The Boss smiled, but then stuck her tongue out in disgust, squeezing her eyes shut, "Ah! Fuck!" she exclaimed, smacking the glass down on the bar.

"Something wrong with it?" the bartender asked, raising an eyebrow.

She pointed to her empty shot glass, "Fuck no! It tastes just like real whiskey!"

To this the virtual bar tender just gave her a confused look, and filled her glass again.

"You're gonna need to keep 'em comin'." she warned him, downing the second.

The Broken Shillelagh was packed tonight with the usual simulated bunch of drunkards, she was here for old time's sake, shits and giggles, but also she was here because she had recently realized that she hadn't even tried the liquor in the simulation. So, hell, why not?

Partying kinda gets thrown out the window when you're more worried about rescuing your crew, taking out an alien armada and generally surviving in space. Of course partying wasn't exactly the right word for what she was doing now. Sitting alone like some washed up, old, burn out at exactly the right kind of irish-themed place for that thing. Well, Kinzie was busy learning the ways of time travel, Ben King didn't party anymore and Keith David was above the sort of thing, Asha was too tight-assed to even consider asking, she was leaving Johnny and Shaundi to make up for lost time, Pierce was not exactly the best choice to get drunk with-nor was he the one that would remain the most clothed-and she didn't ask Matt Miller because, well, she couldn't see him partying with her. Seeing as how they had both tried to kill each other before.

Sure, she had stuck up for him when Kinzie was having none of her rescuing him. Sure, she had gone out on her own, risking life and limb to retrieve his scrawny, naked ass from the heart of Zinyak's ship. Sure, she had played along with his Nyte Blade fanfiction/simulation and had found it a bit 'fun'. And sure, she had fucked him but that was because no one should have to die a virgin. And as the last world leader she had taken it upon herself to cure him of his innocence. And also because she had to admit that he was kind of attractive in a black-and-blue-lipstick-and-guyliner-wearing-punk-kid sort of way. But, that didn't mean they were gonna be down to party together.

Plus, she was sure he wasn't into the cocaine-and-hookers sort of parties that she was into, especially considering that most of the time these parties tended to end up with grand shootouts and explosions and other random acts of general chaos, simulation or no.

"He's probably more into raves anyways..." she summed up with a shrug, downing yet another shot.

"Who's "probably more into raves"?" she heard the familiar British accent over the disoriented din of the pub.

"Speak of the Devil..." she glanced back at the aforementioned punk kid in generated Decker King uniform. "I'm getting some kind of weird deja vu right now..."

"This seat taken?" he nodded to the occupied bar stool beside hers.

She pulled out her .45 Fletcher and blew the brains out of the generic patron taking up the seat, she grinned, "Nope." she shoved the inanimate body onto the floor.

"Jesus!" Matt Miller cringed, "You didn't have to kill him!" he took the seat, muttering something about sociopathy, but otherwise apparently not too bothered.

"I'm pretty much the Zin Emperor, they don't even get mad anymore when I do this shit." she turned to him, leaning an elbow on the counter, gesturing around the room to the various-and calm- vinos, "Plus he was just code anyway."

"You have a point I suppose, but I get the feeling that doesn't matter much to you." he gave her a side glance.

She shrugged, smiling, "You'd be right. So what brings you here?"

"I'm taking a break from assisting Agent Kensington with the mind-bending time-travel business, and the only alcohol we have on the ship is vile." he wrinkled his nose, ordering a vodka with juice.

The Boss giggled, "Can't shoot the straight shit? Hey are you even old enough to drink?" she teased.

He snorted, holding up two fingers, palm inward, "the Rods", "Up yours, I'm twenty-two." he scoffed.

"Christ, you're twenty-two now?" she ran a hand through her disheveled violet hair, "I remember when you were just some punk teen."

"Oh, like you're so old..." he sipped on his screwdriver, "And I wasn't "just some" punk teen." he resented her choice of words. "I was a God among punk teens."

She found this hilarious, "That's as may be but I totally kicked your ass, Matt Miller. But, have to admit," she cocked her head to one side, "The whole dragon thing was pretty damn awesome."

He nursed his still full glass, "You think that was awesome? You should see the kinds of things I can do now. If only I still had the Decker user net as my personal playground, rather than this hovel."

She frowned, "You're right, this is a total hovel, I miss the real Steelport."

"The real Steelport is also a total hovel." he countered.

"Yeah, but at least the sun rose there." she whined.

"And there was no barrier in the sky." he commiserated.

"And the food had so much more taste."

"And there was rain, and snow, and wind."

"And the people were real, thinking things."

"And you could smell the filth of the city."

"Yeah! And if a hobo pissed on your shoes it was actual piss." the Boss threw her neon blue-and-pink tattooed hands up in the air.

He furrowed his brow, guy-lined eyes betraying a hint of concern, "Is that... Is that really something you miss about the meat world?"

"Fuck man, I miss everything about the real world." she downed another shot.

"I'm starting to think you've had enough, Boss." he chuckled awkwardly.

"I'm starting to think you haven't." she retorted. "Mr. Juice."

"You're taunting isn't going to make me drink anything straight." he shrugged.

"What kind of man are you?" she pointed, taking in his dark blue lips and smoky-rimmed eyes. "Oh right."

"What do you mean, "Oh right."?" he snarked, "Do you have a problem with the way I look?"

"Nah, nothing, nothing." she rubbed her neck, just over her purple tribal fluer-de-saints. "I mean, the eyeliner and the lipstick I can dig, you know, and even the Nyte Blayde thing I can get." she shrugged, "But, now, with the whole vodka n' juice thing, you're kinda startin' to look like a bitch!" she accused, grinning triumphantly at his unamused expression.

"Sod off." he grunted, "I'm not a lush like some sociopath I know."

"Ah, come on, what's the worst that could happen?" she tried, not denying the lush or sociopath part of his remark.

"I "die" of alcohol poisoning and wind up a vegetable on the ship and Kensington chucks me out the bloody airlock?" he was quick to answer.

There were a few seconds of slow, relative silence.

"Kinzie drinks it straight." she said simply, twirling her finger on the rim of the glass.

"Ah, strewth, fine!" he motioned for the bartender, "Without juice this time."

"All right, Matty!" she sat up, holding her shot glass high.

"Don't call me Matty." he held up his glass.

"Cheers." she clinked her glass to his, downing it with gusto, watching his face scrunch up in disgust.

"Horrid." he commented.

"Please, vodka's a cake walk." she held up her glass as the bartender filled it yet again, "Do you know how many shots of whiskey I've had so far?" she smirked, swirling the liquid fire in her glass.

"Probably enough to kill a moose." Matt scoffed.

"And I'm just buzzed!" she exclaimed. "Maybe this isn't effecting me as much as the real shit."

"Tastes just as awful." he rebutted, accepting another refill, feeling the heat of the alcohol start to envelope his skin.

"Stop being such a baby." she smiled, "A few more of these and I'll be ready for a real party."

Matt reluctantly shot his second vodka, "And what exactly is your idea of a real party?"

She mulled it over in her mind, "It would normally involve strippers and/or hookers, lots of violence and maybe some high quality grass."

"Oh so any given day for you?" he said snarkily.

"Pretty much." she agreed. "But since you're a total fuck up-no offense-at social interaction, we can cut you some slack. I don't want to have to worry about keeping you alive so no violence and no violence means no drugs. We could hit up Technically Legal!" she planned. "Ain't nothing wrong with a regular old booze and titties party."

He chuckled, "I knew it."

Confused, she asked, "Knew what exactly?"

"You were lonely, weren't you?" he asked with a grin.

"What do you mean lonely?" she suppressed a growl, feeling an insult to her pride come along. She wrapped a hand up in that neon blue tie he always had on, tugging him closer.

His icy-blue eyes widened upon meeting her angry violet ones, the image of her ripping Zinyak's head and spinal column from the rest of his body flashed in his mind, "Well, Johnny, Pierce, Shaundi and Kensington are all busy with other tasks and you've been left to your own devices for too long." he assessed. "You're not used to being on your own, then. Another reason why I came down here, couldn't stand watching you sit around drinking yourself into a stupor on your own." he chuckled.

When she looked him in the eye, she was surprised to find his usual smugness absent, in its place their was a genuine, not-being-an arrogant-prick smile. So, instead of punching him in the mouth for deconstructing her pride, she pressed a peck to his cheek, "You got a lot a balls to say that shit to me, kid." she chided, releasing his tie.

"Liquid courage." he wiggled his glass.

She downed one last shot, before smashing the glass to the floor, "Ah, fuck me running. Let's get the hell out of here, Miller. I'll pay for you to get a lap dance." she stood.

"Well, alright, then." he followed her out.

"Oh, Technically Legal." The Boss breathed in the sweat-scented air of the dimly lit strip club. "It's been far too long."

"Not all that long." Matt Miller pointed out, "You were here with Ben King when you two were ousting Tanya."

She smiled, "Oh yeah! I forgot about that! And I did that sweet ass dance!" she recalled as they took a seat by one of the stages.

"Ugh, don't remind me..." Matt hung his head.

"What the fuck's that supposed to mean, Miller?" she whispered pointedly. "You got a problem with my body?"

"N-no! Not saying I'm into you that way, I mean, even if you and I-! A-and not saying that you're not attractive." he tried to cover his ass, voice taking on a slightly higher pitch.

"Miller, the rambling!" The Boss snapped.

"It's just not something I can see you doing!" he finally got out. "You know, especially after seeing you tear the Syndicate asunder and threaten my life and all that..." he laughed nervously.

"Yeah, you're right, I may be hot shit but my talents would have been wasted as a stripper." she shrugged.

They lost their trains of thought, hypnotized by a scantily clad angel twirling around a pole, top to bottom. Somewhere in the next hour The Boss ordered a few more drinks, determined to get the hacker sloshed, and was surprised when Matt didn't bitch about them, and then she held true to her word and paid for two lap dances. And, somewhere in the short span of the dance, she realizes she's thinking about fucking someone. And it isn't the stripper.

Maybe it was the alcohol peaking in her blood, and the fact that a devil-horned girl's perfect ass was practically in her lap. Or maybe it was the fact that the last time she fucked Matt Miller, he had actually made her cum, a difficult feat for most of the men she brought to the bedroom. But, no, she wasn't going to, once was enough for her, she wasn't going to make a habit of jumping Matt Miller. Even if he was pretty damn good in bed, even if she kind of found him hot, make up and all. There was no way she was doing it again, this was Matt Miller, he tried to off her more than once, he was whiny and scrawny and he had a damn near unhealthy obsession with Nyte Blayde. But he did have a wicked tongue, and those lovely, lovely lines on his hips, and the size of his cock was nothing to scoff at. She mulled this all over, thinking about that day in the cargo bay.

She was feeling hot all over and it wasn't just the shots.

"Oh, fuck it!" she stood quickly once the stripper made her way back to the back. The Boss always took what she wanted, and who fucking cared if what she wanted was Matt Miller?

The confusion in Matt's face soon turned to concern when his Boss pulled him up out of his chair and damn near dragged him out of the club, "What the hell are you doing?!" he shouted as he stumbled along behind her, "Is something wrong?"

She pulled him into an alleyway behind the club, pressed him up against a wall.

He looked down at her, and when he saw her intense glare he began wondering if he had done something wrong, "What the he-"

She cut him off with her lips on his, forceful. He was shocked for a moment, but, began kissing back, because, well, fuck, they're both drunk and he'd just had a lap dance. It didn't bother either of them that his black-blue lipstick was smudging and mixing with her violet. She slid her tongue into his mouth, getting exactly what she wanted. Her hands took root in his hair, and she was pushing herself into him hard, and even if this was all just simulated, it felt fucking good. She bit his lip and all he could think about was getting her out of those clothes. He knew this was dangerous, this is the Boss of the Saints, the President of the United States, the goddamn Emperor of the Zin, he'd watched her rend monsters and men alike in half, hoisting the heads of her kills high in the air. Hell, she'd tried to kill him before, made him beg for his life, even. But, fuck, he remembers how huge and soft her tits are, how great her arse feels in his hands, how her legs tensed around his head when he made her cum. He had thought it would just be the one time on the ship, he had wanted to break a dry spell, and he couldn't see himself turning down sex from anyone that wanted him. Like he couldn't turn it down now. Just kissing her was making his pants tighten. He was running his hands up her shirt, ghosting over her stomach, sticking a few fingers in the hem of her skirt, pressing against a hip bone. She broke the kiss, breathy, and pressed a hand to the crotch of his skinny jeans, squeezing his constricted dick.

"I know of a hotel not too far from here." she whispered in his ear before nibbling on it, heady from adrenaline.

"Take me." he manages, running a hand up her thigh, grabbing her arse and pressing his hips to hers, making his need more apparent.

It isn't long before they're in a shitty, little room a block away. She can't even wait to get to the bed before she presses herself to him again, forcing his head down to hers. He grunted into their kiss, tripping backward to the creaky mattress. She pushed him down, perching on his lap, she got back into the lip lock. His hands ran up the back of her thighs, up to her firm arse. Even the fishnet stockings she's wearing were too much. Her mouth wandered down his neck, nipping and sucking, licking the bright red marks she left. He hissed, "Bloody tease."

She undid his jacket and discarded it, and as she took off her shirt he was doing the same, exposing his overtly white stomach. She ran her tongue over his chest, wrapping around a nipple briefly before trailing down to those exquisite 'v' lines of his. He whimpered, fumbling with his belt when she pulled back to undo her bra and kick off her boots. He sat up, lacing one arm around the indent of her waist, pulling her closer to him. He sucked on one stiff, pink nipple, recalling how sensitive they were. She moaned, the way he massaged her tits so roughly, the way he grazed his teeth against her nipples, it was driving her mad. He shoved his hand down the hem of her skirt, edging it down. She shimmied out of it easily, rolling it, her tights and her thong down her thighs before launching an attack on his pants and boxers.

Finally naked, she forced him back down, keeping a hand at his hips to make him stay. With an arrogant smirk tossed his way, she leaned down and pressed her lips to the head of his tense cock. She slid him into her mouth, taking more and more with each bob. He resisted the urge to thrust further down her throat, though he couldn't help but bury a hand in her hair. She could hear his breathing hitch, his choked moans and feel his muscles tighten. The way he gripped the sheets until his knuckles went white excited her beyond belief. She took him nearly to the hilt. Her mouth was so hot and wet over his dick, he knew he would lose himself just like this, so he reluctantly pulled her up.

In a particularly daring move on his part, he flipped her over, positioning himself between her legs to return the favor. "Ah, Matt, so willing to please." she purred.

He ran his fingers along her inner thigh until they came to her bare lips. He swiped a thumb over her wet entrance and ran it up to her clit, circling it gently.

"Fuck..." she moaned, tilting her head back.

He slowly slipped a digit into her, curling it against her upper wall, sending shockwaves of pleasure jolting through her body. She arched her back as he continued his ministrations. He worked a second finger into her, as she thrust her hips into his hand, stretching her for what would come later. Then, all too abruptly, he halted, pulling his fingers from her core. She was about to whine at him when his weight shifted on the bed and she felt his hands part her thighs more. He ducked his head down to the meeting of her legs, giving her a long lick, dipping his tongue into her for a moment before focusing on her clit.

"Oh, hell!" she squeaked, fingers curling in his hair and the sheets. Everything was entirely too hot, it felt like her heart was going to beat out of her chest, and she knew her face was far more red than she would like to admit. She was finding it hard to resist bucking her hips. "Fuck, Matt, you're gonna make me cum!"

He lapped again and again. Slow and hard. He knew exactly where to touch her, all of the moans and squeaks telling him exactly where she wanted him. He wanted her to cum for him, to shiver and moan, if just once. So he pushed her right over the edge, teasing her clit with a graze of his teeth until she tensed up hard, he slipped his fingers back into her, and finally she elicited a muffled moan, quivering until her orgasm retreated to the far corners of her mind, "Oh, God..."

"Turn over for me." Matt whispered in her ear, slightly terrified at what might happen if he ordered The Boss to do anything. He hovered over her, waiting for her to move or to argue. "You were on top last time."

"Maybe next time." she sat up and, in one quick motion, she pushed him back and below her. She could easily overpower the weakling anyday. She straddled his hips and lined his cock up to her entrance as he laid back and breathed in deeply. She lowered herself onto him slowly, relishing in his groan. He rested his hands at her hips as she rolled them, grabbing her arse as she worked her rhythm on him. He squeezed his eyes shut, for someone whom he had once expected to be a loose person, she was actually quite tight. She started out slow, but she kept upping her pace, wanting more and more, needing to quell the fire that spread throughout her body. She was getting so close.

"F-fuck!" Matt bit back a moan as The Boss tightened around him, he could feel her second orgasm in her muscles.

Stars exploded in her mind, and her nails dug into Matt's shoulders. While she was coming out of her orgasm, Matt had pulled out of her and turned her over, rubbing his cock over her slit before entering her from behind, "Goddam it, Matt!" she lowered her front to the bed, better presenting her ass to him, she felt so full of him in this position.

"Had to." he replied simply, pressing his lips and teeth to the back of her neck, not nearly hard enough to leave marks. He pressed against her as best he could, feeling skin on skin. He supported himself on one hand so his free hand could roam her body as he pumped into her, he traced the curving tattoo that sat at the very edge of her back, he squeezed her boobs, tweaked her nipples, trailed his nails back to her hip, using it as leverage to push himself in as deep as he would go.

"Oh, fuck..."

His hand made its way to her clit, teasing it with a fingertip, rubbing circles around her most sensitive spot. She bucked her hips back into him, about to lose it again. She was sure she was just shy of too full, and she felt like sparks were shot from head to toe each time Matt touched her clit. She was feeling dizzy, which was an interesting and new sensation.

Matt couldn't stand it anymore, she was so wet and hot and everytime he thrust she tightened around him, feel the heat all over his body begin to ache in his bones.

With one final thrust she finally felt the heat coiled in her stomach release, mind clouded over with pleasure, and near the same time, his cock twitched, spurting hot inside of her. He let out the most delicious groan she had ever heard.

"Fuck." The Boss straightened up, brushing up against his chest with her back, before moving forward, pulling herself free of Matt Miller. Completely sober they both sat back, she realized he still had that tie on. She caught her breath, feeling suddenly uncomfortably hot and sweaty. "You're pretty good for someone who just lost their virginity." she snarked.

He furrowed his brow, "Oh, what, because I'm a hacker I haven't had sex before?" he smirked. "How pathetic do you think I bloody am?"

"You weren't a virgin? I'm just saying you called yourself a cyber god and built up a whole virtual reality for yourself. Plus you asked for a Nyte Blade body pillow for Christmas. Textbook virgin." she grinned.

"How did you know what I asked for for Christmas?" he was taken aback.

She shrugged, hopping off the bed, "I know it's just simulation sweat, but I need a shower, you think this crapsack hotel has hot water?" she looked over her shoulder at him, giving him full view of that perfect arse.

He stood, gearing to follow her, "So, earlier, when you said, "Maybe next time.", what did you mean by that?" he smirked smugly.

"I guess that means that if I feel like fucking you again, I'm going to." she crossed her arms, "Is that gonna be a problem?"

"Ah, n-no!" he answered quickly. "I'd be more than fine with that."

"Good." she took advantage of their close proximity and wrapped her hand up in his tie, she really liked that she could do that, "Now, do you wanna join me in the shower?" her lips inches from his.

As an answer he said, "I know your real name." he just blurted it out.

She stopped dead in her tracks, mood effectively killed.

"W-well, I just figured calling you by that would be easier than just saying 'Boss' all the time. You know, if we ended up bonking again." he rambled.

"I haven't been called by my name in a long time, Matty." she raised an eyebrow at him.

"W-well, if you prefer Boss, I'd still-"

"Ah, fuck it!" she grinned, every bit the puckish rogue she claimed to be, "As badass as that would be, it would get awkward as hell." she admitted. "I ain't all in to that dom shit." she planted a kiss on his smudged lips.

His aura of obnoxiousness returned, "Alright, then, Circe."

She scowled, "Gotta get used to it again..." she tugged on his tie. "Just don't get carried away in using it. And no!-And I mean no!-using it in front of anyone! Ever!" she pointed the space between his eyes.

"Of course!" he smiled, holding up his hands.

"Now, come on, I wanna get out of this simulation before Kinzie starts to wonder what's keeping us."

"Yes, m'am."