A/N Hi everyone. Here's a quick one shot I threw together for the upcoming Fourth of July. This one is canon and I will be following it up with an AU counterpart as a second chapter. Hope you like it. Thanks for reading and reviewing :-)

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"That must have been amazing!" Michonne fawned, looking at Aaron with wide eyes, as if she could see the scene he was describing playing out before her.

"It was," he agreed, wistfully. "The traffic was insane, but luckily a buddy of ours lived close enough that we could drive in the night before and walk down to the National Mall for the festivities."

"And you'd watch the fireworks from there, with the orchestra playing?"

"Of course!" Eric added. "D.C. knows how to do Independance Day. Best in the nation!"

"My favorite part was looking out over the sea of sparklers in the crowd. They would all blend together and it would look like the whole lawn was ablaze." Aaron glanced at his boyfriend, smiling at their shared memory.

The three were seated at a picnic table near the manmade lake that adorned Alexandria, enjoying the sun and passing Judith around as they relaxed. The discussion of the impending, long forgotten, summer holiday was sparked by an impromptu rendition of "You're a Grand Old Flag" that Eric had launched into at the mention of his days in the marching band. They had been up and down a few rabbit holes in their afternoon, lakeside chat

Michonne turned briefly to check on Rick and Daryl who were finally heading back toward them, after bowing out of the leisurely conversation to talk shop. Daryl was gesturing to the far side of the wall that was visible from their vantage and Rick was nodding his agreement to whatever he was suggesting. She scooted over on the bench when they arrived, and Rick took the seat beside her, still facing outward toward the shore, where Daryl was crouched examining the soil.

"The sparklers were my favorite too," Michonne remembered. "We always had them as kids. They'd burn the hell out of your hand, but we didn't care. We'd just run around swinging them back and forth, leaving little trails of gold in the air. It was like having a magic wand or something."

Aaron nodded at her description. "Eventually, as the atmosphere changed around here and security got tighter, you weren't allowed to have them down there on the lawn anymore. It always disappointed me."

"And now we'll probably never see one again," she sighed dejectedly, bouncing Judith on her knee. "You don't know what you're missing, little girl."

The three of them went quiet for a moment, flipping through their personal memory books inside their heads, before Michonne stood, hoisting Judy up onto her hip. "It's time for dinner. Are you coming?" she asked Rick, who seemed as though he was still making plans in his head.

"I'll be right behind you."

"Alright," she agreed, bending to place a kiss on his sweaty forehead, before walking away with Judith and their neighbors.

"Hoity toity D.C. celebration with symphonies and champagne and shit," Daryl scoffed when their friends were out of earshot. "Don't sound like nothin' compared to a good ol' Georgia party. Jug of moonshine, and some Allman Brothers cranking outta Merle's pickup. Now that's how you celebrate a holiday."

Rick chuckled softly, picturing his friend throwing the type of party he'd always end up busting up when he worked the Fourth. He had confiscated his share of illegal fireworks and booze from the local kids celebrating the country's birthday, while simultaneously trying to blow themselves up.

"You think we could find somethin' like that left around here? They must have some firework stores this close to the city."

Daryl raised an eyebrow at his friend under the veil of brown bangs hanging in his face. "What'd you become a cop when you were twelve? You don't know how to make fireworks?"

Rick shook his head, with a small laugh. He should have known Daryl and Merle wouldn't waltz into a store and buy anything they could make. "I can't say that I do," he admitted. "But it's probably not the best idea to be shooting fire into the sky and inviting all the local walkers to the party they're all throwing."

Daryl nodded, waiting for Rick to explain what he was hoping they would be able to scavenge.

"I was thinking about the sparklers Michonne was talkin' about...the kids would like 'em."

"Yeah, man" Daryl chuckled. "For the kids." He eyed Rick hoping to catch a glimpse of the flush that creeped up his neck when he was doing something nice for Michonne and trying to pass it off as one of his duties as leader of Alexandria. Kind of like when he had brought home a bunch of Lavender seed packets and asked Maggie to plant them in one area of the garden, because Carol might be able to use the edible blooms for something. Then he proceeded to yank a couple of them out every time he passed by on his way home from the guard tower. None of them ever made it to Carol.

"Just... if we see any places like that we should look."

"I'm sure they ain't hard to make either," Daryl offered, throwing Rick a bone. "Ask Eugene, I'm sure he used to make all sorts of explosives and shit in his basement before this. He can prolly do it."

"Think so?"

Daryl gave him an incredulous look, wondering if Rick was really questioning if Eugene could make a stick that you set on fire.

"Alright," Rick nodded, leaving it at that.

…

"Eugene," Rick hollered. He broke into a trot to catch up to the mulleted man as he walked the path to the front gate.

"Rick." Eugene answered, looking like he was caught by his dad doing something he shouldn't. It was his standard look whenever Rick spoke directly to him.

"I need you to do me a favor. For the Fourth of July thing they're puttin' on." Eugene stared awkwardly at Rick with no answer so Rick continued. "You know how to make Sparklers? Like the kids wave around?"he imitated the motion with his hand to demonstrate.

"I am familiar with Sparklers, Rick. Pyrotechnic devices are my specialty, actually."

Rick swallowed a laugh at Daryl's accurate evaluation of Eugene's old world hobbies.

"So you can make 'em?"

"I'm used to something that packs a bigger punch," he explained, "but obviously that would be a miscalculation on our part, seeing as the dead seem to have an affinity for fire and explosions, that's one thing we have in common." He paused his tangent for a moment, checking off an ingredient list on his fingers. "Aluminum, charcoal...I'll have to make that, potassium chlorate...I'll have to check, but I likely have some." He turned back to Rick. " I'm sure I can work on a toned down version, as long as everyone is aware that it in no way reflects the extent of my abilities in the explosives department."

"Yea, sure. I'll spread the word once you're done. But, keep it to yourself for now."

"Yes, sir." He watched as Rick turned to leave. "Wait!" he called before Rick could make his escape.

"Yeah?"

"You want red, green or standard issue white?"

"Really?"

"Really."

Rick thought for a moment, considering whether the color would make a difference to Michonne. "Make some of each," he instructed, making sure to complete his departure this time.

…

The small celebration Aaron and Michonne had thrown together was in full swing as evening approached. The sun had blessed them with a beautiful day for the picnic style potluck and smattering of yard games that the Alexandrians had partaken in, in an attempt to recapture some of the fond summer memories of their previous lives.

It wasn't exactly hamburgers and hotdogs, but there was meat cooked on a grill, scavenged beer and even a makeshift pasta salad that Carol had thrown together. They had stopped short of decorating the lakeside spot they were gathered at, but they had collected a few lanterns from around the community and squared off the area with the flickering light, giving it a festive feel none the less.

Rick, Michonne and Daryl sat at the picnic table where she had hatched the idea for the party weeks ago. Rick was leaned back against the wooden top, one foot crossed over his knee and his arm laid across Michonne's back. Daryl was perched on the table, his booted feet on the bench next to Michonne. She was quietly admiring her work, finally relaxing with a hard earned beverage.

"You did good," Rick complemented, patting her knee that was crossed over her other and draped in a fitting blue and white striped, jersey skirt. She wore a white halter style top with it, and he admired the way her outfit choices always made these frivolous gatherings the community insisted on, turn out somewhat worthwhile.

"Thanks," she smiled, genuinely. She felt good. These little slices of happiness that they carved out of the dark and desperate world were what kept a lot of these people going, and she felt it was part of her job as a leader here to provide the morale boost. Rick gave the speeches, spurred the fighters when they needed it. She convinced the community that they had something to fight for.

She tipped her head to his shoulder, watching Carl lead little Judith by the hands as she took shaky, tentative steps around the grassy lakeside. The sun was disappearing, and in response the music and lights upped their combined effort to transform the ambiance from rowdy to intimate. Their friends and neighbors settled into smaller groups, drinking and chatting as if they were gathered on some suburban cul de sac, on any normal summer evening.

Her eyes slipped closed for a moment, conjuring the image of colorful explosions lighting up the horizon and raining glitter from the sky. Her mind started to explore what it would be like to sit next to this man on a hot summer night in the previous world and allow themselves to get lost in a quixotic display of light and sound that served no purpose but to entertain them. She opened her eyes and stared up at him, his face now shaded in the dark of night.

"What is Eugene doing?" she asked, when her eyes fell back on the crowd. She saw the odd man, bouncing from group to group leaving each huddle with a mixture of smiling mouths and questioning eyes. Rick shrugged, not verbalizing a guess. When Eugene approached their table he pulled a swath of metal sticks from behind his back, displaying them before her like a bouquet.

"Red, green, or white for the lady?" he asked.

She quirked an eyebrow at him, not having the faintest clue what he was asking until she heard a long forgotten sizzling sound erupt from the group where Carl and Glenn were standing, and spotted a wild fury of sparks dancing a furious line down the long metal stick.

Her eyes flew wide and she immediately turned toward Rick, who looked completely unfazed. "Did you do this?" she asked, taking in the slight curl of his lip as he fought a smile.

"Nah," he gestured with a wave of his hand. "That's not really in my skill set."

She smiled sweetly at him. She didn't doubt homemade fireworks weren't his forte, but convincing people to do his bidding was. She turned back to Eugene who was still displaying his work for her.

"I want the traditional white," she announced, sitting up straight with her hands clasped on her lap as she awaited her prize.

Eugene plucked one of the spikes from his hand and reached into his pocket, retrieving a lighter and tossing it to Rick. Then he dug around in the bag he had slung over his back and pulled out a plastic cup, jamming the metal into the top so it stuck out like a candle in a cake. "These aren't your typical dime store fire sticks," Eugene warned. "This here will leave a mark." He showed her how to hold the stick beneath the shelter of the cup and she nodded, impressed with the new trick.

Rick flicked open the lighter setting free it's flame, and he held it to the end of her gift watching as a puff of smoke heralded the imminent display. She jumped slightly as the sparks sprang to life, then her face lit up with joy. Rick stared at her, watching the show reflecting in her eyes as she drew imaginary pictures in the dark with her light. He was sure of all the light shows that had been presented on this day in the old world, this rivaled every one of them.