129 days to present:

"Okay! No, that's totally oka- aw! You too, goodbye now Rose." Mike sighed against the kitchen counter as Michonne bought the piece of toast she was having to her mouth.
"That was?" She questioned, the words a little muffled due to the toast mushed in her mouth.
Chuckling, Mike turned towards the sink and began to clank the plates around rather loudly, "It was Rose, cancelling the session. Apparently 'something came up'." The running of the tap filled the silence as Michonne clawed for something to say. She could tell that Mike was very upset in the moment, the way his shoulders hunched and the blood vessels in his arms found their way to the surface, to press against it as if wanting to escape to the outside world.

Too lightly and she was sure Mike wouldn't respond well. Too rigid, too angry of a response, and he'd just get into a worse mood. It was a nice Saturday, quiet, as Mike had taken it upon himself to drop Andre to his Grandmother's whilst Michonne had gone out to jazz the previous night – where Rick and her had taken it upon themselves to celebrate his new investment.

It was fun to watch him, more intoxicated than he had ever been. A slur in his voice, the sloppiness of his smile warm on her personality, almost complimenting it. He tripped over his words, finding himself enough within his drunken slumber to feel embarrassed about his behaviour and apologise profusely about how ungentlemen like he was being.
'"Rick, it's okay to be that way around me,"' Michonne reached over to pat his thigh, taking into account the tell-tale sign of a jolt breaching her hand as she did so. Throwing her head back into a laugh, Michonne retracted her hand and used it to bring a drink up to her lips.

The night had carried on, looser than it had ever been for either of them. They stood up and clapped haphazardly when the performances were done, and slumped back into their chairs (barely missing the seat) and leaned towards together when they had to talk, as if the world couldn't listen to their conversation.
"Ya know, I'd probably still be as upset as I was the day … before I met you if I hadn't have met you. D'ya understand me?" Rick looked at her helplessly then, eyes droopy with drunkenness and a soft tint to his cheeks that the dim light caught in all of the right places.

And Michonne had swayed softly, before wrapping her arms around him as they sat in their chairs and the dim lighting and their hearts hammered – due to the alcohol, is what they believed.
"You would have made it here anyway Rick-ee!" She squealed, pulling him up with her and making a move for the door. Rick trailed behind her, feeling the warmth of the alcohol and hers mix, turning his palms to fire.

They found themselves walking in circles outside of the venue, using the excuse that they were doing so because the air would sober them up.
"So you and Mike?" His shoulder bumped hers as he walked, zig-zagged and bow legged, looking at the sky that was dusted with stars, as though God had taken a salt-shaker and gone wild. When Michonne didn't reply, her eyes cast to the wet of the ground that allowed the moon to reflect on it, Rick budged her shoulder again. "If you look at the sky enough, you remember that things are so insignificant."

When her eyes didn't leave the floor again, he ran ahead of her a few steps, before standing directly in front of her until she did stop and look up at him. "Even though I'm a little drunk, I know what I'm talking about." He pressed two fingers under her chin and pushed her head towards the sky, his eyes grazing along the soft of her lips.

The rise and fall of her shoulders, followed by the closing of her eyes made his heart slow, but only by a fraction. If he wasn't so in tune with himself, he could have missed it, but he didn't. And that mattered, that was significant. "If you think about how many stars there are, and then how they got there, and how they're part of you, somehow… it makes everything better."

When the silence got too heavy for him, he placed a hand on her shoulder, jolting her back into his reality. "Do it whenever things get hard, between you and Mike. It helped… with Lori and I, it helped me."

The drunken slowness of the world disappeared quickly after that, a new form of drunkness set itself in Rick's bones that he attempted to fight and yet, to his curiosity, couldn't. And yet he followed Michonne, listened to her as she rambled absent-mindedly, adding a self-deprecating joke that he fought against, watching her – observing how nothing in her faltered like it had within him in moments over the night.

They eventually ended the night when their cabs arrived, suffocating each other in a death hug at their success. At the small steps of growth they had made together.
"Get home safe." She whispered, snuggling into the back of the taxi.
"You too 'chonne." He had replied, softly, almost reaching for the door himself.

"You know," Mike interrupted the flashback that had unfolded in front of Michonne, causing her hand to flinch at the sudden pull back to reality. "You don't seem all that bothered."
When Michonne casted a look towards him from the sofa, allowing a feeling to burn on his back, he began again. "My mother isn't happy about our situation, you know?" The flustered hints in his tone caused her shoulders to tense.

It was an odd relationship between Michonne and her mother law. It had been from the very moment Mike had introduced her as a girlfriend – but was never like that when she was simply a 'friend'.
"The same Mother that you practically had to convince it was a good idea to marry me?" Her tongue began to roll. "Or the same mother that wondered how you could be attracted to someone 'not so fair' in her words, if I recall."

Mike sighed, turning to face her and resting his back on the edge of the sink. "I told you those things ages ago, she's changed now." The rise of Michonne's eyebrow from the sofa let him know she didn't fully believe him, resulting in him folding his arms and shaking his head.
They stayed staring at each other in silence then, waiting for something more to be said. Michonne was waiting for words that were delicate enough to move on the conversation, without making it look intentional – whilst the cogs in Mike's mind wanted to rip through everything, dangerously and all too fast and all too soon.

So he did.

"Maybe she's right. She thinks I'm staying out of guilt. She thinks your staying because of Andre." When he paused and Michonne didn't reply, he almost did a double take looking at her then. Properly. For the first time in months – which he hated admitting to himself in the moment.
And it scared him, to see her, so bright. It shouldn't have, because that was selfish, but there she was, shining like she hadn't for longer than he'd care to admit due to his actions. Mike was mad, acknowledging that part of the reason was due to another male – but how could he say that in a way that didn't flare her up, considering why they were in the situation they were in.

"Well do you believe that I'm staying for Andre?" Her eyes moved to the point between his eyebrows, not looking him in the eyes as her hand-picked absent-mindedly at the fluff on the sofa. They gulped the air as if it was the last amount they'd get before diving too deep.

Eventually, Mike placed himself next to her in the silence and pulled her into a soft hug. They stayed like that, the clock ticking in the background as their lives wasted away into each other second by second, until she felt his shoulders hiccup.


Michonne stay tapping her feet as she stood in the vegetable and fruits isle, wondering about the contents of the fridge and if there such a thing as too many apples.

When she had felt the shake of his shoulders, her stomach lining had crumbled, she felt the weight of her soul collapsed into her.

It had been the feeling of guilt that got to her. Did she give out that vibe? She knew it was her initial intention, and had been the set reminder whenever she felt his mind was wondering too far away in front of her. But… Michonne had thought it hadn't been that intense, so obvious in the atmosphere.
And the fact that his mother – his mother – had figured part of her out infuriated her. That woman couldn't be right, not by Michonne. That meant she was becoming too transparent.

It was the same guilt that had let their lips lock together and led them to their room; where Michonne rushed where Mike attempted to slow, their hips were mismatched and they both finished, but dissatisfied.
She had left him sleeping, writing on a post it note that she realised the fridge and freezer were near empty.

So here she stood, unsure of herself and her decisions, so much so that picking up fruit and vegetables were hard enough.
"Looks like you're really struggling there," the Southern twang made her jump in her skin, allowing Rick's lips to birth a chuckle between them. She turned to look at him, a heat finding her cheeks that she was thankful he couldn't see – that she questioned for appearing also. "Who would have thought a lawyer would have a hard time making decisions, eh?" His cheeky smile formed goofy on his face as he sauntered towards her, bow-legged and all, carrying his own shopping basket as he reached over to pick the exact apples she probably would have, had she been paying attention.

"Oh ha ha, you're so funny Rick, who would have guessed it?" Reaching out with her spare arm she drew him into a hug, taking into account the feeling of his growing beard against her cheek. "I see someone is really going for the artist look." She joked as they parted from each other, her left hand found the side of his face to softly scratch at it.
When she removed her hand, Rick's replaced where it had been placed and he rubbed at it absent-mindedly as they began to walk down the isle.

"Well, according to Jessie, she thinks trying to grow it out isn't a bad idea. Did you know beards were in now?" Michonne laughed at his disbelief, leading them towards the milk isle. They bantered back and forth a bit, Michonne reminding him that he looked good anyhow and Rick not taking the compliment without some sort of line that condescended him.

"So where's Mike?" They were nearing the end of the shop, having danced around each other and prolonged the conversation by comparing every little item they came across and put into their bags – Michonne's knowledge of food content amazed him just a little bit. "Did you have your session today?"

Her mind clogged, fogged, hazed, any word that can be used to describe the slowing of a brain and all it's functions. It was as though she felt ashamed, that no they didn't go, but yes something happened. And the fact that it did happen should have meant progress, but it didn't. And she felt as though everything she presented to Rick was tainted, that although he was aware that majority of her reason for staying Andre, that maybe he thought she was still in love with Mike.

Which worried her.

Which shouldn't have worried her.

But it did as they placed their shopping at the tills opposite each other.

"I'll message you about it later." Was her final response as they both carried their bags out of the store. Her body language seemed different, more slumped than usual, her spine curved in places Rick could observe were unusual. Michonne often stood tall, sure of herself, but it felt off and he could sense it. It's like coming home and realising the television has been moved by an inch and there's no other way you can explain it.

"You know, if you're in no rush, you can stop by mine. A good drink solves everything." So there she stood, about to reject him, her arms aching from the bags she carried that were too heavy. And she almost did, until the sun hit him in all the right ways and made his eyes sparkle like a pool in the summer, like the patterns on the tile that moved like something rhythmic.


"Now, this is my mum's best 'cold drink recipe' – what she calls it, we've never changed the name – so you better like it." Rick handed her a tall glass with a slide of lemon that sat on the edge. Michonne smiled, her fingertips catching his at the exchange of the glass and he watched, a small ache forming in him that he pushed and pushed down inside him at the sight of her lips on the glass.

If he was honest, he was more vigilant with her than he had ever been – and not in a good way. It may have been out of frustration. As much as he had been beginning to somewhat like Jessie, the readiness that she presented with him didn't… turn him on (which was not to say she was unattractive herself). He liked the chase, the unknowing of whether to place your hand here or there, the small jolts of electricity when you finally get those hand placements right. That feeling of a chase presented itself whenever Michonne was around, made him correct his eyes from the small of her back to the back of her head, because he was ashamed that if someone saw the ring on her finger and the tanned space on his, they would think the worst of him.

In all honesty, he hadn't got his rocks off in a while and he didn't want to do it out of lust – especially lust due to somebody else. Even more-so knowing that crossing that boundary with Jessie would be a permanent change between them and he still needed to figure out whether they stood in a good enough position to go there.

"It's good, tell her I love it next time she calls." Michonne kicked off her shoes and drew her legs onto the sofa, prompting Rick to sit beside her and spread his legs out onto the nearby coffee table, avoiding the small paint pots dotted at the edge. "So," Michonne nodded towards them, "Do I get to view some paintings?"

Rick smirked, bringing the opening of a beer bottle to his lips. "You may be a best friend, but you're not that special." She smacked at his arm playfully, causing some of the beer he was drinking to dribble from his mouth.

Rick licked his lips to catch the spills, forcing Michonne to look away, pretending to be interested in the walls, pretending to not be imagining small things – that she thought was very very normal, because who doesn't fantasise about attractive people, even just a little bit at times? Even if they are your best friend?

"Hey, why isn't Carl here? You usually have him on weekends."

"Well, you'll be happy to know I have a date with Jessie planned tonight. I'm really trying to get to know her, before… taking any major steps." Michonne nodded as she took a sip of a drink.
"So… if you do it, it's serious with her, huh?" Rick nodded. "That's not too bad then, at least you guys will have built a rapport, getting to know each other's little quirks, especially if you talk about them."

Rick shook his head, biting his tongue. Michonne watched his jaw line move as he tried to find words to say. "You know, I don't believe I'm telling you this, but I don't feel like I'd have to talk to her much to know. In some ways… she reminds me of Lori and that means 'vanilla'. And there are days I like vanilla and days where…" He trailed off, filling his mouth with beer the second he could, facing the wall as Michonne watched the pink on his ears grow brighter and brighter.

"Who would have thought you were a little kinky?" Michonne joked, reaching over to clink her glass with his beer bottle.
"Michonne, do you have to put it like that?" She laughed even harder, using her spare hand to pat his thigh.
"It's okay, you're not the only one. I don't mind a little hair pulling or smacking where it's necessary." Her playful tone had already set the atmosphere, but the wink that followed amplified it.

"I would have expected nothing less from you." His eyes found hers and she could almost see something in them that made her hesitate, that made her ring finger burn, but she ignored it. Smothered the guilt into a place that she would revisit at night when she was unsure of her actions and unsure of the man sleeping beside her and unsure of the constant pangs of fire she felt when Rick touched her bare skin. "I mean, you seem like you'd be up for exploring almost anything, and that's not a bad thing at all. You know, friend to friend."

She blinked back at him, as his head lowered to look at his drink and broke the eye contact. "So you're telling me it was just missionary?"
"And some cow-girl!" He exclaimed, trying to save himself.
"Well… find out whether your girl Jessie is vanilla because it seems like you've got some pent-up emotions that can be taken out veeerrryyyy aggressively." Michonne smiled into her glass as she sucked up an ice cube, moving it around her mouth as Rick's eyes flickered to the moistness that guarded her lips.

It was hard not to imagine each other with all this new information. It was as though a light bulb had blinked on in one small department of their subconscious, allowing it to be found in that very moment. On a couch sat two friends attracted to each other, respectful still, yet attracted to each other. And somewhat fantasising, with a small amount of temptation in their veins to ask whether the other was doing the same thing too. Their breaths quickened, and so did their heart rate and they were aware of it, of the increased movement of their chest.

It was easy for Michonne to look at his hands and imagine the strength in them, imagine the look of his veins when he pulled the trigger on a gun, imagine if they'd look the same as they aided in lifting her up and pinning her against the wall.

It was even easier for Rick – sexually frustrated as he was – to imagine the different things they could try. How it would be possible for what used to be a rare event of making love from behind to be frequent with her, and enjoyable, due to the soft plump of her ass against him. How soft and warm she would be. How attentive she would be to his needs since they were so in tune already.

And then it dawned on them how easy it really was to think of each other.

Then how it shouldn't be so easy.

So they cleared their throats, watched each other, then laughed.

Unsure as to whether they were unhappy that neither had said a thing about what they were thinking.


A/N: I'm sorry it took me so long to update. I hope that everyone is doing okay and reading other great Richonne fanfiction.

I just wanted to say that I've had some really negative comments from a particular guest account (which is weak anyway, hiding behind a guest account) BUT I have also had x100 support compared to that, alongside private messages and it feels wonderful.

I hope you can stay along the ride for this story, I have plans for it, I just need you guys to hold on a little bit longer.