V has a proposal to make. Takes place between SR2 and SR3!

I was hoping to get this idea done in time for Valentine's Day, but once the idea started going it just didn't want to stop. Even if that meant finishing it three months later. Sending out tons of thanks to Autumnyte again for her help, because it's been way too long since I've made an update to this collection. To say there's rust to shake off is a serious understatement, and hopefully it'll only get easier from here.

He had plans today. Plans that involved a six-pack, and time with the rusted Venom he was restoring.

With most of Johnny's morning and part of the afternoon used to replace the brakes and jumpstart the motor, he wasn't far through the checklist he had running, but he still had time. Time enough to head back upstairs to shower and grab one of V's movies, at least. It didn't matter which one. He'd pop it in the old-ass TV/VCR set-up they wheeled around downstairs, and use it to tune out everything else as he worked.

He didn't even have time to think about what he'd do if someone tailed him on the way back down. V intercepted him – something he knew was likely to happen – but didn't ask what was going on, or how he was doing. Just looked him over and jabbed her thumb over her shoulder.

"My office in five."

Then left, leaving him staring after her, both eyebrows raised.

So, he dropped what he was doing and went after her instead. V didn't do short, clipped responses to begin with, and the way she'd shoved her hands into the pockets of her jacket before leaving told him something was off. He just couldn't put his finger on it yet.

Once he entered V's office and spotted the fuzzy object resting in her hands, however, he came to a dead stop. Lowered his glasses even, just to confirm that the largest plush heart he'd ever seen was their fucking shade of purple, and promptly pushed them back up.

He was part-way to the door when V spoke up. "Johnny, come on! You won't even give me a minute to explain this?"

"Explain? I don't have to hear more than two words about it to say no. Or whatever it is you've thrown over there."

Johnny pointed a finger at the items littering her desk. It wasn't all hearts, candy, and roses over there, however, and his eyes narrowed when he saw the fleur-de-lis stamped all over them.

He knew what this was. Had known the marketing move was only going to get worse the further they went down this road, and they were going for it. Full on tearing down the road with no signs of stopping, and while he could deal with most of it in stride, he had a limit.

Photos? Fine. Ads? Worse, but fine. Sparkly shit and cutesy nonsense? Any other day and he might've tried. Now? He wasn't feeling too generous, and judging by V's disappointment she could see it clear as day.

Still, of all the things for his gut to be off-base on, it had to be this. With V, he'd been so sure that-

He pressed his lips into a thin line. "…You know what? Fuck this. I got a layer of dirt and grease on me that needs to be fucking gone, and standing here ain't helping that."

Anyone taking a look at him could tell he'd been doing a round with his car downstairs, and he had half a mind to start peeling off the stained white t-shirt on his way out. The damn thing was starting to grow unbearable, and he pulled at the hem to keep it from sticking to him.

V hurriedly pushed the heart into Pierce's arms, and side-stepped in front of Johnny just as he took another step towards the door. "Forget the fucking merch for a sec and sit down. This meeting's a catch-all, so I'm wedging in all I can. Seriously. Give me five to go through this, and then I'll cut you all loose."

"Five?"

"Five." She crossed her heart, and held up her hand. "I give you my word."

The tug to his sleeve wasn't hard, but he relented, letting her guide him to an empty chair next to Shaundi. She was scrolling quickly through her phone, and glanced up when Johnny took a seat.

"She hook you, too?"

"Sort of," Shaundi admitted, putting her phone away. "While I didn't head this one at all, I might've pushed the boss towards some things more than others, so…yeah. I might be more than a little invested."

"I do remember you pushing pretty hard for things that could act as a show tie-in," Pierce chimed in. "And what was that bit you wanted to go with again? Cause there's jingles, and then there's-"

"Shut up, Pierce." She tightly crossed her arms in front of her and fumed.

Johnny angled his head towards Pierce. "I wasn't even going to ask you."

"For real?"

Johnny thumbed his nose before crossing his arms. "Yeah, you like this kinda shit. To the point that I think you'd do it for free if any of these assholes said they'd give your tape a play."

"Man, fuck you."

There was a kick to the leg of his chair, and V gave him a warning look. "Quit it. We're here to throw some ideas around and play nice. You want to be an asshole, do it on your own time. For now, we're here to talk things over. Civilly."

V must've heard his snort, because a second later, her eyes were trying to burn a hole in the side of his face. Her needle-point squint told him she was focusing damn hard on it, too.

"Nice? I don't do nice. But you've got your five. Make it good, boss."

"I can't make any promises, but hopefully you'll get a kick out of it on some level," she replied, leaning down to give his shoulder a small pat. "Well, other than the one I just gave you, but you get the idea."

The parting comment made her lean in close, crossing into his space enough for him to catch some faint whiff of whatever citrus thing she'd dipped into earlier that day. Shampoo, body wash, it didn't matter, but the scent made him turn his head to follow her path just as she stepped away.

That left both her and Pierce at the front of the room, and once she had everyone's undivided attention, she cleared her throat.

"I know this wasn't planned or scheduled, but time's ticking down, and I'm sick of waffling on it, so first order of business, finalizing our plans for February. We've got a grand total of eleven days left in January to decide on any of this, and while I do tend to cut things close, this is a little ridiculous, so…" She raised her hand. "We touched on this in December, and haven't said two words since, but all in favor of our Mardi Gras strip club crawl, followed by the big-ass bash down at Tee N' Ay?"

Pierce and Shaundi both raised their hands in agreement. V's eyebrow rose when his hand didn't follow suit, but after a minute of watching her face scrunch up in irritation, Johnny raised his too.

"The DJ's still on for that, right, Pierce?" she asked, once she was satisfied with their answer.

"Hell, yeah. We've had people in and out of it for a solid month now, and it's looking like it did the first day it opened. Now, the sound system's not up to our usual standard, but by the time we're done, even the downtown'll know what's happening across the bay."

"That's just what I want to hear," she replied, grinning. "That place was getting creaky as hell, and the last thing anyone needs is to fall through the top floor mid-dance onto the stage below. …And the owner's still not hearing anything about our offer to take it off their hands?"

Pierce shook his head. "Not even a little."

"Dammit." She sighed, placing her hands on her hips. "It was worth a shot, at least. Anyway, point number two on the ol' agenda. Superbowl. Yo, or no?"

Johnny tilted his thumb down, and Shaundi started to aim hers up, but Pierce tucked the heart under his arm and handed V a folder.

Her thumb had started to turn up, but she stopped midway through. "What's this?"

"You've only brought up one of the largest non-holiday related events in the country. Anything less than a binder full of ideas covering this would be lazy. But yeah," Pierce replied, smoothing out his coat, "I've got a few pitches in mind."

"A few?" She flipped it open and her eyes went wide. "Good lord, Pierce, this is practically alphabetized. We've got vastly different definitions of 'a few' here."

"Hey, you give the word, and I'm all-in, boss. I'll bring in the mock ups and we'll talk TV deals, maybe even a half-time show-"

"And this?" She held up a photo of a Skeeters announcement and Pierce snatched it away.

"Uh, that's…that's a little side project I've been working on. Guess it got mixed up with the other papers."

V looked Johnny's way, and both flicked their eyebrows up. "Uh-huh."

"Yeah, uh-huh. But we won't be getting into that, because we've got other things to cover, remember?"

Her mouth was already halfway to a smirk, but that remark brought it all the way to the surface. "Sure thing, Pierce. We'll talk your fancy chess club later. Now, on to point number three-"

Johnny crossed his arms and peered at V over the top of his glasses. "Yo, boss. This is all really fucking important and all, but if you're going to get into this Valentine's shit, just do it already."

"I was working on a careful lead up into it, I'll have you know."

"And even if you were up there doing a motherfucking dance number, I'd be saying the same thing. Just get it out there so I can sign the fucking papers already. Stamp 'em. Whatever."

He watched her face fall, but V puffed herself back up. "We said we'd get into holidays. I don't remember you complaining about this whenever we talk Halloween or New Year's."

"Halloween's Halloween. You know that better than anyone, boss. But New Year's lets me fire missiles off of the roof if I'm feeling it."

"Uh, I wouldn't bet on that being such a solid thing anymore, Gat."

"The hell do you mean by that?"

"After the blimp incident last year they might not be so keen on that."

"Blimp?"

"I see you've decided to conveniently forget the whole imploding, burning, yelling, and almost crashing it into the Marina bit?" she replied with a wince.

He thought it over for a second when it clicked.

The entire marina was lit up, ready to call in the new year, and emblazoned in purple. It was missing a few things, but he couldn't complain. Not with the company he had, and not with the missile launcher resting in his hands.

"I got this," he said, aiming the missile at the spot where the skeet was supposed to fly.

They'd hit every other spectacle that night, going for parties and all the fireworks they could assemble, but when he suggested they come up with another way to top it, V was all over it. Yeah, she was buzzed to hell and back, but skeet shooting was legit. Even with rockets involved.

He'd hit three in a row already, but he wasn't going to consider stopping before he hit a solid five.

V wandered over, her steps unsteady and punched his arm. "You get all of them, and maybe I'll have to admit that your tendency to blow our problems away is actually useful."

Her grin was hard to catch out of the corner of his eye, but he made sure to return it. "You know you love it."

"Just shoot the damn thing. The suspense is killing me, and the fire department's starting to get bored."

"Keep your shirt on. Or not. Both work for me."

The large clay disk shot up, and he trailed the shot until he was positive he was ready. The wind picked up just as his finger applied enough pressure to set it off, and it flew. The arc was high, however, and it clipped the disk, spinning out only to make contact with the sparkling purple blimp.

It ignited in a brilliant blaze, and even he had to squint at it from behind his shades.

"Huh." He leaned back in his chair as V stared at him intently, and he gave her a shrug. "They'll cool off."

"Jesus, Johnny. A little light property damage is all fine and dandy, but that was a bit much." She pinched her fingers together, and made a face. "Just a little. So, we're aiming for a way to celebrate the holiday and get our name out, minus the collateral damage." Her eyes cut to Pierce. "Care to do the honors, or shall I?"

"Can't let you have all the fun, boss," he replied, reaching for the sheet of glossy paper on the poster stand. "Valentine's is competitive, so we're already entering into a field that's a tough nut to crack, but tough ain't impossible, so we were able to cut a pretty solid deal to make a break into the market."

V waggled her eyebrows. "And if there's one thing that brings to mind the kind of warm romantic spirit you can't do Valentine's without, it's these things."

Pierce flipped to the first slide in his presentation, and Johnny stared at it for a good minute before pointing at the heart-shaped objects on the screen. "That? We're here about that?"

"Motherfucking chalk-covered bundles of goodness," V said, sweeping her hands towards them. "Candy hearts are a staple for Valentine's, but don't exactly scream 'Saints' as they are, so…"

The next poster flew off of the stand, revealing another set of shapes. Fleur-de-lis, or as close as the mold could get to them. "You can't be fucking serious."

"She's totally fucking serious," Shaundi replied with amusement.

"What? You can't deny the fleur's a fun touch, and we've actually got a semi-legit business model that's growing by the day, so we need to keep on finding other ways to break into the market. We've got clothes and fragrances, sure. Music, and events, like our monthly Saints bash up at HQ, and our charity drives, but we need to push for things like this, too."

Johnny kept on staring at her until she aimed her eyes elsewhere.

"And I might actually like these things, okay? I don't eat them, but they're cute, and getting to put out our own unique set's too good of a chance to pass up."

"Sure thing, boss," he said, feeling his mouth twist.

"Anyway," V started, making it a point to avoid looking back at him, "we've got our usual tried and true sayings, which we paid a cut to include from the original manufacturer, but we're still going through our new additions."

Pierce changed the slide, and a list of bulleted sayings filled the screen. Greetings, pick-up lines, catchphrases, references. Each category had a subcategory, and V and Pierce made sure to point them all out.

Johnny made it through three of them before feeling his eyes glaze over.

This shit had always been more of Eesh's thing, and sure, he'd bought a fucking dozen or two for her years back, because she loved the damn things so much. But after crunching his way through a box, only a few beers could wash the taste out. Something he wasn't too keen on repeating.

So, instead of thinking critically about the shit they were proposing, he settled for watching V make air quotes while going through the different phrases. She drew her fingers through the air as she mimed each saying, and by the time she hit the bottom of the list, he was completely out of touch with whatever the hell was going on.

Not that it really seemed to matter much. He should've brought a beer with him. Two beers. Maybe even a magazine, because the last one he got in the mail showed some real promise with the engine rebuilds it was proposing-

"Hey."

V waved her gloved hand in front of his face, her eyebrows furrowed, and Johnny blinked a few times to clear the haze.

"Yeah?"

"Do you need me to start tossing popcorn or paper airplanes your way, because you've been pretty out of it for the last five minutes, man." She grabbed a heart from the table next to her, and held it up between her fingers. "I was this close to flicking this at you, by the way."

"Five? That ain't too bad."

The candy heart disappeared into her pocket. "It is if I'm looking for your opinion on this."

"I got the general idea of what you're going on about, but come on, V. Do I look like the kind of motherfucker that spends his free time thinking about any of this?"

"No, but, come on." Her shoulders slumped, and when disappointment flashed in her eyes, he sat up straighter. "I got clever puns, show throwbacks, and fake cheesy song lyrics out of these two," she said, gesturing towards Shaundi and Pierce. "You've gotta give me something. I'm not asking for high art here. Just something that's uniquely…you."

Shaundi spoke up. "Boss, you know we could always go back to the original idea, right? Set up a suggestion box at Planet Saints, sort through them to pick the winners, and post them. With my show, we could even do a small ad at the end. See if that could drive up interest."

"That'll get the word out. Hell, if we're moving in that direction, why not do the radio too?" Pierce suggested. "Get the boss to do a bit good enough to give the public the basic rundown, and it'll take off from there."

"And we air that in one to two minute blocks," Shaundi added, thinking it over. "That should get us a few rounds on the major stations, and if enough interest is generated we can even try the TV networks."

"Wait a sec, but I think I might've misheard you two." V pressed her hands to her chest. "Me?"

"Yeah, you. Sure Shaundi and I can get on the air, do our thing, and do it well, but you're the boss. ...Boss." Pierce laid a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "And a few words from you can get the crowds going, if we know how to direct it."

The faces V kept on pulling were getting better by the second. "Yeah, I don't think so."

Johnny chuckled. "What was it you were doing again during that one radio ad for Leather and Lace, boss?" He made a low sound in the back of his throat. "Asking anyone who's anyone in mood for getting laced up that night to head on over?" His voice went deeper, and sure. Maybe he was taking it a bit far, but her voice rang out all too clearly in his mind. "And maybe if you're feeling it, you'd do the honors yourself?"

Her face went red in record time. Her hands hit the table, making Pierce jump, and she aimed a look at him caught between livid and mortified. "First of all, kindly shut the fuck up. We don't need that kind of a refresher. And second, it was a good idea at the time. L and L's got good stock, and a great selection, and…I might get discounts here and there for being a supporter. So sue me."

Letting out an uneven breath, she stiffly straightened her posture, but wasn't anywhere near composed. Gat supposed the smirk he was giving her wasn't helping, but when she went red like that, he found it hard to stop.

"You're such a prick. Jesus H., man." She threw up her hands and turned towards Pierce. "Going to back to your idea, though, fine. I'll do it, but we'll keep any and all dramatic readings of this shit to a minimum, got it?"

"Hey, if the people like it-"

"Min-i-mum," V repeated, pointing a finger at Pierce. "I can only be paid so much to look like a fucking dork to our target demographic, and that's seriously pushing it."

Johnny snickered. "That's nothing, boss."

"I thought I told you to shut up?" She opened her mouth to say something else, peering at him as she mulled it over, but after a second pursed her lips. "…Actually, scratch that. That would get you off of the hook, and you still owe me some phrases, remarks, and suggestions, jerk."

"Well, maybe I don't have whatever the fuck it is you're looking for. I've told you once. I think I told you twice. You wanna make me go for three?"

"Then try. Please."

There was no teasing there. No aggravation, or frustration. Just a request, framed in a way that left him speechless for a good minute.

She paused for a moment, clearly awaiting a response, then crossed her arms before pressing him further. "Well?"

A smile crept across Johnny's face, and he decided to go for the impossible after all. "If it were up to me, I'd grind them up and see if we could make some funny colored explosive shit. If that's a no, just slap a knife on one."

"A knife?"

"What? That ain't something that's uniquely me?"

Pierce cringed. "Uh, I don't think that'll send the message we're looking for, man."

V blinked over at Johnny once. Twice. Then stood up straight as she pressed a hand to her mouth. "…No, Pierce, I think we could work with this. The knife bit, not the latent lethality of a bunch of small objects," she clarified, waving her other hand. "It's all in how you spin it. Knife to meet you? You're a sharp one?" Her own grin started to peek out from behind her fingers, and she batted her eyes as the next words left her mouth. "Cutting edge? Gather up enough of these and we'll have a good theme going."

"Knife puns aren't exactly what people swoon over, boss."

"No, but you do have to admit that in terms of suggestions, Johnny's was on point, Pierce."

"…Fine. We'll throw them in, see how the focus group likes them," Pierce conceded, "provided you aren't there to keep throwing suggestions their way. One pun's all and good, but you can't just keep on lobbing them, boss." V started to pout, but Pierce continued before she could. "And don't forget why we're bothering with any of this to begin with. We gotta capture and embody the spirit of the holiday all in one neat little package."

"And the easiest way to do that is to send as sappy a message as you can get. Yeah, yeah." V used her fingers to frame a heart over her chest. "From the heart, of course."

The three hummed in approval, and Johnny raised an eyebrow. "So, we good?"

"Sort of." The room went silent, and she cleared her throat. "Now I know this wasn't on the agenda," she said, walking over to her desk, "but I figured I could shoehorn this in. See what you guys' feelings would be on, oh, say…putting more of the old marketing blitz to some good use?"

The small toy she held up was in their colors, but he'd recognize an O-Ring anywhere. When no one even tried to speak up, V let her gleeful grin do all the talking. "Someone's apparently not a fan of free funbags."

Johnny stood up, and went straight for the door.

V didn't even give him a minute's lead before running after him. He heard her boots skid on the floor behind him, and slowed down when he heard her voice carrying down the hallway.

"Johnny? Johnny, hey! Hold on."

He didn't stop until she swept in front of him and held up a hand.

"Look, I know it's bullshit-" Her fingers hooked the back of his shirt when he tried to move past her. "Gat. Give me a chance, here."

"I gave you five. If you wanted more than that, you should've fucking said so."

Gat began to move again, taking decent strides to pass her again, and she remained in place. "Since when are you so damn literal? Seriously," she huffed, "I thought this would be a fun detour, not something that'd piss you off."

"It's silly, inane shit. Things that you don't associate with being a motherfucking Saint, okay?" he shot, rounding on her. "Purple candies with our brand on 'em ain't exactly sending the message we should be. Going a year or two back we wouldn't even be fucking talking about this. We'd be dealing with cars, weapons, and tags. Stuff you know I'd back in a heartbeat."

He lowered his voice and leaned in, making sure they were as close to level as he could get. "But silly shit aside, you'd know if I was pissed off."

She raised her chin with a smile, but that didn't do a thing to remove the hesitant look she was giving him. "I know. Just trying to feel me out, huh?"

"You ain't making it easy, but yeah."

"All right, I'll give you that. And I get that we need to keep up the deals and product we've established in the past, but I'm not kidding when I say that…that I'm okay with us moving in a more legit direction. You know, putting out more things that might help rather than hurt?" She chewed on her lip, and set her hands on her hips. "And while this is silly, it won't all be."

A feeling settled in his gut at her words, but he shook it off. "You're right it won't. Long as we remember who we are, and what we do best."

"Gat, we've got construction companies wanting to request our services due to how damn good we are at bringing buildings down. We've broken records."

She sobered up when she caught the dead serious look he was giving her. But he let it slide, chuckling at the memory of the last place they'd been able to trash in full. "But that's the kind of shit you like. Don't deny it." That brought her smile back in full, and he let himself focus on that instead. "What? You trying to?"

V circled him until she was facing his back, and she reached out. Her fingers grazed the thin cotton of his shirt, the contact warm as she slid her hand along his lower back, and he angled his head to get a better look at her over his shoulder.

"No, not exactly. I just want you to think this over a little." She was playing with the line of the pocket on his jeans now, with her teeth caught on her lower lip, and he followed every motion. "And it'll help if we ever decide to dip back into the heavier stuff. Like private jets. Helicopters. Light artillery, and the like."

Johnny rolled his eyes, and while she didn't see it, he had a feeling she knew. At least enough to roll her own in turn.

"Fine, fine. I won't keep you here any longer. But if you come up with anything later," she replied as she stepped away, "you'd better share."

"Keep it short, and maybe I will."

She'd skipped most of the way down the hall by that point, but her pout didn't last. "No promises, Gat. None whatsoever."

After that she was gone, ducking around the corner leading back to her office.

He waited, staring after her for a second longer than intended, but nothing happened. There was no flash of red. No silly grin as she poked her head back out to add another thing on to her statement. Nothing.

Mildly disappointed, he shoved a hand into his pocket to dig for a cigarette. He'd snagged a pack off of V earlier in the week – a fact she was none too pleased with, but a promise was a promise – and figured she wouldn't miss a few if he decided to dip into it. Not that the urge hit all that often, but it was digging at him now.

"…The fuck?" A small object was tucked next to it, resting against the crumpled cardboard of the pack. Excess shit wasn't a thing he made a habit of keeping in his pockets, so he quickly pulled it out to examine it.

Sitting in the middle of his palm was a small purple heart.

He hadn't reached for the things once during the meeting. So, where did this…?

The short tugs at his jeans pocket. One flick of her fingers, just one stray tap of her nails against the fabric and he was one candy heart 'richer'. No fucking wonder she kept on giving him a smile like that.

Johnny rolled the candy between his fingers, before pocketing it.

If you come up with anything later, you'd better share.

No promises, he thought, as he made his way to the nearest shower. None whatsoever.