"Pass the hot sauce."

"I didn't put any out," I reply, taking a bite, "It's shepherd's pie."

"I'll just get some from the fridge," She gets up from the table, "It could use a little kick."

"It tastes like how I always make it."

"Sure, but I like a little kick." She grabs a bottle of hot sauce and brings it over.

"Can I have some of that?" Nanda puts her hand out.

"Me, too." Jolyon chimes in.

"Yeah, me, too." Abel says.

"No, you're gonna eat it as is."

"But I like it, too."

"No, you don't, it's always too spicy for you."

"That's not true!"

"Jol, give him a little drop on his finger to test it out."

Jolyon gently tilts the bottle and lets a fiery red drop of hot sauce fall onto the tip of Abel's little finger. We all watch as Abel sticks his finger in his mouth. He makes a face and sticks out his tongue.

"It's too hot!" He says, prompting Jolyon, Nanda, and Lourdes to laugh.

"Drink some of your milk, bebé."

Abel picks up his milk and takes a sip. "I don't want that on my food."

"See, what did I tell you?"

"Are you okay?" Ravinder asks him.

"Yeah, it was just really spicy."

"Aw, poor baby." Nanda says sympathetically, before going back to her dinner.

The Patels came over to see how the boys' stay at Sanctuary was right as we were sitting down for dinner, so then ended up staying. I think Nanda wanted to go to the Sanctuary with those who went to get the power back on, but it would have been unnecessary, so Martin told her to stay here.

I wonder if it has anything to do with that guy she was talking to before. If so, really? They chit chatted once. At least I think it was one time, but still, it's not like they fell romantically in love with each other. He's probably was just being nice to get in her pants. Some guys aren't so apparent. They long con you into bed with the nice guy act.

"So, did you have fun at your dad's?" Ravinder asks the boys.

"Yeah, our dad is really fun." Abel answers, sticking a single pea in his mouth.

"What sort of stuff did you do?"

"Yeah, I'm really interested in knowing that as well," I look at Abel, "What kind of things did your dad let you do for fun?"

"Um…," Abel looks up in thought, "We got to color and read books…and do our homework."

I lift my brow. "That's all?"

"Well, that was when Dad was working and his wives had to watch us."

I stick my tongue in my cheek, glancing over at Jolyon for a moment. "Were you with them a lot?"

"Um, sometimes, but only when Dad had to deleget." Abel answers.

"Deleget? You mean delegate?"

"Yeah."

"Oh, brother."

"What'd you do when Dad was home?" Lourdes asks.

"We played games and got to do fun stuff," Abel points to Jolyon, "Jol got to shoot bottles on the roof."

"Sounds dangerous." Lourdes notes mildly.

"Yeah, and I got to throw rocks at them," Abel goes on, "And Dad let us stay up past our bedtime. Well, only a few times, because he said I got too cranky in the morning."

"Wow, sounds like you had a fun time."

"Yeah," Abel nods, "Oh, and we got to say bad words."

"What?" I look up from my food.

"Only when Dad said it was okay."

I peer over at Jolyon. He looks down. Of course, the one old enough to know better still wouldn't pass up the opportunity to fire off a couple of curse words.

"And we got to race in the halls."

"With scissors in your hand?" I ask sarcastically.

"No."

I roll my eyes. I wouldn't be surprised if he let them handle a flamethrower.

"My favorite thing was getting to pee off the roof."

"What?" Nanda scoffs with slight humor in her voice.

"Dad let us pee off the roof once."

"Are you fu-" I hold my tongue, "Are you joking?"

"No," Abel shakes his head, "It's okay, Mom. There was no one down there when I did it."

My eyes move on Jolyon. "Did you also pee off the roof?"

"No," Jolyon immediately denies, "Just Abel. He had to go and Negan didn't want to leave me on the roof with the gun."

"Why didn't he just have you leave the roof, too?" Lourdes inquires with a face of disgust. "Or take the gun away?"

Jolyon shrugs his shoulders.

"It was fun!" Abel chuckles. "It went all the way down to the very bottom."

"Well, I'm glad you had fun, because it'll be the last time you ever do that again, do you understand?" My tone is curt and final.

Abel nods, sheepishly. "Yes."

I sigh through my nose, pissed. I knew Negan wasn't telling me everything. "Didn't you do any quiet activities with Dad? Was it all…snakes and snails and puppy dog tails?"

Abel looks confused. "Dad doesn't have a puppy, Mom. He's only got Pip."

"I mean, was it all boy stuff?" I clarify. "All you did was make trouble?"

"No, we played catch," Jolyon says, "And Negan had a football, so he taught us how to throw that. And…we played cards."

"You gambled?"

He shrugs. "With a jar of assorted nuts…M&Ms for Abel."

I put my hand over my eye. "Did he let you smoke and drink, too? Jesus."

"It was just Go Fish, Mom," Jolyon assures me, "We played board games, too."

I sigh. "Anything else? Did you burn down any abandoned buildings, or…play that knife game where you stab between your fingers?"

"No."

"We had fun, Mom," Abel says, "Dad has movies and let us watch one before bed."

"Kid movies?" I look to Jolyon.

"Um, some, but nothing scary or rated R."

"No nudity?"

"Nope."

"Okay."

"It really wasn't as bad as it sounds, Mom. Honest," Jolyon tells me, "Negan is just...new at being a dad."

"Aw." Ravinder says quietly.

I nod my head. Lourdes and I share a look.

…

The house is like an icebox. I turned in the wood stove to try and warm the place before bed, but the heat always finds a way to escape. I made the boys put extra layers on for bed tonight and even suggested that Jolyon sleep with Abel and I.

The boys fell asleep after some hot cocoa before bed to fill their bellies with enough warmth to make them sleepy. I drank some mint tea but I haven't relaxed my mind enough to get to sleep.

The look on Negan's face when he told Abel that he didn't know if I could come with them to the Sanctuary still bothers me.

I get out of bed gently so I won't wake the boys. I drape a blanket over my shoulders and walk out of the bedroom to sit on the couch alone for awhile to think.

Was I in the wrong for being upset at his answer? I didn't intend on starting an argument like he accused me of. I really do wish we would have found each other before we both became who we are. Life might have been different. Don't get me wrong, I like where I am, but I'd like to think that if I asked him to walk away from all this with me, he would, and we'd be happy together with our family.

Sometimes, back before we found Halcyon and I had time to day dream, I would lay awake and think about the life we could have had if I had waited for him longer. We'd live somewhere quiet and pastoral, living off the fat of the land with our family. I know, it's sort of cliche, but it's a lot better than living in some factory like he wants.

I guess maybe it's not fair to be mad at him for his answer, even if it is based on some stupid, egotistical delusion that he's making a difference in the world. It is all just hypothetical. We didn't find each other sooner.

I try to enclose myself further into the blanket as I sulk on the couch. It's so fucking cold in here. I'm surprised I can't see my breath.

I lay my head down on the arm rest, closing my eyes to maybe get some rest. But a creaking sound opens my eyes again. It's the front door.

I listen as the door slowly opens and shuts again with a little force from the winter wind. Footsteps approach the couch. I don't have my gun or my knife, but I'm ready to fight.

"Pippa?"

I furrow my brows at the soft whisper of my name. A hand touches my shoulder and I instantly turn. "Jesus?"

Paul stares down at me with his piercing, but friendly blue eyes.

"What the hell are you doing here?"

He smiles. "It's nice to see you, too, Pippa."

I sit up. "I didn't think you'd come back."

"Why? Because you made a deal with the Saviors?"

"It's been a few months," I reply, "Usually I'd see you sooner than now."

"Well, that was because you could afford to help Hilltop when we were in need."

"Always happy to help." I say with some wryness. I arch my brow. "Was that you I saw in the woods earlier?"

Jesus smirks as he leans against the wall.

"So, you saw him?"

"Who? Negan?" Jesus shakes his head. "No. When you spotted me, I climbed up in a tree, thinking you'd come after me. I saw the car but I couldn't make him out with the branches in my way."

I nod my head. "You didn't follow us back until now?"

"I found the trucks that were with him," Jesus tells me, "I thought following them back would be more beneficial."

"And what'd you find?"

"The radio station."

Again, I nod. Nothing then.

"Seems like things must be going pretty well, if you trust the Saviors with your kids."

I don't answer. "We got the same deal you got."

"I could've told you that."

"Right."

"Why'd he take the kids?"

"They're home now."

"I see that," He says, "But why did he take them?"

"Part of the deal."

Jesus grows concerned. "And you're okay with that?"

"Negan wouldn't hurt them."

"How do you know that?"

"Because I just do."

He arches my brow. "So, you're what? In good with them?"

"In some ways."

"What does that mean, Pippa?"

"It means we've been trading goods and services to pay off our debt and Negan's pleased with us." I dismiss.

"And when you do something to displease him?"

"Negan hasn't made any threats and no one's gotten hurt," I shrug, "I'm fine with how things are operating."

Jesus scoffs incredulously."Maybe you should see for yourself how Negan really operates."

I furrow my brows. "What?"

"Come to Hilltop with me," Jesus suggests, "You'll see what the Saviors are capable of."

…

"How long will you be gone?"

"A few hours," I tell Lourdes, "Maybe a day."

"I think I should go with you."

"You need to stay to look after the boys and Halcyon," I throw my pack in the truck, "I'll be fine on my own." I spot Jesus coming towards the car. "With Jesus."

"Why are you going again?"

"To meet Gregory."

"And why the hell would you do that?" Lourdes huffs. "What good will that do us? We can't trade with them."

"I'll be back as soon as I can."

Lourdes sighs through her nose. "You say goodbye to the boys?"

"Of course," I confirm, "Are you gonna look after them?"

"Of course."

"Thank you."

"You think it's a good idea to leave?"

I look at her as I get into the truck, where Jesus is already buckled and ready to roll. People don't dislike Jesus, they just don't like that he asks for resources with no intentions of offering any back. Sort of like the Saviors but with less hostility.

"Does the radio work?" He asks.

I look over at him with a raised brow as I drive through the gates. "What you mean music?"

"Yeah," He nods, "Does the CD player work?"

"Oh...yeah."

"Good." Jesus reaches into his trench coat. He pulls forth a CD in a clear plastic case.

I raise my brow again. "Really?"

"I know it's not the best, but hey," Paul shrugs with a smile, "Music is one of the few things that all people enjoy."

"You're right," I exhale, "But Nickelback is the one band that all people hate."

"They weren't the best, but you mean to tell me that there isn't one song of theirs you don't like?"

"Mmm ...Nope."

"Liar," Jesus chuckles under his breath, "Everyone likes 'em more they're willing to admit."

"You mean to tell me that back before the change you were a hardcore Nickelback fan?"

"No, but I liked some of their songs."

I scoff. "If I had known that, I would have never spoken to you."

Jesus looks over at me and smiles in disbelief.

"Alright, which way to Hilltop?"

…

It takes us four hours to reach Hilltop, which is in fact on top of a hill. The walls of the community are similar to the walls of Halcyon. When they open the gates to Jesus, I learn that the place is much smaller than home. Less buildings, very few in fact, but plenty of camps and structures that resemble the makings of houses.

It looks mostly agrarian, but again our livestock outnumbers what I can see of theirs. The pounding of a blacksmith's hammer is one of the first things I hear when getting out of the car. People stare curiously at me as I stalk around to meet Jesus.

"Who's this?" A man asks, walking up.

"This is Pippa Barnes," Jesus tells him, "She's a good, long friend of mine."

The man looks me over, unimpressed. "What? She needs a place to stay?"

"No, she wants to talk to Gregory," Jesus explains, "She's from a place far from here."

"What do you want to talk to Gregory about?" The man asks me directly.

"You his secretary?" I reply.

The man scoffs.

"Pippa is a friend," Jesus says, "She's done us a lot of good when we were low on our cut to the Saviors, so be civil."

The man glances me over again.

I follow Jesus as he begins to walk towards a large, grand house in the dead center of the community.

"A plantation house?"

"No, just an old 18th century mansion that was turned into a museum."

I nod my head. "Sort of like Halcyon."

"Yeah, sort of." Jesus goes up the front steps and I go after him. He doesn't knock, he just simply opens the front door.

The inside of the mansion is immaculate. Huge, glorious paintings in mahogany frames hang on the walls. The furniture is old like Halcyon's but much more nicer. The staircase is perhaps the most impressive. It looks like it could have been in Gone With the Wind.

"How many people live here?"

"Just Gregory."

I look over at him. "One man?"

"Yeah…" Jesus sighs.

"Jesus!" A swift, angry whisper gets both our attention at the top of the stairs. An older man practically hides around a corner. He fiercely waves Paul over, as if I'm not aware he's there.

Jesus arches his brow at the man, who I assume must be Gregory. He motions me to follow before ascending the staircase. The man gripes audibly below his breath as he sees the two of us, me especially, coming towards him. He finally makes himself more apparent.

"Gregory." Jesus greets.

"How dare you bring Hilltop another mouth to feed!" Gregory rudely responds, "Two weeks until the end of the month; you got some nerve. I'm sorry, I really am, but your little lady friend is going to have to leave."

"This is Pippa Barnes," Jesus introduces me, annoyed, "She's the leader of Halcyon."

Gregory acknowledges me, but with a deep furrow as he looks me up and down. "What? Her?"

It's hard not to take offense to that.

"Yes, her."

"You can't be serious," Gregory says with almost a laughing scoff, "She's a girl."

"Good eye." I retort.

He looks at me. "Pardon me, what I mean to say is that you're a little young to be leading anything other than a sewing circle, aren't you?"

I huff, peering over at Jesus. "Is he joking?"

"Gregory, Pippa has provided us with food and other resources that we needed it. Have a little more manners that."

"You forget who is in charge of this place, Paul, and in charge of you," Gregory argues, "Now, why on earth did you bring her here?"

"I wanted to meet you," I say to him, "I wanted to meet the man who shamelessly takes handouts with no intentions of returning the favor." I look him over. "And then has the balls to question me as a leader."

"Oh, so that's why you've come?" Gregory scoffs. "To get some sort of repayment? Everything you gave us was a charitable donation!"

"I don't give charitable donations," I correct him, "I generously give to people in need, but only with the understanding that we'll eventually be square."

"Well, if you'd like to be repaid, I suggest you take it up with the Saviors." He walks dismissively through a doorway into a large office.

I cross my arms. "I do wonder how the Saviors would feel knowing that you kept Halcyon a secret for all this time."

Gregory stops in his tracks. "You know the Saviors?"

It's bitter to admit it, but I stare back in confirmation.

This seems to send a panic in Gregory. "Well, good god, what the devil are you doing here? Leave! I want nothing to do with you. If they find out we've known about each other, they'll-"

"Be pissed to know you've been skirting by on someone else's hard work? Hiding a gold mine like Halcyon for yourself?" I tsk-tsk. "Knowing Negan, he'll want an explanation."

Gregory turns, eyeing me. "You've met Negan?"

"We've known each other for a while," I tell him, "And Halcyon is sort of in favor with him at the moment, so I think getting an audience with him would be easy as pie."

Jesus looks over at me.

"Y-you wouldn't," Gregory says, clearly concerned, "You wouldn't do something that cruel. Endanger the lives of these good people?"

I arch my brow in response.

"Look, i-it's not that I don't want to pay you back for your kindness, but we owe half of everything to the Saviors and-"

"Relax, I didn't come here for payment," I cut him off, "I just wanted to meet you is all. Finally see Hilltop, since I've been begging Paul to bring me."

Jesus gives me a look. "I wanted Pippa to see Rory's grave."

Gregory appears squeamish. "Why on earth would you show her that?"

Paul meets my eyes gravely. "So, she could see who the Saviors really are."

The leader looks over at me, curious. "Haven't you, uh, learned how grave they were already? You owe to them, don't you?"

I break my gaze with Jesus, clearing my throat. "We've had fairly hospitable interactions with the Saviors."

"How is that possible?" Gregory asks me. "They're absolute thugs. Barbarians."

I blink to Jesus who doesn't appear to deny what Gregory's saying.

"What did you do to escape their brutality?"

I look on Gregory with what I know is a cold stare.

"Come on, Pippa," Jesus starts to walk out, "I'll take you to Rory's grave."

I follow Jesus, moving past Gregory.

"Y-you can't stay here, you know," He calls after me, "You have to leave, do you hear me?"

I go down the stairs with Jesus. "Your leader is a coward."

"You don't have to tell me that," Jesus says, "He calls them thugs now, but he rolls out the hospitality when they come to collect. He doesn't like confrontation and he only wishes he had the good report with Negan you do."

"I don't think he's Negan's type."

Jesus pauses at the foot of the stairs. "You...and him?"

"No, of course not," I lie like a dog, "It was a joke."

"Hm." He nods, proceeding out the door of the mansion.

Jesus leads me towards the back of the community where their graveyard is. He stops at a small cross made of two sticks strung together. A small thing of wilted flowers rest on the ground below it.

"Martha."

I look to Jesus and then turn my head the other way to follow his gaze. A woman of her mid forties comes over.

"This is Martha," Jesus tells me, "She's Rory's mother."

I suddenly feel like I've been cornered.

Martha smiles a tried smile at me. "Hello."

"Hello." I smile back.

She looks down at the grave and her smile wanes. "I try to put flowers at his grave every week, but nothing really grows here in the winter."

I nod my head in silence.

"The Saviors killed Rory the first time they came to Hilltop." Jesus reminds me.

Martha's fleeting smile goes. Her face grows than sorrowful. "He had just started to apprentice the blacksmith."

I look at the grave.

"The Saviors chose him to kill to set an example," Jesus informs me, "Selected him out of the crowd of us and then bludgeoned him to death."

Martha's lip quivers and tears gloss in her eyes.

Jesus motions me to leave with him and let her alone. I don't need encouragement to want to leave. As we walk away, she begins to cry.

"What was that?" I snap under my breath. "Having his mother come meet us? What a dirty pull."

"Pippa, the Saviors killed a sixteen year old kid because Negan told them to kill one of us to instill fear and compliance."

"He didn't say kill a kid," I shake my head, "Negan wouldn't do that. Whoever killed him did it because they're sick fucks, not because they were told to specifically kill a kid."

"They were given orders to kill someone," Jesus argues back, "You're right, there weren't any specifics details on who, because it didn't matter who, so long as someone was dead."

"But not a-"

"Does it matter?" Jesus stops and turns to me. "Rory is dead because that's how the Saviors intimidate people into working for them. For Negan."

I stare, wanting to be in denial.

"Hilltop starves on our ration because the Saviors don't care if we do, so long as they and Negan get their half."

I look off, defiant.

"Pippa, I know you don't want to believe it, but it's the truth," He sighs, "I'm your friend. You've been good to Hilltop. Ten times better than Gregory. I'm just trying to give you a heads up to what Halcyon has in store."

I nod my head, feeling the cold on my cheek. "Thanks for bringing me here, Paul." I look up to meet his eyes with a plain smile. "I should go."

He nods, somewhat sympathetic. "Safe travels."

"Thanks." I put out my hand and he shakes it. I look up and notice Gregory staring down from a window. "He's real lucky someone like me doesn't live here."

Paul follows my eyes. He scoffs, humored. "Yeah."

…

The drive home feels longer than the ride to Hilltop. I've got a Billie Holiday Greatest Hits CD in the car which I sing along with here and there with no care in my tone. It's gotten dark and colder.

There's such a weight on my mind, I keep having to shake it. That's when I start to sing to the music.

"All of me!" I bellow out in the car bitterly. "Why not take all of me?!"

A drifter straggles down the empty road. I swerve around it to avoid hitting it. I end up clipping it anyway.

God, I wanna go to bed. I wanna see my boys. I wanna fucking drink. I'm obviously not gonna have one, but man could I use a gin and I'm not talking some fru-fru spritz.

I roll down the window, turning down Billie for the feel of cold air on my face. It always cures me. So do my kids, which is why I'm going eighty in what used to be a fifty-five.

I can smell the chimneys and it brings me a sense of relief and exhaustion. The first night shift see me coming and open the gates.

I park the truck and sling my pack over my shoulder. Home sweet home. I trudge home down the dimly lit streets. Lourdes' house is dark, which means she kept the kids at my house. I smell something good. Fingers crossed it's coming from the house.

I open the door. "Hey, I'm-"

Negan turns his head, looking right at me. "Welcome home, darling."

I stare, speechless with dread.

Lourdes is sitting over with the kids and the dog.

"Hey, Mom!"

"Hey, Abel."

"Did you have fun going-"

"On my run?" I cut him off, peeling off my coat. "Yeah, I did. Thanks for asking." I glance back to Negan. "What are you doing back so early?"

"Your men got our power up and running, so I thought I'd return 'em to you," He looks me over with a little suspicion, "Where've you been? I've been waiting all damn day for you."

"I went on a run looking for meds."

"Alone?"

"Yeah."

"Do you always go alone?" He asks with skepticism in his voice.

"Sometimes, when I need a little alone time," I breezily say, "What smells good?"

"I made dinner," Negan replies, "Thought you'd be home in time to join us, but you weren't, so we gave the leftovers to Lour's pooch."

"Oh, okay," I go to the fridge, "I'll just make myself a sandwich. Sorry I kept you waiting."

"Were you successful?"

"Pardon?"

"Did you find anything?"

"Oh," I hold the jar of mustard, "Yeah, I found some things."

"Medicine?"

"Oh, no, I didn't have any luck there, but I found some other little things."

"Like?"

"Tampons." I lie.

Negan shifts to look at me. "You were out all day for tampons?"

"Yeah, I guess I was," I chuckle, "I didn't have a good day."

"I'll fuckin' say." Negan scoffs, swirling liquid in his glass.

I notice the amber brown liquid he's drinking. "Is that scotch?"

"Man, your nose still can bloodhound alcohol, huh?"

I briefly glance at Lourdes before watching him take a swig. "I don't keep alcohol in the house."

"I had Lourdes get some for dinner from hers."

I bite my lip, keeping my cool. "Well, um, I don't really let it in the house."

Negan downs the rest of it, setting the glass down with an all too familiar sound. "There, it's gone."

I'm not gonna lie; that oddly hurt and I don't think he meant it to. Or maybe he did, which makes the sting all the more searing.

"Mom, did Jesus go home?" Abel asks me.

Negan looks over at him with a flinch of bewilderment before peering over to me for the answer.

"Yes, Abel," I answer with a nod, "Jesus went home...to heaven."

"He's dead?" Abel's voice grows distressed.

"No," I immediately say, "Um…I mean, ye- No. That's the name of his home."

"Oh, okay."

I smile at him and then flicker my eyes to Negan's curiously sharp eye.

"When will he be back?"

"I don't know, but we can talk about it later." I go back to making my sandwich. "So, are you leaving now?"

"It's ten o'clock at night."

"Oh." I nod, before pausing, "Wait, why are the kids not in bed?"

"They wanted to wait up for you," Negan tells me, "Didn't think you'd be this late."

I want to fire back how he could've made them go to bed when it was clear I wouldn't be home as soon as he thought, but I have to be cool.

I take a quiet breath. "I lost track of time."

"You should get yourself a watch, or something."

I bite my lip. "Yeah, maybe."

"Boys, it's time for bed." Lourdes says, practically hostage in this whole thing.

Abel yawns. "Okay."

Jolyon doesn't say anything. He looks over at me in a communicative way, before he moves to the order.

"Mom, are you gonna read me a story?" Abel yawns again.

"I'll be right in," I say to him, "Go ahead and lay down and wait for me."

"Okay." He goes into my bedroom. I know he'll likely be passed out by the time I'm finished making my sandwich.

"Jol." I motion for him to follow.

"But it's not that cold tonight," Jolyon replies, already slipping underneath his covers, "And Negan's staying the night."

"Negan can stay on the couch." I retort without acknowledging Negan's turn of the head, "But if you want, you can sleep in your bed."

Jolyon lays down, rolling over to face the wall.

"Well, I'm gonna call it a night," Lourdes stretches, "I'll see ya mañana."

"Bye, thanks for watching the kids."

She gives me a casual, but telling look. "Night."

"Night."

"Aren't you forgetting to say goodnight to

someone?"

Lourdes looks at Negan with an fake smile. "Sweet dreams."

"How can I not after seeing you walk away?"

She scoffs caustically. "Asshole." She leaves the house.

I shoot him a look, but say nothing. I just go back to making my dinner.

"Wow, nothing?"

"What?"

"I was expecting you to bite my head off for being a dick to Lourdes."

"Oh, well, I wouldn't want to ruin the good time we're having."

"Are we having a good time?" Negan asks. "Because I'm not in the greatest of fucking moods having had to sit here all fucking day for you and you're over there making sandwiches, suddenly preaching gospel to our kids."

I knit my brows. "What?"

"Since when are you religious?"

"I'm not...I don't think," I look over at him, "What are you talking about?"

"Jesus," Negan says in a non-cursing way for once, "Abel was asking about Jesus."

"Oh," I nod, spreading mustard on a slice of bread, "That."

"You a preacher now?"

"No, he...just asked about Jesus…." I bite my lip, thinking, "Because Christmas is coming up and someone mentioned Jesus and Abel asked me who that was and I just sort of gave him a brief run down. That's it."

"Huh…" Negan inspects me, as if trying to decide if he should buy that at all. "You celebrate Christmas?"

I shrug. "Yeah."

"Why?"

"Why not?"

"Sort of seems, I don't know, pointless," He says, "Like maybe there's more important things to worry about than some holiday."

"It's nothing major or even religious for the most part," I tell him, "Just a little community potluck for those who want to celebrate community togetherness."

"Community togetherness?" He makes a face like it's the lamest thing he's ever heard.

"Yeah, food and gift giving...merriment," I nonchalantly suggest, "We even incorporate some Hannakah traditions."

"So, you all just get together in the middle of this place and eat food and what? Sing Christmas carols?"

"We come together as neighbors and have a nice time," I simply say, "We even celebrate New Years, although the kids and I usually do something at home..because of the alcohol."

"Well, isn't that just the cutest fuckin' thing I have ever heard?" Negan huffs tauntingly. "You people really are like Little House on the Prairie."

"Was that like your favorite show growing up, or something?" I cock my brow. "You bring it up a lot."

"You mean to tell me you didn't wait every week for a new episode as a kid?"

"You forget I'm younger than you," I mildly sigh, cutting my sandwich in two, "I didn't watch it until after the show was reruns."

"Fuck you." He chuckles alone.

I offer a soft smile, focusing on my task. I stand at the counter, taking a bite of my sandwich.

"Sit down."

"I'm fine here." I chew.

Negan's eyes gently glance over me.

"The power back on at the Sanctuary?"

"Yep," He confirms, "Your men are aces at fixing shit mine are too stupid to figure out. Sort of an embarrassment when you realize how simple it was to fix."

I nod my head. "I'm glad you aren't in the dark anymore."

"Me, too…" Negan continues to study me, "You're quieter than usual."

"You aren't," I say softly, "Jolyon's trying to sleep."

Negan looks over his shoulder. "Oh, yeah. Wonder if Abel's still awake."

"If we haven't heard him by now, then no."

"Huh." Negan shifts back to normal.

"Blankets are in the closet, if you wanna turn in."

"On the couch?"

I look at him, nodding. "Mhm."

"You know I'm taller than the couch, right?" Negan hikes his thumb back. "My feet hang over the fucking end."

"Curl up and they won't do that." I lick the mayo-mustard swirl off the corner of my lip.

"I'm too fuckin' big to do that."

"You can fit."

Negan rubs his eyes with an exhale. "Can't I just sleep in your room with you and Abel?"

I look up, meeting his eyes and then lowering them. "Um, no, I don't think so."

"Because of the words we had two days ago?"

"Yeah…"

He groans under his breath. "It was a stupid fight, Pippa."

"It wasn't stupid to me."

"It was fuckin' hypotheticals," He moves his hand from his face, looking at me, "Shit that doesn't matter, because it didn't turn out that way. We didn't find each other sooner. We are where we are; it is what it is."

I prop myself up on the counter, grabbing the second half of my sandwich. "Yeah, I guess it is."

Negan exhales again, frustrated. "Pip, if you think for one second that I didn't cry my eyes fucking raw convincing myself that you and the kids were dead, before I wore myself to death looking for you than you're fucking out of your goddamn mind."

"I believe you," I tell him, "Trust me, I do. But you also said you wouldn't change where we ended up."

"I wouldn't change where I ended up."

I look over at him. That's what bothers me. He would still be who he is and do what he does now. To Halcyon. To Hilltop.

"I could have used you around as my right hand."

I scoff a little. "You think I'd be your right hand man?"

"Well, you'd be much more than just my wife."

"Gee, one of your wives? I bite into my sandwich. "What a life."

"I didn't say a wife, I said my wife."

"I heard you."

"I meant you'd be my only wife, asshole."

I look up. "I can't be your only wife now. He'll, I can't even be one of your wives."

"You can," He suggests, "In time."

I huff. "Right, I forgot. You can't give your wives the boot until you no longer worry about looking emasculated in front of people."

"You don't want any PDA from me, because you're afraid of looking like you're wrapped around me."

"Did you just say 'PDA'?" I raise my brow. "Like Public Displays of Affection?"

"Yeah."

"You're not a high school teacher anymore, dude; you can't say things like that now."

"Pardon me?"

"Back at Southcastle High, you could get away with that in an ironic sort of way, but now you just seem like an old man trying to relate to our kids."

Negan lets out a laugh.

"Sh!" I put my finger to my lips, then pointing it towards the kids.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," He chuckles, "But that was fuckin' funny."

"Not as funny as you trying to be cool and talk like the young people."

"Fuck off, you beautiful asshole," Negan grins, "I'll have you fuckin' know that I am the eptipome of cool and have been since before you were a twinkle in your dad's eye."

I wipe my mouth with a cloth napkin. "I'm sure people get extra points for telling you that."

Negan stands up from his chair, tickled, as he walks over. "You think you're real fuckin' cute."

"Mhm." I take another bite of my sandwich. I glance up and I shake my head. "Oh, Negan, no." I extend my foot out to keep the distance. "Go to bed. Stop!"

Negan takes my leg and works his hands up as he comes closer. "What? I'm just bringing my glass to the sink."

"You don't even have the glass with you," I push him away, "Stop, I'm eating."

He takes the remaining crust in my hand and eats it with a smart smile.

"Gross," I look at him in disgust, "I have a cold."

"You do fuckin' not." He tries to kiss me, but I move my head.

"You can't just decide we're in a good mood because I made you laugh."

"Make me laugh some more." He puts his arms around the small of my back.

"Mm, better not," I push on him, "I tend to ruin things every time we start to have fun. Make you look like an asshole."

"I don't give shit," Negan says with a soft huskiness, "I don't like this chilly, aloof, walking on eggshells, Pippa. I want the Pippa that sasses the fuck out of me and gets me angrier than no one else alive." He moves between my legs. "Hotter, too."

I arch my brow at him, before I start to giggle. "You've got mustard on your upper lip."

He chuckles with me.

"You thought you were being so smooth!" I cackle, wiping the smidge of mustard off with my thumb.

Negan smiles at me with his toothy grin. His eyes are bright with humor. "I fuckin' love you, Pippa."

"When you're not hating me."

"I could never hate you, you crazy broad."

"Don't call me a crazy broad."

"Alright, I could never hate you, you sane broad."

I smile, letting him kiss me on the lips.

"Tell me you love me back."

"I can't tell you something that isn't true."

"Damn, you get me so hot."

I hit my head on the cabinet. "Negan!" I touch the soreness. "Every fuckin' time!"

"Sorry," He chuckles, "I got a little excited."

"Yeah, what's new?" I put my arms around him, moving my fingers through his hair.

Our making out gets heavy real quick. I can feel his hands at my jeans and I want them there.

"Are we gonna do this?"

I nod with a feeling of guilt in my belly. "Yeah."

"Scoot forward," He tells me, "I can't reach you."

I move towards him. "Oh," I meet his gaze, aroused, "You forgot to take your gun belt off."

Negan grins. "No, I remembered."

I smirk. "Oh, you're just really happy."

"Happy and hard," Negan pecks my lips, "The two things you know how to make me."

"I could care less if you're happy, I just like it when you're ha-"

"Ew, guys!" Jolyon groans. "I can hear you!"

"Oh, shit," My cheeks redden, "S-sorry, honey!"

Jolyon pulls his blanket over his head with a grumble.

I push Negan back, mortified. "We should go to bed."

"You're forgetting the little one's in there."

I lift my brow. "I meant to sleep!" I whisper sharply.

Negan sighs. "I guess, but I've gotta take care something first."

I look down and exhale, leaping down. "Get your jacket on."

…

"Is this Halcyon's equivalent of makeout point?" Negan asks smartly. "An empty cabin in the woods?"

"It was the old Purtian's cabin," I tell him, "At least that's what the plaque outside says. He lived on the outskirts of town to 'keep himself away from the wicked ways of society.'"

"Huh," He nods, "So, this is where people come to play hide the salami?"

"Yes, this is where people come to picnic."

"Mm, excellent spot, mother."

"Don't call me mother when you're about to do things to me that no one should even think about doing to their mother."

"Did I ever mention that I fucking love the shit out of you?"

"Not as often as you should, because I am a saint for putting up with you."

"Really? Is that why you act like such a fucking victim all the time?"

"Hey, you can make me look like just as much of an asshole as I do you."

"All I heard was 'do you.'" He touches my butt, "How about you and I picnic over there on that bed?"

"You mean the bed that other people have fucked on?"

"It looks clean," Negan says, "The bed's made."

I wince. "Why don't we start a fire and do it on the rug?"

"What is it with you and rugs all of the sudden?" He chuckles. "You think people aren't fucking each other on that thing, too?"

"Yeah...why did I bring you here again?"

"Because we were getting hot and heavy in your pitiful house and Jolyon could hear everything."

"Right…" I look around the dark cabin, "I bet people haven't done it on top of the bedspread, right? People generally get under the covers?"

"Generally."

I nod my head, a little apprehensive. "Alright, fuck it. Start a fire."

"Do you remember that thing I wanted to do years ago and you said we could do it, but we never got to?"

I take off my coat, thinking about it. "You mean you finishing on my tits?"

"Oh, good, you do remember."

"We did that."

"No, we fuckin' didn't."

"Yeah, I remember that."

"I think I wouldn't forget something like that, so no, we didn't."

"I'm sure we did."

"You fucking liar."

"Why is that something that interests you?"

"I like titties and I like seeing my baby batter on 'em."

"Why?"

"I don't ask you why you like married men."

I scowl. "I don't like married men, they like me."

"Boy, do we ever."

I roll my eyes. "It's not a humiliation thing, right? Like you don't get off shaming women by shooting your gravy on them?"

"What?" Negan furrows his brows at me from by the fireplace. "No. I think you asked me this before and I already told you no." He smirks. "I mean, unless that's your thing, in which case I'd be happy to help get you off."

I scoff, sitting down on the bed to take off my boots.

"I just like it when you watch me jerk it to you."

"You're depraved," I sigh, "But I'll admit it does sound kind of hot having someone jerk it to me...at least in front of me with my consent."

"You see, we're two depraved peas in a pod," Negan starts a fire in the fireplace, "If you call that sort of thing depraved. I could think of a lot of kinky shit that makes me wanna repent for just having the knowledge that people are into that shit."

"You know, baby, you're actually not as kinky as you think," I lay back on the bed, with my hands under my head, "I mean, all we ever did was screw around in your office with closed blinds and in your car when no one was around...like private public sex, which is no more risky than fucking someone in the bathroom at a bar, really."

"Who the hell fucks in the bathroom?" Negan shrugs off his coat, looking me over.

I arch my brow.

"Public restrooms are fucking cesspools of bacteria and shit," He goes on, "You're lucky you didn't catch something."

"Are we gonna have the sex, or are we just gonna talk about it?"

"I still can't believe you fucked Yancy."

"Who?"

"Yancy," Negan kicks off his shoes as he undresses, "The guy I got into a fight with at that bar on New Years over your dumb ass."

"How do you remember his name?" I ask, bewildered. "Wait, did you like exchange names before you got into it?"

"No, dipshit, he's one of my guards at the front gates back at the Sanctuary."

I stare with big eyes. "What?"

"Yeah, I thought he looked familiar and then I put two and two together one day. Told him there was no hard feelings but I stuck him on graveyard shift."

"Wow…" Can this world get any smaller? "That was awfully petty."

"Hey, no one fuckin' tells me my woman is good to go and easy as sunday morning and gets away with it," The bed creaks as he towers over me, "I already know all those things about you."

I huff. "Why don't we both shut the fuck up and do this? We're getting way too distracted."

"You started it." He kisses me affectionately.

"No, I didn't, you did."

"Did not."

"Yes, you were the one who asked if I remembered the whole jerking off on my tits thing."

"Yeah, as a suggestion," Negan chuckles, "And then you started in about kinks."

"No, you did!"

"No, I didn't."

"Yes, you did, because you said something about that not being the worst kink out there and I said that we weren't really that kinky and…"

"Aha, see you did start it."

"But then you started talking about bathroom sex, you sick asshole."

"You're the fucking sick asshole who actually had bathroom sex!"

I go to retort, but end up laughing. Negan laughs, too. "Oh, god. How'd we become leaders of anything? How does anyone take either of us seriously? We're just a couple goofballs who like prattling on more than we like sex."

"You can be a goofball and still bring the bat down."

My smile fades a little. The bat. The one right in the corner over there that he claims is just a bat, yet affectionately refers to it as a her with the name of his dead wife. And the very bat he uses to command people to kill others to assert authority. Sixteen year old boys included.

"What's the matter, honey?"

I blink and then pick up a soft smile. "Nothing."

"You tired?"

"No, no, I...I just love you."

Negan smiles, kissing me tenderly. "I love you, too, goofball."

I slip my hands around to his warm back. I feel some grooves towards the middle above his hips. "What happened here?"

"Uh, nothing; I just scratched myself too hard when I was sleeping." Negan sits up, straddling me, as he unbuttons my pants.

I pull them down with him, staring up curiously. "You scratched yourself at night?"

"Yeah, it's winter," Negan sticks his hand under my shirt, "My skin got a little itchy. What's the big fuckin' deal?"

I shake my head, lifting myself enough to take my shirt off and unhook my bra. I pull my panites down as Negan takes off his drawers, gripping his cock. I part my legs, so he can get close enough to enter me when he's ready.

This is makeup sex. I can tell by how tender but hard he's going and how much I want him to, even though we technically reconciled an hour ago. The bedframe is slamming up against the wall. We're at liberty to moan and groan and even grunt as much as we want, because there's no kids around to be quiet for.

Negan's bucking into me like his life depends on it. He slides his hand under me to get me to sit up. He moves back, disconnecting us, just so I can straddle him. I get on top of him and moan as I ease myself down on him.

"Get going." He says, pressing his hand on my back. I ride him with just as much fervor as he was thrusting into me.

Negan kisses my breasts for a moment, but can't seem to bear to do anything but pant out moans as I keep going.

"Fuck, Pippa." He breathlessly says.

I stop for a moment, my insides twitching around him.

He moves us back to the position before, returning to fucking me with so much passion it almost seems like hatred. But it isn't.

My fingers find those scratch marks as I feel myself about to come again. He pulls out of me and begins to work his hand up and down his cock, looking me in the eyes. I stare back, but my finger traipses those marks. He grunts and finishes.

He breathes heavy and relieved with his eyes closed. "Goddamn."

"Satisfied?"

He opens his eyes, still panting. He chuckles a little, before kissing me and rolling off to the side. I look at him, also catching my breath.

"How rude of me," Negan looks down my body, "Let me get you something." He turns to get out of bed. The scratch marks on his back are small, harsh lines. I stare at them quietly.

"Here you go, my dear."

I take the cloth he's extended me and use it to clean up.

He leans down and takes my lips with his. "You are a goddamn beauty, you know that?"

"I've been told."

He smiles. "Scooch over."

"What?"

"I said scooch," Negan lifts up the blankets, "I wanna rest for a minute before we head back."

"I am not sleeping here." I tell him, moving over. "I can't believe you're actually getting under there.

"It's clean," Negan smells the linens, "Whoever was here last washed 'em."

That being the case, I slip under the covers with him. They do smell fresh. How polite.

Negan put his arm around me, snuggling up. He breathes contently against me. "I love you."

"I know."

"We gotta stop fighting, you and me," He says, "I don't like being mad at you, which is probably why I always cave."

I scoff lightly. "You just hope it'll lead to sex."

He snickers softly. "I'm not usually wrong."

I exhale, mildly frustrated.

"But seriously, you're my best friend, Pip," Negan says, "I fuckin' mean that. There's no one else I'd rather be around twenty-four seven, through thick and thin, yelling and fucking laughing two minutes later with than wih you."

I remain quiet, softly combing my fingers through his hair.

A booming pound on the door makes both of us jump. I can hear the growling of drifters outside, trying to get in. They must have heard the bed hitting the wall.

"Shit!" Negan gets up. "Come on, we gotta go. Get dressed."

I move off the bed and as I gather up my clothes, I see them outside through the window. "Negan."

"Yeah, just let me put my damn pants on."

I put my hand on his shoulder.

"Pip, I'll take care of 'em, just give me a…" He stops talking when he sees what I see. There's gotta be at least fifty of them out there. "Ah, fucking hell."

Thanks for reading! Happy New Year!