A/N: Here to kick off the first chapter of this collaboration, is one of the best new writers to grace the fandom with her work! Though Nwfanmega is probably a familiar name to most of us from her magnificent reviews, she just published her first Richonne fic not long ago. You won't be surprised to find that her writing is beautiful, insightful and full of humor, just like her reviews.
Be sure to check out her story on her fanfic page
-We're The Ones Who Write
Chapter 1
"I swear to God Rick," Michonne warned, sprawled across their bed, desperately trying to shimmy into her dark-washed extra skinnies. "I hear even a hint of laughter from you, and you're in big trouble mister!"
Rick stood in the threshold of their ensuite bathroom, gaping at the vision of his wife flat on her back, grunting loudly as she attempted to pull up her favorite – his too – pair of jeans. He leaned an arm against the doorway, spellbound by the arousing gyrations taking place just a few feet away. His other hand gripped a towel, slung low and loose around his waist, as he bit his bottom lip to keep from displaying any obvious signs of merriment in her present predicament.
Michonne lifted her head from the mattress to peer over at him, taking in his labor-sculpted torso, scarred and battered, yet amazingly strong, resilient, and so very sexy. The amusement in Rick's eyes was evident as he absentmindedly leaned slightly backwards to stretch out the remaining stiffness that had left pinpricks of discomfort across his lower back. She could see how his propensity for near-scalding showers had turned the skin of his upper body a pronounced pinkish hue. But it had also relaxed his aching muscles and soothed the soreness that still plagued his right knee, not yet fully healed after the end of their war with the Saviors.
The consequences of their hard-fought victory never completely left Rick's mind, nor Michonne's for that matter. As his ears tuned into the faint chatter of voices coming from downstairs, Rick took a moment to savor his surroundings. He marveled at how their home now buzzed with activity, everyone scrambling to ready themselves for the drive to the Kingdom and the long-awaited celebration of their triumph over Negan.
Rick looked down, shaking his head and quietly chuckling to himself as he pictured what was sure to be a grand pageant put on by Ezekiel and his crew. He was sure the theatrical man wouldn't be able to help himself. But this would likely be the rare case where Rick wasn't bothered by what he assumed would be an eye-rolling spectacle. They all relished the opportunity to catch their collective breaths and simply enjoy the quiet comforts so infrequently afforded them in this new world.
After finally putting the prospects of a life of subjugation to Negan to rest, they'd spent the majority of the time since building partnerships with other communities and securing Alexandria against unforeseen threats. Rick and Michonne's household was eager to join friends and family at the Kingdom to not only revel in all they had achieved, but honor those who had sacrificed to get them here.
As Michonne continued to hold Rick in place with her piercing gaze, she noted how the sun streamed through the sheer curtains of the bedroom windows, highlighting small droplets of water as they slowly trickled down his body. She watched his hand run through still-damp hair, pushing his beloved curls off his forehead. Ordinarily, Michonne would have smiled at the sight of her husband in such a state of undress, but she wasn't yet willing to concede to him after his indelicate laughter at her difficulties. Feeling defeated, she laid her head back onto the mattress.
Rick stood in place, contemplating how best to approach his aggravated wife, currently mired in a fruitless struggle to pull up her jeans. A particularly loud groan from Michonne, elicited a loud, inopportune guffaw from Rick. The sound caused Michonne's head to jerk back up off the bed, her eyes cutting to him like a blade through a fetid corpse.
Damn. She doesn't look pleased. Gotta be somethin' I can do to help.
He released his hold on the towel, letting it fall onto the carpeted bedroom floor as he stepped over it on his quest to help his love.
"Not one more step Rick," she cautioned, finding nothing amusing about her current situation. "You know better than to laugh. You oughta be on your knees thanking the heavens my katana is downstairs."
They had just crossed the fourth month of her pregnancy and she had spent much of the past week lamenting how nothing seemed to fit any longer. She hated it. Rick, on the other hand, was not-so-secretly thrilled. He was elated to finally see the physical manifestation of their love bring visible changes to her body. The recognition of having reached the point where they could start thinking about building something that would last beyond themselves had brought him unimaginable joy.
He tried not to smile, but Mad Michonne was a favorite of his. She always looked so adorable when frustrated over things she usually wouldn't have given a second thought. Threats of bodily harm aside, she looked particularly delectable at the moment. Her tiny bump, now furiously pushing against the confines of her jeans, was just one of the riveting transformations he'd noted as of late. He was awed by the way her already unbelievably soft skin had become even silkier. She seemed to glow from the inside out, leaving him to wonder how this was even possible in a still rough and dangerous world.
The morning sickness had subsided and she was feeling more like herself again. For that, he was grateful. Grateful for the now nearly nightly reaches towards him. Grateful for her new predilection for early morning escapades. Grateful for the sheer voracity of her passion for him.
"Awwww, sweetheart," he began, biting his lip a bit too harshly in an attempt to dampen his mirth. "Why don't you put on somethin' easier to wear? I got you all those pants during the last run, an–"
"I'm not wearing elastic waistband pants Rick!" she groused, the emotional response from his usually even-tempered wife startling him just a bit. "I don't know why you got them for me in the first place. They aren't even my style."
"I got them because I want you to be comfortable Michonne," he claimed, giving up on the impossible task of preventing his smile from emerging. He couldn't help himself. She was just too damn gorgeous when upset over something so petty.
"Riiiick," she drawled. "No one should ever be that comfortable. It's a slippery slope and it always starts with elastic waistbands. Before you know it, it's sweats at all hours of the day, and wearing a hair wrap outside. Nope. I am not the one."
He furrowed his brow and cocked his head to the side, baffled by her logic. How could comfort be a slippery slope? She read the confusion on his face. Sighing deeply, she began,
"My entire pregnancy with Andre, I dressed like me. I vowed pregnancy wouldn't ruin my fashion sense. If anything, I was even more stylish, if I do say so myself. I'm not going to be wearing sweatpants and caftans with this one. I refuse!"
"First off, I don't even know what a caf– cat– Wait, what was it again?" he queried.
"It's caftan Rick," she grumbled, giving him a protracted eye roll. "You just proved my point. You have no idea what's fashionable."
He chuckled again, looking down at her from the side of the bed. She had managed to get the jeans past the smooth, buttery sleekness of her thighs, but was fighting to pull them beyond her widened hips and the additional… cushion that had added glorious padding to her backside.
His eyes tracked her movements as she writhed on their bed, clad in only a lavender lace bra and matching panties. Gazing down at her, he felt that familiar stirring. That well-known pull towards her that he could never bring himself to resist.
Her eyes quickly widened as she took in his stiffening member.
"Are you serious Rick?" she implored, looking up to find his eyes trained on hers. "We don't have time. We need to be out of here in 30 minutes. That'll be a miracle in itself."
Swooping onto the bed to straddle her, he tilted his head to the side and asserted, "don't need much time. This'll be quick… I promise."
"Yeah, right," she said, allowing him the honor of a genuine smile. "Do I look like a fool to you? I'm not falling for that again."
"Aw, c'mon sweetheart," he whispered, playing dirty as he leaned down to run his tongue across the outer edge of her ear lobe. "Just a little sugar for daddy. Please?"
She giggled. He looked so sexy with his curls falling back onto his face as his deep blue eyes lustfully connected with her dark brown orbs. But Michonne was a woman of immense fortitude. She wasn't going to be swayed by the walking, talking distraction that was Rick Grimes.
"If you don't get off of me, we're never gonna to leave the house Rick."
"Hmmmm. Don't see the problem. Do you?"
"I'm serious. Just help me zip these and I'll be ready to go. Maybe I can use a cloth belt or something to hold them closed…"
"Not gonna let you do that," he replied, scooting backwards off the bed, while taking hold of her jeans and pulling them down her legs.
"Rick," she sputtered, gripping the jeans by a belt loop as she tried to keep them on her thighs. "What are you doing? It took me 10 minutes to get them this far!"
"Gotta better idea," he said, standing back onto the carpet, while turning her jeans inside out as he pulled the offending garment completely off her body and tossed them onto the floor.
He looked down at her, taking in the sublime expanse of dark, unbelievably glossy skin that covered her body. He could sup from her all day and never be full.
"Well?" she asked, annoyed that he was just standing there, though she didn't mind staring at his wondrously nude form for a moment… or two. "Are you going to actually help your poor suffering wife out?"
Smirking, he turned and strutted towards their closet, allowing her the distinct pleasure of viewing his cute little butt and bowed-legs from the back. As he disappeared into the closet, her lips curved upwards into a lascivious grin. Maybe they did have a little time for some fun.
After rummaging in their closet for what seemed like forever, Rick walked out holding a red sundress covered in tiny, intricately placed white daisies. She gave him a curious look; he smiled broadly at her surprise.
"Where'd you get that?" she questioned, pointing at the beautiful vintage-style dress in his hands.
"Found it sittin' in the window of some shop a few runs ago," he stated, pleased that he seemed to have picked right. "Been hidin' it on my side of the closet and waitin' for the perfect chance to give it to you. Knew you'd look beautiful in it."
Her smile brightened as she got up from the bed and walk over to take a closer look. She took it from his hands, running her fingers over the exquisitely soft material, admiring the rich color, as well as the stylishly open back and halter-top neckline. The loose bodice would be perfect for skimming over her growing bump and concealing their little surprise.
"It's perfect Rick," she whispered, her chin beginning to tremble. "Why am I crying over this? Jeez. These hormones will be the death of me!"
Pulling her into an embrace, he said, "I love you sweetheart. Wanted you to have somethin' nice."
He bent down to capture her lips, crushing the dress between them as his tongue explored her mouth. Soft moans rose from both of them as her body, flush against his, felt the inescapable indication of his awakening.
What's a few more minutes?
A loud bang from downstairs interrupted their revelry. The subsequent shout from Carl of "everything's fine!" brought laughter and recognition to both that there'd be no 'late-morning delight'. Not today at least.
"Saved by the bell," she sighed, looking up to catch the mild annoyance in his eyes.
He nodded. Plenty of time for that tonight.
"You need to get ready anyway," Michonne stated, taking the lovely dress from him and shaking out wrinkles their brief dalliance had caused. "I need to go down there and make sure those kids haven't destroyed all my hard work."
Under Rick's unrelenting gaze, Michonne reached back and unclasped her bra, watching as it dropped to the floor. Untying the halter neck closure of her new dress, she stepped into it, drawing it up her body while watching Rick's eyes follow its path. She pulled the top of the dress around her neck and turned her back towards him.
"Tie me up?" she purred, feeling the heat emanating from his body as reached out for the strings to tie a bow at the back of her neck.
Completing his task, he took a moment to trail his calloused hands over the warm, smooth expanse of her back, his tender caresses causing tingles across her skin. He leaned in, placing wet kisses onto her back, while gripping her hip to hold her in place as he brought her back flush with his front. She chuckled, knowing what game he was trying to play, yet again.
"Woah, cowboy," she teased, turning to face him.
The pout on his lips only added to her glee. She rose onto her toes and pulled him towards her as he leaned down to share a long, leisurely kiss. She released his lips, exhaling slowly as she planted her feet back onto the ground and smiled up at him.
"Don't be too long," she said, turning her back to him as she made her way downstairs.
"Judith, what did I just say?" Carl asked, irritated by his baby sister's inability to follow his simple instructions. "You can't sit on the counter playing around or you'll fall and hurt yourself. You already dropped your toys."
Judith looked over at her brother, slumped against the stove, ladling the deer stew that Michonne had lovingly prepared into the large serving containers Enid had brought from the pantry. It smelled delicious. So delicious that Carl had snuck a few mouthfuls as he emptied the pot. Enid, from her perch on a barstool in front of the island, covered her mouth to keep from laughing aloud. The banter between Carl and Judith always tickled her. Feisty Judith was something to behold.
"Na-ah," she declared. "Mommy lets me sit on the counter and help. She always needs help and says I'm the best because you do things the wrong way and she has to fix it. Annnnd, you always eat stuff when it's s'posed to be for everyone! Right Enid?"
"Sorry Carl," Enid said, laughing as she took in the comical look of annoyance her boyfriend was throwing her way. "She does make a good point."
"Whatever Judas," Carl retorted, rolling his eyes as Enid tipped her head towards the ceiling and snorted with laughter.
Judith leaned back onto the countertop, her self-satisfied smile raising a short cackle from Carl. Judith narrowed her eyes, her little brows furrowing in tandem. If there was one thing his sweet-faced baby sister didn't like, it was not being in on the joke. Busted taking a few bites from the dish, he knew Judith would tattle the minute Michonne and his dad came downstairs.
"How about I give you a bite Judith?" he asked. "C'mon now. It's your favorite."
Judith looked over at him. She really did want a bite, but… Mommy said it was for the party. So, with the patience of Job, the little girl reluctantly shook her head.
"Unbelievable," Carl muttered, once again taken aback by the willpower of the three-year-old.
"Judy," he called out, hoping to distract her with a different topic. "Do you remember what we talked about yesterday? About the baby?"
Judy looked at him, not quite understanding the question. "Yeah…I 'member."
"We said we weren't going to talk about the baby, even though it's really, really exciting," he continued.
"'Course!" Judith huffed, crossing her little arms over her chest. "Ev'body knows that."
She cast Carl a withering stare. Mommy had already told her it was a secret. Mommy said it was family business. Judith knew this meant it was only for Mommy, Daddy, Carl, and herself. And sometimes Enid, but no one else. She was really good at keeping secrets. After all, she hadn't told anyone about the chocolates her Mommy kept in a box on the floor of her closet. Mostly because Mommy would sneak her a piece when she was being good. And Judith always tried very hard to be good and make Mommy proud.
"Ok then," he replied, unable to prevent his lips from curling upwards as he took in Judith's perturbed countenance. "Just make sure you don't or I might have to tell Mommy…"
"Make sure she doesn't what?" Michonne asked, looking towards Carl as she crossed the doorway and stepped into the kitchen. "You better not be teasing my sweet girl."
Michonne look on as Carl first shook his head, then tipped it towards the ceiling, silently lamenting the clear bias towards all things Judith. Usually, he was onboard. But he didn't trust his nosy, talkative little sister to hold water, let alone a secret she'd been so excited about. He brought his eyes back to the task at hand and finished scooping the stew into the containers and covered them with matching lids.
"Mommy!" Judith exclaimed, reaching her arms out towards Michonne. "You look sooooo pretty!"
"Thank you, baby," Michonne replied, walking towards Judith's spot on the countertop. "Carl, I could hear you from upstairs. What exactly did you do to get my Judy-bug all riled up?"
Carl turned from the stove and cast a glance towards Michonne, now leaning across the center island and pulling the now compliant Judith into her arms. As she was swept into her mother's arms, Judith casually threw a smirk her big brother's way, then discreetly stuck her tongue out at him while snuggling deeper into Michonne's arms.
"Why do you think I did something?" Carl asked, willing to relinquish for a moment his role as protective big brother in an effort to teach Judith a lesson. "You know, she's not a baby any more. She knows exactly how to play you."
Michonne pivoted to take a look at Enid, smiling broadly as she quietly took in the usual morning shenanigans in the Grimes household. Having gotten to know this spirited young woman who loved and challenged her son, Michonne exchanged a complicit grin with her.
"Hmmmm. Maybe because you always do something," Enid began, looking directly at the scowl now framing Carl's face. "I think the point of being a big brother is to, oh, I dunno, be the mature one. How's Judith gonna learn?"
"Yeah Carl," Michonne piled on, watching as Carl's head swiveled between Enid's not-so-shocking betrayal and Michonne's, before landing on the true culprit: Judith, who's sunny smile was in direct conflict with the trouble she had knowingly just dropped into her brother's lap.
"You're her role model Carl," Michonne continued, glee sparkling in her eyes. "How will she learn if you don't lead by example?"
"Ok, ok, I got it," Carl surrendered, raising his hands in the air. "If you don't want my help preventing Judith from spilling the beans, then don't say I didn't warn you. Judy-bug is a leaky boat."
Eyebrows raised, Carl dramatically shrugged his shoulders, before tilting his head towards Enid, gesturing for her to get up.
"C'mon, let's get this and the rest of the supplies for the Kingdom in the car. We needa see if Rosita wants to drive over with us."
"Didn't she leave with Eugene and Tara?" Michonne asked, holding Judith on one hip, while gripping a bowl of the remaining sliced apples from the huge batch of applesauce she'd made for the Kingdom in the other hand and gesturing for Judith to take a piece. "Didn't they leave last night? Eugene needed to set up the lighting for the dance floor and Tara wanted to learn how he does it."
"Yeah, well, you know how Rosita is," Carl began, gripping either side of the large container as Enid stacked smaller ones on top. "She's not exactly… the party type. You know how much she complains when we have these things. She hates happy people, always griping and looking miserable."
"Carl," Michonne chastised, freezing him in place with a stern look. "You know that's not true. She's been struggling… it's been awhile, but some wounds take longer to heal than others. She still feels guilty. We just need to give her more time. Trust me. She'll come around."
Carl nodded, chiding himself for not being more understanding. Balancing the containers in his hands, he turned towards the front door with Enid following closely behind.
"I'll load this into the car and meet you guys out there in 20 minutes," Carl stated. "Let's see if we actually leave on time."
"Bye-bye!" Judith cheerfully called out as she wrapped her little arms around Michonne's neck.
"See you in a few," Michonne added. "Come on Judy-bug, let's go find your shoes."
"So, my lovely," Michonne said, rubbing noses with a giggling Judith as she walked over to the couch to help Judith put on her shoes. "What exactly did you do to your brother?"
Judith leaned away from her mother, scrunching her little face as if she had just taken a hard suck from a particularly sour lemon.
"Nothing Mommy!" she exclaimed, her hands playing with the crimped edges of Michonne's locs, festively adorned with the gold clips Judith so adored.
"Nothing huh?" Michonne replied, reaching under the coffee table for the white sandals with flowers on the buckles Judith insisted on wearing whenever anyone mentioned a party. "If I ask Carl, what is going to tell me?"
"Ahhhh," Judith pondered, debating whether or not to give up the goods. "Weeelll… Carl keeps saying I'm going to tell 'bout the baby, but I already know I'm not supposed to tell. You said it's family business and I know what that means. I'm a big girl."
"Oh baby," Michonne cooed, looking on as Judith tried to puzzle through the logic of Carl's proclamations. "We know you're a big girl. You know Carl's just playing with you."
"Well, I don't like it," she announced, once again crossing her arms over her chest and letting out a exaggerated huff. "I know lots of stuff and I don't tell. Daddy walks in your room with boots on when you're not home, even though he's s'pposed to keep them by the door so we don't track dirt into the house. And Carl cleans his gun on the dinner table and he's s'pposed to do it outside! I n'ver told!"
Michonne couldn't hide the look of bemusement on her face as Judith, indignant as ever, unknowingly proceeded to spill tea on both Rick and Carl. When she had satisfactorily completed her rant, she leaned back against the couch cushions and crossed her legs.
"See Mommy?" Judith asked, fully expecting her mother to take her side. "I keep secrets!"
"I know you do baby," she said, leaning over to give her a soothing rub on the back as Judith nodded her head in agreement.
"Mommy?" Judith began, already forgetting all about her previous rage. "Can I change? I don't like this dress anymore."
"Judith, we don't have time," she began, ignoring the look of vexation taking over Judith's cute features.
"Pleeeaassse Mommy?" Judith implored, those big sorrowful eyes looking up at Michonne through long, nearly blonde eyelashes. "I want to match your dress. Please?"
Michonne didn't stand a chance. Not with that face peering up at her.
"Alright Judith," Michonne acquiesced, buckling Judith's sandals.
A smile rocketed across Judith's face as she quickly jumped down from the couch.
"Just make sure you let Daddy help you because we only have 15 more minutes."
"Ok Mommy!" she called out, running through the living room and up the stairs.
"Daddy!" Judith cried out, short of breath as she rounded the corner towards her parent's bedroom and ran right into Rick's shins.
"Slow down Judith!" Rick exclaimed, grabbing her by the shoulders before they both landed on the ground. "Where's the fire?"
"Nowhere!" Judith exclaimed, looking up at him with a confused grin. "Mommy said I have to hurry and change my dress. You have to help me put on my red dress so we match!"
Rick laughed as Judith raced around him towards her bedroom, lifting her yellow sundress over her head as she ran. He followed her into the room, looking on as she frantically opened up her closet door.
"There it is!" she excitedly shouted, jumping up and down and pointing to the dress sitting prettily on the hanger.
Rick leaned over and plucked it from the rod, bring it down for Judith's perusal.
"It's perfect," she quietly stated, clutching the dress to her chest while gently rubbing the fabric.
Like mother, like daughter.
Rick pulled the red dress with white polka dots over Judith's head, careful to not mess up the two pigtails Michonne had artful created, even though Judith herself had set them slightly askew by haphazardly pulling off her previous dress. As Rick knelt to smoothed down the dress, Judith excitedly spun around for him, the movement causing the dress to whirl around her.
"You look beautiful sweetheart," Rick said, bending down to her height to lean in and give her a hug.
"Thank you, Daddy!" Judith replied proudly.
Pulling her into his arms, he lifted her up as he rose to his feet.
"Remember what we talked about?" Rick began, as he walked out of her room and into the hallway. "We can't tell anyone about the baby, right?"
"I know Daddy!" Judith sighed, rolling her eyes theatrically.
Gonna have to talk to Carl about all his eye rollin'. No need for his bad habits to rub off on his baby sister.
"I'm good at keeping secrets. I never told you about Mommy's chocolate!"
"Oh Judy, everybody knows about Mommy's chocolate," Rick chuckled, giving her a kiss on the cheek.
"But I didn't tell you!" Judith insisted, her wide eyes capturing her father's as he held onto the railing and carefully walked them down the stairs.
"I know darlin', I know," he soothed, giving her a kiss on the cheek as they cleared the bottom step and walked into the kitchen. He smiled at her obliviousness to having just done exactly what she said she hadn't.
He spied Michonne across the room, picking up their overnight bag from its spot next to the front door. He stared as she quickly slipped on her white strappy wedges. She was breathtaking. She looked up at him, taking him in as he carried a smiling Judith towards her.
"You ready?" she asked, reaching for the door knob.
"Yeah," he replied, leaning in to place a soft, lingering kiss on her lips. "Let's head on out."
As she finally released him, they took a moment to look into each other's eyes, smiling at the joy each found in the other's. In a world still fraught with unforeseeable danger, these moments of quiet bliss invigorated their souls. Michonne turned and opened the front door, slinging the bag over her shoulder as she reached behind her for Rick's hand. Rick slid Judith to the ground and closed the door, freeing his hand to grasp Michonne's as they headed out for what was sure to be an epic celebration.