Jessa looked around her house and yawned. She'd only just returned from a supply run, and after stopping to confer with the next group set to leave, marking the map to show areas she'd found tapped out, she came inside to consider resting. Then she thought of the fact that she hadn't seen Angel in over two days and her arms ached from the emptiness.
She picked up her walkie to send for her, but was interrupted by Andrew. He was on gate duty. "J?" She answered that she heard him. "Got a large group here, wanna talk to you. Say they're from Alexandria?"
Ah. Jessa was used to that, new communities coming across theirs during their own runs, or her coming across theirs. She tended to steer clear of other compounds. The others inevitably showed up here though. It's how their entire population had grown, herself included. She closed her eyes and pinched the bridge of her nose. Best not think about the past right now.
"A? Have Margie bring them to me, you know how things are run here." Code for: Let them keep their weapons, but EVERYONE be on alert. Eyes on the newcomers. Jessa wasn't stupid. She knew people could be more dangerous than walkers. "How many?" She saw the sun dipping below the horizon, getting late for visits. "A? You gonna give me a head count? Gotta make sure I have enough lemonade."
"Sorry, J. Was counting." Andrew chuckled. "Looks like you're having eight over for drinks."
She considered the number and the available shelter. "Have Sandra make sure 12 is stocked and ready? And do it by foot, she never has the damn walkie on." Then she sighed. "Bring them on over, Margie." She knew her step-sister was listening. She was as on top of things as Jessa was.
Jessa sighed again. Fuck, she thought, don't let these Alexandrian's bring trouble. They'd found the best community she'd ever seen in this mess of an apocalypse. An actual brick wall and a fucking gate already in place, not to mention the solar panal system and water filtration system. When she and Margie first came across it, she'd wondered if the whole damn community hadn't been planned by doomsday preppers. Then she'd found the fields of vegetables and felt confirmation. It was planned by them, but never sold one single fully furnished house. Shit, she felt like she'd died and found nirvana.
She got the huge dining room table set for her guests, ten glasses, two pitchers of tea and lemonade, and twelve chairs. The knock came as she took the seat at the head of the table.
"Come in." She yelled, knowing Margie would hear her.
Her sister walked in front, and Jessa noticed that none of her guests were looking around in envy or awe. Good, she thought, they clearly had a similar set up. That would hopefully keep everyone sensible. Margie took the seat to her right, and Jessa gestured for the others to follow suit. They all stood, making the situation all the more awkward.
"Good evening," she greeted them. Rolling her eyes at them lurking, she huffed. "Please sit. I'm fucking exhausted and you're all heavily armed. I think you're all safer than me at this point."
A man who looked tortured within his own body, gave a snort. He was the only one who didn't sit. More content to walk around, and the gun looked uncomfortable in his grip. Jessa was curious, but shrugged it off. He seemed familiar, the haunted look he shot her.
Instead of asking him anything, she addressed her questions to the man seated opposite her, at the foot of the table. "Are you this group's spokesperson?" He started to answer, but a dark skinned woman at his side stopped him. She had a katana strapped to her back and sounded fierce.
"Are you?" She asked, and Jessa grinned.
"Jessa Angeles," she answered, nodding. "Duly elected leader of Willowbrooke. Could I offer all of you a drink?"
Suspicion was clear in their eyes. Jessa fought against rolling her own. Margie, far better at gaging these situations and how to make them less tense, picked up her glass and filled it halfway with lemonade and tea. "Arnold Palmer, anyone?" She asked, taking a long sip.
Jessa filled her own glass with plain lemonade. She took a sip, and then the fever pitch of a group expecting to be poisoned, lowered a bit. "Now, where were we?"
"We're here," the man seated opposite her spoke. "To ask you to join us."
Jessa's eyes widened. "Leave our community?" She asked, thinking he must be insane. "Why would we do that?"
He shook his head. "No, join us to fight Negan."
Jessa was happy she'd already set her glass down, because she knew her hands had begun to shake. A name she wanted desperately to forget, even if his face was always near the surface. She felt Margie's hand take hers on top of the table. It didn't go unnoticed, nor would her obvious paling at the mention of his name.
"You know who I'm talking about." He accused. "He and his Saviors," he bit the word out. "They must be getting tribute from y'all as well."
"They aren't." Margie answered, still holding her sister's hand. "They leave us alone."
This shocked the group. Jessa took a deep breath and looked at Margie. She asked her to bring Angel to her, and while her sister wanted to stop her, she gave Margie a comforting squeeze. As her sister left, she looked around the group.
"You're a wee bit presumptuous." Jessa's gaze landed on the leader. "You come in asking for help against your enemies. I don't even know who you are."
The leader gave a harsh chuckle. "We're from Alexandria." He started. "It's a community almost exactly like yours." Jessa nodded, she expected as much. "I'm Rick Grimes, I suppose I'm the leader." He looked almost abashed. "The others-" He gestured and they all gave their names. The warrior with the sword was Michonne. The boy with the eye bandaged his son, Carl. The others she'd work to recall, and the man pacing the walls, Daryl.
Jessa mentioned that the woman who'd left was her sister, Margie. She left it at that. As they waited, Daryl asked the million dollar question.
"Who's Angel?" He demanded, his voice rough, as though he didn't speak much. "Sounds like a trick."
Jessa smiled. "A trick?" She shook her head. "Our community only employs archery as a defense. Arrows are quieter than bullets and easier to find or make. Knives are a second, less popular weapon, as I prefer my people not get that close to walkers." She watched as this information flowed around them. "If we didn't welcome you, you'd be dead. Simple and easy. Without coming closer than ten yards." She smiled again. "We welcome people here because every decision may start with a conversation with me, but it'll be decided by a full vote of our citizens. We're a full democracy, and yes, I am the leader, but my vote comes only in the event of a tie. You'll have the chance to ask our people tomorrow. That's when our last supply run will be back."
They heard the front door open and the gurgle of a baby trying to form its first words. Silence fell completely as Margie turned into the dining room with a dark haired, dark eyed baby of about a year old. Jessa's smile grew as she held open her arms. "There's Mama's Angel." The baby reached for her mama with a gummy grin, and Jessa cuddled her to her chest. Breathing in her sweet baby smell, she looked up over the dark hair sticking up on her baby's head. "Alexandrians, meet Negan's daughter, Angelina."