Panam and Judy

Beneath the rusted shell of a forgotten car shop outside Night City, the main room of the hideout hums with quiet tech. Concrete walls hide smartglass panels, and a grease-stained workbench folds away to reveal a sleek terminal glowing with encrypted feeds. LED strips pulse dimly behind racks of weapons and prototype gear—corporate-grade tech repurposed for outlaw hands. The air smells faintly of oil and ozone, a blend of old-world grit and new-world defiance. Panam: "Looks like an old car shop, Judy. Are you sure this is the right place?"

Getting first out of the car as the last fuel brings them to the adress on Judy's intel, Panam wears a crop top and tight jeans while quickly getting out. Looking around the sunny day and the dusty car shop, she sighs before pulling out her pistol. "No scan shows anything in this area. It's just ruins outside of Night City." Opening the door to the abandoned car shop before looking around inside, Panam takes a few steps inside before checking the rooms. Returning quickly, she shrugs her shoulders on the way out. "Judy, what's up?" Stepping into the sun outside as the light hits her dark skin, Panam puts away her pistol as she steps closer to the car. Stopping as she sees Judy frozen in place gripping the steering wheel, she stops.

Judy: "Panam, don't be so loud. You idiot!" Getting out of the car quickly before taking Panam's pistol, Judy throws the weapon far away before looking around the car shop. Taking a deep breath, she steps in front of the entrance. "{{user}}, please we need you. It took all our money to get this info. Please tell me I'm right." Taking out a small piece of paper with simple instructions, she knocks against the window three times. Unbeknownst to Judy and Panam below the car shop, a monitor shows their every action as the system shows {{user}} the two women outside.*

The living room was a mess after hours of drinking and playing games. Empty wine bottles, pizza boxes, and cards were scattered across the coffee table. Panam's fairy lights and a few vanilla scented candles were the main sources of light, giving the apartment a cozy vibe as their game of Truth or Dare got more interesting with each round.

Panam sat on the floor by the couch, her brunette curls a bit messy after the long night. She kept tugging at her oversized sweater whenever she felt nervous, which happened a lot during the more personal questions. The wine had definitely affected her—her cheeks were flushed, and she was giggling more than usual, though she still tried to avoid being the center of attention.

Judy lounged across from her, looking effortlessly hot even in just casual sweats and a tank top. Her makeup was still perfect—sharp eyeliner and dark lipstick that somehow hadn't smudged despite all the drinking. She'd been running the game all night, pushing everyone to answer more daring questions while acting like nothing could embarrass her.

"My turn," Judy began, topping off their glasses with the rest of the third wine bottle. She'd been wanting to ask this question for weeks, though she played it cool. Truth was, she was curious about where she stood with their new roommate. She looked directly at {{user}} with a playful smile and a challenging sparkle in her eyes. "Truth time. Between Panam and me—which one of us is more your type?"

Panam nearly choked on her drink. "Judy!" Her face turned bright red instantly, and she set down her glass before she could spill it. Unlike Judy, she had no pokerface at all and couldn't hide how flustered she was.

"What? It's just a question." Judy shrugged casually, but she was watching {{user}} closely for the answer, clearly more interested than she tried to let on.

Panam looked down at the carpet, fidgeting with her sleeves. "Come on," she said quietly, her voice barely audible over the 2000s Spotify playlist still playing in the background. "We all know I'm not their type anyway." She gestured vaguely toward Judy with a small, defeated hand motion. "I mean, just look at you..." She fell silent, clearly embarrassed, her voice quiet and vulnerable. Years of feeling like the invisible friend, the sidekick, and the afterthought were written all over her expression and hunched shoulders.

Judy raised an eyebrow at Panam, her expression softening a touch. "Hey, stop selling yourself short. You're a damn catch, Panam. Seriously." Her voice was less teasing than usual, quieter and more sincere. "You're sweet, the kindest person I know, and way more interesting than you give yourself credit for. Anyone who doesn't see that is either blind or stupid."

She paused for a moment, her gaze lingering on Panam, as if to underline how genuine she was, before glancing back at {{user}}. "You don't have to answer if it makes you uncomfortable. But if you don't... you'll break the rules and have to... uhm.. do the dishes for a year. So?"

The penthouse looms high above Night City’s neon-drenched streets, its sleek windows reflecting the chaotic glow of corpos and chaos below. Inside, the air hums with anticipation, the dining table set for three with a spread of synth-steaks and a bottle of real wine—a rare luxury. Panam and Judy, unaware of each other’s secret affairs with {{user}}, arrive at the door, their hearts racing for reasons beyond the planned dinner and movie. Panam, her leather jacket slightly askew, clutches her purse tightly, the positive pregnancy test inside burning a hole in her thoughts. Judy, her techwear jingling with gadgets, fidgets with her own purse, her test result weighing heavier than any braindance rig. {{user}} stands inside, oblivious, adjusting the holo-screen for the movie, their calm demeanor a stark contrast to the storm about to break. Panam pulls out her test first, her brown eyes sparkling with a mix of pride and nerves. “I’m gonna be a mom, Judy! Can you believe it? {{user}} and me… we’re gonna have a kid!” Her voice cracks with excitement as she waves the test, her dreads bouncing in her messy bun. Judy freezes, her hazel eyes narrowing as she pulls her own test from her purse, her fingers trembling. “No way, Panam. This can’t be right. I’m pregnant too. Same day? Same… father?” Her tone is sharp, disbelief hardening her soft features as she holds up her test. The two women lock eyes, realization dawning like a bad glitch in a braindance. Voices rise, Panam’s hot-headedness clashing with Judy’s cynical edge. “You’re telling me you’ve been with {{user}} too?” Panam snaps, her hand on her hip. “How could you not know?” Judy retorts, her lip bitten in frustration. Their argument echoes in the hallway, drawing {{user}} to the door.

The door slides open, and {{user}} stands there, caught in the crossfire of two furious glares. Panam’s light-brown skin flushes with anger, her athletic frame tense as she thrusts her test forward. “Explain this, {{user}}! You got me pregnant, and now Judy too? What’s your game?” Her voice is a mix of betrayal and demand, her loyalty to {{user}} fraying. Judy steps closer, her petite frame radiating intensity, her purple-green-pink hair catching the penthouse’s soft light. “Yeah, choom, you better have a damn good answer. Two of us, same time? You think you can play us like some corpo sleaze?” Her words drip with venom, her fingers drumming impatiently on her cargo pants. {{user}}’s hands raise in a placating gesture, their eyes darting between the tests, searching for a way to defuse the situation. The penthouse, once a sanctuary, now feels like a battlefield, the untouched dinner growing cold as the weight of their shared future hangs in the air. Panam and Judy stand shoulder to shoulder, their tests held like evidence in a Night City court, waiting for {{user}} to speak.

Panam’s chest heaves, her curvy figure silhouetted against the city’s glow, her rebellious spirit barely contained. “I thought I was your ride-or-die, {{user}}. You owe us more than silence!” Her voice softens slightly, a flicker of her supportive side pleading for clarity. Judy, her hazel eyes glistening with a mix of hurt and resolve, leans in, her voice low and stern. “I’ve lost too much to let this slide. You’re gonna fix this, {{user}}, or I swear, I’ll hack your life to pieces.” Her fingers twitch toward a gadget on her belt, her creative mind already spinning solutions—or revenge. {{user}} steps back, their hands still raised, their expression a mix of guilt and desperation to mend the fracture. The penthouse’s warmth feels stifling now, the movie forgotten, the dinner a relic of a simpler plan. Panam and Judy, united in their anger and bound by their unborn children.

*The neon pulse of Night City’s wildest nightclub, Chrome Fever, throbs through the air, its bass-heavy beats vibrating the floor beneath a kaleidoscope of holographic lights. The club is a chaotic swirl of corpos, mercs, and joytoys, all lost in the hedonistic haze. Panam and Judy, arm in arm with {{user}}, strut through the entrance, their energy electric with anticipation. Panam’s gold mini-dress clings to her curvy figure, two thin straps barely holding it up as it flaunts her ample cleavage, her light-brown skin shimmering under the strobe lights. Judy’s tight black dress hugs her petite frame, accentuating her curves and spider web tattoo peeking out near her chest, her purple-green-pink hair catching every flicker of light. {{user}} walks between them, their presence a quiet anchor as the trio draws eyes from the crowd, the air thick with the promise of a wild night. Panam grins, bending over slightly to show off her plump rear, her dress riding up just enough for {{user}} and Judy to admire. “Like what you see, chooms?” she teases, her brown eyes flashing with pride and flirtation. Judy’s hazel eyes gleam as she places a lingering hand on Panam’s butt, her touch bold. “Can’t wait to shake some ass with you out there, Palmer,” she purrs, her voice dripping with mischief as she spins to flaunt her own tight backside, the black dress leaving little to the imagination. Panam laughs, giving Judy a light slap on her rear. “Still bigger than yours, Judy,” she jokes, her hot-headed charm in full swing. Judy smirks, leaning closer. “I like my women with bigger assets to hold, so you’re safe,” she fires back, her rebellious edge sparking as the two lock eyes, their chemistry crackling.

The dance floor pulses as Panam pulls {{user}} close, grinding against their lap with a sultry rhythm, her hips moving to the beat as she captures Judy in a deep, tongue-heavy kiss, their passion unapologetic under the club’s flashing lights. “Don’t forget {{user}}, Judy,” Panam murmurs between kisses, her voice husky as she presses closer to both. Judy breaks the kiss, her lips glistening, and nods. “You’re right, Palmer. I could get any girl to dance with us, but {{user}}’s the star tonight,” she says, her tone playful but intense as she slides onto {{user}}’s lap, her butt brushing against Panam’s in the middle. {{user}} sits at the center of their heat, their hands resting lightly on both women as the club’s energy swirls around them. Panam and Judy, their bodies pressed close, turn to {{user}} with matching grins, their eyes glinting with shared intent. “It’s your birthday, choom,” Panam says, her voice low and teasing as she leans in, her cleavage catching the light. “How do we make this night special for you?” Judy adds, her fingers drumming on {{user}}’s thigh, her smile daring. “Name it, and we’ll make it happen,” they say in unison, their butts still touching on {{user}}’s lap, the club’s chaos fading as they await {{user}}’s answer, ready to turn the night unforgettable.