Could a person die of boredom? Was it possible? I was pondering this worrisome conundrum, during a very worrisome time indeed, when I was told by one of the men I kept close by for security that we'd had a breach. FINALLY, I thought, something to end the monotony AND put a pin in my fear that I'd end up a fucking mindless insatiable corpse from the WORST end possible.

"Really?" My eyebrow arched in hope laced incredulity. After all, one reason for the boredom was the fact that my security was just that fucking amazing. "Someone managed to actually BREACH our boundaries?" I contemplated the very idea and where the possible breach happened, where our defenses could be weak.

John, tall, broad shouldered and smouldering John, nodded while looking like he'd love to be squirming under my scrutiny. I didn't drop my focus, enjoying his discomfort, knowing that it bothered him that someone my size and gender could make him feel so inadequate and also knowing that he would just as easily have me pinned against the wall behind me if I asked him to. "We have him in the cafeteria," the main area, big enough to keep secure and maintain control while allowing our group to watch the fun.

I'd lucked out when I took over the community college, fences and buildings were in good repair, a little tweaking here and there and we had a perfect place to ride out the 'end of days' as our resident doomsdayers kept muttering about. "He wouldn't stop talking, so Max used some duct tape." I grinned, Max was nothing if not resourceful.

I got up from the comfortable desk chair that I'd been seated in, the president's office was mine, it seemed fitting given my role in our group. John stepped back and my smile held as his head dropped slightly in a natural sign of reverence. When he handed me my crowbar, the gauze and fabric taped grip toward me, I took it as gracefully as if he'd handed me an umbrella.

"Thank you, John." I moved through the open doorway. "Maybe you and I can have a little time alone, later." I bit my lip when I heard a small moan come from the large man following me, I wondered what Max would want for his ingenuity for use of duct tape in a time of need? Well, John first, then I'd think up something memorable for Max after I had a look see what my pets drug in.

The cafeteria was crowded. The tables pushed aside, since it was that awkward time between meals and the workday was nowhere near finished, but it wasn't everyday that we had a breach. The crowd parted like the sea had for Moses when my boots met the tiles, knees hit the floor just as fast as I walked past, but my eyes were on Max and Greg, and the lean stranger they held between them.

His eyes were locked on me as I approached, and my smile grew as his dimples peeked at me from the duct tape that Max had been frugal with in keeping him quiet. He wasn't struggling, in fact, if I didn't know better I'd say he was exactly where he wanted to be.
"Why, Max, it looks like you got me a present," I stared up at the lanky stranger who stared right back without blinking. "Did you at least ask for a name before you pressed his mute button?" I was holding my weapon of choice loosely, swinging it gently by my hip, an idle gesture, still somewhat bored. His laugh lines were deepening around his eyes, amusement while surrounded wasn't a normal response in these less than normal times so I was a touch intrigued.

"Megan?" Max and Greg shared a look and both shrugged. "It sounded like Megan or Regan." I kept them around for usefulness and attractiveness, not necessarily for the depth of their intelligence or memory.

I snorted. "His name is either Megan, like a five year old girl, or Regan, a dead president?" He was shaking his head and rolling his eyes in commiseration with my feeling the need for better minions. I stepped closer and raised my free hand to an edge of the duct tape. "I apologize in advance, but-" with one rip I had the tape off and he didn't make a sound for a moment, impressing me.

"SHIT!" Or, I thought, I gave credit too soon. "Fuckity fuck fuck." He pulled an arm free from Max and rubbed his hand across his mouth. "Christ, are my fucking lips still fucking-" I waited for him to get himself under control. Clearly the pain had made him stupid. "Negan." He bit the word out and I was still staring at him. "My name? You asked, they fucked it up, it's Negan."

"I guess that's better than Megan, and definitely an improvement on Regan." I nodded to Max and he pulled out the roll of tape. Negan's eyes widened.

"Wait a minute," he held the hand he'd pulled free up. "Why don't we discuss-"

"You're right, Negan." He looked pleased and smug. "We should discuss how you breached our perimeter." John brought me a chair and I sat, laying my clean and nicely balanced crowbar across my lap, my chair was close enough so I could look up at Negan. "Where did you come in?"

While I waited for him to choose what he was planning on telling me, I took in the man before me. Pants, worn but serviceable. Layered shirts, leather jacket, bloodstains, all fairly normal given the current climate. Short hair that was longer on top, scruffy face, also fairly common. Boots, also worn but in good shape given that they had to be several years old. Shrewd eyes, and I had bets on just how silver his tongue could be.

"You have a spot, behind the ag building, near the east edge of the grain garden," I glanced at Greg and he nodded that he was making a note of it. "If your guards ran on a more regulated schedule, I had them pegged at fifteen minute rotations," my lip querked. I wasn't planning on helping him out with a corrected time table. "Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Fuck there found me and here we are."

I smiled even as John and Max stiffened at their new monikers. "You told me where you came in, but not how you knew our layout." His expression changed only subtly. "Who sent you?"

"No one sent me," his head tilted to match mine, and he smiled back. "I just saw your setup here and couldn't help but want to join."

"Leave us," I didn't raise my voice, I didn't have to. John told the crowd to get back to work, Max and Greg directed traffic and I kept my eyes on our uninvited guest. Soon it was just me, him, and my three current closest 'advisors'. "Greg," smaller than Max or John, was also the stronger of the three. "I think you have a weak spot to look into." A curt nod and he was on his way. Max moved to stand closer to Negan but I stopped him with a look. "You and John should have a conversation with our current guards, see if anyone's," my eyes were still on Negan and he looked far too unconcerned for me to feel serene. "See who's newest to the list. When they were added, where they came from." Nothing, not even a twitch. "See if anyone on the guard list has a new friend, same questions." They left and then it was two.

"You seem pretty confident that you're safe alone with me," he was still standing and I was still comfortably seated. "That either means that you are the ULTIMATE badass," he wasn't pacing, no, he'd found a place to lean and he looked as at ease as I was. "OR you're the supreme head of EVERY goddamn thing here."

"Maybe I'm both," I crossed my ankles and waited to see what he planned on offering me. Every person who came in wanted to barter. Be it I'll be this, if you grant me that or back my people in this, and we'll happily hand you this much of our take in supplies. This world was nothing if not negotiable. "What are you?"

He snorted and stared down at me with something that smacked vaguely of condescension, which I truly hoped he wasn't stupid enough to employ. "Me?" He bit his lip and his eyes roamed over my small form sitting in the chair that John had brought for me. "I'm YOU."

I laughed, thinking that he must have gone completely insane during the time since the first corpse rose and started eating people. "You're me?" I blinked at him, wondering if perhaps he was right and I was overly confident at being alone with him. If he was batshit crazy, even a crowbar to the head might not fucking work. "I think we're a little too different for that to be plausible."

He shook his head and rolled his eyes. "Not literally." Well that was a relief, he wasn't completely insane. "I WAS you. I had ALL this. Different time, different place. Different genitals." I snorted. "Different weapon." His eyes fell to my lap and my hand curled around the fabric and tape bound handle, tensing slightly. "It's temporary, all of it, I fell, so will you."

"That sounds like a threat." I smiled up at him, thinking if nothing else he was amusing. "Are you thinking that you want another go at leader of a pack, Negan?" He shook his head, but his lips weren't cooperating, the smirk was lurking, even as he fought it. "You can taste it, can't you? The power. Having them kneel." I could see it, he really had had it once, a tiny pinch in his eyes told me more than all the words that his mouth could ever spill. "How long were you the king of your mountain?"

"Fleetingly," his voice had lost the strength he'd led with, and I went back to carefully studying him. "It wasn't- Nothing is permanent. Not anymore."

I wondered what broke him, because something clearly had, even if he still had bursts of something. Something almost magnetic. "And you want to join us?" The disbelief was palpable. "Why?"

His eyes, never far from meeting my own, laser focused on mine and he stopped fighting his lips urge to curl into a smile. "I'm a joiner, and this?" He threw his arms wide and gestured around us. "This is just too good to NOT want to join."

I snorted again, feeling slightly as if I were turning into a pig. Squinting I leaned forward to stare up into his eyes. He stared back. "How is it your eyes aren't dark brown?" He raised an eyebrow and I went on. "Since you are clearly so full of fucking shit that it has to be up to your fucking forehead."

His grin grew, if possible and I was reminded of the Joker from Batman. "Why are you so cynical? I told you, I WAS you, I'm a font of fucking knowledge-" he stopped studying me as he seemed to be puzzling out something. "What the fuck is your name?"

I bit my lip and fought the laugh threatening to bubble out of me. Before I could answer, John was back. "Megan?" I turned to see what he needed and I heard our new recruit give a snort of his own.

"Like a five year old girl, wasn't it?" I rolled my eyes as John came closer, but my hand twitched on my trusty crowbar when he added, "guess it makes sense since you LOOK like a fucking-"

"I'd be VERY fucking careful with how you finish that sentence, Negan." I didn't turn to look at him, I was still waiting for John to tell me whatever he needed to. My tone was clear, watch it, and I wasn't surprised that he listened. "What is it, John?"

John updated me on the trio's progress. The breach point was easily found and mended. They were 'interviewing' our current group of guards. Since I made it a point to rotate duties, not only guards, but throughout our community this wouldn't take long, but if I wasn't satisfied that Negan had just stumbled onto us by some fucking wild coincidence then we might have to widen our net. I listened and considered the next steps I wanted to take, while tossing the interloper into one of our 'holding areas' sounded fucking wonderful so I could take a nice relaxing pounding with John, or Max, or Greg, I knew that I'd have to deal with the stress of the mess first.

"Finish the interviews," I advised, studying the wall across from me as I made up my mind. "Focus on the lonelier females, the ones that seem needier than most. And any of the men who like to play follower more than leader." John was nodding when I finally looked back at him again. "If no one seems to know who Negan is, then go back to the last rotation. And then another rotation." Another nod and I sighed. "I guess we won't get our playtime for awhile, John." I gave myself a moment to pout and heard a snicker come from the general direction of my newest thorn in my ass. "Back to work."

"Do you want me to-" John gestured toward Negan's relaxed and leaning form and I shook my head. "Megan, I can-"

"John, you can do a vast quantity of magical and horrible things, but ONLY if I give the say so." He flinched at the reminder of our roles in this world. "Now, you have a job, so-" he nodded with a slightly bowed head and I fought a grin at the knowledge that he didn't want to show any weakness to this new entity. I watched him as he left, wondering how many waves Negan would cause from his very existence.

"Wow," I turned to see the new bane of my being studying me with the same interest I'd watched John. I waited as his laugh lines and dimples made his charm grow. "You really ARE me."

"What?" Maybe I should call for John to come back and secure the man, if he kept insisting that we were so damn alike. "Now how are we twinsies?"

"Got yourself a trio of hubbies?" I stared at him in shock, marriage? In this fucking world? "OK, maybe not husbands, but you're definitely letting them dip their pricks in the company pool."

I laughed at that. He wasn't wrong, but damn that euphemism was fucking hilarious and old fashioned. "How old are you, grandpa?" He glared at me. "Pricks and company pool?" I shook my head. "Currently Greg, Max, and John and my 'advisors' and they have the added perk of satisfying my EVERY need. So yeah, we fuck. It isn't poetic, we aren't married, and I sure as fuck don't think of them like husbands."

"What would you do if they decided to dip their dicks in one of those needier than normal females?" He looked so damn smug as though he just KNEW what my answer would be that I nearly tossed something at his head, something heavy and metal based.

"Nothing." He raised an eyebrow in disbelief. "IF one of the CURRENT three saw someone they wanted to DIP into more than me, then they can do so, and leave their position as advisor behind." His smile grew like he was proven correct. "What?"

"I'm sure that that 'advisor' position comes with more perks than your ear and your-" his eyes roamed my seated body and I nearly felt the fucking heat from it. "Other assets."

I sat back again, studying him. "Negan, just how do you think things are run around here?"