"It ain't champagne or even whiskey, but it's something."
Rick settled beside Michonne, holding up the repurposed applesauce jar for her inspection.
"You sure you want to risk that?" Michonne turned the vessel in Rick's hand, holding it towards the light. "Might go blind."
"We've risked plenty," Rick reminded her. "What's a little moonshine?"
"Depends on who made it," Michonne speculated. "Was it Daryl or--"
"Jesus." Rick opened the top of the jar. The tower at once filled with the sickly sweet scent of homemade liquor.
"Well, in that case," Michonne leaned in, placing her lips to the rim. It burned something awful and she pulled back at once, sputtering.
"Lightweight," Rick teased.
"You take a drink then, manly man," Michonne challenged.
He did so and went scarlet in the face at once. The gulp looked like he was swallowing nails and not alcohol. He coughed, shaking his head.
"That might be worse than even Daryl's," Rick said, aghast. He screwed the lid on again and set the jar down between them.
"Makes me miss wine," Michonne sighed.
"I was more of a beer man," Rick said. He extended an arm, snaking it behind her. Michonne leaned into it.
"That doesn't surprise me," she chuckled. "And whisky too, no doubt?"
"Only the manliest of drinks," Rick confirmed. "Used to go to the one good bar in town. This was before Carl. Shane and I would get so shit faced--"
"And Lori?" Michonne ventured.
Rick inhaled sharply, but nodded. "Scolding us to take it easy. The whole time she'd be buying shots. Getting as red in the face as the rest of us."
"And once Carl came along?" Michonne asked.
"He wanted to be there with us. Not like now." Rick scoffed.
"Rick, he's right at home with Judith," Michonne reminded him.
"He used to love being home with us. We'd set off fireworks in the front driveway. He'd run wild with the sparklers." Rick swallowed. He reached for the jar again but did not open it. "What about you, city girl?"
"Oh, at first it was clubs. High heels, tight dresses, you know." Michonne stretched her legs in front of her.
"I don't, but I'd like to," Rick's freehand gripped her thigh. Michonne swatted it with a giggle.
"Then with Mike it was galas and art shows and concerts. And then with Andre, it was Dick Clark on TV. We'd watch the fireworks from the window of the high rise."
"Crazy ain't it?" Rick asked.
"Well," Michonne coaxed the jar out of his hand and opened it. She took another sip, swallowing down her grimace. "We've got booze," she pointed out. "And the kids at home, and a view." She swept her arm out, gesturing towards Alexandria. "And good company."
"I might have a match in my pocket," Rick grinned. "In case you want a sparkler."
"You're enough for me," she promised. "We can do resolutions, if you want."
"Don't really feel like doing a diet," Rick deadpanned. "And I promise I won't be drinking much, if it's this."
"Well I resolve to do this more," Michonne announced grandly.
"Drink moonshine up in the watchtower like a couple of high school kids?" Rick asked, cocking a brow.
"Anything with you," she clarified.
Rick coaxed the jar from her hand, calloused fingers lingering against hers. "That's quite a line, darling."
"Well, I am trying to get in your pants," Michonne winked at him.
Rick laughed warmly. He lifted the jar in both of their hands, hoisting it up. "I'll cheers to that."
He took another swig but quickly abandoned the jar, setting it down to pull Michonne into a kiss. She folded into his embrace, curling into his lap. He cupped her chin between one hand, steadying her.
"I thought we were supposed to wait for midnight," Michonne laughed against his lips.
"Figured I'd get a jump on my resolution," Rick kissed a path to her ear.
"Which is what?" Michonne snaked her arms around his shoulders.
"Well, it's a long list," Rick grinned wolfishly, leaning her back. "But it starts with letting you get in my pants."
"Probably good that we left the kids at home," Michonne laughed, holding him close.
It was just before midnight, at least according to Rick's watch, when the two stumbled home tipsily. They found Carl on the couch, slumped over asleep with his sister in his lap. He blinked wearily at them with one eye when Rick bent to wake up.
"What are we doing?" he asked, coming to quickly. "Is there something wrong?"
Rick shook his head, helping his son and daughter up. "We're starting a tradition," he explained.
It was a tight fit on the porch swing, but with Judith in Rick's lap and Michonne half draped over him, they made it work.
"30 seconds," Rick checked his watch.
Carl watched confusedly. "Until what?"
"It's not fireworks," Michonne cautioned, handing the jar over. "But you can have a sip of this."
"He might see fireworks with that," Rick chuckled. "15 seconds."
Michonne opened the jar, smiling as Rick began to countdown.
"10," Rick started, bouncing Judith.
The little girl looked delighted by this unexpected turn of events. She watched eagerly, babbling when Michonne began to count as well.
"8, 7, 6…" she nudged Carl.
"5," he shook his head, looking at his parents as though they'd lost their minds. "4…"
"3, 2, 1!" Michonne urged the jar towards Carl. "Happy New Year!"
He looked bewildered, but took a sip. In seconds, he was gagging to match his father a few hours prior. Rick patted him on the back until he settled.
"What's gotten into you two?" Carl rasped. "Besides moonshine."
"We thought it was time for some family traditions. Some new ones," Rick explained.
Carl considered this, his eye falling back on the jar. He inhaled, looking up at his family.
"I think that's a good idea," he said at last. He bent to take another sip, and quickly dissolved again.
Rick handed Judith over, reaching instead for the jar. "That's enough for the year," he told his son with a grin.
Carl relinquished it with a laugh. "Aren't you two supposed to kiss?" he asked.
In answer, Michonne kissed Judith on the head, then Carl in turn. Rick was quick to follow, holding his squirming son still. In no time they were a giggling bunch. The swing rocked beneath them, lulling them all back into a content pile.
"Happy New Year," Carl murmured, laying his head on Michonne's shoulder.
Michonne in turn leaned on Rick, holding Judith tighter still. "Happy New Year," she echoed, perfectly content.