Special thanks to:
doenerkint, author of Hiding and Masking
Tahsky
DarknessEnthroned author of A Cadmean Victory Remastered.
Without their help, you'd likely be unable to make sense of my ramblings
Veela
Desamparados Cathedral, Vista del Rey, Heywood, Night City
22:29
Shards of concrete and puffs of stone dust filled the air, but the bullets weren't able to penetrate deep enough to harm either Harry or V.
A rattling sound came as Harry took a breath, one of the bullets had damaged his mask. He pulled it off and tossed it aside.
It landed in the open and was immediately hit with a shot. Harry let out an impressed whistle.
"Romano, was it?" he called out in greeting, all while scanning the area around him in search of his rifle. He suppressed a groan when he found it, or rather what was left of it. The remains of the bolt assembly lay in pieces around the useless firearm.
Before he could voice his annoyance, a harsh scraping sound of metal on stone accompanied a handgun that slid to him. The fancy motif etchings and gold trim clearly identified it as having belonged to a Valentino's member.
He grabbed it and shot V a grateful look.
"Keep him occupied, Blondie's on her way, and she's full of surprises," instructed Hermione through their comms. Harry didn't respond other than a quick acknowledgement.
Romano was clearly agitated, and he knew just how to best get under his skin.
"I'm sorry about the chica bitch in the red dress, it's nothing personal," he said. "We had a bit of a workplace disagreement."
"Shut the fuck up!" A bang was followed by a snap of the air as the bullet flew close enough over his cover that he could feel his hair being tousled by the wind.
"It's personal to me, and her name was Anna," growled Romano. "I'll be sending you after her soon enough."
"I've got a different idea. How about you holster that rifle and walk away, unless you plan on standing here all night?"
"Ha! There's a difference between you and me, merc" said Romano, coldly. "I've got all the time in the world. You don't."
"Who's this choom?" cut in V. "And who's Anna? This isn't some love triangle shit, is it?"
"I don't think so," laughed Harry. "And, Romano, each to his own, but the nails, not a fan. They sting like a bitch."
"Wait!" V burst out laughing. "Is that who scratched you? What did I tell you about sticking your dick in crazy? First the vampire chick, and now this! I think the lady in the chair and I need to stage an intervention!"
"You're not helping…"
Their little chat pissed Romano off, something fierce. "Would you shut the fuck up and die already?!" He screamed at them.
"So noisy," came a scathing voice from behind the furious man. His eyes widened in shock as he felt the cold barrel of a gun touch the back of his head. There was no time for him to move, or scream in fear or rage.
A squeezed trigger and an echoing crack of a handgun firing ended his life.
Romano's body fell forward; his face a bloody ruined mess, destroyed by the bullet which ripped through his skull and broke through between his brow. He hit the ground with a silencing thump.
"Are you two going to keep sitting zhere?"
Harry and V were gaping at her from their spots across the large room. The first to break the silence was Harry, who laughed heartily as he stood.
"You're late," she accused him coldly while rubbing her temple.
He walked towards Fleur while his laughter slowed to a chuckle, mostly a result of the glare she was giving him. While she looked a far cry from her usual composed, elegant self, she somehow still managed to maintain her regal air, standing there in a bloodied red dress, arms crossed with a gun held loosely in one hand.
Weird as it may be to most, Harry thought she looked stunning. Fleur must have seen something in his eyes, coupled with the adrenaline of the intense situation. As soon as he was within arm's reach of her, she grabbed his shirt with a tight grip and pulled him down.
When he cupped her cheek firmly and returned the smouldering kiss. She melted into it, her free hand found its way into his hair and gripped it hard enough that it pulled at the roots.
Harry grinned against her lips before separating right as V's voice cut into the sexual tension.
"Hmm, so this is Fleur? Call me impressed." The last part was addressed to Harry.
"Fleur, this is V," he chuckled as he introduced the bluenette in the yellow jacket who was twirling one of her blades. While they measured each other with their eyes, he tucked the handgun into the back of his pants and picked up Romano's rifle, tugging it free from his slackened hold.
"Enchantée," said Fleur to V in greeting before turning to head back in the direction she'd come from. "We should go. I 'ave a bone to pick wizh Felix."
"About that…" Interrupted Hermione. "I've lost him. He's not on any of the feeds."
"Street level?" asked Harry.
"Nothing…"
"Putain! Fils de Pute!" snapped Fleur in frustration.
"Oh oh, language," commented V amusedly, earning a glare from the statuesque blonde.
"Harry, have a look at this." Hermione forwarded him a schematic. "I've been referencing security plans that I found on their system. It's contradictory to the data we received from Ibarra."
He glanced to the side to make sure V was covering the entrance before he delved into the information mentally. It didn't take long for him to come to the same conclusion that she had. Furious, he raised his contact list and called Sebastian Ibarra, there was no way the old man would have made the mistake.
The fixer didn't take long to answer. Harry made sure to let the other's listen in.
"Green, I take it everything is going well?" The ex-Valentino greeted with his old, weathered voice.
"Cut the small talk, Padre, the info was dirty."
There was silence on the line before Ibarra answered.
"…You must understand—"
"Save it," Harry cut him off. "I didn't pay for halves Ibarra. Consider this an end to our working relationship."
"Now, Green, is that really necessary?"
"Trust is important between a fixer and a merc, Ibarra. You knew what you were doing."
Ibarra sighed. "I understand."
"Hey Ibarra. It's V, I'm disappointed," she cut in right as the call was ending. It was enough to let him know he'd just lost the services of two of Night City's best, if not more if the news spread. In their line of work, lies and subversions cost lives.
Harry looked at V questioningly. It was reasonable for him to cut ties with Ibarra, but it wasn't V who was screwed over. Ibarra had no reason to believe she was even present.
"I recently got fucked over by Dexter DeShawn, and I've had to deal with Rogue. I don't really have any patience for any more fixer bullshit these days."
Harry met Fleur's eyes. The blonde had waited patiently without interrupting while he'd conversed. He saw the anger simmering in her eyes, the fury that brewed behind those deep blues. She wanted her pound of flesh – and Felix's head.
"We should leave, before any more Valentino's show, Hermione'll scrub their systems."
"And Felix?" asked Fleur testily.
"We'll find him," he promised, and they would. It's near impossible to hide from a talented Netrunner in such heavily surveillanced streets, doing so required a skillset that he doubted Felix had. "But for now, we need to leave."
Fleur grit her jaw, the temptation to argue was there in the stiffened shoulders. She was one bad call away from throwing caution to the wind and trying to pursue the piece of shit blindly. But in the end reason won.
"D'accord," she sighed.
Megabuilding H10, Little China, Watson, Night City
23:07
It really said something about Night City, when three armed people could walk into a building, two of whom with bloody clothing, and barely garner anything more than a curious glance. Even the two NCPD officers sitting at Kang's food stall in the building's foyer gave them nothing more than a 'not my problem' shrug.
Harry leaned against the wall of the elevator compartment, mentally drowning out the irritating commercials that showcased from the multitude of displays that surrounded them.
"This is me," said V as they came to a stop. The heavy industrial grade compartment's doors slid open with the sound of metal on rails.
V yawned deeply as she stepped out. "See ya in the morning. I need my fucking bed. Oh, and let me know when you're going after that Felix choom. I'm already involved and kinda want to see it through to the end."
Harry put his arm out to stop the elevator doors from closing and nodded. "Thanks again, V. I owe you one, if you need anything—"
"I know who to call—You know, yeah, sure, I could use a hand with something. I'll send you the deets," said V, cutting him off.
"I could 'elp?" offered Fleur, leaning against the back of the elevator with her hands on the railings. "It is me who owes you zhe debt."
V grinned. "I wouldn't mind seeing your pretty face again."
She winked at Harry who mouthed an amused 'fuck off' which vanished behind the elevator doors.
Now that V was on her own, an apparition that only she could see materialised in her field of view. The rockstar anarchist figure of Johnny Silverhand flickered as he appeared in various locations. V lamented the tenant in her head, she wasn't kidding when she told Harry that Dexter DeShawn had fucked her over. That damn gig had resulted in her having to share her headspace.
"I don't like it." said Johnny lighting up a smoke.
"You don't have to like it, 'besides, I haven't fully decided whether I want to drag them into my mess."
"Hmm," He held the cigarette delicately between the silver-steel fingers of his cybernetic arm. "This Harry, or Green, or whatever the fuck his name is, I can get behind. He's one of us."
He took another drag and blew the smoke out before pointing at V with the cigarette. "But some preppy corpo bitch? She's got a tight ass, I'll give you that. But it's them you've gotta watch out for. It's when you've got your tongue up her pussy that she'll put a gun to your head."
"Not every corpo's waiting to put a knife in your back," said V with an annoyed sigh following her grimace.
"You're right," the apparition shrugged, and flicked away his cigarette. "Most of 'em don't have the balls to do it themselves."
…
Harry let Fleur into his apartment, the door slid shut behind him with a satisfying hiss. The lights turned on automatically, illuminating a decently sized living area. A display screen had been left playing with the sound muted. He removed his jacket and dropped it on a chair.
"Shower," said Fleur, running her fingers through her hair.
Harry was busy unloading his gun but paused to point at a sliding door in the corner. "Through there."
He placed the firearm on a desk near the door where his computer was and looked up to find Fleur had stopped at the bathroom door, a hand against the frame to keep it from sliding shut.
"Tu ne viens pas?" she gazed at him casually but the intensity in her eyes betrayed her desire.
He didn't need his implants to translate.
…
It was to the sharp morning sunlight that Harry woke. He covered his eyes with the palm of his hand.
"Shutters," he groaned, and the blinds lowered over the wall of glass, blocking out the sun and the view of the city.
A weight shifted on his chest and the platinum-blonde hair which belonged to the stunning woman tickled him. The covers had slipped off of them, revealing her perfect skin. The smooth contours of her back which led down to the curve of her tight but full ass and the leg which was draped across his own.
Harry noticed the goosebumps dusting her arm, so he pulled the covers back up.
"Merci," she mumbled, her breath lightly brushing his skin.
He tucked his left hand behind his head and rested on it.
"Fleur?"
"Hm?"
"Last night. I didn't see the case?"
She stiffened, an indication that she was now fully awake.
"I'm surprised it took you until now to ask."
"I was distracted."
Fleur scoffed softly as she raised herself up and straddled him. The covers slipped from her shoulders and pooled behind her on his legs. He regretted closing the shutters as he gazed upon her.
"Are you not distracted now?" she teased, with a soft breathless laugh that drew his eyes to the way her breasts jiggled. The way he stiffened beneath her gave her a pleasurable thrill.
Not one to be passive, he ran his free hand up her thigh until he held her tight ass in a firm grip, pulling her down harder against him.
"What was inside?"
"Ah, what was zhe phrase? Ask no questions—"
"Hear no lies." He sat up, forcing her to grab a hold of his shoulders with a yelp. "I think I deserve to bend the rules. I did come after you, after all."
"Hmm," Fleur adjusted her position, grinding her dampening pussy over the underside of his cock which was now sandwiched between their bodies.
She leaned forward to whisper into his ear, pressing her hard nipples against his chest. "You did come for me, zis is true, and 'Ermione already knows anyway." She leaned back again to look him in the eyes. "It will be easier to show you. Try to resist, 'Arry."
The light in her eyes changed, it made it difficult for him to break contact, it was as if the world melted away and all he could see was those deep blues. She opened her mouth to speak, it was as if her voice sounded from all around him, and even from within him. Her words in that moment were everything.
"Fuck me," she whispered breathlessly, and he felt his body respond to her command before every fibre of his being demanded he resist. He stiffened abruptly, hard enough that it was painful, as if an electric shock had caused his muscles to lock-up.
For a moment he couldn't breathe, his lungs just stopped. He gasped and fell forward, holding onto her to catch himself. Even more terrifying was that his implants never registered an intrusion.
She caught him and he could hear the admiration in her words when she next spoke. "I'm impressed."
"Wha—"
"You resisted," Fleur smiled seductively. "I knew you would." She trailed her nails down his torso taking extra care around his sealed wounds until she took a hold of his length.
He paused to get his breathing under control. "You're… still trying to distract me."
"Is it working?" She raised herself and positioned his crown against her folds. She moaned as she rubbed him back and forth. "Or should I keep using it until you give in and let yourself feel."
Harry groaned at the pleasure, he was painfully hard and ached to be inside of her. While he'd indeed resisted her command, it had still had an effect on his physiology. Listening to her heavy breathing, and feeling just how wet she was for him, he knew she wasn't going to be forthcoming with any further details at the time. As much as he wanted to know more, he could wait a few hours.
"We're not done with this conversation," he said, before placing a kiss against her collarbone and at her pulse point.
She leaned in and nibbled on his ear before speaking. He could hear the smirk in her voice.
"I don't doubt zhat." She sank down with a breathless gasp and moaned a deep shuddering sound as he filled her.
…
"Veela. It's an implant of my own design." Fleur sipped her coffee; a light breeze blew through her hair. They were currently relaxing on the small balcony of his apartment.
Harry lit a cigarette and placed the pack beside his mug on the tiny patio table that separated them. "It felt like my body had a mind of its own. I ran a diagnostic, there was no intrusion, no abnormality, nothing. I've been hit by a targeted daemon hack before, this was different."
"It is different," she confirmed. "Zhe implant, it is like a suggestion, it targets zhe subconscious, forces zhe brain to fire all zhe right synapses, in just zhe right way to make you believe I am your consciousness. Zhat my voice, my words, are your zhoughts. If you 'ave a strong mind, or per'aps I should say an… obstiné – stubborn – mind, it can be fought."
"But for most," She stared down from the balcony to the city below and the masses walking the streets. "A look into my eyes, and a few words, and zhe weak, zhey just fall in line like little soldiers…" She tapped her fingers on her mug, mimicking a man's walk with her dainty digits.
"It sounds dangerous." He finished his cigarette and took a deep sip of his coffee, savouring the taste. A connoisseur would argue that smoke ruined the taste, but a cigarette with a coffee was one of the small pleasures.
"It is dangerous, very," she agreed with a knowing nod. "And zhat is why I 'ad to get it back. But it is not wizhout its weaknesses, unlike a daemon, I must 'ave direct eye contact, and my voice must be 'eard from my lips unobstructed, and no recordings."
Harry rested his cheek against his fist and met her gaze. "Why did you create it? Granted we've only known each other for a week, you don't strike me as the dominating type."
Fleur laughed her beautiful musical laugh. "Non, I'm not. While I enjoy being assertive in zhe bedroom," she smirked teasingly. "Zhis project, I developed it as a proof of concept."
"It was because of my grand-mère, actually." She smiled nostalgically. "She would tell me stories of beautiful women who 'ad zhis ability. Veela, zhey were called, it's where I got zhe name from. She said zhat my family were descendants of zhem. None of it is real of course, but zhat doesn't mean it 'ad to stay zhat way."
"So, you wanted to bring a myth to life?"
"In a way, oui."
His eyes sharpened from one second to the next. "You don't really work for Biotechnica, do you?"
Fleur raised an eyebrow. "What makes you say zhat?" She asked curiously, with a hint to her tone which told him he was right.
"I had my suspicions from the start. If you worked for them, then the only reason to approach a merc for help would be if you were trying to hide the fact that your little project went missing, and I doubt they would be so incompetent to have not found out by now."
"I 'ave not been spirited away to zhe bowels of zheir 'eadquarters is zhe proof?" She asked with amusement dancing in her eyes. She held out a hand.
"Fleur Isabelle Delacour, Diplômée en Biomédecine et Neuroingénierie, Université de Paris."
"Biomedical and Neuroengineering…" Harry hummed in acceptance. "Explains how you were able to develop that." He pointed towards her neck where the implant was. "Where does Biotechnica fit into all of this?"
"Felix. 'E is an employee. I consulted on a small project." Fleur paused as her jaw clenched. "I—zhought I was 'elping a friend."
Harry was satisfied with her answer. It would explain why Hermione had found a connection between Fleur and Biotechnica. Megacorp employee registers were notoriously difficult to get a hold of, so any link, no matter how small, was usually all you could rely on for validity. While everything she'd said seemed in order. Harry was a firm believer in an old proverb.
'Trust, but verify.'
It was for that reason, he'd already sent what he'd now learnt to Hermione. He was sure Fleur expected no less, she was no fool after all.
"It's my turn now," said Fleur as she shifted to lean against the railing before crossing her arms.
"Your turn?"
"To ask questions."
"Fair enough, what do you want to know?" agreed Harry, while grabbing his pack of cigarettes. Fleur waited for him to finish lighting one before continuing.
"You," answered Fleur after a moment's pause.
"Why?" He smirked.
"Don't pretend to be un imbécile," Fleur glared.
Harry chuckled. "Let's start with what you know, and I'll tell you my story."
"Zhere is no records of your real name–"
"Harry James Potter," he cut her off.
She smiled before continuing. "Green appeared eight years ago. Small work, no failures, but zhen again, zhe work was easy. You became famous after a job involving Maelstrom went wrong, you were zhe only survivor. It seemed as if you were simply lucky, but non, you killed every single member of zhat disgusting gang zhat was present zhat night. Relations between Zhe Mox and Maelstrom were sour after zhat, but after a cyber-attack crippled zhree of zheir 'igh ranking members, zhey backed off. 'Ermione, I presume?"
"Cleaning up my messes as always."
Fleur nodded. "You 'ave strong ties to Zhe Mox, 'ow? I believed zhey were a female only gang?"
"I was raised by them, my mother was a member."
"Your mother?"
"Lily Evans–" He took a deep puff of his cigarette. "She was a bartender– got pregnant by some rich kid who left her. All he ever gave me was the name."
"Lily? Zhe tattoos," Fleur smiled as zhat mystery was solved.
"A way to honour her."
"What 'appened to 'er? If you don't mind me asking."
He shrugged. "It's alright, she was killed. Hexed fucker went nuts in the bar. I'd come upstairs, it was no place for a kid, but this was Lizzies, nobody would be stupid enough to try anything."
"Désolée, 'Exed?"
"Cyberpsycho," explained Harry. Fleur's eyes widened in realisation.
"I was six, it was late– should've been asleep. My mum had an area downstairs where I'd nap while she worked. I was hungry, came upstairs to look for her. That's when people started screaming, barely even followed what was happening. Next thing I knew, I was on the floor, she was on top of me."
He killed the smouldering bud of his cigarette in an ashtray.
"She'd shielded me, three shots to the back. The psycho was killed quickly enough, but there were a dozen dead Mox, my mum included."
"Merde… I'm sorry, I shoul–"
He waved his hand, cutting her off. "It's in the past, The Mox raised me after that, they didn't have to, could've left me on the streets, but they didn't."
Fleur paused, and looked to the side, the bright sun shone off her hair, and warmed her skin.
"What's next?" She turned and faced away from him to look over the railing.
"Next?"
"Felix, us?"
"Us?
"Oui, us, I don't just sleep wizh anyone. I like you, 'Arry Potter, you interest me."
"It's a bit soon to talk about 'us', but I won't deny, I'm curious to see where this leads."
His answer seemed to satisfy her, so he continued. "V seems to have something for us, we'll see what she has to say, that's if you're serious about getting involved?"
"I owe 'er, I am serious," answered Fleur with determination.
Harry's gaze burned into her; she was facing away but she could feel it. "Alright."
"Regarding Felix, unless you have a lead, we wait. Hermione will find something, she always does."
"Non," Fleur shook her head. "Nozhing zhat comes to mind."
The cool breeze rustled the oversized tank top, revealing her shapely ass and her little tattoo. Harry stood and came to stand behind her, taking a hold of the railing with his arms on either side of her.
"Then, until either her or V gets in touch. I have a thing or two that needs doing. Mainly this." He held his arm in front of her and closed his hand in a fist. His forearm mantis blade mechanism revealed itself and the missing blade. Fleur took a hold of his forearm and inspected the cybernetics.
"I have a ripperdoc to visit," he explained. "You're welcome to come with me."
"Mind if we make a little detour?" she asked while leaning back against him, and tugging on the tank top she was wearing amusedly. "I could use some zhings."
Harry laughed softly and took a hold of her, his hand rested on her stomach. He could feel her toned abs through the thin fabric. "I think my clothes suit you," he teased. "You don't agree?"
"As much as I enjoy your cock," Fleur laughed, the heaviness of their earlier conversation forgotten. "I don't zhink it should do zhe zhinking."
Misty's Esoterica, Urmland Street, Little China, Watson, Night City
13:28
Fleur eyed the New Age shop front and read the neon sign above it. "Misty's Esoterica and Chakra 'Armonization… Zhis does not look like a ripperdoc clinic."
"It's not, Vik's place is behind it. Come on." He motioned to enter before pausing. "Oh, and don't mind anything Misty says."
The smell was the first thing Fleur noticed. Incense. It was mellow enough to not irritate the senses, something she was grateful for. The interior of the store was dark. What little illumination there was came from LED bars on the walls, and of all things, candles…
The store held a scattered array of items of Asian origin, lucky cat ceramics on high shelves, Chinese lanterns hanging from the ceiling, and bronze Feng Shui Dragon statues.
On the left of everything was a counter that was manned by a fairly pretty young woman who would be considered strange even by Night City's standards. Pale skin with black lipstick and dark eyeshadow, a haphazardly cut puffy bob of dark blonde hair that appeared to be the result of a messy bleach treatment. The only thing Fleur found worse with the hair was the fringe, it came all the way down to the girl's brow in a straight line that made the entire haircut seem like one big helmet of split ends… It gave the French woman heart palpitations.
The girl's clothing was strange too. A baggy purple sweater that left her shoulders bare, a spiked choker around her neck and black corded necklaces with polished crystals and a pentagram.
She looked up as they entered. "Harry?" Her voice was soft, tired.
"Hey, Misty, how are you?" There was a tenderness in his tone that surprised her. She walked around the counter and stepped into his space when he opened his arms and wrapped them around her in a comforting hug.
Misty sighed forlornly when he let go of her. "I get by… It's been—hard. But Jackie wouldn't want me to sit here and feel sorry for myself."
Fleur realised that Jackie must have been a friend or lover that died recently.
"Who's this?" asked Misty curiously, her focus on the third occupant of the room.
"This is Fleur, she's my—" Harry glanced at Fleur before answering. "…client." It was technically untrue, as their deal only attained to retrieving what was stolen from her, which they'd already accomplished.
Fleur's lip twitched in amusement. "Oui."
Before Misty could ask another question, Harry quickly asked if Viktor was free.
"He's got nothing right now, go on ahead," Misty pointed over her shoulder to the door at the back.
"Before you go," cut in Misty as they were about to leave. She focused her attention on Fleur. "When you're done, if you have the time, I'd love to give you a reading." She held up her deck of Tarot cards.
Fleur gave the cards a sceptic focus. "Oui?"
"Lovely," smiled Misty. "And you, Harry?"
"I'm alright," grinned Harry, roguishly. "You know I prefer the mystery. We'll see you soon."
..
Harry led Fleur through the back, there was a small open area which led to steps with a metal gate at the bottom. In the centre was a hairless Siamese cat lounging on a sheet of cardboard.
Never one to pass up the opportunity to pet a cat, Fleur approached it, hand stretched out and coo ready at her lips. But it was not meant to be, the small cat stared piercingly at her before getting up and smoothly walking around her without so much as a second glance.
Instead, it rubbed up against Harry who leaned down and scratched it behind the ears, earning an audible purr. Fleur stared at the interaction with a burning jealousy. Harry picked up on this and grinned victoriously.
Her glare strengthened and he chuckled before giving the cat one last scratch in parting.
The metal gate slid open with an easy pull to reveal a large room with a ripperdoc's chair in the centre, and a work area where Viktor was relaxing while watching a boxing match on a computer display.
"Vik!" Harry called out, startling the man who was heavily engrossed. He turned and Fleur got a proper look at him. He was older than them, with short black hair, dark sunglasses and a heavy five 0'clock shadow.
"Harry!" Viktor stood and greeted with a grin, crossing the short distance and grabbing his hand before pulling him in for a half-hug and a heavy pat on the back.
"I see you've brought company, and one too pretty for your scruffy ass."
"Funny," Harry mock punched his gut, causing the older man to laugh. "Fleur, this is Viktor, the best ripperdoc Night City has, and the only one you can trust to not fuck you over."
"Is zhat so? Per'aps I might get some work done as well." Fleur surprised Harry. He didn't think she'd be willing to use an underground ripperdoc.
"Are you sure?"
"Oui, but nozhing too extreme."
Harry pondered her choice for a moment before coming to the same conclusion. While she was not 'defenceless', she would benefit from something more.
"Monowire?" suggested Harry.
"Hmm." Fleur nodded her agreement, and suddenly had a thought. "You wouldn't 'appen to 'ave anyzhing wizh fire?"
"I have a thing or two." Viktor's eyes glowed as he sent a list.
Fleur scrolled through it until something caught her eyes. She grinned; it was perfect.
"Zhis," she said, making her selection.
Viktor met Fleur's eyes. "QianT."
"I'll take it, and I'm paying for anyzhing 'Arry needs."
Harry frowned and made to argue but Fleur cut him off with a determined glare.
"I am zhe reason you are 'ere. I refuse to allow myself to appear ungrateful."
Viktor chuckled and patted Harry on the chest with his fist. "It's not everyday someone shuts this one up." He gestured for the ripperdoc seat. "Whoever's first, plant your ass over there."
…
Fleur leaned against the store counter and stared at the small flame in her hand with a grin. Misty returned from the back where she'd been busy and paused at the sight.
"Try not to set fire to my store," she said and placed a small box on a shelf before grabbing her tarot cards.
"Désolée." Fleur closed her hand, smothering the flame. She reopened it and rubbed at the gold and platinum lines of her new mod. She found them beautiful, elegant. They weren't usually installed in such a manner, but Harry was not lying, Viktor was an exceptionally talented ripperdoc.
Harry watched from the side with his back against the wall and a can of NiCola Peach soda in his hand which he'd raided from Misty's fridge. He took a sip and frowned before drinking it anyway.
Misty shuffled her deck of tarot cards with an excited gleam in her eyes. "Let us begin."
To be entirely honest, Fleur felt a bit silly partaking in superstitions.
With a smooth, practised motion, Misty flipped the first card over. It was of a carefree man walking with an exaggerated gait on a rooftop, his one foot over the edge.
"The Fool," said Misty and Fleur felt a spark of annoyance that was stamped out when she continued to explain. "We are all The Fool, you, me. He represents life, the journey, and each step we take into the unknown. He trudges on, driven with a hope that the next step will be greater, more fulfilling than the last."
Fleur kept her silence; her curiosity had been piqued. She noticed Misty was waiting for her go ahead and gave a small nod to continue.
The next card was of a woman with a black leather kimono, and long flowing white hair. She had her eyes closed as she tilted her head up towards the sky, calm and composed while standing in a field of live and decayed flowers."
"The Empress," smiled Misty. "She is femininity, and authority. Creativity and refinement. She teaches us to listen to our subconscious and trust our intuition."
"You've spent years fighting yourself, haven't you?" asked Misty. "Trying to fit into a mold of expectations, burying the voice in the back of your mind."
Fleur didn't respond apart from a furrowing of her brow.
"One more," said Misty with a pause. The final card was of a skeletal figure with glowing yellow eyes, it was licking the edge of a blade with a forked tongue, and despite the lack of any real facial features. It was excited.
"Death, the ultimate transition. The inevitable. The end of your past self, and the birth of your future. You cannot run from it; it is already within your path."
Misty stared at Fleur with intrigue. "I think, I'll let you have these." She collected the three cards and slid them towards Fleur, who picked them up curiously.
"You're a bird caught in a storm, Fleur Delacour. Will you spread your wings and soar? Or will you crash, never to fly again?"
…
Fleur climbed onto the back of Harry's motorcycle, wrapping her arms around his waist. He revved the bike once to warm the engine and pulled away smoothly. Fleur relaxed into his back, her mind on the cards. She didn't believe in any sort of predestined fate or flimsy divination, but that didn't mean it didn't get her thinking.
She adjusted her arm slightly, the monowire and her QianT dermal implants left them itching. While Harry sped through the Night City traffic, she couldn't help but feel calm. Her hand brushed against the holstered handgun tucked beneath his jacket, and she fought the urge to take a hold of it. To feel cold steel in her hand.
Misty wasn't wrong, there really was a part of her that she'd kept hidden, shoved deep down. It was the part that wouldn't fit in polite company, that someone of her upbringing had no place in having.
She felt it stirring the night before, while the entire ordeal was terrifying, she couldn't deny the 'thrill', the way her blood sang when she'd taken down the gang members who had her trapped.
It wasn't too late, she knew that she could still get out, go home, tell her father about Felix. But she'd gotten a taste for this life and now she wanted more. She needed more. Besides, revenge was something you did yourself. She wondered how pitifully Felix would scream when she wrapped her burning hands around his throat.
A text notification appeared in both Harry and Fleur's inbox, making her blink before opening it.
...
V: Tom's Diner 6pm?
OMAKE
"What zhe fuck is zhat!?"
"Oh haha, you two are fucking perfect for each other!" snapped V as she opened her car door. The little MaiMai hatchback weathered the insults with all the poise of a brick wall.
"Just get in," said V testily.
…
"Ohayou-gozaimasu!"
"Sauve-moi s'il te plaît! I've died and gone to 'ell."
END CHAPTER FOUR