"I'm telling you that I'm only looking out for you," Rick growled. "Isn't that what I promised to do?"

"Yes," Jessie admitted, staring unflinchingly in his eyes. "But you have to stop coming around here like this, checking on me, offering to take me out for 'training.' My boys are playing video games upstairs, but they could come down here any minute and see you!"

"It's a small community. Kinda hard to avoid bumping into one another," Rick argued.

Jessie shook her head. "It's one thing for them to see you out on the street or working on a project. But you showing up at my front door, inviting yourself into my living room..." she lowered her voice. "Please, would you just go for now? You can come back later tonight when the boys are asleep. If Ron comes down here and sees you... I don't know what he'll do."

Rick sighed. I didn't realize I'd have to jump through hoops like this, he thought. But he said out loud, "Fine. Later tonight. Midnight?"

"Better make it more like one o'clock," Jessie said. "Ron stays up late most nights. He... he doesn't sleep well these days."

Rick nodded tersely and stepped out the open front door into the evening air on the porch. "One o'clock", he repeated and set off for his own home.

When he walked in the door, an irresistible savory smell met his nostrils. He breathed in the heavy smell of spice and cooked meat. Following his nose, he made his way to the dining room where he found Carl, Carol, and Michonne gathered around the table. Judith was in her high chair, messily spooning her meal into her mouth and mostly missing, while Morgan was in the kitchen, apparently helping himself to seconds.

"Mmm..." Rick breathed out. "What did you make for dinner tonight, Carol? I haven't smelled anything so good in a long time."

Carol looked slightly uncomfortable for a second before giving Michonne a small smile. "Actually, I had the evening off. Michonne made dinner for us tonight."

Rick raised an eyebrow and directed his own smile toward the dark-skinned beauty as she attempted to help his daughter get more food in her mouth than her hair. "Is that so?"

Michonne turned her gaze to him and nodded, a subdued but pleased look on her face. "There should be plenty, even after feeding Morgan. Help yourself," she said, pointing towards the kitchen, while Morgan sat down at the table, laughing good-naturedly at her ribbing.

Ambling over to the stove, Rick picked up a plate and served himself a heaping portion of everything. He grabbed utensils and a napkin off the countertop before joining everyone else in the dining room. He seated himself at the table across from Michonne. Cautiously, he blew on a steaming-hot forkful before putting it in his mouth. His eyes closed and his head tilted back with pleasure at the flavor filling his mouth.

"Tastes even better than it smells!" he exclaimed, and Michonne treated him to one of her thousand-watt smiles. "I had no idea you could cook so well," Rick went on.

"My dad taught me how to make this dish. The cornmeal porridge is called sadza. I fried the fish Daryl brought us back in the traditional way, along with some vegetables from the community garden," Michonne explained, spooning a bite into Judith's open mouth. "Mom was a great cook, too, but she left this dish to Dad. It was his specialty."

Rick suddenly realized he'd never heard her talk about her parents before. The usual questions, like Where are your parents now? or How are they doing these days? no longer applied, and Rick didn't know what to say for a moment. But then he offered genuinely, "I'm very glad he taught you."

Michonne's smile turned sad. "He was a good man. He taught me a lot of things before he died."

"How did he die?" Rick asked quietly.

"Oh, it was a long time ago. Before the world went to shit, thankfully. I'm glad he didn't have to live through all of this," Michonne sighed. "Anyways, we lost him when I was 17, the summer before I headed off to college. He worked in a factory, and some ex-employee nut job with a score to settle came in and shot some people, including the boss. My dad was that boss."

Rick nodded. "I'm very sorry for your loss." He meant it with all his heart, too.

Michonne could see the deep sincerity in his eyes. "We've all lost a lot of people. It doesn't hurt now like it used to."

"Why is that?" Morgan mused aloud around a mouthful. "Is it true that time heals all wounds? Do we eventually forget just how significant these people were to us?"

With that, the mood around the table grew somber. Michonne spoke up. "I think we find others to love, others who love us." She met Rick's eyes as she continued, "We fill up the ache in our hearts with those that we love. They bring us back."

Morgan stood up and pushed his chair away from the table. He cleared his throat as he did so, drawing Michonne's gaze away from Rick. "It's my turn to wash the dishes, but I would love some company. Michonne, I've been meaning to speak with you about something. Would you join me?" he requested.

She nodded, her dreads swaying, and followed Morgan into the kitchen. As she walked away, Judith began to fuss and reach for her. She stopped, but Rick smiled and waved her on. "You go ahead. I've hardly seen my sweet baby all day. I'll get her." Still, Rick's heart swelled to realize how attached his daughter had become to Michonne, and even more at the thought of how she was just as attached to Judith.

Rick heard the sounds of water splashing quietly, dishes being jumbled around in the sink, and a quiet conversation between his two friends that he couldn't quite make out. He pulled Judith from her high chair and sat her on his lap while he forked more of Michonne's delicious food into his mouth. Just then, Judith created a very loud noise inside her diaper that surely signaled a need for a change.

"Here, Dad," Carl laughed, reaching for his little sister. "You just sat down a couple of minutes ago. I'll clean her up."

Rick smiled thankfully at his son and kept eating until his two children had made their way upstairs.

He swallowed, turned to Carol, and said, "I have to go out late tonight. I'm not sure how long I'll be gone. Carl can handle Judith just fine if she wakes up in the night, but he might be concerned if he wakes up and I'm not here. If he knocks on your bedroom door looking for me, just tell him I'm fine, taking care of some business, and I'll be home later."

Carol raised an eyebrow. "Can I ask where you're going?"

Rick met her gaze for a moment before replying, "I'm heading over to Jessie's to check on her."

Nodding, Carol sighed, "That's what I thought. Tell me, this late night visit of yours... is it going to turn into a sleepover?"

"That's not your business, Carol."

"Keeping an eye on your kids makes it my business. I ought to know whether to expect you home at all or not."

"No, I don't... I don't think anything like that will happen, so I'll probably be home after an hour or so. And..." Rick glanced towards the kitchen again as the sound of laughter floated from the other room. "Keep this to yourself, please."

"Of course."

Later that evening, Rick was sitting up in bed, reading a book, when he caught sight of Michonne walking through the hallway. "On your way to bed?" he called to her.

She stopped, turned into his room, and stood by his bed. "Yeah... what are you reading?"

For a moment, Rick forgot how to answer, her bedtime attire turned his head so. Her tiny shorts left her long, lean, muscular legs bare and wrapped snug around her pelvis, where the low waistband left several inches of her taut belly exposed. Her spaghetti-strap tank top was skin-tight and made of some sort of fabric lightweight enough to in no way conceal the shape of her braless breasts, so obviously round and firm. Rick struggled to look at her face, but his eyes were drawn irresistibly to the two peaks of her nipples, and he flushed as he realized there was only a very thin layer of fabric separating them from his longing gaze.

"Rick?" Michonne smiled down at him, bemused. "Did you even hear what I said?"

Rick cleared his throat and turned his attention on Michonne's face, willing his eyes, and his mind, to behave. "It's called 'Till We Have Faces, by C.S. Lewis."

"Oh, I've never read it." Michonne was intrigued. "I loved The Lion, The Witch, and The Wardrobe when I was a little girl, though."

"Well, this is no children's story. It's about learning to love with a pure heart, loving someone for who they are, rather than letting our own desires twist them into who we want them to be."

Sitting down on his bed, she replied, "Sounds like heavy stuff."

"Yeah... but there's something I want to ask you, if I can?" Rick changed the topic.

"Sure, of course."

"What did Morgan speak with you about earlier?"

Michonne looked surprised that Rick asked. She sighed and lay down on her belly, stretching herself out on the mattress. Her position let him see straight down the neckline of her tank top at her ample cleavage, and Rick allowed himself a peek every now and then when he thought she wouldn't notice.

"Well," she began hesitantly. "He... he asked me out on a date."

"A date?" Rick sputtered, tilting his head to one side. Whatever he had been expecting, it wasn't this. "How on earth would he take you on a date? Didn't he notice that all the restaurants have closed up shop? Oh, and you can't exactly go dancing, because we can't play music, because the noise draws the walkers to the walls!" Rick realized his voice was rising, but he didn't know how to stop himself. This crazy, foolish notion of Morgan and Michonne out somewhere on a date was so preposterous, so totally unexpected, that Rick felt himself growing angry at the idea.

"Well, I thought it was a little silly at first myself, but he suggested packing a picnic basket tomorrow night and finding a nice spot by the lake where we can sit and talk." Michonne shrugged, and one spaghetti strap slipped off her shoulder. "It sounds romantic, actually. It's very thoughtful of him."

Michonne seemed completely unaware of the extra bit of skin she had just exposed to Rick. He suddenly felt like he couldn't breathe or think clearly. He wanted to stand up and walk to the bathroom to splash some water on his face, but he didn't dare move from underneath the blanket that was covering his lap. Though she had a penchant for clothes that revealed her figure, he had never seen his friend dressed quite like this, and it had a considerable effect on his manhood. Standing up could be... embarrassing. He settled for closing his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose instead, and tried to keep his tone level. "And I suppose you accepted?"

Michonne saw right through his efforts to remain calm. "Rick, what has gotten into you tonight? You're not still concerned that Morgan isn't safe, are you? He's been sleeping right downstairs on our couch for the last several nights."

"No, no, it's not that," Rick hedged. "I just wasn't expecting... I never really thought of the two of you together."

Michonne sat up straight and pushed the strap of her top back into place. "Well... I've been alone for a long time, you know. And he's a nice guy. Not bad-looking at all. He's downright handsome when he smiles. I figured, maybe something could work there."

"Yeah," Rick breathed out, looking at his hands.

"If nothing else, maybe I'll at least get laid."

Rick gave her a look of absolute, wide-eyed horror. "Michonne, I've never heard you talk that way."

"I didn't mean on the first date, of course. Well, probably not, anyways. But, seriously, Rick. I miss sex. Don't you?"

Rick almost pulled her down on top of him right then and there. Only the thought of all the possible fallout from a rash decision made in lust stopped him. He just stared into her dark eyes, not trusting himself to respond. Michonne looked at him soberly.

"You're obviously upset. But," she lowered her voice, "it's hard for me to understand why since you're pursuing something yourself these days, Rick." She sighed and ran her hands down the front of her thighs. "I'm not sure what you're expecting from me here."

"I'm not pursuing anything," Rick said defensively.

"You can call it what you want." She stood up from the bed. "I think... I think I should go to bed now. Goodnight, Rick." And with that, she turned and walked towards his doorway. He groaned inwardly at the sight of her ass, barely covered by those shorts. Her cheeks were so round and robust that an image flashed through his thoughts of his erect cock sliding between them. And they were naked in his minds' eye. All in a moment, his mind had her whole body naked, and she was moaning beneath him, clinging to his arms as he slid his dick back and forth between her dripping-wet folds. He wanted to hear his name on her lips, wanted to leave her weak with satisfaction that only he could give her.

He shook his head. What the hell was he thinking? She was his best friend, his confidant, and a mother figure to his children. She was his right-hand woman, his trusted advisor, his most skillful warrior. How could he be letting his mind wander off into sex-filled fantasies of her? True, he'd long admired Michonne's ass, and had even wondered in passing what she would be like in bed, but he had never lusted after her like this. Their conversation, and her state of undress during it, made him want to pound her into the mattress. The thought of someone else making love to her made him want to pound his fist through the wall.

"Goodnight, Michonne." His voice was low and gravelly. He waited until he heard her shut her bedroom door before he moved from beneath the blanket to close his own. After shutting and locking the door, he glanced at the digital alarm clock on the nightstand. It read 11:35 pm. Plenty of time to take care of this, he thought as he stripped off his boxer briefs and wrapped a hand around his aching erection.