Life as one of Negan's lieutenants was fucking boring.

Scavenging runs weren't scheduled a lot, with the Hilltop and Kingdom providing you with supplies and patrol duty rotated between the six of you. You weren't allowed to help out in construction, the kitchen, or the gardens, because others needed the points. You had read every book and played every board and card game until it became as boring as staring at the Sanctuary's grey walls. You had even taken up knitting for a short time, which had resulted in a very crooked scarf that Negan had insisted had looked a lot like a wooly penis.

So when you had found the little figurines in a long dead boy's bedroom on one of your runs, you had been thrilled. Remembering hours of another life in your ex-boyfriend's basement, you packed up the miniatures, the dices, codices and rule books in a cardboard box and brought them home to the Sanctuary. Your boss was less than thrilled, of course, asking you why these "alien figurines are taking up space in the fucking truck".

"It's called Warhammer 40K. It's a game. You build an army out of these figurines and then you fight against each oth…"

Negan interrupted your explanation with his biggest, fakest yawn. "That's the most boring fucking shit that has ever come out of your pretty mouth."

You glowered at him, a little hurt by his lack of interest. "Well, can I at least keep this boring shit, or do I have to give it up to commissary?"

You knew he would let you keep it. You might have declined his repeated proposals of becoming a wife, but that didn't mean you didn't enjoy the occasional benefits that came with your boss having a raging hard-on for you.

"Pffft… I don't give a fuck. Keep it. I doubt anyone besides you would want this nerdy crap, anyway."

And so you had kept it. You set up a small workshop in a corner of the rec room, asked construction for a wooden board, paint, glue and tools and you went out into the woods to find sticks, rocks, moss and other materials to build your terrain table. Not only did your little project keep you busy, it also attracted some of your fellow lieutenants to help you and play the occasional campaign together, much to Negan's displeasure, since you were A) proving him wrong and B) giving him a lot less attention than he was used to.

Connor had happily exclaimed "You found a fucking 40K set? Fuck yeah! I used to play Chaos Marines. Blood for the Blood God!", and he was a challenging, but enthusiastic opponent on the miniature battlefield.

Dwight turned out to be exceptionally talented when it came to building and painting the terrain. While you were struggling with building the dilapidated ruin of a house out of cardboard, he constructed little trees, roads, a bridge and even a small fountain, complete with water effects made out of dried glue and a plastic bag.

The only thing dampening your happiness over your new-found hobby was the running commentary coming from the direction of a very bored and very obnoxious Savior's leader. Negan did not miss an opportunity to declare this game "fucking lame" and you and your fellow players "fucking nerds", until one day you had enough and told him you would shove one of the Tyranid Broodlords up his ass if he didn't stop. He was quick to interpret your outburst as some "kinky fuckery", but he got the message that his criticism wasn't welcome and turned to silently observing you playing.

Apparently, Negan didn't appreciate you threatening him with anal punishment, which was probably the reason that you found yourself on the dreaded nightshift patrolling the Sanctuary the next day.

You had just turned around what seemed to be the five hundred and forty-fourth corner, when you stopped in your tracks. There were sounds coming out of the rec room, which was unusual, since you were absolutely sure that you had locked the door after the last person had left for the night. You gripped your flashlight tighter and unsheathed the knife on your belt just in case and slowly sneaked up to the rec room door, which stood slightly ajar. You couldn't decide what you preferred to find in there. Something dead, or a fellow lieutenant who had chosen the rec room for a little nighttime ping pong of some kind.

Since you were expecting to find something either deadly, or highly awkward, you were more than a little shocked when you heard a familiar voice mumbling what sounded suspiciously like "Blood for the Blood God!"

You opened the door, only to find the big bad leader of the Saviors hunched over your Warhammer 40K table, a Chaos Sorcerer in one hand and a rule book in the other.

"What the fuck Negan?"

He spun around and looked at you like a teenage boy that had been caught in his parents' porn collection.

"Uuuuhh… hi there. I was just messing around with your miniatures a little. I promise I'll put them back later."

You raised one eyebrow at him. "You're messing around with the fucking lame game for fucking lame nerds?"

"Well, I figured, since you like it that fucking much, I might as well learn how to play. You know… so you don't have to play with Stupid and Boring all the time."

You couldn't help but smile at his confession. "Alright then. I took you for a Chaos guy. Tell me what you've learned so far!"

You talked and practiced until morning and Negan took to the game's strategic nature like a fish to water. The next night in the rec room, you couldn't decide what you were happier about: Dwight's jaw nearly hitting the floor when Negan obliterated Connor's army, or the soft kiss goodbye your leader had sneakily placed on your cheek after your first night playing Warhammer 40K together.