A/N: I'm not going to lie, this was daunting to write. So many Richonne-authors bravely and expertly took on the task of writing this scene out and adding my two-cents to the archives is nerve-wracking to say the least, but here it goes.
S6E10 AKA The Night Everything Changed.
It's a long one, so strap in. Also, I feel like it should go without saying but, please note the rating change.
As always, reviews are not only welcomed by desperately appreciated. Xoxo
Michonne laid on top of her still-made bed, wide awake and lost in a rabbit hole of her own making. The events of the day replayed over in her mind, each time laced with a new emotional facet for her to consider. It didn't help that Carl and Judith were both asleep and with no one else was home to otherwise occupy her, all she could do was overthink.
Exhausted and overwhelmed, she was considering getting up to do a patrol just to keep from being idle when she heard the front door open.
She sat up, hoping that meant Rick and Daryl were finally back from their run, and reached for the baby monitor on her nightstand before quietly leaving her room to greet her housemates.
She entered the dark hallway in just enough time to catch a glimpse of Rick flopping unceremoniously onto the living room sofa. Arching an eyebrow, she soundlessly made her way towards him.
"Move," she said, bringing her knee up to lightly push his dangling arm out of her way.
Rick started at the unexpected nudge and looked up at her. "Hey," he breathed in a tired greeting, automatically shifting his position to make room for her to sit next to him.
Michonne smoothed her locs back from her shoulder as she took a seat, leaning over to show him the baby monitor in her hands. "She's practicing in her sleep," she said, smiling at the moving image of Judith.
Rick tilted his head, mirroring her expression as he watched his daughter wiggle about on her tummy. "Yeah," he chuckled, watching her fondly before shifting to remove his boots. "It's good to be home."
"Yeah, you're telling me," Michonne exhaled in return, moving to place the monitor on the table stand next to her. "Where's Daryl?" she asked, settling back into the cushions.
"Watching over a guy, till some other guy can take over," he grunted, shifting his boots out of the way.
She was mildly surprised since they haven't seen any new people for the last couple of weeks. "You found a guy?"
Rick propped his feet up on the coffee table, giving a halfhearted wave as he settled back against the sofa cushions. "Crazy day," he said, exhaling through his nose.
Sensing there was something on this mind, she lightly pressed him, "You wanna talk about it?"
"No, not right now," he said, even though he appreciated that she cared enough to ask. "I just wanna turn my brain off for a minute."
Michonne could relate, so she didn't ask anything further. Instead she reclined deeper into the cushions, mimicking his posture.
"You wanna tell me about your day?" he offered a heartbeat later, glancing sideways at her.
"No," she murmured tiredly, "same thing."
Rick turned his head towards her, raising his brow. "What, you found a guy?"
"Not a guy," she sighed, also not wanting to go into the details.
Rick wanted to know more but ultimately granted her the same curiosity she extended him and let it be.
They fell into a companionable silence, the weight of the day fading away in the familiar comfort of each other's company. That's when Rick remembered his one accomplishment out of his series of mystifying misfortunes.
"Oh," he started, reaching into his back pocket. "Gotcha something."
Michonne watched curiously as he smirked, brandishing a rolled pack of mints between them.
Giggling, she playfully snatched the mints from his grasp, unable to wipe the smile off her face if she tried. "Is this instead of the toothpaste?" she teased, examining her gift.
"Mmhmm," he returned, feeling proud of himself and Michonne giggled again at his smugness. "Well I do have a crate of toothpaste for you," he amended, "it's just currently at the bottom of a lake."
Michonne leaned back, staring at him in disbelief. "Oh, so you had a day."
"Yeah," he drawled, breathing a laugh at her understatement, "all on account of your dental hygiene." He slid his eyes over to her, smiling at the smile he somehow managed to put on her face. "Have your mints," he told her, bringing his hand down to cover hers, patting it lightly.
What do you want for you?
Deanna's words had lingered in the back of Michonne's mind ever since she said them, but it was only now she had the courage to answer the question.
The thought of Rick thinking of her despite whatever chaos was thrown his way invoked a feeling she had long since forgotten and had never expected to feel again.
What hit home the hardest was realizing this part of their relationship wasn't new. Rick had always gone out of his way to fulfill her needs and, on the occasions when he could, her wants as well. It has been a cadence he developed since their time on the road. Maybe even before that?
Admittedly, things changed between them after arriving in Alexandria. Rick had changed, or rather, she had while he remained very much the same.
She knew it was dangerous for him to stay in survival mode when they had a chance at a real life again. She also knew from her own experience, turning that switch off is much easier said than done, especially after it kept you alive for so long.
So when she told him she was with him, she meant it. She knew where he was and she wouldn't abandon him there. She would bring him back, just like he unknowingly did for her. That's why she never thought to question whether or not he would find his way out of the darkness. Instead, she helped him see the metaphorical light.
Michonne wanted this place, but it wouldn't work unless they did.
She knew what she wanted now and she had little doubt her feelings weren't reciprocated. So she swallowed her fear and slowly lifted her fingers to interlace with his. The first step off the ledge.
Rick glanced down at their hands, curious at first until he realized what was happening.
He grinned inwardly at her. Finally, he thought.
He had felt the change in their dynamic, too, having realized it vividly the night Carl got shot. But he decided to follow the pace she had set.
In the aftermath of the walkers, Deanna, and...everything else, they had a community to rebuild, a teenager recovering from a life-altering bullet wound to care for, and a growing toddler to raise on top of all that.
Still, there were moments in between where they were able to take a minute and catch their collective breaths. Moments when they didn't have to be leaders or constables or nurses. They could just be Rick and Michonne. So he had been content to experience the nuance of domesticity with her until she was ready for something more.
Of course, if he had known that a rolled pack of mints would be the spark to ignite the flame, he would have raided a vending machine weeks ago.
He found it endearing that even now she appeared to be nervous. She didn't need to be, she wasn't alone in this.
He let her know by slowly shifting their hands to remove the barrier of the mints between them, interlacing their fingers together fully.
He waited for her to lift her gaze back to him, and when she finally did he smiled and watched as her hesitancy dissolved away revealing something else. Something more.
With their hands clasped between them, they leaned in, taking the final step together.
Rick brought his free hand up to cup her cheek as Michonne brought a hand up to his hair, tentatively grazing her fingers against his curls. Their lips brushed together then, in a tender first kiss.
Her lips were so soft, warm and inviting. More, he thought almost immediately, leaning further into her space to deepen the kiss.
His hand found her waist, gripping her closer as her fingers got bolder, grasping firmly into his hair. Rick consumed her and was happily surprised when she returned his kiss with equal fervor.
He shifted to hover over her only to pull back when he felt his gun shift in his belt uncomfortably between them. "W-wait, wait a minute," he whispered, reluctantly pulling from her lips to find her curiously smiling back at him. "My gun's between my legs," he explained in a hushed whisper.
She couldn't help herself, she giggled again. Whether she was giddy from the act or the natural progression of their relationship or both, she wasn't sure.
"Damn it," he mumbled through a grin of his own, as he fumbled with his belt. "Fuck," he cursed when it didn't unbuckle fast enough for his liking.
Michonne brought a hand to her face, breathing a soft laugh at his impatience.
With the obstacle finally removed, he quickly returned to her. "Okay, I'm good to go."
"Good," she murmured back, her mirth fading away as she was equally ready to get back to it.
Rick grinned, returning to her lips again as her gentle fingers ran up from his beard to his curls, familiarizing themselves with this new territory. He brought a hand to her face as he sucked the air from her lungs.
He pulled away to shift her underneath him, then reclaimed her mouth with his tongue as he settled between her legs.
They broke apart only briefly to catch their breath and he took the opportunity to take in the sight of her. Her face was flushed and her lips were swollen and she was gorgeous. He smiled down into her brown eyes, glimmering in the dim light of the room and grinned thinking this shift in their relationship felt altogether natural and undeniable. Of course, it was her; his best friend, his partner in crime, and now so much more than that.
Michonne ran her fingers through his beard, beckoning him back to her. He was eager to oblige, feeling the physical manifestation of his want growing hard beneath his jeans.
If Michonne noticed, she didn't mind. If anything she encouraged him, opening her legs for him to sink further into her embrace.
Rick slid his hand from his grip on her waist to feel her soft flesh beneath the fabric of her shirt. The muscles in her abdomen contracted under his touch as his fingers explored.
She gasped into his mouth when he reached the softness of her breast, squeezing her softly there and they both groaned in response. He tore his mouth from her lips to press wet, open-mouthed kisses to her neck.
Michonne let her head fall back, giving him more room to lavish her. He was so tender in the way he handled her, but with an aggression that was so Rick it made her breathe another laugh.
Rick nipped at the tender flesh between her neck and shoulder, turning her laughter into a breathless gasp. "Nothing's funny about what I wanna do you," he growled against her skin.
She trembled at the low tenor of his voice, fully believing him. Running her fingers through his hair, she tugged a little until he pulled up enough to look at her with hungry eyes. "Show me," she dared him, with a coyness he found sexy as hell.
He forced himself to look away from her, glancing around at their surroundings. "Not here," he whispered, capturing her lips in a searing kiss as he wrapped his arms around her back to pull her up with him.
Michonne took advantage of their shift in positions to straddle his lap. Rick chuckled against her lips as she forced him back into the cushions, bringing his hands up to palm her ass, keeping her close.
She moaned into him as he squeezed her, feeling a familiar heat grow in her very core. Instinctively, she gyrated her hips against him, grinding to a rhythm that matched the sensual battle between their tongues.
Rick squeezed her harder in response, knowing he needed to get them to a bed and quickly.
He adjusted his grip and pushed himself up to stand with her in his arms, bearing her weight easily. Michonne tore her mouth from his with a surprised gasp as she found herself hovering above the ground.
Rick grinned at her, hitching her up until her legs wrapped around his waist. "I like seeing you like this," he quietly admitted, pressing a quick kiss to her lips, moving his hands to grip the softness of her thighs.
Michonne felt her cheeks warm at his remark. She brought a hand up to smooth back his wayward curls. "You can flatter me upstairs," she told him, with a small smile.
Rick didn't need any further encouragement. He walked them towards the steps, unable to take his eyes off of hers as her fingers ran through his hair, something she also seemed unable to stop doing, not that he minded.
The floorboards creaked under his footsteps as he ascended the staircase and Michonne giggled. "You think you can be quieter?" he snickered, bringing his lips back to her neck because he can't seem to keep them off of her either.
His kisses turn her giggles into muffled moans and she dips her head, burying her face in his neck.
When he reached the top step, Michonne lifted her face, glancing over his shoulder to look back down the stairs. "We left the baby monitor," she said ruefully.
Rick followed her gaze, sighing as he settled her back onto the ground, realizing he also left his gun on the coffee table. "I'll get it," he said, turning back to her, hands still lingering on her hips.
Michonne wrapped her arms around his neck, bringing him impossibly closer. "Hurry," she said, pressing a soft kiss to his lips, a promise of what's to come.
Rick groaned inwardly, she didn't make this detour any easier for him. He swatted her ass lightly, letting his frustration be known.
She pulled back with a knowing smile. "Go," she urged him, with a light shove.
Rick took the steps two at a time, eager to return to her.
He swiped the baby monitor and his gun. Then he caught a glimpse of the pack of mint Savers, shaking his head at the accuracy of its name, he grabbed and pocketed them before heading back towards the stairs.
He paused at the bottom of the landing to look over at Michonne's empty bedroom as a thought occurred to him. He ventured inside the room and found what he was looking for. Grabbing her katana by its strap, he shouldered it and left the room.
He made it back to the staircase landing just as the lock at the front door unlatched and Daryl entered the foyer.
The two of them stood facing each other, frozen, as an awkward silence stretched between them.
"Hey," Rick finally said, hoping it sounded casual.
Daryl considered him with furrowed eyebrows hidden beneath the fringes of his unkempt hair. "Hey," he slowly returned, taking in his brother's disheveled appearance, wondering why he looked like a kid with his hand caught in the cookie jar.
But then he noticed his obvious sex hair, Michonne's katana, and a baby monitor of all things and realization dawned on him. "New sleeping arrangements?" he asked, noting Michonne's bedroom appeared to be empty from his vantage point as well.
Rick ran his free hand through his tousled hair, blushing. "Yeah," he admitted, glancing up the dark staircase, "something like that."
Daryl's expression didn't change. "Just for the night?"
Rick chuckled under his breath at the subtle inquiry, re-shouldering the sword by its strap. "I hope not."
Daryl nodded, his expression finally relaxing. "Bout time, man," he said, with a small smile before moving further into the house.
Rick nodded, smiling at the "approval" before heading back up the steps to finish what he started. He paused mid-step, remembering why Daryl wasn't home earlier. "Hey, who's watching that guy?" he called back into the kitchen where Daryl had disappeared.
"Abraham," Daryl told him, reappearing in the kitchen entryway with one of Carol's cookies in hand, "that som'bitch still out though. I just got hungry."
Rick nodded to him before returning to his mission. "G'nite, Daryl."
He could hear the amusement in his brother's response. "For y'all, it is."
When Rick finally made it to his room he found Michonne sitting on the edge of the bed, propped up on her hands with a mischievous grin in place. "You got caught," she said.
Rick laughed softly. "I keep getting into trouble because of you," he said, coming over to place the baby monitor and mints on the nightstand. "Do you have a preference?" he asked, referring to a bedside.
Michonne stood, reaching for his shirt to pull him back to her. "I prefer not to have any more interruptions," she told him, taking his bottom lip between her teeth and nibbling him there.
As her arms snaked around his shoulders she paused, feeling familiar leather in an unfamiliar place. "You brought my sword," she remarked softly, sounding surprised.
"I figured it would be a reminder to bring the rest of your stuff up tomorrow," he said, avoiding her gaze as he slid the weapon down his shoulder, "if you wanted."
Michonne felt as if butterflies were doing back flips in her stomach, more so at the words he didn't say than the ones he did. He was asking for more than just one night, she had hoped as much, but knowing for certain he did, too, warmed her heart.
For him, this was more than what they were about to do and this was his way of asking if she wanted the same.
She did.
"You really have a way with words, Grimes," she whispered with a small smile, accepting her blade and his invitation as she propped the former against the nearest nightstand. "I like this side."
Rick smiled to himself as he rounded the bed to place his gun on the opposite nightstand. With that done, he held his hand out to her across the mattress. "Come here," he whispered.
Michonne crawled towards him, taking his hand and Rick pulled her up against him so they were chest to chest.
It was as if they were never apart. His hands returned her hips, trailing their way up to the hemline of her tank top. He pulled back just enough to pull the fabric up and over her head, tossing it carelessly onto the floor.
Michonne began to unbutton his shirt as she leaned up to reclaim his lips in a sensual kiss, missing his taste.
When she finally managed to get buttons undone, she ran her fingers along his bare chest. She thought about how much she loved this shirt on him but for now it suited her purposes much better on the floor. It fell away soundlessly somewhere she didn't care enough to see.
With his shirt discarded, he wrapped his bare arms around her, pulling her flush against him, unclasping her black cotton bra with deft fingers while their tongues dueled for dominance.
He used his hands to cup her bottom, lifting her so her legs around his waist again before he bowed them over the bed. He gently laid her back as he slid her bra straps down, tossing the material aside as he pulled away from her lips to claim her newly exposed breasts.
He traversed back and forth across her skin, peppering wet, open-mouthed kisses in his wake.
Michonne breathlessly gasped as Rick sucked her pebbled nipple into his mouth, using his fingers to softly knead the other.
Trails of fire blazed across her skin from his attention. She raked her fingers through his hair as he trailed lower, stopping briefly to swirl his tongue around her navel, invoking a breathy giggle from her. She loved how he managed to be playful and sexy at the same time. The duality of this man never ceased to amaze her.
Rick's fingers fumbled with the button on her jeans, grunting in frustration when he managed to get the button undone but struggled to remove the pants from over her hips. He wondered, and not for the first time, if they were painted onto her skin.
"Need help?" Michonne asked, humor lighting her tone.
Rick tossed her a pout. "I can't just rip em?"
Michonne used her knee to jab him slightly. "Absolutely not."
Rick chuckled and pulled back enough to give her room to wiggle her pants down. Once they were over the biggest hump, he took over. Standing at his full height he reached for her ankle and brought her foot to his chest, pulling off her pants' leg and sock at once before moving to do the same with the other leg.
"Your turn," she said, indicating with her foot that his pants also needed to go.
Rick captured her foot with his hand and pressed a tender kiss to the inside of her ankle before setting it back down. He bore into her with a lust-filled gaze that made her heart skip a beat as he unbuttoned his jeans. He pushed them down along with his boxers, revealing his member; hard and thick at the ready.
Michonne licked her lips at the sight of him, pushing up on her elbows as he leaned over her, kissing her ardently as he pressed her back against the mattress.
They were in a world of their own making, everything else faded away. Their touches were simultaneously instinctual and inquisitive as their hands roamed everywhere; groping and rubbing and exploring.
Rick trailed his lips away once more, grinning at the whimpering sound she made. He palmed a hand to her heated core, leaning up to look down on her with mesmerized fascination as her lovely features conveyed her desires.
He fingered the elastic hem of her panties, pulling the lace fabric down slowly down her long legs for them to land softly on the floor. He looked upon her with reverence as he knelt on the floor, hooking his arms under her legs to pull her closer to the edge of the bed.
Emboldened by the sight of her laid out in all of her glory, he dipped his fingers to spread her lower lips. Michonne's breath hitched at his touch and he groaned inwardly at the soft, warm, wetness waiting for him there.
He pulled his fingers back to his lips to taste the salty sweetness of her, all the while maintaining his unwavering gaze.
Michonne shuddered under his stare, anticipation building in the most frustratingly wonderful way from his actions. She found herself torn between wanting him to go faster and relishing in the time he was taking to actually learn her body.
She needn't wait much longer though as Rick lowered himself just then, his face disappearing between her legs to kiss her lower lips with the same gentleness he used for their first kiss.
His intention was to take it slow but one taste of her and notion evaded him. He gripped her hips, burying his face inside her warmth, relishing this new experience with the same zeal he had taken with all the others of the night.
Michonne arched her back from the bed when she felt his tongue, languorously lapping up her nectar from every angle. Her legs trembled but Rick held them in place, bringing them to rest on his shoulders while he continued his work.
He curled two fingers inside of her, slowly pumping in tandem with his tongue to find her sweet spot.
Michonne grasped at one the pillows above her, bringing it to her face to muffle her screams of pleasure. Tiny eruptions exploded in quick succession when his magical tongue wrapped around her sensitive bud, spurring her onto her first climax.
She tossed the pillowed aside and blindly reached for his hair instead, squeezing her legs tighter around him as she came with a soundless gasp.
Rick waited for her to release him before sitting up to grin as he smugly swiped his chin. "How was that?" he asked, knowing full well he already knew the answer.
Michonne felt like she had melted into a puddle of her former self. Her muscles were weak and her breathing labored as she looked up at him through heavy lids with a sated smile in place. "I don't think I can go back to using my fingers after that," she admitted, breathlessly.
Rick smirked, returning to hover over her. He reached for her hand, placing it over her pulsating center. "Try," he murmured, kissing her slowly as he used his hand to guide hers.
Michonne moaned into the kiss, tasting herself on his lips.
Rick showed her no mercy as he directed her fingers, dipping them slowly in and out of her wetness. Michonne lifted her back away from the mattress, pressing up into him and their combined hands. Rick snaked his free arm around her waist, holding her to him as he lowered his head to lavish her neck and chest with his tongue.
The combination of his mouth and their hands proved to be too much and Michonne dropped her head to his shoulder as her second orgasm of the night erupted within her.
Rick held her close, tenderly stroking her back as she collected herself. "You're not playing fair," she said, exhaling against him.
Chuckling, Rick turned to press a kiss to her temple. "I'm just glad I still know what I'm doing," he said.
She hummed against him, allowing his caress to ignite her hunger for him all over again.
Lifting her head, she cupped his scruffy cheeks in her hands before wetly kissing his lips. She felt his hands move to palm her bottom, deliciously squeezing the ample flesh there.
Feeling rejuvenated by his touch and the need to prove she was just as competent as he was, she pushed him back against the mattress.
"My turn," she said, taking pleasure in his look of surprise, especially since he had been in such an alpha-mode up until this point.
Rick sat back against the headboard, submitting to her as she straddled his legs. He brought his hands to her hips, marveling at the sight of her body sliding into position over his pelvis. She seductively rolled her hips, gyrating slowly against him.
Rick's head fell back at the sensation the friction caused. "And you said I don't play fair," he grumbled, reaching around to squeeze her ass again.
Michonne flashed him a knowing smile and leaned forward, letting her hair fall in a veil around them as she kissed him. Her delicate hand reached between them to stroke his member intending to coax him but she soon realized he was more than ready for her.
She left him with a parting kiss, smoothing her hair back with one hand and using the other to guide herself down onto the promiseland.
They moaned together as their bodies merged, the final piece of the puzzle.
Rick gripped her, not ready for her to move just yet. "Hold on," he whispered, eyes closed.
Michonne teasingly rubbed her fingers along her pubic area, grazing him in the process and his hips involuntarily bucked upwards. "Fuck," he hissed, his tone a mix of pleasure and frustration.
"That's what I'm trying to do," she giggled back.
He huffed a laugh of his own and nodded his head for her to continue. "Okay, I'm good," he said.
"Good," Michonne replied, calling back to their earlier exchange as she began her slow wind.
Good wasn't the word for it. It felt so much better than that.
For Rick, watching Michonne undulate on top of him was like a dream come to life. With lust-filled eyes he took in her beautiful dark skin, the sinewy muscles in her stomach, the soft bouncing of her breasts, and her face completely enraptured by their movements. He had to bite down on his lip just to stave off coming from the sight of her.
She was wonderfully tight around him, as if the space he took up was designed to fit him there. His eyes almost rolled in the back of his head as she contracted her inner walls, vibrating around him.
He sat up, needing to be closer to her, and brought a hand up to cup her neck, bringing her mouth back to his.
Michonne felt drunk from the kiss but when she felt his free hand reach around to prey on the only opening she had left unfilled, she reached a point of delirium. Bouncing with abandon, she desperately clung to his shoulders as she rolled her hips to take him deeper. Her headband slid down over her eyes and she hurriedly yanked it away, tossing it blindly across the room so not to break their contact.
Rick managed to keep up with her, matching her rhythm as he pumped upwards into her. He gently squeezed her neck and used his other hand to press into her from behind.
Michonne squealed into the kiss when she felt herself coming undone for a record third time. Her legs tightened around his hips and her fingers buried themselves in his hair as she clung to him. He rocked his hips upwards, prolonging the sensation and she had to tear her mouth from his to gasp for much needed air. With her eyes closed, her head fell back and she rode yet another explosive wave.
Rick continued pepper kisses along her neck as she slowly came back down. Without pulling away from her, he gently rolled them back onto the bed so that she was underneath him, knocking away the bed sheets that were half way on the floor anyway.
Michonne, still in a state of dazed euphoria, allowed him to position her however he deemed suitable for whatever he planned to do next.
He pulled away to hook an arm under her leg, resting it over his shoulder to deepen his penetration. Grinning deviously as he filled her to the hilt, purposefully resurrecting her from her languished state. She pressed back further into the mattress, gripping his arms with a vice-like hold as he slowly pulled out, leaving only his tip inside before slowly sinking back in again.
"Shit, Rick," she whimpered, bending her other knee against his hip, holding onto him for dear life.
"Stay with me," he told her, gradually picking up the pace as he felt his own impending orgasm on the horizon. But he wanted her with him so leaned in, pressing his lips to hers a passionate open-mouth kiss that left them both reeling.
That familiar ache bloomed deliciously in her core and Michonne cried into his mouth once again. He swallowed her screams, burying himself inside of her, deeper still.
Her back arched as she tore away from his lips, voicelessly exploding with a cataclysmic force that left her trembling.
"Goddamn it, Chonne," he hissed, feeling the rush of her orgasm creaming around his member. Relieved that she was well taken care of, he hurriedly withdrew from her to unload his own onto her stomach.
"Fuck," he breathed, collapsing face down onto the bed beside her, his chest heaving and a dopey grin in plastered on his face.
Michonne turned her head to face him, giggling around the deep breaths she took, "You okay?"
"Darling, I could not be more okay if I tried," he returned in a gravelly tone, bringing a hand up to cup her cheek. "Are you?" he asked, his voice softening.
Michonne nodded, covering his hand with hers. "I can't believe we just did that," she exhaled with a smile that squinted her eyes.
Rick shifted up enough to lean over and softly kiss her again. "I can't believe it took us this long," he admitted after pulling away.
He lethargically pushed himself off the mattress to retrieve a towel from the en suite.
Michonne openly stared after him, smiling harder at the sight of his bow-legged gait unabashedly in the nude. She brought her hands up to her cheeks, happily sore from the workout they've gotten this evening. That's not the only thing that's gotten a work out, she thought with a contented sigh, bringing her hands down from her face.
She finally knew what she wanted. But if she were honest with herself, she knew it all along. It just took her a little while to get past the fear and the guilt to pursue it for what it really was.
After all, she's been here before and it ended in tragedy.
But the Grimes family found places in her heart she thought she had repressed forever. They were her second chance at a life, family, and love. She had to come terms with the fact that taking that chance wasn't a disregard of her former life, but a way of honoring it.
What she and Rick did wasn't random, it was the accumulation of bond they already shared in every sense but physically. And tonight, thanks to a small rolled up pack of mints, they were able to take that final step together.
Rick returned to her then, with a warm washcloth in hand. He gently wiped up the remnants of their act as he took in her thoughtful expression. "What are you thinking about?" he softly asked.
"You," she returned simply.
Rick let the wash cloth fall to the floor as he slid back into the bed next to her. He laid back against the headboard, opening his arms for her. She willingly climbed over him to lay across his chest.
"Good things, I hope," he said, bringing a hand up to smooth back her hair.
"The best kinds of things," she told him, resting her chin on her folded hands.
His smile broadened as he shifted to wrap his arms around her. "I think I might be having the same thoughts as you then."
Michonne hummed and turned to rest her head against his chest. Her eyes landed on the mints resting next to the baby monitor on the nightstand. "Where did you find those mints?"
Rick's chest rumbled with his tired chuckle and Michonne lifted her gaze, anticipating this story.
"Believe it or not you can thank Jesus for that."
Michonne sat up a little, arching a confused eyebrow.
"Remember that crate of toothpaste I told you about," he said, his eyes glinting with humor she was not yet privy to.
"Yeah..." she trailed slowly.
"Me and Daryl found a truck, full of supplies. Some poor bastard must have made a stockpile they never got to use," he explained. "We took the truck and hit the road again but Daryl wanted to make a pit stop at a gas station. Apparently the good doctor had a special request."
"Whatever she wants," Michonne said without hesitation. Denise saved Carl's life, anything she asked for was a given in her book.
Rick huffed a soft laugh, having the same thought himself at the time. "Yeah well, it was at this gas station we met Jesus. Or some sociopath who calls himself that anyway."
Michonne snorted at his disgruntled expression. "Let me guest, he hijacked the truck."
Rick nodded. "He hijacked the truck with a damn vending machine hooked to the back of it."
Michonne raised her eyebrows. "A vending machine?"
"The special request was for a can of orange soda," he deadpanned.
Michonne's gaze softened. "Aw, Tara loves orange soda. She must've wanted to get it as a present for her."
Rick shot her a confused look, deciding to table his questions on how she knew that for now. "I guess I should thank Tara for the 10 mile trek we had to take tracking that son of a bitch."
Michonne bit her lip to keep from laughing out right at that information. "Oh, Rick," she said, hoping it came across sympathetic.
He rolled his eyes towards the ceiling. "We eventually caught up to the vending machine. That's when I snagged the mints, just in case my heart gave out before we caught up to the truck."
"Oh, Rick," she said again only this time with genuine sincerity. She brought a hand up to his beard, stroking it gently.
Rick turned and kissed her palm before continuing, "It was another mile or so before we caught up with the truck, but we did. Left the guy tied up on the side of the road and drove off thinking that was the last we'd see of him."
Michonne could tell by his tone it wasn't.
"He must've been a ninja or something in his past life because next thing I know, he's on the goddamned roof of the truck. I drove into a field, slam on the brakes and here he comes tumbling down like something out of a Merrie Melodies cartoon."
Michonne laughed outright this time at the visual he had presented her with, hiding her face behind her hand. "Oh my God."
Rick lightly shakes her, letting her know that wasn't where it all ended. "Then Daryl jumps out of the truck and chases him, and then I have to park and jump out because, of course, there are walkers around."
"Of course," she empathized with a nod.
"And then everything goes to shit," he grumbles and Michonne laughs again because as far as she is concerned, that ship sailed long ago.
"Just when I finished with the walkers in the field, I saw one coming up on Daryl from behind. I was too far to get to him but the guy shoots it before it can get to Daryl."
Michonne tilts her head, surprised by that turn of events.
"That was also when the truck rolled backwards into a lake, but not before knocking Jesus unconscious on its way down."
Michonne stared at him, dumbfoundedly. "You really did have a day, didn't you?"
He nodded, grinning again. "But I did manage to save your mints."
Michonne beamed at him. "You are so silly," she remarked, leaning forward to kiss her silly, thoughtful man.
"Your turn," he prompted, relaxing back into his pillow. "Tell me about your 'not a guy'."
Michonne exhaled, shifting to slide off him to prop herself up on her arm. "My story isn't as riveting as yours," she warned him.
He turned his head to face her, giving her his full attention. "I still wanna hear about it," he said, honestly.
The corner of her mouth lifted at that. She softly sighed and said, "It was Deanna."
Rick took a deep inhale, he was sad to hear that but also a little relieved. The community mourned the loss of not only their former leader's life but her remains as well, having gotten lost in the confusion of that bleak night.
"I was on guard duty when I spotted Spencer heading out into the woods with a shovel," she said, "I was worried so I followed him. Apparently, he's been going out there every day to look for her.
"We eventually spotted her, wandering around the forest," she continued, purposefully leaving out the part about Carl leading her to them. She had dealt with that matter and didn't see a need to loop him in at this particular moment. "We buried her in a clearing and marked the tree she's under."
"I'm sorry," he said gently, knowing how fond she was of Deanna.
Michonne wiped away an errand tear and smiled softly at him. "Before she died, she asked me something. I've been thinking about the question ever since."
"What was it?" he asked, curious.
"She asked me what I wanted, not just for the community or for our group, but for me," she said, getting lost in the intensity of his gaze, "before she asked that, I hadn't really thought about it. I never really had the chance to."
Michonne shifted to lay her head on the pillow beside his, facing him on her stomach. "But I know now, I think I've known for a while. It's you."
Rick smiled at those words, understanding them empathically. "It's been you for a while, Michonne."
Michonne hummed softly as she slid her eyes closed with a contented expression on her face. "That's good to know, even if it didn't always seem that way."
Rick knew what she was referring to, she had every right. "I was lost for a minute," he admitted, bringing his hand up to caress her back, "but I found my way back thanks to you."
She peaked her eyes open to look at him. "We do this together," she told him softly.
He leaned over, pressing a lingering kiss to her forehead. "Yeah we do," he told her and she closed her eyes, letting a much deserved sleep claim her.
Rick watched her for a minute enjoying the view before he reached over to snatch the bed sheet up from the floor, lazily tossing it across their bodies. Once he settled back into the bed, Michonne inched closer to him, resting her arm over his chest as she snaked her leg over his. He loved that even in her sleep, she wanted to be close to him.
He bent his leg under hers slightly to bring her closer and rested his hand over bottom, keeping her there. Satisfied, he let his eyes close and followed her in slumber.
Hours later, this was how Jesus found them.
After waking up in an unfamiliar, abandoned home he quickly deduced Rick and Daryl must have brought him back to their community. Slipping out from under his "guard" was easy enough but finding where Rick laid to rest proved to be slightly more challenging. He had scouted three different houses before finally landing on the right one, taking note of their inventory in the process.
He spotted Rick's cowboy boots through the living room windows of one of the larger community homes. He also spotted a baby's pack-n-play and some old comic books on a nearby coffee table.
Stealthily, he ventured inside the home, driven by his own intrigue and the time-constraint to make his case.
What he did not expect was to find Rick cohabiting with a woman, who apparently chose a sword at her apocalyptic weapon of choice. Nevertheless, it was too late to turn back now.
"Rick," he whispered urgently, "Rick, wake up."
He also didn't expect for his gentle plea to be met with the blade of a katana and revolver aimed in his direction in a matter of seconds. To say he was impressed would haven been an understatement.
Jesus calmly brought his hand, wisely choosing to keep his eyes on Rick. "We should talk," he told him.
Rick brazenly crossed the room towards him, pressing the barrel of his gun to the other man's temple. "No," he said in a deadly calm voice, unlocking the safety, "we shouldn't."
"Don't tell me this is your guy," Michonne questioned, clandestinely reaching for the bed sheet to cover herself with one hand while keeping her sword trained on him with the other.
Jesus chanced a glance in her direction once she was covered. "The name's Paul Rovia, but my friends call me Jesus," he said, charmingly, as if he didn't just break into their home.
"She doesn't care," Rick sneered at him, forcing his gaze back on him. "What the fuck are you doing in our house?"
"I need to talk to you, it's important," Jesus told him seriously, then he nodded as if just realizing his audaciousness, "but I see I may have caught you off guard. I can wait outside while you get dressed."
Rick looked as if he was contemplating shooting him right there, only hesitating for the sake of his daughter sleeping down the hall. "I should kill where you stand," he growled.
"You could," Jesus agreed, "but trust me, after what I have to say, you'll be glad you didn't."
Michonne could see Rick was leaning on the more dangerous side of his options and stepped closer towards the stranger, bringing the tip of her sword dangerously close to his jugular. "You so much as creak a floorboard and I will cut you down," she warned and Jesus believed she would do it.
"You have my word," he promised, slowly raising two fingers to show his scout's honor.
"Go, now," Rick ordered, lowering his weapon while maintaining the daggers in his gaze.
Jesus nodded, quickly and quietly slipping from the room.
Michonne lowered her sword and the sheet, exhaling a breath she didn't realize she was holding. "What the hell just happened?" she asked, snatching her tank top off the ground and hurriedly yanking it over her head.
"You just met Jesus," he grumbled, tossing her jeans on the bed grabbing his own to slip on.
Michonne snorted, drly. "Very funny."
Rick sighed, going to meet her by the door, he held his hand in place over the door knob and she looked up worriedly at him.
"What is it?"
"I'm sorry," he said, "I pictured our morning going a little differently than this."
Michonne stood up on her tiptoes, pressing a quick kiss to his lips. "Let's deal with the sociopath in our hallway first, then we can pick up where we left off. Okay?"
Rick smiled, despite himself, glad that she was on the same page as him. He might still kill the name who called himself Jesus for ruining his morning plans. But the promise of more mornings on the horizon may just keep him alive for a little while longer.
Just a little while.