A/N: Hope you enjoy the update! If you do, leave a comment and let me know!
29. Bitches Be Crazy (part 7)
"Yo, Rick… Michonne'll help you get dressed, but I need her for a minute first. She's gotta help me with some shit."
Daryl didn't wait for Rick to acknowledge what he said. He curled his hands around my shoulders from behind me and forced me to start walking to the bedroom hallway. Rick didn't say anything when Daryl pushed me past him. He just stared at me with disappointment etched all over his face.
His eye that wasn't almost swollen shut? Filled with disappointment.
His lips? Pressed together into a tight line of disappointment.
His eyebrows? Furrowed in disappointment.
I felt terrible.
Even though I didn't believe in silly pet names, Rick was technically my shmoopykins now, and letting down my shmoopykins made my stomach churn.
My feet felt more and more like lead with every step I was forced to take, but Daryl didn't allow me to stop walking. He pushed me into the guest room at the end of the hallway and directed me to the bed.
"Sit down," he mumbled, dropping his hands from my shoulders.
I didn't sit down. I whirled around in a state of distress and looked into Daryl's calm eyes.
"I fucked up," I whispered.
He grunted in agreement.
"I really fucked up."
Daryl grunted in agreement again.
"That's not helping!" I whisper-shouted in a panic.
"What else am I supposed to say, 'Chonne? No one told you to leave the house at three in the mornin' actin' like the damn Hamburglar!"
Oh my God!
I did not have the energy to explain to this man that I was not dressed like the damn Hamburglar.
"Say something to make me feel better, Daryl! Now," I demanded. "Please."
"You know he ain't gonna stay mad at you," he grumbled, rolling his eyes. "If you were already at the farm, thangs would be different. You ain't at the farm. Rick just needs a few minutes to calm down. I bought you a few minutes bringin' you back here. Sit down and quit bein' dramatic."
Dramatic?
The man who was waiting on my porch at three o'clock in the morning… in the pitch black… wearing nothing but his underwear was calling me dramatic?
"Yeah, I am," Daryl grumbled. He poked the middle of my chest with his index finger, forcing me to sit on the bed.
Rude.
Daryl walked to the walk-in closet, which was filled with spare clothes for him, the Greenes and Glenn, and reappeared a few moments later wearing his black robe.
"These mine?" he asked, holding up a pair of black slippers.
"D," I said in a quiet, pained voice, "what if Rick doesn't want me to be his snookyookums anymore?"
Daryl took a step back and stared at me with his face scrunched into a sour scowl. "His snookywhatums?!"
I groaned and flopped back on the bed. "Forget it," I mumbled.
Daryl was probably right about Rick needing a few minutes to calm down, and it was smart of him to have pushed me out the front room to give Rick his space. I'd wait a few more minutes, then I'd go help him get dressed, then we'd talk through his disappointment, and then we'd leave for the farm. Together.
I squeezed my eyes shut, flung my arm over them, and groaned again.
Everything was going to be fine.
I hoped.
"'Chonne... sorry I tried givin' you a noogie," Daryl murmured.
I pulled my arm away from my eyes and turned my head to look at Daryl. I appreciated his apology.
I, on the other hand, was not about to apologize for trying to give him a wedgie—that was his own fault for making me think he was going to noogie me. But I did feel bad about snitching.
"It wasn't my place to tell Rick what you did with your ass back in high school. I shouldn't have said anything. I'm sorry."
Daryl accepted my apology with a slight nod and then proceeded to ruin our reconciliatory moment by saying with absolutely no shame at all, "I ain't sorry I snitched."
I started to glare at Daryl but stopped myself to sit up and turn towards him first so that he could feel the full weight of my glare.
He looked like he couldn't care less about my glare.
"You should be thankin' me for snitchin'," he grumbled. "I'll wait for it."
Ha!
Daryl was hilarious.
He was also going to be waiting forever for that thank you.
"Snitches normally get stitches not thank yous," I deadpanned.
"Yeah, well, snitchin' to protect you from you is a snitchin' exception. You're welcome."
Daryl may have been right, but he was still wrong. I gave him an exceptionally long eye roll.
He looked like he couldn't care less about my eye roll.
"Hey, is there any spaghetti left?" he asked, confirming that he didn't care about my eye roll.
He was lucky I loved him so much because he's the only snitch I would feed after snitching on me.
"Yes," I sighed. "There's plenty of spaghetti. There's also garlic bread and salad if you want to make yourself a full meal."
I smiled when Daryl's face lit up. His favorite meal of the week was Spaghetti Tuesday on Wednesdays.
"You know you could've come over and had dinner with us," I told him.
Daryl stared at me like I said "snookyookums" again. "Nah, I don't gotta do that kumbaya shit with blondie. That's on you and Rick. You're the parents. I'm the fun uncle."
"You're the Funcle, huh?" I asked, grinning.
"Yep."
Daryl beamed with pride. I let him look proud for a few more seconds.
"Too bad Funcle D sounds like an infection that needs to be treated with medicated cream."
I was doing my best to hold in a loud cackle when something fuzzy softly hit me in the chest. I looked down when it landed in my lap.
It was a slipper.
"Seriously, Daryl?!"
I picked the slipper up to throw at him, but he already had his other slipper in hand ready to throw at me.
"Drop it!" I whispered.
"You drop it!" he whispered.
Neither of us dropped our slippers.
I narrowed my eyes. "I'll drop mine if you drop yours," I proposed.
Daryl narrowed his eyes and grunted. "We drop the slippers on three."
"Alright," I agreed. "One… two…"
I hurled my slipper in a sneak attack, which Daryl was ready for. He swatted the slipper down, let out a delighted grunt when it hit the floor, and threw his slipper at me. I dodged it and let out a squeal of delight when it sailed past me and hit the wall a few feet away.
Neither of us was aware of Rick standing in the bedroom doorway until we heard a knock on the open door.
Daryl and I both froze.
Rick had changed into a black tshirt, black basketball shorts, and black socks and shoes. The KC Sheriff's Department cap he had on was also black, and he wore it low, hiding his eyes.
The vibe he was giving off was… not good, not with that jawline so tense it could cut glass.
"Hey, man," Daryl murmured, sliding his foot into the slipper closest to him. He threw me a worried glance when he walked past me to get the other slipper.
Rick stood in the doorway, saying nothing.
Shit.
"What's up?" Daryl asked Rick once the other slipper was on.
Rick held the baby monitor out in Daryl's direction. "Will you keep an eye on Carl?"
Rick's voice was too calm, too low and too controlled for him to be anything but super pissed.
Shit!
Daryl threw me an even more worried glance on his way over to Rick. "Yep. I'll watch him."
Silence flooded the room after Daryl took the baby monitor. Rick stood statue-still with his arms crossed; Daryl looked down at the monitor; I sat upright on the edge of the bed, staring at Rick.
"I'm gettin' spaghetti," Daryl abruptly announced. "See ya, 'Chonne. Thanks for helpin' me with that shit I needed help with. See ya, Rick." He looked back at me as he was leaving the room and silently said, "He's PISSSSSSSED!"
I held in a sigh and nervously twisted the M charm of my necklace. Rick continued standing statue-still. His eyes may have been hidden, but I knew he was staring at me. I took a breath and stood.
"You didn't have to get dressed by yourself. I would've helped," I said softly.
Rick's jaw ticked and his crossed arms tightened over his chest. He was most definitely PISSSSSSSED.
Fuck.
"Nah, you wouldn't've. You were too busy in here helpin' Daryl with some shit," he said sarcastically. "And we don't wait for each other to do thangs. Do we, Michonne?"
I ignored the sarcastic thing he said because he did just catch me and Daryl at the start of a Slipper War. I couldn't ignore the second thing he said. It wasn't entirely fair, but it also wasn't entirely out of line.
"We should talk, Rick."
"We should. Where's Lori?"
Oh.
I meant talk about us. I didn't want to talk about Fucking Lori Grimes yet. Rick was not going to react well when I told him where she was.
But…
If I wanted to dig myself out of the hole I was sinking in, I needed to honestly answer whatever questions he asked.
I gripped my M charm tight.
"She's at the farm."
Rick didn't respond, but he didn't have to. His finger twitch spoke for him.
Fuck!
"Rick, I…"
I wasn't sure where to start to best explain the barn situation. Black-market horse tranquilizers and rodeo enemies made things so much more complicated.
"Thank you," Rick said in a voice that was still too calm, still too low and still too controlled. He dropped his crossed arms and left the room.
Fuck. Fuck! FUCK!
I had to fix this before Rick left.
I quickly rushed past him in the hallway and ran to the front room where I stood in front of the front door. Rick slowly limped into the room and picked up a folder that I hadn't noticed sitting on the arm of the couch. He didn't acknowledge me when he limped past me to get his keys from the entry table by the door. He didn't say anything after he limped over a few steps and stood in front of me.
I still wasn't able to see his eyes because of his cap.
His jaw was still primed to cut glass.
"Rick," I sighed, telling him I wanted to talk things out.
"Michonne," he replied flatly, telling me he wasn't interested in talking right now and was ready to leave.
I knew I couldn't block the door and force him to stay, but I could use my words and ask him.
"Can I have a minute, Rick? Please?"
Judging by the intensity of his silence, Rick wasn't willing to even give me another second.
I hated feeling so disconnected from him so soon after the joy of DNA Day. I hated that my choices had put this wedge between us. I hated having to accept that he didn't want to be around me right now.
I did accept it, though.
Rick wanted to leave, and I was going to have to watch him go.
Fuck.
"One minute," Rick whispered when I started to move aside.
My eyes widened in surprise, and I breathed out a deep sigh of relief. I should've taken a few seconds to think through what I wanted to say to him, but I blurted out the first thing that came to mind.
"What's in the folder?"
I didn't think Rick was going to answer, but after many beats of silence, he did.
"Papers," he grumbled.
Oh?
"What kind of papers?"
"Papers Lori needs to sign," he answered in an exasperated tone.
Before I could ask another question about the papers, Rick put the folder and his keys on the entry table and his hand flew to his cap. He adjusted the brim, revealing his eyes. I expected to find anger in them, but I only saw hurt.
"Do you not trust me, Michonne? Because I've done everythang I told you I would do when I was at your place the other mornin'. I changed the locks on the door. I scheduled Judy-pie's DNA test. I got in touch with a divorce attorney."
This time my eyebrows rose in surprise. I had no idea about the divorce attorney, but I never doubted his plans to get in touch with one.
"Of course, I trust you," I whispered. "I do."
"Then why didn't you tell me about Lori? Why does everyone know about Lori but me?" he whispered loudly. "I told you I was gonna handle her! You said you believed me!"
He pulled his cap down, covering his eyes again, but I'd caught the silent accusation in them.
He didn't believe that I believed in him.
"I believed you!" I whispered loudly. "I do believe you!"
I could only interpret Rick's silence in one way: He was doubting me.
"You don't believe me?!" I whisper-shouted. I pulled his cap off and tossed it to the couch in frustration. "Why can't me handling Fucking Lori Grimes in my way be completely independent of you handling Fucking Lori Grimes in your way? I just wanted to kick her ass in peace, Rick!"
"I know you, Michonne! You weren't goin' there just to kick her ass!" Rick whisper-shouted.
I opened my mouth to whisper-shout that he was wrong, but then I thought about what I'd asked Maggie to print for me.
Yes... there was more to it than me just kicking Fucking Lori Grimes' ass.
I closed my mouth.
And there was Rick's head tilt.
"When you snuck out your apartment, when you left me sleepin' alone in bed and came here to have it out with Lori, what did I say to you?"
I mentally ran through the heated conversation Rick and I had the first time I snuck out.
"What did I say, Michonne? Why was I upset?"
"You wanted to come over here and confront her together," I whisper-mumbled.
"That's right. I wanted it to be me and you. That's what I told you. I still wanted it to be me and you this time."
"And it still can be," I insisted.
"Nahhhh, you want it to just be you," he shot back, shaking his head. "And now it should just be me."
Oh my God!
Rick was being unreasonable! And he was being selfish! But those weren't exactly things I could point out when doing so would make me the pot in a pot-kettle situation.
Still, I couldn't help but feel frustrated.
"It's not a crime for me to kick her ass!" I whisper-shouted.
"It is literally a crime for you to kick Lori's ass when it's a premeditated ass kickin', Michonne!"
Well.
He had me there.
I looked away from him and began picking invisible lint from my top.
"Obviously, I didn't mean 'crime' in a lawful sense," I murmured. "I meant it in the karmic sense."
Rick's stare was all but burning a hole into me, but I ignored it until I was satisfied with the amount of invisible lint I'd picked off my top. I looked into Rick's unimpressed eyes and waited for him to say something.
He blinked slowly and blinked slowly again. "Obviously," he deadpanned.
I really, really wanted to roll my eyes, and I really, really had to dig deep not to. This conversation wasn't going well. I knew it was on me to be the bigger person to get us to a good place.
But I also didn't appreciate Rick's slow blinks or that condescending "obviously." As hard as I was trying, I couldn't keep my irritation bottled up.
"I'm. Tired. And. I'm. Horny. Richard! I was wrong! I admit that! I am sorry! I just want to be done with Fucking Lori Grimes!" I shouted.
"I. Am. Also. Tired. And. Horny. Michonne! I wanna be done with Lori, too! But I don't keep sneakin' out without you to be done with her!" Rick shouted.
"Hey! Mr. and Mrs. Tired and Horny!" Daryl hissed from the kitchen entryway. He was holding a plate with a mountain of spaghetti on it. "Keep it down or you're gonna wake up Carl! You know how cranky he gets, and I ain't stickin' around for it! I'll take my spaghetti and go home!"
I couldn't even roll my eyes at Daryl's scolding. I adored my Nugget. I would give my life for my Nugget. But I didn't want to face a cranky Nugget, either. I took a deep breath.
"And where's the salad dressin'?" Daryl hissed.
Oh my God.
I wasn't answering that question. Daryl maybe had two pieces of lettuce on that plate.
"Top shelf in the fridge. Look behind the milk," Rick whispered.
Daryl gave us a nasty eye roll and returned to the kitchen, mumbling something under his breath that sounded an awful lot like, "Tired and horny hoes."
Rick whipped his head around to face me and whispered, "Did we just get called tired and horny hoes?"
"We did," I whispered.
"That's just rude!" he whispered.
"Very rude!" I whispered.
Rick's lips started to curl up in amusement, and I would've laughed out loud if not for Rick's hand suddenly covering my mouth.
"Don't! You'll wake Carl and Daryl will leave," he whispered, trying not to grin.
I couldn't help it. I laughed into Rick's hand, which made Rick laugh… and then wheeze... and then wince… and then groan.
I quickly pulled my face away from his hand. "Are you ok?" I asked in concern.
Rick held his side and continued wincing. "Yeahhhh," he slowly answered.
"Are you sure?" I asked, taking a step in the direction of the couch so Rick could take a seat.
He stepped closer to me, stopping me from taking another step.
"I'll be fine. I just need to take a pain pill."
WHAT?!
"What?! You were about to leave without taking your pain pill, Rick?"
"I was distracted, Michonne," he retorted sharply.
I looked away, feeling guilty for being the distraction.
"I'll make sure I take it before I go," Rick said in a softer voice.
"Ok," I whispered.
I didn't want to be the cause of Rick's pain. I didn't want to argue anymore. I wanted us to be a united front. Always.
"I'm sorry, Rick," I whispered, looking into his eyes. "I should have told you where Fucking Lori Grimes was as soon as I found out. And I do believe in you. I trust you. I'm with you. Whatever you decide, whatever you think is best right now, I'm with you. And if…" I took a breath. "And if you want me to stay home while you handle your Fucking Lori Grimes business… I will. Fucking Lori Grimes betrayed your vows... Your world was uprooted more than mine... You have dibs."
It truly felt like my opportunity to kick Fucking Lori Grimes' ass was slipping away, but if I had to choose between my future with Rick and my fist in Fucking Lori Grimes' face, I chose my future with Rick.
There would always be another time and another place for a Fucking Lori Grimes ass kicking after all. Still, I looked away from Rick as I thought about the punches that weren't going to land any time soon.
"Stop poutin'," Rick softly whispered.
I was pouting, and I wasn't going to deny it. After all my careful planning to face Fucking Lori Grimes one-on-one, I was going to be stuck at home eating spaghetti with Daryl. And Daryl was not a graceful spaghetti eater.
FML.
"Michonne," Rick whispered.
I leaned back against the door and pouted harder.
"Michonne…"
Rick brought his thumb under my chin and gently turned my head back to him. My eyes met his. Well, they would have met his eyes if he wasn't staring at my lips.
"One punch," he whispered, raising his eyes to mine. "I talk to Lori—alone, without you interruptin', Michonne—and then you have your turn with her. One punch."
Wait...
What?!
Was this real?
"This is real, Michonne."
Was he really serious?
"I'm serious."
Excitement bubbled throughout me. It would have exploded, except… Rick's proposal wasn't entirely fair. Only punching Fucking Lori Grimes one time for her crimes was basically giving her a slap on the wrist as far as karmic justice went.
It was time to start negotiating.
"I talk to Fucking Lori Grimes—alone, without you interrupting, Rick—and I punch her as many times as I want."
"Uh uh. Not happenin'," Rick swiftly disagreed. "I'm there when you talk to her. You punch her one time."
That wasn't going to work for me.
"You're there when I talk to her, and I punch her as many times as I want," I countered.
"Not happenin'. I'm not agreein' to you punchin' her as many times as you want, Michonne. We've already discussed this. You have self-control issues."
Wow.
I was beyond tired of hearing that baseless claim! But once again, I chose to be the bigger person, and I ignored the lack of self-control slander. And to speed up our negotiating, I decided to be a little more flexible.
"I'll let the unlimited punches go if you let the supervised conversation go."
I waited patiently while Rick mulled over that proposition.
"Yeahhhhh, I can agree to that," he conceded. "And?"
"I want thirty minutes with her, and I want five punches."
Rick shook his head. "Twenty minutes. One punch."
"Twenty minutes. Three punches."
"Twenty minutes. One punch."
"Two and a half punches."
"One punch, Michonne."
"Two punches."
"One."
Goddamnit.
Rick wasn't budging from that one punch.
I sighed in exaggerated exasperation. "Fine. Me and Fucking Lori Grimes alone for twenty minutes. One punch."
Rick held his pinky up and nodded. "Deal."
I wrapped my pinky around his and grinned. "Deal! Let's end this."
"Together," Rick whispered. He smiled… and winced... but didn't move. "One more thang, Michonne…"
With his pinky still wrapped around mine, he stepped even closer to me, leaving the smallest fraction of space between us.
WAIT.
WHAT?!
My heart raced.
Was this it?
It had to be it!
We had a fight...
We just made up…
Rick knew I was horny…
I knew Rick was horny…
My dreams of punching Fucking Lori Grimes were about to come true…
Rick had papers Fucking Lori Grimes needed to sign…
This had to be our perfect last first kiss moment!
I swallowed hard and licked my lips in anticipation, but when I looked into Rick's eyes, I narrowed mine immediately.
I didn't care for that glint in his eyes.
At all.
"What is it?" I asked suspiciously.
"Honey Buns… Snugglebutt… Or Pookie Poo."
Honey Buns?
…
Snugglebutt?
…
Pook—
I gasped.
Oh, no.
No, no, no, no, no, no, no!
Was Rick trying to...
"Are you trying to make me choose a pet name?"
"I am," Rick said without shame. "Decide by the end of the week."
What?!
"The end of the week?!" I whisper-shrieked.
He was only giving me three days! Three days! I needed more time than that! A pet name would be attached to me for the rest of our lives! This was too big of a decision to rush!
"The end of the week," Rick repeated. "You agree to that, and we'll be square."
I squeezed my eyes shut and pressed the back of my head into the door. If this was the cost, did I even want us to be square?
"Do you agree, Michonne?"
I opened my eyes just to narrow them again.
Rick looked completely unimpressed.
"Do you agree to Honey Buns, Snugglebutt or Pookie Poo by the end of the week?"
I…
I honestly wanted to cry.
"Richard Grimes, you are a monster," I murmured.
"And you are my Honey Buns, my Snugglebutt or my Pookie Poo," he said in that cocky Rick Grimes way.
And now, I wanted to scream.
I blamed one person, and one person alone, for my current plight.
Fucking.
Lori.
Grimes.
This was all her fault!
I would need one more punch… maybe two… at least four.
"You're not gettin' another punch, Michonne. Decide by the end of the week or I'll decide for you."
He raised his eyebrows to punctuate how serious he was. And if I wasn't so turned on by being pinned between his body and the door, or by the bass in his whispered voice, or by the knowledge that he was as horny as I was, I would've given him the mother of all eye rolls.
"The end of the week," I grumbled.
"Yeah, yeah, yeah." Rick winced after smiling too big and kissed my forehead. "Let's go end thangs with Lori."
"Pain pill first," I said, fighting my grin, "then we end things with Fucking Lori Grimes."
Stay calm, Rick. Stay calm, Rick. Stay calm, Rick.
Silently willing Rick to stay calm was the best I could do to help keep him calm now that he knew everything that I knew about the barn situation. I probably should have told him everything before we left the house because the more I told him while he was driving, the more tense he became. And the more tense he became, the faster he drove.
I was pretty sure we made it to the Greenes' in record time.
The wrought iron gate to the farm was closed and locked, which made sense, considering the barn situation. I'd texted Maggie to let her know we arrived, and she said she'd be right out.
That was fifteen minutes ago.
I'd been waiting in my car for Maggie to let us in, while Rick had been standing off to the side, pinching the bridge of his nose. He hadn't moved a muscle in the fifteen minutes he'd been standing there.
Because the lighting at the gate was so bright, I could clearly see Rick's face. He looked like he was very, very close to losing his shit.
Stay calm, Rick. Stay calm, Rick. Stay calm, Rick.
I didn't want to take my eyes off him, but I needed to text Maggie again. The sooner Rick saw that Fucking Lori Grimes was alive, the better.
Michonne: Are you coming?
Maggie: …
Maggie: I'm on my way!
Maggie: I had to pee!
Michonne: Are you leaving now?
Maggie: I can't control my bladder Michonne!
Michonne: I understand
Michonne: Are you leaving now?
Maggie: …
Maggie: …
Maggie: …
Maggie: STOP YELLING AT A PREGNANT LADY!
Oh my God.
Maggie: (crying face emoji)
Maggie: (crying face emoji)
Maggie: (crying face emoji)
Oh my God!
Maggie: (crying face emoji)
Maggie: (crying face emoji) (crying face emoji) (crying face emoji) (crying face emoji)
Maggie: (crying face emoji)
Oh.
My.
God.
I didn't believe for one second that Margaret Josephine Greene had been in the bathroom this entire time. I called her before Rick and I left the house to tell her we were on our way, and I could barely understand her because she never stopped eating while we were talking. She was probably still eating now.
I wasn't judging her for it. When I was four months pregnant, I was temporarily banned from the grocery store due to an incident in the chip aisle that stemmed from my hunger pangs.
Maggie could eat all she wanted for however long she wanted. I just needed her to take whatever she was eating to the golf cart and drive to the gate to unlock it.
Michonne: (two people hugging emoji)
Michonne: I'm not yelling at you, Maggie
Michonne: Please hurry
I glanced at Rick, who was now limping back to the car. He was still pinching the bridge of his nose.
Shit.
I put my phone on the dashboard and watched quietly as he settled into the driver's seat. I was happy to see that his pain pill had kicked in. He didn't wince once.
He also didn't speak.
He stared straight ahead at the gate with an unnervingly unreadable expression on his face.
When he finally did speak, his voice was once again alarmingly low.
"Black-market horse tranquilizers," he said.
He continued staring straight ahead.
A vein was popping in his neck.
"Yes," I replied.
"Because of rodeo enemies."
"Mmhmm."
"Lori's been tied up since Monday night."
"She has."
"She's the pig. The one Beth said was on the loose in the barn."
"Yeah," I sighed.
"When Birdie told us there was a 'teeny, tiny mishap in the barn', she meant Lori. Lori was the 'teeny, tiny mishap.'"
"Yes."
I swallowed hard when another vein popped up next to the vein that was already popped up on Rick's neck.
"She's fine, Rick! Maggie said she's been weaned off the tranquilizers! She's awake. She's talking. She's fine," I quickly told him.
Rick didn't say anything. He tilted his head to the right, to the left, and to the right again. After his head returned to its upright position, he turned to look at me.
"Agree to one of the pet names before sunrise," he said in a low voice.
Huh?
"What?!"
My eyes darted to the clock in the car.
"That's in less than three hours!" I shrieked.
"Michonne, do you realize how much I'm gonna have to cover up to keep you, the Greenes, Glenn and Birdie outta trouble?"
I started to argue that there would be nothing to cover up if Fucking Lori Grimes hadn't been trespassing in the first place, but Rick didn't look like he was in the mood to have a spirited debate about the barn situation.
Fucking Lori Grimes.
This really was all her fault!
I was seriously going to need at least one more punch.
"You're not gettin' another punch. And the sunrise deadline is non-negotiable. Choose a name or—"
"Or you'll choose for me. Yeah, yeah, yeah," I grumbled.
But it truly was a half-hearted grumble. Despite Fucking Lori Grimes being a trespassing whore, crimes had been committed. Rick doing all that he could to ensure no one was arrested for illegal activity—albeit very justified illegal activity, wasn't something to take lightly.
"I'll pick a name before sunrise," I agreed without grumbling this time. "Thank you," I added, covering Rick's hand on his lap with mine. "Thank you for always looking out for all of us, and protecting us, and being here."
When Rick didn't immediately respond to my words or to my touch, I felt the teeniest, tiniest spark of fear that he was going to reject them. That fear hurt my heart too much, so I ignored it and focused on how grateful I was that Daryl had snitched. Everything would've been so much worse between me and Rick if I'd successfully snuck out the house and come to the farm on my own.
I sighed softly to myself.
Things had gotten so crazy over the last few days, but I knew one thing for certain: I was absolutely, positively never getting involved in a black-market horse tranquilizer kidnapping again.
Fucking Lori Grimes.
"Michonne…" Rick turned his hand beneath mine until our palms kissed and our fingers interlocked. "You never have to thank me for lookin' out for you and protectin' you. I'm always gonna do it if I can. Always."
He gazed at me with the warmest, fuzziest smile lighting up his ridiculously handsome face. I didn't understand how a face could even be so handsome covered in all those band-aids and bruises.
I rested the side of my head against my headrest and gazed back, smiling warm and fuzzy too.
Don't stare at Rick's lips. Don't stare at Rick's lips. Don't stare at Rick's lips.
My eyes fell to Rick's lips.
His perfectly pink—
"Stop that," Rick said in his teasing voice. "We gotta go. Maggie's comin'."
I could hear the golf cart approaching. Rick was right. We should meet Maggie at the gate.
I continued staring at his lips.
His perfectly pink—
"You can daydream about my lips later, sweetheart. Maggie's comin' in really hot."
I tore my eyes from those perfectly pink lips and looked out the windshield. Maggie really was coming in hot. The golf cart was barreling to the gate.
I wasn't too concerned by how fast she was driving because she'd been driving the golf cart since she was twelve and I knew she could stop on a dime. What had me slightly anxious was not knowing what her state of mind was.
I really, really, really hoped Maggie's emoji tears didn't translate to actual tears.
"Ready?" Rick asked.
I glanced one last time at his lips and nodded. His wink, his smile and the tender kiss he left on the back of my hand were enough to ease my anxious mind.
As expected, the golf cart came to a perfect stop a few feet from the gate. To my dismay, Maggie got out of the golf cart with a tear-streaked face. I didn't notice the fried chicken leg she was holding until she was standing opposite me and Rick on the other side of the gate.
"Hi. Richonne. Sorry I wasn't here sooner," she said faintly, looking out into the distance. "I pee too slow for some people, I guess."
I held in a groan when Maggie sniffled and put the chicken leg in her mouth to unlock the gate. I was about to question why she had fried chicken if she'd only been in the bathroom, but Rick's hand slid across my lower back and curled around my waist, warning me to keep quiet.
"Thanks for meetin' us out here, Maggie. We appreciate it," he said.
She removed the chicken leg from her mouth and sniffled. "You're welcome."
"How about I push the gate open for you and close and lock it after we drive in," Rick offered.
Maggie's lower lip trembled.
Her eyes filled with tears.
Oh, no.
"I can push a gate, Rick! I'm not a helpless, peein' pregnant lady!" Maggie shouted.
Rick wasn't fazed. "I know it," he replied gently. "I would've offered if you weren't pregnant. You know that's how my mama raised me."
Maggie sniffled again… and again… and again and nodded. "You can do the gate."
"Happy to do it," Rick replied.
Maggie sniffled again. "Olive Oyl knows you're comin' to see her. She got real fired up about it too. But don't worry, she's still tied up." She sniffled again. "Her setup's pretty cushy now that she's awake. Too cushy. I liked it better when she was on tranqs," she grumbled. "She was just tied to a chair and didn't run her mouth."
I looked at Rick to make sure no veins were popping.
Thankfully, none were.
"We'll head over to the barn after we lock up," Rick told her.
"I'll have to meet you over there. I gotta pee again." She sniffled again and looked at me. "I'll try to pee fast this time."
Oh my God.
"Maggie, you don't have to rush in the bathroom."
"But I will, Michonne! I. Will. Pee. Fast. This. Time!" She took an angry bite from her chicken as a tear rolled down her cheek.
Rick and I immediately started a silent conversation.
"Did you tell Maggie she doesn't pee fast enough?" he silently asked.
"No!" I silently answered.
"Cuz I would never tell a pregnant lady she doesn't pee fast enough," he silently said.
"I never told her she didn't pee fast enough! Maggie is being dramatic!" I silently told him.
He grinned and ran his thumb up and down my waist. "Want me to wait in the car while you talk to her?" he silently asked.
"Yeahhhhh. And I'll take care of the gate, Rick. Bruised ribs, remember?" I silently reminded him.
Rick didn't look too happy with what I'd said. I hoped he didn't want to silently argue about it.
"I feel fine! I can do it," he silently argued.
"When your ribs aren't bruised, you can open and close all the gates you want, Rick. Until then…" I said silently.
He gave me the cutest little hint of an eye squint and the cutest little eye roll, and I gave him a raised eyebrow to mark the end of our silent conversation.
"I'm gonna give you ladies a minute," he said to Maggie. "I'll be in the car if you need me."
"We won't," I chirped.
He gave my hip a firm little pat and a rub before unwrapping his arm from around my waist and limping back to the car. Maggie continued sniffling and eating her chicken.
I needed a second to get over that hip pat and rub.
Don't get horny. Don't get horny. Don't get horny.
I exhaled the horny out and cleared my throat.
"Maggie, I wasn't yelling at you when we were texting, and I'd never ask you to pee fast. I was worried about Rick when I asked you to hurry. Finding out about Fucking Lori Grimes was… a lot for him to process," I explained.
Maggie sniffled and peeked at Rick in the car. "He is more like Glenn than like us," she said with her mouth full. "He knows everythang?"
"He does."
She finished eating the chicken leg and sniffled again. "He knows what you want Olive Oyl to sign?" she whispered.
Oh.
Well, he knew almost everything.
"I'll tell him after she signs it. If she signs it."
"She doesn't deserve to sign it, Michonne! You're bein' too nice to that cow!"
Maggie was getting way too loud. It was truly astounding that I was surrounded by the most chaotic people in situations requiring stealth and silence.
I looked over my shoulder to see if Rick was watching us.
He was looking down at his phone.
"Maggie, you can't keep her tied up and sedated on horse tranquilizers forever," I whispered.
Maggie looked entirely too disappointed by that. "I guess not." She lightly kicked at the dirt with her bare foot. "I need more chicken."
She stomped to the golf cart to presumably get more chicken, and I pushed the gate open.
"Don't let Rick come in yet! I gotta give you those papers!"
Oh my God!
Why was Maggie so loud?!
I held my hand up to stop Rick from driving forward and responded to his look of confusion with a shrug meant to convey that I had no idea what was going on.
I don't think he bought it.
I hustled over to Maggie and was not at all shocked to see the oversized tupperware in the passenger seat filled with fried chicken, chicken bones, biscuits and corn on the cob. It was more surprising to see that a seatbelt was being used to secure the tupperware.
But I wasn't judging.
Maggie pulled folded papers from under the seat cushion of the driver's seat and slyly handed them to me. I slyly slid them into one of the side pockets of my leggings.
I looked over my shoulder to see if Rick was watching.
He was still looking at his phone.
"You sure we can't keep her tied up in the barn?" Maggie asked. "We have enough tranquilizers."
"We can't, Maggie."
Out of curiosity, I started to ask how many tranquilizers they had to have enough of them but decided it was best to know less.
Maggie grunted in annoyance, got in the golf cart, and plopped down in the driver's seat. "Did Rick tell you what he wants Olive Oyl to sign?" she asked, reaching for a fried chicken breast.
I shook my head. "It hasn't come up yet. We spent all our time in the car talking about the Fucking Lori Grimes situation."
"Are you gonna sneak in the barn to find out if he doesn't tell you?"
I'd be lying if I said that thought hadn't crossed my mind on the way to the farm, but Rick and I agreed to give each other alone time with Fucking Lori Grimes, and I was going to honor that.
"I'm not—"
"Cuz I know the best ways to sneak in and the best places to hide," Maggie said, staring at her chicken like... like she stared at Glenn. "Daddy and Annette always meet in the barn to talk about gifts for me and Bethy. I haven't been surprised by a birthday gift or Christmas gift since I was fourteen years old."
She bit into her chicken and moaned in what sounded like ecstasy while I had a crisis of conscience.
Don't do it, Michonne.
But it's a foolproof plan! Rick would never know I was there.
….
Just wait for Rick to tell you himself, Michonne.
But it's killing me not knowing right now. KILL. ING. ME.
…
Your shmoopykins trusts you, Michonne. What if it kills him to find out he can't?
Oh my God! I'm not calling him "shmoopykins."
…
I wasn't calling Rick "shmoopykins."
And whatever Rick discussed with Fucking Lori Grimes, whatever he had her sign… I would have to wait until Rick was ready to share those details with me.
"I'm not sneaking in, Maggie."
"Ok. Do you want me to sneak in?" she asked, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand.
"No," I said firmly.
"Ok. Do you want me to wake Bethy up and tell her to sneak in? Annette had to give her a special sleepytime tea because Olive Oyl's voice was agitatin' her so bad."
Poor Beth. I knew what it felt like to be agitated that badly by Fucking Lori Grimes' voice.
"Let her sleep it off," I told Maggie. "No one needs to sneak into the barn today."
Maggie looked so disappointed again. I laughed and motioned for Rick to pull up.
"Love you, Maggie," I said, hugging her tight.
"I'm just gonna go pee, and then I'll come right to the barn!" she shouted as I walked to the gate to close and lock it. "And don't worry! I won't tell anyone how Rick felt you up right in front of me, Michonne!"
Felt me up?
I tripped over air.
Was she talking about that little hip pat?
Oh my God.
She was definitely telling everyone Rick felt me up.
I ignored Maggie's cackling and kept walking. At least she hadn't called us—
"Love you, sluts!"
And there it was.
A few minutes later, Rick and I were parked outside of the barn. The sliding door was closed. The lights were on. Fucking Lori Grimes was just a few feet away.
This was it.
Finally.
"Should we wait for Maggie?" Rick asked, looking out the driver's side window.
No.
No!
NO!
There was no telling when we'd see Maggie again.
Rick was supposed to see Fucking Lori Grimes first. If he waited for who knows how long for Maggie to come over, then I'd be forced to wait for who knows how long to handle my Fucking Lori Grimes business.
But…
This wasn't just about me and what I wanted.
I had to keep reminding myself of that.
"If you want to wait for Maggie, we can. But if you're ready to go into the barn, you should. It's your choice, Rick."
I meant that. I hoped he believed it.
Rick nodded and his demeanor noticeably hardened when his focus turned to the barn in front of us.
"I'm ready," he said in a low voice.
I was so glad that his low voice wasn't directed at me. I'd had my fill of low voiced Rick Grimes.
"Need a pen?" I asked, watching him pull his folder of papers from between the driver's seat and the console.
"I came prepared, and I won't be long." He squeezed my knee and got out the car.
How Rick managed to pull off a commanding, bowlegged strut while he was limping was a beautiful, breathtaking mystery.
He slid the barn door open and slid it shut after he entered the barn.
I had to say, I felt...
Great!
Just a few days ago, I was terrified of the power Fucking Lori Grimes had over Rick. I thought it would be the easiest thing in the world for her to wrap him around her finger with her excuses, her lies, her tears.
I didn't have that fear anymore.
Fucking Lori Grimes had no power over Rick. She couldn't charm him. She couldn't manipulate him. There was no love left between them that she could count on to make her actions more tolerable or forgivable.
Rick would handle his Fucking Lori Grimes business. I was confident in that.
I loved being confident in that.
I just had to sit back and wait patiently for my turn.
I wasn't able to sit back and wait patiently for my turn when the barn was right in front of me. It was too nerve-wracking staring at it and imagining what was going on in there.
After a few minutes, I had to get out the car and sit on the trunk, facing away from the barn. I was looking up at the stars when my phone vibrated from an incoming text.
Daryl: You done with that skank?
Instead of texting Daryl back, I called him.
"I haven't seen her yet," I told him after he answered. "Rick's still with her."
Daryl grunted. "What've they been talkin' about?"
"I have no idea," I answered truthfully.
"What's that mean?"
"It means I have no idea, Daryl." I'd heard Rick and Fucking Lori Grimes' raised voices a few times, but I forced myself to ignore them and stay seated on the trunk.
After a beat of silence passed, Daryl asked, "You didn't sneak in the barn?"
"No, Daryl."
"You didn't barge in?"
"No, Daryl."
"You didn't put your ear to the door?"
"No, Daryl."
I heard the disbelief in his silence and rolled my eyes.
Oh my God.
"I am being respectful and giving Rick his privacy," I said as if the thought of being anything other than respectful of Rick's privacy had never crossed my mind.
When Daryl got quiet again, I knew exactly why and groaned.
"You're really going to make me say it?" I asked.
"Yep."
His smug response made me roll my eyes again.
"You are a petty man, Daryl Dixon. That's not an attractive quality."
He grunted. "Still waitin'…"
I started to sigh in an exaggerated, exasperated way, but instead, I genuinely said, "Thank you for snitching, D."
"Yep."
His smile was so loud.
"Shut up, Daryl," I playfully grumbled. "How's my Nugget? Still sleeping?"
"Yeah, like a rock. How're you?"
"Surprisingly, I'm f—"
"Cuz I heard you and Rick were bein' sluts."
Oh my God!
The barn door slid open, and I knew something was wrong by the way Rick opened it. I looked over my shoulder and my heart dropped.
Rick's face was livid.
"What's wrong?" Daryl asked. "It's Rick?"
"Yeah," I answered getting off the trunk.
"Is he ok?"
Rick slammed the barn door shut.
"I don't know, Daryl," I whispered.
"Tell him to call me, 'Chonne."
I hung up and rushed over to Rick, who was breathing so hard he was wheezing.
"I'm fine," he said, answering the question he knew I was going to ask.
"You don't look fine, Rick."
His face was dark red under his bandages.
His pupils had dilated so much that his eyes looked black.
Veins were popping all over the place.
I was trying my best to stay calm.
I was trying my best not to shake with rage.
"What. Happened?" I asked.
Rick took several hard breaths before he was able to answer. "It doesn't matter." He looked down at the folder he was holding so tight that he might as well have been wadding it into a ball. "I got what I needed."
"Rick—"
"Michonne," he said, cutting me off. "Can I just... Can I hold you for a min—"
I threw my arms around his neck and held onto him, mindful of his injured body. He wrapped his arms around me and let out a shaky breath.
"My pain pill's workin'. You can hold me tight."
I held him tighter, closer.
He was still so tense.
He was still breathing so hard.
"Rick," I whispered.
"It doesn't matter. She was just bein'..."
"Fucking Lori Grimes," I growled, filling in the blank.
"Yeah," he breathed out harshly. He kissed the side of my forehead and pulled away from me. "I'm ok. I am. I just need a minute."
He didn't wait for me to respond. He limped to the car and tossed the folder in it and limped toward the table and chairs we'd set up for Nugget's birthday.
"Call Daryl!" I called out.
"He's already callin'!" he shouted, holding up his phone.
I flexed my hands. I cracked my knuckles. I calmly walked to the barn and slid the door open.
Breathe, Michonne.
Breathe.
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