Chapter 56: Kitten's Tutelage
Rhys was genuinely confused now. If he couldn't figure out who that scruffy, arrogant-as-hell tabby cat was, he probably wouldn't be able to sleep tonight.
Here's what he knew: the cats in his dream represented women in his subconscious he was either close to, wanted to be close to, or had feelings for.
The pink cat was Sasha.
The green cat was Rebecca.
The white cat was Lucy.
It wasn't like Rhys was desperate. He'd spent five years in the Mox; he'd seen every kind of woman imaginable. The senseis back home were way more open than any merc, half of them being dolls. So, while Rhys hadn't... partaken, he'd definitely been around the block. Of course, he appreciated beautiful things.
But besides Sasha... his "bond" with Rebecca and Lucy wasn't that deep. Not deep enough to risk everything for them.
Sasha, though? She was different. They had literally walked through fire and death together. And Rhys wasn't an idiot. He could see Sasha's barely concealed affection for him.
She was a polite person, but her politeness was always wrapped in a layer of cold, impersonal distance. It was just like his initial assessment: she used a cute act to hide her dangerous skills. Politeness was her defense mechanism; acting cute was her camouflage.
But with him, that politeness was gone, replaced by an easy, casual physical contact. It seemed she didn't bother putting up her usual defenses around him. She let him see the person behind the mask.
And that's why this was so weird...
Why three... no, four cats?
Fuck, am I really that much of a player?
Who the hell is the arrogant tabby cat?!
Slap!
A pair of small hands gently tapped his cheeks, pulling him from his thoughts. Sasha's voice, now a low purr, followed. She was still sitting on his hips, leaning down so their faces were inches apart.
"Can you stop mumbling about cats?" she asked, a hint of a pout in her voice. "Seriously, Rhys, am I less interesting than a cat?"
Rhys came back to himself, blinking up at her. They were close, so close he could see the complex emotions swirling in her eyes.
"I rushed all the way back from Dogtown for you," she whispered. "Didn't even go home. Came straight here."
Seeing she finally had his full attention, she continued, "So, Rhys. Who is that pretty, white-haired woman named Lucy?"
"Kiwi's... protégé, I guess? She was brought in for the Badlands gig while you were gone," Rhys offered, choosing his words carefully.
"But Dorio said you brought her. And that you two are close. Rebecca said you introduced her to everyone, that you invited her to join the crew," Sasha pressed, her eyes searching his.
"Isn't it better to have more people on the team?" Rhys countered, then quickly added, "Besides, Kiwi was the one who found her. Rebecca can back me up. I didn't invite her."
...Even though he totally would have if Kiwi hadn't. But she didn't need to know that.
"Really?"
"Really. What would I gain by lying to you about this?"
Sasha let out a little "hmph," her hand idly tracing patterns on his chest. Her cat-like lips curled into their natural, faint smile. Her big eyes narrowed, and with her hairstyle and accessories, she looked more like a kitten than ever.
The vents on her cheeks began to hiss, releasing faint puffs of steam. She stared at him, and strangely, even though she wasn't jacked in or running any heavy chrome, she was starting to... overheat.
Rhys had no idea that Sasha's hyper-active brain was running a thousand different scenarios a second.
Like... her sister always told her, in this fast-food world, you shouldn't suppress your desires. Who knows when you'll flatline? Enjoy it while you can. Screw the rules, screw morality. Does following them make you happy?
Jesus, her sister's a cop. Why would a cop say that?
But that same idiot sister also said...
'Real love is different. When you really fall for someone, you start to worry. About everything. You worry they'll find out about your past, you regret things you've done... you get all tangled up inside.'
Did her sister think about all that when she met Bill? Or do you just get weird when you like someone?
After the Biotechnica incident, Sasha had done some research. She'd even learned an old-world term: misattribution of arousal. In high-stress, life-or-death situations, people mistake their adrenaline-fueled heart rate for attraction to the person they're with. Maybe that's why mercs hooked up so often? Maine and Dorio were a prime example. Dorio had told her once she fell for Maine the moment he burst in, zeroed the guy who'd ambushed her, and pulled her to her feet.
So, was this the same thing?
...Maybe.
But the "fast-food" part... that's what made her hesitate. How long had she even known Rhys? To just throw herself at him... wouldn't that make her seem cheap? If her sister found out, she'd never let her hear the end of it.
But... that white-haired girl... Lucy. That had sparked a sense of crisis.
From every angle—looks, personality, potential—Rhys was a preem investment. Even without feelings, a guy like him was a hot commodity in Night City. And the fact that he was almost pure organic... An organic... What woman on the street wouldn't want a taste of that? There was that one joytoy at Clouds, an organic with just a doll chip, but he cost a fortune, way out of their league. Their income only stretched to the cheap dolls in Kabuki.
And now Rhys was famous. Sleeping with a famous merc? That was bragging rights.
This guy... he was more in-demand than ever.
The overheating intensified. Sasha was a literal steam-head now, her face flushed. She just stared at Rhys, not saying a word. The atmosphere grew thick, charged. Rhys started to feel... weird.
"Sa—" he started to say.
Sasha cut him off, her decision made. Her small chest heaved as she took a deep breath. "You grew up in the Mox, right? At Lizzie's. So, Rhys... do you... do it often?"
"No," Rhys coughed, understanding exactly what she meant. "Susan... uh... she wouldn't let me before I was an adult. Said it would mess with my... development."
"So you... don't know how?"
"Uh... should I?" Rhys asked, his voice suddenly small.
"No..."
Sasha's shoulders twitched. She deftly unzipped her pink jacket, shrugging it off. Her hands moved to the bottom of her black netrunner suit, unfastening the clasps at her hips. With a smooth motion, she peeled the suit upwards, revealing the pale, smooth skin of her stomach and the curve of her breasts.
Rhys's mouth went dry.
Her voice, trembling slightly, whispered in his ear.
"If you don't know how... then... I guess I'll have to teach you."
"..."
"Well? Do you want to learn?" she asked, her body now radiating heat, white steam puffing from her cheeks.
"..."
"...Yes."