Left alone with her thoughts, Sunny gathered things to start dinner and got to work. She could hear the tv on and Negan chuckling in the living room.

Ok, Sunny, you seriously need to get a grip. Just because a tall, dark, handsome, man has entered the picture doesn't mean you get to swoon. Let's think about this. He's a stranger, cusses like—what's worse than a sailor-, and he has a big ol' baseball bat with barbed wire. All of those things are red flags. How would you feel if he wasn't good looking? Like dad's creepy friend Ed. What if he was Ed? Omg. This has all the makings of horror movie slash after school special. If he wasn't good looking, I would have tried to get him to leave or protected myself. God, you're shallow….and desperate and lonely. It's been 2 years, of course you're lonely. Ugh, I've been blinded by dimples. Damnit. What do I do? I'll just have to try and keep some distance and convince him that I'm fine. He doesn't need to stay. Maybe I can reason with him. Oh, please, you can't even reason with yourself.

Boiled noodles, simmered canned tomato sauce with added spices, bread she had baked yesterday, and some canned green beans. Not fancy. But filling. She plated the meals and carried them out to the dining room adjacent to the living room. She was not ready for what she saw.

Negan looked over the back of the couch at her and gave her a dazzling smile, his hazel eyes twinkling with amusement. Her stomach clenched. She felt winded. No swooning, indeed.

"Out of all the action movies my dad has, you chose to watch my mom's Golden Girls dvds?" Sunny laughed.

"4 silver foxes and shit ton of sex jokes, hell fucking yeah, I chose this. The world is one big fucking action movie nowadays. Comedy…that shit's hard to come by."

"I guess that makes sense. Dinner's ready."

"Smells good, doll."

Making his way to the table, he pulled off his gloves and gave her a wink that made her knees weak. They sat opposite each other and began to eat.

"So, Dorothy?" Negan guessed.

"No," she held up her hand as his mouth opened again, "and I'm not any of the other Golden Girls either," she laughed.

"Rachel?"

"Nope. Not Phoebe or Monica either."

"Damn. Just tell me your name. I've got to know," he playfully demanded.

"Nope," Sunny smiled as his grin turned to a frown.

Negan gave a small moan as he bit into the bread, "This bread is de-fucking-licious. The people in my kitchens don't know what the fuck they're doing."

"My parents taught me to cook at a young age. You should see what I can do with a fully stocked kitchen."

"You're damn lucky they did. Most people have no fucking survival skills and are barely making it."

"I can't imagine what it's like out there. What's it like where you live?"

"It's fucking big and safe. Which is damn hard to come by. It's not for pussies. Everybody fucking works. There are fucking rules and consequences when those are broken. But it keeps what we have fucking going."

"Well, that was a long yet vague answer," she leaned back in her chair with her arms crossed.

"Tell me your name and I'll tell you more," he shifted over his plate placing his elbows on the table setting his chin on his fists.

"Pass. Get your elbows off the table," she stood to gather their now empty plates.

His eyebrows raised, his hand circled her wrist, "What did I say about giving me orders?"

"Get your elbows of the table, please," her eyes focused on the large hand wrapped around her. It was warm and strong.

"Try that again, princess." His thumb rubbed the back of her hand while his fingers exerted just tiny bit of pressure.

"Would you, please, take your elbows of the table?" her voice breathy.

"Good girl. Now was that so hard, baby?"

"No…" she looked from his hand still rubbing hers to his eyes. The smirk on his face revealed how much he was loving this. She couldn't believe how easily she gave in, "Would you, please, let go of me?" she glared, "I want to wash these dishes before the sauce sets."

"Abso-fucking-lutely. Now, dollface, mind if I take shower? I feel fucking filthy." he stood from the table stretching his arms over his head.

"I guess not….you'll find some clothes in my dad's room. They'll be too big and might be a little stale, but they're clean. You can just toss your clothes in the washer in the bathroom and start it. It should be enough to do a full load. We can even use the dryer. That way you can be on your way before it gets too late. My head is fine. There's no need for you to stay," she turned and fled to the kitchen.

He was right on her tail. He spun her around to face him and placed his hands on either side of her on the edge of the sink.

"Pardon the fuck out of me? Leave? I thought we were getting along so well? Why the sudden need to be fucking rid of me?" he stood over her his deep gravelly voice raised goosebumps down her neck.

"I just don't—that is—maybe it's not…"she began to panic.

"What's the problem, princess? Afraid I'll try something?" he leaned in further, "Or afraid I won't." His chuckle turned her worry to anger.

"Look here," she pointed at him her finger poking his chest, "I don't know you. You waltz in here say you're staying the night, and I'm just supposed to accept that, because you said that's how it is? Are you serious, right now? You have a bat with barbed wire. You hid my weapons. How am I supposed to react now that the shock of seeing another living being has worn off?" She watched his jaw clenched.

"Yes, you're supposed to fucking accept it. You've been fucking alone for 2 years, and you've done a damn good job. Maybe you fucking need to let someone else take control for a night? Yeah, I'm a fucking stranger and yeah, I've got Lucille but does that mean I'm fucking evil? There are god damned walking corpses outside, of course, I have a fucking weapon."

"You named your bat? You do realize that's, like, serial killer territory, right?"

"Honey," he leaned closer looming over her and whispered in her ear his voice a low growl, "if I was going to fucking kill you, I would've already done it and taken all your shit."

"Not making me feel better," she whispered her head instinctively leaned away unintentionally giving him access to her neck.

"I'm staying," he murmured against her throat feeling her pulse racing against his lips.

"But—" she weakly tried to argue but her voice seemed fade as he nuzzled her skin his stubble grazing her delicate skin. She sighed.

"No," he pushed away from her, "I'm fucking staying. You can be fucking mad about it, but the decision has been made."

She crossed her arms and furrowed her brows. Her eyes coming back into focus after his invasion of her personal space.

"You look fucking cute when you pout, baby," his eyes swept over all her sulky glory. He tapped the end of her nose, winked, and turned to leave.

She watched him walk away. She had never been so nervous, angry, and turned on at the same time.

What the fuck was that? Oh, great now you even sound like him. How could you just whimper and give in? Have you no pride? No, you have a giant lady boner that has been through a Saharan dry spell. He's taking a shower. Go join him. No! I still need to shave. That's your reasoning for why you shouldn't join a strange man in the shower hours after meeting him? You. Are. Insane. Ok, you can do this. You can resist. Maintain your distance. You're strong. No, you're not. You should run to your room, lock the door, and hide until he leaves. It's really your only choice. You can't trust him… or yourself.

But she didn't. Dishes weren't going to wash themselves. She needed something to do to distract her from thoughts of soap bubbles cascading down his flat abs as his hands lathered up his body. It didn't help much.

Negan found some pajama pants and a white shirt. Her dad must have been a few inches shorter and a couple hundred pounds heavier. He threw his clothes in the washer, started the shower, and waiting for some glorious hot water.

Maybe, this won't be an outpost. Shit, maybe I'll keep this place just for me. A fucking vacation home. I think I've fucking earned it.

The hot water hit his body and his muscles started to relax. All except one. Sunny, was getting to him. The way she argued with him and teased him. She had spirit. She may be nervous around him, but she wasn't scared of him. Not like everyone else. Even his wives. She didn't know what he was capable of. What he had done. His introduction hadn't included the death of loved ones. And he was going to use that to his advantage. She wanted him. She wanted him bad. She just didn't want to want him…yet. Trying to be all moral and shit. So fucking sweet. So innocent. He wanted her to stay that way.

His hand slid lower gripping his dick. He need to knock one out to keep his mind clear. Long fluid strokes setting a demanding pace. Thoughts of Sunny underneath him writhing in ecstasy; his face buried between her thighs as she gripped his hair; turned to visions of her mouth around his cock; her big green eyes looking up at him. A few more strokes was all it took. He came with a soft groan imagining her swallowing like the good girl he wanted her to be.

And oh, he knew she could be. She had potential. She may put up some resistance on principal, but the minute he touched her she melted. He wondered how wet she already was. He wanted her desperate for him. Wanted to be her god damned knight in shining fucking armor. Then she could be his princess.

You could spoil her and she would fucking appreciate it. She wouldn't bitch for more or act like you owed her for putting out. She would give herself to you because she fucking wanted to not because she made a deal. Not that the wives don't want this…I mean, you are fan-fucking-tastic. But they don't give a shit about you. Not a single god damned one. You could take care of Sunny like you should have taken care of her.

A harem had seemed like a good deal when he thought of it. Why stick to one woman? He'd never been able to do it before. All the pussy he wanted. Whenever he wanted. They were all willing. Some of them were even enthusiastic. But he needed more than just a good fuck every night. He just hadn't realized what it was he needed until he met Sunny.

Sunny walked out of the kitchen just in time to see Negan walking out holding a shirt with lose pajama pants slung low on his hips. Her eyes drank in the sight and she licked her lips. His wet hair was combed back. Salt and pepper scruff on his face, and dark curls on his broad chest. Flat abs with hard muscles. He was attractive and oh so, tempting.

"See something you like?" he asked with a knowing smirk.

Didn't we talk about this, Sunny? Play it cool…

She took a breath and shrugged, "Eh, if you like old guys…"

"What the fuck does that mean? I'm in peak fucking condition for any age," he said loudly.

"Well, you certainly are in better shape than my dad. You're probably close to the same age," she smiled sweetly at him.

He started slowly stalking towards her his voice low and dangerous, "Are you calling me your Daddy?"

Sunny face felt like it had burst into flames could he read minds? She sputtered, "No—that's not—oh my god!" she sputtered.

Negan threw his head back barked a brazen laugh. She was gorgeous flustered. She should have known better than to try and take him down a peg. His ego was backed by years of women dropping their panties for him.

"I'm going to go take a shower," she walked around him to get to the bathroom.

"Well, shit, if I had known you were a dirty girl, we could have conserved some fucking water and showered together. I thought you were already fucking ready for bed in those jammies, princess."

"I just like to be comfortable. I don't actually sleep in these. I get too hot."

"You sleep in less?" he grinned.

"Yes—no! I sleep in lighter fabrics not less clothing. I'm going now."

She made her escape to the bathroom. Locking the door, she leaned against it and took a deep breath. How did he always manage to turn the tables on her? She had to admit that this was the most excitement she had had in years though. Being the center of someone's attention felt sinfully good.

She undressed and got in the shower. Why was she doing this? She didn't need to shower and shave, because nothing was going to happen. Right? Did she want something to happen? Would that be the worst thing? People had one night stands all the time, right? Why couldn't she?

Because you would fall in love, pick out hypothetical baby names, and he would take off and leave you alone again just like last time. He hasn't invited you to his group. He's flirting with you because you're an easy target. Once he gets in your pants, you'll never see him again. He's only here to make sure you don't die overnight…or he's waiting to rob you blind while you sleep.

Thoroughly depressed—when did her inner voice become such a downer- but pleasantly smooth skinned she turned the shower off and grabbed a towel. That's when she realized she hadn't brought a change of clothes in the bathroom with her. She would have to face Negan naked and wet.

Please, don't see me. Please, don't see me.

She peeked out the door and tried to quietly open it. The bathroom was in between the two bedrooms but opened right onto the living room. Hopefully, he'd be engrossed in some more of Blanche Devereaux's racy sexcapades and wouldn't even notice. She was wrong.

Negan was leaning against the back of the couch watching the bathroom door. Arms crossed against his chest, legs crossed at his ankles, and an evil grin stretched across his face.

"Did you fucking forget something, sweet cheeks?" the glee in his voice made her cringe.

Deciding to ignore him, she gripped her towel tight and walked with her head held high. She made it the few feet when he intercepted her at the door.

"I took the liberty of picking you out an outfit. Wear that and only that," he said playing with some stray water droplets on her collarbone.

She looked up at him, "And if I don't?"

"I'd be real fucking disappointed, sugar," his hand cupped her cheek and he bit his lip as he smiled.

Sunny turned away and entered her room the click of the door barely registered over the pounding of her own heart. Clothing was laid out neatly on her green and blue quilt. To say she was shocked was an understatement. She was well past appalled. She was borderline horrified. Why, just why? Did he just like to screw with her? Hadn't her unicorn jammies been humiliating enough? How did he even find this?

She put it on anyways. It was really the lesser of two evils. Either be embarrassed or have to deal with his "disappointment" which she wasn't sure what that entailed. She dried her hair and tried to muster what was left of her dignity.

"You are seriously sick," she said rounding the couch.

He turned his head his mouth spreading into a cheshire cat grin as he looked her up and down, "What? That looks fucking amazing."

"Out of all the skimpy tank tops and short shorts I have, you chose the nightgown my grandma gave me. I look like I escaped from the prairie."

Her nightgown was white cotton with itchy lace around the neck, pink bows, and frills at the hems. It had long sleeves and only reached her shins. She placed her hands on her hips and glared.

"Did you want me to pick out something scandalous? Because that's what it sounds like. Did you want to be my dirty girl?"

"What! No! Oh my god—no-that's not what I am saying!"

He laughed as she struggled to compose herself.

She was right though, he could have chosen something revealing, but when he had seen that sweet fucking nightgown hidden in the back of her drawer, he had to see her in it. It was too fucking cute. And now to see her wearing it, it was almost too much. The way it hung from the soft curve of her breasts; her pink nipples almost visible beneath the white fabric; knowing she had those white cotton panties underneath…it was teasing him more than any peekaboo lingerie did nowadays. His wives lounged in many states of undress readily at his disposal, but the thrill was gone. Depravity was boring. He actually longed for the days of old fashioned dating. The world had truly turned to shit when he wanted something deeper. That's not who he was but, fuck, if it wasn't who he was becoming.

"I mean, I guess, it actually makes sense with your Golden Girls fetish and all, but you're disturbed if this is what gets your gears going."

"You have no fucking idea, babydoll," he laughed, "Now, come sit with Daddy."

Her eyes widened and her cheeks blossomed into a deep rose, "What? Why?"

"We've had dinner, and now we're going to fucking watch some movies. A fucking proper first date."

"This isn't a date."

"Sure the fuck is. What's wrong? Never been on a fucking date before?"

"Of course, I have! Just not with someone so much older than me and certainly not a stranger."

"And how did dating those cunts turn out?"

Sunny just glared and remained silent.

"That's what I fucking thought. Maybe you need someone older. Someone that actually fucking knows about women. Now, come here and let's start the fucking movie."

"What movie?" she asked.

"The Princess Bride."

Her face lit up. She clapped her hands and squeed, "That's my favorite! Wait, let me pop some popcorn!"

He smiled at her enthusiasm. He knew she would love this shit. Her room was full of romance novels, and there was a fair amount of rom-com movies to choose from. A true romantic hidden in a world of fucking misery. Maybe he should just keep her here and visit her. Keep her view of the world rose tinted. No. He couldn't just leave The Sanctuary. He'd worked too hard to build that shit up. And he knew a visit every now and then wouldn't be enough.

"Here we go." Sunny placed the popcorn bowl on the coffee table and sat on the far edge of the couch.

"Uh-uh, kitten. Come sit right here next to me," he patted the couch right next to him.

"Um…"she hesitated staring at him with uncertainty.

He leaned sideways and pulled her next to him his arm remaining around her shoulders, "There. This is nice and fucking cozy."

She sat stiff as a board trying hard to not actually touch him…or react to him in anyway. God, he smelled good. At least he had put a shirt on.

"Relax, baby, I can be a perfect gentleman," Negan whispered in her ear.

"You can…but will you?" she turned her head. Their noses were almost touching.

He chuckled, "Touché. You have my fucking word your honor is not at stake," he sat back.

Nooooo! You just friend zoned yourself! You could've had hot hot life altering sex! He actually knows what he's doing! Shut up! We do not want a repeat of last time. Friend zone is the safe zone. Better to keep our sanity and heart intact rather than give them up for an orgasm. Probably more than one…damnit!

She grabbed the popcorn bowl and held it in her lap and tried to relax. They ate popcorn and watched the movie she'd seen a thousand times.

"Who do you like better? Farm boy or Dread Pirate Westley?" he asked her.

"Pirate."

"Really? Why? Farm boy was so fucking sensitive and shit."

"Farm boy could barely even talk to her. Pirate Westley is a man of action and takes what he wants."

"So you fucking prefer sarcastic men of action to sensitive pussy pretty boys?" he asked with a great big smirk.

"These are hypothetical questions about fictional characters and have no bearing on real life situations."

He grinned and licked his bottom lip, "Sure they fucking don't, doll."

"What movie's next?" Sunny asked eager to change the subject.

"Spartacus."

"Ugh, it's soooo long."

"We watched your fucking favorite and now it's my fucking turn. Fair's fucking fair, kitten. But go ahead and pout. You know how much I like it."

She immediately uncrossed her arms and arranged her face to one of indifference, "Fine."

God, she was so bored. The popcorn was gone. She didn't care about gladiators. She finally let herself settle back against the couch and felt his hand creep into her hair. She a moan escaped her lips when his hand started massaging her scalp.

"Mmm…You're going to put me to sleep if you do that."

The hand stopped.

"Nooo! Don't stop. That felt soooo good."

Negan smiled in victory and his hand resumed its magic. With subtle pressure he leaned her head against his shoulder. She felt lips on the crown of her head.

"I love it when you beg, princess."

She ignored him. She would let him say whatever he wanted and agree to whatever he said, as long has his hand didn't stop moving. It had been so long since she had been touched with any kind of tenderness. She closed her eyes and just let the feelings consume her. The small noises of pleasure she made going straight to his cock.

He kept rubbing her scalp until he felt her head fall and jerk back up. He had really put her to sleep. He pulled her into his lap and cradled her in his arms admiring her sleeping form. She looked so peaceful.

He turned off the tv, picked her up, carried her to her bed, and tucked her in. He flipped the laundry to the dryer, turned off all the lights, brought Lucille to the bedroom, and climbed into bed next to her. He was sure she would have plenty to say about this tomorrow, and he couldn't wait to see her righteous fury. She was a perfect mixture of sweet and sass. She was good, but he would teach her to be naughty. But right now, he just wanted to hold her. Savor her. Her smell, the warmth and softness of her small body. He spooned up behind her, wrapped an arm around her and fell asleep.