As Rick pulled into the parking lot, Andre asked, "Why can't I sit in the front seat Dad?"
Rick looked in the rearview mirror as he answered, "Because I'm a cop and I've seen too many kids in car accidents who were in the front seat before they were old enough."
"How old do I have to be?" Andre whined.

"The law says twelve."
"But I'm eleven and a half. If we were in math, my teacher would make us round that to twelve."
Rick chuckled, "Your mom would admire your use of a technicality, but in my book, eleven and a half is not twelve, and you've got about six more months of sitting in the backseat, so don't get your hopes up."
He turned off the car, indicating to Andre that it was time to get out of the car. Andre dragged his feet asking, "What are we doing today anyway?"
"Your mother always seems to get me the best presents for my birthday, so today, you and I are going to try to one up her."
"What did she give you?" Andre said.
"Well, that first year after we got married, she gave me your adoption papers to sign."
"Oh yeah, that was when I had to remember to write my name differently on top of my papers. What else did she give you?"
"She got me that great hunting rifle, for when I go camping with Daryl."
"When are you going to teach me to use it?" Andre asked excitedly.
"When I decide you're old enough."
"When is that?"
"When I decide. Your mom also made me the photo album from when we were in high school and you were roughly the size of a loaf of bread."
"I was never that small," Andre said indignantly.
Rick put a hand on the boy's shoulder as they crossed in front of two cars that slowed down to allow them access to the sidewalk in front of the jewelry store.
"You were definitely that small. I was there for it."
"Well, I don't remember it."
"It still happened," Rick laughed.

As they entered the store, Rick told Andre, "Stay with me, we're going to look around together and see if we can find something your mom might like."

Rick stopped to talk with a jeweler about a particular bracelet and took his eyes off of Andre. He didn't notice as his son walked away from him and started looking at other display cases.

He did notice though when he heard a security guard's raised voice snapping, "You're coming with me while we wait for the police."
He continued to listen, and dropped the bracelet he was examining when he heard Andre's voice with more than a hint of panic in it cry, "No! My dad's over there, I promise. I was just looking-"
"Boy, I assure you, there is not one person in this store who could be your father. You should have known better than to shoplift."

Rick had crossed the store in about two strides and cut in before Andre could sputter anything else to answer the security guard, his voice booming as he called, "I know you're about to take your hands off my boy."
The security guard turned around, still grasping the back of Andre's shirt.
Andre looked at Rick, absolutely terrified. Rick locked eyes with the security guard, speaking confidently, "I won't ask again. You should let go of my son right now."
The guard released Andre, who hurried to Rick's side, wrapping his arms around him and clinging to him.
"Sir, your son was stealing a necklace. I caught him with his hand in the display case. I still have to call the police."
Rick scathingly replied, "Officer Rick Grimes, King County Deputy Sheriff. Consider the police informed."
Still desperate to justify his actions, the security guard said, "You ought to keep a better eye on your kid. Can't let him go wandering around and opening things."
Rick was angry now, practically snarling, "You might want to get better at your job. That display case was open when we walked in here. And now we're walking out, and you've lost yourself a customer, as well as anyone that I let know about the absolute failure of a security guard. Let's go, son."

With that, Rick turned around, his arm around Andre's shoulder, to lead him out of the store. As soon as they were outside, Rick sat Andre down on a bench and kneeled in front of him.
"Did he hurt you?" Rick demanded.
Andre shook his head and Rick asked, "What happened?"
Andre said, "I saw this necklace, and I thought Mom would like it, so I wanted to bring it to you to show you."
Rick sighed; he knew something like that had happened. He said, "Don't you remember when I told you to stay by me?"
"I'm sorry Dad. I just got bored, and I thought I could help you look."
Rick sighed again, feeling bad for chastising Andre for trying to find his mom a present. Then Andre asked, "Why did that man say that there wasn't anyone in the store who could be my father?"
"Because he's cruel and bigoted," Rick answered.
"What does that mean?"
"It means we're going to get ice cream, and then we're going to go home and we're going to talk with Mom."
"What about her present?"
"Her birthday's still a bit away. We'll go to another store, another day. But bud, you've got to stay with me if I tell you to."
"I know, Dad. I'm sorry."
"It's okay. Are you sure you're okay? He didn't hurt you?"
Andre shook his head, "No, he just scared me a lot."
Rick nodded empathetically, "I'm sure he did. Let's go get some ice cream."

A large ice cream sundae later, Andre had pretty much recovered from the initial shock of what had happened and he talked Rick's ear off about what was happening at his baseball tournament the following weekend. Rick smiled, and listened in between sending text messages to Michonne explaining to her what happened. Rick brought Andre home, still keeping him in the backseat, despite his protests.

Rick entered the house with Andre in tow, greeted Michonne with a kiss and a gentle caress to her very pregnant belly. She was due any week now and Rick felt conflicted; he was happy to see his expectant wife, happy to imagine what their daughter would look like when she was born, but he was still shaken over what Andre had experienced earlier that day.

"Hey," she greeted, gravely.
"Hey," Rick answered, just as sadly. He glanced over his shoulder to make sure that Andre had distracted himself sufficiently by playing with their dog before he continued, "I'm sorry this happened, 'Chonne."
Michonne looked at Andre as she answered, "It's not your fault hon. I know you wouldn't put him in this situation on purpose. Is he okay?"
Rick nodded, "Yeah, he let go of him pretty quick as soon as I noticed. I just should have been paying more attention. He wouldn't have wandered off at all."
Michonne shook her head, "Rick, it's okay."

Later at the dinner table Michonne asked, "So Andre, what'd you and Dad do today?"
Andre looked up and said, "Nothing much. We got ice cream. Dad let me get a large."
"Oh he did? Before dinner?" Michonne asked; she couldn't help but smile as she asked this question when she saw her husband looking sheepish out of the corner of her eye.
Andre nodded, "Yeah, I got chocolate, with hot fudge and marshmallow and whipped cream."
Michonne's eyes were wide, "Wow, I'm surprised you ate all of your dinner. What'd you do before ice cream?"
Andre looked at Rick, who nodded, "You can tell Mom what we were doing bud."
"Dad and I were trying to get you a present," Andre started uncertainly. "But the security guard thought I was stealing, so we left and we got ice cream."
"Why do you think he thought that?" Michonne asked gently.
Andre shrugged, "I don't know. Dad told me that he was bigoted, but I don't know what that means."
Michonne began, "It means that some people aren't always nice to people who aren't like them. You and your dad have different color skin, and it doesn't matter to any of us, but there are some people who are bothered by it. They can be very mean, and they can assume things that aren't true."
"Like how he thought I was stealing the necklace?"
Michonne nodded, "Exactly. It's not right and it's not fair, but unfortunately, some people aren't very nice."
Andre looked thoughtful and asked, "Is my sister going to look like you or Dad?"
Michonne answered carefully, "She's going to look like both of us."
"So people might be mean to her too?"
Rick said, "They might be, but they're going to have to go through me and your mother if they want to be mean to her, just like anyone who's mean to you is going to have to answer to us."

I did not initially plan this chapter, but was inspired by a review left by Cleo Griffith to write this particular scenario. I had only planned this to be a part of a larger chapter, but as I wrote, it morphed into its own chapter. So thank you to everyone who reviews and inspires me to continue and build this story.