Chapter Text
To say that counting for Mickey was as easy as breathing would be a lie. Mickey didn't know how to breathe and he certainly didn't need it. Counting for him was easy because it was easy. They made him that way and for a long time it had been all he was. A counting machine. It took him several upgrades and the affection a person could bestow on an old but reliable car to be recognized as something more. Sometimes Terry's own sons would treat him as their smart brother, asking him for advice they never ended up following, or for clients would mistake him for a paid regular employee, even if for just a second. Luckily for him, Terry had never let him forget who he was and what his only purpose at his establishment was. Not once. Yet it was mainly because of him that he had become aware of how different he was from the others.
"Mickey, Svetlana's translator stopped working again."
That platinum hair punk Cole didn't even bother knocking and just opened the door to his office informing him of the situation at hand.
Mickey rolled his eyes. A movement that took a long time to emulate and master and that humans found comical and endearing, like a circus bear on a ball.
"Again? Can't Terry pay for something better than that crap?"
Cole shrugged. He hadn't needed to learn that movement. Sassiness and flirtiness came with his package. "He said Ain't paying for something worth more than her cheap ass ."
Right.
Svetlana had been an outdated model even before Terry had bought her at the black market. And that was twenty-five years ago. Made in Russia, she actually needed a translator implant for her to be understood. Unfortunately, good translators were expensive, and the one she had would function so and so even on its best days.
"Ugh, just zip it with the voice emulator. It's creepy."
"Patrons find it funny. Not that you'd know what funny is, bitch."
Mickey scoffed. Not that Cole would know it either. Terry's new acquisition was relatively young and all he knew about sarcasm and laughter was gathered by mere observation. Watch and repeat. Cole talked a lot, but he didn't really understand 'funny'.
"Whatever. Svetlana's speaking Russian again, Terry hasn't approved the expense for a new translator. What does it have to do with me?”
"Terry wants you to call the Gallagher boy. The ginger fuck ."
"Oh, just stop!” Mickey groaned at hearing Terry-like voice.
Cole laughed and left the room. Okay. Maybe he did understand funny, he was just a little shit.
Mickey couldn't understand for the life of him why he had to call Gallagher. He was supposed to be the accountant and yet sometimes he felt like Terry's glorified assistant, advisor and nanny.
Yet grumbling was of no use when no one else but him was present in the room.
He called.
After just one ring, a woman's voice responded.
"Gallagher Robotics inc. Enhancements and repairs for androids. This is Debbie speaking, how may I help you?”
It was truly baffling how a firm that specialized in androids had a human being for a receptionist. But Mickey knew the Gallagher family. It consisted of a bunch of siblings who had all chipped in in a way or another for the flourishing of the company. If he wasn't wrong - and he wasn't, his memory was perfect - Debbie was the youngest sister.
"Mickey here. Get me your stupid brother."
He heard her chuckle. Even though there was more than a brother working there, Mickey would call to enquire after only one of them. "Sure thing, Mickey."
Mickey had to wait a couple seconds listening to an upbeat song, when Ian Gallagher took the call.
"Hey, Mick!” Ian greeted with his stupid cheerful voice. "I thought I gave you my personal number, you don't need to go through Debs everytime."
"You did. I don't care," Mickey replied drily, obtaining a groan from Ian. "It's a work related call, I used your work number."
"So when are you going to call me for a non work related call on my personal number?”
"Never."
He could practically imagine Ian's pouty expression, he'd display it on his face everytime Mickey would shoot down all his efforts at being friendly.
"Oh, Mickey…" Ian sighed loudly. "So, what can I do you for?”
"Svetlana's translator doesn't work. Again. I thought you fixed it last time."
"I fixed what I could. That thing is older than I am, it should be replaced."
"Then you give it to us for free."
Ian chuckled. "Good try, but even your immense charm can't get you a translator for free. I'll see if I can find an old or used one here, it would be always better than the archeological piece she has now."
"Alright, make it quick," Mickey said.
"Hey I'm trying to do you a favor here!”
"We close at two, you better come before then or nobody's opening the door for you."
Mickey closed the call before Ian could reply. Goodbyes were useless.
He finished inputting the final numbers in and he was done for the night. Everything was accounted for and the money laundering had been laundered. It didn't really take much for him to do it. He had been created to be an accountant, an expensive computer. He had been the only android Terry had actually splurged some money on, and not only when he had first bought him, but also thanks to numerous upgrades and enhancements. He had had to. A computer is only efficient as long as the numbers it needs to process are clear. And legal . Terry needed a computer that could be flexible, creative. He basically needed something that could think like a shrewd human while being able to process data like a computer. Mickey had been his bet and he hadn't disappointed yet.
Being able to do his job in such little time, it was no wonder Terry would also use him as a secretary and it was of common knowledge that Mickey would run things at the establishment when Terry wasn't around. Also when he was around. The man had other things to do than caring for his own androids. Him being around for Svetlana's little mishap had been a mere coincidence. If he could, he'd spend all his time drinking and shooting his firearms. And he did.
Mickey left his office and was greeted by the smell of sweat and sex, which he decided to simply turn off, like he could do with any other of his senses. Not for the first time he thought that smelling was something he could totally do without. Right in that moment, he could also do without the hearing. He had never been too fond of moans and screams and loud music.
Unlucky for him, working at a nightclub kind of forced him to bear with it and he'd just focus on his duties.
Terry was gone and all the sex androids but Svetlana's were accounted for, either dancing and giggling or entertaining their customers. Mickey found Cole who was just coming out of one of the little rooms where they would service their clients, his golden eyes shining brightly in the dim light of the narrow aisle.
"Move, bitch. Mama needs to fix her make-up. The pig in there was nasty!” the blond motioned his hands to gesture towards the bathroom.
"Where Svetlana?” Mickey asked.
"In the back," Cole replied. "Poor girl, she's not gonna get her orgasms tonight."
Orgasms. As If Mickey knew what they were. Well, he knew what they were, technically speaking. But apart from that, Mickey was completely in the dark. He hadn't been created for sex.
"The fuck do I care?"
Cole grinned. His already ridiculously high cheekbones rising even higher. "You should. Orgasms are good for your skin, that's why mine is flawless."
"Your skin - and mine- are flawless because they are synthetic, you dumb fuck," Mickey said.
Cole did not look impressed. He was a sex android through and through. Fucking was what he was born to do and he enjoyed it. He was new enough even though his model was cheap, and as any new generation android, he was head over heels for any customer of his, eager to satisfy them in any possible way. Mickey found it horrifying.
"Whatever," Cole said, nonplussed. With a swift moment he moved past him and went to the bathroom. Mickey didn't need to know what the fucker needed to wash after his performance.
He sighed and went to the bar to wait for Ian. He had nothing left to do for the night and he might as well catch up with the barman slash Terry's youngest son.
"Hey, Mickey. Done for the night?" Iggy asked. He was pouring the gin Tanqueray in a tall glass.
"Not quite. I'm waiting for Gallagher for Svetlana's problem." There was no customer at the bar, so Mickey could speak freely. The sandy hair man nodded.
"You asked for Ian, right. Pops gonna get pissed if the Half one comes."
"Of course I asked for Ian, who do you take me for," Mickey said and propped himself up on one of the barstools.
Iggy chuckled. He finished the garnishing of the drink with a lemon peel to enhance the citrus taste of the gin tonic. "I know. You're the best. And, since you're the best, would you mind bringing this to Mr Lishman?"
Mickey arched one eyebrow. He had learnt over the years how much a simple eyebrow raising could convey many words. In that particular case, the unspoken words were "The fuck do you take me for. I ain't a fucking waiter and we all know Lewd Lloyd likes to grope."
Iggy responded with a grin. ”Hopefully he'll close the tab for tonight and leave. Please Mick, do it for your favourite person in the whole world. I'm tired."
Truth was, Mickey actually liked Iggy. Iggy had always treated him well and he had never been demeaning or abusive towards him or any other android. He was a good guy who had the bad luck of having been born in the Milkovich household.
"You're not," Mickey said, but without bite. He sighed. "Alright shithead, but you better hope he doesn't do anything stupid or I'mma kicking his ass."
"I'll be there with you if that happens." Iggy nodded and placed the drink on a tray. "Thank you, bro."
Mickey directed himself towards the lounge.
He was aware of how he looked. He was dressed too toned down for being a Sex A, but his unnatural bright blue eyes were unmistakable. Plus he was aware he was not bad looking, living and working at a nightclub kind of taught him so. Dark hair, pale skin; he wasn't tall but he was toned and his facial features were pleasant enough for people to dare touching his ass. Which apparently was his 'strong suit', as they would say.
No matter what, Mickey was untouchable, and if customers started to become too handsy, he was allowed to beat them up. Within reasons.
He found Lewd Lloyd at one of the more secluded booths, ogling without shame at an employee dancing on the pole. He had the nerve to smile lasciviously at Mickey when he noticed him.
"You, serving me. The night has just become sweeter," the old fucker said.
"A real pleasure Mr Lishman," Mickey replied, trying to hold his sarcasm in. Sarcasm, irony and whatnot were features Terry hadn't meant to give him with the enhancements, but there they were anyway. Born out of evolution and years of dealing with the patrons.
The man had the audacity of caressing his hand when Mickey offered him the gin tonic. "Please, Mickey. I told you to call me Ned."
"I'm not one of the twinks here. I'm not going to call you Ned." Or 'daddy', as he knew Lewd Lloyd wanted to be called sometimes. Twinks liked to gossip.
"You're such a downer, my dear Mickey," Lishman said, pouting. He looked hideous. "But it's alright, next time."
Mickey didn't even bother to reply.
"This is the last drink. Close the tab and go home to your wife and kids."
He didn't wait for a reply and went back to the bar.
It seemed his wait had ended, because Ian Gallagher was already there with a smile on his face that went up to his eyes. Mickey didn't know why he always felt the urge to punch him in the mug.
"Hey," the redhead greeted him.
"Cheerful as always I see," Mickey said. He looked away from that ball of happiness to hand the tray back to Iggy.
"Only when I see you," Ian replied, earning a chuckle from the barman. Ian grinned. "Also when I see you, Iggy. The cutest Milkovich I have ever seen."
Iggy flipped him. The other man laughed.
"Want to see Svetlana? You know, the reason why you're here?" Mickey interrupted. He didn't like that light banter between the two. He found it stupid and, frankly, without purpose.
Both guys didn't seem offended by Mickey's rudeness. Ian refocused his attention on him and smiled. "Of course. Lead the way."
Mickey brought him to the back of the establishment, where Svetlana had been sitting for a few hours. She had her eyes closed, sign that she had shut herself down and she was currently recharging. Only her and a couple other employees still had to charge themselves with a plug-in. She was that old.
"Svetlana? Ian's here," Mickey said, prompting the ginoid to wake up.
"наконец!” she said. Having known her for a long time, it could probably mean either 'it was time' or 'fuck off'. One could never truly know with her.
"Yeah. Ian is going to fix you up," he said, closing the door behind him. Ian was waving at her and said "herпривет", which even Mickey knew meant 'hello' by now. She raised her middle finger. That gesture had a universal meaning.
"Ну, тогда давай уже, мне пора вернуться к работе." Svetlana stood up. She was several inches taller than Mickey, that fucking synthetic giraffe. She also had a very bad attitude, maybe in Russia they liked their androids like that. Truth was, she had many regulars who would only come to the brothel for her, those poor fuckers.
Ian took a small object from his doctor's bag.
"Look what I found, Lana." He held it in front of her. By the looks of it it was another translator. Slightly chipped but otherwise in good condition. "It's not brand new. Well, maybe it's not even relatively new. And it's used… but! It's better than the one you have, of that I'm pretty sure. Can I see yours?”
He tapped on the left side of his head to make her understand and she clicked on her left temple, rotating and extracting her implant. It was bigger than the one Ian had, but it had the same brand on it.
"Just like I remembered," Ian said, inspecting the older model. "We should be good. Let's try it."
Mickey stopped him by grabbing him by the arm. He needed a confirmation first. "Just wait a second. We need to be clear here. We're paying you the amount we would have if you had fixed the old one, not a cent more."
Ian nodded, his eyes lowered to Mickey's hand on him. "Believe me. The price for this is way less than fixing that crap. It would take a miracle to make it work again since it's burned. I'll charge you the usual fee."
Satisfied, Mickey lifted his hand. "Good, just wanted to make sure."
It didn't take much for Ian to put the 'new' implant into place. The thing just clicked in its place. It took more time to fill the gap left by the bigger implant with a synthetic foam that hardened in a matter of a couple minutes. Then Ian promptly smoothed it down to make it indistinguishable on her skin. It looked way better than the implant sticking out of her temple all the time.
"Good job, doctor," Mickey said.
Svetlana nodded after a few seconds. "Yes. Good job orange boy."
Her voice sounded strange and unfamiliar, but at least she was comprehensible once again.
"Hey, your accent is gone!” Ian exclaimed. As if he didn't know that she had never had an accent but simply her previous implant made her voice sound slow and husky.
"You go now. I go back to work," she responded.
"You better hurry up then, we close in less than an hour," Mickey informed. She nodded and, without so much as a thank you, she left the room. Mickey followed her suit.
Ian emerged from the room a few minutes later and found Mickey at the bar.
"Hey done already? You tech wiz," Iggy said. "Whiskey as usual?”
"Sure, thanks." Ian nodded. "But the tech wiz is actually my brother."
Iggy scoffed. "That might be, but ever since he charged us triple what you usually do, pops made it clear that he's not welcome here anymore. Pesh… how do you say, Mick? That ancient latin shit you taught me."
"It looks like I didn't teach you enough. Persona non grata," Mickey supplied. Sometimes it was hard to be the most knowledgeable person in the room. Iggy was a big hearted person, but he wasn't the sharpest tool in the shed. Ian, on the other hand, was more than just a beautiful, freckled face. He would always play down his role at the company but he was a co-founder and really the heart that kept it together.
"That's it. Persona non grata," Iggy repeated with a horrible pronunciation. "So yeah, you are our tech wiz."
"Well, thank you," Ian said, raising the glass Iggy had just poured with middle shelf whiskey. "Sorry about my brother. He's not good at sales, he doesn't know what to charge customers to keep them happy."
Ian had stolen a glance at Mickey while talking. Mickey raised his brow, not understanding the slightly guilty expression Ian had sported.
"And you do. You make pops happy, everybody is happy," Iggy convened. "Now excuse me, I'm going to go force Lewd Lloyd to close the fucking tab."
With a sigh, Iggy left them to get a half drunk always horny old fuck to get lost. He knew by experience how hard it could be.
Mickey followed Iggy with his eyes. Lloyd had an employee sitting on his thigh while he was conversing with Iggy. The android looked like he was enjoying being groped by the old geezer. Sex androids were really strange fuckers.
"What are you thinking?” he heard Ian asking behind him. Mickey turned back, facing the redhead.
"None of your business."
"Sex androids really like everyone," Ian commented, causing Mickey to arch both his eyebrows because, damn, that's what he was thinking. "But while that feature was implemented in them to gratify the humans so nothing could burst their bubble of illusion, at the same time it helped the Sex As to enjoy their work and have a happy life."
"Thank you for the lesson in androids history I already knew and didn't care about," Mickey said. Ian chuckled. The android noticed the laugh was forced.
"You're welcomed, but…" Ian stretched his arm behind the counter and grabbed the bottle of whiskey that was still there. He poured himself another glass. "I don't know. It just had me thinking. Have you ever wondered what it's like?”
"What is?”
Ian gulped the glass down. There was no doubt. Ian was nervous, but Mickey couldn't understand why and that prompted him to wait for Ian to explain himself.
"Sex."
That was it?
"I know sex," Mickey said. He had seen plenty of it. More than he would've liked to. He lived in a fucking brothel, he knew more about sex than the average human and certainly more than any other android not built for sex purposes.
"Sure. But do you know sex?” Ian asked again, emphasizing the word 'know'. "I mean it. You never had sex, you never had an orgasm, you only know what you've heard and saw."
And there it was. A smug expression on that freckled face. It always had the effect of pissing Mickey off.
"So what." Mickey nodded towards the sex android next to Lishman. "Dolls only know fucking and they have plenty of orgasms. I wouldn't trade places with them for the world."
"Totally understand," Ian convened. "But, you know, don't you think that you'd be more complete if you could have the ability to feel pleasure? I know you're already awesome but wouldn't you like to have something more?”
Mickey could now recognize the tone of voice the redhead was taking. It was the sales pitch one that Ian would always use when he wanted to sell them something they did not ask for.
"Okay. I'll save you some time and tell you: whatever you are trying to sell me, you should ask Terry first. And he'll probably tell you to fuck off. You know he doesn't like extras he doesn't specifically request."
The redhead appeared undeterred. He leaned him and whispered
"Even if this is only for you?”
Mickey stilled for a second. Not so much for the words, but rather for the way Ian had said them. So close to his ear, so much so that he felt his breath on his skin. Mickey felt a shiver, which was weird, he wasn't cold.
"Especially if only for me," Mickey said.
"Mickey…" Ian said, still so close to him. Mickey leaned back a little. "I think it's not fair that you're the only android in this place that doesn't have fun. Nowadays more and more droids not made for sex can still enjoy it. It's only an enhancement, not too dissimilar to the ones you already had. You would basically be able to feel sexual desire, be hard and have an orgasm. Plus it comes with a major sensorial upgrade in your case, since Terry never bothered with that."
Mickey wanted to make him stop talking. Why would Ian even try to pitch it to him? Mickey had never really desired to have sex, but he couldn't say he wasn't curious about it. Yet, being able to have an orgasm wasn't exactly something that Terry was dying for Mickey to have. It was stupid of Ian to offer him something he couldn't have.
"It doesn't have anything to do with accounting or running a business, you can ask Terry but we already know the answer," Mickey tried to feign disinterest.
"That's why I am asking you."
Mickey would've laughed in his face, but Ian seemed serious.
"You're asking me," he repeated.
Ian nodded. "Yeah."
"You are aware that Terry's the one who pays for his androids, right?”
"He won't need to know if it's free of charges."
This time it was Mickey's turn to laugh. "There's no fucking way that that kind of enhancement is free."
Ian shrugged. Even if he was keeping the expression on his face neutral, Mickey could detect Ian's heartbeat going at a faster rate than usual. He was lying.
"You're lying," Mickey said.
Ian seemed to think about whether to tell him the truth or not. "Alright," he said. "Yes, it's not free. Usually. But I got one as a tester and I thought that I could ask you to try it."
Mickey didn't say anything, so Ian continued.
"Terry doesn't need to know, we could just meet once outside and-"
"No," Mickey said. Ian didn't even seem to hear him and continued.
"It's not quick but it can be done in just one session-"
"I said no!" Mickey half shouted half whispered. He had seen Iggy coming back with a drunk Lishman leaning on his shoulder. He wouldn't have Iggy listening to Ian's nonsense. He himself didn't want to listen to that.
Going behind Terry's back. Meeting with Ian. Having a useless enhancement installed.
For what, anyway.
Mickey was an accountant. He ran a business. He had spent thirty years of taking shit in order to be treated differently than the usual android. He had found a place.
What was Ian even suggesting?
Before Ian could say something more, Iggy called him.
"Hey Ian! C'mon, help me here!”
Ian looked unsure about what to do. He opened his mouth to say something to Mickey but the android took that as a hint to leave the room.
He didn't look back and closed the door of his office without looking back.