No Sanctuary For Old Men [18+] |Negan| ✔️ Complete

VI • Cigarettes and Beer

Daphne audibly moaned at the first drag of the cigarette, her body singing at finally being gifted with nicotine. She leaned on the metal railing of the walkway, enjoying the cool night air on her hot skin.

"Been a while?" A female voice came from behind her, and Daphne turned to see yet another redhead leaning against the concrete wall.

"Almost a week," the blonde admitted, and took another deep drag. "I'd been hoping to grab some from the last settlement I stopped in, but they'd all given up smoking."

The redhead laughed. "Ah, you must be the new recruit that ruffled Dwight's feathers."

"Dwight?"

"About yay high, blue eyes?" The woman held her hand above her head. "Melted face?"

"Oh, Scarface." Daphne nodded. "He didn't seem excited by me." She was happy with this news, however, that word was getting around about her.

"Something along the lines of 'congenital valley girl'," the woman said with a smile.

"Excuse me for being polite." The blonde pouted, feigning upset. "All I did was introduce myself."

"Dwight is a bit of a buzzkill." The redhead stepped forward, extending her hand. "I'm Paula."

"Daphne," she replied as they shook. "You work with Dwight, then?"

"Unfortunately, yes." Paula nodded. "But I run my own ship. My team is solid."

"Team?"

"I oversee a supply run group," she explained.

"Oh ok, like Simon does?" Daphne asked innocently, realizing that this woman could be a fountain of information.

"I'm not quite as charming as Simon." Paula gave a wry smile and turned, motioning for the recruit to follow. "Come have a drink."

"There's a bar here?" Daphne raised an eyebrow. "Of course there's a bar here." She strode next to the redhead as they chatted, asserting her confidence at being equal.

She learned that Paula, Simon and Dwight were among a group of Lieutenants, the highest rank in Negan's camp. Though Dwight was commonly referred to as the 'right hand man', meaning the others referred to him as 'the favourite'.

They entered the bar, which was handily just down the hall from the infirmary.

"Hey, baby." A rugged-looking man grabbed Paula's waist and pulled her back against him.

"Guys, this is Daphne," the redhead said, swatting the man's hand when it went for her ass.

"I guess you do look like you just walked out of Beverly Hills," a dark haired woman with almond eyes commented, and held out a beer. "I'm Michelle."

Daphne took the beer and immediately sipped it, relishing in the cold carbonated crispness on her tongue.

Paula smirked. "Been awhile for that too?"

"I can't even remember the last time I had a beer," the blonde moaned happily. "Let alone a cold one."

"I'm Donnie," the man trying to grope Paula said petulantly, put out he hadn't been introduced.

"I'm off to bed," an older woman sitting at the table said, standing up. "Talia could probably use a break."

"Why doesn't Primo give her a break?" Michelle teased.

"Because I want to snuggle my damn grandbaby," the woman chuffed. "And Primo could probably use some alone time with his wife."

Donnie smirked. "They're not gonna bang, they're gonna sleep."

"All they have to do is hug and she'll be pregnant again." The woman sounded almost proud.

"Night, Molly," Paula said with a wave.

"That woman does not look old enough to be a grandma," Daphne said, taking the now vacant seat.

"None of us know how old she actually is." Michelle shrugged. "But she's got three grandkids."

"Wow," Daphne said, genuinely flabbergasted. "This place really is a Sanctuary, huh?"

Donnie raised his beer. "Sure is!"