Like it Was Before

The afternoon soon cleared up and turned beautiful once more, the rain little more than a temper-mental cloud burst, relieving some of the heat and humidity that had gathered, cooling the air. I've actually shrugged into one of Shane's flannel shirts over my cutoffs and climbed atop the RV to sit with Dale, (who has given up on tinkering with the RV) while he keeps watch.
From my perch I can see Lori, Carl, and Shane sitting around one of our many fire pits, Shane talking animatedly telling some story.
I can't hear a word that's being said but just seeing them like that resembling a family unit is enough to make me feel melancholy, something that Dale notices almost immediately.
"You doing okay there, Savannah?" I nod past the absurd lump in my throat. "Want to talk about it?"
I take a deep breath and exhale, slowly. Then, I blurt,
"I wish I didn't feel like I have to work so hard to keep Shane sometimes."
Surprised at myself, I swipe at my face furtively where a number of traitorous tears have fallen.
Dale does not, I note, rush in to reassure me. So I wasn't imagining this, or at least not quite.
I wasn't sure if that was comforting or not.
Maybe I can shrug it off, blame the outburst on PMS, I'm hoping, already trying to forget that this conversation even happened. Before I can speak and humiliate myself further a car alarm begins to sound in the distance, snapping everyone to attention.
I shoot to my feet, heedless of the fact that my balance is precarious at best to catch a glimpse of a wailing red sports car coming our way. I can't help myself-I laugh.
Even more so when Glenn pops out like some manic jack in the box.
He just looks so pleased with himself that it makes me smile.
I take my time descending and approaching the group, who's already either playing a rapid-fire game of 20 questions or arguing, making make my way over just as a moving van pulls up, spilling out the rest of our people, sans Merle.
Shane, in an unexpected move draws me to him, wrapping an arm around my waist.
Maybe I'm being silly about him and Lori after all. Maybe Shane's just being-
My thought abruptly go blank as I see the last passenger leave the van. It's him.
Without thinking about it I reach over and grip Shane's hand, drawing his attention back to our Atlanta survivors. Our Atlanta survivors...and Rick.
I can't believe it; talk about back from the dead.

xx

Something fundamental changes in Shane once Rick's returned, something he vehemently denies when I cautiously broach the subject. Everything's Fine, just Fine. He's worried about Daryl being a 'loose cannon', worried about the group going back into the city, but you'd never know that from listening to him talk. Sometimes it feels like we've fallen into the Grimes' old rut, not that it bothered Shane much. Shane could be as stubborn as a mule when he wanted to be and he was digging his heels in on this one, refusing to fucking speak which of course makes me nuts. It was to the point where he was volunteering for watch shifts and I was sleeping alone.
Or, sleeping as best I could without that asshole lying next to me, worrying about him out there.
Everyone was up by the time I rolled out of our tent a few mornings later, making me feel lazy-Carol was folding more laundry, Glenn was yelling about 'his' car being stripped down and I got busy using the last of our jugged reserves to wash up the breakfast dishes. Shane came roaring up in that old Jeep of his right after I'd started announcing to everyone that he was going off to get more water. I pointedly ignored him for as long as I could.
"You wanna come?" Shane calls over anyway, his intent written clearly on his face making Rick laugh and making Lori stand up ramrod straight a disbelieving look on her face. "Savannah Jane?"
I almost hate him for doing this to me, but not as much as I almost hate myself for playing along. I'm debating, close to turning him down, begging off and blaming the dishes when Andrea approaches me, nudging her hip to mine. "I've got these-you go help Shane."
I snort. 'Help'. Still...he was in a good mood this morning and that was rapidly becoming all to rare.
I glanced from Andrea to Lori, watching me intently waiting to see what I'd decide. The look on her face makes my mind up for me. He's mine, bitch, I think and climb into the passenger side before I can change my mind. Once I'm there, though, I find myself very nearly excited. For a moment it's all too easy to pretend it was like old days where we'd go for drives down the forgotten King County dirt roads and neck like teenagers, learning what made each other tick.
"Come on, Walsh," I smile. "Let's go."

xx

He's flying down the trail towards the water much too fast and the wind is blowing my hair into my face. Incredibly, Shane has slipped a CD into the player and Skynyrd is serenading us. Simple Man. We barely make it around the curve and out of everyone's eyesight when he slows the Jeep down, taking one hand off of the wheel and placing it on my leg, making me laugh.
"Why, officer Walsh, are you getting fresh with me?"
This makes him smile, something I don't see often enough anymore and nods his head.
"Yes ma'am, I am."
"Well, in that case," I take his hand and place it higher (much higher) up making him jerk the steering wheel in surprise. Automatically, I reach over and help him correct it, simultaneously arching up into his hand. "Steady," I almost laugh, breathless, still steering.
Shane's splitting his time between looking at me and the trail ahead and I catch him licking his lower lip as he resumes full command of the wheel and finally, finally, his hand starts to move.
Yes, I think, the flat of his palm pressing into me. Spurned on by his actions, I skim my tank top over my head, leaving it to puddle in the floorboard beneath my feet.
"Savannah," Shane tries to warn, but he's laughing and hell, so am I, almost to the creek now and wrestling with the button on my shorts to give him better access, which he immediately takes advantage of, his big hand sliding into my panties, making himself right at home.
"What's the matter, Shane?"
I tease, reaching over to take his cap off before tugging on his hair, leaning in to nuzzle his ear, pretending to be aloof to his prowess even as I lose my breath. "Afraid you'll rear-end somebody?"
"Dammit, Savannah Jane," he laughs, exasperated with me and I bite at his ear, tugging on the lobe playfully. Mine, I think again.
I'm about to tease him some more but he beats me to the punch touching me in what he knows good and well is the exact place to make me shut up, make the whole world go away. "Oh, babe," I gasp, rapidly losing myself to him and he applies pressure and friction. I place a hand on top of his, just to feel him move, to feel his hands making me come, my hips rolling to his rhythm for more and gasping his name. When I open my eyes again, once more aware of my surroundings, breath heaving the Jeep is stopped and we're parked at the quarry, Shane sitting next to me looking very smug and satisfied with his abilities. I have no idea how long we'd been sitting there, and didn't care, either. I felt happy and light for the first time in ages volunteering to help Shane full the water jugs.
His hand moves from my navel where it had been lingering to my breast, mostly visible in my
demi-cup bra and smiles at me, grazing the tops gently, making me shiver.
"Darlin' you seem to have a pretty good handle on jugs, so sure, why not."
Pretending to be mad at him for ruining the moment, I swat at his hand, the one that had just made me so happy, the one attached to the man I love for good or ill, then bite the knuckle on his index finger. "Shut up."
Shane laughs, a genuine, deep-from-the-belly affair and hearing that sound is almost as good as my orgasm had been. God, I loved him.
"You got it."