"Hellooo there, Night City! Your man, Stan, coming at you live! It's May 30th, 2071, and it's shaping up to be a lovely Saturday. A very special Saturday, if I do say so myself. Today marks the one year anniversary since I was given my own radio show by our corporate overloads. So let me give a very thankful shout-out to all my loyal fans. Sure been one hell of a year, and if rumors are to be believed the coming year will be just as crazy."

"Whispers out of Heywood speak of a woman with green synthskin that has earned the nickname 'El Diablo', or 'The Devil' for all the Spanish illiterate folks such as myself. Supposedly, this up-and-coming edgerunner murdered Maelstrom's head honcho by throwing him into a CHOOH2 fire, and has gained a reputation as one brutal bitch."

"Heywood residents probably remember that up until a month ago, Maelstrom was trying to push in on Valentino turf, but that all ended when the Valentinos took the fight to Watson and flatlined half of their borg rivals. That begs the question, have the Valentinos turned their back on the Lord? Did they summon this 'Heywood Devil' to help protect their territory? All I know is, if you spot this green lady lookin' at you, better turn and run unless you want to end up roasted."

"Where the fuck did she go?!"

"I don't know, man! You think we lost her?"

The two thugs sprinted through the dark alleyways of Japantown. Panic fueled adrenaline pushed then to keep running, even when it felt like their lungs would give out. Despite having ran for two miles, the winding nature of Night City's streets meant they were less than a mile from where their group was attacked. They came to a stop when they found a deserted back road with no lights.

"Let's steal from Davidson, you said," Mark spat at his friend. "We'll be rolling in eddies, you said."

"How was I supposed to know he would hire the fucking Devil?!" Sasha yelled back. "I'm still trying to figure out how that borg bitch found us."

"My guess is Eric blabbed while visiting Jig-Jig Street."

"I knew we should have dumped his gonk ass."

The two thugs fell silent, both trying to catch their breath while also remain hidden.

"Fuck, Sasha," Mark whispered. "Do you realize how dead we are?"

"It's only one merc. We can beat her."

"She chopped Kite's head off! And then she broke Billy's arm before using him as a meat shield!"

"You don't have to give me a recap," Sasha said. "I was there. She's too good to fight head on. We need to outsmart her. Ambush her or something."

"You mean how she ambushed us?"

"It's not an ambush if it's only one person with a machete."

"It is if they kill four people without taking a hit."

"Damn it, Mark! Do you want to survive this or not?" Sasha was quickly losing her patience and was ready to leave her partner in crime behind.

"Yes," Mark sighed. "What's the plan?"

"One of the alleys we passed would make for a good hiding spot. More cover, fairly crowded, but still dark. If we wait there, we can pop out when she walks by."

"And if she doesn't walk by?"

"Then it means we lost her and we're home free."

"Not much of a plan," Mark said. "But I guess it's something. You lead the way- AAUGH!" Mark was forced to the ground as an immense weight landed on top of him. His skull crashed into the pavement, blurring his senses. For a moment, all he could register was Sasha's screaming and the blood flowing from his forehead.

"Shit!" Sasha cried. "It's her!" She drew her pistol, but The Devil was too quick and hacked off her hand with a machete. Shock overcame Sasha at the sudden trauma. The Devil delivered a sharp jab into her jaw, causing all the pain to register at once.

Sasha collapsed to her knees, wailing as she cradling her gushing arm to her chest. A childlike giggle drew attention just enough to make her look up. The last thing Sasha witnessed was The Devil's freakish grin as a machete was driven deep into her brain.

Mark struggled to his feet, motivated at seeing his last friend get hacked apart like the others. He couldn't decide if he should run or fight. The Devil turned her single, red eye to him and dashed forward, tackling him to the ground as he was reaching for his sidearm.

"Just take the files, man," Mark begged, out of options and desperate to survive. "Take whatever you want. Just don't kill me."

The Devil tilled her head, the bloodlust fading from her single, red eye for a brief moment as she contemplated Mark's request. She shrugged and unhooked an External Cyberdeck Module from her belt. Sitting on Mark's chest, she pulled a cord out of the book-sized computer and jacked into the port on his neck.

WARNING: BREACH IMMINENT

Mark watched the warning flash across his optics as The Devil breached his firewall and began to poke around his cyberdeck. With clenched teeth, he listened to the woman sing in a foreign language as she typed away on her ECM. After a few minutes, she let out a celebratory laugh and slotted a shard into the ECM.

UPLOADING FILES…

UPLOAD COMPLETE

"You got the files," Mark said, his terror causing his voice to shake. "Now let me go."

"Hmm…" Again, The Devil tilted her head. Back and forth, she swayed as if contemplating her options. "Nope," she smiled before typing a command into her ECM.

WARNING! WARNING! RISK OF SYNAPTIC OVERLOAD!

"No, please! Let me go!" Mark struggled to escape, every fiber of his being fighting to survive. But it was no use. The Devil had him pinned.

WARNING! WARNING! OVERLOAD IMMINENT!

"Let me go! No! NOOO!" Mark screamed and begged, but all he received in response was her demonic laughter.

"HAHAHAHAHA!" That laugh was the last thing Mark heard before his cybernetics overloaded and fried his nervous system from the inside. With the pain of a thousand hot knives, his optics burned out and his brain was destroyed.

Isabel let out a heavy sigh once she finished her sub-par street food. She leaned against her tiny two-seat car and stared at the pink Jig-Jig Street sign down the road. V was starting to get job offers outside of Heywood, and somehow Padre had talked her into helping. Isabel didn't want to be there, but Padre seemed intent on using V to grow his fixer business. A direct consequence was that the Valentinos were forced to play nice with the green freak.

"Hey," V walked up to Isabel, breaking the Latina woman's train of thought.

"About fucking time," Isabel said. "I could be spending my Saturday night doing anything other than toting your freaky ass around. Respect my time, por favor."

"They ran," V shrugged. "I chased."

"Did you get the files?"

"Ta-da," V sang, holing up an unlabeled shard case.

"Good." Isabel pushed off from her car and started walking towards Jig-Jig Street. "Let's grab the eddies so we can go home."

The two women strolled under the bright pink sign. They did their best to ignore the assault of light and sounds of debauchery coming from every direction. Jig-Jig Street was one of the few places in Night City where anything goes. Every fantasy a person could have, no matter how perverted or demented, could be fulfilled on Jig-Jig Street. Most people were just looking to get laid and would hire a joytoy or buy a hardcore Brain Dance Simulation. But if you knew who to ask, you could fulfill your less than legal desires.

One of the side alleys held a pachinko parlor ran by Wakako Okada, the most prominent fixer in Japantown. The old lady had been in the game for decades. When she called, everyone put serious consideration into whatever she offered. Which is why so many people considered it strange she still insisted on operating out of her tiny pachinko parlor.

V and Isabel made their way to the back of the parlor, the echo of ball bearings blocking out any noise from outside. The guard standing at the back immediately stepped aside, allowing them to enter Wakako's office.

"Those are my terms, Mr. DeShawn," Wakako spoke into her phone. She glanced at her new guest before turning her attention back to the conversation. "I'll give you some time to think it over. Now if you excuse me, I must attend to other business." She hung up and place down the phone.

"V. I trust you have the files I asked for," Wakako said.

"Yep." V placed the shard case on the desk and slid it to the fixer. Wakako opened the case and slotted the shard into her desktop computer. The contents appeared on the monitor, and she skimmed through them.

"Everything appears to be in order. Mr. Davidson will be most pleased by your efforts." She reached into her desk and pulled out a stack of Eurodollars. "Your payment, in cash as promised. I'll leave it up to you and your friend on how to divide it."

"We're not friends," Isabel spat. "I'm just her ride." She stared daggers at V, who turned with a death glare of her own.

"I see," Wakako said, debating on whether she should comment on the sudden tension in the air. "It is for the best. The Metro is rarely safe at this hour."

V turned back to the fixer and picked up the money. "Gracias," she nodded and pocketed the eddies.

"I'll be in touch. And give Ibarra my regards."

V managed to maintain her composure until she was outside of the pachinko parlor. Once she was through the door she stormed forward, shoving Isabel aside as she went.

"The hell, V?!"

"Bitch!" V shouted over her shoulder, still walking away.

"Oversensitive freak!" Isabel shouted back. "Seriously, what's your problem?"

"My problem?" V stopped dead in her tracks. She turned and looked Isabel dead in the eyes. "You're the hard ass. You fuss. Always. Why?"

"Your nickname is 'El Diablo'. I don't want to be associated with that. Can you blame me?"

V didn't respond right away. She walked up to the Valentino, narrowing her large eye as she studied Isabel.

"Hate me?" she finally asked.

"Sì," Isabel said. "I do hate you."

"Why?"

"Because…" Isabel paused. She looked down, trying to compose herself. She didn't feel like having a breakdown on Jig-Jig Street like some heartbroken housewife. "Diego is dead, V." She looked back at V, a fresh fury building up inside her. "If it wasn't for you and Jackie, he might still be alive."

V rolled her eye and started walking back to the car.

"You know I'm right," Isabel said, walking next to the edgerunner.

"No."

"Yes."

"Why help?" V asked.

"I need the eddies, just like everyone else."

The two women stopped talking for the rest of the way back to the car. V paid Isabel her agreed upon cut and they left for Heywood. The silence in the car was palpable. Isabel didn't bother to turn on the radio, and V didn't ask her to turn it on. The only noise was the quiet buzz of the car engine, which made the lack of sound more noticeable. V eventually broke and spoke up.

"Didn't ask."

"What?" Isabel asked, not catching what V said.

"Didn't ask. Being saved."

"Jackie asked. He's the one who managed to gather an army in just a few hours," Isabel said.

"I know. Didn't have to say yes."

"Being a Valentino means having honor, standing by your hermanos. When a fellow member asks for help, you help. I just wish-," Isabel paused, trying to focus on the road. But that day kept replaying in her mind. "Jackie was reckless. He was willing to drag the entire gang into the pits of hell to save your sorry ass."

"Oh," V said, unable to think of any appropriate words.

"That's it? Just 'oh'?"

"Didn't know. The honor thing," V whispered.

"Well, now you do."

"You hate Jackie. Why hate me?"

"Jackie left the Valentinos because of you! He wants to become a 'Night City Legend' with his new hermana!" Isabel was begun shouting. Her eyes were still forward, but she was starting to cry as she vented her frustrations. "The four of us were el major amigos! Now Diego is dead, Jackie up and bailed, and David…" Again, Isabel paused, this time taking a moment to wipe her eyes. "Poor David. I'm not sure if he'll ever get over Diego. I lost my amigos, my friends, and it's all your fault."

V let out a soft sigh as she sank in her seat. Pulling her hood low over her eye, she decided against responding to Isabel's rant. She almost apologized, but stopped at the last moment. She wasn't sure how she was at fault in this situation. She was still new to the whole 'friends' thing. What Isabel was describing went far beyond her understanding of emotions and companionship. She would have to ask Jackie and Mama about it later.

"Hey," V said as she entered the Welles' family home.

"Hey, V!" Jackie greeted, setting his book aside. "Job go well?"

"Yes." V walked into the kitchen and placed half of her eddies on the counter. "Drink?"

"Sure," Jackie shouted. "I should still have a NiCola in the fridge."

A few seconds later, V was plopping herself on the couch next to Jackie. She handed him his soda before opening her beer.

"Anything lined up for tomorrow?" Jackie asked.

"Finish the table." V swung her leg out into the empty space before them to emphasize her point. "Late shift at El Coyote."

"I still can't believe you actually agreed to work there."

"Lesson two. Help people," V said before taking a large gulp of her drink.

"Hopefully, Vik will give me the all clear this week. Then I can start helping you with your jobs." Jackie poked the side of V's head to emphasis his point. She swatted his hand away, but couldn't help but smile.

"And shave." V tugged in Jackie's short yet unruly beard, earning a swat of her own. Due to getting shot in the chest, he wasn't allowed to shave, among other thing, until Vik took him off all the meds.

"Sì, that too," Jackie chuckled. "What was it like working for Wakako?"

"Simple. Professional."

"Makes sense for someone her age," Jackie nodded. "Did you ask about her husbands?"

"No?" V gave him a sideways glance, not sure if she wanted to know where that question came from.

"Story goes; Wakako Okada is currently married to her fifth husband. The first four all died from either 'natural causes' or 'tragic accidents'." Jackie made sure do air quotes to convey the ridiculousness of the whole thing.

"Oh, grop," V laughed, nearly choking on her beer. "Really?"

"According to rumors. I don't know anyone who was brave enough to ask her themselves."

"Nope," V shook her head. "Not me."

"Couldn't have said it better myself."

A calm silence grew between the two friends. They sipped on their respective drinks. Jackie went back to reading his book while V leaned back with her eyes closed. She was living the simple life now. Or as simple as you can get when your specialty is murder. She was living small in the big city, working odd jobs to make ends meet.

It all felt so foreign to her. V felt like a new person, so much so that she was no longer thought of herself as Lord Dominator. She was V, the Heywood Devil. She wasn't as mean as Dominator, but could be even more brutal if the situation called for it. She didn't want to stay there forever, but it worked for the time being. A fresh start with Jackie and Mama Welles.

But she couldn't forget her past life, or ignore how it had seeped into her new one. In less than two months, she had made several enemies in Night City. Maelstrom was down for the count, but that was temporary. According to Jackie, they were the oldest gang in Night City, and had existed in multiple forms. At some point, they would want payback. Her experience with the Tyger Claws was limited to a single job, but she left those three thugs in a sorry state. Given their influence in Kabuki and Japantown, V was bound to have another run in with the gang at some point. She needed to be careful not to piss off too many of them.

And then there were the Valentinos…

The only reason she wasn't dead was because Padre wanted her alive. If it wasn't for the balding fixer, one of the Latino thugs would have surely shot her in the back of the head by now. Not all of the Valentinos hated her, just some of them. Most were relatively indifferent. But some was enough to cause problems. V needed to rebuild bridges and gain allies, should things ever go awry again. And given her recent experiences with things going wrong, it most certainly would at some point.

"Isabel hates us," V mumbled. Jackie didn't respond right away, but she could feel his uneasiness at the edges of her mind.

"You probably misinterpreted her," Jackie said.

"No. She hates us."

"She hates you."

"Jackie." V had to hold herself back from shouting. She turned to Jackie, giving him a stern look in the eye. "I asked. Isabel hates us."

"Did… she say why?"

"Maelstrom fight. Diego. You leaving."

"Leaving?" Jackie scrunched his eyebrows. "The hell is that supposed to mean?"

"You left Valentinos. Not amigos or something."

"¿De eso se trata esto?" Jackie mumbled, rubbing his face in frustration. "She's hurting. I'll talk to her and try to smooth things out."

"Good," V said. She patted Jackie's leg before standing up and stretching. "Shower time."

"I'll toss the cans," Jackie said. "And try to keep it short."

"Yea, yea," V waved off his concern. She stopped as a final thought crossed her mind. "Night City Legends?"

"Uhhh… I-I mean, yea. Of fucking course," Jackie spoke. "The two of us, w-we'd rule this city. We'd be kings of the Afterlife." He did his best to sound convincing, but his blush and stuttering gave away his faux confidence. It was obvious he hadn't thought of a way to bring this up to V.

V raised an eyebrow at Jackie, reaching out into his emotions. She was skeptical to say the least, but he was being genuine. Underneath all the uncertainty, embarrassment, and macho bravado, was a real desire. Jackie wanted to become the greatest edgerunner in Night City, and he wanted to do it with her. She couldn't be sure of his motivations, but she had a couple guesses.

V smiled before turning away and entering the bathroom.

V sat in Jackie's garage behind El Coyote Cojo. He had been renting one of the many back alley storage units for his motorcycle and various items that had no real place at home. Things like his dumbbells, punching bag, pin-up posters, and tools. V needed a place to put the broken table back together, so he let her borrow the space.

After a month of trading favors for supplies, V's project was nearly complete. No amount of glue would have put the table back together, so she got creative. V instead welded together a wire frame. The various chunks of wood were then either screwed or strapped to the frame. To make it an actually usable table, the top was filled with a clear epoxy resin that would show off the wood inside. The only thing left was to sand down and polish the epoxy to leave it smooth and nearly invisible.

…"Did I do something wrong?"…

"Uh oh," V mumbled. She was about halfway done with sanding when she felt a wave of depression poking at her mind. Jackie was approaching, and something had him down. That alone had her on alert, as Jackie was almost always upbeat unless things were serious. She went back to sanding as to avoid any awkward staring.

"Hey," Jackie said, sitting on his weight bench.

"Hey," V responded, not looking up from her sanding. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing. Why you ask?"

V dropped her sandpaper and gave Jackie a look of unamused annoyance, as if daring him to lie again.

"What?" Jackie asked.

She rolled her eye as she stood up and stepped over to him. "Felt it." V tapped her temple before poking Jackie in the forehead with considerable force.

"Ow! Seriously?"

"Yes. Say it. What's wrong?"

"Fine," Jackie sighed, "siempre hurgando alrededor de mi cabeza." He took a deep breath through his nose and looked V in the eye. "Misty broke up with me. Happy?"

"Oh?" V raised an eyebrow at him. She didn't know much about Misty other than that she rented from Vik and occasionally helped the ripperdoc. Jackie had mentioned their relationship in passing, but the idea of them dating never made sense in her head. "Why?"

"Said she wasn't ready for a committed relationship. She wants to be just friends and focus on her own life for a while. Mentioned something about medical training."

"How long?" V asked. "You and Misty?"

"About three months."

"That's it?"

"It meant something!" Jackie yelled, catching V off-guard. He immediately pulled back, getting his emotions under control. "Lo siento. Didn't mean to yell."

"Friends long time?"

"Sì. We grew up on the same street. Unlike most people from Heywood, Misty was always kind. There's not a single bad bone in her body, unlike us," Jackie smiled. "Guess I've always had a crush on her."

The garage was quiet, neither Jackie nor V knowing what to say. As much as she hated it, all of Jackie's emotions had actually gotten to V. She didn't want to do anything except mope on the couch while eating cake. He really was hurting. She needed to help him, even if it was a temporary fix.

"Here," V said, handing a spare piece of sandpaper to Jackie.

"What? I'm supposes to help you with the table now?" Jackie asked accusingly.

"Yep," V smiled. "Distraction."

"Ok," Jackie nodded. "I could use a decent distraction."

After finishing the table, Jackie and V carried it back home. This turned out to be more complicated than expected. For starters, V failed to take in to consideration the weight of the metal. What used to be 35 lbs. of wood at most was now well over 100 lbs. of metal, wood, and clear epoxy. And because Mama Welles had the car, they had to carry it three city blocks to the house. Everyone they past stopped and watched Jackie Welles and the Heywood Devil bicker while carrying a metal coffee table around. A dead body would have been less conspicuous.

The second problem they encountered was getting it through the door. The table was now ever so slightly wider than the door, meaning they couldn't carry it straight in. They continued to bicker before deciding to turn it sideways to fit through the door.

"Left. No, my left… OTHER LEFT!"

"Right, V! Other left is my right!"

"Sorry! Your right. My left."

Scurrying inside, Jackie and V place the table down in its original spot between the couches. With sore hands and tired arms, the duo plopped down on separate couches.

"Why is moving furniture always the worst," Jackie groaned.

"Metal bad idea," V sighed in response.

"On the bright side, you could throw this thing off a megablock roof and it would probably survive."

An hour later, Mama Welles came home from the grocery store. V started putting everything away while Jackie helped Mama make lunch. The entire time, V was apprehensive about Mama's reaction to the table. Yes, she fixed it, technically. But Mama had proven to be a tough woman when she wanted to be, and V didn't want to screw up the civility they had built between them. Before she knew it, the quesadillas were done and the three of them were sitting around the table with lunch.

"I see you finally fixed the table," Mama said before any of them had a chance to take a bite.

"Uh… yep," V responded.

"It's hideous." Mama paused before smiling at V. "But I love it all the same. Thank you, V."

In that moment, V felt a new sense of pride. Not the kind you get from reaching the top of a villain leaderboard. This was new. She didn't know if it was from the way Mama smiled at her or the sincerity of her thanks, but something was making V's heart all warm and fuzzy. And she couldn't help but smile back as she took a bite of quesadilla. For the first time, she felt like she was part of a family. And like with any family, the goofy brother had to ruin the moment.

"Good, because I am not moving this monstrosity again," Jackie spoke with a tinge of annoyance in his voice.

"Heeeey," V whined. For a moment, she forgot she was sitting next to Mama and flicked off Jackie. He stuck his tongue out at her, causing her to pout.

"That's enough, you two," Mama said, though her smile was still present in her tone.

"A Whiskey Sour. Remember how to make it?" Pepe asked V.

"Two ounces bourbon, one ounce syrup, one ounce… um… yellow things..."

"Lemon juice," Pepe chuckled. "Those are called lemons."

"Right. Lemon juice," V nodded. She measured out the ingredients into a metal cup with a jigger. "One whole ice, one crushed iced." She placed a large ice cube into a second cup then cracked a second cube into the cup with a bar spoon. "And shake." She poured the mix from the first cup into the second cup and forced them together before shaking the mix vigorously. After a couple seconds, the cups had a white frost on the outside, and V smacked the side to separate them.

"Serve over ice," V continued, putting small ice cubes into a glass and straining the alcoholic mix into it. "Ta-da."

"You forgot the cherries," Pepe said.

"Dah, grop," V pouted. She quickly corrected her mistake, skewering three cherries on a plastic toothpick and placing them on top of the drink. "Whiskey Sour." She placed the glass on the bar counter in front of a man in an old suit.

"Thank you," he nodded. "Never thought I'd be served by Satan herself." The man raised the glass in thanks before taking a large gulp of the tart cocktail.

"Not bad, hermana," Pepe said, patting the green woman's shoulder. "With a little practice, you'll be tossing out drinks like a pro barkeep."

"Hermana?" V raised an eyebrow at the man.

"It means sister. As far as I'm concerned, you're part of the Heywood family now."

V grinned at Pepe, but her smile quickly fell.

…I didn't want him to die…

"Uh oh," V said, turning her attention to the main doors.

"What is it?" Pepe asked, confused by V's sudden change in mood.

"Irse a la chingada! No tengo nada que decirte!" As if on cue, Isabel came stomping into the bar looking like she was ready to stab the next person who glanced at her wrong.

"Izzy, come on," Jackie said, following Isabel into the bar.

"That," V whispered to Pepe.

"The hell is she doing here?" Isabel accused Pepe as she stepped up to the counter.

"I help now," V said before Pepe could respond. "Ask Mama."

"Maldito cristo," Isabel mumbled. "Whatever. Pepe, I'll have a rum por favor."

V was about to protest, but stopped when she felt Pepe's metal hand on her arm.

"I got this. You can take ten," he said, receiving a nod from V.

V went out the back into the alley with the storage units. At the far end was a basketball court where some kids were playing. She tried to focus on their game, on early summer heat, on the violent ambience of Night City. V tried to focus on anything but the bombardment of negative emotions coming from Jackie. A month ago, she had decided to embrace the bond, but now she wanted it to stop. Anytime Jackie felt a strong emotion or had a powerful thought, she felt it, too.

…I'm sorry, Isabel…

…We can still be friends…

…She's not evil, she's my hermana…

That last one caught V off guard. Of course she was evil. Half the people in Night City could be described as evil, and you would be hard pressed to find anyone who would disagree. She might not be Lord Dominator anymore, but she was still a cold blooded killer. El Diablo always killed her target and anyone who got in her way. No mercy. She was still a greedy, genocidal maniac, only difference was she was now stuck on a planet ran by greedy, genocidal maniacs.

That begged the question of why didn't Jackie see her as evil. Was because he hadn't seen her at work, yet? V had made a point to behave when she wasn't doing a merc job. Edgerunner work was already attracting too much attention, and she didn't want to give law enforcement a reason to come after her.

Maybe Jackie was just desensitized to V's level of violence. She would happily drown a baby just to watch is squirm, but she never dragged out the pain. Some villains would torture prisoners for hours or even days before killing them, and she already experienced something similar at Maelstrom's hand. Perhaps her evil was manageable compared to what the worst Earthlings could dish out.

Still, V didn't like being thought of as 'not evil'. It made her feel fake. And even Maelstrom couldn't compare to what Lord Dominator had done.

"Maybe I should tell Jackie the truth," V sighed. After all the man had done for her, he deserved to know. She just needed to figure out how to tell him without him freaking out. She wasn't about to risk her first and only true friendship over this. Adding it to her ever growing to-do list, V checked the time on her holophone. Her ten minutes were up.

Stepping back inside, she noticed that Jackie's thoughts had stopped for a moment. It didn't take long to figure out why. Isabel was gone, and Jackie was sitting at a table alone. Not far from him was a shattered glass being swept up by one of the waiters. The most haunting thing was the dead stare on Jackie's face. V stepped behind the main counter and called him over.

"Hey, V," he mumbled. "Sorry you had to see that."

"Rough day?"

"I already told you about mi novia breaking up with me, and now one of my oldest amigas hates me. So yes, it has been a rough day."

"Drink," V said. "On me."

"I can't drink until I'm off the meds, you know that."

"No alcohol, just drink," V insisted. For the first time in her life, she was feeling some amount of sympathy for someone. She wanted to help comfort Jackie.

"Alright then… um…" Jackie shrugged, unable to decide. "I guess… I'll take a ginger beer. And add some lime."

"Lime. The green things?"

"Yes. The green ones are limes," Jackie smiled. He watched his alien friend put some ice and lime juice in a glass before opening the soda bottle. She poured the ginger beer in and placed the glass before him. "Gracias."

"Isabel will come around," V said.

"What makes you say that?" Jackie asked as he took a sip of his drink.

"Don't know," V shrugged. "Just thinking. Something a dork once said."

"I hope you don't mean me."

"No. Someone short. Before Earth." V left Jackie with his drink while she tended to other orders. It was slow like most late Sunday nights. Pepe would be leaving soon, as he had to work the following day. It would be just V and the one waiter she couldn't remember the name of.

"Hey barkeep," Jackie said. "May I have another?"

"No," V smiled. "Go home. Sleep."

"Are you actually cutting me off right now?"

V didn't say anything. Instead, she pulled out her holophone and showed Jackie the time. 1:54 AM.

"Point taken," Jackie sighed. "Good luck, chica. Try not to burn the place down before sunrise."