Hi, everyone! I've been on a Richonne-writing hiatus to focus on another writing project, but I'm popping back in with this Choose Your Richonne Adventure story. I'm trying to improve my writing and editing speed and hope this story will help with that.

Summary: Michonne and Rick meet at the start of the ZA and navigate the highs and lows of the new world together.

You'll be presented with two options at the end of each chapter. The option with the most votes will shape how the story is told. The next chapters of the story should be short and sweet since I'm trying to write, edit and post them quickly.

If you want to vote on this first chapter, you'll need to do so by next Saturday 4/30.

Enjoy!

"Emory University fencing team, it's your driver, Abe, and I am the bearer of good news this fine April morning. The kind folks here at the King County Bus Station have given me the green light to put the pedal to the metal! Gather your belongings and start making your way to the bus. We burn rubber in twenty minutes!"

Rick Grimes groaned when the too loud, too jolly voice over the PA system woke him from the most restful sleep he'd gotten in months. Michonne Jones, already wide awake, watched Rick wake up and smiled as he rubbed the sleep from his eyes. If she had her phone with her, she would've taken a picture to remember his cute, pouty morning face when she got home.

Michonne was one of the members of the fencing team that had just been instructed to start boarding the team bus back to Atlanta. But she liked where she was at the moment… lying naked on top of Rick.

"Emory University fencing team, I repeat, rubber meets road in twenty minutes!"

Rick yawned loudly and squinted from the brightness of the morning sky above him. Normally, he felt like hell when he woke up on the bus station's rooftop. He and his friends had been camping out on it since high school, sometimes on special occasions like the 4th to watch fireworks, mostly on random weekends to drink beer and listen to classic rock. There were never enough blankets and pillows to make sleeping on concrete comfortable, but Rick had finally figured out the key. Michonne. Michonne's soft, warm body stretched out on top of him made the concrete seem as soft as his mama's homespun cotton candy.

Rick met the gorgeous 24-year-old by chance when her fencing team's bus blew a tire yesterday evening. Abe took the first exit off the highway that he came across to get help—exit 6 to King County—and was directed to the King County Bus Station. When the bus pulled into the station, Rick wasn't concerned or interested. His shift there had just ended, and he wanted to get home to put some work in on his garage-to-man-cave conversion. His dad stopped him from leaving with the words Rick had heard throughout his 27 years of life: "Stick around, son."

Rick wasn't happy about being told to stick around and let his dad know it, but his dad was also the manager of the bus station. As the assistant manager in training, Rick stuck around. He was glad he did when he saw Michonne get off the bus.

"They fixed it," Rick said in a voice deep from sleep. He wrapped his arms around Michonne's soft, warm body and kissed the top of her head.

"They did," Michonne murmured, nuzzling her face against his bare chest. She watched her finger as she traced a heart above Rick's heart and grinned when his hands started sliding down her back.

"You have morning wood," she said coyly, looking up at him.

Rick cupped her ass and gave it a hard squeeze. "That doesn't have anythang to do with the mornin'. That's all you, Michonne."

He moved his hands up to her waist and gently pushed her body down against what she was responsible for, grunting as he slowly rocked her against it. Michonne bit down on her lip and moaned from the friction.

"Rick," she panted, laying her hands flat on his chest to steady herself. "My bus..."

Rick's hands slid back down to her ass, pressing her firmly against him. "I can be fast."

He'd taken his time exploring her body last night, teasing her when he discovered the things that made her beg for me, bringing her to the brink of orgasm again and again before finally letting her explode. Michonne didn't trust him to be fast.

"Liar," she whispered, brushing her lips against his neck, making his body tremble. "And you're out of condoms," she reminded him as she kissed up his neck, leaving one wet, sloppy kiss after another.

Rick exhaled sharply and gave Michonne's ass a stinging slap.

"Fuck," he grumbled as he rubbed the sting away.

Michonne was right. He didn't have another condom, and he wouldn't be able to fuck her fast. He groaned in frustration before capturing her lips with his and kissing her senseless.

"Good mornin', Michonne Odette Jones," he whispered when their kiss ended.

"Good morning, Rick Wyatt Grimes," Michonne replied, giving him the sunniest of smiles.

He didn't know how he'd gotten so lucky meeting Michonne. Being the person to put a smile on a face so beautiful wasn't something he took lightly. He kissed her forehead and let out a content sigh.

"My dad has a bathroom in his office. If you want, I can sneak you in there so you can wash up," he offered.

Michonne pressed a soft kiss to his lips. "Are you sure?" she asked. "I don't want you to get in trouble with your dad. He is your boss."

"I can handle my dad," Rick assured her. "Do you wanna wash up?"

Michonne nodded and gave him another soft kiss.

"I'll make sure you do," he promised, gazing deeply into her dark brown eyes. "I'm thinkin' you should just wear my shirt to my dad's office. It'll be easier for you to take it off to get cleaned up."

Michonne laughed at the suggestion when she realized he was serious. "You want me to walk around a bus station in nothing but a shirt?"

"I'll just be walkin' around in my pants," he pointed out. "And anyways, no one's gonna see you but me. All of this is for my eyes only," he said possessively, giving her ass a light pat. "We can use the employee-access stairs to get to my dad's office, and then we'll just have to get past the breakroom. No one's gonna be in the breakroom this early. So what do you think? Sound like a plan? Or do you wanna smell like me on your bus ride home? Cuz I'm alright with that, too."

"It sounds like a good enough plan," Michonne said, smiling.

"It sounds like a great plan," Rick replied with a cocky grin. "Let's get to it so you can get on that bus."

On their way down the employee stairwell, Rick could see that his dad's office door was closed. His dad always left the door open to encourage employees to stop by and visit. A closed door meant his dad wasn't in his office, and that meant getting Michonne into the office would be easier than Rick thought. Though he didn't expect anyone to be in the breakroom, he decided to play it safe. He looked back at Michonne and pointed to the breakroom to let her know he was going to peek in. When she nodded her head in understanding, his eyes trailed down to her nipples. They were poking through his blue polo shirt, begging him to take a nibble.

Michonne poked Rick in his side, pointed to the breakroom, and shielded her nipples with the clothes she was carrying.

"Sorry," Rick mouthed to her, grinning at the unimpressed look on her face.

He peeked in the breakroom, and when he saw his best friend, Shane, he rolled his eyes. Shane had his arm up the vending machine trying to reach a pack of sunflower seeds. Rick looked back at Michonne and nodded to let her know they were in the clear. The last time Shane had his arm up the vending machine, it got stuck and the fire department had to be called. He wasn't worried about Shane noticing them.

"The bathroom's through that door over there," Rick whispered to Michonne after ushering her into his dad's office.

"Thanks again, Rick," Michonne whispered. "And I was wrong… it was a great plan." She gave him a kiss on his cheek and hurried to the bathroom.

Rick watched her walk away, tilting his head as he took in the sight of her ass jiggling against his shirt. His dick was so hard that it hurt. He adjusted himself and considered following Michonne into the bathroom until Shane threw an arm around his shoulder and asked, "Who was that? Why's she wearin' your shirt? And ain't it some kinda violation for you to be standin' around half naked with a boner at work?"

Rick's erection instantly went limp.

"Why are you in here, Shane?"

"Was she one of those fancy city girls from that broke down bus? That did not look like local tail to me."

"Her name's Michonne, and keep your eyes off her ass," Rick warned, shrugging Shane's arm off.

"Michonne. That's a fancy city girl name if I ever heard one. Makes sense... A fancy city girl name to go with that fancy city girl—Ow!" Shane shouted when Rick punched him in the arm.

"Don't talk about Michonne's ass. Don't look at Michonne's ass. Don't think about Michonne's ass," Rick snapped.

"Calm down, asshole. You know a nice ass is my Achille's heel." Shane smirked while rubbing his arm. "I'm guessin' Miss Michonne's the reason the rooftop door was locked last night? You two were up there hoggin' the roof and bumpin' uglies?"

"Shane, shut up."

"Why? I can't ask questions about your fancy city girl?"

"No. And keep quiet." Rick didn't want Shane's voice drawing his dad to his office. "Why aren't you workin'? Who's at the ticket counter?"

"Man, you know it's always slow on Monday mornin', but I got Lori to hold thangs down for me. I'm responsible like that," Shane said, sitting on the oak desk behind him. "Oooohweeee! Lori's gonna pitch a fit when she finds out you bumped uglies with someone else's ugly!"

"That ain't Lori's business, Shane."

"You're right. It ain't," Shane agreed. "But that fit she pitches is gonna be hilarious!"

Shane laughed thinking about it. Rick pinched the bridge of his nose. He'd taken Lori out to eat a few Saturdays ago to get to know her better. She was cute and was a really nice girl, but ten minutes into their meal he knew she wasn't the right girl for him. He'd made it very clear that there wouldn't be a second date, but Lori seemed to be holding out hope.

"Ask me what I saw her writin' in her little notepad this mornin'."

"No."

"She was writin' Lori Grimes with a little heart above the i's. I bet she's got your baby names picked out, too," Shane said, grinning. "I might just have to swoop in and be her shoulder to cry on when you break her heart."

"Be my guest," Rick deadpanned. "Have you seen my dad around?" he asked with his hands on his hips. With Shane not even trying to keep his voice down, he figured his dad would've come to his office by now.

"Your daddy ain't comin' in today," Shane said, picking up the snow globe on the desk. "He tried callin' you, but your phone was dead. Don't worry, I covered for you, man. I told him you were takin' a monster dump." Shane shook the snow globe and set it back down. "Oooohweee! Gettin' mornin' tail is like gettin' an itch scratched that you didn't know needed scratchin'. How was the scratch, Rick?"

"What's goin' on with my dad?" Rick asked. He wasn't telling Shane anything about how good that scratch was.

"The scratch was that good?" Shane asked, raising his eyebrows.

"Shane," Rick said in warning.

"Yeah, it was that g—Ow!" Shane shouted when Rick punched him in the arm much harder than the last time. "Calm down, asshole," he grumbled, rubbing his arm. "Your daddy said an ambulance showed up at the Neidermeyers' place. Old man Neidermeyer's not doin' so hot. Your daddy and your mama drove out to the hospital to sit with old lady Neidermeyer."

Rick had known the The Niedermeyers' all his life. The old couple lived in the house next to his parents' and were like another set of grandparents to him. He'd give his parents a call to find out what was happening once Michonne was all squared away.

"Hopefully the hospital has calmed down. When I talked to Amber last night, she said thangs were wild as hell out there. She had to cancel our date."

"Who's Amber?" Rick asked.

"Amber… the nurse. Blonde, legs for days, has that little snort when she laughs."

Rick didn't know Amber. Shane went through too many girls for him to keep track of, so he didn't try.

"Amber might be the one, man! I just don't know about that snort. Sometimes it's real cute, and sometimes she sounds like a little, baby pig. It's a dilemma," Shane said, feeling genuinely conflicted. He didn't know if the woman he made Mrs. Shane Walsh could have a snort.

Rick wasn't wasting his time talking about snorts with Shane. "What was goin' on at the hospital?" he asked.

"Amber said her floor had to be locked down because some patients were actin' like they lost their goddamn minds, tryin' to bite people and shit. She wasn't sure what was wrong with 'em, but it sounds to me like they were on bad a trip."

"Daryl said Merle was busted for sellin' again. He probably sold 'em some bad..."

Rick lost his train of thought when Michonne opened the bathroom door. It was like seeing her again for the first time, with a few minor differences... her sleeveless white blouse and navy-blue Capris pants were badly wrinkled; she no longer had any makeup on; her braids, while still pulled back into one big braid down her back, didn't lay as perfectly as they did yesterday.

But Michonne still looked perfect to him.

The urge to throw her over his shoulder, take her to his house, get her in his bed, and discover everything about her while they made love was even stronger than the urge he felt yesterday. He licked his lips and watched her walk to him.

Michonne's stomach clenched. The predatory look in Rick's eyes was the same look she saw in them when she got off the bus yesterday. She swallowed hard and walked over to him with his shirt in hand, holding his scorching gaze with every step she took.

Standing in front of him with maybe six inches between them, she wordlessly handed him his shirt. Rick took it from her without breaking eye contact.

Shane looked at Rick staring at Michonne. He looked at Michonne staring at Rick. He didn't think either one would notice if he stripped naked and started doing the Cowboy Boogie in front of them. He smirked because Rick was already whipped with a capital P, but he was happy for his best friend. He was even happier that Rick had finally gotten laid after almost a two-year dry spell. He was happiest that Michonne was a baddie because she probably had friends who were baddies.

"You two gonna spend all day eye-fuckin'? Or are you gonna act like your mama raised you right and introduce me, Rick?"

Michonne, who hadn't even noticed anyone sitting on the desk when she came out the bathroom, took a step away from Rick, embarrassment heating her cheeks.

Rick rolled his eyes and stared at Shane.

"Well?" Shane asked.

"Well, what?" Rick replied.

"Introduce me to Michonne."

"No. Get back to work."

"No. I don't think I will," Shane hopped off the desk and took Michonne's hand. She looked surprised, but she didn't snatch her hand away, which made Shane like her even more. "Michonne, one of the thangs you'll learn about Rick is that he can be a stubborn jackass when he wants to be, so let me introduce myself. My name is Shane Walsh. I am a Virgo. I stand at five feet, eleven inches. I weigh in at one hundred and eighty-three pounds, mostly muscle. I wear a shoe size of ten and a half wide. I like my eggs sunny-side up in the mornin'."

"Alright," Rick grumbled, pulling Michonne's hand out of Shane's. He wrapped his hand around Michonne's and pulled her closer.

"She needs to know these thangs," Shane said to Rick. "You gotta pass all that on to your flock of baddies," he said to Michonne.

"My flock of baddies?"

"Michonne, don't engage with him. You'll lose braincells tryin' to make sense of anythang he says," Rick told her.

"Michonne, don't listen to Rick. I've been told I'm a very intellectually stimulatin' man."

"By who?" Rick asked. "Who told you you're stimulatin'?"

"Yo mama" was on the tip of Shane's tongue, but he didn't want to be punched in the arm a third time. He could tell that Rick was ready to punch him again.

"It's a shame you gotta go," Shane said to Michonne. "You, Rick, me, and one of the baddies coulda went on a double date. When you comin' back out here?"

Michonne hadn't given any thought to when she would see Rick again. She'd been so wrapped up in the time they'd shared together that nothing beyond it was on her radar.

"Or should we come visit you?" Shane asked. "We ain't been to Atlanta in a minute, Rick. We'd have to convince Daryl to go, but he'd be down. Daryl can't handle a baddie, Michonne. Do you have any almost-but-not-quite-a-baddie friends? You know what you should do? Text Rick pics of your single friends before we drive out. That way I know what we're workin' with."

"Shane," Rick said in warning.

"It's a fair request, man. She can show her friends what we look like. I got no problem with that. I'll send you my selfies from that barbecue at the lake last month. You send 'em to Michonne, and she can show 'em to her friends."

"Don't text me your selfies, Shane."

"Michonne, do you stay close to the baseball stadium? Our go-to hotel in Atlanta is right next to it. Free breakfast, free Wifi, and a covered outdoor pool! Boom, boom, and boom! Should we come out this weekend?"

Shane had thrown out a lot of questions that Michonne wasn't sure how to answer. It seemed as if she and Rick had been existing in a bubble over the last fourteen hours, which had just been popped, and now reality was sinking in, reminding her who she was.

She was the daughter of Genevieve Jones—a judge on the Georgia Court of Appeals, and Morgan Jones—the fire chief of the Atlanta Rescue Fire Department. Spending the night on the rooftop with a stranger, sneaking around a building in nothing but a shirt, taking wash offs in someone's office, and eye-fucking in public was not behavior becoming of the daughter of Genevieve and Morgan Jones.

Michonne Jones focused on two things: law school and building her family legacy into something greater than it already was. The only reason she was in King County was because of an intercollegiate fencing competition in New Orleans. Her team placed first. She'd successfully added another accomplishment to the Jones family legacy. If the team bus hadn't blown a tire on the way back to Atlanta, she'd be in class right now, working toward her goal of graduating with summa cum laude honors.

She'd had so much fun with Rick, but having fun was not a norm in her life. There was no room for it. If her parents found out that she'd been with Rick or that she was associating with him and his friends, she would lose the small amount of autonomy they granted her.

Rick saw the panicked look on Michonne's face and decided Shane needed to leave.

"Me and Michonne need a minute, and you need to get back to work," he said, pushing Shane to the door.

"I can't even say goodbye?" Shane asked, trying to turn around.

"No."

"Your mama would be appalled by your lack of social graces!" Shane hollered. As he was shoved out the office, he shouted, "Bye, Michonne! Hope to see you soon!"

"It was a pleasure meeting you, Shane," Michonne replied cordially.

"Rick, you might wanna use the breakroom's back door to get to the bus… to avoid a fit bein' pitched."

"Yeah," Rick agreed. "Thanks. Now go."

He closed the door on Shane and turned back to Michonne, whose face was now composed and completely unreadable. He wasn't sure how to take that but assumed it was bad.

"Will you give me a minute?" he asked, nodding to the bathroom. His bladder was killing him, but he also needed a little time to figure out why things had just changed between him and Michonne. He wanted to say the right thing before she got on her bus.

Michonne gave him a nod. As he rushed to the bathroom with that bow-legged walk of his, she thought about heading to the bus without him. The voice in her head said there was no point in dragging out the inevitable; her heart said she and Rick deserved a goodbye. She listened to her heart, sat in one of the chairs at Rick's dad's desk, and waited.

When Rick opened the bathroom door, she didn't turn to look at him. She smoothed her silk blouse down to calm her churning stomach and gasped in surprise when her chair was suddenly being turned. Rick positioned her chair where he wanted it and sat in the chair next to her, positioning it to face her.

"Shane is an idiot," he said, pulling her chair closer to him by its front legs. "I'm sorry for everythang he said that offended you. I'm sorry for not kickin' him out when you were in the bathroom. He's my best friend, but he's a lot, and I should've waited to introduce you."

Michonne held onto her armrests, breathing hard and staring at Rick. He'd put his polo shirt on, and the sky-blue color made his blue eyes pop; his curly hair looked like it had been combed back with his fingers; she could smell minty toothpaste on his breath; and his legs were spread wide so that he could hold onto her chair legs.

She was trying hard not to be turned on.

"I liked what we did last night, Michonne… I liked how good you felt… I liked how pretty you looked when I made you cum…"

Michonne's breath came out ragged. She gripped her armrests tighter.

"But I liked everythang about last night," Rick said. "Talkin' and laughin' with you, watchin' the sun set, wakin' up with you. I liked all of it. I like you. I'd like to keep talkin' to you and seein' you."

Rick hoped his direct approach was the right approach. He was laying all his cards on the table and wanted Michonne to do the same. He let go of her chair legs and sat back in his chair.

Michonne felt a little tingly and a little lightheaded from the things Rick had said, but she hadn't lost sight of reality. Once she was back in Atlanta, these feelings, as mutual as they were, wouldn't matter. This thing between them couldn't possibly go anywhere. She didn't know how to explain all of that to Rick in a way that wouldn't insult him, so she said the politest thing that came to mind.

"Thank you."

"You're welcome?" Rick replied awkwardly. He forced a smile to hide how confused and disappointed he was by her response and then stood to walk her to her bus. There was nothing else to say.

Michonne regretted that "thank you" as soon as it came out, but there wasn't enough time to make things right. She silently followed Rick as he led her through the breakroom to her bus.

Abe, standing outside the bus with a clipboard in hand, sighed in relief when he saw Michonne. It had been well over twenty minutes since he made his announcement about the bus leaving, but if he left without knowing where Michonne was, his ass would be chopped off, flambéed, and handed to him by her very high-profile parents. He crossed her name off his check-in list and wiped his sweaty brow.

"Miss Jones, you made it!" he called out. "It's a good thing you did. The wheels on the bus are about to go round and round."

"I'm sorry I'm late, Abe. I was…" She clamped her lips together. She had no reason to tell him the truth, but she didn't want to tell him a bad lie. She needed to think of a good lie. What she told Abe could get back to her parents.

Abe fanned himself with his clipboard, curious about what lie Michonne was about to tell him. He wasn't born yesterday. He'd seen Michonne and the son of the bus station manager go off together yesterday, and he knew she hadn't slept in the bus station with her teammates last night. He knew that whoopie had been made. He wasn't going to judge Michonne because it wasn't his place to do so. He also wasn't going to make her any more uncomfortable than she already was. He liked her too much to do that.

"You were on an early morning historic walk with the locals learning about King County's rich history. You lost track of time and got here as quickly as you could. That's what I'm assuming happened, Miss Jones. Am I correct?"

Michonne kept her lips pressed together and nodded her head in agreement.

"Then that's what I'll report if there are any questions asked when we get back to Atlanta," he told her. "You're Carl Grimes's son?" he asked Rick.

"Yes, sir. I'm Rick Grimes," Rick answered, holding his hand out.

Abe tucked his clipboard under his arm and shook Rick's hand, appreciating the firm handshake. "I haven't seen your pops today, but please pass on my thanks for his help in getting my bus rolling again. And also give my thanks to the town folks for bringing in the sleeping bags, blankets, pillows, and toiletries. The hospitality has been topnotch. You all made our unexpected stay as comfortable as possible."

"We were happy to help, sir. It's the King County way," Rick said with pride. "My dad had to deal with an emergency this mornin' or else he'd be here to see you off, but I'm sure if he was here, he'd ask you give him a call once you make it to Atlanta. He'll sleep better tonight knowin' you made it back safe."

"Noted," Abe replied. "By the way, Miss Jones, if you were looking for your bag and purse, you'll find them with Miss Clayton and Miss Okumura. I know you three are close, so I trusted them to take your belongings with them when they boarded the bus. Seemed safer than letting your bag and purse sit unattended in the bus station. No offense, Rick."

"None taken, sir."

"That's fine, Abe," Michonne said. "Thank you."

She was glad that her best friends, Jocelyn and Yumiko, had her carry-on items with them. The bus probably would've been halfway to Atlanta before she remembered her things were still in the bus station. She wondered what Rick would've done if he saw her things were still there after the bus departed. Would he find out where she lived and have her things shipped to her? Would he drive to Atlanta and deliver them personally?

She gave him a side glance, but he was focused on Abe.

"Can I get you a bottled water?" he asked, noticing how sweaty and pale Abe looked. "I don't mind grabbin' you a couple for the road."

"No, thank you. I'm fine," Abe replied, waving off the offer. "It's just the heat. Once I get some ice-cold A/C blowing in my face, I'll be A-OK."

Rick didn't think it was especially warm out, but Abe was wearing dress pants and a dress shirt with a vest and a tie. He could see why the driver might be feeling a little overheated wearing such formal clothes.

"Are you sure you don't need a cold drink?" Michonne asked. Abe had been the fencing team's bus driver for a few years, and she'd never seen him look so hot and sweaty.

"I'm sure, Miss Jones. No need to be concerned," he said, loosening his tie. "You two should go ahead and say your goodbyes. I'll give you a few minutes."

"Michonne, I saved you a seat."

Abe looked over his shoulder and glared at Mike Lawrence, wondering why one of his least favorite passengers on the bus was no longer on the bus. "Get back to your seat, Mr. Lawrence," he ordered.

Mike wasn't going to let the bus driver intimidate him in front of that country bumpkin standing next to Michonne.

"It's the window seat, just like you like," he said to Michonne.

"Good gracious Ignacious," Abe muttered under his breath. He didn't have time for whatever drama Mike was trying to stir up. He just wanted to get back to Atlanta as soon as possible so he could get home and lie down. "Mr. Lawrence… back on the bus… Now!" he growled.

Mike took a step back onto the bus, but only because he wanted to get back on the bus. "Gladly. The sooner we leave this hick town and return to civilization, the better," he mumbled. "We're in seats 4A and 4B, my love. We have summer plans to discuss."

Abe watched Mike walk up the steps of the bus and started fanning himself with his clipboard again.

"Tick tock, Miss Jones. We do need to get home."

Judging by their faces, Michonne and Rick were going to need more than a few minutes to talk things out, but Abe couldn't give them that. He walked up the steps to his driver's seat, feeling a little winded as he buckled up.

Michonne stood mortified. She could only imagine what must be running through Rick's head right now. She'd broken up with Mike almost two months ago and needed to make sure Rick understood that.

She turned to face him and blurted out, "He's my ex! Mike knows I don't have feelings for him. He knows we won't be getting back together. I told him when I broke up with him."

Rick wasn't going to waste time talking about Michonne's ex.

"Stay," he whispered, taking her hand. When confusion spread across her face, he squeezed her hand. "Stay with me, just a little longer, just one more day."

Rick wasn't sure what one more day with a chance would amount to, but he had a sinking feeling they would never see each other again if they said goodbye. He was also convinced that Michonne did feel something for him. When he confessed his feelings, she said, "Thank you." If she had no feelings for him, then she would've said so since that's what she'd told her ex.

"Atlanta's only four hours away, Michonne. I can drive you back tomorrow mornin'. I can make sure you get to your first class on time."

"Rick," Michonne said in a quiet voice, shaking her head.

"And I still owe you a rooftop sunrise. We slept through it this mornin'. We won't miss it tomorrow."

Michonne had to look away from Rick's eyes. She couldn't think straight seeing how full of hope they were.

"I'm not ready for thangs to be over between us, Michonne," he said softly, gently tilting her chin up to look into her eyes again. "Are you?"

Michonne's heart was pounding hard, drowning out the little voice in her head telling her to just say goodbye and go.

"If you are, tell me right now and I'll walk away." Rick caressed her chin and gazed into her eyes.

"Miss Jones, we need to get a move on!" Abe shouted from the driver's seat.

The daughter of Genevieve and Morgan Jones almost always did what was expected of her. Making a choice to do otherwise had Michonne on the verge of hyperventilating, but she wasn't ready for things to be over with Rick.

"Come with me!" she blurted out.

She honestly didn't think Abe would care if Rick got on the bus. She didn't think her teammates would cause any problems, either. They all had dirt on each other. If someone exposed what she was doing with Rick, she would expose their secrets. And she expected Mike to be unpleasant on the bus, but he had a recreational cocaine habit that he didn't want his parents to know about. He would stay quiet when it mattered.

"We can stay at the Four Seasons, we can go to some of my favorite places," she said excitedly, thinking through their day in Atlanta, "and I can arrange a car service to King County to get you back home tomorrow."

"Michonne, I can't afford all that," Rick said sheepishly.

"I can." Her parents deposited money into her checking account monthly. She had plenty of money to spend. "I'm willing to break the rules for us, Rick, however we choose to break them. I'm not ready for this to be over. I want one more day. I do."

She couldn't believe what she was saying and what she was about to do.

"Miss Jones! Time's up!" Abe shouted. "Will you be getting on the bus or staying behind?"

Readers, this is your first vote of the story. Should this story continue with Option A: Richonne in King County or Option B: Richonne on the bus to Atlanta?

Weigh your options carefully and keep in mind that you're also deciding which characters Richonne will be stuck with as they survive in the ZA.

If you choose not to vote, feel free to just leave feedback! Thank you!

Stay safe out there.