Bad Thangs

by AFanWhoFeelsThings

While Rick and Michonne put the pieces back together after the walker herd, they're forced to stand still and admit exactly what they both want: Each other. In as many ways, on as many surfaces, in as many positions as they can get each other. And they'll need each other, like never before. War is coming. Old friends rediscovered. New alliances forged. Richonne romance/smut

4. just go with it

you know our love would be tragic

so you don't pay it, don't pay it no mind

we live with no lies

hey, you're my favorite time of night

so I'mma care for you, you, you

yeah I'mma care for you, you, you, you

cause girl, you're perfect

you're always worth it

and you deserve it

the way you work it

cause girl, you earned it, shit

yeah girl, you earned it

-The Weeknd, "U Earned It"

---

It had been a long, grueling ass day.

Rick felt every hour of it as he turned the corner and trudged down the last block to his house, fighting his fatigue every step of the way. He bypassed Jessie's house without giving it so much as a glance. He was too tired to do that dance with her tonight.

And he was too anxious to get home to Michonne.

Everything Carol and his wise-beyond-his-years son said to him today kept replaying in his mind. There was a lot to figure out. Carol's little atom bomb earlier wouldn't go undealt with. Plus, she was right about running out of time to do what he wanted to do. And there was still Jessie.

But none of that could even come close to how badly Rick needed to see Michonne. Breathe her in...kiss her again...feel her body against his. He was now free to do all of that, where before he never allowed himself to break boundaries. They were friends and partners, and she was his trusted confidant, but he never thought she'd let him be more. Now she was not only allowing it, but she had jump started it. He was going to take full advantage. He couldn't wait to get his hands on her. Get his mouth on her.

He'd been thinking about tasting her again all day. For as long as she would let him. He had plans for her. It kept him walking, kept him awake. It was all he could think about as he dragged his boots along, up the stairs of the front porch and into the house.

He took a moment to close the door behind him loud enough to announce himself. He knew Daryl was off on his run with Aaron and Carol was likely settling into her new place by now. It would just be Michonne and the kids home now, and the thought of finally having the whole place to themselves gave him a feeling of the utmost satisfaction.

He truly felt like he was coming home, to his family, after a long, hard day of work. Only this time, unlike the last few years or so of his marriage to Lori, he had been looking forward to it all day.

He listened to the house as he loosened his gun holsters, depositing them along with his weapons on the table in the foyer. He could hear Judith gurgling from somewhere close, probably in the kitchen, and the sounds of one of Carl's video games wafting down to him from upstairs. Both kids accounted for.

The exhausted former sheriff paused, now listening for any sign of Michonne. He heard her finally, laughing in surprise at Judith. "What are you doing, peanut?" She cooed at his daughter. He adored the nickname. It was the first time he'd heard her say it, but as always, he was instantly impressed with her affection for his children. "What's that in your little mouth, huh?"

Realizing that he was just standing there, smiling like an idiot in the hallway, Rick straightened up and made his way into the kitchen. "You should know better'n to turn your back on her these days..."

His breath stalled in his chest when he saw them. Michonne had picked Judith up from her high chair and was grinning at her, her face absolutely radiant. Jude had her small hands on Michonne's cheeks, smiling down at her. Rick felt like somebody had knocked the wind out of him. His heart swelled and he made up his mind right then and there: He was head over heels in love with this woman. God help him.

They both turned to smile at him, and he grinned right back. "Yeah, don't I know it. She's gettin' to be a wily one."

The bright-eyed baby girl giggled and waved at him. Rick wanted to hold her, but he didn't want this incredibly pleasing visual to end. Michonne tucked Judith against her hip and stood gazing right back at him, her smile making his heart quicken and his jeans feel tight. "Hey," was all he could manage.

"Hey..." Michonne replied, bouncing Judith lightly on her hip, her eyes large and round. He knew he was staring, not attempting to hide the affection and desire all over his face. She looked like she could see every dirty thought roaming through his head, and he let her. She got lost in his eyes for a moment, but then tore her gaze away and brought Judith to him. "Hungry?"

He took Judith gently and kissed the top of her blonde head, nodding. "Yeah."

He couldn't keep the huskiness out of his voice.

He was hungry, alright. For food, and then Michonne. All night.

Michonne could hardly catch her breath. She'd been looking forward to seeing Rick all day, but she kept the desire firmly in the back of her mind as she did her training and helped Maggie around the fences setting up watch posts. She came home, made dinner, fed Carl, Judith and Enid, and kept herself busy moving around the kitchen and the house at large. She straightened up, played with the little rascal, helped Carol pack the last of her things, and straightened up again. By the time she heard him come through the door, she had almost convinced herself that she wasn't waiting up for him, instead choosing to give her attention exclusively to Judith.

But as soon as she saw him standing there, staring at her, his eyes glistening with unabashed affection, she couldn't pretend. He was soiled from working for ten hours straight and getting darker by the day from all the sun he was getting, making the gray hairs peppering his arms and stubble seem almost blond under the kitchen lights. His eyes were pale blue and mesmerizing. Rick leaned against the door with Judith, only periodically taking his gaze off of her to play with his daughter.

Michonne turned away from him to gather her focus again as she set about fixing him a plate with the modest meal she'd cobbled together out of rice, beans and buttered bread from the loaf Carol had made the other day.

Rick watched Michonne, letting Judith occupy herself with trying to unclasp his wristwatch, his eyes travelling from her toned shoulders to her supple ass. She was wearing his favorite outfit of hers: those clingy black running pants, her studded belt, and a loose, white tank top. He could see every curve of her body through her clothes, and he let his eyes drink their fill. Dinner might have to wait. He had a taste for something much sweeter than rice and beans on a slice of stiff bread.

She could feel his eyes on her, but she tried to ignore it as she finished his plate. Naturally, she turned to find him still standing there...still staring. His muscular arms and juicy lips beckoned to her. Damn...was it going to be like this every night now? She hoped so.

Judith was getting impatient fiddling with Rick's watch as he finally sauntered over to the kitchen island where Michonne was setting his plate and a glass of ice water. Rick put his baby girl back into her high chair and stood next to his woman. She thought he was going for the stool at the counter in front of his plate, but instead he reached for her, pulling her into him.

Michonne let herself rest against his long, lean body, inhaling his scent up close, having been missing it all day. He smelled like the sun, and sweat, and wilderness. His chest was sturdy, his embrace possessive. He held her firmly to him with one arm, his hand resting lightly on her ass. He sighed down at her, his face close. She finally looked up from his chest to his eyes. "Hey…" he breathed the same greeting huskily this time, angling for a kiss.

"Hey, Rick." She couldn't hide how glad she was to see him; to have him holding her like it was the most natural and worn-in thing in the world. Like they'd been this way for a lifetime already. He was right. They were still them, but better.

Rick wanted her mouth. Michonne obliged, leaning even closer to him as he kissed her tenderly, slowly. She opened her mouth and tilted her head up further, allowing him to dip his tongue inside. They kissed deeply, rocking back and forth against each other. His grip on her ass tightened as he stroked her neck with his free hand and hungrily sucked on her juicy, plush lips or lapped at her tongue. Over and over again, mimicking the way he soon intended to lap at her sweet, wet-

"Ahem." Carl's shockingly deep voice coughed roughly from the door, and they broke apart to find him and Enid hovering. The girl looked slightly mortified for them, but Carl was just smirking at them; Michonne in particular. She rolled her eyes and attempted to step back, put some distance between her and the boy's father. She was glad for their talk earlier today, but it was too soon not to feel awkward about him catching them fooling around like this.

Rick held her firm, however, not giving her the chance to escape. He adjusted his stance to that of weary nonchalance as he greeted his son and Enid, one arm still encircling Michonne's waist. "And where are you two off to?"

"Hey Mr. Grimes…" Enid offered awkwardly, her eyes darting from his to Michonne's and back to her shoes again.

Rick nodded at the somber teenaged girl. "Enid. You kidnappin' my son again?"

They all chuckled at Rick's terrible joke. He was the king of corny one-liners. Something that Michonne just then realized she adored about him. So many people focused on how volatile and intense he could be, but his family got to see the side of him that was just a corny dad. She also realized that she was part of his family. She relaxed in his embrace, letting some of her embarrassment slip away, touched by the simple certainty of it.

"Was just gonna walk Enid home. Hang out with Glenn a little bit. Haven't really talked to him properly since he got back." Carl said honestly, though Michonne could tell he wanted to say something else. The look in his eyes said 'and I don't wanna be within a ten mile radius of you two for at least a couple hours…'

It made her embarrassed all over again, at the same time as it filled her to the brim with anticipation. She and Rick would be alone in the house except for Judith, who was fed and ready for bedtime. And the way Rick had kissed her just now, she knew she was in for something special.

"Alright. Don't stay all night, though."

"You sure?" Carl let slip, one of his eyebrows disappearing under the brim of his hat.

"I know how you are when you get goin' Carl." Rick fixed his boy with a look, ignoring his suggestive comment. "Glenn's been workin' all day just like the rest of us. He needs his sleep, too and I'm sure he wants to spend time with Maggie. Don't stay all night."

"Yes sir." Carl nodded, his sarcastic grin sobering as he assessed and accepted his father's rule. "Later, Michonne," he nodded at Michonne and gestured for Enid to follow him out. Enid waved goodnight and they both disappeared. A few seconds later, Rick and Michonne heard the door.

They were pretty much alone now.

Michonne, attempting to at least pretend she still cared about serving him dinner, turned and nudged Rick's shoulder to get him to loosen his hold on her waist. "You ready to eat?"

Rick grinned wolfishly, still not letting her go. He leaned into her neck and sucked at her skin. "Yeah…" he uttered roughly, kissing a steamy trail from there to her earlobe. "Get upstairs and take off your pants."

She gasped, feeling him straining through his jeans, hot and hard against her thigh. He kissed her neck still more, his breath and stubble making her skin tingle. "You're crazy!" she giggled.

"Baby, you have no idea…" That did it. His deep, raspy, southern drawl got her every damn time. Her clit throbbed, sending a wave of desire pulsing through her body. He slapped her ass and she grinned girlishly, allowing him his brutish little display of dominance this time. He finally released her and she stepped back slowly, staring him down as she backed up to the door. Rick's dick jumped and his tongue slid across his bottom lip with barely-contained excitement, watching her.

Finally, after making him wait for her, she turned and headed upstairs to do as he asked.

"Okay, Jude. Bedtime, baby girl." Rick gave his full attention to his daughter for the five or six minutes it took to bed her and set up the monitor. He made sure her night light was on and draped her favorite 'blanket' (one of Carl's old shirts) over her squirming little body. Then he kissed her goodnight and tiptoed out of her room, closing the door behind him.

He stood in the hallway between Judith's room and Michonne's, trying to calm himself before he walked in. He wanted to devour her, but if he went in too quickly he would wind up rushing things. He didn't want to rush. He wanted to take his time tonight. The only thing all that fucking they did last night caused was a much greater desire in Rick to explore every inch of her glorious pussy with his tongue.

Slowly...reverently. He wasn't satisfied by a long shot.

Swallowing down his titanic lust, Rick walked across the hall and knocked on her door.

"Come in, silly," she said from inside the room, her smooth voice muffled but still powerfully sexy.

He went inside without hesitation, and she was standing by the side of the bed, her little black panties peeking out at him from the hem of her tank top. She had removed her bra as well, and her springy nipples were poking at the soft fabric, calling to his mouth.

She wasn't going to think he was so silly when he was through with her.

"Stand against the wall." He found himself saying, feeling almost hypnotised by the sight of her silky dark brown thighs and the perfectly v-shaped dip of her pussy lips through her panties. She was wet..he could see it even in the dim lamp light. So wet her precum was starting to coat her inner thighs. He was going to enjoy this immensely. So would she, he determined to himself as she hesitantly obeyed him, backing up to press herself against the wall between the nightstand and the window. She was so goddamned beautiful. Her locs were falling over her eyes again. He decided he liked it when they did that the most. He wanted them all over her face tonight, forgotten about as she moaned with pleasure.

Rick was on the point of stalking toward her, the hunger in his eyes rendering her weak with lust...when the doorbell rang.

They both turned their heads to listen, completely caught off guard (and not happy about it). It sounded again, a soft, echoing chime that utterly broke his momentum.

His dick was straining against the constrictive fabric of his jeans and his mouth was watering with the phantom taste of Michonne, but the goddamned doorbell kept ringing. Whoever it was knew they were home and they were not going to just go away. He couldn't think of who it could be-his mind was too foggy with pent up lust and he was too annoyed to run through a list of potential candidates.

Michonne sighed and made to reach for her pants, but he turned back to her sharply. "No, you stay put. I'll go." He adjusted his belt to give his aching cock some breathing room and wiped his mouth, his expression hard with determination. Michonne didn't argue with him. He was sexy as hell when he was horny and unable to act on it. She felt like she was being tortured with anticipation, but maybe he was feeling it just a little bit more. "I'll make it quick."

She believed him as she watched him saunter from the room, calling back gruffly: "Don't move, Michonne."

She heard him jog down the stairs with heavy footsteps. Yeah. He was going to get rid of whoever it was pretty fast, even if he had to be rude, and then he was going to come stalking back upstairs to fuck the shit out of her. She had a hunch he would be that much more turned on if he found her exactly where he'd left her. That much more determined to reward her for it.

Michonne's pussy dripped and ached just thinking about it. She didn't move from the wall. She fought against touching herself, wanting to preserve herself for Rick. She would be hard pressed not to cum as soon as he got going, but she also knew she would do it more than once, if the smouldering look in his eyes and the dominance in his voice delivered on their promise.

---

Earlier that morning...

"Beets? Seriously?" Maggie made a perplexed face.

"Yeah, it makes 'em sweet. I just wanted to do...something...nice..." Carol suddenly paused in the middle of recounting her new recipe idea for cookies to squint suspiciously at Michonne. She gestured toward their silent friend with her chin.

Maggie turned to look at the woman in question.

Michonne had lapsed into thought, basically ignoring them both for the last few minutes as they sat enjoying the sunshine on the porch, pretending to be watching Judith play with her cups.

She was really thinking about Rick. About his strong, yet elegant hands, gripping and tugging on her naked flesh. His thick, warm lips kissing and sucking on her everywhere. His gruff voice, issuing low commands. The way he took exactly what he wanted, while at the same time giving her exactly what she was aching for. She always respected him for respecting her. Because she knew she had earned his respect, and in turn, he listened to her, considered her wishes, and made her feel like he trusted her more than anybody. But in bed...Rick was a beast. He was so intense. His scent, his hair, his lips; his strength; the heat of his skin; he was all over her at once, and the memory was hard to shake off.

It was enough to get her squirming as she sat in the uncomfortable wooden porch chair, gazing unseeingly at the baby girl clumsily stacking her red plastic cups on top of her blanket.

Carol could see it all over Michonne's pretty face. Her eyes were narrowed to a far off place, and she had a small, but definitely discernible smirk playing at her lips. Maggie, after a moment of realization, saw it too. She turned back to Carol with a sardonic grin. Michonne wasn't even pretending to pay attention.

Carol got an idea. Time to change the subject.

"So-Michonne says Rick's gonna go after the Wolves." She spoke up a little louder than before, and wasn't surprised when Michonne snapped to, her cool gaze sharpening as she zeroed in on Carol's icy blues.

Maggie's jaw dropped, caught off guard, but Michonne and Carol only stared at each other.

"When did he decide that?" Maggie demanded coolly, frowning. Her accent dragged her words out somewhat, long enough for Michonne to decide to just tell the truth. She was annoyed with Carol for bringing it up without discussing it with her, but then it was going to come out anyway.

She had wanted it to be with everyone, and Rick telling it in his own words. But Carol seemed hell bent on at least strategizing a response to whatever he had in mind, despite what Michonne had to say about it. Okay. She could play this game. With them. Not Rick. She was going to tell him the truth as soon as she saw him. She had been explicit with Carol about that. The enigmatic woman would just have to get over it and face the music. Fair was fair.

Carol shrugged and gestured to Michonne. Michonne sighed and looked over at Maggie. "He only told me last night," her eyes flickered toward Carol sharply, but landed back on her other friend's concerned face. "But I think he's been thinking about it for weeks. He's just been biding his time, working on securing this place, maybe working out a plan." She felt a little embarrassed but pushed on, shrugging as if it didn't matter. "We didn't exactly get a chance to talk it through..."

"But he can't wait too much longer," Carol ignored the reference to their all-nighter, shaking her head, turning this into a real conversation now. "You know they could come back any time."

"What is he supposed to do, leave us defenseless?"

"I'm not saying that." Carol relented, leaving Maggie to watch them argue in studied silence. She raised her pale blue eyes to meet Michonne's, her expression serious."But you know Rick, Michonne."

Michonne sat up straight in her uncomfortable chair, crossing her arms. "Yeah." She prompted in a low, cool voice, barely audible over Judith's gurgling.

"Are you gonna be able to see him clearly? When he's out there, can you pull him back? Or...can you handle what he could become?"

Michonne's eyes darted from Carol's to Judith and back to Maggie. Her young friend's expression was pinched, but it was clear she agreed with Carol. Michonne was indignant at Carol's audacity, but she had to admit, the question was legit. Not that they were in any way right, but still...they all knew Rick. He would do anything to protect his own. Anything. And he didn't take chances anymore. In fact, if it hadn't been for Michonne, they may not have made it to Alexandria. Rick might have flinched in the face of uncertainty, and taken his vengeance for what seemed like a hundred other destroyed hopes out on Aaron. They all saw how unhinged he'd been when they first got here, and again, Michonne had made an objective decision that gave them all another chance at life. Or at least, it seemed objective to them. Essentially, they were asking her if she could still be that 'objective' now that she and Rick had taken their relationship...further.

"I'm still strugglin' with it." Maggie admitted quietly, gazing at Michonne earnestly. "That thought. 'If it came down to it...could I sacrifice Glenn for the greater good of what we have here?'"

"We're trying to build something, all of us." Carol added, as if she didn't already know that. As if she wasn't already fighting for that. "With more people coming in, Rick's gonna feel more pressure to protect us. We saw what that pressure did back at the prison..."

There. The bomb had been dropped.

There was thick silence (except for Jude's soft, oblivious noises), on the porch.

Michonne closed her eyes and rubbed her temples. She had expected things like this to crop up, but she honestly hadn't expected it so soon. They'd only fucked last night. Carol and Maggie were acting like he had proposed to her. Ignoring the flutter in her chest at that thought, the dark-skinned survivor opened her eyes again and looked both her friends squarely in their faces. They were acting like Rick was about to fly off the deep end any moment. Maybe they had a right to be concerned, but that shit was very unfair.

"Rick is nothing like the Governor, or those assholes at Terminus, or the Wolves."

"It's only a matter of decisions." Carol whispered, looking haunted. "To protect the people you love...you gotta make decisions."

Michonne felt genuine empathy for her, but she was wrong. "We're still us. All of us." She reassured them. "And we are going to keep this place safe. Rick will tell us his plan when he's ready. And we'll all figure it out, together. That's how we avoid what happened back at the prison."

Maggie nodded, reaching over to take Michonne's hand. "I know."

Michonne was grateful that Maggie's tone suggested they would end the conversation there. For now.

---

Inside the house, standing in the foyer, Carl and Enid were eavesdropping.

Carl stood with his head down, his crystal blue gaze fixed on his shoes, the wide, worn out brim of his hat tipped low over his eyes. His dark brown hair hung in his face, and his jaw was set into a thoughtful frown. Enid stood very close to him, one hand folded up in his and the other resting on his arm. She wanted to rest her chin up against his shoulder, lean on him some more, but she knew he was focused on the conversation out there so she tried to pay attention in case he wanted to talk about it later.

He liked to talk about stuff. Enid did more talking with Carl than with anybody, ever. They had just spent all night talking. About everything. Their pasts before the turn. Ron. His mother Lori. The Governor. Her time out in the open alone. Her parents. He just had this ability to pull it out of her; bring her closer to the edge of who she used to be than she'd been in a long time.

He was an intense, serious kid. But he wasn't sad, like Ron. He was strong. Like his dad. She used to hate it, but now she realized that was because she secretly looked up to him. She wanted to be like him. And she wanted him to be the one to show her how. Carl had this strange ability to make her feel safe, but capable. Make her feel like she wasn't crazy, just lost. Like maybe she could be found. Be herself again.

She realized she had gone off thinking about him and missed the end of the conversation. Carl straightened up and sighed hard, turning to face her. Whenever he gazed at her with that serious look on his face, his gorgeous eyes sliding up to hers from underneath all that dark, wavy hair, Enid felt herself falling for him all over again. It was definitely something to get used to. She was used to being on her own, fending for herself, being sad, and isolated, and willing to do anything to just survive somehow. She didn't trust people easily. But Carl wiped all that out with a single look. He was the only one who could do that. She shifted on her feet under his gaze, squeezing his hand.

"What?" she asked quietly, returning his thoughtful frown.

He looked pensive. Worried. She thought maybe it had to do with what Carol and Maggie were saying about his dad. She didn't want to tell him, but she kind of agreed with them. Rick was a scary man.

But Carl surprised her. "I hate the way they're grilling Michonne," he uttered, his voice its deepest since she'd met him. "She isn't like Carol, she doesn't scheme. She's honest. She wouldn't spy on my dad."

Carl was really annoyed with them. Enid thought that was interesting. He loved Maggie. So did Enid. She was a sweet lady, and she always acted like a big sister to both of them. Him being this annoyed with her and Carol over a few questions felt out of place. But then, he was also super protective of Michonne. Enid knew Michonne meant a lot to Carl. He always talked about her with the utmost respect, thoughtfulness, and impressive depth.

The look on his face drew her closer to him. She let go of his hand to reach up and move a lock of his hair out of the way. He closed his eyes when she touched him, and she smiled to herself, feeling warmth in her heart for how sweet he was. She leaned her front against his, and delighted in feeling his lean, yet strong arms encircle her waist and squeeze gently. She rested her hand on his warm cheek and whispered to him:

"She can take care of herself. You're right, she's honest." He nodded, his eyes still closed, listening to her soft voice. "Stop worrying so much, emo."

Carl snorted and smiled, opening his eyes. "Me? Emo? Look who's talkin', Wednesday Addams."

She rolled her eyes at him, not at all upset at the comparison. "Wednesday is goth, not emo. Dumbass."

He suddenly leaned in and kissed her, wiping her superior grin from her lips. She sighed against his mouth, kissing him back immediately, her hands in his hair and around his neck. He pressed her into him closer and she felt her heart beating faster and faster as she lost herself in the feel of his soft, warm lips pulling on hers like magnets. Then he slowly stopped, leaving her leaning in for more but only finding when she opened her eyes that he was smirking at her. Asshole.

"Now who were you callin' a dumbass?"

She shook her head and glared at him, but inside she was melting. "I hate you."

"Uh huh…" he was still gloating. Of course she found it charming as fuck and she hated him for that too.

Suddenly his smile disappeared and he straightened up, turning his head to hear what they were saying. Enid listened, too. They were talking about Carl. And her.

"We'd better get out there and break that up," he muttered, annoyed again.

Enid stole another kiss on his cheek as he straightened his hat and reached for the doorknob.

His cheeks got red but he didn't say anything, instead he grabbed her hand to lead her outside. As they went, she couldn't help wondering if she was his girlfriend, now. She found herself hoping so.

---

On the porch, Maggie had told Michonne about Carl and Enid spending all night talking in her room. "They're teenagers, you know?" Maggie shrugged.

Michonne sighed. "Yeah. I guess. I don't think Rick has even thought about how fast Carl's growing up…"

"Carl's just like Rick. He helps people." Carol offered, her expression obscured by the cup of coffee she was sipping. "He saves people. That girl needs saving. If sappy, teenage love will do it...so be it."

"Glenn saves people, too." Maggie offered in her unmistakably soft, smoky southern accent. She gazed at Judith, who was now gumming one of her cups, gurgling with amusement. "He saved me. Gave me somebody to love. Somebody who loves me. Somebody for us to love together. Hope for this terrible world." She looked down at her own stomach. She wasn't showing just yet, but she would be soon. She smiled softly, hopefully, before returning her attention to her friends. "That's why I fell in love with 'im. That's why Enid is so taken with Carl. He is still young, but I think he's on to somethin'."

Both Carol and Michonne softened at her words, and they looked on at the new mother feeling their own separate memories, but shared heartache. Heartache they'd never even mentioned to each other.

As if conjured by the utterance of his name, Carl appeared, holding hands with Enid.

Michonne was still reeling over Carol's declaration that the two of them were in love, and the sight of them in such intimate proximity didn't help. She had sort of noticed that they spent a lot of time together, but she thought they were just friends. She hadn't let it even enter her mind that Carl, a growing young man, was actually pursuing her. The Grimes boys were full of surprises in the romance department these days.

The fifteen-year-old's bright blue eyes immediately latched onto Michonne's. His expression, eye contact, and firm grasp on Enid's hand told her all she needed to know about his intentions. She wouldn't judge him. He was a good kid, and Enid seemed like a sweet, though troubled girl.

"Hey Michonne," Carl greeted her. She could still not get over how deep his voice had gotten, almost overnight it seemed. And frankly, he looked like more of a young man than ever. He'd lost most of his baby fat, and he was much taller now. There had always been something in Carl's eyes; some kind of maturity and stillness that she'd never seen in any kids his age that she'd met before him. And now-call it genetics or chalk it up to all that he'd been through-that maturity and stillness was as thick as fire smoke and hard as stone behind those ancient blue eyes of his. Carol was right. He was just like his father. And maybe like his mother, too. That part of it would probably always remain a bit of a mystery to Michonne.

"Hey, kid," she replied, offering him a soft, unbothered smile. Then she deliberately turned to look at Enid directly for the first time since they met. She was a pretty girl. They made a nice young couple. "Morning, Enid."

Enid blinked, as if surprised to be greeted directly, and smiled uncertainly. "Morning, Michonne. Hey, Maggie. Miss Carol."

Carol rolled her eyes as Carl let go of Enid's hand to stoop towards Judith. "Enough with the 'Miss Carol' stuff, will ya? It's just Carol. I'm not that old."

Enid thought sarcastically 'you should probably dye all that gray out of your hair, then…' but outwardly she only nodded contritely. "Shit. I forgot. Sorry. Morning, Carol."

Carol gave her a steely smile. "That's better." She sipped her coffee.

"Hey, Little Ass Kicker…" Carl picked Judith up and bounced her a little, causing her to giggle and wave her little arms at him. He grinned and kissed her on the cheek, blowing a raspberry that sent her into a slobbery giggle fit. He blew a few more as she held onto his face with delight, before letting her go and wiping her cheek with the arm of his shirt.

All the women on the porch looked on fondly. He was good with his baby sister. Michonne found herself wondering if he would be that attentive and loving to her precious little Andre.

But she banished the thought, not wishing to unfairly project her own longing and pain onto her buddy. Judith was Carl's little sister, and she loved them both like they were her own. She was content with that. She had to be. They couldn't afford to have everyone in Alexandria get knocked up at once…

Michonne blinked, shocked at the direction her thoughts had veered off to. Why was she thinking of getting pregnant? Of wanting to be pregnant?

She was officially done with the girl talk.

She stood up and stretched, placing her empty coffee cup on the table between her and Maggie's chairs. "Gotta dash. Gonna be late for my own training session."

"I'll walk you," Carl offered. "Wanted to see if my dad needed any help today."

She suspected that he knew he was in for the third degree about Enid and wanted to get it over with. She didn't know he was actually thinking he wanted to grill her about his dad, and what had happened between them to cause Carol and Maggie to talk to her that way. It hadn't escaped his notice that they'd disappeared together last night, and had pretty much been attached at the hip afterward.

He'd half expected them to show up to the house together this morning.

Michonne nodded, smiling at him and then Judith, closing the small distance between them on the porch to kiss the top of the baby's blonde head. She stepped back and acknowledged the teenage girl hovering close to them again. "I wanna see you at training one of these days, Enid."

Enid bounced on her toes, her dark green eyes sliding towards Carl. "Well, Carl offered to train me himself…"

Carl smiled to himself, his eyes hidden behind his hair, but after a moment he nodded. "Yeah. Guns and self-defense stuff. Nothin' crazy."

"Sure, as long as your dad says it's okay." Michonne conceded, not missing the knowing looks Maggie and Carol were shooting at her.

They said their 'see you later's, Carl kissed Judith too and handed her to Maggie. Then, to Michonne's surprise, he turned and kissed Enid on the cheek, then the lips. The girl's face flushed a deep, creamy rose tint and she avoided everyone's looks as a smile forced its way to the corners of her mouth. "Come over later, 'kay?"

"Okay...sure." She nodded, still looking at her threadbare Chuck Taylors shyly. Michonne wanted to throw up, they were so sweet with each other. But she had to admit, she was impressed with how Carl wasn't afraid or ashamed to let them all know that this was happening, whether they liked it or not. And seeing Enid's reaction further let Michonne know that she was just as smitten as Carol had hypothesized. Maybe Maggie was right-the boy was on to something.

Carl and Michonne walked down the front steps of the porch side-by-side, squinting against the morning sun.

They went on walking in silence for a while, rounding the bend in the road that would lead them toward the infirmary, and the gates beyond that. Michonne glanced over at his stoic figure. His face was partially hidden under his ubiquitous, wide-brimmed sheriff's hat and all that hair. "So you wanna tell me about you and Enid?" she asked softly, still watching him.

He walked with his head down, his hands stuffed into his pockets, his gun holster slung low across his slim waist, his bowie knife strapped to his thigh. He was indeed a young man, wise beyond his years, and she loved him. She would make this as quick and painless as possible. She just wanted to prepare him for his dad, because she knew that conversation was coming.

"Well…" he answered thoughtfully, then hit her with a shocker: "You wanna tell me about you and my dad?"

Michonne had to slow down and stop walking. They stood in the middle of the street, the sounds of the wind and neighborhood activity surrounding them as the warming sun glared down on them through the trees. Carl stopped a few paces ahead, turning to face her.

He was smirking, knowing he had her at a disadvantage. He was perfectly fine confiding in her about Enid. He had intended to, anyway. But he also wanted to know about her relationship with his father, because if it was like he hoped, he was going to tell her plain and simple that she should go for it. With all her heart. He had wanted this for his dad for a long time, maybe since that day she'd gone into that bar to retrieve the only picture that remained of his mother. Since that day, Carl had grown to feel like he could tell Michonne anything; he worried about her, and he cared for her. She was so good with Judith, and he was the only person she'd told about Andre. Keeping that secret close to him made him feel like he was connected to Michonne in a way that no one else was. He wanted that for his dad. They both deserved it.

He wanted to be a family. And he wanted Michonne to know that. So he would confide in her about Enid, because as far as he was concerned, she was as close to a mother as he'd ever get to have.

"Me and your dad." She repeated quietly, frowning at him. She had been hoping to avoid confronting this so quickly, but she should have known, given how smart and observant this kid was. He nodded, still smirking at her, the little punk. Michonne fought off a grin, crossing her arms and lifting her chin at him. "What do you know about it?"

Carl sighed and shifted on his feet. So she was gonna make him talk first. Fine. "I know my dad's been looking at you differently." He scoffed, looking off at the trees. "Well, he's always stared at you. He just does it a lot more lately." He turned back to look her in the eyes. "I know that you mean a lot to him. And I know what he means to you." He swallowed at his own boldness, telling her about her feelings, but she didn't interrupt him. She stared at him, speechless, awed by how mature he was. "I know last night you two seemed pretty cozy. So…" he tilted his head from side to side, smiling now. "I put two and two together and figured you'd finally realized that you love each other."

The boy shrugged, not saying anything further.

Michonne took a minute to recover from his very frank, very astute observation. At least he was accurate where she was concerned. She did love him. But she couldn't really say if Rick felt the same way she felt about him. They hadn't even had time to sleep properly, let alone broach the subject of feelings. All they'd done was fuck all night, and though it had been absolutely mind blowing (perhaps the best and most intense sex she'd ever had), it didn't mean that they were ready to declare it mutual love.

She wasn't about to get into all of that with Rick's fifteen-year-old son, though. "We...came to a realization, yeah." She hedged.

"So you're together, now?" Carl asked, raising his eyebrows hopefully.

Michonne didn't know how to answer, so she just gave as truthful an answer as she could. "We're figuring it out."

Carl was quiet for a few seconds, mulling her answer. She was hesitating; she seemed too cautious. He didn't know what could be making her hold back, except for maybe one thing. Carl sometimes overheard his dad talking to his uncle Shane about his mom, back before everything died. His dad wasn't the kind of guy to be open about his feelings. He preferred action. Carl knew his dad always felt like he could never seem to satisfy his mom. He'd not only overheard his dad saying it, he had felt it, being around them near the end, listening to their most heated arguments. And one of the reasons was because he didn't talk. Carl grew to understand that about his father...his mom never did.

Carl didn't want Michonne to make the same mistake about his dad's feelings for her. He knew his dad. He had seen Rick drawing Michonne closer and closer to him over the months. He and Judith had been drawing her closer, too. He was absolutely sure that this was the right thing for them all.

"You should tell him." He said fiercely, his eyes narrowed with determination.

Michonne gaped at him. "Tell him what?"

"How you feel about him, Michonne. He won't say it first, he isn't good with that kinda stuff. But you should." She was still glaring at him in denial, and he rolled his eyes at her. "Come on, we're best friends. I may be just a kid, but I can tell what it means when a person looks at someone the way you look at my dad."

"Well aren't you observant," Michonne joked, knowing she was caught. She couldn't believe the kid's nerve. Michonne sighed, coming to stand closer to him. She reached out and touched his shoulder, leveling with him. "I just don't want you to think that I'm trying to...replace your mom, or gain something here." Michonne shrugged, feeling completely exposed, and truthfully a little nervous about the opinion of a teenager. But Carl's opinion did matter to her. A whole lot. "I'm just going with the flow."

"But you love him," Carl insisted in a low, steady voice, his eyes angling up to hers, glinting in the sunlight. "Right?"

Michonne wouldn't lie to him. She nodded slowly, letting him see the truth in her eyes. "I do. And I love you and Jude, you gotta know that. Me and your dad will both put your needs before our own. That's just the way it is."

"I love you too, Michonne." Carl said, squinting at her earnestly. The certainty in his eyes took her breath away. She'd always worried that she was overstepping with him, wanting to be his friend but also not being able to help her protectiveness and concern for his wellbeing. To hear him confirm that he cared for her the same way filled her with relief. "Just promise me you'll think about telling my dad."

He reached up and hugged her, and she returned his embrace.

"I'll put in a good word for ya," he joked, releasing her. She laughed and rolled her eyes. "But I have a feeling I won't have to say too much. He's crazy about you, you know that, right?"

Michonne felt her cheeks and temples flush, finding herself hoping very much that the boy was right. She was crazy about Rick Grimes, and his kids. Hearing one of them confirm that he could possibly feel even a fraction of the same way made her heart swell. She flicked his hat with her fingers, causing him to grin and clamp down on it with one hand.

"I'll make you a deal," she offered, starting up her steady stroll towards the infirmary. "You talk to your dad about Enid, and I'll be honest with him about...how I feel. What do you say, kid?"

Carl considered her, and figured he didn't really have anything to lose. He was gonna have to talk to his dad about his feelings for Enid sooner or later, and sooner was definitely better. He already knew he wasn't gonna back down, despite how protective he his dad could be. He decided he was going to use the opportunity just like he had with Michonne just now; tell his dad to stop beating around the bush and officially offer Michonne her place in the family. She belonged there, they all knew it. It was time to make it official. He was excited to have a complete family again, hopefully for the rest of his life.

Judith would grow up with a mother, and his dad would be happy again. And for his part, the prospect of having his best friend be his parent was starting to grow on Carl. Michonne was so easy to talk to, she would be there for him in ways that maybe Lori couldn't. He loved his mother, he missed her terribly, but Michonne made all that feel a hundred times better than it used to.

"Okay. Sure." He reached out his hand and they shook on it. Then he paused, as the infirmary came into sight, a block or so down the road. "But...can I talk to you about something first?"

Michonne slowed down but kept walking this time, peering over at him curiously. "Of course."

Carl sighed, taking his hat off momentarily to rake his fingers through his thick hair. It was gonna be a warm day. He was already starting to sweat. It didn't help that he was probably gonna get wrangled into helping out with his dad today, wearing the same clothes that he'd been wearing last night, minus the tie. He stopped stalling, turning to glance at Michonne's expectant and unwavering gaze as they walked slowly down the hill in the middle of the street.

"I love Enid," he said quietly, staring straight ahead, now. But his expression was steely, serious. "I want to protect her, and I want to try to make her happy. But I don't want anybody belittling that." He frowned, shaking himself out of his passionate thoughts, glancing over at her again to see what she was thinking. "Does that make sense?"

"Yeah it does." Michonne said. "I feel the same way about your dad."

"You don't think we're too young?" He was staring at her, now, waiting for her answer as they walked. Her opinion mattered to him, too, she realized. "That's what everyone's gonna say. My dad included."

"I think this is a different time, a different life. I think...you've earned this." She held his gaze, wanting him to know she meant it. "You are very young, Carl, but you're also one of the most mature and responsible kids I've ever known. Your dad will see that, too." She smiled and gave him a light punch on the arm. "And who cares what everyone else thinks?"

Carl's lopsided grin returned, and he nodded in agreement. "Damn right," he declared.

"Speaking of being responsible, though…" Michonne sighed as they made it to within a few paces of the infirmary, which was also Denise and Tara's home. Carl squinted over at her inquisitively. "I'll make you another deal."

"What?" He didn't know if he would like where she was going with this.

"Protection. If you're serious about Enid, then you'll protect her and yourself both from something happening that you know you're not ready for. Got it?"

Carl's eyes widened, but then he thought about it, and had to begrudgingly admit that she was right. He was pretty sure that he was in love, but he was damned sure he wasn't ready to get anybody pregnant. Judith was enough. He nodded, his cheeks red with embarrassment. "I got it. Let's stop talking about it, now."

They walked into the infirmary, which Denise kept blessedly cool, to find her sitting cross-legged on the kitchen counter, pouring over a giant medical book.

She jumped a little, startled when Carl cleared his throat, but gave them both a cheerful smile. "Hey, guys. What's up? Everything okay with Judith?"

She hopped down from the counter surprisingly gracefully and showed them what she was reading. It was a pediatric medical encyclopedia.

"I'm boning up on babies today," she adjusted her glasses, looking pleased with herself. "So I'm good, you know, if something's wrong. Just in case. Is something wrong?"

"Judith is fine…" Carl muttered, staring at her blankly.

"Uh, we actually came here to ask if you had...protection." Michonne said in a rush, so low Denise had to lean forward to catch her words. The young doctor frowned with confusion. "Sexual protection." Michonne clarified, mortified.

Carl snickered in the back of his throat, causing Michonne to punch him on the arm.

Denise looked from one to the other with red cheeks for a moment, but then nodded and closed her book. "Oh. Okay. Uh-yeah, I think I do, as a matter of fact. Heath brought a few boxes in a couple weeks back, k-kinda out of the blue. I mean I didn't think t-to ask, though I should have, but then I don't really get...at least I didn't, before, but then I met Tara, and..." she gushed, her cheeks still burning as she finally stopped herself and adjusted her glasses again. "Um, so who are they for...?"

Michonne smirked at Carl. Carl turned beet red. Denise waved to indicate that he didn't have to confirm it verbally. "Got it. I'll just...be right back."

Before she could leave the room, Michonne's voice stopped her. "For me, too."

Denise paused, but didn't look back as she left to fetch the stuff.

The two friends and family members looked at everything around them except each other while Denise was gone. Michonne breathed a silent sigh of relief when the doc came back, breaking the spell of awkwardness, carrying a stack of condoms in one hand and a stack of birth control pills in the other. "Okay, Trojans for the kid, and pills for his mom." She said, smiling. "That should last you about six months," she added, referring to the pills. "Let me know when you're getting low, though, they're the only ones we have."

Michonned looked up at her sharply, but Carl just took the condoms. "Thanks…" he muttered.

"No problem. Your mom's smart, setting an example and everything. My mom didn't really get to do the same for me…" she laughed, pointing to herself and mouthing 'lesbian', giving a little snort.

Carl chuckled, but Michonne was still stuck on hearing Denise refer to her as Carl's mom twice. She knew it was probably just because the girl had little backstory on her and the Grimes', and she was making a simple enough assumption.

Carl turned to look at Michonne knowingly, a warm smile gracing his young face. "Yeah, Michonne's a good mom. We're lucky she found us."

Michonne's eyes traveled to his, and she could see that he meant it. She took the pills from Denise and raised them in salute, turning to leave before things got any more awkward and semi-emotional. Carl followed her out, stuffing his hoard in his pockets.

They came to the point where the road divided. She would head left to the fields out by the church to begin training the weakest residents in hand-to-hand combat. Carl would head right, down towards the gates, to find his dad and get to work on the last of the reinforcements they'd been adding around the walls.

"Hey, Michonne?" She stuffed her pills into her small leather satchel, finally meeting his gaze again. "I don't think you're trying to replace my mom. But...you are sort of like a mom, to me and Judith, I mean. So I don't mind if people call you that. Okay?"

"Even though I'm a nag?" She joked, but she was secretly quite touched.

"Especially when you're being a pain in the ass, yeah."

Michonne snatched his hat off his head and gave him a knuckle sandwich, fighting easily against his half-hearted squirming. He managed to pry himself from her grip around his neck with her arm, grabbing for his hat again. She gave it up, smiling happily, and watched as he put it back on, smoothing his hair down again. They parted ways.

---

Rick dove gracelessly behind the truck, plugging his fingers in his ears, shaking his sweat-soaked curls out of his eyes.

"Okay, Heath, BLOW IT!" He yelled, crouching low and bracing himself for the noise and danger as Heath shot the rocket launcher at the ditch across the road. The explosion shook the truck but didn't blow it over. Fire licked at Rick's boots and the truck's tires, but was sucked away again in the air vacuum that followed the explosion. Trees cracked and fell over slowly, earth caved in underneath the ditch, and a hailstorm of dirt rained down on them before all went deadly quiet again.

Rick coughed and shook the dirt out of his hair, standing up slowly as the chaos settled. He peered over the hood of the truck to see that it had worked. There was a hole in the ground, surrounded by buckled or completely fallen trees. This was their last sniper ditch, and he was glad he wouldn't have to use any more ammo to get the job done. He whistled, signaling that it was okay for everyone to get out from under cover. They quickly took down a handful of lingering walkers that had wandered over because of the noise.

As Rick was pulling his knife from the skull of one grizzly-looking piece of shit missing half his face, he noticed his boy making his way steadily towards them, that hat and that slim figure unmistakable against the glare of the sun. Good. He wouldn't have to send for him, then. He'd been afraid his son might waste the day away with that girl Enid again.

Heath, Glenn and Tobin went to work clearing up the debris so they could reinforce the hole and cover it like they'd done all the others. Carl was carrying bottles of water he'd gotten from up by the gates.

Rick wiped his knife on his jeans and holstered it, taking a bottle gratefully as Carl finally reached the truck. "Thanks, son."

Carl nodded and tossed three more to the men in the ditch.

Rick took a few long swigs of water before capping the bottle and gesturing to the hole they'd made. He wanted to get Carl working before he had a chance to make an excuse and escape. "You can help line up the ditch, then we'll use those trees to make more walker traps down the road a piece."

Carl simply nodded, rolling up his sleeves. Rick shared his water with his son, and together they got down into the dirt to help clear away the tree lumber.

They worked for three or four hours straight, making the area look normal again, reinforcing and then sealing off the sniper ditch with a hidden latch door covered in grass, tree branches, and earth. Once done, all five men worked together loading lumber into the truck, driving it down closer to the gates. They carved big branches into spikes, drilling them into the trunks, setting the whole thing up to catch stray walkers. Heath and Glenn drove some cars they'd found down toward the traps to park them along the road. Some of them were hollowed out to serve as cover for gunmen, some filled with gas in case a quick getaway needed to be made.

Carl did the honors testing the lineup of the last three sniper ditches on either side of the road. He did target practice from inside the hot, square holes lined with stone from the rock quarry. They were deep enough to hide you if you crouched, and covered in a way that you'd still be hidden in the earth if you needed to stand up and aim for a clean shot.

By the time they took a break for lunch, both father and son were sweating and red-faced under the increasingly intense afternoon heat.

"Feels like Georgia…" Carl muttered, squinting up at the sun before opening up the modest lunch one of the Alexandrians had prepared for the people on the wall crew.

"Yeah." Rick agreed. He took a bite of the homemade boysenberry and acorn butter sandwich, chewing it with difficulty. "It's beautiful, though."

They ate on in silence for a little while, leaning against the hood of the red Ford Bronco Glenn had taken to driving around more often than any other cars.

"I'm glad you came by this mornin'," the eldest Grimes said, folding up his gummy sandwich and stuffing it back into the wax paper it had been wrapped in. He took a swig of water before continuing: "Thought maybe you'd rather be hangin' around somewhere with Enid."

The pointed look in his father's eyes was not lost on Carl. He smiled softly, still trying to work with his sandwich. He chewed thoughtfully, then offered: "I like spending time with Enid, Dad."

"I know you do, son," Rick conceded, nodding, but didn't look as though he was satisfied with that answer. "I couldn't help but notice. You two've been inseparable for a couple of weeks, now. Was wonderin' when I'd get you back, that's all."

"It hasn't taken my attention away from Judith, or from helping you keep this place, safe." Carl declared, staring right back at his father defiantly. He sighed, realizing something. "Actually...it's made me feel like I have more to lose."

Rick scoffed, amazed by the things rattling around in his young teenager's head. "What?"

"It's no different than how you feel about Michonne."

There was heavy silence as Rick shifted on his feet, looking down at the gravel under his boots. He hadn't expected Carl to say that. To know that. Or to compare that to his crush on a troubled girl. "What's Michonne got to do with it…?" he hedged, turning back to look his boy in the eyes again.

Carl faltered, but continued cautiously: "I just think...if we're gonna talk about one thing...we should go ahead and talk about the other."

"What's 'the other' thing, Carl?" Rick knew he would regret asking, but found the words escaping him anyway.

"I'm not stupid, you know." Carl said, shrugging. "You like spending time with Michonne. A lot."

The forty-two-year-old man laughed and rubbed at his stubble, looking around to make sure they weren't being overheard. "You noticed that, huh?"

"Everyone noticed that. Just like everyone noticed you two disappearing for like an hour last night."

His dad responded with a stiff nod, his eyes glistening with some far off look that resembled a dog being caught nosing through the trash and having no way to hide his guilt. "Carl, about last night..." He couldn't believe he was the one on the spot now. He was the father, not the other way around-but his boy had him on the ropes, he had to admit. "Me and Michonne, we…"

"It's okay, Dad," Carl waved a dismissive hand, cringing slightly. "You don't have to explain. I get it."

"Do you get that it's different?" Rick's scratchy drawl was insistent, but earnest. He tilted his head at the younger version of himself, imploring him not to mistake what he had with Michonne for some frivolous crush. "I...I love Michonne." Rick revealed softly, his eyes narrowing as it hit him that he was admitting this out loud for the first time, to his young son of all people. He forced his gaze back to Carl's, stepping closer to him in all seriousness, now. "And I need to know that you're okay with that."

Carl smiled at him from beneath the brown halo of his wavy hair. "It's cool."

"Yeah?" The older man bit his lip, somewhat sheepishly. Carl was very amused, but wanted his father to feel confident, to know that he had his support.

"I love Michonne, too. So does Judith." He shrugged, turning to look out at their handiwork from the last few hours. "She's a Grimes. She's supposed to be."

Rick stood next to his boy, reaching around his slender, sturdy back to clasp him by the shoulder. "You really feel that way?"

The stoic teenager nodded resolutely. "Yeah. I've kinda felt it for a long time, even back at the prison." Carl glanced over at his father's tired, stubbled face. "So have you, I think."

Rick sighed long and hard, squeezing his son's shoulder. He looked out at the road ahead of them, wondering what lurked beyond where he could see or imagine. What dangers were waiting to take his home and his family away from him? Carl? Judith? Michonne…? His son was right. She was his family, and she always had been, the moment he decided that he couldn't bear to give her up to the Governor.

He wished he had Herschel here now to reassure him that he was making the right decisions. Or even Morgan. He couldn't burden his son with all his hopes and worries at once.

"I think I have too, son…" He answered quietly, frowning up at the afternoon sky.

"I'm in love with Enid." Carl said after a while. Rick looked back down at his young face. He looked serious. He had the instinct to deny his son those feelings; to lecture him or underestimate his capability of being sure of them. Carl was a smart, sensitive boy. He always had been. And he'd been through more than a kid his age should've ever had to. So had Enid. So the man simply nodded slowly, letting this notion settle on him, trying it on for size. "And I think we both owe it to ourselves to just go with it, Dad."

Raising his eyebrows, Rick considered his son's earnest enthusiasm for a moment. "I guess we're goin' with it, then."

Carl gave his father a fist bump and they finished their waters in contented silence. Then Heath came to borrow the lanky kid for the erection of a watch perch in a particularly tall tree hidden a half a mile off the road. Rick watched his young man walk away with his gun and knife and old sheriff's hat. He remembered, like it was just yesterday, when Carl was half that size and his head practically disappeared into that hat. When the gun he was training with was nearly twice as big as his twelve-year-old hands. That wasn't the case anymore, though.

His boy was a man, now. I think we both owe it to ourselves to just go with it...he'd said.

Rick nodded to no one in particular, his thoughts now taking a sudden and dramatic turn toward Michonne. He could not wait to get home to her. He was gonna take his son's advice.

---

Closer to the present...

Jessie sat in the dark, smoking a cigarette, drinking the last of the party beer, thinking about Carol's words.

She had no idea how long she sat there on her porch, drinking the last of the party beer, sometimes with tears streaming down her cheeks, sometimes smiling bitterly. But she thought long and hard about what Carol said. She thought about it, and she realized that that mean old witch was right. She was being weak. And stupid. She was allowing herself to be depressed. She wanted to be depressed. She wanted Rick to feel sorry for her, because deep down she knew that was the only way he might deign to...touch her again...hold her...kiss her...want her. But who would want such a pathetic mess? Carol's words had stung like hell, but Jessie had to admit to herself, sitting in the dark, that they were the fucking truth.

Rick came trudging up the block, his unmistakable silhouette and bow-legged gait singing to her in the dark. She watched him come, her cigarette burning until she had a tower of ash. At first his head was down as he rubbed his neck wearily, coming up around the bend in the little hill that lead to his end of the street. But he would notice her soon, she knew. He would look up and see her and stop and ask her how she was. Ask after Sam. Apologize to her again for his gross display of lust after Michonne, right in her face like she was invisible. And she would accept his apology and prove to him that she could be better. She could be what he wanted; what he needed.

But Rick didn't look up. He didn't pause. She sat in the dark on her porch, and he walked right past her like she wasn't there. His gaze was fixed on his house, where she knew Michonne was waiting for him.

Her heart broke all over again as she stared at Rick's retreating back, walking more determinedly up the hill until he disappeared around the tree that separated her yard from their neighbor's. She sat there numbly, her cigarette now completely out and the ash having fallen across the porch swing to dust the rim of her shoe.

Carol's words became a violent crescendo in her head. Weak. Stupid.

A few minutes later, Carl and Enid passed by. Carl waved at her but didn't stop. Enid tried to offer a smile, but Jessie could barely see it in the dark. She didn't react. She just watched them as they headed toward the Monroe home. It felt bitterly unfair to Jessie that these people had taken over this place to such a degree. Both Deanna and Reg were gone and now their clumsy son was shacking up with Maggie and Glenn like they were one big happy family. They came here and preached 'fight or die' but they were the ones who brought all the danger. Rick had his hands in everything. Michonne was constantly bossing people around. And Carol was...a nasty piece of work as far as Jessie was concerned. She managed to fool everyone with that Mommy Casserole act, but not Jessie.

But maybe that was just the thing. Like she kept telling Sam, "pretend you're brave." Maybe the thing for Jessie to do, until she felt like it was true, was to pretend like she didn't care. Pretend Rick didn't matter to her. Pretend like she was brave, and focused, and ready to work; like she was happy for them.

It was time to stop wallowing in self-induced misery and show them both (show them all) that she was no doormat.

The first thing she was going to do was call Rick on his bullshit. Right now.

He was going to give her a job. Tonight.

Jessie put her cigarette out (even though it had long since extinguished) in the ashtray next to her thigh on the porch swing and got up, smoothing her hair down with nervous hands.

She put on a poker face and made her way steadily to the Grimes' doorstep.

---

The crickets were making a racket in the otherwise heavy evening silence that blanketed the picturesque town.

Jessie stood on the porch, illuminated by the gold lamplight shining down on her from the top of the door frame. She waited. Rang the bell one more time for good measure. She suspected they might be ignoring her, all caught up in each other.

She pushed down the swell of jealousy and mortification that threatened to break her resolve. That was just too bad. She wasn't leaving until she got what she came for.

Finally, she heard heavy footsteps descending the stairs inside and seconds later the lock clicked loudly. Her heart skipped a beat as the door swung open, revealing Rick at the threshold.

He was still in his clothes from the day, emanating the musky, pleasant scent of sweat and earth and the metallic residue from handling guns all day. She had more than once lay awake in her bed all night, thinking of wrapping her naked thighs around him with his ass peeking out of his dirty jeans, having him push into her with that scent surrounding her.

His bright blue eyes latched onto hers and for a split second she could see he was annoyed at having to deal with an unexpected visitor. But as soon as he registered that it was her, he quickly masked his impatience with an expression of concern. Jessie was momentarily speechless, thinking back to when she first met him, watching him leaning slightly to the side, looking every bit as handsome and rugged as an urban cowboy on the cover of some slick, modern-day romance novel. Except she wasn't the love interest in this piece of elaborate fiction. Michonne was.

"Jessie…? Hey." He stepped out onto the porch, leaving the door slightly ajar. "Sorry, I was just puttin' Jude to bed for the night. Everythin' alright?"

Jessie steeled herself, remembering her mission, casting aside the lingering physical attraction that always drove her actions around this intense, inscrutable man.

"No, it's not." She began, hating how minuscule her voice sounded. She pushed on, crossing her arms and shaking a lock of blonde hair out of her face. Rick frowned, shifting on his feet, but didn't say anything. "I want a job, Rick. I want to wake up tomorrow with a purpose. I think, after everything, you should at least hear me out. Don't you think you owe me that?"

He considered her for a moment, unable to stop his eyes from darting around warily. Some part of him would never stop being suspicious, never stop looking for trouble around every corner. Jessie showing up like this was unusual. She usually came around when she was invited, to pick up Judith or drop off Sam, or give Carl a trim.

He didn't know if she could see how distracted he was, how anxious he was to get back inside (where Michonne was waiting for him in nothing but her panties and a tank top), or if she noticed that his jeans were exceptionally snug. He didn't know if she could truly see in his eyes what he was thinking: that he didn't owe her that, but he would grant it because she'd been through alot-even though everything that happened would've happened eventually, without him having a hand in moving things along.

Then again, he didn't much care if she realized that or not. He kicked his mind into problem-solving mode and nodded, his frown deepening. "Well, I was gonna talk to a few people first thing, get everyone's buy in, but I do have a job for you, Jessie."

"Doing what?" She said coldly, but he could tell her heart wasn't really in it. He sighed, feeling sorry for her and hating it.

She wasn't going to like it. But he wasn't going to offer her anything else. He had thought about it all day-it solved more than just her issue of feeling useless (once she got over it, anyway). It made things so that they wouldn't have to run into each other much unless there was an emergency. It put her in a role that he trusted her with more than anything else.

He rubbed his chin and pressed on, looking her squarely in the eyes. "I think you should familiarize yourself with the infirmary. Get trained to be Denise's assistant."

Jessie balked, her pale face going even whiter under the yellow porch light. She was insulted and let down, but Rick stood his ground. "You want me to be a nurse? Are you kidding?"

Rick shook his head, stepping closer to her. Michonne was a fixture in the back of his mind. He needed to get this done and get back upstairs. "A nurse, a surgical assistant-whatever Denise needs. And she does need the help."

"But…" Jessie blinked rapidly, truly at a loss, truly insulted that he saw her as some out of the way nursemaid for the doctor with no self-confidence. "What-what about Tara? What about watch shifts? Or runs? What about all those booby-traps and sniper ditches you've been building around this place for weeks? Can't I be assigned to one of them?"

Rick allowed her her questions, but shut each one of them down nonchalantly. "We need Tara on watch; her skills as a marksman are too valuable. And we're covered on everythin' else."

Jessie bit her lip hard, bouncing her foot in agitation against the sturdy wood of the porch. She couldn't think of how to push back. She was too angry and hurt to formulate a defense for herself. This wasn't going the way she'd intended at all. Showing up here to put on a show of resolve and confidence in hopes that he'd see the fighter hiding inside her was backfiring, quickly.

The battle-weary older man tried a different tack, ready to wrap this up.

"I think it'd be good for you and Sam. Keep you out of immediate danger; give you time to focus on him until he's back to himself again." He gestured to nothing in particular, squinting at her intently. "Denise was in psychology out of med school. I know she could help."

Jessie hated everything he was saying. She further hated that he had convinced himself that his 'concern' for her and Sam would actually sooth her bruised ego. Incredibly, he kept going.

"And it would give me some peace of mind, knowing you'll be there for Judith or Carl...or Maggie, or...Michonne...saving lives instead of havin' to take them. It's a lot tougher job than you think. Can you handle it?" He didn't want to be rude to her, but his reserve of patience was almost totally tapped at this point. He hoped his last remarks would let her know that his mind was made up.

She had no retort. Nothing to lob at him; to fight with. She couldn't mention what she'd overheard between him and Carol. She didn't want to face his anger or mistrust. She had to keep him on her side, or at least pretending to be. Finally, she nodded, though she didn't attempt to hide the disappointment on her face. "So, there's nothing else, then. You're sure about that."

Rick sighed again, rubbing the back of his neck. She was really pushing her luck. "Look, if you want, we can take a vote on it. It's what I think is best, but it doesn't have to be my decision alone." He was trying to be diplomatic, anything to satisfy her and get her off his porch. She looked like she still wanted to argue, but he wasn't about to stand here all night waiting for her to gather her thoughts. He had more pressing matters to attend to. Certainly a hell of a lot more enjoyable.

And he suddenly remembered that he had kissed this woman, not too long ago. And never so much as brought it up afterward.

He dropped his hand from his neck and avoided her eyes, preparing himself to bring it up now.

Jessie realized why he had suddenly gone stiff and silent, and she narrowed her eyes to slits, too angry over his banishment to the infirmary to want anything to do with what he was about to say.

"Don't. Rick? Just...don't."

He nodded slowly, relieved that it wouldn't have to be tonight. Jessie sighed and ran a hand through her hair, desperately needing to get the hell off this porch and smoke a cigarette. She shouldn't have come over here, interrupting whatever the hell it was he was doing with Michonne, to ask him for a job. He didn't take her seriously, and how could he? Carol's voice was in her head again. Stupid. Weak.

Rick finally looked up at her and she could see in his face that he had nothing left to say. She had let him off the hook and their little chat was over.

"If you wanna take a vote, I'll get everybody together tomorrow. I have a few other things to mention, anyway."

Jessie nodded and backed up. He simply watched her go before she turned and stalked down the porch steps, out into the street. She heard the door shut and the lock click before her shoes even touched the curb.

The petite blonde crushed her eyes shut, reeling, reaching blindly into her jeans to dig out her crumpled pack of Marlboro Lights.

She stumbled across the street to stand in the shadows under a cluster of trees, lighting the cigarette with shaking hands. She couldn't bear to go back to her dark, cold, cavernous house with her demented son and her empty bed. Not just yet. Unwillingly, her eyes rose from the street, tears blurring her vision, to the second floor of the Grimes house.

Michonne was visible in one of the windows. She was standing against the wall, her head leaned back, her eyes closed. Like she was meditating.

But a second later, her eyes popped open and she focused on something across from her. She let loose a slow smile, and then Rick was there. Jessie blinked, startled. Her heart sank as she took in the sight of Rick kissing Michonne hard, pressing his whole body against hers, grinding into her, forcing her back against the wall. They kissed hungrily right before Jessie's eyes, the open blinds making them clear as day to her while the light in the room made her invisible to them. Rick sucked hard on Michonne's bottom lip, then let her go to whisper roughly in her ear. Michonne giggled. It was odd to see such a carefree expression disrupt her normally unflappable demeanor.

Jessie watched in silence, taking long drags of her cigarette. Her heart feeling like it was being stabbed with every second that passed. She couldn't look away. She needed to see this. Needed to remind herself just who she was dealing with. Rick Grimes never gave a fucking shit about her. He was selfish and crazy and he had ruined her life. And now he was fucking the woman he'd really wanted all along. Jessie was nothing more than a mirage to him.

She got lost in her thoughts, but quickly focused again on the pornographic scene playing out to her from the upstairs bedroom.

Rick had gotten on his knees, partially hidden from view, and snatched Michonne's panties down her legs. Then he turned her around so he could eat her out from behind. Jessie had to take off running towards her house when she saw the top of his face dive between Michonne's ass cheeks.

---

Rick closed the door on Jessie's retreating back, relieved.

And just as quickly as the lock was turned, he was focusing solely on getting back upstairs to Michonne.

He took the stairs two at a time, then paused to collect himself-shake off his lingering annoyance with Jessie's unexpected visit-before nudging the door open again. She was still leaning against the wall, her head back and her eyes closed. She was gorgeous. An sexy as all hell.

Michonne had been waiting for him, motionless, listening but trying not to hear what was going on downstairs on the front porch. She could tell by the tone of the female voice floating up to her in faint echoes that it was Jessie. Rick's much deeper echoes reached her ears in response to Jessie's, and it sounded like they were either arguing or talking about something serious. Michonne had tuned them out, not wishing to take up space in her head worrying about Jessie Anderson right now.

And finally Rick was upstairs again.

Jessie forgotten, he walked into the room, right up to her. Her eyes popped open and she watched him coming with startled excitement, smiling as he crashed into her, his hands roaming everywhere.

Rick wasted no time claiming her deliciously soft lips with his, grinding himself into her so she could feel how hard he was; how desperate he was for her. She whimpered, melting against him as he pressed her into the wall and rubbed his intoxicatingly thick, hard length along her inner thigh, right up to the parting of her legs. She opened herself wider, desperately needing his bulge to connect with her clit. He understood exactly what she wanted. Rick's back bowed over as he angled himself into her, his tongue diving into her mouth at the same time that his trapped, throbbing dick rubbed against her swollen bud through her sopping wet panties.

The deep, exquisite moan that escaped her lips into his mouth made him even harder. Later, he was going to fuck her long, and hard, and slow. But right now, he wanted to taste every inch of her pussy. He'd been thinking about it all day, and now that he finally had her at his mercy, he was going to get it done.

He let go of her lips and leaned in to whisper in her ear: "I think I'll have my dinner now."

Michonne giggled, high on the sound of his gravelly voice and his hot breath caressing her neck. She was so good and ready for whatever he considered 'dinner'.

Rick held her against the wall with his hands at her waist as he planted indulgent, damp kisses along her neck, collarbone, chest, breasts through her tank top, stomach, and finally all along her panty line. He dipped his tongue out and let it run the length of her inner thigh along her panties to her pelvic bone.

She shivered, unable to stop herself from grabbing his thick, curly hair and digging her fingers in to massage his scalp. Her entire body was fine-tuned to hum with every hot, wet, sticky touch of his plump lips and tongue against her skin. Her pussy yearned for his mouth.

He had her right where he wanted her.

He looked up just long enough to see that she had her head tilted back again, her eyes crushed shut, hanging on his every move. Good.

Rick snatched her panties down her legs, ripped them off her feet and tossed them over his shoulder. Then he gripped her by the hips and spun her around until she was facing the wall. She instinctively braced herself with her hands, but otherwise didn't protest. Her gorgeous ass was in his face now, her juices glistening between her cheeks, beckoning to him. Rick was mesmerized by the sight, his mouth parted, his lips moist. He closed his eyes and leaned in, his tongue diving between her cheeks to taste her tender, soaking wet sex.

Rick licked her from the back of her pussy to the top of her asshole, groaning with satisfaction as he did so. Michonne cried out breathlessly, her fingers scratching at the wall in an uncontrollable reaction to the incredible feel of his thick, hot tongue fondling the most personal and forbidden spot on her body. He lingered there, letting go of her hips to part her cheeks with his fingers, giving him more room to do it justice. He licked her in circles, only pausing to suck on the plump meat of her ass or let his saliva leave his mouth to lubricate her even more for him. Michonne felt like she was leaving her body as he forced her on her tiptoes with the sheer intensity of his administrations.

He was ravenous, and she was always clean as a whistle and smelling divine since they moved here and she started up with her pampering. So Rick indulged, settling in on his knees, gripping her ass cheeks as he licked and sucked her like she was his last meal on earth.

Michonne let loose a wild moan when he slapped her on her right cheek, the sensation vibrating right to her clit. Then he dove in again, his tongue licking every last drop of saliva and precum from her hole before he leaned back and licked his lips. He couldn't help grinning proudly as he watched her gather her wits, sliding her hands all along the wall as she lowered herself flat on her feet again.

She turned to find him still on his knees, gazing at her hungrily, his mouth and chin still glistening with the evidence. She couldn't fucking wait to find out what he was going to do next. And he did not disappoint.

Rick wiped his mouth, gliding to his feet, the predatory glare in his pale blue eyes resembling wolf's orbs. Shit, she was in for it. Michonne felt like her whole body was burning up, trapped by his gaze, her sex so slick and throbbing so intensely that she had to swallow.

He had been careful not to touch her pussy with his tongue while he licked her from behind. He was reserving that part. He knew she was aching for him, but he wanted her screaming his name before this was over with.

Rick was on his feet now, and he reached down to palm his hard dick while Michonne ran a hand through her locs. She eyed him intensely but didn't speak. The look on her gorgeous face reminded him of the day he met her. When she was glaring up at him from the prison floor, bloody and radiant from her sweat and the water he'd poured on her to shock her awake. He had felt himself going hard for her then, and he was sure as shit solid as a rock for her now.

"On your knees, baby." He gestured to the bed and bit his lip sexily, keeping her trapped by his gaze. "I'm not done with you yet…"

Rick was intentionally making his voice smooth and coaxing. Intentionally letting her read all the dirty thoughts in his mind through his eyes. Letting her see how much he wanted her with the example of his steel erection; he palmed it unabashedly, letting her know that it was for her. She would have it in due time, hard and slow. He wanted her dripping. He wanted to feast until there was nothing left.

He knew that if he did this right, she would let him do it again any time he wanted to; at least he hoped.

He loved the taste of her. He'd been remembering it all day. She tasted something like cinnamon or sweet butter with brown sugar mixed into it. Her pussy was heaven on earth, and he couldn't wait to indulge himself again.

Michonne did as he asked without a word. Her silent obedience turned him on somethin' fierce. She had so many tricks up her sleeve, and he was a slave to them all.

Tingling from her head to her toes, Michonne took off her shirt and tossed it aside. Then she settled upright on her knees on the bed, facing the wall again. She felt Rick's weight as he climbed on behind her, and to her delight he wasted no time lying on his back underneath her.

The top of his head appeared between her legs, his dark brown curls beckoning to her. Her insatiable man grabbed her thighs and pulled her down onto his face, his damp, full lips reaching up to kiss her pussy tenderly. His steamy breath, pillow-soft lips, scratchy stubble and warm skin were instant turn-ons, and Michonne moaned softly, already immensely enjoying herself in this position. Then she felt his scorching tongue, parting her to lap at her juices without preamble.

He also parted her cheeks again, holding her weight with the palms of his hands as he balanced her above him, licking and sucking at her slowly. He groaned, his throaty emission vibrating against her uber sensitive skin. She gasped and reached down to clutch at his hair when he finally made his way to her clit, sucking on it hard before licking it in slow, tender circles.

She braced herself with her free hand against the wall, her dreadlocs covering her face as Rick's thick tongue played with her clit, his strong fingers gripping the meat of her ass.

He couldn't get enough of her. He angled his body upward, his eyes shut tight, feasting on Michonne's warm, tangy-sweet center. He tongued her clit with tender devotion and licked between her lips, egged on by the gasps and quiet moans she gave him, or her elegant fingers tugging on his hair.

He wanted to feel her cum on his face.

Michonne's beautifully toned body was perched over his head and chest, her devastating ass cupped in his hands, riding his face with her hair covering hers, so lost was she in ecstasy. She felt herself riding closer and closer to the edge as Rick alternated between sucking on her clit and driving his tongue into her center. When he let go of one of her ass cheeks to thrust two fingers into her, she almost lost it. He pumped her steadily while he ate her pussy, grunting as his movements pushed her ass up and down on top of him. He delighted in fucking her with his fingers, concentrating on sucking her clit and thrusting them in and out of her faster and faster, losing himself in her tender sex, never wanting it to stop, but determined to bring her crashing down around him. "Come on, baby…" he growled with her quivering bud still between his lips, thrusting his fingers still harder, licking and sucking her, so fuckin' in love with her. "Cum for me."

And she did not disappoint. His dusky-skinned warrior shuddered violently and practically screamed, "Ohhh my gooodddd, Riiiiiiiiick!"

He lapped up every drop as Michonne's cum came dripping down into his mouth. Her thighs spasmed and her fingers tugged painfully on his hair, but he simply held her and licked at her, patiently allowing her to ride it out on top of him. His nose was full of her intoxicating scent, his mouth full of her juicy, spasming pussy, his fingers still inside her as her molten walls gripped them over and over again involuntarily. Finally she stilled and blew her thick dreads away from her face, coming down from it.

Rick reverently licked a few last drops from her folds before letting her go. She practically slid off his face to collapse next to him on the bed in a blissful, lethargic heap.

"Fuck you." Michonne croaked, so satisfied that she was in danger of dozing off right then. Though she knew she wouldn't as the sound of his throaty chuckling reached her ears.

She opened her eyes to see him massaging his still-rock-hard cock through his jeans. His blue eyes were shining keenly at her. Michonne licked her lips as he uttered suggestively: "Get on top."

She wasted no time straddling him, her delicate fingers tugging at his belt to free his thick, hard dick.

---

Earlier that afternoon…

Carol spotted Rick, walking alone towards the pantry to get more water for the wall crew, and figured now was as good a time as any.

"Hey boss," she called from her position smoking a cigarette on the corner by the church. "Got a minute?"

Rick stopped in his tracks, frowning over at her under the glare of the sun. "Sure. What's up?"

Carol gestured that he follow her away from the pantry-and any prying ears that might be lurking around. "Take a walk with me."

Rick hesitated, looking around, before following her already retreating form through the trees between the church and the private little cemetery back there. Today was apparently gonna be the day for tough talks, he could already tell. He wondered who else was gonna bring up something today that he'd been dreading discussing. "What is it, Carol?"

She started with the light stuff as he fell easily in step beside her, taking another drag from her cigarette. "I'm thinking of moving out. Tonight, probably."

He glanced over at her, startled. He had been expecting to talk about Morgan. "Why's that?"

She shrugged. "It's time. There are plenty of empty houses to pick from after the Wolves and that herd. And...you look like you could use the privacy."

Rick couldn't help a sarcastic smirk from forcing its way into his expression. "Very funny."

"Oh please." Carol gave him a look. "You think I'm too old to remember what new couples do? That, sort of, frenzied state you get in when you finally discover that you love each other? I know all about that, Slim, trust me."

The gruff group leader shifted uncomfortably but nodded in concession. He wouldn't bother arguing. It wasn't a bad idea. He had actually been wondering how they were going to arrange another night to themselves with so many people in the house. "Fair enough. Well, thank you. For considering us...I guess."

"It'll be nice to have some time to myself, too."

"Let me know where you end up, then. I'll send Daryl to collect his winnings when he gets back." He raised an eyebrow at her, looking at her sideways. "He's off with Aaron gettin' you the stuff to make apple cobbler. You know, for you bet?"

She laughed out loud, covering her mouth with her hand. "Ohhhh, right. That. We were drunk. Had to pass the time somehow. Sorry."

"You're forgiven…" Rick moved a low-hanging branch out of her way as they emerged out onto another block, the one behind the main street, where a row of empty brownstones lay hidden. He paused, his frown returning. "Why are we back here?"

When he turned to look at her again, she was gazing at him silently, her gray eyes holding a mixture of thoughtfulness and something he couldn't quite assign an emotion to. "I can already see the change in you, Rick. Being with Michonne...I'm grateful for it."

He shifted to a taller, more defensive stance, readying himself for the other side of that coin. He tilted his head at her, not wishing to be distracted by her observations about his relationship with Michonne anymore. He could sense there was something else on her mind, some reason she'd led him back to the street no one really spent time on, unless they wanted to be hidden from the rest of the community.

"Why are we back here, Carol?"

Carol sighed and tossed her cigarette out, stepping on it. "I got somethin' to show you."

She started walking without another word, and he followed her. They crossed the street towards one of the brownstones on the left. Rick kept up with her easily, his boots scarcely making a sound in the heavy afternoon silence. Carol led him down to the basement floor of the house, where she pulled out some keys and unlocked the door. Before she opened it, she turned to him, her eyes beseeching.

"Just...promise me you'll let me explain. Okay? There's a good reason for this."

Rick merely nodded, his lips dry, his heart pounding. He had a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. Carol watched him for a few seconds longer, then stepped back, opening the door so he could go in first. He did so, staring hard at his surroundings, reaching to cradle his gun in his palm, just in case.

When he went into the room to his right, what he saw made him stop dead in his tracks. He stared at the scene for a long time, in complete shock, anger, and suspicion. Carol stood behind him, her eyes flickering from the bloody, sick, unconscious man chained up on the floor to the back of Rick's neck warily. He glared at the man with a 'W' carved in his forehead, then turned slowly to meet her gaze with fire in his eyes.

"What the hell have you done?" he growled.