There is a touching solidarity within the police. Policemen were human beings who had affinities, of course, but camaraderie always swept the subjectivity: to cope with the hatred of the uniform and the grueling daily, the police station of Detroit counted welded teams, always voluntary to help each other.

Then Tina Chen had agreed to replace Gavin for the interrogation. The lawyer had not looked on this change with a favorable eye, but the officer did not care. Her young age did not prevent her from extracting information on the traffic organized by Joyce Stace and the Adelbert brothers. The irony was that the men were in favor for the chemical castration, maybe even the hanging by the testicles, but if these freaks were calming down on machines and there was enough money to earn, the ideals of this trio then adapted to vices. They would never see where the harm was in the chain they had launched, like a large part of the Detroit population, but they could betray some clients to ease the sentences. And the case would be tricky to bring to court if there were no human children involved, but at least the Fathia killer would be brought up for immediate trial.

Chris Miller also agreed to play along when Gavin Reed told him at the end of a hallway that the kids had self-destructed. The detective said that he had to shoot down the last ZK200, which had become completely crazy. The coincidences seemed odd to Chris, but he remembered the deviant android that stabbed its owner and smashed its own head against the interrogation room table last year, so he did not ask any questions. But half-heartedly, he murmured:

"Poor kids— maybe that's better for them."

The policeman had never condemned the suicidal gesture, because this desperate act carried a personal and private pain, inaccessible to others. Even the machines had the right to give up: no one would support them in this world, the compassionate tears of the police would not bring them anything, and the CyberLife labs would not have comforted them.

Yes, even if that decision had hurt him, Gavin did not regret having followed his partner. But they needed time to recover, so while Chris Miller, on the ground floor, greeted the CyberLife representative and apologized, the detective and the RK900 were resting for a few more moments upstairs. In this room so narrow, they were sitting on the floor, leaning against one of the cold walls without shudder: against each other, they were ignoring the cool plaster varnish. The nascent character of the RK900 was also accompanied by habits that put down roots, such as to hide its face near Gavin's neck, adoring this scent of cedar. Under the gray light, Gavin was exhausted, insensitive to the rain that hit the window. He clutched the android against him, remembering how those cold eyes had shed tears: no suffocation, no sigh, the tears had passed without any other sign of sadness. But for an android, it was already a lot. And each time he heard the sound of plastic bursts, Gavin tightened his embrace.

"Why do deviants commit suicide so easily?"

"Because emotions scare us. It's frightening to lose control when you're used to control everything."

The answer was both logical and terrifying.

"Have you ever thought about self-destructing yourself?"

"Not by myself: at first, I knew that I had to be disabled if I didn't obey my priority functions anymore. But I never thought of self-destruct myself." Conrad straightened its face to gaze at Gavin. "Unlike the ZK200s, detective, I became deviant thanks to several emotions. They became deviant because they only knew fear and disgust."

Despite its short existence, Conrad came to believe that there may be several forms of deviance: the RK200 Markus had not shed blood and showed no sign of violence in leading its revolution, contradicting the unpredictability of the deviants relayed by the media. Conrad did not know how to explain this peaceful choice, but it proved that deviances were declined in several attitudes.

"If you weren't present or if you were wicked, maybe I would have killed myself. But you're present and I've no desire to disappear."

"Finally, we aren't really different," admitted Gavin, "I never thought of committing suicide. But with all that happened, if you hadn't been there, I might have reconsidered the option." Sometimes he really wondered how he was doing to manage to survive. "Or I just really want to break everyone's balls before my last bow."

Conrad allowed itself to laugh, approving that purpose of life. It wondered if an existence was necessarily associated with a goal or whether it could let itself be carried into its future, hosting simple events, such as solving inquiries and falling in love with Gavin. Carelessness, however, troubled by waves of doubt, and the android feared that these simple swirls become devastating waves, even alongside Gavin.

"Come on, if we stay here for too long, it'll really become suspicious."

One knee on the ground, the assistant sent by CyberLife looked at the broken bodies lying around him. It would be a hell of a mess to clean. With a gloved hand, he released some pieces of plastic but the components were totally destroyed. With a frown, the spokesperson wondered how the ZK200s could have been destroyed as well. The instinct of madness perhaps, the desire to die. The last one had two bullets in the skull.

"When we got there, he was the last on," Miller lied, "we had to disable him that way because he became dangerous."

"Who turned it off?"

Detective Reed arrived at that time, closely followed by the RK900. The android would have liked to identify as guilty but its partner spoke before:

"I did it. We should have been waiting for you, but since last year, we've been a little suspicious of deviants."

The representative welcomed this explanation with a nod. Of a modest size and hard features, Gavin realized afterwards that the man was a woman in fact. The dark-colored tailor mingled with the black skin and the severe mouth supported an ebony gaze. The shaved head and the absence of makeup gave a special look to this woman too strict. The only fantasy lay in the shimmering green scarf tied around her neck. She took off one of the gloves and reached to greet the detective.

"Professor Adanna Bontu."

"Detective Gavin Reed," the policeman noticed the many bracelets under her sleeve. He wondered if these colorful details concealed under the uniform were a reflection of her personality. In any case, she did not try to answer his sly smile, keeping a closed face.

"It's a shame to find the ZK200s in this state. Nobody had thought to turn them off before putting them in the room with convictions?"

"We're police officers, Professor Bontu, not technicians. And we don't count any enthusiasts for your company in the team, so we didn't check if your androids were off or not."

Adanna Bontu stared at the RK900 behind and a first grin appeared.

"Does your new leg work properly, Conrad?"

Of course: Conrad was the only RK900 and the android Chloe had recorded their visit, the link was obvious. Gavin felt like he was dealing with possessive parents and did not like that welcoming tone, wondering what it was hiding. The robot kept a mechanical calm and it politely confirmed:

"Everything works perfectly since the repairs."

"I'm happy to hear it."

The representative turned her attention to the detective, the tip of the index finger tapping the commissure of the lips:

"All the formalities had been completed but you didn't answer the satisfaction survey. Conrad's a new prototype and you're his only partner: your answers are important to us."

Gavin felt he could not escape. He invited the professor to follow him down the hall to get to the surface of the police station: the sight of these children was becoming too difficult. While walking, the representative pointed out that Gavin's rank was lower than the one to which the RK900 was to be awarded.

"That would explain that the experience isn't satisfactory."

In fact, your prototype perfectly understood the mechanism of blow-job and managed to reproduce it the first time, so the experience is downright satisfactory, but it was an answer that the detective had to keep for him. Unfortunately, because it would have been funny

"The fact that I'm only a detective isn't a problem: I work very well with your prototype, the proof being that we're dismantling a network of pedophiles. Besides, if you want a frank opinion: he's much better than his predecessor."

A compliment that touched Conrad, but in the presence of Adanna, it had to remain insensitive.

"The RK800's social program was a total failure," said the CyberLife spokesperson, "we've started from scratch for the RK900. It was a risk, that said."

"What do you mean?"

"Have you noticed any problem with the RK900?"

"Apart from the leg he lost?"

"In its personality and its reactions."

Gavin kept his calm: betraying Conrad, it was sending it to be recycled. To destroy this RK900 was to kill the deviant who wanted to exist. To separate from this android was to lose a reassuring presence. The question sounded like a trap and the secrets made him paranoid.

"No. What exactly are you thinking of? I'm not a technician, you know, so when he has a bug, I don't know all the impact that it can have."

"I was thinking of reactions that might reflect emotions."

"I didn't notice anything: he's a machine, the concept of emotions must be abstract, right?"

The woman sighed, lowering her face.

"So the RK900 too is a failure—"

Gavin jumped: this statement sounded like a death sentence.

"No! I meant that he couldn't feel, but his social program simulates emotions."

"It works well," confirmed Chris Miller who was behind, following this clumsy exchange. "He adapts to situations perfectly: he doesn't smile on a crime scene, for example, only when he listens to the jokes of one of our officers."

Conrad kept a peaceful attitude, as deaf to the exchanges that concerned it. Like Gavin, it did not know the purpose of these questions: its social program had developed beyond what was planned. Its reactions and expressions were no longer analyzes of situations: they were spontaneous and honest. And the representative of CyberLife just watched her attitude.

"Then, are you satisfied with the RK900?"

Chris and Gavin confirmed at the same time.

Chris Miller was perhaps one of the few policemen who had not harbored a visceral hatred of androids despite the tragedy with Lieutenant Anderson. Especially since he remembered the android that had spared him one snowy night: the leader named Markus had calmed the anger of its fellows and had been lenient with the young father, saving his life. So when Hank had committed suicide, Chris had mostly felt sorry and did not think about the role of the RK800. If there was a police officer who had not participated, even less approved the persecution of the RK900, it was Chris Miller. Fleeing conflict, advised by his shyness, the young man had kept his support for androids secret. With the ZK200s case, Detroit was going to change and Chris would be there to help the robots, starting with Conrad.

"I don't work with the RK900, but I've never heard Detective Reed complaining."

Gavin had to recognize that point.

Adanna Bontu was putting away the gloves, satisfied with these impressions:

"No need to replace your partner, then?"

"No, I keep this one."

There was no doubt in this answer and the envoy gave him a small smile. From her bag, she pulled out a small gray card with the CyberLife logo, which included a phone number and an email address.

"If you've any problem with this model, don't hesitate to contact us."

Since he had no choice but to accept the small plastic rectangle, Gavin thanked the teacher with haste as she left the room. Once cleared of her presence, Chris approached slowly:

"I hope you explain to me what happened in this room one day, Gavin."

"Don't worry, Chris," assured the colleague, grateful, "and thank you, without you, we'd be in deep shit."

"At your service, to you and Conrad."

Despite the pressure, the events unfolded smoothly, arranging the duo. The ZK200 would no longer have to suffer the evil of men and Tina had drawn up a list of names: the promise of anonymity had convinced Joyce Stace to reveal the identity of about fifteen customers. Detective Reed's team would carry out the searches to hand over the case to the Youth Crime Squad, but Fathia's murder remained in the line of duty and Gavin hoped to gather all the elements to make the sentence as heavy as possible.

Of course, the Adelbert brothers did not know that the prostitute had been working with the police for a year. The hate of the police station was palpable at their arrival and despite the presence of lawyers, the detective and his colleagues did not spare the pimps become murderers: if Karl had pressed the trigger, Johann had cut the tattoo that could betray them. What did they do about this piece of skin? They had thrown it into a trash can several blocks away. A lack of respect made Gavin furious.

Two weeks were necessary to complete all the searches. The teams had returned home guts, looking for signs of guilt, and the evidence was accumulating, further disgusting the police. They complained to colleagues who should analyze the child porn videos found, unable to feel happy to have found these elements. The Pedobear's music was not so funny when the bear became real and had a human face.

In these troubles, some colleagues wondered why the RK900 always came back home with its teammate. Details of the case remained to be settled, but everyone was worried that the detective brings too much work home, when in fact the android, just like its teammate, forgot for the evening its role of investigator.

Once the front door closed, there was no prototype or detective. The day was forgotten in favor of the night already installed and the coldness hitting on the windows, unable to touch this strange duet. Gnocchi always welcomed them with a tenderness of worshiper: the fingers in his thick fur, the two partners forgot their daily, spoiling the glad feline friend. The cat was also a pretext to allow the hands to touch, because each contact was still a test for Gavin's pride and Conrad's clumsiness. However, gentleness was established and asserted itself with each approach: the hostility and mistrust had disappeared.

During their postponed evening, when Gavin found the criminal before his partner, the detective's laughter showed no contempt. Leaning against the shoulder of the android, letting the credits scroll, he teased it until Conrad insisted:

"This isn't logical! The clues didn't point to the victim's brother but her husband."

"You're too influenced by statistics that the spouse is often guilty."

"How did you find it was the brother?"

The darkness of the show facilitated the initiatives: the android placed its hand on Gavin's thigh.

"We call it talent, tin can," if the RK900 could not laugh, its amusement was expressed at least through smiles wider and wider, silent compared to the bursts of laugh of his partner. As long as it was sensitive to his humor, Gavin did not ask for more.

"I don't believe you."

"It's because you thought as if it was a real investigation: it's fiction, it was more noticeable if it was her brother instead of the husband, who would have been a culprit too common by the way. You must imagine the most surprising for the viewer."

The RK900 had thought like a machine, rigid logic and down-to-earth. Although deviant, daydreams and the need for fanciful still escaped it, and perhaps they would escape it forever. This thought worried it.

"Why are you shooting such a face? You're a bad loser?"

"No," its LED was red, and to hide it, the android turned its head, "I was wondering if my nature was a problem. I'm a machine and some things will never change: logic, limited emotions— I don't eat, I don't sleep, I don't have family or personal friends, and most places like bars or movie theaters are forbidden to androids."

Conrad approached the source of its partner's doubts: the barriers that would stand between them.

In spite of homebody periods, Gavin loved going out: living in Detroit meant living with the city and enjoying everything it offered. With an android, he could forget about restaurants, weekend trips, movies, presentations with his mother— If its teammate had been human, the detective would not hesitate to send a text the first morning to Tina to say 'hey! I made out with the hottie of the team!', he would have slapped this butt at the police station to laugh or kiss him without worrying about his colleagues, he would have held his hand in the street, would have disputed about the evening menu or the destination of the next vacation. Sushi or pizza, mountain or sea, horror film or comedy— these were choices that did not represent anything for the android that could not participate in these small punctualities of life. Small but so human.

With a curious reflex, Gavin hugged the android against him and, as usual, tried to joke:

"You could have thought about it before telling me that you had a crush on me."

"Because I was convinced that you were going to reject me. I calculated the probabilities and they were ninety-nine percent. I admit that the remaining percent left me hopeful, but the odds were tiny."

"If I had rejected you, you wouldn't have insisted?"

Gavin was surprised: the RK900, however, showed an iron will, as stubborn as a bloodhound obsessed with his target. But the answer was unsure while the android recalculated the probabilities.

"No, because I can't fight against logic, and there is nothing more illogical than the affective relationships between humans and androids. Rejecting me would have been justified. But you've decided otherwise when you should have thought about it too."

"And now, I'm given a roasting!"

"No," Gavin was about to move away, so Conrad held him back, "I'm still a machine and I need information, to know what you want or plan to do. I've so many questions to ask but I don't know if I've the right to do so or if you'll even agree to answer." In the end, whether between the same species or not, relationships always stumbled over doubts at the beginning. Understanding this state of trouble, Gavin was ready to listen to it, feeling also the need to take stock:

"What do you want to know? I don't know if I've the answers, but we can try."

"Are you like that with me because you need comfort right now?"

"I'm not going to lie: having a heating speaking machine is nice," honest and casual, the man did not want to be hurtful, "for all that, I don't fall for the first person who comes along. And before you ask me: yes, you and Fathia are different."

"You continue to invite me, to touch me, does that mean that we're together?"

Wow, the machines were able to ask questions with a brutality that did not bother with qualms! Gavin understood that he should get used to these direct ways.

"I don't know. Hey, don't worry: even between humans, it always takes a long time to decide!"

"Decide because I'm a machine?"

"Are you going to spit that reproach every hour? You think I don't wonder why you fell for me while there're other androids at the police station?"

The tone had begun to rise so they stopped at the same time, recovering. More gently, Conrad confessed:

"I started to feel what's so commonplace for humans, but for a machine, it's really impressive. I think that's why I got closer to you, to your humanity. And because you're well done."

"What?"

"If you were an android, I would say that your creators have put efforts to your body. Even if you are a little skinny right now."

Gavin burst out laughing, feeling that the tensions were disappearing:

"Okay, that's the shittiest compliment ever heard!"

"I really think others are more ridiculous."

"Finally, I understand what you mean: to be honest, the fact that you're a machine bothers me, but at the same time, that's what intrigues me and I think— that I might even like it. I can't stand monotony and I'm quite curious in a way."

The comfort was too thin. Conrad reassured itself that they just needed time. Still, it wondered how many decades had to pass before androids were free to love. If only the world could be summed up in this little dark room where the fingers could knot and the mouths kiss. No judgment, no question: the mind and the silent programs free to let the gestures express themselves.

The murmurs of the television made a background noise, ignored by the two lovers, but a powerful voice surprised them and they turned to the screen at the same time: Mark Spencer, a politician very committed to the rights of androids, gave a virulent speech. The ZK200s case had shaken the state and Spencer had found a golden subject to repeat his message: androids had to be protected by laws and to acquire their own civic status. In the current situation, robots who were victims of abuse could not complain on their own.

Gavin remembered the claims of last year's deviants and got ready to ask Conrad what it was thinking when his partner, lying on top of him, suddenly straightened up:

"Gavin, I need to charge myself."

"Huh?"

"Have you ever had an android? Sometimes we need to go into power-saving mode and plug in."

"Are you going to update?"

"Yes."

"Will you stay the same?"

The innocent question touched Conrad who ran a hand over his forehead to sweep the brown locks:

"Of course, I would rather discharge myself completely than become someone else."

Gavin was very puzzled when he saw the android remove its shirt and turn its skin off: under the heart, it removed a compartment to grab a cable as thin as a rod. Barely long, it still reached the outlet behind the sofa.

"You know, Robocop, I'll never apologize for everything I did to you at the beginning," intrigued, the machine frowned, "in a way, it thanks to my stupid mood that you've become like that."

"It's true. But you shouldn't be that proud."

They laughed.

"You can lie down on me if you want."

"I'll be connected all night."

"When I go to sleep, I'll be careful to not disturb you. You're not that heavy, don't worry."

Taking advantage of the invitation, Conrad lay on Gavin, its back marrying the man's stomach, its head on his shoulder. With its face turned towards the screen, it perceived Mark Spencer's last words while feeling Gavin's hand touching his stomach, when suddenly it laughed silently:

"You've an erection."

"It's just a physical reaction! And I thought you were sleeping?"

"It's in process."

And before its vision went black, Conrad grabbed Gavin's hand and held it against it, recording the contact.

Another trial was waiting for Gavin after the arrests deprived of joy: Fathia's funeral. Standing in front of his closet, he was looking for white clothes to respect Muslim traditions.

"Can I come with you, detective?"

The man had a shirt on his arm and searched to find white pants, usually reserved for the summer, but the request of the robot stopped him:

"I don't know, Conrad—Women have to pass after men, so I don't know where the androids are in the order of passage."

"Then I'll wait outside and I'll be discreet."

Single android, the presence of the RK900 was quickly noticed outside the Muslim square. Only the jacket of the android was associated with the requirements of funerary rites, not having other clothes. Many policemen were present. In fact, there were more police members than family who refused to pay tribute to the prostitute. Conrad was watching them, these wrapped silhouettes that were coming towards the mortuary and were leaving very quickly for the most part.

Before Gavin moved away to the still open coffin, the android grabbed his arm and discreetly passed the blue heart.

"What—"

"It comes from the child Miss El Harbi wanted to adopt."

Gavin understood the intention: to bury this part of the mechanical child with the mother could not save it. His fingers came around Conrad's wrist, pressing him gratefully before taking the thirium pump.

"Thanks, Conrad."

Not being able to cross the entrance, the android then watched its partner move towards the coffin, performing this gesture of tenderness.

The damaged fringe had been removed from the forehead covered with make-up. The long-sleeved dress hid the missing piece of skin and the old scars. All these details, Fathia left them behind her.

Regardless of the look or the customs, only of the friendship he had for this young woman, Gavin caressed her cheek. With a discreet gesture, he placed the heart of the ZK200 close to the arm, concealing it with the white fabric. Leaning, he tried to speak but had to go back several times to finally murmur:

"I'm so sorry, Fathia. I promise you I won't be so stupid in the future," and with that talent to be flippant even now, Gavin added, "I think from where you look, you know I'll keep my promise. And you were right for Conrad: he would be so popular at the Eden Club, but I keep him for myself."

He did not need to watch Fathia's face: he knew that if she could, she would have laughed kindly, true to herself as well.

Tina nudged Chris: she had pretended to have found a hilarious video to be able to whisper with her colleague. From their seats, they watched Detective Reed come up, called by Fowler, and Conrad followed its partner. The discussion concerned it, after all.

"You think they're going to send the android back?"

Chris shook his head:

"No, I don't think so, but as Aubrey's back, maybe Gavin won't work with the RK900 anymore."

The android had no decision to make, but he had a long talk with its partner the day before and Gavin had no intention of transferring it to another colleague.

Determined, the detective took his place in front of his captain. Jeffrey Fowler often shouted, whether for a small blunder or a huge professional misconduct, but he also knew how to congratulate his men when they deserved it, so while maintaining a military stoicism, he says:

"Before we talk about the android, my congratulations, Reed: it's far from over and we've to wait for the judges to deliver their verdict, but you handled the case really well." Without concealing a proud smile, Gavin welcomed the compliment. "You applied for the rank of sergeant and for now, the applications are still reviewed, but you're in the lead. Just keep the good work."

Fowler then pointed to the android:

"Now, the heart of the matter. I've a contract with CyberLife about the android and they ask that I've to assign it to a lieutenant so that the functions can be fully exploited."

"Yeah, their spokesperson made me understand it by the way."

"Between us, you know that I don't care: as long as the job's done, the place of the android doesn't interest me. Aubrey's back but I doubt she agrees to work with the RK900. So I let you make the decision and CyberLife can go fuck themselves if you still want to keep it: it's my police station, damn, not one of their shops."

Not so long ago, Gavin told Tina that he would decide the fate of the RK900 with Fowler, sending it back to the workshop if the programs had not stabilized or keeping it in the closet or elsewhere. But things had changed: Conrad and he had already watched four movies together, spent a whole evening on the balcony despite the cold to criticize the horizon of Detroit, not to mention that the nights when the android came to lie with him were more and more frequent. The RK900 began to fit into his life, finding its place.

It did not even need to look at its partner who heard his smile in his answer:

"Of course I keep him with me."

Okay, I'm going be honest: I was very skeptical toward Reed900 at first. The RK900 is visible like 3 seconds IG and Gavin is just the ass-hole so the player will automatically be on Connor's side. Thanks to fanarts by talented artists, I finally saw the potential and fell in love with these two.

I really enjoyed writing this first story and I hope your reading was pleasant too and that you'll read the next fics as some answers are missing.

Even if I was motivated to write and translate this fic all by myself, comments are always important. Without them, I might have just give-up and keep this story for myself, not taking the time to translate.

So, on Archive of our Own, a lot of thanks to Hogar, Elyxen, Zopheliah and poofic for all the warm support!

On the French version, I want to thank Kujotaro, but also on where I met a golden public with Guest, error-Ra9, Gueezmo, Enelica, Miss Mary Rose, Leana Nas and ifaw. The French fandom is precious.