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"Girl you smell like shit!"
Rosemarie, Boss of The Third Street Saints, rolls her eyes at Pierce holding his nose dramatically. She says nothing, just pulls her leather jacket closer by the collar and continues to fiddle with the trigger of her gun. She only looks up at him when she hears the sound of the window being rolled down.
"Pierce this is a fuckin' stake out for the Morning Star. If they hear you breathing from the open window I'll kick your ass." The boss hissed.
"Your B.O. will kill me before you can." He choked. "Jesus Boss when was the last time you showered?"
"I've been busy." She said, hoping that would be enough of an excuse.
"Too busy to take a fuckin' bath?"
Clearly not. She sighs and zips her leather jacket up. "There, now it's all in my jacket. Muted smell. Roll up the fucking window."
There's a moment that, after years of dealing with Pierce, she can tell he's trying to decide if pressing the issue is hazardous to his health. The Boss responds only with a glare, silently daring him to fuck around and find out.
The tension breaks with the sound of the window being rolled back up, and Pierce pulling out his phone.
P: shaundi when's the last time you saw the boss take a bath?
S: Dunno y?
P: she smells like shit and is acting all cagey
S: Tbf I don't blame her
P: What?
S: Didn't she get locked in a trunk of a sinking car?
P: That was ages ago!
S: N blown up on a boat?
P: Still ages!
S: And had 2 jump off a burning boat after a swordfight?
P: Okay yeah there's some trauma but she's never not bathed before, why now?
Pierce clearly hadn't noticed the Boss getting her phone out until the next message.
R: This is the fucking group chat.
P: oh shit
S: o shit
Pierce puts his phone away and looks out the window. She just stares at the back of his head.
What could he possibly know about trauma? Everything tragic that has ever happened to her, water has been involved. Lin died, she lost years to a coma, it rained so hard the day Carlos died, she didn't give much of a fuck about the swordfight, but it still sucked.
Rosemarie knows that Shaundi is either not thinking too hard, or is actively trying not to think about Johnny and the bridge blowing up.
The final resting place of her best friend is water, and when she went to get some closure at his funeral she was greeted with more fucking water.
Rosemarie rolls her eyes and settles further into her seat. Trauma… what a weak ass word. Like she's some broken kid. No thanks. She did the broken kid routine about her old "trauma" and it got her nowhere. Wasn't until she resolved it herself with some murder that she ended up joining the Saints.
Pierce sighs. "So what's fuckin' you up?"
"Nothing."
"Don't play that shit boss."
"Pierce I'm fine. I'll get some perfume if it's such a problem."
He turns his body towards her now. "You know that ain't the problem Boss."
Her lips purse, a sign most Saints know means they should leave her alone; but Pierce isn't just a Saint.
"Rose," he starts; not even hesitating when she snaps her head up to look at him for actually using a name other than "Boss". "I'm your friend. If something is fuckin you up I wanna know. Is it like Shaundi was talking about? Did all that shit make you afraid of wa-"
She interrupts him with a slam of her fist on the dashboard. "I'm not afraid Pierce."
He puts his hands up to calm her down. "Okay, okay. So what's wrong then?"
The Boss shakes her head. "Water and I just don't get along. I guess it's unlucky or something. Too much shit, loss and tragedies and general suckiness, it all happened with water. After the bridge I just-"
"Girl you letting Killbane call the shots now?"
"What, no I-"
"Okay so who? Julius? Jessica? Donnie?"
"It's just better to avoid-"
"It's better to avoid gunfights and drug deals and weirdos like Zimos, but you ain't doin that."
She huffs and looks down at her feet idly tapping the gas pedal. "That's not the same."
"Like hell it's not. Both you and Shaundi have been all kinds of fucked up since Johnny-"
The Boss's head whips up to glare at him again.
"Boss, you agreed with me that life is for the livin'. What happened?" His brows are furrowed, genuinely worried.
"Yeah well. I want Shaundi to feel better." She admits. "Shaundi doesn't deserve this kind of guilt." She trails off and Pierce is smart enough to hear what she didn't say.
"Shaundi doesn't deserve it, but I do."
There's a sigh, and she continues. "I just can't bathe in the same stuff Johnny's corpse is floating in. It fucked me up enough getting blasted in there against my will that I… I just can't, Pierce."
"You think he'd be cool with this?"
Rosemarie smiles a sad little smirk. "He'd probably open a fire hydrant on my ass by now. It's been like a month since I showered. Dry shampoo really is a miracle."
"Rancid. You know it and you know Johnny'd know it."
"What if I go into the shower, and I slip and crack my skull, Pierce? That's the kind of luck I have with water."
He thinks about it for a minute. "How about a washcloth? And just wash your hair in the sink? You don't want bad luck to get you, you just gotta minimize the water you use."
"But-"
"Boss look; this isn't about me, but I know a thing or two about phobias and stupid mental shit fuckin up your life. Avoiding this shit isn't gonna make it go away. It's gonna get worse unless you give it the finger and do it anyway."
"I-"
"Isn't that what you always tell your girls? How you went through some rough shit, but you just gave it the finger?"
The corner of the Boss's mouth turns down, having taken a dose of her own medicine.
"Fine." She finally says, cocking her shotgun at the sight of Morningstar red. "I'll clean up after I splatter these bitches."
"Hell yeah. Try an keep from gettin' it on my shoes this time. Italian leather ain't easy to get bloodstains off." There's a smile in Pierce's tone as he opens the door of the Boss's Raycaster.