November 5th

She was unlike anyone he'd ever had sex with before, Rick thought as she lowered herself onto his cock. He let out a loud groan as she let him fill her to the brim. Everything about her was incredible. He wished he hadn't had quite so much to drink, he wanted to remember all of it. God she was beautiful.

They kissed hungrily, their mouths locked together, barely pausing for air. Her supple tits grazed his pecs as she bounced up and down. Her warm tongue was still invading his mouth, driving him crazy. He tried to turn his mind to other things to prolong the inevitable. It wasn't going to work. Her nails were grazing his back, her tight pussy milking him to oblivion.

"Jesus...fuck...argh.." He breathed as he came inside her, filling her with his seed. His mouth was locked open as wave after wave of pleasure invaded his veins. His heart was thudding in his ears and threatened to never return to a normal rhythm again. "Did you...?" He panted as his eyes roamed her face for a clue.

She shook her head and climbed off him. "It's ok, I'm kinda tired." She flashed him a smile.

"Shit...sorry." He cursed himself, normally alcohol had the opposite effect on his performance, but normally he wasn't sleeping with girls like Michonne. She seemed to be in no hurry to get dressed which Rick wasn't going to complain about. Her confidence made her seem even sexier.

"You got any food?" She walked the length of his open plan penthouse apartment into the kitchen.

"Help yourself." He smirked as he realised she had already located the apple pie in his refrigerator. He sat at the breakfast bar watching her, how could someone look so sexy just standing there eating pie, twirling a fork in between her fingers.

"Did you make this?" She asked, her mouth still half full.

He cleared his throat. "My mom."

"Hmm." She laughed. "Cute."

"Yeah." He filled two glasses of water from the filter jug. "She's the best." He downed his glass in a few gulps and re-filled it. He hopped down from the bar stool to deliver her water. She took it gratefully from his grasp.

"Thanks." She drank as fast as he had. "What were those shots we were doing?"

"God knows." Rick screwed up his face. "You can blame Daryl for that."

"Ah was that his name? He was a wild one!" She raised one eyebrow.

"Mmhmm." Rick drank another glass of water. "He seemed to be getting on well with your friend...with the long hair..."

"Jesus." She said, as if it was the most normal name in the world.

"Jesus?" It was Rick's turn to raise his eyebrow. "Well I hope Daryl and...Jesus had as good a night as we did."

"Yeah." She smiled as she returned to her fork, licking it up and down. "Maybe they both got to reach orgasm."

Rick flushed a deep shade of crimson, suddenly feeling very vulnerable as he stood naked in front of her.

"M'sorry about that." He mumbled. "Doesn't usually happen I can assure you."

"I'm sure." She was skeptical. She'd slept with guys like Rick before, white guys who thought they were god's gift to women, but who had nothing to back it up. He wasn't a bad fuck, but he hasn't even made her top ten. Her thoughts were interrupted by his looming presence as he drew her closer to him.

He took her face in his hand and began kissing her jawline, slowly and deliberately he kissed down to her neck. With his other hand he extracted the apple pie from her and placed it down on the kitchen side. She felt his erection pressing against her leg.

His fingers gently stroked at her lower abdomen, taking a long time to get where Michonne wanted them, her aching pussy. He teased her at first with one finger tracing her slit. Her lips were still swollen from their tryst a few moments earlier. He inserted two fingers inside her, she felt him take a sharp intake of breath as he began working her. She moaned into his neck as she surrendered to his touch.

December 1st

Michonne was grateful to see her white overstuffed couch after an exhausting day. It seemed like lately she'd had nothing but exhausting days. It was barely even dinner time but she couldn't keep her eyes open. Normally on a day like today she would reach for the wine, but for some reason she didn't feel like that today.

She curled up on the couch and switched on the TV. She found something where she didn't have to think, a rerun of the Big Bang Theory, and lay down. It wasn't long before she had drifted off to sleep.

It was only the vibration of her cell phone that woke her, she rubbed the dust from her eyes, realising what time it was and that she had plans tonight.

"Sasha I'm so sorry!" She answered.

"Michonne, where are you?" She could barely hear Sasha over the sound of the busy restaurant.

"I'm at home, look I'm so sorry I can't make it tonight. I'm not...feeling well." She half-lied.

"Yeah. Jesus said you didn't look great at work today." Sasha shouted into the receiver. "Rest up, honey. We'll catch up Friday."

"Definitely. " Michonne yawned, a little disappointed that she hadn't managed to mask her exhaustion from her colleagues. "Have a great night."

"Feel better! Bye."

"Bye." Michonne threw the phone onto the footrest, curling around her cushion once again. It was 8pm, she supposed she better get something to eat and head to bed. Her brain felt fuzzy, her thoughts clouded, and she had a weird sick feeling building in her stomach.

Riffling through her kitchen cupboards she found the pot of Tylenol, popping two into her mouth in the hope it would take the edge off whatever she was coming down with. She sighed looking at the contents of the shelves, there was nothing she fancied to eat. She took an apple up to bed, but by the time she had taken off her clothes and climbed under the duvet she only had one thing on her mind and before long she fell into a deep sleep.

"Shit." Michonne mumbled as her 6am alarm intruded her brain. It felt like she'd been asleep for 10 minutes, not 10 hours. She rolled over, deciding to ignore how tender her breasts felt and how she still had the same nausea biting at her stomach.

She turned on the shower, hoping the hot water would wake her up or at least make her feel more human. Stepping inside she winced as the water ran off her sensitive nipples. She calculated in her head when her period was due, figuring it must be soon. She stopped in her tracks, she must have been so busy working she hadn't even realised. She was due last week.

"Fuck." She said out loud into the water. Rick. She didn't even know his surname, didn't even know where to find him. She knew where he lived, kind of. But she couldn't remember which building it was and she definitely couldn't remember the apartment number. She tried to remember what he said his job was, any details that would mean she had some idea how to contact him.

They'd been so drunk. She remembered telling him it was fine. She remembered he didn't really hesitate. She tried to calculate if she'd taken her pill that day. She must have done, she never forgot. Yet here she was, stood in her shower, her breasts on fire, the nausea building once again, and he somewhere in the city without a clue.

Her breathing was quickening as the realisation hit her about what was actually happening. The nausea had risen to her throat and she just about made it to the toilet before she lost the megre contents of her stomach.

"'Chonne?" Jesus picked up the phone on the second ring. She had to hand it to him, he was an excellent assistant. It wasn't even 7am and he was already on the ball. "Everything ok?"

"Uh...I won't be in today." Michonne muttered at the phone. "Can't stop getting sick."

"Oh." His concerned voice echoed round her bedroom on speakerphone. "Can I bring you anything?"

"No thanks I'm all good." She started, before realising she actually needed to check her suspicions. "Actually. Do you mind heading to the pharmacy for me?"

Less than two hours later, Jesus was sat on the huge white couch waiting for Michonne to deliver the news. She padded out from the bathroom, stick in hand, and wordlessly flopped down next to him.

"How long do we wait?" He turned to her.

"Box said three minutes." She placed the white stick down on the glass coffee table, Jesus set the timer on his phone.

"I've been...uh...speaking to his friend, Daryl." Jesus said with a smirk. "If you need me to get his number?"

"Oh really?" Michonne turned to him, smiling for the first time that day. "Just speaking huh?"

"Well...a little more than just speaking. But I won't bore you with the gritty details while you're feeling so sick."

"Oh I wanna know." She was beaming now, Jesus had worse luck with men than she did, if that was even possible, and she wanted to know about this one who was special enough to stick around.

They were brought back to reality by the beep of her timer.

"You check." She whispered, trying to hand off the white stick to Jesus.

"'Chonne." He flinched. "I love you, but if you think I'm touching something you've peed on, then you have another thing coming!"

"Ok." She steeled herself and took a deep breath. She closed her eyes as she turned it towards her. Even though she only opened one eye, she saw it. The unmistakable bright pink cross.

"What's it say?" Jesus said softly, unable to discern the answer from her reaction.

Michonne continued to stare at it, dumbstruck. "I think you're gonna need to find me that number."