A/N Thank so much to everyone reading, following, and marking this story as a favorite! If you haven't please leave a written review, I would love to hear your thoughts and comments on the story. Reviews really inspire me to write more!

Msgemgem: Crimson's a fighter and a survive, but fighting isn't always done with fists and weapons ;) She knows how to keep herself alive without sacrificing her own dignity, you'll see some of that in this chapter.

BaMBy666: I think it's pretty obvious to any TWD fan too, but I'm not saying anything until it's time for him to make his appearance ;)

Ks90, Aki Hotaru 16, coreyfiniff, aishiteru naru, and Guest: Thank you, I'm so happy you're enjoying the last chapter and the story so far!

Crimson focused on her breathing. In, out, in, out. It felt like a century before Negan final moved, that grin never leaving his face.

"You got one giant pair of balls for a chick," he said, leaning in until his lips were only centimeters from hers. "I like you, and you're right, I want you to like me too. So you got a deal, on two conditions: you get that little pink gun and a knife when you're outside Sanctuary walls. Inside, you get nothing. You show me that I can trust you and then you can have them all back inside and outside Sanctuary. And those doctor skills better be as good as you're claiming, or we'll have a problem. I don't like liars, and I don't give shit for free."

Crimson leaned back in her chair, distancing herself from Negan so she could stop her pounding heart. She smiled at him, the adrenaline rushing through her veins combined with the little bit of whiskey she'd drank was making her feel almost giddy, and over confident.

"I am that good," she said with a smile. "What's the second condition?"

"You have dinner with me, every night, zero exceptions." She raised a questioning eyebrow. "I want to get to know you. And who wouldn't want such a god damn gorgeous dinner companion?"

"Fine," she nodded. Always ask for more than you want when you're negotiating, and you'll get exactly what you need in the end. He actually gave more than she'd expected, the man was thinking with his dick. "I can accept those conditions." She took the last few bites of her potatoes and emptied her plate. "That was delicious, thank you. If you don't mind, I'd like to see my room now."

Negan nodded, set his own napkin on the table before he stood up and walked around the table to help her up.

"Thank you," she nodded to him. "Your manners certainly don't match that foul mouth of yours."

"I told you I'm a real fucking gentleman, doll. The room that was prepared for you was up here, with my wives, so you'll have to set up your place yourself tomorrow. It'll be fine for sleeping tonight though, if you're sure that's where you want to stay. The 9th floor are my best men, but they can be a little rowdier than me and you're an awfully big temptation."

"You said you don't tolerate rape, correct?"

"That's right."

"And you have complete control over everyone here at Sanctuary?"

"That I do."

"Then there shouldn't be anything for me to worry about," she smiled at him, almost mockingly.

He nodded his head then held his arm out to her and she took it immediately this time. The walk to the elevator was silent. He was letting her observe her surroundings. There was a man she hadn't seen before standing next to the elevator, an assault rifle casually resting in his arms. He snapped to attention and dropped to one knee as they approached.

"Who's that?" she asked.

"I keep guards on each floor. The smaller upper levels have one each, and you'll see a few wandering around the lower levels. They make sure everyone is following the rules, and keep the place from getting overrun if someone dies in their sleep in the middle of the night and no one notices until they're back up again."

Negan gently led her in to the elevator and hit the button labeled "9". When it dinged a moment later, he placed his free hand over hers on his arm. It was a subtle, yet possessive gesture.

The doors opened to reveal a hallway similar to Negan's 10th floor. It was long, with doors on both sides and a bathroom at the end. He guided her out of the elevator. Another guard was posted next to the elevator here. He dropped to knees the moment he saw Negan. It was ridiculous, the way people seemed to worship him. It left an uneasy feeling in her gut. She was observant and gifted at reading people, but crazy people were harder to predict.

The doors were all shut, but she could hear a TV coming from one. It took a moment for her to remember what the sound was, it seemed like a lifetime ago since the last time she'd seen a functioning TV. There wasn't much use for one when electricity was rare and noise attracted the dead.

"Simon's room is the largest," Negan pointed to the room directly below his office. "Dwight, Bud, Wade, and Paula are here right now, so you'll meet anyone you haven't already in the morning. There are a couple of rooms available near the back. Take the one closest to the staircase. All of my lieutenants share the same bathroom at the end of the hall, but I'd rather you take the one flight of stairs up and use the wives."

"I'm assuming Paula is a woman, so does she use the wives bathroom?"

"No, but she's proven herself to be one mean, coldhearted bitch and she's nowhere near as smoking hot as you. I'd rather avoid the appeal one might have accidently walking in on you naked. It'd be awfully hard for them to keep their hands to themselves. I sure as shit couldn't. And here we are." Negan opened the very last door to the left. "It's the biggest available."

Crimson stepped inside as he flipped the light switch on the wall for her. It was one large room, with a neatly made twin sized bed and short dresser against the left wall and a couch and coffee table in the middle. The right wall was lined with industrial cabinets with a sink and refrigerator. The sealed concrete flooring had chips and stains. It reminded her of an old laboratory, so maybe that's what this floor had been before.

"I'll show you around the rest of the place tomorrow. You can see your new clinic, and we'll head to the shops so you can get whatever you need. Get some rugs, TV, DVD player, some shit for the walls. This place looks fucking depressing right now. Meet me on the first floor, 8am sharp."

Crimson glanced around the room before she said, "There's no clock or alarm in here, so I can't guarantee I'll be there and ready by 8am. I'm not a morning person."

Negan thought for a moment before he turned and walked out. Crimson peaked her head out of the door so she could watch him, puzzled. He walked up to one of the doors across the hall and pounded on it for a minute, until it opened. Crimson couldn't see who was inside.

"Wade, you off tomorrow?" Negan asked him.

"Yeah Boss," she heard a man answer.

"Good. Give me your alarm clock."

"My…" the man was obviously confused.

"Did I fucking stutter? Give me your god damn alarm clock. Now."

Less than a minute later, Crimson saw a hand gripping a small black alarm clock poke out of the door. Negan snatched it and turned back towards her as the door closed. He brushed past her and set the alarm clock down on the dresser next to her new bed. She followed him back inside.

"Should I give that back to him in the morning?"

"No, he can go get another one himself tomorrow. The fridge isn't plugged in, so I'd get that going now so it'll be cold for you to fill up tomorrow." He gently ran his finger under her chin and tilted her face towards his. He leaned down, so close that she could feel his breath on her lips. Her heart was pounding in her chest again, so hard she could barely keep herself from shaking. "I'm gonna take good care of you doll, if you let me. Don't be late."

His hand dropped to his side and he made his way towards the door. He stopped in the doorway and turned back to her. "Keep this door locked when you're home. I'll get you a key tomorrow." And then he was gone, pulling the door shut behind himself.

Crimson took a deep breath, then did as he'd said and turned the deadbolt to lock the door. She leaned her back against and door and slid to the floor, pulling her knees up to her chest. Deadheads surrounding a heavily fenced creepy old factory, a very attractive and possibly crazy cult leader, big guys when guns down on their knees worshiping him like some kind of god. How long could she play this teasing game before he became angry at her turning him away? He was used to getting his way, it was obvious that no one said no to Negan. What did she get herself into?

Crimson didn't sleep well that night. The alarm went off at 7am and she practically jumped out of bed, tangled in the sheets, slapping her hand around on the bed searching for her gun. It only took a moment for yesterday's memories to come flooding back and she hit the alarm clock to silence it before she fell back onto the bed.

She'd slept deeply, the kind of sleep you can't get sitting in a tree, or locked in a cabin with the dead walking around outside where they could tear the house down if they realized a meal was waiting inside. She'd even dreamt. Pieces of dreams flashed through her mind. Negan's breath on her neck, rotting heads on pikes, a barbed wire covered wooden bat obliterating a skull. She sat back up and shook her head until the grogginess was gone.

The two small windows let in some sunlight, but not enough to wash away the dark, depressing feeling the room held. She was still wearing the clothes Sherry had given her the night before. She'd checked the dresser for clothes, hoping to find a shirt to sleep in, but no such luck. Her bladder was telling her it was time to get up, so she ran her fingers through her hair to tame it and made her way over to the door.

Purely out of habit, she stopped to listen before she opened the door. She could hear movement outside, and the murmuring of voices. It was time to make some friends, who better to start with than her new neighbors? She turned the bolt on the door and stepped out into the hall. Simon was there, and another man she didn't recognize. He was shorter than Simon, with straight brown hair, just long enough to fall in to his brown eyes. At first glance he didn't seem very intimidating, but movement and body language said differently.

"Well now," the shorter man said as he cocked his head to the side, smiling at her. It wasn't the type of smile that gave her a warm, fuzzy, friendly feeling. "What do we have here?" He had a soft, quiet voice. He looked and sounded like he'd been a paper pusher, peon office type before the world went to hell. Or maybe an overworked basic laborer who didn't have the balls to move up to management. Those guys were often the most dangerous, thinking they had something to prove. Crimson walked over them with a smile. After all, you caught more flies with honey.

"Bud," Simon said, "Meet Crimson. Crimson, Bud. We picked her up out on the run, brought her back last night. She's a doctor."

"A doctor, huh? You look a little young for a doctor," Bud said.

"I'm a smart girl," she said as she flashed him a bigger smile. "School didn't take me very long."

"That's a good thing for us then, we've been needing a good doctor." Bud slide his sleeve up, revealing a long cut on his forearm with very sloppy stitching. "Cut myself pretty good on a run the other day, that nurse we got didn't do a very good job stitching me up."

Crimson gently took his arm in her hands. She ran her thumb along the outside of the wound. The flesh was puckered and uneven, like some of the stitches were to loose, and others were too tight. She patted his hand before letting it go.

"I'm told I'll be down in my new clinic later today," she told him. "Come see me, I'll take those out and get you proper stitches so it'll heal better. That is, if you don't mind the pain. Can't waste painkillers or numbing agents on a non-life threating wound."

Bud grinned at her. "I don't mind at all."

"Simon, you have anything that needs to be looked at?"

"No ma'am," Simon replied, his eyes narrowed slightly at her, like he was trying to read her. He didn't smile at her and stood stiff as a board, his arms crossed over his chest.

She nodded to Bud, then Simon. "Alright then, good day, gentleman." She made her way to the stairs, pushed the steel door open and let it close behind her before she stopped to listen.

Crimson could just make out their words. Simson said something about Bud keeping his hands to himself. Bud asked why, and Simon informed him that Negan was very interested in fucking her, and apparently he didn't like to share. Bud didn't say anything else and then the sounds of heavy boots hitting floor echoed down the hall.

It was important to make friends with the lieutenants. You never knew when you would need a favor from someone, a favor that could mean life or death. And if anything even happened to Negan and leadership changed, she wanted to be in good standings with whoever stepped up. Most men didn't share Negan's no rape ideals. Bud was easy to read. Flash him a smile, stroke his ego a little, don't speak poorly of his leader, and he was done for.

Simon, on the other hand, was going to be a little more difficult. He was already suspicious of her. Maybe because he knew she killed one of their men, and kept a gun hidden from Negan. He knew she wasn't just a pretty face. If she hadn't jumped in and saved Negan, she'd still have that gun inside the walls of Sanctuary. She could only hope the rest of the lieutenants would be as easy as Bud. Except Paula, Crimson knew most women hated her so this Paula was likely to be as difficult as Simon, maybe more so.

It only took a minute to get up the stairs to the 10th floor. The hallway was empty when she opened the heavy door, Negan's door was closed, so she went straight to the bathroom and locked the door behind her. She quickly relieved herself, washed the dried sweat off of her face and neck in the sink and used the toothbrush and toothpaste she'd found still in their packaging last night. After she pulled her hair back into a ponytail, she pulled the door open and slammed straight into Negan's chest.

"Woah there doll!" Negan said, his large hands softly grabbed her arms to steady her. "Might want to watch where you're going."

"Sorry!" she exclaimed, her heart pounding in her chest again, the way it always seemed to when he was around.

"No worries, just don't fall down the fucking stairs or something. It's only 7:30, but if you're ready, I'll take you on your detailed tour of our home." He held his arm out for her so she took it.

"Did you need to use the bathroom before we go?"

"No, I have my own bathroom. None of my wives get up this early, so when I heard someone at this end of the hall, I figured it was you. Where would you like to start?" he asked on their way down the hall towards the elevator.

"Why don't we start with the main floor? Seems like most of the important things are down there, and I'd like to see my clinic soon."

"First floor it is," Negan said as he hit the button. "How'd you sleep?"

"Fine, thank you for asking. It was nice sleeping in a real bed and not worrying about being overrun by deadheads in the middle of the night."

"You sure as shit don't have to worry about that here. No one bothered you, right?"

"No. I saw Simon in the hall this morning, and met Bud. He seems nice."

"He is, if you stay on his good side. He has a habit of shooting people he doesn't like." The elevator dinged and the door glided open. "Let's start with the cafeteria, grab something to eat before we get to the fun stuff." He placed his free hand over hers again, like this was some sort of date.

As he led her down the hall, people, both adults and the occasional child, dropped to their knees and bowed their heads. Some muttered "Negan" to greet him before they did, others were silent. It was so unnerving, Crimson didn't know if she would ever get used to it. She never saw them standing when she glanced back over her shoulder, so they must have waited until Negan was completely out of sight before they stood up.

He took her through an open set of swinging double doors, she could see the doors were propped open at the base with door jams. The smell of cooking breakfast hit her nose and her mouth began to water. Hot oatmeal had never smelled so amazing. When she was on her own, breakfast usually consisted of a protein bar, stale crackers, a canned vegetable, or whatever wild berries she could find in the right season.

"That smells delicious," she told him. He brought her over at an empty table before sitting down next to her and nodding towards one of the cooks behind the serving counter. The cook immediately brought over two bowls with spoons and two small glasses of orange juice. Crimson noticed that no one else had orange juice, just water. It must cost extra.

"Oatmeal? This fucking sucks. Have breakfast with me tomorrow. You eat eggs?"

"Yes."

"Great! I'll have some eggs and potatoes cooked up in the morning for us."

"Where do you get eggs and all those fresh potatoes?" She couldn't hide the surprise in her voice.

"We have a farming community that supplies us. The good, fresh shit costs a lot of fucking points so you won't see it served in here. They get the pork and beef remnants for sausage when we get fresh meat in so nothing gets wasted. Don't eat in here on those days. That shit smells worse than dog food."

They finished their oatmeal in silence. Crimson watched as people walked by Negan, bowing their heads to him each time they passed. People came in, got in line, and checked in with the first man behind the counter who had a large notepad where he would make a mark for each person. He must have been keeping track of points. After they checked in, people moved down the line, got a bowl of oatmeal and glass of water, sat down at any table that wasn't Negan's, ate, then brought their bowls to a table by the door. Crimson stood up and went to grab her bowl, but Negan's hand caught hers.

"Leave it," he offered his arm to her again, and she took it. It was like she couldn't walk around the place without him. That, or she was some sort of trophy and he was letting everyone know she was off-limits. Or maybe both.

He took her further down the large hall, pointing out small things as they went, like a bathroom there or an office where they kept track of points and people could bring up minor concerns like a faulty faucet. Eventually they reached the rooms she'd had assumed were the marketplace, and she'd guessed correctly.

"Pick out whatever you want, let me know when you're ready and I'll show you your clinic. Don't take too long." Negan left her to speak to the shop keepers. She assumed he was letting them know she didn't need points for anything. She looked around the tables and noticed each item had a piece of paper with the number next to it, indicating the amount of points needed for each thing. She wasn't sure how much a point was truly worth, how much work went in to earning points and how many could realistically be earned.

The shops were somewhat organized, large shelving systems like you'd find in a small grocery store displayed them items. Food items were kept together, toiletries had a large section, electronics, clothes, and she noticed weapons were kept right next to one of the checkout counter.

Crimson found a hand basket and loaded it up with food. She found Poptarts that had only expired a year ago, a couple of cans of soup, a fresh loaf of bread along with a small jar of peanut butter and home canned grape jelly. She couldn't resist grabbing a couple cans of genuine Coca-Cola along with some bottled water. Then she moved on to the toiletries and grabbed a hair brush, a bar of soap, and dental floss. She grabbed a bottle of shampoo but remembered the wives' bathroom was fully stocked so she set it back down. There was a large section of books, so she grabbed a couple of Stephen King novels without looking at the titles, something to get her started until she could come back and browse when she wasn't on Negan's time.

In the clothing section, she found a couple of plain fitted women's t-shirts in her size, so she grabbed them along with another pair of jeans, and a 6 pack of plain women's underwear. There were no bras in her size, and no other jeans or pants that would fit her. She brought her basket over to the counter, where Negan was still talking to the shop keeper behind the counter. He was casually leaning on his arm that was resting on the counter, like he didn't know how cocky he looked standing like that. There was a 32" flat panel TV and DVD player next to him.

"Good morning Ma'am," the shopkeeper greeted her. He was a portly looking older man who didn't look like he'd survive too long on his own outside of these walls. "I'm George. Did you find everything alright?"

"Yes, I did. Pleasure to meet you George, I'm Crimson."

"You didn't want to grab anything to spruce up that depressing ass room?" Negan asked, then gestured towards the TV with his thumb. "This is the biggest TV anyone is allowed. No need to waste power on anything else bigger."

"That will be fine, thank you. I didn't see anything I liked. If I can go out on a run this week, I can get some things from some houses nearby."

"I'll arrange an outing for you tomorrow. There's a housing development about 30 minutes away that we haven't taken the non-essentials from yet, all still full of that house-wife went crazy decorating shit." The shopkeeper took a note of each item she took and she unconsciously raised an eyebrow. "He's not marking points, just the inventory log. We keep track of everything that comes and goes. There have been a few times shit went missing and I had to beat the piss out of the thief when we caught them. Come on, let's go see your clinic."

This time she took his arm without his offering and he smiled down at her.

A/N: Sorry this was a slow chapter, but it was necessary to start really setting up what Sanctuary looks like, how Negan is going to treat Crimson, and for her to have some interaction with people other than Negan. The next chapter will be more exciting, I promise!