A/N This is a little shorter than my last few chapters, but I felt the stopping point was a good end to a chapter and already started the next one. Thank you to everyone who followed and favorited! As always, please leave a review!

msgemgem: I'm still new to writing the smut scenes, so you probably didn't miss much, haha! You'll have some more Negan/Crimson in the future. I don't want to rush things, but it is the zombie apocalypse so life is short and moves along a lot faster.

BaMby666: Everyone needs a little Daryl loving sometimes ;) We'll see more Daryl, in the past and future.

Enchantmenanjel: So glad you liked the flashback! I really wasn't sure how well I'd written it, so thank you

EmilyAnnMcGarret-Winchester: Welcome to my story, I hope you continue to enjoy it! Negan is the man that I love, and I hate, and I then I love. I can't get him out of my head, thus the start of this story.

Celia azul: Merle never grew on my quiet the way that Negan has, but I definitely know what you mean! Enjoy this chapter!

Survivormomof4: Thanks for reading, I look forward to hearing what you think of future chapters!

Ashyyyflower: Thank you so much! Daryl has such a unique speech pattern, I spend a lot of time trying to get it just right because so many people don't and I can't read a story with Daryl when he's either speaking perfect English, or his slang is so overdone that he sounds like he doesn't even speak English at all. He's so reserved and shy about himself, but he still opens up to people once he lets them in, so he's just a hard guy to write in general.

Starrat, KEZZ 1, and Phox: Thanks for reviewing, please enjoy this chapter and leave another one!

It didn't take Crimson long to organize her new things. She changed into one of the t-shirts she'd picked up at the market. She'd managed to stay fairly clean when she took down the dead heads, but she still had a little blood spatter on her shirt. She was usually efficient with her time so she should have had everything settled in its new place in 15 minutes, but her mind was wandering. Negan was swimming through her thoughts, no matter how hard she tried, he wouldn't leave. He was as stubborn in her mind as he was in her life. She glanced at her gun and knife sitting on the table. He was starting to trust her and in return, she was trusting him.

She put the shirt in a pile with her new clothes and bedding. Bud had told her he would send one of the laundry girls up to fetch her bedding and clothing so it could be washed before she used it. The woman was prompt, arriving only a 30 minutes after Crimson started unpacking the suitcase. She knocked quietly on the door, Crimson called for her to come in, she hadn't locked the door.

"Hello Ma'am," the older woman said after she closed the door behind her, an empty laundry basket in her arms. She looked like she'd been living a hard life, even before. Her skin was pale, leathery, with deep set wrinkles. Her brown hair was dry and dull, her clothes were faded and worn. "I'm here for you laundry."

"Hi, I'm Crimson," she smiled at her. "What's your name?"

"Danielle."

"It's all piled right there, next to the bed."

"I'll have it back to you first thing in the morning. Negan said your stuff is a priority."

"There's no rush, but thank you Danielle." Danielle gathered Crimson's laundry into the basket and left quietly.

Crimson neatly stacked her books and DVDs on top of the counter. It reminded her that she needed to find a bookcase. She looked at the clock, she had about an hour before Negan would come get her for dinner, so she grabbed a book and curled up on one end of the couch, her legs tucked underneath her while she propped herself up against the armrest. The sun had just set and it was getting cool inside, so she pulled a blanket over her lap.

She was really enjoying the adventures of Bilbo Baggins, not even realizing how much time had passed when she heard another knock on her door, so she called out for the person to come in. She looked up to see Negan, Lucille slung across his shoulders and she gave him a smile.

"What the fuck did I tell you about keeping this damn door locked?" he asked.

"I'll lock it before I go to sleep. Since you so kindly let me keep my .380," she pointed to the gun on the table, easily within her reach, "I can shoot any marauders that come in to try and have their way with me."

"I don't give a shit. Keep this door locked, 24/7. Now come on, I'm fucking hungry, dinner's waiting."

She made a mental note of what page she was on and that she needed to find something to use as a book mark. She set the Hobbit down on the coffee table before she uncurled herself from the couch and folded up the blanket.

"You cold?" Negan asked.

"It's a little chilly," she answered. Negan dropped Lucille down to his side, threw his arm around her shoulder and pulled her into him. She could feel the warmth of his body through his leather jacket.

"I know a great way to warm you right on up," he grinned down at her and gave her a wink. Crimson huffed and tried to push his arm off of her. "I'm just fucking with you. Well, unless you want to, then I'm not. But I think we're friends now, right? Friends can walk around like this." He reached down and placed her arm around his waist. "Didn't you get yourself some warmer clothes today?"

"I did, but they're being washed. I'm supposed to have them back in the morning." Negan lead her out to the hall, leaned Lucille against the wall so he could locked her door with his free hand. Apparently he also had a key to her room. "Craig," he called out to the guard down the hall as he picked the bat back up. He looked up at Negan as he was kneeling. "Tell laundry to have Crimson's shit ready by tonight." Craig nodded and Negan walked her into the elevator.

Dinner was waiting for them, a fire roaring in the fireplace and candles were lit on the dining table.

"Nice ambiance, but if you're trying to romance me into your bed, it's not going to work." His gloved fingers were stroking the bare skin on her arm and she couldn't suppress a shudder. "Nothing is going to work."

"I know, I know, not as long as I'm a married man. Just relax and sit down." He pulled her seat out for her after he set Lucille down. She realized they were developing some sort of twisted route. He took his seat across from her and pulled off their plate warmers. The smell of burritos and Mexican rice hit her nose as she picked up her fork and started in on it. Beans, cheese, lettuce, and tomato wrapped in a deliciously soft tortilla. "I want to make something perfectly clear for tomorrow. You do not leave my side. Not for one, single, god damned second. Pickups usually go smoothly, but I'm not taking any chances, especially after you ran off like some fucking warrior princess and could have got yourself killed."

"There were only three of them, it wasn't a big deal."

"What would you have done if there'd been 20 of those fucks in there?"

"The same thing I did to the three. Only you might have made it in time for you and Lucille to take care of a few. I know you wouldn't let anything happen to me."

"Feeding my ego isn't getting you out of trouble, good fucking try though baby doll." His eyes narrowed and his jaw clenched. "You don't go more than 10 feet away from me outside those walls tomorrow. Got it?" Crimson nodded.

"I heard someone talking about an outpost. Not everyone lives here?"

"We have a couple of outposts. They're mostly for storage, keep our supplies spread out in case someone is fucking dumb enough to attack Sanctuary. Each one has a crew of my Saviors. We usually bring supplies straight to an outpost, then move it here. I don't like too many people knowing where home base is."

"That's smart. Do you have any farming or livestock operations at the outposts?"

"No, I keep my soldiers there, not fucking farmer Joe."

"Is it really smart to rely on people you subjugate for your food and supplies?"

"It is when they're too damn scared to do anything other than follow my fucking orders. I leave a… lasting impression the first time I introduce myself."

"I'm sure you do. I can see how much you love to put on a good show."

"That's fucking right. Simon runs most of the pickups, we don't have problems. The last pick up from the Kingdom, where we're going tomorrow, it was lighter than I like. That's why I'm going along, make a personal appearance."

Their conversation continued on casually through dinner. Negan wanted to know more about her, about things she enjoyed before the end of the world came around, her favorite food and drinks, even her favorite movies. They played quid pro quo, she asked the same questions of him. They had more in common than she would have ever guessed. They were both avid readers, though she didn't share his love of a fat, juicy steak. Their plates were long empty by the time they were discussing their favorite authors and debating the meaning behind novels they'd both read. She was laughing when she finally glanced at the clock on his desk, she realized the time.

"Oh my god," she exclaimed. "It's 1am! Where the hell did the time go?"

"Time flies in such damn fine company."

"I need to get to sleep. We're supposed to be heading out at 8."

"We can always continue this in my bedroom with a couple of glasses of whiskey."

"Nice try, but I'll be heading back to my own bed. Thank you for dinner and the conversation, it was lovely." She folded her napkin and placed it on the table.

"I'll walk you back to your room." She took his offered arm and he led her down the hall. "I hope you're feeling at home here, Doc. Whatever you need, you let me know."

"I think this place will be sustainable, with some adjustments," she told him.

"What kind of adjustments? I think run a pretty tight fucking ship around here."

"I'm still observing, so I'm not ready to make a real judgement yet."

"You tell me when you are. That'll be a good dinner conversation for another night." They reached her room and she unlocked her door. She noticed a basket of clean laundry sitting in the hall, next to her door. Negan leaned his shoulder against the doorway when she stepped inside.

"Thank you," she said. "Really, tonight almost felt like a normal night, the kind of normal we had before the dead started walking around."

His hand brushed against her cheek when he tucked a tendril of loose hair behind her ear. He gently cupped the back of her neck, his fingertips were dancing on her skin, setting it afire.

"I'm going to kiss you goodnight now, Doc."

"Negan, don't," she said, placing her hands on his chest to try and distance them. His thumb swept across her lower lip.

"I can't stop thinking about these god damn gorgeous lips of yours. I know you've been thinking about me too. That kiss was un-fucking-forgettable." Before she knew what was happening, his lips were on hers, her body pressed against his strong chest by an arm locked around her waist. It was different this time, slow and sensual, but no less powerful. She whimpered against his mouth when his tongue asked for entrance. She yielded to him, slipping her arms around his neck, pressing closer into him, desperate to feel all of him. Time ceased to exist as his tongue stroked hers, one hand held the back of her neck, thumb stroking her cheek. The other softly held her hip, each movement of his fingers sending a surge of warm wetness between her legs. Each kiss grew more urgent than the next, soon she was gasping for breath when he broke the kiss, leaning his forehead against hers. When she opened her eyes, she saw that his were closed.

"Negan," she spoke softly.

"Yeah, baby doll?"

"Goodnight." She placed a chaste kiss on his lips before she pulled out of his arms and shut the door. A minute later, she heard his boots echoing down the hall. After she heard the stairwell door shut, she opened her door and dragged in her laundry then locked her door.

Was this how 'the other woman' felt? When she wanted a married man? Crimson couldn't ignore the fact that he shared his bed with other women. That those women felt his lips on theirs, and on other places Crimson had been dreaming they would go. But she also couldn't ignore how much she was enjoying his company, how he could make her smile and laugh, and how a single touch set her body ablaze.

What the hell was she doing?

She woke to a pounding on her door, someone was yelling her name. She quickly snatched her gun from under her pillow and jumped to her feet. There was nothing that could wake her up faster than the sounds of chaos.

"Who is it?" She called out, standing next to the door in a pair of yoga pants and a loose t-shirt.

"It's Bud, we got a situation and need you down in the clinic, quick!"

She unlocked the door and found a very disheveled Bud, covered in blood spatter, smelling like dead, rotting flesh. He firmly grasped her arm and led her straight to the elevator. She was glad she slept in a pair of socks that night, she hadn't thought to grab her shoes.

"What happened? Are you alright?"

"I'm fine, but we got another man, he got bit on the ankle. We already took his foot off, above the bite, but we can't get the bleeding to stop." They were at the clinic in no time. Saviors were all over her clinic, she had to shoulder her way in. There was a man she didn't recognize on the exam table. She jumped up on a chair so she could shout above the noise of the crowd.

"I need everyone except Nancy, Simon, and Bud out of here, now! You're welcome to wait in the hall, but if you want this man to live, get the hell out, right now so I can get to work!" It didn't take long for them to shuffle out, and she could hear murmurs of conversation behind the closed door. She quickly assessed the man on the table. Someone had used a belt for a tourniquet at the top of his thigh and covered the wound with a rag. He was pale and weak from blood loss, moaning in pain, but he was still slightly conscious. His remaining leg was pale and cool to the touch, so she undid the belt before the lack of circulation caused him to lose the rest of it. She didn't dare touch the blood soaked rag covering the stump at the end of his lower left leg until she was ready. "Bud and Simon, wash your hands and get a pair of gloves. Nancy, I need clean water for washing him, alcohol, gauze, clamps, forceps, scalpel, iodine and water in a wash bottle, and dissolvable and regular sutures. I also need you to pull up a proper dose of bupivacaine, I know I saw it in the cabinet the other day. There's a book on medication and dosages on the counter if you aren't sure."

Crimson slipped on a lap coat and a face mask, washed her hand right after Bud and Simon, then pulled on a pair of gloves. She looked up when the door opened and Negan stepped in. He closed the door and leaned against the wall with Lucille, out of the way. Nancy parked a small rolling cart next to Crimson, complete with two filled wash bottle, clamps, forceps, scalpel, alcohol, gauze, sutures, and a full syringe. Crimson double checked the bottle on the cart to make sure it was bupivacaine.

"Thank you. Simon, I'll need you to hold his shoulders and Bud, you get his leg. I can't have him moving. This is going to numb him but it takes up to 10 minutes to kick in and we can't wait 10 minutes to start."

"I got his leg," Negan said as he approached.

"No, your hands aren't clean, but you can hold his arms down. Nancy, be ready to hand me that wash bottle and the forceps." When everyone was ready a moment later, she wiped around outside of the leg near the wound with alcohol soaked gauze then injected the anesthetic in to 6 different locations.

"Am I gonna die?!" the man asked in a panic.

"I won't let you die. But I need you to hold very still. This is going to hurt." Then she pulled the bloodied rag from the leg and washed away as much blood as she could with the bottle until she could see the area most of the blood was coming from. The moment the forceps dug into his flesh, the man was thrashing and screaming, but the three men were able to keep his leg from moving much. It took a minute, but she was able to find the artery and clamp it with the forceps. She used the scalpel the cut away damaged tissue and form enough of the skin flap to fold it over. The man had quieted, he had passed out, but was still breathing. She washed the entire wound with the iodine, rinsed it with clean water, and stitched him up, dissolvable sutures for the artery and regular for the exterior leg.

She dropped her bloodied tools back into the cart and tossed her gloves on top. The clock on the wall read 3:17am. The adrenaline that was pumping through her during the surgery was wearing off, so she leaned against the counter top.

"Great job everyone, thank you."

"Nice work, Doc," Simon said. His face said he was sincere, almost respectful, very different than the usual distrust he gave her.

"Thank you. You all can go, get some sleep, I'll stay here with him. What's his name?" Crimson asked.

"Jerry," Negan answered. "Nancy will stay with him. You need to get back to bed. You look like shit."

She didn't even have to energy to rip him a new one for his rudeness. She just nodded, told Nancy to give Jerry his first dose of injectable penicillin and monitor him for any negative reaction to either medication, and followed Negan out into the hall. Several men were still waiting.

"Jerry is going to be find gentleman. He's resting now. You all get some sleep and you can see him tomorrow."

There were several murmurs of "Thanks" and "Thanks, Doc" as the men dispersed. She followed Negan down the maze of hallways towards the elevator.

"You weren't lying," Negan said.

"About?" she asked him to explain.

"Being damn good at your job."

She propped herself against the corner of the elevator when they entered. She closed her eyes, they were so heavy she could barely keep them open. She hadn't even realized she'd fallen asleep until she woke up. The only problem was, she wasn't in her room, and there was an arm around her waist attached to the warm chest pressed against her back.