Chapter 1

***I don't own TWD or any of its associated stuff. Ho ho ho!***

Me: This was always the plan, this story. I hope y'all like it!

"I'm just thinking something bigger than the watch, you know?" Michonne mumbled between chews of her tri-tip sandwich. "We're married now. I want it to be really special, his gift. But he's so aggravating! Every time I ask him what he'd like, he says he already has everything he wants!"

Andrea giggled. "Most women want your problems. You know that, right?" She dug into her shrimp fettucine. "With Phillip and I being relatively new, there's not as much pressure. I've already got this great Irish wool sweater and that Michael Buble CD he wanted. And you can quit rolling your eyes anytime, Michonne!"

"What? It's just at the music choice, not the man. Seriously? Michael Buble?" Michonne covered quickly. The eye roll had been a little about the man, too...but she was working on it. "That's square, Andrea. You're not that buttoned down!"

Andrea took a sip of her cab. This monthly lunch was a ritual with them and Sal's had a menu that featured a lot of the comfort food they both loved as well as a pretty solid wine selection. "Buble is like Frank Sinatra or Dean Martin...retro cool. How is that square?"

"Because Frank Sinatra already did Frank Sinatra, and much better than Buble is. Besides, you like fun stuff...wild stuff. You groove on Lady Gaga and Pink and 80's hair metal...you're a civil rights lawyer. There's nothing about you that says traditional."

"I think you're putting a little much on it, okay? We're talking about a CD, Michonne. People can like what they want to like. You don't build a relationship on shared musical tastes...you should know that. One of you likes Johnny Cash and the other one likes Marvin Gaye. But you still work."

"You're not going to start teasing me about liking country just because I gave you shit about Michael Buble, are you?"

"If I gave you shit about anything, it'd be that your husband's got better taste in music than you. And getting back to that...if you can't pull the information out of Rick about what he wants for Christmas, is there another source you could get the information from? Somebody he tells that stuff to?"

Michonne snorted, taking a sip of her wine. "Who would I ask, Daryl? Assuming I could get a full sentence out of him, of course. Rick's parents wouldn't know. They love each other but it's in a very old-fashioned, non-communicative way. Every year they get him a new gun and a pair of socks. They're nice socks...but they're socks. He says he could always use more socks, though."

"Well, problem solved. Just get him some socks." Andrea hummed with pleasure as she tucked into her garlic bread, a house specialty of Sal's.

"Girl, get real. I could never get him socks. Even when we're ancient, I hope I don't get him socks."

"How did you come up with the watch last year?" Andrea queried, curious.

"His old one busted about a month before Christmas. I was out window shopping and saw it, knew that it would work perfectly with his style. Everything just fell into place. I got lucky."

"So maybe you'll get lucky again this year. Keep your eyes peeled and your ears alert. Maybe fate will set it up again this year, like last year," Andrea said encouragingly.

"Wouldn't that be perfect?" Michonne sighed. "But you can't just expect this stuff to fall into place all on its own. You're right. I'm going to have to pay close attention. We've got only a little over three weeks til Christmas. I need to find something soon."

"What about the kids?" Andrea asked. "Phillip was easy, but Penny's where I'm having trouble. She's still kind of shy around me. I guess I can ask Phillip, though."

"The kids know how to do this, they make lists, so we're all good there. And I've already got Mama, my nieces and nephews and my brothers and sister taken care of. Rick's parents, Rick and you are all I have left to worry about."

Andrea grinned mischievously. "Got ya beat. Already found yours about a month ago." She finished her glass of cab with a triumphant flourish.

Michonne smirked. "So I'll just have to make sure mine's better."

"Well if you're taking suggestions, I could really use a new Mercedes with all the options. And I'm not picky, it doesn't have to be gold. Silver works fine."

Michonne cracked up. "Even Rick isn't getting a Mercedes. Besides, I've got you handled. I'm stopping by the Dollar Tree later."

Andrea flipped her off, though as usual, she did it good-naturedly. "How are we doing Christmas this year, anyway? Carol was saying something about heading out to the farm, maybe? Do we have firm plans yet?"

"Yeah. The general consensus is that Christmas Eve is when we're all planning to get together. Christmas everyone will do their own thing. The farm is a little far to go, though. Maggie said she and Glenn would be up for hosting. Carol wanted to, but doesn't know if her kitchen will be done by then."

"I love Hershel, but yeah, it'd be tough getting back for Christmas from the farm after Christmas Eve was done," Andrea said, shaking her head a little. "Thank goodness we're doing the Secret Santa thing this year. With as much as our extended family is growing...it'd bankrupt me to have to buy for everyone. Though I'm not sure what I'm going to get for the person I drew."

"Ooooo who'd you get?" Michonne squealed, excited.

"It's secret! We're not supposed to tell anyone til we exchange!"

"Did you get me?"

"No."

"Then quit being so ethical! I didn't get you, so we can tell each other!"

"Okay, okay," Andrea muttered. "I got...Merle. He would have to come back to town for Christmas."

Michonne startled to cackle. "Oh, that's freaking hilarious! And to think, I got his damn brother!"

"No!" Andrea exclaimed, disbelieving.

"Girl, yes. Maybe after lunch, we should both head to the Dollar Tree!"

To Be Continued