The electrical blast ripped through the cabin, finishing off the last Maelstrom gang members.
"Fuck, that's good!"
Rebecca whooped as two Arc Stars wiped out an entire carload of enemies.
With no one left chasing them, Rocky eased off the throttle. Rebecca pulled herself upright, braced her hands on his shoulders, and spoke into his ear.
"Hey. Where'd you get those things?"
"My own grenades. Secret recipe. If you want some, I can get you a few."
He'd bought the grenade pack as an emergency measure, but manufacturing them was worth considering. Their capabilities and performance were excellent, and they weren't especially expensive.
"You made them? Bullshit. How many secrets have you got?"
Every time she thought she had him figured out, he surprised her again. First he was a ripperdoc. Then he was hiring her. A moment ago he'd been picking a fight with Maelstrom like a hardened Night City merc. Now he claimed he could manufacture grenades?
"There's plenty you don't know about me. You'll find out, though. We've got time."
"Guess we do."
She nodded, more curious about him than ever.
Only then did she remember that her legs were still wrapped around his waist. She quickly unhooked them and went back to holding him with her arms.
"Sorry. Couldn't get an angle any other way."
The pressure around his waist disappeared. Her explanation was matter-of-fact, without a trace of embarrassment or coyness.
"Don't worry. It was pretty comfortable." Rocky grinned.
With his physical strength, that little pressure hadn't bothered him. He'd actually enjoyed it. Having her soft legs wrapped around him felt good. He wondered what it would feel like without clothes in the way.
Hearing his teasing tone, Rebecca tapped his left hand with her pistol and grinned back.
"Watch it, you bastard. I might kill you."
Fighting together had quickly brought them closer. Rebecca was starting to consider him a friend in earnest.
At her apartment building, she let go, climbed off the bike, and waved.
"See you tomorrow, L."
"Tomorrow."
He watched her go up the steps, then rode back to his megabuilding.
* * *
The next morning, Rocky was at a warehouse in Japantown.
He'd rented it anonymously through the black market to store stock and handle deliveries. Inside, he checked the stimulants awaiting dispatch. Each package already bore a label for its destination clinic.
Someone knocked on the door. Rebecca had arrived.
He raised the shutter to find her waiting, full of energy.
"Morning, L!"
"Morning."
He looked past her. A car was parked outside, apparently the one she'd arrived in.
"Who's that?"
Falco sat inside, facing forward. He hadn't noticed Rocky looking at him.
"Falco. Our crew's driver," Rebecca explained.
After getting home the night before, she'd told Maine she had picked up a job. He'd had no objection. The crew had nothing lined up for the next few days, so he'd told her to handle it herself.
She'd then contacted Falco and asked him to help. She didn't own a vehicle, and a delivery run needed a driver.
He'd accepted gladly. Few people would turn down five thousand eddies for driving around Night City.
"Got it. Come in."
Rocky ushered her into the warehouse and pointed at the stacked boxes.
"Here's the stock. Every package is labeled."
"No problem."
"I'll leave you to it, then. I've got to go."
He gave her an access card, picked up a box of stimulants, and left through the rear door.
He took the stimulants with him and rode to Vik's clinic.
"What brings you around today?" Vik set aside his work as Rocky came in.
"Just dropping off some stimulants."
Rocky set a box containing a hundred doses of Power Stimulant Type II on the desk.
"Type II. You can sell them here."
Vik picked one up. It was identical to the dose he'd bought from another clinic earlier.
"These are worth a fair bit. I'll transfer the money."
"Come on, Vik. They only cost me a few thousand to make. That's a fraction of what I owe you. Just take them."
Rocky still owed him nearly a hundred thousand eddies for supplies. Vik made it far too easy to keep running up a debt. But Rocky really couldn't repay it yet. He would have to wait until the second batch of orders brought in its money before considering that.
"Forget the debt for now. You could sell these elsewhere for nearly twenty thousand. You need the money more than I do."
"You know I don't want to hear that. Keep them. Call it interest on what I owe you."
"...All right."
Vik shook his head. Knowing he wouldn't change Rocky's mind, he accepted the box and put it away.
Rocky took out another bag of stimulants and handed it over.
"These are a different model. The original version. Not for sale. They're more effective than the ones in the box, and they help injuries heal quickly. Not everyone can use them, though. There are requirements."
"I brought a few for you. Use them yourself or give them to your patients. They could make a real difference if someone comes in badly hurt."
Vik took one from the bag. It looked much the same as the others, except for the Type I marking on the casing.
"Why aren't you selling these? Better results should mean a bigger market."
Rocky smiled.
"Habit, maybe. I like keeping the best things for myself. Leaves me a few more cards to play. As for what I sell, anything that makes money does the job."
"Makes sense."
Vik nodded. Nothing wrong with keeping the good stuff. Even the big corporations issued their most advanced technology to their own people first.
"Anyway, that's everything. I'd better go open the clinic. My customers are probably getting impatient."
With the delivery made, Rocky didn't linger. He said goodbye and headed back to his own clinic.