Back to SR1! Bugging Troy a lot, but I could always use more writing practice with him.

"She's getting better."

Troy scraped up whatever winnings Dex had left him and started putting the cards away. "Still doesn't know how to bet worth a damn, though. Half the money she wins almost immediately goes back into the pot."

"If she wants to keep what she earns she'll get it. Maybe not now, but it's got to get through to her sooner or later, right?" Dex opened the beer next to him, and nodded at the group of Saints walking by their table.

The game might've been done, but that didn't mean that the night at Tee'N'Ay was over. They all had a few hours left in them, and Troy could still stand to put back a few more drinks.

Dex usually stayed sober, preferring to nurse a beer or two over the evening, but tonight he was a bit looser than usual. Which made him more talkative than usual. Troy was pretty okay with this, but he wasn't sure what to file this information under yet.

The beer was half-empty when Dex spoke up again. "Funny how this is the thing she's awful at."

"Awful? I've seen worse. Most go for the driving first."

Dex tilted his head to the side as he considered it. "Don't know about that, man. Have you seen her work?"

"Seen her?" Troy dropped the cards and looked right at him. "I've been in the goddamn car with her. She can pull some wild stunts, but it takes years off of your life."

Dex laughed. "Still gets shit done. She's our top hijacker. You remember that story they did after the semi was hit, right? Nearly rolled it and crushed half the cars on the highway. Girl's a menace."

"She's reckless. There's a difference," Troy said, tapping his cigarette on the ashtray. "Besides, it's not like she hasn't cleared out half the things on your fucking checklist."

"True." Dex took a drink of his beer and looked towards the stage. "And your girl's done a hell of a lot to make the Carnales sweat."

"…My girl?" It sounded even more ridiculous coming out of his mouth, and he gave Dex a wry grin. "Don't recall her ever joining my crew officially. Think I'd remember that."

"She sure as hell isn't mine," Dex said. "Wish she was. Dedication like that's powerful."

Troy put down his beer, and gave Dex a measured glance. "And dangerous. That's why she's Julius's."

Dex didn't exactly meet his eye, but held up his beer in acknowledgment and tilted it back. "Also true. Probably a damn good thing she doesn't favor Johnny, right?"

"Don't even say things like that out loud. You'll jinx us," Troy joked.

"You're not the one who has to plan around him. If he had his say half of downtown would've been blown off of the fucking map. The VKs have to be feeling the heat."

"You know they are. They're just doing a damn good job of acting like it's nothing."

Dex raised an eyebrow, but shrugged and went back to watching the stage. Troy heard familiar laughter behind him and he wondered if that was one reason why Dex was keeping such a close eye on it. "Think V might be up for another shot at that?"

"Another shot at what?"

"The VKs."

Taking a long drag off of his cigarette, Troy exhaled and let the cig hang between his fingers. "Course she would."

"Might want to borrow her once this finishes up then. Shouldn't be too hard of a sell-" His words trailed off, and Dex's expression went quickly from confusion to stunned recognition.

There was a whoop, and Troy turned around only to have something hit him in the face. He pulled the sweatshirt off of his head and kept his eyes closed for a second. He then cracked both open.

V was in the process of trying to spin around the pole, and stumbled, falling right onto her side. She giggled like crazy, and the stripper next to her knelt down to see how she was doing.

"Okay, party's over," Troy sighed, getting up to check on her. "Might want to save the business talk for tomorrow when she's sober."

"Want some help?" Dex started to get up also, no longer shocked but curious.

His response to that came fast. "Nah, I got it. Just got to get her off stage before some dipshit starts chucking hundreds at her. Thanks for coming out, man."

"Sure thing," Dex replied, sparing her one last glance. The one he gave him wasn't as easy to read. "Just don't let her drive."

"No worries there," he promised, holding up the keys that V had left on the table earlier. "Got to see if she can nail walking first."

As of right now, that fact was debatable. V reached out an arm to him when Troy got close, rolling over to lie on her stomach. "Hey, Troy. Room's spinning a bit."

He did not remember walking by her hat. Or her shirt. The white tattoo on her shoulder stood out against her brown skin more than he remembered, and he wished he had another cigarette. The one he'd dropped was probably burning a hole in the carpet somewhere. "You didn't go for the drink special, did you?"

"What? You mean the blue stuff?" He felt her hand tug at his belt. "Might've had at least one."

"That's one too many, V. The damn thing's probably full of uppers."

"Oh, hush." She pushed herself up and the deep purple of her bra drew his eye against his better judgment. "I can be responsible. I know my limits."

"Sure you do."

He tried to grab her arm to help her get down, but she put it around his neck instead. "You know I do."

"Sure you do," Troy repeated, taking her in. She noticed this time and leaned in closer, her fingers playing with the back of his shirt. When her lips brushed his cheek he pulled back enough to gesture towards the floor, his throat dry. "Bet you can't walk a straight line without serious help."

"You're on," V said with a grin. She swung her feet out and hopped forward, collapsing into a heap on the floor. One of her arms went up and then hit the ground to steady herself. "I'm okay! Screwed up the landing, that's all."

The stripper that was still on stage raised her eyebrows. "Think you might need a hand there, hon."

That's a fucking understatement, Troy noted, before kneeling down to help her up. "Easy there. You don't always have to take a flying leap."

He slung her arm around his shoulders and let her lean on him as they stood up. "That wasn't a leap. That was actually kinda awful."

"You got to start somewhere," he said, trying to keep an eye out for her clothes. They ambled back to his table, and she leaned against the edge as he helped her get her sweatshirt back on. "Wait here for a minute."

She watched the zipper go up, her arms perched on the flat surface behind her. "Sure thing, boss."

As he scooped up her hat and later her t-shirt, he strongly considered just pushing them into her hands and hailing her a taxi. It would be easier. It would be a hell of a lot easier, but being a dick to her wouldn't ensure that she got home in one piece.

Troy popped her hat onto her head, and she flicked at the brim. "You're the best."

"So you say, kid."

The word slipped out, half-reflex, half-defense. It was one of the few times that he wasn't sure if he'd meant it or not, but it was too late to take it back.

V laughed once and wandered towards the door, swaying with every other step. When he tried to put a hand on her back she half-heartedly swatted at it. "No thanks, old man. This kid's got it. Hasn't lost it."

She pitched forward when they got out the door, however, puking her guts out on the pavement. He managed to grab her hair and hat in one go, holding them back as far as possible.

After coughing a bit, she groaned. "Maybe not."

"Close enough for horseshoes, V."

"I guess." Her hand scrubbed at her mouth and she gave him a knowing look. "At least now you don't have to worry about me kissing you."

Troy let her walk ahead, her hat still in his hand. "Guess not."