Spoilers: The season finale, Episode 5x16, "Conquer"

A/N: I was going to add this to my story "Family," but I decided it works better as a standalone. It takes place after the after credits scene with Michonne and her sword.

All rights belong to "The Walking Dead"

The feel of the katana on her back felt like an old friend greeting her, but also like a smug ex-lover tauntingly telling her he knew she would be back. Her soul felt heavy. It wasn't that long ago her sword was used to kill Hershel, and now it had betrayed her again. She could never get used to these kinds of loses. Even though she didn't know the man well, Reg didn't deserve to die like that. Michonne empathized with Deanna. The woman lost her husband and son in a matter of days. Michonne and the rest of her family knew all too well how that felt. Maybe now she'll see that no matter how many walls are up; nowhere is truly safe anymore.

The front door opened and Rick walked into the house still covered with walker guts and blood. They stared at each other a moment. He looked down, sighed, and looked back up at her.

"The kids?" He asked as he pulled off his jacket.

"Asleep. It's after midnight." She said.

"Right." He stood there at the front entrance looking around as if he didn't know what to do next. "I'm going to go take a shower." He said.

"Okay." Michonne nodded. He gave her a small smile that didn't reach his eyes and slowly made his way up the stairs.

Michonne looked around, just as Rick did moments before, evaluating the space. It was time to get used to this place being home. She ran her hand across the empty end table. She thought of asking Aaron to borrow his camera. It'd be nice to take a few pictures of the kids to place around the house. They needed to put their signature on the place.

She went up to her room to change out of her constable's uniform. She laid her sword next to her bed within arm's reach. Her mind echoed with the words she'd said to Rick outside Father's Gabriel's church many weeks ago: I don't miss that sword. Michonne hated how her and the weapon seem to always find each other again and again. She should just stop fighting the inevitable.

She sat on the bed to take off her boots. It took everything in her not to fall back on the mattress and pass out. She hadn't slept in more than 24 hours, but her stomach had other ideas. The growl that rumbled below made her realize she hadn't eaten anything in just as long.

"I guess you've gotten accustomed to eating regularly again." She said to herself.

Michonne padded back down the stairs with her hair pulled up into a high bun and her body feeling a bit more relaxed clothed in a tank top and pajama bottoms. She put a tea kettle on the stove and looked in the refrigerator. There was enough leftover chicken for two. Not bothering to heat it up, she put two plates of cold chicken of their kitchen table, and eased her tired body into one of the chairs.

When the kettle started to whistle Rick came back downstairs clean, wearing a fresh t-shirt, barefoot, but still in his black jeans. Indicating for her not to get up, he went to the cupboard pulled out two mugs, found two tea bags and poured hot water into both cups before joining Michonne at the table.

The only sounds were of forks scrapping their plates and the grind of their teeth chewing the food. Michonne put down her fork after taking her last bite. With a sound of contentment she picked up her mug of tea and started to sip. She studied the man before her. He still had his head bowed over his plate; downing his meal like he'd never eat another. She was worried about him. She knew they had to talk about everything that was going on, but the thought of it exhausted her even further. She felt at peace sitting there with him for the first time since they arrived in Alexandra. She wanted it to last a little while longer.

"You know the first guy to ever break my heart had a glorious beard." She said. Rick looked up at her confused, and raised one eyebrow at her. She smiled at his confusion and placed an elbow on the back of her chair. "It was jet black, full, and so soft to the touch. It looked so nice against his brown skin," She continued, "I loved the way it felt when he would kiss me. He was a Five-Percenter so my young, 18 year old self thought he was the most fascinating person in the world. I used to hang onto his every word. He was brilliant in my mind. That was until he cheated on me with my freshmen year roommate. Then he shaved and I realized he wasn't nearly as handsome as I first thought. Beards are deceitful."

Rick put his fork down and couldn't help but to let out a laugh. "Well that explains everything. No wonder you've been on an eight month mission to rid me of mine."

Michonne shrugged. "When I first saw you and that beard at the prison gate I thought maybe I should take my chances with the walkers and the Governor. You obviously couldn't be trusted." She laughed into her cup of tea.

"Well I glad you didn't." He gave her a genuine smile. "I wouldn't know what to do without you."

"You would," She said. "But you just wouldn't do it."

He looked down and shook his head. "I can't argue with that." He rubbed the stubble growing back on his face. "Lori hated me having a beard too. That's why I was always clean shaven before everything happened."

"Smart woman. Besides," She pointed to Rick's face, "There's a whole lot of pretty under all of that hair." The white bandages on his face popped even more with the new shade on pink that appeared on his skin. Michonne put her cup down, crossed her arms, and tilted her head to the side. "Did I just make Rick Grimes blush?"

Rick let out a scoff. "I have never blushed in my life."

"Suurrre. Wait until I tell Carl about this."

"Uh uh. That is not leaving this kitchen. Carol knows where the chocolate is hidden. I can have you cut off."

Michonne held her hands up in surrender. "Fine. You don't play fair. Anyway, I didn't let Mike grow a beard either. But he was against me cutting my hair so I guess we were even." She said.

"Why would you want to cut your hair? It looks great of you." He said. "Everything about you is great." Rick stared at her a beat or two longer than was necessary. He reached for her hand. Michonne closed her eyes as he started rubbing her knuckles with his thumb. She felt a month's worth of stress start to migrate from her body. When she opened her eyes again ,she saw Rick was staring off into space. She knew his mind was running a marathon. She let him go through the motions of sorting out what was in his head for a few minutes while soaking up the feel of the warmth of his hand.

"We probably should talk about tonight." He said after awhile.

"No." She said

"No?" Rick asked as he let go of her hand and leaned back in his chair.

"No," Michonne said more forcefully. "Rick, we're going to probably be talking about what happened tonight for weeks to come. There's going to be a lot of hard choices and decisions that will need to be made. But right now? Lets just be. Lets just sit here, eat our food, drink our tea and be."

Rick looked up at the ceiling then behind him into the living room. Finally he looked back at her, meeting her gaze, and nodded. "Okay." He said.

"Okay." She said.

He slid his chair from the table. She thought he was leaving to go get some sleep, but he went further into the kitchen to get a plastic container sitting at the top of the refrigerator. He walked back over to the table and handed it to her. "It's not a Big Cat, but I think it'll do for tonight." He said. She opened the container and found four of Carol's cookies inside.

"Yeah, this will definitely do." She said before biting into one of the cookies with a moan of delight. He grinned down at her, taking pleasure in her pleasure.

"So," He asked once he settled back in his chair, "Who else was crazy enough to break your heart?"

"Well there was Professor Johnson." She said

"Professor?"

Michonne shrugged. "Hey I was 22. I knew what I was doing. At least I thought I did. Then again he had a beard too so I guess I didn't learn my lesson the first time."

Rick laughed. "You never cease to amaze me." He said as he reached for her hand again.

Michonne smiled and intertwined their fingers. "Gotta keep you on your toes, Grimes."