"Calm Amid the Storm"

The rain fell in drenching sheets, hammering the roof of the Grimes household, pattering against the windows in a multitude of notes too quick to discern. The early morning light was muted by the grey/black sky as Rick and Michonne lay curled together in bed, Michonne's head resting on Rick's chest. He slid his arm underneath her and pulled her tighter against him, kissing her forehead. She groaned sleepily and slid her bare thigh up his. There was something beautiful and wonderful about being warm and naked in bed with the one you loved as the world outside seethed and roiled.

"Lazy, lazy, lazy," Michonne said, "No better day than today to be off the clock."

"Mmm hmm," Rick said, his eyes still closed, "And Judith is even staying with Uncle Daryl until this evening. We can even go back to sleep if we want to. Can you imagine?"

"You almost never let me sleep anyway, Richard," she quipped, "You monster."

He chuckled. "I couldn't help myself, last night. You were giving me that Look."

"I don't have a Look," she said with feigned incredulity.

He laughed wholeheartedly at that. "Darlin', you are a terrible liar. I advise you never to play poker."

She rolled away and hid beneath the covers. "I'm amazing at poker. Shut up. Don't touch me."

He poked at the curled ball beneath the covers, making the ball twitch and giggle. "No! No poking!"

"That's not what you said last night! Or the night before that!"

"Ugh! I hate you so much," she said, her voice muffled by the sheets.

"Suuuuuure you do," he said, curling behind the amorphous ball of blankets that what his love, kissing what he surmised was the top of her head. His eyes almost immediately brightened.

"Hey, I know what's perfect for a lazy day like today," he said.

"Mmm?" More blanketspeak.

"Get out from under there and lay on your stomach."

"Why, Sheriff, are you hitting on me?" She said in a girly falsetto, finally emerging from her protective shroud.

"I probably will later, but right now, I've got a pretty good idea. Bet you'll like it too."

Michonne threw back the sheets, gloriously naked, her ebony skin a brilliant contrast to these white sheets, and Rick thought for a moment maybe he should simply progress to seduction with wanton abandon. But no, he thought the better of it.

For now, he simply wished to spoil her.

Michonne complied, exposing her sculpted rear, giving it a teasing wiggle. She smirked back at him.

He grumbled, grabbing a handful and playfully pushing her pelvis into the bed.

"And I'm the monster here," he said, "Oh, and for the record, what you just did was your Look."

Michonne laughed, resting her head against the mattress, "Baby, how you vex me. I am found out."

Rick sat astride her ass, moving her arms slightly out to her sides. He leaned forward and kissed the back of her neck, giving her earlobe a gentle nibble while she wiggled appreciatively beneath him.

When he thought about sex, he thought about Michonne, and though sex was screaming in mindless hunger throughout his senses, he let it become a simmering undercurrent to what he wanted to do.

He ran his hands up her back, slowly sinking his fingers into her trapezius, the muscle where her neck met her shoulders, and began to roll his fingers across the tightness there.

Her reaction was immediate and intense. She first tensed, her buttocks clenching beneath him (and he couldn't help but admire the strength there), and then she seemed to deflate like a balloon.

"Oh my God," she moaned, reaching around and gripping his ass, "If you stop, I'm going to cry."

"You carry all your tension up here," he said, paying rapt attention to the knots, the adhesions in the muscle, pausing to hold one between his fingers for several seconds, "Every time you get tense, your shoulders immediately push together."

Michonne was face-down in the mattress. "Always keeping an eye on me, huh," she said, the smile audible in her voice. She groaned throatily as Rick worked out a knot near her left shoulder.

"Yes, ma'am, I am."

"Pervert."

"Guilty as charged, Miss Prosecutor."

The rain continued drumming the house, panging against the windows heartily. For several minutes, they were silent, save for Michonne's appreciative grunts and moans while Rick chuckled, pleased with himself as she began to evince a state more comparable to jello than a woman.

"When is the last time we had a day just to be lazy like this," he said, "Just to be people? Just lie in bed, not go anywhere, and not rush to get anything done?"

"Ug," Michonne replied.

"Such a way with words," he mocked, "Bet juries loved you."

She slapped him on the ass. He laughed, his fingers sliding up her neck, gently knead the muscle there.

"The very fact that we can have a morning like this makes me think there's hope here in Alexandria. For so long, we weren't allowed to be people and to have things like this."

"If we didn't have so many late nights, we could wake up in time for you to do this every morning," she groaned, grinning, "God knows it'd be tough for me, but I'd manage."

"Oh shaddap," he said, "You know what I mean."

"I do," she said, gently squeezing his thigh. "Peace wasn't a luxury we could afford, out there on the road. Every second counted (oh, God…right there) and tension was a constant. But humans, we…we can't always be that way or we won't be humans anymore."

"I know, he said, bringing her arms up so he could work her finely-contoured shoulders, "We were almost out there too long. I know I was. That's probably why the Wolves became what they are."

They were silent for a time, Rick's hands continued their exploration of her, and he realized what he was doing was a form of worship. He shook his head in spite of himself. God, he loved this woman, every aspect of her.

Michonne laughed into the pillow. "You were beginning to resemble a passably-cute Chewbacca."

"Passably," he said with mock offense, "Well, if that's the case, I better stop now..."

"No," she said, gripping his thighs, "Remember? Tears." She pointed to her face.

He leaned down, kissing her upturned left cheek, and running his fingers up the sides of her neck.

"As you wish, my Queen."

"You are entirely too cheesy," she laughed.

"As if you don't love it," he said, rubbing the muscle at the base of her skull.

"I do," she acquiesced, squeezing his thighs, "But you're right. We were almost out there too long. You can only wear your game-face so long until it ceases to be something you can just take off, anymore."

"Do you think we would have been able to see each other for what we are, if we hadn't come here?" He inquired, "Do you think we would have even been possible in that world?"

Michonne was silent for a time. "Honestly, baby, I don't know. I think that maybe one day it just would have just exploded. It finally would have gotten to us and there would have been no subtlety because there was no place for it. It would have been messy, all at once, and maybe made us stupid. It would have been animalistic and not…not what we have. It wouldn't have been something human."

"I can't pretend you don't bring out the animal in me," he said, reaching his hands beneath her to rub the muscle under her collarbone as she moaned, "But it a lot of ways, that's a good thing."

Michonne grinned, turning to kiss his arm, "I've noticed," she said, "You woke a bit of a tigress, yourself. And in case you haven't noticed, she wants every part of you."

"Still," he said, reflectively, "The part of me that's still an animal, the one from out there on the road, comes out at the thought of anything happening to you."

"Yes," she agreed, her hands now enfolding his wrists as he worked his fingers across her upper chest, an action which, in spite of her state of immense relaxation, was beginning to excite her, "It's the same for me. And if I'm still breathing, nothing is going to harm you or try to take you away from me. Ever."

"As savage as I've ever been out there on the road," he said softly, "As bad as it ever got, if something happened to you… I'd be worse. I don't think I could come back from that, baby. I think the animal would win for good."

"We don't die, Rick," she said.

"No," he replied, "We win."

"We win."

Silence fell between them, then, the air heavy with their own considerations. The world came slowly back into focus around them now; the sound of the driving rain had been seemingly muted by their words and their intimacy.

Michonne was almost entirely slack beneath Rick and he eased himself off her to lie at her side. He placed his hand on the small of her back and caressed her slowly, lovingly. Her eyes were closed for the moment, though he studied her face intently; her full, cupid's mouth, her almond-shaped eyes, her high, regal cheekbones. There were times that she was so beautiful he couldn't look directly at her. She opened her eyes and looked into his, languidly reaching her hand up to caress his face and neck.

"Whatever this world is now," Rick said, looking into her deep, brown eyes, "Whatever it's going to be from here on out, I want it to be with you, Michonne. You damn well better understand that."

She smiled the smile that lit the entirety of her face, hell, that smile singularly brightened the world.

"I wouldn't have it any other way," she said, "Whatever this Next World is going to be, I'm with you, Rick. I'm still with you. I'm always with you."

A peaceful stillness fell between them and they closed their eyes, relishing their collective warmth. The rain had fallen into a hypnotic crescendo now, the rhythm now becoming as soothing as one of a metronome, and Rick felt himself beginning to drift off again. Michonne's slight stirring next to him brought him back to his senses.

"Rick?" She said.

"Mmm?"

"As soon as I can move again, it's your turn."

"Take your time, baby," he said, giving her a tender kiss, "Take your time. We've got all day."

Michonne giggled. "Lazy, lazy, lazy."