A/N: This one goes out to the readers who not only support me, but helped me through a crazy few days when my story was stolen. Thank you from the bottom of my heart. I doubt I will ever publish anything long-form on here again, but all of the positive responses I have received from you all has inspired me to keep writing in some form. I hope you all enjoy!
The air outside was sweltering, the heavy heat of the day pressing down on her like a fist. Humidity had never been Michonne's favorite natural occurrence when she had lived in a world of air conditioning. After the turn, it was nearly unbearable. She took a break from patrolling, lowering herself to the cool grass beneath a tree, resting her back against the bark. Alexandria was quiet today. She sighed, willing her body to relax.
"Mom?"
Michonne flicked her eyes open to be met with the sight of Carl standing in front of her. His face was obscured in part by his hat, in part by the long hair that was becoming a source of contention between he and his father.
"Hey Carl," Michonne smiled at her adopted son, gesturing for him to take a seat beside her. Carl dropped down, his lanky limbs folding beneath him. She took in the wrinkles between his eyebrows, an expression she was well-versed in seeing on another face. "Something on your mind?" she asked.
"Can I ask you something?" Carl fiddled with a blade of grass, pushing it absentmindedly between his fingers.
"Of course," she sat up slightly, tilting her head in his direction.
"Do you and Dad fight?" he exhaled his question all in one breath, his eye flickering to meet hers for the briefest of moments.
"Are you talking about what happened this morning?" Michonne was embarrassed even thinking about the situation. A sink full of unwashed dishes had launched a squabble that brought a blush to her cheeks. It seemed absurd to argue over a pile of dirty bowls. Even here at the end of the world, pettiness was not beneath either of them.
Carl swallowed, intent on studying the thin blade of grass lying in his palm. "Does that happen a lot?"
"Every now and again," she admitted, watching Carl carefully. "It happens when two strong-willed people fall in love."
"Do you fight a lot?" the questions continued.
"No," it was the truth. "There's enough going on out there to fight," she gestured beyond the high walls in front of them. "You know that."
"I do," Carl met her eyes at last. "It's just…" he began to tear at the foliage in his hands. "Dad used to fight a lot with my Mom."
Michonne paused. She had never known Lori, never had the opportunity to meet the woman who brought two of her favorite human beings on Earth into existence. From what she could glean, the union of Carl's birth parents had never been particularly blissful. Whispers of their contentious relationship had reached Michonne's ears even at the prison.
"I can't promise you that your dad and I will never fight," Michonne began carefully, keeping her tone airy. "But I can promise you that we're partners. Even when we disagree, I'm still with him. Even when he's being a slob." She chuckled, shaking her head slightly.
"You would tell me, if you started fighting?" Carl looked so earnest that Michonne felt her heart clench.
"I promise you, there's nothing to tell." She reached for her son then, dragging him towards her. Carl let the grass fall from his hands, hugging her instead. Michonne squeezed him tightly, kissing him on the top of his hat. "Where's your dad?" she asked, tugging gently at Carl's hair.
"He's still at home," Carl gestured behind him. "I think he's waiting on you."
Michonne rose to her feet at once, pulling Carl up behind her. "Isn't Enid in town? Shouldn't you be with her?" She delighted in the blush that rose at once on her son's cheeks.
"I will. I just had to drop Judith off with Tara. And I wanted to check on you first." He looked embarrassed again, his eye drifting back down.
Michonne grinned fondly at him. "Tell Enid I say 'hello'," she instructed, straightening Carl's hat.
"Where are you going?" his final question was directed at Michonne's back as she started up the street.
"Home," she smiled at the grin on Carl's face as she walked off.
The front door of the house was thrown wide open, attempting to coax in a breeze. Michonne removed her shoes as she crossed the threshold, tugging the door firmly closed behind her and throwing the bolt. The smell of cleaning supplies tickled her nose.
"Rick?" she called out curiously, her bare feet padding against the hardwood floors. She located him in the kitchen, his back bowed over the counters, his arm pumping furiously. She continued her silent approach, taking advantage of his position to wrap her arms around him.
"Michonne," he spun around, surprise clear on his face. A sponge dropped from his hand, landing with a dull wet splash on the counter.
"You cleaned," she swept her eyes over the kitchen. It hadn't been this spotless since they moved in.
"I'm sorry about the thing with the dishes," Rick started in immediately, rumbling out an apology in his rough accent. "I get why you're upset. I promise, I'm going to start pulling my weight. I'll get to the bathroom next—"
Michonne cut him off with brusque kiss, pulling his heated body into hers. His skin was flushed from the heat of the day, coupled with what had obviously been a morning of intense labor.
"I love you," she declared this against his lips when they came up for air, cupping his face between both of her hands.
He smiled, still somewhat unsure. "I know that. I love you too." He licked his lips nervously.
"Good," she released him, taking a step back. "Then you'll help me with something?"
"Anything," his sharp eyes followed her as she slowly fiddled with the buttons of his shirt.
"I cleaned our bathroom yesterday," she started, warmth flooding her as Rick watched her eagerly. "But it's a hot day. We should probably clean you up next." She bit her lip, running her hands along his arms.
Rick's eyes darkened immediately, his voice dropping in timbre. "What'd you have in mind?"
"Come upstairs with me and find out," she challenged.
She turned on her heels and ran, leading Rick to their bathtub with a giggle.