V's got a lot to learn. When she wanders in the day after her canonization she gets an intro to just how much. SR1!

The next day she couldn't even breathe without having it hurt. This was what she'd been afraid of when she'd fallen into bed without even bothering to put a bottle of painkillers within reach, and paid for it dearly with each step towards the kitchen.

They kicked in long after the water in the shower turned cold, and by the time she made it to the church she'd started feeling human again instead of a side of badly tenderized beef. None of the people from the day before were hanging around the front to her relief, and she poked her head inside the church to try to find anyone familiar to talk to.

"Uh, Troy around?" she asked one of the guys sitting in the cracked pews. His Skeeters jersey stood out in the flood of purple, leaving her staring at it without meaning to.

He was tossing his lighter up into the air to catch it, and stopped long enough to point off to the right. "Yeah, he's in his usual place."

"Which is...?"

"Shit, the office. Well, one of the offices. Might want to knock before you go in, though."

She grinned. "Cool. Thanks, man."

The path to the back didn't have many people lingering there, and she shoved her hands in her pockets as she poked her head around the corner. Sure enough, the guy was right. Troy was reading over a set of papers, his brow drawn, and she knocked three times on the doorframe before she lost her nerve.

He lowered the papers and she waved. "Yo."

"Hey." He smiled around his cigarette and exhaled a thin stream of smoke. "Didn't think I'd see you back so soon."

"Well, you want to get shit done you've got to come in. Just like any other job. How's the lip?"

"Stings, but it's not bad." Troy's eyes swept over her as she walked in, and V noticed the way his smile faded when they settled on the bruises. "How're you holding up?"

"Been better. Been worse too, but I'd hate to see the other guys. I wasn't exactly trying to be careful when we got into it."

"Canonizations can get pretty bad."

"I bet, but I'm cool. They wanted to fuck me up, but at least I made them work for it first."

He gave her a wry look and put his papers down as he continued to examine her. When he reached out to touch the bridge of her nose she nearly jumped. "Still tender, eh?"

"...Yeah. That's putting it fucking lightly."

His fingers handled her gingerly, applying hints of pressure, but never enough to make it hurt. The cigarette in his mouth moved as he pursed his lips, angling up and down as she watched it. "Breathing fine?"

"Mostly."

"You on anything right now?"

"Over the counter junk. Nothing serious. I kinda wish I had something to take the edge off, but I don't think going for coke would be the best thing at the moment."

That got him to raise his eyebrows up and down. "Probably tear you up more."

"Maybe, but I'd feel fucking fantastic before the nosebleed would kick in. That's almost worth it, right?"

He snorted and leaned back against the desk. "So you say, kid. But if anything changes you get back to me, got it? Hate to see you put out by something like that when we could've caught it early."

"Yeah, yeah." She stepped back and touched her nose herself, wincing. "I'll take extra care not to get punched in the face again anytime soon. Scout's honor."

"Sure. So, work?"

"Yeah. Thought you'd be the guy to talk to about that."

He tilted his head to the side and pinched his cigarette between his fingers. "What did you have in mind?"

"Uh, not-" Her mind went straight from the brawl to the weight of the handgun as she brought it up to aim it, and a chill settled over her. The next word caught, and she lowered her eyes as her hands went into her pockets. "Not much. Didn't really think that through before hobbling over here."

"You good with cars?"

"I can be."

The relaxed expression he'd had before she had fumbled was still there, but his eyes didn't leave hers for a second. "I've got a guy that's been wanting some help. He's had his eye on a few cars in particular, but hasn't had much luck getting them. Sound good?"

Her nod was quick. "Oh yeah. You got a name or number?"

"Everything but his fucking shoe size. Could probably get that in three, though," he said, reaching over the desk to grab a small notepad. "Hook up with him and he'll have you picking cars up in no time."

He ripped out the sheet and she took it, noting the address and number. "Cool. Thanks, man."

"No problem. Should keep you busy for a while."

And away from smoking guns. For now.

The small smile she gave wasn't one of her best, and his dropped again. "You okay?"

She started rocking back on her heels. "Yeah, I'm good. Thought we went over that already."

"A lot went down yesterday. It's okay to admit it."

"...I know." She stopped moving, and almost immediately felt the tension sink in again. The uneasy feeling settling in her stomach made her fingers clench, and she felt her pack of cigarettes begin to give. "It's there, but not. Like a buzzing in the back of your head during a bad hangover. I'm working on it."

Troy nodded, his cigarette going back to his mouth. "And you'd like me to fuck off, right?"

That made her hesitate, but he didn't challenge her or push harder. Only waited as he exhaled a smooth line of smoke. She wondered if he'd burn through a whole pack just to give her time to answer. "Knee-jerk reflex, yes. Others...don't know yet."

He exhaled again, and she found it hard not to follow the motion. "But you'd like to get the hell out of here, right?"

"...Yeah," she admitted, see-sawing back and forth on her feet.

"Noted. I'll fuck off." The corner of his mouth went up, and he handed her an envelope. "When you get to Miguel's hand him this. It's old business, but I think he's been waiting for it long enough."

"Will do."

She started to fold it and stopped abruptly, biting her lip as she tried to smooth it back out. He laughed, the sound surprisingly light coming from him, and her eyes darted back up. "Don't worry about it. It's an old bet. Nothing but cash. You could fold it into a crane and it'd be fine."

"No shit?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.

"No shit. Might not want to go too overboard there, though. Probably piss him off to have to shanghai his earnings out of that."

"Good to know." Folding it in two, she slipped it into her pocket and resisted the urge to fold it up further.

"The list of cars he's going to give you are going to be all over the place. Some common, some hot. You'll need to move fast when you're messing with the wiring." She nodded slowly. "...Which you haven't done before, have you?"

"Not well. One time I lost my keys and couldn't start it without yanking its guts out. Nearly took out the radio. I think the wipers were also freaking out, and-that's not exactly earning me your vote of confidence. Uh, ignore that."

She winced, but he didn't seem phased. "We'll work on it. I want you to talk to a guy named Sam. He's with Julius's crew, so you'll be rolling with him soon enough. He'll run you through the basics. Just look for the Skeeters jersey. He's the only one that keeps up with them."

Skeeters? The guy flipping his lighter in the church came to mind, the signature colors of the university all over him, and nodded. Talk about a coincidence. "Should probably hit him up before Miguel, eh?"

"Your call there, but it would keep you from drawing too much attention."

"Ah, right. The cops would pick the time that I'm turning my mark into a rave party to grab me. I'm sure that's not fun to clean up after, eh?"

He chuckled. "Nope."

"I'll make sure to cover my ass, then." With nothing else to say, she started to drift towards the exit, but took four steps and had to stop. One last thought had kicked in, and kicked in strong. "Troy?"

"Yeah?"

"Thanks," she said, turning back. "For the other night."

Troy froze for a second, the trail of smoke coming from his cigarette hanging in the air. He waved it off, moving it, but not clearing it entirely. "You don't have to do that."

"No, but I want to. Kind of fucking rude if I don't, because..." The gun flashed in her mind, coming up in a smooth arc, and V felt her mouth go dry. "Well, because I'm here to bug you, and not dead in that alley."

"I mean it. You don't have to, kid."

"No, but you didn't have to help me either. Could've just kept on walking like any other sane person would've. So, thanks." Holding up the address, she tapped it with her fingers as she left. "Let me show you it was worth it."

"When was the last time you said you did this?"

"Couple of years ago." She waved the wire cutters back and forth between the wires floating in front of her, and Sammy gave a heavy sigh from his spot in the passenger seat. "Hey, it's a work in progress."

He leaned over the console and pointed at the snarled mess. "Yeah, a shitty one. You move through them too fast and don't spend enough time thinking about it. I already told you what you need to point out and isolate."

"And I put them aside!"

"Not all of them. I thought you had this when we were in the other ride?"

"I did. Or at least I thought I did."

"Could've run through it a second time. No problem there, girl."

V dropped the cutters and tapped her fingers on the floorboards, hating the feeling of embarrassment settling over her. "Yeah, you could've. I guess I got a little excited about getting my hands dirty."

"They'll get covered soon enough. You want me to get you through the rest of this one?"

"You mean it's not completely fucked?"

"Hell no, but it would've been if you'd nicked the wires in front of you."

"Shit." She idly chewed on the unlit cigarette in her mouth and threw the cutters onto the driver's seat. "Get down here before I fry something."

"Like yourself?"

"...I would."

They had burned half the day in the back of Sammy's garage. As one of the few Saints with space, he had the real estate to store cars if anyone was on the move, or entertain anyone with illusions of moving outside of their basic skill set like her.

He had been waiting around for Julius when she had approached him again, but told her that he had some time to spare. Just had to talk to the bossman, and then they could meet up later in the day. She'd warned him about her initial attempt, but he'd brushed it off. 'No one gets it perfect on the first try.'

That had been hours ago, and V wondered if he was seriously having second thoughts. After getting her through the lock with few issues, she'd fallen apart when the technical shit came out. His good mood had changed to something much more pessimistic, but he hadn't booted her out yet. Facts like that always gave her hope, but every time she slipped her little promise popped up. Reminded her that for a promise it'd come off more as a boast.

She hadn't even seen Miguel's face yet, and she felt like she'd put both of her feet in her mouth.

"Watch this." Sammy had taken her place, and gestured towards the wire in his hands. "You following?"

"I'm on it, don't worry." She shook off the niggling voice picking at her, and stuck close enough to see everything without crowding him.

He went through the motion, checked it twice, then let her make the cut. "Good, now you want to try starting it?"

She took in a deep breath and retraced the last fifteen minutes of their lesson. "Why not?"

It took a couple of tries, but it came to life, the engine sputtering in spite of her best efforts. Sammy grinned, and she wiped the back of her forehead with her hand. "About fucking time, eh? I'd run you through another, but I'd like to get to sleep before three. No offense."

"None taken, man. Thanks for putting up with me. You're totally going on my list, though."

His grin faltered, and V tried not to snicker. "List?"

"Of people I get to bug the hell out of when I'm screwed. Cool?"

"Sure, girl. Whatever gets you going," he said, relaxing. A sharp jingle cut through the air as he fumbled for his pocket, and she leaned back against the frame as he took the call. "Hey, what's up?" He nodded a few times, tilting his head back and forth when the woman on the other end kept on going, and stretched. "Yeah, that could work. Give me ten and I'll be right over. Nah, just showing one of the new girls the ropes. Simple shit."

Yeah, real simple, she mused, wiping her hands off on her shirt. The dark streaks stood out against the red, and she groaned.

Sammy caught her eye when she switched to wiping them off on her jeans and winked. "Hungry?"

Saints were strange. She had seen them off and on over the last couple of years, but never had a chance to get a close enough look to reach her own conclusions. Each gang seemed to attract a certain type, the racers, the ladder-hoppers, the close-knit families. The Saints? They drew anyone and everyone.

And with this in mind they seemed to welcome any that had shed blood in their name with open arms. It was fucking bizarre to feel that kind of pride being directed at her, but after beating the shit out of a few of their established members it was refreshing not to have to wait for someone to get back at her.

It'd thrown her for a few seconds, but the guy that had actually broken his nose during her canonization seemed impressed, and when he offered her a fist-bump she'd gladly returned it. Another bought her a drink after she shared an amended tale of her time with the VKs the day before, and Sammy himself pushed a flaming shot her way to celebrate the fact that she hadn't been electrocuted.

It was a lot to take in. A lot to get comfortable with, and once she'd settled in a lot to enjoy.

Vick - one of Johnny's girls - helped her keep her balance along with Sammy when they stumbled outside after their bender, and the rest of the group brought up the rear as they cheered loudly.

"You guys are nuts," V slurred, tugging at the back of Sammy's shirt. "How many shots was that?"

"Enough." He tugged her arm so that he had a better grip on it, and helped take more of her weight off of Vick. "Don't tell me you're done already?"

"Hell no. Just a little winded. Give me time."

"Sure, honey. Just give you a nightcap and we'll be good, right?" Vick joked. The blonde gave her a giant wink, and V tried not to focus too much on the shade of red on her lips.

The hiccup that cut through her left the three laughing as they kept on walking. "Okay, maybe we've all had too much. I don't know. What do you say, Sam?"

"I say you're a fucking lightweight, that's what-"

One shot cut through the air. Then two. Vick had her gun out before V could spin around, and Sammy held onto her tight as they tried to spot the shooter.

That's when the yelling started. "Cops!"

"Oh, fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck," Sammy stammered as he looked to Vick.

She pointed towards the street stretching behind them, and V tried to blink against the way the streetlights glinted off of her. "Grab a car and get out. I'll be right behind you."

V felt him pull at her, and they broke into a run that had her heart hammering in her chest. Everything swayed, tilting as she tried to wake herself up, and she didn't care where she was going. Only that they were that much further from the gunfire behind them.

They flew down an alley, and once they were on the other side he sidled up to the first car within reach a worn Komodo. He slapped at the glass and reached into his pockets. "Okay, give me a second-"

The old pipe was in her hands before he'd finished his sentence. He ducked away when she struck the window the first time, then shot back to her side when it gave. She let the pipe fall to the ground and waited for the alarms to kick in. They didn't.

"Sorry, man. No time to play it safe!" she gasped, trying to catch her breath as she popped the lock. "They're way too fucking close for comfort. Can you get the rest?"

"Can I? Just get the hell in the car!"

She climbed across the console to get into the passenger seat, her head starting to spin. His swearing filled the small space as she let her eyes close, and she took to counting breaths as he worked. "You can do it, Sam. No sweat," she murmured, one of her hands on the gun stored in the back of her jeans.

"Right, right. We're fucked. So fucked."

"Hey, we're cool. You're cool. I've got total faith in you."

"That's fucking reassuring."

"You'd prefer it was me down there? I'd rather keep the cops off of you, but you want me there I'll hop on down in a jiff." She heard the engine start, and opened her eyes in time to see him close the door. "Oh, fuck yes. You're amazing."

"Keep on talking, girl. I'm going to need that fucking praise to get us out."

Her gun came out as she kept on going, and when they tore down the street she didn't care that she was close to reciting sonnets about his fucking jersey. They were gone. Safe. She slumped in her seat and laid her gun on her lap, humming as the quiet settled over them.

"You awake over there?"

Her eyes were glued to the beige ceiling hanging over them, and she felt him nudge her shoulder. "Mmm."

"We're going over doors again tomorrow."

"Mmm?"

"Yeah, because that's not going to fly every time."

"No, probably not." She yawned and closed her eyes again. "Don't think that would impress Troy much either."

She heard Sammy chuckle. "No, don't think that would work on him."

"Damn." She snapped her fingers. "I'm going to have to seriously step up my game then."