ZE NOTES: Been a long, long time since I've written fanfiction. First Saints fanfic, oneshot. 4th game, no spoilers.
I wanna dedicate this to my SR buddy, he knows who he is. And my sister who likes to make fun of badfic because there's too much of it on the internet.

For Glory

Her footsteps were frantic, erratic clanging echoing down the hall from her heavy boots as she ran through the ship.

'Where is it?'

She breathed hard, eyes darting about her surroundings as she zipped past. One turn down the wrong corridor meant certain defeat.

'Where do I…?'

Other footsteps were heard banging nearby, getting closer to her with every step. She paused for a moment, held her breath and whipped around down the right through the sliding doors. It was unheard of to see, even hear that the Boss showed even an inkling of fear but it was alive now, like a virus rapidly spreading through her body. She exhaled heavily, her heart thundering within her chest as wildly as her footsteps through the next series of doors. It had seemed now for a moment she was alone.


Her legs began to go numb but she forced them to move faster and faster yet, her breaths sharp and audible as she reached the stairs and bolted down them. To the left room, through the next door, around the corner…


The Boss came to a screeching halt. He was here, coming in from the other end of the room. Both sets of eyes met and time seemed to freeze for the both of them. She could see it out of the corner of her eye, the door. Her goal. The handle was thin, long, and rusted on the metal a little but it meant nothing to her but her destination, her crown and glory, her place that no human or space freak alive was about to take from her! She was the president of the United States dammit, she had these rights!

Her breathing slowed and she stared down her adversary. Her wide eyes hardened, her brow furrowed, and on the other end of the room she was met with a shake of the head and a narrowed glare.

"Don't you even try…" he warned, gun in hand as though the sight of it was going to be enough to discourage her from making a run for it.

It was in this moment that the Boss reflected on what really mattered here. This wasn't just about conquering the competition, it was about her standing and pride, which meant the pride of the people, of the morale of humans all over. If she went down, they had nothing. Her success meant the success of the human race, establishing her command in this world meant they all lived to see another day.

Those thoughts in her head, her fists clenched. In that short moment it started and ended all at the same time, her grin taunting 'come and get me' while his lips twisted into fury. They both moved to the door, footstep to footstep, breath to breath, beating of the hearts almost as a single unit.

His gun raised.

Her fist raised.

He hesitated.

She didn't. Knocking the gun loose with one hit, her next swing had her fist collide successfully with his jaw. The Boss didn't even bother to see if he fell, he was a leg below her and that was all that mattered as she performed a bit of an overdramatic leap towards the door, hand grasping the cold handle desperately. She pulled and it swung open, and from beyond the metal barrier she was met with what felt like the light of Heaven itself shining down upon her. Her hand swooped in as he made a desperate grasp for her arm but he was too late. Her hand ripped from the refrigerator with a cold can in hand which she then thrust into the air like a trophy while he slumped in defeat.

"Dammit, Pierce!" she shrieked, "I told you I'm the leader, I get the last can of Saints Flow!"

The End