A/N: Part of the Richonne Writing Network 2018 Holiday Series... I feel like it's been forever since I've uploaded something, probably because it has been, lol! I hope you enjoy this Christmas offering as payment for my absenteeism :) Happy Holidays everyone!
Rick ducks underneath the garland hanging from archway as he moves into the living room toward the Christmas tree. The TV plays softly in the background, a rerun of the Dallas Cowboys game from a few days before filling the otherwise quiet room. He drops the boxes and bags that fill his hands. He's exhausted, and knows that he'll have to be right back up in a few hours as the kids rise, anxious and overzealous to get to their presents. They vow every year to not wait until the 25th hour to wrap presents, but here he is, at one thirty in the morning, sitting on the floor, getting drunk and wrapping mountains of presents. He glances at his watch again, and scrunches his eyebrows. Where in the hell is-
"Rick. Rick!"
Michonne's voice is low and harsh as she tries to get his attention from a top the stairs without waking up the children that they just got down to bed. He turns slightly, peering through the living room to try and locate his Christmas Eve drinking buddy, "Chonne, get down here and help me, will ya?"
"Come here for a second."
Rick scoffs a little, leaning over from his seated position to try and see exactly where she is, "We still have shit to wrap!"
"Just come here!" She whispers harshly, rolling her eyes as she tries to lure his dumb ass back up stairs.
She hears him moving around against the hardwood floor and runs from the top step toward their shared bedroom. She pushes the door closed with her foot, leaving it open just a hair, before she jumps onto the bed and stretches out toward the champagne bottle, quickly pouring two glasses. She glances back toward the door as his footsteps are heard against the stairs, and turns her attention toward the two bubbling flutes of golden liquid. She shoves the bottle back into the ice bucket and throws her hair over her shoulder as she positions herself seductively on the bed. She clears her throat as she leans on her side, her elbow propping her upper half up and she plays with the ends of her dreads with the other hand.
Rick sighs heavily as he gingerly makes his way past the bedrooms of his three children, careful not to wake them up after spending literal hours trying to get them all to go the hell to sleep. "Babe, we have so much to wrap sti-"
His words catch in his throat as his blue eyes catch sight of her. She's sprawled out on their bed, her legs bent at the knee as she twirls her hair in between her fingers. A brilliant smile plays on her mouth before she bites her bottom lip as she watches him watch her. His eyes roam along her legs, covered in red stockings, and up to her bare thighs. Her red thong peeks out at him underneath her red and white slightly see-through Mrs. Clause nighty. White faux fur help shape her supple breasts as a thin black belt curves underneath them. A small Santa hat sits atop her pretty head as her belly button ring teases him through the sheer material of her lingerie.
"Merry Christmas baby." She coos as she sits up on her knees and grabs the champagne flutes.
She reaches her hand out to him, the golden liquid sparkling underneath the string of white lights Michonne hung around their headboard. Rick's feet carry him toward her as she scoots toward the edge of the bed, her batting her eyes at him seductively as he takes the glass from her thin fingers. She takes a sip of her bubbly, smiling all the while as she eyes him, loving the dumbfounded expression written on his face. He can't even speak. That's a first. She cocks her head to the side, biting her lip again, "What's wrong babe?" She asks sweetly, "Don't you like your Christmas present?"
He lets out a breath, his eyes widening at the ludicrous suggestion, "You're joking, right?" She giggles in return, "Now I'm not so mad you're not helping me wrap."
"I've got something you can unwrap."
"Oh my god," Rick grunts, before downing his entire glass of champagne. He pulls his sweatshirt over his head and tosses it to the floor before undoing the button and zipper of his jeans.
She waits until he's in his boxers before pulling the champagne flute from his hands. She places them back on the dresser before turning her attention back to him, resting her hands on his shoulders. She kisses him deeply, pulling the air straight from his lungs as she sucks on his bottom lip, her eyes wandering his face. She feels him hardening against her thigh; she's got him right where she wants him. She grabs him with her hand, biting down on his bottom lip as she begins to stroke him through his boxers. He hisses, sucking air through his teeth before letting out a slow, deep, satisfied moan, "That feels so good baby." He whispers.
"Does it?" She whispers back, watching him through her eyelashes as she bites his scruffy chin, waiting for her moment to strike.
"I'll give you whatever you want, girl."
Her eyes light up at his words, "Anything I want?"
He nods quickly, biting down on his bottom lip as lust courses through his veins, "It is Christmas."
"You know what I really, really want for Christmas?" She coos as her hand continues to stroke him.
"What's that baby? Oh my god, Chonne."
Her eyes bounce back and forth between his closed ones as the butterflies multiply in her stomach, "A baby." She spits out, squinting slightly and grimacing as the news of her present hits his ears. Rick's eyes pop open after a second and Michonne throws up her hands to calm him, "Wait a second Rick," She starts, "Don't freak out."
"Don't freak out?" He asks, his eyes wide as he commences to freak out. He runs his hands through his long hair, gripping the ends with all his might.
"Rick," She warns, scooting closer to the edge of the bed, "Just relax, okay?"
"A baby?! Chonne, we talked about this!"
"I know! I know we did, but RJ is gonna be five next month and I'm not getting any younger and neither are you and-"
"But, but we talked about this." Rick mopes, falling back on the mattress and covering his face with his hands, "I'm too old for more babies."
"No you're not!" She says, crawling on top of him as she tries to pry his hands from his face, "I like having your babies." He groans loudly, causing her to laugh slightly, "Rick, please? Can we just talk about it?"
"You know, baby Jesus is looking down on you right now." He groans again. She laughs, slapping at his chest as he literally has a mental breakdown, "Lying to your husband is against the rules and especially today of all days!"
"It is not, and I didn't lie! Stop changing the subject!"
"Michonne," He draws out her name, "Babe, we talked about this after RJ."
"I know, but," She clicks her tongue a little as she takes a breath, "I just… he's so cute. And you're cute."
"Lies!"
She giggles again, "Stop it!" She sighs lightly, "I don't know, I thought I was good, I really did." She glances off into the corner of their room, where a small Christmas tree twinkles, "But then, Sasha got pregnant, and then Maggie, and Jesus and Daryl adopted that little fucker of theirs, and," She sighs again "I don't know."
Rick joins in with a sigh of his own. She lays her head on his chest and lets her fingers roam over his warm skin, tracing the new bullet wounds across his stomach and chest. Six in total. He was lucky to be here, honestly, and they both knew it. The physical wounds are just about healed but the emotional ones are still gaping and bloody. He knows this isn't about Sasha, or Maggie, or Daryl and Jesus. She wants another piece of him, just in case he doesn't come home from work one day, and that's the exact reason why he doesn't want to have anymore. Just in case he doesn't make it home one day.
He shakes his head before letting his hands fall to his side as he stares up at the ceiling, his blue eyes focusing in on the spinning fan, "You tricked me and dragged our annual Christmas sex into your web of lies." He jokes, trying to keep the atmosphere light.
She laughs, slapping him again, "I really do wanna have Christmas sex with you, just, without the condom is all. So, it's really not a trick." She reasons with him, "Technically. Jerk."
Rick closes his eyes again, his brain still racing from this sudden and genuinely surprising admission from her. Six months ago, he was just a forty six year old man, going on forty seven, with three kids. His bones crack when he walks, he makes those old man noises when he stands up, and he has no idea what the hell 'lit' means. Long story short, he was just another old man. But now, he's a forty six year old man, with three kids, on his ninth life because of some punk ass kid with a gun. He wasn't even on duty at the time, he had literally just left the station and stopped at the gas station to grab a Red bull. Then, in a flash, he's waking up in the hospital almost a week later, with six new holes in him, a terrified wife, and three traumatized children. He can't put another one through that, not after having to calm Judith in the middle of the night after a night terror or making trip after trip to Carl's school because he's taking his fear out on everyone around him. RJ won't let Rick out of his sight and once he is, it takes hours at times for the tantrum to pass. He can't put another kid through that. He just can't.
He opens his eyes, only to see the big, beautiful, brown eyes of his much younger, entirely too hot for him wife staring back at him. Her eyes are filled with worry as she bites the inside of her mouth, worried about what he's going to say next. He places his large hand on her cheek and rubs his thumb along her smooth skin. His eyes scan her face as hers do the same, both full of words that neither knows how to really express. So they just lay there, watching each other as their minds wander with thoughts of the now uncertain future.
"You were really cute with that baby bump." He sighs after a while, tucking some of her hair behind her ear.
She smiles softly, resting her chin on his chest as she plays with his hair, "Yeah?"
"Yeah." He sighs deeply, knowing deep down that he'll regret it for the rest of his life if he doesn't give this beautiful woman another baby. He brings her hand to his lips and kisses the backs of her fingers, "How long have you been thinking about this?" He asks softly, the mood taking a sudden serious turn.
A tear slips down her cheek as she looks away, finally breaking down from her nerves and the tension she's carried all day long, "A while." She whispers.
"You're scared." He states, his voice soft.
"You are too." She answers simply.
He wipes underneath her eye with his thumb, nodding slowly as he continues to stare up at the ceiling. He is. He is scared. Not much for himself, but for them. For what life can do to them if he's not there to protect them. He lets his eyes wander to the small Christmas in the corner of their room. The white lights twinkle softly as an internal battle rages within him. It's supposed to be the happiest time of the year, but here they are, shrouded in fear and uncertainty. His eyes move to the small angel that tops the little tree. Her wings have a gold hue to them as she silently and symbolically watches over their bedroom. There's something peaceful about that angel, staring down on them in this very moment. And then, something clicks within Rick Grimes. He needs to bring them peace.
Rick shifts underneath her weight, wrapping his arms around her tightly, "Stop it, there's no crying on Christmas." Michonne nuzzles into his neck as he pulls her closer, wrapping his arms around her before kissing her once, twice, three times on her forehead, "How can I say no to you?"
She sniffles as she blinks up at him through wet eyelashes, a small smile on her face, "You never have."
He chuckles, exhaling some heavy air out of his nostrils, "So why am I trying to start now?"
"I don't know." She shrugs, sniffling again, "What are you trying to say Grimes?"
"I'm saying," He says, rolling over on top of her and wiggling his eyebrows, "It's time for some Christmas sex to make a Christmas baby."
She smiles up at him, wrapping her hands around his neck to pull him down to her. She rubs her nose against his as she smiles, feeling his warm breath wash over her face, "You mean it?" She asks in a hushed voice, "Rick, I want you to mean it."
"You better take advantage of this buzz I got from the eggnog and quit asking questions woman." He sits up on his knees and pulls her by her legs up onto his lap, causing her to laugh loudly.
The Grimes' barely get any sleep between the Christmas sex, wrapping up the final presents, and succumbing to a little more sex underneath the Christmas tree. They cuddle on the couch with hot chocolate in their hands as they watch their beloved children tear through all of their hard work in mere seconds. The muted sun creeps in through the windows as laughter and squeals and pure happiness fills the living room. It's a good day; the type of day that was been few and far between for the Grimes family as of late. Michonne rests her head on her old mans' shoulder as he kisses the top of her head, the two of them unaware of the intruder beginning to take up residence in her tummy.