A/N: Inspired by Rick and Michonne's little chat about her katana.
Rick stepped out into the warm night air; his mind awash with scenarios of how they should best proceed. Bob was dead; Daryl and Carol were still missing; and the group had separated. Rick was steadfast in his determination that they would wait for them while the others pressed on to DC; and then meet again later. Right now, they were waiting; he felt overtired, and they were waiting.
He noticed her right away, seated on the step with her sword. Michonne knew the sound of Rick's boots as they came into contact with the front step; the intrusive taps snapping her out of her focus on the surrounding area. Michonne never favoured taking watch much; there was always an overabundance of time to think. She did not want to think that evening, but alas, she did not want to sleep. Sleeping meant that one might dream; she could control her thoughts, but her dreams were not so easily tamed.
Rick took up a seat beside Michonne, resting his arms upon his knees; hands clasped together in front. He tilted his head slightly then turned to look at Michonne. He said nothing, but just stared at her for a moment; slowly, she returned his gaze. In the light of the full moon, they took in one another's features briefly before Rick looked down at the katana.
"You got it back." He started, nodding in the direction of the sword. "After what happened, what we did; are you still gonna tell me you didn't miss it? You seem relieved to have it back."
"I admit, it's cleaner; more efficient. I felt different without it; felt like a small void, but I don't think I really missed it. I mean, back in the boxcar, when they came and took you. I missed you. If I lost this damned sword forever, that's something I could get past. But losing our people, losing you; that's a void that can't be so easily filled."
Rick grinned slightly and looked to the ground before glancing back at her face; he took note that she was smiling. The smile she wore warmed his heart and the ever-growing space therein that she had occupied; the little space that was so empty for so long, but not any longer. He was thankful for the voids that she filled inside of him.