Based on the TV series 'Almost Human' created by J. H. Wyman, a lot of the technical details will come direct from the show.

Beta read by the fantastic StartTheCar

XXXX

2048

Science and technology

Evolve at an uncontrollable pace.

Unknown drugs and weapons

Flood our streets and schools.

The contraband is controlled and distributed

by violent, faceless, criminal organizations.

And the crime rate rises an astounding 400%

Outnumbered and overwhelmed,

Law enforcement implements

a new strategy:

Every Police Officer is partnered with an

Advanced, combat-model Android.

(Opening monologue from Almost Human)

Eight-forty-five in the morning was when Zane Gold awoke face down in a pillow to his cellphone ringing violently, for a moment he didn't know what the incessant noise was but soon his mind flooded back to him and he reached across the bed to grab it. A quick glance to the screen before he put the phone to his ear revealed it to be Regina Mills, his precinct's Captain.

"Yes?" He bit out gruffly, he always sounded that way before his morning coffee... and usually afterwards as well.

"You were suppose to be in ten minutes ago." She said sternly which only caused Gold to sigh.

"I need more time, just one more day-"

"No." She told him quickly, Regina had mellowed in her years as a cop almost as though something evil in her had given way to goodness but she was still sharp and cunning. "Gold, I gave you another day and then another and another and now I'm done. You come back now. You're Sergeant Zane Gold, the best I've got, so get your scrawny Scottish ass in here."

Regina didn't wait for a response she just hung up leaving Gold laying on his chest with his phone against his ear. He sighed and turned over awkwardly, his phone fell to the duvet with a dull thud. With another sigh Zane threw off his green-grey covers revealing what had mentally and physically scarred him, his missing right leg. Memories of explosions, snippets really, gushed back, flashing before his eyes and teasing him. If only he could remember all that had happened fifteen months ago, before the coma; alas it all seemed to be gone now. All he really knew of that failed raid was that it had claimed his leg from just above the knee and his partner, Neal Cassidy; he'd loved that man like a son.

Carefully Gold hobbled out of bed in nothing but his black boxers showing the scars he'd gained from years on the force to the daylight, some were small and hardly noticeable while others were large and prominent. Slowly Zane made his way to the charging station in the corner of his bedroom where a grey synthetic leg lay, syn thetic charge incomplete screamed a computerised female voice when he lifted it off and attached it to the metal plate at the end of his stump. Quickly the grey metal changed to match his skin color, it was strange though, to see his false right leg perfectly shaved while the other was quite the opposite. He stood there a moment getting used to the false limb before going to his closet to dress, he paused after a single step when the leg squeaked, another step though and it seemed to fade away.

Zane pulled on his clothes quickly; dark fitted jeans, a crisp white shirt and charcoal low-cut waistcoat finished off with a blood colored tie. Long ago before the coma and Neal's death he'd have donned a full suit, he'd always been old school as Detective Cassidy had put it, but things had changed, now he had one leg and couldn't remember the raid. Gold didn't make breakfast just got himself a cup of black coffee, black as night, sweet as sin, and slipped on his leather jacket – a gift from Neal because he couldn't just live in suits forever – and then headed down to his car.

He drove his Cadillac – an antique he'd lovingly restored with Neal's help – to the precinct with his mind on auto-pilot, Zane continued to rack his brain, his memory, for answers about Neal's death but they just wouldn't come.

The precinct – which was located in the Storybrooke Cynosure District, often referred to simply as the SCD – was lined by blue and grey walls, the far left of which held a large 01 designating them as precinct one. The SCD was the largest precinct in Storybrooke and surrounded by precincts two through eight with the last four precincts encompassing them – who were often called the Band Precincts due to their thin but long area coverage.

Gold walked the raised floor to Regina's office but he did glance down the three steps to the bullpen, so many fucking MXs he thought angrily.

Detectives David Nolan and Emma Swan watched him from their place leaning against the blonde woman's desk within the bullpen.

"Christ! Captain Mills actually let him come back." Said Nolan in a shocked tone.

"Who is he, Dad?" Asked Emma as she glanced at the other Detective.

Emma had taken to calling David, Dad, almost as soon as they'd started working together. Despite only being thirty eight years old, David gave off an old fashioned vibe, he loved black and white movies from a century ago, he even preferred to use a pen; pens and paper had all but been forgotten in 2048. Nolan continued to use the items though, said they were more personal.

"Yeah that's right, you weren't here then. You'll have heard of him though." He informed as he folded his arms across his chest. "That, Emma, is Zane Gold." A look of realisation emerged on her face. "Just under two years ago he and his partner Neal Cassidy led a raid on an abandoned factory to corner a rogue android. Fourteen cops, and twenty MXs went in, he, eight cops and three MXs were all that came out alive and he didn't even come out in one piece according to reports. He led that raid, he got all those cops killed and Mills still let him come back to the force. Gold's been in a coma pretty much ever since, he's a law unto himself, dangerous."

"I've heard the stories but he can't be that bad." Emma chirped.

"Just wait and see. An hour, that's what I give him until he does something to piss Captain Mills off." Nolan clearly wasn't holding out much hope for Gold's return.

Zane pushed the glass door of Regina's office open and stepped inside, he wasn't stupid, he could feel the bullpens eyes on him. Gold slid a hand through his long brown hair dusted with ash as he came to a halt in front of Regina's desk. The raven haired woman sat comfortably as she typed on her tablet, it looked like a pane of glass, it took her only a second for the woman to start speaking.

"So you finally decided to show up, half an hour late."

"I'm an old man with a synthetic leg, I can't move as fast anymore." Zane bit out sarcastically.

That got her to finally look up at him, the tablet was laid down and Regina leaned back on her chair. She reached for what appeared to be a sheet of plastic roughly A4 size, it lit up with small black text and an image of Gold as soon as she touched it as well as a little red box that said 'AUTHORISED'

"I'm taking a chance on you, Gold." Regina told him authoritatively and stood. "What was it exactly your psych report said, shall we have a look? According to this 'Detective Zane Gold should never be allowed to return to active duty on the force. He's volatile, angry and subconsciously rejecting his synthetic limb.' I'm overlooking this so go get yourself and your nice new MX, get hell out of here and go solve a murder, I sent you all the relevant details we have on her death so far. Something nice and simple to ease you back. The Storybrooke Cynosure District won't keep itself safe." The tone was clearly dismissive but Gold made no attempt to leave.

"I don't need a bag of bolts."

"Yes, you do." She sighed before going back to her seat. "It's compulsory now that every human officer has to travel with an android partner."

"Well this is going to be fun then." The man huffed as he turned to the door.

"I saved your desk, go claim it, your MX two-thirty-seven, and get out there."

Sergeant Gold slid out the door and down the three little steps to his plain grey desk, he felt Emma approach before he saw or heard her. Gold couldn't deny her beauty, long blonde curls and big eyes; just the sort of girl Neal would have jumped at. She wore a short red leather jacket and a plain grey tank top along with dark jeans. He didn't want to speak to her, to any of them for that matter, just wanted to go back to work but it seemed she was intent on introducing herself. Is communication now compulsory as well as the MXs?

"Hey, I'm Emma Swan. You're Zane Gold right?"

He nodded. "Emma, what a lovely name." He shook her offered hand before looking past her. "Hello again Nolan."

Suddenly an MX-43 android appeared, standing a little too close for Gold's liking and cut into the boring conversation with its monotone voice.

"Hello, Sergeant Gold. I am two-thirty-seven, I have been asigned as your partner. I am here to help in any way I can."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever dearie. Come on."

Without another word Gold headed back up the three small steps followed by the mechanical babysitter. Gold didn't like androids but it wasn't for the reason most thought.

XXXX

Gold drove along the free way hoping beyond hope that the MX in his passenger seat would stop staring at him with those lifeless eyes. He didn't like MXs – or people in all honesty – they were just so blank.

The MX-43 series was a humanoid and battle-ready militarized android that closely resembled male human beings and had been kitted out in the best tactical gear money could buy. The android that followed Nolan around appeared to be African-American while Emma's and the one that sat in Gold's passenger seat was a dark-haired Caucasian male. Though very similar in appearance, they didn't all look exactly alike, despite the slight attempt at making them individual, they had all been programmed to think alike, all had the same voice and follow orders precisely. No compassion, a child could have been starving and begging for help at their feet and they'd do nothing but move them for loitering.

They had replaced the supposedly flawed BLE series of androids as the police's Assigned Partner just over four years previous. However, their ability to adapt and think for themselves had been replaced by a standardized set of protocols, seemed improvement meant removing any humanity. They couldn't feel and didn't have any sense compassion, MXs were incapable of adjusting their protocols situationally which only made Sergeant Gold hate them more.

Since the grumpy Scottish cop had met the MX, known only as Two-Thirty-Seven, it had just looked at him, it didn't speak like Neal would have, just continued to weight him down with its long stare. Every now and then the right side of it's face glowed red like fibre optics or fireworks flashing along its temple and down it's cheek. Neon radiating through veins.

"What?!" Gold demanded angrily as he glanced up from the freeway. "You've been staring at me since we left the precinct, have I got food on my face or something?"

Without blinking or a single movement the MX responded in that monotone generic voice.

"No, Sergeant. Your face is free of any food item or foreign partical. However, you are exceeding the speed limit in this area. As the second highest ranked officer of precinct 01 you should be aware of this. Would you like me to recite the highway code? It may be of help to you."

Zane spoke with mock enthusiasm, every single word dripped with sarcasm.

"Great! Why don't you go ahead and ticket me while you're at it?"

"I already have." Said the MX blankly.

"Fan-fucking-tastic." Muttered Gold. "You know what-"

Zane leaned over and in one smooth motion opened the door and kicked the MX out. The synthetic bounced and rolled down the road at full speed as parts of it chipped, flying off at all angles until it vanished under an eighteen wheeler only to emerge as tiny scraps and shards of metal decorating the tarmac; reduced to nothingness. Regina was going to be pissed but on the bright side it had been seven and a half minutes more than the hour Nolan had given him until he angered Captain Mills; a small win.