Violette House Party

In the 70's, Frederick Grimes and Desmond Jesekai invested in a ghost town Willbury, now officially known as Vanity Front. Well, that was when the Grimes' and Jesekai's were the best of friends, now…that relationship's gone to complete shit. Anyway, the town was named after Desmond's daughter Vanity, who was killed around that time.

After her murder, the two families grew apart, yet neither would leave Vanity Front. They both felt as though they owned the place, and, well, they did. Desmond's son Malcolm became the mayor of Vanity Front, and Frederick's son Richard became the town manager.

Michonne Jesekai, daughter to Malcolm Jesekai, the mayor of Vanity Front, was perched in the corner of Violette House with a glass of red wine. Stirring into it with her olive stick, staring around. This was one of her least favorite places to be. She hated the clinks of the silverware, the sounds of indistinct chatter, the music.

Her father stood across the room in deep conversation with people she knew had to be important and Richard Grimes II was seated in a table beside his wife Delila, they were drinking. The seat where their son, Rick, was supposed to be seated in was empty.

Michonne set her drink down, and exited the ballroom, feeling relief as she stepped into the dark halls of the Violette House. All she wanted to do was go upstairs to her room and wait for the townspeople to finally leave, almost at the long staircase, she heard a sound.

It was the faint sound of a woman screaming.

She turned to her side where she knew the unnecessarily wide coat closet was and pushed it open, the sight ahead of her made her stiffen.

It was Rick Grimes, he was pressed against Jessie Anderson, his ex, whose back was curving over a desk as he kissed on her neck with her chin in both his hands, his pants had fallen to his knees, but he still wore black boxers. She was moaning loudly through his strokes.

"Sweet mother of Jesus." Michonne turned to go, and shut the door behind her, clicking down the hall hurriedly, disgust written on her face. But as she neared the staircase, she felt a tugging grip on her arm.

"Will you slow down?"

It spun her around, causing her to knock into the chest of said person. She blinked up through the turbulent haze at Rick Grimes.

Moonlight spilled through, illuminating his pretty blue eyes. One of his curls was curving over the angular contours of his nose, tumbling back and forth over his face.

"Is there a reason you grabbed me?" She asked, blinking down at her balled fist that was clutched in his hand.

Rick opened his grip and her hand fell away, despite that disconnection they were still at a close proximity that didn't make her comfortable.

"If you weren't such a fast walker, I wouldn't have had to." He muttered irritably.

She didn't answer, just stared at him in all his breathlessness. Somehow, within the passionate thralls of his lovemaking with Jessie Anderson, and her quick observation of his actions, he'd managed to pull his pants up and throw on his suit jacket, it was rumpled and wrinkled over his arms.

"You didn't see that." He shook his head down at her.

"Sadly, I did." Michonne took a step back. "You abandoned your parents with the one people they hate most in the world for a quickie in the coat closet? That's pretty foul, even for a Grimes."

"No…I didn't." Rick stated sternly, tilting his head at her. "Because you didn't see that. This never happened."

She chuckled, raising her chin and folding her arms over her chest. "What are you offering?"

"This isn't a game, Jesekai."

"Oh?" She looked him up and down, somehow amused by the serious note his tone had taken. "You aren't supposed to be seeing that girl, are you? Knowing the Grimes' grimy ways, your father probably forced you to break it off after her bouts of cocaine use."

"Like the Jesekai's are any better. Sweet daycare assistant? Coercionist would've been a proper representation." He sighed heavily and averted his eyes before looking back at her. "Now will you quit that yapping and tell me just what the hell you want?"

"Fortunately, I don't want anything from a Grimes. So, consider yourself lucky." Michonne grinned. "All that I ask is that you find another place to fornicate other than the Violette House's coat closet. I live here, you know."

She turned away and stalked toward the stairs, just as Jessie had gathered herself and was heading their way, leaving them standing by themselves in the empty corridor of Violette House.

"You left me all alone at that party." Her father Malcolm was smoking a cigar at the window of his room. "I wanted to tell you something."

Michonne stood at the door, still in her white gown from the party that had only just ended, she was sipping a glass of red wine.

"And what is that?" She approached her father at the window and stared out at the lively occurrences of Vanity Front, she could hear laughter and music.

Her father blew smoke out the window and faced her. "We're trying to get a budget approved, but it isn't looking pretty with the blatant hostility between mayor and town manager."

"What'd you expect?" She smirked, downing more wine. "People don't like division."

"You're absolutely right. Problem is, Richard and his party aren't going for a publicized handshake in Vanity Park. I should've expected that too."

Michonne shook her head. "What will you do?"

"It's not what I'll do." Malcolm looked serious as he faced her. "That Rick reached out to us after the party, he accepted our proposition."

"Wha—what proposition? I don't think a handshake with his son will be as notable as one with Richard. It'll only make the conflict seem more apparent. A rebellious son and his family's enemy. It's a bad idea, Dad."

"It's not me. The proposition was you."

"What?" Michonne blinked, laughing unamusedly. "Dad, what are you talking about?"

"Your things are being packed for the Deaux-de Vanus townhouse," he took her glass from her, turning away. "Our camp thinks a relationship between our children would be a bona fide display of peace. Richard will be forced to support it, knowing he'd be the only one left appearing hostile, therefore losing his pillar of rectitude."

"But that's…the Grimes' house…what the hell did you do?"

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