Against Type

by B and M

Shane and Michonne have just begun a new relationship, but what happens when his best friend enters the picture? AU. No Zombies. Richonne. REPOST. Originally Published: 09-09-15, Completed: 10-10-15.

Author's Note: It's back. I received several requests to repost this story, so here it is. I am in the midst of writing an alternate and expanded version of this story called Around We Go on Wattpad (birdietaylor) if you are interested in checking it out, but I absolutely understand the desire to have this original version with the characters you (and me!) love so much, as well. Thank you for your ongoing support!

Chapter 1

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"...and so I say Hands up! and, sure as shit, that asshole puts his hands straight up and down goes the towel lettin' it all hang out. First time he ever does what he's supposed to in his whole damn life, and it's still a damn crime. Scarred for life, I tell you," he said as he erupted into laughter at his own story.

"You know I think that's about the millionth time I've heard that story," Michonne slurred into his cheek with a wicked grin.

"That's because it's a good story," he said turning his head ever so slightly to nip at her smart mouth with his.

"It was...the first time. You know less talking leaves more time for..." she trailed off as she placed her hand to his cheek and turned his head to hers for a kiss.

They sat in a secluded booth in the back corner of the bar, shoulder to shoulder, her right leg draped over his left and dangling in between his legs. His left arm rested on the back of her seat, and his right hand occupied a spot just under her skirt on her thigh. His hand crept slightly upward, grazing her inner thigh with his thumb over and over.

"Mmm, what time is it?" she asked as she broke away, letting her forehead rest on his temple.

"10:30," he read off of the dated Miller High Life clock on the wall above the bar.

"I should really go."

"You're not going anywhere. We agreed to have my friend pick us up and take us back to my place two rounds ago, remember?"

"Yeah, I was hoping you'd forget that," she giggled.

"I wouldn't let you drive right now, you kidding me?"

"I would take a cab obviously," she said dryly.

"A cab from Bold Springs to Atlanta? You know how much that'd cost?"

"I can handle it."

"I'm sure you can, moneybags, but that ain't happening tonight. We already decided, you're comin' back to my place and working from 'home' tomorrow."

Michonne stared at him, knowing he was right, but hating that he was.

"How far away is this friend of yours?"

"'Bout a 35 minute drive."

"And you called him when?"

"Twenty minutes ago."

She nodded slowly as she placed her hand on his, sliding it off of her thigh, then uncrossed her leg from over his, letting her hand rest just north of the area her leg had vacated.

"I'm going to the ladies' room," she whispered into the corner of his mouth before pulling away and sliding out of the booth.

She looked back at him and smiled before she began walking away.

"Can we get another round?" she called out to the bartender as she pointed back to their table while walking toward the restrooms in the back.

Shane gave her a ten second head start before sliding out of the booth himself and finding his way to the wooden swinging doors that led to the restrooms.

Rick walked through the side entrance of the bar, squinting as soon as he stepped in, trying to adjust to the dim lighting. He and Shane had visited their fair share of dive bars, but this place wasn't even nice enough to deserve that designation. It looked like a hold out from the seventies, untouched, with fake wood panel walls and deep red vinyl booths lining the wall across from the dark wood bar. The haze of cigarette smoke that lingered in the air burned his eyes, and he blinked trying to clear them. He scanned the bar for his friend seeing only three trucker types that likely belonged to the semi-trucks parked along the road outside. He pulled out his phone to dial Shane to make sure he was in the right place before he was spotted.

"Rick!" he shouted as he busted through the saloon doors in the back.

Rick looked up from his phone to see his friend making his way toward him with a woman in tow.

"Thanks for coming out, buddy," Shane said as he grabbed Rick's hand to shake it, pulling him in to pat his back with the other. The sweat on his forehead, the loosened and askew shirt collar, and the unmodulated volume of his voice were a dead giveaway of just how drunk he was.

"Not a problem. Glad you called," Rick said genuinely now that he saw his friend's state. He looked back at the woman who was quietly standing partially behind Shane which caused him to reach back and grab her hand, dragging her up next to him.

"Don't be shy, darlin'," he said with a smile. "Rick this is Mitch. Mitch, Rick."

"Michonne," she said holding her hand out. "It's nice to meet you."

He grasped her hand in his and shook it in return.

"Nice to meet you, too."

Rick's eyes lingered on Michonne for a moment, his blue eyes and steady gaze making her feel as if someone had turned on the lights in the bar, exposing all of her indiscretions. She and Shane had chosen this meeting place since it was a halfway point for them, but truth be told, she also liked the idea of being incognito; no chance of running into his friends or hers, just the two of them free to do whatever they please. While she had succeeded in going unseen, it was impossible for her to go unnoticed. Her lithe body and deep chocolate skin were on display in a blush colored silk tank, form fitting black pencil skirt, and black pumps that made her stand out in stark contrast to the denim clad men occupying the bar.

"Let me buy you a drink," Shane said breaking the momentary silence, shifting the attention back to himself.

"What kind of D.D. would I be if I let you do that?"

"Come on, just one while you sit with us. We just ordered another round."

Rick glanced over at their table seeing two untouched glasses of whiskey, one neat and one on the rocks. He sighed in resignation, "I'll take a Coke."

"I'm on it," Shane said as he pulled his wallet out of the back pocket of his jeans. He opened it up, and handed Michonne two singles. "Why don't you two pick out some music. We need to liven this place up."

Michonne clinched the singles between her index and middle fingers, then folded them into her palm. She looked up at Rick and gave him a shy smile, then turned to walk over to the small, neon-lit juke box mounted to the wall at the end of the bar. She used every bit of concentration she had to make it to the juke box without stumbling, knowing that someone was following right behind her. She reached her destination with no problem and immediately placed her left hand on the side of the machine to steady herself. He took a spot in front of the machine just to her right, their shoulders practically touching since there was such little space to share.

She perused the music selection in front of her seeing nothing she recognized, so she hit the button causing the plastic rack of CD's to flip over to the next. Again, nothing. The clacking of the plastic sleeves hitting each time she pressed the button was the only sound between them. She ventured a glance up at Rick who was disengaged, his head turned away looking out over the bar.

"I don't really know much about country music...I'm assuming that's what all this is since I don't recognize anything in here," she said softly causing him to look back down at her.

"I don't even know much of this stuff. It's all my dad's music. Here, let me have a try," he said moving his hand to the button she had been pressing so that he could take a closer look for himself.

They fell silent again, save for the sound of the machine, as he looked through the selections. She snuck another glance at him, but he was too absorbed in the task at hand to notice. He was about Shane's age, but thinner and with lighter brown curly hair that was just long enough that he needed to tuck the front strands behind his ear periodically. He wore a light orange and grey plaid shirt with pearl snap buttons, untucked, with the sleeves rolled up to his forearms, one of which was adorned with a silver watch, bent and propped on the edge of the machine at the level of his face which was covered with a light layer of salt and pepper scruff. She noticed that he made a small humph noise each time he reached the end of a list of music selections, seeming as perplexed as she was by the mix which surprised her given his accent and get-up.

She looked back down at the jukebox, afraid she had been staring too long in her inebriated state, and pinched the bridge of her nose, trying to refocus and read the titles as he quickly flipped through.

"Wait, go back," she said tapping his hand reflexively. He flipped back so that she could take a second look at whatever had caught her eye.

"S37," she said so that he could enter her selection. He scanned the list to see what she had picked.

"Loretta Lynn?" he asked, his accent and the surprise in his voice making the last name sound like lean.

"Featuring Jack White," she said tapping the glass with her finger. "That's the only reason I know it...and that's all I got, so you gotta pick the rest."

He didn't respond, but she looked up to see a small smile on his face. He quickly breezed through the rest of the options, and entered two more song selections before turning to her.

"You picked out Johnny Cash and Hank Williams, Jr."

"Johnny Cash and Hank Williams," she repeated with an appreciative grin.

"Hank Williams, Jr. The junior makes a difference," he corrected.

"Got it," she said with a nod. "Thank you."

"No problem," he said looking away to see Shane waving them back to the booth where he was seated.

In a booth in the corner with the lights down low

I was movin' in fast she was takin' it slow

Well I looked at him and caught him lookin' at me

I knew right then we were playin' free in Oregon

Michonne used two fingers to pick up an ice cube floating on the surface of her drink. She flicked it once to rid it of the slick of whiskey on it then popped it in her mouth, enjoying the feel of the cold ice water as it melted. She had zoned out, lost in her own thoughts for a moment, as the two men chatted at the table. A hand on her shoulder shook her and caused her to look up.

"You not gonna drink that?" Shane asked, his face so close to her cheek she could smell the whiskey on his breath which turned her stomach even more than it already was from the several she had consumed that evening.

"You know, it seemed like a good idea at the time, but I just can't do it," she said as she pushed the glass away.

"That's OK. We'll finish up and head out," Shane said to her surprise. She'd expected at least some ribbing about being a lightweight. She looked at him and nodded thankfully while patting his knee under the table.

"Can't take her anywhere," he said across the table to Rick, apparently unable to suppress the urge to tease her for too long.

"Funny, that's what I always say about you," Rick shot back good naturedly which brought a smile to Michonne's face.

"It's true. It's the God's honest truth," Shane said laughing, a small blush emerging on his cheeks. "But I've been getting better lately," he assured Michonne. "Right buddy?"

"That's right," Rick said with a small smile as he lifted the can to his lips and tossed the rest of his soda back. "Let's get out of here. Your ride's gotta be up early tomorrow...and he knows his partner won't be able to cover for him if he's late."

Rick stood next to the driver's side door of his truck waiting for Shane and Michonne to collect her belongings from her car so that he could drive them home. He watched from behind as they walked side by side across the gravel parking lot in the direction of the only other car there aside from his: a white Mercedes SUV. She wobbled once, rolling her right ankle out slightly before correcting herself. Shane immediately held out his arm to assist her, but she said something inaudible from where Rick stood, then playfully swatted at his arm causing him to laugh. In Rick's estimation, drunk or not, she was doing a fine job of walking across the uneven surface in a pair of three inch heels all on her own.

They walked around to the back driver's side door of her car where she grabbed her briefcase and matching black suit jacket. Shane held out his hand to carry her things for her, but she hesitated for a moment before lowering her head, smiling, and handing them over. She shut the door behind her then pressed the remote twice to sound the alarm. His friend waited for her to join him, then began walking once they were side by side. Michonne looked up ahead, catching Rick's eye and causing him to avert his gaze to the ground immediately while he fished for his keys in his pocket.

He'd been caught looking, but he couldn't help it. She was far from Shane's usual type, and he was intrigued. The women Shane brought around literally hung on his every word and him. They were blonde more often than not; always with a large bust and small waist, sometimes with a pretty face to go with it, sometimes not. There'd been bartenders, current and ex-trophy wives, and the occasional community college student. Rick was still unclear on Michonne's story, but he was certain that it was different from the rest.

*The song featured in this chapter is Portland, Oregon by Loretta Lynn featuring Jack White.

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Chapter 2

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"All right, well have a good day at school, and good luck on that math test. Just remember to take your time and check your work. You know your stuff."

Rick looked up from the spot where he leaned against the hood of his patrol car to see Shane approaching. He glanced down at his watch which showed a quarter 'til eight then raised his eyebrows at his partner.

"OK, buddy, I love you, too. I'll see you after school," Rick finished, bringing his cell phone down from his ear and ending the call.

"Well, I didn't expect this at all."

"What? Breakfast?" Shane asked as he handed Rick a to-go cup of hot coffee and swung a white paper sack into his belly.

"I was talking more about you makin' it to work at all, never mind on time this morning," Rick said as he opened the paper sack and took one of the warm, foil wrapped sandwiches for himself before passing it back to Shane.

"You don't have much faith in me."

"It ain't that. Let's just say, if that was me last night, I'd still be in bed. Hurtin'...bad," he said with a self-deprecating laugh.

"Yeah, but you're a boring old man compared to me, buddy. You're just not in shape these days...drinkin' shape, that is," he clarified with a mouthful of chicken biscuit since he could tell his friend was about to protest.

"And I'm good with that."

"Seriously, though, thanks for doing that last night. We weren't in any shape to drive. Mitch says thank you, too. She offered to pay for your gas, but I told her that'd never fly, so she made me promise to buy you breakfast instead."

"That's nice of...Mitch," he said unsure of what he was supposed to call her since she'd introduced herself as Michonne the night before. "You didn't mention you had a friend with you when you called last night."

"Yeah, well, I've been playin' this one close to the vest," Shane explained with uncommon sincerity.

"Why? She married?"

"Nope."

"Bank robber?" Rick asked with a growing smile.

"No," Shane said with a chuckle. "No, she's good. Far as I can tell, she's nothin' but good."

"How'd you two meet?"

"At that Falcons game I went to a couple weeks back. Her and some of her friends were tailgating next to us. We got to talkin' and never made it to the game," he said with a sly grin as he recalled their first encounter.

"So what's her story?"

"She's a lawyer in Atlanta. Not married, no kids, not crazy. Like I said, she's just good. It ain't what it looked like last night."

"I didn't say anything about that...so you finally found yourself a 'good girl,' huh?" Rick asked with a knowing smirk.

"Yeah...I know what you're thinking. After years of givin' you shit for goin' after the nice girls and settling down with one, this sounds funny comin' from me, but what can I say? Maybe it ain't so bad after all. She's probably better than I deserve, but I'm gonna try."

Rick looked at his friend and nodded in response before taking a sip of his coffee. People always had the capacity to change, but he didn't see this coming so soon given Shane's history with women.

"You know what I like most about her, man?" he offered without prompting.

"No. What's that?"

"I've dated girls who act all confident. They say things like I'll show you who's boss, and I'm like, I wish you would. And they never do. It's the same shit again and again. All talk. But her? Man, she's different. She doesn't even have to say it, she just calls me on my shit and I love it. I can't get enough of it. Maybe it's what I needed all along."

"You sure it's not just the challenge you like? The chase?"

"I don't think that's it," Shane said confidently.

"Well good for you, man. Glad you're happy."

Rick shifted his weight from one leg to another as he took the last bite of his sandwich and stared ahead thinking while he chewed. He had the distinct feeling that his friend didn't really get it, but who was he to meddle in the affairs of two consenting adults?

"...just get that motion for the Jennings case to me before you head out today so that I can review it this weekend. I want to file it first thing Monday morning...Sounds good...OK, thanks everybody. Have fun at happy hour. Sorry, I can't be there...See you Monday...Bye."

Michonne ended the call and tossed her cell onto the bed beside her, then closed her laptop and exhaled, looking around the unfamiliar space. The room was clean and uncluttered, with only a bed, nightstand, and dresser. His queen sized bed sat low to the ground on a simple metal frame, no headboard, just white sheets and a dark blue plaid comforter that, to Michonne's delight, still smelled faintly of laundry detergent. If the room wasn't housed in a hundred year old wood framed bungalow with its original hardwood floors and molding, the stark space may have come off as depressing instead of understated and charming like it did.

She slid the computer off of her lap, and got out of bed, stretching her arms over her head and letting out a loud yawn then walked over to his dresser, running a finger along the edge of it, admiring the dark wood antique piece that she imagined had been passed down through his family along with the house. She looked up and caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror, dressed in only his well-worn navy blue police training t-shirt that grazed the very tops of her thighs.

"Oh God," she whispered as she chuckled to herself.

She averted her eyes to avoid any further embarrassment from seeing herself still in this state of undress so late in the afternoon, and began opening his drawers to search for a pair of bottoms. She successfully found a pair of grey sweatpants on the second try, and slipped them on, rolling the waistband over three times to keep them from pooling at her ankles then ventured out to the kitchen to scrounge up a late lunch.

She walked up to the fridge and grabbed the handle to open it when she noticed a note in Shane's chicken scratch hanging on the door.

Sorry there's not much to eat. I wasn't expecting company.

Help yourself to anything you can find-even my last beer.

Dinner's on me tonight to make it up to you.

-Shane

She smiled to herself and opened the fridge seeing that he wasn't exaggerating at all about the lack of options which only made her smile wider.

"Well if it isn't, Mitch?"

How many times do I have to tell you that is not my name?

"None, 'cause it won't ever change anything. You're Mitch to me."

Ugh...anyway, is it OK that I called you while you're on duty? I wasn't sure if it was appropriate.

"Why wouldn't it be? You can call me anytime, gorgeous."

I don't know, I mean, you could be doing something important like helping people, saving lives...

"Right. It's been a busy day, but lucky for you, you caught me at a good time. First chance I've had to take a breather today."

Rick looked over at his partner and cocked his head to one side at his outright lie as they'd been sitting in their car in the parking lot of a Piggly Wiggly listening to the scanner for the better part of an hour. Shane was one of those people who had the annoying habit of taking all of his calls on speaker regardless of where he was and whom he was with. Rick had overheard far too many conversations between Shane and his various conquests that he could have done without, and he hoped this one wasn't going in the same direction.

Lucky for me?

Shane looked up at Rick with a grin. See what I mean? he mouthed, shaking his head in amusement.

"Lucky for me...what are you up to?"

Oh, I'm just sitting here on your back porch looking out over the lake eating a Hot Pocket and drinking your last damn beer...I didn't know you lived on a lake.

"It's more of a pond, city girl, but yeah."

I don't even have a backyard, so it's a lake by my standards...so when do you get off?

"Two hours technically...Why? You miss me?"

Miss you...I don't know about that...but I am going a little stir crazy all alone in this house...could use some company…

"Jesus Christ," he whispered in response to her change in tone; she was practically purring into the phone by the time those last words left her mouth. "I'm gonna see what I can do about cutting out a little early today."

You do that.

With that the phone went silent, and Shane looked up at Rick, wordlessly asking for a favor.

"Can't today. I've gotta pick Carl up from school," Rick said turning down his friend's request for coverage. "You can make it two hours," he assured him.

"Oh yeah, I know I can. I'm just not sure if she can," Shane responded with his typical bravado.

"Yeah, I'm sure that's the case."

Andrea hung her head low and dropped it into her hands once she spotted her friend approaching the table at their favorite Midtown restaurant wearing the same clothes she'd left the office in on Thursday.

"Don't even start," Michonne warned as she took a seat and picked up the menu, thankful their table was on the patio so that she could leave her sunglasses on.

Andrea bit her lip, trying to hold back, but couldn't resist.

"OK, I'm sorry, but can I just say...in the twelve years I've known you, I've never seen you do the walk of shame."

Michonne dropped the menu, and stared at her friend for a moment.

"Well, that's not what this is because I'm not ashamed."

"This is why I love you," Andrea laughed. It was a perfectly Michonne response as she was never one to let others get the best of her. She was about to dig in for details until she was interrupted by the server coming around for their drink order.

"Just water and an unsweet tea, please," Michonne requested.

"No bubbly today?" Andrea asked, surprised she was deviating from their long standing Saturday lunch tradition.

"I can't. I need to dry out."

"So what exactly have you been doing with yourself for the past 48 hours?"

"Hanging out with Shane," she said simply refusing to feed the drama. "We met for drinks Thursday night, and had a little too much, so I stayed over and worked remotely from his place yesterday."

"Why didn't you just have him take you to your car yesterday morning? Or last night?"

"I don't know…I didn't really think about it." Michonne confounded herself as she answered the question. She easily could have done the things Andrea had pointed out, but wasn't quite sure why she didn't.

"Really?"

"Really."

"This is getting serious, isn't it?"

"No," Michonne answered quickly and certainly this time. "This is anything but serious for either of us, I can promise you that."

"Then why are you traveling to the other side of the world for something that's not serious?"

"Andrea," Michonne admonished in light of her ridiculous exaggeration. "He lives two counties over. Anyway, you practically dragged me to that football game, telling me I needed to try something new and have some fun, and what do you know? I did. You're a genius."

"I just thought you needed to loosen up a little bit, drink some beer, eat a burger, and watch the game. I didn't think you'd fall in love with some guy who taught you how to play flip cup."

"I know you can't see my eyes behind these glasses, but they are rolled so far back in my head right now…"

Andrea took a sip of her drink, and exhaled, then grinned at her friend and lifted the glass of Prosecco to her lips once more before speaking. She needed all the reinforcements she could get before she stepped back into the ring with her friend.

"I'm just surprised is all. He doesn't seem like your type, so I didn't expect this to last more than a day never mind a few weeks."

"I'm just curious. What is my type?" Michonne inquired as she leaned back in her chair, taking her iced tea in her hand and slowly swirling the liquid with the straw.

She had a pretty good idea of what Andrea would say, but wanted to hear her take on it regardless. As Andrea paused to collect her thoughts, Michonne was distracted by her cell vibrating on the table. She looked down to see that it was Shane, and quickly silenced the call to avoid interrupting the conversation.

"Well, I see you with someone as intelligent as you, worldly, a creative type or at least someone with an appreciation for the arts, passionate, open minded…"

"So basically Mike?"

"Someone with similar characteristics, yes," Andrea confirmed.

"And how'd that type work out for me?"

"Look, you guys made a great couple, and it worked for a long time, so there's something to be said for that."

"You're right. It worked right up until he started having an affair with my secretary since he didn't have one of his own. Flipping that tired seven year itch cliché on its head was probably the most creative things he ever did…"

Andrea frowned in pity at her friend. It wasn't her intention at all to bring up the events of the past few months and bring her mood down.

"What he did to you was inexcusable, but I'm just saying-"

Michonne's phone began to vibrate again, this time interrupting Andrea. Michonne immediately silenced it again, and gave her friend an apologetic look.

"Sorry. Go ahead."

"Look, lawyer to lawyer, we can keep arguing around in circles all day long. But friend to friend, I'm just looking out for you. You know I only want what's best for you. This is what we do. I check you, you check me."

"I know, but this is what I want right now. We're having fun; nobody's doing anything wrong or getting hurt. It just works."

Michonne's phone began to vibrate again, and as she went to silence it once more and put it back in her purse so that it would be out of sight for the remainder of their lunch, Andrea held up a hand to stop her, visibly frustrated with the constant interruption.

"Oh my god, would you just answer it already?"

Michonne accepted the call and turned in her chair to avoid Andrea's stare. She cupped a hand over her mouth and whispered into the phone.

"Hey, I'm at lunch right now. Is everything OK?...No worries…I need to catch up on some work and run errands since I've been away…I'd love to, but I really shouldn't…Shane…OK, fine, just for a little bit…Do you mind if I bring Andrea?...See you tomorrow."

She ended the call and dropped the phone in her purse while she slowly turned back toward Andrea with a mischievous grin on her face.

"What did you just do?" Andrea asked. She had both elbows on the table and was leaning forward, anxious to be filled in on the other half of the conversation.

"So we're going to a BBQ tomorrow," Michonne announced casually.

"What if I have other plans?"

"I know you don't. Besides, you should try something new. Have some fun. It'll be exciting to travel across the world with me," she said playfully mocking her friend's terrible sense of geography when it came to King County.

"Fine. I suppose I owe you. Plus I'm dying to see this all for myself."

"Perfect. I'll pick you up in front of your building around 11:00."

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Chapter 3

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Shane led Michonne around his backyard by hand, stopping to introduce her to some of his neighbors and fellow officers who had stopped by his barbecue after church let out. It was an early autumn day which, in Georgia, meant that it was finally tolerable to be outside for more than a few minutes at a time. Michonne capitalized on the last few days of pleasantly warm weather for the year by wearing a crisp white cotton tank with small embroidered detailing around the neck finished off with cropped dark skinny jeans that skimmed her ankles and tan wedge sandals. The outfit drew attention to her toned arms and flawless skin, and it was obvious Shane appreciated it since he could barely take his eyes off of her as they chatted with other people.

"Andrea."

"What?" she answered without turning her head to the person seated next to her.

"You need another drink?"

She felt the beer bottle in her hand move and heard a clinking sound made by the neck of another bottle hitting hers.

"No, I'm good."

"You're watchin' her like a hawk," Rick remarked, finally getting her attention.

"I'm just observing...trying to figure out for myself what's going on with them. You can't tell me you're not the least bit curious about this pairing."

Rick took a sip of his beer and shrugged his shoulders, feigning indifference.

"Hmm," Andrea shook her head and looked back at the pair. "Guess it's just me then...he's not going to fuck her over, is he?"

Rick let out a short laugh at the way she cut to the chase after only knowing him for thirty minutes.

"He says he likes her."

"You didn't answer my question."

Rick looked at her, shaking his head in amusement. "You lawyers..." he drawled with a grin.

She didn't smile back at his little joke; she just looked at him expectantly making sure he knew she wouldn't let him get around answering her question. His grin faded, and he nodded in understanding.

"She'll be fine," Rick answered to Andrea's satisfaction. Her countenance relaxed and she sunk back into her seat a bit signaling that the interrogation was mercifully short and finished.

"Dad!"

Rick looked to his side to see his son jogging up to him with his little sister doing her best to tag along, but trailing at least ten feet behind and losing more ground with every stride he took.

"Shane and Mitch said they'd play a quick game of cornhole with us before lunch. Come on," he instructed his father versus asking.

"I play, too!" Judith announced once she reached her brother's side.

"It's two versus two, you ca-" Carl stopped himself once he picked up on the disapproving expression on his father's face. Saying yes and avoiding a meltdown from the almost three year old was in everybody's best interest. "OK, you can play, too, Judy," Carl said eliciting a smile and squeal from his sister.

Rick stood from his seat and shook his legs out before looking down at Andrea. "You coming along?"

"No, I'm gonna stay put, enjoy the view."

The Grimes family stood with Shane and Michonne midway between the two wooden platforms set up at the edge of the backyard. They divvied up the bean bags, did some light trash talking, and agreed to one quick game before lunch with the loser having clean up duties. Michonne started to follow Shane, but he stopped her and pointed to the other side.

"But I'm on your team," she protested in confusion.

"You are, but it's one player per team on each side. You go with Rick and I'll take Carl, here," he said as he grabbed the boy's shoulders with both hands and squeezed them, steering him to their side. "Hey, buddy, you mind helpin' her out? Makin' sure she knows what she's doing?" he shouted over his shoulder at the two who were still standing in the middle.

"Sure thing," Rick shouted back before looking to Michonne who was standing next to him mid-eye roll.

"So you try to get the bean bag in the hole," he said in a low voice with a smirk as he passed three red bean bags to her, keeping the blue ones for himself.

"Yeah, I figured that part out."

"I figured as much," he chuckled. "Bag in the hole is three points, bag on the board is worth one. We play to twenty one," he explained briefly in his low southern drawl, having no intention of underestimating her.

"Understood...thank you," she said quietly as she tossed one of the bean bags over and over in her hand.

"Daddy, give me those," a small voice demanded from below. They looked down to see Judith with her arms outstretched.

"That's not how we ask for things," Rick said gently, but sternly as he knelt down to be at eye level with his daughter. The little girl frowned at her father, obviously not liking to be corrected. Michonne had to bite her lip to keep from smiling so as not to encourage the bad behavior.

"Can I have them, please?" she asked placing emphasis on the please with some sass.

"I think you can say that more nicely..."

"May I have them, please?" she tried once again, devoid of attitude.

"Yes, you may," he said handing them over then returning to a standing position.

The little girl stepped in front of Michonne and looked up with her big blue eyes. "May I have them, please?"

"Of course," she said bending over to place them on the pile she had cradled in her arms.

"Thank you."

Michonne nodded and smiled, watching the little girl take off to their side dropping bean bags off her pile along the way.

She looked up at Rick who was watching his daughter with a small smile, shaking his head at what an impossibly cute mess she was struggling with her haul.

"I didn't know you had kids," she said as they started to walk.

"How would you have?"

"I know, it's just...I'm sorry about the other night. I hate that we interrupted your family time for something stupid like that."

"I didn't have them that night, so don't worry about it."

"Oh..." Michonne let out, taken off guard by his round about admission that he didn't have the traditional family life she had assumed he did. "Well, regardless, thank you. I don't think I ever said it."

"You did," he smirked remembering that she had when they piled out of his truck onto Shane's driveway that night, but not surprised if it was a blur to her. "And like I said, don't mention it."

"Hey, can we get this moving?" Shane shouted from his place behind the opposite platform. "I'm ready to win this thing and get to grilling. I'm hungry! Y'all start us off."

Rick and Michonne took their places behind the wooden platform and Rick bent down to wrangle a bean bag of each color out of his daughter's possession. Her idea of playing was evidently sitting on the ground stacking and re-stacking the bean bags which was fine with everyone involved. He handed one to Michonne and motioned for her to go ahead, but she balked given her inexperience, so he wordlessly took the initiative to start the game by lobbing the bag across the way with an underhand toss. It landed just on the edge of the hole, half in and half out. He could hear his son groaning from the other side.

Michonne stepped over to center herself, and took the bean bag in her right hand, bringing her arm up and holding it at the level of her shoulder. Rick noticed what she was doing and thought it odd.

"Most people toss it underhand."

"I used to play basketball, so I think my aim will be better this way," she explained.

He nodded and backed off, watching her bend her knees slightly and bounce as she squinted her eyes, focusing on the target, and looking like she was about to make a free throw.

"For God's sake, Rick, help her out!" Shane shouted from across the way. "That ain't how you do it."

Rick gave him a thumb's up and waved him off, taking a step towards Michonne.

"I'm just gonna pretend like I'm telling you what to do, OK?" he said scratching his beard to hide his smile. Michonne grinned at him and faced forward instead of answering.

"Hey Carl!" she shouted still in position. "You tell your Uncle Shane, I appreciate his concern, but I'm gonna do it my way."

Carl looked up at Shane, unsure of whether he really needed to repeat her message or not since he had picked up on her heavy dose of sarcasm.

"Show me!" Shane yelled back while pointed both hands in the direction of the hole right under him. She muttered something under her breath, then bent her knees, moved her arm, and flicked her wrist sending the bag flying through the air and sinking into the hole taking Rick's with it.

She decided to forego words and bragging, and instead held her hands out to her side, palms up, letting her body language ask what's up. She felt Rick step in next to her and looked up to see his reaction.

"Thank you," he said out of the side of his mouth.

"For what? Shutting him up?"

"No, for the three points you just got me."

"What?" she shrieked.

"You knocked my bag in, so I get three points instead of one now. You basically cancelled yours out."

"Son of a..." she trailed off when she caught Judith out of the corner of her eye. "You didn't tell me that."

"I meant to...sorry. Not like you could have avoided it."

"You don't know that! I might have been able to."

"Yeah?" he asked cracking a smile, admiring her confidence.

"Yeah," she said as she began to step out of her wedges, and place them off to the side.

"What are you doing?"

"I'm putting on my game face. This just got serious," she warned.

He couldn't help himself from laughing at her change in demeanor, even though he knew it would only fuel her more.

"I don't know why you're laughing," she said looking straight ahead with her arms crossed, waiting to see what their teammates would do on their turn. Carl hit the board too high causing his bag to skid off the back, and Shane landed one on the middle of the board earning them a point. Michonne gave Rick an unimpressed look since nothing much had happened that round to change the game.

"Daddy, look!"

The two adults turned to find Judith, keeper of the bean bags, standing in Michonne's discarded sandals with her hands on her hips, clearly enjoying the added height.

"Baby, those aren't yours. Get down," he said as he stepped toward her to forcibly remove her if she refused. "I'm sorry," he said over his shoulder to Michonne whose game face was blown.

"Wait, wait, wait. You need to get a picture of this," Michonne said through her laughter. "She looks so cute."

"I don't have my phone on me."

"I'll get it and send it to you," she said pulling her phone out of her pocket and kneeling in front of Judith. "OK, ready? Give me a big smile. One, two, three." Michonne looked at the picture, impressed with little girl's pose. "You look good and you know it!" Michonne said which got a laugh from the little girl.

"Trust me, she knows it," he muttered to Michonne as she tilted the phone toward him to show him the picture. Being the baby of the family, and a particularly cute little girl at that, she received more than her share of attention from family, friends, and strangers.

"All right, let's go," he said lifting his daughter out of the shoes and placing her on his hip for a moment. It was something he used to do so often, but the occasions to do so were fewer and farther between as she got older.

"Can I see?" she asked Michonne who held her camera in front of her to show her the picture.

"Pretty," she said as she stared at her image.

Rick shook his head, knowing he was in for a world of trouble with this one. He smoothed her hair with his hand and placed a kiss on her head before putting her back on the ground.

"OK, why don't you get us a red one and a blue one," he said pointing to bean bags scattered around them from the last round.

"Just so you know, that doesn't change anything. I'm still gonna beat you. Bad," Michonne advised as he passed the bag to her.

She grabbed the bag and pulled, but he didn't release his grip on it.

"You can try, but that's not gonna happen," he said staring her down for a moment before releasing the bag, causing her hand snap back and bounce against her belly.

"The hell are you two doing over there? It's gonna take all day to finish this game at the rate we're going," Shane called over.

Michonne broke eye contact with Rick and exhaled, then waved over at Shane as an apology as she took her spot for the next round.

"My mom says I should be a lawyer," Carl said between bites of his corn on the cob.

"Why's that?" Michonne asked from her spot across the picnic table.

"Because she says I try to argue my way out of everything with her," he answered proudly.

"Oh, I see. Well not all lawyers go to court and 'argue.' Some do a lot of research and paperwork like contracts, or they handle legal issues for big companies or the government, or they try to solve problems between people without going to court," she tried to explain in the most accessible terms possible for a twelve year old.

"So what kind of lawyer are you?"

Michonne paused and tried to suppress a bashful grin, wondering why she'd tried to prove a point that she couldn't support herself.

"She's the kind of lawyer who argues," Andrea answered for her. "And she's really really good at it."

"Cool. I think that's what I want to do," Carl said looking at the women across from him and then at his dad who was sitting next to him.

"Well, you've got lots of time to figure that out. Just keep doing well in school, and we'll see what happens," his dad answered.

"Hey Shane, can we go fishing after this?" he asked moving on to the next topic. He loved holding court with the adults at the table, perhaps because he was an only child for so long until his sister came along, and was used to being the only kid at functions like these.

"Sure, buddy. I pulled the cane poles out and bought some new fishing line because I thought you might ask."

"You actually catch anything out there?" Andrea asked as she assessed the large pond.

"Rarely. We caught a catfish one time," Shane answered.

"You guys mind if I tag along? I grew up fishing with my dad, and I haven't done it in forever."

Michonne craned her neck around Shane to look at her friend sitting on the other side of him; her friend who despite growing up in a rural area outside of Atlanta eschewed almost all outdoor activities, preferring instead to sweat it out in the gym at a spin class or doing hot yoga.

"We've got four poles, so you're welcome to come along. You wanna come, too," he asked turning to Michonne who was slowly resuming her position in her seat.

"I'll sit this one out."

"So can we go now? I'm all done," Carl said motioning to his empty plate.

"Well hold on, now. You've got clean up duty first, bud," Shane said putting the brakes on his plans.

"Go ahead," Rick said. "I'll take care of it since we've only got a couple hours before we've gotta get you home."

"Then let's not waste any time," Shane said getting up along with Carl and Andrea leaving Rick, Michonne, and Judith alone at the table.

Rick busied himself collecting the plastic plates and utensils on his side of the table and looked up to catch Michonne following in suit.

"You don't have to do that. There's gotta be some kind of reward for kicking our asses," he deadpanned.

"Beating you Grimes boys was enough for me, so I don't really mind helping out."

She tossed the paper plates in the trash then went over to start working on the table that had all of the food laid out on it buffet style.

"Hey Judy, do you want to help us?" Michonne called out to the girl who was still sitting at the picnic table.

"Yes, please," she said as she jumped down from the bench and hurried over.

"Here you go," she said handing her the plastic bottles of condiments which she figured was safe enough. She grabbed a bowl of potato salad and another of coleslaw then snatched up a bag of buns between her fingers figuring Rick could handle the rest.

"OK, let's go," she said looking down at her helper.

Rick took a moment to watch them walk off together then collected the rest of the food and followed behind them up the stairs to the back porch and into the kitchen. When he arrived, he found Judith sitting on the counter swinging her legs and watching as Michonne transferred the salads into Tupperware containers.

"You two work fast," he said as he set the platters down and got to work packing up.

"Well who wants to spend all day cleaning? Just get it done, and go back to having fun, right?" she asked looking up at the little girl.

"Right," she echoed.

Rick grinned at his daughter's compliance, knowing that it was because she was enamored with the young, pretty woman who was neither of her parents.

"Think you can you counsel her on the benefits of eating all of her veggies and cleaning up after herself, too?"

"I don't think I have that kind of sway. Sorry."

"I had to try, right?"

She looked up and nodded with a shy smile agreeing with his effort before moving over to the sink to wash the bowls. He moved next to her to take over drying duties.

"So how long have you known Shane?"

"Since we were in grade school. Been best friends ever since. I'm surprised he didn't tell you that."

"It's never come up."

"Usually it's how he introduces me: This is Rick my best friend since second grade, and then he usually adds on some choice embarrassing stories."

"Like what?"

"If you don't know already, I'm not gonna go around advertising them."

"Damn. Sounds like I'm gonna have to do some digging."

"You'll be sorely disappointed. I promise."

"I'll be the judge of that."

"What about Andrea?"

"What about her?" Michonne asked, used to fielding all sorts of questions about her pretty blonde friend.

"How long have you two been friends?"

"Oh...um, we were in the same section our first year of law school, so...going on 15 years? God, we're getting old," she laughed when she thought about it.

"She's very, uh, protective of you."

"Yes, she is," Michonne agreed being well aware of her friend's bulldog tendencies. "I apologize if she said anything that offended you..."

"No, she didn't," he assured her. "She just looks out for you. Seems like a good friend."

"We're like sisters, honestly. It's probably similar with you and Shane," she said glancing at him while she passed over the last pan to be dried. She turned the water often and turned to lean against the counter.

"You could say that, yeah...Can I ask you something?"

"Sure."

"Why does he call you Mitch?"

Michonne huffed out a short laugh before answering finding it funny that this was a point of curiosity for him.

"We met at a football game, and he said Michonne didn't sound like the name of someone who went to football games, so he renamed me Mitch...and it's stuck, unfortunately."

"Hmm," was his only response as he walked across the kitchen to put the last pan away then dug into a paper bag that was setting on the counter, producing a container of cookies.

"We brought dessert, but I don't think we should have to wait for them since they'd rather fish, right?"

"Definitely not," Michonne answered with a grin.

He opened the container and held it in front of Michonne for first dibs, then his daughter who tried for two before she got shot down. He took one for himself and closed up the container then put it away before returning to the spot he had been standing in right next to her much to her surprise.

He looked down to find her looking up at him, and stared back for a moment. A nervous, closed-mouth smile formed on her face as she finished chewing and swallowed hard, her throat feeling dry all of a sudden.

"These are good," she said holding up the cookie in her hand.

"Publix," he answered unable to take credit for the store bought cookies.

"They're still good."

They chewed in silence for a few moments having lost the natural rhythm to the conversation they had before.

"You know, I really liked that song you picked out the other night. It's kinda been stuck in my head."

"Right?" she said looking up, pleasantly surprised by his admission. "It's one of those songs I forgot I knew, and then I was reminded how good it is."

"I thought you said you didn't know any country."

"I don't."

"That sounded pretty country to me."

"So I may have accidentally lied to you about that."

"Uh huh..."

"Not on purpose, but when I was going through my music the other day, I realized I may have a little more country influence than I thought...actually you would probably like some of it."

The suggestion came tumbling out of her mouth as it dawned on her, no filter at all.

"Let's hear it."

"OK...just give me a minute," she said as she took her phone out of her back pocket, pulled up her music, and began scrolling through looking for the perfect song. She felt him shift closer to her and glanced up to find him looking down at her playlists over her shoulder. She felt a flush in her cheeks and a nervous tension begin to grow in her body. She knew it was silly, but for some reason, something about this moment made her feel so exposed, like she may as well have been naked in that room. She found the song she was looking for, and felt her self relax a bit.

"The Civil Wars. You ever heard of them?" she asked looking up at him, still standing closely. He shook his head no, so she pressed play in response and first sounds of the blistering electric guitar came through.

I had me a girl

Who taught me those things

A young man should know

Down, down on my knees

I'd beg and I'd plead

To learn a little bit more

She stood there biting down on her lower lip in anticipation of his reaction, and he wasn't giving anything away as he quietly listened, his expression blank. She looked to the floor and noticed the toe of his right boot lightly tapping along to the beat, but that didn't mean anything one way or the other except that he had at least a little bit of rhythm. She wasn't sure why she cared so much what he thought, but she wanted him to like it.

I had me a boy

Who buttoned me down

Drew me a line

He, he washed me as clean

As a sinner could be

Showed me the light

Oh that boy, he taught me to pray

But for all of his spit-shinin' ways

Lord, he could

Oooooooo

Ooooooohhhhohhhh

Growing increasingly nervous and pessimistic with his lack of response, she pressed pause to end her torture, and, she assumed, his.

"What are doing?" he asked taking a step back, having been abruptly taken out of the moment.

"It seemed like you didn't like it, so I wasn't going to make you listen to the whole thing."

"I actually liked it very much. I was just taking it in."

"You don't have to be polite. You can just tell the truth. It's OK."

"I'm not bein' polite," he said with a chuckle as he walked over to pick up his daughter who looked like she was starting to fade fast in her spot on the counter. "But I have a feeling you won't believe me no matter what I say now, right?"

"Probably," she confessed.

"What was the name of the song?"

"I Had Me a Girl."

"The Civil Wars, right?"

"Right."

"You're two for two," he said with a wink as he walked towards the door to go into the backyard.

"Well if it isn't Fisherman Andrea," Michonne teased as her friend walked up and took a seat next to her on the steps of the back porch.

"Very funny. It's actually quite relaxing. You should try it sometime."

Michonne turned and glared at her friend. "You are so full of it."

Andrea began to laugh and leaned her head against her friend's shoulder.

"I know. I was actually on a little reconnaissance mission."

"Oh God, that's even worse."

"Don't worry. I was stealthy...and I think maybe I get it. I think."

"I'm not sure there's much to get beyond what I've already told you."

"He's not a bad guy."

"Who ever said he was?"

"I guess I did. I underestimated him, and I was wrong to do that. He's kind of sweet and funny when he's not trying too hard. You've got my blessing."

Michonne arched her eyebrow at that last part.

"I know you don't need it, but you've got it. You can talk to me about him, and I won't give you a hard time. Promise."

"Thanks."

Michonne looked out over the backyard, her eyes drawn to Rick, leaned back in a lounge chair with his daughter sacked out and sprawled across his chest and his son standing in front of him excitedly telling a story with lots of arm gestures. If she didn't know better, she'd think the kid had gone deep sea fishing and had a tussle with a shark or something from all outward appearances. She smiled to herself as she watched Rick, thinking about all of the ways he had surprised her today, and wondering what else there was to learn about him.

*The song featured in this chapter is I Had Me A Girl by The Civil Wars.

---

Chapter 4

---

"Hey."

Michonne looked to her left to see Rick sidling up to her at the bar, matching her stance by resting his forearms on the edge and leaning forward.

"Hey," she said as a smile spread across her face. "You made it." She was happy to see a familiar face, but especially so since it was his.

"Yeah, it took me a little longer to sign out to the next shift than I'd hoped, but better late than never, right?"

"Definitely."

"So how's the birthday boy doing?" Rick asked as he looked over his shoulder at the crowd behind him.

Michonne looked back, as well, to find Shane standing in the middle of his favorite bar surrounded by at least half of the King County's Sheriff department and assorted friends and neighbors whose introductions were now a blur. She didn't catch what he'd just said, but the end result was an outburst of laughter and several high fives being exchanged. They looked back at each other at the same time, pausing for a moment to exchange a knowing look, before breaking their gaze to stare at the back shelves behind the bar.

"He's good, I'd say," Rick assessed as he picked up the paper coaster in front of him and started fiddling with it.

"Yeah, he's doing just fine..."

He looked past Michonne to see the bartender at the far end of the bar, head down and busy with something that seemed to be taking a while.

"You havin' trouble getting a drink?"

"Not at all," she said nodding her head at the man who was now heading their way with a tray of two dozen shots of Maker's Mark. "Should I have him pour another for you?"

"I'm good."

"You sure? He's not gonna take no for an answer," she said tilting her head back at Shane.

"That'll be sixty, sweetheart," the bartender announced as he carefully placed the tray in front of her. She was pleasantly surprised by the price since this round would have easily cost double that at her neighborhood bar. The bartender looked up and noticed her acquaintance while she dug through her purse for her wallet.

"Well, hey, Rick!"

"Henry," he greeted with a nod.

"You with him?"

Michonne looked up, her mouth slightly parted, momentarily unsure of how to answer the question.

"Yeah, she's with us," Rick answered for her.

"In that case, make it forty and we're even."

She pulled three twenty dollar bills out of her wallet and laid them on the bar, unable to accept his deal because it was starting to feel like outright theft at this point.

"What'll it be tonight?" he asked Rick, pint glass already in hand. "I just put on a new keg of Terrapin Rye on this afternoon," he offered.

"Works for me," Rick said as he pulled out his wallet before turning to Michonne. "You want?"

"Yeah, I'll take one."

"Make that two," he called over to Henry while holding up his hand and extending two fingers to signal his request in case Henry hadn't heard him at his place in front of the taps.

"Would you put your damn wallet away?" Henry exclaimed as he set the pint glasses on the bar and reached down to wipe his hands on the bar towel tucked in the front pocket of his jeans.

"You know your money's no good here. This man saved my life," he tacked on for Michonne's benefit.

"That's stretchin' the truth."

"Call it what you want, but it's my bar and those are the rules. Drinks on the house."

"Well, thank you. I appreciate it."

Rick raised his glass to Henry in thanks then looked to his side to see Michonne starting to slide the tray off of the bar.

"You need help carrying that?"

She looked up giving a small grin of appreciation then shook her head as she balanced the tray on one arm and turned to grab her beer. They turned their backs to the bar, ready to return to the party, before Michonne slowed and turned to him.

"What did you do?"

"It was nothing. If you still care next time you see me, I'll tell you then."

"I won't forget," she promised just before she began to wade into the crowd of people.

Rick watched everyone readily part to make way for her as they reached for the drinks on the tray. She made her way into the center of the group, and was welcomed by Shane who promptly took the tray off of her hands and placed it on the table, handing her a shot then taking one for himself and wrapping his arm around her waist. He pulled her in close and whispered something in her ear, which caused her to hit his chest with her free hand and laugh. He kissed her cheek and whispered something else before raising his glass to thank his friends for coming. She raised her glass as well; looking at Shane, then out at the group, her eyes landing on Rick's who stood on the periphery. He gave her a nod then tilted his drink towards her causing her to return the gesture before looking away when she and Shane were approached by one of his fellow deputies. He watched as she set the shot down on the table instead of bringing it to her lips then picked up her beer instead, taking a sip while following along with the conversation.

"You hiding out?"

Her rich, smooth tone broke him out of his reverie, and he looked up to find her standing in front of his table with her half empty beer in hand.

"It's been a long day. I was just taking a little break."

"Well, I'll let you be then. You probably don't get too many of those."

"I get more than I used to, but, anyway...how's it going out there?"

"Well...everyone's very nice. Very drunk, but nice."

"Yeah, that's what usually happens with this group...you wanna sit?"

She accepted his offer and set her drink and purse on the table then smoothed down her simple, snug black sweater dress and slid into the horseshoe shaped booth next to him. His eyes were drawn to her toned long legs as she crossed them and settled in, he followed them down to mid-calf where they were interrupted by a pair of tan leather boots. They definitely weren't cowboy boots, but they weren't too far off in his opinion which made him smile to himself.

She took a sip of the now warm beer that Rick had gotten for her earlier in the evening. It was more of a useful accessory than anything at this point since having a drink in hand kept more from coming her way. They had a view of the entire bar from where they sat, and she observed the party for a moment before turning her attention to Rick, only now realizing how close she was seated next to him in the roomy booth.

"I'm missing my new favorite party girl tonight," she said breaking the silence.

"Yeah, she's home partying with her mother and brother."

"Shame. That reminds me, I still have that picture from last weekend," she said as she grabbed her phone from her purse and pulled up the picture, tilting it in his direction to see.

"She's a handful," he said shaking his head, unable to suppress his grin as he looked at the image of his toddler standing in Michonne's tall shoes, posing with her hands on her hips and a rascally smile.

"Here," she said handing him her phone. "Put in your number in so I can send it to you."

He took the phone from her hand and entered his number, then passed it back; watching as she tapped on the screen a few times then put the phone away. Within a few seconds, they both felt the vibration of the phone in his back pocket spread across their seat confirming that he'd received it.

"So..."

"So?" he questioned.

"How did you save Henry's life?"

"Seriously?"

"I went away for a little while, then I came back, and it's still on my mind...like I told you it would be."

"It's not that exciting," he said with a dismissive wave of his hand from where it rested on the table.

He leaned back in the booth, resting his head on the back of the seat and letting it turn all the way to his left to look at her.

"Yeah, saving lives happens like every day," she mocked in an almost valley girl accent which caught him off guard and caused him to huff a laugh out through his nose. She leaned back as well, mirroring his position with her head turned completely to her right, waiting for the story.

"Fine. So we were standing in our driveways talkin' one morning before I left for work, Henry's...was, my neighbor," he corrected, "and all of a sudden, he sort of doubled over and clutched his chest. So I yelled for his wife, packed them into my car, and drove them to the ER, lights on and all that, and sure enough, he was having a heart attack. We got him there in time so they were able to bring him right back to clear the blockage up. I didn't really do much."

"Well I've never done anything like that," she said challenging his modesty.

"You would if the occasion presented itself." She began to open her mouth to protest again, but he shut her down before she could get a word out. "You would."

She pursed her lips, keeping them sealed, and nodded. He barely knew her, nor she him, but he didn't strike her as someone who said things just to say them. In fact, because he chose his words so carefully and spoke at such a low volume, she found herself being drawn in closer so that she didn't miss anything, almost as if everything he said was a secret that she wanted to be let in on.

His phone buzzed again, startling them both with its interruption. Sorry he mumbled as he pulled it out of his back pocket to check his messages. She turned her head forward giving him privacy which was apparently unnecessary since he nudged her arm not too long after and moved his phone in front of her. She looked back down to see a picture of Carl and Judith, both asleep in their regular clothes and leaning on each other on a couch with a blanket thrown over them. She then noticed text at the bottom of the message which read We did good. Her eyes flicked to his left hand for a moment to confirm what she thought she already knew which was that he didn't wear a wedding ring.

"Aww, they're so sweet...that from your wife?"

"My ex-wife, yeah," he corrected without hesitation.

"How long has it been?"

The sensible part of her knew this wasn't really her business, but she couldn't quell the desire to learn more about him. He'd made little comments along the way without ever actually saying anything one way or the other, so she decided to interpret that as his way of leaving the door open for discussion.

"Coming up on a year now."

"Seems like you two are making it work..."

"We got out before we did too much damage," he answered causing her to furrow her brow slightly. He couldn't help but see her slight unease since they were practically face to face; he figured she was already starting to speculate about all manner of unsavory scenarios that end a relationship, so he went on. "We got married young and just kept growing further apart with every year. Luckily the one thing we've always been able to agree upon on is the kids."

She studied his face, open and honest as ever; she was impressed that he could talk about the end of a marriage in such simple, easy terms. It'd been almost six months since her relationship with Mike had ended in betrayal, and she was in a better place now, but if Rick asked her to talk about it tonight, she wasn't sure she'd be able to without at least a hint of anger or disgust.

"My first job out of law school, there was this senior partner at the firm, one of those guys who'd been married to the same woman for years, but only seemed to be keeping up appearances. The wife would be there for the client dinners and holiday parties then he'd be hitting on interns at happy hour the next day, and I always asked myself why? Like what's the point of staying together? So one night, when we were working late on a case, he caught wind of the fact that I had a new boyfriend, and he decided to rain on my parade and share his relationship advice with me, and he said, 'Michonne, the thing you love the most about someone at the beginning will be the thing you can't stand about them at the end. Just give it enough time.' And I dismissed him because I was young and idealistic, plus he seemed like a jaded old man to me who was never cut out for commitment anyway, but turns out the guy knew what he was talking about."

He looked at her, eyes squinting slightly as he thought about what she said. She could tell it wasn't connecting with him yet.

"Just think about it. How did you start and how did you end?"

For her, she thought about how confident, outgoing, intelligent, and suave Mike was which drew her in initially; yet it was his overly healthy ego that drove them apart at the end. She watched as Rick continued to mull over her question, his eyes finally flicking back up and meeting hers.

"Holds up, doesn't it?" she asked seeing the recognition flash across his face.

"A little too well, yeah."

A sudden eruption of cheers and laughter caused them to break eye contact and turn their attention to the party where about half of the guys were clustered around the pool table exchanging cues and racking the balls for a new game. Rick turned back towards Michonne first and studied her profile before she slowly turned back to him.

"Can I ask you something?"

"Sure."

"What's the thing you love about him?"

"Love?" she questioned while shaking her head at the suggestion.

"Like. What is it?" His eyes never left her, and that feeling she'd had the first night she met him began to take over again. There was something about the way he looked at her that made her feel as though there was no use in hiding the truth because he already knew.

"We have a good time together," she answered weakly, not breaking eye contact. She watched as he licked his lips and grunted softly in response. He dipped his chin for a moment and brought his hand up to his face, scratching at his beard before looking back up at her.

"I guess I'm just wondering why you're sitting back here with me at your boyfriend's birthday party..."

"He's not my boyfriend," she whispered adamantly.

"The guy you're here with then. Why aren't you with him right now?"

She began to feel heat rising within her as her breaths became heavier and she grew irritated with his line of questioning.

"What exactly are you trying imply, Rick?"

"I'm not trying to imply anything...Michonne, I'm asking myself the same thing. Why am I here instead of out there?"

"I don't know how to answer that."

She watched him for a moment and noticed his eyes trail down to her chest and then back up, stopping at her lips for a moment. She could feel her heart thumping so hard in her chest that she wondered if he could see it. The easiest way to end this would be to get up and walk away; just join Shane at the pool table and stop this right now, but for some reason, she couldn't do it. She couldn't answer the question, but she needed to see if he would.

He finally lifted his gaze from her lips to her eyes, and was overcome with the urge to lean in and kiss her; and although he was fairly inexperienced and certainly out of practice with these situations, the look on her face and the fact that she was still there made him think that she wanted him to. Since he couldn't kiss her out in the open, he satisfied the urge to connect with her by resting his hand on her thigh under the table, lightly at first as he gauged her reaction, before letting it sink into her, his fingertips coming to rest in the crevice made by her inner thighs coming together. They still had their heads resting on the back of the booth, completely facing each other, and he watched as she briefly looked down at his hand.

"Rick..." she whispered, as his fingers began to rub lightly back and forth over her skin causing to shut her eyes again as she tried to summon her resolve."What are you doing?"

"I don't know," he whispered back as he slid his hand up her thigh over her dress, his pinkie finger briefly grazing over her sensitive area heightening her growing arousal for a moment.

"Oh my God," she breathed out, instantly putting her hand atop his to stop him, unsure whether he'd done that on purpose or not. She closed her eyes and exhaled through her mouth, trying to regain her composure before she looked back at him. He stopped moving his hand and let it rest under hers as while he watched her waiting for a response.

"We can't do this...I don't…this isn't me," she said as she broke eye contact and straightened up, leaning forward and placing her head in her hands on the table while she steadied her breathing before picking up her purse and sliding out of the booth without another word.

He clenched his fist under the table and cursed himself for what he'd just done then watched as she walked over to Shane, smiling and rejoining the party as if nothing had happened.

"Where you been?" he asked as he wrapped his arms around her from behind and pulled her in to lean against him as they watched some of the guests at the pool table.

"I've been around," she answered vaguely before turning in his arms to face him. "Hey," she said with a devilish grin.

"Hey," he returned, already liking where this was going given the look on her face and the tone in her voice.

"You remember that birthday wish you made earlier?"

"Of course."

"How does now sound?"

"Don't tease me," he pleaded in a low voice.

"I'm not," she swore as she placed her hands on his cheeks and placed a kiss on his lips.

"Fuck," he whispered under his breath, amazed at his good fortune. "Where?"

"My car."

"Go," he said firmly. "I'll be right there."

He waited a minute before getting up to leave when someone tapped him on the shoulder from behind. He turned, annoyed with the delay, to see Rick.

"Man, where you been all night? I know this isn't your thing, but would it kill ya to try?" Shane asked.

"Hey, I covered that shift for you today," Rick answered as he pushed a finger into his chest for emphasis. "I'm beat. I was just coming over to let you know I'm headin' out. Happy Birthday."

"Thanks, man. Hey, I'm headin' out, too. I'll walk with you."

"You leavin' already?" Rick asked in confusion given that the party was still going with no signs of stopping soon.

"No, just gotta grab something from the car real quick."

They walked out of the bar and exchanged their good byes then Rick headed left and Shane headed right to Michonne's SUV, picking up his pace when he could make out her faint silhouette through the rear window.

"I thought you were coming right out," she snapped, unable to hide her slight irritation when he finally opened the door and crawled into the back seat with her.

"Sorry, Rick caught me on the way out," he said, wasting no time as he pushed her against the opposite door and hovered over her, placing a series of kisses on her neck.

Her irritation grew with his mention of Rick, so she closed her eyes and wrapped her arms around his upper back, tightening her grip and bringing him closer, hoping he could push that thought out of her mind completely.

His kisses made their way to her lips and she met them with fervor, deepening the kiss and lifting her pelvis up to his as her way of telling him that she was ready and ready now. He placed one hand under her head and let the other trail down her side down to the hem of her dress, then underneath until he found his way to her thong which he pushed aside with two fingers.

"God, you're so wet," he breathed into her mouth between kisses as his fingers stroked her.

She broke the kiss and buried her face in the crook of his neck as she hurriedly reached between them to unbuckle his belt and unzip his pants. She took him in her hand and raised her hips to his again, guiding him into her. She quickly began bucking her hips up to meet his, completely out of sync with his first few slow, steady thrusts.

He pressed his thumb into her right hip bone where it rested to slow her movements and lifted his head to look at her.

"Easy now," he said with a chuckle. "This ain't a fight. We're on the same team."

He kept his eyes on her as he started slowly again, reestablishing a new rhythm. She allowed him take the lead and relaxed, letting her body sink into the seat while he picked up intensity eventually bringing them to their release before collapsing onto her chest, sweaty and breathing heavily. He nuzzled his face into her neck and kissed it lightly.

"You make me so happy," he whispered in between kisses.

"Happy Birthday," she whispered back as she stared at the roof of her car, her hand mindlessly moving in circles on his back.

---

Chapter 5

---

Monday, November 14, 8:18 AM

Hey Mitch, it's me. Was tryin' to catch you before work. Hope you're havin' a good morning. Give me a holler later on if you get a chance.

"I know we're friends and all, but I promise you, one day you're going to get off that elevator and come in to find Trevor sitting in front of my office instead of yours."

Michonne looked up from her work and silently glared at her friend who was leaning against the door frame of the entrance to her office. Andrea had been quite vocal about her desire to steal Michonne's competent, courteous, and adorable new administrative assistant of three months, however, Michonne didn't seem to find the humor in it this morning.

"Just kidding...so...how was the rest of your weekend?"

"Fine."

"What did you do?" Andrea asked trying to coax more than a one word response out of her. Michonne put down her pen, sighed, and gave her friend her full attention.

"I went to Shane's birthday party Saturday night then I came back Sunday morning and just laid low," she answered as she picked up her pen again thinking the question had been answered in sufficient detail.

"And did you have a good time?"

"Andrea," she said with exasperation as she set her pen back down and clasped her hands in front of her on her desk, trying to summon her patience.

"These are standard questions friends ask friends! I wasn't there so you can tell me whatever you want if you're in such a hurry to get rid of me. You could be like, Oh it was great, we had chocolate cake or I met his aunt or There were strippers or-"

"What the hell did they put in your coffee this morning?" Michonne asked before throwing a hand up to stop her. "Don't answer that, just close the door. Sit," she instructed as she brought her hand to her forehead to massage her temples while leaning back in her chair. The weekend's events had been playing on a loop in her mind, and she hoped that sharing them would alleviate her of some of the guilt she was feeling.

Andrea did as told and settled into one of the chairs in front of Michonne's desk, stretching her legs out in front of her and folding her hands across her belly, ready to listen.

"I think I'm gonna end things with Shane."

"Why?"

"Because this was supposed to be fun, and I'm not having fun anymore," Michonne stated completely objectively. While this was essentially true, she found herself unable to elaborate beyond that to tell the whole truth behind her sudden need to move on.

"Right. Fun things should be fun..." Andrea repeated slowly, trying to decipher her friend's code.

"Did something happen?"

"No. I just don't want to do this anymore."

"And you realized this when?"

"I don't know. Sometime this weekend?"

"Hmm..." Andrea had dropped any hint of teasing and seemed to be seriously contemplating the demise of the 'relationship,' which just last weekend she had been questioning the point of. "I'm actually kind of surprised. I thought I saw a little something at the barbecue last weekend. I mean, you weren't attached at the hip, but that's not really your vibe anyway...are you OK?" she asked sincerely looking up at her friend.

"Yeah, of course I am," Michonne reassured her.

"Sorry," she said with a slight frown.

"It's fine, I'm fine. I swear," she said with a forced smile.

"OK, well if you're not," she said as she stood from her chair and pointed to her right, "you know where to find me."

"I know."

Michonne watched as she walked to her office door, turning back to ask if she wanted the door open or closed. She opted for closed then straightened up in her chair and surveyed the files spread across her desk as she tried to decide which project to tackle first. Her eyes landed upon her cell which showed one missed call and voicemail from Shane. She flipped it over, screen side down on her desk, then opted to check her e-mail one more time, delaying the start of her day for at least a few more minutes.

Monday, November 14, 3:46 PM

Mitch. It's me again. Was hopin' to have heard from you by now. Just...uh...yeah, just call me when you can.

Rick walked out of the gas station with a bottle of Diet Coke in hand; he looked ahead to the patrol car which was unoccupied, and then to his right where he spotted his partner. He squinted and lifted his free hand to shield his eyes from the late afternoon sun as he observed Shane pacing back and forth, one finger pressed against his left ear and the other holding his cell phone to his right ear. He dropped the phone to his side, then ran a hand over his closely shaved head and turned around, making eye contact with Rick as he walked toward him, clearly agitated about something.

"Everything OK?" Rick asked.

"Yeah...shitty reception out here," Shane said shaking his fist with phone in hand before slipping it into the oversized front pocket of his uniform shirt.

Rick watched as he walked ahead of him, making his way to the passenger side door, and getting in without waiting. Rick climbed into the driver's side and looked at him once more before buckling his seat belt and slipping the key in the ignition. He cracked the windows, letting the cool November air seep into the car then took a swig of his soda before placing it in the cup-holder and putting the car in drive. They pulled out of the gas station and onto the two lane highway that ran through a stretch of barren fields before Shane finally spoke.

"I can't get a hold of Mitch," he said looking out the side window. Rick glanced over at him then returned his eyes to the road.

"Is that unusual?"

"Yeah. I haven't heard from her since yesterday morning when she left town. She'll usually at least send a text."

"You know if she's in court today or something? May be hard for her to get to her phone."

"When she left yesterday she mentioned having a lot of work to do."

"Well, there you go," Rick surmised, glancing at his friend again who still had an uneasy look on his face.

"Yeah, I hope that's it and not something else."

Rick bit the inside of his cheek, trying to hold back an outward reaction to the last part of that sentence. He was never one to be presumptuous, the other night notwithstanding, and he hoped that he was wrong for his friend's sake, but he couldn't help thinking that his actions may be the reason she'd gone incommunicado.

"Sounds like she's a busy lady. Just give her some time," Rick continued, conflicted as to whether he actually wanted this to be the case.

"Nah, I may have fucked up, man," Shane said soberly as he turned to face his partner, shifting his body to lean partly against the door.

Rick couldn't hide his surprise, widening his eyes at the statement as he drove.

"What makes you say that?"

"'Cause I've been in her position enough times to see what's going on."

Rick glanced at him again with his brow furrowed; curious, but apprehensive about what he was about to say.

"You know that part towards the beginning where things feel almost perfect? Where it's nothin' but fun, the sex is amazing and nonstop, there's no drama, no expectations. And then someone gets the wrong idea about what it means and where it's going. They say shit like I think I'm fallin for you or I wish we could stay like this forever or whatever, and it's like someone threw a bucket of cold water on you. You just snap out of it. It's done."

Rick's face remained pinched as he listened to Shane speak.

"Yeah, you're lookin' at me like you don't know what I'm talking about. Of course you don't. Only time that probably ever happened to you, you went and married the girl. Who was the one to say it? You or Lori?"

"I don't really remember. Lori, I think?" Rick sputtered. His mouth felt dry as cotton and he could feel his stomach turn as the irony of it all set in. He reached for the soda to alleviate his thirst and give him something to do so that his face didn't give him away.

"Yeah...well, I was stupid. I was that chick in this situation. Should have known better."

"What did you say?"

"Told her she made me happy. Ran her right off," Shane said as made a fist and then released it as he spoke.

"You don't know that."

"You got a lot to learn, buddy," he said as he chuckled dryly at his friend's perceived naivete. He squared back up in the seat and pulled the visor down before reclining slightly, looking back out the window as they drove to the station.

Michonne sat on her couch, clicking the channel up button on her remote repeatedly as she scrolled through station after station finding nothing capable of distracting her to the extent she needed. She turned the TV off and slid her body down the length of the couch, coming to lay on her side then pulled the throw blanket off the back of the armrest, and curled up, tucking her knees towards her belly. At this late hour, she knew she was risking falling asleep on the couch by doing this, but she didn't care to move. She stared out the large window in front of her, looking into the dark night sky from her place above Midtown, and began to drift in and out of sleep, her eyes slowly closing then snapping back open intermittently as she tried to fight it for some reason.

The soft ringtone on her phone roused her out of a light sleep on one of those occasions causing her to look to the place where it sat on the coffee table with Shane's name illuminated on the display. She watched as it rang for a few more seconds, before going silent and marking it as a missed call. She closed her eyes again, but reopened them a few seconds later when phone sounded once more, alerting her to a voicemail. She stared at the phone for a minute, wanting to leave it in its place, but the guilt of continuing to ignore him finally overtook her. She reached for the phone and pulled herself up to a seated position in the corner of her couch then sighed as she unlocked it, and accessed the message.

Monday, November 14, 11:15 PM

Hi Michonne. It's me again. I get you don't wanna talk, but I'm just worried about you now. If you could, just send me a text or something to let me know you're OK.

She deleted the message and pressed her forehead into the heal of her palm. She really wished he'd turned out to be an asshole like Andrea first suspected or that he'd already dropped her to move on to some new flavor of the month instead of continuing to surprise her with his kindness and vulnerability. She took a deep breath and hit his name on her missed call list knowing she couldn't put this off any longer.

"Hey." He picked up on the second ring, his voice sounding tired and subdued.

"Hey. What are you up to?"

"Just sittin' on my porch, drinkin' a beer. How 'bout you?"

"Nothing. Just sitting on my couch."

"Rough day?"

"Yeah, it's been really bu-"

She started to make an excuse for not answering his calls, but didn't have the heart to lie to him even if it may have been the kinder thing to do.

"Not more so than usual. I'm sorry I didn't return your calls."

"No need to be sorry. I just got a little worried once it got late."

"I appreciate that...hey, what are you doing tomorrow?"

"Just working."

"We should meet up so we can talk."

She heard him begin to chuckle on the other end in response to her suggestion.

"What?"

"I know you're tryin' to do the polite thing, but I'd rather save us both the trouble."

"Shane..."

"I'm serious. I know what's comin'. Go for it."

She paused for a moment and swallowed. If she was about to let him down then she could at least do it on his terms.

"I don't think we should see each other anymore."

There was silence on his part as she waited a moment to see if he'd respond. When he didn't, she continued to give him an explanation even though he probably didn't need the one she was willing to give him.

"I think you're great, and we've had a lot of fun together, but it's just..."

"I got it."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be. You know how many women would be cheering you on for turning the tables on me?" he tried to joke.

She didn't know how to respond to his self-deprecation which only made her feel guiltier. She could only imagine the bad karma he'd accrued from his dalliances with women over the years, but the fact was that he'd done nothing to her, so it wasn't her revenge to dole out, particularly not after her interactions with his best friend.

"You're a great girl, and I wish it could have turned out different. It's my loss, but I wish you the best."

"Same here."

"If you ever find yourself out in my neck of the woods, don't be a stranger."

"OK...take care, Shane."

"You too, darlin'," he said before ending the call on her.

She let the phone fall into her lap and released a shaky breath that she felt like she'd been holding throughout their entire conversation. Tears began to sting her eyes unexpectedly, and she reached her thumb up to swipe at the inner corners of her eyes as an attempt to disrupt them before they could fall down her face. She had been feeling awful since Saturday night, but with that call she was putting an end to it, leaving both men and the complications that were bound to occur, in the past and far away from her.

Rick laid in his bed, one arm bent above his head resting on the pillow and the other laying across his bare torso. He'd been wide awake, staring at the ceiling, since he got into bed a few hours earlier. He was restless and had tried everything he could to fix it; he got up for a glass of water, then went to the bathroom, closed all the windows since the pleasant chill had turned too cold, bundled up in his blanket, then shed the blanket when he got too warm. Eventually he laid there with nothing else to blame for his insomnia other that his thoughts. He grabbed his phone from the nightstand, seeing that it was 12:17 then rubbed his eyes with the fingers of his free hand and groaned, knowing how tired he would be when his alarm sounded in just less than five hours. He unlocked the phone and went to his recent messages, scrolling down the list of familiar names until he came to an unmarked number starting with a 404 area code. He stared at it for a moment, his thumb hovering over the number before he thought better of it and tossed the phone back on the night stand then rolled onto his opposite side and forced his eyes shut.

---

Chapter 6

---

"Oh, come on," Michonne groaned to herself between breaths as a smile spread across her face.

She was just coming to the end of her third loop around Piedmont Park when a song she hadn't heard in forever came through the ear buds making it impossible to end her run like she had planned. She'd already run through her standard playlist and was now at the mercy of the random shuffle of her entire library and, unfortunately for her increasingly tired legs, it was on point this morning.

Oh darling, it's so sweet, you think you know how crazy

How crazy I am

You say you don't spook easy, you won't go, but I know

And I pray that you will

Fast as you can, baby run free yourself of me

Fast as you can

At the song's behest, she picked up her pace and continued running out of the park until she reached Peachtree Street where she headed south instead of going home. She felt better than she had in a long time this Sunday morning as she ran down the relatively quiet street in her black running tights and purple jacket; she wasn't sure whether it was the endorphins, the cold December air, the fact that she'd been sleeping in her own bed and back to her routine for the past month, or that she didn't have to go into work tomorrow since she was off for the holidays for the next week. It was probably a combination of all of those factors, but whatever the reason, she was content as she ran through downtown taking in the holiday decorations. It was hardly a winter wonderland, but the lights woven through the trees and around the streetlights were enough to get her into the holiday spirit.

She eventually turned off of the long stretch of street she'd been running down and made her way to Centennial Park, figuring this was as good a turning point as any since she wasn't sure how much farther she could go no matter how good she felt. She found her way over to a water fountain, stopping for some much needed hydration, then moved over to the empty bench adjacent to it to stretch her legs. She propped one leg on top and bent at the waist, straightening out the leg until she could feel the stretch in her hamstring. She dropped her chin to her chest and closed her eyes, sinking into the stretch with her music still blaring, and held it for a while before switching out legs and repeating. Once she felt loose enough to make the two mile jog back to her place, she straightened up and opened her eyes, startled to find someone standing in front of her.

"Shit," she gasped as she clutched her hand to her chest then yanked at the wire of her headphones to remove them from her ears. She stared at the young blue eyed, brown haired boy who was staring at her with a confused look on his face. It was a familiar face, but it took a few seconds before recognition set in.

"Carl?"

"Yeah. I thought that was you," he answered with a smile.

She looked around the park, seeing only a few people milling about this late Sunday morning, none of whom she recognized.

"What are you doing here?" she asked, utterly confused by this child who'd seemed to materialize out of nowhere.

"We were at the aquarium," he said pointing back at the building that sat on the park. "What are you doing here?"

"I live here. I was just on a run."

Carl looked around the urban landscape, his face wrinkled in confusion since it didn't look like the type of neighborhood someone lived in according to his experience.

"Where's your house?"

"Oh, I don't have a house. I live in an apartment in a building kind of like that," she said pointing to one of the high rises in the area.

Carl's head followed the building to the top and a look of awe began to spread across his face. Michonne took another quick glance around, anxious to see who the "we" he was there with was comprised of.

"Do you live that high up?"

"Um...I'm on the 14th floor, so pretty high," she guessed unsure of what would qualify as high to a twelve year old boy.

She watched as he turned his attention to the building she'd used as an example, and started counting the stories, whispering the numbers in succession as his eyes traveled from the ground floor upward. She smiled at his investigation then looked up again to catch Rick coming into view as he rounded the corner of the aquarium with Judith in tow. He stopped and squinted his eyes, one hand holding Judith's and the other on his hip as he scanned the area in front of him, obviously looking for Carl. She shook her head at the sight of him in a dark green quarter zip sweater with a hint of his plaid collared shirt sticking out, jeans, and boots. If she didn't know better, she'd think he was a model straight out of a winter L.L. Bean catalog versus a middle-aged sheriff's deputy and father of two. Michonne had always dated handsome men; men who knew they were and worked hard on their appearance. With Rick, however, she didn't get the impression he had a clue as to how good looking he was nor cared which only made him that much more attractive much to her dismay. She took a deep breath and exhaled slowly as she realized an encounter would be inevitable at this point since he didn't seem to be able to spot Carl from where he was standing.

"Rick," she called out raising an arm in the air to catch his attention.

He moved his head in the direction of the sound and stopped at the sight of her, his eyes still squinted and face with a blank expression. She slowly dropped her arm and gave the slightest closed mouth grin which came off more as an apology for being there than a greeting. He gave her a nod and began walking towards them; but she returned her attention to Carl in order to avoid the awkwardness of maintaining eye contact as he walked over. Her conversation partner, however, had other plans and called out to his father once he realized he was a few feet away.

"Dad! Did you know that Mitch lives in one of those tall buildings?"

"No, Son. I didn't know that," he answered as he took his final steps up to them. Once he stopped, he looked over at Michonne, face still pinched and expressionless.

"Hey."

"Hey," she answered in the same even tone.

"How far can you see from up there?" Carl asked Michonne.

She dragged her eyes away from Rick's and looked down at the boy.

"Uh...I don't know. Pretty far on a clear day, I guess."

"Can you see my house from there?"

"Oh, not that far," she answered honestly before realizing she was probably dashing his hopes, "but then again, I'm not sure what your house looks like, so maybe I can and I just never realized it."

"Can I come look?"

"Carl, it's not polite to invite yourself over to someone's house," Rick interrupted.

"Sorry," he said looking at his father then Michonne, using one apology for both offenses.

"It's OK. I know you were just excited," Michonne said feeling bad for him. "You're welcome to come take a look for yourself some time."

Carl's face lit up and he immediately turned his father who already knew what was coming.

"Carl, she's probably very busy, so maybe another day. Plus we need to get lunch and get you home at a decent hour."

"But we're on vacation, I don't have an early bedtime tonight," he retorted before turning to Michonne. "Are you busy today?"

"No..." she said before she realized she'd probably complicated matters since Rick seemed resistant, "but it's really up to your dad. What he says goes."

"Dad, please?"

Rick looked at Michonne, tilted his head, and cocked an eyebrow. The faintest grin appeared on his face, and not knowing how to interpret it, she gave a quick shrug and mouthed sorry.

"This really OK with you?" he asked.

"If it is with you, sure."

He nodded and looked at his son and then his daughter who was uncharacteristically quiet, bundled up in a small puffy jacket that kept her arms from being able to rest completely against her sides with the hood pulled up and cinched so tightly that only her blue eyes and little pink tipped nose peeked out.

"Well, we need to get some food in our bellies first, and then we can go for just a little bit, OK?"

"OK," Carl agreed with a smile.

"Can we buy you lunch and give you a ride home? You've got to be freezing," he said noting her lack of layers and that she'd taken to crossing her arms and rubbing her upper arms over the course of their conversation.

"That'd be nice, sure. I didn't realize how cold it was until I stopped running."

"Any place you recommend?"

"There's a place at the bottom of my building that has sandwiches, soup, sweets...hot chocolate," she added turning to Judith hoping the little girl would share her excitement about that last item. She had no idea if she could even hear her with her hood, but she at least managed to garner a smile.

"That'll work for us. Let's go," Rick said as he motioned towards the garage that held his truck.

Michonne unlocked her door, and stepped to the side allowing Carl and Judith to enter first. The boy's eyes were immediately drawn to the floor to ceiling window that ran the length of her living area. He ran over immediately to get his first glimpse of the view with Judith naturally tagging along, pressing her hands and nose against the glass once she arrived at the window.

"Oh my gosh," Carl in awe of his vantage point above Atlanta.

"Oh my gosh," Judith echoed since it seemed like the thing to do.

Rick looked down and grinned at Michonne from his place in the open doorway, she grinned back and watched as he entered the house and stood waiting for her. She let the door close and walked straight into the small, but well-appointed galley kitchen to place the bag she was carrying on the counter. Rick followed and placed the bag and drink tray he was carrying down, as well.

"So this is my place," she said waving her hand over the modest sized open area that encompassed her kitchen, living room, and a small dining nook. "I'm gonna change out of these sweaty clothes quickly. Make yourselves at home. Feel free to start eating."

"OK," Rick said as he watched her turn and head down the hallway.

He looked at his children, still occupying themselves in front of the window, then at the surroundings. Her apartment was clean and modern with polished concrete floors and pillars, but not lacking warmth thanks to the constant flood of sunlight and simple neutral furnishings. He entered the hallway, stopping at a painting that hung on the wall. It was an abstract design with shades black, white, and grey running throughout.

The sound of her bedroom door opening caught his attention and he looked to away from the painting to see her emerge barefoot in jeans and a navy blue sweater. Her eyes caught his and she froze in place for a moment unsure of where they stood or what to say since it was just the two of them in this hall, alone for the first time since she'd seen him last.

"Can we talk for a minute?" he asked breaking the silence.

She nodded and stayed in place with her hand on the door knob while he walked up to her; pausing for a moment in front of her before stepping past her and into the bedroom. She turned and followed him, her hand dragging the door to the point where it was slightly ajar, before letting go and coming within an arm's length of him. She watched as he took a deep breath before speaking.

"I owe you an apology."

She began to shake her head no, but he held up a hand to stop her.

"I do. I'm sorry for what I did that night. I never should have put you in that position. It wasn't fair to you."

"It wasn't all on you, Rick. I was there. I was just as responsible for what happened."

"I like you, Michonne," he said with a sigh as he took a small step toward her, shaking his head at the admission as if it had just been betrayed by his heart.

"We barely know each other...we've talked, what, maybe three or four times? It's not worth it. He's like your brother, you said so yourself."

Rick rocked back and looked at the floor, feeling slightly ashamed of his admission in light of her response.

"I like you, too," Michonne said softly causing him to look back up at her. "But when I put myself in your shoes, if that was Andrea instead of Shane? I just couldn't do it. There'd never be a good enough reason."

"You're a good person."

"So are you."

"Obviously not," he said with a grim laugh.

"You are. We stopped it before anything happened."

Rick stared back and nodded, knowing that she had made the right decision for them, but feeling disappointed nonetheless.

"How is he?" she asked after a pause.

"He's fine. Getting back to his normal self. He introduced me to a new girl he's dating the other night. Someone we went to high school with, recently divorced. It's a small pond out there."

"Good."

"I didn't mean to make you feel bad, I was just trying-"

"No," she said holding up a hand to stop him. "Trust me, it doesn't make me feel bad. I'm relieved; happy for him."

"Did you break up with him because of what happened that night?" Rick asked without thinking. It'd been on his mind for the last month, and figured it was worth asking before the moment passed him by so that he could get the closure he needed.

"It was part of it. It had also just run its course," she answered candidly for the first time. No one else had heard that truth except for him now.

"You OK?" he asked.

"Yeah. You?"

"Yeah."

They lingered for a moment, waiting to see if the other had anything else to say, and unsure of what the protocol was for ending something that never really was.

"We should go eat." Michonne finally said quietly. He opened his mouth to agree and the faintest yeah sounded from him.

They walked out of the bedroom and down the short hall to the living area before Michonne turned into the kitchen to gather their food with Rick following. Sensing their return, Carl turned back from his spot at the window.

"Hey Mitch, do you have binoculars?"

She and Rick exchanged a quick look and smile before she answered.

"Afraid not. Sorry."

"Dad, next time we come over, we should bring your binoculars."

"Maybe," Rick said even though he knew there wouldn't be another time.

They grabbed the food and Michonne led him to the coffee table where she plopped the bags down and knelt at the long end of the rectangular table, and started to dole out the food. She caught Rick looking at her from the opposite end of the table as he unloaded his bag, a small smile on his face.

"Clearly I keep it very formal in my house," she joked from her spot on the floor.

She placed Carl's food to the spot on her right which was square in front of the window so as not to take him away from the view completely. She reached back to the couch and grabbed two throw pillows and stacked them in front of Judith's spot to her left to give her the height she'd need to reach the table.

"All right guys, time to eat," Rick called over.

The kids came over and took their spots, immediately digging into their sandwiches. The sounds of chewing took the place of conversation for a few minutes which was fine with Michonne since she was so hungry after her extended run that morning. Judith got up from her makeshift seat and walked over to Michonne, handing her the bag of apple slices that came with her meal. She swallowed her bite then looked up at the little girl.

"Those are yours, Judith. You should eat them," Michonne said.

"No. Can you open, please?"

"Oh," Michonne said shaking her head at the way she'd misread the little girl's intentions. "Of course I can."

She took the bag in her hands and opened them before passing them back. Judith took the first slice out of the bag and offered it to Michonne which she accepted. She set her bag of apples down next to Michonne then took a few steps to get her sandwich before coming back to stand next to her as she continued eating.

"So you guys never told me how the aquarium was today."

"It was awesome," Carl stated unequivocally.

"Yeah? What was your favorite part?" she asked.

"I don't know if it was my favorite part, but the weirdest thing I saw was a chocolate chip sea star."

"A chocolate chip sea star?" Michonne asked incredulously. "I think you're making things up."

"No, I swear! It looks exactly like a chocolate chip pancake, but in the shape of a star. Dad, tell her!"

"It's true," Rick said with a grin from the other end of the coffee table.

"And what about you, Miss Judes?" Michonne asked looking up at the little girl standing next to her munching on her apple slices. "What was your favorite thing?"

"Umm...dolphins," she exclaimed after careful consideration.

"Judith, what does the dolphin say?" Carl asked looking over at his father with a grin.

"Eee eee eee," she squeaked causing everyone at the table to laugh much to her delight.

"What about the grouper fish?" Rick asked.

She puckered her lips and smacked them together in response before she started laughing at herself.

"What about the sharks? What do sharks say, Judith?" Carl asked with a smirk.

"That's not nice, Carl," Michonne shot back with a grin. The little girl looked at Michonne, stumped by the trick question. Michonne raised her index finger in front of her lips to signal silence and Judith mimicked her then looked at her brother.

"That's cheating," Carl said.

"She's right, though," Rick pointed out.

"OK, fine. What does an octopus say? And no one can help her!" Carl added looking at his father and Michonne.

Michonne bit her lip and looked to Judith expectantly, waiting to see how she would respond. The little girl stretched her arms out to her sides them began to wave them as she twisted at her waist, too, making no sound. The table burst out into laughter at her answer to Carl's second trick question.

"Yes! High fives, Judes," Michonne said holding both hands up in front of her. She returned the high five then buried her head in Michonne's shoulder in a rare moment of embarrassment, unsure of whether they were laughing at her or with her.

"No, that was so smart! You got your big brother on that one," Michonne assured her, wrapping an arm around her to bring her in for a quick hug. Michonne released her then looked to Rick, smiling and shaking her head in amazement at his incredibly cute kids.

They finished lunch at a leisurely pace continuing to talk about their day at the aquarium, what they hoped Santa would bring for Christmas next week, and what they were going to do during vacation. Judith stayed glued to Michonne's side helping her clear the mess from lunch then settling onto the couch with her, sharing a cookie that had come with lunch and talking about all manner of random things that popped into her mind while Carl returned to the window with Rick by his side this time pointing out the landmarks he could identify.

Once sun began to set, Rick announced that it was past time to get home since their mother would be expecting them soon. They put on their shoes and jackets and gathered by the front door to say their good byes to Michonne.

"Thank you for having us over today. I'm really happy we ran into you. This was fun," Carl said taking her off guard by wrapping his arms around her waist for a hug. She wrapped her arms around his upper back in return.

"No, thank you for coming over. And thank you for lunch. I had a good time, too," she said patting his back as she stepped back and smiled at him before looking up to Rick who had Judith propped on his left hip.

"You wanna say good bye to Miss Michonne?" Rick asked his daughter.

She turned out at the waist and opened her arms for a hug, so Michonne stepped in close to Rick, passing her arm through the space between his chest and his daughter's body to give her a tight squeeze.

"Mmm, good bye Miss Judes. It was good to see you again."

"Good bye, Miss 'Chonne," she replied.

Michonne removed her arms from around the child and looked up before stepping away to find his eyes fixed on her. She gave him a sad grin, and exhaled through her nose. His gaze didn't waver and she dropped her eyes to his lips before looking back up at him. Without a word, he bent down and pressed a kiss to her cheek before pulling back, his eyes never leaving her face. She looked down to the ground, letting out a quick, nearly imperceptible nervous laugh before looking back up to meet the gaze that she couldn't seem to escape from.

"Bye, Michonne."

"Bye, Rick," she managed to get out.

She opened the door for them, and watched as they walked down the hall to the elevator before closing the door behind her, shutting her eyes, and taking a deep breath to collect herself.

Michonne dumped the still warm basket of laundry on her couch and picked up the first shirt, folding the arms in, and then in half before resting it on the coffee table and moving onto the next one. She stared mindlessly out the window at the night sky as she continued the chore, trying to convince herself that whatever she was feeling now was just temporary, and that she would wake up clear headed and happy tomorrow just as she had today.

As she stared ahead, she squinted her eyes as she noticed a blurry spot in her vision. She blinked twice then wiped her eyes, and when it didn't clear, she realized that it wasn't her at all, but something on the window. She dropped the folded shirt in her hand onto the pile and walked forward to take a closer look. She began to chuckle to herself when she got close enough to realize what she was looking at: two matching sets of five small smudges with a round central smudge about three feet from the ground with another set of smudges a couple feet up on the right. The Grimes children had left their mark on her window earlier that afternoon. A smile spread across her face and she instinctively reached for her phone laying on the end table and accessed the camera. She aimed it at window, unsure if it could even capture the image, but it did; two set of prints set against the midnight blue background. She snapped the image and looked at it, feeling the urge to share it with its rightful owner. She could think of a million reasons not to, but she decided to do it anyway, finding the last message she'd sent him and attaching the new image with a message: I had to share this. I hope that's OK.

She hit send and stood there looking at the image, a quick chill running down her body, her nerves getting the best of her as she second guessed her decision to contact him. She looked up to the ceiling and took a deep breath, then felt her phone vibrate in her hand. She looked down to see his response.

I can't do this.

She cursed under her breath and replied.

You're right. I'm sorry.

*The song featured in this chapter is Fast As You Can by Fiona Apple.

---

Chapter 7

---

He pulled into the driveway of the one story white, wood slat house, and turned off the ignition, sitting there for a moment looking at it all aglow with Christmas lights he'd put up a few weeks earlier for the kids' sakes. It was hard to believe that just the one year of not living there had been enough to erase the sense of home he'd spent thirteen years establishing at that house. He got out of the car, and walked around the trunk to pull out a bag of toys, then made his way up the driveway and to the side door under the carport. He gave a soft courtesy knock before twisting the handle of the unlocked door and peeking his head in.

"Coast clear?" he whispered to the thin brunette standing in the kitchen.

"Yeah, you're good. They've been out for about an hour."

He walked into the house and gently shut the door behind him, locking the bottom lock and then the deadbolt above it. He turned to find Lori had made her way over to him to take the bag out of his hands.

"I just made a fresh pot of coffee. Figured you could probably use a cup or two," she said with a smile as she turned to leave the kitchen.

"Thanks," he said as he walked over to the cabinet just the right of the sink and took out the oversized dark blue mug that used to be designated as his. He filled it almost to the brim and added a splash of the milk sitting out on the counter before returning it to the fridge and making his way down the hallway to his old bedroom. He walked in to find Lori kneeling on the antique rug that sat at the foot of the bed, two large piles of gifts and wrapping supplies surrounding her, and quietly closed the door behind him. Ever since Carl was old enough to know better, they'd had the ritual of staying up until after he, and now Judith, fell asleep to wrap presents in their bedroom then arrange them under the tree to avoid any accidental findings.

"God, I thought we were gonna scale back this year," he said just barely above a whisper as he surveyed the piles. They'd spoiled them last year given it was the first Christmas since the divorce, and neither of them could think of a better way to assuage their guilt.

"I thought we had, but l guess we overshot. Next year?"

"Next year," he confirmed as he knelt across from her and set his mug beside him on the floor.

"How'd it go at your parents' today?"

"Oh, you know, same as every year. Too much food, not enough of Dad's spiked egg nog, and mandatory off key Christmas carols with Mom at the piano."

"Yeah, I don't miss that part. God bless that egg nog, though," he said with a grin as he reached for a roll of wrapping paper, scissors, and tape.

"Yes, God bless that egg nog, indeed," she repeated with a smile. "How was your shift today?"

"Quiet for the most part. Just a domestic disturbance and shoplifter at the liquor store."

"That's good."

They immersed themselves in wrapping, working in companionable silence, only speaking up every once in a while to ask about a present or to pass wrapping supplies over. She looked over at his pile of wrapped gifts, and smiled to herself. She could always tell his from hers because the first end he folded always ended up a little loose and messy looking while the other side would be folded perfectly crisp and clean since could turn it on its end to finish it. He'd wrapped his fair share of presents over the past twelve years, yet he'd never quite mastered it. They had always joked that if Carl inquired as to why his presents weren't uniformly wrapped, they'd chalk it up to some junior elf who was learning the ropes.

"Can I ask you something?" she asked after finishing a present and pushing it to the side.

"Sure."

"Who's Mitch?"

Rick looked up from the gift he was wrapping in a stunned silence.

"The kids were talking about her or him or whatever the other day, and I've just never heard of this person," she explained.

"Her. She's a friend."

"Oh..." she looked down and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, obviously made uncomfortable in some way by his reply.

"Not like that. I met her through Shane, she was seeing him for a little bit."

"But I heard Shane was dating Susie Clemons from high school."

"He is now."

"So you and the kids spent the day in Atlanta with Shane's ex-girlfriend? Am I hearing that right?" she asked trying to put the story together through Rick's clipped responses.

"That's where she lives. We ran into her downtown near the aquarium."

"That's interesting."

"Is it, though?" he asked as he turned his attention back to the gift in front of him. He was trying not to think of Michonne at all this week, and beyond that, one of the last people he'd want to discuss her with was his ex-wife.

"Yeah, I'd say so...The kids seem to like her."

"Because she's a nice person," he answered curtly even though there was nothing in Lori's tone to connote ill will or jealousy.

"Rick, I'm not trying to interrogate you. We're just talking. You're free to do whatever you want to do. So long as she's good to my babies, that's all I care about."

He sighed and looked up at her, feeling bad for his attitude. She had asked a simple question, and he was irritated because he didn't have a simple answer for it.

"You'd never have to worry about that with me," he assured her sincerely.

"I know." She watched as he went back to his task before speaking again, a strange feeling of sadness washing over her. "You know, I thought we'd finally gotten used to this, but something about one of us finally moving on makes it feel completely real now."

"Lori, I don't know where you're getting all of this from. She's a friend, if even that."

"It's just a feeling," she said wistfully.

Rick nodded, having nothing else to say, then finished wrapping the last present. They got up and silently began moving presents out to the living room and beneath the tree. While he placed the last ones down, and started rearranging them, she followed after him, placing a pillow and blanket on the couch. She turned to leave the room, but caught herself at the hall entrance.

"The kids left cookies and milk on the console table. Can you do the honors?" she asked over her shoulder.

"Of course."

"Good night."

"Night," he said from his crouched position in front of the tree.

After attending to the milk and cookies then getting ready for bed, he tossed the pillow to one end of the couch and shook out the blanket to open it up. He sat on the couch, then kicked his feet up and reclined with a groan as he eased his tired body into the cushions. He looked up at the grandfather clock at the opposite end of the living room that read 12:20 PM making it officially Christmas day. He shut his eyes, trying to will himself to sleep knowing that he'd get five hours in the best case, but couldn't. Part of it was probably from being beyond fatigued due to his long day, but his conversation with Lori certainly hadn't helped things. He reached for his cell on the coffee table and opened it up to the last exchange they'd had:

I can't do this.

You're right. I'm sorry.

That wasn't how he wanted to end things; in fact, he didn't want to end things at all, so he found himself reaching out to her.

Merry Christmas.

He watched his phone and saw a pending reply immediately making him wonder if she was lying awake right now just like he was.

Merry Christmas to you, too.

I need to see you.

I'm out of town.

Just tell me when.

Friday night.

I'll come to you.

OK.

"Hey."

Michonne answered her door to find Rick standing there in a grey t-shirt, fitting neither too tight nor too loose, and haphazardly tucked just so into the front of his jeans with his ever present boots on his feet and a tan jacket in hand. She was beginning to think she should to revise her previous theory that he wasn't aware of his looks because it made no sense to her how this man could be so unwittingly handsome and put together every time she saw him.

"Hey."

"Come on in," she said stepping aside to allow him to enter. She closed the door and quickly ran her palms over the front of her jeans before coming to stand in front of him. They stood in silence for a moment, looking each other up and down as they seemed to do each time they met up. "Can I get you something to drink?"

"A glass of water would be good. Please."

She nodded and moved into the kitchen, grabbing two glasses from the cabinet and filling them with cold water from the pitcher she kept in her fridge. She met back up with him in the small entryway and led him over to the couch, taking a seat on one end, while he took a seat on the other end. She looked down at the line created by the gap where the cushions met in the middle and made a mental note of it, wondering if it was a sign from above to place a visual reminder of the line they shouldn't cross between them.

He leaned back into the couch, lifting his right leg and folding it so that his ankle rested on his left knee then let his head turn to the left to look at her. She turned her body to face him, and tucked her legs under her, her right arm draped over the back of the sofa then took a sip of water and swallowed, waiting for him to take the lead in the conversation since he had reached out to her.

"How was your Christmas?" he asked quietly.

"Good. I drove my parents to Birmingham to spend it with my brother and his wife and kids. How was yours?"

"It was good. Spent the day with Lori and the kids, then took them over to my parents that evening."

"Did Judes get that play kitchen she was asking for?" Michonne asked with a slight grin, feeling the walls start to come down a little bit.

"Of course. I ate my weight in fake plastic food yesterday."

"What about Carl?"

"He got some new video games, so he was glued to the TV all day."

And with that line of conversation over, they found themselves at a pause again.

"I was surprised to hear from you," she finally said.

"I tried, Michonne. I did. And I know it would be easier if we didn't see each other, but I don't care."

"I'm glad you reached out to me," she said catching Rick by surprise as evidenced by the look on his face. "You've been on my mind this week."

"Same here."

She let her head drop back and brought her hands to the center of her face, dragging them down to her cheeks while she exhaled and shook her head, frustrated with the situation they found themselves in.

"God, this is such a fucking disaster on paper. We meet while I'm dating your best friend, it's long distance at that, and to top it off, your kids are already in the picture which is not the order it's supposed to go in...every single thing about this is wrong. This isn't how I do things."

"Yet here we are."

"Here we are," she agreed.

"You know I've been thinkin' about something you said..."

"What's that?"

"You said it's not worth it since we barely know each other...but what if it is?"

"Rick..."

"How long were you with Shane?"

"I don't know. A month, month and a half?"

"And you said he wasn't your boyfriend. No commitment or anything?"

"No. It was just supposed to be fun."

"So you're gonna let that stop you from seeing where this could go?"

"It's not even about that. He's your best friend."

"And that's my mess to deal with, not yours. Let's just get to know each other. There's nothing wrong with us talking to each other, right?"

His voice was soft and tender by the time he reached the end of his appeal, and his blue eyes were searching her face for answer. She dropped her head against her right arm where it rested on the back of the couch and sighed. She needed a moment to think and having him stare at her like that made it impossible. As a lawyer, she loved a good argument, and he had laid down a damn good one leading her right to a place where she couldn't say anything but yes. Fuck she cursed under her breath before raising her head and finding his eyes again.

"Right," she relented earning a small smile from him as he nodded his head, pleased that they were doing this.

"And if something comes of it, we'll deal with it then," he added to reassure her.

"If..." she repeated as she furrowed her brows. They both knew they were dealing with when, but she supposed they had to say if in order to maintain this guise of getting to know each other.

"I didn't wanna come off cocky," he said quietly out of the corner of his mouth with a smirk.

"Why change now?"

"Hey," he said reaching over to tap her knee.

"I'm kidding. A little bit. But you do have a...confident side."

"So do you, Miss Game Face."

"Oh, you have no idea. It doesn't just apply to corn-hole."

She instantly wished she could take that back, realizing how suggestive it sounded after the words left her mouth, but it was too late and not lost on Rick who arched an eyebrow at her.

"Moving right along...aside from Christmas, how was your week?"

"I worked every day except Christmas, so same old, same old. Nothing exciting."

"Do you like your job?" she asked given his unenthusiastic response.

"I do. I used to like it more when I started out, but the number of days where I feel like I'm just going through the motions is growing every year. One thing I do like, though, is being involved in the community where I'm raising my kids because I feel like I can be more proactive in looking out for their safety and well-being."

"You sound tired," she said with a small frown.

"I am. I haven't slept much the past two nights with the holidays and all."

"That's not what I meant, but you shouldn't have driven all the way out here if that's the case."

"This was important to me," he said with a shrug. "It's no big deal. I'll catch up on sleep this weekend. What did you mean by tired, though?"

"I just meant that you sound over it all...what would you do if you weren't a cop?"

"Contractor? Something where I could use my hands, not be behind a desk all day. No offense," he added once he realized that's she probably spent most of her day.

"None taken."

She'd relaxed into the seat, the side of her head resting against the back cushion, in direct alignment with his.

"What about you? Are you happy with what you do?"

"It's a great job. On the best days, it can be stimulating and rewarding, but I think the problem is that I expect too much from it. I always thought it would be my life and I tried to make it that, but it's just not, so I can't help but feel restless from time to time."

"What would you do if you weren't a lawyer?"

"I don't know."

"You do have to answer your own questions, you know," he teased.

"I did. I honestly don't know what else I'd do. I can't think of anything else I'd rather do or that would be an improvement. Maybe I need to change my life and then everything at work will fall into place...isn't it usually the other way around? You make changes at work to make your life better?"

She looked to Rick for confirmation, but found him stifling a yawn, his hooded eyes watering as he did so.

"Maybe I should also take a hint and stop boring you."

"That's not it at all. It's just the lack of sleep and sitting in one place for too long. I should probably get going," he said as he rubbed his eyes.

"Are you kidding me? It's not safe to make that drive at this hour when you can barely keep your eyes open. You know that better than anyone, I'm sure. You can stay here."

"I don't wanna put you out," he said with a wave of his hand.

"You're not. The guest room is all yours. Come on," she said popping up from the couch, expecting him to do the same. She turned to find him lingering in his seat probably still thinking of ways to decline her offer, so she reached her hands out for his and watched as a he grinned at her. She wiggled her fingers impatiently as she waited for him to finally place his hands in hers. She pulled him up, then stepped behind him, guiding him to the guest room with one hand between his shoulder blades.

"There are fresh towels in the bathroom closet and toiletries under the sink. Help yourself to whatever you need."

She stopped once they reached the bedroom door and gave him a final push in. He turned toward her, placing his hands at each side of the door frame and looked at her for a moment, wondering if there was any way he could justify two just friends sharing a bed, but decided to wait for another time to push the boundaries.

"Thank you," he said genuinely.

"Don't mention it."

"What time do you need me out of here tomorrow?" he asked causing her to roll her eyes, as if she was in a rush to get him out of her house.

"No time. Just sleep as long as you need to. Go when you need to go," she said with a smile and easiness that made him reconsider his decision not to grab her hand and lead her to the bed just a few feet away.

"Good night, Rick," she answered as if she could tell what she was thinking.

"Night, Michonne."

"Good morning."

Michonne turned from her spot to in front of the open, nearly empty fridge to find Rick strolling into her kitchen sporting a sheepish grin. Even though he was wearing the same outfit as yesterday, now with a few more wrinkles, and sporting a thicker layer of scruff, he looked remarkably well rested compared to the night before.

"Good morning," she returned as she shut the fridge and moved to lean on the counter, facing him. "How'd you sleep?"

"Really well. I caught the sunrise from bed. That's not a bad way to start the day."

"Yeah, that's the best thing about that room. Sometimes I miss getting that view every morning."

Michonne saw Rick wrinkle his nose at that statement, making her aware that he found it odd that she'd spent significant time in the guest room of her apartment.

"Yeah, there's a story there," she admitted watching as he tilted his head with interest. "But that's for another time...you hungry?"

"I could eat."

"Unfortunately, all I have in the house is one Greek yogurt, some coffee, and expired creamer."

"Who's the bachelor here?" he teased earning a reluctant chuckle from her.

"There's a place around the corner that I love. If we head over now, we can beat the rush."

"Sounds good."

With that, she stepped into her boots that were waiting by the door, threw on a jacket, and grabbed her purse. They headed out of the building and walked the two blocks down to her go-to weekend breakfast spot, its large front patio which was usually bustling now vacant due to the winter weather. The hostess greeted Michonne with warm familiarity and led her straight to the bar area where she usually sat in order to find refuge from the early rush of families with their screaming children and the later wave of large parties of loud twenty-something brunchers.

Rick pulled out the chair for her and allowed her to settle in before taking a seat at the bar next to her. Before they could even ask, the bartender brought out two coffees and placed menus in front of them then inquired about how she'd been and what she'd done for the holidays. Michonne didn't even open her menu, and instead went to work opening three small containers of cream to pour in her coffee. Rick mused to himself as he perused the menu how despite the big buildings and the modern decor of the restaurant, this morning had a decidedly relaxed, small town feel to it, not dissimilar to the feeling he gets walking into Henry's bar or the local diner.

Once Rick put down his menu, the bartender promptly came over to take their order then he finally set his sights on the mug of coffee in front of him. Michonne turned sideways in her seat to face him, legs crossed and coffee mug encircled by both hands as she watched him open one container of creamer and pour half into his coffee before setting it down and raising the mug to his lips. He blew on it quickly before slurping up the first sip of the still too hot liquid. He kept it raised waiting to go back for another sip, but was distracted when he caught Michonne looking at him out of the corner of his eye.

"Yes?" he asked shifting his eyes in her direction.

"What's the point of that little creamer? Why not just drink it black?"

"What's the point of your three creamers? Why not have a glass of milk instead?" he shot back with a grin before taking a second sip.

"Oh OK, Rick," she said as she began to laugh, feeling put in her place. "I didn't even know you were paying attention."

He placed the mug down and turned his head to look at her, a huge smile plastered on her face.

"Oh, I see everything. It's my job."

"I'll keep that in mind."

"So..."

"So?"

"What's the story with the guest room?" Rick asked watching Michonne's brow furrow as she took a sip of coffee.

"Mmm," she finished swallowing before she answered. "Didn't I say another day?"

"You said another time."

"Well, how about another day? I'm just in a good mood and I don't want to ruin it."

"Fair enough. But you should know that for someone who likes asking a lot of questions, you're shit at answering them."

A smile tugged at both of their lips, and she lightly kicked his leg with hers in admonishment for calling her out.

"Another day. I promise."

He nodded, accepting her deal, and looked down to see the foot she had kicked him with resting on the lower rung of his chair putting the toe of her boot in light contact with the back of his calf. He wondered if she'd done it on purpose or even noticed at all, but he had no intention of pursuing an answer for fear of ending it.

"OK, so we have one ham, cheese, and mushroom omelet with a side of bacon," a voice called from behind causing them to straighten in their chairs and lean away from each other to allow the food to be placed in front of them. "And one veggie egg white omelet. Enjoy."

The smell of melted cheese and bacon wafting up from Michonne's plate caused Rick to look over from his lifeless, monochromatic plate of egg whites and dry toast to the greasy, glorious mess piled on hers.

"Food envy?" she asked pushing her side order of bacon over to him.

"Yeah," he answered reaching for a piece of bacon.

"I was wondering what you were thinking when you ordered that."

"I was thinking I would be good and make the healthy choice...even if it's not what I really wanted," she said with a frown.

She stopped chewing for a moment, and met eyes with him, both of them being struck with the irony of what he'd just said. He let out a dry chuckle while she swallowed and returned her attention to her plate, dragging her knife straight down the middle of her omelet.

"Well if that isn't some fitting metaphor for life right now, I don't know what is," she answered with a grin as she scooped her fork under half of the omelet and braced the top with her knife to transfer it to his plate, plopping it on top of his still untouched food.

"You don't have to do that."

"I know, but I was never going to be able to eat it all anyway...plus looking at your breakfast just makes me sad. Weekends were made for bacon and eggs, you've got the rest of the week to be good. At least that's what I tell myself."

"That works for me," he said as he cut a piece with his fork and took a bite. She watched as his lips turned up while he chewed and he began nodding his head, enjoying her breakfast much more than his.

"Michonne."

She swiveled around in her chair, the smile fading from her face, as she found Andrea standing there with her hands on her hips and a look of reproach that matched the stern tone of her voice.

"Thanks for letting me know you're back in town," she continued as she stepped towards her.

Rick kept his head forward, deciding to let Michonne handle this encounter as she saw fit.

"I got back late last night. I was gonna call you this morning, see about lunch later."

"Oh...actually, can we just do that tomorrow?"

"Sure."

She watched as Andrea's eyes drifted to the male figure beside her, then back to her. Who's that? she mouthed. Michonne shook her head no, silently asking her friend not to pursue it then changed the subject.

"So what are you doing today instead of having lunch with me?"

"I just have other plans already."

"With whom?"

"Just some guy," Andrea answered vaguely. Any other day, Michonne would have been all over that, but she decided to let it go in exchange for like treatment.

"Well, I look forward to hearing all about it tomorrow," Michonne said with a smile.

"I look forward to hearing about everything tomorrow, as well," Andrea replied feeling as if they were both speaking in code. "I've gotta get back to my date, so I'm gonna go. Tomorrow, normal place and time?"

"Yep."

"Ok, see you later," Andrea said as she turned to exit the room, forgoing using the restrooms which was her original reason for going back there in the first place.

"Bye," Michonne called out, watching her for a moment as she walked away before turning forward in her chair.

"Andrea?" Rick asked turning his head to his left to look at her.

"Yep," answered as she reached for her coffee.

Rick placed his hand on her upper back and rubbed it lightly, sensing her tension.

Andrea reached the hostess stand and took a look back at the room she'd just come from before turning into the dining room. She saw the mystery man with his hand on her friend's back and recognized his profile immediately.

"Holy shit," she whispered under her breath.

---

Chapter 8

---

The light pressure of fingertips moving through her jacket and onto her forearm caused her to turn from her spot in front of the hostess stand to find Andrea at her side. She leaned into her, giving her some variation on a hug then looked down at the blonde who had her wavy hair thrown back in a ponytail, and was glowing despite not wearing a stitch of make-up.

"You look tired and happy at the same time if that's even possible."

"Apparently it is because that's exactly how I feel." Andrea beamed as they began to follow the hostess to their table.

"Are you gonna be like this the whole time?"

"Maybe."

"Some guy must be really amazing."

"Well, he was last night and the night before..." Andrea said coyly as they took their seats.

"Oh my God," Michonne said laughing as she dropped her head in her hands from second hand embarrassment. "Why do you say things like that?"

"How can I not when I know you're going to react like that?"

Michonne shook her head in disapproval and reached for the bread basket, tearing off the corner of a roll and popping it in her mouth.

"So what's this guy's story? Where did you meet?"

"At a bar...this time."

They paused their conversation once the waiter appeared, but quickly placed their standard orders and got back to it.

"This time? Did you know him already?"

"Yeah. We've known each for a while and became reacquainted recently."

"You're being evasive all of a sudden...wait, do I know him?"

"Yes," Andrea said dropping her playful tone.

Michonne pressed her forearms against the edge of the table, and leaned forward, her mind racing through the various possibilities.

"Is it someone we used to work with? Or, no! Tell me it's not your ex from law school. I heard he was back in town working at Southerland and Nash."

"No, it's neither of those."

"Is it that guy who used to live in your building? The one who was always over at your place? Brian?"

"I totally forgot about that guy..." Andrea said tilting her head and reflecting for a moment. "But no. Not him."

"I have no clue then."

"It's Terry," she revealed after taking a deep breath.

"Terry?" Michonne repeated, wrinkling her forehead as she tried to place the name for a moment before it hit her. "Like Mike's Terry?"

"Yeah," Andrea answered, apprehensively studying Michonne's reaction.

"But what about his fiancée?"

"He doesn't have one anymore. They broke it off a few months ago."

"Seriously? They were together forever."

"Yeah, well, being engaged forever and never setting a date is like a big red flag to me, but what do I know?" Andrea said out of the corner of her mouth, chasing her sarcasm with a sip of wine.

"I don't really get it. I didn't even think you two liked each other very much."

"Well, we were forced to spend a lot of time together because of you and Mike. He was in a relationship most of the time, and I was doing my own thing, so we never really connected. But when I ran into him a few weeks ago, and it was like, hello. He's much cooler than I remember him being."

She watched her friend sit quietly across the table, looking downward, her face vacillating between perplexed and not amused.

"What are you thinking over there?"

Michonne looked up and stared at Andrea, absently shaking her head as she formulated her thoughts.

"I'm thinking...I'm trying to figure out how I feel about this because I'm feeling something."

"He's not Mike."

"I know."

"He's not anything, really. He's just a guy when it comes down to it."

"I think it's just the association with Mike. I thought I'd distanced myself from all of that."

"And with Mike in Chicago now, you have. You don't have to worry about it. Terry says he rarely talks to him or sees him anymore."

Michonne quietly nodded, that fact not easing her mind much.

"Look, I was nervous as hell to tell you about this. I went over it a million times in my mind trying to figure out if it was wrong, and I thought about keeping it to myself for a little while longer, but after what I saw yesterday, I figured you may have a unique understanding..." Andrea trailed off as she looked at Michonne knowingly, a small smirk pulling at her lips.

"What exactly did you see?"

"I saw you and Rick having a very early Saturday morning breakfast at a place right around the corner from your apartment."

Michonne looked shamefaced, her eyes darting to the ceiling for a moment before she could look at her friend again.

"So you recognized him?"

"Oh, you were trying to hide it?" she laughed. "Of course I recognized him...what's going on there?"

"I don't know," Michonne lied automatically before realizing there was no point in doing so anymore. "That's not true. There are feelings there and we're just trying to figure out what to do with it right now."

"When? How?" Andrea asked completely captivated by her friend's surprising and honest admission.

"Since I met him, I guess? There was just this pull and every time we saw each other it got stronger and stronger."

"Is that the real reason you broke up with Shane? Not that whole I stopped having fun line you gave me?"

"I actually did stop having fun because being attracted to the best friend of the guy you're seeing is stressful, but even if Rick wasn't in the picture, I'm not sure how long it would have lasted."

"I had no clue any of this was going on..."

"Good. That was the point."

"So what's the deal with you two? Is this a thing?"

"We're getting to know each other."

"OK...like in the biblical sense?"

"Nope."

"Not at all?"

"Not at all...I mean, there was a moment right before I broke it off with Shane, but we stopped before anything happened."

"I admire your resolve."

"I just keep thinking, what if this was us? What if we were in Rick and Shane's positions?"

Andrea leaned back in her chair and took a sip of her wine while she cast her eyes on the table, giving the scenario the serious thought it deserved for Michonne's sake.

"I just can't ever imagine you doing something that you know would hurt me, and if you fell for some guy and had your reasons, I can't imagine that I wouldn't be able to come to terms with it. And that goes both ways."

"I agree."

"Also, just because you dated Shane for a month, that shouldn't dictate who you can and can't see. It really comes down to the strength of Shane and Rick's friendship, so you've gotta let him take the lead on that one."

"That's what he said."

"Smart man."

"So you don't think I'm a shitty person?"

"Uh no. Although, I'm incredibly biased when it comes to you since you're my favorite person ever, so you should probably take that into consideration...you OK with me?"

"Always. Honestly, the whole Terry thing? It's a nonissue. Any reaction I had was from my feelings about Mike, not you two. Terry's a good guy."

Andrea smiled in response, relieved to have the situation out in the open and to have Michonne's blessing.

"Now if there ends up being a wedding, we're gonna have to talk about that. I'm not playing maid of honor to Mike's best man."

"Oh shit, I didn't even think about that," Andrea said laughing. "That would be so awkward."

"Yep. Just about as awkward as never being able to live down the fact that you had sex with your boyfriend's best friend."

"Oh my God, Michonne," Andrea said continuing to laugh and wiping a tear out of her eye. Her friend always had her shit together and never found herself in these situations which was obviously killing her. "But there's a limit on that stuff. You just forget it over time, like maybe three months for every month you were together, and you weren't together that long," she posited hopefully.

"I hope so. We really made that month count, though," Michonne said dourly.

"So maybe it's more like a six to one ratio in that case."

Michonne gave her an unconvinced look, and shook her head in dismay at the mess that continued to present itself.

"You're already in deep. Just a few more unpleasant things to get through and you'll be on the other side. You've gotta do what makes you happy."

Michonne smiled and reached across the table to squeeze Andrea's hand, thankful for her support. The ladies moved on to lighter subjects, and finished their lunch leisurely, enjoying each other's company and catching up since they'd missed out on a week's worth of morning chats at work thanks to the holiday. Once the bill was settled, the ladies suited up in their jackets and left the restaurant, saying good bye with a quick hug out front. Andrea headed south to her building and Michonne headed north, digging into her purse to find her cell phone. She pulled up the still unmarked number that belonged to Rick and tapped it with her thumb then brought the phone to her ear while she walked down the street.

Hey.

She could hear the smile in his voice which made her smile, as well.

"Hey."

She sighed and paused for a moment, not explaining the reason for her call like he expected.

Everything OK?

"Yeah. Everything's fine...hey, is it too soon to see you again?"

Definitely not.

"I can come to you this time, if that's OK."

Of course it is.

"Good. Just send me your address and I'll take it from there."

Sounds good.

"I'll see you later."

See you in a bit.

Michonne slowed to read the numbers on the simple wood post mailbox on the side of the road as she'd been doing every few hundred yards for the past 2 miles. Finally spotting one marked 10068, she hung a right onto the packed, red dirt road lined with mature oak trees stripped of their leaves due to the winter weather. After slowly winding down the long driveway she came upon a two story wood frame house painted white with dark green shutters, a tin roof, and a huge wrap around porch where its handsome owner sat on the top step braving the cold with his hands stuffed into the pockets of his brown suede bomber jacket as he waited for her. He stood as soon as he saw her, a smile spreading across his face, and began to walk down the steps and over to her car as she got out.

"You made it," he said stopping a couple feet shy of her.

"I did,'' she said smiling back as she continued toward him, stepping into his personal space and wrapping her arms around his waist. He rocked back slightly before he steadied himself and wrapped one arm across her back and placed the other at the side of her head which she'd turned to rest against his chest. He dropped his chin on top of her head and rubbed her back lightly, enjoying this new greeting compared to the awkward dance they usually did.

"Glad to see you."

"Glad to see you, too," she said tilting her head to look up at him before she pulled away. She turned to look at his house shaking her head in amazement. "This place is beautiful, Rick...and not at all what I expected."

"What'd you think it'd be like?"

"A little apartment in town, I guess."

"My great aunt willed it to me when she passed since she didn't have any kids of her own, but Lori wanted to live closer to town, so we bought a small house there and this place was always here for friends or family who fell on hard times and needed a place to stay until it was finally my turn."

He looked down to see her still taking in the house and the grounds with wide eyes.

"Come on, let's get you inside," he said with a tilt of his head and a hand briefly grazing the small of her back to push her along up the stairs, onto the porch and through the front door where she, again, stopped to take in the surroundings.

"So this is my place," he said with a wave of his arm, mimicking the way she'd shown him around her apartment.

"Nope. You can get away with that in a thousand square foot apartment, but this place deserves a proper tour."

"We'll save that for later. Can I get you something to drink?" he asked as he started down the hall ahead of her.

"You have any whiskey? Bourbon?"

He paused and craned his neck back to look at her.

"What? It warms you up."

"So does coffee."

"Not the same. How about a little drink by that beautiful fireplace?"

"You are so high maintenance," he said shaking his head as he continued onto the kitchen. "And what kind of question was that anyway? Of course I've got whiskey in the house."

"Like the good southern boy you are," she said to the back of his head while following behind him.

"That's right," he said with that cockiness that liked to come out every now and then.

They walked into the large kitchen and Rick went straight to the wood hutch in the corner to grab a bottle of whiskey and two rocks glasses then joined her at the kitchen counter. He made a small pour in her glass before she raised her hand to stop him then poured slightly more in his.

"So what's the occasion?" he asked.

"There isn't one. Just wanted to see you."

He nodded and raised his glass. "To seeing you," he said with a grin.

"To seeing you," she said before clinking her glass to his and taking a small sip, feeling the burn travel down her chest and into her belly.

"Take it or leave it?" he asked holding up the bottle.

"Leave it."

They grabbed their glasses and headed back to his living room, finding their way to the fireplace where Rick gathered his supplies to build the fire. She knelt next to him and watched intently since it was something she'd never done before.

"So how did it go with Andrea?" he asked over his shoulder.

"It was an interesting lunch. She's onto us."

"You kind of had to figure that."

"I know, but it would have been nice to fly under the radar for a little while longer."

"I guess now's as good a time as any to let you know that my ex knows about us, too," he said looking back over his shoulder once again awaiting her reaction, and she didn't disappoint as her jaw nearly hit the floor.

"Tell me you're kidding."

"No. My kids sold us out. Apparently they only had nice things to say about you, though," he said with a smirk, having already had time to process and come to terms with this piece of information.

"Oh my God, it doesn't stop. Just keeps piling up. I honestly don't know what else could go wrong at this point," she said as she stood up and turned to leave the room.

"Bite your tongue," he said still focused on his task until he caught her movement out of the corner of his eye. "Hey, where you off to?"

"I'm grabbing the bottle. Just in case."

They sat side by side on the floor in front of the fireplace; arms touching due to their close proximity, backs leaned against the antique trunk that served as a coffee table, and legs extended out in front of them. She looked at her sock covered feet, then over at his still boot clad feet that dwarfed hers in size. They had fallen into a quiet daze thanks to the warmth from the fire, their one glass of whiskey, and the increasingly late hour. She sighed, feeling relaxed and content, and looked up at Rick for the first time since they last spoke, noting that he was either just as relaxed as she was or on the verge of falling asleep.

"You can kick me out whenever you want. I don't want to keep you up on a work night."

"I actually need to stay up. I've got night shift this week, so I'm trying to get on that cycle, hopefully sleep during the day tomorrow before I go in."

"That's rough."

"The first night is always the worst, and then you get used to it. I only have to do it a few times a year, so I can't complain...you workin' tomorrow?"

"Sort of. The office is still a ghost town with people off for the holidays, so I'm just working from home, going in if I need to."

"Sounds like a cush deal."

"I paid my dues," she defended with a grin. "Logged plenty of eighty hour work weeks to get to where I am."

"I'm just teasin'," he said as he tapped his foot against hers.

"I know...I can stay. Keep you company if you'd like," she offered.

He didn't answer; he just looked down at her with a grin and nodded. She shyly smiled back, and looked down at their feet side by side, then tapped his boot with her foot.

"You sleep in those things?" she teased.

"Oh yeah. Do everything in 'em. Sleep, eat, shower..."

She smiled begrudgingly as he met her teasing with his own.

"Carl doesn't wear boots, does he?"

"No, he prefers sneakers. First Grimes boy to break tradition."

"You should get Judes a pair. That girl could rock some cowboy boots."

"Rock?" Rick asked with a perplexed look.

"Yeah, like, she'd wear them well. She'd tear it up in a little pair of boots. You've gotta do it," she said growing more excited with the thought.

"Yeah, I'll think about it."

"If you don't, I will since she obviously appreciates my taste in shoes," Michonne said recalling the how the toddler high jacked her wedge sandals the first time she met her.

"Yeah, well, if you keep coming around these parts, we'll have to get you a pair, too," he said tapping her foot back with his causing her to grin.

"Ehh, I don't know about that."

"What? The boots or the coming around here?"

"I don't know, both?"

"Wait, I thought you liked it out here?" Rick asked tilting his head back to look at her.

"No, I do. I really do. There's just something about being out here when you're used to the city. It's refreshing at first, then it becomes sort of unsettling. It's a little too dark, too quiet, too isolated. And if something happens, there's no one around to help you. It kind of freaks me out."

"You watch a lot of horror movies?" he asked with a grin.

"No," she said bashfully hitting his thigh. "I guess it's hard to understand when you're used to it."

"I think I get it, but I think there's something you're forgetting."

"What's that?"

"I'm the law out here. Nobody'd be able to get through me to get to you," he growled quietly into her ear as if he didn't want anyone else to hear it but her. His voice was steeped in arrogance and his southern drawl thicker than ever, causing the hairs on the back of her neck and arms to stand up. She locked eyes with him, his gaze unwavering and face not belying the seriousness of his claim.

"Say that first part again," she whispered with a smirk, not breaking eye contact while resting her hand lightly on his thigh.

"I'm the law out here," he repeated deliberately with an exaggerated drawl for her benefit, the corner of his mouth twitching upward as he felt her grip on his thigh tighten and watched her eyes sparkle with delight among other things.

She began to run her fingers lightly back and forth over his thigh, her pinkie grazing the bulge in his jeans causing him to shut his eyes and exhale her name with a long slow breath as he rested his forehead against hers.

"We doing this?" he asked.

Her eyes flicked down to his lips, then back up to his eyes as she moved her hands to each side of his face.

"We're doing this," she whispered, waiting a moment to see if he would protest which he didn't.

She tilted her head and moved in slowly, pressing her lips to his and softly exploring his mouth with her own before gripping his succulent lower lip between hers and gently tugging on it before slowly dragging herself away to meet his eyes again. He stared back at her, his chest visibly rising and falling with each breath, before coming onto his knees and moving his hand up the back of her neck and into her hair, his fingers running through her locks as he cradled the back of her head in his hand. He leaned into her and pressed his lips to hers as he gently lowered her to the floor, engulfing her body with his as they began their slow exploration of each other, finally open to wherever it would lead them during the long night ahead.

---

Chapter 9

---

"...and so I say Hands up! and, sure as shit, that asshole puts his hands straight up and down goes the towel lettin' it all hang out. First time he ever does what he's supposed to in his whole damn life, and it's still a damn crime. Scarred for life, I tell you," he said as he erupted into laughter at his own story soon accompanied by the high pitched laugh of his companion.

"I swear, I will never get tired of hearing that story." She sighed to give her belly a rest from laughing and swiped at the corner of her eye with her index finger, clearing the small tear that had amassed.

Shane took a swig of his beer and pulled the pretty red head in closer to him with the arm he had wrapped around her shoulder.

"Well, you know I got plenty more stories where that came from. In fact, craziest stories always happen on nights, so I'm sure I'll have more for you by the end of the week."

"I hope so. It'll be the only thing that makes up for them stealing you away from me all week."

"Duty calls, babe. What can I say?" he said, puffing out his chest a bit.

"I know...and it's so hot," she said as she ran her French manicured fingertips across his chest then up under his chin before pulling planting a kiss on his cheek. "I didn't know what I was missing out on all these years."

"Only took you twenty years to figure it out. You should've been payin' more attention to the football team instead of the baseball team, Suze."

"Yeah, could have saved me a ton of heartbreak and paperwork," she said referring to her recent divorce from her high school sweetheart. "Then again, I'm not sure things would have been any different with you given your reputation with my fellow cheerleaders."

"I have no idea what you're talking about," he said as he glanced up the ceiling, trying to look as innocent as possible.

"Jenny Bryant and Alison Holt? Prom night?" she offered watching his smirk grow wider and guiltier. "Mmm hmm, I heard all about girls shed a lot of tears over you and your antics. I think time's done you good. Mellowed you out some."

"I don't know who's spreadin' those rumors, but I ain't mellowed. That's not me. Never will be. Don't throw me in with all those sad sacks stuck sittin' at home on a Friday night after workin' hard all week to provide for their families. Getting nothing but dumped on by their wives...can't even remember the last time they had sex. No thank you."

"Sad sacks like my ex-husband and your best buddy, Rick?" she asked.

"Don't even get me started on Rick. Man left his wife a year ago and what is he doin' with his life now? Whole lotta nothing far as I can tell. Doesn't make sense. Lori's a good woman and those kids deserved better."

"I'm sure you know better than me, but I heard through Faye that Lori and Rick had been fightin' a lot, sometimes going days on end without talking. She said it took some time, but she's happier now and the kids are handling it fine."

"I'm sure they have to tell themselves that."

"Like I said, I'm sure you know better."

"Yeah..." he said trailing off before checking the time on his watch quickly and finishing off his nearly empty bottle of beer in one swallow.

"What time is it?"

"Almost 1 AM. Henry's gonna kick us out soon. You ready to go back to my place?"

"I've been ready. I thought you were gonna hold out on me forever."

"I had to put it off as long as possible. I don't know if you can handle what I've got in store for you tonight."

"Boy, you better mean it when you say things like that."

He shook his head and nudged her hip with his, trying to hasten their departure, as they slid out of the booth in the back of the bar.

As soon as the final moan escaped her lips, her arched back melted into the floor and she released the handful of the area rug she had been clutching to for dear life for the past few minutes. What she didn't release, however, was Rick who had collapsed on top of her, his warm, sweaty body covering hers like a blanket. She slid the hand that had been anchored on his toned ass up his muscular back where it met her other hand to encircle his upper back in a tight embrace. He rested his head on her chest, allowing himself to enjoy this feeling while he caught his breath.

She ran her hand over the now tousled curls on his head, smoothing them back into place. They'd been still and silent for the past few minutes save for the sound of their breathing set against the crackling of the fireplace. His chest moved against hers before he released a long sigh which caused her to chuckle, as he was apparently feeling just as perfectly spent as she was. She tilted her chin to her chest to see his face and was met by his sleepy blue eyes.

"Are you sure we've never done this before?"

"Positive for so many reasons, one of which being, I know I would have remembered it," he said as his traced his fingers along the back of her arm.

"It scares me how easy things are with you."

He lifted his head from her chest and propped himself up on one elbow to fully look at her, one eyebrow arched in dismay since they'd had several discussions about their less than ideal circumstances.

"I'm talking about you, and you only," she clarified with a smile.

"So it's not too forward to say that I'm going to miss you this week?"

She looked down at her bare chest and then to her side where the only thing obscuring their naked bodies was the other's. She met his eyes and they both started to laugh. Saying he would miss her was the least he could do after what they'd just done.

"I'll miss you, too," she said warmly as she cupped his cheek in her hand. "Maybe the time apart is good, though. At the rate we're going, we could end up married by the end of the week."

The spark between them had been ignited six weeks ago; and they had tried to ignore it, then take things slowly, but they failed at each step along the way finding themselves here tonight completely powerless against this pull between them.

"You know you can stay here all week," Rick said with a crooked grin. "Put that theory to the test."

"No, we won't be doing that," she said with a look of reproach. She had no desire to tempt fate in that way, especially if she couldn't say with absolute certainty that it wouldn't happen. "Anyway, there's no way in hell I'm staying out here all by myself while you're at work. I already told you how I feel about that."

He shook his head at her irrational fear of country life despite his promise of safety then glanced down at his watch.

"What time is it?" she asked hoping that they'd done well with killing time.

"One-thirty."

"So four more hours until we can go to sleep?"

"Try not to look so disappointed. I thought we were having a good time here."

"We are. I'm just trying to pace myself," she said with a grin.

"You can go to bed anytime you want. No need to wait up for me."

"Stop. I told you I was in it for the long haul..."

He rolled onto his side and up to a seated position, suddenly leaving her exposed to the cold draft running along the floor. He placed his hands behind him to aid in standing up, groaning slightly as he felt the ache in his almost 40 year old back that came from lying on the hard ground. Michonne propped herself up on her elbows, unable to appreciate the full view of his exquisite form he was providing since she was reeling from being roused from their warm embrace.

"Where are you going?"

"The couch. Come on," he said with a tilt of his head.

He grabbed the flannel blanket draped over his aged leather armchair and went straight to the couch, laying on his side and spreading the blanket over himself, taking a moment to watch as she began to gather her clothes that were strewn across the floor in front of the fire place.

"You're not gonna need those."

His husky drawl called her attention to the fact that she was being watched, causing her to draw the bra and panties she clutched in her hand over her chest in a half-assed attempt at modesty.

"Really?" she challenged.

"They're gonna come back off eventually, but do whatever you want."

"Where does this come from?" she asked, equal parts annoyed and turned on by his presumption.

"What?" His feigned innocence was laughable.

"You know exactly what I'm talking about."

"Hmm," he scratched his and shook his head blankly. "I don't."

She stared at him for a moment then rolled her eyes before bending over to pick up his boxers and throwing them at his face. She turned her back to him and stepped into her panties one leg at a time then slowly pulled them up to her hips. He initially thought she'd turned for privacy from his prying eyes, but the view of her toned thighs leading up to her perfect ass and sculpted back made him think she knew exactly what she was doing. She threw his t-shirt on before turning around to join him on the couch. He lifted the blanket to allow her to slip under it with him, and she accepted the invitation, lying on her side, as well, face to face with him. He couldn't stop himself from lifting his hand to her cheek and going in for a kiss, parting his lips to allow her tongue to entangle with his as the kiss deepened. His hand moved from her cheek into the groove of her neck before trailing down her chest and settling on her hip bone for a moment on its way down.

"Mmmm, Rick..." she murmured into his mouth before pulling herself away to stare into his blue eyes. She looked at him for a moment, a bittersweet feeling washing over her. "Why couldn't you have been at the football game that day?" she asked with a slight frown.

"Would have saved us a lot of trouble if I had been."

"Us and everyone around us..."

"I know you said you said you two were just having fun, but what was going on that you needed that?"

"Yeah...I guess I owe you that story, huh?"

"You're not obligated to tell me anything. You can tell me as much or as little as you want."

She drew in a deep breath then exhaled as she readied herself to share a part of her past with him. His hand remained on her hip with his thumb gently tracing circles on her protruding hip bone, a small gesture of comfort that did not go unnoticed.

"He caught me just as I was starting to come out of a bad place...Back in the spring, I ended a seven year relationship, or rather it was ended for me, and it just threw me. I wasn't myself for a while, and Shane was there at a time when I was ready to come out of that place. And he was the polar opposite of my ex, didn't know anything about my situation, nice enough, seemed down for a good time, not interested in a commitment so no chance of feelings or any of the complications that come with that..."

Rick couldn't hold back a dry chuckle at how her plan had gone awry.

"I know," she deadpanned. "Funny how it turned out, huh?"

"What happened between you and your ex?"

"He cheated on me...with my secretary. It had been going on for months and it was one of those situations where I was the last to know which was horrible, just added insult to injury."

"I'm sorry." His eyes never left hers, as he listened with rapt attention, his thumb still drawing circles on her hipbone.

"Honestly, we were done a good year or so before the affair even started. We were just hanging on out of obligation, I guess? I don't even know why anymore because it just doesn't make sense when I look back."

"Does the guest room play into all of this?"

"The guest room..." she laughed to herself thinking back to their conversation in her kitchen the other morning."You remembered."

"Of course I did."

"Yeah, we owned that condo together so we were sort of stuck for a few months while we figured things out. He offered me our room, but I wanted absolutely nothing from him, so I just moved into the guest room. I'd stay at work as late as possible, hang out at Andrea's for hours on end, and when there was no other choice, head home and straight into that room."

"I remember that feeling."

"But you got out before things got bad," she pointed out.

He tilted his head, surprised to hear her say that.

"I remember you telling me that that night at Henry's bar. I admired you and your ex for doing that and salvaging what was left of your relationship. Wish I'd done the same thing."

"Well, it sounds nice and clean to tell it now, but it was rough going through it."

She fell quiet for a moment, letting that sentiment sink in, that perhaps the reward for dealing with issues head on is that in time, you can find peace with it.

"We've gotta tell him soon," she whispered.

"I know."

"I can talk to him if you think it's better coming from me."

"No. I already told you, it's my problem to deal with, not yours. I'll be with him all week, so once I feel like it's a good time, we'll talk."

"Will you let me know when you do?" Rick chuckled at her earnest request.

"As soon as I can, yes," he assured her as he moved his hand from her hip to grab hold of her hand, interlacing his fingers with hers and giving it a gentle squeeze.

"OK," she said, her lips slightly pouted and forehead creased with worry.

"Don't make that face," he said softly.

"I can't help it."

"Yeah, you can."

He gave her a few seconds, and she shut her eyes and sighed before looking back up at him, putting a smile on her face for his benefit. He leaned in and pressed his lips to her forehead.

"That's better. I don't want you to worry," he whispered before planting another quick kiss and pulling away to meet her eyes. She nodded to assure him that she would try not to.

"New subject?" he asked with a grin trying to lighten the mood.

"New subject," she agreed.

"So what are we gonna do next year?"

"Next year?" She pinched her face in confusion before it dawned on her that the upcoming week would bring in the New Year. "I really wish you hadn't said that. I can't stand that tired old joke." It truly was one of her pet peeves when people around the office would start saying See you next year! in the last few weeks of the year.

"But you fell for it."

"Well, I'm not quite at my sharpest right now" she defended due to her lingering post-sex daze and mounting lack of sleep.

"Right...so next weekend, what are you thinking?"

"I basically invited myself over here and took over your place tonight, so I feel like the next one's on you."

"Yeah, that was rather rude of you to come over here and drink my booze then take advantage of me."

"I needed to see you. What can I say? And don't act like you hated it because I know that's not true."

"Yeah, it's not true at all."

"So what do you want to do next weekend?"

"Honestly? Sleep for the first twenty four hours, just waking up to eat and visit with you. Then spend Sunday with my kids."

"I think that sounds perfect."

"So I can have you all weekend?"

"You can. I'll head over first thing Saturday morning to catch you when you get off your shift."

"It's gonna be a long week when I have that to look forward to."

"It will be for me, too."

"You sly son of a bitch!"

Rick slipped into the driver's seat of their patrol car with a perplexed look on his face as he handed Shane the bag of breakfast sandwiches and hash browns he'd just picked up then placed their coffees in the cup holders fulfilling their long standing tradition of spending the last hour of their week of night shifts listening to the scanner while indulging in a big, greasy breakfast before going home to hibernate for the rest of the weekend.

"What'd I do?" Rick asked as he pulled his food out of the bag, placing it on the center console which they used as a makeshift table.

"All this week, I'm thinking you're texting Carl or Lori with that goofy grin on your face, and then I find this," he said waving Rick's phone in front of him.

"How the hell'd you get that?"

"Fell out of your pocket onto your seat. You got a whole bunch of messages while you were gone. Who's 404-555-7395?" Shane asked as he squinted to read the number attached to the messages on the screen.

Rick swiped the phone out of his hand, thankful that he'd never marked Michonne's number and that Shane apparently hadn't committed it to memory.

"It's no one," Rick answered reflexively, his heart beating a little faster thanks to the close call. Once the words left his mouth, he wished he hadn't said them because this was the time he'd left himself to come clean anyway. He'd avoided it all week, and was down to his last chance to talk to Shane like he'd promised Michonne he would.

"That is bullshit, and you know it. Talk, brother. I need to hear all about this because I'll be honest, I had given up hope of you ever movin' on!"

Rick rolled his head back and forth twice, working out the knots that were already forming, and grabbed his coffee to take a sip, the caffeine not doing anything to help his already quickly beating heart. He looked over at Shane, still with a grin on his face, thinking that there was a chance that this could be one of the last friendly moments between them for at least a little while, if not forever.

"Can we talk?"

"What do you think I'm waiting for? Speak!" he said as he tore into his food.

"I'm serious. Can we have a real discussion here?"

"Of course, man," Shane said as his grin began to fade and his demeanor sobered. "I'm all ears."

---

Chapter 10

---

"Everything OK, man?"

"Yeah. I'm not..."

Rick sat staring through the windshield at the trees that lined the far reaches of the parking lot of the fast food restaurant where they had stationed themselves for the last hour of their shift. He found himself stumbling over words as he searched for the right thing to say; years of experience breaking bad news to people as a sheriff's deputy seemed to be of no help to him in this moment. He took another sip of coffee to stall, swallowing hard to get the liquid down his dry throat which felt like it was closing in on itself, before deciding to get on with it.

"I don't really know how else to do this other than just telling you the truth...I am seeing someone, and things are starting to get serious, and the reason I'm telling you is because that person is Michonne."

"Michonne? My Mitch?" The inflection of his voice rose as he wrinkled his forehead, stunned by the admission.

"Yeah."

Rick watched Shane cautiously as he broke eye contact with him, looking past his shoulder and out the window behind. He was quiet and calm, but Rick could tell the gears were turning in his head as he processed the information; and he braced himself for the eruption.

"How the hell did this happen?"

"We ran into each other a couple weeks ago and it just went from there."

"A couple weeks and now it's serious? You think you're soul mates or some shit now?"

The anger in his voice had started to rise just as Rick suspected it would. He stayed silent, and kept his expression neutral as he looked at Shane, then looked down to his lap where he was clasping his hands so tightly his knuckles had turned white. He watched Shane's feet scuff against the floor board while he shifted in his seat, his agitation becoming more apparent.

"Was this goin' on when we were together?"

Rick stayed silent, head still cast down, pondering the best way to answer the question. There was no easy way to answer since their actions inhabited a grey area; not quite wrong, but not all right.

"Was it?" he repeated forcefully finally causing Rick to look him in the eye.

"There was an attraction, but it wouldn't have gone beyond that while you were together."

"So you sat right here in this car, lettin' me spill my guts to you about this girl, and all the while you're trying to get to her behind my back?"

"I was trying not to for your sake," he spat back, unable to hold back his feelings any longer.

Shane opened the car door and stepped out, slamming it shut behind him. Rick watched him through the windshield as he paced back and forth, muttering to himself, before stopping to stand in place with his back to the car and his hands on his hips. Rick watched the expansion of his chest with each breath gradually decrease until it looked like he was finally calming down. He hoped that after this moment of cooling off, they could both say whatever else they needed to say and get this over with. He opened the car door and stepped out, quietly walking around the back of the car to Shane's side, his eyes trained on his back the entire time. As soon as Shane heard his footsteps, he raised his right hand to his forehead then dropped it to his side, slapping his thigh in frustration. He turned and began walking toward Rick, his eyes wild and lips forming a twisted grin.

"You know, nobody would ever expect this shit from you. Not Officer Friendly. And that makes you the worst kind because you'll never correct anyone, let them know what really happened here. You'll just let them assume it was on me. Shane lost his girl to Rick, must have fucked up again."

"That is not what I'm doing. I am trying to be honest with you, make the best of a shit situation. You think this is what I wanted to happen?"

"I think you really don't care because you're getting what you want." He looked down and ran a hand through his hair then stepped right up to Rick, pushing his index finger into his chest.

"You've had your chance at a good thing, Rick, and you threw it away."

Rick stepped into him instead of backing down, and cocked his head to one side, as he peered at Shane.

"Ending a twenty year relationship after trying to make it work for years is not throwing it away. Lori and I fought to make it work until we couldn't do it anymore. You have no idea what you're talking about," he snarled, remaining right in Shane's face. He was trying his damnedest to remain restrained, but Shane was relentless in his attack.

"You're right, because you stepped in on my chance at having that. I told you how I felt. I told you I was tryin' with her, but you just couldn't help yourself, could you?"

"It was never going to happen for you. Not with her,' Rick said through clenched teeth, trying to maintain his composure.

"You don't know that."

"I do."

"You don't know shit, Rick."

"It was never gonna happen for you because all you were was a distraction. She never saw you as anything more than that!"

Shane stepped back, letting out a huff, and shaking his head at Rick's outburst. He drew his arm back and threw a right cross that connected with the left side of Rick's face causing his head to turn all the way to the right with his body following in that direction. He stumbled and caught his balance, bending over to brace his hands on his knees as he clenched his eyes shut, letting the wave of dizziness run over him before he tried to stand. He brought his left hand to his face, literally feeling the heat and throbbing that he thought only existed in his head at the moment. He opened and shut his eyes a few times until the tunnel vision had dissipated then slowly raised himself to a standing position to find that Shane was no longer there in front of him. He turned to find him gathering his belongings from the trunk of their car, slamming it shut once he was finished.

Shane looked over at his partner, shaking his head in disbelief at what had just happened between them.

"I'm done. Get out of here. I'll find a ride back to my place. I'm putting in for reassignment first thing Monday morning."

As soon as Rick's truck appeared in the driveway, Michonne popped up from her place on the steps of his front porch to greet him, not even trying to hide the fact that she couldn't wait another minute to wrap her arms around him after almost a week apart.

"It's not nice to keep a girl waiting like that," she teased as she came up behind him, sliding her hands around his waist while he was bent over gathering his belonging from the opposite seat. He slowly straightened up then turned to face her.

"Oh my God, Rick," she gasped, her hand automatically reaching towards his swollen eye. He grabbed her wrist and sucked in a sharp breath from the pain of her fingertips coming in contact with his injury. She quickly scanned the rest of his face and body for any other signs of harm then looked back at him with worried eyes.

"What happened to you?"

Rick looked up at the bare oak tree in front of him, and let out a weary sigh as he adjusted the strap of his duffel of his shoulder before looking back down at her and shaking her head. She nodded in understanding, and pulled the keys from his hand then placed her hand on his back between his shoulder blades to guide him back up to the house. She found herself looking up at his face every few seconds, unable to stop looking at the swollen pink mass that seemed to have taken over his left eye.

"Is it that bad?" he asked finally breaking his silence, his voice hoarse and worn.

"No," she lied. "When did it happen?"

She inserted the lock and opened the door, ushering him across the threshold in front of her.

"Just before I came home."

She nodded and walked him back to his room, taking the duffle from him and setting it in the corner before pointing over at his bed.

"Sit. I'm gonna go get some supplies to take care of that."

"You know where everything is?" he called out as he stood aimlessly in the middle of his room.

"I'll figure it out. Just sit."

He kicked his boots off in the middle of the floor then eased himself onto the edge of his bed, exhaling and letting his shoulders slump as he sunk into the mattress. He closed his eyes and raised his fingertips to the bridge of his nose and began to pinch it as he often did when worried, tired, or frustrated, all of which he was feeling now, but quickly dropped his hand when it caused too much pain. He sighed in frustration instead and looked up, catching a glimpse of himself in his dresser mirror. His eye looked every bit as bad as it felt, and so did he. His good eye had a dark circle under it, and his face was drawn and tired looking. He didn't like

seeing himself this way, and more than that, he hated that Michonne had to see this ugliness, and that's just what it was to him. All he had to do was hold his tongue and let Shane vent until he ran out if things to say, but listening to him talk about his chance at a relationship with Michonne triggered him to react. For him to imply that the only reason he didn't work out with Michonne was simply due to Rick's presence and interference was a slight to her; this intelligent, independent woman who was making decisions for herself and not just a pawn in a love triangle. So he spoke for her; wrong or right, he couldn't stop himself.

He looked away from the mirror when he caught sight of her figure in the doorway, she'd paused for a moment to look at him, the corners of her mouth still curved downward in a frown and her forehead creased with worry.

"What'd I tell you about making that face?" he called out, trying his best to smile at her.

She frowned more deeply and shook her head then moved toward him, dropping a bag of frozen peas on the bed next to him and handing him a glass of water. She used her now free hands to open the bottle of ibuprofen she'd found, and shook four pills into the palm of her hand.

"Here, take these."

He opened his palm and she dropped the pills in his hand, noticing him looking hesitantly at them for a moment.

"I know the bottle says two, but that's not gonna touch the pain. It's OK."

He complied, throwing back the pills and finishing off the glass of water. She took the empty glass from him and set it on the side table then moved in front of him, stepping into the space between his parted knees to take a closer look at his eye. He placed his hands on her hips and pulled her closer, though, resting his forehead against her belly. She placed her hands in his back, rubbing gently.

"What happened?"

"I told him, and he didn't take things well."

"Obviously, but what did he say? What made him lash out?"

She felt him shake his head against her belly.

"It doesn't matter."

"Rick..."

He pulled his head back and looked up at her, pleading with his eyes not to pursue this. She nodded and let her arms slip off of his back, but he kept his hands steadied on her hips, needing to feel connected to her.

She resumed her check of him, lightly pressing around the eye to see if there were signs of a broken bone underneath the swelling. He watched her face as she examined him, and noticed tears starting to well up in her eyes. She swiped at her eye with the back of her wrist and sniffed through her nose, trying to rein them in. She pressed the frozen bag of peas over his eye, but he moved his hand up to replace hers.

"Hey. There's no need for that."

She rolled her eyes at her display of emotion and wiped at her watery eyes with her fingers.

"Even though I knew it was coming, it still feels pretty awful."

"It's done, though. It'll all blow over soon enough."

"Do you think you'll be able to be friends again?"

"Not anytime soon, but in time, I'd like to think we will."

"Rick, what was said?"

He dropped the bag from his eye and tilted his head to one side, trying to arch his eyebrow at her, but the effect of the face she'd come to know as his Come on now look was completely lost. Instead she just felt pity as she looked at him. She tried twice and, obviously, she wasn't going to get the details she wanted right now. Instead she put her hand under his to lift the makeshift ice bag up to his eye.

"You really need to keep this on there. It's the only thing that's going to help with the swelling."

He complied and she grinned at him to show her appreciation then ran her fingers through his hair before letting her hand fall to his good cheek where she ran her thumb along his cheekbone.

"What are you gonna tell the kids tomorrow?"

"I'll just tell them a bad guy got the best of me. They're young enough that they still think that's how I spend my days. Good guy chasin' bad guys."

"And what about everyone else?"

"I don't know. I'll come up with something on the spot. Just brush it off as an accident."

"How are you feeling otherwise?"

"I'm fine. The eye hurts, but that's about it."

He moved has free hand from her hip to the small of her back, pulling her closer to him until her thighs met the edge of the bed in the space between his legs.

"Happy New Year, by the way," he said with a grin as he looked up at her.

"Happy New Year," she said with a wry laugh. "Hell of a start," she added to which he shrugged his shoulders.

"Come here," he said as he dropped the bag of peas on the bed beside him and used that hand to reach up for her cheek, gently lowering her face towards his. She gave him a light kiss on the lips and began to pull away, afraid of touching his face in the wrong place or doing anything that would cause him pain, but she felt resistance from his hand and he leaned in pressing his lips to hers, deepening the kiss almost immediately, and pulling her on top of himself as he laid back on the bed. She climbed onto the bed, coming to rest on her bent knees while straddling his waist, her chest pressed to his.

"What are you doing?" she whispered in between kisses as he began to run his hand up under her sweater.

"What I've been waiting to do all week," he whispered back as he cupped her breast in his hand, letting his thumb graze over her the front of her bra, the barrier barely dulling the sensation on her nipple and causing her to gasp lightly with pleasure.

"But I'm afraid of accidentally hurting you."

"You not gonna hurt me."

She dropped her chin to her chest and rolled her neck, her desire only continuing to mount as he pressed her pelvis to his with pressure on his lower back.

"OK, but quick and slow."

"Quick and slow?" he teased, pointing out the contradiction.

"You know what I mean. Quick, but gentle."

"I haven't the faintest, but I'm gonna go with it," he said with a smirk.

"You're asking for a matching set, right now," she said as she pointed two fingers at his eyes.

She slid off of him, letting her feet find the floor then grabbed his hand to pull him up to a seated position. He began to protest, but she raised a hand to stop him, letting him know that she was handling things. She unbuttoned his shirt, helping his arms out one at a time then lifted the hem of his undershirt, pulling it up and gingerly working the collar over his face. She then unbuttoned his pants, sliding them off one leg at a time along with his boxers.

"Lay back," she said as she nodded toward the head of his bed.

He kept his eyes on her as he scooted back onto his bed. She stripped off her clothes, then climbed onto the bed resuming the position they'd been in before, straddling his waist on her knees. She lowered her chest to his, coming to rest her elbows above his shoulders so that her face hovered above his, allowing her to be as close to him as possible. His eyes were locked on hers, and their mouths were as close as could be without touching, as she reached between her legs to take hold of him and guide him into her, watching as he clenched his eyes shut and released a sharp breath as his full length slid in. She began to grind on him slowly, just as she'd said she would, clenching tightly around him and closing her eyes to focus on maintaining the slow rhythm despite the growing urge to just let go. She could hear his breathing quickening and feel his breath on her lips, letting her know that he was with her. He slipped his hand between them and applied pressure to her bud with the pads of two of his fingers; she gasped, eyes flying open to meet his with the sudden sensation of pleasure which he felt as well, letting out a low moan as she contracted around him. They worked in unison, focusing on each other and their mounting pleasure, until she came closely followed by him.

Michonne carefully rolled off of him and reached down for the frozen bag of peas at the end of the bed before lying back down on his good side, reaching over to place it on his eye before settling in with her arm draped across his chest and her chin resting on his shoulder as she looked up at him. From her vantage point, all she saw was one half of his handsome face and a smirk beginning to play on his lips.

"What was that called again? Quick and dirty?"

"Shut up," she groaned. "It was quick and gentle. I didn't want to break you in your delicate state."

"I'm not complaining. I feel much better, actually."

"So do I."

He turned his head to press a kiss to her forehead and let his eyes linger on hers for a moment, smiling softly at the sight of her big brown eyes staring back at him.

"I thought about you a lot this week," he said leaving the teasing behind for a moment of sincerity.

"Same here."

"You know, Lori and I were voted Cutest Couple our senior year of high school."

"OK..." she said hesitantly, finding it a very odd thing to tell the naked woman lying beside him."You sure you didn't get a concussion, too?"

"No," he said chuckling at her question, before continuing seriously. "It goes back to that question you asked me at the bar that one night. Where did you start and where did you end?"

"Right."

"Lori and me had the ideal start in a lot of people's opinions, but look how it ended."

"And we didn't," she responded catching the drift of his story.

"Not at all. So maybe there's something to be said for that."

"Maybe...hopefully. All I know is that we won't be winning any cutest couple awards with you looking like that," she said with a wink.

"You told me it wasn't that bad."

"I may have told a little white lie."

"Yeah, well I may have found you out once I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror," he said beginning to yawn through the last few words.

"We'll get you back to yourself in no time. I love that handsome face too much to let anything happen to it."

She bit down on her lower lip as soon as she realized she'd said the L word; although innocently enough, it was still a loaded word to use with this man in this situation. She'd hoped he hadn't noticed, but she saw a smug grin begin to erupt on his face, and felt the need to clarify lest he get any ideas.

"I just meant that you have quite a handsome face that I enjoy looking at...very much."

"Of course," he said nodding his smug, handsome, beat up face.

"Aren't you tired? You should rest."

"Not really. I'm feeling wide awake now," he teased.

"Rest," she insisted.

"OK..." he said closing his eyes. "But am I gonna get frostbite if I leave this thing on too long?"

"I won't let that happen. I'm looking out for you and that face of yours."

"Mmm hmm," he mumbled as he nuzzled his face against her, settling in to try to sleep some as instructed. "You make me so happy," he whispered into her cheek where his face rested against hers before going quiet, his breathing soon turning into a light snore.

She laid in bed looking at the ceiling, smiling to herself, because despite all of the drama and obstacles, she couldn't deny that she was happy, too.

"What are you doing here?"

Shane peered at his unexpected guest, his body filling the space between the doorframe and the cracked door.

"Hi."

Michonne tread lightly knowing that she was an unexpected visitor, and most likely, unwelcome, as well. She took him in; he was tense, but physically unscathed compared to Rick. He remained in place, silently looking at her, awaiting answer to his question, his unforgiving stare making her question why she thought it was a good idea to stop by his place on her way out of town.

"I, uh...I felt like we should talk, and thought maybe you were feeling the same way."

He snorted and shook his head at her assumption, directing his eyes to the late afternoon sky before looking back at her.

"Only if you want to, that is. It's your call," she said evenly.

He tossed a glance back into his house then quietly shut the door behind him before stepping out onto the porch to join her.

"You come here to try to smooth things over between me and Rick? Because that ain't gonna happen."

"No, I came here for me and you."

"Doin' some damage control?" he asked snidely.

"No."

"Well, I'm not sure there's much else for you to say. Your boyfriend did a pretty good job of speaking for you."

Michonne nodded slowly, as he confirmed her suspicions about Rick's reluctance to share the details of their argument with her. He'd told her to let him deal with the mess, and it was clear that he was trying to shield her from all of the fall out.

"I have no idea what was said because Rick wouldn't tell me, and that's not what I'm here for. Whatever happened between you two is between you two. As for anything said on my behalf? I'm the only one who speaks for me."

He dropped his hands from his waist, relaxing his posture as he sighed, before taking a seat on the top step of his front porch. She watched him cautiously for a moment before easing herself down slowly to take a seat next to him. He stared out over his yard, as he absently picked at a hangnail on his thumb.

"Why'd you string me along, Mitch?" he asked still staring straight ahead.

"I didn't. The minute I realized we didn't want the same things anymore, I called it off."

"So you could move on with my best friend?"

"No. It's true that I started to feel something for Rick around the same time, but I walked away from all of it. I didn't want to cause problems here."

"Until you ran into him a few weeks later."

He filled in the rest of the story from what Rick had told him yesterday morning, and she nodded to confirm.

"Can I ask why him?" He finally looked at her, all anger and posturing dropped.

"Shane..."

"I'm serious."

"You were funny, kind, attentive...you did nothing wrong. I had a great time with you, and that's not me bull shitting you. You were the first guy I opened up to after my break up, and I'll always hold a special place in my heart for what we had. It just comes down to a connection."

"I really thought we had a connection."

"We did, but it was different. I can't really tell you how. It's just this intangible thing."

"Nah, I get it."

She gave him a weak smile, thankful that he seemed to be able to hear her which was all she'd hoped for. She stared out over his yard, squinting her eyes to protect them from the glare of the sun as it had begun to set.

"I don't want to overstep my boundaries, but I hope you don't see this as something he did to you. It was a mutual thing and my decision just as much as it was his."

Shane nodded, and she took his silence as a sign of acceptance.

"You happy?" he asked.

"I'm not happy with the way it happened, but I'm happy with Rick, yes. Very happy."

"Hey Babe? I've been looking all over for you. Dinner's ready."

Michonne and Shane turned at the sound of the voice to find a pretty, petite redhead standing in the open front door, her mouth slightly ajar and eyes wide in surprise at her finding.

"Susie, this is Michonne. Rick's girlfriend," he said as he stood from his spot and walked toward her.

"Oh, I didn't know you had company."

Michonne stood, as well, extending her hand out to shake the other woman's.

"Hi. It's nice to meet you. I was just on my way out actually," she explained before turning to Shane. "Thanks for letting me run that by you," she said vaguely unsure of what his companion knew or didn't know. "I'll see you around?"

"Yeah."

She pressed her lips in a tight smile, nodding them both a goodbye, before turning and making her way out to her car.

"Look! More, Mama!"

Lori and Michonne turned from their places at the kitchen counter at the sounds of Judith's voice to find her standing there in her little lavender sundress proudly holding up her Easter basket for them to see, although, the trip tropping sound of her little tan boots hitting the hardwood floor alerted them to her impending arrival before she made her entrance.

"You found all those by yourself, baby?" Lori asked.

"And daddy."

Michonne grinned, amused by her honesty, and looked up to see Rick entering the kitchen, coming up behind his daughter.

"There were two dozen, right?" he asked.

"Yep," Lori answered.

"All accounted for then."

"Thank God."

Lori turned back toward the counter and picked up her knife again to resume slicing the vegetables for Easter lunch. Instead of resuming her prep work, Michonne looked at Rick questioning the exchange she'd just witnessed given that the Easter egg hunt had ended couple of hours ago.

"Oh, yeah, we had an incident a few years ago where we didn't find all the eggs until a few weeks later, so we always do a second run through now. Make sure we got 'em all," he said with a grimace as he recalled the discovery.

Lori stopped working, laughing to herself at the memory. She looked to Michonne to clue her in on the rest of the story.

"The smell was just awful. I was going crazy trying to figure out what it was. I cleaned obsessively, turned this place upside down looking for the cause..."

"Tried to pin it on me and Carl, sayin' we had smelly feet," Rick inserted as he grabbed the egg carton from the fridge to put away his and Judith's final haul of the last few Easter eggs.

"I told you I was at a loss," she defended before returning her attention to Michonne. "So anyways, I finally found the sources, weeks old Easter eggs in the back of one of the kitchen cabinets and under the tiny little space under grandfather clock out in the living room. And the two of us swear we never hid them there."

"Yeah, we always figured Carl re-hid them and just forgot about it or was too afraid to 'fess up," Rick added shaking his head at the memory.

"That's too funny," Michonne said smiling at Rick, enjoying the easy rapport the three of them had and appreciating being let in on the family moment. She turned back to the counter to get back to work.

"What can I do to help?" Rick asked knowing their family and friends would be showing up to Lori's house within the next couple of hours.

"You mind making that glaze for the ham and popping it in the oven?" Lori called out.

"Not a problem."

Michonne glanced over her shoulder, surprised to find Rick needing no direction and gathering the ingredients needed to get to work.

"You have your own glaze?" she asked incredulously.

"Yeah, I do," he answered matter of factly. "Don't act all surprised, you know I cook."

"Not like that."

He playfully stared at her while he brought his ingredients to the empty space on the counter just to her left and set them down.

"Well, you're gonna find out today," he said with a smirk. She nodded her head skeptically before quietly returning her complete attention to her duties that she kept getting distracted from, but also to keep herself from blatantly flirting with him in front of his ex-wife since that somehow felt wrong.

"Oh, there's something I wanted to tell you both once we had a moment. I ran into Susie Clemons at the grocery store yesterday," Lori said turning to regard them.

Rick and Michonne exchanged a quick look at the mention of her name.

"Oh yeah? What'd she have to say?" he asked nonchalantly.

"A lot, actually. She was chattier with me than she's ever been in her life. Told me she's moving in with Shane, that her boys will be living with them part-time, and that she's pregnant..." Lori trailed off, waiting for their reactions, knowing they'd likely be as surprised as she was, if not more so.

"First I've heard of it." Rick hadn't heard any chatter about it at the precinct, and hadn't so much as seen Shane except from a distance in passing since he'd requested reassignment months ago.

"She's gotta be early, wasn't showing at all, and they haven't even been together that long. What, maybe five months or so at this point?"

"Something like that," Michonne answered.

"Well, good for them."

"I'm not sure how it happened, but the conversation kind came to a point where I invited them to stop by this afternoon. I'm sorry, it just sort of came up when we were talking about the holiday. It felt like she was fishing for information a little bit."

"I wouldn't worry about it, Lori. There's no way they're comin' over," Rick assured her going back to his assigned duty.

"Hey you."

Rick turned to find Michonne stepping onto the front porch.

"Hey."

She walked up to where he was leaning against the white railing that lined the porch, stopping behind him to wrap her arms around his waist, pressing her body to his and resting her head on the middle of his back.

"You trying to get out of doing dishes?"

"No. You?"

"No." She smiled to herself at the way he turned it right back on her. "I needed to take a little breather before I hit that dessert table. I am so stuffed."

"I noticed you had at least two helpings of my ham."

"I've gotta admit, it was pretty damn good."

"Yeah, I know." He looked behind him to catch her eye then lifted his arm to invite her to come around and join him by his side. "So you're not overwhelmed by all of the people lining up to meet you in there?"

"Not at all. Everyone's been sweet..."

Michonne trailed off when she saw a familiar car pull up to the curb in front of Lori's house. She looked at Rick, seeing that he recognized it as well, before looking back at the people unloading from the car. She felt her stomach drop as she watched Shane, Susie, and two young red-headed boys begin walking up the path that led to the house. Despite Lori's invitation, she hadn't expected this moment to happen at all. Once she shook herself out of her stunned stupor, she rubbed Rick's arm in reassurance and began to make her way down to greet them. Shane's eyes met hers then traveled down to the ground, a look of unease on his face. Susie put on a huge smile, looking to Shane and then to Michonne, prodding her boys along ahead of her with a gentle hand on each of their backs.

"Hi," Michonne said directing her greeting as Susie. "I'm not sure if you remember me, but-"

"Michonne. I do," she finished with a smile. "Boys, this is Miss Michonne. This is Michael and this is Brandon."

Each of the boys looked her square in the eye, extending their hands to shake hers, and telling her it was a pleasure to meet her; their good Southern manners and upbringing quite evident.

"I hope it's alright that we're stopping by so late. We just had other obligations, but wanted to at least come say hello."

Rick watched the exchange from the porch, his eyes briefly catching Shane's before drifting back to the two women who were giving a gallant effort at making this visit as comfortable for all present as possible.

"It's no problem at all. We actually just finished our meal and were going to have some dessert in a bit. Did you eat dessert yet?" She asked looking at the two boys.

"No, ma'am," Brandon answered.

"Perfect timing then. There's a carrot cake in there that Rick's mom made, and it looks amazing. Let's head inside. I'm sure there are a lot of people who will be happy to see you."

She led the group upstairs, giving Rick an encouraging look and pat on the arm before she reached the front door.

He greeted Susie and her boys before they walked ahead into the house with Michonne leaving Shane and him on the porch alone. They stood facing each other, looking anywhere but the other's eyes. Shane shifted his feet and ran a hand through his hair then let out a deep breath before he placed both hands on his hips, finally meeting Rick's eyes.

"It's been a long time."