"They say bachelors have all the fun. Not so. You just get old and full of sand, nasty.

― Stephen King, The Stand

Ten things that made Michonne different:

She wasn't his normal type. Brunettes, blondes, and occasional redheads. Never in his life had he been so intrigued with darker skin and dreads.

She wasn't enamored with him. He had asked her out on numerous occasions and she turned him down as if the thought was highly amusing or equally repulsive.

She wasn't easily impressed. She drove the top of the line Benz and could easily afford a Bentley if she wanted one. She didn't want one.

She was very smart. Her IQ was one reason she was on the fast track at Harvard Law. She was smarter than him.

She was very secure. If a person had a problem with her it was not her problem-It just was not her problem.

She was very well known in his circle, professionally only. She was highly regarded, and yet he didn't know her personally. It was like they were dealt a hand of almost meeting but never quite face to name and vice versa.

She wasn't talkative. What could be summed up in few words would. She spoke plain to avoid any confusion. No, was extremely popular in her vocabulary.

She had never been married. She had two reasons why she hadn't married and that was because there wasn't a clean dick to be found and if there was-the fool would fuck it up and become a dirty dick. In layman terms she never found a man who could keep it in his pants and remain faithful long enough to make it down the aisle to happily ever after.

She didn't have any children. She had her reasons but she never vocalized them and her maternal clock had not started ticking to cause her to be hyper aware that she better start planning. She didn't even know if she wanted children.

She was Michonne...she caused The Death Of A Bachelor.

A/N: No infidelity...well no one is married in this story. Not in real sequential order. My brain hurts when I try to tell a story in order so this may make your brain hurt too. Proceed with Caution.

I like stories in pie slices. I hate doing 5k words even though I could do it. I just hate reading stories like that and if you don't like pie slices or cake slices or sliced brownies avoid me and this story and some of my others. Not all of my crazy stories are like this but...lol. When I write like this you know there's more to come...boom boom boom.