"Where is Michonne?" Maggie asks, taking another swig of her Vodka and Cranberry.
Rosita scoffs as she twirls the candy cane around in her hot chocolate, leaning against Maggie's desk, "You already know she's outside arguing with Mike."
"Bullshit."
Rosita clicks her tongue and throws her head to the side, giving Maggie that all knowing look, "I saw her walking outside not ten minutes ago, head buried in her phone."
The annual Christmas party is in full swing at Schultz consulting firm. At five thirty on the dot, their out of office emails went out, their phones were set to unavailable, take out was ordered, and the booze was poured. Garland and colored Christmas lights are strewn about their desks, wreaths hang around every door knob, and a bundle of mistletoe is taped above the door to the breakroom. They are a festive bunch. The boys currently occupy the breakroom, playing cards and lighting up cigars as the girls mill around their desks, laughing and talking aimlessly, except for, Michonne of course. Maggie takes another swig of her drink, her blood beginning to boil from the mere mention of Mike's name. He's ruined most of Michonne's year, he ain't gonna ruin her Christmas too. She excuses herself from Rosita and stomps down the hall, hooking a sharp right and landing in the breakroom.
The boys howl from the table, half drunk as she enters the room and she promptly flips them all off, "Who's winning?" She asks, pouring some Vodka into the red plastic cup before popping open a sprite.
"Rick, of course." Glenn pipes up, tossing his cards into the middle of the table and falling back into his chair, "I fucking fold, a-fucking-gain."
Rick chuckles lightly, tossing a few more poker chips into the pile before throwing his eyes toward Maggie, "Everything okay? You look mad."
"How can you tell? Her face is always like that." Daryl smirks, glancing over his shoulder at her.
"Shouldn't you be down in the warehouse with the rest of the cretins?" She asks, folding her arms over her chest.
"Oh, so now we're not aloud to mingle with the office folk? You gonna build a wall too?" Daryl snaps back.
"Now, now, kids." Rick warns in his dad voice, "What's going on Mags?"
"I just," She takes a deep breath, turning to face them as she leans against the counter, "God, I wish Michonne would leave his triflin' ass already."
"Ah," Rick nods slowly, knowing all too well where this conversation is headed, "He's starting trouble again?"
"When is he not starting trouble with her? She's wasted too many years of her life with that shit stain and it pisses me off."
Rick drops his eyes to his cards as his index finger traces the edges. He nods again slowly in agreement, but doesn't have the right words. He of all people knows that Michonne Prescott is too smart, too incredible, and too beautiful of a woman to be wasting all of her energy on someone who doesn't deserve it. Michonne and Rick have set opposite each other for going on five years. He still remembers the day she started. Her dreads were just above her shoulders, her smile bright, and her long legs on display like a prized painting at the Louvre. They connected almost immediately, despite the picture of Mike in the corner of her desk. It was a school boy crush at first, but as time went on, and as Lori and he grew further and further apart, it got… deeper. Their conversations meant more, her smile and cheery greeting in the mornings meant more. She, meant more. Michonne was the Pam to his Jim. But, he never said a word, or let on to his secret love for her. He would just sit quietly at his desk as she had muffled arguments with Mike on the phone, or vented heavily over lunch to Maggie and Rosita. He'd hang his head as he heard her crying in the copy room. He's never said anything, he's just sat and listened as the woman of his dreams lives in a nightmare.
Maggie shrugs, letting out another deep breath, disturbing the hair that has fallen in her face, "Maybe alcohol will help cheer her up." She grabs her drinks and pushes away from the counter, "I'm off, boys."
"Totally." Daryl chimes in, extending a middle finger of his own toward her as she leaves them to their festive game.
She traipses toward the front of the building, pushing her hip against the glass door as she moves out into the chilly evening. The sky is gray, the sun muted as it begins to fall, the wind picking up as the warm temperatures become a thing of the past. She clicks around the side of the building and finds her friend, leaning over the railing, her head in the hands as the Santa hat Glenn gave her at the start of the party covers her dreads.
Maggie moves right next to her and gives her an elbow before bumping Michonne's hip with her own, "Alcohol."
"That's the last thing I need right now." Michonne mumbles, still hiding behind her hands.
"Why?"
"Because I get stupid when I'm sad and drunk."
"Well, drink it anyway. It's Christmas." Maggie holds out her hands, "Vokda and Sprite, or trash can punch?"
Michonne finally lowers her fingers from her face and throws her eyes toward her dark haired friend, "Trash can punch?"
Maggie shrugs and giggles, "Eugene made it."
"Wow," Michonne chuckles but takes the punch, "Thanks."
The two girls don't speak for a minute or two. They both lean over the metal railing and sip on their drinks as they look out into the parking lot. Maggie leans up after a while, squinting her eyes as she looks off to the side, trying to decide if she should keep her mouth shut. It is Christmas after all; a stern lecture could wait until 2019.
"Just spit it out, I know it's killing you." Michonne chuckles again.
"He is such an asshole, Michonne!" Maggie starts, stomping her foot against the concrete, "He cheated on you, again! That bitch even had the nerve to show up at your house, where your son lives, might I add, to tell you about your man. What more do you need?"
Michonne sighs loudly, closing her eyes as she tilts her face toward the sky, "I don't… it's just not that easy."
"Bullshit. That is total bullshit."
"It's not! He's my kid's father."
"And?!" Maggie groans, "That don't mean shit and it's a lame ass excuse. You and Andre would be better off if his ass fell off the side of the planet."
Michonne knows she's right. Every ounce of the sane side of her knows that Maggie is absolutely, unequivocally right. She can't even say that she stays with Mike because of Andre anymore. The sixteen year old isn't as naive as she'd likes to believe he is. Andre knows Mike ain't shit either. So why, after sixteen on and off years, does she stay? She doesn't know, but she's honestly getting tired of trying to figure it out.
"Kick his ass out, Chonne. Or better yet, pack your shit and leave his ass to pay the freakin' rent on his own. You and Andre can stay with me."
Michonne laughs a sad laugh, "I couldn't do that to you. We'd cramp your style."
"What the fuck ever." Maggie scoffs, leaning into Michonne as she throws her arm over her shoulder, "I mean it. Whenever you're ready, my door is wide open."
The two talk a while longer, finishing off their drinks before linking arms and heading back toward the front lobby to grab some food. Just as they push through the door, Rick meets them in the lobby, shrugging into his tan jacket, "And just where do you think you're going? It's early still!" Maggie questions as he moves past the two women.
"I gotta get home. Carl and Judy will be over early tomorrow morning, Lori will give me hell if I'm hungover." He chuckles, "You guys okay?" He asks, picking his eyes up from the floor to meet Michonne's gaze.
She nods and smiles, "Yeah, we're good. Thanks."
"Alrighty," He starts, taking a breath as he reaches for the door, "Have a good weekend, Merry Christmas, Happy New Year and all that. I'll see y'all next year."
"Right back atcha, Grimes. Have a nice vacation." Michonne offers another smile before winking.
He smiles warmly back, pressing his hand against the door, "You too, Prescott."
"You know," Maggie starts as they move back down the hallway as the door to the lobby shuts behind Rick, "You and Rick would-"
"Stop. Just stop." Michonne laughs.
"What? He's cute! Daryl told me he hasn't been on a date since Lori left."
Michonne scrunches up her face a little as they continue to move down the hall, "Really?" She asks genuinely.
Maggie nods, 'Mmmhmm. Three years, girl."
The conversation steers into a different direction as they bump into the extremely nervous, extremely intoxicated Eugene as Abraham tries to carry him to his car. Michonne continues on her way as her mind starts to wander about the quiet, brooding Rick Grimes. He's an absolute catch. He's a great, attentive dad, he's funny, and is very easy on the eye if she says so herself. He's a good listener, actually pays attention to other people's needs, a protector and provider for his family… how could he still be single? It just doesn't make any sense to Michonne. He's perfect.
Ok, ok, Maggie might have been on to something about her and Rick and Michonne can't lie, she has thought about it a time or two… or every single day for a few months now. She thought it was just a stupid work crush at first, it happens all the time. He'd hold the door for her in the morning before they'd make their way to their desks. He'd save her a seat at lunch, he'd leave packs of M&Ms or a Dr. Pepper, her favorites, on her desk. He paid attention to her, what girl wouldn't like that? But then, the butterflies started fluttering in her stomach when he'd laugh. She couldn't wait to get to work in the mornings just so they could talk about any and everything. She looked forward to seeing him everyday and was quiet and almost withdrawn on days he was off. It wasn't just a work crush anymore. She couldn't tell anyone of course, especially not Maggie's big mouth, so she kept it all in and just admired the beautiful Rick Grimes from afar.
After another hour or two of cutting up in the breakroom, Michonne wanders back to her desk, her face in her phone as she texts back and forth with Andre. She grabs her purse from her drawer and throws it over her shoulder before reaching out to shut down her computer. That's when she sees it. A small, felt jewelry box sitting right next to her desk phone, along with a folded piece of paper. She squints her eyes as she stares at it before looking to her left and her right but finding no one as her fellow coworkers voices float toward her from the breakroom. She reaches out toward the box and picks it up, feeling the weight in her hands as she opens the typed note.
"There you are, come on, lets go." Rosita chirps as she moves up behind her, Maggie right in tow.
"Did we do secret santa this year?" Michonne asks, turning her head to look at the two women behind her quizzically.
"No. We haven't done secret santa since Eugene brought that freakin' dead deer up here for Daryl." Maggie answers, "What is it?" She grabs the note from Michonne's hand and reads it outloud, "Michonne. I hope this isn't weird. I value our friendship and I don't want things to change, that's why I haven't said anything. I just want you to know you're the first thing I think about when I wake up, and you're the last thing I think about before I shut my eyes. You're beautiful and you deserve the world. Merry Christmas. From, Your Secret Santa / Admirer. " She coos before inhaling deeply as a smile creeps on her face, "Oh. My. God."
"I wanna see, give it here!" Rosita exclaims, snatching the note from Maggie before reading it again, "Holy shit, Michonne! This shit only happens in the movies! Open it, open it, open it!"
Michonne pops open the box and all three of them gasp in unison. Michonne places her hand to her chest as she exhales, a slightly bewildered and shocked smile on her face, "It's the charm bracelet I was telling you guys about a few weeks ago. Remember? The one I saw at Zales?"
"I remember." Maggie smiles, "You said you couldn't work it into your budget with Christmas coming up."
"Who heard us talking about that though? We were outside on the steps at break. It was just us, wasn't it?" Rosita asks.
Maggie rests her chin on Michonne's shoulder, smiling wildly at the romantic gesture, "Apparently not."
"I can't accept this." Michonne starts, "My God, it's three hundred dollars!"
"Are you dumb?! Someone obviously wants you to have it!" Rosita asks giddily, smiling just as hard as Maggie, "Who do you think it is?"
"Maggie, you didn't." Michonne asks.
Maggie throws up her hands and shakes her head, "I swear on baby Jesus and the holy spirit I did not. I'm not spending three hundo unless I'm getting some ass in return."
Michonne laughs, her eyes twinkling as she slides the silver piece of jewelry onto her wrist, "Oh my god. This is just," She laughs again, "This is crazy! I cannot believe this."
"I bet it was Eugene. He looks at you kinda weird."
Maggie and Michonne turn sharply to face Rosita, their faces screwed up, "Now why on earth would you say that?" Maggie says, gaping at her, "Don't put that juju on her, not before Christmas."
"You right," Rosita nods, throwing up a hand, "Daryl, maybe?"
"Girl, please be serious!" Maggie says, "I bet it's Siddiq in accounting. He is always flirting with you. Just last week, he was all over you!"
Michonne rolls her eyes and scoffs, "He was not. He asked if I had another quarter so he could get a soda. That doesn't lead to buying me a three hundred dollar bracelet."
"Jesus?" Rosita asks, throwing her hands on her hips.
"Is gay. Try again." Michonne laughs.
"Oooh, I got it." Maggie starts, "Gabriel."
Daryl peers around the corner as the three girls giggle and gush about Michonne's new admirer. He pulls out his phone and taps his fingers across the glass screen before hitting send and moving back into the breakroom. Across town, Rick grabs his vibrating phone from his nightstand and smiles to himself as he reads over the simple text.
She loves it, Casanova.
He sends a quick reply before taking a swig of his beer and returns to folding his laundry as reruns of The Office plays in the background.