Jo didn't sleep well that night. The pale, shaggy face haunted her dreams, weaving in and out with its accusatory gray stare. Half-way through the night, Daniel joined in, kicking her and screaming at her while shoving a rather giant snake in her face.

Finally, she gave up on sleep and rolled out of bed, staggering to the window. Judging by the light outside it was somewhat close to midnight. She unlocked her window and stuck her face into the cool, spring air, gulping in several lungful's. The air had never tasted sweeter to her. She hadn't expected to be free. Hadn't necessarily cared in the end, but now, she was glad the world had ended.

She pulled her head back in and closed the window, locking it for good measure. She padded her way downstairs and stopped in the archway of the living room when she saw an enormous figure, illuminated by the moonlight, crammed and jigsawed on her loveseat. Negan had stayed. Her eyes fell on the baseball bat beside the couch. Correction. Negan and Lucille had stayed.

A smile came to her lips. She was glad he stayed. Even though he was a pain in the ass, and slightly obnoxious, Jo was glad she wasn't alone. She had a feeling that Negan shared the same idea, but would never admit it to anyone.

She slipped out of the room and into the guest room, where she snagged the blanket from the bed and dragged it back into the living room. Jo draped it over Negan's hunched body, making sure his feet and arms were covered, before she went to sit at her dining room table.

She lit the candle and watched the shadows dance on the opposite wall. Where would they go? What would they do? Her first instinct was to seek out the company of others, after all weren't there safety in numbers? Then again, she'd also seen the dregs of humanity, so she wondered if that was indeed the best idea after all. She would just have to ask Negan in the morning.

Jo spent the rest of the night running her fingers over the grains in the wood of her table, lost in thought. She jumped when she heard a clatter in her kitchen, sometime early the next morning. Had she fallen asleep?

Rising to her feet, she stretched and popped her neck. She supposed she should see what Negan was up to.

She snorted at the sight of him stirring the eggs with his back to her. Even though she'd only known him for a day, she could just fucking picture the look of concentration on his face. She tried not to smile at the sight of his rumpled hair or his wrinkled slept in shirt.

She cleared her throat and he turned to look at her over his shoulder. Damn, he looked fine with that messy hair and two day beard. She resisted the urge to walk over and smooth her fingers over his face.

He gestured to the frying pan. "Thought I'd make breakfast for you."

"That's kind of you. Thank you," she said, padding her way past him and reaching for a bottle of water on the counter. Her breasts brushed his back and he looked down at her with a glimmer in his eye.

She smiled sweetly at him. "Where'd you get the eggs?"

The smile on her face must have surprised him, for he raised a brow at her. He kept one eye on the eggs and the other on her. "They were in your fridge. Didn't fuckin smell or anything."

She tipped the water in her mouth and nodded, replacing the cap. "Thanks."

He nodded at her as he studied her face. "Yeah."

The bump of her heart increased at his stare making her cheeks flare with heat, so she turned away to grab some paper plates from the cabinet and put them, along with a few plastic forks on the table. Negan sauntered over with the frying pan and spatula and scraped the food on their plates. He ambled back into the galley kitchen and dumped the pan and spatula unceremoniously into the sink.

Jo's elbow rested on the table with her chin perched on her hand as she watched the tall, broad man clutter up her home. His muscles rippled in that tight, white shirt of his as he bent down to grab a water bottle from under the sink.

When he stood up he caught her staring. Instead of glaring at her, a small, sexy smile spread across his face. He knew that she'd been checking him out and now he wanted her to know that he knew. Jo merely smiled back and popped an egg into her mouth, never looking away. He sat across from her and dug in himself.

They ate in relative silence, eyeing each other occasionally, both with growing smiles on their faces. It made eating spam, tolerable. Jo fucking hated spam, but she ate it to be polite. It was a nice gesture. Hell it was a nice fucking gesture of him to stay with her too. And she couldn't even blame him for being apprehensive about her murdering someone. She'd feel the same in his shoes.

Sighing to herself, she realized she needed to apologize. Even if it would ruin the flirty air between the two of them.

She frowned suddenly and put her fork down. "Negan."

He paused with his own fork half way to his mouth, brows raised. "Yes?"

She looked at the table and began to play with the plastic utensil. "I'm sorry about last night. I just…I don't like talking about what happened. I'm not…I don't…I have no excuses for what I did. I have no remorse for what I did. But I had very good reasons for what I did. I don't go killing willy-nilly. The only way I would ever kill you is if I were forced to. I never did intend to kill you the other day. I was just going to kick you in the nuts and run with your stuff."

Negan shoved the eggs in his mouth and chewed slowly, thoughtfully, considering her. "Apology accepted."

"Thank you for not leaving."

He snorted. "Where the fuck else would I go?"

She smiled. "Someone's grumpy this morning."

He tossed his head to the side. "Yeah, well your fucking couch is awful."

"I have a guest room, you know."

"Didn't want to fucking push my luck."

They fell silent again with Jo watching him shovel the rest of the food in his mouth.

"So," he said, ten minutes later, tossing his fork on his empty plate and leaning back in the chair. "Where to?"

She shrugged. "You have any ideas? I was thinking we might need to group up with people, find them, but…then again, that might not be the best of ideas."

"There's safety in numbers," he said, rubbing a hand down his stubbled face. "You just have to find the right kind of fucking people. Too many idiots, you die. Too many pricks, you die."

"So, what kind of people are we looking for then?"

"We'll know 'em when we see 'em."

Jo nodded. "Alright then. Where to start?"

"Got a map?"

She shrugged. "My husband might have one around here somewhere."

Together they pawed through the kitchen junk drawers, until Negan snagged a large and rather crumpled map. He spread it out on the table and they both leaned over it.

"If I was a normal person, I would probably go to one of the military installations—why are you laughing at me?"

Negan's shoulders were shaking as he grinned over at her. "If you were a normal person?"

Jo sniffed and turned back to the map. "There is the base in DC. There is the Marine base in Quantico. Ft. Meade. Andrews Air Force Base. Ft. Detrick."

"Most of those are pretty fucking far, Jo."

"Well, tell me, do you have any better ideas?"

Negan sat down and rubbed a hand over his chin, eyes glued to the map. "We should start out scavenging for supplies. Camping shit. Clothes. What the fuck ever."

She grinned. "We might even find people along the way."