AN: If you Look up Winfield House it looks a little like the Hilltop. I found that funny.
Chapter Two: Waterloo
Life is not a fairytale.
Michonne picked up the blue journal, flipping it open to a random page as she sat down. A cool breeze wafted in flipping the pages in her hand. The sky had begun to darken and she could smell the tell-tale signs of incoming rain. She lightly pressed her palm against one side as she tried to read the familiar handwriting.
I met someone last night.
The most difficult thing about love is its randomness. People find themselves on the path of love in the most sudden and unexpected ways with a person they never even saw coming.
She pressed a finger against the words as if they could bring her back to the moment they were written or when her life shifted paths.
Fifteen Years Earlier
The first time she met him, he saved her life.
On the night they met, she had been attending and residing at the girls only Marymount International School for about a month. Most of her weeks were spent at school and she would spend some weekends at home with her parents and brother Amare.
Her parents were attending a state dinner over the weekend and she knew her mother would be in no state to pay them any mind. She often became unnecessarily wound up.
"You're going home tonight, right?" Andrea asked as she entered their shared bedroom. Andrea Harrison was the daughter of an American businessman who had temporarily relocated to London with his family. She and Michonne met during Michonne's orientation and were absolutely thrilled that they were not only both placed in the same house, St. Jean, but they were roommates as well.
"Not tonight," she answered, looking up from her journal. "My parents are attending some kind of important dinner party, so there's no point in staying at Winfield."
"Oh fancy party?"
"Of course," Michonne sighed as she lay back against her bed. "My Mom wanted me to be there, but I passed."
"Thank goodness for that," Andrea sighed, plopping down on Michonne's bed. Andrea had a strenuous relationship with her father, who was now with his fourth wife and she rarely went home. "I thought I was going to be stuck next to Jessie Anderson at movie night again. Talk about irritating."
"Always here to save the day."
Andrea grinned mischievously at Michonne as she rested her chin in her hands. "Hey, you wanna get out of here tonight?"
Michonne shot her a disapproving look, knowing what was coming. "Andrea."
"We won't get in trouble," she promised. "I have my ways and I have permission. Plus, I'm house captain now. I have too much to lose if I get in trouble. We don't even have class tomorrow." She stood up, removing her uniform jacke and tossing it on her own bed. While Andrea was an excellent student, she was also a wild child. They were not supposed to leave the campus without permission, but somehow Andrea always knew how to go unnoticed as she came and went. Although, they had a very close call the last time they left campus. "You had a lot of fun the last time we hit the town. Stop scribbling in that book and get changed babe. It's the weekend and we're going out so put on something sexy."
Two hours later, Michonne found herself stepping of a train at Waterloo station, arm in arm with a scantily dressed Andrea. "Tonight's the night baby!" Andrea exclaimed as they walked through the station. "Are you drinking with me tonight?"
Michonne rolled her eyes, wondering why they were at Waterloo of all places. "Where exactly are we going this time?"
"You'll see," Andrea sang. "This isn't our final stop. We're meeting a friend first."
"Andrea."
"Don't be like that Michie," Andrea whined. "You've gotta try everything at least once."
"Hey Drea! Baby!"
The girls turned around to find a dark haired guy jogging towards them, arms outstretched. "My baby!" Andrea screeched as she bounded towards him, jumping into his arms, her lips crashing against his as they sloppily sucked at each other's face.
Michonne strolled towards them, her face filled with amusement as she waited for them to finish with their display. They received a few annoyed glances from passerby's. "Shit, how rude of me," Andrea giggled, breathing heavily as she broke away and turned to face her friend. "Michonne this is my boyfriend, Shane. Shane this is Michonne, my roommate."
"Nice to meet you Michonne, he said shaking her hand. "I've heard a lot about you."
"Same here," she lied. She had heard almost nothing about him and was left wondering how and when they even met.
"Shane is an Embassy kid like you." Shane hooked an arm around Andrea's waist as she ran a hand through the back of his hair. "Her Dad is the U.S. Ambassador or something."
"Nice to meet you," Shane said, reaching out to shake her hand. "Westbrook right?"
"That's right."
Andrea tugged on Shane's hair as her lips curled into a sultry smile. "So, where's the party baby? I didn't get all dressed up for nothing."
"It's a short train ride away," he said throwing an arm around her shoulder. "Not far. We'll meet up with some of my friends. It's a party and they have the good drugs."
Michonne's eye widened as she locked eyes with Andrea, who shot her a pleading look as Shane began leading them away. She shook her head as she followed her overzealous friend. The boarded another train headed in the direction of Shane's Friday night party.
Once they arrived, they maneuvered their way through the loud overcrowded venue, bypassing the various partying occupants until they met two of Shane's friends standing near a patio door.
"This is Andrea and that's her friend Michonne," Shane yelled over the loud music. Michonne and Andrea shook hands with the two young men who in turn introduced themselves as Phillip and Mike.
"Welcome," Phillip said, his arms outstretched. "Have some drinks and have some fun. We only have the best shit here."
Andrea grabbed two beers handing one to Michonne with a wink as she made a slight gesture toward Mike before taking Shane's hand leading him away.
Phillip disappeared into the crowd leaving just Mike and Michonne behind. "So Michonne, where're you from?" he asked as he took a sip of his own beer. She introduced herself to him properly and learned that he was a year older than her and was the son of a Nigerian oil tycoon. The party was the epitome of a gathering of wild wealthy young people. Although, Mike turned out to be a very funny and charming guy, when she could make out what he was yelling over the loud music.
"So you're at Marymount with Andrea?" he asked as he bopped to the music, while making playfully flirtatious faces at her.
She giggled at his silliness as she reached for another drink, moving her body to the music as the alcohol released her inhibitions. She always enjoyed dancing even though she wasn't a particularly good dancer. Mike moved closer to her, gently grabbing her hand as he started to bop more animatedly. "I love this song."
She enjoyed his endearing personality and he had a wonderful smile. "First time hearing it," she yelled back. She spotted Andrea across the room grinding against Shane, who was talking to what looked like one of his guy friends.
He began swaying his hips as he danced and in an exaggerated manner earning some more laughs from Michonne. "Hey," he said, leaning closer so she could hear him. "You wanna try some X?"
"What?" she yelled, not understanding him.
"X," he repeated. "Ecstasy. Shane's man just brought some more goodies. I've never tried it, but always a first time right?" He took her hand, leading her over to where Shane and Andrea were engaged in a sloppy kiss. Mike let go of her hand and moved towards a table filled with said "goodies".
"I feel great," Andrea said, inhaling deeply as Shane pulled away from her to chat with someone else. "You looked like you were having fun with Mike. You're gonna dance some more?" Andrea gyrated her hips.
"I actually need some air," she shouted over the loud music, as she inched away from her friend.
"Get some air girl," Andrea slurred, eyes glazed, as she took hold of Shane's hand as he passed. "I'll just be here, okay?"
Michonne stepped out into the cool London evening, happy to be out of the packed stuffy house. Rain had fallen while she was inside. She held on to the railing as she descended the front steps of the house, feeling a little dizzy after the four drinks she had. Her eyes landed on a small shop across the street and she suddenly craved something sweet. She hopped off the last step preparing to cross the road.
It was as if the whole world slowed down. A blaring honking sound filled the air and a bright light and before she could fully process what was happening, Michonne felt an arm around her waist yanking her backwards and away from the road.
"Are you out of your fuckin' mind?" an alarmed voice roared, as Michonne fell backward unto a solid form as her bottom hit the hard ground of the sidewalk.
"I…I…," she sucked in a shaky breath, looking up at the dark haired man who had just pulled her away from an oncoming vehicle. The car paused, and she looked up to see an older man peering down at them. "Are you okay?"
"All good," the voice behind her called, as she was pulled to her feet.
The world stopped when their eyes first met. It may have been the alcohol, but when she turned around to look her savior in the eye, that was it. She knew because she never felt anything like it. Her heart picked up speed and the world danced around her.
"Wow. I don't even know what just happened. I wasn't…" she placed a hand on her forehead. She could feel a headache coming on. "I'm drunk," she blurted.
The man stared at her, slightly amused as he held her in place. He was a young man, who couldn't have been that much older than she was. "It looked like you had a damn death wish. You scared me for a second there. I thought you were trying to hurt yourself."
She gripped his arm for support. "I'm just a little drunk. I don't even get drunk. The party just blows."
His blue eyes were filled with amusement, as he looked at the tipsy young woman that clung to his arm. "That's no reason to try to get yourself killed tipsy."
"I just wanted some candy." After she said it she realized how silly she must have sounded.
"You're not gonna find that in the middle of the road," he teased, as she let go of him
Michonne rolled her eyes at the apparent jokester. "I wasn't trying to – I should go back inside and find my friend," she said, backing away from him, her heart still hammering in her chest.
He reached out, grabbing her hand before she could turn around. Her skin tingled where his hand touched hers her stomach fluttered and she wasn't sure that it was because of the alcohol. His voice was much softer when he spoke this time. "Hey there tipsy. I didn't catch your name."
"It's Michonne."
"That's a real pretty name," he said, pulling a cigarette from behind his ear. Michonne wrinkled her nose. His eyes raked over her face, focusing on her lips. "You don't sound like you're from 'round here."
"I am for now." Michonne said observing him carefully. He was cute and he looked familiar. "You didn't tell me yours. Hey wait a minute I've seen you before. Were you at the party? Are you a friend of Shane's? Phillips's?"
"What party?" He took a step away from her, shoving his hands in his pockets. He looked genuinely confused with his lips wrapped around the unlit cigarette.
"The one you just left. I could have sworn I saw you." He stared blankly at her for what seemed like forever. She was beginning to worry about his mental state. Maybe he was inebriated too.
"You're funny Tipsy," he chuckled, still calling her by her new nickname. He reached for her hand. "Come on."
"I don't even know you," she said, taking a step away from him. She may have been drunk, and he may have had an effect on her, but she wasn't reckless. "I shouldn't follow strangers while drunk."
"Well, you shouldn't look for candy in the street while drunk either. I'm Rick," he said holding out a hand for her to shake. She observed him cautiously.
"Nice to meet you Rick," she said as she took his hand.
"Now I'm not a stranger anymore," he said, with a wink. "Why are you out here by yourself? You didn't like the party."
"Did you?"
He shrugged, moving toward the steps. "Sit with me instead, then. I can't leave you out here drunk and unattended. You might go searching for more candy. Let's just sit for a while and get that fresh air."
"You're a southern American guy," she slurred embarrassingly as she sat down next to him on the cold steps. "You have that twang. It's a sexy twang Mr. Thang."
"Good to know," he laughed. "Why you out here by yourself?"
"I needed fresh air and my roommate is occupied with some ecstasy and some "good stuff" at the moment, so I had to come and get it myself." She pouted. "I also really wanted some candy."
"I think you really are out of your mind Tipsy. You're lucky you're pretty."
She tossed her head back smiling up at the night sky. "It's the alcohol."
"Sure," he snorted.
"You live around here Mr. Thang? What brings you to this party?"
"Don't get too bold Tipsy," he said, grabbing her hand as he began playing with her fingers. He stared intently at her with his piercing eyes. Her skin started tingling again. She tried unsuccessfully to inconspicuously lean into to him. He smelled nice.
"Hey Rick?" She glanced at him from the corner of her eye.
"Yeah?"
"Thanks for not letting me get run over."
Their next meeting would be by pure chance.
Present Day
The sound of a car broke Michonne out of her daydream. She glanced out of the window to see a black town car driving away from the house. She must have missed its arrival. She shut the book, with a heavy sigh as she glanced at the large antique clock on the wall across from her. She rose from her seat to check on her daughter and retrieve the baby monitor before quietly leaving the large bedroom.
She was deep in thought as she crossed the landing and she nearly bumped into her stepfather and the in-house nurse as they conversed in quiet voices.
"Michonne," James said, as a tired smile formed on his face.
James and Winnie Westbrook had relocated to London some years prior and bought the large house they now occupied. It was everything Winnie ever wanted in a home and she was satisfied to remain stationary in her dream home. She belonged there. She thought of it as an early retirement, although James was practicing international law.
"Is she up?"
James rubbed his tired face and the nurse quietly excused herself. "Yeah. She just got back from the hospital and she's had her lunch and they just gave her something for the pain. Hopefully this helps. She had a really hard time last night." He ran a hand through his hair. "Today is a good day though. Not the best, but good. She likes to sit outside on the better days. On others' she just wants to be alone."
Michonne nodded, absently playing with the binding of the journal. James eyes followed her nervous movement, but he made no comment. "She asked for you."
"Why didn't you tell me it was this bad?"
"I…I guess I was hoping it isn't," he admitted. "She has changed so much, but it's still Winnie. She still has the same powerful voice and dazzling smile. It's easy to convince yourself that…"
Michonne pushed lightly on the door and it creaked open, revealing the bright, immaculate white bedroom, she found her mother in the night before when she arrived with her family. It had been years since they laid eyes on each other.
"Chou-chou?" Winnie said as she tried to prop up her now frail body. James was right about her voice. Winnie Westbrook's eloquent and distinct voice simply didn't match her frail state. A soft smile formed on her still stunningly beautiful face. She was tightly bundled in warm clothing and a silk head scarf covered what little remained of her thick dark hair. "Come. Come sit. How are you my love?"
For some reason, Michonne kept the journal hidden against her skirt as she fully entered the room. She fought back tears as she moved toward her mother, placing a kiss on the woman's forehead as she carefully climbed into the large bed. It reminded her of when she was a child, but instead her strong alluring mother, was replaced by a tiny and almost childlike figure. "Hi Mom."
"Don't look at me like that chou-chou," Winnie said weakly as she met her daughter's eyes. "Don't worry yourself and don't feel sorry for me. I'm going to make it. I'll get better and I'll be beautiful again." Her eyes flitted to the ceiling. The doctor's said different. "I must have scared you last night with how sick I was. I didn't even get to see you properly."
"I missed you," she said honestly. "I wish things happened differently."
"Well we can't change the past now can we?" Winnie said with a sad smile. "I'm just glad you're here now. My baby came home." She reached over, twirling one of Michonne's dreads with a bony finger. "You're still wearing your hair like this," she chuckled. "You were always my little free-spirited bohemian child. I don't know how I didn't see it sooner. I supposed it was partially buried beneath everything else that was going on with you. You probably got it from me."
Michonne decided to change the subject from her hair and lifestyle. "How did chemotherapy go? James told me it's been making you really sick."
"Part of the process I guess," she sighed. She reached to grab the neckline of her shirt, pulling it down slightly. "They put in a chest port."
"Does it hurt?"
Winnie sighed and shrugged her shoulders. "It does, but I've endured worse." The implications in her voice didn't escape Michonne's notice. She felt a pang of misplaced guilt.
Michonne took her mother's small brittle hand in hers, her throat tightening. It pained her to see the strongest woman she ever met, curled up into a small frail ball. "The kids are excited to see you. They really want to meet their grandma." The urge to let her tears spill was becoming more difficult to resist.
"Are they, now?" the woman mused. "Little Andre. From your stories, he reminds me of Amare. And I can't wait to meet the youngest one. What was her name again?"
A knot formed in Michonne's throat at the mention of Amare's name. She averted her gaze to the arrangement of peonies on her mother's bedside."Judith."
"Yes Judith and the eldest one. I've only laid eyes on him in passing." "I'm a grandmother," she laughed. "I just hate that this is how they'll see me for the first time. I'd hate to be remembered like this. It'll probably scare them," Winnie said with a self-conscious laugh.
"You look beautiful Mom. You always will."
"Not like before," she said. "James looks at me with pity. I don't want pity. I'm going to get well. I'll be better." She grew quiet, her eyes contemplative. "Is your husband here?"
"Yes and he's excited to see you too," she said carefully as she examined the woman's expression. Winnie simply hummed, opting to not comment. "It's been even longer since you've seen him."
"Nine years." Winnie met her daughter's eyes. "I can't believe you're really here chou-chou. Where are you now?"
"We've been in Atlanta since after Judith was born. He hasn't taken an international job in some years. We're supposed to move again, but we might postpone that for a while. He worries too much."
"Why? Are you pregnant again?" Winnie rasped as her disapproving gaze landed on Michonne's flat stomach.
Michonne didn't respond. "I've been thinking."
She piqued her mother's interest. "About?"
Michonne thought carefully about what she was about to say. "Winfield house and…my disappearance."
Winnie sighed averting her daughter's gaze. "I don't hold what happened against you. It was a difficult situation."
"I'm sorry. I didn't bring this up to upset you," Michonne said. "It's just that…I've avoided thinking about it for so long. Being back in London, brings back so much memories. Even this house reminds me of Winfield. I'm just a little surprised."
Winnie weakly patted her daughter's hand but otherwise grew quiet. She gazed at her only daughter with somber eyes. "It was my fault. All of it."
So we got to see how they first met! Also some little nuggets on Michonne's disappearance.
Review and let me know what you think!
