In the middle of the night Judith was fussy, Michonne sat up quickly on her least injured side. Her ears perked for what the little girl might need. Rick began to stir as well, as Michonne looked at the baby monitor and threw the covers off her naked body.
Feeling the cool air on his backside, Rick jumped up before her. "Don't you dare get up, woman. I got her."
"I thought she would settle down." Michonne said feeling guilty for not being the first one to their daughter.
"I did too." He agreed, pulling on his boxer briefs and tossed Michone one of her night shirts. "You mind if I bring her in here with us?"
"Of course not." Judith's was starting cry in earnest now. "Just hurry up and get my baby."
Rick returned with the little blonde resting on his shoulder rubbing her eyes. As soon as he reached the bed she nearly jumped out of his arms reaching for her mother. His two girls snuggled up to one another and down into the mattress. Rick knew mommy's rule: No talking in bed until Judith was sleep again, or their rosy-cheeked baby girl would think it was a slumber party and be up all night. So he and Michonne locked eyes smiling at each other in the moonlight, waiting for Judith to wind down. It didn't take long before baby Grimes was still and breathing lightly under Mama Bear's arm, her breast acting as her pillow.
"She's asleep." Mommy finally spoke to Daddy in the faintest of voices.
""Want me to take her back?"
"No. Let her stay." Michonne looked down at the golden silky strands of her hair and inhaled the sweet baby smell that the little one seemed to be losing a bit of day by day. "She's getting big too fast."
"But she's in my spot." Rick whispered with playful jealousy.
Michonne giggled very quietly, reaching out for his hand. They made contact over the little body between them. Daddy kissed the back of Mommy's hand and soon they were a trio of nothing more than inhales and exhales.
7:02 am Day 3
A knock at the door introduces Rick and Michonne to a gray morning. Their waking movements finally bring Judith out of a drooling slumber.
"Yeah?" Rick calls through the door, eyes barely open and tired muscles griping, as he grabs a pair of jeans and slides them up his legs.
"I was gonna get Judith for you guys this morning." Carl's muffled voice came back.
Michonne, still donning her little nightshirt, decided not to leave the comfort of the bed or attempt any of her form-fitting pants on her bruised rear end. "You can come in." she sanctioned, after determining she was sufficiently covered by the swirl of sheets around her. After being gone most of yesterday, she was happy to hear Carl's voice and see his face under his bandaged eye and limp brown hair.
"Hey." He peeked in fully dressed and Judith lit up, crawling the length of the bed to get to his ready arms.
"Hey." Michonne returned. "You're taking Judith?" A curious expression took over her face. Carl's longtime comrade was resting her elbow in the dent of her pillow, lazily palming the side of her face.
"Yeah. I wanted to get her first thing..." he turned her upside down, making the baby giggle as he did a quick smell check. He seemed pleased and continued, "...change her, feed her- give you guys a chance to sleep in. I know you're tired.
Michonne was still suspicious, "But you had her all day yesterday."
His 'world's-best-son' act started to crumble and he pursed his lips sideways, shifting on his feet, "Well it's not just me," he confessed. "Carol is making everyone keep Judith for an hour a piece today so you can get some rest. I get her first since I'm already here. Then she goes to her favorite guy. Then Glenn and Mag-"
"Wait a minute. I thought I was Judith's favorite guy?" Rick interrupted.
Michonne looked at him with an unconvinced smirk, "I thought Carl was."
"You're both wrong." the growing teenager informed them with a shrug. "Her favorite guy is Daryl." He tilted his head to his baby sister and bounced her on his hip. "Right, Jude? She nodded and babbled something that almost sounded like a yes and the room hummed with giggles.
"Wait, why am I resting, though?" Michonne wondered.
"Maybe because you got hurt yesterday and dad had to carry you through the streets with thorns in your butt..." Carl began to state the obvious.
"Oh, come on." Michonne interrupted, rolling her eyes with a chuckling sigh. "I'm fine. I do not need to be fussed over like I'm some baby."
"Hey! You're my baby." Rick took exception, reaching over pinching her cheek.
Now Carl rolled his eyes, embarrassed at his father's displays but secretly thankful that this affection was for a woman as incomparable as Michonne. "Great." He commented, falling back on dry sarcasm to address the happy scene before him, "So we're gonna go." He began to make his exit with Judith waving goodbye over his shoulder.
"Wait, Carl!" Michonne called him back, her mind moving to a new concern now, "How many people know about..." she narrowed her eyes trying to chose the right words to downplay her injuries.
"What? About how you got taken out by a bush?" He helped her out with a bit of brass.
She heard Rick chuckle at Carl's description, "No." Michonne corrected her smart-Alec son with a threatening glare in Rick's direction, "I was going to say- how many people know about my little... mishap?"
"Everybody!" Carl seemed very entertained, answering with delight. "Everyone's talking about it..." Carl began to laugh, "Abraham said you'll be quoting more scriptures than Gabriel, now that you're so 'holey'."
A humorous snort escaped Rick again and he quickly turned to his dresser drawer, pretending to look for something to avoid Michonne's evil-eye but he could feel the burn of her stare in his back. He made his way to his toothbrush to escape anymore repercussions.
"I'll see you guys later." Carl made his way to the door as Michonne's jaw tensed.
But her motherly instincts trumped her irritation, "You both need jackets today. It looks chilly out!" Michonne provided instructions to her children as the door closed behind them.
"Look, Chonne. If they want to take the baby for a couple hours, why make a stink about it? You need the rest." Rick made the argument as he walked over, drying his face with a towel and locked the bedroom door- a telltale move that did not escape his observant bed-mate's attention.
Cutting her eyes at Rick, all too aware of his ulterior motives for wanting her to "rest" baby-free, she chided, "If people want me to get some rest, they need to take turns watching you, not Judith."
'I won't deny it..." He twanged making his way to her over the sheets, "I am happy to get my spot back." He snuggled up to where Judith had been, resting his cheek on that same pillowy breast. "Ahhhh," he exaggerated an exhale of contentment, "It's good to be back." He looked up from under the triangle of her bicep and forearm supporting her head, laden with her unruly locs falling everywhere around her face. He hoped to catch her enticing dark brown eyes smiling back at his antics.
But no, she was still deep in thought. Her face was still trained to their bedroom door, when Rick, hungry for her attention, pulled one of her spongy locs signaling his bid for a kiss, which she obliged him- meeting his lips upside down, with a nose to chin reversal. He could see she was still distracted. "Hey?" He re-positioned himself to mirror her pose on the bed, resting his head on a raised fist, his other hand pulling consolingly at the fleshy arch of her battered hip. "What's wrong?" he asked with real concern as he noticed her lack of excitement at the jackpot of more time alone together. Despite the overcast skies outside, he was anticipating bathing in the warm radiance of her happy smile all morning but she could only muster a single curl at the edge of her lips.
"I don't want people thinking I'm... not myself just because I'm with you now." she revealed somewhat dejected, looking right into his absorbing blues.
"Nobody thinks that." He rejected the idea swiftly and completely.
"Yeah, people do. You're not a woman. So you don't know." She corrected him as she silenced his soft pink lips with her fingertips. "We're either, too strong or too soft, too pretty or not pretty enough, the kind that fights or the kind that nurtures. People never assume that we can be more than one kind of woman. And when you add a relationship to the mix- especially a relationship with a man in your position- people are going to think, 'Good. Now she can drop the whole bad ass act and just... fade'... into... all your... Rickness." They both chuckled in accord at her newly invented term. "Sorry. I couldn't think of better word, but you know what I'm saying."
"So let me get this straight," he took his fist from his temple, sitting up more attentively on his elbow, "you basically just want everyone to know that Michonne is still a bad ass?"
They both snickered again.
"Don't make it sound trivial." She said, shoving his shoulder back and giving him that big bright smile he was looking for. "I'm serious!"
"Me too!" He assured her. "Look, baby, I don't make a lot of promises." He took her hand firmly in his, "They're so hard to keep 'cos you never know what might happen day to day. But some things don't require promises, they're just undeniable truths. And one of those truths is that: everyone will always know you are Princess Bad ass.
Michonne's mouth dropped open taking slight offense, "Not Queen Bad ass?"
Rick delicately ventured to explain, "Uhh...sorry, 'Chonne. I'm pretty sure Carol holds that title." He made her double over laughing and continued speaking over her fracturing, "That's why everyone agreed to take our diaper-wearing infant for an hour today and you're sitting here pouting..." They both laughed heartily at his assessment, "but you didn't go against her orders, did you?"
"No I did not. I am not fucking with Carol." They continued to crack up together.
"Our people know you and these new folks will know how bad ass Michonne is too... even if you do melt under all this Rickness." He said as he confidently turned her over slowly onto her back, careful not to cause her any pain, dispensing little pecks of sweetness all over her coffee-colored face.
Her giggle fit gradually dissolved underneath him. "You think so?"
"I know so." He interrupted his barrage of kisses, pulling back for emphasis, "If anyone gets out of line, I'm sure you'll remind them of your bad ass ways real quick." He brought her hand up to the back of his head, "I think I still have lump back here from that time you had to remind me."
"Oh, shut up!" she grinned, twisting his sleek curls through her fingers, "You do not have any lumps because of me."
"Ok, maybe that one's gone, but there's definitely one in my pants right now." He pressed his thick manhood against her hip as it began to grow, filling with desire. "Sucks that Carol's making you rest." he whispered in her ear hot like the burn of whisky as his timbre traveled over her tingling skin.
Michonne's eyes closed as her legs fell open to him. He looted her lips until his tongue fell upon hers, tasting the lingering of last night's spearmint and baking soda. "Carol took the baby... mmmm..." she moaned as he found her breast, squeezing his hand around it. Michonne had to start her sentence again and focus on her words, "She took the baby and left the bag of apples... she knows as well as we do, that that is entrapment."
"But, really, baby, if you're too sore from yesterday..." the shirtless temptation above her offered her an out.
"Still talking shit, huh?" She shook her head, misunderstanding his meaning.
But Rick was quick to clarify, "No," he grinned, "I mean from when you fell... your scratches. I don't want to hurt you."
Michonne sighed, "Shut up and fuck me, Rick." She mumbled through a kiss and pulled back, pointing her finger up at him with a new rule: "Don't forget: I'm a damn bad ass."
"Yes ma'am. You don't have to tell me twice." He pulled her only article of clothing over head and she wiggled out of her shirt to help him. Rick was overjoyed once her delicious breasts bounced free and her naked body laid spread out before him. The pads of her fingertips slid swiftly up his neck again, followed by the grazing of her nails over his scalp as she pulled at a tuft of hair guiding his mouth down to her nipples.
Arching her back, she silently encouraged him to suck. The forceful pull of his tongue, framed by his nearly white beard, made her feel like metal vibrating under a magnet's control, as he moved expertly from one pointed bit of dark, shrunken flesh over to the next.
Completely caught up in her perfection, he quickly forgot that she bore brand new abrasions as his hands descended, devouring her solid succulent skin 'til he reached his preferred place to grasp her tightly. Like the grip of his hatchet, machete, or Colt Python he squeezed those equally deadly curves causing Michonne to inhale sharply through her teeth at the dulling pain. "Sorry, 'Chonne." Rick quickly apologized through a rasp, "I forgot that quick..."
The sudden throe may have caught her off guard, but she was familiar with the route his hands took when the measure of her man stiffened like a shallow lake in winter. She daydreamed about their intimate moments whenever she was not in the midst of one. She knew every step, every beat of this dance, even when he surprised her- she knew Rick Grimes. She had smiled knowingly, bracing herself when she felt his palms dragging southward and immersed herself wholly in the intense sensation of his heedless craving.
The pain she felt was no match to her glowing pride in effectively summoning his most feral instincts without any effort whatsoever. Only her being was needed to sweep him into the undertow of their passion. Still smirking, Michonne gave him reprieve, closing her eyes and slowly shaking her head. "Don't stop." she ordered him, even as her breath hitched from the discomfort. He hesitated, looking up to her with his water-color eyes set ablaze, his lips parted to protest. But Michonne lifted a finger to her lips. Her other hand palmed his crown, pushing his face gently to the moistening crux of her thighs, where Rick had every intention of obeying her order not to stop.
All the arteries feeding his erection began to seethe at hearing her say what she wanted from him without shame and pirating what she needed from him without reservation. He lagged his teeth over her skin, descending to the heart of his kingdom, his domain, wrapped in thin slick folds of delicate flesh. He entered the sacred double doors with the tip of his rigid tongue and every inch of her heralded his presence with euphoric allegiance.
"Oh! Yes." She blurted as her legs tensed. Rick detained her thighs, pushing them apart with such aggression, Michonne thought it possible she'd end up with her own bowlegged strut. "Rick, yes! All of it! Take it... All of it!" Soon she panted out her release, holding his head in place and coating his facial hair with her glossy glaze. He sounded out his gruff appreciation, droning out wanton moans of his own into her depths. Nestling her seat in the loving hold of his cupped hands, he raised her center closer to his face, like a bowl of elixir that transforms boys to men and men to gods. He pulled out as much of her sweetness as he could, drinking her down. Michonne twitched with pleasure like the gears of a clock and Rick was proud to tell the time. Her falsetto invited him to the main event. He sat up quickly on his knees to let his hulking member spring loose from his jeans and- catching her in the middle of her high- catapulted her like a rocket, zipping through the hazy clouds.
Face to face with her again, this time, with the smell of her essence smeared on his lips and intoxicating them both, Rick pulled her body onto his and planted his back into the mattress. His hands splayed across her middle, his fingers hooked and digging into her abs and the lower ribs of her back, he held on as Michonne rode him closer to his completion. "You feel so good…' she strangled out the words as she whimpered, "Rick, you feel... Fuck! You feel so good… so good... so fucking good… fucking… good…" She was glitching, lost in a loop of arousal and satisfaction as she brought him deeper inside herself, his unbending, soul-searching cock hastening to a dead stop at her core with every forceful bounce.
"Chonne." Rick's voice broke over her name weakly. He answered her repetitious song using her own words to announce another undeniable truth, "Yes, you are, baby. Yes you are… so fuck'n good!"
She switched from a jacking motion to a grind, so grueling for them both, that her hips barely made a full series of revolutions around his beefy bare cock before he succumbed to her, simultaneously filling her up and pulling her down as her climax drizzled all over the length of his diminishing shaft.
Their chests heaved in unison as their sense of sight and sound gradually returned and she lifted a knee to slowly roll off the man she adored.
Planting her face in her pillow, then pulling closer to the wasted captive sprawled out beside her, she smiled through heavy lids and thick lashes, "Let that be a lesson to you, Grimes…" she huffed, barely able to speak, "and don't forget..."
"I'll never forget it…" his breath was so ragged, "as long as I live." he swore, sweeping his damp hair back from his flushed and heavenly face. "Michonne is a fuck'n bad ass… Shit."
A/N:
I've gotten a couple reviews concerning Rick calling Carol the queen.
Don't read too much into that, as the conversation had taken a more
lighthearted turn. Everyone may have their favorites, but I don't
believe we can rank the women of TF and I don't think any of them
would consider themselves "the queen" when there are so many
capable, beautiful, intelligent women in the group.
That part of this fic is about Rick teasing Michonne. It is not about him
putting Carol above any of the other bad ass chicks in the group,
especially his baby Michonne.
Thanks for feedback guys. I love how y'all ready to come for my head
when it comes to Michonne! LOL
(She's MY baby, too)