"More ginger ale anyone?"
Michonne rolled her eyes, Sasha had asked the same question four times for the night. This time none of her tipsy guests bothered to respond. By now everyone knew the ginger ale was an extension of Sasha; she'd die clutching the root in her hand. She'd probably request to be buried with the thing. Despite overdosing on vodka, then ginger ale the festive Christmas Eve evening crept by at snail's pace. The biting coldness outside felt like it was seeping into Michonne's lonely bones.
What or who could warm her up? The gorgeous face of her boyfriend that she'd only seen through the inadequate screens of facetime and Skype calls over the past two months, that's who!
Attending Sasha's Annual Christmas Eve party had been a bad idea. Not even the sweet crooning of Michael Buble's rendition of Silent Night could bring her out of her funk.
Michonne was too sulky to enjoy the festivities and the delicious food that were usually in abundance at this time of the year. She knew if she mentioned to Sasha she wasn't coming this year, her old college friend would've brought the ire down with the power of a thousand suns.
Michonne always teased that Sasha's bark was often worse than her bite, but she wasn't in the mood to be snarky. She made it to the shindig; it wasn't often she got to meet up with the old crew. Christmas was one of the rare times whether by car, plane or train they all got together. Michonne's eyes darted around the brightly lit room; bells, candy canes, garlands and an infinite number of Christmas tree lights decorated the wide open space. The enormous Christmas tree stood tall in the foyer where visitors could take pictures. The house was manor-like in size; Sasha had lucked out marrying a millionaire named Abraham Ford. He was already smittened with her fast mouth, but when he found out she was carrying his, as he put it - million dollar baby - there was no delay, they were married within the week. Michonne wasn't sure marriage was in her purview just yet, but she could see herself spending the rest of her life with Rick. She glimpsed her phone again, but there were no calls from him.
She made a calculated assessment about which one of her friends would miss her first. Partying without Rick wasn't the same, especially at Christmas. Sasha and Maggie were busy arguing about Maggie's latest beau - a living breathing pirate who had a love of pirate puns. Andrea was also occupied, arguing intensely with her fiance Shane Walsh about his mountain man beard. Poor Shane was trying his best to explain to his girl that he had to grow the beard for the serial killer role he was up for, but Maggie didn't care. Michonne laughed at the comedy show they made. Tara and Carol were mixing Christmas concoctions in the large restaurant size kitchen and Rosita was lip wrestling with her famous actor boyfriend Spencer, on the love seat.
Her fugitive plan in place, Michonne was going to make like a tree and leave.
Grateful her friends were occupied she slipped out of Sasha's winter wonderland home, retrieved her car from the valet - a handsome gentleman who could easily be Jeff Goldblum's doppelganger - and started her boyfriendless trek back to the city.
By the time Michonne entered her condominium - a lavish gift from her MIA boyfriend - she made herself a cup of green tea and heated up some chicken soup she'd made the night before. She made a mental note to thank Andrea for her chicken stock recipe, her soup had never tasted better. She traded her bright red mini dress - the one she knew he loved because he said he couldn't not touch her silky, thick legs whenever she wore it - for shorts and one of Rick's expensive designer tees he'd left on his last visit. She checked her phone again; no messages or phone calls slipped by her. She knew dating a celebrity wasn't going to be as glamorous as it looked on television or read in newspaper articles and books. She had been forewarned by her friend Rosita who had been living the life a lot longer than she had been. Her friend didn't exaggerate, there were some lonely nights, but Rosita rightfully said when you love each other you do everything possible to make it work. She just didn't anticipate how hard the holidays were gonna be without the man she was head over heels in love with. She was trying to be understanding; he was doing a lot of press for his latest box office hit The Dead Walking. Joining him this time wasn't a possibility because of her work commitments and she wanted to see her friends at their annual Christmas party. Besides, if she didn't attend Sasha's soiree she'd never hear the end of it.
Rick agreed once his events were wrapped up he would make his way to her so they could spend Christmas together. She hadn't heard from him for the entire day, which wasn't the norm. His agents and publicists were taking ownership of his time; it was difficult to escape from his commitments given his recent high, in demand status. Resigning herself to celebrating the remnants of Christmas Eve alone Michonne contemplated going online to check out the Sephora sale, but decided to head to bed instead.
There was a soft knock on the door as she finished rinsing the dishes in the sink. Drying her hands on the dish towel, Michonne padded to the door. She wondered if Sasha had brought the ire for her sneaking out.
On the other side of the door deep, beautiful sea blue eyes greeted her instead. One smile from him had blown away all the darkness she'd been feeling just moments before.
"I'm late, but I'm here." Rick was still smiling, he was giving her the unsuspecting side smile that moved her from furious to frisky in three seconds flat. He was wearing clarks, a gray button up and jeans. Michonne was enamored.
"Here's all I need," she said, stepping into his waiting arms. The hug lasted longer than necessary for a greeting, but they had both missed each other. As their relationship progressed it was getting harder and harder to stay apart.
Michonne led him inside, unable to sever the connection of their intertwined fingers.
"I was trying to make it to the party. I was trying to surprise you there, but then I had to fill in a spot for Daniel at a charity for kids thing. Today's been a big rush. I left as soon as it was over."
It was well past midnight, he'd made it just in time for Christmas.
She was trying to convince herself Rick Grimes wasn't a figment of her over thirst imagination. He was as real as her addiction to cinnabon treats. A girlish buoyancy took hold of her.
"What's in the bag?" Michonne asked, curious about any potential goodies that lay in wait for her.
"Peach cobbler," Rick answered, a confident, proud smile on his handsome face.
"From around the corner?" Michonne''s face widened in surprise. Supplying her with her favorite things from her favorite places was a hobby of Rick's.
Even in his rush to get to her he thought about her enough to bring her favorite dessert, as though he wasn't a gift enough.
They sat on the sofa facing the red and green lit tree. They had decorated Michonne's christmas tree weeks ago together, they even delved into hand crafted stockings which she'd hung by the fireplace.
"You hungry?" She wasn't sure if he'd eaten or how long it had taken him to commute.
Turning to face Michonne fully on the orange couch, Rick held her cheek, his thumb caressing the softness he found there. "I am, but not for cobbler."
He licked his lips when his thumb moved over Michonne's pillowy ones. Michonne swallowed, trying to quell the beast that wanted to jump her man's bones on the couch. She wanted to ravage him like the insatiable woman she knew he alone brought out in her.
"What are you hungry for?" She was being a tease, and she knew it. With Rick she drifted often from school girl with a crush to grown woman wanting to do grown woman things. With him.
"You." He was on her in the blink of an eye. His hands held her thighs as his lips possessed hers. Michonne treasured the contrast of his hardness against her softness. Rick moaned into the kiss as her hands went around his broad shoulders. He peppered kisses on her cheeks and neck, forming a trajectory past her cleavage. He didn't want to lose the special moment between them, but he pulled back and stared at her lying beneath him ready to be worshipped and adored. Michonne's soft brown eyes were the eyes he wanted to wake up to every morning. The thought of something a lot more permanent than what they already had had been dancing across his minds for weeks. The distance between them when he was on the road was beginning to affect him more than she knew.
"I love you Michonne."
They were fully clothed, but Michonne felt stripped with the vulnerability in Rick's eyes as he shared his feelings with her. He had given her the best Christmas gift this year, one that couldn't be found under any christmas tree; himself.
"I love you too babe."
He was a guy that was used to being stretched and dissected for everyone to see. Rick found ways to give pieces of himself to Michonne he hadn't already given to the world. It was why she knew she couldn't go another day without him. To her he was just Rick. The same guy who'd won an academy award was the same guy who would do crosswords with her in bed on Sundays.
The soft glow of the Christmas tree lights and the light streaming in from the kitchen set the mood for what he was about to say next. Sitting upright, Rick pulled Michonne into his lap.
Caressing her thighs, he held her gaze, "How do you feel about moving to California?" Uncertainty at her response drummed in his chest. He didn't want her to think he was taking over her life. Although it was only fair, she had taken over his heart.
"What are you saying?" Michonne asked, feeling like her world was about to shift, but in a good way.
"I'm saying this is the last time I'm going to be late for you."
She thought they should be together all the time too, knowing he wanted what she wanted was enough for her to toy with the idea of relocating.
"I think that's something I can definitely consider as soon as you give me my Christmas present." She shot him one of her convincing, infectious smiles. The one where compliance to her request was his only option.
"I think that's a compromise I can live with." He slipped the t-shirt over her head and kissed the valley between her breasts. She was getting her first Christmas present from him and it wasn't wrapped.
"Merry Christmas," she said, her breath growing heavy under his determined devotion. Her saddest night had turned into a beautiful one, with a beautiful promise of the not too distant future. She couldn't be happier.
"Merry Christmas baby."