A/N: Yep. Another new one. Don't worry. I promise I'm gonna keep working on my old ones that aren't finished yet. I've just found that it's better, though, to just write what I feel like writing in the moment rather than force myself to write on something because I know I need to. The urges to write on those other stories will come, and I'm just going to let it happen when it happens. If I don't, I'll just continue to think of the fics I should be working on and not being able to write rather than just writing whatever comes and letting you guys enjoy it.

Chapter One

Rick doesn't notice her at first, the girl who sidles up to the bench he's occupying and gingerly places her bag down on the ground next to it. But he becomes aware of her when she sits down and her lavender scent wafts over to him. He glances over.

A dark-skinned girl with dreadlocks pulled into a ponytail, cascading down her back. Headphones are over her ears, and a CD player is in her hands.

He glances around, as if looking for where she came from. He's not familiar with her. He hasn't seen her around. And that's a little strange to him. He's been living in the same home since he was a baby, in a suburban neighborhood in Georgia. He's at least glimpsed everyone who tends to traipse the streets or live in the neighboring homes. 'Maybe she just moved in,' he thinks, but also thinks it strange that he hasn't seen any moving vans in the past weeks.

He doesn't even realize that he must be staring until she looks over at him, meeting his eyes. His face flushes red, and he hopes that she doesn't think he's weird for being caught staring. He motions for her to slide her headphones off of her ears. She does.

"Hi," he said, holding out his hand for a handshake. "I'm Rick."

The girl takes his hand and shakes it. "Friends call me Shoney." She doesn't really smile with her introduction. Rick hopes he didn't interrupt her by introducing himself.

"Friends call you that, but is that your real name?" he asks.

He gets a small smile. "Full name's Michonne."

"That's pretty," Rick says. He can't help himself. It is a beautiful name. "Is it okay if I call you that?"

A hitch to her eyebrow strangely seems to hook something inside of Rick, pulling a stray beat from his heart – a beat he's pretty sure he might need. Surprised at his reaction to the stranger, Rick chuckles. "You plan to get to know me well enough to use my name more than once?" she asks, her voice a smooth lilt.

Rick's lips rise in a small, hopeful smile. "Well, I'd like to. You go to Washington High?"

The high school in the small, Southern town of King County, Georgia was what Rick was referring to. A widespread joke was that the high school was King County's only major attraction. Because the only reason someone would come from another town or city to visit was to watch one of their sports games.

She shakes her head before responding. "Nope." Rick's heart sinks a little. "I go to St. George's."

"The private school?" Rick's voices raises in slight surprise, and no wonder. The private school is about 40 miles away on the other side of town and only rich people and nuns go there – at least that's what the public high school population thinks. He then becomes aware of her outfit and notices that she is in a uniform. A fitted blue blazer jacket, white shirt underneath, tucked into a neat, pleated, matching blue skirt. "What are you doing down here?"

Michonne shrugs. "Skipping school."

"Why?" Rick asks.

Michonne shrugs again. "Just 'cause." Michonne unplugs her headphones from her CD player, takes them from around her neck and stashes both items into the bag at her feet. She then pulls out a pack of already opened cigarettes and a lighter. She puts the thin, white cylinder between her full lips and lights the end. Inhaling, causing the end of the stick to burn brighter. Noticing that Rick is staring, she tilts the pack towards him. "You want one?"

Rick shakes his head 'no'. He's a good kid. Everything in his world and world view is black and white. His thinking aligned with what his dad had always told him – only delinquents and losers smoked. That's what he used to think. But watching this beautiful girl that sat beside him inhale and exhale, blowing smoke gently into the air, it had never seemed so becoming.

Michonne put the pack of cigarettes into a pocket on her blazer jacket. "So you go to Washington High?" she asks.

"Yeah," Rick answers.

"You waiting for the bus?" She flicks ash onto the ground at their feet.

"Yeah," Rick says again. He vaguely wonders what his friends will think when the bus pulls up and they see him sitting next to this smoking new girl. Smoking in more ways than one.

She looks over her shoulder, towards Rick's large house, and then back at him. "You live in the suburbs," she says. "It looks like your folks are pretty well off. You don't have a car? To drive yourself to school?"

Rick searches around for an answer. He wonders if she's disappointed. He hopes not. "Uhh, it's important to my family that we work for everything we get. So...they told me if I wanted a car, I had to get a job and get one. They're not gonna buy me one."

Michonne nods. "And are you working for one?"

Still a little unsure about why she's asking, Rick realizes he's been put in a position where he feels he needs to win her approval. Suddenly recalling his friend Shane – who always teases him about his lack of play with girls – he realizes he needs to take control of the situation. He smirks. "Why?" he asks. "You wanna take a ride with me some time?"

Michonne's eyebrows rise again, and again Rick's heartbeats follow the movement. He gets another small smile. "Maybe," she says coyly.

Rick's face flushes. This is the first time a girl has ever been so direct in flirting with him. He chuckles, not sure where to go next. "I do have my driver's license," he says. "And my parents left in my dad's car-"

"Great," Michonne says, before he's even done speaking. "Let's go."

"Go?" Rick asks, surprised.

"Yeah, skip school with me," Michonne says with a smile.

And it's then that Rick knows he's in trouble. That smile makes his stomach twist and flutter with excitement akin to the feeling he gets whenever he goes over the peak of a roller coaster. "And go where?" he asks.

"Anywhere," Michonne answers with her signature shrug.

"What will we do?" His verb usage gives away the fact that he's already willing to go with her.

"Anything," Michonne says with another beguiling smile.

"I have a test today," Rick says, knowing logically that he should resist this girl's crazy scheme but knowing instinctively that his resistance is futile.

"You sure do," Michonne responds. "The Michonne test. And we're about to see if you pass or fail."

The sound of an engine is heard and, looking towards the end of the street, Rick sees the bus right at the corner. He takes Michonne's hand and says, "Watch me pass with flying colors." And he begins to run with her. Michonne makes sure to snatch her bag off of the ground as they go.

Rick doesn't let go of her hand as they run. He's not even really sure of where they're running to. The only thing he's aware of is the sound of Michonne's laughter behind him. It's the first time he's hearing it, and he won't forget it any time soon. Or ever.

He finally stops when they get to a lake at the edge of town. Kids sometimes come here to make out. Rick isn't sure if Michonne knows of that fact since she isn't from this part of town. He hopes she doesn't because he doesn't want her to think he's trying to pull a fast one on her. He turns around and finds Michonne breathing heavily with her hands on her knees. He rubs her back. "Maybe you shouldn't smoke so much."

Michonne stands up and reaches in her pocket for her pack of cigarettes, in direct defiance of Rick's words. She lights her cigarette rebelliously and blows smoke off to the side. Rick smirks and shakes his head. "Here. Take your jacket off," he says.

Michonne pockets her cigarettes again and does as he says gladly. It's a hot spring day.

Rick takes her jacket and lays it beneath a large tree that will shade them from the sun. They sit and watch the rays of the sun sparkle on the surprisingly clear water of the lake. "The town got together and cleaned this lake up because kids like to dive in it and stuff," Rick said, commenting on the clear waters.

Michonne nods. "That makes sense."

Rick looks at Michonne's profile. They're sitting closer than the were on the bench. His heart beats fast in his chest, and he wonders if he is having anywhere as close to the kind of affect on her as she is having on him. It doesn't seem like it. Her aura is cool and collected, almost uncaring. That only draws Rick in more. Still feeling the adrenaline of running away from responsibilities, Rick reaches into the pocket of Michonne's blazer and gets a cigarette of his own. He puts it between his lips and then leans in to light his cigarette with Michonne's own.

Michonne's eyes stray to Rick's lips as he pulls away. "I thought you were against smoking," she says.

"I never said that," Rick replies. He inhales deeply, feels the smoke go into his lungs, and then he coughs wildly on the exhale.

Michonne laughs and takes the cigarette from between his fingers. "Give me that. I've been enough of a bad influence on you today. We won't add smoking to the list." She puts both his and her cigarette out on the ground beside them. Rick coughs a few more times, trying to contain himself. He's embarrassed, but he's not going to show it. "I was expecting to go for a drive today after you brought up your mom's car."

Rick coughs one last time and then glances at her. "I know. Sorry to get your hopes up. It's just that I can't take my parents' car without permission."

Michonne tilts her head. "Well, you could."

"What was it you just said?" Rick asks playfully. "No more being a bad influence."

Michonne smiles. "Right. Sorry."

Rick lies on his side, facing Michonne, and props his head up on his hand. Michonne mirrors him.

"So tell me about your parents," Michonne says.

Rick does. His dad is the sheriff, his mom is a dental assistant. He has a pretty perfect life, blah blah blah blah blah. Michonne is more interested in watching his lips move than really listening to the words coming out of his mouth.

"What about yours?" Rick asks.

Michonne snaps out of her trance and realizes that he's asking about her parents. "My mom is gone, and my dad is a lawyer." That's all she says. She doesn't have a long story like Rick.

"Oh, I'm sorry about your mom," Rick says.

"Don't be," Michonne replies. "She's not dead. She's just gone. She just packed her bags and left when I was about eight."

"Oh," Rick says again. "I'm sorry," he repeats. "Sorry. I don't know what else to say."

"It's okay," Michonne says.

Rick looks at Michonne's hand lightly rubbing over the jacket between them – just for something to do, he guesses – and he lightly touches it. When she stops the movement of her hand but doesn't protest, he gently places his fingers between hers, intertwining them. They lay like that for a while and then Michonne pulls away. "Stop," she says with a coy smile.

Rick reaches for her hand again. "Stop what?"

"Stop grabbing my hand." She's still smiling, so Rick knows she's being playful with him.

"Why?" he asks.

Michonne turns over onto her back, her dreads fanning out below her as she lies on the ground. "Only my boyfriend is allowed to hold my hand," she teases.

"You have a boyfriend?" Rick asks, hoping she's just messing with him.

She looks over at Rick. "What if I do?"

"Do you?" Rick asks again.

Michonne laughs, amused by Rick's interest on the subject. "I'm not gonna tell you."

"You have to," Rick says.

"No, I don't," Michonne teases again.

Rick sighs deeply, letting his frustration be known. Michonne laughs again. "Do people skinny dip at this lake?" she asks.

Rick peers at her thinking, 'she won't'. "Yeah," Rick says. "I've heard of people doing it, but I've never been around when it happened."

Michonne sits up and gives Rick that trouble-making smile again.

"Oh, come on," Rick says. "You won't tell me if you have a boyfriend, but you'll skinny dip in front of me?"

Michonne unbuttons the top button of her white shirt. "You don't want me to?"

Rick's eyes fix to Michonne's opened button and the small area of skin he sees there. "No," he says unconvincingly.

Michonne laughs and unbuttons another button. Then another. And another. She's surprising herself. Under Rick's sharp, blue eyes, she is almost eager to show him her body. She stops, her heart pounding in her chest. "Take your clothes off too," she says.

Rick's eyes move from Michonne's buttons to her face. He's almost holding his breath in anticipation of seeing her. But to get back at her for the boyfriend tease, he says, "I don't want to go skinny dipping."

Michonne frowns. "Do you want to pass the Michonne test or not?"

Rick jumps into the lake wearing only his boxer briefs. "Woohoo!" Michonne, who is already in the water wearing a simple, black bra and panty set tries to avoid the splash he creates. It's not exactly skinny dipping but close enough. Michonne decided to show Rick a little bit of mercy at the last second because he had been flushing so bad she thought he might faint from the rush of blood to his head.

The minute he jumps in the lake, Rick swims out to the middle where Michonne is. He picks her up and playfully dunks her beneath the surface. She comes back up readily and pushes his head down to dunk him as well. Laughing, they horse around for a few more minutes. Rick enjoys the way their skin feels against each other as they brush together underneath the water. He feels the length between his legs begin to grow and harden.

Michonne attempts to push his head down again, but he wraps his arms around her and swims her over to the bank of the lake and then he releases her. Michonne knows he intends to kiss her when he stares into her eyes. Her lips part, ready. Rick sees the invitation and goes for it. His lips touch hers and he has never felt a more glorious feeling. Her lips are full and soft and warmth spreads throughout his body. Her arms fall around his shoulders. The still water laps against them with each small breeze and their bodies move rhythmically and slightly in the buoyancy of the water.

Rick pushes Michonne's lips open wider so that he can get better access to her tongue. Michonne involuntarily moans as the kiss deepens. She feels Rick's hardness brushing against her beneath the calm water.

"Will I see you again?" Rick asks, pulling away from her lips for a moment.

"I don't know," Michonne said. "I have to see what my boyfriend says."

Rick huffs and Michonne laughs. She could get used to this. Making this guy frustrated. And happy. And hard.

She runs her hand down his torso until she reaches the area between his legs. She palms his dick. Rick's breath hitches.

A sudden bout of nerves comes over Rick. "I'm a virgin," he admits, blushing. "I'm waiting for marriage."

Michonne smiles. "Of course you are." She's attracted to his innocence. "I'm just gonna make you feel good..." she whispered. "If that's okay."

She slips her hand into his boxer briefs, touching his member. It's hot on her skin. A sharp intake of breath comes from Rick. No one has touched him like this before. The knowledge of that makes Michonne's center throb. "Is this okay?" she asks.

Rick nods, unable to form words.

Michonne pushes his underwear down below his hips and wraps her hand around his hard shaft. Rick's mouth falls open and his eyes close with pleasure. Michonne watches all of this closely, getting hotter and hotter between her own legs. She begins to stroke Rick's length. His body sways gently in the water with each soft tug of her hand.

He opens his eyes and they keep eye contact as she strokes him. He can see the evidence of her own arousal in her eyes. In the way that she bites her lips between her teeth.

He slips his hand beneath the surface of the water and palms her over her panties. "Mmm," she moans. She lifts her leg onto a nearby rock, giving him better access. "Touch me some more," she pleads. Rick obliges. He rubs her center of heat as she pumps her hand over his manhood.

Somewhere in the back of his mind, Rick wonders about the strangeness of how events unravel. When he went to sleep last night, he had no idea he would meet this girl. When he woke up that morning and ate breakfast, he had no idea that anything other than the usual would happen to him. He thought he would be sitting in class taking a trigonometry test instead of going farther than he had ever gone with a girl out at Kingston Lake. A girl he barely knows at that.

He kisses Michonne deeply as both of them begin to speed up their pleasuring of the other. Their tongues clash and their pants fill the spring air.

He pushes his hand beneath the band of her underwear and begins to massage her directly. He wants to slip his fingers inside, but he doesn't want to risk being clumsy and embarrassing himself. He elects that he has to read up on how to do that when he gets back home.

He feels himself close to climaxing and he grits his teeth. He focuses his attentions for her on where he knows the clitoris is supposed to be. She moans. "I'm coming, Rick, I'm coming."

But before either of them can reach that climax, a voice interrupts them. "Hey! What are you kids doing there?"

Michonne and Rick stop their ministrations immediately. "Shit," Michonne whispers.

Rick looks over to see who has interrupted them and sees the source of her stress, a cop. He hurriedly pulls his underwear up over his behind. He's blushing fiercely when the cop reaches them. It's a friend of his father's, Michael Langsley.

"Rick?" Michael asks, when he's close enough to see who's messing around in the lake. He puts his hands on his hips. "Aren't you supposed to be in school?"

"Hey, Mr. Langsley," he says, not knowing what else to say.

"And who is this?" Mr. Langsley asks.

Rick looks over to see that Michonne is avoiding looking at the policeman. "This is-"

"A friend," Michonne interrupts Rick.

"Uh-huh..." Mr. Langsley says suspiciously. "Y'all know skinny dipping is illegal, right? This is public property."

"We're not exactly skinny dipping," Rick mutters.

"Still, this ain't the beach," Langsley says. "And y'all were definitely doing more than swimming out here, which is also illegal." Rick blushes another shade of red. "What you got to say for yourself, son?"

Rick shakes his head, hating how careless he was. But he knows he needs to smooth over this situation for Michonne. "If you don't tell my dad," he says. "And let both of us off, I'll come file all of your paperwork in my free time." He knew no one at the precinct liked the tediousness of doing paperwork.

"Oh, now you're bribing a police officer," Langsley says. "I'm really surprised at you, Rick." He pauses. "But since you are my best friend's son and I ain't never known you to act up before, I'ma be lenient. But I better not see y'all out here again. If I catch you again, you're both going home with fines. I'll be back in ten minutes to make sure y'all are dressed and gone. And Rick? Tomorrow afternoon, 4pm sharp."

Langsley walks away, and they both wait until he's gone before they climb out of the water. "That was embarrassing," Rick mutters.

"Yeah," Michonne says. She picks her discarded clothes off of the ground and puts them on. "Well," she says, when she's dressed. "Thanks for hanging out with me today. It's been fun." She starts to put her jacket on and Rick stops her.

"Wait. Can I have your number? I want to see you again," he says.

Michonne smirks. "You give me yours and I'll call you."

Rick huffs – causing Michonne to smile – but he pulls a pen out of his pocket and writes his number on the palm of her hand. Michonne looks at the number. "I can't read that."

"It's 912-" Rick starts hurriedly.

"I'm just kidding," Michonne said. "I can read it." Exasperated, Rick huffs again. "Bye~" Michonne sings before picking up her bag and running off.

Rick shakes his head as he watches her go, hoping that she's being truthful when she says she will call him.

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Michonne doesn't notice the police car following her to the bus stop. She arrives just as the bus arrives on the corner, and she steps on, paying the bus driver.

Langsley watches her through the windshield of his police cruiser. He watches the sway of her bottom in her short skirt as she bounces up the stairs of the bus.

The memory of her coming out of the water, her supple and tight body on display, plays in his mind. Unbeknownst to the two teenagers, he had stuck around just to see the body that Rick Grimes had had access to. He touches himself at the memory, not surprised to find that he's grown hard in his pants.

He keeps the picture of her face in his mind. So he can look her up later. And find out who she is. And where he can find her.

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Michonne's mood starts to get lower and lower as she gets closer to the neighborhood she's staying in. Men sell drugs on the corner. Prostitutes roam the streets. It's far from the well-off neighborhood she's sure Rick imagined her in when she said she went to St. George's. It's true that she had attended St. George's. But that was in the past. She dropped out because she had no way to continue paying to go there. Her father wouldn't support her anymore. He had kicked her out when he caught her in his home, losing her virginity to a boy he didn't approve of.

When she gets off the bus at her stop, she is greeted immediately with said boy. "Hey," she says.

"Hey." He leans down and kisses her on the lips. Unbidden, she thinks about Rick. "How'd it go?"

"It was easier than I thought," she says. "I'm sure I can get all the information we need in no time."

"Good girl." He pulls her close and kisses her again. Stepping back, he looks her in the eyes. "You didn't go farther than you needed to, did you?"

Michonne immediately knows what he's asking. The images of her and Rick getting frisky in the lake come to her mind. "No, Mike," she lies. "I'm not a whore." Guilt drops in her stomach like a stone as she wonders if that's exactly what she is. Maybe she's been living in this environment too long. Maybe she was becoming just like the women she passed on the street corner. Rick was just supposed to be a mark. A rich boy they would steal from. There was no reason why she needed to put her hand in his pants or let him in hers. She wonders why she acted like that.

"Good," Mike said, wrapping his arm around her shoulders and walking to where they stayed with some other friends. "Because you're mine."

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