The life-size, plastic nutcracker eyed her with a wide unblinking gaze. Michonne squinted.

"Looks like it's just you and me tonight, huh?"

The toy soldier remained silent.

She sighed. "Merry Christmas to me." She downed the rest of her champagne.

The annual King County community Christmas party was in full swing. Cheesy Christmas music blasted in the background, thudding against her skull. The dusty decorations were hung crudely throughout the office.

Normally, she loved Christmas but this year had been so full of unwarranted bullshit and stress that she couldn't find the energy to soak in any holiday cheer. Playing the part of district attorney of King County was the focal point of her misery.

Everyday felt like she was the new sheriff riding into a town of thinly veiled Klansman. It was disconcerting yet here she was. Putting on a good face, acting as civil as she could in a room full of people who didn't want nor need to value her humanity. Though, it wasn't like she could leave.

Fresh out of college at the age of thirty with a massive amount of debt and no legal experience, it was either this or retail – and she refused to ask her parents for help. She convinced herself professional racist pricks were better than unhinged consumer racist pricks. She wasn't sure if there really was a difference. Nevertheless, she assured herself it wasn't forever. It's all for the resume. She repeated the mantra over and over just to get through the day.

"I see you've met Charles."

The humorous tone snapped her back to reality. She stared at the man gazing up at the nutcracker with a smirk.

Damn it. Every time. Without fail. Her insides fluttered like a pack of helpless butterflies trying to escape imprisonment. She hated it. She turned into a nervous mess incapable of forming basic words.

Rick Grimes looked like he belonged in the good ol' boys club. White, male cop with a firm physique and blue gaze screamed Southern prick. But his lack of ego and unconditional kindness set him apart from his bigoted colleagues.

He always treated her with gentleness and didn't hesitate to put people in their place when they got out of line. He protected her. Often. She didn't know why but he took it upon himself to be her guardian angel, protecting her and knocking down barriers conveniently set up just for her by the people who conspired against her.

At first, she was annoyed by his supposed gallantry. She knew how to take care of herself. She didn't need some random white guy looking at her like his good deed for the day. But then she got to know him. She wasn't the only one he helped. His generosity and care flowed throughout the community like open channels of compassion. It was enough to make the tiny town tolerable.

His only flaw was his divorced status. Though, the idea of considering it a flaw was thanks to the work of her mother and granny. Anytime one of her aunties started dating a divorced guy, they reminded her a woman didn't divorce a man for nothing. There was always a reason. She just couldn't figure out who in their right mind would leave a man like Rick Grimes.

Maybe he had an affair. Maybe he was too kinky in the bedroom – though that was more wishful thinking than a possibility. Either way, she'd managed to keep her distance until now.

She banished thoughts of bedroom kinks and scoffed at the name of the plastic soldier. "Charles?"

His smile widened. "Sir Charles of the King County Kingdom. He's a legend around these parts."

"Hmm, legend?"

"Yeah, he's more famous than Santa Claus himself."

"Really? And why's that?"

"Magic."

"Magic," she repeated skeptically.

He drew in closer, whispering in a low timbre. "They say every Christmas Eve, he chooses the kindest, bravest, most beautiful soul in town and grants them a wish."

She shrugged away the shivers his voice provoked. "He must grant you wishes every year then," she murmured.

Rick's lips parted in surprise. Her eyes widened the moment she uttered the words.

"I mean, I…that's not..," she stuttered, flustered by her unexpected flirtation.

He contained his laugh. "Yeah, I know," he reassured her, his tone telling her the unintended compliment was far from being forgotten.

"You're kind and brave and all that but I didn't mean for it to come out so…like that. I just-"

"Michonne." She bit her tongue. He gave her a tender smile. "I know."

She nodded, turning back to the silently mocking figure, inwardly wincing at her awkwardness.

"You wanna get out of here?"

Her heart stuttered at his simple request. She glanced over at him to see if he was just teasing her. His earnest gaze let her know he was being serious.

She swirled the last drop of champagne in her glass, not wanting to appear too eager. "Don't you want to celebrate Christmas with your friends?"

"If I had any in there, I would."

His knowing smile warmed her cheeks. She turned to face him. "You'd break some hearts with that statement, Officer Grimes."

He shrugged and drawled, "Ahh, they'll be fine."

His eagerness to spend time alone with her shone in his bright eyes. She couldn't say no even if she wanted.

Biting her bottom lip, she playfully arched her eyebrow. "If none of those people in there are your friends, what does that make me?" She stepped in closer, tilting her chin up expectantly.

A smile twitched on his lips, glimpsing down at her body before steadily gazing at her. "You?" He tilted his head in contemplation. "You're something else, Michonne Anthony."

The way he sucked in his cheeks with his knowing gaze had her lungs stuttering.

Inhaling in satisfaction, she assented. "Okay, what'd you have in mind?"

He smiled and held out his hand. "Come on. Let's find our own magic."

She smiled at his cheesy one-liner and slipped her fingers in his. Somehow she knew they'd find it.