AN: I have no explanation for this other than the fact that I wanted to write it. It's just a fluffy little Christmas thing.
It should be said that I write Michonne from the comic description of having had daughters.
I own nothing from the Walking Dead or from How the Grinch Stole Christmas.
I hope you enjoy! Let me know what you think!
11111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111
It was going to be the first white Christmas that Georgia had seen in almost forty years if the forecast was correct. The predictions were for a light snow—nothing impressive in comparison to the Winter Wonderland scenes that Rick had seen on television—but it was enough to stir up everyone around. There wasn't a loaf of bread or a gallon of milk to be found in the whole state. All the panic and insanity, too, meant that wrecks had been happening left and right. People were driving like Mr. Magoo on holiday and Rick's shift ended several hours later than it was supposed to end.
Absolutely any other night, he'd be fine with that. But tonight was Christmas Eve and Rick had plans. He had important plans.
And now? He was three hours late and he'd hadn't been able to call. He wasn't even sure if he should call. He didn't want to risk waking the kids.
There were three messages on his voicemail from Lori—all in different states of hysterics or anger—that had finally declared that Christmas Eve with his children was officially cancelled. As if that wasn't bad enough, there was a short speech from her about this being a perfect example of the kind of father he'd always been. He'd never been there on time. He'd never shown up. He wasn't reliable.
He'd been reliable enough to pay their bills all those years. He was reliable enough now to pay child support for their two children, even though he sincerely doubted that his daughter was actually his child.
But he'd never been enough for Lori. Maybe Shane could be enough for Lori, because Rick never had been.
Rick didn't dial any numbers and he didn't send any messages. He left work and he drove slowly through the streets that were still somewhat overcrowded with people out preparing for the possibly-coming snow like it was the impending apocalypse. He turned down Michonne's road and slowed his car to a crawl. He'd gauge it all by whether or not she was asleep.
As he passed her house, Rick saw that Michonne's lights were on. Beyond the inside lights that burned, indicating she was awake, her outside Christmas lights were burning. She never left them on when she slept. She hadn't since Rick had helped her put them up two weeks ago. Rick pulled in the driveway and killed the engine of the car.
He tried to prepare himself for whatever might be coming next. Michonne had every reason in the world to be furious with him. He was over three hours late. She'd planned to have dinner—a nice dinner—for Rick and his children. They were supposed to watch a Christmas movie and open presents because Carl and Judith would be spending their actual Christmas with Lori. Michonne had been so excited about the prospect of having a "big family Christmas" that she'd been preparing everything for a week.
And Rick was three hours late and he hadn't been able to call.
Michonne had every reason to be furious with him and she had every reason to tell him, right then and there, to turn around, get right back into his car, and drive home.
But he figured that not showing up at all was worse than showing up three hours late.
Rick got out of the car and walked toward the house. He wished he had some flowers or something to offer her, but he had nothing. He didn't even have a gift since he'd brought those over and put them around the tree several days ago in anticipation of the Christmas gathering. When he got to the door, he didn't have to knock because the door opened before he could even make a fist.
"Judith and Carl?" Michonne asked in lieu of a greeting.
Rick shook his head at her.
"Too late," Rick said. "Lori said—Judith already went to bed and tomorrow is her day with them."
"It's not tomorrow yet," Michonne said. "And she can't do that. You have custody of them tonight."
Arguing with the lawyer side of Michonne wasn't going to get Rick anywhere, so he simply sighed and shook his head at her.
"I don't want to fight about it," Rick said. "Not at Christmas. It'll just be bad on them if I do. Judith won't know the difference but—Carl will have to hear about it and I don't want to do that to him. Not for Christmas."
Apparently realizing that Rick was still standing out in the cold, Michonne quickly backed up and ushered Rick inside. As soon as he was in the door, Rick took off his work boots and put them in their accustomed spot. He hung his coat up and then he stood face to face with the woman that had every reason in the world to be furious with him.
She studied his face, but the only indication that she wore of any mood was a crease between her brows that could come from any kind of concern.
"I called the station," Michonne said. "They said you were OK, but they wouldn't tell me what happened or why you were out so late. What happened?"
Rick shook his head at her.
"I'm sorry," he said. "I'm—I'm just sorry. People are going crazy with this snow. They're being stupid. They're not looking where they're going. They're getting in fights over bread and cans of beans. I got called to the A and P six times in a two hour period and that wasn't even dealing with the wrecks that happened. Dixon's Body Shop is going to be busy until Valentine's Day just trying to catch up with the Christmas wrecks." Michonne was still studying Rick's face with the same look of concern and he sighed. "I'm sorry," he repeated. "This wasn't how tonight was supposed to go. It wasn't what you had planned. Everything got—it got ruined."
Michonne's features softened a little and a smile played at the corner of her lips. She shook her head gently at Rick.
"You're OK," she said. "And I'm OK. Angie and Celine are OK. Carl and Judith. I'd say it could've been a lot worse."
"They're already in bed?" Rick asked.
"Have been for about half an hour," Michonne said. "But—I'm sure that Angie's not asleep yet. If you wanted to, I'm sure you could go and say goodnight. Maybe—tell her you saw Santa on your way in? Or you talked to him on the radio? Put in a good word for her?"
Rick laughed to himself.
"Yeah," he said. "Yeah—I can do that. You're not mad?"
Michonne glanced around the house like she expected someone else to be there, waiting on her response, and then she brought her eyes back to Rick's. She shook her head.
"I'm really not mad," she said. "There are worse things that could've happened and—I spent enough time thinking about them that I can't be mad over something like this."
Rick put his hands on her arms and squeezed the upper part of her arms. Michonne leaned forward, offering her lips to him in a soft pucker and he accepted the kiss that she offered, leaning into it to deepen it. He might have lingered there for the rest of the night if she hadn't pulled away from him.
"Go say goodnight to Angie," Michonne said. "And—make sure Celine didn't lose her pacifier? I'll warm you up something to eat."
And with her command, Michonne disappeared down the hallway to the kitchen, padding along in her sock feet. Rick sucked in a breath and let it out slowly. The nerves and anxiety that he'd built up in anticipation of what might happen were slowly leaving him now. He could feel the normal calm that came over him in Michonne's presence descending on him once more. The feeling was one that he'd never felt before, but it was one that Michonne seemed to magically be able to give him.
Rick made his way to the bedroom where the little girls slept. Celine was still in a crib, but Angie had recently graduated to a toddler bed that she was very proud of. She was so proud of it, in fact, that she'd tried to invite Rick to share it on more than one occasion, despite the fact he'd promised her that he wouldn't fit in it—not even as well as her mommy did when she folded up in the bed for the little girl's amusement.
In the bedroom all was quiet. Rick stopped by Celine's crib and, assuring himself that she had her pacifier, Rick paused only a moment to brush his hand over her soft curls. Deeply involved in her sleep, the baby didn't wake. Rick crossed the room to Angie's bed and took a knee. It was only when he got close to her that, in the light of the Christmas tree nightlight that kept her company during the holiday season, he could see that her eyes were open.
"You're supposed to be asleep," Rick said, keeping his voice low. Every one of Anjelica's tiny teeth shined in the light when she smiled at him.
"I asleep," she said. "Shhh..." she demanded, putting her finger to her lip. Rick smiled at her and copied the action.
"I'm sorry I wasn't here for dinner," Rick said.
"Das OK," Angie responded, a little louder than she probably should have if she was still pretending to be asleep. Rick laughed to himself.
"Yeah, that's what your Mama said too. I had to work, but I'll be here in the morning." The little girl's eyes went big.
"It Christmas!" Angie informed him. Rick shushed her for fear that she'd wake her younger sister. Michonne had them settled. He certainly didn't want to come in three hours late and then be responsible for stirring up both girls.
"It is Christmas," Rick said. "And while I was working, I got to talk to someone who wanted to know all about you. He asked me all about—if you were good and if you were helping your Mama with your sister." Anjelica nodded her head sincerely at Rick. "And he asked me if—if you were sleeping when you were supposed to be sleeping."
"Who?" Angie asked, a half-smile coming to her lips that she kept wiping away.
"Who do you think?" Rick asked.
"Santa?" Anjelica whispered.
Rick hummed at her and nodded his head.
"So you better go to sleep," Rick said. "Because I'd hate for him to get here and I'd have to tell him to leave because you weren't asleep yet."
To show her willingness to comply with his demands, Anjelica shut her eyes very tightly. Rick swallowed his laughter and leaned forward to kiss her forehead.
"Goodnight, Angie," Rick said.
"Night," she responded in little more than a whisper, her eyes still tightly pressed shut.
"Merry Christmas," Rick offered. She echoed him with words that he knew were supposed to mean Merry Christmas, even if they weren't quite accurately pronounced.
Rick left the girls' room and quietly pulled the door closed behind him, leaving it just cracked enough that Anjelica could escape if she needed something during the night. He made his way to the kitchen and found that Michonne had already set him out a plate at the table—a table that had been decorated for the dinner that nobody had attended.
"You did all this for tonight?" Rick asked, taking his seat at the head of the table where she'd placed him.
Michonne brought him a glass of water and took a seat next to him at an empty setting.
"I did it because it's Christmas," Michonne said.
"I'm sorry," Rick said. "You went through so much work and..."
"And the plates are just as nice for eating pancakes as they are for eating dinner," Michonne said. "Eat your dinner before it gets cold again. I don't know how many times that food can stand being warmed up."
Rick laughed to himself at the fact that he couldn't believe she truly wasn't mad at him. He tasted the food and quickly complimented her on it, even though he'd already known it would be delicious.
"It's great," Rick said. "Did you already eat?"
"I ate with the girls," Michonne said. "And we watched the Grinch cartoon twice."
"I hate I missed it," Rick said.
"I'm sure they'll let you watch it in the morning," Michonne assured him. He'd bought the DVD for the little girls and he'd probably seen the animated story of the Grinch at least twenty times in two weeks. They loved it.
"If I'd come in late like this? Lori would've..." Rick started.
"And Dean didn't even come home some nights," Michonne said quickly, interrupting him. "But you're not Dean, and I'm not Lori. And we're not letting them ruin our Christmas."
"Did you open gifts with them?" Rick asked.
Michonne shook her head.
"I knew you'd want to be here for that and since nobody else was here, they didn't even realize that it got postponed," Michonne said. "So instead of opening half tonight and half tomorrow, they'll just open everything in the morning. You are staying the night?"
Rick nodded his head even while he ate.
"Yeah," he said around his food. "There's no reason I have to be at home now. I don't have to take Carl and Judith home and I don't have to have any awkward conversations with them about spending the night here."
Michonne reached a hand over and squeezed Rick's arm.
"I'm sorry that Lori wouldn't let you get them," Michonne said. "Tomorrow, maybe?"
"It's her day," Rick said. "I'll just make it up to them Tuesday. We'll have second Christmas and I'll—take them to do something special, I guess."
Michonne patted his arm and unfolded herself from where she was sitting with a leg under her. She got up from her seat and went deeper into the kitchen, starting to pack up the leftovers again where she'd pulled them out to fix his plate.
"Finish up," Michonne said, "and we'll go to bed. It's getting late and Santa's coming."
Rick hummed, his stomach churning.
It was a big night. It was an important night. It was more important than Michonne even imagined and Rick had ruined it for everyone. And now he wasn't sure if it was too far gone. He couldn't even finish eating, despite how delicious the food was, for the nerves that were rolling around inside of him.
Rick stood up from the table and it caught Michonne's attention.
"I'll be right back," Rick said.
"Are you feeling OK?" Michonne asked.
"Fine," Rick said. "I'll be right back. Leave—just leave my plate. I'm coming right back."
Michonne didn't argue with him, though she looked after him with concern on her features. Rick left the kitchen and slipped into the living room. He'd put the presents out several days before and it didn't take him long to find the one that he'd hidden, tucked back in the branches of the tree, so that prying eyes wouldn't find it. He pulled the present out and looked at it, turning it over in his hand. It was the most important gift that he had to give that year and, if all went well, he'd get something far more wonderful in return for it.
Rick returned to the table and sat in front of his plate again, though he didn't bother sliding his chair all the way in. Michonne was drying a glass that she put in the cupboard, and she asked him once more if he was feeling OK.
"Come here," Rick said. "Sit down?" Michonne returned to the seat she'd been occupying earlier and Rick put the box in front of her. Michonne stared at it. "It's for you," Rick said.
"We're opening presents in the morning," Michonne said.
"I'd rather you opened this one tonight," Rick said.
"I can get something for you," Michonne offered.
Rick shook his head at her.
"Just open this one," Rick said. "We'll open the rest tomorrow." Michonne sucked in a breath and Rick was almost certain that she knew what was in the small box. She tore into the wrapping paper and removed the felt box from the paper entirely. She stared at the closed box for a second without cracking open the lid. Rick cleared his throat and laughed at his own nerves. "You know how stiff my knees can be," he teased, "but I'm going to give this a go." He lowered himself, as best he could, to one knee. He reached for her hand and Michonne let him take it, even though her face wasn't giving away yet what she was thinking. "I know it hasn't been very long," Rick said. "And I know that—you might think I'm crazy for jumping from a divorce right into this...or asking you to do the same. But all I know is that this year with you? Michonne it's been the greatest year of my life. You and the girls...and how wonderful you are with Carl and Judith. I couldn't ask for anything more wonderful for Christmas than—being able to say that this is my family. That you are my family. Tonight was supposed to be so different. And this wasn't how I had it planned but—that's been part of us. Part of both of us. Things just haven't always worked out as planned. But I love you and—I'm going to try to make them go how you want them to go from here out if you'll just—open the box and accept what's inside."
Michonne looked like she might cry. Rick thought he saw her chin quiver, but she held it together pretty well. As an attorney, it was a skill that she had acquired and mastered over time. She could hide her emotions well.
She cracked open the box and stared at the diamond ring inside. She took it out and offered it to him and Rick wasn't sure, for a moment, if she was accepting it or rejecting his proposal entirely.
But then she offered her hand to him.
"I'm not putting it on myself," she said, some cracking to her voice coming through when the first big dragon tears escaped her eyes and rolled down her cheeks.
Rick smiled at her and put the ring on her finger.
"It's a little big," Rick said.
Michonne laughed.
"It's Christmas," she said. "I'll probably grow into by tomorrow."
"Is that a yes?" Rick asked.
"Get off the floor," Michonne said. "Of course it's a yes! You know that I love you!"
Rick smiled at her.
"It doesn't mean I don't like to hear it again," Rick said.
"I love you," Michonne repeated.
"I love you too," Rick said, making sure that the words came out every bit as sincerely as he meant them.
Rick got up and Michonne leaned into him to meet him halfway up with a kiss.
"Should we go to bed?" Rick asked, breaking the kiss. "I think I hear Santa's sleigh bells outside."
"You haven't finished your dinner," Michonne responded.
Rick laughed to himself.
"I'll have it for a snack tomorrow," he offered. "Suddenly I'm feeling really ready for bed."
111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111
"You can't play in the snow in your pajamas because your toes will freeze off," Rick argued with Anjelica. "But when we finish breakfast we'll get dressed and go out to play."
Michonne stepped into the doorway of the living room, stirring up pancake batter. The sausage and bacon was already ready and on the table.
The presents had been torn into and the after-effects of it all still littered the living room floor. Wrapping paper scraps were everywhere. Toys were played with and then abandoned for other toys until they were noticed again and returned to. Celine crawled around on the floor and played with a box that was more fascinating than anything she'd gotten for Christmas while Anjelica danced and sang to every Who Ville song there was and insisted to Rick that they needed to go right now to play in the snow that had fallen during the night.
And right in the middle of all of it, the man that Michonne never meant to love—and the man that she loved more than she ever imagined possible—sat happily enjoying the chaos of her life.
Their life.
"We'll play in the snow later," Michonne said. "You can get all bundled up and Carl will help you build a snowman!"
At the mention of Carl, Anjelica perked up and gave Michonne her undivided attention.
"Carl?" Angie asked, obvious excitement to her voice.
Michonne saw Rick shaking his head at her and Michonne smiled at him and nodded her head in response.
"That's right," Michonne said. "We're going to pick him and Jude up right after breakfast. So you better come in here and get ready to eat!"
Anjelica didn't need to be told what to do twice. Besides the promise of snow-day fun, she loved pancakes more than most foods. She went as quickly as her feet would carry her to the table while Rick still sat in the floor and looked at Michonne with some question. Michonne offered him another smile.
"Get Celine?" Michonne requested.
"It's Lori's day," Rick said.
"And we'll have them home by four," Michonne said. "I talked to Lori this morning. Mother to mother and—woman to woman."
Rick's expression changed slightly. Michonne could see how moved he was simply by the thought of having his children for a few hours on Christmas—his children that sometimes he was accused of not loving enough by his ex-wife. But Michonne, whose own children barely knew their biological father, hadn't had much of a problem setting Lori straight.
Rick gathered up Celine and carried her with him to put her in her high chair for breakfast. He stopped by Michonne and shook his head at her.
"What'd you say to get her to change her mind?" Rick asked.
"I have my ways," Michonne said. "Merry Christmas, Rick."
Rick leaned and kissed her, holding the kiss until Celine got irritated and tried to push them apart.
"It is that," Rick said. "It's a very merry Christmas."