Michonne stood silently among the variety of curious women, some painted, all dressed like their bodies were wares. Some glared at her.

One stepped forward, a leggy, tanned muscular blonde who held out a simple strapless red mini-dress.

"I'm Helen. You wanna put this on?" she said, her cold hazel eyes assessing Michonne's large dark brown ones.

"No." Michonne said simply.

By then she had figured out for herself why she was here and not dead. Why Negan's men tazed her instead of killing her. Why they brought her to Negan unmolested and alive, despite the many men she had killed.

"If you want to survive I'd suggest that you do."

Michonne pursed her lips and allowed her head to drop to the side, and reiterated slower and softer, "I'm not gonna put that on."

Michonne stepped away from the woman and receded a bit from the crowd, sitting in a far corner to think and assess her predicament.

Both Carl and Rick would be out of their minds doing what they could to get her back. Rick, she knew didn't think well when his mind was clouded by fear for his loved ones. He grew paranoid and violent. He or Carl might do something stupid.

She had to figure her own way out of this before it was too late.

In a way, it might be good that they'd snatched her.

She'd be the first to see Negan, to measure the man and seek out any weaknesses. She'd be clearheaded enough to take in what her family needed to know.

And though she experienced fear and pain just like the rest, she was one of the few who could think past it.

The fact that she could tell that these women were not shrinking violets nagged at her. They seemed strong and not so easily assailable. So what kept them here under Negan's whims? What kept them from killing him while he was distracted? ...or from working together to overthrow the place?

She had a feeling that there was more to this Negan than what they had encountered before.

Ten men entered the room, all with heavy automatic weapons leveled at the women.

They parted like the red sea and a solitary man stepped forward, a salesman's grin plastered on his face. He was tall, muscular, and dark. Similar to the governor, he oozed the kind of charisma that made people look to him. Another pretty boy.

...but there was definitely something dangerously different about this man.

He scanned the room looking over the women, before his eyes fell on Michonne, who sat on a bench in the back.

"Well, fuck me sideways, this bitch looks straight out of a blaxploitation revenge flick! That shit is sexier than hell."

He slowly walked over and Michonne noted that the other women all got out of his way.

He stopped just out of the range where it might be possible to ambush him.

"Do you know how much I flogged the bishop to that hot black chick from Live and Let Die? ...Fuck!"

Michonne remained quiet but kept her eyes levelled at him.

"Shiiiit. I almost wish I could have seen you use that sword on my men. I probably would've whipped my dick out and jerked it right then!"

His men predictably smirked at this.

He licked his lips and leaned forward.

"So, you are Ricky's lady, huh?"

He allowed his eyes to slowly track her figure, to take in everything that was observable. Her large unblinking eyes, her lush mouth, her athletic model curves. His eyes followed a bead of sweat on her skin as it rolled into her cleavage.

"Christ, you are delectable. Just looking at you makes me harder than Lucille, but you don't have nothing to worry about. I don't approve of rape."

Michonne saw the women in the room from the corner of her eye shift slightly at that.

Okay, so he's another sociopath who has created his own reality...a more dangerous one because it seems that he's not afraid to be transparent and everyone following him is onboard with it. Fuck. He thinks to wear me down into taking him voluntarily so he can defeat Rick psychologically.

Fetishizing me as a new 'flavor' for his pokemon collection wouldn't do that, even if I were given an actual choice.

And now she knew why these women remained. To ensure the safety of their loved ones.

"I tell ya what. If you stay, become one of my wives, I'll leave your family alone. I'll take damn good care of that body of yours. ...I'll still have to get my payment of course, to feed my people, but you have my word that Rick, Carl, Judith... they'd all be safe. I just love a good strong beautiful woman. Weak-ass bitches do nothing for me in this crazy-ass world. ...You think on that, while I keep your sword mounted on my wall tonight to fuck to, imagining it's you."

He turned his back to her, clearly expecting and hoping Michonne would try him so he could have an excuse to put his hands on her, and walked slowly out of the room. As he got to the door, he called a woman's name.

"Joy."

Joy quickly stepped up behind him, a shapely terra cotta-skinned black woman in a sleeveless t-shirt and boy shorts with a halo of tight ringleted hair. She clenched her jaw as she got close and balled up her fists.

He regarded her some, seemingly pleased at her defiant persona.

"Not even close to the cigar I wanna smoke." he said absently and left, his men following out after them.

That evening, Spencer walked up to Rick's house on shaky legs and knocked.

Rick, got a look at the man's shaken appearance and bloodied face, the lack of Michonne at his side and immediately staggered back from him, the air snatched from his chest.

"Where is she?"

Spencer opened and closed his mouth.

"I'm sorry...I couldn't-"

Rick surged forward and pinned Spencer against the wall.

"Where. Is. She."

"We were ambushed by Negan's men...Michonne killed a lot of them, but they still managed to take her. There were too many of them."

"How are you still alive?" Rick asked, pinning him to the wall even harder.

"He wanted... They told me to tell you."

"Was she...hurt?"

Rick couldn't bring himself to ask that any more clearly, but Spencer got his meaning.

"No, they were all business. They didn't seem to have done her any damage or had any intent to."

Rick released Spencer and paced before letting his fists slam down hard on a counter in fear and frustration. He had stupidly thought she would be safe. That they didn't know, so they couldn't use her against him. He didn't even think about the possibility of spies.

He thought of everything Negan might do to her to hurt him and he fell into his chair.

Carl chose that moment to enter the room. "...Dad?"

The teen looked from Spencer to Rick's face and knew.

"Is she dead?"

"No. Just taken." Rick said as he looked up into the frighteningly calm gaze of his son.

"Then we should go get her back."