He approaches the counter. Carl looks up and hands him the order form. "Return the completed form by next Saturday if you want the shirts in time for Homecoming."
"Hey Justice-," Negan begins.
"Save your breath. Not in this lifetime or the next." Carl is thrilled but not surprised. She shut him down.
Jay and the rest of the crew snicker and he shoots them a warning glance. Negan snatches the paper from Carl and stalks out of the shop with the others following behind him.
Carl reaches under the counter and hands the girls their Teen Titan Raven t-shirts, "As promised."
The girls jump up and down clapping. "We will be so cool at school on Monday."
"So how do you three know each other," he is curious.
"Justice teaches our ballet class," Ting explains.
Ling continues, "I was in charge of music today and your picture is in her phone."
"Do you have a picture of her? Ting asks.
"I do, look…" he turns the phone towards his little friends.
"Wow…you look so pretty."
"She does…here hold up your shirts and I'll take your picture. They pose and smile.
Justice looks down at her phone to hide her blushing face. Why does he have me feeling like this? I'm a mess. "Come on Ladies your mom pulled up outside."
"See ya' Carl," they call in unison.
"Later, Mary Ann and Ginger," he responds hoping Justice returns to visit.
He cleans up the mess Negan left. "Ten year old groupies…not really a good look," Justice teases when she re-enters the shop.
"Let's not get carried away," he calls over his shoulder.
She leans against the counter, "Are you going to the library today?"
"Nah, hanging with my Uncle Rick. Can you keep a secret?" he asks with a whisper.
"Sure," she's excited he is sharing with her.
"He's dating Michonne. How does that even happen? She is completely out of his league." Carl shakes his head in disbelief.
"Makes sense to me. Most guys with real swag don't even know it and Officer Grimes has serious swag," Justice's eyes give Carl a head to toe appraisal. "Well, I better go," she pushes off the counter.
Carl is frozen and confused. What did that look mean? Is she saying I have swag? Uncle Rick has serious swag?
Abe knocks on the door. His nerves were in over drive based on the sweat clearly evident on his brow. In the back of his mind he still believes the whole situation is an elaborate prank but thus far everything checked out.
Rosita opens the door wearing a thin tank and short. "Great, you found the place," she waves him in, "have a seat."
He sits in the closest armchair. "Here are my lab results," he lifts up a piece of paper.
"Cool, here are mine plus a copy of my birth control prescription."
Damn, she is about business. "So how does this work exactly?"
"Let's talk first. What are your expectations?"
"I expect to fuck or get fucked," he shrugs.
"Oral, anal, toys, fetishes," Rosita goes all in.
Abe shakes his head. "Listen, this is getting a little too weird. Can we get a drunk and see what happens?"
"Fine, follow me." They enter the kitchen. Rosita already poured some tequila shots and laid out her vibrator.
"What's all this?"
"I'm having an orgasm today with or without you."
Abe took two shots back to back. "Drop your pants." Rosita steps out of her shorts and he lifts her on to the table. She spreads her legs and Abe took a seat. He spreads her open and uses his fingers to explore his new playground. "Are you always smooth?"
"No," her breathing is shallow.
"Good. I need a full bush. I'm a grown ass man I need grown woman pussy." He pushed a full digit in and stroked at a steady pace. "Juicy, also good-I like my batter thick." He added a second meaty finger. "Grab 'em and show me how you milk it."
Rosita can feel herself dripping down her ass on the table. She inhales and exhales evenly trying to extend the session in case it's a one off. He grabs a nipple and pulls hard. "Hot damn," she lifts her hips and starts a rhythm using every internal muscle she's got.
He releases her nipple to unbuckle his pants. "Shit, I need both hands."
"Go ahead I got this," Rosita pulls her own nipple and strokes herself. She watches him pull the condom on and roll it down. Magnum is definitely a non-starter.
He grabs the head and strokes her folds, "Do you need a safe word?"
"Yeah, bullet," she pants. Maybe Everest was a bad idea.
"Brace yourself," he admonishes.
She holds the edge of the table. He pushes in smooth and she exhales and adjusts her hips. He pulls out and she lifts her thighs. "Give me a shot and then bang this pussy."
He hands her the glass she throws it back and prepares for Armageddon.
Two hours later she is laying face down, bent over the couch and Abe is sitting with his back against the wall.
"I'm sorry about your eye. The 69 got away from me."
"Can I get those ice packs please?" he rasps and stutters out.
"Sure," she stumbles to the kitchen.
Abe is delirious. He is not even sure he remembers everything they did.
AN: Yes, I have some unresolved Ichabbie feelings and there are just some Sleepy Hollow corrections that need to be made. However, this will not be a full crossover.