Jul 05, 2012 07:43
Michonne woke up to keys on the bathroom counter last week, with a note that said 'Haurvatat Law.' So, that was that. She's not sure much is changing, other than being out of the police station and into her own building. She'd spent a day or so with Natasha, cleaning the place out so that it was workable. And in the end, it looked good. A law firm in a place with no real laws.
Go figure.
She's been ignoring a voice in the back of her head that sounds suspiciously like Mike, telling her that she's getting comfortable. That she's doing a real fine job of pretending this is what life is now. Daryl and Sophia and them bringing her lunch. Her cooking them dinner. She's not sure why she shouldn't enjoy it while she can.
Opening the front doors of the firm, she sits just inside at what's normally the receptionist desk. There's no need for that, not right now, so it's Michonne sitting and trying to figure out what could be upheld by law in this place versus things that are too vague for that. Drinking, for example. In some places it's legal at eighteen, in others, sixteen. And if you're from a really specific time, when you're a kid you get a glass with dinner. But the other things - fighting, stealing, hell, even littering - they could use some structure.