A/N: And the conclusion of my fluffy little tale. It was a pleasure to write and I hope you all enjoyed it!

"What are you doing?" Rick stood in the doorway, regarding her curiously.

"Changing into my pajamas," Michonne laughed lightly, holding her towel in place as she bent down slightly to open their dresser.

Rick shut the door to their bedroom, the lock clicking. "Everyone's left the house. Carl is holed up in his room and Judith is finally asleep." He stepped behind her, pressing his chest flush against her backside. Gently, he closed the dresser drawer. "I don't think you're going to want pajamas tonight."

"Is that right?" She asked. A shiver ran down her spine as Rick's hands brushed her hair, gathering the locs in a fist and sweeping them to the side.

"In fact, I don't think you're going to be needing pajamas for the next seven nights," he pressed kisses into the back of her neck to punctuate his statement, dusting his lips lightly over the sensitive skin.

"You sure you're up to the challenge?" she teased, rolling her body backwards against him. Rick inhaled sharply, grasping her around the waist.

"It's been a week," one hand came up to where her towel was knotted closed. Michonne traced his fingers, pressing them firmly into her. "I know you missed me too." His low, rumbling tone undid her completely.

She spun around deftly, lifting her arms to drape them around her husband's neck. The towel dropped away from her body. Rick relinquished his hold on it to grab her instead, pulling her into his embrace. Without preamble, he began to kiss down her body, dropping to his knees slowly until he reached her stomach. He pressed his face into her skin, exhaling against her.

"We need to find a doctor," Rick's voice tickled her skin as he spoke against her stomach.

Michonne laughed lightly, "We'll put out an ad for one." She began to toy with his curly hair, admiring how the dark color contrasted so starkly with his graying facial hair.

"We'll find one," Rick announced this assuredly. Michonne grinned down at him.

"It's going to be ok. Hilltop has medicine, we have food and shelter…" She attempted to coax him back to his feet. He tightened his grip on her waist, resisting.

"Still, it's going to be tricky without a doctor." He was staring at her stomach as though he could see through her.

"Maggie did it," Michonne reminded him gently. "And I'll have you." She gripped his shoulders.

"I wasn't there," he announced suddenly. "For Judith, I mean."

Michonne knew this story well. Carol had told her after she arrived at the prison. Rick had been in a bad place then. So had she.

"Rick, that wasn't your fault," she lowered herself to her knees in front of him, coming eye to eye with her husband. His guilty expression was one she had seen all too often. "And it's not what's going to happen to us." She cupped his face, lifting his chin firmly. "We fought our war and we won." She closed the negligible distance between them, dropping a kiss on his lips.

He responded eagerly, stirring against her until she was wrapped around him, her naked skin rustling his clothing in his haste to shed it. Michonne pulled his waist into hers, eager to feel him.

"I don't think I can make it to the bed," he rasped against her ear, kicking his jeans off as they tangled beneath him.

"Me neither," He was pressed against her, rock hard. She hooked her legs around his narrow hips, pulling him down on top of her. Rick caught on quickly, positioning himself so that he slid home as her back hit the ground. She gasped, stifling her cry of pleasure against his shoulder.

"God, I love you," Rick pressed this declaration into her skin, kissing her deeply.

"I love you too," Michonne rolled him over, settling on top.

"Do you want a boy or a girl?" Michonne whispered. They had made it to their bed after much ado, and were now laying twisted around one another, the covers pulled up to their shoulders.

Rick smiled, his mind conjuring up an image of what his child with Michonne could look like. "We already have one of each. Surprise me." He kissed her forehead, adjusting his grip around her.

"I think she's a girl," Michonne stretched against him. "Andre felt different."

Rick pulled her closer, rubbing soothing circles into her back. She could talk about Andre now, even if her tone always held a tint of sadness. "Are you afraid?" he couldn't help thinking about how Judith came into the world, the close shaves they had with Carl, the little boy that he knew his wife missed every day. This world was not an easy one to grow up in.

"A little," she admitted, her fingers twisting around his. "But this time will be different."

Michonne sounded so sure that Rick could not help but to lift his head to glance down at her. "Why do you say that?" he asked.

She shrugged, "Because it's you and me," she kissed him lightly to drive home her pronouncement. Overcome, Rick held her face against his, slanting his mouth over hers. Her little gasp of pleasure sent heat racing through. He rolled her body beneath his, careful not to put too much weight on her stomach. "Round two already?" she asked on a laugh.

"Seven days," he reminded her, biting lightly at her shoulder to make her laugh again. "We've got to make the most of it. Besides," he jerked her legs around his waist gently, smirking at her proudly when an expression of pleasure rushed across her face. "You're not leaving my sight for the next few months. Might as well get used to it."

"I'm not the one who made that bet," she reminded him, rolling her hips.

"That's why I need you with me all of the time. So I don't do dumb things," he kissed her neck as she giggled.

"I think I can manage that," she promised.

Rick's grinned widened. "Rosita's going to hate us."

"She'll get over it," Michonne pulled him back to her, silencing him with a kiss.