Slumber Party

The Seven times Rick ended up in Summer's bed.

This got really out of character, really quick. Anyway, I realize Rick is a really hard character to write, especially if it's writing about him being nice.

Also, I do not own Rick and Morty.

The First time Summer found Grandpa Rick in her bed, she was shocked.

The day had gone like any other day; mom and dad arguing, Rick taking Morty on another adventure, and Summer catching up on her show, Paradise Hill. She'd stayed up later than she intended when she saw the pale glow of the cable box read as past twelve in the morning.

Sighing, she shut off the television and made her way upstairs to her bedroom.

When she saw that her bedroom door was cracked open she frowned. She always shut it. Pausing, she debated on the passing thought that there could be one of Grandpa Rick's adventure's gone wrong in her room. She quietly pressed on the door and it creaked open slowly. She let out a breath she didn't realize she was holding.

"Grandpa Rick?" She murmured, confused.

There was her grandfather, sprawled out on her bed and drooling all over her pillows.

"Ugh," She groaned out, disgusted. She strode across the room and prodded at her grandfather. He groaned, and squinted up at her.

"S-summer, w-w-what d'ya want?" He slurred. Instead of waiting for a response he just rolled over and fell back asleep.

Dammit! She cursed in her mind. Rick was drunk and passed out on her bed. She stared at him in annoyance for a long moment before sighing. She walked around and tugged off his shoes and he hummed happily in his sleep. She debated on removing his lab coat but decided she wouldn't be able to unless he sat up and that didn't seem like an option.

Standing back, she stared at the man as he slept, open-mouthed and still drooling, on her pink comforter. She pressed a hand against her mouth to suppress a giggle and reached into her back pocket for her cell.

Click

Looking at the picture with a smile, she exited her room and decided to sleep in Rick's bed since he had drunkenly stumbled into hers.

Only when she got there she found that it was already hosting a strange, gooey substance. It bubbled nefariously and Summer quickly retreated back to her room. Rick was still sleeping, but now he was spread eagle, every limb stretched out to cover each corner of her bed.

She debated sleeping on the floor, but fuck that. This was her bedroom. If Rick wanted to fall into her bed he'd better deal with the consequences. With that thought in mind she began the laborious process of making a space for herself.

What was once cute seconds ago was now annoying as hell as she had to roughly shove his body to one side of the bed.

"Fucking hell," Rick groaned as she sufficiently pushed him enough for her to fit on. She was just able to shimmy onto the bed when suddenly Rick was turning over. An arm and leg flopped over her and she felt his nose press against her temple as drool slid against her cheek.

"Ugh, grandpa!" She shrieked quietly as she attempted to push him away. He burped and then, so quick she almost didn't realize he'd done it, pressed a sloppy kiss against her cheek.

"G-go to sleep, baby," He murmured and then squeezed her tighter into his embrace. Summer froze, unsure of what to do. Rick's breath was soft and even against her cheek and his body was almost uncomfortably hot. She tried to disentangle herself once more but he made a displeased grunt and pulled her in further until every part of her side was brushing up against his body.

A blush rose to her cheeks and she sighed quietly as she attempted to fall asleep in her grandfather's constricting embrace.

It was surprisingly easy.

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.

.

"Ugh, goddamn."

Summer jolted at the curse, eyes squinting against the sunlight that seeped from the edges of her curtains. There was a heat at her back and something hard pressed against the curve of her ass. She wriggled against it sleepily.

"Fuck," There was a quiet hiss against her ear and something tightened around her waist. The sleep that fogged her brain evaporated in an instant and she suddenly remembered her midnight guest.

"Grandpa Rick?" She asked quietly. She had shifted to her side at some point in the night and Rick had ended up spooning her in their sleep. A position made more awkward with what she shortly realized was his morning wood prodding against her ass.

"Summer?" Rick groaned, voice still rough with sleep. "What're you doing in my bed?"

"This is my bed." She retorted, annoyed and flushed. Her grandfather shifted behind her, moving in a manner that signified he was looking around at his surroundings.

"Fuck," He said. "Shit." Still he didn't let her out of his embrace.

"Ugh, can you, like, move? Your dick is pressing against my ass." She said, embarrassment painting her words. Rick grumbled and shifted so that while his chest was still pressed against her back, his hips were no longer touching her butt.

"Better?" He asked sarcastically and then buried his face in her hair. Summer blushed harder.

"Aren't you going to leave?" She whisper-shrieked.

"S-summer, I'm tired and getting over a hangover. Can, can you just—just go back to sleep or shut the fuck up or—j-j-just do both, alright?" He commanded and then had the nerve to pull her further against him. She fumed but otherwise stayed in her position.

She was still tired too, dammit. She thought and then drifted back into a soft slumber.

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.

They didn't speak about the incident and life continued on as normal. It was almost a week later when she found Rick on her bed again. And he was drunk. Again.

"Summer!" He yelled, unusually upbeat. There was a dopey smile on his face as drool dribbled down his chin.

Summer sighed and crossed her arms as she looked at him. He was lying on her bed again, only this time his lab coat and shoes were tossed on her floor.

"Grandpa Rick, you're in the wrong room." She told him exasperatedly.

"Y-y-yeah, I kinda lost my—my room is sort of floating in—in some limbo dimension right now." He told her in a blasé manner and then rolled so that he could press his face against one of her pillows.

Summer blinked at him.

"You…lost your room to a limbo dimension?" She asked, beyond confused. Rick nodded his head emphatically.

"Yeah, M-morty pressed something he, eurp, really shouldn't have, and now my room's been sucked into void six."

"Can't you just fix it or something?"

"Well I could, but the process is tedious and I'm riding at the inebriation station pretty hard." He explained and then dragged her comforter up to cover himself with. She frowned.

"Okay, that still doesn't explain why you're in my room." He cocked an eyebrow at her.

"Well, I'm sleeping in here, o-obv-obviously," He told her patronizingly.

"What, no way! Go sleep with, Morty!" Summer demanded. Rick looked disgusted at her suggestion.

"No. He masturbates in his sleep." He told her and Summer shrieked in disgust.

"Urgh, don't tell me that!" He rolled his eyes and gave her a look that indicated he thought she was being immature. She clamped her mouth shut and stewed in her ire.

"S-summer, relax. J-j-just think of it as—as one of those stupid girl things you like—a slumber party."

"I don't have slumber parties with old men," She retorted and watched as genuine annoyance crept into her grandfather's face. Instead of saying anything more he simply pulled her comforter up to his chin and turned so that his back was to her.

She glared at it for a long five seconds and then stomped her way over to her bed. She ripped the sheets low enough to crawl her way in and then settled agitatedly on one side of the bed. It was silent for a moment before Rick made a snarky comment.

"I thought you didn't have slumber parties with old men."

She rolled her eyes.

"Not unless they're named Rick Sanchez, I guess," She commented lightly, set on ignoring him until sleep set in. He made it a little difficult when he turned and ended up spooning her.

"What. The. Fuck." It wasn't exactly the first time he'd done this but he had been drunk out of his mind the first time. To do it again while he was still partially sober was strange to her.

Rick dragged her tightly to him and then buried his face against her hair. His nose was cold as it pressed against the nape of her neck.

"I-I can't—I don't sleep well unless I'm, ugh, I'm holding something," He explained and the admission was startling. It was the closest thing to a weakness she'd heard from him.

"Do you have nightmares, or something?" She asked, unsure of what to do with the sudden knowledge.

"Or something," He intoned, sounding almost solemn.

Summer was silent at that. She fell asleep soon after and in the morning Rick was gone. A strange disappointment welled up in her chest and she wondered if this is how people felt the morning after a one-night stand.

She immediately dismissed the ridiculous sentiment because this was her grandfather she was thinking of.

Trudging downstairs she found the house empty and felt even more melancholy. She glumly went to the couch and flipped through the channels of the interdimensional cable.

She nearly had a heart attack when Rick vaulted over the back of the couch to settle next to her.

"H-hey, that was—Ball Fondlers is on boooyyy. Turn back, Summer!" Summer looked at him, shocked, and he returned her look once he realized she wasn't responding.

"Ugh, how early did you get up?" She asked lamely as she turned to the requested channel.

Rick was watching the show excitedly. "Huh? Oh, like five minutes ago cause I had to, ugh, t-take a piss. I w-w-was going to sleep more but you were—you were down here, already."

Summer wasn't sure why but something pleasant unfurled in her chest and a slow smile stretched across her mouth. Rick glanced at her, suddenly suspicious.

"Why are you smiling like that?"

She chuckled because she wasn't sure why and moved to settle her head against his shoulder. His arm came up and wrapped around her, tucking her against his side and Summer reveled in their closeness.

"Just happy, I guess."

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.

.

"Are you scrolling through my Netflix account?" She asked, aghast.

"It's not like we have it downstairs." Rick said, as if that was all the reason he needed to be lying in her bed again. He was lounging on her bed with her TV remote in hand and frowning at her Netflix que as if it personally offended him.

"Do you have every shitty teen romance involving vampires on your list, Summer? I've already scrolled past the entire Twilight series and Vampire Diaries."

She ignored him as her eyes strayed to his feet and how it rested on her comforter. She gave a disgusted huff.

"Grandpa Rick, if you're going to use my bed at least take off your shoes."

He grunted in annoyance but kicked off his shoes regardless. They landed on the floor with a thump and Summer suddenly realized she had no idea what to do. She debated going back downstairs to watch TV in the living room since Rick had commandeered her TV and bed. She was just turning back towards the door when he spoke.

"W-where are you going?" He asked nonchalantly, eyes still glued to the TV as he scrolled through the options.

"Ugh…" She began unsurely and jutted her thumb at the door. "I wasn't sure if…you know you wanted to be alone or—"

"Don't be stupid, Summer. Who-who-who likes to watch movies by themselves?" He rolled his eyes like the very thought was unfathomable.

Summer continued to stare at him, nonplussed, and Rick avoided her stare by looking to the corner of the room.

"C-c-come watch a— come have some, ugh, quality time with your grandpa." He said gruffly, and his expression had a certain vulnerability to it that made Summer smile.

"Okay!" She said, more eager than she intended. She instantly tried to play it cool. "Let me just change my clothes."

She crossed the room to her dresser and pulled out her lounging clothes; a pair of night shorts and a tank top. For a second she debated just changing in there but the burn of Rick's gaze on her back made her flush so she quickly strode out to the bathroom to change there.

"Bring back snacks—and more booze!" Rick yelled upon her exit and Summer was so happy to have some quality time with him that she didn't even yell out the quip that naturally formed in her brain.

After she was done changing, she microwaved some popcorn and dumped a box of M&M's on it. She grabbed herself some soda and grabbed her father's case of Mike's Hard Lemonade and shuffled it all upstairs.

Rick grimaced when she proffered him his drink.

"W-w-wha—you brought me this bullshit!" He griped and held up a glass bottle, indignant.

"We're out of beer and you drank all the hard liquor. We have wine if you want that?" She simpered, knowing his distaste for her mother's wine. He narrowed his eyes at her as he twisted the cap off and took a large gulp of the drink.

She set her soda's on the shelf next to her bed and slid herself on the mattress until she was sitting flush against Rick's side. She settled the bowl of popcorn on her lap and Rick instantly plunged his hand into the bowl and scooped a handful of the snack into his mouth.

"What're we watching?" He asked around a mouthful of popcorn.

"You can pick," She tells him and prepares herself for something of the Sci-Fi variety, like Star Trek or Serenity. She is pleasantly surprised when he picks Sixteen Candles instead.

Rick catches her expression.

"W-what you thought I was going to pick Star—Star Wars?" He asks and Summer's blush is answer enough.

"Why watch it when you've lived it? I-i-it's like—like reading a book and then seeing the shitty movie adaption." He explained and took another sip of his drink. He offered her a sip and she drank it without hesitation.

"Besides, I think Molly Ringwald and Jake Ryan are hot." He says, biting his lip as he gave her a salacious smirk and even though it wasn't exactly directed at her she still blushed beneath his look and quickly turned back to the screen. He started up the movie and she cuddled up to his side. The movie was starting up when he spoke.

"Is this what they call 'Netflix and Chill'?" He asked and Summer whipped her head up to him so fast she heard her neck crack.

"No!" She screeched, looking horrified. He arched his brow and took in their position.

"I mean we are chilling and watching Netflix," He said, waving to their forms and then jutting a thumb at her TV.

Her mouth moved without sound as a blush rose to her face. She had no idea how to explain the actual meaning behind 'Netflix and Chill' to her grandfather.

Just as she felt like she was about to pass out, she watched as the corners of his mouth twitched in repressed amusement and Summer suddenly realized he was playing with her.

Her mouth snapped closed and she glared at him. Then she smiled.

"Let me teach you how to Netflix and chill, grandpa," She said and then threw her arms around his neck. He pushed away from her so fast that he fell off her bed.

"Goddammit, Summer," He groaned from his position on the floor. One leg was still on the bed, tangled in her blanket, and Summer couldn't stop the guffaws that left her mouth.

"Oh, haha, laugh at your poor, injured, elderly grandfather—that hurt by the way." He slowly picked himself up into a kneeling position and Summer took pity on him and grabbed his hand to help drag him back onto the bed. He settled onto her pillows grumpily and Summer 'awww'ed at him as she knocked her shoulder against his.

"Don't be a baby, grandpa," She teased and Rick harrumphed at her while crossing his arms.

"I'm not being a fucking baby. I almost died. People my age die after taking a fall like that." Summer tilted her head at that.

"I don't think you can die," She told him seriously and when he turned to look at her, her expression melted into something more soft. "At least not for another 100 years, okay?" She requested and it was Rick's turn to cock his head at her. She couldn't read his expression and she didn't have any time to as he suddenly held his hand out to her.

"Rick and Summer for a hundred years, yeah?" He said, tone holding the same vulnerability as when he asked her to watch the movie with him. She took his hand and smiled.

"Yeah. Rick and Summer for a hundred years." His eyes lit up and he smiled at her and it was such a strange expression on her grandpa's usually surly face that Summer found herself unable to hold his stare. She turned back to the television just in time to catch Haviland Morrison's nude scene in the locker room.

"Look, grandpa—your favorite part." She said and then resumed her earlier position of leaning against his shoulder.

Her hand was still in his and something compelled her to lace her fingers through his. He didn't pull away like she expected, just 'hmm'ed as the soft light of the television bounced against their forms and cast shadows along her bedroom wall. She fell asleep halfway through the movie and didn't wake up till the morning after.

Rick had also fallen asleep some time during the night as well; she could feel his warm breath against her neck, his nose once again pressed into her hair. An arm was thrown over her waist and she looked down and smiled.

His fingers were still laced through hers.

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.

.

Summer was steaming when she and Morty passed through the portal.

"H-hey, Summer, I—"

"I don't want to talk about it, Morty," She pleaded, voice cracking as she held back her tears. Morty was silent for a moment.

"Okay…" He appeased gently and Summer walked to her room despondently. She cried for a long while in her bedroom, heartbroken with Rick's treatment of her. She had thought they were finally getting close and in an instant she was shown what a fool she had been.

Some time had passed and she had drifted into an uneasy sleep.

She was awoken when she heard the unmistakable creak of her door being pushed open and then shut. She sat up slowly and rubbed her eye, squinting as she attempted to make out the intruder.

"Grandpa Rick?" She asked unsurely, as her eyes adjusted. He stood in front of her door, steeped in shadows and wobbling on his feet.

"Grandpa Rick?" She asked again, worry seeping into her tone at his silence. He jostled at her words, body shifting all the way to the left before he steadied himself into an upright position.

She saw his brow furrow as he squinted into the darkness. He looked confused when he realized who it was.

"S-s-summer, what're you—" He lurched forward and Summer did a little half-jump from the bed to grab him before he fell. Rick was dead weight as he fell into her, and instead of supporting his weight like she wanted to they crashed backwards into her mattress with the springs protesting against the sudden weight.

Rick was heavy on top of her, surprising considering his thin frame, and Summer was sufficiently pinned beneath him.

She attempted to push him up or to the side but it seemed that Rick was past the stage of functioning motor-skills as he simply sagged against her every nudge. She gave up with a quiet huff of frustration and stared balefully at her ceiling.

Forced in his presence so soon after his damaging and cutting remark had her jaw tensing and eyes watering all over again.

"Why are you always stumbling into my room?" She muttered wrathfully. Rick shifted above her, his head lolling until his lips were brushing against the shell of her ear.

"S-sorry…" He slurred slowly and it took Summer a moment to understand what he said.

"What?" She asked, shocked. Shocked because Rick never apologized, not unless he was apologizing for being related to morons. No, Rick didn't have sorry in his vocabulary.

"I didn't mean…" He mumbled, and then broke off to press his forehead to her temple. "I f-fucked it—fucked it up. M' sorry*," He said and his voice held so much pain that Summer's anger ebbed and abided as concern slowly filled her.

Holy shit, Rick had been depressed drinking. And he must've been massively depressed if he drunk himself into an apologetic stupor. She wondered just how badly his parting with Unity had been.

"Die," He said suddenly, and Summer jumped at the word.

"What?" She asked, alarmed.

"I j-just wanna…" He continued but then panned off mid sentence. Her heart constricted as the full meaning of his words came into focus.

Rick wanted to kill himself.

The realization knocked the wind out of her, tilted her world on its axis. Rick had always been stalwart and unbending, moving to his own rhythm and not giving a fuck about anyone who disagreed with him. He was untouched and uncaring of the world.

To see him so affected in any manner shattered her perception of him. She had never seen this side of her grandfather and it scared the shit out of her, scared her more than watching him kill a man.

She desperately wanted to jump up and run to Morty, shake him awake and lead him to Rick because surely he could fix this. He could do the right thing to comfort their grandfather, could find the right words to make him feel better.

She wanted to do something but all she could do was lay stunned and frightened, scared that any movement would somehow set Rick off. She hoped it would be enough but when her hair grew damp with what she knew to be tears words surged to her tongue and poured past her lips.

"Hey, Grandpa—Grandpa Rick? Don't worry about—" Shit, she almost brought up Unity! She scrambled to come up with a different topic. "Ugh, Don't worry about crashing in my room. I-um—I like that we have these little slumber parties, you know? Morty and you go on adventures while me and you sleep together. It's, um, it's our thing."

She took a moment to think over her words and then flushed when she realized what she'd just said.

Rick didn't seem to catch the implication, thankfully.

"Yeah," He mumbled, voice leveling out and petering into the soft edges of sleepiness. "Yeah. R-Rick and Summer for a—for a hundred years…"

Summer let out a breath of relief and wriggled an arm out from between their bodies so that she could run her hand soothingly through his hair.

"Yeah, grandpa. Rick and Summer for a hundred years."

Rick sagged into her touch and Summer continued her soft ministrations. Just as she thought he'd fallen asleep, he turned his head and pressed his lips against her neck.

"Sorry, Summer," He murmured into her neck.

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.

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"Dad, can you go get Summer, please? She hasn't come down since she came home from school." Beth requested as she set the table.

Rick groaned but stood up regardless.

"S-sure, sweetie." He complied and walked up the stairs to Summer's room. The door was shut but he could hear music on the other side. He knocked on the door and yelled.

"H-hey, Summer!" There was no response. "Summer, c'mon, y-y-your mom wants—there's dinner down stairs." No one responded and he grew a little worried. He pushed open the door.

It was dark and he had to squint but he could easily identify her lying atop her bed with her back to the door. He grimaced as the music continued to play and the lyrics were easier to understand now without the door muffling it.

"I'm not in love

So don't forget it.

It's just a silly phase

I'm going through."

He shut the door and walked to stand at the side of her bed.

"Angsty teen music: check. Though weirdly not from this generation." Rick waited for Summer to retort with her usual sass but it was absent.

He frowned and crossed his arms. She continued to ignore him as 10CC's melancholic words continued to flow through the room.

"Fuck me," He muttered aloud, annoyed, and then flopped unceremoniously on her bed. Summer bounced from the force but stayed with her back to him.

He sighed and stared at the ceiling, waiting in the dark room until Summer decided to speak to him.

He pulled his flask from his pocket and took a sip as he listened to "I'm Not In Love" as it crooned from Summer's speakers.

"I like to see you

But then again

That doesn't mean you mean that much to me

So if I call you

Don't make a fuss

Don't tell your friends about the two of us

I'm not in love, no no, it's because…"

"H-h-hey, Summer, I—eurp—I, ugh, really like your music. It really—really reminds me of, you know, all those shitty—all my fucked up, psycho exes, you know?"

Summer remained silent.

"N-n-not that I'm saying you're psycho or fucked up or anything," He was quick to reassure. "Just that listening to this really brings back some, ugh, s-some uncomfortable—some fucking painful flashbacks."

"I keep your picture

Upon the wall

It hides a nasty stain that's lying there

So don't you ask me

To give it back

I know you know it doesn't mean that much to me

I'm not in love, no no, it's because…"

"Like this part, right here—this part reminds me of my ex—"

He cut himself off mid-speech as Summer whipped around to scowl at him.

"Do you mind?" She snapped. Her eyes were blood shot and her makeup ran beneath her eyes. Rick stared at her face with an unreadable look. He didn't leave like she'd hoped and frustrated tears built in her eyes and she attempted to turn away again so he wouldn't see.

He grabbed her arms before she could and dragged her closer to himself. He turned so that they were facing each other and if she wanted to she could neatly tuck her head beneath his chin. Instead, she glared up at his passive face and then felt a swell of embarrassment as a few tears passed her eyelids.

"Are you gonna tell me what's wrong?"

"Are you gonna tell me what happened with you and Unity?" She retorted and Rick frowned down at her. She shook her head knowing that was mean and unfair of her but talking about it was hard and embarrassing and—

"Summer," Rick interrupted her thoughts, tone and expression stern. She hiccupped and then pressed her face into his blue sweater.

"I…Toby Johnson wanted to have sex and I…didn't." She said, her words muffled. It took Rick a second to understand her and when he did dread coiled in his stomach just as a murderous rage consumed his body. His hands tightened around her forearms and his voice was pitched low with restrained fury.

"Did that motherfucker—" Summer seemed to realize where he was going with his sentence and jerked her face up quickly.

"No!" She yelled, quick to assure him. He squinted his eyes, gauging her expression and whether she was being truthful with him or not.

"Grandpa, no, he didn't—"She broke off to let out a frustrated sigh. "He got handsy with me. Tried to pressure me but I said no. Then he said he didn't want to have sex with a girl who had the body of a ten year old boy, anyway."

Rick let out a snort that conveyed both his anger and disbelief.

"That fucker did not say that." She nodded her head morosely. "Is he fucking blind?" He asked, tone serious.

"Stop, Grandpa," She demanded glumly. "I know I'm not pretty. I—I'm not—I didn't get the good genes that mom has. I just got all the crap ones from dad."

"What does your mom have to do with this?" He asked, bemused.

"Mom was so popular in school. She had all the boys chasing her and she was voted prom queen three times—and one was at a school she didn't even go to*! I bet nobody told her she had the body of a ten year old boy." She sighed then and turned so that her pillow hid half of her face. "I don't even know what I'm saying anymore. Never mind, Grandpa Rick. You can just tell mom I'm not hungry."

Rick had known for a while that Summer had some insecurities when it came to her mother.

Beth was the classic beauty; she had blonde hair, blue eyes, and a generous bust. That beauty on top of her intellect made her a stunning woman. Summer probably compared herself to her mother everyday. Still…

He ran his fingers through her hair, fingering the red strands that glided past his hands like water.

"Red heads are my favorite," He told her and she blinked up at him, stunned. He stared at her face closely, watched as heat bloomed across her cheeks, and then felt like a creep when he wondered where else he could make her blush. He shook his head and pulled back.

"Y-you're a real a—you're beautiful, Summer. Don't let some dick—don't let anyone, make you think you're not."

"I…thank you, Grandpa…" She whispered softly, voice expressing how touched she was by his words. She smiled up at him shyly and her expression was so raw and grateful that he just wanted to find that Toby kid and fucking pummel him into the ground for hurting her like this.

"Y-yeah, whatever. Let's just go down stairs—"Summer shot him a reluctant look and he sighed and rubbed the back of his neck.

"Or we can portal in some pizza and watch a Netflix movie," He suggested exasperatedly. The blinding smile she sent him after stopped his thought process for the first time he could recount.

"I love you, Rick." She said, not tacking on the Grandpa at the beginning of his name like she usually did.

"Fuck you, love isn't real," He said without any real conviction. Summer smiled because she knew the truth and Rick just harrumphed as he pulled out his portal gun.

They ate pizza in her bedroom while watching Mean Girl's and no one bothered them, which was surprising in itself. He thought about leaving as the credits rolled and Summer slept but she clung to his arm in her sleep. He could've shook her off, not give a fuck like usual, but her earlier words came back to him and he found his other arm coming around her waist and his face pressing against her hair.

"I love you, Rick."

Fuck, he thought with more than a little panic. He gripped her tight and she sighed in her sleep and nuzzled further into his chest. Fuck.

The next day Summer found herself alone and it wasn't until noon that she saw Rick again. He walked into the kitchen with a skip in his step and Summer immediately suspected foul play.

"Grandpa, I told you not to kill him—" She yelled as he tugged the fridge open to pull out a beer.

"I shrunk his dick." He interrupted her and she halted and stared at him as he popped the top off a beer can.

"What?" She asked stupidly.

"I shrunk his dick," Rick repeated casually, like one would when commenting on the weather. Then he took a sip of his beer. "He's a whole whopping inch now."

And that, that was so much better than if he had killed him.

She rushed towards him and threw her arms around his shoulders in a crushing embrace. His beer sloshed and dripped on the two of them.

"Summer my beer!" He yelled but instead of pushing her away he drew her in closer.

Later in the day he retreated to the garage as Summer left to a friend's house and he sat at his work bench in the dark.

He listened to I'm Not In Love as it played out of his cellphone speakers and wondered what the fuck he was doing. He was fucking Rick Sanchez. He didn't listen to sad, sappy love songs in the dark like some love sick little girl. He didn't do love. Especially when it concerned his own fucking granddaughter.

He thought about the smile Summer gave him; how it brightened the whole world with its presence.

"What the fuck, Sanchez," He muttered, suddenly realizing how deep he was. The chorus had started up just as the garage door swung open. Thinking it was Summer and not wanting to be caught listening to her sad love music he, in full panic mode, chucked his cellphone on the floor where it shattered upon impact.

The door opened completely and Jerry squinted at him at the entrance.

"Fucking hell, Jerry!" He snapped, hoping his anger would hide his embarrassment. "C-c-can't a man have some—some goddamn peace in their own lab?"

Jerry frowned at him.

"This is the garage, Rick, not your lab." He groused. "Anyway, Beth wanted me to get you for dinner."

"Yeah, yeah," Rick said and waved him away. "I'll be right there."

He looked at the remnants of his cell phone and shook his head.

In too fucking deep.