A/N: Thanks to those who dropped a review. Please keep them coming, as they help the process ;)
ooooooooooooooo
Sasha could feel her pulse race.
One weekend; she only had one weekend to convince Negan that she could be with him.
Hell. She wasn't even sure she could convince herself.
"No. No, no, no, no, no," she muttered to herself, hands braced on the kitchen sink. Negan was outside "enjoying the view" he claimed, though she knew that it was really to get some distance from her to think.
'He's rethinking this whole thing,' she thought. 'I have to prove myself…I have to protect the others.'
Feverishly she went through the cabinets, though it didn't take her long to find what she was looking for. With a smile on her face, she said, "Bingo."
ooooooooooooooo
"Son of a rotten bitch," Negan grumbled as he dragged the dead away from the cabin. This was not shaping up to be the weekend he imagined it would be at all.
There was something special about Sasha; she had a light and grit about her that was just unheard of. She challenged him, and he loved it. When she asked if he would be willing to make a deal with her, he hardly hesitated at the prospect.
How could he?
Anyone who knew Negan knew that he had an affinity for strong women, which was why half of his Savior generals were indeed women. Sasha would have tipped those scales, until she suggested being someone who didn't just dictate others. While thrilled, he was also incredibly shocked. Sasha didn't seem like the type to slow things down. But he had been wrong about that.
And after learning about that big ginger he bashed in – Abraham – he learned that he was more wrong than he ever could have known. With a swing, he had taken the slow-down, easy living future Sasha had wanted away. And knowing that, there was no way he could delude himself that part of her was doing this because she wanted to. Oh, no, no, no. Sasha was set on being a martyr.
"Well…shit." Negan kicked the walker body before him in the face in disgust. The sensation of anger mingled with frustration bubbled forth, and he began to stomp the thing's head into oblivion.
When he was finished, he decided he wouldn't let her do it. He'd make Sasha a head as he had intended all along, and rethink how to go about the truce with Rick's people, and what type of punishment should be doled out. Disappointed at the never to be intimacy he'd wanted with Sasha, Negan headed back inside. As soon as he closed the door, Sasha's hands grabbed him by the shoulders, spinning him around and onto the couch.
"What—"
Before he could complete his indignant questioning, she was on him, literally, straddling his hips and forcing his shoulders back onto the couch cushions. She panted, staring at him, and Negan smelled the unmistakable scent of tequila.
"You wanna be convinced, huh?"
Before he could answer, she was kissing him, shoving her tongue into his mouth. He gave in for a moment, then pushed her back. "I was saving that bottle, you know. How much did you have?"
"Does it matter?" she asked, leaning towards him again. He held her back.
"How much?" he asked, his tone more demanding than questioning.
Sasha paused, then closed her eyes, swaying a bit. "Enough."
Negan scoffed. "So your brilliant plan to seduce me started with you getting drunk off your ass, huh?"
"I'm not drunk."
"The hell you aren't!" Negan yelled, sitting up.
Head in her hands, Sasha began to cry.
Negan exhaled, pulling her to him. "I want you. Just not like this."
"We have a deal. You said you wouldn't go back on your word. You can't."
Negan pulled back, staring into her eyes. Tenderly, he caressed her cheek with the backs of his fingers and whispered, "Fair play."
ooooooooooooooo
Sasha awoke later that night in bed, fully clothed. Alone. Disoriented for a few seconds, it all came flooding back to her. Her head wasn't pounding as much, so she supposed she wasn't that hung over. Slowly she got out of bed, heading towards the main part of the cabin. She found Negan sitting on the couch, writing in what appeared to be a puzzle book.
"Sudoku?" she asked.
He shook his head. "Logic problems, actually. Keeps the mind sharp."
"How long was I out?"
He looked up at her. "About four hours. You took some hefty swigs on a mostly empty stomach. You fared alright, considering. How do you feel?"
"A bit disjointed, but…okay."
Eyes steady on him, she walked over, sitting on the couch next to him, striking the balance between close and maintaining a personal bubble between them.
"The deal," she started. "It's still on?"
He sighed. "You called it. My word is my bond."
Sasha nodded. "Mind if we take it slow?"
"If that means you not getting piss drunk to spend time with me, yes." He shifted, turning towards her, tossing the logic book on the coffee table. "The deal was for you. That means stone cold sober and both eyes open, okay?"
"Okay," she whispered. She watched him as he watched her, brown eyes flickering from her mouth to her eyes and back again. For what seemed to be painfully slow, he reached up, cupping her cheek.
"Sasha, my future queen, would it be alright if I kissed you?" he muttered, leaning inward. As her response, she didn't pull away. She felt the hair of his beard first, tickling above and below her lips, then felt the fullness of his lips pressing against hers. He pulled back, looking her over, making sure she was okay before dipping back in. The kisses were firm, yet chaste.
Eyes open all the while, she kissed him back.
He snuck a peak, catching her looking at him. He smiled. "Would it make you more comfortable if I said we can keep it to second base?"
"Second?" she asked.
He nodded, pulling her to him, on top of his lap. He reached up, cupping her face yet again as leaned in to resume kissing her. His other hand remained on her hip, massaging, rocking her, lightly undulating so she could feel him. He moaned low in his throat when she began to rock back.
"Sasha…"
God help her, she liked how his hands felt; how his kisses felt. And if there was anything to be done right now, then all she wanted was to feel; to lose herself in feeling.
Negan moved to kissing and nipping at her neck, slowly kneading her breasts through her shirt, reveling in the little noises she made. They began to move against each other in earnest, her threading her fingers through his hair, and him grasping her hips firmly, moving her more firmly against him.
Sasha tried like hell to hold on to the feeling rather than the man behind it. She closed her eyes, feeling herself grow closer. And closer. And closer.
Circulating her hips against him, holding him tight, so very close, he pulled her back by her hair, making her face him.
"Look at me," he commanded, his voice low and heavy with lust.
Unbidden and eyes locked on his, she came.
