Clarification
America, Sophia Enid and Justice reviewed their research paper checklist in the reserved quiet room of the public library. "Ready…upload complete," Enid announces. Each girl engages in her own chair dancing celebration.
"I still think the interview with Michonne and the research required to support that section gives the paper more depth," America compliments. Enid rolls her eyes.
"Not to mention we picked up Noah and Carl which is the best two for one deal ever," Justice laughs.
"I have to admit my cousin rocks, "Sophia smiles. "How is Noah these days?" she questions.
Every head turns to America. Her ink black tendril curls are in two thick braids pinned across the top of her head. She is going through her Frida Kahlo phase. "Why are you all looking at me?"
Justice pantomimes a square with her index fingers, "We are in the Vault-spill it."
"He tried to kiss me," she blurts and covers her mouth with one hand.
"No…Get Out…," Justice and Sophia exclaim.
"We completed the final practice run with Rousey. I leaned one way, he leaned the other and then it was happening," America explains.
"How was it?" Justice asks just innocently enough.
"I don't know," America mumbles and shrugs.
"What does that mean?" Enid's brows bunch in confusion.
"Fine…I freaked, turned my head and he got my curls instead," she face plants on the table.
Sophia rubs her back, "He'll try again."
"Why wait on him. If you want a kiss make it happen," Enid insists.
America lifts her head and places it against her hand, "Is it wrong that I want him to try again?"
"No, he obviously like you and enjoys your time together," Justice reassures.
Enid digs in, "Did I miss a memo? When did we become basic?"
"What the hell?...What's your problem?...Why are you hatin'?" they all snap.
"Seriously, Justice can't do arithmetic without checking with Carl. You are using your Beautiful Mind to worry about a kiss and Sophia seems to enjoy being the rom-com cliché side kick," Enid spews.
"Since you decided to be Bitter Bitch it was the only role left," Sophia claps back.
America and Justice turn to each other and silently mouth, "DAMN!"
Enid snatches her things from the table stuffing them into her backpack. "Call me when you get your Feminist Panties back." She pushes the glass door open and exits never looking back.
The room is quiet and filled with doubt. America is the first to rebound, "Fuck her. My feminism allows me to be a kick ass engineer and have the guy initiate the first kiss."
"Damn straight. Clearly she forgot that feminism requires women to respect and support other women's choices," Sophia announces confidently.
"So what if Carl makes me feel like Beyonce's Crazy in Love lyrics," Justice blurts and covers her face with her hands.
"Finally…Thank God," America and Sophia shout.
"Am I that bad?" she doesn't look up.
"No, you two are that cute," America pushes back.
"I haven't seen my cousin this happy since he got the internship."
"Really? I feel like a hot mess," she laughs.
"Yeah, but you've always been a hot mess," American deadpanned. They devolve into giggles.
Rick picked up Noah and Carl and headed to T-Dog's BBQ Joint. "Counter or booth Gentlemen?"
"Booth," the Boys respond.
After being seated Rick pushes his back against the wall and stretches his legs out along the bench seat crossing his feet at the ankle. The Boys are sitting side by side across from him. He opens discussion, "School…"
"Good," they reply in unison.
"Life…"
"Fine," they respond in chorus.
"Girls?"
They release a series of heavy sighs, groans and head shaking. Rick smiles wide.
Noah starts, "Two weeks, 40 minutes a day we are working on this robot. We text, we laugh. She even hugged me after she solved a programming glitch. I move in for the kiss and at the last minutes she turns her head and I get curls. Not even the cheek. What does that mean?"
"Have you talked to her since?"
"Yeah, she invited me to the library."
"Try again."
"I got invited to the library too," Carl shares a bewildered expression.
Rick's head turns to his table mates, "A bunch of smart, pretty girls invite you to the library and you decide to hang out with the old dude," he raises both brows. "What's the rule?"
"Say yes and wear pants," they mumble.
"Hey guys, the usual or something new?" Journey their regular server approaches the table with a pad in her hand.
"Usual," the Boys respond with heart eyes.
Rick smiles and shakes his head, "Actually, substitute sweet potato fries. Nice braids- did you add color?"
She pushes a few braids behind her right ear. "I did it for fun. Thanks for noticing. I'll be back with your order."
"Was that flirting?" Noah asks.
"Nope, just a compliment."
"What's the difference?"
"Intention."
"How do you know if you have swag?" Carl inquires.
"I haven't figured that one out completely. There seem to be levels or types. I know a certain amount of confidence is required. Bottom line: if your woman says you got it-you got it." Rick offers honestly.
Journey returns to the table with their food and drink order. Rick whips out his phone and takes a picture of the fries to send to Michonne with the caption: Thinking of you.
Carl decides to have some fun. "Uncle Rick, did you become a foodie or start a Pinterest account?"
"No," he responds without looking up.
"Hmm…Hey Journey, does Uncle Rick have swag? His eyes dance with mischief.
"Major," she delivers with a straight face.
"How?" he and Noah exclaim.
"You are not old enough for that answer. Enjoy your meal gentlemen," she exits the table. Rick chokes and coughs on his beer. Carl and Noah's eyes grow to the size of saucers, "Whoa."
Rick drops Noah off first. "Carl, we need to talk man to man."Carl turns his body toward his uncle and fixes his eyes on him like a laser. They are parked in the drive way of his house.
"I'm in a relationship. This is different…it's lay down your life, spend your last dime, willing to beg-different." Rick scratches his eyebrow with this thumb. "It's Michonne."
"I know," Carl responds gently. Damn, he got it bad.
"How?"
"She let it slip about your schedule. I filled in the blanks. I was having a mini-crisis and she stepped up."
"She is amazing," Rick is lost in thoughts of Michonne.
"Don't worry I will be with her in court on Thursday," Carl offers.
Rick sobers, "We have an additional threat: Public Defender Mike Owen."
The FBI buzzed with excitement with all the new activity. The new and improved team leveraged intelligence from the interrogation to produce significant results for numerous open and cold cases as well as additional leads and arrests. Regional Director Derek Morgan enters the room with a binder tucked under his arm looking around the room, "Agent Mills?"
"Yes Sir," she responds while standing.
"I had to come see for myself. Please introduce your team and bring me up to speed," he sits on the edge of the table folding his arms across his broad muscular chest stretching his legs in front of him and crossing his feet at the ankle.
"This is Operative Daryl Dixon and he added Investigators Sasha Williams and Jesus Rovia from Kings' County to the team," she gestures respectfully to each member. We solved three cold cases, two open cases and have new leads in a number of others I am pleased to report."
"Let's keep it 100%. Danny fumbled and your team managed to not only recover the ball, but score and complete the 2-point conversion," he looks around the room daring anyone to challenge his assessment of the operation.
Daryl likes this guy. He looks over to Sasha who is mouthing, "It's about to go down." He tries to suppress his laugh.
"Dixon, give me your threat assessment on Dwight."
"Yes Sir. Based on my interaction with him during the operation and the most recent intelligence he should be our priority. He has liquid resources, a volatile personality, limited family ties and he is not a true believer. That makes him a wild card."
"I agree. I need you and your investigators to develop a profile package to disseminate to every office in our region," he stands and retrieves his phone.
Jesus eyes bulge. I cannot believe this is my life.
"Baby Girl, you will be working with Dixon, Williams and Rovia."
"Given what they have accomplished thus far we should be done is a couple hours, Black Adonis."
"Alright," he turns to Daryl and extends his hand.
Daryl stands and shakes his hand firmly. "Dixon, you and your team are valued assets and I take care of my people. You will receive a permanent authorization code with my direct line. The jet will return you all safely to Kings' County on Monday."
"Thank you Sir," Daryl chokes out clearing his throat. How did I become this guy?
"Please, Derek."
"Now Mills, tell me about the two armory outpost with possible links to the Underground Railroad?"
"Yes, the Historical consultant was scheduled to meet us…" she is interrupted.
"You mean your BAE," he smiles, "I left him in the hall with Danny."
"Sweet Glory on the High," she moves to the door swinging it open. Ichabod Crane stands erect, arms crossed at the wrist, resting against his back towering over Reynolds who is wedged in a corner.
"Your inferior judgment and thin bare execution threatened the lives and safety of the members of the operation. Was it your intention to make folly of the task set before you?" he seethes with fury his brows raise at a slow menacing angle.
"Crane," she steps into the hallway.
"Lieutenant, I will be but a moment," he raises his hand and extends his index finger.
She sighs and searches the heavens for a way to stop his tirade before it ends in homicide. "I'm hungry. Can we finish with Morgan and find a diner?"
He moves to her in two giant strides, "But of course Treasure, his tone is filled with love, the well being of you and our unborn child is my highest duty and honor," he places an adoring hand on her noticeable bump and she tenderly laces her fingers with his.
Derek moves down the hallway with Foster on heels, "Reynolds wait in my office."
Rick enters his parent's house through the kitchen side door. His childhood experience taught him to announce himself, "Ma, Dad…anybody home?"
"TV room Son," the elder Grimes bellows. Jeffrey Grimes sits in a leather arm chair with his sock covered feet propped a top the matching tufted ottoman reading the latest edition the 'The Atlantic Magazine'. Silver waves have replaced the once chestnut curls but his blue eyes still dance with curiosity. "What brings you by?"
"I actually need Ma's help," Rick quips.
"Shouldn't be too much longer; she is at one of her classes."
Rick pulls out a packet of licorice from his shirt pocket and hands a piece to his father before taking a piece for himself. "Red licorice…I haven't had…"he trails off.
"I know. Do you still have his tackle box?"
Jeffrey stuffs his feet into his slippers, "Let's check the garage." They searched for 20 minutes before Jeffrey calls out, "Pay dirt!" He blew some of the dust away before opening the metal container and uses his eyes to take in the contents. "What's with the sudden nostalgia Son?"
"Honestly, Michonne. She wanted me to have a favorite candy which brought back all those memories out on the lake."
Jeffrey studies his son, "Boy, you are seriously besotting."
Rick places his hands on his hips, shuffles his feet back and forth and nods his head, "If I do but one thing with this life. It will be- loving that woman."
"Well hell now I love her," he laughs to relieve the intensity of the emotions.
The father-son moment is broken by Jolene Grimes calling from the house, "Stop being selfish."
The Grimes men make their way into the house. "Ma, I got this list and I don't know where to start," he hands her the paper.
Her eyes light up, she dances back and forth, waving her arms above her head and snapping her fingers.
Rick release an exasperated sigh, "Let it out."
"She can cook! Praise hands-she can cook," she exclaims.
"How can you tell from that list?" he's confused.
"Am I wrong?" she challenges.
"No, but…" she interjects.
"What do you know about another officer from looking at their duty weapon?" she raises a knowing brow.
"Touché."
"Let me get my purse…"
He interjects, "Ma, boundaries."
"Fine, give me a pen," she starts making notes on the list and hands it back.
"You sure I won't get the wrong stuff?"
"Positive."
"Thanks," he kisses her cheek. "Dad, I'm out." Jeffrey enters the kitchen and watches his son bound through the side door. He looks down at his wife, "We're getting grandbabies."