Ding!

The elevator doors swooshed open. Michonne flinched, her nerves on edge.

"You ready?"

She glanced at the transformed man next to her. He wore his crisp uniform with his curls tamed, a dark yet flattering scruff defining his impeccable jawline. His neat style boosted the air of authority that always followed him.

She squared her shoulders and smoothed her hands down the front of her modest, cobalt blue dress. I can do this. She blew out a controlled breath and nodded.

Rick gently laid his hand on the small of her back and led her out to the floor that was humming with the noises of an efficient hive of workers, all striving to achieve a common goal. It reminded her of the busy office back home. A smile pulled at the edges of her mouth. Though she was a stranger to this place, she was in her element.

At first, the hesitant couple went overlooked until a few paused to do a double take. It wasn't every day their boss showed up with a stunning, dreadlocked woman by his side – or any woman for that matter.

Nerves coursed through her as people stared, their curiosities piqued. She held her head high and embraced the attention, though her body tensed at being the center of it.

Sensing a slight resistance, Rick peeked over at her. Her unease began to stiffen her movements, slowing her pace. He reached for her hand and entwined their fingers as if it were the most natural thing for them to do. She faltered at his bold move. He reassured her with a half-smile, hoping she felt the confidence she needed to face her new reality.

She glanced down at their hands, his gold ring glinting at her, momentarily adding to the intimidation constricting her throat. He gently squeezed her hand, a simple gesture provoking a sense of assuredness to quickly bloom inside her. They were in this together. It was time to play her part.

A hesitant smile flickered at her lips, her confidence growing with each step. She could do this. She felt his thumb gently rub against her in acknowledgement, as if he were in agreement.

"Rick?"

The squeak of the bewildered female voice behind them brought them to an abrupt stop. The pained expression on his face puzzled her. Before she could determine who had inspired it, a woman stepped in front of them.

Judging by her lack of uniform and soft appearance, the blonde was some sort of an assistant. Flyaway wisps of hair poked out from the messy ponytail that revealed her rounded cheeks. At first glance, she appeared fairly young but the tired lines around her eyes exposed her real age. It was easy to deduce that she led a stressful life.

The woman's critical eyes scanned Michonne in suspicion. Unimpressed by her standoffish conduct, Michonne merely arched her eyebrow, awaiting an introduction.

"Jessie," Rick exhaled, doing his best to appear well-mannered.

"Good morning," she eyed their interlaced fingers before clearing her throat and extending her hand toward Michonne in a forced sunny disposition, "Hi, I'm Jessie Anderson."

"Jessie is the Administrative Assistant to Chief Phillip Blake," he clarified.

A knowing smile lit up Michonne's face. So this was the woman with a treasure-trove of information that could take down Blake?

It was kismet; it had to be. If she could get on this woman's good side, she could get this story hammered out in a matter of days. The excitement leapt inside her like a spring of eagerness. She just needed to win her over long enough to get the details that confirmed the theories she'd formulated on Blake.

But as Michonne's smile grew wider, the woman's frown grew deeper. Recognizing the green-eyed spark, she realized there was a glaring problem to her plan: this woman was into Rick. Like really into Rick. She could practically see the jealousy radiate off her.

She ignored the unfamiliar emotion simmering inside her and glanced at the object of this woman's affection. Unfortunately, Rick was only giving off vibes of discomfort. She couldn't tell if there was any reciprocating going on or if there was a history between the two.

Michonne was never one to play games when it came to relationships. She never understood the reasoning behind not being straightforward and honest about intentions. Either you were or you weren't. It was a waste of time stringing people along or being strung along with no clear purpose in mind.

It appeared things didn't work that way down here in El Paso.

She examined the woman's pinched face, assessing whether this was of Rick's making or of her own but then she stopped. Honestly, it didn't matter to her either way. It truly wasn't any of her business, even if she was his make-believe wife.

Swallowing down the disagreeing unease, she turned on the charm and warmly accepted her handshake, intentionally releasing her grip on Rick. "It's great to meet you, Ms. Anderson. My name is Michelle Harrison. I love your jacket, by the way. Very chic."

Jessie unsurely tugged at her simple jacket with a small smile. "Oh, thanks. I got it on sale."

"Well, you'd definitely give Brooks Brothers a run for their money. It actually looks like something from this season's collection. Those seams…just gorgeous. And those hems are absolutely flawless."

She hoped to God the bullshit she was making up made it seem like she knew what she was talking about. She covered up her ignorance with a sincere smile.

Eating up the compliment, the smiling blonde nodded. "Thanks."

Rick sucked on the inside of his cheeks. Michonne was a skilled chameleon, capable of making the perfect first impression in any situation. It was fascinating to witness. She could turn on the charm, crack open a person, and pull them out their shell with unsettling ease. Though, he felt a bit smug remembering their first meeting when she had been anything but charming.

He proudly rested his hand on the small of her back. "Jessie, this is my wife, Michelle."

The smile immediately fell from the blonde's hopeful face. Flustered by the news, she attempted to congratulate them. "Wow, that's…wow. I had no idea you were engaged, Rick. Congratulations."

Damn it. Michonne nearly winced at the meager attempt the woman was making to hold back her disillusion. She quickly went into damage control. She couldn't lose this chance to befriend a potential source.

"We're divorced actually," she said with a tight smile, tactfully stepping away from him, "Just stopping by to visit."

Rick's smile fell, curious as to why she was distancing herself from him, both verbally and physically. They were supposed to make this believable. He blinked at her questioningly yet she avoided his gaze.

Jessie flashed her eyes at the jewelry on their fingers, emphatically doubtful of Michonne's claim. "Well, you've got the rings that say otherwise."

Sensing her chance to get closer to the ever-elusive Phillip Blake slipping away, Michonne frantically considered the options she had to save this first-impression. "Oh," she tried to laugh it off, "to be perfectly honest, this was my idea. Rick's just going along with it to get me off his back."

Rick narrowed his eyes. He wasn't sure what she was gaining by denying the entire setup they had agreed to but it was starting to irritate him. He didn't sign up to be denied or dismissed, he signed up to be her husband. Though, as her husband, he needed to trust her. Whatever she was trying to do, he knew he'd be better off if he kept his mouth shut and let her do her thing, as impossible as it was proving to be.

Jessie must have detected his displeasure because she eyed him suspiciously. "Really? I've never known Rick to go along with something just to get someone off his back."

The doors began to shut on her opportunity, her lies stacking up against her. Michonne swallowed back her panic. Her impulsivity had boxed her in to a corner. He had an established identity, his story was solid. And though he'd told her a lot, it wasn't everything.

He cleared his throat, stepping in. "We're workin' through some things still." He reached for her hand, firmly entwining their fingers again. "But we're figurin' it out. Together."

Michonne searched his eyes, her composure quickly returning. He wanted her to slow down: she could read it in his eyes. She imperceptibly nodded. She had jumped in, head first, when this situation called for careful wading. She'd been too eager.

She tried to backtrack, echoing his words, "It is a lot we have to work through but we are trying. And I'm just starting to get used to it."

Jessie nodded, puzzled by the interaction. "Well, I hope it works out for y'all."

Rick nodded, now eased by Michonne's ability to pick up on his silent concern.

"I've gotta go." The blonde awkwardly walked away. "Congratulations, again."

They both assented, their hands still entwined. Once she'd disappeared from view, Rick lowered his voice. "You okay?"

Michonne heaved a sigh. There were times in her life when things went wrong. It wasn't often but when they did, it was important to admit to it. It was the only way to grow.

"I was trying to get an in. Didn't work out like I thought," she admitted reluctantly, hoping he wasn't the kind to gloat.

Surprised by her admission, he quirked his eyebrows and slightly tilted his head in contemplation. She was right but he took no pleasure in it. She was adjusting to a new world, it would take time.

His silence confused her. He wasn't upset or smug, he was almost empathetic. She was expecting more of a reproachful attitude. She was, after all, encroaching on a CIA operative's territory.

Disbelieving of his nonchalant attitude, she further admitted to her folly, curious to see how far she'd have to go to get a more expected reaction, "I really blew it."

He squinted in consideration, still unwilling to openly agree with her. "Maybe."

She side-eyed him, his resistance to fault her beginning to amuse her. "Nothing about that went well."

A small smile twitched at his mouth. Whatever punishment or reprimand she was seeking wasn't going to come from him. He had no interest in making things harder between them.

He shrugged. "Maybe."

She arched her brow. He wasn't going to satisfy her assumptions. The low expectations she had of him were swiftly being thrown out the window.

Studying him once again, she arched her brow. "Mr. Eloquence here," she finally muttered in amusement.

Picking up on her teasing, he laughed almost shyly, playfully fidgeting with her hand. "Maybe."

In that moment, a slight flutter filled their chests. Their first moment as an official couple wasn't a hit but it was how they handled the aftermath together that spoke volumes. Though they were still virtual strangers, their understanding of each other was reaching new and unexpected heights.

For him, it was a relief to finally have somebody he could depend on to give him support and gift him with a different perspective. It wasn't without its intricacies but it was different, different from any of his other partnerships. This whole thing working out for the both of them wasn't such a farfetched idea anymore. He gently tugged at her hand and led her into his office.

She, on the other hand, was still wrapping her mind around it all.

She appreciated his decision to withhold judgement and not criticize her mistake. He could've chewed her out or probably even called the whole thing off. She'd had her fair share of working with men and more often than not, they enjoyed being right. In a situation like this, a man in his position would've taken the opportunity to point out how unprepared she was for all of this, poking at her insecurities, pushing her to question herself. But Rick didn't.

It was as if he had changed overnight. She didn't perceive the tension he'd shown when interrogating her. She didn't even pick up on the annoyed attitude he had when she showed up on his doorstep. It was almost as if he had fully accepted that she'd turned his mission on its head. He was on her side and was willing to help her.

It was...strange.

She was used to fighting against the worst of odds, impossible barriers that refused to budge. But his shell was cracking at such an impressive rate, she was afraid of what it would reveal. She wasn't sure if she was ready to face the fact that the moment he shed his armor, hers would follow.

And on that note, her uncanny ability to self-sabotage reared its ugly head.

She became fully aware that she was in his world now. She needed to play her part if she expected to get anything out of it. This was probably the reason behind his sudden attitude adjustment. He was probably just marking his territory, letting her know that she wasn't as in control of things as she thought.

The notion of him thinking he had full control enraged her. He probably enjoyed watching her dig her own hole. Well, if that was the case, he had another thing coming.

She slipped her hand out of his, the unwarranted anger twisting inside her. She tightly clasped her hands behind her back and wandered around his office. "So how long has Miss Anderson had a thing for you?"

He froze. The shift in her mood was palpable. A hard wall had fallen between them once again. He sighed resignedly. He knew it couldn't last forever.

As for the ever delusional Miss Jessie Anderson, he had done his best to avoid playing into the obvious feelings the blonde held. He'd ignored all her advances and politely declined all the offers she'd made to get to know each other since his arrival.

He had never been the type to lead someone on and Jessie was the last woman in the world he'd ever want to lead on. She was complicated, it practically radiated from every pore. His life was complicated enough without having to add a clingy coworker to the mix.

Even then, it appeared that it wasn't enough to put an end toward her attraction to him, an aspect of his work life he'd hoped Michonne wouldn't pick up on. Unfortunately, the law of averages had decided to conspire against him.

In the hopes of returning to that moment of trust they'd just shared, he feigned ignorance.

Arranging some papers on his desk, he answered disinterestedly, "I don't know what you mean."

She seriously doubted he was that oblivious to his coworker's clear attraction to him. She tilted her head, squinting dubiously. "Come on."

He reluctantly gave in to her accurate accusation with a shrug. "I didn't notice."

"Mm-hmm," she murmured doubtfully, crossing her arms.

He paused. This was new. If he were a bystander to this conversation, he would have certainly interpreted her probing as a show of possessiveness, jealousy even.

He'd experienced jealousy with a dose of heartbreak when he'd caught Lori and Shane but this, this was nothing like that. This beautiful, intelligent, talented woman huffing about his office was insecure about his relationship with his coworker. She had no reason to be and yet she was jealous.

A passionate urge ignited inside him. He couldn't have her doubting his loyalty, even if this was supposed to be a ruse. Those doubts invading her mind needed to be extinguished.

Unable to help himself, he swaggered around the desk and positioned himself in front of her, trapping her between him and his desk. He was near enough to see the widened irises of her dark eyes.

She took a step back, bumping into the desk. The last thing she'd expected was a confrontation. Yet here they were, toe-to-toe inside his fishbowl of an office, her personal space being thoroughly violated. The intense energy rolling off him did nothing to ease her concern.

He tilted his head slightly. "You jealous?"

The bewilderment in her eyes quickly shifted into irritation. He was playing with her. Though, the lack of a smile made her quickly rethink her assumption. Maybe he wasn't playing. Her heart sped up, adrenaline pumping through her veins.

She covered up her breathlessness at his proximity, lifting her chin high and holding her ground. "Should I be?"

He took a step closer, his gaze unashamedly traveling down to her lips, her chest, and back up again. Hunger glinted in his eyes. "Are you?"

She studied him, their intense stare-down drowning out everything else. She felt a pull, drawing her closer to him. She could already imagine his hard body against hers, his lips making her sing in pleasure. It was almost too much. She wanted him. She wanted him in his office, against the desk, in plain view of all these strangers. She wanted him so badly a whimper nearly escaped her parted lips.

If it wasn't for the throat clearing coming from the doorway, she was certain she would have committed an indiscretion. Luckily, the noise was enough to break the trance.

They pulled away awkwardly. At least she did in an attempt to regain some composure. Rick simply looked annoyed at the interruption.

Two men were staring at them, one with a knowing smile and the other with a distrustful glare. The officer she'd met a few days ago broke the tense silence with a cheery greeting, "You're Michelle, right?

Still composing herself, she nodded with a tight smile. "Nice to see you again, Officer Rovia." She half-waved in his direction, still blocked in by Rick's unmoving presence.

"Please, my friends call me Jesus." He smiled humbly but the man next to him continued glowering at her.

Deciding to introduce her properly, Rick stepped to the side to present her to his colleagues. "Jesus, Daryl, this is Michelle, my wife."

Daryl narrowed his eyes. Jesus widened his eyes, verbalizing his surprise, "Oh wow, I had no idea you were married."

"I was…," Rick closed his eyes, quickly correcting himself, "...am. We're tryin' – again."

Jesus nodded in slow understanding. "So the whole foundation thing?"

Michonne swiftly explained, "My sad excuse to see Rick again."

Jesus nodded with an impressed smile. "Well, I'd say more believable than sad. So you guys haven't seen each other in a while then?"

Rick nodded, locking eyes with her, adding another detail to their carefully constructed story. "A few years but we've been talkin'; writin' each other for a few months."

"Oh, so this is a surprise visit?"

The man next to him finally grunted his displeasure at being left out of the loop. "Hmm, surprise."

Michonne evenly stared at the glowering man. Smiles and small talk wouldn't work with this one. She tested out the waters. "Rick's already told me so much about you two."

That was a lie. He'd only mentioned being careful around his partner because he was good at sniffing out lies. He never mentioned that he looked like he was straight out of a biker gang.

"Yeah? Well, we haven't heard anything about you," he rasped out, his voice sharp with resentment.

"Daryl," Rick warned. He didn't like the tone his partner had taken with her but before he could step in, Michonne spoke up.

"I imagine not. Rick and I, we…we didn't end on a very good note."

"Yeah, what note's that?"

Michonne bit back the need to put the man in his place. If Andrea were here, she wouldn't have hesitated. Thankfully, Andrea wasn't here. Instead, she steeled herself, careful to not burn any bridges. "I wanted a career so I left. I thought it was best if he lived his life without any resentments."

The shaggy-haired man scoffed as if he had the right to judge her.

"Daryl," Rick warned again in a threatening voice.

Ignoring his partner, Daryl continued pressing, "Yeah? And how does he know you won't do it again?"

She narrowed her eyes at him. She understood his overprotectiveness but she wouldn't stand for anyone calling her character into question, even if she was playing a part.

"I'm done taking breaks," she stated firmly and without hesitation, her tone leaving no room for argument.

Rick and Jesus remained silent, awaiting Daryl's response, ready to jump in if necessary.

The shaggy-haired man considered her firm response before plainly stating, "Rick's a good guy."

She picked up on the unsaid words. Rick was a good guy and didn't deserve to be mistreated, especially by the woman he chose as his wife. She couldn't agree more but kept her answer as succinct as possible. "He is."

He watched her for a moment as if to detect any sign of a lie. Satisfied by her words and demeanor, he grunted in response, their brief clash ending in an unspoken understanding.

Jesus eyed Daryl, carefully bringing an end to their visit. "Well, it was very nice meeting you, Michelle. We just stopped by to say hi but we'll see you around."

She nodded. "See you, too."

Once they'd left, she blinked and let out a slow breath. The reality of what she'd stepped into was becoming clear. She really was in his world now, a world where Rick Grimes was a leader with loyal friends, the object of a woman's desire, and now her husband.

He carefully eyed her. "At least the hard part's over."

She remained silent. His words weren't true. Standing up for herself in front of complete strangers was a small victory. This wasn't over, not by a long shot.

This was more than just pulling one over on people. These were real people they were manipulating. And where there were people, real danger and real emotions followed.

The numbness she'd held on to for the past year was finally falling away. It was inopportune but opening up was something she needed to do in order to pull this off. Thankfully, it was with someone she trusted, even if he had his own motives for this arrangement.

A halfhearted smile twitched at her lips. She couldn't tell him they hadn't reached the hard part; that things weren't going to get easier.

She just quietly agreed, though the words fell unnaturally from her tongue, "Yeah, hard part's over."

He nodded, doubt gnawing at him. It was easier to believe her than to force her to reveal her hesitancy. She'd share when she was ready.

"Alright then." He nodded in acceptance, his fingers fidgeting on his hips. "Let me give you the tour."

He showed her around his small and sparsely decorated office. He showed her the ins and outs of accessing his computer and office phone. He pointed out where the bathroom, copy machine, and break room were located. He advised her on who to avoid and who to ask for certain things. He told her she needed to sign a few forms but her desk was ready, she'd just need to get her temporary office assistant ID badge before she settled in.

The last part nearly slipped past her. Nearly.

"What?" Scowling at him as if he'd lost his mind.

He paused peering around his office unsurely. "Well, you can't come and go as you please without clearance." He shifted his stance and tilted his head, "I thought that was implied."

She blinked at him incredulously. "No."

How could that have been implied? How the hell was she supposed to assume that she'd have to pretend to be married to him and work for him in order for her to get what she needed? This was not part of the plan. Though, her outrage didn't appear to register with him. He simply blinked at her.

More insistently, she maintained, "No."

He raised his eyebrow, unsure of why she was so against the idea.

"No," she repeated more firmly widening her eyes for emphasis.

He sighed. "Michonne, I can't give you everything you need if you're just my wife. That part just gives you credibility. It keeps you safe. But here, you need to move around, get to know people, see what you can see."

"I am an editorial journalist, Rick, not an undercover agent," she reminded him, her lips pursed in annoyance.

He lowered his voice, moving closer to her to keep the conversation between them. "I know that but this isn't gonna work if you're not here."

She huffed in irritation. As upset as she was, she let his assertion ruminate in her mind.

As his assistant, she could track his every move and everybody else's. She could follow all the leads she liked. She'd be in control. This was all on top of the fact that it helped with their getting-to-know-each-other-as-spouses angle. It was the smart move. The least she could do was try.

She exhaled resignedly, defeated by her own logic. "I'm not fetching you coffee or your dry cleaning," she muttered, eyeing him.

He tried not to smile at her adorable pout, resting his hands on her arms, rubbing them soothingly. "I can get my own coffee and I've never dry cleaned anything in my life."

She silently scrutinized him.

He continued persuading her, "I promise I won't make you fetch anything for me. Just tell me when I need to go and where I need to be. That's all."

Pausing to eye him distrustfully, she nodded unenthusiastically. He continued rubbing her arms, a gentle expression softening his features. The sigh she wanted to let out dissipated when she blinked up at him, her heart suddenly loud in her ears.

He wasn't accustomed to holding a woman in his office yet it didn't stop him from gently stroking her arms with his thumbs. It was hypnotizing. He melted in her big, dark stare. Their proximity dizzied him. He glanced down at her lips and softly breathed his gratitude, "Thank you."

The tension from earlier returned with a vengeance. He wanted to kiss her. No, he needed to kiss her. Restraining himself from succumbing to the pull he felt was beginning to resemble an exercise in futility. It almost felt ridiculous pretending that this wasn't leading to something more than they planned. The hardening bulge in his pants agreed, a state that hadn't truly diminished upon first seeing her in that blue dress that emphasized her perfectly sculpted body.

Just as their faces neared each other, a knock at the door startled them both.

"Rick, the meeting's about to start."

He inhaled sharply, holding back an expletive, and quickly took a step back. A young woman stood in the doorway, smirking at them. He awkwardly rubbed the back of his neck, doing his best to hide his palpable arousal. "Rosita, hey."

"Hi," she chirped out knowingly.

He stuttered out an introduction, "This is, uh, Michelle Harrison."

A coy grin appeared on her face as she crossed her arms. "Por fin. Does this mean I can stop doing all this extra work for free?"

He laughed uneasily, the moment dissipating. He turned to explain the situation to Michonne. "Rosita's been handlin' my affairs since they left me in charge. She's helped me hold things down around here with all the schedulin' and paperwork. I called her this mornin' to let her know you were replacing her."

"Rosita Espinosa," she said with flourish, reaching out to firmly shake her hand.

Still reeling from their near kiss and slightly put out by Rick's confidence that he knew she would accept the position as his assistant, Michonne distractedly extended her hand. "Micho-Michelle Harrison, nice to meet you."

They cordially shook hands then Rosita lifted her chin toward Rick. "So you married this guy, huh?"

"I did."

Impressed, she arched her brow at her boss. "Damn, you never told me your wife was out of your league."

Rick gave the young officer an admonishing smile, amused by her accurate comment and grateful for the break in the tension.

Rosita gently nudged him. "I'm just messing with you. It was really nice to meet you, Mrs. Grimes." She reached out to shake her hand again. "We're looking forward to having you on board. But right now, we gotta go. Staff meeting," she reminded her boss.

He nodded earnestly but turned to confirm with her. "Will you be alright for a few minutes?"

Puzzled by his concern, she answered slowly, "Yeah, I'll be alright."

He searched her eyes. He'd put a lot on her. He wouldn't blame her if she ran away at the first chance of escape. Though, she wouldn't make it far if she tried.

Hoping she'd still be there when he returned, he prompted her, "If you need anything, text me."

"I will."

He felt tongue tied. Their interrupted moments were still in the air. He wasn't sure where all this tension was coming from but it was more than palpable. If they weren't careful, it would start punctuating all their interactions.

And if he wasn't careful, he'd cross a line he wouldn't be able to uncross.

Rosita interrupted his concentration, his stare nearly igniting the whole office. "Híjole, Rick, you can snack on your wife later, let's go." The young officer walked out of his office, knowing full well what she'd provoked.

His face flushed at her insinuation as he quickly stepped away. Was it that obvious? Refusing to meet his wife's gaze, he nodded in her direction before striding out of his office.

Michonne narrowed her eyes at his odd behavior before shaking off the unease that had settled in her shoulders. Arousal and apprehension were not a good combination to incite in the workplace. She had to focus. She was on assignment, she couldn't get distracted. She took a deep breath and focused her thinking. She turned to his desk, trying to decide what she should do first.

She cautiously walked around to sit in his chair. She adjusted herself to the roomy seat and turned to his computer. She jiggled the mouse, the desktop appearing before her. Scanning around the office through the glass walls, she subtly stuck a USB drive into the computer. Pretending to swipe through her phone, she leaned forward and started dragging folders to her files that seemed important.

She came across one named Woodbury. She opened the most recent report.

Thursday, June 15th, 4:52 AM. Homicide. Neil Gargulio. Age 21. American. Employed by Miraflores Imports Truck Driving. Possible ties to La Leña. Shot fired within a residency on the outskirts of Ciudad Juarez. Close range single gunshot to the head. Evidence of assault. No prints were found. Car with American license plates seen fleeing the scene. No possible suspects.

Pushing down the familiar sick feeling at imagining the sheer brutality of the crime, she dragged the file into her drive. It was an execution, the first real sign of cartel violence that could potentially be linked back to Blake. Rick had known about this since this morning. Why would he not tell her about this?

She sat back in the chair. Disappointment was just one of the many words she would use to describe her current state of mind. She thought they were on the same page. She thought he trusted her as much as she trusted him. She ignored the sharp stab of betrayal in her chest. There was no reason to feel betrayed. This was an assignment, something she couldn't take personally.

She closed her eyes in acceptance. This was a job – her job – and if Rick wasn't going to help her, she would get it done herself.

Hello again! Apologies for the long wait. I hope y'all are doing great!

Sooo, I know this is definitely living up to the slow burn mentioned in the description of this story. I can't imagine your frustration with these two (yes I can). But trust me when I tell you, it will all be worth it.

There's still some getting to know each other before we get to the real reason as to why this is rated M. And I hate to tease you with it but I've already started working on that scene and these two...just...damn. We're definitely going to experience a nearly unbearable, tension-filled buildup in the next few chapters (at least if I can stick with my outline). But, like I said, it will be worth it. ;)

As always, thank you to my beta, michonnesburnham on Tumblr for being amazing and helping me out with editing.

And a big, big thank you to everyone who has urged me to continue with this story. Your kind words of love and patience mean everything to me. A special shout out to those of you who have PM'd me to offer support and encouragement. It truly touches my heart that I get to experience the thoughtfulness and kindness of the Richonne fandom when I need it most. It's truly a beautiful thing we have here.

Anyway, let me know what you think, what you're looking forward to this year, how you're handling the current season of TWD, just anything really. I love reading your comments, they bring light to my life.

Best wishes on this coming year. May 2018 bring you all the love and happiness you lovely readers deserve. Happy New Year!

Your optimistic writer,

semul