Here Comes the Sun
There is still plenty of daylight left as Daryl cruises the interstate with his left hand on the steering wheel and his right hand resting on Sasha's denim clad thigh. "Yes Mama…we are definitely on the freeway…I apologize for being late but the investigation took longer than we expected…alright bye," she ends the call. He laughs and she playfully swats his chest and shoulders.
"Just tell her the truth. You are an insatiable sex kitten and I am at your mercy," he ducks away from her swinging hands.
"What am I suppose to do when you are being all brilliant and taking out all the bad guys," she bats her lashes.
"Correction-we, your network is going to do so much for so many small departments without the resources of your office."
"We make a good team. Did you accomplish what you set out to do?"
"I would have been happy with the initial arrest, but getting those women and kids to safety and getting justice for the victims in the other cases makes the time undercover worth it all. I only wish we made more progress locating Dwight."
"They will find him. I'm really proud of you Baby," she kisses the inside of his wrist.
Daryl exits the interstate and drives for another ten minutes before turning onto a long, gravel covered driveway. He parks the vehicle and retrieves the bags from the trunk. He surveys the surrounding land and takes a deep breath. This feels familiar, comfortable, and safe. "Mama…Daddy, we're here," Sasha calls.
A tall, ruggedly handsome butterscotch colored man with dark brooding brown eyes walks out of the front door first followed by an ebony beauty with exquisite cheek bones and salt and pepper goddess braids coiled around her head like a crown. Harry calls to his wife, "That ain't no Bob."
"What?" she scurries to his side, "My word he is a big 'um."
"Hey Baby Girl," he embraces his daughter. Sasha steps to her mother and hugs her tightly, "Hey Mama."
Daryl maintains a respectful distance approaching cautiously. Finally he places the bags on the paved walkway and extends his hand to Sasha's father. "Mr. Williams nice to meet you," he shakes firmly.
He nods his head and bows slightly, "Mrs. Williams it's a pleasure," he is nervous.
There is a moment of awkward silence Sasha wants to fill but Daryl beats her to the punch.
"Mr. Williams, my name is Daryl Dixon and I came up hard and I don't have much but I am building a solid life so I can give Sasha everything she has ever wanted for as long as she lets me. I guarantee I will protect her up and until my dying breath."
Harry lets out a low whistle, "Shee-it Son, come on in this house. Lonette get this boy some food."
Daryl picks up the bags and follows him inside. Lonette looks at her daughter, "That ain't no Bob."
"No ma'am."
"It's a wonder you're still standing," she laughs and enters the home. Sasha shakes her head. This should be an interesting weekend.
"Daryl baby, come on in this kitchen and sit over at the table."
"Yes ma'am."
"Now I made fried chicken, but I can smother it instead. I have some left over pork roast too. I made candied yams but if you want mashed or roasted potatoes," she is interrupted by Sasha.
"Mama, Daryl is not a picky eater."
"Picky is not what I am worried about. That is a whole lot of man he needs a whole lot of food. Never mind…" she returns to the kitchen.
Daryl watches in amazement eyes wide as saucers as more and more food is piled before him. He expects the table to collapse under the weight of it all. Soon they are all seated and Harry blesses the food and all those gathered around the table.
"Daryl, Sasha mentioned an investigation. Do you work in the same office?" Harry inquires between bites.
He does not want to stop eating. Damn it I may pass out.
"No. I'm a deputy in Kings' County and was working undercover with the FBI for the past year. We needed some help and Sasha is the best so I brought her into the operation," he replies.
Lonette drops her fork and places her hand against her chest. Harry's fork hangs mid-air. Sasha watches the exchange.
"Let me get this straight. You put your life on the line everyday plus you become another person to keep more people safe," Harry clarifies.
"I guess, more or less," Daryl shrugs and piles more food on his plate.
"Lord, have mercy. Daryl you want pecan pie or chocolate cake?"
Daryl winks at Sasha, "Either one is fine ma'am."
"Daddy, Daryl is being modest. The Regional Director came in to thank him personally. His work not only saved lives but got justice for a lot of victims," she turns and gives him an adoring gaze.
Lonette returns to the table and squeezes the pie and cake in while removing empty platters to the breakfast counter. "Enough work talk. How did you two meet?"
Daryl turns his attention to Sasha. "She was lost in the woods with a flat tire and no spare. To be honest I thought I was seeing things-she was a vision," he remembers wistfully. "I helped her get her car fixed and back on the road. For reasons I still don't understand she called and insisted on taking me to dinner as a thank you."
"Oh I understand," Lonette mutters under her breath.
Sasha side-eyes her mother and mouths, "Don't start." Both women laugh.
"Mrs. Williams this meal was amazing. Thank you. Let me help-"she cuts him off.
"Nonsense, you have been undercover. Go get some rest."
He is walking past Sasha when he retorts playfully, "I'm okay. Sasha made sure-"she covers his mouth and whispers, "Stop or you will never see crotch less panties again."
He laughs and swats her butt. Harry calls from outside. "Daryl come and take a look at my new toy."
Harry you better use that cane," Lonette calls out.
"Leave me alone. I have a walking cast." Daryl follows the voice to the open garage, "Wow that is a beauty."
"You know bikes?"
"Yeah, got one back home…Sasha and I go riding on the weekends."
"My Sasha, former cheerleader on the back of a motorcycle," he's shocked.
Daryl has to take a mental time out. Sasha in a cheerleader uniform. "Mm-hm," he clears his throat. "This one here doesn't need much work if you got a junk yard nearby."
"Lonette, we going to Clifton's."
"The hell you are."
"Daryl can drive."
"Don't put Daryl in the middle of your mess," she retorts.
"Enough good people," Sasha shouts.
"Daddy, one hour using the cane…Daryl keep him within 50 ft. of the car and come straight back-no stopping at the Hall-deal? She looks between the two men.
"Deal," Harry agrees.
Daryl watches in amusement but his eyes mist over. Is this what he missed out on growing up? Is this what family feels like? He does not realize Sasha is with him until he feels her arms around his waist.
"You okay Baby?"
He kisses the top of her head. "Thank you for this chance at a real life."
She looks up at him, "Thank you for making it worth living."
Enid sits on her cousin's couch absent mindlessly eating mini chocolate covered éclairs from the container. She checks her phone again. No call or texts. What do you expect? She shakes her head wondering how things escalated so quickly. Everything was changing and she hated change. Nothing good ever happened because of change. Things always got worse. Her dad changed jobs, the moved and before all the boxes were unpacked her parents were killed in a car accident.
"Enid," Bonnie Rae calls through the house.
"In here," she garbles in response.
Bonnie Rae assesses the scene before her: quiet room, grey sweat pants and emotional eating. "What happened?" she asks quietly.
"Ugh," Enid exclaims. She proceeds to share the library episode.
"You need to apologize," Bonnie Rae encourages.
"Me, but I'm right," Enid snaps.
"No, you are not because what you are feeling is not about feminism. You are afraid you will lose your friends and you won't if you apologize. But if you don't you will definitely lose them."
"Maybe I need better friends or maybe I need male friends who don't worry about silly stuff. Noah and Carl don't fight about stupid stuff and they aren't together all the time. Maybe I should hang with them instead."
"Ok, how is that a feminist response?" Bonnie Rae counters.
Enid is quiet.
"Listen-really think about what you are doing because sorry doesn't fix everything." Bonnie Rae leaves her alone to reflect on her choices.
Shane Walsh is at the gym taking out his frustration on the equipment. Once again Rick Grimes is the Golden Boy. Sure he arrived on the scene a few minutes late but no one was dead or injured. The other officers acted like Rick pulled Rosita from a burning building. He pulled her against a wall. Shane finished his leg set and noticed Jessie and her friend at the Juice Bar. According to Rick it was just the one date.
"Monique, I just don't get it. He doesn't seem to be dating anyone. He doesn't do social media so it is hard to track," Jessie rants in exasperation.
"Girl, can I be honest? Move on," she practically shouts. "I get it, I really do. Anyone with eyes wants a shot at Grimes but there is other good dick available."
As if on cue Shane approaches the table, "Ladies, how are you today?"
"Good," they reply together.
"Well, I hate to interrupt but Jessie if you are free I would love to buy you a drink, maybe a full meal. You seem like you would be worth the time and effort," he holds out his phone.
She blushes and enters her number.
"Great, I'll be in touch," he exits the table. Guess whose name she will be screaming.
Rick sits in his car reviewing the list. He got everything on the paper, but her still feels unsettled. Michonne had given him so much in such a short amount of time. The sound of women's laughter draws his attention. They were exiting a boutique 'Velvet Rope'. He hopped out of his car and made his way inside. He took in the smell and all the items-perfect.
"How may we help you?" the sales girl greets.
"I want something special for my Lady," he supplies.
"Ok, is this I'm sorry special, birthday day special-specifics help," she encourages.
Rick is quiet, "You are the only thing that matters special."
"Damn-I'm sorry that was inappropriate, but I felt that in my soul," the sales girl with the turquoise bob shakes her head back and forth.
"Good, because my love for her is that deep," he replies smoothly.
"Ok, let's get to work. We carry traditional lingerie, custom pieces and fragrances. What can you tell me about her to help narrow the search?"
"Her hair always smells of coconut. Sometimes she adds jasmine or brown sugar, but coconut is constant. She prefers body crème over lotion because the scent lingers longer on her skin. Her shoulders are perfect and anything else would be inappropriate," he laughs.
"Does she have a signature fragrance or does it vary based on her mood?
"Definitely varies depending on mood or outfit."
"Would you like to customize a fragrance just for her? We wouldn't sell it to anyone else?"
"You can do that?" he is shocked.
"We can try."
He notices the color first. "What is that piece called?"
"That is a satin and lace corset but it is part of the 'Gorgeous Collection'" she explains.
"I'll take it," he states firmly.
"Excuse me?" she stares in disbelief.
"She loves orchids and it would fit her perfectly-it looks like it was made for her."
"We would have to call her in for a custom fitting session."
"Can you do it tonight?" One hour later Rick is completing his order and waiting for Michonne to arrive.
Carl stops the video game, picks up his phone, dials and waits.
"Hey," Justice answers.
"Hey, I wanted you to know. You can do this. I think it's cool you teach ballet and I would like to see you dance sometime," his heart is hammering up into his ears.
"You could take my class."
"Isn't there are age limit?"
"I would make an exception for you."
"Why me?" he quips.
She laughs and he feels like his heart might fly away. "Tell me a secret."
"I already did-remember. Now you tell me a secret," Carl pushes back.
"Fair enough," Be brave. "I want to hold your hand," she holds her breath.
"When the time is right I am going to hold your hand."
"Are you going to do it in class, the hallway or in public?"
"It's a secret remember," he laughs shamelessly.
"Carl, let's talk about this. I'll be a hot mess waiting for it to happen," she approaches full freak out level.
"Justice, you can never be a hot mess. Not to me."
"Seriously, this is too much Carlishisness all at once," she whines.
"Sophia is calling me for dinner. See you Monday," he is retreating from the conversation.
"Carl, you don't want to do this," she bargains before he disconnects the call.
Michonne parallel parks and approaches the boutique. There is a short red carpet leading to the entrance and black velvet ropes are strung along the silver stands. She rings the bell.
"Ms. Anthony, welcome," the sales girl greets.
Michonne mouth falls open. The full body wardrobe stands are adorned with most beautiful and delicate lingerie and lounge wear she has ever seen. A playlist of Nina Simone, Nancy Wilson and Etta James in the background heightens the atmosphere. "I don't understand?" her eyes bounce around in confusion.
"I can explain," Rick approaches from the shadows and takes her by the hand. He leads her to a wing back chair, sits and lowers her to his lap. He nestles his face within her bosom and breathes her in before placing a single open mouth kiss to her neck. "I value you," he states simply.
"I know that," she confirms in confusion.
"This is the 'Gorgeous Collection' and this is your fitting for the pieces I selected plus your signature fragrance," his hand caresses her thigh.
"Are you insane? This is too much." She turns to the sales girl, "Can he do this?" she inquires.
"Ms. Anthony he already did. We just need your measurements," she explains.
Michonne's hands caress and cup his face before she delivers a slow, smoldering kiss that curls his toes. "Where do we start?" she turns to the sales girl.
"Please change into the fitting robe hanging in the dressing room," she instructs.
Michonne re-enters the room and Rick is sitting the chair watching with his left leg crossed at the ankle over his right knee. The sales girl approaches with a tape measure and pad. She measures her bust, waist, hips, and writes down her height and shoe size. Mr. Grimes please complete the fragrance form on the counter," she directs before leaving the room.
Rick leads Michonne to the counter and opens the first jar softly rubbing a dab onto her neck before inhaling. He opens the second jar and strokes a touch of the crème on her wrist before inhaling the scent. Rick opens her robe and applies the crème from the final jar to the valley of her bosom.
Michonne is trembling from the sexual tension the entire experience creates, "Rick," she pleads.
He leans into her, his warm breath against her neck and up to her ear, "I know you are wet and your hot pussy is throbbing. I promise to stroke it better."
Her knees give out and he holds her up. "Go change," he directs. Once she returns to the dressing room he completes the order form.
Michonne pulls her white, cotton body-con dress over head and adjusts it down so the cut outs at her shoulders and waist lay correctly. She steps into her sage green ankle booties with the two inch heel. "Rick, I am hungry," she calls.
"What do you want to pick up?" he asks when she returns.
"I want to go out. I realized my baggage from my previous relationship is holding us back. I know who you are and who we are together. Nothing else matters."