Michonne woke the next day to the chirp of her alarm. It was the last week of work before she had a few weeks off to pack and get moving. Daryl laid on his stomach, his hair tousled and sticking out like he got struck by lightning. She giggled at his open mouth snores and the pillow fort that he'd created in the middle of the night. She always marveled at how he managed to take every pillow possible and make a bed in their bed for himself. He had a loose grip on one pillow while another rested by his feet. Sometime in the middle of the night she'd managed to steal all of the top sheet and had wrapped herself like a burrito. A grunt escaped his lips and she kissed his cheek as an apology for rousing him from his slumber.

On padded feet, Michonne made her way to the bathroom to prepare for her day. After dressing in black stretch jeans and a crisp white button-up shirt, grabbing her packed lunch and an apple from the kitchen and waited for her carpool on the porch. Minutes later her friend and colleague Aaron pulled up giving a wolf whistle and wiggling eyebrows as she got into the car, tossing her leather satchel in the back seat. Aaron revved off into the day, while Michonne sat quietly in the passenger seat. Ten minutes into their drive Aaron broke the silence with a "Please don't leave me with these incompetent assholes Michonne."

"Aaron! I can't help you with your problem." laughing at the fact that they'd had this conversation for the last two weeks, as soon as she put her notice in at work.

"Please Michonne. Or let me come with you. I'll be your third and we can live happily ever after." Michonne smiled her 1000 watt smile and shook her head.

"Aaron, you know Eric would be pissed and there's no way I'm letting you anywhere near Daryl. I see you checking him out all the time." tilting her head to the side with a 'gotya' smirk on her lips.

"I'm engaged, not dead. Your man is hot as hell." to which she nodded appreciatively. The two continued their banter until they got to work, parking and heading up to the brick office building. Michonne hadn't thought she'd be working at a corporate office, but here she was, with her designated cubicle selling motivational speakers to middle managers in the heartland. After departing from Aaron, she busied herself with her tasks for the week, and put her head down.

Hours later her phone ringing took her out of her concentration. The flashing name not who she'd expected to be contacting her on a Monday, much less mere hours from when they'd last corresponded. They didn't do that, not anymore. Letting it go to voicemail she continued with her projects. Around lunch, she walked outside to get some sun and call Daryl. After checking in with him, she picked checked her voicemail.

"Hey. It's me. I...uggg… found your necklace in the truck. I'm pretty busy this week to make a trip, but I can mail it to ya, or drop it off with your dad. Anyway, call me back."

Michonne stood in the middle of the sidewalk chewing her lip, a nervous habit she'd picked up from Daryl, and decided to call Rick back. The phone rang a few times before he picked up.

"Hello?" he asked. "Hey. I got your message" she responded.

"Yeah, well what do you want me to do with your necklace?" he asked, getting to the point.

"I'll come." she said, wondering why she'd decided this was the best course of action. "I have to get some boxes from my daddy, and ugh… I can stop by and pick it up this weekend" she offered, to which he agreed.

They made plans to exchange the necklace on Saturday. Getting off the phone, Michonne kicked herself for being so irresponsible. She bit her lip again thinking about how foolish it was to make the hour and a half trip, knowing she wasn't going to get the necklace, not really.


Aaron honked as he dropped Michonne off that afternoon. She noticed Daryl's car in the driveway and walked up the steps, letting herself in and dropping her satchel by the door, and slipping her shoes off. Daryl was sitting in the living room, papers strewn about as he gnawed on his thumb. The faint sound of Billy Strings filled the room as she watched him focus intently on some document.

"If you stare at it hard enough it'll answer all your questions.' she said, sauntering over and giving him a quick kiss before slumping into the loveseat.

"Paul sent some notes over about the recording, but I can't seem to figure it out none." he replied, handing over the page with music jargon and terrible handwriting.

"You're gonna need a cryptographer to get this one." she replied, handing him back his paper and curling into her seat.

"You want pizza or Thai tonight? I didn't get to the store today." She knew it'd been a busy day with him finishing up at the studio before they left.

"Thai. Oh, can we get the pad see ew?" to which he scrunched up his nose.

"Daryl! You can't just get chicken and rice every time. You're taking my bougie black girl card away" a robust laugh escaped his lips as he got off the floor and stood in front of her, she smirked up at him, using her dainty foot to tickle behind his knees.

"Woman!" he began, as she tried to escape his clutches, but before she could get up he'd sat directly on her, crushing her into the loveseat. High pitched giggles fell from her heart-shaped lips as he wiggled on top of her until she called 'uncle'. Moving some to make room for him, he slid beside her, grabbing her legs and pulling her into his embrace. The two sat quietly as he twirled a loc around his finger affectionately.

After dinner, Daryl and Michonne curled up on their couch and started another episode of The Wire. It'd taken some cajoling from Michonne, but Daryl was hooked. They'd each grabbed a beer and sipped them silently, content to be in each others spheres. His phone ringing took them out of the moment as he picked her legs off him and walked towards the kitchen, asking if she wanted another beer, which she replied an affirmative to. When he returned, she asked "Who was that?" to which he replied "Merle". A groan escaped her lips before she could stop herself.

"Sorry. What does he want?" she tolerated Daryl's brother for him, but he was a piece of work.

"Wanted to go hunting this weekend," he said.

"Oh. Well, that sounds painful. You going?" she asked.

"Yeah. Won't be seein' him none after we leave" he said with a tinge of guilt in his voice.

"Don't feel bad for following your dreams D. He's got to understand that" to which he grunted.

"Oh, I actually need the truck to get boxes from my daddy this weekend" she looked at his expression to gauge his response. He loved his truck, and she drove fast and loose like she'd missed her calling to be a NASCAR driver.

"Chonne…" Daryl started

"Come on D! I'll be good to Betty. I'll even drive the speed limit" she said batting her eyelashes as he shook his head. He was gonna give her the car anyway, but when she batted her lashes like an innocent fawn, he couldn't say no.

"Fine. But you gotta fill the tank, and get 'er washed"

"Deal! Let's keep watching, I wanna know what happens to McNutty next" she said doing her best Bubble impression.


Saturday morning rolled around faster than she realized as she felt Daryl kiss her goodbye. Checking the clock she saw it was 6 AM, and with no desire to leave the comfort of her bed, she grabbed one of his pillows and fell back to sleep. Around 10, she had showered, dressed in a loose white tank and cutoff overalls to make the drive back home. The landscape whizzed by as she made the familiar turns along the highway, getting off at the exit and heading towards town. She passed the main drag of town before heading towards her childhood home. The paved road turned into a dirt road as she made her way to the robins egg blue one story ranch-style house. The driveway had two cars parked already and she wondered who else was home with her father.

Getting out of the car, Michonne pocketed her keys and walked through the unlocked front door. The lith of a high pitched voice drew a questioning frown from Michonne. Rounding the corner out of the front, Michonne walked to the back of the house to find her father and Deanna Monroe standing close to one another laughing with a familiarity of longtime friends. Michonne cleared her throat, causing the two to move farther apart, and glance in her direction.

"Hi Daddy" Michonne began

"Hi baby girl. You remember Mrs. Monroe?" he asked to which she greeted Deanna. Michonne's father Reganold smiled at his baby girl. With close-cropped onyx hair greying at the temples, a warm umber skin tone much like his progeny's and a medium built Reganold Deville was the epitome of dapper daddies. At the ripe age of 60, he'd seen a great deal of the world from his days in the Navy and instilled a love of adventure and curiosity into his baby girl.

Reg, Deanna, and Michonne enjoyed a late lunch of grilled chicken caesar salads and light conversation. Michonne told Deanna about her graduate studies and Deanna talked more about her early retirement from the Superintendent's office. "I'm just sick of politics. And now that the boys are gone, I can spend some time doing all the things I want to do. It's lonely in that old house." Deanna remarked, a sad tilt of her head in Reg's direction. An unspoken current passed between the two that Michonne noticed but did not remark upon.

"Well, I'm glad my dad's been such a good friend to you recently," Michonne said earnestly, to which her father nodded appreciatively, this was a conversation for another time.

Michonne excused herself to the washroom, stopping along the way to stare at the family portrait in the hall. Three people smiling affectionately at the camera, her father in a black Polo standing behind a seated woman in an eggshell dress. The woman's blemish free russet features shining with hints of gold and rose. A smiling Michonne stood beside the woman and in front of her father wearing a seashell dress with ruffles along the collar, and closed-toe black shoes, and white ruffle socks. Her hair separated into three braids, with white barrett's clinching the braids at the top and bottom. Moisture slipped onto her chin before she realized she was crying. Wiping her face quickly with the back of her hand she slipped into the familiar washroom which had been renovated with wooden molding, giving it a log cabin feel.

After collecting herself, she stared into the mirror and tried to smile. It felt forced, and she wondered if it ever got easier, this feeling of missing. Shaking her head to rid herself of the gnaw, she placed a cold washcloth over her eyes to reduce the swelling. Taking a deep breath, she exited the washroom and went in search of her daddy and Deanna, finding them sitting quietly in the backyard with her hand resting on top of his in comfort. Michonne coughed to get their attention again, a bit childish of a move, but she didn't want to startle them or make it awkward.

"I gotta go pick something up from Rick's before I head back to the city," she said, before crossing the distance to embrace her father and his new friend.


Driving along the subdivision, Michonne marveled at the sheer sizes of the newer houses built over the last five years in town. Rick's two-story house with ornate shutters, stood out to her. An alabaster tone with grey roof and grey trim, the home screamed 'money'. The perfectly manicured lawn, with sconces and perfectly trimmed shrubs, rested in front of a lush abet small cluster of woods which separated Rick from his neighbors. The space between each home, a contrast to her city condo. Exiting the truck, Michonne pulled into the driveway on the right side of the front door and walked up the brick paved walkway. Ringing the bell one, then twice, she waited with her hands in her pockets for him to answer. The faint shuffle of feet reached her ears as she prepared herself.

A lazy smile graced his face as he gestured behind him to enter his home, which she did slowly. Inside, the house looked more lived in. Shoes were strewn haphazardly by the front entrance, and the sitting room had a few empty beer cans on the glass coffee table and socks on the sectional. He offered her a drink of water, which she accepted, following him into his spacious country kitchen. Sitting at the black granite island, Michonne watched Rick take out two bottles of water from his stainless steel refrigerator, the one with the freezers on the bottom. He plopped down beside her in the high back stools and waited for her to take a sip, keeping his stoic blues on the way she swallowed the water. The intensity of his stare not dissuading her from remaining silent in the moment, she savored the cold water as it soothed the heat from the outdoors.

Rick Reached into his pocket and took out her necklace, dangling it in front of her face. She signed, placing her half-full bottle down before reaching for the gold chain. Rick moved his unobstructed hand to clasp hers, sandwiching them and resting his hands on the island. Michonne tried to ignore the soft swipe of his thumb against the top of her knuckles, opting to silently pull her hand away to no avail. He wouldn't let go, and she battled with herself, knowing that they'd have to let go, eventually.

"I'm happy for you," he said unprompted.

"You said that last week at Andrea's, remember" she replied letting her shoulders relax as he continued his ministrations. A smile graced his lips, and she knew that he'd keep her here all day if she didn't say anything.

"I mean it. You're living your dream. Shit, I'm scared of leaving, but not you Michonne." he offered, releasing her hand and leaning back into his seat.

"Well, one of us needs to leave this black hole of a town. I mean, you just had to come back Rick. Really?" she said, giving him grief for the thousandth time.

"So… you really gonna marry that country ass boy?" he asked, glancing at her finger, which housed her engagement ring. The simple opal gemstone rested in the center of a thin gold band which shone against her umber skin. Daryl called it understated, she thought it was perfect for them.

"He's not a boy" she deadpanned.

"But he sure is country. If you wanted somethin' country Michonne, ya coulda just said so" Rick replied with a self-satisfied look.

"Shane was already taken Rick, couldn't go where a girl isn't wanted," she said, knowing she'd get a rise out of him. A beat passed before he said "About Saturday". Michonne shook her head no.

"We're good," she said, before continuing "I'm going to miss you Dimples" reaching over Michonne squeeze his cheek as he slapped at her hand.

"Don't come home eatin' kale and talkin' 'bout going vegan when you come back for Christmas," Rick said, breaking the moment and giving her an out.

"Who said I was coming home for Christmas?" she said, giving him her best poker face.

"You know Reg ain't havin' none of that miss thang" he replied knowing her father would in fact not take kindly to his only child not returning for the holidays.

"Whatever. I'll be seein' ya soon. Be good" she said, getting up from the table abruptly and walking through the hallway. She stopped at the door, turned around and slid into his embrace. The feel of his muscular back and biceps lulling her into a familiar sense of home. She breathed in the smell of Irish Spring, citrus, stale smoke, and the hint of fresh cut grass, burying her nose in the crook of his neck. Michonne felt Rick's lips at the top of her head, before she moved out of his embrace and walked through his front door, maybe for the last time.


On the way she turned on radio but found nothing worth listening to so she put on the CD currently in rotation. Generally, she enjoyed Daryl's taste in music but some of the bluegrass was a bit much for her. After the first album ended, the second began while a sad guitar filled the cab of the truck as she hummed along to the familiar melody of Lara Lynn

Change will come to those who

Have no fear

But I'm not her, you never were

The kind who kept a rule book near

What I said was never

What I meant

And now you've seen my world in flames my

Shadow songs my deep regrets

Michonne, turned off the highway, getting closer to her home. She felt for her necklace on her throat but remembered it was holding vigil in her pocket. The sun shone against her left hand as she glanced at her ring, her promise to Daryl and herself that she'd move forward. And yet, the phantom thread pulsing from the recesses of her heart to her hometown strummed like the melancholic guitar of the song she had played as second time.

Weren't we like a pair of thieves

With tumbled locks and broken codes

You cannot take that from me

My small reprieves

Your heart of gold

Weren't we like a battlefield

Locked inside a holy war

Your love and my due diligence

The only thing worth fighting for

xxxooooxxxxoooxxxoo

A/N: Thanks for reading. More to come.