A/N

Bringing the second part of this dynamic tale is Comewithnattah. She's known for putting her own spin on things and this chapter is no different. Nattah always brings the heat so let's dig in and see what she has in store.

-We're The Ones Who Write

Shane was still trying to convince Michonne to calm down, even though she sat quietly with a stoic gaze out into the traffic ahead. She had been that way since he picked her up from the front of the courthouse and ferried her and her big belly into the front seat of the squad car.

"Chonne you okay over there?" He glanced at Michonne quickly then nervously put his eyes right back on the road. The thought of getting in an accident, himself, while bringing Michonne to the hospital was a heartstopping thought as he imagined explaining that to his best friend. He swallowed thickly, the heat of the day and the adrenaline evaporating all the moisture on his tongue. "Judy's gonna be fine. So don't worry. She's just a bit banged up. It looks worse than it is. But she'll be okay. She gonna be fine. Don't worry."

"Shane." Michonne finally stilled his nervous rambling, still trained on the brief sights in front of her being pulled out of view by their rate of speed. "Just get me there in one piece." She said attempting a smile. "I'm okay."

Michonne wasn't okay, though. The shaky words of consolation being delivered by Shane were not really helping. She wanted to, but she couldn't fall apart with her present company. She's with her daddy, thank God. Rick is there with both of them. She tried to calm herself with that thought and it worked to some extent. Only now she felt bad that she wasn't there with them. She tried to hide the rogue tear that slipped down her cheek, not wanting to hear Shane repeat his clumsy attempts to comfort her.

….

The first person she saw was Carl in the waiting area of the emergency room.

"Carl?" She said walking briskly toward where he sat hunched over in a chair as far away as he could be from the crowd of ailing people scattered throughout the space. He rose to his feet pensively, and wrapped his arms around the top of her jutting middle.

She kissed his head as he burst into tears, "I'm sorry. It was my fault."

"It was an accident, Kiddo. That means it's nobody's fault."

"Dad's really mad at me."

"I'm sure dad's upset, but he's not mad at you, Carl. Come on. Let's go find your sister."

"That's okay. I'll wait out here."

"Carl…" She looked back at him expectantly. "She's going to be asking for you."

"Just tell her I'm out here waiting for them to patch her up." He gave her a weak smile and sat back in the spot she'd found him in. She didn't like how he was sounding at all. She wanted to sit down beside him and have one of their heart to hearts, but her little girl was actually the emergency she was there for. She decided to get back to the sentimental young man once Judith was squared away. "Michonne," Carl called her back with fresh tears welling, "and tell her I'm sorry."

A nurse pointed Michonne to exam room four and she power walked there, wincing as she pressed her palm back against the little rise rolling across her stomach. She pulled back the curtain and found Judith cuddled up to her daddy's chest. Her eyes were puffy from her earlier panicky cries and her uneven inhales rose her little body jerkily with every breath.

Michonne could see the threadlike lacerations made from the gravel mixed into the asphalt of their quaint little town's rarely gridlocked streets. She had kissed her baby girl goodbye this morning, reminding her to be on her best behavior for her brother. It was a necessary reminder for Judith Grimes.

She had talked to her little rascally blonde only an hour ago when Judith called to ask if she could walk to the store at the end of their block for a strawberry shortcake ice cream. Michonne had agreed as long as she held her brother's hand. After a quick bathroom break and a short conversation at Andrea's desk, Michonne's phone rang again. This time it was the sound of Rick's voice kicking her in the gut.

The contrast of the beet red color of road rash on Judith's milky skin was nearly a horror for Michonne to see in patches up her leg, down her upper arm and across nearly one half of her face. So quickly, too quickly, life can transport you from a typical, sluggish day to an ordeal you'd never have thought possible when the sun came up. Michonne wanted to cry now, too, but she couldn't upset Judith, so she took a deep breath and pushed her tears down underneath it.

Feeling her daddy shift in his chair toward the moving pink curtain, the little one lifted her wobbly head a bit when Michonne entered the room. Rick finally took his own breath when he saw his wife. He had been letting tears slip now and then thinking how, if things would have turned out differently, he wouldn't have even seen Judith's smile at all today or ever again. His early shift sent him out of the house in the dark of the morning with only Michonne's kiss. And though the day's events had him rethinking his early morning routine, it was still only Michonne's attention that he needed in this moment.

Rick spoke into Judith's hair, "Look honey, it's your mama."

"Mama, a car made me fall down." Judith's voice came out soft and sweet, a far departure from her usual spark plug nature.

"It did?" Michonne nearly faltered as her bottom lip began to quiver. She braced herself on Rick's shoulder, remembering her adjusted center of gravity, and smoothed her hand over Judith's tangled mess of yellow curls, tinged with a little blood. "Are you okay?"

Judith shook her head weakly. "My arm got broke.

Michonne looked to Rick for confirmation. He answered only with apologetic eyes. Shane had probably told her as much, but she honestly had not been listening to her wordy chauffeur in the least.

"But daddy can fix it." Judith said in a dreamy voice. "Daddy can fix everything. He can use his tools in the shed."

Michonne looked at Rick and they shared a smile. Michonne's face betrayed her confusion over Judith's irrational idea. Her husband brought her up to speed with the current situation. "They had to give her a lil' sumthin' so they could set the bone. She wouldn't let anyone touch it. I made them do it before you got here. She's high as a kite." He found a reason to chuckle. "She's been sayin' crazy stuff for the past twenty minutes. Just go with it. She'll be sorta out of it for awhile. We're waitin' for her cast."

"Daddy?"

"Yeah, baby girl?"

"I need a pink cast with purple glitter, daddy."

"Oh, that would be pretty." Rick indulged her sweetly. "We'll ask the nurse, okay?"

Judith nodded slowly. Her eyes were heavy but she managed to look up at Michonne."What do you think mama?"

"That would be so pretty. Michonne said in hushed excitement. "I think daddy's absolutely right."

"You think daddy's handsome, too. And daddy is strong. And he has all the tools in the shed. But we can't touch them because they're not for playing. He's so good at making stuff. He made my dollhouse and fixed my drawer with Philip's head…" Judith said, making her parent's smile. She would stand right beside her dad, asking him the name and function of every instrument he'd pick up. Rick was proud that she'd remembered. "... and Daddy made the tent when we go camping… but daddy why'd you make that baby in mama's tummy? You already got a baby."

…..

Michonne woke up from a much needed nap. She looked at the clock, then around the room for signs of Rick. Her full bladder flattened under the weight of the baby boy in her womb. She waddled to the toilet in her oversized sleep shirt, then out of her bedroom searching for her husband and kids.

Michonne heard the sound of Judith's chatter and went to check the precocious little girl's progress on the overhaul of her room that had become a pig stye over the past few days. Her mother decreed it be presentable by the time she woke up. Coming to stand at the threshold, she found her husband too. Michonne stood silently at the door, unobserved by the two usual partners in crime. Judith sat at her tiny white shabby chic table set with her dolls playing the talkative hostess and refilling tea cups with piping hot chamomile air.

Michonne saw Rick close Judith's dresser drawers with his hips, the contents of which were full of neatly folded bright and playful textiles. She watched for a moment more as Rick gathered an armful of scattered sandals and sneakers and deposited them neatly on her closet floor. Michonne cleared her throat, loud and deliberate, and the two oblivious occupants of the room jumped with guilty expressions.

Rick seemed to accept his fate immediately as Judith spoke up in a rush of contrite explanation, "Daddy was only helping, mama. I put all the toys away."

"Really, baby girl?" Michonne asked suspiciously. "Because it looks like you're playing with your toys, not putting them away…" Judith looked around at the mess of her play area and recognized the uselessness of further perjuring herself. "Can I speak to you for a moment, daddy?"

Michonne had been clear: They couldn't keep treating Judith like an invalid. She was rotten enough as it was and Michonne was determined to bring Andre home to a big brother and a big sister. Not a competitor. When they found out she was pregnant, Rick had grudgingly agreed to cut back on coddling the daddy's girl so much. But her accident had kicked his spoiling nature back into high gear.

Once Michonne laid down to take her beloved Saturday nap, Judith tip-toed in her mother's room and made sure she was sleeping. Then she went to charm her daddy into doing her dark bidding using her bright blue eyes and snaggletoothed grin. When she interrupted the tinkering he was doing in his shed and asked him to help her clean her room while she made him fake tea and doughnuts, he had caved. Soon into the tea party, he noticed he wasn't actually helping as much as he was just cleaning her room for her. Rick chuckled at how she had hustled him and knew she got it honest from Michonne Grimes.

Now, caught red handed, he wanted to know how much trouble he was in. Was he about to be questioned as a witness to Judith's crimes or on trial for his own. "Is this a subpoena or a summons?" He asked sheepishly with a smile.

As mad as Michonne was she couldn't ignore the curl in the corner of his lips that was serving her tall, dark and handsome devil. She didn't answer him. She only narrowed her eyes to demonstrate and bolster her seriousness... and also to blur his rugged good looks. She waved him forward and he came with his tail between his bowed legs. Rick squeezed past Michonne's heavily pregnant body into the hallway, still smirking like the problem kid on his way to the principal. "Judy, I want this room clean, sweetie, and I want you to do it."

Michonne remembered, then, that her daughter had one other possible minion. "Carl!" She called and he opened the door to his room, giving him a clear view past his parents, into his little sister's abode. "Carl, your sister is cleaning her room by herself, okay? She doesn't need help."

Michonne said, nodding at Rick to start walking.

Carl silently watched his parents walk toward their room and then looked back to Judith who was doing the most directing her version of puppy dog eyes straight into her brother's heart. Judith picked up a toy with her injured arm and dropped it, grimacing through pain as fake as her tea time feast. She held her pink cast dramatically. Carl was still deeply remorseful about his role in her accident. He was nearly as malleable as Rick when it came to being wrapped around the rule-breaker's little finger. His guilt was like a wound, made even more painful by his father's ongoing disappointment. Michonne told him many times that it wasn't his fault but Rick's demeanor, although unintentional, said different.

It was a rule in the Grimes household that any disagreement requiring a "talk" talk would take place in private. Rick and Lori had the same rule, but Carl often heard their war of words through the walls. So the new family's rule also included no raised voices during disagreements. They stood in front of one another on Rick's side of the bed, furthest from the locked bedroom door. Michonne was ready to wear him out with some furious whispers. Though she didn't really have to open her mouth, her face said it all.

"Michonne.." Rick began, trying to placate her in advance of the coming castigation.

"Nope. Overruled."

Rick chuckled, crossing his arms. He wrinkled his brows in confusion. "Your name is overruled?"

"You know what I mean."

"Okay…"

Michonne continued waving her hands in protest, "Nothing you say is admissible. We talked about this, Rick. We agreed. You said you agreed!" She pulled her volume in on a glance toward the door. "Judy needs to be given more responsibilities and expected to behave like a big girl. She's old enough..."

Whenever Michonne turned into Claire Huxtable with the lawyer speak, Rick knew she was pissed. He put his hands up to calm her down. She was already into her closing arguments before he'd said two words. "Hold on Mrs. Grimes, may I answer?"

His wife crossed her arms atop her belly. "Proceed." she said with a calmer inflection but no less attitude.

"In my defense, she lured me up here with the promise of free fake doughnuts." He threw a hand back to the door along with his cupulbility. "Since when is it a crime to enjoy a plastic doughnut with my daughter?"

"So how is it that you ended up cleaning in her room?"

"She was cute?" He shrugged, still trying to make light of the situation.

"Weeks, Rick! We have weeks…" Michonne lit into him. "You might as well say days, the weeks are so few, and there will be an actual newborn baby in this house. Now Judith had a good run. But you aren't doing her any favors babying her like you do. She will always be the baby girl, but she's got to be a big girl, too."

"She's just a kid, Michonne. I just want her to be a kid as long as possible, I guess." He shrugged. "Before the world can really hurt her." Rick explained, thinking of all the ways life could break you that would make a broken arm pale in comparison. Right now, though, a fractured bone was good enough to submit as evidence of his wife's groundless accusations. "She's got a broken arm." Rick said in a cool rebuttal, "She's legitimately handicapped. Some people might call you heartless." Rick dared and crossed his arms, mirroring her defensive stance.

"Well, some people better watch their mouths." She said warning him. He lowered his head to hide his amusement at her threats spilling over the biggest cutest belly he'd ever seen. "But I'm glad you brought up heartless… I see your name on the docket for a civil action…"

"What?" Rick thought he was keeping up with her lingo but now found himself confused.

"The way you've been treating Carl…?"

"How have I been treatin' Carl?" he asked, teetering on playing dumb and actual ignorance.

After a gasp, Michonne widened her eyes and shouted as best she could without raising her voice. "Like this whole thing is his fault!"

"Well, he was supposed to be holdin' her hand."

"And he was, she pulled away from him."

"So it's her fault?"

"I'm not assigning guilt in that case. It was an accident. Accidents happen. I just thank God she's okay." She rubbed her face feeling the stress of that day all over again. She changed her focus quickly. "What is not an accident is the conscious decision you made to violate the agreement we made to have her pull her weight around here."

Rick shook his head in bashful defeat in the face of her arguments. He resorted to his only means of defense, pulling her arms away from her chest to hold both her hands in his. "Okay, okay… I'm sorry. You're right, that was the deal." He admitted, rubbing his thumb over the back of her hand. "But I'm not as strong as you are, Chonne. You and Judy can play me like a fiddle. You don't even have to try. Either of you gives me those eyes… I feel like I'm in the Matrix. Blue pill, brown pill, blue pill, brown pill…" Michonne shifted her weight to one leg in a cute little lean. In a heartbeat she melted from her cold courtroom persona and gave him the very brown eyed look he described. "See! Y'all are drivin' me crazy… I plead not guilty by reason of insanity."

Finally, Michonne broke completely and gave him a giggle. In all honesty, she knew his predicament. Caught between a rock such as herself and the hard place of his only daughter's affection, she decided she'd allow for mitigating factors before making her ruling. "Look, Rick." She sat on the bed, looking up at him and started with a less judicial tone, "The two of us have to be on the same page. We're about to be outnumbered in the house. Little Miss Judy can not be running things up in here. I know she was hurt, but if she can run around all morning at the playground like she did today, she can come home and clean her room."

"I know, I know…" He sat beside her, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees as he really thought about what she was saying. The new addition to their family was not going to make parenting any easier.

"And Carl walked her there and back safely today like he has so many other times. I don't think that one incident should tarnish his entire record as a big brother. He loves her so much and wants to make you proud more than anything. Judith's scars are already healing, Carl deserves that too."

"You're right. I'll talk to him." Rick promised with a sigh as he fell back onto the swirl of sheets she'd left from her nap. "I just…" He placed a hand on his chest and cupped his other arm around her bottom, caressing her thigh as she looked over her shoulder at him. He felt that she wasn't wearing any underwear and his eyes went to the swell of her resting backside before he got himself together and focused on his words again. "I just work a dangerous job. If anything happens to me, Carl's gonna be the man of the house. I want him to be responsible and mature enough to look after you guys."

With Rick's confession hitting her, her heart went out to her husband. She would never have known he thought that way. He had them set up financially if the unspeakable should happen, but to hear him worry over their well-being beyond that, made her love him so much more. And there wasn't any question that Carl would always live up to his father's expectations. Michonne raised herself a little, turning to face her husband for a better view of his fretful features, she placed her hand over the one on his heart. "Rick, Carl is also a kid. How about we let them both be kids… who are responsible for contributing to the household in age-appropriate ways. Besides..." she decided to tease him now, "who says I won't remarry?"

"I do!" He said with a straight face, sending Michonne tumbling her face onto his chest in hearty laughter. "Hey, don't laugh! Michonne. Hey.." He tried to capture her gaze and get her attention but she kept falling over top of him, weak from his state of alarm. Rick captured both her cheeks in his hands and spoke seriously through her laughter. "Anything happens to me I forbid you to remarry…"

Michonne was still in stitches, "Forbid?"

"Yeah. Forbid." He said pulling her lips to his for a series of sensual pecks that morphed into moaning tongue tussling as Michonne dispatched her hand to travel down his torso to rub along the tent he was pitching in his pants. He slipped his wide palm from her cheek to her neck. He released her lips long enough to bury his face in her hair, his lips on her ear, he suggested with a low rumble, "So you better get as much of this lovin' as you can... while you can."

Refreshed from her nap, she had just enough energy to share an orgasm with her husband. She unbuckled his belt while he pushed his jeans from his hips. It dawned on her, as she threw a knee over his body to straddle him, that this may have been his plan all along- to end up in the bedroom behind a locked door on the receiving end of her passion. The thought made her smile as he reached a hand under the shade of her heavy form.

Michonne murmured out her approval as Rick held her with one hand full of her ass and his other palm clutching her inner thigh, he swiped his coated thumb up from her moistening entrance to her sublime hub of sensation, just above. He pressed her button as she began rolling her pelvis against the pressure. She had her cocoa butter soft fingers wrapped around his statuesque length, her upward stroke of his rigid member made his legs tense and his palms squeeze her tighter.

"Come on. Sit on it, Michonne." Rick pulled at her bottom half, smiling up at the telling hints written all over her body- her hooded eyes, her parted lips, the peaks of her breasts emerging through the soft jersey material of her shirt. "You know you want to. Let daddy put you right back to sleep." He said as he started to move his hands slowly all over her body in the most sensually hypnotic way. She eased her ready sex onto his, moaning euphorically as she settled down on top of him to the view of the tip of his soft pink tongue licking over his soft pink lips. "Stay right there."

He lifted his back off the bed, molding his body around the curve of her big happy belly to attack her lips once more. Guiding him to the exact spot inside her where she needed him to be, her eyes drifted back, shut up tightly between her lids. Michonne started to move and Rick descended back to the level of the bed, keeping her in his intense gaze in anticipation of seeing her break apart all over him.

"Mama!" Judith's voice came through the door accompanied by a steady frantic knock.

Michonne licked her lips and rolled her eyes in a very different way than she had just a moment ago. Her face was twisted in agony as Rick brought his palms down the front of his face in frustration.

"Yes, sweetie? What's up?" Michonne called back sweetly.

"Come see my room! It's clean."

"Okay, baby girl. Give mama ten minutes." Michonne requested, in a nosedive to reach her husband's lips again.

"Ten minutes?" Judith was dumbfounded. To her parents chagrin, she insisted, "You gotta come now, mama! My room will be messy again if you wait that long!"