A/N It's been 84 Years! I miss you guys. I don't know why this little epilogue popped into my head, but here it is. I miss Richonne :(

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"And what did you see when you approached the building, Deputy Grimes?"

Michonne paced in front of the stand, trying not to look directly at her witness. Her witness. This was the easy part and yet…

"I saw the defendant climbing out of the window with a big bag that was later determined to be full of electronics from the back storage room."

"And was there anyone else in the building?"

"No, Ma'am."

Michonne slid a glance in his direction, spying a cocky half-smile. She cleared her throat. "And you recognized the defendant from the security footage of the other break ins?"

"That's right."

"And how could you be sure it was the same man?"

"My girlfriend tells me I have an eye for detail."

Okay, she was going to kill him. This particular judge happened to be in the dark about their relationship, she thought, but that was pure luck. He really needed to stop.

"I have no further questions, Your Honor," Michonne said, turning away from Rick and taking a seat at her table.

"Thank you, Ms. Anthony. We will break for a short recess and resume with the state's next witness after lunch." Judge King banged his gavel, and Michonne scooped up her files and bottled water and hurried out of the courtroom, refusing to look back at Rick.

When she reached the elevator to her office, her cell phone was already buzzing in her hand.

Rick: You gonna eat with me?

She tried to maintain her scowl, but even via text he was annoyingly charming. She typed back.

Michonne: I shouldn't, but fine. I'll meet you in the parking lot.

Pivoting, she moved away from the elevator and toward the side door of the courthouse that led to the shared municipal lot. Rick was standing outside of his cruiser, leaning on the hood with his arms crossed and a smile on his face that she had half a mind to wipe off.

"That was risky," she said, passing him and climbing into the passenger side.

"Come on. This is a slam dunk. Might as well have a little fun."

"You don't know that and it's on you if this slam dunk ends in a mistrial because you couldn't keep that pretty mouth shut and stop flirting."

"You liked my pretty mouth last night."

Rick climbed in behind the wheel and reached for the back of her neck. That mouth was on hers before she could say anything else. Predictably, she forgot all about being angry at him. When he pulled away, she was grinning.

"Where are you taking me?" she asked when he started the engine.

"You feel like Chinese?"

"We had Chinese two nights ago for dinner."

"Sandwiches?"

"Okay."

Rick pulled into a small deli a few blocks away from the courthouse. He got out and opened the cruiser door for Michonne.

"Hello, Deputy," the man behind the cash register said. "Ms. Anthony."

"Afternoon, Glenn." Rick took out his card and set it on the counter. "I'm gonna hit the head. You know my order." He tapped her on the butt and strode away.

Annnnd she was back to killing him.

She glanced over her shoulder at the other patrons in the restaurant, hoping no one had seen him do that. Of course, sitting at the booth in the corner was the receptionist from the Sheriff's Department. A sudden flash of memory hit her—Rick shoving her skirt up her thighs and hoisting her onto the front desk. She never did send Jessie flowers for what they'd done to her workspace. And she never seemed to find out. Now though, she was looking at her like the cat that ate the canary, so yeah, she was back to killing him.

She ordered her turkey sandwich and Rick's double steak bomb, and took a seat at a table as far away from the receptionist as she could. Rick came back moments later and planted a kiss on her cheek before she'd even seen him approach.

Their relationship was out in the open now, given her parting speech to his partner after he'd come to rescue them the morning after the snow storm. She told them to tell whomever they wanted and they'd done just that, but she was still getting used to the looks.

"You're doing that thing again," Rick said, unwrapping his sandwich.

"What thing?"

"The thing where you case the joint whenever we go somewhere together during the day. I thought we were past this?"

He dropped her gaze and she could tell the body language she was exhibiting was hurting his feelings. "Did Jessie ever ask about her desk?"

"Nah. I straightened it all up before she got in the next day."

"Maybe we just need to set some ground rules."

"Ground rules?" Now he was chuckling and she kicked him under the table.

"Yes. Like don't slap my ass when you're in uniform and I'm dressed for court."

He blushed. "Okay. That's fair."

"And no sly comments on the witness stand."

He took a bite of his sandwich and chewed before replying. "No fun, but also fair. What else?"

Michonne thought for a moment, but nothing else came to mind. "I reserve the right to update the rules as new events dictate."

"Yes, Ma'am."

"And don't call me Ma'am."

"I'm pretty sure I should when we're in court."

"Fine. But outside of court, knock it off."

Rick laughed and glanced at her untouched food, reminding her their lunch had to be a short one.

…

"The jury finds the defendant guilty on all counts."

The foreman read the verdict and Michonne stifled an enthusiastic "yes" under a pretend cough and pumped her fist under her desk. After shaking hands with the other attorneys and thanking a few of her witnesses, she gathered her things and made her way to her office, dialing Rick on the way.

He picked up after one ring. "Deputy Grimes."

"It's me."

"Oh, hey. Sorry, I didn't even look at the caller ID."

"I just wanted to tell you we won! Guilty on all counts. That jerk is going away for five to seven."

"That's great, babe. Congratulations. I knew you had it."

Michonne beamed to herself, alone in the elevator. "Well, like you said, it was a slam dunk. But I'm still happy."

"It might have been, but only because you're the best A.D.A. in town."

"You're biased."

"Will you let me compliment you?" he groaned.

Michonne laughed. "You're right. I'm the best."

"So celebrate with me tonight. I'm off in an hour. Come down to the bar and have a drink. I promise not to slap your ass."

"Just promise me you won't do it at the bar. I'm not ruling it out for the rest of the night."

"All the more incentive. I know all our co-workers will be there so we can play it however you want."

"Okay. I'll meet you there in an hour."

She hung up with Rick and went to her office, shrugging off her blazer as soon as she shut the door. She kept jeans in a bag in her closet for impromptu invites like this, and she changed quickly, unbuttoning the blouse she'd been wearing until it looked after hours appropriate. She fluffed her hair and reapplied some lip gloss, then slid her black stilettos back on. It wasn't a flats kind of night.

When she walked into the bar down the street from the courthouse, Rick was already there. He was still in his uniform and maybe it was just the celebratory mood, but her stomach fluttered.

"Hey," he said, flagging her over to the bar. He slung an arm around her shoulder but noticeably kept his lips to himself. She pouted a little, before admonishing herself. She was the one who gave him that idea, but they were with Dixon and Abe and she'd already told them exactly where she and Rick stood. In fact, there was no one in that bar that she gave a damn saw her kiss Rick. She said hello to his friends then turned to him, snuggling against his chest.

He finally kissed the top of her head, but it was way too chaste for her liking.

"Congratulations again," he said, grinning.

"Thanks."

"You want a drink?"

"Of course."

Rick ordered them each a cocktail, then pulled out a stool for her to sit on. He took the spot behind her, setting his arm on the back of her chair instead of her shoulder. She pouted again.

"Is there a reason you're not touching me? I was expecting a bigger celebration."

Rick shook his head and ran a hand over his face. "'Chonne, I swear to God you are the most infuriating woman I have ever met."

"Excuse me?"

"At lunch you were giving me ground rules, now you're asking me why I'm not touching you."

"Well excuse me if I think the way we act in court should be different than the way we act in a bar full of cops."

"See now there's another rule. Can you print them out or something? Make index cards?"

"You're a cop! You're supposed to like rules."

"I like order. There is no order here. It's whatever you feel at the moment. You're a lawyer, aren't you supposed to like precedent?"

"Jesus, they're at it again." Michonne turned to see Abe Ford behind her, snickering into a pint of beer. "I thought when you two started screwing around, we wouldn't have to listen to this anymore."

"We're not screwing around!" They both shouted at him in unison and then looked at each other. Michonne bit her bottom lip to keep from laughing and Rick's scowl turned into something else that she liked much better. Suddenly, he spun her stool to face him and cupped her face. He kissed her hard and she remembered why she liked fighting with him so much.

"Let's go," he said. "We're moving this celebration to my place where I make the rules."

Michonne took another sip of her drink then hopped down from the stool. She slid her hand into his as Rick tossed a couple of bills onto the bar.

Abe shook his head and cackled.

"And it's still none of your business," she said, poking him in the chest before following after Rick.