"No." Michonne whispered even as her body yearned for more. Rick roughly twisted her nipple, kissing her so deeply he left lightly gasping for breath.

"Beg for me." Rick released her sore nipple. Michonne's breath grew more ragged.

"Rick." Michonne moaned.

She felt his hand travel down her belly, until they were hovering above her pussy. Rough fingers parted her engorged inner lips and grazed the aching tip of her clit, eliciting a shudder. Then a large finger plunged into her pussy. Michonne rocked against his hand.

Rick couldn't believe the self-control he was exerting. Feeling her hot pussy clench around his fingers made his dick throb, but seeing her so tormented, heightened his excitement and encouraged him to not give in. However, Rick quickly replaced his fingers with his cock. He lazily rubbed his hardness liberally between her swollen dark velvet pussy lips. She parted her lips, looking up to him.

He mercilessly plunged into her little cunt, his skin slapping against her own. His face met hers, the tips of their noses momentarily touched before his lips pressed against her own, consuming her with a wet kiss.

He then slowed down, rotating his hips to tease and taunt her helpless body. She tried to catch her breath as his cock swivelled inside her wet tight pussy.

"Your pussy is…" Rick groaned, closing his eyes momentarily.

He placed each hand resolutely on her hips, driving further into her pink opening.

Michonne felt euphoria gather its roots into her sex, digging at her skin like his calloused fingers. She felt so close to an orgasm, the sensation became an increasingly overwhelming fireball, but as she was about to cum, he pulled out. Michonne nearly lost her mind.

"What the fuck?" She yelled.

"I told you." He chuckled, out of breath.

He dropped her head backwards and let out an annoyed groan. Rick approached her and held his hand to her neck. "You want to cum?"

"Yes."

He softly kissed her neck before pushing his dick into her like steel. His balls slapped against her and she quickly reached her tipping point. Rick could feel Michonne succumbing to the pounding rhythm of his cock. He watched how her body reacted when she came. Her back arched and her eyelids fluttered closed. He fought to stay in control of her natural response, but it was hopeless.

He kept his hand on her neck and continued to pound into her. Their bodies spoke to each other, as they both fucked, communicating their needs, feelings, with animalistic grunts.

She cried out, "Please don't stop."

Rick, placed his thumb into her mouth, she suckled it desperately. He felt his dick throb as Michonne's pussy clamped down on him hard, his balls tightened. He knew she was cumming. Lost in a haze of mutual sensation, he felt his cum spill into her warm pussy; releasing the pressure that had built up just as her body tensed up.

They stilled, breathing heavily.

He looked at her, she was beautiful. He slowly withdrew his cock, watching his own cum drip from her ravished cunt and pool onto table.

He smiled at her, strangely pleased with himself for being responsible for her ravished appearance. He stooped down to untie her.

Michonne looked at him silently as he craned over and quickly undid the knots. She kicked her feet a little once they were free, rotating them. Straightening his back, he gently took her bound hands and undid the knots.

Silently they dressed, neither meeting the other's gaze.

"I'm really tired, can we go home so I can get some rest for tomorrow?" She quietly said.

Rick ran his hands through his dark locks in exasperation. "You could at least fake the pillow talk, wouldn't hurt you some."

Michonne turned round on the heel of her platform shoes, "Chill out, baby. We've had good times together, two turned-on curious adults trying new stuff, exploring each other's bodies. It's been really really… Um."

Rick approached her just a few steps, his face dropping in disappointment. "Way to make me feel like a handbag."

Michonne's eyes softened. "That's not it. I am just trying to make things as easy. Don't you want the same thing?"

Rick looked at her hard. "Sure, anyway, like you said, why make things complicated? You're not even my type." He looked at her, hoping that saying it would make it true, but instead he felt the jarring discomfort of a person who had just lied to themselves.

Michonne looked at him in pure annoyance. "Well better send that memo to your dick." She then swung the door open to leave, but then felt it hit something. She heard a resounding "Oomph!"

"Jesus? What the hell?" Michonne saw the biker standing behind the door with trousers round his ankles and his semi-stiff dick hanging out. A fragrance of marijuana hung around him like a cloud.

"I was just going in there to roll up, and chill, heard a rumour Lan'h's got a kid by me. Made me happy and made me sad all at the same time, so I need something to chill me out. But uh, you know, saw you guys through the window and it's been a while for me too."

Rick pulled his t-shirt on and stepped outside, "You could have joined in, Michonne here is a good time gal that don't care who she's having a good time with, right Michonne?"

Michonne resolved herself not to get angry, she glared at Rick challengingly, and he glared back. Jesus looked at them both uneasily, feeling the firecracker tension between them. Jesus' response was to pull up his trousers and buckle up.

"Cool, well let me just uh, grab some supplies from, and hey, maybe we can go back to the bar. I don't usually smoke Michonne, but boy am I excited about Lan'h and the kid. Just wished I was there, or she was here, you know."

Jesus quickly dived into the cabin and yanked a bouquet of dried marijuana from the beam. He sauntered out with the dozy smile. They started walking towards the bar, a stone cold silence wedged between Rick and Michonne as they followed Jesus who was absentmindedly talking about some book he was reading and how it had totally blown his mind.

They heard the sound of people approaching the back lawn, the whole gang was approaching, but there was no brotherly excited chatter. Something wasn't right; Rick saw Negan approach, flanked by a group of bikers.

"Hey Rick, we want to talk with you."

What the hell do they want with me? Rick thought curiously.

Rick felt a little nervous. So he stopped in his tracks, as did Michonne and Jesus. He pulled out a cigarette and lit it up. "What's the matter, brother?"

"You pretending you didn't get the message. So the real question is, what's the matter with you brother? Ain't up for some fishing with the fellas?" Negan sneered at Rick, his gaze flicking at Michonne.

Michonne grew extremely uneasy, she had a feeling these men were not talking about their passion for angling.

"Negan, it's not going to happen, okay? So why not go to the bar, and get with one of your regulars?"

Negan squared his shoulders and tipped his chin back, "Nah, why tread a path that's been beat? Come on, nothing wrong with passing a little something around."

Michonne looked fearfully at Rick, her voice quivering. "Rick, are they talking about me?"

Rick felt his anger rise. He couldn't tell the consequence of the decisions he would make in a minute, the consequences in an hour, or the consequences in a day.

Why defend a woman who thinks so low of you? She acts like sex don't matter. Hell, maybe she really is happy to fuck anyone. Your brothers will always be there for you, always have been, but this chick won't be. He thought bitterly.

He put out the cigarette he was smoking. "You can go shove your dicks up your asses for all you're gonna get. Michonne's not your property and given the prospect of doing the dirty with you guys makes her look as happy as a vegan in an abattoir. Sorry, brothers."

Negan smiled broadly. "Don't apologize. See, if you were gonna say no, then it's my job as chief to make sure, diplomacy or no-diplomacy, that we get what we came for."

Rick saw a glint out of the corner of his eye, Negan had a knife. A moment passed, Rick was unprepared, but he wasn't going to back down.

He never thought that he would ever be turned on by one of his own. While he didn't have a weapon, he had been waiting for someone to jump him since the war. He just never really thought it would happen in his hometown.

With a guttural roar he dove in to Negan's unarmed side and dug his elbow into his leader's stomach. Negan cried out in surprise, losing his footing. Rick rooted his feet to the grass like two tree trunks. He punched the side of Negan's head, hearing a cry as the men around cheered, spoiling for a fight.

"Careful Rick, he's still up." Michonne cried.

Negan stumbled and turned, the grip on his knife less sure, but still he lunged clumsily, and managed to nick Rick's forearm, drawing blood. Adrenaline burned through Rick so he didn't really feel it. He roughly grabbed Negan's knife-wielding wrist and pulled him down by the sleeve so that he lost his balance. Negan dropped his knife but regained his composure.

"Kill him! Kill him! Kill him!" Some of the men shouted. Rick didn't know what side the brothers were taking, but it didn't matter. He was already invested.

Remembering what he had learnt from some dude who dabbled in martial arts, Rick rushed towards him and punched him on both sides of his neck. Negan passed out as his carotid blood supply was cut off. His faint was oddly delicate, like a pastiche of a woman who had worn a corset too tight.

Rick, looked at Negan, his breath coming thick and fast as he lay looking strangely angelic on the ground.

"Anyone else want to fight?" Rick asked.

The crowd went quiet, he then heard Daryl say. "Sorry man, we just thought we would give Negan the benefit of the doubt as he's the chief."

"Chief or no chief, he got you guys acting like horny sheep?"

Hank cleared his throat. "Nah, it weren't just because we were horny, you know what Moe says, if we can get a Black chick, a Latin chick, a-"

"So you were prepared to kill me, force yourselves onto a girl from out of town, put your asses in prison, for some free beers? Christ, come on Michonne, let's go before these guys think of another genius idea."

Rick grabbed Michonne's hand, trying to mask the fact that it was shaking. He heard a lowly muttering from the crowd gathered behind.

Spencer and Andrea chased after them. "Hey, we're sorry, we didn't think we could do much but watch."

"Sorry don't cut it. Don't any of you guys have guts and minds of your own?"

Andrea looked angrily at Rick. "Well, look who's grown a conscious, at least some of us don't have blood on our hands. Come on, Spencer."

Spencer looked at Rick, then at Andrea, then at Rick. "Boy, oh boy. I'm sure she didn't mean that man." Spencer then shrugged pitifully, and chased after Andrea.

Rick stopped, and lowered his head. He closed his eyes, not wanting to open them, even if it looked curious. He didn't care, he just wanted pure darkness.

"Blood? But you didn't hurt Negan that way? "Michonne asked inquisitively.

"'Nam. That's what Andrea means." Jesus whispered. Rick opened his eyes.

Vietnam. Michonne thought, her heart dropping, reassessing everything. She felt incredibility guilty. She had been so self-absorbed, about her own needs, protecting herself, she had never cared to ask what his story was.

Jesus put a hand on Rick's shoulder, "Ignore Andrea, when she says that, she also means me, Hank, Taylor, and a damn near half of us in the club. Spencer is weak not to reign in his woman."

Rick looked at Jesus and then at Michonne. At that moment, he felt a million miles away from them even though they were within meters of each other.

"I think you'd better stay with Jesus tonight, Michonne. Now's not a great time." Rick said as he touched the bleeding gash on his forearm

Michonne shook her head and gazed intently at the hurt man, in more ways than one, that stood in front of her. "I would rather stay with you… I could sleep on the sofa."

Rick chuckled, but there was no humour in his voice. "Like I'm really going to make you stay on the sofa… I'm not going to be much fun to be around." He sighed.

"That's okay." Michonne reached out and touched Rick's shoulder and he jumped a little.

Jesus looked uncomfortable, "Cool, well, adios, brother. It's been a real pleasure to meet you Michonne, a real pleasure." He tipped his head at her and walked towards the other men.

"You too. Bye, Jesus."

Michonne bent down to Rick's level. He didn't look at her, but she didn't care. She would stay there with him all night if she had to, he had just saved her life. After a few more minutes, Rick got up. He held his hand out for her and she gently took it. They walked towards his bike in silence, but hand in hand. Michonne was getting nervous; not because she was getting on his bike again, but because she knew she was falling for him – a biker who supposedly only wanted to fuck her and not actually be with her... Or so she thought.

They were cloaked under the swaddle of night. Michonne silently thanked the crickets for distracting her from their impending conversation. Michonne hugged her body close to his as she thought of what she would say to him. She closed her eyes and when she opened them up again, they were at his cabin. She got off the bike and walked into the living room. She looked to him, but he was focused on his arm.

She tried to break the ice. "Rick, I'm sorry, I've really messed things up for you."

Rick snorted. "Not really, see, I really thought those guys were my friends. We're supposed to kill for each other, not actually kill each other. They're my brothers, or at least I thought they were."

Michonne sat on the sofa. "Well, men go a little crazy when they form groups, get a little power, seen it happen before where I live."

Rick shook his head. "Naw, I don't believe that - it's nice to have friends who have your back. It didn't used to be like this, it got worse once Negan became leader. He brought in some bad blood. Moe who owns the bar we been to used to be our leader and he played it just right, but he bought the bar and didn't really have the time to do so much organizing. Negan don't really do nothing apart from getting us together in the bar and getting us into some trouble with other clubs."

Rick looked at Michonne. He tried to remain stoic as he wasn't the fluffy emotional type, but what he felt wasn't fluffy, it was almost painful - just thinking about Michonne leaving him made him feel a sinking sense of loss.

Rick stroked his beard pensively. "You know, I wasn't expecting to meet a girl like you. You're something else."

Michonne didn't want him to elaborate on his ambiguous comment as it didn't sound particularly flattering. She sighed in annoyance.

Rick caught her expression, feeling hurt she had rebuffed his compliment. He shrugged silently and began shaving around his side burns to get some definition. From the corner of his mirror he saw Michonne walk away from his view, and into the bedroom, her curvy, sexy silhouette passing by like a whisper.

I should follow her. He said as he watched her body move about his bedroom.

Rick should have followed her to explain, but he didn't know how. Instead he entered the bedroom and picked up a pair of his pyjamas. He nearly jumped out of his skin when she kissed his back, where his tattoo resided.

"Sorry, doll, I'm not really in the mood."

"Neither am I."

He paused.

"What does it mean?" She asked. He tensed, not really wanting to explain to her. "Talk to me… Please?" At any other time he would have loved to hear her beg, but tonight was not the night. He sighed. "Lay down with me instead then?"

He nodded his head and she gently dragged him to the bed. Michonne pulled up the covers wrapped them in them. She fell asleep almost immediately, but he didn't sleep properly. He kept dreaming someone was watching over him, a sinister cold presence. Rick opened his eyes in fear and confusion, but there was no one there, but her. He flung an arm around her waist, spooning her curvy bottom. She smiled contently, momentarily roused from sleep.

She was pretending to sleep when she heard him say, "I wish I could keep you here longer, if I had planned better, I'd kidnap you."

That should have worried Michonne and have her running for the hills, but more worrying was that in it's especially skewered way, it was the sweetest thing Michonne had ever heard. She felt a mixture of happiness to have Rick close, and sadness, knowing in less than eight hours, they would be making their separate ways through life.

The next morning they made idle small talk over breakfast. He still mostly avoided her gaze because he didn't want her to see him getting sad. As he drove her to the coach station, he kept his Ray-Bans on as he didn't want her to see his bloodshot eyes.

A few old ladies and a group of teenagers were staring curiously at the Black disco chick and the white biker. They looked out of place, but for some strange reason, they fit.

"Thanks, Rick." Michonne said suddenly aware of the audience. She heard a clucking of disapproval from one of the old white women. It made Michonne uncomfortable, so she stepped away from him and wrapped her arms around herself.

Rick looked at the cluckee, the old lady and with his bearded chin jutting out chided loudly, "Don't tell me you got all those damned wrinkles and learned not a jot about good manners, Grandma."

"Well I never!" She said as her face pruned up in displeasure.

Michonne tried not to laugh. Rick stepped closer towards Michonne and she stepped back again. "You can keep stepping backwards Michonne, but it's only going to turn into a game."

He took long strides towards her. From the corner of his eye he saw, beyond the haze dancing off the road, the coach.

All you have is now, and then she's gone. He thought.

Rick stepped forward once more. Their foreheads were nearly touching. He gently placed one hand on her neck and kissed her, hoping that his kiss was enough to express how he felt about her. His tongue pried between her soft lips and caressed her own tongue. He let his hands drop to the top of Michonne's bottom.

The coach stopped, opened. They had but minutes left.

Michonne felt yearning all of a sudden and she couldn't help but say it. "I'd be lying if I said I wouldn't miss you. Maybe in another life things could have got more interesting."

She kissed him again, a tear streaming down her face. He pulled back and wiped it.

She smiled at him and stepped back, she needed to get back on the bus or she would lose her job. She got on the bus, looking back to him before walking in.

"Bye, Michonne."

"Bye, Rick."

As Michonne got on the bus, disapproving looks following her all the way to her seat, she ignored him as she remembered what she had forgotten. Neither of them knew how to contact the other.

"Damn."

"Fuck."