Ali spent the next few days alone in her room. Negan had no issues with her cutting herself off from the world, and for that she was grateful… no matter how weird that sounds.
He even took it upon himself to have meals brought up to her living area. No matter how uncomfortable that made Ali, she thought about the alternative. She thought about going down to the dining area and eating with hundreds of sexually frustrated men. Soldiers. And that was enough to make her realize she was doing right by herself.
Deep down, however, she felt weak. She survived out there among the dead for months… and her father before he died. But meeting new people and acting like she was, it was inevitable that she thought of herself as weak.
Her intuition told her that Simon was okay, and she could talk to him without freaking out, but that was because he knew how to keep his distance. The way Negan shows affection… it's different. He has to talk. He has to touch. But with the way he has turned into a ghost recently made Ali think he was finally beginning to understand her.
Until today.
Ali wipes her sweaty palms on her new jeans. Simon dropped by her room to inform her that Negan wants to have a 'little chat'. She has no way of knowing what that 'little chat' is going to be about, but simply seeing him puts her on edge. Maybe it's nothing. It's probably nothing.
She ties her long hair into a bun before heading out of the door. Originally, somebody was supposed to pick her up and take her to Negan, but Ali was not going to be babied. Especially in a world like this.
The corridor is empty and cold, just like it is all the damn time. She leans against the wall, briefly navigating her way to his office in her head. She knows the way. It's not too far.
Her body tenses up as a man with an assault rifle passes her. She casts her eyes down when he notices her, and even when she is looking at her shoes, she feels his eyes on her.
Soon, the footsteps fade out and she is alone again. He must have thought she looked slightly weird standing there.
Ali sighs and starts to walk. You killed these soldiers upon your arrival. You can walk through a fucking corridor. She swallows her nerves and forces her legs to move.
A few turns to the right. A couple to the left. A quick swerve and an apology for bumping into a woman. She is there.
Desperate for the warmth of his room and tired of the everlasting gaze of other people, she pounds on the door, jumping back slightly when it opens almost immediately.
It's not Negan. She steps back quickly, wondering if she got the right room. That's when she realises that the guy staring down at her is the same guy she saw in the corridor not long ago.
"Umm," she opens her mouth to apologise, but a velvety voice interrupts.
"Ali!" Negan smiles behind the man, holding out his arms, "Davey here was just leaving. Good to see you, sweetheart."
She bites her lip.
"Where the fuck is Simon? Wasn't he supposed to escort you?"
Ali blushes in embarrassment, glancing from Negan to 'Davey' or whatever his name is.
"I am capable of walking here by myself," she answers, the confidence in her voice surprising her.
Negan nods in approval before pointing towards the door, "Get the hell out of here, David. I have a guest."
David casts a quick glance at Ali before disappearing into thin air. He is a strange looking man. He is smaller than Negan and slightly chubby, with greasy hair sticking to his forehead.
Ali shudders before stepping into Negan's office. She closes the door behind her.
"You say Simon didn't show up?" he reaches for his walkie-talkie. The disappointment in his voice makes her anxious for the man responsible for making her feel almost like she has been here for years.
"Wait!" she calls, stilling Negan's actions. He turns to her with a wide smirk, "I didn't wait for him. I wanted to get here by myself."
"So you did," he nods before gesturing around the room, "Take a seat, darlin'. Anywhere will do."
He turns his back, walking over to the bar right next to his bathroom door. He starts pouring drinks, playing the part of a perfect host.
Ali folds her arms and goes to sit on the big armchair. He glances at her, a smile in his voice, "Do you know why you're here?"
"No," she answers, crossing her legs after discarding her combat boots.
Negan scratches his top lip with his thumb. She notices that he is wearing his white shirt again. A bandage is wrapped around his wrist, this time it looks cleaner.
"I wanted to talk to you about your job here," he purrs, walking over to Ali with two glasses in hand. He hands her the one that looks the clearest. She sniffs it. Nothing. Water.
He slouches opposite her with a relaxing groan before taking a sip of his drink. His eyes stay on her as he swallows, looking as if there is a dialogue rehearsal going on in his head. Finally, he speaks.
"You know that The Sanctuary isn't a fucking hotel," Negan smirks, "I don't simply welcome every fucking beggar on the road and let them stay here for free. Nope. That is not how this shit works."
Ali looks down into her glass, watching the water wobble. He is bringing this up because she does not have a job, that much is clear. She is not stupid. But that is not a problem for her. She knew from the beginning that something was expected of her if she was to live here. And even if Negan would not have said anything, she still wouldn't be able to sit around for the rest of her life, waiting for the next meal to be brought up to her room.
She nods, taking a gulp of the water, "Cut to the chase."
Negan raises his brows, creating a satisfactory croak in the back of his throat, "Look at this badass."
His eyes dance over her again. She looks away.
"Okay, darlin'. Sure thing," he leans in, "I know what you are capable of," he says, referring to her spectacular entrance into the Sanctuary, "So I'm thinking…"
She watches as he scratches the stubble around his jawline, creating the sound of sandpaper.
"How would you like to work outside of the Sanctuary?"
"Meaning?"
Negan smiles, showing his teeth, "Meaning," he mimics, "Going on runs. Trading with other communities."
Ali sits up. She didn't know there were other communities. She missed them all and stumbled into this one?
"Of course, you won't be alone," he adds, "Simon usually makes trips to the Hilltop. You still like Simon, right?"
Ali stares at him.
"Just follow his lead. I'll tell him to show you the ropes, and then," there is a dramatic pause, "You become a fucking Savior."
He takes her silence as a rejection.
"Unless," there is a mischievous tone to his voice, "You'd rather be here with me, feeding me grapes and giving me massages."
She bites the inside of her cheek, waiting for him to say something about the possibility of riding his dick, but it never comes.
"I'll do the job," she says. Negan continues staring, "The… the job with Simon."
He nods, chuckling as he lies back, "Whatever you want, doll."
"Am I working for my welcome here?"
"You are working for points," he clarifies. She tilts her head like a clueless puppy, "The more points you have, the more shit you can afford. Food, water, medicine… toys."
Ali raises a brow.
"But darlin', the points won't be a problem for you," he says, "I am giving you one of the best jobs because I like you," his shoulders shake lightly, suppressing a chuckle.
"Oh… thank you," she answers awkwardly.
"You are fucking welcome, sugar."
Pity job?
When it feels like the important conversation is over, she leans back in the armchair and finishes her drink. Negan does the same with his.
"Do you have any questions for me?"
Ali thinks for a moment. It sounds pretty straight forward. If Simon is going to be 'showing her the ropes', there are no immediate questions. Not for Negan.
She shakes her head, "No, sir."
He grunts, jerking his hips upwards. Ali gives him a weird look.
"I like that," he whispers.
He watches as she squirms under his stare, either enjoying it too much, or trying to figure her out.
"Can I go?" she asks quickly. Negan sighs deeply before nodding.
"Yes, darlin'," she stands up, "Be by the gates tomorrow morning. And don't be late."
She turns to walk towards the door, hearing him stand up and walk behind her. She reaches for the handle, gasping when she finds his warm hand already clutching it. His breath is in her hair.
"Let me get that for you," he whispers.
Ali steps sideways to let him open it. The cool air from the corridor hits her in the face. It is both a relief and an intensification at the same time.