A/N: I decided to make this into a series of stories about Rick and Michonne spending time together away from the chaos. Just them together – Me + You. The stories will be kinda / sorta intertwined. This takes place after 7x10 but before 7x12.

Happiness was a rare and fleeting creature in the tense times of the apocalypse. Any day could make a quick transformation into devastation. Savoring the pockets of joy they were lucky to find was necessary to keep moving forward in the new world. It was one of the hard lessons Rick had learned since waking up from his coma two years prior. He had forgotten it for a time after their latest nightmare, but never again. Relishing in his current bliss had him sitting on the piles of blankets of the makeshift bed, smiling. The map and his mug of coffee in each hand were forgotten, eclipsed by the vision before him.

Michonne.

She stood in their closet pulling clothes from the hangers then folding them neatly into her backpack. Her locs were piled on top of her head in a messy bun. He loved seeing her hair up – it showed off the elegant lines of her neck. He wished she'd wear it that way more often instead of only in the privacy of their bedroom. Though he felt privileged he was the only one to see her that way.

He appreciated that she only wore a t-shirt that barely grazed her thighs and purple boy shorts panties, but what truly made him drink in the sight of her was the small serene smile on her face. Her happiness was everything to him. Knowing Negan hadn't destroyed all her joy gave him back some of the hope he hadn't felt since that night.

Feeling the power of his gaze, her eyes found his, her happiness now focused on him. She walked up to the foot of their pallet and tilted her head to the side. "What's with the big smile?" She asked, her voice tinged with amusement.

He dipped his head down - still smiling - before meeting her eyes again. "I'm enjoyin' the view." He placed the map and coffee mug on the floor and settled back against the wall with his arms crossed over his chest.

"Is that right?" Her smile brightened and stretched as she playfully kicked his socked foot with her bare one. "Watching me pack is that interesting to you?"

"It's more about the beautiful woman who's doin' the packin'." His southern drawl was heavy and relaxed as he grinned at her. "Never seen a person happier foldin' clothes."

"You flatter." She chuckled lightly then shrugged. "My grandmother always said neatness is a virtue so I might as well be happy doing it. I was the only kid at camp who took the time to make my bunk bed and straighten up the cabin before going out to play."

"I'm not surprised. This bedroom did get a lot more organized when you moved in."

"Yes, Mr. Leaves His Coffee Cups Everywhere." She looked pointedly at the mug on the floor next to him.

He lifted his hands in the air in mock surrender. "I promise to do better."

"Yeah, right." Their laugher - as it often did lately - filled the room. "But really, I'm just happy our plan is coming together. Happy to finally get some alone time with you."

His eyebrows lifted, grin widened. "Me too. Very happy about that."

Michonne was sure the lust in Rick's eyes matched her own. She bit her lip and turned her attention back to the closet knowing if they stared at each other a second longer they'd be naked on those blankets in no time.

Rick continued to watch her pack until he was hit with a fit of yawns. He rubbed at his watering eyes as his body gave away his exhaustion.

"You sleep OK last night?" Michonne asked, concerned. "I felt you tossing and turning."

"Yeah. Just hard to get comfortable on the floor." He felt guilty for telling her this half-truth, but he didn't want to worry her about his lack of sleep.

"Tell me about it. I know we still have a lot to be grateful for with a nice house behind a gate, but I miss that mattress a lot."

"Maybe we'll find some new ones on our run. Law of averages say we're due for a win."

"Long overdue." She pointed to the map next to him. "Did you figure out our route yet?" She bent over to pick a shirt up off the floor.

Rick became distracted by the perfect curve of her backside over her firm thighs. He rubbed his hands against his jeans feeling the urge to palm it in his hands. The purple of her panties made the smooth, dark skin of her legs look even more luscious than usual. He felt a familiar stirring in his jeans and subtly tried to adjust himself. He cleared his throat and licked his lips before answering. "Figured me and Aaron went North last time so we should head South."

She nodded. "Makes sense. The opposite direction of the junkyard." With three pairs of jeans and shirts packed neatly in her bag, she moved over to the dresser to sift through her bras and panties. "Speaking of which, do you think we can really trust Jadis and her people?"

"They're a weird bunch, but it's all we got right now. Hopefully, Daryl is working on changin' Kang Ezekiel's mind." He picked up his mug again and took a sip of coffee.

"Mmm," was all she said.

"What?" he asked.

She turned to face him "You know I love Daryl like a brother, but he's not exactly known for using his words or his diplomatic skills."

Rick cocked his head to side then nodded. "Can't argue with that, but maybe he'll surprise us."

"Maybe. They really are strange though."

"The Kingdom or the Junkyard?"

She paused to contemplate. "Both really. But Ezekiel seems like a kind and caring leader. Morgan wouldn't have stuck around if he wasn't. He'd fight for his people but doesn't want to do it just yet. He's the total opposite of Gregory. That junkyard crew though." She shook her head. "Why do they talk like that? I mean we've been in this new world for only a couple of years. Not nearly long enough to develop a new way of speaking. Seems like a very calculated act they're putting on. Then there's the fact she pushed you down into that trash thunderdome. I haven't forgotten that. She's lucky we need them right now."

Rick never failed to get turned on when his love went full warrior. He glanced at her sword resting against the wall. Jadis was very lucky indeed. "Hopefully once we give them their guns and finish with Negan we won't have any more reason to do business to do with them," he said.

"I want all our communities to come together for the greater good, but my gut is telling me something is up with them. Though like you said they're all we have. Anyway," she turned back to the dresser. "if we're going south maybe we'll hit the coast. Have a beach day," she joked.

"I'd never turn down seein' you in a bikini."

"I don't have one so we'll have to make it a nude beach." She winked at him over her shoulder.

Rick bit his lip before letting his eyes roam down her body. "Definitely wouldn't turn that down either."

She playfully threw her bra at him before their earlier lust could come back. "Down boy."

Michonne covered her mouth and giggled when the bra landed on Rick's head. He grabbed the thin, pink cloth and traced the intricate rose patterns woven into the C cups with his finger. "You should definitely bring this one with us."

She took out a pair of pink lace panties. "It'll pair well with these." She twirled them around with her finger.

Rick practically leaped to his feet and was in front of Michonne in less than a second. The panties were forgotten and dropped to the floor as Rick lifted her in the air. Her legs - on their own accord - wrapped around his waist. Her shocked giggles soon gave way to delighted moans when he pressed his lips hungrily against hers. He walked two steps forward until her back was against the wall.

He released her lips and started kissing her neck. She leaned her head back as far as it could go against the wall to give him better access. "I thought we were going to wait until we were alone tonight," she said breathlessly.

"No time like the present," he mumbled between kisses. The heat of his breath against her ear sent shivers down her spine.

Just as quickly as he leaped to his feet he maneuvered them down onto the blankets. His body covered hers as their lips met again. Rick became caught up in the sounds of her moans and the feel of her petite body wrapped around his. The only other time he'd been in love felt like a lifetime ago. He looked back on those good times at the beginning of his marriage as if they were a faded picture - no longer able to remember if those feelings matched what he had with Michonne. Though he didn't think so. Loving her wasn't like anything he'd ever experienced before. It was as if waves of euphoric fervor were hitting him all at once.

He pulled away from the kiss to gaze into her eyes while running his index finger down the side of her face. The lust was still there as they became lost in each other, but there was something else too. Something mere words were too mundane to describe. A vibration only they could feel.

Rick knew from the moment their lips touched the first time on that couch it was love - a deep, soul stirring love. He'd said those three words to her just the other night. They were on the tip of his tongue at that moment, but he couldn't push them out. A dull ache in the pit of his stomach felt like a premonition. Their joy was fleeting. He wouldn't have her in his arms forever. Their love was on borrowed time.

Michonne could sense the change in his mood immediately. She brushed back the curls laying unruly on his forehead and rubbed her foot down his leg. "What is it, Rick?"

He gave her a peck on the lips. "Nothin'. Thinkin' too much. You know me."

She tilted her head to side and watched him closely. "You want to talk about it," her voice took on the soft tone she only used with him.

He rested his forehead on hers. "Nah. It's not important."

She knew that wasn't true, but she let it go. He would tell her when he was ready. She tightened her arms around his neck and looked around at how they were sprawled on the blankets. "How do we always end up here?"

He shrugged, smiled again. He pushed down the darkness and returned to savoring the woman in his arms. "We're just makin' up for lost time."

Michonne laughed and pulled at the curls at the nape of his neck. "Ah, OK. So that's it." She tapped him on his butt so he could move from on top of her and sat up. "Is that oatmeal I smell coming from downstairs?"

"Yeah. Told Carl to make breakfast. Part of his punishment for that stunt he pulled with Negan." He sat up too and stifled another yawn. "Since Gabe and Tara will be keeping an eye on him and Judith while we're gone, I told them Carl's services are theirs to use with laundry, pantry duty, or anything else they can think of."

"The Grimes regime bringing back child labor," Michonne joked. "Can't say he doesn't deserve it though."

"Had him sew up my pants too." He pointed to the stitching. "The boy is talented with a needle and thread."

She ran her fingers along the neat threading, impressed by Carl's work. "I was going to say I thought I threw these jeans out yesterday, but I kept it to myself."

"These are my best jeans." His smiled faded into a slight frown as he defended his favorite piece of clothing.

"Rick. You know that's not true." She pointed to his side of the closet. "You have at least three other pairs of nice pants you can wear."

"All of those are stiff. Don't feel lived in. These have history," he said completely serious.

"They're going to fall apart soon. No amount of sewing will be able to fix them."

"These jeans are as much part of me as you and the kids. I'm in for the long haul with them." He looked down at his lower half as if he was proud of the staying power of said jeans.

She just shook her head and beamed at him, giving up on her argument knowing there was no way she was getting him out of those things. "You're adorable."

He chuckled and scratched at his eyebrow knowing how ridiculous it was to be so attached to a piece of clothing. "I think my mom is the only other person to ever call me that." His hand found her knee, always needing to touch some part of her. "Speaking of adorable what are you going to do with your new cat?"

Michonne looked at where their new, rusty friend was lounging on the dresser. "I have no idea. It seems out of place in this house. Such an unusual looking guy."

"I know it's not much. You deserve the world, but all I can give you now is mints and thangs from a junkyard."

"I don't need gifts, Rick. Those things don't matter anymore. Everything I need is in this house."

"You may not need 'em, but you deserve 'em."

She intertwined their fingers together. "Such a romantic."

He kissed her hand. "What kinda gifts did you like gettin' before?"

"Flowers were always nice. Especially purple tulips." She closed her eyes thinking back to her life before. "I liked one of a kind handmade jewelry. I was never a diamonds and gold girl. I loved artwork. Rare first edition books. Red wine. I had a pretty big lingerie collection. I liked feeling sexy underneath my clothes." Michonne giggled as Rick's eyebrows almost shot up to his hairline at that piece of information.

She picked up the pair of panties that had dropped to the floor, brushing the soft lace against his lips before tucking them into the front pocket of his buttoned-down khaki shirt. He watched, titillated by her antics, and swore he could smell her intoxicating scent through the fabric though they were fresh from the dryer.

"Victoria's Secret?" he managed to choke out though his throat felt tight.

"No. La Perla and Agent Provocateur mostly."

"I've never heard of those places in my life."

"Fancy stuff that probably wasn't worth all of that money now that I think about it. Like I said though, it doesn't matter anymore. Now that cat." She pointed at the feline. "That cat is what's important."

"I think we should leave it there on the dresser."

Michonne scrunched up her nose and shook her head. "I don't know if I want to wake up to it staring at me every morning. It'll look better downstairs. Maybe in the yard."

"Not the yard. We should make him an indoor cat like the one in your cell back at the prison. You woke up to it every day."

"Yes, but Jasmine was full of life." She leaned forward still examining the rusty wires of their new pet. "This one is less cheery."

"Jasmine?" he asked confused.

"That's what I named the other cat."

He chuckled. "Oh. It did look like a Jasmine."

"I can't believe you even noticed her."

"I noticed everythang about you back then. Still do."

"I thought you were keeping a close watch on me those first few weeks because you didn't quite trust me yet."

"After King County I trusted you completely. Carl's word was all I needed. As the days, weeks, months went on I knew how lucky we were to have you there. From the start you intrigued me. You became part of my core family, then my best friend, and more. Much more. My everything." He placed their intertwined hands over his heart. "Sometimes I think I put too much on you with all the shit I go through. I hope you know how much I appreciate you."

She laid her head on his shoulder. "I do, Rick. You show it. Everyday. Don't think for a minute this is one-sided. You saved me. All the happiness and peace I have now is because of you."

He put his arm around her to pull her close. "Is it too early in the morning to be this sentimental?"

She chuckled. "Probably, but it's only us here so we're fine. Tell me what else you noticed back when were lived at the prison."

"A lot of thangs."

"Like what. Tell me."

"Like how you'd wake up an hour before sunrise to exercise in the yard alone. Not even taking a day off when it was freezing outside. Or how you always looked back to give Carl one last wave before you galloped away on the horse to go try to find the Governor."

"He always tried to talk me out of going," she said "I wanted to make sure he knew I would be OK so he wouldn't worry."

"Never stopped either of us from worrin'"

She nudged his shoulder with hers. "What else."

"Umm...how you always piled your plate with cucumbers and carrots when the crops came in. But you never touched the tomatoes. How sweet and patient you were with Beth when she wanted to learn hand to hand combat. How you were always so enthralled by Hershel's stories. I noticed how your body would stiffen and you'd close your eyes briefly as pain flashed across your face every time you saw Judith. How you'd immediately walk off in the opposite direction. That's when I knew before you ever told me that you'd been through a parent's worst nightmare."

She tucked one of her locs - that had escaped the bun - behind her ear and dipped her head down. She nodded with tears framing her lashes. "You're constantly surprising me, Rick. I knew you were a good man from the start, but to think we'd end up here." She shook her head. "I would have never imagined, but there's nowhere else I would rather be."

He sighed in contentment and held her closer to him. "Me either."

She looked back up at the cat. "Hey may not be as beautiful as Jasmine, but there is a certain charm there."

"You're gonna have to name him too."

She laughed. "Give me a few days to think of one." She looked over at the clock. "I better get in the shower. We need to leave after breakfast."

She tried to stand, but he grabbed her waist to pull her back down on his lap. "Stick around a little while longer. We have some time."

Giving in without a fight, Michonne straddled his lap and wrapped her arms around his neck, letting him place a series of soft, lingering kisses on her plump lips. His hands massaged her sides, stopping at the curve of her hips. He adjusted her position as he went in for a deeper kiss. The smacking of their lips and the hitch of their breaths echoed in the room. Rick's hands moved underneath her t-shit to grasp the soft mounds of her breasts. She pulled away from his lips when she felt his growing hardness on her thigh.

"Is that another present you have for me Officer Grimes?" Her voice was low and sultry.

His hands moved down to grip her ass. "It's yours if you want it."

"I always do." She grinded her pelvis against his arousal.

He moaned then abruptly hissed in pain as she inadvertently brushed against the cut on his leg.

"Oh! I'm sorry, Rick. Is your leg OK? I shouldn't be putting weight on it." She said concerned she was hurting him.

"Don't worry about it, baby. I'm fine. Besides you're tiny. You could stay here on my lap all day."

"That's just what you want," she teased.

He laughed and kissed her on the forehead. "It's true. You found me out."

She gave him that beautiful smile he loved. Her joy at seeing his joy shined through. "I like you like this."

"Like what?"

"Happy and smiling. It looks good on you."

"Someone special told me it was OK to smile. So I'm smiling."

She cupped his face with her hands, feeling the soft whiskers of his beard. "You're just too damn handsome. Even more so when you smile."

He shook his head, red coloring his face - embarrassed as always when she complimented him.

"You don't think you're handsome." She stated more than asked.

"I never really thought about it."

"I'm sure all the girls had crushes on you in high school."

"Nah. Not me." He pecked her on the lips. "You on the other hand…"

She winked and shrugged. "I did all right."

"I bet you did." He flipped her over onto her back and lifted her shirt, leaving wet kisses up and down her taut belly. Just as he hooked his thumbs in her panties to pull them down their reverie was broken.

"Dad this oatmeal is going to get cold and gross if you and Michonne don't come down now," Carl yelled up the stairs.

They both signed as Rick rolled off her. "I can't wait to be alone with you," he said.

"I love our kids, but a couple of days of just me and you will be heaven."

Rick raised on his elbow to look down on her. "Or more."

"More days?" She looked at him curiously. "We probably shouldn't stay away more than two days at a time."

"It might take us a while to find the guns. It could be three, four, five days."

"Well, let's see how it goes."

He smiled. "OK. We'll see."

She tapped his lips with her finger. "There's that smile again. I love seeing it on your face. Now," she stood, "I really need to get in the shower."

His eyes followed her as she sashayed into the bathroom. Once he heard the shower turn on he stood and walked over to the window. There wasn't much activity outside yet. Rosita stood on top of the gate, her face in a scowl that had become permanent. Her gaze traveled down the empty roads and fields that stretched out in front of the community.

He always expected Negan's trucks to appear at any moment, eager to play their cruel games with him and his people. Michonne's voice rose above the spray of the shower as she hummed a tune. He sighed and pressed his head against the cool glass of the window. He always felt off when she wasn't by his side. The happiness seeped out of him if he couldn't feel her energy. All that remained was the fear and anxiety about what came next mixed with the grief he couldn't shake for the friends they'd already lost.

Casualties were a part of war. There was no getting around that. The trip with Michonne was going to be a respite from the reality of their situation. He wanted to stretch it out for as long as possible because he knew both of them would be on the front lines. Their mortalities were staring him in the face and he couldn't shake the feeling that this was it for them.