Author's Note: It's been a long time since I started a new story, but news of Richonne's epic love story series got the juices flowing. I have started and restarted this story so many times, and finally got something that felt right. This opening chapter sets the stage. I wanted to start with a different kind of tone, because things will get a little angsty for our faves, but not with them, it's Richonne.

The questions you have will be answered. I have loved many couples, but Richonne are so special, and I strive to always treat them that way. Now, if you will, join me on this journey in getting Richonne home.

Rick Grimes followed the squad members deep into the weedy, shrub-covered terrain after the thirty-minute chopper ride. The tempered late-morning air marked the coming transition from summer to fall and an unfortunate anniversary for him. It wasn't unusual for him to be asked to join in on these pickups, he used to lead them for a while, but this time of the year made him melancholy. He was always miserable in this hell, but now it was misery on top of misery.

"We're out here for just a woman and a horse?" he asked, maneuvering through the thick brush.

"We've been watching her about a week now, sir," said Max Hatton, current leader of the three-man search squad. Six-two with a wrestler's body, Hatton was out to make a name for himself and hoped Rick could help. He couldn't. Even if he'd known the man longer than a few months, trust for Rick was at a premium. "She's by herself, and she could be useful. She's strong, alone and surviving. She built a makeshift lean-to shelter with the limbs of trees and weeds, so she's resourceful. That says a lot. She could be a leader. Help to train others. It's about survival."

"And I'm here to help her see the light?"

"My group could make her come along, you know that, but if she's as strong as I think, why make things difficult and lose a good body. Permission to speak freely, sir."

Rick rolled his eyes. "Go," he said.

"Look at you. I've heard the stories. When you were brought in you were nearly dead. You recovered and attempted five, six runaways in half as many years, wanting no part of what we do. You injured nearly a dozen men, killed three others, and you're still here. Not dead or maimed."

"I took licks."

"But you're still here, because you have something. You're a leader, you're strong. Nearly five years after that last attempt at leaving, you've gone from consignee to commanding squads. You're who every soldier here wants to be."

Rick tuned out Hatton as the man prattled on, not needing a reminder of the last eight years of his life in this warped military abyss. He had tried running many times and it got him nowhere. He wanted out, but realized after his last failed attempt that he had to change his method, so he devised a new plan. Getting back to Michonne and Judith was the goal, and he would do that this time or die trying. Circumstances brought long delays but stronger fail-safes. When he escaped this insidious unitary realm, and it would be soon, he would get home. Until then, he had to keep playing dutiful commander, at very nearly the cost of his soul.

"You're proof that one can be tamed, sir. We don't have to wait years for someone to see the light, because you do make them see it."

"Right," Rick muttered, pulling out his binoculars, anxious to find this woman and get back to reviewing his exit plan.

"You bring in the strongest people. I can find them, but you get them to come without bullets or bloodshed."

"Without as much of the bullets and bloodshed."

"It proves your powers of persuasion work."

"Like you said, it's about survival. They stay or they die. There's no persuasion, just truth. Coming with us means living. It took me a while to get, but I got it. If this woman has true leadership ability, she's smart, and will choose to ride back." Rick scanned the expanse of grass and small trees, ready to get on with this. "I don't see any woman."

"She was in this general area." Hatton pulled out his binoculars and looked around. "The water is too wide and deep to cross, and we didn't see her near the front clearing when we landed. Maybe she moved to a smaller clearing further back." Hatton spoke into his shoulder-clipped radio. "Spread out and contact when you locate the subject."

The three men replied in the affirmative and Rick and Hatton continued their search.

Just off to the east, Rick noticed motion and then saw what he knew had to be one of his visions. The daily occurrences multiplied exponentially this time of year. He dropped the binoculars to his side, closed his eyes tightly, swallowed deeply, and then looked again.

Rick's heart skipped a beat and everything froze. This wasn't a vision. His visions didn't look like this. The image was always the same, but the look wasn't like this. The hair longer, styled differently. Arms the same, skin glistening, lovely, but the clothes, different: protective, yet perfectly clingy to that supple, slender body. The warm eyes, full lips, and pretty face were untouched by time, but could likely tell heart-wrenching tales brought by plethora emotions from the last eight years.

Eight years.

Until this moment, that's how long it had been since he'd seen her. His beautiful wife, his Michonne. Rick stifled the whimper that would unleash a torrent of tears carrying more emotions than he ever felt all at once. Michonne had defied time and the impossible. The impossible she first made happen many years ago when she walked up to the prison gates in Georgia and into his life. She had found him.

The hairs on the back of Michonne Grimes' neck stood on end. Rick was here. She didn't see him, but she felt him as sure as she felt the ground beneath her feet. She'd seen the helicopter, and the little info she had received had well prepared her for how to react to it. She knew it would come down, but she didn't think Rick would come down with it. He was near. It was as if she could feel his eyes on her and warm breath against her neck.

Getting here wasn't easy. Traveling hundreds of miles had been hard, although new friends met along the way had helped tremendously with the journey. The hardest part was being away from her children. This feeling, knowing their dad was near, made the last year and a half worth it. RJ would meet his father and Judith would him see Rick again. Michonne sighed. Her heart swelled. She would look into her husband's eyes again, touch his face, stroke his hair, be in his presence, in his arms. Hear his voice.

"Arms up and no sudden movements. Do what I say and you'll live, you understand me?"

The thick shrubbery parted with the barrel of a long black gun. A tall, large man stepped out with three other heavily armed men flanked behind. They were all dressed in black, from their full-face helmets to their boots and gloves, but the voice wasn't theirs.

That voice was one she knew like she knew herself, but had only heard in her dreams and playbacks of memories for the last eight years. Michonne inhaled deeply, attempting to steel herself. She wasn't easily shaken. She'd faced danger and devastating heartbreak more than she ever wanted, but this… She knew Rick. He was a man of action, not overly chatty, but his words meant something. He was giving her a warning. She did feel his eyes on her, and he needed her to know that he was aware of her presence and that she couldn't react to his. She drew one more deep breath and then another.

Don't cry. Don't show emotion. Don't cry!

The grass rustled once more, and in the next moment eight years of time froze. There was no breeze, no singing birds, but she wouldn't have noticed if it had been. Michonne only saw one thing: Rick. He was there, standing before her, dressed in black, sans helmet and gloves, with a glock holstered at his shoulder. His white beard was trimmed thin, his curly hair longer, but still mostly dark with frost at his temples. She noted light scarring on the right side of his face, near his forehead and temple, but he was still so handsome. He looked good, healthy, but tired, weary. She saw so much in those eyes of blue. Love, relief, happiness, and some fear.

What had he been through?

Michonne had some understanding, but not nearly enough. Remembering his words before the men arrived, she held up her hands. She would be strong, because he would make her strong.

In a flash, Rick was behind her. "How I've missed you," he whispered huskily against her ear. She trembled, feeling his breath against her. "We're strangers, play along. I love you." He removed the scabbard and tossed it near the men. "Any other weapons?" Rick's hands trailed along her sides and around her waist, patting her down to her legs and back up again. His breath hitched as he continued up her inner thighs and then once more past her hips, lightly caressing her backside before completing his search.

"There's a knife in the bag over by my horse," she answered, managing to keep her voice even, wobbly legs still, and body upright from feeling Rick's touch after so long. His feel up pat down had brought renewed life to long-dormant body parts.

Rick joined the men a few feet away, and stood right across from her. It wasn't a hot day, but his face was now flushed. He managed to conceal the evidence with a strategically placed hand, but Michonne knew him, and he was aroused. Not full on, but definitely awake. At least they were struggling together.

He cleared his throat and pushed the available hand down. The men's weapons lowered as did her arms. "You alone?" he asked, folding his hands at his lower adomen.

"Yes, besides Millie." She motioned to the brown horse off in the distance.

"What's your name?"

"Mi -" Rick's eyes widened. "It's Michelle," she said, catching his drift. "I go by Shelly."

"Why are you here, Shelly?"

"I was looking for someone."

"Who?"

"You," she said and then added, "them. People. I was looking for people to call mine. It's been a long time since I've been with anyone. I can take care of myself, I'm not easily frightened, but it's good to have people. Something and someone to fight for and beside, someone to talk to, you know? Millie's a good girl, but not much of a conversationalist." She chuckled weakly, spotting the humor in Rick's eyes. "You people appear strong, you're armed, obviously fed, tactical gear. I noticed the helicopter. I've seen it flying around the last few days."

"You men see her flag it down?" Rick asked.

The men shook their heads.

"If she noticed the bird, she didn't show it," remarked big guy.

"I didn't flag it down," she said. "It's unusual to see a helicopter flying about, but I'm not a damsel in distress, and I wasn't hiding." Michonne shrugged. "In the times we're living, desperation is not your friend. You're here talking to me. You approached me."

Rick tilted his head. "Is that what you wanted?" he said, hints of that lazy drawl breaking through, making her forget they were in the middle of what could become a very untenable situation if they didn't play this just right.

"It isn't not."

"Hey!" Big guy barked. "We like strong, not attitude and overconfidence." He approached, gun pointed. "I think someone needs to teach this chick–"

"Hatton!" Rick screeched, ceasing the man's words.

"Sorry, Commander Grimes," said a chastened Hatton, lowering his gun and stepping back.

"You talk tough, Ms. Shelly," Rick said, "but this, us, what we do, it isn't a game."

"I don't know what you do, but I don't play games, and I think you get that. I needed confidence in abundance to stay alone out here as long as I have, so I hold on to it. I use the skills I possess to get what I need." She took a tentative step toward Rick, being mindful of the readily riled Hatton. "You seem to be in charge. Don't you call the shots? Decide if I get on that chopper and go to wherever you call home?"

"Yes."

"Do I get to come along?"

"I don't know," Rick said, walking around her, getting an eyeful, but trying to appear overly scrutinizing. "You've got this cool, laid-back way, and you're very smart, we are down here, but you're also dangerous. A quiet danger, the worst kind. I know, I'm dangerous."

"Dangerous?" Michonne tilted her head and grinned, picking up context clues from Rick. They had a way of reading each other, speaking without saying a word or saying more with their words. After eight years, it seemed to still be in sync. He wanted a way to get her with him, but couldn't appear obvious. She had to help that along. "You don't seem so dangerous to me. I can show you that I'm not as dangerous as you think. In fact, I'm a pussycat."

Rick shook his head, chuckling. Michonne smiled. Mission accomplished.

"Puss – Are you flirting with the commander?" said Hatton, sounding shocked, amazed, and outraged at the thought.

Her eyes stayed on Rick. "If the commander can't tell, I must be doing something wrong. You won't regret bringing me in, but I don't need saving."

"If we decide not to take you, you will." Hatton tapped the weapon now hoisted at his shoulder, his implication clear.

"You see how things are, right?" Rick said.

Michonne got the picture. Rick had some power here, she knew that coming in, but not enough to get away. Getting him extracted would be hard, but she could face anything with him. It broke her heart to think of all he'd faced for so long without her. "You saw something in me of value," she said. "You wouldn't be here if you didn't think I could be helpful. I want to be helpful."

"Hmm." Rick nodded. "You are strong," he said, "too strong to be wasted by a bullet, but you're in need of an attitude adjustment."

"Attitude adjustment? Is that a threat?"

"I don't make threats, and you're gonna find that out real soon." Rick pulled a blindfold from his security belt and covered her eyes. "I'm going to keep you with me."

Rick glanced over his shoulder at Hatton who had followed him as he escorted Michonne to his quarters. "You can go now," he said, removing the blindfold and directing Michonne to the compact sofa. "She won't be a problem."

"I don't know, sir," Hatton said from the door. "You never bring women back here, and that one is…"

"Right here," Michonne offered.

"Not like any other," Rick countered. "That's why she's here." Rick found it harder and harder to look away from her. Michonne was there, serving up the attitude he needed her to, but he feared if he looked away for one second too long, she would disappear, confirming this had to be a dream. He had so many questions, so many things to say, but more than anything, he just needed to hold her, to feel her heartbeat next to his, to kiss her. Rick forced his attention to the straggler. "Go on, Hatton, I got it."

"But, sir, she has a knife."

"In a bag, by the door. She can't reach it or the sword. It's under control. Dismissed!"

"Yes, sir." Following an unnecessary salute, Hatton departed.

When the footsteps faded, Rick locked the door. After a beat, he slowly turned around. The very real-looking image was still there. A sob welled up in his chest and the tears he'd been holding back for hours flowed furiously. "I'm not having a crazy fever dream, am I? You're really here."

"Yes," she said, the single word opening her own floodgates. "I'm here, Rick." She sniffled. "I'm really here." Michonne raced over and leapt into his arms. Feeling that heartbeat, feeling Michonne, Rick held her so tightly he thought she would break, but she just squeezed him more fiercely. "Never let me go, Rick."

"Never," he said. "Never."

Continuing to cling to each other, their mouths met in a deep and adoring kiss. The questions Rick had and the ones he knew she had took a backseat to this needed moment for them to just be after so long. Michonne's sweet lips and warm tongue tasted better, felt softer than he remembered. Everything was better than he remembered: the feel of her fingers in his hair, the thump-thumping of her heart against his chest, and her fabulous backside against his palms. Even miles away from Alexandria, in this hell he never wanted to be, in this second, with Michonne wrapped in his arms, Rick knew he was home.

He lowered her feet to the floor, and pulled back slightly. "Let me look at you." She held his hand and performed a slow turn, his watery-gaze drinking her in. She looked like an empress warrior, from the protective top to the leg guards that looked to be fashioned from natural leather. His sexy, slaying queen. "Mmm." Rick cupped her cheek, his fingers twined in her long locs. "Your hair is beautiful. You are so beautiful, Michonne." He kissed her softly. "I have missed you so much."

"Same." She pressed her forehead to his. "I've missed you more than you could ever know." Her hands traveled from his hair to his face, to his shoulders, chest, arms, and back to his face. "I can't stop touching you." Her fingers skimmed the fading burn scars with her lips following suit. "You were hurt so badly," she said, kissing his hands that also carried reminders of the explosion. "I remember how you were bleeding."

"None of that pain can't compare to the pain of living eight years away from you and Judith. She's almost a teenager. She's at Alexandria?"

"Yes, she's there." Michonne clasped his hands to her chest exhaling deeply. "Rick, there's so much I need to tell you. So much you need to know."

"Me, too. Please know, I have tried so hard to get back to you. So, so hard. That's all I have cared about."

"I know. I know who you are."

He touched his forehead to hers. "How – how did you get here? How did you find me?"

"That is a very long story." She kissed his nose. "I will explain everything later, but I need to tell you something else first."

"Judith's fine, right?"

"The last time I spoke with Judith she was fine. Full disclosure, it's been a year and a half since I've seen or talked to her, because that's when I left to find you, and those details are a part of the long story for later. She's home with family, Rick, so other than ours, she couldn't be in better hands. That gives me peace. I know she's safe. I would've never left if I thought she wouldn't be."

"Of course not." He kissed her softly, lovingly, more impressed by her with every second. He's tried for eight years to get to her, and she'd found him in less than two. She was the missing piece in every aspect of his life. "I know what a fierce mother you are, and what a fierce wife."

"I try to be." She sighed. "What I have to say isn't about Judith, but I have to tell you…"

He stopped her words with a kiss. "Can it wait?" Getting lost in her warm brown eyes, Rick erased the non-existent space between them and curled his arms around her waist, his hands on her perfect ass. Michonne's shuddered breaths marked her awareness of what he wanted, and he wanted. Of that there was no denial. "I know we have a lot to talk about and say to each other, but we're finally together, Judith is safe, and all I can think about is how much I miss us." Unable to resist, his lips settled on her neck, nipping and licking the racing pulse points that beat in time to throbbing in his cock. "I love you so much, Michonne, and I want, I need to feel all of you. To drown in you."

She nodded. "Me, too." Rick leaned down for a kiss. "But," she said with a whimper, pressing her hand to his lips, "what I have to say can't wait."

Rick's growing arousal made the ability to think clearly almost impossible. Michonne had to say something, it wasn't about Judith, and she needed to say it before they made love. She wasn't upset or angry, just determined. The light bulb beamed in his head, and he felt terrible for not seeing it sooner.

"Michonne." Pushing locs away, Rick kissed her forehead and held fast to her hands, his heart wide open as he gazed into her eyes. "I've been gone a long time, but I promise, I have been true to you and our commitment. There has been no one else, because there is no one else. You are my wife and the love of my entire life." Rick brushed tears streaming down her face. "Now, aside from the last year and half, I know you probably thought I was dead, so if there had been someone else in your life, I don't…"

"Thing is, Rick," she said sniffling, "there is someone else in my life, and he is amazing."

That admission rattled him and was more effective than any cold shower. "Is?" he croaked, feeling his heart crack in his chest.

"Yes."

Rick wondered if the guy had tagged along. Michonne had said she'd been gone a year and a half. Had he been hiding behind the trees and shrubbery, some stealth, waiting for a secret signal to come to the rescue? "Do - do you love him?"

Michonne's face brightened and her eyes lit up like stars, giving Rick his answer before she uttered a word. "With all my heart, yes." She nodded.

A crippling breath rushed from Rick's lungs. "Wow." He stumbled to the small sofa, feeling like he'd been hit by a truck. This explained the halt in lovemaking. Why did she travel this far and this long to kick him in the nuts? "Michonne, if this guy makes you this happy…"

"He makes me happier than I ever thought I could be after I lost you."

"If you talking about him is any indication, he truly stole your heart."

"Like a thief in the night."

Despite his anguish, Rick was genuinely happy for her happiness, but he was boiling with a seething jealousy. Who the hell was this guy? Ezekiel was into Carol, but he'd seen the man checking out Michonne. He could count at least a dozen men from the various communities that he'd spotted stealing glances at her when he wasn't right at her side. They were smart enough to stay clear when he was around, but of course they would pounce the moment he was out of the way. "Is he somebody I know?"

"You don't know him personally, but you do know his father very well."

"His father?" Rick tried to recall older guys with sons age appropriate for Michonne. He was sure there was somebody, but he was drawing a blank. "What's this guy's name?"

"RJ." She smiled. "He's named after his father."

"R –" Rick's squinted eyes widened as everything she'd been saying clicked into place. He blinked and blinked, but couldn't stop the tears. Happiness, pride, and crushing regret for so much he'd missed filled him. "RJ?"

"Uh-huh." Michonne nodded. "Rick Grimes, Jr. A little guy I love as much as I love his father, and he looks so much like his father."

Michonne."

She made her way to the couch and closed her hands around his face, wiping his tears. "That's what I had to tell you, Rick. I had your son."

~Thanks for reading!~

Note: I stopped watching TWD after Michonne left, so all I really know about the CRM is they have Rick. I know none of the characters associated with them, who the leader is, or what they do. I searched online, saw they wear a lot of black, and what CRM means. I did watch the last five minutes of the final episode, so I pulled info from that, too. Everything else about them in this story is from my imagination.