Rk900 One-Shots

consideration | s

There had been a murder at the Eden Club. Or, well, another one, she had supposed. She had been there on November sixth. That unforgettable day when the Detroit Police Department was called to the address for the first time in the club's history. Michael Graham had been murdered by two sex androids, who had fled the scene under mysterious circumstances. A pleasant looking—rather kind and innocent, in fact—Rk800 had come through with his disgruntled partner. She had helped them with security cameras and allowed them temporary unfiltered access to the brief memories to the facility's sex androids. It did violate policy, but the cameras couldn't keep footage of her breaking the rules if she controlled the tapes, so what was the harm?

She had remembered the look of the innocent android, never tapping into the little memory snippet of his dark grey tie and coin tricks. That was until an android of similar features, not a carbon copy entirely, came strolling in with an equally disgruntled partner. They were detectives for the murder.

This time, however, was different. Much different.

The sheer appearance of the android was very new to her. Must be a new model, she thought to herself as her eyes raked over his form for a millisecond—basking in his clothing and features for only a moment—as she had never seen anything like him. He didn't have the CyberLife uniform on, surely that part had to be illegal, instead a regular suit and tie. Maybe not regular but designer, as well as the cuff links and tie clip. His face was defined and sharp, stark contrast to the soft and puppy-like features of his predecessor. If she had the choice to be in his company for a day—or night, she wasn't picky—she would in a heartbeat. But, she had things to do.

The pair had entered about a half an hour after forensics and the initial first responders. She had been cooperative, wanting them gone before the media had their teeth sunk into the place like a lion. If she was to make the Eden Club look good, she needed everything up and running as fast as possible before clients became frustrated.

When the android, she was just going to assume it was an Rk900, had come in with his partner, her eyes had glued to the pair. With impeccable taste in style of suit and professionally styled hair, swept to the side with a slight fade, she found it hard to keep her eyes off him. In fact, she opted to just keep focus to the partner, only when needed she would look at him.

When they had stopped in front of her, they had just come from investigating the body and a quick conversation with the first responder. Her talk with an officer was just going to have to wait.

Not only was the android different, the victim—obviously— was different. It was an android. One of the customers had killed a female Traci.

"You're the detectives?" Her voice hid the fact she had the gruesome crime scene replaying in the back of her mind. She had been the one to make the nine-one-one call after all.

The guy next to the Rk900 responded before the android could formulate a sentence. "Yeah. I'm Lieutenant Reed and this is Detective Nines. Would you mind showing us the footage from the time so we can—"

"Uh, yeah," she cleared her throat uncomfortably, shifting eyes to the ground momentarily before taking a step back in the direction of one of the back rooms, "Of course, I've done... I've done this before. Uh, follow me."

Anderson must've resigned or something, she thought. She definitely didn't remember this asshole being a Lieutenant.

Even if she was mildly uncomfortable, she couldn't help but interrupt the man with the stubble. He was rude the last encounter they had shared, sharing rude comments and being a nuisance in general.

She then led them to the back room with the security cams and boxes of old tapes, past the dancing androids and different colored rooms. It wasn't a particularly huge room but it was spacious enough for at least five to ten monitors with a control panel for all of them. Bidding them to shut the door after them, she began typing away. "This is... a little awkward." Lieutenant Reed scoffed, a bit confused as to why Eden Club, a place promising discrete and disclosed pleasures, would need cams.