AN: I got a new computer and found a rough /rough/ draft of the beginnings of this story on the old laptop. I didn't even realize how much I missed having a weekly dose of Karl Urban and Michael Ealy until I found this. I wasn't sure if I was gonna post it but I decided 'What the hell?' So, after some major editing and rewriting, here we are. The story starts where Almost Human does and the first handful of chapters will be very close to the show (not in the same order since Fox didn't air them the right way anyway) but they taper out into something else. There were so many plot lines left hanging and I want to either ignore them, close them up of answer them. I don't know what my addiction to Star Trek AOS is but gave this story my trekkieness (I don't know if that's a word, don't care). Anyway, enough rambling from me, enjoy.


"Hey, Scotty," Leonard McCoy said as he walked into the robotics lab.

"Ah, laddie, as I live and breathe. Or should I say, as you live and breathe? You scared the hell outta the lot of us," the Scot said with a smile.

Eighteen months ago, Leonard, a San Francisco Police detective, was in an ambush by a terrorist group that killed the rest of his team. After waking up from an almost 17-month coma, he didn't remember much more than the fact that his partner, Phil Boyce, was killed; his girlfriend, Jocelyn Darnell, left him; and he lost his right leg in the attack and he's been outfitted with a highly sophisticated prosthetic.

According to the department shrink, he was suffering from depression, mental atrophy, some trauma-onset OCD, a bit of PTSD and the 'psychological rejection of his synthetic body part.' Doctor Adams recommended that Leonard 'should return to duty: never.' Thankfully, there was someone in his corner in the form of his –and Phil's- friend, Captain Christopher Pike. The captain pulled for Leonard when everyone else wrote him off, saving his career and maybe even his life. Today was Leonard's first back to work.

"I've been better… also been worse, so I'm not complaining. How ya been?" Leonard asked the friend he hasn't seen in a while.

"Constantly turning down party invitations. Become quite popular with the lasses," Scotty deadpanned. "How can I help, ya?"

"I got a rec order for another synthetic," Leonard told him.

Gotta love the year 2048. After the spike in science and tech brought new drugs and weapons, the crime rate jumped something like 400%. It was ordered that every cop partner up with an android while Leonard was in his coma. He had been partnered with the combat-ready VX like everyone else but they had a bit of a disagreement, which is why Leonard was in Scotty's lab to begin with.

"He fell? Out of a moving car?" Scotty asked.

"Yeah, crazy, huh?" Leonard said. The detective was not telling his friend that he pushed the damn thing out the door after it questioned him about being spotted in an area with black-market medical clinics. Leonard had enough to worry about. "Must be some kind of software issue. Gonna need a new one."

"Software?" Scotty gave him a look. "Since we don't have any VXs available, the department's only cleared one other model for active duty. Come on." The pair walked into the lab's storeroom. "Funny, actually. This, uh... this unit was scheduled to be transferred to NASA next month to assist in external vehicle repair on the suborbital C.N.A. Space Station. It's sad really. She's practically just scrap metal. The trimidium circuits in her spinal column are worth more than the whole of her."

"Wait a minute. That's... that's one of the crazy ones," Leonard said as he looked at the android that Scotty pulled out of the room and onto a diagnostic table. Long blonde hair, insanely blue eyes, she was beautiful… for a robot.

"What? No. That's rude, lad. They're not crazy, per se."

"You know, they had their..."

"What? Problems? Show someone with no problems and I'll show ya a liar," Scotty gave him a look. Leonard could admit that the engineer had a point. "Technically, they're perfectly functional. Leonard, this is Jemma." Scotty checked something on his tablet. "There. Her DF was bad but I fixed it."

"Anything I need to know?" Leonard asked.

"Well, the GSK series and JTK sub-series were both based on a program called Synthetic Soul. And while she's not crazy, as you say, there may be some bugs."

"Bugs? What kind of bugs?"

Scotty sighed, "Some of the GSKs had difficulty dealing with their emotive regulations. Emotional issues. The idea behind both was to make them as human as possible. And the truth is that it's human to have unexpected emotional responses. If, uh, being as close to human was the goal, then, I guess they weren't such a failure after all. People have breaking points, and so do these androids. At least, in theory, there weren't enough JTKs to be sure."

"So you're saying she might be a basket case?" Leonard asked.

"No more than the rest of us," Scotty told him. "There were only a dozen JTKs made before they were pulled from duty. They didn't really have the problems of their… brothers but the same designers and programmers meant that they got lumped into the whole mess when the GSKs started acting erratically. I think there are only three JTKs still around, including this one.

"Alright, plug it in already. I got to get back on the street," Leonard resigned himself to his fate. He was stuck with this thing but maybe it would be better than the VXs.

"Please have the honor of waking her up yourself." Scotty handed him a tool. "Touch it against her left ear." Leonard did as he was instructed and was rewarded with a gasp.

"How long was I out?" the android asked.

"Uh, four years and three months," Scotty said.

She gave Scotty a small nod before looking at him. "Detective Leonard McCoy. I'm Jemma… Your record is outstanding."

"Used to be," he muttered.

"Excuse me?" she asked.

He chuckled, "Update your files, grab some normal clothes and let's go. Thanks, Scotty."

"Anytime, laddie."


"So, what do I call you?" Jemma asked from the passenger seat.

"Detective," he told her as he drove.

"Well, Detective, this sure beats repairing thermal insulation tiles on the C.N.A. Space Station." She looked around, studying everything outside the car, and him when he wasn't looking. "I was decommissioned four years ago, as you know, so why am I in this car with you?" she asked.

"I'm required to ride with a synthetic," Leonard told her.

"I really don't like that term," his new partner said. Leonard raised an eyebrow, he's never met an android with preferences. "Saint Christopher. This has to be a gift from someone. Am I right? Something like eighty percent of these are given as gifts." Jem's slender hand touching the necklace hanging on his mirror.

"Synthetics are precise," he said.

"There it is again. Synthetic."

"You just said, 'Something like eighty percent'."

"The actual statistic is eighty-three point four-two percent but I'm running my colloquialism routine, so I express most data conversationally," she told him.

"Terrific," Leonard muttered.

"So, who's 'J'? Jamie? Jane? Jennifer? Joanne? Jenna? Julia? Jasmine? Jessica? Jemma?"

"Okay, that's enough, alright? Um...synthetic off." Leonard took a deep breath, this thing seriously doesn't stop talking.

"'Synthetic off.' Does that mean you want me to be quiet?" Really? He had to have the one robot that he can't shut up.

"Yeah, whatever the mode is for you to be quiet, just… do that," he told her.

"Look, I can be quiet if you want. All you have to do is ask."

"Can you be quiet?" Leonard asked.

"Yes," she said. Leonard glanced at her a few times during the rest of the drive just waiting for the moment when she'd say something but she didn't.

When he pulled the car into the precinct, he looked at her. "Thank you."

"You're welcome."


"Wow, I haven't seen one of those synthetics for years, I don't think anyone has. It's kinda perfect. Two cops from the scrap heap. This is gonna be even more pathetic than I thought," Stiles laughed as Leonard and Jemma walked into the bullpen.

"Those are the models that replaced me," his partner said, looking at the VXs. Tall, black hair, human-like skin but with a greenish tint to it, and full blue and black combat gear. "Intimidating."

"Go register so we can get moving," he told her, ignoring the comment from Stiles. Jemma gave him a look and walked over to the desk sergeant.

The case he was working on involved a biotech transport that was ambushed. The evidence at the crime scene, which included missing programmable DNA and a canister of Myklon Red, causes caused him to flash back to his ambush of the Section 31 hideout, recalling a similar canister there. While it the ambush appeared to be the work of the Khmer Black gang, Detective Nyota Uhura, using her knowledge and intuition as an Intelligence Analyst, disagreed. Leonard was inclined to agree with her.

"JTK-one-seven-zero-one registration complete," the tablet Jemma was holding said. She handed it back to the sergeant just as Stiles stepped over to her.

"Hey, bot, don't snap on us, now," Stiles said. Leonard glared at the other detective. Jemma was his partner. He may not like it, or her even, but that doesn't mean someone can just disrespect her. Before he could say anything, a young officer stepped over to them.

"Sir, Detective Mitchell has been abducted. Pike wants you on it. His VX was destroyed. This is all we could get off it. Based on the masks, these are the same guys from the armed robbery," the kid told them. Leonard watched the recording from Mitchell's VX, it was definitely the same team.

"Suspect back from The General?" Leonard asked. The officer nodded. "Jemma, with me." Leonard walked into the interrogation room and slammed their suspect's head against the table, they didn't have time to be nice about this. "Your gang killed four security guards. Now you've taken a cop. Where is he?"

Eric Ayel was one of the robbers, he was left behind because of a gunshot wound to his leg. Ayel just groaned. "Did they take him 'cause we have you?" Still no answer. "You know what this is?" Leonard held up a tablet. "It's your booking file. It describes the condition you were in when we got you. Now..." Leonard grabbed Ayel's leg where he was shot, "what are you doing with programmable DNA? What's the Myklon Red for? Jemma, get ready to write down missing molar."

"There are other ways, Detective," she said flatly.

"I'm questioning this man, okay, not you. Now..." Leonard started but he was interrupted by his leg.

"Synthetic fail. Calibration required. Synthetic fail. Calibration required. Synthetic fa..." the automated voice said. Leonard groaned as the whole thing froze on him, it's been doing that all day.

"You should get that checked, Detective. He shot himself," Jemma said before stepping around him. "Perhaps it was a bit crazy this morning, maybe the doctors at San Fran General even missed it, but the trajectory of the bullet that hit you, the burn marks on your flesh… there's no chance that you were hit by a bullet from any gun but your own."

"Is that true?" Leonard asked.

"You don't know the people I work for," Ayel said.

"Trust me, I do," the detective replied. These are the same people who literally blew up his life almost two years ago.

"I needed to get away from them any way I could," the suspect told them.

"Look, we can help you, we can keep you safe, but you need to give us information," Leonard said.

Ayel shook his head, "No, I'm not safe anywhere, not even here."

"We'll put you in a secure location under guard. No one will find you, but you need to talk," Leonard tried again.

"I need to be somewhere safe," Ayel told them.

"Then, where's Detective Mitchell? What's the address?" Jemma asked.

Ayel looked at her, "Three-twenty-five Grand, apartment six."


"Not that you need me to tell you this, but you just violated the crap out of that guy's civil rights," Jemma said in the car after a few minutes of silence.

"Fantastic, I get the synthetic with the bleeding heart. Look, I don't care what you're programmed to do. You report what happened in there and you'll find yourself bouncing down the six-oh-four."

"If I was going to report you, I would've done it already," she retorted. He glanced at her but didn't reply. "And stop calling me 'synthetic' unless you want me to start calling you 'human'."

They rode the rest of the way to the Grand Apartments in silence. Leonard wanted to be pissed that an android was questioning him, but she was right, he could get into a bunch of trouble for manhandling Ayel. He decided not to think about it too much as they joined the other officers heading into the apartment building.

The group moved though the first and second levels in formation until one of the VXs stopped their advance. "Stop. Potential explosive device. Humans back. Evacuate the building." Jemma kept going down the corridor. "JTK-one-seven-zero-one, halt advancement. Halt advancement."

"Detective," she called after a minute, he moved to join her and some of the VXs fell in behind him.

"What is it?" he asked her, his eyes focused on the device a few feet in front of them.

"It's not a bomb but that trip wire goes somewhere," Jemma told him. "I'll lead you in?"

"I do not advise that, sir," the VX said.

Leonard glared at him before looking at his partner, "Let's go."

Jemma moved half a step ahead of him, weapon at the ready as they followed the trip wire, clearing the rooms they passed. Finally, they got to a door where the wire disappeared. Slowly, Leonard's partner opened the door, checking the area around it.

"Mitchell," Leonard said. The tall detective was in some kind of glass box that was attached to the trip wire.

"Help," the other detective said.

"You gotta stay calm," Leonard told him.

"McCoy, help me! Help! Do something!" Mitchell yelled. Leonard looked at his partner.

"Bulletproof glass. It's welded shut," she said. This was beyond bad, Ayel played them. Leonard pulled out his phone.

"Rand speaking," came the voice of the police officer assigned to transport Ayel.

"Rand, where are you?" he asked.

"On our way to the safe house," Rand told him. "We have the perp in the car."

"Okay, turn around… this whole thing's a setup," Leonard said just as he heard tires screech and gunshots. "Rand, Rand." As soon as the line was dropped, the device hooked up to the box that Mitchell was in went off, releasing a gas inside the box as Jem tried her damnedest to get it open.

"No, no, no, no..." Mitchell said until he stopped breathing.

"Stop, there's nothing you can do," he told his partner. "There's nothing we can do."