A/N: All right, y'all. Here we go! Tbh, I'm a little bit terrified to start this, because this will be the longest story I ever attempt to write, and there are like twenty characters, and I'm just... not ready. I mean, I am, but I'm not. I don't know. I really hope you guys like it, though! We're gonna be doing this for a while, so… I hope I don't let you down! (Pun intended, haha.) (Also, forgive me for using Bey yet again, but I've been planning to use this song for Richonne for actual months now. I swear I listen to other artists too, lol.) -Ash
1 – This Is The Beginning
Tears welled in Michonne's tired eyes as she stood in front of her new house. She marveled up at the beautiful thing, still in a bit of shock that it was real. Alexandria was real, and just what Noah said it would be – a community. It was a neighborhood with walls, and houses, and families. They were welcomed by the sound of children playing in the streets, running through yards. They had yards. And mailboxes and driveways. They had a front door, and Michonne had the keys to it in her pocket. It was all so unbelievable, and yet, it was real. She had a home.
If I ain't got nothing, I got you
She continued inside, happy to find that the fairly immoderate home was just as beautiful on the inside as its exterior. Hardwood floors and marble countertops, crown moldings and a fresh, neat paint job. More lighting than they could ever possibly need, especially given how much sunlight streamed in through the many windows. She couldn't help but smile. There was so much space. Their entire group could probably fit on the floor of her living room if they rearranged the furniture. To think that all of it would belong to just her, Rick, and the kids was unfathomable.
If I ain't got something, I don't give a damn
'Cause I got it with you
"Rick?" she called out to the silent home. It took her a moment, but she finally realized she had yet to see or hear him inside.
No answer.
"Babe?" She immediately and instinctively drew her sword from its scabbard and moved towards the staircase, listening out for footsteps – his or otherwise. Silence.
She inched up the stairs carefully, slowly, so as not to attract any further attention to her whereabouts, just in case this was some sort of sneak attack. She couldn't imagine that it was, as the Safe Zone was where Noah's family lived, and she had no reason not to trust him. But she also knew that all it took was a second of your guard being down for things to go awry. In fact, she had learned that in spades in the past month.
But once she made it to the top of the steps, she understood why Rick hadn't heard her. The shower was running. With a shaky sigh of relief, she re-sheathed her katana and headed toward the sound.
Their new bedroom was almost shockingly large. A king-sized bed sat in the middle of the room, but another could've easily fit on either side of it, with room to spare. His and hers dressers were at the front of the room, and a large flatscreen TV hung just above them. She lived a pretty affluent existence in her old life, but somehow, Alexandria was managing to exceed it. "This is ridiculous," she laughed to herself.
Michonne continued into the equally extravagant bathroom, smiling at the sight of Rick's naked silhouette, blurred by the steam of the walk-in shower. And as much as she enjoyed the view of her man standing there all wet and oblivious, the smile was in realization that they had hot water.
"You scared the shit outta me, you know," she told him, announcing her presence in the room.
He didn't turn, but innately smiled at the sound of her voice. "How'd I do that?"
"When I called you, you didn't answer. I was certain I was gonna find you dead in the bathtub."
"All right, Psycho," he chuckled. "What happened to, 'We don't die'?"
"I thought you reneged on me," she shrugged playfully. She found herself studying the heat radiating from the shower stall, jealous that he had gotten first dibs on it. "Is that water as hot as it looks?"
"Why don't you get in here and find out?" he shot back.
She grinned in surprise at his flirtatious response, having gotten used to the all-business persona he'd adopted on the road to Washington. They both had, really, as there was no time for a lot of pleasantries. Keeping seventeen people alive was their mission, and it had not been an easy one. They'd shared a few kisses here and there, but even when she was in the mood to sneak away with him, she wasn't sure how to say it. Perhaps because they were still trying to rebuild from their breakdown just before leaving Atlanta. So as much as she understood why he hadn't made any advances towards her, she was definitely relieved to find that that wasn't going to be his permanent state.
I don't know much about algebra
But I know one plus one equals two
She quickly began to pull off her clothes, knowing they didn't have a ton of time before the others completed their interviews with Deanna. Rick turned to watch her strip, but couldn't help but notice her katana laying just behind her on the bathroom counter, making him laugh.
"I think we're safe in here without your sword, Michonne."
She smirked as well as she shimmied out of her pants. "I brought that for you," she joked. "I'm cutting that beard off of you if it's the last thing I do."
"That's very funny."
"I'm serious, Grimes. No more excuses. Either you cut it off, or I do."
"Just hurry up and get in here." He pulled back the shower door to welcome her in, allowing the two of them to finally get an unobstructed view of the other. She really did hate that beard, but it was almost astonishing how different he looked after just a few minutes with some soap. She was certain he had gotten a shade lighter since she'd last seen him.
"Look at you," she grinned.
Instead, he quirked an eyebrow at her, taking in the sight of her magnificent naked body. "Look at you."
She shook her head and stepped inside with him, immediately soothed by the warm water hitting her face. She took the spot directly beneath the shower head, watching as the dirt on her skin melted off of her and down the drain. Rick stood behind her, enjoying her enjoying another triumph in their day full of little miracles. He wanted this for her and the kids, most of all, and it was a beautiful thing to watch this dream actually come to fruition.
And it's me and you
That's all we'll have when the world is through
He ran his hands along her shoulders and swept her hair from her neck so that the water could reach it, and so that his lips could as well. As he kissed her skin, his hands continued slowly down her sides and then back up her torso, cupping her breasts briefly, having missed the way they felt in his hands. He roamed her entire upper body, her slick flesh feeling like satin beneath his fingers.
Michonne smiled down at his touch, realizing only then how much she had missed it. What a toll it had taken on her to not have that intimacy she had gotten so used to. She was ready for it. And as they moved from underneath the water stream, she thought for sure his hands were headed southward, but instead, he brought them back up to her hair.
Before she knew it, he was massaging shampoo into her scalp. The feeling was almost orgasmic. Having someone take care of her in such a small, significant way was better than anything she could have imagined. And not just someone, but Rick. She closed her eyes and let him take over, his fingers deftly working the lather through to the end of her locs and then repeating the action through each section of her hair. She could feel the suds dripping down her chest, and behind her, his erection rubbing against her, but he didn't seem to be paying it any mind. His only focus was his woman.
'Cause baby, we ain't got nothing without love
Darling, you've got enough for the both of us
"Keep your eyes closed," he whispered, the two of them moving back beneath the water. He began to rinse the soap from her hair, gently squeezing her dreads like a sponge until all of the shampoo was gone. He wiped the bubbles from her face, caressing her cheek as he did. Kissing her neck once more, then nibbling at her ear.
He grabbed the shower gel from the ledge to their right, pouring a generous amount into his hands, working up a lather, just as he had with the shampoo. He then ran his soapy hands along every inch of Michonne's body – across her upper back and shoulders, over her breasts, her abdomen, then around to her lower back as the water beat down over the two of them. He added more soap as he moved across her backside, fondling her slippery cheeks in the process. The water rinsed as he washed. Rick then used his long, wet fingers to roam her warm, wet center, taking her by surprise when he penetrated her with his index and middle digits.
He continued to kiss her collarbone as he explored her depths, then pulled up to speak softly into her ear, "Welcome home."
So come on baby, make love to me
When my days look low
Pull me in close and don't let me go
Make love to me
She grinned warmly at just the thought, and covered his hand with her own to put his finger work on pause. She wanted more. She wanted everything. She opened her eyes to turn and face him, amused by the way his long curls were melted against his face. She ran her fingers through his beard, for what she secretly hoped to be the last time, and then moved in to kiss him. His lips immediately devoured her, and his tongue pushed into her mouth to tangle with hers. The way she kissed him back reminded him of their first kiss, minus the awkwardness. But there was an urgency to it, the way she sucked at him. She pressed her body into his, barely leaving enough space for the water to fall between them. She pulled his head closer to her, deepening their contact. Indeed, he was her home, and she had every intention of getting a warm welcome.
So when the world's at war
Let our love heal us all
Right now baby, make love to me
"All right," Michonne announced as she reentered the master bathroom with an armful of shirts. "I guess we can use these while-." She stopped mid-sentence when she caught a glimpse of her boyfriend in the mirror, his face clean-shaven and completely free of beard. She almost didn't recognize him with such a baby face. "Shit," she remarked, beaming at him.
He turned to face her, somewhat shyly, feeling foreign to even himself after nearly two years of having facial hair. As if having a house and hot water wasn't odd enough, he now looked like a completely different person, too. "You're the only person in the world I would do this for," he said seriously, looking back at himself.
"You should've wanted it for yourself," she chuckled, taking note of the mess of hair in their sink. "Moses wasn't your best look, you know."
"And this is?"
She gazed at him for a few more beats, taking in the full sight of him now. He was standing there shirtless, in just his Levis, looking pretty damn scrumptious, if she did say so herself. "With a bit of a haircut… I think it just might be."
"It's nice to know that you've always hated how I look," he joked, turning back to the mirror once more.
"Shut up." She dropped the pile of shirts to the ledge of their bathtub and loosened the towel she still had wrapped around her body. "It's a good thing I didn't put any clothes on yet..."
"Why is that?"
"I think we have time for another quick round."
His eyebrows raised in surprise that she wanted to fuck again. They had just gotten done. "I dunno, I'm startin' to feel a little objectified here."
She walked up behind him, wrapping her arms around his slim waist, taking in his clean, almondy scent. "As well you should."
There was a knock at the door downstairs that instantly brought them both out of their playful moods. They knew their own family members weren't likely to actually knock, so they were immediately on edge, separating to look around cautiously. "Stay here," Rick directed, not wanting anyone to see her wearing nothing but a towel. He grabbed her katana and carefully skulked down the steps towards the front door, only to see a blonde woman standing there, holding a laundry basket. He instantly felt ridiculous about how guarded he and Michonne had become in just a matter of seconds. He dropped the sword to the cubbyhole in the foyer and pulled the door open.
"Hey," the woman greeted him warmly. "I work in the pantry; Deanna asked me to bring this over for you and your friends."
He graciously accepted the basket to examine it, finding it full of vaguely useful household staples, like paper towels and coffee. "Thank you," he nodded, feeling suddenly very exposed. "We were just cleanin' up..."
"I can see that," she grinned, pointing to her face. "You still have some shaving cream on your chin."
He nodded, looking back at her expectantly, unsure of what to say. He was unused to having someone knock on his door. Or to having a door, for that matter.
"I'm Jessie," she added. She instantly reminded him of Lori, he noticed. The way she dressed, the way she didn't stop smiling. She seemed nice.
"Rick," he decided to tell her.
"You know," she went on, unable to look past his obviously overgrown hair, "I used to be a stylist. And… twelve other things. I could give you a cut if you want."
Rick stared at her, confused by her extreme congeniality. That didn't make sense in the old world, much less the new one. "You don't even know me."
She smiled again, understanding that he was offering her a warning. "I can take care of myself."
He squinted at her briefly, then looked back into his new home, where he knew Michonne was upstairs waiting for him. "I umm… I think my wife's got this handled."
"Oh." She shook her head in embarrassment, grinning back at him awkwardly. "Right. Of course she would. I'm so sorry."
He nodded understandingly. "Thank you for this, though."
"Of course." She was already leaving the porch as she told him, "I'll see you around."
With a sigh, Rick turned to shut the door with his back, then dropped their housewarming gift to the kitchen counter before heading back upstairs to find Michonne. She was back in their bedroom now, having exchanged her towel for a burgundy tank top and a pair of panties. She was kneeled on the floor in front of one of their dressers. "So I take it we're not having sex again?"
"You took too long," she shrugged, continuing to search through their new drawers.
"It was two minutes."
"Who was at the door?"
"Some lady with a basket full of stuff," he answered as he stooped down to join her. "Seemed nice."
She glanced at him briefly, but continued to pull out items of clothing she figured someone in the group could use. "Stuff like what?" she wondered, distractedly.
"Kitchen stuff. Dishwashing liquid, paper towels, some kind of strainer thing."
"Well that sound-."
"I might've told her you were my wife," he cut her off to announce. It had come out of his mouth so easily, he almost thought nothing of it. For all intents and purposes, she essentially was his spouse; there was no reason for him to be self-conscious about saying it. But that didn't stop him from looking over to her hesitantly, as he was totally unsure of what her reaction would be.
Michonne found herself instantly smiling at not only the idea that he'd referred to her as his wife, but also the adorable look on his face as he revealed that fact to her. "I gotta say, I kinda like the sound of that."
"Do you really?"
"I do." It wasn't so long ago that he practically went screaming for the hills when she asked for a simple definition of what they were doing. Now, here he was putting a very definitive stamp on their relationship. She gently touched his face, wiping the excess shaving cream from his chin. "So long as you like the sound of being my husband."
He smiled back at her, taking her hand from his face and intertwining their fingers. "I do."
I don't know much about guns, but I've been shot by you
And I don't know when I'm gon' die
But I hope that I'm gon' die by you
And I don't know much about fighting
But I know I will fight for you
Just when I ball up my fists I realize that I'm laying right next to you
Lyrics: "1+1" - Beyonce (4)
