A/N: Just a small, fluffy story. :)
The RV sputtered dead in the middle of somewhere that definitely wasn't Oceanside—or anywhere near an ocean for that matter. On either side of the idle RV were rolling hills, few trees, and no signs of civilization.
"Well," Rick said after a long while in the silence of the RV cabin. He tossed the map over his shoulder. "At least we can say we've never been here before."
Michonne favored him with a tight-lipped attempt at a smile. Clearly, she wasn't amused.
"We need to find gas," she said, popping open the passenger-side door.
Rick placed a hand on her thigh, stopping her before she could get out. "Hey, it's getting dark. We don't have to go anywhere right now. Worse comes to worst we can camp out here for a few days."
"A few days?" Michonne blinked at him.
Rick shrugged. "It's not so bad. We have good food—" He wiggled his eyebrows, "—and better company."
Michonne rolled her eyes. "Okay. One night, and—" She held up a finger. "We're drinking the wine."
Michonne shook the empty wine bottle over her equally empty wine glass. One, two, three times. She frowned, peering into the bottle with a closed eye. "Was there that little?"
"There was a lot, actually," Rick said, chuckling. "Don't worry—I spared you the worst of it." He held up his own empty glass.
Michonne gave Rick a sour look. Rick placed a hand on his chest. "Hey," he said. "You'll thank me later when I'm the one hatching an egg out of my head—I mean... My head will feel like an egg—"
Michonne staggered to her feet, interrupting Rick's drunken chain of thought.
"Where are you going?" Rick asked, laughing as Michonne almost tripped over the boots she'd left in the aisle of the RV.
"It's hot," she said. "I'm going on the roof."
Rick was swift on her heels, following her out the door. The air went from the smell of musty cabin funk to fresh pine needles and earth. It took them both a minute to climb up the short ladder hanging on the back of the RV. When Michonne reached the top, she sprawled onto the cool rubber roof with a sigh of relief.
"Good idea," Rick said, following her with a graceless fall of his own. "Feels nice."
The two slipped into silence, enjoying the embrace of cool night air. Rick's eyes shifted focus to the expanse of stars overhead. He tilted his head, squinting at them. It was the first time, in a long time, that he'd actually looked at the stars—and how many there were now.
"Wow," he said under his breath. It used to be he could count the number of stars in a given night sky.
This? This was dizzyingly infinite.
"Were you ever an Eagle Scout?" Michonne said, pulling Rick back to planet Earth.
It was such a normal question, one rooted in the old world, that it almost made Rick laugh.
"No," he said, rolling onto his side to look at her. "What gave you that idea?"
"You just seem the type with your whole…" She struggled for words, twirling her hand in the air, "...manly, southern demeanor. Isn't that a thing? I could see you in uniform, roughing it outdoors, selling cookies…"
"That's girl scouts," Rick corrected, but he suspected Michonne already knew that given the playful smirk on her face. "Carl was, though."
"A girl scout?"
"Boy scout. Didn't make it up to Eagle. His interests shifted indoors. You know, video games, comics. Stuff like that."
"So where did you pick up all those nifty 'how to' survival tricks?"
"That was my grandfather's doing. He was very insistent on teaching us kids how to live out in the real world." Rick's memories shifted to wading through tall grass after his grandfather's wellies, keeping his eyes open for snake. "He'd take me out, to places like this. Showed me how to make snares—"
"You and your snares."
"Oh, there was more. How to start a fire, how to fish, tie knots—"
"How to kill a boar with a rock?"
"Oh yeah," Rick said with conviction. "That was my first lesson."
"Did you learn about the stars?"
Michonne rolled onto her back to look at the sky. The pale starlight gleaned over her smooth skin, contouring all the soft features of her face—and Rick found himself unable to breathe for a moment.
"My grandfather always got us home before the sun went down," Rick said with a deep inhale. "My grandfather was... proud. Too proud to admit he was afraid of the dark."
Rick turned onto his back, putting his arms behind his head. "But—I do know the Big Dipper, so, we're not lost—" He glanced over at Michonne, "in case you were wondering."
He expected one of her playful quips in reply, but she appeared dazed—lips parted as her eyes danced over the sky overhead.
"I wonder how many people do know," she said, her voice soft. Almost lost.
Rick opened his mouth to say something, but closed it. All at once it washed over him how many people were gone. How many people who once knew things like the names of stars. People who printed maps like the one crumpled in the back of the RV.
"Does it matter?" Rick finally said with a shake of his head. "Besides, who has the time to look up at the sky anymore?"
"Well," Michonne paused for a moment. "There's us."
Rick flashed her a cocky grin. "We're not everyone."
He expected that would be the end of the conversation, but Michonne furrowed her brow with her typical resolute intent. "They should have names."
"Okay then." Rick slid over so they were flush side-by-side.
"What are you—" Michonne started, but Rick cut her off, taking her hand into his.
"Let's name them," he whispered, linking his fingers with hers. He raised their arms, pointing his finger to trace a shape between the stars. "This here? This will be the constellation Michonne—"
"Oh no." Michonne slapped at his chest with her free hand.
"—the beautiful woman who led mankind into a new and better future."
"New and better future?" Michonne sounded incredulous.
"And that over there?" Rick pointed to another group of stars nearby. "That'll be Rick—"
"—the corniest man who ever lived—"
"—who managed to somehow woo the most perfect woman who ever lived," Rick finished for her, raising his eyebrows. "So he had to be doing something right."
"Maybe," Michonne said, smiling. Her eyes flicked back up to the sky. "There any others I should know about?"
Rick wiggled even closer, bringing their hands up again. "That one? Right there? That's Carl. See how he connects Rick and Michonne?" He drew a shape between a couple stars.
"What about that one?" Michonne took control, extending her finger and outlining a shape of her own.
"Ah, that's Daryl—in the warm company of his fleas."
Michonne burst out laughing. When she stopped, the lingering grin on her lips betrayed the stern look in her eyes. "I'm going to tell him you said that."
"You know, I'm not going to remember any of these," Rick said, shaking his head as his eyes roved back over all the stars.
"I will," Michonne said with confidence. "I'm good at remembering patterns. Used to make my own clothes."
"So that's why you're so good with a needle. By the way—" Rick rocked his leg back and forth. "Thanks for stitching up my pants."
Michonne raised their linked hands, pointing her finger back at the sky to trace a shape. "This one will be Rick's beloved jeans—that walked with him through fire."
Rick snorted, rolling his eyes. "Please don't teach that one to our kids."
The second the words were out of Rick's mouth, his jaw clacked shut. He swallowed, unsure of whether he should correct himself. He hadn't meant to shoulder Michonne with the responsibility of being Carl and Judith's mother. She'd never asked—but the words were out there now, floating uncomfortably between them, waiting to be dissected or ignored.
"That—" Michonne said, breaking the silence, "—will be the first constellation I teach our kids."
When she looked back at Rick with a smile and warmth in her eyes, the passion surging in his heart grew unbearable. He took her face into his hands and pressed his lips against hers.
He didn't stop kissing her until dawn began to chase the stars from the sky.
Rick and Michonne spent the following morning nursing foggy heads while topping off the RV with what gasoline they had siphoned from a gas station that was a few miles down the road.
Rick climbed into the passenger seat, handing the map to Michonne. "Since I got us lost, it's only fair you get us back on track."
So Michonne did—until the RV sputtered to a dead stop two hours later on a strip of highway somewhere between Oceanside and Alexandria.
"Guess I don't know how to read one of these either," Michonne said with a not-so-innocent shrug. She tossed the crumpled map into the back of the RV. "At least we know how to find our way back home. All we got to do is follow the stars."