A/N Hi everyone! This is my third contribution to the Richonne Just Desserts- 25 Days of Richonne event. Please check out the picture prompt on Tumblr and make sure to check out all of the other days and writers that have been and will be posted right up until Christmas!

XXXXXXXXXXXX

"This is ridiculous," Michonne huffed, as Rick pulled their SUV over to the side of the road. If you could even call it that, she thought. It was more like a trail that was really testing the limits of the vehicle purchased for weekend trips to the hardware store, now that they had bought a house in the more suburban part of town. She ran a hand over her rounded belly, praying that they didn't get stranded on this middle of nowhere county road, and end up delivering their baby in a barn somewhere like some modern version of the Nativity. There was a reason why pregnant women didn't go on long journeys into the wilderness, she stewed inwardly.

"Why can't we just go to one of the hundred tree stands on every corner downtown?" she whined. "There's nothing more Christmassy than the city all lit up. You know, 'city sidewalks, busy sidewalks...dressed in holiday style'…"

Her lyrical plea did nothing to deter him, as he shifted the car into park, and hopped out. She watched from her heated, leather seat as he walked around to the back and opened the tailgate, pulling out a hatchet and a scary looking, red machete he had wrapped in a blanket.

"Nope," he said, inspecting the rather large looking tools, and causing her to wonder if they might be overkill. Though, she'd never cut a tree down before, so she supposed she wouldn't know. He shut the back of the car and walked around to her door, pulling it open with a rush of frigid air. "We're going to get a real tree, from nature. It's gonna be a tradition."

She groaned as he helped her lower herself out of the car and into the snow, before taking a quick moment to appreciate the fact that her new boots now looked exactly like they had in the catalogue, all covered in white fluff. "It's freezing," she grumbled, scowling at his grin. He reached out to grab her mittened hand, pulling her toward an incline that led straight into a thicket of trees. "Are you even supposed to cut a tree down in the woods?" she asked, struggling to keep up as the snow got deeper.

"Where do you think they get the ones on the corner stands, Michonne?" he asked, with a smirk.

"I'm sure there's a permit process involved, Officer."

"Sorry Counselor," he said, his tone starting to reflect a weariness. "City Hall isn't open on Sundays. Guess we'll have to take our chances."

She realized her crabbiness was starting to dull the excitement he had been harboring, and she decided to just accept her fate and focus on getting this task done and getting back on the real road, with pavement and a centerline. "Fine," she relented. "What do you want me to do?"

"Pick one out," he answered. He gestured to the thick forest that they now found themselves in, and took a Navy blue, knit cap out of his coat pocket, pulling it over his ears as he waited.

Michonne spun around in a slow circle, taking in her choices while Rick blew hot air onto his gloved hands and bounced a little to keep warm. "Any of them?"

"Any that will fit in the living room," he said, his grin returning.

She held a hand up in the air and rose to her toes, attempting to gauge the ceiling height from her memory and she heard him snicker behind her.

"Alright, look," he drawled, stepping closer and putting an arm around her shoulders as he pointed to a few options. "That one would fit...that taller one right there would make it, if I take a little off the bottom...those two, probably."

He pulled her into his side, his warm breath on her ear as he leaned in to help her decide, and it suddenly didn't feel like such a chore to be out there breathing in the fresh air together. A smile began to spread across her face at the thought of making traditions with him in their new house, and she couldn't help but start to catch some of his seasonal cheer.

She scanned the contenders he had pointed out and began to put some serious thought into the exact tree that she wanted to wake up to on Christmas morning. "I like the fat one," she finally said, pointing to a robust looking fir tree, taller than him, but seemingly an appropriate size to bring indoors.

"That's the one then," he said, opening the blanket he had placed on the ground and choosing the hatchet. "Stand over there." He pointed behind him, to a clearing a couple yards away from her selection and she quickly scurried to safety.

It took more time than she anticipated to fell the little tree, and she watched as he removed his hat and used it to wipe a few beads of sweat from his brow. The cap left his brown curls a mess on the top of his head, and she smiled widely at the sight. "That's it?" she asked. "Now we just take it home?"

"That's it." He wrapped the tools back up, hoisting them under his arm, then turned to her with his hands on his hips. "I think you picked the right one," he said with a smile.

"Oh yeah?" she said, waddling back to where he stood.

"Yeah."

She took another look as he hoisted the tree back up, holding it upright and grinning beside it. She squinted at the emerald green fir, picturing it decked out with the ornament collection they had merged their first Christmas together. Rick was the sentimental type, she found, as he had proudly presented a myriad of clay handprints and glittered pinecones; handmade decorations from his childhood that he had kept well into adulthood. They'd compared their own 'Baby's first Christmas' keepsakes and hung them side by side on the scraggly Charlie Brown tree that they'd moved all of the furniture around in their tiny apartment to showcase. Now they were living in a house in the nice part of town, spending weekends traipsing through nature for tradition, instead of working twelve hour shifts. Soon they'd have a new commemorative ornament to add to the collection. She could already see their future children looking forward to this event every year, with their sweet yet rugged, tough yet romantic father who was just as excited as them. She nodded in agreement, feeling her heart begin to swell. She had absolutely picked the right one.

He set the tree back down, crouching to inspect the cut he had made, and any alterations it might need.

"Rick?" she said, her cheeks starting to burn from the frigid temperature and the stretch of her grin.

"Yeah?" he called over his shoulder.

"Merry Christmas."

Rick turned toward her on his knee, caught off guard by her new cheery disposition. "Merry Christmas, Michonne," he said, the dreamy look he'd begun the trip with returning to his face. "It's gonna be a good one."