Dr. James entered their bedroom, followed by Tara, Daryl, Gabriel and with all the commotion, Carl came around the corner from his room with a weary-eyed Judith in his arms.

"What the hell, Daryl?" Rick whispered, inclining his head for privacy and grabbing his friend to pull him to the side.

"Sorry, man. I went to Tara's to get her, but she was at Gabriel's house. Then Tara followed me there and Gabriel followed us here." Daryl explained in a hushed tone, "You know everybody's gonna come runnin' if they think Michonne's in trouble."

Rick understood that and nodded, turning his attention back to Michonne and Dr, James. "Ok, Mah-mi Lady. Wah ya got fa' mi? Ya run hot?" Dr. James inquired calmly as to Michonne's condition as she removed all her rings and bracelets and went to the bathroom to scrub her hands.

"No. She doesn't have a fever. Just in some pain." Rick answered for Michonne as he nervously followed Dr. James around the room.

"Michonne?" Carl called to her from the doorway.

"I'm Okay." she assured him.

"Is there anything we can do?" Tara asked.

"I'm fine. Really." Michonne reiterated.

Tara was still concerned. "What happened?"

Michonne and Rick gave the same sheepish glance to each other as Dr. James came out the bathroom. "A'right. Need 'cha all ta cut ya way out.

"What?" Carl whispered to Tara. He could never understand what Dr. James said. Normally he just smiled and nodded but with Michonne laying there needing help, he needed clarity.

"She wants us out." Gabriel translated as he directed everyone to the hallway. "Leslie, Is there anything you need." he asked the midwife.

"Mi jes gwaan' check. All mi need t'is mi ah bit'ta space." Dr. James turned to Rick and ordered with a disciplinary expression, "But Mistah Dahddi Grimes?" She formalized the nickname she had granted him, using his surname instead of his first, "You haffi stay." She brought her finger back and forth in the space between her and him and threatened, "Mi tink us ah gwaan haffi fight."

Once everyone else left the room the doctor began to investigate. "What's got ya pain'n, Mah-mi Lady?"

Michonne explained what she felt and where. Dr. James did a quick pelvic exam. Her diagnosis: A bruised cervix. A few days of bed rest would suffice... after a serious reprimand.

The mid-wife turned to Rick again, obviously bewildered. "T'ought me tol'ya stay offa dis woman, eh? Did ya 'ear me?" She pinched his ear and Rick hung his head in shame. "Me tol'ya 6 weeks!" Dr. James presented her open right hand and the thumb on her left hand to Rick for a visual. "Six! Ya nah count, eh? De sun come up, de sun come up again... das a day! Need'n seven ah dem fah make a week." She clapped her hands loudly for emphasis. "Six weeks, den you 'av de sugar. Nah before!"

Rick hoped no one else in the house could hear Dr. James letting him have it, but she continued without discretion. "Mi nah know what ah monstah ya hang down dere 'tween ya legs, Mistah Dahddi Grimes." She swung her entire arm between her legs, limp, like an elephant's nose making Rick blush at her graphic phallic portrayal, "Maybe das de reason ya go all bow-legg'd, eh?" She pointed directly at him with a squint of her eye, "But ya haffi keep de monstah undah key! Lock it, yah 'ear?! Lawd'ah mercy!"

Michonne was secretly cracking up at Rick's being blamed and chastised for her impatience. Her pelvic floor paid the price for each giggle but she couldn't help it. Rick was red enough to stop traffic and so contrite. Dr. James, however, was no fool.

"Eh, you tink dis funny, Mah-mi Lady? Mi know him nah do dis wid'out cha. Come now, don't ya let dem pretty blue eyes an' dem dah'k curls, make a cripple outcha." Dr. James fluttered her lashes in a sarcastic romantic display, mocking Michonne. "Now do mi haffi stay 'ere and sleep 'tween you and he all de nights 'til de times up?"

"No." Rick's dry mouth whispered nervously. He cleared his throat. "No ma'am."

"En you, Miss Mah-mi Lady? You gwaan be good or 'ave a rock fah ya brain?"

"Yes, ma'am. I'll be good." Michonne answered, still trying to suppress her smile.

Dr. James stayed a few more minutes. Explaining some home remedies to Michonne to help with the pain. When Dr. James opened the door to leave the room, Rick could see the hallway was full of blushing faces. Tara left the awkward situation as soon as Rick opened the door. But Gabriel was waiting for Dr. James. Judith had gone back to sleep, comfortable in her brother's arms. Carl stood there, trying to decipher what the mid-wife had said and why Daryl was laughing. Daryl stayed because, well, because he's Daryl and if he can make fun of the two love birds- he can't resist.

"Damn, Rick." Daryl was the first to say, "I'm impressed. Even if they take your .45, nobody can't never say you ain't a armed and dangerous, man." He laughed and slapped Rick on his back, chuckling too much to notice that Rick was kicking him out.

Michonne's voice came from the room, "Shut up, Daryl!"

"I'm disappointed in you Michonne." Daryl hollered back over his shoulder. "Can't believe he took down the queen!"

"Get out!" Michonne reached for Rick's pillow and hurled it at the door, inflicting pain on herself with the movement.

Daryl broke free of Rick's leadings and ran back for one more taunting jest, peeking his head into the room, "Get well soon!" He gave her a wicked smile.

"She's gonna get you once she's better." Rick warned him, pushing him downstairs towards the door.

Carl walked past Daryl's police escort and entered the room, still worried about Michonne. "You okay?" He asked her quietly.

"Yeah. I'm fine. Don't worry." She comforted him, peeking around his back to see Judith drooling on his shoulder. "Thank God, Judith went back to sleep and the twins didn't wake up through all of this." She said as she tried to adjust herself to a more comfortable position under the sheets.

"Here. Let me get that." Carl offered and propped a pillow behind her neck. "You know, whenever you guys are... you know," he worked up the nerve to say, "I get kinda worried. It sounds dangerous."

Michonne's face went gray. "Oh my god, Carl!" She covered her mouth in shame and whispered, "You can hear us?" She was mortified.

"Sometimes." He said, unable to meet her eyes, he rubbed Judith's back instinctively. "I definitely heard you guys tonight."

Michonne agonized at the thought. "Sorry?" She offered, scrunching her shoulders and grimacing at the conversation.

.

"It's okay. Just be careful in here... and quieter." Embarrassed for himself and Michonne, he tried to slip out quickly before Rick came back and made things 100 times more awkward. A little too slow, he was leaving the room as Rick was entering.

"She okay?" Rick asked Carl as he picked up his pillow. His son nodded to answer. "Are you? I mean... we can talk... if you… you know... I mean… if you need to." Rick whispered, cautiously and reluctantly.

"I'm okay, dad, Good night." Carl swore as he eyed the floor, eager to make his escape.

Rick closed the door and looked at his wife in disappointment, shaking his head.

"Rick, I know you're not shaking your head at me." She said, quickly trying to find a way to put the blame all on his shoulders.

Rick was taken aback, "You and only you." He promised.

"Ok, yes, I initiated." She conceded, "But you... obviously, did too much."

Rick breathed out a short, "Ha! You..." He started to speak but decided that was too ridiculous to dignify. He just shook his head.

Michonne hated when he did that. "Come on. What? What are you going to say?" She demanded, almost a dare.

Rick just shook his head again, and turned the corners of his mouth down indifferently. "Nothin'. Doesn't matter. You're right, right?"

Michonne felt uneasy claiming that win. She could hear the rebuttal to his own words in his tone . But she had run out of leverage. Then she remembered, "Before Dr. James came in you started to say something."

"What?"

"I don't know. You said 'Babe, if you're' ... but you never finished."

"Oh," Rick remembered and smiled wickedly, "I was gonna say if you turn out to be fine... which you did... I get bragg'n rights forever on this one."

"Bragging rights? Ok... Ok... Mistah Dahddi Rick." She did her best Dr. James impression. "You can put that notch in your belt. I know Daryl will never shut up about it. He's right. You are armed and dangerous." She clapped with raillery.

"Naw, not bragg'n rights 'bout that." Rick waved inattentively at that premise. "You knew that already." He winked in her direction and turned off the light. Leaving only the moon and the baby monitor to illuminate their faces, he climbed in bed next to her. His cockiness making her wish she could set her pussy right on his lips to shut him up.

"So what do you get bragging rights for, then?" She asked with skeptical eyes as he lay down face to face with her.

Rick was proud to answer, "We should have waited. I was right and you were wrong... so wrong... I mean as wrong as a person can be... a whole 'nother level of..."

Michonne kissed his lips, "Hush!" she ordered, giggling in pain. "Ugh!" She sighed in desperation, "Three more weeks!"

"Yeah, 'bout that… When I walked her out, Dr. James said since you called down the thunder and got... well... 'wrecked by the storm'-" he chuckled, "you have to wait a whole 'nother 6 weeks, start'n today."

"No, she didn't." Michonne refused to believe it.

"She did." Rick assured her.

"No. I'll do 3 more weeks and that's it. She's not getting more than that!" She protested. Rick laughed as she fiercely negotiated the non-negotiable. "And why are you laughing? That means you have to wait too." She reminded him. "I know you want to make this about me, but don't act like I had to twist your arm to turn you into King Kong tonight. I said fuck me, not kill me. Damn!" Her words were coming like rapid fire from an automatic weapon. Rick continued to laugh at her irritation. "Seriously, Rick. What the hell is so funny?"

He rolled on his back and put his hands behind his head, relaxing, "I was just messing with you. She didn't add 3 weeks."

Michonne inhaled in shock and pinched his forearm for revenge. "Oh, you got jokes? Ok." She squared up. "Every day that I have to wait, you'll be on round the clock diaper duty."

Now Rick was wounded. His relaxing postured changed quickly as he turned to face her again. "C'mon, 'Chonne."

She didn't answer.

"Baby?" Rick pleaded.

Michonne ignored him again.

"Baby, don't be like that." He sweetly traced her chin in the dark, trying to gain favor.

"I'm sleep." She finally answered. "We'll talk in 3 weeks, Mistah Dahddi."

And that was that.