Takes place in SR2 in the middle of the Ronin missions at the suburbs strip club stronghold. Wanted to get some more Johnny down here, before I jump back into Take Two's next chapter, so here we go!

It was too loud. Too loud and there were still too many fuckers in front of her wearing yellow.

Her SMG went off, sweeping from left to right, but it did nothing. At least that's what it felt like as V ducked back into cover. Johnny was within arms reach of her and she couldn't even begin to count the number of casings hitting the ground around him. When he had no choice but to stop and reload, she darted back up and kept up the fight, not wanting to give them even a moment of peace. They hadn't earned it, and she wasn't about to let them have it.

"You think they'll ever try to get a lap dance here again?" she asked when she had a chance to speak again. Only one clip was left on her, but she wasn't worried about a shortage of guns or ammunition with what was going down around them. Maybe to jazz things up a bit she could steal one of their fancy swords. At least three had caught her eye before she'd crouched down behind the table, and it wasn't like they were going to use them again.

"Don't know, don't fucking care," Gat threw out, his attention fixed in front of him.

His assault came to an abrupt stop when his bullets ran out, and he threw the rifle to the side with an angry yell. She tossed him her SMG, loaded and ready to go, and skidded across the floor to the next spot with proper cover. The strip club didn't seem to have a lot of it, but all she needed was a place that disrupted their line of sight.

A body was slumped within a foot of her and she snagged their pistol, ejecting the clip to check if there was anything left. She glanced up in the middle of counting the bullets down, and felt a wave of panic rise as Johnny cleared their cover completely to deal with the remaining Ronin left standing. The gun shook as she took aim, and she managed to score two hits before he absently mowed them down, not even acknowledging the shots that had grazed the air by him.

"Fuck," she breathed, lowering her weapon. It trembled in her hand, and she sat there staring dumbly at him as he fired his last few rounds into a nearby body. When the SMG was empty, he dropped it to the floor and grabbed one of the discarded shotguns, checking to see if it was loaded. V barely had time to grab extra ammo herself before he was heading up the stairs, oblivious to everything but what was standing in front of him.

She scrambled to get to her feet, his name caught in her throat, and took the stairs two at a time until she was left with nothing but more spent casings and dead bodies. The sound of gunfire carried her after that, and she nearly ran over two more Ronin in her rush to find Johnny.

The one in front of her drew her sword, and V ducked to the side as the other tried to draw a bead on her. The katana nicked the wall by her head, and V caught the woman's arm when she tried to bring the sword back up again. The headbutt that followed threw the Ronin off balance, and V threw her handgun at the other's face. It hit his nose, making red go everywhere, and V used the advantage to steal the lost sword and jam it into his stomach.

The graceful weapon wasn't meant for this, but there were some days when couldn't finesse her way out of a paper bag. Today was one of them. V tried to yank the katana out, and had to plant a boot on the guy to give her the leverage needed to do so. He fell, and V ended up dropping the sword for her gun anyway just as the other Ronin had regained her footing. She only had enough time to throw out something in Japanese before V sent a bullet her way for her troubles.

Then she was running again. Johnny wasn't present, but she could still hear him continuing the fight. Turning one last corner, she caught sight of the stairs leading to the roof and rushed towards them, ignoring the way her lungs had begun to burn. Gat wasn't far ahead once the purple of his shirt caught her eye, and she didn't think, just acted as she flew forward to dive for his midsection. Plaster flew as they fell out of sight, and V's gun was back in her hand by the time she darted back up to retaliate.

It only took one shot for her to send the Ronin over the edge of the roof and the second he disappeared, V felt something clamp down hard on her wrist. Johnny shoved her down, her back slamming against the brick, and she felt something unfamiliar rise up as he towered over her. Fear.

"The fuck was that?" he asked, his voice even.

That made her heart beat even faster. "Saving your stupid ass from getting shot. What do you think?"

"Do I look hurt to you?"

"Don't even fucking try to throw that at me," she spat, trying to ignore the way her voice wavered. "You were up as soon as the meds allowed it, and I see you've completely forgotten about the stitches you've probably ripped. Great work there."

His grip tightened, making her wince, and the minute that crossed her face he quickly let go. "You're supposed to stay behind me."

"Side by side or nothing, you ass. That's how we do things."

"...Fucking moron." Gat tried to get mad again, but it couldn't cover the way he'd regarded her in that moment.

V watched him glance over their cover, her heart hammering away. Then she saw it. The dark red spot spreading out on his side. "Johnny."

"There's four left. They're on the ground," he said, not even fazed.

"Johnny. I think something tore."

"Figures. Got to take those motherfuckers out first, though." V pushed herself up onto her elbows and put a hand to his side. He pulled away with a snarl. "Fucking drop it!"

"Fuck that. You're doing exactly what I say the minute we leave this place." Johnny stared her down, and V bared her teeth. "I'm not asking."

"Fine," he said, turning towards the Ronin waiting below.

"Fine." She stood up and opened fire.

He had trouble making it down the stairs by the time the Ronin had finally been picked off, the adrenaline carrying them no longer running through their systems. She had one of his arms draped over her shoulders as she guided him down, and he swore at her every step of the way. She swore just as loudly back, angry that things were stuck at this point instead of where they should've been. With him by her side, healthy, ready to get to work on the next target.

Instead they were arguing as he bled and it was too close to that night. His blood had been on her hands once, and she wasn't ready to have it on her again.

V handed him a hoodie she'd picked up from one of the abandoned seats, and made him hold it down over the wound as they drove back to her place. They were already failing nursing 101 she was sure, but the improvised bandage seemed to work well enough, and that was okay with her for now.

The minute they got through the door to her tiny apartment, Johnny let it fall to the floor, and V went straight for the medical bag stashed in her bathroom. Everything came back out with her, and she cracked it open on her dining room table so she could dig out the essentials. With the bandages in hand, she went back to Johnny – still standing in the same spot she'd left him - and tried to tug at his ruined shirt. "Johnny, this needs to come off."

He brushed her hands away. "I'll take care of it."

"Yeah, like you were before?"

He stepped back and when she tried to get closer, he put even more distance between them. "Was doing fine until you tackled me, but the fuck do I know?"

V wavered for a second, then pushed past her guilt anyway. "I'm a fucking idiot, okay? But that's not helping you bleed any slower. Let me help."

"No." Johnny started to walk off and V grabbed his arm. "Get that off of me."

"No," she replied.

"I'm not playing, boss."

"So why do you think I am, eh? Maybe it's not getting through your fucking skull, so let me spell it out for you. I need you up and moving, and not bleeding all over the place due to something as stupid as wounded pride."

He turned back around and stepped right into her space, his face twisted into a sneer. "It ain't fucking pride-"

"Then it's you being a reckless, selfish prick! Didn't you hear me? I said that I needed you, and I am not going to stand by while you bleed to death all over me again. I-I can't do that. Not again." She shook her head as he fell silent, his hands slack by his sides. "I can't do this without you, you know. I can't."

"You could."

"What if I don't want to?" Her throat tightened, and she closed her eyes. "Call me weak, or whatever, but I don't."

He didn't. He didn't say anything at all. V opened her eyes to find him rooted there, some of that same expression from the roof of the strip club present, and she didn't know what to do with it.

So, she avoided it, pulling enough of her anger back to use it. That was territory she could work with, and she drew her mouth into a thin line. "Are we done?"

Gat raised his chin, but nodded.

"Good." She shoved the bandages into his hands and pointed at the couch. "Now hold these and sit the fuck down."

His grip tightened on them, but he took a seat and let her get his shirt off. The stitches had begun to tear, but not too badly and she pulled the kit over to clean them. Johnny didn't say a word as she did so, tensing only a couple of times as she worked, and when she told him to help her wrap the bandages around him he did so without complaint.

The tight expression on his face told her he wanted to do anything but, but she gave him a grateful look anyway as she secured it. "You're lucky my asshole move didn't hurt you too bad."

"Why?"

"Because then I'd have to actually do some doctoring, and I've got a pretty shitty bedside manner."

The corner of his mouth tried to turn up. "I can fucking believe it. You start talking bedpans and I'm throwing your ass out."

"Tut, tut. No need to be rude," she said, smirking. "Though if you still need me to hold your hand from time to time, I wouldn't mind."

"Fuck off." There. Gat was smiling now, and she felt her shoulders relax. "You got anything good to drink around here?"

"Good? No. Decent? Maybe." She wandered over into the kitchen to wash her hands and checked her fridge. Only the cheap beer she'd dipped into the night before stared back at her. Three bottles were left, and she shrugged before pulling two out. "Okay, so borderline decent. That work for you?"

"Eh, whatever."

V cracked them open and handed him one, taking a seat next to him on the lumpy sofa. He made a face, but drank it slowly as she turned the television on to something worthwhile. Or at least tolerable. Bobby and Amber popped up and she glanced over at him for his approval.

Johnny leaned back and chuckled. "You know I don't give a shit, right?"

"Yeah, but I still ask anyway."

"Heh." He took a longer drink, and V decided to limit him to one just so he wouldn't have to manage a hangover too. "Some days you don't make any fucking sense."

Her nails picked at the label on her beer, peeling it off, bit by bit. "And others?"

"You just do."

V chewed on her lip as she switched her attention back to the show and it took her a few seconds to notice him holding out his bottle to her. It didn't click at first, but when it did she lifted hers and let them touch.

The tiny clink that resulted from her mini-toast barely counted as a sound, but it made him grin anyway.