A/N: Season's greetings, everyone! I hope you enjoy this Richonne snapshot. Since I'm posting this fic, there won't be a RGIAT update until next week. Thank you for all of the love and support you've shown that story :).
"Alright, you can come in!" Rick announced.
Michonne opened the door that connected the kids' suite to her and Rick's, her iPad in hand. What greeted her was, in one word, Christmas. Rick had banned her and the kids from entering the space after they'd finally returned from Magic Kingdom a few hours ago. She now saw what he'd been working on:
He had brought a sizeable Christmas tree into their temporary living room. He had trimmed the whole thing, and there were presents at the bottom. The run of the mill hotel couch had been upgraded with two big red pillows, a medium white one and a small grey one. On the table next to the couch, he'd lit nine candles of varying sizes and colors.
The scene took her breath away. "You brought it here," she said, her voice heavy with exhaustion.
She walked over to her beaming husband, her battered feet encased in plush slippers, and gave him a kiss.
"Hi," Rick greeted, his arms around her waist.
"Hi. It's nice to see you."
"This took some time," he explained.
"I can imagine. How'd you get them to let you bring a tree in here?"
"Lots of arguing and reminders about all the money I'm paying."
"Mmm," Michonne whined. She left his hug to shuffle over to the couch. "Don't say money. We can't go anywhere until this time next year, probably," she determined as she flopped down on the couch. She stretched her legs out in front of her and flexed her feet.
"You look beat," Rick said.
Michonne gave him a hard look, and he laughed.
"I wish I could've been there," he said as she joined her on the couch.
"No, you don't," she deadpanned.
"Uh, Disney World on Christmas day? You're right. I don't," he admitted.
"I don't know what Abraham was thinking. I don't know what I was thinking for agreeing, especially knowing you wouldn't be able to fly in until after two today."
She, Abraham, Sasha, Glenn, and Maggie had spent Christmas day wrangling four kids under the age of twelve at the happiest place on earth. Five adults should have been enough for four kids, but they were all dead on their feet by the time the park closed. Carl hadn't been any help, because she had released him to go be a teenager with Morgan's kids, who had tagged along on the trip.
"But look," she said as she straightened. She pressed her thumb down on the home button of her iPad, and it opened to reveal a picture of their three kids. Carl, Judith, and RJ were grinning widely at the camera, Mickey Mouse ears on their head and Mickey himself standing next to them.
Rick took the device, touched by the picture. He proceeded to swipe and review their adventures as Michonne laid her head on his shoulder. He saw Judith in her tiara with Princess Tiana; RJ with Buzz Lightyear; Judith and RJ riding Dumbo the Flying Elephant; RJ smiling for the camera at lunch, one tooth missing; Michonne squatting with her arms around the two, her hat on her head, looking like the quintessential mom.
Rick swiped through copious hi-res pictures of his beautiful family, feeling like the most blessed man in the world.
"I guess it was worth it," Michonne said.
Rick kissed her head. "Thank you for your sacrifice."
"I expect to be paid back with interest. They had so much energy, Rick."
Rick gave her the iPad and gingerly stood, giving her enough time to lift her head from his shoulder. "I have your gift right here," he said as he went to the tree. He produced a rectangular box with red and white wrapping, which reminded Michonne of candy cane.
She set the iPad aside and gladly took her gift. She gave Rick a side glance as he reclaimed his seat next to her. The box was light. She tore through it, not one for dainty unwrapping, and lifted the top of the box. Her shoulders slumped.
"This is a gift for you," she said, playfully hitting him in the chest with the top of the box.
Rick laughed as he took the top from her and dropped it on the floor. "It looks like it's for me, but you're gonna get a hell of a lot out of it. We both know that."
"Ugh." Michonne lifted the garment for perusal. It was a sheer red lingerie with a very small skirt that would not even reach the middle of her thighs. She turned it around and lifted her eyebrows. The underwear portion was a G-string.
She loved that Rick wanted to see her in such things, but she couldn't help wondering how long that would last.
She gave him an apologetic look. She was always giving him apologetic looks these days.
Rick deflated. He hadn't expected much, but he'd had a flicker of hope.
"I'm sorry," Michonne said.
"It's okay," he reassured her. "Call it a promise."
"Or pressure," she said without thinking.
Rick nodded curtly. "How do I let you know I'm attracted to you without pressuring you, Michonne?"
"That is not what I meant. I meant that I'm putting pressure on myself. I know you're waiting."
"I'm not marking the days off on a calendar."
"I'm not saying you are. Okay, please. Let's not escalate this. What I'm saying," she said slowly as she felt the tears coming, "Is that I know you want me. I want you, too, but I'm trapped, Rick. Do you have any idea what that's like? But I'm working on it," she said shakily.
Rick caressed her cheek, his heart aching for her. "I know you are." He sighed. "I kind of knew that giving you this was a bad idea."
"See, I don't want you to think that. Because the moment you stop trying…" she trailed off. "It's my worst nightmare."
"I'm not going anywhere," he promised.
"You're a lot of things, Rick, but you're not Superman."
Rick frowned, taking great offense. "I'm not going to cheat on you, Michonne. I love you. I know what you're going through. We lost a child. It hurts me that you're depressed, that you're completely disconnected from your body. I am all about you," he said as he leaned toward her.
Michonne smiled sadly, the words comforting her but not addressing her concerns. "My worst nightmare is you not being attracted to me anymore. I know you understand, which is why I don't feel the pressure from you. My nightmare is that you'll stop trying, that you'll accept a sexless marriage. But I can't expect you to keep trying when I'm always closing the door."
Rick swallowed past the lump in his throat so that he could speak. "I talk to you about it. We go on walks. I cook you your favorite breakfast. I wash your hair and massage your scalp. We watch your favorite movie. I make you laugh. And I buy you lingerie. All of that is me taking care of you. All of it is me trying to help. Trust me, I didn't think you'd open this and sprint to the bathroom to put it on," he said, making himself laugh.
His eyes scanned her tired face, and he said, "I see all of you, Michonne. That's why I give you these. I see the you who keeps the towel on until you're almost completely dressed now. And I believe the you who says that you do want me."
Michonne pressed his hand against her face and closed her eyes. "We have three crazy kids. I don't know why this miscarriage is hitting me so hard. Andre was stillborn, but that was a long time ago, before we even met. I don't know," she said as she opened her eyes.
"My therapist said that every child is unique. Your reaction to losing this one could strictly be about this one."
"Mine said the same thing," she shared.
They had not been trying for a fourth child. It had been a happy accident, one that they had immediately embraced. RJ had buffered the loss for Rick. He'd clung to his youngest child, seeing him in a new light, mentally cataloguing every adorable thing he did, and every word that came out of his mouth, incredibly thankful that he had survived.
Michonne had careened down a different path, tormented by what ifs and woulds. Would she and Rick be able to have another child?
She hadn't even actively wanted a fourth child. She'd been content with their three. Now her brain tortured her with images of a girl in her likeness with Rick's mannerisms.
She gazed at the man in front of her, her rock. A small smile touched her lips as she remembered the couch they were sitting on. It belonged to the hotel, but he'd dressed it just like he'd taken to dressing theirs at Christmas time. Their first kiss had been on a couch. They loved making out on their couch. They'd conceived RJ on a couch. Couches were their thing, and he'd begun calling theirs the magic couch, only to amp things up years later by decorating it for Christmas. They always placed the Christmas tree near the couch. And every Christmas night, after the kids were deep in slumber, they christened it.
This Christmas was going to be different, however, and there was nothing she could do about it.
"Thank you for bringing our couch to the happiest place on earth," she said.
Rick chuckled. "You're welcome. You ask me, our couch is the happiest place on earth."
"I hear that," she said, chuckling. Ironically, their last conception had not happened on the couch.
"Thank you for my gift," she said as she held the garment against her chest. "It's beautiful. And it's nice to know where your imagination lies," she said as she held it up and eyed the G-string again.
"You're welcome," Rick repeated. He shifted so that his back rested against the couch, and Michonne cuddled into him. He wrapped his arm around her, securing her to his side.
"I love you," she said against his chest, meaning every word.
"I love you, too. When do I get my Super Bowl tickets?"
Michonne's eyes widened, jolted out of her comfortable feeling. She sprang off him. "What the hell? How do you know?" she asked, smacking his chest with the sexy garment.
Rick chuckled. "A notification popped up when you asked me to get your phone."
Michonne squinted. She asked him to get her phone so often-
Her eyes relaxed as a distinct memory came to her. "When you brought it to me and kissed me so hard I almost fell."
Rick confirmed by thanking her. "You're the best," he added as he went in for a kiss.
"No," Michonne pouted, turning her head. She hated ruined surprises.
Rick hovered close to her face, his lips twitching.
Michonne slowly turned her head. She softened as she gazed into his loving eyes.
"I'm waiting," Rick said.
She rolled her eyes and then gave him a series of pecks that made her feel warm all over. They kept their eyes open, blinking softly and watching each other.
"Merry Christmas, baby," she said. "You smell good."
"Thank you. Merry Christmas. Wanna sleep out here with me?"
"Of course. That's why you booked one with a fold out couch," she realized.
"Yep," Rick confirmed as he stood and began removing the pillows.
Michonne placed her gift and the iPad under the tree. They transformed the couch in comfortable silence. Michonne was grateful for that comfort. She was eternally grateful for the fact that, although they weren't at the top of their game, they still shared a special intimacy. They still joked, laughed, and poked fun at each other.
Rick retrieved some of the bedding from their bed, and they snuggled on the couch bed, Michonne's iPad in her hand. She pressed it open and called up the camera. Rick shifted closer to her to get in the shot.
Rather than look at the camera, Michonne turned her head to look at him. Rick mirrored her, and she took the shot.
When Michonne saw the result, she sat up in awe. The lights from the tree threw a warm glow on them as they stared at each other. She knew what she felt when she looked at him, but she hadn't known how much it still showed. She ran her hand over the image, her eyes misting.
"What's the matter?" Rick asked, sitting up next to her.
"It's just beautiful," she said, her eyes on the image. "I didn't realize…I love the way I look at you."
"You look at me like that all of the time," Rick said softly.
"Good," she said as she turned her attention to him. "You mean the world to me."
"Stop worrying," Rick said as he cupped her cheek. "It's okay."
He went in for a kiss, and she gladly melted into him.
The End