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Saints Come Marching In

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You are The Boss. You know your name, and what you look like, hell, you probably spent a couple hours designing yourself every three or so years. You will follow the same general storyline, regardless of your actions, but know that your choices could be the difference between life and death, for both you and The Saints.


 

Your eyes flutter in the sunlight as your hands fly to your face. You groan.

“What fucking time is it?” The people around you stir. You're buck-ass naked on the top of Mount Rushmore. How the hell did you get here? Why the hell are you here? You've had some pretty weird hallucinations and dreams when you were high, especially when you mixed meth with shrooms and ghost peppers, but…

What the actual fuck ?

Space aliens? President of the United States? Working with authorities? Jesus Christ, now you've really done it. Maybe you should hit the church instead of the bong next time you party. Huh. You might actually be getting too old for this shit. Either that, or you partied too fucking hard.

You chuckle to yourself; there's no such thing.

“Boss.” Kinzie growled, lightly slapping your face. You grab her hand as your eyes erupt open and pierce through her own. Oh great, she’s wearing a leather bdsm suit. Lovely. That doesn't make things a little weird.

“The fuck are you wearing?” You demand in both horror and amusement. Kinzie pauses to stare at you, taken back.

“The fuck aren't you wearing?” She blurts. “Look around you!” Kinzie shakes her head, furrowing her brows before whipping out her laptop. You do. And… uh… she isn't the only one dressed like that… but she is one of the few that's still dressed.

“Well fuck.” You state blankly. “That's actually pretty accurate, as that did happen.” Kinzie chided, typing furiously.

“Oh.”

Your voice falters as your face begins to fall. “Did we…?” You start, too dumbfuck to finish. “I'm surprised you don't have more scuff marks.” Kinzie commented, not even glancing at you. You look at your wrists.

“Oh.”

Well shit. Well fuck. You fucked Kinzie. Good job. Very good. You had a bdsm orgy on the top of Mount Rushmore. Congratu-mafuck-ulations. Your stomach begins to turn, making you bolt for the edge and hurl upon Lincoln's forehead. Kinzie snickers at you from afar.

“Fuck you.” You blurt defensively as you return to the stirring gimpies and collapse at Kinzie’s feet. Minutes pass.

“Boss,” She starts cautiously. Immediately you straighten up. Kinzie isn’t the type of person to be cautious around you without reason. She teases you and jokes with you, all in good fun of course, but with the tone of her voice she brings you from hungover idiot to hungover boss, intently listening.

“I… found something…” her voice falls as her eyes widen, staring blankly into her laptop. You stare at her with anticipation. “...And?”

She shakes her head and begins another short burst of typing. Her mouth begins to tremble.

“Kinzie,” You start, lowering your voice. “What’s wrong?”

Kinzie freezes, her eyes slowly turning to you, meeting your gaze. She blinks, looks down, and shows you her laptop screen.

“The Syndicate… they had some prisoners hidden in Death Valley and I never thought anything of it but I took a closer look and…” You stare into the screen at the list of numbers that identify the captives. One of them seems oddly familiar…

“They… look- Johnny’s social security number is in their system, and the date he was entered matches up with the plane crash. I don’t know if he’s still alive, I mean we destroyed them years ago-”

“Gat survived.” You breathe. Kinzie stares at you, unable to determine her own emotions. Your jaw falls as it begins to sink in. He’s alive… a tsunami of emotion hits you.

He’s alive.

“Get Shaundi and Pierce on the phone.” You demand, bolting upright. You can feel your face going red with anger. “Get every-fucking-one you can to get their bitch ass to Nevada. I want a detailed floor plan of whatever fucked up sex dungeon prison he’s being held in, a bottle of vodka, some advil, and a good fucking explanation on why the fuck you didn’t figure this out earlier.” Your breath begins to shake as your pupils dilate. Fuck. Fuck? FUCK.

Kinzie stares at you in terror. She doesn’t argue, doesnt make some snippy comeback like usual, she begins to type furiously on her computer once again, picking up her cell to her ear. It's been so long since your anger was as hot as this, so long since your blood has been this boiled. All you can see is Carlos, Lin and Aisha... people you were too late to save, and the memories of their deaths and corpses. It’s all too much...

Was it too late? No he had to be alive, he had to… You can’t give up, you won’t. You refuse to.  

“Kinzie.” You start, your voice low and filled with fury. She stops to look at you, eyes still wide with fear. “Yeah boss?”

“Find Killbane and Miller, and everyone close to them.” You spit. Normally, you’d be cold on the top of a mountain, naked and in the middle of October, but it doesn’t matter; you can feel yourself emptying, all the barriers you put up for the sake of publicity, falling. You thought you had moved on since Johnny died, but the notion that Loren had kept him alive and tortured him for his own amusement was too much.

There was no fucking way you were going to let this stand, no fucking way that he would get away with this. Loren might be dead, but it didn’t matter, you’d make him fucking pay.

You thought that Johnny may have died painlessly, and with dignity, that his death might have meant something, that with his self-sacrifice he would find peace. Your breath begins to shake.

There was no fucking peace. No fucking dignity. It was Lin, it was her drowning in a river in the trunk of a car. It was Aisha, it was an act out of cruelty and bloodlust. It was Carlos, it was supposed to be a fucking statement, but this time… this time you couldn’t end the suffering. It had been going on for years… and you had no idea.


 

You are the boss, and through the choices you make, The 3rd Street Saints will change, for better, or worse.

Chapter Text

It takes 32 hours to fly out the lieutenants and a bunch of grunts to Nevada. You fly in over the base on heavily militarized assault choppers. Shaundi, Pierce, Oleg, and yourself will be going in, the rest will guard the entrance and provide backup if needed. Kinzie will be your eyes, as she has found intricate building plans of the base and hacked into the security system. It seems like it has still been running since Loren’s death, which is promising.

You glance at Shaundi. She has been staring out the window since you left. You want to say something, but her face is so twisted you’re not sure if it’s the best idea. It’s been so hard on her, but she was going to see Johnny again, so you probably couldn’t make things worse.

“Shaundi.” You start, taking a few steps towards her and resting your hand upon her shoulder. What can you say? What is there to say? She looks to you, her eyes bloodshot as though she’s been crying, but she looks as though she would kill a newborn. In times like these, you had to trust your instincts; there was nothing else you could do.

You meet her gaze. “I’m sorry, I’m not even sure what to say, I just know that this is a lot for you, and while you’re strong enough to handle it on your own, we’re here for you. Pierce is here for you, Kinzie is here for you… I’m here for you.” You reassure her. Shaundi’s face begin to fall as her muscles relax.

“You scare me when you’re empathetic, boss.” She chuckles hollowly. You smirk back and shake your head. “It scares me too.” You joke, smiling again before looking away.

“It’s just below us.” Kinzie announces. You’ve been so preoccupied with Shaundi you didn’t notice how much altitude the choppers have lost in the last of couple minutes. Pierce is waiting for you and Shaundi outside while Oleg is gathering the extra guns.

It’s called death valley for a reason. You’ve only just left the air conditioned helicopter and already you feel as though you’re an overcooked strip of bacon. You nod at Oleg as he returns, and the other two lieutenants join you outside, forming a small crowd as the other Saints follow their lead.

You pick up a crate with probably rocket launchers inside and place it in front of them before climbing atop. They all stare at you eagerly. You meet Shaundi’s gaze, then Pierce’s and then the rest of your lieutenants.

You can’t help but see yourself in that shitty hotel, when you first addressed the Saints as their boss. When Shaundi was younger and crazier, when she was happier. Before she hardened. Before Pierce was taken seriously, back when you still had Carlos, back before Aisha died, back when the Saints were just a tiny gang with a lust for power. We’ve come so far.

Drawing a deep breath, you bring yourself back to the moment, away from the nostalgia. What can you possible say in this moment? What is there to say?

“We all know that Gat was presumed dead 4 years ago. You were there when we avenged him... when we tore the Syndicate to shreds… when dropped a giant fucking sculpture on Phillipe Loren’s fat head. And you were all fucking there when I chose to save Shaundi- and Viola- over vengeance with Killbane.

“So it should come as no fucking surprise to you that we’re here now, that after these past few years, we still stand strong and loyal to each other. Gat was willing to die for us, to die for the Saints, the least we can do is be willing to do the same, to get him out of that fucking hell hole. We mourned his death, and avenged it, but it’s not over.”

You snarl. You can tell your voice is sending shivers down their spines.

“IT’S NOT OVER! You fuck with one of us, you fuck with all of us. If Gat died with dignity like we thought he did, he would be avenged, but he didn’t... so here we are. Now, lets cause some MOTHER. FUCKING. CHAOS.” You bellow into the crowd. Cheering and gunfire answer you as a steady roar of approval fills the air. You hop down from the crate as everyone begins to get into position.

“So much for the element of surprise.” Kinzie articulated, her face deadpan. You smile.

“Since when have we needed that?” You banter, grin beginning to fall as you turn towards the entrance of the underground prison. Whatever positive emotions you had, have left you. It was time for action.

“Viola, keep the rest of our peeps in check if anything goes wrong. Kinzie, we’re heading in. You know what to do.” Your voice is cold, and you turn towards your other lieutenants.

“We’ll be doing a diamond formation, Oleg you’ll be watching our backs and Shaundi and Pierce will be at the sides, I lead. No survivors.” You order, snarling the last bit.

“Okay… so I recommend you take the back entrance then-” Kinzie starts, but you interrupt. “No we’re going through the front door.” You state, daring her to challenge you.

“Perhaps we should listen to Kinzie on this matter.” Oleg suggests, but you raise your hand gesturing for silence. “No, the front. Let's put the RPGs to good use...”

“Wait, what? Shouldn’t we go with the safer option where we don’t, y’know, die?” Pierce exasperates. You roll your eyes, trying not to smile. “Alright, Shaundi, you get the first shot.” “What?” Pierce screeches as Shaundi begins to grin. You can’t help but smirk now as you all pick up an RPG and aim them at the front door. The doors themselves look thick as fuck, but like hell you’re going to let that stop you.

“Get the missiles on the choppers ready!” You bellow into the air. The sound of creaking metal erupts as Kinzie aims them at the doors.

“Thanks Boss,” Shaundi says, looking into your eyes. You know it means a lot to her, and you want to make sure she knows how important she is to the Saints, she seems to not to acknowledge her worth on the team. And with you and Pierce treating her like a child when she tried to avenge Johnny after he died, you can’t help but feel a bit guilty.

She has gotten better. She’s stronger, a better shot, and even started taking krav maga since she got her own show nearly a decade ago. In truth, she could probably kick Pierce’s ass quite easily now. You’ve spent so long wanting to protect her, and doing your best to do so, that you haven’t realized… you don’t need to anymore. You slowly give her a reassuring smile and nod, swallowing hard.

“Whenever you’re ready.”

You should’ve used some ear protection, but then again, you’ve never been good at practicality. Fuck. Your ears are ringing like crazy but that doesn't stop the rest of you from unleashing hell upon the door. Fuck you’re dumb. God-fucking-damnit.

After the flames have calmed down, the four of you burst through the opening. Lights are flickering above you as some static briefly fills your ears.

“Alright. There’s going to be a big hallway when you first get in. You’re going to have to get through customs…” Kinzie explains through your earpieces. The four of you shuffle through, stepping over some very messy corpses. “Normally there’s about 15 guards in customs so that shouldn’t be a problem.” You look around; there are 4 bodies scattered across the floor, so you’ll have to deal with 10 or so guards.

“Thank you Kinzie.” Oleg says into his piece. There a general shuffling sound come from customs as well as some yelling. As you approach the door, you pull out 3 hand grenades and gesture for Shaundi and Pierce to go on either side.

You take a deep breath, shoot the lock, pull the pin of the grenades out, and chuck them inside before quickly closing the door.

“Oleg, now!” You shout, getting out of his way before he bolts to the door and begins to hold it shut. The window crack, no doubt bullet proof, as PFFT erupts through the air. Oleg open the door for you, gesturing you to go in first.

“Why, thank you good sir.” You jest, bringing your rifle closer to your face, ready to fire. Oleg chuckles. Looks like some survived. You send a couple bullets through their heads, painting the wall with their brains and blood even further.

“Kinzie, how deep does this thing go?” Shaundi asks into her piece. “The prison block is on level B23, so you should probably take an elevator; there is one down the main hallway, third turn on your right.” “Noted.” You retort.

After mowing down more security, you all stuff yourselves into a tiny elevator, clearly not meant for 4 people, especially if one of those 4 was Oleg sized.

“Are we gonna talk about the fact that our dicks our touching through our pants or…?” Pierce starts, his speech muffled as he talks into Oleg’s chest. “Do we need do? Do others’ genitals not touch you this often?” Oleg surmised, without missing a beat.

“Bone later, rescue now.” Shaundi scolded, rolling her eyes. You crack a smile. “I think we can take you up on that.” Barely a millisecond passes before you're slapped. You snicker as Shaundi shakes her head. “If anyone should have gotten that slap it should be Pierce, he’s the one getting topped.” You say with a sly smile. Oleg lets out a boisterous laugh while Shaundi smirks.

“Man, fuck you.” Pierce exclaims. The rest of you can’t help but laugh harder. “Oleg’s already doing that!” You manage to get out as the elevator dings.

“Thank fucking god…” Pierce mumbles, pushing himself off of Oleg and flopping like a tuna on the floor. You and Oleg laugh harder, as Shaundi pulls out her guns, still shaking her head and chuckling. You're met with more security, but as you stated earlier, Shaundi’s badassness makes up for your disorganization.

Bullets fly through the air as you launch yourself towards a guy and break his neck before the two of you hit the ground. Shaundi covers you as you pick his body up as a shield and sprint past the other security officers gunning them down one by one. Oleg seems to be following your lead, not even needing Pierce to cover him. Not that Pierce was doing the best job anyway…

But holy fucking shit, you’ve been so busy leading and doing solo shit that you completely forgot how great it is to have someone cover you so effectively as you tank through assholes like no tomorrow. By the time you reach the prison block, you’re grinning from ear to ear.

“I’m picking up signs of life in the cells.” Kinzie announces, breaking the silence. You, Shaundi, and Pierce exchange glances. Oleg was a Saint, no doubt, but he never met Johnny. He empathized with you and the others who knew him, but it wasn’t entirely his fight. Gat was just a guy to him.

Whereas to us, he was family.

Oleg begins to beat the door down. “Kinzie, where’s the control panel for the cells?” You ask. There’s a slight pause. “There will be a spiral staircase to your left when you walk in, go up it and it will be 2 yards to your right.” She answers.

“Thanks.” You retort, turning to Pierce. “You’re opening up the cells with the panel, Shaundi and I are getting Gat. Oleg, you’re keeping watch.” Oleg grunts and delivers a final blow to the door. “Got it.” He states. You and Shaundi bolt down the hallway, stopping at every cell to peer inside as the sound of Pierce huffing fills the air. “Pierce, you need an inhaler or something?” You jokingly demand. He actually whips one out when he reaches the panel and begins to use it after opening the cell doors.

“Fuuock yoou.” He pants. You roll your eyes, smiling and continue on with Shaundi. The two of you begin to sprint, not daring to split up with the cell blocks as you both call out Gat’s name. Suddenly you skid to a stop, noticing something out of the corner of your eye.

Purple. There’s a torn piece of purple cloth stuck in the door frame of one of the cells. Shaundi turns back to you, but you barely notice. Your heart is beating so loud in your ears you can barely hear your own thoughts. He was here. He was here. You burst into the cell.

Gat looks up, grinning at you as he finishes carving something into the wall. “The fuck took you so long?”  He demands. You beam, you’re shaking. You run to him nearly knocking him over with a hug. He smiles awkwardly and tries to reassure you that he’s fine. He’s Johnny fucking Gat, he’s always okay.

But he’s not. He’s on the floor, unconscious. Your imagination has gotten the better of you. He’s nothing but skin and bone now. Your heart nearly stops as you fall to your hands and knees, desperately looking for a pulse. You want to cry out, you want to scream for Shaundi, but no words leave your mouth. You’re shaking, you’re gasping for breath. No.

No.

It all stops. You can’t hold yourself up anymore. You can’t keep it together. You pull Johnny onto your lap, your hands practically vibrating.

No.

How long has it been since you entered the cell, seconds, hours, days? You don’t know. You’re back with Johnny, and that’s all that matters, you’re back with Johnny…

There’s a hand on your shoulder, it gently turns your torso toward it. It’s Pierce.

“Boss,” He starts softly, looking into your eyes. You’re shaking, you’re shaking, you’re twitching! You’re going to vomit, no you’re not … wait yes! FUCK.

He pulls you away from Johnny, away from your best fucking friend and you can’t keep it in anymore. You’ve held it in for so long. All you can do is scream. An ear piercing, ground shaking, blood curdling, scream erupts from your lungs and before you know it, Shaundi is at your side.

Pierce tries to shout over you, but you don’t wanna hear it. Shaundi is staring at him, at Johnny in disbelief. Fuck. She can’t see you like this, you’re her support, not the other way around. You’re the boss, you’re the stoic one, the one who’s only negative emotion is rage. You’re not supposed to the one screaming on the floor with tears streaming down your face.

But here you are.

As your voice fails you, you slump into a corner, words still not reaching your brain. Pierce is talking, smiling even. Shaundi’s face lights up as tears roll down her cheeks. Pierce rests his hand upon your shoulder again, saying something to your inactive ears.

You stare at him, vision blurred, still unable to understand but soon enough, you know what he’s mouthing.

He’s alive.

Pierce’s reassuring smile he gives you at the end of each time he repeats this, sends a pulse of electricity through your body.

Slowly, your ears begin to work again, slowly, the world unblurs itself. “Boss.” Pierce says softly, seeing that you’re acknowledging his communication now and have even calmed down a bit. “He’s alive, you’re just shit at taking people’s pulses.” He snorts, his eyes full of pain but even now, he’s laughing at you. And that's okay… You’re going to be okay…

Johnny is alive.

And that's all that matters to you right now. You take a deep breath. He’s alive. You push yourself off the ground to stand. He’s alive. You rest a hand on Shaundi’s shoulder before drifting past her. He’s alive. And finally, you gently pick Gat up and begin to carry him bridal style out the door. He’s alive.

The fear leaves you, the anger leaves you, you walk as though you are an empty shell back out the way you came, nodding at Oleg as you pass him, and gunning down over 20 more security officers on you way out, not even needing to glance, on as to where they are as a single bullet from your pistol ruptures through their skulls. Before you know it, you’re outside.

Kinzie has been screaming into your ear, but you don’t care. Your face is emotionless as  you step into the sight of the other Saints, the medic ones come sprinting towards you with gurneys and equipment. They really shouldn’t be running with scalpels.

You place Gat on a gurney, making sure not to jostle his head, and turn to Pierce who is right behind you.

“How did you know?” You breathe. Pierce shuffles awkwardly. “I was...uh… “ He draws a deep breath. “I was a nurse before… uh… the Saints.” Oleg snorts, but you don’t even acknowledge it, instead you smile, your face feels as though it’s beyond baked with how calm you are.

“Thank you nurse Washington.” You profess with genuine gratitude. Pierce stares at you in disbelief. “But if you or Shaundi tell anyone about what happened in the cell, you’ll be wearing a purple nurse uniform for a month.” You state monotonically as his disbelief turns to horror.

“Boss!” Shaundi blurts, running up to you with two people, both very beaten, dragged behind her. Literally, she was dragging them across the ground. “These assholes were in charge of the place. I found them trying to make a run for it.” You look to her, then to the two.

One is a very fit woman in her 40’s, the other a scrawny man in his late 20’s. You pause, continuing to stare at them before looking back at Johnny, who is being pumped full of fluids.

You have a choice to make. The two will die, but how painfully?

A.)  Painful as fuck, make them pay

B.) Loren was the one pulling the strings, there is no need to go over the top

 

 

Chapter Text

Johnny is now in intensive care in the Stilwater hospital. They should have a unit specifically for him at this point, considering how often he ends up nearly dead and in their care. You tell the nurses there this, but they just stare at you. Right, they know you as the butcher of Stilwater rather than what your publicists make you about to be. Still, Johnny would’ve laughed, or punched you… probably both…

You continue to stare at the portraits on your wall in your office, the one in the hotel underground. You can’t remember the artist’s name, but whoever did them did a very good job. You decide to give them a bit of a thank you by sending some signed merch their way as well as a bit of cash you have on you. Well, you don’t do it, but you send the order to Kinzie.

Leaning back in your chair, you begin to close your eyes. Memories of the two of you together can’t seem to leave your head. All the nights you spent just hitting pedestrians, attacking the Rollerz, getting piss drunk and hitting up strip clubs… all the little things, not the big life changing moments with him, but just being happy… enjoying his company… the thought couldn’t leave your head. That very soon, it would be back to those days.

But it was time to deal with the matter at hand; the assfucks in charge of Gat’s personal prison. You slowly open your eyes, your face falling in an expression on contained fury as you begin to stand.

The two are being held in one of the rooms off one of the side hallways, being guarded like hell. You ordered 4 to be in the room at all times, regardless how how many bathroom breaks needed, and two patrolling the hallways. There are cameras set up inside the room from nearly every angle, and there’s someone always watching the monitor. There was no fucking way they’d escape

“Ay boss, the little one almost shit himself in fear when he heard you’d be dealing with him yourself.” One of the guards says with a smirk. You return the smile. “Good.” You snarl still holding up your grin as you let yourself into the room. The four inside look up at you.

“It’s time,” you start, “I want all of you gone for this. Make sure whoever is on monitor duty is playing this on all the flat screens.” You order coldly, looking each of the Saints in the eyes. “Aight.” One says, the other chime in as they stand and file out of the room. As soon as they’re all gone, you lock the door.

The older woman is still trying to look tough, widening her shoulders as her gaze pierces into you, but the younger one, he’s far more timid. He knows he shouldn’t challenge you. You sigh, shaking your head. It doesn’t matter what they do now, It’s going to end the same damn way.

Your phone vibrates in your pocket, you pull it out to see that one of the grunts has texted you; everyone is watching, and it’s being recorded. Good.

“You actually do some or are you just going to text us to death?” The woman demands, trying to use her anger to hide her fear. The young one looks at her in horror.You catch the woman’s eye as she swallows awkwardly. You slide your phone back in your pocket and full turn your attention to the two, not saying a word. The man can’t even look in the eyes, but the woman looks at you with anger and uncertainty.

“Do you know who I am?” You ask in a hushed voice. The mics in here are high quality, so you can be as dramatic as you like. Neither answer.

“Do you know who I am?” You ask again, this time more loudly and in a far harsher tone.

The man, still not looking into your eyes, opens his mouth. “You’re the leader of The 3rd Street Saints.” He whimpers. You grin, grabbing his chin and forcing him to look you in the eyes.

“Bingo.” You whisper, flashing your teeth in yet another sadistic smirk. You turn your head towards the woman. Her chest is rising and falling at a fanatic rate, she still attempts to assert dominance. How adorable.

“And…” you start, glancing at the two. “My people say your names are Debrah and Liam. Are they right?” Your voice is slow and sickly sweet. “People call me Debbie” The woman blurts. Liam nods anxiously.

“...Do you know what people call me, Debbie?” You ask politely, turning towards Debrah. “T-the butcher of Stilwater…” She gets out. She can’t hide her fear now. You kneel in front of the two.

“Very good Debbie, very good. And do you know who was being held in that cell you were in charge of?” You snarl, still smiling.

“It was Johnny Gat. One of your lieutenants.” Liam answers for her. You snap your fingers and point to Liam.

“Bingo.”  

Any pleasant facial expression has left your face. It takes everything in you from ripping them apart right here and now. Patience. You repeat to yourself. Patience.

You stand. Both are terrified, no doubt, and both dealing with it in their own way. Nearly polar opposites. Part of you wants to come up with a detailed plan to bring out their worst fear and torture them in a specific way catered to them, but that would take far too long to plan, and frankly, you want them gone now.

Looks like you’ll be rely on your instincts and playing it by ear. You suppose there are worse ways, but this will be the most immediately satisfying by far.

You pull a pistol from your holster, it’s the one that you and Gat bought when you first joined the Saints. You haven’t used it in years, partly because you now have access to far better ones, but mostly out of sentimental respect. This seem a fitting place to use it, though.

“You’re going to kill us…” Liam breathed, looking up into your eyes for the first time. “I’m shooting you in the head.” You state, holding back a smile. Liam closes his eyes as Debrah looks away and begins to sob. You lower the gun and fire. Screeches burst though Liam’s mouth as he stares in horror at himself.

“I didn’t say which head, did I?” You avow. “You’re fucking insane!” Debrah screeches, staring in terror.

“And…?” You venture. This time you point your gun towards her breasts. No… you want them to hurt, not die. You kneel at Debrah’s side and shoot, careful not to hit an organs. She screams, but it’s not enough. You pull out a knife and chop her foot off. But it’s not enough, so you cut off the calluses off and feed them to Liam.

But it’s not enough. It will never be enough. It won’t change the last four years, it won’t heal Gat, it won’t bring him out of his fucking coma and it won’t change jack shit.

But you want it. You want them to suffer for everything they did to Gat, you may not have four years to do it, but they will know fucking pain. You’ll make sure of it. Before you know it, you’ve scalped them, chunks of flesh and hair are scattered across the room. You’re setting their eyelashes on fire, electrocuting them by their genitals, branding them with the fleur....

It’s still not enough. You know what you need to do. It’s been there all along. You know it… you know exactly what to do…  

You pick up a baseball bat with nails in it (you had them bring in before you came in) and begin to beat the ferociously. All your anger is out... all your pain, it all come bursting out. Before you know it, you’re on the brink of tears, faced with the reality that is that you almost lost Gat for a second time because of these two.

So that’s when you stop.

You put down the bat, Liam and Debrah think it’s over. They think you’ll end it now. But you don’t. Instead, you close all their wounds, practically bathe them in disinfectant, and burn where you went to town, chopping off limbs. They won’t bleed out, you made sure not to beat their organs too much with the bat, and their other wound aren’t all that serious. You leave with what little food and water they were given.

“No one goes in, no one goes out,” You order. “But I need someone to bring me someone I can kill.”

And sure enough, they do. You bring the hobo in the room, shoot her in front of of Debrah and Liam, and leave the body with them.

The other Saints think that you did that just to scare them, to fuck them up psychologically. And while that is your endgame, it’s not what that specific action was for. The two will either starve and die with what little dignity, honor, or morals they have, or they will realize that the only way for them to survive is to resort to cannibalism.

The results surprise you, Debrah has let herself die of thirst, whereas Liam has begun a diet of hobo blood and raw flesh. It seems that Debrah was more afraid of what would happen before she died, and Liam was more afraid of death itself. After a week, Liam has run out of flesh to eat, and dies soon after of dehydration.

The fact that you broadcasted this to your gang has now made it very clear to them the lengths you will go for them, as well as how cruel you can be. It sheds all the doubt surrounding whether or not you’ve softened over the years. (Spoiler: you haven’t.)

 

Go to A2

Chapter Text

Johnny is now in intensive care in the Stilwater hospital. They should have a unit specifically for him at this point, considering how often he ends up nearly dead and in their care. You tell the nurses there this, but they just stare at you. Right, they know you as the butcher of Stilwater rather than what your publicists make you about to be. Still, Johnny would’ve laughed, or punched you… probably both…

You continue to stare at the portraits on your wall in your office, the one in the hotel underground. You can’t remember the artist’s name, but whoever did them did a very good job. You decide to give them a bit of a thank you by sending some signed merch their way as well as a bit of cash you have on you. Well, you don’t do it, but you send the order to Kinzie.

Leaning back in your chair, you begin to close your eyes. Memories of the two of you together can’t seem to leave your head. All the nights you spent just hitting pedestrians, attacking the Rollerz, getting piss drunk and hitting up strip clubs… all the little things, not the big life changing moments with him, but just being happy… enjoying his company… the thought couldn’t leave your head. That very soon, it would be back to those days.

But it was time to deal with the matter at hand; the assfucks in charge of Gat’s personal prison. You slowly open your eyes, your face falling in an expression of contained fury, as you begin to stand.

The two are being held in one of the rooms off one of the side hallways, being guarded like hell. You ordered 4 to be in the room at all times, regardless how how many bathroom breaks needed, and two patrolling the hallways. There are cameras set up inside the room from nearly every angle, and there’s someone always watching the monitor. There was no fucking way they’d escape

“Ay boss, the little one almost shit himself in fear when he heard you’d be dealing with him yourself.” One of the guards says with a smirk. You return the smile. “Good.” You snarl still holding up your grin as you let yourself into the room. The four inside look up at you.

“It’s time,” you start, “I want all of you gone for this. ” You order coldly, looking each of the Saints in the eyes. “Aight.” One says, the other chime in as they stand and file out of the room. As soon as they’re all gone, you lock the door.

The older woman is still trying to look tough, widening her shoulders as her gaze pierces into you, but the younger one, he’s far more timid. He knows he shouldn’t challenge you. You sigh, shaking your head. It doesn’t matter what they do now, It’s going to end the same damn way.

“You actually do some or are you just going to text us to death?” The woman demands, trying to use the anger to hide her fear. The young one looks at her in horror. You catch the woman’s eye as she swallows awkwardly. You slide your phone back in your pocket and full turn your attention to the two, not saying a word. The man can’t even look you in the eyes, but the woman stares at you with anger and uncertainty.

“Liam and Debrah right?” You start. “My people say that those are your first names.” You look them each in the eye. “Loren is dead, he ordered Johnny’s death-” You pause for a moment. “Well, detainment and torturing.”

Liam looks up at you, meeting your gaze. “You… you’ll let us live…?” He asks, his voice faltering. You burst out laughing. It takes a solid minute to regain control of yourself.

“Oh… No….” You chuckle, wiping a tear from your eye.

“Y’all are gonna fucking die. I’ve just decided not to be a complete dick about it.” You continue with a smirk. Debrah stares at you in disbelief.

“Please… we didn’t-”

“Upbupbup” You interrupt, wagging your finger in her face.

“Don’t make me change my mind, sweet pea. Any last words and or requests?”

Liam meets your gaze. “Yeah…” He starts hollowly. “I got a daughter in Brooklyn. She thinks I’m coming for her holiday ballet recital. Can… can you let her know somehow? Her name is Haruka, Haruka Kioski.” You blink, letting his request sink in.

“I’m not making any promises.” You warn stepping towards him as you bring a pistol to his head. “Is that all?” You ask. He stops shaking, and meet your gaze once again, tears falling down his cheeks as he licks his lips and closes his eyes.

“Yep.”

The sound of your pistol rings in your ears. You swear, you’re going to to get fucking tinnitus at this point. You turn to Debrah and press the gun to her head.

“What about you?” You ask in a monotone voice.

“Go to hell, you fucking fa-”

Bang; the bitch is gone. You sigh. Whoever is on cleanup duty is not going to be all that happy with you. It’s going to take weeks to get that much blood out of the white drapes. Oh well.

You walk out of the room, nod to the guards, and leave the door open. It’s time to get back to work.

 

Go to B2

Chapter Text

“Brute?”

You’re not sure why you had the sudden urge to say that, but no one is within earshot of you, so it’s fine. Maybe it has something to do with the next chapter of your life.

The last couple days have been somewhat interesting, as the general numbers of the Saints have dwindled, but the overall loyalty of the ones still with you is substantial. It more than makes up for the the weak little bitches in couldn’t handle you.

Johnny’s condition is improving, and Shaundi seems somewhat disgusted and pleased with how you handled the captives. Kinzie hasn’t really said anything, but you know she’s freaking out on the inside, and Pierce… he met you on the way out afterwards, stopped you, and gave you this look. Like he understood or something. You’re still not quite sure what it means.  

From what you’ve heard, there’s actually been some new recruits that are practically begging to meet you. You decide to meet with them after talking to Kinzie. You knock twice on her door before bursting into her room. She’s made quite the home for herself in Stilwater. Her loft consists of several giant bookcases with an array of different works, a couple bean bag chairs, a couple tons of what you think is computer.... stuff… and an enormous bed for her to share with her cats, Tinkie and Dumbledore. Not headmaster Dumbledore, but his brother.

According to Kinzie the headmaster was a manipulative dick, undeserving of getting a cat named after him. Frankly, you don’t really see the point of naming her Dumbledore if she has to explain to everyone the Harry Potter discourse. You’ve tried to mention it, but you learned very quickly that there was no middle ground on how much Kinzie despised the popular Harry Potter character.

Tinkie on the other hand, just got her name from Tinkerbell, who Kinzie had a crush on when she was little. You’d say it was a little weird for a girl to have a crush on a cartoon fairy, but frankly, you’ve done, and been attracted to, far stranger things. Besides, it was probably the most G-rated thing Kinzie has ever told you that you can understand.

Tinkie races up to you and meows demandingly, her tail beginning to poof out.

“Wait for an answer before you enter, asshole.” Kinzie grumbles, not looking at you from one of her bean bag chairs. She was in her usual position, sitting with her legs crossed and hunched over on her laptop. You scratch Tinkie behind her ear and begin to grin.

“Aw, come on Kinzie, we’ve seen each other naked, what’s the harm in barging in?” You ask slyly as you plop yourself in one of her cushions, facing her.

“Well do you really want to walk in on me doing someone?” She demanded, rolling her eyes.

“I guess not. I rather not see you making magic with Dumbledore.” You jest, still smirking. Kinzie pauses and looks up from her laptop.

Fuck you.” She snarls coldly. You can’t help but laugh. It soon comes to a halt when it dawns on you that she did. You pause, clear your throat and continue.

“Any updates on Killbane and Miller?” You ask, Kinzie relaxes at the change up subject.

“Yup. Miller is in England, and he’s working for MI6.”

“You’re joking.” You state bluntly. Kinzie meets your gaze.

“Nope. They recruited him right after he left Steelport.” She starts, somewhat annoyed. You know Miller is a touchy subject with her, but that doesn’t mean you’re just going to avoid it altogether.

“Killbane is in Columbia right now, he’s got a family and everything.” She adds, starting to close her laptop and leaning back as she lets out a loud sigh.

“Look, I have no problem fucking with Miller,” She begins. “But don’t go all out on Killbane, at least not on his family, okay?” She swallows hard. What you did with Liam and Debrah must have really hit her hard. Harder than you thought.

“Okay, no family cruelty, got it. Would you like anything else on the menu, madame Kensington?” You gush in a melodramatic french accent. She shakes her head.

“You’re unbelievable.” She states, trying to hold back a smile.

“Oui, oui, madame, ‘tis why I am so…” You pause for dramatic effect.

“...Legendary!” She can’t help but smile now. You return it, but it doesn't take long for your face to fall afterwards.

“You good?” You ask, leaning forward and looking up into her eyes. She blinks, taken back. “Fine.” She states as she opens up her computer again and begins to type. She does so far more slowly than usual. You know she’s lying. She’s not fine at all, but you’re not going to press her about it, at least not right now.

You stand, ready to take your leave. “Send me details on Killbane and Miller.” You add as you turn towards the door.

“That’s all? You could have just called if it was a check in.” Kinzie comments. You turn your head back to her.

“And miss seeing your beautiful face?” Her face goes bright red as she freezes, staring at you. You chuckle.

“Was talking to the cat.” You snicker as Tinkie looks up at you and meows in acknowledgement, rubbing herself against your calves and purring.

“...Right....” She breathes, looking back at her laptop and pretending to type, still flustered. And with that, you walk out the door and laugh to yourself even more. Your phone vibrates. You look to see that Kinzie has sent you a couple files on their current locations and statuses.

You decide to deal with Killbane first. You know it would mean a lot to Kinzie if she was the one who hurt Miller, not to mention it probably wouldn’t be the best idea to start shit with MI6 now.

You nearly walk into a pole on the way into your car as you type out the order. His wife is to painlessly die in front of him, and you want him taken care of somewhat painfully. You’re not particularly specific, as your bloodlust has been satisfied for now. You just want him to be kinda fucked up when he does die.

Kinzie will give you confirmation when he’s dealt with, you don’t trust anyone’s words but her own on matters such as these. The assassins will be paid once Kinzie gives the okay.

Your chauffeur says some words of greeting as you enter the back seat. You parrot back whatever she just said.

“Where to, Boss?” She asks, glancing in the rearview mirror. Whereto indeed. You could go back to Purgatory, or to one of your apartments... or even visit Johnny in the hospital.

Hold up; you decided earlier that you were going to meet with some of the newbies. Pierce said earlier that a couple seem pretty promising. The base it is then.

“Purgatory.” You state, nearly a moment has passed since she asked the question. “You got it.” She revs the engine and begins to drive.

You draw a deep breath as the engine’s purr nearly lulls you to sleep. Your muscles relax and you can’t help but feel a bit at peace. Johnny was okay, he was safe and alive, Killbane will be dead soon, and the Saints are more powerful than ever.

Bright light pierces through your eyelids as your chauffeur opens up the door, taking away what little protection you had from the sun with the tinted windows. You grumble and nearly fall out of the car, blinking in the sunlight.

“Thanks.” You mumble to her as you saunter to the elevator doors and head downstairs. You crack your neck, blinking a couple times. Alright, showtime.

Your posture straightens as the elevator door dings, and you stride down the hallway. People make room, some not even looking you in the eyes, but it doesn’t matter; you don’t even try to meet their own.

Once you’re in the main foyer, you text Pierce to ‘release the newbies’. He sends you a monkey emoji in response. Several minutes pass before a small group of teens in purple, led by Pierce, speed walk towards you. You smile. He looks like a chaperone for a highschool fieldtrip.

“Aaayyy,” He starts in an upbeat tone. “These are the newbies that wanted to meet you.” You raise a brow. “I didn’t realize that we do meet and greets.” You joke in a deadpan voice. The teens faces’ fall, unaware of your sense of humor.

“Well, I did try to get one of Lily’s girls to do the greeting, but they didn’t want the newbies to have too much fun in their first week.” Pierce retorts with a smile. You return it, giving a nod and turning to your baby Saints. There’s four of them, two guys, a chick, and one… person… You’re not quite sure what the fuck they are, and it doesn’t really matter. Pierce thinks that the kiddies are cool, so that’s good with you.

“So…” You begin, cocking your head to the side. The newbies exchange glances. “Who the fuck are you twats?” You demand, crossing your arms and giving them the coldest glare you can muster. They all freeze, eyes widening as a look of terror spreads across their faces.

You wait a moment before you diminish your overly intimidating stance and look to Pierce. “You sure they show promise?” You question, not even looking at the newbies. Pierce clears his throat.

“Weren’t you quiet when you first joined the Saints?” A prepubescent voice asks. Both you and Pierce turn your heads back to see it was the androgynous one who spoke. You blink.

“And you are...?” You step towards the kid, eyes full of curiosity.

They look at you, taken back. Their eyes are pitch black and their skin the color of caramel. The sides of their head was shaved and the hair left on the top was flipped to the side; their haircut looked as though it from the 1920’s and they were obviously latinax. You’re mildly impressed; they actually managed to pull off the retro hairstyle.

“Rocio.” They offer their hand to shake. Instead, you hold their gaze and purposely fistbump it to make them feel awkward. They swallow hard, eyes widening as their jaw loosens a little bit.

Pierce turns the other way. You know he’s trying not to laugh.

“So… Rocio… How well do you know these people?” You ask slyly. Rocio glances at the others. “I know Manjot from my grade 10 homeroom,” They start. “And I’ve never met Heng and Chad before-” You raise your hand, pause, then look to the one white kid.

“Your name... is Chad ?” You ask, biting back a grin. Pierce is starting to lose it behind you, but the teens are more focused on you.

Chad nods viciously. Oh god; he looks like a Chad…

He’s wearing brown loafers with khaki board shorts, and a purple button up shirt. It takes everything in you to not burst out laughing. “So… Chad…. ” You start, trying to twist your grin into a frown. “What do you do for fun?” He stares at you, blinks, and opens his mouth.

“Well, I gol-” Before he can even finish the word, Pierce fucking loses it. He’s laughing so hard you can feel his chest burning from here. Not even ten seconds pass before laughing with him, both struggling to stand.

“Chad... the golfer…” You manage to get out. It’s not even that funny. You’re just so used to white guys who try to join that try to revoke every stereotype they have to them and going out of their way to be ‘brown’ or ‘black’ or some shit. You didn’t know it was possible, but Pierce has managed to laugh even harder at the sound of your words.

“Fuck…” He pants, gasping for breath. You both try to regain control, only to see the newbies covering their faces in amusement, snickering too. You try to stop, to no avail. You put your arm around Chad.

“Welcome to the Saints, dipshit.” You hoot, still grinning. The teens’ laughter dies down as they look to you.

“All of you are cool too,” You say, gesturing to them, arm falling off. “And you’re dismissed. Pierce?” You ask, he takes a deep breath after turning to you.

“Which one is the special one?” You question. Pierce takes another deep breath. “The gay one.” You squint at him in confusion.

“Yes, you’re special Pierce, but which one of these idiots do you recommend?” He can’t help but laugh again. The newbies join in too. You turn back to them. You were just joking about how flamboyant Pierce was. Not a homophobic joke… in the slightest…

You hope those kids don’t mean anything by their laughing... for their sake. Killing highschoolers is not on your bucket list.

“Fuck you, Boss, you know which one I meant.” You blink several times, still puzzled.  “Alright, did anyone shove something up their ass in front of Pierce?” You drone. You meet Rocio’s gaze, they smile at you, and nod. It looks as though they might cry. Jesus Christ, this is why you shouldn’t be nice.

“Pierce?” You callout again.

“You know I’m not good with names!” He blurts, still grinning.

“Point, bitch!” You demand. Pierce rolls his eyes and points to Rocio. The others fall silent. You give Pierce a short nod. “I said the rest of you are dismissed.” Your face falls instantly as you stare coldly into their eyes, pausing to do so individually

The teens’ smiles fade, and they’re back to being nervous trainwrecks. After they disperse, you lead Rocio to your office with Pierce at your side.

You close the door behind them, and gesture for Rocio to sit opposite your desk and Pierce takes his place at the side of it.

Rocio looks up at you, they’re far more afraid now than when they first met you. You lean back in your chair, pull a cigarette from your desk, and begin to smoke. Once your mind has entered business mode, you speak, a couple moments later.

“Pierce, why has Rocio caught your attention?” You ask, not looking at either of them. Pierce straightens up.

“The kid’s got talent. She’s a great shot for how much experience she has, and pretty smart too. She even broke a guy’s collar bone when she was being canonized.” You pause, turning your attention to Rocio and looking them straight in the eyes.

“She?” You inquire. Rocio shuffles uncomfortably, not meeting your gaze. “Yeah… she. ” You blink. “Are we misgendering you…?” You ask slowly. Immediately, she looks up at you, her face brightening.

“No, no… I’m just a lesbian; butch is kinda my thing…” She explains. She must have thought you might be homophobic or something. Ha. Now that would be ironic. You glance at Pierce. “Did he know before he called you gay?” You ask. Pierce’s eyes light up.

“No but, it’s not like I try to hide it…” She stammers. You exchange another look with Pierce. “I’m sure he meant nothing by it… right?” The last word comes out harsher than the rest.

“Not at all.” He affirmed.

“Well,” you start, clapping your hands together. “If Pierce thinks you’ve got that much potential, you’ll be spending a lot more time on missions, rather than just jumping fat cats.” You continue. “Pierce, I want her trained a bit more and to do some of the uglier jobs before we delve too deep.” Pierce smiles.

“You got it, Boss.” He professed. You look to Rocio. She nods and smiles. You turn your attention back to her.

“Try not to be this sweet with everyone, kiddo. Unless that’s how you plan on luring them…” You trail off. In your youth, if you had known how easy it was to trick assholes into a false sense of security, you would have way more pocket cash. But back to the matter at hand.

Rocio smiles again, this time more slyly. “Don’t worry, Boss; I’m not a nice person.” She surmises, her teeth sparkling in the purple light.

 


 

 

“I’ve got an update on Miller.” Kinzie announces, barging into your room. You nearly leap in the air.

“KINZIE.” You bellow, your towel has fallen and several sex workers are passed out in your bed. The few that are awake jump too.

She pauses, taking in the sight longer than she should have. “Jesus christ…” you exasperate. “What?” She demands, completely oblivious to how wrong this was.

“Can you please, for the love of god, get...  the fuCK  OUT?” You shriek. Why is it always Kinzie?  Well, Pierce would just laugh then leave, Shaundi would throw condoms at you and leave, Viola would insult you and leave, and Oleg would have half a mind to high-five you, before he  leaves .  Only Kinzie would react that way, and cause this situation in the first place. Wonderful.

“Well, I thought you’d like to know he’ll be in Detroit this week!” She declares, sassy as hell.  “I’d love to know!” You start, screeching. “Over the  phone.  Or a text!” You shrug dramatically. “Or  maybe  you can  fucking knock  if you want to tell me in person!” The rest of the sex workers have woken up now. Some are trying to shuffle into the ensuite, while others stay to watch the screaming match.

“I thought it was important!”

“You think the fitbit conspiracies are important!”

“You don’t even know what a fitbit is!”

“Yeah, well you’re being a fit-bitch!”

“I don’t even workout!”

“You only barged in because you wanted to see me naked again!”

“And?”

You freeze; it’s dead silent. Kinzie’s eyes bulge. Clearly, she had not meant to say that last part. A crash breaks the silence. The two of you whip your heads to see that all the sexworkers have crawled out of your window and taken the fire escape out. One of them has kicked over your favourite ceramic bowl with a cello and cheese wheel painted on it.

“Awww.... my favourite ceramic bowl with a cello and cheese wheel painted on it…” You say, looking at the pieces on the floor. You turn back to Kinzie. “Look what you did!” You croak, pointing to it. Kinzie rolls her eyes and scoffs. “Rid you of your tacky dollar-store china?”

You clench your fists and your eyes narrow.

“Kinzie…” You start. “Fine, fine. I’ll turn around while you put some clothes on.” That’s not what you meant, but what-fucking-ever. After she turns her head, you begin to shake your own, grimacing as you yank a pair of jean and a purple sweatshirt from your drawers. You nearly fall over while trying to squeeze into your jeans, and you can’t help but feel a bit better after putting on your hoodie; the inside is so soft against your skin.

“K.” You state, Kinzie turns around. “How the hell did you get into my place, anyway?” You ask. You know you locked your door. Kinzie stares at you in disbelief. “I  made  your security system.” She sneers.

You stare at her, taken back. “Fair point…” You finally say, nodding. She stares at you expectantly.

“Are you going to stand there, or do I have to carry you the airport?”

You furrow your brows. “Okay, one; you never said anything about a plane, and second, I thought we established that you weren’t a fit-bitch.” Kinzie scoffs at your response.

“Well do you not want to beat Miller’s tiny ass to a pulp?” You raise a brow.

“I thought you would have waited for my orders.” You claim, causing Kinzie to sigh. 

“Boss, it’s no fucking secret you take everything personally, and you like to deal with it personally. Don’t tell me you don’t want to wring that scrawny neck of his after you spared him, and he returned the favour by keeping Johnny in an underground torture facility.”

She had a point, a very good one. And she sure as hell wasn’t wrong about your style of dealing with shit. You had no personal quarrels with Killbane, so you didn’t have much interest of spending 13 hours in a plane just to pop him yourself. He didn’t threaten any of your lieutenants or friends specifically, apart from Angel. You don’t really care about that though; the little shit suggested you let Shaundi die for his personal vendetta. But Miller…

You showed him mercy, he was just a kid afterall, and posed no threat to any of the Saints. He humiliated Kinzie, but apart from that, he was just an arrogant, scrawny, little, scene teenager. The kid was a brilliant hacker, and even if Loren didn’t tell him, there was no way Miller couldn’t have known.

Because of this, you’re willing to let Kinzie’s assumptions slide.  

“So when does my flight leave?” You ask, after taking it all in. “Half an hour.” She answers, not missing a beat. Your jaw drops. “And you didn’t think to tell me?” You shriek. “I tried calling but  you  didn’t answer, so I left a message.” Kinzie snaps back at you. You press your fingers to your lips.

“Kinzie,” You start, gesturing your hands to her.  “This is not the kind of thing you leave a voice message about.”

“Which is  why  I came here in person!” She exasperates. “Then why didn’t you lead with it?” You demand, to which she shrugs. “It’s Miller!” She says defensively. You groan and rest your forehead in the palm of your hand.

“Just… help me pack…” You mumble, turning around and getting one of your leather backpacks before heading to the ensuite to get your toiletries. “What shirt do you want?” She calls out from your walk in closet.

“One of the cool-purple nonwrinkle ones! Fouth rack on the right!” You bellow. Hopefully, she’ll have the sense to check the tag. Last time she helped you pack for a trip this shortsighted, she packed you a lilac colored suit jacket, when you specifically asked for the lavender one.

“You going in your underwear or should I grab you something to cover your ass?”

“The usual!”

After collecting your toiletries, you return to Kinzie and she carefully places them in your bag as well. Instinctively, you go to your shoe rack and pick out a pair of your favourite Guccis and put them in the bag with your other shit.

“Alright, let's go.” You declare, Kinzie nods and follows you out. You feel your phone vibrate in your pocket. Shaundi has texted you;  Boss, where the fuck are you? We’re scheduled to leave in 20??

You purse your lips in the elevator, not saying a word to Kinzie until the two of you have entered your car. “Who else is going with us to Detroit?” Your voice quiet, but building with anger as you begin to drive. Your chauffeur has left one of your muscle cars for you, leaving a note, along with a parking pass for the airport. It seems that everyone new about this trip but you. Your nostrils begin to flare.

“Shaundi, Pierce… and some newbie. Pierce said you were okay with it.” Must be Rocio. You grunt, your hands flying from the stick to the wheel as you barrel down the highway. 

“Boss?” Your eyes dart to Kinzie, for a moment before going back to the road.

“Run things by me before you decide shit.” You snarl. “Being my friend doesn't mean jack shit when it comes to making Saints related decisions. Got it?” You turn your head towards her, holding her gaze.

“...Got it…” She mumbles. You grimace, rolling your eyes before you turn your attention back to the road. It’s silent after that.

“Text Shaundi that we’re parking.” You order, turning into the parking lot and flying over speed bumps. You could drive safely, and you could try to not damage your car, but considering on how easy and cheap it is to get a muscle car with the same likeness and specs, you decide not to.

You park horizontally, taking up four spaces, and readjust the fleur hood ornament on the car. It’s purple, after all, and  no one  is going to give your car a ticket, let alone tow it. A security officer drives by you with one of those cart things. You whip out your gun and point it at her.

“I need your thingy, get the hell out.” Kinzie raises a brow as the officer stares at you in confusion. “It’s an airport golfcart, Boss.” Kinzie grumbles. “I don’t care what it’s called, get the fuck off it!” You demand, stepping toward the security officer. “Okay, okay!” She whimpers, leaping off of it and watches as you and Kinzie board and begin to drive, very slowly, away.

“I always thought these things were faster…” You mention. Kinzie scoffs. “Maybe that Freckle Bitch’s diet is getting to your ass.” She ventures. You glare at her. “ Excuse  me? I’m a twiggy little bitch, and you know it.” You dictate, Kinzie rolls her eyes, smirking.

By the time you get to your apron, Shaundi has called you 6 times and Pierce has already had three inflight caesars, a glass of champagne, and four tequila shots. At least it’s a private jet so they can't leave without you, but still. It’s not exactly ideal to have Pierce drunk in a confined moving space. There’s not a doubt in your mind that he’ll puke, but the question is whether or not it will be on your freshly cleaned white carpet, or in one of the plane’s lavatories.

Shaundi freezes once you and Kinzie are in sight, crosses her arms as you two become closer, and marches up to when you’re finally within decent range on the loading area.

“Where the fuck were you?” She demands. You shrug, raising your brows. “Kinzie forgot to mention that I have a flight to catch today…” You state, glancing at Kinzie who’s avoiding eye contact. You have decided against mentioning that this was all Kinzie’s idea, you didn’t even give the okay, and that you didn’t know about it until an hour ago. Perhaps if Rocio wasn’t there you’d mention it, but the last thing you want is your authority undermined.

As much as you want the others to know how badly Kinzie fucked you over, you know it’s in your own best interests to keep your mouth shut about it.

“Besides,” you continue. “I wasn’t late; it’s my plane, we leave when I want.” You declare like the full blown asshat you are. Shaundi glares at you, causing you to grimace. You lean into her as Kinzie boards.

“I’m sorry, I was partying last night and hungover as shit. Kinzie only woke me up forty minutes ago.” You explain, whispering. Shaundi exhales, rolling her eyes. She won’t admit it right now; she's far too grumpy, but she understands.

“Well now we got a drunk Pierce because of it.” She complains, you smirk. “How’s the kid handling it?” Shaundi scoffs. “Oh? You mean Pierce’s bullshit or yours?” She sneers.

You snicker. “Both.” Shaundi bites her lip, raising her brows as she pauses to think.

“She’s nervous, but seeing Pierce get shitfaced is helping her get more comfortable.” You nod, taking in the situation. “Well let’s get going, we can talk business on the flight.” “No kidding.” Shaundi agrees. The two of you file up the stairs onto the plane. 

“Aaayyyyy boss!!!” Pierce howls from one of the luxury seats. “Where have you beeeen? Man I miss you!” He screams. Rocio is giggling at him from one of the couches.

“Buckle up, Pierce.” You say with a smile. It seems you would be dealing with happy drunk Pierce.

“Man… I missed you…” He blubbers into his hands. Or… not. You turn to Shaundi. “You let him have this much?” You yell-whisper. “Hey, I’m not his mom.” She states defensively. You grimace, biting your lip.

“Bosssss….” Pierce starts, fumbling with his seatbelt. “You’re so pretty!” Jesus fucking christ. “You’re so pretty, Pierce.” You state monotonically as you walk over to buckle it for him.

Pierce gasps loudly, his hands flying to his face. “Awwwww… Thank you!” He hoots, wiggling to the beat of his words so vigorously he hits his head on the wall of the plane. “Ow…” He whimperes, reaching his hand to where he hit his head. Rocio burst out laughing.

“Hey cap, let’s rock this bitch!” You shout to the cockpit. Kinzie rolls her eyes with a smirk, already perched on one of the recliners.

“You got it, Boss!” The captain retorts, shouting back, Pierce is tapping you wildly, you turn back to him. “We’re on an airplane!” He screeches in delight once he’s captured your attention.

“Yes we are, Pierce.” You affirm. He starts wiggling again...Or is it dancing…?

“Can we pretend that airplanes in the night sky are like shooting stars? I could use a wish right nooowww, wish right nooowww, wish right nahahOW!” He screeches at the top of his lungs. This was going to be a long flight. At least now you know that he was probably trying to dance.

“Can you shut him up?” Kinzie demands, her voice full of rage. You raise a brow, glancing back at Pierce as you plop down besides Kinzie. The jets start and plane begins to head towards the runway. “I think he’s pretty good, actually.” You remark.

“Good? He’s not even singing, he’s just fucking screaming!” Kinzie barks, her nostrils flaring. “You’ve always been jealous of these pipes, Kinz!” Pierce bellows in response. Shaundi grimaces, pulling out some headphones from her purse as Rocio laughs, watching intently.

You shrug. “He’s got a point, Kinz. We all know you can’t sing for shit.” You proclaim. Pierce whoops in the background. “Ha! Boss likes me mo oo oore!” He taunts. Kinzie is about to lose her shit. You might feel bad, that is, if she hadn’t grandly fucked you over and burst into your room without knocking. But she did, so instead you chuckle sadistically and decide to encourage Pierce even more.

“Will you shut up?” Kinzie fumes. “I’m trying to do some fucking work!” The plane has just lifted off the ground.

Pierce shrugs, once… twice… and then begins to shake his shoulders while raising his hands in confusion, smirking. You can’t help but snicker now. Shaundi stares at the three of you in confusion, her headphones on and heavy metal blasting. She gives you a concerning look, as though asking if she even wants to know. You smile and shake your head at her.

She blinks, chuckles to herself, then closes her eyes as she gets back into her music.

“Rocio!” Pierce calls out. She looks at him like a deer in the headlights. “Sing with me!” He demands, his voice cracking. “HELL NO.” Kinzie growls. You gasp, clutching your chest, utterly offended. “Pierce… you’d sing without me?”

“I thought you would sing with us anyways; we always sing together!” He whines. You smile back. Kinzie’s head darts back and forth between you three.

“FUCK NO.” She roars, but the three of you ignore her. Shaundi hasn’t moved, she must be wearing those noise canceling ones she mentioned getting a while back. Good, you only want Kinzie to be pissed. Rocio seems to be enjoying herself, so there was no problem there.

Rocio looks at you, asking for your permission. You give her a small nod, smirking. Rocio smiles back, licking her lips. You whip out your phone.

“Pierce, I got us one right  here… ” You say, opening up your music app, linking your bluetooth to the speakers, and pressing play. The music starts.

“BOSS.” Kinzie screeches. You and Rocio snicker, her face lighting up at the sound of the song. Pierce squeals in delight.

“You know this one?” You ask. It’s pretty old, but catchy as hell. Rocio grins and nods. “Yeah, I have a pretty diverse music taste.” She explains. “Good, same here.” You begin to bob your head to the beat. Rocio grins and follows your lead.

“YEAH!!!” Pierce bellows as the lyrics come up. The three of you exchange eye contact, grinning. Kinzie tries to make a run for the bathroom, only to find that the copilot has the runs.

Fuck. ” She exasperates. It’s too late now.

“There lived a certain man, in Russia long ago-” You and Pierce start.

“He was big and strong, his eyes a flaming glow”  Rocio echoes.

“Most people look at him, with terror and a fear-”

“But to Moscow chicks he was such a lovely dear”

“hE cOULd preach the bIBLE LIke a PREAcher, full of ecstacy and fire!” The three of you sing in unison. Kinzie screeches and bangs on the bathroom door. You’re all beaming. Shaundi has even opened up her eyes to see what kind of torture you had bestowed on Kinzie, going so far as to lift off part of her headphones. After hearing the song and the three of you sing, she snickers, rolls her eyes, and goes back to jamming.

After the song finishes, Kinzie lets out a sigh of a relief, thinking that it’s over. Little does she know that while you were singing, you compiled all of the most obnoxious songs you have into a single  playlist , and are about to blast it on the plane. By the time the copilot exits the restroom, Kinzie has discovered that the door is not remotely soundproof, and even if it was, that it has speakers linked to the bluetooth as well.

There is no escape from your weird music tastes and terrible singing…

Kinzie is stuck listening for the next four hours to your shit-tacular songs. After the first hour, she gives up on trying to escape; she can’t find her headphones. (You totally stole them and hid them somewhere she’d never go; Pierce's hair styling bag.) She lies on the couch as though she’s having an existential crisis. But the real kicker is that the playlist is only an hour and a half long, so she has to listen to it over and over again.

After the first playthrough, you stop singing every song, only doing the ones you really like. After the second, Pierce has passed out. Even you get sick of your own fucking songs, but like hell that’s going to stop you from torturing Kinzie. Instead, you do six shots, Rocio does four and the two of you go back to belting out the songs. You’ve drank so much water for your throat, you spend just as much time singing beside Kinzie as you do in the bathroom.

You and Rocio take another three shots each as Party in the USA comes on. Before you know it, the two of you are dancing on the table, laughing like there’s no tomorrow.

When the plane lands, you and Rocio are completely shitfaced, Kinzie is pissed the fuck off, Pierce is being carried out by the pilot, and Shaundi has taken a nice nap. You stumble onto the tarmac, nearly face planting into the ground as Rocio laughs at you before slipping down the stairs herself.

“Great, now we got two children to take care of.” Shaundi grumbles. You point some finger guns at her. “Fuck yeah! I’m a little kid, bitch!” You bellow. The world spins around you and before you know it, you’re on your hands and knees, laughing uncontrollably. Kinzie struts past you, not even looking at you.

“Oh wuhow… We really pissed her off!” You giggle. Rocio flops down on the asphalt, still laughing. “Hhmm she’s gonna kill me…” She grumbles, shriveling up. “NO!” You scream, placing both your hands on her shoulders. “I shall protect thou from thine evil being of Steel-ith-port-ye!” You exclaim in a thick shakespearean accent. Shaundi stares at you in disbelief as Rocio giggles.

“You said potty…”

“Shaundi look!” You cajole, grabbing Rocio’s face. “I made a friend!” You look up at her, beaming. Shaundi sighs, shaking her head while trying not to laugh. “You hungry Boss? There’s pizza at the hotel…”

Rocio gasps and climbs over you “What kind?” She demands with a crazed look in her eyes. “Everything.” Shaundi retorts, pushing the kid’s face away from her. Rocio topples over, laughing. “Even pineapple, tomato, banana pepper?” She extols. Shaundi raises a brow. “Sure.” She ventures, turning back to you. “Need a hand?”

“Thanks.” You say smiling as she helps you up. Rocio is still freaking out over pizza when you tell her it’s time to go.

“Oi, shitfuck. We gotta go to the hotel to have pizza, move your ass.” You order, Shaundi holding you steady.

“HELL YEAH!” She bellows, scrambling to her feet. The three of you shuffle to one of those golf cart things you commandeered earlier, with the pilot sitting with the kid in the back, still carrying Pierce. For once, you’re not driving. Shaundi parks it right in front of the limo that’s waiting for you, Kinzie has already gone inside and the drive is holding the door open for you.

“Cap, if you’d be so kind as to ride shotgun so I can drunkenly ramble to my gang, that would be lovely.” You slur, looking at your pilot. They give you a salute.

“You got it, Boss.” They say after gently placing Pierce on one of the couch-like seats in the back and helping the three of you into the car.

“Oleg is flying out tomorrow.” Kinzie states once you’re all seated. “Not that you’ll remember that.” She mutters to herself.

“I have the bestest memory!” You hoot defensively. Rocio nods. “Yeah, they even remembered my name!” She exclaims in delight. “Rocio, Rocio, Rocio!” You call out. Rocio giggles. “Boss, Boss, Boss!” She answers, her head falling on your shoulder.

You smile. While you’re not big on physical contact, you’ll allow it, just this once… Before you know it, she starts to drift off. By the time you reach the hotel, you’ve sobered up, just a little bit, and you get the driver and pilot to help you bring both Pierce and Rocio in. You don’t dare ask Kinzie for help, knowing full well how much of a dick you were today.

Shaundi helps you into your room. “Hey… can you make sure that Pierce and Rocio are sleeping on their sides?” You mumble before belly flopping onto your king size bed. “Already did.” She assures you, sighing. “Pierce is just waking up now.” You glance at the clock on your nightstand. It’s 12:04am. Right, time zones… you weren’t in the car for that long…

“Okay.” Your voice muffled by your mattress. “Wanna get room service with me and watch D-list movies?” You ask, rolling over to look at her. She checks her watch. “Sure, Kinzie said Miller will be here for a couple days, so we won’t need to wake up early tomorrow…” Shaundi breathes, kicking off her boots and plopping down beside you.

You fumble through the nightstand drawers, looking for a menu. “Okay… do you want snails, creamy snails, or spicy snails?” You ask after staring at the menu for a moment. Shaundi scoffs. “How about none of the above? What else do they got?” You continue to read the menu. “I dunno, this place is fancy as fuck, I can’t find the normal people food…” You trail off. Shaundi glances over your shoulder.

“Fuck it, okay.” You blurt picking up the phone and leaning back into the pillows besides Shaundi.

“Heyo, I’d like some chicken strips or whatever deep fried chicken shit- not literal shit- you guys have. Also, I want a shit ton of orange juice, none of that concentrated shit, and two grilled cheeses-”  Shaundi nudges you. “Make that three grilled cheeses, and extra cheese-ily gourmet, with all the fancy-ass cheese you guys got here. Speaking of cheese, we’ll take some mozza sticks too.”

There is a pause.

“...This is the front desk…” A voice says.

“Oh… whoops…” Shaundi stares at you as you hang up. “You didn’t dial the kitchen, did you?” She comments. You blink, pursing your lips. “Yeah I did, I just feel the need to repeat my order.” You deny, dialing on the phone keypad.

“Room service, how can I help you?” A voice asks. You recite the order. The voice pauses. “We serve food here…” They taunt. Your nostrils flare. “Hey, can you look at my room number?” You utter, your voice low and cold. “And why should I-” Their voice fails them. They must have actually looked to see who they were talking to.

“Very sorry about the misunderstanding.” The voice falters. “You mentioned chicken strips, orange juice, and mozza sticks…?” You smirk. “And three grilled cheeses.” You state monotonically. “We’ll get right on it.”

“You better.” You growl before hanging up.

Shaundi snickers, her head falling back against the pillows. As you lie down beside her, the two of you share a silent moment. That after everything... after all the shit you two have been through, things were going back to the way they were. It was getting better, the world seemed brighter, but at the same time, things were changing as well.

Somehow you knew, you knew that there was more to this than just Miller and that it was only the beginning. But history wouldn’t repeat itself; Gat wouldn’t die, you refuse to let him. You’ll go to hell and back to get him, then punch him in his stupid, perfect, jaw for being so fucking reckless.

“He really is alive, isn’t he?” Shaundi breathes, finally breaking the silence. You turn your head to her, mere inches away from your noses booping. You study the faint scars on her face, as well as its structure and her worry lines. She’s been through so much…

“Yeah… he’s back…” You whisper, still looking at her. Her gaze meets your own and she turns her head to face you. You swallow hard. Of all the people who could have seen you cry, you’re glad it was Shaundi and Pierce, and even more pleased that Gat was not awake to see you crying over him. The reason you think of this now, is that it’s almost like a telepathic connection going on between you two, or maybe it’s empathetic… and it’s almost as though you can feel each other’s emotions.

Shaundi smiles, licking her lips and slowly blinking. “I still can’t believe it…” She mutters. You can see that she’s on the brink of tears. Hopefully, she doesn't have a breakdown. You aren’t quite sure you could hold one back yourself if that happened, and frankly, you have no desire to bawl your eyes out and blow your nose until it’s raw.

“Me neither.” you breathe back, “But that just means we can sleep easier now; we’ve spent enough tears on the past.” You continue. Shaundi nods, smiling once again. “I still think you’re scary when you’re empathetic…” She jokes, lightening the mood.

You scoff. “I’m scary all the time! I’m the meanest, badassest, most swagalicious being on the whole damn planet.” She chuckles. “Stop trying to sound hip with the ‘swag’ bullshit.” She snickers.

“Why? Did you not see my status about it?” Shaundi rolls her eyes, smiling. “You’re impossible.”

“Anythings possible if you try hard enough…” You chide, throwing her a wink which gets you a pillow to the face.

“Kinky.” You mumble into it. Shaundi snorts as someone knocks on the door. “Room Service!” The person announces. “Just a sec!” Shaundi calls out before lifting the pillow off your face to see you wiggling your eyebrows excessively and making the cringiest creeper face you can muster. Shaundi frowns, and throw the pillow at you with such force you fall off the bed and land on the floor in a heap.

Shaundi opens the door to some waiters, (or whoever delivers the room service at hotels) who prance in and place the platters of food on the sparkling glass table in one of the other rooms of your suite. “Here you are, chicken strips, mozza sticks, freshly squeezed orange juice, and three  grilled cheeses .” He says nasally.

“Thanks. Boss, you wanna tip them?” Shaundi asks. You grumble, pulling yourself from the ground and delve your hand into your bag, pulling out a cigar. The waiter guy has his palm open and waits expectantly for you, but instead you shove the cigar in his mouth and slam the door in his face.

“Classy.” Shaundi comments, raising a brow. “Hey, it was a $50 cigar.” You say defensively, making your way to the food. Shaundi follows you and sits in the chair beside you. You turn on the TV that hangs on the wall opposite you two.

“How does Dawn of the Dragon Slayer sound?” You ask, flipping through netflix. “Awful.” She retorts. You crack a smile, turning to her and meeting her gaze.

“Then it’s perfect for tonight.” You divulge, turning on the fireplace with the touch of the remote. Shaundi rolls her eyes before looking back into your own.

 

Go to A3

Chapter Text

The last couple days have been somewhat interesting, as the majority of the Saints couldn’t care less about how you handled it, the few sadistic fanatics claimed that should have been been more ‘creative’. Things haven’t really changed since you killed the two, execution style.

Johnny’s condition is improving, and Shaundi thinks you should’ve been harder on the captives. Kinzie doesn’t bat an eye at the way you handled things, and Pierce… he met you on the way out afterwards, stopped you, and gave you this look. Like he understood or something. You’re still not quite sure what it means.  

From what you’ve heard, there’s actually been some new recruits that are practically begging to meet you. You decide to meet with them after talking to Kinzie. You knock twice on her door before bursting into her room. She’s made quite the home for herself in Stilwater. Her loft consists of several giant bookcases with an array of different works, a couple bean bag chairs, a few tons of what you think is computer.... stuff… and an enormous bed for her to share with her cats, Tinkie and Dumbledore. Not headmaster Dumbledore, but his brother.

According to Kinzie the headmaster was a manipulative dick, undeserving of getting a cat named after him. Frankly, you don’t really see the point of naming her Dumbledore if she has to explain to everyone the Harry Potter discourse. You’ve tried to mention it, but you learned very quickly that there was no middle ground on how much Kinzie despised the popular Harry Potter character.

Tinkie on the other hand, just got her name from Tinkerbell, who Kinzie had a crush on when she was little. You’d say it was a little weird for a girl to have a crush on a cartoon faerie, but frankly, you’ve done, and been attracted to, far stranger things. Besides, that's probably the most G-rated thing Kinzie has ever told you that you can understand.

Tinkie races up to you and meows demandingly, her tail beginning to poof out.

“Wait for an answer before you enter, asshole.” Kinzie grumbled, not looking at you from one of her bean bag chairs. She was in her usual position, sitting with her legs crossed and hunched over on her laptop. You scratch Tinkie behind her ear and begin to grin.

“Aw, come on Kinzie, we’ve seen each other naked, what the harm in barging in?” You ask slyly as you plop yourself in one of her cushions facing her.

“Well do you really want to walk in on me doing someone?” She demanded, rolling her eyes.

“I guess not. I rather not see you making magic with Dumbledore.” You jest, still smirking. Kinzie pauses and looks up from her laptop.

Fuck you.” She snarls coldly. You can’t help but laugh. It soon comes to a halt when it dawns on you that she did. You pause, clear your throat and continue.

“Any updates on Killbane and Miller?” You ask, Kinzie relaxes at the change of subject.

“Yup. Miller is in England, and he’s working for MI6-”

“You’re joking.” You blurt. Kinzie meets your gaze.

“Nope. They recruited him right after he left Steelport.” She starts, somewhat annoyed. You know Miller is a touchy subject with her, but that doesn’t mean you’re just going to avoid it altogether.

“Killbane is in Columbia right now, he’s got a family and everything.” She adds, starting to close her laptop and leaning back as she exhales loudly.

“You better make Miller fucking pay,” Kinzie starts. “I don’t really give a shit about Killbane, though.” Maybe you should let her deal with him herself.

“Okay, a minced british hacker with a side of celebrity wrestler, got it. Would you like anything else on the menu, madame Kensington?” You gush in a melodramatic french accent. She shakes her head.

“You’re unbelievable.” She states, trying to hold back a smile.

“Oui, oui, madame, ‘tis why I am so…” You pause for dramatic effect.

“...Legendary!” She can’t help but smile now. You return it. She shakes her head and goes back to her computer, beginning to type.

“That all, Boss?” She asks. You stare at her, puzzled. “What do you do so much on the computer?” You inquire, genuinely curious. “Oh… the usual… keep your accounts protected, watch out for potential threats, research people, hack into government facilities on whims and start internal drama…”

“You what?” Kinzie smirks. “I like to hack into their email accounts and send their coworkers passive aggressive messages about… well, anything really. I also just sometimes just delete important messages entirely before they’ve been read. It’s actually pretty fun, especially since I’ve gotten into their security cameras recently…” Your brows furrow as a mixture of confusion and amusement takes hold of you.

“Well… have fun with your government soap operas,” You start before standing, ready to take your leave. “And send me details on Killbane and Miller.” You add as you turn towards the door.

“That’s all? You could have just called if it was just a check in.” Kinzie comments. You turn your head back to her.

“And miss seeing your beautiful face?” Her face goes bright red as she freezes, staring at you. You chuckle.

“Was talking to the cat.” You snicker as Tinkie looks up at you and meows in acknowledgement, rubbing herself against your calves and purring.

“...Right....” She breathes, looking back at her laptop and pretending to type, still flustered. And with that, you walk out the door and laugh to yourself even more. Your phone vibrates. You look to see that Kinzie has sent you a couple of files on their current locations and statuses.

You decide to deal with Killbane first. You know it would mean a lot to Kinzie if she was the one who hurt Miller, not to mention it probably wouldn’t be the best idea to start shit with MI6 now.

You nearly walk into a pole on the way into your car as you type out the order. His wife is to painlessly die in front of him, and you want him taken care of somewhat painfully. You’re not particularly specific, as your bloodlust has been satisfied for now. You just want him to be kinda fucked up when he does die.

Kinzie will give you confirmation when he’s dealt with, you don’t trust anyone’s words but her own on matters such as these. The assassins will be paid once Kinzie gives the okay.

Your chauffeur says some words of greeting as you enter the back seat. You parrot back whatever she just said.

“Where to, Boss?” She asks, glancing in the rearview mirror. Whereto indeed. You could go back to Purgatory, or to one of your apartments, or even visit Johnny in the hospital.

Hold up; you decided earlier that you were going to meet with some of the newbies. Pierce said earlier that a couple seem pretty promising. The base is it is then.

“Purgatory.” You state, nearly a moment has passed since she asked the question. “You got it.” She revs the engine and begins to drive.

You draw a deep breath as the engine’s purr nearly lulls you to sleep. Your muscles relax and you can’t help but feel a bit at peace. Johnny was okay, he was safe and alive, Killbane will be dead soon, and the Saints are more powerful than ever.

Bright light pierces through your eyelids as your chauffeur opens up the door, taking away what little protection you had with the tinted windows. You grumble and nearly fall out of the car, blinking in the sunlight.

“Thanks.” You mumble to her as you saunter to the elevator doors and head downstairs. You crack your neck, blinking a couple times. Alright, showtime.

Your posture straightens as the elevator door dings, and you stride down the hallway. People make room, some not even looking you in the eyes, but it doesn’t matter; you don’t even try to meet their own.

Once you’re in the main foyer, you text Pierce to ‘release the newbies’. He sends you a monkey emoji in response. Several minutes pass before a small group of teens in purple, led by Pierce, speed walk towards you. You smile. He looks like a chaperone for a highschool fieldtrip.

“Aaayyy,” He starts in an upbeat tone. “These are the new ones that wanted to meet you.” You raise a brow. “I didn’t realize that we do meet and greets.” You joke in a deadpan voice. The teens faces’ fall, unaware of your sense of humor.

“Well, I did try to get one of Lily’s girls to do the greeting, but they didn’t want the newbies to have too much fun in their first week.” Pierce retorts with a smile. You return it, giving a nod and turning to your baby Saints. There’s four of them, two guys, a chick, and one… person… You’re not quite sure what the fuck they are, and it doesn’t really matter. Pierce thinks that the kiddies are cool, so that’s good with you.

“So…” You begin, cocking your head to the side. The newbies exchange glances. “Who the fuck are you twats?” You demand, crossing your arms and giving them the coldest glare you can muster. They all freeze, eyes widening as a look of terror spreads across their faces.

You wait a moment before you diminish your overly intimidating stance and look to Pierce. “You sure they show promise?” You question, not even looking at the newbies. Pierce clears his throat.

“Weren’t you quiet when you first joined the Saints?” A prepubescent voice asks. Both you and Pierce turn your heads back to see it was the androgynous one who spoke. You blink.

“And you are...?” You step towards the kid, eyes full of curiosity.

They look at you, taken back. Their eyes are pitch black and their skin the color of caramel. The sides of their head was shaved and the hair left on the top was flipped to the side; their haircut looks as though it was from the 1920’s and they were obviously latinax. You’re mildly impressed; they actually managed to pull off the retro hairstyle.

“Rocio.” They offer their hand to shake. Instead, you hold their gaze and purposely fistbump it to make them feel awkward. They swallow hard, eyes widening as their jaw loosens a little bit.

Pierce turns the other way. You know he’s trying not to laugh.

“So… Rocio… How well do you know these people?” You ask slyly. Rocio glances at the others. “I know Manjot from my grade 10 homeroom,” They start. “And I’ve never met Heng and Chad before-” You raise your hand, pause, then look to the one white kid.

“Your name... is Chad ?” You ask, biting back a grin. Pierce is starting to lose it behind you, but the teens are more focused on you.

Chad nods viciously. Oh god; he looks like a Chad…

He’s wearing brown loafers with khaki board shorts, and a purple button up shirt. It takes everything in you to not burst out laughing. “So… Chad…. ” You start, trying to twist your grin into a frown. “What do you do for fun?” He stares at you, blinks, and opens his mouth.

“Well, I gol-” Before he can even finish the word, Pierce fucking loses it. He’s laughing so hard you can feel his chest burning from here. Not even ten seconds pass before you're laughing with him, both struggling to stand.

“Chad... the golfer…” You manage to get out. It’s not even that funny. You’re just so used to white guys who join that try to revoke every stereotype they have to them and going out of their way to be ‘brown’ or ‘black’ or some shit. You didn’t know it was possible, but Pierce has managed to laugh even harder at the sound of your words.

“Fuck…” He pants, gasping for breath. You both try to regain control, only to see the newbies covering their faces in amusement, snickering too. You try to stop, to no avail. You put your arm around Chad.

“Welcome to the Saints, dipshit.” You hoot, still grinning. The teens’ laughter dies down as they look to you.

“All of you are cool too,” You say, gesturing to them, arm falling off. “And you’re dismissed. Pierce?” You ask, he takes a deep breath after turning to you.

“Which one is the special one?” You question. Pierce takes another deep breath. “The gay one.” You squint at him in confusion.

“Yes, you’re special Pierce, but which one of these idiots do you recommend?” He can’t help but laugh again. The newbies join in too. You turn back to them. You were just joking about how flamboyant Pierce was. Not a homophobic joke… in the slightest…

You hope those kids don’t mean anything by their laughing... for their sake. Killing highschoolers is not on your bucket list.

“Fuck you, Boss, you know which one I meant.” You blink several times, still puzzled. “Alright, did anyone shove something up their ass in front of Pierce?” You drone. More snickers answer. You meet Rocio's gaze, they smile at you, and nod. It looks as though they might cry. Jesus Christ, this is why you shouldn’t be nice.

“Pierce?” You callout again.

“You know I’m not good with names!” He blurts, still grinning.

“Point, bitch!” You demand. Pierce rolls his eyes and points to Rocio. The others fall silent. You give Pierce a short nod. “I said the rest of you are dismissed.” Your face falls instantly as you stare coldly into their eyes, pausing to do so individually .

The teens’ smiles fade, and they’re back to being nervous trainwrecks. After they disperse, you lead Rocio to your office with Pierce at your side.

Closing the door behind them, you gesture for Rocio to sit opposite your desk and Pierce takes his place at the side of it.

Rocio looks up at you, they’re far more afraid now than when they first met you. You lean back in your chair, pull a cigarette from your desk, and begin to smoke. Once you mind has entered business mode, you speak, a couple moments later.

“Pierce, why has Rocio caught your attention?” You ask, not looking at either of them. Pierce straightens up.

“The kid’s got talent. She’s a great shot for how much experience she has, and pretty smart too. She even broke a guy’s collar bone when she was being canonized.” You pause, turning your attention to Rocio and looking them straight in the eyes.

“She?” You inquire. Rocio shuffles uncomfortably, not meeting your gaze. “Yeah… she. ” You blink. “Are we misgendering you…?” You ask slowly. Immediately, she looks up at you, her face brightening.

“No, no… I’m just a lesbian; butch is kinda my thing…” She explains. She must have thought you might be homophobic or something. Ha. Now that would be ironic. You glance at Pierce. “Did he know before he called you gay?” You ask. Pierce’s eyes light up.

“No but, it’s not like I try to hide it…” She stammers. You exchange another look with Pierce. “I’m sure he meant nothing by it… right?” The last word comes out harsher than the rest.

“Not at all.” He affirmes.

“Well,” you start, clapping your hands together. “If Pierce thinks you’ve got that much potential, you’ll be spending a lot more time on missions, rather than just jumping fat cats.” You continue. “Pierce, I want her trained a bit more and to do some of the uglier jobs before we delve too deep.” Pierce smiles.

“You got it, Boss.” He professed. You look to Rocio. She nods and smiles. You turn your attention back to her.

“Try not to be this sweet with everyone, kiddo. Unless that’s how you plan on luring them…” You trail off. In your youth, if you had known how easy it was to trick assholes into a false sense of security, you would've had way more pocket cash. But back to the matter at hand.

Rocio smiles again, this time more slyly. “Don’t worry, Boss; I’m not a nice person.” She surmises, her teeth sparkling in the purple light.

 


 

“I’ve got an update on Miller.” Kinzie announces, barging into your room. You nearly leap in the air.

“KINZIE.” You bellow, your towel has fallen and several sex workers are passed out in your bed. The few that are awake jump too.

She pauses, taking in the sight longer than she should have. “Jesus christ…” you exasperate. “What?” She demands, completely oblivious to how wrong this was.

“Can you please, for the love of god, get... the fuCK OUT?” You shriek. Why is it always Kinzie? Well, Pierce would just laugh then leave, Shaundi would throw condoms at you and leave, Viola would insult you and leave, and Oleg would have half a mind to high-five you, before he leaves . Only Kinzie would react that way, and cause this situation in the first place. Wonderful.

“Well, I thought you’d like to know he’ll be in Detroit this week!” She declares, sassy as hell.  “I’d love to know!” You start, screeching. “Over the phone. Or a text!” You shrug dramatically. “Or maybe you can fucking knock if you want to tell me in person!” The rest of the sex workers have woken up now. Some are trying to shuffle into the ensuite, while others stay to watch the screaming match.

“I thought it was important!”

“You think the fitbit conspiracies are important!”

“You don’t even know what a fitbit is!”

“Yeah, well you’re being a fit-bitch!”

“I don’t even workout!”

“You only barged in because you wanted to see me naked again!”

“And?”

You freeze; it’s dead silent. Kinzie’s eyes bulge. Clearly, she had not meant to say that last part. A crash breaks the silence. The two of you whip your heads to see that all the sexworkers have crawled out of your window and taken the fire escape out. One of them has kicked over your favourite ceramic bowl with a cello and cheese wheel painted on it.

“Awww.... my favourite ceramic bowl with a cello and cheese wheel painted on it…” You say, looking at the pieces on the floor. You turn back to Kinzie. “Look what you did!” You croak, pointing to it. Kinzie rolls her eyes and scoffs. “Rid you of your tacky dollar-store china?”

You clench your fists and your eyes narrow.

“Kinzie…” You start. “Fine, fine. I’ll turn around while you put some clothes on.” That’s not what you meant, but what-fucking-ever. After she turns her head, you begin to shake your own, grimacing as you yank a pair of jean and a purple sweatshirt from your drawers. You nearly fall over while trying to squeeze into your jeans, and you can’t help but feel a bit better after putting on your hoodie; the inside is so soft against your skin.

“K.” You state, Kinzie turns around. “How the hell did you get into my place, anyway?” You ask. You know you locked your door. Kinzie stares at you in disbelief. “I made your security system.” She sneers.

You stare at her, taken back. “Fair point…” You finally say, nodding. She stares at you expectantly.

“Are you going to stand there, or do I have to carry you the airport?”

You furrow your brows. “Okay, one; you never said anything about a plane, and second, I thought we established that you weren’t a fit-bitch.” Kinzie scoffs at your response.

“Well do you not want to beat Miller’s tiny ass to a pulp?” You raise a brow.

“I thought you would have waited for my orders.” You claim, causing Kinzie to sigh. 

“Boss, it’s no fucking secret you take everything personally, and you like to deal with it personally. Don’t tell me you don’t want to wring that scrawny neck of his after you spared him, and he returned the favour by keeping Johnny in an underground torture facility.”

She had a point, a very good one. And she sure as hell wasn’t wrong about your style of dealing with shit. You had no personal quarrels with Killbane, so you didn’t have much interest of spending 13 hours in a plane just to pop him yourself. He didn’t threaten any of your lieutenants or friends specifically, apart from Angel. You don’t really care about that though; the little shit suggested you let Shaundi die for his personal vendetta. But Miller…

You showed him mercy, he was just a kid afterall, and posed no threat to any of the Saints. He humiliated Kinzie, but apart from that, he was just an arrogant, scrawny, little, scene teenager. The kid was a brilliant hacker, and even if Loren didn’t tell him, there was no way Miller couldn’t have known.

Because of this, you’re willing to let Kinzie’s assumptions slide.  

“So when does my flight leave?” You ask, after taking it all in. “Half an hour.” She answers, not missing a beat. Your jaw drops. “And you didn’t think to tell me?” You shriek. “I tried calling but you didn’t answer, so I left a message.” Kinzie snaps back at you. You press your fingers to your lips.

“Kinzie,” You start, gesturing your hands to her. “This is not the kind of thing you leave a voice message about.”

“Which is why  I came here in person!” She exasperates. “Then why didn’t you lead with it?” You demand, to which she shrugs. “It’s Miller!” She says defensively. You groan and rest your forehead in the palm of your hand.

“Just… help me pack…” You mumble, turning around and getting one of your leather backpacks before heading to the ensuite to get your toiletries. “What shirt do you want?” She calls out from your walk in closet.

“One of the cool-purple nonwrinkle ones! Fouth rack on the right!” You bellow. Hopefully, she’ll have the sense to check the tag. Last time she helped you pack for a trip this shortsighted, she packed you a lilac colored suit jacket, when you specifically asked for the lavender one.

“You going in your underwear or should I grab you something to cover your ass?”

“The usual!”

After collecting your toiletries, you return to Kinzie and she carefully places them in your bag as well. Instinctively, you go to your shoe rack and pick out a pair of your favourite Guccis and put them in the bag with your other shit.

“Alright, let's go.” You declare, Kinzie nods and follows you out. You feel your phone vibrate in your pocket. Shaundi has texted you; Boss, where the fuck are you? We’re scheduled to leave in 20??

You purse your lips in the elevator, not saying a word to Kinzie until the two of you have entered your car. “Who else is going with us to Detroit?” Your voice quiet, but building with anger as you begin to drive. Your chauffeur has left one of your muscle cars for you, leaving a note, along with a parking pass for the airport. It seems that everyone new about this trip but you. Your nostrils begin to flare.

“Shaundi, Pierce… and some newbie. Pierce said you were okay with it.” Must be Rocio. You grunt, your hands flying from the stick to the wheel as you barrel down the highway.

“Boss?” Your eyes dart to Kinzie, for a moment before going back to the road.

“Run things by me before you decide shit.” You snarl. “Being my friend doesn't mean jack shit when it comes to making Saints related decisions. Got it?” You turn your head towards her, holding her gaze.

“...Got it…” She mumbles. You grimace, rolling your eyes before you turn your attention back to the road. It’s silent after that.

“Text Shaundi that we’re parking.” You order, turning into the parking lot and flying over speed bumps. You could drive safely, and you could try to not damage your car, but considering on how easy and cheap it is to get a muscle car with the same likeness and specs, you decide not to.

You park horizontally, taking up four spaces, and readjust the fleur hood ornament on the car. It’s purple, after all, and no one is going to give your car a ticket, let alone tow it. A security officer drives by you with one of those cart things. You whip out your gun and point it at her.

“I need your thingy, get the hell out.” Kinzie raises a brow as the officer stares at you in confusion. “It’s an airport golfcart, Boss.” Kinzie grumbles. “I don’t care what it’s called, get the fuck off it!” You demand, stepping toward the security officer. “Okay, okay!” She whimpers, leaping off of it and watches as you and Kinzie board and begin to drive, very slowly, away.

“I always thought these things were faster…” You mention. Kinzie scoffs. “Maybe that Freckle Bitch’s diet is getting to your ass.” She ventures. You glare at her. “ Excuse me? I’m a twiggy little bitch, and you know it.” You dictate, Kinzie rolls her eyes, smirking.

By the time you get to your apron, Shaundi has called you 6 times and Pierce has already had three inflight caesars, a glass of champagne, and four tequila shots. At least it’s a private jet so they can't leave without you, but still. It’s not exactly ideal to have Pierce drunk in a confined moving space. There’s not a doubt in your mind that he’ll puke, but the question is whether or not it will be on your freshly cleaned white carpet, or in one of the plane’s lavatories.

Shaundi freezes once you and Kinzie are in sight, crosses her arms as you two become closer, and marches up to when you’re finally within decent range on the loading area.

“Where the fuck were you?” She demands. You shrug, raising your brows. “Kinzie forgot to mention that I have a flight to catch today…” You state, glancing at Kinzie who’s avoiding eye contact. You have decided against mentioning that this was all Kinzie’s idea, you didn’t even give the okay, and that you didn’t know about it until an hour ago. Perhaps if Rocio wasn’t there you’d mention it, but the last thing you want is your authority undermined.

As much as you want the others to know how badly Kinzie fucked you over, you know it’s in your own best interests to keep your mouth shut about it.

“Besides,” you continue. “I wasn’t late; it’s my plane, we leave when I want.” You declare like the full blown asshat you are. Shaundi glares at you, causing you to grimace. You lean into her as Kinzie boards.

“I’m sorry, I was partying last night and hungover as shit. Kinzie only woke me up forty minutes ago.” You explain, whispering. Shaundi exhales, rolling her eyes. She won’t admit it right now; she's far too grumpy, but she understands.

“Well now we got a drunk Pierce because of it.” She complains, you smirk. “How’s the kid handling it?” Shaundi scoffs. “Oh? You mean Pierce’s bullshit or yours?” She sneers.

You snicker. “Both.” Shaundi bites her lip, raising her brows as she pauses to think.

“She’s nervous, but seeing Pierce get shitfaced is helping her get more comfortable.” You nod, taking in the situation. “Well let’s get going, we can talk business on the flight.” “No kidding.” Shaundi agrees. The two of you file up the stairs onto the plane. 

“Aaayyyyy boss!!!” Pierce howls from one of the luxury seats. “Where have you beeeen? Man I miss you!” He screams. Rocio is giggling at him from one of the couches.

“Buckle up, Pierce.” You say with a smile. It seems you would be dealing with happy drunk Pierce.

“Man… I missed you…” He blubbers into his hands. Or… not. You turn to Shaundi. “You let him have this much?” You yell-whisper. “Hey, I’m not his mom.” She states defensively. You grimace, biting your lip.

“Bosssss….” Pierce starts, fumbling with his seatbelt. “You’re so pretty!” Jesus fucking christ. “You’re so pretty, Pierce.” You state monotonically as you walk over to buckle it for him.

Pierce gasps loudly, his hands flying to his face. “Awwwww… Thank you!” He hoots, wiggling to the beat of his words so vigorously he hits his head on the wall of the plane. “Ow…” He whimperes, reaching his hand to where he hit his head. Rocio burst out laughing.

“Hey cap, let’s rock this bitch!” You shout to the cockpit. Kinzie rolls her eyes with a smirk, already perched on one of the recliners.

“You got it, Boss!” The captain retorts, shouting back, Pierce is tapping you wildly, you turn back to him. “We’re on an airplane!” He screeches in delight once he’s captured your attention.

“Yes we are, Pierce.” You affirm. He starts wiggling again...Or is it dancing…?

“Can we pretend that airplanes in the night sky are like shooting stars? I could use a wish right nooowww, wish right nooowww, wish right nahahOW!” He screeches at the top of his lungs. This was going to be a long flight. At least now you know that he was probably trying to dance.

“Can you shut him up?” Kinzie demands, her voice full of rage. You raise a brow, glancing back at Pierce as you plop down besides Kinzie. The jets start and plane begins to head towards the runway. “I think he’s pretty good, actually.” You remark.

“Good? He’s not even singing, he’s just fucking screaming!” Kinzie barks, her nostrils flaring. “You’ve always been jealous of these pipes, Kinz!” Pierce bellows in response. Shaundi grimaces, pulling out some headphones from her purse as Rocio laughs, watching intently.

You shrug. “He’s got a point, Kinz. We all know you can’t sing for shit.” You proclaim. Pierce whoops in the background. “Ha! Boss likes me mo oo oore!” He taunts. Kinzie is about to lose her shit. You might feel bad, that is, if she hadn’t grandly fucked you over and burst into your room without knocking. But she did, so instead you chuckle sadistically and decide to encourage Pierce even more.

“Will you shut up?” Kinzie fumes. “I’m trying to do some fucking work!” The plane has just lifted off the ground.

Pierce shrugs, once… twice… and then begins to shake his shoulders while raising his hands in confusion, smirking. You can’t help but snicker now. Shaundi stares at the three of you in confusion, her headphones on and heavy metal blasting. She gives you a concerning look, as though asking if she even wants to know. You smile and shake your head at her.

She blinks, chuckles to herself, then closes her eyes as she gets back into her music.

“Rocio!” Pierce calls out. She looks at him like a deer in the headlights. “Sing with me!” He demands, his voice cracking. “HELL NO.” Kinzie growls. You gasp, clutching your chest, utterly offended. “Pierce… you’d sing without me?”

“I thought you would sing with us anyways; we always sing together!” He whines. You smile back. Kinzie’s head darts back and forth between you three.

“FUCK NO.” She roars, but the three of you ignore her. Shaundi hasn’t moved, she must be wearing those noise canceling ones she mentioned getting a while back. Good, you only want Kinzie to be pissed. Rocio seems to be enjoying herself, so there was no problem there.

Rocio looks at you, asking for your permission. You give her a small nod, smirking. Rocio smiles back, licking her lips. You whip out your phone.

“Pierce, I got us one right here… ” You say, opening up your music app, linking your bluetooth to the speakers, and pressing play. The music starts.

“BOSS.” Kinzie screeches. You and Rocio snicker, her face lighting up at the sound of the song. Pierce squeals in delight.

“You know this one?” You ask. It’s pretty old, but catchy as hell. Rocio grins and nods. “Yeah, I have a pretty diverse music taste.” She explains. “Good, same here.” You begin to bob your head to the beat. Rocio grins and follows your lead.

“YEAH!!!” Pierce bellows as the lyrics come up. The three of you exchange eye contact, grinning. Kinzie tries to make a run for the bathroom, only to find that the copilot has the runs.

Fuck. ” She exasperates. It’s too late now.

“There lived a certain man, in Russia long ago-” You and Pierce start.

“He was big and strong, his eyes a flaming glow” Rocio echoes.

“Most people look at him, with terror and a fear-”

“But to Moscow chicks he was such a lovely dear”

“hE cOULd preach the bIBLE LIke a PREAcher, full of ecstacy and fire!” The three of you sing in unison. Kinzie screeches and bangs on the bathroom door. You’re all beaming. Shaundi has even opened up her eyes to see what kind of torture you had bestowed on Kinzie, going so far as to lift off part of her headphones. After hearing the song and the three of you sing, she snickers, rolls her eyes, and goes back to jamming.

After the song finishes, Kinzie lets out a sigh of a relief, thinking that it’s over. Little does she know that while you were singing, you compiled all of the most obnoxious songs you have into a single playlist , and are about to blast it on the plane. By the time the copilot exits the restroom, Kinzie has discovered that the door is not remotely soundproof, and even if it was, that it has speakers linked to the bluetooth as well.

There is no escape from your weird music tastes and terrible singing…

Kinzie is stuck listening for the next four hours to your shit-tacular songs. After the first hour, she gives up on trying to escape; she can’t find her headphones. (You totally stole them and hid them somewhere she’d never go; Pierce's hair styling bag.) She lies on the couch as though she’s having an existential crisis. But the real kicker is that the playlist is only an hour and a half long, so she has to listen to it over and over again.

After the first playthrough, you stop singing every song, only doing the ones you really like. After the second, Pierce has passed out. Even you get sick of your own fucking songs, but like hell that’s going to stop you from torturing Kinzie. Instead, you do six shots, Rocio does four and the two of you go back to belting out the songs. You’ve drank so much water for your throat, you spend just as much time singing beside Kinzie as you do in the bathroom.

You and Rocio take another three shots each as Party in the USA comes on. Before you know it, the two of you are dancing on the table, laughing like there’s no tomorrow.

When the plane lands, you and Rocio are completely shitfaced, Kinzie is pissed the fuck off, Pierce is being carried out by the pilot, and Shaundi has taken a nice nap. You stumble onto the tarmac, nearly face planting into the ground as Rocio laughs at you before slipping down the stairs herself.

“Great, now we got two children to take care of.” Shaundi grumbles. You point some finger guns at her. “Fuck yeah! I’m a little kid, bitch!” You bellow. The world spins around you and before you know it, you’re on your hands and knees, laughing uncontrollably. Kinzie struts past you, not even looking at you.

“Oh wuhow… We really pissed her off!” You giggle. Rocio flops down on the asphalt, still laughing. “Hhmm she’s gonna kill me…” She grumbles, shriveling up. “NO!” You scream, placing both your hands on her shoulders. “I shall protect thou from thine evil being of Steel-ith-port-ye!” You exclaim in a thick shakespearean accent. Shaundi stares at you in disbelief as Rocio giggles.

“You said potty…”

“Shaundi look!” You cajole, grabbing Rocio’s face. “I made a friend!” You look up at her, beaming. Shaundi sighs, shaking her head while trying not to laugh. “You hungry Boss? There’s pizza at the hotel…”

Rocio gasps and climbs over you “What kind?” She demands with a crazed look in her eyes. “Everything.” Shaundi retorts, pushing the kid’s face away from her. Rocio topples over, laughing. “Even pineapple, tomato, banana pepper?” She extols. Shaundi raises a brow. “Sure.” She ventures, turning back to you. “Need a hand?”

“Thanks.” You say smiling as she helps you up. Rocio is still freaking out over pizza when you tell her it’s time to go.

“Oi, shitfuck. We gotta go to the hotel to have pizza, move your ass.” You order, Shaundi holding you steady.

“HELL YEAH!” She bellows, scrambling to her feet. The three of you shuffle to one of those golf cart things you commandeered earlier, with the pilot sitting with the kid in the back, still carrying Pierce. For once, you’re not driving. Shaundi parks it right in front of the limo that’s waiting for you, Kinzie has already gone inside and the drive is holding the door open for you.

“Cap, if you’d be so kind as to ride shotgun so I can drunkenly ramble to my gang, that would be lovely.” You slur, looking at your pilot. They give you a salute.

“You got it, Boss.” They say after gently placing Pierce on one of the couch-like seats in the back and helping the three of you into the car.

“Oleg is flying out tomorrow.” Kinzie states once you’re all seated. “Not that you’ll remember that.” She mutters to herself.

“I have the bestest memory!” You hoot defensively. Rocio nods. “Yeah, they even remembered my name!” She exclaims in delight. “Rocio, Rocio, Rocio!” You call out. Rocio giggles. “Boss, Boss, Boss!” She answers, her head falling on your shoulder.

You smile. While you’re not big on physical contact, you’ll allow it, just this once… Before you know it, she starts to drift off. By the time you reach the hotel, you’ve sobered up, just a little bit, and you get the driver and pilot to help you bring both Pierce and Rocio in. You don’t dare ask Kinzie for help, knowing full well how much of a dick you were today.

Shaundi helps you into your room. “Hey… can you make sure that Pierce and Rocio are sleeping on their sides?” You mumble before belly flopping onto your king size bed. “Already did.” She assures you, sighing. “Pierce is just waking up now.” You glance at the clock on your nightstand. It’s 12:04am. Right, time zones… you weren’t in the car for that long…

“Okay.” Your voice muffled by your mattress. “Wanna get room service with me and watch D-list movies?” You ask, rolling over to look at her. She checks her watch. “Sure, Kinzie said Miller will be here for a couple days, so we won’t need to wake up early tomorrow…” Shaundi breathes, kicking off her boots and plopping down beside you.

You fumble through the nightstand drawers, looking for a menu. “Okay… do you want snails, creamy snails, or spicy snails?” You ask after staring at the menu for a moment. Shaundi scoffs. “How about none of the above? What else do they got?” You continue to read the menu. “I dunno, this place is fancy as fuck, I can’t find the normal people food…” You trail off. Shaundi glances over your shoulder.

“Fuck it, okay.” You blurt picking up the phone and leaning back into the pillows besides Shaundi.

“Heyo, I’d like some chicken strips or whatever deep fried chicken shit- not literal shit- you guys have. Also, I want a shit ton of orange juice, none of that concentrated shit, and two grilled cheeses-”  Shaundi nudges you. “Make that three grilled cheeses, and extra cheese-ily gourmet, with all the fancy-ass cheese you guys got here. Speaking of cheese, we’ll take some mozza sticks too.”

There is a pause.

“...This is the front desk…” A voice says.

“Oh… whoops…” Shaundi stares at you as you hang up. “You didn’t dial the kitchen, did you?” She comments. You blink, pursing your lips. “Yeah I did, I just feel the need to repeat my order.” You deny, dialing on the phone keypad.

“Room service, how can I help you?” A voice asks. You recite the order. The voice pauses. “We serve food here…” They taunt. Your nostrils flare. “Hey, can you look at my room number?” You utter, your voice low and cold. “And why should I-” Their voice fails them. They must have actually looked to see who they were talking to.

“Very sorry about the misunderstanding.” The voice falters. “You mentioned chicken strips, orange juice, and mozza sticks…?” You smirk. “And three grilled cheeses.” You state monotonically. “We’ll get right on it.”

“You better.” You growl before hanging up.

Shaundi snickers, her head falling back against the pillows. As you lie down beside her, the two of you share a silent moment. That after everything... after all the shit you two have been through, things were going back to the way they were. It was getting better, the world seemed brighter, but at the same time, things were changing as well.

Somehow you knew, you knew that there was more to this than just Miller and that it was only the beginning. But history wouldn’t repeat itself; Gat wouldn’t die, you refuse to let him. You’ll go to hell and back to get him, then punch him in his stupid, perfect, jaw for being so fucking reckless.

“He really is alive, isn’t he?” Shaundi breathes, finally breaking the silence. You turn your head to her, mere inches away from your noses booping. You study the faint scars on her face, as well as its structure and her worry lines. She’s been through so much…

“Yeah… he’s back…” You whisper, still looking at her. Her gaze meets your own and she turns her head to face you. You swallow hard. Of all the people who could have seen you cry, you’re glad it was Shaundi and Pierce, and even more pleased that Gat was not awake to see you crying over him. The reason you think of this now, is that it’s almost like a telepathic connection going on between you two, or maybe it’s empathetic… and it’s almost as though you can feel each other’s emotions.

Shaundi smiles, licking her lips and slowly blinking. “I still can’t believe it…” She mutters. You can see that she’s on the brink of tears. Hopefully, she doesn't have a breakdown. You aren’t quite sure you could hold one back yourself if that happened, and frankly, you have no desire to bawl your eyes out and blow your nose until it’s raw.

“Me neither.” you breathe back, “But that just means we can sleep easier now; we’ve spent enough tears on the past.” You continue. Shaundi nods, smiling once again. “I still think you’re scary when you’re empathetic…” She jokes, lightening the mood.

You scoff. “I’m scary all the time! I’m the meanest, badassest, most swagalicious being on the whole damn planet.” She chuckles. “Stop trying to sound hip with the ‘swag’ bullshit.” She snickers.

“Why? Did you not see my status about it?” Shaundi rolls her eyes, smiling. “You’re impossible.”

“Anythings possible if you try hard enough…” You chide, throwing her a wink which gets you a pillow to the face.

“Kinky.” You mumble into it. Shaundi snorts as someone knocks on the door. “Room Service!” The person announces. “Just a sec!” Shaundi calls out before lifting the pillow off your face to see you wiggling your eyebrows excessively and making the cringiest creeper face you can muster. Shaundi frowns, and throw the pillow at you with such force you fall off the bed and land on the floor in a heap.

Shaundi opens the door to some waiters, (or whoever delivers the room service at hotels) who prance in and place the platters of food on the sparkling glass table in one of the other rooms of your suite. “Here you are, chicken strips, mozza sticks, freshly squeezed orange juice, and three grilled cheeses .” He says nasally.

“Thanks. Boss, you wanna tip them?” Shaundi asks. You grumble, pulling yourself from the ground and delve your hand into your bag, pulling out a cigar. The waiter guy has his palm open and waits expectantly for you, but instead you shove the cigar in his mouth and slam the door in his face.

“Classy.” Shaundi comments, raising a brow. “Hey, it was a $50 cigar.” You say defensively, making your way to the food. Shaundi follows you and sits in the chair beside you. You turn on the TV that hangs on the wall opposite you two.

“How does Dawn of the Dragon Slayer sound?” You ask, flipping through netflix. “Awful.” She retorts. You crack a smile, turning to her and meeting her gaze.

“Then it’s perfect for tonight.” You divulge, turning on the fireplace with the touch of the remote. Shaundi rolls her eyes before looking back into your own.

 

Go To B3

Chapter Text

It was terrible. It was cheesy. It was awful. But what made it okay was that you and Shaundi were talking shit about it and laughing the entire time. It was a quiet night, and while both of you offered to take the couch for the other, you ended up sleeping in the king size together.

Perhaps if it wasn’t king sized it could have been significant, but it was. Nothing was going to happen and nothing did happen.

Aside from the two of you waking up in each other’s arms, with your legs entwined. You prayed she didn’t take it the wrong way, but she has also seen you in far more questionable states, so you decide not to think much of it. You hope she does the same.

The two of you make your way to the gourmet breakfast buffet downstairs. Rocio is slumped over with 3 mugs of coffee around her, and Pierce is attempting to shove an entire danish in his mouth while talking. Kinzie is having a cup of tea, playing games on her phone.

You grab some of your favourite pastries while Shaundi snags some fruit from the chocolate fountain and a slice of quiche. Once sitting down with the others, you begin to talk.

“Kinzie, do you know where in Detroit Miller is?” You ask before taking a bite from your plate of food. “Good morning to you too.” She taunts.

“Boss, since we in Detroit and all, how about we hit up one of those theatres or something?” Pierce buts in. “Business first.” You state.

“Kinzie?”

“They’re providing security for a English VIP… Some model or something… Anyway, security will be tight; the model has pissed off a lot of American designers, politicians, and CEOs.” You raise a brow.

“How does a model get that many enemies?” You ask, dumbfuck. “By using her brain, and being an anti capitalist held in a high regard.” She states, matter-of-factly.

“So… Miller will be... “ You start, waiting for Kinzie to finish. “Near her…?” She ventures, not looking up from her phone.

“Find out. When’s the fashion thing?” You demand.

“Ooo that’s actually at the art gallery right across from the Douglas College!” Pierce gushes. You pause, you know exactly what gallary he’s talking about. “Kinzie, the model wouldn’t happen to be Blair Hempton, you know, the one with four PHDs, in sociology, neurology, political science, and psychology, with a bestselling book on the benefits of social democracy, who raised over half a billion for aids research in three months, and has called out the toxic culture of modeling on international television multiple times?” You articulate.

Kinzie stares at you in annoyance. “Well her name  is  Blair Hempton-” “Jesus fuck…” You rest your face in your palms. “What?” Shaundi demands. “We’re not going to kill Blair hempton…” You grumble. You’ve been a fan of hers for over a decade.

“Wait we were gonna do that?” Pierce exclaims, his jaw dropping. You pull your face out of your hands. “Well we weren’t going to make sure that their VIP lives!”

“What does the fact that she’s a humanitarian have anything to do with that?” Shaundi demands. Rocio grumbles. You and Kinzie jump, forgetting she was there. “Please… talk quieter....” Her face still resting on the table as her body retracts.

You roll your eyes, the kid needs to be more hangover preventative if she’s going to roll with you.  

“Have you  seen  her makeup line? Bitch is popping out foundations for black girls at a reasonable price, like hell we gonna mess with that. Women of colour deserve that much.” You elaborate.

Shaundi massages her temples. “We’re really going to put our entire operation in jeopardy, over  makeup ?” She grumbles.

“Bitch, that ain't just makeup! It’s the start of a revolution!” Pierce objects loudly. Rocio shushes us again.

“I agree with Pierce, racial accommodation is too important to piss away. Besides, Miller doesn’t know that we don’t want to kill Hempton, we threaten both of them and he’ll squeal.” You elaborate. Kinzie looks up. “Is that the plan?” She asks, raising a brow.

“Yep. Kinzie, I want you to get as much info as you can on Miller and his partner. I’ll be going after Hempton with Pierce, Shaundi and Oleg will get Miller. And Kinzie-” “I’m your eyes, got it.” She drones.

“Oleg’s flight is arriving now.” Kinzie announces.

You give her a nod. “Okay the events start at, what, seven? So we regroup here at 5. Until then, we got free time. Kinzie, can you also find some abandoned building where we can take MI6?” Your voice is assertive, but not to the point where you’re being a dick.

“Already on it…” She utters.

You turn back to Pierce. “I need you to set up a press conference for Tuesday.” You state. Pierce stares at you in confusion. “Boss, it is Tuesday….” He reminds. Fuck, how long were you partying for? “Fuck okay, make it Thursday then.” You order. “Aay, you got it, Boss.” Pierce smiles.

Now back to the matter at hand, if you’re going to try to get MI6 subtly, you will have to look the part. And that means going on a shopping spree. When you tell the crew this, Pierce agrees, Shaundi groans, Kinzie thanks her science god that she’s not going in with you, and Rocio snores. You want to train the kid, but you’re not sure if now is the best time. You can’t fuck up an opportunity like this, so you have her watch the action with Kinzie.

After going shopping, it’s about time to get ready. Purple would be a dead giveaway as to who you are, so you all go with various colours. Pierce is in a white tux, Shaundi, a sky blue mermaid skirted gown, and you, well, you didn’t get featured in Vanity Fair for nothing.

Now there’s just the matter of getting in, which Kinzie has already ensured by getting the four of you on the list. You text Oleg about the colours thing, and sure enough, he shows up in a silk burgundy suit.

After walking inside, the four of you break. You weave in and out through the crowd.

“Kinzie, you got a visual on Miller?” You utter into your earpiece.

“He’s on the fourth floor, Hempton and what looks like her bodyguard is on the second.” Kinzie answers. “Thanks, did everyone get that?” You caution, various words of approval answer you. “Alright, let’s move.”

You meet Pierce at the elevator, Shaundi and Oleg have taken the stairs since it’s only one flight. As the two of you board, he looks at you expectantly.

“Boss,” He starts, you meet his gaze. “Don’t get any ideas, I’m not Oleg.” You jest. Pierce rolls his eyes. “Not a problem.” He comments.

“Ouch.” You retort, Pierce snorts before his face begins to fall.

“Are we going to talk about what happened in the cell?” You stiffen. “Not now.” The last thing you need is to have any of those emotions brought up here. You know Pierce is trying to help, but you can’t do this now. Now isn't the time for bonding, it is the time for fucking vengeance.

Pierce nods. He’s grown over the years. He probably would’ve kept at it, even after you dismissed it. The elevator door dings. The two of you exit.

“Kinzie?” You ask.

“Rocio’s on sniper, she’ll make sure he doesn’t escape through the windows. There are two entries to the room he’s in.” You nod at Pierce. “Take the longer one. Tell me when you’re in position.” You order. “You got it.”

“And uh…. Which way is the longer one?” He adds after taking a few steps. Kinzie groans. “Hallway on your left, take the second right, and then another right. Boss, yours is just on your right and straight ahead.”

“Thanks.” You nod at Pierce. He starts to make is way down the corridor. You inhale deeply, and pull out your underwear pistol. Slowly, you make your way to the door, pausing once you’ve reached it.

Several moments pass. “In position.” Pierce confirms. “On three.” You order.

“Three.”

The two of you burst in the room, kicking down the doors, to find Miller on his laptop in the middle of the room with half a twinkie in his mouth. He stares at you, wide eyed and utterly confused. He’s sitting on a red leather couch facing some of the paintings on the walls.

“Hands up, asswipe.” You growl, pointing your pistol at his head.

“Dude, where the fuck did you have a gun in that outfit?” Pierce exasperates. The twinkie falls out of Miller’s mouth as his hands begin to raise. “Why in god’s name are you here?” He demands, dumbfuck.

“Shut up, both of you!” You snarl. “I pulled it from my g-string.” You explain, turning to Pierce. “Damn, I thought you were just packing…” He snickers. “Didn’t realize you were looking at my groin to begin with.” You banter back, eyes still on Miller.

“Get up, remove all tech, weapons, and inspector gadget shit you have and bring your bitch ass over here.”

There’s a large crash. The three of you all look to the floor. “Well shit.” Pierce states, grabbing Miller and pressing a gun to his head as he pats him down. “Oleg is going all out, isn’t he?” You blink, still frowning. You don’t mention it in front of Matt, but it’s very possible that his partner is proving to be a difficult target. No matter, the two most tactical Saints were together on it, so it shouldn’t be a problem.

“Update.” You demand, not daring to mention Kinzie’s name in front of Miller.

“The MI6 agent was holding her own against Oleg, Shaundi threw a 60 million dollar art piece at her head, and, well, Rocio managed to shoot her in the leg. She’s not going anywhere.” You grunt. “What piece was it?” You demand.

“Boss?” Kinzie says, trying to comprehend what you’re asking. “The art piece, who made it?” You bellow. Matt and Pierce stare at you. “Uh… It was a Agostino Tassi-” You grin wildly. “Good. He was an overated, pedophilic, pretentious, asslicking, cunt, and an insult to the art community…” You snarl, interrupting her. She doesn’t really know how to respond to that.

“Okay, Boss.” She just says.

“What was that?” Pierce asks, snickering. “Shaundi destroyed an Argostino Tassi.” You explain. Pierce stares at you in surprise.

“Really? Shit, I knew our girl had taste!” He exclaims, grinning from ear to ear.

“Will the two of you buffoons stop discussing art, and get on with your kidnapping?” Miller groans.

“This  buffoon  has a gun to your head, so you might want to be more polite.” Pierce barks. You smirk. “Yeah, aren’t you limeys supposed to be all gentlemanly and shit?” You add, walking back out the door as Pierce follows with Miller.

“You really are a massive asshole.” He grumbles, following you into the elevator. He’s still wearing that atrocious blue tie, but the rest of his outfit has matured, him wearing a midnight blue suit, you’re thinking it’s an Esther Patterson, but you haven't had time to study it, so you’re not entirely sure. He still has the fucking collar popped up like the uncultured, mid 2000’s scene idiot he was. It was almost enough for you to take away his credit for the quality of the suit, almost.

The elevator dings, and opens to the second floor. Shaundi is carrying some chick fireman style, with Blair frozen and contracted in-between her and Oleg. It takes everything in you not to gush.

“Asha!” Miller blurts. Shaundi gives him a terrifying glare as she closes the elevator door. Miller whips his head back to you. “Let her go! Your fight is with me!” He cries desperately.

“Hell nope.” You retort, meeting his gaze. “You fucking bitch!” He screeches. Shaundi’s pupils dilate. “Fucking cock-sucking bitch! Le-” Shaundi grabs Matt by the throat and shoves him against the wall, still with who you presume to be Asha on her shoulder.

“Listen here, you little cunt.” She snarls. “You got no fucking leverage and no-fucking-one to bail you out. I suggest you shut the hell up before one of us does it for you.”

Her face gets closer to his with every word, stuck in a constant sneer. She’s holding him up with one hand. Jesus, she must really be pissed to have that much adrenalin. Miller coughs, gasping for air before Shaundi drops him.

Damn!” Pierce exclaims, looking back and forth at Miller and Shaundi. “You really mean business!” Shaundi catches his gaze, daring him to joke again. Blair begins to tear up as Matt gasps for air on the floor.

“Pierce, help him up.” You order.

“Please, I’m just a model…” Blair whines. You turn to her, eyes wide.

“Bullshit, you’re a fucking icon for anti fascism and human rights!” You snort. Shaundi rolls her eyes.

“As if we would leave  you  unprotected. We’re just here for these shitfucks.” You explain as the elevator dings once again. Blair stares at you in confusion.

“Sorry Miss Hempton, I didn’t expect to be hearing from the Saints anytime soon.” Miller explains, his eyes not meeting hers.

“Wait then you’re-” Blair sputters, pointing at Shaundi, Pierce, and finally you.

“Yup. Oleg, if you don’t mind…?” You begin, but he’s already on it. He gags her, places a bag over her head, and picks her up.

“You’re infatuation with the fashion industry is unsettling.” He grunts. “Hey, you’re wearing a suit by Ralph Lauren.” You say defensively.

“I, however, do not worship his models.” He retorts. You have half a mind to go off on him, but that can wait until you’re home free. Taking one of the emergency exits, you find Rocio leaning against a Bear, waiting for you.

“How the fuck did you get here?” You demand. Rocio shrugs.

“Kinzie told me to pick you guys up after I shot MI6.” You raise a brow. Miller looks at her in horror.

“Well thanks.” Your phone vibrates; Kinzie has just sent you the location of where you’ll be interrogating Miller. “You… shot Asha…?” He stammers, Rocio saunters up to him.

“In the leg.” She sneers. You pause to watch. Rocio’s stance has widened and her eyes are cold and merciless.

“But you can thank the Boss for wanting her alive…” She growls, shoving him out of the way, and taking a place at Oleg’s side.

You smirk. Pierce was right about the kid. She does have potential. “Pierce, get Miller in the back with Shaundi, Rocio, Hempton, and Anna-” “Asha!” Miller corrects. You meet his gaze, silently telling him to shut up. “Oleg, you’re manning the gun.” You order. After everyone is seated inside, you begin to drive, following the gps on your phone.

“...Can you at least make sure she doesn’t bleed out?” Miller begs, breaking the silence. You roll your eyes. “Shaundi?”

“Already done. Figured we needed the hostage alive.”

“Hostage? Why the fuck do need a hostage? You already had your filthy underwear gun at my head.”

“That was a gun?” Shaundi blurts. “That makes so much more sense…” She mutters to herself. You hold back a snicker. Pierce however, does not.

“I’m surprised didn't have bullets hidden in your ass…” Pierce snickers to himself. You roll your eyes.

“C’mon is all this really necessary?” Miller continues. You grimace. “Just put a bullet in my head and be done with it.”

“You’ll need to specify on which head you mean with the Boss.” Rocio states blatantly.

You all freeze, taking in what she just said. Your jaw plummets, as you grimace and look in the rear-view mirror to see that Pierce’s has done the same, your lieutenants starring at Rocio.

"Jesus Christ..." You mutter, staring to chuckle. The others are starting to as well. Shaundi can't even look anyone in the eye, Pierce is losing it, and Oleg is just beaming. Before you know it, you’re all laughing uncontrollably. Hempton grunts, wiggling her legs.

“What exactly… do you mean by that…?” Miller stutters, faltering after you’ve all calmed down enough to hear him. “Take a guess, weeaboo.” Rocio states with a smirk. More snickers follow.

Miller’s face drops, mortified. For the rest of the trip, he doesn’t say a word. After bringing the three into the basement of the abandoned crack house on the outskirts, Kinzie arrives.

“Do you even have a plan?” She demands. You scoff, clutching your chest in offense. “I think we all know that my ‘winging it’ is good enough not to need one.” You proclaim, Kinzie rolls her eyes.

“Do you even have a plan?” She demands. You scoff, clutching your chest in offense. “I think we all know that my ‘winging it’ is good enough not to need one.” You proclaim, Kinzie rolls her eyes.

“I want Oleg, Kinzie, and Rocio down here. Shaundi, you and Pierce can leave if you want.” You state, pulling a tripod from Kinzie’s gear bag and beginning to set it up. Pierce and Shaundi exchange looks.

“We’re staying.” Pierce announces. You nod at him. “Kinzie, I want this recorded. We might need to review this later.” You explain, gesturing to the tripod. Miller’s eyes light up in fear.

He is chained to a chair, facing Asha and Hempton, also chained to chairs. You lightly slap Asha awake. She grumbles, blinking in the dim light.

“Alright,” You start, turning back to Miller. “Gat didn’t die on that plane.” You state, eyes piercing into Miller’s.

He freezes, swallowing hard.

“No… he didn’t…” He breathes. You nod. Asha stirs. “Matt?” She grumbles before looking around. “Where are we? Who the hell are you?” She demands angrily.

You gesture to Miller, wanting him to explain. Hempton is still gagged and sitting silently.

“Er…” Matt starts awkwardly. “...remember how I said I had a run in with the Saints a couple years ago?” Asha’s nostrils flare before she begins to look around wildly.

“Who the hell do you think you’re fucking with?” She snarls, trying to pick out the leader.

“A bitch of an ex-gangster and hacker, with a special agent who doesn’t know how to do her job.” Kinzie states slyly. You turn your head to her. “She’s a fuckup?” You ask. Kinzie rolls her eyes.

“Well, obviously; her VIP is a model.” She snorts.

“Well then, I’m guessing that if MI6 hears of how easy it was for a celebrity street gang to capture you and your partner, your career would be the least of your problems.” You theorize, grinning as your face gradually gets closer to Asha’s.

“Leave her alone!” Miller roars. You turn back to him, cocking your head to the side.

“Alright, Miller.” You growl. “Then tell me how you failed to mention that he was alive, after I spared your punk ass.” He twitches.

“You’re not getting away with this!” Asha roars. You snap your fingers and Oleg gags her too.

“Asha calm down.” Miller reassures her. She stares in his eyes, still full of fury. Miller turns back to you.

“Please, don-”

“Answer the fucking question.” You snarl. Miller stares at you, eyes wide with fear.

“I-I...I can’t…” He blubbers. You press the barrel of the gun to his knee.

“You can, and you  will .”

Asha shuffles, screaming into her gag. “Shut the fuck up or I’ll kill your VIP too!” You hiss.

Miller meets your gaze. He’s on the brink of tears. “... I can’t…” He echoes, shaking his head.

“Why not?”

Miller licks his lips. “Look,” He starts. “If it was just me that they’d kill if I talked, I’d tell you,” His voice falters. “But it’s not…”

“Who else, then?” You bark. He stares at you, blinking.

“My ex… They have my ex…” You raise a brow. “And you care this much about your ex? Enough for me to blow you?” You snarl before you pause, everyone stares at you.

“Well that  came  out wrong…” You state, pausing again before winking.

Miller’s eyes go wide, he looks as though he might scream. Rocio smirks.

“Does your ex have a name?” You ask. Miller swallows hard, grimacing. “Bailey Pipes.” He says quickly. You look to Kinzie.

“Yep, he’s being held in a privately owned Texas prison.” Kinzie confirms.

“Wait,  he? ” Pierce asks. “People can be gay, Pierce.” Shaundi drones. “I thought Miller had girlfriend...?” Oleg ponders. Miller looks at you sheepishly.

“I’m bi.” He explains.

“Called it.” Kinzie blurts. You snort.

“Hi bi, I’m fucking pissed.” You say with a smile. “Kinzie, can you get him out?” You ask, not looking at her. She snorts. “Of course I can, but why the hell are we helping  Miller ?”

You shrug at him. “We’ll get him out, and keep him safe. You gonna tell me what the fuck happened?” Miller scoffs at you.

“Like I’d believe that.” You purse your lips, looking away and bobbing your head.

Alright, let me rephrase that; Kinzie, can you put Mr Piper on death row from here?” You ask. Kinzie grins.

Hell yeah.

You turn back to Miller, raising your brows. Miller’s mouth is open and his face is twisted with astonishment and fear.

“You’re a fucking monster…” He sputters, voice faltering.

“I’m taking that as a no, Kinzie-” You start, but Miller interrupts you.

“I’ll tell you! Just don’t touch him!” He begs. You raise your hand, gesturing for Kinzie to stop, before you grab another chair and sit on it backwards, facing Miller.

“Tell me then.” You hiss, your eyebrows shooting up with your words. Miller draws a deep breath.

“Loren had him initially, and was going to send his head to you, but someone bought Gat off him. They paid a couple million from what I know.”

“And? Who bought him?” Now was not the time to get emotional. You can’t help but picture Gat in that cell again, and it takes everything in you to drive the image out of your head.

“I didn’t know the details-”

“TELL ME.” You roar, snapping. You’re in the cell again. Your breathing is short and quick. You were so close, so close to finding out who did this. Nothing will stop you. You’d take on the world if you had to.

But this time, all the fear and anxiety turn to rage. Your vision begins to blur. You need to know... you need to know who did this.

Miller stares at you, opening his mouth, unable to speak.

“I KNOW YOU LOOKED, ASSHOLE, I KNOW YOU KNOW WHO FUCKING DID THIS.” You shriek. You’re shaking again. You’ll kill something, anything. You need to know.

Pierce takes a few steps towards you. “Boss-” No, he won’t silence you like last time.

“Get away from me!” You snarl at him.

“Miller, who tortured my best friend? Who starved him? Who beat him senseless? Who…” You trail off, your voice faltering. Fuck, not now. If you let any more of your anger out, you might cry.

Miller meets your gaze, and licks his lips.

“Yeah… I  did  hack in; I found out…” He whimpers.

“And you know what happened when I did? She took Bailey and set him on fire right in front of me. Loren did  nothing …” He continues, tears had begun to roll down his cheeks.

“Loren said I deserved it… I was seventeen, Bailey was fucking sixteen... and she burnt his arm off, right in fucking front of me… She said that if I told anyone... that she’d finish the job…” He sobs.

Your breathing slows, and all your muscles relax. You never expected this. You never expected any of this… Matt didn’t either, he was just a kid trying to live his life, much like you when you joined the Saints. It was fucking insane. You’re fucking insane, you threw a chick in the back of a car and laughed when her boyfriend crushed her.

But in that moment, you do something far more crazy. You do something so insane, so outrageous, that even you think you might need therapy.

You hug Matt fucking Miller.

First he freezes, then once the shock has settled in, he lets his head fall onto your shoulder, sobbing softly on it. Everyone else in the room has frozen too.

“You better not stain anything…” You grumble. You’re not sure how, but he chuckles in the midst of his crying. You can feel tears filling your eyes too. You blink aggressively, waiting for them to clear before leaving the embrace and bolting outside.

“What the fuck was that?” Kinzie demands, interrupting your cancer stick time. You swallow.

“Kinzie…” You start, your voice hollow.

“I have no fucking idea…” You breathe, taking another puff as you turn your head away from her.

“We’re not killing him, are we?” She growls, leaning against the siding next to you. You scoff.

“Probably not.” You pause. Miller is the only link you have to the bitch who tortured Johnny, and even he was a victim of hers. It won’t be long until she figures out he talked and goes after Bailey.

It seems you have another choice to make…

 

A.) Keep your word to Matt, even though he didn’t agree to it

B.)Do nothing; you look soft enough after hugging him and not laying a finger on him

Chapter Text

It was terrible. It was cheesy. It was awful. But what made it okay was that you and Shaundi were talking shit about it and laughing the entire time. It was a quiet night, and while both of you offered to take the couch for the other, you ended up sleeping in the king size together.

Perhaps if it wasn’t king sized it could have been significant, but it was. Nothing was going to happen and nothing did happen.

Aside from the two of you waking up in each other’s arms, with your legs entwined. You prayed she didn’t take it the wrong way, but she has also seen you in far more questionable states, so you decide not to think much of it. You hope she does the same.

The two of you make your way to the gourmet breakfast buffet downstairs. Rocio is slumped over with 3 mugs of coffee around her, and Pierce is attempting to shove an entire danish in his mouth while talking. Kinzie is having a cup of tea, playing games on her phone.

You grab some of your favourite pastries while Shaundi snags some fruit from the chocolate fountain and a slice of quiche. Once sitting down with the others, you begin to talk.

“Kinzie, do you know where in Detroit Miller is?” You ask before taking a bite from your plate of food. “Good morning to you too.” She taunts.

“Boss, since we in Detroit and all, how about we hit up one of those theatres or something?” Pierce buts in. “Business first.” You state.

“Kinzie?”

“They’re providing security for a English VIP… Some model or something… Anyway, security will be tight; the model has pissed off a lot of American designers, politicians, and CEOs.” You raise a brow.

“How does a model get that many enemies?” You ask, dumbfuck. “By using her brain, and being an anti capitalist held in a high regard.” She states, matter-of-factly.

“So… Miller will be... “ You start, waiting for Kinzie to finish. “Near her…?” She ventures, not looking up from her phone.

“Find out. When’s the fashion thing?” You demand.

“Ooo that’s actually at the art gallery right across from the Douglas College!” Pierce gushes. You pause, you know exactly what gallary he’s talking about. “Kinzie, the model wouldn’t happen to be Blair Hempton, you know, the one with four PHDs, in sociology, neurology, political science, and psychology, with a bestselling book on the benefits of social democracy, who raised over half a billion for aids research in three months, and has called out the toxic culture of modeling on international television multiple times?” You articulate.

Kinzie stares at you in annoyance. “Well her name is Blair Hempton-” “Jesus fuck…” You rest your face in your palms. “What?” Shaundi demands. “We’re not going to kill Blair hempton…” You grumble. You’ve been a fan of hers for over a decade.

“Wait we were gonna do that?” Pierce exclaims, his jaw dropping. You pull your face out of your hands. “Well we weren’t going to make sure that their VIP lives!”

“What does the fact that she’s a humanitarian have anything to do with that?” Shaundi demands. Rocio grumbles. You and Kinzie jump, forgetting she was there. “Please… talk quieter....” Her face still resting on the table as her body retracts.

You roll your eyes, the kid needs to be more hangover preventative if she’s going to roll with you.  

“Have you seen her makeup line? Bitch is popping out foundations for black girls at a reasonable price, like hell we gonna mess with that. Women of colour deserve that much.” You elaborate.

Shaundi massages her temples. “We’re really going to put our entire operation in jeopardy, over makeup ?” She grumbles.

“Bitch, that ain't just makeup! It’s the start of a revolution!” Pierce objects loudly. Rocio shushes us again.

“I agree with Pierce, racial accommodation is too important to piss away. Besides, Miller doesn’t know that we don’t want to kill Hempton, we threaten both of them and he’ll squeal.” You elaborate. Kinzie looks up. “Is that the plan?” She asks, raising a brow.

“Yep. Kinzie, I want you to get as much info as you can on Miller and his partner. I’ll be going after Hempton with Pierce, Shaundi and Oleg will get Miller. And Kinzie-” “I’m your eyes, got it.” She drones.

“Oleg’s flight is arriving now.” Kinzie announces.

You give her a nod. “Okay the events start at, what, seven? So we regroup here at 5. Until then, we got free time. Kinzie, can you also find some abandoned building where we can take MI6?” Your voice is assertive, but not to the point where you’re being a dick.

“Already on it…” She utters.

You turn back to Pierce. “I need you to set up a press conference for Tuesday.” You state. Pierce stares at you in confusion. “Boss, it is Tuesday….” He reminds. Fuck, how long were you partying for? “Fuck okay, make it Thursday then.” You order. “Aay, you got it, Boss.” Pierce smiles.

Now back to the matter at hand, if you’re going to try to get MI6 subtly, you will have to look the part. And that means going on a shopping spree. When you tell the crew this, Pierce agrees, Shaundi groans, Kinzie thanks her science god that she’s not going in with you, and Rocio snores. You want to train the kid, but you’re not sure if now is the best time. You can’t fuck up an opportunity like this, so you have her watch the action with Kinzie.

After going shopping, it’s about time to get ready. Purple would be a dead giveaway as to who you are, so you all go with various colours. Pierce is in a white tux, Shaundi, a sky blue mermaid skirted gown, and you, well, you didn’t get featured in Vanity Fair for nothing.

Now there’s just the matter of getting in, which Kinzie has already ensured by getting the four of you on the list. You text Oleg about the colours thing, and sure enough, he shows up in a silk burgundy suit.

After walking inside, the four of you break. You weave in and out through the crowd.

“Kinzie, you got a visual on Miller?” You utter into your earpiece.

“He’s on the fourth floor, Hempton and what looks like her bodyguard is on the second.” Kinzie answers. “Thanks, did everyone get that?” You caution, various words of approval answer you. “Alright, let’s move.”

You meet Pierce at the elevator, Shaundi and Oleg have taken the stairs since it’s only one flight. As the two of you board, he looks at you expectantly.

“Boss,” He starts, you meet his gaze. “Don’t get any ideas, I’m not Oleg.” You jest. Pierce rolls his eyes. “Not a problem.” He comments.

“Ouch.” You retort, Pierce snorts before his face begins to fall.

“Are we going to talk about what happened in the cell?” You stiffen. “Not now.” The last thing you need is to have any of those emotions brought up here. You know Pierce is trying to help, but you can’t do this now. Now isn't the time for bonding, it is the time for fucking vengeance.

Pierce nods. He’s grown over the years. He probably would’ve kept at it, even after you dismissed it. The elevator door dings. The two of you exit.

“Kinzie?” You ask.

“Rocio’s on sniper, she’ll make sure he doesn’t escape through the windows. There are two entries to the room he’s in.” You nod at Pierce. “Take the longer one. Tell me when you’re in position.” You order. “You got it.”

“And uh…. Which way is the longer one?” He adds after taking a few steps. Kinzie groans. “Hallway on your left, take the second right, and then another right. Boss, yours is just on your right and straight ahead.”

“Thanks.” You nod at Pierce. He starts to make is way down the corridor. You inhale deeply, and pull out your underwear pistol. Slowly, you make your way to the door, pausing once you’ve reached it.

Several moments pass. “In position.” Pierce confirms. “On three.” You order.

“Three.”

The two of you burst in the room, kicking down the doors, to find Miller on his laptop in the middle of the room with half a twinkie in his mouth. He stares at you, wide eyed and utterly confused. He’s sitting on a red leather couch facing some of the paintings on the walls.

“Hands up, asswipe.” You growl, pointing your pistol at his head.

“Dude, where the fuck did you have a gun in that outfit?” Pierce exasperates. The twinkie falls out of Miller’s mouth as his hands begin to raise. “Why in god’s name are you here?” He demands, dumbfuck.

“Shut up, both of you!” You snarl. “I pulled it from my g-string.” You explain, turning to Pierce. “Damn, I thought you were just packing…” He snickers. “Didn’t realize you were looking at my groin to begin with.” You banter back, eyes still on Miller.

“Get up, remove all tech, weapons, and inspector gadget shit you have and bring your bitch ass over here.”

There’s a large crash. The three of you all look to the floor. “Well shit.” Pierce states, grabbing Miller and pressing a gun to his head as he pats him down. “Oleg is going all out, isn’t he?” You blink, still frowning. You don’t mention it in front of Matt, but it’s very possible that his partner is proving to be a difficult target. No matter, the two most tactical Saints were together on it, so it shouldn’t be a problem.

“Update.” You demand, not daring to mention Kinzie’s name in front of Miller.

“The MI6 agent was holding her own against Oleg, Shaundi threw a 60 million dollar art piece at her head, and, well, Rocio managed to shoot her in the leg. She’s not going anywhere.” You grunt. “What piece was it?” You demand.

“Boss?” Kinzie says, trying to comprehend what you’re asking. “The art piece, who made it?” You bellow. Matt and Pierce stare at you. “Uh… It was a Agostino Tassi-” You grin wildly. “Good. He was an overated, pedophilic, pretentious, asslicking, cunt, and an insult to the art community…” You snarl, interrupting her. She doesn’t really know how to respond to that.

“Okay, Boss.” She just says.

“What was that?” Pierce asks, snickering. “Shaundi destroyed an Argostino Tassi.” You explain. Pierce stares at you in surprise.

“Really? Shit, I knew our girl had taste!” He exclaims, grinning from ear to ear.

“Will the two of you buffoons stop discussing art, and get on with your kidnapping?” Miller groans.

“This buffoon has a gun to your head, so you might want to be more polite.” Pierce barks. You smirk. “Yeah, aren’t you limeys supposed to be all gentlemanly and shit?” You add, walking back out the door as Pierce follows with Miller.

“You really are a massive asshole.” He grumbles, following you into the elevator. He’s still wearing that atrocious blue tie, but the rest of his outfit has matured, him wearing a midnight blue suit, you’re thinking it’s an Esther Patterson, but you haven't had time to study it, so you’re not entirely sure. He still has the fucking collar popped up like the uncultured, mid 2000’s scene idiot he was. It was almost enough for you to take away his credit for the quality of the suit, almost.

The elevator dings, and opens to the second floor. Shaundi is carrying some chick fireman style, with Blair frozen and contracted in-between her and Oleg. It takes everything in you not to gush.

“Asha!” Miller blurts. Shaundi gives him a terrifying glare as she closes the elevator door. Miller whips his head back to you. “Let her go! Your fight is with me!” He cries desperately.

“Hell nope.” You retort, meeting his gaze. “You fucking bitch!” He screeches. Shaundi’s pupils dilate. “Fucking cock-sucking bitch! Le-” Shaundi grabs Matt by the throat and shoves him against the wall, still with who you presume to be Asha on her shoulder.

“Listen here, you little cunt.” She snarls. “You got no fucking leverage and no-fucking-one to bail you out. I suggest you shut the hell up before one of us does it for you.”

Her face gets closer to his with every word, stuck in a constant sneer. She’s holding him up with one hand. Jesus, she must really be pissed to have that much adrenalin. Miller coughs, gasping for air before Shaundi drops him.

Damn!” Pierce exclaims, looking back and forth at Miller and Shaundi. “You really mean business!” Shaundi catches his gaze, daring him to joke again. Blair begins to tear up as Matt gasps for air on the floor.

“Pierce, help him up.” You order.

“Please, I’m just a model…” Blair whines. You turn to her, eyes wide.

“Bullshit, you’re a fucking icon for anti fascism and human rights!” You snort. Shaundi rolls her eyes.

“As if we would leave you unprotected. We’re just here for these shitfucks.” You explain as the elevator dings once again. Blair stares at you in confusion.

“Sorry Miss Hempton, I didn’t expect to be hearing from the Saints anytime soon.” Miller explains, his eyes not meeting hers.

“Wait then you’re-” Blair stammers, pointing at Shaundi, Pierce, and finally you.

“Yup. Oleg, if you don’t mind…?” You begin, but he’s already on it. He gags her, places a bag over her head, and picks her up.

“You’re infatuation with the fashion industry is unsettling.” He grunts. “Hey, you’re wearing a suit by Ralph Lauren.” You say defensively.

“I, however, do not worship his models.” He retorts. You have half a mind to go off on him, but that can wait until you’re home free. Taking one of the emergency exits, you find Rocio leaning against a Bear, waiting for you.

“How the fuck did you get here?” You demand. Rocio shrugs.

“Kinzie told me to pick you guys up after I shot MI6.” You raise a brow. Miller looks at her in horror.

“Well thanks.” Your phone vibrates; Kinzie has just sent you the location of where you’ll be interrogating Miller. “You… shot Asha…?” He stammers, Rocio saunters up to him.

“In the leg.” She sneers. You pause to watch. Rocio’s stance has widened and her eyes are cold and merciless.

“But you can thank the Boss for wanting her alive…” She growls, shoving him out of the way, and taking a place at Oleg’s side.

You smirk. Pierce was right about the kid. She does have potential. “Pierce, get Miller in the back with Shaundi, Rocio, Hempton, and Anna-” “Asha!” Miller corrects. You meet his gaze, silently telling him to shut up. “Oleg, you’re manning the gun.” You order. After everyone is seated inside, you begin to drive, following the gps on your phone.

“...Can you at least make sure she doesn’t bleed out?” Miller begs, breaking the silence. You roll your eyes. “Shaundi?”

“Already done. Figured we needed the hostage alive.”

“Hostage? Why the fuck do need a hostage? You already had your filthy underwear gun at my head.”

“That was a gun?” Shaundi blurts. “That makes so much more sense…” She mutters to herself. You hold back a snicker. Pierce however, does not.

“I’m surprised didn't have bullets hidden in your ass…” Pierce snickers.

“At least Blue McFuck cooperated enough that he didn't need to be shot. It wouldn’t be the first time the Boss exploded with Kinzie watching… though they had to rush more this time though. Aww... boo , cocky  isn't a good look on you, Miller. ” She says turning to Miller.

You all freeze before the people not driving turn to glare at her. The colour drains from your face, and you look in the rear-view mirror to see that Pierce’s has done the same, and that your lieutenants are all staring at Rocio. Hempton grunts, wiggling her legs. They exchange looks, Pierce smirking as Shaundi stares straight ahead and trying not to smile.

"So... what did you and Kinzie talk about...?" You ask cautiously.

 “Did the puns not give it away? I can make some more if it'll help.”

"Uh-ah." You stutter, shrugging. Your face a bit pink. There's a couple snickers from behind you.

"I... think we're good..." You say, strained as you bob your head. For the rest of the trip, nobody says a word. After bringing the three into the basement of the abandoned crack house on the outskirts, Kinzie arrives.

“Do you even have a plan?” She demands. You scoff, clutching your chest in offense. “I think we all know that my ‘winging it’ is good enough not to need one.” You proclaim, Kinzie rolls her eyes.

“I want Oleg, Kinzie, and Rocio down here. Shaundi, you and Pierce can leave if you want.” You state, pulling a tripod from Kinzie’s gear bag and beginning to set it up. Pierce and Shaundi exchange looks.

“We’re staying.” Pierce announces. You nod at him. “Kinzie, I want this recorded. We might need to review this later.” You explain, gesturing to the tripod. Miller’s eyes light up in fear.

He is chained to a chair, facing Asha and Hempton, also chained to chairs. You lightly slap Asha awake. She grumbles, blinking in the dim light.

“Alright,” You start, turning back to Miller. “Gat didn’t die on that plane.” You state, eyes piercing into Miller’s.

He freezes, swallowing hard.

“No… he didn’t…” He breathes. You nod. Asha stirs. “Matt?” She grumbles before looking around. “Where are we? Who the hell are you?” She demands angrily.

You gesture to Miller, wanting him to explain. Hempton is still gagged and sitting silently.

“Er…” Matt starts awkwardly. “...remember how I said I had a run in with the Saints a couple years ago?” Asha’s nostrils flare before she begins to look around wildly.

“Who the hell do you think you’re fucking with?” She snarls, trying to pick out the leader.

“A bitch of an ex-gangster and hacker, with a special agent who doesn’t know how to do her job.” Kinzie states slyly. You turn your head to her. “She’s a fuckup?” You ask. Kinzie rolls her eyes.

“Well, obviously; her VIP is a model.” She snorts.

“Well then, I’m guessing that if MI6 hears of how easy it was for a celebrity street gang to capture you and your partner, your career would be the least of your problems.” You theorize, grinning as your face gradually gets closer to Asha’s.

“Leave her alone!” Miller roars. You turn back to him, cocking your head to the side.

“Alright, Miller.” You growl. “Then tell me how you failed to mention that he was alive, after I spared your punk ass.” He twitches.

“You’re not getting away with this!” Asha roars. You snap your fingers and Oleg gags her too.

“Asha calm down.” Miller reassures her. She stares in his eyes, still full of fury. Miller turns back to you.

“Please, don-”

“Answer the fucking question.” You snarl. Miller stares at you, eyes wide with fear.

“I-I...I can’t…” He blubbers. You press the barrel of the gun to his knee.

“You can, and you will .”

Asha shuffles, screaming into her gag. “Shut the fuck up or I’ll kill your VIP too!” You hiss.

Miller meets your gaze. He’s on the brink of tears. “... I can’t…” He echoes, shaking his head.

“Why not?”

Miller licks his lips. “Look,” He starts. “If it was just me that they’d kill if I talked, I’d tell you,” His voice falters. “But it’s not…”

“Who else, then?” You bark. He stares at you, blinking.

“My ex… They have my ex…” You raise a brow. “And you care this much about your ex? Enough for me to blow you?” You snarl before you pause, everyone stares at you.

“Well that came out wrong…” You state, pausing again before winking.

Miller’s eyes go wide, he looks as though he might scream. Rocio smirks.

“Does your ex have a name?” You ask. Miller swallows hard, grimacing. “Bailey Pipes.” He says quickly. You look to Kinzie.

“Yep, he’s being held in a privately owned Texas prison.” Kinzie confirms.

“Wait, he? ” Pierce asks. “People can be gay, Pierce.” Shaundi drones. “I thought Miller had girlfriend...?” Oleg ponders. Miller looks at you sheepishly.

“I’m bi.” He explains.

“Called it.” Kinzie blurts. You snort.

“Hi bi, I’m fucking pissed.” You say with a smile. “Kinzie, can you get him out?” You ask, not looking at her. She snorts. “Of course I can, but why the hell are we helping Miller ?”

You shrug at him. “We’ll get him out, and keep him safe. You gonna tell me what the fuck happened?” Miller scoffs at you.

“Like I’d believe that.” You purse your lips, looking away and bobbing your head.

Alright, let me rephrase that; Kinzie, can you put Mr Piper on death row from here?” You ask. Kinzie grins.

Hell yeah.

You turn back to Miller, raising your brows. Miller’s mouth is open and his face is twisted with astonishment and fear.

“You’re a fucking monster…” He sputters, voice faltering.

“I’m taking that as a no, Kinzie-” You start, but Miller interrupts you.

“I’ll tell you! Just don’t touch him!” He begs. You raise your hand, gesturing for Kinzie to stop, before you grab another chair and sit on it backwards, facing Miller.

“Tell me then.” You hiss, your eyebrows shooting up with your words. Miller draws a deep breath.

“Loren had him initially, and was going to send his head to you, but someone bought Gat off him. They paid a couple million from what I know.”

“And? Who bought him?” Now was not the time to get emotional. You can’t help but picture Gat in that cell again, and it takes everything in you to drive the image out of your head.

“I didn’t know the details-”

“TELL ME.” You roar, snapping. You’re in the cell again. Your breathing is short and quick. You were so close, so close to finding out who did this. Nothing will stop you. You’d take on the world if you had to.

But this time, all the fear and anxiety turn to rage. Your vision begins to blur. You need to know... you need to know who did this.

Miller stares at you, opening his mouth, unable to speak.

“I KNOW YOU LOOKED, ASSHOLE, I KNOW YOU KNOW WHO FUCKING DID THIS.” You shriek. You’re shaking again. You’ll kill something, anything. You need to know.

Pierce takes a few steps towards you. “Boss-” No, he won’t silence you like last time.

“Get away from me!” You snarl at him.

“Miller, who tortured my best friend? Who starved him? Who beat him senseless? Who…” You trail off, your voice faltering. Fuck, not now. If you let any more of your anger out, you might cry.

Miller meets your gaze, and licks his lips.

“Yeah… I did hack in; I found out…” He whimpers.

“And you know what happened when I did? She took Bailey and set him on fire right in front of me. Loren did nothing …” He continues, tears had begun to roll down his cheeks.

“Loren said I deserved it… I was seventeen, Bailey was fucking sixteen... and she burnt his arm off, right in fucking front of me… She said that if I told anyone... that she’d finish the job…” He sobs.

Your breathing slows, and all your muscles relax. You never expected this. You never expected any of this… Matt didn’t either, he was just a kid trying to live his life, much like you when you joined the Saints. It was fucking insane. You’re fucking insane, you threw a chick in the back of a car and laughed when her boyfriend crushed her.

But in that moment, you do something far more crazy. You do something so insane, so outrageous, that even you think you might need therapy.

You hug Matt fucking Miller.

First he freezes, then once the shock has settled in, he lets his head fall onto your shoulder, sobbing softly on it. Everyone else in the room has frozen too.

“You better not stain anything…” You grumble. You’re not sure how, but he chuckles in the midst of his crying. You can feel tears filling your eyes too. You blink aggressively, waiting for them to clear before leaving the embrace and bolting outside.

“What the fuck was that?” Kinzie demands, interrupting your cancer stick time. You swallow.

“Kinzie…” You start, your voice hollow.

“I have no fucking idea…” You breathe, taking another puff as you turn your head away from her.

“We’re not killing him, are we?” She growls, leaning against the siding next to you. You scoff.

“Probably not.” You pause. Miller is the only link you have to the bitch who tortured Johnny, and even he was a victim of hers. It won’t be long until she figures out he talked and goes after Bailey.

It seems you have another choice to make…

 

A.) Keep your word to Matt, even though he didn’t agree to it

B.)Do nothing; you look soft enough after hugging him and not laying a finger on him

 

 

 

Chapter Text

 

Oct/8/17: Written a bit less than 10k words so far, not including prologues. Chapters will be based solely on decisions to keep the directory as clean as possible; expect them to be long af, line breaks will be used so you know where to stop if it's 4:30 in the morning at you have work in 2 hours

Oct/12/17: Just hit 30k words, and barely begun. Probably won't be done until mid November.

Mar/13/18: Had writer's block for a bit, mostly over now. Unsure of how often I want to update and how I'm going to split up the chapters. 61k written. Still have a long ways to go. Current estimate for how many words this fic will be when finished is >300k.... also... fuck it imma update

June/8/18: Hoo boy at 73k words in my doc, holy shiiiiittttttt I've done so little in the past three monthsssss... but I did get over a fairly tough part to write so I think the next update will be quicker. Also; why the fuck did I think I could finish this by mid November lol???