A/N- And here's chapter six! FeistyGreenSnake, I soo love seeing your comments on each chapter. Salvanael, haha yeah this is basically just a manifestation of what i wanted to happen in game! Guest, thanks, i've been trying pretty hard to capture Matt's character. Professor Genki, it will definitely be a challenge getting the Saints and the Deckers to merge! Anchorgurl, thank you so much, you honestly have no idea how much reviews like this mean to me! Darcy, here's more, haha. Anyway, it seems like quite a few of you are interested in this continuing into Saints Row IV so I'll start thinking up the storyline for that part of the fanfic. This is a Matt POV chapter, thank you so much for your viewership, please R&R!

Disclaimer: I do not, nor will I ever own Saints Row or any of its characters. The content of this story was not meant to insult anyone in any way, shape or form. Rated T for violence and coarse language.

Chapter Six: A First

It physically hurts me to see the old Decker HQ this way. Where's all the blue smoke? Where's my neon-lit dance floor? Where are the myriad of computers that we'd used to convene within our usenet? I can't stop myself from scowling at every single stupid, purple object in this redesigned building and, as nearly everything in here is purple now, that takes quite a while. When Pierce, that bumbling sideshow, had asked me to take a seat at the bar and wait for the boss I'd imagined that it wouldn't take longer than a few minutes. It's been a quarter hour now and the death glares I'm getting from every Saint here are getting a bit disconcerting.

I avert my eyes from the strippers dancing in the atrium behind me and try to focus on the drink the purple-clad bartender had shoved into my unwilling hand. Technically speaking, I'm too young to drink; I'll be seventeen in less than a month, but even that is under the the legally mandated drinking age. Most alcohol tastes bad anyway, with the exception of those fruity drinks that men get made fun of for ordering. A girl in a high ponytail sits down beside me as I contemplate my beer and I don't recognize her at first. She's pretty and well-endowed, but the furious look on her face makes me want to run away screaming.

"Don't look at me, you little shit," she growls from between gritted teeth, "Don't even talk to me. Just listen very closely."

I edge away from her on my barstool but she slams her hand down on my arm, holding me in place. Her sharp, manicured nails dig into the leather of my jacket.

"I don't know if you were involved, but I'll never forgive your stupid organization for killing Johnny." her vice-like grip tightens, "And if you so much as breathe on the boss...well let's just say that nobody in the world will have enough money to pay off your hospital bill."

Her nails have broken my skin by this point but I'm too terrified by her threat to even think about that. If I was waiting for anyone other than the Saints Queen I'd have made a bid for escape long ago. The girl beside me, who I now recognize is Shaundi (resident TV-star and one of the Saints' lieutenants) stands up again and stomps off in the same way a tiger would stalk through his domain. I'd read her files before but none of them had mentioned that she was so...disturbed.

I'd given my Deckers an order to dismantle everything that was ours mere hours ago and the thought of that still hurts. They'd been informed that they'd be allowed to decide to either leave the gang-warfare business entirely or to join the Third-Street Saints. Half of my manpower was gone, but that meant that only the ones absolutely loyal to me had remained. I'm glad for that knowledge, and glad too that Kirsten has vowed to stay. The Deckers would never have made it as far as they did without her.

"Matt!" a voice I've come to love calls out shrilly, "You showed up! Good thing too, I was worried I'd have to get Oleg to hunt you down."

The Queen hops down the staircase to the left of the bar, taking the steps two at a time. I fear for her safety on the off chance that she loses her balance, but quickly realize that if the stairs were in any way dangerous to her she would never have survived all the bullets she'd come in contact with in her short lifetime. This thought reminds me, again, that she is twenty-one years old. The age gap between us is too wide for us to have even the slightest chance of being together, completely disregarding the fact that she'd never consider me in the first place.

"Well...here I am." I say, because I can't think of anything else. The boss beams, her canines gleaming in the purple half-light, but everyone else still looks like they want to run me through with the nearest sharp object.

"Come on." she uses a finger to beckon me forward, but the eyes of every other Saint keep me in place. I feel like they'll pounce if I make even the slightest movement. Seeing this she struts forward and grabs my hand, tugging me back up the stairs more quickly than I'd expected. I don't weigh all that much, but this is just ridiculous. She is unbelievably strong.

"Do you like what we've done with the place?" she says brightly, her gaze fixed on the lavender chandelier that hangs from the ceiling above us. I try to ignore the warmth of her hand in mine and focus on answering her.

"Not even a little." I murmur. I'm still unsure of whether I'm allowed to speak my mind at all. I did spare her life, however, so hopefully that gives me some sort of leeway. To my surprise she lets out a roar of laughter.

"Not really Decker style, is it?" we've reached the bedroom upstairs and she pauses to motion towards the furnishings that reside here, all in varying hues of purple like those in the room downstairs. How do the Saints put up with all this color without feeling sick?

"It really isn't," I grimace, "But it's yours now to do with as you will."

She takes on a thoughtful expression and, with absolutely no warning, shoves me onto the gigantic, fluffy bed in the center of the room. She then pulls a chair up close to the headboard and throws herself down on it.

"Actually, I was thinking of giving it back to you. If the Deckers are gonna join us, they'll need a place to fucking sleep, right?"

Profanities slip from her lips more naturally than regular words do, I notice. Not that I mind. I'm not sure when I realized that I loved her, but as soon as I had even the cruel parts of her nature had started to seem endearing to me.

"That's awfully uncharacteristic of you."

"I know." she purses her lips, "But this is the first time one of my enemies told me they were in love with me. I'm a little new to this."

I blush a deep red at this and pull one of the pillows off of the bedspread to cover my face with. She grins mischievously and moves a hand forward to push my hair out of my eyes.

"So what was it you fell in love with?" her smirk is a little too smug now, "I know I'm hot, but I didn't know I was that hot. Do you think I could get Killbane to want in my pants too?"

This stings just slightly, but her hand on my face makes the pain hard to feel. She reminds me a little bit of those icy-hot patches athletes put on their bruises, both cool and warm all at the same time.

"It's not like that." I say defensively, "My interest in you has nothing to do with my desire to sleep with you."

"So you do wanna sleep with me?"

She's teasing me now, I get that. I'm beginning to understand the way she goes about a conversation.

"I'm nearly seventeen and at my hormonal peak. Connect the dots, love."

"I couldn't fuck you anyway," she fakes a pout, "It's illegal."

I let out a chuckle before I can help it.

"You thrive on illegal actions."

That smug smile grows wider still as she successfully digests my words and I try to deny the shiver of longing that runs down my spine.

"We'll protect you from Killbane." she promises, leaning back into her chair, "The others don't like you much but they'll do what I tell them to."

Like I care in the slightest what those hairless apes think of me. Their collective IQ would not add up to a number high enough to purchase my Raycaster (and there are a ton of Saints in Steelport). Hers is the only opinion I care about.

"And you?" I ask, my heart thumping in my throat.

"Me what?"

"How do you feel about me?"

Try as I might, I can't keep the hopeful look off my face as I say this. She stops smiling, a serious expression replacing the smugness she'd worn before.

"I like you enough to keep you alive when everyone I care about wants you dead." she says with no inflection in her voice, "Does that answer your question?"

I nod, but my curiousity is not satisfied.

"Why?"

There's a pause in our conversation as the Saints Queen falls silent for the first time in all the days that I've spoken to her. She gets out of her seat, eyes fixed on me.

"I don't know."

She turns away and walks across the room, calling back to me over her shoulder as she goes.

"It was real fucking stupid of you to just walk in here without any weapons, you know. We were enemies, I could've changed my mind and tried to kill you."

"That was a chance I was willing to take." I admit, putting the pillow I'd been clutching to my face aside, "But, since it seems we've decided on being honest with each other, I must admit that I do have a failsafe in place."

She freezes in place.

"Do you now?"

There's an edge to her tone that frightens me and I hasten to explain myself.

"It's nothing drastic! My second-in-command suggested that, in case I was held hostage, I hack into your accounts and deplete your monetary assets. She would have given them back to you upon my release. I, on the other hand, had complete faith in you, I swear!"

She's taken on a peculiar expression and her lips are twisted into a strange, regretful shape.

"You have faith in me."

"Absolute faith." I confirm.

"The last person who said that to me is dead."

The boss straightens herself out and heads for the first step in the staircase. I don't like this. I don't like the pained look I'd seen a couple seconds ago and I'm not sure what caused it, but I want to take it away. I'm bothered by how much I like her smile.

"Do you remember that night I texted you to tell you good night?" I begin, not quite sure where I'm going with this. She shrugs, a nonverbal yes.

"I texted you because I'd fallen in love with you." I feel my face warming up again, "To see that sudden transformation from ruthless killer to the perfect, broken person you are...it was astounding how much I wanted to be with you in that moment."

Her eyes widen and she blinks rapidly to cover up her surprise. When she looks at me again she seems a little bit perturbed.

"So you did have cameras in my room!"

Out of everything I just said, this is what she decided to latch onto?

"Yes of course. We were enemies at the time and I had orders to keep you under surveillance."

"You've seen me naked!"

I run a shaky hand through my hair. I had seen her naked, a good couple times actually, but I'd usually had the decency to turn away or cover my eyes. Needless to say, her body is nothing to scoff at.

"No comment." I mutter, because it feels safer than admitting anything else. She continues to glare at me for a few moments more before the fire breaks and her usual, self-concerned expression is back again. She runs one thin finger over the railing, still speaking to me.

"I've got some stuff that needs to be done." she breaks off, hesitating for less than a second, "You could come with me, if you want. It'd be way fucking safer than staying up here."

An offer to stay by her side? I don't consider refusing for even a second.

"We'll go together."