Rick sat in the faded, blue rolling chair that Michonne usually claimed, his boots propped up on the aging metal desk as he flipped through some papers that Maggie had presented him with on arrival. The campaign headquarters was set up in an empty office space downtown that the owner had rented to Rick for half the usual price in a show of support when he'd announced he was running. It came with two cubicles that they had made into one command center by removing the dividing panel and Maggie was currently perched on top of the matching desk, swinging her feet while Rick perused the latest numbers.

"It's not even close anymore," Rick said, scanning the end of the month poll numbers that were separated by demographic, and then again by precinct.

"You're definitely pulling ahead," Maggie replied, not as eager to wave the victory flag just yet. "September was a good month, but there's four weeks left to go; still time for an October surprise."

Rick chuckled at her jargon, tossing the pages onto the desk. "It's King County, Maggie, not the White House. Not a lot of surprises around here." As soon as he said it, he remembered the worst surprise of his life had slipped right under his nose in this very place and he sat back in the chair, furrowing his brow.

Maggie followed his train of thought as it played out on his face and she decided to switch gears. Working directly with Rick over the last couple weeks was proving a little more challenging than teaming with Michonne on his behalf, but they'd been friends a long time and she could read him almost as well as his wife.

"So you guys are getting close?" she said, trying out her new strategy of giving Rick breaks in between the strategy sessions. "Michonne said y'all are almost there with the guardianship process."

Rick pulled his feet down, sitting up straighter in his chair and beaming proudly. "Paperwork's all filed, home visit is done. We just have the hearing to get through. Unfortunately, we're dealing with the court's timeframe on that."

"I'm so happy for you, Rick. Both of you."

"Thanks, Maggie. You girls gonna show Michonne a good time tonight? This hasn't been much of a break for her considerin' how much work is involved in this process."

"You can count on us for that," Maggie said with a mischievous grin. "We actually have somethin' planned for her; just a little sprinkle of sorts."

"What's a sprinkle?" he asked, his face contorting at the unfamiliar term.

"It's like a baby shower, but small. Just an excuse for us all to buy baby things and pass them around while we drink our wine."

Rick shook his head at the estrogen fueled idea, but he quickly deduced that Michonne would probably be very touched by the gesture, and so he was too. "She'll like that," he said with a nod. "I guess that's probably one of the things she's thought about...things she wouldn't get to do."

"She's happy, Rick," Maggie said, reaching out to lay a hand on his arm. "Really. I can see it when she talks about Judith. Her eyes just light up. It's been a long time since I've seen that."

Rick nodded, patting Maggie's hand and settling back into his chair.

"You know, Beth's graduatin' a semester early. She'll be home in January for good, if ya'll need a nanny. I know Michonne is takin' a little time off from work, but after that, you'll need some help."

"We will," Rick agreed. "Especially if I win this thing."

"Well, let's make sure you win this thing," she smiled, pleased with her plan's success. They were back to work and he hadn't even noticed. "Now, I'm thinking one more push with the mailings..."

Rick's cell phone started to ring just as they settled into their conversation and he fished it out of his pocket, answering it on speaker phone.

"Rick," Michonne said, as soon as he connected the call. "Turn on the television."

"I'm at the campaign office," he said, "hold on." He strode across the room to the old, rear projection television set sitting on top of a filing cabinet, and switched it to the local station. The first thing he saw was Gregory standing next to a podium with Merle beside him looking awkward in an ill fitting suit and tie. "What the hell is this?" he asked, grabbing the remote control with his free hand, and turning the volume up, as Maggie came to stand beside him.

"This department is full of loose cannons," Gregory was saying, "and it's time to clean it up once and for all." He was speaking to a room full of reporters, in what looked like a pre-recorded press conference, and Rick peered around what was visible of the room, looking for any more familiar faces. "We can't do that by giving the office over to one of the biggest culprits. Rick Grimes may be the most familiar face in this race, but let's not forget where we've seen that face most often. It's been in the newspapers for incidents just like the one that Mr. Dixon went through at the hands of this department." He gestured to Merle beside him and the clip ended, the local anchor taking back the screen to continue on with the afternoon news.

"Merle couldn't just stay under that rock he's been hiding at?" Maggie said, beginning to pace the small room.

"Should I come down there?" Michonne said, still on the phone.

"No. Do your thing. Maggie will draw up a response," he said, glancing at her and receiving a nod in return. "I'll handle Merle."

"Rick...you need to keep a cool head right now." Her voice was steady, but he could hear the concern in her tone.

"I promise, Michonne. I'll see you at home before you head to Andrea's. Trust me, ok?"

"I trust you."

Michonne walked through the door carrying a paper bag filled with wine bottles and various ingredients, and slipped off her boots at the door. She spotted Carl on the couch with a comic book, and she waved him over to help her with her load.

"What's all this?" Carl asked, excitedly. "Looks like you're making those appetizer things I like."

"Sorry, kid," she said, following him into the kitchen. "They're for girl's night."

"Sounds a lot better than the guy's night dad has planned, which is sandwiches and manual labor, by the way."

"You're painting the nursery tonight?" she asked, smiling at the back of his head as he set her bags on the counter.

"Yeah, Uncle Daryl is coming over."

She nodded at the plan, and began organizing items as Carl unloaded them, briefly wondering if Rick and Daryl should be left to their own devices while Merle still had to be dealt with. She didn't finish her thought, though because the two of them came through the door just then, laughing and carrying paint cans and their own shopping bags.

"Hey Daryl," she said, slapping her palm against the one he held out, as she walked past him to greet Rick with a hug

"Hey 'Chonne. You headin' to the hen house tonight?" Daryl smirked.

"Cute," she said, kissing her husband on the mouth. "Can we talk for a second?"

Rick nodded, handing Daryl his bag and following her toward their bedroom, where she took a seat on the bed.

"So, what do you think is behind Merle's sudden reappearance?" she asked, as soon as he had closed the door behind them.

"I don't know," he said. He came to stand before her, setting his hands on his hips, and gave her a pensive look. "Daryl and I are going to find out, though...all by the book. You don't need to worry about this."

"Rick," she said, dragging the syllable out in deference to her tone. "I'm not acting as campaign manager right now, but I'm still your wife."

"I'm not dodging you, Michonne. I'm serious. Merle has an angle and I'm gonna figure out what it is and fix it. He's not helping Gregory out of the kindness of his heart, and he doesn't care enough about me to be acting out of spite alone." He took a step toward her, tipping his head to his shoulder with a smile. "Just do me a favor and put it away for tonight, ok?"

"Alright."

"Good. Go have fun with the girls tonight," he said, leaning in to kiss her forehead. "We got this."

"Oh, I know we do," she smirked, thankful for his confidence. "And I plan on having plenty of fun." She had earned this night out, and she knew Rick would handle the rest.

Michonne balanced a tray of stuffed mushrooms in one hand, a bottle of wine wedged under her elbow, and raised her arm to knock on Andrea's door. Only a moment went by before her friend came to greet her with a half empty cocktail tipping precariously in her hand. "Michonne's here," she yelled, louder than necessary given the size of her condo. If any of the others were there yet, they were surely within hearing distance for a normal level of volume.

Michonne quirked her eyebrow, waltzing past her host intent on unloading her arms and pouring herself a drink. She barely made it through the door, though, when she spotted the backs of three heads, lined up together on the couch, and heard more voices coming from the kitchen just out of eyesight.

"Am I late?" she asked, rhetorically, since she knew she had pulled up at exactly 7pm as instructed.

"Have you ever been?" Andrea smirked.

"Not that I can recall."

The brown bob she had noticed first, swung around at the sound of her voice to reveal Maggie's shining face. Her perpetually perky friend jumped to her feet and squealed as if she hadn't been expecting to see her. Rosita's black ponytail swung around next, followed by a mess of curly and kinky brown strands, as the third woman turned to offer a gleaming smile.

"Karen!" Michonne exclaimed, surprised at the sight of their long distance friend, who was not only the mother of two girls now, but also ran a successful real estate business. She didn't often get to join them for these impromptu get togethers. "It's so good to see you," she said, embracing her with one arm as Maggie moved to take the appetizers from her other.

"It's even better to see you!" Karen returned, her grin growing.

She released Karen with a smile just as Francine and Sasha came out of the kitchen, each carrying a tray of long stemmed champagne flutes with a pretty, pink stick of crystalized candy adorning each glass and slowly turning the liquid a rosy hue.

"Francine!" Michonne said, feeling as if she was playing a game of Who's Behind Door Number One with all of her girlfriends. "You finally made it to one of these."

"I told Abe he was on daddy duty tonight," she said, as she handed her tray to Rosita and hugged Michonne tightly. "This was too important to miss."

Michonne crinkled her brow as she let go of Francine and scanned the room again. All of her friends were wearing the type of grins that looked like they could easily dissolve into teary confessions and they'd barely even started in on the wine. She was about to request an explanation when Tara burst through the door, holding a pink and gold wrapped box in one hand and a large bag of takeout food in the other.

"Did I miss it?" she asked, then spotting Michonne, she sighed out loud. "Stupid traffic."

"You almost made it," Sasha pouted.

"At least the food will still be hot. Hey, Michonne," Tara said, hiding the gift box behind her back and giving her a hug.

Michonne was beginning to understand there was more going on than just their typical wine and yoga pants party. In fact, looking around again, she was the only one wearing the stretchy, cotton bottoms. "Did I miss a memo?" she asked, watching Maggie bounce up and down on her tiptoes, as if she was either extremely excited about something or was overdue for a trip to the restroom.

"Nope," Andrea smiled. "We purposely left you out of the communications. "This is your baby shower!"

"Sprinkle," Maggie corrected, afraid Michonne might balk at the idea. "Just a little somethin', cause we're so excited for you."

Michonne's confusion melted away as a few other details she had missed, began to appear: a stand covered with pink frosted cupcakes on the dining room table, a stack of neatly wrapped gifts on the kitchen island, and tucked into the corner of the room, a beautiful wooden bassinet, piled high with packages of diapers and wipes to the point of overflowing. She brought a hand to her lips, genuine surprise stealing her voice as her eyes bounced from smiling face, to smiling face.

"Did Rick know about this?" she asked, truly taken aback at their ability to plan this under her nose.

"I only told him today," Maggie said. "So he didn't have much time to spill it."

"He didn't spill it, right?" Sasha asked, dubiously.

"He didn't," she assured them, smiling at what she knew must have been a concerted effort. "I can't believe you all did this. It's..it's so kind. Thank you."

She felt her own grin begin to morph into the same sentimental look her friends were wearing, full of surprise and humility. It wasn't that she didn't feel fully ingratiated into the group. She felt that way almost immediately. And she had good friends before she moved here, but nothing like this. She ran a hand under her eyes in a preemptive strike against an emotional scene and turned to embrace Andrea who was standing closest to her.

"You deserve it," Maggie said. "You deserve it all, Michonne. Every bit of happiness that is coming your way."

"Alright," Andrea said, as Michonne dabbed at her eyes again. "Let's not get sappy. This is a Saturday night, open bar baby shower where the mom can actually enjoy the cocktails. It doesn't get much more fun than that."

"Here, here," Sasha said, removing the champagne glasses from the tray and handing them out around the room.

Michonne inspected her flute, watching the tiny pink bubbles ascend to the top, so light, yet so determined, and she thought it the perfect metaphor for her own effervescence. She felt positively buoyant, now that she had let go of so much anger and pain, like her heart was surging toward a destination that had always beckoned her and nothing could hold her back. She would have her daughter with her in a matter of weeks. A little girl that had started out alone but was about to inherit a family that stretched well beyond the little unit she and Rick and Carl had created. Judith was already being welcomed into this circle of friends who all meant the world to each other, just like she herself had been when she had come here alone. She and Judith already had something in common, Michonne thought with a smile.

"Now don't forget, Michonne," Tara said as she accepted a glass. "When you're thinking about God parents, there were two other people on the back of that ambulance that day." She winked at Sasha and received a nod in return.

"You have a point," Michonne laughed.

As soon as the drinks were handed out, Maggie began to give a toast to the little baby that would soon be sharing their home as well as their hearts. Michonne tried and failed to contain all the love she had for these women, letting a couple of tears escape her eyes as she listened. She didn't mind though, as it occurred to her it had been weeks since she'd cried. Not since the day she and Rick decided to take this journey had she found herself overcome, and even now that her eyes were misting up again, she knew each tear that fell was happier than the last.

Each woman lifted their glass to the sky at the conclusion of Maggie's toast, and drained them in dedication.

"I can't tell you how thankful I am for all of you," Michonne said, feeling the buzz of the carbonation rushing her head. "This is amazing, all of it." She wrapped an arm around Maggie, resting her head on her shoulder. "Now, I just have one question," she said, eyeing all of the women at once. "Who's going to open the wine?"

"I'm on it!" Sasha said, heading to the kitchen.

...

"This color looks like ice cream," Carl said, pouring the minty green paint from the can into a flimsy plastic tray, as Daryl cleaned up the packaging from their store bought sandwiches and chips.

"Be careful," Rick replied. He watched the cheap bin bend and flex with the added weight and he had a vision of the cream colored carpet getting an unintended makeover as well. He gestured to Daryl to swap tasks with Carl, as he climbed back up the ladder.

"Looks like one of them Shamrock Shake things from McDonalds," Daryl agreed, as he knelt down to assist the boy. "Kid's gonna get a sweet tooth like 'Chonne starin' at this all day."

Rick smiled at the thought, his mind exploring what other traits Judith would pick up from her, or him. "She didn't want pink," he explained, as he tore off a piece of painter's tape with his teeth and began stretching it out on the last remaining edge of gleaming white ceiling.

Daryl and Carl both shrugged as they resealed the can of paint and began setting out the rollers and brushes. Carl handed Rick a paint brush and small, portable bucket of paint to keep on the ladder, then set about carefully soaking the foam pads in the freshly poured paint and Daryl and he got to work on a large wall, making quick work of their first coat. "This is like when we painted the tree house. Remember, Dad? Michonne picked that color too."

"I guess she did," Rick remembered with a smile. "And she got outta doing the painting part then too."

This was a much easier task than the treehouse though, if he had to choose. The spare room was almost as big as Carl's, with plenty of room for a baby, and it had only taken the three of them a short time to move all of the odds and ends that were being stored there up into the attic via the pulldown ladder in the ceiling. The walls, however, were mostly filled with windows and closet doors, leaving less surface area to cover with the color.

Michonne had picked up a linen white, skirted, upholstered rocking chair with a matching ottoman six months ago, back when she was still hopeful that they would need it, and it was the only thing remaining in the room. The rest of her building collection was piled neatly in the walk in closet of the master bedroom, just waiting for him to finish the paint job before she could arrange everything in its proper place.

In the two weeks since they had made the decision to adopt Judith, Michonne had been on a shopping spree, collecting wall art, and linens, and woven baskets that she arranged perfectly with books and baby blankets. She had the entire nursery planned in a sketchbook, and had even supplied Rick with a little, brown velveteen rabbit that wore a satin bow around its neck in the exact color she wanted the walls, so he could make sure to match it. Daryl hadn't missed the opportunity to rag on him for carrying the toy into the hardware store where they had gone to have the paint mixed earlier that evening, but it was a small price to pay to get her exactly what she wanted, and that always remained his mission.

"So when you gettin' this girl?" Daryl asked, as he stretched to reach the edge of the tape Rick had applied.

"Just waitin' on the court date. I was thinkin' of asking Judge King to pull some strings and get it moved to the top of the pile."

"Good thing we're working on this room then. King will come through."

"I hope so." Rick applied a few more strokes of color to the wall and stood back to admire Michonne's choice. "Carl," he said, gesturing to the wall, "take a picture of this and send it to Michonne."

"Ok, Dad," Carl replied, pulling out his phone just as Rick wiped his face with the back of his hand, leaving an errant streak of pale green across his cheek. Carl made sure to get him in the shot as he captured the job well done, snickering as he sent it.

Tara threw her head back, one hand wrapped around her midsection and laughed heartily until a painful shot of champagne snorted through her nose. "Ouch, ouch!" she exclaimed through her guffaws. "You gotta stop. I can't breath."

Michonne listened to her and Sasha reminisce about the last time all of them had been together, which just happened to be almost three years ago, when they'd spent New Year's Eve together.

"A few more months and we're going to get to relive the whole thing," Karin joined in, sharing her own smile at the memory. "Mark your calendars for this New Year's."

"I can't wait!" Maggie said.

Michonne laughed quietly as the women continued to tell stories, smoothing her palms over a particularly adorable pair of footed pajamas that Karen had gifted Judith. She was remembering the more private moments of that trip that she had shared with Rick, as she stared at the piles of discarded tissue paper that lay beside her feet, where stacks of presents had previously sat. Maggie and Francine sat on the floor in front of her folding blankets and tiny dresses and placing them back into gift bags for easy transport.

Her heart and her belly were full after an amazing spread of Chinese takeout, followed by a couple of cupcakes from Carol's bakery, sent with her regrets for not being able to attend, and a beautiful, peach colored, three piece layette. She was just starting to wonder how Rick and Carl were doing, when her phone buzzed from its spot on the table, next to her empty wine glass and she reached over them to retrieve it. Carl's picture was a little blurry and she wasn't sure if it was supposed to be a document of their progress or a candid of Rick, taken unbenounced to him; either way it made her smile.

She clicked on the photo and held out her arm to show the color to Andrea, who was perched on the arm of the chair beside her. Her ever snarky friend surprised her with an appreciative sigh, taking the phone from her hand to get a better look. "It's beautiful," she said, handing the phone to Sasha who was craning her neck for a glimpse. "She's going to love it."

Rick balanced on the ladder, reaching over his head to swipe a paint brush along the last bit of white wall left above the door in Judith's soon to be nursery. He had sent Carl to bed an hour ago, when they had completed the first coat. Now Daryl was stretched out on the floor, leaning back on his arms as Rick put the finishing touches on the Hemlock green walls.

"How we gonna work this thing with Merle?" Daryl asked. "We know he ain't the brains of this plan."

"No, he ain't. And we have nothing to offer him in exchange for his information on who is."

"You got the time to tail him for awhile? See who he's interacting with?"

"Probably not enough time to keep him from doing more damage."

Daryl sat up, crossing his arms over his chest. "Maybe we're overestimating him," he said. "With Merle, there's gotta be money involved or he ain't liftin' his finger. Could be once he gets paid, he don't care about keepin' his mouth shut no more."

"Could be. So we just have a little chat?"

"I have a little chat," Daryl said. "You talk to your man, Gregory."

"And say what?"

"Call his bluff. This is a last ditch effort if I ever saw one. Make him see it ain't worth his while."

Rick finished his last stroke of paint and settled his elbow on the top of the ladder, wiping at his brow. He nodded down at Daryl, his eyes reflecting the wheels turning in his head. "Alright, then. That's the plan."

Daryl nodded, standing up from the floor. "That's the plan."

After packing away their work for the night, Daryl bid his friend a good night and headed home as the night flipped the page to early morning. Rick washed up and settled in on the couch with the intention of waiting for Michonne, but that quickly turned to dozing through an old black and white Western playing on the television. That's where he was when the door creaked open, and Michonne tiptoed in. The lights were all off, just the grey reflection from the movie illuminating her path, and she made it all the way into the living room, silently dropping her bags in the corner before he realized her presence.

"Hey," she whispered, as he lifted his head from the couch pillow and squinted in her direction. "Were you waiting up for me?"

"I was," he said, rubbing at his eyes. "I almost made it too."

Michonne smiled, kicking off her shoes and climbing onto the couch with him. She draped herself across his supine form, resting her head on his chest and he groaned playfully, despite her slight frame.

"Did you have a good time?" he asked, his voice still thick from his short brush with sleep. He rested his hands on her backside, taking the opportunity to squeeze at her fleshy, round derriere.

"I did. And you knew about their plan?"

"I heard a little somethin' about it."

She smiled, fiddling with the buttons on his shirt while she reveled in the memories of the evening. "I can't wait to show you everything they got her. The pajamas and dresses...they're all so tiny, and Sasha got her these pretty little tights, and Maggie! You're gonna love this, she found a teeny, little pair of infant size cowboy boots."

Rick grinned as he listened to her gush, greedily soaking up all of her joy and basking in it. He hadn't realized he had been missing this side of her, until it made a return. She hid it well, the abjection she had been carrying just below the surface, but now that it had receded he was getting reaquainted with the liveliness in her eyes and the goofy giddiness she could dissolve into in the right moment. She continued to chatter with palpable glee about each and every item she had received for the baby, her cheery intonation sending ripples of longing down from his chest and into his pants.

"I can't wait to see 'em," he whispered, moving his hands up her torso and under the back of her shirt, where her skin was warm and soft against his fingers. She pressed her hips against his in response to his touch and any inclination to fall back asleep fled from his body.

Rick reluctantly removed one hand from the curve of her back, using it to tip her chin upward. She paused her recounting when he leaned in for an ardent kiss, capturing her mouth mid sentence, her lips already parted and easily breached by his tongue.

Michonne giggled into his mouth, surprised by, but in no way adverse to the interruption.

"You taste like wine and frosting," he said, pulling away to gaze at her face with a heartfelt grin. "Now I know you had a good time."

"Well, I'm glad you waited up for me," she whispered, "cause now I want to have a good time with you."

Rick wasted no time, diving back in. He found her lips again, then placed a hand under each arm and dragged her up his body so they were face to face. Due to her shorter height, he lost the sensation of her hips pressed against his, but the increased access to her jaw and neck made up for it, as he explored all of her favorite spots.

Understanding the sacrifice, she worked one of her thighs in between his legs and immediately felt him harden against the pressure. Her fingers became more determined, working the fastenings on his shirt until they opened, so she could explore the soft patch of chest hair nestled between his pecs.

"You're not too tired?" he asked, taking her earlobe between his teeth and letting his tongue flick firmly against it as he spoke.

A shiver ran down her body at the sensation of his breath on her ear and she nearly gasped, her belly fluttering with anticipation. She knew the way he liked to tease her with a preview of his skills when he planned to use his tongue on her in other ways. He continued to taunt her, nuzzling into her neck with his nose and sucking and licking a languid path down to her collarbone. "I'm wide awake," she promised, her hands finding his belt buckle.

"Good," he said, pushing his hips forward so she could better reach him, but before she could get the metal clasp undone, he wrapped his arms around the backs of her thighs, pulling them toward him in one smooth motion as he sat up. He adjusted slightly so her legs wrapped around his waist, then stood, taking her with him. "I'm ready for bed."

He walked her over to the TV blindly, his face buried in the hair that fell around her shoulders, and she reached down with one hand to turn it off, bathing the room and them in darkness. "I'm ready too," she whispered. "Take me there."