As the sun set on the horizon, the common area of the Sanctuary filled with people. Old, young, workers, and Saviors alike crowded in to hear what their leader had to say. The voices silenced as a tall man with hair the color of pitch, an easy grin, and a baseball bat covered with barbed wire stepped forward on the overlooking balcony. The crowd bent down on their knees to show reverence to the man known as Negan.
He spoke with authority, as if his high position was a God given right. "As you all fuckin' know, we have some business to attend to. One of our own is movin' up in the world, becomin' one of my most trusted, most relied upon soldiers. Not only is she a goddamn fighter, but she knows her shit, too. When she carries out my orders, which you know she fuckin' will, you better be ready to comply. You follow the rules, you might rise in this fucked up world like she has, you don't and I will not hesitate to iron your goddamn face or introduce you to Lucille. I don't wanna do it, but you know I will. Rules are rules and in this world we live in now, they must be followed."
The crowd nodded, acknowledging Negan's words as truth, law, and justice in a world embroiled in an apocalypse. He was their Savior, their provider, their leader. He was a guide for a few hundred individuals, leading them through after this world went to shit.
The woman standing next to Negan with her arms crossed, smirked, tilting her head to acknowledge his words. The woman of honor made no speech, no thanks to the crowd, for Negan had said enough. She stood there, looking out into the crowd, scanning the faces. She was an imposing sight at almost six foot, with her porcelain skin, hair so light it was almost white, and hard, stormy grey eyes. She saw no dissent in the eyes of the crowd, no one challenging Negan's decision. It was rare for a woman to rise so high in the ranks of a group of soldiers, even rarer still for a woman like her, a woman who had survived the years of the apocalypse without being able to hear a thing. She had proved herself worthy time and again; shown the remaining world how she fought, survived, and came out triumphant, even without sound. She was a force to be reckoned with and seemed to be made of steel. The only one more fearsome in the Sanctuary was Negan himself.
"As I've finished introducing you to Lucia as a lieutenant, you're free to go. Get back to whatever the fuck y'all are needin' to be doing," Negan's voice filling the large space. "We're done for now."
The crowd quickly dispersed, scattering in all directions. Some to the dining area, others back to work, but most headed towards the workers' sleeping area. Since the end of the world, things had slowed down significantly after dark. Most people these days rose and retired with the sun.
Negan turned to his group of lieutenants standing beside and behind him. "Well, boys, I do believe it's time for our poker night. Everything is buttoned down and everyone is in their place. Let's go back to my quarters, grab some drinks and play some goddamn poker. We should be celebratin', after all Lucia has joined our ranks. Luce, care to join our game?"
Lucia cocked her head forward slightly in agreement before gesturing for Negan to lead the way. He gave her a cocky smile, as if he knew she'd agree.
"Well then, let's get goin'," Negan said, turning on his heels and swinging the baseball bat, Lucille, onto his shoulder.
The lieutenants trailed behind, chattering amongst themselves. Lucia remained quiet, observing their route. As she had never been to this part of the Sanctuary before, she took in her surroundings. The staircase leading up to Negan's quarters was guarded by two men, heavily armed with guns and knives. They nodded at their leader, moving aside for him. The corridor was dimly lit, casting dancing shadows on the walls. She watched as Negan opened the door, ushering them inside.
Lucia looked around the room as she entered. It seemed to be a front room, of sorts, with some plush leather chairs surrounding a poker table. Where on earth Negan had found such a luxury, she had no idea, but it was nice to see something that was from the world as it used to be. This place was full of them. There were drapes on the windows, the expensive type that mansions had. Lucia could even see a fully stocked bar by the largest window. Negan had made this place a home, as much as one could when home was a large industrial building.
The lieutenants began to grab drinks from the bar and gather around the poker table, settling in. Lucia strolled to the bar, leisurely running her hands over her options. There was scotch, brandy, bourbon...the list was endless. Her hand finally settled over an almost full bottle of Patron tequila. Her poison of choice, it had been far too long since she had the chance to enjoy it. In a split second decision, she snatched the whole bottle and settled down at the poker table. Hell, if she was gonna drink, she was damn sure gonna enjoy it.
Negan was the last to sit down at the table, glass of scotch in hand, right across from Lucia. He took in the woman sitting across from him. To his surprise, she had grabbed an entire bottle of tequila, no glass in sight. He chuckled as she looked at him, raising an eyebrow in her direction. That girl was sure ballsy, and that was a goddamn fact.
"Well fuck, Luce, don't you fuckin' hold back there," Negan said with a cocky grin.
Lucia smirked as she uncapped the bottle, taking a swig while looking Negan straight in the eye. "You said we were celebrating, that's what I'm doing," she murmured.
The other lieutenants shifted nervously, unsure if they should be joining in. They never quite knew what temperment their boss would be in, whether he was serious or joking with them. The wrong word, a glance in the wrong direction, and his temper could turn on a dime. The last thing any of them wanted was their night of leisure and relaxation to turn sour.
Negan's smile grew, "You are goddamn fuckin' right, doll. To add to the celebration, that Patron in your hand is yours. Drink all, save it, bring it to your room for later, hell I don't give a shit. It's yours for the taking, you've goddamn earned it these past few years! Now, let's get to playin'. We play mainly for smokes these days, other things if you have 'em. Since it's your first time, I'll graciously give you somethin' to start out with. Build 'em game to game, lose 'em all in an instant, it's all about how you play, Luce. I am assuming you've actually played poker before, right?"
Lucia took another swig of the tequila, savoring the feeling as it burnt it's way down her throat. She looked up, widening her grey eyes, looking a bit more innocent. "I've played before, not since the shit hit the fan, but I can play."
Negan pounded the table with his fist, "Alright, let's get playin' then! Arat, if you don't mind, deal us in for Texas holdem," he motioned to the woman on his left with short, curly hair.
"You got it, Boss," she muttered as she passed each player their cards.
Hours went by, it was deep into the night, and yet they were still playing. Arat and Dwight, a blonde haired man with a nasty looking scar covering half his face, were out of cigarettes and were leaning back, enjoying their respective drinks. The only ones left in the game were Simon, who was Negan's right hand man, Lucia, and Negan himself. It was the last round of betting, the stakes were high. Lucia watched both men throughout the game intently, watching for their tells and body language. Simon was an easy read for her. He may be a good poker player, but she could easily see his tells. Whenever he got something good, his right eye would twitch ever so slightly; whenever his hand was dismal at best, he would breathe in and hold his breath for just a second too long. Negan, on the other hand, was a bit of a challenge for her to decipher. He was so controlled over his demeanor, always orchestrating the situation to his advantage, that Lucia couldn't quite decipher his tell at first. Finally, she had see it. The better his hand, the more light she could see in his eyes, the little crinkles curving up just the slightest bit around the outer corners of his eyes. No one else would have been able to see it, but Lucia did. She spent her life observing, compensating for the fact that her world was silent. She became even more aware after the world ended and this nightmare became her reality. She couldn't hear the guns, other people, or the dead that walked among them, so she had to see them quicker and respond better to compensate.
Negan ran his hand through his salt and pepper beard and downed what was left in his glass. This girl fuckin' knew how to play poker. She had won a significant majority of the hands that they played. He wondered what her secret was, what she could see that the others couldn't. And here she acted like she wasn't that good. Oh, what a sly move. And shit, he approved. His hand wasn't the best that game, but he decided to keep rolling, he wanted to see what Lucia would do. Surprisingly, he didn't know much about the woman that he was seated across from. Negan knew most everything about everyone at the Sanctuary, but her, she was a mystery to him. She was a skilled fighter, she was focused, she was an asset ever since she arrived at the Sanctuary a year and a half earlier, and she was Deaf. That's all he knew. That's all anyone knew about her, in fact. Maybe, just maybe, he could get more out of her. Negan smiled, running his tongue over his straight white teeth.
"Well, I say we call this here round. Whadaya got goin' there, Simon?"
The man shook his head, throwing down his cards in frustration.
"I'm out, Boss, I fold. I've got nothin' worth anythin'. Maybe Luce, over here will have better luck."
Lucia set down her cards face up, she had a straight flush. She raised her brow pointedly at Negan, gesturing with her hand for him to show his cards.
"Two pair, darlin', looks like you win again."
Lucia threw him a smug little grin before gathering up her cigarette winnings. She turned to Negan, holding her hand out, wiggling her fingers a bit.
"Yeah, yeah, I know I bet my knife, no need to remind me," Negan sighed.
He placed the blade in her hand and watched as she promptly strapped it to her thigh. She tossed her long white blonde hair across her shoulder, settling back into her chair. He shook his head, that woman was confident, she wasn't trembling in his presence. She wasn't carefully measuring each word and action, afraid that he would show the worst side to her. It intrigued him even more. It wasn't that she was disrespectful, no, it was more that she held her own and wasn't ashamed of it.
"Well, Si, you in for another game?"
Simon shook his head, "Nah, Boss, I'm out of smokes and I don't wanna be betting my shit against Lucia here. If I bet it, odds are she's gonna win it. Dwight and I have some plans to go over anyway and Arat has guard duty in an hour. We'd best be off. See you in the mornin', Boss."
Simon, Dwight, and Arat stood up, nodded to Lucia and Negan before filing out of the room. Lucia made no move to follow, simply taking another swig of tequila while watching Negan. She took one of the cigarettes out of her pile, lighting it with the lighter she kept in her pocket. She inhaled deeply before leaning back, closing her eyes, and letting out a lazy puff of smoke towards the ceiling. She opened her eyes to see Negan watching her with a cocky grin plastered across his face.
"Jesus, Luce, you are indeed a woman of many vices, ain't ya?"
Lucia ran her hand through her hair as she took another drag of her cigarette.
"I indulge from time to time. It seemed like a fine night for a smoke and a drink, so I took my chances."
"Very bold of you, considerin' these are my rooms. None of the others would've dared to do what you're doin'."
Lucia, tilted her head to the side, studying Negan for a moment before answering. "I'm not like the others," she murmured, "and I'll reckon that you just might enjoy that."
At Lucia's response, his eyebrows raised, his hand ruffling his hair. What a fiesty one. No one had dared talk to him like that in years, no one. If it had been anyone else sitting before him with a mouth like that, he wouldn't have stood for it. This woman, this beautiful, intriguing, woman, though, pulled him in.
"Well just for that comment, darlin', we're gonna play a little game. I know next to nothin' about you and I can't fucking have that now, can I? You bein' a lieutenant an' all, I need to know a thing or two about ya. So here's the game: I ask you a question, you answer it. If you don' wanna be answerin' that question, I'll give you an out. Don't answer, you take a piece of clothing off. There won't be any funny business, I can promise you that. I've got my wives for that shit. I ain't gonna fuck a woman without her permission."
Lucia studied Negan's face for a minute, weighing her options. It didn't seem like she had much of a choice, but she could turn the tides a bit. Her stormy grey eyes, studied his hazel ones intently. She could even this playing field. Negan was used to everyone automatically submitting to him, to agreeing with whatever he wanted. She would agree to this, but she had conditions.
"I'll play, but only if you do, too. Ask me a question and I'll do the same to you. Fail to answer, off goes a layer of clothes. And no, you won't fuck me, not tonight at least."
Negan bit his lip, grinning even wider. The balls of steel on this girl was turning him the fuck on. He saw no harm in playing along this time.
"Well, Luce, looks like you've got yourself a deal. Since I am a goddamn gentleman, I'll even let you go first. That mouth on you is gonna get you in trouble. I don't know if I should be pissed at you or turned the fuck on. Right now, I'm both."
She chuckled quietly, shaking her head slightly. "Duly noted, Boss. So, why is that baseball bat of yours named Lucille?"
Negan shrugged off his worn leather jacket, throwing it to the ground. It wasn't something he wanted to answer. Left in his plain white t shirt, grey pants, and boots, he turned back to Lucia.
"What were you before the shit hit the fan and the world went to hell?"
"A wife and professor," she replied.
Negan rubbed his scruff with his hand, nodding to himself. He hadn't pegged her for somethin' like that. He wasn't sure what he was expecting, but a wife and a professor sure as hell wasn't it.
"You don't know me, why did you choose me as someone you rely on, someone you trust? You know nothing about me. You didn't start with me like you did Simon and Arat, you can't read me like a book like Dwight."
Negan huffed. Here he was expecting her to throw him softballs, easy questions that he could answer without giving much away. He had been mistaken.
"You've been here what, a year and a half now? You're a fuckin' hell of a fighter, better than most of my men, and you do it without sound on your side. Fuck, you're sittin' here right now havin' a chat with me jus' by readin' my lips. I don't know near enough about ya, but I do know that you're fuckin' smart as a whip an' haven't given me a reason to doubt you yet. Now, that might change, but as of now, you've proven yourself."
"You said you were a wife before all this shit, what happened to your husband? Dead?"
A sly, mischievous grin languidly spread across Lucia's face as she answered, "Who said I was married to a man?"
Negan's brows shot up in surprise. He let out a long whistle.
"Well color me surprised, darlin', you had yourself a lady. That is hot as shit! Fuckin' lucky one to have the likes of you."
Lucia nodded before continuing, "I don't fuck or love based upon gender. If I'm attracted to you, I'm attracted to you, I don't give a shit who you are. And to answer your question, she's dead, didn't make it far in this mess. Had to put her down myself."
Before Negan could reply, she shot another question back at him. "So why do you have five wives?"
He grinned wolfishly, "I'm the king of this fuckin' place, so I might as well have a few women to keep my bed warm at night. Plus, sometimes I like myself a little variety." He waggled his eyebrows at Lucia, suggestively.
She rolled her eyes at his reply. She knew his answer was bullshit, but she wasn't about to call him on it right now. Men and their status symbols. Those wives showed the Saviors that Negan was above them, that he was in charge, that this was his show. Hell, she could get behind that.
"How did you go from a fuckin' professor of whatever the shit you taught to a goddamn warrior with lady balls of steel?"
Lucia chuckled, inhaling more smoke from her cigarette. Slowly she stood up and peeled off her shirt, throwing it on the ground behind her before settling back into her chair with her legs propped up on the poker table.
What a fuckin' vixen this woman was. She didn't even seem to mind playing his little game. Negan was finding it increasingly difficult to keep his eyes on her face and not allow them to wander to other parts of her body. She was shameless, this one, and fuck he loved it.
"You can look, you know, I don't mind. It's not as if I have anything to hide. My modesty was gone far before this world took on its current state."
His tongue danced across his lower lip as he slowly studied the woman before him. She was so relaxed, so open, what a fuckin' surprise this was. Her skin was so pale, alabaster, but covered with tattoos that made a stark contrast on her skin. Negan saw a half sleeve on one arm, while the other was dotted with a few tattoos, including a pinup girl staring back at him from her forearm, as well as a delicate rose. What a fuckin' contradiction those two were. His eyes skimmed lower, past her breasts down to her lean stomach. That girl had some muscle on her, she was anything but weak. He could also see part of a tattoo peeking out on her hip, disappearing down into her jeans.
Lucia's cockiness receded a bit as she pursed her lips thoughtfully. "If you could go back to before all this, before the dead came back to life, would you?"
That was a question Negan couldn't answer. He didn't know what he would do if given the opportunity to go back to his old life. What would he have been left with if he went back? He was alone by the time everything fell apart. He wasn't alone here, not now. He was large and goddamn in charge in a world full of the dead. There wasn't really any winning though, not in this life. Eventually, someone would gun him the fuck down or one of the dead would finally get ahold of him. There was no winning, not for him, in this world or the past one. He took his shirt off, throwing it with his jacket. They were evenly matched now.
She looked at Negan, surprised. That wasn't the answer that Lucia had expected. She assumed the answer would be an automatic yes, of course he would go back to the way things were before. Then again, would she? Some days she wished back to the days in the city, remembering a time where she walked hand in hand with her wife on a beautiful spring day. Other days, she focused on what was in front of her, what was happening in the moment. She wasn't the woman who had fallen in love and gotten married anymore. She wasn't a university professor anymore either. Lucia before the world had ended and Lucia now were two different women, they had nothing in common. She had risen, she had grown, hardened herself like the world she was thrust into. She had thrown away the soft parts, for who could afford those emotions in a place such as this? Lucia was different now, there was no going back, no point wishing it either. She supposed that she could understand Negan's non answer.
Her eyes grazed his torso, he was tanned with lean muscle. That didn't surprise her, for this was the man that walked around with a baseball bat covered in barbed wire, using it on both the living and dead alike. There were tattoos on his torso and arms, a bit faded, but still quite visible. Those didn't surprise her either. A man such as Negan was bound to have ink.
"I don't mind you lookin', Luce. It ain't offendin' any of my fuckin' sensibilities or anythin' like that," Negan smirked, looking amused. "Now tell me how the goddamn hell you managed to wipe the floor with all of us durin' our poker night. Never had anyone do so well on their first go round before."
"I'm Deaf," Lucia stated matter of factly. "I can't hear so I sure as hell better be able to be aware of my surroundings. I've survived in this world and in the last, I've survived because I can see everything around me. I can tell you the names of the first row of books on the shelf behind me, starting with The Call of the Wild and ending with To Kill a Mockingbird. You have a taste for the classics, which I can appreciate. I can tell you that the record player in the corner by the door leading to what I presume is your bedroom has an AC/DC record on it right now, my favorite actually. And before you say anything, yes I can still enjoy music and no, I wasn't alway Deaf. Beside this table we're sitting at is a box of poker chips. We could've played with those, but I assume you find it more enjoyable to play for something substantial, something with real value in this world, like weapons and cigarettes. If I can tell you all that, you bet your ass I can read your tells.
"You were the most difficult for me," she continued. "I wasn't quite sure what your tell was the first hand, but then I saw it. I'm assuming it took me a little more time since you live to put on a show. I don't know where the show ends and the true Negan begins; hell, maybe you don't even know anymore. What I do know is that when you have a good hand, your eyes have more light in them, I can see the other corners of your eyes crinkle up, just slightly. You keep the rest of your face controlled, but your eyes, well that's what gave you away. You were a bit of a challenge for me, though, which made all of this even more enjoyable."
Negan stared at the woman, stunned into silence for a minute. Everything she had just listed off was completely accurate. He knew she took in the world differently, but nothing could have prepared him for the things she had disclosed. He hadn't even known his own tell, and yet she had seen it.
He let out a slow whistle before responding, "Well I'll be damned, Luce, you sure know how to surprise a guy. Haven't been this shocked by much since the fuckin' world ended! I don' know if I'm more awestruck, turned on, or scared of ya. Right now, it's all fuckin' three!"
Lucia acknowledged his statement with a roll of her eyes and a smile. She was enjoying herself far more than she thought she would. She took another drag of her cigarette and then offered it to Negan.
"If I'm smoking in your quarters, I suppose I should be polite and offer to share," she said in a teasingly apologetic voice.
Negan leaned forward, taking the proffered cigarette. He took a long drag before handing it back and putting his feet up on the poker table, mirroring her posture, waiting for her question.
"Were you married? Not to the five women you call your wives, but before this. Was there someone?"
Another question Negan had no intention of answering. He didn't talk about Lucille, the real Lucille, to anyone. He wasn't about to start now. Instead of replying, he kicked his boots off and turned to Lucia, ready to ask his question.
She wondered what he was holding back. If his silence was anything, she supposed that he was married at some point or another. She doubted that he would tell that story, though. He had a persona to uphold, after all.
"Were you a mother? If you were all married with the happily ever after and shit, I'm guessin' kids were a thing too, right?"
The was the one question Lucia dreaded, the one she would not answer. She stood up, threw her gun and knives to the ground, staring daggers at Negan as she peeled off her jeans. She sat and stared, not saying a word.
Negan could feel the fury radiating off the blonde woman in waves as she sat clad only in her boots and undergarments. He knew he had gone a step too far, pushed his questioning farther than he should've. So many children hadn't survived, so many had died right at the beginning. He sighed, wiping his face with his hand, frustrated. He had fucked up.
"Aw hell, Luce, I'm sorry, that was too far. I shouldn't have asked. Sometimes I can be a fuckin' dick, I wasn't thinkin'. If you wanna go, you can go, I won' hold it against ya, darlin'. I forget sometimes, where I should be stoppin'."
She shook her head. She wasn't about to show him weakness, not now, not ever. She was surprised that he had apologized. Negan wasn't one to do that sort of thing. She couldn't recall a time where she had him witnessed him apologize for, well, anything. She was done with this line of questioning, she decided to turn the tide.
"It's my turn to as a question, correct?"
Negan nodded, unsure what would come next.
"We can keep playing, but this one you don't get to cop out on. You answer this or I walk away. It's only fair that I have some type of advantage, however temporary, after that last question."
He inclined his head forward slightly, mulling over her statement. He supposed that he could give her at least that after he royally pissed her the fuck off. He swallowed before gesturing her to continue.
"Do you want to fuck me?" she asked. There was no hesitation behind the question, no fear, simply curiosity.
Negan growled, annoyed. "I told you at the beginnin' of all this that I don't fuck women without their permission. Last I checked, you told me that you weren't gonna fuck me tonight."
Lucia stood up, Negan following suit. She looked up at him, challengingly. She was a tall woman at 5'11, but he was taller. She got dangerously close, her eyes never leaving his.
"Watch yourself, darlin', you are treadin' on some mighty fine ice there," he hissed.
"That isn't what I asked you, Negan. Do. You. Want. To. Fuck. Me?" was her response.
"Course I wanna fuck you, doll, have you seen yourself lately? You're hot as shit, covered in ink, smart as a goddamn whip, and have an ass I'd love to smack. You are a goddamn bold woman who is up in my space right now and fuck, I'm really trying to control myself here because I am a man of my mother fucking word."
Lucia reached up, placing one hand on his whiskered cheek. He leaned into her touch, growling in increased frustration. She studied him, watching as his eyes flitted closed momentarily. Maybe this was where tonight was headed all along. Maybe they were going to fall into this, whether they liked it or not. She placed her other hand on his chest, right over his heart. She could feel him suck in quickly as his eyes shot back open, boring into hers.
"I want you to fuck me, I'm giving you permission. I didn't know I wanted this until I decided that I did. If I didn't want this, I'd walk away. I would have left when you told me I could. You can touch me, you know. I'm not made of fucking glass."
"If I start, I'm not gonna stop. I'm not gonna be gentle either. If you want gentle, go fuckin' find that with someone else. I promise I'll make it good for ya, though. I'm not the only one leavin' satisfied."
Tonight seemed to be going quite differently than either of them had originally planned.