Author's Notes: This one took me a while to work out the characters in pre-ZA, especially with Michonne so bear with me. I pieced together bits of her from interviews with Danai and some little details Michonne has dropped in the comics. Sorry for any typos and unfinished thoughts.

Days like this made him feel ill, there were never days like this until now. Rick watched the dashboard when he should have been watching the road. Carl was in the backseat looking outside at the cars that sped past theirs. Everyone was going so fast, going faster than him but it was to be expected, they were on the way to the city. They were headed towards Atlanta, the buildings were getting closer, Rick's hands were beginning to shake. With each turn he took he only used his left hand as he nervously began to tap his knuckles on the dashboard. Carl looked on curiously.

"I like the city," he smiled noticing his father was looking troubled. "Maybe you should ask Mom if you could spend the night."

Rick bit his lower lip and looked at the rearview mirror, placing both hands back on the steering wheel.

"Now Carl—"

"I know I know," groaned his son, he knew he should have kept his lips sealed.

"Carl, things aren't like that anymore."

"Dad I know. I didn't mean you have to sleep in the same bed."

The light turned red, the people walked in front of his car. They were busy on their cellphones, busy with their own lives but he couldn't help noticing that they all just looked like a herd of cows crossing the pasture. Rick rubbed his forehead and forced a weak smile as he turned around and pet Carl's head.

"Things are changing, it ain't all bad. Hell, it could have been a lot worse," it was worse, it felt worse. Rick felt like he was pouring honey over the real truth but he couldn't possibly tell his son how heartbroken he really was about all of this. He would be glad to have seen that marriage counselor, they just couldn't afford it but given the look on Lori's face when she suggested it, it was just a half-assed effort to tell him that it wasn't over when it really was. "Me and your mom are still on speaking terms, shit, most of my friends that have divorced don't even have that. You should be glad."

"Dad I'm not."

"Well," Rick choked back on his tears, "We'll just have to adjust."

A few wrong turns later Rick had finally found Lori's place. She had been living in the suburbs, it was nice little house, not too different than theirs. When he knocked on the door, he started to wonder how she had gotten it in the first place. He saw her silhouette approaching from behind a golden light coming from what he could make out to be the kitchen. The door opened and Rick nervously placed his hand on Carl's head. Carl looked up at him and then his mother, the air immediately grew thick as Lori bat her eyes looking at the both of them. She smiled as she wiped her hands on a towel.

"Carl," she knelt down and embraced him, he coldly returned the hug and walked right in. Both her and Rick awkwardly greeted each other before she led him inside.

"Wow this is a nice place."

"Oh it's isn't mine."

"What?"

"'Yeah. Well," she returned to the kitchen to place the towel on the granite counter and tucked her hands into her pockets. "I house-sit. This place belongs to my uncle, he told me he'd pay me while he was away, I feed the dogs, keep the house clean…you know…boring stuff. He said if I did a good enough job he'd recommend me to other people in this neighborhood. They're all real close-nit so maybe I can save up enough money for a place of my own."

"Lori you know I can help you some? You didn't even have to move out, I could have."

"Rick, hush that's nonsense," she motioned for him to calm down. "I have a stable situation for Carl."

Carl had been looking around the house and stopped dead in his tracks when he heard his parents discussing him like he wasn't in the room with them. He shut his eyes and went on a journey to search for the bathroom, when he passed through several open doors he finally found it. Plush carpets and nicely folded towels, he realized he wasn't in his home, he was in a hotel. He shut the door behind him and locked the door hoping to stop the muffled argument from going on. Sometimes he'd like to pretend it wasn't really happening, that they were just strangers, these people weren't his parents and they weren't talking about him like he was dead weight. His dad had the best intentions; Carl knew that, it was just an endless cycle with them. As he went through the drawers, he found all sorts of ointments and toothpastes and magazines, he thought of the dead end that was his mother's heart. He hated it. Sometimes he found himself hating her, but he could never hate her all the way. Her soft eyes overlooking him as she'd adjust his clothing and stroke his hair, her affections made it confusing, he wasn't sure who to blame anymore.

"Carl, Carl?"

He could hear his father's boots against the wooden floor get closer to his door. He knocked gently. "Yeah dad I'm busy," he muttered as he tried to shut the drawers without making too much noise.

"I'm leaving."

"Why," it just slipped, Carl didn't mean to sound so desperate to keep his father around but his voice cracked and was needy, almost childlike. Carl hated sounding like a kid.

"What's going on," Lori approached Rick looking confused.

"He asked why," Rick ran his hand through his hair, the veins on his forehead looking apparent through his skin.

"You're still wearing the ring. God damnit Rick," she pointed at the white gold wedding ring that glistened in the dim lighting of the hallway. "I don't like you going home alone. Maybe you need to stay."

For that brief moment Rick's eyes looked the brightest she had seen in a long time, it made her heart sink to her very toes. There was hope there, hope for reconciliation. But regretfully there was no hope left in her anymore, she was exhausted but she was also excited at the prospect of a new life. There was a light at the end of the tunnel. She was free to live how she wanted to live, not to be just another housewife miserable in that town, miserable in his arms. There was the strongest love for him, it was very much present but she knew better than him that they just didn't fit the way they should. She stroked his face and smiled.

"Really," his lips quivered.

She was going to have to slowly wean him off, she wanted him to stand on his own two feet, it was the most humane way of handling things. "Yeah Rick. There's enough room for you here just for the night,"

"Okay…okay. Did you hear Carl?"

"Yeah. Now go away."

Rick smiled and breezed past Lori with blatant optimism in his walk.

The hours had passed by blissfully, everything felt like it used to. Rick found himself back in familiar territory; they had eaten a dinner cooked by Lori when Carl had kept on begging for pizza the entire time. It was beyond two adults being civil, Rick actually genuinely felt like they were on the same page for once. Words had gotten between them, Rick never did have a way with them regretfully. When he helped wash the dishes he began to get ready for bed. Completing the routine Rick found himself calling Shane when he just couldn't sleep.

"Get out of there Rick, clear your head," Shane's voice sounded so concerned that it was contagious, his once certainty was now shaken. "It's just not going to happen, she'll pull you in and she'll fucking leave you behind like she's done a million times before."

"No…but she told me to stay. Carl wanted me to stay and so did she. We had a great dinner and I think she actually smiled and she smiled at me, Shane. She smiled at me, I hadn't seen that smile in such a long time. "

"I gotta tell you somethin' Rick and promise me you won't knock me over the head next time you see me?"

"N-No I'd never do that Shane, you're my best friend, man."

"In these past few years, when I'd see you two together, that smile of hers…I know when things ain't real, and that smile just wasn't cutting it. She was unhappy, it wasn't some new event that smacked you in the face, it was always there, man. If you're saying what I think you're saying and you're saying that that smile felt real—"

"Yeah?"

"She's just happy because she ain't with you anymore."

Rick grew silent. He was in the guest bedroom when he should have been in the master bedroom with Lori. It suddenly all became so obvious, he felt stupid. He could hear Shane on the other side of the line licking his lips anxiously.

"You still have that ring? ….Rick, brother, you still wearing that ring?"

"Y-yeah?"

"You still wearing it?"

"N-no you think I'm stupid," Rick forced a laugh but it didn't fool Shane one bit.

"Take that stupid thing off bud. Just take it off and go out for a drink. Shit if I could go there, I'd join you."

"You'll be there in spirit right?"

"Yeah. Get in that car of yours tomorrow and get back home safe."

"Right. I will. I think I need to work, it's the only thing that takes my mind off of this…mess."

"I'd say something about fish in the sea but I don't want to have you as my competition."

"Shut up."

"Those baby blues of yours will have them falling on their knees."

"We'll just stop it there okay," finally a genuine laugh escaped his lips, Shane felt glad to hear it.

Rick snuck out of his room, the door to the master bedroom was closed and the light was off. He lingered for a few seconds not entirely knowing why. Some part of him hoped the door was open but the better part of him knew it had been closed long ago.

The drive back into the city served some purpose of clearing his mind. The lights of the city kept on reflecting off his ring constantly reminding him that it was still there. Still he drove around with no purpose, only keeping an eye on street lights and one way streets. Eventually he found himself parked in front of a bar, it was the only normal looking bar he could find. It was located at a street corner, a fair amount of cars were parked there and the people standing outside looked friendly enough. He swallowed his pride and got out of his car.

When he sat down there was some cheesy 80s rock song playing loudly on a jukebox. It wasn't recognizable from how distorted it was, he just ordered his drink and kept to himself in a room full of lively conversations. Out of all of them one in particular was the loudest, at his periphery he could see a group of people laughing, all he could make out were business suits of grey and brown.

"Look look, I-I'm telling you…the woman is almost done with her fucking degree and she still don't know the difference between her head and her ass. She's always saying bullshit and I'm the one who has to call her bullshit, because that's who I am."

"Amen," another person concurred.

"And I will continue doing that…until she sees the error of her ways. You can't just pretend like you know it all and expect to learn a thing or two. People need to open their minds and be a hell of a lot nicer because if you ask me, they're going nowhere then. Just wasted potential."

"You can be cruel sometimes Michonne," one of her coworkers slurred. "You're such a bitch."

"Hah a bitch…why because I put people in their place?"

"Yeah, Emily is fucking hot and you're just a jealous bitch."

"I'm her boss, looks have nothing to do with it. Now the day you learn how to handle your liquor, is the day you can call me a bitch."

Some of her coworkers clapped and the others remained silent, almost as if they were agreeing. She sadly sat back and took a swig of her beer. Women in the workplace… they were always called bitches, she mused as she unbuttoned her blazer. Everyone always said it was a bad idea to take out your subordinates but there she was lonely with nothing to do, no one to ask out. She had worked all her life and she saw herself rise up the ladder until her name was on the sign of the firm. There was nothing to show for it except more responsibilities and a bigger paycheck, a month into this good news she realized there wasn't much good in it. It didn't help that they never seemed to take her seriously. Not everyone, but it was the awful people that helped ruin her day.

When the shock blew over, they had begun their own conversations. It was then when she caught sight of a man sitting alone at the bar.

The prospect of meeting someone new sparked something she thought had been lost in her. He didn't look from around there, in fact there was a sadness in his posture. She couldn't imagine why but instead of thinking too far ahead she stood up and left her coworkers arguing about whether Kristen Stewart was a whore or not.

"Hey," she smiled at Rick taking a seat next to him. "You mind if…"

"Oh no its alright," he looked up at her briefly and gestured with his hands.

"Not about me sitting next to you, let me finish. I was going to ask if you minded having a conversation with me?"

He laughed nervously, his blue eyes darting about until they rested on his hands. "Of course not," he took a drink and placed the beer on the counter, it was feeling light.

"Those people are a bunch of idiots. I don't know why I thought it was a good idea to go out with people who I spend practically my whole day with."

"I go out with my friends all the time," Rick forced a smile, but his tired eyes told another story. "M-my coworkers."

"Well where they at?"

"Back at home, I'm a sheriff's deputy and all the guys just like to get together and you know…do what guys do."

"Oh, "her eyes fluttered, "You fight crime? I'm a lawyer."

"Well fuck," Rick chuckled and covered his face, he was getting flushed already, "I've had my fill with lawyers."

"C'mon we're not all bad," she gently nudged him flirtatiously. She was taken aback when she saw his ring finger and leaned her head against her arm with her hand over her mouth trying to conceal her disappointment. Her eyes grew less bright but the idea of going back to her earlier seat didn't seem so great. Instead she continued her conversation. He looked nice, he had an adorable accent, a dark blue buttoned up shirt that only served to bring out his eyes and something else she couldn't quite grasp was making her want to stick around. "What city you live in?"

"Hmm? King County."

"I'm from here…boring right?"

"No, not at all. Sometimes I'd trade in my childhood in the country for being a kid in the city."

"You seen a lot of horses in your days?"

"Drive past them every day."

"Except today right?"

"Nope, drove past some this morning.

"So you haven't been here long. What brings you here?"

Rick paused and licked his lips. "Unfinished business, I guess."

"You have a mistress in the city," Michonne muffled her laughter.

"Mistress? What," Rick's eyes widened.

"I'm just kidding," she pointed at his ring finger with her expressive eyes looking large and dark brown, Rick found himself feeling enamored of them. "You're married."

"N-No. I thought my comment about lawyers was me being obvious. I guess not. No. I'm not married, I just can't seem to take it off. It's a habit of mine."

"Marriage is a nasty habit."

"Yeah. I don't know. Well, it was nice while it lasted."

"You should stop wearing that or else some girls won't want to kiss you then…then again some might."

"Girls kissing me? Hell, they've never wanted to before."

"Hmm," she flashed him sultry eyes and looked away with a wide smile on her soft full lips. Rick almost caught on to her mischievous look; she was so mysterious to him. He couldn't quite get a grasp on her. Her fingertips traced paths across the smooth counter suggestively, sending Rick thoughts that weren't entirely clean. "I miss the little things you know. Being alone isn't always so great," she stared off but then quickly zoned back when the bartender walked by. "Two more of these, thanks," she handed him money, and he handed her two beers, one which Michonne slid Rick's way. Rick caught it and smiled at her. "I miss the thrill and the affection."

"I miss stealing kisses," Rick cut in, "or waking up in the middle of the night thinking it was all a dream or something. But when I get up off my ass and look in the mirror, there's a tint of lipstick on my lips." He ran his thumb across his lip and shut his eyes in an attempt to seal the wound. Michonne caught on quickly and reassuringly rubbed her shoulder against his before she leaned into his ear.

"You're out of luck then. I'm just wearing chapstick."

The corner of his lip turned upwards, his eyes still remained closed as his hands were firmly wrapped around his beer bottle. Michonne rested her chin on his shoulder briefly forgetting physical boundaries. "Who on earth would want to leave someone like you," her voice sounded like rough sandpaper but it wasn't all that bad.

"I'm not a victim."

"Never said that."

"I'm just awful at opening my mouth. I was lucky, real lucky to have gotten her, it's just when I got her…I didn't know what to do next."

"You fuck that's what you do," giggled Michonne, he looked at her in surprise. She covered her mouth in apology and realized it was time she should sober up a little. "I get you. You don't know what you do so you just rise up the ranks in work right? You're pretty high up there is that right?"

"Work was how I got away from it all."

"Good for you then." There was that look again on Rick's face, this time it confused her. "Did I say something wrong again?"

"N-No," he shook his head side to side and undid a button on his shirt. "I'm just not used to hearing someone say that."

"Why? Work isn't all that bad. At least you were doing something, I work to keep my mind off things"

"Yeah."

Michonne bit her lips as if she were trying to hold something back, instead she went off on another tangent. "And if it's not work that I do, I like to sit on my bed and play my guitar."

"Oh you play?"

"Used to be in a riot girl band when I was in college."

"Riot girl?"

"Ah yeah you know like Sleater-Kinney, Bikini Kill, women's rights and shit. It was a great scene you know," out of habit she took another drink out of her beer. "I felt like I was really doing something, but there were bad crowds and little by little we started switching out band members until everyone just got a job or decided to study more. We didn't necessarily make it big."

"I've never heard," Rick suddenly felt a little insecure that he wasn't so worldly.

"What girl didn't want to be a rock star? Most girls are split in two; they are either born wanting to kiss the rock star or born wanting to become them, I think I was born being both," her eyes stared off, the whites of them turning a light pink but there was a glazed look in them. They were so deep and beautiful, Rick felt himself getting sucked in. She kept on talking but he found it hard to keep track of what exactly she was saying, his eyes traveled from her eyes, to her nose, to her lips. She was stunning, he was surprised he couldn't catch this from his peripheries, or why he was too scared to look at her straight in the eyes. "All my boyfriends would at some point call me a male hating feminist. Feminism has nothing to do with hating men, it's about human rights," she turned to him just to realize he wasn't all there. "We're all on the same boat."

"Oh yeah yeah," Rick blinked quickly and licked his lips, returning back to his present state.

"Your marriage going to shit…I really doubt it was all your fault."

"You don't know that," somberly Rick lowered his head and rubbed his eyes.

"Hey," she smiled, "You want to get out of here?"

"And go where?"

"Anywhere."

"I don't know this city very well."

"Doesn't matter."

Rick wasn't quite grasping what she was trying to say. By then Michonne had already decided that even if everything he was feeding her was absolute bullshit, that he really was a married man, she just didn't care. She was already taken by him even if it was just for moment.

"I'm alright being here," spoke Rick looking the other way at the jukebox where two of Michonne's coworkers had begun to drunkenly wrestle. Michonne watched him looking confused, she wasn't sure if he wasn't getting it or if she had read him all wrong. She had her A game on, by now he should have said yes. He should have been saying yes a billion times. Then she concluded it must have been a self esteem thing, he just didn't seem aware of how good looking he was.

"No you're not," she flashed him her bedroom eyes as she stroked his forearm. He turned back towards her with a dumbfounded look on his pretty face, then looked down at her soft hand. Her eyes were knowing, she licked her lips and leaned towards his. The contact sent a rush of sensations down his spine, nothing was familiar about her and he took a liking to it. He gasped when she broke the kiss, he missed her flesh and she lit a desire in him for more. The look on her face drove him mad, she was so aware of the effect she had on him, so confident. Rick chuckled in disbelief; there was a light finally behind his eyes.

"You get me now," she cooed as she climbed off the stool, holding onto her messenger bag. She offered Rick her hand and for the first time in a long time Rick felt he may have had a future after all of this mess. They both walked hand in hand through an already open door, the cold air rushing in.

"What are we fucking doing? I never even asked your name," Rick laughed as they stood underneath a streetlight. Michonne kicked one foot and then another and adjusted her skirt.

"I can't handle being on my feet for too long."

"What's your name," Rick pressed on, the laugh fading from his broken voice.

"Ah well," her cheeks looked flushed as she brushed her hair aside. She cocked one eyebrow and lifted her gaze to his. She tried to think of a made up name but her tongue slipped ahead of her brain, "Uh…. The name's Michonne."

Shit.