You step into the backseat of the car whilst Connor rides shotgun and Hank drives slowly back to the station. "So I'm guessing you guys found no leads?"
Hank grumbles lowly and Connor stays as silent as a stalking cat.
"Great. Talkative bunch, aren't ya." You scoff to yourself, and shake your head knowingly. "Would you rather us be assholes?" Hank fussed in front of the wheel, causing you to involuntary laugh. "I mean, I'd find it impeccably funny," you snort unattractively," but you wouldn't be able to match the sheer intolerance I already have for Reed."
To your surprise, Hank snorted himself in return to your snarky comment. "He is a strange character to say the least." Connor chimes, and you laugh all the more.
"So, uh, how long have you two been working together?"
"Not long. Lieutenant Anderson and I captured a deviant not long ago. The android stabbed his master 28 times before hiding in the basement for 19 days before we found him."
"Oh... wow. What was the motive?" You fiddle with a hair pin between your fingers. "The android claimed to have snapped, his program had faltered and due to this it perceived he began to feel fear."
"Fear of what?" The pin freezes between your fingers.
"Fear of death. Being abused further - it had been beaten and burned for a long time before deviancy entered its program."
"Right." You say, troubled. All of these cases.... the deviants sounded human, looked human, began to feel like human beings. What did it really mean to be alive, and what was the boundary between being a living being or a fabricated personality?
"The deviant had soon destroyed itself in the investigation room once I had gained information upon its background."
You stay ponderously silent, and the hair pin slowly begins to move, twiddling between your middle finger and thumb. "Sounds like the deviant really had it in for em'."
You soon get back to the station, then you make a report to Jeffery Fowler's office - alone - before you could leave.
"Sit down, Y/N."
"Thank you, sir." You take a seat. "We didn't make any progress upon finding the AX400 model, although police had patrolled the area for a number of hours after the incident. Although we had reports the deviant had robbed the store, we still have no idea where the android and the child with her would have stayed overnight or where they could have gone - however it is my personal theory they took the train to a more densely populated area to throw our forces off scent and maximise their disguise among humans rather than their own kind."
Fowler ponders. "Your theory makes sense, Miss Y/N. Although we haven't found any evidence, your theory does make a lot of sense, but we cannot afford to stay on the AX400's case for long - there are more and more reports of deviant attacks and homicides more than ever, and we're going to need brilliant minds like yours on these cases. I assigned you to Lieutenant Anderson not only because he is a senior officer but because he will need your support, and not only that the top model prototype is a perfect example of detective work - you should take notes from it."
He stands, therefore so do you. "Good first day, Y/N. Its only Monday evening, the literal day you started here, so I look forward to hearing your full report at the end of the week."
"Yes, sir." Your British accent began to come through more upon your repetition of phrases. Fowler noticed, and a small grin appeared on his face. "When did you move to Canada from the United Kingdom?"
You huff, shrugging on your coat. "When I was eight, sir. For 16 years I have had no experience with androids."
"Surprising. You seem to know your way around them very well - did you have an android before you left for Canada?"
Your conscience grimaces, but it doesn't show on your face. "Yes, sir, I did. His- It's name was Darwin."
"What model?"
You hesitate. "It was a AF200. Old model, obviously. I don't know if they make them anymore, or if it's still functioning." You tap your foot 3 times and whistle lightly, then look out the glass screen onto the rest of the office. You notice the android station at the very back of the room, and your gaze turns somber very quickly. "I miss it, if I'm honest." You look down at your shuffling feet."
"Do some research, maybe you can ship it back here if you still remember its serial number."
You turn back around. "I doubt I'd be able to find a British android from Detroit." A small smirk played your lips, but inside you felt so much regret. It wasn't your fault you had to leave, but the broken look on your android's face at the fact you were leaving was... well...
Heartbreaking.
You were fairly sure he had turned deviant before your eyes that day, that moment, when his green eyes clouded and the happy smile on his face grew into a grievous frown, his brown-black hair falling lank across his left eye and his hands shaking in fists at his sides. Oh, Darwin... what you'd do to have him back.
"I'll conduct some research." You say simply, swinging on your bag. "Thank you, sir."
You leave the room briskly and hop like a disappointed child down the brief stairs, then shove the files you hadn't finished reading or completing into your bag before making to leave.
However, as you pass Hank's desk, Connor stands from where he was currently sat upon the filing cabinet next to Hank's desk. "Detective Y/N-"
"Please just call me Y/N, Connor." You smile warmly, although it retreats off of your face as soon as you look into his warm brown eyes. He seemed... concerned.
"You seemed like something was bothering you in Fowler's office - did he disapprove of your work today?" He looked back over his shoulder. "If so, I must explain to him of his mistake - your work was more than satisfactory although we learnt very little."
"No, no... Connor it's fine. He's pleased." Connor's hand still gripped your shoulder tightly. "Just some... bad memories came back to me."
Connor's face falls. "Oh."
The unimaginably irritating itch of temptation at the back of your mind forces you to speak. "Could you... possibly do me a favour?" You cross your arms shyly across your stomach, clutching your files for dear life - all for the sake of comfort from embarrassment. Connor inclines his head to say he's listening. "Could you search for a British model android with the serial number #243 515 196 - 97, an AF200?"
Connor pauses, and you spot the disk upon the side of his head buffer yellow.
To your surprise, it then flashes briefly red, then returns to blue. "That model is still in existence, however it's face was severely damaged recently and due to its age, its due to be destroyed very soon. It's over 20 years old." He states.
"Is there any way I could purchase it? Even from Detroit?"
"You would have to go to a CyberLife store... or..."
Connor pauses yet again, for longer, this time. Your eyes turn tearfully hopeful. "I could place the order for you. Would you like that?"
You can't say yes quick enough. "Oh, Connor! Thank you so much!" You throw your bag onto the closest desk and proceed to then throw yourself onto Connor, wrapping your arms around his core tightly.
A brief hug, but the warmth and gratitude within it sent Connor's software instability soaring as he scanned the rate of your heartbeat and the rush of blood to your cheeks. You let go of him quickly and then pat down your coat awkwardly. "Heh, uh, sorry. I got... kind of excited."
Connor smiled a little, and your heart warmed then melted. "No problem."
You pick up your bag and forcefully shove the reports back in, giving Connor an awkward smile. "I can't thank you enough."
You turn to leave, but then realise something important.
"Wait- how much was he? And the shipping costs?!"
Your panic was frightful and you fumbled the hair pin in your fingers, dropping it. You rushed to pick it back up, and a human hand reached down to pick you up from your inelegant tendencies. "C'mon, Y/N. Get up, and stop faffing. We'll sort the costs."
Your face turns baffled. "Are you drunk? They're expensive as fuck! I can't let you pay that!" You point at the older man, who for once smiles warmly at you. It's a strange feeling. You look over at the detective android, and he smiles too. Maybe it was protocol, but you didn't care. "You guys are insane. I gotta get home before my dog gets too restless. Doesn't like it when I'm out to late - gets her stressed." You wink at the two figures and quickly regain your calm, steeled nature. "See you tomorrow?"
"Sure, Y/N." Hank calls, picking up a bottle of alcohol and swigging it unashamedly.
You leave the building with an overjoyed bounce in your step, which turned into a ecstatic walk, into a jubilant jog to a euphoric sprint to your apartment.
"Lieutenant Anderson?"
"Yes, Connor?"
"When you said we'd sort the costs, did you realise it cost $10,000 dollars to ship a pre-existing android half across the world? Not to mention the repair costs to the android? What about the actual price of the android?"
Hank spits out his drink onto his paperwork.
"What the fuck, Connor?! Couldn't you have said something sooner?!"
