As Gat exited the elevator and began striding down the corridor, he heard the tiniest crunching sound coming from the wall on his left side. No, not the wall. Behind the purple covered door. The rest of his senses faded away, as he focused on the source. He swore he could hear the sounds of breathing. The hair on the back of his neck prickled, as in one swift motion, he grabbed the knob and yanked the door open. His brows rose, registering shock. He recalled the face, but not the name. "Amy?" He asked, trying to jog his memory. The sultry young stripper smirked as she leaned against the door frame, her golden leather bra displaying her ample breaks to great affect. "Honey, my name is anything you want it to be." She replied with a broad grin, tightly tapping his nose with her long manicured fingers. She barged her way in, hands on her hips, as her eyes surveyed the grand white walls and soft lighting. She looked mildly impressed. "This place finally looks habitable." She commented. Gat arched an eyebrow. He remembered this stripper visiting the crib a few times on call – mostly due to Carlos being soft on her. Amber, that was it. Gat wondered if perhaps the two had been involved or something but shrugged it off. It didn't matter – the dude was dead, and this chick hardly seemed particularly fazed by that fact, so it seemed unlikely.

She turned to face him, expectant. Gat merely shrugged. "What d'you want?" He asked, folding his arms across his chest. "The Boss." She replied, bluntly. Gat shifted, eyes narrowed – perhaps she wanted in on the prostitution racket, but if that were the case, then all she had to do was go find a pimp recruiting hoes. It wasn't particularly hard; and as far as Gat knew, the Boss wasn't pimping on the side. Regardless, he felt his defensiveness of the Saints kick in, as he scrutinized her. Finally, he decided to be equally as blunt as her. "She's out." He replied, voice scathing. He swept past her. Amber rolled her eyes, turning to follow him.

"Enough of the macho bullcrap." She hissed as she caught up with him and his large gait. He turned to face her, and she flinched, but continued."There's something she needs to know." Gat paused mid-step, arching an eyebrow at the girl. Her expression was composed, deadly serious. It was a little disarming to see that kind of determination in a stripper – it was more common to see their eyes glazed over with lust, as their bodies contorted around poles, and their full breasts jiggled about as they walked by. Then it occurred to him. Perhaps it was the Boss she was involved with? He swallowed, uncertain how to respond – he had know idea that the Boss was a lesbian, but then again, it wasn't any of his business. Normally he found girl on girl action pretty hot, but oddly he felt indifferent this time. Probably because it was the Boss involved, and for the most part, he'd assumed that she was asexual.

Regardless, now was not a good time for any wind-swept confessions of twu wub. Presumably if the two were so close, Amber could easily just call her up rather than waste her time coming here to talk. Perhaps Gat felt a small flicker of resentment towards Amber – however he had his reasons. If experience was anything to go by, hoes like her were infamous for being goldiggers; he simply didn't want the Boss to drain all sorts of unnecessary expenses into one selfish hoe, when they had other plans. Even though it seemed redundant, he couldn't help but feel protective of her, despite her no-nonsense brutality. Shit, she'd already proven that she'd had to save him more often, a fact that he struggled to come to terms with. He was a fighter, not a damsel.

Amber shook her head and brushed past him, delicately trotting down the steps. Pierce glanced up and beamed a smile at her. "Damn, girl. It's been a long time." He said, eying her. Amber pursed her lips, giving him a suggestive leer. "You must be starved of company." She purred, striking the famous Marilyn Monroe pose before settling on the armrest beside him. Gat snorted, wary that his earlier suspicions were being confirmed. He watched from the balcony, running his fingers along the blade of his favorite hunting knife. He distantly heard the ding of the elevator, and the familiar shuffle of Shaundi's sneakers. She yawned as she rounded the corner, scratching at her bandanna. She sidled up beside him, clutching a cup of coffee in one hand.

She caught a glimpse of his steely expression, offering him a sip. He declined, eyes focused on his knife. She sighed. "It's gunna be hard getting up this early to do drop-offs." She shrugged, holding up her cappuccino. "Praise the genius that invented coffee." She added, taking a slurp. Gat snorted again, eyes averted.

"You'll do fine. Besides, it's not exactly hard bossing Pierce about." He replied. Shaundi giggled.

"Aw, c'mon. That's a little harsh." She paused, her smile twitched a little. "I dunno what I'd do without you guys, y'know?" She added, tilting her head at him, her voice soft. She could feel a lump forming in her throat. The memory of her creepy-ass ex coming and trying to kill her was still fresh in her mind, and no matter her drinking, smoking, or fucking, nothing would eradicate that memory. Gradually it had faded, but sometimes the thought would spring to the foreground with such force that it'd briefly knock the air from her lungs, stunning her with the revelation that if she wasn't careful, she could end up dead by the hands of a boyfriend. That terrifying, humiliating fate caused bitter tears to bead in her eyes; surely, Veteran Child was just an exception. He was an asshole, after all, even before she'd join the Saints.

She noticed how no one other than the Boss had confronted her about that. And even then, the Boss had only really mentioned how much of a no-good dickhead Veteran Child was. A fact that Shaundi was already aware of, seeing as she'd initially dumped him. Although it had gotten her thinking – like, how many of her exes had been a bunch of manipulative assholes like him? She didn't like thinking like that – she mostly tried to shove out those memories and repress the less pleasant highlights of her past. She reckoned a lot of the Saints had their own baggage, and even if she wasn't above talking about it, she thought it best not to pry. In Gat's case, it seemed obvious what would be on his mind. Not that anyone had the balls to question him about it.

Shaundi shrugged off her dark mood, following Gat's gaze where it was fixed on Pierce and the stripper. Shaundi smiled as Pierce tried haplessly to flirt with the young stripper, trying to persuade her to give him a lapdance. She kept reiterating that she was off-duty, as the two mumbled and giggled, whispering all sorts of things. Even if he was a little uptight sometimes, she had to admit that he had some style, and was probably the most sensitive lieutenant around, with his occasional goofball mannerisms. One thing was certain – he was fiercely protective of the ladies, whether they be strippers or soccer moms. Alot suspected it was so he could woo or impress them, but Shaundi reckoned it was something else. Maybe he came from a large family of females. Or maybe he just liked being the valiant knight in shining armor. She grinned: he certainly has the bling to pull it off, she thought.

She blinked, gulping down the last of her coffee, watching as Gat's shoulders seemed to tense. She wet her lips, about to ask what was wrong, when he spoke up. "I don't trust that bitch." He said, voice low.

"Which one?" She asked, amused. He nodded at Amber.

"The stripper. I think she's trying to be the next Luz." He growled. Shaundi arched an eyebrow, uncertain whom he was talking about. Shaundi'd heard of a fancy drug-trafficking Spanish lady with that name, but knew very little about her history or how Gat knew her. Gat sheathed his knife, then thrust a bundle of dollars at her. "Get her out of here. Go to the museum, go skydiving, take her to Disneyland, I don't care. Just get her away from here." Shaundi stared at the money, a clusterfuck of hundred dollar bills. There must've been about five thousand there – surely that'd just be enough to pay her off, or hire someone to put a hit out on the girl. Perhaps that was Gat's intention – why he didn't just kill her, she was uncertain. Shaundi gulped, looking back and forth between Gat and the stripper.

Instead, Shaundi pocketed the money and managed to tear Amber away from her intense conversation with Pierce, long enough to escort her from the building. Once they were in the elevator, Amber looked up and said; "Listen, hon. I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable back there." Shaundi couldn't contain her laughter.

"Woah, you are way off base, girl. I wasn't jealous at all." Shaundi replied, wiping a tear of bliss from her eye. She paused and smiled to herself. "Look, I'll be honest. Gat just wanted you out. I guess he didn't like seeing you all over his homie." Shaundi confessed. Amber snorted.

"You make it sound like they're butt-buddies." The two girls burst into a fit of giggles, as the elevator pinged open.

Amber clutched Shaundi's elbow. "Hey, just because those two want some alone time to cry into their Haagan Daz, doesn't mean we can't go have some fun of our own." She added, tilting her head innocently. Shaundi grinned. "Y'know, that sounds like just what I need." She sighed, stretching out the kinks in her back. They strode across the parking lot to where Shaundi's red minivan was parked, and soon the two were swerving through the early noon traffic, parked outside one of Shaundi's favorite places – the gym. Amber stuck out her lower lip, her hands on her hips as she examined the small, bare-bones building to the gym, Pump That. She smirked at Shaundi. "Y'know, you have a very interesting definition of fun." She replied. Shaundi chuckled, tugging out her gym bag from the trunk.

"Believe me, you'll feel great after a Zumba class." She replied, giddy with excitement as the two breezed through the reception. Amber nodded, as she glanced around at the main gym floor, her eyes catching the glimpse of one of the door labels. She paused mid-step; "Mhmm, and if all else fails, we could always have a pamper session in the sauna." Amber said. Shaundi stopped beside her, her mouth hanging open. "Oooo, you read my mind." Shaundi added, before they continued their walk to the changing rooms.

Thankfully, Shaundi had a spare pair of track shorts that fit quite snugly around Amber's wide hips, and conveniently, she was already dressed in a form-fitting sports bra. Shaundi threw on a grubby white tank, and a pair of loose cargo shorts. Bright purple, naturally. The girls then trooped over to Studio One, where a mixed group of people from all ages and all different races all clustered about the room, awaiting for the class to begin.

Amber was abit nervous, skin prickling with apprehension as some of the older women there stared at them. She was used to seeing a swarm of lust-filled male faces on a regular basis, but some of the sneering seniors were putting her on edge. Shaundi kept reassuring her that she'd love it, that it was just the thing she'd need to take her mind off things, to relax her, to make her feel good, blah blah. In all honesty, Amber wasn't the most active of people. Sure, she had a high stamina. Necessary for night after night of twirling on poles and grinding on others, but it was rare that she ever gyrated her hips or shook her knockers simply for the fun of it. And accompanied by some of her favorite Latin-American music, she quickly found herself being swept away by the liberating feel, as the class twirled, jiggled, jumped, sashayed, and anything short of doing the can-can. It was outrageous, and over-the-top and utterly exhilarating. Her and Shaundi would keep sneaking glances, giggling as Amber missed a step, causing Shaundi to miss one, too. They were thankful they were in the back row, otherwise they would've disrupted the whole session with their chatter.

The single hour passed by in what felt like no time, and Amber felt abit cheated. But she was in too good a mood to let it bother her, her skin covered in a thin sheen of sweat, as her and Shaundi each took a sip of lukewarm water from one of the bottles stashed in her gym bag. A bouncy-looking grey-haired lady tottered over to the two of them, her armbands thick with sweat. She asked for a drop of the water and Shaundi complied. "It's so lovely to see a new lady." The woman said, extending her hand towards Amber, whom shook it hesitantly. She wondered if this woman would be equally as friendly to know that Amber got paid to dance in a far more provocative manner than that. Nevertheless, she smiled, nodding towards Shaundi. "I asked her to have some girly fun and she drags me here." The three of them chuckled. The lady returned her smile. "I wish they'd had classes like this sort when I was your age. These bones may creak, but it wont stop this old crow from livin' it up. Gotta get exercise in somehow." She added. Shaundi took this as a moment to gush about the many different types of exercise, water resistance, band resistance, interval training, yoga, etc, which the older lady proceeded to gush right back in response. Amber let it wash over her, before catching a glimpse of a familiar voice. It was unmistakable. A velvety-smooth Spanish voice. The very same person she'd come to speak to the Boss about – whom she'd come to warn the Boss about.

Even as the room emptied, she suddenly felt claustrophobic, her lungs fighting for breathe. It worried her, as she recalled what the woman had been asking about – asking after the Loa Dust. Perhaps she was just hearing things, being paranoid, a side affect from the brief burst of adrenalin, she supposed. Whether she imagined it or not, Amber was suddenly overwhelmed with the urge to leave swiftly with Shaundi. She'd have to pass the message onto Shaundi instead; Amber just could not risk being seen with the Saints until this possible threat was extinguished. Desperate as it was, Amber would have to trust the surly fun-loving pot-head with serious news. And despite knowing so little about the girl, Amber felt a small flicker of comfort in having someone else she could trust in this world.

Amber made a snap decision and began ushering Shaundi and the lady to the door, where they found the corridor empty except for one person. Shaundi's mouth nearly fell open, again. "Tom?" She gaped. The shifty, impeccably dressed car salesman looked equally shocked, nearly choking on his bagel as their eyes met. The old lady put a hand to her lips to conceal her giggles. "Oh Tommy, you didn't tell me you had a girlfriend here already." Shaundi and Tom both exchanged wide-eyed looks, as his grandmother reached forth and began patting his back until he was able to swallow his mouthful properly. "Just to clarify, ma'am, I have never dated your... Tommy." She replied, amused as Tom's cheeks flushed bright red. The moment was fleeting, as he quickly recovered his composure, clearing his throat, he added. "Exactly as she said. We just keep seeming to run into each other." He said, casting a brief glance at Shaundi.

Both the grandmother and Amber felt like snapping their fingers in front of their respective parties, in an attempt to bring them out of their own little world. To them, it was obvious. The two love birds had some kind of crazy chemistry, that they were hesitant to explore. Except the grandmother was keen to nurture it, and Amber was much more concerned with getting the fuck out of this building. The grandmother drifted towards Tom's arm, handing him her door keys, whilst Amber lunged for Shaundi's arm and began storming down the hallways, past the gym floor, and out through the reception.