AN: In honor of 500 reviews that my brain cannot seem to accept as real. You all have brought me so much Joy!
What's Good
Tuesday
Carl and Justice walk into Statistics hand in hand taking seats in the back row. Carl flips open is binder and a paper note folded intricately and decorated with feminine script falls out. "Angel, did you write me an old-school note?" he asks skeptically.
"No…why?" she glances over. Justice picks up the note, unfolds the paper and reads the contents. "Ok…I got you…fine…throat punch it is," she rants while taking a picture of the note and adding the caption: Desperate Much? Before posting it to her social media account. Mom and Auntie Raquel said act like Queen and be a Boss.
By lunch the school is buzzing. Justice's post is the hot topic at every table, hallway, quad and grassy lawn. Roxanne storms toward the 'Geek Squad' table screeching, "You gold-digging bitch…how dare you lie on me!" The Squad does not respond. "Justice…I know you hear me," she continues to shout.
The cafeteria is filled with eager bystanders; many with their cameras recording. "Roxanne, how can I help you," Justice stands, turns and responds with faux sincerity.
"Why would you post that note? Do you have any idea what people are calling me?" she implores.
"Dirty hoe…ratchet ass skank…need I go on," she explains calmly.
"Why? That note wasn't your business," she retorts.
"You really are cray-cray or dumb as hell. If you…or any other fool wants to offer my man a blowjob or anything else-don't…I will shut that shit down," Justice snaps fiercely.
"Oh…are you afraid of some real competition?" Isn't that how you got your spot?" Roxanne spews.
Justice laughs, "There is no competition…my skill set is well above basic hoe. I hope you learn your lesson this time. I believe Carl explained this to you already. Again I have to ask…desperate much?" she raises one brow with a tilt of her head.
Roxanne screams in frustration and storms away with her entourage running behind her. Justice turns back to the table, bends in curtsy while the Squad offers a slow clap of approval and celebration.
The Captain, DA Monroe, Glenn and Abe meet in the technology room. Glenn provides an inventory log of all the sex toys and equipment confiscated during the raid. "Deputy Ford we are ready when you are," Morgan continues the meeting.
"Thanks…there were eight DVDs. Three were too dark to determine the individual participants but I did transcribe every groan, moan, grunt," he is interrupted.
"Deputy Ford, we understand," DA Monroe is beyond uncomfortable.
"Right…three DVDs are well lit but the camera angle disguises faces. I did list each sex act performed: sixty-nine, Eiffel Tower, anal, doggy," Abe rattles off.
Glenn interjects, "Stop dumb ass. There is a lady present," as means of explanation.
"Sorry Ma'am," he clears his throat,"the remaining two include Judge Blake, his wife and an unidentified African America man. I can identify, including make and model, each vibrator, nipple clamp, butt plug, brand of lube, condom," he trails off finally recognizing the social cues.
The room is silent and awkward. "Officers thank you for your thorough work. Please excuse us," he instructs. Both men leave the room quickly.
Deanna drops her professional demeanor, "Morgan…I…this is a nasty mess…why is my job?" she blushes and cringes.
He laughs, "You know you have to watch-right."
"Eww…there is not enough eye and brain bleach in the county to make this okay. What are the chances he would take a deal to keep this quiet?" she wonders.
"50-50…his wife is on camera with him and his public profile is fully trashed regardless of the outcome," Morgan contemplates.
"Thanks for your assistance…I need to call my therapist so I can do my job," she offers as a gallows jest.
Wednesday
"Deputy Walsh…we want to clarify your understanding of today's proceedings. You agree to the Separation Agreement from Kings' County Sheriff Department. This agreement will prevent a formal hearing, testimony under oath and cross examination." The union representative reports.
"I get it. I am no longer a deputy and no one knows why," he retorts.
"Please sign the forms in front of you. Your personal items will be delivered to your residence by courier. Your remaining pay will be sent by certified mail. Do you have any other questions?" he begins to close the appointment.
"Nope," he responds tightly. Someone will pay. I will get retribution.
Rick passes Glenn in the hallway of the Union Headquarters. They glance at each other but keep their heads down. Rick exits and marches through the parking lot toward his SUV. He is half way to his car when a voice calls out behind him, "Are you proud of yourself?"
Rick stops, squints and looks toward the sky; he leans all his weight on his left leg, "What can I do for you Shane," he does not turn to face him. I do not have the patience for his tantrum.
"You finished snitching –bitch," he spits bitterly.
"I do not know what you are talking about but I need to get going," he responds and continues to walk away.
"Since we are tattling like school boys…I use to eat Lori's pussy…I still eat it…you got my sloppy seconds," he taunts.
Rick keeps moving forward. Well that explains a lot. "Are you impotent? Just asking because I had Jessie as much as I wanted…blowjob every time," Shane shouts and jogs after him.
Almost there…get to the car so I can return to my family. Rick accelerates his purposeful march to his car.
Shane catches up, "You are probably shooting blanks…Michonne will come knocking when her belly needs some babies," he sneers with a scowl distorting his features.
Rick spins and throws his entire body behind the punch he delivers to the center of Shane's face. Rick regains his balance; lifts his leg, bent at the knee, and kicks his booted-foot into the center of the antagonistic man's chest. Shane folds in on himself like a pile of rubble. Rick kneels over his battered body with his hand gripping the handle of his Colt, "If you go anywhere near my family…if you think about going near my family-I will kill you. I will put a bullet in you skull. Tell me you understand," he grits out the threat.
Shane's vision is blurred, his nose bleeds and he cannot breathe properly. He nods his head gingerly. "No motherfucker…say the words-I understand," Rick removes his service weapon but leaves it by his side.
"I, gasp and shallow breath, un-stand," he gasps in short succession.
Thursday
"Thank you for your patience, Sir. How may I help you today?" the specialist smiles politely.
"What can you tell me about this ring?" Daryl places the open red velvet box on the jewelry case.
The specialist pulls the ring from between the satin pillows and looks at the stone with his naked eye, "Hmm." He retrieves his loupe for a closer examination, "Interesting…I am 90% confident this is a black diamond, platinum setting…approximately 2 ct.," he nods in confirmation.
Daryl's heart races as he listens to the information. That is a lot of ring. "Can you get me some papers or send it for papers?" he questions bashfully without looking up.
"Young man that is my job…How soon do you want this on her finger?" he teases.
Daryl laughs nervously, "Yesterday, last week-if you get my meaning."
"Can you hang on until Saturday? I want to get this right for you," he replies.
"Great," he responds and completes the invoice placed before him.
Daryl exits the small store with his phone to his ear, "Emmitt…yeah, we have a deal."
Michonne softly caresses Rick's swollen knuckles, gazing out the car window before speaking, "Our trip to Atlanta is your mandatory desk duty," she clarifies.
"Yes…if he decides to file charges I won't be there and desk duty does not require formal documentation in my file which would impede my promotion to sergeant," he explains.
"I am sorry…Mike came and created all this chaos with Lori which got Shane riled up somehow," he stops her apology.
"No…I will not have it. Every adult is responsible for their individual choices," he reprimands with love. "Focus on our family and your favorite sandwich shop," he attempts to re-direct and lighten the mood.
"You are right. I cannot wait for you to meet Uncle Andre. Plus I can already taste that chipotle BBQ sauce," she smiles at his profile.
Denise opens the door to the supply closet and gasps in shock, "My God…what have you done?"
"I'm sorry…I was trying to help," Judy stammers.
'No…I am sorry. I can't believe how much have done. Did you label the shelves?" she blinks both eyes.
"Yeah…I found this label maker. Maybe they will put things back if they know where it goes," she explains softly.
"Up top," Denise raisers her arm and extends her hand for the high-five.
Judy returns the gesture with enthusiasm. "Ladies and Gentlemen, I need your attention," Denise sticks her head outside the door. Officers look over and some walk to the closet. "Judy cleaned and organized the supplies. Make sure it stays that way," she commands.
The deputies closest walk in, "Wow…we have new staplers…we need to stop requesting paper clips…way to go kid." Judy blushes. I am part of the team.
"Michonne…why was I not informed you and Mike were going to be in town," Reverend Owen accuses by way of greeting.
Michonne looks up from her phone in shock, "Reverend Owen…nice to see you again," she stands abruptly to shake his hand.
He looks at her hand expectantly before returning the gesture. "Where is my son?" his tone is agitated.
"Reverend Owen with all due respect; I am not responsible for your son's whereabouts and have not been for the past two years," she pushes back. Was he always this overbearing?
His next statement is drowned out, "Gorgeous, you got the last crunch roll," Rick laughs approaching the table with a tray spilling over with food.
"Rick…let me introduce you to Reverend Owen-Mike's father," she shares politely. Her eyes deliver a different message. I am with you.
Rick lowers the tray to table and extends his arm in greeting confidently, "Sir." The reverend returns the handshake clearly confused. "Nice to meet you…I am Michonne's fiancé," he states crisply. I need to set boundaries.
"Excuse me…I was informed," Michonne does not allow him to finish.
"Reverend Owen you have been misinformed or purposely lied to but you need to speak with your son directly to make that determination. We have a full day, but it was nice to see you," she raises her chin with a hint of a challenge.
"Of course…I…please excuse me…nice to meet you," he fumbles over his words retreating from the table.
Rick and Michonne amicably discuss the provisions of the living will with the elderly lawyer. The introduction went well but Andre is still not convinced. "Well that covers everything I could think to include," he shares.
"Sir, I would like to make sure a DNR and other end of life protocols are included if appropriate," Rick introduces.
"No…absolutely not," Michonne shouts.
Rick turns to her, "Yes…my job is dangerous and I will not allow you the burden of a comatose husband or the shell of man barely functional as a placeholder father for our children," he pushes back with determination.
She turns her back to him in her chair. He gets up and squats before her resting his hands on her knees, "I love you and I will take care of you even if it is from the grave," he states tenderly.
Andre's eyes bulge out of his head. He is absolutely the one.