- New multi-chapter fic. AU. No zombies. I will also be working on an apocalyptic multi-chapter fic at the same time as I'm working on this one because I couldn't decide if I wanted to do non-zombie or apocalypse more. So I decided on both! Hope you guys enjoy! Rating for future smuttiness. -

Chapter One: Sometimes I Wonder if you Even Care About us at All

Lori, a willowy woman with long brown hair, was not in a good mood. It was starting to become an everyday thing, and Rick was wondering what it was he could have done to put the frown on her face this time. He fixed his gun belt around his middle and glanced at her as she finished replacing clean dishes. The unnecessary bang of the drawers and the frequent sighs made it clear that she had something on her mind.

Their clean, familiar kitchen bristled with an uncomfortable air.

Wanting to smooth over any friction before he started his day, Rick stepped forward and wrapped his arm around his wife's waist. And for a moment things felt right again. She relaxed against his chest and paused in her chores.

Rick placed a kiss on the top of Lori's head, inhaling her scent as he did so. "I love you, Lori," he whispered.

Her hand landed soft against his and she exhaled. "I love you too..." she answered softly.

The ticking of the clock tocked out a soft rhythm that started and ended with the minute hand at twelve, recording the moment.

"I'm sorry I'm not here as much as you want me to be," Rick said. "But I love you and Carl." He didn't know how she could even entertain the thought that anything was of more importance to him than her and his son. "You know that."

"I know..." Lori admitted. A shaky breath was drawn between her lips. "I just wish...I don't know. Sometimes it feels like...we're just another duty at the office for you."

Rick stiffened. "What does that mean?" he asked.

"Nothing, Rick," Lori said with a sigh, beginning to resume her chores. "We'll talk about it later; go to work."

"No." Rick stepped back and allowed Lori to maneuver around him. "What do you mean by that?"

Lori gave a small shake of her head, that same scent that Rick savored earlier coming to him as a faint trace of what it was before.

Lori didn't want to fight, but she knew the button had been pushed. Whatever button that was. She wished she could go back and change whatever she had said to create the tension again. She wished she could go back and just wish him a good day with his arm around her middle. But it was too late now. She couldn't go back. Neither one of them would allow it. She stopped and faced Rick. His electric blue eyes and his innocently rugged face. "I mean that you put your job on the same level as your family, Rick." Her eyes landed on his and then glanced away to focus on a point over his shoulder. She gave a tiny shake of her head again. "Maybe even moreso. I don't know..."

The statement drifted away. She wanted to go back. But it was too late.

"My job is important, Lori," Rick stated in his raspy voice. His broken, raspy voice.

He was hurt.

Lori looked down and fiddled with the rag in her hands. She hated when he was hurt. She hated that tone in his voice. She hated knowing she put it there. She hated feeling like a bitch.

"But not as important as you or Carl," Rick continued. "You two...are my life. I don't understand why you would feel like that."

Lori shook her head again. She wanted to go back. But the only way she could go was forward. "You barely spend any time with us, Rick," Lori said, looking back up at him. Facing his gaze. Facing the hurt and the pain. She had to face it because she spoke what she knew to be true. It wasn't fair that he made her feel like the bully when she felt just as hurt as he did. "It's always you going out to solve this problem or that problem, working overtime-"

"I'm providing for this family-"

"Yesterday-"

"Everything I do is for you and Carl-"

"Yesterday it was just me and Carl in the house and I forgot-"

"I can't apologize for that-"

"It was just me and Carl and I forgot that I was waiting for you to come home!" Lori raised her voice to speak over Rick. Tears clung to her lashes. "I was thinking how normal it felt for it to be just the two of us. And I forgot that I was even waiting for you to come home."

That pain entered Rick's eyes again. Maybe it never went away. He broke the gaze.

Lori put a trembling hand to her lips. She stared at Rick. Waiting for him to react. To say something. Anything. She wondered if she had hurt him too much this time.

She wanted to go back.

"...I love you, Lori," Rick said, still not looking at her. "I love Carl. I don't know what else to tell you." He shifted on his feet. There was a silence.

"...I'll be back in time for dinner tonight."

Rick left the house. The tears that had been clinging to Lori's lashes slid down her cheeks. He was gone. Again.

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There was a slightly dank and musky smell permeating throughout the small room that the dark skinned woman with dreadlocks sat in. Only a desk and chair, which the woman currently occupied, sat in the middle of the room – the rest of it was bare. There was a short hallway leading from the room. Off of the hallway was an entryway and at the end of the hallway was a bathroom. A box of miscellaneous items sat at the woman's feet. Office items. Items of an older time.

A nameplate with the embedding 'Michonne R.' faced upwards in the box. The framed photo of a handsome black man and a small boy around three years old lay beside it.

Michonne tapped her fingers against the surface of the old wooden desk she sat behind. She was lost in thought. As it was now, the office wasn't much to look at. Neither was the town for that matter. 'King's County,' Michonne thought derisively. 'Right. What king would live in a county like this?' Michonne closed her eyes and sighed.

That didn't matter though. What mattered was what she came here to do.

She opened her eyes and imagined the place as it would be in a couple of weeks. Entirely new. Entirely made over. Entirely hers.

The sharp ringtone of a cellular phone cut through the silence and Michonne answered it. "Hello?" Her voice was full and deep. A voice that had the potential of wielding both softness and an edge. It depended on who she was speaking to and what the topic was.

"Have you made it there yet?"

Michonne smiled at the sound of Andrea's voice on the other end of her cell phone line. "Yes," Michonne sighed. "I'm here." Andrea was an annoying, blonde friend of hers. And Michonne loved her. She never had to guess what the other woman was thinking because she would make sure that it was known to everyone, and in a way that was as blunt as possible. Which she proved in her next sentence.

"I still think you're an idiot for doing this, Mich," Andrea said. "Just come back and beg your father to reinstate your position at the firm-"

"I'm not begging that man for anything," Michonne stated. That edge in her voice coming out.

Andrea's sigh came through the receiver. "Mich..." her voice held a note of worry. "Are you sure you want to do this?"

Michonne's eyes landed on the picture of her family. "...Positive..." she affirmed.

"...This is crazy, Mich..."

"Maybe...but who says I'm sane anymore?" There was a pause on the other end of the line. "Look. Andrea. I'll call you once I'm settled in here, okay?"

"...Okay...Just...I hope everything works out for you."

"Yeah. Me too."

They ended the call. Michonne retrieved her nameplate and sat it on her desk, then she placed the photo of her family in the right hand corner of her desk. She studied the photo longingly for a while. Then she bent down to pull a clipping from a newspaper from the box at her feet. The photo beside the article held the face of a blue-eyed man. A blue-eyed man with an innocently rugged face. The caption beneath the photo read 'Rick Grimes'. Michonne sighed, opened the topmost drawer of her desk and placed the newspaper clipping inside.

"Rick Grimes..." Michonne said, her voice hard – cutting through the air like a sharpened blade. She released a breath. "Rick Grimes," she repeated. Her voice was still hard. And distant. "Rick Grimes," she repeated again, looking at the photo. "Rick Grimes." She breathed naturally and forced herself to smile. "Rick Grimes. Rick." That was better. Softer. Warmer. "It's nice to meet you, Rick. My name is Michonne."

Michonne smiled, pleased with herself. Her voice was like honey. She slid the drawer of her desk closed. "It's nice to meet you. Rick Grimes. My name is Michonne."

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"Rick!"

Rick turned at the sound of his best friend, Shane, calling his name. Shane had been Rick's best friend since middle school. He was the wilder one of the two. The "fun" one. When they were younger, Shane would be the one to TP the new guy's yard and Rick would be the one to clean it up. Before the new guy saw it. And without telling Shane about it later on. That way it just worked out best for everyone.

"You goin' to the ranch again man?" Shane asked, stopping in front of Rick with his hands on his hips.

Rick had been gathering his jacket from the back of the chair behind his desk at the sheriff's office.

"...Yeah," Rick said. He shrugged a shoulder. "Thought I'd visit Hershel."

Shane didn't look fully at Rick. He glanced at him and then away. Rick knew that meant he had something to say.

"Yeah?" Rick asked, waiting to hear it.

"Man...I didn't wanna say anything and get all up in your business but uh..." Shane sniffed, preparing his next words. "We know this ain't about you wantin' to visit Hershel." Rick stared at him, squinting his eyes. "This is about you wantin' to get away from the house. Away from Lori."

Rick shook his head. "Shane-"

Shane held up a hand. "Look man, I know this ain't my place. But Lori came to me. Wanted me to talk to you. You know...as your friend and everything."

"She came to you about our marital problems?" Rick asked, disbelief in his voice.

"Lori's a smart woman, Rick. She knows that sometimes what it takes to get a man to listen is to hear it from another man." When Shane didn't get any objection from Rick, he kept going. "That woman loves you, Rick. And I know you love her too. And I just don't see how you runnin' off to do anything but go to your own home is helpin' matters when that's Lori's main complaint about you man. She says you're not home enough. That you don't spend enough time with her and Carl."

"...Is that what you think?" Rick asked, tilting his head. He challenged Shane to answer the question with his stare.

"It don't matter what I think, man! It matters what Lori thinks! And your son." When Rick's gaze dropped to his shoes, ignoring the words he was hearing, Shane decided to answer the question. "But yeah, Rick." He had Rick's attention again. "I think Lori has a point." He ignored the incredulous, hardness that shadowed Rick's face at the statement. "You're lucky to have a woman like her. And a kid like Carl. Most of us would be runnin' out of here to get home if we were in your shoes. Hell, Steve over there spends his weekends with a frozen box dinner and old reruns of Bonanza. You don't think he would put a bullet in your back if he thought that could get him a shot at your life?"

"It's true, Rick," Steve piped up from his corner of the office. "And I love you like a brother."

Rick glanced at Steve and shook his head, recognizing the humor even though he wasn't enjoying being berated by a man who claimed to know and understand him better than anyone. Especially after what happened nine months ago.

"See?" Shane continued. "You've gone to the stables every day this week. Just for tonight. Go home."

"You don't understand, man," Rick said, shaking his head. "I love Lori and Carl more than anything and I tried going home more often...working less...I tried it. But it's like...even when I try to do what she wants me to do, I end up doing it wrong somehow and she ends up getting mad anyway. We argue about everything. I know if I go home right now, it's gonna be somethin'...I can't help wanting a little break from that."

Shane nodded, hearing what Rick was saying but not understanding it. And not agreeing with it. Rick could tell. "What about Carl, man?" Shane asked. "You wantin' a little break from him too? Because he might be the one getting hurt most of all from all o' this."

Rick shook his head again. He knew he didn't have anything to say to that. It wasn't fair that Carl was caught up in some of the consequences resulting from what he and Lori were going through right now. Whatever it was that he and Lori were going through...

Shane walked away, leaving Rick lost in thought for a moment more. Until he finally sighed and grabbed his coat, heading to the ranch.

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Rick, who had changed into a blue button-up and jeans, held the reins of the horse Hershel had led out to him. It was a beautiful black stallion. "I always enjoy coming out here," Rick said, as Hershel situated the horse's saddle. "This place is beautiful." They were in the middle of a stretch of beautiful greenery. A stable that held about twelve horses sat in the middle of he lot, a large pen with hurdles sat off to the side for the horse's exercise, and a three-mile long trail led from the stable down to a lake that ended Hershel's acreage.

Hershel was an old farmer with two daughters, Beth and Maggie Greene. They lived about a mile away from the stables. Hershel always rented out his horses for training, horse riding lessons, or simply as a date spot for romantic couples. It had actually become quite popular among people in the town of King's County. Hershel was sweet and the place was beautiful.

Rick certainly loved the peace and serenity he found there.

"Still having problems with your wife?" Hershel asked.

Rick sighed. He didn't know why he had told Hershel about his marital problems. It just came so easy to talk to the old man. "I don't really wanna talk about that right now," Rick said. "I came out here because I wanna get away from it for a while."

"I understand that," Hershel said with a nod. He finished placing the saddle and began to reassuringly pat Rick's horse down. "I know my wife and I...we used to get into the nastiest spats. But we always came out stronger on the other side." He faced Rick, blue eyes meeting blue. "Just remember Rick. Things break but they can still grow."

The purr of an engine interrupted the two men. They both looked over to see a royal blue Toyota Solara pull up to a stop beside the stable. Rick's horse began to fidget.

"Shh, shh," Rick soothed, patting it's nose.

He looked back over just in time to see a dark-skinned woman with dreads pulled up into a stylish half up, half down style. She wore tight blue jeans tucked into black boots that came up midway on her shins. A long-sleeve white button-up shirt adorned her torso and it was tied so that a flash of her midriff – a sliver right above the waistband of her pants – could be seen. She closed the door of her car and walked toward the two men, a black hat in her hand.

Rick was unconsciously patting the horse now, somewhat intrigued by the woman that was approaching them. Her eyes were large, her lips were shaped like a heart, and she seemed to be looking right at him.

"Michonne." Rick slid his eyes away from the woman to see Hershel approaching her, a slight exasperation in his tone. "I know I you're new here and you've only come to my ranch once to visit, but I have to remind you that if you drive here, you have to park up at the house. We can't risk the sound of engines spooking the horses. I have a horse called Nervous Nellie that would kick up a storm if she would have been loose when you came driving up."

"Sorry, Mr. Greene," Michonne said. Rick took note of the rich fullness of her voice. "I forgot that rule."

Rick risked another glance their way and saw that Michonne was definitely looking at him. Surprised to be caught in her gaze, he nodded a greeting.

"Come here," Hershel said, noticing the two people noticing each other. "Let me introduce you to Rick. Have you two met already?"

"No, we haven't," Michonne answered, following behind Hershel until his footsteps led her to Rick. She stopped in front of him.

Rick stared at Michonne, finding it difficult to look away. There was something demanding in her gaze.

"Rick, this is Michonne. Michonne, Rick," Hershel introduced.

"It's nice to meet you, Rick," Michonne said, holding out a hand. "I'm Michonne."

"It's nice to meet you too," Rick said, taking her hand. Her grip was warm and strong. "I'm Rick."

"Michonne just moved to King's County," Hershel continued. He turned to Michonne. "Rick's the sheriff's deputy there."

"Oh," Michonne said, nodding. "I'm surprised I haven't seen you around until now. King's County is so small, seems like I had seen everybody by the second day."

"I'm surprised I'm just now seeing you too," Rick said.

Michonne tilted her head, taking note of his strong Southern drawl.

"I usually know days ahead of time before someone comes into town," Rick continued. "Like you said, it's a small community. Therefore everyone is in everyone else's business. When did you move in?"

"A week ago." Rick gave her a once-over, again surprised that he hadn't seen or heard anything about her. He made it his business to know everything about who was in his town. It was sort of his job.

"A week ago, really," Rick asked.

"Yeah."

"What brings you to King's County?"

"I'm opening up a law office here. Going into business by myself."

Rick's mouth fell open. "Oh!" he said, bits and pieces of talk coming into his mind. "Yeah! I have heard that there was someone coming to open a law office! I just didn't know that you were here already!" He chuckled.

"Here I am," Michonne said, splaying her arms out.

"She came to me the other day and said she wanted to take riding lessons," Hershel piped in, already leading out an auburn-colored horse Rick knew to be named Flame. He turned his full attention to Michonne. "Now, I usually get one of my daughters, Beth or Maggie, to oversee the lessons but Beth has come down with the flu, poor thing, and Maggie has gone off on a two-week vacation."

"Oh..." Michonne's eyes landed on Rick. "Well, Rick...looks like he knows what he's doing," she suggested. "Maybe he can give me some pointers."

Rick was slightly surprised but he didn't let it register on his face. Hershel smiled. "Yeah," he said. "Yeah, that sounds like a good idea. He needs to focus on something besides moping anyway."

Recovering from his surprise, Rick chuckled. "I don't mope." He turned back to Michonne. "But yeah...yeah, I think I can show you some basics."

"Good," Hershel said. "I was thinking I was gonna have to teach you myself. I'd much rather rest these old bones back up at the house."

"I'll be expectin' to get paid for this," Rick joked.

"Yeah, keep expectin'..." Hershel quipped back, walking back towards the stable to tend to the other horses.

Rick chuckled as Hershel disappeared back into the stable. He turned back to Michonne, who was still studying him silently. "Come on," Rick said. He tilted his head toward the trail and began to pull his horse after him. Michonne took her horse's reins and did the same. "We'll go on the trail for a couple of miles."

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"So where are you from?" Rick asked before they mounted their horses. "You don't look like you usually navigate to places like this."

Michonne turned to Rick. "What gives it away?" she asked.

Rick smirked, looking her up and down again. "Your city-girl attempt at a country-gjrl style."

Michonne's lips turned up into a smile. Rick was proud of himself for making it happen. "Noted," Michonne said. She lifted the hat she carried. "Hat or no hat?"

"You might as well go all the way," Rick said with a shrug.

Michonne immediately donned the hat. She tilted her head up so that she could see Rick's face from underneath the brim. "Good?"

"I'd say you were fully prepared to go horse-ridin'," Rick said. "Here. Let me help you up onto your saddle." Michonne turned to her horse and grabbed the top of the saddle. She placed one leg in the stirrup and prepared to push herself up onto the horse. She felt Rick's hands come around her waist for support. She smirked before easily lifting herself up and throwing her leg over the other side of the saddle, successfully mounting there. Rick's hand brushed across her thigh as he pulled away.

"You have rough hands," Michonne stated that fact judging from what she had felt against the sliver of skin she bared while he was helping to lift her into the saddle.

"Yeah. I'm sorry," Rick said looking at his hands.

"No, it's a good thing," Michonne assured. "Means you're a hard worker. My dad had rough hands. It makes you feel like you're in the hands of a capable man when you can feel the work he's put into life through his fingers."

Rick stared up at Michonne. She had never been on a horse before, but she sat on the back of Flame like she belonged there. She looked absolutely regal. Rick looked away. "Your dad okay with you moving to a town like King's County, Georgia?" he asked.

"No," Michonne answered.

Rick waited for the rest of the story, but it didn't come. He realized she must not want to go into it. "Okay," he said, changing the subject. "Well, you've mastered the first step in horse riding. Which is getting into the saddle. You're already proving to be a better student than I was; it took me five tries."

Michonne chuckled. Rick enjoyed the sound. It came from her chest. "And when did you start learning?" she asked.

"When I was twelve."

Michonne nodded. "Sounds about right," she said. Before Rick could ask what she meant, she continued. "Let me guess. You've lived here all your life. You have no desire to go anywhere else. You married your high school sweetheart. And you're just waiting to grow old and retire as the best damn sheriff in King's County."

Rick climbed up onto his own horse and glanced over at the exotic-looking woman beside him. "Pretty boring, huh?" He wished he could talk about an exciting trip that he had taken, but nothing came to him.

"Not boring at all," Michonne said. "Do you know the first things I realized about you when I saw you back there?"

"What?" Rick asked.

"One, you're handsome. Two, you're married. And three...it wasn't until I saw you that I realized just how much I'm looking forward to staying in King's County."

Michonne watched a blush form across Rick's face. He felt like she was flirting with him, but it had been so long since anyone had flirted with him that he felt like he may be mistaking polite compliments for flirtation.

"Th-thank you," Rick stammered. "Well, I'll make sure to make you feel at home. Introduce you to some people. I can even show you around if you'd like."

"I'd love that," Michonne said.

"Great," Rick said. He glanced over and caught Michonne's warm gaze before facing ahead again. The horse beneath him shifted, picking up on the flustered feelings of its owner. "Well...let's get going," Rick said. "The first thing you wanna do when steering your horse is pick up the reins. Just hold them in your hand for now, we won't be using them much for now since we'll just be walking slowly straight ahead. Dig your heels gently into the horse's side..."

Rick's horse began to walk slowly ahead as he demonstrated what he was saying. The warm expression on Michonne's face froze and hardened.

'Enjoy it while you can, Rick,' she thought. 'I'm going to destroy your family. Just like you destroyed mine.'

- Revenge fic! We'll find out a little more about why Michonne wants revenge in the next chapter. -