Work Text:
It's the night before the bank heist, and Johnny and Violet are kicking back at Violet's place, making last minute preparations for tomorrow. Boss had moved out of her shitty basement apartment about two years back, opting instead to live out of the nice hotel penthouse she'd purchased for the Saints down in the airport district. It was mostly Johnny who had talked her into it, but Violet enjoyed having the space in the end.
"The bag's ready?" She asks him, descending the stairs of the penthouse, her heels clacking on the steps.
"Yeah." Johnny replies, placing the bag in question down behind the staircase, out of the way.
"And you're sure the explosives won't just go off and blow my place sky high? I can only survive so many explosions, Johnny." She says, smiling, and finally reaches the bottom of the steps and stands beside him.
"Shaundi said the guy who made it for her was sure, so, y'know... it probably won't." He grins back at her, and she laughs. They both go quiet for a moment then, and Violet looks him over. He'd taken off his Saints jacket at the door, so he was just wearing his white button up. It looked good on him, Violet admits to herself. Then, getting an idea, she smirks.
"Don't punch me for this." She says, and Johnny's brow furrows in confusion. Before he can ask what she means, Violet's stepping over and snatching his shades off his face, dancing away quicker than he can grab her.
"Hey!" Gat says, and Violet laughs. Once she's a safe distance away, she places the frames on her face. Then her eyes go wide.
"Holy shit, you're fucking blind! I can't see shit!" She exclaims.
"Yo, give them back!" Johnny advances on her, but there's a slight smirk playing on his face despite his words. Violet circles around the couch away from him.
"This whole time you've been blind as a bat, and you never told me? I'm hurt, Johnny." She says, dramatically putting a hand to her chest like he's wounded her, despite the fact that she's still smiling.
"Just never came up." He replies in his defense, standing on the opposite end of the sofa, apparently haven given up his pursuit. Violet slips his shades off her face and holds them delicately in her fingers, walking over to the coffee table.
"You know," She starts, changing the subject, "it wouldn't kill you to leave these off for a little bit. I never get to see your damn face."
"All you had to do was ask." He replies, grin growing wider, and Violet beams in response. She loved seeing his eyes. Boss then places the shades down carefully on the coffee table, and reaches for the T.V. remote.
"By the way, I got some pizza for us. It's in the kitchen." She adds, turning towards the wall-mounted plasma screen.
"Nice." Johnny replies, and Violet clicks the button to turn on the stereo for some music, intending to have it as some background noise. To her surprise, however, one of the few slow songs she likes comes on, and just as she's about to switch it, she gets another idea. Tossing the remote down onto the couch, Violet turns back to Gat.
"Hey." She says, extending a hand out to him, a sudden boldness coming over her. "Dance with me." She says. Johnny raises an eyebrow, and Violet expects him to say no, expects him to crack some joke about his bad knee, but he doesn't.
"Uhh… I don't know how to fuckin' dance." Is what he says instead, staying where he is. Violet's surprised, but after thinking about it for a moment she figures it makes sense, considering it's, y'know, Johnny. He doesn't really seem like a dancing kind of person.
"Everyone can at least slow dance, even with a bad knee. C'mere, I'll show you. It'll be fun." She insists, continuing to hold out her hand with a smile. Johnny, however, continues to stare at her, brow furrowed as if he's thinking it over. After a moment, Violet gets tired of waiting. "If you do it I'll wear that tiny satin dress you liked so much later." She adds, deadpan. Gat looks surprised at that.
"How'd you know I liked that one?" He asks, raising an eyebrow, a small smirk growing on his face.
"Please, your jaw almost dropped to the floor when you saw me in it." Violet shakes her arm at him, reminding him she's still holding it out. Johnny finally steps forwards and takes her hand.
"Fine, but you damn well better make good on that deal."
"Have I ever lied to you?" She asks, knowing full well what the answer is.
"No." He replies, without hesitation, and Violet smiles. She draws them closer together then, taking his other hand and gently placing it on her hip. Positioning their arms, she then moves her left hand to his shoulder, and gradually begins to sway along to the song. Johnny awkwardly follows, shoulders and arms stiff as a board.
"Where'd you learn how to fuckin' slow dance?" He mutters, attempting to follow along with her.
"Lin showed me once." She says honestly, and Johnny goes quiet at that. "Now, relax." Violet adds, squeezing his hand in hers.
They continue to dance slowly along with the music around the penthouse floor, and eventually Johnny begins to loosen up and lead on his own. Violet soon realizes they've drifted closer together, but Johnny makes no move to pull back away. In fact, it almost feels as if he's slowly pulling her closer, and by the last half of the song Violet finds herself pressed up against him, head tucked down by his neck as they sway along to the rhythm. She can feel her heart racing and her face burning from the proximity, and she tries to focus on the music instead of how warm Gat feels, but to no avail. This wasn't quite what she had intended when she had suggested dancing, but she wasn't complaining. Not by a long shot.
Suddenly, Gat's hand curls around her waist, pulling her even closer, and Violet has to bite her lip to keep from whimpering. Her hand slips up from his shoulder to the back of his neck, and she feels impossibly hot, feels like she's going to pass out from the electricity coursing through her at being this close to him. His head tilts down, and she can feel his breath hot on her ear, and Violet closes her eyes to revel in the way he makes her feel.
As the song ends and Violet reluctantly brings up her head to look at him, she finds him staring back at her, brown eyes dark and half-lidded. Her breath catches, and she swears his face is as flushed as hers is. Violet wants to kiss him then, desperately, with every fiber of her being, and some part of her thinks maybe now, in this moment, it'd be okay. So, Violet inches forward, nose almost brushing his, and wonders if her mind is tricking her or if Johnny really just tilted his head towards her in return. Violet's eyes drift shut, and she can feel his breath on her lips, barely an inch between them now, and then--
Suddenly, a new song starts up, blaring over the speakers, and Violet's eyes snap open, pulling back in surprise at the loud sound. Johnny looks just as surprised as she is, and Violet steps back out of his arms and rushes over to the couch where she'd left the remote, shutting the blasting music off.
It's in that moment that Violet realizes what she had just been about to do, and all the color drains from her face. Oh, fuck. What the hell had she been thinking? Stupid, she tells herself, You practically got his girlfriend killed years ago and now you're trying to kiss him? What right do you have to have him? Panicking, she shakily tosses the remote back down on the cushions, and turns back to Johnny, refusing to look him in the eye.
"…We should probably go eat before the food gets cold." She tries to say casually, changing the subject, but she knows her voice is trembling. Before Johnny can say anything however, she's walking briskly past him into the kitchen area. Making her way over to and opening the fridge, she takes out a beer and cracks it open on the counter top, throwing it back and gulping it down like it'll save her from the shame and guilt she's feeling. By the time she's gotten out some paper plates and is serving herself a slice of pizza, Johnny finally walks in with his shades back on, apparently having retrieved them while she was gone.
"Yo, you got half of my favorite?" He says, looking at the open pizza box, and Violet almost falls over with relief that he seems to be acting normally.
"Course I did." She replies, taking a bite.
Later, when Johnny's taken the couch and she's headed to bed herself, she shuts the second floor bedroom door with a click and sinks back against it, shutting her eyes. Fuck. She was an idiot. Violet couldn't believe she had slipped up so bad. She had absolutely no right to even have feelings for Johnny, after what happened to Aisha, and now she was trying to kiss him? Violet sighs loudly, and sags back against the door even further. She had completely and utterly fallen for him, and all this time she'd felt too guilty about Aisha to do anything about it. And even if she did do something, there's no way Johnny would feel the same… Right? After the way he'd tugged her closer, and how he'd tilted his face towards hers… Was that really true?
Pushing herself away from the door, Violet kicks off her heels and practically throws herself down onto the king size bed. Snuggling into the sheets, she doesn't even bother to get up to take off her dress. Truth is, she feels like she's suffocating in her feelings, had slowly felt more and more that way the past year. She knew it was only going to get worse. The only way out was to tell him, but could she? Would he hate her for it? That was what she was truly afraid of, that Johnny secretly blamed her for Aisha's death. If he did, and then she told him that she'd fallen for him… He'd have every right to hate her. But, if he felt the same way…
Turing over to stare up at the ceiling, Violet sighs again, heavy and tired. She thinks about how good it had felt to be close to him, what she would give to be able to kiss him, for real. She wanted to tell him, with her whole heart, needed to tell him. If she didn't, she'd just continue torturing herself like this. Even if he turned her down, even if he hated her for it, the small chance that he would feel the same way would be worth it, wouldn't it? And Violet was starting to finally think there was, at least, a small chance.
Maybe… Maybe she'd try to figure out a way to tell him after the bank heist tomorrow. Maybe there was a way she could say it that wouldn't sound like she was treading on Aisha's grave. Violet turns over in the bed then, and wraps herself in the covers, exhausted, shutting her eyes. She'd figure out a way to tell him.
Little does she know, she never gets the chance.
