A/N: I swear, about 10 years ago someone asked me for my take on Richonne's first night together had Jesus not interrupted them. Here it is.

She stared up at the ceiling in a state of shock. Her breathing had just calmed down and there was still a thin sheen of sweat covering her body. She just had sex. That was shocking enough because it had been a while, but who she had it with is what shook her to her core — she had sex with Rick. It's not like she hadn't thought about sex or wanted it since losing Mike. It was easy to forget about sex while on the road with a weary and battered body and not to mention a violently empty stomach. Sizing up the different men and wondering 'what if' was natural once they made a life at the prison and once again here in Alexandria. While she thought a few men were doable when it came to sex, only one was a possibility when it came to needing more. Because she was someone who always needed more than the physical. And here he was lying next to her.

He was on his back, face toward her with his eyes closed. It gave her an opportunity to stare at him by the light of the oil lamp and the vanilla scented candle by the bed that did little to overpower the pungent odor of their sex. She couldn't help but take in his body as the sheet lay just above his hips. His body was lean. That wasn't a revelation, but this was a new view. This time her eyes could linger to fully appreciate his body. She noticed him when they were out on the road when he would change his shirt. Sneaking glances at him as much as she could without being obvious. Then there was the time she changed his bandages when they were in that house after the prison fell.

Today changed everything. One moment they were telling each other about their day like they always did; that was something she came to enjoy. But this evening it was a bit different. Neither was as talkative. Her silence due to a particularly emotional day with helping Spencer bury his mother and the less draining, but equally overwhelming, moment with Carl when he told her, in his shy teenage way, that he loved her. By the time she sat on the couch with Rick her emotions were raw and her heart open to receive love and affection. It was like lightning struck when they held hands and stared into each other's eyes.

She began to replay the more intimate events of the night. Like the way he easily positioned her body for his access and pleasure, both on the couch and in the bedroom. How good his body felt next to her body. His chest against hers. Her hands on his back. His hands squeezing her ass. His lips attached to her breasts and his beard tickling her inner thighs as she ran her fingers through his hair. She had the sounds of his erotic moans on repeat. The sex was erotic, wild, intense, fun, and sweet. In bed they ran the gamut with an ease she didn't think possible with a new lover, even if they were already friends who saved each other's lives.

"Are you okay?"

The sound of his voice brought her back to the moment. When she scanned his body back up to his face he was staring at her with a raised eyebrow. She held the sheet tighter against her body, suddenly becoming shy and covering what he had not too long ago eagerly discovered with his hands and mouth. "I don't know how to answer that at the moment. I don't even know what to say. How to feel."

This was Rick, her friend, and while she thought friendship was the best precursor to a relationship there was a nervousness that rattled her bones.

"Well, I think we know how we feel." He placed his arm behind his head and somehow managed to get sexier. "Not sure what needs to be said."

In the span of seconds she recognized the damage that silence could cause. She shook her head firmly. "No. That's a recipe for disaster."

Because the truth was, she didn't know how he felt. She knew what she thought he felt, maybe even what he should feel. But she definitely didn't know what he felt. That had been proven to her in a most painful way. This, whatever is was or could be, couldn't be based on assumptions.

He rolled on his side and smiled, propping his head up against his hand. "What? You want to share your feelings?" He placed his other hand on her thigh, managing to tell a joke while running his thumb back and forth stirring feelings she thought had been satiated earlier that evening.

"Is that going to be a problem for you?" She was almost regretting what they did even though she wanted it to happen. Sometimes you desired things and once you got them you didn't know what to do with them, how to cope with getting what you wanted. Would that be the case this time? She placed her hand over his, stilling his thumb.

"It's been known to be," he said. "But I guess it depends on how much a person understands without needing to hear it."

She frowned. "How can you know what a person doesn't tell you?"

"By knowing them. Believing in them. Trusting them." He shrugged. "You just...know."

"Rick," she said as she stared in his eyes. With a gentle shake of her head she added, "you have to communicate."

He broke their eye contact. "Communicate?"

"I think that's pretty important. Things left unsaid have a way of becoming pretty loud."

"Says the person who barely spoke two words when she arrived at the prison." He smiled, proud of his example.

"You're comparing being outnumbered by strangers ready to kill me to this moment?"

His smiled faded and he appeared determined to be serious as he sat up with his back against the headboard. "You've trusted me in life or death situations without me uttering a single word," he said.

"The situations aren't remotely the same. It takes a lot of words and work to get to the place you think we are." She shook her head and climbed out of bed. "We might be in different places and if we are, the distance would only grow."

She turned to face him. "I want to get to that place. I do. I know you want some idyllic 'nothing needs to be said it was meant to be' thing but I'm a lot more pragmatic than that."

She went into the bathroom and shut the door, then stared at herself in the mirror. She wasn't certain she wanted to have this conversation so soon after sex. Her thoughts were muddled. It wasn't possible to see things clearly in this moment, was it? But she started the unfiltered truth and they might as well finish it before falling asleep or into each other's arms again. When she came out he was in a pair of boxers sitting on the edge of the bed.

He looked in her direction. "You know, I'm glad it's you," he said.

"Are you?" She began walking toward him.

"Yeah, I mean who else?" He smiled.

She stopped walking. "What's that supposed to mean? Because Maggie and Rosita are taken, Sasha is damaged and-"

"No, I didn't mean it like that." He reached out his hand for her and though she made no effort to go to him it remained outstretched and he spoke again. "I meant we're...we have a connection that's undeniable, me and you. When I walk in this house it's home. It feels so right. So natural. It wouldn't be that way with anyone else."

A small smile appeared on her face. "I must admit I enjoy being the ringleader of this small but wild circus of guns, teenage mood swings, and sippy cups."

He laughed softly. "That's your thing?"

"It is." She sat next to him on the bed. Both of them looking out the bedroom window into nothing but darkness.

After Carl came home from the infirmary, she spent more time at home. She and Rick coordinated their schedules so someone was always home for Carl while he recovered. That meant even more time with Judith as well. They slipped into a comfortable domestic life without thinking about it. They were a defacto family of four in almost every way.

"I feel like it would be disrespectful to say let's see where this goes. I want this, that is, if you want this," he said.

She could see him out of the corner of her eye staring at her. She turned to look at him. He was bashful and uncertain. She wanted to challenge his belief that this was what he wanted and his belief they knew how the other felt. Because if so, why was he unsure at this moment? Why was he holding his breath?

"I mean, whether you want it or not I want this, but it's up to you. And we'll talk, as much as you want. About anything."

She shook her head with a sigh. "I don't mean talking about the weather and supply runs."

"I know that." He nodded. "But we already do talk. Real talk. Honest talk. Can't you see that?"

"The honesty required of friends is not as deep as what's-"

"Michonne, this isn't just friendship. Hasn't been for a long time. We're family. We've stared death in the face and came out on top. I trust you more than I've ever trusted anyone in my life just like my partner back home."

She watched as he abruptly became quiet and held his head down. She could see his mind running. Being reminded of something. Processing that the one he trusted most, betrayed him the worst.

"I'm not trying to get you to talk 24/7. I just know there are things that need to be discussed before we jump into this because I want this too. I just wasn't sure this was a possibility," she said softly.

"Not something I saw happening either."

His off-handed remark felt like a punch to the gut. "Guess that's why what happened with Jessie happened."

"What?" He looked over at her.

Her statement sucked the air out of the room for him and it became eerily quiet as they were both probably contemplating what to say next. While the topic of his strange interest in another woman may have been better discussed before they slept together and tried to make a go of it, she was glad they were having it in the dark.

"I didn't say it was something I couldn't see happening. I said I didn't know if it was possible. You never saw me. I thought you did. I was sure of it," she said as she frowned and shook her head in confusion. "And then..."

"I screwed up. I did. But I saw you."

"I don't know. Maybe you simply saw a valuable asset. Someone who could hold her own. Protect your kid and later, a friend."

"Don't. I never saw you as something so simple. So cut and dry. So detached. Like some tool. We're better than that."

She thought they were. "I like to think so. Then what?"

"I guess..." He shrugged. "You never said anything. Time kept passing and we kept moving. Things kept happening."

Was she allowed to feel betrayed by a man who wasn't hers? Even if she wasn't, that's how she felt. No use denying it.

"I hate to admit this but I was hurt seeing you chase her."

"I didn't chase her." He became defensive.

"Maybe I didn't have the right to be hurt." She stopped herself. "Actually, I take that back. I did have the right because we never needed words before, like you said, and the fact that there were no words tonight, on that couch, proves it."

"I waited. Thinking it wasn't the time. Wasn't the place. Wasn't how it should be done. On the road and unsure of what was next in a way that was too chaotic even for this world."

"But you thought about it? Me? Us?"

"Yes."

"I don't really know what to say. If this is going to be something worth mentioning in the light of day, if this is something we want, it can't happen without me being honest about my feelings. And I need to know yours and out of your mouth because I thought I knew who you were and what you wanted but I was wrong."

"You weren't wrong."

"If I wasn't wrong then why her? Why was everything you were contemplating when we were out there when it wasn't the right time or place, tossed aside and forgotten when we got here and you saw her?"

"There's been a lot of reflection the past couple of months. Not knowing if I'd lose Carl and him pulling through in a strange way gave me more hope than I've ever had. And that hope made me see I needed something real. That what we were fighting for couldn't be shallow. Had to be worth dying for. All I can say about that time is that it's hard to defend a person you no longer are." He glanced at her. "I hated that guy. Running around scaring people. I can't defend those actions back then. You probably want something deep, something that explains it, but there's nothing. I agree with you. I was an asshole."

"The last thing I want you to do is defend it. I want to know why. Why you wanted a stranger when I was right here."

"It wasn't about wanting someone other than you or choosing someone over you. It was about me."

"I don't understand."

He started pacing the room. "When we got here everyone was ready to forget." He frowned. "I can still see the look on your face back at that church when Abraham talked about setting the world right. And then when Aaron found us." He shook his head slightly. "Not me. I was still so deep in it. In the fight...it's like I needed it. Since the prison, everyone we came across were organized and brutal. That's what I saw here. We were alive because of the fight and I wasn't ready to let it go and with her I didn't have to. Teaching her what it was like out there was like still being out there."

She had told him about that fight and what it could do to him if he didn't let it go. She thought it would take him under like a riptide. She never thought it would cause him to chase a married woman or undermine his own leadership.

"So this attraction you had for her-"

"I'm not even sure it was about her. She could have been almost anyone. She wasn't out there. Teaching people to fight kept me," he stopped and signed."I don't know. I felt like I was one step ahead of everyone and everything that could hurt us." He sat back down on the bed near her. "I'm sorry I hurt you. I'm sorry you saw it as anything to do with you."

He placed his hand on her thigh and gave it a squeeze. "What are you thinking?"

"This scares me. Scares the shit out of me."

"What?"

"How much I just want to fall madly deeply."

"Sounds good to me."

"This may have just happened but the way I trusted you happened a long time ago. And that trust is why I opened myself up to you and how this was possible. I don't do that to just anyone."

"Why me?"

She turned her head and looked at him. "I respect you. What you were doing and why. And it made you so beautiful to me. In this world it's so easy to go to the dark side and you were focused on keeping people alive and being a family not being a power hungry asshole." She smiled. "You had your moments," she said with a laugh. "Scared me that this world may have gotten the better of you for a bit but you came back."

He nodded. "With your help."

He could tell she thought he was still asleep when she sat on the side of the bed, but when her back was to him, bare, lean, and so alluring he wanted to reach out and touch, all he could do was watch her. He was unsure what drained them more — the sex or the conversation. She held her head down in her hands and let out a small sigh.

He caused her pain and it didn't matter that he was out of his mind at the time; that didn't make her pain any less. It didn't ease it. He wasn't thinking about anyone else back then, only his selfish need to hold onto what was outside those walls. That and keeping them safe. He had to own it and then figure out how to move forward because he tended to sit with his feeling, especially the guilt, for too long. He didn't want those negative feelings to taint what could be a wonderful future he never imagined he could have. Never thought he deserved to have.

During his time of reflection during the last couple of months, he felt like an ass for his obsession to protect Jesse but he was never called on it. As weeks and then months went by, he figured there would never be a reckoning. The Anderson family was gone so he didn't feel he had anyone to apologize to but in all that time of reflection he forgot about his family, particularly Michonne and Carl. In his mind back then, they didn't need him. They could fight and knew the dangers the new world presented.

Just as he reached out to touch Michonne's back she stood up and walked to the bathroom, closing the door behind her. He didn't join her in the shower, that was how she wanted it. Nothing like a locked door to deliver a definitive message. He felt a dejection he hadn't felt since Lori after they lost the farm. Not in this way. That direct assault on his heart that only a woman could inflict on a man she's seen at his most vulnerable.

Michonne said she wanted to get downstairs before Carl. Carl. He wasn't sure how to tell him. He had already been through so much, how would yet another change affect him? Did he want to see his father with someone else? He ran his hand through his hair. Maybe he was getting ahead of himself. He still wasn't sure there would be a relationship to tell his son. They said so much but they were both eager for more of each other and the sex seemed to get better with each go-round so things still felt so unsettled when it came to what would happen next. One thing he knew for sure, she wouldn't allow him to make a habit of disappointing her.

At first, after the way she spoke about that...thing with Jessie he was sure she was willing to make last night a one time event. He never knew while he was running around Alexandria out of his mind that he almost ruined his chance before he realized it existed. He almost killed a relationship before it started. And if she wasn't so amazing, maybe even lost a friend.

As he made his way downstairs he could hear his daughter before he saw her. She was sitting in her highchair while Carl set the table for breakfast. He stood out of sight and watched them. There was Michonne, correcting Carl on the proper order of the flatware, something they never concerned themselves with in their family. That she took the time to give him something so normal when most people were simply happy with having food, that she took care to nurture and connect with him in a way beyond survival touched his heart. It always had. She gave him something no one else could, definitely him.

Judith squealed when she spotted him.

Carl looked in the direction she was pointing and smiling. "Morning, dad," he said.

He could see Michonne's back stiffen. Her arm froze in mid-air for a split second before returning to her duties at the stove.

"Good morning," he said as he joined them. "Something smells good." He stood behind Judith and kissed the top of her head.

"Michonne is making home fries," Carl said.

It still warmed his heart when his son accepted his displays of affection, smiling as Rick kissed the top of his head as well.

"Need some help with anything?" He stood near the kitchen.

"No," Michonne said.

To anyone else, that was an innocuous response. To Rick, in his exposed state of not knowing what was next after last night, it felt like rejection. He sat at the table and watched Michonne bring the food to the table. She sat on one side of Judith with Carl on the other. They took turns feeding her oatmeal and Rick was left to eat listening to Carl and Michonne's conversations about everything from scarce pantry to Carl trying to convince Michonne to take him out driving. Rick thought teaching his son to drive would be a breeze considering the roads were empty, but after two lessons Carl refused to keep going out with his father and Rick wasn't too upset about that.

He felt like an outsider in his own home. This was probably how it was when they first arrived but his mind was too preoccupied to realize it until now.

"Great breakfast, Michonne. Thanks. I think I'll go for a walk it off," Carl said as he took his plate and glass to the sink.

"Okay."

Rick could tell she wanted to say more, but there were no warnings to give. He wasn't going across town. There was no stranger danger or traffic. Just a few blocks of friends and family looking out for each other. But also, at the end of the day, it was a bit patronizing to treat Carl less than the man he had grown to be. He knew how to handle himself in this world.

As Carl walked out the door, Michonne stood. He watched her as she stacked Judith's bowl on plate stopping to kiss the top of Judith's head as the little one reached out for her as she made her. way to the kitchen.

"A walk after breakfast," Rick said with a laugh. "I guess that has nothing to do with all the time he's been spending with Enid."

"They're good for each other."

"Yeah, I just don't want them playing house. That can get confusing."

She turned and looked at him.

"What?"

"I feel like we've made this a home, a family, whether we meant to or not. And correct me if I'm wrong, but it feels good." She turned her back to him and focused on the dishes.

He walked up behind her and placed his hands on her hips then held his breath, praying she wouldn't walk out of his arms, away from his touch. "You're not wrong," he whispered as he kissed her bare shoulder. There was an ease with which they interacted with each other. Familiar. Familial. It felt more than good; it felt amazing. Better than anything he had felt in a long time.

Judith whined a bit and Michonne slid out of his arms and over to her, touching her cheek, making her smile.

"You're good with her." He joined them.

With a gentle smile on her face, she stared at Judith. "She's amazing. I love everything about her. The way she waves at everyone. The way she loves to be held. I could swear she holds me tighter when I hug her." Her smiled disappeared and she looked at him. "I saw how you looked at me when you saw me with Carl and Judith. I don't want you to be with me because you love how I love your kids."

He shook his head with a smile. "The kids weren't on my mind last night." He gave her a look that rendered them both silent.

And now he was thinking about last night. Maybe she was doing the same thing. It was hard to not drift off into memories of a connection that made him feel alive.

"That's not why, but your feelings about them do matter."

He placed his hand over hers.

"You became the valuable asset when you saved my son back in King County. You became my friend when things settled down at the prison. After the prison fell, when you found me and Carl, I know I said he needed you, but what I didn't say was that I needed you too." He looked down briefly but made the effort to look her in her eyes at this moment. "I was dying waiting to see what you would say. Do you remember what you said? That you were done taking breaks."

"Yes."

"You were and so am I. Done taking breaks from life other than fighting. Done putting living on hold. Done not focusing on what I want for me. You're what I want. Beyond this place. I want you and me. Us. Together."

"Rick Grimes is going to be selfish?"

"I think I've earned it." He smiled. "This is like something I've never felt before."

She laughed as she stared at Judith. "New car smell."

He stared at her until the silence became too loud for her to ignore and she looked at him.

"You don't believe that. It's new, yes, but it's different."

He wasn't that sure how they got to where they were last night but he was thankful they made it. There had always been a bond, first in her relationship with Carl and then part of the larger group. She always meant more to him than he knew until finally he realized. Maybe last night they finally acted on something they subconsciously felt for a long time. He was thrilled when he stared in her eyes last night and saw that she was on the cliff's edge just as he was. Nervous but excited. Eager but apprehensive.

He didn't want to overstate things, and now he was feeling a bit vulnerable after her joke, but this had the potential to be epic. Already, he knew that. Because they were such equals. No one called him out like her. Made him check himself like her. Demanded he be a better version of himself that he didn't know existed. And he was equally confident he was that for her. The person who made her want to be better. Required she change her ways. He and Lori weren't equals before the world went to shit and they surely weren't after the world fell apart.

Michonne didn't need him, at least not to survive. He hoped somewhere in her life she needed him. A man wanted to feel needed; needed to feel needed. In her, he met his match and he was up for it. Thrilled by it. He thought he made it clear he was all in, that he wanted to be with her. She didn't seem to be quite as definitive in her comments before they fell asleep from pure physical exhaustion. The ball was in her court. Decidedly so.

She stood and walked over to the kitchen counter. He followed, not letting her think. He wanted her to feel, to lead with her heart.

He pulled her flush against him. "Michonne. Tell me you know."

"Know what?" She looked into his eyes.

"That this is different. It's real." He leaned in closer until his forehead touched hers.

"It is," she whispered.

He gently placed his hand on her cheek. His other hand lay on her lower back then he kissed her. Soft and slow at first, nibbling on lips he instantly fell in love with last night at first touch. He was so focused on her, even with closed eyes, he knew the moment she relaxed as her body deflated against him. He moaned at the feel of her tongue sliding between his lips. Her hands lay on his chest. His hand slid down and he squeezed her butt. Moaning at the sound of her moan, he wanted more but the sound of the door opening broke their quiet bonding.

They quickly pulled apart, but not quick enough by the shocked and amused look on Carl's face. He was at the door, frozen for a moment before continuing.

He glanced at Michonne to see her brushing away invisible crumbs off the counter top as she avoided eye contact. His heart was pounding loud enough he wondered if everyone could hear it. They were caught.

Rick cleared his throat. "Hey."

"Really?" Carl smiled with a shake of his head as he closed the door.

"What?" Rick ran his hand through his hair.

"We're not going to pretend I didn't see what I definitely saw, are we?" Carl smirked.

Rick and Michonne exchanged looks seeming to silently acknowledge they were caught and not to treat Carl like a child.

"That's not how we wanted you to find out," she said.

"It just happened," Rick said. "Last night. We weren't hiding anything from you. It just happened."

"It? Nice to know dad. I'll have to mark it on my calendar." Carl laughed at their discomfort. "I have a feeling if you had a year you still couldn't come up with the best way to tell me." He walked over and grabbed Judith. "I don't need a conversation. If you're happy, I'm happy."

"You're okay with it?" Rick asked.

"Why wouldn't I be?"

"We just want you to know that nothing will change," Rick said.

Carl shrugged. "It's cool, dad. Enid wants to see Judith. We'll see you later. Say bye-bye, Judith."

She waved, looking over his shoulder as he carried her out the door.

Once they were alone Rick reached out and took her hand. He smiled, she returned it but with the shyness that hark back to the previous night on the couch.

"Where do we go from here?" She asked.

"Wherever," he said. "Together."

She smiled and nodded as he led her upstairs.

If you liked FOX's Pitch, be on the look out. I enjoyed watching each week. That Bawson ship is definitely up my alley. Sports and endless potential.