Author note: I decided to start putting dates so that the weeks and months are easier to follow, as I'm notoriously bad with timelines and I am working on that! A lot of news pieces happen concurrently with current news, but happen in the timeframe of the story, and some are completely made up, I hope that's okay. Also, I appreciate your reviews.

Chapter Seven: Because It's Christmas

One week and two days later

Monday, December 25, 2017

7:15 A.M.

Michonne sat in her office, eagerly awaiting Rick and Carl. She knew that it was sort of foolish to expect the young boy to run through those doors, but it was Christmas, and part of Christmas meant Christmas miracles. But, when Rick finally did trudge through the door, he was alone, and her stomach dropped just slightly.

Masking her disappointment, she focused on completing an unfinished task from the day before.

"Hey," she heard him greet her. "I got your tea and a muffin…"

She turned to face him. "Oh, thank you," she took it, and then faced back towards her task.

But, Rick knew her better than that. He knew that something was bugging her. Her normally bright face, even if annoyed, was always jubilant in the mornings. Today though, she seemed down about something, her usually sparkling eyes were duller and her eyes were slightly defeated.

"You okay?" he asked.

She simply shrugged, not saying anything.

"Come on, Michonne," Rick pressed. "It's Christmas."

Michonne sighed, unable to resist that velvety accent or those pretty eyes for too long. "Where's Carl?"

"I dropped him off at his mother's first thing this mornin'," Rick told her, noticing how her face dropped at the news.

She once again tried, but failed to mask her disappointment. "Oh."

"Yeah, I wanted him for longer, but Lori wasn't having it. I didn't want to fight her, not today. Not after having him for a week on my own," He admitted. "I should probably fight harder, after what she did."

Michonne didn't want to press him, and she definitely didn't want to make him feel bad, so she simply pushed her thoughts of longing aside and pulled out something from her desk. It was one of her old Santa Hats and a red nose, which she'd kept in there for nearly a year, unsure of which sucker would be forced the wear them on air.

"I am not wearin' that on air, Michonne!" Rick protested, crossing his arms over his chest, and pouting like a child. "I am not gonna be the Sucker Santa."

"Come on," Michonne smirked, mimicking his tone. "It's Christmas, and it would make me feel better."

Rick sighed heavily, his eyes crossing back to hers, and he knew that he'd never be able to resist those rich brown eyes that could probably make him do anything that they wanted. "Fine," He finally muttered, snatching the nose and hat from her, and quickly putting them on.

When he turned around, she couldn't help but giggle at him. His usually salt and pepper beard, neatly trimmed, was nearly white and longer. He looked like the Santa in some magazine for DILFs, which was the best Santa of all.

"Do you wanna sit in Santa's lap?" He asked flirtatiously.

She flushed, her cheeks growing warm. I am not getting dirty thoughts about Santa. On Christmas. "Not today, wise guy."

"Oh, come on, it's -"

Before Rick could continue, Negan, their network boss walked in, with Abraham and Dale at his sides. Nervous, Rick and Michonne sat up immediately and pretended to sort through some paperwork, to try and look like they were at least being a little bit productive. They failed when Negan eyed Rick's red nose, and he chuckled to himself. Rick, who was unamused, just sent a glare his way, which wasn't very intimidating given what he was wearing.

"I'm sorry to have y'all working like this on Christmas," Negan began, leaning back for the first time. "But this is a twenty four hour program and we've got shit to do," He continued, while Abraham and Dale quietly nodded next to him. "I've already spoken to Dale about this, but we're changing things up for the new year, which means you two are now in the eight o'clock and nine o'clock hour, and those sorry shits - wait, what are those sorry shit's names?"

Negan turned to question Dale. He nervously nodded again, and answered. "Dwight and Sherry…"

"Sherry is hot as hell, but we're going down the tubes in that hour," Negan said bluntly. "Starting in the new year, you two are doing two hours of coverage, we're gonna get y'all to do interviews with Vanity Fair, talk shows, all that shit…"

Michonne and Rick just gulped, this was their big break, but somehow it all felt too good to be true. Negan just watched the two, curious about them, but he also wanted to test how far he could push them before they cracked, how much he could milk this before canning them for the latest. He'd just have to wait.

"Ta, ta," Negan turned around. "And merry fucking Christmas."

With this, he walked off, Dale eagerly following after, but Abraham stayed.

"You look like you just got butt fucked by Santa," Abraham said, as crass as ever. "So, I assume this is your doing?"

Abraham asked this, but not so secretly watched the pair of them. Watching them was like watching a national geographic or animal planet documentary, one that's gently narrated, about mating animals in the wild. Each day, they'd get closer and closer together, but act oblivious to what everyone else could see. He saw it now in how Michonne's eyes grew soft over Rick, and how he wore those damn props for her.

"Yes," Michonne nodded.

"Well, fry my biscuits and call me Popeyes, are you going to go on air? With that?" Abraham chuckled, she really did have him by the balls.

Rick blushed. "Yeah," Rick confirmed. "It's not so bad."

Abraham just chuckled, amused by how whipped Rick was without even knowing it. He decided to switch gears. "Where's that young man who desperately needs a haircut?"

"With his mom," Michonne answered, almost instinctually.

It caused Abraham to raise his brows with intrigue at the pair of them, but he decided not to say anything. It was a lot easier to deal with them when they weren't arguing every five seconds about something insignificant. So, he decided, he'd just let this play out.

"Meeting is at 8," Abraham told her, switching gears. "Be there."

And with that, he swiftly walked off.

9:00 A.M.

"Merry Christmas, y'all, I'm -"

He could hear Michonne giggling uncontrollably next to him, so he turned to face her.

"What's funny?" He asked.

"You have to introduce yourself as Santa," She said through giggles.

"You didn't tell me that I had to do all that," He accused her, forgetting about the news, or Dale, who stood behind the studio engineers mouthing 'you better fucking do it, Grimes.'

She ceased giggling, a smirk forming on her face. "Come on," She pressed in a slightly seductive, flirty voice. "It's Christmas."

Rick gulped, staring at the camera, Dale, Abraham, Aaron, who wore his best red tie and tired expression, and Eric, who just seemed eager to record the mess that was unfolding in front of him. He felt her silly voice in his ears and unfortunately, in his groin too. He wanted to bend her over the news desk and fuck her right there on air for teasing him like this, but he didn't. Instead, he decided to play this little game of hers.

"Merry Christmas, to all of you out there watching," He paused, giving a pointed glance to Michonne. "I'm Santa."

"And I'm Santa's favorite elf, Michonne Anthony," Michonne introduced herself. "This morning, we're talking about various Christmas traditions around the world, and, we're going to use Rick as our little scapegoat."

Rick stared wide eyed into the camera, as Michonne got up and sat in his lap.

"The biggest one is sitting in Santa's lap," She said. "Right, Aaron?"

The camera panned to Aaron, who for the first time was actually speechless. He didn't know where this was going or why Michonne was currently in Rick's lap; he also wasn't exactly sure how to diffuse either, either. What was he supposed to even say? 'Hey, Michonne, don't give him a lap dance on air,' wouldn't have exactly sounded all that great. He just steeled himself, and decided to just play along with it.

"That's right, Michonne," Aaron nodded, forcing a smile on his face.

Michonne sat on Rick's lap for one long, awkward moment longer, before hopping off and sliding into her chair. And, Rick finally let out the breath that he'd been holding the entire time. It was one thing to see her ass encased in those body hugging skirts and slacks, but it was another thing to feel how deliciously plump and big it was. Rick was also sure that Michonne felt exactly how much he'd enjoyed that part of it.

"Moving right along…," Michonne stacked some papers on the table and awkwardly coughed. "Let's talk about what nationality Santa Claus is around the world…"

10:15 A.M.

Michonne leaned over the bathroom counter, splashing water on her overheated face. There was something so fucking attractive about Rick in that Santa attire, with that red nose that made her want to jump him every time she looked his way. It had driven her so crazy, that she'd nearly given him a lap dance on air. She was also sure that she felt how much he enjoyed it, and the part of her that wanted it, was into it.

Or maybe she was just really horny and Rick was a handsome man.

Yes, that's it. Maybe I'm just really horny.

Michonne nodded to herself, that was what it was. It was not unresolved sexual tension or the crackling sexual energy or her being attracted to Rick, it was simply that she hadn't had sex in awhile that made her act crazy in regards to him. Confident and sure, Michonne straightened her navy blue blazer and white dress shirt, and prepared to leave, when another woman walked in.

It was Maggie, of whom she hadn't seen in quite some time. "'Chonne!" the younger woman nearly shouted, as she wrapped her arms around her. "I haven't seen ya around since you hit the big time."

"Not much has been going on," Michonne chuckled, as Maggie pulled out a tube of red lipstick and reapplied her make up.

"So you're not fuckin' Grimes three ways to Sunday?"

Michonne gasped, and sputtered at Maggie's direct question, which caused her to smirk.

"I take that as a no," Maggie continued. "You two should. Jeez, it's like watching foreplay…"

"Neither of us want each other like that," Michonne told her, and then her face softened. "We're buddies."

"Buddies who want to bang," the younger woman said.

Maggie was sharp, and had known Michonne for nearly a year. Her emerald green eyes were shrewd, and her youthful beauty always earned her certain exclusives on stories, which she took advantage of. She'd become the station's top reporter once Michonne had ascended to anchor, and that made their actual greetings few and far between. But Michonne always admired Maggie's honesty.

She decided to open up. Just a little. "I'm going to tell you something, but you can't tell anyone."

Maggie nodded, looking back at the stalls to make sure that they were completely empty. "I'm all ears."

"I - I like Rick," Michonne finally admitted. Maybe for the first time, to anyone, even herself.

"Everyone likes Rick," Maggie shrugged, playing dumb.

"No, I mean that I like Rick," Michonne went on, each word feeling like she was unleashing some weight that has been on her shoulders. "I like his son, I like him as a person, I'm - I'd like to fuck him six ways to Sunday and the tension between us is driving me crazy."

Maggie just giggled, wrapping Michonne in a comforting hug. She knew the feeling of being attracted to your coworker, and she'd always suspected that Michonne and Rick may have had things for one another, but to hear it, to actually hear Michonne say something like that was crazy. Michonne Anthony always had her shit together, but here in this bathroom, her eyes were wild and she was vulnerable.

"Honey, I know. And now you've just gotta make him yours," Maggie told her.

"How do I-"

Before Michonne could continue her question, the tell tale sound of high heels clicking made her stop. It was Jessie Anderson, oblivious to the exchange who walked in.

"Hey!" She greeted cheekily, taking up a station on the other side of the mirror. "I love bathroom chats! It's just like high school."

Jessie squealed, but when her back turned, Michonne and Maggie found their escape.

7:00 P.M.

Michonne sat at the bar nursing a drink. Negan was throwing his annual Christmas shebang for the network, which meant that everyone had come out, and turned the top floor to CNN studios into one big bar. Even Anderson Cooper had shown up, which made Michonne a little too eager. That man was fine, she thought.

But, she missed Rick and wanted to know where he was. Her eyes scanned the room, eying Glenn who was engaged in a beer chugging war with Maggie, Jessie dancing seductively (or so she thought) with one of the sound engineers, Eugene, another sound engineer, stood talking animatedly by the tree with Abraham, who just looked annoyed, and finally Aaron and Eric, who stood in the far corner talking closely. The scene was intimate, the song playing was Mariah Carey's "All I Want For Christmas Is You," it was nice.

The bartender came over and slid a new drink in front of her, which she took.

"How many of those have you had?" Rick asked, sliding comfortably next to her. He was still wearing that damn hat and red nose.

"This one is my third," Michonne admitted. "But it's nothing too strong."

"You sure you should be drinkin' that much?"

"I'm drinking enough, Rick."

Caught off guard by Michonne's hard, defensive tone, Rick's face softened. "I wasn't tryin' to control your alcohol consumption, I was just...concerned," He paused, averting his eyes away from her. "I know you were upset about Carl this mornin'."

"I wasn't -," Michonne sighed. She couldn't deny it like she couldn't deny her feelings for him. "Okay, I was. I liked that kid a lot, and it made me think about Andre…," She paused, deciding to just unload her feelings bit by bit. "I wanted to take some time off to spend some time with him, sort things out at home, but now Negan is promoting us."

A week had passed since she'd met Carl, and during that week, they'd formed a sort of daily routine with him. In the mornings, Rick would bring Carl to the station, and the young boy would eagerly assist in whatever small duties Abraham would assign to him, then Rick and Michonne would engage in their daily mating dance on air, afterwards they'd grab lunch at Sasha's sandwich place, followed by more work securing guests, keeping up with current events, and writing articles.

Along the way, Michonne found herself falling in love with Rick's son Carl, and a big part of her wanted to fix whatever was wrong in her relationship with Andre. She'd see it in how Rick cared for Carl, and how he loved him.

"I know it's hard to be there your your son," Rick said. "I feel it when I know that I'm not spendin' enough time with Carl, but kids are - kids are funny in that they only remember when you're there, and forgivin' in when you're not."

Michonne sighed, pulling at her dreadlocks which were in a high ponytail. "I - I just worry that I'm not doing enough for my son," she admitted. "That Negan would replace me with the next white girl with nice breasts."

Rick heard her words, and saw her pain. He knew that it was hard to be a dark skinned black woman on television, especially a highly competitive environment. And, he respected her like no one else, it was probably why he'd tried to make her life hell. Maybe it was his twisted way of getting someone like Michonne Anthony to notice him.

"There's never gonna be another Michonne," he began. "But," He paused, and motioned towards a besotted Maggie and Glenn, who drunkenly held onto each other. "You'll also never be able to get those years back. I regret many things, and that's always at the top of my list."

She gulped, reaching out to clasp his hand. "Thank you, Rick."

Their hands lingered for a second too long, as they both felt that electricity shooting through them. Rick's eyes fell to her lips, which were plump, her red lipstick making them look even more inviting. His eyes raked down to the right red dress that she wore, which made her cleavage look delicious. Fuck it. I want her. He thought, carelessly, as he moved in. Closer and closer, until…

"There they are!" came Negan's booming voice. "My stars!"

Rick and Michonne quickly pulled apart, and there stood a group of older executive types, who stared at the pair of them like you'd stare at caged animals at the zoo. They were still hot and bothered from their almost kiss, and frazzled a bit, so they didn't know what to say or do.

"It's very nice to meet you both," said one of the old men. "You've made a lot of money for the network in the last month."

"And I've just made sure that these two go in at eight!" Negan told him. "We're gonna fuck the shit out of TODAY."

Michonne and Rick just sat there, still not saying anything as Negan continued leaning and storytelling to the men that they'd never met before. Hell, this was the longest that they'd ever seen Negan.

" - We're gonna have y'all on the desk, on talk shows, covers, everything. We might even put y'all on the front lines too!" Negan said, with a lean and a smile. "Be prepared to have no fucking life except each other…"

The two of them stared at each other, unsure if that was a really good thing or a bad thing. For now, they needed to figure out what was going on between them.