Chapter 3

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Two weeks had passed since the incident at Hilltop, and though Negan had asked for Sarah on every outing since, she'd still come no closer to getting what she wanted from him.

"Didn't you just get back?" Gareth asks, leaning against the Sanctuary fence with a rifle hanging off his shoulder.

"Yeah, this morning. But i'm bored." Sarah sharpens her knife, paying him little attention.

"How'd it go out there?"

Sarah shrugs. "We collected what we were owed, and they delivered without fail." She tucks the knife into her belt, taking the gun from her hip and reloading it before putting it back.

"You sound disappointed."

"Do i?" She asks nonchalantly.

"A few of us are getting together to play poker later, you wanna come? We normally play for cigarettes."

"I don't smoke, it's a disgusting habit."

"You could play for something else?" Gareth offers.

"Like what?"

Gareth shrugs. "Well, cigarettes are like the coin of the land these days, wouldn't do you any harm to have some to trade with, people would kill for a smoke. But, you can play with all kinds of stuff. Booze, luxury items, whatever."

"Alright, i'll swing by later."

"You know how to play?"

"Does a bear shit in the woods?" Sarah smiles.

~

They sit around a table in the corner of the main floor, three of the Savior's with cigarettes hanging out the corner of their mouths.

Simon looks down at his hand, sweat collecting at his temples as he waits to see if he's about to lose a bottle of gin. "Come on, let's see what you've got." He says, looking over at Sarah.

Sarah smiles, laying down her cards with a smirk. "Royal flush."

"Shit!" Simon throws his cards down on the table, running a hand through his hair. "How the hell are you so good at poker? You're a fucking kid!"

Sarah's smile falters for a moment, and Simon doesn't fail to notice. She leans back in her chair, forcing a smile. "Well, kid or not, i beat your ass, so cough up."

"I need to get some more shit to gamble.. or lose," John says, getting up from his seat.

As some of the others follow suit, Sarah leans towards Simon. "You got any whiskey? I'll do a straight swap for that bottle of gin," she offers.

Simon raises an eyebrow. "I don't have any myself personally, but i can get you a bottle by tomorrow.. that's if you'll let me have that gin for tonight?"

Sarah holds out her hand. "Deal."

Simon shakes it briefly. "Deal." He nods. "I didn't take you for a whiskey drinker."

"I'm not."

"Ahh." Simon slaps his hand on the table. "It's for Negan."

"Yep."

"You do realise that Negan has an endless supply of whiskey, he can take whatever he wants."

"Yes, i do, but i earnt it, so it should be all the more meaningful. Maybe he'll appreciate the gesture."

"You, are one love sick puppy." Simon chuckles.

"Keep your fucking voice down." Sarah glances around them, most of the Saviors deep in conversation, all except for Dwight, who sits at the table, staring into space with a cigarette clenched between his teeth.

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