Michonne checks the time on the oven and opens the door to check the lasagna. 10 more minutes and it will be ready. Rick should be arriving in 20 minutes; things seem to be on schedule. She doesn't know why she feels nervous. She just had lunch with him earlier. He's just a man, with an 8-year-old son. A man that she works with- sort of. A man with a sexy as hell accent, as if his southern drawl was made for just him, no one else sounds like him. Why does he have to sound like that anyways? And those damn blue eyes. Why are they so blue and beautiful? Why is she having these thoughts?

She checks the clock again. It's been 5 minutes since the last time she looked.

"Pull it together Michonne." She tells herself. "He's just a friend. Keep it that way."

The lasagna is cooling on the counter so she checks the lemonade she made for Carl. It's sweet enough for an 8- year old boy and the beers in the fridge are cold enough for the boys father. She smiles to herself as the doorbell rings. She paces her steps as she checks her clothes and steadies her breathing.

Opening the door, she is met by two pairs of beautiful blue eyes. She's not sure which ones to look at first, but she settles on Carl's. His dark hair and cute little face all but melt her heart. She almost forgot about Rick standing there.

"Michonne, this is Carl. Carl, this is Ms. Anthony"

"Please, call me Michonne. It's nice to meet you Carl. Please, come in."

They both step inside the small, but inviting and comfortable home. Looking around at her nice furniture and bare walls, Rick chuckles quietly at her lack of art hanging up as he remembers the reason why.

"We didn't come empty handed. Think of it as a house warming gift."

Rick hands her a black canvas tool bag trimmed in purple with matching purple tools loaded inside. There's even a pretty red bow on the handle of the tool bag. She smiles at the gift and laughs.

"I tied the bow." Carl adds

"It's a beautiful bow. Thank you, Carl. Now I can hammer my own stuff, without having to borrow any tools." And its purple; how did you know that was my favorite color?"

"You were wearing purple under your bowling shirt and I notices that all of your artwork in your office have some shade of purple in them. I just took a guess."

"Thank you."

Rick and Michonne allow their eyes to linger on each other for longer than what Carl thinks is necessary. Noticing the weird looks coming from the adults in the room, he tries to break the tension.

"Is that lasagna I smell?"

"It is. Come this way to the kitchen."

She places the tool bag on the kitchen counter and motions with her hand.

"We can eat at the island since the table is in a box on the floor."

Both Carl and Rick look to the corner to see the big flat cardboard box.

"Is all that food for us? It's just the 3 of us, right? Carl asks

"Yes, it is. It's my grandmother's recipe and it feeds about 8. But you will be taking home leftovers, so I hope you like it because you'll be eating it for dinner tomorrow."

"That sounds good to me." Rick says. " Carl, what do you say we put the table together before we eat? Work up an appetite."

Michonne looks over at Carl.

"How about it Carl, you can help me get familiar with my new tools."

Carl smiles at her, he's hungry but figures 3 people working together should make quick work of the assembly.

"Wow Michonne, this is the best lasagna I've ever tasted. My mom just makes the frozen kind. They don't taste anything like this."

"Thank you Carl. Maybe one day I'll share the recipe with you."

"Oh, cool. Dad and I need some new foods to eat."

"Is your dad a good cook?"

"He's decent. We don't starve or anything. It's nothing like this though."

Rick smirks at his sons' comments. "Thanks Carl."

"Well maybe next time we can eat at the kitchen table. It looks so good in here. I'll whip up something special for you Carl. For helping me with my new tools."

Carl and Michonne continue their conversation, practically ignoring Rick. He was okay with it. It was nice to see his son happy and engaging in good conversation with such a nice person. He chanced a look over at the newly assembled kitchen table and his thoughts wandered back to putting it together with Carl and Michonne. It was easy to put together after Rick finally decided to look at the enclosed instructions. He thought back to when he asked Michonne for them and she had to look over her shoulder to find them. Then she crawled over to them on all fours and had to bend slightly at the waist to reach them. His heart nearly stopped at the sight. He was happy Carl was too engrossed in finding the allen wrench to notice he was staring at one of the most enticing asses on the planet.

"Dad. Dad. Earth to dad."

"Oh I'm sorry Carl, I must have got lost in my thoughts there. What were you saying?"

"Michonne says she has lemon merengue pie. Isn't that your favorite?"

"Oh yeah. Yes it is."

Oh, that's great. I hope you all left room for a slice."

"Or two?" Carl asks looking at Rick.

" How about one and one to go." Michonne says

"That works too." Carl smiles.

"I'll tell you what, Carl. I'm going to let you in on one of my secrets. We won't share it with your dad. You can partake in said secret while your dad and I get things straightened up and get the pie ready."

Carl looks over at Rick slyly. "Okayyyy."

"Good. Come with me."

Michonne walks Carl to the guest bedroom and turns on the light. He notices crates covering most of the floor.

"Do you like comics?"

"Yeah!"

"This is my comic book collection."

"All these comics are yours?"

"Yep. I was a bit of a loner in school. My comics kept me company, then I couldn't stop reading them until a series ended. I'm trying to find a better place for them than these crates, but for now, have at em."

"Cool. Thanks."

"No problem. I'll call for you when it's time for pie." She winks at him at walks back to towards the kitchen.

Michonne walks into the kitchen to find Rick placing the dishes in the sink.

"You didn't have to do that. You're my guest."

"It's the least I can do. You cooked this fantastic meal and you've been so welcoming to Carl. I haven't seen him smile so much in a long time. I can't be his father and his best friend, so conversations can be a bit awkward sometimes."

"He's a great kid. Smart, funny, kind and those beautiful blue eyes."

Just as Rick turned to look at her, they heard a door slam outside.

"Your neighbors?"

"Yes. They make more noise on the weekends. The parents like to yell and the son likes to slam doors. I'm surprised they're even still on the hinges. I think he drinks too much. I tried to talk to the wife once, but she just ignored me."

"Well, you have my number if things ever get too rowdy, give me a call. What are their names?"

"The Andersons."