Disclaimer: I do not own any part of The Walking Dead, the TV show or the comic. All characters and story history, with exception of random Alexandrians belong to Robert Kirkman and the sometimes brilliant Scott Gimple.

Summary: Tumblr Richonne Summer Prompt - This story takes place in an AU. It explores what happens when Michonne and Rick meet for the first time one summer afternoon in King County, Georgia.

Author's Note: I do enjoy feedback, but as always, I request that you be gentle.

Chapter One

Michonne barely listened as Mike rambled on about his travel to Pennsylvania, the drama at the airport, which he deemed as over the top security checks and his arrival at his parent's home in an affluent suburb of Philadelphia. The Independence Day holiday was that weekend and the plan was for them to spend the holiday with his family. Being as she had traveled to Orlando and wouldn't return to Atlanta until that evening, Mike had decided to go ahead and make the trip alone so that he could be there to celebrate his father's birthday that evening. Michonne would fly to Philadelphia the following morning and be there the entire weekend to celebrate, not only the holiday, but their big announcement - their plans to marry. Michonne glanced at her left hand that gripped the wheel and was adorned with a beautiful Tiffany engagement ring. Mike had proposed about a month earlier, when they'd taken a trip down to the Gulf Coast for a weekend getaway. She'd not been completely surprised. For they'd been talking about making things official for a while. They'd after all been dating for 4 years and living together for two. They were doing everything married people do, so why not go ahead and commit completely.

Michonne had immediately said yes. In the moment, she meant it, and she was happy, but after the moment passed she'd began to have doubts, feeling this deep sense of foreboding, like this was not supposed to be life, her future. It was scary, yet ridiculous. For she and Mike were practically married already and, she loved him, and he loved her. They were a good pair. So why wouldn't marrying him be the right choice? Though the feeling had eventually abated, it was still there, right beneath the surface, nagging at her conscious, making her question everything. Thus, instead of staying in town and joining Mike on the flight to Philadelphia, she'd gone to an art show in Orlando. She didn't expect to find any pieces there worth buying, but needed the time and solitude the drive would provide to think, to work through any lingering reservations she might be having. For that weekend they would be announcing the news to his family and would most certainly set a date and began the planning. She didn't want to make such a commitment to Mike and their families without being certain that this choice was exactly what she wanted.

Michonne continued her drive, now listening as Mike's ramblings moved on to his excitement over their planned announcement, when her car suddenly started to shake and the dashboard issued an engine warning. She quickly looked at the temperature gage and saw that the car was running hotter than normal, when the engine began to struggle, no longer able to handle the speed of the freeway and smoke began billowing from beneath the hood.

"Shit!" Michonne exclaimed, interrupting Mike's speculation about his mom's reaction to their news. He immediately asked what happened and she'd responded that her car was giving her trouble and that she was pulling off at the next exit – the town of Palmer in King County. She managed to drive the car off the freeway, down the exit ramp and on to a four lane highway that appeared to be in the middle of nowhere, then pulled into the grass and out the way of traffic. Mike again asked if she was okay, if she was safe, which she'd answered that she was as she got out of the car and checked under the hood. It was definitely running hot, but it was something else too. She'd told Mike, returning to sit inside of her car, which now wouldn't start at all. She was going to need roadside assistance. She'd deduced, but where would she get towed she wondered, considering there was nothing but open road and fields as far as the eye could see?

Michonne kept Mike on the line while she accessed her auto insurance app and submitted a request for roadside assistance. Within seconds she received a brief call from the agency confirming that she was okay and vowing to send help, followed by a text that provided details on the name and contact information for the tow company and their estimated time of arrival. Just as she breathed a small sigh of relief and managed to calm Mike's worry somewhat, flashing blue lights appeared in her rearview mirror, then stopped behind her.

"Shit!" Michonne exclaimed to which Mike again worriedly asked what was wrong.

A cop just pulled up behind me. She'd replied with a hint of anxiety. Mike had responded with his own expletive and directed her not to hang up the phone, and she'd she assured him that she wouldn't. Michonne then removed her ID and registration from her purse, then nervously watched as a deputy got out of his cruiser and slowly made his way towards her car with his hand on his weapon. Suddenly she became keenly aware of her situation. She was an African-American woman in a very small town in the rural south and would soon be at the mercy of the white police officer that was approaching her now disabled car. The situation seemed to have disaster written all over it, which made her wish she'd skipped the art show in Florida.

Reaching her car, the officer walked along the driver's side, seeming to take his time, before finally making it to her open window that was now down, allowing in the sweltering heat. Michonne turned her eyes to the window and prepared for what she knew would be a hostile stance from the officer, but instead she found the unexpected. Eyes, that were a sea of the warmest blue, touching something deep within her, dispelling her nervous fear, making her feel at ease. She held his intense stare as her breath helpless quickened in pace with her heart, that strangely thundered with tenderness and affinity, mirroring the emotions that were emanating from his eyes. Michonne forced herself to look away to retrieve her credentials from the console were they now lay, while trying in vain to understand the storm of emotions that had been awakened within her. Returning her gaze to his, she was again shaken by his gentle intensity, then silently handed him her credentials. The officer took her papers in hand, holding her eyes for a beat longer than he should've, igniting a heat between them, before he dropped his gaze to review what she'd given him.

"Is everything alright?" He finally uttered, his tone uneven, yet kind, his eyes still down.

"Yes." Michonne awkwardly replied to the Officer, whose name tag she now noticed said R. Grimes. "As you can see I'm having car trouble."

"It's running hot?" He asked, briefly looking towards the hood.

"That and some…something else." Michonne struggled with her response, when his gaze again caught hers, making her feel fervid and vulnerable inside.

"Do you have roadside assistance?"

"I do. They should be here any minute."

"Alright. Give me a minute to check these." He quietly stated as he held up her credentials. "Then I'll…leave you to it." He added as his eyes, ardent and enthralled, remained bound to hers, before he slowly turned and walked away. Michonne released a breath she didn't know she was holding and her mind again began to race with confusion and wonder. What the hell was wrong with her? She posed to herself. Knowing precisely the answer, but found it made little sense, when her musings were disrupted by Mike's urgent voice in her ear, asking what was going on. She gave him an overview of all that had transpired which she was sure he'd overheard while she had him on hold. He'd then proceeded to ask more questions. What was the cop doing? Did she feel safe? How long before the tow would be there? Which she'd distractedly answered as she waited for Officer Grimes to return, while her mind and heart still struggled with what she felt for this man who was a stranger and should mean nothing to her. Several minutes later he made his way back to her car, and with his return came a nervous excitement that hadn't quite abated with his absence.

"You're a long way from home Miss Mitchell. Where're you headed?" He asked as he handed back her license and registration.

"Home." She replied, now putting her credentials away.

"How long before the roadside assistance arrives?" He asked just as the tow truck pulled up. Michonne immediately exited her car to greet the driver and saw that the Officer was already conversing with the older man, who he obviously knew, before the man made his way over to her, introduced himself as Rob and asked where she wanted her car towed.

"I don't know. I'm not from around here. Is there an auto shop nearby?" She'd asked.

"Dixon's Auto Shop is the closest, anything else is 10-15 miles away." Rick answered. It's about four miles down the road. He said, pointing east, but Rob had countered that the shop was likely closed at this hour. I can help with that. Rick had then said, returning his eyes to hers. Michonne had decided to go with the officer's suggestion, who she couldn't help but trust implicitly, not because he was police, but because of a strong instinct within her that said he was being truthful. The tow truck driver had her car mounted on the truck and at the auto shop within twenty minutes where the owner, Darryl Dixon, met them upon arrival. Michonne had thought that the strings the Officer pulled in getting Mr. Dixon to return to the shop to receive her car, would include the man taking a look under its hood immediately, but unfortunately for her the man had a previous engagement that couldn't be broken and thus wouldn't be looking at her car until the following morning.

Michonne had taken the news better than Mike, who'd been furious about the delay. He wanted her to have her car towed to another shop, where it could be looked at ASAP. She'd reminded him that the next nearest shop was 15 miles away and was likely closed being as it going on 7pm. She'd have to stay the night in Palmer, but it'd just be for one night. She'd told him. She'd move her flight to Philadelphia to Saturday evening. Mike had been beside himself with frustration, but Michonne had managed to calm him down before ending their call. She wasn't exactly happy with having to wait for service, and thus spend the night in a small town in rural Georgia, but a part of her was relieved to have more time to figure out if she wanted to end their engagement or plan their wedding.

"I can take you to a hotel." Rick offered, after she'd removed her bags from the trunk of her car.

"That won't be necessary."

"Miss. Mitchell we don't have Uber out here, and the one taxi we have only runs on Saturday nights."

"I can walk."

"The hotels are about a mile and half walk in downtown Palmer. That might be an okay walk if you didn't have a bag and there were sidewalks, but that's not the case. Now if you insist on walking I can't stop you. But really it's no trouble for me to take you." Michonne contemplated what he'd said as well as the way she was senselessly drawn to this man whom she should not be entertaining in the way at all, but he did have a point. It wouldn't make sense for her to try and walk to the hotel dragging her bag behind her in this heat, on a road with no sidewalks. It was just a ride. She'd concluded. What could possibly happen in such a short time?

The ride started slow, and quiet. The mood in the car raging with emotion. Giddiness filled the air, and excitement at being so close to one another, anticipation for what they could learn about the other, and a smoldering warmth, feeding the extraordinary pull between them.

"You said you were driving back home, where were you traveling from?" Rick suddenly asked, after endlessly debating what to say, weather or personal, he'd very briefly tossed around before settling on what he really wanted, which was to know more about her.

"Orlando. I'd gone down for an art show." Michonne answered as casually as she could, even as the simple question further stirred her heart.

"You're an artist?" Rick asked as he looked her way thinking 'beautiful and creative,' then quickly returned his eyes to the road and attempted to force the thought away.

"I do some painting. But I mostly collect."

"What do you paint? When you paint."

"Flowers. Some landscapes."

"Really? I'd love to see it." He honestly stated, then again turned his gaze to her, just as he stopped at the light that had gone red.

"You're into art?" Michonne asked with surprise, meeting his eyes, which were a mesmerizing blue capturing her completely.

"Not really." Rick awkwardly answered after being shaken from the moment, the intense connection he felt to her, by a motorist behind them honking their horn notifying him of the light that had gone green. "It'd be cool to see art come to life, the paint hitting the canvas."

"You want to watch me paint?" Michonne quietly questioned with skepticism.

"Why not? Like I said, it'd be interesting to see an artist make art." He said, briefly glancing her way.

"Well you'd have to come to Atlanta to see that. So I doubt you'll ever get that experience with me." She countered.

"You never know. Things are changing all the time." He uttered as their gazes met again, heated and impassioned before breaking their stare to sweep the landscape of downtown Palmer. "So, the Marriott or Hilton?" He asked after drawing a deep breath, trying hard to quell his unreasonable tenderness for this woman beside him.

"Marriott." She answered as she did the same, relieved but in the same breath disappointed that they'd arrived at her destination. Rick pulled into the roundabout driveway at the Courtyard Marriott that sat on the corner of Main Street in the quaint town that was beautified with flowers, greenery and a host of restaurants and small shops about the town city center. Rick stopped the car in front of the entry doors and he and Michonne immediately exited the car, saying not a word to one another and met at the trunk. Rick opened the trunk and retrieved her bag, positioning it upright with the pulley handle up which she'd then taken in hand.

"Thank you, Officer Grimes, for everything." Michonne then stated.

"Rick." He corrected as he extended his hand. "You can call me Rick." She acknowledged his correction with a slight nod and a smile.

"Michonne." She softly declared, officially introducing herself, before she grasped his hand. Instantly, they felt a charge ignite, fiery and powerful, rushing through them. For a split second Michonne felt woozy and flushed, while Rick became unsteady on his feet, feeling as if his legs would buckle beneath him. They stood for what seemed like longer than mere minutes, their hands clasped, their eyes locked, their breathes fast as their hearts flooded with deep, tender emotion. When reality penetrated their senses - a car driving up, a screaming child in the parking lot, reminding them of where they were, and who they were. Michonne swiftly pulled her hand from Rick's, and fleetingly gave him her eyes, before she hurried away. Rick intently watched her leave, his gaze amorous and enthralled, wanting to stop her, but instead he remained were he stood, feverish and shaken, while he looked on as she disappeared into the hotel.