Epilogue / The Future (Rick's persp)

"Does your mother let you eat cookies for breakfast, Elizabeth?" I ask, removing my focus from the book on my lap and over to my 3-year-old granddaughter, Judith's daughter.

"Ummm…maybe?" My grandbaby responds, looking up at me with her dark almond eyes, deceptively innocent in the midst of her mischievous plotting. Seated with her legs crossed next to me on the couch, she's got her little hand out asking for more cookies, even though I already snuck her two. As precocious as her mother ever was, she knows I'm not going to say no to her. I can't. Not to any of my grandkids.

"I'll give you this last one. But then no more, ok? You're gonna get me in trouble with your grandma and your mama." Glancing over my shoulder to check and be sure neither of them are around, I remove another cookie from my napkin.

"Thank you, Poppy!" She cries, snatching the cookie from my hand, and taking off from the couch as fast as her little feet will allow, heading somewhere in the house to enjoy the spoils of her juvenile ruse. These kids know how to work me I realize, shaking my head and pushing my glasses further up the bridge of my nose to concentrate on my book again.

Disrupting my focus, I immediately hear the swinging and resultant bang of the back screen door, accompanied by the voice of our daughter in law Elena, followed by multiple footsteps.

"Mom, he is driving me crazy though. I'm done even having the conversation."

"Don't let Junior be in charge, Elena. He's a bossy know it all sometimes. You just need to put him in his place. Mom, tell her. He's really a softie like Dad. If you talk to him right he'll do whatever you want. What do you call it, Mom? He's whipped!" I hear Judith chime in, commiserating with Elena's frustration with Junior, and poking a little fun at his, and apparently my expense. But if Judith has her say, Elena will have Junior in line in no time. I think the fact that everyone knows Hershel does whatever his wife, Judith, tells him to do is pretty evident that he lets her have her way. But that's also proof that he has figured out the same thing I have, and that Junior will soon come around to as well. Ultimately, you win when you let your wife have her way. Happy wife, happy life. And when you have a good wife, when you've chosen well, it definitely has its benefits.

"Your father is not whipped, Judith. Remember we had six kids of our own, and I did not plan on that. But yes, Junior is like Rick, Elena, and that means he might be stubborn, wanting more kids, but it's out of love, not that he's trying to dominate you or anything archaic like that. But, I agree with your point as well, two is a good number, it's enough. I've been there, and I will talk to him if you want, but otherwise you have to manage your own husband, honey. I'm his mother, and I don't like to get into you guys' personal stuff."

"I know, and it's not that I don't want to have a big family with him, but two is enough. Remember I was an only child, but I grew up with you guys. Six kids were a lot." Elena sighs. "I'm going to check on the kids, see if Junior's done getting everyone bathed. Get myself ready for the wedding. Thanks, Mom. Thanks, Judy." I hear Elena say before also catching the sound of her footsteps on the hardwood floors, across the creaking boards of the long hallway.

Knowing that Michonne and Judith might come looking for me here in the living room next, I re-wrap my stash of cookies in the napkin and swiftly shove them them under the throw pillow next to me on the couch, attempting to hide my own theft.

"Rick, you might need to talk to Junior. He's got poor Elena playing baby making machine at every turn, wanting her to have another baby. Their last baby Michael is only 6 months old! I think two kids is plenty, don't you? They are so young; this could go on for another ten or so years. Is he trying to catch up to Carl? We've already got so many grandkids as it is. Right?" Michonne says, entering the living room, and joining me on the couch. Judith follows behind her, taking a seat on the other side of me, sitting on the pillow that hides my cookies, that are certainly crushed to crumbs now.

"Mmhm." I nod my head, agreeing with her. "He should listen to his wife. I always do."

"Sometimes you do. We had six kids too, remember, that's a lot to manage. You would think he would remember that." She states, snuggling close to me underneath my arm, pressing her warm body to my side.

"It was a lot, Chonne, but it was also a lot of fun, right? Making 'em, raising 'em. Let them figure it out, ok? Anyway, the more Grimes the better." Looking down at her, I nudge her face up towards mine to place a firm kiss to her pillowy lips, that taste of strawberries and lemonade.

"Dad, first, ew! Making them, really? Did you have to say that while I'm in the room? I'm gonna be sick." Feigning throwing up, Michonne and I laugh at her dramatics. "Then, no, Dad, there are more than enough folks in this family already. Hershel and I have two, Carl and Cyndie have six, Junior and Elena have two, Jamie and Aminah have three, only God knows how many Glenn has now. How many does he have, Mom?" Judith scrunches her face in question, counting up all the grandkids on her fingers. In that moment, looking over at her perched on the couched, she resembles Lori.

Judith has never seen her, has no picture of what she looks like, only knows that Lori is her biological mother. But somehow in that moment, with her long chestnut hair down over her shoulders, and pulled away from her face, she has summoned her. Lori's stare and wide eyed look of incredulity are making a comeback through Judith. It freezes me momentarily, then throws my memory back into time. A time that wasn't all bad, but frankly wasn't all that good either.

Having never witnessed Lori's mannerisms, or having met her, Michonne is blissfully unaware of her emergence on her daughter's face. Or Shane's hot-blooded disposition in her temperamental ways. Whoever said that nurture overrides nature has never met my Judith.

"At last count, Glenn has eight kids. And I'm expecting that they will all be here today for the wedding, probably along with all of their mothers as well. He's living some roaming pirate dream life he read about in a book or something. I don't know what to say about him anymore." Michonne surmises, a little exasperation at the free-wheeling life our youngest son leads.

"He's uh, Long John Silver now, right? Or maybe it's Johnny Appleseed!" I chuckle, thinking about my youngest son, his proclivity for the ladies, and having babies. With the restart of society, and the efforts to revitalize the remnants of technology and order that were abandoned during the turn, Glenn and a crew of folks decided to hit the seas and see what they could find. He's been a sailor since he was 15, and even though we're not entirely happy with his rolling stone ways, we are proud that he is doing something that makes him happy. Hell, most of all, we're just glad that Glenn, like the rest of this generation, have more life opportunities than we imagined they'd have after the turn.

"Well, there you go, that's at least eight more. Way too many Grimes folks. The farm is gonna be a Grimes compound today with everyone here for the wedding." Huffs Judith, leaning back on the couch as though she has exhausted her point.

"I don't see the problem." Looking between my wife and daughter in confusion. I can't help but actually be pretty excited at the thought of all of my family being here today. After all of the death and fighting, my family has grown and flourished to such a large number. Grabbing Michonne's hand, clutching it to my heart, I also have to admit that one of the main reasons for that is her. By the blade of her sword, and the barrel of my colt, we fought and killed to make this a reality, and well, I regret nothing.

"It's nice for everyone to be here, Judy. When your father and I moved to this farm after Misha was born, we hoped it would be kind of like a compound for our family. A safe place for everyone to be together. You've all moved on and have your own lives. You're all spread out. But you know you enjoy being here with your brothers and sister, all of your nieces and nephews, me and your dad. All the noise and fun we have together. Come on, admit it." Michonne asserts, reaching over me to poke at Judith's well known tickle spot at her ribs.

"No! Don't tickle me, Mom! Ok, it's exhausting, but kind of fun." Judith relents on a stream of loud raucous laughter, hurriedly rising from the couch, escaping Michonne's tickles. "I'm going to shower and get my husband and kids ready for the wedding. Mom, let me know when Misha gets back from her ride. I told her I would help with her hair and makeup." Leaning down she places a kiss on top of my head. "I like the glasses and the haircut, old man." She teases, rushing out of the way of me swatting playfully at her leg.

A few weeks ago I decided to stop fighting my thinning, receding hair that had already turned fully white. Still cutting my hair every other week, like she has been for the last twenty or so years, Michonne gave me a closely cropped buzz cut, and I like it. On the other hand, my beard, which she also trims, but just a little with the scissors, remains full and as white as it ever was.

"I told you the haircut is good. And of course you look very smart and sexy in your glasses, Deputy." Michonne purrs, leaning in even closer to me. Pushing her leg out and away from her, I'm laying her back onto the couch, getting in between her thighs, and closer to my favorite spot.

"Is that right?" I wonder aloud, my eyes wandering over her face, from her heaving bosom to her coffee brown eyes.

"Absolutely." Biting down on her plump bottom lip, drawing my attention there, I can feel arousal growing in my groin. I lean up, rising to meet her, and take those lips that belong to me, in a kiss. Plying them apart to thrust my tongue into her mouth, I savor the sweet taste of strawberries lacing her tongue. Grabbing two handfuls of her plump bottom, I'm massaging and squeezing, excited by the supple feel of her curves against me, gyrating my groin against her heat. Growing feverish from the passion of our kiss, Michonne is crushing and grinding her buxom breasts against my chest, moaning into my mouth.

"Do we have time for this? To head to our room?" I pant in between kisses, my steely erection hungry to satisfy my need of her. Even though we have been together for just over 20 years, my desire for her hasn't waned one bit. And god me help me, she's still the most beautiful, breathtaking woman I have ever seen. After the birth of the twins, her petite frame filled out, adding even more womanly curves to her already delectable shape. As my grandfather used to say, she is still built like a Coke bottle. And I'm still as eager as ever to sip from that bottle as much as she'll let me. Grasping a handful of her hair, her dreads are now a striking silver, with just a few strands of her previous dark shade still woven throughout. Against her deep velvety skin, the contrast is quite alluring.

While we don't have the need to fight to survive anymore, retiring those parts of ourselves as society is slowly moving back to a slightly less civilized version of itself, we both keep fit working around our secluded farm. After the surprise pregnancy that resulted in Glenn being born almost one year after the twins, and the even bigger surprise of little Misha being born two years later when Michonne thought she was starting menopause, we had to find something bigger for the rapidly growing Grimes family. Daryl and I were out on border patrol, as each community was responsible for furthering them progressively over time, and we found this farm. A little bigger than Hershel's farm, from what we could tell it was a horse farm, that also has an apple orchard in the fields behind the main house, which is a sprawling ranch style home. Moving here from the Safe Zone was a big change, leaving our friends, and the community behind, but we made an effort to stay as involved as possible. And once we found horses, and began keeping a stable of them, it became even easier to commute back and forth, especially with the realization that we are only around three miles from the Safe Zone. It was perfect for us. The kids got more room to be kids, to grow, Michonne found a real cat, actually a family of cats in the stables, and I got a farm of my own. And over time, many other family members have come and gone, staying at our farm for as little as a few days, to as much as a few years. Daryl lived here with us after he and Rosita finally called it quits about five years ago, and stayed until he had a heart attack and passed away a year ago.

Pulling back from me some, she scours my face with her dark scrutinizing gaze, I assume thinking over my question, but instead posing one of her own. "Look at these cookie crumbs in your beard, Rick. You been sneaking cookies, old man?" Reaching her hand to brush her delicate fingers through my beard, and across my lips, she has discovered my secret.

"Hm? Yeah I had a few." I partially confess, rubbing my hands along her waist and hips to hopefully coerce her into getting back to us heading to our bedroom.

"Just a few? I can taste the cookies on your lips. You know those are Misha's favorite cookies, Rick. I had to get up early to make them, and the cake."

"I remember you getting up too early. Leaving me alone in the bed, knowing I needed my morning loving." I grouse, my hands underneath her ass, pulling closer to let her feel the pressure of my swollen cock against her, while I place another kiss to my wife's lips, this one hungrier than the last.

Stopping our kiss she continues. "Rick, on the morning of your youngest daughter's wedding, with a house full of people, a cake and cookies to make, I thought you might be able to make it one morning without it." She reasoned, moving her lips over to whisper into my ear, licking her wet tongue along the outer shell.

"No, you're wrong. I still need it." Wrapping my arms around her back, I stand from the couch, carrying my giggling wife. Her long legs wrapped around my waist, I'm ready to finish this conversation in bed.

Instead, I once again catch the sound of the back screen door swinging open, then banging shut. All followed by the hasty footsteps of my youngest daughter, leading directly towards us.

"Mom! Dad! What are you guys doing?"

"Uh, I was helping your mother…uh…" I stutter to answer, still tightly holding on to Michonne.

"Ew, I don't want to know. I just came to tell you that the wedding is off. I'm not marrying Zeke Jr., I can't. Dad, you don't really like him anyway, so there you go." Misha, my youngest, and secret favorite, rants.

Dropping her legs from around my waist, and stepping back from me, Michonne calmly responds to our daughter's frantic proclamation. "So, what did Zeke Jr. do that is worthy of you cancelling a wedding that is supposed to happen in 4 hours, Misha?"

Taking a seat on the couch, arms crossed, full lips poked out in a pout, she is physically Michonne in every way. Of the four children we created together, Misha is the darkest of them all, and the only one that carries so many of her mother's features and mannerisms that they could pass for sisters instead of mother and daughter. It is for this reason, and maybe also because she is the youngest, that I have indulged and spoiled her the most. From the moment she entered this world, signaling the end of Michonne's and my baby making days, this little princess has owned my heart.

Overall though, with six children, we have been gifted with a broad span of personalities. Carl was a child, then a teen, during the hard times, the wars, with Negan and the Whisperers, becoming a hardened soldier like Michonne and I, with tiny memories of the old world. Eventually he became a much needed co-leader, shrewd but fair, for Oceanside, working alongside his wife Cyndie. We always thought Enid was his destiny, but after dancing with Cyndie at our wedding, he became truly smitten, and before we knew it, Cyndie was pregnant by Carl. Shortly after, he decided to move to Oceanside to be with her, and take care of his family, first as mainly a fisherman, and then as their co-leader when Cyndie's grandmother Natania passed away.

Judith is a true child of the apocalypse, learning to fight at a young age as easily and seamlessly as learning her ABCs, she's known no other life. As such, she was used to having the love and care of multiple family members throughout some pretty tough times. But always sticking close to her mother, she is a temperamental little warrior, still keeping Michonne's katana with her always. Growing up so closely with Hershel everyone assumed from a very young age that they would get married, and they did not disappoint. Moving to The Hilltop, together they take care of Maggie and their two children, working as farmers.

Junior and Jamie, our love children as Michonne calls them, are intellectuals, both working with exploration teams that broaden borders, and identify ways to revive the world. Personality wise, they each possess my tenacity and Michonne's wisdom, but as most people often mention, are an identical pair with a brown version of my face. Given their gifted intelligence, the speed at which they picked things up and seemed to desire to get out into the world, moved them away from us pretty quickly. Living at Alexandria, with their wives and families, Junior married to Daryl and Rosita's daughter Elena, and Jamie married to Aminah, the daughter of Nabila and Jerry from The Kingdom. Together they have made Alexandria the unofficial capital of the communities, as well as an education hub for learning and innovation.

Glenn, our adventurer is just that. He followed Daryl around a lot when he was younger, scouring our tiny piece of the world, maybe just trying to find his way in the bustle of a quickly growing family. He became interested in exploring, hunting, seeing the world around us, leading to his time on the ocean. I suppose the freedom he found on the water, somehow correlates to the freedoms he takes spending his time with various women, but honestly only Glenn knows.

Then there is my Misha. Named after my wife, the love of my life, she has stuck to me from day one. As soon as she could walk she would be with me on the farm, working with the horses, riding as often as she could, picking apples from the orchard, making applesauce. She always loved my stories about the old world, about me being a sheriff's deputy, about my favorite television shows and the westerns I used to watch with my grandfather on weekends. It was like she was learning about and seeing the old world through my eyes. Though our sons became affectionately known as the "band of boys", and Judith as Michonne's shadow, Misha has always been and will always be, my princess.

"He had the nerve to tell me just now that he doesn't want to live here on the farm when we're married, that he wants me to move to The Kingdom with him. How can he expect me to leave my family? You guys are getting old; I can't just leave you here alone!"

"I'm old? Chonne, am I old?" I ask playfully, glancing between my wife and my daughter, then rolling my eyes in fake confusion.

"I'm not old, and neither are you. We are…seasoned, experienced. I still feel like I did twenty years ago." Michonne teases, nodding her head at her own proclamation, and rubbing her hands across the expanse of my back.

"And you still look the same, baby, beautiful as ever." I respond, admiring the sexy confidence my wife always has. "Maybe even better than ever." Kissing her neck, she gives a little delighted squeal at my affections, while my daughter groans in the background.

"Guys! Be serious please!"

"Misha, Zeke Jr. has a responsibility at The Kingdom. You knew that when you began dating him, and when you accepted his marriage proposal. I fully expected that you would leave one day, just like your sister did, just like all of your brothers have." Michonne reasons, making her best attempt at getting Misha to see reason.

"You can stay here for as long as you want though." I shrug, throwing out a more desirable alternative, at least to me, than what my wife is suggesting.

"Rick, you're not helping." Michonne rolls her eyes at me, and continues. "Everything we have done since the turn has been to ensure that you kids have a future. And well, we did that. So now you have to go out there and live your life. Don't let what we had to go through, our sacrifices, and your brother Carl's, and even Judy's to some extent, be in vain. Ok?"

"Gee, no guilt there at all, Mom. I get it, but aren't you guys going to miss me? Who is going to clean the stables with Daddy every morning? Work in the orchards?" Skeptical, Misha's eyes bounce from her mother's to mine, searching for answers, something to assuage her uncertainty.

"Don't worry about us, we'll figure it out, Misha. We always do." Michonne answers, and pulls our daughter, our baby, into a hug. Joining in the hug with my girls, I can sense the relief in the relaxation of her tense body, signaling her acceptance of her mother's words. "Zeke Jr. is a good boy. He loves you and respects you. Things will turn out just fine."

"You're right, Mom. Like Dad says, you're always right. I'm going to see if Judy is ready to help me with my hair." Taking off towards the hall, she looks back at us, like a younger duplication of her mother. "I love you guys. Thanks!"

Watching her stroll down the hall, away from me, I pause to consider her words, the implication that she will in fact be leaving us. "You know, Michonne, I never really considered that she is moving to The Kingdom either. Ezekiel is taking my princess from me." I mumble, discontent coloring my revelation.

"Rick, he's not. He can't do anything right when it comes to you. You have just never forgiven him for moving on after Carol died, have you? You and Daryl could never move past that. But guess what? You got over your first wife dying. You remarried, had a bunch more kids, so what does that say about you?"

Instantly sniffing out the setup in Michonne's question, I'm not even falling for it. "That's because I met the woman who was my destiny, and there was no comparison." Smirking at her, I can see that she approves of my answer by the shy smile overtaking her sexy lips. "And, I forgave him. It just seemed so sudden that he moved on and started a family. Shit, Carol was barely gone by the time he remarried." Wrapping my arms around her waist, I lift her feet off the ground, closer to mine, once again latching on to and kneading her bottom in my hands. "I don't want to talk about it anymore. I want to get my daily dose of Chonne. Now, come on, Counselor." I nod my head towards the hall that leads to our bedroom, and raise my eyebrows in invitation.

"Well if you put it that way. Let's go, Deputy. I'll give you your fix now…" Michonne taunts, landing back on her feet and grabbing my hand. Leading me down the hallway, she puts an extra sway in the back and forth swing of her round hips.

"Damn, Chonne. And a little more later, too?" I ask, moving her hair aside to suck on the back of her neck. Grinding my erection into her ass, we are interrupted once again by the sound of a slamming screen door…

"We're gonna head back to Oceanside tonight." Carl says, loading his van with bags, and leftover food from the wedding.

"I thought you guys were going to stay the night." Michonne says.

Turning from the back doors of the van, he faces us. In his forties now, our son is every bit the man we hoped he would be. Tall and lean, same as me, his face is also covered in a salt and pepper beard, hair once again longer than I'm sure his mother cares for.

Making obvious her dislike of his long locks, Michonne reaches out to him and swipes his brown and gray hair away from his face. "There. Now I can see your face." She smiles lovingly at him. "We have enough room for you guys to stay the night. That way you can leave in the morning, when you're refreshed."

"It's ok, Mom. Glenn and his kids are leaving with us tonight, too. We're actually all heading out for a fishing trip in the morning on his boat, so we should leave now so we can be up early and get out on the water. But, we'll be back through here in two weeks. I told Dad I would help him with that wild horse he found when he was out on that trip to Assateague."

"Fine. Have fun with your brother and the kids fishing." She relents. Kissing him on the cheek, she then walks away, towards Glenn who is coming down the pathway from the house, his tribe of kids following closely behind.

"So, your little brother, Junior is trying to talk Elena into another baby. Think maybe he's trying to keep up with his big brother?" I ask, hands on my hips, squinting my eyes in question, a slight tilt to my head.

Mirroring my own stance Carl chuckles at the assumption. "He probably is. But, Elena isn't Cyndie. She already knows how much trouble six kids can be; she's not going to stand for it." He says, making a swiping gesture across his neck to get his point across.

"Yeah, I know. You talk to him. He listens to you. If I talk to him, he'll think I'm meddling."

"I understand." He responds, scratching at the thickness of his beard.

"Listen, to be clear though. There's nothing wrong with Junior wanting to have more children. That's not what I'm saying. You guys love your wives. That connection is a part of how you express your love, to keep expanding your families. But your mother and I walked that road, and yeah it was hard, being responsible for all of those lives. Making time for just the two of you to have alone time. Tell him to make it a little easier on himself, if Elena doesn't want any more kids, he needs to call it quits. You know how it goes, Carl. You and Cyndie have five girls, and one boy. He'll respect your advice."

"Yep. I'm on it, Dad." He nods and grins, once again happily accepting his role as big brother.

Reaching out to grab my oldest son into a hug, the pride that I feel in this moment is immense, threatening to send me into tears. He and I have traveled a long road together, maturing and transforming in tandem. At times I doubted our ability to survive, to even make it to the next day. But here we are.

"Hey, old man, save some hugs for me and these kids, too!" Glenn yells playfully, approaching my side and engulfing Carl and I in a whopping bear hug. At well over six feet tall, sporting a wide frame and a barrel chest, Glenn's larger than life presence and friendly personality, definitely makes him the life of the party. I can see why women like him so much. Why a fleet of folks leave land at his whims, to follow him and scour the ocean looking for adventure. With his mass of curls pulled to the top of his head in a bun, his sun kissed face, similar to his mother's, but the color of polished brass, he looks nothing like the man he is named after, but he possesses every bit of the same level of kindness and affability. Michonne says that he is a throwback, that he's very much like her father. Obviously having never met him, in her stories about his exploits from his home country of Zimbabwe, to his time as an engineer that partied and womanized his way through the States until he met and fell in love with her mother, also an engineer, he sounds a lot like our Glenn.

Steadying myself, I'm nearly tumbling to the ground from the force of Glenn's hug, and the barrage of grandkids grabbing my legs, piling on to the affectionate hug. "Ok! How about one at a time, you guys give Poppy hugs?" I offer, finally landing to the ground on my ass, ending up at the bottom of a mountain, made up entirely of at least eight of my grandkids.

"Glenn, you are so dramatic." Judith dryly comments, walking by holding her son's hand, following close behind Hershel who carries their daughter Elizabeth in his arms, Maggie at his side. Picking her son up, she helps him into his car seat. "Dad is old, be careful with him please." She asserts, narrowing her stare over at Carl and Glenn to make her point.

"What?" I ask, returning her stare in disbelief that another one of my children has referred to me as old.

Glancing back towards Michonne, who carries the youngest of Carl's children, six month old Mason, Maggie wryly comments, "Rick Grimes, taken down by children. Who knew that all this time, that was your weakness? Huh." Looking down at me, she snickers at her own wise ass comments. "See you guys, soon!" She waves her hand, fluttering her fingers back towards us as she enters Hershel and Judith's truck.

"Very funny, Maggie. You guys be careful heading back to The Hilltop. Glenn, help me up." I grumble, reaching my hand up towards my burly son.

"Got ya, Pop!" Jovially he answers, and easily pulls me up from the ground, patting me on the back. Tilting his head down towards mine he whispers, "Hey, I'll try to come back when Carl does. Maybe bring a lady friend of mine with me. I want you and Mom to meet her. She's real nice. Very pretty. Big-"

"Big what, Glenn?" Michonne asks, Cyndie flanking her at her side.

"Uh. Big, uh…a big smile, Mom. Beautiful smile." Leaning over to kiss her on the cheek, he hugs her, and his sister in law, then beats a hasty retreat towards his truck, collecting his kids on the way. "Bye everyone!" He yells from the driver's side of his car, waving his hand from the window.

"Uh huh. Big smile my ass." Smirks Michonne.

"Goodbye, Mom, Dad." Cyndie leans in and hugs Michonne and I. Taking little Mason from his grandmother, she walks over to the van to head home with Carl.

Hearing commotion coming from the stables, I look over to see Junior, Jamie, Ezekiel, and Zeke Jr., closing up and latching the doors.

"What's going on over there?" Craning my neck to get a better look, I question out loud more to myself than to my wife.

Approaching Michonne and I, Junior, as he is known to do, takes charge and speaks up first. "Mom, Dad. We are about to head out, but we were helping Ezekiel and Zeke Jr. with a little surprise for Misha. Gonna need the horse trailer, but I'll bring it back. Is she still in the house?"

"Yes. Your wives are helping her pack up the last of her things. What's the surprise?" Michonne queries.

"I know that my beloved Misha feels bereft at the thought of leaving her homestead, and her parents behind. Given this, a preponderance of her predilections leads me to the conclusion that bringing her most favored horse, Buttons, with us to The Kingdom, may prove to ease her anxiety. I love her dearly, and only desire her happiness." Zeke Jr. answers.

In the same old English manner his father has become known for, my new son in law's thoughtful consideration of my daughter actually causes my lips to curl upward into an unexpected smile. "Thank you, Zeke. You're a good man. She'll love that. Her uncle Aaron gave her that horse last year." My wife is next to me smiling as well, a few tears escaping her eyes, hitting the apples of her cheeks.

"Mom, why are you crying?" Jamie asks, his blue eyes that he shares with his twin and I, focusing on his mother's face. "Are you ok?"

Junior and Jamie, always the smartest in the room, are identical in nearly every way, with the exception of the fact that Junior is generally more likely to shoot first and ask questions later. Jamie is still the more level headed of the two, but has been known to pull his gun, a colt python of his own, that he found on one of their border broadening trips. Both men are lean, about my height, with Junior wearing his curls a little longer, familiarly brushed back from his face, and Jamie keeping them cropped short and close, same as I am now. Their conception and birth will always hold a soft spot in my heart. Grimes men through and through, mischievous almost to a fault, I will never forget the wild times Michonne and I had keeping up with them. Curious beyond belief, we had an extremely hard time preventing them from wandering off, eating bugs, falling down steps, getting their little hands on Michonne's katana or my gun. Adding Glenn to the mix just one year later, and Carl's antics running after Cyndie, and our band of boys definitely added a touch to our lives that shocked the rest of my once dark brown hair, stark white.

Answering Jamie's question after her discrete attempt at wiping away her tears, Michonne reaches out to the twins, grabbing them both in a big hug, holding them tightly. "You boys helped with this surprise for your little sister? How wonderful and kind you two are." Beaming with pride at each of their faces, she plants big wet kisses on their cheeks, nuzzling each of them.

"Mom, have you been drinking?" Junior asks, chuckling at his mother's demonstrative display of affection.

"I have!" She exclaims happily. "Doesn't change the fact that you are both such good boys- ahem…men. You too, Zeke. Misha is going to be very happy with her surprise. Good job!"

"Thank you, Mrs. Grimes."

"Mom. Call me Mom." Patting at Zeke's cheeks, causing a scarlet flush to color his lightly tanned skin, Michonne also plants a big kiss on his cheeks as well.

"Ah, alas, here is my bride!" Zeke Jr. exclaims, seeing Misha exit the house over my wife's shoulder.

Strolling over to where we are all gathered, looking every bit the fairytale princess she is, Misha is wearing her mother's dress from the day she became my bride. Sharing a slightly coarser version of my mess of curls, they are gathered atop her head in a regal pouf, adorned with a jeweled comb in the front that draws to mind a crown. I can hear a long breath escape my new son in law's wide grinning lips, the haze of love blanketing him from head to toe. Anxious to be near her, he can't even wait the few minor seconds for her to fully reach us, instead his legs animate themselves, carrying him directly to her. Basking in the glow of each other's presence, initially they simply stare at each other, in a place where words are not necessary, only the shared message of love and adoration in their eyes.

"Look at them, Rick. This is good. They really love each other." Michonne wistfully mentions on a soft whisper, leaning her head on my shoulder.

"This is good. They both chose well." I agree, kissing the top of her head, squeezing her body close to mine.

"The wedding was both joyous and beautiful. I am delighted that our families are now officially joined under the bounteous bonds of matrimony!" Ezekiel loudly exclaims, shaking my hand as Michonne and I stand with him near his car as he prepares to depart and head back to The Kingdom.

"Thank you. It did turn out to be a wonderful day." Michonne agrees, her hand clasped in mine. "And the wine you brought was delicious. In fact, I may have had a little too much!"

"One would have never guessed m'lady. You were as light on your feet on the dance floor as a peacock feather. And just as beautiful!" He exclaims, clutching her hand and placing a lingering kiss across her dainty fingers.

"Oh! Thank you, Ezekiel."

"It is forever my pleasure, Michonne!"

"Ok, that's enough. Maybe you should get going before it gets too late, Ezekiel." I grumble, easing my wife's hand away from his clutches.

"Perhaps you are correct, Richard. I bid you farewell. Until we meet again, friends!" Exuberantly, and with a flourish, more pomp and circumstance than I care for, he departs.

"Come on, Mama." Leading her back up the path that leads to the house, she is a little wobbly on her feet. Taking hold of her elbow, I guide her to the long wooden swing on the porch. "Let's have a seat for a little bit, enjoy the night just a little more. Ok?"

"Good idea. I do seriously think I may have had too much of that wine, Rick! It tasted like straight grape juice." She giggles, and plops down sideways across my jean clad lap, my hand immediately gravitating to her plump ass.

In a burnt orange sundress, her elegant shoulders out, the skirt of the dress falls gracefully across her thighs. Lifting the hem higher, I'm running my palm up and across her velvety smooth skin, as we are taking in the immensity of the ink black sky above, dotted throughout with speckles of twinkling stars. Fingers massaging the nape of my neck, gliding her nails across my scalp, the soft puffs of her sweet breath across my cheek, this moment of peaceful solitude is perfect. Her other hand is rhythmically rubbing across my chest, underneath the bulk of my jean shirt, flitting through the sprinkling of hair there. Gently rocking the swing back and forth with the heels of my cowboy boots, engulfed by the hypnotic quiet, I am nearly startled by the softness of her voice breaking through my perusal of the sky.

"All of my babies are gone, Rick. It's just you and me, old man. Now what?" Michonne questions.

Taking a moment to give her question some thought, I turn my head to make eye contact with her, to steal a quick taste of her plush, pretty lips. "Well, I told you before, a long time ago, when we were holed up in a barn, taking shelter from the road. We do what we need to do, and then we live. We've raised a family of wonderful kids. Been blessed with a horde of grandkids. Killed and fought alongside and lost some great friends, family. And because of all of that fighting and struggling, we all made it, we're safe. Most importantly we have each other, we have eternity to be together, Chonne. Now we get to live, for just me and you, baby. Just for us. We have this future, this gift, because you led us here."

"No, Rick, we, led us here. We did this together, sweetheart, me and you." She asserts, removing her hand from my shirt, pointing her finger from herself then to me, pressing it to the spot above my heart.

"You're right, baby, you're always right. We did it together, me and you." Agreeing with her assertion, I adoringly place my palm to the side of her face, breathless at the sight of this beautiful woman. How amazingly sexy she is. How intense and freeing her love for me has always been. In that moment, I can no longer wait to be inside of her. To taste her arousal on my lips. Stopping the swing, I rise up, carrying her in my arms.

"Rick, what are you doing?" She sexily smirks at me, eyelashes lowering in a demure sweep.

"Taking my wife in the house, so I can fuck her." I grunt, hefting her over my shoulder in a fireman's carry. "She's been teasing me all day. Wearing this short, little sexy dress. Flirting and dancing with Ezekiel." I playfully swat her behind.

Raucous laughter leaves her lips, and I'm marching us across the threshold, kicking behind me to close the door with the sole of my boot. Not wanting to wait any longer, to take the extra time to get to our bedroom, I ease her down my chest and to her feet. Heavily panting, I lean my body on hers, pinning her up against the wall in the entry foyer, and drop to my knees. Ignoring the twinge of pain in the crackle of my knees on my way down, I'm too hungry for Michonne to care. Reaching under the skirt of her dress, taking hold of her panties with both hands, I slowly drag them down the long length of her creamy thighs and legs. Lifting her dainty feet to step out of them, I grab one of them and kiss each of her toes, then further up until I get to her knee, leaving a wet kiss behind it, a move that I know turns her on.

Lips parted, a breathy moan escapes her. Encouraging her to let loose, I toss her thigh over my shoulder. "Grab your skirt, Chonne, hold it up for me." I direct her. Nodding and pulling the skirt of her dress up around her waist, she reveals the wetness of her flowery lips to me. Overcome with lust, and an overwhelming desire to gorge and feast on her, I continue my kisses from her knee until I reach her sweet spot, where I suck and bite the already damp thickness of her inner thigh. "Mmmm…gotdamn, Chonne."

"Rick…" is all she can say at first. Composing herself, her piercing eyes latch on to mine, she whispers from her full lips, "Taste my pussy, Rick."

Closing my eyes, gathering every bit of control I can muster, I lick two of my fingers, and rub them indulgently through the cleft of her pussy. Spreading the lips apart, I unveil the delicate pink insides of my wife's juicy pussy, and proceed to devour her. Slowly, repeatedly licking her from her wet hole and up to her exposed clit, I'm like a man possessed. Feeling as though I can't get enough of her, my need for her too immense to be satisfied, I'm prodding at her hole, fucking her with my tongue, giving her the release I'm denying myself. Drenching my mouth and face with the evidence of her orgasm, Michonne releases a series of drawn out moans, each louder than the next. Crushing my head and face into her pussy with her free hand, I'm lashing and licking at her pearl, greedily slurping her sticky cum.

Releasing my head from her firm grasp, Michonne allows her own to fall back and rest against the wall, her face relaxed, eyes closed, features in repose. "Shit." She murmurs in between pants, weakly dropping the skirt of her dress over my head, lazily running her tongue across her lips.

Standing, smarting a bit again at the painful crackle of my knees, I'm again pinning my wife against the wall. "You like that?" I ask, my lips pecking little wet kisses on her forehead, her eyes, her nose, her cheeks. My hands behind her neck, I tilt her lips up to mine, and lick and suck her top, then her bottom lip.

"Yes, Rick. I like that." She gives me a nearly imperceptible nod to affirm her words, her eyes heavy with lust. Sticking her tongue out, I suck on its sweetness, giving her a little taste of herself. Now she's writhing against me, hands hastily unbuttoning my shirt, seeking the warmth of my chest. Accepting her tongue into my mouth, it tangles and slides against my own. As she removes my shirt from my shoulders, I push down the straps of her dress, releasing the bounty of her full rounded breasts. Leaning down, I graze my thumb along the peak of one blackberry colored nipple, suctioning the other into my mouth. Arching her back, eager for my attention, she's moaning and clutching at the back of my head again.

No longer able to withstand the tense pressure that has built in my groin, I pull back from her, needing a release. Quickly unbuckling my belt and pants, Michonne's slender fingers work fast, and in no time she's pushing my boxers and jeans to the floor. Stepping out of them, I lean down and place my arms under her thighs, lifting her up the wall. "Grab your skirt again, Chonne."

Lifting the skirt once more, she bites down on the hem, clenching it between her teeth. The sight of her like this, open and ready for me, threatens to undo me. Easing her down on my turgid flesh, her pussy swallows the entirety of my cock, the sight exciting me even more.

"Ahhh! That feels so good, Rick." She breathes from her pretty mouth, now slightly open, allowing the evidence of her pleasure to escape as I more firmly pin her to the wall with my weight, rhythmically pounding her flesh with the grind of my hips. "Ah! Ah! Ah!" She continues, attempting to maintain her mouth's hold on her skirt. Failing as her pink tongue licks at the corner of her lips, the skirt falls to gather at the crook of her thighs.

"Damn, Chonne, you feel amazing. Always so snug and wet for me. I've been needing you all day." Picking up the pace, I open her thighs wider, pushing them back further to get deeper inside my wife, to hit that fleshy bundle that will send her over the edge she's already teetering across.

Feverish with the tight sensation of the friction around my cock, I'm sweating and grunting into the crook of her neck. Sucking, licking, biting, kissing, I'm enraptured with the feel of her, and despite the frantic need to release, I want this feeling to last.

"Rick, that dick feels incredible! Mmmm…" I can feel her insides grasping me tightly with a pulsing sensation, announcing her pending climax. Seeking to intensify her orgasm, I stroke her clit, applying just a hint of pressure. Increasing the depth of my penetration, angling and thrusting my hips, my beautiful wife is breaking apart around me.

"You're so sexy, baby. Look at you, drenching my dick. Shit!" I'm taking in the glow of her skin, licking away the gloss of perspiration across her collarbone.

Having done this dance an innumerable amount of times over the years, Michonne knows when I'm close, and coming down from her own high, she begins a slow bounce and wind of her hips, dropping on to my dick with just enough force. It's driving me crazy. The twisting screw of her snug fit over me is almost too much. "You fuck me so good, Chonne. Keep going. Keep moving your ass like that. You got it, baby." I nod, closing my eyes at the gluttonous thrill of what she's doing to me.

Quickening my thrusts, I'm chasing the delicious burst of my orgasm. It's right there, a hair's breadth away. I'm pounding, digging, the wet smack of our bodies crashing against each other sounds across the room. The hard piston of my hips is driving her thick body further up the wall, her pretty breasts bouncing against my chest. Reaching out for me, she holds my face in her hands, then kisses me. Her firm, sloppy, wet kiss, the sound of her moaning into my mouth, it all finally tips me over. My body tenses with the shock of pleasure, electrifying and locking my limbs in place. Growling, the flush of satisfaction covers my skin, leaving behind a dusting of goose bumps dotting my flesh.

Releasing her legs from the crook of my arms, I'm crouching to gently place my wife on her feet. Giddy, her palm covering her face, unsteady on her feet, limbs weak, Michonne breaks out into a whoop of laughter. Standing naked in front of her, still trying to compose myself, her fit is contagious, and I find myself laughing as well, but not really sure why.

"What are we laughing at, Chonne?" I ask in between chuckles. Hands on my hips I'm awaiting her answer.

"I don't know, Rick. I'm just laughing…at us I guess." Coming closer to me, seductively rubbing her body up against mine, she looks me directly in the eyes, holding me close and whispers on a wide grin. "Carrying your wife in the house. Fucking in the entryway, up against a wall." Slowly stroking my tight biceps, she continues, "Who's old now, Deputy?"

Remembering the many references our kids made today to our advanced ages, I smile, knowing damn well I'm not old. And neither is she.

"Shit, give me an hour. I'll be ready to go again, Counselor."

"I know you will, Deputy. I'm counting on it." Turning, she ambles away from me towards our bedroom, her fat bottom teasing me with its swing back and forth.

Wiping sweat from my eyes, I can feel the pull of sleep threatening to drag me away into dream land. I want to fight it, recover and have my way with my sexy ass wife again. But it's a losing fight, and feeling every one of my sixty plus years, the stinging ache in my knees, the dull pain in my back, I holler down the hall to my sweetheart, the love of my life. "Chonne, maybe give me two hours?"