Continuation of the previous part. Still sticking with SR1 for now!

"Stupid, stupid, stupid," V chanted to herself as she slipped into one of the side entrances of the church. If her timing was right she should be able to locate Dex, and only Dex.

She wanted work. Needed work. Sitting alone with nothing to do was the last thing she wanted right now, and the nervous energy running through her needed a better outlet than tapping her foot and feeling sorry for herself.

He was talking to Johnny - something which nearly made her backpedal out of the room - but pushed forward anyway. The promise of a list of things to do was too appealing to pass up.

"Hey, how's it going?" Dex asked, smiling as she walked up to them.

She laid her hand flat in the air and tilted it from side to side. "So-so. I've been better."

"For real? After what I heard you won last night? I'd be feeling pretty good."

"Well, you usually feel amazing after doing a line of coke, but you've got to come down at some point, right?"

"Bad end, then," Johnny guessed, and V made sure she wasn't looking in his direction. "Should've skipped the lap dance."

"So, Dex," she said, speaking up to keep Johnny from going on, "got anything for me?"

Dex usually didn't think much of it and just gave her something to do. Today he had a skeptical look on him. "Already gave you most of the major stuff. I've got some other things cooking on the backburner, but..."

"I'll do it."

The two men turned towards each other, then back to her, both of them mystified. "Okay. Usually we save this for some of the newer crew, but if you've got time to burn, then why not?"

Collecting the money took an hour, tops. Dex had warned her, but as she stomped back in she didn't care. "All done."

Johnny eyed her up and down. "Something on fire?"

"Yeah, me," V replied, folding her arms. "Anything else?"

They appeared to have still been discussing plans about the Vice Kings, but Dex shrugged and pulled a list off of the wall. "If you're still asking. Surprised Troy's got nothing for you."

"Haven't asked." The words slipped out and she wanted to kick herself.

Johnny was definitely looking her over with interest now. "That's a fucking surprise. The hell are you in here then?"

"Felt like ruining a lot of VKs' day. No better way to do that than to ask the local experts."

"Bullshit," Gat countered, but Dex waved him off.

"Ain't nothing wrong with that. We do need someone to take the heat off of us while I see if this angle works. This should keep you busy for a while until we get something else lined up." Dex held the list out, but pulled it back when she reached for it. "Call if anything comes up."

That sounded like an order. She nodded quickly and grabbed again for the list. "Got it."

He still didn't let her have it yet. "I mean it. Call. Any questions, anything, just call."

"Sure, man. Got it," she said, plucking it out of his hand.

On her way out she bummed a cigarette from one of the Saints hanging in the cemetery, and as she lit it she saw Troy's car pull up on the side. Playing it casual, she took a long drag off of her smoke and made her way towards the other end of the tombstones so she could jump the fence.

Stupid? Yes. Petty? Not really. Necessary? For now.

She resumed her chant as she jogged home to grab some extra ammo, and hoped she'd run into a Raycaster along the way.

Dex had been right. The little list of things did keep her occupied, and as she kept checking them off she found her mood going through the roof. Sometimes busywork really was the best cure, and half of the tasks didn't even have strict guidelines to meet.

So, if she needed to send a message to a rival gang, she could absolutely do so by spraypainting obscenities on the sides of their car. For some it'd been an improvement. Other cars she just slashed the tires of.

Eight cars later, she dispensed with the subtlety, bought a string of firecrackers, and just tossed a set into one of their local hangouts. That had more of an immediate effect, and the resulting chase burnt off whatever tension had been left.

After hitting the Forgive and Forget, she scratched that task off, and found herself staring at a blank line. "Shit." She groaned as she pulled out her phone and hoped that Dex wouldn't give her any crap about this.

"What's happening?"

"Hey, it's me. I might've been a bit ambitious."

"...Are you serious?"

"Yep."

"Even with the extra bit from Johnny?"

"Yeah. Whoops."

He sighed. "Shit, girl. You really are a menace. Come back to the church and maybe we can figure something out."

Sighing herself, she hung up and kicked the broken bumper of her Halberd. It creaked then fell off. "I love you too, you piece of shit," she muttered, climbing back into the driver's seat.

The loudest rock music she could find blared out of her open windows as she drove the janky car into something resembling a parking space. The dent from the last time she'd parked there was still present, so she used it as a point of reference.

Dee was passing a joint around as she walked up to the side of the church, and V gave her a fistbump as she went inside. The others didn't seem to be around, but it wasn't even that late in the evening yet. Most wouldn't be by until one to two in the morning.

Dex was holed up in the office she'd cornered him in earlier, but wasn't alone. Johnny sat to one side of him along with Troy, and all three turned to acknowledge her as she came in. It made her bristle, and she wasn't sure who to be pissed at more.

Troy greeted her first, cigarette in hand. "Hey."

"Hey. How's it going?" she asked, shoving her hands into her pockets.

His smile was muted, but still present. "Been better. Heard you've been looking for work?"

You bastards. She saw Johnny's smirk, and gave Troy a non-committal shrug. "Kind of."

"Kind of?" Johnny asked, both of his feet propped on the desk, bum knee and all. "That's a change. A few days ago you were begging us for shit to do."

"Dex, not you," she corrected, pointing at Dex. "I know better than to ask you about work. Almost got my ass arrested yesterday, by the way!"

"You know you had fun," Johnny said, and she actually found herself smiling a little.

"Fine, maybe I can give you that, but a girl can only set so many things on fire. ...And I'm sure as hell not counting myself."

"She's got a point," Dex added, leaning back in his chair. "Third-degree burns hurt like a motherfucker."

"You still looking?" Troy asked, shifting her attention back to him. He'd turned away to exhale, and she watched him do so. "I think I can dig up a job or two."

Picking at a loose thread in her pocket, she twisted it around her finger and tried to snap it. "Sure, why not? I think Dex would appreciate the break instead of having me blow up his phone the minute things dry up."

"You want to talk about it later? Over coffee, or something?"

"Coffee? Uh, okay." His easy tone was confusing her. It had to have shown on her face by now, and her feelings took a lovely dig at her insides. It nearly made her scowl in response. "I just remembered I've got extra shit to do, so call me and we'll figure something out."

He nodded, either unaware of her discomfort, or all too aware of it. She hoped it was the first instead of the second. "Sounds good."

"Cool, I'm out. Catch you all later."

As she stomped out to her car, she pulled out the crumpled pack of cigarettes in her pocket. The crumpled, empty pack.

V threw it at the nearest trash can and sped off, nearly clipping an older gentleman on the sidewalk. She barely caught the finger he was flashing in the rearview mirror as she left.

Troy called her later that night when she was back at home, scrubbing her coffee pot. It'd been a week since she'd cleaned it and the damn thing was looking stained. Giving her scrubbing job a skeptical glance, she threw it back in the soapy water and told him he was free to come over whenever he had time.

"Would now work?"

She lifted up the pot again and tilted her head to the side. Those stains were definitely not coming out. "If you want."

"See you soon, then."

"Sure thing."

The phone went over in the general direction of her bed as she started round two with the glass container, and prayed it would be something close to clean before he walked through that door. Screw the rest of her apartment. It was passable. The coffee pot she wanted spotless.

Maybe that was how she knew she was a bit hopeless when it came to him. Even now she wanted to shine the damn thing until it glistened.

The coffee maker was in the process of spitting coffee out when he finally showed up, knocking with the same authority he always did. Loud and two to three at a time.

She didn't bother checking. After unlocking it she tugged it open once and walked back into the kitchen. "Door's open."

"So much for worrying about being stood up," she heard him say as he closed and locked it behind him.

"So you could stand on my non-existent porch all night? That's pretty damn cruel, even for me, man." She found two clean cups and set them aside, pretending to stay busy. "I'd invite you inside. Eventually."

"Good to hear." Peeking over the counter, she noticed the small smile on his face, but looked away before they could make eye contact. "...You know we could've just met somewhere else, right?"

She had no choice but to look up now. "Yeah, I know."

"Because I could've sworn that was on the fritz last time."

"It was. Not now." V grabbed the cups and handed one to him as he came closer to inspect the slightly ancient Mr. Coffee machine. "At least it seems to be working."

"Huh. Guess so."

He was halfway through his current cigarette and she resisted the urge to ask him for one. The urge to steal his was just as bad, and she fiddled with the machine's controls to encourage it to go faster. It didn't.

"This thing is slower than traffic going through a school zone. Jesus." Troy was watching her now instead of the machine, and she glared at him. "What?"

"Nothing," he said, vaguely amused.

Liar. V hit the machine two more times then took what was there and poured it into her cup. She choked. "That's just fucking toxic, don't even try it," she said, taking his cup away. "God. That's almost weapons-grade."

"Can't be worse than some of the shit I've had, V," he replied, reaching around her.

She blocked him. "Trust me. You're better off." She reached over the counter to pour the rest out in the sink and sighed. "Thing holds a grudge. It has to."

With that wasted, she placed her cup on the counter and chewed on her lip as she weighed her options. After thirty seconds of doing so, she finally just said 'Fuck it', and turned to face him directly.

"Look, I like you. A lot. ...And I'm going to butcher the hell out this, but just hear me out, okay? I jumped you. Might've jumped more than a few steps as well, and now I'm worried I might've fucked something up somewhere. So, if you want to back up, scratch the last few days off of the calendar and pretend nothing happened, I'm willing to give you a free pass."

He was stunned. Maybe even confused to the point that he was wondering if English was coming out of her mouth. "What?"

"I'm saying that I acted like a fucking idiot, and if you want to forget about it I'm okay with that."

The expression on his face did a clear one-eighty, and she almost felt pinned by it. "The fuck, V?"

"What? I'm serious! I jumped right from first base to third and three-quarters, and the only thing that stopped me from banging you that night was your goddamn driver's seat. I think I went a little overboard."

"Right." He crossed his arms and she couldn't tell if he was more irritated than angry. "And your clothes just flew off on their own. Magically removed themselves."

She shrugged. "It's happened before. Not often, but after a full bottle of tequila anything's possible. I don't ask questions. Anyway, that's what's on the table. I'm just thinking ahead, you know? I don't want you to back off or avoid me just because I couldn't keep my hands to myself."

"That's...it's not that," he answered tersely.

That confused her, more than a little. "It's like I said before. I like you. I just don't want every other time you're around me to be miserable because I pulled a shit move."

"It wasn't." Troy glanced back at her and let his eyes settle somewhere off to the side. "I'm just still going over it. Processing it."

"Oh." She swallowed the lump in her throat and wasn't sure how to feel. "I knew I threw you off a little."

"That's a fucking understatement," he admitted, puffing away at his cigarette. "You kicked me off a goddamn cliff."

"Troy, I've thought about you fucking me over the hood of your car. Me being sexually attracted to you shouldn't be that hard to believe."

There was that blank look again. Then a borderline embarrassed one. "Huh."

Okay, maybe she hadn't meant to actually admit that out loud. "I might've let my mind wander a bit after the race against the Rollerz. Adrenaline high's a bitch alone. Anyway, I had a point to this, but I keep on losing it. So, yeah. Option one's still available, and you can pick it any time you want. No harm, no foul. Option two's full of awkward acknowledgment, but has the added benefit of me fucking off if it helps."

His mouth twisted. "It doesn't."

"Okay, then maybe special option number three?"

"Three?"

"If you ever get stressed out, jumpy or uh, touchy, you could come over for a while. Just to burn it off, you know? Keep it on the down-low, casual. I'm still technically under you." She paused. "...Shit, bad word choice, but if no one knows about it we can pretty much do whatever the hell we want with it."

"That's your wild card?"

It was a stretch. "Kinda. If you want."

"If I want?" he asked, as if the idea was just ridiculous.

"Yeah."

The time he took to think about that made her dig her nails into her palms. After a while, though, he ran a hand over his face and met her eyes again. "...And what about you?"

"Me?"

He gestured right towards her, his eyes pinning her again. "Yeah, you. You want this?"

It had to have shown, just for a second. Stupid, stupid, stupid. She opened and closed her mouth, her brain flapping around like a fish before settling. "Yeah. Yeah, I think I do. I took a hellish route to get here, but I'm starting to think that's my thing. Over-complicating stuff."

"Because it's supposed to be simple, right?"

"Oh, yeah. Real fucking simple."

Troy's expression softened, almost turning fond, and pretty much went back to normal. "Then I don't know what the problem is."

"Wait, what?" It was her turn to blink dumbly at him as he put out his old cigarette and lit a new one. "...That's it? We're settled?"

He shrugged. "Yep."

"And you're okay with this? Whatever this is?"

"Yep." Another puff of his cigarette and he seemed downright relaxed.

That infuriated her. "You asshole. I worried about this conversation for two days straight."

He gave her a look. "You think you were the only one?"

"Hell no, but I wasn't expecting this. Maybe you'd humor me a bit. See how long we could be awkward in the same space before running the other out. Not..." She dragged her hat down over her face and let out a frustrated noise. "Ugh, motherfucker. Sometimes I wonder if I do this to myself on purpose."

Troy took the brim of her hat and nudged it up, catching her eye. "Don't worry about it."

"Easier said than done, chief, but thanks," she said, feeling sheepish. "My face is pretty damn red right now, isn't it?"

He brushed his fingers against her cheek and she knew that didn't help. "Hadn't noticed."

"Liar. So...we're cool, right?"

"Frosty."

He gave her a crooked smile and she still felt kind of like an idiot. One confused, hopeful idiot. So she then did what came naturally. Act like a bigger one.

"Cool, so uh, want to fuck?"

He blinked as if she had just slapped him in the face. "What?"

"Um, that might've been too blunt," she muttered, cringing. "I might've used up all of my seduction points the other night. You know, with the thing and the uh, car."

"You know that's on the same level as the 'Nice shoes, want to fuck?' line, right?"

"No, but it's probably just as effective." i.e. Not. "Though if that line came from you, then I know I need to hear the story behind that."

He ran a hand through his hair and sighed deeply. "God, you're a piece of work, V."

"But I'm not a bad one, right?" she asked, as he put his cigarette down on the edge of one of her many ashtrays. "Still semi-desirable? At least a tiny bit fuckable?"

The expression he gave her wasn't amused at all. Expecting that exact reaction, she pretended to sigh dejectedly and walked around him so she could at least salvage the evening with a beer.

She didn't even make it to the fridge. He intercepted her and planted a kiss on her, pushing her back against the counter. A minute later they were in her bed and he was peeling her jeans off of her legs. Not as expected, but easily appreciated.

"You could've just said yes." she said, wiggling out of her shirt.

"Could've." He slid her underwear down next, and her breath caught in her throat. "Course I could've, but I'm starting to think we both deserve fucking medals for complicating things."

"Go gold or go home, right?" she joked, liking the way his eyes were slowly tracing over her. "And now I'm thinking of that stupid line."

"Which one?"

"The one with the shoes. Oh, Jesus-"

She felt his breath on her for a second, then bit the inside of her cheek hard. He touched her again and she bit down harder. The cool metal of his watch ran up and down her thigh as his hand moved, and she couldn't string together a sentence to save her life.

Swearing was easy enough though. They definitely had that in common.