Only in America

When she was thirty-two, America Elena Ortega, Chairwoman of the Saints-Ultor Media Group and the most powerful woman in the United States, learned that some things never get easier.

It was just after four in the morning, and the Saints' Steelport penthouse was finally quiet. Strippers and Saints were passed out on every available surface, and only America was left standing on the balcony, looking out over the city.

Her city.

"Boss?"

She spun on her heel, hand automatically going for the Kobra tucked into the back of her pants, to find Shaundi with her hands raised.

"Easy."

As Shaundi settled next to her agaisnt the railing, America's shoulders slumped. "Can't sleep?"

"You either?"

America chuckled. "I never sleep anymore. It's like I'm just waiting for the next big fucking disaster to fall out of the sky."

"I know the feeling."

America glanced sidelong at Shaundi, staring out at the city in profile, face still and calm for the first time in forever.

"Can I ask you something without you shooting me?"

The brunette chuckled. "If you have to ask that? No."

America frowned. "Were you in love with Gat?"

"What?" Shaundi blinked, then turned to face her. "Why would you say that?"

"I just thought it might explain what the fuck happened to you."

Shaundi's eyes narrowed. Then they went hard, and she shoved herself back from the railing. "Oh no, you know what? Fuck you! Fuck you, how dare you!"

"There! Right there! You didn't used to be angry at everything all the time, Shaundi."

"Don't you dare! I have been trying so hard to just survive all this shit, and that's not good enough for you? Fuck you!"

Shaundi swung wide, and America caught her fist long before it made contact, surprised by the force behind it. Her other hand grabbed hold of the brunette's shoulder, and Shaundi shrieked as she was slammed into the wall behind them.

"You gonna kick my ass?" America hissed. "You gonna fuck up everyone who's trying to help you?"

Shaundi shrieked as she pushed back with all her might. All her might was nothing compared to America, but the shock of the blow still slammed the Latina back against the railing.

"I don't need your help! I am so fucking sick of needing your help!" Shaundi screamed. When her breathing settled down again, America could tell she was crying.

The brunette shook her head. "I am so fucking sick of being rescued all the time! Johnny's dead..." she hiccuped, "Johnny's dead because I couldn't pull my fucking weight."

America's hands were white around the railing. "You know that's not true."

"The fuck it's not."

"Johnny's dead for the same reason Carlos is dead," America snapped. "Because I can't just stop and think for five stupid fucking minutes because I always gotta have the biggest dick in the room."

Shaundi blinked. "Boss..."

"Johnny's dead because having people think I'm a badass is more important than the people who trust me."

Shaundi's tears were still hanging on her cheeks, arms crossed tight over her halter top, pushing up her fake tits. America scoffed to herself; even Shaundi, the realest of all of them, was a fake now.

"I used to be a stupid, helpless little girl." Shaundi sighed bitterly, eyes locked on the concrete. "When I met you, I was a fucked-up stoner dropout who couldn't hold a gun or even do her own laundry. Then all of a sudden...we won. We went corporate, and you and Johnny didn't have any idea what you were doing, and Pierce was as much help as he ever is, and I just...learned about all this stuff I could do."

America's grip on the railing loosened. She took a step forward.

"Then we get snatched up here, and Johnny...and I realized that all of that was for shit and I was still a stupid, helpless little girl. And I am not ever going to feel like that again."

America approached slowly as Shaundi struggled to bring her breathing under control, finally dropping against the wall next to her. "I miss that stupid, helpless little girl sometimes."

"No you don't," she snapped.

"Yes, I do." America sighed. "I miss how you made everything look so easy. I miss how you...made me think, just once in a while, that life didn't suck as much as I knew it did."

Shaundi didn't say anything, so America shrugged, the motion bringing their shoulders into contact. "But now it's like...if even you know how much life sucks, then what's the point?"

"So what, you like me helpless?"

America could feel Shaundi tense against her. She sighed.

"Yeah. Fine, I do." The brunette scoffed, but didn't speak. America's eyes fell on the same patch of floor as the brunette's. "I'm not a good person, Shaundi. In fact you might not have noticed, but I'm kind of a sociopathic asshole." Shaundi snorted. "So yeah, maybe it was nice to be able to think that even as bad as I was, I could still take care of someone."

America broke the contact, heading back to the railing and the city below them. "I don't think you always need to be rescued, Shaundi. But...I do like rescuing you."

Shaundi didn't say anything, but America could hear her push off from the wall. After a while, she figured the brunette had gone back inside. That was when Shaundi's hand landed atop hers.

"I like being rescued by you," Shaundi murmured. Her lips were flush against America's ear, and suddenly the Latina could feel the lithe body pressed against her own. She rolled her hand to squeeze Shaundi's and pressed back against her stunted embrace.

Then just like that, she was gone. And America Ortega was alone with the city once again.