A/N: Some fellow shippers were bummed by Danai's recent interview and how she kept referring to Rick as Michonne's friend; yes, this is true. Right now Richonne are friends, but friendships change all the time. Friendships also end in love all the time! So please my dear shipmates, don't let this get you down. Here's a little something to get you all through this hiatus!

Disclaimer: I do not own The Walking Dead, but if I did, this is what would happen…

You're my bread when I'm hungry

You're my shelter from troubled winds

You're my anchor in life's ocean

But most of all you're my best friend*

The group of Alexandrian residents stood in shock as a blood-covered Rick Grimes shot Pete Anderson and ended his life; the gasps of surprise were drowned out by the loud ringing in Rick's ears and his heart racing. He then heard his name being called; he looked to see Morgan standing with an expression of disbelief on his face. Rick said nothing as he tried to process what was happening.

Michonne stepped forward to a grief stricken Deanna who was still hunched over her dead husband's body. She squatted down beside the woman and placed her hand at her shoulder while reaching the other to Maggie; Maggie knew what she wanted and handed over the knife.

"Deanna?" she spoke softly. "Is Rick allowed to stay?"

The woman was sobbing and running her fingers over her husband's face; she then looked to Michonne with pain and anguish in her tear-filled eyes.

"Is he allowed to stay?" she asked, louder this time.

Deanna nodded her head and then spoke in a shaky voice, "Rick Grimes stays."

Michonne nodded and then glanced at Rick who was still standing and staring at Morgan; Jessie Anderson did not move as she stared down at her dead husband's gunshot wound. The other residents averted their gaze and watched on in horror and incredulity.

"You all heard that? Rick stays, now go on home all of you!" Michonne ordered before turning her attention back to Deanna. "I'm sorry. Please, look away. We have to make sure he doesn't come back."

Deanna turned her head while Michonne lifted Reg's and drove the knife into the back of his skull. She then stood up, cleaned the knife on her pants leg before giving it back to Maggie and walking over to Rick. She looked at Morgan who called Rick's name once more; Rick did not answer. He was unable to move from where he was standing as his past, it seemed, had really caught up with him this time. Michonne looked at Daryl.

"Get this man settled," she said to Daryl and Aaron. "He can see Rick tomorrow."

Michonne then took Rick's hand and led him away from the scene; she left her sword there.

xXxXx

They walked quickly in silence, still holding onto each other's hand when they finally reached their home. Rick was still in a daze as so many thoughts were running through his mind; her presence was the only thing that seemed to calm him and the sea of emotions that were crashing over him. Seeing his old friend brought back memories of when he had first awoken into the world of shit; knowing his old friend had just witnessed him shoot a man dead left him feeling something indescribable. He gripped Michonne's hand a little tighter.

Michonne noticed that the front door had been tampered with and she felt her heart sink as she remembered; Pete Anderson had broken into their home, no doubt looking for Rick, and stolen her sword which he then inadvertently killed Reg with. She left Rick standing in their living room then went and checked on the children. Her heart was in her throat as she neared Carl's room and opened the door. The children were in bed and Carl was snoring softly; Michonne exhaled and felt the tears run down her face. It must have taken Rick a moment to realize the implications of what had just occurred because he came bounding frantically up the stairs a moment later.

"They're fine," Michonne whispered breathlessly as she saw the melancholy in Rick's distraught face.

Rick let out a relieved breath and then leaned against the doorframe.

"I didn't even realize," he said softly; his voice hoarse. "Thank you."

"Come on," Michonne offered as she wiped her tears away. "Let's get you cleaned up."

They made their way downstairs to the kitchen and Michonne had Rick take a seat at the table while she filled a dish with warm, soapy water. The dish sat on the tabletop next to the first aid kit and a clean washcloth. Michonne pulled up a chair and sat directly in front of Rick; her legs in between his and their thighs resting against one another. They both stared at each other for what seemed like an eternity before Michonne brushed a stray curl from his forehead and reached for the cloth and dipped it into the bowl.

Michonne cupped Rick's jaw with one hand as she gently and cautiously wiped away the walker blood from his face trying not to let any seep into his wounds. As she cleared a section of blood, she carefully removed the bandages from his lacerations. Rick winced slightly as she got to his nose; although he did not once take his eyes off of her while she worked in silence.

Rick sighed loudly as he finally had his thoughts in order; Michonne had that calming effect on him where she always, unwittingly or not, had a way to persuade Rick to see things clearly.

"I fucked up. All of this is my fault," he said softly as she stopped her ministrations and caught his gaze.

"This place just brought up so many memories and regrets for me; I couldn't handle it. Let it all get to me. Lost sight of why we came here." Rick explained.

Michonne nodded in understanding.

"Yes, you did; I'm glad you see it now. As for this place, I felt the same about Woodbury, even though I knew it wasn't what it seemed. I guess part of me just couldn't handle anything that looked like life before. I get what you're sayin'; regret is a terrible thing," she said plaintively.

"Seeing Morgan again just woke me up to the fact that what was confusin' me and messin' with my head so much, the life that I was dwelling on, was gone. That life is gone. I knew that when I first met him and then when we saw him later. How we were, it's gone," Rick offered before thinking about what Michonne had just said.

"You don't feel that way anymore? Regretful?" he asked, as he tilted his head to the left.

"Yeah; I feel that way every day in some way or another. I don't know if that will ever change. I just realize that regretting the way things turned out for me; all of the shit I've been through and the shit I've done, it doesn't change anything. This right here, this is our lives now. I've come to accept it. That's what I focus on. That's what gets me through; taking things day-by-day."

Rick searched her face and marvelled at her tenacity; her gaze, which at times could be downright intimidating, was soft and gentle as Rick noticed something behind her stare. He nodded his head.

"You're right. God, you're always right. Does it ever get old, being right all the time?" he asked with a small, playful grin.

Michonne beamed at him and chortled.

"Nope! Not really," She replied with a smile.

Michonne dipped the washcloth into the water and finished cleaning Rick's face; they fell into a comfortable silence again. She cupped his chin and used her hand to turn Rick's head to each side; inspecting her handiwork; satisfied that he was clean enough. She ensured that his face was dried before applying fresh bandages; she then did the same to his hand.

Rick felt his skin tingle, not from his abrasions, but from her touch. Being so close to her, being face-to-face with her and having her touch him so intimately left Rick feeling something he had not felt for someone other than his children in some time; adoration. The tenderness in her eyes caused his heart to flutter; being so close that he could admire her beauty made his stomach do little flips. As they sat alone in the kitchen of what was now their home and Michonne took care of him like no others had; both mentally and physically, Rick came to the realization that his regard for her had changed. He wondered if there was going to be a shift in their friendship; he would certainly welcome it.

"All done," Michonne said with a smile as she took up the bowl, cloth and backing strips of the new bandages and what was left of the old ones.

She went to the laundry room, washed the cloth and bowl and discarded the soiled dressings. She also removed her uniform and tie and threw on a tank top that was on an airing rack while kicking off her boots.

"Toss me your shirt and socks," she called out and Rick quickly removed it and threw it to her to put in the wash with her own.

When she returned to the kitchen, Rick was sitting shirtless atop the kitchen table replacing the contents of the first aid kit; he set it down as she approached.

"Thanks for this," Rick said as Michonne stood in front of him.

"It's nothing," she offered modestly.

"You didn't have to," Rick replied.

"Well, I did kind of have to, I mean, you're my best friend," Michonne said with a small smile, trying not to take in his state of undress.

Rick raised his eye brows at her and then stood; there was practically no space between them. He tentatively reached his hand to her face and gently stroked her cheek; Michonne remained still and tried to steady her breathing. Rick's other hand found her waist as he drew her closer still; he ran his hand down her neck and over her shoulder as his thumb traced her collarbone softly. He then trailed his fingers down her bare arm and lifted her hand to his chest. He ran his thumb over her fingers as she felt his heart beating underneath them; they never broke their gaze.

"You're my best friend, too," Rick whispered.

He then leaned in slowly as Michonne let her eyes close in anticipation; all of the stress and worries from the day fell away into oblivion as their lips met in a soft kiss that was soon deepened. Their lips and tongues lapped at one another as Michonne threw her arms over Rick's shoulders and he lifted her from the floor before turning and placing her down on the table top. She wrapped her legs around Rick's waist while his mouth nipped at the skin on her elegant neck.

Rick pulled away as he caught the hem of Michonne's top and drew it over her head; he then unclasped her bra and freed her breasts. Their bare chests came together as they hungrily kissed again; Michonne scooted herself closer to Rick and ground her hips, feeling his desire pressing against hers. Rick fumbled with her belt buckle and zipper while he tried to remove her jeans. They were stopped by a rapping at the front door; Rick shook his head but Michonne used hers to gesture for him to see who it was.

"I'm gonna need a minute," Rick offered as he tried to get the stiffness in his pants to subside.

"Who is it?" he finally called out.

"Maggie," came the muffled reply.

He helped Michonne find her shirt as she fixed her jeans and shifted from off of the table; they both made their way into the living room while Rick answered the door. Maggie noticed he was shirtless and that they both looked flustered, so she immediately felt awkward.

"Sorry to bother y'all. I was just bringin' this back to Michonne," she offered as she handed the katana over to Rick.

Michonne walked over and took it from him.

"Thanks, Maggie," she offered. "How's it goin' over there?"

"Not great, but I think we'll be fine. What about y'all?" she asked looking from Rick to Michonne.

They glanced at one another and Rick nodded.

"Yeah, we're good."

"Okay, well I'll leave you two to it and see you tomorrow," said Maggie as she backed out of the door.

…..

Once Maggie had left and they were alone once more, Michonne sheathed her sword and placed it on the floor leaning against the wall; Rick watched her and wondered if their moment of passion had passed and if they were going to return to being friends. As if to answer his unasked question, Michonne turned and walked over to Rick; she ran her fingers through his hair and then caught his mouth in a kiss. She then took him by the hand and led him up the stairs. There was, he soon realized, definitely a shift in their friendship as Michonne straddled his lap and eased her eager body down onto his length. This was a shift that they both welcomed.

A/N: This is how I imagined the SF would have gone.

*You're My Best Friend by Don Williams