There ain't no rest for the wicked,
Money don't grow on trees,
I got bills to pay,
I got mouths to feed,
There ain't nothing in this world for free.
And no I can't slow down,
I can't hold back,
Though you know, I wish, O could.
Oh no there ain't no rest for the wicked, until we close our eyes for good.

Ain't No Rest For The Wicked - Cage the Elephant.

"Well good-fucking-going Einstein! You know how long it took me to upgrade the hydraulics on that thing? My eyebrows are still growing back." The female engineer seethed, strutting around the garage, hands rubbing her face more times than healthy.

"Hey! Those Decker assholes ran into me! The place is infested with those dicks. And I did those eyebrows a favour."

The brunette tried to justify her actions, but it wasn't working, and her joking only earned an intense glare.

"Yeah, and the car just magically looked like it got gang-banged by megatron. NO NORMAL CAR CRASH DOES THAT RAMONA."

Ramona rolled her eyes at her sisters unnecessary raging and walked over to where her desks were situated. Pens, paper, books and logs scattered around the place. Eager to see what was happening on the old internet, she quickly began tapping at the keys, ignoring her sisters cursing and cussing as she began to assess the damage that had been caused.

It was totally not my fault. Those bastards just swerved and rammed straight into me. It wasn't like I even did anything. I was picking up some components that my sister requested. Turn a corner, and those knobs suddenly started playing bump-a-cars. Admittedly, they did try to pull her over, and her car did magically lose control a few times, but I wasn't getting kidnapped by any man.

"Hey Faith, did you hear the Saints are in Steelport?"

There was a loud clank as Ramona peered over her many computer screens to see her sister bang her head on the bottom of the car, and try her best too scramble from under it.

"No shit? Really?"

For once Faith wasn't sarcastic, and actually interested.

"Yeah, stuffs all over the news. Apparently all gangs are after them."

Her sisters eyebrows furrowed together and she could see the cogs working in her brain.

"You stupid fool! Why do you think they tried to kill you? The cars purple so they thought you were a saint!"

"Aw. And here I thought they were just attracted to me."

Faith face palmed and sighed heavily, before climbing back under the car with her many tools and cursing to herself, which had quickly became a habit as soon as Ramona had moved in.

Ramona turned her rock music on, blaring loudly as the aggravating sound of spanner hitting car began to ring through her ears. Faith always told her the sound was relaxing, though she had still yet to see Faith relaxed. She worked almost day and night, working on cars and trucks, and if she wasn't doing that she was tampering with guns. Ever since Dad died, she hardly ever left the place.

Ramona was so deep in concentration, that she didn't even hear the music cut out. She didn't even know she had visitors until she heard someone bang loudly on the car with their fist.

"Ramona. Piss off."

Faith hissed from under the car, still tampering around with metal.

"Faith, that wasn't me."

Ramona barely got the sentence out, as she stared across the room, to find several blue-coated Decker's, standing at the entrance, armed.

"If its Tyrone, tell him to go fuck himself. God knows I won't."

Came another muffled reply. She looked at their faces, and they didn't even look the slightest bit amused. In fact, they looked pretty pissed.

"No, girl. Their more… blue."

There was a short silence, before a mass of clambering around and sound of metal hitting floor, with a large helping of the word 'shit'.

Once Faith stood up, she brushed herself off and tried to gain her composure, clearing her throat, she spoke in her usual steely tone.

"Something you need?"

It was in a more threatening tone than she would have liked, but it normally came out like that.

"Boss wants to speak to you."

"And if we don't want to speak to him?"

Faith half growled, grumpy that someone had interrupted her usual relaxing hobby/obsession.

There was no reply, as the Decker's withdrew their weapons, not taking their eyes off of Faith.

"And I thought you were just happy to see me."

Ramona chimed in, soon regretting as soon her sister and the Decker's glared at her.

The speaker used his gun to signal them to get out, and they reluctantly complied.

As they stepped outside, Faith began scratching the back of her neck, like she always did when she was nervous. She always felt nervous as soon as she stepped outside, like the sky was going to swallow her up or something. Ramona always knew it was Agoraphobia, fear of the outdoors, but she knew Faith would deny it, in an attempt of trying to be the strong one.

They were forced to get in the backseat of a typical Decker's truck, and the journey for what was minutes, seemed like hours in silence, and Faith even tampered with the thought of nutting one of them and getting the fuck out, but Faith probably had no clue where she was.

When the truck came to an abrupt stop, they were signalled to get out, and once again they complied, with Faith muttering something along the lines of "arseholes."

They looked up to see the tallest skyscraper they had probably ever seen, and when Ramona looked over to Faith, she could swear she saw her normally tanned skin turn a little green.

When they entered the lobby, they were instantly greeted with an unnecessary amount of blue, which made their head spin. The lobby was massive, a semi-large desk in the middle and loads of computer screens and other weird ass looking machinery.

Ramona looked dazed, loving the amount of technology, always sharing a love for it ever since she was little. She had heard of the Decker's, and had even contemplated joining them, but after father had died, she knew Faith would hate her for the rest of her days, and changed her mind, choosing to join her sister at Rim Jobs.

After spending a little too long dazing, they were pushed into an elevator and watched as the speaker clicked the button for top floor. Once they reached the top, they stepped out, once again seeing an unnecessary amount of blue, which was really starting to grate on Faiths' nerves. Looking up, they saw probably the hugest chair, Faith had ever seen, and sitting on it was a boy, probably no older than 16. As soon as he eyed us, he spoke.

"So you two are the ones that have caused me so much trouble."

Faith continued to look unimpressed, and merely crossed her arms and glared at him.

"Define trouble."

"Trying to hack into my database, working for the Saints and ramming into our vehicles are the first ones to spring to mind."

He said, English accent seeping through.

"Well, you cars are shit, and were not working for the saints."

Faith retorted, wanting to just get the hell out, and more than likely not going the right way about it. AGAIN.

This is what happens when I go out. I piss people off, hurt them, and then get the hell out.

"And my database? You really think I wouldn't notice my files being searched? What kind of idiot do you take me for?"

"I would have called you an idiot, but that would have been an insult for all the stupid people."

Ramona chimed in once again smirking, and Millers attention quickly switched from Faith to her.

"Well I've obviously found the brains of the operation. Particular reason why you would want to know what I've been doing in this chair?"

Faiths mind immediately went to the gutter, obviously not knowing what the chair was, and had to cough to hide her laugh.

"Who wouldn't? I've heard some pretty radical shit about those chairs, didn't think there were any."

Miller seemed to smirk and rose from the chair, and started to walk towards them.

"Well I'm just full of surprises. And so are you, by the looks, you friend doesn't exactly look like someone who values brains."

"Bitch-"

Faith took a rather intimidating step forward, fist clenched, only to be restrained by her sister, as Miller seemed to almost jump back in fright.

To be honest, he did have a point; Faith had rather broad shoulders, defined muscles and wore a black tank top with dark green cargos tucked into army-type boots. And if that wasn't enough, she had more tattoos than most, mainly consisting of Brotherhood type designs; tribal.

Faith shot a glare at her sister than back to Miller, once he gained his composure and went back to sit on that chair.

"She's my sister, Faith, and I'm Ramona. Now, you surely didn't just bring us here to kill us. You would have done so already. So, why are we here?"

"Your brains know no bounds. Indeed. Those files you hacked were indeed difficult to. How you did it I don't know, and is probably the only reason you're both alive. I'm also led to believe that your sister is most handy with a wrench-"

"Best fucking mechanic in Steelport. Made sure of it."

"Excellent! Consider yourselves honorary Decker's. Oh, and you'll find your uniforms on the way out."

The sisters were just walking the other way, when Faith came to a halt and stared across her shoulder.

"Something wrong with what we're wearing?"

It wasn't so much a question, more of a challenge, daring him to say something to cross her, just to give her an opportunity to hurt him.

"Many things, but the colour for one. I think you might actually like your new outfits. And don't show us up, I've heard many good things, but I'm still yet to be impressed. Cheers!"

By then, the elevator had shut, and Faith had to settle for punching the metal doors, leaving a nice indentation in them.

"I thought we'd never join!"

Ramona almost sighed in relief, proud smile splashed across her face.

Faiths fist resting against the door, she slowly turned her head to wear Ramona was standing, brows almost stitched together, as once again she was deep in thought.

"You BITCH! You knew you'd join if you hacked the system! I knew I should have been more curious when you started jumping for joy that day!"

Faith barked. She glared at her for a bit, and then sighed, heavily.

"Well, if it's good for business, I suppose I'll have to grit my teeth and bear it."

"Knew you'd come around."

"Don't talk to me."

"You love me."

"You're dead to me."

A/N: Happy New Year and all that crap. Really should be updating my other stories, but got Saints Row 3 for christmas, and this idea will not leave me alone. With help from my close friend, we managed to come up with the idea of Faith and Ramona, the Wolff twins. Strong language. Updates will depend on the amount of attention this gets.

Disclaimer: I own nothing but the idea, Faith and Ramona.