Well, you guys asked for longer chapters, and I think this is the longest one yet. Get ready for some action!

And sorry for the lack of frequent updating. Algebra stuff has really been kicking my butt lately and updating has been hard. I've been getting almost 60 multi-step problems per night...it isn't fun. :\

Please enjoy the chapter and REVIEW!~


Liz's cigarette butt burned furiously in its ashtray. Her hand was supporting her cheek in boredom as she sipped a beer in the only decent bar in Steelport. The Broken Shillelagh had a distinctly Irish feel to go along with its name. The same family had owned it for years, and they had kept a consistent homey atmosphere since it had been opened. It wasn't really the kind of place you would expect to find a Saint, which was the exact reason why it was Pierce and Liz's favorite place to let loose. Nobody would ever see either of them there, and if they did, nobody had the balls to say a word about it to the cops.

Because she was there so often, Liz had developed a reasonable relationship with the bar's staff. Most of them were from across the pond and had no knowledge of her identity, making it a great way for her to meet some new people without being interrogated about her job. Although Saints' arcade games lined half of one of the walls, keeping her characteristics a secret wasn't too hard to do. Promotional deals weren't really her thing, which meant not many people knew her face too well in the first place. She left those kinds of things to Shaundi and Pierce.

She took a pack of cigarettes out of her pocket and opened it to retrieve another one. Quitting was another thing that was on her agenda; before Johnny had passed, she had started the long process. It had taken her years to realize how truly bad they were for her health and her image.

All of those thoughts seemed to melt away the moment she heard those fateful bullets collide with some part of her second in command's body. She became a full blown chain smoker after that. The nicotine was the only substance that calmed her nerves even more than alcohol.

Scowling, she put the box back in the pocket of her jeans when she realized that she was all out. Her mind wandered back to how bad her habit had become after the incident. Other than stress, she couldn't truly pinpoint the reason why she was smoking through at least a pack a day. However, deep down inside, she knew the exact reason behind the bad habit.

Johnny had done the same thing.

It was an absolutely stupid reason in her opinion, and masking the habit wasn't working anymore. Liz picked up her beer again and took a final gulp before placing it back on the bar. It had been a month since the funeral, and most of the time the many memories that she had shared with her friend had been pushed to the back of her mind. Doing crazy things to battle against the Syndicate had taken a higher priority, and grieving over Johnny was the last thing she would be able to do. Living life in the fast lane caused her deep desire for Stilwater to fade away, and it seemed like her days as a gangbanger were far behind her.

She had moved on now, but part of her couldn't help but stay burrowed in her memories of her younger days.

A young man appeared in front of her with a smile and took her empty pint. She could only figure that he was the owner's son or nephew; he had auburn hair that was just a few shades darker than her own. Light stubble danced across his chin, and his eyes were a stunning sky blue. He was undoubtedly the most handsome man in the bar, and he knew it, too. Regardless of his cockiness, he was the one who had served Liz her first drink in Steelport. Since she didn't spit it out after her first sip, she never felt the need to go to a different bar or club when she desired an alcohol fix.

Much to her disappointment, the Irishman had walked back over to her without another pint in his hand. He stretched his arms behind his head and yawned before looking at the time on his watch.

"You'd better get goin', lass." he exclaimed. His accent sounded like it could cut through steel; somehow it was capable of sounding nippy and intense at the same time. Liz felt her phone buzz and she reached for it out of her pocket while moving her head to look up at him. An amused smirk covered the lower half of his face, causing her to scowl and stand up.

"It's not even ten yet." she replied. He could tell by her tone that she was more irritated than usual.

"'M closing early tonight; one of your friends came down here and gave me an invite to yer party." He pulled an invitation out of his apron pocket and held it out to the woman. She glanced at it swiftly and didn't bother to look at the details.

Apparently, Pierce was throwing a party and she hadn't been invited.

Begrudgingly, she threw an unknown amount of money at the bartender to cover the couple of pints that she had purchased. The man took the invitation and put it back in his pocket before putting the money in the register.

"Someone's pissy tonight." he mumbled under his breath. Liz strode out of the bar and made her way back to her car to make a beeline to the Saints' HQ.


"Johnny's dead and he's throwing a fucking party!" Shaundi screamed. The Boss held her phone away from her ear to avoid getting any kind of hearing damage. Shaundi had been the one who had made her phone go off earlier. She was currently in a blind rage over the fact that Pierce was havinging a party. Liz couldn't determine why her lieutenant was still stuck on Johnny's death. It had been at least a month since he had passed, and when most Saints died, nobody even cared for more than two hours. She knew Johnny was different, and moving on was a painful thing to do, but Shaundi was beginning to get ridiculous.

For a split second, she wondered how much time the Saints would lament after her death. It was an inevitable question that she preferred not to think about.

"Are you even listening to me? Get your ass over here before I shoot his damn head off!" the other woman barked. Liz turned and pulled her car into the underground garage at their penthouse.

"Relax, Shaundi. I'm on my way up."


After sending a quick text to one of her exes, Shaundi leaned against the frame of the elevator and tightened her ponytail. She was hoping that the Boss would take her side on this one; Pierce had never asked for her permission to throw any sort of gathering. In fact, the Saints hadn't had any sort of get together since the party after the funeral. As much as it pained her to say it, Johnny's death wasn't the only reason why she didn't want Pierce throwing a party. He had been a total dick to her for the past few days, and this had sent her totally over the edge. The sound of a door opening made her turn her attention to the figure that had appeared in front of her. She watched the woman in front of her pull off her shades and stick them into the pocket of her jacket. She stepped towards Shaundi before taking the jacket off completely.

"Well, where's the party?" Liz asked sarcastically. "I don't see people."

Shaundi rolled her eyes and called down the elevator. The last thing she wanted to deal with right now was someone else's attitude.

The elevator dinged open and the two women proceeded to walk in. Their heels clacked on the marble floors in unison as they waited for the elevator door to close. Liz looked up at Shaundi and saw her anxious expression.

"You feeling alright?" she asked. The former hippie looked at her fiercely and crossed her arms.

"I'm fine." she said. "Just fucking fine. Do I look alright?"

Liz raised an eyebrow at the comment.

"You just look pretty damn anxious. You forget your pot at home or something?" she asked. She knew this would earn her a snide remark from her lieutenant, but she could care less. Shaundi's expression turned from exasperated to absolutely furious. She didn't say anything more until they arrived up at the penthouse.


Loud rap blared through the halls of the headquarters. Scantily clad women were dancing in elaborate costumes of all kinds and successfully seducing most of the male Saints. Pierce and Zimos were no exception to this.

Fervently, Shaundi strode over to Pierce and almost slapped him across the face. Liz followed behind with less haste; she was busy admiring the large party. Pierce had pulled out all the stops for this one, and she had to admit that it was pretty nice. There were strippers, a fully stocked bar, good music and everyone seemed to be having a kick ass time.

"How could Shaundi be mad at this?" she wondered. She stepped between her coworkers just in time to hear the end of a sentence.

"-I will shove that thing down your throat hole!" Shaundi yelled. It was obvious that she had no tolerance for Zimos. Liz put a hand on her shoulder to stop her from going any further.

"Calm the fuck down." she grumbled. Pierce stepped in front of both of them.

"She's right. We can't mourn Gat forever. We gotta get out of this eventually, if you know what I mean." he said calmly. Liz knew she couldn't have put it any nicer than he had. Even with Pierce's composed tone, Shaundi still wasn't convinced.

"Y'know, he's got a point." the Boss chimed in.

"Whatever." The other woman said. And, with that, Shaundi pushed past them, knocking a stripper to the floor in the process.


Pierce and Liz made their way down the stairs to the lounge area of the penthouse. Zimos followed close behind them, but he quickly got lost in the crowd once they got to the bottom.

They flopped down on the couch and Liz let out a long sigh of happiness. As much as she detested large parties, this one wasn't as bad as she had expected. It was actually turning out to be really nice.

"I'm impressed." she told him a minute later. Pierce turned and looked at her with astonishment.

"Since when did you think my parties were decent?" he asked. Liz responded with a short chuckle as a stripper approached her lieutenant. As expected, he ignored her question and dropped his pistol on the couch next to him. The grotty woman was dressed like a feminine version of Satan himself. As she gave him a lap dance, he let his head rest on the back of the couch in total ecstasy.

Liz turned her attention to a woman who had appeared next to her; this one was just as sleazy as the one that was currently all over Pierce. She wore a green cowboy getup, and her bikini barely covered any of her assets.

"You looking for a good time?" she asked promiscuously. She began to come onto Liz just like the other woman had approached Pierce. The woman had barely made it into her lap before being pushed off. The stripper's face collided with the floor, and the fall had caused her bikini top to split in half. Her face went from tan to bright red as she stood and ran off in total embarrassment.

Liz couldn't stop snickering at the woman's terrible fate. She stretched out her legs and rested them on the coffee table. She was finally beginning to relax for the first time in a long time. Taking it easy was a foreign concept to her, but when she actually tried to do it, it felt like absolute bliss.

As usual, the feelings of relaxation were short lived. She heard the click of a gun next to her, and instinctively, she felt her hand move to her own pistol in her pocket. With a harsh glare on her face, she realized where the click had came from. The stripper who had been luring Pierce now had him obliviously at gunpoint. Without even thinking, Liz lunged for the woman who was threatening her friend and slapped the gun out of her hands. The firearm hit the ground and discharged a few bullets, causing the music to stop mid verse. She looked back at the Saints leader in horror as she was punched to the ground. Her head began to bleed out profusely, and she was soon unconscious.

The crowd was screaming loudly, and Pierce jumped off the couch in shock. Before they knew it, rounds and rounds of gunfire were going off. The two gangsters took refuge behind the couch before they could see who was firing.

Liz lifted her head to look at who was causing it. She suspected that stray Syndicate bastards had weaseled their way into the penthouse, but what she saw shocked her.

Cautiously, Pierce lifted his head in alarm. All of the whores were fully armed with submachine guns and were firing into the crowd. Zimos soon joined them behind the couch.

"These ho's ain't ho's!" Pierce yelled. He could barely be heard over the rapid gunfire.

Liz knew it was time to set up a very quick game plan.


In a gunfight, sniping was probably one of Liz's favorite jobs.

They were the nearly silent killers; once you heard the loud, fateful bang of their weapon, it was too late for you. If the weapon happened to be suppressed, you knew you were totally screwed.

Liz was lying on the roof and was dangerously close to the edge of the building, which dropped at least fifty floors to the ground. Wielding a McManus and a few rounds of bullets, the snipers were left for her to take out. Although they had cleaned out the penthouse of the whores, snipers were still on the sides of nearby buildings. There were also rumors of helicopters circling the area, but now wasn't the time to worry about that.

She blew a lock of hair out of her face and looked into her scope for her target. Slowly but surely, her finger made its way to the trigger and took one of the few remaining bitches out. She repeated this same process about five more times until the remaining snipers were gone.

Pierce and Zimos soon appeared behind her. They had been returning fire downstairs and were making sure that place was truly cleaned out.

Liz stood up and kept a tight grip on her weapon.

"What kind of ho's did you hire, Pierce?" she asked. Pierce put his hands up and pointed to Zimos, who had taken a step back.

"They were my best bitches!" he said defensively. The Boss pushed past them and headed towards the stairs.

"Let's just turn on the goddamn power." she mumbled. Zimos gave Pierce a look, to which he replied with a questionable shrug.

"Just follow her. She's got her shit in line." he said.


Liz skipped multiple steps to get down to the maintenance floor of the penthouse. It was pitch black with the exception of a few blinking red emergency lights. She felt herself bump into Zimos, Pierce, and many objects on her way over to the power switch. The alcohol was finally starting to get to her system.

With the flick of a switch, lights came on and music could be heard blaring upstairs again. Just as she turned to go back upstairs, her phone rang again. She checked the ID to make sure it wasn't Shaundi, and was happy to figure out that it was Oleg.

"Oleg, I'm kinda busy-"

The large man cut her off.

"The party's a trap, the ho's are fully armed. I suggest you cancel it before it starts." he said. Liz rubbed her forehead and sighed.

"I kind of figured that out a while ago!" she replied. Oleg chuckled on the other line.

"Good, I knew a few helicopters wouldn't stop the Saints."

Liz froze.

"Helicopters?" she asked. Promptly, she hung up and ran for the stairs.

"What did he say?" Pierce asked. Liz turned to him with a grim look on her face.

"Helicopters outside." she said. "Get the RPGs."


Morningstar helicopters had been bombarding the headquarters for twenty minutes before Liz could shoot them down. They were faster than she had expected, causing her aim to be terribly off. Their speed combined with her intoxication didn't mix well at all.

The damage to the building hasn't been too terrible, but it was still considerable enough to call for repairs. Furniture was scoured everywhere, and countless spilled drinks had stained couches and carpets.

When the deed had been done and all Morningstar were gone, Liz walked back inside along with Zimos. Pierce had gone to his own office to start calling for repairmen to come in the next day.

"Well, that was quite a night, wasn't it?" he asked. Liz walked towards the staircase and began to ascend to her room. She really needed a good night sleep after all of this, even if it was already three AM.

"I guess you could say that." she answered. Yawning, she opened the door to her room and stumbled inside.