"What's the holdup? Need to go fix your hair first?"
"Shut it Dick. I thought your dates with your girlfriends were more important."
Despite the jab, Johnny still moved his mechanical legs and climbed into the elevator.
"Yeah, and you ruined my date—so now you owe me one, Johnny."
---
It had been a while since they'd come. But Afterlife was still the same old Afterlife. Nothing had really changed.
If there was anything different, it was the lineup of punks loitering outside the entrance, stopped by Emmerick and not allowed inside. One batch after another, they came and went.
Most of the punks knew the rules at Afterlife. Once Emmerick turned them down, they either walked off without making a fuss or stayed by the door to kill time and watch the scene.
Of course, there were always a few who didn't believe the warnings and thought they could test their strength. Then they'd be floored by Emmerick's fists and boots in under three moves, left lying there, barely able to crawl.
"Yo, Emmerick. Still full of energy, I see."
A voice rang out, causing Emmerick and the gathered punks to look over. When they saw Leo descending from above in a white trench coat, even Emmerick's face—normally unmoved like a living fossil—broke into a rare smile.
"It's been a while, Leo."
"Been too busy to even breathe sometimes."
"Ah, here for a drink or to see Rogue? If it's Rogue, I suggest stopping by Claire's for a drink first. She's busy right now—might not have time."
"No problem. I'll grab something to drink first."
Emmerick glanced down at the small robot walking beside Leo—Johnny Silverhand.
"This little bot yours too?"
"Yeah. Pretty sure there's no 'no bots or dogs' rule at Afterlife, right?"
"Nope. If it's yours, go on in."
The punks at the entrance stared in disbelief as Leo greeted Emmerick like an old friend.
"Who the hell is that guy?"
"You don't know him? That's Leo. Rogue's VIP. The fixers around the city all go to him. There's no job he can't handle."
"So that's the Leo? I heard he used to work with Dexter. No one knows what happened, but Dexter ended up dead, and Leo walked away like nothing happened."
"Shh—keep your voice down. That whole mess is way deeper than you think."
---
"Sounds like you've made a name for yourself," Johnny muttered, hearing the conversation outside.
"It's nothing. Just trying to survive." Leo was modest.
He didn't need to show off anymore. Every fixer in the city knew him and what he could do.
Inside, Afterlife hadn't changed much either.
"Want a drink? My treat."
"Look at me. Do I look like I can drink anything but engine oil?"
"Right, right—my bad."
Emmerick had said Rogue was busy—probably tied up with business. After all, she was the Queen of Fixers, the fixer of fixers. There were plenty of people in Night City who needed something from her. That was normal.
But what Leo didn't expect was that just as he was walking toward the bar, shouting broke out from Rogue's private booth.
"No—it was you! You dragged me into this! Because of you, I lost everything!"
"I'll say it one more time, kid. Your mess, your responsibility. Clean it up yourself."
"Here's what I think—go eat shit!"
Then, a young woman with sun-kissed skin stormed out of Rogue's booth, bumping into Crispin, who was guarding the door. She stomped out, full of fury, and the moment she spotted Leo waiting nearby, she snapped at him.
"If you're doing business with her, keep your damn eyes open."
Leo watched as she stormed off. Johnny nudged him with a metal elbow.
"I get it, I get it. You miss some and get some, right?"
"Get what? Shut up." Leo flipped him off. "I've seen her before."
Back when Leo, Jackie, and V were negotiating with Dexter, he'd seen that woman here. Rogue had introduced her to a new partner if memory served him right.
Judging by today's scene, that partner had screwed her over, and now she was back to settle the score with Rogue.
Leo pushed those thoughts aside, greeted Crispin, and stepped into Rogue's booth.
Rogue sat on the couch like always, posture casual yet commanding. When she saw Leo enter with a robot in tow, she cracked a smile.
"Well, if it isn't my favorite little bastard. What breeze blew you in?"
Leo sat down across from her. "Still owe you for that Clemente family job."
"Nothing to thank me for. You paid, I gave intel. But since you brought it up—I'll just say it. You're welcome. Come back anytime."
Johnny climbed up onto the couch, his mechanical eye spinning as he tapped away with his limbs.
"Fuck, Rogue. Still living it up on Afterlife's throne after all these years."
Johnny's words weren't through a speaker—they were sent directly through comms.
"You trying to sell this thing to me?" Rogue asked, unaware Johnny Silverhand's consciousness was inside the robot. She assumed Leo was controlling it.
"No. Uh, cough." Leo cleared his throat and considered how to phrase it. "Hey, Rogue, you still remember Johnny Silverhand?"
Rogue didn't like dumb questions or wasted time—but since it was Leo asking, she was willing to humor him.
"Yeah, I remember. Why?"
"Don't tell me you're a Samurai fan too? Sure, their music was fine back then, but come on—it's been fifty years. Times change. Music does too. Samurai fans are just too stubborn to accept that."
Since he'd climbed up, Johnny hadn't taken his mechanical eye off Rogue.
"Damn, still the same Rogue—always loved taking shots at me."
Leo raised a brow. "She doesn't like your music?"
"No, she just never liked me."
"She didn't like you, and you still sent me to talk to her?"
"No, no—it's a little more complicated than that. I'll explain later... if I feel like it."
"Yeah, sure. Like you're guarding the secrets of the universe."
Leo snorted in disdain. Johnny was a textbook playboy. He'd had multiple girlfriends—actual relationships. As for hookups? Probably not a hundred, but at least eighty.
He was sharp-tongued and awful at casual conversation. Leo had picked up on that during their time together.
Saying Rogue "didn't like" Johnny was oversimplifying it. She probably had a love-hate thing with him.
She loved the talent. Johnny had been a soldier—fought in the Central American Wars. After putting down the gun, he became a legendary rocker, writing lyrics, composing, singing, playing guitar—he did it all. Most U.S. vets came back home lost, many ending up homeless. But Johnny Silverhand became a star, made Samurai a household name across Night City. Calling him "talented" didn't even cut it.
But Rogue also hated him—because someone that talented had to be such an asshole. Arrogant, reckless, defiant to the end.
Leo exchanged a glance with Johnny, who hesitated but still hadn't spoken. So Leo did it for him.
"Rogue, actually… the robot's carrying Johnny Silverhand's consciousness."
Rogue didn't reply, but her expression clearly screamed: Are you fucking kidding me?
If anyone else had said it, she'd have thrown them out already. But it was Leo, so she waited.
Seeing her reaction, Leo wiped imaginary sweat from his brow and looked at Johnny.
"Johnny, do something only the two of you would know."
Johnny stayed silent. He bent one of his mechanical legs into a circle, then slid another leg through it.
Leo stared blankly. He had no idea what that was supposed to mean.
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Note: There is a new fanfiction on my profile, it is a Naruto fanfic. Be sure to check it out!