The Gat Conundrum

It was obvious.

So, so, painfully fucking obvious. It was like she had a big sign on her forehead whirring in neon saying 'Johnny Johnny Johnny'

Hell, when she'd first thought Johnny was alive and somewhere out there in Zinyak land she'd practically blown a fuse she'd thrown herself into the simulation so fast to find him on that stupid fucking plane.

It had been Shandi, which was good. But it hadn't been Gat, which was bad.

She'd kept how she was feeling about it all damn quiet, but when she'd walked into that room and seen Johnny dead in the chair it had gutted her. She hadn't been able to comfort Shandi at all, too caught up in the way her breath was pulled out of her lungs and her heart stopped beating for a spilt second.

She'd known for a very long time about her…feelings…(bleh) for the legendary Jonny Gat, but she'd kept them on the very down, down, down low out of respect first for his relationship with Aisha, and then for her death.

She'd considered it a crush at first, just an animal attraction to his broad shoulders, nice ass and big…hands…hmmm.

Then the son of a bitch had gone and died on her.

She'd done what she always did, kept going, pushed any sorrow that lingered down and blown some shit up to make herself feel better. But she couldn't ever get past the stinging thought that hit every time she took a moment to pause and evaluate.

'Damn Johnny would have loved this.'

So she kept blowing things up, until eventually she managed to fall (literally) into the job of running the god damn country, and never once had she spoken a word to anyone about how she felt not to have her best friend by her side in all of it. Never once did she allow herself to admit that it wasn't a crush, it never had been.

She loved that tough motherfucker.

And then, a bunch of missions and an awesome doom walk in a giant robot later she was standing in front of him again. Standing in front of Johnny Gat.

Her Johnny Gat.

And all she wanted to do was throw herself at him and turn into a screaming Johnny Gat fan. But that was a fucking pussy move, and there were aliens everywhere, and she'd be damned if she didn't get to fuck the Zin empire up with her right hand man because she got all sentimental about something as stupid as him not being dead.

So they'd bro hugged, and she'd tried to ignore how naked and shiny he was as they killed their way back to the ship and Johnny gave the run down on how he was so awesome that the overlord duchebag of douchbaggery had believed he could take down the Zin empire single handed.

So awesome!

Sure, that meant she wasn't as high on the hit list of the supposed ruler of the universe, but hell, if there was going to be anyone on top of her it was going to be Gat.

Wait…that didn't come out right. Shit. But, well, you know. Whatever.

From then on The Boss, the President of the United States and the top dog of the Saints had been having a hard time keeping her 15 year old hormones under wraps. Every time Johnny was around her brain did a little short circuit and all she managed to come out with was:

"Sure Johnny." Or "Hell yeah, you got it Johnny"

Then there had been the whole Genki affair, running through the fields of demented mascots putting bullets in heads like old times and she'd managed to get out that it wasn't just Shandi that had been fucked over by Gat dying. She didn't go as far as to say she'd been messed up over it too but she was pretty sure he got the message.

It had really only been a matter of time before she'd cracked completely and lost her head enough to admit to him she kinda…maybe…wanted to…

Well…do things with him.

Not just sexy things. Mission things, badass things, being together-y type things.

Which is how she came to find herself here.

Looking at him.

Yep.

Fuck

He'd been going somewhere too, strolling along, big ass knife in hand when she'd just ended up standing in front of him like a fucking stop sign not saying anything.

"Hey boss…"

Bam! The words started running out of her mouth, cutting him off like a bullet interrupting someone's face and suddenly they weren't stopping. It was fortuitous (fortuitous…ha, big word) she'd been working out what to say otherwise she was pretty sure she'd just be repeating fuckmotherfuckershitcuntmonstertruckbitch until he slapped some sense into her.

"Just shut up, I have to tell you something."

He raised and eyebrow. The Boss thought this was a good start.

"For years I thought you were dead, and I blamed myself for it. When you were gone there was a hole in my life that I tried to fill with anything I could find. Partying, Sex, revenge. Sometimes a weird combination of the three."

She took a pause here to remember good times with a slight satisfied smirk. Ahhh, so many pointy heels and chocolate sauce bottles, so many lives ruined.

Johnny chuckled and crossed his arms, obviously not realising where this was heading.

The Boss had planned to give her speech and leave. It had taken a serious amount of liquid courage and bitch slapping herself to come out and say this shit to a man who was probably going to punch her at the end of it.

But on a serious note she'd done it because she owed it to herself to say what she'd wanted to get out since his damn funeral. That and the big fucking Neon Johnny sign on her head was starting to weigh her down.

"But nothing worked…nothing ever made me feel alive like you did. And I always thought it was just because I was depressed but seeing you now has made me realise how much I need you."

Did that sound like she was pleading? It kinda sounded like she was pleading.

Double Fuck

Too bad she was on a roll now and not stopping to evaluate her life choices. Though, if she was honest (which she rarely was) she stopped evaluating life choices around the time she beat a cop to death with a giant purple dildo.

Your conscious and sanity just couldn't really come back from that in one piece without a sense of humour.

But anyway. She was confessing something here…focusing.

"I'm not Aisha, and I'm not trying to be…" She'd been looking away when this came out, knowing this was probably the bit where he would break her jaw, what she got instead made her head spin. "But if…"

Johnny stepped forward, wrapped her up in his arms and kissed her.

It was the hottest, sweetest, most fucking awesome kiss The Boss had ever had.

It was better than random acts of violence, better than revenge, better than finding a new fully automatic submachine gun under the Christmas tree.

He eased off after a jaw slackening, gravity defying, world-blowing-up minute; pulling back but keeping her close enough that she could feel ever muscle in his body twitching.

"You wanna tell me how long you've been workin' on that speech Boss?" He asked her with a smirk.

She contemplated.

"A few years, give or take your death."

He was still smirking. She'd punch that damn smirk off his damn face. Except lucky for him she liked his damn smirk. Smirky smirk face Johnny was just a lot sexy.

"You wanna finish it back in your cabin?"

That was a good plan. So he was sexy, and good at making plans.

"Yes. Yes I really do."

Authors Note: Don't ask. I don't know. I really don't. It just…well…its out there now and…hmmm. Anyway. If its worth anything let me know, I don't know where it even came from…Just some late night plot bunnies. The Boss' insanity is catching obviously. If the mood strikes me I might clean it up. Until then, Crazy Out.