I got the new world in my view

on my journey, I pursue

oh, I'm running,

running for the city

I got the new world in my view

-King Britt, 'New World In My View'


"What the hell is it?"

Daryl stared down at the brown lump of...stuff...wrapped in plastic that Denise was holding out to him expectantly.

"Homemade oat cake," The doc said matter-of-factly, adjusting her glasses. "Loaded with essential proteins, it's good for you - eat it."

"No thanks," he dismissed her, turning back to his task. "Gonna make a pit stop along the way. I'll catch somethin' then."

"What, like rabies?" She deadpanned, staring at him.

Daryl stood up straight from checking the oil on the R.V., wiping his hands on the towel from his back pocket. He looked down at the lumpy mass of 'protein' in her hand. "This 'cause I brought you all that medical shit?"

"Yeah...and...you remind me of someone." She shoved it at him and he took it.

"Well, I hope it tastes better'n it looks. 'Cause it looks like shit."

Carol watched Daryl talking with Denise from the porch, her arms folded. As she watched their exchange, she couldn't help thinking back to the early morning, when he'd been so close to kissing her. The very thought of being with a man like that again, let alone Daryl, filled her with fear. She wasn't afraid of him, she was afraid of herself. She was his only friend, other than Rick. The only one who knew what his insides looked like. She couldn't take that away from him. And at the same time, she wanted to. She wanted to cease being his dependable old friend Carol. Open her legs for him, and fuck him into the floor. Maybe what she needed wasn't dependable old Daryl. Maybe she needed exactly what he was offering her - what was trapped in his jeans, hanging down his leg.

Maybe he needed a new friend and they both needed to get laid.

Denise must've said something corny, because Daryl rolled his eyes and shook his head while the young doctor blushed and waved him off, heading suddenly in the other direction. He watched her go, his face scrunched up with confusion.

Carol sighed and turned to see Jessie Anderson standing on her porch in the distance, watching them all prepare to leave for Hilltop. Their gazes met, and Carol recalled their earlier conversation. As she thought of all the shit she was juggling, and what was still to come, she could only smirk and shake her head, turning her attention back to Daryl and the R.V.

This was shaping up to be a hell of a spring.


"Just for a day, maybe two…" Rick was explaining patiently to Sasha, Tara, and Rosita as they trudged up the hill towards his house.

He had borrowed them from their posts to give them orders about rotation on watch (with Spencer) of the Wolf in the basement while they were gone to investigate Hilltop with Jesus. Michonne had gone on ahead with the man in question to help ready the R.V. so they could take off when he got there. He looked up and noticed Jessie standing on her porch as they walked. He nodded to her, pausing what he was saying. She stared at him, and eventually nodded back.

"We're already spread thin enough as it is, Rick," Sasha uttered, squinting at the R.V. outside his house as they came to a stop and huddled together in a circle in the street. "This is gonna weaken us."

Rick sighed and nodded, already having thought of that. "I'm goin' to get us more people. Allies." He said gruffly, dipping his head at them sincerely. "Food. And other supplies that we need. I promise you, one way or the other, things are gonna get better, soon."

Sasha looked to Tara and Rosita. Rosita sighed and nodded, her eyes resolute from under the brim of her cap. Tara nodded, too. Sasha turned back to Rick and shrugged. "Alright. I'll take first watch at the brownstone. Heath owes me a double shift, anyway."

Rick gave her a grateful smile. "It's just a couple of days. You know what you're doin'. Stick to protocol and I'll be back as soon as I can."

All three women agreed and he dismissed them, turning to head up to the house.

"That's nothin, man. I had to eat barbecued dog once." Carl was saying to Sam as they came around from the back of the house, carrying arrows and what looked like one of Daryl's old bows. "As a matter of fact - I've even had to eat dog food."

"No way!" Sam gasped, turning a disgusted face up to what was visible of Carl's underneath all his hair and his dad's old hat.

"Yep." Carl smirked as Rick watched them make their way toward him, curious wonder softening his world-weary face. "Right outta the can. That's what you gotta do when you're out in the open."

They came to a stop a few paces from Rick, and Carl turned to hand a small satchel full of the arrows they'd retrieved from the back yard to the younger kid. Sam hooked the bow over his shoulder, slumping slightly to the side with the girth of it, and accepted the arrows gratefully.

"We're lucky to have walls, Sam." Rick heard his son say seriously as he looked on, speechless. "Yeah, sometimes bad things get in, but it's our job to be ready for 'em. To protect our own. So you gotta practice, okay?"

"I will, I promise." Sam nodded eagerly, his eyes showing signs of life Rick hadn't seen in months. "I'll be a better shot next time."

"Deal. We'll use a real target once you've had some time to practice."

"Cool!" Sam's eyes got even wider.

"Hey, boys…" Rick finally interrupted. They both looked over at him as he approached. "Sam? Your mom's waitin' for you, son. Why don't you go show her your new bow?"

"Yes sir. Bye, Carl! Thanks for the bow!"

Sam took off towards his house, Rick and Carl watching him until he turned into his yard and sprinted up the stairs to his mom's waiting arms. He immediately showed her his bow, and she knelt down to give him her full awe and attention, her eyes glistening under the sun.

Rick turned back to his son and tilted his head in wonder again. "You've been busy, this mornin'..."

Carl smiled and nodded. "Yeah I guess I have. Sam's a good kid." His boy looked over to their porch, where Michonne was emerging with Jesus, handing Judith to Carol. He switched subjects, gazing at the scene. "So, you sure about this, Dad?"

Rick sighed and looked over at his family, too. "No. But, we have to check it out. Michonne thinks this could be the start to everythin'." He found himself nodding, still feeling that anxiousness in his gut over a man he'd never even met. "I hope she's right."

"She was right about this place," Carl turned to his dad. "And you know she's got your back."

"Yeah. I know she does." He returned his son's gaze. "I took your advice, Carl. I told her exactly how I feel. And you were right. She feels the same way." Carl smiled slowly, and Rick found himself smiling, too. "This is different. We're a family, now. Thanks to you."

Carl blushed, but insisted: "I just told you what you already knew, Dad."

Rick allowed him his humility and grasped him by the shoulder. They needed to get going. "Grab your stuff. Carol can take care of Jude till we get back."

Carl shook his head. "Nah, I think I'm gonna hang back."

Rick frowned at him. "This is you worryin' about Enid again?"

"Enid's part of it, yeah." Carl was honest with his dad. Then, he looked off again in the direction of Jessie's house, where she and Sam were still on the porch. Jessie held Sam to her front with her arms around his shoulders. "But I wanna stay here and help Sam. I keep thinking about Ron, and Uncle Shane-" Rick frowned hard at the mention of his dead best friend, but said nothing, "-and what you told me the day you gave me my gun." His son's eyes were large, serious, and radiant blue, like his. "Sam just needs someone who believes in him to show him how to do stuff. Ron's gone…" Carl shrugged. "So I should do it."

Rick let all of this sink in, and he felt nothing but immense pride wash over him. He squeezed his son's shoulder again, tenderly this time. There was something so pure and selfless about his boy - his young man, he had to keep reminding himself - that Rick could simply not assign an origin to. He didn't think it came from him, or even Lori. He knew she always wanted their child to remain good, and innocent, no matter what. But the harsh realities of this world had long since warped her hopes. What they had now...what he had...was a young man who carried something like greatness inside him. A capacity for love, compassion, and leadership that was overwhelming. Rick watched Carl for a moment longer, beyond impressed with the maturity in his expression and attitude.

"Besides, someone's gotta stay back, keep this place safe."

Rick nodded, relenting. He had no doubt Carl would do just that. "I'm proud of you, son."

"Thanks, Dad."


"She's beautiful…" Jesus watched Michonne play with Judith, finding that he admired her with every new discovery about her.

She obviously loved Rick's children like they were her own. He imagined the fierce maternal instincts she must possess. He had no doubt that she had saved their lives, even at the risk of her own, countless times. He could also tell that they loved her as fiercely in return. Carl, the young man, looked at her as though she spoke only the truth. And little Judith's eyes lit up whenever Michonne was near.

"Hear that, peanut? Jesus says you're a heartbreaker." Michonne smiled down at the little girl lovingly.

He felt a sharp pang of envy that he might never know what that was like. But he ignored it, and followed her from the kitchen, out onto the front porch. "I can tell you and Rick are trying to build something here," he began as they stepped out into the sun. "Something greater than these walls. A new world. A new way to not just survive - but thrive."

He turned to look at her sideways, his eyes fierce.

"Murdock and I are trying to do the same thing, Michonne. We're on the same side. Do you trust me?"

She gazed at him, balancing Judith, and gave him a barely perceptible nod. He knew then that they were on the same page. He knew he could rely on her to keep Rick and the others engaged. They both wanted the same outcome, he could feel that connection, that silent communication, between them now. With her help, Rick would want the same thing, too. He probably already did. He just needed the right conditions to fully trust it. They would work together to create those conditions.

"You just hold up your end of the bargain," Carol interrupted them, approaching to take Judith from Michonne. "And then we'll see…"

Jesus regarded her for a moment, but didn't reply. The woman who'd made such sweet cookies had cold eyes. Interesting.

"Hey."

They turned to see Rick standing at the foot of the porch, gazing at Jesus, and then Michonne. His eyes lingered on hers as he stood there, his hands buried in the pockets of his dark corduroy traveling jacket.

"You ready?"

Jesus nodded, but Rick was watching Michonne. She was so struck by the fire in his cerulean eyes that she didn't answer him. Suddenly overcome with the need to be close to her, and not giving a damn who was watching, Rick walked up the steps, taking his hands out of his pockets. He sauntered up to her and snaked an arm around her waist, pulling her into him. Jesus stood back and watched, his eyebrows disappearing into his beanie as Rick leaned down and kissed Michonne tenderly - in front of everyone.

Abraham's mouth dropped open and his toothpick fell out. Glenn paused carrying a rucksack full of weapons toward the big, rusty camper to stare at them. Maggie, who was in the kitchen filling water bottles, did a double take at them through the little window above the sink. She smirked.

Carol bounced Judith against her shoulder, shocked (and envious). Daryl and Carl stopped discussing Sam's use of Daryl's old bow long enough to catch the tail end of Rick sucking face with Michonne in full view of the neighborhood.

Rick rolled his tongue around with Michonne's, gripping her and pressing her into him, aware of every pair of eyes on them and not caring. He did it to dissolve the anxious feeling in his gut associated with the mystery man, Murdock. He did it because he was head over heels in love with her, and he could not contain his need, in that moment, to touch her and feel her against him. To let her know with his body that he was a slave to her, doomed to love her and let her intoxicating wind blow him any which way she pleased.

He did it to let everyone know - especially Jesus, and by extension, his boss Murdock - that she was his. He was hers. Finally, and for good.

Michonne smiled against his lips, completely caught off guard at first, but finding herself quickly giving in to him. She could feel the whole group watching them, but Rick was so intense, she stopped caring as she laced her fingers into his thick curls and let him press her body against his. She knew that he was brashly making a point - to her and everyone watching. She found herself not really minding it, as 'Alpha Male' as it was. She did think his brutish tendencies were just as cute as his cowboy drawl and volatile protectiveness.

And, deep down, she wanted them all to know it, too. Even Jesus.

Jesus, for his part, was impressed. And more convinced than ever that Michonne was the key to sealing this deal. Rick finally let Michonne go and stepped back, almost bashfully. She smirked at him, licking her lips. "I guess I'm ready, now…" she said, gracefully descending the porch steps and gliding towards the R.V.

Jesus followed her. Carol shook her head at Rick as he leaned over and kissed his daughter goodbye. "Smooth move, Clint Eastwood," she deadpanned, then softened. "Come back safe."

He forgave her her sarcasm as he picked up his automatic weapon and jogged down the steps to go secure them a better future.

"Hey Rick." Rick turned from watching Michonne to see Abraham sticking a fresh cigar in his mouth, a heavily curious frown folding his bushy red brows down over his eyes. He gestured to Michonne's retreating figure. "You hittin' that?"

Rick paused, unsure how to answer the question at first. He turned back to Michonne, who was now climbing into the R.V. with Jesus and Glenn. He felt pride expand his chest, watching her amazing body climb gracefully into the camper. He nodded to himself, then to Abraham, not attempting to hide the pride in his eyes. Why should he? All that mattered was that they were together, not what anyone else thought of it. Only Carl and eventually Judith had the privilege of making him think twice, and that deal was pretty much sealed. She was the closest thing to a mother they were ever gonna have, and she was his everything, and that was that.

"Yeah." He licked his lips, still nodding.

Abe suddenly broke into an amazed grin. "Well all righty, All Mighty. You have earned my undyin' respect, sir. That is goddamned impressive."

Rick fixed him with a look, but couldn't help a bit of a smirk fighting to bloom.

He started walking, leaving Abe to follow him to the camper.

That big, red, gun-happy bastard was right, though, Rick thought as he hugged his son goodbye and walked around to the driver's side. Michonne was...incredible. The former sheriff realized that pride and possessiveness were emotions he was just gonna have to get used to. He didn't rightfully know what to expect from that, but it certainly beat the hard stuff. He wanted to be with Michonne for the rest of their lives, if he could manage it. It hit him hard, how easy that desire was to accept.

He shook his thoughts away, realizing that he was just standing there, grinning like an idiot. Rick climbed into the camper and saw Michonne waiting for him in the passenger's seat. His heart skipped a beat, and he paused, gazing at her lean, fit body draped across that seat. "Let's go, baby," she said with a smile on her lips.

Rick climbed in and buckled up, turning to wait for Daryl to hop inside and close the back door behind him. "Let's haul ass-fault!" Abe barked enthusiastically, bumping his fist against the door frame in a signal that everyone was in and ready to go.

Rick started her up, taking one last look at his house, his son, and his daughter cradled in Carol's arms on the porch. Then his gaze fell to Michonne. He reached out for her, running his hand along her leg until he laced his fingers in hers. Her fingers returned his embrace as he pulled off and out onto the road, his other hand expertly guiding the wheel as he drove them down the hill towards the gates.

Eugene opened it for them, and Rick drove them out of Alexandria with Michonne's hand still in his.

Behind them, Jesus sat up close, watching.


Nine hours later...

The engine hissed and the wheels snarled as Rick slammed futilely on the gas pedal, trying to get them out of the mud hole they'd found themselves in.

It was his fault. He'd been lost in his thoughts, turning the possibilities of this meeting around in his head, over and over. He'd driven them right into it. Now they were stuck.

"Shit. We're stuck!" He announced, squinting through the windshield against the waning sunlight as he let go of the keys and took his foot off the pedal.

He looked over at Michonne. She was rubbing her eyes of sleep from her nap. After staying awake with him practically the entire way here, she'd finally dozed off about an hour ago. Her face was radiant when she was just waking up, he'd noticed from the last couple of mornings they'd spent together.

"No worries." Jesus touched Rick on the shoulder to get his attention and gestured a gloved hand at the horizon through the windshield. "We're here."

Everyone in the camper looked up through the front windshield at the landscape in front of them. They were sitting at the bottom of a vast, lush green hill. Running along it, there was what looked like a fence made of lumber, sharpened into spikes at the top. The gates were fashioned from even bigger, taller panels of scrap metal than at Alexandria, looming just ahead of them over a deep ridge in the hillside.

They all climbed out and walked through the mud to get a better look. The hillside was huge.

"That's us. That's the Hilltop…" Jesus said, staring up at his home proudly.

Rick turned back to his group, giving them one last signal with his eyes to be on their guard.

Jesus led them up the hill toward the gates.

As they went, they all let their thoughts walk with them. Both Rick and Michonne saw Murdock looming in their minds beyond those gates, but for different reasons. Maggie and Glenn were thinking of the surgeon Michonne had mentioned during the morning meeting (and the ultrasound machine Jesus told them about on the way here). Daryl kept his eyes peeled on the gates, scanning for signs of life. He smelled the air. They had livestock, alright. They were also doing metal work in there, he could smell the coals from the furnace and the unique scent of cooling iron wafting down towards them from the top of the hill. Abraham kept his eyes on his compadres and the gates beyond, his gun propped on his shoulder, held up by in his big hands. He watched Maggie and Glenn walking side-by-side, and Rick and Michonne leading the pack behind Jesus. It was baby-makin' and Love Connection season in Alexandria, apparently. This mission was just an extension of that, he figured. They needed food, they needed allies, sure. But they also needed security with a capital 'S'. That's what he saw in the eyes of his leaders and their women. It was time out for just playing house.

On the one hand he envied Rick and Glenn. On the other, he had come to accept (and even prefer) the notion that he'd have a better chance of hearing the devil fart in hell than settling down in these hellacious times. Rosita crossed his mind. Then...Sasha. Even if settling down was a possibility for him, he didn't deserve either one of them. So he focused on the mission at hand. Time to meet the neighbors.

"Halt!" Someone shouted as they came within a yard or so of the gates. Everyone immediately raised their weapons, and Jesus hastily stepped forward to reassure whoever it was up there on watch.

"Drop your weapons!"

"You g'on come down here and make us?" Daryl growled, his eyes narrowed to slits behind the scope of his automatic weapon.

There were two men perched atop the gates. They were aiming what looked like spears at Rick's group. Jesus spoke to them, looking a bit annoyed but not worried, Rick noticed. "Open the gates, Cal. They're with me."

"Tell them to lay down their weapons." The Cal fellow answered defiantly. Rick shifted on his feet and let his eyes slip over to Jesus, indicating that he didn't have much patience for this. "Then I'll open the gates."

"Yeah, we're waitin' for ya, asshole!" Abraham barked from behind his gun scope.

Jesus sighed hard. "That isn't necessary, guys."

Rick turned back to his group to signal for silence. Their guns remained drawn, but they obeyed him. He focused on Jesus again, his heart pounding, his fight or flight instincts threatening to take over. "Look - we don't take chances anymore. Tell your guy Murdock to come out here."

"Rick." Michonne's voice cut into his resolve. Jesus looked over at her, and reluctantly, so did Rick. She didn't want to have their meeting out here in the mud, Rick could tell instantly. She didn't speak further, but he got the message all the same. He was torn. Hostility slithered through him; he was annoyed with himself for not being able to shake off the anxious feeling in his gut. He didn't want another Terminus...he didn't want another Shane. The fear finally formulated in his mind and he was unable to deny it to himself when he thought of it this bluntly.

"Don't you see what I'm trying to do?" Jesus's urgent voice broke into his thoughts and he turned away from Michonne to face their escort. "I'm letting you keep your guns." The younger man's eyes pierced him with determination and openness. "You have the advantage, here. If you wanna know the truth, what little ammo we had was taken from us months ago."

Rick frowned hard and everyone turned their attention from the spear-wielders at the gates to listen to Jesus. "What d'you mean, it was taken? Who did it?" Rick demanded in a low drawl.

Jesus sighed, his eyes flickering from Rick's to Michonne's. "Murdock will tell you everything. That's why you're here. We're all in this together. We have to trust each other, now. I'm trusting you. So please...trust me."

Rick watched his eyes for any signs of insincerity. He found none. Instead, Jesus looked completely humbled. Rick couldn't put his finger on this guy. He seemed to know exactly what to say, exactly what to do, exactly how to handle any situation he was in. When Rick thought about it, Jesus had been in hostile territory for hours, now. Not once did he come off as anything other than forthright. And now, he was escorting a gang of strangers into his home with an arsenal of automatic weapons, and only spears to protect them. This could all be a set up, but the ex sheriff's instincts told him that these people weren't really a threat.

Trust was a tricky thing, Rick knew. But sometimes you had to gamble with it.

Finally relenting, Rick whistled low and his family lowered their weapons. He shifted on his feet before Jesus to a less defensive stance, lowering his own gun to rest against his hips. "Alright. We'll do it your way."

"Thank you." Jesus breathed, obviously relieved. He turned to raise his eyes sharply to his people atop the rusty scrap metal Kong walls above their heads. "Open the gate. Now."


At first, they all just stood there, taking it all in.

Rick squinted against the light of the setting sun in the distance, his gaze fixed on the large, white plantation-style house sitting atop the steep hill before them. Everyone looked around silently as Jesus trudged a little ways above them and turned back to face the group.

He started explaining their history as he walked backwards, and they all slowly followed him. He told them why they chose this area - specifically, the hill house - where the rows of white mobile homes had come from, what they grew, where they kept their livestock, how many children they had, and on pretty much like that. He was an open book as he slowly led them up the hill path paved in red, clay-like dirt.

Daryl saw that he was right about the metal shop. They had one tucked under a rickety tin roof right in the middle of town. Abe watched the women hanging laundry in front of their FEMA homes, kids running around like they didn't have a sugar-coated care in the word, and nervous-looking chaps walking around carrying spears. He chewed on his cigar, not sure if he was amused, on edge, or felt right at home.

Rick catalogued everything around him and Michonne listened carefully to Jesus.

"I would introduce you to Dr. Corday, but she and some of the others went out with me to scavenge for supplies, and I'm afraid they're - delayed." He told them, his eyes pensive as they came to a stop at the top of the hill, a few paces from the house.

Rick raised an eyebrow, catching wind of the dismay hidden in his expression. "Delayed by what?"

"Should we be sending out a rescue party?" Michonne asked more gently.

Jesus frowned and shook his head. "No, we know where they are. They're not fine, but...they are safe. For now."

Before Rick could question him further, he heard Michonne gasp softly. And as he turned to look at her, he heard a voice from the top of the hill, coming from the house.

"Jesus. You brought guests?"

Jesus let a slow smile spread across his face. He addressed the group in a soft, pleasant voice before answering the man who had called his name. "In the meantime, you may as well meet Murdock."

Rick's eyes were glued to the house as Jesus turned around, giving them all a full view of it now. Standing on the second floor balcony of the sweeping, imposing structure was a tall black man leaning on a cane.

He had called Jesus's name, but Rick could tell that he was staring at their group. Even from that distance, he could sense the man's eyes were on Michonne.

"I brought guests!" Jesus called back.

Rick's heart was thundering in his chest as he gazed up at the man in the balcony, his hands gripping his weapon so tightly his knuckles were going numb. They were going in now, and it was time to meet him, yet he and Michonne were staring at each other, across the distance, as if there was no one else there.

"Well...bring them in." Murdock called, still staring down at them - at Michonne.

Jesus nodded and turned to face them again as Murdock disappeared into the house. "Welcome to Hilltop. Come on in."

Rick exhaled silently, loosening his grip on the rifle in his hands as their tour guide gestured for them to follow him inside.

As Jesus walked ahead of them, he could feel the tension wafting off of Rick in waves. And he could sense the anticipation in Michonne's every move. He was also anxious. Murdock and Michonne hadn't seen each other since long before the tragic end of the world, and Jesus had no idea what they would do when they did. He imagined Rick was thinking this exact same thing - and dreading it. So was Jesus. Though he knew this was the right thing to do, for the sake of this alliance, for their communities, for their survival...part of him wondered if he weren't risking something too precious to achieve it.

Rick watched Michonne follow closely behind Jesus, edging ahead of the group. His feet felt heavier with each step, understanding how powerless she was to stop herself from rushing inside to reunite with her long lost friend. He determined to himself (somewhat futilely) not to do, or even think anything rash. To think with his head, not his ego. To remember why they were here. It wasn't to sooth (or encourage) his insecurity. He had to put their future firmly in the forefront of his mind and keep it the fuck in his pants. For his community. For Michonne.

Michonne knew that Rick was on edge, and it made her heart sink, but the sight of Murdock standing on that balcony had sparked an emotion so powerful it propelled her forward - she had to follow it.

He was alive! So many memories, so many years they shared together. She wasn't just walking briskly up a red clay hill toward Murdock, she was running back to her old self. Her past. Something she had buried so deeply, she hadn't realized how traumatized she'd been. She was already fighting off tears as she followed Jesus in through the large entrance of the house.

"Good gracious, Ignatius…" Abe muttered in awe behind them as they made their way over the threshold into the grand foyer.

It was huge, and breathtaking inside.

It was like they'd traveled back in time, to some bygone era. The paintings on the looming walls, the ancient drapes adorning the tall windows, the hard, thick wood everything was carved out of, even the smell of the place was teeming with centuries of history. It was fitting for the occasion.

Rick was momentarily distracted from his fixation on Michonne by the scale of the place, and he found himself peering around with the others. Michonne was watching the grand staircase in front of them as Jesus closed the doors behind them and took off his jacket and gloves. He walked around to the front of the group, explaining that there were six bedrooms, plus 'servants quarters', a stable, a grand dining room and a library.

It was only the first room of the house, but Daryl felt like a bug on a big ass windshield looking around the huge, pristinely-kept space. Maggie fell in love with how old and elegant everything was (she felt dirty and clunky walking through the enormous, gorgeous foyer), while Glenn was mildly impressed with how spotless everything looked. Abe thought whoever lived here had it pretty peachy fuckin' keen.

There was movement at the top of the stairs, and everyone looked upward to see Murdock emerging from the hallway, walking steadily with the aid of his cane.

Rick took him in, head to feet. He was maybe six-two, lean and dark-skinned. His eyes were deep, wise, and crinkled at the edges. The rest of his skin was as smooth as Michonne's, and if it hadn't been for the wisps of gray in his otherwise jet black hair, Rick wouldn't be able to guess how old he was. He was clean-shaven, dressed in jeans, boots, and a black, long-sleeved henley shirt - and he was still staring at Michonne.

Jesus was about to introduce everyone, but he stopped, watching with the rest of them.

Rick's eyes slid from Murdock as he descended the stairs slowly, to Michonne as she watched him coming. Her eyes were glistening, though she hadn't shed any tears. She was biting her lip, shaking her head slightly, fighting off a huge smile. Rick lost his breath and turned his gaze back to Murdock, who had made it to the landing and was walking toward her, his face full of pure wonder and intense sadness.

"Michonne...?" He said her name, and Rick knew what was going to happen just by the sound of it. He froze in place, unwilling to trust his body right then as he waited for the inevitable sound of the happiness in Michonne's voice.

"Murdock!"

Then the tall man opened his arms, and scooped Michonne into a long, tender embrace. Rick watched, experiencing the strange mixture of gratitude to hear her sound so happy for the first time since he'd known her, and the dull ache of jealousy beginning to pound in his chest.

It had nothing to do with the way Murdock's arms were wrapped securely around Michonne's slender body as he spun her around and squeezed her tight. It had nothing to do with how her shoulders and back shook with silent sobs as she held him back, or how incredibly intimate the sound of her name was in that man's voice.

Those things made Rick so angry he wanted to punch a hole in the wall, but those things had nothing to do with his jealousy.

There was history there. Rick felt it like a gut punch as he watched them reunite. There was so much history in Murdock's voice, and Michonne's. He knew her - knew her in ways Rick had never known her, and might never get to. Knew her before the walkers, before they all became killers, before the Governor, before Andre. Rick was sick with jealousy as he shifted on his feet and clutched his gun to his stomach, watching Murdock lower Michonne to the floor again.

She bent forward, wracked with emotion, and wiped the tears from her face. "Oh man…" she breathed, standing up straight again to smile up at him. "You're a sight for sore eyes, you know that?"

"I can't believe you, girl," Murdock whispered in awe, reaching up to brush a single tear from her skin. Rick clenched his jaw, staring. "Of course...of course you survived!"

They laughed some more, both their smiles weighed with sadness. There was so much she had to tell him. So much he didn't know. She felt like everything was piling up in her throat, waiting to spill forth. She found she couldn't wait to just talk to him, like they used to. He felt exactly the same.

Michonne became lost in his dark, wise eyes. She remembered looking into those eyes over and over again growing up. The face around them changed gradually over the years, but they never did. Murdock's had been the best friendship of her life. When it was over, she mourned it like it was death. Until it became death. And then she simply let it go and blocked it out. But now it was back, and it was visceral, all at the behest of those eyes of his.

Eyes that were totally unlike the cerulean fire of the man standing behind her, his silence as palpable as the tight embrace her old friend had just given her.

"I had help…" she said quietly, stepping back from Murdock and turning to Rick.

His expression was unreadable but his stance was rigid, tense. And while everyone else was watching Murdock and Michonne, Daryl was watching Rick. A sure sign that they should move on.

"Murdock, this is Rick Grimes," Jesus began, gesturing to Rick as he walked towards the landing to join them. "These are his people - they're from Alexandria, it's close to where Lizzy and I were scavenging."

Jesus went around the group calling out names. One by one Murdock acknowledged Maggie, Glenn, Abraham, and Daryl.

Murdock and Rick met each other's gazes. Michonne stood between them, trying to let her relief and happiness from being reunited with someone special to her rub off on Rick. Murdock's gaze was benign, but to Michonne it was like old times. He had an ability to understand what page he was on with anybody almost instantly, just by looking in their eyes and reading their body language. That's how they became such good friends. Why they eventually became a couple. Why they inevitably drifted apart.

But he was a charming dude back in the day, even as a kid. Everyone in their neighborhood loved him, respected him, had high hopes for him. When they dated, they were like celebrities among their friends and family. Murdock put people at ease, or stood his ground, based on his respect for a person's personal space, their time, and above all, their mindset.

And right away, he could see that Rick Grimes was not in a good mood.

"Good to meet you, Rick." Murdock said cordially.

Rick nodded, adjusting his gun slightly in his arms. His fiery blue eyes were sparkling and his jaw was clenched, but he managed what could be considered a polite smile. "Good to meet you, too, Murdock." He glanced back at Jesus, frowning, unable to look at Michonne just yet. "Jesus tells us you wanna form an alliance against a common enemy. That you need weapons, and fighters." He turned back to the 'sight for sore eyes' and shrugged. "We came to offer our services."

"They check out, Murdock." Jesus spoke up, his gaze beseeching. "I spent time with them, they took me in, they're good people. They're Michonne's people." He looked across to Michonne, and so did Murdock.

She nodded, gazing at Murdock happily. "Rick saved my life. They all did. I've been with them for a while, now. He is exactly the man you need."

Looking at her, Murdock felt like a freight train had run him over. She was alive, and just as beautiful as he remembered her. If this had happened during those long months when he had lost his mind, he might not think she was real. Or he might think she was a ghost. His little beanpole, 'Chonne was here. Standing right here, in front of him, coming to answer his call for help. He had long since stopped believing in God, but there was no other thing he could think to call this - it felt like a goddamned miracle.

"Then I'm grateful to you, Rick." The tall, handsome man stepped forward, leaning on his cane, and offered Rick his free hand. Rick lowered his gun and took it. His grip was equally firm as they shook once. "Thank you. For bringing 'Chonne back into my life."

"That was all Jesus," Rick replied, dipping his head and stepping back. His eyes rose to Michonne, whose radiant skin was still damp from her tears. "He called it…" He told himself he was just getting down to business before he spoke next. He knew deep down, however, as he turned his gaze back to Murdock, that he could've just as easily been more gracious if he chose to. But looking around at all this opulence, then watching this man scoop his woman up and call her 'Chonne before gettin' the gumption to say 'Thank you' had pushed Rick as close to the edge as he was willing to go. He found himself needing to send the message. "You see, we need things, too. Michonne said you could help us. We came all this way for food - we're gonna get it."

Murdock regarded him for a moment, assessing. The man was a killer, of that he was certain. But there was something in his blue eyes, other than cold steel and blunt intent, that told Murdock he could be exactly the man they needed. The tall leader of the Hilltop turned to his right hand man, his trusted advisor.

Jesus nodded, offering a tiny smirk at Rick's gruffness. "I gave them my word we'd work something out. And I'm convinced we will."

If Jesus was this convinced, Murdock had to consider it. They desperately needed a solution to their looming, and increasingly sinister problem. Rick Grimes looked like he specialized in solutions.

"You are usually right…" he replied to his partner, causing a knowing smile to grace the younger man's beard. Murdock sighed and turned to face the armed, wary group led by the man in the corduroy jacket who'd saved 'Chonne's life. He leaned on his cane, smiling at them gratefully, openly. "I'm glad that you've come. Jesus is right, we do need help. Pretty desperately, actually. And we do have food." He looked at Rick. Then at Glenn. "And a doctor." Then Daryl. "And other things we'd be willing to trade."

Now he turned his eyes back to his Michonne. He still could not believe she was here, so alive, and so beautiful. "This is no accident of fate, 'Chonne, you comin' back to me like this. When you and your people are here, they're like family. Hilltop is at your disposal. You can have whatever you need."

"Well, we're obliged," Rick spoke up, somewhat suspiciously, before Michonne could. "But we're not askin' much, we just need enough to get Maggie started growin' our own."

Maggie and Glenn exchanged looks, wondering what the hell Rick was doing. He was suddenly in a rush, and it was not going to get them what they needed.

Michonne could sense Rick's fight or flight mode rising up in him. He held his gun loosely in one hand but his body language was still tense. He was sparring with Murdock already without even realizing it. He was wound up, and she knew exactly why. Murdock was being gracious, but Michonne could sense from both him and Jesus that the situation was much bigger than Rick would be able to settle in the man's foyer before making a beeline back to Alexandria.

She decided to do the one thing she'd promised him - the only thing that could ease his anxiousness and bring him back to himself. She stepped toward him and settled in next to him, sliding her hand in his and squeezing. She would stay close to him now, like he'd asked.

Rick instantly relaxed, his strong, warm fingers slipping further into hers until they were clasping hands palm-to-palm. Jesus couldn't help a smile to himself as Murdock observed them thoughtfully. The source of much of the tension in the man was immediately apparent to him, now (as was Jesus's amusement beside him). Leave it to 'Chonne to be drawn to the Alpha of the group. Murdock knew that old feeling of watching some other guy benefit from Michonne's radiant attention. He decided to cut Rick Grimes some slack. Hilltop did need him, and there was no way in hell its leader was going to let Michonne walk out of his life again.

"I'll tell you what - you all look exhausted. And hungry." He smiled and gestured to the house at large. "Please make yourselves at home. Freshen up, rest. Jesus will let you into a few of the rooms upstairs to use as long as you'd like."

"We won't stay long…" Rick started, gesturing with Michonne's hand still in his. "We don't want to take up too much of your time."

"Rick?" Murdock stepped forward, coming to a halt right in front of him and Michonne. He was taller than them both, but his body language was almost humble. Open. He had nothing to hide and no one else to turn to. He sighed. "This won't be some back woods deal we make on a handshake and some dubious feelings. There's a lot to explain. If we form this alliance, you need to be aware of exactly what we're up against. And for that, we at least need some dinner and a stiff drink."

"Well, I am RSVP'ing hell yes to that, sir."

Abraham spoke up from the back, breaking the tension. Rick rolled his eyes at Abe but he didn't turn from Murdock. He still wanted to resist - he wanted to strike terms for a trade right now and not stay one minute longer in this big ass house, but he wasn't going to get that and he knew it. Murdock wasn't an idiot, Rick could tell, so there no reason for him to be one out of some fantasy of spite.

"Besides, me and 'Chonne still got some catching up to do." Murdock added, gazing at Michonne with all that history in his eyes again.

She smiled softly. "You're damned right, we do."

Her answer had sealed the deal. They were staying. Rick refused to let go of her hand as he finally gave in, nodding and standing up straight. This was important to her; it was important for them all.

"Then it's settled. Six more for dinner." Jesus spoke, and they all gratefully turned to him. "Come on - I'll show you guys to your rooms."

"I'll see you all down here in about an hour." Murdock stepped back and allowed the group to slowly follow Jesus up the grand, winding main staircase to the rest of the house.

He watched Rick and Michonne climb, hand-in-hand. Rick ushered her up ahead of him, letting her go to rest his palm against her back as they disappeared up the stairs. Michonne had definitely chosen against her type, at least as far he remembered. It wasn't that Rick was white, or that he was rough around the edges - it was that he seemed exactly the opposite of everything the Michonne Murdock remember had been. This was how things changed. How his old friend had changed. He wondered what awful hell she'd survived to drive her into the arms of a man like Rick Grimes.

He'd find out soon enough.

As they walked up the stairs and into the hallway, following Jesus, Rick turned to Maggie.

"You should talk to him, work out the deal on our behalf."

Maggie's head snapped toward him, her brow furrowed in surprise. She glanced at Michonne's back and then to Rick's face again. "Why me…?"

Her world-weary mentor sniffed hard, staring at Jesus and Michonne as he adjusted his gun on his hip again. "I shouldn't."

He left it at that, but Maggie caught his meaning loud and clear.


Jesus got everyone settled, set aside his jacket, vest, hat, and gloves - and headed for Murdock's study.

As was the usual, Murdock was staring out of the large windows behind his desk, watching the comings and goings on the hill. He didn't turn as Jesus slipped inside and closed the door behind him. They stood on opposite sides of the room, Murdock's gaze fixed on the scene below him, his right hand man's gaze fixed on him.

Jesus narrowed his eyes at the sight of Murdock's cane, and how the six-foot-two, broad-shouldered man had to lean against it for balance these days. He had purposefully withheld this information from Michonne. He didn't think it was his place to tell that story. That was a story for later, when they would talk to the Alexandrians for real. About the death and danger they were about to conjure with their alliance.

"How's the leg?" He asked casually, watching Murdock's still figure against the soft glare of the setting sun.

Murdock chuckled. "Same as usual. Hurts and weighs me down."

Jesus smiled, lowering his gaze at the sound of Murdock's deep, kind voice. It had been his voice that initially convinced Jesus he was someone to follow. When he spoke, people listened to him. His eyes were shrewd, yet unassuming. He was a tall man, but he always gave you your space. Until he didn't.

"How did you find Michonne, Jesus? My Michonne?" Murdock asked, his voice heavy with wonder, as he turned around to face his right hand man. "Where'd she come from?"

Jesus sighed, stepping slowly into the room and coming to perch on the edge of Murdock's large, mahogany desk as the other man walked around to face him. He decided to start at the beginning, because he needed to and because getting into the subject of Michonne would force him to admit to feelings he wasn't prepared to examine yet. Murdock had a way with people - it was how he knew Jesus was so highly empathetic and perceptive, why he became their leader so quickly - and he would be able to tell the truth in the younger man's eyes as soon as he spoke.

"We got caught out in the open by some Saviors…" he began. Murdock frowned hard, but he nodded for Jesus to continue. "Lizzy and the others...they were forced to go with them, to treat some of their injured. They didn't see me, so I got left behind."

"That was the last you saw of them?" Murdock's heart sank as he stared into Jesus's glowing blue eyes. The twenty-something-year-old ran a hand through his golden hair and nodded.

"I ran into two of Rick's people. They knocked me out because I stole their truck."

Murdock couldn't help a grunt of amusement. Jesus was a wily one. More than just smart, and quick on his feet - he was an escape artist and a thief and a snake charmer. His talent had saved them, more than once. Murdock was grateful to have someone like Jesus at his side.

Fighting off a cocky smirk, Jesus went on. "They could've left me to die, but they took me in. Brought me to their community. Alexandria. I watched them. It's...impressive, 'Doc. There's nothing like it."

"That's where you found Michonne." Murdock whispered, his dark eyes probing.

Jesus nodded. "Yes." He smiled softly, knowing that Murdock was listening very carefully now. "She was in the last house I visited. She lives with Rick, his son, and baby daughter. I knew it was her the moment Rick said her name."

"She lives with Rick, eh?"

"Yes...with Rick." Jesus just had to know what he was thinking. Murdock rubbed his chin, his smile developing into a faint smirk. The two of them shared amused silence for a beat, and then neither could help laughing in earnest at the memory of the scene in the foyer a short while ago. "He is an intense man." Jesus laughed, his shoulders shaking as he chuckled with empathy for poor Michonne's predicament.

"And yet you think he's the guy to help get us out of this?" Murdock asked seriously, probing again.

"You should've seen what he's doing there, Murdock." Jesus said in answer, his voice just as serious. "The defenses he's implemented - I've never seen anything like it. It's ingenious. It's...slapdash and held together with scrap metal and a lot of blood and sweat, but it will hold. He's thought of everything. His tactical mind is nothing to scoff at."

Murdock considered him, thinking hard about what that could mean for them. Jesus was no fool, and when he was sure of something that usually meant he had left no stone unturned. If he said that Rick Grimes was a desperately needed asset, then that was the truth. "Is he military?" Murdock guessed, pacing slowly on his cane.

Jesus thought for a second, but shook his head. "I don't think so."

Murdock changed his mind. "Hm...ex cop, maybe."

Thinking about Rick's general demeanor and physical prowess, Jesus could definitely picture it. "It would explain a lot."

His leader did scoff this time, thinking of Michonne. It would certainly explain how they ended up together. It was ironic, Michonne the defense attorney ending up with a cop. But of course she survived. Of course she fought like hell, and of course she found someone who was on her level, someone she could build things with. The Michonne Murdock knew was not someone who would wait around to die, or wait for someone else to save her. She found a way, always, so save herself. To save anyone who needed it.

Well now, Murdock needed saving. From the Saviors.

"You happy to see her?" Jesus asked quietly, watching Murdock carefully. He couldn't stop himself.

The tall, unfairly handsome man raised his dark eyes to meet his bright ones, and he knew instantly that the jig was up. He could never hide his feelings from Murdock. It was why they trusted each other so implicitly. Why they had become partners, leaders, and lovers.

Murdock took a deep breath, not wishing to hide from Jesus either. "Words can't describe."

Jesus nodded, a small crease appearing in his brow. "She is exactly the way you described her. Beautiful. Compassionate. Strong. I can see why you're in love with her."

He had not misspoken. He watched, carefully, his heart pounding. Murdock stood up straight, his smooth face settling into wistful sadness. "I was in love with her, a long time ago. You know that, Jesus."

"I know…" Jesus faltered, his eyes flickering to the hardwood floor. "And now that you know she's alive? Right here, in this house?"

Murdock couldn't help shaking his head, a smile gracing his lips. Jesus was young, he always forgot. He was wise beyond his years and one of the most selfless people Murdock had ever met, but he could still be a twenty-something-year-old diva when the situation called for it.

"It'll sound strange," he opted to say instead of answering his young lover's question directly, "but now I see my old self when I look at her. That's something I never thought I'd see - or be - again."

Jesus was staring at him, unsure of what he was trying to communicate.

"I want to talk to her. For hours, like we used to. I want to find out everything."

Murdock could see the stoic acceptance in those blue eyes of his, and he stepped forward, moving closer than they'd been since the night before Jesus left. Instantly, Jesus felt himself responding to Murdock's proximity. He breathed deeply, his eyes latched onto his tall, smooth-skinned counterpart's. Though he still leaned on his cane, Murdock was now standing directly over Jesus, who remained leaning against the big wooden desk. Jesus lifted his head up to meet the big man's gaze, leaning back slightly but not backing down. Murdock reached up with his free hand and stroked his beard, then his cheek.

"That's just words, Jesus. Stories. Maybe some laughter, some tears. Maybe some peace. That's all I want."

"But, part of her is still yours...and part of you is still hers…" Jesus whispered, still insistent, to his detriment, as always with this man.

Murdock knew what he needed, so he obliged. He leaned forward and kissed Jesus intensely, silencing him. Jesus responded, his lips pulling on Murdock's, reaching up to stroke his smooth face. When they stopped, Murdock remained leaning over Jesus as the younger man's eyes closed. The kid was gorgeous, so kind, and so strong. Everyone who met him fell in love with him in some way.

"And you're part of me, too. The part of me that exists, now, in this world. That is not changing."

"You'll behave yourself at dinner, then…?" Jesus breathed, overcome with desire, angling his face upward for another kiss. Murdock obliged again, laughing at first, then returning the gentle tugging of his lips with fervor.

"Will you?" He countered, nudging Jesus with a push of his chin against the young man's soft beard, taking another kiss.

Jesus smirked against Murdock's lips. "I always do. Anyway - it's not me you should worry about."

Murdock lifted his head, now thinking of Rick Grimes. He stroked Jesus's hair, then turned to sit next to him against the desk. "And you're sure we can trust this guy?"

"Do you trust Michonne?"

Murdock looked up at him. The sun was setting, the light was rapidly dimming. Yet Jesus had eyes that were illuminated from within. There was no choice, with him. Murdock simply fell in love with him. He could not trace it, or place it, or define it, or question it. He was a son, and a brother, and a lover, and a friend, and a protege all in one. Their relationship was beyond definition. Sex was part of it, but there was so much more. He couldn't wait to share that with Michonne.

He nodded resolutely, reaching over to take Jesus by the hand. "If she's still the same Michonne I knew, I'd trust her with my life."

"Then trust Rick. I told you, I watched them. There's nothing he wouldn't do for her."

It was settled, then. They would try to convince Rick and Michonne to help them. Yes, Murdock had been telling the truth. He wanted Michonne's words, their friendship, some semblance of the way things used to be. But he needed her sword. And Rick's tactical, brutal mind.

In this world, love, loyalty, and fear might save them all.


Jesus had shown Rick and Michonne to a room at the end of a long hallway.

It was big, with a balcony and large windows, a fireplace and a canopy bed. It appeared to be the master bedroom, at least one that belonged to the original master of the house.

Rick concentrated on looking around, unable to hold still, unable to look at her, or to quell his mounting insecurity. Despite the deal he'd made with himself before walking into this place, something like a thousand questions were running through his head - about Murdock, about her feelings for him, about this so-called alliance, about where they stood, about if she was mad at him for letting his jealousy show. But he couldn't voice any of it. All he could do was pace around the room, examining this or that, taking off his jacket, putting down his gun, running a hand through his thick hair, anything but turn to face Michonne.

Michonne watched him, pretending to look around herself, but she could feel the tension wafting off of him like heat waves on a humid day.

He was brooding, disappearing into his thoughts, avoiding looking at her.

She could tell that he wanted to grill her about Murdock. She could also tell that he wasn't happy with himself for the way he behaved. She knew that Rick needed reassurance, and she was going to give it to him. He didn't have to ask. He would never have to, when it came to how she felt about him.

"I met him when I was seven," she began, sitting on the bed and looking down at her nails. A wistful smile developed on her thick lips. "We lived in Houston. In this shitty apartment complex. The slums."

Rick finally came to a stop by the bed, leaning on air, his jaw clenched and his chest muscles flexing under his white tee-shirt. He gazed down at her, listening carefully, waiting. She knew what he needed, he realized. She was trying to let him in on some of the history that he envied Murdock.

"Both children of immigrants, both total smartasses - we even had the same bike." She scoffed, the pleasant memories of growing up with her friend Murdock running through her mind's eye. "He's like a brother to me."

"Never more than that?" He couldn't stop himself from asking raspily.

She looked up at him, and his eyes changed blues under the rapidly descending light of dusk.

"When we were teenagers. Yeah, we fell in love," Michonne answered honestly, and he tried to hide the blow to the gut that her words conjured. He sank down to the floor, kneeling before her, lifting his head of brown, slicked back curls until he caught her eyes again. "But he wanted to be a free agent, and I wanted to make a difference. I went to law school and he went wherever he pleased." She reassured him firmly, reaching down to lace her fingers in those curls. Rick gazed up at her silently, his hands finding their way to her legs. "We drifted apart...I met Andre's father…"

Michonne fought off the emotion that came crashing through her with the memories as she tried to paint as clear a picture of her feelings for Murdock as she could for Rick.

"With us, everything worked...and yet nothing ever did." Thinking about how young they were, and how adulthood claimed them both in such different ways made Michonne yearn to get to know the man Murdock had become now that the world had ended even more. "But I think it could, now."

Rick frowned, trying to understand what she was telling him.

He was still jealous. It was almost endearing. She suddenly needed to be closer to him, to feel his physical intensity while she explained herself. Michonne tugged on his tee-shirt, pulling him gently to his feet and then onto the bed on top of her.

Rick immediately settled in between her legs, leaning down to brush his lips against hers, his weight feeling intoxicatingly secure. Michonne breathed in his scent and stared into his shining eyes, reaching up to trace the frown lines in his ruggedly handsome face with her fingers.

"We're here for a reason, Rick." She gazed up at him, and he down to her, as the sun set across the windows, bathing the room in rose-tinted light. "Don't you feel it? We have a purpose, so does Jesus, and so does Murdock. We need him, but he definitely needs us. This is our advantage, baby. This is how we get this done. For us."

Rick nodded, but remained silent. Michonne scratched his chin with her finger. She knew what he was waiting to hear.

"Yes, I care about Murdock," she whispered, looking so beautiful underneath him in the ethereal light of dusk. "I...missed him...more than I even realized until Jesus said his name."

Rick's eyes flickered up and down at her as he listened, allowing her to stroke the curls at the nape of his neck now.

"But there's only one man that I'll follow to the end of everything, Rick Grimes." Rick melted at the sound of her sweet, sexy voice, feeling himself go hard as soon as she uttered his name. He huffed out a breath as she leaned up to claim his lips.

Rick kissed her fiercely, pushing her down into the bed as both sets of her fingers laced into his hair. She clung to him as he moved his passionate kisses from her mouth to her neck, wrapping her legs around him and arching her back so that she could better feel the pressure of his thick erection straining against his jeans.

"Mmm…you're the only man I'm in love with..." She moaned as he grinded himself into her, sucking on her neck with his steamy mouth. "I'm yours!"

Rick kissed Michonne into the mattress, his hard cock twitching between her legs, his chest full of desire and regret. He knew she was his. Of course he did. Their bond was too strong to doubt after one meeting.

No, he hadn't been shaken so badly by Murdock's good looks or even their already intimate rapport with each other. It was the history Rick was jealous of. The brief glimpses he'd been given of Michonne's old life today alone weighed him down with longing. Rick wanted to know everything - but Murdock already did. When Rick pictured young, vivacious, beautiful Michonne, and what it must've been like to know her before all this blood, death and brutality...he found himself so fiercely jealous of Murdock that it took him totally off guard.

The Michonne she was today was so goddamned enthralling, so strong and awe-inspiring. What she'd brought into his bleak, grim life at the prison had saved him. He knew he would have lost his mind - and with it, his ability to protect his family, the prison, and everything else - if it hadn't been for Michonne.

The thought of never meeting her hurt him to his core. The thought of her running into Murdock before they ever met, and becoming his savior instead...it drove Rick crazy. He couldn't shake it. So he kissed her. Kissed her for the last two nights, for the here and now, for their future. Kissed her to keep them firmly rooted in each other, and not his short-sighted insecurities.

She could sense how badly that reality had shaken him, though she couldn't verbalize exactly what electric current was rumbling through his strong body as he pressed himself into her. She knew it was unruly, and he was trying to tame it, or feed it, in her arms. She opened herself up to him physically, arching her back to push her breasts into him, widening her legs so that he could press her against him as close as possible with the barrier of their traveling clothes.

Rick tried to chase the dull ache of jealousy away as he reached up and gently clasped his hand around Michonne's throat, pushing his tongue into her mouth slowly, deeply. She whimpered and reached under his tee-shirt to run her smooth hands down his back, sinking them into his jeans to grasp his taut ass.

Their bodies grinded against each other with the rhythmic, overwhelming intent to fuck as they kissed and groaned quietly on the bed. Their intense need for each other pushed and pulled at them in tandem, gluing them together like magnets. Rick was hard, and desperate, and on the verge of ripping off her pants. Michonne was getting wetter and wetter, and she wanted to feel his lips and tongue around her hardened nipples so badly they ached, trapped inside her tanktop and bra.

"I need to be inside you, baby..." her old man issued a hushed grunt against her lips. "Please." He bucked into her, squeezing her thighs in his big hands.

Overcome with need, Michonne nodded sluggishly, reaching down to palm his erection. The feel of her slender fingers caressing his thick length through his jeans made Rick buckle over. He buried his face into her neck and crushed his eyes shut as she stroked him more intensely. She fingered his head through the black denim, driving him over the edge.

Rick sat up abruptly and pulled her sharply into him with a rough tug of her thighs. His pulsing bulge landed right against her center, and it was so hard Michonne had to bite her lip as the sheer anticipation of having him finally push into her sex washed over her. He was going to fill her to the brim - she felt the echoes of his stroke game reverberate through her with that one possessive tug that landed her ass against his pelvis.

There was a soft, but insistent knock on the bedroom door.

They froze, remembering that they were supposed to be 'freshening up for dinner'.

The knock came again and then a familiar, benign voice: "It's Jesus. I brought gifts."

Rick raised an eyebrow at Michonne for the word 'gifts' but reluctantly climbed off of the bed. He took a deep breath and tried to tame his arousal before he walked over to open the door. He waited for Michonne to sit up and straighten her clothes before he did, keeping himself angled behind it in case Jesus had an inkling to look down.

Always highly perceptive of the energy in whatever environment he was entering, the slender, graceful man did not cross the threshold. A faint, knowing smirk touched the corners of his lips as his eyes catalogued first Michonne's unmistakable glow and hard breathing, then Rick's disheveled curls and flushed lips. He did not dare look down past Rick's torso.

So they'd made up - or were still in the process. Good.

Deciding not to take up too much of their time, Jesus held out the clothing he'd brought them. Rick eyed the dress, shirt, and jacket being offered to him, frowning. "Murdock will swear up and down that you're wearing this because he knows your tastes," Jesus addressed Michonne, a hint of sarcasm in his voice. "But between you and me, I picked this dress out for you. And something for you too, Rick. For all of you. Murdock likes dinner to really feel like dinner in this house."

They both stared at him. He looked from one to the other, still holding out the garments from the piles and piles of clothes they'd collected on their runs. He sighed, deciding to explain himself.

"I can see how creepy this looks," he passed the clothes off to Rick, ran a hand through his blond hair, and folded his arms across his chest. Michonne thought he looked much younger when he wasn't swathed in all that leather. "We sort of hoard these things. Or at least - we did. The intent was to bring more people in, from anywhere we could find them, feed them, clothe them if they needed it, integrate them into the community, keep growing. But we've been...indefinitely delayed. Ever since…"

"Ever since what?" Rick forgot his arousal, holding the clothes to his body and hanging on Jesus's words.

Jesus regarded them both seriously. "Ever since the reason I brought you here stopped us. Get dressed. We have a lot to discuss."

He left them with that, and Rick slowly closed the door again, turning to face Michonne.

"You're right. They need us."

She nodded slowly. They lingered there, staring at each other, silently agreeing to get to the bottom of the the dark cloud looming over the Hilltop. Michonne rose to her feet as Rick finally looked down to examine the clothes Jesus had picked out. "Why the spectacle, I wonder…?" she asked as she eyed the long, flowy, floral green dress on the hanger in his hands.

"I dunno. Maybe to make us comfortable. Ease us into whatever it is they want from us." Rick shrugged, his eyes glinting with bitter amusement. "Murdock 'knows your tastes', though. Gotta hand it to 'im. He's smooth."

His amusement was bitter because he was still lingering on the past. He couldn't help wondering, despite knowing how useless it was, what his life would've been like if he had met Michonne long before this reality rose up to claim them. Part of him pictured her as a defense lawyer, sexy and intimidating and so out of his league he probably would never have worked up the gumption to make any moves on her.

But if they did, and he had, and it was Michonne he'd been with when he woke up in that hospital bed...

He wouldn't give up Carl for anything, and never Judith now that he had her. But the fantasy of meeting Michonne while he was divorcing Lori, of having even just a year or two with her while slogging through all the drama his ex wife put him through, was so palpable it was hard to shake.

Michonne brought him back to the present, stepping up to him and leaning her forehead against his. "Hey. Where'd you go?"

Rick shook his head and exhaled slowly. "I'm here."

She smiled, remembering something he'd said to her the morning before. "'With a vengeance?'"

Just as she'd hoped, he chuckled raspily at her attempt to mimic his voice and drawl. Rick nodded and snaked an arm around her waist, pulling her into his side to nuzzle his mouth and chin along the soft skin of her neck. "With a vengeance…" he growled, kissing her, squeezing her, growing hard for her again.

"Good. Let's get dressed, cowboy. I'm hungry."

He was hungry for her, but he relented as she reached for the dress in his other hand. Michonne held it up, looking at it fully for the first time since Jesus appeared with it. It was a summer dress, but it was elegant. It had spaghetti straps and a long flowing skirt. The base color was dark green, but the pattern adorning it was of gorgeous white and pink flowers that formed vines and clusters across the fabric. It was beautiful. And it was definitely something she would pick out for herself, way back when picking out something to wear for dinner was a thing people actually did.

By the time they'd cleaned themselves up and gotten dressed, the sun had gone down and the burgeoning sounds of nightfall wafted into the room through the open windows.

Rick emerged from the master bathroom attached to their room, wearing the crisp grey button-down shirt and ash-colored dinner jacket Jesus had given him. His hair was combed back and slicked down, the signs of a five o'clock shadow only making him look more handsome and rugged as he stood awkwardly in the bathroom doorway, his eyes shining.

Michonne looked absolutely breathtaking. She wore her dreads up out of her face, secured to the top of her head with loose locs she'd wrapped around a pile of them, just like the night before.

This dress was even sexier than the one she wore the night they made love for the first time. In a completely different way.

It fell across her body like a waterfall, but somehow managed to cling to all the curves that drove him crazy on the way down. Her breasts fit perfectly into the low-cut top of the dress, the slinky straps looking delectable enough to pull off of her shoulders with his teeth. And he knew he would before the night was over. He wanted to right now, in fact, but they had work to do.

They came to meet in the middle of the room, staring at each other up and down, breathing each other in.

Rick took a deep breath, centering himself in her scent and glowing skin as he wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled.

Michonne came to him willingly, observing the crease in his brow as his gorgeous eyes rose to meet hers.

He needed to feel their connection again, physically, before they went down there to negotiate an unknown future. Their community needed food, and numbers, and sustainability. Murdock offered them that, at a price they could only guess with what little information they had. The need for weapons was not a good sign. After this point, there was no turning back. The new world was just beyond that bedroom door. Before they walked through it, Rick needed to know again, deep down in his bones, that nothing would come between them.

For her part, Michonne tried to think of something - anything she could do or say - to reassure him one last time. An idea popped into her head, and she smiled against his lips. Rick frowned and watched as she reached up to remove her ever-present gold 'M' charm necklace, which she was wearing underneath a necklace she'd found in the vanity area of this room. Giving him a cool, but meaningful look, his best friend and lover wrapped the delicate gold necklace around his wrist, above his watch. He watched her clasp it and tuck the little 'M' underneath the wristband of the watch, where he could feel the cool metal on his warm skin, a reminder that she was with him, through everything, no matter what shit storm befell them.

It was hidden from view, but he could feel it. Just between the two of them, yet stronger and more real than words. It was perfect. Satisfied, Michonne kissed his lips and stepped back.

"Let's eat."

He took her hand and led her to the door. They decided, without words, to stick close together through dinner, and whatever negotiations would take place after. To send a message to Murdock, and Jesus - and everyone.

Rick and Michonne were a fuckin' fortress. The new world had better beware.