They both had been busy. Now they finally had a minute.
"I just went out to handle something and got back," Rocky says, raising his glass and rolling the drink once. He already had a round at Lizzie's, but doesn't feel like drinking more. "How's work? Smooth lately?"
"Well enough. Otherwise, who has time to sit here and drink, right? Cheers."
Rebecca clinks and drains hers. Rocky watches her effortless swagger and takes only a small sip.
"L, did something happen?"
"Hmm? Why do you ask?"
He turns. She has been studying his expression. When their eyes meet, he feels a step behind.
"Nothing. You look like you're chewing on something."
"So obvious? Yeah, I did run into a headache."
He has been thinking about the commission, even if he doesn't wear it on his face—credit to Rebecca's read.
"Hah, not that obvious. So, trouble. Need my help?"
"Not exactly. I took a job, but we're short one hacker." He shifts to the point. "By the way, you told me your team has a backup netrunner. Tell me about her."
Going to Lucy cold feels reckless. Better to reach her through Rebecca.
"Eh? You mean Lucy?"
Rebecca turns, points with a little finger, and Rocky follows her line.
On the edge of the noisy crowd, a lone figure sits apart. Rainbow-gradient hair makes her easy to pick out. Her posture and the fitted outfit trace a long, clean line of back and shoulders.
"That one is Lucy," Rebecca says. "Kiwi introduced her. She's been with the team almost a year. She's our backup hacker, and not every job needs her, so sometimes she isn't here. She doesn't talk much with us, usually a bit closed off. Maybe most hackers are like that. I feel like she hasn't truly blended in yet. But skill? Excellent"
Teams often treat their netrunners like exceptional cases. Many run with multiple crews and don't bond tightly. Backup status and short tenure only add to the distance.
"You want her on your commission?" Rebecca asks, already guessing from "we need a hacker."
Rocky nods, matter-of-fact. "Yes. She's one of your people, so that I can trust the reference. And she's backup; I figure you might not need her in the next few days. If we can bring her in, perfect."
"Haha, fair. Lucy's solid."
"Then I'll go talk to her. Thanks, Rebecca."
With the groundwork set, Rocky doesn't linger. He thanks her, takes his drink, and heads toward Lucy.
Rebecca blinks at the sudden urgency. "Hey, what's with him? We barely talked, and he bolted." She sighs and orders another.
Rocky reaches Lucy's table and sits down beside her.
Her expression doesn't change. She doesn't even turn her head. She's used to people trying lines; she is not interested.
She hasn't moved, but her net access port is already live. If some idiot decides to get handsy, she'll show him what happens to people who provoke a netrunner.
Rocky lets a breath settle and takes a closer look. Aside from a brief glimpse earlier, this is his first time seeing Lucy up close, their first contact.
Pretty. That's his quick, honest summary.
He pictured meeting her. Up close, she's even more striking than he imagined. He reins his pulse down fast—lesson learned from last time with Rebecca—and slows his breathing.
"You must be Lucy," he says, finally.
She looks cold on the surface, but that's armor. Break through, and you find heat.
"What is it?" she asks, finally turning when she hears her name.
"I'm Rebecca's friend. I heard you're the netrunner on their team, so I wanted to talk."
"Rebecca?"
"Yeah. I was talking with her over there." He nods.
Lucy glances toward the bar. Rebecca still sits there drinking, but her head is turned, watching them.
Their eyes meet. Rebecca starts to look away, then sees Rocky wave with a smile. She waves back and throws them a thumbs-up.
"See?" Rocky says.
Lucy gives a slight nod. Proof accepted.
What they don't see: Rebecca, back turned again, kills a fresh bottle in one go.
"Figures. That idiot L came to me just to find Lucy," she mutters. "Forget it. Why am I thinking like this? Boss, another."
After several bottles, the warmth climbs into her cheeks. She can't help glancing back. Under the light, Rocky and Lucy sit side by side, talking.
Maybe it's the alcohol, maybe not.
Rocky's back—solid in a way that makes her feel safe—beside Lucy's elegant outline looks like an easy match.
It also makes her feel a small crisis rising, like something of hers might be taken away.