A/N: Everyone knows I love Michonne and I can write fifty pages of love poems about how stunning she is, but I have to say I'm impressed by Andrew Lincoln's physique in the past few episodes all thanks to that new shirt Rick's rockin'. I've become a fan of Rick's tight brown shirt! Keeping this one light people. Enjoy!

"Hey, what have you got there?"

Asked Glenn as Michonne quickly shoved what she had found into the plastic shopping bag that she had picked up from a kitchen drawer in the house they were searching. She was standing in what used to be the master bedroom of the house and it was almost time to leave, seeing as they had gathered necessities.

"Nothing." She lied, turning her frame so that he could not see that she was doing it once again.

"Are you still at it?" Glenn asked incredulously.

"What are you talkin' about now, Rhee?" Michonne said, with one hand placed on her hip, the other holding the bag out of view and her head tilted to the side slightly.

"I'm talkin' about you getting things for Rick when we're supposed to be lookin' for things we can all use." He teased.

While he was doing his utmost to be supportive of Maggie in her time of grief, he was relieved to go on the run and try to have a laugh or two with his friends. Goodness knew they all needed some time to breathe and laugh and remember why they were fighting so hard to live.

"Piss off! I've already filled two bags, so I can get extras if I want." She replied jokingly.

"Rick and his extras, eh? Must be good to be king." Glenn said as Michonne rolled her eyes, supressed a grin and tossed a small stuffed animal in his direction.

\m/o.o\m/

Michonne climbed the stairs with ease as she made her way towards the bedroom that Rick was currently putting Judith down for a nap in. The group had been holed up in the house for a little over two days on their way to take Noah home to his family. Michonne, Glenn, Tara and Rosita had volunteered to go on the run for supplies that would last them until they were once again ready to hit the road.

Michonne stood in the open doorway and watched as Rick stared at his sleeping daughter; she felt a smile play on her face at the sight. There was usually so much grief and horror and ugliness at the end of the world that sometimes one forgot to step back and take stock of the beauty that still remained. A father rocking his small daughter to sleep was indeed a beautiful thing.

Rick looked towards the door as soon as he realized he was not alone; he and Michonne shared a smile before she stepped into the room and sat down on the bed closest to the door. She placed the plastic bag that she was carrying onto the floor near her feet and remained silent while she waited.

Rick gently set a slumbering Judith down in the middle of the second bed and stepped away quietly. He took up a spot next to Michonne and then met her gaze.

"How'd ya go?" He asked, curious about the run they had been on; wondering if they had found any other things that could be of use to them.

"We did okay. Spread out a little further and found a little food, water, batteries; ya know, the usual. I even got some things for Judy."

Michonne said as her voice became excited at mentioning the clothing for the baby. She reached for the plastic bag and began to rifle through it. She held up a few items of small pink, yellow and white clothing while smiling; Rick smiled back at her as Michonne handed the clothes over to him.

"They're a little bit big for her now, but she's growin' so fast that they'll fit her in no time." She offered, watching the thankful expression on the man's face.

"Thank you." He said in his slow drawl. "Appreciate it."

"It's fine, Rick. You don't have to thank me. Oh, before I forget. I found this for you, here." She said while handing the dark colored garment to him.

"That shirt you're wearing now is so ratty. Thought you might like a new one." Michonne said with a knowing grin.

Rick let out a small chortle and held the t-shirt up to examine it; he thought it looked a little smaller than he usually wore, but thanked Michonne for it either way. She brushed off the gratitude he was showing her as unnecessary and scrunched the empty plastic bag in her hands.

Without another word, Rick stood from where he was seated and gripped the hem of the t-shirt that he was wearing. He suddenly drew it over his head and let the dirty garment fall to the bedroom floor. Michonne was a little taken aback by the fact that Rick would disrobe in front of her in such a manner that conceded intimacy on their part. Changing one's clothing, even at the end of the world, was something that was usually done in private where possible, especially in their group. It was something that was done in the presence of someone you were close with. Michonne's eyes widened as she took in his half naked form; she marvelled at his slight but toned frame, the prominence of his pectorals and the definition of his abdominal muscles as he reached his arms up to let the new shirt slip over his head. Rick patted the fabric down and tugged at the bottom of the shirt to make sure it was long enough then noticed Michonne; she was staring at him.

"It's a bit snug, but it fits alright." Rick said slowly, drawing Michonne from her thoughts.

"Uh? Yeah, no. It looks great. Not that anyone notices things like that these days. But you look great."

She said as she felt her face begin to grow warm with a blush. She silently prayed that Rick did not notice that she had become flustered in his presence. She hid it well, and Rick did not seem to catch on as he sat down next to her again.

"Thank you." He said again, in response to her compliment; this time, it was his turn to blush.

"Rick, what did I say? You don't have to thank me all the time."

Michonne said while Rick nodded and chuckled slightly. They sat in silence a moment as something caught her notice; Rick's hair had become displaced, his curls parted crookedly and falling over his face. Without warning, she reached her hand up and used her fingers to gently brush his curls back into place. Rick could not take his eyes off of her face as he relished in the feeling of her soft touch. He could not help but think about how close they were in that instant; how it felt so unbelievably natural for them to be that way, in that room, doing boring, mundane things. How things did not seem so boring and mundane when Michonne was around.

Her hand fell away from his curls and her eyes locked on to his. For a short while, they stared into one another's eyes. Completely forgetting about the world around them but not knowing how to proceed. Rick felt a tingling in his right hand as he felt the incredible urge to reach over and stroke Michonne's cheek; his palms sweating a little as he rubbed his hand on his dark jeans to combat it.

"Hey, you guys suit." Said a voice that shook them both from their enthrallment with one another.

"What?" Said Michonne as she quickly shifted her position and turned to the door to see who was speaking; it was Carl who had now ambled over to them quietly and sat on the chair that leaned against the wall.

"I said you guys suit. You and my Dad, you suit." The boy offered, wondering why Rick and Michonne were not understanding what he was saying.

Michonne stood and threw a confused look to Rick who looked equally as confounded as she did.

"What are you takin' about?" Rick asked finally.

Carl sighed loudly and gestured to both of their apparel.

"You suit. Your clothes are matching. See, brown tops and black jeans. You suit. You're matching." Carl explained before rolling his eyes at them and standing.

Rick stood as well and examined his clothing, then Michonne's; his son was right, they were color coordinated. Carl said something to Michonne and proceeded to lead her out the door. She glanced back over her shoulder at Rick and felt a pang of regret for the missed opportunity. What this opportunity entailed, she did not know, but she felt that something between them had shifted.

Rick offered her a small smile before she disappeared around the door and down the stairs. He stood with his hands on his hips and thought to himself, yeah, we do suit; we make a good match.

A/N: More to come! Next, let's get an idea of what Michonne was thinking when she saw Rick's brown shirt get soaked from the rain. I know what I was thinking! Let me know what you were thinking! Haha

Thanks for reading!