A/N: Another anon request from Tumblr. I'm really enjoying these, which is weird, because it's quite terrifying to write someone else's idea, lol. But I hope you like! Warning for smut and stuff. –Ash

Company

"Where you runnin' off to in such a hurry?"

Michonne's dreadlocks slap her in the face as she turns in surprise at the sound of Daryl's voice. Her thoughts are so focused on getting to the watchtower, she doesn't even notice him perched on their porch. "Shit, you scared me."

"My bad," he smirks, eyeing the length of her body. He notices she's dressed for work, toting her katana, but also what looks to be an overnight bag. "You goin' to a sleepover?"

"Overnight shift in the guard tower."

"That sucks," he notes, having done it himself a couple of times. "It gets cold out there."

"Hence the bag," she holds it up with a smile, a fleece blanket peeking from the top. "Sasha told me what to bring."

Daryl nods absently, trying to stop himself from getting lost in her smile. He noticed a long time ago that Michonne was an attractive woman, but the more he's seen her in this environment, outgoing and open, the more he's realized that he likes her personality. He had spent most of his time at Alexandria avoiding admitting that he had a crush on her. It sounded childish, for one, and he was pretty sure she never would've gone for him in a million years. So he chalked it up to lack of sexual attention and shook it off.

"I'm late. I was supposed to relieve Rick like twenty minutes ago," she winces. "I'll see you later?"

"Maybe I'll stop by and keep you company," he offers.

"Aren't you sweet." She smiles again, nearly knocking him off of his feet, and takes off for her destination.

She quickly makes her way through their neighborhood just as the sun is leaving the sky, smiling politely again as she approaches Spencer standing at his usual post at the gates. "Good evening," she greets him, thankful he's already pulling them open for her.

"Gonna be a cold one tonight," he nods towards her. "You gonna be all right?"

"I'll be fine," she promises. "I was on the run for an entire winter. One night'll be a cakewalk."

"I keep forgetting you guys are hardcore," he grins. "What time do you get off?"

"Not for twelve hours. You can head on home once Rick comes through."

"Yes, ma'am."

Michonne continues outside the gates, drawing her katana just in case of walkers, and swiftly skulks down the street to where she knows Rick has been waiting for her. She feels a strange twinge of relief when she finds him leisurely hanging out of one of the tower windows as if he has not a care in the world.

"You're late," he calls down to her, a smile tugging at his lips at the sight of her face.

"I brought dinner," she offers, hoping that will suffice as an apology.

"I'm more interested in dessert," he shoots back flirtatiously, his southern twang turned up a notch.

"You know people can hear you?"

"Who, Spencer?" He dismissively waves off the notion and turns his back to her, already preparing for her to make her entrance. "Get up here."

She does exactly that, sheathing her sword, entering her home for the night and advancing up the long staircase to meet Rick inside. He looks so sexy to her, leaned against the window, arms crossed over his chest, one leg crossed over the other, as if he's been waiting on her forever. She smiles and drops her bag to the floor, lingering in that same spot until he says something.

"Did you just drop our dinner on the floor?" he wonders, smiling confidently.

"I thought you just wanted dessert," she shoots back.

He finally walks over to her, that bowlegged gait of his driving her crazy, and wraps his arms around her waist to pull her close. "I missed you today," he says honestly as he stares her down, breathing against her lips. Those glorious lips of hers. They're just begging to be kissed, so he does, slow and hard, his tongue snaking out to lock with hers. She drapes her arms over his shoulders, her hands at his neck, pulling him closer, deepening the contact. The act is still so new to them, every time they touch feels like the first time. She's still not used to it. Still has to wonder what this experience will be like. And that's part of the excitement. The chase was fun, but nothing has compared to the feeling of being completely enchanted by one another.

"How long do we have?" she asks once they come up for air.

He doesn't bother to check his watch when he replies, "I got time."

Less than an hour later, Michonne is leaned over the lone desk in the room, her breasts hanging out of her bra, grazing the cold surface as Rick's mouth explores her backside. She can feel him everywhere, the soft scratch of his beard between her thighs, his tongue licking at her slit and then moving upwards, between her cheeks. His hands roughly squeezing her luscious ass as he eats his dessert, so to speak. She's biting her bottom lip, trying to hold onto her sanity, but the pleasure is taking her over the edge.

She's in so much wonderful agony, she has to rest her head on the desk, her face flush against the tabletop. "Yes," she moans out, unable to say anything more. His tongue slides back up from her pussy at the precise moment she feels a cold gust of air, and she lifts her head to see Daryl staring back at her. "Shit," she calls out, and she can't avoid locking eyes with him.

He stands there stupefied, just long enough to understand what's happening. It's dark, but not too dark to see Michonne's chocolate tits standing at attention. She's half naked, Rick on his knees behind her. He immediately mumbles a practically inaudible apology and turns to let the door close.

Rick hesitantly pulls back, distracted by the sound of the door. "What was that?"

"If you stop, I will murder you," she retorts, feeling tortured in more ways than one.

"You didn't hear that?"

"It was Daryl," she nearly shouts in frustration. "Keep. going."

He frowns, unable to imagine what Daryl could've possibly wanted if it weren't an emergency. But with Michonne's wet pussy staring him in the face, it's quite hard for Rick to care about anything else. He moves back to his position beneath her, continuing to lick her clean.

Michonne's head is spinning, and she's feeling delightfully sated by Rick's immaculate tongue work. He's standing behind her now, close, and she can feel the movements of him undoing his pants. The sound of his belt buckle clinking as it hits the floor. His hands are warm as he pulls her closer, against his stiffened cock. His tongue runs along the back of her ear as he fondles her nipples, erect between his fingers. She melts into him.

As he begins to stroke his dick, teasingly grazing her ass, she leans down into the desk, her hands pressed firmly into the wood, and she spreads her legs once more for him. She waits with baited breath as he glides the head into her slowly, both of them groaning softly at the tight fit. She bites her bottom lip and begins to rock her ass against him as he thrusts into her at a steady pace. He holds her hips, filling her completely with every plunge into her wet center. He softly taps her ass, loving the way it bounces against his hand.

He increases his speed soon, and he's pounding into her as she whimpers quietly at the intense pleasure. His breathing becomes ragged as his swollen dick pumps into her faster and faster, the two of them fucking so hard, the desk begins to move. He slows to a nearly glacial pace, rolling his hips into her erotically, driving Michonne absolutely crazy. Her insides feel like they're on fire.

"Oh god," she sighs happily.

"Michonne..." He squeezes her ass as that familiar warm feeling shoots through him, cursing as his orgasm takes over. "Fuck, fuck, fuck."

She clenches her walls around him once more, feeling just how wet she is, shaking her head. "You…" She can't even say anything else.

"No, you," he chuckles tiredly. He doesn't want to move, but he does, giving her ass a quick kiss before lying back on the desk for a few beats. He needs to recover.

She grins and hops onto the desk with him, pulling on her panties and buttoning her shirt once more. "Why didn't we start doing this sooner?" she wonders.

"I don't know, but I'm glad we started."

"I bet you are."

He laughs again, sitting up to retrieve his pants, along with one of the blankets she'd brought from home. Once he finishes re-dressing, he moves to wrap the wool cover around her. "I'll come back once I get the kids settled," he offers, rubbing her shoulders. "So you can get some sleep."

"You don't have to," she says, trying to contain a smile as she realizes he wants to take care of her. "They haven't seen you all day. I'll be fine."

"I know," he nods emphatically. He's well aware she can handle herself, but it doesn't mean that she has to. "But I'm gonna come back anyway."

This time, she doesn't bother to hide her smile. She likes his company, and she's glad that he knows it. That he likes hers, too. "Good."

When Rick returns home, he's a strange mixture of relieved and nervous to see Daryl parked on the front porch - his usual resting place whenever he's at home. He's smoking a cigarette and staring out into oblivion, from what Rick can tell. "Hey," he greets him tentatively.

"Surprised to see you back already," Daryl comments wryly as Rick makes his way up the steps.

With his hands stuffed in the pockets of his jacket, he looks down to his boots for a moment before nodding at Daryl knowingly. "I planned to be back earlier," he says sincerely. "But time got away from us."

"I bet."

"How much did you see?"

"Enough to know why 'Chonne's been walkin' around with that stupid grin on her face," he mumbles, only half joking.

Rick only smiles in spite of himself in response.

"How long this been goin' on?"

With a thoughtful sigh, Rick plops into the seat across from his bud and sits back as he calculates the time. "About a month, I guess." He licks his lips and they still taste like Michonne. "It's still new," he quietly adds.

He nods, seeing how he would've missed that, being gone so often. He puts out his cigarette in the adjacent ashtray, throwing the butt into it as well, then looks at Rick expectantly. "I didn't even know you liked her like that..."

"I didn't either," he admits with raised eyebrows to emphasize his point. "We didn't know, I guess I should say. Until one night, we did."

"Just like that, huh?"

It's then that Rick detects a hint of something in his voice that he can't quite pinpoint. He isn't sure if it's sarcasm or just a weird playfulness, but he studies Daryl for a bit to try and figure it out. "You all right?"

"Besides the fact that I just saw you eatin' ass? Yeah man, I'm fine."

Rick's face turns a bright shade of red, which he's thankful is hidden under the cloak of darkness, and he laughs out loud. "Why did I think you would never bring that up?"

"I'm gonna bring it up every chance I get," Daryl scoffs. "It ain't often I get somethin' to hold over your head."

Rick shrugs indifferently, still chuckling. Michonne's ass was pretty magnificent, after all. "No regrets, man."

"I always thought that was like a myth you only see in pornos."

He stares back at Daryl curiously, somewhat surprised that his limited experience in the bedroom still somehow exceeds Daryl's. "Well with the right person, you'll do just about anything."

"Guess so," he mumbles distractedly, staring out to the house across the street from them. "So am I the last to know? Or the first?"

"The second," Rick answers quickly. "Tara caught us at the Halloween thing..."

He chuckles quietly while playing with the frayed end of the wicker seat he's sitting in. "And y'all still ain't more careful, huh?"

"It's not really a secret," he shrugs. "We just haven't told anyone."

"That's a secret, man."

"I think we just wanted to make sure it wasn't goin' away."

He nods receptively, his eyes darting up to the man he respected so much, not just as a leader, but as a friend. As much as he liked Michonne, or thought he did, he knew that she and Rick were probably a far better match. For starters, there was no way in hell he was tossing anyone's salad. "And it ain't?"

Rick smiles at the thought that he just might've found a happy ending in Michonne. He can't think of anything he'd like better. "No… this is definitely the beginning of something."