A:N: Because it's Christmas and I couldn't resist. Enjoy and Happy Holidays!

Sophia

December 2013

It was the kind of dismal conversation that didn't have a particular place or time. It didn't belong on a nippy but still cheery night, five days before Christmas. Michonne would've preferred a hot Wednesday in the summer maybe, because saying what she had to say to Rick five days before Christmas undoubtedly added to the disheartened feeling she'd been trying to stave off for the past two days.

The brightly decorated houses with hollies on the front doors, the moonlight basking the street in the famous beauty and wonder that usually descended the earth at Christmas all felt like an ominous backdrop to the already bleak atmosphere twirling around Rick and Michonne. The romantic beam the street light cast on them did nothing to ease the gripping sense of finality from her conscience.

She had finally found love, but it was a bit late.

The holidays were supposed to be about quality time with friends and family. Not preparing to say goodbye to the only life she knew. Michonne grasped Rick's hand, struggling between holding onto it and letting go of it. She was making a hard choice, a choice she never thought she would have to make. Her dreams were holding her at ransom, reminding her of the promises she once made to herself, but love, love was being auctioned off at a low price. To win at one she had to lose at one. She felt defeated both ways.

"You know how much I love you Rick..."

"Yeah, I know." The intensity of Rick's stare was enough to make her surrender to his plight then and there, but he wouldn't want that for her, for them. Not after she'd worked her butt off to get the internship other people only dreamed about.

"So you must know how hard this is for me?" Hot tears spilled onto her cheeks, the very ones she was trying to hold back.

"It wasn't supposed to be like this. I had plans for us." Rick said, his voice husky, clogged with disappointment. Michonne could see his eyes glistening under the guilty glare of the streetlight. The call that had changed her life, only came in a few days ago. She was getting her affairs in order, readying herself for a new chapter in the book of her life. Leaving Rick was the last thing she wanted to do, but they were on two different paths career wise, like parallel lines unable to meet. There was no miracle that would let her have the two things she wanted most in life.

"It wasn't." Things didn't always go according to plan. She of all people knew that first-hand. What was the line about man making plans and God laughing about said plans?

"What if I told you I was gonna ask you to marry me?" Rick fingered the ring in his pocket. It was a few days before Christmas, five days before he actually planned to propose to Michonne in front of all their friends and family. Something - he didn't know what it was - made him tuck the black box into his jeans pocket on his way over to the Anthony's.

Michonne was stunned by Rick's admission, she swallowed and rubbed her forehead. She pulled her double breasted coat tighter against her, trying to ward off the chill and the plunging pool of sadness that had gripped her.

"Let's not do this." The shoulda, woulda, coulda's were going to be the death of her.

She had to find hope, even if she knew it would cripple her. It was only a year. They would survive a year.

"That's a lame cop out and you know it." Rick tone was flat. He knew she didn't believe him. Rick was settled on Michonne from the moment he laid eyes on her. She was the one who needed to catch up, but he would never stand in the way of her dreams. He wouldn't ever want her to look at him with regret or remorse.

"It's only one year Rick." Time would fly by quickly. She didn't think she was in a position to ask him to wait. "Can you wait for me?" She did anyway. This wasn't a permanent goodbye, it couldn't be. She'd be back in Georgia before she knew it. Then they could start planning their life together.

"Can you?" Rick eyed her speculatively. He wouldn't ask her to choose. He knew how important her career was to her. He understood this was something she needed to do. He would wait for her forever if he had to. Michonne was always destined for great things. The little town they called home had a limitation on great things so even when they met and fell in love six months ago her eyes were still roaming outside for greatness.

He knew, he always knew he wouldn't be enough to sustain her.

"Tell me I'm doing the right thing." She was crying, hot tears streamed down her cold cheeks like a waterfall.

"Don't do this Michonne. Don't put this on me. You're the one walking away here." The tall light above them couldn't hide the fullness in Rick's eyes. "I'd fight for you, for us you know that." Rick didn't think he had anything to prove. Michonne knew how he felt about her. She was never one of those women that needed a man to swoop in on a horse to save her.

"Just let me do this one thing Rick." She held onto the lapels of his jacket in a tight grip. If she didn't get his blessing on this, it would haunt her forever.

"I'd never stand in the way of your dreams." Even if her dreams were gonna cost him his.

"I know you won't."

"What am I going to say to Carl?" Rick wasn't really asking her, he just threw the question out hoping the universe would give him the appropriate response.

Carl was the other half of her heart, when she met Rick at a Carnival Sasha and Maggie dragged her to all those months ago, she wasn't expecting to fall in love with him or his four year old son. Now he was a piece of her as much as Rick was. Leaving them wasn't going to be easy.

"You two can come out to visit."

"You know I'm up for the Sheriff's Deputy position. I'm not sure we'll have time to come out to L.A." he dragged the last two words, she sensed on purpose. The City Of Angels was taking his.

Rick was content with the life he had. He had dreams and goals but they were contained within the perimeters of King County. Home and family - that's what success meant for him. He didn't understand why Michonne had to leave to find hers. He knew her like the back of his hand though, she always had to go her way first. Hopefully in finding her way, she could find theirs.

It's not that she didn't want to be Rick's wife, she just didn't want to be only Rick's wife. She knew it was unfair to spring this on him the day before she left, but time wasn't on her side. Everything had been a mad rush since she got that phone call. Rosita Espinosa was an established fashion designer that catered for the everyday woman wanting a little fantasy in their lives. Michonne had applied three times for the internship of her dreams. It was surreal when she received the call from Ms. Espinosa herself saying her persistence was persuasive in her selection. Rosita was piqued on Michonne's idea of a selective woman of color line and promised Michonne once her internship was halfway through she could make a pitch. It was a dream come true and not one she was going to take lightly. She usually went with her gut, but even her gut was failing her in assuring she was making the right choice. She just had to trust that she was doing the right thing. She hoped walking away from Rick for a year would be worth it.

"A lot can happen in a year Michonne." He wanted to have faith, but everything felt so final.

"We'll Skype and facetime and call, it would be like we're never apart."

Rick gathered her close, just in case it was the last time he was able to do so. She was going to be a big time fancy fashion designer, he was sure of her success as he was his love for her. He just didn't think there was room in that success for him. He tried not to think it was selfish wanting to believe he could be all that she needed, but when compared to the bright lights and all the appeal of the big city he knew he'd lost.

He would give her the benefit of the doubt. He would wait.

"I love you." His tone was dulcet as he claimed her lips in a possessive dance. Her arms went around him, then into his curls. Rick tightened the hold he had on her small waist. Michonne melted in Rick's arm's like a block of ice in the midday sun. She knew she would never find this feeling anywhere else in the world.

"I love you too," she said, when they finally let up for air.

"I'll wait. I'll always wait for you Michonne." He touched her cheek with his fingers drying her tears, relishing in the softness. Michonne was by far the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. He wanted to be her husband. He wanted to have five more kids with her. They deserved that future.

She leaned into him again, needing to be close.

"You think we could still try to enjoy the night?" They had a house full of their favorite people inside. She watched her dad struggle with the giant blown up santa on the front lawn. Her parents were Christmas freaks, too much wasn't enough; they believed in excess for Christmas. She wasn't as obsessed with the holiday, considering her happiness was the result of a bitter trade off made in the heart of the season known for believing in the impossible. She certainly didn't believe in Santa Claus, not since she was six years old. Nor was she a subscriber to the sentimental drivel that usually came with the commercialized festivities.

"I should go help him," Rick said, releasing her hand. She let go reluctantly, wanting to be selfish and hold onto Rick for a little while longer. Even if she was being that way, Rick wasn't. Rick Grimes wasn't a selfish man.

She watched the two most important men in her life adjust Santa and his Elves on the neatly trimmed yard. Michonne stuffed her hands in her pocket, trying to smile through the breaking of her heart.

Twelve months would fly by. She'd be back soon enough and she and Rick could start their lives together.A strong wind swept through the street, bringing a gush of doubt with it. If she was making the right decision then why did she feel so empty inside?

December 2018

"London? Are you serious?" Michonne was slacked jawed. She leaned back into the over priced office chair opposite her good friend and boss, Rosita, still in disbelief. She was thrilled at the prospect, scared of the change.

"As a heart attack, you've already proven your worth to this company Michonne. Now it's time you reap the rewards."

"I don't know what to say." She bit her lip as she deliberated on what the possibilities a relocation like this could mean for her. Big Ben and the London eye were attractions she always wanted to see. Her last visit across the pond had been for the London fashion show the year before. It didn't afford her the time to sightsee. That would change if she was living in London.

"Say yes. You're a free woman with nothing to hold you back. Not even Mike." Rosita was sporting a no-nonsense high bun today, with her infamous diamond encrusted gold hoops. She was style with legs even on her worst days.

Michonne got the message her boss was sending her way, even if she was pontificating.

Everyone was aware of her relationship with Mike. Everything had passed from HR's end, which was important to Michonne because it was important to her integrity to be above board. The company's fraternization policy was not strict, but she didn't want to cut any corners.

What she and Mike had never got in the way of their work. They were both driven in their fields and they had a friendly competitive rivalry going on in their projects. Mike always wanted the best for her, then again Mike always wanted the best for himself too.

Michonne wasn't sure how he would take the news. If she decided to take the offer that is. She smoothed her pink satin, pussy bow blouse, wishing for an ounce of the confidence the get up usually gave her in droves. "When do I have to decide?"

"Take the weekend. Weigh it out. I want you in London by New Years."

Michonne eyed Rosita with speculation. She wasn't the friendliest in the beginning, but the two forged an uncharted friendship. Despite their obvious difference in work levels she appreciated Rosita's loyalty.

"Wow, that fast huh?"

"I need to know you're in this Michonne. I love all your designs, but you're ability to get things done and still stay detached is exactly why I want you heading up the London office."

Michonne knew what it all meant, five years at Last Woman On Earth and she'd taken lead on several fashion campaigns over the years. Once her internship was completed, she was offered a position as Rosita's assistant. She successfully launched a series of her own designs on a small scale; from her sexy lingerie to full figured sports apparel lines she was on her way to doing her own thing soon enough. Michonne was constantly working on building her brand, while she wasn't a perfectionist she took pride in the tasks she was given, completing most before the deadline with little to no errors.

This impressed Rosita. She got the offer in writing and Rosita told her she'd be a loss to LWOE if she went back to Georgia. Michonne had to leave some things, people in the past to achieve her success. She felt like the decision was made for her when she returned home two years later. Rick was done waiting, done with the false hope. Heartache born from her choices cemented her decision to return to Los Angeles as quickly as she'd returned to King County.

A few months after, she met Mike; a rising Ad Executive Rosita hired to bring some new blood into the company's Marketing department. There was a good chance if she took the opportunity and went to London, she could be partner in a year or Rosita could give her carte blanche on her own line. She could form her own company. The possibilities were endless. Excitement coursed through her veins.

It's what she always wanted. So why was there a feeling of sadness in the pit of her belly?

"Are you coming to the Christmas party?" Rosita asked, walking around her large desk, sauntering to the wide windows overlooking the hub of the city. Rosita was always selective in what she wore, today she pulled off a leather crop top with a black high waisted pencil skirt, appropriately penned The Rosita skirt.

"Wasn't really planning on it. You know I'm not big on Christmas." Michonne shrugged, she wasn't in the mood for the grand Christmas affair. She wanted to pretend another Christmas wasn't looming. She felt like Scrooge, Bah humbug indeed!

She didn't have the optimum energy required to plaster on a fake smile and schmooze with the who of who's in the fashion industry. "Plus I have to run this by Mike. See what he thinks."

Rosita shifted her gaze to Michonne, seeing the unease on her face. "I get that you're probably in love, it's something I was never able to obtain. It's just the price you pay for success sometimes. Run this by Mike, but don't make him think it's his decision." In an uncharacteristically weird gesture, Rosita held Michonne's chin, "Sometimes happiness comes with a price and Mike is cheap." The bold red lipstick on Rosita's lips matched the fire in her brown eyes, showcasing how much she believed in what she was saying.

Rosita was implying she couldn't have London and love, but she already knew the lyrics to the song playing. As if nothing affecting happened between them Rosita returned to the windows again, folding her arms. "Viola and Octavia are coming to the party, they both said they would love to see you again."

Michonne wasn't too big on the celebrity bit of her job. She had met a good collection of stars from the snotty to the down to earth, but she was all about the designs being brought to life.

"I'll think about it. " She didn't want to sound so closed off. She wasn't lying she was going to think about it.

"Do that. Take the rest of the day off. You look like a truck ran over you." Rosita smirked, which was rare. She mostly had one neutral facial expression.

Michonne dusted some imaginary dust off her Jimmy Choo brayden boots before she got up.

She masked her despondency well as she gathered her folder off the desk and headed out the office.

"Santa! You're going in the wrong direction!" Andrea blew out a breath, causing her blonde bangs to lift off her forehead making her look more comical than confused. Michonne's face lightened on sight when she saw Rosita's assistant chasing a Santa Claus down the festively decorated hall. "Don't go anywhere Mich, I'll be right with ya!" Andrea squealed, finally grabbing onto fake Santa, leading him to the elevator after giving him some rushed instructions. Santa turned in Michonne's directions and winked at her. A twinkle sound rang in Michonne's ears, similar to someone sprinkling fairy dust over her head like in a Disney movie. Which was hilarious because it was obviously impossible. She shook it off, glad that Rosita told her to take the rest of the day to relax.

Michonne sat behind Andreas's workstation, waiting surely on some new hot office gossip from the Editor in Chief herself on all things drama at LWOE. She was going to indulge the effervescent blonde, in much need of the distraction.

"I'm not sure why Spencer sent that man up here! The children's outreach is taking place on the twelfth floor!" Andrea was back, out of breath, trying to walk in heels that were too high and a skirt that was too short.

"Santa looked like he knew where he was going."

"He didn't, although he mumbled something about someone needing him or something or the other." she said dryly, ushering Michonne out of her brand new ergonomic chair. "Who died?" Andrea was only now taking in Michonne's lackluster facial expression.

"No one. Rosita wants me to head up the London office."

Andrea's face brightened instantly. "No shit! Yess! You deserve this Mich!"

Before Michonne could respond Santa returned again, this time Michonne noticed the mischievous glint in his eyes as he stepped off the elevator. Santa had familiar blue eyes. Blue eyes the color of a warm Caribbean sea. Blue eyes that she used to spend hours gazing into. Blue eyes she hadn't thought about in a while, because reminiscing about those blue eyes made her nostalgic every time she did.

"Rick! You need to go down two floors! Not up two floors!" Andrea reached for her desk phone. "Seriously I'm gonna kill Spencer!"

Santa's name was Rick? What were the odds? If it wasn't for Santa's silver gray hair and short stature Michonne would've been confused. Santa winked at Michonne. Again. She heard charms twinkling in her head. She was sure of it. She looked around, up and down the corridor, down the opposite hallway and came up empty. She wondered if Sales were playing a Christmas prank on her again.

After getting new directions Santa was on his way for the second time.

"You look like you've seen a ghost," Andrea said.

"Did you hear that?" She wanted to know if she was the only one.

"Hear what?" Andrea was clueless.

"Nevermind." Michonne checked her iPhone to see if Mike called or messaged. Nothing. "I had a Rick once," she blurted out.

Interest piqued, Andrea sat down and clasped her hands together, waiting on the story - she was sure there was one based on the serious, sincere tone Michonne had. Michonne laughed, Andrea was wide eyed and bushy tailed, as though she was waiting to hear the secret of life. "It's nothing. We were together and then we weren't."

"He cheated didn't he?" Andrea accused.

"He didn't. Not all men cheat Andrea."

Amy from Sales, Andrea's sister interrupted their conversation needing Michonne's signature on a sales invoice. When she was gone Michonne continued the trek into her past.

"I chose LA over him. I thought it was only going to be for a year. So we were...we were on hold." Michonne didn't know why she felt the need to bring up old dirt. She and Rick had both moved on. Curiosity made her wonder about what could've been when the nights were cold and lonely. Her heart felt empty despite her life being so full.

"Oh damn. I didn't know. I thought you and Mike were…"

"Mike is great, but we've only been dating three years." She thought Mike was going to propose this Christmas. He hinted enough at some big changes for the both of them. The fact she was undecided on what her response would be scared her a little. She had the job she always wanted with a guy that suited her needs. She made a name for herself. She had so much success but no fulfillment. It ate at her. She wondered why now?

"He didn't agree with me staying here after the internship. Said it was gonna ruin us." Michonne shrugged in remorse. Rick had been right. She knew some resentment piled up on her end because of it. Rick was always so sure about them. He was still willing then, but they couldn't come to a compromise that made it worth it for the both of them.

She loved him, she did, but she had to see what else was out there. In hindsight it may not have been an even trade off. Eventually the Skype calls lessened and phone calls become a thing of the past. She was even too busy at work to fly home for the holidays.

When she met Mike, they fell in sync because they both wanted the same things. Not even love was going to get in the way of that.

"Where is he now?"

"Last I heard he was dating someone." Sasha called to let her know, not wanting her to find out from anyone else. She didn't want to admit it to herself, but walking away from Rick may have been her biggest regret. She thought their love was always going to be true. The job she thought she wanted more than anything had cost her Rick. She had opted to trust her gut and not her heart.

"So you mean if you weren't here, you would've been married to this Rick? Is he good looking?" Andrea was curious, she was seconds away from doing a Facebook search.

"He's the most handsome man I've ever seen." She blushed at the image of Rick that popped in her head. "I don't know what we would've been, but I guess a part of me wonders what would've happened if I said yes to his proposal."

Andrea brushed her off with a wave of her hand, her popping red, almond nails hard to miss. "You mean this Rick proposed to you and you said no!"

"He didn't actually propose. He said he was going to. I guess I didn't believe him."

She wondered what kind of wife she would've made if he had. Would she have been a good mother to Carl? Would they have had more children? She couldn't even imagine herself being pregnant with Rick's baby. Those kind of trippy dreams seemed like a lifetime ago.

The thought of a future in London was making her nostalgic for what was, what could've been. What would her path look like now if she stayed in Georgia? Distance and time were their achilles heel. At least that was her rationale for why they couldn't be together.

Inherently she knew she was to be blamed.

"Does Mike know?" Andrea asked, sucking on a red lollipop.

"He doesn't. It's not something we talked about." She and Mike talked about work, mostly. He never was available to fly in to meet her friends or family the few times she was able to see her parents. Sasha claimed Mike was a ghost, which in a weird sort of way could be true.

"I guess I'd be wondering too. What do you think Mike would say when he hears you're going to London?"

"I haven't taken the job yet," Michonne said for no good reason. Andrea looked at Michonne, her blue eyes staring at her like she was Bigfoot. They both knew what Michonne's choice would be. Mike may not be very happy about the move. He would be happy for her, but he might be crushed this was the end of the line for them. It was proven she couldn't excel at long distance relationships.

She had to talk to him as soon as possible.

"Are you coming to the Christmas party? I've already planned if Ashton comes this year I'm gonna trip right in front of him and fall on his crotch." Andrea was making vain attempts to cheer up her friend.

Michonne looked defeated, she produced a lazy laugh covering half of her face with her hand. "Of course you are." Andrea was a special case sometimes. "I don't know if I'll come to the party."

"Maybe you should give this Rick a call. Hit him up. Say hi. You never know."

She waved Andrea off, walking to her office, a couple feet away from Andrea's cubicle.

"I don't think it makes sense now. I'm already too late. It would take a miracle."

"It's Christmas silly. The season for miracles." Andrea's phone rang, ending the conversation.

Shutting down her MacBook, Michonne grabbed another one of her designer handbags from her fancy desk and closed her office door.

It was time to go home.

Michonne was on her third glass of wine, when she heard Mike's signature knock on her apartment door. She fixed her messy bun, glad she opted for yoga pants instead of anything fancy just because Mike was coming over. She leaned on the frame seeing Mike's handsome face smiling back at her. He was holding a bottle of white wine despite the many times she said she preferred red. He was always dressed to the nines. The cost of his pricey designer shoes was enough to feed a small family.

"You're not answering my calls. You okay?" He gave her a kiss on the lips, walking into her chic apartment. Her high rise had been a steal of a deal and only twenty minutes from work. She had a great view of the city. She loved looking out her window at night when the place really came alive.

"I had a headache. I'm ok now." She sat on the single chair while Mike took the couch.

Compared to the busy larger than life Christmas decorations that were in every store , every office floor and in the lobby of her apartment building her space looked bland. The Christmas spirit had passed her by another year. She wasn't sure how she'd break the news about her potential move to London to her boyfriend.

"I heard congratulations are in order!" Mike set his arms flat out on the arm of the chair as he relaxed in the seat beaming at her like she'd won the lotto.

"You know?" she asked. The grapevine at the office worked faster than a freight train.

"Of course I know. Aren't you excited?"

"Aren't you upset? If I take this it would affect us."

"This is what you wanted, I'm happy for you babe. If anything I'd say I'm jealous. I'd love to work in London."

"Yeah I bet you would." Michonne felt foolish for thinking, for assuming Mike wanted their commitment to be something more substantial.

"What is it?"

She shook her head, trying to eliminate her hasty thoughts. "Nothing, it's just...you said you wanted to ask me something important. I assumed…" She was going to bother to finish her sentence. Mike straightened in the chair, focusing on her. A serious expression donned his face. "I was. I was going to ask you for us to move in together. It made sense for you to live with me." He looked around her apartment, it was always too small for his liking. " My place is bigger anyways. And I wouldn't have to drive thirty minutes to get to you. You know how much I hate downtown traffic."

Michonne felt like she was in a movie, and not the one where the girl got the guy in the end. The commitment she assumed she was going to get from Mike for Christmas was more of a convenience for him.

She let out a single, sarcastic Ha! into the atmosphere.

It hit her then, that all Mike really loved was his job. He didn't love her. It took her back to the night she told Rick she was leaving for LA and how much he fought her on it just because he couldn't stand to be without her. She let loose a dry laugh. She sat back on the chair needing the support. She was more alone than she thought. Her shoulders felt weighty, she let out an undignified yawn. Too numb to speak, she was ready to call it a night.

Mike reached for her, taking her hands, guiding her into his lap. "Michonne, we both knew one of us was gonna move on at some point." He caressed her back. For the first time in a long time she felt nothing under his touch. "What we had was great. I'll miss you, you know that."

"I'll miss you too Mike." Unlike the last time, she knew this was a final goodbye. Even if she didn't take the job in London.

"I'm tired can I call you later?"

"Yeah. Yeah of course. I just wanted to come congratulate you. You did good kid. You have everything you've always dreamed." Mike kissed her again, this one was more final than the last. "Get home safely."

"I'm headed into the office. I need to get some work done."

She checked her Cartier watch, an exorbitant gift from Mike on her birthday, "It's ten."

Mike shrugged, unapologetically. "You know this is the hour the genius comes out."

Not that she needed the reminder, but work would forever be a priority for Mike. She could see now the type of future they would have if she stayed with him; they would be living together, barely seeing each other. They would sit at the breakfast table in their stainless steel kitchen both reading the L.A times, but not uttering a word to each other.

A cold front passed through her body, she shuddered at the projection.

"Goodbye Mike." Closing her eyes, she leaned on the door when he was gone.

This wasn't the way she expected her life to turn out.

Michonne sat in front of the TV for a few minutes, pondering her life choices. She eyed the two LWOE throw pillows on her sofa. She felt like the butt of all jokes. Rosita's company and mantra was always dress like you're the Last Woman On Earth. Funny that's exactly how Michonne felt. She was the last woman on earth and she was single. Single and lonely.

Flipping through the channels she came across a local news station who had done a feature on their children's outreach. The same directionally challenged Santa was being interviewed by popular news anchor Ezekiel King. Santa seemed to be all about making the kids dreams' come true. Santa Rick looked at the camera, staring ahead at Michonne like he was speaking specifically to her. "The thing about Christmas is that it just isn't for the kids. Us grown ups have wish lists too. If you wish hard enough, your wish just might come true. Just trust your heart." Santa winked at her, or the camera, Michonne wasn't sure.

There was that sound again, like wind chimes blowing in the cool summer breeze on the front porch. It was surreal and creepy how direct his phrasing was considering all she could think about was what her life would've been like had Rick proposed to her six years ago.

It shouldn't affect her so much, but it did. London seemed promising, but she wanted a do over.

Michonne didn't believe in Santa, but she'd do anything to get a taste of what her life would've been like had she made another choice.

If she chose Rick.

Maybe it was her wine induced tipsiness that made her converse with invisible Santa or her porous heart that was desperate to feel something.

"Santa, I don't have much faith in you, but make my wish come true." Michonne snuggled with her blanket while the opening credits for It's A Wonderful Life began dancing across her screen. She was too too drowsy to cringe at the irony of it all.

Funny she remembered before drifting off that her mother used to say be careful what you wish for.