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8/9 mos.


"Look at you… Gotdamn, Chonne, you are so fucking beautiful, and nasty! Mmmmm…" I gasp, admiring the indulgent sight of my lover, my wife.


"You like that, Deputy?"


"Fuck! Yes, I love that shit, baby." I growl, voice dripping with hints of pleasure and pain.


Reclined on the living room couch, shirtless, pants around my ankles, I'm watching my wife's plump lips and wet mouth, suck and swallow my entire cock down her throat. I'm sweating profusely, head pounding. It's not from the smothering density of this hot summer day in Virginia. No. It's from my wife. This otherworldly sex goddess kneeling in between my widespread legs, is completely commanding me with her naughty mouth, the snug twist of her fists around my dick, and the twirl of her tongue bathing the tip. She owns me, every part of me. For the past few weeks her libido has heightened to a peak that even I am finding hard to keep up with. God knows I'm enjoying every moment of trying, and as a result she has incited a surge of virility in me that I wasn't aware that a man in his 40s could possess.


Looking up at me, her large dark eyes are seducing me just as much as her mouth is. The shadow of her feathery eyelashes circling those deep pools make her appear innocent, coy and gentle, but right now she's anything but. With her voluminous dusky locs thrown over to one side, sweeping over her delicate shoulder, and cascading down her breasts, I'm truly hypnotized. What began as an innocent afternoon of reading through a baby name book, preparing for the imminent arrival of our boys, who are still nameless, quickly turned into Michonne trying to convince me to accept a truly heinous name like Mathias, using mostly her mouth as her means of persuasion. Right now, as she's moving lower to lick from my balls to the tip of my shaft, I've forgotten my own name, and would easily allow her to call me Mathias, that's how exquisite the torture is.


I'm sucking in air in thin quick pants, attempting to prolong the decadence of her oral exploration, not wanting to cum too quickly. But, she knows what I like, and as soon as my dick is released from her lips, dripping with her saliva from the slow pull of her lascivious mouth, I know she's in a teasing mood, and I'm done for. Now sitting up, a frown quickly covers my face, evidencing my displeasure at her stopping.


Never breaking eye contact, she demurely rubs her elegant fingers over her lips. "Have I been bad, Deputy? Should you punish me for stopping?" She asks in the sweetest, most innocent voice, dripping with the carnal knowledge that I love this. The naughty games she plays. I love this sexy, nasty, playful, powerful goddess. How she provokes me, commands my moods, my body, my mind.


Puckering her mouth in a juicy wet pout, she lowers her head again, but not to my cock. Licking up my left thigh, nuzzling her face into my pubic hair, I can hear her moans of pleasure as she saturates my groin with the wetness of her tongue, seductive little nibbles, and then the feeling of tight suction to my inner thigh. I can smell her arousal. Keen familiarity with my Michonne lets me know that she is as turned on by giving me head, as I am to receive it. I know she's dripping wet right now, and the thought has my cock painfully erect, nudging my abdomen, red and swollen with need for her. Weeping tiny pearlescent drops of pre-cum, my cock is poised for her greedy mouth to feast on me again, and finish me off.


Lazily running up from my groin and down my chest, the light fairy like touch of her fingers flutters through the thickness of my pubic hair and the sprinkle of hair on my chest, leaving behind a soft tickling sensation. Tightly wound with arousal, needing some relief, I grab my cock at the base with my right hand, attempting to relieve some of the excitement she's inciting in me.


Reaching out towards her with my left hand I gather a handful of her locs that have fallen over her face, into her eyes, and gently raise her head from my lap. Worrying her bottom lip with her teeth, defiance in her eyes, she teases me again, "Is there a problem, Deputy?"


Slowly shaking my head, unable to speak, I move my cock to her plush lips, and rub my arousal across them, leaving behind the sticky evidence of how far her titillation has gone. The sight of which threatens to force my immediate climax, the contrast exciting me immensely. But, I'm holding back. If she will let me, I want to come in her mouth, bathe her throat with my essence. Mark her with my scent.


"Mmmm. Thank you, Deputy." She moans in appreciation, closing her eyes to me, and laving the fluid from her lips. Slowly she parts her lips, and again takes me deep into the back of her mouth, where I can feel the contractions of her throat over my tip. Still firmly grasping a handful of her locs, I'm greedily guiding her mouth up and down, the suction of which is sending dazzling heat from my groin to my limbs. Blinding pleasure is now soothing the pounding in my head, but the pace of my breathing is swift, swelling and caving my chest. Head bowed, hair plastered to my forehead, sweat is covering my brow, racing down my face in salty rivulets. Wrapping her lips around her teeth, I can feel her gorging on my cock, succulent lips pulling my climax from me.


The vibrations of her aroused moans are creating an exquisite sensation in me, causing me to bite down painfully on my bottom lip at the feel of my impending climax. Attempting to warn her, I try to pull her head from me as gently as I can to give her an opportunity to move away if she chooses, but she firmly grasps my cock with her delicate hand, holding me to the cavern of her mouth, accepting my eruption onto her tongue. Magnificent spasms inflame my whole body, the tiny death approaching. I collapse back onto the couch, arms falling limply to my side, spent. Michonne is still moaning, humming around my jerking cock, and greedily swallowing the last spurts of my life force. She has taken everything from me, and left me wallowing in a mesmerizing glow that cocoons me in her love and affection.


Though her abdomen is weighted and swollen with my babies, my boys, her gorgeous rounded body rises from her knees gracefully with cat like slinkiness, to mount herself on top of me. Straddling my legs with her own, she braces herself on my chest with her hands. Pulled from a sex-weakened state, my eyes hungrily drink her in. The naughty grin to her perfect lush lips. The cloak like drape of her long dreads around her, flowing over her cantaloupe sized breasts, stopping near the top of her stomach. The ends of her hair brush the once tiny curve of her waist, that now bumps out to widened hips, dropping to an even fuller bottom. Lowering my eyes further, I see that her thatch of pubic hair obscures her wetness from my gaze, but I can feel its slick stickiness on my abdomen. Forcing my stare back up to make contact with her dark eyes, they are narrowed and focused on me. Voyeuristically watching me watch her.


With my left hand, I plant my fingers in the folds of her womanhood, caressing her nub with her own slickness. Leaning up to cup the back of her neck with my right, I lick my lips and attempt to compose myself. Moving her hair aside, I'm stroking the side of her neck with my thumb, savoring the softness found there. The first time we were together, I was amazed by how velvety smooth this fierce warrior woman's skin was. It was at such odds with how dangerous and deadly I had witnessed her be. The contrast is still mind-blowing.


Increasing the friction of my left hand, I push two fingers into her, finding her feverishly heated. She's so sensitive to my touch, that she has already begun quietly moaning, panting at the pleasurable fire I'm inciting her.


"Riiiicccck…"


"Yes, Counselor?" I answer her, continuing her game, taking joy in watching her fall apart in my hand. Thrusting my fingers at a quicker pace, adding another to open her further, take hold of more of her. I'm reaching for that part of her that I know will provoke her further. I add pressure to her clit with my thumb, and watch her completely fall apart on my lap. Blessing my thighs and groin with her essence.


Licking the sticky sweetness of Michonne from my drenched fingers, I lean back in satisfaction on the couch. Watching her beautiful features animated by her climax, then relax in repose, because of me, is one of my favorite things. A thrill unlike anything else, ever. All of it just feeds my addiction to her though. The thirst to watch her, be with her, possess all of her bountiful gifts. While I may not deserve her, the happiness, the joy, the hope she gives me, I wasn't lying when I told her before that I'm greedy when it comes to her.


For some reason this treacherous world, the universe with its macabre sense of humor, killed off at least half of humanity, and gifted me with an angel. I need her, can't breathe without her, and whatever it takes for the universe to continue to let me have her I'm willing to do it. Her love saturates every fiber of my being, giving inspiration to my obsession with her, my desire to feast on any and all pieces of her. I'm certain this addiction will drive me mad, but I don't care.


Grazing her fingers softly across her stomach, I place my own hands there as well, interlocking our fingers over her popped belly button. "Any day now, Chonne. We'll meet our boys any day now." I declare, excitement and anticipation lacing my words.


"I know, and I'm ready. It's so hot, Rick, I need these boys to come on out and give me some relief! This heat is too much for three people in one body!" She exclaims, quiet desperation evident in her voice, but still laughing a little at the thought. "I'm just ready to meet them." She offers, now with a content smile.


"Yeah, me too. And even though you just put on a hell of a show, Counselor, you're still not naming either of my sons Mathias." Smirking, I give her ass a light smack.


"Rick!"


Her weak protest is cut short by a knock at the door. Gently helping her to her feet, and I wearily stand and pull up my pants. Gathering her clothes from the couch, she turns and waddles, completely naked towards the stairs. Pausing as I walk over to the front door, I glance at her full bottom as she leaves the room, enjoying the pendulum like sway of her hips. Interrupting my lustful gaze, she yells over her shoulder, "This isn't over, Deputy." I laugh allowing her time to get up the stairs before I open the door.


"Hey, did you forget about that thing from Eugene you were supposed to come look at before I left?" Daryl asks as he rushes through the door, barely giving me a chance to register who it is.


"Damn. Yeah I did. Chonne had me distracted going through baby names. Come in, let me grab a shirt and then we can go." Rubbing my hand over my face, remembering I had something to do today and clearly allowed myself to get distracted.


"Right." He says, disbelief clear in his tone. "Anyway, I'm heading back over to The Sanctuary, so if these don't work I just need to know so I can take them back to him. He's got more."


"No problem. Chonne! I'm leaving." I walk over and holler up the stairs, hurriedly throwing my t shirt that I retrieved from the couch over my head.


Descending from the stairs in a billowy yellow sundress that stops above her knees, Michonne breezes into the living room. "Hey, Daryl," greeting Daryl with a hug, she turns to me. "Judith should be up from her nap soon, I'm taking her over to the lake to swim. Are you coming?"


"I'll meet you over there later, I gotta check out something with Daryl real quick. Make sure someone goes with you guys, to keep watch." I remind her. Since her seventh month, she has been unable to use her katana. Her balance is a little off due to the size of her stomach, and it just seemed like a good idea to retire it back to the mantle above the fireplace for now. Though she still carries a gun, I feel better when there is someone else with her when she's outside the gates. I don't want to smother her, or make her think I don't have confidence that she can take care of herself, but if I can't be there to protect her and the babies, then someone needs to be. It's a precaution that is probably more for my sanity than hers.


Carl has been doing a good job of being around more lately to help me out with that, protecting her while she still handles her diplomatic duties with the other communities. Also stepping up to help Michonne with what she calls her "nesting" stage of preparation for the boys' arrival, he and I have also been going on runs to gather things for the babies. Last month we found a baby store, and brought back everything from cribs and bottles, to toys and clothes. We pretty much took everything the truck could hold because Alexandria is growing and more babies than our own are on the way. Though they have been able to keep it fairly secret, Daryl and Rosita are expecting in about 4 months' time. I suppose we are all doing our part to repopulate the earth.


"Of course I will. Carl is coming, and I think a few others are as well. We're all trying to beat this heat and not stress the power grid with the AC too much."


"You use it if you need to, Mama. I dare someone to say something about it." I snarl, agitated at the thought that she might consider not using it because of what some idiot thinks.


"I'm making do, Rick. It's ok," she rubs my arm, soothes my irritation at the thought of someone saying something to her about using the air to cool off. If anyone needs it she does, and I won't tolerate anyone making her feel bad about it.


"Daryl, think Rosita will come? Or are you guys still trying to hold on to that already leaked secret?" Michonne asks, a smirk to her beautifully full lips, amusement in her eyes.


"I don't know, have to ask her. She's moody as hell today. And as far as any babies that may or may not be on the way, I'm not the one to leak that secret." He mumbles, as is customary for Daryl.


"I'll stop by and see if I can get her out of the house. Ok, see you guys later."


"See you later." I give Michonne a kiss on the cheek, hugging her body close to me with one arm, and rubbing her stomach with the other. Finding it hard to leave the bubble of her affection, she pulls away from me first, breaking the spell, and I reluctantly follow Daryl out of the house.


Walking down the steps of my house, Daryl and I immediately encounter Michonne's doctor, Corey. While I don't hate this guy as much as I did when we first met, I'm still not a big fan. I recognized that Michonne was attracted to him, and she so much as admitted it to me. Maybe not in those exact words, but I understood what she was saying, calling him "familiar". And I can tell for certain he is attracted to her. No question.


Everything inside of me, all of my instincts and insecurities make me want to hate him, but after he moved here from The Kingdom last week just to be here for when Michonne goes into labor, I at least have to grudgingly admit he's not that bad. Since I made it clear to him that she and I are married, his flirtations have ceased, and for that I'm grateful. I'm trying to curb my first instinct a little, which is always to fight, quick to anger, and practice a little more patience, diplomacy. Corey doesn't realize it though, or maybe he does, but he was very close to seeing my first instinct and getting his teeth knocked out every time he smiled at my wife.


Approaching, Corey gives a polite smile and waves. "Hello, Rick."


"Hey. Corey, this is Daryl. Daryl, this is Corey, Chonne's doctor." I introduce them.


"What's up?" Daryl replies, offering his hand to shake.


"Nice to meet you. I have some vitamins here for Michonne. Is she home?" He gestures his hand to my house behind me.


"She is, but you can give them to me. I'll make sure she gets them." I assure him. Not that I don't trust Michonne, but I don't want this guy in my house when I'm not home.


"Alright." He says, eyes moving between Daryl and I, reluctantly assenting to my demand. Handing the bottle over to me, he continues. "Well, I will get going. Since I'm here you can spread the word that I will be the full time doc now. Rosita at the infirmary asked me to stay, she said there are more babies being born here. So, I guess we'll all be seeing more of each other?"


"Oh yeah? She said that?" Daryl asks, frowning, obviously confused by Rosita's vague admission to Corey.


"Yeah. She did. She looks to be expecting herself, so I guess I'm right on time."


Seeing Daryl is now looking away towards the infirmary, lost in thought, I pick up the conversation. "Ok, I will let folks know. See you later." I nod to Corey. "Come on, Daryl." Patting Daryl on the back to get his attention, we begin walking away.


"It's interesting she told him that, let her see she's pregnant. I guess it's a good sign. She needs to see a doctor. I already told her that."


"Yeah, and he's alright I suppose. Helpful with the baby stuff. Hopefully we'll get a positive outcome with him here. He did have a little crush or something on Chonne. I didn't like that, but we have an understanding." I grouse, remembering how flirtatious he previously was with my wife.


"Who doesn't though?" Daryl questions, frowning in confusion.


"Who doesn't what? Have a crush on her?" I ask, definitely interested in the direction this conversation is headed.


"Shit, her and Scott used to be together. I reckon he still has a thing for her, that's pretty obvious with how much he hates you. Abe tried to holler at her at Deana's party. When she and I were looking for the Governor, I took my shot. She's beautiful and badass, why wouldn't guys be into her?" He admits, glancing over at me.


Stopping in the middle of the street, mid-stride, hands on my hips, I'm speechless. Not only did Daryl apparently know about Michonne and Scott, but he and Abe both tried to get at her. At my Michonne. "I can't believe what I'm hearing. Abe, you? I thought you were my friend, my brother? And you knew about her and Scott but never said anything to me about it? That's…fucked up."


"Nah. I don't see it that way." He replies. Crossing his arms across his chest. "The way I see it, y'all weren't together until you were actually together, so why wouldn't I want her for myself? You ever met another chick like her? Pretty and can kick ass like that? And, again when she was with Scott y'all weren't together, and she was happy. Really happy. She deserved that. We all did." Gesturing to me, he continues. "Matter of fact when you were chasing after Jessie and plotting to take this place, no one said anything to you about that either. We were all just trying to figure shit out. What Michonne was up to wasn't your business then anyway." He reasoned. Finally done with what he has to say, he turns and starts walking towards the gate where his motorcycle is parked, waiting for his trip to The Sanctuary to see Eugene.


Commencing my walk, allowing what Daryl said to sink in past the layers of anger, I'm again confronted with my own shit. The truth in his words stings. The reason Daryl even had an opportunity to be out looking for the Governor with her was because I was struggling with Lori dying, seeing shit, going crazy, withdrawing from everything. Abe came at her at that party because I was off with Jessie, and she was with Scott because I was again, losing my damn mind. Grudgingly I have to admit that Daryl is right, but it burns me up to do that. To be confronted with how often I have failed her. Failed to be the man she deserves. I know I have told her a million times that I have a lot to make up for, that I am going to be that man, but it's still tough to hear about it from others. To see it from their perspective.


After Michonne admitted to me a few months back that she knew about the Jessie thing, and that she was with Scott, it all hit me like a ton of bricks. Looking at my woman, tears in her eyes, admitting that hurt her, and that another man was there for her, was making her happy, I felt like a building had landed on me. I could barely breathe, focus. It was difficult to see what I had done to her, to own up to it. It took every thing in me not to go look for Scott and kill him. Everything. To think that he had the audacity to know her, maybe carnally, was unbearable. That he had touched that smooth, ebony skin that I adored, had felt her delicate fingers on his body. Anger festers in me every time I think about it.


In my mind, Michonne has always been mine. Always. That day at the fence, so alluring and gorgeous, almost in a heavenly sense, I couldn't tell if she was real or not. An angel? A goddess? I wanted her to be real, to touch her, but my mind was already messed up, fractured. Seeing her standing there, those bold, mysterious eyes hooked me, and from then on, she was mine. I was hers. Maybe neither of us could vocalize or meaningfully move on it, but it was the truth.


Catching up with Daryl at his bike, ruminating on my missteps, he held out a little velvet pouch to me. "Listen, man, what you're doing now, making a life with Michonne, having babies, planning this thing for her. It's good, man. Scott, Corey, Abe, me, doesn't matter. She loves you."


"I know you're right. Shit just reminds me how much I fucked up with her." I admit, the ache of regret heavy in my heart. "Anyway, let me see what Eugene has." I say, opening the pouch to find seven or so rings, some plain bands, some adorned with diamonds or other gems. Browsing over them I instantly see the one that is perfect for Michonne. It's a good size, dark green emerald, set on a gold band, with two smaller square emeralds on the side of it. The band is covered in small diamonds.


I don't know much about rings or jewelry. Lori's ring was a rather basic one that my mother picked out, something I could afford on a new deputy's salary. But this one is something like you would have seen in a fairytale, Arabian Nights, or as a part of a pirate's treasure. It feels like it's majesty represents all of the beloved and remarkable qualities she also possesses. Unique, eye catching, beautiful, valuable. I realize that she might not wear it much, or at all, but I want her to have it. I want to give her something that symbolizes my commitment to her, my devotion and love. And selfishly, I want something that shows we belong to each other. Like the "M" she wears around her neck, a gift she said she got from her mother when she found out she was pregnant with Andre, I want this ring to be equally associated with her. With the bond between her and I.


Determination has me focused on not just telling her how much I love and adore her, but showing her as well. Hence the ring. And another surprise that Gabriel and I have been working on.


"This is the one for her. And any of those bands will do for me, whichever fits." I say confidently, easily making up my mind and placing the rings in my jeans pocket. My mood is changing now, I'm feeling more optimistic having found something so perfect for her. It's also got me eager to touch base with Gabriel to make sure the other surprise is working out.


"Good choice. Alright, man, I'm gone. See ya!" Daryl climbs on his bike and rides off through the gate, heading to The Sanctuary to meet with Eugene. Eugene no longer lives at Alexandria, and frankly given past events, a lot of folks were not comfortable with him coming back. In the end we found out he was pretty much sabotaging Negan from the inside to help us and the other communities, but it was still hard for some to forget his cowardice and the role it played in the war. At the end of the day, when Negan was killed, and Dwight was as well, Eugene felt like as good a choice as we could find to lead The Sanctuary. To help keep him in check, Daryl is assigned to him as an ambassador of sorts, and pretty much keeps oversight on what's happening over there. So far it's an arrangement that seems to work for everyone.


Walking through the doors of the church, I find Father Gabriel in a pew with his head down, devotedly whispering in prayer. Taking a seat near the back of the church, so as not to disturb him, I take the ring for Michonne from my pocket to admire it while I wait. Grasping it between my index finger and thumb, the light from the church's windows hit the diamonds on the band in a way that the luminescence gives off the effect of a halo. A small laugh escapes me as I think of how appropriate that this ring, with its halo of diamonds, will be for my goddess.


"It's a lovely ring, Rick. You did good." Father Gabriel stands in the aisle in front of me, looking down at the ring as well. "Fitting for a woman like Michonne."


"Yeah. I thought so too." I nod my head in agreement, pleased with my own choice.


Taking a seat in the pew in front of me, he turns sideways to face me. "So what brings you here, Rick?"


"Now that I have the perfect ring, I was wondering how things are going with the wedding stuff. I haven't heard anything, no gossip, so I assume it's not getting around?"


"No. Only Daryl and Maggie know. It will be small and private, like you asked. But, perhaps will that not defeat the purpose of what you are trying to accomplish? Did you not mention before that you want others to know she is your wife, maybe even in an official capacity if anything like that even exists anymore?" His face is contemplative, perhaps giving his own questions some thought. But his recollection is correct. I did mention that to him in one of our many talks. We didn't start off as friends, but he has become one over the years. I'm not a talkative man, maybe with Michonne I am. That's because I have a thirst to know everything about her, and I want her to know everything about me. So we talk. A lot. But, generally I guess I'm not a man that needs to talk too much. Though I have found some solace in my talks with Gabriel. He listens and gives good advice. In my attempts to be a better man, leader, father, husband, his feedback, though once met with derision, is now quite valuable.


I'm also not religious. Michonne finds it strange and amusing that given that fact, I have found such a close friend in Gabriel. I suppose it is odd, but a good person is a good person, and there simply are not that many of them left.


Giving his question some thought, I'm taking my time in answering. Attempting to measure my thoughts, gather the right words. "It's like, uh. Michonne, Carl, Judith, the babies coming, they are everything to me. They are why I live, why I fight, what keeps me going. I want to celebrate that, make it known to our friends, those we care about. That this thing between is real. I guess I just didn't want it to be overwhelming with too many other people involved. Maybe you're right though, making it a community thing. That's fine if it's not too much trouble."


"It's doable. I think everyone would enjoy that, a community celebration. I think Michonne will enjoy that." Gabriel nods his head in ascent and smiles.


Pausing for a moment, taking a breath, looking down at the ring again, I continue. "I think so too. Thanks, Gabriel. She's special to me, deserves every happiness I can give her. I've never met or loved a woman like her before. Matter of fact I've never known love like this before. It's like something cosmic brought this fierce, beautiful goddess to me. Like a gift, just for me. I've been broken so many times, and she keeps putting me back together, saving me. I'm thankful. As much as I love Michonne, I sometimes hate myself when I think that I ever created any kind of sadness or uncertainty in her." I explain. Raising my hand to my head, I'm now feeling a headache coming on by my emotionally draining confession.


Needing to get his opinion on something, I push through the dull pain starting in my head. "Let me ask you a question. Recently it's come to my attention just how much I have hurt her in the past. Chasing after Jessie when everything I could ever want or need was right in front of me. Somehow I missed that, and it injured her. Fractured her faith in me. Regardless of that, she has forgiven me, still promising me her love forever. Why do I deserve that, Gabriel? A man like me. You know me, I've killed, stolen. Hell, I've experienced jealousy at least two times in the last hour. Why would your god show me such favor?" My eyes are locked on his in earnestness. I need to figure this out. The question has been knocking around in my head ever since Michonne told me she knew about Jessie. I feel so much shame about the whole thing, and I really have no excuse. Yes, I was out of my mind at the time, but like Daryl said, we were all trying to figure things out. And even though her admission of a relationship with Scott tore me up, tears me up to the point of near savage rage at the thought of her in his arms, I cannot blame her for finding her own joy, happiness, when I didn't give it to her.


Taking his time to answer my question, he glances over his shoulder to the cross near the front of the church. Crossing his hands over his stomach he answers, "Many people feel as though their partners are a gift to them. A mate is meant to be a help, to fill our needs, both physically and emotionally. We all need and deserve to have our needs met." He reasons, attempting to help me make sense of my question, my feelings. "Why would you feel undeserving of that, of favor, of forgiveness? Rick, you, more than probably anyone else, have sacrificed and lost for the good of others. Every time you leave these gates, you make peace with the fact that you would sacrifice your own life for others. You have saved my life many times. Who could be more deserving of a gift like Michonne than you?" He questions me back. Then giving it some more thought, he offers, "Humans, we are imperfect. To move forward, we have to forgive each other, and sometimes most importantly, ourselves. Michonne is a smart and wise woman, I think she understands that. And I would say she is your compliment in so many ways, because I think you understand that too. Instead of feeling undeserving, perhaps you should recognize her as a sign of God's grace, His forgiveness."


"You know your god and I, Gabriel. We're not on the same page." I remind him. "I don't know how anyone could look at what this world has become, the savagery, and still see your god's hand in it."


"Remove my God from the equation then. You referred to Michonne earlier as a goddess. You may not be far off on that. The church has often been confronted with the contemplation of a concept of the divine feminine. You see it in many cultures and beliefs over time. Oshun, Isis, Gaia, Hera. That women, their wombs, their bodies, are a gateway between life and death. Their bodies nurture and bring forth life, abundance, love. By connecting with them sexually we experience petit mort, the little death. You say she is giving you back a family, she puts you back together. Through her you continue to find rebirth, love, abundance, forgiveness. I think that's a nod to my God's grace in your life if ever I saw it." He chuckles, giving me that smirk that I have come to associate with him. It's the one where he thinks he has bested me in some way, proven a point I'm too obstinate to see.


"She is absolutely a goddess then. No doubt there" I chuckle, and reluctantly concede. "Maybe that's why I have this need, this desire to let everyone know she's mine. That this amazing woman chose me. Sometimes the feeling is overwhelming. Almost obsessive. It makes me proud to see her carrying my babies, for others to know they are mine. That I've been there, and she's mine."


"I could see that." He nervously laughs, looking away from me. His acknowledgement is brief, but I know he's not dismissing me.


"Realizing there are other men who see what I see in her, that look and think about her the same way that I do, that want what I have…it's a threat to my happiness, to my family. I won't allow anyone to come between us, to try and take her from me. I would kill for her." The admission is hard for me. To admit to such base thoughts, impulses. But I say it with confidence, certain that I would not hesitate to fulfill this promise.


Gabriel recognizes the familiar seriousness of my tone, and that I am a man of my word, and continues to assert his logic. "We possess a higher level of consciousness and reason, but at our core, we are still animals in a way. The instinct to mark what is ours, protect it, is not foreign to mankind. What you feel for Michonne is not uncommon for how someone should feel when they have something special that they want to keep for themselves."


I take a breath, considering whether or not to fully explore and explain the reasoning behind my jealous impulses. "I had a wife, Judith and Carl's birth mother. And I had a best friend. When they thought I died, they were together. And when it turned out I wasn't dead, he still wanted them to be together. To keep my family. I tried, Gabriel, I did, to understand, to reason. But the situation with my wife and my friend…it showed me I have to sometimes be the bad guy. To protect what's mine, or someone else will take it. Just like enemies can become friends, friends can become enemies." I close my eyes to the stirring memories of the web that Shane and Lori had spun around the three of us. A web that was only destroyed by me murdering my best friend, and effectively turning my back on my wife.


"Wars have been fought over women since the beginning of time, Rick. Ever heard of the Trojan War? You shouldn't dwell on such things, the past. I think it's most important to focus on what's now, the future. The fact that you are together, that you have found your soul mate, that you have two healthy children already here, and two more on the way. You're all safe. In this world these are not small things. Just keep loving each other. Protect your happiness, your gift, by fulfilling your promise to love and respect her. Trust that her love and forgiveness is real and you deserve it." Standing, he offers his last parting words. "Nothing lasts forever, but recognize His grace in your life for now, Rick. We cannot all be so lucky."


Ambling through the woods, I'm following the worn path that leads to the lake that's mostly hidden behind a thicket of trees. T-shirt sticking to my body, I'm sweating profusely, feet sweltering in my worn down boots. The sun and humidity together are making me consider an uncharacteristic break and taking a dip in the lake as well. Running my hand down my face, wiping away the sweat, I'm going over in my head my conversations with both Daryl and Gabriel today. One filling me with anger, the other causing me to reconsider that anger. Catching the twinkling of laughter in the distance, I know I'm close to her, I can recognize her laugh anywhere.


Hurrying at a quicker pace to get to Michonne, I make it to the lake. I'm welcomed by the sight of Judith and Carl splashing each other. Tara, Rosita, and a few others from Alexandria are swimming, cooling off in the water, or standing guard. At first I don't see Michonne. Swiveling my head left and right in search of her, my ears perk at the silvery softness of her voice giving away her location. My first inclination is to smile, but then I realize who she is talking to. Scott. Seated at the lake's edge, on the more isolated end, but under the shade of some trees, her skirt hoisted high on her thighs, Michonne is skimming the tops of the water with her tiny feet. Rays sunlight peak through the trees, illuminating her as if she rode down from heaven in their beams. A goddess indeed.


Behind her, posted on guard like a sentry, Scott is looking down on her, smiling at something she's saying. I can't make it out, my ears are clouded with the thumping of my pulse. Instantly I realize, seeing them there together, that they fit, they look like they would be together. His brown skin is only a few shades lighter than hers. Sharing a laugh and smiles, her stroking her belly in that rhythmic maternal way of hers, no one would probably question the idea of them being a couple. The picture they are creating could be from a commercial, or a catalog. The familiarity of how the old world would have easily matched them to make a family, causes a wave of sickness to grip my chest. Feelings of inadequacy, of not being the man she needs, anger that Scott may have been, all attempt to overcome me. My right hand rests on my gun, finger quickly tapping at the trigger. Tilting my head, running my tongue over my lips, I momentarily look to the sky, then back to Michonne's face, attempting to reign in the darkness stirring inside of me.


Looking up to me, acknowledging my presence and fixing me with her brown orbs, Michonne's smile chases those dark thoughts away, and reminds me of the truth of Gabriel's words. Raising her hand to shield her eyes from the sun, she exclaims with joy in her voice, "Rick." The sound of my name on her lips lessens the tension in my body, animates me to move closer, my palms itching to touch her.


At the sound of her saying my name, Scott finally looks away from her. Smile falling from his face, he notices me approaching. "Rick." He says, disappointment and agitation heavily lacing the way he said my name, lips downturned in a frown.


"Scott." I nod my head towards him, and narrow my eyes, partially from the glare of the sun, but mostly to set my focus on him, to announce my presence. "I'll take it from here."


"Nice to see you again, Michonne." Scott says, never breaking eye contact with me. Reaching down, now staring at her face, affection for her apparent, he grips her shoulder briefly, his wide grin returning. "I'll see you around. Take care of yourself, ok?"


"Of course. You too, Scott." Watching him walk away, she sets her gaze on me once more. Bathing in the warmth of the sun, her eyes are alight with softness, welcoming me, drawing me to her. "Come here," Michonne beckons to me with her hand. "Do you want to get wet?"


Because I know this woman, the innocence she attempted to imbue her words with may have fooled someone else had they been listening, but not me. The tiny smirk that followed those words let me know she means something else entirely. It disarms me, sends me willingly drifting away from the possessive and jealous feelings I had seeing her with Scott. Taking a seat next to her, she confuses me by instantly rising, and slowly walking to stand in front of me. Leaning down she rolls the pants legs of my jeans to my calves, then tugs off each of my boots and socks, throwing them to the wooded ground behind me.


"There you go. Now, get wet."


Laughing I respond, feeling a little sad that she didn't mean what I thought she meant. "Oh, you meant get wet for real? In the lake."


"Rick! What did you think I meant?" She asks, pretending at shock. "There are too many people around, and it's too hot out here for that. Get your mind out of the gutter!"


"Nah. I want you you down here in the gutter getting dirty, and wet with me." I grin at her, taking hold of her small hand in mine. "Thank you. Have a seat with me." Leading her back to her seat beside me, I lavish her with kisses to her neck, adoring the scent of the sun on her skin. Watching across the lake we enjoy the sight of the kids and others just hanging out. Playing. Safe. Drenching my feet and legs with the lake's water, I'm allowing the coolness to relax me. Taking pleasure in this tranquil moment with my favorite girl.


An immense wave of gratefulness washes over me. For my family. For this woman beside me, growing and nurturing my seeds within her belly. Once lithe and toned, her body is now fuller on her tiny frame, more voluptuous. Her skin is a rich coffee color, a decadent dark roast, smoother and more enticing than ever, with a brilliance that is unparalleled. I have never seen anyone like her before. I'm stunned by her, happily ensnared as she provides a mortal like myself with more love, grace, and beauty than I could have ever imagined to receive. Before the world fell apart, I never could have even fathomed that a woman like this would look my way, let alone be my lover, my wife, the mother of my children. How ironic that after so much darkness and death Michonne and I have found life, together.












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