"C'mon Sweetheart," Rick coaxed, lightly placing his hands back onto her swollen belly. "Lay back 'an relax. You have my word, I'll be gentle. Hell, I'm the one who oughta be cryin'. It's startin' to feel like you don't trust me at all. You do, right?"

"Oh my God!" Michonne squealed, prone on their bed as tears streamed from the corners of her eyes and trickled down into her ears. "You gotta stop! I can't do this. I can't Rick. You're killing me!"

Rick, straddling Michonne's thighs, applied light pressure on either side of her in an attempt to calm and refocus her attention towards himself and away from the taut skin tormenting her hyper-sensitive belly. He glanced up at her face, just in time to see her eyes snap shut and her head fall back onto the many fluffy pillows propping her up against the headboard. Despite his hands simply hovering over her and not yet making contact, he could feel small anticipatory shivers emanating from her as his eyes traveled down her body.

She had on her powder blue robe, open and crumpled on either side of her; her protruding tummy having rendered its cloth belt useless. Rick's eyes slowly continued their downward trajectory. He stopped to marvel her bare breasts, now enticingly engorged and prepared to nourish their baby girl. His eyes trailed down the dark line running through the center of her belly and disappearing into the lilac-colored lace panties barely peeking out from under her extended mid-section.

The glimpse of her pretty panties, certainly not a necessity in this world, but a sexy bonus which never failed to rev his arousal and bring a bright smile to his face. It no longer surprised him how, despite being in the final stages of pregnancy, she still found pleasure in these little details from a simpler time. As she had explained to him, they made her feel good and were a small reminder of the things she'd been afforded in her previous life. A minor token from the world before, and a comfort to her psyche that a bit of frivolity was still possible even now. Rick was more than happy to be the primary beneficiary of a comforted Michonne.

Michonne gasped through gritted teeth, twisting her head side to side in a futile attempt to escape Rick's prickly clutches. Her body was tinderbox; one strike from a match liable to send her up in flames. What had started off as a kindhearted offer to salve the perpetually itchy skin across her rapidly growing stomach, had quickly devolved into a comedy of errors, leaving Michonne laughing hysterically, while Rick, nearing exhaustion, pondered how best to take back control of what was to be a full day of his 'pampering' Michonne.

Carl had gone to the Hilltop for training on how to manufacture weapons from scrap metal, a necessary vocation in this new world and something he'd shown a keen interest in learning. He'd graciously offered to take Judith with him to give Rick and Michonne some time alone. In reality, both Rick and Michonne knew he had taken Judith just so Herschie would have a playmate and he could spend more time with Enid. Neither was fooled by Carl's generous offer, but with both kids out of the house, Rick had secretly vowed to make the day all about her. This no easy feat for such a self-sufficient woman, but he'd break his back trying.

"You need to stop!" she pleaded, taking in large gulps of air as she tried to compose herself. "It tickles!"

"Sweetheart, if you don't stay still, it'll only get worse," he pleaded, gradually reaching back down towards her belly. "Now hush woman 'fore you wake the dead! I swear, I've watched you do this a million times and don't ever recall so much fussin'."

"You can't tickle yourself Rick," Michonne wheezed, trying to control the animated giggles rippling through her body, causing her to jerk up from the pillows. "Ok, ok, just gimme another minute… I need a minute Rick! Just don't go too far down the sides. Please!"

Breathing slowly through her nose, she continued, "Ok, I thin– think I'll be ok. I can do this."

"You're the one that can't reach anythin'," he teased, his hands still suspended over her as he watched her squirm beneath him. "Just tryin'a help you out."

She looked at him, tears of laughter partially obscuring his lop-sided grin. Her giggles subsided as he lifted himself off her thighs and calmly guided her torso back onto the bed. He peered down at her now closed eyelids, before picking up the large vitamin E capsule from their nightstand and carefully piercing it with a thumb tack. He squeezed the oily contents into the palms of his hands, before leaning over to discard the empty casing and thumb tack back onto the nightstand. Returning to her, he vigorously rubbed the balm in his hands, wanting to warm it up before spreading it across Michonne's bare belly.

Rick relished this new morning ritual. Helping Michonne in the shower, patting her dry, then laying her back onto their bed to apply whatever concoction she'd come up with over her already improbably silky-smooth skin. What he hadn't anticipated was her steadily increasing sensitivity to his touch. What had begun as some of the best foreplay of his life had recently become a farcical quest to hold his love still enough to ease her tender skin of some of its discomfort.

Opening her eyes to gaze up at him, Michonne began snickering again, the prospect of his fingers caressing her belly already provoking the cringe-inducing feeling she knew would soon overwhelm her senses. She took a long, cleansing breath and centered herself around the deep oceanic pools staring back at her. Gently, his broad hands cupped her stomach, careful to maneuver around her belly button, a particularly sensitive area now jutting out from her once flat stomach. She eased into his touch, sighing deeply, as he rubbed the softest of circles into her skin. She smiled, dropping her head back onto the pillows and once again closing her eyes.

"Rick," Michonne murmured, his feather-like massage already floating her towards sleep. "Don't we have to get up and, you know, do stuff?"

"Shhh," he hushed, willing her to stay in the moment. "Kids're gone, so I'm officially declaring today 'Take Care of Mama Day.'

"So that's been declared huh?" she tittered, using all her energy to keep her hands at her sides as Rick's hands made their way up from her belly.

"Yup," he replied, working the oily substance upwards to her breasts, showing careful consideration for her sensitive mounds. "All you gotta do is sit back and take it easy. I got this."

The intoxicating sound of Michonne purring her contentment caused the pace of his massage to ebb. Noting he had slowed down but his hands remained on her breasts, she opened her eyes to find him with that smile on his lips. Not breaking eye contact, he palmed her breasts, feeling her nipples hardened into distended pebbles beneath his fingertips. He pulled himself up her body and leaned in for a searing just-getting-started kiss.

She lifted her head to meet him halfway, her body already responsive to his touch. Gradually, his lips left hers, making their way back down her body. Arriving at his first stop, his tongue darted out and circled her nipple. She startled, her hyper-sensitivity causing pinprick explosions across her skin. Her hands quickly found themselves at the back of his head. As she used her fingertips to comb through his curls, his tongue continued their exploration.

He drew her nipple fully into his mouth, lapping at the delicacy while fondling the other breast in his hand. Once he had accomplished the rigid peak he desired, he moved his lips to the other, leaving a wet trail in his wake. Giving both equal attention, his proceeded down her body, dropping sweet kisses across the expanse of her belly, taking a moment to say a silent prayer for their baby's safe delivery.

As he felt her body involuntarily pitch forward, he rose to his knees, taking her in, while hooking a finger on either side of her panties. He drew them down her legs and off, discarding them onto the floor next to their bed. Looking at her, he lowered his head to leave a final kiss just below her belly button. He used his tongue to trek down the same dark line running below her belly button, and into the small tuft of hair crowning her glory. He traversed her sweet bud, his tongue moving down to her already drenched slit. Gripping her thighs in each hand, he pushed them up, spreading her wide for his enjoyment. He leaned in, flattening his tongue for a long, slow lick upwards, landing back at her bud. She writhed on the bed, his skillful tongue seemingly sending pulses to every nerve center in her body.

She wondered at how much more responsive she'd become over the past few weeks. Gleefully, the pregnancy hormones continuously coursing through her body kept her perpetually on the edge of that cliff whenever he was within her sights. He settled onto his elbows, resting them on the bed as he dove in and began suckling her bud in earnest. The sensation soon proved to be too much as she tried to squirm away from his tongue. He reached up to place his forearm across the crease just below her belly and firmly held her in place, while increasing the speed and pressure of his mouth against her bare flesh.

He could no longer look up to watch her unravel as he used to before her belly obscured his sightline to her beautiful face. But he could feel each and every reaction to his ministrations. He felt her legs tremble as her panicked moans filled the air, music to his ears as he dipped a solitary finger between her folds. Then, the crescendo. She rose nearly upright from the bed, heart racing, as the pool of pleasure emanating from her core, slowly, achingly, spread to her extremities. His mouth stayed in place, no longer moving, but content to feel her as ecstasy frantically took her breath.

He gave her a moment to recuperate, pausing as her fingers ran through his hair, both quietening and exciting him. He landed one last kiss on her mound, before working his way up her body, dropping more kisses as he went. The last landed on her lips, where she quickly drew his tongue into her mouth, getting a hint of the lingering taste of herself on his lips. He reached over, placing his hand on the back of her neck and drawing her towards him, deepening their kiss.

He turned to his side, dragging her towards him. They retreated into each other's arms as best they could, her just-over 8-month belly interfering with their physical closeness, but not their intimacy. His lips left hers, taking a moment to look into her eyes, gazing into the only place he could conceive of ever calling home again.

Using his thumb, he traced a pattern from the apple of her cheek, down to the first soft curve of her luscious lips. His hand moved up, finding itself atop the towel covering her freshly washed locs. He released the damp tresses from the towel wrapped around her head, the smell of lavender and other floral notes he couldn't quite make out wafted through the air, further tantalizing his senses.

Watching her fully revealed before him, he was awed by the privilege of witnessing her in all her splendor. Each time they did this dance, something new was revealed, as was the persistent feeling that his entire life had been preparation for him to experience moments like these with this woman.

"You're so beautiful," he whispered, the very utterance of the phase causing his voice to waver. "I don't take for granted how lucky I am to have you."

"Me too," she murmured, matching his tone. "You know how much I love you."

"I love you more," he said, stealing another kiss.

"Impossible," she said, her lips reclaiming his.

His hands found their way down her arms and onto the bend of her hips. He admired how they subtly flared out, dipping into her belly in front, and disappearing over the edge onto her backside. He reached around her and gave it a squeeze, eliciting a moan that seemed to echo in his mouth. He cupped her cheek, dipping his fingers into the crevice, sticky from the essence she exuded during their earlier activities. He pulled her as close to him as he possibly could; he needed more.

She slowly turned away from him, her bottom now resting against his rigid length. He helped her lift her leg, placing it backwards on top of his thigh. He wrapped his arms around her belly and slowly entered her from behind, pausing as she gasped and a shudder ran through her lower body. Impatiently, she pushed back, sinking onto him until he was fully sheathed inside her. She stilled for a moment, catching her breath as the ecstasy of their coupling seized her very being.

Slowly, she began to rock back on his length. Back and forth, a steady rhythm sung in a tune made just for him. His groans filled the room as the white heat that encapsulated his length threatened to scorch him from the inside out. His hand moved from her belly downwards, eventually finding their way to her slick bud. He rubbed slow circles around it, feeling her tense, then relax into his touch. He felt the telltale clench of his length inside her, knowing she was nearing her release. His length stroked in tandem to his fingers, drawing her closer and closer to the edge.

One last lingering stroke was all it took. She was undone, crashing against him with a satiated sigh as he continued to pummel her from the back. His pace quickened, chasing his own blissful release as he pumped into her. Reaching across her to push in even deeper, he let go. A loud grunt escaping his lips as his length pulsed into her, bit by bit, issuing all he had into her tight, wet heat.

They laid in quiet contentment, his strong arms wrapped around her. The spell was eventually broken with her words,

"Fuck!" she grumbled, looking up at his smiling face. "How am I supposed to be productive after that?"

He laughed, kissing her shoulder as he flipped her onto her back and propped himself onto his elbows to get a better look at her.

"Well, technically, this is all your fault," he stated, rubbing his hand over her still glossy belly.

"How so?"

"You insisted I rub that stuff on your belly. You know I can't resist when I see you like this. All fresh and open in front of me. It's like taking a starvin' man to a buffet and tellin' 'im to only eat the salad."

"Oh, really now? I've been starving you?"

"Well, you know I'll always be hungry when you're around, so…" he said, playfully shrugging his shoulders.

"Good to know," she smirked, dropping her forehead to his.

He pulled back to gaze at her before leaning in for one last kiss.

"You feelin' alright?" he queried, turning her onto her side and pulling her back against his chest, hoping to use all the goodness flowing out of her to quiet his suddenly anxious heart. "We're gettin' awfully close to finally meetin' her. I know we've got the best support, at least in this world, but still… I can't help but worry a bit."

"We're gonna be fine," Michonne said, snuggling deeper into the cozy warmth of his embrace. "I feel it in my bones. This is meant to be, so nothing's gonna stop it from happening Rick. Dr. Soroyan's here, Rosita's here too. It'll be all good."

"You and the kids are my world," he began, his voice shaking slightly as he planted a kiss on the top of her head. "Wouldn't want to be here without any of you. Couldn't."

"Well, then it's lucky for you that everything is going to be fine."

He nodded, not wanting to concede, but knowing she was practical and the odds seemed to be in their favor as of late. Still, happiness in this world tended to come with caveats. Things could change an instance, so these small, special moments were fraught with higher meaning.

"Hey," she said, reaching back to playfully tug at his curls and guide his attention to another topic. "Aaron said Jesus is finally ready to leave the Hilltop and move in with him here. It'll be nice to have him close."

"I'm just glad we're not gonna lose Aaron," Rick began, absentmindedly stroking her arm with his thumb. "that would'a been a big blow. Plus, who'd we have to keep Daryl from goin' full feral when he's out there?"

"Can't argue with that," she agreed, sighing as his warmth enveloped her. "It'll be good having him here full time. I've missed him."

"Maggie's probably gonna be sore 'bout losin' him," he murmured, landing another kiss on her top of her head. "But I think it'll work out nicely for us. He'll be a good additional to the council, bein' a pretty good judge of character an' all."

"Do you know how much I love hearing you say that after all this time?" she laughed, pulling Rick's arms more tightly around her shoulders. "I guess first impressions aren't everything."

"Yeah, well, he had it comin'," he laughed, thinking back on his less-than auspicious initial meeting with Jesus and how it set the course for their eventual reclamation of civilization.

"What else you got planned for me today Rick?" Michonne queried, not minding one bit if they spent the entirety of the day wrapped around each other in bed.

"Let's start out with a little nap," Rick mumbled, wrapping his arms around her belly and yawning loudly as he closed his eyes. "You'll need to rest 'cause I'm not quite done takin' care of you yet."

"Said you had somethin' to say to me?" Rick demanded, his furious stare pinning the cagey intruder to his seat at the Monroe's dining table. "So, c'mon out with it. Speak."

Minutes earlier, Maggie and Glenn's frantic pounding on his front door had roused Rick from a fitful sleep on his living room couch. Yanking open the door onto their anxious faces, he knew instantly that whatever was wrong, it had something to do with the curious stranger he and Daryl had brought home from what proved to be both an exhausting and ultimately fruitless run. Maybe Daryl had been right that nothing good could possibly come from someone who called themselves 'Jesus.'

Jesus had managed to not only cost them a bounty of sorely needed supplies, but also the one thing Rick had wanted to bring back to Alexandria especially for Michonne. He'd been livid at the time but couldn't bring himself to leave the unconscious man in the middle of a field while walkers meandered about. Daryl had reluctantly agreed to bring the evasive man back with them, put off by his wiliness.

After securing Jesus in Alexandria's jail, Rick had gone home to rest, while Daryl, still wired from their day, had gone to join Abe on perimeter watch. Rick spent the rest of the evening sleeping in spurts, spending most of his couch time puzzling over how he'd be able to retrieve the box of spearmint and baking soda toothpaste he knew Michonne would have loved.

After Glenn hurriedly explained how he and Maggie had seen a dark figure scale the side of the Monroe home and crawl into an open second floor window, the three rushed towards the home. Panicked because Carl and Judith were spending the night with Michonne, Rick quickly used a walkie-talkie to alert Abe and Daryl to meet them at the Monroe's.

Bursting through the front door and racing into the foyer, the three found Carl at the base of the stairs with a gun trained on a man kneeling at his feet. Rick glanced up the staircase just in time to catch a disheveled Spencer and Michonne sprinting down the stairs towards them. His eyes briefly connected with hers before both turned their attentions in opposite directions, trying to avoid the awkwardness of the situation. As he looked down at his boot-covered feet, a sharp intake of breath caused a stab of pain to run right through his heart. Futilely, he willed himself to focus on the task at hand: finding out how the man he and Daryl had locked into a jail cell less than an hour prior had managed to escape and find his way to the three people dearest to him.

After Daryl and a burly red-haired man joined the impromptu meeting, Rick directed Jesus to a seat at the table. Jesus kept Rick in his peripheral view while his eyes darted across the room, taking in the matching sneers reflected back at him from those he could only assume were responsible for policing this community. Rick had roughly sat him down at the head of the table, taking an interrogation stance that made him wonder if the man had somehow been in law enforcement. If so, he'd have to quickly deduce whether he was a good cop or a bad one.

The faces surrounding him all looked pretty pissed at his presence, which hadn't been his intention. His eyes landed back on Rick, giving the clenched-jaw man a final once-over. Rick seemed dangerous, but the way he kept looking over at the woman seated to Jesus' right piqued Jesus' interest. Somehow, each look in her direction seemed to cause the man's jaw to relax just a bit. Not sure what to make if that, he filed it away for later examination.

Jesus shifted in his seat, taking in the motley group surrounding him. There was the young man, a kid really, seated behind the woman Rick kept looking towards. He was surprised by how quickly the kid had advanced on him. It was rare for him to meet someone who would be able to move quickly and quietly enough to get a gun to his head. He was impressed by what appeared to be the young man's stealth nature. Based on Rick's protective posture upon entering the home, and how the woman had purposefully partially blocked Jesus' view of the young man, him concluded this had to be the man's son.

The striking woman guarding the son intrigued him. Based on the silent interactions of the father, son, and the woman, it was clear she meant something to them. Jesus was curious to know exactly what it might be. Especially since it was clear she was with the tall, dark-haired man standing protectively behind her chair. Jesus looked on with amusement as Rick visibly recoiled and sneer when the man reached down and put a hand on her shoulder. Something was definitely going on between Rick and the woman.

His eyes bounced around the tastefully decorated room, taking in the suburban splendor that inexplicably seemed to coexist with the end of the world. Most of the faces peering back at him didn't quite seem to fit the peaceful setting in which he'd found himself. They seemed hardened and wary, perhaps weary, and certainly a bit dangerous. He'd have to be careful.

He turned back to Rick, studying him closely as he watched the agitated man grit his teeth, the motion causing the lower part of his face to twitch. He was incensed, that was obvious.

"I'm part of a community not too far from here," he began, looking at the grime faces fanned out across the table. "We're just like you… well, not exactly. I'm a scout, so part of my job is to look for other people to trade with, I–"

"Nah, hold up," the surly man – Daryl, he'd since discerned – who had helped Rick bring him back to their community. "You ain't tellin' us nothin' 'til you tell us how you got out."

"Look, I'm sorry for finding a way out, but what would you have done if you were me?" Jesus implored, his eyes studying the faces surrounding him. "I didn't know if I was safe. I just wanted to check things out. I wasn't going to hurt anyone. That's not me."

In reality, escaping hadn't been a big deal at all. He was used to getting out of sticky situations. His bound hands had been no different. He knew the gruff one would just have soon left him unconscious in the field for walkers to find, but he could tell Rick was different. Suspicious, yet a glimmer of hopefulness simmering just below the surface. He'd regained consciousness in the back of the car but waited patiently to see if he could uncover enough information to ensure his safety once they reached their destination.

Sighing as he shrugged his shoulders, he began anew, "you didn't tie me up very tight. Knots loosen, locks are bypassed, guards fall asleep, what have you. I was looking for Rick's house, but saw a light on in this one, so I thought I'd check it out. I wasn't expecting a kid to pull on gun on me, that's for sure."

"I'm not a kid," Carl interjected, agitatedly shifting in his seat. "I would've ki–"

"Easy Carl," Rick admonished, quickly silencing his son. "Go on. How'd you get in?"

"Before running into him," Jesus continued, nodding towards Carl, then moving his eyes towards Michonne. Gesturing towards Michonne and Spencer, he continued, "I peeked in on these two… um, sleeping."

Michonne dropped her eyes to the table and gave a small smile while shaking her head. The relationship with Spencer had certainly been unexpected. Not that they were hiding, but no one really knew for sure. That is, except for Carl… and maybe Rick, but she wasn't certain Carl had shared this with him. Like Andre, it wasn't a 'secret,' but something she could envision Carl keeping to himself if he thought doing so would shield her. This wasn't exactly how she had planned on sharing the news with her family. She'd hoped for things to stay quiet a little while longer before they would have to allow the inevitable intrusion of outside voices into their nest.

Of course, keeping it from Carl was impossible, especially since he spent so much time around them that he'd quickly suspected something was up. His inquisitive mind rarely missed social queues, but he'd said nothing but a few side comments about why she'd "moved in with Spencer when there was space at Glenn and Maggie's" or why they seemed to always be together. She knew he was goading her into a confession of sorts, but, for a while at least, she'd sidestepped much of his comments. She had finally broken the week before and been open to him about her current situation. It was clear he wasn't Spencer's biggest fan, worried that he couldn't take care of her if things went pear-shaped, but she seemed so at peace, happy even. Her happiness overrode everything else. And so, always wanting to keep her confidence, he didn't tell his father.

Now able to be more open with Spencer when Carl and Judith were around, she had no qualms about having them stay with her while Rick was on his run with Daryl. Things were still awkward between them. Strange even. Thankfully, both had made the commitment to work past their previous conflict for the sake of Carl and Judith.

It had been a few weeks since she'd had regular contact with the kids, but Rick had practically begged her back into their lives and she wouldn't refuse a chance to reconnect with the children who had helped make her whole again. Really, she couldn't. She'd missed them so much. When she was willing to own her truth, she could admit she'd missed Rick as well. At the end of the day, they were family. Theirs was an improbable bond born out of circumstance, but one fortified by genuine love and understanding. It had been a be a fool's errand to try to break it, and she had discovered that she no longer wanted to do so.

Rick had dropped them off that morning and they'd had a great time catching up and doing so work together in the community. When Rick had come by later that evening, they were already asleep upstairs neither had wanted to wake them, so Rick had let them be and gone home for the night.

"I had thought this was your house since I watched you walking towards the door," Jesus continued. "I snuck around to the side, scaled the trellis, and had sneaked down the stairs and planned on waiting in the kitchen until the sun came up and people got up for the day. I had no intention of scaring anyone."

"Yeah, well you did," Rick retorted, sneaking a glance at Michonne, who was apparently intent on studying the wood grains on the table.

Of course, Rick knew about them. Carl wasn't the only one with observation skills. He'd seen them around the community. Walking closer than necessary from one place to the other. Sharing laughs and jokes he was not privy to, spending a lot of time in the Monroe home, even though she was ostensibly still staying with Glenn and Maggie. His heart sank, but he knew he had no right to feel this way. After all, this was an apt punishment for his mistakes. Seeing her happy… without him, broke his heart. But self-loathing convinced him it was what he deserved, even though he knew this hadn't been her intent and would have never been what she wanted for him.

"So, what were you planning on doing?" Glenn asked, ignoring his shock at seeing Michonne and Spencer darting down the stairs together as he, Maggie, and Rick rushed into the Monroe house.

"I was just going to see what I could see about your setup," Jesus replied. "My community is always looking for allies. And because you didn't hurt me or leave me for the dead, I figured you might be another community we could trade with an– "

"You trade with others?" Maggie interrupted, the excitement raising her voice an octave or two. "What do you mean? Where?"

"You haven't run into any other settlements yet?" Jesus inquired, surprised at Maggie's revelation. "You're not trading with anyone?"

"Fuck no!" Abe boomed. "The folks we've run into so far haven't exactly been the type willing to play nice with us."

"How many communities?" Spencer asked, catching Michonne's eye as she turned to look up at him. "What are you trading?"

"We have… a few," Jesus replied, his evasiveness causing Rick and Michonne to straighten up in their chairs.

"I'd like to show you my community first," Jesus replied, his eyes moving back and forth from Rick to Michonne. "You've got the most stocked armory I've seen in a long, long time. That's great, but your food stock is low, especially for the amount of people I coun– I assume you have. That can't be enough to feed everyone, right?"

Jesus glanced back and forth between Rick and Michonne, seeking some sort of confirmation of their current condition and any interest in possibly partnering with his community. With the way everyone seemed to be looking to both of them while speaking, it was clear to him that these would be the two that he needed to convince. They had a good setup here. One that might be beneficial to the Hilltop.

"Our settlement is about a half-day's drive from here," he continued, now focused on Michonne. "If you're willing, I'll take you there so you can see for yourself.

"What if this is an ambush?" Rick asked, looking over at Michonne.

"I believe him," Michonne stated calmly. "If it was, he would've already taken what he wanted to take."

Rick nodded, then continued, "All right, let's see what you've got."

"Trust me, your world is about to get much, much bigger," Jesus replied playfully, as he placed both hands on the table.

…

Carl led the way to the RV parked in front of the Monroe home, while Rick trailed behind, bouncing Judith on his hip as he walked. Rick turned towards the porch, watching as Michonne made her way down the stairs shoulder-to-shoulder with Jesus, whispering to him if they were long lost friends. The instance rapport surprised him; it wasn't like Michonne to warm up so easily to strangers, especially ones who had seemingly caught her in a vulnerable moment. Then again, she was a great judge of character. She'd trusted Aaron before any of the others had. He trusted her on this.

Rick shook his head, trying to discard the idea of Michonne being with Spencer… in 'that' way. The very thought made his heart ache with regret. Instead, he continued falling Carl to the RV as he hears the echo of Michonne laughing at something Jesus must have said.

"Hey dad," Carl began, sheepishly looking to the ground as his father approached him. "I– I'm sorry for not telling you about Michonne and Spencer. Michonne said it wasn't a secret, but I got the feeling she didn't want to share it yet, so I kept quiet. Sorry for that."

"Yeah, well," Rick began, reaching his arm out to clap Carl on the shoulder. "I figured it out anyway. It was bound to happ'n. You've got nothin' to be sorry about. We're all grown-ups here and Michonne's can do whatever she wants. I just want her to be happy."

"Me too," Carl said, nodding as he finally looked up to meet his father's gaze. "She seems happy."

Rick cast his son a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. His regret was an endless cycle of wishing the best for her and wanting that best to mean she was with him and not Spencer. He couldn't afford to wallow in his regret as Michonne made her way to the Grimes, her eyes bright and a full-lipped smile on her lips.

"Alright son, I'll drop Judith off with Olivia," Rick began, turning towards Michonne as she neared them. "Get your stuff. We're leavin' in 30."

"No, I think I'll stay here," Carl replied, reaching out to take his baby sister from Rick's arms, just as Michonne reached them. "Besides, I'm pretty sure no one's gonna want to look at a kid with a face like mine. Probably give 'em nightmares."

Carl's words startled Rick and Michonne. Frown lines creased her forehead as Michonne leaned towards Carl and brushed the hair covering much of his face.

"Hey," she probed, forcing Carl's face up to hers. "What's goin' on? Why would you say something like that?"

"Yeah Carl," Rick added, placing his hand on Carl's shoulder. "How could you even think something like that?

"No reason," Carl insisted, looking down at his sister. "It just came out."

"C'mon Carl," Michonne insisted, not buying his story for a minute. "Stuff like that doesn't just come out. Spill it. Why Carl?"

Sighing, he turned to look up, his head moving back and forth between Michonne and his father. He'd been doing ok, finally starting to feel like himself about. But every time he looked in the mirror, it was a stark reminder of all he had lost. All they had all lost. Getting past it didn't seem to be getting easier as time went on.

"Carl, look at me son," Rick implored, waiting until Carl's eye landed firmly on his. "I want you to know that I love you will all my heart. I could not do this without you. You are you. There is nothin' messed up about your face. Do you hear me? Nothin'."

"Your dad's right," Michonne began, taking a moment to make eye contact with Rick and instantly seeing how grateful he was to have her support. "You're perfect exactly as you are. You need to think of this as your badge of courage. You're the strongest person I know. I'm so proud of you Carl. Don't ever forget that."

Carl looked up, taking in the seriousness written across both their faces. Holding the stare of those eyes that were nearly identical to his own, along with the deep brown eyes that made him feel tethered to this world and safe. He watched their eyes turn glassy, tears at the precipice. He nodded quickly, not sure he quite believed, but knowing they did, and so, he should.

Jesus stood a few feet away observing the family drama, unsure of how this dynamic coincided with the one he had previously witnessed at the dining room table. The beautiful samurai seemed to be with the other man, yet here she was, comforting the son of the other. It was all very strange, and very, very intriguing.

…

"Hey babe!" Spencer called out from the porch of their home. "Can I talk to you for a minute?"

Michonne gave Carl's arm a final squeeze before turning back towards the Monroe house, where Spencer beckoned her from the bottom steps. She walked over to meet him at the bottom of the porch steps.

"I don't want you to go," he began, pulling her hand into his. "Why can't Rick handle this on his own? Why do you have to go?"

"I've already explained this Spencer," Michonne replied, just a little exasperated. "You know we need a bit of diplomacy here, which is why Maggie and I are going. I can handle myself. I'll be fine."

"Then we should both go," he argued, pulling her into his arms. "I don't like you out there with him."

"Spencer," she began, stilling him as she leaned in to give him a hug, laying her head against his chest. "You know I'm with you. Whether Rick goes or stays doesn't change that. You know that right? Please tell me you do."

He used his fingertip to tilt her chin upwards so her eyes met his and began, "I know, but does he?"

"Spencer," she sighed, her eyes still trained on him as she soothed his ego. "You've got me standing in public with my arms around you. I think it's pretty clear to everyone where I stand."

He nodded, dissatisfied, but knowing he would never win an irrational argument with Michonne. She was too logical for that. He looked up to see Rick and most of his original family members hop into the RV as the rest of the Alexandria congregated in front of the RV to see them off. Intertwining his fingers in hers, they walked towards the RV. He nodded to Rick as they arrived, watching as Rick's eyes fell to their clasped hands. Giving him a quick kiss, Michonne entered the van.

"Keep her safe," Spencer said, looking directly at Rick.

"'Course," Rick replied, turning to look into the RV as Michonne took her seat, before turning back to watch Spencer walk up the stairs of his porch and back into his home.

Holding onto the door of the RV, a peculiar thrill came over Rick. The potential start of something 'bigger' that Jesus' entrance into their lives had suggested piqued an energy he hadn't felt in a while. He thought back to crossing the gates into Alexandria just a few months ago. This wasn't exactly where he thought they would be. Yes, the fissures in their family were starting to heal, but this wasn't anywhere near what he'd imagined. As he glanced up into the RV to get a glimpse of Michonne as she smiled at whatever silly thing Jesus was whispering into her ear, he wondered if this might be the start of something new for them. Somehow, the air seemed charged, as if… something big was coming.

He couldn't tell if that feeling at the pit of his stomach was good or bad, but as he walked into the RV's main space and Michonne lifted her eyes to catch his, the light from the adjacent windows capture her smile in such a beguiling way. The warmth she radiated went straight to his heart, fanning a cozy feeling through to his extremities. For a spilt second, a glimmer of hope peeked out from the recesses of his consciousness and lit a spark that told him that perhaps, just maybe, things wouldn't be how they were right now forever. Maybe this would be the start of something else. Maybe.

"Would you just quit it 'an sit still?" Rick implored, perched on the bench that abutted the foot of their bed, while Michonne, her back to him, made herself comfortable on the floor between his knees. "You're messin' me up!"

"Have you ever even touched a black woman's hair before?" Michonne, queried, already regretting letting him talk her into this. "You need to listen and follow instructions."

"I don't know why I even agreed to this," she grumbled, shaking her head as she twisted

"Trina Baker," Rick stated, rubbing her shoulders to get her to relax into his touch.

"What?"

"You asked if I've touched a black woman's hair. The answer is 'yes.' Trina.

"Really? Well, who exactly is Trina Baker?"

"My second-grade girlfriend. She let me kiss her cheek and hold her hand too. Her mama would braid her hair in all these designs and she let me touch 'em. First love of my life."

"Miss Trina let you do all that? Color me impressed!"

"Don't be jealous. You're the last love of my life… and the best."

"Don't you try to sweet talk me know, after going on and on about another woman," she teased, leaning back into his legs. "So, what happened to Miss Baker? Please tell me the romance lasted beyond second grade."

"Well, you see, it was a pretty unfortunate situation," he drawled, letting himself get swept away by their false drama. "You see, she ended up leaving me for Marvin Jennings."

"Scandalous! She left you for someone named Marvin? Oh Rick, you must have been devastated."

"Oh, I'm not done sweetheart. It gets worse."

"Honestly, I don't see how it could. This is already closing in on being a tragedy of epic proportions."

"You oughta be cryin' instead of makin' fun of me. What she did? What she did still hurts my heart. She left me for the promise of a daily share of Marvin's mama's dessert. His mama was the best baker, so I do understand Trina's choice. At least a little bit. But still, how could she? I'm worth more than a piece of pie right?"

"Damn! Miss Baker was a cold piece!"

"The coldest," he retorted, taking in the twinkle in her eyes.

"Well, if Miss Baker let you touch her hair, she must have seen something special in you," she concluded, laughing as she turned away from him as she leaned back into his legs. "You see the one I did? Just do the same. I promise not to leave you for Marvin and his mama's pie."

Chuckling, Rick gently bent her head forward and grabbed a loc with his fingertips. Looking at the one she'd already re-twisted to give him a frame of reference, he took the wide-toothed comb and slowly combed the short section of hair between her scalp and where the already twisted section began. Once he made a clean sweep of the unlocked hair, he spritzed the loose hair with the lavender oil and God-knows-what-else mix in the spray bottle at his feet, just like Michonne had showed him. Putting the bottle and comb to the side, he carefully twisted the combed hair between his fingers in the same direction as the one Michonne had done. When he finished, he laid the re-twisted loc over her shoulder, using a duck clip to hold it in place as he admired his work.

Reaching to the back of her head, Michonne touched Rick's re-twist, then her own. Not bad. He certainly got an 'A' for effort. She exhaled peacefully, stretching her back, as he began the next one. This ritual had been an every-other-month event at her salon in Atlanta, something she sorely missed. Then, it had been Sasha helping her whenever they ran into a store with products for their hair. It gave her the sense of home, the sense of the familiar. As she placed her hands on his sock covered feet, she realized that he was home and she never wanted to leave.

He'd treated her with all the care and gentleness she could have ever hoped for. First laying her down to smooth lotions across her body. Then making love to her with an aching intensity that left her breathless. He'd made the entire day all about her. All about making her happy. All about fulfilling her needs.

He definitely deserves something just for him.

She drew her knees to her chest as best she could, before spinning around on her bottom to face him. He peered down at her, bemused, the comb held up in mid-air. A mischievous smirk played across her lips as she put both hands on his knees and used them as light leverage to raise to hers. Relaxing her grip, she ran her hands up his bare legs, letting one hand drift into the leg hole of his boxers. She snorted gleefully as his lower half jerked on the bench while simultaneously bringing his hands down to halt her journey.

"Where are you goin' Sweetheart?" he queried, leaning down to drop a kiss on her forehead.

"I'm not sure yet," she murmured, shifting her hand to move his out of the way as she made her way towards her destination. "But I'll let you know when I get there."

He legs trembled and a slow hiss escaped his lips when her soft, warm hand found its way to his member, delicately wrapping her fingers around the base.

"Yeah, I think I'm there," she cooed, gazing adoringly up at him as she used her other hand to pull his boxers down his waist as he eagerly lifted himself up to assist her.

She bent forward, laughing to herself at how her big belly seemed to make everything just a little bit harder. No matter. She was on a mission and anything less that completion would be considered failure. Gripping his rapidly enlarging member, she brought her soft, wet mouth to his dome, landing the lightest, airiest of kisses on top.

His body shook at the sensation. No matter how many times she did this and how enthusiastic her efforts, each time was like the very first. Her hands on him were like an electrical shock he was anticipating, yet somehow always caught him off guard.

He watched as she rolled her tongue around the thick bulb, his essence dripping from the tip, but quickly lapped up by her tongue. She could feel the pulsing of the nubby flesh in her palm, while the attentions from her warm mouth brought his erection to its full, proud length. Thoroughly wetting the head, she lowered her mouth over the length and worked her way down, getting as much of him into her mouth as she could. She palmed her shaft, wanting to take in all that she could, but knowing there were limits.

His singular scent permeated her senses, causing her own hedonistic reaction. She inhaled deeply, her core beginning to pulse as his hands steadily found their way into her locs. Not pulling or pushing, but carefully running his nails across her scalp, the tenderness belaying the eruption simmering within him.

Noting his 'tell,' she began to hum around his length, her head bobbing up and down as she took more and more of him in. Feeling him lift his hips from the bench, she increased her speed, using the thumb of her other hand to trace a line from the base of his member to that special spot just behind his balls. Pausing to stroke the spot, she expertly applied gentle pressure until she heard him grunt, fisting her locs in his hand.

"I'm gonna cum," he warned, trying to back away from her as he untangled his fingers from her hair.

She held him in place, lapping furiously as a loud groan emanated from his pursed lips, pushing her head back as he nearly stood up from the bench with a roar. She stilled as he released, taking in all he gave her until his loud groans morphed into deep, exhausted sighs.

When all was done, she pulled away from him, leaving a loving kiss on his inner thigh. Collecting himself, he pulled her from the floor, tipping them both over the bench, and landing in a shattered pile at the bottom of their bed. Satiated, happy, and clinging blissfully to each other.

…

As the peaceful silence enveloped them, Rick rubbed slow circles onto Michonne's belly, his mind vacillated between his eldest child and the one that would soon make her appearance. Carl had been spending more and more time at the Hilltop with Enid and it would be just a matter of time before he'd want to be there permanently; he'd already said as much on more than a few occasions.

"At some point, you have to let the bird leave the nest," Michonne murmured, sleepy from Rick's gentle touch.

Rick wasn't surprised that she could practically read his mind, even in her sleep. It'd been that way between them for a long time. He knew the prospects of Carl leaving was loaming on the horizon, but it didn't deaden his overwhelming need to keep his children close.

"Yeah, I know," he began, suddenly feeling very emotional as his voice trembled. "If I could keep 'im safe here with us, I'd do it in a heartbeat. But, he's growing up and I– we need to be prepared. He's ready. He's been ready. He's the bravest person I know… aside from present company, of course."

As the peaceful silence enveloped them, Rick's mind went back to how all of this would have played out if their path had been laid out differently.

"He asked me when the right age is to get married," Rick chuckled, shaking his head in disbelieve. "Can you imagine that? He's barely a teenager!"

"Well, the same rules don't apply in this world," she murmured, rubbing his chest to ease a bit of his worry. "It's not fair, but his childhood was shorter than ours. We can't help that. Besides, he's an old soul. He knows what he wants and isn't afraid. I worry too, but I love him even more because of it. He'll be fine."

"Every thought about getting married?" he asked, the left-field question causing her to rise from his chest. "Then… and now. Is it even still a thing in this world? I don't even know."

She stared at him for a few beats before answering, "yeah, I guess it's still a thing. Something like that doesn't ever really go away. It just wasn't that important to me in the old world. Now? I'm not sure. Do we need it?"

"My gramps always said marriage was the road to forever and when you meet the right person, you'll never want the journey to end. You're my right person."

Michonne smiled, tears welling up as tilted her head to welcome his lips to hers, before resting her cheek back onto his chest.

"Married or not," she whispered, his soothing caress lulling her to sleep. "With you, I never ever want this journey to end."

A/N: I'm so sorry for this ridiculously long delay. Life and work, followed by a crushing bout of writer's block and self-doubt got in my way. This chapter was trying to kill my will, so I've split it into 2 parts to make things a bit more manageable. Yup, part one is nearly 9k words. I clearly have issues with moderation. Lol. I hope it makes sense because I really don't even know anymore.

This is meant to be a light, fun look at the past, while they prep for the baby. We've still got to get through a few dark clouds, but it's mostly sunny for the rest of this story.

On the positive side, we're nearing the end of this little tale and the rest is pretty much written. I just need to edit, which is my least favorite part. I promise not to take another 84 years to close this out. As always, thank you for reading!