This is part of a series of short stories I did based on a Cyberpunk RED character I played who over time morphed into a character that will be part of the Ebon Reach setting when I get to her. In the meantime, enjoy some disaster-lesbian tension.

She woke up safe and warm in her bed, comfortable, relaxed, cuddled up against soft, smooth skin, long curly hair, the smell of citrus wafting from the long strands, an air of perf—

Londyn’s eyes shot open to look at the back of Alexandria’s head, then trailed down to her naked shoulders. She gently shifted and felt that, indeed, the rest of her body was unclothed. Just like Dyn’s was.

Fuuuuuuuuuuuuck.

She slowly, carefully, gently rose from bed, donned her gown and shawl, and tiptoed out of the room, gently closed the door, and whispered to Derbi to turn on noise cancellation for the bedroom.

“It’s still activated from last night, Miss de Villiers.”

Shiiiiiit.

“And all the better it was, ma’am. You failed to request it, in your inebriated state, but I took the liberty of activating it myself and I dare say that it was necessary.”

“Merci, Derbi.”

“Very necessary.”

“Thank you, Derbi.”

“And may I just offer that it seems your yoga classes are paying off, congratulations! I had no idea your legs could—”

“That will be all, Derbi..”

“Of course, Miss de Villers,” she said in Londyn’s brain with a liberal coating of smarm.

She walked downstairs to find her boyfriend in the kitchen. Dark black skin, like a cup of black coffee, short locs with an undercut, just a hint of stubble, no shirt, beautifully muscular, fresh jeans… She took a moment to watch him scoop an omelette onto a plate before proceeding. He turned on cue and slid the food her way with a glass of effervescent clear liquid.

“Mornin’, Dyn.”

“Vic,” she replied, apologetically. “I— I’m sorry, I—”

He put a finger to her mouth. “Drink.”

“What is it?”

“It’ll help your head.”

She took a sip, and it exploded like pop rocks in her mouth with a tangy, citrus-y bite. Then went down smooth and started settling her stomach.

“What is it?”

“Is it good?”

“It’s good, feels nice.”

“RamType A. Energy tonic. Get you goin’, kill your buzz, lube your engine.”

“I believe the drink unnecessary, Miss de Villier.” Dyn stared at the drink in confusion for a second, waiting for the second half of the statement. “Your engine seems perfectly well lubed from—”

“Derbi, Mute.”

A sad powering-down descending tone played in her ears as Vic laughed. “You should invest in a less sassy AI.”

“I like the sass most of the time. Look, about last night—”

“Eat,” he insisted, shoving the food toward her. She sheepishly sat on a high-top stool and began eating her omelette. She stopped to let out a sound of delight.

“This is amazing.”

He smirked and started working the pan, making the next one. “The secret’s avocado oil. High smoke point, no sticking, great flavor.”

“What’s an avocado?”

“Fuck if I know. Some extinct Earth fruit? It’s all synthetic anyway.”

“Well it’s delicious.”

“Good.”

“Vic, can I just—”

“Nope.” He turned to lean on the counter. “Nothin’ to be sorry for.”

“I fucked my ex in your bed, Vic.”

“Your bed,” he poked a finger to her nose as an accent. She wiggled her nose before responding.

“I still betrayed your trust.”

“God, save it.” He cut her off. “How many times I told you I don’t care?”

She looked down and quietly muttered, “Every time…”

“Every time. We ain’t exclusive.”

“I know, but—”

“But she’s my ex,” he mimed mockingly. “She’s the mother of your child, Dyn. You think I’m gonna be mad that you still have feelings for the mother of your child?”

“...Yes?”

“Bitch, if I had a child, I wouldn’t be able to separate her mother from her. You have a kid with someone, that shit sticks. Besides,” he flipped his omelette expertly, “it’s not like you broke up for a bad reason.”

He turned back to the counter as Dyn ate quietly.

“You wanted to find yourself. That’s legit, Dyn. That’s valid. You think Ali holds it against you?”

“I know she holds it against me.”

“Held. You asked her lately?”

“...Non.”

“No, you haven’t. She gets it. I get it. Cass gets it. Sabrina gets it. We allllll get it.”

“Sabby doesn’t know about…” She trailed off as Vic let out a sputtered laugh.

“You think Sabby doesn’t know?”

“Well she… Does she?”

He laughed quietly and smiled at her. “Yeah, Dyn. She knows. We’ve talked about it.”

“You told her?”

“Bitch, she heard you messin’ around and snuck down to talk to me! I made her a drink and talked to her.”

“When?”

“Like, two years ago.”

“What? Wait, a drink?”

“A soda, calm down.”

“...Shit.”

“It’s not a secret that you two still love each other, Dyn.”

“Whoa,” she breathed out dramatically, “whoahohohohooooo. Let’s… How about we not use the L-Word there, Vic?”

“You can lie to yourself, Dyn. But I can see through you. See to the real you.”

“...Did you just quote an OldEarth song at me?”

“You’ll never know…” He smiled as he slid the omelette onto another plate, and handed it to her.”

“Oh no, one is enough. I’ve gotta run.”

“Not for you.” He nodded at the stairs.

“Oh come on!”

“What, you gonna wake up her up, tell her, ‘That was fun, now fuck off, I’ve got work to do?’ ...Don’t answer that, go give her food.”

She put on her best pout.

“Dyyyyn.”

“Fine.”

“And a drink. Her head’s pounding too.”

“How do you know?”

“‘Cause you two never fuck unless you’re fuckin’ goooone, shitfaced way far. And you always just go to town on each other.”

“Please stop.”

“Hard workout like that, dehydrated as you are, I’ve learned the cure.”

“Oh my god, Vic, please.”

“Alright. Alright.” He put up his hands. “Just trying to help my beautiful girlfriend treat her beautiful ex-wife so their awkward morning is just a little less awkward.”

“Merci, Vic,” she rolled her eyes.

“I’m gonna throw on a load of laundry while you two figure your shit out, then when she’s up and out, I’m hitting the sack.”

“Here, or at your place?”

“Here, if you don’t mind.”

“Nah, all good. You be here for dinner, then?”

“Sure as shit.”

“What’s the plan?”

“Not sure yet. Now go on.”

Dyn whined gently, muttered French obscenities, and trudged up the stairs. She gently opened the door, walked quietly to the bed, and set the omelette on the bedside table. Ali started, blinking her eyes open.

She took a moment to take in Ali’s olive skin, flowing curly brown hair, her gentle face, her deep brown eyes, her athletic body, fit, prominent, but not bulky muscles, perfection from her bodyweight routines, her shapely—

FOCUS

Simple words layered on her eyes, and blinked off in time for Ali’s bleary eyes to focus on Dyn.

“Heyyy.”

“Hey, Ali.”

She paused and stared behind Dyn. “Shit.”

“Yeah.”

“We—” She sighed and grabbed her head. “Shit, Dyn.”

“I know.”

“How does this keep—”

“I know.”

“We can’t keep—”

“Vic made us breakfast.”

“...Vic?”

“My boyfriend?”

“Which one?” She stated incredulously, perhaps harder than she intended.

“Don’t start with this, Ali. He made you an omelette and… some… anti-hangover energy thing. It works, and it’s not bad.”

She took a cautious sip, made a face, then looked at the glass, surprised. “Yeah, not bad.”

“Hey, I’ve really gotta run.”

“Got work?”

“No, like… literally run.”

“Right. Yeah, no, go for it.”

“So can… can you…”

“I mean, last night—”

“We were drunk.”

“Yeah, and we…”

“Weren’t thinking.”

“Yeah, not really.”

“And we’re thinking now.”

“Yeah.”

“So can you…”

“It’s nothing I haven’t seen before—”

“Ali, can you just cover your eyes?”

“Right, right, yeah, closed. They’re closed.”

“Alright.” She doffed the gown and shawl shakily, looking back awkwardly at Ali to make sure she wasn’t looking, and hastily donned her cutoff jeans and a sports bra. “Okay, you can look.”

“Yeah. You, uh… look nice.”

“Thanks,” Dyn responded emotionlessly. “I’ve gotta go. He’s in the kitchen cleaning up, I think he has a pot of coffee. Just…”

“What, Dyn?”

“Just don’t be a bitch to him.”

“Oh my god.”

“I’m just asking—”

“Because I’m so awful.”

“I didn’t mean—”

“Sorry I’m such a monster.”

“You’re not that bad, I just—”

“Not like I let Willow sleep on my couch for two months.”

“I know, Ali—”

“Not like I—”

“Ali.” She cut the conversation. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said anything. His name is Vic, and he’s nice. Maybe a little abrasive, just…” She sighed. “I’m going running.”

“Hey.” She stopped and turned, looking at Ali, covers huddled up to her armpits, plate gently balanced on her lap. “I’m sorry I pressured you last night.”

“It’s not your fault,” Dyn sighed in return. “I was just as into it.”

“It’s just… I was drunk—”

“So was I.”

“—and I always get like that—”

“No, I get it.”

“—I always get… that way—”

“It’s okay, Ali.”

“—and I need someone to lean on.” There was a palpable silence for just a moment between the two. “And I can always lean on you. You’re always there.”

She breathed out carefully. “I’m always there for Sabrina. And… you’re Sabrina’s mom. So I’m… there for you too.”

“Is that all I am? Sabrina’s mom?”

“If that were true, we wouldn’t be having this conversation.”

“Then what am I?”

“I don’t know, Ali. What do you want to be?”

She stared sadly at her eggs. “I don’t know.”

“Usually one of us is sober enough to rebuff the other when we get like that. Last night… we weren’t. No one was there to stop us.”

“What about your boyfriends?”

“They think it’s funny.”

“Of course they do.”

“I—” she tightened her fists and relaxed them. “Yeah. It was a mistake. Like it always is.”

“Yeah.”

“Right?”

“No, yeah, definitely. We can’t keep doing this.”

“It’s bad for us.”

“Bad for… yeah.”

“Look, Sabby’s at school already, so you don’t have to worry about it. It’s barely six thirty, so feel free to, like, hang out and watch something if you want.”

“Nah, I should get going.”

“Yeah. Just eat your eggs. And drink your… thing.”

“My thing. Right. Hey, can I borrow some clothes?”

“Never one for the walk of shame, yeah.”

“Can I just borrow some damn clothes?”

“Sorry, sorry, yeah, go for it. Not my suits.”

“Obviously. I don’t wear grey anyway.”

“Alright. I’ll… see you around?”

“Yeah, I suppose.”

“Right. See ya.”

She slipped out of the room, shut the door behind her, and let out a sigh long enough that she felt deflated afterward. She shuffled down the stairs to see Vic, now shirted, hauling a basket of clothes toward the door.

“How’d it go?”

“How’s it go every time, Vic?”

“Better with the drink?”

“Maybe, I don’t know. She’s… Argh.”

“Right,” he smirked.

“I imagine me wearing cutoff shorts and a bra didn’t help the conversation.”

“Is that better or worse than a sheer gown?”

“It’s not that sheer.”

“It’s pretty sheer.”

“Why does everyone keep saying that?”

“‘Cause it is.”

“Look, I gotta go for a run. If she comes down just… don’t be a dick, alright?”

“Well yeah. I know the routine.”

“Good boy,” she patted him on the chest.

“Oy,” he retorted sharply, and she just gave him a smirk and set off to run. He leaned in the doorway watching her run off, watching her form, and jumped a bit at a voice suddenly behind him.

“Nice ass, huh?”

“Ah! Uh. Right.” He chuckled awkwardly. “Surprisingly nice.”

“Nothing surprising about it. She works for it.”

“Yeah.”

“Hey, sorry about last night.”

“Nah, I know how it goes. It’s all good.”

“No, it’s not. It’s reckless and irresponsible of her to cheat on you like that.”

“It’s not cheating if it’s not against the rules. And besides, if she was, wouldn’t that make you just as culpable?”

She looked off at the wall for a moment. “Thanks for the eggs.”

“Sure. You feeling better?”

Ali sighed. “No. I feel like shit in my soul.”

“You feel like that every time you sleep over?”

“... Have a good one, Vic.”

“Yeah, you too. Oh, hey.” She paused as he fished around in his pockets and procured a small coin glowing with purple lights. “I run Prophecy, chill little nightclub up on Alkeintakr and King. Hundred and sixteenth floor. Outside elevator access, plus hover-parking. Drink on me?”

She stared at it for a second before looking back at his face and saying, with equal hints of exhaustion, depression, and perhaps a touch of poorly withheld malice, said “I don’t drink. But thanks,” and walked away coolly.

Vic watched her leave, walking slowly in Dyn’s green blouse, a flowy skirt, and sandals. He heaved up the laundry, and started toward the washing machine while muttering “Fuck, that bitch is tall. God damn.”