chapter two
A thin stream of light spilled into the otherwise pitch black room, waking Michonne before she'd gotten the chance to fully fall asleep. It was hour thirteen of a twenty hour shift and she just needed a quick wink of sleep.
"Taken." She called out, peering into the bit of room exposed in the light, trying to catch a glimpse of whomever opened the door. The top bunk was technically open, but she was hoping to have the room to herself for just a bit longer.
The culprit slipped into the room, pushing the door closed behind him.
"That's what I was hoping for."
She smiled, scooting backward to make room on the already small bottom bunk of the bed. "Lock it." She mumbled, smiling at her unexpected visitor. With the door closed again, she couldn't see what was going on. She heard the fabric ruffle of what she'd assume was him removing his white coat, the rattle of a badge, and the clatter of shoes settling on the floor.
"Lock the door for what? You need rest." He protested even though the click of the lock let her know that he granted the request.
In near silence, his sock covered feet padded across the room toward her. The bed dipped and his scent enveloped her, causing her smile to grow even more. He never seemed to smell like scrub soap or hand sanitizer, like the other surgeons. They smelled sterile, always of soap and alcohol. Rick's smell was distinct. It was earthy, some sort of bergamot and sage scent from what she could tell. Michonne inhaled him. It was one of her favorite things to do whenever he was within her reach. Arms pulled her in and she was suddenly a giggling mess. "Rick..." She sighed out, pecking his lips. "I feel like I haven't seen you in so long."
"It's dark in here. You can't see me now." He replied jokingly, wishing he was able to see the annoyed look that inevitably found its way on to her face.
His lips were on her neck, peppering flirty kisses. "You're a busy lady, it seems I'm not the only one who wants your time. Have you heard anything?" He mumbled, finally placing a kiss on her lips.
She ignored his question and kissed him back, relishing in the feeling of his lips on her's. She'd missed him and she planned on enjoying this moment for however long they were allowed. In actuality, it hadn't been that long since they'd seen each other. They actually saw each other quite frequently; little glances in passing and longing looks when the other wasn't aware. Seeing each other definitely wasn't a problem. It was seeing each other when they couldn't be together. It was brushing arms when they passed each other in the halls, wanting to reach out and grab the other's hand. It was Rick listening to the other heads and attendings make inappropriate comments whenever they saw the way her scrubs hugged her backside, without being able to speak up. And it was Michonne watching hoards of thirsty nurses and interns not so subtly flirt with the unreasonably handsome Dr. Grimes.
Richard Grimes was the head of neonatal surgery. Saving newborns made him a god to patients. Crystal clear blue eyes and his affinity for winking them made him a god to women. And being damn good at his job made him the envy of nearly every attending in Golden Isles Children's Hospital. He was a few years short of a decade older than Michonne and, despite having been divorced for just as long, still trying to find his footing as a single father. When the pair had met, there was a tangible tension between them. Instant and white hot. But she was young and a resident. And Rick, the most desired man in eastern Georgia, was technically in charge of her. So, they kept it professional. Dancing around each other, tempting the flames and backing away until, one day, they couldn't anymore. It was never meant to carry on for as long as it had. This thing that they'd never defined should've been one night. It was inappropriate. That's what they'd told each other and themselves. Then, one night turned into two. And two turned into breaks spent in on-call rooms and quickies in shower stalls. It turned into two am drinks and burgers in whatever seedy dive bar was open when their shifts were done. It turned into Rick flipping through hundreds of color coded flash cards to ready Michonne for her boards. It turned into a drawer of her belongings at Rick's place evolving into half of his closet holding her belongings. It turned into Carl, Rick's son, swapping comics with Michonne and Rick somehow being the odd man out in the trio. It turned into stronger feelings than either had admitted to. It turned into this moment right now.
"You have heard something, then." He posed quickly, not letting her not-so-subtle attempts at distraction work.
Michonne moved to straddle him, making the best of the minimal room she had with the top bunk hovering so low. She was hunched over in a position that would make her mother question the debutante lessons she'd paid for. She smiled to herself, suddenly thankful that the uniforms she saw too much of were so easily removed. Forgoing any theatrics that would be lost to the shadowy blackness of the room, she pulled her top over her head and hooked it behind Rick's neck. Her lips found his, but she didn't kiss him just yet. With the huskiest voice she could muster, she breathed out and mumbled against his mouth.
"I can think of so many things for us to do right now. And none of them involve talking, Dr. Grimes." It was a low blow. Dr. Grimes. It was the quickest way to turn him on. She knew it would shut him up. Her tongue swiped at his lips before she began leaving a trail of kisses. She kissed from his closely cropped beard toward his ear, giving the lobe a gentle nip. The kisses down his neck were more aggressive, nearly leaving evidence.
"Michonne-"
"Hm?" She hummed in her most innocent tone, switching over to the other side of his neck. Dr. Grimes always worked. He shouldn't even be coherent right now. He shouldn't remember her name. She scooted forward, settling herself squarely the burgeoning tent in the front of his forest green scrubs. Michonne started rocking herself back and forth. She kept it at a painstakingly slow pace and snaked a hand up the bottom of his shirt. Her nails scraped down his lean stomach muscles and she could feel them contract as he sucked in a heavy, shaky breath.
"We have to talk about it at some point." Rick's voice was strained.
"About what?" She questioned, impishly. "About this?" Her hand crept into his pants, stroking through the material of his boxer briefs. She brought Rick's hand up to her chest. "Or this?"
A caveman like grunt escaped Rick's lips and before Michonne could even register what was happening, she was beneath him. Both of her wrists were held hostage by one of his hands and he pressed his weight into her. "Don't. Move. An. Inch."
Rick was across the room in the blink of an eye. He flicked the light switch, crossed his arms and leaned against the wall next to it, finally getting a good look at his seducer.
The equally flustered duo stared at each other; Rick with tousled hair and jutting fabric at the front of his pants, and Michonne with heavy breathing and bra straps hanging from her shoulders. Her eyes flicked down toward his crotch, but he didn't make any efforts to hide his excitement. She quirked an eyebrow and following his lead, deciding against covering her lace covered bust.
Michonne sat up and crossed her legs. She balled her shirt up and pulled it into her lap. "Will you come back over here?"
He shook his head.
"You're being very dramatic…" She trailed off, swinging her legs off the bed. "Dr. Grimes."
"No-" Rick was suddenly serious. "Michonne, it's happening. Whether we talk about it or not, it's happening."
Michonne sat back down and covered her face with the balled up scrub top. She threw herself down with a soft thud. Her locs creating a halo around her, while she gathered herself to speak the words she'd been avoiding "I passed my boards."
Rick nodded her along, as if to say 'water is wet'. There wasn't a possible outcome that involved Michonne not passing the boards. She was brilliant- way smarter than him. Despite the years and experience he had on her. He was willing to gamble that she could've passed the boards as a med student, if she'd been given the chance. That wasn't what he was questioning. "And your fellowship?"
There it was. That was the question he'd been dying to ask and the same on she'd been avoiding. Even though they weren't meant to, deep feelings had rooted the pair together. The night they'd decided to change their dynamic, neither could have guessed where it would take them. But here they were, nearly a year later. He'd been the one up late studying with her. The one writing pros and cons lists while she decided what hospitals to apply for fellowship at. And now, he was the one standing with his heart in his throat, while the very real possibility that she may be walking out of his life had finally gotten too close to ignore.
"There's six to choose from." She told him quietly.
Rick walked toward her silently and pulled the top from over her eyes. He whipped it out in front of himself in an attempt to knock the creases she'd put in it when she balled it up. "You're gonna be wrinkled." He mumbled, more to himself than to her. She was looking at him curiously while he laid the top out on the top bunk and smoothed his hands along the lavender fabric. He let out a deep sigh and met her eyes. Rick jutted his chin out, signaling her to scoot closer to the wall. Once again, Rick climbed into the bunk, choosing to face her this time. With his eyes staring directly into her's and his thumb rubbing reassuring circles just above the waistline of her pants, he began talking again.
"How many are you really deciding between?" She was so calculated and sure of herself, they both knew there was no way that she didn't know exactly what she wanted. Six was way too high a number. When she didn't respond, Rick was sure that she knew. Their eye contact never broke, almost as if the words they spoke were only half of the conversation being had.
"Two?" He questioned.
She nodded.
"Here and San Diego?" He posed, already knowing the answer to this question was also yes. It had always been between Golden Isles and Riverside, the dominating medical center that had earned the honor of top teaching hospital twelve years in a row. The others she'd applied to had just been backups that she didn't really need. Rick told her it wasn't necessary, that she could apply to he first choice and they'd offer her the world to be a fellow with them. She'd been the one to insist on other hospitals, mostly to make her colleagues feel better.
Michonne wrapped her own arms around him, suddenly chilly without her shirt. He immediately pulled her into him, settling her head against his chest. "What would you do?" She mumbled.
"You know I can't make the choice for you."
"I just want your opinion."
This moment hurt. This moment was the reason they'd been avoiding the conversation. Even though it was verging on a year that they'd been together, the pair had kept it light. It was unspoken between them. Don't get too attached. The age difference and professional relationship made it inappropriate enough to the outside eye. When you factored in the fact there was a deadline- that Michonne had the world at her fingertips and Rick's whole world was in Georgia; they'd known it had to be temporary.
Rick absentmindedly wrapped one of her locs around his ring finger, searching for the best way to come out of this with the least amount of pain on both sides. "I'm biased." He told her, his lips against her forehead. "It wouldn't be fair."
"It would be fair because I'm asking. I value your opinion. I care about what you think."
Her hand slipped under his scrub top, snaking its way up his back. Her other hand playing with the loose ringlets at the nape of his neck while she waited on his response. His heartbeat sped up, thudding rhythmically against her temple. "Please?" She pleaded in a whisper, her lips barely opening to let the single word escape on a whispered prayer.
There was a surrendering sigh and a beat of silence while Rick gathered his words. His brain ran through dozens of responses. He could ask her to stay. Finally tell her he was in love. That he didn't want to know what his life would look like without her. Partly because he'd gotten so used to her presence, but mostly because he'd already envisioned their future. He wanted everything with her. The wedding and honeymoon. The house and kids. Chubby babies with her eyes and her smile and her brains. Or if she didn't want babies, they'd get cats. Whatever; Rick didn't care. He just wanted her in his life for the rest of it. He'd even looked at rings on a whim one particularly difficult weekend where he felt like he was failing as a surgeon and as a father. Just being in her presence and hearing her voice brought him back down. He'd scoured a few sites, finding a problem with every ring before deciding that whatever ended up on her finger had to be one of a kind- because she was one of a kind. She was so special, so bright, so unique. Who was he to interfere? How could he be the one to influence her when she deserved so much more than his little town in Georgia could offer her? But he couldn't lie to her. So he just stated facts, keeping his emotions far away from his reply.
"You've wanted to go to Riverside for how long now? That's been the dream."
"Dreams change." Michonne told him, simply. She stared up at him, her brown eyes the most open and honest he'd ever seen them.
She was looking at him like he'd hung the moon and Rick had no choice but to kiss her. He nudged her onto her back and settled himself between her legs. Rick ran his tongue from between her breasts up to her jawline, leaving a wet trail before he clamped his mouth over her's. He claimed her. This kiss- his mouth crushed against hers, the lack of oxygen and labored breathing, his hand tangled in her locs while the other tugged on the drawstring of her pants- this was her answer. His kiss said things his brain wouldn't allow him to verbalize. She tugged her pants down, wriggling awkwardly under his weight on the twin sized bed. This was how they would have to communicate, with their senses so heightened that they had no choice but to tell the truth. They were forced to lay it all out in the open.
Sitting back on his haunches, Rick pulled his own shirt off. He sat for a moment, admiring the woman before him. She laid there beneath him with her lips slightly parted and her eyes roving over him. God, he loved her so much. She finally maneuvered the pants to her ankles and kicked her feet, sending them flying- forgotten somewhere between the bunkbed and the wall. Taking her in, Rick couldn't help but to give himself a tug through the thin material of his pants. Her black thong, complete with strings so thin they were nearly invisible matched the black lace of her bra. She was always dressed like she knew an impromptu meeting would occur, like she anticipated it. Michonne reached between them, trying to rid him of his own scrub pants, but Rick shook his head. Before her hands could reach him, he pushed them away and leaned forward. This moment was not about him- not his future, not his decisions, not his pleasure. She was his sole focus. The only thing that mattered.
He pushed her legs further apart, settling one on each of his thighs. His fingers, skilled and steady from years of performing surgeries, ghosted her center. The string of her thong was nestled into her folds, hiding absolutely nothing and getting slicker with her wetness by the second. "Tell me how your dreams changed, baby." Michonne's hands shot up, grasping at the bars on the bottom of the top bunk to steady herself while his fingers finally plunged into her. He pumped slowly at first, just two fingers in and out at a painstaking pace. Michonne whimpered, trying desperately to meet his hand and up the speed but his other hand was firm on her stomach to keep her in place. He added a third finger, his pace still maddeningly slow but he began to curve them and hit spots he knew sent her wild.
"Rick, baby…" She started breathily but the words got lost and her eyes fluttered shut.
He failed to fight off a smirk smirk. "Hey, uh-uh open your eyes." Rick's voice beckoned her with a gentle authority. "Look at me. How did your dreams change?"
Michonne forced her eyes to stay open and lock her gaze on him. She really took him in before she answered- they way the clear cerulean of his eyes was almost lost to his dilated pupils, the red blush creeping from his chest up his necks, the way his nostrils flared as he tried to keep his composure. He raised his eyebrow in challenge and circled his thumb over her clit as he waited for his answer. "I…fuck…" Her voice was breathy as her climax started to build. "I want to be the best."
"You will be. That hasn't changed." He added pressure to her clit, speeding his movements up. She rides his hand, shaking and on the verge of tears while her pleasure overcame her. Rick licked his fingers clean before slanting his lips over hers, stifling the moans that accompanied her orgasm. Michonne's arms are snaked around his neck, not trusting herself to keep quiet if their lips were to detach. She wedges her hand in between them, desperate for his cock but Rick still shakes his head. She can feel his smile grow against her lips. "You still haven't answered my question, Doctor."
Normally the title doesn't do much for Michonne. She's not Rick, not an egotistical man driven by the praise of others. But there is something exhilarating about a man who is so brilliantly gifted and talented, a man who could have anyone but chose her, about a man who is absolutely the love of her life and so obviously aroused by her using the title that she's worked so hard to earn. Rick pushed her hand away, instead using his own to free himself from his underwear. He clumsily shoved them down and his cock, red and straining slaps against his taut stomach. Though he was annoyed at her earlier behavior, he's thankful that it forced his hand in turning the light on. He loves looking at her, loves seeing every inch of her, loves watching her watch him. Balancing on one elbow, Rick leaned down keeping his face centimeters from Michonne's. He gripped his member, lazily sliding it up and down between Michonne's still-wet pussy lips. "What else do you want, Chonne? What's your dream?" He used her slick as lube, slowly jacking himself and not giving Michonne what she so desperately craved. She bit her lip, the words lost in her arousal. Rick lined himself up, stretching her open with just the tip of his dick. He fucked into her, keeping his strokes shallow and slow-never going beyond the head. He needed her to answer quickly or he'd lose himself.
"I want…" She tried to replace his hand with hers but he swats her away, his hand now fisted around the base. His thrusted deeper, just up to his fist but still not bottoming out in her. Michonne's voice is breathy when she finally speaks "I want us both to be Dr. Grimes…but I wanna be the best Dr. Grimes."
She caught him off guard and Rick's hand faltered at her confession, his grip loosened just for a second but she took advantage. Michonne wrapped her legs around his waist and pulled him flush to her. Rick stilled, finally filling Michonne to the hilt.
"Shit." "Fuck." They gasp out simultaneously, both adjusting to the fullness. "Rick, fuck baby. Baby, you have to move."
Rick looked down at her, dazed and began rocking his hips. He attached his lips to her nipple, gently biting and then blowing on her peaked buds. "You gotta.." He nearly pulls out all the way. "...go to…" He slams back in."...California." He spit on two fingers and assaults her clit, rubbing in quick brutal circles. "To be the best. Can't..hold…you..back." Rick is out of breath and out of his mind. He gave up on talking, instead opting to grunt into Michonne's neck while he pounds into her.
She's coming again and he's lucky she has to keep her nails short for surgery or he'd be bleeding from the way she raked her fingers over him. Michonne could feel tears welling in her eyes and doesn't know the cause. It could be the back to back orgasms or the sleep deprivation or the fact that Rick is telling her to go when all she wanted to hear was him asking her to stay. After she laid herself bare, he tells her to leave? No.
"Richard." She put both of her hands on either side of his face, pulling him up to look at her. Her hips move in rhythmic circles, coaxing his finish and she doesn't break eye contact. "Come for me. Come with me."
His eyebrows raised in question. "Yeah?" He questions quietly on an exhale.
It was a deliberate choice of words. They both knew it.
She nods, her bottom lip folded between her teeth. "Yes, Rick."
He gripped her hips so tightly she'd probably bruise and starts to ram into her repeatedly. The sound of their flesh meeting could probably be heard from the hall, but he's too far gone to slow it down. She released something animalistic in him. He's mesmerized, watching his cock covered in both of their essences gliding in and out of Michonne's core. Her thighs are trembling, fighting to hold off her third orgasm. Rick can tell she overstimulated, her senses on overdrive.
"Chonne, baby. I'm close." He kissed her neck and then her chin and finally her lips. Her hips are moving so fast, she's nearly vibrating.
"Me, too." She whimpered and buried her face against his sweat slick chest. A few open mouth kisses and three final thrusts have her begging. Their eyes meet and she's asking permission.
"Together?" His gruff voice huffed, needing this release as much as she does. He doesn't know exactly what he's requesting in that moment. Come undonetogether? Make the decision together? Move across the country together? Build a life together? Grow old together? Take on anything coming their way together? So many questions bundled in the single word he threw out in the heat of passion. He can't pinpoint which is the most important to him, but he knows the way she cries "yes" and moves her lips across his as they both find their release is the answer to every single one.