Disclaimer: I am in no way affiliated with The Walking Dead comic or show. I am just a fan, who is excited to spread my ideas with other fans!

A/N: I love The Walking Dead comics and the show equally. One of my favorite issues of the comics is the Michonne Special, where you take a look at her past and how she got to the point to where she entered the comics. It was a nice treat to see the background of this very mysterious character. And she is my favorite, and I thought it would be a really cool idea to have an episode like that for the show. So this is my version, it'll be a couple chapters long short story of my favorite character and her past. This is my first fanfic, so please feel free to review and tell me how I'm doing! I hope you enjoy!(ﾉ´ヮ´)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧

Michonne Special

.One day before the outbreak.

The streets of Atlanta were always bustling with passersby going about their daily lives. Their cares dedicated to their jobs or family members or significant others. All three were buzzing through Michonne's mind as she sat in the back of her town car, typing an email to Judge Stanton, as she listened to her mother berate her over the phone as to the reason why she wasn't coming to family dinner this evening.

"Chonne, darling, why do you always have to fight me?"

"Mom, I'm not fighting you, I seriously don't think I'll be able to make it. I'm swamped with work, I don't know what time I'll be getting out, then I'd have to pick up Andre from daycare, and then Mike—"

"Right the boyfriend," her mother said more to herself than to her daughter. Michonne rolled her eyes. This is why she didn't want to go. She didn't want to have an uncomfortable dinner with her parents judging her and her boyfriend.

"It's just not practical Mother," she finished the email to the judge and put her phone on the seat beside her as she searched her briefcase for her ongoing case files she was assigned to. She was due in court as soon as she arrived at the courthouse and wanted to go over her notes. Though she was already well over prepared. She was recently appointed the newest and youngest district attorney of The city of Atlanta and wanted to make sure she was on her game.

"How is my grandbaby? I never get to see him, you never come around anymore," she says sadly. Michonne sighs, one because she knew her mom was using her son as leverage, and two, because she knew her mother was right.

"He's doing really good mom," Michonne said with a smile on her face thinking about her son. Andre could always bring a smile to her face, even if he wasn't there.

"Well, darling. He's doing well," Michonne gritted her teeth as her mother corrected her English. She loathed that, "but I'm happy to hear that." Michonne put her papers back in her briefcase as they were rolling up to the front of the courthouse.

"Mom, I'll try to make it tonight—"

"Oh, darling that's wonderful!" Michonne flinched as her mother screeched in her ear on the other end of the line.

"—No promises though."

"I'll see you tonight love." Michonne shook her head.

"Wish me luck, I have my closing arguments today," she said with just a hint of nervousness.

"You don't need luck, hon, you'll be wonderful," Her mother assured her. Michonne smirked and started up the stairs.

"Thanks mommy," she clicked off her Bluetooth headpiece and entered the building.

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Michonne was calm, cool, collected as she listened to the defense attorney give his closing arguments. She watched as Collin Stevens told the jury why this man was simply mentally disturbed to be accountable for his actions. He is good, she thought. This was a game, a game she was very good at, a game she intended to win. Stevens finished his speech. And the judge asked if she'd like to begin.

Michonne did not stand. Taking her sweet time she took a sip of water. She placed the cup back down on the table and leaned back in her chair.

"Three," her voice was soft but confident, "Three, is the number of families that were destroyed that night. Three, is the number of times Mr. Holden was told 'no' by these young girls, and so he forced himself upon them. Three, is the number of girls he murdered in cold blood," Michonne got up and walked to the front of the room. Michonne's voice got a bit louder as she addressed the entire courtroom with ease," Mr. Holden is not a mentally ill man. Mr. Holden is a man, who thinks he is entitled to whatever he wants. And when these innocent girls to him 'no' for the first time in his life, he couldn't handle it. So, he took it," she was looking directly at the killing sonofabitch now, "he knew exactly what he was doing. He knew, and he didn't care," she turned to the jury, her voice softer again, "ladies and gentlemen of the jury, when you disperse, I would like you to not only look at the indisputable evidence against this man, but I would also like you to think about your daughters, and your sisters, and your mothers, and ask yourselves would you want a man like that out on the streets of this great city?...Thank you," Michonne sat back down and leaned back in her chair.

Dramatic, but very effective, she thought quite pleased with herself. The judge dismissed the jury, and she went outside to make a call.

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Mike had a busy day today. After Michonne left to bring their son to daycare and go off to court, he made himself a hearty bowl of cereal. He then went into the room in their apartment they had designated his studio and stared at a blank canvas for about ten minutes and decided he 'wasn't feeling it'. Mike then went on to play Call of Duty for the rest of the day.

His phone rang. Mike didn't reach for it at first, concentrating on killing the German soldiers on the screen, but the caller insisted as the phone kept ringing. He signed and answered it.

"Hello," he said frustrated. He put the phone between his ear and his shoulder and continued on with the game.

"Hey Mike... What is that I hear?" Mike, could hear Michonne's tone on the other end, and he knew she already had figured him out, "is that that damned video game?"

"Mmmmmmmmmmmm, no?" Mike denied, but Michonne wasn't fooled.

"Damn it, Mike, I can hear the shooting. You said you were going to paint today."

"Babe, I tried. I really did. I'm in a bit of a block, but I'll get out of it soon. You can't rush the magic," Michonne signed, and shook her head, though a small smile crept on her lips.

"Did you at least put pants on today?"

"Why is this all about me right now? What I want to know, is how did the closing arguments go today?" She noticed the change in subject, but she didn't acknowledge it.

"I think they went well," Michone looked down at her watch.

"That's my girl!" Mike said genuinely happy to hear it, "My baby is all grown up and savin' Atlanta," he quoted one of her favorite movies. Michonne laughed at this.

"Well, I'm not sure if I saved anything yet. The jury is out now. There's a mountain of evidence on this guy so it should be a pretty open and shut..." Her colleague tapped her on the shoulder and told her to come back inside, "And it was. The jury is back. I have to go, but can you do me a favor and pick up Andre from daycare? We're going to dinner at my parents tonight and you know how my mom is when we're late."

"Oh babe, I don't want to go to your parents."

"I know. It will suck, but please can you do this for me?

"For you? Fine, I'll do it."

"Thank you Mikey. I love you"

"I love you too Chonne."

She walked back into the courthouse.

A/N: Well, that's the first chapter! I hope you are enjoying, thank you so much for reading! Except an update in the next couple of days. °˖✧◝(⁰▿⁰)◜✧˖°