Sparkles over Night City

Style over sense

Night City glittered beyond the apartment window—neon veins pulsing through the dark. Inside, V stood in the centre of Judy Alvarez’s bedroom, wobbling like a newborn foal in heels that could’ve doubled as weapons.

“Okay,” V muttered, planting her hands on her hips as if that alone could stabilize her. “How hard can this be? People walk in these things all the time.”

Judy, sitting on the edge of the bed in cargo pants and a tank top, absolutely lost it. She was laughing so hard her shoulders shook, one hand pointing accusingly at V’s legs.

“Choom, you look like you’re trying to hack gravity and losing.”

V glared—well, tried to. Hard to look intimidating when your knees were negotiating a truce with your balance.

“I said I wanted to look… y’know… sexy.” She tugged at the hem of the tight black dress, which didn’t budge. “You said you’d help.”

“I did help!” Judy wiped a tear from the corner of her eye. “I did your makeup, Sykes your hair, zipped you into that—” she waved vaguely at V’s dress “—that situation. But the shoes? That was all you, girl.”

Another wobbly step, and V grabbed the back of a chair before she toppled over.

“Feels like I’m walking on two stacked gun magazines. I can’t even bend my ankles!”

“That’s the point,” Judy said with a grin. “You’re not supposed to. Just… glide.”

“Glide? Judy, the only thing I’m gonna glide into is a wall.”

Judy scooted forward, patting the space next to her. “Come here.”

V carefully attempted the approach. One step. Wobble. Another step. A micro-swear whispered under her breath. Eventually she reached the bed, though it was less gliding and more surviving.

Judy took her hands, steadying her. “Okay. Look. You don’t have to do all this for some date.”

V shrugged, suddenly shy in a way that didn’t fit the merc who’d punched out cyberpsychos and stormed corporate fortresses. “I just… wanted to try something different. Y’know. For once.”

Judy softened instantly.

“And you look amazing,” she said, voice low and warm. “Like—seriously, V. If the heels were a test, you’re failing spectacularly, but the rest? Chef’s kiss.”

V snorted. “Wow. High praise.”

“Mhmm.” Judy leaned in a bit. “Also, for full disclosure? I like you better in your boots.”

V brightened, but hid it under a playful scoff. “Coulda told me that before I nearly broke my legs.”

Judy tilted her head, smirking. “Then I wouldn’t have had this comedy show.”

V rolled her eyes, but the grin gave her away.

“Alright, alright,” she said, bending down to unstrap the heels—except she immediately lost her balance and toppled sideways into Judy, who caught her with a surprised “oof!”

For a moment, they froze—face to face, inches apart, V half sprawled across Judy’s lap.

“…You okay?” Judy asked.

“Yeah,” V murmured, cheeks warm. “Never wearing those shoes again though.”

“Good.” Judy’s fingers brushed V’s arm, slow, deliberate. “Because the girl I wanna go on a date with doesn’t need heels to look good.”

V blinked. “Wait. You’re the date?”

“Well,” Judy said with a shrug and an adorable flush, “I’m hoping?”

A beat. Then V smiled—soft, real.

“In that case,” she said, kicking off the second heel with her foot, “lemme grab my boots.”

Judy laughed again—but this time, she pulled V in for a quick kiss before she let her go.

“Yeah, choom. Now that’s sexy.”

Neon from the skyline painted soft pinks and blues across the floor, right where V was bracing herself to kick off her second heel.

“Watch this,” V said with the confidence of someone who absolutely should not be confident.

Judy raised an eyebrow. “V, maybe just—”

Too late.

V flicked her foot out in what she thought would be a graceful, rebellious flourish. Instead, the heel launched off like a missile, she lost her centre of gravity, and—

WHUMP.

She hit the floor in an undignified sprawl, one leg half on the carpet, the other still bent mid–kung-fu motion.

“Oof…” V groaned into the rug. “I meant to do that.”

Judy slapped a hand over her mouth, shoulders shaking with laughter. “Sure you did.”

Before V could collect what was left of her dignity, a tiny chiming mewl echoed from under the bed. Then a small, fluffy ginger kitten—Sparkles, Judy’s newly adopted menace—trotted out like she was investigating a crime scene.

Sparkles approached V with the seriousness of a miniature detective. She sniffed V’s hair, then her cheek, and finally her nose.

V went cross-eyed watching her. “Hey, little choom…”

Sparkles decided this was prime face-licking territory and began happily grooming V’s nose.

Judy’s laugh turned into a strangled squeak. She dropped onto her knees beside them, hands over her heart.

“Oh my god,” she whispered. “I can’t. I can’t. This is too damn cute.”

Sparkles, encouraged by the audience, made a pleased chirp and climbed onto V’s chest like she'd discovered a new cat bed.

V lay helpless beneath five inches of fluff and the weight of Judy’s melted expression.

“Well,” V said, sounding defeated and fond all at once, “guess I’m not getting up.”

“Don’t you dare move,” Judy said, already reaching for her holo to take a picture. “This is going on the wall. Sparkles’ first victim.”

V groaned. Sparkles purred. And Judy just… beamed, ridiculously in love with both of them in her own quietly chaotic way.

“Y’know,” Judy added, “you trying to be sexy is cute and all, but honestly? This? This right here is killing me.”

V sighed dramatically. “So the kitten wins, huh?”

“Oh, absolutely,” Judy said. “Sparkles always wins.”

Sparkles meowed proudly, as if she fully understood—and V finally laughed, letting herself sink into the moment, kitten cuddles and all.