Thanks to the awesome Catherine Morgenstern for all her help and enthusiasm and lending her time to beta my writing. I couldn't do this without you, dear, thanks.

The days following the raid turned out to be incredibly boring. Catherine spent her time learning the layout of the Sanctuary and getting to know some of her fellow inhabitants. Everyone was still suspicious of her and no one was really friendly, but they did speak to her, albeit in stilted sentences. Catherine had the feeling her presence unsettled them, maybe because they sensed Negan still didn't completely trust her.

Simon had taken to watching her from a distance; they still hung out, eating and checking the perimeter fence and such, but he'd backed off a little, giving her space to find her place amongst them. She wondered if he knew that she would never find that place. The Sanctuary impressed her and to a certain extent she admired Negan for what he'd done and his ability to keep so many people safe. But she couldn't stay there. The rules and people chafed on her nerves. Everyday the walls pressed in on her a little bit more and her need to be free increased.

One thing brightened her mood. She now had points to spend. Negan had gifted her with a few extra and she intended to exchange them for privileges at the earliest opportunity. After all, she didn't intend to stay long enough to save them for something frivolous. She was blowing the lot on coffee and anyone who didn't think that was essential clearly didn't have their priorities right.

Catherine slipped on her jacket and left her room. The corridors were empty as she made her way to the room where she could exchange her points. But she learned those who didn't risk their lives raiding were given other jobs. Things like cooking, laundry, growing food. They didn't earn as many points for these jobs, but they still contributed to the running of the Sanctuary and thus were able to earn privileges. Most of them would be working now, slaving away at menial work to earn the right to splurge on a candy bar. Catherine pitied them, but understood why they choose to live like that.

She turned a corner and headed down stairs, as she reached the next level she found herself accompanied by another raider, Arat. The stern-faced woman gave her a nod but didn't speak. It made Catherine smirk.

"Hello," Catherine said, deliberately making her voice nauseatingly sweet.

Arat's eyes darted towards her and she scowled. She didn't answer.

"It's a lovely day, isn't it?" Catherine continued.

Arat grunted.

"Glad you agree with me." Catherine put her hands in her pockets. "I'm off to spend my points."

"Already?" Arat asked.

They'd reached the bottom of the stairwell and Catherine turned to her and said, "Sure. We could be dead tomorrow. Why save something that can't be used?"

"Huh. Never really thought about it like that before," she muttered, seemingly lost in thought.

Catherine studied her, wondering if she might be used in an escape plan. Even if she could be manipulated into helping her without knowing it. She decided to test the waters by saying, "Negan doesn't want you to think about it."

Arat gave her a fierce look. "Negan fucking saved us. I wouldn't be alive without him. Everything he does is for our benefit." Her lip curled in disgust. "He shouldn't have brought you here." She stomped away, turning back to give Catherine a dirty look as she disappeared around a corner.

The loyalty of Negan's people were going to be her biggest obstacle when it came to escaping. She was starting to doubt they could be used at all. Perhaps it was because they knew the consequences of crossing their leader. They'd seen the punishment he dealt out. Hell. They had to look at everyday whenever they glanced at Dwight.

Pushing those thoughts aside, Catherine made her way to the storeroom. There were several people milling about, checking the stock and stacking the produce on shelves that ringed the room. She ignored all this and fixed her gaze on a man sitting behind a desk. He was small with wire-rimmed glasses perched on the end of his nose and he had a prissy look about him that Catherine immediately disliked.

He looked up at her the moment she started to walk towards him.

"I want to exchange my points for coffee," Catherine said the moment she stopped in front of his desk.

The man's lips firmed into a thin line at her brisk tone. "We don't have any available at this moment in time."

Catherine cocked an eyebrow and made a point of looking at the jars she could see stacked on a shelf at the back of the room. "That isn't coffee I can see over there then?"

"Those are allocated to Negan and his wives," he said with a dismissive sniff.

"All of them?" Catherine asked.

There must have been at least a hundred jars, possibly more, and he expected her to believe they were all for Negan?

The man turned the page of the ledger he was reading. He didn't look up as he said, "Some are for the canteen. If you wish to exchange your points for coffee, you can do so there."

"They only serve it in the morning." Catherine felt her temper rise at his excessively prim tone. "I want to drink it throughout the day."

"Then it appears you are in a quandary."

He still hadn't looked up at her and Catherine had to fist her hands to prevent herself from slamming the ledger over his head. She continued to glare at him as she thought about what else she could spend her points on. Her temper was in tatters, not just from him, but also her inability to leave the Sanctuary and never look back. She felt smothered by its walls, weighed down by its rules, and looked over by its inhabitants.

Before the outbreak, she had soothed her temper by pampering herself. Soaking for hours in a bath surrounded by candles and with soft music playing in the background. It had been so long since she'd indulged herself in such a way, years in fact. She knew the bath was impossible; you needed major points for that, but perhaps a bucket of water and a razor weren't out of the question.

Hairy legs weren't mentioned in any of the books or tv shows she'd watched before the dead decided to come back to life. There was never a moment where the hero ran his hand up the heroine's leg and paused at the feel of fuzziness touching his fingers. Catherine knew first hand that hair grew bloody fast when not kept in check it and if she couldn't have a bath then she would treat herself to smooth skin instead.

Forcing herself to keep her voice polite, Catherine said, "I'd like some razors. Two. Three if you have them."

The man looked up and she swore she saw a glimpse of spite flitter across his features. "Grooming products are expensive. You don't have enough points. Razors in particular are in high demand from both the men and women who live here."

Catherine felt a brittle smile creep onto her face at his words. "Of course."

He once again looked away from her and the dismissive way he did it made her determined to leave with something, whether she wanted that something or not.

"I'll take a cup of sugar and some lemon juice," she snapped.

Her request made him frown and she could tell he was trying to find a way to deny it. But he couldn't because she knew he had both in his stores. The raid had found several boxes of squeezy lemon juice and a pallet full of sugar, Catherine had even helped to cart them into the store room. She saw the moment he knew he'd lost. His face puckered and his hand whipped to the side to snag a pen.

He wrote something down on the rumpled page of the ledger and then thrust it towards her. "Sign beside your name."

Catherine plucked the pen from his fingers and wrote her name in looping script, deliberately making her signature large so it would intrude onto the lower and upper lines, destroying his tidy layout. She slid the book back to him and watched the muscle in his cheek twitch when he saw her exaggerated signature had ruined his neat records.

For a moment she was sure he was going to comment, but in the end he shut the ledger with a sharp snap and pushed away from the desk. "Wait here."

She did as commanded, silently checking her nails as he went to retrieve her items. He came back a minute later, carrying what looked like the smallest paper cup he could find and a bottle of out of date lemon juice. Catherine thanked him sweetly for both before leaving without looking back. There was less than she'd wanted of the sugar, but she was unwilling to argue the point with him. Especially as she knew it was an argument she couldn't win.

Besides, she had some wax to make. By the end of the night she would be hair free if it killed her.

The only place in the sanctuary where Catherine felt any semblance of peace was by the perimeter fence. Anyone else would think she was crazy for choosing to sit by the spiked walkers, but once you tuned out their moaning and chose a position upwind from the smell, it was actually one of the only places where no one would bother you. She'd taken to spending more and more time there, isolating herself from the group. But she couldn't help it, they were so annoying and unwilling to accept her into their ranks. Without their trust, she would never be able to escape.

Catherine sighed and settled her back more firmly against a stack of wooden pallets. The movement caused her leggings to slide along her skin, now hair free and silky, thanks to the wax she'd made. It had taken an insane amount of time, but the results were more than worth it. She hadn't felt human in a long time and it seemed stupid that something so simple could awaken that emotion inside of her.

Sighing, she moved her gaze onto one of the walkers. It was a woman with knotty, brown hair and no skin left on her face or chest. The muscles, bones and tendons were a dull grey which looked brittle in the pale light. She was attached to a stake by rusted chains that rattled every time she moved. And she was moving a lot. Rumpled pieces of skin were laid on the ground surrounding her, stomped into the ground by her endless shuffling.

Catherine wrinkled her nose and turned her face away, seeking the blissful peace of earlier. It didn't work; her contentment was shattered and she knew it wouldn't return. Pushing to her feet, she stood and watched the walker for a few more moments before making her way back towards the Sanctuary. From the corner of her eye, she saw movement and twisted on her heel to see Simon, Arat and Dwight struggling with a large table. When Simon spotted her, he called her over to help.

Curious, Catherine joined them and saw immediately that it wasn't a conventional table after all. "Is that a foosball table?" she asked.

Simon grinned and put his side down. "It sure as shit is, Cat. We're bringin' it out for the tournament."

"What tournament?"

"The one we play every few months. Negan says it stops us gettin' antsy," Simon replied.

"You gonna play with us?" Dwight leered.

Catherine gritted her teeth. Rat-face managed to make every word he said sound like an innuendo and it was quickly wearing on her nerves. "I'm not interested in playing with you. Ever,' she said, looking Dwight in the eye as she spoke.

"Aww. Come on." Simon slung his arm around her shoulder. "You might be on my team."

Catherine began to shake her head.

"There's a prize for winnin'," he coaxed. "And it's one worth fighting over."

"Well, why didn't you say so, Honeybun." Catherine grinned and reached for a corner of the table. "That prize has my name written all over it."

Arat and Dwight both snorted, but Simon matched her smile. "Our name," he corrected.

"There won't be anyone's fucking name on it if we don't get the table inside," Arat muttered.

They each moved to take a corner of the foosball table. Although it was small, it was surprisingly heavy. The paint had chipped off in places and some of the green baseboard was faded, but other than that it looked in pretty good condition. On the count of three they lifted and carried it into a spare room, two doors down from the canteen. After setting it in the middle of the room, both Arat and Dwight left to let Negan know it was in place.

As soon as they were gone, Catherine turned to Simon. "Okay. So what's our strategy?"

Simon looked puzzled at her question. "Huh? Strategy? Our?"

Catherine closed her eyes in annoyance. "How are we going to win?"

"Well you win by shootin' the ball into the other team's goal." He scratched his chest as he answered and she had to resist the urge to grab a hold of his fingers and twist them.

"Herr, lass Hirn vom Himmel regnen." She drew in a calming breath whilst looking skyward. "I know that. I meant that we should...oh forget it! Just stay out of my way, got it?"

"My, oh my. It sounds like my kitty cat has one hell of a competitive streak. You play to win, huh, doll?"

Catherine felt her lips thin at the sound of Negan's voice. He had no clue how seriously she took this kind of thing. "What's the point in playing otherwise?"

"Damn straight! Shit. If you and me get teamed up, they'll be no stopping us." He leant forward and gave her a wink. "Ain't that right, babygirl?"

"I'm teamed with Simon," she replied, failing to keep the smug tone out of her voice.

Negan's eyes narrowed. "That's what you think, is it? Well I hate to burst your fuckin' bubble, sweetheart, but teams are random." He strolled into the room and gave a few experimental spins of the handles. "Unless you'd rather pass up on the opportunity of winning the star prize."

Catherine folded her arms in front of her and cocked her hip. "And what exactly is this star prize that has everyone so excited?"

Negan made his way towards her, stopping when only a few inches separated them. He dipped down until his lips were level with her ear. "Ask and you shall receive."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

A puff of warm air hit the side of her head as he huffed out a laugh. "Whatever the winner asks for, I do everything in my considerable power to see they get what they fuckin' want."

Her heart stuttered at his words. "Anything?"

Negan closed the distance between them even further. "Within reason, babygirl. Within reason." He stepped away and clapped his hands. "What is this? Some kinda fuckin' meetin'? Let's get this show on the road."

With that declaration, Negan walked out of the room and towards the loading area. Catherine trailed behind him, thinking about what she could ask for. Her freedom was out of the question. Although she could ask for the impossible, have it refused and then settle for something she desperately wanted. And what she wanted were her weapons. She paused when they entered the room, watching as Negan made his way through the crowd that had already gathered and up the metal staircase of the landing that would overlook them.

He lifted Lucille and tapped her against the railing, which instantly silenced the room.

"The time has come for us to hold our foosball tournament. Now, I know yours truly won last fuckin' time, but do not let that dissuade you from participating." He grinned infuriatingly as he looked down on the people. "Even though we all know I am hands down the best player here, you should still give it a go. Everyone needs a fuckin' goal in life and if that goal is beating me? Well shit. Who am I to complain."

Catherine rolled her eyes at his arrogance. The man was impossible. She glanced around the room and saw everyone looking up at him with adoring eyes. Not one person gave even a hint of disliking the man.

"Any of you fuckers that wanna play should have Dwight put down your name." Negan dragged the barbed tip of his bat against the yellow handrail in front of him. "Am I speakin' in tongues? Get to it!"

The crowd started to make their way towards a table set against a wall across the room. They formed an orderly queue and by the time Catherine got there, she was last in line. Whilst she waited for her turn, she counted the people in front and began to calculate how many games she would need to win in order to make it to the final. This little tournament was a Saviors only event, so, including herself, there were 32 people, 33 counting Negan. One person would need to stand down in order for the teams to match up. By her math it would be 16 teams. Which meant this shindig must be structured like a regular soccer tournament, meaning they'd be starting out with the Round of the Last 16 and go to quarterfinals and semifinals from there, culminating in the finale.

She doubted - considering the number of people - that she would be lucky enough to gain Simon as her partner. She just hoped she wouldn't end up with someone who didn't know their left from their right. And it looked as if there might be a few of them in line ahead of her. It took about five minutes for her to reach a smirking Dwight.

"Name," he said.

"Are you fucking kidding me?" Catherine replied. When he didn't answer she said, "Cat. Can you spell that by yourself or do you need help?"

Dwight grinned. "I think I got it, darlin'." He started to write on the small slip of paper in front of him. "B...i….t...c...h, right?"

Catherine gave him a smile that could have cut glass. "Well, aren't you clever?"

"I like to think so," he said, folding the paper and placing it with the others in a box. He then walked away, presumably taking it to Negan.

She watched as he climbed the stairs, his dirty blond hair easy to spot in the gloom. When he reached Negan, he passed him the box and then leant forward to murmur something in his ear.

"You ever play foosball before, Cat?" Simon said from behind her.

"Shit!" Catherine spun around. "Don't sneak up on me like that!" She gave him a light punch on the arm. "And to answer your question; yes. I have."

"You any good?"

Catherine shook her head in mock disappointment. "You expect me to answer that when there's a chance we're about to become enemies?"

"Enemies? Shit, Cat. It's just a game," Simon muttered.

"Pffft. That sounds like something a loser would say." She smiled sweetly as she said it, but he just huffed and looked up at Negan as he started to rattle the box.

"It seems that we have one too many people." He gave a wolfish smile and tapped the corner of the box onto the handrail. "Someone needs to take one for the team and step the fuck back. Do we have a volunteer?"

Nobody stepped forward. After a few moments, Catherine began to see people giving her pointed looks. She crossed her arms and met each set of eyes with a glare. It was Arat who finally spoke. But not to offer herself as the sacrifice.

"The new girl shouldn't play." There were murmurs of agreement. "She's only just arrived. Why should she get a chance to win?"

Negan tilted his head to the side and bobbed his head in a way that was clearly fake. "You agree, doll? Should we exclude you from our little game?"

"Actually, I think it's you who should step down," she replied.

"Say what now?" A slow smile began to creep onto his face, but it contained no hint of humour. "I know you did not just say that. Fuck. Those balls of yours are growing again, doll. Careful they don't get too big, I might need to cut those fuckers off."

Catherine heard the threat beneath his words. Everyone did. She waited a moment, allowing the tension to grow, knowing that showing Negan any kind of weakness would be the quickest way to lose any respect she'd gained.

"Oh, come on. How fair is a tournament with you in it?" She looked around at the rest of the Saviors. More than half were avoiding her gaze. "Given a choice between losing to you or winning and having to deal with your bad temper, which do you think people will choose?"

Negan narrowed his eyes and swept his dark stare around the room. What he saw made his lips thin. "I think you might be fuckin' right, doll. Looks like I'll be needin' to have a talk with my people. Yep, indeed and one of us ain't gonna like that conver-fuckin'-sation." His attention switched back to Catherine. "So you think I should step down, huh?"

"Yeah, I do."

He swiped his tongue across his lips in a gesture that warned of how pissed he was but was trying to contain it. He again tapped the edge of the box onto the handrail, this time harder and with no discernible rhythm.

"Very well. Your wish is my fuckin' command. I won't play." The beginnings of a smile touched his lips. "But I will be your referee and a damn fine one I'll make, even if I do say so myself."

Catherine grit her teeth, but was unable to say anything after she'd just managed to prevent him from playing in the first place.

"Now let's get on with pickin' teams, shall we?" He lifted his hand in the air and wiggled his finger in what was supposed to be a dramatic gesture. After several moments he dropped his hand into the box and pulled out a folded piece of paper. Handing the box to Dwight, he carefully unfolded it and called out, "Ted!"

A cheer went up around the room and Negan grinned. "And the fearless Ted will be teamed with…" His hand once more dipped into the box. "Mike the spike! Quite the fucking' team. The rest of you guys should start shittin' your pants."

On and on it went. Negan called names, the crowd cheered and Catherine became more and more irritated. Finally her name was called. The crowd didn't cheer.

"Let's see what poor fool is lumbered with you, doll." He gave her a wink, which she ignored in favour of trying to telepathically make Simon's name jump into his hand.

Negan glanced at the paper he held and smirked. "It's your lucky day, darlin'! I hope you and Dwighty-boy will be very happy together."

Catherine felt her insides drop. She was certain that the sour look covering Dwight's face was mirrored on hers. Next to her, she heard the rattling sound of Simon chuckling, but she refused to look at him. She refused to look at anyone.

After a few more moments Negan had called out all 32 people, he then spent a few minutes organising who would play against who in the first round. Dwight and Catherine were put against Gavin and John. Two idiots that were high fiving each other, already assuming they'd won. Catherine snorted and turned, finding herself face to face with her teammate.

Dwight had a scowl on his face and his arms were crossed like a petulant schoolboy.

Catherine swallowed her anger. "I don't like you and you don't like me. But I want that prize, so I'm willing to put aside my animosity until the tournament is finished. Agreed?"

"Agreed. Just let me do the work and stay outta my way, pretty."

"Please. I'm European. It's in my blood. I could beat you at 'Fußball' in my sleep."

And with that they separated until it was their turn to play. Catherine spent her time studying the other teams. Negan's idea of refereeing seemed to be calling out various points of play and egging each team on. 'Did you fuckin' see that?!' seemed to be his favourite phrase. She spotted only one or two that looked like they really knew what they were doing and might offer an actual challenge; the rest were pathetic. Finally, it was their turn to play and when Negan called out their names, it was with extra enthusiasm.

Catherine scowled and strode towards the table, beating Dwight at the last second.

She found herself catching Gavin's eye, who seemed to think leering at her would put her off. He was wrong.

"And now the game we've all been waitin' for!" Negan called out, standing at the foot of the table with the marble-sized ball in his hand and a coin in the other. "Will the victors be Dwight and Cat or Gavin and John." He dipped down and pivoted on the heel of his boot. "I know who the fuck we're rootin' for," he mock-whispered to the crowd.

Catherine rolled her eyes. He could be such an ass when he wanted to be, which was all the time as far as she was concerned, but instead of listening to his showboating, Catherine reached for the handles and gave an experimental spin. They moved smoothly with only the slightest squeak.

"Ah-ah. You don't get to touch it until I say you do, doll." The words were accompanied with that shit-eating grin that oozed with innuendo. "You have to wait until I toss the fuckin' coin. I'll even let you call it."

He didn't give her time to think as he flipped the dime in the air.

"Heads!" she called out before it could hit his palm.

Negan caught the coin and wandered her way. He leant towards her and swung an arm around her shoulder, encasing her in his scent. He lifted his other hand and slowly unfurled his fingers.

"Heads it is! Fuck. Luck is on your side today, huh?" He slid the arm across her shoulder down until his palm landed on the swell of her hip. "Your choice, doll. Red or blue?"

Catherine didn't even hesitate before saying, "Red."

Before the world went to shit, she'd been a fan of Bayern Munich and their team colours had been red and white. No way was she choosing blue if she had the choice.

"Okay people, take your places." Negan squeezed Catherine's hip before stepping away and allowing them to take their positions.

Dwight rushed to take the end containing their goal and Catherine was more than happy to let him have it. She always preferred playing offence rather than defence anyway. But god help him if he let too many goals into their net, she'd kill him if they lost and her prize was snatched away from her.

Gavin ended up opposite her and for a few moments they stared at each other, neither willing to look away first. Just as she was contemplating jumping across the table and popping his eyes out, Negan whistled and dropped the ball into the centre of the table. The next few minutes were fast and furious, each player moving their hands from one handle to the next with swift, precise moves. Surprisingly, Dwight didn't get in her way, occasionally his shoulder would knock into hers, but other than that he stayed on his side of the table. Unlike the other team who both kept bumping elbows whenever they took a shot, which caused them to lose their grips on the handles. It cost them several goals early in the game, which they were unable to catch up on.

The ten minute time limit on the game sped by. One moment Negan had whistled to start the game and the next he was whistling to end it. Catherine and Dwight had annihilated them. One win down, three to go.

Surprised at the ease of their win, Catherine turned to Dwight and deadpanned, "You're my new favourite person."

He blinked but didn't say anything.

"Well, would you look at that," Negan said. "Our lovebirds are gettin' along! Some fucker go book the chapel and send for that creepy-assed priest Rick the prick has stuffed up his tush. Can I give you away, doll?"

"Sure. The ceremony will be next week." Catherine replied with heavy sarcasm.

He was trying to put her off, but there was no way in hell she would allow him to. And that was exactly what he was trying to do, she could tell by the glint in his eyes as he spoke to her. Simon joined her a few minutes later, a ridiculous grin stretching his face.

"You played well," he said.

She scowled and gave him a dirty look. "Shut up."

Honeybun lifted his hands in a gesture of surrender and shook his head. "Can't a guy congratulate you on your win without getting his ear chewed off?"

Catherine cocked an eyebrow and settled her cool stare on him. "Of course you can, but we both know that's not what you were doing. You came over to tease me about Rat-face."

Simon chuckled and turned to lean against the wall beside her. "Yep. You two played awfully well together."

She felt her lips fold into a thin line. Annoyance fought with honesty and the latter won. "He wasn't completely useless."

"Hurt you to sat that, didn't it?"

"Fuck yeah it did."

A huge grin split his face. "So, you gonna let me be best man?"

Catherine snarled. "No. But I will let you be my bridesmaid. I bet you'd look good in a pretty pink dress."

Simon huffed out a laugh. "Peach is more my colour."

She twisted her head to face him. "Can we talk about important stuff now, like who you think will be the biggest challenge?" She saw his frown and quickly added, " Apart from yourself, of course."

Simon's eyes narrowed as his gaze flittered around the room and sought out the remaining players. "Arat and David. They're both competitive fuckers and aren't above cheatin' if they can get away with it."

"I see. Then let's hope you face them before I have to."

"Gee, thanks."

It was then that Dwight joined them, effectively ending their conversation. "I hope you ain't discussing tactics with the enemy."

Simon scoffed. "Fuck off."

Dwight thumped him on the arm with a little more force than necessary. "Negan's about to announce the next round of matches."

Have I mentioned how much I love you guys? No? Well, I do. You're all spectacular. A huge thank you from Catherine and I to those of you who've left a review and added Respect to your various lists. You rock. :)

Don't forget to leave your thoughts, we get a kick out of reading them!

Herr, lass Hirn vom Himmel regnen = (Dear) Lord, let it rain brains/Please let brains fall from the sky