Sex, Chrome, and Rock 'n' Roll

Burning Rubber

I'd awoken the next morning in a fog from deep sleep interrupted by the sound of my holo device ringing. I winced as I opened my eyes to the sunlight blazing through the open window I'd forgotten to close the night before.

Why was the sun so bright this morning?

"V? Hello?" Regina Jones's voice echoed from my holo.

Shaking my head and groaning, I replied, "Yeah. Sorry. I'm here."

What the hell time was it?

"Sorry for waking you—at noon."

Christ. What the fuck?

"Yeah. Was a long night." I gulped, memories of Johnny's touch making my stomach knot up. "Did you have something for me?"

"I do. If you're up for it."

Rubbing my palms against my eyes, I held back a yawn. "Yeah. Gimme the deets."

"A client named Phillip Hornsby, a man with an overdue gambling debt that keeps dodging him. Hornsby wants him scrubbed."

"Easy enough." I scooted to the edge of the bed, resting my feet on the floor. "Quietly?"

"Didn't say. I'd assume by any means possible since the guy has been avoiding paying his debt for months. Will send you the coordinates of his last known location."

Stifling another yawn, I nodded. "Sounds good. We'll head out straight away."

"We? You get a partner I didn't know about?"

Fuck.

"Yes," Johnny said, glitching in front of me with his arms folded.

"I. I meant I'll head out straight away. Still groggy."

"Good. And do yourself a favor, V. Maybe have a coffee before you head out to assassinate someone?"

I smirked. "Will do."

Regina hung up, and I held my face in my hands.

"Someone got some good rest last night. I wonder. Why." Johnny dropped his face in front of mine, his gaze peering over the rim of his sunglasses, a satisfied, smug grin curving his lips.

"Don't start with your shit already, Johnny. I just woke up." I grimaced and stood, waving my hand at him as I whisked past him straight to my quaint coffee machine.

Johnny glitched into the living room, leaning on my bookshelf. "I'm waitin' for the gratitude."

"Excuse me?" I snorted, slipped a cup under the dispenser, and pushed the button to expel steamy black coffee.

"I don't get thanks for alleviating the burden of you rubbin' one out yourself?" A sly grin quirked his lips.

Snatching the prepared coffee, I blew on it. "You can't be serious."

Using his middle finger, Johnny slid the aviators down his nose, staring at me and raising a brow.

"For the love of—" Turning to face him, I plastered a fake smile and, in a robotic tone, replied, "Johnny, thanks so much. You're my savior."

Johnny snickered and pushed the glasses back up, still flicking me off. "Was that so hard?"

Giving a glare as my only answer, I turned away from him, scooping a left-over burrito resting on the counter into my hand. After several sniffs, I scarfed down the cold snack as make-shift breakfast.

"We got a gig?" Johnny asked, glitching in front of me and grimacing at my poor food choices.

"Bag and tag." As I shoved the rest of the stale burrito in my mouth, I whisked to my arsenal, grabbing the first pistol I saw and shoving it in the front of my pants. "Should be quick."