Rick jolted awake, panting, the top sheet clinging to his sweaty body. A light breeze from the open window caressed his chest, inducing him to shiver.

Michonne's soft hand touched his toned thigh under the sheet. He flinched, having temporarily forgotten that she'd spent the night in his bed.

She yawned. "Are you okay?"

He covered her hand with his own. "Yeah. Just a nightmare."

"What about?" she asked, gently massaging his muscle.

"Carl," Rick said. He paused, not sure if he was ready to divulge his most deep-seated anxieties. He feared speaking the words would manifest them into reality. His desire for comfort, however, propelled him forward.

"It's this recurring nightmare I have, from time to time. Carl and I are being attacked by a horde. I'm fighting them off with one hand and holding Carl's with the other. I suddenly hear him scream from behind me and turn to find him overrun by zombies." Rick took a deep breath, his heart palpitating at the terrifying image still imprinted in his mind.

"You can tell me," Michonne said, squeezing his thigh.

Rick silenced the fear and continued. "My grip on his hand is the only thing connecting us. And then I'm suddenly too weak to hold onto him and he screams as he gets pulled into the horde. I hear a gunshot before the dream ends, usually with me waking up in a cold sweat."

Michonne listened, her body still. When he finished she said, "You will always be strong enough to save Carl. No matter what you have to do. Right?"

"Right," Rick said, nodding. He smiled at the thought of waking up next to this woman, his partner and confidant, every day, for the rest of his life.

"What?" she asked.

"You know you're moving into this bedroom with me, right?"

Michonne laughed. "What about Carl?"

"Carl is a teen going on thirty. He'll understand. I bet he's been rooting for us to get together this entire time, considering how close you two already are."

"Being a friend and being a stepmother are two completely different things. I would hate for this to affect our friendship and hope he doesn't think I'm trying to replace his mother."

Rick leaned down to kiss Michonne, more interested in her lips than her words. She moaned, energizing every inch of his body.

He ended the kiss with a soft nibble to her lip. "We'll talk to him together and explain that's not what is happening here. We're a family now and need to discuss these kinds of things as such."

"Oh yeah? When did I officially become a member of the Grimes clan?"

"When you did that thing with your hips last night."

Michonne socked Rick in the arm and he laughed. He rolled over on her, maneuvering her to rest on top of him.

Michonne's earthy brown skin glowed in the moonlight. Freed from the guilt he'd felt with Lori, before and after her death, he said the words he longed to say their first night together, over five years ago.

"I love you," Rick said, without hesitation.

"I love you too," Michonne said, finding his eyes in the darkness.

He grabbed her hips, moving his hands slowly around to grip her behind. Michonne teased him with a swivel of her hips and he grunted like a wild boar.

"Time for round three, love," Michonne said as she leaned down to kiss him, reanimating his petrified heart.

Rick ran his palm along a thin crack in the east wall of Alexandria. "This, and any other weaknesses in the walls, will need to be repaired ASAP."

"I agree. Now that you all are here, we have the resources to finish this in no time," Deanna said, standing beside him. Though she barely reached Rick's shoulders, Deanna's presence loomed over him.

Deanna embodied a Congresswoman in both manner and spirit. He had never met a real politician in person, not counting his town's mayor, and she made him question his leadership for the first time in a while.

Were they supposed to lead Alexandria as a team? Or with her as the Queen and him as her First Knight? Michonne had a gift for reading people and he made a mental note to get her take on Deanna later; after another round of lovemaking.

"Is that why we're here, for manual labor?" Rick asked seriously.

Deanna smiled with the calm of a seasoned poker player. "No, but that is a plus." She clasped her hands behind her back, resuming her walk along the wall, with Rick following at her side. "I was never a religious person. My family and I attended church mostly on holidays or when the pastor guilted us into going. But in this world, you have to believe in something; otherwise you become another form of the walking dead." Deanna stopped to face him. "I believe in my gut and my gut tells me that we need you to survive. Not just to help us reinforce these walls but to give us hope again. And I want you and Michonne to help teach us how to stay alive outside of these walls. Our community needs to take back the power the dead stole from us."

"Why me and Michonne?" Rick asked. He knew how capable she was, but had been unaware that Deanna knew the same.

"You are a couple now, right?" she asked with a glimmer of a smile.

Rick's initial instinct was to tell her to mind her own business. However, he found himself wanting to reveal all, to share with someone – anyone – that he'd been reunited with his soul mate. "How…?"

Deanna chuckled. "My husband owes me a carton of Milk Duds."

Rick frowned in confusion.

"We made a wager on how long it would take the two of you to get together," Deanna said. "I guessed under a week. Reg guessed a month. I had a lot more confidence in your abilities to woo her."

Rick snorted. "Were we really that obvious?"

"Well, when you two moved in together, the single women here gave up all hope at having any chance with you."

Rick laughed, releasing the tension from his belly. "Well, Michonne and I do have quite the history."

"I'd love to hear about it."

"It's a long story."

"You and Michonne could never bore me. I mean, look at you two. You're the King and Queen of the apocalypse."

"I wouldn't go that far," he said, though the thought excited him. Michonne as his wife and partner made sense; more sense than anything had in a while.

"I do have one request."

"What?"

"Let me officiate the wedding."

"What are your qualifications?" Rick could not resist teasing the woman whose confidence made him believe civilization could be restored; maybe even in his lifetime.

"I've married three couples since we formed Alexandria, including Aaron and Eric. I'm pretty sure they'll vouch for me. I'm also a damn good MC."

"I don't doubt you are," Rick said, smiling. He paused. "Michonne and I met long before all of this – while I was married. Long story short, she kind of branded her name on my heart and finding her again is more than a coincidence – it's fate. It's a miracle, really."

"Coincidence is the manifestation of fate. If you're open to it, the right coincidence can change your life forever. I'm happy that you and Michonne have finally accepted your fate."

"Me too." Rick twirled the wedding ring on his finger. He planned to make the most of every day they spent together and no longer questioned his next move.

Rick returned home to find a note lying next to a warm plate wrapped in tinfoil. The words scribbled in Michonne's handwriting read: "Carl is having dinner at Ron's house. Don't let your spaghetti get cold." A large, sloppy heart ended the note.

Rick smiled and uncovered the plate to find warm aromatic spaghetti. He wrapped the noodles around his fork, shoveling them into his mouth, the tanginess of the sauce popping on his tongue. The noodles were cooked al dente, just the way he liked them; though he had never shared that information with Michonne.

Rick heard a door open and the creak of the floor boards above him as someone stomped towards the staircase.

"Rick, is that you?" Michonne called from the top of the stairs, hidden from his view.

"Yeah, just finishing up dinner," he said loud enough for his voice to carry. "Thanks for the noodles."

"They're al dente, but that's the way I like them. I'm going to take a shower."

"Ok," he said, scooping up the remnants of spaghetti sauce with the last remaining noodles. He strolled over to the kitchen sink as Michonne stomped her way to the bathroom. That woman walked like she had two bricks strapped to her feet.

Rick shook his head and smiled. He was learning more and more about her every day and loved every tidbit of information that brought him closer to knowing Michonne as a girlfried and not just as a warrior on the battlefield.

Rick finished rinsing his plate as Michonne turned on the shower. He wiped down the kitchen island counter and switched off the light, heading upstairs to Judith's room.

Rick found her asleep in her crib. She lay on her belly, having kicked the blanket away. Rick pulled the blanket up to her shoulders and rubbed his hand in gentle circles across her back. She gurgled in her sleep and Rick felt grateful these small, safe moments that living in Alexandria allowed. He kissed her tiny hand before leaving her to sleep in peace.

Rick found himself standing in front of the closed bathroom door. Over the spray of the water, Michonne hummed a song he had never heard before. It had the soothing rhythm of a lullaby and he again wondered about her past; if she'd had a child before walkers roamed the earth.

Rick slowly turned the doorknob, trying to make as little noise as possible. He managed to open the door enough to slip in and avoid detection, shutting it lightly.

Steam rose from the shower. Rick regarded the silhouette of Michonne's svelte body behind the frosty shower door. Her arms moved in small circles as she worked shampoo into her hair, the fragrance of peaches wafting in the steam.

He unfastened the buttons of his constable uniform, letting the shirt fall to the floor. He unzipped his fly and dropped his pants. His socks and boxers followed.

Michonne hummed the same lullaby, still unaware of his presence. Rick slid open the shower door. Water trailed down Michonne's body, enhancing the small muscles in her arms, thighs and buttocks. He bit his lip, fighting the urge to reach out and run his hands down her wet body. Her eyes were closed and he did not want to terrify her like some psycho.

"Want some company?" Rick asked, almost in a whisper.

Michonne whooped and lost her footing on the water-slick bathtub. Rick grabbed her waist to steady her.

"You should know better than to sneak up on a woman taking a shower," Michonne said, breathing hard, her eyes still closed and covered in shampoo suds.

"Sorry, but I had to get your attention somehow. You still haven't answered my question."

Michonne grinned. "Considering how bad you just scared me, I should send you away. Teach you a lesson."

He kissed her shoulder, running his tongue along the dripping beads of water. She arched her back.

"I guess I can let you off this one time," she said, giggling.

Rick stepped into the shower behind her, sliding the steamy door shut. "Can I ask you something?" He moved her soapy hands away from her head and replaced them with his own. He massaged her head.

Michonne moaned in response. "Sure."

"What was that song you were singing? It sounded like a lullaby, but I've never heard it before."

Michonne tensed, causing Rick to still his hands. She remained silent for some time before responding. "It's a song my mom used to sing to me and that I sang…to my son."

Rick had suspected she'd been a mom but had yet to work up the courage to ask her, not wanting to pick at a fresh scar. "You don't have to talk about him if you don't want to."

"No," she said in a whisper. "I do."

Rick grabbed a loofa from the shower hook and added a dollop of lavender shower gel. He massaged it with his hand until suds appeared. He lathered her lower back, waiting patiently for her to begin.

Michonne dipped her head into the stream of water, rinsing the remaining shampoo from her hair. She leaned back to rest against Rick's chest. "My son's name was Andre. And he died because of me; because I couldn't protect him."

Rick dropped the loofa and turned her to face him. He couldn't tell if it was tears or water streaming down her cheeks. The pain etched on her face tied his stomach into knots. "You were his mother. You would've given your life to protect him if you could have. You can't blame yourself for his death."

"Sometimes I wish…that he'd never been born."

Rick pulled Michonne into his arms. Her shoulders shook with silent sobs. "Andre was lucky to have you as a mother. Just like my kids and I are lucky to have you in our lives."

Michonne stood back. "You wouldn't say that if you realized how much of a coward I am."

"We're all afraid. What matters is that we don't run from the things we fear the most."

Michonne opened her lips to speak and Rick kissed her mouth before her words could escape. She returned the kiss, wrapping her arms around his neck. He pressed her slick body against the tiled shower wall, intent on showing her just how grateful he was to have her in his life.

Daryl and Rick drove in silence. Things had been tense between them since he and Michonne moved into the same house together. He had asked Daryl on this run in order to clear the air between them; and to hopefully get his brother back.

"Has Deanna given you a job yet?" Rick asked, his first words in seventeen miles.

"Naw," Daryl said, keeping his eyes focused on the scenery rushing by at the speed of the car.

"I don't know why not. You really aren't that hard to figure out. I had you pegged the first day I met you."

Daryl remained silent.

"What's with you, man?" Rick asked. "You've barely spoken a word to me since we got to Alexandria. How's it going with your roommates?"

"How's it going with yours?" Daryl asked in an accusatory tone.

Rick shifted his eyes from the road to Daryl. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Michonne. What's going on with you two? Are you datin' now?"

Rick detected the hostility in his voice. So this was about Michonne. He'd suspected that Daryl had feelings for her, but he'd been keeping his distance lately.

Rick needed to be clear about his intentions toward Michonne, even at the risk of losing his closest friend and brother. "I plan to propose to her – tonight. And I want you to help me find her a ring."

Daryl whipped his head around to study Rick. "You're serious."

"I was serious about her five years ago but I was married then. Now, I want to make it official."

Daryl sniffed, turning away from Rick to continue his perusal of the scenery. A side of Rick feared he had gone too far, that he should have eased Daryl into the news. The other side of him wanted to stake his claim on the woman he loved.

Rick pulled up to the pawn shop Deanna had told him about. He cut the engine and exited the car, Daryl following him. He walked up to the shop, peering through the bars of a window, broken shards of glass crunching beneath his boots. "Hello? Anyone in there?"

Rick rocked back as a rotting hand thrust through the bars where his head had just been a few seconds before. "Looks like we have company. Cover me." He turned to Daryl, still trusting the man with his life, no matter how pissed off he was about Michonne.

Daryl nodded and aimed his crossbow at the front door of the pawn shop. Rick unsheathed his hunting knife.

Rick pushed on the front door, a bell ringing as it swung open. Footsteps shuffled in their direction. Based on the sound, he counted two walkers approaching.

The first walker staggered through the door, dressed in soiled skinny jeans and a trucker cap. Daryl shot an arrow through the center of its skull. The walker plopped to the ground like a sack of potatoes. The second walker followed close behind, a female in a checkered sundress. She stumbled straight into the blade of Rick's knife, plunking down onto her partner in crime.

The two men listened for signs of additional walkers, finding none.

"All clear," Rick said, waving for Daryl to follow him.

Rays from the afternoon sun streamed through the windows, illuminating the floating dust. Rick remained vigilant, in case a walker decided to make a surprise appearance. He looked through the display case, in search of an engagement ring for Michonne, only to find the contents missing.

"Damnit," Rick said. He walked toward the back of the store. The door leading to the cage behind the display case stood ajar. Rick inspected the floor for any abandoned loot, only to discover a dead walker with blood caked around his mouth. He walked out of the cage, stopping short of Daryl's hand, held at the level of his face. In his fingers, he clutched a diamond ring.

"How did you…" Rick's shock thwarted his ability to finish. He reached out to take the ring, the diamond shining brilliantly in the dappled sunlight.

"I swiped it off the female walker. Looks like Michonne's size."

Rick ignored the jealousy that stirred at realizing Daryl could gauge his future wife's ring size. "Thanks, man."

"Just don't break her heart. 'Cause I'll be there to pick up the pieces."

Rick frowned at the borderline threat. "You don't have to worry about that."

"Good." Daryl stuck out his hand and Rick gripped it in return, accepting what felt oddly like a truce. "Congrats, man. I wish you two the best of luck."

"Thanks, that means a lot coming from you." Rick smiled in relief, ready to return home and prepare the night he hoped Michonne would never forget.

"But I don't want to sleep over at Ron's," Carl whined, crossing his arms. "I have a stack of X-men comics I want to get through."

"Do me this favor, just once," Rick said, plopping an overnight bag on top of Carl's folded arms. "I'm the one who found you those comics."

"That was actually Michonne. Where is she anyway?"

"She's manning the tower with Sasha and should be home any minute."

"Is that why you want me to leave? So you and Michonne can be alone?" Amusement twinkled in Carl's clear blue eyes. "It's okay. I already know about you two."

"Know what exactly?"

"That you're together. Like a couple," Carl said as though he were stating the obvious.

Carl's calm gaze reassured Rick to continue. "We were planning on telling you sometime soon. How long have you known?"

"A week."

"A week?"

"Yeah. I got up in the middle of the night to pee and heard you guys in your room. You aren't exactly…quiet."

Embarrassment flooded Rick's cheeks, as though he'd been caught sneaking a girl into his room. "I'm sorry you had to find out that way, but I guess there's nothing to be done about it now. How do you feel about it? About Michonne and I being a couple?"

"I'm just surprised it took you guys so long. Michonne is my favorite person in the world, after you and Judith."

Rick exhaled. He loved Michonne, but he would always put Carl's happiness above his own. And he knew Michonne felt the same way. "I'm glad. I want us to be a family some day."

"Me too. Plus, I've always wanted a little brother."

Rick laughed and hugged his son. "I have a lot to do before Michonne gets home." He guided Carl by the shoulders to the front door. "Have fun tonight. And I love you, son."

"Love you too, Dad," Carl said as he headed out the door.

Rick watched Carl stroll toward Ron's house before closing the front door. The conversation about his relationship with Michonne had gone easier than expected, for which he was grateful. Everything was finally falling into place, with only one more hurdle left to jump.

Rick rushed to the kitchen to check the dish baking in the oven. He had cooked the only thing he knew how to make with the items available in Alexandria's inventory - tuna casserole.

The front door opened just as Rick finished fitting two candles into silver candlesticks, at the center of a round, cloth-covered table. He admired his work – the two white china plates set on opposite ends, each with a fork, spoon and knife set beside them.

"I'm home," Michonne announced from the foyer. "Where are you?"

"In the dining room," he called to her. He straightened, placing one hand on the back of a chair. He adjusted the knot in the bow tie around his neck, needing the space. The restrictive tuxedo he'd borrowed from Deanna's husband stretched tight across his broad shoulders. He wanted to make this night as magical as possible for Michonne, so he could endure a few more hours in a suit for her.

Michonne gasped, throwing a hand across her chest, as she entered the dining room. "What is this?"

"This is my way of saying thank you – for coming into my life again." He moved around the table to stand in front of her. Grabbing her shoulders, he said, "I don't know where, or who, I'd be if it weren't for you." He pecked her on the lips, not giving her the sloppy kiss he knew she was expecting. "Now, head upstairs and take a shower. I left a little present for you on your bed."

Rick turned her towards the stairs and tapped her on the bottom, propelling her to walk forward. Michonne turned and beamed at him. He could hardly wait to ask this woman to be his wife.

Michonne glided down the stairs in the black silk cocktail dress and black heels he had found on the run with Daryl. He gaped at the way the material swished across her thighs and the black contrasted with the nutty brown hues of her skin. He swallowed, his eyes lingering on the outline of her nipples, the absence of a bra making them as clear as stars on a cloudless night.

Rick cleared his throat. "I knew that would look beautiful on you." He kissed her on the cheek at her approach, pulling out her chair. "Madam."

"Thank you." Michonne chuckled and took her seat. She sniffed the air. "Smells delicious."

Rick poured her a glass of wine the color of her plum lipstick. "Have some wine while I add the final touches to dinner." He leaned down to nip her exposed shoulder.

"Dinner first," Michonne said in a husky voice.

"Whatever you like," Rick said, heading for the kitchen. He pulled the casserole dish from the oven, sprinkling crushed potato chips on top. He carried the casserole dish on a wooden slab into the dining room.

Rick placed the dish on the table and took his seat across from Michonne. Her smile sparkled and he battled the impulse to propose to her before dinner. Rick poured himself a glass of wine and raised it high in the air. Michonne raised her glass in response.

"To us." Rick smiled.

"To us," Michonne said, her eyes glassy.

They took a sip of wine together, lowering their glasses. "Bon Appetit," Rick said.

During dinner, he and Michonne mostly discussed Alexandria – potential risks, likely threats, the need to grow food for the expanding population.

"Let's just hope no one gets pregnant anytime soon," Michonne said, taking a sip of her wine.

"Carl wants a younger brother."

Michonne choked on her wine. "What? Carl? Does he know about us?"

"Yes," Rick said. "And he couldn't be happier about it."

She smiled. "That's reassuring. I'll need to have my own talk with him tomorrow, just so he knows that things won't change between us."

"How do you feel about that? Having a baby…together."

Michonne paused mid-sip, squinting at him over her glass. She lowered her wine glass. "Why would you think I'd want another child after Andre?"

Rick bristled at the anger in her voice. "You're so good with Judith and Carl. I thought you might want to mother another child, now that we're relatively secure in Alexandria."

"Well you thought wrong," Michonne said, grabbing her wine glass and downing the remainder. She put her head in her hands. "I'm sorry. I don't know where this anger is coming from.

Rick stood and went to her. He bent down on one knee and took one of her hands in his own. She looked down at him, tears pooling in her eyes. "Rick, what are you doing?"

"I know this is shitty timing, but I couldn't wait any longer to ask you." Rick removed a black ring box from his suit jacket pocket. He flipped it open and raised it up toward Michonne. "Even if you don't want a baby, or even if you end up wanting five or ten or twenty babies, you're the only woman I want as the mother of my children. You're the only one I want as my partner, for life. Michonne, will you marry me?"

Michonne wept, tears streaming in rivets down her cheeks. Rick handed her his pocket handkerchief. Michonne used it to staunch her rushing tears and blew her nose. He waited for her response, the suspense holding him on the edge of a cliff.

She sniffled, streaks of salty tears drying on her cheeks. Michonne took a deep breath. "Rick, I…" she began.

He squeezed her hand lightly. "Yes?"

"Rick," Michonne said, finally meeting his gaze. "I have something to tell you. I can't lie to you any longer."

A/N: I hoped you enjoyed this latest chapter! I hope to update soon, but this is definitely a busy summer. Thanks again for all of the awesome reviews and faves and follows! I promise not to keep you hanging for too long.