A/N: This chapter is stupid long (and I didn't even fit in everything I wanted to), so I'm not gonna say a lot, except THANK YOU GUYS SO MUCH. You are my sunshine! -Ash

5 - You Make Me Wanna…

December 1997.

"Are you sure she's not home?"

Michonne pressed her head against her headrest, staring at the ceiling of her friend's F-150, trying her best to not completely roll her eyes at his worry. "I know you've already scanned the parking lot probably twice by now. Do you see her car?"

Rick smiled in spite of himself, though he couldn't help but peer up to the apartment Michonne and Lori shared, waiting for some sign that his ex-girlfriend was up there, just waiting to ruin his good night. "I just… don't wanna see her right now."

"Then I guess it's a good thing she's not home." Maintaining her chipper mood, she grabbed her purse and pushed open her door. "Come on."

Reluctantly, he followed behind her, his hands stuffed in his jacket pockets despite the mild weather. He distractedly watched Michonne saunter along the winding walkway to her apartment, his eyes involuntarily drawn to her deliciously rotund rear in her hip-hugging jeans as they made their way up the steps. He usually felt so comfortable with her, but the thought of being alone with her in this apartment made him atypically uneasy. "Is there a reason we couldn't just go back to my place?" he called after her.

"Because your apartment smells like feet and your new roommate is an asshole," she shot back as she dug through her purse for her keys. "But we don't have to chill if you don't want to."

"No, I want to," he nodded nervously. Their movie outing was certainly fun, but spending two hours in a dark theater didn't exactly give them much opportunity to actually talk. And she was one of few people he genuinely enjoyed doing that with. "I just don't wanna do it here."

"Stop being so weird," she demanded with a smile that didn't match her tone. "Worst case scenario, she sees us hanging out and she gets jealous," she joked. "She could use a taste of her own medicine."

"This is true," he grinned, slipping into the apartment behind her. "But either way, I'm done with the whole thing."

Michonne wasn't sure what to say to that, as her experience with Lori and Rick was that they were never quite done with one another, no matter what they claimed. "You want anything?"

"I got it," he nodded, surverying the familiar space. He hadn't been over there in a few weeks now, but the fact that their apartment constantly smelled of fresh laundry and vanilla was enough reason to hang out there without Lori. He shrugged off his jacket and laid it over a chair on top of Michonne's before heading into the kitchen. "What are we watchin'?"

Michonne got comfortably settled into her green leather couch, watching Rick rummage through their refrigerator for a beer, presumably. "Nothing's on TV on Fridays," she answered, grabbing the remote from the coffee table. "You wanna watch another movie?"

"We can…"

"By the way, you're taking me to see Titanic next week, so prepare yourself." By then, he was strolling back into the living room to join her, and even beneath the low brim of his cap, she could see the disgust in his eyes. "Do you have a problem with that?"

"I don't have a problem," he smirked, plopping down beside her. "I'm just… tryin' to figure out when I agreed to that."

"You agreed to that when I agreed to see Scream 2 with you," she shot back, adding another saccharin sweet smile for good measure.

If he hadn't been sitting down, he was certain her smile would've knocked him off his feet. "But I thought you wanted to see it."

"You are a damn lie," she giggled, both of them shifting on the couch to rest their feet on the coffee table at practically the same time. "Did you at least enjoy it?"

"I loved it," he nodded, cracking open his can of Heineken. "I thought it was even better than the first one."

She scoffed at the idea of any of these silly slasher movies being considered good. "Whatever that means."

"Oh, I think what I said was pretty straightforward," he quipped, topping it off with a smile of his own.

Michonne didn't miss the flirtatious tone in his twang, and her stomach started doing backflips, causing her to grin right back at him. "Well, I think I preferred I Know What You Did Last Summer over both," she contended, solely to be contrary.

He gave her a long, blank stare before finally asking, "Are you fuckin' with me?"

"Kinda," she admitted, still grinning at him. "Although I very much enjoyed staring at Jennifer Love Hewitt's breasts for two hours."

Rick nearly choked on his own saliva as he processed what she'd said, his brain immediately going haywire with obscene thoughts. "Are you still fuckin' with me?"

"I'm not," she insisted, mildly offended by his disbelief. "She has nice boobs."

"Michonne..."

"Am I lying?"

"That's somethin' you notice?" he asked, unable to hide his interest in the subject. "Really?"

"Of course I do." She was suppressing the urge to giggle, and she wasn't sure why, because she was being completely honest with him. "I look at breasts all the time, and then I get jealous of all the ones that are better than mine."

"Wow," he exhaled, unable to dispel all the images imprinted on his mind now.

She watched in amusement as his face turned red as a beet, and she knew she probably should've stopped, but she loved making him blush. It was a cheap thrill, because he was such an easy target, but it made her happy nonetheless. "Is that not okay to say?"

"You can say whatever you want," he shrugged, sipping on his beer to hide his unhideable smile. "But let the record show, you have no reason to be jealous of anyone."

Michonne instinctively looked down at her chest, realizing that Rick was commenting on her tits, meaning he'd noticed them at some point or another, and it was her turn to feel bashful. The compliment set her cheeks on fire, especially as she contemplated what else he might've noticed. "All right, we're even," she declared, crossing her arms over her chest.

"I'm just sayin'," he smirked, feeling her discomfort.

"Yeah, I know what you're 'just saying.'" She glanced over at him, her eyes scanning his face, and more specifically, his lips, as he seemed to be licking them purposely slowly, which made her entire body start to quiver. She took that opportunity to switch on the TV, hoping for a distraction from her rogue thoughts. "So when are you heading back home?" she decided to ask, quickly landing on an episode of Singled Out. "I know your mom probably wanted you back there yesterday..."

He chuckled, appreciating that Michonne knew that to be true. "She did, but I told her it'd be Monday."

"You're gonna stay there the whole month?" she questioned, surprised. She simply couldn't imagine being in her parents' house for all of Christmas break.

"Probably," he shrugged. "She likes it when I'm home."

"Mama's boy," she retorted, sending a teasing grin his way.

Rick fixated on his friend's lips for far too long, he knew, but he found her smile to be positively enchanting sometimes. He couldn't look away if he wanted to. "Well it's not like I have anything better to do," he eventually remarked, still gazing at her.

She wasn't sure, but she felt like that was a dig at Lori, so she made it a point not to play into it, not wanting to take anyone's side. "You and I both know you're gonna be in the street with Shane the whole time, so don't try that pitiful act on me."

"In the street?" he repeated, smiling as he grabbed his beer again. "I don't even know what that means."

"It means I don't have to worry about you."

"Well that makes it sound like you're not planning to see me the whole time, and I dunno how I feel about that."

There he was again, flirting with her like he was getting paid for it, and she couldn't stop the butterflies from fluttering around, inappropriate as they were. "I already told you you're taking me to the movies next week," she reminded him, recovering rather quickly. "And don't think you're getting out of it either."

"I wasn't gonna try to get out of it," he laughed at her insistence on seeing this ridiculous movie. "I'll just spend the whole time eating like you did tonight."

"I didn't spend the whole time eating, Rick."

"Yeah, there were maybe thirty minutes in the middle where you didn't have somethin' in your mouth. But that was it."

Immediately struck by the innuendo behind his words, Michonne gave him her best deadpan expression until he picked up on it, too, and the two of them promptly burst into laughter. Loud, unashamed, animated laughter.

"That's not what I meant," Rick promised as he sobered, his face flushing once more. "I mean, I meant it, but not the way it sounded…"

"I got it," she continued to giggle, glancing at him from the corner of her eye. He was so adorable when he laughed his big laugh, his cheeks going up to his eyes. She imagined that was what he looked like as a kid in his happiest moments. It was hard to conciliate those pure feelings with the lascivious ones that arose when she stared at his lips the way she had been all night. All year. More like two years, actually. Made worse by the fact that when he wore hats, they were all she could see. And because of them, she was sorely tempted to go back on her promise to herself not to drink in the year before she turned 21. She only had two months to go, but she could've really used some alcohol at the moment. She noticed Rick let out a tense sigh before sipping his beer, and she couldn't help but wonder whether his mind was moving as fast as hers.

"So… when are you goin' home?" he quietly inquired, the silence becoming too much for him. "I know you're doin' your girls' trip for New Year's…"

"My mom just said I better have my ass in the house by Christmas Eve, so... I dunno yet. Lori flies home on Wednesday, so I'll probably just stay when I take her to the airport."

Rick nodded, his eyes dancing around the dim room until they eventually landed on Michonne's thighs. His mind started to wander until he was thinking about things he had no right to be thinking about. But everything about her just seemed so perfect, from her skin to her svelte figure, to her gorgeous round face with the smile that made his heart beat faster. More than once, especially when they were close like this, he'd found himself picturing her naked, and he usually shook the thoughts away. But this time, he didn't, no longer having Lori to feel guilty about. He simply pulled off his cap, feeling lightheaded from the images he'd conjured up, and set down his beer. "So do you know what we're supposed to be doin' tomorrow night?"

"Umm, I think Andrea just mentioned the bar," Michonne answered in the form of a question. She picked herself up from the couch and scurried across the room to grab her purse from a neighboring chair. "I assume we'll do dinner and all that first."

He nodded again as he inwardly pondered who she'd gotten for Secret Santa. He had Daryl, probably the hardest person in the world to buy a gift for, while Shane had the good luck of getting Michonne. "You have your gift for your Secret Santa?" he decided to ask.

"All wrapped and ready," she assured him. "And before you ask, no, it's not you."

"I wasn't gonna ask that," he lied with a wide grin, watching her move back to the couch. "But since it's not me, you can tell me who it is."

"That's not how that works."

"I'll tell you who I have," he offered.

"Rick, this is not a 'show me yours, I'll show you mine' situation. It's called Secret Santa for a reason."

"It only needs to be a secret to the person you're the Santa to."

Michonne couldn't exactly argue with his logic, but in truth, she was his Santa, and Andrea would've killed her if she figured out that he knew beforehand. "Did you steal my candy?" she frowned at him, still rifling through her purse for the white box she'd been looking for, also successfully changing the subject.

"Steal?" he repeated, pretending to be offended by the notion. "I was under the impression that we were sharing."

"What gave you that impression?"

"You asking me if I wanted some."

"'Some' did not mean 'all,' Grimes." She slumped back into her seat with a pout, wishing she'd known he was a greedy bastard so she could've bought another box before leaving the theater.

"You are so fuckin' serious about your food," he chuckled, following her same path to the chair to grab his jacket. He immediately found the mostly full box of Junior Mints, happy to return them to their rightful owner before she could sink into a depression about it. "Here."

She looked up at his proffered hand in surprise, and her eyes followed him as he reclaimed his seat, beaming as she rattled the box in her hand. "Thank you."

"Yeah, yeah." He rolled his eyes at her instant attitude change, but underneath his mock annoyance, he was really glad that he could make her smile like that. "Next time, I'll just know not to accept your offer."

"You can have some," she maintained, "just… don't finish the box and we're fine."

"Oh, we are fine," he agreed, already having decided on a solution to the problem. "I won't accept your offer. I'll get myself some Skittles or somethin'." He grinned, watching her pop one of the coveted candies into her mouth, and she was still smiling like a kid in a candy store. "You... have your mints," he mused in a near-whisper. He was also grinning from ear-to-ear at their silly conversation, oblivious to the fact that their hands were mere millimeters from one another until they touched. His pinky collided with hers and it felt like an electric jolt, the two of them locking eyes the second it hit them. Their smiles fell, replaced with confusion over the fact that their hands were inching closer, slowly, hesitantly, but overlapping nonetheless, until his palm was resting over hers, their fingers nervously intertwining.

He watched her take a deep breath, clearly just as unsure about what was happening as he was, and it made him relax. He offered a brief smile, knowing that the hand-holding said more than he ever could in that moment. Of course, it wasn't all he wanted to say. He'd been harboring a crush for this woman since the day she asked him to help her with Statistics, and he couldn't believe that someone like her would ever need anything from someone like him. But they'd become close in the two years since then - in some ways, even closer than he and Lori ever were. And as he sat there contemplating their short history, the time he'd spent denying what he felt, he decided in that moment that he was done with it.

Letting his mind go blank, his eyes focused only on Michonne's luscious lips, he slowly leaned in, and thankfully, she did too, meeting him halfway to a kiss. It started off gentle and chaste, only their lips touching at first as they got a feel for one another; as they slowly became cognizant of what was actually transpiring between them. But one taste of her lips and he was already hooked, going in for another deeper one, smiling inwardly and outwardly as he did.

Michonne felt like she was in a dream as Rick's tongue slipped into her mouth, his long, strong fingers gripping her braids as their kisses intensified. She could taste the beer on his tongue as it danced around with hers, mixing in with the chocolate and mint. And she tried to stop herself, but she found herself smiling too, because god, he was a good kisser and he made her feel not just good, but wanted, and that was something she'd been lacking lately. He was tender, but he was fervent, and each time she inhaled, she got whiffs of cinnamon and Lever 2000, and his lips were unsurprisingly soft, same as his hair as she combed through the curls at his nape. Every smooch was longer than the last, their tongues and breaths intertwining in a heady expression of all their unspoken feelings. After a while, she felt drunk on him, so intoxicated, she barely noticed when or how she ended up her on her back. She seemed to have simply drifted there, with Rick landing between her thighs without even a hint of breaking their kiss. And even her mints going crashing to the floor couldn't break her concentration on his lips.

Kissing Michonne was everything Rick thought it would be - her lips were like two tiny, heavenly pillows, and finally getting to feel them, taste them, unabashedly suck them as they made out, he knew he could die a happy man. He didn't take long to explore the rest of her, though, his mouth moving down her jawline until he reached her neck, lapping at her skin, inhaling her lavender scent like it was his air; all while his hands roamed up her shirt with reckless abandon. His inhibitions and apprehensions had flown out the window, and all he could think about was the woman underneath him. Her fingers in his hair as she quietly, almost inaudibly moaned in response to his kisses. His hands had fumbled their way into her bra, and he could feel his dick going hard as the pads of his fingers touched her erect nipples.

"Oh, god," Michonne gently purred when she felt his hard-on grazing her thigh, his warm hands squeezing her breasts as he continued to suck at her throat. Everything was happening so quickly, but her brain seemed to be processing it in slow motion, because it only hit her then that she was about to have sex with Rick. And more to the point, how badly she wanted to have sex with him. She watched him swiftly remove his sweater, revealing his lean naked torso, and she smiled at the sight, knowing she'd be enjoying this heavenly body on top of her soon enough.

Rick hurriedly undid the buttons of her Henley shirt, allowing him access to her cleavage from the top, and pulled down the cups of her bra to uncover her supple tits, the two perky brown mounds making his mouth water. He was damn right when he said she had no reason to be jealous of anyone else. She locked her legs around his waist, making his cock throb every time he imagined being inside her, but he was determined to maintain his composure. He licked his full lips before wrapping his mouth around her magnificently soft breast, rolling his tongue around her nipple until it went hard again, moaning to himself as he tasted her skin. His right hand fondled the other, squeezing and teasing it to both their delights. Her body was as perfect as he thought, lithe in all the right places, hard in all the others. He wanted to spend the entire night discovering it.

And Michonne was still reeling, unused to the feeling of being this close to Rick, his hot tongue devouring her tits, making the hair on the back of her neck stand on edge. She had goosebumps, the entire lower half of her body pulsating, desperate to feel him inside her. He felt so good, which was probably why it all felt so bad. So wrong. She had someone. Someone she loved, though she wondered sometimes if they were outgrowing one another. And even if Rick wasn't with Lori at the moment, she knew he had her, too. And having sex with him would only further complicate a bunch of already complicated relationships. "Wait," she quietly sighed, hating herself for having a conscience at the exact moment she was about to get laid for the first time in over a month. As Rick pulled back, those hungry blue eyes and swollen pink lips staring back at her, she nearly lost her resolve. "Mike," she managed to croak out, along with a frown, as she hesitantly unlocked her legs from around his waist.

"Shit," he whispered to himself, suddenly reminded that she wasn't exactly free in the same way he was. Her boyfriend had been in New York for the better part of the semester, which was why he and Michonne had been spending so much time together in the first place, but Mike was still very much her man. "I'm sorry," he added, sitting up on his knees while she pulled her shirt back into place. "I completely forgot."

She smiled timidly as she sat up, too, feeling just how wet she'd gotten in only a matter of minutes. Goddamn her conscience. "Don't apologize," she shook her head. Truthfully, she had forgotten too, and she was the one who needed to feel bad for it. "Heat of the moment."

"No kidding," Rick quipped with raised eyebrows. Not only did he forget about Mike, but the fact that Lori could've walked through the front door at any second. He carefully repositioned to a regular sitting position, his eyes scanning the room as if he'd never seen it before. Because he couldn't bring himself to look at Michonne; not right then. It was hard enough to pretend that he didn't like her as much as he did, but knowing - feeling - that it was mutual, he wasn't sure what he was supposed to do with that. How he was supposed to just move on from that. On the bright side, at least he'd have all of the Christmas break to figure his shit out.

"Are you okay?" Michonne asked cautiously, kneeling beside him. His unusual silence was making her feel even more uncomfortable than she already was.

"I think so," he nodded, turning his head in her direction, though his eyes stayed focused on the window ahead of him. "Are you?"

"Yeah," she whispered, hoping she sounded sure of herself. "It was just… a few minutes. It doesn't have to define anything."

Rick nodded, but he wasn't entirely sure how to believe that yet. "You mind if I ask you somethin'?"

"Of course not."

"Is Mike really the reason?" he posed, his gaze finally finding her face. For a moment at least. "Or is it Lori?"

She flashed a sullen smile at his question, wishing he didn't know her as well as he did. She didn't even know when that happened, him being able to read her better than just about anyone. But his question was a valid one. Because as much as she would've liked to chalk up Lori to just her roommate so that her guilt wouldn't eat her up, the truth was, they were friends. They'd become close in the time they lived together, and there was just no way Michonne could ever be with Rick, no matter how much Lori claimed not to want him, without hurting her. She nodded as she locked eyes with him, knowing that what she was about to say was shitty for them both - it meant that this was as far as it could ever go. "It's Lori."

Present day.

"We've gotta stop meeting like this, Grimes."

Rick glanced up at the sound of Michonne's feathery voice, and he instantly smiled at the sight of her. He hadn't seen much of her all day. "I dunno, I kinda like meeting like this," he chuckled, accepting the cold beer she offered him. He scooted over a few inches to give her space on his towel, and he offered his hand to assist her down.

"What are you doing out here?" she asked, settling in beside him. The seat was warm, thanks to him, and the sand was cool against her toes, while the view - both Rick and the endless, dark sea - were a feast for her eyes.

"Just enjoying the beach," he sighed contentedly. "Needed some quiet."

"After all day with the kids, I bet you do," she smirked before taking a long sip of her own beer. "You're good with them, though."

He sent a reserved smile her way, appreciating the compliment. "You'd think that after sixteen years, I'd be confident in that, but I'm not," he confessed. "So thank you for sayin' it."

She cocked her head in curiosity, surprised to hear that from him. He was such a good dad, she didn't know how it wasn't obvious to him. "You really don't think you are?"

"I mean, I don't think I'm bad or anything, but. I'm not as good as you are," he declared with a one-shoulder shrug. "Sometimes I get jealous of you and Carl. Wondering what you're always talkin' about."

"Oh god." Michonne's smile at his confession turned into a chuckle as she thought about how uncomfortable she got while talking to Carl that particular morning; how she hightailed it out of there and steered clear of him all afternoon just to avoid answering a question she was unsure how to respond to. It wasn't like her at all. But then, she hadn't been feeling like herself all day, so that fell right into place. "We usually talk about you," she revealed, brushing imaginary sand from her dress. "Today's conversation was… enlightening." She glanced over at him, knowing he'd be intrigued by her choice of word.

Rick sat up a little straighter, most definitely wondering what that was meant to imply. "Enlightening? In what way."

"In the way that he told me about your friend, Jessie." She watched him again, waiting for him to react; looking for something she could read into. But she got nothing unusual, only that stupid squint he always did when he was listening too hard.

"Why'd you say 'friend' like that," he laughed, a bit taken aback when he noticed her stare.

"Because it sounds to me like she's more than a friend, and I can't believe we sat up for hours last night, and you didn't even mention her name," she said, poking his thigh in mock resentment with every other word she spoke. "Why are you keeping secrets?"

"I'm not keepin' anything," he continued to laugh as he moved away from her, shielding himself from her fingers. "There's nothin' to say about Jessie that I haven't already told you."

She gazed at him for a long time, still trying and failing to read his expression. She didn't know Rick to be a liar, even over unimportant subjects like this, but she was finding it difficult to believe him. "So this Tara person that she's coming with. Is it her girlfriend, or a girl... friend?" That was the first thing she needed to clarify.

"A girl friend. As in, a friend of hers that's a girl." He answered confidently before adding, "I think."

"How do you not know?"

"Because I didn't ask," he quipped, chuckling at her serious tone. "She's just getting out of a marriage, so I don't think she likes girls. But hell, maybe she wanted to try somethin' new."

Michonne's grimace only intensified as she realized she truly had no idea what the hell was going on, which was putting her in a state of unease. "Rick…"

"I don't know what Carl told you," he laughed. "I think I'm scared to even find out. But... Jessie is a friend and only a friend."

"So you're not thinking about dating this woman?"

"No." He said it plainly and emphatically before taking a sip of his beer. He enjoyed how invested Michonne seemed to be in his love life, but he wasn't sure why this was so unbelievable to her. "You don't think I would've mentioned that last night?"

"Or before last night," she nodded. "Yes, I do. That was my whole point."

"And it didn't occur to you that Carl just didn't know what the hell he was talking about?"

"Well he's a pretty sharp kid," she said in her own defense. "If he thinks you're interested in her, it must be for a reason." She raised a playful eyebrow at him, also taking a swig of her beer. "Is she attractive?"

"I mean…" Rick shrugged again, trying to think of a way to describe her. "Yeah, she's fine."

"She's fine?" Michonne repeated him, tickled by the description - or lack thereof. "As in, 'Damn, she fine'? Or like, 'She's… fine, I guess'?"

He let out a quiet cackle at the two options, though mostly at her intonation as she offered them. "I mean, she's an attractive woman," he said, shaking his head. "What's it to you anyway?"

"I just find it rather strange that you invited this random woman down here if you truly have no interest in her," she said, resting her body weight on her left arm so that she could get a proper view of her friend. "I know it's been a while for you, but that's not how most people do things."

Rick smiled in amusement, gazing out to the dark horizon as he contemplated exactly how to put his feelings into words. "You know," he started, his voice just barely audible over the crashing waves, "when you left Atlanta, it was like my right hand kinda got up and left me."

In reply, Michonne immediately stopped drinking and smirking, and she peered at him, thinking she'd misheard. "What?"

"Maybe more like my left hand," he reconsidered with a quiet chuckle. "I didn't have anyone to call when I needed a favor. No one to take Judith at a moment's notice. Today reminded me of how we had become that for each other." A wistful smile tugged at his lips as he thought about all the times he'd picked up Andre from school, and after Lori died, all the times Michonne would take Judith. To gymnastics or soccer practice when he couldn't. Or sometimes, just to spend the night at her place. He missed that. He missed Carl and Judith having her close. "So Jessie stepped in," he went on to explain, glancing over at her then. "She was at home a lot, so she'd cook for us every so often. When Carl was doing his sports and clubs, she'd take Judith after school. Never asked for anything in return. I could've hired a nanny, but she wanted to do it, she said."

Michonne smiled ruefully herself and nodded, "That's good to hear."

"So when you suggested that we invite friends down for New Year's, she was the first person that came to mind," he revealed. "I don't know how to actually repay her... How to say, 'Thank you for taking care of my family when I couldn't.' There's no card for that." His eyes flitted to the spot between them, noticing Michonne's hand mere centimeters from his thigh. "But I owe her."

She exhaled deeply, feeling both encouraged and dejected by his explanation. She was relieved that he found the assistance he needed, but she wished he hadn't needed it. "I'm so sorry I left," she told him sincerely.

Rick replied with a warm smile, but he shook his head at the thought. "Don't you dare be sorry," he said, gazing up at the sky and then back to the glorious resort sitting just behind them. "Look at what you've built here. Don't ever be sorry for doing exactly what you wanted to do."

She could hear the genuine marvel in his voice as he referred to her place, and she appreciated it. She appreciated him. He was always so encouraging about it, even when it was clear that he didn't want her to go. He still told her she should. "Thank you for saying that," she nodded, blinking back tears. "I need to hear that every once in a while."

He was quick to pick up on her tears - or more accurately, her gorgeous eyes glistening in the darkness, and it reminded him of how she'd been sullen earlier, too. "Everything all right?" he tried to ask casually, but knew the concern in his voice was evident.

"Yeah," she sighed again. "Just been a strange day. Weird moods."

"So there was nothin' wrong with you earlier?" he pressed. "When you and the kids came in from the beach this morning?"

"It was silly," she smiled shyly, loving but hating that he'd even noticed. She gulped down some more of her drink to try and conceal her awkwardness about it, but it wasn't working. Rick only stared at her, obviously waiting for a valid answer. "The kids," she chuckled. "They were just… talking. Being kids," she shook her head, knowing it was ridiculous that she'd ever gotten upset about it. "But out of nowhere, Judith asked Andre what it was like to have a mother, and… I dunno, it just kinda broke my heart," she admitted quietly. She looked over to him to get his reaction, but his gaze stayed focused on the shoreline, his expression unreadable from her angle. "Then Andre asked her what it was like to have a dad," she sniffled, "and I… felt like I was being strangled. Mainly by my own feelings."

He looked at her then, his face falling as he realized she still wasn't over it. "Michonne…"

"I know they're okay," she allowed, still feeling silly. "They're happy, good kids. But they're missing something. Andre is missing out on a father because I picked the wrong one for him." She knew she was oversimplifying the issue, but that was genuinely what it felt like to her. "I'm so scared that I'm fucking him up, Rick."

"But you said it yourself – he's happy. He's safe. He has a mother that loves him more than anything in the world," he whispered, reaching out to touch her back, his thumb caressing her bare arm. "You're doing everything right. Why are you taking the blame for what Mike didn't do?"

"Because he's my son," she maintained, wiping a stray tear. "And I want him to have everything."

He nodded, understanding that sentiment well. He saw his own mother struggle with the same things for him and his brother. Even Lori, at the end, was so concerned about what their children would turn into without their mother. "I think it's normal for those feelings of doubt to surface every now and then. Being a single parent is so hard," he declared, his voice raspy but soft. "My mom just worked… tirelessly. And of course, I thought nothin' of it back then. I just knew that that was what she was supposed to do as a parent." He continued to run her back as he spoke. "But now I know how difficult it all was. Gettin' dinner on the table every night, gettin' us to school every morning. Happy birthdays and Christmases and school trips and college." He smiled as he thought of his tiny, proud mama, then looked back at Michonne, his hand falling back to his side, just beside hers. "I did okay without two parents," he reminded her. "My mom did give me everything."

"She did," Michonne grinned, her mind also drifting to Cindy Grimes for a brief moment. Rick, along with his brother Jeffrey, and millions of other people, were living proof that single parenthood didn't ruin anything. She just hoped that would be true for her child. "So the kids ended up deciding that they would share their parents," she revealed, the amusement apparent in her voice again. "That didn't kill me or anything."

Rick laughed heartily at that, though the notion was actually quite heartwarming. "They're gonna share us?" he repeated. "I'm guessing that's why Judith kept telling Andre, 'See, he's a good daddy'?"

Michonne immediately and genuinely laughed too, finding their innocence so endearing. "Well Andre didn't sell me very well. He's like, 'Well, she's okay. She makes you do your math homework, but other than that…'"

"You know you don't need selling to Judith or Carl," he reminded her. "They both could not wait to see you."

"I couldn't wait to see them," she agreed with a happy nod. "Talking to Carl today was the only thing to actually make me feel better."

"He's funny, isn't he?" Rick grinned proudly.

"So funny," she chuckled. "And so open. There's this honesty about him that's really refreshing."

He delighted in that description of his son, and specifically, that Michonne was so easily able to see that in him. "Not open enough to ask me about who he thinks I'm dating, apparently."

"I think he just didn't wanna overstep his boundaries," she suggested, though she wasn't sure she believed it herself. He certainly didn't seem to have any with her. "Maybe you should let him know that you're not interested in her that way."

"Yeah, I guess I should," he sighed, still chuckling at the fact that his son managed to arrive at this conclusion without ever talking to him. "I just don't know where he got that idea in the first place. The only thing we've ever done together is go running around our neighborhood."

"Well…" Michonne shrugged, trying to work out how Carl, as bright as he was, would misread the situation. Then again, he wouldn't know about the intricacies of dating at his age. "I dunno, maybe Jessie's said something. Maybe she has a thing for you, and that's what he's picking up on."

"I don't think she does," he frowned. "I don't know why she would."

"Oh, yeah right," she rolled her eyes at his attempt to be modest. "You know exactly why she would."

"I don't mean it like that." He began to blush as he spoke, enjoying that Michonne could obviously see why someone would take an interest in him. "I just mean because we haven't spent that much time together. She doesn't know me."

"Well yeah, she probably wants to get to know you," she said, feeling like she was stating the obvious. She swallowed down the rest of her Corona, shaking her head at his obliviousness. "You're so bad at noticing these things."

Rick turned to Michonne once more, his eyes scanning her face for some sign that she was joking; maybe somehow actually referring to herself. But it seemed that she really believed what she'd just said. "You're one to talk," he eventually declared, impressed that she could let that fall from her lips with a straight face.

Michonne detected a hint of flirtation in his tone, and her eyes narrowed on him, watching his lips wrap around the opening of his bottle as he took a drink. "What's that supposed to mean?" she questioned, unable to take her eyes off of his mouth.

He only smirked as he swallowed down the ale, unsure whether she was truly confused, or if she was simply pretending to be, because she was scared of what it meant. He'd been here before, and things didn't go so well the first time around, so he wasn't going to force the issue. Either way, he figured she'd get it sooner or later. "Nothin'."