Declarations

Part 4: Acknowledgment

Rick wanted to lose Lee and Aaron, but the two men seemed hellbent on sticking with them. After leaving the clothing store, the five of them headed across the street to the pharmacy. The drug store had been picked over, but Rick recognized that Michonne had a keen eye. He stayed close to her while paying attention to Carl and the other men.

"What gives?" Michonne asked. They were in the ransacked section of feminine hygiene products. She didn't seem impressed with the display and Rick was trying his best to appear disinterested in her selections.

"What do you mean?"

"You haven't guarded me this closely since I first arrived," she said. "Afraid I'm gonna steal something?"

Rick's pulse quickened at her teasing tone, but the concern in her eyes made him pause. "Not exactly."

"Hmm?" She stuffed the last boxes of Pamprin and Midol into her bag. She'd already snagged the remaining supply of tampons. When she was done, she gave Rick her full attention. "What exactly?"

"It may not be anything."

"You must think it's something or you wouldn't be all over me," she said.

"I'm not...all...over you." He frowned. He looked away to see that the men had separated. Lee was digging through the items on the far wall while Aaron slipped into the back where the stronger medication had been kept. Carl was busy loading his pack with stuff Rick couldn't identify from the distance that separated them.

"What gives, Rick?" Michonne touched his arm.

"We need to cut the cord," he said in a low voice.

She nodded. "They seem taken with you."

"Not me," he said, giving her a pointed look.

"Me?" she mouthed.

"I told 'em you're mine."

Her eyes widened, but the outcry he anticipated didn't come. Instead, her dark brown eyes danced and a faint smile played at the corners of her full lips. Rick was reminded again of numerous fantasies where he didn't wonder how his mouth felt on hers. In those fantasies, he knew the softness of her lips and how her moans vibrated inside him when he held her. Some of his thoughts might have played on his face because Michonne's breath quickened. The air between them charged with the things they hadn't found the courage or the time to say.

A mumbled curse from one of the men startled them. They both looked away to find the culprit. Lee had dropped a bottle of pills onto the floor. He kicked the broken pieces with his shoe.

"Did that settle it?" Michonne asked.

"What? Huh?" Rick asked.

"You claiming me like...stock on an auct—"

"It wasn't like that," he cut in quickly. "They weren't looking at you right and I'll be damned if anyone hurts you. Ain't nobody hurting you or Carl."

"I can take care of myself."

"I know," he said, nodding. "We're all together now. We take care of each other."

"You didn't have to say I was yours."

He met her stare. "No, I didn't have to."

"You could've—"

"It was the best way to make it clear, Michonne." He rubbed a hand over his face and sighed. Maybe he shouldn't have told her, but he promised himself a long time ago that he wouldn't hold anything back from her. She had a right to know what he'd said.

"Rick?"

He pulled his hand from his face to meet her steady gaze.

For a moment, she didn't say anything. Rick began to wonder if he'd imagined her saying his name. His time of hallucination had been long behind him. With Michonne, reality was the preference. Everything about her was vivid. She held mysteries, for sure, but he never felt clearer than in her presence. Even now when the memories of being a love-struck boy in junior high were dogging him like hell.

"Thanks."

His mouth twitched, and he couldn't stop the grin that followed. "My pleasure."

She responded with a faint shake of her head, but there was no negativity in the gesture. Rick had a strong feeling that had they been alone a more fulfilling outcome would have been a strong possibility. Still to keep his promise, he needed to keep his wits about him.

He followed her to the next aisle. They grabbed the remainder of the pain relievers and stuffed them into Rick's knapsack. Michonne giggled as she tossed a can of shaving cream at him. A moment later, his reflexes kicked in as he caught a packet of Bic razors. He remembered the razor she'd given him before the prison fell and her comment that his face was losing the war. He wondered if this was a hint and that she preferred clean-shaven men. By the time the thought to read her expression for answers came to mind, she'd turned away and was now headed toward Carl. Rick added the items to his bag while resisting the urge to rub his beard. The thing did itch and if he trimmed it down, he'd do so because of the itching. Not because he was trying to...

Good grief, he thought. Michonne was flirting with him in her coy way and he knew damn well he'd trim his beard and he'd enjoy every second of it.

"Dad, look." Carl held two bags of cough lozenges. "Some of them are stuck together, but they're edible."

"Not bad," Rick said. "We should save them just in case, though. Find anything else good?"

"More toothpaste and deodorant."

"Thank God," Michonne said.

Carl laughed.

Michonne nudged Rick. "Now, may be a good time."

Rick followed her gaze. Lee had joined Aaron in the back. Whatever meds that had been left behind had captured their attention. Rick nodded in agreement. He pressed a finger to his mouth and pointed for Carl and Michonne to precede him out the door. The trio moved as one to exit the store. Once outside, they broke into a run until they reached the end of the block.

They rounded the corner and came upon a couple of walkers. Michonne beheaded them with a swipe of her katana. Without any words passing between them, they jogged to another block, which led to a neighborhood of row houses. Most had broken windows and missing doors. They paused on the back porch of one of the lesser-damaged homes to discuss their options.

"Think we lost 'em?" Carl asked.

"Maybe," Rick said.

"Are we staying low for awhile and waiting them out?" Michonne asked.

Rick frowned. During their impromptu escape, he'd been listening for the sound of the men's pursuit. He wasn't sure that the men hadn't given up the chase. Lee and Aaron had been so determined to stick with them before. Rick didn't trust that the two men would pass the opportunity that a beautiful woman like Michonne presented. He doubted if they truly saw him or Carl as a threat.

Rick regarded Michonne's stance. The katana was ready in her hands. She had no qualms about killing the dead or the living. There were times, though, that the guilt of almost giving her up ate at him. He wouldn't put her in danger ever again. Although he knew she was a fighter, he needed her to understand he would fight for her and beside her, but she'd never have to face a battle alone again. Not while he still drew breath.

"Well?" she asked.

"They could have a group waiting for 'em," Rick said.

"We could stay here tonight and set traps for them if they come at us," Carl suggested.

Michonne nodded.

"Sounds like a plan," Rick said.

$%^&

The row house proved to be a valuable find. The cabinets contained the treasure of two unopened jars of peanut butter, five cans of sardines, a sealed jar of spaghetti sauce, and a tin of fruitcake. After that discovery, Michonne put Carl on treasure hunt duty while she and Rick set about setting booby traps on the front and back entrances. The windows had been nailed shut and then covered with planks of wood. In the end, their traps weren't nearly as elaborate as those of Rick's friend, Morgan, but they would be enough to startle the men and give the Grimes men and Michonne a warning.

They chose the dining room to set up camp. Rick and Carl braced the dining table against the back door. They carried the curio cabinet to the front room and used it to block the front door. After they were done, they joined Michonne on the floor. A couple of lit candles provided enough light for them to enjoy their meal of sardines ala marinara. They decided to save the peanut butter and fruitcake for the road.

"Not...bad," Rick said, pouring a little more sauce into his sardine tin.

"It's gourmet," Michonne said.

"That it is," he agreed.

Michonne warmed from the way Rick smiled at her. Deep down she knew that his verbal claim of ownership should have pissed her off. In another time and different circumstances, her response would have been outright rage instead of amusement and the growing spark of awareness that continued to flare between them. Sure, for a moment, the idea that he claimed her annoyed her. For a second, the urge to strike swept through her, but the intensity in his blue eyes and the conviction in his voice quelled her initial instinct. Rick meant her no harm. Besides, she didn't mind his hovering. Having him close was soothing, kinda like wearing his jacket.

"I'll take first watch," Rick said. He gathered their empty sardine tins and stood.

"I can help, too, Dad."

"I got it. Get some rest."

"It's not fair," Carl said, "if you and Michonne do all the watches. We need to share. I'll go first. You and Michonne can decide who takes next." He took the tins from his father and headed to the back room.

Michonne regarded Rick. He stood where Carl had left him. A dumbfounded expression marked his handsome face. He scratched his beard and looked down at her.

"Well," he said.

"Have a seat."

She sat cross-legged against the wall. Her new jacket was wrapped snug around her. She hadn't unrolled the blankets they'd taken from the store, but she had a mind to. A chill was creeping through the slats of the floorboards. Her jeans weren't thick enough to block the cold, but she didn't dare suggest starting a fire in the fireplace. Although they hadn't heard anything from Lee and Aaron since they left them in the pharmacy, Michonne didn't take for granted that the men had left the vicinity.

Rick returned to the floor. He claimed Carl's spot beside her and sat closer than he needed to. When she didn't move, he scooted another inch toward her. Michonne gazed at the flickering flame of the candle, half-afraid that acknowledging Rick would spook him and send him scooting in the other direction.

"I'll go next," he murmured in his distinctive drawl.

"And then forget to wake me for my turn?" She tilted her head as she questioned him.

He fixed her with a slow, lazy smile. "Would I do that?"

"Yes, I think you would."

He shrugged. His non-verbal answer revealed more than enough.

"You need rest, too," she said.

Rick frowned. "I'm better. Not nearly as sore as I was."

"Yeah," she said, "but you're still healing. You can't heal properly without proper rest."

"Where'd you get that from?" he asked.

She drew her knees to her chest and hugged tight. "Hershel."

A solemn vibe came upon them. Rick nodded. To her surprise, he extended his hand, palm up. More surprises came when she accepted the invitation. He laced his fingers through hers, applying gentle squeezes now and then. Michonne pondered that this was Rick's offer of comfort for their shared grief over a fallen friend.

They sat close for minutes longer than Michonne could count. If Carl noticed as he made periodical rounds past them that his father held her hand, he didn't let on. After awhile Rick became so still and his breathing so even that she believed he was asleep. She lowered her legs and forced her mind to think of nothing. Just as her mind drifted to the state of emptiness, the faint caress of Rick's thumb against her palm reawakened her senses. A tremble that refused to be contained claimed her from head to toe. He shifted again until his arm brushed her shoulder.

Michonne knew that acknowledging his proximity could change everything. Fear had driven her after losing Mike and Andre. She'd believed that becoming a monster was better than allowing anyone in, but finding Andrea made her question that belief. Then Carl tugged at her, Daryl, Herschel, and Rick. If she was honest, she'd admit that pull to Rick was different. He made her feel...different. He made her want...things.

She turned her head and discovered that he'd been watching her. But the question she normally read in his blue eyes was gone. Michonne saw calm assurance and conviction. He cocked his head a bit as if to ask if she was in agreement. Her response was interrupted by voices from the other side of the wall.

Rick pressed a finger to his mouth. She nodded.

"We're wasting time out here, man."

"I don't think they headed back to the woods," the other man said. "They ran this way."

"They could've doubled back. It's been over an hour."

"Shit, Aaron," Lee said. "Stop being such a little bitch."

"Not liking the dark doesn't make me a bitch," Aaron said. "Just cautious."

"Her ass alone will get Sherri off our case," Lee said.

"Her mouth."

"Man, she'd be good for the best trades," Aaron said. "The tops."

"Maybe she's too good for Sherri."

"Think we should keep her," Lee said. "See what we could get without the middleman."

"After we take a few samples."

"Fuck yeah."

Their voices became muffled as they moved away. Rick's grip on her hand had tightened as the men's conversation progressed. The scuff of Carl's boots on the hardwood floor broke them from their silence. Michonne pulled free of Rick's hand and stood. The hatred on Carl's face left her immobile.

"We have to go after them," he said, his voice cracking with emotion.

Rick rose from the floor. One hand rested on his gun that hung from his gun belt. The other hand clenched at his side. His breathing had become heavy. "Carl—"

"No, Dad," Carl said. "They were talking about Michonne... No. If you won't, I'll do it myself."

He stormed toward the door. Michonne and Rick reached him at the same time. She wrapped her arm around his shoulder and drew him close.

"No, Carl. Not like this. For all we know, they'd take you, too."

"They don't know where we are," Rick said. "We'll let them go."

"But the things they said..."

"Ssh." Michonne squeezed his shoulder. "They'll never catch me."

"Damn right," Carl said. "I'll kill them first."

"Carl!" Rick stared at his son.

"Thank you for wanting to defend my honor," Michonne said, cutting in before an argument erupted between father and son. She understood both, maybe better than they understood each other. "Thank you, Carl, but your dad is right. It's dark out there. We have shelter. If we run into them later, we'll see what happens."

"They'll make a play for you," Carl said.

"Then we'll take them out," Rick said. "Get some rest. My watch now. Michonne, you too."

Carl looked ready to protest, but after a brief Grimes standoff, he trudged to his bedroll and lay down. Once he was settled, Rick took her hand and pulled her into the front room.

A bit of moonlight peeked through the boards that covered the windows. Michonne's eyes adjusted to the dim lighting and she noticed the shadows that darkened his face.

"We'll be fine here tonight," she whispered.

He nodded. "It's not that."

She waited in silence for him to elaborate. Minutes ticked away as he simply stared at her. Then he released her hand to take hold of her face. With surprising gentleness, he caressed the swell of her cheeks with the pad of his thumbs. His light touch made his callouses unnoticeable. She reminded herself to breathe, but the anticipation was unbearable.

"I'm going to kiss you," he said in a gruff whisper.

"I know."

Michonne clutched the opening of his jacket just as he bent forward and claimed her mouth. The initial contact was tentative. His beard tickled her soft skin. The hairs weren't as bristly as she had imagined. She felt his smile and tasted the sweet marinara on his breath. Then he leaned in again, more aggressive than before. His tongue teased her lips until they parted. As the kiss deepened, time and place lost meaning. She had wondered if this moment would ever come. Now that it had, she savored every second. When the kiss ended, she pressed a hand to her mouth and stepped back.

"Michonne?" he whispered.

"I'm okay."

"Sure?" His eyes narrowed.

"Yeah." She turned to go join Carl in the dining room.

"Michonne?" Rick whispered again.

She swung around to face him. "Yeah?"

"I meant that."

She nodded, smiling. "I know. I meant it, too."