Michonne taps a resting Rick on the arm as she moves to the end of the bed, awaiting his attention. He lifts his head and turns over onto his back.
“I need your feet,” she tells him, holding a small zippered pouch in one hand.
“My feet. Why?” He asks as he looks down at them and her.
“Come on. Chop. Chop. Off with the socks,” Michonne commands.
“You wanna tell me what this is about?” He asks as he lifts up and starts removing his socks.
“Well, if you must know. I’ve decided to do something about those sheet shredders of yours. The last time we played footsie, I felt like I was being slashed by Wolverine.”
Rick tilts his head slightly, then pouts with a frown. “I think you just hurt my feelings.”
Michonne tries to hide a smile. “Awww….well, I know how to make it up to you.” She grabs one of his feet. “But not before I handle this. Come on.”
She sits down and gets to work while Rick looks on with interest. Several minutes later, she takes a look at her handy work and smiles. “Well, it’s not salon worthy but it’ll do.” She gives his big toes some extra filing before replacing her tools in her pouch, zipping it up and putting it on the night stand.
Rick looks from her to his feet and back to her again, not understanding what the big deal was in the first place but realizing that he liked the extra attention. “So how often are we gonna have to do that?”
“I hope only once a month but from the looks of things, I probably need to handle this every two weeks.” She laughs as Rick starts to pout again. “Don’t act like you didn’t like that. You didn’t complain one time.”
He gives her a smile. “There is just something about your hands on me….anywhere on me.”
