As always, the marvellous Catherine Morgenstern waved her grammatical wand over this piece. Her endless enthusiasm makes writing Respect so much easier and her insight never ceases to amaze me. Thank you, dearest.
The ride back to the Sanctuary was almost unbearable. Simon wouldn't speak to her and every time she tried to apologize, he huffed and refused to look at her. In the end she had given up trying. The truck's cab reeked and even with the windows cranked down and the air vents fully open, the stink of hair tonic had thickened the air with its powerful floral scent. Catherine had switched to breathing through her mouth, but that only worked for a few short seconds before violet and jasmine had invaded her senses once more. To make matters worse, Negan had refused to travel back with them, instead swapping with Dwight.
He'd smirked when he saw Catherine's scowl and outright laughed when Dwight had squeezed his way onto the seat, deliberately squashing her against Simon's side. She'd retaliated by jabbing her elbow into his ribs. It remained there for the entire journey. Every time he opened his mouth to speak, she made sure to dig in especially hard.
The only joy she felt during the trip back was from the small jar of coffee she was holding. Whenever the truck hit a bump, she could hear the soft, dry rustling of the grounds hitting the glass and watch the rich brown granules slide from side to side. It wouldn't taste as good as freshly ground beans, but it would still resemble liquid heaven filling her mouth. Catherine could practically taste the bitterness on the back of her tongue and she would willingly cut off a small body part for just one cup.
Just as a headache was springing to life, the intimidating outline of the Sanctuary appeared on the horizon.
"About time," Catherine said.
Simon huffed out a breath. "What 'ave you got to complain about? You're not the one stinking like a whorehouse in heat."
She pressed her lips together to prevent a smirk from forming at his disgruntled tone. "It's your own fault for standing by the counter," she said.
"Maybe he wants to smell like a whore," Dwight chipped in, chuckling when they both turned to him and glared.
"Fuck off," Simon muttered, pulling through the gates and manoeuvring the truck into a parking place.
"Just a thought," Dwight said, "Either that or you're tryin' to impress the lovely Catherine."
"Why don't you just shut your fucking mouth!" Catherine hissed. "Nobody wants to hear your voice! You're pond scum, the dirt beneath my-"
"Yeah, yeah." He interrupted. "Whatever. You can cut the crap now. Lover boy has gone."
Catherine turned her head to see Simon had climbed out of the cab and was stomping away. She quickly jumped out and called out, "Hey! Where are you going?"
"I'm gonna go wash this shit off," Simon muttered in a sour tone that almost made her smile, but then she saw that he had taken the coffee with him.
"Damn," she murmured as she made to follow, but before she walked away she looked Dwight in the eye and said, "Wixxer."
The blond frowned and opened his mouth to reply, but Catherine was already walking away.
"Hey, kittycat! Where the fuck do you think you're going?" Negan shouted from across the yard. "I know you're not gonna leave my men to carry all the shit we collected in on their own." He crooked his finger and grinned at her. "Now get that sweet little arse over here and start unloadin'."
"Fuckity fuck," she muttered, wondering if she could somehow get out of it. But one glance at Negan's amused face told her that, no, she could not.
She marched towards the largest truck, passing Negan without once looking at his smug face. The sound of his chuckle filled the air behind her and she rolled her eyes, but refused to look back.
"Not so fast there, doll. I think you've forgotten something, don't you?"
Catherine stopped walking. "What?"
The sound of approaching footsteps reached her ears and she tensed, her hands automatically reaching up for her blades.
"Now now, doll. Let's be careful, huh? Shit. I don't want to have to hurt you." He paused behind her, his presence smothering the air before he placed his hands on her hips and began to trail them slowly up her sides. "Why don't I take those from you. That way nobody gets injured."
Catherine's lips pressed into a thin line, but she didn't prevent him from slipping the knives free. In truth, she was distracted by the feel of his hot breath on the back of her neck.
"Perfect," Negan said. "Now off you go."
It took thirty minutes to unload the trucks. Ten more before she was able to track down Simon. She found him in the bathroom on the third floor. The area was usually restricted to those who had earned the privilege of a bath, which Catherine hadn't yet.
For a moment she paused outside the door, pressed her ear to the wood and listened to the sound of him splashing and singing an off key rendition of Bon Jovi's Living on a Prayer. A laugh bubbled up from her chest and she had the mad urge to see him. She was convinced that if she opened the door she would catch him using a shampoo bottle as a microphone.
Grinning, Catherine opened the door. Simon was surrounded by bubbles, his face and hair were covered in soap as he scrubbed himself clean. His eyes were closed as he continued to rub the suds over his face and sing between breaths. Catherine crept carefully into the perfume-scented room and closed the door behind her. She shook her head at the pool of water that had spilled over the tub and soaked into his clothes. It was almost sacrilege. Water was a precious commodity and to see it used so frivolously seemed wrong. Not that she would refuse such a treat. In fact, she was sorely tempted to strip and climb in with him.
She crossed the small space and sat on the rim of the tub near his feet. Whilst he was soaping the back of his neck, she took the opportunity to check him out. His arms and shoulders were ropey with muscles and his chest looked solid. A fine spattering of hair covered his pecs and stomach. A stomach that displayed a six pack that she never would've imagined him to have. The bubbles had started to disperse and she could see his cock lying limp against his thigh. He was large and she wondered how much his size would increase when he was erect.
Simon suddenly moved, bending his knees and dipping his head beneath the water to wash off the soap. Catherine felt her grin widen in anticipation. She only had to wait two seconds before he surfaced again, dragging his hand down his face to remove the excess water.
"Hello, big boy," she said, quirking a brow and glancing at his crotch.
"Fuck!" Simon quickly moved to cup himself and the fast movement caused the water to surge up the sides of the tub. "What the hell are you doin' in here?!"
Catherine frowned as the water splashed her bum and thigh. "I'm here to talk about the coffee."
"The fuck?" He removed one of his hands and tried to scoop the remaining bubbles into a pile.
"There's no point in hiding your tug-toy, Honeybun." She grinned and waggled her eyebrows. "I've already seen it."
"Damn, woman," Simon muttered. "Bursting in on a man taking a bath and asking about fuckin' coffee."
"I never joke about coffee. Especially if you want me to be in a good mood." She adjusted her seat and leant closer. "I'm much more fun to be around when I've had a cup of coffee. Now let's figure out a way for you to share it with me without Negan finding out."
"I ain't sharing shit with you," Simon said. "Now fuck off and leave a man to bathe in peace."
Catherine smirked. "You sure you want me to leave without telling you why bathing isn't going to wash off the smell of perfume?"
"Huh? What are you talking about?" His mustache twitched in irritation.
"Not until you agree to sneak me a cup of coffee every day," she replied.
Simon snorted. "Have you got any idea what Negan would do to me if he found out?"
"Iron the wrinkles out of your face?"
"And the rest," he muttered.
Catherine tipped her head to the side and considered what he'd said. She hadn't realised until that point how loyal he was to Negan. Her hopes of using Simon to help her escape faded into nothing. "You're really that afraid of him?"
"Fuck yeah. And if you ain't then you haven't been paying attention." He lifted the hand not holding his cock and threw a palmful of water at her. "Now tell me how to wash this shit off."
"Get out of the tub," she said.
"What? You messing with me?" He gave her a suspicious look and refused to move.
"No, I'm not messing with you. Now get out of the fucking tub."
He still didn't move.
Catherine pushed to her feet and crossed her arms. "Fine. Sit in a bath full of perfume-scented water. Let it soak into your skin and hair. I'm sure your friends will love to sniff you and tell you how nice you smell."
"Shit," Simon mumbled as he climbed awkwardly out of the water.
Catherine smirked and watched as he shuffled onto the mat, hands covering his crotch and face crumpled into a scowl.
"You'll have to soap up and take a shower." She studied her nails in pretend nonchalance. "But it would be a shame to let the bath water go to waste, don't you think?"
"Huh? Fuck the bath water, it….oh...I see what you're doing, Cat." Simon shook his head. "Ain't gonna work. Baths have to be earned. But if you help me wash this shit off, I might let you wash your hands."
"Help how?" Catherine asked, suspicion giving her voice an edge.
Simon rolled his eyes. "I just want you to soap my fucking back."
"Oh." She reached for a slab of grey coloured soap. "Sure. Turn around then."
He hesitated for a moment before turning and she knew by the slight blush touching his cheeks that he didn't want to show her his ass.
Of course she made sure to take a good look at the firm mounds so she could tease him later on. Maybe in front of the others. The bar of soap was already slick and Simon's back was damp enough that she didn't need to wet his skin. Starting at the top of his shoulders, Catherine rubbed the bar across his skin. She was so intent on covering every inch that she didn't notice the door swing open.
"Well. Well. Well. What the shit do we have here? Are you rubbing his fuckin' back?" Negan said.
Catherine whipped her head to the side and saw the Sanctuary's leader leaning against the doorjamb. He wasn't wearing his jacket and it seemed odd to see him in a white t-shirt and jeans. Lucille was absent, as was the large hunting knife he usually wore strapped to his thigh.
"Nobody's speaking. Do I need to repeat my fuckin' question?" He came into the room and stopped just behind her.
"I'm helping him remove the smell," Catherine stated.
Negan swiped his tongue across his bottom lip. "Is that a fact?"
"It is." Catherine scrubbed the soap over the planes on Simon's back. "A fact you can clearly see happening right in front of you."
"Mmmm." He leaned into her, pressing her against Simon's back so he could speak to his enforcer. "She good at rubbin' you, Simon? Should I let her rub me?"
Simon chuckled. "Ain't you got enough women rubbin' on you?"
"I'm man enough to take on another." He tipped his head down so that his breath fanned the side of Catherine's neck and his lips grazed the skin behind her ear. "You up for that, babygirl?"
"I'm up for you moving," she muttered, irritated that his presence was making her squirm and even more irritated that her front was getting damp from Simon's skin. "I'm getting wet."
"Course you are." He pressed closed. "You want me to take care of that for you?"
Catherine moved the hand holding the soap down and slid the bar into Negan's hand. "Take care of him instead," she said, pushing Simon away and walking out of the room. The deep sound of Negan's laughter followed her.
Wixer = wanker (stick with us and we'll teach you all kind of interesting German swearwords ;)
This chapter was interesting to write and I did get a little carried away towards the end, which resulted in two versions. This one and a smutty piece that is in Catherine's possession…...
A huuuuuge thank you to those who reviewed the last chapter. You guys are spectacular.