Chapter Text
Before the revolution, Connor and RK900 barely acknowledged each other's presence. Gavin vividly remembers the day RK900 confidently strolled into the precinct, hands folded behind his back, introducing himself as the prototype upgrade... for the prototype detective android. The aforementioned detective android barely reacted to the arrival of his upgrade, even when Anderson teasingly elbowed him and asked whether Cyberlife would be providing phone upgrades too.
Gavin also vividly remembers his own profane (and maybe childish) outburst as soon as he found that the new android was stationed to work at the desk directly across from his own. He had seriously wondered whether Fowler was trying to get him to quit.
Despite their differences, Gavin and RK900 soon learned to tolerate, and maybe even enjoy, each other's company. Unfortunately, the same could not be said for RK900 and his predecessor. Their relationship was cold— standoffish, at best.
At least, that's what the DPD thought.
JANUARY 23, 2039
2 MONTHS AFTER THE ANDROID REVOLUTION
Gavin groaned as he stepped into the bullpen and saw RK900– now called Nines– already sitting at his desk, absorbed in a manila file packed with creased, yellowing papers.
"Seriously, Nines?" The detective snapped, "It's not even 7 yet. How the fuck do you always get here before me?"
Without looking up from the file, the android replied, "I live 5 minutes closer to the precinct than you do. I track your smartphone and leave at the same time as you to ensure that I arrive first."
Gavin snorted and picked up the steaming cup of coffee which was placed on the center of his desk. "Hey, if you wanna go through all that trouble just to make sure I get my caffeine in the morning, be my guest."
The LED spun yellow for a moment, then Nines nodded, and it returned to blue. "Noted."
Reed finally took a seat and just sat there for a moment, watching Nines read. What the hell was he doing with all those papers anyway? Everything the DPD needed was online now. He proceeded to voice this thought aloud, while leaning forward to pluck the folder straight from the RK900's hands.
Nines glowered at the now empty space between his hands. "I was reading that," he said, not bothering to keep the irritation out of his tone.
"Well I'm reading it now," Gavin snarked back, flipping through the papers. "What's the point of looking at cold cases? It's a waste of time, half these witnesses are probably six feet under by now."
The android mimicked Gavin's earlier movement, flinging half his body over the desk to snatch the file back. He carefully arranged the papers back in perfect order, making sure the edges all lined up. "These are not on any online database, so I must manually add the content to my personal memory. You never know when we may need this information, Detective Reed."
"Yeah, like the Detroit McDonalds robbery of 1994 will ever help us solve a homicide case in 2039," Gavin scoffed, crossing his arms.
Nines didn't respond, continuing to review his precious manila folder. Gavin shook his head and booted up his terminal.
They sat in comfortable silence for a while, occasionally greeting the officers and detectives who slowly began to fill the precinct.
Then, the strangest thing occurred. At 10am, on the dot, Anderson and his plastic prick sauntered into the station— completely casual, as if Anderson wasn't a chronic drinker who had to be threatened with unemployment to get him to work at a decent hour.
"Good morning Lieutenant Anderson," Nines greeted politely.
"Mornin'," Hank returned with a small wave.
"Do my eyes deceive me?" Gavin taunted, as the pair settled at their desks. "The Lieutenant and his plastic poodle, actually at work on time like the rest of us! Was the liquor store closed last night, Anderson? Or did you finally get the alarm clock on your tin-can to work?"
"Fuck off," Hank growled, while Connor just frowned at Reed, who raised his eyebrows as if challenging the android to say something.
The RK800 ignored the dare and his eyes eventually slid from Gavin to Nines. They locked gazes, exchanging only nods. Then they both went back to whatever they were doing.
The entire "interaction" piqued Gavin's interest.
"Y'know, Nines," He started, leaning forward, "For two toasters who led a revolution together, you and Connor don't seem to like each other that much. Which, now that I think about it, is actually kinda understandable, since he's an asshole."
Nines' eyes snapped up to meet Gavin's. "Connor is not an asshole," He replied, sounding almost affronted by the thought.
"He attacked me in the evidence room."
Nines' eyes narrowed. "You were trying to shoot him."
Gavin winced. He and Nines had never talked about that... incident before. It made him uncomfortable, knowing that Nines knew Gavin would've gladly thrown Connor's deactivated corpse into an incinerator, no questions asked.
Before the revolution, obviously.
"Anyway, how would you know whether he's an asshole or not? You've never talked to him."
"We talk."
Gavin rolled his eyes. "Uh, no. Little nods in passing doesn't really count as talking."
The RK900 looked genuinely confused at this point. He tilted his head a bit, staring intensely at Gavin like he was trying to analyze the components of his shampoo.
"We talk."
"You got a glitch or something? You just said that."
"My processors are running under optimal conditions, but thank you for asking," Nines said dryly. "You don't seem to understand what I mean by 'talk.' Connor and I do not communicate verbally. Instead, we use a secure mental channel to exchange ideas."
Gavin scowled at him. "The fuck...? Like telepathy?"
"Yes, that would be an appropriate comparison," RK900 replied with a nod.
"What the shit?!" Gavin cried, loud enough that several officers turned in his direction. He jerked away from the desk, his nose scrunching up in disgust. "You creepy motherfuckers have been on some— some— Professor X shit without the rest of us knowing?!"
"I don't see why this is an issue. Every android has this feature. Connor and I simply find it more efficient to communicate non-verbally, which is how Cyberlife designed it." Nines' voice was perfectly even. Gavin could tell that the android sincerely did not understand why he was angry, which made Gavin even angrier.
"This whole time, I thought you and I were on the same page about Connor! But apparently you two were having little tea parties in your head while I looked like an oblivious dumbass!" Reed fumed.
"Well," Nines retorted, "It's not my fault you never asked me of my opinion. I am not programmed to lie without reason, Detective. You looking like an oblivious dumbass is no one's fault but your own."
That gave Gavin a pause. Shit, he never asked how Nines felt, did he? He deflated a bit, looking pointedly away from Nines. But, because he had a reputation as a dickhead to uphold, he continued, "That doesn't change the fact that it's weird and creepy for you two to have secret conversations in front of everyone. From now on, none of that twin telepathy shit."
Now the android started to look angry. His voice never wavered, though, when he calmly said, "Unless my memory cache is corrupted, I seem to remember a revolution which ended with humans being forbidden to treat androids like slaves anymore."
"I'm not treating you like a slave, you fucking drama queen," Gavin hissed, at the exact moment that Connor happened to be passing his desk. He paused, his eyes flickering between Gavin's red-faced expression and RK900's bright yellow LED.
Great, now he was going to be written up for hate speech.
But Connor just tilted his head and asked, "Is there anything I can help with?"
"No," Nines said, at the same time Gavin answered, "Yes."
Connor hesitated, probably regretting his act of good will. Before Nines could give Connor a "non-verbal" heads up to get lost, Gavin blurted, "Stop with the fucking note passing," while gesturing vaguely around his temple.
The androids exchanged a look. He suspected that Nines was explaining in techno-speak what Gavin was trying to say. Connor, face completely blank, finally responded after a moment, "May I ask why, Detective?"
"Well," Reed said smugly, suddenly knowing how he could win this, "I think it would help you integrate with humans better. I mean, it would certainly put me at ease if I saw you two talking like normal people."
Connor's LED spun yellow for a brief second, then he nodded. "I was unaware this made humans uncomfortable. Thank you for the advice. I'm sure RK900 and I will have no problem adjusting our communication parameters. Is that alright with you, Nines?"
Nines glared at a still-smug Gavin even as he curtly nodded at Connor, who smiled widely.
"I'm glad we could work this issue out. I have to get back to my case now, but I'll see you both around."
"See you around, buddy!" Gavin called, mockingly cheerful, to Connor's retreating form. He then spun his chair to look at Nines, but his shit-eating grin quickly fell when he saw the murderous expression the android was leveling at him.
Trying to cover up the chill he felt when faced with the full force of Nines' glare, Gavin rolled his eyes. "What's got your Cyberlife panties in a bunch? Connor didn't seem to care that much."
"You used his programming against him," Nines accused. His expression didn't soften. In fact, Gavin swore that Nines had purposely stopped blinking just to intimidate him.
"So what? Does that really surprise you?" Gavin replied flatly.
Nines eyed him a few seconds longer, then shifted his gaze to his computer. "No," he said coldly, "I suppose it doesn't."
Gavin huffed and looked away. He had gotten what he wanted, so why did it feel so bittersweet?