Chapter 1 is brought to you by the amazing CarribeanQueen, who waves her wand and gifts us with a magical chapter with sleight of hand tricks, disappearing acts, and an unexpected "voila" to get our hearts pumping.

Please be sure to check out her other works on her FF page.

-We're The Ones Who Write

Chapter 1: Countdown to 35

"Hey, Rick. Sorry, I've been meaning to get back to you… been quite busy on a big case."

"Nowadays, seems like I'm the only one calling. I don't like it, Michonne, you promised to stay in touch… but you're not exactly doing that these days though. Who is he?"

"Oh my God, Rick, don't go acting like some jealous boyfriend, okay? It doesn't suit you."

"Well, what am I then, if I'm not a friend, who's also a guy?"

"You know what I mean, Rick. Potato...po-tah-toe."

"You're keeping secrets, Michonne and you only do that when there's a guy you really like sniffing around you… then, I have to find shit out on Social Media about how you're in a relationship… I thought we're supposed to be friends... what gives?"

She had always suspected Rick was cyberstalking her and that comment confirmed it.

Michonne rolled her eyes, her best friend Rick could be so annoying at times. She didn't get why he felt the need to be so intrusive in her dating life. It's not like she cared about his dating life and she knew he had a pretty active one too. Being business partner and wingman to his other best friend Shane Walsh, the former stud of King's County High School, he did pretty well in that department.

Rick, however, always let on he was shy around women but her mama always told her it was the quiet ones you had to worry about. Her father even gave him the 'I have a gun and I know how to use it speech' back when they were teenagers. She was so mortified she had to avoid him for a week.

It wasn't even like that between them. Yeah, they were best friends because they lived on the same street when they were kids and they had the same friends. Being the jock that he was, Rick didn't think education was all that important but in order to stay on the team he had to maintain his grades. What better way to do that than to ask his best friend, the brainy nerd, to help him keep his grades up so he could continue with his jock lifestyle. It was a designation which was continued throughout their college years.

She wasn't blind. Yes, Richard aka Rick Grimes had sex appeal. As a teen, he hadn't quite grown into the body he presently has. He was lean, lanky and bow-legged, with a head of silky brown curls, a strong jawline, the sexiest blue eyes, a beautiful straight nose, and those damn pink lips of his. The bottom one was a little pouty… perfect for biting, sucking and god knows what else. Yeah, she may have been a nerd, but she wasn't blind to his physical attributes. All the girls in high school wanted to bed him and from the rumour mill he had been propositioned quite a bit and took advantage of said propositions too. She heard plenty about them because certain girls loved to let it be known they've had a taste of the Rick Grimes and all he had to offer… his likes and dislikes. Hell, he was a legend in his own right if the chronicles on the bathroom walls were true.

Yeah, she was familiar with his bow-legged strut, and she could always tell when he got some too because he had a tell. He could never quite look her in the eyes the day after and there was always the flush of redness creeping up just over his collar line too. It got to a point, he would cancel their study sessions if they had one scheduled, and he always had some lame-ass excuse to boot as if he thought she was clueless.

Flashing forward to the present, Michonne Beauséjour, a prominent defense attorney in Atlanta was sitting at her vanity, applying the finishing touches to her makeup as she prepared for her date with Olivier Marchand, her colleague and boyfriend of eight months. She had managed to keep their relationship on the down low because she long suspected that a certain best friend of hers always found a way to sabotage things when she liked someone.

The last time she was stood up, the last and only person she happened to be talking to that night just happened to be the same person calling her now, out of the blue. At the time, she never made the connection, never thought to question when she saw Rick, who just so happened to be at the bar as she was leaving the restaurant that night.

Over the years, however, it was uncanny how Captain Save A Bestie, always seemed to materialize whenever things fell apart in her private life.

Tonight, she wasn't about to take a chance though, she was certain Olivier was about to make his move. He had been dropping hints about Paris, his home for weeks. He knew she was in love with the City of Lights and she had a feeling he was going to ask her to move there; they had talked often enough about her father's origins and her early summers spent there with her cousins. Her thirty-fifth birthday was two months away but she knew he wouldn't wait till then, it would be too obvious.

In anticipation of their night together, she bought a lovely bold yellow bodycon dress which fell mid-thigh and hugged her curves in all the right places. It was sleeveless and décolté showcasing the "girls" boldly yet with a touch of class. They were barely held in place by a gold designer crochet, which held the two pieces of fabric together. A pair of gold strappy sandals completed her look.

Michonne knew how to bring her man to his knees. Olivier was a tits and ass man and she had plenty to spare. Her outfit would have him positively grovelling all night long, and that's if they actually made it to their reservation.

"We're friends, Rick, but I really can't talk right now. Maybe we can touch base in a few days. I have a hearing out of town…"

"Sure, we'll have dinner and catch up," he offered, sounding a bit disappointed. Something was off with his friend. He couldn't quite put his finger on it but it felt like she was trying to get rid of him.

"Phew... " That was a close call, Michonne thought as she end the call. She hated lying to Rick but she wasn't about to jinx her night with Olivier. Rick acted like a hound dog where her personal life was concerned. She hated when he got all territorial. She never imposed herself into his private life and no matter how many times she called him on it, he always claimed he was just looking out for her, but she didn't believe his intentions were as pure as he claimed. Plus, she already told him that she was never going to be a notch on his belt. The only reaction she got to that was him feigning hurt. She was so over his theatrics. He seemed to have forgotten that they were kids together and she also saw the revolving door of women going through his dorm room in college.

The doorbell rang. A few minutes later it was opened to reveal her date for the night. There stood Olivier, cutting a dashing figure with his 5'10" broad shouldered frame. He had dark brown hair with intense green eyes, a slightly crooked nose; the remnants of a fist fight, a strong jawline with beautiful strong lips. His chiselled features made him look like a model, and he wore his Armani very well. His scent practically screamed have "sex with me"!

Olivier's breath hitched as he took in her presence. His heart stopped then rebooted again at double time. Once he regained his powers of speech, he uttered, "Chérie, you look absolutely magnifique." He kissed his thumb, index and middle fingers and gestured his approval. His accent never missed making her knees weak. He then greeted her in the traditional French greeting with two kisses; then his hands made their way to her tiny waist and pulled her close. His eyes travelled the length of her body and back up only to rest on her lips. He bit his bottom lip as he moved closer to her with mischief in his eyes.

"Merci," she swallowed hard and opened the door further to grant him access. "I'll be a minute..." She said, after extricating herself from being pinned to her front door. She had to act fast or they'd never make it out the door. Her pulse was racing as she returned to her bedroom to retrieve her small clutch for the evening. She took a deep breath then quickly snapped a selfie and sent it to both Maggie and Sasha, her best friends who were dining across town.

"OMG!" The women uttered simultaneously.

"She's gonna put two men in their graves tonight," Sasha added.

"You wouldn't," Maggie said, "You know he'll lose his friggin mind."

"Wouldn't I," she asked as she pushed the post button instantly uploading the photo of their best friend captioned "tonight's the night", tagging her friend on Facebook where she knew he would see it. He hadn't migrated to Instagram as yet or this current relationship would have been toast long ago. Sure, their friend tried to keep it low key but she couldn't control what others did.

The photo, however, was followed by a misdirect, the restaurant named was Italian, whereas, the date was at the latest French restaurant in town... two streets over. Sasha was evil that way, her motto was nothing worth having should be ever too easy to get. Everyone knew their two friends belonged together, but it seemed this was a knowledge that escaped the two of them.

Meanwhile, at the restaurant, the handsome couple turned the heads of men and women alike as they were escorted to their table.

The ambience was elegant and intimate... simply perfect. Dinner was superb, the company engaging and the conversation stimulating. It was the perfect night. They were constantly touching and smiling… the picture of a couple very much in love.

After dinner, they left the restaurant to cap off the evening at their favourite jazz bar and that's where it happened. The call which changed the course of the night. He excused himself but when he returned his face was crestfallen.

"I am sorry, Chérie…," he said hurriedly as he signalled the waiter to settle their tab, "I must return to Paris tonight. My wife called… er…there was an accident. My daughter's in the hospital. I'm sorry. I'll take you home. Écoute, it's not what you think, we'll talk about it later, d'accord "

Michonne rose up from her seat on autopilot. It felt like she had been doused with a bucket of cold water. Her whole night… their plans had just crashed and burned… His daughter? His wife?! In eight fucking months, how the hell did I miss that?

They walked out of the bar together but as she reached the sidewalk, she removed his hand which was firmly around her waist. "Vas-y... Go!" He was reluctant to leave her there but he knew her well enough to know she wouldn't budge. They were done!

She walked away from Olivier and turned right two streets over. She was busy calling an Uber when she bumped into someone. She looked up only to find the one person she was trying to avoid that night.

He looked heartbroken… yet surprised to find her there on the sidewalk alone. He couldn't be sure due to the lighting, but he was almost certain she had been crying.

"Michonne?"

"Rick? Wha...what are you doing here?" She asked him, her voice catching from the emotions she was trying to conceal.

"I was having drinks with Shane," he lied. Not wanting her to know the real reason he was there, meanwhile, his hidden hand palmed the small box in his pants pocket. He thought he had lost her forever.

His broken heart fluttered at the sight of her, a Phoenix rising from the ashes of its former self immediately doing what he does best. Her protector to the rescue, he removed his jacket, draped it over her shoulders and pulled her close to him. They needed no words. They walked away with his arm draped over her shoulders.