A/N: I was in two minds about posting this but I got so much love it seemed unfair not to. I haven't discontinued this story. I just needed a break because I stopped having fun. you may have seen me try writing other fics in other smaller fandoms. that really helped me want to come back to write this. give it another shot. Thanks for your patience.

4. On display

The week leading up to the art exhibition had been an uneventful one. After a month of rising tension at work and at home, Rick Grimes welcomed the comforting coldness of tedium. He and Lori had returned to their routine of forced niceties and strategic avoidance. There would be no pink daisies this time to bring about an armistice; the war was familiar and frosty, Rick's skin was numb enough to withstand it for now. Resigned to this life, he did his best not to set off any landmines, leaving Lori to her own devices and avoiding any sensitive topics – which now included any mention of the best man at their hapless wedding, Shane Walsh.

Avoidance was simply not option at work and as per usual on Monday morning, Deputy Sherriff Walsh waltzed into the station ready to regale a tale of his weekend wickedness to his best friend. He greeted Rick at his desk, completely self-centred and oblivious to the mix of unexplained rage and frustration seething inside his purposefully, 'busy at work' partner. With an ill-considered smile on his handsome face, Shane continued to happily babble away only pausing for a beat to receive a laconic response from his audience of one.

"What's with you brother?"

Brother.

Rick felt the word like a kick to the stomach. He looked into Shane's dark eyes for any sign of hypocrisy but found honest concern. The question was a simple one and yet Rick had no simple answer. At this point he wasn't even completely sure what it was that he was asking.

Flashes of sinister and suggestive thoughts plagued him from time to time, with taunts that his unshakable truth was being tested by a known tear in his marriage. Was doubt destined to destroy every one of his most significant relationships? Shattered faith in his only sweetheart. Then for good measure, contaminate a friendship with a man who has on more than one occasion shown a willingness to take a bullet for Rick.

Unable to vocalize his thoughts, Rick simply gritted his teeth, massaged his temples and explained away his mood as a symptom of an oncoming migraine.

His best friend responded with sincere sympathy and complete understanding, offering to share the packet of painkillers he kept in his drawer, a lesson learned from mixing liquor with long nights.

Rick declined politely, explaining he was getting used to it, feeling somewhat more relaxed by the gesture, and following it up by reminding himself that he was loved by this man.

"Well," Shane said chuckling at Rick's unnecessary suffering, "That's what marriage and a kid does to a man!"

Again, the words had the effect of twisting Rick's guts but before he could respond Shane got up from his desk and disappeared for a moment. Rick didn't have more than a second to breathe before the younger man returned.

"Here you go." Shane told him throwing Rick a leaf of painkillers. "Only headache I'll be nursing from now until forever is the sweet side effect of regularly indulging in vice."

Rick barely mustered a thank you, before making his excuses and executing his very own, more lasting disappearing act.

Once Rick managed to push away the dark thoughts of the day, he got through Monday with minimal emotion. Shane was preoccupied for a good chunk of the day and as was Rick. He didn't need to make any further excuses, not when as had the most Monday Monday of all Mondays. In a twist of events, Tuesday turned out to be Monday too. Work kept coming and Rick kept going until the two days bled into each other, each ending without incident. When it was time to head home and crawl into bed, he did just that. Made it, Rick thought as he let slumber take him. He managed to keep cooler than Lori's side of the bed.

Wednesday was dedicated to the Peletier situation or now 'mystery' as Rick Grimes began to suspect things weren't back to usual for Carol and Ed. He had been chasing down Ed Peletier's release forms when he found out from Diane that the man was in his cell until early Monday morning, despite Carol's promise to pick him up herself.

"So she didn't come for him? At all?" Rick asked, afraid he must have misheard his colleague's words. Diane's lips curved into a proud smile. "She did not."

This news surprised Rick greatly, but it pleased him too. However, unsure whether it was just a small act of independence or something he ought to be concerned about, he decided it was worth a follow up.

Just to be safe.

Rick wasn't sure what he expected to find when he got into his car after work that day and drove down to Carol's store to check on her; but he sure as hell wasn't prepared for what he did spot in the store window.

Carol was behind the counter in her usual brown grocer's apron and a loose white shirt. Nothing out of the ordinary there, except – she was casually chatting to Michonne, a woman her husband threatened her to stay away from. From the look of the things, Michonne hadn't come into the store for groceries at all. In fact, she sat in a chair behind the counter, sipping at a tall glass of cool ice tea whilst Carol served another customer – a father and his playful toddler. The pepper haired, petite woman rang up the items and packed them expertly in a paper bag before sweetly waving goodbye to the young child in the pushchair. Her soft eyes followed them out the door where she caught a glimpse of Rick standing outside.

Carol greeted him with a wide, welcoming smile and Rick felt ushered to enter the store and greet her properly, but he didn't, opting to politely tip his hat instead and moving along swiftly as if on some other more important 'police business'.

As he rushed to walk past the open glass door, he was left with no option but to stop for a moment. He muttered a quick hello, to both women, making sure not to make any extended eye contact with them – especially Michonne.

It was an awkward exchange because even behind the counter and barely visible, even with the briefest of glances, her presence made him hyper conscious. Her every detail popped out at him, making him uncomfortable in his own skin. Her dreads hanging casually off her shoulder; her full lips, a bright pink matching the tiny flowers stitched onto the pale blue blouse she wore; her legs, long and relaxed in brown loose slacks with a familiar brown bag balancing carefully on the lap.

She's still carrying. Troublingly, patting the purse like a support animal. Yet, instead of asking the million questions playing on his mind, Rick kept walking.

He could hear the two women continue conversing and the moment he was out of sight the conversation turned to him. However reprehensible, he couldn't help but remain out of view and listen in for a while.

"…was strange." Carol whispered making it clear she too felt somewhat shameful undertaking in such gossipy behavior.

"You think?" Michonne said louder and more casually.

"Yeah, he didn't even say hello."

I did. Rick thought rather pettily but he did not need to come to his own defense.

"Well he did Carol. Literally just said it."

"Maybe in New York that passes for manners but not here." Carol corrected Michonne and Rick knew then he needed to seriously work on his poker face.

Michonne remained unconvinced. "He's a busy man I guess."

"He's a good man, always makes time." Carol continued surprising Rick who was feeling anything but good at this very moment. "Ed doesn't like to show it but I know he's jealous of him. He's a real man. A good husband and father."

"Good for him."

Rick wishes he could've seen Michonne's face to be sure, but his ears were certain in what they detected. A hint of bitterness in the background of her reply.

"Yeah they're lucky. I see his wife sometimes, Lori, she's a sweet girl. Back in kindergarten, their son Carl used to come round to play with Sophie. Then Ed was Ed and scared him away."

"I'm sorry."

The usual sympathetic quality returned to Michonne's voice. Rick struggled to understand what brought on that bitterness earlier; for when he heard the same in Carol's voice a moment ago, it was the justifiable pain of living with someone considered in all books 'a bad husband and father'. He didn't have long to dwell on things before Carol spoke again and Rick felt immense remorse at her earlier confession. The truth was, Carol was only half right. Carl wasn't so easily scared away from his friendship with Sophia – it was Lori and him who made the decision for the boy.

"It's okay. They're still friends. Or at least friendly."

"Pity does that. Too pungent to be any closer."

"Is that why you don't want anyone knowing about Mike? You don't want their pity?"

Mike. Finally, a nugget of new information. Something to satisfy or merely spur on Rick's inquisitive nature. Mike.

When Michonne answered, it was softly and sadly – with a dash more unspoken bitterness for Rick to mull over. Michonne had a Mike and it wasn't a happy tale.

"I'm not sure anyone would think I deserved any pity."

"Michonne."

"Oh God, I blame you and your splash of something special. I should've stuck to water."

"Yeah but where's the fun in that?"

"Girl, where's the fun in this?"

Upon hearing the pity present in her friend's voice, Michonne let conversation die in favor of laughter and lightness, leaving Rick with no reason to remain. Pensive, he wandered back to his car preoccupied with answers that never seemed to materialize and questions he knew he couldn't ask.

On Wednesday, Rick toyed with the idea of dropping in on Ed Peletier at his place of work but was saved the drive down when Diane, ever plugged in to the latest town gossip, casually mentioned there had been no sighting of the brutish man for a few days now. Relieved, Rick realized he'd just gotten one answer; why Carol Peletier suddenly felt brave enough to so publicly defy her husband with company he forbade her to keep. Recalling the clear and heartening sound of gleeful giggles at the usually grim grocery store, Rick Grimes sincerely hoped the man would never return.

Then came Thursday, the opening night of the Henry Ellis Middle School Contemporary Art Gallery. For one night only! After almost an entire week of artfully dodging his family drama, Rick Grimes had to prepare himself for all of it – at once.

Lori. Shane and him.

Three hours in a gymnasium at Carl's school, in the presence of the boy and all his friends.

And Michonne, a small voice in the back of Rick's mind added. Don't forget her.

He drove down, straight after work, with Shane in the car and his stomach in knots again. They hadn't been alone together all week. Rick made sure of that.

He toyed with the idea of turning the dial on the radio to any station on this green earth so he'd be spared the pain of pretense at least for another fifteen minutes. But then Rick thought better than to set off Shane, a big talker when in the passenger seat and a pretty perceptive lawman.

"So what kind of pieces you think will be on show tonight?" Shane chimed right on cue. "Cuz I'm not a big fan of all that big splosh of red paint on blank canvases shit. Anyone who had a mama with a lick of common sense knows that modern art is a con."

Rick replied with an indifferent grunt, focussing on the road ahead.

"Hey, d'you think that Michonne will be there tonight?"

Rick bit down his lip for a moment before responding calmly, making sure not to rise to the bait being dangled in front of him "I expect she will. She's the art teacher, it's her event."

"What do you think her deal is?" Shane said following up in predictable fashion and putting Rick on further alert.

"Her deal?"

Rick could hear Shane chuckle softly before coming out with what he'd been pressing at.

"Don't tell me that concealed weapon didn't strike as suspicious as hell.

"She has a permit." Rick said simply and Shane laughed again.

"Oh so it's gonna like that huh?" He said turning his entire body towards Rick. No longer able to ignore him, Rick shot the man next him a quick, dirty glance.

"Excuse me?"

Either oblivious or unconcerned by the look, Shane maintained his course. "I get it man. I got eyes too. She's hot so she's above questioning."

He wasn't sure when he became so cynical as to doubt everything Shane Walsh did, but right then Rick's gut told him the accusation being lobbied at him by his supposed best friend was expertly constructed to rile him up. Well, it worked.

Rick Grimes was furious.

"No, she's just some art teacher." Rick kept his voice as steady as he could but he was done playing defense. "Name me someone not carrying in this town and I'll listen."

Shane shrugged slightly, a smile playing on a mouth he kept thoroughly shut. Instead, he watched Rick, who deep down knew that he too should've been that smart.

"Why so interested partner? You got a horse in this race? If not, you oughta mind your own business. I got eyes too and from what they saw, she didn't take too kindly to your prying last time you met."

It came out a whole lot more menacing than Rick had intended, but the message had been sent and the recipient appeared sufficiently informed of whatever it was he was looking to discover tonight. Rick played his hand to soon and something told him he'd come to regret his short-sightedness before the end of the night.

"Ouch," Shane said light-heartedly, the truth in his dark eyes concealed by the harsh amber light, the last glimmers of sun. Rick focussed back onto the road.

"Feels like I should take that personally buddy – except I just was about to ask you why we ain't picking up Lori so maybe – just maybe, there is some truth to your words.

Things always appeared to bounce off Shane, until suddenly, they didn't. Rick was glad his words didn't escalate the situation, but he knew his friend well enough to see his kind of misdirection coming from a mile. Michonne wasn't the true goal.

His marriage was.

"I asked her but she said she had a stop to make."

Both of those things were lies. But Shane bought it – for now.

When they finally arrived, the parking lot was filled with seven graders, their parents and siblings, dressed in their finest and Rick felt like a fool rolling up still in his uniform.

Shane elbowed him playfully and whispered. "Man, I can't believe we showed up in the same outfit. This is some Grade A embarrassing shit."

Just like that, they were laughing together, loudly. And Rick Grimes was forced to leave his bad mood behind in the car.

Once they got inside, Rick was amazed to find the school gym had been completely transformed. Where there once stood run of the mill bleachers and a sports court with a series of colorful lines, now appeared a slick, pop-up art gallery. A maze of white screens, arranged expertly to showcase the art the children created, each piece far more professional looking than Rick had anticipated.

From the lack of wisecracking beside him, Rick could tell Shane too was convinced tonight wouldn't be the waste of time he dreaded. The place was beautifully lit by dim fairy lights but each work by each child had a spot light of its own, exposing it to maximum light without hurting the thought that went into creating a special atmosphere.

When Rick finally saw Michonne she was working a room full of impressed parents. Like Theo before her, she had begrudgingly won them over with her charm and 'usefulness'. She was a vision of beauty, causing Shane to shamefully whistle as they approached her.

Michonne was in a chic cream jumpsuit, her toned arms bare, with a single bracelet and matching rings on one hand and a small sparkling diamond wristwatch on the other. She wore rose gold earrings dangling from each ear, her neckline exposed and her hair tied up.

Then Rick saw it, the one thing wrong with the picture – the brown handbag hanging from her shoulder instead of a matching clutch bag in her hands.

She taught his son here. Carrying that thing.

That's when Rick decided. The next time they were alone, he was going to broach the subject. Anxiety ate away at his stomach as he imagined what trouble it was this beautiful woman was expecting to follow her into a school of all places.

"Michonne."

Shane greeted her first, leaning in to kiss her cheek, curving a single strong arm around her back as he did. It was an action that surprised the woman, but she smiled politely and in return kissed the air next his cheek.

Rick felt pressured to follow suit. This didn't seem like a handshake kind of event.

He was convinced the quick peck lasted an age. The tension in the air rising noticeably as he felt Shane's eyes on him. But as Rick leaned in, he extended both his arms, pulling Michonne in for a fuller embrace than planned. He aimed for her cheek, connected warmly and gently but found himself hovering over her mouth for a second when he moved away. Her eyes followed suit, first landing on his lips then locking onto his blue ones.

He held her still in his arms, for longer than he had any right to and he felt her stiffen. Just when he believed she would pull away from him, she leaned right back in and connected her soft full lips with his cheek.

The impression it left burnt. No doubt leaving behind a faint pink stain of disgrace for everyone else to see.

Yet Rick didn't feel the need to immediately wipe away at the place she marked him; and for that and all the other thoughts crossing his mind, a mix of shame and sadness rose inside him

When it ended, Rick could see, from the corner of his eye, that Shane Walsh had been watching them the entire time. Feeling like an idiot who just fell for a trap that had been carefully up set for him, Rick cursed himself inwardly.

Was Shane always this dastardly or was he projecting his own fears onto a man innocent of wrongdoing or carefully thought out duplicity.

"This is all so impressive." Rick finally said, breaking the tension by returning the topic to the reason why they'd all gathered in the first place.

Michonne smiled warmly, her face far more unbothered by Shane's scrutinizing eyes. "Thank you. The kids worked hard all week. I just climbed the ladder."

Rick couldn't help himself but continue to laud her with admiration. "Well you bring the best out of them. My son couldn't stop talking about it."

"Ah yes, Carl."

Rick nodded, his mind transported to the time he saw them together after school.

"He's a great kid," Michonne said, her voice full of genuine affection for his son. "Volunteered to stay behind after school and set up. He has great natural affinity for art, a great eye."

"He's over there, guarding his piece." She pointed to his son in the center of the room surrounded by a group of admirers. "He really does take pride in the work and he should."

Shane's face was beaming with pride too as all three of them grinned at the boy caught up in his own little world. "Aw the little show off, working the room in his little bow tie. My man."

With that Shane abandoned Rick and Michonne to go find his other best friend. Rick felt a little twitch in his heart as he watched another man embrace his son first. The sound of high fives and loud roaring filled the room and seeing the happiness on Carl's face, Rick pushed aside his own fears about a future that felt less and less like a fable and more and more like fact.

He felt Michonne's gentle hand on his shoulder, pulling him back to this moment.

"We're all very proud of him." She whispered beside him.

Rick turned slightly to face her, feeling a sudden burst of courage to cover her hand with his. He shot her a grateful smile and prayed to God she couldn't read the contents of his heart. Or worse, he hers.

Averting her eyes suddenly, Michonne cleared her throat before asking a question with an even more sobering effect than the last. "Will Carl's mother be joining us?"

Instantly disconnecting. Rick answered with lowered eyes of his own

"Yep, she's just running a little late."

"I see."

They were suddenly standing shoulder to shoulder, eyes fixed on Carl and Shane – a healthy and crucial gap between them.

Rick felt his throat burn uncomfortably.

"She can't wait to meet you." He said without any real thought.

If Michonne knew he was blatantly fabricating Lori's interest in meeting her, she didn't let on. Instead he heard her clear her own throat uncomfortable too.

"Looking forward to it."

"Yep."

"I'll give you guys a tour once you're all together."

"Sounds great." Rick said thinking the exact opposite.

The silences between them were lasting much longer now and Rick wondered why he didn't just follow Shane to go greet his son. Just as he thought it, Carl spotted him in the distance with Michonne and waved. Rick smiled in an unfamiliar and incredibly overzealous fashion hoping the boy would have the sense to come join them.

But Carl, as easily distracted as all kids his age were, only had time for his buddy Shane. The young boy was in the middle of showing around the fellow deputy sheriff as if he were a piece of art himself.

"Great kid."

He heard Michonne awkwardly murmur beside him, her voice this time quite stilted, the goal clearly to just try and break up the prolonged silence.

Having had enough of the unnecessary yet noticeable discomfort between them, Rick decided to turn to face the woman fully. He was a grown man capable of restraint and polite conversation and by God, that's what he was going to show her tonight.

A good time. Or so to speak.

"So how have you been?" Rick asked lamely.

"Good."

"Settled okay?"

Michonne smiled wryly at the question. "I was told like a duck takes to water."

Rick laughed at the expression coming from those lips, those enticing lips. Drawn to them, to her and lost in the moment, he took another step closer before whispering in her ear longingly.

"Must be the most charming duck I've ever laid my eyes on then."

Michonne flinched, waking up Rick to what he'd just done.

"Rick."

Instantly mortified, Rick's heart hammered at his chest, thundering to escape his body and get away from the scene of the crime.

"Sorry. I'm so sorry. I have no idea what overcame me. I – "

He tried to place a hand on her arm, to apologize and reassure her he knew he had crossed boundaries, but Michonne moved aside swiftly to prevent any further physical contact between them.

"No." She said, harsher than Rick would've liked, before thankfully adding. "No, it's okay."

"No, it's not." Rick said hearing the anguish in his own voice clearly. "I didn't mean what I said."

Michonne's eyes narrowed briefly at the lie but she spared him any further pain.

"It's fine."

"Lori should be here – s-soon." He stammered, his feet already on their way out of this mess. "I should go be with Carl."

"Yes – no wait."

She grabbed his arm.

Rick froze. He turned back and found her looking at him with big brown eyes filled with concern.

"Is everything okay. At home. With Carl."

The embarrassment of mere minutes ago, now instantly a distant memory at the mere mention of his son and that look in her eyes, Rick returned to his place – standing before her with similar worry in his.

Unsure, Michonne proceeded. "I don't mean to cross a line here – "

"But since I already did you may as well follow suit right?" Rick interjected, no idea where this bravado was coming from. But she had something to tell him, something important by the sound of it and Rick knew she needed encouraging.

"Right." She said smiling and appearing a little more at ease.

"I'm worried about Carl." Michonne finally admitted. "I don't know him well enough to be sure but – something seems off."

"What do you mean." Rick asked, shaking on the inside at the prospect of one more precious thing in his life falling apart without him having even realized.

"Look at him." Michonne whispered and Rick did.

"He's a great kid."

She offered him a sad smile. "Yes that he is."

"But he seems a little too great."

Rick frowned at the statement, uncertain as to how to take it.

"I don't know. Maybe it's just me." She said in an uncharacteristically small voice.

He could feel her hesitation. "No, say what you mean."

The expression on her face grew resolute and serious.

"He seems to always be 'on', laughing louder than anyone else, always ready to stay behind at school. On Mondays he helps out with the drama club, he is set manager. On Tuesdays and Thursdays, he is equipment manager for the varsity football team. I'm not sure he even enjoys football."

She let out a loud sigh before continuing.

"Then on Wednesdays and Fridays, he stays behind with me. Insisting he is the first member of a non-existent art club."

Rick attempted a laugh but his throat felt constricted.

"So what? Your great problem is that my son is helpful, engaging and involved in extra curriculars."

Michonne simply shook her head and he knew what was about to follow.

"No Rick, my problem is that he isn't ready to go home when that bell sounds."