After settling into her new home, Michonne grew angsty and hungry. She trudged around the home, noting how it wasn't as luxurious or spacious as she was used to. The floors creaked, the walls were a horrible pasty white, and the furniture was rather dull. She wasn't used to anything less than what she'd always gotten, so it took some getting used to. The other thing that bothered her was that she was struggling with doing things that her assistant usually did for her. She had to clean up the floors, make her own bed, find her own food, and buy her own food. She had a maid who cleaned her home and an assistant who fetched her things and did everything for her, or at least the things that mattered. Now that she was hungry, her first instinct was to call up her assistant Leanne and ask her to bring her something back from a local restaurant or diner.

Sighing, she remembered her fathers rules: no using your money. She groaned, heading towards the kitchen, which sat empty. She went to the refrigerator, which had two apples, an orange, expired milk, and a banana that looked like it had survived the dinosaurs. She knew that she had to go grocery shopping, but realized that in her entire adult life, she'd never done that.

Well, it's now or never, she thought.

She decided to get dressed and "fetch food" from the local supermarket. She wore a cashmere sweater paired with a simple pair of jeans, her locs were pulled back into a bun. She took off, but realized that she didn't have a car or anything to get her to the grocery store. Her father had only paid her rent, given her some money for food and cab fare, but hadn't left her anything else to get by beyond that. How the fuck am I supposed to survive with no money? She thought to herself. She was bored already with being poor and normal. Not knowing what to do, she sat on the front steps of her home, her stomach grumbling.

Then she heard it, the sound of that familiar chuckle. "Well, well, well, looks like we're neighbors," Rick said, enjoying himself a bit too much.

"Unfortunately," Michonne told him, her tone was once again curt and clipped.

"What's got you so Scrooge-like? It's Christmas," Rick asked.

His eyes roved her body, scanning her shapely form before landing on her lovely, yet frustrated face. He couldn't help but be intrigued by the woman who came into town looking for his father. His father worked at a Coca Cola Greeting Cards distribution company where he was in charge of the yearly Coca Cola greeting card's marketing campaign. He came up with the heartwarming sentiments on the cards and worked closely with the CEO on heartwarming ways to get the message across. This year things were even harder for his father, as he hadn't seen him around town at all and truly didn't know if he'd make it back for Christmas or not. He wondered how the girl knew his father or why she needed to give him a set of letters. He remembered that his father had a childhood friend who gave him letters, and he'd seen how various lives in town had been impacted by their "magic spell." As he stared at her, he became even more intrigued by her. He couldn't stop thinking about her, actually. He had to know who this person was and why she was here. He took her being his neighbor as a twisted form of fate that he wasn't missing out on.

Michonne simply looked at him. "I'm just not having the best time and I'm hungry."

"You don't have any food?" Rick asked.

"No," she admitted. "I - uh - I didn't know how to get to the supermarket…"

Rick contemplated for a second, not knowing how deep he should get with the beautiful stranger or if she even wanted his help. "How about I take you? I need to do some grocery shopping too…"

"You don't mind doing that?"

She couldn't believe that a person just wanted to help, with no strings attached. Immediately, her suspicion sensed and so did her defenses.

"I'll have to pay you something for this," she insisted.

"Keep your money," Rick insisted. "It's a favor. Favors are free."

"Free?"

"Yeah," Rick repeated. "Free."

"So, I don't have to pay you for this?" Michonne questioned him again, clarifying things.

"No. What's with you and money? Money is great, but other things are too," Rick surmised.

Rick wasn't aware, but his words hit Michonne in a deep place. She started to remember her childhood, where her father worked as a janitor at Coca Cola and her mother worked as a maid at rich people's houses. She remembered how simple it was, then. Money is great, but other things are too. Those words played in her mind over and over, before she shook her head. She couldn't let this man strike a nerve in her, because she was only here to give her father those silly letters and get her inheritance. She wasn't here to get attached to handsome men.

"Are you going to stare into space all day?" Rick asked, already sitting in his truck with the engine running.

"Fine!" She ran over, hopping inside.

Once inside, Rick took off, driving towards the supermarket. While he was driving, she took inventory of his Chevy truck that must've been from 1965, with the rusted exterior and chipped paint. The inside was bare and plain, with seats that had dingy suede and rusted fixings. The radio was older, as she recognized the model from her father's truck that he had when she was just a young girl. Once again, memories flashed back to simpler times, but she brushed those aside, deciding to settle into the image of herself that she'd built over the years. It was the person she felt comfortable with now.

"This truck is pretty old. How come you don't buy a new one?" Michonne questioned him.

Rick just shrugged. "I don't need to. This truck gets me everywhere I need to go."

"Wouldn't a newer one do the same thing?" Michonne asked, pressing him further.

"It would, but I love this truck and it loves me," he said simply. "You're obsessed with money, you know that, right?"

"I am not obsessed with money. How would you know? You've only known me for one day," Michonne huffed, crossing her arms over her chest.

"You just seemed preoccupied with it, is all," Rick said, his shrewd eyes surveying her. He was picking her apart. Assessing her. It unnerved her deeply, and she didn't like being under his watchful, knowing gaze.

"I just don't know how to turn that off," she admitted. "It's nothing. Let's just go to the store, okay?"

"Fine, fine," he said, pulling off once more.

When they arrived at the store, Michonne stared at it in confusion. She was mystified by the sights, sounds, colors, and textures of it. For some reason, she'd never experienced a place where everyone was happy and joyful; where everyone was surrounded by loved ones and not climbing over themselves to fall at her feet. She saw the Christmas decorations lining the front of the stores, with the brightest bows, lights, and Christmas cheer. In her heart, she felt...something akin to eagerness.

She swiftly climbed out of Rick's truck, running over to grab her own cart to do her own grocery shopping. Rick simply smiled at her, mystified by the woman who appeared as though she'd never seen a grocery store before.

He had so many questions about her, but decided not to ask her just yet.

"Someone's excited to shop," Rick teased, that trademark smirk lining his pretty lips.

She found herself smirking back. "I am, cowboy. Let's go."

Once inside, Michonne marveled at the store, which was stocked with brands that she scarcely recognized. She looked at the prices below each product, marveling at how an entire liter of soda could only cost a couple of dollars even though she'd been paying her assistant a couple thousand dollars to fetch her things from the store. She scrunched her eyebrows together, picking up the soda and placing it in the cart. Afterwards, she checked her wallet and saw that there was only fifty dollars there in her shopping budget. She remembered her father's words about having to get a job to survive, but she figured that Rick's father wouldn't take that long. Fifty dollars would be more than enough to stock her fridge for a couple of days, she surmised.

Rick watched Michonne awkwardly move through each aisle as if she'd never been inside a grocery store or shopped for herself before. She put together odd combinations of products, like two jars of peanut butter but no bread. Eventually, he saw her finally relent and turn to him for help.

"I've never - I've never really shopped for myself before," she admitted to him quietly. "I'm not sure what I'm doing."

"Here, let me help you, okay?" Rick said gently, placing his hand on top of hers as he removed a random package of Ritz crackers from her polished fingers.

As their fingers brushed together, both felt the shock of something and quickly pulled away. For a moment, they both awkwardly looked away, uncertain of whatever that was that passed between them. They didn't want to acknowledge that just yet.

Rick held true to his word and helped Michonne, even teaching her the tips and tricks of "bargain shopping." He managed to fill her cart with all the fixings, including chips, bread, and fresh fruits and vegetables; he also bought her basic meal prep products to make spaghetti, sausages, and rice and beans. Satisfied, he pushed her cart to the front of the store while she trailed behind him with a relieved smile on her face...until the price blared across the cash register's screen.

$60.25

"That'll be $60.25, ma'am," the woman said. Michonne flushed, embarrassed as she realized that she didn't have enough to buy everything.

"Can I put some things back?" Michonne questioned her. "I only have $50."

"Sure, ma'am, what will you be putting -"

" - No, I'll pay the remaining amount," Rick insisted.

Michonne's eyes widened, before glistening with unshed tears. She wasn't sure how to feel about him helping her in this manner, or why. She realized that she'd never experienced what it was like to not have enough of something, but beyond that, she'd never experienced someone who didn't care what she had.

Once the extra amount was paid, Rick pushed Michonne's cart into the parking lot while Michonne hesitantly followed. Her heart beat faster, her mind felt scattered, her senses felt confused.

"Why'd you do that?" She questioned him, her eyes finally filling up with tears. Embarrassed, she turned around so that he wouldn't see her crying.

"It's no big deal, Michonne," he once again brushed it off.

"It's not?" she asked, genuinely confused.

"Not in the slightest," he continued, as he put her groceries in the back of his truck before walking back to the driver's side. Michonne quickly followed, hesitantly sitting in the passenger's side.

"Nobody's ever done that for me before," Michonne said.

"Nobody's ever helped you out?"

"They have, but not because they wanted to. They were just around me for my...nevermind," she brushed aside vaguely. "Let's take this stuff home."

Rick squinted at her, once again suspicious of who this Michonne was and where she'd come from. As he drove off towards her home once again, he wondered why his father's friend really brought her here.