Michonne stood at the counter scraping leftovers of the squash casserole from dinner into a plastic container. She smiled to herself as she remembered the conversation she and Rick had while lying in his bed two nights ago after returning from an eventful day at the Hilltop and a late night of planning.

Despite her desire to continue exploring this brand new physical aspect of their relationship, the long day and guarantee of another had them settling for hushed pillow talk interspersed with soft, lazy kisses they drifted off to sleep. They were on their sides; face to face, legs tangled, and hands gently grazing over each other's middles under the covers. Talk of the day's events led them to the topic of the surplus of summer squash in their kitchen, and the discovery that squash casserole was one of their favorite dishes growing up. Rick's mother made hers with cream of mushroom soup and crumbled Ritz crackers on top while hers made a roux from scratch and topped it off with breadcrumbs made from stale baguettes. Regardless of the technique, the result was the same: it was childhood comfort food for both that they'd agree to try to replicate for Carl and Judith the first chance they got.

Leftovers. It was still a strange feeling to stand there, content with a full belly and the knowledge of where their next meal would be coming from. Excess. For the past two years, only bad things seemed to come in excess: tragedy, hunger, fatigue, loss. Lately, though, the good things seemed to outweigh the bad. She was eating more and sleeping sounder than she had in at least two years. She lived in a larger house than she had before the turn. And her heart. Her heart was filled to the brim with a kind of love she never thought she would feel, or even deserved to, since she'd lost her son and lover at the start of this. She had a family again, and on top of that, a romantic love that rivaled all that had come before.

She placed the leftovers in the refrigerator and walked down the hall to her room where she found another thing existing in excess in her life right now: laundry. The basket sitting in the middle of her bed was overflowing with just about every piece of clothing she owned except for the ones on her body. Falling in love and righting the world were terribly distracting when it came to household chores. She sighed and looked down at the orange tank top she was wearing. She could probably get away with wearing it one more day, but the luxury of putting on a clean shirt every day was one she'd grown quite accustomed to...but there was no way she'd let one more night pass where what she needed to do would stop her from doing what she wanted to do.

She walked over to her dresser and opened the top drawer. She began to sort through the clothes she'd inherited with the house. She hoped to find some overlooked tank top, and if there wasn't one, she could always repurpose an old t-shirt with a pair of scissors and some well placed knots just like the old days.

As she dug deep through her drawers, her mind began to wander to the thoughts of what she wanted. It was fortunate that their first time had taken her by surprise because if she'd known the pleasure she was about to experience that night, she would have been a lost cause for the day. She wanted to feel his hands on her again; feel him inside of her, and all over her. The memories of the first night were largely a blur, everything fuzzy from that blissful existence she'd given into; but in moments of quiet when more pressing matters didn't demand her attention, they would readily come to the forefront and she would replay them in her mind, hoping that they would soon get the chance to relive them.

With this quiet night at home, she knew this was their chance to get back to what they'd started. Her anticipation grew as each of the day's responsibilities were attended to: the guard shifts, perimeter runs, dinnertime, bathtime, and bedtime rituals. It was all she could think about this evening, and she knew Rick felt the same. The way his hands were constantly sweeping across her lower body each time he passed her in the kitchen as they prepared dinner, and they way she'd look up to find him staring at her in quiet moments with those squinted eyes and that half-smile told her everything she needed to know.

"I figured you'd come upstairs after you were done in the kitchen."

She gasped, startled as the object of her thoughts, appeared in her doorway with the very look on his face she was just imagining in her head.

"Just looking for a clean shirt to wear tomorrow," she explained as she held up the XL black t-shirt currently in her hand before tossing it back in the drawer and shutting it with her hip as she leaned against her dresser to face him.

He glanced at the laundry basket on her bed as he entered her room and walked toward her. Her eyes traveled from his face, down his white t-shirt clad torso, to the front of his jeans where the gun belt and holster were noticeably absent.

"Carl's tucked away in his room for the night watching movies, and Judith's finally asleep after two rounds of Goodnight Moon," he informed her as he took a seat on the edge of her bed. She knew it was his way of assuring her there were no distractions. No duties, no kids, and no pesky gun belts to get in the way.

"I told you, if you read slowly and softly enough, you can get her down halfway through the first round," Michonne gloated as she walked toward him. "It's all in the tone."

She stepped into the space between his knees, and he naturally placed his hands on her hips as he looked up at her smiling face.

"You always say that...I'll believe it when I see it," he teased.

"Tomorrow night. I'll show you how it's done," she promised as she rested her hands in his shoulders and began to toy with the curls at the base of his neck with her fingers.

"Looking forward to it." He smirked, never taking his eyes off of her face. His hands had crept up under her shirt and she could feel his thumbs stroking lightly back and forth from her waist to her belly as his fingers placed a gentle pressure on her back to bring her even closer to him.

"You need to take care of that tonight?" He nodded toward the pile of dirty clothes next to him.

"Uh uh."

The sway in her back became more pronounced as she kept her lower body pressed against him while she leaned back to maintain eye contact.

"You sure? I know how you get when you run out of toothpaste, so I can only imagine how it is when you run out of clean clothes…"

Although he was giving her an out, he continued to press her into him. His hands were now firmly planted on her ass, fingers continuing to stroke back and forth. Back and forth. So close, they were so close.

"I'm sure. That's nothing compared to how I get when I'm..."

She shook her head and gave him a shy grin, wishing that there were take backs, but the shine in his eyes told her it was too late. He'd already latched on, and wasn't going to let it go.

"When you're what?" he pressed.

She didn't answer, and instead, bent at the waist until her eyes became level with his. Then she laced her fingers together behind his head and guided his lips toward hers. As with the first time, they wasted no time warming up, and soon found themselves almost inhaling each other as their lips and tongues melded together passionately. As they lost themselves in the kiss, she lowered herself onto his lap, straddling one of his thighs with her legs. She moaned into the kiss as the sensation between her legs grew more and more pleasurable as she ground against the top of his thigh.

She reflexively brought her left knee up against his bulge, holding it there as they undulated against each other, so ready to keep moving on.

"Michonne," he breathed out as he momentarily unlatched his lips from hers to tilt his head as they switched angles.

The sound of her name in his breathy southern drawl turned her on even more than she already was. She pulled away from him, smiling mischievously, as she crossed her arms in front of her, and gripped the hem of her tank top. But as she was about the lift it over her head, she noticed his eyes flash sideways as an inscrutable look flashed across his face.

"What is it?" she whispered.

"The door."

She looked over to see her bedroom door wide open, and every light in the kitchen and living room still on.

"Shit."

She dropped her hands and smoothed her tank back down as she climbed off of him. She turned to quickly shut the door, but felt his hand clasp around her wrist.

"Wait." She looked back at him and tilted her head. "We should head upstairs."

"No, no, no," she pleaded, not wanting to lose the momentum they had. "I'll just shut the door, and we're good to go."

She went to move, but his grip stayed firm on her arm, jerking her back toward him.

"Judith's up there, and so is the monitor," he explained as he stood and let his hand slip from her wrist down to to her hand here he intertwined his fingers with hers.

"And so is Carl...right on the other side of the wall."

"Oh, he can't hear anything!"

"The hell he can't," she protested. "Rick, please." It was as close to a whine as he'd ever heard come out of her. "We'll go upstairs after we're done."

She placed her other hand on his chest, and began to walk forward, hoping to get him right back into her bed, but he wasn't budging and just started to chuckle at her antics.

"You and I both know that won't happen."

He made a very good point, and she knew it. When they were done, they would be done for the night with no hopes of getting up until they'd each gotten a few hours of sleep to recover if all went as planned. It was also easier to give in and move on at this point because had she agreed in the first place, she knew she'd already be undressed and on his bed by now.

"Fine. Just grab my gun and katana for me," she instructed as she disappeared into her bathroom for a moment.

She reappeared clutching her toothbrush and a few condoms she'd found in her medicine cabinet when they'd first moved in, and she smiled when she found him waiting at the door for her with her weapons in his hands.

"I don't know why you're always starting things downstairs that you can't finish," she said, giving him the eye as she walked past him to exit.

"Me?"

"Yeah, you."

He flicked the light off as he walked out behind her. They walked down the hall, through the kitchen where he snagged an apple from the fruit basket on the counter with his free hand. He then looped his arm around the front of her waist as they headed towards the stairs.

"Funny, that's not how I see it at all," he whispered over her shoulder, pulling her back into him as they walked single file up the stairs. "You were comin' onto me tonight."

She scoffed and looked back at him, shooting daggers with her eyes. He had a point, but he'd come down there looking for her, and what did he expect to happen when they were alone together for the first time in a while?

Once they reached the top of the stairs, they went straight into Rick's room. She watched him walk over to the opposite side of the room to place the apple and her weapons on the nightstand situated on what was apparently her side of the bed. He then took a seat at the foot of his bed, just as he had in her room a few minutes earlier.

She took his lead and climbed back onto his lap, just as she had done before. Despite her fear of losing the moment, they were right back where they'd left off, kissing passionately, only this time, he was the one grabbing onto the bottom of her shirt and lifting it over her head. He unclasped her bra and slipped it off of her shoulders as his kisses moved down her neck, around the slope of her shoulder, along her collarbone, and then down to her ample breasts. He ran his hands from her back and up her belly until he was cupping them from below as he latched onto one of her dark buds with his mouth, softly tugging at with his teeth and flicking it with his tongue.

With her hands still clasped firmly behind his neck, she threw her head back and ground her pelvis into his thigh in response to the pleasure he was giving her at the moment. She had a brief respite as he placed a final kiss on that breast, stopping to lookup at her with a lusty grin, before moving onto the next one.

"Mmm, Rick," she moaned as she dropped her chin to her chest and began grasping at his white t-shirt in order to get it off of him as quickly as possible.

His lips broke contact with her chest as he pulled away for a moment to help her remove his shirt. Their eyes met as the shirt cleared his face, and in the brief pause in their action, they both became aware of the sounds of yelling, gunshots, and tires squealing coming through the wall that bordered Carl's room. She raised an eyebrow at Rick, taking a moment to gloat. If they could hear his action movie, she was certain he could hear them. He nodded and chuckled quietly, and used the break to reposition them, pulling her down to the bed on top of him as he inched them back toward the headboard.

They fell back into their hurried kissing and groping as was so easy for them to do. This is was so new for them, and it had been so long for both of them, and there were so many things she wanted to do with him, and him with her, but she wanted something different tonight. Somehow, her mind cleared enough from the haze of excitement and desire, and she decided she wanted to slow it down. She finished their kiss, allowing her tongue to linger in his mouth as she slowly broke away from him, sucking on his lower lip as she did. Her hands trailed down his toned chest and landed on the grooves on his lower abdomen that run down below his beltline as she brought herself up to seated position and straddled his waist.

He watched her face as she did, his expression seeming thoughtful and concerned, but still completely adoring.

"You OK?" he asked as he brought his hand up to stroke her thigh. They were both breathing heavy.

"Yeah," she assured him with a full smile. "I just wanted…" Her fingers began to undo his belt buckle as she kept her attention on his handsome face. She could feel him respond every time her fingers brushed against the front of his jeans. "...something different tonight."

He nodded, eyes still on her, and reached down to begin unbuckling her jeans. They'd done fast and frenzied, and he understood that she wanted to slow it down this time, and he was completely on board. Anything she wanted, and anyway she wanted it, he was with her.

Once they rid themselves of their pants, she briefly stopped to take him into her mouth on her way back up, running her tongue along his shaft and then around his head making him harder than he already was. After a quick tease and brief pause to put one of those condoms to use, she straddled his waist again, and took him in her hand then guided him to her entrance and slowly sunk down onto it. They both moaned at the feeling they'd been waiting to experience again. She hooked her ankles under his knees, and he reached up to take her hands in his as she slowly began to circle her hips.

They held each other's gaze, only closing their eyes briefly or throwing their heads back when the pleasure overwhelmed them and left them no choice. It was amazing to think that there was a time that they had trouble looking at each other in the eye for too long, always having to break or look away. One kiss and one night had changed it all, but perhaps that's what it was. They'd created these barriers between them, these self-imposed lines that they felt couldn't cross, and now that they had, there was nothing to be shy or embarrassed about. Nothing that couldn't be shared between them.

After a slow steady build that cheated neither of them of an intense release, Michonne folded and eased her body down so that her head was resting on his chest. She threw one leg over his, and he wrapped his arm around her, kissing her forehead as they caught their breath, and enjoyed their much deserved post-coital daze.

"Thank you," she cooed as she ran of fingers over the sparse, wiry hair that dotted his chest chest.

"For what?"

"For this," she replied as she tilted her chin to look up at him.

"I know you're not thankin' me for sleepin' with you," he said as he began to laugh quietly.

He was truly confused by what she could have been appreciative of because that was one thing he was certain he'd always be more than happy to do with her from here on out.

"No." She nudged his leg with her knee she began to laugh, as well. "For giving me what I needed...I needed that tonight."

"Yeah, it was a real chore." He continued to chuckle as the recent image of his gorgeous best friend and new lover riding him flashed across his mind. He was still baffled by her gratitude. "Honestly, Michonne, how else would it be? I'd do anything for you, and I'm pretty sure you would, too."

"I would," she promised. "But I also know that we're shorter on time than we are on desires, so I just wanted to put that out there."

"Not tonight."

"Huh?"

"Take a look at that clock on your nightstand," he said as patted his hand on her back to move her. "What does it say?"

She lifted her head and rolled over to read the clock's glowing arms. "Shit, it's only 9:30? I thought it was later than that."

Once she rolled back over, he pressed another kiss to her forehead and then propped himself up on one elbow, and smiled as he looked down at her.

"We've got time tonight…" He said before kissing her lips. He swung one leg over her thighs and came up on his knees as he kissed her cheek and then the side of her neck. "And somebody accused me of not finishing things I started…" He spared her breasts and began dropping kisses down the center of her chest as he moved down toward her navel much to her delight. "So I figure I should prove her wrong…"

She couldn't help but giggle as his beard tickled her stomach and then the insides of her thighs as he started in on round two. She ran her fingers through the his curls and dropped her head back into the pillow. This night was proving to be worth the wait.