Life after the Revolution went from shitty to hell for Gavin Reed in a matter of months. First that little bitch Constance, or as everyone was now calling her, 'Connie', was a permanent fixture in the DPD, and watching Anderson fawn over her was sickening. It was a few days after that some terrorist group made a worldwide message that the androids were the gods of the future and all humans were the peasants, stating that they would make sure that only androids would survive in the future.
A month later, the entire human race became infertile.
Not that Gavin really cared; he didn't really want children. His own father wasn't around, so he didn't know what a good father should be, and, right now, his career was his only relationship. Well, he did have a cat, a beautiful calico he'd named Cancer, because the damned beast took over his entire life.
About four months after that shitshow of a revelation, some German perverted scientist developed 'synthetic' eggs and sperm for androids and it was discovered that they could now have children with humans and vise versa. In that time, Gavin had stopped hating androids. Don't get him wrong, he still didn't like them, but he would at least treat them right... You know, after three disciplinary warnings and a write up.
"REED!" Fowler's voice thundered through the precinct and through Gavin's musings. "DON'T YOU FUCKING IGNORE ME! GET YOUR ASS IN MY OFFICE! NOW!"
Well, shit. Gavin's day was going to get worse; he could just feel it. As soon as he entered the glass office, he knew it was going to be a hell of a lot worse. "You wanted to see me, Captain?"
"Reed, this is Corina, an RK900. She will be your new partner." Fowler held up his hand, cutting off what would have been a shouting match leading to yet another disciplinary warning, an said, "You don't have a choice; the Police Commissioner ordered it. PC Peralta thinks this would benefit both the DPD and Detroit as a whole."
The Detective glanced at the regal looking android sitting primly in the chair to his right. "All due respect, but Gina Peralta can shove it up her—!"
"With all due respect, Detective Reed," the android next to him stood, straightening her blouse, "I would not finish that sentence."
"Yeah, sure," Gavin smirked. "Look, I don't need a partner!"
"Well, the Commissioner disagrees. While your numbers are fantastic, you haven't had a partner in over three years! That puts not only you, but this entire precinct in danger! And I agree with her pairing you with Corina! Now, shut up and sit down. I have a case for you both."
Grumbling, Gavin took the file from Fowler, scowling as he looked over the gathered information. "A serial killer?"
"Yes. It seems the victims are all people still in same 'species' relationships." The captains rubbed the bridge of his nose. "So far, there have been four murders in as little as 2 days. So, either we're looking at a highly active killer—"
"Or a group." Gavin finished. This was going to be a whopper of a case, and he was sure that he was going to need more than a hunky of plastic. "Is there going to be a taskforce?"
"No, but you will have Anderson and Connie."
Gavin ran his hand down his face with a sigh. "Fine."
"Now get out of my office and process the crime scenes."
He had to say it; he was impressed. Corina, or has he had snidely started calling her, 'Nina', was actually very thorough. As soon as they arrived, she began rattling off observations. "The door was opened, so the couple likely new the killer. Aside from their fingerprints, there are only those from what appears to be family and possible friends. I sent a list of the matches to your phone, Detective."
"Sure." Gavin had squatted next to the woman, Regina Blanchard, studying the lasherations on her neck. "The killed strangled her, watching the life drain from her face." He cocked his head, trying to get himself into the mindset of the killer. "He could have been angry at someone who looked like her. Or maybe his own wife left him to seek out an android partner?"
"The latter is more plausible for motive." Nina walked back to Gavin, her two inch heels clacking on the terracotta tiles of the kitchen. "The backdoor was kicked out, no other signs of forced entry or a struggle. It seems the husband, Richard Blanchard, was stabbed multiple times in the neck, severing the carotid artery completely. He bled out in a matter of minutes."
The detective shivered. "That takes quite a bit of speed to attack someone who was a parkour expert."
"What if the killer had the element of surprise?" The android was looking at the front door, her eyes following some program. "If the killer was a friend, the victim wouldn't expect him to attack. Mrs. Blanchard was in the other room, setting the table to dinner, and likely came into the kitchen after she heard her husband fall." She turned to the dead woman, her grayish-blue eyes flashing. "From here, she was attacked by the killer. From the bruising on her neck and the angle of the wounds on Mr. Blanchard's neck, we can assume the killer is between five foot eleven to six foot three."
"Did he leave any DNA?"
She shook her head, her long chocolate braid swaying with the movement. "None that I could find with my scanners."
"He must have been wearing gloves and a hat." Gavin stood, surveying the rest of the kitchen. "Do you know what it was that stabbed him?"
"It seems to be either an ice pick or a Phillips head screwdriver. The killer slashed as he stabbed," she said, demonstrating what she meant, "mangling the wound and the weapon pattern."
"He knows what he's doing…" Gavin sighed, peeling the latex gloves off his hands. "Let's head back to the Precinct. We need to talk to Anderson and your sister."
"RK800 is not my sister, Detective."
"No? You are both RK models, and you look ever so much alike. In my book, that's a sibling."
For a moment, the clacking of her heels stopped. "You aren't as bad as I was made out to believe, Detective."
"Just stopped caring. They say deviants are people, cool. Don't expect me to like you though, Nina."
"I know you are bilingual and think calling me 'girl' is rude, but I quite like it, anciano."
A/N: 'Anciano' means 'old man'