I shouldn't have been surprised at how fucking excited Negan would be to unwrap me from the wedding dress he'd picked. I shouldn't have been shocked at how badly he wanted me, even now as my growing proof of our child was making it damn near impossible for me to see my toes. I mean, Negan ALWAYS wanted me, but our wedding night? After months of having one another any time we felt like it, I'd assumed that it would be just another Tuesday.

The way he looked at me, as more and more of my skin was bared under his hands, was almost like he'd never looked at me before. And maybe he hadn't. Not this version of me. Not as his wife. His partner. The woman that he'd pledged his love to in front of the world. Or at least our world.

I'd never felt more beautiful, or more loved. Standing bare before him, watching his eyes trace every single mark, scar, curve and bump of my body, I wished I knew what he was seeing. Through his eyes.

"You really are mine," he whispered, in awe it seemed. As though he hadn't owned me from day one. As though he hadn't held me in his palm like he'd told me I'd held him. "You gonna tell me what I did to deserve you now, Callie?"

I smiled up at him. Moving closer so I could start unbuttoning his shirt. Sliding it off his shoulders, pulling it off his wrists and letting it fall to the floor. My hands moved to his pants, happy to find only ONE belt. I took the same time and attention he'd given me. Feeling that same awe he must have. This larger than life man, Negan, was mine. Forever. As he kicked off his pants and shoes, since bending down wasn't a great experience for me, I stepped back and studied him. He was gorgeous. Every single inch of him was a miracle to me.

"You were you, Negan." I answered, finally, touching him with my fingertips. His chest, running through the blanket of hair, and up to curl around his neck. "That's what you did to deserve me. You were you."

He scooped me back into his arms as our lips met, and carried me to the bed that he'd had replaced. And there, among blankets and pillows, I totally let him do that thing with his tongue that I like. Over and over.

As we were recovering from the start of our honeymoon, facing one another on the bed he'd made sure was returned, I wanted details of how he'd decided some of the plans for our wedding. The location I understood. Gabe I got. But some of the details, well I wanted to know.

"Why the wine color?" I was talking about the dresses that Michonne and Judith wore, but also there had been other touches, in my bouquet, on the cake.

His hand was still running down my bare skin while the other was cupping my bump. "That's what color you were wearing the first time we met." I had to make sure my mouth stayed closed, because I was fucking shocked that he'd remembered. "You stood on that fucking porch, cockily taking me on, and I just fucking came undone. That fucking shirt, dipping JUST fucking low enough to tempt me, but nowhere fucking near enough to what I wanted from that first fucking word out of your lips." He brushed his against mine to illustrate how much he loved my lips. "That color will ALWAYS remind me of you."

Jesus, and they laughed at my mention of his charm. Fucker had romance coming out of his damn pores. "The dress?" I asked, thinking of it tossed on the floor in front of the door.

Negan's smile was huge, and I nearly gulped. "It showed off all the parts of you that I wanted the fucking world to see were mine." I listened as he used his hand to illustrate. "This," his hand joined the other to cup our baby bump. "I wanted EVERYONE to see that you're fucking RIPE with my baby." I bit my lip, wanting to giggle, but also wanting him to go on. "And," his hands slid up my body, until each one cupped one of my very large breasts. "These, fuck, Callie, I'm almost fucking pissed off that our baby is going to have sole ownership of these fucking beauties when they arrive." He lowered his mouth and kissed the top of each globe, teasing me before he licked down to lavish attention on each peak. "I REALLY fucking hope these stay after our little one gets evicted."

I was biting my lip as he kept going. Other questions, fuck Callie, think. "Your ring?" It came out breathless, but fuck if he wasn't masterful with that mouth of his.

"Rick surprised the shit out of me when he told me he was gonna give it to us." His face was still buried in my flesh, but I could hear him. "But fuck if I'll ever take the damn thing off."

I smiled, letting him keep going with getting me ready for another round. And then, as he was just about to move his head down to remind me of ALL the things his tongue did that I loved, as he kissed my bump, it happened. The baby fucking kicked him right in the nose. I felt it and looking down from where he'd propped up my head on pillows, I saw his eyes widen.

"Shit," he breathed, pressing his face against the bump again and being rewarded with a shot to the mouth. "I felt it!" I smiled down at him, seeing how fucking excited he was. "That's right, little one, that's right. Daddy's here."

And suddenly, sex took a backseat, because FINALLY his hell spawn was giving him what he wanted almost as badly as he craved marrying me. Or, I corrected as I watched him kiss, cradle and talk to our baby, more than.

We left the next afternoon. The goodbyes this time were easier. The promises more readily made for more visits. The happiness truly overshadows any trace of unease.

Once Negan had helped me back into the truck, buckling me carefully, and joining me we started back home. Home. The Sanctuary really was my home now. I was smiling as I watched out of the windshield, determined to pay attention to the route, when Negan's hand reached for mine. I gave it willingly, and let our fingers link.

His eyes didn't leave the road and we drove straight back, no interruptions, no detours, because both of us wanted nothing more than to go home, to our own rooms, and start this new chapter of our lives.

Word had spread before we returned, or maybe an announcement was made, because the entire population was waiting when we drove up. Negan was smiling as he helped me down, and as Lucille took her proper place on his shoulder, my hand took its proper place in his, and we walked through the kneeling people with the same casualness he'd shown the first time. Only this time, I was just as unconcerned as he was.

Our apartment was finished. The kitchen was furnished with a stove, fridge, and our table had been moved to join them. Dishes were in cabinets that had been built fresh. There was a sink and counter tops. Like it had been there the entire time, and we just had to open the door to find it.

When Negan had bragged about how easily they'd found the nursery furniture, I'd assumed they'd raided empty houses. As I looked around at the pile of boxes, I struggled not to laugh. They weren't built. None of it. Not the crib. Not the rocking chair. Not the changing table. Not the dresser, which I took note sitting alone to the side.

Seeing where my attention was focused, he turned me to face him and grinned. "Don't worry, princess, I'm going to build it. For," he touched my bump and was rewarded by another kick. "Them. See, they know Daddy's got this shit covered."

"Have you ever assembled furniture before?" I was still taking in the boxes, there was clearly more furniture than just what I'd assumed, and it looked fucking overwhelming.

"No," he shook his head and I felt my eyes widen. "Can't be too fucking hard, right?"

I had to hold back my laughter. He looked so fucking excited and eager. And PROUD. Fuck. He wanted to do it, so goddamn badly, and I COULDN'T mock that. Not even when every fucking fiber within me was wanting to.

"I can't wait to see it." I offered instead, and kissed him. Hoping he was right. That it wasn't going to be difficult. That I would be able to fucking keep from giggling when, no IF it all went to shit.