A/N: I will hopefully be updating 'The New Beginning' very soon. Don't worry, I didn't abandon it. I am in the process of writing the next chapter. It's a bit difficult because I hate what I've written so far. I finally have a lot more free time to write, so hopefully this story will help me get into the mind frame for writing.
Chapter One: The Beautiful Stranger
It was the night of one of the worst snowstorm's in Virginia's history when Rick first saw her. He was driving back from the store and she was sitting in her car on the shoulder of the road with a dead cell phone and a blinking broken-down car while the heavy snow plummeted to the ground.
His nine-year-old son, Carl, had met his eyes when they saw the raised hood and blinking lights. "We should help?" he said through a mouthful of potato chips.
Rick pulled off to the side of the road. "Wait here."
He stepped out of his truck, approaching what appeared to be a woman sitting in the car. As he grew closer he saw her eyes slightly widen at the sight of him. "You okay?" he asked when she hastily rolled down her window.
"Yeah…I mean no. Not really. I think I'm a little lost." She stepped out of the car, pulling her jacket tighter against her body, and balled her hands into fists in reaction to the cold air. She wore flowy colorful clothing and wasn't particularly dressed for standing on the side of a road in rural Virginia during a winter storm. "I'm trying to get back to Alexandria. I think I took a wrong turn or something. I stopped to try to figure out where I am, but then my car wouldn't start and now I'm stuck here."
"You sure did take a wrong turn. Did you contact roadside assistance?"
She hesitated before finally answering. "My phone died. I didn't have any service when I tried to make a call anyway." She looked conflicted as she pressed her full lips together in a slight grimace. "Do you have a phone on you? I need to call for some help. Also, can you possibly tell me where exactly I am."
"I don't have a phone on me," he said apologetically. "I left it back at the farm since I rarely have any service around here anyway."
"Fucking great," she groaned, slumping back against her car in defeat. "This day can't get any worse before it's over."
"You can ride back with us and we can call for a tow truck or something," he suggested. "I highly doubt you'd get any tonight though. This is a pretty secluded area and this storm is supposed to be bad. They're expecting eight inches and they think it might be the worst since 1983."
She took a small step closer to her car door as her dark eyes quickly darted between him and her car as she considered his offer. "I get it," he chuckled. "Going off with a stranger is not always the best idea. But, I've gotta tell you. That snow is coming down harder and harder and you're not going to make it back to the city tonight. You can trust me. I have no reason to hurt you or anyone."
She smiled tightly. "Right."
"My place is not too far from here." He looked back at the car where Carl was staring intently out of the windshield. "We are actually just getting back from picking up supplies."
"We?"
"My son Carl and I."
"This better not end in my murder," she grumbled and he could hear the small waver in her voice. She cocked her head and raised a challenging brow at him. "Try anything and I'll kick your ass."
She turned back to her car, opening her door to grab her personal belongings, which consisted of her handbag and an orange medium sized travel duffel.
Rick held the front passenger door for her to get in while Carl curiously observed the woman from his seat in the back of the truck. "Hi, I'm Carl."
"Michonne." Her lips curled into that breathtaking smile that Rick would come to love like no other as the years passed. It stood out in a beautiful contrast against her mahogany skin. "And what about you Mr. Samaritan?"
"Rick," he said as he started the truck.
She hummed, flipping her dark dreadlocked hair, which was sprinkled with snow, over her shoulder. "Nice to meet you, Rick and Carl. Thanks a lot for stopping to help."
"We're happy to."
The short ride to the farm was mostly a quiet one. Rick drove along the bumpy dirt road, cautiously aware of Michonne's discomfort with the seclusion of where they were headed. The farm was covered in shrubbery and overgrown trees from years of disuse.
He drove as close as he could manage to the main house, putting the car in park. "This is us."
"Dad and I are gonna be farmers," Carl proclaimed somewhat proudly.
"Really? That sounds like fun."
"Yeah. We're even getting another horse and some more animals and everything. And we're going to grow food."
They stepped out of the truck and Rick watched as Michonne took in the dark Victorian style house with old unshuttered windows. In the darkness of the night it must have looked like something out of a horror movie. He fished out his keys as he led the way up the front steps. The front door opened with a loud creak and he quickly flipped on the lights as to not make an already seemingly creepy situation any more uncomfortable.
"You're just in time for dinner." He dropped his keys on the table near the door, stepping back so they could enter and he could close the door.
"Am I?" She gave him a small smile. "Well how about I use the phone first? I'd really like to figure out my situation first before diving into what I'm sure is a wonderful meal."
"Oh right," he said. He had completely forgotten about the main purpose for her presence in his new home. "This way." He led her to the wall phone in the room, which was more of a hallway, just off the kitchen. "It's a bit old fashioned," he explained. "We haven't fully settled in yet."
When he met her eyes, they were soft and filled with a mixture of gratitude and curiosity. "Thank you, Rick."
His heartbeat quickened at the sound of his name on her lips. It was as if her mouth caressed every syllable of every word she spoke. Instead of a verbal response, he simply nodded and left her to make her call in private and returned to the kitchen where he began making three placements for dinner. He was certain that she would not be able to leave that night and he would need to also get one of the guest bedrooms ready for her.
"What's for dinner?" Carl asked, pulling out a chair at the table.
Rick was completely useless in the kitchen and often relied on his sister-in-law's generosity and love for cooking. Their freezer happened to be stocked with her premade meals. "Your aunt's vegetarian lasagna. I preheated the oven before I left."
Carl shrugged. "As long as you didn't make it, I'm cool."
"I'm getting better," he defended, as he pulled out the containers to heat the food. "You liked my potatoes."
Carl averted his gaze before plastering on a wide smile. "Sure. You did a good job Dad."
"Thanks for sparing my feelings son."
"Any time."
As Rick put their dinner in the oven he couldn't help but listen as Michonne's clearly irritated voice echoed from the other room.
"Michael, I've told you before," her heard her say. He imagined her brow was furrowed and her free arm crossed in front of her. "Because that's who you are to me. I knew better than to expect more. I don't understand how you always manage to ruin things for me no matter how far away I am from you. You're like a fucking cancer." She paused no doubt, because the person on the other end was talking over her. "Leave him right where he is. He's fine with my mother."
The sound of the phone slamming down echoed through the house and Carl looked up from his handheld game, meeting his father's eyes.
The house was deathly silent for a few minutes before soft padding of feet alerted them of her approach. They quickly averted their gaze, pretending that he hadn't been listening to every word she said after she hung up with the towing service, then called a woman named Sasha before finally making a call this person named Michael.
"Bad news all around," she sighed, pressing her hand to her forehead as she reentered the kitchen.
"It's a good thing we have lots of extra room," Carl piped up, his eyes quickly flitting to his father.
"Thanks." She smiled warmly at Carl. "I just really needed to get home, though." It explained why she felt inclined to drive when there clearly was a storm coming.
"Hopefully it will clear up by tomorrow and your car situation can get sorted out. It might be a while for the plows though." Rick gestured for her to take a seat at one of the placements. "I hope you like lasagna."
"It smells really good in here, so I'm sure I'll love it. I'm actually starving."
"Dinner will be served in…" Carl looked at his watch. "Thirty-two more minutes."
"Sorry," Rick smiled apologetically. "It'll be a little while. We don't usually eat this late, but we've been running errands all day."
"I'm not complaining," she said sinking down into one of the chairs. "I'm just glad I'm no longer stranded on the side of the road in the middle of nowhere. I really appreciate you stopping and helping me."
"Glad we could help." Rick took a seat across from her, his eyes hardly leaving her. He didn't think he'd ever seen a face quite as beautiful as hers. Her eyes were wide and doe-like and she had beautifully rounded lips that look like they could produce kisses like no other.
"Hey Michonne?" Carl regarded her with curiosity. "What do you do? Are you an actress or something?"
She laughed, her dark eyes twinkling at the suggestion. "I'm actually an artist slash wedding planner slash mother."
"Cool," he grinned. "You have kids?"
"Just one," she answered. "His name is André and he's four." Rick quickly glanced down at her hand, feeling inexplicably relieved to see her bare left ring finger. The relief quickly subsided when he realized that there could still be someone even if her hand was ringless.
They conversed about art, the creative culture of Alexandria, Virginia and the weather for some time and before they knew it, the food was ready to leave the oven.
"This is really delicious Rick," Michonne said, as she took her first bite of her dinner. "You're a chef too?"
"I wish I could take credit, but this is all my sister-in-law's doing," he admitted. "I'm learning though. I'm going to have to if Carl and I plan on surviving here."
Shortly after dinner, Rick showed Michonne to the downstairs guest bedroom leaving her to her own devices as he accompanied his son upstairs. He figured she might feel safer on the first floor where she was closer to the exit.
"I like her," Carl said simply after he had climbed into his bed. "She's really cool."
Rick's lips turned up in a small smile as he regarded the boy. It had been nice seeing him so interactive with someone outside their immediate close friends and family. They had endured one tragedy after another and after the passing of his mother, Carl had reverted into himself. Then farm came as an unexpected opportunity for them to start over, but it also brought with it isolation.
"Yeah. She seems nice."
"You know, you don't have to tuck me in anymore."
Rick raised a brow at his son. "Getting too old for that?"
Carl shrugged, not meeting his eyes. "Don't know. Maybe."
"Alright." He placed a quick kiss on his forehead. "Whatever you say. Goodnight son."
Carl let out a loud yawn, his eyes beginning to droop with tiredness. "Night Dad."
When he returned downstairs, she was standing near the fireplace in their expansive living room calmly taking in the bareness of his new home.
"Came back to murder me now that the kid is finally asleep?"
"Can't sleep actually. You know, I understood your hesitation," he said, attempting to make conversation. "You really can't trust most people these days."
"True." Her smile was hypnotizing and he almost felt as if he was under a spell. There was a light that resonated within her that was absolutely captivating. "I admire your helpfulness though. For all you know I could be a killer. Don't make underestimations Mr. Grimes."
"I try not to," he said, walking further into the room. He wanted to be closer to her. "As a cop, I was trained to look for certain things."
She raised her eyebrow, giving him a onceover slowly circling him. "A cop? You didn't mention that while you were trying to pick me up. I guess it kind of makes sense though. You seem cop-ish."
"Sheriff to be exact," he clarified. "I don't do that anymore though."
"I can see that." She looked pointedly around the room. "You look a little young for retirement though. Unless it was something else. Suspension turned permanent termination? I hope you weren't abusing your power Sherriff."
He shook his head, plopping down on the couch with a heavy sigh as he thought about his past two years of bombshells and tragedies. "Sometimes it's just time to give it all up. Begin again."
"So, you became a farmer instead." Her voice sounded incredulous, which was understandable because it seemed clear that he wasn't completely certain about the whole farmer business. There really wasn't much he was completely certain about anymore these days.
"It's a work in progress." He glanced at the pictureless walls and the living room devoid of anything overtly personal. "We haven't gotten a chance to decorate yet," he explained feeling slightly self-conscious. He didn't know why he was telling her this. "We still have some remodeling to do."
She met his eyes, giving him that warm smile of hers. "I think it has character." She slowly paced the room. "There's a lot of potential here Rick. I'd be happy to come back and offer some decorating expertise if I make it out of here alive."
"I'll hold you to that." He certainly wouldn't mind seeing her face again.
"That sounds promising for me. Plus, I'm enjoying your company so far so that won't be too bad." She strode over to him, taking a seat on the couch beside him. A smile played on her lips as she angled her body towards him. "Now, tell me. Why can't you sleep?" Her wide brown eyes seemed to gaze into his soul. "Still a bit creeped out by your great big new house? This place his huge."
"That, amongst other things," he chuckled feeling surprisingly at ease around her. "I haven't had a decent night's sleep in ages actually."
"What happened?"
He looked at her confused. "You're a seemingly single father in a new house and what I assume to be a new town and you seem a little in over your head."
"Wow. Well someone's observant."
"So I've been told." Her voice was gentle and her eyes were the kindest he's ever seen on a person. "You don't have to tell me if you're not comfortable with that."
"You sure you're not a psychiatrist?" he joked. But for the first time since it happened, he wanted to talk about his dead ex-wife and his unexpected inheritance of an old farm that was at one point very prosperous. He felt her soft hand wrapping around one of his and was filled with warmth at the simple contact.
"Almost positive," she grinned. "Although, I've heard art can be beneficial for mental and emotional ailments."
"Well, I'm originally from Georgia. I used to be a sheriff in a small town outside Atlanta. I loved my job and I loved my life up until about two years ago when everything started going south." He paused staring at the shadows the low light casted on walls. "My marriage fell apart, I got a divorce, then six months ago Carl lost his mother, so it's just the two of us now. On a farm that my father-in-law left for me."
She gave his hand a comforting squeeze and everything seemed to spill out of him. He told her about his struggle to comfort his son and his need to begin again. When the conversation started getting heavy they moved on to conversing about a plethora of general subjects, never getting any more personal, and Rick was surprised to find that they even shared some commonalities. They were also both from Georgia and relatively new to Virginia. As the time passed, it was clear there was an attraction between them and he frequently found himself pulling his eyes away from her beautifully full lips.
"You have extremely terrible taste in music Rick," she laughed after he explained in detail his love for a particular obscure country band. "It's unbelievable. It's so bad."
"You just don't appreciate the classics. Shame on you."
He was enjoying her company and she seemed to be enjoying his and the prospect of their conversation ending saddened him. He could listen to her voice all night.
He wanted to listen to her voice all night and perhaps much longer.
She was quiet now, staring into his eyes with her deep brown eyes. The room was silent except for their breathing and the air between them was electrifying and heavy with sexual tension. Her eyes quickly flitted to his lips, but she otherwise remained motionless.
Her soft melodic voice broke the silence. "Shall we call it a night?"
Instead on responding, he found himself leaning forward towards her. Her breathing hitched as he cupped her face with his hand, softly brushing her mahogany cheek with his thumb. Without even thinking their lips met in the dimly lit room and he found himself hovering over her as they kissed slowly and sensually.
She seemed content to let him lead and relaxed back against the couch, as her fingers found his hair running through his dark curls. She let out a soft moan as his hands began to explore her body. His lips moved away from hers, ghosting along her collarbone as his hands slipped under the hem of her sweater. He grabbed her leg wrapping it around his waist and he was sure she could feel his erection through the fabric of their pants as their kiss deepened.
He pushed himself off her with one hand and the other remained under her sweater just below her breast. "Sorry for mauling you like that. I've been wanting to kiss you for hours," he said through heavy breaths. He didn't want her to feel as though he expected something in return for the kindness he showed. "Don't –"
"I know." Her pupils were dilated. "Don't worry. The attraction is mutual." She folded her arms around his neck, pulling him in for another kiss. Her fingers found his hair once again and he started kissing her neck, sucking her skin and inhaling her intoxicating scent.
"I don't usually do things like this and I'd hate to get caught," she said breathily as his lips moved lower.
He let out a heavy sigh, brushing his lips against her collarbone as he considered why it wouldn't be wise to continue. "Neither do I."
She continued to run her fingers lazily through his hair. Although, they would not be taking things any further than heated kissing on that night, Rick couldn't help but hope for another day. Another opportunity to lay eyes on the beautiful woman again once they went their separate ways in the morning.
He sat back on his haunches, his eyes never leaving her as she remained on her back her locks splayed around her head like a halo. She looked remarkably angelic in the dim light and he wanted nothing more than to feel her delicately sculpted body against his.
"Maybe we could see each other again after this," she said sweetly. "You know, when the storm clears up. I'd love to see Rick Grimes again sometime."
It sounded like a date was in their future."
"I wouldn't mind seeing you gain either." He didn't miss the suggestiveness of her tone and he tried to discretely adjust himself. "So, now would be when we call it a night."
Michonne nodded, adjusting her rumpled clothing as she stood up. "Night Rick. See you in the morning?"
"When?"
"When what?"
"When can I see you again?"
"I have an art exhibit next Saturday in Alexandria. Maybe you can come by if you're free. I'll give you the address."
He nodded slowly as he rose from the couch, walking slowly and deliberately to where she stood. His hand found her hip and he pulled her in for another kiss. It was quicker this time, but they were both left catching their breaths. "Now it's goodnight."
A smile played on her lips and she simply nodded before strolling out of the room, heading down the hallway that led to the guest room. Rick shut his eyes trying to get himself in check. That night, as he walked to his own bedroom, the prospect of seeing her again fresh on his mind, something occurred to him. How on earth did she know his last name?
A/N: Let me know what you think. This is just an idea that came to me and it will be fun to write.
Next update is for 'The New Beginning'
