Alexandria was quite the fortress.
A smattering of people up on the wall gaped down at the caravan of trucks with wide eyes as Negan sauntered up to the gate. Daphne and Arat flanked him, guns at the ready.
He was relaxed and cocky as ever as he banged on the gate with Lucille firmly in his fist.
"Little pig, little pig, let me in!" he bellowed, and Daphne stifled a giggle. Arat simply rolled her eyes.
The Lara Croft looking chick from a few nights back shoved the gate open, murder in her steely gaze.
"You said a week," she seethed, and Negan simply chuckled as he brushed past her, twirling the bat like a baton.
"I believe I fuckin' said 'every week', hellcat," he drawled as he waved in the convoy. "Did anybody taking fuckin' meeting minutes? What the hell am I paying you all for? Where's my fuckin' secretary?!" He grinned and leaned to the side, plopping Lucille on his shoulder. "You want to apply for the fuckin' job? That ass of yours would look fan-fucking-tastic in a pencil skirt."
The woman clenched her jaw, hand twitching over her gun holster.
"I guess not." Negan waved over a few Saviors that were jumping down out of a transport truck. "I'm gonna need that fuckin' gun though sweetheart." He opened his hand expectantly to her.
She didn't move, and both Arat and Daphne immediately raised their weapons. The woman scowled and tossed her gun in the dirt, stalking away from the situation in a huff.
"Who's in fuckin' charge here?!" Negan bellowed, wandering up the main street of what was clearly suburbia. "I bet Rick is still laid up, so who is second in command? Is this any way to greet your new King?"
People reluctantly emerged from their homes, looking disheveled from sleep in the early morning sun.
He spread his arms, spinning around to face his lieutenants. "This place is fuckin' beautiful. What do you think, ladies, summer home here? I bet Rick the Prick would give us a good fuckin' price on one of these babies."
Daphne snorted. The neighbours might have a problem with that.
"Hi." A guy with perfectly styled dark hair and business casual attire jogged down the steps of a nearby house. He offered his hand with a smile. "I'm Spencer."
Negan laughed incredulously. "You are most certainly fuckin' not Rick's successor," he said, but shook the guy's hand regardless. "Look at those fuckin' clothes. You ever even been outside these walls?"
"My mother was the mayor of this town," Spencer said, ignoring the question. Daphne almost admired his charisma, though she could see the blatant fear behind the mask. "Rick took over, and now my mother and brothers are dead. You took care of Rick. So I'd like to take care of you."
"How long you been practicing that fuckin' speech, frat boy?" Negan asked, voice low and conspiratorial.
Spencer wavered, licking his lips nervously. "Look, there are a few of us that have been tolerating Rick because of his manpower, but when you-"
"A few of you?" The leather clad man bellowed. "Are they all soft little fuckin' politicians like you? Why don't you scurry back to city hall and tell everyone Uncle Negan's fuckin' come to visit. I only want to talk to people who are fuckin' providing for me. If you and your 'few' have just been sitting around eating up fuckin' resources then you're useless to the New World Order."
His stance was relaxed but his presence intimidating enough to send Spencer rushing back into his house, tail between his legs. A seemingly endless pack of Saviors gathered in the street, and Negan whirled around to face them.
"Alright, I want every fuckin' weapon, half of the food and half of the meds!" he called out. "If anyone gives you fuckin' grief, shoot 'em! We got no room for negativity in this fuckin' organization."
The Saviors scattered, pushing past people into their homes. A group of familiar faces headed towards the trio through the throng. It was Maggie's baby daddy, flanked by Rick's kid and the Samurai chick.
The Korean guy was at the front, deep circles under his eyes. "Is Maggie okay?"
"Oh, she's living the fuckin' high life in a big cushy bed under constant watch by the country's best doctor." Negan grinned. "Baby's got a strong fuckin' heartbeat, I hear."
The tired man let out a ragged sigh of relief, his entire body sagging.
"And Daryl?" This came from Rick's son, all garbed up with his gigantic hat.
"He's alive." Negan shrugged. "So you taking up the fuckin' mantle here, kid? The grand shithole heir to Alexandria?"
The kid reached for his gun and Daphne lunged forward, plucking it out of his hand with catlike reflexes. She threw an arm around his neck and pulled him close to her, like they were old buddies.
Samurai had drawn her sword during the excitement, eyes narrowed in warning at the blonde.
"Now now, why don't you hand that pretty fuckin' sword to Arat before I have to crack the boy's head open like a fuckin' egg?" Negan raised his eyebrows.
The woman begrudgingly handed over her piece, and the Arat actually cracked a half smile at the weight of it in her hand.
"You look fuckin' good with that, doll." Negan waggled his eyebrows and she narrowed her gaze at him.
"All the better to cut your dick off, my dear," she said evenly.
Daphne winked at her. "I'm not quite done with it yet, if you don't mind."
"Oh I'd get it mounted just for you." Arat sheathed the sword and tossed it over her shoulder.
The blonde put a hand to her heart in gratitude. "You're a good friend."
"You see what I have to fuckin' deal with?" Negan shook his head in mock exasperation, and then pointed Lucille at the boy. "What's your fuckin' name, kid?"
"Carl," the one-eyed teenager replied with defiance in his tone.
"Well, Carl, the one-eyed badass, I'd like you to take Daphne here on a thorough tour of your great fuckin' kingdom." Negan waved the bat around above his head to accentuate his point. "Samurai and the weeping husband are gonna take us to check on Rick the Prick." He winked. "Enjoy your date, kid, and if you get to second base I wanna hear every fuckin' detail."
Carl looked horrified and Daphne turned him away from the leather clad tyrant, rolling her eyes.
"Don't mind him, he's a perv," she said, flicking the brim of his hat. "This your dad's? He looks like sheriff material."
The kid made a quick grab for her gun holster and she swatted his hand away with a giggle, tightening the arm around his neck.
"Jesus, you are stupid." She shook her head. "You know everyone you care about will die horribly if you fuck with us, right? Keep your shit together." She let go of him and he nearly stumbled into the dirt. "Now, I expect a thorough tour on our date. I want to see every nook and cranny."
Carl scowled, straightening his hat. "What are you even looking for?"
"We need a lay of the land, know thine enemy and all that," she replied. "And of course, if we happen to find any missing people lurking about, that's a bonus."
"Carol's gone," he snapped as he lead her to the first house in the row.
Daphne sighed. "So you say. Forgive me if I don't trust you just yet." She ran a finger up the impeccably clean doorframe as she followed him inside. "Is she your mom?"
"My mom's dead." His voice thickened a bit and he avoided her gaze.
She wandered through the living area, noting the matching decor and furniture. "Sorry, kid. The apocalypse is shitty to us all."
"Some more than others," he muttered, and she burst out a humourless laugh.
"Don't delude yourself into thinking you're the good guys just because you're the underdogs here." She lifted a tiny glass puppy from the mantle and turned it over in her hands. "Your people fucked up, and they have to pay their dues. I would have thought you understood that, your dad being a cop."
"And what did Hilltop do to earn you terrorizing them?" Carl jutted out his lower jaw, and she couldn't help but admire the kid's guts.
She shrugged. "That's between Gregory and Negan. We trade amicably with lots of communities, or sometimes they come live and work at ours. If the Saviors have a beef with Gregory you can be sure he deserves it."
"Like we deserve it?"
"Look, kid, I'm not a good person. I know I'm not." Daphne put the little dog back on the mantle, enjoying the way it sparkled in the sunlight. "But neither are you. People like us that have had to survive out there, we've all had to do shit that goes against the standards of human moral code. But the people back home that are working hard to provide a future for their families? It's up to people like us to do the bad shit so that those kids can grow up and maybe bring goodness back into the world. That's what we're trying to do."
"And you think I'm delusional?" Carl rolled his eye. "That asshole isn't going to create a good world by smashing people's heads with a baseball bat."
"And your father isn't going to create one by murdering people in their sleep," Daphne snapped.
He had the conscience, or at least the intelligence, to lower his gaze. A flush crept up his cheeks and he clenched his fists.
"That's why Carol left," he whispered. "She couldn't do it anymore."
Daphne pursed her lips. "How nice for her."