A/N: *waves* Hiii! I've missed you all so much! For some reason, it feels like forever since I've posted anything, even though it's only been a couple of weeks. But anywho, I received this request from an awesome anon on Tumblr, and while it was supposed to be a 1-2 shot kinda thing, I got a little carried away, so I'm at four chapters now. Hopefully it stays that way, lol. It's my first multi-chapter AU (granted, it's still pretty short), but I just thought it was a super cute idea, and I really hope you guys like it! Gonna try to have the next chapter out soon-ish! -Ash
Chapter 1 - Why Georgia?
She could feel it in her veins the second she stepped off of the plane. As she walked out of the airport and into the gentle October sun, the perfect weather being one of a few things she missed about the city. And all of her reasons for leaving in the first place seemed to be disappearing by the minute, replaced by the one that she would've - maybe even should've - stayed for. Rick.
Just being in the same zip code as him made her antsy. She was anxious, and she wasn't sure why. It wasn't like she didn't think about him otherwise, because she did. Often. But being back there, back home, it already felt different. Driving into the city, taking in the skyline, she could picture his handsome face so vividly, reminded of the million times they'd seen that exact view together. She could hear that ridiculous twang tickling the air, because he was the embodiment of Atlanta to her. Perhaps because he was the first person she met when she moved to the 'big city,' and ten years later, he was the last person she'd been with, in every sense of the phrase, before leaving it. His aura haunted her like a ghost. She hadn't even laid eyes on him yet, but by god, she could feel him. Everything about this place reminded her of him. Which was why she hadn't set foot in the city since leaving three months ago.
It was why actually seeing him again had practically taken her breath away, coming to a full halt when she spotted him. He had every right to be there, and it even made sense that he was, but still, it felt like an intrusion. Especially when she had it all planned out in her head how she would see him again. She would show up for the rehearsal dinner in her tightest jeans, her hair and makeup perfect, bearing gifts from Europe, and she would greet everyone at once, avoiding some awkward hello with him. But no, the universe obviously had other ideas, because it was when she walked into the luxe lobby of The Georgian Terrace, looking every bit like someone who'd just stepped off an 8-hour transatlantic flight, that she saw him standing there. Waiting in line to check in just ahead of her. And while she only had a view from the back, she knew it was him - she could recognize those bowlegs anywhere. And those dark curls peeking out of the back of his cap simply underlined the point.
"Fuck," Michonne mumbled to herself as she approached him. She began to dig in her giant purse for her phone, desperate to see what she looked like before she spoke. Her locs were pulled into a sloppy ponytail at the top of her head, but the colorful scarf she was using as a headband made her look more casual and less like she'd just come from the gym, at least. Her sunglasses covered her tired eyes, and her purse did a lot to hide her wrinkled sweater. Of course this was Rick, whose wardrobe mostly consisted of jeans and t-shirts, so it shouldn't have mattered as much as it did to her. But as someone who preferred for things to go according to a plan, this had really thrown her for a loop. She let out a quick, deep breath and moved in closer to him, lightly tugging at his attention. "Rick?" she called out as if she'd just noticed him.
Rick blinked upon hearing her voice, his breath catching in his throat as he wondered if he was somehow imagining things. Of course he knew she was going to be at the wedding, and he'd been anticipating seeing her again for over a month now, wondering what that first moment would be like. He'd played out the moment in his head over and over again, what he would say to her, how he would play it cool – at least cooler than he was the last time they were together, which was admittedly a pretty low bar. But even so, he'd imagined getting his first glimpse of her at the rehearsal dinner, where he could take it all in, give himself a moment to get reacquainted with being in the same room with her. Especially after he'd spent the last few months training himself not to be. And after a few minutes, he would strike up a casual conversation about anything other than her new life without him, and that was how he planned to get through the weekend. But now, he'd heard what was unmistakably her voice behind him, and he felt frozen. Scared to turn and actually see her for the first time since the last time.
With a hard swallow, Rick did turn to face her, inhaling visibly once he laid eyes on her. As his brain instantly flooded with memories of their seven years together – how many times he'd seen her looking exactly like this as she left their home to run errands. Reminded of how this time, she never came back. Thinking about how she looked just as beautiful now as she did the day they'd met nearly a decade ago. Their friendship turned romance turned nothing. What a trip. All of these thoughts rendered him speechless until he realized that she was waving at him awkwardly.
"Hey, Michonne," he managed to croak out, shaking his head from his daze. He moved in to offer her a friendly hug, and he quickly recognized that she was equally as uneasy, feeling the physical tension in her back in their short embrace. What a relief to know he wasn't alone. "How are you?" he asked once they separated, taking in that delightful, familiar scent of her hair. He even smiled, fondly recalling the giant tub of coconut oil that used to live on her side of the bathroom counter.
"I'm doing well," she nodded, finding that she was already getting lost in his eyes. She was so glad her shades were too dark to give her away, because she was essentially gaping. His denim shirt didn't have to work very hard to make his stare any more stunning, but it did. That muted blue had always been a good color on him, but it seemed especially so now, when she hadn't seen him in months. He was wearing one of his favorite fitted caps that were all just a little bit dirty, looking every bit the Southern frat boy she'd befriended years ago; though the flecks of grey in his short beard reminded her that he'd matured past that, at least a little. "You look great."
"Oh, thank you. So do you," he nodded, trying his best not to fixate on her thighs in those leggings. "How's… New York?"
She shrugged, wanting to downplay it all, and she was thankful that the short line moved so that he was next up. "Good, I guess?" she answered a bit nervously. "I actually just got off of a plane from London, so… I suppose things are going well."
"Oh yeah, Glenn did mention somethin' about you bein' in Paris," he nodded back, noticing the giant suitcase beside her. At least she left him for a good reason, it seemed. If career fulfillment counted as a good reason, anyway. "World traveler, huh?"
"Well, I always wanted to be…"
"Yeah, you did," he smiled back at her warmly, happy that she seemed happy with her decision. "I guess that's why you aren't catering the wedding then."
"Oh, well I offered, but Maggie just wanted me to be… here with you guys. Just be a bridesmaid."
"Makes sense."
"How about you, though?" Michonne went on, still eager to change subjects. "New school year? You like your kids?"
He chuckled as he thought of how at the beginning of every school year, with great ceremony, he would tell Michonne about all his favorite and least favorite new students. And even more than that, he loved when baseball season rolled around, where he transformed from history teacher by day to Coach Grimes at 3pm. And she would come to every game to support him, and without fail, the entire team would fall in love her, even more than they had with him. But two months in and everything about this year was already so different. He hated it. "So far, so good," he replied with another nod, a strained smile to match. He glanced back at the front desk, relieved to see that the guest ahead of him appeared to be finishing up. "So I guess… um, we'll have all weekend to catch up?"
"Oh yeah, of course. You'll be at the rehearsal dinner, right?"
"Seven o'clock," he confirmed, glancing at his watch. He had four hours to pull himself together and stop acting so fucking weird with her. "Should be fun…"
"Yeah, I can't wait to see everyone again..." Michonne found herself smiling back at him, happy to see that he was doing well, or at least looking it, in the time since their breakup. Her gaze dropped from his eyes to his lips to his chest, then back up again, feeling trapped in her memories as she stared. It was like he'd cast a spell and she was powerless to resist.
"Oh, you go on ahead," Rick graciously offered as the next check-in spot became available.
Knocked out of her daze, she looked back at him surprised, but smiled appreciatively. He was always such a gentleman. "Thank you," she replied, gathering her bag before gently brushing his arm as she passed him. "I'll see you later."
"Yeah…" A deep, sobering breath escaped his lips as she walked away, as he could've sworn there were actual sparks between them when she touched him, the electricity between them tangible. "Fuck," he mumbled to himself as he watched her from behind. As if he hadn't been dreading this weekend enough, questioning how he was going to get through it without looking or feeling crazy. Now that they'd been back in each other's orbit for just a few short minutes, he'd damn near forgotten how to breathe. This was going to be a long weekend.
A few hours later, the wedding had been rehearsed, a massive dinner served, and toasts made as the eclectic group of family and friends that made up Maggie and Glenn's wedding party gathered at the Greene farm to kick off the weekend. The barn, in particular, had been gorgeously decorated as the backdrop to the momentous occasion, the hanging lights and deep purple and orange flowers giving it all a rustic autumn feel. And a perfect complement to their impending wedding.
"It was so good to see you all together again," Maggie's little sister Beth declared, gazing at the group of people she'd be sharing the stage with the next day. "Seemed like y'all were always around when I was younger, now I can't remember the last time I saw some of you."
Michonne looked down guiltily, beginning to play with the lid of the earring box Maggie had given her earlier in the festivities. She was reminded that even before she left Atlanta, she was already gone in a lot of ways.
"Yeah, it's been a minute since we all been together," Daryl agreed, looking around the small group. "Some people decided to get lives and shit." He made a face at Sasha and then Michonne, given how they'd strayed the farthest, and the group liked to mock them about it. All in good fun, though.
"Well Vegas was only, what? A year and a half ago?" Glenn reminded them, already chuckling as he thought about the last trip they'd all gone on together. The rest of the group laughed, but it was peppered with a few groans, notably from Sasha and Rosita. "Oh, don't front. Vegas was fun, man."
"It was," Sasha reluctantly admitted, "but we agreed we would never bring it up again."
"I actually don't remember agreeing to that," Tara protested, raising her hand. "I mean, I won $8000 bucks, so I pretty much tell everyone I meet about Vegas."
"Yeah, Sash, I think it was more like you wanted us to not bring it up, and we promised you we would basically do the opposite," Glenn submitted with a wide, happy smile on his face.
Maggie giggled as she recalled exactly why Sasha wanted what happened in Vegas to stay in Vegas. "Oh yeah, that was where you had the thing with Big Red, wasn't it?"
"Y'all have got to stop calling him that," Sasha retorted, her eyebrows raised seriously.
"I can't even remember his real name now," Aaron cut in, adding to the pile-on.
Michonne was finishing up the last of her wine as the name came to mind and she blurted it out. "Abraham!"
"Yes!"
Rick laughed as he glanced over at Michonne, wondering if she remembered as well as he did being able to hear Sasha with her 'friend' in the next room. "Yeah, that definitely should've stayed in Vegas," he commented wryly.
Sasha rolled her eyes, playfully hitting Rick's foot with her own. "Oh, you been quiet all night, and now you wanna speak."
"I'm sorry, but he was terrible."
"Like, the worst," Michonne agreed, finding herself absentmindedly grinning at him. "And he smelled like… cigars. And sweat."
Sasha covered her face in shame as the rest of the table, including Maggie's father and sister, laughed heartily at the details. "Y'all are the ones that are terrible," she sighed.
"Oh wait, remember Rick and Michonne were fighting like the entire first half of the trip," Rosita recounted for everyone, chuckling tipsily at the two of them. "Like, wouldn't even sit next to each other at dinner."
"I remember they were fightin' about somethin stupid," Daryl smirked at his friends. "Rearranging seats and shit."
"Yeah, what was that even about?" Sasha tried to recall, glad that the spotlight was off of her.
"Toothpaste," Michonne answered quietly, shy to confess how ridiculous they'd been. But indeed, their spat had been the very definition of ridiculous. She caught Rick's eye, and he was smiling back at her, probably because he was thinking the same. "It was not my finest moment."
"To be fair," Maggie interjected to defend her best friend, "Rick should know that Michonne doesn't play about her spearmint and baking soda."
"No, she certainly does not," he was quick to acknowledge. Lesson learned. He was surprised when she lightly hit his arm and they were suddenly laughing in unison. The tension they'd been wading through throughout the evening seemed to finally be evaporating.
"That was a good trip, though," Aaron nodded as the laughter died down, taking his husband's hand as he did. "We've gotta do that again sometime."
"Next year," Glenn insisted. "We can all go hang out with Michonne in Paris."
"Or was it Madrid," Tara teased her, a giant grin on her face as she gazed at their globetrotting friend.
"That may be the only way we see her again," Rick added. He meant it as a joke, but made sure to smile at Michonne again, hoping she would take it as one.
"That's very funny," she nodded in response to all the jabs. "I promise, from now on, I go wherever you guys go."
"Well," Hershel chimed in when he saw an opening, quietly clearing his throat as he sat forward. "Perhaps you kids oughta use this opportunity to go on back to your hotel."
As the table laughed, mostly in response to still being called kids, Maggie took her father's hand, recognizing that it was likely way past time for them to go. They did have a wedding to prepare for, after all. "Daddy, are you kickin' us out?"
"I mean, you don't gotta go home," he chuckled, checking his pocket watch to see that it was just about midnight, "but it's past my bedtime, so y'all do have to get the hell outta here."
Amused by his frankness, because she knew he thought of her friends as more of his own kids, Maggie stood with her father to give him a giant hug. "Thank you, Daddy," she grinned at him before addressing the rest of the table "Thank you all for comin' out tonight. I feel like I've been waitin' for this weekend my whole life, and y'all've started it off perfectly," she nodded, gazing at each of them. "I can't wait to see y'all bright and early in the mornin'."
The reaction was another mixture of groans and light applause as the group began to disperse, most of them saying quick goodbyes as they knew they'd be back together within a matter of hours. Rick was one of the first few out of his seat, ready to all but disappear from the farm. Even though dinner and the rehearsal before it had been a pretty lighthearted affair, it certainly wasn't easy being paired with Michonne. All the strained small talk, having to pretend he was interested in her new life without him, it was draining.
"Hey, Rick," a voice called after him before he could grab his jacket and make a run for it.
He turned to see Daryl approaching, though he noticed Michonne wasn't far behind, likely just as ready to go as he was. He nodded, acknowledging his friend. "What's up."
"You still gonna swing by, or you headin' in for the night?"
"Oh. Umm…" Rick scratched at his beard, recalling the few details Daryl had given him about a couple of their friends playing a set at a local bar. Trying to decide if he wanted to drink his thoughts away, or just get a good night's sleep. "What time are they playin'?"
Before Daryl could answer, Michonne had approached, grabbing her own jacket from the coat rack beside them. "What are you two up to?" She'd directed it more to Daryl than Rick, but hoped he wouldn't mind the intrusion, considering they'd ended dinner on a light note.
"We were gonna hit up Northside for a bit," he revealed casually as he looked over to Rick. "Does she know Jesus?"
Rick was tempted to make a joke at her expense, because that was how their relationship went for all the years he'd known her. But he decided against it and simply nodded, not wanting to make things any more awkward by calling her a heathen. "Yeah, they've met."
"Well he's doin' a set over there. Should come by."
Rick found himself eyeing Daryl, maybe even glaring at him as he waited for Michonne to speak. And he really wasn't sure whether or not he wanted her to come.
"Sure, I'll go," she shrugged. She looked to Rick, detecting some uneasiness from him, and she wondered if maybe he did mind her encroaching on their plans after all. "Unless you don't want me to…"
"No, I… you should," he stuttered, struggling to look her in the eye at the moment. "It's just drinks and music. It'll be fun."
She eyed him for a moment, questioning his true thoughts on the matter, but figured it didn't matter much one way or the other. A couple of days from now, this would be over, and they could go back to the way they were. Or weren't. "So Northside Tavern?"
"Yup," Daryl confirmed, draping an arm over each of their shoulders. "Just follow me."
"Well don't insult the lady," Rick cut in to defend her, albeit kiddingly. But no girlfriend of his, ex or otherwise, would be so clueless. "She knows how to get to Northside Tavern."
"Hell, I dunno, with her new fancy life, I figured she might've forgotten."
She giggled as she glanced at both of her friends. If she could call Rick that now. "I know how to get to fucking Northside Tavern."
"So you didn't forget about us?" Daryl continued to taunt her.
"Get off of me," she joked, elbowing him as she laughed. Although in truth, she was thankful for his presence, as it seemed that she and Rick needed some kind of buffer - at least until they'd gotten a few more drinks in them. "Should we invite any of the others?"
"Yeah, Tara's gonna roll with me," he confirmed, releasing Rick from his grasp so he could check his phone. "You said you were gonna tell Jessie to come by, right?" he asked him.
Michonne looked between them again, inwardly questioning whether that was someone she should know but had forgotten. But the look on Rick's face said he wasn't too keen on her name being brought up. "Who's Jessie?"
"She works with Rick and Glenn," Daryl replied, distracted by his texting. "She's cool as hell, though."
"Someone you're interested in?" she grinned, already excited by the prospect of Daryl Dixon seeing someone for more than a night. "Do I get to put my matchmaking skills to work?"
"Nah, that's all Rick," he answered without thinking, shoving his phone back into his pocket. As he realized that might've been too much information, he looked to Rick regretfully, "I mean…"
"Oh." Michonne turned to Rick too, surprised, but at least she now understood his strange expression. "Well…"
"She's just my date to the wedding," he shook his head, feeling his face growing warmer the longer they stood there, all three of them staring at one another self-consciously. "I don't even know if it's that. She just wanted to come."
Michonne continued to smile, mostly to hide the effect of the figurative blow, but somewhere inside of that, she was actually glad to hear that Rick was moving on with his life. What a relief to know she didn't completely ruin him when she walked away. "I mean, that's fine," she nodded, her eyes flitting downward, fixating on his boots. It seemed that she was the one who couldn't look him in the eye now, and maybe it wasn't as fine as she was trying to believe. She and Rick had been sitting side-by-side for hours now, and he didn't even offer a hint that he might be dating someone else. And she didn't ask, because maybe somewhere, in the back of her mind, she would always think of him as hers. This weekend wasn't starting at all the way she was expecting. "Shall we go?"