# Chapter 1 — The Road Back Panam had been driving long enough that the road had stopped changing. Different pavement. Different dust. Different wreckage at the edges. Same road. The courier run had taken her farther east than she had expected, then south, then back through a chain of settlements where every client had apparently decided that _urgent_ meant _whenever Panam finally arrived with the thing they had failed to plan for_. The money had been good. The sleep had not. The company had mostly consisted of the engine, bad radio, and people on comms asking how long until she reached somewhere she had already told them she would reach. Panam had considered murder. Professionally inappropriate. Probably. Now Night City sat several hours ahead. Not visible yet. Good. She had missed people. She had not missed Night City. Those were different problems. --- The last courier package had left her car twenty-seven minutes ago. Signed. Verified. Paid. Done. Panam had pulled away from the settlement, taken the western route, and finally let herself stop thinking in delivery windows. Her shoulders dropped. One hand loosened on the wheel. The radio muttered something useless about weather. Then the navigation display updated the next junction. Panam glanced at it. Paused. Looked again. Farm road. “Oh.” She knew that road. More importantly, she knew what sat thirty kilometers down it. Real vegetables. Real meat. Food that had not begun life as a nutritional slurry with marketing. The last time she had stopped there, she had arrived at Safehouse with enough produce to make Mai stare at the back of the vehicle for several seconds before asking whether Panam had misunderstood the meaning of _some_. Panam smiled. Then touched the comm. Shammy answered on the second tone. “Hey.” That alone did something unpleasantly warm to Panam’s chest. Shammy sounded tired. Not bad. Just tired in a way Panam recognized immediately. Panam leaned back slightly in the seat. “Hey.” A beat. Shammy: “You’re moving.” “Yeah.” “Close?” “Depends how generous you’re feeling.” “Not very.” Panam smiled. “Three hours. Maybe four.” Shammy exhaled softly. Panam could hear the smile now. “That’s close.” “Thought you’d say that.” “I’ve had lower standards lately.” Panam’s smile faded a little. There. Something beneath it. She kept her voice easy. “Everything okay?” Shammy did not answer immediately. Not avoidance. Choosing. Then: “Everyone’s home.” Panam’s hand tightened around the wheel. The road continued beneath her. Nothing changed outside. Inside the car, everything did. “Everyone?” “Everyone.” Ace. Mai. Iris. Brenda. The whole fucking mess Panam had been hearing fragments of between courier stops and bad signal. Public clips. A fight at Afterlife mentioned in messages too carefully written. Ace and Iris appearing in footage where Panam had not expected them. Reyes hitting people she loved for reasons nobody had explained over unsecured comms. Then, finally: **Alive. Complicated. We’ll tell you when you’re back.** Panam had hated every word of that message. Especially _when you’re back_. She had been nine hundred kilometers from useful. Now Shammy said everyone was home. Panam breathed. “Good.” Shammy’s answer came softer. “Yeah.” Panam let the silence sit. She wanted to ask everything. What happened. Who got hurt. How badly. Who the fuck had decided any of it was a good idea. Whether Shammy had slept. Whether Mai had. Whether Ace was actually fine or only using the word because she remained technically vertical. Not through a road comm. Not yet. Panam looked at the route display again. Farm road. Something easier first. “I’m coming past the farm.” Silence. Then Shammy laughed. Panam smiled immediately. “What?” “I know that voice.” “What voice?” “The one where you’ve already decided something and you’re pretending to ask.” “I haven’t decided anything.” “Panam.” “Fine.” She changed lanes. The farm turnoff was still twenty-five kilometers ahead. “How much do you want?” Shammy: “How full is the car?” Panam glanced toward the rear camera. Courier compartment empty. Passenger space mostly empty. One storage box. Two tools. Emergency gear. A depressing amount of room. “Not full yet.” Shammy laughed harder. Panam: “What?” “You called to ask permission to fill it.” “I called because I’m considerate.” “Of course.” “You want food or not?” “Yes.” “Useful answer.” Shammy’s voice warmed. “Bring whatever looks good.” “That is how you ended up with six crates last time.” “Yes.” “You complained.” “No. Mai complained.” “Same household.” “Different woman.” Panam smiled. Fair. --- Shammy shifted somewhere on the other end. Panam heard movement. Safehouse background. A cabinet. Someone speaking farther away. Ace, probably. Too distant to understand. Panam realized suddenly how much she had missed hearing that kind of noise behind Shammy’s voice. People. Home happening around her. Not a courier depot. Not a temporary camp. Not the inside of Panam’s car. Shammy said: “Wait.” Panam: “For?” “I need Mai.” Panam frowned. “Why?” “Money.” “I have money.” “I know.” “Then why do you need Mai?” “Because I don’t have a bank implant.” Panam closed her eyes briefly. Right. Of course. Shammy could receive money through other means, but not casually throw an instant direct transfer at Panam while standing in the Safehouse kitchen. Panam: “You don’t need to send anything.” Shammy: “I know.” “So—” “Mai.” Panam heard footsteps. Then Mai’s voice farther away. “What?” Shammy: “Panam’s passing the farm.” A pause. Mai, immediately: “How much?” Panam: “Oh, fuck off.” Ace’s voice appeared faintly in the background. “She’s buying food?” Panam closed her eyes. Of course Ace was there. Mai came closer to Shammy’s comm. “How much do you need?” “I don’t.” “Panam.” “I’ve got enough.” “I know.” “Then we have solved the problem.” “No.” Panam stared through the windshield. “You people have become worse while I was gone.” Ace, louder now: “Take the money.” Panam: “Nobody asked you.” Ace: “Still right.” “Go be tiny somewhere else.” Ace: “I’m already somewhere else.” Mai: “Ace.” “What?” Shammy was laughing. Panam could picture all three of them now. Mai standing beside Shammy. Ace somewhere in the kitchen pretending she had not entered the conversation while actively entering every possible part of it. Good. Everybody’s home. The phrase became more believable. Mai returned to the actual problem. “How much?” Panam sighed. “I don’t know yet.” “Estimate.” “It’s a farm, Mai.” “Yes.” “They have different things.” “Yes.” “I may not buy everything.” Ace: “You will.” Panam: “I am hanging up.” Shammy: “No.” That stopped her. Not because Shammy sounded demanding. Because she sounded happy. Panam smiled despite herself. “Fine.” Mai: “I’m sending enough.” “Don’t.” Too late. The transfer notification appeared on Panam’s dash. She looked at the figure. Then looked again. “Mai.” “Yes?” “That’s too much.” “Then buy more.” Panam stared at the road. Ace, instantly: “Steak.” Shammy: “Vegetables.” Ace: “I was getting there.” “You absolutely were not.” “I contain multitudes.” Panam laughed. Could not help it. The sound surprised her after days of mostly talking to clients and herself. “You people are impossible.” Mai: “Drive safely.” Panam: “Don’t change the subject.” “You have the money.” “I had money.” “Now you have ours too.” “I’m sending it back.” Ace: “Coward.” Panam: “Ace, I swear to God—” Mai: “If you send it back, I’ll send more.” Panam stopped. Shammy laughed quietly. Ace: “She will.” Panam knew that. That was the problem. “You’re all assholes.” Shammy: “Missed you too.” The words hit harder than they had any right to. Panam’s mouth opened. Closed. For once, the first dirty answer that came to mind stayed there. Not because she had lost it. Because she had missed Shammy too fucking much to cover the whole thing with banter. She looked at the road. Then said simply: “Yeah.” Shammy went quiet. Warm quiet. Panam continued: “Me too.” No one in the background interrupted. Not even Ace. Miracle. --- The farm junction appeared ahead. Panam activated the turn signal. “Twenty minutes.” Shammy: “To the farm?” “Yeah.” “Then?” Panam glanced at the route estimate. “Couple hours if they don’t trap me into talking.” “They like you.” “They like my money.” Mai: “Our money.” Panam: “Do not start.” Ace: “Steak.” Panam laughed again. “You said that.” “I remain committed.” Shammy: “Fruit too.” Mai: “And cheese if they have it.” Panam: “Anything else, your majesties?” Ace: “Coffee.” Mai: “No.” Ace: “Why?” “Because Panam is going to a farm, not conducting a raid.” Panam: “Thank you.” Ace: “Could still ask.” Panam shook her head. The turnoff came. Dust instead of highway. Fence line farther ahead. Fields beyond. She took the road. Shammy heard the tires change surface. “You turned?” “Yeah.” “Call me when you’re leaving.” Panam smiled. “Planning to track me?” “No.” “Miss me?” “Yes.” Immediate. No games. Panam’s throat tightened again. She looked out at the fields. Green where Night City rarely remembered the color existed naturally. “Good.” Shammy: “Good?” Panam smiled slowly. “Means I’m not the only one.” Shammy’s answer was soft. “No.” Panam let that sit. Then the first proper piece of her usual self resurfaced. “Keep that mood until I get there.” Shammy laughed. “Oh?” “Been gone a long time.” Mai made a small sound somewhere behind the comm. Ace: “Finally.” Panam: “Shut up.” Ace: “I said nothing.” “You literally did.” Shammy was laughing hard enough now that Panam could hear her moving the comm away. That was better. Not full strength yet. Give her a few hours. --- Panam reached the first farm marker. Old wood. Fresh paint. Same place. She slowed. “Talk later.” Shammy: “Drive.” Panam: “Yes, mom.” “Panam.” She smiled. “Love you.” The answer came without delay. “Love you too.” Panam ended the call before Ace could ruin it. The car became quiet again. But not empty. Not anymore. Panam looked at the transfer Mai had sent. Then at the farm ahead. Too much money. Too much empty cargo space. A dangerous combination. She smiled. “Fine.” Then drove toward the buildings. --- # Chapter 2 — The Farm The farm looked almost offensively peaceful. Panam pulled through the gate and slowed between two long rows of fencing. Fields stretched beyond the first buildings. Actual soil. Actual plants. No rooftop hydroponics pretending concrete counted as agriculture. No advertisement screens explaining why food substitute number twelve was emotionally equivalent to tomatoes. Just rows of green. A battered utility truck sat near the barn. Two dogs slept underneath it. One raised its head when Panam passed. Considered the situation. Put its head back down. Panam respected that. She parked beside the small market building and killed the engine. Silence arrived. Not real silence. Wind. Birds. Some kind of machinery farther out. Someone hammering metal behind the barn. Panam sat for a second with both hands still on the wheel. Then looked at Mai’s transfer again. “Too much.” The dash offered no sympathy. Panam got out. --- The market door was open. Cold air drifted from inside. Panam stepped through and immediately smelled bread. That was unfair. Fresh bread should not have been allowed to exist where a person had been eating road food for days. She stopped. Looked toward the shelves. Then toward the counter. A woman behind it looked up. Recognition came quickly. “Well.” Panam smiled. “Still here.” “So are you.” “Debatable.” The woman looked past her toward the parking area. “Empty car?” “Mostly.” “That sounds dangerous.” Panam: “Apparently I’ve been given instructions.” The woman laughed. “From who?” “People with opinions.” “Specific.” “Unfortunately.” Panam looked around. Same place. Different stock. Crates of vegetables. Wrapped cheeses. Jars. Bottles. Bread still cooling behind the counter. A refrigerated display with cuts of meat that immediately justified Ace’s existence in the earlier conversation. Panam walked toward it. “Fuck.” The woman behind the counter: “That good?” “Don’t get arrogant.” Panam crouched slightly to read the labels. Beef. Actual beef. Not reconstructed. Not vat-grown. Not protein formed into something vaguely apologizing for being meat. She looked at the price. Then at Mai’s transfer. Fine. --- The woman came around the counter. “What are you looking for?” Panam: “Everything.” “That specific again?” “Feeding people.” “How many?” Panam thought. Safehouse. Then everyone who might appear because apparently nobody in their orbit understood small gatherings anymore. “Too many.” “That helps.” “Start with meat.” “Of course.” Panam pointed. “That.” “Steaks?” “Yes.” “How many?” Panam opened her mouth. Ace’s voice returned in memory. **Steak.** She sighed. “More than reasonable.” The woman smiled. “I can work with that.” --- They started with beef. Panam intended to buy enough for one big meal. Then remembered Reyes. Marco. Shammy. Ace, who somehow ate like a person significantly larger than herself whenever steak appeared. Mai, who would pretend to calculate portions correctly while Ace stole from other plates. Brenda, who would almost certainly become distracted halfway through dinner and eat cold meat later. Iris. Kiro. Nyx. Rhea. Sol. Panam looked at the first crate. Then: “Double it.” The woman paused. “Double?” “Yes.” “You sure?” “No.” “Good.” Another wrapped stack went in. Panam stared. Then: “Actually…” The woman waited. Panam narrowed her eyes. “Don’t.” “I didn’t say anything.” “You had a face.” The woman laughed. “Another four?” Panam: “Fine.” --- Vegetables came next. Tomatoes. Real ones. Panam picked one up. Smelled it. That alone was enough. “Two crates.” The woman looked at her. Panam: “What?” “You bought one last time.” “And people complained it disappeared too fast.” “People?” “Ace.” “That sounds like one person.” “She’s loud.” “Fair.” Panam put the tomato down carefully. “Two.” Then peppers. Onions. Potatoes. Greens. Carrots. Herbs. Something purple Panam did not recognize. She held it up. “What the fuck is this?” “Eggplant.” Panam stared. The woman stared back. Panam: “I know what eggplant is.” “Apparently.” Panam narrowed her eyes. “Do not start.” The woman smiled. Panam put six in the crate. Spite purchase. --- Fruit became worse. Apples. Pears. Plums. Some small dark berries Panam tasted once and immediately decided the Safehouse needed. “Those.” “How many?” “Yes.” “That isn’t a number.” “It is now.” The woman laughed and started filling containers. Panam picked up another berry. Ate it. Then another. “You charge me for these?” “Eventually.” “Hostile.” “You’ll survive.” Panam leaned against the counter. “Probably.” --- Cheese nearly ended financial discipline entirely. Panam had not planned on cheese. That was the lie she told herself. Then she saw the first wheel. Hard cheese. Aged. Real. She picked it up. Heavy. “Mai will like this.” The woman: “Mai?” Panam froze for half a second. Not dangerous. Just habit. Friend’s name. Safe here. “Friend.” The woman nodded. No interest beyond that. Good. Panam added the cheese. Then another. Then a softer one because Shammy would absolutely like it. Then one with herbs because Brenda would probably lose her mind. Then something smoked because Reyes would act uninterested and eat half of it. Panam stared at the growing pile. “This is becoming stupid.” The woman: “You came in saying everything.” “I was emotional.” “Still counts.” --- Butter. Actual butter. Panam picked up two wrapped blocks. Then four. Then remembered Marco cooked. Six. The woman watched. Panam looked over. “What?” “Nothing.” “That is never true.” The woman pointed toward a chilled shelf. “Cream.” Panam stopped. “Oh, fuck you.” “Thought so.” Cream joined the load. So did eggs. So did another box of butter because apparently civilization had ended. --- Bread was worse because it was warm. Panam bought three loaves. Then one dark loaf. Then two smaller ones with seeds. The woman put another aside. “What’s that?” “Still warm.” Panam: “That is manipulative.” “Do you want it?” “Yes.” “Then?” “Still manipulative.” She bought it. --- Halfway through, Panam checked the transfer again. Still too much money. That annoyed her. Mai had planned for this. Probably specifically. Panam looked at the rows of jars. “Honey?” The woman pointed. Panam walked over. Local. Actual. Different batches. She picked one up. Brenda. Immediate. No reason. She just knew Brenda would see the color through the glass and become impossible. Two jars. Then four. Jam. Apricot. Berry. Something spicy. Panam bought that too because Ace would taste it without asking and complain theatrically. Excellent. --- The first load reached the car. Panam opened the rear. Empty cargo space looked back at her. The woman behind her: “You said mostly empty.” “It was.” “Still is.” Panam turned. “Careful.” The woman smiled. They loaded meat first into cold storage. Then cheese. Butter. Cream. Eggs. Vegetables packed around them. Bread up front. Fruit where it would not get crushed. Panam stepped back. Maybe a third full. She looked at it. Then at the farm building. Then back. “Fuck.” The woman: “Problem?” “Mai sent too much.” “Mai sounds practical.” “She’s a menace.” “Same thing sometimes.” Panam considered. Fair. --- She went back inside. The second pass was less disciplined. Panam found smoked meat. Bought it. Dried herbs. Bought those. Fresh pasta. Why the fuck did a farm have fresh pasta? Did not matter. Bought it. Pickled vegetables. Sauces. Three different kinds of beans. A bag of flour because Mai would probably find a use. Sugar. Coffee? No. Ace had asked. Panam walked past it deliberately. Then stopped. Turned. Looked. The farm had coffee from another local trader. Not grown there. Obviously. Still good. Panam picked up one bag. Looked at it. Then remembered Ace’s voice. **Could still ask.** “Fine.” Two bags. Spite again. --- The woman behind the counter looked at the growing stack. “Big family?” Panam paused. The word landed differently than expected. Not wrong. Not exactly right either. She looked toward the car through the open door. “Something like that.” The woman nodded. No follow-up. Good. Panam added another loaf. --- She found wine by accident. Not because it was hidden. Because she had been looking at vinegar. A row of dark bottles sat on the next shelf. Handwritten labels. Simple. No chrome foil. No luxury branding. Panam picked one up. “Local?” “Mostly.” “Mostly?” “Grapes from south of here. Made nearby.” Panam turned the bottle. Natural fermentation. No synthetic flavor correction. No fortified bullshit. Interesting. “Good?” The woman looked offended. Panam smiled. “Question answered.” “You want to try it?” Panam looked at the bottle. Then toward the car. Then at the time. “Small.” The woman poured a little into a tasting glass. Panam smelled it first. Then tasted. Stopped. Looked at the glass. “Oh.” The woman smiled. Panam took another small sip. Better than expected. Dry. Clean. Enough body to survive food. Not trying to taste expensive. Actually good. Shammy would like it. That thought came first. Panam smiled. Then Mai. Lena. Iris probably. Reyes, depending on mood. Ace would absolutely claim she understood wine and then drink whatever was nearest. Brenda would like the bottle label before the wine. Panam looked at the shelf. “One case.” The woman: “Only one?” Panam stared. The woman raised both hands. “Nothing.” Panam looked at Mai’s transfer. Still too much. “Two.” The woman smiled. Panam: “Do not.” --- Two cases went toward the growing load. Then Panam reconsidered. Not because of later plans. No later plan existed. Because good wine survived storage. And because the Safehouse always seemed to produce more people than chairs. “One more.” The woman stopped. “Three?” Panam: “I have irresponsible friends.” “Clearly.” Panam: “And one very tall girlfriend.” The woman looked toward the cases. “Relevant?” “She drinks.” “Fair.” Panam smiled. There. Shammy. The thought no longer hurt. It pulled. Homeward. --- By the third loading trip, the car had become a problem. Not full. Close. Panam stood with both hands on her hips. Crates stacked correctly. Cold compartment packed. Bread protected. Wine secured. Fruit safe. Vegetables occupying the remaining sane spaces. The woman stood beside her. “You could stop.” Panam: “I could.” Neither moved. Panam looked at the still-open market. Then at the car. Then back. “What am I missing?” The woman considered. “Chocolate.” Panam turned slowly. “Fuck you.” “Local.” “Of course.” “Small batch.” “Of course.” “Dark.” Panam closed her eyes. “Bring it.” --- Chocolate. Then nuts. Then some preserved fruit because why not destroy reason completely. The woman handed Panam one final paper bag. “What’s this?” “Cookies.” “I did not buy cookies.” “No.” Panam stared. “Then?” “Road food.” Panam looked at her. The woman: “You’ve been driving too long.” Panam’s expression softened slightly. “Thanks.” “Don’t get emotional.” Panam smiled. “Dangerous.” --- They closed the rear hatch. Panam looked at the car. Full. Not mechanically overloaded. Emotionally overloaded. She opened the driver’s door. Then stopped. Looked at the receipt. Long. Very long. Mai’s transfer had covered it. Still money left. Panam stared. “No.” She opened the bank interface. Prepared to send the remainder back. Her comm chimed. Message from Ace. **did you get steak** Panam stared at it. Then laughed. Typed: **no** Response arrived immediately. **liar** Panam: **starve** Ace: **mai says dont send money back** Panam froze. Looked around as if Mai might somehow be standing behind the car. Then typed: **how the fuck** Ace: **she knows you** Another message. **also i know your face and youre making it right now** Panam: **you cant see my face** Ace: **still right** Panam closed the comm. “Asshole.” The woman near the door: “What?” “Nothing.” “You have a face.” Panam turned. “Everyone has become infected.” The woman laughed. --- Panam got into the car. Set the cookies on the passenger seat. Started the engine. The suspension settled under the new load. She checked mirrors. Then the rear camera. Crates. Cases. Food. Too much. Exactly enough. She touched the comm. Shammy answered almost immediately. “You leaving?” Panam smiled. “Yeah.” “How bad?” “What?” “The car.” Panam looked toward the rear camera again. “Define bad.” Shammy laughed. “Oh no.” “Mai sent too much.” “That sounds like Mai.” “So I bought more.” “That sounds like you.” Panam leaned back. “Your fault.” “Mine?” “You said whatever looks good.” “I did.” “Everything looked good.” Shammy’s laughter warmed the entire cabin. Panam closed her eyes for half a second. Then opened them. Road. Home. Soon. Shammy: “How full?” Panam: “Yes.” A beat. Then Ace shouted somewhere in the background: “STEAK?” Panam smiled. “Tell the gremlin she gets nothing.” Ace, clearly closer now: “I heard that.” “Excellent.” Mai’s voice appeared: “Drive.” Panam: “Bossy.” “Yes.” Panam shook her head. Then Shammy’s voice came close again. “Come home.” That quieted her. Panam looked toward the farm gate. Then the road beyond. “On my way.” She ended the call. Put the car in gear. And headed west with enough food behind her to feed a small militia. Which, considering the Safehouse, was probably the correct unit of measurement. --- # Chapter 3 — Panam’s Back Shammy stopped in the middle of a sentence. Ace noticed first. Of course she did. Shammy had been standing near the kitchen table, one hand resting against the back of a chair while Marco argued with Reyes about whether three different marinades constituted planning or indecision. Then the air changed. Not much. A fraction of pressure. Enough that Ace’s short black hair stirred at the edges. Shammy went still. Her silver-white hair did the opposite. The first strands lifted from her shoulders. Slowly. Not wind. There was no wind. More followed. A pale corona beginning to rise around her head as faint static moved through the Safehouse. Ace looked up. Then grinned. “Oh.” Shammy’s electric-blue eyes brightened. Not dramatically. Enough. Mai turned from the kitchen counter. “What?” Ace pointed at Shammy. Mai looked. The hair had risen another centimeter. A faint ionized gradient moved through the silver-white strands. Shammy looked toward the outer wall. Not the door. Farther. As though the concrete had become less interesting than whatever existed beyond it. Her expression changed. Warmth first. Then recognition. Then something so openly pleased that Ace’s grin became dangerous. Mai saw it too. Said nothing. Which was worse. --- Kiro looked up from her slate. “Pressure changed.” Ace: “No.” Kiro blinked. “I didn’t ask.” “You were going to explain it.” “I was going to say—” “No.” Kiro looked at Shammy’s hair. Then toward the security display. Then back. “Oh.” Reyes followed her gaze. “What?” Ace leaned against the table. “Panam.” Reyes looked toward the still-silent access system. “No chime.” Ace: “Doesn’t need one.” Shammy finally looked at her. Ace smiled sweetly. “Miss her?” Shammy’s mouth softened before she could hide it. Ace’s smile widened. Shammy: “Yes.” No embarrassment. No denial. Just the truth. That stole half of Ace’s ammunition. Only half. “Apparently.” Shammy’s eyes narrowed with amused warning. The static around her strengthened enough that a loose paper near the table edge shifted. Ace looked at it. Then at Shammy. “Very apparently.” Mai: “Ace.” “I am observing.” “You are surviving on borrowed time.” Ace looked delighted. --- Marco had stopped arguing with Reyes. He looked at Shammy. Then toward Lena. Lena had already understood. She picked up one of the chairs near the main path and moved it aside. No announcement. No joke. Just clearing space. Marco smiled. Shammy noticed. Her expression softened toward both of them. A quiet orbit warmth. Then her attention returned immediately to the outer wall. Panam. Primary. No competition. No confusion. Just different gravity. --- Brenda had become fascinated. “Her hair is actually standing up.” Iris: “Yes.” “Like all of it.” “Not all.” Brenda leaned sideways for a better view. Another section lifted. Brenda: “More now.” Iris looked at Shammy. Then at Brenda. “Yes.” Brenda whispered: “That is so fucking cute.” Shammy heard. Of course. Her eyes turned toward Brenda. Brenda froze. “I said that quietly.” Shammy: “You did.” Brenda looked at Iris. “Unfair.” Iris smiled. “Frequently.” --- The Safehouse security system remained silent. For another four seconds. Then Shammy inhaled. Her head tilted slightly. A smile appeared. “She turned into the approach.” Kiro looked toward the security display. Nothing yet. Ace immediately: “Timing.” Kiro: “I am not timing her.” “You want to.” “Yes.” “Don’t.” “Why?” “Because Panam will kill you.” Reyes: “Eventually.” Mai: “Stop helping.” Reyes smiled. --- Then the security system chimed. Kiro looked at Shammy. Shammy looked serenely pleased. Kiro whispered: “Four point—” Ace put one finger in front of her face. “No.” Kiro closed her mouth. Reyes laughed. --- The vehicle ID appeared on the security feed. Panam. Now the entire room moved. Shammy moved first. Not running. Almost worse. One moment beside the table. The next already crossing toward the access corridor with long, decisive strides, hair still floating around her shoulders in charged silver-white strands. Ace watched her go. “Fast.” Mai: “Yes.” Ace: “She’s pretending not to be.” “Yes.” Shammy, without turning: “I can hear both of you.” Ace: “Good.” The pressure shifted. Ace laughed. --- Panam’s car entered the secure approach. Shammy stopped before the inner door. Waiting. Barely. Her hands flexed once at her sides. That was unusual enough for Mai to notice. Shammy was usually the person who made everyone else’s pressure easier to survive. Now her own atmosphere had nowhere to hide. The air close to her felt warmer. Then cooler. Static moved along the wall panel. Her hair refused gravity entirely now, silver-white strands lifting around her head and shoulders in slow atmospheric motion. Ace came up behind Mai. Not too close to Shammy. Mostly because she enjoyed remaining alive. “She’s going to explode.” Shammy turned her head. “Ace.” Ace smiled. “Emotionally.” Shammy: “Closer.” Mai closed her eyes. Reyes laughed behind them. Panam had not even entered yet. Excellent. --- The outer door cycled. Panam stepped into the transition corridor carrying one paper bag. Dust on her boots. Road grime along the lower edge of her jacket. Hair carrying several hours of arguments with open windows, dry air, and apparently no interest in compromise. Tired. Very tired. She took two steps. Then saw Shammy through the inner glass. Stopped. Panam had known Shammy missed her. They had said it. On comms. Easy enough with kilometers between them. Seeing it was different. Shammy stood nearly two meters tall behind the glass, electric-blue eyes bright, silver-white hair lifted around her in a visible field of atmospheric betrayal. Panam stared. The corner of Ace’s head appeared behind Mai in the background. Panam saw the grin. “Oh, fuck off.” Ace’s voice came faintly through the door. “I said nothing.” Panam: “You don’t have to.” Mai looked at Ace. Ace looked innocent. Historically implausible. --- The inner door opened. Shammy did not wait. Neither did Panam. The paper bag hit the nearest surface. Panam crossed the remaining distance fast. Shammy met her. The hug landed with enough force that Panam’s boots shifted half a step across the floor. Then Shammy closed around her completely. Long arms. Warm body. Hair still floating in the charged air around them. Panam buried her face against Shammy’s chest. Held on. Hard. Shammy’s face disappeared briefly into Panam’s hair. For several seconds, nothing else in the Safehouse mattered. Panam breathed in. Paint. Skin. Faint ozone. Shammy. Her shoulders dropped. Not all at once. By degrees. Road tension leaving where Shammy touched her. Shammy’s atmosphere changed with it. The static did not vanish. It softened. Pressure equalizing around both of them. Panam tightened her arms. “Fuck.” Shammy’s voice came above her. “Hi.” Panam laughed once against her. Quiet. “Hi.” --- She did not let go. Nobody expected her to. Panam had been gone long enough that her absence had become part of the Safehouse rhythm. Three days. Then more. Then weeks. Messages from roads. Bad signal. Courier delays. One call missed. Another late. Shammy sleeping with Panam’s last message still on the display beside her. Now Panam was physically there. Dust and irritation and exhaustion and everything. Shammy’s hands moved over her back. Not checking. Remembering. Panam finally lifted her face. Had to look up. Considerably. Shammy looked down. Her hair still floated around them. Panam touched one silver-white strand. It curled lightly around her fingers from the static. She stared. “Seriously?” Shammy smiled. “I missed you.” Panam looked at the hair. Then her eyes. Then the room. Everybody watching. Of course. She closed her eyes. “Fucking hell.” Ace: “Very subtle.” Panam, without looking: “I will throw you into traffic.” Ace: “There she is.” Shammy laughed. The pressure in the room warmed with it. --- Panam looked back up. The teasing dropped away from her face. Shammy saw. No need to ask. Panam reached up, caught Shammy behind the neck, and pulled. Shammy bent willingly. They kissed. Not greeting-brief. Not polite. Long. Loving. The accumulated distance finally getting somewhere physical to go. Panam kissed her with both hands holding her close. Shammy answered with equal certainty, one hand at Panam’s waist and the other sliding into her road-tangled hair. The kiss stayed tender at first. Relief. Recognition. _You’re here._ Then it deepened naturally. Not urgency. Not yet. Panam had been gone too long to waste the first proper contact by trying to devour the whole absence in ten seconds. Shammy’s atmosphere responded anyway. Her silver-white hair lifted higher. Static prickled faintly through the Safehouse. The pressure around them tightened, then opened. A nearby loose wrapper slid two centimeters across the counter. Kiro saw. Opened her mouth. Ace looked at her. Kiro closed it. Good survival instinct. --- Panam felt the static against her cheek. She pulled back half an inch. Not out of the kiss. Enough to breathe. “You’re doing the thing.” Shammy’s eyes were bright. “What thing?” Panam looked pointedly at the hair floating around both of them. Shammy: “Oh.” Panam stared. “Oh?” Shammy smiled. “I’m happy.” That stopped Panam completely. No defense. No filthy comeback. No threat. For one second she looked almost painfully unarmored. Shammy saw that too. Of course. Panam muttered: “Bitch.” Very softly. Shammy kissed her again. Panam immediately surrendered the argument. --- This kiss lasted longer. Not because anyone was counting. Because neither wanted to stop. Shammy bent enough that Panam did not have to strain upward. Panam leaned into her fully now. Tired enough to accept being held. Safe enough to do it in front of everyone. Shammy held her like the road had finally returned something important. Panam’s hands moved down Shammy’s back. Then around her waist. Stayed. Nothing performative. No one being marked. Just touch after absence. When they eventually separated, Panam stayed pressed against Shammy. Forehead against her chest. Breathing. Shammy kissed the top of her head. Panam’s voice came muffled. “If anyone says anything—” Reyes: “You’ll what?” Panam lifted one hand without moving from Shammy. Middle finger. The room broke. Marco laughed first. Then Brenda. Rhea. Sol. Nyx. Kiro. Ace folded against Mai. Reyes looked delighted. Panam remained exactly where she was. “Fuck every one of you.” Ace, laughing: “Later?” Panam’s head lifted. There. The old Panam flashed through. She looked directly at Ace. “Careful, tiny. I’ve been on the road for weeks.” Ace’s eyebrows went up. Reyes made an appreciative noise. Shammy’s eyes brightened with entirely unhelpful amusement. Ace saw. Then saw Panam see. Panam’s expression changed. “Oh, come on.” Ace was already dying. “Your girlfriend has subtitles.” Shammy: “I like subtitles.” Panam looked up at her. “You are not helping.” “I wasn’t trying to.” That made Panam laugh. Full. Actual. Her body relaxed against Shammy again. --- Mai eventually stepped closer. Not interrupting. Waiting until Panam noticed. Panam did. “Hey.” Mai smiled. “Hey.” Shammy loosened enough for Panam to turn, but one arm remained around her. Panam did not move out of it. Mai noticed. Said nothing. Also wise. Panam looked around. Everyone. Ace bruised. Iris bruised. Reyes bruised. A lot of suspicious healing faces. Her warmth shifted. Not gone. Focused. “You all look like shit.” Ace: “Love you too.” Panam looked at her split lip. Then Reyes’s jaw. Then Iris’s arm. “What the fuck happened?” Mai: “Later.” Panam’s eyes narrowed. Reyes: “It’s a good later.” Panam looked at Shammy. Shammy nodded. “Everyone is here.” Panam looked at her. The same words from the call. Different weight now. She scanned the room once more. Everybody. Actually everybody. Panam breathed out. “Fine.” Then: “Later.” She let it go. For now. --- Brenda lasted six seconds. Her eyes had moved past Panam. Toward the access corridor. Then farther. “The car.” Panam looked at her. “What?” Brenda pointed. “You filled it.” Panam: “You haven’t seen it.” “You said you would.” “I said maybe.” Ace: “She filled it.” Panam turned. “How do you know?” Ace: “You have the face.” Panam stared. Mai looked away. Reyes smiled. Shammy was openly delighted. Panam pointed at all of them. “This house has become unbearable.” Marco: “Become?” Lena touched his arm. “Careful.” Panam looked at Marco. Then Lena. Her expression softened again. “Missed you too.” Marco smiled. “We know.” Lena: “Car first.” Panam: “You too?” Lena: “If there is dairy in there, yes.” Panam stared. Then laughed. “Fine.” --- The entire room began moving. Shammy did not. Panam took one step. Stopped because Shammy’s arm was still around her waist. Looked up. Shammy looked down. Panam: “You coming?” “Yes.” “Then?” Shammy’s smile became very small. “I’m still enjoying this.” Panam stared. Then leaned into her deliberately. “Five seconds.” Ace: “I heard that.” Panam: “Make it ten.” Ace: “Worth it.” Shammy laughed. The silver-white hair around her finally began to settle. Not completely. A few charged strands still floated near Panam. Panam noticed. Touched one. Then looked at Shammy. “Later.” Shammy’s eyes brightened again. “Yes.” Panam immediately regretted how much meaning she had accidentally put into one word. Ace noticed. Obviously. Panam pointed at her before Ace could speak. “No.” Ace raised both hands. Panam: “No face either.” Ace attempted innocence. Failed. Shammy bent and kissed Panam once more. Shorter. Still warm enough to make Panam forget Ace existed for exactly one second. Then Shammy released her. Mostly. Their hands remained linked. Panam looked down at them. Did not complain. --- They reached the vehicle together. Brenda arrived first somehow. Iris directly behind her. Ace close behind despite Mai clearly having told her not to run. Marco and Lena together. Rhea and Sol. Nyx. Kiro. Reyes. The whole fucking household gathering around Panam’s car like she had brought back contraband from another reality. Panam stopped at the rear hatch. Looked at all of them. Then Shammy. Shammy’s hair had almost settled now. Almost. Panam smiled. “So.” Ace: “Open.” Panam: “You people haven’t changed at all.” Mai: “Open the car.” Panam looked at her. “You too?” Mai: “There may be meat spoiling while you complain.” Panam considered. Fair. She opened the hatch. --- Silence. Panam enjoyed every second. Ace stared into the packed cargo space. Marco leaned sideways. Lena looked over his shoulder. Brenda’s mouth opened. Closed. Opened again. Reyes slowly smiled. Kiro whispered: “Oh.” Nyx: “Holy shit.” Panam folded her arms. Shammy stood beside her, visibly pleased with everything. Ace finally looked up. “…Panam.” Panam: “What?” Ace pointed into the car. “What the fuck?” Panam shrugged. “Mai sent too much money.” Mai stared at the cargo. “That is not an explanation.” Panam: “You told me to buy more.” “I did not mean all available agriculture.” Ace leaned toward the first crate. “Is that steak?” Panam: “No.” Ace looked at her. Panam looked back. Ace: “Liar.” Panam smiled. “Yeah.” Brenda suddenly pointed deeper into the cargo. “What’s in that box?” Panam followed the finger. “No fucking idea.” Brenda moved. Iris caught the back of her jacket. “Cold storage first.” Brenda: “But—” Mai: “Cold storage first.” Ace: “Open one.” Mai: “No.” Ace: “One.” “No.” Panam looked at Shammy. Shammy looked down at her. Panam: “I missed this?” Shammy smiled. “Very much.” Panam sighed. Then kissed her cheek. “Yeah.” She had too. --- # Chapter 4 — What the Fuck Did You Buy? Mai took one look at the packed cargo space and became logistics. “Meat first.” Ace: “Steak first.” “Meat.” “Specificity matters.” “Cold storage.” Panam leaned against the open hatch. “You asked for food.” Mai looked at her. “I asked how much you needed.” “Same conversation.” “No.” Shammy stood beside Panam, one hand still resting comfortably at her waist. Most of her hair had settled. Most. A few silver-white strands still floated near Panam’s shoulder, moving in air that did not touch anyone else. Panam noticed one curl toward her face. She smiled. Did not mention it. --- Marco stepped forward. “Give me the first cold crate.” Panam pointed. “Bottom left.” He reached in. Lena immediately: “Not that one.” Marco stopped. “Why?” “That’s wine.” Marco looked at the crate. Then Panam. “Why is the wine in the cold section?” “It isn’t.” Lena pointed one crate lower. “That is the cold section.” Marco looked again. “Oh.” Panam folded her arms. Ace: “Strong start.” Marco: “You are carrying bread.” Ace looked at the loaf in her arms. “Important cargo.” Lena: “You’ve already eaten part of it.” Ace looked down. One end was missing. “Damage in transit.” Panam stared. “That was intact thirty seconds ago.” Ace: “Night City.” Reyes laughed. --- Mai opened the first proper cold crate. Stopped. Looked at Panam. Then lifted one wrapped cut. “Panam.” “What?” “This is enough steak for—” Ace appeared at Mai’s shoulder. “Us.” Mai looked down at her. Ace: “What?” Reyes leaned over the crate. “Holy shit.” Panam smiled. “Good?” Reyes picked up another package. “Very.” Mai: “Back in the crate.” Reyes: “I’m inspecting.” “No.” Reyes put it back. Slowly. Ace watched with visible pain. Panam looked at her. “You’ll survive.” Ace: “Unconfirmed.” --- Marco took the crate. Lena took the next. They moved toward the Safehouse kitchen together. Panam watched them disappear through the access corridor. Then Rhea stepped up. “What next?” “Vegetables.” Sol looked into the car. “How many?” Panam: “Yes.” Rhea laughed. “Helpful.” Panam pointed. “Green crates. Not the one under the bread.” Sol: “Why?” “Eggs.” Rhea looked at Panam. Then at the load. Then at Panam again. “You packed this yourself?” “With help.” “Professionally?” Panam: “Define professionally.” Sol smiled. Rhea: “Fair.” They took the first vegetable crate between them and headed inside. --- Brenda had been trying to remain useful. Trying. Iris could see the effort. She had started with one small box of peppers. Then noticed a bag beside it. Then a jar through the side of another crate. Then something wrapped in paper. Her attention changed direction each time before her feet did. Iris stayed beside her. Not stopping. Redirecting when necessary. Brenda pointed. “What’s that?” Panam followed the line. “Jam.” “What kind?” “No idea.” Brenda put the peppers down. Iris immediately picked them up. “Brenda.” “I’m just looking.” “You were carrying those.” “I know.” “You stopped.” “I needed both hands.” “For jam?” “Yes.” Panam laughed. “Let her.” Iris looked at Panam. Panam: “I bought four kinds.” Brenda turned so quickly the air almost went with her. “Four?” “Maybe five.” “You don’t know?” “I bought a lot of shit.” Brenda looked deeply impressed. Iris closed her eyes for half a second. Then smiled. “Go.” Brenda went. --- Ace reached into the car. Mai: “No.” Ace froze. Her hand remained suspended over a small paper-wrapped package. “I’m not lifting.” “You’re stealing.” “Unknown.” Panam: “Smoked meat.” Ace’s fingers moved closer. Mai: “Ace.” Ace withdrew her hand. “Authoritarian food regime.” Reyes: “Need help?” “Yes.” Reyes reached past her. Ace brightened. Reyes took the entire crate and walked away. Ace stared. “Bitch.” Reyes looked over her shoulder. “Same side.” Ace smiled despite herself. “Barely.” --- Kiro had found the labels. That was a mistake. She crouched beside the cargo space with one hand on a crate and the other holding her slate. Panam looked down. “What are you doing?” “Inventory.” “No.” Kiro looked up. Mai, from the corridor: “No.” Kiro stared between them. “This would be easier if—” Panam: “Carry something.” Kiro: “I am making carrying more efficient.” Nyx appeared beside her. “Told you.” Kiro looked offended. Nyx took the slate. Kiro: “Hey.” Nyx handed her a crate. “Congratulations. Physical interface.” Kiro stared. Panam laughed. --- Inside, the kitchen was losing the war. Mai had started with zones. Cold. Dry. Immediate use. Storage. Wine. Then Panam’s volume collided with available surface area. Marco set down another crate. “Where?” Mai looked around. “Table.” Lena: “Table is full.” “Counter.” “Also full.” Ace walked in carrying one loaf and eating another piece. Mai looked at her. “Where did you get that?” Ace: “Table.” “The table is full because you keep moving things.” “I am reducing volume.” Marco: “She has a point.” Lena looked at him. “No.” Marco: “Small point.” Ace smiled. “Validated.” --- Brenda entered carrying three jars. Iris came behind her with the peppers Brenda had abandoned. Brenda put the jars down. “Look.” Mai: “At?” “This.” She held up the first. “Honey.” “Yes.” Second. “Jam.” “Yes.” Third. Mai looked. “Also jam.” Brenda: “Different.” “I can see that.” “No, look.” Mai looked properly. Dark berry. Apricot. Something red with chili in it. Brenda pointed. “That one is spicy.” Ace appeared. “Mine.” Brenda pulled it away. “You don’t know if you like it.” Ace: “Exactly.” Panam entered behind them carrying another crate. “Bought it because I knew you’d do that.” Ace looked at her. “Love you.” Panam: “Eat it with something.” Ace: “No promises.” Mai: “Yes promises.” Ace sighed. --- Shammy came in last from that trip carrying two crates at once as if they weighed nothing. Panam looked up at her. “You’re showing off.” Shammy: “No.” “Yes.” “I’m carrying.” “Two.” Shammy smiled. Panam’s eyes narrowed with affection. “Freak.” Shammy set the crates down. Bent. Kissed Panam’s forehead. “Missed you.” Panam’s face softened immediately. “Yeah.” Ace saw. Of course. Panam saw Ace see. “Don’t.” Ace bit her lower lip. Actually tried. Reyes came in behind her. Looked at Ace. Then Panam. Then Shammy. Her smile became dangerous. Panam pointed at both of them. “Not one fucking word.” Reyes: “I said nothing.” Ace broke first. Laughter. Panam closed her eyes. Shammy’s mouth twitched. Reyes saw. That made it worse. Within seconds half the kitchen was laughing. Panam remained pressed against Shammy’s side. “Fuck all of you.” Shammy: “You keep saying that.” Panam looked up. “Not you.” Reyes made a noise. Panam: “Especially you.” Reyes laughed harder. --- Marco opened another crate. Then stopped. “Cheese.” Lena leaned beside him. “How much?” Marco lifted one wheel. Then another. Then a wrapped soft cheese. Then something smoked. He looked at Panam. Panam: “What?” “You bought a dairy counter.” “Mai sent money.” Mai: “Please stop blaming me.” Panam: “You funded the crime.” Ace: “Accomplice.” Mai looked at her. Ace took another bite of bread. --- Lena picked up the smoked cheese. Reyes noticed instantly. “That.” Lena: “What?” “That one.” “Yes.” “I want it.” Lena: “Later.” Reyes: “I was just saying.” “You were reaching.” Reyes looked at her own hand. It was halfway there. She withdrew it. “Circumstantial.” Marco smiled. Lena put the cheese back. Panam looked between them. “You two have been hanging around Ace too much.” Marco: “Contagious.” Ace raised her bread. “Culture.” --- Rhea and Sol arrived with the second vegetable crate. Rhea put it down. “Tomatoes.” Brenda appeared so fast Panam almost checked whether Shammy had somehow learned teleportation and shared it. “Where?” Sol pointed. Brenda opened the crate. Stopped. Her whole face lit. “Oh my God.” Iris came up behind her. Brenda lifted one tomato. “Iris.” “I see it.” “No, smell.” Iris leaned closer. Smelled it. A pause. Then: “Okay.” Brenda looked triumphant. “Right?” “Yes.” Panam leaned against the counter. “Two crates.” Brenda turned. “Two?” “Yes.” “Why?” Panam shrugged. “Last time they disappeared.” Ace: “I was hungry.” Mai: “You ate six.” Ace looked genuinely thoughtful. “Over time.” Reyes: “One afternoon.” “Time.” Panam laughed. --- Brenda held the tomato out to Iris again. “You want one now?” “Not before washing it.” Brenda: “Right.” She put it down. Then saw another crate. “What’s that?” Iris: “Brenda.” “What?” “You were washing a tomato.” “I know.” “You’re walking away.” “I’ll come back.” Iris picked up the tomato. Panam looked at her. Iris: “Yes.” Panam: “You’ve adapted.” Iris smiled. “Constantly.” --- The next crate contained fruit. Brenda forgot the tomato entirely. Apples. Pears. Plums. Dark berries. She stopped at the berries. “What are these?” Panam: “Good.” “That is not a species.” “I forgot.” Brenda tasted one. Her eyes widened. “Oh.” Ace reached. Brenda slapped her hand away. Ace stared. Brenda: “Wash.” Ace: “You didn’t.” “I tested.” Ace: “Corruption.” Iris: “She has a point.” Brenda looked delighted. Ace looked betrayed. Panam laughed again. The road felt farther away every minute. --- Nyx carried the first wine case inside. Set it down. “Where?” Mai pointed toward the lower storage rack. “Not all of it. One case accessible.” Panam looked at her. Mai: “What?” “Planning already?” “For dinner.” Panam smiled. “Sure.” Mai ignored that. Nyx opened the case just enough to see the bottles. “No branding.” “Local.” “Good?” Panam: “Yes.” Nyx looked skeptical. Panam: “I tasted it.” Nyx’s eyebrows rose. Reyes: “On the road?” “At the farm.” Ace: “Professional.” Panam: “Small taste.” Shammy took one bottle. Read the label. Panam watched her. “You’ll like it.” Shammy looked down. “You thought of me?” Panam stared. “Obviously.” Shammy smiled. Panam’s expression softened. The kitchen went suspiciously quiet. Panam looked around. “No.” Ace: “What?” “Whatever all of you are thinking.” Brenda: “I’m thinking about chocolate.” Panam paused. “Fair.” Then: “Wait.” Brenda’s head snapped up. “Chocolate?” Panam realized her mistake. Too late. --- “What chocolate?” Brenda was already scanning the remaining boxes. Panam pointed at one small package near the rear door. “Dark.” Brenda moved. Iris followed. Ace followed Brenda. Mai: “No one opens it yet.” Brenda: “Why?” “Because we are still unloading.” Ace: “We can unload while eating.” Mai looked at her. Ace: “Proven technique.” Panam: “She ate half a loaf.” Ace: “Reduction strategy.” Marco: “Still technically correct.” Lena touched his arm. “No.” Marco sighed. “Apparently not.” --- The last cold crate came inside. Then eggs. Then cream. Then butter. Marco lifted one block. Lena looked at him. He immediately: “This one is butter.” Lena smiled. “Good.” Panam watched. “What happened before I got here?” Marco: “Nothing.” Lena: “He thought butter was steak.” “I did not.” Ace: “He did.” Marco: “You were outside.” Ace: “Information travels.” Kiro: “I heard it.” Marco looked at her. Kiro smiled. “Network effect.” Panam leaned against Shammy and laughed until her stomach hurt. --- Finally Mai looked toward the access corridor. “How much left?” Panam thought. “Dry goods.” Mai waited. “And?” “Wine.” “We have wine.” “Two more cases.” Mai closed her eyes. “And?” Panam hesitated. Ace noticed. “Oh.” Panam: “Don’t.” “You forgot something.” “No.” “You have the face.” Panam looked at Shammy. Shammy smiled. Traitor. Mai: “Panam.” Panam sighed. “Coffee.” Ace went completely still. Then turned. Slowly. “You bought coffee.” Panam: “Two bags.” Ace looked emotionally overwhelmed. Mai: “You told her not to.” Panam: “I know.” Ace walked over. Panam pointed. “Do not hug me over coffee.” Ace hugged her. Panam closed her eyes. “Tiny asshole.” Ace squeezed. “Love you.” Panam’s arms came around her despite herself. “Yeah.” Then: “Still not giving you the steak first.” Ace released her. “We’ll negotiate.” “No.” “We always negotiate.” “No.” Ace smiled. Panam knew this battle would last until dinner. Fine. She had missed those too. --- The final trip took everyone. Not because it required everyone. Because nobody wanted to stop. Wine. Dry goods. Nuts. Flour. Pasta. Preserved vegetables. Coffee. Chocolate. Honey. Jam. The cookies Panam had forgotten in the passenger seat. Brenda found those. Naturally. “You said road food.” Panam: “I forgot.” Brenda: “Can we open them?” Mai: “Yes.” Everybody turned. Mai looked around. “What?” Ace: “That was easy.” Mai: “They are cookies.” Ace: “And chocolate?” “No.” Ace sighed. Panam took one cookie. Handed it to Shammy first. Shammy smiled. Took a bite. Then offered the other half back. Panam ate it from her fingers. Ace watched. Panam turned her head. “Say it.” Ace: “I value my life.” Reyes: “Coward.” Ace: “You say it.” Reyes looked at Panam. Then Shammy. Then the hair beginning to stir again. “No.” Ace smiled. “Exactly.” --- The car was finally empty. The Safehouse was not. Boxes everywhere. Food on every usable surface. Refrigeration full. Secondary cold storage activated. Wine stacked. Bread protected from Ace with limited success. Brenda sitting cross-legged beside an open dry-goods crate, examining three different jars as though she had discovered archaeological artifacts. Iris beside her, eating the tomato Brenda had originally intended to wash. Panam saw. Pointed. Iris looked down. Then up. “Washed.” Panam laughed. --- Marco and Lena stood by the kitchen table going through the remaining cheeses together. Marco read labels. Lena decided where each went. Rhea and Sol had taken over vegetables with quiet efficiency. Kiro was finally allowed to create an actual inventory because Mai had realized there was now enough food to justify one. Nyx opened the first wine bottle. Reyes found glasses. Ace hovered near the steak with predatory patience. Mai looked around. Then at Panam. “You bought too much.” Panam folded her arms. “You sent too much.” Mai: “I would send it again.” Panam: “I know.” There was no real argument left in it. Panam looked across the room. Friends. Lovers. People she had missed. People who had been hurt while she was gone. People laughing now. Shammy came up behind her. One arm wrapped around Panam’s middle. Panam leaned back automatically. Shammy bent until her mouth was near Panam’s ear. “Thank you.” Panam looked sideways. “For food?” “For coming back.” That hit harder. Panam turned in her arms. Looked up. Shammy’s silver-white hair had settled almost completely now. Soft around her shoulders. Only the faintest charged movement near the ends. Panam touched it. Then Shammy’s cheek. “Always planned to.” “I know.” Panam smiled. Then kissed her. Slow. Warm. No audience mattered. When they separated, Reyes called from the kitchen: “Panam.” Panam did not look away from Shammy. “What?” “How attached are you to the smoked cheese?” Panam closed her eyes. Shammy laughed. Panam turned. “Touch it and lose a finger.” Reyes: “Now you sound normal.” Panam smiled. Maybe she did. --- # Chapter 5 — First Taste The first bottle lasted eleven minutes. Not because anyone was trying. Because there were too many glasses and too many people who wanted to know whether Panam’s judgment had survived several weeks of road food. Nyx poured first. Small measures. Mai watched the level in each glass. Ace watched the bottle. Reyes watched Ace. Panam watched all three and regretted coming home. “Why are you looking at it like that?” Ace looked up. “Like what?” “Like you’re planning a crime.” “I’m sitting.” “You commit crimes sitting down.” Reyes: “She does.” Ace turned. “You’re supposed to be on my side.” “I am.” “That wasn’t supportive.” “Reality isn’t always supportive.” Panam smiled into her glass. There. A little more familiar. --- Shammy stood close enough that her hip rested against Panam’s. Not clinging. Not necessary. Just contact maintained because weeks apart had made unnecessary distance feel stupid. Her hair had finally settled fully around her shoulders. Mostly. Every time Panam touched her, a few strands betrayed her again. Panam had started watching for it. Shammy had started pretending not to notice Panam watching. Neither was convincing. Nyx handed Shammy a glass. Then Panam. “Your crime. You first.” Panam: “I already tasted it.” “Then you’re the control.” “That is not how controls work.” Kiro looked up from the inventory. “Actually—” Everyone: “No.” Kiro stared around the room. “I wasn’t going to—” Ace: “You absolutely were.” Kiro sighed. “Hostile to science.” Panam raised her glass. “To not being on the fucking road.” Shammy’s expression softened. Mai lifted hers. “To that.” Glasses touched. Not all of them. Too many people. Enough. Panam drank. Still good. Thank fuck. She looked sideways at Shammy. Shammy tasted. Paused. Panam watched her face. “Well?” Shammy took another sip. Panam: “That good?” Shammy turned toward her. “You bought three cases.” “I had confidence.” “You bought three cases before I tried it.” “I know what you like.” That quieted Shammy for half a beat. Then her hair lifted faintly at the ends. Panam stared. Shammy: “What?” Panam pointed at her hair. “You’re cheating.” “I’m drinking wine.” “Your body has fucking subtitles.” Ace, from across the table: “I told you.” Panam: “No one asked the gremlin.” Ace lifted her glass. “Still right.” --- Mai tasted next. Then Lena. Then Iris. Reyes took one sip and nodded. “Good.” Panam: “That’s all?” “It’s wine.” “You have opinions about everything.” “Yes.” “And?” Reyes drank again. “Good wine.” Panam looked dissatisfied. Reyes: “What do you want, poetry?” Ace: “She wants validation.” Panam turned. “I brought you steak.” Ace immediately softened. “Excellent wine.” Panam laughed. “Whore.” Ace: “For steak? Absolutely.” Mai did not even look up. “Accurate.” --- Brenda tasted hers. Made a face. Not bad. Thinking. Panam noticed. “You don’t like it?” “No, I do.” “Then what?” Brenda looked at Iris. “Is this the kind where I’m supposed to say things like oak?” Iris smiled. “Only if you taste oak.” Brenda tasted again. “I taste wine.” Panam raised her glass. “Best answer tonight.” Brenda brightened. Then noticed the label again. “I still like the bottle.” Panam: “I knew you would.” Brenda looked at her. “You bought it because of the label?” “No.” “But you thought I’d like it?” “Yes.” Brenda smiled. Warm. Immediate. Panam looked away before the whole room could turn that into something. Too late. Ace was already smiling at her. Panam: “Don’t.” Ace: “I didn’t—” “Your face.” Ace covered her mouth with one hand. Reyes nearly choked on her wine. --- Food appeared without anyone formally deciding dinner had started. Bread first. Cheese. Tomatoes. Butter. Cold slices of smoked meat. Fresh fruit. The kind of improvised table that happened when nobody wanted to wait long enough for proper cooking. Marco cut the bread. Lena cut cheese. Rhea washed vegetables. Sol found plates. Mai somehow made the whole thing function without ever announcing she was organizing it. Panam sat. That was unusual enough for Shammy to notice. “You’re not helping.” “I drove it here.” “True.” “I’m retired.” “For how long?” Panam considered. “Twenty minutes.” Shammy smiled. “Ambitious.” Panam leaned into her side. “Shut up.” Shammy kissed the top of her head. Panam stayed there. No argument. Across the table Ace saw that too. This time, she did not comment. Panam noticed. Filed it. Maybe the little shit had survival instincts after all. --- Marco put a plate down. Real tomato. Cheese. Bread. Butter. Panam took one bite of the bread with butter and closed her eyes. Reyes saw. “Good?” Panam: “Fuck you.” Reyes smiled. “Very good.” “You’ve been eating city garbage too long.” “We live in Night City.” “Exactly.” Shammy took a tomato slice. Panam watched. Shammy bit. Stopped. Panam smiled before Shammy said anything. “Yeah.” Shammy: “Yeah.” Panam looked around. Brenda had both hands around half a tomato. Ace was eating cheese while pretending Mai had not noticed. Kiro had abandoned the inventory entirely. Nyx had found the smoked meat. Rhea and Sol were sharing bread. Marco and Lena were arguing quietly over which cheese should be opened next. Reyes had somehow acquired a second glass. Iris sat close to Brenda, amused by everything. Safehouse noise. Panam let it wash over her. For weeks, the loudest thing around her at night had been the cooling engine. Now there were too many voices. Perfect. --- Shammy’s hand settled on Panam’s thigh under the table. Nothing dramatic. Warm. Panam looked at her. Shammy continued eating. Panam covered the hand with hers. Held it. Shammy’s fingers tightened once beneath Panam’s hand. Panam smiled. Very quietly: “Still?” Shammy turned her head. “Still.” Panam squeezed her hand. “Good.” --- Ace reached for another slice of smoked cheese. Lena slapped her fingers lightly with the flat side of the knife. Ace withdrew. “Violence.” Lena: “You’ve had four.” “Small.” “They were not.” Ace looked at Panam. “Witness.” Panam: “I’m with Lena.” Ace stared. “After everything I’ve done for you.” Panam: “What have you done for me today?” Ace thought. “Emotional support.” Panam: “When?” Ace: “I told you to buy steak.” The table broke into laughter. Panam leaned back into Shammy. “Okay. That one was good.” Ace looked pleased. Reyes: “Don’t encourage her.” “Too late.” Mai: “Years too late.” --- The second bottle opened. This time nobody pretended it was a tasting. Just dinner. Talk drifted. Road stories first. Panam told them about a client who had changed the destination twice while she was already driving. Reyes called that suicidal. Panam agreed. Kiro wanted to know whether the route change had been authenticated. Panam threw a piece of bread at her. Kiro caught it. Ate it. Victory unclear. Then Panam told them about sleeping in the car through a dust storm. Shammy’s expression changed. Not much. Panam noticed. “What?” “You said you found a motel.” Panam: “I found one.” “And?” “It was worse than the car.” Shammy looked at her. Panam: “What?” Shammy’s hair rose. Slowly. Panam stared. “Okay, no.” Reyes grinned. Panam pointed at Shammy. “You cannot use weather as judgment.” Shammy: “I didn’t say anything.” Ace immediately lost it. Panam: “Oh, fuck all of you.” Shammy’s mouth twitched. Panam leaned closer. “You especially.” Shammy: “Promises.” Panam froze. The table reacted as one organism. Reyes slapped the table once. Ace folded in half. Brenda made a sound somewhere between a gasp and a laugh. Mai put her glass down before she spilled it. Panam stared at Shammy. Shammy looked serenely pleased with herself. Panam: “You’ve been waiting weeks for that?” “Yes.” The hair lifted another centimeter. Panam’s expression went slowly predatory. Not full-strength Panam. Not yet. But getting there. “Careful.” Shammy leaned closer. “Why?” Panam smiled. “Because eventually everybody goes home.” Reyes: “Oh, she’s back.” Panam looked at her. “Barely.” Reyes raised her glass. “I’ll take it.” --- The laughter settled. Slowly. Panam drank. Then looked around again. Bruises. Small healing injuries. Ace favoring one side when she twisted too quickly. Iris’s arm. Reyes’s jaw. Mai looking better than she had sounded on two carefully neutral calls. Brenda unusually attentive whenever Iris moved. Shammy tired beneath the happiness. The room was warm. The food was good. Everyone was here. But _later_ had not gone anywhere. Panam turned her glass between her fingers. She could ask now. She almost did. Then Brenda said: “So.” Panam looked up. Brenda was looking at Shammy. Shammy looked back. Brenda’s expression had changed to the one that usually meant trouble was not only coming but had already chosen a chair. “You went to the Crystal Palace.” Shammy: “Yes.” Panam blinked. The subject turned. Interesting. Brenda: “And there was an artist.” Ace’s eyes lit immediately. Shammy closed hers. Panam looked from one to the other. Then slowly smiled. “Oh.” Shammy opened one eye. Panam took another sip. “This sounds useful.” Ace sat straighter. “Extremely.” Mai: “Ace.” Ace: “What?” Panam’s smile widened. There was the Safehouse she remembered. And apparently she had missed gossip. Good. She had been away too fucking long. --- # Chapter 6 — That Artist Friend Panam put her glass down. Slowly. Shammy knew that look. So did Ace. That was why Ace was already smiling. Panam leaned back in her chair. “So.” Shammy: “No.” Panam’s smile widened. “I haven’t asked anything.” “You were going to.” “Maybe.” “You were.” Reyes lifted her glass. “I support this.” Mai: “Of course you do.” Reyes: “Important social recovery.” Ace: “Critical.” Shammy looked at both of them. “Traitors.” Ace: “Accurate.” --- Panam turned toward Shammy. Her voice stayed easy. Not sharp. Not jealous. If anything, amused. “So. That artist friend.” Shammy looked at her. Panam waited. Then: “Imani.” Ace did not even hesitate. “Artist friend and fuckbuddy.” Shammy closed her eyes. “Ace.” Ace: “Accurate.” Panam’s eyebrows went up. She looked at Ace. Then Shammy. Then back to Ace. “Fuckbuddy.” Ace nodded solemnly. “Technical classification.” Mai took a drink. “Do not encourage her.” Panam: “I’m gathering information.” Reyes: “Same excuse Ace uses.” Ace: “Because it works.” --- Shammy looked at Panam. There was no defensiveness in her. No careful explanation. No need. “Imani’s wonderful.” Panam’s expression softened immediately. That mattered more than the terminology. “Yeah?” “Yes.” “Good to you?” Shammy smiled. “Yes.” Panam nodded once. Satisfied. “Good.” Ace watched her. Panam noticed. “What?” Ace: “Nothing.” “Bullshit.” Ace shrugged. “You’re being very reasonable.” Panam stared. “Should I be offended?” Reyes: “Yes.” Ace: “No.” Panam looked at Shammy again. Then leaned closer. “So how good was the trip?” Shammy’s hair moved. Just slightly. Panam saw. Ace saw Panam see. Ace’s grin became unbearable. Panam pointed at her without looking away from Shammy. “Don’t.” Ace: “I didn’t say anything.” “Your face is screaming.” Reyes: “It really is.” --- Brenda had both hands around her wine glass now. Very interested. Iris looked at her. Brenda whispered: “What?” Iris: “Nothing.” “You have a face.” “I learned from Ace.” Ace: “Legacy.” Mai: “Problem.” Ace: “Same thing.” Panam ignored them all. Mostly. “So?” Shammy took a sip. “Very good.” Panam waited. Shammy smiled. “Very.” Panam’s expression turned pleased. Not teasing yet. Genuinely pleased. “Good.” Then, after a beat: “Glad you had a satisfying trip.” Ace made a small choking noise into her glass. Panam looked at her. “What?” Ace: “That was almost civilized.” Panam: “I can be civilized.” Reyes: “When?” Panam turned. “You want examples?” Reyes smiled. “No.” “Smart.” --- Panam looked back to Shammy. “So what’s she like?” Shammy’s whole face warmed. That told Panam more than any answer would. “Creative.” Panam: “Useful start.” “Funny.” “Better.” “Very confident.” Panam’s smile returned. “Now we’re getting somewhere.” Shammy shook her head, amused. “She likes people.” Ace: “Deeply.” Shammy: “Ace.” Ace: “What?” Panam looked at Ace. Then at Shammy. Then slowly smiled. “I’m beginning to understand why you all liked the Palace.” Reyes raised her glass. “Networking.” Kiro, without looking up: “That is not technically inaccurate.” Mai: “Please stop helping.” Kiro: “I wasn’t.” Ace: “She was.” --- Panam leaned back into Shammy’s side. Shammy’s arm came around her automatically. Panam stayed there. Comfortable. Then: “I’d like to meet her.” No tension. No test. Just interest. Ace answered immediately. Perfectly straight-faced. “…and fuck her too.” Silence. Absolute. Even Reyes stopped moving. Shammy’s eyes closed. Mai slowly lowered her glass. Brenda’s mouth fell open. Iris looked at Ace. Then Panam. Waiting. Panam stared at Ace. For one second her face gave nothing away. Then one corner of her mouth moved. Slowly. Her eyes sharpened. Mischief arriving. Ace saw it. Her own expression did not change. That somehow made it worse. Panam leaned forward slightly. “Ace…” Ace waited. Panam’s smile became outright wicked. “For once you are not entirely wrong.” Shammy facepalmed. Both hands. The room detonated. --- Reyes went first. One hard bark of laughter, then another, then she folded over the table. Ace lost her deadpan at exactly the same moment and nearly slid sideways into Mai. Brenda made a sound so high Panam turned to check whether she was breathing. She was. Barely. Iris had both hands over her mouth. Marco leaned against Lena because standing had apparently become optional. Lena was laughing into his shoulder. Rhea had turned away from the table entirely. Sol was worse. Nyx slapped the tabletop once. Kiro had gone red from trying not to laugh and failed completely. Panam sat in the middle of it, grinning like she had just won something. Shammy remained behind her hands. Panam looked up at her. “Oh, come on.” Shammy: “I leave you people alone for one conversation.” Ace, wheezing: “You said you wanted to meet her.” Panam: “She sounds interesting.” Ace: “Very.” Shammy: “Do not.” Panam looked up. “Do not what?” Shammy lowered one hand. Panam’s grin widened. Shammy saw. Closed her eyes again. “This is going to be awful.” Reyes, from the table: “Wonderful.” --- Mai recovered first. Of course. She took another sip of wine. Waited until Ace had stopped trying to breathe through laughter. Then looked at Panam. Calm. Completely serious. “Want to come with us next time the O’Sullivans go up?” That shut the room down for a different reason. Panam turned. Mai’s expression had not changed. No tease. No setup. A practical invitation. Panam blinked. “Next time?” Mai: “There’ll be another one.” Ace nodded. “Absolutely.” Reyes: “Obviously.” Shammy looked at Panam. Panam looked back at her. That part mattered. Shammy’s smile was small. Warm. Inviting. No pressure. Panam considered for all of three seconds. Then shrugged. “Why not. If I’m not doing anything else.” Ace: “Very enthusiastic.” Panam turned. “Shut up.” Ace smiled. Panam pointed. “I mean it.” “You always do.” “Correct.” --- Shammy leaned down. Her mouth near Panam’s ear. “You’d like it.” Panam looked sideways. “The Palace?” Shammy’s eyes brightened. “All of it.” Panam paused. Then smiled. There. A little more heat. A little more of the woman who had been gone too long finally returning to herself. “That a promise?” Shammy’s hair lifted. Not much. Enough. Panam saw. Her smile deepened. Ace saw too. Panam did not even bother pointing this time. Ace: “I said nothing.” Panam: “You’re learning.” Reyes: “She isn’t.” Ace: “Correct.” --- Brenda had recovered enough to participate again. She looked at Panam. “You’d like zero-g.” Panam: “Would I?” Brenda: “Yes.” Iris: “She means she thinks you would.” Brenda: “I know what I mean.” Panam: “Why?” Brenda’s eyes flicked to Shammy. Then back to Panam. A smile appeared. “Oh.” Panam leaned forward. “Oh what?” Brenda: “Nothing.” Panam: “Bullshit.” Iris, very calmly: “She’s thinking about Shammy in zero-g.” Brenda turned. “Iris.” Panam looked up at Shammy. Then down. Then back up. Her eyebrows rose. “Oh.” Shammy’s hair moved again. Panam smiled. “Interesting.” Shammy: “You are all terrible.” Ace: “Palace effect.” Mai: “That is not a thing.” Reyes: “It is now.” --- Panam took another drink. Then looked at Shammy again. “Imani knows about me?” Shammy: “Yes.” No pause. Panam nodded. “Good.” Ace: “She knows about all of us.” Panam looked at her. “All?” Ace smiled. Mai: “Do not ask.” Panam: “I was absolutely going to ask.” Reyes: “You should.” Mai looked at Reyes. Reyes drank. “Sorry.” Nobody believed her. --- Panam settled farther into Shammy. Her road-worn edge had softened almost completely now. Still tired. Still quieter than her usual full-force self. But the grin was back. The filthy timing was coming back. The room no longer felt like somewhere she had returned to. It felt like somewhere she belonged again. Shammy kissed the side of her head. Panam leaned into it. Then murmured: “So this Imani.” Shammy: “Yes?” “Good hands?” Shammy froze. Ace dropped her head onto the table. Reyes made a strangled noise. Mai closed her eyes. Panam grinned. There she was. Shammy looked down at her. Hair beginning to rise. “Panam.” “What?” Shammy’s expression changed slowly. Warm. Dangerous. Panam saw it. Her grin faltered for exactly half a second. Then returned stronger. “Oh.” Ace lifted her head. “Welcome home.” Panam did not look away from Shammy. “Yeah.” Her voice had gone lower. “Starting to feel like it.” --- The laughter eventually broke apart into smaller conversations. The wine kept moving. Food disappeared. Someone opened another cheese. Ace finally got the spicy jam and immediately claimed it was better than expected, which Panam considered a personal victory. Shammy remained beside her. Touching. Close. Home. Panam let another ten minutes pass. Maybe fifteen. Long enough for the room to settle. Long enough for the Palace jokes to stop bouncing between every other sentence. Then her eyes moved again. Ace’s ribs. Iris’s arm. Reyes’s jaw. Mai watching everyone a little too carefully. Brenda touching Iris whenever she thought nobody noticed. The question returned. This time Panam did not let it go. She set her glass down. Looked around the table. “All right.” The remaining conversations faded. Panam’s voice stayed calm. But the road softness disappeared from it. “Now tell me what the fuck happened.” --- # Chapter 7 — What the Fuck Happened Nobody answered immediately. Not because they did not know where to start. Because too many of them did. Panam looked from face to face. Ace. Iris. Reyes. Mai. Brenda. Kiro. The people who had clearly been standing inside the thing. Then Marco, Lena, Nyx, Rhea, Sol. The people who had clearly learned afterward. Shammy beside her. Panam’s eyes narrowed. “So that bad.” Ace: “Depends.” Panam: “Wrong answer.” Ace considered. “Then yes.” Mai: “Ace.” “What?” Panam pointed at her. “No. Let her.” Ace looked at Panam. Panam looked back. No smile now. No anger yet either. That came later if it earned the trip. “Start at the part where I saw you and Iris on a municipal feed looking like you were working for people I’d never heard of.” Ace exhaled. “Okay.” --- Shammy’s hand stayed on Panam’s thigh. Steady. Panam covered it without looking down. Ace noticed. Then started. “The Afterlife fight was staged.” Panam’s eyes moved to Mai. Then Brenda. Then Iris. “The whole thing?” Mai: “The public rupture was.” Panam: “Meaning?” Iris answered. “The anger had to look real.” Panam stared at her. Iris held it. Then Panam looked toward Brenda. “You knew?” Brenda nodded. “Enough.” Panam: “Enough is not a number.” Brenda’s mouth tightened. “I knew Iris and Ace were going into something real. I knew the breakup had to hold in public. I knew I couldn’t act like I knew.” Panam’s gaze shifted to Mai. “You too.” “Yes.” “Kiro?” Kiro raised one hand slightly. “Yes.” “Reyes?” Reyes: “Yes.” Panam leaned back. “Great.” Ace: “You were out of town.” Panam’s head turned. Very slowly. Ace immediately: “That sounded worse out loud.” Panam: “A little.” --- Mai stepped in. “Rogue had a recruiter.” Panam looked at her. “Okay.” “Former major figure. Building a specialist force.” Panam’s expression changed. Not softer. More focused. “Military?” “Not exactly.” Reyes: “Worse in some ways.” Panam looked at her. Reyes continued. “People with real field experience. Contractors. Specialists. Small-unit people. The kind you don’t get by posting a job listing.” Panam: “And Ace and Iris?” Ace: “Useful bait.” Iris: “And credible recruits.” Panam’s jaw tightened. Shammy’s hair stirred. Not much. Panam felt the atmosphere shift beside her. Ignored it. For now. --- Mai continued. “Rogue needed a fracture people would believe.” Panam: “So you made one.” “Yes.” “Publicly.” “Yes.” “At Afterlife.” “Yes.” Panam looked around the table. “And nobody thought that might get attention.” Reyes: “That was the point.” Panam turned. Reyes met her eyes. No flinch. Panam knew Reyes well enough to know when something had cost her. The bruise on her jaw had nothing to do with that. Maybe. “Then I saw you fighting them.” Reyes took a drink. “That was real.” Panam went still. “Real?” Reyes: “My contract was real.” Ace: “Different line.” Iris: “Same field.” Panam stared at all three. “You’re telling me the fake breakup produced a real situation where Reyes was actually working against you.” Reyes: “Yes.” Panam: “And that was acceptable.” Mai: “No.” Panam looked at her. Mai: “It was necessary.” Panam: “Not the same thing.” Mai: “No.” That answer satisfied her more than an argument would have. Barely. --- Panam looked at Ace again. “How deep did you go?” Ace: “Deep enough.” Panam: “I hate that phrase.” “I know.” “Try again.” Ace looked toward Iris. Iris took it. “We entered the specialist structure as independents.” Panam: “Under covers?” “No.” That caught her. “Your real faces.” “Yes.” Panam’s eyes narrowed. “Names?” Ace: “Not useful ones.” Panam: “Operational packets?” Mai: “Anonymized.” Panam nodded once. Good. At least somebody still had survival instincts. Iris continued. “The people there were real. The work was real.” Panam: “What kind of work?” “Security. Field response. Controlled loss exercises. Municipal support. Access control. Some live-risk assignments.” Panam looked at Ace’s ribs. Ace saw. “Those are unrelated.” Panam: “Lie better.” Ace: “Somewhat related.” Panam’s eyes closed. Reyes laughed once. Bad timing. Panam turned toward her. Reyes: “Sorry.” “No you’re not.” “No.” --- Kiro spoke next. “The structure was interesting.” Panam looked at her. Kiro stopped. Panam: “That is the most Kiro sentence possible.” Ace: “She means dangerous.” Kiro: “I mean both.” Panam: “Of course you do.” Kiro leaned forward slightly. “The central allocation system wasn’t the whole network. People were making their own trust links. Side arrangements. Repeated pairings. Private work referrals.” Panam: “Meaning Rogue needed to know who actually trusted who.” “Yes.” “And Ace and Iris had to become trusted enough to see that.” “Yes.” Panam looked at them. “Did you?” Ace: “Yeah.” Iris: “Yes.” Panam’s eyes stayed on Iris. “How trusted?” Iris did not look away. “Enough that leaving mattered.” That landed. Panam’s expression changed. Small. The first real understanding of what this had become beyond a job. She looked at Ace. Ace’s face had gone quieter too. Panam: “You made friends.” Ace: “Yes.” “Real ones.” “Yes.” “And they still think you were exactly what you said you were.” Ace nodded. Panam swore softly. “Fuck.” --- Brenda’s hand found Iris’s wrist. Not dramatic. Just there. Panam saw it. Iris turned her hand and linked fingers. Panam watched. Then looked at Mai. “And you just sat here?” Mai’s face stayed still. “No.” Panam: “Close enough.” Shammy’s hand tightened under Panam’s. Mai did not defend herself. That was worse. Panam looked at Shammy. “You too.” Shammy: “Yes.” “How much did you know?” “Enough to know why they were gone.” Panam: “And not enough to make it easy.” Shammy’s electric-blue eyes held hers. “No.” Panam leaned back. The wine suddenly felt less useful. --- Ace said quietly: “We had a short secure channel.” Panam looked at her. “With Mai?” “Yes.” “Iris with Brenda?” “Yes.” “How often?” “Short.” Panam: “That wasn’t the question.” Ace looked at Mai. Mai answered. “Enough to keep people connected. Not enough to become behavior anyone could detect.” Panam sat with that. Then: “You deliberately made yourselves lonely.” Nobody answered. Panam laughed once. No humor. “Fantastic.” Ace: “Panam—” “No.” She looked at her. “I get why.” Ace stopped. Panam: “That doesn’t make it less fucked.” Ace’s shoulders eased a fraction. “Yeah.” --- Panam turned toward Reyes again. “What about the public hit?” Reyes: “Mine?” “No, the fucking other Reyes.” Reyes smiled faintly. Panam: “Don’t.” “Right.” Reyes sobered. “Credibility.” Panam’s mouth tightened. “Visible. Harmless enough?” “Mostly.” Ace: “I’ve had worse.” Panam: “Stop helping.” Ace closed her mouth. Iris: “It had to look like there was no private line left.” Panam: “And there was.” “Yes.” Panam stared at Reyes. “You enjoyed any of it?” Reyes thought. “Parts.” Ace: “She enjoyed hitting me.” Reyes: “You made it easy.” Panam looked between them. Then at Mai. Mai: “They’re fine.” Panam: “That sentence is carrying a lot of weight tonight.” --- Nyx finally spoke. “You’re having the same conversation we did.” Panam looked toward her. Nyx: “Different swearing.” Marco: “More swearing.” Panam: “Fuck you.” Marco smiled. “Exactly.” That broke some pressure. Just enough. Lena leaned against Marco’s shoulder. Rhea and Sol exchanged a glance. Panam saw. “So you all only found out after.” Lena: “Yes.” Nyx: “When they were home.” Rhea: “Not before.” Sol: “And not accidentally.” Panam nodded. That mattered too. The lie had lines. Ugly ones. But lines. --- Panam looked back to Ace. “What ended it?” Ace: “Last operation gave Rogue enough.” Panam: “Enough what?” Iris: “Network structure.” Kiro: “Trust relationships. Assignment behavior. Recruiter access. Who connected across which workstreams.” Panam: “Names?” Kiro hesitated. Panam noticed. “Not yours.” “No.” “Good.” Kiro: “Operational identifiers. Enough correlation for Rogue.” Panam: “And then?” Ace: “We got released.” Panam blinked. “That simple?” Iris: “Administrative reduction.” Panam: “You’re kidding.” “No.” “After all that.” Ace: “Contract cycle ended. Temporary attachments reduced.” Panam stared. Then started laughing. Everyone looked at her. Panam put one hand over her face. “You spent weeks tearing your lives apart and got laid off by paperwork.” Ace smiled. “When you say it like that—” “How else would I say it?” Reyes: “Accurate.” Panam laughed harder. Shammy did too. Even Mai smiled. Good. They needed that. --- Panam wiped one eye. “Okay.” Then: “Camp?” Ace’s expression changed immediately. Panam saw. “What?” Ace: “They don’t know.” Panam’s humor faded. “Any of them.” “No.” Iris: “And they won’t.” Panam: “Because?” Mai: “They were never targets.” Panam nodded. That answer came fast. Good. Ace: “They were doing their jobs.” Panam looked at her. “You liked them.” Ace: “Yes.” Iris: “We both did.” Panam let the silence sit. Then: “You said goodbye?” “Yes.” “Properly?” Ace nodded. Iris too. Panam leaned back. “Okay.” One ugly thing made slightly less ugly. --- Then she remembered the footage. “The redhead.” Everybody knew immediately. Ace: “Ash.” Panam: “Who the fuck is Ash?” Reyes: “Independent contractor.” Panam: “She looked about twelve.” Ace: “She’s tiny.” Panam turned. Ace smiled. “Not as tiny.” “Keep talking.” Ace stopped. Reyes: “Corporate problem solver.” Panam: “Whose?” Reyes: “Not ours.” “That helpful.” “She was on a separate contract.” Panam’s eyebrows rose. “And she just showed up?” “Yes.” “What did she do?” Reyes smiled. Panam saw it. “Oh no.” Ace: “It was efficient.” Panam: “That is never comforting.” Reyes: “She handled the other side.” Panam: “Other side meaning?” Mai: “Remaining opposition.” Panam looked around. Nobody seemed particularly eager to expand. Fine. Probably wise. “Rogue arranged her?” “No.” That came from several people at once. Panam stopped. “Right.” Reyes: “Independent.” Panam: “Night City remains a stupid place.” Nyx: “Yes.” --- Panam sat back. Took the wine. Did not drink yet. “Rake.” Mai looked at her. “You heard the name.” “Once.” Panam: “Enough to know I should ask.” Mai nodded. “Rogue has the rest.” Panam: “Meaning?” “Meaning we’re done.” Panam looked suspicious. Ace: “Actually done.” Iris: “Actually.” Panam: “And Rogue?” Mai: “Continuing independently.” Panam’s eyes narrowed. “Without you.” “Yes.” “Without the Triad.” “Yes.” “Without Reyes?” Reyes: “Unless she pays.” Mai looked at her. Reyes smiled. “Joke.” Panam: “No it wasn’t.” Reyes: “No.” --- Panam finally drank. A long swallow. Then set the glass down. “All right.” Nobody moved. Panam looked at Ace and Iris. “You two okay?” Ace answered first. “Yeah.” Panam’s gaze sharpened. “Actually?” Ace’s smile disappeared. She thought. Then: “Yes.” Not automatic. Good. Panam looked at Iris. Iris took longer. “Better.” Panam waited. Iris: “Actually better.” Panam nodded. Then looked at Mai. “How about you?” Mai: “I’m fine.” Panam stared. Mai sighed. “Actually.” Panam kept staring. Mai’s expression softened. “Tired. Angry about parts of it. Glad they’re home.” Panam: “Better answer.” Mai: “I know.” --- Brenda was next. Panam did not even need to ask. Brenda: “I’m okay.” Panam looked at her. Brenda: “Actually.” Then she glanced at Iris. “I hated it.” Iris’s thumb moved over Brenda’s knuckles. Brenda: “But she’s here.” Panam nodded. Shammy beside her. Panam looked up. “And you.” Shammy: “I missed people.” Panam: “That’s not all.” “No.” Panam waited. Shammy’s hair shifted faintly. Not storm. Memory. “I didn’t like the house without them.” Panam looked around the Safehouse. Then back. “No.” Shammy: “But they’re home.” Panam squeezed her hand. “Yeah.” --- Then Panam looked at Reyes. Reyes raised an eyebrow. “What?” “You okay?” Reyes: “Yes.” Panam stared. Reyes: “Actually.” Panam continued staring. Reyes sighed. “Ace is annoying.” Ace: “Recovered.” Reyes: “Iris is worse.” Iris smiled. Reyes: “Mai still tells me what not to do.” Mai: “Because you need it.” Reyes: “See?” Panam smiled despite herself. “Fine.” Reyes raised her glass. “Fine.” --- Kiro got the look next. She immediately: “Yes.” Panam: “That fast?” “I prepared.” “You prepared a wellbeing answer?” Kiro: “I observed the pattern.” Ace: “Very Kiro.” Panam rubbed her forehead. “Okay.” Kiro smiled. “I’m good.” “Actually?” “Yes.” Panam nodded. Then looked around the rest. Marco. Lena. Nyx. Rhea. Sol. Nobody looked untouched. But nobody looked broken either. Good enough for tonight. --- Panam leaned back into Shammy. For several seconds she said nothing. Then: “I was nine hundred fucking kilometers away.” Nobody answered. Her voice stayed low. “I saw clips. Got messages saying everybody was alive. And every time I asked for more, I got some version of ‘later.’” Shammy’s arm tightened around her. Panam looked at Mai. “I wanted to turn around.” Mai: “I know.” Panam: “No, you don’t.” Mai met her eyes. “You told me.” Panam stopped. Right. She had. Once. Angry. Exhausted. Halfway through a delivery chain. Panam exhaled. “Yeah.” Mai: “And I told you not to.” “You did.” “Because there was nothing you could do from there.” Panam’s jaw tightened. “That was the worst part.” Mai: “I know.” This time Panam believed her. --- Panam looked at Ace. “If I’d known?” Ace: “You’d have come back.” “Yes.” “That would have been bad.” “I know.” Ace blinked. Panam: “I know.” She hated saying it. Still true. “I would have watched the same footage differently. Talked differently. Called differently.” Kiro nodded. “Microbehavior.” Panam pointed at her. “Do not make it sound interesting.” Kiro: “Sorry.” Panam: “No you’re not.” “No.” --- Panam sat with it. The anger remained. Not at them exactly. At distance. At being useless. At Night City for requiring any of this. At Rogue. Probably at Rogue. Definitely at Rogue. But under it: Everyone’s home. That was enough to prevent the rest from becoming poison. Panam looked around the table. Then said: “Good.” Ace blinked. “That’s it?” Panam: “No.” Ace smiled cautiously. “There it is.” Panam pointed around the room. “Next time I leave town, try not to tear the fucking city apart.” Ace: “No promises.” Mai: “Ignore her.” Panam: “I usually do.” Ace looked offended. “Cruel.” Reyes: “Necessary.” Brenda laughed. Iris leaned into her. The room began breathing again. --- Shammy kissed Panam’s temple. Panam turned her head slightly. “Still glad I came home?” Shammy: “Yes.” “Even after all that?” “Yes.” Panam looked at the table. At the food. At the people. At three cases of wine Mai had accidentally financed. Then back up at Shammy. “Good.” Shammy smiled. Panam’s own smile came slower. Tired. Warm. Almost back to normal. Then Ace reached for another piece of smoked cheese. Lena slapped her fingers away. Panam watched. “Okay.” Ace rubbed her hand. “What?” Panam: “Now I believe everybody’s fine.” Reyes laughed. And this time, Panam did too. --- # Chapter 8 — Six Hours The interrogation ended the way most Safehouse interrogations ended. With food. Not because anyone had consciously decided the subject was closed. Because Marco stood up, looked at the remaining bread, then at the cold storage, and said: “We should cook something before Ace eats dinner in components.” Ace, chewing cheese: “I’m already eating dinner.” Lena: “That is exactly his point.” Ace looked at Marco. “You’ve turned against me.” Marco: “I’ve watched you eat butter.” Ace froze. “I did not eat butter.” Reyes: “You absolutely did.” “It was on bread.” “Eventually.” Panam looked at Mai. Mai looked at Panam. Panam: “I was gone too long.” Mai: “Yes.” --- The steaks did not come out. That took negotiation. Ace wanted one. Reyes wanted two. Marco wanted to know whether everybody had actually eaten enough earlier to justify starting a full meal after what had already become an accidental dinner. Mai looked at the time. Then at the wine. Then at the people. “No.” Ace: “No steak?” “Not tonight.” Ace looked personally wounded. Panam: “You have enough for tomorrow.” Ace turned. “Tomorrow.” “Yes.” Reyes: “Grill.” That word changed the room. Marco looked up. Lena did too. Nyx: “That’s not a bad idea.” Rhea: “Outside?” Sol: “Could.” Brenda immediately: “Yes.” Iris looked at her. Brenda: “What?” “You don’t know what they’re proposing yet.” “Grill.” “That is all you know.” “That is enough.” Panam laughed. --- Ace had already pivoted from deprivation to planning. “Steak.” Mai: “We established that.” “Peppers.” Panam: “I bought peppers.” “Potatoes.” Panam: “Yes.” “Wine.” Nyx lifted her glass. “Also yes.” Ace looked almost suspicious. “This is going too well.” Reyes: “Wait until Mai assigns you vegetables.” Ace: “I eat vegetables.” Mai: “When supervised.” “That still counts.” Shammy, beside Panam: “It does.” Mai looked at her. Shammy smiled. Panam leaned closer. “Good girlfriend.” Shammy’s smile went unmistakably pleased. Ace saw. Panam saw Ace see. Panam: “Don’t.” Ace drank. Very deliberately. Growth. --- Brenda had already begun building the event in her head. “You could do the tomatoes whole.” Marco: “Yes.” “And the peppers.” “Yes.” “And corn.” Panam: “No corn.” Brenda stopped. “You didn’t buy corn?” Panam: “They didn’t have good corn.” Brenda looked genuinely disappointed for approximately three seconds. Then: “Cheese.” Iris: “On the grill?” Brenda: “I don’t know.” Marco: “Some.” Brenda brightened. “See?” Iris smiled. “I was asking.” “Good question.” Then Brenda looked toward the storage area. “Honey.” Everyone looked at her. Brenda: “What?” Ace: “On steak?” “No.” “Then?” Brenda thought. “I don’t know yet.” Panam: “Excellent planning.” Brenda pointed at her. “You bought it.” “True.” --- The idea spread. Not loudly. Easily. A day without work if schedules cooperated. Food already handled. No need to go anywhere. No need to dress for anyone. No cover identities. No operational posture. Just Safehouse, people, fire, meat, vegetables, wine. Panam listened. For the first few minutes, it sounded perfect. Then Lena stopped smiling. Not entirely. Just enough that Marco noticed. His hand touched hers under the table. “What?” Lena looked around. Everybody was talking over everybody else now. Ace and Reyes arguing about whether charcoal mattered. Kiro insisting temperature control could be automated. Marco immediately rejecting automation on principle. Brenda trying to convince Iris that grilled peaches probably counted as dessert. Rhea asking whether anyone owned an actual grill brush. Sol saying they did. Nyx asking why. Sol: “Because normal people clean things.” Nyx: “Suspicious.” Lena listened. Then looked toward Mai. Mai was already looking back. The same thought had reached both of them. Panam saw that. “Oh no.” Ace stopped mid-argument. “What?” Panam pointed between Mai and Lena. “They have the face.” Reyes turned. “What face?” “The practical one.” Ace: “Oh.” Marco looked at Lena. “What?” Lena leaned back. “A grill night is six hours.” Silence came unevenly. Reyes: “Depends how much wine.” Lena: “Fine. Eight.” Ace: “That sounds excellent.” Lena looked at her. “That’s not my point.” Mai set her glass down. “No.” Panam looked at her. “No grill?” Mai shook her head. “No. Lena’s right.” Ace: “That sentence has historically been dangerous.” Lena: “Thank you.” “I meant—” “I know.” --- Mai looked around the table. Not calculating food anymore. People. That was different. Panam saw the change. So did Shammy. Mai’s gaze moved slowly. Ace beside her, finally loose enough to be annoying without effort. Shammy pressed against Panam, still touching her every few seconds as though verifying distance had actually ended. Brenda and Iris together. Reyes. Kiro. Marco and Lena. Rhea and Sol. Nyx. Panam, dusty from the road and still not entirely unpacked from it. Mai said: “We need longer.” Ace blinked. “How much longer?” Lena answered before Mai did. “A weekend.” Marco: “A weekend?” Lena looked at him. “A long one.” That settled differently. Panam felt it happen. The grill stopped being the plan. Became one part of something larger. --- Reyes leaned back. “Now we’re talking.” Kiro: “Where?” Mai: “Not there yet.” Ace: “When?” “Also not there yet.” Brenda: “How long is long?” Iris: “More than six hours.” Brenda looked satisfied. “Good.” Panam laughed. Then looked at Mai. “You’re serious.” “Yes.” Panam glanced around. Nobody was rejecting it. Not even the people who would normally start with schedules. Marco was thinking. Lena had already thought. Rhea and Sol exchanged a look that ended in the smallest shared smile. Nyx shrugged. “I can disappear for a few days.” Reyes: “I can disappear indefinitely.” Mai: “No.” Reyes: “Worth asking.” Kiro: “I’d need to move two things.” Ace: “Move them.” Kiro looked at her. Ace: “What?” Kiro: “That simple?” “Yes.” “Interesting.” Ace: “Don’t make it weird.” --- Panam looked at Shammy. “What do you think?” Shammy did not answer immediately. Her electric-blue eyes moved over the room. The pressure around her softened. Not enough for most people to consciously notice. Panam did. She always noticed more now than she used to. Shammy: “Yes.” Panam smiled. “That’s it?” “Yes.” “Strong argument.” Shammy looked down at her. “I want everyone somewhere they don’t have to leave.” That quieted Panam. Not because it sounded profound. Because Shammy said it simply. Like wanting rain to stop. Like wanting the room to stay warm. Panam looked at Ace. Then Mai. Then the others. “Yeah.” Her voice softened. “That sounds good.” --- Ace lifted her glass. “So we’re doing this.” Mai: “We’re considering it.” Ace: “That means yes.” “No.” Reyes: “It means yes.” Mai looked at Reyes. Reyes: “I’ve known you a long time.” Lena: “She’s right.” Mai turned to Lena. “You too?” Lena smiled. “You already decided.” Mai opened her mouth. Closed it. Panam laughed. “Got you.” Mai sighed. “Fine.” Ace raised both arms. “Long weekend.” Mai: “Stop celebrating before we know when.” Ace: “Long weekend eventually.” “That is not better.” --- Brenda had gone thoughtful again. Then: “Can Panam’s food come?” Panam stared. “No.” Brenda blinked. Panam waited. Brenda’s expression fell just enough. Then Panam smiled. “Obviously the food comes.” Brenda: “Asshole.” Iris laughed. Panam pointed at her. “Careful. You’re learning.” Brenda smiled. “From Ace.” Ace looked proud. Mai: “Absolutely not.” --- Marco leaned forward. “Who’s actually off?” Reyes: “I can be.” Kiro: “Probably.” Nyx: “Yes.” Rhea looked at Sol. Sol: “We can make it work.” Lena: “Marco?” Marco nodded. “Yeah.” Brenda: “Iris?” Iris smiled at her. “Yes.” Brenda immediately leaned into her shoulder. Panam watched. That small relief told her the weekend had already become more than logistics for Brenda. Probably for all of them. Panam looked at Shammy. Shammy’s hand found hers again. Definitely for all of them. --- Ace looked toward Mai. “What about us?” Mai: “What about us?” “Work.” “We can clear it.” Ace: “Rogue?” The room changed slightly. Not badly. Just recognition. Rogue still existed. Afterlife still existed. Contracts still existed. Night City would happily fill every open day if allowed. Mai thought. Then nodded. “I’ll tell her tomorrow.” Panam: “Tell her?” Mai: “That we’re not available.” Ace smiled. There was something almost luxurious in those words. Not available. Not injured. Not hiding. Not undercover. Just unavailable because they had chosen to be somewhere else. Panam understood immediately. “Good.” --- Reyes: “She’ll complain.” Mai: “No.” Reyes: “No?” “She’ll calculate.” Ace: “Worse.” Mai: “Then she’ll adjust.” Panam looked at Mai. “You asking permission?” Mai’s expression sharpened. “No.” Panam smiled. “Good.” Mai: “I’m telling her not to build anything around the assumption that the Triad is available.” Shammy: “Thank you.” Mai looked at her. A small smile. “Of course.” Ace: “And if she tries?” Mai: “She won’t.” Reyes: “She might.” Mai looked at Reyes. Reyes lifted both hands. “I said might.” Panam: “If she calls, don’t answer.” Ace looked delighted. Mai: “We are not ignoring Rogue.” Panam: “You should try it.” Reyes: “Very peaceful.” Mai: “None of you are helping.” --- The wine moved again. Someone finally opened the chocolate. Mai allowed it because apparently long-weekend planning had broken down whatever defense remained. Brenda took one square. Then another after deciding the first was research. Iris stole half of the second. Brenda looked shocked. Iris: “Relationship tax.” Brenda: “That’s not real.” Iris ate it. “Seems real.” Panam laughed. Ace immediately looked at Mai. “No.” Ace: “I didn’t ask.” “You were going to.” Panam looked at Shammy. “This house communicates telepathically now.” Shammy: “Only around Ace.” Ace: “My gift.” Reyes: “Your curse.” --- Plans remained intentionally vague. No destination yet. No lists. No schedule beyond _long_ and _weekend_. Mai refused to let Kiro create a shared planning board. Lena backed her. Kiro looked personally wounded. “You’ll forget things.” Panam: “Good.” Kiro: “That isn’t a feature.” “For once it is.” Kiro looked around for support. Found none. “Primitive.” Ace: “Vacation.” Kiro: “I know what vacation is.” Reyes: “Unproven.” --- Eventually the food thinned. The second wine bottle became empty. The third remained closed because Mai still retained some power. Marco and Lena started consolidating dishes. Rhea and Sol helped without being asked. Nyx found somewhere to put herself that did not technically count as helping but somehow kept her out of everyone’s way. Kiro finished the inventory in secret. Everyone knew. Nobody stopped her. Brenda disappeared into cold storage and returned carrying one pear she had apparently forgotten existed. Iris took a bite from it when Brenda offered. Panam watched the room wind down. A few hours ago, she had been driving toward Night City. Now there was a long weekend that had not existed before dinner. She liked that. --- Shammy leaned down. “You’re fading.” Panam looked up. “No.” “Yes.” “I drove four hours.” “After several weeks.” “Still functioning.” Shammy’s hand slid slowly over her shoulder. “I know.” Panam heard the difference. Not _prove it._ Not _keep going._ Just _I know._ She let her head rest against Shammy. “Maybe a little.” Ace walked past. Stopped. Looked. Panam raised one finger. Ace continued walking. Smart. --- Mai gathered the last glasses. Lena touched her arm. “Tomorrow.” Mai nodded. “Tomorrow.” Panam: “What?” Lena: “Nothing.” Panam looked between them. “That practical face again.” Mai: “Go sleep.” Panam: “Bossy.” Shammy: “She’s right.” Panam turned. “Et tu?” Shammy smiled. Panam stared at her. Then sighed dramatically. “Fine.” --- She stood. Shammy stood with her. Of course. Panam looked around the room. “Long weekend.” Ace, immediately: “Long weekend.” Reyes: “Long weekend.” Brenda: “Long weekend.” Mai: “Please stop.” Panam smiled. Then looked at Shammy. “Coming?” Shammy’s hair lifted before she answered. Panam saw it. Her own expression changed. Slowly. Warmth giving way to a little returning edge. “Right.” Ace made the fatal mistake of laughing. Panam looked over. “Ace.” Ace froze. Panam: “I have been away for weeks.” Ace's grin widened despite obvious danger. Panam continued: “And unlike all of you, I intend to recover my humanity privately.” Reyes bent over laughing. Shammy’s hair rose another inch. Ace put both hands over her face. Mai: “Go.” Panam took Shammy’s hand. “Excellent suggestion.” Shammy followed willingly. The door closed behind them. There was a beat. Then Reyes: “Ten says they miss breakfast.” Mai: “No betting.” Ace: “Twenty.” From somewhere beyond the closed door, Panam shouted: “I CAN STILL HEAR YOU.” The Safehouse dissolved into laughter again. --- # Chapter 9 — Road Weather Panam made it six steps down the hallway before stopping. Shammy stopped with her. Behind them, the Safehouse was still laughing. Muffled now. Contained by one closed door and several meters of concrete that had never successfully contained anyone in this household when they were committed to being annoying. Panam looked back. Then at Shammy. “You heard them.” “Yes.” “Twenty.” “Yes.” Panam narrowed her eyes. “You sound entertained.” “I am.” “Traitor.” Shammy’s mouth curved. Panam tried to hold the glare. Failed. The smile got her first. “Come on.” She took Shammy’s hand again. Not because Shammy needed guidance through a hallway she knew perfectly well. Because Panam had spent weeks with both hands occupied by steering wheels, cargo straps, weapons, bad coffee, route maps, motel doors, and clients who believed urgency was a personality. Now one hand had Shammy in it. That felt better. --- The guest room Panam usually used when she stayed at the Safehouse was exactly as she remembered it. Which meant somebody had changed three things. The blanket was different. There was a second water bottle on the nightstand. And the chair near the wall had been moved far enough from the bed that Shammy could pass without turning sideways. Panam stopped inside the doorway. Looked at the chair. Then the water. Then over her shoulder. “Lena.” Shammy considered. “Probably.” “Did she do this while I was downstairs?” “Possibly.” Panam stared toward the ceiling. “I hate competent people.” “No.” “No?” “You like them.” Panam shut the door. Locked it. Then turned. “I like some competent people.” Shammy stood a few steps away. Waiting. No hurry in her posture. No assumption that the closed door had already answered every question. Her silver-white hair had settled almost completely after the common room. Almost. The ends moved faintly around her shoulders. Panam looked at them. Then up. Shammy’s eyes were warm. Open. Panam exhaled. “Later.” Shammy’s expression changed. Only slightly. Enough. “Yes.” There it was. The word from the kitchen. The one Panam had thrown into the future because there had been crates to unload, people to yell at, wine to taste, disasters to reconstruct, and an entire household determined to have feelings in her vicinity. Later had arrived. Panam stepped closer. “I meant it.” “I know.” “That wasn’t a scheduling suggestion.” “I know.” Panam stopped directly in front of her. The height difference forced the usual adjustment. Shammy began to bend. Panam put one hand against her side. “Wait.” Shammy paused immediately. Panam looked up at her. Weeks of road still lived in her shoulders. Dust had been washed away. Fatigue had not. Neither had wanting. “I’m tired,” Panam said. “Yes.” “I’m not too tired.” Shammy’s eyes softened. “Okay.” “If I want to stop, I’ll tell you.” “Yes.” “If you want to stop, you tell me.” “Yes.” Panam’s mouth twitched. “Good.” Then she caught the front of Shammy’s shirt and pulled. Shammy bent willingly. The kiss landed with none of the public patience they had used earlier. Not rushed. Not careless. But hungry in the uncomplicated way distance could make hunger. Panam’s hand slid behind Shammy’s neck. Shammy’s hands found her waist. The first contact there was careful. Panam felt it. Of course she did. She broke the kiss just enough to breathe. “You’re doing it.” “What?” “Making yourself smaller.” Shammy’s hands stayed where they were. “You are tired.” “I’m Panam.” “Yes.” “Those are not synonyms.” A low laugh moved through Shammy. Panam felt it against her. Better. She kissed her again. This time Shammy’s hands closed more firmly around her. Panam leaned into the strength instead of bracing against it. That was the part she had missed most. Not size. Not novelty. Not even sex, exactly. The certainty that Shammy could hold all of her weight and still leave the choice of where Panam stood entirely to Panam. She let her forehead rest against Shammy’s for a moment. “You smell like my shampoo.” “I used your shower.” “My shampoo.” “Yes.” “You have your own.” “Yes.” Panam stared. Shammy smiled. “I missed you.” That killed the argument. Panam’s expression tried several exits. Found none. “Yeah.” Shammy waited. Panam sighed. “Fuck you.” “Is that still the plan?” Panam froze. Then laughed hard enough that she had to lean into Shammy’s chest. “You have been spending too much time with Ace.” “Probably.” “That was filthy.” “Yes.” Panam looked up. “Good.” --- Boots came off first. Panam kicked hers toward the wall and missed the place she normally left them by half a meter. Shammy removed hers with considerably more dignity. Panam pointed. “Show-off.” “I was standing still.” “Exactly.” Her jacket followed. Then Shammy’s outer layer. The room immediately looked smaller without it hanging from her shoulders. Panam remembered another room. Another wall. Another version of herself telling Shammy not to apologize for taking up space. The memory arrived without weight. History. Not a lesson requiring repetition. Panam touched the hem of Shammy’s shirt. “Off?” “Yes.” Shammy lifted her arms. Panam pulled the fabric upward, had to rise onto her toes, failed halfway because Shammy was ridiculous, and started laughing. Shammy caught the shirt herself and finished the job. “That was sabotage,” Panam said. “By height?” “Yes.” “I apologize for geometry.” Panam stared. Then shoved her lightly in the stomach. “You remembered.” “Yes.” “Asshole.” Shammy smiled. Panam’s own shirt came next. No ceremony. No performance. She pulled it over her head and dropped it with the jacket. Shammy looked at her. Not past her. Not through her. At her. Panam knew that look. It could still make her feel unexpectedly exposed even after everything they had done together. She crossed her arms on instinct. Shammy’s eyebrows lifted. Panam immediately uncrossed them. “Don’t.” “I said nothing.” “You were about to understand me.” “I already do.” “That’s worse.” “Yes.” Panam stepped close again before Shammy could enjoy winning. Skin met skin. Warm. Immediate. Shammy’s breath changed. So did the room. Not a dramatic pressure front. Just the faintest easing at the edges, as though the Safehouse had stopped holding itself so rigidly around them. Panam kissed the center of Shammy’s chest because it was there. Then higher. Shammy’s hand moved slowly through Panam’s hair. No one had to ask whether the marks from other nights mattered. No one had to negotiate history from zero. They had one. It was standing between them in all the places they already knew how to touch. --- They reached the bed without urgency. Mostly. Panam sat first. Shammy remained standing for half a second too long. Panam looked up. “What?” “The bed is still too short.” Panam looked at it. Then at Shammy. “That sounds like a you problem.” “It becomes a shared problem.” “Then we’ll solve it collaboratively.” Shammy laughed again. Panam liked that she was getting more of those tonight. She reached for Shammy’s hand and pulled her down carefully. The mattress complained. “See?” Panam said. “Teamwork.” “That was the bed.” “Supporting us.” Shammy bent to kiss her. Panam met her halfway. The next stretch of time stopped behaving usefully. Not because anything became unreal. Because nothing needed measuring anymore. Clothing disappeared only when hands removed it. Panam unfastened Shammy’s trousers and pushed them down far enough for Shammy to step out of them, laughing once when one long leg caught at the ankle. Shammy steadied herself against the wall. Panam looked up from the bed. “Graceful.” “You are enjoying this.” “Immensely.” Shammy came back for revenge by kissing Panam until she forgot the next joke. Panam’s own trousers followed under less dignified circumstances, shoved down and kicked free after she nearly got trapped by one knee. Her underwear came with them. Shammy removed hers deliberately a moment later. Then there was no fabric left between their bodies when Panam pulled her down again. Full skin contact changed the room more than the earlier kisses had. Shammy went still for one breath. Panam did too. Recognition. Not surprise. The kind of pause familiar bodies sometimes earned because memory had just caught up with touch. Panam slid one hand along Shammy’s back. “Still okay?” “Yes.” Shammy’s answer came low. Then: “You?” Panam kissed her. “Yes.” They had sex slowly. Not because either lacked appetite. Because there was nowhere else to be. No route window. No client waiting. No call likely to matter more than the closed door. No need to compress weeks of absence into something frantic just to prove the absence had hurt. Panam set the pace first, direct as always, pulling Shammy closer whenever caution threatened to become distance. Shammy answered with the calm attention that could still make Panam’s confidence flicker at the edges. Every time it did, Panam covered it with motion. Every time, Shammy noticed without making the noticing into a victory. Their bodies required familiar adjustments. A shift of hips. Shammy lowering herself further. Panam changing angle with an impatient laugh when the first attempt was impractical. Hands guiding instead of guessing. Nothing graceful enough to become performance. Everything known enough to become intimate. At one point Panam’s thigh cramped. She swore viciously. Shammy stopped immediately. Panam grabbed her shoulder. “Do not laugh.” “I am not.” “You are internally laughing.” “Yes.” Panam stretched her leg, glared at it like betrayal had become anatomical, then pulled Shammy back down. “Continue.” “Yes, ma’am.” Panam stared. Shammy smiled. “Too much Ace.” “Definitely.” Panam kissed her hard enough to end the conversation. --- The humor did not survive every part of the night. Some moments were too full for it. Panam’s hands tightened against Shammy as pleasure built slowly instead of arriving like a challenge. Shammy’s breathing lost its measured rhythm. Her silver-white hair lifted away from the pillow in a faint halo, not wild, just responsive enough to betray what her face was no longer trying to hide. Panam saw it. Loved it. Did not comment. For once. Shammy said her name. Not as warning. Not as question. Just Panam. That did more damage than anything clever could have. Panam pressed her face into the curve of Shammy’s neck and let the next wave take her without trying to stay composed through it. Her whole body tightened. Then broke loose. A hard shudder traveled through her. She held Shammy closer instead of away. Shammy followed not long after, the response moving through her in overlapping pulses that made her lose the last of her careful stillness. Panam felt the change everywhere they touched. Warmth. Weight. Breath. The room pressure softening outward in one long release. Neither of them separated immediately. There was no reason to. Panam stayed where she was, breathing against Shammy’s skin. Shammy’s hand moved once down her back. Then again. Slow. Grounding. Panam laughed weakly. “What?” Shammy asked. “I was going to say something insulting.” “What stopped you?” “I forgot it.” “That serious?” Panam lifted her head. Shammy was smiling. Not smug. Close enough. “You are impossible.” “I have been told.” “By me.” “Frequently.” Panam kissed her once. Soft this time. “Good.” --- They did not sleep immediately. Panam had spent too many nights collapsing because exhaustion had won. This was different. She wanted the part after. The part the road never gave properly. No alarm set for five hours later. No boots beside a motel door. No cargo seal glowing in the dark. No engine ticking itself cold outside while part of her stayed ready to leave. Shammy lay diagonally because the bed remained too short and had surrendered any claim to sensible geometry. Panam lay partly across her chest. One leg tangled with Shammy’s. The second water bottle sat untouched on the nightstand. Eventually Shammy reached for it. Panam made a noise of protest. “You need water.” “I need you not to move.” “I can do both.” This became an engineering problem. Shammy solved it by stretching one absurdly long arm toward the bottle without moving the rest of her body. Panam watched. “That is cheating.” “It is reach.” “Same family.” Shammy opened the bottle and handed it down. Panam drank. Then handed it back. Shammy drank too. Lena had won again. Infuriating. --- Silence arrived slowly. Not empty. Panam listened to Shammy breathe. There. That had been the thing underneath all the road calls. The thing she had heard in fragments through static and bad reception and careful messages that said everyone was home without explaining what home had cost. She put her palm flat against Shammy’s chest. “You scared me.” Shammy did not pretend not to understand. “When?” “All of it.” A beat. “Even when I wasn’t here for it.” Shammy’s hand moved over Panam’s hair. “I know.” Panam’s jaw tightened. “Nine hundred kilometers.” “Yes.” “Nothing I could do.” “Yes.” “I hate that.” “I know.” Panam lifted her head. “Stop agreeing.” Shammy looked down at her. “What would you prefer?” “I don’t know.” That was honest enough to hurt. Shammy waited. Panam looked away. “Tell me I would’ve fixed it.” “You would not have.” Panam’s head snapped back. Shammy’s expression stayed gentle. “You would have helped.” “That is not the same thing.” “No.” Panam stared. Then exhaled slowly. The anger had nowhere useful to go. Good. Maybe it did not need somewhere. Shammy touched the side of her face. “You came back.” Panam closed her eyes. “That sounds too simple.” “It is not simple.” “No?” “You left because your life requires roads.” “Yes.” “You returned because your life also has us.” Panam opened her eyes. Shammy corrected herself quietly. “Has me.” The distinction mattered. Triad was not swallowed by Panam. Panam was not swallowed by Triad. This room did not need to solve that architecture again. Panam touched Shammy’s cheek. “Yeah.” Shammy kissed her palm. Panam’s throat tightened. She hated how effective that was. “Don’t make it weird.” “I am not.” “You are making it meaningful.” “It is meaningful.” Panam groaned and dropped her forehead against Shammy’s chest. “There you are.” Shammy laughed softly. Panam smiled against her skin. --- She fell asleep mid-thought. No warning. One moment she was planning an argument about whether three cases of wine counted as reasonable provisioning for a long weekend. The next, nothing. No dream she remembered. No road. No route display. No incoming call. Just sleep. Deep enough that when Shammy shifted slightly beneath her, Panam only tightened one arm around her and stayed there. Shammy looked down. Panam’s face had gone completely unguarded. The stubborn line between her brows had disappeared. Her breathing was slow. Heavy. Safe. Shammy’s hair settled flat across the pillow. The room became still around them. Not contained. Content. And for several hours, the road could wait. --- # Chapter 10 — Not Available Mai left early. Not _early_ by Night City standards. Early by Safehouse standards after a night that had involved three bottles of wine, two loaves of bread, enough cheese to qualify as infrastructure, and Panam returning after weeks away. The common room was quiet. Mostly. Ace was asleep sideways across half the couch with one bare foot hanging off the edge. Reyes had apparently lost an argument with a chair. Kiro had won an argument with the same chair and somehow made it look intentional. Brenda and Iris were nowhere in sight. Marco and Lena had gone home late. Rhea and Sol with them. Nyx had vanished at some point without announcing it, which meant Nyx had successfully completed the night. Shammy and Panam had not reappeared. Mai considered that unsurprising. She picked up her jacket. Ace opened one eye. “Where?” Mai looked over. “You’re awake.” “No.” “Afterlife.” The eye closed. “Rogue.” “Yes.” A pause. Then: “Tell her we’re dead.” Mai: “No.” “Unavailable.” “Yes.” Ace opened the eye again. “Better.” Then closed it. Mai smiled. “Go back to sleep.” Ace: “Already there.” Mai left. --- Afterlife had not yet reached evening volume. Good. Mai preferred Rogue before the room became an ecosystem. The bar still had movement. Always did. Mercs. Fixers. People with meetings they wanted noticed. People with meetings they absolutely did not. Mai walked through without stopping. A few faces recognized her. Not Maeve. Mai. That distinction still mattered after the last few weeks. No rupture. No staged coldness. No need to carefully decide who she was supposed to dislike. Just Mai. She found Rogue in her usual territory. Of course. Rogue looked up once. “Thought you were off.” Mai sat. “I am.” Rogue waited. Mai: “We’re taking a long weekend.” No reaction. Not visible, anyway. Rogue: “When?” Mai gave her the dates. Rogue looked at something on her display. Then: “Fine.” Mai: “Don’t count on the Triad.” Rogue looked up. “Wasn’t planning to.” Mai paused. That had been easier than expected. Rogue noticed. “What?” “Nothing.” “Bullshit.” Mai smiled faintly. “Panam’s rubbing off on people.” “God help us.” --- Rogue looked back at the display. “Reyes?” “Probably.” “Kiro?” “Yes.” “Brenda?” “Yes.” “Iris?” “Yes.” Rogue’s eyes lifted briefly. “Everyone.” Mai: “Pretty much.” Rogue leaned back. “Good.” Mai watched her. There it was again. “Good?” Rogue looked at her. “Yes.” Mai waited. Rogue did not elaborate. Of course. Mai: “You don’t want to know where?” “No.” “You don’t want a contact window?” “If I need one, I’ll get one.” Mai: “That sounds healthy.” Rogue: “Don’t start.” Mai smiled. There. More familiar territory. --- Rogue tapped the display. “Anything live can route elsewhere.” Mai: “That was the point.” “Yes.” “No emergency fallback?” Rogue looked at her. Mai: “I’m asking because you always have one.” “I do.” “And?” “You’re not it.” Mai went still for half a beat. Not emotional. Not from Rogue. Still. That mattered. Rogue looked back down. “Anything comes up, it goes through somebody else.” Mai: “Reyes?” “No.” “Kiro?” “No.” “Nyx?” Rogue glanced up. “Did I stutter?” Mai smiled. “No.” “Then no.” For once, Rogue was not leaving a hidden hook in the sentence. No _unless._ No _if this goes bad._ No _keep your comm on._ Just no. Mai sat back. “Okay.” --- Rogue finished whatever she was doing. Then: “What’s it costing?” Mai frowned. “What?” “The weekend.” Mai stared at her. Rogue stared back. “No.” Rogue: “That wasn’t a question.” Mai: “We’re not charging you for a vacation.” “Didn’t say you were.” “Then?” Rogue reached for her drink. Took a small sip. Set it down. “What’s it costing?” Mai’s expression narrowed. “We haven’t booked anything yet.” “Then when you do.” “Rogue.” Rogue looked at her. Mai: “We can pay for it.” “I know.” “Then why are we having this conversation?” Rogue’s mouth moved slightly. Not quite a smile. “Because you’re bad at taking money when you think the reason is personal.” Mai blinked. That was irritatingly accurate. Rogue continued before she could answer. “So don’t.” Mai: “Don’t what?” “Think of it as personal.” Mai stared. Rogue: “Operational recovery.” Mai actually laughed. Once. Small. “That sounds almost human.” Rogue’s eyes sharpened. “Don’t spread it around.” Mai laughed again. There. That was better. --- Then she shook her head. “No.” Rogue: “No?” “We got paid for the work.” “Yes.” “We were not volunteering.” “I know.” “So you don’t owe us a retreat.” Rogue leaned back. Her expression flattened. Fixer again. Good. “You got paid for the work.” “Yes.” “You also paid for the damage.” Mai stopped. Rogue took another sip. “We’re done.” Mai: “Not the same thing.” Rogue’s eyes flicked up. “No.” Mai realized she had repeated the exact distinction Rogue had intended. Annoying. Rogue: “Exactly.” Mai looked away for a second. Toward the room. Afterlife moving around them. Normal business. Normal noise. No one here had any idea how much of the last several weeks had been manufactured. How much had not. Mai looked back. “We’re fine.” Rogue: “Didn’t say you weren’t.” “We’re home.” “I know.” “We don’t need—” Rogue interrupted. “Mai.” That tone. Mai stopped. Rogue: “I’m paying.” Mai exhaled through her nose. “You’re impossible.” “Yes.” --- Mai considered one last angle. “Food is already mostly handled.” Rogue’s eyes narrowed. “How?” “Panam came back.” Rogue’s expression changed immediately. Not much. Enough. “How much did she bring?” Mai stared. Rogue knew too. Of course she did. Mai: “Too much.” Rogue: “So normal.” “Yes.” “What did she buy?” “Everything.” “Useful.” Mai: “Three cases of wine.” Rogue looked at her. Mai: “I sent too much money.” Rogue: “Your fault.” “Yes.” “Any of it good?” “Yes.” Rogue nodded. “Then I’m not paying for food.” Mai smiled. “Progress.” “Place. Fuel. Whatever else.” “We have fuel.” “Then place.” Mai leaned back. “You really need to win this?” Rogue: “Yes.” Mai laughed. “Fine.” Rogue: “Good.” Mai pointed at her. “Do not sound pleased.” “I’m not.” “You are.” “Leave.” --- Mai stood. Then paused. “Seriously.” Rogue looked up. Mai: “No calls?” “No.” “No work?” “No.” “No ‘while you’re there’?” Rogue: “Do I need to put it in writing?” Mai considered. “Maybe.” Rogue stared. Mai smiled. “Worth asking.” Rogue looked back at the display. “Get out.” Mai turned. Took three steps. Rogue: “Mai.” She stopped. Looked back. Rogue did not look up. “Take the weekend.” Mai watched her. No smile this time. No joke. Just the sentence. Clipped. Practical. Finished. Mai nodded. “Yeah.” Then left before Rogue could ruin it. --- Ace was awake when Mai returned. Technically. She had moved from the couch to the floor. That did not improve the argument. Mai stepped inside. Ace looked up from where she was sitting cross-legged with a mug of coffee. “Alive.” Mai: “Barely.” “Rogue?” “Yes.” “Did she complain?” “No.” Ace frowned. “That’s suspicious.” Mai took off her jacket. “She’s paying.” Ace stopped. The mug halfway to her mouth. “What?” “Rogue’s paying for the place.” Ace stared. Then slowly: “Did you check her for fever?” Mai: “Yes.” “No you didn’t.” “No.” Ace put the mug down. “Why?” Mai looked at her. Ace’s expression changed. Less joke now. Mai: “She called it operational recovery.” Ace stared. Then snorted. “Of course she did.” Mai smiled. “Apparently she’s almost human.” Ace: “Dangerous rumor.” “Exactly what she said.” Ace laughed. --- Shammy appeared from the hallway. Hair loose. Settled. Mostly. Panam behind her. Moving like someone who had finally slept deeply. Very awake. Very pleased with herself. Reyes, still in the chair, opened one eye. Looked at both. Closed it again. “No.” Panam: “What?” Reyes: “Nothing.” Panam smiled. “That’s what I thought.” Ace looked at Shammy’s hair. Then Panam. Then wisely picked up her coffee. Mai noticed. Progress everywhere. --- Panam walked into the kitchen. “Rogue?” Mai: “Handled.” “She knows we’re unavailable?” “Yes.” Panam nodded. “Good.” Mai: “She’s paying for the place.” Panam stopped. Turned. “No shit.” “No shit.” Panam smiled slowly. “Fuck me.” Shammy, behind her: “Again?” Silence. Panam turned. Ace dropped her face into both hands. Reyes fell sideways in the chair laughing. Mai closed her eyes. Shammy stood there with the smallest possible smile. Her hair beginning to rise. Panam stared at her. Then pointed. “You have become dangerous while I was gone.” Shammy: “I had good teachers.” Ace, muffled through her hands: “Proud.” Panam looked at her. “Do not be.” Ace: “Impossible.” --- Mai walked past all of them toward the coffee. “Long weekend is on.” That cut through everything. Ace looked up. Reyes sat straighter. Panam stopped smiling just enough to listen. Shammy’s hand found hers. Mai poured a cup. “No work. No fallback. Rogue routes around us.” Ace: “Actually?” Mai looked at her. “Actually.” The room went quiet. Not heavy. Just surprised. Ace leaned back. Then smiled. Small. Real. “Fuck.” Panam squeezed Shammy’s hand. Reyes: “Now I’m worried.” Mai: “Why?” “Rogue being reasonable.” Panam: “Terrifying.” Shammy: “We should go anyway.” Ace looked at her. “Bold.” Shammy smiled. Mai lifted her coffee. “Good.” Then looked around the Safehouse. People still tired. People still bruised. People laughing anyway. A few days away had begun as a grill idea. Now it was real. And for once, Night City could survive without them. ---