A/N:
Happy New Year! It's been a while and this has been in my drafts for even longer but I finally gotten over my writer's block long enough to get this out. My goal 2021 is to be more consistent. I've had an idea for a Richonne AU that may force me to commit to that goal, we'll see.
In any case, I do have a few more scenes in mind for the Things Left Unsaid series. I promise, the next scene won't take as long to post.
Here's my version of events from S6E11. I think most Richonne writers agree - smut-like behavior occurred off-screen. Here's my take.
"Jesus will show you where you can get washed up, then come back down here when you're ready," Gregory instructed the Alexandria group with a whimsical wave of his hand.
Jesus had introduced the man as the leader of the Hilltop. But even with the title, he carried an air of undeserved arrogance, puffing out his chest with his hands braced on his hips as he spoke.
He didn't bother with the formality of an introduction as he approached Rick. "It's hard to keep this place clean," he whispered, looking Rick in the eye as if there were an understanding between them.
Fighting hard to tamp down his own agitation, Rick squinted at the thinly veiled insinuation but forced an amicable smile. "Yeah, sure," he returned, unable to keep the slight edge out his voice.
With that he let his eyes slide from the man he decidedly did not like to land on the man he was still debating on.
Jesus caught his gaze and sighed. "Follow me," he said, turning to lead the Alexandrians up a grand staircase to the second level of the manor.
Rick hung back to fall in step beside Maggie as the others filed ahead. "You clean up first. You talk to him," he said without looking at her.
Maggie frowned at him. "Why?"
Rick shrugged as they took to the steps. "I shouldn't," he told her, not bothering to hold back his grimace, "and you gotta start doing these things."
Maggie didn't argue, understanding the diplomatic role in their group had fallen to her after Deanna's untimely demise. So she nodded her head imperceptibly and quietly followed the others upstairs.
"There are two washrooms on this floor," Jesus explained, gesturing towards the different doors once they arrived on the second landing, "and a study just through there for you guys to make yourselves comfortable while you wait."
"Better not be long," Daryl grunted, brushing past Jesus to head for the study, "and I ain't washing up shit," he called over his shoulder.
"I'd expect nothing less," Jesus murmured to himself.
Rick and Abraham followed Daryl into the study while Glenn led Maggie by the hand into one of the washrooms.
"What's through there?"
Jesus turned to see Michonne pointing at a closed door at the end of the hall. "Oh, that's just a drawing room," he said as if he had forgotten it was there, "occasionally Gregory will use it as a spare office."
"Mind if I take a look?" she asked.
"No, not at all," he replied, shaking his head, "make yourself at home. I'm going to go downstairs and check on Gregory."
Michonne nodded, watching him jog back down the steps before joining the others in the study that had been designated as their waiting area.
"We need to make sure we keep our eyes open," Rick was saying when she entered the room, "we don't know enough about this place yet to let our guard down yet."
"I whole-heartedly concur," Abraham said, drumming his fingers against the firearm strapped to his side, "that welcome wagon reeked worse than dog shit on hot concrete."
"We'll stay alert. See if Maggie can get them on our side of things," Rick said with a nod.
Michonne relaxed a little at that, relieved that she wouldn't have to worry about Rick killing the Hilltop's leader before they could strike a deal. She made her way to where he stood by a large window overlooking the community.
Sensing her presence, Rick shifted his eyes to her, his hard gaze softening as he reached for her hand.
She gave him a small smile, slipping her hand into his. "Walk with me?" she asked.
He cocked his head curiously but allowed her to gently pull him by the hand.
"We'll be back," she told the others as she led Rick back into the hall.
"We'll be here," Abraham called after them with a salacious grin.
Daryl rolled his eyes at the lumbering redhead, resigned to the fact that he was likely stuck with him until the others returned.
Michonne led Rick back into the hall and towards the door on the opposite end. She turned the door knob and revealed a space only slightly smaller than the one they were just in. The walls were made up of books that lined the shelves all the way up to the ceiling, separated only by a mahogany fireplace on the other side of the room. There was a grand desk positioned in front of a bay window overlooking land expanse for miles opposite a large plush brown leather sofa situated on top of persion rug.
"Carl would have loved this," Michonne mused as she wandered inside.
Rick smiled at the fact that she always seemed to be thinking of his children as he quietly closed the door behind them.
She smirked hearing the door lock but didn't turn to face him, choosing instead to peruse the titles on the shelves.
"This place is like a museum," he said, slowly making his way towards her.
She turned to face him as he leaned against the back against the sofa opposite of her. "It has an antiquated charm," she allowed.
"What do you think?" he asked, wanting to get business out of the way.
Michonne folded her hands together behind her back as she rested her back against the smooth wooden panel of the shelf. "I think there is an opportunity here, if we play our cards right."
"And you can see us working with a guy like Gregory?" he asked, raising an incredulous eyebrow.
She shrugged. "Gregory might be a fool playing the role of a king, but this place has things we need and we can't pass that up."
Rick nodded. "I think you're right."
"So it's settled," she said, "we'll find a way to work with him. It's not like he's the first delusional megalomaniac we've had to deal with anyway."
"We seem to specialize in them at this point," he said warily before tilting his head as he considered her. He was glad they were on the same page, but mostly, he was relieved that there wasn't any misstep in their strategic partnership given the recent development in their personal relationship.
"Come here," he said, reaching for her. She smiled as she neared him, resting her arms over his shoulders as he brought his hands to her waist, pulling her between his legs. "How are you feeling about the other thing?"
She lifted a hand to run her fingers through his hair as she asked, "The other thing being us?"
He nodded, caressing her sides. "Everything moved so fast, I didn't have a chance to ask you before."
"I'm...happy," Michonne said slowly, realizing out of the myriad of emotions she had experienced in the last twenty-four hours that was the most prevalent of them all. "Being with you last night, being able to be this way with you now makes me happy."
Rick smiled up at her, taking in the sincerity in her eyes humbly. "Me, too," he murmured back, craning his neck to kiss her.
The touch was gentle, one of mutual reassurance and devotion to the new journey they were on together.
She hummed with a smile as she pulled away, gently stroking his hair, "Then, we're good."
"Good," he said, squeezing her closer.
"I saw you talking to Carl earlier," she started. The question of what they had talked about had been lingering in her mind all morning.
Rick chuckled, a slight blush dusting his cheeks. "Yeah..."
Michonne arched an eyebrow at his tone. "What'd you talk about?"
"I just told him about us, that it was new and I had planned to tell him," Rick explained with a look of chagrin.
"Why do I feel like I'm missing something?" she asked, eyeing him skeptically.
Rick sighed and avoided her gaze lest he embarrass himself further. "I may have said more than I needed to when I told him it just happened last night."
Michonne snorted, picturing Carl watching as his poor father fumbled over the right words to say. "What did he say exactly?"
"He said, and I quote, 'It's cool.'"
Michonne nodded, understanding teenage-speak. "Well, at least you didn't traumatize the kid, but I think I'll have my own conversation with him when we get home."
"I figured as much," Rick replied with a knowing smile. "You'll probably get more than two words out of him."
"I usually do," she said, feeling proud of that feat.
Rick grinned up at her and she held his gaze, still in disbelief that they could be like this now. Easily alternating between talking shop to talking about their teenager, all while entangled in each other's arms.
She cupped his face in both her hands and looked him in the eyes, momentarily losing herself in their depths before dropping her gaze to his lips. She smoothed her hands over his growing beard as she leaned into him.
Kissing Rick Grimes was still new to her, but now that she had, Michonne found it hard to want to stop. This kiss was meant to reassure him that they were on the same page. But when his hands tightened on her waist and her fingers slipped into his hair, it became much more than that.
A tinder was lit.
It didn't matter that they were in an unfamiliar space or that negotiations for their livelihoods were taking place just a few feet away. They were both eager to continue where things were left off when they were last alone before the world, in all its audacity, rudely interrupted them.
With his arms secured around her, Rick invaded her space, craning her back as her lips trailed from her mouth to the line of her jaw, down the divine slope of her neck.
Michonne felt the newly familiar heat gathering in her core from his affections. Knowing fully well all the things Rick could do with his mouth made her forget where they were. Almost.
She exhaled, tugging slightly on his curls until he lifted his eyes to hers. She shuddered under his dilated gaze, knowing she had the ability to intoxicate him in this way.
"You remembered to lock the door this time?" she breathlessly asked.
Rick tightened his arms around her, nodding once.
She bit her lip as she stepped back, pulling him by his hand to follow her around the sofa. Rick reached for her to resume what they had started but Michonne lightly swatted his hand away having other plans. She grinned as she shoved him down into a sitting position on the sofa.
Rick's expression was one of surprise and anticipation as he watched her drop to her knees in front of him. "What are you doing?" he asked, chuckling as she trailed her fingers down his abdomen.
Michonne flashed him a playful smile as she moved to unbuckle his gun belt. "What I was planning to do this morning," she returned, reaching inside his boxers for his member.
She lightly stroked him, letting her fingers glide over the prominent veins before leaning forward to let her tongue swirl around his tip, before taking him whole.
Rick inadvertently jerked at the sight of her pillowy lips wrapping around him. He couldn't think of anything beyond the feeling of him in her mouth. It was the warmest and softest place he had ever been inside of, second only to the place between her legs.
Michonne placed a gentle but firm hand on top of his stomach, stilling him as she took control of the situation, something for which Rick was infinitely grateful. Especially with the expert way that she sucked and pulled him, leaving him in a state of near delirium.
It had been years since his last blow job, and yet, before the end of the world, he didn't remember it feeling anything close to this.
Michonne moaned and flexed her jaw, making room to take him deeper inside. Rick's hips buckled at the sensation as he blindly reached one hand for the back of her head while the other found the arm of the sofa to hold on for dear life.
She was relentless, maneuvering her tongue in ways he didn't think were possible. While the slow and steady bob of her head left his muscles laxed and his mouth gaping.
"Fu...Chonne," he shakily exhaled.
He lacked all coherency as Michonne and her exquisite lips alternated between a pace that was equally teasing and torturous. She moaned, bracing her hands on his thighs for leverage and exhaled through her nose, wanting to make sure nothing hindered his road to completion.
It had been a while for her too, but she was glad her old tricks still worked. In her past relationships, she always took pride bringing her partners satisfaction. With Rick, however, it turned her on just as much.
This man who has fearlessly led charges against hordes of walkers, this man who handles a Colt revolver like an art form, this man who doesn't take shit from anybody lying down was now puddy in her hands. Knowing she could do that to them was an aphrodisiac within itself.
When she felt him begin to vibrate beneath her, she knew her efforts were justified.
"Shit," he choked out when his dick completely disappeared inside her mouth. "I'm about to..."
Michonne didn't let up, instead she brought her free hand to the underside of his shaft to help coax him to completion. He came with a low and guttural grunt.
It was as if he left his body for a moment. He jerked with a spasm as Michonne took everything he had in stride. She made sure not to waste a drop before she slowly pulled away with a soft pop, discreetly wiping her lips as she sat back on her heels with a small smile at her utterly spent cowboy.
"After everything...this is how I go," Rick rasped out, dropping his head back against the sofa in exhilarated exhaustion basking in the feeling of being completely boneless.
"And leave me with two kids, I don't think so," Michonne returned, slowly rising to her feet.
Rick chuckled as he lazily reached for her. Michonne climbed over him, straddling his lap and he leaned forward to claim her lips as soon as she was close enough.
He kissed her with abandon, tasting himself on her lips. Michonne giggled against him, taken aback with his fervor but relishing in it nonetheless.
"You are perfect, do you know that?" he asked, pulling back with a matching smile as his fingers trailed up and down her spine.
"We both know that's not true," she modestly returned, smoothing the hair back from his face.
"It is to me," he told her.
Michonne knew better to argue with him, instead she kissed his forehead and said, "You're perfect to me, too."
Rick sighed contentedly, leaning back into the cushions with her in his arms. "How long do you think we can hide out here?"
Michonne shrugged, resting her head in the crook of his shoulder. "Until we're summoned, I'd imagine."
"Think we have time for another round?"
Michonne turned her face into his chest to hide her laughter. "We were instructed to clean up and you're insisting on us getting dirty."
"And if I really had my way, we wouldn't stop until every room in this place was just as filthy as us," he returned, leaning her back into the armrest of the sofa like a predator would its prey.
Michonne laughed at his insatiability, cupping his face as he captured her lips. "You're incorrigible," she giggled against him.
"I'm making up for lost time," he told her, trailing his kisses from her lips down her clavicle.
"As much as I would love that," she returned, gasping as he sucked and kissed his way down her skin, "we...we really don't have time..."
Her protests, feeble as they were, died on her lips as Rick ventured further down towards the slopes of her breasts.
It was easy to once again lose themselves in the moment, but a light knocking on the door just a few feet away swiftly brought them back to reality.
"Rick? Michonne? You guys in there?"
Rick buried his face into Michonne's chest and groaned, causing Michonne to softly laugh. "Maybe if we stay quiet, he'll go away," he whispered, tilting his head to look up at her.
Michonne stroked his beard affectionately, knowing that was unlikely. "The sooner we get this over with, the sooner we can go home."
"Um, guys?" Jesus called again with another few taps.
"Why is it always him?" Rick muttered, slowly untangling himself from his girlfriend before extending a hand to help her stand as well.
Michonne sighed, shaking her head. "Just a minute," she called over her shoulder before turning back to Rick. "To be continued?"
Rick grinned at the prospect as he re-buckled his gun belt. "I'm looking forward to it."
Michonne smirked in satisfaction as she turned towards. She opened the door to reveal a mildly dubious looking Jesus, with Abraham leering behind him grinning wider than a Cheshire cat.
"So how'd you like the drawing room?" Jesus inquired, with an arched brow.
"It's very clean," Michonne noted, exiting the room with Rick not far behind.
"Or at least it was," he snorted under his breath, closing the door behind them.
Michonne bit her lip averted her gaze upward, mostly to avoid Jesus and Abraham's eyebrow raises.
"Where is everyone?" she asked, eager to get ahead of whatever crude remark was brewing in Abraham's mind.
"Downstairs, we were just waiting on you," Jesus said, leading them back towards the staircase.
Rick started to follow them when a heavy hand on his shoulder held him in place. He paused, turning to look at the taller ginger.
"I didn't get a chance to offer my congratulations on your unanticipated but exemplary choice in an apocalyptic match," Abraham started in a tone far more formal than the situation required. "I am both amazed and proud of your conquest."
Rick blinked, both speechless and confused. "Um...thank you?"
"You are most welcome," Abraham returned, brandishing a single cigar.
Rick exhaled a small laugh, shaking his head to politely decline. "No, thank you," he told him.
Abraham shrugged and returned the rolled tobacco to his person. "Suit yourself, but I will gladly spark one up in your honor," he said, heading down the steps behind the others.
Rick watched his friend descend the steps before he turned back to the drawing room, grinning smugly to himself as he closed the door.