Chapter 5: December. Christmas.
A wintery sky was the view outside the window of Miss Hawthorne's class, and the room was decorated for Christmas. A Christmas playlist tinkled through the room at a low volume.
Michonne loved this time of year due to the joyful, peaceful mood that seemed to blanket everything and everyone. But she hated the cold. She was bundled up in a form-fitting, white sweater and black pants that were tucked into black, high-heeled boots.
"A lot of writing competition deadlines are coming up now that we're about to start a new year," Michonne was saying. She was ending a meeting with the YA Writers' Club. "Make sure you get those submissions in. And if there's an entry fee you can't or don't want to pay, let me know. We still have money in the club budget that can cover you."
That reminded Michonne that she needed to plan another fundraising event soon so that they could increase said budget. She made a note in her planner.
"Okay," she said to the ten students in the club. "You are dismissed. Happy holidays."
The students began to file out of the classroom. As they left, Michonne was surprised to see Rick and Lori come in. "Hi!" she said, greeting them. "What can I do for you?"
"Lori's here to pick up Carl. They're going on vacation," Rick informed.
"Ah! That's right," Michonne said. Carl had told her that he was going on a Christmas vacation with his mom's side of the family. It would have him gone for three weeks and missing a week of school. He would be back in time for Christmas to celebrate with his dad and the rest of his family. "I hope you have a good time, Carl," she said, giving him a smile as he gathered his things.
"I will," Carl said. Excitement shone in his eyes. He gave Michonne a quick hug and said goodbye to his dad before he followed his mom out the door.
"You're not leaving with them?" Michonne asked Rick who was still lingering in the classroom. She folded her black jacket over her arm and took her purse in her hands. She was looking forward to going home and taking a nap. Her body was already gearing up to go into relaxation mode in anticipation of the upcoming Christmas break.
"Oh, no," Rick said. "We didn't come together. I just happened to meet Lori outside. I came here to see you."
"You did?" Michonne asked, slightly taken aback. She settled against her desk. "Well, what do you want, Grimes?"
"I haven't heard from you since Thanksgiving," Rick said. He shifted from one foot to the other. "Thought I'd check in on you."
A bit of guilt washed over Michonne. The small dinner she had had with Rick and Carl right before Thanksgiving had been fun. It had been intimate. It scared her. So when Rick had texted her the next day with a conversation starter, she left him on read. And besides the 'Happy Thanksgiving' text she had shot back in reply to his own, she had ghosted him for…a week now.
"I'm fine," she said. "Just been busy."
She knew it wasn't a sufficient answer, but she didn't have a better excuse. If Rick felt wounded by her response, he didn't let it show. He stepped forward. "Do you want to go somewhere?" he asked. "For coffee?"
"I don't know…" Michonne said. She took a glance at the watch on her wrist. "I was really looking forward to getting home."
When Michonne looked up to meet Rick's eyes, she could tell that he was confused. Understandable. She was confused as well. She just needed…time. Time to sort out her feelings and put them in a safe place. Under lock and key of a guarded heart that was set to release said feelings at timed intervals that only she could control.
Rick considered Michonne for a moment. "You asked me if I still want to get to know you if a relationship isn't in the cards," he said. "I am. I'm willin'. I'm willin' to take whatever you give so…Can you give me somethin'?" He shrugged a shoulder. It seemed that he was uncaring of the hint of desperation that was threaded through his plea.
"And then what did you say?" Sasha asked. They were strolling through the grocery store, getting the ingredients to make Christmas-themed cinnamon rolls from scratch. Michonne had woken up from her nap and decided she needed a girls' night in at Sasha's cozy apartment. It was already decorated for Christmas. Michonne still needed to put her Christmas tree and lights up.
"I said, 'I have to go. I'll see you later, Rick,'" she replied, recounting her conversation from earlier.
Sasha groaned and held her hands up to mime strangling Michonne. "You are killin' me!" she said. She snatched a bag of Cheetos off of the shelf and threw it into the buggy they were carting around. "That bow-legged strut…I bet he would have you walkin' just like him if you would let him do what he wants to do to you."
"Shut up," Michonne snickered with an affectionate eye roll.
"No, I'm serious!" Sasha said. "I don't understand. You told me you've been fantasizing about this guy, and here he is offering you a no-strings situation. Just in time for the holidays! Girl, this is a gift! Why are you trying to return it?"
Michonne sighed. "I was more than ready to have a quick, casual hookup with Rick," she confessed honestly. "But then I was sitting around the table with him and Carl, and we were laughing and it was very…Hallmark. I have inside jokes with his son. There's no way we can be casual. If I'm going to hook up with someone, it needs to be with a stranger. Like I said."
"Be for real," Sasha said. "You're way too pragmatic to hook up with a stranger. Besides…haven't you heard of friends with benefits? You can care about the guy and still get your rocks off. Just make it clear in your head - 'I like this guy as a friend. But we fuck sometimes. I like this guy as a friend. But we fuck sometimes.' Or are you saying you already like him as more than a friend?"
"I don't know…" Michonne scrunched her face up with uncertainty. "Maybe?"
"Maybe?!" Sasha said unsympathetically. "Why don't you fuck him and figure it out?"
Michonne scoffed. "You're no help. I'm literally pouring my heart out to you-"
Michonne paused at the end of the aisle as she caught sight of someone she never wanted to see again. Mike and a woman she only recognized from selfies she discovered in Mike's phone were standing in the checkout line. A young boy of around eight years old was standing between them.
"Why aren't you moving?" Sasha asked. She walked forward and craned her neck to see what Michonne was looking at. When she caught sight of what had her friend frozen, she frowned. "I thought he was still in Atlanta."
"I did too," Michonne said lowly. She stepped out of eyesight before they could feel her watching. "Let's hurry up and get the rest of this stuff and go." She backtracked through the aisle and led Sasha to get the rest of the ingredients that they needed. By the time they were done and headed to the checkout line themselves, Mike and his family were already gone.
"You wanna talk about it?" Sasha asked when they made it back to her place and started to lay things out on the kitchen counter.
"Nope," Michonne said. She just wanted to get the cinnamon rolls made and indulge in some cheesy rom-com so that the taste of sweets on her tongue and the scripted dialogue of strangers could drown out any other useless thoughts.
Sasha respected her request. The smell of baked goods filled Sasha's cozy apartment until they were finally able to stuff themselves with cinnamon rolls, gossip about everything besides Michonne's love life, and watch two rom-coms that featured questionable acting and wacky situations.
Twenty minutes into their third rom-com, Sasha fell asleep on her shoulder. Michonne pouted. Binge-watching always lost its magic once fellow late-night watchers started succumbing to their exhaustion. She gently pushed Sasha's head off of her shoulder and slid away, replacing her body with a pillow. Then she turned the television off.
She worked off the cinnamon rolls with a few push-ups and sit-ups before she decided to take a shower and try to go to bed.
But it was when she was lying awake in Sasha's guest bedroom and a large button-down that what she had seen at the grocery store came unbidden to her mind like a freight train crashing through a brick wall. Seeing Mike and Monica - she would never forget that name - with their son had felt like a bucket of ice water being thrown over her head. Because not only were they still together, they looked…happy. For some reason, she had always imagined that his life had fallen apart after she was gone. She always expected him to be alone and unhappy…like she was. But no, he had moved on. He was thriving and happy with the family that had caused their break-up in the first place.
Michonne huffed. She needed a distraction. Her eyes fell to the phone that rested on the nightstand next to the bed. Before her mind could catch up to her and warn her away, she grabbed it.
Rick put the book he had been reading aside, pulled off his reading glasses, and settled underneath his covers. He was usually fast asleep by two o'clock in the morning, but he was enjoying an empty house and the lack of responsibilities that being off work the following day afforded him. He was about to turn over and give in to the sleep that he had previously avoided when his phone lit up beside him. He took it into his hand to see what message he had received and almost dropped it onto his face when he saw.
It was an image of Michonne lying in bed with a large button-down shirt splayed open to display her breasts which were supported beautifully by a black lace bra. "You up?" the message underneath the image read.
Rick cleared his throat and fumbled with his phone, trying to think of what to say. Should he send an image back? Michonne had blown him off just a few hours ago; now she was sending him suggestive photos. It was…confusing.
'Did you mean to send this to me?' he ended up texting back.
Dots appeared at the bottom of Rick's messaging screen, and he waited. "Yes," the message read. 'It's for you, Rick.'
Rick's heart pounded in his chest. Well…He said he would take whatever she gave. He sank down in bed, lifted his shirt, and snapped a picture of his nipples. Along with the image, he sent: 'Mine aren't as pretty as yours but…Merry Christmas.' He hoped he made her laugh. He imagined her smile stretching wide in his mind's eye.
Three dots.
'Don't sell yourself short. Look what you did to me.' Another image of Michonne's breasts came in, except they were now bare and her erect nipples were on full display.
Rick's heart was now pitter-pattering in his chest like an excited rabbit. Michonne had just sent him nudes. They were really doing this.
'Beautiful,' he sent.
'Do you want to touch them?' Michonne texted back.
Rick's manhood stirred. 'Yes.'
'Tell me what you would do if you could touch them.'
'I'd lick one nipple and then the other.' Rick's mouth watered at just the thought. He didn't stop to think of the speed at which things were escalating. He was just going with the flow. He had been waiting months for some kind of green light, and this seemed to be it. 'I bet you taste so good.'
'I do. I'd taste so good on your tongue, Rick Grimes. I'm touching myself at the thought of your lips on me.' The three sentences came in quick succession, one right after the other.
A feral energy awoke within Rick. 'Sgwi me,' he typed. "Fuck!" 'Show me,' he amended.
Rick received another image. Michonne's hand was pushed down inside her underwear.
Breathing heavily, Rick pushed his hand down inside his own boxers to grip his quickly hardening penis. He snapped a picture and sent it. As he waited for Michonne's next words, he stared at Michonne's photo and gently stroked his member. He imagined peeling her underwear to the side and sinking slowly into her until his member was fully coated with her juices and he was gripped tight within her walls.
The three dots appeared.
He licked his lips. His strokes remained gentle, but the pace of his hand slightly increased.
'I'll show you mine if you show me yours,' he read.
His heated manhood throbbed in his hand, excited from the words. Rick had never sent a dick pic in his life. If any of the citizens of King County could see him now, they would clutch their pearls at their wholesome and unassuming sheriff's deputy trembling in the dark and choking his chicken upon request. But the darkness of Rick's empty room cloaked his actions, and he did not feel shame. If it was for Michonne, he would do anything. He pulled his boxers down past his hips and sent a picture of his hand wrapped around the base of his engorged sex.
Then he waited.
And waited.
The stroking of his shaft slowed to a stop.
'Michonne?'
He waited. Nothing.
'Can I call you?'
Finally…There were dots. They disappeared and then reappeared again. They disappeared. Rick held his breath.
'Meet me at the school.'
Rick sprinted from his bed.
When Rick pulled into the school parking lot, Michonne's blue Honda Accord was already there. She stepped out and approached Rick's vehicle as he parked. Rick unhooked his seatbelt and leaned over to open the passenger side door so that she could slide in.
"Can I ask why we're meeting here instead of at your place?" Rick asked.
"I was at Sasha's," Michonne answered.
Rick nodded. "Ah, okay. Well…Do you wanna go to my place then?" His hand went to the keys in the ignition to restart the car.
Michonne placed a hand over Rick's own to stop him. "No need for that," she said lowly. "Here's fine."
Her tone, honeyed and deep, caused Rick to stop in his actions. He looked over to find her pulling her sweater over her head. The black lace bra he had seen in her pictures was revealed to his gaze once again. Michonne didn't even hesitate or turn to look at him as she lifted her hips and began to peel off her pants. When her clothing was laid in a pile at her feet, she finally turned to look in Rick's direction. "Now you."
Rick felt like he should say something, but no words came to mind. Maybe none were needed…
He followed Michonne's lead and pulled his t-shirt over his head. He pushed his jeans to the floor. And then Michonne was climbing over the center console to straddle his lap.
Michonne sighed when she felt Rick's skin brushing against hers. She really was touch starved. She melted into him, taking euphoric reprieve in his body heat and the warmth of the vehicle. She nestled into his neck and rolled her hips against the hardness she could feel seeking attention against the well of pleasure between her thighs.
"Kiss me," she whispered into his ear.
She had had many fantasies about Rick Grimes at this point, but none of those fantasies included a kiss. She was desperate to know what his lips felt like against hers. Something told her that her imagination wouldn't be able to reach the potential of the real thing.
Rick turned to her, his breathing shaky with anticipation. "Yes, ma'am," he whispered. His breath touched her before his lips did.
The initial kiss was lingering…seeking. It was a simple touch of lips against lips. But it made Michonne's heart pound. The chill that was creeping between the cracks of the car doors couldn't even penetrate the heat that was building within Michonne's body. She leaned in for more, and Rick obliged.
He pushed her lips open with his own and pulled her into a deep kiss. His tongue plundered the depths of her mouth. "Mmm," Michonne moaned. She wrapped her arms around his neck and fell against him willingly as Rick dropped the seat back as far as it would go.
"You feel so good against me," Michonne whispered. She undulated over him as their kisses turned slow and deep. His torso brushed against hers; one of his hands gripped the back of her neck while the other gripped her writhing hips. She rubbed against him like a content cat in the sun. If this one moment could have stretched into hours, Michonne would have gladly accepted the temporal distortion.
"Let me take you back home," Rick said. He kissed beneath her ear, down her neck. "Make love to you in my bed."
"No," Michonne moaned. "Fuck me here." She circled her hips against the hard length straining against his boxers.
They kissed for a long time, simply enjoying the taste and feel of each other. They kissed until Michonne was properly wet; they kissed until they both became so aroused that they were dry humping in the front seat.
Michonne broke their tangle of tongues to throw her head back and focus on the pleasure that the friction of their bodies was building down below. "Rick," she moaned.
Gasping, Rick grasped Michonne's hips as she increased her pace. "Do you wanna come?" he asked. "Like this?"
"Yes," Michonne moaned. "I wanna come." It had been too long since she had felt a man's hard body underneath hers, responding to her every move and sound. She felt Rick's hands slide up her waist to grasp her breasts. Her center throbbed and tightened, ready to release. "Yes," she moaned. "Oh, God, yes."
Rick's heavy breaths filled the car as Michonne chased her pleasure. "Fuck," he groaned. His grip tightened on her hip as he fought his own climax. He knew he wouldn't be able to recover as quickly as she could, and he wanted to bury himself inside of her before he came. "Hurry," he pleaded. "Please come."
Michonne bucked against Rick wildly until finally…her release came. Her eyes closed and she released a scream of pleasure. "Ohhh!" Shaking, she fell forward into Rick's arms.
As she came down from her high, she noticed Rick's hardness still pressing against her center. He was holding her body tightly and moving almost imperceptibly against her, still seeking a little friction while she recovered.
"Let's move to the backseat," she whispered.
Rick sank into Michonne's wet heat slowly. She moaned as she took him to the hilt.
As the muscles between her thighs squeezed him, Rick breathed deeply and took a moment to look into Michonne's face. "You're so beautiful," he whispered. He leaned down and pulled her into a slow and gentle kiss.
While Michonne got lost in Rick's kiss, he started to thrust gently into her. The feeling of her tight walls and wet heat gripping him was sensational. He moaned. He wanted to stay inside of her forever. He was sure he could live here.
Rick moved his lips to Michonne's cheek and then her neck. He kissed beneath her ear again, causing her to whimper. The sound went straight to Rick's dick. His responding thrust pushed Michonne's body an inch along the backseat.
"I've never felt like this before," Rick whispered. He bit down on Michonne's neck as she elongated it as if she was displaying it to him for just that purpose.
"Like what?" Michonne asked.
He kissed his way to her lips again and then lifted his head to look into her eyes. "Like my life is just beginning."
Michonne felt a dangerous swooping sensation in her stomach. Had Michonne known Rick would suddenly transform into T.S. Eliot when inside of her, she never would have opened her legs to him. Or at least, she would have gagged him first. "Stop talking, Rick." She tightened her legs around him and began to control the pace of their thrusts from below. "Fuck me."
Rick buried himself to the hilt over and over again. The sound of skin slapping against skin, heavy breathing, and moans filled the night air.
Rick's strokes managed to hit every spot that promised to set Michonne ablaze from the inside out. It wasn't long before she could feel herself on the brink of another orgasm. "I'm getting close, Rick," she moaned.
"Yeah?" Rick asked. He sat up and took Michonne's hand. He guided it to her bud of pleasure. "Show me how you touched yourself when thinking of me earlier."
'Fuck,' Michonne thought, turned on by Rick's instruction. With hooded eyes, she began to rub her fingers against her clitoris as Rick thrust into her. Short, high-pitched moans left her lips as Rick stared down at her. He first watched her hand play against where they were joined and then his eyes rose to meet hers, arresting her in his intense gaze as they started to race toward the peak together.
"I'm coming, Rick."
Rick thrust into her harder and faster. His lips touched hers; their heavy breaths mingled as their coming together became less rhythmic and more uncontrolled. The feeling of Rick reaching every spot of pleasure within her coupled with the sounds of his grunts and moans spurred Michonne toward her climax.
"Rick!" She shattered on the cry of his name.
As he felt her walls tighten around him and her creams spill onto his member, Rick found his own orgasm spilling over. He thrust into her jerkily as he came.
"Mmmm!" A long moan left his lips as he drew her into another deep kiss. When the last of his seed spilled into the condom he was wearing, he moved down to nuzzle his face into her breasts. He sighed when he felt Michonne's hands come up to play in the curls at the nape of his neck.
He didn't want to move. He lifted his head and gave Michonne another slow, sensual kiss. They were still wrapped together. He was still inside of her. It felt right.
He pulled away and nestled into her breasts again. "...What are we?" He couldn't help but to ask.
Michonne's hands slowed, but she continued to stroke his hair.
"How does friends with benefits sound?" she asked.
Rick considered it, and then he spoke. "It sounds better than nothing."
The school parking lot became the meeting ground for their hookups. It was midway between both of their places, and they didn't have to worry about nosy neighbors peeking through the blinds of their windows and gossiping.
King County was a small town, and news about how the 7th grade Literature teacher and the sheriff were visiting each other late at night would be sure to travel verbally along the porches. Until it reached Carl's ears. Or someone else's. And Michonne didn't want to deal with that yet.
It was tight and clumsy, trying to maneuver in the small space. But that didn't impede Rick and Michonne's explorations of each other's bodies. If anything, it just made them more creative.
On the last day of the second week of December, Rick was spooning Michonne in the backseat and entering her vagina from behind while his fingers expertly strummed her clitoris. He didn't know what it was about that particular day, but after Michonne screamed his name and relaxed into his hold, he decided to ask her to his family Christmas party that his mom was making him be the host of the next week.
"No," Michonne answered immediately.
Rick sighed and held her closer against his chest. "Please," he said. "You won't have to stay long. But I need you there. I hate hosting. Without you, I'll be miserable."
"Your mother-in-law already thinks we're dating," Michonne said. "We don't need to fan those flames."
"Ex mother-in-law," Rick corrected. "And who cares? She's not even gonna be there."
He slid his hand down her stomach to nestle between her thighs - wet from the orgasm a minute past - yet again. Pressing his fingers against her sensitive bud, he whispered, "Please. You won't regret it."
"No," Michonne said again.
Rick held her pussy tight; Michonne began to move her hips against his rough palm.
"Please," Rick said again.
"...No," Michonne said weakly.
He inserted his fingers between her wet folds as he pressed the heel of his palm against her clitoris. Michonne undulated against him. She knew an orgasm would come soon because the one that had just passed had left her nerves oversensitive and vulnerable to another.
Rick held her tight against his torso and leaned forward to whisper in her ear. "Say yes."
Michonne did no such thing. She only increased the speed of her hips, greedily chasing another peak.
Rick started vibrating his hand against her clit. "Say yes," he said again.
Once more, he was ignored. Michonne's moans filled the interior of the car. He grasped her breast with the hand that wasn't pleasuring her down below and he growled into her ear one last time, "Say. Yes."
Michonne whimpered. She could feel herself breaking against the palm of his hand. "Fuck," she whispered. If Rick was having a family gathering, he'd probably be MIA for the day. At least she would be able to see him and possibly have this again if she went. "Yes," she finally said. Her orgasm rolled through her body, and her juices wet his fingers. "Fuck. Yes. Yes, Rick!"
She came down from her high as Rick placed a gentle kiss against her cheek. "I'll see you there. Thursday. Starts at five."
Michonne admired the Christmas decorations in Rick's front yard as she walked up the driveway. Warm Christmas lights outlined the roof and front windows. There were also two decorative reindeer lit up from the inside out with lights that brightened the dusky darkness. And when she passed the neatly trimmed bushes with lights interspersed throughout, she knew she needed to get her Christmas tree up. This was putting her to shame.
She balanced the plate of cookies she had brought in one hand and knocked on the door with the other.
"Hey," she said when Rick opened the door soon after her knock. "I brought cookies."
"They look great," Rick said with a warm smile. "Come on in."
Michonne took off her thick winter coat as she stepped inside, and she was immediately descended upon by people she didn't know.
"Hi! You must be Michonne!" A brunette woman with shoulder length hair said, holding her hand out for Michonne to shake. Michonne took her hand and smiled a greeting. Her eyes slid to the Asian man by the woman's side. He was looking at her with a wide smile as well. She could anticipate the man's words before he even said them because it was obvious from the two people's overly familiar greeting.
"We've heard a lot about you! I'm Glenn," the man said.
Rick was too busy admiring Michonne's short, white body-hugging dress to notice how her exasperated eyes were asking him just what exactly he had told them about her…about them.
Thankfully, there weren't too many people at the gathering - only a few family and friends. Michonne allowed Rick to put his hand on the small of her back and lead her through the room into the kitchen. Rick's mom and dad were there, and there was a man Michonne hadn't seen before. But his features were similar enough to Rick's that she surmised he must be a relative. "Why are y'all in the kitchen?" Rick asked his family. "You don't get to hide out when you're the ones who forced me to host this thing this year. Let's go."
Rick began to herd them out into the living room where the twenty or so other people were gathered. "Wait!" the man Michonne didn't recognize was saying, laughter in his voice. "You're not gonna introduce me to your girlfriend?"
"I'm not his girlfriend," Michonne said, but she wasn't sure if she was heard over the talking and commotion.
Rick placed a reassuring arm around her shoulders. "Jeff, this is Carl's Literature teacher, Michonne. Michonne, this is my younger brother, Jeff."
"Ohh!" Jeff said. "So this is the woman you're always talking about." Jeff politely pushed his way past his parents and held his hand out to Michonne. "Hi. Nice to meet you. Can you date my brother already so he can stop whining to me every other night?"
Rick gripped his brother by the shoulders and turned him around, pushing him into the living room. "Since you wanna run your mouth, you can entertain some of the nice folks we have here tonight," Rick was saying. "Look. There's Aunt Merrill; I hear she has a new pecan cake recipe she wants to share."
"No, brother, please!" Jeff playfully begged as he was pushed in the direction of a woman whose mouth was moving a mile a minute to the person beside her.
"Michonne…" Rick's mother turned to Michonne and grasped her hand. The intimate touch almost made Michonne jump out of her skin. "We didn't get a chance to talk to you much at Carl's birthday dinner. You left so fast. I would love to get to know you better."
Michonne forced a smile for the elderly woman. "Yeah," she said. "I'd like that too."
The whole night consisted of people Michonne didn't know coming up to her and acting like she was a close friend. "I've heard so much about you!" was the quote of the evening. When Michonne found a minute to herself, she made her way back to the kitchen to help herself to some of the eggnog that was sitting out on the decorated kitchen island.
"Hey," the woman who had greeted her at the door said as she grabbed some cookies and a small bottle of water. "You okay? You look overwhelmed."
Michonne chuckled. Was it that obvious? "Yeah," she said. "I'm sorry, what was your name again?"
"Maggie," the woman answered.
"Maggie," Michonne repeated, committing the name to memory. "I'm assuming you're a friend and not a Grimes."
Maggie laughed. "What gave it away?" she asked. "The fact that I'm not climbing the walls?" Their eyes went to Jeff who was having an animated conversation with a male cousin Michonne had been introduced to - she couldn't remember his name. They were wrestling; it was supposed to be pretend, but they were about to make a real mess if the jostled table behind them was anything to go by. Rick stepped in and pulled them apart before any real damage could be done.
"Pretty much," Michonne responded.
"Yeah, I met him through my husband, Glenn," Maggie said. She pointed at the Asian man Michonne had met earlier. "They work together." A moment passed where Maggie seemed to debate whether she should say something. "I'm happy to see you here," she finally said. "Rick talks about you a lot."
Michonne was exasperated. "Okay," she said, deciding to get to the bottom of it. "What exactly has Rick been saying about me? Because every time I meet somebody they say something along those lines." Michonne thought they had agreed to keep things discreet, but apparently Rick was shouting her name from the rooftops.
Maggie laughed. "I guess that's not somethin' you were expectin'," she said, reading Michonne's expression. "Yeah, Rick hasn't been very subtle about his interest in you. I don't think he can help it. Me and Glenn were out with him picking out that Christmas tree and he said, 'I wonder what kind of Christmas tree Michonne is puttin' up.'"
Michonne rolled her eyes. But she couldn't help but to feel warm inside. To know that she was on his mind that much was flattering…
"Well, he'd probably be disappointed to know that I went down to the nearest dollar store and got the first plastic Christmas tree I saw. Discounted."
Maggie laughed. "Are you not very big on Christmas?" she asked.
"No, I am," Michonne said. "The decorating and everything just seems like more of a hassle when you live alone." She blinked, realizing how sad that sounded.
"Well, if you want someone to come and help you put up a real Christmas tree, I'm sure Rick would run over," Maggie said. Michonne was grateful to her for moving smoothly past the moment. "Heck, he'd probably go to the middle of a pine forest and cut a tree down like a lumberjack if you asked him to."
Michonne chuckled. "That won't be necessary. I'll just stick with my little plastic tree. She's grown on me."
They moved to the couch to continue their conversation, and Michonne found that she enjoyed Maggie's company quite a bit. She had quite a few amusing stories about Rick to tell. She was telling a story about how they had tricked Rick into going to a strip club when the star of the story came over with a glass of whiskey in his hand.
"What are you two talking about?" he asked, a small smile on his face.
"I was just telling her about when you thought we were taking you out to karaoke, but we took you to that strip club instead."
Rick huffed a breath, obviously put-upon by the memory. "They ruined my night," Rick said to Michonne. "I had the whole Johnny Cash catalog up here-" he pointed to his head. "-and ready to go. But I ended up having to go on duty and bust up an illegal prostitution ring instead."
"Hey, how were we supposed to know what they were up to at that club?!" Maggie protested.
"We could have just gone to karaoke!" Rick argued back. "Y'all had me workin' on what was supposed to be a night off."
Michonne laughed at them bickering over what was obviously an argument that had been revisited time and time again.
Thankfully, they were all pulled to play a round of board games and then charades in front of the fireplace. Michonne found herself laughing and having fun. Especially when she beat a boasting Jeff in a game of Monopoly. Twice.
"How is she doing that?! I have Boardwalk and Park Place!" Jeff wailed, defeated.
Rick stole Michonne away after that, and she happily left him in the midst of his own ruin. "We're about to start opening presents," Rick said. "And I wanna give you yours in private."
"Ooh!" Michonne said, feeling tipsy off of eggnog. "Is it the kind of present that will put you on the naughty list?"
Rick chuckled and pulled her close. "I guess you'll just have to see, won't you," he teased. His breath fanned pleasantly against her ear.
By the time they reached Rick's bedroom, Michonne thought she knew what was about to happen. She had anticipated something like this, so she leaned in and immediately began to kiss Rick's neck when he closed the door behind them. She had been trying to avoid having sex in Rick's bedroom because she didn't want to get too comfortable but…she'd make an exception. She was in the holiday spirit.
Rick leaned down and met her lips with his, and he let his hand slide along her curves for a few arousing moments. But then he stopped them. "Wait," he said, pulling away. "I didn't bring you in here for this. I do have something for you. Wait here."
She waited.
Rick went to his closet to pull something from the top shelf. In the meantime, Michonne glanced around his room and appreciated how well-organized it was. There was a king-size bed with a gray duvet covering it. Mahogany nightstands stood on either side with lamps on top. A book rested atop one of the nightstands for night-time reading. Curious, Michonne walked over to look at what it was. It was War and Peace by Leo Tolstoy. She smiled, wondering if her recommendation of Anna Karenina had motivated him to try other books by the classic author.
"Here you are…" Rick said. Michonne turned around as he handed her a square-shaped box with a bow on top.
"I didn't get you anything…" Michonne confessed.
"That's okay," Rick said. "Seeing you is gift enough."
Michonne rolled her eyes good-naturedly at Rick's cheesy declaration.
She opened the lid of the box and froze.
"I wrote it myself," Rick said proudly, watching Michonne's face closely.
Inside the box was a hardcover children's book titled The Cutest Teacher. The cover art showed an illustration of Michonne holding a pointer and smiling with eyes closed. She took the book out of the box and flipped through to see more cute illustrations and block-letter text. He had written a children's book about her and had a copy of it published just for her.
Michonne's heart pounded in her chest. She couldn't do this. He was more than a friend. This was more than a crush.
Michonne stepped forward and kissed Rick on the lips. They swayed in each other's hold as their tongues shared a slow dance.
"Wait, wait, wait," Rick whispered. He went and grabbed the mistletoe hanging in his doorway. "I put this there knowing you were coming over," he said, grinning mischievously. He held it over their heads and snapped a picture as they puckered their lips for a kiss.
Michonne fell into Rick's arms and simply enjoyed being held against the warmth of his chest. "...I'll make sure to get you something special next year," she said.
Because there would be a next year. She was going to date this man.