Lucille waited in the dark car in silence. A nervous anticipation filled the air as several of its other occupants sat in silence, waiting for an indication that they were not alone on the road. Their anxiety contagious, Lucille sat rigid.
Everybody in the group had been someone else before the Turn, but past lives were rarely discussed. From their frequent clamoring in tense situations, it could be surmised that few of them held emphatic leadership roles. For her own part before the Turn, Lucille could be frequently found at a small baseball park, though the calls and cheers of little leaguers (often seemingly made of sterner stuff than some of the men in this vehicle) were now far behind her.
But she was steadied by the cool hand of Negan. Back then, she'd been discarded. Left to rot among the dead. For all his flaws, Negan had been the one to rescue her after the Turn. Now he kept her safe, and she'd help do the same for him. Their relationship - usually platonic - was a topic of quiet awe among those under his protection. He'd used his influence seized in this apocalypse to take on many wives, but he would also choose her suitors. Her partner. Protector. Sometimes Matchmaker.
BLAM! An audible signal rang out, indicating that the people they were looking for had been found. The vehicle sprang to life in its direction. VROOM! The powerful motor sent vibrations along her core. The other occupants took no note – their minds on the upcoming encounter - but Negan felt her tremble.
At last they reached the newcomers. Everyone in the group was talking about these Alexandrians. These were the people who'd caused so much trouble in recent weeks. Their leader, a bearded man in a brown jacket, was not unlike some of the men Lucille had… been with before. On occasions such as this, when a group of newcomers like the ones before them this evening refused terms or made things difficult for their group, Negan would bring Lucille to make an appearance. An effective ambassador, she was Negan's not-so-secret weapon.
But as Negan spoke, it became apparent that neither this group's leader nor his son, a severe-looking boy with a cowboy hat dipped to partially conceal the bandage over a missing eye, were to be the target of her overtures this evening. It was just as well; she'd never been used in that way with someone so young - had never even been around someone so young since before the Turn.
One by one, Negan regarded each of the group, but couldn't seem to decide. Finally resorting to a game of "Eeny, Meeny, Miny, Moe," he pointed her in the direction of a young man who would soon be the object of her attention for the night. The wide-eyed lad's gaze locked onto her as she came around to face him while Negan pronounced, "and you… are… it."
The young man looked up at Negan, pleading. His wife begged on behalf of her husband and their child, but to no avail. As Negan's men brought him forward, he caught view of Lucille once again. Still pleading, he looked downward averting his eyes from the curve of her body.
Lucille came down upon the young man. Again. Again. Like she had with so many men before. She would not be denied – no man could resist her. Yet, as their encounter approached its climax, it was not her name, but the name of his wife, which he would cry out. Lucille said nothing. It wouldn't be much longer now. Despite the name still on his lips, it would be Lucille with whom he'd spend the rest of his life.