The Party

Written by: avintagekiss24

STORY SUMMARY: Rick thought dinner parties were a thing of the past. But, he's going to try; for Carl, for Judith, and for the new woman in white.

A/N: I chose to rewrite this particular episode because I thought it would be cool to have Rick and Michonne meet in a semi-normal atmosphere. They don't know the benefits of knowing each other yet, they don't know how capable each other is out in the zombie apocalypse. They're just meeting like two normal people would without having to fight for their lives. -avintagekiss24

EP 5X13 Forget - New Canon Meet #2

"And, a martini dry for the lady." Aaron smiles as he passes Michonne the dainty cocktail glass.

She smiles in return, taking a sip before moaning a little out of satisfaction, "You have some sort of magic Aaron. I could never find a bartender that could make my martini's right."

"I do have magic, it's called being gay darling." He winks, drawing a giggle from her as he pumps her shoulder with his, "Have I told you how great you look tonight? That dress was made for just for you."

She rolls her eyes, clicking her teeth slightly as she brings the open triangle shaped glass to her lips again. She remembers when she found this dress. It was months ago when she was out on a run with Aaron. They had found this upscale neighborhood tucked away in the Virginian hills. The real estate in there was nothing less than a cool million if she has to guess, but it reminded her of home. Of Atlanta. It reminded her of her old life. All those nights at corporate events and lavish Christmas parties. Shopping downtown, getting her dreads twisted and curled. Showing off Mike to her colleagues… When she found the woman of the houses' closet, it felt like she was that Michonne again.

She ran her fingers over all of the expensive dresses and tailored pant suits and gazed at the massive high heel collection as a smile came over her face. She pulled out the white, floor length, satin dress and held it up to her body, tilting her head as she gazed at herself in the body length mirror. It had been a long time since she had felt like that Michonne. Reality came crashing in on her seconds later as the stench of rotting flesh hit her nostrils. The reanimated corpse of the owner of the impressive clothing collection came ambling up behind her, grabbing Michonne's shoulder. She dropped the dress and the walker in quick succession. She then stood there, her chest heaving, and gazed upon the clothes the hung on their hangers, now riddled with spots of blood and flesh. She turned toward the mirror and couldn't take her eyes off her reflection. Standing tall, gripping her katana, drops of blood on her face. That Michonne doesn't exist anymore. This is who you are now.

She picked the white satin dress back up after a moment, surprised to see that not a drip of blood had landed on it. It was still as pretty and pristine as it had ever been, despite being in this new world. A metaphor. She folded it up gently and placed it in her backpack before swiping a pair of Giuseppe heels and rejoined Aaron in the kitchen. Tonight was the first chance she had to show off her metaphor, even if no one else knew or even understood the meaning. She felt like that Michonne, and just for a night, she would hold onto it.

"I can't wait for you to meet the new group." Aaron gushes, scanning the party goers to make sure he hasn't missed their entrance, "They're tough, really skiddish, but I think they'll fit in well once they get acclimated."

Michonne remembered that feeling too. She made the journey from Atlanta to Virginia all by herself. By the time she had made it, by the time Aaron found her, she was talking to her dead boyfriend and son. She could even see them, after all of that time, it was still like they were standing right in front of her. She was so far gone before Alexandria. It was scary to think about, "You said the one guy punched you."

He laughs a little, before taking a swig of his beer, "Well, yeah, but I've been punched before."

Just then, a commotion at the front door draws Aaron and Michonne's attention. Aaron stands up straighter peering over the heads of Deanna's family and their fellow members before turning back to Michonne, "There they are. Let me go say hi. Don't disappear, I wanna introduce you."

She nods slowly, letting the cocktail glass linger around her lips as she watches the new group file in one by one. A young woman catches her eye first. She hangs loosely onto her boyfriend or husband maybe, as he runs his hand through his dark hair as Aaron approaches. They both smile widely, the young Asian man accepting Aaron's hand shake and beer. They both look so nice. A handsome couple. Then, there's a tall, red headed man, loud, booming almost, and a small, Hispanic woman, her hair pulled back into a low ponytail. He looks like the town drunk and she looks like a hard ass that takes no shit. After them, is a boy. A young boy, thirteen, fourteen maybe. He still has a certain wide eyed innocence but, he's already been through a lot. She can tell just by looking at him. Michonne take another sip of her drink, tapping her fingers against the glass, making soft clinks.

"Hey, Michonne."

A voice calls to her, pulling her attention away from the door to toward its owner. She smiles softly at the young man, "Hey Spencer. What's up?"

He tilts his head toward the newcomers, "You get a load of them?"

"Not yet."

He widens his eyes and lets out a breath, causing Michonne to laugh a little, "Tough crowd, that's all. I just tried to say hi to that little chick, the one with the ponytail. I think her name is Rosita or Rosa or something, anyway, she nearly bit my head off!"

Michonne laughs again lightly, "What do you expect? They aren't used to all of this. They've been out there for a long time."

"Yeah, but still. I was just trying to be nice."

Michonne gives him a stern, but motherly look, "There is no but still. You guys have spent the past two year ignoring what's out there. This," she waves her hand around to the house and alcohol and music, "Isn't going to seem normal to them for a long time. They're scared. Give 'em a minute."

He puts his hands up in the air, admitting his small defeat by offering her a sheepish smile. They make small talk for a while before they separate, Michonne migrating toward the kitchen to grab another small sandwich and some water before heading toward her favorite hideout. She sneaks out the backdoor, closing the sliding door softly behind her and walks to the banister, setting her martini and water bottle on it before she rests her elbows next to them. She chews on her sandwich slowly, glancing up at the moon and stars before a few voices catch her attention. She leans up a little, peeking through the trees to see a long haired man in a leather biker vest speaking to a shirt gray haired woman. She's trying to get him to come inside, but he resists every attempt, eventually turning and walking back down the street. Michonne knows that feeling too.

She's not sure how much time passes but she enjoys the quiet. The new Michonne isn't much for parties it seems, even in her pretty satin dress. She hears the sliding door and turns her head to the side, catching a glimpse of the ever so gracious Aaron with two men trailing behind him.

"I told you not to disappear." He scolds lightly, swatting at her arm, "Rick, Carl, this is my girl Michonne. She's sort of in charge of our runs and scavenging. Michonne, this is Rick Grimes and his son Carl."

"You're the one with the katana?" The young Carl asks, holding out his hand to her.

She takes it firmly, offering him a smile as they shake hands, "I am indeed."

"That is so awesome. That guy Spencer says you are super good with it."

She nods, laughing lightly, "It definitely took me a while to get the hang of it. It's a newly found skill. I can um, I can show you sometime, if you'd like?"

Carl's big eyes somehow find a way to get bigger as his face breaks into an excited smile, "That would be fucking amazing!"

"Carl." His dad scolds, hitting his arm with the back of his hand, "Watch your mouth in front of the lady."

The young boy scrunches up his face, "So Maggie, Rosita, Tara, Sasha, and Carol aren't ladies? You swear in front of them all the time."

Rick cuts his eyes toward his boy, "Go inside and check on Judy, huh?"

"I'll join you." Aaron pipes up, nudging Michonne discreetly before pushing off behind the kid.

She rolls her eyes, shooting daggers into Aaron's back as he retreats her leaving her with a stranger. She's still not all that good with strangers. She glances at the tall man before her as he punches the bridge of his nose before running his hands through his long hair, "Sorry, he's…. sorry."

"It's okay," she shrugs, "I've heard worse."

He shakes his head as he keeps his eyes closed before glancing off down the street, "I'm trying to keep him, civilized I guess. It's the only decent thing I can teach him anymore."

She nods, "I get that."

It grows silent between the two of them. He moves slowly beside her and leans over the banister of the deck, letting out a long, deep sigh. She stands tall, tapping her fingers against the wood as she looks out onto the street. She peeks over at him after a while. His head is lowered as he bites at his lip, deep in thought. It's like she's not even standing next to him. Her eyes linger over his freshly shaven cheeks and salt and pepper tresses. He looks nice in that blue button down and black jeans. A little too nice, actually. She glances down at his old, worn out boots, scuffed to all hell, stained with blood. It's a stark difference between his ironed button down and new jeans. Another metaphor. His linked fingers rub against one another slowly as they hang over the edge of the deck. They look strong; hardened and calloused, but still soft. Her gaze falls back on his face. He looks worried, scared almost. He's got to be their leader. It's written all over him. All of their lives are in the palm of his hand and he's worried. She likes that. He has a good energy, rough around the edges maybe, but mostly, it's good. She can feel it.

"It's okay that this feels weird." She states calmly, barely above a whisper, "I'm still not used to it either."

He stares out across the road, then looks up at her after a moment or two, "Yeah?" He voice is as soft as hers.

"Yeah. This isn't normal."

Rick swallows harshly as he watches this strange woman's eyes twinkle underneath the starlight. He doesn't trust a soul here and the thought of killing everyone, still plays through in his mind. Her words are cryptic and they almost make him want to pull his gun but; he knows what she means. This shit ain't normal. Not after everything he and his ragtag group have been through, but he needs to try. For Carl and for Judy, for Glenn and Maggie, who seem to already see something that he doesn't. He needs to try. That's what he keeps telling himself. She, Michonne, doesn't seem like the rest of them in there. It's almost as if she's a ghost, hovering between the world of the living and the dead. She does just enough to seem like she wants to fit in. She smiles, she makes nice, but yet, she still finds a way to hide in a house full of life. She hides in plain sight, and that's not usually a person you can trust. But, there's something… something genuine about her? He doesn't know, he can't- he can't really put his finger on it but she seems more like Rick and his crew, than Deanna and the Alexandrians. That comforts him a little.

"I better check on Carl." He clears his throat as he stands up straight, back away from the banister, "It was um, it was nice, meeting you."

He says it more like a question than a statement. She nods, smiling as her eyes drop to the ground, "Likewise." She points out behind her with her thumb, "I'm um, I'm at 1726 Ash lane if Carl wants to come by."

"I don't want him to bother you."

"It's no bother, really. I used to have a s-"She stops abruptly, just as the word is about to slip from her mouth. She drops her eyes again and bites her lip. She's hiding again, right in front of him. Rick tilts his head a little as he watches her disappear, "It won't be a bother." She smiles widely as she makes eye contact with him again, faking her way through the rest of the conversation.

He nods slowly as he pushes open the door, "I'm sure he'd like that. Thanks."

He disappears inside and she turns back to the street, letting out a deep sigh. She closes her eyes for a long moment before she reopens them and returns her soft gaze back to moon and stars. The door opens behind her again and reveals the only person she can really call her friend.

"So? He's cute, right? You should have seen him with that beard." Aaron says, replacing her empty cocktail glass with another stiff drink.

"I don't know about all that," She lies, not wanting to give into the fact that he is plenty easy on the eye, "He's the one punched you though, right?"

Aaron's eyes widen as he places his hand on his hip, "And just how do you know that?"

She shrugs, "I can just tell."

Aaron glances at her from the side, a smirk on his lips, "I think you and the handsome Rick are going to get along real well in the near future. You mark my words." She rolls her eyes but he's quick to stop her, "I mean it! He reminded me a lot of you when I first met them, that's why I brought them back. He's smart, you're smart, you're both natural leaders. You both know how to survive out there. You two plus Deanna could really do some great things with this place. That's what we need."

"You're too much." She laughs.

"It's just a plus that he's good looking." He shrugs, laughing as she shakes her head, "Listen, I can tell your people meter is just at about zero, so you wanna blow this joint? Eric is making spaghetti and I stole a bottle of vodka from Deanna's stash."

"Nice." She nods, "Let's do it."

Rick watches as Aaron makes his way through the crowd of people as the emotionally ambiguous Michonne trails behind him. He takes a sip of his beer as she watches them exit the house, his mind starting to wander again. White looks good on her.

"So, that Michonne lady seemed nice, huh?" Carl pipes up, breaking into his father's thoughts.

"Yeah." He says absentmindedly, "You like her?"

The boy shrugs, "Yeah. She seems pretty smart and from what Spencer says, she's pretty damn good with a horse and that sword of hers. He says she's only been her for a few months but she's been a really big help." Carl says, popping some pretzels into his mouth.

"Oh yeah?" Rick slides his eyes toward his son, "Well, don't get too cozy with anybody. We don't know these people."

Carl rolls his eyes, "Dad, come on."

"I mean it. This isn't normal. We have to stay sharp."

Carl sighs, nodding slowly, "Yeah." It grows silent between the two for a minute, both staring out at the group of people, "I like her." Carl says after a while, defying his father's warnings, "She seems really nice and I think she's pretty." Rick sighs heavily, cutting his eyes toward Carl again. I think she's pretty too. He doesn't say anything. He just looks down at the beer bottle in his hand as his son continues to speak, "I think we should give her a chance. Give this place a chance. This is what we've been looking for."

Rick is still silent, even after Carl stops talking. You have to try, for them, "She said you could stop by her place sometime."

Carl turns his head toward his weary father, "Awesome."

That strange woman wanders through his mind for a few minutes more before he literally shakes his head to get rid of her. He grabs the back of Carl's neck and finishes off his beer, "Come on bud, let's head out."

Deanna had offered them three homes but everyone crammed into Rick's. Out of fear, out of comfort, out of safety. They're spread out on the floor, Glenn and Maggie taking the couch. Rick looks over his shoulder, eying his son as he snores lightly, his arm slung over his sister. He turns back toward the window, staring out into the empty street as the moon splashes its white light over the black concrete. He thinks about the words his new neighbor said to him. It's okay that this feels weird. It's been hours since he met her, but he can't get rid of her. It's not just being here that makes him feel weird anymore. She did. In a way that he hasn't felt since… Lori. He spent all of five minutes with her and she stirred something up in him that he was sure didn't exist anymore. Adding to the fear and confusion of being here in the first place. He sighs deeply before dropping his head and pinching the bridge of his nose.

It's okay that this feels weird.