Rick awoke with a start. He did that often, it was like his body knew he was going into a deep sleep and it fought hard to prevent him from letting his guard down. The softness underneath him startled him a bit. He hadn't slept on anything this soft since his own bed, before he ended up in the hospital in a coma. His eyes searched his dark, quiet surroundings frantically until he realized Michonne was asleep on the bed next to him.

Actually, she was directly next to him. And his arm was across her waist. She hadn't been this close to him when he'd fallen asleep. Either he had moved closer or she had, but her hand was now curled around his arm that was loosely resting on her.

Her face was just inches from his own, and he used the dim light filtering through the store to study her long eyelashes, her wide adorable nose, and the way her lips were slightly parted. He could feel her breath against his face, and smell her scent. She smelled so good, not due to perfume, or clean clothes, or recent bathing. God knew none of them had bathed in weeks or more. But her natural smell was intoxicating, and warm, and full of womanhood.

He realized that the polite thing to do was to move his arm away from her, to put some distance between her body and his. The polite thing to do would be to turn his back to her, or even get out of the bed. But at that moment, with her lying so innocently next to him, he never wanted to let her go. And so he watched her, counting her breaths, watching her chest rise and fall, and he could only think of how much he wanted to press his lips against her forehead, and cheeks, and nose, and then her own lips. The pull he felt towards her was overwhelming.

Involuntarily, his arm tightened on her waist. His fingers that were splayed across the hem of her shirt, gently slipped under it until he was almost imperceptibly stroking the smooth, firm skin on her back. His eyes slid down to his hands which were getting bolder and slowly rubbing circles across her skin. It felt so comfortable lying here like this with her.

Suddenly he realized her breathing had changed. He glanced up to check on her and realized that she was staring back at him, the whites of her eyes reflecting in the dark room.

His fingers froze mid stroke and he couldn't move out of sheer embarrassment, but she didn't move either. She simply watched him, her eyes flitting all over his face, before she locked eyes with him, their hands comfortably touching each other's skin. And he realized that she was as comfortable with their sleeping arrangement as he was.

He felt her hand squeeze his arm reassuringly, and then she began to stroke his forearm in the same manner he'd been stroking her back. Michonne let out a small smile as Rick visibly relaxed.

He pulled her slightly closer to him, and she snuggled her forehead against his chest, getting comfortable. His fingers continued stroking her back underneath her shirt, and he pressed a kiss into her hair before he leaned his cheek against the top of her head, feeling more confident with her in his arms than he'd felt since the fall of the prison.

Her acceptance of him, her attraction to him, it was all he needed.

Wordlessly, they lay caressing each other until the sound of their heartbeats lulled them back to sleep.

***can08writer***

Carl woke up over the span of a few minutes. The first thing he noticed was how comfortable he felt. He couldn't remember the last time he'd felt this comfortable upon waking up from sleep. Usually his neck was in pain, or the hard ground was pressing into his hip bone as he lay on his side. On the bus he'd had to sleep in a sitting position with a dozen other people, and Abraham's snores, Judith's cries, or the sound of Daryl sharpening his arrows which he did when he couldn't sleep, woke Carl up at least every half hour.

As his brain became more and more aware, he remembered the furniture store that they'd found the day before, and putting Judith to bed before he crawled onto the twin mattress he slept on now. Not opening his eyes, he wiggled his toes, loving the feeling of sleeping without his boots on. It was a luxury to feel safe enough to sleep with no shoes, something he hadn't been able to do since they'd fled the prison.

He noticed someone had placed a blanket on top of him at some point in the night, most likely his father, and he snuggled into the warmness of the dusty, yet clean smelling blanket. Sleeping under a covering that didn't smell like dirt, mildew, or mold was another luxury in this world.

He'd had the most refreshing sleep he'd ever had since the world went crazy, and he thought he'd have to thank Maggie and Glenn for finding this place. He knew they couldn't stay long, there was nothing in terms of food and water in this area, but the night of restfulness was well worth it.

He finally opened his eyes and blinked a few times to clear them. It was still pretty dark in the furniture store. The gates had been left down over the front windows, keeping them safe from walkers and people, and the only light that filtered through the massive store came from the front entrance, where someone was on watch.

He turned to immediately check on Judith who was in a crib near his bed. She was still asleep, her thumb placed in her mouth. This was the first time Carl could remember that she hadn't woken up fussy during the night, and he realized his sister was enjoying her comfortable crib as well.

He turned his head and was shocked to see his father laying on a bed nearby with Michonne in his arms. Their legs were intertwined, and though Michonne's hands and head were pressed against Rick's chest, Rick's hands were comfortably nestled underneath the back of Michonne's shirt, his pinky finger even dipping dangerously into the back of her jeans.

Carl's mouth dropped open and he let out an exhale that was between a chuckle and a gasp.

What happened last night?

He had only ever seen his dad sleep that way with his mom, when he shared a tent with them when they'd fled Atlanta. And he hadn't seen it since. Even in the prison his parents had slept in different cells, and didn't touch or talk to each other if they could help it. Seeing his father hold Michonne like that gave Carl an indescribable feeling. Like maybe he'd be able to have a happy family again, with parents that actually liked and loved each other. One without the tension and drama that had overshadowed the last year of his parent's marriage.

Although he felt bittersweet that his mother wasn't able to be the one in his father's arms, he was happy for his dad. And Michonne. They both needed something good.

As if sensing the movement in the room, Rick pulled Michonne closer to himself in his sleep, and his hand slid down her back and into the back of her pants even lower. Michonne let out a soft sigh, and buried her face deeper into his chest.

Carl realized he'd been staring at them for at least a minute, and how creepy that was. Finally closing his gaping mouth, and shaking his head in amusement, he grabbed his boots from next to his bed, and quietly tiptoed towards the entrance to the store. He was wide awake, and since there was no way he'd be able to go back to sleep without staring at his father and his best friend in bed, he'd just relieve whoever was on watch.

***can08writer***

"So did I miss something that happened between you and Michonne last night?" Carl asked his father when an hour later the man had come to give him his breakfast rations, a handful of dried Frosted Flakes cereal.

Rick scrunched up his face as he popped a flake of cereal into his own mouth. "What do you mean?"

"I mean did anything interesting happen? I went to sleep and the two of you were pouring over maps. I wake up and you're cuddled up in bed. So I was wondering…"

"Carl…" Rick growled, uncomfortable with this conversation on so many levels.

"I mean, I don't wanna know know what happened. I just wanted to know if you guys are together yet. I want you to tell me if you are."

"Together?" Rick asked, now not even looking at his son.

"Yea Dad, together. Like, boyfriend girlfriend together."

"Why do you think that? Why would we be…"

"Dad come on. Michonne is the coolest adult I've ever met. And you obviously like her, so just be together. I don't get why it's so hard. You like her, right?"

"I… I mean… yea she's a nice woman. But things aren't that simple. It doesn't just work like that."

"Why not? I'm just tired of you guys giving each other looks all the time. You like each other. I know it. Do you want me to talk to Michonne and ask her for you?"

"No Carl," Rick said, a little louder than he'd intended. "No, this isn't something you should be worrying about. We're adults and we'll handle it on our own time. I'm glad you like Michonne, I do too. But there are other more important things to worry about right now. And if we decide to be… 'together', you'll be the first to know. I promise."

Carl huffed, but then nodded in resignation.

Rick smirked a little at his son's interest in his love life, but at least Carl liked Michonne. He would never have considered anything with her if Carl didn't feel that way.

When they'd awoken in each other's arms that morning, he thought there might be a little awkwardness between them. He thought possibly that Michonne might feel like she'd made a mistake, and he braced himself for that rejection. But he was relieved and grateful when she'd pressed a kiss to his hand, and he'd embraced her in a hug, before they got ready to face another day of traveling.

And knowing that she didn't regret their intimacy gave him all the energy and determination he needed to keep going towards Washington.

"Go finish your breakfast and then pack up. We're leaving in 30," Rick instructed his son. Carl popped another flake into his mouth and stood stretching his muscles.

"Good morning," a silky voice declared from behind them, startling them both. Sometimes Michonne was so quiet on her feet it was scary.

"It is a good morning, isn't it?" Carl asked, giving Michonne a goofy grin.

Michonne tilted her head at Carl, and then looked at Rick questioningly, but Rick simply shook his head at his son.

Michonne cleared her throat and ignored Carl's looks. "Have either of you seen Sasha?"

Carl's forehead furrowed. "Yea, she was on watch before I relieved her this morning. She went into the woods, I thought she had to pee or something, but come to think of it it's been a while and she hasn't come back."

"She's been going into the woods a lot lately," Rick said. "I meant to talk to her about it. After what she did yesterday, I think she's becoming a liability to the group."

"Yea," Michonne said, unable to shake an uncomfortable feeling that settled in her stomach. "I'll go find her. The others are just about ready to leave, and I don't want everyone waiting for her when we are ready."

"I'll go with," Rick said, standing up from his position.

"No, it's okay. I have to go relieve myself anyway. I'll find her, bring her back."

Rick eyed Michonne and tilted his head. "She pulled a knife on you yesterday," he reminded her.

"You think I can't take her?" Michonne asked, lifting an eyebrow.

"Oh I know you can," Rick responded with a proud nod of his head. "It's just, I don't want you going after her alone. She's not in the right mindset right now."

"I've got this Rick," Michonne said, placing a hand on his arm. "I'll be back in a few."

Not waiting for a reply, she turned and headed across the street and into the woods, her hand on her katana.

***can08writer***

Michonne walked through the woods, listening for any sign of Sasha. The foliage was mostly dried and crunchy due to the lack of rain, making it easy to determine she was nowhere nearby. But luckily the crunchy ground made it easy to determine there were no walkers nearby either.

Michonne kept walking, keeping track of her direction so she didn't get lost.

"Sasha?" she called.

The silence of the forest was unnerving. Usually birds would be chirping, or flies would be buzzing past. Nowadays, wildlife was the only soundtrack to their lives. But today the woods were silent, and Michonne could feel the hair raise on her arms. She gripped her katana more tightly as it rested on her back.

"Sasha?"

There was no reply, but she noticed a faint creaking coming from further up, as if an old tree was swaying from side to side in the breeze. Except there was no significant breeze, and all the other trees were still.

Cautiously, Michonne continued in the direction of the creaking.

"Sasha?" she whispered again.

The creaking continued, and as she approached she saw something unsettling on the ground.

Sasha's gun, knives, and boots were neatly piled underneath a tree. Michonne's stomach dropped and she pulled her katana.

"Sasha?" she called, louder now, but the only sound was the faint creaking.

Michonne continued forward until she spotted the tree that was creaking, and her shock almost made her drop her weapon.

Sasha was hanging from the tree with a rope tied around her neck, her feet just missing the ground, and her body swaying back and forth.

Author's note: A great big thank you to all of you who review (and a special thank you to those who leave long, in depth reviews.) I appreciate it so much, especially since I think the Richonne fandom is greatly declining since the disappearance of Rick and the leaving of Michonne on the show. If you want to #keepRichonnealive, it's important to do your part by supporting authors with reviews and reblogging of their content. I hope you enjoyed this chapter, and I can't wait to write what happens next!