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Summary
Like a puppy with her tail between her legs, Santos followed silently as Garcia guided them to a (mostly) vacant hallway, passing by Princess, who only smirked at her, and it was then that Santos knew how truly fucked she was.
Alone now, Garcia turned to Santos, her arms folded. “You better have a fucking bulletproof explanation.”
“I–” Trinity started. “I, um–” Oh god.
“What the fuck was that? Just because I needed a rain check?”
Santos could only stare dumbly.
“Jesus,” Garcia shook her head. “I thought you knew what this was.”