The sigh that escaped Rick was long and full of mild annoyance. He sat in his four-door pickup truck, tuning out some new artist on the radio, trying to devise a half-ass excuse for why he couldn't attend this class. Sundown was approaching thus it would be dark soon enough. He was running out of time and would eventually have to face the music.
"Damn you, Carl," he muttered, rubbing the scruff on his chin. He chuckled, thinking about his smart assed mini-me.
Rick's 13-year-old son was a sneaky one. Too damn smart for his own good. Rick should've known making a bet with his kid wouldn't flip in his favor.
"So if I get all A's all semester you're gonna do something fun this summer?"
The father laughed at the incredulous look on his son's round face. "Yep, matter of fact, I'll even let you pick what it is."
"And if I don't get all A's this semester?"
He thought about it for a moment before thinking of the perfect non-punishment punishment. "I'll sign you up for boy scouts."
Carl's jaw dropped and he gasped. "That's cruel, Dad."
"What's wrong with boy scouts? I was a boy scout. I loved it and I turned out just fine."
His son looked him up and down with bright blue eyes that matched his. "My point exactly. Boy scouts are for dorks. Patrick in my math class is one, proudly too."
Rick clutched his chest in jest. "Just for that, I won't make your favorite blueberry pancakes for two weeks," he huffed.
"Dad, you're such a big baby," Carl giggled and Rick snatched him up, tickling him furiously. "Stop! Stop! I'm sorry!" His father threw him on the couch laughing.
"Yeah, that's what I thought so you better make good grades for the rest of the year." He sat in the chair closest to his Christmas tree and dug his toes into the rug on the floor. He grabbed another gift under the tree labeled for Carl from Rick's parents and handed it to the teen. "So have you thought about what you'll have me doing if you win?"
"Nope. But I'm sure it'll come to me. All I know is you need some friends, Dad." Carl rolled his eyes and unwrapped the gift. It was a copy of The Three Musketeers by Alexandre Dumas.
"But…you're my best friend Carl?"
"And that has to be the saddest thing I've ever heard. You need some friends your own age. You can't be with me all the time– I do have a life y'know?" The shaggy-haired teen shook his head, flipping through the book causally.
"Ain't that some shit," Rick scoffed, one side of his mouth quirking slightly. He could only be amused by his son's bluntness.
It was true that outside of work as a sheriff for Atlanta Police Department, he spent most of his time with his son. They did just about everything together. It had been only them for so long with Carl's birth mother and Rick's ex-wife dying from cancer when Carl was a toddler. They had a rough few years in the beginning but now they had their lives together down to a science.
"Alright, I see your point. You're not gonna make me do anything stupid are ya?"
Carl's eyes gleamed with a mischievous luster. "Of course not."
Rick watched as people entered the building that had a big sign that said Messiah's Moves on it. This was going to be humiliating, he could feel it in his cowboy boots. Waltz lessons. Carl had decided that the best way for his dad to meet new people was to sign him up for dance classes. If he didn't love the little brat so much he might've roughed him up a little when he found out.
He remembered Carl's last day of seventh grade, and his son so eagerly awaited to show him his final report card of the year. The kid had this scary plotting grin on his face. He had indeed made all straight A's for the year, which meant that Rick had to fulfill his end of the bargain they made at Christmas.
The chortling laugh that Rick let out when his son had told him that he signed him up for waltz lessons downtown was absolutely heinous. He thought it was a joke until he was shown an email receipt for a six-week waltzing class.
It had only been a week since then and Rick still struggled with believing this would be his new reality. He told himself it was just six weeks, not even two months. It couldn't possibly be that painful and it wasn't like he was completely rhythmless. He would grin and bear it because he made his son a deal and he never went back on his word.
Ten minutes til 8 pm and Rick knew it was time to go inside. He sighed again before turning off his truck and stepping out onto the parking lot. He could handle two hours of this. He had dealt with worse, though what he considered worse evaded him momentarily, he knew it had happened.
He felt his phone vibrate in his back pocket so he looked and saw that it was a text from Carl.
"I win :)" It said.
Rick rolled his cobalt blue eyes and smirked, texting his son back. "Don't you have video games and pizza to–" He got cut off mid-text as he slammed into a hard body and dropped his phone.
"Oop, sorry about that–"
"No, it's my fault–"
They spoke at the same time and they both bent down to get his phone. Rick's large pale hand collided with this dark-skinned manicured hand and his eyes immediately wandered up to meet the owner.
His breath caught in his throat at the sight of probably the most beautiful woman he had ever seen in his entire 36 rotations around the sun. Her almond-shaped hickory eyes and her heart-shaped plump lips had Rick's brain stuttering. She smiled at him with her straight white teeth that nearly blinded him.
He grabbed his phone and tucked it in his pocket. They stood up straight and she was a tad shorter than him, with her head being able to fit under his chin. He fought the urge to openly check her out.
"I- I- my fault. I shouldn't've been texting and walking. Very dangerous these days," Rick chuckled as his face heated up.
The stranger giggled and the locs she had swept into a high ponytail swayed side to side. "It's okay, truly. I could've been paying more attention too. Busy brain and all that junk."
"I couldn't agree more." Rick felt like he would have agreed with anything she said at that moment.
Her eyes seemed to be searching his face but she just grinned. "Well sorry for bumping into you. Hopefully, your phone's not cracked or anything."
Rick didn't even bother to check as the thought of taking his eyes off this modelesque woman was none too appealing. "Don't worry about it." He waved dismissively. "I've put it through worse and it's come out with little to no scratches before."
She covered her giggle with her hand and he felt the urge to move it. She had a beautiful smile and what right did she have to deprive people of it?
"Oh shoot, I'm gonna be late for this class." She looked at her smartwatch, glaring at the time. It was a little after when the class started.
"The waltzing class?" She nodded. "Then that makes too of us. C'mon, let's go."
They headed toward the building – him with his bowlegged stride and her long-legged stalks.
"I'm Rick, by the way. Rick Grimes."
"Michonne Williams. Nice to meet you, Rick." There was that smile again. And, fuck, the way she said his name. He was in some trouble with this one.
He held the door open for her, allowing her to walk in first which gave him a glimpse of what she wore. She had on some tight high waisted jeans that hugged her bottom, and this long-sleeve v-neck burnt orange blouse gave the faintest glimpse of her cleavage. Her heeled brown knee-high boots clacked on the pine floor of the dance studio.
Rick mouthed her name silently to himself, trying to get a feel of it.
The class was set up with six chairs on side of the room and six on the other side. The instructor, they assumed, stood in the middle. He was a man of average height with long brown hair and neatly trimmed facial hair.
Michonne sent Rick a quick anxious smile then chose a chair on one side, and he did the same. He struggled to keep his gaze off of her. It was like his eyes were drawn to this woman he had just met in the parking lot.
The instructor cleared his throat and clapped his hands. "Great, now that we're all here. My name is Paul Rovia but my friends call me 'Jesus'." He opened his arms in a wide gesture. Half of the group gave him amused looks while the others outright laughed. "Welcome to waltzing 101. Now I'm sure most of you have never waltzed a day in your lives and that's just fine. I don't want anybody to feel inadequate because learning is a process and that's nothing to be ashamed of. Besides this is gonna be fun. No time to be nervous when you're having fun, right?"
The people agreed readily. The group was starting to warm up with Jesus' encouraging words.
With the continuation of Jesus' introduction speech, Rick began to tune him out. He instead chose to observe the other people in the class. They were a diverse group of people that was for sure. There were five men and seven women. He wondered what their circumstances were that lead them to be in this space together. His eyes observed every single one but his attention ricocheted back to Michonne.
He had no idea what was going on with him. This woman was a stranger to him but almost instantly he became enamored with her. He didn't want her to think he was a certified grade-A weirdo that liked to stare. This time when his eyes fell on her, she was looking at him but she didn't chase her eyes away.
Michonne playfully rolled her eyes, mouthing the words, "So boring," which elicited a silent chuckle from Rick.
"I know right," he mouthed back. Those pretty lips of hers stretched into a smile and the back of his neck flushed.
"–partners." Rick only caught the tail end of Jesus' last statement when he decided to tune back in.
"What about partners? I'm sorry," he interjected with a raise of his hand.
"Oh, I said, I want y'all to pair up because I mean, how else are you gonna waltz? I'll let you guys mingle and you can pick yourselves. Once you choose your partner, you need to come up to this table here and write your names down. So let's say, about 30 minutes from now, sound good?"
With that, Jesus took some steps back and tapped some icons on his phone to play music through the speakers of the dance studio.
The adults in the room hesitantly stood and moved in the middle of the room. Mingling was not Rick's forte, which was probably why his son was his only friend. As a sheriff, talking to people was his job but outside of the job? Rick was not a social butterfly; something his first wife definitely had a problem with.
He stood from his chair and combed his fingers through his thick short hair nervously. He got anxious all of sudden and it started to make sense why Carl wanted him to make new friends. Acting like this as a grown-ass man was embarrassing.
One man came up to him, he was a young Asian guy with innocent eyes. He shifted from one foot to the other. He held out his hand for Rick to shake. "Hey man, I'm Glenn. Your girl sign you up for these as well?"
"Rick. And no, just my jokester of a son who thinks I need friends my own age."
Glenn snorted, "Well that's definitely a first. My fiance Maggie over there–" He pointed to this brunette with a bob that was snickering with a light-skinned Latina. "She signed us up for these because she wants us to waltz at our wedding." He shook his head with an adoring smile.
"Anything to make the missus happy?"
"That's what I was told. It shouldn't be that damn hard, even though I'm pretty sure she was born with two left feet."
"Sounds like you got your work cut out for ya then? Hopefully, my partner isn't totally hopeless," Rick joked.
"Do you have your eye on somebody? There are some lookers in here for sure. Good thing Maggie is all mine so I have nothing to worry about," Glenn whistled.
Rick did in fact have his eyes on someone. And she stood there looking absolutely perfect, completely oblivious to the effect she had on him. He saw her throw her head back and laugh, the musical tinkle hardly reached his ears over the conversations and music.
Though in his overview of Michonne, he didn't fail to notice the other three men in the room eyeing her like prey. It was great he didn't have to worry about Glenn but he didn't know what he would do about the three other guys. He couldn't just go up to her and snatch her up like a caveman.
Glenn watched Rick watch Michonne and smirked. "Why don't you go ask her to be your partner? She's hot and I bet she would be a great partner."
Sighing, Rick turned his head to Glenn. "Yeah I bet but I think she might be a little out of my league."
"Dude you? I don't think you know what you look like. Tall cowboy with baby blues, broad shoulders, and a sultry southern accent. I'm surprised the women aren't falling over themselves to get to you. Even my Maggie mentioned how hot you were," Glenn sent him a scornful glare.
"Sorry," Rick laughed.
The younger man shook his head playfully. "It's cool, I guess. You should definitely talk to that one you've been eyeing this whole time you've been talking to me, though, before somebody else takes your spot."
Just as Rick started towards Michonne one of the guys, a tall bald black man with big arms, stepped in front of her. She smiled sweetly and nodded at what he said to her. Rick felt his heart drop and he sucked in a deep breath. He had waited too long.
Michonne patted the guy's shoulder and turned in Rick's direction. She smiled wide when she made eye contact with him. She saddled up in front of him and blew out a breath.
"What was that noise for?" He couldn't help asking, attempting to soothe the sting in his chest. He prayed the disappointment didn't show on his face.
"That guy was just spitting all types of game at me. All I could do was nod and smile. Sounded like he was reading a script or something," Michonne snorted with a hand over her mouth.
"Did he…Did he not ask to be your partner?" Hope bloomed in Rick, and his shoulders relaxed.
"Oh, he did. I just told him I already had one." She shrugged lazily.
Hope shriveled in his chest. What the fuck? Why were his emotions all over the place when it came to this woman? That shit had to be dangerous.
If she saw the defeat in Rick's eyes, she sure didn't show it.
"So…what do you say, partner?" She smiled secretly at him.
Rick's posture discreetly straightened as he beamed at Michonne. The bells and whistles went off in his head all at once while his chest felt like it expanded. Gazing into her shining eyes, he knew immediately, that he was fucked.
Whoa. Hey. Hello. First richonne fanfic. Haven't written fanfic in years so we'll see how this goes. I appreciate any and all feedback, my loves.