Got a prompt that begged to be the start of a longer piece, so I wrote out this beginning to get the setup down just in case more parts could be added later. Takes place between SR2 and 3, and the prompt itself was the very first sentence!

Finding the Chief of Police bound and gagged in the trunk of her car was not the way V had expected to start her day.

No, she had planned on going down to grab an early post-hangover breakfast at Freckle Bitch's, possibly after dragging Johnny's ass along with her, and had left the Halberd outside because she didn't give a fuck to store it properly. It was going to be another day spent trying to stay two steps ahead of the local media blitz.

Now she was wondering if Troy had even been left breathing.

She reached out to him, her heart hammering in her chest, and yanked down the gag. Then her fingers went for his pulse. It was beating steadily, and it made her gasp in relief. "Oh, Jesus. Thank you, thank you..." He shifted slightly, and she ran a hand gently through his hair. "Troy?"

"...V?"

He slowly opened his eyes, and she quickly got to work on untying his wrists and ankles. His uniform was still on, likely left from the night before, and she noted the large, dark bruise forming on his temple.

"Oh, fuck. I hate Mondays," he muttered as she helped him slowly sit up.

"It's Tuesday, Troy," she told him as she rested her hands on his shoulders, and he blinked back at her unsteadily.

He groaned and put a hand over his eyes. "Well, I hate Tuesdays too. They're piss-poor Mondays."

She wanted to grab him and hold him, but couldn't stop shaking. Instead she reminded herself that he was injured and medical attention would probably be a very good idea right now. Digging her phone out, she searched for their personal doctor to keep any attention down and checked Troy over while she waited for her to pick up.

"Hello?"

"You need to get the fuck over the Saints HQ right now, doc. Serious business."

Troy watched her make the call, slowly gaining awareness back, and she put a hand on his cheek as Dr. Allen cleared her throat. "Ms. V, is this serious in terms of what happened back around the 4th of July, or serious in terms of-"

"Get over here. Please."

The shuffling that had been going on in the background stopped. "...I see. I'll be there shortly."

She hung up and V sighed. "You can't walk, can you?"

"I can try," Troy said, the corner of his mouth curving up. "Things are swimming a bit, but it's the fucking headache that's killing me."

"God, I don't know if I even want to try to get you upstairs." She ran through a list of ideas, and threw her hands up when only one seemed to make sense. "Fuck it." She dialed the number and let it ring.

"Shit, V. The fuck are you calling me for? You're a few rooms down," Gat mumbled, still half-asleep.

"Johnny, someone left Troy in the back of my car. I need you to get out here and help me get him inside."

"What? He still breathing?"

"Yes," she told him, and her voice wavered.

He was silent on the other end for a minute, but she heard him start to move around. "Be there in five."

Johnny took one look at Troy and shook his head. "Now you've done it."

"What?" Troy asked, giving him a lopsided smile. "Pissed off some fucker crazier than you? Probably."

"Say that again and you're walking," Gat replied, frowning as he examined the rear of the Halberd. V followed his eyes and noticed a few dings at the bottom where the trunk would've engaged, showing that it might've been forced open. "Still got two working legs. Don't see what the problem is."

Troy sat on the edge of the trunk and V took one of his arms as he tried to stand. Johnny quickly grabbed him when that failed, and slung his arm over his shoulder. "Ah, fuck." Troy closed his eyes and V took his other arm. "I'm swimming laps."

"You making out what he's saying?" Gat asked, turning to her.

"Yeah, we need to get him upstairs, because nonsense is bad. Very bad."

This exchange continued into the the elevator and while Troy wasn't entirely present, he did talk, and Johnny's needling only encouraged him to continue. The relief she felt from that kept her moving, and they placed him in one of the spare bedrooms that didn't see a lot of traffic.

The wait after that nearly drove her nuts, however, and she was ready to jump to word association games when the doctor finally showed up and kicked them out.

That was almost even worse.

"Say it."

V was pacing a hole into the carpet and Johnny just stood there on the other side of the room, his arms crossed. "What?"

"Whatever's on your mind right now, because I can't get mine to stop."

Gat watched her make another round and didn't move from his post by the door. "Don't know about that. Though he's done it this time. Must've pissed off someone bad, and for Troy that shit's easy."

"Really? Hadn't noticed."

"Problem there's who."

V stopped and tried tallying a list, but everything was scattered. She wanted to act, not plan and sit on the fact that someone knew to aim at Troy. Knew enough to place him in her car specifically, and chose not to kill him.

She wanted to wrap her hands around their neck and choke the life out of them.

"Yeah, I get that," she threw out, returning to her pacing. "Could be anyone left over from before, though. Old Ronin, Samedi, Brotherhood. Could be even older than that. They just have to know a handful of facts about Troy, and who doesn't know that he was with the Saints at this point? It's a fucking no-brainer."

Johnny nodded, and watched her carefully as she moved. "Who do you want on this?"

"Shaundi. She's got the best network, and I know she'll get this out fast and on the down-low. I do not want this broadcasted, because this son-of-a-bitch wants a big a reaction as possible. Well, they're not getting one." Not until I can rip their fucking head off.

She stomped over to the door and put her ear to it. It was silent, and that made her swear loudly.

"V."

"Shouldn't she be done? It's taking way too damn long for it to be minor-"

"V." She turned to Gat and she recognized that expression. She hadn't seen it in a long time. "They're not getting away."

"They're running right now," she said, her voice quiet.

"They're waiting. Showy fuckers always do."

She let that sink in for a few seconds, then felt a smile tug at her lips. "They do, don't they?"

The smile he gave her back was full of promise and she was glad to have it.

Ten more minutes passed before anything happened. She'd almost resumed her circuit, when the door popped open and Dr. Allen closed it behind her. "What's the damage, doc?"

"Damage? Enough to require better medical attention. I'm seeing enough symptoms to say that he could have a concussion, and the equipment we have here isn't enough to assess it. He needs to go to the hospital, and I'm prepared to call an ambulance as soon as this conversation is over."

That almost immediately broke her first declaration, but it was stupid to argue it. Especially since her common sense kicked in at that moment and reminded her that the police department was likely wondering just where the hell he was. He couldn't stay as much as she wanted him to.

"Fine. Get him loaded up and ready to go, because we're going to be neck-deep in cops at some point anyway. Don't want this going anywhere but here."

"I'll be down the hall, but call me if anything changes."

She pulled out her phone and V hesitated before going inside. Johnny hadn't moved an inch. "Hey, you staying here, or...?"

"Yeah. I'll stay in case someone comes knocking."

Gat turned away after that, and she lingered until she was sure he wasn't going to say another word. She slipped through after that and closed the door as quietly as possible.

Troy didn't look good, but he was comfortable, and with no one else around she parked herself right by his bedside. The bruises were even more livid up close, however, and she felt her nails dig into her palms.

"I must really look like shit, eh?" he asked, blinking slowly. "Don't pull any punches."

"You've been punched enough for one day, Troy. Shut up." He tried to lift his arm up and she took his hand, squeezing it tightly.

He squeezed hers back, and she let herself focus on that for as long as she was able.