I think I liked you better when you didn't have a knife in your hand, Peaches

Charm Offensive

It took Blake and Mia almost forty-five minutes of aimlessly wandering the winding Sanctuary corridors to finally find him, Negan, holed up in the long meeting room on the first floor.

"Can we come in?" Blake asked, raising an eyebrow, as her eyes met with the sight of him, sat back in his chair at the end of the long table, arms folded grumpily, boots propped up on the desk before him.

Negan's dark eyes lingered on the pair of them for a long moment, stood in the doorway together, Mia settled onto Blake's hip, gnawing on her chubby fist.

He gave a small grunt of approval, causing Blake to almost roll her eyes with annoyance but close the door behind her with a snap anyway.

Mia, who had obviously been initially distracted by the change of surroundings, finally noticed Negan, immediately waving her now- drool covered hand in his direction.

"Hai, Daddy. We fowd you!" she said in a sweet little voice, giving him an untidy wave.

"You did, Beansprout," Negan said with a low murmur, a hint of fondness in his voice. But he kept his eyes firmly fixed on Blake's green ones, as though testing the water, trying to pre-determine what kind of mood she was in.

Blake could tell that he was just coming out of a foul one himself. Fresh dents littered the table beside an abandoned Lucille, a tell-tale sign that Negan had taken his frustration with the situation out on the table, in private, which Blake was obviously grateful for.

Not too long ago, he'd have taken his fury and annoyance down to the dining hall with him and made an example of someone for merely breathing the wrong way. But Negan was different now. And if Blake hadn't helped in that, Mia certainly had.

He was a father now, however he looked at it, and bashing in someone's skull right in front of her...well, even Negan knew how much that could damage a person.

And Blake hoped now that him seeing that this wasn't the future and the life that he wanted for Mia, was a way to win him around when it came to Carl's proposition.

The blonde eyed him, pacing over towards Negan slowly.

"You cooled down yet?" she muttered a little scornfully.

At once he frowned deeply, giving a huff and looking away.

"Maybe..." he growled out, causing Blake to purse her lips.

God, he could be so irritating sometimes.

But she was done with dancing around the problem.

And so, balancing Mia with one hand, with the other, she gave his heavy boots a shove from the table.

Negan wobbled a little in his chair, scowling at her. But Blake didn't care, merely, taking up their place on the table and coming to perch upon the edge of it, right in front of Negan himself, in between his now-splayed legs.

She crossed her own legs neatly, all the while keeping her gaze fixed to his.

Mia at once wriggled in her arms to get to Negan, but Blake held her steady, moving her around to sit on her lap instead.

Negan eyed them both, but kept his frown fixed between his brows all the while.

"So you not gonna talk to us?" asked Blake in a silky voice after a moment, a statement that made Negan shift in his seat a little, lifting his chin to stare at her.

"What do you want me to say, Peaches?" he huffed with a shrug of his angular shoulders beneath his leather jacket.

But the blonde gave a scoff. "Well sorry could be a start."