Puppy Love (The Walking Dead Richonne)

Chapter 4 - Cupid has Paws

Michonne pushed aside the curtain to her cell and walked in, propping her sword up in its usual spot by the entrance. She sat down on her bed and let out a sigh.

It'd been a long couple of days. She'd barely seen Rick at all since that morning when she'd accidently kissed him.

There were several near-disasters at the prison, mostly revolving around the growing clusters of walkers at the fences, which kept Michonne and the others very busy. She didn't mind keeping busy, it was good to have a job to do.

At first, she had resolutely decided to pretend that the kiss had never happened. It was too embarrassing, after all, to even think of talking about it. So for a good day and a half, she had managed to put it entirely out of her mind.

Then the questions had started slinking in, whenever she had a few moments to herself. But why hasn't Rick said anything about it? It had really looked like he was going to say something before Carl interrupted.

Then she decided that it only made sense for Rick to act like nothing had happened. He didn't ask to be kissed. If he doesn't care, then I shouldn't either. It's no big deal, Michonne told herself and almost convinced herself that was the case.

Still, in the quiet moments before she fell asleep, when there were no more worries to occupy her mind, she ended up thinking about Rick Grimes...the fleeting soft feel of his lips against hers, the adorable look of surprise on his face, the affectionate looks she sometimes caught him giving her when she was hanging out with Carl...

Michonne lay back on her bed and stretched out her tired legs. She finally asked herself the questions she'd been avoiding the past few days.

Do I want him to say something about the kiss? Do I want him to think about me that way? Do I keep thinking about this because I really want to –

Before she could follow that particular train of thought any further, a distinctive sound caught her attention; the pitter-patter of little paws scampering over the cement floor.

"Boris?" she called out and, sure enough, a brown snout poked under the curtain.

"Come here, Boris," Michonne called, sitting up.

The puppy came into her room, wagging his tail happily.

"Where's your boy?" she asked, thinking that it was odd for Boris to be wandering around without Carl.

Boris didn't have an answer to that, but he had something to show Michonne. He stood on his hind legs and put his front paws on her knees.

"Whoa! What is this?" Michonne realized that the puppy was carrying something in his mouth.

"Boris!" she said firmly, "Let go!" and managed to pry the piece of red cloth out of his mouth.

Michonne let out a laugh when she realized what she was holding. It was a pair of boxers, red with little pink hears all over.

"Where did you get this?!" Michonne asked Boris in bewilderment, but the dog just sat there looking up at her, wagging his tail, clearly pleased with his accomplishments.

"BORIS!" came a loud, deep voice from outside her room.

Michonne looked at the dog, who suddenly looked less happy and more nervous, then at the doorway.

"Rick?" she called, standing up.

"Michonne," Rick said, awkwardly poking his head into her room, "Have you seen-"

He caught sight of Boris and narrowed his eyes. Boris lowered his head and stopped wagging his tail. He looked decidedly guilty.

Michonne pulled back the curtain so she could see Rick fully.