A/N Thank you everyone for your patience! I'm almost done with wedding season and will be able to update on a more regular basis in about a month. I hope you are all enjoying it, if you are, please review! I also wanted to let everyone know that this story is starting around the start of season 6 which to me should be around 3 years from the start of the outbreak. I know the thought is that it's only around 2 years, but I already said it was about 3 earlier, so I'm going to stick with that. Plus I think Judith is around 2 years old in season 6, so if Lori got pregnant after the outbreak, it would make it around 3 years. When we catch up to season 7, I will be trying to keep the story as in line with the actual plot as possible, but since I already have major plot points and the end in mind, it end up being at least a little AU. Enjoy the chapter!

Minutes felt like hours as the trucks rumbled down the highway. It was bumpy, and her feet couldn't reach the ground from Negan's lap so the only thing that kept her from bouncing off of his lap was the arm he had around her waist. He held her tight against him, her back was flush with his chest. His wide, muscular and extremely masculine chest. His hand hadn't stopped playing with her hair. He was casually twirling it around his fingers, like it was an afterthought he didn't realize he was doing. But Crimson knew that he knew exactly what he was doing. He kept brushing his fingertips down her spine, or softly down the back of her bare arm. And she could smell him, Negan smelled like the woods, pine, dirt, a hint of pheromone filled sweat and it reminded her so much of… him…

After a year of searching for him, she couldn't even think his name anymore. She had to move on, had to survive and to do that she had to put herself first. No one else mattered, not unless there was something they could give her, something like food, water, temporary safety. Though she rarely relied on anyone else for safety anymore, that's how you got yourself killed.

Thankfully the ride had been silent since the trucks started moving. They were heading northeast on highway, further than she had ever travelled since the outbreak.

"Boss, what happened to Jason?" the man driving the truck was the first to speak.

"Fucking idiot didn't pay any fucking attention to where he was going and got himself killed," Negan answered. "He was a worthless sack of shit anyways. I don't know why you always insisted he come along."

"He was a decent tracker."

"Couldn't tell his foot from his asshole. Bring Sammy next time you want a tracker."

"Ok Boss."

"Well now Sweetcheeks, I didn't introduce everyone, did I? How fucking rude of me."

"More or less rude than your forcing me to sit on your lap and pawing at me like a dog in heat?" Crimson replied. Negan laughed.

"That little mouth of yours, I love it now, but I'm going to love it even more when it's wrapped around my cock."

"Unless you were lying about your 'very strict no rape policy,' that's never going to happen."

"We'll see about that." His left hand finally stopped playing with her hair and pointed to the driver. "That's Simon, my right hand man."

She turned her head to look at him. His hair was like a wild brown and gray wiry mop on his head, and matched his 80s porn star mustache. He was thin, like everyone was these days, and he leered at her.

"If Simon doesn't keep his eyes to himself I'll dig them out of his skull with the first thing I find." Negan laughed again. The men in the back gave a nervous chuckle.

"You might be acting like a damn prude right now, but I'd bet all 3 of my wives that you are a fucking firecracker in bed."

"Only for a real man, the kind that doesn't have to kidnap his women."

"I'm saving your life doll, big fucking difference. You'll figure shit out eventually and then you'll be thanking me. But, where was I? Oh yeah, back there we have Mike, Dan, and Randy." She glanced at them, to register faces to each name, then turned back to staring out of the windshield. They were the lead truck, so there was nothing but empty road in front of them. They must have cleared any disabled cars and roadblocks on the way out.

"I wasn't a damsel in distress and I have no desire to be here so I'd call that…" She stopped midsentence when the stench hit her nostrils. The air conditioning was running, which felt amazing compared to the heat outside and it blew in the all too familiar putrid, sharp stench of rotting flesh. The kind of smell that only came from the dead that were still walking around. "Stop!" Her voice was calm, but firm. Simon hit the brakes at the same time she commanded.

"Yeah, I smell it too," Negan said as he picked up a pair of binoculars from the open console between the seats. "Fuck. Big group of them up ahead, walking straight for us. Must have heard the trucks when they were crossing the road. Bad fucking timing on our part." He picked up the radio and she heard the click of the button. His chin was hovering just over her shoulder so he could speak into it. "We got about 30 or 40 dead fuckers up ahead. Pull the trucks up next to us. I want a man with a scoped rifle on top of each truck to get rid of most of them before they reach us, and keep them off our backs. Everyone else gear up from some real fucking fun."

He opened the door and slid out from underneath her, easily lifting her up and setting her back down on the seat. The other men climbed out of the truck as the other two trucks pulled up on each side of them.

"Can I have my knife back?" Crimson asked.

"Nah, you're gonna stay right here doll. I'll take care of these guys and we'll be back on our way home before you know it." He left before she could respond. She watched him walk around to the front of the truck and lean back against it like there wasn't a herd of flesh eating dead guys walking straight towards him. She could see the tip of his barbed-wire bat as he swung it around, waiting. The stench was getting stronger and she could see them in the distance now, slowly stumbling towards the living. "Don't let them make to the trucks. If I have to smell this shit all the way home because there's blood and guts stuck all over them, I'll bash one of your fucking heads in."

She heard a chorus of "Yeah Boss!" from the men. The popping of the rifles started and she could see the bodies dropping in the road. They were starting with the ones in the front, which slowed the herd down when they started tripping over the truly dead ones. It was a great strategy. They had the herd down the maybe 15 when they were only a hundred feet out and Negan and his men started towards them, knives (or bat) in hand. It would have gone down perfectly if another 30 or so didn't start pouring out from either side of the road, right next to the trucks. Negan was on the ground with 8 other men, no match for close combat. The gunfire went crazy. They were panicking, the rifles on the roof were firing faster than they should for accurate shots.

Lucky for her, the other guys had shut the truck doors when they climbed out. Negan was the only one that left a door open, so Crimson shut it as quietly as possible. All she had to do now was wait for the dead heads to finish them all off, lay low in the truck for a few hours until the dead finished their snacks and moved on, then she would be free to grab her things and continue on her way. She ducked down in her seat enough that she could watch the action, but the dead wouldn't notice her.

The men were yelling now. The guys topside were doing a decent enough job of keeping the dead heads from fulling enclosing the group, their backside closest to the trucks was still clear, and they were slowly being pushed back towards her from all other sides. The rifle fire was slowing down. "I'm out!" She heard someone yell from on top of her truck. "Me too!" Another one echoed.

So far only 2 men had disappeared into the crowd of dead heads. They were organized, she'd give them that much, but they were panicking and it showed. Some knives were landing in jaws or necks, not skulls. Guns were firing rapidly, emptying clips too fast and not taking enough dead heads down with them. Just a few more minutes and she'd be a free woman again. She smirked to herself.

All rifle fire had ceased, but she didn't see those men getting down and joining the fight on the ground. She scoffed at them, cowards. If you joined a group, you protected that group. If you only wanted to look out for yourself, then keep to yourself.

Negan was the only one still fighting with any reason. He still had his head on straight. He swung his bat so gracefully, each movement fluidly following the last. One or two dropped with each swing. She was fascinated watching him. The way he turned, so light on his feet, bring the bat straight down hard on one and bringing it right up through the next head. He planned, he knew exactly what he was going to do before he moved. She was so enthralled with him, she almost didn't notice the three dead heads coming up from behind him.

She didn't think, she acted. The truck door hadn't even finished swinging open before she jumped out. Her left hand held on to the door frame to steady her landing while her right hand reached under her shirt to grab the small gun Negan had missed on his search. She loved her bra holster for that very reason. The only way anyone found it was if they were feeling her up, and while his words and looks may have been rude, his hands had stayed in appropriate areas.

One foot hit the ground and she was already running. One was just grabbing the back of Negan's jacket, rotten teeth wildly snapped for his neck when she took aim and fired. Negan was already spinning around towards her when it dropped and she quickly fired twice more, bullets finding their mark in the backs of the dead head's skulls. There were 7 dead left, and 5 living on the ground, Negan included.

Negan's eye grew wide with surprise when she aimed straight for his head, and almost didn't move when she said, "Duck." But he did, and she fired 4 more times, dropping a dead head with each shot. 3 left. Simon's knife sunk into the temple of one while Negan swung around and took out the last 2 with one move. The men were panting with exhaustion, and they were all covered in dark, coagulated, sticky blood with bits of rancid flesh mixed in. The 3 men on top of the trucks were climbing back to the ground when Negan turned back to her and snatched the gun from the palm of her waiting hand. He turned the S&W .380 Bodyguard over before he spoke.

"This ain't one of my guns sweetheart, so where the fuck did it come from?" There was a moan from the ground, one of Negan's fallen men was waking up, hungry white eyes staring up at them. "Simon, take care of them. Should be 4 from my count." Then he turned back to her, waiting for her answer. Crimson saw Simon slide his knife into the base of the skull, then search through the seas of bodies to find the other 3.

"Not even a thank you for saving your ass? You really are very rude."

"You get the biggest fucking thank you I can offer, letting you live after you managed to hide a gun from me. Now where was it?" He was angry, there wasn't a trace of the playful tone she'd been hearing in his voice.

He raised an eyebrow when she reached up under her shirt, and he could see her fingers moving between her breasts.

"If you needed someone to play with your tits, all you gotta do is ask. Watching you work was hottest thing I've seen in a while and I'm fucking pissed so we can have a nice hot, angry fuck in the back of the truck. These shit heads can wait a while."

"Fuck off," she answered as she pulled the bra holster from under her shirt and handed it to him. "I want that back too. It was custom made."

Negan looked at it with surprise. "What in the fuck? A god damned bra holster? I've never seen that shit before! Couldn't even feel it when I patted you down. No fucking wonder you wanted me to be a gentleman!" He laughed. "That's fucking funny." He slipped the holster in his pocket when he turned towards his men. She saw the smile slip from his face and quickly as it appeared. "You know what isn't fucking funny? You three spineless pieces of shit." He pointed Lucille at the three men who had been on top of the trucks. One of them was Mike, who'd been riding in the truck with them. "We were out of ammo, and you were just going to let them have at us. Not fucking cool. I'll show you how not fucking cool when we get home." He looked over at Simon and the remaining men who had fought on the ground with him. "Tie them up, we'll hand out punishments when we get back."

He walked over to the truck and pulled a rag out from the door along with a bottle of water. He unzipped his blood covered jacket and tossed it on the floor. He had a plain black t-shirt on underneath that was somehow clean. He tilted his head back and poured the water over his head, rinsing some of the blood from his face and hair. Crimson had to stop herself from nibbling at her bottom lip as she watched beads of water dripping down neck. He caught her staring as he threw the empty bottled into the truck.

"You keep telling me to keep my hands to myself, but your eyes sure do say you want to fuck me right now." She scoffed at him and rolled her eyes. He was wiping his hands and face clean with the rag. She looked around, everyone else was out of sight around the front of the trucks. She could hear the cowards protesting restraints. When she looked back up, Negan was right in front of her. How could a man so large move so quietly? He reached up and brushed a stray lock of hair from her face and leaned in. She could feel the stubble of his beard against her cheek as his lips almost brushed her ear. Her heart was pounding in her chest and she struggled to keep her breath even and calm.

"You know," he whispered, "if you still want that thank you for saving my ass, I'll show you exactly how fucking thankful I am in my bed tonight."