In the end, only Leo—who never drank—and Lucy—who only sipped lightly—remained standing. As the last two who were still sober, Leo volunteered to take V and Lucy home.
Originally, he had planned to test out the new motorcycle they had bought for him, to see if it really lived up to the hype. But since the bike couldn't safely seat three people—especially when one of them was already out cold—he decided to send the motorcycle back to his apartment and drive his SUV instead.
He opened both the windows and the sunroof so Lucy and V would feel more comfortable, then cruised first to her apartment in Japantown. After Lucy headed upstairs, he parked in the megabuilding lot in Little China and carried a very drunk V into the elevator.
The elevator's TV was playing Tonight's Talk. The guest that evening was Jefferson Peralez, who had become a hot topic since the Redwood Psychiatric Hospital incident. He faced the camera without the slightest hint of nervousness, speaking eloquently and revealing that, apart from those who had been "misdiagnosed" and were now reunited with their families, the patients who truly needed care had been transferred to a medical center. He also announced a crowdfunding campaign, urging citizens to donate to help these psychiatric patients. Jefferson and his wife, Elizabeth, had each taken the lead with a pledge of one million eurodollars.
Leo smiled to himself. No doubt this was another one of Elizabeth's ideas—she was the kind of calculating woman who could turn burdens that most people would avoid at all costs into political capital for Jefferson. The old saying held true: behind every successful man stood a woman who quietly supported him. Without Elizabeth's shrewd assistance, Jefferson would likely still be just another broke, unremarkable councilman in City Hall, an honest councilman, but still nowhere near as confident and influential as he was now.
Still, Leo didn't mind. In the adult world, nothing was simple. It wasn't purely a matter of black or white. Yes, Elizabeth was using those vulnerable psychiatric patients. And yes, Jefferson—the idealist—wasn't so naive either. But in an era where everything was falling apart—especially in a city that was even worse—they were doing more than most. At least their so-called "publicity stunt" was genuinely helping people who needed it, which already put them ahead of 95% of the city's upper crust.
Ding.
The elevator doors slid open. Using V's key, Leo opened the door to her apartment, nudged it shut with his foot, and gently laid her on the bed. He took off her shoes, wiped a thin layer of sweat from his forehead, and glanced at V, who smelled strongly of both alcohol and her natural scent.
He couldn't help wondering: was alcohol really that enjoyable?
In both his past life and this one, Leo had never touched a drop. He didn't smoke either. No matter who tried to convince him, it was a line he didn't cross. If someone felt you had to drink to be considered a friend, well, then that friendship simply wasn't worth it.
He poured a glass of water and left it on V's nightstand. He had heard that drunk people often woke up parched in the middle of the night, and this way she could just reach for it. After a moment's thought, he also set a small trash bin by the bed—just in case. It would be better for her to throw up there than on the floor, saving her a messy cleanup the next day.
Certain he hadn't forgotten anything, Leo prepared to leave. Suddenly, he felt someone tug on his clothes. Startled, he turned to see V kneeling on the bed, looking at him. At some point, she had woken up enough to sit upright. Her eyes were hazy, unfocused, but still locked onto him.
Before he could say anything, she leaned forward, draping her arms over his shoulders and pressing herself against his back in a loose, sleepy hug. Her warmth sank into him, her breath soft against his neck.
"Don't go," she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper.
Leo's hands hovered over hers for a moment before gently holding them in place.
"...All right, I won't."
He sat on the edge of the bed, and V didn't move—just stayed wrapped around him, her arms slackening ever so slightly as exhaustion took over. He could feel her weight shifting, her hold becoming looser, and when he turned his head slightly, he noticed her eyelids fluttering.
Slowly, her grip melted, her body tilting, and before she could completely slide off, Leo caught her. She had finally passed out, her head resting against his shoulder.
With a soft sigh, he adjusted her in his arms, brushing a few strands of hair away from her face.
"…You're really something, you know that?" he murmured, but she was too far gone to hear.
Smiling just a little, Leo laid her down properly and pulled the blanket over her. He left the lights off—what little glow there was came from the neon ads outside, flickering around the clock. In the dimness, V's earlier words echoed in his mind, mingling with the sweet, boozy scent rising from her skin. A sudden impulse shot through him, urging him to do something…
...
In the bathroom, Leo balanced upside down—not on both hands, but on the fingertips of his right hand alone, supporting his entire body weight.
"Nine hundred ninety-seven… nine hundred ninety-eight… nine hundred ninety-nine… one thousand!"
He finished and dropped back onto his feet, grabbing a towel to wipe off his sweat. Then, with a subtle shift in his senses, he picked up a faint sound of someone outside the apartment door. The footsteps halted right there, then stopped completely.
Leo frowned. What was going on? A thief? A burglar?
By ordinary standards, V's apartment was pretty decent, and there were even a few NCPD officers living in the same megabuilding. Break-ins were far less common here than in other parts of Night City, though "less common" didn't mean impossible. Maybe the intruder thought nobody was home because the lights were out?
If that was the case, Leo planned to give them a little surprise—to teach them you didn't just waltz into the wrong place at the wrong time. He picked up his large-caliber revolver and crept silently to the front door. In one swift move, he yanked it open and pressed the barrel under the intruder's chin.
Two seconds later, he lowered his gun.
"What are you doing here? Couldn't sleep?"
Standing outside the door was Lucy.
"Want to come in? Actually… no. Let's go out."
Leo stepped into the hallway and locked up behind him. The overhead lighting flickered and crackled, casting a horror-movie vibe over everything.
"Can't sleep? Or is something on your mind?"
Lucy kept her hands behind her back and her head down, short white hair covering her face. She seemed subdued, obviously worried about something. Gently placing a hand on her right shoulder, Leo said, "Come with me—I'll take you somewhere."
…
Ding.
The maintenance elevator doors opened.
"What is this place…?" Lucy's eyes widened as she looked around curiously.
"The rooftop of Megabuilding H10. There aren't many taller buildings in Night City. I've never actually been up here before, but I had a feeling it'd be worth seeing. Not bad, right?"
Leo stepped out of the maintenance elevator and was instantly greeted by a gust of wind. He handled it fine, but Lucy shivered and sneezed. "It's pretty chilly up here. Wait a sec."
He slipped off his coat and draped it over Lucy's shoulders. "Better?"
She shook her head in reply—meaning she wasn't cold anymore—and felt the residual warmth still clinging to his jacket. Then she turned to look at Leo again.