If I'd assumed that Negan and me plus that damn bed of his would make us fucking husks, literally, then I'd not considered the challenge he'd take upon knowing that we'd be forced into celibacy for six weeks after Satan's eagerly awaited grandchild showed their tiny being. And damn it if he didn't take that fucking challenge seriously.
Every moment that wasn't spent apart, was spent enjoying one another to the fullest extent of our abilities. And I have to say, I'd never tapped into half of my abilities. There wasn't a surface, horizontal or vertical in our rooms that was safe. The bookshelves, how many books tumbled to the floor as he pounded into me, causing noises that I'd never thought I could make flow from me? Or that fucking table we ate at, would it ever look the same to me after being bent over it, Negan's teeth marking my shoulder as we came together one of the only times he could stand to not have me facing him? The bed, of course, the walls, most definitely, the shower, the bathtub, the floor, every inch that we could be pressed into, we were.
And, as surprising as his ardor was at the news, my return of it nearly took his fucking breath away. That I was as insatiable for him, that I wanted him as badly, this we could show. But those three little words, the ones we kept tap dancing around, those were still elusive. Physical love, that was simple. Letting Negan know that he owned me, bodily, was as easy as breathing or kissing him. But that he owned my heart? Well, that wasn't easy for me, and it was made more difficult by his inability to use the words himself.
We made love, so many ways, places, and I could swear that even with multiple showers and baths, we carried the scent of one another around like the strongest colognes in the world. That as surely as him branding me, every person knew for certain that I belonged to him, and he to me.
It came in as a horrible shock, that our bubble of feelings and adoration, didn't keep us safe. It happened as the third month of my residence in the Sanctuary passed. Negan was getting the tray holding our dinner from the delivery guy, as I handed back the dishes from lunch, when I noticed the puzzled look on his face. I joined him as he sat it down on the table and let my own focus follow his. The tray looked practically normal. I say practically, because whomever had made it, nearly got it right. The plates held nearly the same thing, but not quite.
Negan, since that first meal, had ALWAYS had the exact same meal as I did. I still hadn't asked if the rest of the community did as well, still too cowardly to hear if it was so. Yet this meal had subtle differences. An added garnish to his plate, which we knew was meant for him because of the tiny tag attached, some extra grape tomatoes to the small salad. And I knew that he felt the same chill as I felt. This was wrong. So horribly wrong.
I saw him swallow hard and his fist clench. "Do you think it's yours that's poisoned, or mine?" He growled, meeting my eyes.
"Both," I whispered, feeling completely certain. "Whoever made the plates, they'd know that if I wanted something different from your plate, you'd give it to me, or if you saw that yours had more, then you'd switch." I closed my eyes and fought down the urge to throw up. "So they had to make sure, and that means, they're both poisoned."
He took a deep breath, and sat down on the chair I usually took. Pulling me onto his lap, he kissed my forehead. "They're fucking dead. Whoever they are." My heart was pounding so hard that I knew he could feel it, if not hear it. "Why would someone do this?"
"Frankie," I answered, knowing immediately. "She's being forced to work in the kitchens, so she'd have access." As for the poison, I couldn't know, because there was no way to know what she'd used.
He nodded, his hand rubbing my back, my bump was starting to show and his other came up to cup it. "Tanya works for the good doctor," he added, thinking along the same lines as me. "She looks about as fucking happy as-" he tried to swallow back another growl. "Come on," he put me on my feet in front of him. "Let's go give the Sanctuary a show."
Before we left, I made him take away all signs that the meals weren't identical. Using a napkin, since we weren't sure what they'd doused our food with, he tossed the garnish and the extra 'treats' in the trash, and took up the tray. And I picked up Lucille, and we made our way to the kitchen after he'd asked Arat to gather everyone in the cafeteria, especially Frankie and Tanya.
Downstairs, the group of Negan's people were waiting. I saw the redhead and the doctor's assistant waiting as well, in front of the crowd, but looking unconcerned. It was a good front, but I could see the fear in their eyes, they knew what was coming. Or they thought they did.
"Ladies and gentlemen," Negan's voice rumbled as they all hit their knees. "Get up, and listen very fucking closely." He sat the tray down on the table in the center of the masses, and took Lucille carefully from me. Propping her over his shoulder, which for once wasn't encased in leather, since we'd been dressed for dinner alone, he glanced around the room. "Why do rules exist? Because without rules, the world is fucking chaos." He kept his eyes moving, but every now and then he'd touch me. My arm, my hand, just letting me know that he was with me. "And punishment? That's the consequence for breaking the fucking rules." He sighed, and Lucille came off his shoulder and he handed her back to me. "Now some rules are so fucking obvious they shouldn't fucking have to be explained, but I guess I fucking thought too highly of you all." I watched as he motioned to Arat and Laura, who'd apparently been brought up to speed by Arat about Negan's request for his former wives' presence. Arat grabbed Frankie's arm, and Laura took Tanya's and ushered them forward. "I gave these two women the fucking world. I gave them the fucking keys to the fucking kingdom. And when I found the ONE fucking woman who could give me EVERY single fucking thing I could ever want, I gave them a new purpose." He was glaring at them, as I held Lucille casually. I could see their eyes flicker from him to me and then to the bat. "Callie could have asked for you both to be fucking exiled. She could have insisted that I toss you out and let you TRY to fucking survive out there. She was benevolent, she was kind." I was thinking that I hadn't asked because I hadn't considered it, but OK, make me sound merciful. "And the two of you let your fucking envy overrule your fucking brains."
"Unwritten rules aren't supposed to NEED to be written, but fuck if I'm not being forced to fucking ANNOUNCE one." He took my hand and held it up, kissing my knuckles. "This woman, Callie Grimes, is your fucking Queen. She's carrying my fucking child inside of her, right now, and that means that she's doubly fucking protected. You touch her, you die. You look at her anyway that I deem fucked up, you die. And-" he refocused on the two women standing before him with Arat and Laura glaring at the back of their heads. "If you TRY to fucking poison her, you will fucking die."
"Arat, Laura, help the ladies take a seat, it's dinner time." And I watched as the two women who apparently plotted to fucking kill me, my baby, and Negan sit like the fucking chairs were on fire. "Take up those forks, and eat. Every single fucking bite." A hush was all around us, but Frankie looked up at him with defiance in her eyes. "EAT!" He demanded, and she closed her mouth on whatever rebuttal she had planned. The two of them picked up their forks, and ate. It didn't take long. The plates weren't even halfway gone when their mouths began to foam, and not long after that they were choking, and then, as we all watched, first Tanya, then Frankie died.
Negan pulled me to him and kissed my forehead. "Arat, Laura, add these two the our outer wall security, at least now they're fucking useful." He pulled away and looked around him at the still gathered population of the Sanctuary. "They didn't fucking care if they killed me, do you see that? The proof? Let this lesson stand. Who are you?"
The echoes of voices saying "Negan" rushed over me. And I felt the ease of breathing again. Without fear, at least for now.
The crowd dispersed, and Negan tugged me toward the kitchen. Food, we still needed to fucking eat. As he gathered together something that would constitute dinner, I hopped up onto a counter. Lucille lay next to me, and I watched him move as casually around this industrial sized kitchen as he had the one back in Alexandria. We ate at the counter, he situated himself between my legs and fed me bites as he ate too.
"I think I want to expand our apartment," he said, plopping a strawberry into my mouth. "We're gonna need more room when they arrive, and I think I want us to have a kitchen up there." I nodded as I chewed. "I'll get some people on it, tomorrow."
We ate through our fresh and raw dinner, the tension of nearly being assassinated rolling off of us as we enjoyed one another's company. "Do you even have the appliances to make a kitchen up there?" I asked, as he helped me down from my perch.
He took Lucille into one hand and my hand in his other as we walked out of the room. Arat and Laura were the only two waiting in the main room. They followed us as we made our way back to our rooms and Negan was telling me just how easily he could furnish a kitchen, a nursery, and any other fucking rooms I wanted to add to our floor.
As we walked back into our rooms, Arat and Laura took position on either side of our door. Great, I thought, door guarding was making a fucking comeback. And fuck, he'd probably become more unbearably protective now. But, that tiny overthinking part of my brain chimed in, after that fucking scare would that be suck a bad fucking thing?
I was right and wrong about Negan's reaction after the attempt on our lives. He did decide that door guards were a temporary necessity, but he also made sure that I knew that I still wasn't a prisoner in our rooms. And, as he woke me the next morning to remind me of our celibacy preparations, I realized that it was a small price to pay. For safety. For peace of mind.