D/C: Despite months of trying … I still don't own any of the QAF characters or places etc. Please don't sue … at least not until I get my student loan.

D/C 2: The title is taken from my favourite song of right this second 'Fire off Your Guns' by Buckcherry.

PROLONGED A/N: It's been suuuuuuuuuch a long time since I last wrote fan fiction, so this is pretty nerve-wracking but I just felt like there were more adventures for these AU-characters to go on. Sorry if my QAF writing style seems a little rusty, the gang have been out of my head for a long time now, hopefully I'll improve as the story goes on.

Unfortunately, I don't think this will make any sense at all unless you read it's prequel 'BROKEN GLASS AND CIGARETTES' but just as a quick recap as to the situation right now….

Michael is in prison serving a severely shortened sentence for the crimes he committed whilst with the gang. He has decided he wants to leave the gang lifestyle after his sentence is finished and start a life with Ben and Hunter, who is living with Ben in their house.

Brian, Ted and Emmett are living in separate houses in Madagascar and have been told by Detective Horvath that if they set foot on US soil again, they will be arrested. Justin opted to live with Brian, leaving his mother and sister behind. His father wants nothing to do with any of them.

Anyway, think of this as a little preview of what's to come….


"Hey Novotny get up!" An angry, hoarse voice broke through the blackness of Michael's cell. He couldn't pinpoint which officer it was, they all pretty much sounded the same, especially when they were doing something official.

"Hey!" The voice came again, louder this time and accompanied by bashing on his cell door. "I said get up … now!"

"Knock it off," a voice from the cell next door shouted but the officer just told him to 'shut the fuck up' before yelling for Michael again and making even more noise.

Michael was sat up now but he was still rubbing his eyes, trying to make out some shapes on the floor before he jumped off the top bunk. He could never know when Sledger, his cell mate, had left his stuff and he had a horrible habit of peeing in the night and missing the bowl. Michael strained his eyes, just as the officer yelled again and Sledger hissed,

"I swear to God cocksucker, you leave now or I'll stab you myself."

Suddenly, a puddle of piss on the floor didn't seem so threatening and he jumped down and went straight to the door.

"What is it officer?" He asked groggily, sheilding his eyes against the officer's flashlight.

"You're being moved, Novotny," the man said, opening the door and slapping some handcuffs on him.

"To where?"

"Somewhere else…." The man growled, shutting the door and dragging Michael my the cuffs, causing him to stumble backwards.

"Another cell?" Michael asked. It was only now that the tiredness was slipping away and he realised how weird this situation was. They never moved prisoners in the dead of night like this.

"Shut up," the officer growled.

"Another wing?"

"I warned you to shut the fuck up."

"But don't I have a right to…."

But the man would never know what Michael thought he had a right to, because he'd taken the flashlight and smacked the prisoner around the head with it, sending him into complete blackness.

"I warned you," the man muttered, hoisted the limp, unconscious body onto his shoulder and carrying him to the van.

"That him?" A man with a heavy accent asked.

"No," the first guy scorned, "I just thought I'd get a different guy."

"Sounds like a thing you would do."

"Will you just shut the fuck up and drive before anyone notices."


More soon...

Thanks for reading! xx