Author's Note – This started off as a simple, lighthearted "I wonder what the guys do when they're not working…LOL I'll bet they fight over the TV remote or something." I started writing the idea, and, uh . . . it seriously ran away from me. As my fics are wont to do. But I'm really pleased with how it turned out. I hope you enjoy reading as much as I enjoyed writing!

Also, as always, MUCH MUCH LOVE to my amazing beta, MyAibou who, as I've said before, is once again willing to help beta in a fandom she doesn't even know. ILU BB!

Disclaimer – "Brave Police J-Decker" and all related characters, events, and concepts belong to Sunrise, Nagoya TV, and any other related owners/distributors/producers. I get no monetary benefit from this. My benefit is the enjoyment of dealing with beloved characters.

"Live a Little"
by DragonDancer5150

CHAPTER ONE

McCrane sat at his desk in the Decker Room, the Brave Police's bullpen. The lights had been dimmed, the rest of the precinct building occupied primarily by the afterhours cleaning staff at this point. Much of the police force and all of administration had gone home for the night, leaving only those on active night patrol. Deckard was among the former, having left about a half-hour ago to take their boss home, Shadowmaru and Gunmax among the latter.

As the din in the room gained in volume, so did the head of the Build Team's robotic equivalent of a headache and his wish that he had been scheduled to be allowed out for night patrol as well.

"Dude, we watched soccer last night!"

"Yeah, but Argentina's playing tonight! And they're up against Belgium! You know that's gonna be a good game!"

"Good, sure . . . if you like soccer. But sorry, little bro, vote's two against one. We're watching wrestling tonight."

McCrane looked up from the movie he'd been trying to watch on his computer screen to study the rest of his sub-team. Power Joe and Dumpson were playing keep-away with the remote control for the big flat-screen monitor dominating the left wall of the room. It was primarily used for debriefings, but it was also the only screen they had with cable-television access (officially only for newscasts). Drill Boy danced between the other two as they tossed the little black device back and forth across the room, teasing their teammate who stood more than a head shorter. Drill Boy crashed into Dumpson as he made a leap for the remote, and both robots stumbled over Deckard's chair and into his half of the team-lead desks, jostling the whole table.

Duke looked up from his half, disturbed out of the book he'd been reading. More likely, trying to read, McCrane guessed. The Brave Police's second-in-command gave McCrane a glance. 'They're your responsibility,' the look seemed to say. McCrane sighed and nodded. Duke stood up. "I'm going to retire for the night. Try to not trash the place too badly, you three."

The trio straightened, offering salutes that were a bit jauntier than maybe they should be. "Roger!"

McCrane also stood, giving his teammate a nod. "Good night, Duke."

"Good night, McCrane." A faint grin quirked the corner of Duke's mouth as he glanced and thumbed McCrane's attention at the other three. "And good luck." He turned and left for their maintenance bay, headed for his docking cradle to settle into and shut down for the night.

McCrane eyed his team as he relaxed back in his chair. "All right, guys. Settle down. If you're that wound up and bored, I can call Saejima-san to see about assignments for the night." Since technically they weren't supposed to be out and about unless they were on duty, especially at night. Almost seven months since the first of them had been brought online and inducted into service, and that restriction still held. Damned paranoid board of directors...

Dumpson did an excellent impression of a human rolling his eyes. "Oh, come on, McCrane. Even if we are feeling cooped up, doesn't mean we wanna work. We worked all day already!"

"Yeah!" Power Joe was nodding. "I don't know about you, but I just want to unwind with some television. Blow off steam with some exciting sports, you know?"

Drill Boy made an irritated noise, arms crossed and a supremely unhappy look on his face. "But guys," he complained, "that's not even real! You know they stage the whole thing, right? That's not a sport. Besides, those guys look so lame, all dressed up in their stupid Halloween costumes." He turned to McCrane. "McCrane-senpai, tell them!"

Power Joe quirked a grin at Dumpson. "Hey, I think he just called you lame-looking, 'Kamikaze'."

McCrane remembered the case Power Joe was referring to. Just a few weeks ago, Dumpson along with their boss Yuuta, had gone undercover in Domingo Republic after a smuggling ring dealing in stolen military weapons and parts being used in an underground robotic wrestling circuit. With a classic, albeit giant-sized, wrestler's mask and cape, Dumpson had passed himself off as a human-piloted wrestling robot named Kamikaze.

Drill Boy flinched as Dumpson glanced at Power Joe, then rounded on him. The group's junior threw his hands up, waving them in alarm. "What!? No, no, no, I didn't say that! Besides, you're the one who decided to get rid of that mask. 'I like my face as it is,' remember!?" He backed away as his teammate advanced.

Dumpson had a smirk on his face. "The costumes might be lame, but I can show you some very not-lame wrestling moves."

Drill Boy yelped as Dumpson lunged at him, managing to duck the other's arms with scant millimeters to spare. "Dumpson! Senpai, help!" He threw himself to the side, only to find himself nearly in Power Joe's grip.

"Hey, Drill Boy – Cobra Twist!" Power Joe crowed as he made a grab at his teammate, referring to the finishing move of a famous wrestler of whom he and Dumpson were both fans.

McCrane recalled Power Joe catching Drill Boy in that move once before. By the look of near-panic that crossed Drill Boy's face, he did too. Drill Boy wailed. "Noooo! That move hurts! Leave me alone, guys! C'mon! Knock it off! Senpai!"

McCrane shifted to get to his feet again and break up his teammates, but then, with a gasp, he stood so hard, his chair fell over behind him. "Guys! Not so close to-!"

Too late! Dumpson and Power Joe had cornered Drill Boy, who threw himself backwards in an attempt to buck from them. In doing so, he slammed squarely into the monitor on the wall behind him. McCrane cringed and all three of his teammates froze in shock at the crunch as the screen shattered, raining glass all over the Build Team.

The sudden silence in the room was broken only by a soft buzz of distress by the door. McCrane dragged his gaze from his teammates to see who it was.

Gunmax stood for an instant, mouth hung open and optics so bright they were easily visible behind his visor. Then he slipped into an uneasy smirk, stance shifting to an approximation of his usual nonchalance as he shook his head. "You are so dead," he told them in English. Reaching, he snagged his forgotten badge off his desk, then held up both hands. "I wasn't here. I saw nothing. I don't know a damned thing." With that, he beat a hasty retreat.

McCrane heaved a heavy sigh and turned back to his errant teammates. Not one of them had dared move yet. "Well, don't just stand there. Clean that mess up."

"Y-yes, sir!" The three broke apart from their huddle.

McCrane watched his team scramble about for something with which to gather the broken glass. Power Joe went through the team's desks and Dumpson ducked out of the room into the maintenance bay. After a moment's hesitation, Drill Boy just dropped to his knees, trying to scoop the shards into a pile with his hands. What they needed were brooms or a vacuum cleaner or something. McCrane realized that there wasn't any such thing in the building, not that a robot of their size could realistically use. He shook his head and stepped over to Drill Boy, stooping to catch him by the shoulder. Gaining Drill Boy's attention, he looked up at Power Joe, addressing both of them. "Never mind. I'll ask someone from the cleaning crew to come in. Just . . . maintenance bay. Now." He pointed. "Tell Dumpson too."

"McCrane . . . all right." Abandoning his search for supplies, Power Joe made his way across the room, pausing at the door to wait for his teammate.

Drill Boy gazed up at McCrane, looking miserable. "I-I'm sorry, Senpai."

McCrane nodded, giving his shoulder a squeeze. "I know, just . . . go on." He helped Drill Boy to his feet and watched him cross the room. Power Joe slipped a brotherly arm around his teammate's shoulders, Drill Boy tucking to his side, as they headed through the door together.

McCrane turned the other way and stepped to the raised deck that ran along the front wall of the room and a little around on the left. As a general part of the building, it was a continuation of the second story of the structure beyond the wall of the Decker Room. Coming to hip height on the Brave Police, it was where their human companions came in and could speak with them at closer to an even level. Stretching across the deck, McCrane carefully opened the door that led into the rest of the building. He called and tapped his fingers on the floor in the hallway until someone noticed and came to answer. He grinned when he recognized the janitor – the man was a regular and visited with them often, when his schedule allowed it. "Good evening, Okiayu-san."

The human was an older gentleman, with white hair that had thinned across the top, wrinkles from smiling, and kindly grey-green eyes. "McCrane-kun," he murmured with a slight bow of greeting, concern in his gaze. "I thought I heard a commotion. Is everything all right?" He glanced around the now-empty room, eyes widening at the sight of the monitor. "Oh!"

"Well . . . no one was hurt, anyway."

"Did your boys get too rowdy again?" A knowing grin had spread across Okiayu's face, his look one of amusement.

"Yes, I'm afraid so. Could I ask for a couple people to come clean that up?" McCrane gestured at the mess of glass all over the floor.

"Yes, yes, of course." Okiayu easily waved off the request as if it were no trouble, but then he turned to gaze at the massive door in the far corner, ostensibly into the maintenance bay where the others were. He shook his head sadly. "Children really should be allowed out to play. It's not good to keep them locked up like this."

McCrane eyed the elderly human, surprised. "You think they're children?"

Okiayu looked up at McCrane, a twinkle in his eyes. "Aren't you all?" McCrane certainly didn't think so, and that must have shown on his face because Okiayu nodded. "You are capable of the maturity to do the jobs you were built to do, but think about it, my friend. I have heard that Super A.I.'s develop the more they – you – interact with humans. You start off with a set degree of knowledge and understanding and ability, but your beginning point is not your ending point. You continue to learn and grow, do you not? Much like a child? How old are you, McCrane-kun?"

McCrane gazed at him a moment, finally replying. "I was inducted into the force just over six months ago, as were Power Joe and Dumpson."

Okiayu nodded. "And Drill Boy-kun only about three months ago, was he not?" The old man smiled, a fond grin like he was talking to a grandchild. "Don't think that people have not been paying attention, watching all of you. I have, and my family with me. You are all truly remarkable. You are powerful and you have done so much already, but you are all still so innocent. The world has not jaded you yet, not really. You still share the exuberance of children, and the trust that all will be right in the end." He looked again at the door across the way. "And some of you are even more childlike than the others. Your teammates remind me of my sons when they were younger, and their sons now. They do their chores and go to school and do their homework, they fulfill the responsibilities given to them, but they need their time to play as well, to act out and be themselves outside of those responsibilities and cares. Adults learn to conform and 'behave', and if need be, give up play altogether and learn to do without being themselves as they truly wish to be. Children have not learned this yet. It is the definition of childhood, and its magic." Okiayu turned his attention up to McCrane once more. "Is that not true of your teammates as well? Is that not true of all of you?"

McCrane gazed back at Okiayu, surprised by the words . . . and the truth he felt he knew in them. He remembered thinking, and not for the first time, about the board of directors keeping them cooped up in these rooms when not on patrol – when not needed, like they were some kind of work tools – and how it felt restrictive. He shook his head. "You forget, Okiayu-san. Regardless of how mature or childlike we may seem . . . we're just robots." He looked at the door across the way. "And they really do need to learn to control themselves better." The words sounded hollow to him. He knew it wasn't that simple, as much as he might wish it were.

"Are you?"

"Hm?" McCrane looked back down at Okiayu. There was that knowing expression again. Sometimes, McCrane felt like the old man could see right through him.

"Are you really 'just' a robot, McCrane-kun?" Before McCrane could answer, a voice down the hall, another of the cleaning staff, called Okiayu's name. The old man called back, "I'm in the Decker Room, Mika-chan. I'll be right there." He looked up at McCrane, reaching to rest a gnarled hand against the smooth metal of McCrane's arm. "You are only 'just' what you choose to be, McCrane-kun. Others cannot truly limit you unless you let them." He patted McCrane's arm. "I'll get Mika-chan and some of the others to come clean up that glass. You go. Be with your team and rest now. You've earned it." He gave McCrane another grandfatherly pat on the arm, then turned and shuffled back out of the room.

Alone once more, McCrane headed for the maintenance bay. He paused for a moment and surveyed the room. Eight docking cradles dominated the walls, four mounted along each side. On his right, only the far end one was occupied, Duke's optics dark as he stood against the wall in his cradle. The other three belonged to Shadowmaru, Gunmax, and Deckard, though the latter rarely occupied his except when his engineering team was running diagnostics or repairs on him. The cradle to McCrane's immediate left was also empty – that one was his. Next to it was Dumpson's, then Drill Boy's, and finally Power Joe's.

McCrane strode into the room. His team's optics were dark like Duke's, but a quick glance at the control consoles at their feet told him that they were far from powered down. "Guys," he murmured, loudly enough for them to hear but not so much, he hoped, to rouse Duke from his standby cycle. None of the three responded, but he saw Drill Boy's fingers twitch at his side. "Build Team, I know you're still awake."

It took another few seconds, but then they shifted reluctantly, optics coming back on as the three exchanged looks before focusing on McCrane. Drill Boy gave a sheepish shrug. "Can't sleep."

"McCrane . . . listen, we . . . " Dumpson started, but the words seemed to fail him.

"We're sorry, McCrane," Power Joe finished.

Drill Boy's hands tightened into fists at his sides. "We didn't mean to cause trouble!"

McCrane waved a hand. "It's all right. Just try to rest and quit worrying for now. I can't say this will just slide, but it's not like they'd reformat us or anything, not over something ultimately so petty."

Power Joe leaned a little out of his cradle to see McCrane better, moving carefully despite his obvious surprise so that he didn't pull any plugged-in cables free. "Wait...what?"

"'Us'?" Dumpson repeated.

"McCrane!? Senpai, no! You didn't do anything wrong! You shouldn't-"

McCrane stepped up and caught Drill Boy's flailing hands in both of his own, then shifted to reach across and catch Power Joe's near hand in one of his. He glanced to Drill Boy's other side, including Dumpson as he spoke. "We're a team, all four of us. We are the Build Team. We stick together no matter what, right?"

The trio exchanged looks once more, then refocused on McCrane, nodding in unison. "Yes!"

McCrane nodded in return. "Good. Now get some rest, all of you. Good night, Drill Boy, Power Joe." He squeezed their hands – and they his – then let go, clasping hands with Dumpson as he passed on his way back to his own cradle. In turn, they each bid him good night as well, and one by one, their optics darkened again, dimming slowly as their systems slipped into standby.

McCrane stepped up onto the platform of his docking cradle, then turned and settled back against the wall. His joints balanced and locked automatically as mounts and docking ports clicked into place around him, some to monitor and some to help support him as he stood there. They were reassuring sensations, and McCrane gave in to the feeling of safety they offered. There'd be hell to pay tomorrow, he knew that – their opponents among the board of directors very likely now had just one more bit of "evidence" against them, about how reckless and "dangerous" they were (Azuma was sure to have a royal fit) – but he knew it would blow over and things would be all right again. He trusted that they would be.

Hmn . . . trust . . . maybe Okiayu-san's onto something after all.

With that thought, McCrane let his Super A.I. wind down into sleep mode.