"Oh...Negan! What an absolute pleasure to have you!" Gregory groveled as Aven observed the ratty little gray-haired man with a dumb look that appeared to be his resting facial expression. "Normally Simon does pick ups but we are always so happy to have you."
"Of course you are, Gregory!" Negan boomed, slapping Gregory on the back so hard he jumped. "Always a fucking pleasure to have me. Let's go inside." Negan draped his heavy arm around Gregory's shoulder, the littler man clearly struggling to stay upright under the weight of Negan leaning into him. The two made their way up to the Hilltop mansion, Aven following behind with the team of armed Saviors. When they got to the door, Negan turned around to face his men, Gregory still under his arm. "Arat, Jared, go to medical. Find Carson."
"Y-you're not going to hurt anyone," asked Gregory timidly. "N-not that I would tell you what to do. I just-"
"Wasn't planning on hurting anyone," Negan interrupted. "Why? Should I?"
"No! No, of course not! I just thought maybe if you need the doctor-"
"Calm down, Gregory." Negan removed his arm from Gregory's shoulder only to slap him too hard on the back again. "You gonna invite us in?"
"Oh, yes, of course," said Gregory shakily before failing to put on an excitedly hospitable demeanor, dawning a toothy, tight-jawed smile that didn't reach his eyes. "Come on in!" Gregory opened the door to the beautiful mansion, which Aven had been examining intently, as the Saviors filed into a large, nicely-furnished living room.
"Is this all original Dutch Colonial?" asked Aven, eying the inside of the building just as intently.
"Um, well, I believe it's been restored quite a bit but yes, original," Gregory answered, giving puzzled glances back and forth between Aven and Negan, waiting for an introduction.
"How far are we from Williamsburg? We're still in Virginia, right?" Gregory nodded even though Aven hadn't looked at him once while speaking.
"Gregory, this here's my new secretary," Negan said, placing his hand on Aven's shoulder. "Aven, Gregory."
"Are...are you interested in architecture?" Gregory asked, trying to make polite conversation.
"History," she answered. "Unimportant." Negan only grinned as he watched Aven marveling at the home, her jaw dropped leaving Gregory to flounder in place, pretending to be occupied by looking somewhere out the window until Negan finally turned his attention back.
"Let's go somewhere more private, Greg," Negan said, heading towards the stairs, Lucille swinging by his side. Gregory nodded too many times in agreement, following close behind. Aven, still staring up at the details of the tall ceiling, trailed behind them, having been told by Negan to stay with him.
"Wow, this is really nice," she breathed. The three of them walked into Gregory's office and Gregory closed the door behind them while Negan sat down with his feet on the desk.
"So Gregory," began Negan, holding Lucille horizontally between his hands. "What do you know about a settlement called Alexandria?" Gregory's eyes grew wide and Aven could see why Negan said she'd get a kick out of him. This man was so transparent and a complete failure when it came to keeping convincingly steady composure.
"I- I, uh, I do believe I might just know who you're talking about," he said like he was afraid of giving the wrong answer and wasn't sure if he'd given the right one. "Yes, in fact, we had some visitors a few days ago. They'd taken Jesus and held him, I guess he took some of their suppies because we were running low, we didn't have enough for the next pickup, you know- Not that I'm blaming you! We did what we needed and-"
"Of course you did! Aven, sit down and get ready to write," Negan ordered. Aven sat in an old armchair and whipped her notebook out of the bag on her shoulder and opened to the first page. "Gregory, the reason I ask about Alexandria...what, the fuckin' Alexandrians, we'll call them? The reason I ask is because the fucking Alexandrians, whom I have never fucking met, mind you, just slaughtered twenty six of my people, most of them in their fucking sleep."
"Oh- oh my goodness, Negan, I had no idea, I assure you-" Gregory's head was shaking rapidly.
"I hope for your fuckin' sake that you're not lying about that," Negan growled with a grin that didn't reach his eyes. "I'm not gonna lie, I can think of a few reasons you in particular might want my people gone." Gregory opened his mouth to deny but Negan held up his gloved hand to stop him. "But I'm gonna give you the benefit of the fucking doubt that you're not as big of an idiot as you fucking seem like sometimes. And you're fucking welcome in god damn advance for that."
"Thank you, Negan!" Gregory groveled. "You know, you are a very gracious man and I for one would like to-" Negan continued speaking as though Gregory hadn't opened his mouth.
"And in return, you're going to sit down and tell us every fucking thing you fucking know about Alexandria. I want a second by god damn second account of what happened when you met these pricks. Who you met, what they said, what they wanted-"
"They wanted to take you and your people down specifically." Gregory blurted out. "They came here asking for my help and I said no, sir. Absolutely not."
"Gregory, ignoring the fucking fact that you waited until just motherfucking now to tell me this," Negan hissed, his deep frown etched through his beard. "Just why the shit would they want to take me down? Who the fuck put that idea in their heads?" Gregory looked back and forth between Negan and Aven, unsure what to say for a moment before immediately launching full-force into a recount of the Alexandrians who had visited him, the two most prominent names being Rick and Maggie.
"Rick," Negan repeated, running the name through his head. "Rick the fucking prick."
"I've never met a Rick who wasn't a prick," Aven muttered.
"How many Ricks have you met?" Negan asked.
"Three."
------------------------------------------------------
After finishing their meeting with Gregory, Negan and Aven led the Saviors back outside where a man with a beard and long, brown hair clad in a leather trench coat and knit cap was hurrying up to them, full of concern.
"I'm guessing that's that Jesus guy?" Aven asked Negan, to which he gave an affirmative grunt, still deep in thought about the Alexandrians.
"Negan, you can't do this," Jesus started without introduction. "We need our doctor."
"That is not my fuckin' problem," Negan began, "and since I'm in such a good fucking mood today I'm going to pretend you didn't just forget who the fuck you're god damn talking to." His wide, toothy smile dawned again but still didn't reach his eyes. Aven couldn't help but smirk at the power Negan exhibited just by flexing his facial muscles certain ways.
"But-"
"Jesus, please. Don't be rude," Gregory snapped at him. Jesus looked back and forth between Gregory and Negan, reluctantly relenting. Just then, Arat and the other Savior returned, each walking on either side of a man with light orange hair and a matching scruffy beard which covered his stony expression.
"Negan..." he began without a second thought, "Is my brother dead?"
"I'm sorry to fuckin' say he is," Negan said unapologetically.
"What happened?" The man was trying not to shake but couldn't contain a mixture of fear and sadness.
"He broke the god damn rules," Negan sighed as though he regretting having to enforce his punishment. Aven knew that was just a subtle part of his performance. The doctor before her looked like a defeated man in that moment, and she couldn't help but feel for him. She watched as the Saviors led him away to a truck, following a few minutes later to get back in a car with Negan.
"So this place doesn't have a doctor now?" she asked with a hint of concern.
"It would appear so," Negan answered, eying her skeptically and hoping she wouldn't try to change his mind.
"Sucks to be them," she shrugged, her near indifference to their plight triggering Negan's grin.
"You know, you were so fuckin' opposed to my wives but you don't seem to have much of a problem with anything else I do," he observed. "Why do I think you just wanted me to your fucking self the whole time?"
"No, the wife thing was genuine disgust," she replied simply, not looking at him. "The power you were exerting over those women was disgusting."
"Disgusting," he repeated mockingly. "I exert power over everyone, not just women. I think you're being a little fuckin' biased."
"Yeah, well, I think I deserve to be a little fuckin' biased," she retorted. "It's a new world but objectification of women carried over and amplified. You've had the fucking pleasure of stepping in on two different guys trying to force themselves on me, and I assure you those weren't isolated incidents." Negan sat looking at her with his head cocked, listening attentively but taken aback by her slight outburst. "And, you know, historically speaking harems and patriarchal polygamy go hand-in-hand with brainwashing and religious oppression, especially in modern America with-"
"Okay, okay, jeez," Negan chuckled, holding up his hand. "I get it, I don't need a fucking history lesson."
"All I'm saying is if you're gonna fuck a bunch of women under the pretense of saving them, you better be fucking your men too."
"That is aboslutely not what you're saying, now you're just being a bitch." Aven only smiled and shrugged in response. The Hilltop gates opened and as the trucks began to pull out, Aven turned in her seat to get one last view of the mansion. "What made you ask about Williamsburg?" Negan asked once they'd pulled out of view and onto a wooded road.
"It would be the same kind of architecture down there, probably from around the same time," Aven answered. "And Historical Williamsburg was a tourist attraction but they had all the Colonial practices and supplies, gardens and apothecaries and stuff, cured meats; they probably could have sustained themselves after everything went to shit...There's so much history out here, so much beautiful architecture, and soon there will be no one left to appreciate it."
"I'm guessing this is the museum nerd in you talking?" Negan asked.
"Yeah, that's her," Aven sighed sadly. Negan glanced at her out of the corner of his eye with a frown as he drove.
"I always hated American history," he said. "We learned the same god damn thing every fucking year in school, same Revolutionary War stories, the Boston fucking Tea Party," Negan complained. "There's enough of that shit, enough record that if society rebuilds itself everyone will remember George Washington and Thomas fucking Jefferson, big fucking deal. It's time to make some new fucking history."
"I don't know, I thought you would have been into, like, tarring and feathering and shit," Aven joked before shivering as a chill ran through her body. "Fuck, I wish I'd brought a jacket. Do you know what month it is? It's getting kind of cold." She reached towards the dashboard and turned the heat on.
"Wednesday, October seventeenth, 2014," Negan answered without hesitation.
"You know the exact day?!"
"Yeah, I keep a calendar. I haven't mentioned that?" he asked, not taking his eyes off the road. Aven only shook her head.
"October seventeenth," she repeated softly. "My birthday is in a few days, the twenty-third." Negan's grin grew wider as he reached across the console to take her hand in his.
"Guess I'll have to think of something real fuckin' special to do," he said.
"You don't have to do anything, I was just thinking outloud-"
"Too late!" he chimed. "Something tells me my girl hasn't had a decent fucking birthday in a while and as your lord and fucking savior, it is my responsibilty to give you that."
"My lord and fucking savior," she repeated with a snort. Her voice was mocking, but even she couldn't hide the feeling of comfort the words instilled. After a few moments of silence, Negan also felt a chill and turned the car heat up slightly higher.
"It is getting cold," he observed. "We'll get you a good jacket when we get back. Might have to break out my fucking scarf and my other glove," he joked, holding up his single gloved hand and wingling his fingers.
"You're such a fucking tool with the one glove," Aven scoffed.
"Blisters, duh," Negan said, pointing at Lucille in the back seat. "This is a fucking utility accessory." Aven shook her head with a small laugh and relented.
"The days are getting shorter," she added. "Less daylight."
"Don't worry, doll," Negan hummed, running his tongue across his teeth and squeezing her hand in his with a mischevious glint in his eye. "I fucking thrive in the dark."