Here's a long, Georgia-centric chapter, since I've left her alone for so long. This time, we finally see what she feels about Negan. ;)

This one takes place in S7E8, if it isn't already obvious enough. I altered some stuff, but if I did it right then y'all shouldn't notice most of it. (Also, there's not that many cuss words in this one. Boring, right?)

Kindly forgive any spelling or grammar errors. I don't have a beta and this was written in the dead of night with me running on fumes and coffee. But otherwise: enjoy!

For what must have been the fifth time during that single car ride, Georgia glanced over her shoulder and into the backseat, at the kid that had single-handedly infiltrated Sanctuary and killed two men. And for the fifth time, Rick the Prick's kid turned his gaze away from the window and stared right back at her. Negan still hadn't let him put his eye patch back on. Georgia was the first to look away.

"If he scares you that much, why don't you just fucking kill him?" Negan said.

"I'm not gonna kill a fucking kid, Negan."

"Then stop giving him the stink eye. It's annoying," he said. Georgia rolled her eyes; he sounded more amused than irritated. "Do I take a right here or what, kid?"

The kid, Carl, shook his head. "Just straight ahead."

Georgia wished there was a partition she could pull up so he wouldn't hear what she had to say. How could Negan trust him so easily? What if he was leading them to some sort of ambush or, God forbid, a herd of Roamers? It wasn't entirely impossible. Rick's group would have been smart enough to close off a herd instead of killing them off. What if Carl knew where it was and he was leading them straight to it?

She couldn't tell any of that to Negan, of course. He had found himself a new pet and was enjoying every minute of it. Scowling, she tightened her grip on her gun. If Negan wasn't going to look out for himself then she'd do it for him. The Saviors wouldn't like it if she returned to Sanctuary without their boss in one piece.

"There it is." Grinning, Negan took a right turn and, indeed, there it was.

Georgia had never been to the so-called walled city before. She had thought that Negan's description of the fortifications was hyperbolic, larger than life, but she was wrong. Still, she refused to be impressed, staring up at the walls. They were certainly tall, but a large enough herd could overpower the supports, and the entirety would come crashing down.

In a fancy motion, Negan brought forth Lucille and knocked her against the front gate. The brown tarpaulin was pulled to the side and a man peeked out. Between the unexpected sights of Negan, Carl, and Georgia (otherwise an alien to the people of Alexandria), his eyes couldn't have gotten any wider.

He quickly unlocked the gates and just like that, they were inside Rick's precious metropolis. Georgia couldn't blame him for protecting it so selfishly. Since the world ended, she thought she'd never be able to see something so normal again, something so perfect. She was wrong. Alexandria was perfect.

It had proper houses, proper bedding, running water – she even caught a glimpse of a playground, in full working condition and untouched by Roamers. Alexandria had streetlights, and it even had a church. (She would never even consider stepping foot in it, but the thought of the building was there. Who could still believe in God?)

"Beautiful, right?" Negan said. Georgia's wonder must have been on full display. She hurriedly tried to hide it.

"These are the assholes that got you to shave?"

"These are the assholes that have been sheltering the actual assholes that got me to shave."

Georgia smirked, though she didn't miss the righteous anger that flashed across Carl's face. Staring warily at the back of his head, she trailed behind as the kid led them to their house, per Negan's orders. The rest of the troops from Sanctuary stayed behind to gather the supplies.

Once they were standing on the porch of a peach California Bungalow, Negan brought Lucille up again and knocked four times.

A portly young woman opened the door. She froze as soon as she saw Negan, mouth hanging open in surprise. Negan stepped forward and she was forced to make way, opening the door wider. Georgia gave her a sideways glance, a warning, before following after Negan.

Carl shared a few words with the woman, nothing that suggested danger. Still, Georgia kept her eye on them as she explored the bungalow. Everything was so clean.

"Great, great, great, great, great, great!" A quick glance up and Georgia saw that Negan was in one of his good moods; his tongue kept running over his teeth as he smiled. "Where's Rick?" he asked.

The portly woman struggled for an answer. "I… Um, I—I just—"

"Don't care," Negan interrupted, still smiling. "Where's Rick?"

"Uh… Out. Scavenging. For you."

"Cool. I'll wait."

"H—He went out pretty far. They might not be back today." If Negan kept up the intimidating aura, Georgia was sure that the lady was going to start choking. She was so nervous. And then the smallest hint of bravado crept in behind the glasses, ever so slowly. "We're running really low on everything. We're practically starving here."

Georgia had to hide a smile behind her hand, pretending to scratch her nose. Although he was facing away from her, she knew that Negan was smiling as well. "'Starving.' You," he said. "By practically, you mean not really."

Silence reigned for a few seconds and then the woman's face crumpled. She began sobbing and hid her face from view. Negan turned to face Carl and threw him a disbelieving look. "Really? You people seriously don't have a sense of fucking humor."

When he met her gaze, Georgia just shrugged indifferently and promptly raided the pantry. His conversation with the fat woman continued: "Excuse me… what's your name again?"

"Olivia." It was said through gritted teeth.

"Right. Olivia…"

The woman's sniffling stopped. She turned to face Negan, surprise evident on her face, and it was then that Georgia noticed he had his hand on her arm. Jealousy reared its ugly head; she wanted to kill it with a shotgun. But as it was, she could only clamp down hard on it and let nature take its course. If Negan wanted to flirt, he could go right ahead. She didn't have the right to be jealous. Even his wives didn't have that right.

"I am sorry for having been so rude to you just now," he said. "It looks like we're gonna be here for a while, awaiting your fearless leader's return. And if you'd like, I think it would be enjoyable to screw your brains out. I mean if, you know, you were agreeable to it—"

There was the resounding clap of skin on skin. Olivia had slapped him. Oddly enough, Georgia couldn't bring herself to care. A slap would hardly kill Negan, and for some reason, she was sure that he wouldn't kill Olivia either. Ultimately, Georgia's interest in a refrigerator had never been so intense than in that moment.

"I am about fifty percent more into you now. Just sayin'," Negan said in a hushed, raspy tone that Georgia still heard. She bit the inside of her cheek. "Alright, well, I'm just gonna put my feet up and wait for my stuff to get here. Olivia, would you be a lamb and make us a little lemonade? Now I know I left y'all some of that good powdered stuff."

"B—But I'm not supposed to—"

"Make it." Negan raised his voice. Georgia finally pulled her head out of the fridge and turned her concentration to the dining room, arms crossed. Sanctuary's fearless leader had his smoldering gaze on helpless, fat Olivia. "Make it. Take your time. Make it good."

With that, Olivia brushed past him and exited the house. Negan turned and threw Georgia a little smirk, as if they were sharing a joke. She just raised an eyebrow, unimpressed.

"Hey, kid," she said, waiting for Carl to look over at her. "While waiting for your dad, you mind giving us a tour? I'm bored."

He was obviously skeptic about the idea – it was clear as day on his face – but one look at Negan and he knew better than to question them. Nodding, he said, "Follow me."

The flooring was carpeted nicely in the second floor. Negan took his boots off as soon as they had climbed the staircase. Georgia would have been lying if she'd said that she wasn't tempted to do the same, but she had more respect than him. Carl looked like he was about to open a vein.

Negan enjoyed the running water a little too much; even went so far as to wash his hair in the shower while Georgia waited with Carl in the bedroom. The awkwardness was palpable.

They spent a little more time in the games room. Negan played some darts while Georgia raided the DVD case; then he put her up to a game of Foozeball. She flashed back to the times she had played the very same game in college while she was drunk. As she played with Negan, the giddy smile on his face brought her more joy than she was willing to admit.

But it was their time in the next room that well and truly screwed her over.

Carl was more adamant on keeping them out of this one than all the others. This, of course, piqued Negan's interest. With a twinkle in his eye, he turned the knob and pushed the door open. All three of them froze at the same time – Carl in apprehension, Negan in overexcitement, and Georgia in disbelief.

It was a baby. Rick had a fucking baby.

"Oh my goodness," Negan exclaimed, shoving Lucille into Carl's hands. "Look at you!"

She had dirty blonde hair, blue-green eyes, and the face of an angel. Negan wasted no time in lifting her up from her crib and cradling her in his arms. While Carl nervously gripped Lucille between his hands, Georgia's feet remained glued by the door. Negan was cooing at the little girl; his delight shone bright in his eyes.

It was the only time Georgia dared to consider what he might have been like before the apocalypse. Had he been married? Had he been a father? Had he been a good father?

Georgia shook her head. That was going too far.

"Negan, I'm going for a walk."

"Don't get yourself fucking killed."

"Don't fucking do anything to the baby."

She felt his eyes on her as she walked away. She didn't look back, not until she was out of the house, at which time, she released a long sigh. Balls.

When had she become so sentimental – about Negan? Since he had driven her out to fight an entire herd of Roamers on her own, and then driven her back? Since he'd saved her from getting raped? Since he'd asked her to shave his beard? Since he'd asked Dwight to look for a camera just so he could take a goddamn Polaroid of her?

None of it was right. None of the things she felt for Negan could ever be right. He was a cold-blooded killer who had named his barbwire-wrapped bat after his dead wife. He smashed people's brains in, only occasionally for fun. He took people who broke his rules and ironed their faces off in front of a crowd.

How could she have even begun to start feeling for him? Was it because he had taken her in? He'd only done that because he needed to run Sanctuary; he needed people in order to do that. Was it because he didn't slap her every time she refused to kneel when everyone else did? It turned him on. Everything she did could turn him on, and he liked being turned on. He didn't keep her around for anything else; she was just another one of his lackeys, and if she had any less dignity, she'd be just another one of his whores.

So why was she so fucking hung up on him?

She had been walking for a while; she only realized it when the ache in her feet had come close to unbearable. The road had just gone on and on, and she didn't find any reason to stop. It was easy to get lost in the sights and smells of the suburban territory. The grass, the trees, and the paint of the houses were untouched by the stench of Roamer.

For a moment, Georgia could picture herself living here: safe and sound, only relying on Rick the Prick to scavenge food and supplies, and never having to use a gun. It would be different… and incontrovertibly wrong. Staying in Alexandria meant going soft. That couldn't happen. She had come too far.

Georgia was sure that she'd gone around the whole of Alexandria before finally coming to a stop at the front gate. And as if on cue, Derek, from Sanctuary, opened the gate to reveal a white van. It wasn't one of theirs.

A man stepped out from the passenger side. Curly hair, baby blue eyes, confident demeanor – Negan had given an apt enough description for Georgia to know that this was Rick Grimes, more popularly known as Rick the Prick. A smile crept up her features, despite herself.

"Where is he?" he demanded.

"Negan?" said Derek. "He's in your house, asshole, waiting for you."

Georgia didn't miss the way his breathing picked up a little at the mention of Negan being at his house. He was probably worried for his baby. He looked like he was about to head over there too, strides long and purposeful, when Paxton stopped him.

"Hey now," he said. "Just like that? We've been waiting for a while, man, just to see what you'd bring us. Why don't we have a look first?"

He and the rest of the troops from Sanctuary proceeded to unload the van. Another unfamiliar, the one who had pulled in with Rick, watched as they placed the boxes right by his feet. Georgia walked over to the wall and leaned against it.

"Planning on giving us a hand, G?" Leslie asked, throwing Georgia that annoying scowl.

Georgia shrugged and crossed her arms. "There aren't many boxes. You'll do fine."

And she was right. Without her help, they finished unloading in less than two minutes. Paxton wasted no time in opening one of the boxes and pulling out a gun. The rest followed suit. Georgia watched on with interest and noticed that none of the guns were actually loaded. The boxes didn't carry any ammo, either.

"The hell's this?" said Leslie, finding a piece of paper in one of the boxes. "'Congrats for winning but you still lose'?"

Derek snatched the message from her hands, read it himself, and then shoved it in front of Rick's friend's face. "Did you leave us a little love note?"

"No, I just… I mean, we wouldn't obviously—"

"Did you say it's obvious?"

By that time, Derek had walked the man to the side of the van, so Georgia couldn't see what was happening. But from the abrupt clang and the grunt of pain, and Rick's indignant demeanor, Georgia could guess that things were going downhill pretty quickly. She pushed off the wall and made towards Derek.

"We didn't do that."

"It's not about the damn note!"

After issuing a warning to Rick, Diego decided he'd join in on the fun. He had only just arrived at the scene, too, when he abruptly socked Rick's friend in the gut. The man went down and then Diego was kicking him. Leslie kept Rick at bay, pointing a gun at his face. He looked like he was about to cry.

A particularly nasty kick opened a cut above the man's eyebrow. Georgia saw it fit to intervene. She grabbed Leslie's wrist and pushed it down, glaring fiercely, before turning to Diego. "Diego, it was a joke. That's enough."

When he didn't stop, she stepped up so that she was standing above Rick's friend. "Don't be a dick," she snapped, giving Diego a firm shove. "I said that's enough!"

"You think you've got anything on me, Georgia?" Diego got right in her face. At least he had stopped hitting; out of the corner of her eye, she saw Rick help his friend up. "Negan ain't here to save you now. You don't have your bat with you. So what're you gonna do?"

"What do you think Negan's gonna do when he finds out that you beat me up? You remember what happened to Shaw, right? You wanna end up like that too?" His face fell. Georgia sneered. "Because that's what's gonna happen if you don't walk away, but the only difference is that I'm gonna be the one you're staring up at, not Negan. So: Walk. Away."

It wasn't often that she got in fights with her fellow Saviors, but they were crossing the line here. Diego's nostrils flared and for a moment, Georgia thought that she was going to get herself into an actual brawl. But then after a few seconds, he sniffed and pushed past her. Leslie and Derek got their last scoffs in before turning away as well.

Relieved, Georgia turned her attention to Rick. He was currently supporting his friend, barely, and they were both staring at her with wary eyes. She raised an eyebrow. "You need help there?"

"No," Rick grunted. He tried to walk forward but only succeeded in dragging his friend's feet against the gravel.

"Yeah, you do." Ignoring his protests, Georgia bent down and looped the stranger's arm around her shoulders. He was heavier than he looked. "Come on. Where to?"

"My house," said Rick. "Negan…"

"I know, I know."

Together, they set off for the peach California Bungalow.

It was several minutes in when Rick finally opened his mouth. Honestly, Georgia had expected him to go longer, considering how much pride she was sure he had.

"Why are you with the Saviors?" he asked. "With Negan?"

"Is it so hard to believe that I like being with them?"

"You're a good person. You wouldn't be helping me if you weren't. But the Saviors… they aren't good people."

She sighed. "We don't pretend to be good people. We do what we have to do so that we stay alive, so that the people back at home can stay alive. Isn't that what you're doing? You brought those supplies back so that Alexandria can keep going, didn't you?"

"We could make a truce but your people are taking everything—"

"I would have considered making a truce too, you know; then Negan told me about the outpost. The one you destroyed." She heard his breathing stall a bit. "How many people did you kill there, Rick – while they were asleep? Thirty? Forty?"

He growled. "You think we'd count?"

Georgia continued unfazed. "And how many of yours has Negan killed? Not a lot, from what he tells us. It was painful, I understand that. They were family. But what about those people at the outpost? They had family too back at Sanctuary, husbands, wives, sons and daughters… If I had been stationed there, your people would've killed me without batting an eye. Talking to me now, how does that make you feel?"

"Your people would've found us. They would've killed us all—"

"If you hadn't killed them first." She scoffed. "Typical guy logic, I guess. But Rick… Look where you are now."

She would have said more – surprising even herself; she actually had a lot to say on the matter – but then a gunshot rang from down the street. Rick cursed and picked up the pace; Georgia pursed her lips, and however unconsciously, her thoughts strayed to Negan.

Rightly so, as it turned out. When they arrived at Rick's house, a crowd had formed. Some were residents of Alexandria, wide-eyed and quaking with fear; some were Negan's men, and they had their guns pointed at whoever looked hostile. Georgia heard screaming.

There was a pool table in the middle of it all. At the foot of it was a girl lying on the road. The screaming was coming from her.

"NO! IT WAS ME! IT WAS ME—"

Another gunshot. Georgia flinched slightly. The shot had come from Arat, who was leaning over the screaming girl. She had shot the portly woman from Rick's house – Olivia. Before Georgia could protest, Rick had pulled away and was approaching Negan with eyes screaming bloody murder.

"We had an agreement!"

"Rick!" said Negan, grinning, as always, even when his face and shirt were splattered with blood. "Man, your people are making me lose my voice doing all this yelling. You know what? How about a thank you. I mean, I know we started off with me beating the holy shit out of your friends, but I just bent over backwards trying to show you how reasonable I am!"

Rick's friend was starting to weigh heavy on her shoulders. She was just about to set him down when one of Rick's people rushed up to her and happily relieved her of the load. The two of them seemed to know each other.

Sighing, Georgia threw them one last glance before making her way to the front of the crowd. Knowing Negan, he was just about to start explaining what had happened.

Rick had looked so betrayed when she walked past him and trailed after the Saviors. Georgia couldn't fathom why. She hadn't given him any hints about joining his cause, about leaving Negan. Maybe it was because everything she had told him was the truth; he knew it.

Negan had had a trying day. As soon as they were within Sanctuary's walls, he was ordering men about, not giving their new stolen addition a good time, either. But she was surprised when he suddenly grabbed her arm and pushed her up against the side of one of their trucks, none too gently.

His breathing was heavy, eyes harsh as he got right up to her face. "What the fuck was that I saw back there, doll?"

"I don't know what—"

"DON'T FUCKING PLAY DUMB WITH ME!" He slammed Lucille hard against the side of the truck, just beside her head. The metal dented. It was the first time since she'd joined the Saviors that she actually thought he was going to hurt her. "You were with Rick the Prick. You were helping him with his friend, weren't you? You totally were. I saw you, doll."

"Diego beat him up for nothing. I didn't see any harm in helping him walk."

"Didn't see any harm—" His face contorted in fury, one such that had never been directed at her before. "You are one of my men. We don't fucking help Rick's friends. We don't fucking help anyone except our own. You got it?"

"I got it, Negan. I'm sorry." She really was.

Slowly, like water draining going down the drain, the anger left his face, replaced by a deep thoughtful look. Georgia knew that it was still something to be afraid of. When Negan was thinking, he was usually thinking about a brand new form of punishment.

"You are so lucky that I like you, doll," he murmured quietly, as if they were sharing a secret. A dangerous gleam bled into his eyes. "Who are you?"

She swallowed past the lump in her throat. She had heard him ask that same question to several other Saviors. She knew what it meant, but he had never asked it of her before, so she'd just assumed—

Suddenly Lucille's barbs were biting into the skin on her neck. Negan pushed her chin up, forcing her to meet his fiery gaze. "Who. Are. You."

"I'm Negan," she said, without hesitation this time around.

Georgia could no longer question it, and she couldn't keep fighting it either. For better or for worse, she was his. And he knew it. She saw it in his eyes as the corner of his lip twitched, as he turned from her and walked away.

Oh dear, things are getting angsty. HAHAHAHA

Do y'all have any suggestions on what the next oneshot could be about? I'm sort of running out of ideas, and I'm planning on having one or two more chapters up before the awaited "Negan-and-Georgia-finally-screw-each-other's-brains-out" chapter. (Trust me, I am planning that very carefully, so y'all have that to look forward to. Little pervs.)

Please don't hesitate to write down your suggestions in the comments below! They shall be greatly appreciated. :)