A/N: Enjoy!

4. Happy Hour

Daryl fed Carl a spoonful of applesauce and said in a soft, gravelly voice, "Through the lips, and over the gums, look out stomach, here it comes!"

Carl, very much enjoying his favorite food with his favorite uncle, gurgled happily and kicked his little legs in his highchair. I wanted to capture the moment, but Daryl wasn't exactly thrilled that I'd popped up at his house out of the blue. He grunted at me when he opened his front door but hadn't said a word to me in the five minutes that I'd been there. He was in no mood to pose for pictures.

"What do you want?" he finally asked before gently wiping applesauce from Carl's chin and making a funny face at him.

"How about, 'Hi, 'Chonne, it's so good to see you! What an unexpected but pleasant surprise!'"

Daryl gave me an unimpressed look. "Nah. What do you want?"

I didn't care for his bad attitude, but I was relieved to see him looking so rested. Daryl's workload had nearly doubled over the last few months because of budget cuts and layoffs. Although Rick and I were always badgering him to take time off, he'd only recently decided to do so. He spent the first part of his weeklong vacation on a road trip with his motorcycle club and was spending the tailend of it with Nugget. I understood his annoyance with me for intruding on their time together. But in my defense, I never had an opportunity to discuss the Jessie-Lori fiasco with him before he went on vacation.

Rick and I were still seamlessly co-partnering Nugget, but the natural flow of our friendship now felt a little murky. Murky was uncharted territory for the two of us, and I didn't know what to do with how that felt. Without Nugget being the buffer between us over the weekend, I needed Daryl's perspective to help clear things up. I grabbed a bottle of water and a turkey sandwich from his refrigerator and sat on a stool at his kitchen island.

"You took some beautiful pictures on your road trip, D. You almost posted more on Instagram this week than Glenn did," I teased.

He grunted.

I bit into the sandwich and chewed slowly. He wasn't going to make this easy. I tried a different approach to get him talking.

"How are you feeling about returning to work on Monday?"

He grunted again.

I took another bite of the sandwich.

Daryl glanced at me, completely unimpressed.

"Spit out whatever you gotta say, Michonne. Everything else is wastin' my time right now," he grumbled.

Rude.

"You do realize that most people come back from their vacation relaxed and in a good mood, right? What's your problem, Daryl?"

"You and Rick are my problem," he replied testily. "And I'm still on vacation, so get to it."

I rolled my eyes. Rick dropped Carl off at Daryl's earlier, so I was certain Daryl already had some idea about what was going on. I finished the sandwich and took a sip of water before getting to it.

"Did Rick tell you he heard from Lori?"

"He did. Told me about Jessie too," he said, giving me a side eye.

"And?"

"And what?"

"And what do you think about all of it, Daryl?"

"I think I don't know if Maggie's a bad influence on you, if you're a bad influence on her, or if I've been missin' somethin'."

"Wait, what?" I asked, confused by his assessment.

I was planning on discussing Rick's behavior, not mine.

"But now I'm thinkin' I've been missin' somethin' all this time," he said. "Harassin' some chick because she's all hot and bothered for Rick? Really?"

"That's completely oversimplifying things," I argued.

Daryl gave me a look before giving Carl another spoonful of applesauce.

"I was protecting Rick," I argued.

"Did he ask you to protect him?"

I let my silence answer for me.

"Oversimplifyin' my ass," he grumbled.

"Language, Daryl," I grumbled back.

"What happened to Little Miss Always Has Her Shit Together? Because lately, when it comes to Rick, she's nowhere to be found."

"It's the hormones, and you know it. And Nugget's first word better not be 'ass' or 'shit,'" I warned, narrowing my eyes.

"That damn hormone card you keep playin' is expired, and you know it," he retorted. "And Lil Asskicker can handle big boy words."

I stifled a groan. I would love to debate over my hormones and big boy words, but there was a more pressing matter at hand.

"So you think I should have stayed out of it?" I asked.

"You know you should have stayed out of it," he said, feeding Carl the last of the applesauce. "You need to take a step back, Michonne. This is just like that time I was fightin' Merle."

I sighed in exasperation. "Are you seriously bringing up that fight?"

"I didn't ask for your help," he continued, "but you still jumped in. And what happened?"

"Unbelievable," I muttered under my breath. "How am I still being blamed twenty-something years later for your brother punching me in the breast?! He was literally kicking you while you were down, Daryl. And he was stealing my Nintendo!"

Merle was high out of his mind from huffing paint thinner that day. After I tried to push him away from Daryl, his left fist connected with my right breast. It hurt. A lot. But it gave Daryl an opening to knock Merle out and call the police. The day Merle was released from jail, he apologized to me for assaulting my "Nubian bosom." It was rare for him to apologize for anything, but if there was one thing Merle loved, it was bosoms. He genuinely regretted causing any harm to mine once he found out what he'd done.

Causing harm to his brother and stealing my Nintendo, however, fell into a different category. Apologies were not doled out for those offenses.

"It was my fight to win or lose," Daryl grumbled.

"You could've ended up in the hospital with more than just the bruised ribs, Daryl."

"But it was my fight to win or lose."

Daryl had been making the same argument for twenty years, and I always had the same response. "It was worth it," I said, shrugging. "I'd take the same punch for you today if it meant—"

"And that's your problem," Daryl interjected. "Sacrificing for us is always worth it to you, even when it's unnecessary."

What Daryl saw as a sacrifice on my part, I saw as loyalty, as love. If taking one of Merle's punches meant there was one less blow to Daryl, then the punch was worth it. If I had to choose between possibly letting my family sink or definitely helping them swim, I'd always choose to help them swim.

"And what exactly am I sacrificing because of Rick?" I asked.

He snorted and rolled his eyes.

I stared at him, waiting for him to give me a concrete example.

"'Chonne, you've always been smart, right?"

"Right," I agreed.

"You like to think things through? Weigh your options?"

"I do."

"You try to be reasonable?"

"Obviously."

"But you threatened some chick because she has a crush on Rick. I think we can both agree you sacrificed a few things doing that, can't we?"

I rolled my eyes.

"Of course you'd take Rick's side on this," I complained.

"It's not about sides. It's about Rick fightin' his own battles and makin' his own decisions," he said, picking Carl up. "Ain't that right?" he asked Carl. "Your daddy has to make his own decisions, doesn't he?"

Carl grabbed Daryl's chin and giggled.

"Gotta let him stand on his own, find his own way. And if he crashes and burns? That's ok. He's Rick Grimes. He'll figure it out."

Doubts of Rick's ability to stand on his own swirled through my mind. He had never spent a day of his adult life flying solo.

"You don't always have to jump in to save us, Michonne. You gave this little guy to Rick. You helped him through one of the darkest moments of his life. Take a step back. Let him get his shit together."

"Language," I huffed. "So I should say nothing and do nothing while he makes bad decision after bad decision?"

"I'm not sayin' that at all, but like I've told you before, to support him and to save him are two different things. Let him save himself. That's what's best for him, best for Carl and best for you."

Carl squealed loudly while reaching for his bottle on the highchair tray. Daryl picked it up.

"Now, do you mind? Lil Asskicker and I have plans," he deadpanned, effectively ending our conversation.

I would reflect on Daryl's words later because there was probably some merit in what he'd said. I couldn't determine what that merit was at the moment because of how rude and dismissive Daryl was being, but I'd figure it out. I watched him give Nugget his bottle and couldn't help but feel a little sentimental. Rick, Gleggie and I were all so fortunate to have Daryl in our lives. He truly was an incredible person full of so much insight, and wisdom, and empathy and—

"Take your giant hole and leave, woman!"

I sighed. He was full of something else sometimes too. I hopped off the stool and walked over to him, rolling my eyes as he handed Carl to me.

"Have fun, Nugget," I whispered, looking into his baby blues that so closely mirrored his dad's. "And try not to listen to Uncle Crazy too much, ok?"

I smiled when he bobbled his head in what I took as a sign of agreement. I kissed his chubby cheeks before handing him back to Daryl.

"See ya, D," I said, giving him a hug goodbye.

"Hey, it is good to see you," he told me, kissing the side of my forehead. "Even if you pop up just to cry about Rick and eat the last of my damn turkey sandwich."

"I know it's good to see me," I sassed. I stuck my tongue out at him for good measure. "And I wasn't crying over Rick. And language!"

"Uh huh. But Rick was over here cryin' about you too, so you both are on the same dysfunctional page. And 'damn' ain't a bad word."

I rolled my eyes at everything he said and picked up the purse I'd set on the kitchen island.

"Here, take a selfie with Nugget," I ordered, handing him my phone.

While he was unlocking my phone, I dug through my purse to find my car keys.

"Hey, 'Chonne," Daryl called out in a suspiciously singsongy voice.

"Yeah?" I asked warily, looking up at him.

He was holding my phone up.

"Who's Mike?"

Three days ago...

I sat at my desk clicking my pen and staring out the window. Rick and I had been cordial the past few days, but neither of us was quite sure how to move past our very heated conversation. I struggled to understand Rick's blind devotion to Lori. It was understandable the first few months after she left, but we were almost a year out. Would he spend years, decades, the rest of his life defending his ghost of a wife and waiting for her to reappear?

I played a part in my frustration, and I owned that. I'd mentally forced Lori out of the Grimes family picture by assuming Gleggie, Daryl, Rick and I would always function as a well-oiled machine that took care of Carl. I didn't factor in anything that could affect our performance, but we couldn't function like this forever. Gleggie would undoubtedly want to start a family at some point; Daryl enjoyed the freedom of the road on his bike; Rick's impaired judgment was eventually going to be a liability; and Lori, in theory, could return.

"You keep frowning like that and your face will freeze that way," a deep voice commented. "Your face is much too lovely for that."

I looked up to find Mike Anthony standing in my doorway. He joined the firm a few months ago but was quickly becoming a standout environmental law attorney. I simultaneously fought an eye roll and held back a smile at the ridiculous thing he just said.

"If it isn't Mike Anthony, the man with two first names," I teased, pushing aside my thoughts of Rick.

Mike laughed out loud, and I couldn't help but to smile.

"There's that smile," he said, grinning.

I couldn't stop my smile from growing bigger. "How can I help you, Mike?"

Since I worked in contract law, our paths didn't normally cross. I couldn't fathom what brought him to my office.

"Have dinner with me."

Oh.

Oh!

"Mike," I said, starting to decline his invitation.

"Before you shoot me down and inflict damage to my fragile ego, keep in mind that it's just dinner with a fellow attorney on a Tuesday evening…"

I looked Mike up and down. I definitely could use a distraction after all of the recent drama. Getting to know a fellow attorney over dinner seemed like a good distraction. Rick didn't leave for work until nine, so I had more than enough time to spend time with Mike before getting to the house.

"How about we start with drinks," I suggested. "Happy hour across the street?"

"Sounds delightful," he replied, grinning again. "I'll swing by your office to pick you up around 6?"

"I'll see you then."

"And there's that smile..."

"Who's Mike?" Daryl asked again.

"A coworker," I answered.

Daryl stared at me.

"A friend," I amended.

Daryl continued staring.

"A coworker friend," I sputtered.

"Oh yeah? Well your coworker friend just sent you a text letting you know he found your panties. And he sent a picture of the panties," Daryl grumbled, sizing me up.

Daryl and I had known each other long enough for me to only be minimally mortified by this conversation. I was mostly just relieved that Mike had found my panties.

"You're going through my phone now?" I asked combatively. "That's a total violation of my privacy."

"Stop. The text came in when I was tryin' to take the selfie you asked for. And do you really want to get into a conversation about violating someone's privacy? I can call Rick. I'm sure he'd have plenty to say about that."

Rick and Daryl were notorious gossipers. Daryl and I both knew he was going to call Rick regardless. He'd probably also call Glenn, although Glenn probably already knew about Mike through Maggie since I called her the night I lost my panties.

A small smirk formed on Daryl's face as he handed my phone to me.

Shit.

I knew what was coming.

"We're meeting him, 'Chonne."

"No, you're not," I replied, taking my phone from him and heading for the front door. "You're not!" I said again as I opened the door and made my escape.

"Yes, Michonne, we are!" Daryl shouted after I closed the door behind me.

A/N: Thank you for reading! Please take the time to leave a review. It's appreciated!