A/N: Here's chapter one of a collaboration I did with tigerwalk, sophiasown, and inkslinger21: "It's a Celebration." Please check out the rest of the story on weretheoneswhowrite's ff page. Title of chapter is curtesy of sophiasown.

Summary: Judith is great at keeping secrets... at least she thinks so.


"I swear to God Rick," Michonne warned, flat on her back, desperately trying to shimmy into her dark-washed extra skinnies. "I hear even the hint of a laugh out of you, and you're in big trouble mister!"

Rick stood at the threshold of their ensuite bathroom gaping at the vision of his wife sprawled across their bed, grunting loudly as she attempted to pull up her favorite – and his too – pair of jeans. He leaned one arm against the doorway as he studied her, spellbound by the arousing gyrations taking place just a few feet away. His other hand gripped the towel loosely slung low around his waist, as he bit his bottom lip to prevent himself from displaying any signs of merriment. Michonne lifted her head from the mattress to peer over at him, taking in the full view of his labor-sculpted torso, scarred and battered, but still amazingly strong, resilient, and oh, so sexy.

The amusement in his eyes shone brightly as Rick absentmindedly leaned back to stretch out the taut stiffness of his lower back. The steam from his scalding shower had done their job in relaxing his muscles and soothing the soreness that still plagued his right knee, never fully healed so long after their war with the Saviors.

Heat from the shower had caused the skin of his upper body, lightly dusted with hair, to take on a pinkish hue. The sun streaming through the sheer curtains of the bedroom windows highlighted small droplets of water as they ran down his nearly-dry body. He ran his hand through his still-damp hair, pushing the curls off his forehead, as he contemplated how best to approach his aggravated wife, currently mired in a fruitless struggle to pull up her jeans.

A particularly loud groan from Michonne, still prone on the bed, elicited a throaty guffaw from Rick. The sound caused Michonne's head to jerk up off the bed and stare daggers at him. Damn. She didn't look pleased. He released his hold on the towel, letting it fall onto the carpeted floor as he stepped over it on his quest to help his love.

Might be somethin' I can do to help.

"Not one step further Rick," she cautioned, finding nothing amusing about her current predicament. "You know better than to laugh. You should be on your knees thanking the heavens my katana is downstairs."

They were nearing the fourth month of her pregnancy and she had spent much of the past week lamenting how nothing seemed to fit. She hated it, but he was not-so-secretly thrilled. He was elated to see the actual physical changes to her body. The prospect of finally reaching the point where they could build something that would last beyond themselves had brought him unimaginable joy.

He tried not to smile, but "Mad Michonne" was a favorite of his and she looked so adorable when she was frustrated over things she ordinarily wouldn't have given a second thought. Threats of bodily harm aside, she looked delectable. Her preciously tiny bump had finally taken root and he marveled at the way her already unbelievably soft skin had become even silkier. Her lustrous skin seemed to glow from the inside out, leaving him to ponder how such a constitution was even possible in this still rough and tumble world.

The morning sickness had subsided, and she was feeling more like herself again. For that, he was grateful. Grateful for the now nearly nightly reaches towards him. Grateful for her new predilection for early morning escapades. Grateful for the sheer voracity of her passion. Grateful for all of it.

"Awwww, sweetheart," he began, biting his lip a bit too harshly in an attempt to dampen his mirth. "Why don't you try somethin' easier to wear? I got you all those pants during the last run, an–"

"I'm not wearing elastic waist-band pants Rick!" she groused, the emotional response from his usually even-tempered wife startling him just a bit. "I don't know why you got me those in the first place. They aren't even my style."

"I got them because I want you to be comfortable Michonne," he claimed, giving up on the impossible task of preventing his smile from emerging. She was just too damn gorgeous when she was upset over something so petty. He couldn't help relishing in the moment.

"Riiiick," she drawled. "No one should ever be that comfortable. It's a slippery slope and it always starts with elastic waist-bands. Before you know it, it's sweats at all hours of the day, and wearing a hair wrap outside. No sir. I am not the one."

He furrowed his brow and cocked his head to the side, baffled by her logic. How could comfort be a slippery slope? She read the confusion on his face. Sighing deeply, she began,

"My entire pregnancy with Andre, I dressed like me. I vowed pregnancy wouldn't ruin my fashion sense. If anything, I was even more stylish, if I do say so myself. I'm not going to be wearing sweatpants and caftans with this one. I refuse!"

"First of all, I don't even know what a caf– cat– Wait, what was it again?" he queried.

"It's caftan Rick," she grumbled, giving him a protracted eye roll. "You just proved my point. You have no idea what's stylish."

He chuckled again, looking down at her from the side of the bed. She had managed to get the jeans past the smooth, sleek softness of her thighs, but was fighting to get them beyond her widened hips and the additional… cushion that had added glorious padding to her backside.

His eyes tracked her movements as she writhed on their bed, clad in only a lavender lace bra and matching panties. Gazing at her, he felt that familiar stirring. That well-known pull towards her that he could never bring himself to resist.

She looked over towards him, her eyes bulging as she took in his stiffening member.

"Are you serious Rick?" she implored, finding his eyes expertly trained on hers. "We don't have time. We need to be out of here in 30 minutes, which will be a miracle in itself."

Swooping onto the bed to straddle her, he shrugged and asserted, "don't need much time. I'll be quick… I promise."

"Yeah, right," she said, allowing him the honor of a smile and a short laugh. "You can only fool me so many times with that line. I'm not falling for it anymore."

"Aw, c'mon sweetheart," he whispered, playing dirty as he leaned down to run his tongue over the outer edge of her ear lobe. "Just a little sugar for daddy. Please?"

She giggled. He looked so sexy peering down at her. His curls falling back onto his face, the light scattering of hair glistening across his damp chest. But, she was a strong woman. She wasn't going to be swayed by the walking distraction that was Rick Grimes.

"If you don't get off of me, we're never going to leave the house Rick."

"Hmmmm. I don't see a problem there. Do you?"

"I'm serious. Just help me pull these up and zip it. Maybe I can use a cloth belt or something to hold them closed…"

"Nah," he whispered, scooting backwards and attempting to pull her jeans back down to her ankles.

"Rick," she sputtered, gripping the jeans by a belt loop as she tried to keep them on her. "What are you doing? It took me 10 minutes to get them this far!"

"I got a better idea," he said, turning her jeans inside out as he pulled them off and tossed them onto the carpeted floor.

He looked down at her, taking in the sublime expanse of dark, unbelievably glossy skin that covered her body. He could sup from her all day and never be satiated.

"Well?" she asked, annoyed that he was just standing there, even though she didn't mind staring at his wonderfully naked self for a moment. "You just going to stand there, or are you going to actually help your wife out?"

Smirking, he turned and walked towards their closet, allowing her the distinct pleasure of watching his cute little butt and bowed-legs from the back. A slow creeping smile crested over her face as he disappeared into the closet. Maybe they did have a little time for some fun.

After rummaging for what felt like forever, he came out holding a red sundress covered in daisies. She gave him a curious look as he smiled broadly at her surprise.

"Where'd you get that?" she questioned, looking at the beautiful, vintage-style dress in his hands.

"Found it sittin' in the window of some shop during our last run," he stated, pleased that he had picked right. He smirked as he continued, "thought it'd look perfect on you."

Her smile brightened as she got up from the bed and walk over to take a closer look. She took it from his hands, running her hands over the exquisitely soft material, admiring the rich color, as well as the fashionable open back and halter neckline. The loose bodice would be perfect for skimming over her growing bump and concealing their little surprise. It was perfect.

"It's perfect Rick," she whispered, her chin beginning to tremble. "Who am I crying over this? Jeez. These hormones will be the death of me!"

Pulling her into an embrace, he said, "I love you sweetheart. Wanted you to have somethin' nice."

He bent down to capture her lips, crushing the dress between them as his tongue explored her mouth. Soft moans rose from both of them as her body, flush against his, felt the inescapable indication of his arousal.

What's a few more minutes?

A loud bang from downstairs interrupted their revelry. The subsequent "everything's fine!" brought laughter and recognition there'd be no afternoon delight.

"Saved by the bell," she sighed, looking up to catch the mild annoyance in his eyes.

He nodded. Plenty of time for that tonight.

"You need to get ready anyway," Michonne stated, taking the lovely dress from him and shaking out wrinkles their brief dalliance had caused. "I need to go down there and make sure those kids haven't destroyed all my hard work."

Untying the halter neck closure, Michonne stepped into the dress and drew it up her body, watching Rick's eyes follow its path as she pulled the top of the dress around her neck and turned her back towards him.

"Tie me up?" she purred, feeling the heat emanating from his body as reached out for the strings and tied a bow at the back of her neck.

Completing his task, he took a moment to trail his calloused hands over the warm, smooth expanse of her back, his tender caresses causing tingles across her skin. He leaned in, placing wet kisses onto her back, while gripping her hip to hold her in place as he brought her back flush with his front. She chuckled, knowing what game he was trying to play, yet again. Unfortunately, they didn't have time.

"Woah, cowboy," she teased, turning to face him.

The pout on his lips only added to her amusement. She rose onto her toes and pulled him towards her as he leaned down to share a long, leisurely kiss that pulled the air from both of them. She released his lips, exhaling slowly as she planted her feet back onto the ground and smiled up at him.

"Don't be too long," she said, turning her back to him as she made her way downstairs.


"Judith, what did I just say?" Carl asked, irritated by his baby sister's inability to listen to his instructions. "You can't sit on the counter playing around or you'll fall and hurt yourself. You already dropped your toys."

Judith looked over at her brother, slumped against the stove, ladling the deer stew that Michonne had lovingly prepared into the large serving containers Enid had brought from the pantry. It smelled delicious. So delicious that Carl had snuck a few mouthfuls as he emptied the pot. Enid, from her perch on a barstool in front of the island, covered her mouth to keep from laughing aloud. The banter between Carl and Judith always tickled her. Feisty Judith was something to behold.

"Na-ah," she declared. "Mommy lets me sit on the counter and help. She always needs help and says I'm the best because you do things the wrong way and she has to fix it. Annnnd, you always eat stuff when s'posed to be for everyone! Right Enid?"

"Sorry Carl," Enid said, the laughter evident in her eyes as she took in the comical look of annoyance her boyfriend was throwing her way. "She does make a good point."

"Whatever Judas," Carl retorted, rolling his eyes as Enid tipped her head towards the ceiling and snorted with laughter.

Judith leaned back onto the countertop, her self-satisfied smile raising a short cackle from Carl. Judith narrowed her eyes, her little brows furrowing in tandem. If there was one thing his sweet-faced baby sister didn't like, it was not being in on the joke. Busted taking a few bites from the dish, he knew Judith would tattle the minute Michonne and his dad came downstairs.

"How about I give you a bite Judith," he cajoled. "C'mon now. It's your favorite."

Judith looked over at him. She really did want a bite, but… Mommy said it was for the party. So, with the patience of Job, the little girl reluctantly shook her head.

"Unbelievable," Carl muttered, once again taken aback by the willpower of the soon-to-be three-year-old.

"Judy," he called out, hoping to distract her with a different topic. "Do you remember what we talked about yesterday? About the baby?"

Judy looked at him, not understanding the question. "Yeah…I remember."

"We said we weren't going to talk about the baby, even though it's really, really exciting," he continued.

"'Course!" Judith huffed, crossing her little arms over her chest. "Everybody knows that."

She cast Carl a withering stare. Mommy had already told her it was a secret. Mommy said it was family business. Judith knew this meant it was only for Mommy, Daddy, Carl, and herself. And sometimes Enid, but no one else. She was really good at keeping secrets. After all, she hadn't told anyone about the chocolates Mommy kept in a box on the floor of her closet. Mostly because Mommy would sneak her a piece when she was being good. And Judith tried very hard to be good and make Mommy proud.

"Ok then," he replied, unable to prevent his lips from curling upwards as he took in Judith's perturbed countenance. "Just make sure you don't or I might have to tell Mommy…"

"Make sure she doesn't what?" Michonne asked, looking towards Carl as she cleared the doorway and stepped into the kitchen. "You better not be teasing my sweet girl. Isn't that right baby?"

Michonne look on as Carl first shook his head, then tipped it towards the ceiling, silently lamenting the clear bias towards all things Judith. Usually, he was onboard. But he didn't trust his nosy, talkative little sister to hold water, let alone a secret she'd been so excited about. He brought his eyes back to the task at hand and finished scooping the stew into the containers and covered them with matching lids.

"Mommy!" Judith exclaimed, reaching her arms out towards Michonne. "You look so pretty!"

"Thank you, baby," Michonne replied, walking towards Judith's spot on the countertop. "Carl, what exactly did you do to get my Judy-bug all riled up?"

Carl turned from the stove and cast a glance towards Michonne, now leaning across the center island and pulling the now compliant Judith into her arms. As she opened her arms wider to be picked up, Judith threw a smirk her big brother's way, then discreetly stuck her tongue out at him while snuggling into Michonne's arms.

"Why do you think I did something?" Carl began, willing to relinquish for a moment his role as protective big brother in an effort to teach Judith a lesson. "You know, she's not a baby any more. She knows exactly how to play you Mom."

Michonne pivoted to take a look at Enid, smiling broadly as she quietly took in the usual morning shenanigans in the Grimes household. Having gotten to know this spirited young woman who loved and challenged her son, Michonne exchanged a complicit grin with Enid.

"Hmmmm. Maybe because you always do something," Enid began, looking directly at the scowl now framing Carl's face. "I think the point of being a big brother is to, oh, I dunno, be the mature one. How's Judith gonna learn?"

"Yeah Carl," Michonne piled on, watching as Carl's head swiveled between Enid's obvious betrayal and Michonne's, before landing on the true culprit: Judith, who's sunny smile belayed the trouble she had just dropped into her brother's lap.

"You're her role model Carl," Michonne continued, glee sparkling in her eyes. "How will she learn if you don't lead her down the right path?"

"Ok, ok, I got it," Carl surrendered, raising his hands in the air. "If you don't want my help preventing Judith from spilling the beans, then don't say I didn't warn you. Judy-bug is a leaky boat."

Eyebrow raised, Carl dramatically shrugged his shoulders, before tilting his head towards Enid, gesturing for her to get up.

"C'mon, let's get this in the car, then go over to see if Rosita wants to drive over with us."

"I thought she went with Eugene and Tara?" Michonne asked, holding Judith on one hip, while gripping a bowl of sliced apples in the other hand and gesturing for Judith to take a piece. "Didn't they leave last night? Eugene needed to set up the lighting for the dance floor and Tara wanted to learn how to do it."

"Yeah, well, you know how Rosita is," Carl began, gripping the large container as Enid stacked smaller ones on top. "She's not exactly… the party type. You know how she complains when we have these things. She hates happy people, always griping and looking miserable."

"Carl," Michonne chastised, pinning him in place with her glare. "You know that's not true. She's been struggling… it's been awhile, but some wounds take longer to heal than others. She still feels guilty. We just need to give her more time. Trust me. She'll come around."

Carl nodded, chiding himself for not being more understanding. Balancing the containers in his hands, he turned towards the front door, with Enid following closely behind.

"I'll load this into the car and meet you guys out there in 20 minutes," Carl stated. "Let's see if we actually leave on time."

"Bye-bye!" Judith cheerfully called out as she wrapped her little arms around Michonne's neck.

"See you in a few," Michonne added. "Come on Judith, let's go find your shoes."


"So, my lovely," Michonne said, rubbing noses with a giggling Judith as she walked them over to the couch to help Judith put on her shoes. "What exactly did you do to your brother?"

Judith leaned away from Michonne, scrunching her little face as if she had just taken a hard suck from a particularly sour lemon.

"Nothing Mommy!" she exclaimed, her hands playing with the crimped edges of Michonne's locs, now adorned with the gold clips Judith so adored.

"Nothing huh?" Michonne replied, reaching under the coffee table for the white sandals with flowers on the buckles Judith insisted on wearing whenever anyone mentioned a party. "If I ask Carl, what is going to tell me?"

"Ahhhh," Judith pondered, debating whether or not to give up the goods. "Weeelll… Carl keeps saying I'm going to tell about the baby, but I already know I'm not supposed to tell. Carl keeps saying that I will. But I won't Mommy! You said it was family business and I know what that means."

"Oh baby," Michonne cooed, looking on as Judith furiously tried to puzzle through the logic of Carl's proclamations. "I know you're a big girl. You know Carl's just playing with you."

"Well, I don't like it," she announced, once again crossing her arms over her chest and letting out a exaggerated huff. "I know lots of stuff and I don't tell. I know Daddy walks into the bedroom with his boots on when you're not home, even though he's supposed to keep them by the door so we don't track dirt into the house. Or when Carl cleans his gun on the dinner table when he's supposed to do it in the garage! See! I never told anyone!"

Michonne couldn't hide the look of bemusement on her face as Judith, indignant as ever, unknowingly proceeded to spill tea on both Rick and Carl. When she had satisfactorily completed her rant, she leaned back against the couch cushions and crossed her legs.

"See Mommy?" Judith said, fully expecting her mother to take her side. "I can keep secrets!"

"I know you can baby," she said, leaning over to give her a soothing rub on the back as Judith nodded her head in agreement.

"Mommy, I want to wear my red dress to match yours," Judith began, already forgetting about her previous rage. "Can I change? I don't like this dress anymore."

"Judith, we don't have time," she began, ignoring the look of vexation taking over Judith's cute features.

"Pleeeaassse Mommy?" Judith implored, those big sorrowful eyes looking up at Michonne through long, nearly blonde eyelashes. "I want to match your dress. Please?"

Michonne didn't stand a chance. Not with that face peering up at her.

"Alright Judith," Michonne acquiesced, buckling Judith's sandals.

A smile rocketed across Judith's face and she quickly jumped down from the couch.

"Just make sure you let Daddy help you because we only have 10 more minutes."

"Ok Mommy!" she called out, running through the living room and up the stairs.


"Daddy!" Judith cried out, short of breath as she rounded the corner towards her parent's bedroom and ran right into Rick's shins.

"Slow down Judith!" Rick exclaimed, grabbing her by the shoulders before they both landed on the ground. "Where's the fire?"

"Nowhere!" Judith exclaimed, looking up at him. "Mommy said I have to hurry and change my dress. You have to help me put on my red dress so we match!"

Rick laughed as Judith raced around him towards her bedroom, lifting her yellow sundress over her head as she ran. He followed her into the room, looking on as she frantically opened up her closet door.

"There it is!" she excitedly shouted, pointing to the dress sitting prettily on the hanger.

Rick leaned over and plucked it from the rod, bring it down for Judith's perusal.

"It's perfect," she stated, clutching the dress to her chest while gently rubbing the fabric.

Rick pulled the red dress with white polka dots over Judith's head, careful to not mess up the two ponytails Michonne had artful created on Judith's head, even though Judith herself had set them slightly askew when she haphazardly pulled off her previous dress. Rick smoothed down the dress, as Judith excitedly spun around for him, the movement causing the dress to swirl around her.

"You look beautiful sweetheart," Rick said, bending down to her height to lean in and give her a hug.

"Thank you, Daddy!" Judith replied proudly.

Pulling her into his arms, he lifted her up as he rose to his feet.

"Remember what we talked about?" Rick began, as he walked out of her room and into the hallway. "We can't tell anyone about the baby, right?"

"I know Daddy!" Judith sighed, rolling her eyes theatrically.

Gonna have to talk to Carl about all that eye rollin' rubbin' off on his sister.

"I'm good at keeping secrets. I never even told you about Mommy's chocolate!"

"Oh Judy, everybody knows about Mommy's chocolate," Rick grinned.

"But I didn't tell you!" Judith insisted, her wide eyes capturing her fathers as he held onto the railing and carefully walked them down the stairs.

"I know sweetheart, I know," he soothed, giving her a kiss on the cheek as they cleared the bottom step and walked into the kitchen. He smiled at her obliviousness to having just done exactly what she said she didn't do.

He spied Michonne across the room, picking up their overnight bag from its spot next to the front door. He stared as she quickly slipped on her white strappy wedges. She was breathtaking. She looked up at him, taking him in as he carried a smiling Judith towards her.

"You ready?" she asked, reaching for the door knob.

"Yeah," he replied, leaning in to place a soft kiss on her lips. "Let's head on out."

She smiled into his kiss, finally releasing him as he straightened up, Judith still firmly in his arms. Michonne turned and opened the front door, slinging the bag over her shoulder and reaching behind her for Rick's hand. Rick slid Judith to the ground as he closed the door, freeing his hand to grasp Michonne's as they walked down the stairs and towards the waiting car.