Hey dear reader, this is my first-ever fanfic, and I've always been intrigued by Jason Todd's character. He seemed like a perfect addition to the Cyberpunk universe, so I decided to write this short fanfic using missions and scenarios from the Cyberpunk world, and romancing Panam, seeing them as a good chaotic duo. Please be patient with me as English is not my first language. I am also using AI to help correct my grammar, word usage, and enhance my perspective. I hope this doesn't cause any frustration or resentment. My only goal with this story is to entertain. I hope you find it fun, and I'm more than happy to receive constructive criticism with the intention of improvement. Thank you, and enjoy!

Red Hood in Night City

Prologue:

Jason Todd, known in Night City later known as "Red Hood" becomes a member of the Tiger Claws at age 15, utilizing the skills passed down from his late parents, who were Tiger Claw elite. He quickly ascends through the ranks due to his exceptional abilities in espionage and assassination, earning a reputation as one of the gang's most effective operatives. However, as he grows older, Jason becomes increasingly disenchanted with the Tiger Claws' deepening ties to Arasaka, viewing the gang as straying from the independence that his parents fought for.

After leaving the Tiger Claws, Jason Todd at 18 becomes a frequent fixture at the Afterlife, the infamous hub for Night City's elite mercenaries. No longer bound by gang loyalties, he seeks out contracts as a solo operator, leveraging his reputation to attract clients who value discretion and effectiveness.

One evening, as Jason is at the bar, he notices Panam Palmer storming out, visibly enraged. Recognizing her from stories circulating in merc circles, he stops her…

Chapter 1

Night City never sleeps, and nowhere is that more evident than at the Afterlife, where mercenaries and fixers rub shoulders with corporate execs and gang leaders. In the dim light and smoky air of the bar, conversations blend into a constant, low hum, punctuated by the occasional clink of glasses and the faint thump of bass from an old jukebox.

Jason Todd, known in these circles as RedHood, leaned against the bar, his gaze fixed on the entrance of Rogue's private booth. The infamous fixer was in there, no doubt setting up another high-risk, high-reward job. His trademark red helmet, a stark reminder of his origins and the legacy of his parents, sat beside him, catching the light now and then, a silent sentinel.

The crowd parted momentarily as Panam Palmer stormed out of the booth, her face a mask of fury. The mercs and hustlers gave her a wide berth, sensing the storm of anger she carried. Jason watched her, a calculating look in his eye. He knew of her, of course. Panam was a rising name in the merc world—tough, skilled, and, by all accounts tonight, royally screwed over.

She slammed a fist into the bar, ordering a shot of whiskey, downing it in one go before slamming the glass down for another. Jason took this as his cue. He picked up his helmet, the red visor catching the bar's neon lights, and approached her, his boots thudding softly on the worn floor.

"Rogue stiff you?" he asked, his voice even, as he stopped beside her at the bar.

Panam glanced at him, her anger simmering just below the surface. Recognition flickered in her eyes as she took in the helmet, then his face. "You're Redhood, right? The guy who walked away from the Tiger Claws?"

"Depends," Jason replied with a slight smirk, leaning against the bar. "You looking for help or a reason to punch something?"

"My old crew screwed me," Panam said after a moment, the words clipped. "Stole my ride. My cargo. Nash—the gonk. Rogue bailed, said it's not worth the heat. But I'm not letting it slide."

Jason's smirk widened slightly. "Then maybe we can help each other."

Panam paused, eyeing him warily. She was used to going it alone, trusting others wasn't her style. But Jason wasn't just anyone—he was Redhood, a man with a reputation that preceded him, a man who knew how to get things done.

"Alright, Redhood," she finally said, the edge in her voice softening a fraction. "What's your price?"

Jason picked up his helmet, sliding it under one arm. "First, let's get your ride back. Then we talk payment."

As the conversation continued, the air between them thick with tension and possibilities, Panam fixed Jason with a steely gaze. "No way, tell me now—how much?"

Jason met her gaze squarely, his voice steady. "Fine, I might need your expertise, your knowledge of the Badlands for my mission. I'll tell you the details after we get back your ride."

There was a moment's hesitation as Panam weighed her options, the distrust inherent to a life lived on the edge momentarily clear in her expression. Finally, she nodded, her response tinged with a mix of caution and curiosity. "Alright, Redhood, but you better keep your end of the deal."

A hint of a smirk returned to Jason's lips. "So, do you have a ride?" Panam asked, shifting the topic to more immediate concerns.

"Yeah, a bike," Jason replied, his tone lightening a bit. "If you're not scared of those, you can ride behind me."

Panam's lips twitched into a reluctant smile, her usual tough demeanor cracking just slightly. "Scared?" she echoed, raising an eyebrow. "I've ridden worse. Lead the way, Redhood."

While they were walking out, Panam shared the plan: "Rocky Ridge, where Nash and his Raffens usually gather. Nice little ghost town. We can surprise them if we go now and set a nice little trap before they arrive…"

Jason nodded in approval as they walked toward the exit. "Sounds perfect. Let's go there then."

With that, they left the electric buzz of the Afterlife behind, stepping out into the cooler air of the night. Jason led her to where his bike was parked—a sleek, ARCH Nazaré, dark model with enhancements that were not strictly street legal. As Panam swung onto the bike behind him, the compact power of the engine rumbling to life under them, it felt like the beginning of something inevitable. Neither of them knew exactly where this partnership would lead, but for now, their path was set. They would retrieve what was stolen, and then the real work would begin.