Part 1

Michonne stopped just short of the armory door. Two people were inside, talking in hushed tones. Whatever they were discussing, it was obvious this was a private conversation. She'd gather the weapons they had at their own home first, she decided, then come back to the armory later. Quietly, she turned on her heel to go, but one person spoke at a slightly louder volume, and she recognized Rick's voice. It was his words that stopped her short, and not a desire to eavesdrop.

"I'm so proud of you," he was saying in a deep and intimate manner. "When I heard the gunshots coming from home, I was so worried, but I thought you could handle it. Looks like I was right."

"Oh, God, I was so scared," a female replied. Michonne recognized the voice of Jessie, Pete's widow.

What the hell is going on? Why are they holed up in here, talking like this? Michonne wondered, and slid closer to the partially closed door separating her position in the pantry from where the other two were standing in the armory. She peeked around the corner at the crack in the door to see them standing very close to one another.

"When that horrible woman snuck into my house, I thought we were dead for sure," Jessie was saying. "But I thought about everything you said, that we have to fight, or we die. And I knew I just had to fight. I couldn't let everything you did for me be in vain."

"Jessie," Rick breathed out in a half-whisper as he pulled the blonde woman to his chest and met her lips with his. Wrapping his arms around her waist, he deepened the kiss.

Michonne recoiled in horror. Her mind couldn't form the words, but this was the last thing she expected to see. Without making any noise, she slipped out of the pantry and quickly made her way down the street, back toward home.

Her mind was racing as she walked. Perceptive as she was, she rarely found herself blindsided like this. All this time, she had thought Rick had hunted down Pete because he was a drunken wife-abuser. My God, she thought. Was this really about getting with Jessie all along?

She had had a sort of epiphany while escaping from the walkers after the plan of the quarry went south. One of the Alexandrians, David, had spoken with her at length about finding love with his wife, and his story was eerily similar to events between herself and Rick. All that was missing was the romantic part. David hadn't made it back, but his words stuck with Michonne. Though she resisted at first, by the time Rick had made it back to the safety of the walls, she was ready to admit it, at least to herself: she was in love with Rick. They had hugged each other tightly when he staggered through those gates, and when she told him how glad she was to have him back, his eyes shone as he directed his gaze right at her.

But they had hit the ground running right after that moment, and there had been no stopping. Rick came with news that the herd wasn't far behind him. The walkers would be at their walls within 24 hours. There was so much to fill him in one: the Wolves attacking, Carl and Judith's safety, Glenn's status as missing. There was so much to prepare: weapons and ammunition to gather, a damaged wall to repair, a rotation of guards to stand as lookouts in the direction the herd would be coming from, last minute training for so many of the clueless Alexandrians. After that initial hug, Rick and Michonne had barely laid eyes on one another. Later, she told herself. Right now is pisspoor timing. If we survive this, we'll have that conversation later. And if we don't, it wasn't meant to be.

Apparently, Rick had found time enough for some romance of his own. What the hell is she to him? Michonne thought. He can't be in love with her. We've only been in town two weeks!* She reasoned out that Rick wanted to help Jessie and keep her safe. Combine that with a pretty face and a newly available status, and it wasn't hard to follow the logic. After all, she knew Rick had been without the comfort a woman can give a man for a long time. She felt a deep desire within herself when she reflected that it had been just as long for her. She couldn't get the image of that kiss between Rick and Jessie out of her head, even as she busied herself gathering all the ammo they had in the house. The truth was, it hurt. She knew Rick wasn't hers. There were no promises between them. Yet she felt they could have a chance at building something together. They fit one another like a glove. Finding him in the arms of another woman was a nasty surprise, to say the least.

How far has it gone? She asked herself. Surely not far, the answer came immediately. He hadn't been missing from home any nights. She couldn't even remember him being unaccounted for significant amounts of time. They were always there on one another's periphery. She decided, This must be new. I doubt he would have been kissing her while her husband was still alive. That's just not like Rick. Damn, she thought, that might have been their first kiss. The thought disturbed her stomach. But that means there's time to do something about it. Maybe it hasn't gone too far yet.

Michonne stood up resolutely. She suddenly knew what she had to do.

*According the Wikipedia, Rick and his family rolled into Alexandria on day 538 of the outbreak. He returned to the ASZ after the quarry debacle on day 552.

Part 2

The house was quiet. Rick had insisted that he and Michonne get some sleep after all they had been through during their efforts to lead away the herd. Hundreds of walkers would be pounding at their gates by tomorrow afternoon, and the simple truth was that the ASZ's two best fighters needed some rest so they could be in top form tomorrow. The work required to prepare continued unabated outside by others, but in the Grimes household, all was dark and quiet.

Michonne lay on her bed, lost in thought, sleep proving utterly elusive. She wasn't even scared of the horde stumbling its way toward Alexandria. There was nothing she could do to prevent the onslaught, and it did no good to dwell on what was unchangeable and unavoidable. However, living side-by-side with death for the last two years had clarified her priorities wonderfully. Knowing that it was very possible, indeed probable, that you would die on any given day made her let go of many things she used to worry about. One of those was the fear of possible rejection. Once she made up her mind that she wanted something, she would pursue it full-throttle, and heaven help anyone who stood in her way.

She stood up and peeled off the bra and panties she had worn to bed, then grabbed her purple silk bathrobe and wrapped it around herself. Quickly, she checked her reflection in the mirror. Though she'd had her plan in mind all evening, there had not been much time for primping. A quick shower and some time with her razor before bed was all she allowed herself. But she was clean and smooth, and she smelled good. As she stood before her mirror in her short robe, she reasoned that she was as ready as she could be under the circumstances.

Quietly, she opened her door and padded across the hallway to Rick's room. Plans had been made for the kids to sleep elsewhere so that Rick could get some rest. Carl had went to bed in Darryl's room, and Judith was at Maggie's house. She knew he would be alone, and probably asleep. Silently, she opened the door without knocking and swung it lightly on its hinges, closing it behind her. Though she hadn't made a sound, Rick sat up in his bed, shirtless with a curious look on his face. He hadn't been asleep, and she had obviously surprised him by walking into his room unannounced.

"I need to talk to you," she told him in a quiet but confident voice.

"Alright," he said. "Sit down." And he motioned to a spot on the bed next to him.

"No, you come here."

Rick's look was puzzled and slightly amused. "Michonne, I'm in my underwear." He noticed that she was dressed rather scantily herself in a robe that skimmed the top of her thighs and left her cleavage very much on display. She presented quite the sensual vision, and his eyes roamed here and there over her body.

"I don't give a damn."

What on earth? He thought. But he obeyed her, swinging his legs over the side of the bed and coming to meet her across the room. He stopped about a half a foot away from her and stood in his boxer briefs, waiting. "What's on your mind?"

She looked him in the eyes, and her expression was as calm and serene. She hesitated for only the briefest of moments before reaching for the tie on her robe. She loosened it, and the robe slid off her shoulders to the floor. She stood before Rick completely naked.

"Good God, Michonne," Rick exhaled in a hoarse whisper as he took in the sight before him. His eyes devoured the twin peaks of her perfect breasts, the lines of her hard and strong belly paired with the sumptuous curve of her womanly hips, her womanhood shorn of all hair so that it was on display for him in its entirety. He brought his gaze back to hers, a question in his eyes: Are you sure?

"Kiss me, Rick," she commanded, and in less than a second she was in his arms, his lips seeking hers again and again. His tongue sought an invitation to the inside of her mouth, and she allowed it, opening her lips and welcoming his tongue inside. At the same time, his hands were all over her, rubbing her breasts, squeezing her bottom, pushing her hips up against the hard bulge that was straining against his boxer briefs. His fingers found her entrance, and he slid two fingers inside her after slicking them in her arousal. She allowed him to feel her from the inside for a few moments before pressing on his shoulders with both of her, urging him down without saying a word.

He dropped to his knees, and as she picked up one of her legs, he draped it over his shoulder. His mouth found her center, and it took his skilled lips and tongue only a few minutes to suck and lick her into a divine orgasm. As her hips trembled and her fingers tangled in his hair, Rick lapped up her juices. She tasted like honey, and he eagerly drank in every drop.

He stood back up and peeled off his boxer briefs, pressing his body against her, grinding his hips against hers. Their lips danced like old lovers well-acquainted with another.

"Michonne," he groaned. "Let me make love to you."

This was the moment she had been waiting for. She pulled back slightly, looked him straight in the eye, and said in a firm whisper, "No."

She might as well have slapped him in the face for the shocked and dismayed look he gave her. "No? What... what do you mean? You want this, surely." His expression hardened, became resolute. "I know you want this just as much —"

"Break it off with her," she interrupted.

Rick was silenced, left utterly speechless. He stared at her dumbfounded.

"Break it off with her," she repeated.

"How did you know?" Rick whispered, his eyes wide and disbelieving.

She drew him to herself once again and brought her lips to his ear. She flicked it with her tongue and sucked on his earlobe, drawing a deep moan of pleasure from him as he took hold of the round cheeks of her backside, their naked bodies rubbing pleasurably against one another. "Break it off," she whispered a third time, "and I'll ride you all night."

She broke away from him and bent down to retrieve her bathrobe. She bent over at the waist, her backside to him, presenting him with a full view of her flawless bottom and soaking-wet womanhood. "Jesus Christ," he groaned at the sight.

"Otherwise," she said, still bent over, "this is the last time you will ever see this." And she gave her ass a little shake for him. The effect on him was obvious and undeniable, from the longing on his face to the heaving of his chest to the quiver of his member.

She wrapped the robe around her body and left the room without saying another word, closing the door firmly behind herself.

Once she had gone, Rick stumbled back to his bed, almost unable to comprehend what had just happened. His body was on fire, his lust for the dark-skinned beauty so great that he felt he might burst into flames at any moment. He wrapped a hand around his erection and masturbated furiously. It wasn't enough, it wasn't her, but he couldn't hold it in. He had to release soon, or he felt would explode. He brought the fingers of his other hand up to his nose and breathed deeply. The scent of her was still there, and the pheromones hit his brain like a drug. He came harder than he had in years, pouring out his seed all over his hand and belly, imagining that he was filling her beautiful body with it.

He laid back on the mattress, finished but not sated. He knew he would never feel satisfied again until he had Michonne in his bed. Michonne, his best friend. Michonne, the finest warrior he had ever had the honor of fighting alongside. Michonne, the sexiest woman he knew. He needed her for his own. The herd would be at their door the following evening, but he knew what he had to do when morning came. He had some hard news to deliver to a certain hopeful widow.