Only in America
folder
+S through Z › Saints Row
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
16
Views:
10,580
Reviews:
1
Recommended:
1
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
+S through Z › Saints Row
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
16
Views:
10,580
Reviews:
1
Recommended:
1
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own the Saints Row franchise or any of its characters, and I make no profit from this story.
Epilogue
When she was forty, America Elena Ortega, a girl from the Stilwater barrio, finally got the recognition she deserved.
"Boss?" America looked up. For all his faults, Pierce was the only one who'd never tried to call her 'Empress,' even as a joke. "Someone to see you."
America grinned, hunched over in the too-big throne that was now hers. She'd thrown some pillows on it, but it was still uncomfortable as hell; unfortunately, the Zin liked unambiguous symbols of superiority and the humans of New Earth liked a photo-op, so she still had to put on the occasional big show.
"Show her in."
The small, mousy brunette stepped past Pierce, nodding politely as she approached the throne. "Your Majesty." The woman bowed, and America winced.
"Jesus, Jane, I keep telling you not to call me that."
Jane Austen smiled. "Apologies. Boss. A lifetime of Old World breeding is not so easily cast aside, I'm afraid. Now...how might I be of service?"
America leaned back, then thought better of it and just got off the throne altogether, sitting on the steps leading up to it as Jane leaned down to her level.
"I've just been thinking lately. About my life. My story. Just wondering whether anyone'll remember it."
Jane's eyes went wide. "Surely you can't be serious? You're the Empress of most of this galaxy. You saved the human race from extinction. No one will ever forget you."
America sighed angrily. "They'll never forget the fuckin' statues of me. What about the real me? What about the ghetto kid whose mama threw a bottle at her head when she came out? What about the woman who had to shoot a kid who loved her in the head rather than let him suffer? What about the stupid bitch who almost ruined a merger with Ultor because she thought one of the board members was hitting on her?"
She glanced back at the throne with a melancholy smile, thoughts on the only times it wasn't uncomfortable; when Shaundi was on it with her, in her arms. "What about the woman in love?"
She turned back to find Jane looking at her thoughtfully. America sniffed. "You write the stories, Jane. I was just, you know..." She shrugged awkwardly. "Hoping you'd write mine."
The writer blinked. Then, a slow smile spread across her face. "I'd be honored, my friend."
Jane pulled out the notebook and ballpoint pen she always carried (Kinzie having consistently failed in her attempts to get the woman to use a computer) and took a deep breath. "Where would you like to begin?"
America leaned back with a fond sigh, memories drifting back.
"Well, when I was growing up in Encanto in Stilwater, I used to play basketball with the neighborhood boys..."
"Boss?" America looked up. For all his faults, Pierce was the only one who'd never tried to call her 'Empress,' even as a joke. "Someone to see you."
America grinned, hunched over in the too-big throne that was now hers. She'd thrown some pillows on it, but it was still uncomfortable as hell; unfortunately, the Zin liked unambiguous symbols of superiority and the humans of New Earth liked a photo-op, so she still had to put on the occasional big show.
"Show her in."
The small, mousy brunette stepped past Pierce, nodding politely as she approached the throne. "Your Majesty." The woman bowed, and America winced.
"Jesus, Jane, I keep telling you not to call me that."
Jane Austen smiled. "Apologies. Boss. A lifetime of Old World breeding is not so easily cast aside, I'm afraid. Now...how might I be of service?"
America leaned back, then thought better of it and just got off the throne altogether, sitting on the steps leading up to it as Jane leaned down to her level.
"I've just been thinking lately. About my life. My story. Just wondering whether anyone'll remember it."
Jane's eyes went wide. "Surely you can't be serious? You're the Empress of most of this galaxy. You saved the human race from extinction. No one will ever forget you."
America sighed angrily. "They'll never forget the fuckin' statues of me. What about the real me? What about the ghetto kid whose mama threw a bottle at her head when she came out? What about the woman who had to shoot a kid who loved her in the head rather than let him suffer? What about the stupid bitch who almost ruined a merger with Ultor because she thought one of the board members was hitting on her?"
She glanced back at the throne with a melancholy smile, thoughts on the only times it wasn't uncomfortable; when Shaundi was on it with her, in her arms. "What about the woman in love?"
She turned back to find Jane looking at her thoughtfully. America sniffed. "You write the stories, Jane. I was just, you know..." She shrugged awkwardly. "Hoping you'd write mine."
The writer blinked. Then, a slow smile spread across her face. "I'd be honored, my friend."
Jane pulled out the notebook and ballpoint pen she always carried (Kinzie having consistently failed in her attempts to get the woman to use a computer) and took a deep breath. "Where would you like to begin?"
America leaned back with a fond sigh, memories drifting back.
"Well, when I was growing up in Encanto in Stilwater, I used to play basketball with the neighborhood boys..."