AN: I own nothing from the Walking Dead.

This story is going to be somewhat AU since I can easily admit that I need to brush up on what details the show does provide us with about Michonne and Andrea's time together. Since I don't have the means to do that at this time, I'm somewhat just ignoring anything the show gave us (any details/the details around Andrea's illness, etc.) and striking out on my own to narrate my own made up version of what happened between the two women.

The story is rated M for violence, language, and *ahem* sexual content. If you're not comfortable with the Michonne/Andrea pairing, this isn't the story for you.

As with all my writing, any reviews/comments are welcome. Knowing that people are reading keeps me writing.

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She lie there in the dirt, her heart pounding. It seemed like she'd been running for an eternity trying to escape the Walkers that just kept coming, wouldn't let up. She was low on ammunition, almost out, and the final Walker that had descended upon her had promised to put an end to it all. For a moment, despite her terror, she'd tried to think that at least she was going to be with Amy, with her parents, with Dale. Maybe those were the only people that really cared about her.

The others had left her. They'd all left her.

The last face she'd seen on the farm had been Carol's. She'd saved her, at least momentarily, but the Walkers were everywhere. Carol had disappeared from her sight, and she hadn't found her again, being sure that in the hoard of Walkers, some of them feeding, she'd likely become one of the victims.

She was alone.

She knew that they had probably thought she was dead. Who would have thought that she would make it out of there when she'd been thrown down at least once by the oncoming bags of rotting flesh? She had made it out, though, even she wasn't sure exactly how it had happened, but the fact remained that she'd made it out and she'd fled through the woods, also overrun with animated corpses.

And after all of that she'd die in the middle of the woods, in the damp leaves, torn apart by a Walker. All the fighting would have been for nothing, and she realized suddenly that it would have been so much better to have done what she wanted to do, to go at the CDC, with Dale there by her side. She'd left to save him, and in the end she hadn't saved him at all. She hadn't saved herself either.

The ringing in the air was a sound that she hadn't heard before and suddenly the attacking Walker slumped forward, its head severed completely from its body, revealing her savior.

Except her savior was something she was entirely unprepared for. Standing above her was a woman, yes, it was a woman, although cloaked, her face entirely hidden. In one hand she held a sword, which she slung clean of the mess the Walker had left behind. In the other hand she held chains which led back to the two armless Walkers standing just behind her.

Like dogs on a leash. Andrea thought. Who led Walkers around like dogs?

Andrea was suddenly terrified of the cloaked figure, terror stricken by her own savior. The woman swung her arm back in a fluid motion, sheathing the sword behind her back. She stood, for a moment longer, looming over Andrea, not saying anything and making no other movements.

"Please don't kill me," Andrea stuttered.

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The blonde was obviously not thinking clearly, Michonne thought. Why on Earth would she bother to kill her now? If she had any intention of not letting the woman live, she'd have merely given the Dead another minute or two to do what it intended. She wouldn't have survived anyway. She didn't have time to go around killing the Dead to save people, just to kill them moments later. That would be a waste of energy, and Michonne wasn't one to waste energy.

She also wasn't one to tolerate silliness like a blonde laying in a pile of wet leaves and begging for her life.

Michonne turned, not saying anything, and started back in the direction she'd been travelling, no longer worried about the blonde she'd seen sprinting through the woods, entirely unaware of her presence. She was only focused now on finding a place to stop for the evening, a place to make camp. She was hungry, and it was chilly. She was ready for a fire.

"I'm Andrea," the voice said, snapping her out of her thoughts. It was the blonde, apparently she was following her now, a single duffel bag thrown over her shoulder. Michonne eyed it, still not taking down her cloak. The bag was filled with guns.

They did her a world of good. Michonne thought. She'd learned long ago that guns weren't the way to go these days. Michonne wasn't much of a shot when it came to guns and you needed precision when it came to dealing with Dead. She had abandoned altogether the idea of guns not long after she discovered that they weren't going to protect her in this war zone. Her knife, which she wore strapped to her waste, and her katana, which she wore slung over her back were the things that had provided her safe passage so far.

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Andrea tagged along behind the cloaked woman, wishing that she would speak. She had introduced herself, but the cloaked woman had not responded. Andrea felt a churning in her stomach. The woman had saved her, the woman had made no move to kill her, but she wasn't speaking to her, was barely acknowledging her presence. She had turned toward her, her face still cloaked in darkness.

For a moment Andrea remembered all the old movies she'd seen where Death had appeared, or the Grim Reaper, wearing cloaks that hid some awful sight. The Grim Reaper had carried a scythe, this woman carried a sword, but the fact remained that Andrea could see the face of neither.

How had the woman come to leading around Walkers like they were pets? Who were the Walkers, and why had she chosen them?

Andrea fell out of step with the cloaked woman for a moment. She wanted to know who this person was. There was something about the mystery of the figure that drew her to want to follow her, even though part of her gut was telling her that apparently the woman wanted to be left alone, maybe she had no interest in Andrea's company at all. She seemed to be travelling alone.

She's alone, just like me. Andrea thought. Still, watching the woman walking several paces in front of her, Andrea somehow didn't feel that their situations were exactly equal. Something told her that this woman's group had not abandoned her, had not left her behind because they doubted that she could survive a Walker attack. It was as if this woman was alone because that was what she had chosen for herself.

Andrea was intrigued by a woman that would choose to be alone out here, when everything was as dangerous and unpredictable as it was. Who would be alone if they had any other choice?

She trotted forward again, trying to match step with the cloaked woman once more, determined to tag along until at least the woman told her to leave her alone. She wasn't going to go off on her own until there was some indication from the cloaked figure that her presence, although obviously not desired was also not tolerated.

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The blonde had disappeared a moment. Michonne hadn't looked back. If the blonde had decided to continue on the way that she was going, that was fine with Michonne. She didn't necessarily relish the fact of someone tagging along behind her, like a kid, relying on her to clear the way of the Dead.

A large majority of the Dead avoided Michonne as she roamed around, going anywhere and nowhere at the same time, and this was owing to the only two companions she'd had since the insanity started. They were quiet, uncomplaining companions, and they left Michonne alone with her thoughts, something she enjoyed. She didn't know how the presence of the blonde would throw off that equilibrium and if it might draw more attention from the Dead.

"My group, they left me," the blonde said. Michonne turned to look at her again. She'd caught back up. She was staying in step now, panting a little from exertion.

When Michonne didn't respond to her, the blonde had resigned herself to walking silently for a while and Michonne turned her thoughts back to looking for a place that seemed suitable to build a small fire and rest for the night, the Dead on chains keeping watch over her. She'd developed the ability to sleep very lightly, though she still woke rested most mornings.

"Did you have a group? Do you have a group?" The blonde asked. Michonne didn't respond. She didn't have a group, and she also didn't have the desire for small talk.

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Andrea was a little frustrated. The cloaked woman was saying nothing. For a moment she felt like Ebenezer Scrooge when he was face to face with the ghost of Christmas Future. It felt like the cloaked woman beside her was some sort of all-knowing entity, not even human at all. Perhaps she couldn't speak, maybe she didn't have a voice? Or was she simply choosing not to speak to Andrea?

Andrea followed her own, her frustration growing at almost the same pace as her curiosity. Who was this woman that walked through the woods, lopping the heads off of Walkers to save strangers and then just turning away from them, silently wandering off.

The cloaked figure led her to a spot where, it seemed, she was planning on stopping. She chained the Walkers that she had to a tree, and then she stripped them of the bags that they were carrying, bringing them away from them just a bit.

She still wasn't speaking, but she was moving about, attempting to make what Andrea could only guess was a camp. She cleared a space and Andrea quickly realized that she was going about gathering wood.

We're going to build a fire? Andrea thought. It seemed absurd to build a fire with as many Walkers as they had seen in the area. She thought they'd be upon them in no time, but the cloaked woman didn't slow her activity in any way.

"Can I help you?" Andrea asked. There was no response. The woman continued simply to gather wood and pile it into the space that she had cleared.

Matching the woman's silence, Andrea put herself to gathering wood, piling it into the same area. Finally the woman must have felt that they had enough wood because she sat, and began arranging it. Before Andrea really knew what was happening, she had a small fire crackling and was feeding it more wood.

She quietly rummaged in the bags, producing two cans which she opened, and placed near the fire.

She's going to feed me?

Andrea took a chance and sat near the fire, far enough from the woman that she wouldn't feel that she was crowding her, not knowing how this individual felt about human contact. From her stance and her pets, it didn't look like she would exactly be into sharing any secrets any time soon, and probably it had been some time since she'd been in the presence of others. Andrea thought that maybe that's why her socialization skills seemed a little rusty.

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Michonne put the cans near the fire to heat them. Beans were a satisfying meal, especially if that's really all you had, but they were much better if they were hot. She was freezing, and the fire was making her feel a little better, a little more relaxed. She didn't care for the cold at all.

The blonde was sitting near her, nervously watching her. Michonne smiled to herself. She had no intention of harming the woman, none at all, but it was kind of entertaining to see her squirm the way she was.

If she's so terrified, why doesn't she just go? Michonne thought.

The woman had mentioned that her group had abandoned her. Michonne had been alone all this time and had no idea what one would expect or accept from a group, but apparently it had meant a lot to the blonde. The woman was shivering, despite her proximity to the fire and she looked exhausted and sad.

Michonne reached around and rummaged in her bags. She had two blankets to her name, but she could acquire more if the need be. She offered one to the blonde, silently. The blonde hesitated as though she weren't sure she should take it.

Michonne pushed her hood down.

"Go on, take it. It's a blanket, not a snake," she said.

The blonde hesitated and gingerly reached a hand out, taking the blanket.

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Andrea took the blanket, taking a moment to study the woman in the glow of the campfire. The warmth of the fire was nice, but it was even better when she'd wrapped herself in the blanket.

The woman in front of her was not what she'd imagined. She was beautiful, even if her features were sharp and her expression cold. Still, there had been a glimmer in her eyes when she'd offered the blanket.

"Thank you," Andrea said.

"You're welcome," the cloaked woman said.

Now that they were talking, Andrea wondered if she could get more out of the woman. Maybe she could solve something of the mystery that the cloaked woman represented.

"My name is Andrea," Andrea repeated.

"Michonne," the woman replied.

"My group left me," Andrea said. "I'm sure they thought the Walkers got me. A herd of them attacked the farm we were staying at." She paused for a few minutes. There was no response from Michonne, though the woman did look at her. Michonne checked the beans and offered Andrea a can and a spoon which she produced from her bag. Andrea accepted it and ate the food greedily.

Michonne calmly ate hers, but Andrea realized that there wasn't going to be any small talk tonight. Maybe she could eventually draw some conversation out of her new travelling companion, but she wasn't going to be one to open up immediately.

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Michonne kicked out enough of the fire to leave it burning low. Andrea was already asleep, having abandoned her efforts at small talk.

Michonne curled up far enough away from the fire to avoid any flying ashes catching her blanket on fire, but close enough to soak up some of the warmth that the dying embers provided and drifted off to sleep, unsure of what she was going to do about the woman who was sleeping a few feet from her, and who was obviously considering staying with her, despite her attempt to show that she wasn't friendly and inviting in any way.

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AN: So what do you think? We're just getting started…I'm a little excited about the possibilities.

Please excuse spelling/grammar issues. They happen from time to time.