AN: Set between TOWL Episode 4 & 5. The road trip continues, now with bonus soundtrack, and some flirty banter. Unbeta'd, all errors are mine. Rated T, for music-inspired romancin', some bittersweet memory reflection, and Rick and Michonne being very much in love. Once again, thank you for all the reviews, I truly appreciate every one!
Rick awoke to the sound of music; an unusual occurrence on its own, not to mention he hadn't even remembered falling asleep. He stirred slightly in the truck's passenger seat, eyes slowly opening to the sight of Michonne, easing the vibrant yellow truck down the empty highway, and singing quietly.
Briefly, his eyes drifted shut once more, savoring the sweetness of her smooth and smoky alto; he couldn't recall ever hearing her sing before, though that wasn't entirely surprising, considering their circumstances, never quite being anyplace where music and singing would be a possibility. And neither was it surprising that she would also be good at it, like damn near everything she put her mind to.
"Your love makes me feel ten feet tall…" Michonne crooned along, her husky tone riding the soft R&B beat, wrapping him in a cozy, soothing warmth. "Without it I'd go through withdrawal, 'cause nothing even matters at all…"
And she hadn't yet realized her audience of one was awake and feeling a little bit rapturous at the sight and sound of her, as she hummed and harmonized her way through the song Rick could vaguely recall, but he was far more focused on her voice than the lyrics. Seeing her slight smile when she sang along to the words, in an effortless, easy kind of way that he hadn't seen in so long.
She was so damn beautiful, and so damn happy.
"Didn't know you could sing." His voice roughened from the unexpected nap and Rick grinned slightly when she started a bit, shoulders jumping before she glanced over at him, taking in his adoring expression.
"Afternoon, Sleeping Beauty." Michonne brushed a few stray curls from his forehead, her teasing smile melting into something sweeter and just the tiniest bit shy when he caught her hand in his and threaded their fingers.
"Hey, sweetheart. Ready for a pit stop?"
Michonne shook her head. "Not yet. I'm okay. We can go a little further, get some more miles in before it gets dark."
"Alright. How long was I out for?" Rick asked, kissing her knuckles before loosening his grip. "'Cause I don't remember music playin'."
"Found a couple of mixes in the middle console," Michonne explained, nodding towards the compartment that separated their seats. "You've been snoring away for the last five songs."
Rick snorted a laugh as he shifted in his seat, sitting up straighter while he poked around the console. There were two other CDs, all labeled 'Driving Mix' in clear jewel cases. "Someone was prepared," he remarked, shutting the console with a snap. "Anythin' good? Besides whatever you were singin'."
"A Lauryn Hill classic." Michonne smiled. "It's been pretty good so far. They really took 'mix' to heart. A little bit of this and that. Didn't realize how much I missed it, listening to music."
"Yeah, it's weird. But nice, too." Rick absently nodded along with the next song, something alternative sounding that he faintly recognized as a 90s Top 40 staple, but couldn't place it, the monotone voice singing about disco lemonade. "This one was kinda everywhere, wasn't it?"
Michonne eyed him, her smile growing. "Yes, old man. It was. What are the odds of you knowing any of these?"
Rick met that with a good-natured scowl, that didn't last long because she was giggling at him in the way that always got him flustered; her ribbing was warm and a little mean, but more playful than anything. Like he was in on the joke, and with Michonne, he always was. "I knew of this one," he pointed out, snapping his fingers along with the catchy ending chorus. "Can't say I'm a human jukebox like my present and very pretty company, but I know a little."
"There was a compliment in there, right?"
"I always got a compliment for you," he replied, with a wink that he knew would get her laughing again.
And he liked that, the ease between them. Missed it so badly, it hurt his chest to think of how long he went without it.
Without her.
"You do know I'm talking about music other than country?" Michonne asked, keeping the conversation rolling as they cruised on the forest-lined highway. "If I remember, that's kind of your only wheelhouse."
Head tilted, a questioning look in dark blue eyes, Rick pursed his lips. "I know more'n country, darlin'" he replied, his drawl heavy and not at all helping his case, but damn if it didn't sound good, and Michonne considered his point before responding.
"Alright, wise guy. Give me a favorite…that isn't a country singer."
Rick scoffed. "Easy, baby." He counted off on his fingers, starting with his thumb. "The Boss."
"Springsteen?" Michonne raised a brow. "Okay, not bad. I can see that, actually. Jersey cool, but still with the blue collar cowboy vibe."
"Is that really a thing?"
"It used to be," she replied, taking her gaze from the road to let her eyes linger on him, outfitted in flannel and blue jeans, and heavy boots, with a salt and pepper beard "Mmm, yeah. You definitely got the vibe."
He took a minute to appreciate her, appreciating him, his smile growing when her gaze met his and he knew she realized she'd been caught. Neither one cared, though. She was a damn fine view, and he was greedy for the sight of her.
As the mix went on, their conversation flowed, and while they didn't always recognize the songs, they let the CD run, providing background noise to the banter.
"I used to love doing this," Michonne said, as Rick switched out the first CD for a new one from the console. "Taking road trips, making the perfect mixes."
"Yeah," Rick nodded in agreement. "Don't miss the bad gas station coffee though."
Her smoky laugh rang out in the brief silence between the songs, her fingers dancing along the steering wheel. "Not that, no. Had to keep it for snacks only. But I always liked driving. Even in the city."
"Couldn't wait to get my first car. Saved up for three summers, workin' construction for it."
"Let me guess, some kinda pickup?" She was teasing him again, dark eyes alight with mischief and catching the rays of tree-dappled sunlight that streamed through the car, and Rick thought she never looked lovelier, even while poking fun at him.
"I lived on a farm, woman," he said, side-eye holding no heat even as she laughed at him. "It was practical."
"Of course." Her giggle said otherwise, though. "Sure you looked good in it, too."
"I did," he agreed, looking a little smug but she figured he earned it through all her teasing. "Dark blue Ford. Ran like a beaut."
"Mhm. That's definitely the cowboy vibe."
"What about you," Rick asked, turning down the music slightly and fixing her with a curious look. "What was a fancy big city girl drivin' around for her first car?"
"'Fancy', huh?" Michonne shook her head. "I was. Me and my Accura went on a lot of adventures, thank you."
"I bet." His smile lingered as he watched her, humming along to the song he hadn't been paying any attention to, far too focused on the little shoulder dancing she did, moving to whatever beat came on with each track. "What was your favorite adventure, sweetheart?"
Her smile dimmed a bit, and Rick could tell that the story carried some bad with the good. As did most memories of life before. Strange to think, so much time passed between the start of the end and now. How even the stretch of years into the new world didn't dull the memories, not completely.
"The summer before junior year of college. I wanted to bring my car to campus, but my parents were not about to let me drive from Atlanta to D.C. on my own. So my roommate, who had already made it to campus, flew out to Atlanta, just to take the ride with me back to Howard." There was a faint tremble in her voice, but she simply cleared her throat, full lips tugging into a small grin. "We had CDs, snacks, and at least five disposable cameras. It was a good trip."
"Sounds like it." Instinctively, Rick reached out, his thumb caressing the apple of her cheek and distantly, he smiled when she leaned ever so slightly into his touch. They were quiet as one song faded out, savoring the brief silence that lingered in the gap. The twanging opening notes from the newest song kicked in, and Rick jolted a little at its familiarity. "Damn, now this takes me back."
Michonne glanced over, watching as he nodded along, completely amused at the sight. "Finally can say you know something I don't, huh?"
"Chonne, it's Bob Seger." He slapped out a little beat on his thigh, while humming the opening lines.
"Whatever you say, baby." Though she was pleasantly surprised when he started singing. He wouldn't be performing to sold-out crowds anytime soon, but he held his own, his usual rumbling drawl going a bit rougher, unpolished but pretty enjoyable.
"She was a black-haired beauty with big dark eyes," Rick sang to his very own dark-haired lady, curling his hand around Michonne's thigh as she laughed out loud. "Workin' on our night moves…"
"Bringing back some memories?" she teased, letting her hand drop to rest atop his. He took both back, linking their fingers and settling them on the console.
"Good ones, yeah." And some, that rang bittersweet. Given her earlier tale about her college roommate, the one he was sure was the same from her unfortunate story regarding her strange scar, he had a feeling she understood. There weren't many of those good memories from his younger years that didn't include his former best friend. Rick gave her fingers a gentle squeeze. "Doesn't compare to this, with you. Makin' new memories of our own."
The softness of his reassuring touch was reflected in the tender look in her dark eyes as she held his gaze, and she kissed his hand, then turned her focus back to the road. "Very smooth, cowboy."
He chuckled at that, her hand nestled in his, while he nodded along to the music, the brightly colored pickup cruising down the highway, the late afternoon sun racing alongside them.
AN: Songs mentioned: Lauryn Hill feat. D'Angelo 'Nothing Even Matters'. | Bob Seger 'Night Moves'