Can't Help It… If I Wanted To
"LeBron is the greatest basketball player of all time."
That one statement created a cacophony of disorder in the already rowdy barbershop. Everyone leapt in to give their opinions on the subject.
"What? You're buggin'!"
"He's got the longevity! Averaging thirty points per game even in his twentieth season. And it's ongoing!" T-Dog continued his argument.
"Jordan has ten, count them ten scoring titles and the highest career average in NBA history." Tyreese the shop owner countered.
"What about LeBron's rebounds, assists, three pointers-" Noah added.
"Yeah and what about Jordan's overall points, steals. Man, if he didn't retire when he did, who knows what his stats would be!" Oscar contributed.
"See everybody wanna add hypothetical… possible… maybe achievements. We are talking about what actually occurred, not ya'll fantasies." T-Dog huffed before a slight lull overtook the place and the actual work continued.
Tyreese paused the shapeup he was administering, turning to the center of the space. "Imma just say one thing. Championships!"
"Man!" another round of intense but jovial discussion was provoked with customers and barbers alike jumping in to give their sides in the lively dispute.
"Michonne! What do you think?"
The fellas turned to the only female barber in the decades old shop. She chuckled with appreciation. There was a time when her opinion would not have been requested let alone the shop giving her their undivided attention to hear it. But she had earned their respect in more ways than one.
"M.J. was an inspiration for many. Like LeBron said, he was lightning in a bottle and he wanted to be like him. With that being the case, are you ever looking to usurp your idol. Being compared to The GOAT has to be life affirming." she shrugged and Ty pointed his clipper wielding hand at her while the Michael Jordan siders clapped. Even the LeBron James defenders had to nod their heads in settlement.
The business of providing haircuts to anyone that walked in and was ready to pay proceeded with smaller chatter. At any moment a joke would be cracked on someone to arouse a round of stomach cramping and teary eyed laughter. It was taken in stride because it was mostly all in love and fun. But in the times it got out of hand, Tyreese was ready to step in. He was the loveable chocolate teddy bear of an owner that could become a grizzly bear when necessary. Michonne considered him her play cousin after becoming best friends with his younger bossier sister, Sasha years ago.
Sasha had bullied Ty into giving Michonne a shot in his all-male establishment. It having been passed down by their father when he retired and his father before him. And its booths were always rented to men, even in the 1970's when an influx of women entered to get their afro's shaped. But the recent evolution of hair had Michonne proving that she could show out on not just women's styles but on every and anyone's. She'd proved herself to become one of the top barbers in not just the shop or neighborhood but the state. People viewed her skills on social media and made appointments in advance keeping her booked and busy.
Michonne loved it. Being mostly her own boss and building her clientele along with the camaraderie. There was Oscar a russet complected husky guy with a smooth bald head, mirroring the clean shaven head of the other man in the booth across from him, T-Dog. A gap toothed sweetheart that drove the church van transporting elders on select evenings and Sundays.
They were the regulars but apprentices came and went. Some growing in skill while others fizzled out. Noah, a lanky young man that was a bit awkward started out sweeping floors but now attempted to gain traction after earning a spot. Well, that was if he could get anyone in his chair again. One mishap on someone mane could get you blacklisted. A little too high on one shapeup and the poor young brother's seat remained ice cold most days. But Michonne admired his dedication, he didn't let the guys get to him- too much. He brought in friends and family to practice on until the thaw would eventually began.
Michonne's seat sat empty currently. She checked her cellphone again for any text messages to find during the discussion she had finally received one.
'Girl, there's a fire'
Michonne couldn't do anything but snicker before deciding to straighten her station up. Tyreese looked to her with curiosity. She shook her head side to side and he just lightheartedly shrugged. The usual from his baby sister even if it wasn't her fault, her occupation making her cancel abruptly. Michonne didn't mind it today, she liked to tidy when she had pressing matters on her mind. Being busy meant for a good excuse to defer.
She had stepped in the back to refill some supplies but she could hear the bell chime as the front door opened. It was approaching closing time and she knew the guys would more than likely be telling whomever it was to come back tomorrow. They were each finishing up on their last customers for the evening.
"You uh… need some help?" T-Dog asked.
"Yeah, I need a haircut."
The unfamiliar person's voice was a bit nervy yet tickled at Michonne's ears with its smooth Southern tone. There was a pregnant pause she did understand. The man who entered was more than likely not Black if one had to judge from voice alone. But she snickered before listening more intensely for Oscar's eventual response.
"There's some salons across town."
"Yeah, way across town but I wasn't looking for a salon. I need a barber." the man stated more determinedly.
"We do fades, shapeups, tapers, lineups, waves. Afros. I don't think you are looking for what we do for… your hair."
"Look, I just need a barber that can fix a problem with my hair."
Michonne stealthily lifted a blade on the blinds that covered the glass window on the door to sneak a peek. With his back facing her, she could tell he was a few inches taller than her. Slim and perhaps with a toned build from what she could gather at her vantage point. Curves to his denim jean clad legs lead to- cowboy boots? Yeah, he was definitely in the wrong place.
"What's the problem?" Tyreese finally chimed in.
With an exasperated sigh, the stranger removed the baseball cap he wore. The men all gasped and lurched back as though repulsed.
"Ohh!"
"Gotdamn!"
"Shit!"
"Who did that to you?"
Were the responses that had Michonne openly chuckling so the stranger slightly pivoted as her laughter echoing through the door. But he turned back when Noah stepped forward with his chest poked out.
"I can take you." he dusted off his chair and the desperate man swiveled to begin his approach before a chorus of yells sprang forward in harmony, halting him.
"No!"
"Hell nah!" T-Dog shouted while Noah's eyes squinted in irritated annoyance.
"Now, look man. We don't know you from a can of paint but, we can't in good conscience let you get further butchered." Tyreese proclaimed and all the men laughed except of course Noah and the new guy who was clearly confused.
Michonne had heard enough and decided to finally step in to see the damage herself. She opened the door still snickering as she returned to the floor. The stranger turned his head in her direction. Their eyes connected, having them both doing a double take. Michonne wasn't going to lie as she pushed past her faltered step, this man was attractive. Attractive wasn't quite enough, he was the finest white man she'd ever laid her brown eyes on.
And he studied her equally with his captivating blue eyes as she rounded him, sending a tingle through her invigorated body. Don't get her wrong for as many years as she could remember regarding her beauty, men had let her know in numerous fashions. From subtle to overt and at times, downright obnoxious and creepy. It hadn't given her an inflated image of herself. She just knew her appeal. Yet she didn't know what the hell this was occurring between them. Well, she had an idea, but it was very bewildering as she hadn't felt such an instantaneous magnetism to anyone in quite some time.
She had to take a deep steading breath when she came to stand before him. His gaze concentrated solely on her face tracing its delicate contours. The energy thick in the air that she had to fight to formulate a question.
"Can I?" she slowly raised her left hand in order for him to understand. The man simply nodded as though unable to speak suddenly. His previous impassioned pleas silenced while he held his baseball cap in wait.
Michonne didn't know why she was abruptly nervous but she hesitated lifting her hand further to reach his curls. It was almost as though she knew the connection would set her on a wayward course. Yet she pushed through because she was a professional. He was just a man. A beautiful man that was giving her his undivided, awestruck attention all while his Adams apple bobbed from a swallow.
His eyes rolled closed when her fingers made contact with his extra-long chestnut curls. A chunk was indeed missing making one lopsided side and she giggled timidly. It seemed the best way to release the pent up- she had to admit sexual verve. But his eyes popped open more penetrating than before, transfixing her with their overt yearning. A coy but self-conscious smile playing at his lips.
"I need your help." was all he muttered yet it struck her being, ultimately finding it's home, sinking into her core.
It almost felt like time stood still as their chests rose and fell together, her digits still in his hair. "I- I can fix it."
'Cough cough'
T-Dog's uneasy, sudden expulsions of air knocked them back to reality. Michonne promptly lowered her hand and they stumbled into taking a step away from one another. The other barbers went back to their prior tasks, really to escape the currents now coursing unpredictably through the shop.
Michonne exhaled and headed to the booth space she rented monthly. She could hear Mr. Blue Eyes following but she just began to set up her station needing a moment to get her facilities back in order. He was just a man in need of a haircut, she kept repeating in her head. A beautiful, sexy man. She huffed at herself keeping her back to him. But she could feel his presence enveloping her with its expectation.
"Should I sit?" his whiskeyed voice beckoned her attention but she just patted her leather chair in response.
He climbed in and got comfortable before she finally turned, using the hydraulics system to adjust the chair height where she needed it to be. All while, Michonne applied the collar and cape that would help keep the cut strands from covering his clothes, she told herself that she was a skilled barber. But the way he watched her movements- she needed to get a grip. And that's just what she did. Weaving her fingers through his hair again and this time she knew she heard him lightly groan.
'Don't overthink it. Being pampered feels good.' she tried to convince herself even while she used the pretense of determining styling options for his mishap to satiate her desire to touch him. His curls were quite long, sweeping his shoulders and flopping to his ears. Even more so when she stretched them out.
"Do you normally wear them this long?"
"Wear what?" he asked confusedly.
"Your curls?"
He snickered in the cutest eye crinkling manner. "Oh, no. I've kind of just let them get away from me." he sobered and she knew there was a deeper reason.
"But I've got an important meeting tomorrow morning. It's the reason I wanted to return some order to it all."
"I get it." Michonne continued to examine his handsome face in the guise of figuring out what to do. "I'll have to go slightly shorter just to cover this up." she tugged at the shorter part and his eyes rolled shut again.
"I trust you." he all but whispered through his surprisingly full pink lips.
Michonne needed to shift this conversation swiftly because she felt something blooming in her from the last words he'd spoken. "That's not saying much. You were about to get in Noah's chair."
He chuckled as well as the other men at the young barber's expense causing Noah to roll his eyes. But Michonne confirmed what she suspected, that the shop inhabitants were indeed ear hustling the exchange between her and the new patron. When she sharply turned around, some of them openly gawked. She glowered at them until they got the message to continue their own business. Low conversations commenced before the man in her chair spoke drawing her attention.
"Well, then maybe I should ask for your credentials."
He looked to her expectantly and she knew he wanted to know more than that. "I'm a licensed beautician and barber. Don't worry, I've got experience on your texture of hair or- lack thereof from school." she grinned and he snickered while nodding his authorization.
Michonne picked up a pair of shears but his eyes remained on hers. "Still, I should probably look you up myself. You know just to be safe."
She smirked placing her hands on her hips. "I thought you trusted me?"
"Never can be sure." He smiled so it reached his dazzling eyes. "What's your name?"
She unwillingly, coquettishly giggled from his charms. "Michonne." she mouthed slowly in order for him to know how to pronounce it correctly before he repeated it back to her.
"Michonne." every syllable rolled sweetly past his lips. Then he quickly licked them as though he wanted to taste it as well. And a bewildering wetness threatened her panties.
A haircut.
A haircut is what this man came in for she reminded herself. That's all she could provide either way and she began to do just that. Swiftly swiveled the chair thus facing him towards the mirrored wall, allowing her to begin at the back of his head.
"Don't you want to know my name?" he attempted to interrupt but she forged on snipping his locs.
"Sure." she threw out, pretending to be deep in the zone but he just chuckled more than likely seeing through her charade.
"I'm Rick. Rick Grimes."
Michonne paused her trimming and locked eyes with him in the mirrored reflection. "First and last name, huh."
"What's wrong with that?" he rose a perplexed eyebrow a bit subconsciously.
"Nothing. You just said your name like you're a celebrity or something." she shrugged trying to keep her playful grin from expanding while Rick held back a laugh.
"No, I just… wanted to you know is all." he smiled genuinely.
"Well, now I know. Should I tell everyone?"
His eyes popped open wildly when she turned to address the other occupants in varying stages of finishing up their clients or cleaning their respective areas.
"Fellas…" they all turned to Michonne responsively. "I'm cutting the hair of The Famous Rick Grimes." she stated his forename in a sultry manner.
The men all burst out laughing and so did Rick. So much so that tears sprang to his eyes that he needed to drab at with the backs of his hands. Michonne did enjoy the fact he could take a good ribbing and she waited for him to regain his composure.
"Can I continue, Rick Grimes?"
His eyes twinkled paralleling hers before he nodded. "Yes, Michonne."
AN:~~***
Usually I have cover art to go with my stories that I post on twitter and sometimes tumblr, but this time I was stumped. I even told Arlene the concept at NYCC and she was stumped also lol The inspiration for this story came from the press junkets during Andy's last season *le sigh* But during that interview, you know the one *smirk* where Danai is tracing her finger through the side of his haircut. I always wanted to write something based on that and one day this idea just came to me. But then I had to work out how the hell it could make sense while also being perhaps messy. Let me know in your review, what you think the cover could be. I'd love to hear your thoughts on where you think this will go also.
Also the response to Private Dancer was amazeballs and really had me wanting to get my ass back to work writing. I just wanted to say how much I appreciate your support through my writing journey. We will continue to Keep Richonne Alive b4 and after The Ones Who Live. For how ever many seasons they grace us with because we are the assholes who get what they want lmao