So this idea won't get out of my head. This is going to be a series of one-shots revolving around the Boss and the lieutenants. Lots of dialogue/character stuff! It starts in the first Saints Row game and will probably progress through all three of them.

This one is set just after the mission to rescue Johnny when he's captured by the Vice Kings.

"You have the worst fucking taste in music, kid," said Johnny.

Kate slid her eyes towards him, hands on the wheel as she pulled away from the kerb. "See," she said. "First thing I was expecting to hear out of your mouth was 'hey, thanks for saving me,' maybe a 'that was a close one'."

She caught a glimpse of white teeth next to her. "Oh, don't think I'm ungrateful, kid. I'll even throw in a 'nice job' if you're that upset about it."

"Well that's sweet of you," she said. "But I think the moment's passed." She looked down at Johnny's leg, at the blood soaking the buckshot-peppered fabric. "How's your knee?" she asked, turning her eyes back to the road. She was heading down Adept Way, back to the Row. The sun was slowly setting, turning the sky purple. She smiled, faintly.

"Fuckin' hurts," said Johnny. "But – eh. Had worse."

"Really?" she asked, her brow furrowing. "Looks kind of-"

"Yeah, it's fine," He waved a hand lazily. "Most of the shot's still in there. Not like a bullet straight through the kneecap. Now that hurts like a motherfucker."

"You need me to take you to a doctor or anything?" Kate's eyes were drawn to the wound, caught on the dark red stain. It was mostly dried, now, but his leg was almost saturated.

"Yeah, there's a guy we normally use," he said. "I'll give you directions when we get closer. But stop trying to distract me. What I'm concerned about, right now, is this fuckin' song, on this fuckin' radio station. The Faction. What are you, fifteen?"

"What are you, thirty-eight?" Kate retorted, a little too defensively. "I like this song. And this station."

"This guy sings like a girl," said Johnny. "And does this song have fuckin' violins in it?"

She narrowed her eyes. "Look, Gat," said Kate. "Get off my dick. My car, my rules."

Another grin. "It's 'Gat' now?"

She couldn't stop her own smile from spreading over her face. "If you're holding out for 'Mr Gat', you're dreaming."

He laughed. "That's not quite my style. And is this dinky little Socialite actually your car?"

"It has four doors," she snapped, actually offended. Whatever he said, he seemed to touch a nerve. "And a decent top speed. That's all I fucking want in a car. I can drop you off here if you'd rather not be seen in it. I'm sure, with that knee, it'd only take you eight hours or so."

"So," he said, drawing the word out. "Where'd you think you'd be right now if I hadn't stabbed Green in the foot, huh?"

The retort she'd been already planning died on her lips. It was replaced with a sinking feeling of shame.

"Uh," she said, and for the first time since she'd arrived at Green's apartment she really looked at him. There was blood crusted around a split on his lip, and he had a black eye behind his sunglasses. An angry red bruise ran the length of one of his high cheekbones. His smile had cracked the split open again. He lifted his hand to wipe away the trickle of blood from his chin.

She bit her lip. "You okay?" she asked cautiously, remembering the full clip he'd emptied into Green's body as it lay lifeless on the floor. "They didn't-"

"Like I said, kid," he said, a faint hint of menace threading through his tone, "I'm fine."

She was silent, for a moment, watching the road Kate looked uneasily over her shoulder, watching for a flash of yellow she was sure was coming. "You think we got away okay?"

Johnny glanced in the wing mirror. "Let's hope so, because you're not evading anyone by driving ten miles under the speed limit."

The jibe defused the tension, and she smiled. "Dick," she said, then, "sorry I didn't get Tanya."

"Oh," laughed Johnny. "Don't be. If you'd killed that bitch without me getting a shot in, I'd be fuckin' pissed. I got something special planned for her."

She smiled, but didn't say anything. As she turned onto the bridge, she could see the sun, a dim golden circle through the evening smog that hung over the city. She pulled the sun visor down to shield her eyes.

"Looking forward to it," she said.

She watched as he leaned his head back against the headrest and closed his eyes.

"You, um, want to get some Freckle Bitch's?" she asked. "Guess I'm buying."

"Fuck, yes," he said, not moving. "Green's not known for his hospitality, know what I mean?"

"Yeah," she said. "Think so." She indicated and began to turn into the other lane.