Chapter One

"So tell me Simon, how are our little piggies gettin' along?" Negan sat back in his plastic chair resisting the grimace which wanted to break out across his face. He was a man of power. Forget Kings and goddamn President. He was a real leader. And yet he sat in a fucking plastic chair like a goddam kindergarten kid? On the table that sat between himself and Simon was his prized Lucille; a polished baseball bat with barbed wire tightly wrapped around the top. He and Lucille had come along way together. He watched as Simon smiled smugly, stroking the edges of his moustache. Negan liked the moustache, he had often taunted Simon about how it had made him look like some bad seventies porn star. He had liked the man even more when he had seemed to take the banter and now took pride in the piece of facial hair. Negan himself took pride in grooming his own beard. He had long since given up shaving and liked the edge it gave his features. Salt-and-pepper with a white chin, he liked it.

"Rumour has it they're going to be travelling to the Hilltop soon. I'll stop by to make sure Greggory remembers how much he likes us. But they shouldn't get that far, we can intercept them in the woods and surround them."

"Perfect." Standing up Negan retrieved his hidden source of whiskey, unsophisticatedly taped to a vent. Pouring himself and Simon a glass he raised it in a toast. "To our ever-expanding empire." Before Simon could raise his glass to the toast there was a knock at the door. "What?" Negan shouted impatiently but his anger was cut short as the door opened and one of his men, Dan, pushed in a young woman. Her eyes were wide with fear, her clothes torn and dirty but that was the norm of people now. It was hard to tell the exact colour of her hair beneath its dirt but Negan was sure she was a stunning blonde, with dazzling azure eyes which right now were looking at him fearfully. Negan crossed his right leg over his left as he felt himself stir and once more leant back in his chair, grinning wolfishly at the fresh delivery. "Well what do we have here?" His voice was taunting as the girl's eyes swept around the room taking in her surroundings. Her plaid shirt was torn and the ends were tied together, if she hadn't been wearing a top beneath he was sure she'd be revealing an expanse of delightfully taut midriff. "What's your name, sweetheart?"

"Where am I?" The young woman's voice was surprisingly steady and Negan frowned.

"That ain't how things work around here sweetheart. Now I asked you a question. What's. Your. Name." Negan's fingertips flexed to Lucille and he smiled as he watched the woman's eyes follow his fingertips, she took an involuntary step towards the door but was quickly shoved back closer. "That's enough Dan. You can leave her with us." As the door closed the woman's head swivelled towards it and Negan watched her slender legs tense, only then noticing she wore a pair of shorts and walking boots. "I don't like repeating myself sweetheart and you've already made me do it once."

"Catherine." The woman replied after a heartbeat of silence.

"As in the firework?" Negan scoffed and Catherine's cheeks flamed with colour as she held her head high.

"No. My mother was a historian; she had great admiration for the name." Her eyes flickered nervously between Simon and Negan. Negan studied her intently, taking in the way her fingers flexed and her left foot shifted almost nervously. Damn fools, he thought bitterly. They're getting lazy!

"I'd surrender that knife if I were you. I don't tolerate violence here, not unless its punishment for a crime." Negan held out his hand for the weapon but the woman, Catherine, was not forthcoming in releasing it. "Do not make me repeat myself." Negan took the bat and hammered it upon the already dented metal tabletop. Catherine flinched and quickly reached in to her left boot, seizing the knife. Hesitantly she reached in to her right and relinguished a second. "Anymore?" Negan asked hiding his shock, he'd not expected a second.

"Your guards took all my other weapons." She replied in a sullen tone. Her eyes rested on the barbed-wired baseball bat as she hesitantly reached out her knives.

"This ain't for you sweetheart, trust me." She rolled her eyes and Negan grinned. Frightened she may be but this kitten was not meek. "How old are you, Catherine?" He rolled the name on his tongue, enjoying the sound of it.

"Another one?" Simon grinned lecherously at Negan and raised an eyebrow. "Don't you ever get tired?"

"Not me. Stamina." Negan winked before turning his attention back to Catherine.

"Twenty-seven." She replied and Negan sucked in a mouthful of air. She looked barely old enough to be in college, let along long graduated. Even better, he thought to himself. "Well Catherine why don't you pull yourself up a chair and tell Simon and me here how you came to our little Sanctuary?" Negan poured a third glass of whiskey, holding it out with an inviting smile.