AN: Set Post-TOWL Episode 6. About three months since Rick and Michonne's return to Alexandria. A typical evening meal, where the tomatoes aren't the only thing getting roasted (hint: it's Rick). Rated G for Grimes family banter, some parent flirtations, and the best damn grilled cheese Michonne's ever had. Unbeta'd, all errors are mine.
Really enjoyed reading everyone's thoughts on the last chapter! I know there's a lot of fans of Team 'New Richonne baby', and I could certainly see the possibility of it happening down the road, but I wanted to explore the idea of them being able to enjoy and reconnect with their family as is, for now. As always, thank you so much for taking the time to comment, I genuinely appreciate it! I've got about two more chapters left of this tale, and I'm hoping to wrap it up soon. So for now, let's jump into this one-shot.
"I think we can wrap for the day." Michonne glanced around at the other members of the ASZ's council, and shut her notebook. "We'll meet again at the end of the week, and see where we're at on the progress for the proposed training area and the new gardens in the development expansion."
"Sounds great, Michonne." Aaron nodded along with the rest of the council members. "Good work everyone."
She lingered only a little while, comparing notes with Aaron and getting a weapons update from Hope before bidding them both a goodbye. With her meetings ended, and the Cherrywood expansion progress observed and reported on, Michonne was eager to leave the business of business behind and spend her downtime with her family.
There was a chill in the late afternoon spring air when she exited the meeting house, shivering slightly in her thin green sweater, and wishing she was already home with a cup of something hot warming her hands.
She made a quick stop at the community pantry for their rations, pleased to see there had been an abundance of meat and eggs, thanks in part to the Safe Zone's recent chicken surge. Michonne was busy running through possible recipe ideas for the week when a loud wolf whistle from behind jolted her from her thoughts.
"Hey! Hot mama with the basket."
Shaking her head, she turned on the sidewalk to see Rick swaggering towards her in his easy, bowlegged gait, grinning broadly. His curls lifted lightly in the slight breeze, and he raked his hand through them as he approached.
"You better stop flirting with me," she warned him, smiling through the toothless threat. "My husband's around here somewhere, and he can fight now…"
"I ain't scared of him," he replied with a laugh, chasing her lips with a soft kiss. "'Sides, I'm feelin' lucky."
Giggling, Michonne shifted the grocery basket to the side of her hip so she could cup his jaw. "Mmm, a risk-taker. I like it." His hand snaked down, wrapping around her waist in a hold that was as gentle as the kiss he dropped to her forehead.
"Finally get you to myself…" he rumbled, which Michonne had to smile at, because they were very much still in view of the few Safe Zone residents milling around, though no one's attention seemed directly focused on them. Not that she would've noticed anyway. Rick was very good at keeping her distracted.
"You had me to yourself this morning," she reminded him, her mind drifting back to their early AM cuddle, the session eventually interrupted by their children barreling in and piling on their bed.
"I'll take as much of you as I can get." He leaned back, blue eyes holding her gaze. "Productive meetin' with the crew?"
"Mhm. Very productive. Expansion's coming along. And Mrs. Chadha was working at the pantry today. Think I might be getting my chai hookup after all."
Rick smiled and brushed a kiss to her cheek. "I knew you would."
They swayed slightly, cozy in the warmth between them, keeping out the barely there chill, soaking in the comfortable silence until eventually, Michonne spoke again. "What about you? Good session today?"
He tensed only slightly at the mention of his weekly therapy appointments, and she swiped his cheek with her thumb in a soothing caress.
"Not too bad," Rick told her, his shoulders dropping as his gaze softened at her actions. "Thinkin' we might have to make that trip to the Commonwealth happen soon. Doctor B. says they've got the means there to do the prosthetic proper."
They parted but remained close, Michonne slipping her fingers through his as they ambled down the tree-lined street towards their brownstone. "And it's really something you want? The new prosthetic?"
Rick considered the question as they crossed the street. "Yeah, It is. Figure it's also time for us to see this place in person, bein' in an alliance and all."
"I agree," Michonne said with a nod. "We can feel it out, make our own judgments."
Rick gave her hand a gentle squeeze, glad they were on the same page, as he knew they would be. "Figure they can't all be like the Civil Republic, especially if Ezekiel's in charge."
"Good point. The supply drops speak volumes about the kind of people they are, and what Ezekiel's doing there. They're willing to help." She gave his fingers a gentle squeeze. "And I'm glad you want to accept some of that help for yourself."
"Yeah." He had his reservations, knowing how and what the CRM made of him, and the significance of leaving that weapon behind. But he was willing to consider what the Commonwealth could offer, with a different prosthetic. "Guess it's not so bad. Acceptin' the new. 'Sides, I can't be in the cool kids club with Aaron without one."
She looked over, laughing at his ridiculous joke and the grin he sported. "Cool kids club, huh?"
"That's what Aaron told me the kids are callin' it. Somethin' tells me they all got it from Jerry."
Michonne shook her head. "Really not surprising. Speaking of children, do you happen to know where ours are?"
"They're home," Rick told her, swinging their joined hands. "Classes let out early, so they're either doin' homework or throwin' a rager."
Her giggle slipped out, loud and unchecked and she nudged his shoulder. "You're so damn ridiculous."
"You bring it outta me, sweetheart."
Looking at his grin, sweet and crooked and brightening his handsome face, some days it was hard to believe he was the same man she'd encountered at the CRM. He shed the military black, trading the armor for jeans and his button downs, once again resembling the rugged Georgia cowboy full of promises about building a future together. They were both different, of course; the years they lost saw to that. But at the core, what remained was the unchanging, grounding love.
And Michonne's need to bust his chops every once in a while.
"Your sense of humor's always been kind of hit or miss."
Rick scoffed as he followed her up their front steps, taking the moment to admire her jean-clad bottom bouncing in his view, before he was back to being offended. "Don't do me like that, Chonne. I'm funny."
Michonne passed him the basket of groceries and unlocked the door. "I've never known you to tell a joke on purpose."
"Not sayin' I'm Lenny Bruce, but I've gotten a few chuckles. Even from you."
"Your references are dating you, old man." She couldn't help teasing him, if only for the glare he tossed in her direction, which actually did make her laugh and she had to give him points for effort.
"The disrespect…" Rick mumbled, swatting at her butt when they entered the house, and nimbly dodging her retaliation as he headed to the kitchen to drop off their groceries.
Judith and RJ were at the kitchen table, with Judith cuddling Ramona in her lap and RJ nose deep in his reading, though from Rick's quick glance over, it didn't seem to be school-related.
"Homework all finished?" Michonne asked when she entered the kitchen, already working to unpack their groceries from the basket.
"Yup," Judith answered, smiling when her father kissed her hair and gave Ramona a quick pat. He ruffled RJ's curls, who looked up long enough to greet his parents before returning to the adventures in his comic book. "It was an easy day."
"That's good," Rick said. "You need help with dinner, Chonne?"
Michonne peered from the open refrigerator door at her husband. "Who's helping?"
Rick pointed to his chest. "The one who's offerin', ma'am."
Which greatly amused her, judging from the smile threatening to slip out as she watched him, his hand on his hip and head tilted in a perplexed expression.
Considering the majority of his meals for the last eight or so years had been prepared in a mess hall by workers and eaten either alone at a table or in the solitude of his lonely apartment, Michonne had a bit of grace when it came to Rick and meal expectations.
Prior to his untimely exit from Alexandria, they more or less split the business of cooking. As the earliest riser, Rick had always handled breakfast; making the coffee and one hell of a tasty scramble, not to mention the best pancakes she'd ever had outside of a diner.
"You think you can handle that? You're great with breakfast, baby, but dinner—"
"Dad made spaghetti the other night, Mama!" RJ offered, and Rick gestured towards his son.
"There ya go. Thanks, Junior. And look, Chonne, they ate it and they're still standin'."
Michonne raised a finger, ready to counterpoint. "Hold up, you only boiled the noodles. That sauce was all me, Grimes. That was in the freezer from last week."
"Ooh, Mom got you there, Daddy," Judith chimed in eagerly, with Ramona meowing along at the lighthearted back and forth.
Rick clutched his chest, wounded at the betrayal. "You too, Judybug? Whose side are y'all on?"
"Any side that feeds us, really," she replied, earning a chimed in 'yeah!' from her little brother. "You make the best pancakes though. Mom's just better at dinner stuff."
"That's my girl," Michonne hi-fived her daughter and booped Ramona's nose, while ignoring Rick's dramatic scoff. "We've got a lot of tomatoes from the pantry today. How about tomato soup?"
"I'll help!" RJ tossed down his comic and went searching the lower cupboards for the baking pan, eager to assist his mother in one of his favorite meals.
"Alright, alright." Rick raised his hand and dropped onto one of the stools by the island counter. "I'll stick to my damn pancakes. At least y'all gave me that. But let the record show that I can cook—"
"Of course, baby," Michonne conceded, not even bothering to hide her laughter at the kids' giggling. "We've all got our strengths."
"Like how RJ's better at shootin' with his bow than I am," Judith explained.
"I am!" RJ chimed in. "But Judy's cool with her sword, like Mama."
"That's right," Michonne replied cheerily. She pulled out the cutting board and knife, setting them beside the large bowl of large, ripe tomatoes. "You know what goes perfectly with tomato soup, though? Grilled cheese. And your Dad makes the best ones."
"Really?" RJ looked between his parents, happy to learn something new about his father. "The best?"
Rick's smile was small but fond, remembering their early days in Alexandria. When everyone had finally branched out to their respective houses, and it had only been him, Michonne, and the kids. Somehow they knew when the other wasn't sleeping, the pair of them eventually wandering down to the kitchen, taking advantage of the new setting and being spoiled for food choices.
He made them grilled cheese sandwiches, and Michonne didn't know if it was just having actual food to eat after weeks of starving or if he was simply a wizard with the buttery bread and melted cheese slices, but it was the best damn thing she'd eaten, and she'd told him exactly that, savoring his reaction to her compliment almost as much as the sandwich itself. His initial surprised shyness gave way to mellow, almost flirtatious confidence at having pleased her.
Since then, whenever they had the means for it, late night grilled cheese became their thing. A token of their friendship, a signifier of their growing closeness, a peace offering that bridged the occasional disagreement, and something to savor and safeguard when romance bloomed and deepened.
In the years without him, she often tried to recreate whatever magic he conjured with it, trying to figure out his secret, but never managed to get it quite right. Just one of the many ways his presence was missed.
Michonne's gaze drifted to her husband, meeting his eyes as she spoke again, her voice soft and warm. "The best I've ever had."
"Can you make 'em tonight, Dad?" Judith asked, smiling at the loving looks between her parents.
RJ nodded, shuffling the Michonne's cut tomatoes onto the baking pan. "Yeah, Dad? Can you?"
Rick turned his focus to his children and with a heaving, dramatic sigh, he slid from the stool. "Well since y'all asked so nicely, I think I can get a lil somethin' together."
He gave Michonne's hip a gentle squeeze on his way to the fridge, savoring the cozy sounds of his wife and children's chatter in the background.