Mimi was waiting, as I knew she would be, when I walked into the office off the kitchen. She'd been the one of the house mothers on sorority row and when the world went to shit, she took charge like only someone who corralled a bunch of Greeks could. Mildred Mancuso was the perfect blend of maternal and no nonsense that I counted her as one of my very best friends. She knew that she could say damn near anything to me, and she utilized that freedom often.

I always loved seeing newcomers discover the many facets of the long term residents of Survivors U as I called it. Mimi was always a favorite to watch them come to terms with understanding. At first they seemed awed by her soft kindness. Her caretaking, with the urge to make sure they ate enough, coupled by the fact that she looked strikingly like Ms. Garrett from The Facts of Life always put them at ease. After spending a day or so with Ian, depending on how long Ian deemed necessary for their "orientation", they'd start to see that Mimi while definitely maternal wasn't a soft touch.

I'd watched so many newbies fall into the delusion that Mimi was like their elderly grandma, even if she wasn't nearly that old, who would let them get away with fucking murder or taking more than their fair share coupled with being lazy as fuck and she'd pat them on the heads and call them sweet children. What they got was a thin lipped mother who was waiting after you were out after curfew, coming in drunk, with half your clothes on inside out or backwards.

"Drop him off at Ian's?" She greeted me, a cup of tea waiting along with her famous "kitchen sink" cookies. I rolled my eyes and she laughed. "It's not like you don't have a routine, Meg."

"I know," I groaned, taking my seat and then let out another long sigh. "I'm bored, Mimi. Or I'm boring, one or the other."

She snorted, shaking her head and gesturing at my cup that was still steaming. "Drink the tea before it's cold." I took the cup in hand and took a sip to appease her. "You know damn well you are NOT boring. You're just in a rut. Which is pretty damn hilarious given those three- well two ADVISORS you keep on hand." I should have known that word was out already about John. "Max was bitching about the mess. Greg was whiny about getting John out of his ears."

I chuckled. Dear God, that should horrify me, but it didn't. "Yeah, well, he earned that end." I told her what happened, in case the dynamic duo left the facts out. "Negan reacted faster than I thought possible."

"He reacted like you do." There it was, another fucking reminder of how alike we are, damnit. "He's pretty damn attractive, isn't he?" I took a LONG sip from my cup, hoping for a blister or three to keep from answering. "Megan, you know what I think about these playmates you keep around."

Another sigh built and I set my cup down and reached for a cookie. She didn't smack my hand so I figured I was allowed at least one, because yes, she would deny me a cookie if she was pissed at me. "Is it really so damn bad that I want diversions from my responsibilities sometimes, Mimi?" I bit into my cookie and waited for her sage and judgemental advice.

"You don't want diversions. You want sex without strings," she pulled the cookie plate out of my reach and I knew I had the ONE and ONLY cookie I'd be getting for my visit. "Even if you don't want a family of your own, Megan, you need a partner. Someone you can actually TALK to, discuss what you worry about and the damn boredom you feel."

I swallowed my bite of cookie, deciding that if I was going to be rationed I'd savor it. "I talk to you," ha, take that. "You're not my type for the slap and tickle times, so this is perfect, Mimi, I can compartmentalize."

She rolled her eyes so hard that I was impressed. "You are so damn stubborn that I don't know why I bother half the time." She sighed and took my free hand in both of hers. "Megan Janson, a partner, a TRUE partner is someone you can have ALL of that with-including the slap and tickle. No need to compartmentalize, because that's weird."

"And just who, sage Mimi Mancuso, am I supposed to choose for this partnership?" I knew, somehow that I was asking her to make up my mind for me, because honest to God I wanted to pass the damn buck.

I was back in my rooms, waiting for the inevitable knock to come as darkness fell. Dinner had come and gone, which I'd taken in my rooms preferring to eat alone and in peace after the LONG as fuck day I'd had. I hadn't asked to speak to Greg or Max. I hadn't asked for Ian to check in with me to let me know how our newest resident was doing. All I wanted was a little down time to process everything that Mimi had handed me and to deal with my own shit.

And I napped. I was fucking tired after the lack of sleep and then the shitty version of sleep that I managed. So I napped, on the sofa, using the pillow and blanket I'd given Negan the night before because it was still there, NOT because it smelled like him. That would be ridiculous.

I was sitting curled up on the sofa, wearing soft pajamas and reading a book when it finally came. The knock. Calling out that the door was unlocked, it opened with a whistle and he walked inside, looking for all the world like he did it every single day.

"Don't you look like a fucking vision." He stood behind the chairs, biting his lip and holding my thoroughly clean crowbar. "May I?" I nodded as he gestured to the chair in front of my seat.

"Did Ian show you around?" I knew that Ian changed the tour based on the person he was giving it to, so I didn't ask anything specific.

Negan was grinning as he sat my weapon down carefully on the coffee table between us. "Ian is pretty interesting." That he is, I found myself grinning in answer. "Yeah, he showed me the ropes. Took me through most of the work buildings. The jobs are pretty self explanatory."

"What's the point of getting too damn technical?" I put my bookmark in place and set my book down beside my crowbar. "Any job look more interesting to you than the others?"

His smile grew as he leaned forward and licked his lips. "I told you, Megan, I want to be your advisor."

I shook my head. "And I told you, people don't breach our borders and get invited into my bed."

"People don't, but I think I should." He countered. "I want you. And I'm pretty fucking single minded when I want something, Megan."

"You lost everything once, Negan." He flinched and I wondered just how fucking much he really did lose. "It wasn't just the power, was it?"

"My people," his voice was hushed, his eyes tight. "I made some shitty decisions and my people made some of their own when I fell in my name. It wasn't supposed to happen like that."

"What kind of shitty decisions? What do you regret, Negan?" I was curious. He kept telling me how alike we were, I wanted to know how bad he thought I might be.

He sat back and sighed, clearly hoping for a different conversation when he arrived. "In the clinic earlier," I thought of his flinch when I mentioned a doctor and nodded. "I ruled over a group I called the Saviors. We lived in a place called the Sanctuary. We had a doctor, medicine, stockpiles of shit we found on runs and shit we got through tributes from other communities."

"Tributes?" I raised an eyebrow. "You mean you shook down other communities, mob style?"

He shook his head, and huffed out a breath. "I considered it payment for our aid in keeping them safe." Just like the insurance that mob bosses asked for businesses to give them, I thought, but didn't interrupt him. "I reigned with a heavy hand." His hand, I noticed, was clenched on the arm of the chair. "The wives, MY wives, were women I took from men I wanted to keep in line. Or they were women who offered themselves because they liked the perks, no points, nice clothes, no working." I nodded, feeling sick. "They had ONE rule to follow. Complete loyalty-to ME. If I found out they cheated, then there would be punishment."

"How-" I realized that was the wrong question. "What?"

"A hot iron," my stomach flipped, thinking about a hot iron and what he might have done with it. "To the man they fucked's face." I swallowed down the urge to vomit at the thought of the smell of burning flesh. "When one of my wives escaped, along with a prisoner- I punished the doctor who I thought helped them."

"You maimed people." It came out hushed, but resigned. We were in a shitshow, what the fuck was I supposed to do with this information?

"I did more than that, Megan. I threw the doctor into the furnace." Shit. "Alive." Fuck. "When I fell, when I spent years under lock and key, I earned it."

"You were a prisoner?" And I invited his fucking ass in, gave him a tour and set him up in a room close by. Shit, maybe John wasn't all that fucking wrong.

He nodded. "I earned my release, my redemption, Megan." He was leaning forward again, elbows on his knees and he looked as tired as I'd felt all damn day. "The people who won, who beat me, they gave me a task and I did it."

"What was it?" Color me fucking curious.

"Another group, more dangerous than my people ever where, wanted a war." I nodded, I knew that outside of our gates and fences, the world was community against community. Many had come to us asking for aid against one another. We, I insisted, were Switzerland. "I infiltrated the group and killed their leader." He joined them and killed their leader, like he joined us- Fuck.

"I see." I was surprised to hear how strong and easy my voice sounded.

"I was granted freedom when their conflict ended, Megan, and I saw your group." My eyes met his and I could see that he was trying to convince me that it wasn't another situation like that one. "I don't want to see you go through what I did, but seeing how you run things here, I'm not sure you will."

"How do I know-" I stopped, suddenly feeling like the nap wasn't nearly enough for this conversation. "I think you should go to your room."

"Megan," he sighed, shaking his head. "I want to be fucking transparent with you, no secrets."

"Which might have been great," I offered, eyes shutting so I could think. "If you'd started yesterday."

"Let's discuss this," but I shook my head and he nodded. "OK, you sleep on it, and tomorrow, we'll discuss it." He was at the door before I had a chance to argue that I'd decide when we would discuss it. "Get some rest, Megan."

He was gone, and I had a shit ton of bullshit to wade through before sleep would come. Again.