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Chapter 12 – Michonne


"This is scary, right? I know. I'm sorry to put you on the spot, ambush you like this. You don't have to to do this today if you're not ready. I'm just… I don't wait for my happiness any longer. But if-"


"Yes! I want to marry you right now, Rick! I do!" I mumble into his neck as Rick cradles me in his arms, his chin resting atop my head, and tears continue to fall from my eyes.


Laughing lightly, I can feel and hear the jubilant rumble in his chest. "I wasn't sure with all the crying."


"This is all so beautiful… thoughtful, unexpected. The house, the ring, the cards. You. I love it. I love you. I want to be your wife, Rick. Right now." I affirm again, hoping to solidify my commitment to this wedding, despite the waterfall of tears streaking my mascara down my cheeks. Nodding, I lift my eyes to his. Clouded over with the sparkle of fresh tears of his own, his blues appear darker in the glow of the moon's light, bathing the entirety of his handsome face.


"Hey, not to be a dick or anything, but it's like only sixty degrees out here. And it's getting late, sooo…"


"Shut up, Noah! Your big sister is getting married tonight. Try to be supportive for another thirty minutes at least." Slapping my brother on the back of the head with his large hands, my father gets him to stop his grumbling then turns to Rick and I, narrowing his almond shaped eyes on us. "You two are getting married tonight, right?"


"Yes, Dad. We are. Right now." Grabbing Rick's hand in mine, I turn him around towards where Gabriel is standing behind us. "Let's go, Gabriel. Marry us. Right now."


"Michonne, you sure this is what you want?" Rick asks with a last ditch modicum of uncertainty, which instantly breaks my heart. I did that. With my fickle, possibly over cautious nature concerning the babies, and how we originally came to be. I made this wonderful man believe that there was even the smallest inkling of unrest in my heart in regards to him. There is not, and I could kick myself for making him think otherwise. Looking down at me, his face holds all the love and hope that I pray is reflected right back to him from my own face.


"You and me, Rick? Reordering our lives together? I want that, baby. I do."


Blowing out a relieved breath, his angular cheekbones lifting to showcase a grin that lights up his handsome face. Rick leans down to place a soft kiss to my lips, and as he does so the light windy breeze of the cool night air picks up the fragrance of his cologne, swaddling me in the masculine scent of my lover. "Ok then, Michonne. Let's get married."


"Finally." Grumbles Noah as he, and everyone else encloses the tight circle around us, their candles in hand, creating a ring of light that illuminates this moment with a certain magic.


Rolling my eyes at my little brother, I'm not even mad. I can't be. Not today. I don't know how this man keeps doing this to me. Surprising me. Making me fall more in love with him every second that passes, every breath that leaves my body. But he does. God help me, he does. Looking around the clearing behind the house that he somehow purchased without me finding out, I take note of all of the faces, family, friends. My parents and his. Our sons in their matching khaki pants and white shirts, oddly resembling a set of waiters or valets, both sporting excited smiles. Our friends, Gabriel and Rosita, Morgan and Jenny, Aaron and Eric, with little Liana in tow, and Abe and his new wife Sasha already displaying a rounded baby bump of her own through her coat. My petulant little brother Noah.


Thankful for each of them, I know right now, without a doubt, no worry or concern still weighing heavy on my heart, with everything in me, that this is right. I can feel it. Some might consider this a rash decision, one that shouldn't be made so quickly. Hell I've only known Rick a little over a month. But in that time, I have experienced more joy than in my entire life. Why wouldn't I want this to last forever?


Holding tightly to each other, our hands are still clasped in each others' clutches as though this feeling of ecstatic joyfulness might carry one of us away from the other, floating high on the night's sky. Anxious and excited I nod to Gabriel to proceed. "Go ahead, Gabriel. Let's get started!"


"Oh yes! Ok. This is all very exciting isn't it? The start of something fresh and new. A surprise for one's heart when you feel that the world has already shown you all of its surprises, and they weren't all so good. But this? This is good, and I'm so pleased that you both have allowed me the opportunity to play a role in this day. I've known Michonne for years, and you have been a wonderful friend to my wife and I. And Rick, though we've only just met you, we are pleased to welcome you into our lives as well because we can see the magic your love as reawakened in our dear friend. For loving her so thoroughly, we love you. With that said, I can see on your faces how eager you are for me to stop being long winded and to get on with it. So here goes. Michonne, Rick has stated that he has a few words he wants to say before you exchange vows. Go on, Rick." Gesturing his hand towards Rick, Gabriel beams a bright, encouraging smile his way.


"Thanks, Gabriel." Rick gives him a short nod and returns Gabriel's smile with a thankful one of his own, then settles his eyes back on me. Standing so tall and erect, more beautiful than should be allowed for any man, my lover stares into my eyes and clears his throat. Locking me in place with the piercing beauty of his pale blue eyes, Rick raises his large, warm hands to my face, cupping my cheeks and offers me the truth of his heart. "Michonne, I'm not as good with words as others may be, but I know my heart. I am a grown up. A man that has lived. Experienced the highs and lows. Happiness, disappointment. And, I know what I want. I want you. It's not because you are the most stunning woman I've ever met. It's not because your intelligence awes and stuns me. It's not because you're an amazing lawyer, businesswoman, mother, cook, lover, everything. While you embody all of those things, it's because through your love, you gave me life and purpose. It's so simple, yet so breathtaking and overwhelming. Your passion for life, and the way you love so fully, with your whole being, it's everything that I've never had before. Being in love with you is an experience unlike anything else in this world, and there is nothing I can do to repay that but to try my best, everyday, to do the same for you. To completely give you my whole heart, to love you even better than you love me. To make sure that you always know and feel how special and loved, adored you truly are. My vow is that my heart, my life, me, Richard Michael Grimes belongs to you, Michonne Marie Alexander. Forever."


Tears stain my eyes, filtering the rugged, red tinged blush of Rick's face. His visage now coming across as some romantic impressionist painting. A blend of short, quick strokes that together present a tapestry, an image of a man in love. It's all over him. In his words, the way he's holding my face in his trembling hands as though his life depends on communicating to me, reaching me through the soft sobs that fall from my lips. And now, stunned into silence, my teeth trapping my lips to keep me from falling apart, I can not find my own words. All I have is tears, a waterfall of emotions that I hope translate how deeply Rick's promise touches me. Humbles me with his devotion, his use of the words that so keenly enliven my being. Love. Life.


Instead of seeing the joy through my silence and tears, Rick must be sensing distress, and snatches me up. Lifting me from the ground again, and into the welcoming comfort of his strong arms, my dangling over his boots. He's cradling my head, and lacing my neck and cheeks with soft shushing words, as though he's attempting to calm a baby. And I am like a baby right now. Blubbering and crying, melting into his affections, keening from his protective touch. My heart nearly arresting with the strength of how much this man loves and cares for me. And with that realization I find my own power again, and a semblance of control. Because this feeling? This warm rush of heady, weightless bliss? I need him to feel the same high. I need Rick to join me on this cloud. Nirvana.


Lightly pushing at his arms, I wiggle from his hold, urging him to no longer float and hover my body so closely to his, but to set me back on solid ground. Let me get my bearings. Acquiescing to my non-verbal commands, Rick sets me down, a slightly confused frown furrowing his brow at the sound of my laughter now breaking through my dwindling sobs, still the only sound to be heard over the low hum of nature going about the business of sustaining life all around us. Everyone is watching, seemingly holding their collective breaths. Probably wondering if I've completely lost it. I have.


Grabbing his face in my own hands, the same way he held mine, I'm bringing his head down towards mine and speak directly to the soul of my lover. "Rick, I see you. All of you." I run my fingers gently over his features. His thick, bristly, brown and grey eyebrows, the straight spikes of his sandy eyelashes. Across the chiseled planes of his face, his plush pink lips. It would be easy to dismiss him as masculine. But he's so much more than that. My Rick is a mixture of hard and soft, old and new. His blues dart from my own eyes to my lips, searching, trying to understand, to decipher the code of who I am. There is no need for him to try anymore, as I seek to make it all transparent and plain. "And you see me. That is everything. It is everything. You saw the me that I tried to hide and protect for so long, because I was hurt and scared. Rick, you gave me your love and the courage to feel safe enough to be whole again. To live. To love. How could I not fall in love with you? It's so easy to do, and I promise to continue doing it until the end of time. You always say I'm perfect, but the truth is that we're perfect for each other. How else could we have created life, lives," I laugh, a hitch catching the last word, almost dampening the sound of it in my throat. Rick's encouraging smile, that sexy and mischievous grin that I adore, catches my eye as a shocked gasp and a few rounds of 'What!?' are heard in those gathered around us. I drop my right hand from his face and take a hold of his in mine, placing it on my stomach. "New lives that were supposed to be impossible. Me and you, Rick, our love has done the impossible. Together, we did that. I, Michonne Marie Grimes, do vow to walk this path with you, and our boys, and our babies. To love you, and protect the magic of this life with you, Richard Michael Grimes."


"You can't hold water can you?" Groaning at me spilling our secret, Rick's smile grows wider, brighter. His Adam's apple bobs in his throat, as he tries to swallow down some of the emotion nearly choking his words, stifling their escape into the atmosphere.


"I'm not afraid of whatever comes next, Rick. I don't want to be that way anymore. Whatever happens with the babies, we can survive this together, as a family."


"We will." With his arm hooked around my head, Rick pulls me in to a hug and drops kisses to the top of my head. We stay this way for a moment, completely forgetting the world still spinning around us, the people circling us, Gabriel patiently waiting to proceed.


"Ahem… Well that was… Wow! The pitiful vows I have pale in comparison to that. So let's just make it brief shall we? Rick, do you take Michonne? Michonne, do you take Rick?" Gabriel offers, chuckling somewhat nervously, maybe more stunned than anything.


"I do. Of course I do."


"I do, too. I absolutely do." I breathe out into the strong firmness of Rick's chest, relief releasing the pressure of this emotion filled moment.


"Then I now pronounce you husband and wife. Rick, you may kiss your bride." Stepping back from us, as though he's expecting this to get heated, Gabriel moves away and quickly blends into the crowd of whooping, celebratory voices, and clapping hands.


Raising my face to his, I pucker my lips, awaiting Rick's kiss. My husband doesn't disappoint, as he instantly devours me. Rick's tongue sweeps into my mouth as he bends my body back, dipping me over his arm, and my eyes instantly close. Threading my fingers through his freshly trimmed hair, I'm lost in his kiss. Nothing matters in this moment. Only my husband, this love, this feeling.


Bringing me back up, I blink away the stars in my eyes as we are bombarded by the boys first, followed closely by our parents and friends.


"Ok, so wait just a gotdamn minute. Did I hear Michonne mention babies? What's that about?" Rick's father George asks, his eyes bouncing between Rick's face and mine.


"Exactly the question I have. How the hell are you already pregnant, Michonne? What did you do to my munchkin, Rick?" My father claps his hand over Rick's shoulder, and narrows his gaze on his face, awaiting an answer to his question.


"Wait a minute, Ma. That's what all that Maxwell, and adult noises is about, huh? You're pregnant…by Rick?" Andre looks between Rick and I, then over to Carl who also seems to have put it all together in his mind. And as though they are also an odd set of twins, they both groan at the same time. "Ew!"




 


2 weeks later


"Maybe we just take this wall out altogether and make one big room for the babies? They are going to need a nursery, and then a play room, but by the time they need the play room, Carl and Andre will be gone. Awe…that just…that just hit me real quick, Rick. Awe!" Uncharacteristically, at least for the old me, water begins to cloud my vision as a fresh batch of tears unleash themselves on my unsteady emotions.


"Babe, stay focused. Don't start crying again, ok? Don't think about Carl and Andre leaving, that's years from now." Rick gestures with one hand, while cradling me around the shoulders with the other.


Shuffling his heavy booted feet uncomfortably across the hard wood floor, edging towards the bedroom door, Eugene mumbles in his deep, flat tone. "I can give you both a moment to address your emotions while I take some measurements on the master bedroom extension. Allow you to mitigate your tearing situation satisfactorily outside of my presence." Departing the room in a dash, he's obviously disconcerted by me breaking out into panicky tears. Again. Since the wedding two weeks ago, I have been throwing all of my time into renovating the house, and trying to figure out how to tie up one other loose end. The one frayed edge that threatens to unravel our happiness if I don't do something about it.


Right now though, we are doing a walk through of the house with the architect, Eugene, that I just hired to sketch out the remodel of the house, and manage the rehab project. He may be a little weird, and not that warm and fuzzy with the interpersonal skills, but he does come highly recommended by Eric, whose parents had him design a house for them a few years back. Given the scale and cost of what I want, a good architect is the the right start for us to bring out the full potential of our new home. While it's a gorgeous old house, with what Eugene keeps calling 'good bones', there is a lot that needs to get done to it before the babies come. A thought which made me cry about twenty minutes ago when he mentioned that a renovation project this big might take almost a full seven to eight months, which made me upset because that would be pushing it very close to my delivery.


Of course then, just like now, Rick had to help refocus my energy so that we could get through the rest of the walk through, without Eugene freezing then running at every sign of my crocodile tears. Getting very close to our twelve-week benchmark, I'm just about entering week ten, and though the nausea is now rounding towards manageable, I still find myself getting weepy. Generally speaking, Rick is usually fairly amused by my bouts of tearfulness, but for some reason everything related to the rehab of our 'love shack' as I've deemed it, seems to cause him a bit of undue stress.


Part of me understands why. It's about the money. This is going to be an expensive endeavor. Probably more expensive than whatever Rick paid for it to begin with, an amount that he will not share with me. He won't even get into the financials of how he was able to make this happen on a sheriff's salary, especially given the fact that he still has house, and pays alimony and child support to his ex. On the other hand, the moment we became husband and wife I gave him full disclosure about my finances, and let him know that despite the enormity of my wealth, what's mine is his. It's all ours, and there is more than enough to handle everything, which is why I went ahead and commissioned Eugene's services. I know that Rick figured he and some friends could slowly work on the house here and there, get it rehabbed on his own, but that would take too long. Longer than the seven to eight months that Eugene is quoting. All of which brings me back around to my second round of tears within the hour.


"Rick, we're so old already. What are we doing starting over with two babies? Hm? Two! We already have two on the way out the door, and somehow you knocked me up with two more." Tossing up two fingers, I'm emphasizing my point to him. Trying to anyway, because all Rick is doing is holding me in his arms and gently rocking me back and forth.


"Chemistry, babe, we have excellent chemistry. How could I not get you pregnant? Look at you. So sexy and beautiful. Gimme a kiss, Mrs. Grimes."


Loving the sound of him calling by my new name, I pout my lips and lean into his kiss which quickly turns heated until we are interrupted again by the sound of Eugene clearing his throat in the doorway.


"Uh, Mr. and Mrs., I think I have everything I need to finish the drawing. I can have it complete by the end of the week, then if you find it suitable for your needs and aesthetics, once you pay the first installment I can get the construction company out to begin work by the end of March." He offers in that stilted and stiff manner of his. "What say you?"


Shifting away from Rick a little, I'm all business now that we are ready to talk money. "That'll be fine, Eugene. You can just email the final plans over to us, and we'll take care of the payment in full. Of course, that is provided that you stick to the outlined schedule, and complete the job within the time frame that you have quoted, and will be contracted for."


"I appreciate that, ma'am. Payment in full is greatly preferred, and makes it easier to keep things moving hunky dory. In fact, I can have Dwight and his team out here to begin demo as soon as you're ready." Turning on his heel, he leaves, the sounds of him clumsily clomping down the hall, then the stairs, immediately followed by the slamming of the front door.


Finally alone, I turn back to Rick and notice that the softened, amorous look from just before is now replaced by a hint of a scowl. "Hey, what's wrong? You don't think he'll do a good job? I know he's kinda weird, but he comes highly recommended."


"Nah, not that. I'm sure he'll do fine. I just-" Using his thumb to scratch at the frown lines forming on his forehead, Rick's eyes survey what is going to be the babies' bedroom, taking in everything. The old, worn out wallpaper, peeling and curling around the edges near the baseboards. Without any further words, he takes my hand and walks across the hall to the master bedroom, the heels of his boots clicking across the floors along with the long strides of his bowed legs. Stopping once we reach the middle of the room, Rick places his hands at rest on his lean hips. His right index finger begins a steady tap by the trim of his blue jeans pocket. Sighing, he drops his head then peers up at me through the long sweep of his thick eyelashes. "Why don't you let me handle the renovations like I originally planned, Michonne? Let me make your dreams come true, sweetheart. I got this."


"You've already done that, sweetheart. Now, I want to do this for you, Rick. Wouldn't you rather spend your free time doing something other than working on the house?" Scrunching my nose at the stale stench of time and neglect blanketing the musty room, I levy my gaze on him, not wanting to walk into a dangerous minefield with this conversation. It's about the money again.


"I may not look it, but I'm handy. And you know Abe and Morgan offered to help out. We built the deck on the back of my old house I had with Lori, and no one ever fell through. It's still standing I think."


"Oh yeah, I'm sure it is. And I know you guys would do a good job. You're amazing at everything, Rick. But why not let me just pay this guy to get it done. You already bought the house. Let me fix it up for us. I can afford it, Rick, money isn't an issue for us."


"Yeah I know that. I guess I just imagined me doing it for you is all. With my own hands, ya know?"


"You already do so much for me with these brilliant hands, Mr. Grimes."


Quirking an eyebrow and tilting his head, Rick centers his gaze on me. With that crooked, mischievous grin he's known for, his voice deepens to a lower register. "Is that right?"


Nodding my head, I slowly approach him, sensing the change in the tenor of our conversation, just from the tone he's using with me, and that smile. That naughty, dangerous weapon of his that sensually displays his wicked lips, surrounded by the re-emergence of his thick beard. It's the same smile that usually leads to me being somewhere flat on my back, with his face between my legs. Two weeks ago he looked at me like that in this very room, right on the balcony directly to my right, and not thirty minutes later I was his wife. That turned out well, as I did indeed end that night flat on my back with Rick lapping up the messy and sticky remains of red velvet cake that his mother made for our nuptials, and that he used my pussy from which to eat it. But I can't imagine that sexy grin of his leading to that right now, despite the low hum and throb of my core, hungry for his touch.


As we stand alone in this small empty bedroom, a master only in name, with its cherry hardwood floors still dusty, bearing the worn in vestiges of time, I look upon my husband and acknowledge that yeah…even on these dusty hardwood floors, my man can get it.


His hair is growing out a little. Chestnut locks curling in thick wisps around his nape and ears, dusting the edge of his coat's shearling collar, but still combed away from his high forehead. His square jaw and bearded, chiseled cheeks, with the casual flecks of gray interspersed with the chocolate brown bristles, along with the straight slope of his hawkish nose create a picture of manly sexiness that I would have never expected to find so appealing. I like all kinds of men, but I have historically been most attracted to men who look like Mike. Tall and dark was previously my thing. Not until I met Rick, and even Shane to some degree, have I ever really entertained this different look. Rosita said Rick is like the Marlboro man without the cigarettes, and I agree. Rick is every bit the cowboy, preferring cowboy boots and jeans, to wingtips and slacks. There is something to be said for the quiet, authoritative, aggression that seeps from his pores, but does nothing to tamp down the adoring softness of those blue eyes, and the lines radiating from the corners, a byproduct of that assessing squint of his. My adolescent dalliance with Aaron notwithstanding, this fondness for a man like Rick is fresh and new, and feels like I've gotten my cherry popped all over again.


Rick must be reading my mind as his eyes follow my sweeping gaze, drinking him in as my nipples grow taut and turgid against my bra cups, because the next thing I know he's on me. Hands eagerly shoving the lapels of my wool coat hastily away from my body, as I return the favor and push his brown suede coat off his square, Titan's shoulders. Dropping our coats to the floor, our lips land squarely on each other. Kissing, consuming the minty breath of my husband, I run my fingers throw the feathery salt and pepper curls that I love so much. Rick pulls me closer, picking me up from the floor, and urging me to wrap my legs around his waist.


Walking towards our favorite part of this room, the balcony, Rick carries me effortlessly in his strong arms, never breaking our kiss. The French doors are already open, filtering in the warmth of the sun, and a lazy March breeze, perfumed with the scent of the sweetgum trees that dot the property, hiding it away from the rest of the world. Our own little world, is how my mother described it on my wedding night.


Resting the arch of my back against the railing, Rick has my body slightly bowed, breasts perked out, crushed into his hard chest. My husband is consuming me, overloading my senses with the smell of his woodsy cologne, the wet glide of his tongue and the heated suck of his lips. Heaving a series of panted breaths, I haltingly drag my lips away from his, and take a moment to appreciate the blessings of my new life. How the universe has shown me so much favor, a drastic difference from just a few short months ago when I was so sure that my future was not nearly as bright as it is now.


"Rick, baby?"


"Hm?" Rick mumbles from where he's dutifully pressing his lips to the hollow of my throat, licking a path down between where he's kneading a handful of my swollen breasts in my t-shirt. His long fingers are tangled in my free swinging hair with the other hand. Wrapping a handful in his fist, he easily tugs my head back. Stroking my throat and chest with long licks, he moves his left hand to the button of my jeans, and begins to fidget with the closure and zipper.


"You serious right now? You want to have sex out here on the balcony?"


Dipping his hand into my now open jeans, and into my panties, Rick's fingers are now bathing in the slickness of my arousal, rubbing over the puffy lips of my pussy. "I'm always serious about sex with you, babe." Biting down on my neck, the growl in his tone as his teeth clamp down on my sensitive flesh causes me to arch further into him, and grind down into his exploring palm. "We're gonna christen the house, babe."


"Right now? In the middle of the day?"


"Yeah. I wanna fuck my wife in our new house." He pants out over my breasts that he's now freed from the confines of the lace cups of my bra. Tugging at the pebbled peaks with his teeth and lips, his eyes remain focused on my face. Witnessing the effect he's having on me, he gives me a wicked grin with his lips around the mound of my breast. With the hormones from my pregnancy coursing through me, making my breasts swollen and sensitive, Rick knows this makes me crazy with lust. Even the lightest touch or kiss of my breasts can almost make me orgasm with little effort. He's so damned bad, he knows exactly what he's doing. "Your titties are so pretty, babe. Nipples like chocolate kisses."


"Oh god…"


"Yeah?" Running his thumb over the throbbing pulse of my clit, while two of his fingers tunnel in and out of my pussy, he's working me into a passionate frenzy. Taking me to the very edge of an orgasm, it's tingling crawl bursting over the goose bumps of my sweat glistened skin.


"Mmm…"


"You like that. I know you do."


"Yes…"


"I know. Ease into it, sweetheart. I feel you cumming all over my hand. Go ahead."


Hissing at the gratifying flush of my orgasm overwhelming me with pleasure, I roll my head back, accepting this gift from my husband stiffening every muscle in my body as the mid-day sun warms my flesh.


"You're so beautiful like this, babe. So sexy." Rick mumbles. Withdrawing his fingers, he watches for a moment as I descend from the cloud his affections have elevated me to. As I come around, and unhook my leg from his waist, I witness the piercing storm of desire still swirling in my husband's eyes. He's not done with me yet. Good. Wiping his hand down over his lips, then unbuckling his jeans, with a short click of his tongue against his teeth, he fists his dick then commands me. "Turn around."


Without even a hitch in my movements, I obey my husband's wishes, preparing for him to take me even higher as I know what's coming next. And I'm ready.


"I want you to pull your panties down, slowly, Michonne."


My panties are already askew from his hand's skillful mastery. Hooking my thumbs on either side of the garment, right where the lace trim of the silky cloth skims my hips, I begin to follow Rick's direction, latching on to his fiery stare over my shoulder. I push them and my jeans down over my ass and thick thighs painstakingly slow, so slow that the anticipation of what comes next, and the blazing heat of his wanton glare, threaten to burn me alive.


"Slow, Michonne. That's nice, babe." Complimenting how well I'm following his direction, Rick leans into me, rubbing his palm over my ass, and pushing his cock into the cleft between the cheeks. Finally reaching my ankles, I'm bent over at the waist. Excited tension is curling in the pit of my belly, holding my muscles still, taut as I wait. "Place your hands on the railing."


Rising, I again follow my husband's command, and wrap my fingers around the smooth, painted wood of the intricate railing that surrounds the balcony. Biting down on my bottom lip, I briefly close my eyes, settling into the erotic tension of the moment, as I feel my lover's hands smooth themselves up and down the curve of my back. Up. Down. Rick's fingers dancing over the dip of my spine just above my ass.


"Your skin is amazing, babe. How it drapes over this little arch in your back. So soft. Almost like silk." He praises as I feel the push of his cock, bluntly breaching the slippery entrance of my womanhood. "Fuck…" he swallows thickly, the curse word dropping from his lips in a gritty, sandpapered rasp that somehow arouses me even more than the thrust of his pelvis bumping against my ass.


On a series of moderately paced, winding thrusts, Rick is forcefully pulling my hips back to meet his cock, grinding and pummeling my sensitive pussy into a slick, wet mess that sloshes and leaks onto my thighs.


"Ah, ah, ah, uh… Rick!"


"Louder! I want to hear you scream louder."


"Rick! Rick! Oh god…"


"You're wet as fuck, Michonne! Shit!"


Leaning over my body, his chest flush against my back, Rick places his hands on top of mine, intertwining our fingers against the railing. The gleam of our wedding rings, the stunning princess cut solitaire and matching band, made of a carat's worth of diamonds on my finger, and the same style band encrusted with diamonds for Rick, catches my eye. A smile graces my lips as I think of the symbolism of these expensive gifts, exchanged as a sign of our love and commitment for each other. In that moment, I can feel Rick nestling his head and lips into the crook of the back of my neck. The strands of his beard softly abrading my skin.


Pistoning his hips back and forth, delivering a fluid wave of pleasure with the glide of his cock deeper and deeper, Rick grunts a stream of vulgar praise and pronouncements. Turning to meet his hungry kisses, I lick out my tongue, which is promptly met by Rick's. I suck his long tongue into my mouth, sensing the return of the unfurling claw of ecstasy, preparing to drag me into the depths of another glorious orgasm.


"Babe, I'm so fucking close. I'm gonna nut in this pretty pussy, Michonne!" he promises, pulling my hands from our woven clutch on the railing, and into a clasp behind my back, his fist holding them both tightly in place. With his other hand now playing against the hardened nub of my clit, wetly smacking at the bundle of nerves, Rick's powerful strokes lull me into a pleasure filled daze.


"Yes, yes, yes…" the chanting affirmation is all the permission my husband needs as his speed increases, and with crushing power, the drill of his cock, throbbing against the nerves of my sensitive walls, pushes me over. There is nothing but the drastic feeling of falling apart in my lover's arms. Slackened limbs, covered in sweat, strain and stiffen with the heated flush of my climax as I push my ass back into Rick, desire driving me to swallow as much of his cock into my pussy as I can.


Rick's hips begin to slow down now, and with just a few more hard thrusts, banging my body forward to punctuate each, he finally succumbs to the lustful crescendo that releases a squirting spray of his cum onto my womb.


Sated, weak, our breaths are labored, but somehow, as seems to be the case lately, in synch. My heart is banging against my chest as tiny spasmic aftershocks fire off, causing me to throb and clench over and over around Rick's length. Easing his dick from my womanhood, with a few short twitches, a comingled splash of our essence drips stickily to join the already damp dewiness on my thighs.


Chuckling as he clears his throat, Rick pulls back and tucks his cock back into his boxers and jeans. "We made a mess. Hold on, lemme see what I can use to clean you up."


"Yeah, I can feel it dripping down my thighs."


"It does make for a very pretty picture though. You bent over like that, my cum thick and white on your pussy and thighs."


"Rick!"


"Wait, wait! Don't move! Don't move!" Just as he says that I hear the click of his phone's camera, obviously capturing the image he seems so hypnotized by.


"You're so nasty! I'm gonna just use my panties to clean it off."


"Ok, be still, I'll get it." Balling up the lace into his hands, Rick uses it to swipe away the evidence of our coupling, just as we both catch the sound of tires coming to a halt, crunching the gravel on the side of the house where the driveway ends, accompanied by voices. Finishing up, he drops one parting kiss on my ass cheek, then taps my hip. Rick shoves my panties into his pants pocket. "All done." Tilting his head and leaning over the railing in a futile attempt to try and see who has arrived, he asks as I'm pulling up my jeans and lowering my t-shirt, "We expecting someone else?"


"No. Eugene was it."


"Hm. Let's go see who it is." Grabbing a hold of my hand, Rick briefly stops to pick up our coats and my purse from the floor with his other hand, before leading me down the steps just as we lay eyes on his ex-wife, Lori, unexpectedly coming through the front door. Carl follows behind her, a sheepish frown on his quickly reddening, adolescent face.


"See, Carl, that was them we heard when we pulled up. I recognized your father's truck out front." Lori offers over her shoulder in Carl's direction, who quickly mouths the word 'sorry' our way as we step off the last of the rickety stairs.


Mouthing 'it's ok' in response, I give my sweet step-son a bright smile, knowing that whatever Lori is up to, it's not Carl's fault.


"What are you doing here, Lori?"


"I wanted to see your new house. I figured you would never actually invite me over.


According to your mother, who made sure to mention it to my mother at their Bridge club last week, obviously after she'd been drinking, you bought a big new house for your new wife. None of which you even bothered to mention to me. So, Carl reluctantly told me where the house is, and here I am."


"Here you are. Ok, you've seen it, what do you want?"


"Nothing really. I just find it interesting that you wouldn't increase your child support, dropped me from your insurance, and wouldn't help me out until I straighten things out with Shane. But, you had enough for this big house. And, had the nerve to get married without telling me about it." Pursing her lips together, thinning them into a press across her angular face, Lori crosses her arms over her thin chest and waits for Rick to answer her.


Lori. I don't have a problem with her, not really. She's manipulative, entitled, and has a breathtakingly shocking lack of self-awareness. But a problem? Not for me. And she's not going to be for my husband any longer. Not wanting to step on his toes, I decide not to address Lori just yet. Instead I step around Rick to head over to Carl, giving my step-son a big hug.


Rick blows out an exasperated breath in lieu of providing a response to her completely out of line tirade. Instead, his gaze softens on Carl and I sharing a warm embrace.


Lori's eyes follow my every step as well, darkening their narrowed gaze as Carl and I begin to chat. "Hey, kiddo. How's it going?"


"Ok. I didn't mean to cause trouble. She's been asking me about you guys and the house ever since she heard about it from Grandma. I was hoping you guys wouldn't be here and she could just see it and move on."


"That's ok, Carl. You don't have to apologize for the misbehavior of adults."


"Misbehavior?" Gawking at my word usage, Lori fully turns my way, as though she is now ready to target her ire my way. But I'm ready for her vitriol and tantrums. And unlike Rick I don't have any fond memories that might lessen the sting of my sharp tongue.


"Yes, Lori, misbehavior. I'm not sure what it is that gives you the unmitigated gall to use your son like this, and to try to use my husband to help you clean up the mess that you made of your own life. I can't fathom the amount of nerve you must be harboring in that head of yours. But what I can tell you is that there is nothing here for you. Yes, my husband bought this house for us, for our growing family," I rub my hand in smooth circles over my barely there tummy, and smile as I watch her eyes dart from there to my face, looking for confirmation of the truth. "And for our boys. But without a court order saying that Rick has to give you more money for Carl's child support, which you will never get, or that he needs to cover your insurance, which you also won't get, then you need to figure out how to solve your own financial issues. Don't bring your drama here anymore. We're not interested."


"Rick, are you going to let her talk to me like this? I've known you for more than half of your life! You just met this woman!"


"She's my wife, Lori, and she's right. Listen, Michonne can't have the stress right now, ok? And there is nothing I can do to help you with Shane. You need to take him to court or something. This simply isn't my problem."


"I see. I hope you see how he's treating me, because this could easily be you one day. You and me are the same, Michonne. Rick likes women like us. Women who need him to 'fix' things, to save them. He'll do everything to give you the world, until you make a mistake. Don't ever let him see that you're not perfect. Because then you'll see, he's also an unforgiving asshole. Yeah I messed up, fell in love with a man who could never love me the way I loved him, and now the world wants to punish me for the rest of my life because of it. I didn't win any wife or mother of the year awards, but I tried! And dammit, I'm entitled to some consideration here. You loved me once, we were married. I gave you a son."


"Lori, stop this! You cheated on me with my best friend! When does this end? You made your choice, and I'm not punishing you for it. I moved on, and I'm not going to stand for you coming here and trying to start shit with my wife."


"Mom, let's go. Ok?" Carl pleads, trying as expected, to be the one to settle things, to placate his mother and arbitrate between her and Rick.


Walking towards the door, and opening it for her, I gesture my hand in a sweeping motion, inviting her to leave. "Yes, Lori, it's time for you to go."


"Fine. I'm leaving, but I hope you heard what I said, Michonne. You're just Rick's new project. Regardless of how this all looks, I do hope it all works out for you. That you get to stay in the light of his favor, because when he turns his back on you, and leaves you in the dark, it's a cold place to be. But, he's done it before. He'll do it again. There's nothing special about you that wasn't special about me at one time." Flouncing away, and down the path to her car, Lori makes her dramatic exit. Carl follows behind, dragging his feet, and waving a hasty goodbye over his shoulder.


Her car's departure, leaving a cloud of dust from the tires' squealing over the gravel in the driveway, marks the end of Lori's most recent theatrical turn as the angry ex-wife.


"I should explain."


"What's there to explain, Rick?" I ask, my back to him, still looking out of the front door. My thoughts are racing, scrambling to make some sense, find the logic in what Lori said. Is there something to it? Could she be right about Rick? Am I just another damsel in distress, waiting for the big bad sheriff to save me? That's not how I've ever seen myself, or this thing with Rick, but… Have I been blinded by the majesty of this whirlwind romance? Scoffing at her attempt to create a wedge of questioning discernment between my husband and I, I straighten my spine, resolving to not give Lori what she's looking for. I've been here before. I let Shane play my insecurities against Rick. Not again.


"Michonne? Did you hear me?" Feeling the weight of Rick's hand on my shoulder, I allow myself a sideways glance to take note of his presence, his close proximity. I can even still smell my scent on him, his scent on me. But there is something else there now, and I can't quite tell what it is. Fear. Fear that I consumed the twisted lies that Lori is feeding me, bloating my gut with distrust. "Michonne, baby. She's wrong. Ok? You're not like her. This isn't like with Lori. You know that right?"


"I know that. We have to be honest with each other though, Rick. Even if it hurts. Promise me. If you ever decide that this is no longer what you want, you tell me. Don't be a coward and leave me twisting in the wind. Be the man that Mike couldn't be, and just say it."


"Babe, there's nothing to say. I didn't save you, you saved me. The vows I said to you on our wedding day, that's the truth. Not this bullshit that Lori is spewing."


"I believe you, Rick. I'm just telling you. I won't hold it against you if you're honest with me. Isn't that what you wanted from Lori? For her to just be honest and tell you that she was in love with Shane. That's what I wanted from Mike. All those nights he didn't come home, or when he did come home, but couldn't muster the nerve to come to my bed. To look me in the eye and just tell me it was over." I grit out, emotion choking me. But not tears. No, this time it's the dangerous grip of anger seizing me. Fresh, hot anger, bubbling and rising from the black cauldron of pain that I try so hard to keep secreted away from the happiness of my new life.


"I love you, Michonne. This is it for me. Me and you. That's the truth. That my truth."


"Rick, we've both survived so much, and we're here. Maybe because of what we've both been through, or in spite of it, I don't know. What matters is what we do with this. We can find a way to have the life we want, but only if we do this. The truth is what is going to make or break us, Rick. I can't survive another marriage of lies."


"I know that, Michonne. Me either. No lies, baby."


"Ok." As I say it, agreeing that lies will be the death of us, I resolve to tell him about the case, and to recuse myself. I'm not going to self-sabotage my marriage by keeping this from him any longer. I can't. "I need to get back to the city and make a few calls. Some work stuff. Can we go now?"


"Yeah. Let me go make sure everything is locked up and secured. I'll meet you in the truck."




 


"So this guy who's coming in, Shane Walsh, why is he so important to this case?"


"Because he's the new DA in King County, served as the ADA under the last one. The one who did not pursue criminal charges against Deputy Monroe. But also because he was a sheriff's deputy there for awhile. When Paul came back with some research on the town, his name came up plenty of times." Pointing towards a manila folder that holds the grand amount of research and information that my investigator Paul was able to dig up, I can feel tension riding my muscles at the thought of seeing him again.


"Got it. And the other guy, Rick Grimes, that's your new husband right?"


"Right."


"Anything else I should know about this case before we get started?" Andrea asks, as she thumbs through the papers in the folder, writing notes in the margins of her legal pad.


"I dated Shane Walsh. Briefly. One kiss, no sex."


Shock colors her face, and raises her blonde eyebrows over her dramatic blue eyes. "Really? Is he hot?"


"Yes. Very."


"Oooh. Explain."


"Tall, dark eyes, dark hair, nice build. Great kisser. A little aggressive. But trouble. Big trouble."


Smacking her lips, she closes the folder and taps her manicured finger on the cover. "Sounds right up my alley actually. And he was friends and partners with your husband?"


"Yep."


"Girl, you can't make up good dirt like this."


"I know. It's crazy as hell. He's also the guy that my husband's ex-wife cheated on him with, but apparently she was Shane's girlfriend first when they were in high school. Oh, and she's pregnant by him now." In a stream of consciousness confession, I let Andrea in on the rest of the unseemly details surrounding Rick, Shane, and Lori.


"By your husband!?"


"No! By Shane. And he doesn't want anything to do with her."


"Damn! What fresh hillbilly hell is this?" Rolling her eyes, and scoffing in disgust, Andrea doesn't seem as interested in how hot Shane might be any longer.


"Girl, stop. I told you he's trouble. But, not my Rick. Rick is… Rick is different. He's good."


"Well I guess so. Look at all those stars in your eyes just saying his name. Geez, Michonne, you got it bad, girl. Rick and Michonne sitting in a tree, k-i-s-s-i-n-g. First comes love, then comes, marriage, then comes a baby in the baby carriage!" Andrea sings, teasing me but not knowing just how right she is. "You know, I should give you guys a name like, uh Brad and Angelina, Brangelina right?"


"What?"


"Oh wait! I got!" Snapping her fingers, she smirks at me. "Richonne!"


"What? Oh god no! We're not famous, and even though that name is cute, we don't need a merged name. I'm still Michonne, he's still Rick. You'll see, I'll properly introduce you after we get through today."


"Fine. Let's get this over with so I can meet this sexy bit of trouble, and your new husband. And, you do know how to keep things interesting, Michonne. Always have."


"Not on purpose. Believe me." Tossing my hair over my shoulder, I rub my hand over my growing stomach, and grimace at the growing hunger pains unfurling there. I just had breakfast an hour ago, but Rick's babies have an appetite that is truly voracious. Eyeing Andrea's cheese Danish, I wonder if I have enough time to run to the break room and grab a donut.


"Well, either way I appreciate you giving me this case. This is much more interesting than what I had on my plate. This has a 'In the Heat of the Night', small town intrigue feel to it."


"Andrea, I'm just glad you were free to take it. I really want justice for Glenn, he deserves it, and I can't jeopardize that with my own conflict of interest."


"I understand."


And I know she does. Andrea and I go back a long way. We met as associates at our first jobs right out of law school. She got mixed up in an affair with a senior partner whose wife, Lucille, found out and tried to literally murder her. After all of that drama, Andrea moved away from Atlanta and went into private practice. But, she's been back in the city for years now, and it feels good to have my old colleague around. Even if I am going to be hanging up the practice of law for awhile.


I decided yesterday morning, as I watched my husband wearily rise before 5 AM, and quickly scarf down the breakfast I prepared for him, so that he could get back to King County on time for work, that I was done working. We haven't fully figured out the housing just yet, especially with the new house about to be completely gutted and rehabbed. So Rick spends most nights in the city with me, but last night he decided to stay in KC. It was unsettling, and it only served to further bolster my desire to semi-retire.


Thanks to my app, a generous divorce settlement from Mike, and smart investing, I don't need to work. And I don't intend to. I'm going to enjoy this second chance at life, and I'm going to be staying home with my babies. Like I mentioned to Rick the other day, Carl and Andre only have two years left with us before they leave for college, and I want that time to be special. For us to be together as much as possible. There is so much I still have to discover about my step-son, and so much I still need to teach my other son. We all simply need more time. And since I don't know any other way to make that happen, I'm going to be a stay at home mom for awhile and see how that works.


At best, I figure I'll be driven crazy by feedings, potty training, and diapers, but will get to spend more time with my family at best. At worst I'll be driven back to work. Either way it could be worse, I could have none of that, which is where I thought I would be. When Mike and I first had Andre we were so young, and hungry for careers that we missed out on a lot with him. I don't want to sacrifice that this time around, and I'm not going to. Things for Rick and I are going to be different. They have to be.


Sitting back in my chair, I cross my legs and take a sip of my peppermint tea, grateful that Rick called this morning and reminded me to grab some on my way into the office. His presence was sorely missed, even as I was mulling over how to proceed with today's depositions without ruining my marriage. This is all such a delicate situation that I simply have not been able to identify a way to tell him prior to today, without jeopardizing Glenn's case in some way. My heart kept telling me that I needed to tell him, prepare him, but my mind kept shutting that down. I know how this goes. I can't show bias or favoritism to him by filling him in, or break attorney client privilege. And while I know Rick doesn't have anything to do with the case exactly, I know how he feels about these kinds of things. I can hear him now telling me how police work isn't always black and white. There isn't always a clear cut right or wrong. We don't agree there, and our polarizing opinions on a situation like this one could easily do some serious damage to my marriage, outside of the conflict of interest and privilege issue.


So like a coward I didn't say anything. Not yet. My plan is to have Milton let me know when Rick gets here, and quickly try to prep him before hand. And since I've turned the case over to Andrea officially as of today, it wouldn't be a total conflict of interest. Not totally. My own personal interests, my marriage, could negatively impact and dilute my ability to be earnest and vigilant on my client's behalf. I need to step away from this for all of our sakes. At least that's what I tell myself as I continue to mull this over, when the door to the conference room opens, and in walks Shane.


Shane Walsh. My god he's even more handsome than the last time I saw him, and all that does is confirm to me what my Granny used to say about the devil appearing as more beauty than beast. And that's how he gets you.


Popping up from her seat, Andrea quickly stands and offers her outstretched hand to greet him. "Mr. Walsh, thank you for coming. I'm Andrea Turner, the attorney representing Mr. Rhee in his civil case against Deputy Monroe."


"Nice to meet you. And who do we have here? Well, it's nice to see you again, Munchkin. I mean Mrs. Anthony. Or is it Grimes now? Yeah I think I heard that somewhere. Congrats!" Thrusting his hand out towards me, Shane locks his gaze on me, his eyes dropping to take in the snug fit of how my breasts push against my silk blouse. I haven't worn this shirt in over a year, and I didn't realize until it was too late how tight it now is across my breasts.


"Mr. Walsh. You can call me, Mrs. Grimes."


"Whatever. It's nice to see you either way. You look good, as always. I've missed you. Wanted to explain some things to you, but that husband of yours. He's got a bit of a violent temper. I don't know if he told about the little run in he and I had. He attacked me, warned me off of you."


"What?"


"Didn't know about that, huh? Broke my nose. Did even worse to Jessie Anderson's husband, though it's about time the whole town stopped ignoring that mess and handled him."


Shaking my head, whirling from everything that Shane just divulged, I'm quickly trying to redirect this conversation and take control of the direction. "That's not what we're here to discuss, Mr. Walsh. I think we should focus on this deposition and leave our personal lives out of this." Why am I stuttering? It's the way he's looking at me. That wolfish grin and hungry glare of his, picking me apart as though he can see right through my clothes. And what did Rick say to him? And he broke his nose?


"Fair enough. We can catch up later. Don't tell Rick." Winking he takes a seat directly in front of me, and eases back into his chair.


Stepping in, Andrea wrests Shane's attention back towards her, as she presses the record button on the video camera. "I hope you don't mind, Mr. Walsh, I'm going to record this to help ensure accuracy, and preserve your testimony for court records. I'm sure as a DA you are familiar with that practice."


"Of course."


"I understand that you are acting as your own representation. Is that right?"


"That's right."


"Alright, let's proceed. Please be sure to listen to the questions carefully, and answer them clearly and precisely. I would like to remind you that you are under oath and false statements made under oath could result in civil and criminal penalties."


"I'm aware."


"Good. Today we are discussing a case regarding the Plaintiff, Glenn Rhee, whose first cause of action is for the violation of his rights, secured by the rights guaranteed under the First, Fourth and Fourteenth Amendments to the United States Constitution to be free from gratuitous and excessive force and free from retaliation for reporting incidents of misconduct to a policing agency. As a direct and proximate result of this abuse, Plaintiff sustained damages in an amount to be determined at trial should we get there. The Plaintiff's second cause of action is for intentional assault and battery in violation of the laws of the State of Georgia. Basically, the Plaintiff asserts that in the course of a traffic stop, that the Defendant, Deputy Spencer Monroe, not only illegally searched the Plaintiff's vehicle, but also utilized excessive force against him, and assaulted him, causing him to sustain numerous physical and emotional damages. This deposition serves as a part of the discovery portion of this civil lawsuit. Do you understand?"


"Yes."


"Good. When you were a sheriff's deputy in the King County Sheriff's department during 2008, you received numerous complaints regarding your alleged use of unnecessary force, police harassment, and abuse. Is that correct?"


"If that's what my records reflect."


"Do you know the reason why you were never suspended or fired for any of those complaints?"


"Nothing to them. No merit. Unsubstantiated claims mostly. Criminals don't like to be caught and arrested, so they complain." He shrugs dismissively, even as his gaze wanders from Andrea as he answers the question, then back to settle on me, causing me to squirm a bit in my chair.


"What about the last complaint you received prior to leaving the force? A complaint filed by a Daryl Dixon, asserting excessive force whereby you applied an illegal choke hold to subdue Mr. Dixon. Do you recall this situation, Mr. Walsh?"


Clasping his hands together on the table, Shane leans his upper body on the table, then slightly turns his body my way. In a tone more serious than the one he has been using, he responds to Andrea's most recent question. "I do. My partner at the time, Rick Grimes, might recall it as well." Locking eyes with me, Shane offers this tidbit, but I keep my face stoic. I won't allow him to play me again.


Nervously, Andrea stutters for a moment, clearly caught off guard by Shane name dropping my husband. She briefly looks over to me to gauge my reaction. Not offering one, she shrugs off her initial shock and continues with her line of questioning. "Why do you think you were not fired or suspended for this? According to our research, the Sheriff's department settled for an undisclosed amount with Mr. Dixon in order to prevent him from filing formal charges against the county."


"I don't know. It wasn't really commonplace to terminate deputies for that kind of stuff back then under that sheriff. Though miraculously, I was encouraged to resign. I guess I wasn't in with the right crowd. Everyone knows being friendly with the Monroes can mean the difference between having to leave a job you love, and being named the next sheriff. It's all about who you know, and who knows you. Hell, Pete Anderson has been beating his wife for years, and everyone knows it. Deanna Monroe knows it. But, he is one of the top surgeons in the state. And where does he practice out of? King County General."


"We can come back to that bit regarding the Monroes later, but I would like to first delve further into the facts of the complaint that led to your eventual resignation."


Huffing, releasing an exasperated breath as though Andrea's unwillingness to be redirected at his urging ruffles his feathers a bit, Shane leans back in his chair and caught by my partner and I, selling in a school zone. They attempted to flee. Rick and I weren't having that. Everyone in King County knew us. We didn't tolerate a lot of the stuff you see going on now. It wasn't about being politically correct, or respecting the feelings of bad guys. When the perps ran, we pursued. Rick handcuffed Merle to one of the poles on the jungle gym on the playground, and unfortunately Daryl was a little trickier to apprehend and subdue. He tried to run, I had to take him down. As any good law enforcement officer can tell you, it's not always black and white out there. Sometimes you do what you have to do. Like I said, ask 'Officer Friendly', I mean Rick." Shane laughs, and it's the return of that same knowing smirk I've seen before from him. Reminding me of the night he told me about Rick kissing Jessie.


"Mr. Walsh, are you saying there are no limits to the violent tactics a deputy can use when he's on duty?"


"I'm saying that violence is apart of what law enforcement officers do. It's a part of who they are. Protecting and serving, keeping the public safe comes at a cost."


"Is it common that deputies are not reprimanded or dismissed for this kind of misconduct?"


"Who said it's misconduct? Define that for me, please." Shane responds, agitation seemingly growing by the frustrated scowl dipping his thick eyebrows between his eyes.


Disturbed by what I would consider a frightening indictment of not only his own dangerous sentiments regarding his time as a deputy, but also of the character of the man I love, I can no longer tolerate Shane's smug demeanor and decide to help settle his rancorous response. "I don't think it's beneficial to play word games, Mr. Walsh. I believe that as an attorney you are well aware that as a peace keeper in the state of Georgia, a sheriff's deputy using undue force can be considered in violation of Section 1983 of Title 42 of the United States Code, which is a part of the Civil Rights Act of 1871. Meaning that undue acts of violence in the course of peace keeping can be constituted as a civil rights violation and therefore are examples of misconduct. Would you say that the King County Sheriff's Department is known for a pattern of civil rights violations that go unpunished?"


"I'm not saying any of that, Mrs. Grimes. Anyway, it sounds like you ladies already know everything. Not sure what you needed to call me in here for. I don't know anything about Deputy Monroe's case, nor a pattern of any wrongdoing. So, see, you're so smart you already know more than I do."


"I don't think we do. Why don't you go ahead and elaborate on the role that the Monroe family plays in King County now. Deanna Monroe is the mayor. Her son, Spencer Monroe is the defendant in this case. Do the Monroes have a history of colluding with government officials to mask prosecutorial and police misconduct, Mr. Walsh?"


"I don't know."


"But you seemed to allude to that in your testimony just a little bit ago."


"I don't recall saying that explicitly, Mrs. Grimes."


Just as I'm about to continue with my takeover of the questioning, to attempt to further discover anything that could help Glenn, the conference room phone begins to buzz, indicating that a call is coming in from an internal phone line. Hitting the button to connect the call, the voice of my assistant Milton filters through the room.


"Michonne, Rick Grimes is here in the lobby for his deposition. Should I send him over to the conference room?"


"No, Milton, please escort him to my office. I will join him shortly." Clicking the button to disconnect the call, I turn to Shane and Andrea. "Please excuse me. Ms. Turner will continue with the deposition." Rising from my chair, I tug my pencil skirt down from where it has gathered around my thighs. Much like my blouse, it's fitting tighter than I expected, and I grimace at the fact that all of my clothes are beginning to fit this way. Placing my hand over the tiny swell of my stomach, mindful of the growing reason why I will soon need a new wardrobe, I begin to swiftly walk towards the conference room door.


Before I can leave, Shane jumps up from his chair and halts my progress by placing his large body in my path. "Can we talk privately before you go?" Grazing his hand slowly down my arm to my left hand, Shane takes a hold of it, and brings it his face. Positioning my fingers so that he can inspect my wedding rings, he drops his eyes momentarily, then releases a heavy sigh as he kisses my knuckles.


Withdrawing my hand from his, my eyes dart over to where Andrea is watching our interaction, her eyes wide with as though she's viewing one of her favorite soap operas. Rolling my eyes as the is dramatic turn, I cross my arms over my chest and huff. "I don't think we have anything to talk about, Shane."


"I just want to apologize for how I acted before. The whole Jessie and Rick thing. I didn't lie-"


"But you didn't provide any honest context either did you, Shane?" I whisper, not wanting to really get into this in front of Andrea, or draw any further attention to the conference room with it's see through glass walls.


"I really liked you, Michonne. When I saw that I had lost to him again, I just didn't handle it well. But I didn't lie then, he kissed her. And I'm not lying now. It was wrong for me not clarify that, but… You and I could have had something." Lowering his voice as well, which only deepens the throaty grind of his rough tenor, Shane angles his face closer to mine. Rubbing his hand backwards over his head, a move that signals his increasing frustration, he continues. "Listen, KC isn't like Atlanta, and yes a lot of things go on there that wouldn't fly here. Rick will confirm that. We spent many days and nights hitting those streets to keep folks safe, and yes, it sometimes came at a price. Guys like Daryl Dixon paid that price, that's what they deserved. Rick would agree with that too. And the Monroes keep a tight hold on things to ensure that it stays that way. That's all I can say. I have a job to keep."


"And apparently a baby on the way." Widening my eyes and pursing my lips, I communicate to Shane that yes I know about Lori and the baby.


"He told you."


"He told me."


"Did he tell you she was my girl first? That he's the one who took her from me. Just like he did with you."


"This is the second time I've had someone try to draw parallels between Lori and I. We're nothing alike, Shane. This thing between you and Rick, I don't know what to say except that I've made my choice. We're married, and I'm pregnant. So there's nothing left for us to discuss. I liked you too, but you showed me exactly who you are, Shane, and Rick didn't have to do anything to get me to see that I didn't like what I saw. Now if you'll excuse me."


Sidestepping him, I steady myself on my towering heels and toss open the conference room door. As I leave the room, a familiar knot of tension forms in my stomach, and given what I have just learned from Shane, and the fact that my husband has no idea what is about to happen, I know this feeling has nothing to do with the babies housed there. Rounding the corner to my office, I see Rick standing in front of my desk, clad in his brown and tan uniform. With his sheriff's hat in one hand, and a picture of Andre in a black frame in his other, I'm momentarily frozen. The picture is this year's school one, so I know that Rick recognizes who it is.


Pushing the handle on the heavy glass door, I enter my office and wait for Rick to turn around. A moment passes, and he still hasn't turned to acknowledge me, which is very much unlike him. We can usually sense the other's presence instantly, and of course Rick never lets me enter a room without that grin of his welcoming me. But not this time. I'm only received by the stiff expanse of his broad back as he maintains his stance turned away from me. Then he speaks, and it's like my heart stops simply from the sound of the tortured grit in his tone.


"So, you're Anthony & Associates?"












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