A/N: Hello Lovelies! I am glad to see you all are enjoying the story so far. This is a long chapter, 7K word count, so take your time. Thank you for reading!


Week by Week

Michonne sits behind the steering wheel as Rick curses loudly his frustration and kicks the tire as steam emits from the popped hood of the car. Michonne knows he is worried about his son and wife. She allows him several moments of his anger and frustration before she pushes open the driver's door and ambles out the cruiser.

She opens the back door and retrieves her baby duffle bag, filled with contains for her soon coming child. She swings it over her shoulder trying not to groan under the weight before she grabs Rick's duffle bag, filled with guns, ammo, and knives; his bag is twice as heavy as her. She picks up a couple of smaller bags with food and water before lastly grabbing her Katana and slamming shut the door. She waddles toward Rick weighed down by the bags she carries. She drops his bag by his feet as he leans over the cruiser with his head resting against his forearms.

Glancing up, Rick takes in Michonne's calm face and steady eyes. In the short amount of time spent together he knows Michonne is steady and strong. She stays rational in stressing situations and Rick finds both courage and strength in her calm. It is one of the things he is in awe of. He also knows he's going to need that strength and steadfastness. He nods at her once before picking up his weapon duffle bag. He swings it over his shoulder and takes her baby duffle away from her, swinging the bag over across his body and shoulder.

Michonne picks up the smaller bags placing one on her back and one on her shoulder before she clutches her Katana in her hand. Rick moves to the driver's door, pulls down the visor and removes a picture of his family before shutting the door. He gives the cruiser one final kick causing Michonne to smirk and toss him an incredulous glance before the two starts down the road.

"Are you going to say it?" Rick asks after several moments of silence passes.

She glances at him, an eyebrow raised with confusion, "Say what?"

"You really going to make me say it?"

Michonne smirks and shakes her head, "Rick, I have no idea what you're talking about."

"I told you so, aren't you going to say, 'I told you so'?"

Jerking back, she gives him a confused glance, "Why would I?"

"You warned me about the squad car, you told me to keep the Prius."

Rick is surprise when Michonne replies with a laugh and a shrug, "And?"

"So, you're not going to say, 'I told you so'?"

Michonne is quiet for a long moment thinking over Rick's question before she shrugs again and says, "What good will that do? We're here now and saying that will only serve the purpose of making me feel better."

He only nods in response. Rick adds Michonne's rational and wisdom to the growing list of what awes him of Michonne.

xXx000xXx

x-3 weeks later-x

"Like this," Michonne says moving behind Rick adjusting the dagger in his hand, "When you throw it, try to keep your wrist straight. You don't want to flick your wrist."

Rick adjusts his stance and allows Michonne to correct his hold on the blade. He tries to ignore her round belly rubbing against his back. He pushes down the pull he feels in the pit of his gut for her. Once Michonne is satisfied with his stance, she steps away and instructs him to throw the blade. Rick does as instructed, and launches the blade toward its target. When it lands several inches from the bulls-eye both he and Michonne high five each other with wide smile plaster on their faces.

"Great job!" Michonne cheers.

"I'm almost as good as you," Rick teases walking away from Michonne to retrieve the half dozen throwing knives.

"HA!" Michonne crackles, "All the practice in the world and you'll never be as good as me."

"Never say never," Rick says pulling the knives from the tree. As he pulls the last knife free, a blade flies pass his face and lands near his hand. His head snaps back to look at Michonne with wide eyes.

"Never," She replies with a coy smile. He shakes his head and chuckles before pulling out the blade.

"Fine, you may be an excellent knife throwing samurai, but I am still a better shot than you."

Michonne smirks with a shrug and says, "For now."

Rick raises his eyebrow and Michonne's smiles wider. Her brown eyes twinkles with mischief, he feels his own smile pulling on his mouth before the uncomfortable nagging feeling returns. Guilt. The guilt settles upon him, covering him like a second skin and weighing him down. His smile fades and his back stiffens from the weight of the guilt.

"We should get back to the cabin. We need to head out first thing in the morning," He says growing serious.

Michonne only nods, sensing the shift in his mood. She falls in step beside him. The pair thread through the wooden terrain until they reach the cabin they happened upon a few days earlier. They arrive at the cabin and Michonne immediately starts to prepare them something to eat.

"After we eat, you should get some sleep. I'll take first watch," Michonne says.

"You're terrible at watch, you always fall asleep."

"I can't help it. I really try to stay awake," Michonne pouts.

He feels himself wanting to smile but the guilt holds the smile at bay, "Don't worry about watch."

"You need to get some sleep as well."

"I will when we're on the road."

Michonne wants to argue with him but she can tell by the hard set of his eyes he's finish with their conversation. She sighs and finish preparing their meal.

They've been together for three weeks and the pair was no closer to Atlanta since when they first started. First the patrol car ran out of gas, soon after getting back on the road the old car blew a gasket. It took them two full days on foot before they were able to find an operational car but before they could go much further Rick got sick. He was still healing from his gunshot wound and broke out in a high fever. Rick didn't want to be near Michonne afraid he would put her and the baby at risk but Michonne wouldn't hear it. She kept herself covered and took care of Rick until his fever broke. Once Rick was healthy to travel again, a violent late summer storm postpones their plans. The storm caused them to hold up in an abandon gas station for several days.

It was the after effects of the storm that caused more delays. Once the storm past, they started their travels again only to discover multiple country creeks and ponds flooded which caused the nearby roads to swell with water. They had to reroute their drive to Atlanta several times, backtracking and retracing their routes. At one time getting lost in the backwoods of rural Georgia. Another setback came in the form of a large walker herd, the passing herd pushed them back west and south further away from Atlanta.

The pair found the abandon cabin and decided to wait out the passing herd of walkers; while doing so, they re-mapped their way and figured out what will be the best route to take to Atlanta. Assuring the roads were clear, Rick figured it was time to get back on the road and head towards their destination.

The time spent together wasn't all bad, the pair learned to trust each other and work as a unit to ensure their survival. They talked, joked, and laughed with each other. It was only when Rick started to feel guilty that he shut Michonne out. She could always tell when the feeling reeled its ugly head, by the hard look in his eyes and the firm straight line of his mouth. Michonne assumed it had to do with his family and not knowing where they were. She tried to talk to him, but he always shut her out and Michonne understood why; even if she didn't like it, she understood.

When she finishes preparing their food, she plates it on camping dishware and hands Rick his plate. He mumbles his thanks and waits for Michonne to settle down with her own plate before he blesses the food and starts to dig in. The pair eats in silences for most of their meal before Michonne speaks up:

"You don't talk about them much."

"What?"

"Your family, you don't talk about them."

Rick doesn't answer, he drops his stare to his plate and pushes the food around. He likes traveling with Michonne, like him she's not much for small talk and is comfortable with the silence between and when they do talk it comes with a natural ease. There's not a lot of dead air between them; he finds Michonne easy to talk to, easy to share his thoughts with and there's no judgement in her words or expression. He likes that, sometimes it is too easy to talk to her and he must remind himself not to get too familiar with her.

Even now when he's unable to share his fears, she's able to pick it up and express his truth, "You're worried something happened to them?"

"Yeah."

"I'm sure they're fine," Michonne says with confidence.

He glances toward her with surprise etch upon his face, "How do you know?"

"What does your gut say?" She answers with a question.

Taking a moment, Rick takes inventory of his thoughts, emotions, and most importantly his instincts. He's worried about his family but deep within the pit of his guts he knows they are out there, alive. It is just finding them and that's what scares him the most, not finding them.

"When my sister died… I felt it in my soul. It was like a piece of me dead along with her. When I got separated from my niece there was a longing but not an ache. I know she's out there and I pray daily she's okay. I imagine that connection, that soul tie is deeper when it is your own child or a spouse."

He soaks in her words and accepts them in silence continuing their meal. Once he finishes, he takes their empty dishes and cleans them off. He then packs the rest of their belonging while Michonne goes to shower. The cabin is old, but it has cold running water, an amenity that Michonne was very pleased to find.

"Michonne," Rick calls out through the door, he waits for the water to shut off before he speaks again, "I'm going to load the car and then check the parameter."

"Okay, be careful!"

"I will."

"I'll save you some cold water," She teases.

"You better," Rick replies with a chuckle shaking off the guilt that assaults him.

Rick takes their food supplies and loads it in the back of the Ford Bronco. He returns to the cabin, removes several Glocks, silencers, and rounds of ammo out the weapons duffle and places them within hidden compartments inside Michonne's baby duffle bag. From the weapon's bag, he loads his person with a machete, two more Glocks, and rounds of ammo before he takes the bag to the car. Rick moves the Bronco away from the cabin, close to the road before he checks the surrounding area and doubles back to the cabin.

When Rick arrives back to the cabin he finds Michonne prop up on the sofa lathering her skin with lotion she found on their last run before holding up in the cabin.

"Hey," He mumbles as he averts his eyes from Michonne.

"All well?" She asks.

"Yea, we're going to have a walk in the morning, I moved the car closer to the road."

She mumbles her agreeance as she continues to moisturize her skin. Rick steals a glance at her; she wears her skinny jeans, open displaying the roundness of her belly and a pale pink tank top with no bra. He takes in the sight he has become familiar with over the last three weeks, her full breast sitting high with harden nipples taunting him.

Accustomed to Lori's pregnancy with Carl, he knows how sensitive a woman's breast can be. Michonne stating this herself several times, he knows this is the reason she goes braless but it doesn't help relieve the mounting attraction to her. It is part of the guilt. He was always in awe of her but during the three weeks the awe grew into attraction and admiration.

Michonne hauls herself to her feet, as she moves her breast gives a soft jiggle and Rick averts his eyes again, feeling a stirring in his loins and the guilt intensifying in his gut.

"I'm going to shower," He announces before threading out the room.

She stares after him; his mood hasn't shifted yet and she worries about him. Michonne wonders what's going on with Rick. She wants to go after him, but she allows him his space. She just hopes they can get over this awkwardness between them.

xXx000xXx

Atlanta – 311 miles.

Michonne reads the sign and smiles, they were further south than they realized but they were making good times. Only 311 miles to go, at the speed she was going they would make it to the city limits in less than four hours. Michonne glances over at a sleeping Rick, before the day is over he would be in Atlanta. Her smile fades when she realizes the daunting tasks of finding his family in the vast area, but she's hopefully that he will be reunited with his family.

She gazes over at him again, he looks younger and at peace when he sleeps. All the tension and stress falling from his face, revealing the overt handsomeness of the man. Her belly flutters as she looks at him, the flutter has nothing to do with the baby inside her and everything to do with the handsome man. She smiles again before returning her eyes onto the road and pressing down on the gas pedal. The Bronco accelerates from 80 mph to 90 mph, Michonne keeps the wheel steady determine to hold up her part of the deal and helping Rick find his family.

xXx000xXx

Rick awakes with a jolt. The car jerks hard to the left, the tires screeches against the pavement while Michonne curses loudly besides him. He sits quickly upright and reaches out for her, throwing his arms out to brace her as the car leaps off the road and into a large ditch. Michonne jerks the steering wheel to the left and misses hitting a large tree head on. The Bronco spins in the ditch and comes to a slow stop clipping the back fender against a fallen tree.

The car whines and groans before it shuts down. Rick smells the gasoline and quickly moves to action. He undoes his seat-belt before he pushes the passenger door open. He then he turns to Michonne and quickly undoes her seat-belt, pulling her out of the driver's seat and the vehicle through the passenger door. Rick sinks into the muddy terrain of the country side ditch along with Michonne. He orders her to get away from the Bronco as he moves towards the back and tries to get as much as their supplies out the car as he can. She doesn't argue and quickly follows his command. He hears her groan and curse before her voice grows smaller as she puts distances between them.

Rick struggles getting the back door open, when he does it pops up and knocks him back a step. He scrambles to the car, pulling out the baby duffle bag, Michonne's Katana, his weapons cache, and one of the smaller bags before a small fire ignites on the dash. Weigh down with all he carries, he falls in the mud several times as he clambers away from the Bronco. The vehicle groans and the spark of fire catching sounds behind him. Rick climbs out the ditch onto the road where a muddy Michonne anxiously awaits him. Grabbing her elbow, he breaks out into a run with Michonne holding her belly and keeping stride with him. A large explosion sounds behind them as the Bronco goes up in flames, the blow back of the explosion is minimal due to the vehicle being in a low ditch.

Once out of danger Rick drops the items he carries and turns to inspect Michonne for any injuries.

"Are you okay?"

She only replies with a nod.

"Are you sure?"

Another nod. When Rick looks up into Michonne's eyes they are full of unshed tears.

"A dee- dear. Ii-it came out of no-no- nowhere," Michonne stutters in shock.

"Michonne?"

Her whisper name on his lips causes her to erupt in tears. She's relieved that they're alive. She feels a kick to her abdomen; her peanut is alive. She cries harder at the knowledge.

"Please don't cry. It's okay, we're okay. Please don't cry," Rick chants pulling Michonne against his chest as he wraps his arms around her. His words only cause her to cry harder. He holds her tightly within his arms, caressing her back and arms as he tries to comfort her. They stand in the middle of the empty road for several moments as Michonne gets her emotion in control. After the tears stop, Rick helps wipe her face clean and asks if she's okay.

She replies with a nod and adds, "Hormones."

Rick smiles and gives her one last hug before he collects their belongs off the ground. He hands her the smaller bag and her Katana, keeping the bigger bags for himself.

xXx000xXx

Over three hours passes before they come up to a white house that sits off the country road. The place appears to be abandon as the pair walks up to the first house they've seen in several hours. Rick peeks over his shoulder at Michonne, they've been walking for the past three hours. Her face tells a different story, but he can see the wariness written all over her, slumping her normally prideful shoulders. As much as he wants to continue he knows it's best if they stop for the night. After Michonne calmed from the car crash she told him they were about an hour away from Atlanta. They both wanted to make it to the city limit by night fall, but Rick knew that wasn't going to happen without a vehicle.

"Stay here, I'm going to check the house."

He expects her to argue but she only nods, it confirms her tiredness. Inside Rick finds a family that gave up or perhaps the choice was taken from them; it appears the father killed his family before killing himself. Rick takes a moment to calm his stomach from the gut churning sight. He then checks the rest of the house. The upstairs is clean but stuffy, he opens several windows and returns to cover the dead bodies with bed-sheets.

When Rick returns outside he finds Michonne sitting on the front steps, she looks up at him distraught with tears brimming her brown eyes.

"I shouldn't have sat down," She whimpers. Her large eyes look disheartening, it's adorable in a way and Rick has to fight a smile from spreading.

Rick kneels before her, moving a stray lock away from her face, "You should have told me you needed a break."

"I did."

"Not a restroom break, Michonne."

"I was fine… until I wasn't."

"Are you okay?"

She nods, "I just needed to sit down but I don't think I can get up now."

He smiles at her pout, he smiles at her stubbornness and determination, "Come on, I got you."

He wraps her arms around his shoulders, supports her back with one arm and her legs with the other. Rick gingerly stands to his feet and is surprise at how easily Michonne fits in his arms and how light she is, even with her swollen belly Michonne is light. He carries her inside the house warning her about the smell before slowly carrying her up the stairs. He finally puts her down in the cleanest room, which he assumes is the guest room with its neutral décor.

"Rest, take a nap. I'll wake you up when dinner is ready."

Michonne wants to argue but almost as soon as her head hits the pillow, a needy sleep pulls her under its wake.

xXx000xXx

A gnawing hungry and kicking in her abdomen pulls her from her deep slumber. She comes awake to the smell of cooking beans. As she sits up in bed, Rick appears at her side.

"Hey… hey… you're okay?"

"Yes. I'm fine," Michonne says slowly swinging her legs over the bed. Rick helps her stand, once on her feet she stretches and yawns.

"Feeling better?"

"Much, better. Bathroom?"

Rick smiles wide and for a moment, Michonne is mesmerize be his radiant smile.

"If you didn't like me before, you're really going to like me now," Rick teases leading Michonne to the bathroom. When he opens the door, Michonne is less then impress. The room is tiny, old, and falling apart. Leaving her side, he moves to the shower and turns on the faucet, a blast of hot water pours from the shower head.

"Oh Rick!" Michonne says flinging herself towards him and hugging him tightly. He laughs at her outburst without thought she kisses his cheeks which causes him to stiffen in her arms.

"Oh… uhhh. I'm sorry."

"Uhhh… nah, it's okay. I… I uhhh going to leave you too it. Don't use it all I still need a turn unless you don't mind the smell of funky man," Rick jests rubbing the back of his neck before he scrambles out the tiny space and closing the door behind himself.

"Fuck, Michonne," She whispers to herself slapping her hand against her forehead.

As if to agree with her, her peanut gives her a swift kick jolting her abdomen. "I don't need to hear it from you too," Michonne chides her son.

She's mindful not use all the hot water, it is tempting but she considers Rick needs to shower as well. Once her shower concludes she returns to their shared room, there's a note from Rick stating he went to look around the house and to eat. Michonne dries off and changes into clean clothes before sitting in a nearby chair and starting on her dinner. She's mostly finish by the time Rick returns, she expects the awkwardness from the bathroom flub to return but it doesn't. He grabs a few things and goes to enjoy his own shower.

Twenty minutes later her dinner is finish and Rick returns from his shower with a basin of water in his hand. He shaved again and his hair is still wet from the water. He looks handsome with his sparkling eyes and curls dripping water onto his t-shirt. He kneels before her slowly not spilling a drop of water placing the basin in front of her.

"What are you doing?" Michonne asks sitting up right as Rick takes hold of her sock cover right foot. He removes the socks, rolls up her jeans and place her swollen feet into the warm water. A moan escapes her lips as soon as her foot sinks into the water, the sound jolts his lower region, Rick must talk his desire from consuming him and embarrassing them both. He glances up and pauses at her breast. She's not wearing a bra, again. It has been a common occurrence; Michonne's complains her bra is too small and removes it much to his chagrin and delight. He forces his eyes away from the harden nipples and up to her eyes.

"Lori had high blood pressure when she was pregnant with Carl; her feet use to swell up bad. I found some Epson salt in the bath room and I remember it helped Lori. Thought maybe it'll help you too," Rick explains as he repeats the jester with her left foot.

"Thank you, Rick," Michonne whisper her thanks.

He nods his head as he takes his own plate of beans, peas, and spam.

"Have you thought of names?" Rick asks.

Peeling her eyes slightly open, she watches through her eyelashes Rick watching her. She rubs her belly, soothing her Peanut's kicks.

"Not really, I figured it will come to me once I see him. Until then he's Peanut."

"Why Peanut?"

Michonne smiles widely, her smile causing his heart to pick up pace. She has been having that effect on him, but he's been ignoring the sensation, constantly reminding himself of his wife. The constant guilt helps too.

"I was about six and a half weeks when I found out I was pregnant. The doctor said the baby was about the size of a peanut. It just stuck."

"Luckily, you didn't find out when you were ten weeks."

Michonne's brows knit in confusion, "Ten weeks?"

"He would have been the size of a kumquat. Imagine calling him Kumquat."

Michonne throws her head back and roars with laughter. Her laughter is intoxicating and enchanting. A soft musical melody of hope and joy. He pushes the guilt aside for the moment, relaxing and freely laughing along with her. It takes a while for her laughter to slow once it does she looks at Rick and asks:

"How do you know that?"

"Lori, she brought at least a hundred pregnancy books, I think she read one. Once day when cleaning I saw a book, 'How Big is my Baby? Week by Week fruit and veggie comparison.'"

Michonne laughter returns with a roar, she holds her belly as she rocks back and forth.

"Carl is how old? Thirteen? And you remember kumquat?" Michonne asks between fits of laughter.

"It was weird, like they couldn't pick another fruit or vegetable?"

"What else do you remember?"

"Twenty-five weeks is rutabaga. Uhhh… thirty-two weeks is a jicama…"

"A jicama? What is that?" Michonne asks gasping for air amid her laughter.

"I actually looked that up because I literally thought, what the fuck is jicama? It is a Mexican turnip, like a yam. Versatile and high in fiber."

"Sounds delicious," Michonne giggles.

"Since you're thirty-two weeks, I think you should start calling Peanut, Jicama."

Another roar of laughter overtakes Michonne, Rick laughs along with her. After a moment, Michonne sobers up. She holds her ever growing belly, looks down at it and asks in a serious tone, "Peanut? What do you think, do you like Jicama?"

A hard kick to her abdomen widens her eyes, her head snaps up towards Rick.

"I think he like Jicama."

"Really?" Rick asks nearing her. He places his plate down and extend his hand to her belly, "May I?"

They've kept their physical contact at a minimal but in the last 24 hours that seem to change. Biting her lips, Michonne replies with a simple nod. Rick's strong hand rest against her stomach, his warmth radiates from his skin through her, she feels her body temperature increase from the gentle touch.

"Peanut?" Rick calls out and wait but the baby lays inactive. He glances up at Michonne before looking down at her bump and say, "Jicama?"

He feels a kick against the palm of his hand, his response is the same as Michonne. His eyes widen in disbelief as he looks up and locks eyes with her.

"Jicama!" Rick repeats and once again the baby kicks. Rick laughs with delight as he continuous repeats the words. Michonne soon falls into a laughing snorting roar; she laughs so hard her abdomen ache from the combination of laughing and the baby kicks. Soon she has to asks Rick to stop saying Jicama so the kicking can cease.

"I guess Jicama is the winner," Rick smirks returning to his food.

"You can call him Jicama if you want, but he'll always be my Peanut."

"Sounds fair enough."

A comfort silence navigates the space for a long moment. Michonne softly hums a nameless tune as Rick finish eating his dinner.

"Tell me about Carl," Michonne asks.

Rick's eyes light up, his face softens and love fills his face as he tells Michonne about his son. She listens quietly as he recounts several stories about his son until a tangible sadness fills his voice from missing and worrying about his son.

"I promise Rick, we'll find him. We'll find your family."

He only nods believing her promise but unable to meet her eyes, "Come on, lets those dogs of yours elevated."

"Dogs?" Michonne asks with false offense.

"Some nail polish wouldn't hurt those puppies."

Michonne gasps, she reaches for the pillow propping her back up and toss it at Rick who ducks the throw and laughs. He moves toward Michonne with a small bottle in hand.

"What's that?"

"Peppermint oil."

Rick pulls Michonne feet out the water and dries them; sitting on the edge of the bed Rick applies the oil in his hands. He warms the oil by rubbing his hands together before he picks up Michonne's feet.

"Rick, you don't have to do that."

"I know, I want to," He replies staring deeply into her eyes. Michonne nods and lays back against the pillows watching Rick massage her feet. The feel of his hand on her causes an electric shock to race up and settle at the apex of her thighs. She discreetly presses them together while biting her lips and trying to swallow a moan. His hands are strong and gentle kneading her aching feet.

As he massages her feet, he tells her about the horse he found while he searched the property. He tells her it will be slow going but she can ride the horse until they find another form of transportation. Michonne quietly listens to him as she tries to sort of her feelings for Rick.

She was falling for him. In the passing week he went from travel companion to friend and now she was falling for her friend. It was hard not to. He is a good man. Smart, strong, kind, protective, provider, thoughtful, and funny. She could go on and list many pleasing attribute of Rick Grimes. She trusts him. She likes him. She's falling in love with him. Michonne knows nothing can come of it and that causes an ache to settle upon her heart with a nagging persistent. She only hopes the heartbreak of not being able to be with him completely doesn't hurt too bad.

xXx000xXx

It is near dawn when Michonne's bladder pulls her awake. She heaves herself out of bed and navigates the quiet hallway down towards the restroom. Once she completes her business she returns to the bedroom, Rick sleeps on the floor near the foot of the bed, snoring lightly. She offered him the bed but Rick wouldn't allow her to sleep on the hardwood floor. She smiles at his tenderness and thoughtfulness. Michonne quietly returns to bed, it creeks under her weight as she tries to find a comfortable position. Just as she starts to close her eyes a flicker of light catches her attention.

Slowly sitting up, she edges off the bed and pads towards the window. Another flicker of light races across the window right before it shuts off. Michonne takes a chance, she slowly moves the curtains and peers down to the front lawn. The sliver of moonlight shows the white rumbling truck coming to a slow stop in front of the house. The driver turned off the headlights but the brake lights can still be seen illuminating the country road behind the truck.

Michonne knows she needs to wake Rick but she waits to see how many people are in the truck. She already knows they are foe, if they were friendly they would have announced their arrival instead of trying to sneak up. The driver's door open, follow by the passenger side. A tall thin man steps away from the driver's side as an average build man quietly shuts the passenger side.

Quickly yet quietly stepping away from the window Michonne moves to Rick and kneels next to his hear. She shakes him gently awake.

"What? Are you okay? Is it the baby?"

"No, I'm fine. We're fine. There are two men who just pulled up to the house. We have to go," Michonne whispers calmly. Rick jolts to up but Michonne holds him still for several seconds trying to calm him. Rick places his hand over Michonne's and gives her a curt nod. Michonne removes her hand and the pair both rise to their feet. Michonne struggles with her long sleeve t-shirt but quickly toss it to the side as she reaches for her shoes. Rick quickly slips on his boots as Michonne struggles to put on her; Rick is at her side instantly, helping her slip into the boots and lacing them up for her. He then helps her stand. They both stiffen to a stop when they hear glass break.

"Come on," Rick whispers slipping the backpack that holds their food supplies onto his back. Michonne looks around for their other bags most importantly Rick's weapon cache. He looks down at her and realize she's only wearing a tank top on her torso, the tank-top rising up and showing her perfectly round belly. He picks up his jacket and help her into it. It is just the right size that it covers her completely.

"Where's the other bags?"

"Outside by the horse," Rick quietly replies against her ears before he takes hold of her hand. Michonne squeezes his in reply. The two carefully edge out the room, taking care to watch their steps. They listen to the footsteps and grumbles of the intruders. One curses loudly and retches, Rick assumes he uncover the dead body from earlier.

"Get your shit together, Fred."

"Tuck that's some nasty ass shit."

"I'm sure you fucked uglier."

The voices become distance as they move away from the stairs. Rick takes Michonne's hand and leads her to the back of the house. He pushes the door open and ushers Michonne inside, closing the door behind them. Michonne scans the room, trying to get familiar with the new space but Rick already seems accustom to it. He navigates the room with only the sliver of moonlight as his guide. He keeps a firm grip on Michonne's hand as he crosses the large space. At the rear of the room he opens the sliding door that leads to the balcony, he steps out and tugs on Michonne's hand. She follows a step after him before he closes the door behind him.

Rick leads her to a corner of the balcony and pauses listening for the intruders. Michonne strain her hears but she doesn't hear anything besides the creatures of the night and the soft wind.

"There's a wooden trellis against the house, I need you to climb down. It's old and rusted but if you go down slowly you'll be fine."

Michonne replies with a nod.

"As soon as I reach the ground start climbing down. Watch me."

Another nod. Rick gives her hand a reassuring squeeze before he releases her grasps. He climbs over the balcony, twist his body and starts down the trellis. It creeks and groans under his weight but stays firmly attached to the house. Michonne keeps her eyes on Rick, he quickly makes his way to the ground then waves for Michonne to following. She doesn't allow herself time to think, if she does she'll talk herself out of doing what is needed. She climbs onto the rail of the balcony, twist and allows her feet to find the first opening. Once her right foot is secure in its hold she slides her left foot and begins the process of climbing down. The trellis groans and creeks even louder as she climbs down, it shakes under her trembling hands.

"Come on, you got it. Almost there."

Michonne hears Rick's hush encouragement, she focuses on his words and continues the climb down. She only relaxes when she feels his hand on her waist. She releases her hold on the trellis turning around and wrapping her arms around Rick's neck.

"It's okay. I got you," Rick whispers hugging Michonne. He starts to release her but presses her back into his embrace against the outer wall of the house as soon he hears the sliding door open above them.

"See… I told you ain't nobody here!"

"That bed was fucking warm like somebody was just there and the wax was fucking soft."

"If someone's here then where the fuck are they?"

"I donno but someone was fucking here. A woman too!"

"How the fuck you know?"

"I smelt her soap. Shit smells good plus she left her shirt. Bitch smell good. I bet she looks good too."

Michonne feels Rick's arm tense around her. She hears his breathing pick up pace and the rapid rhythm of his heart.

"I don't care if she looks good or not it been a while since I had a woman."

"Mel ain't gonna like that. You know his rules, he wants the first taste!"

"Fuck Mel and his bullshit rules! If I find her first…" the man trails off.

Rick starts to move away from Michonne, but she holds onto him firmly, refusing to allow him to leave.

"They gotta be around here, maybe they still hiding in the house."

Their heavy footsteps retreat from the balcony. After a moment to reassure they're gone Michonne moves out from Rick's arms.

"Come on."

"Michonne they were…." He struggles with his words, "They are monsters."

"Please let's go."

It is the plea in her voice, the extra squeeze of his hand that encourages him to finally move. Using the moonlight as a guide, Rick leads them to the pasture where he tied up the horse.

"Can you hold a couple of bags for a little bit?"

"Yes, I can."

Rick loads Michonne with their food supplies bag and the baby duffle before he loads himself up with the weapon bag and horse saddle. He unties the horse and opens the gate, but before he leads them out takes Michonne's hand and gives her his shirt to hold.

"Don't let go."

"I won't."

xXx000xXx

Several miles away from the house and the unknown intruders. Rick stops to saddle the horse properly, he then helps Michonne climb on the horse with the baby duffle secure behind her. She grips the reigns tightly as Rick guides the horse by foot. Hours later with the mid-day sun pressing against their backs they pad the distance between them and the unknown intruders. It also helps that before making their escape completely, Rick slashed all four tires to delay any pursuit.

"I think you can climb on with me."

"It'll be too much for the horse."

They continue in silence for a moment, before Michonne pulls on the reigns to stop. The horse halts and catches Rick's attention, he turns to see Michonne struggling to dismount the horse.

"What are you doing?"

"I want to walk for a little bit."

"Michonne-"

"Rick Grimes! Calling my name as if you're reprimanding me is not going to work," Michonne snaps.

"I know. You're too stubborn," Rick fires back.

Michonne narrows her eyes at him, "Help me off this damn horse."

Begrudgingly Rick helps Michonne off the horse. She stretches and unzips his police jacket exposing a mound of lush chocolate cleavage, harden nipples, and a round taunt belly. She allows the jacket to hang open and tries to pull her tank-top down before she shrugs. She rubs her belly as she starts walking down the road. Rick watches her for a long moment grumbling under his breathe before he tugs on the horse's reigns and follows her.

"You have to let it go," Michonne says.

"How? How can I let it go?" Rick snaps. He inhales deeply before exhaling, trying to calm himself, "They are monsters. They were going to hurt you."

"But they didn't and that is because of you. You and your quick thinking."

"What if-"

"No need for what ifs, we made it out okay. You, me, and Jicama," Michonne says. The last part succeeds in getting a smirk out of Rick. She also smiles in return, "I told you before with this new world Rick, it is the people. It is not the dead but the living. We just have to be smarter and better than them."

He nods but refuses to look at her, Michonne steps in his line of sight causing him to stop. She places a warm hand on his left cheek, gently guiding his eyes to hers. She can see the simmering dark anger within the blue depth, a part of her takes comfort in his anger. She knows this man will go to dark depths to protect the people he cares for. Her heart skips at the thought, at that hope of Rick caring for her.

"We're okay," She says caressing his cheek and smiling softly. She reaches out for his free hand and lays it on belly, "We're okay."

Allowing himself to sink into the alluring deep brown depths of her eyes and warm smile, he soaks in her calm and courage. He allows her soft words to dissipate his anger. He waits for the guilt to assault him but it doesn't come. He releases a deep breath and nods as he returns her smile. She's okay. Her child is okay. They're okay. He's okay.

"We're okay," He repeats gently stroking her bare extended stomach, "We're okay."


Next Time on New Days:

The image will be forever burn within the recess of Lori's memory.

Rick running and putting down walkers with his weapon extended in his left hand all while holding the hand of woman, a very pregnant woman who does the same with her free hand. Rick fires to his left, the woman to the right with Glenn and Daryl flanking their side and T-Dog covering the rear.

The wind catches the woman's long hair causing it to fan around her face like a halo. Her mahogany brown skin glistens in the summer sun. No fear shows on her beautiful visage only a calm determination, a mirror of Rick's own expression. Rick is almost running at full pace and the woman keeps pace. He's dress in his Sheriff's Deputy uniform and she wears his jacket.

At the sight of the pair a poisonous envy births inside Lori.


A/N: Next Chapter Rick finds his family. Yayyy! Right?

Thank you, thank you, thank you and thank you some more for taking the time to read my story. I appreciate you all! Thank you!