*This was prompt I wrote for .com and was originally posted April 30, 2016.*
Michonne lounged on her living room floor, her wine glass filled perilously to the top as she wondered how this impromptu party had even started. Maggie had come over to show Michonne the plans she'd drawn up to extend the garden. Carol had come over looking for Maggie and it had just grown from there.
Before Michonne knew it, she'd found herself in the midst of what was basically a slumber party with booze. Lots of booze.
The boys had all been told, very politely, to find something else to do for the evening. Other than a threat from Abe about planning a panty raid, they'd all agreed to leave the ladies to their gathering.
Tara and Denise had found their own little corner in which they were arguing about which was better, Nintendo or Sony. It didn't matter at this point, but it was nice to pretend that things were still normal, even for a minute.
Everyone was drinking and laughing, almost as if the world had never ended. In reality, it had been less than two months ago that the Safe Zone had been invaded by the undead. The entire town had banded together, taking on a herd of walkers, the size of which they'd never seen before.
The walls had been breached and the casualties were many. But life had moved on. The walls had been fixed, the walkers removed, and their dead, buried.
Slivers of guilt nagged at Michonne. It seemed wrong to unwind as if walkers weren't right outside their door, waiting to devour them alive. With every sip, though, taking the night off became easier to justify.
Maggie and Carol were both working in the kitchen, putting together some sort of post-apocalypse party snack.
"What are you guys making?" Sasha questioned, getting up to check on their progress. Her face lit up with recognition.
"S'mores? Real, honest-to- god S'mores?"
Maggie beamed with pride.
"Turns out, marshmallows have a pretty long lifespan. I've been craving these like crazy so I started hoarding ingredients, hoping to make some for a special occasion."
Some might have seen this as indulgent but they'd just survived a herd of hundreds of walking corpses with their homes more or less intact and their families safe. If that didn't count as a special occasion, what the hell did?
The smell of melting chocolate was getting Michonne high. She was currently on her second or third…or fourth glass of Merlot and was feeling no pain.
"Okay, ladies, come and get it." Carol set out a tray with the goodies delicately placed in an attractive display. Everyone made a run for the counter, eager to get their hands on such a rare treat.
Michonne had no idea what Carol had done before the turn, but if it wasn't culinary related, she had missed her calling. With the first bites, moans of happiness filled the living room.
"Oh my god, this is amazing," Rosita groaned.
"Better than dog?" Maggie quipped.
"Don't remind me of that, not now!" Rosita grimaced, remembering what they'd been forced to do at their most desperate moment.
"Yes, though...much better than dog."
"Better than sleep," chimed in Tara.
Maggie licked a big glob of marshmallow that was dripping from the side of her crackers.
"Mmmm…it's almost better than sex."
Michonne couldn't help but snort. "I wouldn't know."
The suddenly quiet room and the curious stares of her friends made her realize she'd actually said that out loud.
"So..." Rosita began, "Rick's not giving up the goods?" The young woman gave Michonne an exaggerated wink.
Her brain buzzed, Michonne's eyes slowly widened as she realized what Rosita had meant.
"What? No! I mean, it's not that he isn't...we aren't…we don't…do that."
Not that I don't want to...shit, not now, focus…
The shock of the implication had Michonne flustered and her drunken state wasn't helping. Neither were the images of Rick putting his hands and mouth on her body that had started to flood her mind. These were thoughts she normally saved for those moments at the end of the day as she lay alone in her bedroom.
Some nights, it took all her willpower to remain in her own lonely bed instead of climbing the stairs and slipping into Rick's. It wasn't a fear of rejection that stopped her. What if they took that step and it didn't work out? Their friendship meant everything to Michonne. She just couldn't take that risk.
"Come on, y'all, be nice. Rick and Michonne are just good, good friends," Maggie said, seemingly coming to her friend's rescue.
"Good, good friends," she repeated, "that live together…"
Tara raised her hand as if she was a kid in class. "Ooh! And raise kids together."
"And eye-fuck each other on an hourly basis," Rosita added, giggling.
Michonne looked around, desperately searching for a way out of this. Maybe she could climb out a window…
"We don't eye-fuck. What the hell is that? I don't even think that's a thing. I don't think that's a thing you can do."
Nothing she said was really making sense but Michonne was determined to cling to whatever defense she had left.
"Okay, to be fair, you don't do it nearly as much as Rick does. That man's eyes are constantly glued to your ass, girl," Sasha teased.
Michonne's face felt hot. Part of her was embarrassed but also excited, remembering all the times Rick had looked her up and down. She'd caught him on numerous occasions but she'd had no idea that everyone else had seen it too.
"Come on, Michonne. Rick looks at you like you're an oasis and he's dying of thirst. It's a hot summer day and you're a melting waffle cone he wants to lick all over," Carol slurred.
Everyone turned their eyes to the older woman, surprised at her…descriptive word choices.
"Well…that was very…Harlequin," Maggie declared.
Carol laughed. "I used to read those books all the time. I loved the romance, the adventure. They were a small escape from what was going on at home." Maggie gave Carol's shoulder an understanding squeeze.
"Can't lie, I liked them too, mostly in high school," Michonne admitted, grateful for the change of topic.
"The men were always these big, strong hero figures. Knights, gladiators…"
"Cops," suggested Sasha, grinning.
"And cowboys…" added Rosita.
"Cowboy cops?" Sasha finished, laughing at her own joke.
Shit, there they go again…
"Okay, I got it. Rick and I should get married and have twenty babies. Message received," Michonne grumbled.
Maggie, drink in hand, sat next to Michonne, draping her other arm around her friend's shoulder.
"Would that really be so bad?" Maggie asked.
Michonne sighed, resigned. "No, no it wouldn't be bad. Maybe not twenty, though. But no…it wouldn't be bad. Actually….it would be wonderful. It's really all I want." Michonne dropped her head on Maggie's shoulder, feeling defeated but relieved.
The moment she admitted how she felt about Rick, not just to herself but to all of her crew, Michonne felt a weight disappear. She wanted him and she was tired of pushing that want to the back burner. She didn't know if her newfound bravery would disappear once she sobered up but it felt damn good to get it off her chest either way.
"There," Maggie decreed. "You finally said it. Now you gotta follow through."
"I'll work on it," Michonne promised.
Raising her head, Michonne glanced at Maggie, who was taking another swig of her drink.
"Easy there, Tiger. You have to pace yourself with vodka."
Maggie gave Michonne a small, knowing smirk.
"No worries. It's just water..."
Maggie was the only one not drinking tonight. She'd also mentioned cravings. No alcohol….cravings.
Michonne's stomach filled with butterflies as she put the pieces together.
"Oh… oh! Oh my god! Are you...?"
"I am." Maggie's face was literally glowing. Her excitement and joy were a sight to behold.
"What…what are you? What is she?" Tara asked, needing a minute to catch up.
"She's pregnant," Michonne answered, smiling ear to ear.
With that, Maggie was swarmed by her friends, her sisters, offering hugs and congratulations.
Michonne's heart just swelled. Maggie and Glenn weren't just surviving, they were living, building. She wanted that for herself. She wanted that family, that love she could call her own. She wanted that with Rick and she was pretty sure it was mutual. What she didn't want was to just wonder and dream about it. Not anymore.
For the first time since the attack, it truly felt like there was a real future and Michonne couldn't wait to see what it held for her and her family.