Leaning against the hood of the run van, Rick shivered as a cool breeze swept past the Washington Monument, making him feel foolish for not dressing in warmer clothing. It was easy to forget how the weather had turned given that the sun was still shining brightly, and this area was always particularly windy anyway. They were a little early as usual, and though they'd only been waiting for ten minutes Rick felt impatient, though too proud to admit his weakness by getting back in the van. He thought about Carrie who well accustomed to the cooler weather, who had worn only a light shirt that day and was perfectly content. He on the other hand was less so, and wasn't looking forward to his first winter in Washington DC.

Only a few short months had passed since the day they evacuated the quarry herd, the day when the Wolves and Negan's men attacked. They had lost many people that day, and in the quieter moments when no one could hear him Rick was thankful that it was not his children who had died, his wife or family who had been killed. At the time he hadn't been able to dwell on any of it, too busy cleaning up the destruction and mess that had been wreaked upon their community. Walkers had to be burnt along with the corpses of the Wolves, their people were buried…blood scrubbed from the pavement. It had taken days before the community could return to their homes, and weeks before the damage was repaired and a small sense of normalcy began to return.

At this thought Rick looked over at Daryl who stood on watch, a cigarette balanced between his lips while he held Carl's crossbow ready. His eyes focused on the burning cigarette, immediately feeling the need to take out one of his own, to occupy himself with the soothing taste of the tobacco. But he couldn't anymore…he had given up, for real this time. Trying to ignore the desire he looked at the back of Daryl's leather vest, the faded angel wings marred by the knife plunged into the back of his shoulder. Two months had passed since the herd broke out and the Wolves attacked, two months since Daryl, Abraham and Sasha had been held up by a biker gang. Luckily the injury Daryl sustained was only minor, and even luckier still they had all made it through that encounter alive.

The group that attacked them had lingered in the back of Rick's mind ever since he learned of it, as did the name Negan. The pair who stole Daryl's motorcycle and crossbow had been fleeing Negan's group, running for their lives. This group…they knew almost nothing about them except that they were organised and well off, having the means and opportunity to hunt people down and hold them up. At the time they had been closing in on Alexandria, they were already in the vicinity. There was no doubt in Rick's mind that these were dangerous people, and that Alexandria needed to be ready to fight them.

Security had been stepped up another notch, it absolutely had to be. Alexandria had survived the Wolf attack admirably, and although there had been lives lost the community defended itself well. More people had survived than would have before Rick's group arrived, he was proud of that. Now they needed to step it up again. There would be more where those Bikers came from, and they'll be wanting revenge for what happened to their people. But Alexandria were going to be prepared for them, and nothing was being left to chance.

Though it wouldn't have prevented the Wolves attack, the losses they sustained bolstered them to finally get back to work on the security cameras outside the walls. For too long they had delayed installing the fourth camera, feeling that the southern side was adequately covered by the watch tower, that it was too dangerous to be outside putting it all together. But when the herd eventually dispersed from the community and the residents returned, Rick had set his people straight to work. Supply runs were made, and many hours were spent in the woods digging trenches to bury the cables, yards and yards of waterproofing required to protect them from moisture. It took them three weeks of working every day, but eventually they had a total of eight cameras set up in the immediate vicinity, providing a three hundred and sixty degree view of the world outside them. There were no blindspots from which they could be taken by surprise.

The addition of these camera's hadn't negated the need to be vigilant, and if anything had added to the burden of keeping their surroundings monitored at all times. There were four watch posts and the security feed to be manned at all times, day and night, and although it was an increasing burden given their depleted population, not one person had shown any reluctance to getting the shifts covered. The community knew what was at stake, they knew what they had to protect and how quickly they could lose it all. Shelly's house was now the central hub for their security feed, the only use they could give to the house that had been partially demolished by the Wolves' semi-trailer. There was too much work required to make it comfortable for people to live in, but with a little effort and some compromises it was now safe enough to be inside of, safe enough to house the security cameras in their newly dubbed control room.

Sensing a change Rick looked around, and before it came into his line of sight he knew what to expect. Looking towards the Capitol building on his left he waited for a moment, and then a familiar truck emerged from behind the trees, ambling towards them like it did every two weeks. When they first started these meetings Richard's group would arrive on horseback and come from a different direction entirely, efforts that Rick suspected were an attempt to hide the direction in which they lived. Now however with precious gasoline to conserve it seemed they took the most direct route from Palmyra where they allegedly lived. Last month he had overheard Colton complaining about the frustration of conserving gasoline, and though he sympathised Rick didn't offer to help. Their tanker full of gasoline hijacked from the burnt forrest was an incredibly precious resource…one that he didn't want Richard to know about just yet.

The first meeting with Richard after the quarry broke out had been tense. Alexandria was still on edge, wounded from the Wolves attack and paranoid about Negan's men. For some time many of them had suspected that Richard's group was behind that, though this suspicion died down soon after their first meeting. Though things were tense, the only concern of Richards' seemed to be the quarry, and he seemed furious that it had broken out before his group could help intervene. That was what made things tense that day, Rick on edge and ready for an argument to break out. Though he had promised he would, he had no intention of holding off evacuating the quarry until Richard's group were able to help. In the end their hand had been forced, making it an honest truth when he told him what had happened…but that didn't stop Richard being infuriated.

That day Rick had almost walked away from their meeting, completely ready to tell his group to fall back to their vehicles and get the hell out of there. He didn't need this bullshit, he didn't need Richard breathing down his neck and questioning why they didn't stop the herd, why they didn't try harder to contain it. He didn't even care to know what was so urgent about sending it north rather than west, he was just done with it all. Instead he quickly changed the subject, bluntly asking Richard if he had anything to do with the biker gang, if he was responsible for sending them. In an instant the atmosphere changed, Richard turning from angry to shocked. For a long moment he stood there in silence, taking in Rick's accusation and trying to make sense of it.

"Do we look like a biker gang?" Richard questioned, gesturing to the his group behind him.

"Did you have any involvement in that? Yes or no?" Rick repeated himself, looking Richard in the eye for any sign of guilt.

"No," he said firmly, those around him giving a nod of consensus. "That wasn't us."

"Who was it then?" Rick continued questioning. "Who is Negan?"

Richard furrowed his brow, leaning back a little. "Negan? Who the fuck is Negan?"

Still holding Richard's gaze, Rick looked at him long and hard, unable to get a read on him. He didn't know if this man was being truthful or not, he couldn't gauge anything from him. Moving on he turned to the others there, looking them in the eye and holding their gaze. They all shook their heads or shrugged their shoulders, apparently oblivious to the name he had mentioned, to the people who had nearly killed them.

With little evidence upon which to reject their offer of a trade relationship, Rick was forced to let it go, to believe them while still being cautious. It had taken some time for the relationship to grow comfortable, for although Richard went to the extent of thanking Rick for the heads up about this other group, still he was unsettled. He couldn't blame himself for feeling this way. A lot had happened to them in a very short period, they had lost so much. But they had to make things work with the new group…they couldn't afford for them to harbour any ill will towards Alexandria.

For two months now they had traded harmoniously, the hiccup of the quarry and Negan's men not forgotten, but set aside for the sake of the relationship. So far the arrangement was mutually beneficial, both sides apparently getting things they needed while giving what they could spare, though Rick suspected more and more that it was Richard's group who were better off. While Alexandria asked for medicine, contraception and tampons, Richard's requests were a little more luxurious. DVDs and music, a couple of car parts and hypoallergenic laundry detergent, sprits and wine. It was Alexandria who needed this relationship the most, and both parties knew it.

The imbalance of power made Rick a little nervous, and he had been waiting for the trades to become more difficult. Richard knew that Alexandria were weaker in terms of supplies, it was the perfect opportunity for them to take advantage of this by raising the stakes, by demanding more in exchange for less. But so far that hadn't happened. Richard's requests had always been perfectly manageable, and on the few occasions that Rick's group had to refuse their requests it hadn't been an issue.

Like usual Richard's truck came to a stop on the other side of the monument, and all five occupants filed out and raised their hands in a friendly greeting. By now Rick knew their routine as well as his own, and he watched on as the group of five congregated together for a moment. Seconds later two were sent to keep watch on the other side of the Monument, while Richard, Dianne and Colton came forward to Rick's group.

"How is everyone?" Richard asked pleasantly. With a warm smile he extended his hand to Rick. "Rick? How are you?"

"I'm well, thank you," he said, shaking Richard's hand as his group muttered words to the same effect. "Yourself?"

Richard sighed, looking a little tired. "We've had a good week I suppose…we had a bad breach. There was a lot of work to get things back up and running."

"I hope everyone's alright?"

Smiling, Richard nodded. "Yeah, they are." There was a brief pause now, Richard tilting his head as he looked at him. "Did you get married?"

The yellow gold ring he now wore on his left hand was a clear give away, though he hadn't realised Richard was so perceptive."Yes. Two weeks ago."

"Congratulations," Richard said sincerely, the sentiment echoed by Dianne and Colton. "The lucky gal?" he asked, looking between Michonne and Lana.

"I tried my hardest," Lana piped up. "But no luck for me."

"She's not here," Rick answered. "And thank you."

"I get what the champagne was for now," Dianne said, looking satisfied to have figured something out. "We thought it was odd that you asked for alcohol when you seemed to have enough of your own."

"It was alcohol-free champagne he needed," Colton reminded her. He turned to Rick now, jesting. "You been robbing cradles for your bride?"

"Not quite," he said politely. Wanting to steer the conversation away from Carrie, he quickly changed the subject by gesturing to his group's van. "Fifty glass jars with matching lids, various sizes, and one hundred and eighteen beer bottles. We've engraved them with an A so you'll know which ones to return after the winter."

Recognising his request to get on with things, Richard nodded along. "Does that leave you with enough for yourselves? It can be hard to grow food through the winter, you'll need to be preserving what you have."

"We'll make do with what we have, thank you." He removed a small box from his satchel and passed it to Richard "An oscillating shuttle, as requested. It should fit your sewing machine just fine."

"That's it," Dianne confirmed, taking the box and opening it to look inside. "That's exactly it. Thank you."

While Michonne and Lana unloaded the glass jars, Rick continued reciting what they had brought for them. "We brought shoe laces, middle school biology books, and some more scrap metal. Have you brought what we asked for?"

Nodding in agreement, Richard and Colton turned away and headed for the back of the truck, leaving Rick standing alone with Dianne. For a few moments there was comfortable silence as the two groups made their exchange, Rick watching from the corner of his eye to check every item exchanged. While the glass jars and bottles were on loan, the shoe laces, biology books and scrap metal were exchanged for a Physician's Desk Reference, more contraception, some rolls of cable and barbed wire, and finally a pack of broad spectrum antibiotics. As this last item was exchanged Rick released the breath he was holding, but felt relief for only a moment. There was a two week delay between their trade meetings, meaning that the antibiotics asked for were no longer needed…they wouldn't be enough.

In no time at all the trade was completed, Daryl climbing down from the back of Richard's truck having loaded up all of the jars. As he walked back around he gave a familiar cough, one that Rick recognised as a subtle call for attention. He looked at him just in time to notice what he was gesturing to, a small but discernible hole in the wooden slats that made up the rear enclosure. From the corner of his eye he studied it, noticing now another hole in the lower right corner of the passenger door. As he studied them he wondered if it was paranoia that told him they were bullet holes, or experience.

"That's all agreed on then, yes?" Richard asked, although each of their vehicles were already loaded with their trade. Their work completed the two groups congregated with their own, still more comfortable sticking close to their own.

"Yes, it's agreed," Rick confirmed, shaking Richard's hand when he extended it. "Let's talk about the next trade. What do you need from us?"

At this Richard pulled a scrap of paper from his pocket. "How are you in the way of assorted chemicals?"

"We have some," Rick answered cautiously, interested to know what they were looking for.

"This is a list of what we'd like, it never hurts to stock up. Only if you can spare them that is."

Rick nodded politely, but he wasn't happy with what had been requested. He had been depending on Richard needing something in particular, urgently needing something that Alexandria could supply. His request needed some leverage behind it…he needed something to give them.

"We're hoping you've got some PS3 or Xbox games?" Colton asked eagerly. "Any at all?"

"We have some."

"If you bring them next time we'll look through them. Maybe borrow some for a little while. Our selection is…

"Well used," Dianne supplied.

"I was going to say boring."

"We'll bring some video games," Rick agreed, hiding his impatience. "What else do you want?"

"How are your people for fire wood?" Richard asked now, sounding concerned. "Last winter was mild, but I think it's gonna be a real bitch this year. You got enough to get you through?"

"We're fine for firewood. Anything else you need?" he pressed again.

"Well, we're fine for firewood too," Dianne said. "But we could use some fire extinguishers. Can you spare any Class A?"

"For ordinary combustibles? We've got some we can spare."

A murmur of relief swept Richard's group. "Every winter some idiot gets too close to the fireplace, or knocks over a lantern. It's like clockwork, I swear."

Dianne nodded in exasperation. "Yeah, and with the wall breach the other day we used four extinguishers trying to contain the fire. We'll take whatever you can spare."

Finally Rick felt like he had found some leverage, he had something Richard's group had a genuine need for. "We can get you some fire extinguishers, some fire blankets too if you want them."

"Thank you," Richard said sincerely, looking happy with this. Now there was a brief pause, he and Rick looking at each other. "What will they cost us? What do you need?"

For a moment Rick paused, wishing that he didn't have to ask for this, that it wasn't necessary. "I need to bring someone to your doctors. As soon as possible."

Not to Rick's surprise, Richard seemed quite taken aback by this. For two months now he occasionally had made mention of the fact his group had experienced doctors, but this was the first time Rick had shown any interest in taking him up on the offer of visiting them. There was a long pause, and though it wasn't tense by any means, Rick waited with his breath held.

"They're not miracle workers," he began gently, his voice soft. "If someone's dying of cancer or an amputation, then I'm afraid they're dying with or without us. There's only so much they can do."

"But they can do something?" Michonne asked, speaking for the first time all morning. "We've already had our miracle. We just need it…cleaned up a little."

"What is it exactly?" Dianne asked, her voice already laced with well meaning sympathy.

"It's my son," Rick explained, the following words always difficult for him to say out loud. "Five months ago he was shot in the face and lost his right eye. Since then it's just always been something…" he trailed off now, unable to verbalise that he could no longer watch his son suffering. "We need a second opinion on his treatment."

"He was shot in the face?" Richard exclaimed, his brow furrowed in dismay. "Shot in the face, and he survived?"

"Like I said," Michonne muttered. "We had our miracle already."

Richard's group muttered under their breaths in disbelief, horrified by what they had learned. Further back the two on watch had noticed the change of atmosphere, and were cautiously looking over their shoulders to make sure all was well.

"What exactly are we going to be facing?" Dianne asked. "The more we can tell our guys, the better prepared they can be to see him."

Rick hesitated for a moment, and then reluctantly opened a pouch on his duty belt to remove a polaroid photograph. Carl already hated the fact that Denise kept a photographic journal of his injury, but he would be furious to know Rick had taken one and shared it with strangers. "That's for your doctor," he said, passing the polaroid to Richard. "For yours and their eyes only."

Richard pressed his lips into a thin line as he looked at the picture, staring at it without reaction while Dianne and Colton struggled to hide their horror. Dianne swore under her breath again, shifting her weight between her feet as she turned away from the picture, unable to look at it anymore.

"Who…who saved him from that?"

"We have a doctor, she saved his life when it happened," he said, firmly believing that without Denise Carl would have died. "But she's inexperienced. She's already said that this injury is beyond her…she doesn't know what to do next."

"Tha-"

"When can you bring him to us?" Richard interjected. He pocketed the image and then looked Rick in the eye, holding his gaze.

"I could have him back here in two hours."

Richard glanced at Colton and Dianne, a silent conversation being held between the three of them. It was insightful to observe, reminding Rick that they were as close knit as his own group.

"Does it have to be now, or can it wait until the morning?"

Rick nodded.

"Tomorrow then," Richard decided. "You can meet our leader, our doctors. Pack a bag and stay a few days."

"That's very generous of you," Rick said kindly, not allowing himself to feel prematurely relieved. They didn't yet have a formal agreement in place.

"Is there anyone else?" Richard asked next. "Anyone else who you should bring to our doctors?"

"There may be one or two more."

"Bring them."

With a deep breath Rick looked away, bracing himself for the hardest part. "What's this going to cost us? For my son? For the others?"

Again Richard looked to his people, all three of them sharing a silent conversation of which they were all in agreement. A moment later he turned back to Rick and extended his hand.

"If they need help, just bring them," was all he said. "No charge."

For a painful moment Rick hesitated, every bad experience with other people telling him not to do it, to avoid putting his son at risk. He was bringing his child to a group of people who in reality were strangers, who could be formulating any kind of terrible plot against them. He had no idea what he was walking into…this could be another Terminus, it could be Woodberry. Or, it could like Alexandria, the salvation in which he was now raising his family. Struggling with his decision he glanced back at the small holes in the exterior of Richard's vehicle, still suspecting they were bullet holes.

Without looking up at his group, for he knew exactly what they wanted him to do, Rick took Richard's hand and shook it, agreeing to his offer.

The sky was darkening as Carrie pulled on her lightweight coat and holstered her gun, Rick waiting for her out on the porch. As she prepared to leave she looked into the kitchen where Carl was making himself a sandwich while Daryl was supervising Judith as she ploughed through her dinner. Her birthday cake was hidden in the back of the refrigerator, but other than that it had been a fairly standard evening at home…even Rick suggesting they take a walk was perfectly normal, though tonight she had her suspicions that there was something at play.

"Come on," Rick hurried her. "You're letting the cold air inside."

Doing as she was told, Carrie farewelled the others and then left, hearing Judith's halfhearted murmur of farewell. Closing the door behind herself she straightened her coat and then reached for Rick's hand, slipping it into hers as they set off on a leisurely stroll together.

"This is a great distraction, thank you," she said quietly as they walked past Jessie's house. Two months later it had been thoroughly cleaned of the horror that happened there, but still it remained unoccupied.

"Distraction?" he asked innocently.

"You know…"

Rick gave a short sigh, looking at her in exasperation. "Don't tell Carl you figured it out, he'll be pissed."

"I won't tell him," she promised, having had no intention of spoiling his effort.

"So, what gave it away?"

"Difficult to say. Between Daryl stuffing birthday candles into his pockets at the Pantry, and Carl being secretive all day, it hard to pick what gave it away. Besides, someone told Eugene. Everyone knows he can't keep a secret."

"You don't mind? It's just a little party."

"I don't mind one bit," she said, squeezing his hand in hers. "It's nice, thank you."

"They won't stay too late," he said softly, his free hand resting on his duty belt as they walked. "We have to be ready for tomorrow. We're leaving by eight o'clock at the latest."

She was disappointed that they were onto this subject already, but she didn't blame him for bringing it up. When they returned home she could go back into birthday mode, she could enjoy the happiness and peace she had come to know. But for now at least this needed to be discussed, not that it hadn't already been discussed at great length. When they came home from the trade meeting in Washington it had been the first thing Rick said, that Richard's group had accepted his request to bring Carl to their doctor. From there the plans were swiftly put together, a meeting called to organise who was going to stay behind and who was accompanying them into unknown territory.

"Do you think he's nervous?" Carrie asked in concern. "Carl?"

Rick nodded, the crease of skin between his eyes forming as his worries returned. "He's put up with this wound for so long, and now to find out if it can be treated or not…I think he's nervous as hell."

She was in complete agreement, she too sharing Carl's nerves. Their family had been talking for weeks about the possibility of Carl seeing another doctor, Rick trying to gauge his feelings on the matter. While at first Carl had been eager to go through with this, as the reality of visiting a new group of people they didn't know began to set in so too did his caution. He could see the risks, acknowledging that any attempt to get him better health care could ultimately lead his group into a trap. It was something that kept Rick and Carrie up at night, talking it through in the darkness, trying to come up with a solution. For a while their plans had been to take someone else with a minor ailment to Richard's doctor, to use that as an opportunity to see for themselves what the people were like. But in the last week or so Carl had become sick again, the tissue in his wound dying a rate that Denise couldn't keep up with. There was so much to weigh up, and Carrie hated seeing his turmoil. Rick was caught, struggling between keeping his child safe and keeping him healthy.

"If it makes any difference, you know I think you're making the right choice."

"It makes a difference," he quietly acknowledged. A cool breeze swept through Alexandria, one that prompted them to walk a little closer to one another. "Thank you."

"Who else is going with you?"

"A whole heap. Denise is a definite, she wants to come for Carl. Michonne, Daryl, Abraham and Rosita, Carol I think…Michael, Anna, Lana, Vetor, Mitchell. I think that's everyone."

"That leaves enough strength at home?" she asked, though she had no doubt in his plans.

"Yes. Tara, Glenn, Sasha and Mina will take the watch posts, Tobin and Spencer will monitor the surveillance cameras. Everyone is going to be on full alert, ready for anything."

"Good. It's a big group you're taking with you though…are you trying to intimidate them?"

"No," he said, scratching his short beard a little. "It's more about putting on a show, showing them our strength in numbers. If things go well Anna and Rosita want to see their doctor too, see if they can train Denise to insert IUDs."

"You definitely have the strength in numbers," she agreed, choosing her words and tone carefully. "Michonne, Daryl, Lana…you're not taking any weak links, not even Anna's a weak link anymore."

There was a long pause, Rick looking at the walls as they made their way past the townhouses, and then he responded. "You want to come," he stated.

"We talked about it…didn't we?"

"You weren't sure you wanted to make the trip. Not yet, anyway."

"You sound confident about this. Everyone does," she emphasised. "You always said the hardest part was getting them to agree to your visit and having the supplies to pay for any treatment…we got past that hurdle. They were eager, weren't they? They didn't give any resistance at all when you asked them."

"No."

"Is that what worries you? They were too keen on the idea?"

"No…that doesn't worry me. I didn't get that impression."

"Then what does worry you?"

He was silent for so long she wondered if he hadn't heard her question, but she could tell by the way his brow was furrowed that he was thinking, mulling over his thoughts. "I don't know what worries me…that's what worries me."

"I get it. It sounds too good to be true."

"It's not even that, it's just…I just don't know."

Carrie didn't say anymore, knowing that he rarely struggled with indecision, but when he did it paralysed him. If he couldn't make up his mind about something, pestering him for a decision was only going to make it harder for him to determine what he felt. Their slow walk brought them through the park space beside Gabriel's church, the very spot where they had been married two weeks ago. Carl had carved their new initials into the tree below which Aaron took their photographs, the best of which were now framed on their nightstands and in the living room. It was there that they settled onto the park bench, sitting side by side and still holding hands.

"Are you asking for my permission to go, or for my blessing?"

Carrie mulled over this question, giving serious consideration to her answer. "A little of both…but mainly your blessing."

At this he gave a heavy sigh, though she knew he appreciated her honesty. Though her body and choices belonged to only to her, she had come to understand the impact it had on him, that he was as equally invested in the life and wellbeing of their baby. He deserved at least some input into whether or not she joined them tomorrow, whether or not they risk their baby's safety in order to ensure their health. Denise was a thorough and careful doctor, she had cared for and delivered Herschel with great success, but she would be the first to admit that if a more experienced opinion was available, it should be taken.

"Carrie," he began slowly, putting his arm around her shoulder and moving closer. "If you want to go tomorrow, I won't try to stop you. We can make it work."

"What do you mean, make it work?" she questioned, wondering if he would try to enforce overly obtrusive terms and conditions.

"You'll wear a coat, your warmer one," he murmured, his fingers picking at the fabric of the one she wore now. "They don't need to know you're pregnant until we know it's safe to trust them. We shouldn't give them anymore opportunity to hold something against us."

"I think that's a good idea," she agreed, glad he didn't intend to make her wait in the car with a guard or something like that. "You're right. We don't need to give them an opportunity to take advantage."

As night fell and Rick checked his watch to ensure they were giving their family enough time, Carrie settled further against his side and brought her feet up onto the bench. She didn't feel particularly cold at the moment, and so she unzipped her coat and set her hand on her belly, liking the way it bulged out a little more prominently from the way she sat. At the moment her shape was still small enough to be hidden beneath a coat, but prominent enough that she could proudly show it of, that she could enjoy the way her shirts tightened and conformed to its shape.

Despite her aversion to the stretch marks and some other pregnancy symptoms she tried not to dwell on, she was coming to find that she liked the change in her body, that she was enjoying it so far. Rick too seemed to like it, he being the only one she allowed to touch her belly uninvited. While others had learnt to ask her permission first (a standard Maggie had encouraged her to enforce), she liked it when Rick brushed his hand over her belly, the way he touched her as they sat on the couch together or passed one another by. While she'd never harboured concern that he wouldn't be attracted to her anymore, she loved how invested he was, how eagerly he came to the ultrasounds and passionately debated the choice of name.

She smiled as she felt a tumbling sensation in her lower belly, and she reached down to press her hands against the place the movement came from. This sensation was the most commonly felt right now, for she didn't often feel or notice an actual kick. When she did it was more like a gentle twinge, something that made her frown in confusion until she paid attention and felt it again. If Maggie's experience was anything to go by one day soon those little twinges would develop into full blown kicks, the type that would make her squirm in discomfort and frustration. She remembered the day of Maggie's baby shower, her horrified fascination upon seeing Maggie's belly actually moving. Completely used to it, she put up with Herschel's movements until she couldn't take it anymore, and she gave her belly a firm push to make him stop, begging him to settle for just a little while.

When the movements continued she nudged Rick's leg to get his attention, noticing that he had been in deep thought. He looked around at her in concern, drawn from his thoughts to give her his full attention, but his features softened when she took his hand in hers. Moving around to properly reach, he let her press his hand against the front of her belly, his lips curving into a smile when he felt what she could. For a few happy minutes they sat in silence exactly like that, Rick patiently waiting for the baby to move again. When it became apparent that it had settled for now he reluctantly took his hand back, allowing her to zip her coat while he pressed his lips to the side of her forehead.

"I'm sorry, but I really don't like Meredith."

She didn't bother to hide the roll of her eyes, knowing he couldn't see it in the dim light anyway. "Yeah, I know. It's okay." Now that he had raised the subject she thought about something she had been meaning to ask, something she wasn't sure if he would answer honestly. "You know, you haven't suggested many girl's names. Are you hoping for a boy?"

At this comment Rick looked around at her, hastening to answer. "No. I'm not hoping for one in particular."

"It's okay if you are," she said sincerely.

"I'm not," he insisted, looking her in the eye. "I have a son and a daughter, this third baby is just a bonus. Are you?"

Carrie shrugged without immediate commitment, wondering if her honest answer made her a bad person. "I actually…I keep thinking that it's a boy," she said softly. "I haven't asked Denise, but I just…it's just what I'm thinking right now."

"Oh yeah?" he asked in interest. "A boy?"

"Maybe." At this she felt a burst of excitement inside herself, the same type she had felt the first time she noticed the baby move. "A little boy like Herschel would be nice. He's sweet when he's not crying or peeing on me."

Rick chuckled at this, having been there the day Maggie let her change a wet diaper. "It's not boys peeing on you that you have to worry about."

"Oh?"

"More than once, Carl actually peed in my mouth."

"Ugh," Carrie grimaced, pulling a face as she imagined that happened. "Gross."

"Tell me about it. Took me two incidents to teach me to keep my mouth closed when I was changing diapers. And that's not the worst of it either. You remember that day I thought Judith had chocolate on her fingers, but really she put her hand into her diaper and then I-"

"You know what, I really don't need to know anymore right now," she said, sitting up and patting his arm. "You've got another four months left to gross me out, okay? Don't do it all at once."

He chuckled to himself, apologising softly. Checking the time on his watch he got to his feet and held his hand out to her, deciding it was time to return home for her surprise party. "So if it was a boy do you actually like Ethan, or are you just saying you like it?"

Carrie dithered, thinking about it. "Ethan Daryl Grimes," she said, getting used to the way the names felt in her mouth. "It's not that I dislike it, it's just that I don't…like it. We'll keep it on the list," she added, hating that he seemed disappointed. "It might grow on me, but definitely not Miles."

"Fine, I give up on Miles."

"Have you got any girl's names in mind?" she asked, bringing up her earlier comment. "Any at all?"

They slowed their pace as they passed Jessie's house, extending their walk for as long as possible, and then Rick reluctantly answered. "I have one that I like, but I know you won't like it."

"Go on, try me."

"No, you won't like it."

"Rick."

He sighed, scratching his beard before he answered. "Phoebe."

Carrie quirked her eyebrow at this. "That's not the name you think I won't like."

"How do you know?"

"Because I like that name. Phoebe Carol Grimes would be nice."

"I agree."

"So, what's the other name? The one you think I won't like?"

"Don't worry about it," he said dismissively. "You won't like it."

"But you do. Come on, just try me," she encouraged. "It can't be worse than Miles."

"Carrie…" he muttered in frustration, clearly reluctant. "Not tonight, okay?"

They had reached their front porch, and as she ascended the first step she turned around and blocked his way, smiling as she looked down on him. "Come on, please? I'm dying to know now," she said, nudging his shoulder. Suspecting it would help she linked her fingers together and placed them on the front of her belly, emphasising it's shape right in front of him. "Please?"

He still seemed reluctant, but when he released a heavy sigh she knew she had won. "Georgia," he began heavily. "I like Georgia, but I know you won't, and I understand why."

The answer made her breath catch in her throat, the simply utterance of that name making her body turn cold in a split second. She looked at him in disbelief, feeling as though he had betrayed her, that he had backed her into a corner she wouldn't be able to get out of. What the hell was he thinking suggesting that name to her, suggesting they name their daughter that?

"You're right, I don't like it," she stated lowly, her voice wavering. "Don't bring it up again."

She turned on her heel to storm into the house, catching the mixed look of frustration and apology in Rick's eyes, but she didn't care to hear him out. In a few short strides she reached the front door and swung it open, leaving him out in the cold where he deserved to stay. Her body was flooded with righteous anger, her fists clenched and her jaw set, but she was abruptly cut short as a dozen silhouettes suddenly emerged in front of her with a loud shout.

"Surprise!"

Caught completely unaware Carrie actually gave a short scream of shock, her heart leaping into her throat as the room bellowed at her. One hand came up to cover her mouth while the other instinctively drifted to the holster on her leg, but she caught up quickly enough to not actually remove her gun. All around were her friends and family, leaping out from behind furniture and from around corners, a large birthday banner stretched out between Eric and Eugene while Glenn opened a bottle of champagne. As reality set in Carrie looked at them all in disbelief, struggling to correct her current state of mind to the situation. She was filled with anger, ready for an argument that would see slammed doors and hurt feelings, not a celebration.

She turned and looked over her shoulder, seeing Rick following her in with a somewhat apprehensive expression. He looked her in the eye, his shoulders slumping around a sigh as he mouthed the words I'm sorry to her.

"Jesus Christ on a stick, Rick!" Abraham yelled out in disapproval. "She was meant to take her gun off, not come storming in ready to shoot!"

Carrie burst out laughing, not because she found Abraham's comment amusing, but because she had to quickly adapt herself. Clearly a lot of effort had gone forth for this surprise, and she suspected a great deal of that effort had come from Carl, that this had been his work. In that instant she set aside her anger and disbelief in exchange for what she was supposed to feel today, happiness. It didn't take much to do this, and although that name Georgia still echoed horribly in the back of her mind, she quickly found that there was no resisting the infectious mood of her surprise party.

"S'pise!" Judith shouted, strolling straight past Carrie and heading for the refrigerator. She slapped her palms against the door and turned around to everyone else, looking at them expectantly. "Cake? Cake, now?"

Without further ado the party began, everyone crowding around her in celebration and light hearted teasing. A glass of sparkling apple juice was placed into her hand, conversation rampant as everyone came forward to wish her a happy birthday, pointing her towards the dining room table where their carefully wrapped presents were waiting for her. Going along with it she released a slow breath and forced herself to enjoy this, her first birthday in Alexandria. The enthusiasm and excitement was infectious, making it easy for her to forget what Rick had said and instead focus on their friends and family, on rejoicing and thanking them for her gifts.

In no time at all the party was in full swing, and at all costs Carrie stopped thinking about what Rick said.

A/N Hey readers, please oh please give me a quick shout out for the chapter! Thanks for reading.