"Do you have any threes?"

"Go fish."

"Dang it."

"Do you have any fives?"

"Um…" Abel softly counts to himself, "Yeah, here."

"Do you have any twos?"

"Hey, ask Dad next!"

"Give me the two, Abel."

"You can't ask me again after you already asked me!"

"Yes, I can," Jolyon says, "Now, give me your two."

"Fine!"

"Real mature."

"Don't be such a sore loser, kid."

"I don't like losing!"

"I get that, but it's just Go Fish."

"I haven't won any!"

"Do you have any sixes?" Jolyon asks. "Abel?"

"Go Fish," Abel replies, "Jerk."

"Hey, knock it off." Negan warns.

"Abel, come taste this soup for me."

I hear his footsteps as he walks over to me in the kitchen. I shift when he's stopped at my side. I fill the spoon with broth and bring it down to his lips with caution.

"Careful, it's hot."

He touches my hand as he drinks from the spoon.

"I think it needs rosemary. You tell me."

"Um, yeah. It needs rosemary."

I smile. "Thanks."

I know he doesn't really know if the soup needs rosemary or not. And I know he knows that. It's just a thing I do sometimes whenever he's being a four-year-old.

My eyes glance over to the coffee table. "It's your turn?"

"Yeah." He pouts.

I smirk. "Your dad has a three."

Abel looks up at me and I wink and send him to go finish playing the game. I turn back to the pot when he walks away. I add the rosemary and stir. The steam from the pot draws sweat from my scalp and face.

"Dad, do you have any threes?"

"Lucky guess."

"Jolyon, do you have any sevens?"

I put the lid on and clean up around the kitchen by myself. Cooking used to be something I hated to do, which is why I always cooked whatever was the easiest, but now that I'm sober and living in a time where there's no take-out; I really have come to enjoy cooking. I don't enjoy cleaning up the huge ass mess though.

Something from the window catches my eye as I sweep some flour that had fallen off the counter into a pile. I watch as two hard-looking men stalk into one of the buildings across the street.

"Need any help?"

I keep my eyes on the window. "No."

"You sure?"

I breathe and go back to sweeping. "You wouldn't help even if I said yes."

"I offered, didn't I?"

"I've got it," I say, "Boys, I want you to start your math homework."

Negan lifts the lid off the soup. "Smells good."

"Mhm."

"Abel told me you helped him cheat."

I shrug. "He's four."

"It's still cheating and no one likes a cheater." He tries to joke.

"I don't think people like you should say that."

He hands me the dustpan. "Don't you mean people like us?"

I take it from him. As I go to move, he grabs the broom handle, causing me to halt at the tug. I look him in the eye.

The door to the house opens and that blonde woman and another Savior barge in. We both look over at them.

"We're here to take inventory." The blonde reports.

"That won't be necessary," Negan says to her, "This house is off limits."

I look back to him.

"Copy that." The woman says before she and the other guy start to leave.

"No," I call out, "Go ahead and search the place." I break eye contact with Negan to properly address his goons. "Would you like us to stand outside while you look around?"

Both of them look to their leader for instruction. Negan's eyes bear into me, unpleased.

"We're no exception," I say, "If you search their homes, you search mine. That's only fair."

He breathes out, nostrils flared. He then allows for them to go about their work with a cool nod.

"Boys, come do your work at the table," I pull the broom from his grasp, "Let the nice people go through our personal things."

After I sweep up the mess into the dustpan, I sit down with the kids to get out of their way as they search the place. I watch them open up the cupboards and pantry. The guy tells the blonde woman what he finds and how much of it, and she writes it down on a clipboard. My attention focuses on Negan when he pulls back a chair across from Abel and sits down. Our eyes meet, but I don't give them daggers like I wish I could. Instead, I keep my eyes aloof and soft, which expresses volumes.

"What does that say?"

I look over. "It says: Draw the number ten and then draw ten spiders."

"Thanks."

"You're welcome."

"Can I draw ten ants instead?"

"It says for you to draw ten spiders."

"But there's never ten spiders hanging out," Abel argues, "And there's always a bunch of ants together."

"What about when we lived in that barn for the winter?" Jolyon says. "Lourdes and Nanda put that thicket over the broken part of the roof and it was infested with spiders. We slept up on that platform in the rafters and woke up with them all over us."

"I don't remember that."

"Abel was only a year old at the time, Jol."

"Oh, yeah."

I smile, remembering that morning all too well. Nanda spent the whole day asking Ravinder to check her hair for spiders and fearing the possibility that spiders either crept into our ears to nest, or that we swallowed some in our sleep. She had the heebie-jeebies all day; freaking out if she felt so much as a slight itch or breeze on her skin.

"Lourdes said if we ate any in our sleep it was just protein we needed."

I chuckle with Jolyon. "I'm almost certain at least one of us accidentally ate a spider."

A cupboard door slams shut, making us all look over as the Saviors move onto the next one. I'm annoyed, but I ignore it. It was likely an accident.

"So, can I draw ants instead?"

"No, you need to follow the directions," I tell Abel, "Part of good learning is following the lesson."

"Lame."

"Shush, do your work."

"Can you check this one?" Jolyon slides his paper down the table towards me.

"Sure." I reach for it.

Negan places his hand on it to pass it down, but he pauses. "Isn't multiplication a little advanced?"

I take the paper from him. "It's just the basic time tables. He completed all the requirements for his age two months ago, so I figured he was ready to move on." I smile, pushing the paper back to Jolyon. "Looks good."

"Thanks."

I rest my head in my hand. "He gets it from his father."

Jolyon looks up from his work.

"His dad was a whiz at all things STEM."

"Read this one, please."

I lean closer to Abel, ignoring another loud cupboard door shut. "Draw the number eleven and then draw eleven crescent moons."

"Thank you."

"Alright, kitchen's counted for," The blonde woman says, "Let's check around over there." The two move to the living room.

"Dad, do you know how to draw croissant moons?"

"Crescent, Abel," I snicker, "A croissant is a pastry."

"I wasn't asking you, Mom; I was asking Dad."

I look over at Negan in question, before I catch sight of the blonde woman, Laura, I think, peeling back the covers of Jolyon's made bed. I almost tell her to leave it alone, but I can't, so I don't. Jolyon looks over his shoulder and sees it, too, then looks at me. I try to convey it's alright with just a look. He goes back to his homework.

"It's like drawing two backwards C's and linking them together at the ends. Like that."

I look away from the Saviors lifting up my couch cushions to peer down at Negan's drawing. Not bad, but then again it is just two C's linked together.

Abel takes the pencil back. "Like this?"

"Yeah, you got it."

"Cool, thanks."

"You are very welcome." Negan smiles. It's one of those smiles that lights a fire, so I look away.

My eyes draw back to the Saviors in my house. They open the bathroom door and take a short look around, since it's just a toilet, a sink, a mirror, and a stand that holds our toiletries. I knit my brows when they head into my bedroom.

Negan's head turns in the same direction. He glances back to me, but I don't say or illuminate any thoughts to him. He, however, gives off a notion of this is what you wanted. The sound of drawers being pulled out thickens the tension.

"Mom, when are they going to leave?" Abel whispers to me.

"They're almost done."

"And then you're leaving, Dad?"

"He'll be back soon," I answer instead of Negan, "The first of the month is in two weeks."

"But what about Christmas?" Abel looks at me. "You said it was next week."

I briefly glance at Negan.

"Mom."

I smile back at Abel. "We can talk about Christmas later."

"Isn't Dad gonna come?"

"Finish your homework." I get up from the table. "Soup's about ready. I know it was for dinner, but there's enough to last us about three meals." I grab the ladle and some bowls from the cupboard. "Anybody want a bowl?"

"You said to finish our homework."

"So, you aren't hungry, then?"

"No, I am."

"Alright," I set a bowl of soup down on the table, "Move your homework aside. Jol, you want any?"

"Sure."

"Here you are." I bring a bowl over to him.

"Thank you."

"You're welcome."

"We're done here," Laura informs Negan, "The others should be finishing up."

"Gather up all the paperwork for me," Negan tells her, "I wanna look it over before I go."

"Roger that."

"Pippa?

I look over after the two make their exit.

"Can I have a word with you?" He hikes his thumb towards my bedroom.

"I was about to sit down to eat."

"Well, since you're already up," He stands, "Now's perfect timing to go chat."

I almost protest, but not wanting to argue yet again in front of the kids, I follow him to the bedroom. Jesus, those fucking assholes really did go through my drawers.

"Shut the door?"

I close it behind me, staring at the clunky, half-open drawers of my dresser. "You know, I have exactly fifteen pairs of underwear and three bras."

Negan looks at me with a puzzled look on his face.

"I'll know if any have gone missing."

He huffs. "You think Laura or Jack raided your drawers?"

"I don't know, but seeing as they came into my bedroom and rifled through my dresser, I'd be a fool not to count my knickers."

"Can't be hard to keep track of such a small inventory."

I scoff. "It's not like I can just go down to the store and buy more."

"You know, I might have some things for you to wear."

I curl my lip in disgust. "I don't want anything from your wives' boudoir."

"Shame."

"What did you bring me in here for?" I cross my arms. "And keep your voice down. The walls are thin."

"I've been thinking." He says.

"Oh, dangerous game you're playing."

He smirks briefly. "I was thinking that since you celebrate the holidays for no goddamn reason, that maybe I…"

I raise my brow, listening.

His eyes scan mine. "...Could celebrate with you and the boys."

"Why would you want to do that?" I ask him. "If there's no reason to celebrate the holidays anymore, then why do you want to have Christmas with us?"

He exhales, frustrated with my tone, no doubt. "Because I've got a reason to now, don't I?"

I stare, arching my brow just a little more.

"Look, maybe I don't see the point, but if it's something the kids like to do, then I'll join in," He says, "If you'll let me."

I look down in thought. I'm not sure how I feel about that, or if I even like the idea.

"We don't get to do a lot as a family," Negan adds, "We've just been seeing each other once a month for pickup and I think it'd be nice if we could have one day where we can actually be a family and all the complicated shit freezes its ass off in the cold outside."

I blink, picking up my gaze. His eyes are sincere enough.

"Pip, I know you're mad, but get over it," He tells me, "What's done is done. Let's put it behind us."

"Easy for you to say."

"Oh, please, this was nothing," Negan points his bat towards the window, "It's just inventory."

"We take our own inventory," I argue, "You know that, you've seen it."

"Yeah, well, I wanted a full inventory. That means everything."

"Is what your Saviors and your workers have in their cupboards inventory, too?"

"No, but I know everything that is and was in my inventory and I want to know the same fucking thing for Halycon."

"That's why I do the books."

"Yeah, but what you know and what I know could be two totally different things."

"I know you're an asshole."

He scoffs. "Yeah, I figured that one out a long time ago."

"So, it is a trust thing? You don't trust me."

"I have a full inventory of every other place I look out for and-"

"Oh, don't start that heroic crap again."

"And now I want full inventory of yours."

"Why?" I put my hands up. "Why now? Why didn't you just do it before?"

"Because you wouldn't allow it and I wanted you to take me back here, so I could see my son."

"Oh, so you had to lie, because I'm a manipulative bitch?"

"You are a manipulative bitch," He chuckles, "It's one of your best and most annoying qualities."

I don't share in the amusement. "You don't trust me."

His eyes search my face, but I feel as if he's really just searching for the right words. "You said so yourself; you'd do anything, whatever it takes, for those boys. Including underhandedly wedging a divide between the previous leader and the community."

"I-"

"You know what you did, Pippa," He cuts me off, "And I respect the hell out of you for doing it, but that doesn't mean I'm gonna sit here and pretend like you wouldn't try to pull the wool over my eyes, even in the smallest of fucking ways."

My nostrils flare and my eyes are fiercely locked on him. "Well, get this through your thick skull; I'm not lying to you. I have never once lied to you since we started this whole fucking transaction. I've lost my cool, sure, and I've put up lip when I didn't like something. But I haven't lied to you about inventory, or anything else."

Negan eyes go searching again, but this time to test my integrity.

I huff, going over to fix the drawers those pricks left a mess. "And you want to have Christmas with us."

"Oh, come on, don't be petty."

"You forget who you knocked up."

"You know, it wouldn't hurt me," He says, "But I could think of someone else it could hurt. Maybe two."

I turn halfway. "Wow, talk about manipulative."

"We're the same, you and I."

"You forget who holds the power, here," I shove my top drawer shut, "And a sinking suspicion you're bluffing; you really want to come to Christmas and it would hurt you if I denied that to you."

"Maybe, but either way it would hurt Abel."

I shift away to adjust the other drawers.

"Pippa, you and I are going to see each other and work together no matter if you let me join in the festivities," He reminds me, "You can be mad at me for as long as you want, or you can be an adult, suck it up, and be civil."

"Again, easy for you to say."

"So, is that a no?"

I glance over my shoulder. "I don't think people will like you intruding."

"It's not an intrusion if I'm invited."

"I don't know, Negan," I shut the bottom drawer, "I'll...think about it. Right now, I've got other shit to worry about."

"You'll give me an answer before I leave."

"Is that a question or an order?"

"Whichever you want it to be."

I scoff, below my breath. "Are we done here?"

Before he answers, I go to the door and exit. The kids are still at the table eating their soup.

"Were you having sex?"

I look across the room at Abel. "What?"

"You and Dad closed the door," He says, "To have sex?"

"Uh, no," I scoff, "And, excuse me, but don't ask people that. It's rude."

"Sorry," Abel goes back to his soup, "I was just wondering."

"Well, mind your own business, please."

Negan moves around me. "Your mom's right. Don't be a nosy parker."

"Well, you said-"

"Shut your chili hole and listen to your mom."

"I'm not eating chili."

Negan chuckles. "Don't be a smartass."

I go back to the table and sit beside Abel. I look down at my empty bowl. "Did you eat my soup?"

"I was hungry and it was getting cold."

"Rude."

"It was getting cold!"

"Here."

I look up to Negan's offering hand.

"I'll get you another bowl and then myself a bowl, since you failed as a hostess to offer me any."

I know by his tone that he's trying to lighten the mood. I want to get up and insist on getting more soup myself, but I think of the kids and reluctantly hand him my bowl. He grins, taking it.

…

The Saviors take another thirty minutes before they come knocking on my door again to fetch Negan. The boys put on their jackets and walk with us to the front where the Saviors parked. Luckily, I don't have to talk much to Negan. Abel talks his ear off the whole walk there. Jolyon and I hang back, walking in mutual silence. It's almost too cold to talk out here. Like always, I get looks from all angles, but I deserve it and I know I'll have to answer for myself when the gates close on the Saviors driving off down the road.

Negan stops at the truck he came in. "Well this is where I leave you. For now."

"Are you gonna come to our house for Christmas?" Abel asks him.

"That would be up to your mom." He looks over at me and so does Abel.

I scowl at him, before briefly looking down at Abel. I nod curtly.

Negan smiles. "Guess I'll be home for Christmas."

"Yay!" Abel high-fives him. "We're gonna have so much fun."

Negan's smile grows mild. "Can't wait."

"You don't have to get us anything," Abel says, "You can just come."

"Well, I'm sure I can scrape something up, but thanks." He looks over at me. "What time should I arrive?"

I shrug, indifferent. "Whenever."

"Christmas day?"

I nod my head, sighing through my nose.

"What about Christmas eve?"

"What about it?"

"Isn't the best part for parents Christmas morning when the kids come running in, wanting to open their gifts?"

"You've seen one too many Christmas movies."

He stares at me.

I stifle an eye roll. I just want him to leave. "Just come around five Chisrtmas eve."

Negan's dimples show. "It's a date. A family date." He opens the door to the truck. Before I have time to open my mouth, he points. "Yeah, I heard it. It sounded creepy, but you fuckin' know what I mean."

The engine fires up and so does all the rest. Negan's arm hangs out the window. "'Til next time."

"Bye." Abel waves.

Negan winks at me, before they all leave. I wait for the gates to close before I take my eye off that fixed mark.

I turn around and everyone is looking at me. When I asked Negan to let it be me, I thought I was volunteering for a beating, or other painful punishment. I should have realized that Negan's a sharp thinker and can come up with something way worse than giving me a couple lashes in public. He agreed to let it be me. He agreed to let it be me that told the rest of Halcyon that the Saviors would be going through our homes afterall and we were to comply without argument.

It doesn't matter that the Saviors weren't going to find anything that could put us at risk. It was an invasion of privacy and I told them all it was going to happen. I didn't ask, I ordered and they obeyed because they respect me. At least they did until then.

"Jol, take Abel home."

"But I-"

"Now."

I watch as they walk off towards the house before I can address all who have stayed.

"I know you're all angry," I begin, "And you have every right to be. I know this debt we owe is taking its toll on everyone, trying patience, but I promise we'll be in the clear soon enough."

"What sort of debt means they can just go through our homes?" Jim asks. "We've made good on our payments, worked maintenance at Negan's factory. It seems like all they do is take and want more."

"And what about what happened yesterday?" Someone chimes in. "Those people are violent."

"We're violent," Connor shrugs his shoulders, "We've had our share, including with them, which is why we're in this mess."

"We've only ever done what's necessary," Another argues, "We're good people."

"I'm not saying we're not," Connor scoffs, "I'm just saying let's not call the kettle black."

"That redhead caused that fight. That other guy pointed a gun at Pippa!" Jim huffs at Connor. "What if he hadn't given her the chance to back off, huh? What if we would've shot her?"

"Alright, enough!" Martin speaks up. "Look, I know this shit isn't easy to deal with. We've spent the past two years with our heads in the clouds, thinking we were hot shit, because Pippa pushed us to go farther than we had been before she got here."

I look at him.

"But the bottom line is, we got cocky a few months back and now we've got to pay these people back. I've been there. I've worked with the Saviors and yeah, their assholes, but they'll work with us if we stop licking our fucking wounds and grow the hell up."

Martin looks over at me. "You may not like it, but it's a hell of a lot better than constantly looking over our shoulders for them." He nods towards me. "You can thank Pippa for that. She cut a deal that Negan doesn't normally make. And she stopped Pete and Paula from going through our homes long enough for us to go back to East Valley. She looks out for us. Always has."

"She let Negan search our homes," Walter reminds Martin, "She didn't take the same...measures for dealing with him that she did with the others."

"Because Negan is easier to reason with," I finally reenter the conversation, "I can get him to compromise. His lieutenant had an axe to grind with me for killing her men, she was never going to be level. Negan-"

"Is the father of your children," Walter says, "Or, your youngest boy that is."

I cock my brow. "Do you have an issue with that?"

"No, no," He calmly denies, "But I think I speak for a few more than myself when I say that it does raise some concern about whether it conflicts with our best interest."

My eyes move from Walter and fan out across the crowd. Faces in the crowd are a mix of discontentment and doubt."

I look back to Walter. "Negan and I were involved in the past, yes. But the only thing that keeps him close is the fact that he's Abel's father and I can negotiate that to our benefit."

"So, you and him aren't...involved now?"

"We were a fling in the past," I chuckle incredulously, "It was never serious. Like I said, if it wasn't for Abel, we'd have no leverage over him. He might have killed me months ago for what I did."

Lourdes is in the corner of my eye, but I don't look her way. I avoid Rav and Nanda as well. But my eyes do find Martin's, just for a moment.

"I know that my actions have seemed unlike myself, but everything I have done and will do is for Halcyon. There's no ends I wouldn't go to for you. We're keeping the Saviors close, or just close enough, because right now it behooves us to. I want to branch out, but if things don't work out after we've paid the debt off, well...take a trip to East Valley to figure it out what happens next"

The crowd stares at me for a good, long moment. It's unnerving, but I've always been good at keeping a straight face. One person starts to walk off and the rest all diffuse in seperate directions. My eyes fall back on Walt, who lingers before making his way back to his house.

I take a breath and then head for home, past those who stuck around because they believe in me perhaps more than they should.

…

The wind whirls around outside, picking up flakes of snow for a ride. The house is dark, except for an oil lamp at the table, where I strain my eyes looking over the books. The kids went to bed two hours ago. I couldn't sleep, so I decided to do the books now, instead of the morning like I had originally planned.

About halfway through, there's a light knock on the door. I look up and consider whether to open the door or not. A knock comes again, but I remain still. A shadowed figure appears at the window, cupping it's hand to look in. Martin and I immediately make eye contact.

"Let me in?" He says.

I get up with an exhale and open up. "What?"

"Can I come in?" He asks with a chill in his voice. "It's freezing out here."

I reluctantly let him in. "The kids have gone to bed, so be quiet."

"Shit." Martin curses under his breath as he shrugs off his jacket. He hangs it up on the coatrack. "I fucking hate the cold."

"If that's your way of asking for something warm to drink, it's not gonna work. The kettle's too loud."

"I wasn't asking, but thanks for shooting me down anyway," He rubs his hands together, "You doing the books?"

"Yep." I go back to the kitchen.

"Little late, isn't it?

"I couldn't sleep," I tell him, "I take it you couldn't either."

"It's only ten." He shrugs, coming over. "I don't knock out until eleven."

"Why so late?"

"It's eight hours if I wake up at seven."

I nod my head. "What brings you by?"

"I was walking back from Connor's, saw your light was on."

I hold my elbows. "Listen, about today. What you said?"

"It was nothin'."

"It wasn't nothing," I retort, "It was incredible and I don't know how to properly thank you."

"So, don't thank me."

"I have to. You stopped me from being...drawn and quartered out there."

He scoffs, leaning against the counter. "Don't be so dramatic."

"People are pissed and they have every right to be," I look over at him, "Every right to doubt me."

Martin meets my eyes.

"I let them down today," I furrow my brows, "I...I tried to keep the Saviors out of our homes, but I couldn't. It was that, or…"

"Or what?"

I look down at my hands. "Negan punishes the leader by striking their people."

Martin nods a little. "To beat a dog before a lion."

"Stop referring to my redirect team as dogs."

"It's a saying." He snickers.

I stare across the dark room. "I let them think I slept with him for diplomacy."

Martin glances my way.

"Part of me wonders if there's not a bit of truth to that."

"Hey," He nudges me, "Quit feeling sorry for yourself."

"I'm not feeling sorry for myself!"

"Yeah, you are," He scoffs at me, "Yeah, today was not a good day for Pippa Barnes, but it's your own damn fault, so go to bed and get up tomorrow and have a better day. Now's not the time to mope like a dope."

"You're an asshole."

"You're a one person pity party."

"Excuse me, I just had a crowd of my own people look at me like they made a mistake in me."

"So, remind them that they didn't," Martin shrugs, "Don't pout. It doesn't become you."

I roll my eyes. "Goodnight, Martin."

"Night." He walks over to the door.

I follow, frustrated. "Asshole."

"Pardon me?" He turns, putting on his jacket. "Did I just hear you call the one person who stuck up for you an asshole?"

"Yep," I say, "I didn't ask you to do that. In fact, don't do it again."

"Is this how you thank me?"

"No, this is how." I grab him by his jacket and he pauses. I stare into his eyes for a long moment, before I fix the collar. "There. It was sticking up. You looked like a damn vampire."

"Thanks."

"My pleasure."

I go to open the door, but Martin's hand stops me and the next thing I know is Martin's lips gently on mine. Our lips part and I look up at him. He kisses me again and I'm aware of what the five o'clock shadow on his face feels like in my hand. When we part again it is further than before.

Martin's hand touches the back of his head, as if wondering what got over him. I ask myself that question.

"Um…"

"Goodnight." I open the door.

His eyes furrow at mine.

"You should go home," I tell him, "Go to bed, get some rest. It's been a long day."

He looks at me, before nodding his head. He exhales. "Yeah, they left my house a damn mess."

He shuts the door behind, considerate of the boys. I wait by the door for a moment, I don't know what for.

Thanks for reading! Hope you're all staying safe :)