A/N: More interlude than chapter, as the next will have a time jump. A HUGE thanks for all of those who have taken the time to comment. You don't know how much it means to me. Sorry for the delay!

I had a dream
That you were in my arms,
And you loved me
As I held you close.

My entire world tilted on its axis

The day that I met you

And spun in reverse

When I fell in love with you.

And yet, it feels as if

I've always known you.

The truth was in your eyes;

The reason in your heart;

My purpose in your soul.

. . . . . .

"I've never had pad see eiw before. What kind of broccoli is this?" Rick asked, reaching for the container on the coffee table. Michonne glanced at his hands—strong and firm, yet so gentle, the way he'd hold her. She belatedly realized she wanted those hands on her. Always.

It took her a moment to realize it, but she saw it, plain as day—his wedding band was gone. She took a moment, swallowing, looking away before responding. "Chinese broccoli."

"Tastes good," he said, smiling at her, placing that white, plastic fork in his mouth suggestively. Michonne laughed, nudging his shoulder with hers. She leaned against him as he ate, watching the magic between Henry and Karen on screen. Michonne exhaled a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding—

This was real. Rick was here, with her, unclaimed.

Hers.

She wrapped her arm across his belly, feeling both elated and terrified. What if it fell apart? What if he didn't feel the same way? What if—

"Hey. You okay?" he asked. She tilted her head up from his chest, staring into his soft, blue eyes. This was Rick. He wouldn't leave her. With him, she wasn't alone.

She smiled at him.

"Yeah. I'm okay," she assured him. And she was.

. . . . . .

Michonne woke up, feeling the wall of Rick's chest against her back. His arm was draped over her, resting on the bed, but nestled between her breasts. She shifted, and he shifted with her, kissing the back of her shoulder. Unconsciously, she thrust back against him—his hardness—eliciting a moan of approval.

"Michonne," he murmured, thrusting back against her, his hand traveling to her hip. The room had a soft glow from the rising sun. Michonne remembered another room at another time when they were spooned like this—she lost in grief, and he lost in solace. Today was different. Today, she was his, and he was hers. She sucked in a breath, grinding back against him. His ring-free hand snuck their way past the elastic waist of her panties, dipping downward, caressing her, making her moan. Nipping at her neck, he eased her panties down to her knees, his hardness pushing against her. Wrapping her arm around behind his neck, holding him to her, she lifted a bit, letting him in. His fingers dug into her hip bone as he leisurely moved inside of her. Hating the hindrance, she pulled the offending underwear all the way off, moving her leg on top of his, allowing him deeper. He whispered a curse, and her name, squeezing her behind before pulling out and away from her. He turned her over so that she lay flat, then covered her body with his.

He kissed her deeply, re-entering her, and said, "I need to see you."

Michonne whimpered, kissing back, giving herself over, ankles locked at his back. Rick lift her tank top upward, tasting each breast. Michonne brought him up by his curls, needing to claim his mouth for herself. He put his hand between them, working her over. She clamped around him, tensing, and let go, falling back to the mattress, sated. Rick stared into her eyes as he followed her into the abyss, still needing to see her.

He collapsed on top of her, kissing the juncture of her neck and shoulder, whispering, "I love you," in her ear. Michonne pushed him back, wiping the sheen of sweat from his forehead, smoothing back his curls as she stared at him. He smiled at her. "I do."

Michonne cradled his face, smiling back at him. "Yeah?"

He nodded. "Yeah."

She kissed him, hoping to convey everything she felt for him; that he was the one; that he was the love she had never known.