Chapter Text
“Could you at least put something else on?” Johnny asks, kicking his feet up onto the top of the passenger’s side dash and gesturing to the tank-top V’s wearing. “At least let me get the smell of him out of my nose.” She’d followed up River on his promise of beers last night, which turned into dinner, which turned into meeting his family, which had turned into… it had been a good night. She hadn’t got a lot of sleep. The tank-top was a memento.
“Fuckin’... seriously?” She asks, glancing away from the road of the badlands for just a second to look at him in disbelief. Everything that’s going on, and Johnny takes issue with her wearing a guy’s shirt?
“Yeah. Stinks of bacon in here,” he spits. His arms are crossed, shoulders hunched up -- he’s been like this all morning. Perpetually fucking complaining about V spending the night with River. He complains about most things, honestly, but it’s really, really getting to V today. Maybe it’s because she’s only had about four hours sleep.
She considers telling him to fuck off, or threatening him with meds again -- but when she realises her nails are digging into the steering wheel, it dawns on her that he wants an argument. Johnny Silverhand likes a lot of things, but V’s come to learn during their time together that he loves to argue. It’s like a sport to him. Like he gets off on constant confrontation. “Will it shut you the fuck up?” She asks through her teeth.
“Don’t see why it’s such an inconvenience,” he snips back. “You’ve got your entire fuckin’ wardobe in the trunk.”
“Fine.” V exhales and quickly turns right, taking the car off road and causing Johnny to slam against the passenger door in doing so. Unable to hold back a smirk, she can’t help but feel a little thankful that engrams can do that -- not that she has a clue how that shit works. She tries not to think about it. Makes her head hurt.
The car bounces violently as she drives into the nothingness of the badlands, getting far enough off road to grant her a little bit of privacy. Satisfied with the distance, she pulls it to a stop, opening the door and stepping out without another word. She can hear him flicker in and out, his engram following her as she rounds the car and opens the trunk. Johnny really wants a fight today, apparently. “Come on, a fuckin’ cop, V?”
“It’s almost like you think you get a say in who I fuck,” V bitterly laughs, rumming through the trunk to find something to wear. Her fingers hover over a golden bustier. She’s meeting with Panam after this -- too showy?
“She doesn’t give a fuck what you wear,” Johnny cuts in, speaking over her thoughts. “And I can’t tell you who to fuck, but I thought you’d have better taste than a badge,” he grunts. “Any chance of a shower soon? Feels like I’m covered in grease.”
V rolls her eyes, settling on the bustier and pulling River’s tank-top over her head. “I had to watch you fuck Alt, you had to watch me fuck River. We’re even.”
“Wasn’t watching, V,” he argues, pointing his fingers to his head as she pulls the bustier over hers. “How many times do I gotta tell you? What you eat, I taste. What you smell, I smell. What you fuck--”
“I get it, fuck! ” V slams the trunk closed.
Johnny doesn’t let up, glitching in front of her as she turns to get back in the car, arms crossed. “Look,” his voice is a little calmer, but V can tell it’s an effort for him, something he’s doing to try and throw her or make her feel bad, make her feel like she’s being unreasonable. “I don’t have a problem with you getting your cunt stuffed. I get it. Dipped my dick in my share of--”
“This is
gross.”
“Judy was down,” he continues. “At least she’s not some corpo-serving facist.”
Rolling her eyes, V attempts to side-step Johnny, but he glitches in front of her again. “You only want me to fuck Judy because you wanna fuck Judy.”
“If I had my pick, you’d be wrist deep in Panam--”
“Ugh,” V spits in disgust, pushing past the engram and making her way to the driver’s seat. “Look, I’m sorry I didn’t wait until you were outta’ my head, but I had a real fuckin’ bad itch to scratch, okay? Can we go now?” Her hand on the handle of the door, something stops her -- Johnny’s hand on her wrist.
“Real fuckin’ shame that Officer Joy Toy couldn’t scratch it, huh?”
V snatches her wrist away. “He was great, actually. Thanks for your concern.” She opens the door and swings herself into the front seat, slamming it behind her. “Asshole.”
“Can’t be that great if he couldn’t make you cum.”
V’s eyes snap beside her, watching Johnny glitch back into the passenger’s seat -- arms still crossed, but any look of anger on his face replaced by a smug, shit-eating grin that makes V’s skin crawl. “Oh fuck off, Johnny. You don’t know what the fuck you’re--”
“You think I haven’t witnessed you flickin’ the bean before, V?” He laughs. “Might not have said anything, but I was there, fully fuckin’ present.” He grins, leaning in and lowering his sunglasses so he can look her directly in the eye. “I know exactly what it feels like when you get off, and Porky Pig back there didn’t even come close.”
V stares at him for a second, pushing down her initial instinct -- which is to punch him. No point. She’s tried it before and he just glitches out of the way. Instead, she twists around in the driver’s seat, climbing into the back. “Where the fuck are those meds?”
“You serious right now?” Johnny scoffs. “Gonna block me out for tellin’ you what you already fuckin’ know?!”
“You’re being a fucking creep,” she argues, on her hands and knees in the back seat, checking the floor for the pill bottle. She swears it was back here last time she checked. Must have rolled under one of the front seats last time she went off roading.
V twists around in the back, preparing to look down beneath the driver’s side seat this time -- but as she scoots onto her butt, Johnny glitches into the back seat with her. “No, I’m being honest. Your boyfriend back there left you with a serious case of blue walls and it’s making you more of a fuckin’ bitch than usual.”
There’s an argument here to be had -- V knows when Johnny’s inviting her to fight -- but steeles herself. It’s otherwise been a good weekend, and she doesn’t want to foul her mood somewhere between here and Rocky Ridge. “Fuck you,” she utters under her breath, continuing to search the backseat for the blockers. “Fuck are you? Jealous or something?” She grins, finally finding the bottle. Bingo.
“Jealous?” He repeats sarcastically. “You wish.”
“You sure about that?” Opening the pill bottle, she glances up at him quickly. “Because you seem unable to shut the fuck up about it.”
V throws back a pill, dry swallowing it, keeping eye contact with Johnny the entire time. “No offense, V, but you’re not my type. Not even close.” He pauses. “I like my chicks with some spine.”
With that, he glitches away, leaving V alone with her thoughts as she slumps down against the back seat. “Fucking hell,” she exhales. Their relationship has always been testy, but until today it was getting better. It wasn’t really a friendship, but there was a foundation of respect being laid down, at the very least. But today? He’d started as soon as she woke up, going on and on about his disapproval.
She climbs back into the driver’s seat, rolling her shoulders, realising how stiff they are. If the muscle tightness isn’t from the sex, it’s absolutely from how tense Johnny’s bullshit has made her. She pauses for a moment, staring ahead, lingering on the comment he’d made about her ‘not being his type.’ Fuck was that supposed to mean? Was she meant to be offended by that? Why should she care? He’s an asshole -- he’s not her type, either. Was he calling her ugly? She glances into the rear-view mirror. She’s not going to be on a billboard any time soon, but she does okay.
She slams the heel of her hand against the outside of the driver’s wheel in frustration, trying to snap herself out of the thought pattern. Fuck him. She can’t wait to get him out of her head -- literally and metaphorically.
Her phone rings as she resumes her drive. It’s River.
She lets it ring out to voicemail.