A/N: This is it folks! Michonne makes it to California at last.
Thank you so much for making this story such a wild and fun ride. Look for an epilogue later this week, but for now, I hope you enjoy!
"To us!" Sasha raised her plastic cup high in the air. Behind her, the summer sun was beginning to set, casting long shadows on the young adults seated along the deck of the lake.
"To us," Zeke agreed enthusiastically. They mashed their red cups against one another's before taking a deep pull each. Michonne snuck in a conservative sip for the sake of comradery. Beside her, Mike shot her a knowing look before taking a gulp of his own. Michonne smiled at him, swearing him to secrecy with just a look.
"I can't believe this is it," Sasha set her cup down, dipping her feet into the cool waters below. "The last summer of our childhoods."
Mike laughed. "Ok, drama queen."
"I'm serious," Sasha swept her hand around. "When's the next time we will all be here, doing this?"
Michonne grinned. "Probably next summer."
Sasha snorted. "I'm going to be at West Point," she pointed out, "Not a lot of time for partying."
"I'll be at Georgia Tech," Zeke smiled. "Plenty of time for partying."
Sasha stuck her tongue out at him. Zeke pulled her in for a kiss. Groaning, Mike turned away from the canoodling couple and to his ex.
"How's your man?" he asked her quietly. Sasha and Zeke continued their alcohol-fueled, impromptu makeout session in the background.
"He's good," Michonne smiled, setting her cup down. "Tired, but happy. I'm excited to see him." She'd been counting down the days on her wall calendar. Now they were only hours away from a reunion and her stomach was in knots. "How's your man?" she chanced a glance at their friends before asking.
"Bummed that I'm leaving," Mike sighed. "We're hanging out tonight," he glanced anxiously at his watch.
"Do you need to go?" Michonne felt a stab of sympathy. If she'd only had one more night with Rick for the foreseeable future, she wouldn't waste it here.
Mike's eyes shifted over her head to Zeke and Sasha. "It's probably a good time to bounce," he observed, scrunching his face up.
"I'll drive you," Michonne stood up.
"Look at you, all grown," Mike grinned gratefully, joining her.
"I had to do something with my time," Michonne laughed.
In fact, her time apart from her boyfriend had been the busiest of the summer. Staying busy meant that she could stay out of her feelings. She'd taken extra shifts, read three books that hadn't initially been on her list, and gotten her license in half the time she'd figured it would take.
She still missed Rick though.
The feeling was mutual. Long distance phone calls weren't cheap. They'd only managed to get one in, just a few days after he left.
"I'll write you," Rick had promised her, whispering into the receiver. His teammates were the background, laughing loudly. "Love you, baby." An explosion of laughter had followed this statement, ringing in Michonne's ears after Rick hung up. Pen and paper afforded them more privacy.
And so, four letters had come for her in the mail, each a week apart. She'd packed them with the rest of her belongings, stacking them neatly in two suitcases leaning by her parent's front door. Each one had been a balm for her feelings, eased the space between them a bit. Even so, she still went to bed every night, thinking about him.
"Have you heard from your man?" Mike questioned.
"He writes," Michonne nodded.
Mike considered this. "Is it enough?"
Michonne wasn't sure how to answer this. Of course, she preferred his company, but those letters had tied her over through his short absence. "It did. You should get an email, if you're thinking about writing Terry. It's a lot quicker."
"I don't have a computer," Mike pointed out morosely.
"I'm sure somewhere at San Diego University, someone has a computer," Michonne reminded him with a nudge. Mike grinned.
"Maybe," he said. They continued down the pier to Michonne's borrowed Toyota, the sounds of their friends' laughter chasing them off.
Michonne suspected that Sasha and Zeke were relieved for the opportunity to be alone. She knew she'd talk to her friend one way or the other. They'd set up email accounts through their respective schools. Michonne looked forward to it, but there were other things on her mind.
"We said 'I love you'," she told Mike in the car. The sun set in her rearview mirror, throwing an orange glow across the world.
"Snap," Mike looked impressed. "He said it first?"
"On Fourth of July," she confirmed, blushing at just the thought. In a letter she'd received last week, Rick had been clear that he remembered the events of that night in stunning detail and was eager to repeat it.
"Smart guy," Mike complimented, nodding. "He knows a good thing when he has it." He looked nervously at his watch again, tapping his foot impatiently on the floor of her car. Michonne recognized the motion. Mike had tapped wildly before they'd taken their SATs, when they'd opened their college acceptance letters together, and before he'd broken up with her at prom.
Michonne rolled the vehicle to a halt in front of Mike's house. She stopped the engine, looking appreciatively at her friend. "If you feel that way about Terry, you should say something," she told him gently. "You don't want to leave without him knowing."
Mike paused in his fidgeting and smiled at her, amused. "You're the expert now?" he asked, teasingly.
"Nah," Michonne admitted, shaking her head. "Just reminding you that certain things are worth taking a chance on." She didn't want to consider what she would feel now if she hadn't given Rick a shot.
Mike nodded, contemplating this. He glanced at his watch one more time. "You might have a point, Chonne." He kissed her on the cheek, a familiar gesture from days long since passed. "Take care of yourself out there, girl," he told her. "Don't let that boy of yours get into too much trouble."
"Don't get into trouble with your boy," Michonne fired back with a grin. Mike laughed heartily.
"I'm pretty sure he'll forgive me," he said, grinning cheekily. "Especially since I'm going to tell him what I feel."
Laughing, Michonne watched him go. Rolling down the window, she shouted out to him, "Call me, ok?"
"I will," Mike spun on his heel, grinning widely at her.
Michonne smiled back.
-l-l-l-l-
The airplane was cold.
Michonne huddled beneath Rick's borrowed letterman jacket, breathing in the comforting scent. Her flight was packed, families and students all around her, bound for last minute vacations and their new young adult lives. Despite the crowd, Michonne was in a world of her own. Her Walkman thumped music into her ears as she stared out of the window, emotion roiling inside of her.
Saying goodbye to her parents had been much harder than she suspected. There had been tears on both sides. She was exhausted already, torn between her trepidation of being away from her family and her excitement at seeing Rick.
She succumbed to sleep, nodding off through the rest of the flight. Her nerves increased when the flight attendant woke her up, her heart pounding as they landed and she shuffled through the motions of disembarking. She navigated the hallways of LAX, feeling completely out of her depth.
It wasn't until she spotted a familiar curly brown head that she began to smile.
Rick was waiting for her, already leaning on her carefully labeled bags, a shit eating grin on his face. She ran to him, her carryon backpack bouncing behind her, her body hitting him full force in the chest.
"Missed me?" he asked on a laugh, crushing her to him.
In answer, she jerked his face down, kissing him. Rick reciprocated eagerly, cupping her chin, kissing her with a fervor he wouldn't have dared in public back home.
Michonne swayed on the spot, robbed of breath, clutching his arms. She took a moment to look at him. His chin was dusted in the beginnings of what was probably going to be an impressive beard, his hair longer and curlier than he'd left with. He'd definitely put on weight as well, if his arms were any indication. He looked less like the boy she remembered from high school and more like the man that he would soon become.
"I made it," Michonne smiled, hugging him again.
"Of course you did," Rick released her, grabbing her bags. He hurried them out of the baggage claim and into his truck, navigating down the streets of LA like he'd been driving there for months. He chatted nonstop, pointing out places he wanted to bring her, buildings he thought she'd find interesting, and filling her in on four weeks' worth of time that she'd missed.
"Here's my school," he slowed his truck, rolling the window down. Michonne leaned out, taking it all in. She'd seen pictures in her college brochures, but they didn't do it justice.
"Nice," she admitted, smirking at her boyfriend. "So when are you taking me to the better school?"
He smiled, "What do you mean?" he asked, innocently. "We're at the only school in LA that matters."
Despite his teasing, they eventually made it through traffic to UCLA. She got the key to her dorm and trekked up the stairs, Rick in tow. He dutifully helped her unpack, ignoring every dirty look or comment he received for his USC baseball t-shirt from her cohorts around the dorm building. Despite her elation at finally being here in California, the culmination of years of hard work, Michonne found herself counting down to something else. She desperately wanted to be alone with Rick. Instead, she shook hands, smiled, and fielded joke after joke about how she was already dating a "traitor". Rick took it all in good stride, a grin fixed on his face. Hours later, they finally finished. She sat on her bed, exhausted and happy, staring at the empty mattress across from her. The relaxed against one another, enjoying the blow of the air conditioner.
Rick's arm snuck around her waist. "Where's your roommate?" he asked.
Michonne smiled at him. "They said she hasn't shown up yet. I might get the room to myself."
"Oh yeah?" Rick asked, unable to hide his smile.
"Yup," Michonne lay back next to him. "It might just be me in here."
"I don't think it'll be just you in here," Rick suggested. He rolled over, tugging at her waist. Michonne craned her head towards him, heat already beginning to race through her veins. Rick wasted no time in kissing her. She opened her mouth beneath his, deepening their lip lock, her hands wandering. Rick caught them with his own.
"Did you bring that little black dress with you?" he questioned, nipping lightly at her earlobe.
Michonne managed a nod, unable to focus enough to speak.
"Good," Rick kissed her again, covering her body with his for the barest of moments. "Throw it on," he instructed, disengaging from her.
Michonne sat up, confused and disoriented. "Why?" she mustered the strength to ask. She wanted to tug him back on to her new bed and finish what they'd started months ago.
Rick just grinned cheekily at her. He stood up, helping her to her feet. "I'm taking you out," he said, matter-of-factly. Without another word, he left the room so she could change. Thunderstruck, Michonne sat alone on her bed for a moment, contemplating. Her eyes wandered to her suitcase, to the bag she'd hidden in the bottom. She retrieved it, rushing for the girl's bathroom down the hall. She kept the shower water cold, trying to soothe her frayed nerves. She took her time shaving, then smoothing on lotion before pulling on her new purchase. The white lace looked nice against her dark skin. She'd painstakingly selected it a week after Rick left. Shakily, she pulled her dress on over it, refreshing her makeup as she considered the reality of her situation. There were no more days to wait, no more possible interruptions. She and Rick were together in California, just like they'd planned.
Rick apparently spent his time away from her doing some planning of his own. He was wearing a suit when she emerged from her dorm bathroom, his curly hair still damp from his own shower, holding an overnight bag for her.
"Ready?" he asked, smiling.
"Ready," Michonne nervously took his hand, allowing herself to be guided from her new home to his truck. She was hyperaware of the backseat, her mind racing with the memories that they'd made there. Rick steered them along the roads, smiling at her every few moments. There was a faint flush to his cheeks.
The sun was beginning to set when they arrived at Venice Beach.
"I booked us a room for tonight," he announced, his voice cracking just a bit. "If that's ok." He looked at her nervously. Michonne was oddly comforted by it. "We can just go to dinner if you want."
"That's ok," she told him, kissing his cheek.
He grinned, blushing deeper. The blush continued as he checked into the hotel the same way she'd done at her dorm mere hours ago. Michonne followed him to the elevator, clinging to his hand. They made it to the room, the tension between them palpable. Rick's hands shook as he slid in the keycard and swung the door open.
"Do you want to get room service?" he asked her, shutting the door.
Michonne stared at him, her blood rushing through her veins. "I don't think I could eat right now," she said quietly.
Rick nodded, flushed. Gingerly, he stepped towards her, pulling her into his arms. Michonne looped her arms over his shoulders, kissing him softly. He tilted his head, cupping her chin, deepening their lip lock.
"I missed you," he whispered against her mouth. "I couldn't wait for you to come."
Michonne smiled against his lips. "I missed you too," she told him. She took a step back, catching his hands with her own. Slowly, she walked backwards towards the bed in the center of the room, bringing Rick with her. She toed her shoes off before sitting down, looking up at the boy she loved.
"I love you," he echoed her thoughts, leaning down to kiss her. Michonne pulled him down with her. Kissing turned into wandering hands. Methodically, Rick began to remove his suit, one piece at a time. Michonne turned around, allowing him to drag the zipper of her dress down. She shoved the thin straps from her shoulders, spinning in his arms.
Rick's eyes went wide, his face flushing. Michonne knew she wore a similar expression. He hadn't been lying when he said that a month of baseball was going to be good for him. Lean muscle had melted into definition that definitely didn't belong to a high school student.
"Damn," she breathed, shaking.
"No kidding," he hungrily drunk in the sight of her dark skin, contrasted with the white fabric of her specially chosen undergarments. He cursed lowly, reaching for her. Michonne met him halfway.
It was as though something inside them snapped. The awkwardness melted away, leaving only burning hunger behind. Rick's appreciative appraisal of her only increased her fervor. She gasped loudly as he touched her, running her hands over him in turn. Her new garments didn't last long. Discarded somewhere near the side of the bed, Rick replaced them with his mouth, laving at as much of her as he could. Heat flooded her again. She ground against him.
When he began kissing up her thighs, she moaned loudly. Her head thrown back against the bed, Michonne had a flashback of their summer, of trysts in dark corners, of rushed encounters. She never considered she'd be here now with Rick before their prom night. Now she couldn't imagine being anywhere else.
She tugged at his hair, calling his name as her body released under his affections. "Rick," she breathed, shaking slightly. He crawled back up towards her, settling his weight comfortably on top of her.
"Are you ready, baby?" Rick whispered, his voice desperate.
Michonne nodded, "Please," she gasped, unable to take anymore teasing.
When the moment came, Rick was shaking just as badly as she was. She reached up, stroking his hair. He looked down at her, smiling.
"I love you," she reminded him.
"I love you too," he pressed into her, leaning down to kiss her.
Michonne gasped against his mouth.
-l-l-l-l-
Room service did come hours later. Rick and Michonne indulged in steak and potatoes from bed, still wrapped around one another. Her body was sore in the best ways, buzzing from Rick's touch. The curtains leading to the balcony were open, affording them a view of the ocean. Michonne stared out at the horizon, her mind tumbling with possibilities.
Rick watched her, a faint smile playing on his face. "We can go to the beach tomorrow, if you want," he told her, kissing at her neck.
Michonne turned to look at him, her handsome ball player. She wondered what the next few years would bring. There would be opportunity to plan later. For now, she was enjoying this moment. "We have plenty of time," she assured him.
Rick grinned, pulling her back to him. Gently, he laid her down.
"Tons of time," he agreed, kissing her.