"Ready to be wowed?"
Michonne looked up from her seat to see Rick coming out of the elevator. He'd changed clothes, wearing a clean black sweater and dark blue jeans. She was glad she hadn't dressed down.
"Will I be wowed?" she asked doubtfully, putting away her phone and standing up.
"Don't be such a snob, city girl," he winked at her and gestured with his chin to the double doors indicating where they should move. "There's enjoyment to be had anywhere in the world."
"You'd know…" she mumbled as she followed him.
"What was that?" he chuckled.
"Nothing!" she shrugged, digging her car keys out of her jacket. "But we're driving, right?"
"Sure…" he shook his head laughing. "It will be a short ride though."
When they got into the car and Michonne was under the full effect of 'celebrity' sitting next to her, she was forced to acknowledge the man, even in hiding, smelled good. She shook it off and shuddered as she switched on the engine. No torches may be in the vicinity, but damn it, she was still a woman, and mother nature was still a bitch.
"So where to?" She asked with her eyes directed forward.
"Just drive along the beach that way," Rick pointed.
Nodding, Michonne put the car in motion, the gears in her head immediately going round and round as she worked through her questions. For a while, there was a comfortable silence, and Michonne suppressed all her jokes about how there was nothing to see but the ocean and empty roads.
"So… Concorde, huh?" Not her most brilliant opener, "How did you find this place?"
"I shot on location not far from here a few years ago," Rick replied easily. "About an hour-long drive."
"Interesting…" Michonne nodded, still keeping her eyes on the road.
"And your family and agent couldn't know you were here because…?"
"You can park right there…" Rick interrupted pointing at the beachfront kiosk that appeared in front of them.
Welcome to the Concorde Crab-Shack
Michonne snorted. "Fancy name."
"Everything here has Concorde in the name Michonne, don't judge."
They looked at each other inside the car, smirking.
"How quaint."
"Snob."
There were more tables, and more people, than Michonne had expected. But as Rick directed Michonne, zigzagging through the other patrons on their way to a table with a better view of the beach, she realized something curious - every single person there, staff included, was over the age of sixty.
"I feel like I'm at Bingo night with my Ma at church…" Michonne mumbled as Rick pulled a chair back for her.
Rick chuckled behind her as he tucked her in and then walked across the table to sit, facing her, his trademark grin wide and bright. Before anything else could be said an older lady shuffled close, carrying a tray with two tall, icy-looking glasses of beer and served them, smiling brightly at Rick.
"The usual, Mr. G?"
"Hi, Tammy. Yes, but double. Meet my friend Michonne," Rick nodded across the table at her.
Tammy turned then, peering at Michonne over the rim of her glasses. "Welcome to Concorde, dear! Are you allergic to anything?"
"Hi, Tammy! Nope, not allergic to anything."
Tammy nodded sweetly and shuffled away. Michonne watched her, looking over her shoulder, and slowly took another peek at the other patrons. It looked like a retirement community. She counted only ten people, outside of staff, but they were all definitely elderly. When she turned back around, Rick was watching her with a knowing smirk.
"Cheers!" he raised his beer at her and took a sip.
Michonne smiled and took a sip from her glass - it was a good beer, ice-cold - but even with the chill in the air, it didn't bother her. She was quiet for a moment, eyes roaming about as she took more tiny sips from her beer. Rick watched her curiously.
"Say what you're thinking, Miss Taylor."
Michonne waited until Rick took the glass to his lips. "I get it now. It's not a midlife crisis. You're prematurely retiring."
The result was immediate and Rick's spit take was glorious, causing Michonne to lean back on her chair and laugh deep, with her whole body, while he joined her, leaning forward for a napkin, which he dabbed at his chin with.
"I guess you got me," he laughed.
Michonne sipped from her own beer, watching him clean his mess, shaking his head, still laughing.
"I'm surprised."
"Why?" Rick returned, slowly crumpling the wad of napkins he'd used into a ball. "I feel like I've accomplished plenty at the ripe old age of forty-five."
Michonne made a face, tilting her head to the side. "I don't know…" she started while he narrowed his eyes at her. "I expected more from you."
"Like what?"
"Like… as a Hollywood star of your quality, at this point, I'd expected you to be one half of a power couple with one of those combined names people love so much."
Rick shook his head and threw the wet ball of napkins, hitting her squarely on the nose, causing her to jump back in her seat in clangs of laughter while he laughed along with her, shoulders shaking.
"Drink your beer," he grumbled at her as he reached for his own glass.
Michonne obeyed, watching him quietly, admiring his neck and strong jaw as he swallowed, her eyes narrowed and she sighed involuntarily. He was always pretty to look at. The scruff on his face really worked well for him.
"So, what's the story with this town?" she couldn't help but ask.
Rick shrugged. "It's… what you called it…Bingo Night…church..." he grinned. "It's a place people come to retire…"
"I see… and you felt right at home?" she arched an eyebrow.
Rick crumpled another napkin into a ball just to throw it at her. Michonne dodged this time as she laughed. Two elderly men at the nearest table stared at them and shook their heads disapprovingly before turning to their meals.
Michonne snapped her eyes back at Rick and both burst into laughter again. It seemed like here they were young enough to be frowned upon - it felt good.
"You tell me why I'm here, Special, Agent Taylor," Rick prodded, leaning back against his chair in a relaxing pose, crossing one leg over the other, folding his hands on his lap as he waited.
Michonne relaxed against her chair as well as she pondered that for a moment. He seemed fine, he didn't seem to be in any sort of emotional stress - she'd never seen him so relaxed, or so at ease. He hadn't been photographed in over three months.
"Privacy?" she suggested.
"Mmmm…" Rick looked around slowly, nodding. "There's plenty of that here."
"So… you're not a closet Scientologist, right?" She deadpanned.
Rick laughed, not bothering with crumpled napkins anymore. "I was wondering how long it'd be before the rehab rumors started but Scientology…" he considered with a sigh. "That could be interesting for my fans."
Michonne laughed nodding. "So, you're OK, right?" she asked seriously. "You're not… dying or anything that devastating?"
Rick laughed. "My sister really got to you."
"I just need to cover all my bases with her."
"That you do." Rick sighed.
Tammy returned with a plate full of fried shrimp, fried crab legs, with a side of french fries and hushpuppies - she smiled and wished them Bon Appetit, offering a beer refill before shuffling away.
"Sasha also voiced concern…" Michonne started when Ruby was out of earshot. "...what with you not picking up any new projects yet."
Rick nodded. "Understandable. I did say I wanted a break, but I never meant it before when I said it."
"And now you do?" Michonne prodded, even though this was getting more personal than her mission warranted.
"I do…" Rick leaned forward with his arms folded on the table - he took a moment to choose a fried shrimp, stuck it on his fork, and offered it to her with arched eyebrows. "Now try this."
Michonne blinked at the shrimp all up in her face and couldn't help but flush when she bit into it - being fed was a bit too intimate - not something they'd done before together.
Of course, shrimp was probably one of the least sexy foods in the world so maybe it canceled that out. She couldn't help but laugh as she pondered this, trying not to gag on her mouthful. Rick arched an eyebrow curiously, his lips curling just a bit.
"What's so funny?" Rick tossed a shrimp into his mouth.
Michonne chewed, taking her time. "You have a boat; you're trying to sell me on the fried shrimp… maybe you're opening a restaurant?"
Rick shook his head but he was smiling. "You're having too much fun speculating about my life, Michonne."
Michonne shrugged unapologetically. "I have a legitimate excuse."
"I'm just on a prolonged vacation, enjoying a place where no one's seen my movies or care that I've been in one. You and I are the only guests in the town's only hotel - so you can see why I'm here."
Michonne narrowed her eyes, studying him. "But you've been here for three months?"
Rick nodded and remained silent.
"Doing what?" she continued, she couldn't help herself.
Rick shrugged. "I took up sailing."
Michonne snorted. "Of course, you did."
Rick smiled. "I'm allowed a crisis, Michonne. I am a middle-aged man."
"So am I!" Michonne shrugged. "Well… woman."
Rick grinned. "Well then… have a crisis with me."
Michonne tilted her head to the side. "Meaning what?"
"Meaning, since you're here… enjoy your fried shrimp and stop worrying about me. If you're good, tomorrow I'll take you on my sailboat."
"Tomorrow?" Michonne made a face.
"If you're going to drop Maggie and Sasha on me, the least you can do is keep me company - play referee for a while."
"Who are you more afraid of?"
"Maggie," Rick said without needing a moment to think. "I can't fire my sister."
They talked more while they ate. The usual subjects of their families, mutual friends, and the old neighborhood. Michonne noticed Rick was happy to steer the subject away from himself, Curious as she was, she didn't want to pry anymore. Tomorrow she'd call Maggie, put her on the phone with her brother and let them talk it out.
After dinner, Rick talked her into taking a walk along the oceanfront. Even in the dark, they saw a few houses and small buildings nestled into the mountainside. They walked by several residents, all who smiled and nodded at them, either having no clue who Rick was, or not caring. Michonne could understand the appeal. Though she was never around Rick in very public spaces, she knew how much the paparazzi loved him and how freely his fans approached him or filmed him and photographed him with their smartphones.
They'd been walking along for twenty minutes when there was a lull in the conversation and Michonne focused on the sounds of the waves crashing. She couldn't remember the last time she had been at the beach, but the sound had always been one of her favorites. She felt a twinge of jealousy, thinking of Rick being able to just sit idle for three months, without even making a dent in his bank account.
When Rick suddenly stopped walking next to her, Michonne paused and turned to watch him inquisitively. He had his hands in his pockets and he nodded at somewhere behind her. Michonne turned to notice the lighthouse in the distance, bright like a ball of fire. She could also see the lights of distant sailing ships in the fog.
"Wow… creepy."
Rick chuckled. "Locals claim it's haunted."
"Of course, they do!" Michonne eyed him knowingly. "What about the hotel?"
Rick narrowed his eyes at her, smiling. "Why? Still afraid of the dark?"
Michonne blinked at him, surprised. "What are you talking about?"
"Halloween movie marathon. Junior year of High School? You squeezed my hand so tight I think you cut circulation a bit." He flexed his left hand dramatically.
"You remember that?" Michonne's voice came out faintly.
"Yep!" He smiled one of those nostalgic smiles, nodding his head, his eyes in the distance. "You were so scared it was adorable."
If she had to put a pin on an immediate emotion, it would have to be: embarrassment. Not because it embarrassed her to think of herself being scared of horror movies at sixteen, but because she had just been faking it, the whole time.
Turning away with the excuse to stare at the lighthouse again, Michonne cringed for her past-self a little bit. It was ironic he remembered that night of all nights. It had been that same night Michonne started letting go of the boy-next-door for good.
Rick's squeeze of the day had been Jessica Anderson and though they hadn't been openly dating, it was known throughout school they'd been caught making out a number of times. It was the reason Jessie couldn't go to the Halloween movie marathon Rick's parents set up for the neighborhood kids that year. She'd been grounded for getting suspended over skipping class to go do God knows what with Rick. So, when it came the time to fix who would sit next to who in the Grimes' home theater, Michonne ended up sitting at Rick's left. Now Michonne had never scared easy, but when the lights went off and Rick leaned over with that smirk of his and whispered he'd protect her if she got scared, topping it off with a flirty wink, Michonne had done the worst thing she could have done: She'd taken him at his word. All through the three movies she flinched and threw her palms over her eyes and squeaked, and leaned over towards him like a complete idiot. And Rick ate the whole thing up - the fool. Before long he was offering her his hand while chuckling, telling her she could squeeze it if it helped.
When the fourth movie started, someone sat behind them making a big fuss, causing them both to look over their shoulders. It was Jessie, sliding her jacket down her arms and giggling mischievously at the both of them.
"Whoa -How the hell did you get here?" Rick practically did a 360° turn in his seat, gaping at her.
"I snuck out, duh!" Jessie winked at him flirtingly.
"You're nuts!" Rick laughed while clearly admiring her courage.
It had been like a bucket of cold water. Michonne had wanted to vomit, ashamed of herself for having acted like a total idiot for no good reason. She had been about to stand up and offer her seat to Jessie but Rick vaulted over his chair instead and the two of them left the theater room together, laughing.
It had been a lesson well learned though. After that embarrassment, Michonne started to put her daydreams of Rick to rest. Never in a million years would she have thought he'd remember that circus she put up for him.
"I grew out of it, I promise," she joked. "You have to admit it though. It's a complete waste if that hotel isn't haunted!"
Rick laughed, catching up to her on the sidewalk. They walked and talked some more before heading back to the restaurant and to her car. They said goodnight at the hotel and she headed to her room.
Because of her afternoon nap, it took a while for Michonne to fall asleep. She stared at the ceiling, listening to the unfamiliar noises of the building and the night, the waves crashing in the distance. She thought through her next steps and her heart skipped a beat and squeezed a little when she contemplated going back home. Her lungs suddenly felt constricted, her skin felt hot and cold at once and perspiration gathered on her forehead, back of her neck and collar. It wasn't until she'd turned on the TV and found something noisy to drown her thoughts that she was able to finally sleep.