Rick walks into the bedroom of his old house, in his crisply ironed sheriff uniform, his hat squarely on his head. The muted brown and tans clash against the off-white shiplap surrounding him.

At a wall, next to numerous floating shelves filled with overly cutesy tchotchkes that he mocked at a trip to Home Goods once, is a full length mirror, with someone standing in front of it.

A head of long, dark hair. Her brown leather zip vest with a purple tank top underneath hangs ill fittingly around her frame. The jeans, even with a studded belt fashioned at the waist, is slightly slouched in the backside area. The whole attire looks baggy and offensively costume-like at the same time.

"There's so much I want to ask. I just don't know how to say it." Rick words are trembling out of his mouth already at the mere idea of seeing her.

Lori keeps brushing her hair. "I don't need you to say anything."

"Does everyone know that Judith is not mine?"

"Everyone but Shane."

Rick's heart sinks. "Why didn't you let me make this work between us?"

Lori spins around, unphased. Her complexion glowing, she gestures down past her hips. "Because all of this doesn't fit."

Rick scoffs, moving closer, his feet gliding, before sitting on the foot of the bed. "You're ignoring my question."

"I can assure you that I'm not."

"I don't even know where you got that outfit from."

Lori joins him sitting down. "Oh, honey, yes you do." She says, uncharacteristically chirping the words.

Rick shakes his head, feeling a warm wash of panic over his body. "Why are you wearing that?"

"Because you said 'You see thangs'." Her lips curl briefly into a pucker before she laughs.

"I was joking."

"You were flirting."

"No." Rick takes off his hat, which seems to grow three sizes bigger on his lap the more he stares at it. "It's troublesome."

"What's troubling about it?"

Rick takes all the strength he has to look at her. "It's too soon."

"It's OK. She seems…nice."

"I barely know her, but I believe there's more to her than just 'nice'." Rick hears himself scoff and feels his brow furrowing.

"Like what? What's the first thing that springs to mind?"

Rick stares the ceiling, seeing nothing but white. "I guess I'd say she…she's a real woman." He stares at Lori up and down, taking it in, wishing she wore anything else. "I am so sorry."

"You don't need to be." Lori says with a smile. Then she rubs the top of her head and squints at him. "Let me ask you something though, Rick. Are you an ass man, and you yourself didn't even know until now?"

It was either the sound of the car tires hastily finding gravity as the car frame bounced, or the feeling of his stomach dropping, but Rick woke up, gasping for air and clutching the center console. He looked to his left and steadied his focus on Michonne's profile at the driver's seat in order to bring himself back to reality.

She glanced at him. "Whoops. Speedbumps. Got to love them." Her eyes went back to the road. "Carl, let's go. It's your turn."

Rick spun his head back to see his son with a pout and crossed arms, with a colorful cat sculpture playfully buckled up next to him. "Michonne, I didn't even like this game in the before times."

Rick looked back at Michonne, noting a small smile on her face.

"It builds up your memory, it's like your brain is eating vegetables."

"I can't believe I'm saying this, but I'd rather eat the vegetables."

Michonne's smile grew even more. "Humor me, or it's going to be just your dad and I doing this together and you'll be even more bored."

Rick found his bearings. "Carl, she wants to play a game, let's play!" He caught Michonne stealing another moment to look at him as she chuckled.

A dejected sigh filled the car, followed by: "A my name is Amy and I hunt for alligators. B my name is Brian and I—"