![[Ace 181.6.png]] # CHAPTER 1 — TRIPLE Lena looked up from the half-disassembled jacket spread across her worktable when the door opened. Reyes stepped through alone. That was the first thing Lena noticed. The second was the expression. Not urgent. Not operational. No blood, no damaged armor, no bag of recovered hardware, no Ace trailing behind her with the particular innocent expression that usually meant something expensive had happened to somebody else's equipment. Just Reyes. “Got a minute?” Lena put the tool down. “For you? Sure.” Reyes closed the door behind her. “I need clothes.” Lena waited. Reyes waited back. Finally Lena glanced down at herself, then at the racks covering one wall. “You've come to a very strange place.” A corner of Reyes's mouth moved. “Cover clothes.” That made more sense. Lena turned fully toward her. “Operational?” “No.” “Corporate?” “No.” “Social?” “Sort of.” Lena's eyes narrowed. Reyes had known this part would be entertaining. She hadn't expected it to become entertaining quite this quickly. “What kind of cover?” “Premium joytoy.” Silence. Lena stared at her. Reyes stared back. Somewhere behind Lena, a sewing unit continued humming for several seconds before deciding it had completed whatever instruction it had been given and falling silent too. Lena leaned one hip against the table. “You.” “Yes.” “Premium joytoy.” “Yes.” Another pause. “Does Kiro know?” “No.” That answer came quickly enough to change Lena's expression. “Ace?” “No.” “Mai?” “No.” “Iris?” “No.” “Brenda?” “No.” Lena folded her arms. “Does _anyone_ know?” “Victor will.” “Will?” “I haven't been there yet.” Now Lena looked genuinely fascinated. This wasn't an existing operation Reyes was joining. This was Reyes building something. From scratch. And apparently doing it behind the backs of almost everyone who knew her. “All right,” Lena said slowly. “Why?” “I want to try it.” There was no joke in the answer. No cover story behind the cover story. Lena studied her for another moment, then nodded once. “Okay.” Reyes blinked. “That easy?” “You're an adult. You know what a joytoy does.” Lena shrugged. “I'm the woman who makes clothes. I'm not your mother.” “Good.” “But.” “There it is.” Lena pointed at her. “If you're going to walk into premium work wearing something I made, you're not walking in looking cheap.” “I wasn't planning to.” “Good. What do you want?” Reyes had already thought about that. “Elegant.” Lena nodded. “Expensive.” Another nod. “Almost conservative.” Lena stopped. “Almost.” “Yes.” “For a joytoy.” “Yes.” Lena stared at her again. Then a slow smile appeared. “Oh, now I see where you're going.” Reyes said nothing. “You don't want the clothes doing the work.” “No.” “You want them looking at you and wondering why they're looking at you.” “Closer.” Lena pushed away from the table and walked around Reyes once, already measuring with her eyes. “No obvious cutouts?” “Not unless they belong there.” “No neon straps everywhere.” “No.” “No giant JOYTOY sign over your ass.” Reyes looked over her shoulder. “That was an option?” “Not anymore.” “Tragic.” Lena snorted. “Fast-drop?” “Obviously.” “Ah.” Lena stopped in front of her. “There she is.” Reyes smiled. “Almost conservative,” Lena repeated. “Until somebody knows what they're looking at.” “Exactly.” “That I can do.” She reached for a tablet. “Hair?” “Not red.” “I assumed that much.” “Not black either.” Lena looked up immediately. That answer mattered. Reyes's black-haired cover already existed. It had a purpose, a behavioral vocabulary, a history. This wasn't it. “Separate identity?” “Completely.” “Good.” Lena brought up a color field. Reyes studied it for a moment. “Somewhere between copper and grey.” Lena dragged through several tones. “Copper-grey?” “Muted.” “Smoked?” “Maybe.” A few more adjustments. The color on the display settled into something difficult to name at first glance. Copper lived underneath it, but grey cooled it down until neither color quite won. Reyes pointed. “That.” Lena saved it. “Eyes?” “Very light brown.” “No gimmick?” “No gimmick.” “No full-eyeball?” “No.” “No reflective layer?” “No.” Lena looked faintly disappointed. “I'm beginning to understand why you came here first. You need professional help.” “I knew you'd come through.” “Fuck you.” Reyes smiled. Lena started building the wardrobe. Not one outfit. A language. Lines that were clean rather than loud. Expensive fabrics. Pieces that covered slightly more than the Jig-Jig average without looking prudish or misplaced. Details that became interesting only at closer range. Fast-drop construction hidden inside clothes that appeared too composed to come apart that easily. The contradiction began taking shape on the screen. Controlled clothes. Reyes imagined the woman inside them being anything but. Lena noticed her expression. “You already have the personality.” “I have an idea.” “Which is?” “Not Reyes.” “Very useful.” Reyes laughed quietly. Lena looked at her. That laugh, apparently, gave her another piece. “More social?” “Much.” “Flirty?” “Very.” “Quietly?” “No.” Lena's eyebrows climbed. “Now I'm interested.” “Bright. Open. Talks easily. Smiles a lot.” “You're building your own opposite.” “Not exactly.” “No?” Reyes considered it. She wasn't trying to create a woman who contradicted everything she was. That would be artificial, difficult to sustain. This woman had to come from somewhere real. “I'm turning some things up.” Lena's amusement faded into something more thoughtful. “That'll work better.” “I know.” “And the clothes turn them down.” Reyes looked at the design again. “Yes.” Lena grinned. “The clothes lie.” Reyes looked at her. Lena gestured toward the screen. “Look at her. Expensive. Controlled. Maybe even a little reserved if you don't know better.” She tapped the fast-drop specification. “Then she opens her mouth.” Reyes's smile widened. “That's the idea.” “Voice?” “Victor.” “Face?” “Victor.” “Good.” There was no territorial irritation in it. Lena knew exactly which parts belonged to her and which belonged to Victor. She enlarged the hair design instead. “I can make this work. Not Maeve copper. Not your red. Not anybody's neon. Under some lighting it'll read warmer, under some colder.” “Perfect.” “And light brown eyes against it will keep the whole thing softer.” Reyes nodded. Lena made another note. Then she stopped. Her gaze moved from the tablet to Reyes. “You really aren't telling them.” “No.” “How long?” “I don't know.” That answer was honest too. Lena slowly lowered the tablet. “And you expect me to sit around while Ace and Mai are talking about some new joytoy they met, knowing it's you?” “Yes.” “Kiro?” “Yes.” “Iris and Brenda?” “Yes.” Lena stared. Reyes remained perfectly calm. “You're an asshole.” “So I've been told.” “By all of them, probably.” “More than once.” Lena laughed, then shook her head. “I don't know if I can promise not to enjoy this.” “I didn't ask you not to enjoy it.” “Just not tell.” “Exactly.” Lena's eyes narrowed again. “Secrets cost extra.” Reyes had been waiting for that. “I pay triple if you don't tell anyone.” That stopped her. Lena looked at Reyes. Then at the tablet. Then back at Reyes. “Triple.” “Yes.” “You know I'd probably have kept my mouth shut anyway.” “I know.” “And you're still offering triple.” “Yes.” Lena extended her hand. “Deal.” Reyes took it. “Deal.” Lena released her and immediately turned back toward the screen. “All right. If I'm being paid triple, you're getting enough wardrobe that I don't have to see you again in three days because your secret second career needs another dress.” “Second career might be premature.” “You're having me build premium fast-drop clothing in multiple configurations.” “Experiment.” “Sure.” “Lena.” “Experiment.” Reyes gave her a look. Lena smiled sweetly. “Shoes.” “Walkable.” “Obviously.” “Actually walkable.” “You wound me.” “I've met you.” “Boots?” “Some.” “Heels?” “Yes.” “Something that looks completely inappropriate for Jig-Jig?” Reyes considered that. “Yes.” Lena pointed at her. “Now we're getting somewhere.” She began adding pieces. Reyes watched the wardrobe become real. It was strange how quickly the idea stopped feeling hypothetical. Hair first. Eyes. Clothes. Victor would do the difficult part—the face, the voice, the things that would survive close attention. But standing here, watching Lena assemble the visible edges of another woman, Reyes felt the first small shift. Not nervousness. Anticipation. Lena apparently saw that too. “You're actually looking forward to this.” “Yes.” “More than you expected?” Reyes took a second before answering. “I haven't done anything yet.” “That wasn't my question.” “No.” Lena waited. Reyes sighed. “Yes.” “Thought so.” She saved the final group of designs. “One last thing.” “What?” “What am I labeling all this?” Reyes knew exactly what she meant. Lena wasn't asking for a project number. She wanted the woman's name. Reyes looked at the copper-grey hair on the screen. At the almost-conservative clothes. At the very light brown eyes waiting in Lena's order queue. At the woman who didn't exist yet. Then she smiled. “Birgitta.” Lena typed it in. **BIRGITTA.** She looked at Reyes once more. “Okay, Birgitta.” Reyes felt something unexpectedly pleasant run through her at hearing it aloud for the first time. Lena noticed. Of course she did. “Oh,” she said. Reyes narrowed her eyes. “What?” Lena's grin became dangerous. “Nothing.” “Lena.” “Absolutely nothing.” Reyes headed for the door. Behind her, Lena called: “Have fun at Victor's, Birgitta.” Reyes stopped with her hand on the door. She didn't turn around. But she smiled. “That's the plan.” --- # CHAPTER 2 — VICTOR Victor looked up when Reyes walked into the clinic. “Hey.” “Hey.” His gaze dropped automatically over her as she approached the chair. No limp. No guarded movement. No blood. No obvious damaged chrome. Nothing smoking. Victor relaxed slightly. “With you people, I’m starting to appreciate appointments where nobody needs emergency surgery.” “Give it time.” “Don’t.” Reyes smiled and sat down. Victor rolled his chair closer. “So. What happened?” “Nothing.” He stopped. “Nothing.” “Correct.” “You came to a ripperdoc because nothing happened.” “Yes.” Victor stared at her. Reyes waited. “All right,” he said eventually. “What do you want?” “A face.” Victor’s expression barely changed. That, at least, was normal enough. “Cover?” “Yes.” “Operational?” “No.” “Corporate?” “No.” “Long-term infiltration?” “No.” Victor leaned back. “Okay.” “And a voice.” “Temporary?” “Yes.” “How temporary?” “Several days is enough. Natural fade after that.” Victor nodded. Still normal. “What kind of cover?” Reyes looked him directly in the eye. “Premium joytoy.” Victor stopped moving. Not dramatically. Just completely. Reyes watched him process it. Then Victor leaned forward and rested both forearms on his knees. “Say that again.” “Premium joytoy.” “You.” “Yes.” Victor looked toward the ceiling for a moment. Reyes could almost hear the internal inventory. Ace. Mai. Mandi. Dalia. Whatever other catastrophes had passed through his clinic recently. His gaze came back down. “Is this an operation?” “No.” “Somebody blackmailing you?” “No.” “Undercover job?” “No.” “Rogue?” “No.” “Wakako?” “No.” “Please don’t tell me this is one of Ace’s ideas.” “Ace doesn’t know.” Victor’s eyebrows rose. “Mai?” “No.” “Kiro?” “No.” Now Victor became interested. “Seriously?” “Seriously.” He studied her. “You’re doing this because you want to.” “Yes.” A few seconds passed. Then Victor shrugged. “Okay.” Reyes blinked. “That’s it?” “What do you want me to do, give you a lecture?” “No.” “You know what you’re doing?” “Yes.” “You know where you’re planning to work?” “Jig-Jig.” “Mox?” “If Suzie takes me.” That earned another look. “She doesn’t know either.” “No.” Victor slowly smiled. “Oh, this is going to be a disaster.” “Successful disaster.” “That remains to be seen.” “It will be.” “There’s the Reyes I recognize.” “That’s part of the problem.” Victor pointed at her. “Now we’re talking medicine.” He rolled toward one of the diagnostic displays. “Tell me what you need.” Reyes got up and moved beside him. “Complete facial change. Not enhancement. Not me with different cheekbones.” “Good.” “Different architecture.” “Better.” “Scandinavian.” Victor brought up a neutral facial model. “Broad category.” “I know.” “You want people guessing a country?” “No. I want the overall read.” “Fine.” He began adjusting the model. “Age?” “Close enough to mine that movement doesn’t become work.” “Smart.” “Natural.” “That word costs money.” “I have money.” “I know.” Reyes leaned against the counter. “Same class of mesh as Ms. B.” Victor looked sideways at her. “Now that costs _real_ money.” “I still have money.” “Apparently.” He turned back to the display. The technology was considerably more sophisticated than the cheap disguise meshes available through half the back-alley clinics in Night City. This wasn't a mask. A proper second-generation dermal-conforming face mesh became part of the wearer’s expression. It moved with muscle, skin and microexpression rather than sitting over them. Warmth remained warmth. A smile didn't suddenly become a mechanical approximation of one. Close contact didn't expose an artificial edge. Which was exactly why Reyes wanted it. “If somebody kisses me,” she said, “I don’t want them kissing hardware.” “They won't.” “If somebody touches my face?” “Feels natural.” “Temperature?” “Natural.” “Expression latency?” Victor looked offended. “Reyes.” “I’m asking.” “You’re insulting.” “Good. So none.” “None you’ll notice, and none a client should notice.” He rotated the developing face. It was already becoming somebody else. Reyes watched carefully. “Less severe.” Victor changed the jaw. “Eyes a little wider.” Another adjustment. “Not cute.” “I wasn’t making cute.” “You were drifting.” “I was not.” “You were.” Victor gave her a look and altered the model again. Reyes smiled. “That.” “You’re annoying.” “I pay.” “Unfortunately.” He saved the facial architecture. “Hair?” “Lena.” “Eyes?” “Lena.” “Clothes?” “Lena.” Victor nodded approvingly. “Good. Somebody remembers who does what around here.” “She’s doing copper-grey hair. Muted. Very light brown eyes.” “That’ll work with this.” He shifted the model again, adding approximate colors for reference. For the first time, Reyes could see the beginnings of the complete woman. Not herself. Not the black-haired specialist cover. Not a softened Reyes. Someone else. Victor glanced at her. “You’ve got a name?” “Birgitta.” He entered it into the local case file. **BIRGITTA** “All right. Voice.” “This matters more than the face.” Victor turned toward her. “That’s a statement.” “I know myself.” “Meaning?” “I can hold a different voice.” “But?” “Not for an entire shift while distracted.” Victor nodded immediately. “And you're planning to be very distracted.” “That would indicate the shift is going well.” He snorted. “Fair.” Reyes folded her arms. “I want the register physically moved. Not filtered.” “No external processor?” “No.” “No realtime modulator?” “No.” “Biosculpt.” “Yes.” Victor considered her natural voice. “How far?” “High.” His eyebrows rose. “High?” “Much higher than me.” “That's doable.” “Bright.” “That's partly delivery.” “I know.” “Resonance?” “Lighter.” “Breathy?” “No.” “Good.” “Alive.” Victor looked at her. “That one isn't medical.” “I know.” He smiled faintly. “Good.” He pulled up another diagnostic. “We can shift the stable range considerably without making it sound artificially pitched. Temporary tissue and resonance adjustment. Your natural resting register moves with it, so if you stop thinking about the voice—” “I still sound like Birgitta.” “Exactly.” “That’s what I want.” “You'll feel strange for the first few hours.” “I can handle strange.” “Swallowing may feel slightly different. Nothing major. No forcing the voice outside the new comfortable range just to test it.” “I know.” “And it fades rather than switches off.” “How long?” “Two to four days before you're functionally back to normal. Depends on how aggressively we set it.” “Good.” Victor turned in his chair. “Show me the personality.” Reyes stared at him. “What?” “The voice has to fit the person.” “You want me to perform Birgitta.” “I want to know what I'm building.” Reyes sighed. Then stopped leaning against the counter. Her posture changed first. Victor noticed. Shoulders loosened. Weight shifted. Her expression opened. The controlled observational stillness Reyes normally carried simply disappeared. She looked directly at Victor and smiled. Not Reyes’s small, knowing smile. Something brighter. Warmer. Immediate. “Oh, Victor,” she said in her natural voice, already pushing the delivery upward, “you could've just admitted you wanted to meet her.” Victor stared. Reyes widened the smile. “Better?” There was a beat. “Jesus.” Reyes dropped back into herself. “That good?” “That different.” “Good.” “No, I mean—” Victor pointed at her. “Do that again.” Reyes became Birgitta. It wasn't a transformation in the technological sense yet. Her face was still Reyes. Her voice was still Reyes. But suddenly the woman occupying both behaved as if the room existed specifically because she had arrived in it. “Hi,” she said brightly. Victor actually leaned back. Birgitta laughed. “There.” Victor watched her for another moment. Then he nodded. “Okay. I get it.” Reyes returned. “What?” “The voice shouldn't create her.” “No.” “It needs to get out of her way.” “Exactly.” Victor adjusted several parameters. “Higher than I would've chosen.” “Good.” “Still believable.” “Good.” “Enough brightness that nobody who's used to your voice should connect them casually.” “That's the point.” He glanced at her. “Casually?” Reyes smiled. “I’m planning to test it on people who know me.” Victor stopped typing. “Of course you are.” “Mandi should be working.” Victor closed his eyes. “Of course she is.” “Dalia too.” “Of course.” “Probably Deja.” Victor opened his eyes. “You're going to work beside Kiro without telling her.” “Yes.” “Iris and Brenda?” “Likely.” Victor stared at her. “And you’re expecting this face to survive that?” “Yes.” “This voice?” “Yes.” “This personality?” “Yes.” “And nobody recognizes you.” “That’s the experiment.” Victor considered the facial model again. Then the voice settings. Then Reyes. A professional challenge had just entered the room. That was obvious. “All right.” Reyes recognized the tone. Victor was no longer merely indulging one of their strange ideas. Now his craftsmanship had been challenged. He enlarged the face. “If we're doing this, we're doing it properly.” “That's why I'm here.” “No obvious seams under the jaw. Full expression mapping. I'll calibrate against your entire facial movement range, not just neutral.” “Good.” “Laughing.” “Yes.” “Eating.” “Yes.” “Kissing.” “Obviously.” Victor sighed. “Should've known.” “Premium joytoy.” “Yeah, yeah.” “Close physical contact is rather implied.” “I know what the job is, Reyes.” “Just checking.” “Keep talking and I'll give Birgitta a mustache.” “She could probably sell it.” Victor stared at her. Reyes stared back. He muttered something under his breath and returned to work. The scan began. Light moved over Reyes's face while Victor collected the underlying motion map. “Smile.” She did. “More.” She did. “Not that much. You look insane.” Reyes laughed. “Good. Again.” He mapped that too. Brows. Jaw. Cheeks. Squinting. Surprise. Annoyance. A dozen expressions. Then Victor stopped. “Birgitta.” Reyes changed. Bright smile. Open eyes. Head tilted slightly. “Hi.” Victor watched the movement data stream across the display. “Huh.” “What?” “Your face moves differently.” “I told you.” “No, you said the personality was different. This is physical.” “People move differently when they behave differently.” “I know that. Most people don't change this much intentionally.” “Useful?” “Very.” He captured another set. Birgitta laughing. Birgitta flirting. Birgitta listening with obvious interest. Birgitta looking amused. Birgitta looking pleased. Finally Victor stopped the scanner. “That's enough.” Reyes relaxed. “How long?” “Couple hours for fitting and calibration.” “And the voice?” “Same session.” “So tonight?” Victor looked at her. “You're working tonight?” “If Suzie says yes.” “You haven't even talked to her yet.” “No.” “And you already booked the face.” “Yes.” “Bought the wardrobe.” “Yes.” “Changed your voice.” “Yes.” Victor shook his head. “You're very confident.” Reyes looked at the face on the display. Birgitta looked back. “No.” Victor glanced toward her. Reyes smiled. “I'm curious.” That made him pause. Then he nodded. “Fair enough.” He prepared the chair. “Lie back.” Reyes did. Victor positioned the equipment around her and began the fitting sequence. The first contact of the mesh was cool. Then warm. Then almost impossible to distinguish from skin. Reyes stayed still while another face slowly learned hers. Victor worked without speaking for several minutes. Finally he stepped back. “Okay.” Reyes opened her eyes. Victor handed her a mirror. She raised it. And stopped. The woman looking back wasn't Reyes. Not really. The eyes were still temporarily hers. The hair was still red. But the face— Different jaw. Different cheeks. Different mouth. Different balance. Scandinavian without becoming a caricature of anything. Natural. Alive. Reyes smiled experimentally. The woman smiled back. She raised one eyebrow. So did Birgitta. Reyes laughed. And Birgitta laughed with her. “Good,” Reyes whispered. Victor watched the mesh. “No lag.” “None.” “Touch it.” She did. Warm. Soft. Skin. Reyes ran her fingertips along the unfamiliar cheek. “Very good.” “Don't sound so surprised.” “I wasn't.” “Bullshit.” Reyes lowered the mirror. “Voice.” Victor grinned. “That eager?” “Yes.” “All right.” The second procedure took longer. There was no dramatic moment. No switch. Just Victor working carefully, checking resonance, making Reyes speak, swallow, hum, speak again. Gradually her own voice began disappearing. Not becoming electronically distorted. Moving. Higher. Lighter. Brighter. At first Reyes kept trying to compensate unconsciously, pulling herself toward her familiar register. Victor caught it. “Stop fighting it.” “I’m not.” “You are.” “I hate when you're right.” “Everybody does.” Another adjustment. “Again.” “My name is Reyes.” The voice coming out of her mouth no longer belonged with the sentence. Reyes stopped. Victor smiled. “There.” She swallowed. Spoke again. “My name is Reyes.” High. Bright. Natural. Wrong. Perfect. A slow grin spread across the unfamiliar face. Victor pointed. “Now do her.” Reyes looked at him. Posture loosened. Eyes brightened. The smile changed. And when she spoke again, the voice fit. “Hi, Victor.” Victor froze. Birgitta leaned slightly toward him. “Nice to finally meet you.” He stared at her for several seconds. Then shook his head. “Yeah.” Birgitta smiled wider. “Yeah what?” Victor gestured vaguely at all of her. “This is going to work.” She sat up. “Good.” “No.” He pointed at her again. “This is going to work _way too well_.” Birgitta laughed. Bright. Easy. Nothing like Reyes. Victor watched her get down from the chair. “You still need Lena's hair and eyes.” “I know.” “And final facial calibration after you've worn the mesh for a while.” “I know.” “And don't push the voice.” “I know.” “And if anything hurts—” “I call.” “Good.” She started toward the exit. “Reyes.” She stopped. Looked back. Victor immediately grimaced. “No. That's weird now.” Birgitta's smile returned. “Better get used to it.” “How long are you keeping this secret?” She considered the question. Then shrugged lightly. “I don't know.” Victor folded his arms. “Kiro is going to kill you.” “Only if she finds out.” “Ace?” “Probably laugh.” “Mai?” “Definitely laugh.” “Iris?” “Depends.” “Brenda?” Birgitta thought about that. “Laugh until she falls over.” Victor nodded. “Yeah. That sounds right.” She reached the door. “And Victor?” “Yeah?” Her expression softened—not back into Reyes, but into something sincerely grateful that still belonged to Birgitta. “Thank you.” Victor smiled. “Have fun.” Birgitta opened the door. “That,” she said brightly, “is the plan.” Then she walked out of the clinic. Victor stared after her. A moment later he looked at the diagnostic screen. At the file name. **BIRGITTA.** He sighed. “Twenty-five thousand says this gets complicated.” --- # CHAPTER 3 — BIRGITTA Lena opened the door. Stopped. And stared. The woman standing in the corridor smiled brightly at her. “Hi.” Lena's eyes narrowed. There was something familiar about the posture. No. Not even that. The posture was wrong too. The woman was slightly taller in presence than Reyes ever seemed to be, despite being exactly the same height. Shoulders loose. Weight resting casually on one leg. Head tilted just enough to make the eye contact feel personal rather than analytical. Red hair. Wrong face. And that voice. High. Bright. Warm. Lena blinked. “Reyes?” The woman's smile widened. “Successful start.” “Holy shit.” She stepped aside. “Get in here.” The woman walked past her. Lena closed the door and immediately circled her. “Victor did all that today?” “Mm-hm.” “Face.” “Victor.” “Voice.” “Victor.” Lena leaned closer without touching. The new face moved naturally as the woman smiled back at her. “That's good.” “I know.” “No, that's annoyingly good.” “Also yes.” Lena reached up. “Can I?” “Of course.” Her fingers touched the unfamiliar cheek. Warm. Soft. No obvious transition. She moved gently toward the jawline. Nothing. “Fuck.” “Victor will appreciate your professional assessment.” “I hate that man.” “No, you don't.” “No, I don't.” Lena stepped back. “Smile.” The woman smiled. “Bigger.” She did. “Laugh.” A bright laugh filled the room. Lena stared again. “That's not fair.” “What?” “You sound nothing like yourself.” “That was rather the point.” Even the cadence had changed. Not completely. There were tiny things underneath it that Lena could probably learn to hear if she spent enough time around Birgitta. But she was looking for them. Anyone who wasn't? Not a chance. “Okay,” Lena said. “Sit down.” The woman moved toward the chair. Lena stopped her. “No.” She looked back. “Walk again.” “What?” “From the door.” A grin. “You're enjoying this.” “Triple.” “Fair.” She returned to the door. Lena pointed across the room. “Walk.” She did. Lena watched. “Again.” The second time, Reyes deliberately walked like Reyes. Controlled. Economical. Every movement quietly aware of the room around her. Lena immediately pointed. “That.” Reyes stopped. “That's what will fuck you.” “I know.” “Good.” She went back. Third pass. Birgitta. Not exaggerated. Not runway swagger. Just more social movement. Her attention seemed to reach outward instead of inward. She glanced toward Lena before Lena spoke. Smiled because their eyes met. Let her hips move naturally instead of unconsciously suppressing anything unnecessary. Lena nodded. “Better.” “I've been practicing.” “When?” “Walking here.” “In that face?” “Yes.” “You walked through Night City looking like that with red hair?” “It was educational.” “How many people stared?” “Less than you'd think.” Lena snorted. “Night City.” “Exactly.” Outside, somebody could walk past with polished synthetic skin, a visible chrome jaw or a full-conversion body and still be one more person trying to get somewhere before traffic became worse. A woman with the wrong hair color for her face wasn't exactly an emergency. Lena walked to the prepared station. “All right.” She picked up the ChromeLock system. “Let's finish killing Reyes.” “That sounds unnecessarily dramatic.” “You're paying triple. You get drama.” The red began disappearing. Not under dye. Not under a wig. ChromeLock took hold strand by strand, replacing the visual language Reyes had carried into the room. The new color emerged slowly. Grey at first. Then warmer when Lena shifted the light. Copper lived inside it without ever becoming copper-red. Muted. Smoked. Difficult to categorize. Reyes watched the mirror. Victor's face had already changed the geometry. The hair changed the person. Lena worked until every angle behaved correctly. Then she stepped away. “Well?” Reyes turned her head. Under one light, the hair looked almost cool grey. Under another, restrained copper appeared underneath. “Perfect.” “Obviously.” “Modest.” Lena looked offended. “Get out.” Reyes laughed. “Eyes.” “Sit still.” The contacts came next. Very light brown. Nothing luminous. Nothing reflective. Nothing obviously synthetic. In Night City, that almost made them unusual. Lena fitted the first. Then the second. Reyes blinked. Looked into the mirror. And disappeared. She didn't expect the effect to be that complete. The red hair had been the last obvious anchor. The violet eyes the other. Both were gone. The woman in the mirror had muted copper-grey hair, very light brown eyes and a face Reyes had never seen before today. Lena stood behind her. “Hello.” Reyes smiled. The woman smiled. “Hello.” Lena shook her head. “Nope.” “What?” “Don't do Reyes.” “I wasn't.” “You were halfway there.” Reyes studied herself. Lena was right. The expression had been too small. Too contained. She let it go. The next smile came easier. Open. Interested. A little shameless. Lena pointed at the mirror. “Her.” Reyes held the expression. “Birgitta.” “Exactly.” Lena turned toward the clothing rack. “And now we find out whether I understood the assignment.” The first outfit looked almost disappointing on the hanger. That was deliberate. A fitted dark dress with clean lines. High enough at the chest to avoid advertising anything. Hem short enough to belong in Night City without making a declaration. Fine material that didn't shout its price but certainly didn't hide it either. No neon. No transparent panels. No ridiculous cutouts. No obvious hardware. Reyes looked at it. “You made me respectable.” “I made Birgitta respectable.” “Dangerous.” “You haven't seen the fast-drop.” “Ah.” Lena smiled. “There she is.” A few minutes later, Birgitta stood in front of the mirror wearing it. The transformation became absurd. The face suggested Scandinavian money. The dress suggested expensive restraint. The hair suggested somebody who had paid a lot to make an unusual color look effortless. The eyes were soft. Nothing about her screamed Jig-Jig Street. Then Birgitta turned slightly toward Lena. “Well?” That voice ruined the illusion immediately. Not because it didn't fit. Because it fit a completely different personality. Lena started laughing. “Oh, fuck me.” Birgitta's eyebrows rose. “Is that professional feedback?” “The clothes lie.” Birgitta smiled. “Good.” “You don't.” “No.” Lena walked around her. “You look like you should be drinking something overpriced at a corpo reception.” “Mm.” “And then you smile like that.” Birgitta smiled more. “Stop helping.” “Can't.” “And then you talk.” “Hello.” “Jesus Christ.” Birgitta laughed. Lena reached toward the side of the dress. “Watch.” One movement. The construction released. The elegant dress changed from secure garment to something that could be removed almost instantly without tearing, fumbling or turning the moment into a fight with expensive fabric. Birgitta looked down. Then back up. “Oh.” “Almost conservative.” “I like you.” “You already liked me.” “More now.” “Put it back.” Birgitta did. It took longer than dropping it. Naturally. Lena adjusted one fastening. “Again.” Drop. Reset. Again. By the third attempt Birgitta knew exactly where everything was. “Good,” Lena said. “You'll have several variants. Same principle, different silhouettes. Some dresses. Skirt. Shorts.” “Shorts?” “You looked offended.” “I wasn't.” “You were.” “Show me.” Lena did. Birgitta approved. The footwear followed. Actual walkable heels. Boots. One pair that looked almost too restrained for the street. One pair that absolutely did not. Lena had apparently allowed herself a little rebellion. Birgitta picked up the latter. “Almost conservative?” “I said _almost_.” “Fair.” She changed. Then walked. Lena watched. “Again.” Birgitta walked back. “No Reyes.” “I wasn't Reyes.” “You checked the door reflection.” “So?” “Reyes checks reflections.” “People check reflections.” “Not like that.” Birgitta sighed. “You're annoyingly good at this.” “Triple.” “Right.” Again. This time she let the room come to her. Lena moved deliberately into her path. Birgitta met her eyes. Smiled. Didn't calculate an exit route. Didn't automatically place Lena's hands. Didn't check the tool bench. Just saw her. “Hi.” Lena stared. “That's fucking creepy.” Birgitta laughed. “What?” “I know you're in there.” “Do you?” “Yes.” Birgitta stepped a little closer. Lena held her ground. “Are you sure?” That bright voice. That unfamiliar face. Light brown eyes. Copper-grey hair. The smile. Lena's certainty lasted exactly long enough for Birgitta to notice it wobble. Then Lena shoved her lightly in the shoulder. “Fuck off.” Birgitta burst out laughing. “Okay. That was worth triple by itself.” “You're horrible.” “So I've been told.” “There. Reyes.” Birgitta immediately caught it. The voice had stayed perfect. The face had stayed perfect. But the phrase belonged to Reyes. Interesting. She looked toward the mirror. “That'll be harder than the tech.” “Obviously.” “Vocabulary.” “Movement.” “Timing.” “Your whole resting attitude.” Birgitta nodded. Then deliberately stopped nodding the way Reyes did. Lena caught that too. “Oh, you're going to be scary good at this.” “That’s the idea.” “No.” Lena folded her arms. “That's not the idea anymore.” Birgitta looked at her. “What is?” “You're having fun.” Silence. Not Reyes silence. Birgitta considered the accusation with her head slightly tilted. Then smiled. “Yes.” “You haven't even started.” “I know.” “You haven't talked to Suzie.” “I know.” “You don't know if she'll take you.” “I know.” “You don't have a single booking.” “I know.” Lena gestured at her. “And you're already having fun.” Birgitta looked back into the mirror. That was true. The original question had been whether she could do it. Could she build a cover good enough to stand beside Ace, Mai, Kiro, Iris and Brenda without being recognized? That still mattered. A lot. But somewhere between Victor changing her voice and Lena making her walk across the room for the fifth time, another question had appeared. What would it feel like to spend an entire evening like this? Not hiding Reyes. Being Birgitta. She smiled at herself. Lena groaned. “That smile.” “What about it?” “That's going to make you money.” Birgitta laughed. “Good.” “Speaking of which. Rate?” “Twenty-five thousand and one.” Lena stared. “Twenty-five thousand and _one_?” “Yes.” “Why?” “I heard Mandi's twenty-five.” “And?” “I wanted to be a little different.” Lena covered her face with one hand. “That's so stupid.” “I know.” “I love it.” “I know.” “Does Mandi know?” “No.” “Does Mandi know _you_ know?” “No.” Lena slowly lowered her hand. “Oh, this is getting better.” “Don't.” “I didn't say anything.” “You're thinking loudly.” “I am being paid triple to think quietly.” Birgitta pointed at her. “Exactly.” Lena mimed locking her lips. Then immediately ruined it. “What happens when you walk up to Mandi?” “I don't know.” “What happens when Kiro starts flirting with you?” Birgitta paused. Lena saw it. “Oh.” “Nothing.” “That pause wasn't nothing.” “I'm thinking.” “About Kiro flirting with you.” “About maintaining the cover.” “Sure.” Birgitta gave her a flat look. It didn't work. Not with that face. Lena laughed again. “Oh, Reyes, you have made a terrible mistake.” Birgitta froze. Not because Lena had used the name. Because for half a second it felt wrong. Reyes belonged to someone else. The woman in the mirror looked back at her. Birgitta. Lena saw the change. “What?” Birgitta shook her head. “Nothing.” “No. What?” She considered lying. Then didn't. “That name felt strange.” “Reyes?” “Yes.” Lena became quieter. “You've been wearing the cover for what, a couple of hours?” “Not even that.” “And?” Birgitta looked at herself. “I don't know.” That answer interested her more than it worried her. Lena watched her for another moment. Then nodded toward the rack. “Try the next one.” No analysis. No lecture. Good. Birgitta changed. Then again. Dress. Skirt. Shorts. Boots. Heels. Each outfit belonged to the same woman without looking like a uniform. Each one carried the same contradiction. Composed at first glance. Dangerously easy to remove. By the end, Birgitta had favorites. Lena noticed those too and marked them for duplicates. Finally Birgitta returned to the first dark dress. “Tonight?” Lena asked. “Yes.” “Straight to Suzie?” “Yes.” “You have an appointment?” “No.” Lena stared at her. Birgitta smiled. “You're just going to walk into Lizzie's and ask Suzie Q for a premium slot.” “Yes.” “Cold.” “Yes.” “As Birgitta.” “Who else?” Lena shook her head slowly. “You really do have balls.” Birgitta glanced down at herself. “No.” Lena closed her eyes. “I walked into that.” “You sprinted.” “Get out.” Birgitta laughed and picked up the bag containing the rest of the wardrobe. At the door, Lena called after her. “Wait.” Birgitta turned. Lena studied her from head to toe one final time. The face. The eyes. The copper-grey hair. The expensive dark dress. The heels. The posture. Then she looked directly into Birgitta's eyes. “I wouldn't know.” Birgitta's smile disappeared. Lena continued. “If I hadn't watched this happen—if you walked past me somewhere tonight—I wouldn't know.” That landed differently from the jokes. Lena knew Reyes. Not as intimately as some of the others did. But well enough. And she had been actively looking for failures. Birgitta slowly smiled again. “Good.” “Don't get cocky.” “Too late.” “There she is.” “Reyes?” Lena shook her head. “No.” She smiled. “Birgitta.” For some reason, that felt even better the second time. Birgitta opened the door. “See you.” “Hopefully not tonight.” “Why?” “Because if you come back tonight, something went wrong.” Birgitta considered that. “Fair.” “And remember.” “What?” Lena pointed at her. “The clothes lie.” Birgitta's bright smile returned. She stepped backward into the corridor. “I don't.” Then she turned and walked away. Lena stood in the doorway watching until the copper-grey hair disappeared around the corner. Only then did she look down at the payment confirmation. Triple. She laughed quietly to herself. “Worth every eddie.” --- Birgitta stepped onto the street. Night City moved around her without caring that Reyes had disappeared. A courier with polished chrome legs cut through pedestrian traffic while arguing into a holo about a delivery window. A woman with translucent synthetic forearms waited beside a food stall. Across the street, something tall and feline in an immaculate jacket climbed into a cab while the driver complained about the tail clearance. Nobody stopped. Nobody stared. Nobody knew her. Birgitta caught her reflection in a dark window. She smiled at it. Then she headed for Lizzie's. Suzie Q didn't know she was coming. Which made two of them. Because Reyes still wasn't entirely sure what Birgitta was going to do when she got there. For once, she found that uncertainty exhilarating. --- # CHAPTER 4 — SUZIE Q Lizzie's was busy enough that Birgitta had to wait thirty seconds before anyone paid serious attention to her. She considered that encouraging. The club moved around her in layers. Music under conversation. Conversation under laughter. Light crawling over chrome, synthetic skin and bare shoulders. A Mox woman passed carrying two drinks, one arm sleeved in animated tattoos that changed pattern as she moved. At the bar, somebody with a polished silver jaw was arguing cheerfully with a woman whose hair shifted through three colors during the conversation. Nobody stopped because Birgitta had entered. A few people looked. That was different. Birgitta smiled at one of them. The man smiled back. She kept walking. Interesting. Reyes would have registered him, classified the attention and moved on. Birgitta enjoyed it. That difference was becoming easier much faster than she'd expected. She reached the bar. Suzie Q wasn't there. Birgitta took a seat. The bartender looked over. “What'll it be?” “Something I can drink slowly.” “That specific, huh?” “I'm waiting for someone.” “Anybody I should warn?” Birgitta smiled. “Suzie.” The bartender paused. “About what?” “Hopefully nothing.” “That is not reassuring.” “It wasn't meant to be.” The bartender studied her for a second, then put a drink in front of her. Birgitta glanced at it. “What is it?” “Something you can drink slowly.” She laughed. “Fair.” The bartender moved on. Birgitta lifted the glass. Didn't drink yet. Instead she let herself look around. Not scan. Look. That distinction mattered. She saw people rather than exits. Clothes rather than concealed weapons. Expressions rather than threat vectors. Not because she had somehow stopped being Reyes underneath. She couldn't. But Birgitta gave the information different priorities. A couple near the edge of the floor were having an argument that neither seemed particularly upset about. A Mox girl leaned against a pillar talking to a joytoy whose artificial skin carried a subtle pearl sheen. Someone farther back had digitigrade legs and a jacket expensive enough that Birgitta suspected the legs had cost less. She caught another person looking at her. This time a woman. Birgitta met her eyes. Held them. Smiled. The woman looked away first. Birgitta finally took a sip. Oh. That was good. She turned toward the bartender. “You're dangerous.” Without looking up, the bartender replied, “Suzie's still worse.” “I was hoping.” That got a glance. Birgitta smiled into her drink. This was fun. She hadn't even started. A few minutes later the atmosphere immediately around the bar changed. Not dramatically. Nobody announced anything. People simply adjusted. Birgitta noticed before she saw why. Suzie Q was approaching. Birgitta had seen her plenty of times. Suzie had seen Reyes plenty of times. That knowledge produced a small, delicious spark of anticipation. Suzie reached the bar. Said something quietly to the bartender. Then her eyes moved to Birgitta. Stopped. Birgitta smiled. Suzie didn't. Good. “I'm told you're waiting for me.” Bright voice. Easy eye contact. “Yes.” Suzie looked her over once. Not sexually. Professionally. Face. Hair. Clothes. Shoes. Posture. Hands. Then back to the face. “Do I know you?” Birgitta almost laughed. “No.” Suzie held her gaze. “Should I?” “No.” Also true. Suzie glanced toward the bartender. The bartender shrugged. Suzie looked back. “What do you want?” “To work.” “At Lizzie's?” “Preferably Jig-Jig.” That changed the inspection. Suzie's gaze sharpened. “As what?” Birgitta smiled. “Premium joytoy.” Silence. Not much. Just enough. Suzie pulled out the seat beside her and sat down. “Name.” “Birgitta.” “Just Birgitta?” “For work.” “Who sent you?” “Nobody.” “Who recommended you?” “Nobody.” “Who told you to come to me?” “Nobody.” Suzie leaned back slightly. “You just walked in.” “Yes.” “And asked for me.” “Yes.” “And now you're telling me you want premium work.” “Yes.” Birgitta's smile grew. “I thought it was going rather efficiently.” Suzie's expression remained flat. The bartender, unfortunately, made a small choking noise several meters away. Suzie ignored it. “Experience?” Birgitta had prepared for this question. She'd also decided beforehand that lying unnecessarily was stupid. “Not as a professional joytoy.” Suzie stared at her. “No experience.” “Not professionally.” “And you want premium.” “Yes.” “Why?” “Because I'm not interested in doing it badly.” That got something. Tiny. Almost a smile. Almost. Suzie folded her arms. “Those aren't the only two options.” “I know.” “So why premium?” Birgitta looked around the club briefly. Then back at her. “Because I know what kind of clients I want. I know what kind of environment I want. I can afford not to work. I'm not here because somebody put me here. I'm not desperate for volume.” Suzie listened. “And?” “And I think I'll be good at it.” There. Not arrogance. Not quite. Confidence certainly. Suzie studied her. “You _think_.” “Yes.” “You don't know.” “No.” That answer seemed to matter. Birgitta didn't try to inflate it. Suzie leaned one elbow on the bar. “What do you think premium means?” “Not prettier.” Suzie's eyes narrowed slightly. “Go on.” “Not more expensive clothes either.” “Good, because those clothes are trying very hard to convince me you're going to a business dinner.” Birgitta smiled brightly. “They lie.” Suzie looked at the dress again. “Do they.” “Yes.” Birgitta reached discreetly toward one concealed fastening. Suzie's hand moved. “Don't.” Birgitta stopped instantly. Suzie looked at her. Birgitta slowly withdrew her hand. “All right.” That was another test. She could feel it. Suzie had given an instruction. Birgitta had followed it without turning compliance into submission, offense or performance. Suzie noticed. “Fast-drop?” “Yes.” “Lena?” Birgitta had anticipated that too. “Yes.” Suzie became very still. Of course. Lena's work wasn't anonymous to someone who spent this much time around premium joytoys. “Interesting.” Birgitta took another sip. Suzie watched her. “You know Lena.” “Yes.” “Who introduced you?” “Nobody.” “You walked into Lena's and asked for premium joytoy clothes too?” “More or less.” “How much did that cost?” “Enough.” Suzie almost smiled again. “Face work?” “Yes.” “Good work.” “Thank you.” “That wasn't a compliment to you.” “I'll pass it along.” “To who?” Birgitta smiled. “Professional confidentiality.” Suzie's eyes hardened just slightly. Birgitta didn't move. That answer could have been cute. She deliberately didn't make it cute. Suzie let the silence sit. Reyes would have been comfortable with it. Birgitta decided not to be silent. “So far I'm doing terribly at the interview, aren't I?” Suzie blinked. Then the corner of her mouth moved. “There you are.” Birgitta tilted her head. “Where?” “I was wondering how long you'd sit there acting composed.” Birgitta laughed. “I'm trying to make a good impression.” “No, you're not.” “Oh.” “You're trying to make an accurate one.” That pleased her. “Better strategy.” “Usually.” Suzie looked around the room once. “Come on.” She stood. Birgitta picked up her drink. Suzie looked at it. “Leave it.” Birgitta left it. They walked toward the soundproof back room. Birgitta followed without asking where they were going. She knew. That was a problem. Reyes knew. Would Birgitta? She corrected before reaching the door. “Private interview?” Suzie glanced back. “Yes.” Good. No visible mistake. They entered. The door closed. The club disappeared. No music. No crowd. No accidental listeners. Suzie didn't sit immediately. Neither did Birgitta. Suzie noticed. “Sit.” Birgitta sat. Suzie took the chair opposite. “All right, Birgitta.” Hearing the name from Suzie felt different. More official somehow. “What are your limits?” Birgitta answered. Not with a rehearsed encyclopedia. Not with an attempt to sound fearless. Clear categories. Clear refusals. Things she'd consider depending on the client and circumstances. Things she actively liked. Things she was curious about. Suzie interrupted occasionally. Clarified. Pushed at ambiguous wording. Birgitta corrected where needed. Eventually Suzie said, “You keep saying ‘depends.’” “Yes.” “That's dangerous if you don't know what it depends on.” “I do.” “What?” “The person.” Suzie waited. “The combination,” Birgitta continued. “The dynamic. Whether I trust what I'm hearing. Whether everybody involved seems to understand what they're asking for.” “You planning to psychoanalyze clients?” “No.” “Good.” “I'd charge extra.” Suzie stared. Birgitta smiled. There. A real laugh escaped Suzie this time. Short. But real. “Fuck.” “I'll take that as progress.” “Don't.” “Too late.” Suzie leaned back. “What are you actually looking for?” That was harder. Birgitta could have given the professional answer. Instead she gave the true one. “Variety.” “Sexual?” “People.” Suzie looked interested. Birgitta continued. “I don't need every client to look the same. I don't need every booking to have the same structure. If something's unusual, that doesn't make it bad.” “How unusual?” “I don't know yet.” Suzie's eyebrows rose. “That's not an answer.” “It is.” Birgitta leaned forward slightly. “I don't want the strangest thing somebody can find just because it's strange. I'm not collecting stories.” “Good.” “But if you have a request where you think, ‘Most of the girls are going to pause at this one’—” She smiled. “Ask me.” Suzie stared at her. Not shocked. Evaluating. “You'll still say no.” “Of course.” “When?” “When I don't want it.” Simple. Suzie nodded once. That answer mattered too. “No heroics.” “No.” “No proving how open-minded you are.” “No.” “No client gets to tell you that because you accepted one unusual booking, you owe them another.” “No.” “No fucking competition over who can take the weirdest client.” Birgitta laughed. “Definitely no.” Suzie pointed at her. “I mean it.” “So do I.” “Good.” Silence again. This time Birgitta let it remain. Suzie eventually asked: “Why joytoy work?” Birgitta considered how much truth she could give without giving Reyes. “Curiosity.” “About sex?” “Yes.” “That's it?” “No.” “About what?” “Who I am when I'm doing it.” Suzie's expression changed. Only slightly. Birgitta realized she'd given her something real. “First time?” “As a joytoy.” “You keep qualifying that.” “Because it's accurate.” “Plenty of experience otherwise?” Birgitta smiled. “Yes.” “Multiple partners?” “Yes.” “Women?” “Yes.” “Men?” “Yes.” “Groups?” “Yes.” “Being watched?” “Yes.” “Watching?” “Yes.” “Control dynamics?” Birgitta paused. Not because the answer was difficult. Because somewhere outside this room, if the timing worked out, Dalia might currently have Deja on a leash. “Yes.” Suzie noticed the pause. “Interesting.” “Don't.” “Didn't say anything.” “You were about to.” “I was.” Birgitta smiled. Suzie shook her head. “You know people in this business.” “I know _of_ people in this business.” Very carefully phrased. Suzie caught that. “Who?” “Mandi.” “Know her?” “No.” True. Birgitta had never met Mandi. Reyes couldn't meet Ace's cover as another person. Birgitta could. “Dalia?” “I've heard the name.” Also true, in the only sense that mattered here. “Deja?” “Yes.” “Nova and Vega?” “Yes.” Suzie watched her. “You've done homework.” “I dislike walking into things blind.” That was dangerously Reyes. Suzie didn't know Reyes well enough for it to matter. Still. Birgitta filed it away. Suzie continued. “What have you heard about Mandi?” “Good things.” “Specific.” Birgitta smiled. “Twenty-five thousand.” Suzie's eyes shifted. Ah. There it was. “What are you charging?” Birgitta's smile became positively delighted. “Twenty-five thousand and one.” Suzie stared. One second. Two. Three. “Twenty-five thousand and _one_.” “Yes.” “Why?” “I wanted to be a little different.” Suzie kept staring. Birgitta held it. Finally Suzie rubbed one hand across her face. “You walked in here with no professional experience, no recommendation, a premium wardrobe, a high-end face job, and you're asking twenty-five thousand and one eddies an hour because you heard Mandi charges twenty-five.” “When you say it like that, it sounds silly.” “It _is_ silly.” “I know.” “Then why?” Birgitta smiled. “Because you'll remember it.” Suzie stopped. Birgitta said nothing else. There. That was the real answer beneath the joke. Suzie slowly leaned back. “You've thought about this.” “Yes.” “How long?” “Long enough.” “And nobody sent you.” “No.” “Nobody's waiting for a cut.” “No.” “Nobody owns your debt.” “No.” “Nobody's going to show up tomorrow claiming you belong to them.” Birgitta's smile disappeared completely. “No.” Suzie held her gaze. Good. The answer had been immediate. No performance. No ambiguity. Then Suzie nodded. “All right.” Birgitta waited. Suzie stood. “So?” “You want to work?” Birgitta's eyebrows rose. “Yes.” “Tonight?” “Yes.” “Full shift?” Birgitta hadn't expected the question to produce quite that much excitement. She controlled it badly. Suzie saw. “Oh, Jesus.” “What?” “You're actually excited.” “Yes.” “At least you're honest.” “I try.” Suzie opened the door. Noise flooded back in. Birgitta stood. “Does that mean yes?” Suzie looked over her shoulder. “It means I'm giving you a chance.” Birgitta smiled. “Premium?” “Don't push it.” “That's not an answer.” Suzie stared at her. Birgitta smiled more brightly. Finally Suzie sighed. “Yes. Premium.” Birgitta's grin became enormous. “But.” “There it is.” Suzie pointed at her. “You fuck around with my girls, my clients, my security or my rules, you're done.” “Understood.” “If you're unsure, you ask.” “Yes.” “If something feels wrong, you walk.” “Yes.” “If a client doesn't accept no, Mox handles it.” “Yes.” “And twenty-five thousand and one?” Birgitta waited. Suzie shook her head. “I'm allowing it because I want to see somebody actually pay the extra eddie.” Birgitta laughed. “Deal.” Suzie stepped into the club. Birgitta followed. They hadn't gone five meters before Suzie stopped. “Oh.” Birgitta looked at her. “What?” Suzie pointed toward the far side of the room. “Your timing is either excellent or catastrophic.” Birgitta followed the gesture. And almost lost the cover on the spot. Mandi. Bright, unmistakable, already working the room. Nearby, Nova and Vega were together. And beyond them— Dalia. With Deja at the end of a leash. Birgitta stared for precisely the amount of time a newcomer reasonably might. No more. Inside, Reyes was laughing so hard she could barely think. Suzie glanced at her. “You know them?” Birgitta looked back at Suzie. Bright smile. “Only by reputation.” Suzie nodded. “Good.” Then she walked away. Birgitta remained where she was for another second. Five people. Five people who knew Reyes. Not one of them had looked at her twice. She slowly turned back toward the room. Her first shift had just become considerably more interesting. And Birgitta— Birgitta was going to enjoy every fucking minute of it. --- # CHAPTER 5 — TWENTY-FIVE THOUSAND AND ONE Birgitta didn't move immediately. That would have been Reyes. Reyes would have taken the second Suzie gave her and used it to assess the room properly. Positions. People. Relationships. Who was watching whom. Who was working. Who wasn't. Where Mox security stood. Where the easy exits were. Instead, Birgitta looked at Mandi. And smiled. Not because she was Ace. Because Birgitta had heard of Mandi. That was the rule. The distinction was ridiculous. It was also suddenly very important. Mandi was leaning against the bar, neon-orange hair impossible to miss even in Lizzie's. Her black contacts made her gaze look almost unnaturally complete when she turned toward someone. Luxury joytoy presentation from head to toe, practiced without looking rehearsed. Ace was nowhere in sight. Good. Nearby, Nova and Vega Marlow were working as a pair even while they weren't actively with a client. Their independently designed faces remained clearly distinct; Lena's coordinated styling connected them. Two-tone chrome hair. One pair of eyes black void, the other white void. Iris and Brenda had vanished too. Very good. Then Birgitta looked toward Dalia and nearly smiled too much. Dalia had Deja's leash in one hand. That alone wasn't unusual. Reyes had seen their control dynamic before. But something was different tonight. Deja stayed close. Not because the leash forced distance. Because Dalia had decided where she belonged. A man approached them. Deja saw him. Reyes recognized the tiny shift immediately. Interest. Not necessarily sexual interest. Evaluation. Normally Deja would have engaged if she wanted to. Tonight she didn't. Her eyes went to Dalia. Dalia looked at the man. Once. Then continued walking. A small movement of the leash. Deja followed. No conversation. No negotiation. And Deja— smiled. Birgitta's eyebrows rose. Oh. Interesting. Very interesting. She knew Kiro. She knew Mai. She knew the normal version of this game. This wasn't it. Something had changed. Which meant Reyes had just walked into the middle of another experiment without anyone knowing she was there. The universe, apparently, loved her. “New?” Birgitta turned. A woman had stopped beside her. Mid-thirties, perhaps. Apparently natural face, visible chrome along one temple, beautifully tailored jacket. Birgitta smiled. “Is it that obvious?” The woman looked her over. “Little bit.” “Damn.” “Don't worry. Give it twenty minutes.” “Twenty?” “Ten if you're good.” Birgitta laughed. “I like your confidence.” “Not confidence. Pattern recognition.” The woman nodded toward Mandi. “First night she worked, half the street knew by midnight.” Birgitta glanced toward Mandi. “Good?” The woman gave her a look. “You really are new.” Birgitta's smile grew. “I've heard of her.” “Everybody's heard of Mandi.” “Twenty-five thousand.” “Among other things.” Birgitta lifted one finger. “Twenty-five thousand and one.” The woman stared. “What?” “My rate.” There was a beat. Then the woman laughed. “You're kidding.” “No.” “Why the one?” “I wanted to be a little different.” The woman laughed harder. Excellent. That was exactly the reaction Birgitta wanted. Not because the joke was particularly good. Because people remembered stupidly specific things. Twenty-five thousand could blur into every other premium rate. Twenty-five thousand and one became a story. “Birgitta.” The voice came from behind her. Suzie. Birgitta turned. Suzie pointed toward a woman approaching from the other side of the club. “Potential.” The woman beside Birgitta immediately stepped away. No offense. No awkwardness. Just business. Birgitta looked toward the approaching client. Then back at Suzie. “You're throwing me in already?” “You asked to work.” “I did.” “Changed your mind?” Birgitta's smile became immediate. “No.” “Good.” Suzie walked away. Birgitta watched her go for half a second. Then turned. The potential client had reached her. Older than Birgitta had first thought. Elegant. Minimal visible chrome. A dark dress that probably cost more than several cars Reyes had destroyed. Her gaze traveled over Birgitta with unapologetic interest. Birgitta let her. Then smiled. “Hi.” The woman stopped. That smile again. Something changed in her expression. “Hello.” “I'm Birgitta.” “I know.” “Oh?” “Suzie told me.” “Efficient woman.” “She said you're new.” Birgitta sighed dramatically. “Apparently everybody knows.” The client smiled. “Does that bother you?” “No.” “Good.” She looked at Birgitta's dress. “You don't look like the others.” Birgitta glanced down at herself. “I'm wearing clothes.” The woman laughed. Across the room, somebody turned toward the sound. Birgitta didn't look. “That's not what I meant.” “I know.” “Why this?” The client gestured lightly toward the dress. Birgitta leaned closer. “Would you like to know a secret?” The woman mirrored the movement almost unconsciously. “Yes.” “The clothes lie.” A pause. Then the client's eyes dropped toward the dress again. This time differently. “Do they?” “Terribly.” “How?” Birgitta smiled. “You'd have to book me.” The woman's eyebrows rose. There. That felt good. Not merely because it worked. Because Birgitta had enjoyed doing it. She hadn't delivered a line she'd prepared. She'd played. And the woman had played back. “Rate?” “Twenty-five thousand and one.” The woman blinked. “And one.” “Yes.” “Why?” Birgitta smiled innocently. “Branding.” The woman laughed again. “Twenty-five thousand and one.” “Yes.” “For an hour?” “Yes.” “And you've never done this professionally before.” Birgitta's smile faltered by exactly the amount she wanted it to. “Suzie talks.” “I asked.” “Ah.” The woman stepped closer. “So why should I pay premium for somebody on her first night?” Good question. Birgitta could have sold herself. Instead she looked directly into the woman's eyes. “You shouldn't.” That wasn't the expected answer. The client stopped. Birgitta continued. “Not unless you want me.” Silence. “You have plenty of choices.” Birgitta glanced briefly toward the room. “Mandi is here.” The woman's gaze followed. “Nova and Vega.” Another glance. “Dalia. Deja.” Back to the client. “They know exactly what they're doing.” “And you?” Birgitta smiled. “I know what I want to find out.” The woman studied her. “What?” “Whether I'm as good at this as I think I am.” The client's smile returned slowly. “That is either very confident or very stupid.” “I was hoping for charming.” “Not yet.” “Damn.” The woman laughed. Then held out her hand. “Twenty-five thousand and one.” Birgitta looked at it. Her first actual booking. Something moved in her stomach. Not nerves. Not exactly. Excitement. She took the woman's hand. “Twenty-five thousand and one.” Payment transferred. Birgitta saw the confirmation. **25,001 €$** For one absurd second, the extra eddie made the entire thing real. She looked toward Suzie. Suzie was already watching. Birgitta raised one finger. Suzie stared. Then closed her eyes. Birgitta laughed. The client followed her gaze. “What was that?” “Professional disagreement.” “About?” “One eddie.” The woman shook her head. “I think I'm going to like you.” Birgitta looked back at her. “I certainly hope so.” They started toward the private rooms. And then Birgitta saw Mandi looking directly at her. Fuck. Not fear. Joy. Pure, dangerous joy. Mandi's black eyes tracked the new premium girl walking away with a client. Their gazes met. Birgitta smiled brightly. Mandi smiled back. No recognition. Nothing. Not even a flicker. Ace had looked directly into Reyes's eyes. And seen Birgitta. The sensation was almost intoxicating. Birgitta had to turn away before she enjoyed it too visibly. The client noticed. “Friend?” Birgitta nearly stumbled. “No.” That came too quickly. She corrected with a laugh. “I told you. First night.” “You were smiling at her.” “She smiled first.” “That matters?” “I like friendly people.” The client looked amused. “Do you.” “Yes.” They continued. Behind them, Mandi was still watching. --- “Who's that?” Mandi asked. Nova followed her gaze. “New.” “I gathered that.” Vega looked too. The copper-grey-haired woman was disappearing toward the private rooms with a client. “Pretty,” Vega said. Nova nodded. “Very.” Mandi glanced toward Suzie. “She yours?” Suzie gave her a flat look. “Everybody working here is mine when they're on my floor.” “You know what I mean.” “Birgitta.” Mandi repeated it. “Birgitta.” Nova tilted her head. “Scandinavian?” “Look.” Vega laughed. “That's not an answer.” “It's all you're getting.” Mandi watched the private-room door close. “She got booked fast.” “Very,” Nova said. Vega looked toward Suzie. “Rate?” Suzie stared at all three of them. “No.” Mandi's smile became dangerous. “Oh, come on.” “No.” “Twenty?” Suzie said nothing. “Thirty?” Nothing. “Fifty?” “Jesus Christ, Mandi.” “So less than fifty.” Nova laughed. Suzie looked toward the ceiling. “Twenty-five thousand and one.” Silence. Mandi slowly turned toward her. “What?” “Twenty-five thousand and one.” Vega blinked. Nova's mouth opened. Mandi stared. “One?” Suzie nodded. “Why the fuck one?” Suzie's expression became deeply tired. “She heard your rate.” Mandi froze. Then a grin spread across her face. “Oh, I like her.” Suzie pointed at her. “You have not even spoken to her.” “Doesn't matter.” Nova laughed. “She undercut you upward.” “By one eddie.” “Brutal.” Mandi put a hand against her chest. “I may never recover.” Vega looked toward the closed door. “First shift?” “Yes,” Suzie said. Mandi stared at her. “Wait.” Suzie immediately looked irritated. “You told them?” “They asked.” “No professional experience?” “No.” “And you put her at premium?” “I gave her a chance.” Mandi looked impressed. “That means she got through you.” Suzie stared. Mandi smiled sweetly. “I know you.” “Unfortunately.” Nova folded her arms. “Twenty-five thousand on her first shift.” “And one,” Vega corrected. “Sorry. Critical.” Mandi nodded gravely. “Never forget the one.” Suzie walked away. Mandi called after her. “I'm adding one to mine!” “No, you're fucking not!” Nova and Vega burst out laughing. Mandi looked delighted. “This is already a good night.” --- Birgitta didn't know any of that was happening. For once, she was glad. Because the private-room door had closed. And suddenly there was no audience. No Ace to fool. No Kiro to fool. No experiment to win. Just Birgitta and the woman who had paid twenty-five thousand and one eddies to find out whether Suzie's newest premium joytoy was worth it. The client looked at her. “So.” Birgitta smiled. “So.” “Nervous?” Birgitta considered lying. “No.” The woman raised an eyebrow. “Really?” “Excited.” “That I believe.” Birgitta laughed softly. The room was comfortable without being luxurious. Clean. Private. Designed for people rather than spectacle. Good. The woman moved closer. Birgitta didn't retreat. “What do you like?” the client asked. That question could have started a checklist. Birgitta didn't want one. “People who tell me what they enjoy.” The woman smiled. “Convenient answer.” “True answer.” “And what do you enjoy?” Birgitta met her eyes. “Finding out.” The client touched her waist. Slow enough to ask without words. Birgitta leaned into it. Answer given. The woman's other hand rose to Birgitta's cheek. Victor's mesh registered the warmth without getting in the way. Fingers moved over the unfamiliar face. No hesitation. No discovery. No moment where the client realized she was touching technology. Victor had been right. Birgitta smiled. “What?” the woman asked. “Nothing.” “That was definitely something.” “I was thinking my doctor is very good.” The client stared. Then laughed. “You're thinking about your ripperdoc right now?” “Not anymore.” “Good.” Birgitta kissed her. And that changed everything. Not because Reyes had never kissed a stranger. Not because this was professionally transgressive. Not because money had suddenly transformed intimacy into something mysterious. It was simpler. The client had chosen Birgitta. Not Reyes. Not Reyes's reputation. Not her relationship to Kiro or Ace or Mai or anyone else. This woman didn't know any of them. She wanted the bright woman with copper-grey hair who had made her laugh at the bar. Birgitta. The kiss deepened. Birgitta's hands found the woman's waist. The client pulled her closer. And somewhere in the middle of it, Reyes stopped monitoring Victor's voice. It stayed high. Bright. Natural. She stopped thinking about the mesh. It moved. She stopped thinking about posture. Birgitta's body found its own language. The client broke the kiss just enough to breathe. “Still excited?” Birgitta smiled against her mouth. “Very.” The woman's fingers found the hidden fastening on the dress. Paused. “May I?” Birgitta's smile became wicked. “Watch.” One movement. The expensive, conservative-looking dress surrendered. The client stared. Then laughed. “The clothes lie.” “I told you.” “Oh, I like that.” Birgitta stepped out of the released fabric. “I like being right.” The woman pulled her close again. This time there was no part of Reyes standing outside the moment and observing. Not for a while. --- Much later, Birgitta lay beside her client in the shared quiet after the room had finally stopped moving. Warm. Comfortable. Breathing slowly. The woman's fingertips traced lazily along Birgitta's arm. “Well.” Birgitta turned her head. “Well?” “Twenty-five thousand.” Birgitta raised one eyebrow. The client sighed. “And one.” “Thank you.” “Worth it.” Something in Birgitta's chest gave a small, ridiculous jump. Not because of the money. Because she meant it. The woman turned onto her side. “You really haven't done this before?” “Professionally?” “There you go again.” Birgitta smiled. “No.” “You're good.” “Thank you.” “Dangerously good at talking.” “I've heard that.” She stopped. That phrase. Too close. Reyes. The client didn't notice. Birgitta did. Interesting. Even after all that, the cracks were still there. Good. Something to learn. The woman sat up. “Will you be here again?” Birgitta hadn't thought that far ahead. This was supposed to be an experiment. One shift. A test. She looked at the woman. Then at the discarded dark dress. Then at the payment record still quietly existing in the system. Then inward, at the inconveniently simple fact that she'd enjoyed herself. A lot. “Yes.” The answer came before Reyes had finished considering it. The client smiled. “Good.” Birgitta smiled back. Apparently Birgitta had opinions about her own future. That was new. --- When she returned to the main floor, the first thing Birgitta noticed was Mandi. Still there. Still impossible to miss. The second was Nova. The third Vega. And the fourth— Deja. Back beside Dalia. Dalia still held the leash. Birgitta caught Deja looking toward her. Their eyes met. Kiro looked directly at Reyes. Nothing. Deja's gaze dropped briefly over Birgitta's dress, hair, posture. Professional evaluation. Then returned to her face. Birgitta smiled. Deja smiled politely back. No recognition. Reyes almost laughed. Dalia looked too. Mai. Nothing. Another polite glance at Suzie's new premium. Then away. Birgitta kept walking. Three meters. Two. One. Mandi intercepted her. Oh, fuck. “Birgitta?” Birgitta turned. Mandi stood in front of her. Up close. Ace. Her friend. Her lover. One of the people most likely to recognize something. Birgitta smiled brightly. “Mandi?” Mandi's grin appeared. “I hear you've been stealing my rate.” Birgitta put one hand against her chest. “Stealing?” “Twenty-five thousand.” Birgitta raised one finger. “And one.” Mandi stared at the finger. Then at Birgitta. “That one eddie is offensive.” “I wanted to be a little different.” Mandi burst out laughing. And that nearly broke Reyes. Not the face. Not the voice. The sheer absurdity. She was standing in front of Ace while Ace complained that Reyes had stolen Ace's joytoy cover's pricing. Birgitta laughed with her. Mandi looked delighted. “I like you.” “We've known each other thirty seconds.” “Twenty.” “Then you're impulsive.” “Very.” “Good.” Mandi offered her hand. “Welcome to Jig-Jig.” Birgitta looked at it. Then took it. “Thank you.” Mandi squeezed once and released. “How was the first booking?” Birgitta considered her answer. Then smiled. “Worth twenty-five thousand and one.” Mandi laughed again. “Cocky.” “Accurate.” “Oh, you're going to fit in.” Behind Mandi, Nova and Vega were approaching. Dalia was watching. Deja beside her. Five people. Five people who knew Reyes. And not one of them knew who was standing in front of them. Birgitta felt a grin trying to become too large. She controlled it. Barely. Mandi gestured toward the others. “Come on.” Birgitta's heart kicked once. “I'll introduce you.” Inside, Reyes thought: _This is the stupidest thing I've ever done._ Birgitta smiled. “I'd love that.” --- # CHAPTER 6 — INTRODUCTIONS Mandi didn't give Birgitta time to reconsider. “This is Nova.” The black-void eyes. “And Vega.” The white. Birgitta smiled at both women. “Hi.” Nova's gaze moved over her with the easy professional curiosity of one joytoy assessing another. Vega was less subtle. She looked Birgitta up and down. Then did it again. Birgitta laughed. “Should I turn around?” “Yes,” Vega said. Nova elbowed her. “What?” “You don't say yes.” “She offered.” Birgitta turned around. Vega looked delighted. Nova covered her face with one hand. Mandi laughed. “Oh, she's going to fit in just fine.” Birgitta completed the turn. “Well?” Vega considered her gravely. “Twenty-five thousand.” Birgitta raised one finger. “And one.” Vega nodded. “Right. Sorry. Twenty-five thousand and one.” “Thank you.” “Important.” “Very.” Nova lowered her hand. “Please don't encourage her.” “I've known her forty seconds.” “That's apparently enough.” Birgitta smiled at Nova. “I like your eyes.” Nova's black-void gaze somehow became even more direct. “Thanks.” Birgitta looked at Vega. “And yours.” Vega grinned. “See? She likes me better.” “I said exactly the same thing.” “Tone.” “There was no difference in tone.” “I heard one.” Mandi leaned toward Birgitta. “They're working partners.” “I gathered.” “Professionally dangerous.” “I gathered that too.” “And if they start arguing about which one you like better, run.” Nova looked offended. “We don't do that.” Vega looked at her. “Yes, we do.” Nova paused. “Okay, occasionally.” Birgitta laughed. This was absurd. Iris was standing directly in front of her. Brenda beside her. Both had seen Reyes in enough circumstances that the list had stopped being worth counting years ago. Neither showed the slightest recognition. Not a narrowing of the eyes. Not an extra second on the voice. Nothing. Instead Vega touched the fabric at Birgitta's sleeve. “Nice.” “Lena.” Both working partners looked at her. Nova's eyebrows rose. “Really?” “Yes.” Vega glanced toward Mandi. “She got Lena on her first shift.” Mandi nodded solemnly. “I am becoming increasingly offended.” “You're jealous,” Birgitta said. Mandi looked at her. “Of the one eddie.” “Obviously.” “It's a very powerful eddie.” “Terrifying.” Birgitta felt herself relaxing. That was dangerous. She knew these people too well. Conversation with them had rhythms. Shortcuts. Shared references. A thousand tiny habits built through familiarity. Birgitta couldn't use any of them. She had to meet them. For the first time. Which meant listening to stories she already knew. Laughing at jokes she'd heard before. Letting them explain things Reyes could have explained back. And somehow— that was fun too. “Dalia,” Mandi called. Birgitta's attention shifted. Dalia turned. Deja turned with her. Mai and Kiro. Birgitta felt the impulse to grin again. Controlled it. Dalia approached at an unhurried pace. Deja followed half a step behind and slightly to the side. The leash between them wasn't taut. It didn't need to be. Dalia's hand held it loosely. Deja simply stayed where Dalia had put her. Up close, the difference was even clearer. This wasn't their normal version of the game. Normally Deja's leash meant connection. Presentation. A visible line between them. Sometimes direction. Sometimes teasing. But Deja still made her own choices. Tonight— Dalia stopped. Deja stopped. Exactly where Dalia had decided. Mandi gestured. “Birgitta. Dalia.” Dalia smiled. “Welcome.” Birgitta returned it. “Thank you.” “And Deja.” Deja's graphite-brown cover hair framed a face Birgitta knew intimately in another identity. She smiled politely. “Hi.” Birgitta smiled back. “Hi.” Nothing. Absolutely nothing. Kiro was looking straight at Reyes. No recognition. This was becoming ridiculous. And wonderful. Deja glanced at Mandi. “Twenty-five thousand and one?” Mandi pointed accusingly at Birgitta. “See? It's spreading.” Birgitta looked innocent. “Good branding.” Deja laughed. Dalia's gaze remained on Birgitta a little longer. For one uncomfortable instant, Reyes wondered if Mai had seen something. Then Dalia looked at the dress. “Lena?” “Yes.” “Thought so.” That was all. Birgitta nearly wanted to kiss Victor. And Lena. Possibly both. “First booking already?” Dalia asked. “Yes.” “How was it?” Birgitta smiled. “Fun.” Dalia's eyebrows rose slightly. Not the answer she'd expected. “Just fun?” “Very fun.” Mandi laughed. “She came back smug.” “I did not.” “You absolutely did.” “You didn't know me before I left.” “Didn't need to.” Birgitta stared at her. Mandi smiled sweetly. Fuck. Ace was Ace even when she had no idea who she was talking to. Nova nodded. “She was smug.” Vega agreed. “Definitely.” “You two saw me for approximately six seconds.” “Enough.” Birgitta put a hand against her chest. “I feel attacked.” “Welcome to the profession,” Dalia said. Birgitta looked at her. That dry delivery— Mai. For half a second she almost answered in the familiar rhythm. Almost. Instead she smiled brightly. “Do I get hazard pay?” Dalia smiled. “Charge twenty-five thousand and two.” Mandi gasped. “Don't you fucking dare.” Everyone laughed. Even Deja. Then a man approached. Birgitta noticed him because Deja did. He wasn't looking at Birgitta. Or Mandi. Or the working partners. His attention was entirely on Deja. Tall. Expensive casual clothes. Subtle chrome at the throat. He slowed as he reached the group. “Deja?” Deja looked at him. “Hi.” One word. Then she stopped. Birgitta saw it. So did Dalia. The man smiled. “I've seen you here before.” Deja's expression suggested she might remember him too. Normally that would have been enough to begin a conversation. Tonight Deja looked at Dalia. The man noticed. His gaze followed. Dalia looked him over. Not hostile. Not jealous. Not possessive. Evaluating. “What do you want?” Dalia asked. The man adjusted immediately. “To talk to her.” Dalia glanced at Deja. Not asking. Simply looking. Deja waited. Birgitta felt a little thrill of understanding. There it was. The structure. Dalia looked back at the man. “No.” The answer was calm. Final. The man blinked. Deja didn't protest. Didn't explain. Didn't give him an apologetic smile. Dalia made a tiny movement with the leash. Deja stepped closer to her. The man understood. “All right.” No scene. No argument. He moved away. Birgitta watched him disappear into the crowd. Then looked at Deja. Deja was smiling. Not politely. Not professionally. Genuinely. Interesting. Mandi looked between them. “Still doing the thing?” Dalia glanced at her. “Yes.” Birgitta listened carefully. Vega grinned. “How far?” Deja opened her mouth. Dalia spoke first. “All the way.” Deja closed her mouth again. And smiled. Nova laughed. “Oh.” Mandi's eyebrows climbed. “Everything?” Dalia nodded. “Everything.” Birgitta kept her expression curious. Inside, Reyes leaned forward metaphorically with both elbows on the table. _Well, well, well._ Mandi looked at Deja. “You asked for this?” Deja looked at Dalia. Dalia considered. Then nodded once. Permission. “Yes,” Deja said. That single little exchange told Birgitta almost everything. Deja hadn't simply asked Dalia to lead more strongly. She had asked to stop deciding. At least for the agreed part of tonight. Mandi whistled softly. “You're brave.” Deja smiled. “I trust her.” Dalia's expression softened. Only for a second. Then the control returned. “Enough.” Deja immediately went quiet. Mandi's grin became enormous. “Oh, you are enjoying this.” Dalia looked at her. “Yes.” “Both of you.” “Yes.” Deja said nothing. She didn't need to. Her face answered for her. Birgitta smiled. Dalia's eyes shifted toward her. “Something funny?” Danger. Reyes knew exactly how Mai asked that question. Birgitta didn't. She let her smile remain open. “I'm deciding whether I should be impressed or terrified.” Deja laughed. Dalia's mouth curved. “Both works.” “Good.” Birgitta looked at Deja. “Do you normally do this?” Deja started to answer. Stopped. Looked at Dalia. Again. That was almost enough to make Reyes lose it. Dalia answered for her. “No.” Birgitta tilted her head. “The leash?” “Normal enough.” “The rest?” “No.” Deja's smile grew. Birgitta looked between them. “Her idea?” Dalia's eyes flicked to Deja. Then back. “Yes.” Birgitta nodded slowly. “Interesting.” Deja watched her. “Why?” The question escaped before she checked with Dalia. Birgitta saw the realization hit. So did Dalia. Dalia didn't correct her. Apparently this one was allowed to stand. Birgitta smiled. “Because you look happy.” Deja's expression softened. “I am.” Dalia touched the leash lightly with one finger. Deja's attention immediately returned to her. And there was something intimate in that tiny movement that had nothing to do with sex. Trust. Chosen structure. Relief, perhaps. Reyes understood Kiro well enough to see it. Birgitta wasn't supposed to. So Birgitta just smiled. “I hope you have fun.” Dalia looked amused. “Oh, she will.” Deja's eyes widened slightly. Mandi burst out laughing. Nova covered her mouth. Vega didn't bother. Birgitta laughed with them. Deja looked at Dalia. Dalia looked back. No rescue. Of course not. Deja had specifically asked her not to provide one. Then another potential client approached. This time a woman. Her attention moved between Dalia and Deja. “Working?” Dalia answered. “Yes.” The woman smiled at Deja. Deja waited. Dalia looked at the woman. Longer this time. “What are you looking for?” The woman explained. Birgitta deliberately turned part of her attention elsewhere. Not because she wasn't curious. Because standing there listening too intently would be strange for someone who had just met them. Mandi leaned closer to Birgitta. “First night and you're already studying everybody.” Birgitta smiled. “I'm curious.” “That can get expensive here.” “I charge enough.” “Plus one.” “Plus one.” Mandi nodded. “Still hate you.” “No, you don't.” Mandi froze. Birgitta froze internally. Too familiar. Fuck. Then Mandi grinned. “No, I don't.” Safe. Birgitta smiled. Careful. Very careful. Across from them, the potential client finished explaining. Dalia looked at Deja. Deja's face was neutral. Birgitta knew that face. Kiro wasn't particularly interested. Not opposed. Just— not someone she would have chosen herself. Dalia knew it too. Of course she did. Dalia turned back to the woman. “Twenty-five minutes.” Deja's eyes flicked to her. Tiny. Very tiny. Then she smiled. “Okay.” The client looked surprised. “So—” Dalia handed her the leash. Birgitta nearly choked. Not because it was shocking. Because Kiro's expression was magnificent. Just for a fraction of a second. Then Deja accepted the decision completely. Dalia leaned close enough to say something quietly in her ear. Birgitta couldn't hear it. Deja nodded. The woman took the leash. Deja went with her. No argument. No last-second negotiation. No attempt to reshape Dalia's choice into one she would have made herself. Exactly what she'd asked for. Birgitta watched them disappear. Then looked at Dalia. Dalia was already watching her. “Still deciding between impressed and terrified?” Birgitta laughed. “Impressed.” “Good answer.” Mandi leaned between them. “Terrified would've been funnier.” “I'm new. I'm trying to make friends.” Nova smiled. “At twenty-five thousand and one an hour?” “Friendship discount.” Vega brightened. “How much?” “Twenty-five thousand.” Mandi pointed at her. “Bitch.” Birgitta laughed so hard she had to look away. This was becoming dangerous for entirely different reasons. Not because anyone was recognizing Reyes. Because she was having too much fun. A Mox runner approached Suzie near the bar. Suzie listened. Looked toward Birgitta. Then pointed at her. The runner crossed the floor. “Birgitta?” “Yes?” “Someone asking about you.” Birgitta blinked. “Already?” Mandi smiled. “Ten minutes.” Birgitta looked at her. “What?” “New-girl effect.” Nova nodded. “Enjoy it.” Vega added, “Milk it.” Birgitta looked toward the waiting client. Then back at them. “What if I'm just irresistible?” Mandi groaned. “Oh, she's getting worse.” Dalia smiled. “Go earn your one eddie.” Birgitta laughed. “Yes, ma'am.” She turned away. Took three steps. Then realized what she'd just said to Mai. She kept walking. Do not turn around. Do not laugh. Do not fucking turn around. Behind her, Mandi said: “I like her.” Dalia replied: “So do I.” Birgitta's smile nearly split her face. This was supposed to be a cover test. Somewhere along the way, it had become the most entertaining evening Reyes had experienced in a very long time. And she was only one booking in. --- # CHAPTER 7 — SECOND The man waiting for Birgitta wasn't what she expected. That was the first thing she liked about him. He stood a little apart from the main flow of Jig-Jig, close enough to be part of it but positioned so nobody had to move around him. Tall. Broad through the shoulders. Well dressed without looking as though he'd dressed specifically for tonight. Visible chrome began behind his left ear and followed the line of his neck beneath his collar. He was watching Birgitta approach. And he looked nervous as hell. Not frightened. Not uncertain about being here. Nervous about her. Birgitta smiled. His shoulders tightened. Oh. This could be fun. “Hi.” “Hi.” She stopped in front of him. He seemed to realize he should say something else. Didn't. Birgitta waited. Still nothing. “Usually,” she said, “this is where you tell me your name.” His eyes widened. Then he laughed. “Tomas.” “There we go.” “Sorry.” “Birgitta.” “I know.” “Apparently everybody does.” That got another laugh. Small, but easier. Birgitta offered her hand. Tomas took it. And held it as though Victor had constructed her from very expensive glass. Birgitta looked down at their hands. Then back at him. “Tomas.” “Yes?” “You can hold my hand.” “I am.” “You're preserving it.” He looked down too. “Oh.” His grip changed. Still careful. But human now. Birgitta smiled. “Better.” “Sorry.” “That's two.” “Two what?” “Apologies.” He blinked. “Are you counting?” “I wasn't planning to.” That made him laugh again. Good. Birgitta liked his laugh. More importantly, she liked what happened to him immediately afterward. Every time he laughed, the tension went away for a few seconds. Then his brain apparently remembered it had been nervous and put it back. Interesting problem. She could work with that. Behind him, Jig-Jig continued without them. Someone called Mandi's name. Birgitta's attention almost moved automatically. She stopped it. Tomas was standing in front of her. He had approached her. Right now he mattered more. “What are you looking for?” she asked. His eyes dropped briefly. “I'm not sure.” “That's allowed.” “I thought I'd know when I got here.” “Did you?” “No.” “Also allowed.” He looked at her. “You're very relaxed about this.” Birgitta smiled. “One of us should be.” He laughed again. There. Another few seconds. “What made you pick me?” Tomas looked surprised by the question. “Honestly?” “Preferably.” “You smiled at someone.” Birgitta waited. “That was it?” “Not exactly.” He glanced toward the floor behind her. “There are a lot of people here who look…” He searched for the word. “Confident?” “Professional.” Birgitta smiled. “Dangerous?” “That too.” “Good dangerous?” “I haven't decided.” “Fair.” Tomas looked at her again. “You looked like you were having fun.” That landed. Birgitta's smile changed without her intending it to. “I am.” “That's why.” Simple. No fascination with the new girl. No interest in the rate. He had seen her enjoying herself. And chosen that. Birgitta liked the answer more than she expected. “Well,” she said, “excellent judgment.” Tomas smiled. “You're modest too.” “Very.” A pause. Then he asked: “How new are you?” Birgitta sighed. “Oh, no.” “What?” “Did Suzie tell you?” “No.” “Good.” “I heard someone talking.” “Less good.” “This is your first night?” “Yes.” His eyebrows rose. “First client?” “Second.” That stopped him. “I'm your second?” “Yes.” “Ever?” “Professionally.” The qualification made him smile. “That's oddly specific.” “Accuracy matters.” He looked toward the private rooms. Then back. “Nervous?” “No.” He studied her. “Really?” Birgitta thought about it. The first booking had carried nerves. Not much, but enough. This one didn't. “No.” “What are you?” She smiled. “Curious.” That seemed to make sense to him. He nodded. Then Birgitta saw his attention drift. Not away from her. Inward. Something was still holding him back. “You don't have to book me.” He looked up quickly. “I know.” “Do you?” “Yes.” “Good.” She didn't push. Didn't fill the silence. For once, Birgitta borrowed something from Reyes deliberately. Patience. Tomas eventually spoke. “I haven't done this before.” “A joytoy?” He nodded. “All right.” “That's it?” “What else should I say?” “I don't know.” “Neither do I.” He laughed. Birgitta squeezed his hand once. “You don't have to know how this works before you've done it.” “I don't want to waste your time.” “It's my time.” “Expensive time.” Ah. There it was. Birgitta smiled. “You heard the rate.” “Everybody heard the rate.” “Oh, for fuck's sake.” Tomas laughed. “Twenty-five thousand and one.” “Yes.” “Why the one?” She looked toward the ceiling. “I'm beginning to regret this.” “No, you're not.” Birgitta looked at him. That had been unexpectedly perceptive. “No,” she admitted. “Why?” “I heard another premium charges twenty-five.” “Mandi.” “Yes.” “And you decided—” “To be a little different.” Tomas stared at her. “One eddie.” “One very important eddie.” He laughed again. This time the tension didn't return immediately. Progress. “So,” Birgitta said. “What would make tonight good?” Tomas thought. “Can we just talk first?” “Yes.” He looked surprised again. “You don't mind?” “Why would I?” “I don't know.” Birgitta stepped a little closer. Not enough to crowd him. Enough to make the conversation more private. “You're paying for my time, Tomas. Not for a mandatory sequence of events.” He nodded. “If we talk for an hour?” “Then you've had a very expensive conversation.” “And if nothing else happens?” “Then nothing else happens.” He watched her face. Victor's face. Birgitta's expression. Whatever he was looking for, apparently he found it. “All right.” Birgitta smiled. “All right.” His hand was still in hers. He looked down at it. Then back at her. “Twenty-five thousand and one.” “Twenty-five thousand and one.” Payment transferred. Birgitta's optics quietly confirmed it. Her second booking. This time the number didn't make the work real. Tomas did. “Come on,” she said. --- They passed Mandi on the way to the rooms. Mandi was no longer standing with Nova and Vega. She was working. A client had one hand at her waist, and Mandi was speaking close to his ear, her neon-orange hair bright against his dark jacket. Birgitta saw only a few seconds. Enough. The man said something. Mandi's smile sharpened. She caught his hand, turned beneath his arm with effortless playfulness and started walking backward toward the rooms while pulling him with her. He followed immediately. Mandi glanced sideways. Saw Birgitta. Saw Tomas. Her black eyes dropped briefly to their joined hands. Then back to Birgitta. One eyebrow rose. Birgitta smiled. Mandi raised one finger. Birgitta nearly lost it. The fucking eddie. She raised one back. Mandi grinned. Then turned her full attention to her own client and disappeared through another door. Tomas looked at Birgitta. “What was that?” “Professional rivalry.” “You've worked here for an hour.” “Apparently that's enough.” He smiled. A little farther on, Nova and Vega stood with a couple. The conversation was already well past introduction. Vega was smiling at one woman. Nova was talking to the other. Then the four of them shifted together, naturally, without any obvious negotiation left to finish. Nova caught Vega's hand. The first client caught Nova's. The second slid an arm around Vega. Four people moving toward another room. Birgitta watched for half a second longer than necessary. Not because Iris and Brenda were underneath those covers. Because Nova and Vega were good. There was no visible seam between social contact and booking. No moment where they appeared to switch from _talking_ to _working_. They simply carried the clients with them. Birgitta filed that away. Then Tomas squeezed her hand. “You're studying them.” Birgitta looked at him. “I'm new.” “Fair.” “Also curious.” “You said.” “I say a lot of things.” “I noticed.” They reached their room. Birgitta opened the door. Tomas hesitated at the threshold. Not enough to stop. Enough for her to notice. She didn't pull him through. She went inside. Then turned. His choice. Tomas followed. The door closed. --- The room became quiet. Not silent. Night City never quite managed silence. But private enough. Tomas stood just inside. Birgitta released his hand. That surprised him. She saw it. “Sit wherever you want.” He chose the edge of the bed. Birgitta took the chair opposite him. That surprised him more. “You're sitting over there?” “You wanted to talk.” “Yes.” “So talk.” Tomas stared. Then smiled. “You're not what I expected.” “You've said that without actually saying it about four times.” “Have I?” “Yes.” “What did I expect?” Birgitta crossed one leg over the other. “You tell me.” He considered. “Someone more…” He looked at the dark dress. “Obvious.” Birgitta laughed. “The clothes lie.” “What?” “Nothing.” “No, what does that mean?” She smiled. “Something my tailor said.” Tomas looked at the dress again. “It doesn't look like joytoy clothing.” “That's the idea.” “Why?” “Because I don't need it to introduce me.” That came out more confidently than she'd intended. Tomas looked back at her. “Okay.” “What?” “That I believe.” Birgitta smiled. They talked. At first about nothing. That was what Tomas needed. Where he'd come from. Why he was in Night City. A job he didn't particularly love but was apparently very good at. A previous relationship that had ended without enough drama to make a good story and with enough sadness to make it matter. Birgitta gave him pieces in return. Carefully selected. Nothing that belonged specifically to Reyes. Nothing that required elaborate lies. Birgitta liked good food. True. Birgitta liked women. True. Men. True. Birgitta liked people who could make her laugh. Very true. She liked trying things once before deciding whether she disliked them. That one surprised Reyes slightly. But it felt true too. Tomas became easier as the conversation continued. His posture changed. Hands stopped clasping together. He leaned back. Eventually he took off his jacket. Birgitta smiled. “Progress.” He looked down at himself. “What?” “You've stopped preparing to flee.” “I wasn't.” “You kept your jacket on.” “That doesn't mean anything.” “You're indoors.” Tomas laughed. “Fine.” He put the jacket beside him. “Happy?” “Immensely.” Another ten minutes. Then he asked: “Can I sit closer?” Birgitta looked at the empty space beside him. “Yes.” He frowned. “You're over there.” “Oh.” She stood. Walked over. Sat beside him. Not touching. Tomas looked at her. “Better?” “Yes.” “Good.” They sat. Close enough now that their knees nearly touched. Tomas looked at her hands. Then her face. “Can I kiss you?” “Yes.” No performance. No teasing. Just yes. He leaned closer. Stopped a few centimeters away. Birgitta could feel his breath. He was still thinking. She smiled. “Tomas.” “Yeah?” “You already asked.” That did it. He kissed her. Careful. Of course. The museum again. Birgitta let him. For several seconds. Then she kissed him back. Not harder. More clearly. One hand rose to his shoulder. His body loosened under it. The next kiss lasted longer. His hand found her waist. Paused. Birgitta leaned toward him. Permission without interruption. His fingers settled. Warm through the dress. They kissed again. And this time Tomas forgot to be careful. Not reckless. Not rough. Just present. Better. Birgitta's hand moved from his shoulder to the back of his neck. His chrome was warm where it met skin. He made a quiet sound against her mouth. Birgitta liked that. A lot. When they separated, Tomas was smiling. “So.” Birgitta smiled back. “So.” “I think I want more than conversation.” “Good.” He laughed. “Good?” “Yes.” “You're supposed to be professional.” “I am professionally pleased.” “That sounds fake.” “It was terrible.” “Very.” Birgitta kissed him again. This time she shifted closer first. Their knees touched. Then thighs. Tomas's hand moved around her waist. The other came to her cheek. His fingertips passed over Victor's mesh. No hesitation. No difference. He simply touched Birgitta. Reyes noticed. Birgitta didn't care. That distinction was getting easier. Tomas broke the kiss. “Can I ask something?” “You just did.” He stared. Birgitta grinned. “Sorry.” “No, you're not.” “Not even slightly.” He laughed. Then touched the dress. “This.” “Yes?” “You said the clothes lie.” Birgitta's smile changed. “Oh.” “What?” “Now you're curious.” “Yes.” She stood. Tomas watched. Birgitta stepped between his knees. Not touching him yet. His eyes followed her. She reached for the concealed fastening. “Watch.” One movement. The dress released. Not dramatically. Efficiently. Fabric loosened and surrendered its careful shape. Tomas stared. Birgitta let it fall away. His expression made Lena's triple fee worth every eddie. “Okay.” Birgitta laughed. “The clothes lie.” “Yes.” “Terribly.” “Yes.” Tomas reached for her. Stopped. Birgitta took his hand. Placed it at her waist. There. His fingers tightened. He pulled her closer. She went willingly. The next kiss had none of the first one's uncertainty. Birgitta leaned into him. Tomas's hands moved along her back. Hers found the buttons of his shirt. She opened one. Then another. Paused. Looked at him. He nodded. She continued. Not because she needed permission for every button. Because she liked the moment. Liked seeing his choice. Liked answering it with hers. His shirt joined her dress. Birgitta pushed gently at his shoulder. Tomas moved farther onto the bed. She followed. For a while there was no need to talk. Touch became easier than conversation had been. His hands stopped asking whether every movement was allowed because he had learned to read her answers. Birgitta stopped consciously demonstrating them because she trusted him to notice. When something changed, she guided him. When she wanted more, she moved closer. When Tomas hesitated again, she kissed him until the hesitation became a smile. Clothes gradually stopped mattering. So did the fact that twenty-five thousand and one eddies had changed hands outside. The booking remained a booking. But the pleasure inside it was real. That mattered to Birgitta. More than she'd expected. Eventually Tomas drew back enough to look at her. “Still curious?” Birgitta's breathing had changed. So had his. She smiled. “Very.” He touched her cheek. Birgitta turned her face into his palm for a moment. Then kissed it. Tomas's expression softened. Not lust disappearing. Something joining it. Trust, perhaps. That made Birgitta want him more, not less. She drew him down with her. They chose the next step together without hurry, the last of Tomas's uncertainty disappearing when Birgitta made her own desire unmistakable. After that, the room narrowed. Warm skin. Hands finding places that drew involuntary reactions. Kisses interrupted by laughter and resumed before either of them had quite finished. Tomas stopped treating Birgitta as something fragile. Birgitta stopped wondering whether she was supposed to feel like a professional. She felt wanted. She felt good. And she wanted him too. That was enough. Their rhythm took time to find. Birgitta liked that as well. Nothing rehearsed. Nothing optimized. When Tomas lost it for a moment and laughed into her shoulder, she laughed with him, pulled him back, and they found it again. The pleasure built gradually. Not spectacularly. Honestly. Birgitta's bright voice sounded different when she stopped using it for conversation. Victor had done very good work. The thought appeared once. Then vanished completely. Later, Tomas's name came out of her mouth without calculation. His answer was her name. Birgitta. Not Reyes. Birgitta. Something about that pushed unexpectedly deep. She held him closer. The final rise came without either of them needing to turn it into a performance. Tomas went still against her for one suspended moment. Birgitta felt her own release follow close behind, sharp enough to empty her mind and leave only warmth, pressure and the instinctive grip of her hands against him. Then neither of them moved. For several breaths. Exactly as they were. No hurry to separate. No immediate joke. Just the shared stillness after. Birgitta closed her eyes. Tomas's forehead rested against hers. Eventually he whispered: “Okay.” Birgitta started laughing. His eyes opened. “What?” “That's your review?” He laughed too. “I need a minute.” “Premium service.” “Shut up.” She kissed him. Softly this time. Then they settled beside each other. Tomas's hand remained on her waist. Birgitta lay facing him. Neither seemed interested in checking the time yet. That pleased her. After a while, Tomas traced one finger lightly along her shoulder. “You really like this.” Birgitta looked at him. It wasn't a question. “Yes.” “You knew?” Before tonight? “No.” That answer surprised him. Birgitta considered it herself. “I hoped.” “Different.” “Yes.” Tomas smiled. “Good.” “Why?” “Because if you'd said you knew, I wouldn't have believed you.” Birgitta laughed softly. “Fair.” He moved a little closer. She let him. For several more minutes, nothing happened. Nothing needed to. That was part of the booking too. Birgitta was beginning to understand that. --- When they finally dressed, Tomas buttoned his shirt while watching Birgitta restore the dark dress. The transformation amused him. “You look respectable again.” “I was respectable the entire time.” “Absolutely.” “Rude.” “The clothes lie.” Birgitta smiled. “Now you understand.” At the door, Tomas stopped. The nervousness hadn't returned. Good. “Will you be here again?” There it was. Again. Her first client had asked the same thing. Birgitta leaned against the doorframe. “Yes.” No hesitation this time. Tomas smiled. “Good.” She opened the door. Noise returned. Jig-Jig swallowed them again. They walked back together. And Birgitta saw immediately that things had moved while she'd been gone. Of course they had. Mandi was returning from her own room with the man Birgitta had seen earlier. Her neon-orange hair was slightly less perfect than before. The client's collar was definitely less perfect. Both looked extremely satisfied with the arrangement. Mandi said something to him. He laughed. She caught the front of his jacket, pulled him down for one last long kiss, then released him with a pat against his chest. He walked away smiling. Mandi watched him go. Then noticed Birgitta. Her eyes dropped to Tomas. Then back to Birgitta. Two fingers. Birgitta stared. Mandi raised them again. **Two.** Birgitta laughed. Raised one finger. Mandi frowned. Then understood. The eddie. “Fuck you,” Mandi called. Tomas looked between them. “You two are going to be friends.” Birgitta smiled. “I think she's adorable.” Mandi heard that. “I HEARD THAT.” Birgitta laughed harder. Tomas squeezed her hand once. Then released it. “Thanks.” Birgitta's laughter softened. “Thank you.” He left. Birgitta watched until he disappeared into the crowd. Only then did she turn. Mandi was walking toward her. Behind Mandi, Nova and Vega had also returned. The couple from earlier remained with them for another moment. Vega was laughing at something one of the women had said. Nova stood close to the other, one hand resting comfortably at her hip. The goodbye wasn't hurried. One client kissed Vega. The other kissed Nova. Then, after a glance between all four, they switched. Birgitta's eyebrows rose. Vega noticed. Smiled directly at her. Then kissed the other woman just a little longer. Show-off. Birgitta laughed. The clients finally left together. Nova watched them go. Vega leaned against her working partner. Both looked pleasantly loose around the edges. Not wrecked. Not performing aftermath. Simply satisfied. Coworkers returning from work. Birgitta liked seeing that. Then Dalia came into view. Still holding Deja's leash. Still alone with her. Which meant Deja's next booking hadn't been chosen yet. Good. The evening hadn't jumped forward while Birgitta was behind a closed door. It had merely continued. Mandi reached her. “Two.” Birgitta smiled. “Two.” “Good?” Birgitta thought of Tomas saying _okay_ like a man whose vocabulary had temporarily abandoned him. Her smile became warmer. “Yes.” Mandi saw it. Something professional entered her expression again. Not suspicion. Assessment. “Very good?” Birgitta looked at her. “Very.” Mandi nodded. No joke this time. Just acknowledgement. Then Vega arrived. “Are we counting?” “No,” Birgitta said. “Yes,” Mandi said simultaneously. Nova joined them. “We're counting.” Birgitta sighed. “I hate all of you.” Mandi grinned. “You've known us for an hour.” Birgitta caught herself before answering _longer than that_. Instead she smiled brightly. “Longest hour of my life.” They laughed. Reyes laughed with them. And for once she didn't immediately look toward the next potential client. There would be another. Probably. Later. Right now she wanted to stand here. Listen. Watch. Be Birgitta among people who had no idea they already loved the woman underneath. And enjoy the impossible, ridiculous privilege of meeting them all over again. --- # CHAPTER 8 — COLLEAGUES Mandi stopped directly in front of Birgitta. “Two.” Birgitta looked at her. “Still two.” “Just checking.” “You checked twelve seconds ago.” “Things happen quickly around here.” Birgitta smiled. “Apparently.” Mandi's black eyes narrowed. There was no recognition in them. None. Only professional curiosity and the beginnings of amusement toward Suzie's strange new premium girl who had arrived out of nowhere, charged one eddie more than Mandi, and already returned from her second booking looking thoroughly pleased with herself. Birgitta found that almost unbearably funny. Almost. She kept it inside. Nova and Vega joined them. The Marlow duo had finished their own pair booking shortly before Birgitta and Tomas came back. It showed. Not obscenely. Not enough that anyone walking past would have known exactly what had happened behind the door. But Birgitta knew Iris and Brenda. She knew them extremely well. And she knew what good sex did to both of them. Nova had that particular relaxed softness around her shoulders that Iris never quite managed to fake. Vega looked bright, loose, and entirely too pleased with the universe. Brenda. Absolutely Brenda. The covers remained perfect. Two working partners standing together after work. Vega's arm went comfortably across Nova's shoulders for a moment. Nova caught her wrist. “Don't mess up my hair.” “I wasn't.” “You were about to.” “I was being affectionate.” “You were being a menace.” Vega smiled. “Friendly affection.” “Your friendly affection is expensive.” Birgitta laughed. Nova looked at her. “What?” “Nothing.” “That wasn't nothing.” Birgitta smiled brightly. “I was admiring the coordinated styling.” Vega immediately leaned closer to Nova. “See?” Nova sighed. “Don't encourage her.” Birgitta knew exactly how much work sat underneath the joke. Victor's meshes gave Nova and Vega two distinct cover faces. Lena's styling made the working duo unmistakable. Lena had done the rest. Hair. Eyes. Styling. Visual echoes without making them copies. But technology wasn't what made the cover convincing now. Behavior did. Vega could throw an arm around Nova. Nova could complain. They could stand hip to hip, steal space from each other, interrupt each other, tease each other, touch casually. All perfectly natural. All completely non-romantic. And Reyes knew that if the same two women had been standing in the safehouse as Iris and Brenda, the physical language between them would have been very different. Birgitta didn't have to discover that. Reyes already knew. That was what made watching them so fascinating. She was seeing two people she knew intimately maintain an entirely different public relationship from less than a meter away. And they had no idea who was watching. Vega looked at Birgitta's face. “You're doing it again.” “Doing what?” “Looking like you know something.” Fuck. Birgitta smiled wider. “I know lots of things.” “About us?” “Almost nothing.” True. About Nova and Vega. Not Iris and Brenda. Vega accepted the answer. Nova did too. Birgitta mentally awarded herself one point. Mandi pointed at her. “That.” “What?” “That thing you just did.” Birgitta blinked. “What thing?” Mandi looked at Nova. “She does that.” Nova nodded. “She does.” Birgitta looked between them. “I have absolutely no idea what you're talking about.” “You look innocent immediately after saying something that probably wasn't.” Birgitta stared at Mandi. Ace. Her friend. Her lover. Ace had watched Reyes lie to armed people. Watched her bluff. Watched her conceal pain. Watched her say _fine_ while very obviously not fine. And right now Mandi was looking directly into a completely different face and noticing a behavioral pattern— —but assigning it to Birgitta. Not Reyes. Birgitta felt a tiny electric thrill run through her. Dangerous. Fun. She stepped closer to Mandi. “Maybe I'm just naturally innocent.” Mandi looked her slowly up and down. Almost conservative black dress. Muted copper-grey hair. Very light brown eyes. Scandinavian face. Then back up. “No.” Birgitta laughed. “Rude.” “Professional assessment.” “You've never seen me work.” Mandi's eyebrow rose. “I saw you leave.” “That isn't work.” “I saw you come back.” Birgitta paused. Nova smiled. Vega made a quiet _ooh._ Mandi folded her arms. “Professional assessment.” Birgitta looked at her. Then deliberately smiled. Slowly. “Maybe Tomas was just very talented.” Mandi's grin appeared immediately. “There she is.” “There who is?” “The woman charging one eddie too much.” “One eddie more than you.” “Currently.” Birgitta's eyes narrowed. “You wouldn't.” “Twenty-five thousand and two.” “You bitch.” Mandi laughed. Birgitta laughed with her. And the absurdity of it almost broke her. Ace was threatening to raise Mandi's rate by two eddies because Reyes had secretly created a joytoy cover charging one eddie more than her. There were situations in Night City that could not have been planned. This deserved to remain one of them. --- Dalia and Deja were still nearby. Birgitta had been aware of them throughout the conversation. Mostly because the leash made Deja's position immediately readable. It remained loose. Dalia wasn't dragging her anywhere. Didn't need to. Deja stayed where Dalia wanted her because that was what Deja had chosen for tonight. Birgitta watched Dalia shift the leash from one hand to the other. Deja noticed instantly. Tiny movement of her eyes. Nothing else. Dalia caught Birgitta looking. “You're interested.” Birgitta didn't pretend otherwise. “Yes.” Deja looked at her. “In the leash?” “In what it does.” That earned her a longer look. Dalia asked: “And what do you think it does?” Birgitta considered how Reyes would answer. Then deliberately didn't. Birgitta smiled. “Makes her pay attention to your hand.” Deja laughed. Dalia's mouth twitched. “Not wrong.” Mandi turned. “She was studying us earlier.” “I am surrounded by professionals.” “Flattery.” “Observation.” Nova said, “Same thing when done correctly.” Vega nodded. “Write that down.” Nobody wrote anything down. Deja shifted slightly. Dalia's hand moved. Barely. Deja stopped. Birgitta saw it. So did Mandi. Mandi smiled. Deja looked at her. “Don't.” “I didn't say anything.” “You were going to.” “I was thinking.” “Worse.” Dalia gave the leash one small tug. Deja stepped closer to her. No hesitation. Dalia looked down at her. “You're spending a lot of effort worrying about Mandi.” “Yes.” “Why?” “Survival instinct.” Mandi put a hand against her chest. “I'm lovely.” Five women looked at her. Mandi stared back. “Fuck all of you.” Birgitta laughed hardest. She couldn't help it. The bright voice Victor had built for her carried differently when she genuinely laughed. Higher. Lighter. Nothing like Reyes. Mandi heard it. Mai heard it. Kiro heard it. Iris and Brenda heard it. Nobody reacted. Perfect. --- A client approached Mandi. Birgitta saw the transition happen. Not because Mandi suddenly became someone else. Because her attention changed. One moment she was standing with them, threatening economic warfare over a single eddie. The next, a woman had stopped nearby and caught her eye. Mandi looked at her. Really looked. The rest of the group ceased to matter. “Hi,” the woman said. Mandi smiled. “Hi.” Simple. No exaggerated joytoy voice. No immediate performance. The woman was perhaps forty, with one silver cyberarm visible beneath a sleeveless jacket and tiny points of light moving beneath the skin at her throat. Night City jewelry that wasn't jewelry. She glanced briefly at Birgitta and the others. Then back to Mandi. “Working?” “For you?” Mandi let the question hang just long enough. “Maybe.” The woman's smile widened. Birgitta watched. Mandi had been approached. Yet within two sentences the social direction had reversed. Now the client was waiting to see whether Mandi wanted _her_. Interesting. “What are you looking for?” Mandi asked. The woman moved a little closer. “An hour.” “That tells me how long.” Mandi's smile remained easy. “Not what you want.” The woman laughed. “Direct.” “You came to Jig-Jig.” “Fair.” They spoke more quietly. Birgitta couldn't hear everything. She didn't try. That wasn't the lesson. The lesson was Mandi's attention. Complete without becoming intense. Flirtatious without promising anything yet. Mandi touched the woman's cyberarm once. Fingertips. Brief. The woman looked down at the contact. Then back up. There. Birgitta saw the moment the booking became likely. Not confirmed. Likely. Mandi said something else. The woman answered. Mandi smiled. Payment transferred. Then Mandi caught the woman's hand. Before leaving, she looked back at Birgitta. Held up two fingers. Birgitta stared at her. Mandi added one. Three. Birgitta's mouth fell open. “You—” Mandi laughed and disappeared toward the rooms with her client. Vega leaned toward Birgitta. “She means bookings.” “I know what she means.” “She has three.” “I KNOW.” Nova smiled. “Competition.” “It is not a competition.” Vega looked at her. “That's what people losing competitions say.” Birgitta turned toward her. “I've been working for approximately five minutes.” “Excuses.” “You're horrible.” “Thank you.” Nova caught Vega lightly by the upper arm. “Stop tormenting the new girl.” “I like her.” “I noticed.” Again. Working partners. Easy. Natural. Vega leaned her head briefly against Nova's shoulder. Nova tolerated it for approximately two seconds before nudging her upright. Birgitta smiled. No leakage. Not even knowing the truth made the public read ambiguous. Good cover. Very good cover. --- A few minutes later Nova was approached. This time Birgitta deliberately didn't stare. She positioned herself so the conversation remained at the edge of her vision. Mandi's advice from earlier hadn't been wrong. Watch without making people feel watched. Nova's prospective client was a man in an expensive charcoal coat. Older. Very little visible chrome. He spoke softly. Nova listened. Vega stayed nearby but didn't insert herself. That mattered. Nova and Vega could work together. They could also work separately. Neither existed merely as half of a package. The man said something. Nova smiled. Asked a question. He answered. Another. Then Nova touched his forearm. Not seductively enough to become spectacle. Enough to establish contact. He relaxed. Birgitta noticed. Interesting. The same basic tool Mandi had used. Completely different execution. Mandi's touch had carried invitation. Nova's carried reassurance. The man moved closer. Vega glanced at Nova. Nova gave her the smallest nod. One working partner to the other. _I'm going._ Vega answered with a tiny salute. _Have fun._ No romantic subtext. No hidden Brenda/Iris behavior allowed through. Just the Marlow duo managing their work. Nova left with him. Vega watched them go. Then turned back to Birgitta. “She's good.” Birgitta smiled. “Yes.” “You sound surprised.” “No.” That answer came too quickly. Vega looked at her. Birgitta corrected smoothly. “She looks like someone who knows exactly what she's doing.” Vega accepted that. “Yeah.” Pride. Professional pride on the surface. Real pride underneath. Both could be true without breaking anything. Birgitta liked that. “You work separately often?” “Sure.” “And together.” “Sure.” “Preference?” Vega shrugged. “Depends on the client.” Good answer. Professional answer. No unnecessary exposition. Birgitta nodded. Vega studied her. “You ask a lot of questions.” “First night.” “You're really new?” “Yes.” “Like actually?” Birgitta laughed. “Yes.” Vega looked toward the rooms Tomas had left from. Then back. “And?” There were several ways to answer. Birgitta chose the simplest. “I fucking love it.” Vega's grin appeared instantly. “There it is.” “What?” “That look.” “What look?” “The one people get when they realize they didn't come here just to try something.” Birgitta went quiet. That landed harder than expected. Vega didn't seem to notice. Or perhaps she did and had enough sense not to press. Birgitta looked out across Jig-Jig. People moving. Talking. Working. Buying food. Flirting. Waiting. A courier with translucent synthetic calves pushed through the crowd while arguing with someone over comms. A woman whose face had been sculpted into something delicately feline stood at a kiosk eating noodles beside a completely unmodified man in office clothes. Nobody cared. Night City didn't stop to explain itself. Neither did Jig-Jig. Birgitta smiled. “No,” she said. Vega looked at her. “No what?” “I don't think I came here just to try something.” Vega's expression softened. “Good.” That was all. No speech. No initiation ceremony. Just good. Birgitta appreciated that. --- Deja suddenly went still. Not dramatically. Enough that Birgitta noticed. Dalia noticed first. Of course. A prospective client was approaching from across the floor. Woman. Tall. Athletic. Silver chrome tracing both arms in elegant lines. Deja looked at her. The woman looked back. And Birgitta knew Kiro well enough to recognize interest immediately. Strong interest. Under normal circumstances, Deja would already have been making her own decision. Tonight she didn't. The woman stopped in front of them. “Deja?” Deja's eyes went to Dalia. The woman followed them. Saw the leash. Understood at least part of the arrangement. Dalia studied her. No hurry. No performance for the people watching. She asked two questions. The woman answered both. Dalia considered. Then: “No.” The woman blinked once. “All right.” No argument. No insult. She nodded to Deja. “Another night.” Deja smiled. “Maybe.” Dalia's hand moved. The leash tightened. Not harshly. Decisively. Deja stepped back to Dalia's side. The woman left. Birgitta watched Deja's eyes follow her for a moment. Dalia did too. “You liked her.” “Yes.” “Would you have gone with her?” “Yes.” Dalia waited. Deja looked at her. Then smiled. “But I don't decide tonight.” “No.” The smile grew. “Good.” There. Birgitta understood it a little better. Not humiliation. Not helplessness. Relief. Deja had chosen to put the burden of _what next?_ somewhere else for one evening. And Dalia wasn't softening the experiment by handing attractive choices back whenever they appeared. She had said no to someone Deja wanted. The no mattered precisely because Deja would have said yes. Mandi wasn't there to make a joke. Nova was working. Vega had gone quiet too. Birgitta simply watched. Dalia touched Deja's cheek. Deja leaned into the touch. Then Dalia let her hand fall. The leash loosened again. Decision finished. No drama. Birgitta liked that even more. --- Mandi returned eventually. Her client came with her as far as the edge of the working area. This time Birgitta watched the goodbye. The woman looked thoroughly satisfied. So did Mandi. Mandi caught her by the front of the jacket and kissed her once. Long enough to be real. Short enough to remain goodbye. When they separated, the woman smiled. “Again.” Mandi smiled back. “Ask nicely.” “Again, please.” “Better.” One last touch to the woman's silver cyberarm. Then she was gone. Mandi turned. Saw Birgitta. Three fingers. Birgitta pointed at her. “I swear to God.” Mandi laughed. Vega said: “She has two.” “I know.” “Still.” “I KNOW.” Mandi approached. “How was Tomas?” Birgitta looked at her. Mandi's expression had changed. The teasing remained. But underneath it was professional interest. Birgitta answered honestly. “Good.” “What kind of good?” Birgitta thought. “Nervous at first.” Mandi nodded. “And?” “He wanted to talk.” “Did you?” “For a while.” “Did it help?” “Yes.” Mandi waited. Birgitta realized she was actually being asked. Not teased. She continued. “He needed time to stop thinking he had to do this correctly.” Mandi's smile became smaller. “Common.” “I figured.” “What did you do?” “Let him stop.” Mandi looked at her for a second. Then nodded. “Good.” One word. It meant more than Birgitta expected. Vega joined them. “She likes the work.” Mandi looked at Birgitta. “Oh?” Birgitta glared at Vega. “Traitor.” “You said it.” Mandi's grin returned. “How much?” Birgitta could have played coy. Didn't. “A lot.” Mandi looked delighted. “Fuck.” “What?” “You're going to be competition.” Birgitta smiled. “You're scared.” “No.” “Little bit.” “Not remotely.” “Twenty-five thousand and one.” Mandi stared at her. Vega began laughing again. Birgitta laughed too. Then Nova returned. She walked back alone, composed, satisfied, her charcoal-coated client already disappearing into the crowd behind her. Vega immediately raised both eyebrows. Nova saw. “Don't.” “I didn't say anything.” “You were going to.” “I was thinking.” Nova stopped beside her. Vega gave her working partner a quick hug. Nothing more. Nova returned it. Then Vega leaned back. “Good?” Nova smiled. “Very.” “Nice.” And that was that. Birgitta saw the real affection beneath it because Reyes knew where to look. Anyone else saw two working partners who cared whether the other had enjoyed her booking. Both readings were true enough. Neither broke the cover. Perfect. For several minutes, nobody in their little cluster went anywhere. They talked. Mandi complained that Birgitta's extra eddie was stupid. Birgitta explained patiently that this was because Mandi lacked sophistication. Nova sided with Birgitta purely to annoy Mandi. Vega changed sides twice. Deja remained beside Dalia, still visibly enjoying not being responsible for whatever happened next. Suzie Q passed once. She didn't stop. Her eyes moved over Birgitta. Then Mandi. Nova. Vega. Dalia. Deja. Back to Birgitta. Birgitta met her gaze. Suzie gave nothing away. Neither did Birgitta. Then Suzie continued walking. The blind test was still running. And Birgitta realized something. She wasn't looking for her third booking. Not yet. She wasn't counting minutes. She wasn't trying to prove she could attract another client. She was standing among people she loved while they believed she was someone they'd met tonight. Listening to them talk about work. Watching them work. Learning things about their covers she'd never had reason to notice as Reyes. And being evaluated in return. Honestly. No softened opinions. No allowances because she was Reyes. No one protecting her feelings. No one cheering because their friend had tried something brave. If Mandi eventually said Birgitta was good, she would mean Birgitta was good. If Nova found a flaw, Reyes would hear the flaw without Nova knowing who received it. If Vega thought she was fun, it would be because Vega actually thought the strange copper-grey-haired new joytoy was fun. That was priceless. Birgitta rested one hip against the rail. Let the noise of Jig-Jig move around her. Let the next client remain somewhere in the future. There was no hurry. She had an entire shift. And, increasingly, she suspected she would have more than one. --- # CHAPTER 9 — THREE It happened almost twenty minutes later. Birgitta knew because she checked once. Not because she was waiting. That distinction pleased her. Mandi had disappeared again. Not with a client this time. Suzie had called her over for something at the far end of the floor, and Mandi had gone with the exaggerated suffering of someone being asked to perform actual labor. Nova and Vega remained nearby. Dalia and Deja had moved farther down Jig-Jig, slowly circulating rather than staying in one place. The leash was still there. Still loose. Still meaningful. Birgitta had watched them go. Then stopped watching. She was getting better at that too. At letting things happen without immediately trying to understand them. Reyes understood rooms. Mapped them. People. Exits. Threats. Relationships. Birgitta didn't need to stop being good at any of that. She simply didn't need to make it the first thing visible on her face. So she leaned against the rail. Listened to Nova and Vega argue about food. And waited for nothing in particular. “You cannot call that dinner,” Nova said. “It contained protein.” “It contained something.” “Protein.” “It came on a stick.” “That doesn't disqualify it.” “It was glowing.” “Night City.” Birgitta smiled. “What color?” Vega looked at her. “Blue.” Nova spread both hands. “Thank you.” Birgitta considered. “Natural blue?” Vega stared at her. “On Jig-Jig?” “Fair.” Nova pointed at Birgitta. “See? She understands.” Vega looked betrayed. “I thought you liked me.” “I do.” “Then support me.” “Emotionally?” “Yes.” “I support your right to make terrible nutritional decisions.” “Bitch.” “Partner.” Birgitta laughed. And then noticed someone waiting. Not close. A few meters away. A man. At least Birgitta assumed man until given reason to think otherwise. Night City made assumptions useful only as temporary working notes. He was shorter than Tomas. Slim. His face was beautiful in a deliberately artificial way. Not the expensive almost-natural perfection some corpos favored. Quite the opposite. His skin had a subtle pearlescent sheen that shifted between warm ivory and pale rose as he moved beneath the lights. Four small chrome points sat symmetrically beneath each eye. His hair was translucent. Not dyed to look translucent. Actually translucent, fine strands catching the neon and turning it into thin lines of color. Interesting. He was looking at Birgitta. Then away. Then back. Vega followed her gaze. “Oh.” Birgitta glanced at her. “Oh?” “He's been doing that for a while.” “How long?” “Couple minutes.” “And you didn't tell me?” Vega smiled. “I wanted to see when you'd notice.” Nova sighed. “She's helpful like that.” “Extremely.” Birgitta looked back. The man was still there. She smiled at him. Not an invitation to book. An invitation to approach. He did. Good. “Hi,” Birgitta said. “Hi.” His voice was soft. His eyes weren't. Those were almost aggressively vivid. Yellow-green, slit pupils, obviously engineered. They moved briefly toward Nova and Vega. Then back to Birgitta. “Am I interrupting?” Vega answered before Birgitta could. “Yes.” Nova elbowed her. “No.” Vega grinned. Birgitta pushed away from the rail. “They're terrible.” “I noticed.” “Hey,” Vega said. The man smiled. That helped. “My name is Emil.” “Birgitta.” “I know.” Birgitta sighed. “Of course you do.” Emil's smile grew. “New girl.” “Apparently that's my legal name now.” Nova laughed. Vega said: “Twenty-five thousand and one.” Birgitta turned slowly. Vega immediately looked innocent. “Et tu?” “I learned from Mandi.” “Terrible influence.” “The worst.” Emil was laughing now. Good. Birgitta looked back at him. “What can I do for you, Emil?” His amusement faded slightly. Not discomfort. Consideration. “I'm not sure if you'd be interested.” Birgitta tilted her head. “In what?” He glanced around. Then back. “Not here.” That could mean several things. Birgitta didn't move. “Then give me enough to decide whether we should talk somewhere else.” Emil nodded. Fair. “I'm not alone.” Birgitta waited. “My partner is over there.” He indicated the crowd. Birgitta followed. Found her. A woman stood near one of the food stalls. Tall. Broad. Not watching them constantly, but clearly aware of the conversation. Her body was heavily modified. Not full-conversion. Not far from it either. Both legs synthetic from high above the knee, designed without any attempt to imitate flesh. Dark composite. Visible articulation. Powerful rather than delicate. Her left arm matched. Her right remained biological. One side of her scalp was shaved, exposing a broad interface plate following the curve of her skull. The rest of her hair fell in a thick black braid. She caught Birgitta looking. Raised one hand. Birgitta waved back. The woman smiled. Birgitta returned her attention to Emil. “Partner.” “Yes.” “Romantic?” “Yes.” “Sexual?” “Yes.” Emil nodded toward her. “Her name is Liv.” “All right.” He hesitated. Birgitta waited. “We've booked together before.” “Joytoys?” “Yes.” “And?” “Usually one of us participates.” Birgitta understood part of it. “Usually?” “Sometimes we both do.” “Okay.” Emil watched her face carefully. Birgitta didn't give him reassurance he hadn't asked for. Nor concern she didn't feel. “What do you want tonight?” He exhaled. “Liv wants to watch.” Birgitta glanced toward her again. Liv was now eating something from a paper tray. Entirely unbothered. Birgitta looked back. “Watch you and me.” “Yes.” “Only watch?” “Yes.” “Does she stay in the room?” “Yes.” “Does she want interaction with me?” “No.” “Can that change?” Emil paused. “Not unless you ask her.” Good answer. Birgitta nodded. “And what do you want?” That question seemed to surprise him. “Me?” “Yes. You're the one I'd be having sex with.” Nova and Vega had gone quiet behind her. Not obviously listening. Absolutely listening. Emil looked at Birgitta for a few seconds. Then: “I want her there.” “That's what she wants.” “No.” He shook his head. “I mean I want her watching.” Ah. There it was. Not reluctant accommodation. Not one partner tolerating the other's preference. Shared dynamic. Different roles. Birgitta's curiosity woke up properly. “How does that change it for you?” Emil smiled. A little embarrassed now. “I like knowing she's watching me enjoy myself.” Birgitta felt the answer click into place. Behind her, Vega became very still. Birgitta almost laughed. Of course. Brenda would understand that immediately. But Vega said nothing. Good girl. Birgitta looked toward Liv again. This time Liv had noticed the longer glance. She put down the fork. Waited. Birgitta crooked one finger. Come here. Liv came. Her synthetic legs changed the sound of her steps, but only slightly. Night City engineering. She stopped beside Emil. He immediately relaxed. Small change. Birgitta noticed. Liv noticed Birgitta noticing. Interesting. “Birgitta,” Emil said, “Liv.” “Hi.” Liv smiled. “Hi.” Up close, she was even more imposing. Not threatening. Simply built with absolutely no interest in pretending her chrome wasn't chrome. Birgitta liked that. She looked between them. “So. You watch.” Liv nodded. “If you're comfortable with it.” “And you don't join.” “No.” “Touch me?” “No.” “Touch Emil?” Liv glanced at him. “Not during.” Emil smiled. Birgitta caught it. That rule mattered to them. “Talk?” “If you want me to.” “Do you normally?” “Sometimes.” “What kind of sometimes?” Liv considered. “When it makes him blush.” Emil closed his eyes. Birgitta laughed. Oh. “All right.” Emil looked at Liv. “You didn't have to tell her that.” “Yes, I did.” “No.” “Yes.” Birgitta smiled. “I like her.” Liv's smile widened. “So do I.” Emil sighed. “This is already going badly.” “For you?” Birgitta asked. “Yes.” “Interesting.” He looked at her. Birgitta smiled sweetly. His slit-pupiled eyes narrowed. “I've made a mistake.” “Twenty-five thousand and one eddies' worth.” Liv laughed. Emil looked toward the ceiling. “Of course.” “You heard?” “Everybody heard.” Birgitta sighed. “I am going to kill Mandi.” Nova coughed behind her. Vega was very obviously trying not to laugh. Birgitta ignored both. She looked at Liv. “One thing.” “Go ahead.” “If I'm working with him, I'm paying attention to him. Not performing for you.” Liv nodded immediately. “Good.” “If something happens naturally because you're there, fine.” “Yes.” “But I'm not going to spend an hour checking whether you're entertained.” “I don't want you to.” Another good answer. Birgitta looked at Emil. “You?” “That's what I want too.” “Good.” She smiled. “Then I'm interested.” Emil's entire face changed. Not because he'd expected rejection exactly. Because he'd prepared for it as a possibility. Birgitta understood. Some joytoys wouldn't want an observer. Some wouldn't want a client's partner in the room. Some would dislike the social complication. Reasonable boundaries. They simply weren't hers. Not tonight. Maybe not generally. That was useful information. “Still twenty-five thousand and one?” Liv asked. Birgitta looked at her. “For him.” “And me?” “You're watching.” Liv waited. Birgitta thought. Interesting question. She could charge. Probably should, if the observer became part of the booking structure. But this was her first night. And she wanted to know what it felt like. “Nothing.” Emil frowned. “Really?” “Yes.” Liv looked at her more carefully. “Why?” “Because I'm curious.” That was apparently sufficient. Liv nodded. Emil transferred payment. Birgitta's optics confirmed it. Twenty-five thousand and one. Booking three. Only then did Birgitta hear Vega behind her. Very quietly: “She's going to be trouble.” Nova answered: “She already is.” Birgitta turned. Both working partners looked completely innocent. She smiled. “I heard that.” Vega waved. “Have fun.” Birgitta looked at Liv. Then Emil. “I intend to.” --- The room was slightly larger than Tomas's had been. Good. Liv took the chair without being asked. Also good. She knew where she wanted to be. Emil stood near the bed. Birgitta closed the door. The change in him was immediate. Not nervous like Tomas. Aware. He looked at Liv. Liv looked back. Nothing passed between them that Birgitta could name. Everything passed between them that mattered. Birgitta walked toward Emil. “Still what you want?” “Yes.” She looked at Liv. “You?” Liv settled back in the chair. “Yes.” Birgitta returned her attention to Emil. And meant what she'd said outside. Liv was in the room. Liv mattered. But Emil was her client. So Birgitta looked at him. Only him. At first. She touched one of the chrome points beneath his eye. “Decoration?” “Mostly.” “Mostly?” “They monitor a few things.” “Useful?” “Sometimes.” “Pretty.” Emil smiled. “That was the priority.” “Good priorities.” Birgitta traced one fingertip lightly toward the next chrome point. His skin shimmered beneath her hand. Pearl to rose. Then warmer rose. “Oh.” Emil laughed softly. “What?” “Your skin.” “What about it?” “It changes more when you're flushed.” He looked toward Liv. Automatically. Liv smiled. There. Birgitta felt it. The dynamic entering the room. Not because Liv did anything. Because Emil knew she had seen. His color deepened. Birgitta smiled. “Ah.” “Don't.” “Don't what?” “That.” “What?” “Figure it out.” From the chair, Liv said: “Too late.” Emil closed his eyes. Birgitta laughed. Then kissed him. His eyes opened again. He kissed her back immediately. No Tomas-like hesitation. Different man. Different booking. Good. Birgitta's hands moved to his waist. Emil's settled at hers. They kissed again. Longer. His translucent hair caught pink light from the room and scattered it across her fingers when she slid one hand behind his head. She liked the texture. Softer than expected. Emil drew her closer. Birgitta went. Their bodies met. His breathing changed. Birgitta heard a quiet sound from the chair. Not words. Liv shifting position. Emil heard it too. His kiss became more urgent. There. Birgitta understood. Liv wasn't merely watching the sex. Her attention was part of what Emil wanted from it. Birgitta didn't need to perform toward her. She only needed not to pretend she wasn't there. She pulled back slightly. Emil followed. Birgitta smiled. “Stay.” He stopped. Her hand went to the fastening of her dress. Emil watched. Behind him, Liv watched too. One movement. Fast-drop. The conservative black lie released. Fabric fell. Emil stared. Liv laughed softly. “Fuck.” Emil looked over his shoulder. “You knew what she was wearing.” “I did not know it did that.” Birgitta smiled. “Lena would be offended.” The name escaped naturally. Safe. Lena was a known Night City designer. No problem. Emil looked back at Birgitta. “Can I?” His hands hovered. “Yes.” He touched her. The first contact was careful. Not because he was nervous. Because Liv was watching. Birgitta could see awareness moving through him. Feel it in the slight tension of his hands. She kissed him again. Let him settle. His hands became surer. Birgitta opened his clothing gradually. No hurry. No mechanical race toward nakedness. Each new piece of skin changed the way they touched. Changed the way Liv could see him. And every time Emil remembered that, his response sharpened. Birgitta began to enjoy that feedback loop. Not Liv's gaze itself. What Liv's gaze did to Emil. That was the interesting part. At one point Emil buried his face against Birgitta's neck. Liv said quietly: “She's making you blush.” Emil groaned. Birgitta laughed against his hair. “Apparently that's my specialty.” “You've known him twenty minutes,” Liv said. “Fast learner.” Emil lifted his head. “I hate both of you.” Birgitta kissed him. “No, you don't.” He kissed her back harder. Correct. They moved onto the bed. Birgitta let the pace build naturally. Touch. Kisses. Hands learning. Emil became steadily less self-conscious about Birgitta and steadily more aware of Liv. Exactly the combination he'd asked for. When Birgitta wanted more, she made that clear. Emil answered. The decisive transition came without ceremony, but not without attention: they chose it together, moved into it together, and Birgitta stayed with the first change in his expression instead of looking toward the chair. His eyes closed. His breath caught. Then his eyes opened again. Straight toward Liv. Liv smiled. Emil made a helpless sound. Birgitta felt her own smile against his shoulder. Oh, she understood now. She moved with him. Slowly at first. Letting them find the rhythm rather than imposing one. Emil's hands tightened against her. Liv remained quiet. Mostly. Every now and then she said his name. Nothing elaborate. That was enough. Each time, Emil reacted. Birgitta learned quickly. She didn't compete with it. Didn't try to pull his attention entirely back. Instead she let the triangle exist. Her body with his. His attention sometimes finding Liv. Liv's attention returning him to Birgitta more intensely. It was strange. Not extreme. Not difficult. Just different. Birgitta liked different. Especially when different made sense. Their rhythm strengthened. Emil stopped trying to hide what Liv's presence did to him. That made everything easier. Birgitta's own pleasure built with it. Real. Again. That still delighted her. She wasn't manufacturing enthusiasm for a client. Wasn't observing Reyes from somewhere behind the cover. She was having sex. Good sex. As Birgitta. With a man whose skin changed color when his partner teased him from a chair. Night City. Of course. At some point Liv said: “Emil.” He looked at her. Liv's smile became slow. “Let her see.” Whatever that meant to him, it worked. His restraint broke. Not violently. Completely. Birgitta felt the change and followed it. The rhythm lost some of its neatness. Good. She didn't want neat. Her hands held him close. His face disappeared against her neck again. Liv said something Birgitta didn't quite hear. Emil did. His body tightened. Birgitta's pleasure rose sharply in answer. She stayed with it. With him. With the strange, warm geometry of the room. When release finally came, Emil's arrived first. His entire body went still against her. Birgitta held him through it. A few breaths later her own followed, enough to pull a broken laugh from her bright Birgitta voice and leave her gripping his shoulders. Then— stillness. No one spoke. Emil remained close. Birgitta didn't push him away. Liv stayed in the chair. The room settled around all three of them. Birgitta closed her eyes. Breathed. Felt Emil's breathing slowly normalize against her. Only after the moment had genuinely passed did Liv speak. “Worth twenty-five thousand and one?” Emil laughed weakly. Birgitta started laughing too. He lifted his head. “I hate you.” Liv smiled. “No, you don't.” Birgitta looked at him. “I said that.” “You're both terrible.” “Yes,” Liv said. Birgitta nodded. “Apparently.” Emil dropped his forehead against Birgitta's shoulder. And for another minute, none of them made any attempt to leave. --- Liv came to the edge of the bed eventually. Not joining. Still respecting exactly what they'd agreed. She touched Emil's hair. He leaned into her hand. Birgitta watched. There was nothing performative left now. Just affection. Eleven years of it, apparently. Liv looked at Birgitta. “Thank you.” Birgitta smiled. “You're welcome.” Emil looked up. “You liked it.” Again, not a question. Birgitta considered pretending professionalism. Didn't. “Yes.” Liv smiled. “I thought so.” “What gave it away?” “The part where you came.” Birgitta stared at her. Emil burst out laughing. “Oh, fuck you.” Liv looked pleased with herself. “Not booked.” That got Birgitta too. She laughed until she had to put one hand over her face. This was ridiculous. She loved it. Not every booking needed to look like this. She wouldn't want every booking to. That wasn't the point. The point was that nothing about this had bothered her. Two clients entering the room in different roles. One sexual. One observational. A relationship already surrounding the booking before Birgitta entered it. She hadn't felt like an intruder. Hadn't felt like a prop. She'd simply found the shape of the situation. And enjoyed it. That was useful to know. Very useful. --- When the three of them returned to the floor, Liv and Emil left together. Liv's biological hand rested at the back of Emil's neck. He looked thoroughly happy. Before disappearing into the crowd, he turned. “Again?” Birgitta smiled. “Yes.” Liv raised an eyebrow. Birgitta pointed at her. “You behave next time.” “No.” “Fair.” They left. Birgitta watched them go. Then turned. Five faces were waiting. Mandi. Nova. Vega. Dalia. Deja. Oh, fuck. Mandi held up three fingers. Birgitta held up one. Mandi frowned. Birgitta smiled. “The eddie.” Mandi lowered her hand. “I hate you.” “Apparently everybody does tonight.” Vega looked past Birgitta toward the departing couple. “Both?” Birgitta understood the question. “One participated.” “And the other?” “Watched.” Vega's expression changed. Tiny. Interested. Birgitta noticed. Of course she did. Nova noticed Vega too. Of course she did. But neither broke cover. Mandi tilted her head. “And?” Birgitta smiled. “And what?” “Did you like it?” There it was. The review panel. Birgitta could lie. No reason to. “Yes.” Deja looked at her. “The watching?” “The dynamic.” That answer made Dalia pay closer attention. Birgitta leaned against the rail again. “He wanted her there. She wanted to see him enjoy himself. Neither wanted me performing for her. Once I understood that, it was easy.” Nova nodded slowly. “Good.” Mandi looked at her. “You asked?” “Obviously.” Another tiny shift around the group. Approval. Not applause. Better. Professional recognition. Vega asked: “Would you do it again?” “Yes.” No hesitation. Deja smiled. “You really are curious.” Birgitta looked at her. “Yes.” That was becoming the simplest truth of the night. Mandi folded her arms. “Three bookings.” Birgitta sighed. “Here we go.” “First night.” “Yes.” “Three.” “Yes.” “And you're taking observer bookings.” Birgitta looked at her. “Apparently.” Mandi's smile became thoughtful. Not teasing now. Evaluating. Nova had the same look. So did Dalia. Birgitta knew that look. She had seen versions of it during operations. When people realized a new variable mattered. Interesting. Mandi finally said: “New-girl effect.” Birgitta smiled. “Still?” “Maybe.” Nova looked at her. “Maybe not.” Mandi glanced at Nova. Then back to Birgitta. Birgitta felt a ridiculous little surge of pride. She hid it. Mostly. Vega didn't help. “I think she's good.” Birgitta looked at her. Vega shrugged. “What?” “Nothing.” “That was a compliment.” “I know.” “You looked weird.” “I'm bad at compliments.” Mandi snorted. “I don't believe that for a second.” Birgitta smiled. Good. They still didn't know. Not one of them. And now they were beginning to decide whether Birgitta was actually good at the work. Not Reyes. Not their friend. Not their lover. Not someone whose feelings needed protecting. Birgitta. The strange new premium joytoy charging twenty-five thousand and one eddies an hour. Reyes stood underneath the cover and listened. This— this was exactly what she'd wanted. Maybe even more than she'd known. ---- # CHAPTER 10 — CHOSEN The next decision wasn't Birgitta's. She noticed because Deja stopped walking. Not abruptly. Just enough. Dalia noticed too. Of course she did. They had returned from their slow circuit of Jig-Jig Street and were passing the group when Dalia's attention shifted toward someone near the opposite rail. A woman. Birgitta followed the glance. Late thirties, perhaps. Maybe older. Age had become an increasingly unreliable visual measurement in Night City. She was tall, broad through the shoulders, dressed in an expensive dark suit that looked almost aggressively ordinary until the light caught it and revealed threads of moving silver beneath the fabric. No obvious gang colors. No visible weapons. Minimal chrome. One eye biological brown. The other an understated replacement, dark enough that Birgitta almost missed it. She wasn't looking at Deja. Not yet. She was watching the street. Alone. Dalia stopped. Deja stopped with her. The leash remained loose. Mandi noticed. “What?” Dalia didn't answer. Nova followed her gaze. Vega did too. Birgitta watched Dalia. That was more interesting. Dalia studied the woman for several seconds. Then looked at Deja. “Her.” Deja followed her gaze. And paused. Tiny. Very tiny. But Reyes knew Kiro. Birgitta knew what she'd seen. Not dislike. Not fear. Not even reluctance. Simply— not the person Deja would have chosen. Dalia saw it too. “Problem?” Deja looked at her. “No.” “Would you have picked her?” A beat. “No.” Mandi went quiet. So did Nova and Vega. The question wasn't cruel. The answer wasn't embarrassed. It was simply the truth. Dalia's expression didn't change. “Good.” Deja's eyes sharpened. Something passed through them. Excitement. Oh. Birgitta understood immediately. This was different from the earlier no. Earlier, Dalia had taken away a choice Deja wanted. Now she was making one Deja wouldn't have made. Both mattered. Otherwise the arrangement would have been cosmetic. A leash attached to exactly the decisions Deja would already have taken herself. Dalia gave the leash a small pull. “Come.” Deja followed. No argument. No last look toward Mandi. Nothing. Birgitta pushed away from the rail. Mandi looked at her. “Where are you going?” “To watch.” “Subtle.” “I didn't say from three centimeters away.” Vega grinned. “She's learning.” Birgitta ignored her. They didn't follow Dalia and Deja as a group. That would have been ridiculous. Instead the loose cluster naturally shifted farther along the street. Close enough to see. Far enough not to turn Dalia's decision into theater. Dalia approached the woman. “Hi.” The woman turned. Looked at Dalia first. Then Deja. Then the leash. Her expression didn't change much. Interested. Careful. “Hi.” Dalia smiled. “Looking for someone?” “Maybe.” “What kind of maybe?” The woman glanced toward Deja again. “I'm not sure yet.” Deja remained silent. That itself was striking. Kiro would have filled the space differently. Deja normally would too. Tonight the space belonged to Dalia. Dalia asked: “Have you booked here before?” “Yes.” “Premium?” “Once.” “With?” “Not anyone here tonight.” Dalia nodded. “What are you looking for?” The woman considered. “Company.” Dalia waited. The woman smiled slightly. “And sex.” “There we go.” A laugh. Small. Good. Dalia looked toward Deja. Not asking permission. Assessing. Then back to the woman. “She'll go with you.” The woman's eyebrows rose. Deja's breathing changed. Barely. Birgitta heard it because she was listening for it. The woman looked directly at Deja now. “You will?” Deja's eyes flicked to Dalia. Dalia said nothing. Didn't rescue her from the answer. Didn't make the answer for her either. The booking had been selected. Deja still had to inhabit it. “Yes,” Deja said. The woman studied her. “You don't know what I want yet.” Deja smiled. “No.” “That doesn't bother you?” Deja looked at Dalia again. This time the smile changed. “No.” Understanding moved slowly across the woman's face. Not complete understanding. Enough. She looked at Dalia. “You choose her clients.” “Tonight.” “Her idea?” “Yes.” Deja said: “Very much my idea.” Good. No ambiguity. The woman nodded. “My name is Anja.” Deja smiled. “Deja.” “I know.” “Apparently everyone knows everybody tonight.” From several meters away, Birgitta muttered: “Tell me about it.” Vega heard her and snorted. Dalia continued talking with Anja. Practical things. Preferences. What she wanted. What she didn't. No interrogation. No bureaucratic checklist. A conversation between adults deciding whether a booking fit. Anja wasn't complicated. She wanted closeness. Wanted someone responsive. Didn't want a performance built around dominance or submission. Didn't want to hurt anyone. Didn't want to be hurt. Mostly, she admitted after a little prompting, she wanted to stop being alone for an hour. That changed something in Deja's expression. There. Interest. Not sexual yet. Human. Birgitta saw Dalia notice. Dalia had chosen someone Deja wouldn't have approached. Now Deja had found the reason she might stay. Dalia looked at Anja. “Twenty-five thousand.” Anja nodded. Transferred it. Then Dalia did something that made Birgitta's attention sharpen. She stepped toward Deja. Close. One hand lifted. Two fingers beneath Deja's chin. Deja looked up at her. “You're with Anja for the hour.” “Yes.” “You listen to her.” “Yes.” “You take care of her.” Deja's voice softened. “Yes.” Dalia held her gaze for another second. Then she turned to Anja. And offered the leash. Anja stared at it. “Oh.” Dalia smiled. “Symbolic.” “Mostly?” Deja laughed quietly. “Mostly.” Anja looked at Deja. Then Dalia. “Are you sure?” Dalia didn't answer. Deja did. “Yes.” Anja took the leash. Deja inhaled. There. Birgitta felt something tighten pleasantly in her own chest just watching it. Not because of the leash. Because of what had just changed hands with it. For the next hour, Dalia wasn't the person at the other end. Anja was. Dalia stepped back. No jealousy. No hesitation. Decision made. Responsibility transferred. Deja looked at Anja. “Lead.” Anja's face changed. The loneliness she'd admitted was still there. But now something else joined it. A smile. “Okay.” She walked. Deja followed. They disappeared toward the rooms. Birgitta stayed very still. Mandi appeared beside her. “Well?” Birgitta glanced at her. “Well what?” “You have that face again.” “What face?” “The thinking face.” “I don't have a thinking face.” “You absolutely have a thinking face.” Nova joined them. “What did you think?” Birgitta looked toward the door Deja and Anja had gone through. “That was real.” Dalia had returned alone. She heard. “Yes.” Birgitta looked at her. “You knew Deja wouldn't pick her.” “Yes.” “And that was why?” “Partly.” Birgitta waited. Dalia leaned against the rail. “She asked me to decide.” “I know.” “If I spend the whole night choosing only what she would choose herself, then I'm not deciding.” Exactly. Birgitta smiled. Dalia looked at her. “You understand.” “Yes.” Mandi folded her arms. “I understand too.” Dalia looked at her. Mandi added: “I just think you're terrifying.” “Thank you.” “That wasn't a compliment.” “I accepted it as one.” Vega laughed. Birgitta looked again toward the rooms. “How long have you two done this?” Dalia's eyes moved to her. Danger. Not because the question was strange. Because Reyes knew the answer better than Birgitta should. Birgitta realized it half a second after asking. Too late. She let nothing show. Dalia answered easily. “Control?” “Yes.” “Long enough.” Not specific. Good. Birgitta nodded. “First time like this?” Dalia considered. “In public, with all decisions for the evening?” “Yes.” Birgitta smiled. “Interesting.” Dalia's eyes narrowed slightly. “You use that word a lot.” “Lots of things are interesting.” “That sounds exhausting.” “It isn't.” Mandi said: “It will be.” Birgitta looked at her. “What?” “Being interested in everything.” “Better than being bored.” Mandi couldn't argue with that. She tried. Failed. Birgitta enjoyed watching it happen. --- Behind the closed door, Deja followed Anja into the room. Anja stopped almost immediately. The leash remained in her hand. She looked at it. Then at Deja. “I've never done this.” Deja smiled. “Held a leash?” “Had someone handed to me.” The phrasing made Deja's smile flicker. “I'm not property.” “No.” “Dalia didn't give you me.” Anja nodded quickly. “I know.” “She gave you the decision she'd been holding.” Anja looked down at the leash again. “That sounds heavier.” “It is.” For a moment neither moved. Then Anja held it out. “Do you want it back?” Deja looked at it. “No.” “You're sure?” “Yes.” Anja lowered her hand. “All right.” Deja stepped closer. “What do you want?” Anja laughed softly. “I thought I answered that.” “You answered Dalia.” “Different?” “Yes.” “How?” “Because she was deciding whether I'd come with you.” Deja stopped close enough to touch. “Now I'm here.” Anja looked at her. “And now?” “Now you don't have to convince anyone.” That landed. Deja saw it. Anja's shoulders lowered. Only slightly. “Company,” she said. “Okay.” “And sex.” Deja smiled. “There we go.” Anja laughed. The same laugh Dalia had pulled from her outside. But warmer now. Deja reached up. Touched the edge of Anja's dark synthetic eye. “Can you feel this?” “Yes.” “All of it?” “Most.” Deja traced gently beneath it. Anja closed both eyes. “More there.” “Here?” “Yes.” Deja did it again. Slower. Anja exhaled. The leash remained loose between them. Forgotten for several seconds. Then Anja opened her eyes. “Can I kiss you?” “Yes.” She did. Carefully. Too carefully. Deja let her. One kiss. Then another. Anja's hand hovered near Deja's waist without touching. Deja smiled against her mouth. “You can.” Anja's hand settled. Warm. Biological. Deja moved closer. The next kiss lasted longer. No audience. No Dalia. No need to prove the experiment worked. Just the woman Dalia had chosen and the woman Deja had agreed to follow into the room. Anja's hand tightened slightly at her waist. Deja responded. That seemed to surprise her. She pulled back. “What?” “You're very…” Deja waited. “Present.” Deja smiled. “Where else would I be?” Anja laughed. “I don't know.” “Then stop looking for me somewhere else.” Deja kissed her. This time Anja stopped being careful. Not rough. Certain. Better. Deja's hands moved over the expensive suit. Found the hidden fastening. Anja caught her wrist. “Wait.” Deja stopped instantly. Anja looked at her. Then at Deja's clothes. “Yours first.” Deja's eyebrows rose. “All right.” Anja touched the fast-drop release. Looked at Deja. Permission. Deja nodded. The outfit opened. Anja stared. Deja laughed softly. “Worth the wait?” “Yes.” Immediate. Honest. Deja liked that. Anja touched her. No hesitation now. Deja leaned into it. Their mouths met again. The suit followed more slowly. Buttons. Fastenings. Layers. Anja had dressed for a boardroom. Deja undressed her like none existed. When they reached the bed, Anja stopped once more. The leash was still in her hand. She looked at Deja. “Do I tell you?” “If you want.” “What to do?” “Yes.” Anja swallowed. Deja saw the uncertainty. Not fear. The weight she'd mentioned. Dalia had made the choice. Anja now had to live inside it. Deja touched her cheek. “You don't have to become somebody else because she handed you that.” Anja looked at her. “Then what do I do?” “What you wanted when you came here.” “Stop being alone.” “Yes.” Anja kissed her. That answer was enough. They moved together onto the bed. The leash fell across the sheets between them. Still held. Still symbolic. Still real enough. Anja guided. Tentatively first. Deja followed. Not passively. That wasn't what she'd given away. She kissed back. Touched back. Responded. When Anja changed position, Deja went with her. When she slowed, Deja slowed. When she wanted more, Deja let her ask for it without taking the decision away. The rhythm between them developed gradually. Nothing spectacular. Nothing designed for a story. That made it matter more. Anja's loneliness disappeared by degrees. First from her shoulders. Then from the way she touched. Then from her eyes. By the time they chose to go further, she wasn't careful because she feared doing something wrong anymore. She was careful because Deja mattered. The decisive transition came with Anja looking directly at her. Deja nodded once. Anja entered her. Deja's breath caught. Her hands tightened against Anja's shoulders. Anja stopped. “Okay?” Deja opened her eyes. “Yes.” “More?” “Yes.” Anja moved. Slowly. Deja let the first pleasure show. Didn't hide it. Didn't soften it for Anja's benefit. The sound she made changed Anja immediately. Confidence. There. Deja smiled. “Again.” Anja did. The leash shifted across the sheets with every movement. Neither looked at it. They didn't need to. Anja found a rhythm. Deja met it. Pleasure built without hurry. The room narrowed. Anja's dark synthetic eye reflected tiny fragments of Deja's face. Her biological eye did not. Deja found herself watching the difference. Then Anja kissed her and she stopped thinking about it. Good. Much better. Later, Anja's breathing broke first. Deja felt her losing the careful rhythm. Let her. Held her. Moved with her until Anja came with her face pressed against Deja's shoulder and the leash clenched uselessly in one hand. Deja smiled into her hair. Stayed with her. Then Anja lifted her head. Looked at Deja. “You didn't.” Deja laughed softly. “Not yet.” Something changed in Anja's face. Determination. Deja almost told her she didn't have to. Stopped herself. That would be taking the decision away. Anja still held the leash. So Deja waited. Anja kissed her. Then began again. Different now. Less uncertain. She knew some of Deja. Not all. Enough. Deja let her learn. When her own release came later, it came slowly and then all at once, pulling her tight against Anja with a low sound she made no attempt to suppress. Anja stayed close. Held her through it. Then collapsed beside her. For a while, neither spoke. Deja stared at the ceiling. Anja stared at Deja. Eventually: “Was I supposed to do something with the leash?” Deja turned her head. Then laughed. Hard. Anja started laughing too. “I mean it.” “No.” “Good.” “You did fine.” Anja smiled. “Dalia picked me.” “Yes.” “Why?” Deja thought about it. “Because I wouldn't have.” Anja's smile faded slightly. “Oh.” Deja rolled toward her. “That isn't an insult.” “I know.” “I would have walked past you.” “Better.” “Probably.” Anja laughed. Deja touched her face. “And I would've missed this.” That silenced her. Anja leaned forward. Kissed Deja gently. No urgency left. Just warmth. When they separated, Anja whispered: “Then I'm glad she picked me.” Deja looked at the leash lying between them. “So am I.” --- When the door opened much later, Birgitta was talking to Nova. She stopped. Deja came out first. Anja followed. Still holding the leash. Dalia turned. Deja saw her. Something in her posture changed immediately. Not submission snapping back into place. Recognition. The decision-maker was here again. Anja approached Dalia. Held out the leash. Dalia took it. No ceremony. No joke. Anja looked at her. “Thank you.” Dalia smiled. “You're welcome.” Then Anja looked at Deja. Deja stepped forward and hugged her. Warm. Long enough to mean something. Anja kissed her cheek. “Again?” Deja's eyes went automatically to Dalia. Anja noticed. So did everyone else. Dalia considered. Then smiled. “Another night.” Deja laughed. Anja did too. “Fair.” She left. Deja returned to Dalia's side. Dalia looked at her. “Well?” Deja smiled. “You were right.” Mandi made a wounded noise. “Oh, no.” Everyone looked at her. Mandi pointed at Dalia. “Never tell her that.” Dalia's smile became dangerous. “Too late.” Deja laughed. Birgitta watched them. And understood something else about the night. Dalia hadn't chosen a better client than Deja could have chosen. That wasn't the point. She had chosen a client Deja would never have discovered. There was a difference. A very large one. Dalia gave the leash a tiny pull. Deja moved closer. Still smiling. Birgitta smiled too. Then Mandi looked at her. “Why are you smiling?” “No reason.” “You're doing the face.” “What face?” “The fucking face.” Birgitta laughed. And somewhere beneath the copper-grey hair, the light brown eyes, the unfamiliar face and the bright impossible voice, Reyes quietly filed away one more thing she would never admit she'd learned tonight. --- # CHAPTER 11 — NOT JUST NEW “You were right.” Dalia was still smiling. Deja immediately looked suspicious. “I shouldn't have said that.” “No.” “Forget it.” “No.” “Dalia.” “I'll remember it forever.” Mandi groaned. “This is why we don't encourage her.” Birgitta leaned against the rail and watched Deja reach for the leash. Dalia moved her hand away. Deja stopped. Looked at her. Dalia's smile widened. “Mine.” Deja stared at her for half a second. Then lowered her hand. “Right.” There was something in the way she said it. Not annoyance. A reminder landing. The booking had ended. Anja had returned the leash. The evening had not ended. Dalia still held the decisions. Deja's shoulders relaxed again. Birgitta noticed. Of course she noticed. Mandi noticed Birgitta noticing. Of course she fucking did. “There.” Birgitta didn't look at her. “No.” “You did it again.” “I have no idea what you're talking about.” “The face.” “There is no face.” Nova said: “There is.” Birgitta turned. “You too?” Nova smiled. “You're very expressive.” That almost made Birgitta laugh for an entirely different reason. Reyes wasn't. Not like this. Birgitta was. Victor's face mesh moved perfectly with her, but the technology wasn't creating the expressions. She was. More smiles. More open interest. More reactions allowed to reach the surface. A different social rhythm built on top of a different face and a different voice. And apparently Mandi had already learned enough of Birgitta to recognize when she was thinking too hard. That was— Birgitta wasn't sure what that was. Satisfying. Dangerous. Funny as hell. Probably all three. She smiled at Mandi. Mandi pointed. “That one too.” “Fuck off.” “Very premium.” “Twenty-five thousand and one.” Mandi narrowed her black eyes. “You've turned your own rate into a threat.” “Yes.” “I respect that.” “Thank you.” Vega looked between them. “You two are going to be unbearable if she keeps working here.” Birgitta's smile remained. _If._ She liked the sound of that word less than expected. If she kept working here. Suzie hadn't promised anything permanent. Tonight was a test. A real one. Three bookings didn't change that. Three successful bookings didn't change that. Probably. Birgitta looked across the floor. Suzie was talking to one of the Mox near the entrance. Not looking at her. Birgitta had learned enough tonight not to assume that meant Suzie wasn't watching. Good. Let her. --- Vega got the next approach. A man and a woman. Young. At least visually. Both dressed like they'd come directly from somewhere expensive and discovered Jig-Jig by accident. The woman was doing most of the talking. The man looked simultaneously excited and terrified. Birgitta watched Vega recognize that within seconds. “First time?” Vega asked. The man looked offended. “No.” The woman looked at him. Vega looked at him. Birgitta looked at him from several meters away. He lasted approximately three seconds. “Yes.” Vega smiled. “Thought so.” The woman laughed and kissed his cheek. “He's been pretending not to panic since we got out of the cab.” “I am not panicking.” “You checked the price four times.” “That's financial responsibility.” Vega looked solemn. “Very sexy.” Birgitta had to turn away to hide a laugh. Nova didn't bother. The man heard her and pointed. “See? I'm being mocked.” “Lovingly,” his partner said. “That doesn't help.” Vega's attention moved between them. “What are you looking for?” The woman answered. “Someone for him.” His head turned. “For me?” She looked at him. “Yes.” “I thought—” “I know what you thought.” Vega waited. Didn't jump in. The woman touched his arm. “We talked about this.” He nodded. “Yeah.” “You still want it?” A pause. Then another nod. “Yeah.” Vega's expression changed. The joke disappeared. Not completely. Enough. “And you?” she asked the woman. “I want to stay.” “Watch?” “Yes.” Birgitta's eyebrows rose. Well. Apparently the universe had a theme tonight. Vega glanced toward Birgitta. Only once. Birgitta smiled sweetly. Vega's eyes narrowed. _Don't._ Birgitta's smile widened. _I didn't say anything._ The exchange lasted less than a second. Nobody else would have read it. Reyes knew Brenda too well. That made it dangerous. Birgitta turned her attention deliberately elsewhere. Mandi caught her. “What?” “Nothing.” “You and Vega just did something.” “No, we didn't.” “Yes, you did.” “Paranoid.” “Occupational hazard.” Birgitta almost answered _you have no idea._ Stopped. Good. Mandi was still watching her. Birgitta stepped closer. “Maybe I was admiring her technique.” Mandi's suspicion shifted immediately into interest. “And?” “She stopped joking the moment she needed to.” Mandi looked toward Vega. The couple were still talking. “Yeah.” “You all do that.” “Do what?” “Switch.” Mandi looked back at her. Birgitta gestured loosely. “This.” “The work?” “No. Attention.” Mandi said nothing. Birgitta continued. “You joke. You flirt. You fuck around with each other. Then someone approaches and suddenly they're the only person in front of you.” Mandi smiled slightly. “Should be.” “Apparently.” “You didn't know that?” “I knew it intellectually.” “And now?” Birgitta looked toward Vega again. “Now I've watched it.” Mandi studied her. Then: “You really are new.” Birgitta laughed. “Yes.” “That's weird.” “Why?” Mandi shrugged. “You don't feel new.” Birgitta's laughter nearly stopped. Careful. Mandi continued before the silence could become meaningful. “You don't get lost.” “I have excellent spatial awareness.” “You don't freeze when somebody asks for something unusual.” “Three bookings.” “You don't look scared.” “Should I?” “No.” Mandi's head tilted. “You just don't.” Birgitta smiled. “Maybe I'm talented.” Mandi snorted. “There she is.” Danger passed. If it had ever been danger at all. Birgitta breathed normally. --- Vega's conversation continued. Longer than Birgitta expected. The young man had stopped pretending confidence. That helped. His partner remained beside him. No pressure. No impatience. Vega asked something Birgitta couldn't hear. He answered. Vega nodded. Another question. Another answer. Then Vega looked at the woman. The woman answered too. Only after that did Vega smile. “All right.” The man swallowed. “All right?” “If you still want me.” His partner looked at him. Vega didn't. She waited for his answer. He looked at her. Then at the woman beside him. Then back. “Yes.” Payment. Vega offered her hand. He took it. His partner took his other hand. The three of them started toward the rooms. Vega passed Birgitta. Birgitta kept her face perfectly neutral. Vega stopped. “No.” Birgitta blinked. “I didn't say anything.” “You were about to.” “I was breathing.” “Suspiciously.” The young man laughed. His partner looked between them. “You know each other?” Vega looked at Birgitta. Birgitta looked at Vega. “Unfortunately,” they said together. The couple laughed. Vega stared at Birgitta. Birgitta stared back. Then Vega shook her head and continued toward the rooms. Mandi looked delighted. “Oh, you're fitting in horribly.” “Thank you.” “That wasn't a compliment.” “I accepted it as one.” Dalia laughed quietly. Birgitta glanced at her. Dalia was still holding Deja's leash. Deja had moved closer while Birgitta wasn't watching. Not pressed against her. Simply within easy reach. Dalia's fingers occasionally touched Deja's wrist. A little grounding contact. Birgitta wondered whether that was for Deja or Dalia. Probably both. She didn't ask. Some things were more useful observed than interrogated. --- Nova left next. Solo booking. Woman. Mid-fifties. Beautiful silver hair that looked natural until she turned her head and a line of microscopic lights moved through it like stars. Nova's approach was quieter than Vega's. Less teasing. The woman spoke. Nova listened. They moved away from the main cluster to talk. Five minutes. Maybe more. Then the woman touched Nova's hand. Nova turned hers over. Palm to palm. Payment followed. They left together. Birgitta watched them go. Mandi appeared beside her again. “Four.” Birgitta looked at her. “What?” Mandi held up four fingers. “You have three.” “Are you counting your bookings at me?” “Yes.” “Why?” “Because I have four.” Birgitta stared. “You're actually competing with me.” “No.” “You just walked over here specifically to tell me you're ahead.” “Professional information.” “Bullshit.” Mandi grinned. Birgitta shook her head. “You have been doing this longer.” “Excuses.” “I started tonight.” “More excuses.” “I hate you.” “Get four.” Birgitta laughed. Mandi walked away looking unbearably pleased with herself. Deja called after her: “You're going to regret this.” Mandi turned while walking backward. “No, I'm not.” Dalia said: “You will.” Mandi pointed at both of them. “Traitors.” Then she turned around and nearly walked directly into a passing full-conversion man whose upper body had been sculpted into something broad, scaled and unmistakably reptilian. He stopped. Mandi stopped. They looked at each other. “Sorry,” Mandi said. “No problem.” He continued. Mandi looked back at the group. Nobody said anything. Birgitta bit the inside of her cheek. Vega wasn't there. Nova wasn't there. That left Deja. Deja lasted two seconds. “You were saying?” Mandi raised one finger. “Fuck you.” Deja laughed. Night City continued around them. --- Birgitta didn't go hunting for number four. That became important. She could have. There were enough people on Jig-Jig. Enough glances. Enough interest in the new girl. She had begun recognizing the difference between casual looking and someone considering an approach. She could have encouraged one. Didn't. Not because she wanted to lose Mandi's ridiculous competition. Because she wanted the next booking to be interesting. The realization arrived quietly. She didn't need _strange._ Didn't need escalation. Didn't need something nobody else would take. But after Emil and his partner, she'd discovered she enjoyed a little complexity. Something to understand. A person or combination that didn't arrive already shaped like a standard transaction. Maybe that was Reyes. Problem-solving. Pattern recognition. Curiosity. Maybe Birgitta simply expressed the same instincts somewhere softer. That thought stayed with her. A pair passed. Two men. One looked at Birgitta. Then away. Not enough. A woman stopped near her, flirted for three minutes, then admitted she was waiting for someone else. Birgitta flirted back anyway. No booking. Fun conversation. Good enough. A heavily chromed man asked her rate. He heard twenty-five thousand and one, laughed, said he'd come back after robbing a bank. Birgitta wished him luck. Still no booking. And somehow she enjoyed that too. Every conversation didn't have to convert. That was another thing Suzie was probably watching. Birgitta hoped so. --- Vega returned first. The couple came out with her. The young man no longer looked terrified. At all. His partner looked enormously pleased with this development. She kissed Vega. Warm. Unhurried. Then stepped aside. The man looked at Vega. Hesitated. Vega opened her arms. He laughed and hugged her. Vega hugged him back. His partner smiled. No jealousy. No awkwardness. When they separated, Vega touched his cheek. “Better?” “Yes.” “Good.” He looked at his partner. She took his hand. They left together. Vega watched them disappear. Then turned. Birgitta was waiting. Vega pointed immediately. “Not one fucking word.” Birgitta smiled. “I was going to say you did well.” Vega stopped. “Oh.” “You did.” A beat. “Thanks.” Birgitta looked toward the departing couple. “You knew exactly when to stop teasing him.” Vega shrugged. “He needed to laugh until he didn't.” Birgitta looked at her. That was good. Very good. “You've done that before.” “Not them.” “I meant—” “I know.” Vega smiled. “People come in wound up. Sometimes you loosen them with sex. Sometimes you loosen them before you ever touch them.” Birgitta nodded. Filed it away. Vega noticed. “There. Thinking face.” “Fuck all of you.” Vega laughed. --- Nova returned later. Alone. Her client had apparently left through another exit. She looked calm. Satisfied. Vega immediately stepped closer. “How was she?” Nova smiled. “Lovely.” “That's it?” “That's all you get.” Vega gasped. “I'm your working partner.” “Exactly.” Perfect. Birgitta smiled. Nova caught it. “What?” “Nothing.” “Thinking face?” Birgitta stared at Vega. “You infected her.” Vega looked proud. Nova laughed. Then looked at Birgitta. “How many?” “Three.” Mandi called from farther away: “Still!” Birgitta turned. “Fuck you!” Mandi raised four fingers. Birgitta raised one. The eddie. Mandi grabbed her chest as if wounded. Nova looked between them. “When did this become a competition?” “It didn't,” Birgitta said. “Yes, it did,” Mandi called. “No, it didn't!” “Three!” “Twenty-five thousand and one!” “That isn't a number of bookings!” “It is a better number!” Vega leaned against Nova. “They're idiots.” Nova nodded. “Working partners agree.” And for one second Birgitta almost lost it. Not because the line was especially funny. Because Iris and Brenda were standing right there, perfectly inside Nova and Vega, agreeing as working partners about Ace and Reyes behaving like idiots— except Ace had no idea Reyes was present. The laugh escaped before Birgitta could stop it. Bright. Open. She bent slightly at the waist. Mandi stared. “What?” Birgitta shook her head. “Nothing.” “What?” “Nothing.” “You're laughing at me.” “Yes.” “Why?” “Because you're ridiculous.” “That's not an answer.” “It is tonight.” Mandi narrowed her eyes. Birgitta smiled. Still safe. Still Birgitta. --- Suzie Q appeared beside her ten minutes later. No warning. Birgitta had been watching Dalia say something quietly to Deja. Then Suzie was simply there. “Three.” Birgitta sighed. “You too?” Suzie's mouth twitched. “Mandi has been announcing the score.” “There is no score.” “Tell her.” “I have.” “How's the shift?” Birgitta looked at her. Real question. “Good.” “Clients?” “Good.” “You?” Birgitta paused. Suzie noticed. Of course. Birgitta answered honestly. “Better than expected.” “How much better?” Birgitta looked across Jig-Jig. At Mandi. At Nova and Vega. At Dalia and Deja. At strangers moving beneath neon. At doors opening and closing. At people arriving nervous and leaving lighter. Then back to Suzie. “I want another shift.” Suzie gave nothing away. “Tonight isn't over.” “I know.” “You've had three bookings.” “I know.” “Could be new-girl traffic.” “Mandi thinks so.” “Mandi likes annoying people.” “I noticed.” Suzie looked at her for another second. “What have you learned?” Birgitta smiled. “That Mandi is an asshole.” Suzie didn't blink. “Already knew that.” “Fair.” Birgitta considered the real answer. “That getting the booking isn't the difficult part.” Suzie's attention sharpened. “Go on.” “Anybody attractive enough can get looked at here.” “Mostly.” “Getting someone through the door isn't the work.” “What is?” Birgitta looked toward Vega. “Knowing what they're actually asking for.” Suzie waited. “And?” “Sometimes it isn't what they say first.” Suzie nodded once. Small. Birgitta continued. “And sometimes what looks unusual from outside makes perfect sense once you understand the people.” Another tiny nod. “And?” Birgitta laughed. “How many answers do you want?” “As many as you've got.” Birgitta thought again. Then: “I like it.” Suzie looked at her. Birgitta didn't soften it. “I really like it.” That answer seemed to interest Suzie more than the others. “Why?” Birgitta opened her mouth. Stopped. There were too many answers. Sex. Attention. Performance. Cover. Curiosity. People. The strange freedom of being someone nobody knew. The pleasure of doing something Reyes would never have expected herself to want. The impossible joy of standing beside people she loved while they evaluated her as a stranger. Most of those answers couldn't be given to Suzie. One could. “People surprise me.” Suzie looked around Jig-Jig. “They'll keep doing that.” “Good.” Suzie's eyes returned to her. “Finish the shift.” Birgitta smiled. “I intend to.” Suzie walked away. No verdict. No promise. Birgitta hadn't expected one. Still— something had changed. She felt it. Maybe only in herself. That was enough. --- Mandi wandered back. “Well?” Birgitta looked at her. “Well what?” “What did Suzie want?” “To ask whether you're always this annoying.” Mandi nodded seriously. “What did you tell her?” “That this is apparently a mild night.” “Good.” Mandi leaned against the rail beside her. For once, neither immediately spoke. Birgitta looked out at the crowd. Mandi did too. Then: “You're waiting.” Birgitta glanced at her. “For what?” “Something.” Birgitta smiled. “Maybe.” “Client four?” “Maybe.” Mandi looked at her. “You could get one.” “I know.” “You've turned down two.” “One.” “The guy asking your rate.” “He didn't ask.” “He would have.” “He said he needed to rob a bank.” “Details.” Birgitta laughed. Mandi's expression became more thoughtful. “You're picking.” “Of course.” “Not just clients.” Birgitta looked at her. Mandi tapped one finger against the rail. “Experiences.” That landed. Birgitta didn't answer immediately. Mandi smiled. “There. Thinking face.” Birgitta sighed. “I fucking hate that you've named it.” “I'm right.” “Unfortunately.” Mandi looked back at the crowd. “So?” Birgitta followed her gaze. “So what?” “What are you waiting for?” Birgitta thought about Emil. His partner watching. The way the dynamic had made sense only after she understood what both of them wanted. Tomas. Nervous. Needing permission to stop trying to perform correctly. Her first client. The shock of discovering that pleasure didn't become false just because money had changed hands. Different people. Different shapes. Different problems. Different pleasures. She smiled. “I'll know when I see it.” Mandi turned her head. For one moment, Mandi looked directly at Birgitta, never suspecting that Reyes was looking back. Then Mandi grinned. “That's either very confident or very stupid.” Birgitta smiled back. “Why choose?” Mandi laughed. And somewhere farther down Jig-Jig Street, something moved through the crowd that neither of them had noticed yet. --- # CHAPTER 12 — THE SHEPHERD Birgitta saw the handler first. Not because there was anything particularly remarkable about her. Quite the opposite. She looked almost aggressively ordinary by Jig-Jig standards. Tall woman. Maybe forty. Dark green jacket over a black shirt. Practical boots. Short brown hair. One visible interface port behind her left ear. No obvious weapons. No decorative chrome. She moved through the crowd with the easy confidence of someone who knew exactly where she was going. The man beside her was harder to miss. Much harder. Birgitta stopped talking. Mandi noticed. “What?” Birgitta didn't answer immediately. The full-conversion sculpt was spectacular. Male. Tall enough to put him comfortably above most of the crowd, though not absurdly so. Broad shoulders. Digitigrade legs. Dense black-and-tan fur following the unmistakable pattern of a German shepherd. Long muzzle. Mobile ears. Tail. Hands that remained functional enough for ordinary human interaction while carrying the visual language of paws farther than most practical conversions bothered to take it. The sculpt wasn't a costume. Wasn't cheap cosmetic work. Wasn't somebody wearing synthetic fur over a mostly human frame. The proportions had been rebuilt. Movement architecture too. Probably balance. Spine. Jaw. Face. Maybe far more. Expensive. Very expensive. And beautifully done. He was talking to the woman beside him. Normal conversation. Birgitta couldn't hear it. A pair of pedestrians moved aside to let them pass. One glanced at him. Then went back to her noodles. A courier nearly collided with his tail, apologized without stopping, and kept moving. The shepherd moved his tail out of the traffic lane. Night City. Mandi followed Birgitta's gaze. “Oh.” Birgitta looked at her. “Oh?” “Nice work.” That was all. Mandi was assessing the sculpt. Not the existence of it. Birgitta smiled. “Very.” “Custom.” “Obviously.” “Full neural remap, probably.” “You can tell?” “Look at his gait.” Birgitta did. Smooth. Nothing about the digitigrade movement looked learned around machinery. It looked native. “Yeah.” The woman and the shepherd kept coming. Not toward them specifically. Toward the premium section. Birgitta's curiosity sharpened. Mandi noticed that too. Of course she fucking did. “No.” Birgitta looked at her. “What?” “Thinking face.” “I'm going to start charging you every time you say that.” “Twenty-five thousand and one?” “Per occurrence.” “Expensive face.” “Premium face.” Mandi laughed. The pair stopped perhaps ten meters away. The woman looked across the available workers. Professional assessment. The shepherd did too. His eyes were brown. Completely ordinary brown. Somehow that made the rest of him more striking. Birgitta saw the woman speak quietly to him. He answered. She looked toward Mandi. Then Nova. Vega. Dalia. Deja. Birgitta. Back to the shepherd. Another short exchange. Then they started toward the group. Birgitta pushed away from the rail. Mandi murmured: “Well.” “What?” “You wanted interesting.” Birgitta smiled. “I didn't say that out loud.” “You didn't have to.” Dangerous woman. Birgitta was beginning to understand how Ace could be such a pain in the ass from the outside. She filed that thought somewhere Reyes would deny it later. The woman stopped in front of them. “Evening.” Mandi answered first. “Evening.” The shepherd smiled. It changed his entire face. Not human. Not trying to be. Still immediately readable. “Hi.” His voice was human. Deep. Warm. Slightly rough. Birgitta smiled. “Hi.” The woman looked at her. “Birgitta?” Of course. Birgitta sighed. “Does everyone know my name?” Mandi said: “New girl.” Birgitta pointed at her without looking away from the newcomers. “I'm going to hurt you.” The shepherd laughed. His ears moved. Actually moved. Birgitta's eyes flicked upward. Oh. That was delightful. The woman noticed. “So did he.” Birgitta looked at her. “What?” “First week after the sculpt. Mirrors.” The shepherd closed his eyes. “Please don't.” “You spent six days moving your ears at yourself.” “I had new ears.” “You were fascinated.” “I was learning.” “You were posing.” Mandi laughed. Birgitta liked them immediately. The woman offered her hand. “Katja.” Birgitta shook it. Then the shepherd offered his. “Jonas.” His hand was warm. Padded palm. Claws, but short and clearly maintained for ordinary life. Birgitta shook it exactly as she would anyone else's. “Birgitta.” Jonas smiled again. “I know.” “Apparently.” Katja looked between them. “We're looking for a booking.” Birgitta nodded. “All right.” “With you, if you're interested.” Mandi made a tiny sound beside her. Birgitta didn't look. Not yet. “What kind?” Katja glanced at Jonas. He answered. “Both of us.” Birgitta's eyebrows rose slightly. There. Interesting. Not because Jonas was a German shepherd. Because _handler_ apparently did not mean observer. Katja saw the question. “I'm his handler professionally.” “And?” “Partner personally.” Jonas added: “For twelve years.” Birgitta looked between them. “That's useful context.” Katja smiled. “We thought so.” “What are you looking for?” Jonas answered first. “Nothing particularly complicated.” Mandi coughed. Birgitta glanced at her. Mandi's face was perfectly innocent. Too innocent. Jonas looked between them. “Did I say something?” “No,” Birgitta said. “Yes,” Mandi said simultaneously. Birgitta looked at her. Mandi smiled. “Nothing important.” Katja laughed. Jonas's ears angled slightly outward. Birgitta had absolutely no idea what that meant. She wanted to know. Later. “What does uncomplicated mean to you?” Birgitta asked. Katja answered. “Shared booking. All three participating.” “Together?” “Yes.” “Any control dynamic attached to the handler thing?” “No.” Jonas said: “Absolutely not.” Fast answer. Birgitta nodded. “Good to know.” Katja smiled. “At work, she handles logistics, access, medical interfaces, sometimes communication if a venue isn't built for me.” Birgitta looked at Jonas. “You need a handler?” He shrugged. “Need is complicated. Legally, no. Practically, sometimes.” “Doors?” “Doors.” Katja said: “Chairs.” Jonas sighed. “Chairs.” “Cabs.” “Fuck cabs.” Birgitta laughed. Katja continued: “Restaurants.” “I fit in restaurants.” “You fit in some restaurants.” “That's a restaurant problem.” “Tail.” “Discrimination.” Mandi had given up pretending not to listen. She was openly smiling now. Birgitta looked at Jonas. “Anything I should know physically?” The question didn't bother him. Good. “Some human assumptions don't translate.” “Such as?” He explained. Briefly. Matter-of-factly. Nothing grotesque. Nothing treated as spectacle. Some parts of his body worked differently because his body _was_ different. Others remained closer to baseline human function than the sculpt suggested. Sensation had been extensively remapped. Certain areas were more sensitive. Some less. Balance mattered. His tail was fully sensory. His ears too. Katja filled in two practical details when he forgot them. Jonas corrected one of hers. They had clearly given this explanation before. Birgitta listened. Asked questions. Not many. Enough. Then she looked at Katja. “And you?” “Baseline enough that you'll find me boring after that briefing.” “I doubt it.” Katja's smile warmed. “Good answer.” “What do you want?” “Fun.” “Specific.” “Sex.” “Getting better.” Jonas laughed. Katja shrugged. “We've been together twelve years. We've done complicated. Tonight we don't want complicated.” Birgitta understood. “And you chose me because?” Jonas looked at Katja. Katja looked at Jonas. Then Katja answered: “We asked Suzie.” Birgitta blinked. That was new. “What did she say?” “That you're on your first shift.” Birgitta waited. “And?” Katja smiled. “That you're curious.” Oh. Birgitta looked across the floor. Suzie was nowhere visible. Of course. Mandi said quietly: “Interesting.” Birgitta looked at her. Mandi smiled. “Your word.” “Fuck you.” “Three bookings.” “Four if I take this.” Mandi's eyes narrowed. Birgitta smiled. Oh. That felt good. Mandi looked at Jonas and Katja. Then back to Birgitta. “You haven't taken it yet.” “No.” Jonas looked amused. “Are we part of a competition?” “No,” Birgitta said. “Yes,” Mandi said. “There is no competition.” “She's losing.” “I started tonight!” “Excuses.” Katja looked at Jonas. “I like this place.” Jonas nodded. “Same.” Birgitta ignored Mandi. Mostly. She looked at Katja. Then Jonas. Shared booking. Both participating. A body she had never encountered intimately before. A couple who seemed comfortable enough with each other to make the unusual part almost entirely technical. No drama. No performance of exoticism. No challenge. Just— different. Birgitta smiled. “I'm interested.” Jonas's ears lifted. There. That one she understood. Katja smiled. “Good.” “Rate is twenty-five thousand and one.” “For the booking?” Birgitta considered. Two active clients. Not an observer this time. “Each.” Katja nodded without blinking. Jonas said: “Reasonable.” Payment arrived. Fifty thousand and two. Birgitta's optics confirmed it. Mandi looked offended. “That counts as one.” Birgitta turned. “What?” “One booking.” “Two clients.” “One booking.” “Two rates.” “One door.” “That's not how numbers work.” “That is exactly how numbers work.” Birgitta pointed at Jonas and Katja. “Two.” Mandi held up four fingers. “Four bookings.” Birgitta held up four fingers. “Four clients.” “You had three clients before them.” “Emil's partner.” “Watched.” “Client-adjacent.” “That is not a thing.” “It is now.” Jonas looked at Katja. Katja looked back. Neither intervened. Wise. Birgitta finally laughed. “Fine. Four bookings.” Mandi smiled triumphantly. “Tied.” “For now.” “Oh, you're on.” “There was no competition.” “There is now.” Birgitta stared at her. Mandi grinned. Then— something beside Dalia moved. Not the leash. Deja. She had gone very, very still. Birgitta saw it. But the camera stayed where it belonged. On Jonas. He had turned toward something Katja said. One ear angled toward her. The other remained half-oriented toward Birgitta. Katja reached up casually and adjusted the edge of his jacket where it sat awkwardly against the dense fur at his shoulder. Jonas leaned slightly toward her touch. Comfortable. Familiar. His tail moved once behind him. Slow. Easy. Katja scratched briefly beneath his jaw. Jonas's eyes half-closed. Not sexual. Not performative. Just a partner touching a partner in a body where that particular touch happened to feel good. Birgitta watched with open curiosity. Jonas caught her. “What?” “Nothing.” “You're staring.” “Yes.” He laughed. “At least you're honest.” “I told you. New.” “Want to touch?” Birgitta looked at him. “Now?” “If you want.” Katja smiled. “He means the fur.” “I assumed.” Mandi coughed again. Birgitta turned. “Do you need medical attention?” “No.” “Then shut up.” Mandi smiled sweetly. Birgitta looked back at Jonas. “May I?” He stepped closer. “Sure.” Birgitta touched his forearm first. Dense. Warm. The fur was coarser along the outer arm than she expected. Softer beneath. Her fingers disappeared slightly into it. “Oh.” Jonas smiled. “Everyone says that.” “Shut up.” “New.” She ran her hand once along the fur. Professional curiosity had absolutely nothing to do with the second pass. Maybe thirty percent. Jonas laughed. His ears moved again. Birgitta looked up. “Can you do that deliberately?” “Yes.” “Independently?” “Yes.” “Both?” “Yes.” Birgitta's face lit. Jonas immediately demonstrated. Left. Right. Both forward. One forward, one sideways. Birgitta laughed. “That is fucking unfair.” “What?” “You have extra facial expressions.” “I paid enough for them.” “Fair.” Katja said: “Don't encourage him.” “Too late.” “He'll do the tail next.” Jonas looked offended. “I am not performing tricks.” Katja looked at Birgitta. “Ask him to wag.” “Katja.” Birgitta laughed harder. And only then— only after Jonas had been allowed to exist in the scene as Jonas— did the camera move. To Deja. Her eyes were enormous. Absolutely enormous. She was staring at Jonas. At Birgitta's hand still buried slightly in the fur of his forearm. At the ears. At the tail. Back to the ears. Her lips had parted. Dalia looked at her. Then followed her gaze. Jonas. Birgitta. Fur. Ears. Tail. Dalia looked back at Deja. Silence. Deja didn't notice. Dalia's expression changed by approximately one millimeter. That was enough. Oh. She knew. Birgitta didn't. Not yet. She was still talking to Jonas. “Okay, the ears are incredible.” “Thank you.” “Do people touch them without asking?” Jonas's expression flattened. “Yes.” “Assholes.” “Yes.” “Can I?” Jonas smiled again. “You ask a lot.” “Occupational hazard.” “Sure.” He lowered his head slightly. Birgitta reached up. Touched one ear carefully. Warm. Soft. More mobile beneath her fingers than she'd expected. Jonas's eyes closed for half a second. His ear flicked against her hand. Birgitta smiled. “Oh, that is adorable.” “I have killed people for less.” Katja said: “No, you haven't.” “I've considered it.” “Also no.” “Ruining my image.” Birgitta laughed. Across the floor, Deja made a tiny sound. Dalia heard it. Nobody else did. Dalia looked at her. Deja finally noticed. Their eyes met. Dalia said nothing. Deja looked toward Jonas again. Then back. Dalia's eyebrows rose. Barely. Deja's expression became very carefully neutral. Too late. Much too late. Dalia smiled. Slowly. Deja swallowed. Birgitta was still scratching lightly at the base of Jonas's ear when she happened to glance toward them. She saw Dalia first. The smile. Then Deja. The stare. Then Deja looked away far too quickly. Birgitta's hand stopped. Interesting. Jonas opened one eye. “Something wrong?” Birgitta looked back at him. “No.” She resumed. Deja looked again. Oh. Oh, really? Reyes knew Kiro. Reyes knew that face. Birgitta had never seen Deja make it before. But Reyes knew. Interest. Not mild. Not academic. Not _nice sculpt._ Deja looked like someone had just discovered a previously undocumented personal weakness in real time. Birgitta nearly smiled. Nearly. That would be dangerous. Instead she kept scratching Jonas behind the ear as though she had noticed absolutely nothing. His eyes closed again. His tail moved once. Deja's gaze followed it. Jesus Christ. Birgitta bit the inside of her cheek. Dalia saw that too. Not Birgitta's reaction. Deja's. Dalia shifted the leash in her hand. The tiny metallic sound reached Deja. Her eyes snapped back. Dalia gave one small pull. Come here. Deja came. Immediately. Dalia leaned close enough that whatever she said didn't carry. Deja answered. Dalia's smile widened. Deja looked betrayed. Birgitta wanted desperately to know what had been said. Couldn't. Birgitta wasn't supposed to know Deja well enough to care. So she turned back to Jonas. “Ready?” Jonas opened his eyes. “For the booking?” “Yes.” He looked at Katja. Katja nodded. “Ready.” Birgitta withdrew her hand from his ear. Jonas straightened. She looked at both of them. Then toward the rooms. “Let's go.” Katja took Jonas's hand. Birgitta walked beside them. They passed Dalia and Deja. Deja behaved perfectly. Almost. Her eyes remained on Birgitta. Then Jonas. Then Birgitta again. Jonas smiled politely at her. Deja smiled back. Perfectly normal. Birgitta kept walking. Three steps. Four. Five. She did not look back. Reyes was laughing inside her own skull. Not because Jonas was ridiculous. He wasn't. Not because Deja's interest was ridiculous either. It wasn't. Because Kiro— controlled, observant, impossible Kiro— apparently had a fucking German shepherd button. And Dalia had found it. Worse: Reyes had found it too. Deja had absolutely no idea. Birgitta reached the door. Katja went through first. Jonas followed. Birgitta put one hand on the frame. Then glanced back once. Deja was still watching. Dalia tugged the leash. Deja looked at her. Dalia shook her head. Once. Not yet. Deja's shoulders dropped. Barely. Birgitta disappeared into the room before her smile could betray her. --- # CHAPTER 13 — DIFFERENT The door closed. For perhaps two seconds, nobody moved. Then Jonas looked around the room. “Good.” Birgitta glanced at him. “Good?” “Space.” Katja laughed. “Remember the hotel in Heywood?” Jonas's ears flattened. “I was trying not to.” Birgitta looked between them. “What happened?” “Bed against one wall,” Katja said. “Table against the other,” Jonas added. “Twenty centimeters between.” “Thirty.” “Twenty-five.” Jonas looked at her. “You measured?” “I was your handler.” “You were laughing.” “I can multitask.” Birgitta smiled. “And?” Jonas pointed behind himself. “Tail.” “Oh.” “Exactly.” Katja was already laughing. “He knocked everything off the table.” “One glass.” “Two glasses.” “One glass and a lamp.” “The lamp was on the table.” “That doesn't make it a glass.” Birgitta laughed. Jonas looked at her. “You see what I live with.” “Twelve years.” “Twelve very long years.” Katja stepped close and kissed the side of his muzzle. His expression softened immediately. “Liar.” “Completely.” Birgitta watched. Not clinically. Not exactly. The difference mattered. Outside, she'd been interested in the sculpt. How it moved. How sensation worked. What assumptions wouldn't transfer. Here, with the door closed, she was looking at two people who had done this before. Not necessarily this exact booking. But each other. They knew where to stand without discussing it. Katja knew how close she could move beside Jonas without catching his tail. Jonas turned slightly when she crossed behind him. Neither appeared conscious of doing it. Twelve years. Of course. Birgitta leaned back against the door. “So.” Both looked at her. “You said uncomplicated.” Jonas nodded. “Yes.” “And all three participating.” “Yes.” Katja smiled. “You're still deciding?” Birgitta considered that. “No.” She had decided outside. “But I am still learning.” Jonas's ears shifted forward. “About me.” “Mostly.” “Fair.” Birgitta pushed away from the door. “Tell me if I make a bad assumption.” “I will.” “Immediately.” “Yes.” “And don't let me keep doing something just because I'm supposed to be the professional.” Jonas smiled. “Deal.” Birgitta looked at Katja. “Same.” “Deal.” Good. That was enough. No form. No checklist. No ceremony. Three adults in a room. Birgitta walked toward them. Katja met her halfway. That surprised her. Not badly. Katja stopped close. “May I?” Birgitta smiled. “Yes.” Katja kissed her. Directly. No hesitation. Warm mouth. One hand at Birgitta's waist. The other touched her jaw. Birgitta kissed her back. And immediately understood something else about the pair. Katja wasn't here to facilitate Jonas. She wasn't an accessory to his booking. She wanted Birgitta too. Good. Very good. Birgitta's hands found Katja's hips. Katja drew her closer. The kiss deepened. Behind them, Jonas said: “I feel excluded.” Katja didn't stop kissing Birgitta. Birgitta raised one hand and held up a finger. Wait. Jonas made an offended sound. Birgitta smiled against Katja's mouth. Katja laughed. Then pulled back. “She's mean.” “I noticed.” Birgitta turned toward Jonas. He was watching them. Ears forward. Tail moving slowly. His expression was readable enough now that Birgitta didn't need a technical briefing. Interested. Very. She crooked one finger. Jonas stared at it. Then at her. “Seriously?” Birgitta smiled. “Come here.” He did. Katja moved to one side. Jonas stopped in front of Birgitta. Up close, the physical difference became more obvious. Not frightening. Simply unfamiliar. His chest was broad. The line of his shoulders changed beneath the fur. His center of balance sat differently. Even standing still, he occupied space in a way a baseline human body didn't. Birgitta put both hands against his chest. Warm. Very warm. Jonas looked down at her. “Still curious?” “Yes.” “Good.” She kissed him. Or tried to. Then stopped. Jonas smiled. Birgitta stared at his muzzle. “All right.” Katja laughed behind her. “Problem?” “Geometry.” Jonas started laughing. “Welcome to my life.” Birgitta put one hand behind his neck. “Shut up.” “Make me.” “Oh, fuck you.” “That is the booking.” Katja made a delighted noise. Birgitta pointed at her. “Don't encourage him.” “Too late.” Birgitta looked back at Jonas. Then tried again. Different angle. Different pressure. Different everything. Not impossible. Just not automatic. Her first attempt was awkward. Jonas didn't pretend otherwise. “That was terrible.” Birgitta pulled back. “Fuck you.” “You're learning.” “Again.” Second attempt. Better. Still strange. Jonas adjusted. Birgitta adjusted with him. Third— there. Not a human kiss translated badly onto a different face. Something that worked for the face actually in front of her. When she pulled away, Jonas's eyes were warm. “Much better.” Birgitta smiled. “Fast learner.” Katja said: “Told you.” Birgitta looked at her. “You knew?” “She asked good questions.” Jonas nodded. “That helps.” Birgitta's hand moved up into the fur at the side of his neck. He leaned slightly into it. She remembered the ear. Interesting. She scratched lightly beneath the base. Jonas's eyes closed. There it was again. Katja laughed. “Oh, you're fucked.” Jonas opened one eye. “Quiet.” Birgitta smiled. “Sensitive?” “Yes.” “Good sensitive?” “Yes.” “Too much?” “No.” She continued. Jonas's head lowered fractionally. His entire body relaxed. Birgitta looked at Katja. Katja looked enormously entertained. “You've discovered the shortcut.” “I have.” Jonas's eyes opened. “There is no shortcut.” Birgitta scratched slightly harder. His eyes closed again. Katja folded her arms. “Compelling argument.” Jonas muttered something. Birgitta couldn't understand it. She laughed. Then Katja moved behind Birgitta. Hands settled at her waist. Birgitta felt the fast-drop release beneath one of them. Katja stopped. Waited. Birgitta turned her head. “Yes.” One movement. The elegant black dress released. Fabric dropped away. Katja inhaled. Jonas opened his eyes. Both stared. Birgitta smiled. “The clothes lie.” Katja looked at the dress on the floor. “Apparently.” Jonas's gaze traveled back up. “That's unfair.” “What?” “You looked almost conservative.” “Almost?” “The price ruined it.” Birgitta laughed. Katja's hands moved over her now without fabric between. Slow. Exploratory. Birgitta leaned back against her. Jonas remained in front. For a few moments nobody hurried. That was becoming one of Birgitta's favorite discoveries. Money bought time. But it didn't have to make time feel expensive. Jonas touched her carefully. His hands were different. Pads. Claws. Heat. He knew exactly where the claws were. Exactly how to angle them away. Birgitta watched his hand move over her side. Fascinated. Then felt Katja kiss her neck. Her attention split. Good. She let it. Jonas's touch became more confident when Birgitta responded. Katja's mouth moved slowly along her shoulder. Birgitta reached backward, found Katja's hip, pulled her closer. Katja laughed softly against her skin. Jonas leaned down. This kiss worked immediately. Learning went both ways. Birgitta smiled into it. His hand settled at her waist. Katja's remained on the other side. Held between them— no. Not held. Included. There was a difference. Birgitta felt it. And liked it. --- Jonas's jacket came off first. Birgitta helped. Then stopped halfway because the construction around his shoulders was unlike anything she'd handled before. Jonas looked at her. “Problem?” “Your clothes are weird.” “My body is weird.” “Different.” His expression changed. Small. Birgitta noticed. “Important distinction?” “Yes.” “Then different.” Jonas smiled. Katja watched them. Quiet now. Birgitta worked out the fastening. The jacket came free. Underneath, the sculpt continued exactly as expected. No hidden human torso beneath cosmetic fur. No illusion ending at the clothing line. Full conversion. Complete commitment. Birgitta ran her hands slowly over his shoulders. Jonas let her. She felt structure beneath the fur. Muscle. Reinforcement. Things she couldn't identify. “Victor would spend three hours asking questions.” Katja smiled. “You know Victor?” Birgitta's brain stopped. Half a beat. Too much. Careful. “Who doesn't?” Katja accepted it immediately. Of course. Victor Vektor wasn't exactly obscure in the circles that could afford bodies like Jonas's. Jonas said: “He'd like the spinal work.” “Probably.” Birgitta moved on before the thought could linger. Katja's jacket followed. Then shirt. Baseline enough, she'd said. True. But boring? Not remotely. Birgitta turned toward her. “You lied.” Katja raised an eyebrow. “About?” “Boring.” Jonas said: “She does that.” Katja looked at him. “Careful.” Birgitta kissed her before she could answer. Katja responded instantly. Jonas's hand touched Birgitta's back. Then Katja's. All three drew closer. This time nobody joked. For a while. There was too much else to do. --- The bed was large enough. Barely. Jonas tested it first. Katja rolled her eyes. “He always does that.” “I have broken furniture.” “Twice.” “Three times.” Katja looked at him. “You never told me about the third.” Jonas froze. Birgitta burst out laughing. Katja pointed. “We're discussing that later.” “Can we have sex first?” “Yes.” “Excellent.” Birgitta was still laughing when Katja pulled her onto the bed. Jonas joined them carefully. The mattress shifted beneath his weight. Birgitta adjusted. So did Katja. Then the humor softened into something warmer. Hands. Mouths. Fur beneath Birgitta's palms. Katja's skin against hers. Jonas's unfamiliar body gradually becoming less unfamiliar by the minute. Birgitta asked when she needed to. Jonas answered. Sometimes Katja answered first. Sometimes Jonas told her she was wrong. Once Birgitta tried something that made Jonas jerk away immediately. She stopped. “Bad?” “Too sensitive.” “Sorry.” “No harm.” “Here instead?” He guided her hand. “Yes.” She learned. No embarrassment. No drama. Different. That was all. When Jonas touched her in return, he was careful without being timid. He had lived in this body long enough to know exactly how much of himself was strength and how much was precision. Birgitta stopped thinking about the claws. Then remembered them when one traced lightly enough along her side to raise goosebumps without scratching. “Oh.” Jonas smiled. “Good?” “Yes.” Katja leaned over Birgitta. “Told you he knows what he's doing.” Birgitta looked at her. “Twelve years?” “Practice.” Jonas said: “She trained me.” Katja stared at him. Birgitta laughed. Jonas's ears went sideways. “I regret that sentence.” “You should.” Katja kissed Birgitta. Jonas kissed the side of her neck. The room became quieter again. Warmer. Closer. Birgitta let herself stop studying. That was harder than she'd expected. Reyes wanted to map everything. Birgitta wanted to feel it. Tonight, Birgitta won. --- They didn't rush the decisive choice. Katja was the first to ask. Not because anything was wrong. Because three people required more communication than two. “What do you want?” Birgitta looked at her. Then Jonas. Interesting. She had spent the entire booking learning their bodies and rhythm. Now they were asking for hers. Birgitta smiled. “You first.” Katja understood. Moved closer. Birgitta met her. Their bodies settled together naturally, baseline familiarity requiring far less translation than Jonas had. They kissed. Touched. Found the shape quickly. Jonas remained close. Participating. Hands moving between them. Mouth finding skin. Never becoming spectator. Birgitta felt Katja's pleasure build beneath her hands. Responded to it. Katja answered hers. The pace grew. Not hurried. Certain. Birgitta's bright voice sounded strange to Reyes somewhere far beneath everything. Then even that thought disappeared. There was no Reyes watching from behind glass. Only Birgitta. Katja gasped against her mouth. Birgitta smiled. “Good?” “Yes.” Jonas said: “She's very articulate.” Katja reached blindly and pushed at his muzzle. He laughed. Birgitta laughed too. The laughter broke the rhythm. Then made the next kiss better. They continued. Katja's first release came quietly. A long breath. Body tightening. Forehead against Birgitta's. Birgitta stayed with her. Didn't immediately move away. Jonas's hand settled at Katja's back. For several breaths the three remained connected. Then Katja opened her eyes. “Your turn.” Birgitta smiled. “Bossy.” “Efficient.” Jonas said: “She gets like this.” Katja pointed at him. “You're next.” His ears lifted. Birgitta laughed. --- With Jonas, the transition required more thought. Not fear. Geometry again. His body simply didn't obey every baseline-human assumption. So they talked. Moved. Adjusted. Katja helped once. Jonas corrected her. She told him to fuck off. He told her she was a terrible handler. Birgitta laughed until the nervousness she hadn't realized she possessed disappeared completely. Then they found what worked. Jonas looked at her. “Sure?” Birgitta nodded. “Yes.” He entered her carefully. Different. Very. Birgitta's breath stopped for one sharp second. Jonas stopped too. “Okay?” She felt. Actually felt. No performance. No need to prove curiosity. Then smiled. “Yes.” Jonas remained still. “Still yes?” Birgitta laughed softly. “Still yes.” Only then did he move. Slow. Controlled. Birgitta's hands found his shoulders. Fur beneath her fingers. Katja stayed close beside them. One hand on Jonas. One on Birgitta. The first few movements were almost entirely learning. Angle. Balance. Pressure. Birgitta adjusted. Jonas adjusted faster. Then— there. Pleasure replaced analysis. Birgitta's grip tightened. Jonas saw it. Felt it. Repeated the movement. Birgitta's eyes closed. “Oh.” Katja smiled. “There?” Birgitta nodded. “Yes.” Jonas did it again. The next sound escaped her without permission. Bright voice. Higher than Reyes would ever have sounded. Birgitta didn't care. Katja kissed her. Jonas kept the rhythm. Three bodies. Different shapes. No spectacle. No challenge. Just sex. Good sex. Increasingly very good sex. Birgitta opened her eyes. Jonas was watching her. Not Katja. Not himself. Her. Exactly as she had watched her own clients all night. Reading. Learning. Adjusting. That realization made her smile. “What?” Jonas asked. “Nothing.” “Thinking face?” Birgitta froze. Katja looked confused. Jonas smiled. “Mandi said it outside.” Birgitta groaned. “Oh, fuck both of you.” Katja laughed. Jonas's rhythm broke with his own laughter. Birgitta grabbed the fur at his shoulders. “Don't you dare stop.” His ears came forward. “Yes, ma'am.” He continued. Birgitta immediately regretted encouraging him. Then stopped regretting anything at all. The rhythm strengthened. Katja's hand moved with them. Birgitta's pleasure climbed. Jonas's control began to fray. She could feel it. See it in his ears. His breathing. The way his hands held her. Katja saw it too. She touched the side of his face. “Easy.” Jonas looked at her. Something passed between them. Twelve years. Birgitta didn't need to understand every word of it. He steadied. Then continued. Not less intense. More controlled. Birgitta trusted it. That mattered. Her own release arrived before his. Built gradually until there was nowhere else for it to go. Birgitta held Jonas close. Katja's mouth was against her shoulder. The pleasure broke through her hard enough to steal the bright voice completely for several seconds. She stayed there. Body tight. Hands buried in fur. Then slowly relaxed. Jonas didn't move away. Katja didn't either. Stillness. Again. Birgitta was beginning to understand why that mattered so much. The moment after. When nobody needed anything. When the transaction temporarily ceased to exist. Jonas rested his forehead carefully against hers. Katja's hand remained warm against Birgitta's side. Nobody spoke. Birgitta breathed. Once. Twice. Three times. Then Jonas whispered: “Still curious?” Birgitta started laughing. “Asshole.” Katja laughed against her shoulder. Jonas grinned. His tail moved once against the bed. Birgitta felt it. And laughed harder. --- They didn't leave immediately. Of course they didn't. Katja lay on her back. Birgitta beside her. Jonas partly across the foot of the bed because apparently even a large bed had opinions about German shepherd geometry. Birgitta had one hand in the fur behind his ear. She wasn't entirely sure when that had happened. Jonas wasn't complaining. Quite the opposite. His eyes were closed. Katja looked over. “You've ruined him.” Birgitta kept scratching. “He seems fine.” “He'll expect that now.” “Sounds like your problem.” Jonas murmured: “I can hear both of you.” Katja ignored him. “He'll follow you home.” Jonas opened one eye. “I have dignity.” Birgitta scratched slightly lower. His eye closed again. Katja smiled. “Clearly.” Birgitta laughed. This was— nice. That was almost absurdly inadequate. But true. She had expected interesting. Maybe challenging. Definitely educational. She hadn't expected comfortable. Jonas opened his eyes eventually. “Can I ask you something?” “Sure.” “Why us?” Birgitta looked at him. “What?” “You could have said no.” “So?” “Some do.” Katja's expression quieted. Birgitta understood. Not rejection as trauma. Not a sob story. Just fact. Some people weren't interested. Some weren't comfortable. Some bodies fell outside some people's attraction. That was allowed. Birgitta considered her answer. “Because I wanted to.” Jonas waited. “That simple?” “Yes.” Katja smiled. Birgitta looked at Jonas. “You're different from anyone I've been with.” His ears moved slightly. “But different isn't the same as wrong.” “No.” “And I was curious.” Jonas smiled. “There it is.” “What?” “Curious.” Birgitta shrugged. “I like learning things.” Katja looked at her. “You liked more than learning.” Birgitta smiled. “Yes.” No reason to lie. “I did.” Jonas's tail moved. Birgitta saw it. Then looked at him. He looked innocent. She narrowed her eyes. “Did you just wag?” “No.” Katja said: “Yes.” “Traitor.” Birgitta laughed. Then scratched behind his ear again. Jonas closed his eyes. Absolutely no dignity whatsoever. --- Eventually they dressed. Katja first. Birgitta second. Jonas last, because his jacket required the ridiculous shoulder fastening. Birgitta helped this time. She knew how now. Jonas noticed. “Fast learner.” “I've heard.” Katja looked at Birgitta's dress. “So how does that thing work?” Birgitta smiled. “Trade secret.” “You dropped it in one movement.” “Yes.” “And now it looks like that again.” “Yes.” “Fuck.” “Lena.” Katja nodded. “That explains it.” Good. No dangerous follow-up. Jonas adjusted his sleeve. Then looked at Birgitta. “Again sometime?” Birgitta didn't hesitate. “Yes.” Katja smiled. “Both?” “Yes.” Jonas looked pleased. Birgitta pointed at him. “But next time I'm charging extra for ear scratches.” His ears went sideways. Katja burst out laughing. “How much?” Birgitta considered. “One eddie.” Jonas stared. “That's insulting.” “Premium ear-scratch package.” “Twenty-five thousand and one for sex, one for ears?” “Exactly.” Katja was laughing too hard to help. Jonas opened the door. “I hate this place.” “No, you don't,” Birgitta said. He looked back. “No.” He smiled. “I really don't.” --- They stepped onto Jig-Jig Street. The sound returned first. Music. Voices. Traffic farther away. Advertisements talking over each other. Night City flowing around the narrow strip as though nothing remotely remarkable had happened behind the door. Because nothing had. Three adults had booked a room. That was all. Katja stopped outside. Jonas beside her. Birgitta faced them. Katja hugged her first. Birgitta returned it. Then Jonas opened his arms. Birgitta looked up at him. “Is this safe for my spine?” “Probably.” “Reassuring.” He hugged her. Carefully. Warm fur against her cheek. Birgitta laughed and hugged him back. When they separated, Jonas didn't immediately move. His head remained close. Birgitta looked at him. Then at one ear. Oh. Why not? She reached up. Scratched behind it. Jonas's eyes closed. His head tilted toward her hand. A slow, deeply satisfied smile spread across his face. His tail moved. Once. Twice. Birgitta smiled too. Warm. Completely unforced. And this time— the camera stayed. Jonas enjoying the touch. Birgitta enjoying his reaction. Her fingers moving gently through the fur behind his ear. Katja beside them, watching with affectionate amusement. A strange-looking tableau only if someone insisted on making it strange. Night City didn't. The street moved around them. A vendor shouted about noodles. A bike accelerated somewhere beyond the corner. Two women walked past arguing about rent. Jonas's ear flicked beneath Birgitta's fingers. She laughed softly. Only then did the camera turn. Deja. Oh. Fuck. Her eyes were enormous. Again. Worse now. Much worse. She was staring at Birgitta's hand. At Jonas leaning into it. At the tail. At his closed eyes. At Birgitta's very satisfied smile. Deja looked like somebody had placed the answer to a question she had never dared ask directly in front of her. Dalia stood beside her. Holding the leash. Watching Deja. Not Jonas. Deja. Dalia followed her gaze only after several seconds. Birgitta. Jonas. Ear scratches. Tail. Back to Deja. Dalia's mouth curved. Slowly. Dangerously. Deja noticed. “No.” Dalia said nothing. “Don't.” Still nothing. “Dalia.” Dalia's smile widened. Deja looked back at Jonas despite herself. Birgitta scratched once more. Jonas's tail moved. Deja swallowed. Dalia leaned closer. “Interesting.” Deja closed her eyes. “Fuck you.” “Not your decision tonight.” Deja's eyes opened. Oh. That landed. Birgitta couldn't hear the words from where she stood. But she saw Deja's expression. Saw Dalia's. Saw the leash. And Reyes knew enough to reconstruct approximately none of the sentence and all of the meaning. She almost laughed. Couldn't. Not safely. So Birgitta gave Jonas one last scratch. “Go.” He opened his eyes. “Cruel.” “Apparently.” Katja took his hand. “Come on.” Jonas looked at Birgitta. “Next time.” “Next time.” They walked away. Birgitta watched them disappear into the crowd. Then turned. Deja was still looking after them. Dalia gave the leash a tiny pull. Deja looked at her. Birgitta walked back toward the group. Bright smile. Perfectly innocent. Mandi reached her first. “Well?” Birgitta stopped. “Four.” Mandi stared. Birgitta held up four fingers. “Tied.” Mandi narrowed her eyes. “How was it?” Birgitta glanced once toward Deja. Deja immediately looked away. Oh, this was going to be fun. Birgitta looked back at Mandi. “Interesting.” Mandi groaned. “Of course it was.” Birgitta smiled. Dalia said nothing. Deja said absolutely nothing. And Reyes, safely hidden inside Birgitta, discovered that maintaining a cover while trying not to laugh at one of her closest friends might be the hardest professional challenge she'd faced all night. --- # CHAPTER 14 — FOUR “Interesting.” Mandi stared at Birgitta. “That is not a review.” “It is absolutely a review.” “You say everything is interesting.” “Not everything.” “Name one thing tonight that wasn't.” Birgitta considered. Mandi waited. Nova waited. Vega waited. Dalia waited. Deja very deliberately looked somewhere else. “The noodles.” Vega frowned. “You didn't eat the noodles.” “Exactly.” “That doesn't count.” “Then everything has been interesting.” Mandi threw up both hands. “Hopeless.” Birgitta leaned against the rail. “Four.” Mandi's attention snapped back. “You're really doing this?” “You started it.” “I did not.” “You came over specifically to tell me you had four.” “Professional information.” “Bullshit.” “Accurate professional information.” Birgitta held up four fingers. Mandi held up four. Nova looked between them. “This is stupid.” “Yes,” Vega said. “Very.” Mandi pointed at Birgitta. “She made it stupid.” Birgitta laughed. “You're unbelievable.” “Twenty-five thousand.” “One.” Mandi's black eyes narrowed. Birgitta smiled sweetly. “Eddie.” “Bitch.” “New girl.” Vega laughed. Nova covered her mouth. Dalia smiled. Deja— Deja glanced down the street. Once. Casual enough. Jonas and Katja had disappeared into the crowd several minutes ago. There was nothing left to see. Deja looked anyway. Then caught herself. Birgitta looked away before anything reached her face. Oh, this was magnificent. Reyes knew Kiro. She knew the difference between Kiro noticing an attractive person and Kiro becoming fascinated. She knew the little stillness that happened when Kiro's attention narrowed hard enough to shut out half the room. She knew exactly what she had seen. Deja had spent half of Jonas's departure trying not to stare. And Deja had absolutely no idea Reyes had been standing close enough to notice every second of it. Birgitta couldn't enjoy that too visibly. That was the difficult part. Dalia looked at Deja. Deja felt it. “What?” “Nothing.” “That wasn't nothing.” “I didn't say anything.” “You're smiling.” “I smile.” “Not like that.” Dalia's smile widened. Deja sighed. Birgitta bit the inside of her cheek. Mandi turned toward her. “There.” Birgitta froze. “What?” “The face.” “No.” “Yes.” “There is no face.” “You're trying not to laugh.” “At you.” “I haven't done anything.” “Existing is enough.” Mandi considered that. “Fair.” Birgitta laughed. Saved by the truth. Mostly. --- A woman approached Mandi from the side. Birgitta recognized her. Tall. Black hair shaved close along one side, the rest falling almost to her waist. No visible facial chrome. Her right arm was polished silver from shoulder to fingertips, deliberately mechanical and beautifully made. Mandi had left with her earlier. The woman stopped in front of her. “Again.” Mandi blinked. “Tonight?” “Yes.” Birgitta's eyebrows rose. Mandi saw them. “Don't.” Birgitta put both hands behind her back. “I didn't say anything.” The woman looked at Birgitta. Then Mandi. “Friend?” Mandi laughed. “I met her tonight.” Birgitta smiled. “She's obsessed with me.” “I am not.” “She keeps counting my bookings.” The woman's mouth twitched. “Competition?” “No,” Mandi said. “Yes,” Birgitta said. Mandi turned. “You said there wasn't one.” “I've reconsidered.” “Bitch.” The woman laughed. “Should I come back?” And there it was again. Mandi changed. Not completely. The humor stayed in her eyes. But the woman in front of her suddenly had all of her attention. “No.” Mandi stepped closer. “You want another full hour?” “Yes.” “Same as before?” The woman's eyes moved briefly toward the others. Then back. “Almost.” Mandi caught it immediately. “What changes?” “Private.” Mandi nodded. “Then we talk inside.” Payment transferred. Mandi glanced at Birgitta. Held up five fingers. Birgitta stared. “You petty little—” Mandi walked away smiling. The woman looked back once, amused. Birgitta raised four fingers after them. Without turning around, Mandi raised five. Birgitta gasped. “She didn't even look!” Vega folded over laughing. “She knew.” “That's cheating.” Nova said: “You're losing.” Birgitta turned on her. “Whose side are you on?” Nova glanced at Vega. “My working partner's.” Vega blinked. “What does that have to do with anything?” “Nothing.” “Excellent.” They bumped shoulders. Birgitta laughed. God, they were good. Not because they looked alike. The face work took care of enough of that. Not because they constantly announced themselves as working partners. They didn't. It was the ease. The little irritations. The automatic proximity. The complete absence of anything that asked to be examined too closely. If Birgitta hadn't already known— She stopped that thought. She did know. That was the point. And tonight she had the bizarre privilege of watching Iris and Brenda build two people in front of her while neither realized Reyes was there to appreciate the work. That was worth keeping quiet for all by itself. --- Dalia had moved two steps. Enough to place herself directly in front of Deja. Deja leaned against the rail. Dalia stood between her and the direction Jonas had disappeared. Subtle. Cruel. Beautiful. Birgitta noticed. Of course she noticed. Dalia's eyes flicked toward her. Birgitta immediately turned to Nova. “How long have you two been doing this?” Nova smiled. “Together?” “Yeah.” “Not long.” Vega joined them. “Feels longer.” “You're annoying,” Nova said. “Partner.” “That doesn't contradict me.” Birgitta laughed. “How did you start?” Vega glanced at Nova. “She wanted to.” Nova stared. “You wanted to.” “I was supportive.” “You were unbearable.” “Supportively unbearable.” “That isn't a thing.” “It worked.” Birgitta smiled. That sounded so painfully familiar that she had to be careful. Not the words. The rhythm. Brenda pushing. Iris pretending Brenda hadn't pushed quite as effectively as she had. Birgitta could almost hear their real voices beneath the altered ones. She kept smiling. Nothing more. Behind her, Dalia said something too quietly to catch. Deja answered. Birgitta didn't turn. She wanted to. That was almost funny in itself. Reyes had spent years training herself to notice everything. Footsteps. Breathing. Weapons shifting beneath clothes. Changes in voice. Someone approaching from behind. Now she was standing on Jig-Jig Street deliberately refusing to listen to two people she knew intimately because Birgitta had no reason to care about their private conversation. It felt like trying not to use one of her hands. Vega looked at her. “What?” Birgitta blinked. “What?” “You disappeared for a second.” “No, I didn't.” “You did.” “Thinking.” “About?” Birgitta looked at Nova. “Whether she's right about you.” Nova answered immediately. “She is.” Vega looked betrayed. “Wow.” Birgitta laughed. Good. Easy. Nothing to see. --- A few minutes later Dalia and Deja came back. Dalia still held the leash. Deja looked composed again. Perfectly so. Almost. Dalia stopped beside Birgitta. “How was it?” Birgitta knew exactly what she meant. “Very good.” “With both?” “Yes.” Deja looked at her. Birgitta let herself meet the look. Nothing unusual about that. They had all watched her leave with Jonas and Katja. Dalia asked: “Would you take them again?” “Yes.” Immediate. Deja's eyes changed. Barely. Dalia saw it. Birgitta saw Dalia see it. This was becoming dangerous for entirely stupid reasons. Dalia smiled. “What did you like?” Birgitta laughed. “Are you interviewing me?” “Maybe.” “Why?” “Curious.” Deja looked at Dalia. Dalia ignored her. Birgitta could almost admire the cruelty. Almost. “They're comfortable together.” Dalia waited. “Twelve years,” Birgitta continued. “You can feel it. Nobody's trying to prove anything.” “And him?” There it was. Deja's gaze stayed very carefully on Birgitta's face. Birgitta answered honestly. “Different.” “Good different?” “Very.” Deja looked away. Dalia did not. Birgitta continued before the silence became suspicious. “I had to learn some things. Angles. Balance. What translates and what doesn't.” “Difficult?” “No.” She smiled. “Fun.” Dalia glanced at Deja. Deja stared at her. “What?” “I didn't say anything.” “You're doing it again.” “Doing what?” “That.” Birgitta looked between them. Perfectly innocent. Dalia's smile widened. Deja muttered: “Bitch.” Dalia gave the leash a tiny pull. Deja stepped closer. “Careful.” Deja's expression changed. Not much. Enough. Birgitta suddenly understood the shape of the moment from the other side. Dalia still held every decision tonight. Deja had asked for that. And now Dalia had discovered something Deja wanted badly enough to become visibly distracted by it. Oh. That was going to become somebody's problem. Not Birgitta's. At least not tonight. Dalia looked at her again. “Anything else?” Birgitta smiled. “The ears were excellent.” Deja made the mistake of looking at her. Birgitta almost died. She did not laugh. She deserved a fucking medal. Dalia's head turned very slowly toward Deja. Deja closed her eyes. “Fuck.” Birgitta looked away. Immediately. Because if she didn't, Reyes was going to destroy months of planning over a German shepherd's ears. --- Mandi returned alone. Birgitta saw her coming. Raised four fingers. Mandi raised five. Neither said a word. Mandi reached them. Birgitta looked at her. “Again?” “Yes.” “Same client twice.” “Yes.” “That is basically one booking with an intermission.” Mandi stared. “You cannot be serious.” “Entirely.” “Two payments.” “Technicality.” “Two hours.” “Extended booking.” “Two separate trips to a room.” “She forgot something.” Vega folded over laughing. Mandi pointed at Birgitta. “You are losing with absolutely no dignity.” “I have enormous dignity.” “No.” “Premium dignity.” “No.” “Twenty-five thousand and one eddies of dignity.” Mandi looked at Vega. “Is she always like this?” Vega wiped her eyes. “I've known her for a few hours.” “Feels longer.” Birgitta looked at her. “You said that about Nova.” Vega paused. Only for a fraction. Then smiled. “See? She listens.” “Occupational hazard,” Birgitta said. Mandi nodded. “That part I believe.” Birgitta smiled. But Reyes heard the warning anyway. That had been harmless. A sentence from minutes ago. Nothing strange about remembering it. But the ease was becoming dangerous. The longer she stood with them, the less they felt like strangers. Because they weren't. She knew how Mandi's humor worked. She knew when Dalia was about to push. She knew what Deja's silences meant. She knew the tiny differences between Nova's patience and Iris's irritation because they were built from the same woman. She knew Vega's laughter before it happened. Birgitta couldn't forget any of that. She simply had to behave as though she hadn't earned the knowledge years ago. That was harder than the face. Harder than the voice. Harder than walking onto Jig-Jig and asking Suzie for work. Distance. Not physical. Something much smaller. A fraction of a second before answering. A joke left unsaid. A glance not followed. Knowing when not to know. Reyes could do that. She had done harder things. Still— nobody had warned her that the most difficult part of becoming somebody else would be pretending the people she loved were new. --- Nova left with two women. One baseline. The other had translucent synthetic skin from the collarbones down, internal structures rendered in stylized gold instead of any attempt at biological imitation. Vega watched them go. Birgitta stood beside her. “She's interested.” Vega glanced at her. “Nova?” “Yes.” “Obviously.” “How?” Vega looked toward her working partner. “The mouth.” Birgitta looked. Nova was listening to the woman with the gold beneath her skin. Nothing obvious. Then the left corner of her mouth lifted. Barely. Birgitta saw it. “Oh.” Vega smiled. “Yep.” Birgitta looked at her. “You notice everything she does.” “Pretty much.” There was affection in that. Simple. Easy. Birgitta smiled. Vega caught it. “What?” “Nothing.” “Thinking face?” “Fuck off.” Vega laughed. Nova disappeared toward the rooms with both clients. Birgitta watched until they were gone. Then looked at Vega. “You enjoy watching her work.” Vega shrugged. “Yes.” No embarrassment. No defensiveness. Just yes. Birgitta knew exactly how much more lived beneath that answer. She left it alone. Vega looked at her. “What?” “Nothing.” “You keep saying that.” “Maybe I have a rich internal life.” “You're a joytoy on Jig-Jig Street.” “Those things are not mutually exclusive.” Vega laughed. “Fair.” --- The shift kept moving. That was the strange part. Huge moments happened. Then Night City swallowed them. A German shepherd full-conversion walked into Birgitta's life, gave her one of the best bookings of the night, accidentally revealed something hilarious about Deja— and twenty minutes later a drunk corpo was arguing with a vending machine three meters away. A Mox walked past carrying a replacement light panel. Somebody laughed from one of the rooms. A motorcycle screamed along the larger street beyond the market. A woman with four cybernetic arms bought noodles and ate them while walking. Nobody stopped. Nobody announced a transition. The night simply continued. Birgitta liked that. She liked it more every hour. --- For the first time in a while, she ended up alone at the rail. Not isolated. Just unoccupied. Mandi had gone for water. Nova was still booked. Vega was talking to Dalia. Deja stood close beside her. Suzie had disappeared toward Lizzie's. Birgitta rested her forearms against the rail. Four bookings. She had stopped measuring time. That surprised her. She had expected to know exactly how long she'd been out here. Exactly how long the voice held. Exactly how long before somebody looked twice. Exactly how long before she wanted the face off. Instead— she wanted another client. Not immediately. But before the night ended. Then another shift. That thought still felt strange. Not wrong. Just new. Someone leaned against the rail beside her. Birgitta glanced over. Sera. Silver-white hair catching faint static at the ends. Bright eyes reflecting neon. Calm expression. Birgitta's pulse changed. Not visibly. She hoped. Sera looked out at the street. “Busy.” Birgitta smiled. “Apparently.” Sera turned her head. Looked at her. One second. Two. Birgitta kept the smile easy. Sera's eyes moved over her. Face. Hair. Clothes. Back to her eyes. No surprise. No confusion. No second look. Birgitta felt a little tension leave her shoulders. Good. Sera held out a hand. “Sera.” Birgitta took it. “Birgitta.” “I know.” Birgitta laughed. “Of course you do.” “New girl.” “Apparently I'm famous.” “Four bookings.” Birgitta stared. “Oh, for fuck's sake.” Sera smiled. “Mandi.” “Of course.” “She says you're losing.” “There is no competition.” “Mandi says there is.” “Mandi is an asshole.” “Yes.” Birgitta laughed. Sera looked back toward the street. For a while they simply stood there. Birgitta breathed. Normal. Easy. Maybe Sera hadn't— “You like it.” Birgitta looked at her. “The work?” “Yes.” She didn't need to think. “I fucking love it.” Sera turned. Something warm moved through her expression. Birgitta felt it. Not enough to name. Enough to notice. “What?” Birgitta asked. “Nothing.” “That wasn't nothing.” Sera smiled. Birgitta's stomach tightened. That sounded horribly familiar. Sera looked down. Birgitta followed her gaze. Her own hand rested on the rail. Fingers moving lightly against the metal. She stopped them. Sera looked back up. Still smiling. Fuck. Birgitta smiled too. “What?” “Come with me.” “Where?” “Drink.” Sera pushed away from the rail. Birgitta hesitated. Then followed. Sera didn't head toward the main bar. She took the side corridor. The music softened with every step. Not silent. Never silent here. Just far enough away that voices no longer had to fight for space. Sera stopped beside a service alcove. Turned. Birgitta waited. Sera looked at her. Really looked. No hurry. No theatrical reveal. No triumph. Just Sera. Her silver-white hair lifted faintly around her temples. Then she smiled. “Successful cover, Reyes.” Birgitta stared at her. Silence. One second. Two. Her shoulders dropped. “Oh, fuck you.” Sera laughed softly. Birgitta put both hands over her face. “You fucking—” Sera waited. Birgitta lowered her hands. “How?” Sera shrugged. “No.” “No?” “No explanation.” “Sera.” “No.” “Face?” “No.” “Voice?” “No.” “Walk?” “No.” Birgitta narrowed her eyes. “Hands?” Sera smiled. “Maybe.” “Fuck.” “Maybe not.” “Sera.” Another tiny shrug. Birgitta stared at her. “You knew.” “Yes.” “When?” “When I saw you.” “That is incredibly unhelpful.” “I know.” Birgitta groaned. Sera's smile warmed. “But it is a successful cover.” Birgitta looked at her. Sera meant it. Completely. “You're the only one.” “I know.” “You've been watching.” “Yes.” “Mandi doesn't know.” “No.” “Mai?” Sera's eyebrows rose slightly. Birgitta corrected herself immediately. “Dalia.” Sera's smile became dangerous. “Careful.” “Fuck.” “No. She doesn't.” “Deja?” “No.” “Nova and Vega?” “No.” Birgitta leaned back against the wall. Then laughed. Relief finally arrived properly. Not because she'd expected Sera to expose her. Never. Because one person knowing meant she could stop wondering whether the cover had failed in some way she couldn't see. Sera hadn't found a flaw. Sera had found Reyes. Those were different things. “Don't tell them.” “I won't.” Immediate. Simple. Of course. Birgitta nodded. That was finished. Then Sera's eyes changed. Barely. A spark. Birgitta knew it far too well. “Oh, no.” Sera smiled. “What?” “You're enjoying this.” “Yes.” “You bitch.” “Yes.” Birgitta laughed. Sera stepped closer and touched one strand of muted copper-grey hair. “Lena?” “Yes.” “Good.” “Triple.” Sera's eyebrows rose. “I paid her triple not to tell anyone.” That got a real laugh. “Victor?” “Face and voice.” Sera studied her for a moment. “Very good.” “Not good enough.” “For me.” Birgitta stared at her. Sera smiled. “Successful cover, Reyes.” Again. Birgitta shook her head. “Bitch.” “Yes.” Then Sera stepped back. “Come on.” “Where?” “Back.” Birgitta pushed away from the wall. “What are you going to do?” Sera's expression became beautifully innocent. Birgitta distrusted it immediately. “Meet the new girl.” “Oh, fuck.” Sera started walking. Birgitta followed. Halfway back toward the noise, Sera stopped. Turned. Held out her hand. Birgitta looked at it. Then at her. Sera smiled. “Too familiar?” Good question. Birgitta considered it. Then took the hand. “No.” Two joytoys walking back together after disappearing for a drink. Nothing strange about that. Sera squeezed her fingers once. Birgitta squeezed back. Then let go before they reached the others. Mandi saw them first. Her black eyes moved from Sera to Birgitta. “Oh, no.” Birgitta smiled. “What?” “You've met Sera.” “Yes.” Sera stopped beside her. “We talked.” Mandi looked at Sera. Then Birgitta. Then Sera again. “Do not encourage her.” Sera's face remained perfectly calm. “Why?” “She's already unbearable.” Birgitta raised one finger. “Twenty-five thousand and one.” Mandi groaned. Sera looked at Birgitta. Looked at Mandi. Then, with absolute seriousness: “I like her.” Birgitta nearly broke. Nearly. Instead she smiled brightly. Mandi stared at Sera as though personally betrayed. “Of course you do.” Sera's eyes met Birgitta's. Just once. Nothing anyone else would notice. Enough. Then Sera turned toward the street. Birgitta stood beside her. Mandi knew Birgitta. Dalia knew Birgitta. Deja knew Birgitta. Nova and Vega knew Birgitta. They had met her tonight. Sera alone knew Reyes. And nobody looking at the two women standing side by side would have known there was any difference at all. --- # CHAPTER 15 — TWO STRANGERS Birgitta noticed the street changing before she saw why. It wasn't dramatic. Jig-Jig Street did dramatic every thirty seconds. Someone shouting. Someone laughing too loudly. A joytoy climbing onto a railing to advertise herself. A chrome-heavy couple arguing over whose turn it was to pay. A man with four synthetic arms carrying six drinks and somehow still managing to gesture while he talked. Noise was normal. Movement was normal. Attention moving together was not. A conversation near the food stalls broke off. Two people turned. Then three more. A woman leaning against a neon pillar straightened and looked past Birgitta. Someone farther down the street said: “No fucking way.” Birgitta followed their eyes. White moved through the crowd. Not ordinary white. Not a shirt. Not a coat. Couture. Something expensive enough that Birgitta couldn't immediately tell where clothing ended and wearable art began. Layered pale fabric caught the Jig-Jig neon without surrendering to it, clean lines shifting subtly as the woman walked. Silver-white hair above it. A faint movement at the ends. Not wind. Oh. Fuck. Sera. Birgitta went very still. Sera wasn't making an entrance. That was perhaps the most Sera thing about it. She was simply walking. People were doing the entrance for her. A pair of men near the rail watched her pass. “That's actually her.” “Yeah.” “Here?” “Apparently.” One of them laughed. “Of course.” The other looked at him. “What does that mean?” “It's Sera.” Apparently that explained everything. Judging by the first man's expression, it did. Sera continued through the crowd. People recognized her at different distances. Some immediately. Some after a second look. Some only after somebody beside them whispered something. A woman with luminous tattoos running from her jaw to her collarbone nudged her companion and pointed. A joytoy near the curb looked once, looked again, then grinned. A corpo in a suit that probably cost more than Birgitta's entire outfit stopped pretending he wasn't staring. The reaction spread ahead of Sera and closed behind her. Not celebrity hysteria. Something stranger. Recognition mixed with curiosity. The public knew Sera. Artist. Provocation. Beautiful problem. Woman who could apparently walk onto Jig-Jig Street in white couture and somehow make that seem like the obvious next chapter in whatever story Night City had already invented about her. Birgitta had known all of that. Reyes had. Knowing it and watching it happen were very different things. She had seen Sera at breakfast. Barefoot. Half asleep. Laughing. Furious. Working. Bleeding. Relaxed on a couch with people she trusted. Quiet enough that nobody outside the room would ever have believed the woman had a public mythology attached to her. Birgitta had never watched strangers recognize her. Never stood outside that mythology and watched it approach. Sera was fucking impossible to miss. “Well.” Mandi had appeared beside her. Birgitta didn't look away. “That's Sera?” Mandi turned toward her. “You haven't met her?” “No.” The answer came easily. It was even true. Birgitta had never met Sera. Mandi smiled. “Oh.” Birgitta finally glanced at her. “What?” “Nothing.” “That wasn't nothing.” “You'll see.” Birgitta looked back toward Sera. Her pulse had started climbing. Mandi hadn't recognized Reyes. Dalia hadn't. Deja hadn't. Nova and Vega hadn't. Suzie hadn't known who had walked into Lizzie's asking for work. The face worked. The voice worked. Lena's hair and contacts worked. The clothes worked. More importantly, Birgitta worked. Reyes had spent the entire night standing among people who knew her while behaving like someone they had never met. And it had held. Sera was different. Not because she knew Reyes better than everyone else here. That wasn't even a useful scale. She simply noticed differently. Sometimes irritatingly differently. Sera could walk into a room and know somebody was wrong before they had spoken. She noticed pauses. Hands. Silence. The fraction of a second between a question and an answer. Things nobody had deliberately shown her. Birgitta suddenly became aware of her own shoulders. Her hands. The angle of her weight against the rail. She changed nothing. Changing something because Sera was approaching would be worse. A man stepped into Sera's path. Not aggressively. Hopefully. “Sera?” She stopped. “Yes?” “Are you working tonight?” Sera considered him. “Yes.” That produced another little movement around them. People listening without looking like they were listening. The man smiled. “Can I book you?” “You can make an offer.” His confidence slipped slightly. “How much?” Sera's expression didn't change. “Seven figures.” The man blinked. “Minimum?” “An acceptable offer starts there.” He stared at her. Then laughed. “Jesus.” Sera smiled. He didn't leave. Interesting. “How much gets a yes?” “There isn't a number that gets a yes.” That quieted him. Sera waited. The man looked at her for another moment. “So I could offer seven figures and you could still say no.” “Yes.” “And I don't get to know what number would change that.” “It might not be the number.” The man laughed again. This time with genuine appreciation. “Fuck.” Sera's smile warmed. He shook his head. “Not tonight.” “Then not tonight.” No disappointment. No sales pitch. No attempt to keep him there. He stepped aside. Sera continued walking. Mandi made a quiet sound beside Birgitta. Birgitta looked at her. “What?” “Every time.” “She always does that?” “Pretty much.” “Seven figures and she still might say no.” Mandi shrugged. “It's Sera.” There it was again. As if that explained everything. Perhaps it did. Birgitta looked toward Sera. “I like it.” Mandi's eyebrows rose. “The price?” “The answer.” That got a smile. “Yeah.” Sera was getting closer. Nova had noticed her now. Vega followed Nova's gaze and immediately smiled. Dalia turned. Deja looked over her shoulder. Their reactions were smaller than the street's. Warmer. Recognition without surprise at who Sera was. Only mild surprise that she was here. Nova lifted a hand. Sera saw it. Changed direction slightly. Straight toward them. Birgitta's stomach tightened. Wonderful. She had wanted to test the cover. Apparently the universe had decided she hadn't been ambitious enough. Vega reached Sera first. “Look what wandered in.” Sera hugged her. “Hello, Vega.” Nova got the next hug. “You didn't tell us you were coming.” “I didn't know I was coming.” Vega stared at her. “That sounds like bullshit.” “It isn't.” “Did you accidentally become a joytoy again?” Sera considered. “Maybe.” Nova laughed. Dalia stepped closer. Sera hugged her too. Then Deja. Deja's leash remained in Dalia's hand. Sera noticed it. Her gaze moved once from the leash to Dalia. Then to Deja. No question. No comment. Just a tiny smile. Deja pointed at her. “Don't.” “I didn't say anything.” “You were going to.” “No.” Dalia laughed. “She wasn't.” Deja looked at her. “You're both terrible.” “Yes,” Dalia said. Sera's hair lifted faintly. Birgitta watched from beside Mandi. There was something profoundly strange about seeing people she knew greet someone she knew while standing among them as the only stranger. Mandi touched Birgitta lightly on the arm. “Sera.” Sera turned. Mandi smiled. “We have a new girl.” Oh, fuck you. Sera's eyes found Birgitta. And stopped. Birgitta smiled. Bright. Easy. Open. The smile came naturally now. That was useful. Very light brown eyes met Sera's. One second. Sera looked at the unfamiliar face. Muted copper-grey hair. The elegant dress. Back to her eyes. Nothing changed. Not visibly. Mandi gestured between them. “Birgitta. Sera.” Sera stepped closer. Held out her hand. “Nice to meet you.” Birgitta looked at the hand. For one absurd moment, that nearly broke her. Not the face. Not the voice. Not being inspected. A fucking handshake. She had known Sera long enough that the formality felt ridiculous. Which meant Reyes had to keep that thought entirely off Birgitta's face. Birgitta took her hand. “You too.” Warm fingers. A normal handshake. Brief. Polite. Release. No secret pressure. No pause. No recognition. Sera looked at Mandi. “First night?” “Yes.” “How's she doing?” Mandi immediately pointed at Birgitta. “Four.” Birgitta folded her arms. “You say that like you're my manager.” “Four bookings.” Sera looked at Birgitta. “First night?” “Apparently I'm irresistible.” Mandi snorted. “New-girl effect.” “You've been saying that for hours.” “Still true.” Nova joined them. “Maybe not.” Mandi looked offended. “Whose side are you on?” “Mine.” “That's not one of the options.” “It always is.” Vega appeared beside her working partner. “What are we arguing about?” “Birgitta.” “Oh. She's good.” Mandi stared at both of them. “Traitors.” Birgitta smiled. This was exactly what she had wanted from the night. People who knew Reyes too well to flatter her. Talking about Birgitta as if Reyes wasn't standing there. Except now Sera was listening. Sera looked at Birgitta. “How do you like it?” There were several possible answers. Only one arrived. “I fucking love it.” Sera's eyes changed. Barely. Warmth. Recognition? No. Maybe amusement. Maybe approval. Maybe nothing Birgitta hadn't already earned as herself. “Good,” Sera said. Then she looked toward the street. A woman had stopped several meters away and was clearly trying to decide whether approaching Sera was a financially catastrophic idea. Sera noticed. Waited. The woman finally came over. Birgitta watched. So did half the group. “Hi.” “Hello.” The woman glanced once toward the others, then back to Sera. “Can I ask?” “Yes.” “Seven figures?” “An acceptable offer has to be.” The woman swallowed. “Okay.” She thought. Actually thought. Then named a number. Birgitta's eyebrows almost rose. Almost. Sera considered the woman. Not the number. The woman. “What are you looking for?” That seemed to surprise her. “Company.” Sera waited. “And sex.” “Probably?” The woman laughed nervously. “Yes. Probably.” “What kind of company?” The question slowed everything down. The woman looked at Sera more carefully. “I don't know.” “Then think about it.” She did. For several seconds. “I've had a horrible week.” Sera nodded. “I don't want to talk about it.” “Okay.” “I don't want to be alone either.” “Okay.” The woman looked at her. “That's it?” “For now.” Something in her shoulders eased. Sera glanced toward Lizzie's. Then back. “Give me ten minutes.” The woman blinked. “Is that a yes?” “No.” A pause. Then the woman laughed. Of course. “Ten minutes.” She walked toward the bar. Birgitta watched her go. Then looked at Sera. “You're evil.” Sera turned. “Why?” “She still doesn't know.” “No.” “She offered seven figures.” “Yes.” “And you still haven't said yes.” “No.” Birgitta smiled. “I like you.” Mandi laughed. “Oh, she's doomed.” Sera smiled at Birgitta. “I like you too.” The words were perfectly harmless. Exactly what two women who had just met might say. For some reason they made the back of Birgitta's neck prickle. She ignored it. --- Sera stayed. That alone kept a low current moving through Jig-Jig. People looked. Some whispered. A few approached. One asked whether the seven-figure rule was a joke. Sera said no. Another tried to negotiate. That conversation lasted approximately six seconds. A third offered enough that Mandi actually turned her head. Sera asked him two questions. Then declined. He looked stunned. Not angry. Just unable to understand how the amount had failed. After he left, Birgitta leaned toward Mandi. “How much?” Mandi told her. Birgitta stared. “And she said no.” “Yes.” “Why?” Mandi shrugged. “Didn't like him.” Simple. Birgitta looked at Sera. Sera had already moved on. That was worth remembering. Price opened the conversation. It didn't buy the decision. Night City contained plenty of people rich enough to forget there was a difference. Sera apparently enjoyed reminding them. Birgitta found herself watching more closely. Not only because it was Sera. Because she was learning. Mandi sold confidence differently. Dalia controlled space. Nova could turn warmth into reassurance almost instantly. Vega made people feel as though whatever embarrassing thing they wanted was probably funny rather than shameful. Deja watched before she committed. Sera— Sera didn't seem to sell at all. She made people decide whether they were interesting enough to ask. Birgitta smiled. Sera caught her looking. Again. This time she walked over. “You keep watching me.” Birgitta leaned against the rail. “I'm new.” “So?” “So I'm stealing.” “Techniques?” “Anything useful.” Sera stood beside her. Close enough for conversation. Not close enough to imply familiarity. “What have you stolen?” Birgitta glanced toward Mandi. “Confidence.” Mandi heard. “Already had it.” “Shut up.” Sera smiled. “Nova?” “Patience.” Nova, farther away, lifted one finger without looking over. Birgitta laughed. “Vega?” “Making people laugh before they can embarrass themselves.” Vega pointed at her. “That one's mine.” “Dalia?” Birgitta looked toward Dalia. Deja stood beside her. The leash rested loosely through Dalia's fingers. “Attention.” Dalia's eyebrows rose. “Explain.” “You don't watch Deja all the time.” “No.” “But somehow she always knows when you are.” Deja looked at Dalia. Dalia smiled. Birgitta continued before that became something else. “Deja watches first.” Deja nodded. “And me?” Sera asked. Birgitta looked at her. That was dangerous. Not because she didn't have an answer. Because Reyes had too many. She chose the one Birgitta had learned tonight. “You don't chase.” Sera's expression remained neutral. “You don't need to.” “Sometimes I do.” “No.” Sera looked amused. “No?” “You let people approach. Then you make them explain why they did.” Sera studied her. Mandi had gone quiet. So had Vega. Birgitta realized she had acquired an audience. She shrugged. “And the money doesn't decide for you.” “No.” “So the seven figures aren't really the price.” That got Sera's attention. “What are they?” “A door.” Silence. Then Sera smiled. “Good.” Mandi groaned. “Oh, fantastic. Now Sera likes her.” “She already said that,” Birgitta said. “That's worse.” Vega laughed. Sera turned slightly toward Mandi. “Jealous?” “No.” “Yes,” Nova said. “Fuck all of you.” Birgitta laughed. Sera laughed with her. And for a few seconds it was easy. Too easy. Then Sera looked down. At Birgitta's hand. Birgitta followed her gaze. Her fingers were tapping lightly against the rail. Three. Pause. Two. She stopped. Sera looked back up. Nothing changed in her face. Nothing obvious. But Birgitta knew. Not why. Not how. She simply knew that something had happened. Sera looked toward Lizzie's. “Come with me.” Birgitta's pulse jumped. “Where?” “Drink.” Mandi waved one hand. “Don't let her corrupt you.” Birgitta pushed away from the rail. “Bit late.” Sera started walking. Birgitta followed. --- Sera didn't take her into the main room. She passed the bar and continued toward one of the quieter side corridors where Jig-Jig's noise softened into vibration. Birgitta followed. Sera stopped. Turned. For a moment neither spoke. The silver-white ends of Sera's hair moved faintly around her shoulders. Birgitta folded her arms. “Well?” Sera smiled. Warm. Amused. Completely certain. “Successful cover, Reyes.” Birgitta stared at her. Fuck. There it was. Not suspicion. Not a question. Not _Are you—?_ Reyes. Birgitta closed her eyes. “Oh, fuck you.” Sera laughed. Birgitta opened them again. “How long?” Sera's smile widened. “How. Long.” “When Mandi introduced us.” “Immediately?” “Yes.” “Goddammit.” Sera laughed again. Birgitta leaned back against the wall. For several seconds she simply stared at her. Then: “What gave me away?” Sera said nothing. “Face?” “No.” “Voice?” “No.” “Hair?” “No.” “Eyes?” “No.” “Walk?” “No.” “Posture?” “No.” Birgitta narrowed her eyes. “Hands?” Sera's smile became dangerous. “Maybe.” “Oh, fuck off.” “Maybe not.” “Sera.” “No.” “What do you mean, no?” “I mean I'm not telling you.” “You absolute bitch.” “Yes.” Birgitta couldn't help it. She laughed. Then immediately looked toward the corridor behind Sera. “Mandi?” “No.” “Dalia?” “No.” “Deja?” “No.” “Nova?” “No.” “Vega?” “No.” Birgitta studied her. “You're sure.” “Yes.” Not a question. Relief arrived slowly. The cover hadn't failed. There wasn't a seam Victor had missed. Lena hadn't chosen something wrong. Birgitta hadn't unconsciously dropped the voice. She hadn't started moving like Reyes the moment she relaxed. Five people who knew Reyes had spent hours with Birgitta and still had no idea. Sera simply knew. That was somehow more irritating. And much better. “Don't tell them.” “I won't.” Immediate. No joke. No bargaining. No _of course_ stretched into performance. Just the answer. Birgitta nodded. She had known it before asking. Still needed to ask. Sera understood that too. Birgitta looked at her. “You're not even telling Ace?” “No.” “Mai?” “No.” “Deja?” “No.” “Panam?” “No.” That last answer came just as easily as the others. The secret belonged to Reyes. Sera had understood that before Reyes finished asking. “Okay.” Sera stepped closer. Studied the unfamiliar face properly now that she no longer had to pretend not to. “Victor?” “Face and voice.” Sera nodded. “Lena?” “Hair. Eyes. Dress.” Sera touched one strand of muted copper-grey hair. “Good.” “I paid her triple.” Sera blinked. “For what?” “Silence.” A laugh escaped her. “You paid Lena triple not to tell anyone?” “Yes.” “That might be the most Reyes thing you've done tonight.” “Fuck you.” Sera laughed harder. Birgitta tried to remain offended. Failed. Then Sera looked at her again. Not Birgitta this time. Reyes. Through Birgitta. The distinction was subtle. It was also unmistakable. “Do you like it?” Reyes didn't need to ask what she meant. “Yes.” “How much?” Birgitta's smile appeared before she could stop it. “A lot.” Sera's expression warmed. “I noticed.” “Did you?” “You told me you fucking love it.” “Birgitta told you.” Sera raised an eyebrow. Reyes stared at her. Then laughed. “Okay. Fair.” Sera leaned lightly against the opposite wall. “So?” “So what?” “Are you doing this again?” “Yes.” No hesitation. That surprised Reyes a little. The certainty of it. Not _probably_. Not _maybe_. Yes. Sera smiled. “Good.” Birgitta pointed at her. “And you are going to act like you don't know me.” “Yes.” “In public.” “Yes.” “No hints.” “Yes.” “No clever little Sera bullshit.” Sera looked innocent. Birgitta stared. “Sera.” “Yes.” “That face is exactly why I'm specifying.” “I won't expose you.” The humor remained. The answer underneath it did not move. Birgitta nodded. “Good.” Sera pushed away from the wall. “Ready?” Birgitta looked toward the street. Back toward Mandi. Dalia. Deja. Nova. Vega. People who had spent the entire night talking to a woman they didn't know was Reyes. Now one person knew. That changed everything. And nothing. Birgitta straightened. The brighter posture returned. Open shoulders. Easy smile. A woman who could walk back into Jig-Jig beside Sera without looking as though they had just shared a secret. Sera watched the transformation. Her eyebrows rose slightly. “What?” “Nothing.” “That wasn't nothing.” Sera smiled. Birgitta pointed at her again. “Behave.” “No.” “Close enough.” They walked back. --- Mandi saw them first. “You took your time.” Sera stopped beside her. “Did we?” “Yes.” Birgitta smiled. “She interrogated me.” Mandi's eyes lit up. “About what?” “My first night.” That was true. “What did you tell her?” “That I'm brilliant.” Sera nodded. “She did.” Mandi stared at Sera. “You're encouraging her.” “Yes.” “Why?” “I like her.” Birgitta felt the laugh trying to escape. Held it. Barely. Vega joined them. “You've known her twenty minutes.” Sera looked at Birgitta. Publicly. Like a woman she had met twenty minutes ago. “Some people make a quick impression.” Birgitta smiled brightly. “See?” Mandi groaned. “No. Absolutely not. We already have enough ego here.” Dalia walked over with Deja beside her. “What's happening?” “Sera has adopted the new girl,” Mandi said. “I have not.” “You disappeared with her.” “For a drink.” “You came back without drinks.” Sera paused. Birgitta looked at her. Sera looked at Birgitta. Fuck. Vega noticed. “You forgot the drinks?” “Yes,” Sera said. Mandi burst out laughing. Birgitta joined her. Easy. Natural. Nothing to hide. Just two women who had started talking and forgotten why they'd walked away. Dalia shook her head. “Professionals.” “Very expensive professionals,” Vega said. Sera smiled. Deja looked at Birgitta. “So?” “So what?” “Did she approve?” Birgitta glanced at Sera. That was dangerous in an entirely different way now. “She said I'm doing well.” Sera nodded. “She is.” Mandi put a hand over her heart. “Betrayal.” “You're still ahead,” Nova said. Mandi immediately recovered. “Yes.” Birgitta looked at her. “Temporarily.” “Four.” “Four.” “You sound very confident for someone tied with nobody.” “Give me time.” Mandi smiled. “There she is.” Birgitta smiled back. Sera watched them. Nobody noticed anything. Good. Exactly right. A prospective client approached Sera from the side. The same woman from earlier. The one who had made the seven-figure offer and been told to wait ten minutes. She stopped. Sera turned toward her. The rest of the group naturally gave them space. The woman looked steadier now. “I thought about your question.” Sera's attention settled on her completely. “What kind of company?” “Yes.” “And?” The woman smiled. “I want someone who doesn't need anything from me for an hour.” Sera watched her. No joke. No performance. “And the sex?” “If we want it.” Sera nodded once. “Yes.” The woman's eyes widened slightly. “Yes?” “Yes.” Relief and excitement arrived together. Sera offered her hand. The woman took it. They walked toward Lizzie's. People noticed. Of course they noticed. The whisper started almost immediately. Someone had just made an offer. Sera had accepted. Nobody nearby knew the number. They only knew the rule. Seven figures. At least. Birgitta watched the rumor begin in real time. Mandi stepped beside her. “Now you understand.” Birgitta glanced at her. “Why everyone watches?” “Partly.” They watched Sera disappear inside with the woman. Mandi smiled. “Half this street is going to invent a number before she comes back.” Birgitta laughed. “How high?” “Depends how drunk they get.” Nova joined them. “Two million by midnight.” Vega shook her head. “Three.” Dalia looked toward Lizzie's. “Five by breakfast.” Deja snorted. “Someone will say ten.” Birgitta smiled. Night City didn't need facts. Facts only slowed a good story down. She looked at the door through which Sera had disappeared. One accepted seven-figure offer. One street already preparing to improve it. And one secret nobody here knew existed. Except Sera. Birgitta folded her arms. Mandi glanced at her. “Thinking face.” Birgitta turned. “Fuck off.” Mandi laughed. Birgitta laughed with her. And this time, when Reyes thought about Sera somewhere behind the doors of Lizzie's, she didn't wonder whether the cover had survived. It had. Sera knowing didn't make the cover weaker. If anything, it proved how strong it was. Everyone else had met Birgitta. Only Sera had found Reyes. And when Sera came back out, she would meet Birgitta all over again. --- # CHAPTER 16 — FIVE Sera had been gone for eleven minutes when her booking reached four million. Not the booking itself. The rumor. Birgitta heard it from behind her. “Four point two.” She turned. Two men were standing beside a vending machine, speaking with the confidence of people who possessed absolutely no useful information. The taller one shook his head. “Five.” “Bullshit.” “She turned down three earlier.” “That doesn't make it five.” “It means she can ask five.” Neither of them had been close enough to hear the offer. Birgitta knew because she had been. She turned back toward Mandi. “Four point two.” Mandi nodded gravely. “Reasonable.” “They invented it.” “Obviously.” “Eleven minutes.” “Jig-Jig is efficient.” Nova joined them with a paper tray of something fried. “Five and a half near the noodle stall.” Birgitta stared. “How?” Nova ate one. “No idea.” Vega reached for the tray. Nova moved it away. “You said you didn't want any.” “I changed my mind.” “You always change your mind after I pay.” “That's why I let you pay.” Nova stared at her working partner. Vega smiled. Birgitta looked at Mandi. “Do they do this all night?” “Yes.” “I heard that,” Nova said. “Good.” Vega stole one anyway. Nova slapped her hand. Too late. Dalia and Deja stood several meters away. Dalia still held the leash. Deja was talking to a woman with mirrored cheek implants while Dalia listened. Not interfering. Not absent. Birgitta had started noticing the difference. Earlier in the night she had watched the leash because it was unusual. Now she watched Dalia's hand. A tiny shift of two fingers. Deja saw it. The conversation ended less than a minute later. The woman left smiling. Deja returned to Dalia. No complaint. No question. Dalia touched her shoulder. Deja leaned into it for half a second. Then straightened. Birgitta smiled. Mandi caught her. “Thinking face.” Birgitta looked at her. “I hate that you've learned that.” “It's not subtle.” “It is subtle.” “No.” Nova nodded. “No.” Vega nodded too. “Very obvious.” Birgitta folded her arms. “You've known me for one night.” “Long enough,” Mandi said. That nearly made Birgitta laugh for an entirely different reason. She looked toward Lizzie's entrance. Sera remained somewhere inside. One person on Jig-Jig knew exactly who stood beside Mandi. Everyone else was learning Birgitta instead. Her smile. Her curiosity. Her habit of watching somebody for three seconds too long when they surprised her. Apparently her thinking face. Reyes had spent years making herself difficult to read. Birgitta had been alive for one night and was already accumulating tells. Strangely, she didn't mind. They belonged to Birgitta. That was becoming important. A woman passing them looked at Birgitta. Kept walking. Looked back. Birgitta met her eyes. The woman slowed. Mandi noticed. Birgitta could feel it without looking. “Don't.” “I didn't say anything.” “You're about to.” “No.” The woman stopped. Birgitta smiled. Mandi whispered: “Five.” “Shut up.” The woman came back. She was perhaps forty. Tall enough that Birgitta had to tilt her head slightly when she stopped in front of her. Dark skin. Shaved head except for a narrow band of gold filament running from her forehead over the crown and down to the base of her skull. One brown eye. One polished black cybernetic eye with a tiny amber aperture. A charcoal-grey jacket sat perfectly across broad shoulders. No visible weapon. That meant nothing in Night City. Her attention stayed on Birgitta. “Working?” “Yes.” “How much?” “Twenty-five thousand and one.” The natural eyebrow rose. “The one matters?” “Very much.” “Why?” Birgitta smiled. “I wanted to be a little different.” “From?” “I've heard of Mandi.” Mandi made a noise beside her. The woman turned. Saw her. Looked back at Birgitta. “Oh.” Birgitta kept an innocent expression. Mandi folded her arms. “Go ahead.” “What?” “Tell her how you've heard of me.” Birgitta smiled. “You're apparently famous.” “Apparently.” The woman laughed. “You two know each other?” “Met tonight,” Birgitta said. “She's been annoying me ever since,” Mandi added. “She's threatened.” “Four.” Birgitta's smile disappeared. The woman looked between them. “Four?” “Bookings.” “Mandi.” “First night.” “Mandi.” “Four.” The woman laughed again. Birgitta pointed toward the street. “Don't you have work?” “I have five.” There it was. Birgitta stared. Mandi smiled. Slowly. Smugly. Five fingers rose. “You bitch.” “Yes.” “When?” “While you were busy with Sera.” “I was gone ten minutes.” “Efficiency.” The woman was openly enjoying this now. Birgitta turned back to her. “Sorry.” “Don't apologize.” Her voice had changed. Warmer. The first question had been transactional. Now she was interested. Good. Birgitta liked the moment when that happened. “What should I call you?” she asked. “Liv.” “Birgitta.” “I know.” “Then we're making excellent progress.” Liv smiled. Her black eye adjusted with a minute mechanical contraction. “What do I get for twenty-five thousand and one?” “My time.” “That's vague.” “Yes.” “Deliberately?” “Yes.” Liv considered that. “Sex?” “If we both agree that's where the booking goes.” “Conversation?” “Yes.” “Company?” “Yes.” “What don't I get?” “Anything I don't want to do.” Liv nodded once. No joke. No attempt to test the sentence. Good. “And if I don't know what I want yet?” Birgitta looked at her. There it was. Not a challenge. A genuine question. “Then you don't know yet.” Liv waited. Birgitta waited too. “That doesn't bother you?” “No.” “Most people selling something prefer the customer to know what they're buying.” “I'm selling time.” Mandi made a quiet sound. Birgitta glanced sideways. “What?” “Nothing.” “That wasn't nothing.” Mandi smiled. “Carry on.” Birgitta returned her attention to Liv. Liv had noticed the exchange. “You really met tonight?” “Yes.” “And you're already like this?” “She's difficult.” “Four.” Birgitta closed her eyes. Liv laughed. When Birgitta opened them again, Liv was still smiling. “I want an hour.” The childish part of Birgitta immediately wanted to look at Mandi. She resisted. Mostly. “Okay.” Liv transferred the money. Twenty-five thousand and one. The confirmation appeared. Birgitta looked at it. Then at Liv. “Done.” From beside her: “Pending.” Birgitta turned very slowly. Mandi's expression was angelic. “You fucking bitch.” “Booking isn't finished.” “You counted yours before you left.” “Did I?” “Yes.” “Can you prove that?” Nova laughed into her food. Vega nearly spilled her drink. Birgitta raised one finger toward Mandi. “Five.” “Four.” “Five.” “Pending.” Liv looked at Birgitta. “This is important to you.” “No.” Mandi said: “Yes.” Birgitta ignored her. Liv smiled. “Come on.” Birgitta offered her hand. Liv took it. They headed toward Lizzie's. Behind them Mandi called: “DON'T RUSH ON MY ACCOUNT.” Birgitta turned without stopping. “FUCK OFF.” Mandi blew her a kiss. Liv laughed all the way to the door. --- They didn't go upstairs immediately. Liv stopped at the bar. “Drink?” “Sure.” Suzie Q was working farther down. She looked over once. Saw Birgitta. Saw Liv. Returned to what she was doing. No hovering. No need. Birgitta liked that too. Liv ordered something amber. Birgitta took water. They found a quieter place along the wall. Not private. Private enough. Liv took one sip. Then looked at Birgitta. “So.” “So.” “First night.” “Yes.” “Four bookings.” “Five.” “Pending.” Birgitta stared. Liv's mouth twitched. “You're a terrible person.” “I've known you six minutes.” “And already you're learning.” Liv laughed. Birgitta drank some water. For a moment neither said anything. That was fine. Birgitta didn't feel the need to fill every silence. Liv looked toward the entrance. Then toward the rooms. Then back at Birgitta. “You really don't care that I don't know?” “What you want?” “Yes.” “I care.” Liv's expression shifted. “But it doesn't bother me.” “Difference?” “A big one.” Birgitta set down her glass. “If you don't know, I need to pay attention. That's different from not caring.” Liv studied her. “That's a good answer.” “It wasn't prepared.” “Better.” The black eye focused on her. Not scanning. Looking. Birgitta had learned quickly that chrome didn't make attention less human. Sometimes it made it more obvious. “Why this?” Liv asked. Birgitta gestured vaguely. “Joytoy work?” “Yes.” “Curiosity.” “That's it?” “No.” “What else?” Birgitta thought. She could have given a safe answer. Money. Experience. Trying something new. All true enough. None were the reason she was still here after discovering that she could do the work. “I wanted to know whether I'd like it.” “And?” “I fucking love it.” Liv smiled. “You say that like you're surprised.” “I am.” “Why?” Birgitta looked out toward the street. Mandi was visible through the entrance for a moment. Nova beside her. Vega moving past. Dalia and Deja farther away. People Birgitta knew. People who didn't know her. She turned back. “I thought I'd enjoy the disguise.” Liv waited. “I didn't expect to enjoy the work this much.” “What part?” “People.” Liv laughed once. “That's unfortunate.” “Why?” “People are awful.” “Some.” “Most.” “Maybe.” “And you like that?” “No.” Birgitta smiled. “I like that they surprise me.” Liv rolled the glass slowly between her hands. “Good surprise or bad surprise?” “Both can be useful.” “That sounds like something someone says after being shot.” Birgitta laughed. “Occupational hazard.” “For joytoys?” “Night City.” “Fair.” Liv drank again. Then: “I watched you earlier.” Birgitta tilted her head. “How much earlier?” “The couple.” “Which couple?” “The woman and the shepherd.” “Katja and Jonas.” “You remember their names.” “Of course.” Liv nodded. “You asked questions.” “Yes.” “You didn't act like he was a spectacle.” “No.” “You didn't act like he wasn't unusual either.” Birgitta considered that. “No.” “That's why I came back.” “Back?” “I passed you once before.” Birgitta hadn't noticed. Interesting. “I almost stopped.” “Why didn't you?” “I didn't know what I wanted.” Birgitta smiled. “And now?” “I still don't.” There it was again. Liv laughed quietly. “But now I know that doesn't disqualify me.” Something warm moved through Birgitta. Not pride exactly. Maybe. A little. “Good.” Liv looked down at her drink. “My last joytoy asked what I wanted before I sat down.” “Reasonable.” “I said I didn't know.” “What happened?” “She gave me a menu.” Birgitta laughed before she could stop herself. Liv did too. “Sorry.” “No. It was fucking funny.” “A literal menu?” “Categories.” “Oh, no.” “With prices.” “Useful.” “I left.” “Also useful.” Liv smiled. “I don't want a menu.” “Good. I don't have one.” “I noticed.” They sat with that. Noise from Jig-Jig drifted through the entrance. A burst of laughter. Music. Someone shouting an offer at someone else. Night City alive outside. Liv finished half her drink. Then placed it down. “I think I want to kiss you.” Birgitta smiled. “That's one thing.” “Yes.” “Anything else?” “Don't turn it into a menu.” “Fair.” Liv stood. Birgitta stood with her. They went upstairs. --- The room was quiet after the street. Liv closed the door. For a moment she simply looked around. Bed. Chair. Small table. Soft lighting. Nothing theatrical. Good. She took off her jacket and placed it over the chair. Birgitta watched. Liv turned. “Still okay?” “Yes.” “You?” Birgitta smiled. “Yes.” That seemed to matter to Liv. Good. She crossed the distance between them. Stopped close. Not touching. “Now?” Birgitta nodded. Liv kissed her. Careful. A first test. Birgitta kissed her back. Liv pulled away after only a few seconds. Thought. Birgitta waited. “Again.” The second kiss lasted longer. Liv's hand came to Birgitta's waist. Birgitta rested hers lightly against Liv's shoulder. No rush. No assumption that one yes had answered every question after it. Liv leaned closer. The next kiss lost some of its caution. Birgitta felt the change. Answered it. Liv's hand tightened slightly. Then she laughed against Birgitta's mouth. Birgitta pulled back just enough. “What?” “I still don't know what I want.” “Right now?” “Yes.” Birgitta smiled. “You wanted that.” “I did.” “Successful evening.” Liv laughed. “You're very annoying.” “I've been told.” “By Mandi?” “Among others.” Liv kissed her again. This time Birgitta felt the decision arrive before Liv said anything. Not a complete plan. Just the next thing. Liv's fingers found the edge of Birgitta's dress. “This really is fast-drop?” “Yes.” “Show me.” Birgitta stepped back half a pace. One practiced release. The dress opened and fell. Liv stared at the mechanism first. Then Birgitta. Her eyebrows rose. “That is absurd.” “Lena is very good.” “Apparently.” Birgitta stepped free of the fabric. Liv's attention stayed on her. Natural brown eye. Black cybernetic eye. Same expression behind both. Desire. That was uncomplicated enough. Liv touched her waist again. Birgitta let her. Then Liv kissed her. The room became smaller. Conversation shortened. Hands replaced some of it. Liv took her time discovering what she liked. Birgitta did the same. Sometimes one of them asked. Sometimes the answer was obvious. Sometimes it changed. The uncertainty Liv had brought downstairs didn't disappear. It became useful. A reason to notice. A reason not to assume. When Liv pulled Birgitta toward the bed, Birgitta followed. When she stopped, Birgitta stopped. When she wanted more, she said so. Birgitta liked that. More than liked it. The booking remained work. The pleasure inside it was still real. Liv discovered that Birgitta liked being kissed slowly until patience became impossible. Birgitta discovered that Liv's gold filament warmed noticeably when her pulse rose. Neither fact had been on a menu. Good. They kept going. Close. Unhurried. Until uncertainty had become choice often enough that neither of them was thinking about the difference anymore. Later, Liv lay beside her. Breathing slowly. One arm across Birgitta's waist. Neither moved to get up. Not yet. Birgitta looked at the ceiling. Liv said: “Five.” Birgitta laughed. “You ruined it.” “What?” “The moment.” “You were counting.” “I was not.” “You absolutely were.” Birgitta turned her head. Liv was smiling. “Fine.” “Five.” “Five.” “Tied?” “Tied.” Liv laughed. Then became quiet again. Her fingers moved once against Birgitta's side. “I know why I picked you now.” Birgitta waited. “You didn't need me to arrive with an answer.” That was close to what Liv had said downstairs. Not exactly the same. Birgitta looked at her. “I didn't have one either.” Liv smiled. “Exactly.” They stayed still. That mattered. The booking didn't end at the moment the pleasure did. Birgitta had already learned that. Maybe she had known it before tonight. Different context. Same truth. Eventually Liv sat up. Birgitta followed. Clothes returned slowly. Birgitta picked up the dress. Liv watched her put it back into place. One adjustment. Elegant again. As though it had never been on the floor. Liv shook her head. “Still absurd.” “Still Lena.” “I need her number.” Birgitta laughed. “No.” “Worth asking.” They left together. --- Mandi saw them before they reached the others. Her eyes moved to Liv. Then Birgitta. Then Birgitta's smile. “Oh, fuck you.” Birgitta raised five fingers. Mandi raised five. “Tied.” “Tied.” Liv looked at Mandi. “She was counting.” “I knew it.” “I was not.” Both women ignored her. Mandi asked Liv: “Good?” Liv looked at Birgitta. Birgitta waited. “Very.” Mandi nodded. Professional acknowledgment. No joke. No territorial nonsense. Just another worker hearing that a client had been happy. Birgitta liked that. Liv turned toward her. “Again?” “Yes.” The answer came immediately. Liv smiled. “Good.” She hugged Birgitta. A proper one. Then stepped away. “Good luck.” “With what?” Liv pointed between Birgitta and Mandi. “Whatever this isn't.” Mandi laughed. Birgitta smiled. Liv disappeared into the crowd. For a moment Birgitta watched her go. Then Mandi bumped her shoulder. “Five.” “Yes.” “You're actually good.” Birgitta turned. Mandi's expression was teasing. The words weren't. Something in Birgitta settled. “Thank you.” Mandi nodded once. Then immediately ruined it. “Still new-girl effect.” “You bitch.” Mandi laughed. Nova and Vega wandered over. Vega looked after Liv. “Repeat?” “Yes.” Nova nodded. “Good.” Again. Simple. Professional. Birgitta looked at them. These women had spent the evening evaluating her without knowing they were evaluating Reyes. They had watched her work. Watched clients return happy. Watched her discover that she loved something none of them had expected Reyes to try. Their approval mattered precisely because they didn't know who they were giving it to. Birgitta smiled. Vega pointed. “Thinking face.” “Oh, fuck all of you.” They laughed. A movement at Lizzie's entrance pulled several eyes away. White. Sera. The woman from earlier walked beside her. The booking was over. They stopped just outside. The woman said something Birgitta couldn't hear. Sera smiled. The woman hugged her. Sera returned it. No performance. No display. The woman walked away looking calmer than she had when she'd entered. Three people nearby immediately began whispering. Mandi sighed. “Here we go.” Nova looked toward the closest cluster. “Eight million.” Vega stared. “Already?” “Apparently.” Dalia joined them. “Someone near the corner says ten.” Deja smiled. “I win.” “You didn't bet,” Dalia said. “I should have.” Sera approached. Her gaze moved naturally through the group. Nova. Vega. Dalia. Deja. Mandi. Birgitta. No pause. No secret. No sign that she knew anything about Birgitta that the others didn't. Perfect. Mandi pointed at her. “How much?” “No.” “Come on.” “No.” “Five?” Sera smiled. “No.” “Ten?” “No.” “Twenty?” “No.” Birgitta laughed. Mandi turned. “Don't encourage her.” “I'm enjoying this.” “I noticed.” Sera looked at Birgitta. “Another booking?” “Yes.” “Good?” “Very.” Sera nodded. “Five?” Birgitta held up five fingers. Mandi immediately matched her. Sera looked between them. “You're competing.” “No,” Birgitta and Mandi said together. Nova laughed. Vega laughed harder. Dalia shook her head. Deja looked offended on behalf of language itself. Sera's mouth curved. Birgitta met her eyes. For a fraction of a second, there was another conversation there. Not recognition. That had already happened. Something simpler. _Having fun?_ Birgitta didn't answer with a gesture. Didn't need to. Her smile probably did it for her. Sera looked away first. Nobody noticed. Exactly as it should be. Birgitta leaned back against the rail. Five bookings. Mandi beside her. Sera carrying a secret no one else could see. And several hours of night still ahead. For the first time since putting on Birgitta's face, Reyes wasn't wondering whether the cover would hold. It had held. Now she wanted to see what Birgitta would do with the rest of the night. --- # CHAPTER 17 — PROFESSIONAL INTEREST The competition lasted exactly three minutes before both competitors became distracted. Mandi first. A woman approached her from the direction of the food stalls. Birgitta recognized her. Silver cybernetic arm. Same woman Mandi had already left with earlier. Mandi recognized her too. Her smile changed immediately. Not bigger. More focused. The woman stopped in front of her. “Still working?” “Yes.” “Good.” Mandi glanced at Birgitta. Birgitta narrowed her eyes. Don't you fucking dare. Mandi smiled. Then looked back at the woman. “Again?” “Yes.” No negotiation. Apparently none was needed. The woman offered her hand. Mandi took it. As they started toward Lizzie's, Mandi looked back. Raised five fingers. Then one more. Six. Birgitta stared. Mandi blew her a kiss. “You bitch.” Mandi laughed and disappeared through the entrance with her client. Vega leaned against the rail. “That hurt.” “No.” “It hurt.” “I'm happy for her.” “Liar.” Birgitta folded her arms. “Professional solidarity.” Nova nodded solemnly. “Obviously.” Deja laughed. Dalia didn't. She was watching someone. Birgitta followed her gaze. A man had stopped several meters away. Mid-forties. Good clothes. Minimal visible chrome. His attention was on Deja. Deja had noticed. Of course she had. She looked at him. Then at Dalia. Not asking with words. Dalia's fingers moved slightly around the leash. Wait. Deja waited. The man approached. “Working?” Deja opened her mouth. Dalia answered. “She is.” The man's eyes moved to Dalia. Then to the leash. Understanding arrived. Or at least enough of it. “Can I talk to her?” Dalia looked at him. Not Deja. Him. “Why?” The man blinked. Birgitta almost smiled. Good question. “I'd like to book her.” “That isn't what I asked.” Deja's mouth twitched. The man noticed. He thought. “I saw her earlier.” Dalia waited. “With the woman.” Still nothing from Dalia. “She looked happy.” Deja's expression changed slightly. The man continued. “I liked that.” Dalia finally looked at Deja. Not for permission. Not tonight. Just looked. Deja held her gaze. Dalia turned back to the man. “You can talk to her.” The difference was immediate. Deja shifted half a step. Not away from Dalia. Into the conversation. “Hi.” The man smiled. “Hi.” Dalia remained beside them. Leash in hand. Present. Birgitta watched for several seconds. Then deliberately looked away. Not because she wasn't interested. Because Deja deserved not to have six friends staring at every prospective client. Vega apparently reached the same conclusion. She nudged Nova. “Food.” “I have food.” “You have three pieces left.” “Because you stole half of it.” “I saved you from overeating.” Nova stared at her. “You are a terrible working partner.” “Still your working partner.” Nova's expression softened despite herself. She offered Vega one of the remaining pieces. Vega took two. “Fuck you.” Vega kissed her briefly on the temple. “Love you too.” Nova shoved her shoulder. Partner. Clean. Easy. Birgitta smiled. Then noticed Sera watching her. Not Nova and Vega. Her. Birgitta lifted her eyebrows. Sera looked away. Interesting. --- Without Mandi beside her, Birgitta discovered that standing still felt different. For most of the night, someone had been talking. A client. Mandi. Nova. Vega. Dalia. Deja. Suzie. Now there was a gap. She could have filled it. Walked farther down Jig-Jig. Made eye contact. Smiled at somebody. Found number six. The possibility was everywhere. A man with luminous blue lines under translucent skin looked at her twice. A woman in a sharply cut suit slowed when Birgitta met her eyes. Two women walking arm in arm glanced at Birgitta, whispered to each other and laughed. Any of them might become a booking. Birgitta did nothing. Not because she was tired. She wasn't. Not because five was enough. Five felt absurdly good. But she had started noticing something about herself. The number wasn't actually what she wanted. Beating Mandi would be hilarious. Absolutely. She intended to remind Mandi of it for an unreasonable amount of time if it happened. But the bookings she remembered most clearly weren't numbers. Tomas. Emil. Katja and Jonas. Liv. Not because they had been increasingly unusual. They hadn't. Because each had asked something different of her. Patience. Attention. Adaptation. Curiosity. Liv had arrived without knowing what she wanted. That had been enough. Birgitta looked along the street. She didn't need number six. Not yet. She wanted the next person who made her curious. That was different. “Good.” Birgitta turned. Sera had moved beside her. “What?” “You didn't go after them.” “Who?” Sera nodded toward the two women walking away. Birgitta watched them disappear into the crowd. “They were interested.” “Yes.” “So?” Birgitta looked at Sera. “So nothing.” Sera waited. Birgitta sighed. “I could probably have gotten the booking.” “Yes.” “I didn't want it enough.” Sera nodded. There was no judgment in it. Birgitta looked at her. “What?” “Nothing.” “You're doing it again.” “Doing what?” “Being irritatingly pleased about something and refusing to explain.” Sera smiled. “You noticed.” “I've known you for almost an hour.” The sentence escaped before Birgitta could evaluate it. Sera's eyes changed. Tiny. Birgitta felt her own mistake. Not a factual mistake. Birgitta had known Sera for almost an hour. Still— Sera smiled. Publicly. “Long enough, apparently.” Good. Recovered. Nobody nearby reacted. Birgitta leaned closer by a fraction. “Behave.” “I am.” “That is highly debatable.” Sera's hair lifted faintly at the ends. Birgitta looked toward the street again. For a while they stood without talking. Two strangers. At least to everyone else. That was becoming strangely comfortable. A client approached Sera. Young woman. Maybe late twenties. Chrome along both forearms. She stopped with visible determination. “Sera?” “Yes.” “I know the rule.” Sera waited. “Seven figures.” “Yes.” The woman named an amount. Birgitta didn't react. Sera didn't either. “Why me?” Sera asked. The woman had clearly prepared for the money question. Not that one. “Because…” She stopped. Sera waited. The woman looked briefly embarrassed. “Because you're beautiful?” Sera smiled. “So are a lot of people here.” The woman glanced around. Fair. Then back. “I've wanted you since I saw your work at the gallery.” Sera's attention sharpened. “Which work?” The woman named one. Birgitta didn't recognize the title. Sera did. “What did you like about it?” The woman began answering. And changed. Nerves didn't disappear. They became irrelevant. She talked about composition. About something in the piece that had made her angry. Then made her return the next day. Sera listened. Really listened. The booking negotiation vanished for several minutes. Art replaced it. Birgitta watched. Eventually the woman stopped. Apparently remembering why she had approached. “Sorry.” “Why?” “I didn't come here to review your work.” “I asked.” The woman smiled. Sera looked at her for another moment. Then: “Yes.” The woman blinked. “Yes?” “Yes.” Her smile became enormous. Sera held out her hand. The woman took it. They headed toward Lizzie's. Birgitta watched them go. No idea what the offer had been beyond seven figures. Didn't matter. She understood the yes. That bothered her slightly. Not because she disagreed. Because she understood it so quickly. A person had become interesting. Sera had chosen. Birgitta smiled. “Fuck.” Vega had returned. “What?” Birgitta looked at her. “I learned something.” “Dangerous.” “Very.” Vega leaned beside her. “What?” Birgitta nodded toward Sera disappearing inside. “The money really is just the door.” Vega shrugged. “With Sera? Pretty much.” Birgitta thought about that. Then about her own twenty-five thousand and one. Different scale. Same underlying problem. A price could tell somebody whether they were allowed to ask. It couldn't tell either person whether the answer should be yes. Interesting. --- Dalia's prospective client was still there. That surprised Birgitta. He and Deja had moved a little away from the main group. Dalia remained with them. The conversation looked relaxed now. Deja laughed at something the man said. Dalia didn't. She watched him. Birgitta knew that expression. Mai could make people feel as though they were being evaluated without ever telling them what the test was. Apparently Dalia could too. Eventually the man looked at her. “Can I book her?” Dalia considered. Deja waited. No visible impatience. No attempt to influence the answer. That mattered. Dalia looked at Deja. Then back to him. “No.” The man blinked. Deja did not. “Okay.” No argument. Good. He looked at Deja. “Another night?” Deja smiled. “Maybe.” Then at Dalia. A tiny movement. Not permission now. Acknowledgment. The man nodded and left. Birgitta watched him disappear. Deja waited until he was out of earshot. Then looked at Dalia. “I liked him.” “I know.” “I would have said yes.” “I know.” Deja smiled. Not disappointed. Not quite. Interested. “Why no?” Dalia stepped closer. Her voice dropped. Birgitta couldn't hear the answer. Good. She looked away. The point wasn't why. The point was that Dalia had decided. Deja had asked her to. And Deja was accepting the decision even when it wasn't the one she would have made. Tonight I choose not to choose. Birgitta understood the sentence better every time she watched them. Not submission as absence. Submission as deliberate weight handed to someone else. And Dalia carrying it. That was the part people could miss. The leash was easy to see. The responsibility wasn't. Birgitta filed that away too. Apparently tonight was becoming educational. Annoying. She had intended to fuck people. Now she was developing theories. Reyes would be insufferable about this tomorrow. Birgitta smiled. Then caught herself. That thought had been ridiculous. Reyes was going to be the one being insufferable. She was Reyes. Mostly. Probably. Fuck. --- Mandi returned. Birgitta knew before seeing her because Nova said: “Six.” Birgitta turned. Mandi was walking toward them with the silver-armed woman beside her. Both looked satisfied. Very. The client stopped. Kissed Mandi. Not a polite goodbye. A proper one. Mandi returned it. When they separated, the woman touched Mandi's cheek. “Tomorrow?” Mandi smiled. “If I'm working.” “You should be.” “I'll consider it.” The woman left. Mandi watched her for several seconds. Then turned. Saw Birgitta. Raised six fingers. Birgitta raised five. Mandi's smile became unbearable. “One behind.” “For now.” “You've been standing here.” “Yes.” “Why?” “Quality control.” “Bullshit.” “Professional development.” “Worse.” Vega laughed. Mandi moved closer. “You had prospects.” “Yes.” “And?” “Didn't want them.” Mandi's expression changed. Not much. The teasing stayed. Something more serious appeared underneath. “Good.” There it was again. That word. Birgitta looked at her. Mandi shrugged. “You don't have to take every booking.” “I know.” “Knowing and doing are different.” Birgitta nodded. Fair. Mandi leaned against the rail beside her. “So what are you waiting for?” Birgitta looked at the street. “I don't know.” Mandi followed her gaze. “That again?” “Yes.” “You're weird.” “So I've been told.” Mandi smiled. Then: “You're picking experiences.” Birgitta turned. Mandi wasn't looking at her. She was watching the crowd. “What?” “Not clients.” Birgitta stayed quiet. Mandi continued. “Tomas was nervous.” Birgitta looked at her sharply. Mandi ignored it. “The couple had the watcher thing.” “Emil.” “Whatever.” “You asked.” “I didn't.” “You absolutely did.” Mandi waved it away. “Then the shepherd and his handler.” “Jonas and Katja.” “And Liv didn't know what she wanted.” Birgitta stared. Mandi finally looked at her. “What?” “You've been paying attention.” “I'm good at my job.” Right. Of course she had. Birgitta smiled. Mandi continued. “You're not looking for weird.” “No.” “You're looking for different.” Birgitta considered. “Maybe.” “Different from the last one.” That was closer. Birgitta nodded slowly. “Yes.” Mandi smiled. “There.” “What?” “Thinking face.” “Oh, fuck you.” Mandi laughed. --- Sera returned before Birgitta found number six. Her client came out with her. They were still talking about art. That was obvious even without hearing the words. The woman's hands moved as she spoke. Sera answered. The conversation continued outside for another minute. Then the woman stopped. Smiled. Kissed Sera lightly. Sera returned it. The client left. Sera watched her go. No announcement. No number. No indication of what had happened upstairs beyond the fact that both women looked pleased. Mandi waited approximately four seconds. “How much?” Sera turned. “No.” “Worth trying.” “No.” “Did you fuck?” Sera looked at her. Mandi smiled. “Worth trying.” Sera walked over. Birgitta laughed. Mandi pointed at her. “Don't side with her.” “I absolutely side with her.” “Traitor.” Sera stopped beside Birgitta. Looked at Mandi. Then at the five fingers Birgitta raised before Mandi could ask. Sera nodded. “Still five.” “She's losing,” Mandi said. “I am selectively available.” “You're losing selectively.” Birgitta looked at Sera. “Can you remove her?” “No.” “You're useless.” Sera smiled. Then looked toward the street. A pause. Long enough that Birgitta noticed. Sera looked back at her. “Want to work together?” Silence. Not much. Half a second. Maybe less. Still enough. Birgitta hadn't expected the question yet. Mandi's head turned. Vega's too. Nova looked interested. Deja stopped listening to whatever Dalia had been saying. Birgitta looked at Sera. Publicly, they had met less than an hour ago. Privately, Sera knew exactly who she was. That made the question much more interesting. “What kind of booking?” Sera shrugged. “If we find one.” Not an invitation to disappear upstairs together. Not yet. Work. A pair. Two joytoys available together. Birgitta smiled. “You're seven figures.” “Offers start there.” “And I'm twenty-five thousand and one.” “Yes.” “That pricing makes no sense.” “No.” Mandi laughed. Birgitta looked at her. “Don't.” “I didn't say anything.” “You were going to.” “Yes.” Sera's mouth curved. Birgitta looked back at her. “Why me?” There. The question mattered. Sera could have answered privately. She didn't. Because everyone was listening. “Because I've watched you.” Birgitta waited. “You pay attention.” Mandi nodded. Birgitta glanced at her. “You too?” “Unfortunately.” Sera continued. “You don't panic when the booking changes shape.” Birgitta thought about Liv. Tomas. Jonas and Katja. “You ask instead of assuming.” Sera's eyes stayed on hers. “And you're curious.” True. Every word. Nothing that required knowing Reyes. Nothing that exposed them. Birgitta felt something warm settle in her chest anyway. Expert review. Again. Except this time from the one person here who knew exactly who was underneath. And Sera was still evaluating Birgitta. Not Reyes. Interesting. Birgitta smiled. “Okay.” Mandi straightened. “Wait.” Birgitta looked at her. “What?” “You're pairing with Sera.” “If we find a booking.” Mandi looked at Sera. Then Birgitta. Then Sera again. “This is bullshit.” “Why?” “Seven figures.” Sera nodded. “Twenty-five thousand and one.” Birgitta nodded. Mandi spread both hands. “What the fuck is the pair price?” Birgitta looked at Sera. Sera looked at Birgitta. Neither had an answer. Vega started laughing. Nova joined her. Dalia smiled. Even Deja laughed. Mandi pointed at them both. “No. Seriously.” Birgitta considered. Then smiled. “Ask the client.” Sera's eyebrows rose. Mandi stared. Then slowly smiled. “Oh, that's dangerous.” Birgitta looked at Sera. Sera's silver-white hair lifted faintly. “Good.” They moved away from the rail together. Not touching. No secret signal. No familiarity beyond what the street had seen them build tonight. Two joytoys. One famous enough that seven figures only opened the conversation. One on her first shift, five bookings deep, discovering she was much better at this than anyone had expected. They stopped where prospective clients could see them. Birgitta looked at Sera. Sera looked back. “Two strangers,” Birgitta said quietly. Sera smiled. “Exactly.” And this time, when people began looking at them together, neither looked away. # CHAPTER 18 — TOGETHER The first thing Birgitta learned about working beside Sera was that people became cowards. Individually, they had been approachable. Sera attracted attention simply by existing. Birgitta had spent most of the night discovering that smiling at the right person could turn a second glance into a conversation. Together— Nothing. People looked. A lot. Nobody came closer. Birgitta waited. Sera waited. Thirty seconds. A minute. Two. Birgitta kept smiling. Not constantly. That would have been strange. She leaned against the rail beside Sera and watched Jig-Jig move around them. A woman with transparent synthetic hands looked directly at them. Whispered something to her companion. Both looked. Neither approached. A man in a sharply cut silver jacket slowed. Looked at Sera. Looked at Birgitta. Saw Sera looking back. Accelerated. Birgitta laughed. “What?” Sera glanced at her. “You scared him.” “I looked at him.” “Exactly.” Sera smiled. Farther away, Mandi was watching. Birgitta caught her eye. Mandi raised both hands. _Well?_ Birgitta gave her one finger. Mandi laughed. Sera saw. “Professional.” “Very.” Another minute. A couple stopped near a food stall. Both women. One in a red jacket. The other with a full chrome jaw polished to a mirror finish. They were absolutely looking. Birgitta met the first woman's eyes. Smiled. The woman smiled back. Said something to her partner. They discussed it. Looked again. Sera remained still. The woman in red took one step toward them. Stopped. Her partner said something. They both laughed. Then walked away. Birgitta stared after them. “This is ridiculous.” “Yes.” “You do this alone?” “Not usually this badly.” Birgitta turned. “It's me?” “Probably.” “Fuck you.” Sera laughed. Birgitta folded her arms. “No, seriously.” Sera looked along the street. “You're new.” “Yes.” “People have been watching you work all night.” “Apparently.” “You're expensive enough to be interesting.” “Thank you.” “And I'm me.” Birgitta looked at her. Sera shrugged. “Together they don't know what they're buying.” That was interesting. Birgitta looked at the people looking at them. Sera was right. Individually, the signals were simple enough. Birgitta: new premium, twenty-five thousand and one, curious, approachable, visibly enjoying herself. Sera: seven figures just to make an acceptable offer, no guarantee she would accept, known reputation, impossible to ignore. Together— What the fuck was the offer supposed to look like? Birgitta smiled. “I like it.” “Of course you do.” “It's a problem.” “Yes.” “Problems are interesting.” Sera looked at her. There was the smallest flicker of _Reyes_ in the expression. Gone immediately. “Of course you think that.” Birgitta almost answered as herself. Caught it. Instead she smiled brightly. “You've known me an hour. You're learning fast.” Sera's mouth twitched. “Apparently.” Two strangers. Still holding. --- Mandi lasted six minutes. Then she walked over. “I can't watch this anymore.” Birgitta looked at her. “Watch what?” “You two terrifying everyone.” “We're not doing anything.” “That's the problem.” Sera looked mildly interested. Mandi pointed down the street. “There are at least nine people currently discussing you.” Birgitta looked. Several people immediately pretended they hadn't been looking. “Eleven,” Sera said. Mandi turned. “You counted?” “No.” Birgitta laughed. Mandi stared at both of them. “See? This.” “What?” “This weird calm thing.” Sera looked at Birgitta. Birgitta looked at Sera. Mandi groaned. “Stop that too.” Birgitta smiled. “Jealous?” “No.” “Six bookings and still insecure.” “Five.” “Six.” “You have five.” “I know.” “Then why did you say six?” “You have six.” Mandi paused. “Oh.” Birgitta stared. “You forgot your own count?” “I've been busy.” “Unbelievable.” Mandi recovered. “Still winning.” “Temporarily.” “Then get a client.” Birgitta gestured toward the street. “They're frightened.” “Because you're standing beside a woman whose opening bid could buy an apartment.” Sera looked at her. “Not a good apartment.” Mandi closed her eyes. Birgitta laughed. “Okay. I'm leaving.” “You came here.” “I regret it.” Mandi started walking away. Then turned back. “Smile more.” Birgitta looked offended. “I smile constantly.” “Not you.” They both looked at Sera. Sera smiled. Mandi pointed. “That. Do that.” Then left. Birgitta watched her go. “She thinks she's helping.” “She probably is.” “You're defending her.” “I like her.” Birgitta smiled. “So do I.” That answer was too easy. Because it was true in several directions. Sera didn't react. Good. --- The first person who actually approached them wasn't a client. It was another joytoy. Male. Tall. Dark blue synthetic skin with a subtle metallic sheen. Two small polished horns rose from his forehead. Not demonic. Fashion. He stopped a few meters away. “Okay.” Birgitta smiled. “Okay what?” “I have to ask.” Sera waited. He pointed between them. “Are you working together?” “Yes,” Birgitta said. “Potentially,” Sera said at exactly the same time. They looked at each other. The joytoy laughed. “That answered nothing.” Birgitta pointed at Sera. “Her fault.” Sera looked innocent. The man folded his arms. “So somebody can book both of you.” “If we accept,” Sera said. “And what's the rate?” Birgitta smiled. “We don't know.” He stared. “You don't know.” “No.” “That's incredible.” “Thank you.” “That wasn't praise.” “I accepted it anyway.” He laughed. Sera's hair lifted faintly. The man looked at her. “Seven figures?” “For an acceptable offer to me.” Then at Birgitta. “Twenty-five thousand and one?” “Yes.” He looked between them. “That is the stupidest pair pricing I've ever seen.” Birgitta nodded. “We've established that.” “I love it.” “See?” He laughed again. Then walked away. Birgitta watched him immediately get intercepted by two other joytoys demanding information. Within seconds, hands started moving. People looked toward Sera and Birgitta. “Oh, no.” Sera followed her gaze. “What?” “We've created a rumor.” Sera smiled. “You've been on Jig-Jig all night and you're still surprised?” “Fair.” The information spread. Not a price. That would have been easier. Something much more useful to Night City. **Sera and the new girl were taking pair offers.** The effect was immediate. People who had been looking started looking differently. Calculation became possibility. Birgitta saw it happen. A couple who had passed twice stopped passing. A woman at the bar entrance started talking urgently to the man beside her. Three corpos near the curb turned into an impromptu financial committee. Birgitta smiled. “There.” Sera nodded. “They understand now.” “Do we?” “No.” “Good.” --- The first actual offer came from a man alone. Late forties. Expensive suit. Gold dermal tracing along his throat. He approached confidently. Too confidently. Birgitta noticed Sera notice it too. Interesting. “Sera.” “Yes?” He barely looked at Birgitta. That answered something already. “I'll give you two million.” Sera waited. “For both.” Birgitta smiled. Sera didn't. “No.” The man blinked. “I haven't said what I want.” “No.” He looked at Birgitta for the first time. Then back to Sera. “Three.” “No.” “Four.” Sera's expression remained pleasant. “No.” His irritation appeared. Tiny. Enough. “What number?” “There isn't one.” He stared at her. Birgitta watched him decide whether money had ever failed him before. Apparently not often. He looked at Birgitta. “You?” “No.” That surprised him more. “You don't even know what I want.” Birgitta smiled. “No.” “Then why?” “Because you haven't spoken to me once except to ask why I'm saying no.” Silence. Sera said nothing. Didn't rescue him. Didn't rescue Birgitta either. Good. The man looked between them. Then laughed once. Cold. “Your loss.” He walked away. Birgitta watched him disappear. Sera waited until he was well out of hearing range. “Good.” Birgitta looked at her. “Don't.” “What?” “You're doing the approval thing.” “I said one word.” “Yes.” “Would you prefer a detailed review?” “No.” Sera smiled. Birgitta leaned slightly closer. “Did you know I was going to say no?” “Yes.” “Before I did?” “Yes.” “Fuck you.” Sera laughed. From across the street, Deja looked over. Birgitta immediately straightened. Sera did too. Nothing to see. Deja returned her attention to Dalia. Birgitta exhaled. “You are dangerous.” “Yes.” “I'm beginning to understand why people pay seven figures.” Sera glanced at her. “Careful.” Birgitta smiled. “Professional observation.” “Of course.” --- The second offer was better. Not financially. As people. Two women. Older than Birgitta had expected. Perhaps early fifties. One tall and slender, natural silver threaded through short black hair. The other shorter, broad-shouldered, with dark curls and visible chrome running along both temples. They approached holding hands. Not nervously. Not confidently either. Together. That mattered. The taller woman looked at Sera first. Then deliberately at Birgitta. “Hi.” Birgitta smiled. “Hi.” Sera nodded. “Hello.” The shorter woman laughed softly. “We've been arguing for ten minutes about whether this is a terrible idea.” Birgitta looked at their joined hands. “Conclusion?” “Still arguing.” “Promising.” The taller woman smiled. “My name's Elise.” “Rana.” Birgitta nodded. “Birgitta.” “Sera.” Elise looked at Sera. “We know.” Sera smiled. Rana looked embarrassed. “Sorry.” “Don't be.” Elise took a breath. “We'd like to make an offer.” Sera waited. Birgitta did too. Elise named the number. Seven figures. Comfortably. Birgitta kept her face neutral. Rana immediately added: “That's for Sera.” Elise looked at Birgitta. “And your rate separately.” “Twenty-five thousand and one.” Rana blinked. “One?” Birgitta smiled. “One.” Elise laughed. “Fine.” Money wasn't the problem. Good. Sera asked: “What do you want?” Elise and Rana looked at each other. That look lasted long enough to contain history. Rana answered. “We've been together twenty-six years.” Birgitta's attention sharpened. Elise squeezed her hand. “We've done almost everything together.” Rana laughed. “That's not true.” “Enough.” “Better.” Sera waited. Elise continued. “We don't want a performance.” Birgitta glanced at Sera. Sera didn't react. “What do you want instead?” Birgitta asked. Rana looked at her. “Two people who can join us without turning us into spectators.” Oh. Interesting. Elise nodded. “We don't want one of you working on one of us while the other pair does something else.” Rana continued. “And we don't want to sit there while you two perform for us.” Sera asked: “You want all four people involved.” “Yes.” “Without fixed pairings.” Elise smiled. “Yes.” Birgitta felt curiosity arrive immediately. There. That was it. Not because four people were unusual. They weren't. Because the request was precise without being scripted. Nobody sidelined. Nobody reduced to audience. Nobody assigned permanently to anyone. A shared booking. Sera looked at Birgitta. Publicly. A working partner checking another working partner. Nothing more. Birgitta nodded once. Sera looked back at the women. “Yes.” Rana's eyebrows rose. “That easy?” “No,” Sera said. Birgitta smiled. “You just gave a good answer.” Elise laughed. “Is that what we've been doing?” “Apparently.” Rana looked at Birgitta. “And you?” “Yes.” No hesitation. Sera's offer transferred first. Birgitta deliberately didn't look at the number after confirmation. Not her business. Her own followed. Twenty-five thousand and one. Confirmed. Rana looked between them. “So what happens now?” Birgitta smiled. “Now we stop negotiating on the street.” Sera held out her hand. Elise took it. Birgitta offered hers to Rana. Rana smiled and took it. They walked toward Lizzie's. --- Mandi intercepted them halfway. Not physically. With her voice. “Oh, you have got to be kidding me.” Birgitta stopped. Turned. Mandi was staring at the four of them. Birgitta smiled. “Problem?” “You got one.” “We got one.” Mandi looked at Sera. Then Elise. Rana. Back to Birgitta. “Does that count as six?” Birgitta considered. “One booking.” “Two clients.” Birgitta's smile widened. “Oh.” Mandi immediately regretted speaking. “No.” “Two clients.” “One booking.” “You started this logic.” “I did not.” “You absolutely did.” Sera looked at Elise and Rana. “They've been doing this all night.” Rana laughed. Mandi pointed at Sera. “Don't help her.” “I'm not.” Elise looked at Birgitta. “How many?” “Five.” Mandi said: “Five.” Birgitta pointed at the two women. “Seven.” “No!” Vega burst out laughing somewhere behind Mandi. Nova joined her. Dalia covered her mouth. Even Deja looked delighted. Birgitta held up seven fingers. Mandi stared. “That is fraud.” “Client count.” “Booking count!” “You didn't specify.” “We have always been counting bookings!” “Rules evolve.” “You fucking cheat.” Birgitta smiled sweetly. “Six, then.” Mandi narrowed her eyes. “Tied.” “Tied.” “Still.” “For now.” Sera looked at Birgitta. “Are we going?” “Yes.” Mandi called after them: “I'M COUNTING THAT AS ONE.” Birgitta walked backward for three steps. “SIX!” “TIED!” Birgitta turned around laughing. Rana looked at her. “You really enjoy annoying her.” “More than I expected.” Sera made a tiny sound. Birgitta glanced at her. Sera's expression was perfectly innocent. Reyes knew better. They entered Lizzie's. --- The room was larger than the one Birgitta had used with Liv. Not dramatically. Enough. Elise noticed. “Good.” Rana closed the door. The street disappeared. Four people remained. And suddenly the thing that had sounded simple outside became much more complicated. Not difficult. Complicated. Birgitta liked that. Sera looked at Elise. “You said no fixed pairings.” “Yes.” Rana nodded. “And nobody watching from the edge.” “Unless they want to for a minute,” Birgitta said. Rana smiled. “Exactly.” “Anything either of you don't want?” They answered. Nothing surprising. A few clear boundaries. Sera added hers. Birgitta added hers. No checklist. No ceremony. Just enough that nobody had to guess about the important things. Then silence. Not awkward. The moment after talking and before doing. Birgitta looked at Sera. That was the dangerous part. Not because Reyes didn't know Sera. Because she did. Too well. Every instinct wanted to use familiarity. To anticipate. To move as two people who had spent years learning each other's rhythms in rooms, missions, kitchens, cars, safehouses. Not sexual familiarity. Something broader. More deeply practiced. Knowing when Sera would move before she moved. Knowing when she was about to speak. Knowing when silence meant wait. Birgitta couldn't use too much of that. Elise and Rana believed these women had met tonight. So Birgitta waited. Sera did too. Rana laughed. “What?” Elise looked between them. “You both just waited for the other one.” Birgitta smiled. “New partnership.” Sera nodded. “Apparently.” Rana stepped closer. “Then we'll help.” She kissed Birgitta. No warning beyond the movement itself. Birgitta met her halfway. Good. That solved the first problem. Elise went to Sera. Her hand touched Sera's waist. Sera smiled. Then Elise kissed her. Two pairs. For perhaps ten seconds. Then Birgitta remembered the request. No fixed pairings. She broke the kiss gently. Rana looked at her. Birgitta smiled. Then reached for Elise. Elise understood immediately. Changed places without anyone making it mechanical. Sera moved toward Rana. Better. The room loosened. Hands moved. People changed positions. Nobody stayed attached to one person long enough for the evening to split into two separate bookings. Birgitta began learning. Elise kissed slowly. Rana didn't. Sera could make Rana laugh with almost no effort. Elise liked watching her partner laugh but didn't disappear into watching. When her attention drifted too far toward Rana, Birgitta touched her hand. Elise looked back. Smiled. Returned. There. That was what they had asked for. Not equal time measured in minutes. Presence. Birgitta understood. Clothing began to disappear. Sera's white couture required more care than Birgitta's dress. Rana stared when Birgitta's fast-drop released. “That is unfair.” Birgitta stepped free. “Professional equipment.” Elise laughed. Sera looked at the dress on the floor. “Lena?” Birgitta's eyes snapped to her. Half a second. Sera realized it. Too late. Rana looked between them. “You know her designer?” Sera didn't blink. “I know Lena's work.” True. Birgitta smiled. “She's very good.” Elise nodded toward Sera's own white couture. “And yours?” Sera answered. Conversation moved on. Birgitta filed the moment away. Not a failure. A reminder. Sera knew. Knowing made forgetting to pretend possible. They would have to be careful. Then Rana kissed Birgitta again and careful acquired a different meaning. The room warmed. The structure they had discussed became unnecessary because all four had understood it. Elise drew Sera close. Birgitta kissed Rana. Then Rana reached for Sera without letting go of Birgitta. Sera came willingly. Elise followed. Four became a changing shape rather than pairs. Hands. Kisses. Laughter when somebody's knee found the wrong place. A pause to rearrange. Another kiss. Someone asking: “Good?” Three answers. Yes. Birgitta stopped thinking about performance. That was when the booking became good. Not when everyone stopped paying attention. When attention stopped feeling like work. She found herself between Elise and Rana. Then beside Sera. Then across from her. Once their eyes met over Rana's shoulder. Sera smiled. Birgitta nearly smiled back as Reyes. The old familiar one. Smaller. Sharper. She caught it halfway. Changed it into Birgitta's open grin. Sera saw. Of course she saw. Nothing else changed. Good. Rana pulled Birgitta closer. The next stretch of time lost clean edges. Pleasure built in different directions. No single person became the center. When somebody needed a moment, the room adjusted rather than stopping. When somebody wanted more, she asked. When the first release came, it didn't end anything. It changed the rhythm. The others stayed close. Nobody rolled away. Nobody became audience. Exactly what Elise and Rana had asked for. Later, when Birgitta's own pleasure finally crested, she had one hand tangled with Rana's and Elise close against her shoulder. Sera was there too. Near enough that Birgitta could hear her breathing. The world narrowed. Then slowly widened again. Nobody moved immediately. Good. Birgitta had learned to value that stillness. Four people catching their breath. Skin cooling. Hands remaining where they had landed because there was no reason yet to remove them. Rana laughed first. Quietly. Elise turned her head. “What?” “That worked.” Elise smiled. “Yes.” Sera's voice came from somewhere close. “Excellent review.” Rana laughed harder. Birgitta opened her eyes. “Five stars?” “Four.” Birgitta looked offended. Rana touched her cheek. “One for each of us.” “Oh.” “Idiot.” Birgitta smiled. “Fair.” They stayed there a little longer. No rush. The booking was not over simply because nobody was moving. Eventually Elise said: “This was what we meant.” Sera looked at her. “Good.” “We've tried this before.” Rana groaned. “Badly.” Birgitta smiled. “What happened?” “Two pairs.” Elise nodded. “Immediately.” “And then?” “Exactly what we didn't want.” Birgitta understood. Tonight hadn't done that. Not perfectly. There had been moments. But they had noticed. Adjusted. Returned. Rana looked at Birgitta. “You really are new?” “Yes.” She laughed. “Fuck you.” Birgitta smiled. “I get that a lot.” Sera said nothing. But Birgitta could feel the amusement beside her. --- They dressed slowly. Sera's couture survived the room with offensive dignity. Birgitta's dress snapped back into elegance in seconds. Rana stared again. “I still hate that.” “You're jealous.” “Yes.” Elise kissed Sera before they left. Then Birgitta. Rana did the same in reverse. No ownership of who had belonged with whom. Nice. At the door, Elise paused. “We'd do that again.” Birgitta looked at Sera. Publicly. A working partner. Sera nodded. “So would I.” Birgitta smiled. “Me too.” They returned to Jig-Jig together. The street hit them with neon and noise. Mandi was waiting. Of course she was. She looked at Elise. Rana. Sera. Birgitta. Then raised six fingers. Birgitta sighed. “You've been standing there rehearsing that.” “Yes.” Elise laughed. Rana pointed at Mandi. “I like her.” “Don't encourage her,” Birgitta said. Mandi looked at the clients. “Well?” Elise smiled. “Worth it.” Mandi's expression softened into something genuinely professional. “Good.” Rana hugged Birgitta. Elise hugged Sera. Then they swapped. Another pair of hugs. They walked away holding hands. Birgitta watched them disappear. Mandi stepped beside her. “Six.” Birgitta raised six fingers. “Tied.” “Tied.” Sera stood on Birgitta's other side. For several seconds nobody said anything. Then Mandi looked between them. “How was working together?” Birgitta glanced at Sera. Sera let her answer. “Easy.” That was true. Too true. Mandi nodded. “Looked like a good fit.” Birgitta felt Sera beside her. No movement. No reaction. “Maybe,” Birgitta said. Mandi smiled. “Oh, you're doing that again.” “What?” “Pretending you haven't already decided.” Birgitta laughed. “Fuck off.” Mandi walked away. Sera remained. They watched the street. Two strangers again. Birgitta spoke quietly enough that only Sera could hear. “You almost fucked up with Lena.” “Yes.” “Almost.” “Yes.” A pause. “Successful cover, Sera.” Sera turned. Birgitta smiled. Sera stared at her for one second. Then laughed. Not loudly. Enough. Birgitta's smile widened. There. One point back. Sera shook her head. “You're enjoying this.” “I fucking love it.” This time Sera knew exactly how many meanings the answer carried. Nobody else did. And that was becoming half the fun. --- # CHAPTER 19 — SIX Mandi refused to let the tie become background information. This became apparent within thirty seconds. “Six.” Birgitta didn't look at her. “Yes.” “Six.” “Yes, Mandi.” “Six.” Birgitta turned. Mandi stood beside Vega wearing the expression of a woman who had discovered a new and highly efficient method of being punched. “What?” “Nothing.” “Then why do you keep saying it?” Mandi smiled. “Six.” Birgitta looked at Sera. “Can I kill her?” “No.” “Why?” “Bad for business.” Mandi pointed at Sera. “See? Professional.” Birgitta sighed. Nova wandered over. “What did I miss?” “Six,” Mandi said. Nova nodded. “Ah.” Birgitta stared. “Don't encourage her.” “I didn't.” “You understood that.” “Yes.” “How?” Vega leaned toward Birgitta. “You've been saying numbers at each other all night.” “That doesn't make it normal.” “No,” Vega said. “Nothing about any of you is normal.” Fair. Birgitta looked down Jig-Jig Street. The night had changed. Not visibly. The same neon. The same noise. The same impossible collection of bodies moving through light. A woman with polished porcelain-white synthetic skin walked past carrying noodles. Behind her, a man with six luminous optical implants was arguing with a vending machine. Two joytoys leaned against a railing, one human-looking enough to disappear into any corpo lobby in the city, the other wearing a sculpt that gave her long swept-back ears and skin patterned like black marble. Nothing stopped. Nothing explained itself. But Birgitta felt different inside it. Six bookings. That number was ridiculous. She had walked into Lizzie's earlier tonight unsure whether Suzie Q would even let her work. Now people knew the name Birgitta. Not many. Enough. Clients had started looking for her instead of merely noticing her. Other joytoys knew there was a new premium working the street. And somewhere in the endless machinery of Jig-Jig gossip, somebody was probably already telling somebody else about the copper-grey-haired woman who had taken a full-conversion shepherd and his handler upstairs and come back smiling. Reyes had wanted a test. Birgitta was becoming a person. That hadn't been part of the plan. She liked it. That probably should have worried her more. It didn't. “Thinking face.” Birgitta closed her eyes. “Vega.” “Yes?” “I will pay you twenty-five thousand and one eddies to never say that again.” Vega considered. “Per occurrence?” Birgitta opened her eyes. Nova burst out laughing. Mandi looked delighted. “She's learning.” “Fuck all of you.” Sera stood quietly beside Birgitta. Too quietly. Birgitta looked at her. Sera's mouth was twitching. “You too.” “I didn't say anything.” “You thought it.” “Yes.” “Bitch.” Sera smiled. Perfectly innocent. Birgitta was beginning to hate how much fun this was. --- Deja had become quiet. Not unhappy. Quiet. Birgitta noticed because Deja's attention had shifted inward. She still watched the street. Still responded when somebody spoke to her. Still stayed naturally near Dalia. But something from the earlier rejected client had remained. Dalia noticed too. Of course. She moved closer. No dramatic gesture. Just enough that their shoulders almost touched. “You're thinking.” Deja glanced at her. “Apparently that's contagious tonight.” Birgitta heard. Pointed. “Leave me out of this.” Deja smiled. Dalia didn't look away from her. “The man?” “Yes.” “You wanted him.” “Yes.” No embarrassment. No attempt to soften it. Dalia nodded. “And I said no.” “Yes.” “Regret giving me the choice?” Deja answered immediately. “No.” Dalia waited. Deja looked toward the street. “I don't understand why you said no.” “You don't have to.” “I know.” That answer mattered. Dalia's expression softened. Deja continued. “I still want to understand.” “Later.” Deja looked back at her. “Later?” “Yes.” A tiny smile. “Okay.” Dalia's hand lifted. Two fingers touched under Deja's chin. Brief. Affectionate. Then dropped. The leash remained in her other hand. Deja exhaled. Something settled. Birgitta looked away before the moment became something she was stealing. She had watched enough tonight to understand the important part. Dalia had said no. Deja would have said yes. And Deja still didn't want the decision back. --- A prospective client approached Sera. He was perhaps fifty. Tall. Broad. Dark green suit. A narrow strip of chrome ran vertically through his lower lip and chin. He stopped in front of her. “Working?” “Yes.” The answer seemed to relax him. Not because he could possibly have doubted it. Sera was standing on Jig-Jig Street in white couture that probably cost more than his car, and half the district had spent the evening discussing her offers. The question wasn't about that. It opened the conversation. “I'd like an hour.” Sera waited. He named an amount. Seven figures. Mandi's eyebrows rose. Birgitta had no idea whether that meant high, low or merely interesting. Sera asked: “Why me?” The man blinked. “For an hour.” “No. Why me?” He looked at her. The rehearsed confidence faltered. “You're Sera.” “Yes.” Silence. He smiled uncertainly. “Isn't that enough?” “No.” The man considered. Apparently found nothing else. Sera smiled. “Then no.” He looked stunned. Not offended. Mostly confused. “You're turning that down?” “Yes.” He laughed. “Okay.” To his credit, that was all. He left. Birgitta watched him disappear. Then looked at Sera. “You really enjoy doing that.” “No.” “Bullshit.” Sera looked at her. “I enjoy saying yes.” That stopped Birgitta. Sera continued. “I don't enjoy saying no. I just don't mind it.” Oh. That was different. Birgitta nodded. “Good distinction.” Sera smiled. Mandi had heard. “So what gets a yes?” Sera looked at her. “You know.” “I know what gets a yes from me.” “Exactly.” Mandi considered that. Then shrugged. “Fair.” Birgitta looked between them. Another tiny piece of the work. Not a trick. Not a technique. Preference. The right to have one. Obvious. Still worth seeing. She thought about the people she'd accepted tonight. Tomas. Emil. Katja and Jonas. Liv. Elise and Rana. There wasn't a category. No obvious shared body type. No single gender. No single dynamic. What connected them? Curiosity. Yes. But not only hers. They had all arrived with something real. Nerves. Trust. A relationship dynamic. Uncertainty. A clear request. Something. They had given her a person to meet rather than a transaction to complete. Interesting. She liked that. “Thinking face.” Birgitta pointed without looking. “Mandi, I swear to God.” “That was me,” Sera said. Birgitta turned slowly. Sera smiled. “Oh, you fucking traitor.” Mandi nearly folded over laughing. --- The next man who stopped in front of Birgitta looked almost aggressively ordinary by Jig-Jig standards. Late thirties. Handsome. Athletic. Minimal visible chrome. Expensive jacket without a visible brand screaming from it. He had looked at Birgitta twice from farther down the street. Now he walked over. Stopped in front of her. “Working?” “Yes.” “Birgitta?” “Yes.” “Twenty-five thousand and one?” Birgitta smiled. “Word travels.” “It does.” “What's your name?” “Daniel.” “Hi, Daniel.” “Hi.” He smiled. Easy. No visible nerves. No attempt to perform confidence either. Good start. “What are you looking for?” “Honestly?” “Preferably.” “Sex.” Straightforward. Nothing wrong with that. Birgitta waited. Daniel laughed softly. “That sounded incredibly unimaginative.” “It sounded honest.” “Good.” “What kind?” “The kind where I don't have to think very hard for an hour.” There. Birgitta's interest sharpened. Daniel continued. “Long day. Too many people wanting decisions. Too many meetings. Too many messages. I saw you. You're beautiful. I've heard you're good.” “Already?” “Apparently.” Birgitta smiled. “And I want an hour where nothing needs to become complicated.” Birgitta looked at him. Earlier tonight, she might have thought that wasn't interesting enough. Now she knew better. Different didn't have to mean unusual. Katja and Jonas had been unusual. Liv had arrived without knowing what she wanted. Elise and Rana had brought twenty-six years of relationship into the room with them. Daniel wanted the opposite. No puzzle. No discovery he was deliberately seeking. No elaborate dynamic. Just pleasure. Simple could be different too. “How much thinking are you willing to do right now?” Daniel considered. “Enough to transfer twenty-five thousand and one.” Birgitta laughed. “Excellent answer.” He transferred it. Confirmation appeared. Birgitta looked at him. “Yes.” Daniel offered his hand. She took it. From behind her: “Seven.” Birgitta stopped. Closed her eyes. Daniel looked past her. “Mandi?” “Yes.” Birgitta turned. Mandi stood near Nova with seven fingers raised. Somehow. “Since when?” Mandi smiled. “While you were philosophizing.” “I was talking to a client.” “For a very long time.” “It was ninety seconds.” “Exactly.” Birgitta stared at her. Mandi's smile widened. “Seven.” Birgitta raised six fingers. “For now.” “Behind.” “One.” “Still behind.” Daniel looked between them. “Is this part of the service?” “No,” Birgitta said. “Yes,” Mandi said. Daniel laughed. Birgitta turned back to him. “Come on.” As they started toward Lizzie's, Mandi called: “DON'T RUSH.” Birgitta kept walking. Raised one hand. One finger. Daniel laughed. “Friend?” Birgitta looked at him. “Met tonight.” “Huh.” “What?” “Nothing.” “That's not nothing.” “You argue like old friends.” Birgitta's smile held. Careful. “She's easy to argue with.” Behind them Mandi shouted: “I HEARD THAT.” Birgitta laughed. Saved by Mandi being Mandi. --- Daniel really did want simple. Birgitta discovered that within minutes. No hidden confession. No unexpected partner. No unusual request. He wanted to kiss her. Undress her. Have sex. Stay close afterward for a while. That was all. And Birgitta discovered something else. She liked that too. Not every booking needed to teach her something profound. Sometimes a handsome man kissed well. Sometimes his hands felt good. Sometimes desire didn't require analysis. Daniel kissed her against the closed door. Birgitta laughed softly into his mouth when he reached for the wrong part of the fast-drop dress. “Wait.” He stopped immediately. “What?” “You'll fight with it for ten minutes.” “Challenge accepted.” “You'll lose.” He smiled. “Show me.” Birgitta released it. The dress dropped. Daniel stared at the garment on the floor. Then at her. “That's cheating.” “Professional equipment.” He kissed her again. The humor stayed for a while. Then gradually disappeared beneath want. Daniel was easy to read. Not because he was simple as a person. Because he wasn't trying to be anything else in the room. He wanted her. He showed it. Birgitta wanted him. She showed that too. Hands moved. His shirt joined her dress. Then the rest. The bed caught them. Birgitta pulled him closer. He kissed her throat. She shifted beneath him. A question in the movement. He understood. Checked anyway. “Yes?” “Yes.” He entered her carefully. Birgitta breathed out. There. No surprise. No puzzle. Just the immediate warmth and the sharp first pulse of pleasure that followed. Daniel stopped. Waited. Birgitta opened her eyes. “Don't stop.” He smiled. Then moved. The rhythm came easily. Birgitta wrapped her legs around him and let herself enjoy the simplicity of it. No need to observe from outside. No need to catalogue why this worked. It worked. That was enough. Pleasure built steadily. Daniel kissed her. Birgitta kissed him back. When she wanted more, she pulled him closer. When he changed rhythm, she answered. The room narrowed to breath, movement and the uncomplicated fact that both of them were having a very good time. Birgitta's release arrived first. She held him through it. Didn't hide it. Didn't make it larger than it was. Just let it happen. Daniel stayed with her. He followed not long after. Then stopped. They remained together for several seconds. Still. Breathing. Birgitta's hands rested against his back. Daniel lowered his forehead to hers. Neither spoke. Good. There it was again. The quiet after. Birgitta liked that perhaps more consistently than anything else tonight. The moment when nobody had to do anything. Eventually Daniel moved beside her. Birgitta stayed close. His hand rested on her hip. “That was exactly what I wanted.” She smiled. “Good.” “No psychological breakthrough?” Birgitta laughed. “Were you hoping for one?” “No.” “Then absolutely not.” “Excellent.” They stayed there. No rush. Daniel had paid for an hour. He got an hour. They talked about nothing important. Food. A terrible braindance he'd seen. A restaurant that charged enough to pretend portions were art. The fact that one of Night City's most dangerous traffic intersections apparently had an unofficial betting pool among nearby vendors. Ordinary things. Birgitta liked that too. Eventually Daniel looked at her. “You're really new?” “Yes.” “First shift?” “Yes.” “Fuck.” Birgitta turned her head. “What?” “You're going to be expensive.” She laughed. “I already am.” “No.” He looked at her. “More expensive.” Birgitta smiled. “Don't tell Mandi.” “Why?” “She'll become unbearable.” “Become?” Birgitta laughed. “Good point.” --- They dressed slowly. Daniel watched the fast-drop dress restore itself. “Still cheating.” “Yes.” At the door he kissed her once more. “Again?” “Yes.” Simple. He smiled. They went downstairs. --- The street swallowed them again. Neon. Noise. People. Mandi was talking to Nova. The instant she saw Birgitta, seven fingers appeared. Birgitta raised seven. Mandi smiled. “Tied.” “For now.” “Still counts.” Daniel looked between them. Then at Mandi. “Oh.” Mandi smiled. “What?” “You're Mandi.” “Yes.” Daniel laughed. “This explains a lot.” “It explains nothing,” Birgitta said. Daniel kissed her cheek. “Good luck.” “Thank you.” He left. Mandi watched him go. Then looked at Birgitta. “Well?” “Good.” “Interesting?” Birgitta thought about it. “Yes.” Mandi waited. Birgitta smiled. “Not like that.” “Meaning?” “He wanted sex.” “Yes?” “So we had sex.” Mandi stared. “And?” “It was great.” Mandi laughed. “Oh, thank fuck.” Birgitta frowned. “What?” “I was starting to think you'd reject anybody who didn't arrive with a thesis.” Nova laughed. Birgitta stared at her. “I do not require a thesis.” Vega appeared at exactly the wrong moment. “What thesis?” Mandi answered immediately. “Birgitta requires a dissertation before she'll fuck you.” “I do not.” Vega considered. “Minimum word count?” “Fuck you.” Nova covered her mouth. Mandi said: “Peer review mandatory.” Birgitta pointed at all three. “You are terrible people.” Sera returned to the group. “What happened?” Vega answered: “Birgitta only accepts peer-reviewed sexual proposals.” Sera looked at Birgitta. Birgitta closed her eyes. “Please don't.” A pause. Then: “Double blind?” Mandi made a sound somewhere between a scream and a laugh. Birgitta opened her eyes. “You bitch.” Sera smiled. “Six?” Birgitta raised six fingers. Mandi raised seven. Sera nodded. “One behind.” Birgitta pointed at her. “Do not encourage her.” “I stated a fact.” “Traitor.” “Yes.” Birgitta laughed despite herself. Then looked toward Dalia and Deja. They were still there. Dalia held the leash. Deja stood beside her. No booking had magically happened while Birgitta was upstairs. Good. Dalia was talking quietly to Deja. Deja listened. Then looked toward the crowd. Something in her posture changed. Expectation. Dalia had not finished choosing for the night. Birgitta felt the urge to watch. Stopped herself. She would see what happened when it happened. No need to force the next thing into existence. She looked back at the street. Seven bookings. Tied with Mandi. Sera beside her. Night still moving. Birgitta smiled. Sera noticed. “Thinking face.” Birgitta turned. Very slowly. Sera was already smiling. “Oh, you are going to fucking pay for that.” Sera's silver-white hair lifted faintly around her face. “Seven figures.” Birgitta froze. Mandi froze. Nova stared. Vega's mouth fell open. Then Birgitta laughed so hard she had to grab the rail. Mandi pointed at Sera. “That was fucking good.” Birgitta tried to speak. Failed. Sera waited. Eventually Birgitta managed: “You absolute bitch.” “Yes.” And for perhaps the first time all night, Reyes completely forgot she was supposed to be worried about being recognized. --- # CHAPTER 20 — DALIA CHOOSES Sera's seven-figure joke survived for almost five minutes. This was mostly Mandi's fault. “Say it again.” “No.” “Come on.” “No.” “It was perfect.” Sera smiled. “No.” Mandi turned to Birgitta. “Make her.” Birgitta stared at her. “You understand the fundamental problem with that sentence.” “Yes.” “Good.” “Ask nicely.” “Fuck you.” Mandi laughed. Birgitta looked down the street. She was still smiling. That was becoming dangerous. Not the smile itself. How natural it felt. Reyes smiled. Of course she did. With people she trusted. At jokes worth the effort. Sometimes at somebody else's impending disaster. Birgitta seemed to smile because the world had given her another person to look at. Different. Useful. And apparently exhausting for everyone around her. Good. A man passed. Looked at her. Kept walking. Birgitta let him. Mandi noticed. “No thesis?” “Fuck off.” “Just checking.” Then Dalia moved. Small motion. Enough. Birgitta's attention shifted immediately. Dalia had been standing with Deja near the edge of their loose group. The leash hung between them. Not taut. It hadn't needed to be all night. A woman had stopped several meters away. Birgitta hadn't noticed her approach. That alone interested her. Late thirties, perhaps. Tall. Lean. Dark hair shaved close on one side and falling to her jaw on the other. A matte-black prosthetic left arm disappeared beneath the sleeve of a weathered brown jacket. Not fashion chrome. Functional. Used. She had the posture of someone accustomed to knowing where every exit was. Not corpo. Not obviously mercenary either. She looked at Deja. Then at Dalia. Then back to Deja. She approached. Stopped at conversational distance. “Working?” Deja looked at Dalia. Dalia answered. “She is.” The woman took that in. Her eyes dropped briefly to the leash. Back to Dalia. “Can I talk to her?” Dalia studied her. “Yes.” Deja's expression changed instantly. Not dramatically. She opened. “Hi.” “Hi.” “Deja.” “Nessa.” They shook hands. Birgitta looked away. Then back. Damn it. She was interested. Mandi had noticed too. So had Sera. Nova and Vega were pretending not to. Badly. Nessa asked: “Your usual rate?” Deja told her. No negotiation. Nessa nodded. “What do you like?” Deja smiled. “That's broad.” “Deliberately.” “Good answer.” Dalia said nothing. Nessa glanced at her. Then back to Deja. “I don't want to tell you exactly what to do.” Deja's smile sharpened. “No?” “No.” “What do you want?” Nessa considered. “You.” Simple. Deja waited. Nessa corrected herself. “Whatever version of you actually wants to come upstairs with me.” That changed something. Birgitta saw it. So did Dalia. Deja looked at Nessa for another second. “I'd say yes.” Nessa's eyes moved to Dalia. Ah. She understood. Maybe not everything. Enough. “But you're not deciding,” Nessa said. “No.” “Tonight?” “Tonight.” Nessa looked at Dalia. “Then I'm asking you.” Dalia remained still. “What are you asking?” “To book Deja.” Dalia studied her. Long enough that Nessa's confidence didn't disappear, but became conscious. Birgitta watched Dalia watch. Not just the client. Deja. The space between them. The way Nessa had listened. The way she'd adjusted once she understood the arrangement. The way she hadn't tried to bypass Dalia after learning who held the decision. Dalia looked at Deja. Deja met her eyes. No nod. No plea. No hidden request to rescue her from the experiment. Nothing. Dalia looked back at Nessa. “Yes.” Deja inhaled. Tiny. There. Not relief. Something warmer. Nessa smiled. “Okay.” Dalia held out her hand. Nessa looked at it. “The payment goes to her.” “I know.” “Then?” Dalia placed the leash handle into Nessa's palm. Nessa's expression changed. Deja's did too. Dalia didn't release it immediately. “Bring her back.” Nessa looked at her. “I will.” Dalia let go. The leash settled between Nessa and Deja. Not for the first time that evening, Dalia's hand was empty. Deja looked at it. Then at Dalia. Dalia stepped close. Touched Deja's cheek. “You're going.” “Yes.” “Good.” Deja smiled. Then turned to Nessa. “Come on.” They walked toward Lizzie's. Nessa held the leash without pulling. Deja stayed beside her. Not behind. Dalia watched until they disappeared inside. Only then did she exhale. Birgitta heard Mandi murmur: “Oh.” Exactly. --- Nobody spoke to Dalia for several seconds. That was probably wise. Birgitta looked at her. Dalia was still watching the door. The control had looked effortless from the outside. It hadn't been. That was suddenly obvious. She had spent the night making decisions because Deja had asked her to. No when Deja would have said yes. Yes when Deja might not have chosen the client herself. Every decision had weight because it belonged to someone else. And now she'd handed Deja's leash to a stranger she had evaluated for perhaps five minutes. Not casually. Not symbolically. She had chosen. Mandi walked over first. “You okay?” Dalia looked at her. “Yes.” No hesitation. Mandi nodded. Didn't ask again. Good. Sera stayed where she was. Nova and Vega resumed talking quietly. Birgitta tried to do the same thing everyone else was doing. Give Dalia space. She lasted perhaps twenty seconds. Dalia looked at her. “You can ask.” Birgitta blinked. “What?” “You've been trying not to for twenty seconds.” Mandi laughed. Birgitta pointed at her. “Shut up.” Dalia smiled. Birgitta looked toward Lizzie's. “Why her?” Dalia considered. “She listened.” Birgitta waited. “When she understood the arrangement, she didn't try to turn it into a game.” That made sense. “She didn't ask Deja to overrule you.” “No.” “She asked you.” “Yes.” Birgitta nodded. “And the man earlier?” Dalia's expression shifted. There it was. The answer Deja hadn't received. “He wanted Deja.” “Nessa didn't?” “She did.” “Difference?” Dalia looked toward the entrance. “Nessa wanted Deja to be there with her.” Birgitta thought. “The man wanted to have her.” “Yes.” Subtle. Not small. Birgitta looked at Dalia. “Deja liked him.” “I know.” “And you knew she'd have gone.” “Yes.” “And you still said no.” “Yes.” No apology. Good. Birgitta smiled. “I think I understand.” Dalia's eyes narrowed slightly. “Do you?” “Probably not.” “Better.” Birgitta laughed. Mandi leaned against the rail. “Are we having a seminar again?” “No,” Birgitta said. “Good. Because your tuition is twenty-five thousand and one.” Birgitta stared. Sera laughed. Dalia's shoulders finally loosened. Good. --- Deja and Nessa were gone for a long time. Long enough for Jig-Jig to stop caring. That was one of the things Birgitta liked about the street. Everything mattered intensely until something else happened. Then life continued. A client approached Nova. “Working?” “Yes.” Conversation. A booking. Nova left. Vega watched her go, then wandered toward a food stall. Another client approached Mandi. “Working?” “Yes.” Mandi talked to him for less than a minute. “No.” He shrugged. Left. Mandi returned. Birgitta raised her eyebrows. “What?” “Nothing.” “Thinking face.” “Fuck you.” Sera smiled. Mandi looked at her. “Don't.” Sera said nothing. Somehow worse. A woman approached Birgitta. “Working?” “Yes.” “You're Birgitta?” “Yes.” “I heard about the shepherd.” Of course she had. Birgitta smiled. “What did you hear?” The woman grinned. “Enough.” “That's unlikely.” “Probably.” She was attractive. Confident. Interesting enough that Birgitta might normally have continued. But something didn't click. No dislike. No warning. Just— not now. The woman asked: “Twenty-five thousand and one?” “Yes.” “Want to?” Birgitta considered. Then smiled. “No.” The woman blinked. “Okay.” No offense. No bargaining. “Another night?” “Maybe.” “Fair.” She left. Mandi stared at Birgitta. “What?” “You said no.” “Yes.” “To somebody who mentioned the shepherd.” “Yes.” “I thought that was your entire brand now.” Birgitta looked offended. “I have depth.” “Citation needed.” Sera turned away. Too late. Birgitta saw the smile. “You're both terrible.” “Yes,” Mandi said. Sera remained wisely silent. --- Nova returned. Vega saw her first. Her face brightened. Not theatrically. Simply because her working partner was back. Nova approached. Vega bumped her shoulder. “Good?” Nova smiled. “Good.” Vega linked an arm through hers. They moved toward the food stall together. Easy. Public. Working partners. Nothing more needed. Birgitta watched them for a moment. Then Lizzie's door opened. Deja came out first. Nessa beside her. The leash remained in Nessa's hand. Dalia straightened. Not much. Enough. Deja saw her. And smiled. That answered the first question. Nessa walked with her all the way back. Didn't drop the leash halfway. Didn't turn it into a joke. They stopped in front of Dalia. Nessa held out the handle. Dalia took it. Only then did Nessa let go. “Thank you.” Dalia looked at her. “Good?” Nessa smiled. “Very.” Deja said: “Yes.” Dalia's eyes moved to her. A private check in public space. Deja stepped closer. Not waiting for permission. Just close. Dalia touched her waist. Briefly. Then looked at Nessa. “Thank you.” Nessa nodded. She turned to Deja. “Again?” Deja's first instinct showed. She looked at Dalia. Stopped. Ah. Still tonight. Still the arrangement. Nessa noticed too. Her smile changed. She looked at Dalia instead. “Again?” Dalia considered. Then: “Ask another night.” Nessa nodded. No disappointment worth making into a problem. “Another night.” She kissed Deja's cheek. Then left. Deja watched her go. Dalia held the leash again. The circle had closed. Almost. --- Deja turned to Dalia. “That one I would have chosen.” “I know.” “Good.” Dalia's eyebrows rose. “Good?” Deja smiled. “You got it right.” Dalia stared at her. Then laughed once. “That isn't how this works.” “I know.” “You don't grade me.” “I absolutely grade you.” “No.” “A plus.” “Deja.” “With distinction.” Dalia pulled lightly on the leash. Deja stepped closer immediately. Very close. “Careful.” Deja's smile widened. “There she is.” Birgitta looked away. So did Mandi. This time immediately. Some things really did belong to the people inside them. A few seconds later Dalia spoke. “Done.” Birgitta looked back. Deja had gone still. Not alarmed. Listening. Dalia lifted the leash handle slightly. “Tonight's experiment.” Deja looked at her. “Already?” “Yes.” Interesting. Deja glanced toward the street. The night was nowhere near over. Then back to Dalia. “Why?” “Because I said so.” Deja froze. Dalia's expression changed. A smile. Deja laughed. “Oh, fuck you.” Dalia laughed too. Then she unclipped the leash. Not removed from Deja entirely. Unclipped from Dalia's control. She placed the handle into Deja's hand. “Your decisions are yours again.” The humor disappeared. Not the warmth. Deja looked down at the leash in her own hand. Then at Dalia. “Okay.” Dalia waited. Deja breathed in. Out. “Okay.” Something subtle changed in her posture. Birgitta couldn't have named it if she hadn't spent the entire evening watching. Not freedom returning. Deja had never lost freedom. Responsibility returning. Different thing. Dalia touched her cheek. “How was it?” Deja thought. “Hard.” Dalia nodded. “Good.” “Hot.” Dalia smiled. “Expected.” “Annoying.” “Also expected.” Deja stepped closer. “And I want to do it again.” Dalia's eyebrows rose. “Not tonight.” “No.” “Good.” Deja looked at the leash handle. Then smiled. “Next time longer.” Dalia stared at her. “Of course.” Mandi whispered: “She created a monster.” Birgitta whispered back: “I think the monster was pre-existing.” Deja turned. “I can hear you.” Birgitta smiled brightly. “Hi.” “Bitch.” “Apparently.” Dalia laughed. Then Deja looked down Jig-Jig Street. Really looked. For the first time all evening, nobody else was deciding what she did next. Birgitta watched the realization settle. Deja smiled. “Oh.” Dalia looked at her. “What?” “I can pick.” “Yes.” Deja's smile widened. Mandi took one step backward. “No.” Deja looked at her. “What?” “I know that face.” “You don't know anything.” “I know enough.” Deja scanned the street. Dalia folded her arms. No leash in her hand now. No decision to make. Just watching. Deja spotted something. Her entire expression changed. Birgitta followed her gaze. Then stopped. Across Jig-Jig Street, near the edge of the crowd, stood a full-conversion sculpt. Not Jonas. Different person. Different breed. Different build. Still unmistakably canine. Deja went completely still. Birgitta felt the smile beginning before she could stop it. Oh. No. Mandi saw Deja. Then the full-conversion. Then Birgitta. “What?” Birgitta shook her head. “Nothing.” Mandi narrowed her eyes. “You know something.” “I know nothing.” Sera looked at Birgitta. Sera knew that expression. Not why. Just that Reyes had information. Deja took one step. Stopped. Looked at Dalia. Habit. Dalia raised both empty hands. “Not mine.” Deja remembered. Her decision. Her smile became dangerous. “Oh.” Birgitta bit the inside of her cheek. Do not laugh. Do not reveal anything. Deja started across the street. Dalia watched her go. Then glanced at Birgitta. Birgitta kept her face innocent. Dalia narrowed her eyes. “What?” “Nothing.” “You're smiling.” “I smile a lot.” Sera made a quiet sound. Birgitta looked at her. Don't. Sera smiled. “Thinking face.” Birgitta groaned. Across the street, Deja reached the full-conversion. Stopped. And, perfectly according to Jig-Jig protocol, waited. The prospective client turned toward her. “Working?” Deja's smile could have powered half the district. “Yes.” --- # CHAPTER 21 — HER CHOICE “Yes.” Deja said it too quickly. Not desperately. Not quite. But quickly enough that Birgitta had to look somewhere else. Anywhere else. A noodle sign. Excellent sign. Very interesting. Red letters. Steam damage along one edge. Probably overdue for maintenance. Fascinating. “You're staring at a sign,” Sera said. “I like signs.” “No, you don't.” Birgitta turned her head. Sera was watching her. Not Deja. Her. Dangerous woman. “I've developed an interest.” “In signs.” “Yes.” “Tonight.” “Yes.” Sera's mouth moved. Barely. Birgitta narrowed her eyes. Don't. Sera looked across the street. Birgitta followed despite herself. Deja was still talking to the full-conversion. Up close, the differences from Jonas were obvious. Jonas's German shepherd sculpt had carried the recognizable proportions of the breed into an anthropomorphic frame: alert ears, dark muzzle, dense coat, powerful shoulders. This one was leaner. Long-legged. Short-coated. A Doberman sculpt. Male. Black and rust coloration translated cleanly across an upright human architecture, with a narrow canine head, cropped-looking sculpted ears and an athletic build that looked designed for speed rather than mass. He wore dark trousers and a sleeveless jacket. No handler. No leash. Deja stood in front of him looking as if she'd just discovered that Night City had personally designed a customer acquisition strategy for her. Birgitta looked away again. Mandi noticed. “You're doing something.” “No.” “You absolutely are.” “What would I be doing?” “I don't know.” “Then I'm not doing it.” Mandi looked toward Deja. Then back. “You knew she'd do that.” “Do what?” “That.” “Talk to a client?” Mandi narrowed her eyes. Birgitta smiled. Bright. Open. Birgitta. Not Reyes trying desperately not to laugh at Kiro. Mandi remained suspicious. Dalia was worse. She wasn't looking at Birgitta at all. She was looking at Deja. And smiling. Not surprised. Oh. That was interesting. Birgitta looked at Dalia. Dalia caught it. Birgitta raised one eyebrow. Dalia's smile became slightly wider. Fuck. Did Mai know? Probably. Maybe. No way to ask without blowing a hole through the entire cover. Sera watched the silent exchange. She knew neither half of it. Excellent. Now everybody had different pieces of the same joke. Night City was cruel. Birgitta loved it. --- Across the street, Deja was doing surprisingly well. That surprised Birgitta only because the first three seconds had suggested catastrophic loss of higher brain function. The Doberman said something. Deja laughed. Recovered. Asked a question. He answered. Then looked briefly toward the group across the street. Birgitta immediately found the noodle sign interesting again. Sera sighed. “You're terrible at pretending not to watch.” “I am excellent at it.” “You turned your entire head.” “Natural movement.” “Very.” Mandi looked between them. “How do you two already annoy each other this much?” Birgitta answered immediately. “Talent.” Sera said: “Practice.” Silence. Birgitta looked at Sera. Sera looked at Birgitta. Mandi's eyes narrowed. Fuck. Sera smiled. “An hour is plenty of practice.” Birgitta laughed. “Unfortunately.” Mandi considered them for another second. Then Deja laughed across the street again and Mandi's attention shifted. Good. Sera leaned a fraction closer. “Careful.” “You said practice.” “You said talent.” “Mine was plausible.” “So was mine.” “Barely.” Sera smiled. Two strangers. Right. Birgitta looked across the street again. This time she didn't pretend otherwise. --- Deja returned alone. Birgitta blinked. That she hadn't expected. Deja crossed the street at an ordinary pace. No rush. No disappointment visible. The Doberman remained where he was, talking to another man now. Deja rejoined the group. Mandi spoke first. “Well?” Deja looked at her. “Well what?” Mandi stared. “You crossed the street like you'd seen God.” “I did not.” “You absolutely did.” Dalia's mouth twitched. Deja noticed. “You too?” “I didn't say anything.” “You're smiling.” “So are you.” Deja tried to stop. Failed. Birgitta had to bite the inside of her cheek again. Sera noticed. Of course. Mandi pointed toward the Doberman. “Booking?” “No.” That got everyone's attention. Even Birgitta's carefully managed expression almost broke. “No?” Vega asked. Deja looked at her. “No.” “Why not?” Deja shrugged. “He's waiting for somebody.” Simple. Mandi looked over. “Oh.” “He was nice.” Dalia asked: “Would you have?” Deja looked at her. There was no decision to hand over now. No leash in Dalia's hand. No special rule. Just a question. “Yes.” Immediate. Dalia laughed. Deja pointed. “Don't.” “I didn't say anything.” “You didn't have to.” Birgitta looked down. Bad idea. Now she was visibly hiding a smile. Mandi saw. “There!” Birgitta looked up. “What?” “You know something.” “I know many things.” “About this.” “No.” Deja looked at Birgitta. Really looked. Birgitta smiled at her. “Hi.” Deja's eyes narrowed. “Why are you being weird?” “I've known you for a few hours. How would I know what your normal is?” That landed. Deja paused. Right. Birgitta was new. Deja didn't know her. The suspicion dissolved. Mostly. “Fair.” Sera turned her face away. Birgitta knew exactly why. Bitch. Dalia looked at Birgitta. Longer. Not suspicious in the same way. Evaluating. Birgitta met her eyes. Dalia finally looked away. That one had been closer. Interesting. Reyes knew Mai too well. Apparently that danger ran both directions. --- The Doberman's companion arrived three minutes later. A woman. Tall. Black hair. Bright yellow jacket. She greeted him with a kiss. Then looked around Jig-Jig. Deja watched. Mandi watched Deja watching. Birgitta watched Mandi watching Deja watching. Sera watched Birgitta. This had become ridiculous. The woman in yellow said something to the Doberman. He pointed. Directly toward Deja. Deja froze. Mandi made a delighted noise. “Oh, no.” Deja looked at her. “What?” “They're coming over.” They were. The pair crossed the street together. Deja straightened. Dalia remained beside her. Not in control now. Just there. The Doberman stopped in front of Deja. The woman beside him smiled. “Working?” Deja smiled back. “Yes.” There it was. Clean. Normal. The same question every time. The woman offered her hand. “I'm Tessa.” “Deja.” They shook. The Doberman touched his chest. “Rik.” Deja nodded. “Hi again.” Rik's canine mouth curved into an unmistakable smile. “Hi.” Tessa looked at Deja. “Rik says you two talked.” “A little.” “He also says you looked disappointed when he said he was waiting for me.” Deja looked at Rik. Rik's ears moved slightly. Birgitta nearly died. Not externally. Internally. Completely. Deja folded her arms. “I was not disappointed.” Rik's ears moved again. Mandi turned away. Her shoulders shook. Dalia covered her mouth. Sera's hair lifted faintly. Vega looked confused. Nova looked delighted anyway. Tessa laughed. “He thought it was cute.” Deja looked at Rik. “You told her?” “Yes.” “Traitor.” Rik smiled. Tessa looked between them. Then: “We were going to find somebody together.” Deja's expression changed. “Oh.” Tessa smiled. “That's why we're here.” There was a very small silence. Then Deja remembered to be a professional. Good recovery. “What are you looking for?” Tessa shrugged lightly. “Someone we both like.” Deja looked at Rik. Then Tessa. “And?” Rik answered. “We both like you.” Deja's composure developed a visible crack. Tiny. Beautiful. Birgitta looked at the noodle sign. Again. Sera whispered: “You're going to hurt yourself.” “Shut up.” “What?” Mandi looked over. Birgitta smiled. “Nothing.” Tessa continued. “We've done this before.” Deja returned her attention to them. “Together?” “Yes.” “Anything specific tonight?” Tessa looked at Rik. Rik looked at her. “No script,” Tessa said. “We'd rather see if we click.” Deja nodded. That sounded like her kind of answer. Birgitta knew that. Birgitta was not supposed to know that. Stop knowing things. Deja asked a few more questions. Good ones. Normal ones. Boundaries. Expectations. Whether either of them wanted the other to stay involved throughout. They did. No spectator. No handler dynamic. Just a couple looking for a third person they both wanted. Deja listened. Then looked at Dalia. Habit again. Only for a fraction of a second. Dalia did nothing. Didn't nod. Didn't smile. Didn't rescue her from the decision. Deja caught herself. Looked back at Tessa and Rik. Her decision. She smiled. “Yes.” Tessa smiled back. Rik's ears lifted. Oh, for fuck's sake. Birgitta turned away completely. Mandi caught her. “Why do you keep doing that?” “Doing what?” “Looking away every time his ears move.” Birgitta's brain stopped. Sera's eyes widened by perhaps half a millimeter. Dalia looked at Birgitta. Deja looked at Birgitta. Fuck. Birgitta smiled. “Because they're adorable.” Rik heard. His head turned. Deja's eyes narrowed. Birgitta kept smiling. Tessa laughed. “They are.” She reached up and rubbed one briefly. Rik leaned into it. Deja watched. There. That look. The same one after Jonas. Not identical. Close enough. Birgitta knew. Mandi didn't. Nova didn't. Vega didn't. Dalia— Dalia was now watching Deja. Then Birgitta. Then Deja again. Oh, Mai absolutely knew something. Maybe not the Jonas moment. But Kiro? Yes. Probably. Dalia's smile became dangerous. Birgitta looked away. Not at the sign this time. That would be suspicious. She chose a passing motorcycle. Excellent motorcycle. --- Payment transferred. Deja checked it. Tessa offered her hand. Deja took it. Rik walked on her other side. No leash. No borrowed control. No decision delegated. Deja had chosen this herself. As they headed toward Lizzie's, Dalia called: “Deja.” Deja turned. Dalia smiled. “Have fun.” Deja looked at Tessa. Then Rik. Then back at Dalia. “Oh, I intend to.” Mandi made a noise. Deja laughed and continued toward the entrance. Rik's ears moved again when she said something to him. Birgitta watched this time. Fuck it. It was funny. The three disappeared inside. Silence. One second. Two. Mandi turned to Dalia. “What the fuck was that?” Dalia looked innocent. “What?” “You know.” “No.” “Yes, you do.” Dalia smiled. Mandi turned to Birgitta. “And you.” “I've met Deja tonight.” “Bullshit.” Birgitta's heart gave one hard beat. Mandi pointed toward Lizzie's. “You both knew she'd pick him.” Ah. Safe. Birgitta laughed. “Look at him.” Mandi paused. “Fair.” Vega nodded. “Very fair.” Nova looked at Dalia. “You knew.” Dalia shrugged. “I know Deja.” There. True. Nothing dangerous. Mandi looked at Birgitta. “You don't.” “No.” “Then how?” Birgitta smiled. “I have eyes.” Sera made a choking sound. Birgitta turned. Sera was looking away. “You okay?” “Yes.” “You sound unwell.” “Fine.” Mandi looked between them. “You two are weird.” Birgitta smiled. “We've established that.” --- Dalia moved beside Birgitta a few minutes later. Not obviously. The others were arguing about food again. Sera had been approached by another prospective client. Mandi was watching the conversation. Dalia stood at the rail. Birgitta beside her. Neither looked at the other. Dalia spoke quietly. “You noticed before.” Birgitta's pulse changed. “Noticed what?” “The canine thing.” Danger. Birgitta laughed softly. “Everyone noticed.” “Not like you.” Birgitta looked at her. Dalia's expression was mild. Not accusing. Curious. Mai looking through Dalia. Reyes looking through Birgitta. Two covers standing side by side. Only one of them knew it. Birgitta smiled. “Deja isn't subtle.” Dalia considered. “No.” There. Enough. She looked back toward Lizzie's. “Apparently not.” Birgitta almost relaxed. Then Dalia added: “You remind me of someone.” Fuck. Birgitta didn't move. “Good someone?” Dalia looked at her. “Annoying someone.” Birgitta laughed. That part was easy. “I know several.” Dalia smiled. Then walked away. Birgitta remained at the rail. Sera appeared beside her perhaps ten seconds later. No idea how much she'd heard. Probably enough. “Successful cover, Reyes.” Birgitta didn't look at her. “Fuck you.” “That was close.” “Yes.” “Mai?” “Yes.” Sera nodded. Of course she understood immediately. Birgitta finally looked at her. “She doesn't know.” “No.” “She noticed something.” “Yes.” Birgitta exhaled. Then smiled. “Good.” Sera looked at her. “Good?” Birgitta turned toward the street. “Would've been disappointing if Mai never got close.” Sera smiled. There she was. Reyes. For just a second. Then Birgitta brightened again as Mandi approached. “What are you two whispering about?” Birgitta answered immediately. “You.” Mandi stopped. “Why?” Sera said: “Seven.” Mandi stared. Birgitta started laughing. “Goddammit.” Sera smiled. Mandi pointed at her. “You're learning.” Sera's silver-white hair lifted around her face. “I have an excellent teacher.” Birgitta laughed harder. Mandi looked between them. Still seeing two women who had met tonight. Still missing the joke completely. Perfect. Inside Lizzie's, Deja was discovering exactly what happened when the first choice after giving control back to herself involved a Doberman full-conversion and his girlfriend. Birgitta hoped she had a very good time. For professional reasons. Obviously. --- # CHAPTER 22 — COLLEAGUE Mandi bought food. This became everyone's problem. She returned from the stall carrying a cardboard tray large enough to feed six people and immediately announced: “I don't know what half of this is.” Vega looked inside. “Why did you buy it?” “It smelled good.” “That is not a reason.” “It is the best reason.” Nova reached into the tray. Mandi slapped her hand. “Wait.” Nova stared at her. “You bought food for everyone.” “Yes.” “And I can't eat it.” “You can.” “You just hit me.” “You didn't ask.” Nova looked at Vega. Vega shrugged. “She has rules.” “I do not have rules.” Birgitta laughed. Mandi turned. “You want some?” “Yes.” Mandi offered the tray. Birgitta reached. Mandi slapped her hand. Birgitta stared at her. “You said yes.” “You didn't ask.” “You just asked me.” “Different protocol.” Birgitta looked at Sera. “Can I kill her now?” “No.” “Still bad for business?” “Mostly.” Mandi grinned. Birgitta folded her arms. “May I have some food, Mandi?” “Yes.” “Thank you.” She reached. Mandi didn't slap her. Progress. Birgitta took something on a stick. It was hot. Spicy. Possibly meat. Possibly an argument against asking too many questions. She bit into it. “Oh.” Mandi looked pleased. “Right?” Birgitta chewed. “What is it?” “No idea.” “Excellent.” Sera took one. Vega finally got one. Nova waited pointedly. Mandi sighed. “Yes, Nova.” “Thank you.” “You're welcome.” Dalia joined them last. She took one without asking. Mandi did not slap her. Birgitta pointed. “Favoritism.” Dalia bit into it. “Absolutely.” --- It was absurdly normal. That was what struck Birgitta. Five premium joytoys and Sera standing on Jig-Jig Street sharing unidentified food while Deja was upstairs with a Doberman and his girlfriend. People passed. Some looked. Some didn't. A pair of tourists slowed down when they recognized Mandi. One whispered something. The other looked toward Sera. Stopped walking entirely. Sera noticed. Ignored them. Birgitta watched. Earlier tonight, she had been outside this. Even while standing in it. Every glance had been data. Every conversation a test. Would they recognize her? Would the voice hold? Would the mesh convince? Would Birgitta's body language survive contact with people who knew Reyes? Would Suzie believe her? Would Mandi? Dalia? Deja? Nova and Vega? All yes. Then Sera had ruined perfection. Naturally. But Sera had also proved something better. She knew. And nobody else did. Now Birgitta wasn't testing every second. She was eating something probably illegal in three districts and listening to Mandi argue with Vega about sauce. “You put too much on.” “There is no such thing.” “There absolutely is.” “You're weak.” “My tongue is numb.” “Skill issue.” Birgitta laughed. Vega looked at her. “Don't encourage her.” “I'm not.” “You laughed.” “That was sympathy.” “For who?” Birgitta considered. “The sauce.” Nova nearly dropped her food. Mandi pointed at Birgitta. “See? She gets it.” “I regret everything.” Sera said: “You're fitting in.” Birgitta looked at her. That landed harder than it should have. Mandi answered before Birgitta could. “She is.” Birgitta turned. Mandi was eating. No joke. No suspicion. Nothing hidden. Just a statement. New girl. New working partner. She is. Birgitta smiled. “Thanks.” Mandi looked at her. “For what?” “Nothing.” “Okay.” And went back to eating. Perfect. --- A prospective client approached Vega. “Working?” “Yes.” The conversation began. Birgitta didn't automatically listen. That was new too. She noticed only when Vega laughed. The client was a short woman with gold synthetic eyes and a beautifully tailored charcoal suit. They talked. Vega asked something. The woman answered. Vega smiled. Payment transferred. They left together. Nova watched her working partner go. Then stole Vega's abandoned food. Mandi pointed. “That was hers.” “She left.” “You could save it.” Nova took a bite. “I am.” “For yourself.” “Yes.” “Monster.” Nova smiled. Birgitta watched them. No analysis required. She knew who they were. She knew exactly what sat underneath Nova and Vega. But Birgitta wasn't supposed to know. Strangely, that had become easier. At first she'd had to actively subtract Reyes's knowledge from every interaction. Now she didn't. She let herself know. She simply chose what Birgitta could show. Much easier. Much safer. Perhaps that was the real trick. Not forgetting yourself. Never forgetting yourself. Just knowing which parts belonged outside. Reyes had spent years doing versions of that. Birgitta was simply louder about it. --- “Working?” Birgitta turned. A man stood in front of her. Early forties. Dark skin. Silver implants traced from both temples toward the back of his skull. Beautiful coat. Calm expression. “Yes.” “Birgitta?” “Yes.” “Twenty-five thousand and one?” She smiled. “Yes.” He nodded. “I'm Malik.” “Hi, Malik.” “Hi.” He glanced toward Mandi. Then Sera. Then back. “You're the new one.” “Apparently.” “First night?” “Apparently.” Malik smiled. “That answer sounds dangerous.” “Why?” “Because either it is your first night and you're enjoying the rumor, or it isn't and everybody's wrong.” Birgitta liked him immediately. Not necessarily enough to book. Enough to continue. “It is.” “Your first?” “Yes.” “And?” “And what?” “Do you like it?” Interesting question. Not what are you willing to do. Not how many clients. Not whether the stories were true. Do you like it? Birgitta considered giving the easy answer. Didn't. “Yes.” Malik watched her. “That sounded surprised.” “It is.” “Good surprise?” “Yes.” “Then I'm glad.” No attempt to turn the answer into an opening. He simply meant it. Birgitta tilted her head. “What are you looking for?” “Tonight?” “Yes.” “Nothing.” Birgitta blinked. Malik smiled. “I wanted to meet you.” “You approached a working joytoy to not book her?” “Yes.” “That's inefficient.” “I'm wealthy.” Birgitta laughed. Mandi looked over. Malik continued. “I've heard your name three times in the last hour.” “Only three?” “Four now.” “Better.” “And the stories don't agree.” Birgitta smiled. “What stories?” “One says you're Mandi's new competition.” Mandi shouted from behind her: “TRUE.” Birgitta closed her eyes. Malik laughed. “One says you're some kind of full-conversion specialist.” “Not true.” “One says you and Sera are offering pairs.” “Sometimes true.” “One says you turned down a woman five minutes after taking a couple upstairs.” “Also true.” Malik nodded. “So I thought I'd meet the person before the stories became useless.” Birgitta looked at him. That was unexpectedly sensible. “And?” “Too early.” “For what?” “An opinion.” Birgitta smiled. “I like you.” “Good.” “Still not booking?” “Not tonight.” “Why?” “Because I have dinner in twenty minutes.” Birgitta stared. “You stopped on your way to dinner.” “Yes.” “To interview a joytoy.” “Meet.” “Interview.” “Meet.” “Interview.” Malik smiled. “Fine.” Birgitta laughed. He offered his hand. She took it. “Another night?” He asked it without assumption. Birgitta nodded. “Maybe.” “Good answer.” Then he left. Birgitta watched him go. Mandi appeared beside her. “What the fuck was that?” “Apparently an interview.” “He didn't book you.” “No.” “He walked up, asked if you were working, talked to you and left.” “Yes.” Mandi looked offended on Birgitta's behalf. Birgitta laughed. “I liked him.” “That makes it worse.” “Why?” “He wasted your time.” “He spent five minutes talking to me.” “Exactly.” Birgitta looked at her. “Mandi.” “Yes?” “You're standing here talking to me for free.” Mandi froze. Sera made a quiet sound. Nova laughed. Dalia looked away. Mandi pointed at Birgitta. “That is completely different.” “How?” “We're working partners.” There it was again. Birgitta's smile softened before she could stop it. Mandi saw. “What?” “Nothing.” “You keep doing that.” “Doing what?” “That weird little smile whenever somebody says something normal.” Fuck. Birgitta recovered. “Maybe I like normal things.” Mandi stared at her. Then looked toward the building Jonas and Katja had disappeared into earlier. “Bullshit.” Birgitta laughed. Fair. --- Sera received another approach. “Working?” “Yes.” A young woman. Nervous. Very nervous. She'd clearly gathered courage for several minutes before crossing the street. “How much?” Sera didn't blink. “An acceptable offer starts at seven figures.” The woman swallowed. “I can't afford that.” “Okay.” No cruelty. No dismissal. The woman remained. Sera waited. “I just wanted to say your hair is beautiful.” Sera smiled. “Thank you.” The woman brightened. Then fled. Birgitta watched her disappear into the crowd. Sera returned to the group. Mandi looked at her. “You could've given her a discount.” “No.” “Why not?” “She didn't ask to book me after she heard the threshold.” Mandi considered. “Fair.” Birgitta looked at Sera. “Would you?” Sera looked back. “Would I what?” “Take less.” Sera thought. “Yes.” Interesting. Mandi turned. “What?” Sera shrugged. “The number isn't the point.” “Then why seven figures?” “Because if someone starts there, I know they're serious enough to have the conversation.” Birgitta nodded. There. Threshold. Not price. Not guarantee. A door. Sera looked at her. “And sometimes the right person doesn't have seven figures.” Mandi smiled. “Then your rule is bullshit.” “No.” “How?” “Because it's my rule.” Mandi opened her mouth. Closed it. Birgitta laughed. Sera smiled. Mandi pointed at both of them. “I liked you better before you became friends.” Birgitta and Sera answered together. “We're not friends.” Silence. Fuck. Nova looked over. Dalia looked over. Mandi stared. Birgitta's brain accelerated. Sera's did too. Then Sera looked at Birgitta with deliberate annoyance. “Exactly.” Birgitta caught it. “You've known me for a few hours.” “And it's been exhausting.” “Oh, fuck you.” “See?” Mandi laughed. Nova shook her head. Dalia's attention lingered. One second. Two. Then she smiled. “You do sound like you've known each other longer.” Birgitta's pulse kicked. Sera answered first. “Some people are immediately annoying.” Birgitta stared at her. “Immediately?” “Yes.” “You approached me.” “Professional mistake.” Mandi laughed harder. Dalia's suspicion—if it had been suspicion—passed. Birgitta waited until nobody was looking. Then gave Sera the smallest possible middle finger. Sera smiled. --- Deja returned forty minutes later. Tessa came out first. Rik behind her. Deja last. Birgitta saw them. And deliberately did not react. Excellent. Progress. Mandi reacted enough for everyone. “Oh my God.” Deja looked at her. “What?” “Nothing.” “Why are you smiling?” “I'm always smiling.” “No, you're not.” Tessa laughed. Rik's ears were relaxed. Deja looked— satisfied. Very. Not performatively. Not exaggerated. Just loose in a way she hadn't been before she'd gone upstairs. Good. Tessa touched Deja's arm. “Again?” Deja didn't look at Dalia. Not even for a fraction of a second. “Yes.” Dalia saw it. Her smile was immediate. Small. Proud. There. The experiment had ended. The effect hadn't. Deja made the decision herself. Tessa kissed her cheek. Rik offered his hand. Deja took it. Then Rik leaned down slightly. Deja's hand rose. Stopped. Birgitta's entire body became alert. No. Surely not. Deja looked at Rik. “Can I?” Rik's ears lifted. “Yes.” Deja scratched behind one. Birgitta nearly folded in half. She didn't. Heroic restraint. Rik's eyes closed. His head tilted toward Deja's hand. Tessa smiled. Deja's face— Oh, fuck. Mandi stared. Nova stared. Dalia started laughing. Not loudly. Helplessly. Deja looked at her. “What?” Dalia shook her head. “Nothing.” “You're laughing.” “No.” “You are.” Dalia covered her mouth. Deja looked around. Everyone was watching now. “Fuck all of you.” Birgitta lost it. One laugh. Too sharp. Deja's head turned. Birgitta immediately tried to recover. Failed. Deja narrowed her eyes. “You.” Birgitta pointed at herself. “Me?” “You knew.” “Knew what?” “This.” Birgitta looked at Rik. Then at Deja's hand still buried behind his ear. Then back. “Knew you like ears?” Deja froze. Dalia laughed harder. Mandi made a strangled noise. Tessa laughed. Even Rik's canine mouth opened in a grin. Deja slowly removed her hand. Birgitta smiled brightly. “Lucky guess.” Deja stared. Birgitta held it. New girl. Met tonight. No reason to know anything. Eventually Deja shook her head. “You're a menace.” Birgitta smiled. “I've been called worse.” Sera coughed. Birgitta looked at her. Sera's eyes were shining. Don't you fucking dare. Sera said nothing. Good woman. Tessa and Rik finally left. Deja watched them go. Dalia stepped beside her. “Good?” Deja didn't bother pretending. “Very.” Dalia nodded toward Rik. “The booking or the ears?” “Yes.” Mandi bent over laughing. Deja shoved Dalia lightly. Dalia caught her hand. For a moment they stood close. Then Deja smiled. “Your experiment is over.” “Yes.” “My choices.” “Yes.” Deja looked toward the departing couple. “Excellent.” Dalia laughed. --- Suzie Q appeared from Lizzie's sometime later. No announcement. No need. She stepped outside, surveyed the street, and found Birgitta almost immediately. Birgitta noticed. Straightened slightly. Suzie walked over. “How many?” Birgitta hesitated. “Six.” Suzie looked at Mandi. “Seven,” Mandi said instantly. Birgitta stared. Suzie ignored her. “Pair?” “One of mine was with Sera.” Suzie looked at Sera. Sera nodded. “Good?” “Yes.” Suzie looked back at Birgitta. “She slow you down?” Birgitta blinked. Sera blinked. Mandi made a choking noise. Birgitta looked at Sera. Sera looked at Birgitta. Suzie waited. Birgitta smiled. “A little.” Sera's eyes narrowed. “Bitch.” Suzie laughed. There. Tiny. Rare enough that everyone noticed. Then her attention returned to Birgitta. “You coming back?” The same question she'd asked earlier. It meant something different now. Earlier Birgitta had answered after one booking. After discovering that yes, she liked the work. Now she'd had a whole shift. Men. Women. Couples. A full-conversion. A pair booking with Sera. Clients she'd wanted. Clients she'd refused. Pleasure. Conversation. Quiet afterward. Colleagues. Seven bookings. Enough time for Birgitta to stop feeling like something Reyes was testing and begin feeling like somebody Reyes could become. Suzie waited. Birgitta smiled. “Yes.” No hesitation. “When?” Birgitta hadn't thought that far. That surprised her. She looked down Jig-Jig. At Mandi. Dalia. Deja. Nova. Sera. Vega still upstairs. At the crowd. At people who knew Birgitta and did not know Reyes. “Soon.” Suzie nodded. “Tell me before you show.” “Why?” “So I know whether to expect trouble.” Birgitta laughed. “From me?” Suzie looked at Mandi. Then Sera. Then back at Birgitta. “Apparently you collect it.” Mandi pointed. “See?” Birgitta sighed. Suzie started back toward Lizzie's. Then stopped. Looked over her shoulder. “Good first night.” Birgitta went still. Just for a second. “Thanks.” Suzie left. Mandi bumped Birgitta's shoulder. Not hard. “New girl.” Birgitta looked at her. “What?” Mandi smiled. “Nothing.” And walked away. Birgitta watched her. Sera moved beside her. No teasing this time. “Successful cover, Reyes.” Birgitta looked at the street. “Yes.” Sera waited. Birgitta smiled. “Very.” And this time, she didn't mean the face. --- # CHAPTER 23 — PANAM Panam arrived arguing with her truck. Birgitta heard her before she saw her. “No, you do not get to decide that after I already turned.” A pause. Panam emerged through the Jig-Jig crowd with her jacket over one shoulder. “I know what the route said.” Another pause. “The route was wrong.” Sera's head turned. Immediately. Birgitta noticed. Not because Sera moved quickly. Because everything about her changed. Her face warmed. Her shoulders loosened. The tiny distance she'd maintained between herself and the rest of the street disappeared. Panam hadn't seen her yet. “Then next time tell me before the fucking intersection.” She stabbed at her holo. The connection vanished. She looked up. Saw Sera. Stopped. “Oh.” Sera smiled. “Hi.” Panam walked straight to her. No hesitation. No performance. She caught Sera around the waist and kissed her. Sera's arms went around her. The kiss wasn't hurried. Neither was particularly interested in pretending otherwise. Mandi smiled. Dalia smiled. Deja rolled her eyes with the comfortable familiarity of someone who had seen this before. Nova leaned toward Vega. “Five says she complains about traffic again within two minutes.” Vega considered. “Thirty seconds.” Birgitta looked at them. “You bet on this?” Nova smiled. “Sometimes.” Panam finally broke the kiss. She kept one arm around Sera. “Hi.” “You said that.” “I know.” Sera kissed her once more. Shorter. “Hi.” Panam smiled. Then looked past her. “Mandi.” Mandi lifted a hand. “Panam.” “Dalia.” “Still alive.” “Disappointing.” “Likewise.” Deja got a grin. “You.” Deja folded her arms. “Me.” Panam's eyes narrowed. “You look suspiciously pleased with yourself.” Deja's smile became immediate. “I had a good evening.” Dalia made a tiny sound. Deja looked at her. “Don't.” “I didn't say anything.” “You were about to.” Panam looked between them. Then noticed the leash in Deja's hand. Her eyebrows rose. “Oh?” “Later,” Deja said. Panam grinned. “Oh, definitely later.” Nova and Vega were next. “Nova. Vega.” “Panam.” “Hey.” No introductions. No explanations. Panam knew exactly who stood in front of her. Ace. Mai. Kiro. Iris. Brenda. All wearing different names and faces for the street. And Sera, simply Sera. Then Panam's gaze moved one person farther. Stopped. Birgitta smiled. There. The only stranger. Panam looked at her. Not through her. At her. Muted copper-grey hair. Very light brown eyes. Elegant fast-drop dress. Scandinavian face that belonged completely and naturally to the woman wearing it. A bright, openly interested smile Reyes would never have worn like that. Nothing happened. No recognition. No hesitation. Panam looked at Sera. Then back at Birgitta. “Who's this?” Sera answered. “Birgitta.” Panam's eyes returned to her. “Working?” Birgitta smiled. “Yes.” “Panam.” “Birgitta.” They shook hands. Nothing. Absolutely nothing. Birgitta felt satisfaction rise through her so fast she almost laughed. Panam knew Reyes. Not casually. Cabin weekends. Operations. The safehouse orbit. Arguments. Drinks. The kind of shared history that made people recognizable before they entered a room. Panam was holding Reyes's hand. And meeting Birgitta. Sera watched. The smallest movement touched one corner of her mouth. Birgitta released Panam's hand before she became too pleased with herself. Panam looked at Sera. “New?” “First shift.” Panam looked back at Birgitta. “Seriously?” “Yes.” “How's it going?” Birgitta considered. “Better than expected.” Mandi immediately said: “Six.” Birgitta closed her eyes. Panam looked at Mandi. “Six what?” “Bookings.” Panam's eyebrows rose. “Tonight?” “Yes.” Birgitta opened her eyes. “Mandi has seven.” Panam looked between them. “Is this a competition?” “No,” Birgitta said. “Yes,” Mandi said. Panam nodded. “Right.” Birgitta pointed at Mandi. “She started it.” “Did not.” “You have been counting out loud for hours.” “Motivation.” “Harassment.” “Same team.” Panam laughed. Then looked at Sera. “You worked?” “Yes.” “With her?” Sera nodded. “Yes.” Birgitta waited. Panam looked between them. Something amused entered her expression. “Together?” “Yes,” Birgitta said. “How'd that happen?” Sera answered. “I asked.” Panam looked at her. “You asked the new girl?” “Yes.” “First shift.” “Yes.” Panam looked at Birgitta again. Longer. Not suspicious. Interested. “And?” Sera smiled. “She's good.” That landed. Not because Panam knew what it meant to Birgitta. Because Reyes did. Birgitta kept the reaction where it belonged. Behind the face. She smiled. “Sera is acceptable.” Sera looked at her. Panam barked a laugh. Mandi turned. “She said that earlier too.” “I remain correct.” “You're brave,” Panam said. Birgitta looked at Sera. “She hasn't killed me yet.” “Long night.” “See?” Panam laughed again. Easy. Nothing in her face suggested Birgitta was anyone except the woman she'd just met. Perfect. --- Panam kept one hand at Sera's waist. Not possessive. Familiar. Her thumb moved absently against the white couture. Then she noticed the fabric properly. “How much did this cost?” Sera looked at her. “Don't ask.” “That much?” “Yes.” Panam sighed. “You people.” Mandi looked offended. “What does that mean?” “You know exactly what it means.” “I do not.” Panam looked at Mandi's premium joytoy wardrobe. Then Dalia's. Then Nova and Vega. Then Birgitta. Back to Mandi. Mandi considered. “Fair.” Panam smiled. She looked at Deja again. “Seriously. Good night?” Deja smiled. “Very.” “Dalia?” Dalia folded her arms. “Apparently I created a monster.” “I was already a monster.” “That's what Birgitta said.” Panam glanced toward Birgitta. Birgitta's heart kicked once. Deja laughed. “She did.” Panam looked at Birgitta. “You figured her out already?” Dangerous phrasing. Birgitta smiled. “She isn't subtle.” Deja stared. “Excuse me?” Dalia laughed. Panam nodded. “No, she's right.” “Fuck all of you.” Birgitta laughed with everyone else. Easy. Natural. No need to hide the joke. Only why she understood it so well. Panam noticed Deja's gaze drift briefly down the street. Then followed it. The Doberman full-conversion and Tessa were long gone. Nothing there now but Jig-Jig traffic. “What did I miss?” Deja answered immediately. “Nothing.” Dalia answered at the same time. “A dog.” Silence. Deja turned. “Dalia.” Panam looked at her. Then Dalia. Then Deja again. “A what?” Mandi folded over laughing. Nova covered her mouth. Vega looked delighted. Birgitta looked at Sera. Sera looked back. No. Do not. Panam's eyes narrowed. “Kiro.” Deja pointed. “Not here.” Panam's grin widened. “Deja.” “Better.” “What dog?” “Not a dog.” Dalia corrected: “Doberman full-conversion.” Panam's eyebrows climbed. Then she looked at Deja. “Oh.” Deja stared. “What does that mean?” Panam's grin became enormous. “Oh.” “Fuck you.” “I didn't say anything.” “You did it twice.” Mandi managed: “Ears.” Panam looked at her. “What?” Deja said: “MANDI.” Too late. Mandi pointed toward the side of her own head. “Ears.” Panam stared at Deja. Understanding arrived. Slowly. Beautifully. “No.” Deja folded her arms. “Yes.” Panam laughed. Not politely. Not briefly. She leaned against Sera and laughed until Deja started laughing too despite herself. Birgitta joined them. She could. Birgitta had supposedly learned this tonight. Reyes knowing Kiro well enough to understand exactly how catastrophic the discovery had been remained safely underneath. Eventually Panam wiped one eye. “I leave you people alone for one evening.” Dalia looked at her. “You really don't.” “Fair.” --- A prospective client approached Mandi. “Working?” “Yes.” The conversation took Mandi a few meters away. Panam watched for a moment. No confusion. No separation between Mandi and Ace in her mind. She knew who her friend was. She simply respected the identity Ace was wearing here. Birgitta noticed because Reyes noticed things like that. Panam did it effortlessly. Dalia was Dalia here. Deja was Deja. Nova and Vega were Nova and Vega. Nobody needed to remind her. Nobody needed to explain. That made Birgitta more interesting. Panam didn't know there was anything to respect. She genuinely believed Birgitta was Birgitta. Birgitta liked that far too much. Sera noticed her looking. “Thinking face.” Birgitta groaned. Panam looked between them. “What?” “Nothing,” Birgitta said. “She thinks too much,” Sera said. Panam laughed. “That I believe.” Birgitta's eyes narrowed. “Based on what?” “You have the face.” “What face?” “That face.” Birgitta looked at Sera. Sera smiled innocently. “Don't.” “I didn't say anything.” Panam looked between them again. “How long have you known each other?” “Tonight,” Sera said. “Really?” “Yes.” Panam looked at Birgitta. Birgitta nodded. “Unfortunately.” Sera smiled. Panam shook her head. “You already sound like you've been annoying each other for years.” Birgitta's pulse kicked. Once. Sera didn't blink. Birgitta smiled. “Some people are very efficient.” Panam laughed. “Yeah. She is.” Sera looked offended. Panam kissed her cheek. “Love you.” “Better.” There. Gone. No suspicion. No second thought. Birgitta breathed normally. She was getting very good at this. --- Mandi returned alone. “No?” Panam asked. “No.” “Why?” “Didn't like him.” Panam shrugged. “Fair.” Mandi looked at Sera. Then Panam. Then the arm still around Sera's waist. “You booking her?” Panam looked at her. “I was planning to steal her.” “Same thing here.” “No, it isn't.” “Technically.” Sera smiled. Panam looked at her. “You done?” “Maybe.” “Maybe?” Sera tilted her head. “I'm working.” Panam stared. “You're seriously going to make me do this.” “Do what?” Panam looked around. At Jig-Jig. At Mandi. At Birgitta. Then back to Sera. “You know exactly what.” Sera's smile became almost unbearably innocent. Panam sighed. Then stepped half a pace back. Enough to turn the familiar conversation into the formal one the street required. “Working?” Sera smiled. “Yes.” Panam folded her arms. “Fine.” Mandi was already grinning. Panam noticed. “What?” “Nothing.” “I don't believe you.” “Good.” Panam looked back at Sera. “How much?” “An acceptable offer starts at seven figures.” Panam stared. Silence. Then: “What?” Birgitta bit her lip. Sera remained perfectly serious. “An acceptable offer starts at seven figures.” Panam looked at Mandi. Mandi nodded solemnly. “She means it.” Panam looked at Dalia. Dalia nodded too. Deja was already smiling. Panam looked back at Sera. “You've been charging a million eddies?” “No.” “That is literally what you just said.” “No. I said an acceptable offer starts at seven figures.” Panam stared at her. “That's worse.” Sera smiled. “Maybe.” Panam looked around. “How many people have paid that?” Sera didn't answer the question. “I've accepted seven-figure offers.” Panam's expression became offended on behalf of mathematics. “Jesus fucking Christ.” Mandi laughed. Panam looked Sera up and down. “I mean, yes, obviously, but Jesus fucking Christ.” Sera laughed. Then Panam's gaze moved. To Birgitta. Stopped. Birgitta saw the idea arrive. Oh. There it was. Panam looked at Sera. Then Birgitta. Back to Sera. “You said you two worked together.” “Yes.” “And she's good.” “Yes.” Panam looked at Birgitta. “Working?” The protocol. Again. Birgitta smiled. “Yes.” “How much?” “Twenty-five thousand and one.” Panam blinked. “One?” “Yes.” “Why the one?” Birgitta smiled. “I've heard of Mandi.” Mandi shouted: “BITCH.” Panam laughed. “Okay.” Then she looked at Sera. Then Birgitta. The idea settled. Birgitta could practically watch it become a decision. Panam asked: “How does a pair booking work?” Sera answered calmly. “We talk first.” “About?” “What you want.” Panam looked at Birgitta. “What do you need?” “Same answer.” Panam considered. No rush. Good. This wasn't a joke to her anymore. Sera was her lover. Birgitta was a stranger. An attractive stranger. A professional Sera had already worked with and trusted. Panam looked at Sera. “You'd want to?” “Yes.” Immediate. Then Panam looked at Birgitta. Birgitta let herself look back. Panam was attractive. That wasn't news to Reyes. But Reyes wasn't making this decision. Birgitta was. And Birgitta found the idea very easy to like. “Yes.” Panam smiled. “All right.” Mandi went very still. Dalia noticed. Deja noticed. Nova and Vega noticed them noticing. Panam looked at Sera. “So. Seven figures.” Sera smiled. “Make me an offer.” Panam narrowed her eyes. “You're enjoying this.” “A little.” “Asshole.” “Offer.” Panam stared at her. Then smiled. “One.” Sera's smile changed. Warm. “Accepted.” Silence. Mandi blinked. Deja blinked. Nova looked at Vega. Vega looked at Nova. Birgitta kept her face under control only because Reyes had years of practice doing exactly that. Panam looked around. “What?” Mandi said: “One what?” Panam looked at her. “One eddie.” Mandi's mouth fell open. Dalia laughed first. Deja followed. Panam looked at Sera. “You need the transaction.” “Yes.” Panam transferred one eddie. Sera checked. “Booked.” Mandi pointed at them. “No.” Sera looked at her. “Yes.” “You turned down seven figures tonight.” “Yes.” “And she gets you for one?” Sera looked at Panam. “She's Panam.” Simple. Panam's expression softened. Birgitta felt something warm move through the moment. No game. No discount. No contradiction. Sera's threshold existed for strangers making offers. Panam wasn't a stranger making an offer. She was Panam. The eddie existed because the booking needed an exchange. Nothing more. Panam looked at Birgitta. “And you're still twenty-five thousand and one?” “Yes.” “Good.” She transferred it. Birgitta checked. “Received.” Mandi stared at Panam. Then Sera. Then Birgitta. “You just paid twenty-five thousand times more for Birgitta than Sera.” Panam looked at her. “Yes.” Mandi's eyes widened. “That's fucking incredible.” Birgitta laughed. Panam looked around. Several nearby people were watching. Of course they were. Sera had spent the evening becoming a walking financial event. Now Panam Palmer had walked up, booked her for one eddie, and added the new premium girl without blinking. Whispers had already started. Panam noticed. “Why are they looking at me?” Deja smiled. “Because they don't know you.” Panam looked at Sera. “Oh, fuck.” Sera smiled. Panam looked around again. Someone farther down the street was talking to someone else and pointing very discreetly. Not discreetly enough. Panam groaned. “What do they think happened?” Mandi answered immediately. “That you're so fucking rich Sera waived the price.” “That makes no sense.” “Welcome to Jig-Jig.” Nova added: “They probably didn't hear the one eddie.” Vega looked toward the nearest whispering pair. “Some did.” Panam frowned. “That's worse.” “Yes,” Birgitta said. Panam turned. “Why?” Birgitta smiled. “Because now nobody knows what the fuck happened.” Panam stared. Then laughed. “Okay. Fair.” Mandi leaned toward Deja. “Dakota must pay well.” Panam heard. “Fuck you.” Deja laughed. Panam pointed at her. “You know exactly what Dakota pays.” “Which makes this funnier.” “Traitor.” Dalia said: “By morning you'll own half the Badlands.” “I already own the expensive half.” Sera laughed. Panam looked at her. “Come on before this gets worse.” Sera held out her hand. Panam took it. Then Sera looked at Birgitta. Birgitta stepped forward. Panam paused. Not uncertain. Just acknowledging the actual shape of what they'd agreed to. Sera. Her lover. Birgitta. A woman she'd met tonight. She looked at Birgitta. “You okay with me being close to her?” Good question. Birgitta smiled. “Yes.” Panam nodded. “And I don't want you treated like an extra.” Better. Birgitta's smile warmed. “Good.” Sera watched both of them. Panam looked between them. “Anything else before we go?” Birgitta thought. “No.” Sera shook her head. “No.” Panam smiled. “Then let's go.” They started toward Lizzie's. Mandi called after them: “PANAM!” Panam turned. “What?” Mandi grinned. “Twenty-five thousand and two!” Panam stared. Then looked at Sera. One eddie. At Birgitta. Twenty-five thousand and one. Back to Mandi. “Oh, fuck you.” Mandi doubled over laughing. Panam turned away. Birgitta was laughing too now. Sera squeezed Panam's hand. Panam looked at her. “I hate your friends.” “You know them.” “That makes it worse.” Birgitta almost stumbled. Sera caught it. Only for a fraction of a second. Their eyes met. Careful. Panam had meant Mandi, Dalia, Deja, Nova, Vega. All people she knew perfectly well beneath the covers. Not Birgitta. Birgitta recovered. Panam looked at her. “You okay?” “Yes.” “What happened?” Birgitta smiled. “Twenty-five thousand and two.” Panam groaned. “Not you too.” “Sorry.” “You're not.” “No.” Panam shook her head. Then smiled. “I think I'm going to like you.” Birgitta felt the words land somewhere Reyes hadn't expected. She smiled. Bright. Easy. Entirely Birgitta. “I think so too.” Sera looked between them. And said absolutely nothing. Good woman. The three disappeared into Lizzie's. Behind them, Jig-Jig Street did what Jig-Jig Street did best. It took one eddie, twenty-five thousand and one eddies, a seven-figure threshold, one very recognizable Nomad and almost no context— and began manufacturing bullshit at industrial scale. --- # CHAPTER 24 — TWENTY-FIVE THOUSAND AND TWO The door closed behind them. For several seconds, none of them moved. Then Panam looked at Sera. “One.” Sera smiled. “Yes.” Panam looked at Birgitta. “Twenty-five thousand and one.” “Yes.” Back to Sera. “One.” “You seem stuck on that.” “I am stuck on that.” Birgitta laughed. Panam pointed at her. “You don't get to laugh. You're the expensive one.” “Apparently.” “Twenty-five thousand times more expensive.” “Twenty-five thousand and one.” Panam stared. Birgitta smiled. Panam looked at Sera. “I like her less now.” “No, you don't.” “No, I don't.” Sera laughed. Panam threw her jacket over the nearest chair. The joke remained in the room. But the street didn't. No watching crowd. No whispers. No people trying to understand why Sera had accepted one eddie from Panam after spending the evening making seven figures merely the beginning of a conversation. Here, the numbers no longer mattered. The booking did. Panam looked at Birgitta. And for the first time since they'd left the street, really looked. Not suspiciously. Not searching for something hidden. Simply looking at the woman she'd just hired. Birgitta let her. Panam knew Sera. There was nothing tentative in the way she'd kissed her downstairs, nothing uncertain in the arm around her waist or the easy insults moving between them. Birgitta was different. New. Unknown. Panam folded her arms. “So.” “So,” Birgitta said. Sera leaned against the wall. Panam glanced at her. “You planning to help?” “No.” “Useful.” “I thought you wanted to meet her.” Panam looked back at Birgitta. “I do.” “Then meet her.” Panam considered that. Then nodded. Fair enough. “How long have you been doing this?” “Tonight.” “I know it's your first shift.” “Then that's the answer.” Panam smiled. “You know what I mean.” Birgitta did. She sat on the edge of the bed. “This?” She gestured loosely around the room. “Professionally?” “Yes.” “Tonight.” Panam's eyebrows rose. “Really.” “Really.” “And you're already doing pair bookings.” “One before this.” “With Sera.” “Yes.” Panam looked toward Sera. “You picked her.” “I did.” “Why?” Sera smiled. “Because I wanted to.” Panam waited. Sera offered nothing more. Panam sighed. “Fantastic explanation.” “Thank you.” Birgitta laughed. Panam looked at her. “You're not nervous.” “A little.” That surprised her. “You don't look nervous.” “Useful skill.” Panam nodded slowly. “Okay.” Birgitta tilted her head. “You?” Panam laughed. “I'm standing in a private room with my lover and a woman I met half an hour ago after somehow paying twenty-five thousand and two eddies for the privilege.” “That's not an answer.” Panam looked at her. Then smiled. “A little.” “Good.” “Good?” “It would be awkward if I were the only one.” That got another laugh. And something eased. Exactly enough. --- Panam sat beside Birgitta. Not touching. Sera stayed where she was. Birgitta appreciated that. Sera could have made this easy by becoming the bridge between them. She didn't. Panam and Birgitta had to find their own footing. Panam looked at her dress. “That's very different from what I expected.” “What did you expect?” Panam gestured vaguely. “Jig-Jig.” Birgitta smiled. “I'm on Jig-Jig.” “You know what I mean.” “Yes.” The dress was elegant. Almost restrained. Expensive enough to be obvious without needing to shout. Nothing about it looked accidental. Panam looked at Birgitta's face again. “You don't look like you're trying very hard.” “To do what?” “Sell me something.” “I already did.” Panam blinked. Then laughed. “Okay. That was good.” “Thank you.” “What happens now?” Birgitta looked at her. “We decide what we actually want.” Panam glanced at Sera. Sera still hadn't moved. Then back. “I know what I want with her.” “Yes.” “I don't know what I want with you.” “That's fine.” “No sales pitch?” “No.” “No list?” “No.” “You're terrible at this.” “Seven bookings.” Panam groaned. “There it is.” Birgitta smiled. Panam's did too. Then she became serious again. “I don't want you standing beside us while Sera and I do what we always do.” “Neither do I.” “And I don't want to pretend you and I already have something we don't.” “Good.” Panam nodded. “Good.” The silence after that was comfortable. Not empty. Panam looked at her for a few seconds. “Can I kiss you?” “Yes.” Panam leaned closer. Stopped just short. Birgitta closed the remaining distance. Their first kiss was careful. Not cautious enough to feel clinical. Just new. Panam's hand settled lightly at Birgitta's waist. Birgitta touched her shoulder. They separated. Panam looked at her. “Hm.” Birgitta smiled. “Hm?” “Again.” This time Panam came to her. Longer. Warmer. The first kiss had been a question. The second already knew part of the answer. Birgitta's hand moved from Panam's shoulder to the back of her neck. Panam drew her closer. When they parted, Panam was smiling. “Okay.” “Very articulate.” “Shut up.” Birgitta laughed. Across the room, Sera smiled. Panam looked at her. “You enjoying this?” “Yes.” “Come here.” Sera did. Panam reached for her the moment she was close enough. The kiss between them was completely different. Familiar. Immediate. Panam's hand knew where to settle. Sera's fingers moved into Panam's hair without searching. Birgitta watched. There was no reason not to. Panam broke the kiss and looked at her. “You okay?” “Yes.” “Come here.” Birgitta did. Panam kept one hand on Sera and reached for Birgitta with the other. That simple. No hierarchy needed. No performance of equality either. Just attention. Sera kissed Panam's neck. Birgitta kissed her mouth. Panam's breath caught. Her hand tightened at Birgitta's waist. Then she laughed softly against her lips. “What?” Birgitta asked. “This is actually working.” Sera smiled against her skin. “You sound surprised.” “I met her half an hour ago.” Birgitta kissed Panam again. “You're talking too much.” Panam's eyebrows rose. “Oh?” “Yes.” “Twenty-five thousand and one and now she's giving orders.” Sera laughed. Birgitta smiled. “Do you want me to stop?” Panam pulled her closer. “No.” Good. --- The clothes came away slowly. Not because anyone was reluctant. Because nobody was in a hurry. Panam watched Birgitta release the dress. The fabric dropped cleanly. Fast. Panam looked down at it. Then up. “That is clever.” Birgitta stepped free. “It is.” Panam's attention shifted. Stayed. Birgitta felt the look without needing to interpret it. Panam liked what she saw. The smile gave that away. Birgitta liked being looked at. That was another thing Reyes hadn't expected to learn tonight. Panam reached for her own clothes. Sera helped. Not because Panam needed help. Because Sera wanted to touch her. Panam smiled at the first contact. Birgitta watched the familiarity between them again. Then Sera looked at her. An invitation. Nothing more. Birgitta stepped closer. Her fingers joined Sera's. Panam looked between them. “Now that,” she said, “I could get used to.” Birgitta smiled. “Useful information.” Panam laughed. “Professional?” “Very.” Sera kissed Panam's shoulder. “She's learning.” “Fast.” “I noticed.” Birgitta leaned in. “Still talking.” Panam kissed her. --- They found the bed without deciding who led. Panam ended up between them. For a while. Sera knew her. Birgitta learned her. The difference remained visible in every small thing. Sera could anticipate. Birgitta had to listen. So she did. A touch that made Panam lean closer. One that made her breathing deepen. A kiss that she wanted longer. Another she redirected without apology. Birgitta adjusted. Panam noticed. “You really are good at this.” Birgitta smiled against her skin. “So I've been told.” “Cocky.” “Seven bookings.” Panam laughed. Sera groaned. “Please don't encourage her.” “Too late.” The laughter faded naturally into another kiss. Then another. Panam reached for Sera. Birgitta stayed close. Sera reached back for Birgitta. The shape kept changing. Nobody was left waiting for a turn. That mattered. At one point Panam stopped moving. Birgitta stopped immediately. Sera did too. Panam breathed. “I'm fine.” Neither woman moved. Panam opened her eyes. “I just needed a second.” Birgitta nodded. “Take one.” Sera stroked her side. Nothing more. Panam breathed again. Then smiled. “Okay.” She kissed Sera first. Then Birgitta. Choice restored through action rather than announcement. The room warmed again. --- Later, Panam moved over Birgitta. The laughter had quieted. Not vanished. Just moved somewhere underneath everything else. Birgitta looked up at her. Panam paused. “You still want this?” “Yes.” No hesitation. Panam searched her face for another second. Then continued. The decisive transition was slow. Mutual. Birgitta drew a sharper breath as Panam entered her. Panam stopped. Birgitta's hand tightened against her. “Yes.” Panam moved. Carefully at first. Birgitta met her rhythm. Sera stayed beside them, close enough to touch both. Panam turned her head. Sera kissed her. Birgitta watched them for a moment. Then Sera's hand found hers. Their fingers closed together. Panam moved again. Birgitta's breathing deepened. Pleasure built without needing to be chased. Panam watched her reactions. Adjusted. Birgitta's free hand moved over Panam's back. Closer. Again. The rhythm strengthened. Birgitta stopped thinking about the cover. About the street. About whether Panam saw anything familiar. There was nothing useful in thinking now. Only feeling. Panam. Sera beside them. The heat gathering low and insistent. Birgitta's breath breaking. Panam slowing when she needed slower. Moving harder when Birgitta pulled her closer. Then release. Birgitta tightened around the moment with a sharp breath. Panam stayed with her. Sera's hand remained in hers. Nobody moved away. The pleasure crested. Held. Then gradually loosened. Panam stopped. Birgitta kept her close. For several seconds, they simply breathed. No joke. No immediate reset. Panam lowered herself carefully beside her. Sera moved closer. Three bodies settling into the space left behind. Stillness. --- Birgitta liked the stillness. She'd learned that tonight too. Maybe more than anything else. The work could be playful. Strange. Simple. Intense. But afterward there was sometimes this. Nobody asking anything. Nobody needing to perform. Panam lay partly against Sera now. One hand still resting on Birgitta's stomach. Casual. Unconscious. Connection without demand. Birgitta closed her eyes. Panam's thumb moved once. “You good?” “Yes.” “You?” Panam smiled. “Very.” Sera made a satisfied sound. Panam looked at her. “You're smug.” “Yes.” “Why?” “You like her.” Panam glanced at Birgitta. “I do.” Birgitta opened one eye. “I'm right here.” “I know.” Panam smiled. “Still like you.” “Good.” Sera laughed softly. The stillness returned. Not quite as quiet this time. Warmer. --- They didn't leave immediately. Panam and Sera found each other again. Birgitta joined when it felt right. Sometimes she touched. Sometimes she kissed. Sometimes she simply watched for a moment until one of them reached for her. Nothing required constant motion to prove she belonged there. By the time they finally stopped for good, Panam was sprawled across the bed with the expression of someone who had temporarily decided the outside world could solve its own problems. Birgitta lay beside her. Sera on the other side. Panam stared at the ceiling. “One eddie.” Sera laughed. Birgitta covered her face. “We're back to this?” “I don't think I'm ever getting over it.” “You paid it voluntarily.” “That isn't helping.” Birgitta turned her head. “Think of it this way.” Panam looked at her. “You got excellent value.” Panam stared. Then started laughing. Sera joined. Birgitta lasted perhaps two seconds. Then all three were laughing again. --- Eventually they dressed. Panam pulled on her jacket last. Sera restored white couture to something approaching its original impossible perfection. Birgitta's dress returned to elegant restraint as though nothing had happened inside it. At the door, Panam stopped. Looked at Birgitta. Not assessing now. Something easier. “I'd do that again.” Birgitta smiled. “So would I.” Panam nodded. No grand statement. No promise. Just information. Useful information. Sera opened the door. Panam caught it before they stepped through. “One question.” Birgitta waited. “What do I tell them downstairs?” Sera smiled. “The truth.” Panam looked horrified. “Absolutely not.” Birgitta laughed. “You paid twenty-five thousand and two eddies.” “That is technically true and spiritually dishonest.” Sera laughed. Birgitta leaned against the doorframe. “Then don't tell them anything.” Panam considered. “That might actually work.” Sera looked at her. “No, it won't.” “Why?” “You're Panam.” Panam frowned. “What the fuck does that mean?” Birgitta opened the door. “You'll last thirty seconds.” “I can keep my mouth shut.” Sera and Birgitta looked at each other. Then both looked at Panam. Panam stared back. “Fuck both of you.” Birgitta smiled. “Again?” Panam froze. Sera's mouth fell open. Birgitta realized exactly what she'd said. One beat. Two. Panam's grin spread slowly. “Oh.” Birgitta covered her face. Sera started laughing. Panam walked through the door. “Definitely twenty-five thousand and one well spent.” Birgitta followed her into the corridor. “You're terrible.” “You started it.” Sera came behind them. “She's right.” “Traitor.” Panam looked over her shoulder. “See? Now we're getting somewhere.” Birgitta laughed. And the three of them headed back toward the street. Outside, somewhere beyond Lizzie's walls, the rumor was waiting. Inside Birgitta, something simpler had already settled. She liked Panam. Panam liked Birgitta. And Panam still had absolutely no idea who she had just spent the last hour with. --- # CHAPTER 25 — THIRTY SECONDS Panam lasted twenty-three. Birgitta counted. Not deliberately at first. The moment they stepped out of Lizzie's and back into Jig-Jig's light and noise, Sera moved naturally beside Panam. Birgitta took the other side. Twenty-three seconds later, Deja looked at Panam. “Well?” Panam answered: “None of your fucking business.” Birgitta looked at Sera. Sera looked at Birgitta. Twenty-three. Panam saw them. “What?” “Nothing,” Birgitta said. Sera smiled. “Twenty-three.” Panam stopped walking. “You counted?” “Not intentionally.” “You said thirty,” Sera reminded her. “I know what I said.” “And you made twenty-three.” “I didn't tell her anything.” Deja walked backward in front of them. “You told me it was none of my business.” “Yes.” “Which means it was good.” “That is not how logic works.” “It is tonight.” Panam pointed at her. “You especially can shut up.” Deja grinned. “Why especially?” Panam's eyes dropped. Just once. Toward where the leash had been earlier. Deja's smile disappeared. “No.” Panam smiled. “Oh, yes.” Dalia appeared beside Deja. “Careful.” Deja looked at her. “You're supposed to be on my side.” “The experiment is over.” “That doesn't mean you can become evil.” Dalia smiled. “I was evil well before.” “Fair.” Panam laughed. Birgitta did too. Easy. The group absorbed them again without ceremony. Mandi was talking to Nova. Vega had acquired fresh drinks. A client stood several meters away apparently trying to decide whether approaching Sera was financially survivable. Normal Jig-Jig. Or what passed for normal here. Mandi saw Panam. Her grin became immediate. “No.” Panam said it before Mandi opened her mouth. “I didn't say anything.” “You were going to.” “I was going to ask whether you enjoyed your booking.” “No, you weren't.” Mandi considered. “No.” Panam nodded. “Thought so.” Mandi looked at Birgitta. Birgitta smiled. Mandi looked at Sera. Sera smiled. Then Mandi looked back at Panam. “Oh, you poor woman.” “What?” “They're both smiling.” “So?” “Like that.” Panam turned. Birgitta immediately made her smile brighter. Sera looked serenely innocent. Panam stared. “I hate this place.” “No, you don't,” Deja said. “No, I don't.” --- The rumor had evolved. Of course it had. Birgitta discovered this when a woman passing them looked at Panam, whispered something to her companion, and both glanced toward Sera. Panam noticed. “Still?” Sera nodded. “Still.” “What do they think?” Nova answered: “I've heard three versions.” Panam closed her eyes. “Why have you heard three versions?” “I have ears.” Vega handed Panam a drink. “You want them?” “No.” Nova started counting anyway. “One: you paid Sera somewhere between one and two million.” “I didn't.” “Two: you paid her nothing because you're secretly together.” Panam looked at Sera. “Well.” Nova raised a finger. “Secretly.” Panam looked around the street. Then at the arm Sera had just slipped around her waist. “Right.” Vega smiled. “Not their strongest theory.” “What's three?” Nova hesitated. Panam saw it. “What?” “Apparently Dakota has some kind of standing account with Lizzie's.” Panam stared. Birgitta bit her lip. Deja turned away. Dalia's shoulders began shaking. Panam looked at Sera. “A standing account.” “Yes.” “With Lizzie's.” “Apparently.” “For joytoys.” “That seems to be the theory.” Panam looked toward the ceiling. “There is no justice.” Mandi said: “I heard you own an AV.” Panam snapped her head around. “What?” “A private one.” “I do not own an AV.” “Apparently you landed it on the roof.” “There is no fucking AV on the roof.” “I know.” “Then why—” Mandi shrugged. “Rumors.” Panam stared at her. Then started laughing despite herself. “Okay. Fine.” She took the drink Vega had given her. “What else?” Nova smiled. “You said you didn't want to know.” “I've accepted my fate.” Deja leaned closer. “Somebody thinks Dakota found buried corpo gold.” Panam drank. “That's actually better than the truth.” Birgitta looked at her. “What is the truth?” Panam swallowed. “That Dakota pays shit.” Deja barked a laugh. “There she is.” Panam pointed at her. “You know.” “I know.” “Thank you.” “That doesn't mean I'm correcting anybody.” “Of course not.” “Absolutely not.” Panam looked at Birgitta. “You see what I deal with?” Birgitta smiled. “I met them tonight.” The lie came easily. Because it was mostly true for Birgitta. Panam nodded. “Then get out while you can.” Birgitta looked around. At the street. At the lights. At Suzie Q behind the bar. At the people moving between work and conversation and laughter. At Sera. At Panam. At the women who knew Reyes and still saw only Birgitta. “No.” Panam looked at her. Birgitta smiled. “I think I'll stay.” --- Suzie Q appeared a few minutes later. She looked at Panam. Then Sera. Then Birgitta. Her expression changed by perhaps half a millimeter. That was enough. Panam groaned. “You too?” Suzie smiled. “I haven't said anything.” “Everyone keeps saying that immediately before saying something.” Suzie looked at Sera. “One?” Sera nodded. “One.” Suzie looked at Birgitta. “Twenty-five thousand and one?” “Yes.” Suzie nodded. “All clean.” Panam stared. “That's it?” “What else would there be?” “I don't know.” Suzie smiled. “Then don't invent problems.” She started to leave. Panam relaxed. Suzie took two steps. Stopped. Looked back. “Nice AV.” Then walked away. Panam froze. The group exploded. Even Sera lost it. Panam stood in the middle of them with the expression of a woman contemplating whether homicide would improve her evening. “I am going to burn this fucking street down.” Dalia managed: “Mox territory.” “Fine. I'll burn somewhere adjacent.” Birgitta laughed until her stomach hurt. --- Eventually the joke ran out of oxygen. Not completely. Nothing on Jig-Jig ever truly died. But enough. Panam leaned against the rail with Sera beside her. Birgitta stood near them. For a while, nobody spoke. The street moved below. A pair of full-conversion women passed arm in arm, one feline, one almost entirely synthetic except for her face. A corpo in an immaculate natural sculpt argued cheerfully with a heavily chromed street vendor over noodles. Two joytoys crossed the street toward clients. Nobody stopped to look. Night City remained Night City. Panam took another drink. Then glanced at Birgitta. “So you're coming back.” It wasn't quite a question. “Yes.” “When?” “I don't know yet.” “Soon?” Birgitta smiled. “Yes.” Panam nodded. “Good.” Sera looked at her. Panam caught it. “What?” “Nothing.” “Bullshit.” Sera smiled. Panam looked at Birgitta. “She does that.” “I've noticed.” “You've known her one night.” “Long night.” Sera's eyes moved to Birgitta. Tiny. Careful. Birgitta didn't react. Panam nodded. “Fair.” Then: “You work anywhere else?” “No.” “Planning to?” “I haven't planned much beyond tonight.” “That sounds healthy.” Birgitta laughed. Panam looked at her. “You really didn't know whether you'd like it.” “No.” “And now?” Birgitta considered the question. She could have made a joke. Didn't. “I love it.” Panam's eyebrows rose. The words surprised Birgitta a little too. Not because they were wrong. Because saying them aloud made them solid. “I didn't expect that,” Birgitta continued. “At all.” Panam smiled. “Then that's a pretty good first night.” “Yes.” Sera said nothing. She didn't need to. Panam looked toward the street. Then back. “You know, I almost didn't come tonight.” “Traffic?” Birgitta asked. Panam stared. Sera started laughing. “You heard that?” “The entire street heard that.” “Fuck.” “You were arguing with your truck.” “It started it.” Birgitta laughed. Panam shook her head. Then her smile returned. “Glad I came.” She looked at Sera first. Naturally. Then Birgitta. Also naturally. Something about that second look stayed with Birgitta. Not desire alone. They'd already settled that question upstairs. Interest. The kind that extended beyond one booking. Birgitta recognized it because she felt the same thing. Panam looked away first. --- A client approached Sera. He stopped at a respectful distance. “Working?” Sera looked at him. “Yes.” Panam didn't react. Not visibly. The man continued. “I'd like to make an offer.” Sera nodded. “Go ahead.” “One point four.” Panam nearly inhaled her drink. Birgitta caught it. So did Sera. The man didn't. Sera studied him. Asked his name. Asked what he wanted. Listened. Panam stayed quiet. Birgitta watched her instead of Sera. There was no jealousy in Panam's face. Curiosity, perhaps. A little amusement. And something else. Understanding. She knew what Sera was doing. The number opened the conversation. Nothing more. Eventually Sera shook her head. “No.” The man accepted it. No argument. “Thank you for hearing me.” “You're welcome.” He left. Panam waited until he was out of earshot. Then: “One point four.” Sera looked at her. “Yes.” “You said no.” “Yes.” Panam pointed at herself. “One.” “Yes.” Birgitta smiled. Panam caught her. “Don't.” “I didn't say anything.” “That's contagious.” Sera laughed. Panam looked at her. “So what was wrong with him?” “Nothing.” “Then why no?” “I didn't want him.” Panam stopped. Simple answer. Sera continued: “The money got him the conversation.” Panam nodded slowly. Then smiled. “Okay.” She understood. Birgitta saw it settle. Seven figures wasn't Sera's price. It was the door. And Panam had never needed the door. --- Deja wandered over. Decision-making fully her own again. No leash. No Dalia deciding whether she could talk. She looked at Birgitta. “Eight.” Birgitta groaned. “Please don't.” “Mandi is seven.” “I know.” “You're ahead.” “Apparently.” “You going for nine?” Birgitta looked at her. “No.” Deja blinked. “No?” “No.” “Why?” Birgitta shrugged. “I've had enough.” The answer felt good. Not exhaustion. Not regret. Enough. A complete evening. Deja nodded. “Fair.” Panam looked at her. “You were counting too?” “Everybody was counting.” “I wasn't.” “You were busy spending your enormous Dakota fortune.” Panam pointed. “Dog.” Deja froze. Birgitta nearly choked. Dalia called from several meters away: “PANAM.” Panam smiled sweetly. “What?” Deja narrowed her eyes. “You wouldn't.” Panam looked toward the street. Then back at her. “Wouldn't what?” Deja stared. Panam stared back. Birgitta watched two people who knew each other far too well negotiate mutually assured destruction without another word. Finally Deja nodded. “Truce.” “Truce.” They shook hands. Birgitta laughed. --- The shift was changing. Not ending. Jig-Jig didn't really end. But the texture of the night had begun to move. Some faces had disappeared. Others arrived. The air had cooled. Birgitta noticed fatigue in her legs for the first time. Good fatigue. Sera noticed too. “You're done.” Birgitta looked at her. “I said that.” “No. You're physically done.” Panam looked at Birgitta. “You okay?” “Yes.” She was. Just tired. Eight bookings. A first shift. A secret carried through an entire night in front of people who knew Reyes better than almost anyone. And Panam. Twenty-five thousand and two. Birgitta smiled to herself. Panam noticed. “What?” “Nothing.” “Again?” “Good nothing.” Panam considered. “Fine.” Sera looked toward Suzie. Then back. “Close out?” Birgitta nodded. “Yes.” There. The word felt surprisingly significant. Not because she wanted the night to end. Because she knew there would be another one. She didn't have to squeeze anything else from this. No ninth booking. No need to turn the night into a scoreboard. No final test. She'd already answered the only question that mattered. Birgitta worked. And Reyes wanted her back. Panam finished her drink. “I'll walk with you.” Birgitta looked at her. “You don't have to.” “I know.” Sera smiled. Panam looked at her. “What?” “Nothing.” Panam groaned. “Oh, fuck both of you.” Birgitta laughed. And somewhere in the back of her mind, another thought appeared. Small. Interesting. Dangerous enough to save for later. Panam liked Birgitta. Not Reyes. Not because she knew who was underneath. Birgitta. A woman who technically didn't exist. Yet. That was going to become complicated. Birgitta found herself smiling again. Maybe complicated wasn't always bad. --- # CHAPTER 26 — CLOSE OUT Suzie Q didn't make a ceremony of it. Birgitta appreciated that. She waited until Suzie had finished speaking with one of the Mox near the bar, then stepped closer. “I'm done.” Suzie looked at her. “Yeah.” Birgitta smiled. “That obvious?” “To me.” Suzie's eyes moved over her once. Not inspecting. Reading. “You're still standing straight. Still smiling. Still paying attention. But you're not looking anymore.” “For what?” “The next one.” Birgitta considered that. Accurate. “No.” “Good.” Suzie opened the night's record. “Eight.” “Yes.” “First shift.” “Yes.” Suzie looked up. “You don't have to sound surprised every time somebody says that.” Birgitta laughed. “I'm not surprised.” “Little bit.” “Maybe.” Suzie went back to the record. “Any problems?” “No.” “Anyone push a boundary?” “No.” “Anything happen that you didn't know how to handle?” Birgitta thought about that one. There had been uncertainty. Plenty of it. Tomas. Emil. Katja and Jonas. Sera. Panam. Moments where she'd had to decide instead of relying on experience she didn't have. But— “No.” Suzie looked up. Birgitta corrected herself. “Nothing I couldn't handle.” “Different answer.” “Better one.” “Yeah.” Suzie finished another part of the closeout. “Anything you regret?” That answer came faster. “No.” “Anything you wouldn't do again?” Birgitta smiled. “Yes.” Suzie waited. Birgitta didn't elaborate. Suzie nodded. “Good.” That surprised her. “You don't want to know?” “No.” “Why ask?” “To make sure you know.” Birgitta stared at her for a second. Then smiled. “Fair.” Suzie completed the closeout. Birgitta looked at the total. The number was substantial. More importantly, it was hers. Not simply money received. Work done. Eight times a booking had taken shape. Eight times she had decided. Eight bookings completed. And somewhere during those eight, the question she'd brought to Jig-Jig had quietly stopped being a question. Suzie noticed her looking. “Don't fall in love with the number.” Birgitta looked up. “I won't.” “Good.” Suzie closed the record. “You're welcome back.” There it was. Simple. No speech. No congratulations. No qualification. Birgitta felt absurdly pleased anyway. “When?” Suzie raised an eyebrow. “You tell me.” “Soon.” “Thought so.” Birgitta smiled. Suzie leaned back against the bar. “One piece of advice.” Birgitta waited. “Don't come back tomorrow just because tonight went well.” “I wasn't planning to.” “Good.” “Why?” “First good shift can make people want to prove it wasn't luck.” Birgitta understood that immediately. She could feel the temptation even now. One more night. One more test. Another chance to demonstrate that eight hadn't been novelty. That clients would still choose her after the new-girl effect faded. Then she realized something. She didn't need to prove any of that tonight. “I'll come back when I want to work.” Suzie nodded. “Now you're learning.” Birgitta smiled. “Good night, Suzie.” “Night, Birgitta.” She turned away. “Hey.” Birgitta looked back. Suzie smiled. “Good first shift.” Birgitta's smile widened. “Yeah.” It had been. --- The others hadn't gone anywhere. Of course they hadn't. Mandi sat on the rail. Dalia stood near her. Deja had somehow found more food. Nova and Vega were sharing a container between them. Sera leaned comfortably against Panam. Panam was still there. Birgitta noticed. Mandi saw her coming. “Eight.” Birgitta stopped. “Do you have any other words?” “Yes.” “Use one.” “No.” Birgitta gave her the finger. Panam laughed. Dalia shook her head. Deja held out the food. “Want one?” Birgitta took something without asking what it was. “Thank you.” “Eight.” Birgitta stared at her. Deja smiled. “Sorry.” “No, you're not.” “No.” Birgitta ate it. Too salty. Too greasy. Exactly right. Nova looked at her. “Done?” “Yes.” “For the night?” “Yes.” Vega smiled. “Smart.” Mandi looked offended. “What does that mean?” “Nothing.” “Everybody keeps saying nothing tonight.” Panam looked at her. “Now you know how it feels.” Mandi considered that. “Fair.” Birgitta leaned against the rail. For the first time all evening, she wasn't working. Not waiting. Not evaluating anyone approaching. Not wondering whether a glance might become a conversation. She could simply stand there. It felt different immediately. Lighter. Mandi looked at her. “You finished ahead.” “I know.” “You didn't.” “No.” “Why?” “I was done.” Mandi studied her. Then nodded. “Good.” Birgitta blinked. “That's it?” “What?” “No harassment?” Mandi smiled. “Seven.” “There it is.” Panam laughed. --- Dalia stepped closer. “Coming back?” “Yes.” Immediate. No need to think. Dalia smiled. “Soon?” “Probably.” Deja swallowed her food. “Next time I'm beating you.” Mandi turned. “Excuse me?” Deja looked at her. “You too.” “Oh, now we're doing this?” “We've been doing this all night.” “It isn't a competition.” Birgitta looked at her. Deja looked at her. Dalia looked between them. Panam started laughing before anyone said another word. Mandi pointed at her. “What?” “Nothing.” “Fuck all of you.” Nova nearly dropped the food. Vega caught it. Birgitta laughed. This. She liked this too. Not only the rooms. Not only the bookings. The space between them. Workers returning. Stories becoming jokes. Somebody disappearing with a client and returning later with a smile nobody needed explained. A strange little community formed by people who had chosen to be here. Birgitta hadn't expected that either. --- Sera came closer. Not intimately. Not here. Not with everyone watching. Just another worker speaking to the new one. “You did well.” Birgitta smiled. “So you keep saying.” “Don't make me stop.” “You wouldn't.” Sera's eyes held hers. For one fraction too long. Then: “Try me.” Birgitta laughed. Panam watched them. Not suspiciously. Amused. “You two are weird.” Birgitta looked at her. “We met tonight.” “That's why you're weird.” Sera smiled. Panam shook her head. “You've been like this for hours.” “Some people are easy to annoy,” Birgitta said. Sera nodded. “She is.” Birgitta stared. Panam laughed. No danger. Just three people who had found an easy rhythm unusually quickly. Panam looked at Birgitta. “You really coming back?” “Yes.” “Good.” Birgitta tilted her head. Panam caught it. “What?” “You sound pleased.” “I am.” “Why?” Panam shrugged. “Maybe I want another twenty-five-thousand-and-two-eddie bargain.” Sera closed her eyes. Birgitta laughed. “That price has expired.” “Already?” “Inflation.” “Night City is brutal.” “Very.” Panam smiled. There was something beneath it. Not enough to name. Birgitta didn't try. --- The night continued around them. A joytoy Birgitta had seen earlier crossed the street with a client. Two men stood under a holo arguing about food. A woman with polished synthetic arms laughed loud enough to turn several heads. A full-conversion feline walked past carrying three coffees and looking exhausted. Nothing paused for Birgitta's first shift ending. She liked that. Jig-Jig kept moving. Panam took another drink. Then looked toward Sera. A prospective client had stopped a few meters away. “Working?” Sera looked at him. “Yes.” “I'd like to make an offer.” Sera nodded. “Go ahead.” “One point four million.” Panam coughed. Birgitta turned her face away before she laughed. Sera remained composed. “What's your name?” “Caleb.” “What are you looking for, Caleb?” He told her. Quietly. Sera listened. Asked two questions. Caleb answered both. Then Sera shook her head. “No.” No apology. No negotiation. Caleb nodded. “Thank you for hearing me.” “You're welcome.” He left. Panam stared at Sera. “One point four.” “Yes.” “You said no.” “Yes.” Panam pointed at herself. “One.” “Yes.” Birgitta bit her lip. Panam saw. “Don't.” “I haven't said anything.” “You don't need to anymore.” Sera laughed. Panam looked at her. “What was wrong with him?” “Nothing.” “Then why no?” “I didn't want him.” Panam stopped. Sera shrugged lightly. “The offer got him the conversation.” Understanding moved across Panam's face. “Oh.” Sera smiled. “Yeah.” Panam looked after Caleb. Then back at Sera. “So seven figures isn't really your price.” “No.” “It's the point where you'll listen.” “For a stranger, yes.” Panam looked at her. “And if you still don't want them—” “No.” “Even for one point four.” “Yes.” Panam nodded slowly. Something about that clearly interested her. Birgitta watched. Said nothing. Panam noticed. “What?” “Nothing.” “There it is again.” Birgitta smiled. --- Eventually Sera looked at Birgitta's posture. Then at her face. “You're tired.” Birgitta considered denying it. Didn't. “Yes.” Panam looked at her. “You've been working all night.” “Apparently.” “Six.” Birgitta pointed at her. “Careful.” Panam grinned. “Seven.” “Oh, fuck you.” “Already did.” Silence. Panam froze. Birgitta froze. Sera's mouth opened. Deja turned. Dalia turned. Mandi's head snapped around. Nova looked at Vega. Vega looked delighted. Panam closed her eyes. “Oh, fuck.” Mandi slid off the rail laughing. Deja bent forward. Dalia covered her face. Birgitta lasted perhaps three seconds. Then she lost it too. Panam pointed blindly at all of them. “Nobody says a fucking word.” Mandi was unable to breathe. Birgitta leaned against the rail laughing. Panam opened her eyes. Saw her. And started laughing too. It took a while. Eventually Birgitta managed: “Twenty-five thousand and two.” Panam made a strangled sound. The entire group went again. --- That was probably the moment Birgitta knew the night was genuinely over. Nothing was going to improve on it. She wiped one eye. “I am leaving.” Mandi managed: “Six.” Birgitta gave her the finger again. Deja called: “Next time!” Nova and Vega waved. Dalia smiled. “Good night, Birgitta.” “Good night.” Sera stepped closer. “Good night.” Nothing else. Couldn't be. Didn't need to be. Birgitta smiled. “Good night, Sera.” Panam pushed away from the rail. “I'll walk with you.” Birgitta looked at her. “You don't have to.” “I know.” “Okay.” Panam blinked. “That easy?” “You already won this argument once.” “Good.” Sera looked at Panam. “You coming back?” Panam nodded. “Yeah.” Sera kissed her. Warm. Familiar. Then stepped back. Panam touched her waist once before letting go. Birgitta watched without awkwardness. She'd been between them less than an hour earlier. That seemed simultaneously recent and strangely separate. Sera looked at Birgitta. Tiny smile. Safe. Then Birgitta and Panam turned away from Jig-Jig. --- For the first block, Panam complained about traffic. Birgitta let her. Apparently the routing system had committed a personal betrayal of historic proportions. “It changed the route after I turned.” “Terrible.” “It is terrible.” “Have you considered therapy?” Panam stared at her. “For my navigation?” “For your relationship with your truck.” “My truck is fine.” “You were arguing with it.” “It was wrong.” Birgitta laughed. Panam smiled. “See? This is why I liked you.” “Past tense?” “Don't push it.” They crossed the street. The noise of Jig-Jig softened behind them. Not gone. Just distant enough that their conversation no longer had to compete with it. Panam put her hands into her jacket pockets. “You really liked tonight.” Birgitta looked at her. “Yes.” “I mean really.” “Yes.” Panam walked a few more steps. “I could tell.” Birgitta smiled. “That obvious?” “Toward the end.” “How?” “You stopped looking like somebody proving she could do it.” That caught Birgitta. Panam continued walking. Birgitta joined her. “What did I look like?” “Like you were having fun.” Simple. Accurate. Birgitta looked ahead. “I was.” Panam nodded. Then: “Why'd you start?” There it was. A perfectly ordinary question. Birgitta considered how much of the truth belonged to Birgitta. Enough. “I was curious.” Panam looked at her. “That's it?” “Mostly.” “About the work?” “Yes.” “What part?” “All of it.” Panam laughed. “Useful answer.” Birgitta smiled. “I wanted to know what it was actually like.” “And?” “Nothing like imagining it.” “Better?” “For me?” Birgitta thought. “Yes.” Panam nodded. They walked. Birgitta didn't fill the silence. Panam eventually did. “Were you scared?” “A little.” “Of clients?” “Not exactly.” “What, then?” “Finding out I hated it.” Panam looked at her. Birgitta shrugged. “Curiosity works both ways.” “Fair.” “I could've walked away after one.” “But you did six.” “Yes.” “And now you're coming back.” “Yes.” Panam smiled. “That's a pretty decisive answer.” “It is.” They crossed another intersection. Panam became quiet again. Not awkwardly. Thinking. Birgitta recognized it. She didn't know what Panam was thinking. That distinction mattered. So she didn't invent an answer for her. --- “You know what I didn't expect?” Panam asked eventually. “What?” “How normal it is.” Birgitta looked at her. Panam gestured vaguely back toward Jig-Jig. “Not the street. I've been there before. I mean the work.” Birgitta waited. “People walk up. Ask. You talk. Sometimes yes, sometimes no. Then everybody goes back to eating shitty food and making fun of each other.” Birgitta laughed. “That's a summary.” “You know what I mean.” “Yes.” “I think I expected more…” Panam searched. “Performance?” “Maybe.” “There is some.” “Sure.” “But?” Panam thought. “But you didn't look like somebody else when you came back.” Birgitta's pulse gave one hard beat. Panam kept walking. No hidden meaning. None. She meant after bookings. Birgitta forced herself not to supply knowledge Panam didn't have. “What did I look like?” “Happy.” The beat passed. Birgitta smiled. “I was.” Panam glanced at her. “That's what I mean.” They kept walking. --- The transit hub appeared ahead. Birgitta had chosen it before leaving Jig-Jig. Neutral. Busy. No connection to anywhere Reyes needed to go. She pointed. “There.” Panam looked toward it. “You're taking transit?” “For part of the way.” “Where do you live?” Birgitta smiled. “No.” Panam laughed. “Okay.” “Occupational hazard.” “Clients follow you?” “Sometimes people get curious.” Panam looked at her. “I'm curious.” “Yes.” “But I'm not following you.” “Good.” “Unless your route planner sends me there.” Birgitta laughed. “That would be impressive.” They reached the entrance. Birgitta stopped. Panam did too. For a moment neither spoke. The night had changed again. No Sera. No booking. No crowd. No money. Just the end of a walk. Panam looked at her. “So.” Birgitta smiled. “You really do say that a lot.” “Shut up.” “No.” Panam laughed. Then her expression softened. “I'd like to see you again.” Birgitta felt a small warmth settle somewhere unexpected. “You probably will.” “That's not what I meant.” No joke in it. Birgitta looked at her. Panam didn't retreat from the statement. Good. “Then yes,” Birgitta said. Panam smiled. “Good.” A small pause. Then Panam stepped closer. Stopped. Waited. Birgitta understood the question. She answered by closing the distance. The kiss was brief. Nothing like upstairs. No booking attached. No Sera between or beside them. No agreed hour. Just Panam kissing Birgitta good night. When they separated, Panam stayed close for a second. “Free?” Birgitta laughed. “This one.” “Finally.” Panam stepped back. “Good night, Birgitta.” “Good night, Panam.” Panam turned. Walked away. After several steps, she looked back. Birgitta was still there. Panam lifted one hand. Birgitta waved. Then Panam disappeared into the moving city. --- Birgitta waited. Not because she wanted another look. Because Reyes was careful. One minute. Two. Three. People moved around her. Nobody paid attention. Good. She entered the transit hub. Changed levels. Took the first leg in the wrong direction. Changed again. Then again. Boring. Methodical. Necessary. Only when she was satisfied that Birgitta's path led nowhere useful did she allow herself to relax. She caught her reflection in a dark transit window. Stopped. Muted copper-grey hair. Light brown eyes. The face Panam had looked into all evening. The woman Suzie had just invited back. Birgitta. For the first time since Lena had finished with her, nobody else was there to see. No clients. No working partners. No friends. No one she needed to fool. Reyes looked at the reflection. Eight bookings. She had expected the disguise to work. Expected the voice to hold. Expected the face to survive close attention. Expected herself to be capable of doing the work. She had not expected to love it. That was the surprise. Not fooling everyone. Not eight bookings. Not even Panam. The work. The people. Choosing. Being chosen. Walking back onto the street afterward and wanting to do it again. Reyes studied the woman in the glass. She could stop now. Call the experiment successful. Let Victor undo the temporary work. Put Birgitta away. Nobody would ever need to know. The thought lasted perhaps two seconds. Reyes smiled. “No.” The reflection smiled with her. She wasn't finished with Birgitta. Not remotely. And for once, Reyes didn't need to know exactly what came next. She only needed to know one thing. There would be a next time. --- # CHAPTER 27 — THE CONTAINER Birgitta changed trains twice. Then took a cab. Then walked. Not because anyone was following her. Nobody was. She had checked. Then checked again. The precautions weren't about tonight. They were about next time. That thought had become surprisingly easy. Next time. The container sat in a storage yard far enough from Jig-Jig, the safehouse, O'Sullivan SAS and every ordinary piece of Reyes's life that there was no useful line between any of them. That had been the point. Reyes had found the place before Birgitta's first shift. Paid without creating a trail she cared about. Chosen a container among hundreds of others because there was absolutely nothing interesting about it. No hidden bunker. No elaborate safehouse. No connection to anyone she knew. Just a rented steel box in a yard full of rented steel boxes. Perfect. Birgitta approached it alone. One last look around. Nothing. She opened the lock. The door swung outward. Darkness. Birgitta stepped inside and closed it behind her. A small light came on. The interior was sparse. Deliberately. A narrow bench. A mirror. Secure storage. A garment rail. Basic washing facilities. A shower. Enough climate control to keep the equipment and clothing in proper condition. And, folded on the bench, Reyes's clothes. She stood still for a moment. The silence felt strange. No music. No clients. No Mandi calling numbers from across the street. No Deja trying to turn everything into a competition. No Dalia watching everyone. No Nova and Vega. No Suzie Q. No Sera. No Panam. Birgitta looked at herself in the mirror. Smoked copper-grey hair. Light brown eyes. The Scandinavian face. Lena's clothes. The woman who had walked onto Jig-Jig for the first time tonight. The woman who had walked off it knowing she would return. Birgitta smiled at her reflection. Bright. Easy. Still there. “Okay.” The voice was still hers too. That wasn't going anywhere tonight. Or tomorrow. Victor's work would fade on its own. Until then, Reyes would simply have to remember what voice would come out if she opened her mouth. She had managed harder things. --- The clothes came first. Not hurriedly. They had cost too much for that. More importantly, they belonged to a cover Reyes intended to use again. That changed the way she handled everything. The elegant outer layer came off and went where it belonged. Then the rest. Each piece checked. Nothing damaged. Nothing missing. Nothing casually dropped onto the floor simply because the shift was over. The shoes went into their storage. Accessories followed. Everything had a place. Reyes had always liked systems that made mistakes obvious. Birgitta was becoming one. Not only a face and voice. A complete operational package. Except this package had spent most of the evening having sex for money and laughing at Mandi. Reyes smiled. That was new. She stood in front of the mirror in the last of Birgitta's clothing. Then removed that too. The face came next. She washed her hands. Prepared the storage unit. Checked it once. Then reached for the mesh. No Victor. No technician. None needed. The second-generation system had been designed to be lived in, maintained and handled by its wearer. Reyes knew the procedure. She initiated the release. Waited. The dermal-conforming mesh disengaged cleanly. Not peeling away like cheap synthskin. Not revealing seams that had somehow been there all night. The interface released because Reyes told it to. Only now. Only here. She removed it carefully. For the first time since before Jig-Jig, Reyes's own face looked back from the mirror. She stopped. Just looked. Her own face. Birgitta's hair. Birgitta's eyes. Birgitta's voice, if she chose to speak. The combination was absurd. Reyes smiled. Her own smile was smaller. Less openly inviting. More familiar. She looked down at the mesh in her hands. Panam had looked into that face. Touched it. Kissed it. Never questioned it. Mandi hadn't. Dalia hadn't. Deja hadn't. Nova and Vega hadn't. Suzie hadn't. Sera had known. Reyes smiled again. Of course Sera had known. She inspected the mesh carefully. Clean. No damage. Then began the maintenance routine. Patient. Methodical. The same attention she'd give any equipment she trusted with her life. Because in a different way, this deserved exactly that. When she was finished, the mesh went into its protected storage. Not discarded. Not hidden temporarily. Stored. Waiting. Reyes closed the compartment. That felt significant. More than she expected. --- The contacts came next. One. Then the other. She cleaned and stored them. Reyes looked at herself again. Closer. Another piece of Birgitta gone. Hair remained. Voice remained. She looked toward the shower. “Right.” Birgitta answered. Reyes stopped. Then laughed. The sound came out bright and lively. Completely wrong for the face in the mirror. That made her laugh harder. “Fuck.” Still Birgitta. This was going to be annoying. And probably funny for approximately the first twelve hours. After that, mostly annoying. Reyes stepped into the shower. Hot water. For several seconds she simply stood under it. The night began to leave her physically. Heat in tired muscles. Street residue. Perfume. Other people. Eight bookings. One long first shift. She closed her eyes. Then reached up. ChromeLock. Release. The lock disengaged. Water ran through the smoked copper-grey. Color began to move. At first in thin streams. Then more. Reyes worked her fingers through her hair. Again. Rinsed. Again. Copper-grey disappeared down the drain. Not permanent. Never meant to be. Underneath, Reyes returned. Red. Familiar. Hers. She kept rinsing until the water ran clean. Then once more because Reyes didn't trust “probably.” Only then did she stop. She stood under the water for another minute. Eyes closed. No hurry. No one waiting. No role to perform. She could finally feel how tired she was. Not wrecked. Not emptied. Satisfied. There was a difference. A large one. --- She dried herself. Checked the mirror. Red hair. Her own eyes. Her own face. Reyes. Then she said: “Reyes.” Birgitta said it back. Reyes stared at herself. “That's fucking disturbing.” Bright. Warm. Almost cheerful. She closed her eyes. Victor had warned her. Three to five days. Nothing wrong. Nothing to fix. Just time. Fine. She could work around time. Reyes dressed. Her own clothes felt different after an entire shift in Birgitta's wardrobe. Not better. Not worse. Familiar. She checked the Birgitta set again. Clothing. Shoes. Contacts. Face mesh. Accessories. Everything accounted for. Everything maintained. Everything ready to remain here. Reyes looked around the container. Until tonight, it had been preparation. A contingency. A place to change before the experiment and erase the connection afterward. Now it was something else. A wardrobe. A cache. A private door into another life. Reyes didn't particularly like the last formulation. Too dramatic. She looked at the shelves instead. Practical. Better. The container held Birgitta. That was enough. --- She sat on the bench. Just for a minute. That became five. Her body appreciated the decision. Reyes leaned forward, elbows on knees. The shift replayed itself in fragments. Not chronologically. The first approach. Suzie watching her. Mandi failing to recognize her. The ridiculous satisfaction of that. Nova and Vega. Dalia and Deja. Tomas relaxing. Katja. Jonas. The ear scratch. Deja's face afterward. Reyes smiled. That one would remain useful for years. Sera looking at her. Knowing. _Successful cover, Reyes._ Then treating Birgitta like a stranger in public without missing a beat. The pair booking. The food. The teasing. The work. Reyes's smile faded into something quieter. The work. That was still the surprising part. She had gone there to answer a question. Could she do it? Obviously. She'd expected that answer. Reyes knew what she was capable of. Could she fool people who knew her? Apparently. That had been satisfying. Would the cover survive real use? Yes. Would clients choose her? Yes. Six times. But there had been another question underneath those. One she hadn't treated seriously enough before tonight. Would she actually enjoy being a joytoy? Reyes looked at the closed compartment holding Birgitta's face. “Yes.” The voice was wrong. The answer wasn't. She had loved it. Not every second. Not every client equally. Not every decision. That wasn't necessary. She had loved the work as a whole. The conversations before. The moment of deciding yes. The freedom to decide no. Learning what somebody wanted. Discovering what she wanted inside the same encounter. The physical pleasure. The professional satisfaction. Coming back out afterward. The other workers. The jokes. The strange, easy rhythm of Jig-Jig. She'd loved enough of it that six hadn't felt like endurance. She had stopped because she'd had enough. Not because she'd wanted to escape. That distinction mattered. Reyes sat with it. No need to turn it into anything larger tonight. No need to decide what Birgitta would become. No schedule. No target. No second-shift plan. Suzie had been right. She didn't need to prove tonight wasn't luck. She could simply come back when she wanted to. Reyes smiled. That would be soon. --- Panam entered her thoughts without permission. Reyes sighed. “Of course.” Birgitta sounded far too pleased about it. Reyes leaned back against the container wall. That was separate. Mostly. Panam had booked Sera and Birgitta. Fine. Panam and Sera already had their own relationship. Fine. Panam had liked Birgitta. Also fine. Panam had then chosen to walk Birgitta away from Jig-Jig. Still fine. Then she'd said she wanted to see her again. Reyes looked at the ceiling. And kissed her goodbye. Reyes remained very still. There was absolutely no operational problem here. That was almost irritating. Panam had no reason to connect Birgitta to Reyes. She hadn't recognized her. She hadn't become suspicious. She hadn't asked dangerous questions. She had simply— liked her. Reyes rubbed a hand over her face. Her own face. That was going to take a little getting used to. Panam liked Birgitta. Reyes found that— She stopped herself. No. Not tonight. That could sit where it was. There was no requirement to analyze every interesting thing immediately. Reyes had learned patience professionally. She could occasionally try it personally. She stood. --- One final check. Mesh secured. Contacts secured. Wardrobe stored. Shoes stored. Nothing left in the shower. Nothing identifying Birgitta carried out except a voice that would disappear on its own. Reyes looked around. Then opened a separate empty compartment. She stared at it. There would be more. Not because Lena had forgotten anything. Because a recurring identity accumulated things. Different clothes. Different shoes. Different contexts. Maybe equipment. Maybe personal objects that belonged to Birgitta and nobody else. Reyes closed the compartment. Later. She killed the main light. Opened the door. Cold yard air entered. Reyes stepped outside. Closed the container. Locked it. Checked the lock. Then checked it again. She stood there for a moment in her own clothes, with her own face, her own red hair— and Birgitta's voice. Close enough. The steel container behind her looked exactly like every other steel container in the yard. That pleased her. Nobody looking at it would see anything. Nobody would know that behind one anonymous door sat an entire woman. Reyes started walking. After several steps she stopped. Looked back. Not sentimentally. Just once. The experiment was over. That was the wrong sentence. Reyes smiled. The first shift was over. Much better. She turned away from the container and headed home.