A/N: These will be a collection of Richonne-centered one-shots. It'll be similar to those of you who follow "Loosen Your Corset, Princess" in the sense that I wanted a single place to post all the one-shots of our beloved couple as opposed to posting a thousand one-shots. I will be accepting prompts, of course, but PLEASE leave them in a Review as opposed to PMing me for book-marking purposes. Thank you SO very much! Also, I always love it when people ask for sequels or an elaboration based on a one-shot I've already posted. I don't mind AU and/or Crossover stories, either.

Prompts are based off of first come, first serve bases. REMEMBER TO LEAVE IN A REVIEW.

Thank you, and I look forward to interacting with all of you, and taking this Richonne journey with you all.

As always, I am not Robert Kirkman (thank GOD) or Scott Gimple (thank JESUS) so TWD or its characters do not belong to me. If it did… well I think we'd all be much happier.

ENJOY! =]

-idcabtthisish (formerly thamockingjayandpeeta)

I always wanted to get inside of Rick's head when he first sees Michonne in her new uniform in "Forget". I'd like to think that when he first sees her, he's taken aback. In the most hopeful depths of my soul, Rick being a Sherriff before the Turn HAS to still mean something to him. Granted it doesn't seem like it. 5B and ALL of season 6 Rick has REALLY shown his ass (don't get me started on his un-appreciation for Morgan's cell – for heaven's sake he used to be a cop! Surely he can appreciate Morgan's stance on this) but anyway, in my mind, it means something to him.

FIRST DAY ON THE JOB

Rated K

Rick stared at the jacket, shirt, and tie, and wondered what in the hell it all meant. The three articles of clothing stood out against the white of his sheets, and Rick found himself reminiscing about life before the Turn: him and Shane, deciding to join the police academy together, passing their tests, becoming beat cops, and slowly but surely climbing their way up the latter.

This uniform used to mean something to him.

He wasn't sure it still did. So much had changed…. At one point he vaguely remembered saying that they didn't kill the living, and now…. Now he'd lost track of how many people he'd killed just to be here in, this moment.

Things were different now.

"You gon' find yourself a place where it's like how it used to be." Bob's voice started to ring in Rick's ear. It wasn't the first time, and he knew it wouldn't be the last. "And if you let too much go along the way, that's not gonna work. 'Cause you gon' be back in the real world."

"This is the real world, Bob," Rick had tried to argue.

"Nah, this… is a nightmare. And nightmares end."

He still wasn't sold on Bob's way of thinking, but it was his way of thinking that had the rest of his people settling inside these walls. It was that same thinking that had him at odds with his best friend.

Yet the uniform was familiar, but Rick wasn't sure it was in all the right ways. This uniform reminded him of another time, another place, another life.

He thought about his hat, the hat the Carl still held so tightly to, even after all this time. That hat still meant something to Carl, so Rick knew what it is he had to do. He had to put this uniform on, for his son's sake, because Alexandria needed to work. Alexandria had to work.

Rick unwrapped the towel from around his waist and started getting dressed. It would take some getting used to, but he'd put on this uniform and parade around this town because that's what Deanna wanted. If they wanted a show, he'd give them a show.

He'd just finished tying his tie when Daryl knocked on his door.

"You ready?" asked Daryl.

Rick nodded. "Yah, almost."

"Good. Carol's downstairs waitin'." Rick nodded again and Daryl walked off.

He grabbed the black jacket, the jacket that was so familiar yet still completely foreign, and put it on.

He didn't glance into the mirror. He didn't see the point. He hardly recognized himself anymore.

He thought it made sense, figuring he barely recognized the world anymore.

He made his way downstairs where he would sneak out of Alexandria and into the woods.

Most of him felt unashamed about what it is he, Carol, and Daryl were about to do.

But some part of him, a small piece of him that remembered his previous life, the minute part of him that thought this uniform might still mean something to him, felt guilty as he made his way back into Alexandria, a plan between the three of them. And even though he knew it was a good plan, even though he knew it was the right thing to do, he couldn't help but feel as if he were turning into a dirty cop.

…

Back in her own room Michonne was feeling slightly self-conscious. She hadn't had to look at herself in what felt like forever. Before the Turn she'd always been confident. She cultured, intelligent, beautiful, artistic. She could wear the hell out of a dress and a pair of a jeans.

Now… now she was staring at herself dressed as a police woman, promising to protect a group of people she hardly even knew. Sure they were trying their hardest to make her feel welcome, but at the end of the day… she didn't know them, and they didn't know her.

Her group… her family… they'd earned her protection, and she would happily defend them with her life. But these Alexandrians… at some point they were going to have to step up.

This uniform meant something to them, so it had to mean something to her. It had to.

It fit well enough – not that this was a fashion statement. Michonne was used to things fitting. She was a woman, a real woman, a woman with curves in all the right places, so normally whatever she put on worked.

But she wasn't used to this. This… was different.

She just didn't know if it was the damn uniform or the damn town.

She turned sideways to get a good look at herself, noticing the strings hanging from the back of her jacket. She grabbed her katana and sliced the thread, and then stared at her sword.

The sword had saved her life on many occasions, but it had also caused her great heartache. This sword, for all its good uses, had killed Hershel, and it had taken her a long time to get over that.

She had had to remember that it was also the same sword that had saved Rick's life.

She stared at it, sighing, wondering if she'd need it here.

Before she could make up her mind, Rick walked by.

She wasn't sure why suddenly she was nervous. She hadn't been nervous in years. She hadn't had a reason to be. But having him suddenly round the corner, briefly looking her over, had her face warming.

She blinked rapidly, noting him in his own uniform.

It looked good on him. It suited him.

But she knew. Just from looking at him, she knew: he didn't buy into it anymore.

That, she knew, was going to be a problem.

…

He found himself pleasantly surprised when he saw her standing there, dressed and ready for her first day on the job. He thought he might need to give her a pep talk – maybe she'd be nervous – but seeing her in that uniform took away any doubt he might have had.

His breath caught in his throat – just a little, just enough for him to realize that he was having a hard time swallowing, but he didn't know why.

What he did know was that she was born for this. This was her element. Her ability to adapt to any situation that she felt comfortable enough to adapt to… hell, she'd be damn near unstoppable.

The uniform looked good on her. He wondered if she'd be offended if he told her that it was made for her. For all their differences before the Turn, seeing her dressed like this convinced Rick that this moment, right here, was her destiny.

She'd be a force to reckoned with out there. No one would dare cross her, and he nearly pitied whoever might try.

In the back of his mind, he realized that that had to include him.

Any thought that he might have shared his plan with her went out the window when he saw her in that uniform. She wanted this place, he remembered.

And damn it, Rick realized as he stared at her in that uniform, she deserved it. She deserved it as much as any of them. She was willing to do the work. She needed to fit in.

Still, he couldn't help but voice his opinion. Some of it, at least.

"I don't know if this is some kinda play, handing authority to strangers," he told her, leaning against the doorframe.

"The authority to break up fistfights," said Michonne, cocking her head to the side.

"If it was that she shoulda given one of these to Daryl."

Michonne shook her head and gave him a soft smile. It was such a rare thing to see, Michonne smiling, at least when it came to him. Carl or Judith could get her to smile at the drop of a hat. And as of lately, he understood that the two of them were truly at odds. She wanted to be here, and he didn't.

"So we're going. All of us." Her words had been definite and had left no room for argument, so he had followed her, because the group had wanted to.

They were adapting – most of them. Him? Not so much.

"I don't know if this is for us, or for them," admitted Michonne, bringing him back to the present. "Or maybe Deanna's trying to get rid of us and them. You put these jackets on me and you, have the people see it. If that's the play, that'd be smart. And she seems smart."

"Smart for then or smart for now?" Rick asked.

Michonne stared at him. "This is now."

Rick froze and looked at her.

It was that moment that realize that he definitely couldn't tell her.

She would do what she had to in order to make this place work.

He had to respect that.

He had to remember that.

He wouldn't tell her. He couldn't tell her.

For now, he'd let her have her moment.

The uniform looked too damn good on her. And if it bought her peace for the time being, then so be it. When it all went to shit – and it would go to shit – he could only hope that she'd still be on his side.

That she would still be his right hand man, despite the uniform, despite the title.

Despite the job.