Chapter 01: A Team of Three

"GET UP CONNOR, it's just a scratch."

Connor looks up from the torn denim and at a scowling Hank Anderson, then back to his knee. Bright spots of thirium begin to ooze from the open gash, and he tries (albeit uselessly) to lick the wound. The chemical flavor of thirium briefly numbs his tongue, and the saliva agitates his skin.

"What—oh Jesus fuuuck—you're so fucking gross, Connor," scolds the Lieutenant as he pulls Connor up by the shoulders, "It's just a scratch, for God's sake."

"But it hurts."

"And so does the headache that starts when you do something stupid, but you don't see me trying to shoot myself!"

Regardless, as Connor follows behind Hank across the parking lot and into the DPD building, he can't help but stare at the spots of blue on his knee and fails to notice Gavin Reed crossing his path.

"Oof!"

Connor looks up from his knee and gives the detective a tight-lipped smile, wondering what fresh new profanities the detective had invented specifically for him that morning. "I apologize, Detective Ree—"

"Fuck off."

After just two seconds, the detective is gone, and Connor is left feeling nonplussed and a little disturbed. Usually Gavin would hound him with condescending insults even a child could come up with, but this time he seemed to be in a rush—a little flustered, even.

"Whoa, the fuck happened to him?" murmurs Hank as he stares at the retreating man. "His ass on fire or something? Or was his ass fired?"

"I'm not sure, Hank, but it's already none of my business."

As much as Connor hopes it would be the latter, the DPD isn't stocked full of detectives, and losing Gavin Reed would be more a loss as opposed to a blessing. But he doesn't think any further of the peculiar situation.

"Lieutenant Anderson! Connor!"

The Android is quick to recognize Captain Fowler's voice and turns towards the direction of his office. He's standing half-outside the door as he motions for the men to come over, then retreats into his office.

"Well shit, I wonder what snobby entitled prick reported me this time," mutters Hank as he heads for Fowler's office, Connor trailing behind (and he's back to staring at his knee).

"I don't believe you're in trouble, Hank," says the Android, "But I'll admit, I'm not entirely sure what this could be about."

"Know what? Maybe's he's finally grown fed up with the people in this department."

"Are you suggesting that we'll all be fired and replaced?"

"By Androids."

"Well, I guess that means you'll be the only one working at CHICKEN Food then."

"Trust me Connor, you'll be making sandwiches with me. Hope you like the smell of depression."

"You can't smell depression, Hank—"

"Oh yes you can, Connor—as a man who's worked in fast-food for a good chuck of his youth, I can definitely say that depression has an odor, and it's fuckin' awful."

As the men enter the office, Connor is surprised to see there's a stranger amongst them. The stranger turns around at the sound of the door, and the Android instinctively scans their face.

TENMA, VICTOR

Born: 06/16/2011 / Police Detective

Criminal record: None

Connor calculates the man's age to be twenty-eight, but at first glance one would think he was at least twenty-four—if not, younger. He's also of Asian descent (Japanese, most likely), but his chestnut-brown hair appears to be natural, suggesting him to part Caucasian as well. When the man catches Connor's analytical gaze, he flashes him a wide grin, and Connor quickly looks away. He's not sure why, either, and deduces the action to a glitch in his system.

"Good morning, fellas," Captain Fowler begins to say, "As you can see, there is someone here that I want you to meet. He transferred here a few days ago, and today's his first day at the DPD. Why don't you introduce yourself?"

"I'm Victor Tenma," says the man as his arm stretches out, "Junior detective. I hope we can get along." His voice is smooth, and surprisingly crisp; Connor suddenly feels lightheaded.

"Me too, kiddo—The name's Hank. I've been here for a while."

"Connor—I had initially been sent to the DPD as an Android prototype, but now I'm a fulltime detective. It's a pleasure meeting you."

"You're an Android?" Victor's dark-brown eyes light up with interest, and they travel up and down Connor's body, "I suppose that explains the tacky outfit."

"E-Excuse me?"

Connor is quick to lower his body temperature, as to not show humiliation. But that doesn't slow down his rapid artificial heartbeats, nor keep his lips from pursing. From the corner of his eyes he can see Hank laughing quietly as he gestures at Victor to Fowler in disbelief, as if to say, 'Can you believe this guy?'

"I didn't choose this outfit for myself. These are just the clothes that CyberLife released me in."

"But you're a Deviant now."

Ba-dump.

"And how would you know that?"

Ba-dump. Ba-dump.

Victor smiles and taps on the right-side temple of his head. Quietly, Connor also lifts his hand towards his head, his fingertips slowly grazing against the empty imprint where his LED had been.

Of course.

Ba-dump.

Obviously.

Ba-dump. Ba-dump.

Often, when humans are embarrassed, their hearts beat faster because of the influx of adrenaline being released into their bloodstream, which stimulates the adrenergic receptors and causes their heartrate to increase. Connor wonders if the Android equivalent is happening to him.

"Well, if introductions are over, then please show Detective Tenma to his desk. I've got work to do, and I don't have time to listen to your chit-chat." Fowler officializes his statement with a stiff finger to the door, then switches his attention to his computer screen. As they leave the office, Hank turns towards Victor.

"So, where'd you transfer from?"

"Chicago."

"Oh, Chicago? Things probably got pretty crazy over there."

"Yeah, this one time I got a call about a party that some teens threw. Shit was apparently getting a little too wild, and the neighbors were starting to get annoyed. So when I get there, I kick down the door expecting to see a bunch of teens high off their asses—instead, I stormed right into the orgy of five or six people in animal costumes. One of them even came on my shoes—never been the same since."

Victor's expression is distant as he recalls the story; he doesn't even notice the exchange of wide-eyed glances between Hank and Connor.

"Riiight—so um… you like Detroit so far?"

"It's no different from Chicago, but the rent is worth it. Besides, working alongside a Deviant should be loads of fun."

"Trust me, you think it'll be fun now, but wait until you see him lick the evidence—"

"—Does he really—"

"—I'm being serious, he'll literally stick his finger in a pool of blood and put it in his mouth like a fucking two-year-old!"

Connor shoots Hank with a stern look as he says, "It's quicker and more efficient than collecting DNA samples! Why do I have to keep telling you this?"

"Because, Connor, if scanning DNA samples in real time means eating the goddamn evidence, I'd rather just have the lab test it!"

"I have to side with Connor here, sir. Being able to scan DNA samples in real time regardless of the process it takes in doing so sounds incredibly useful."

"You just want to see him lick the evidence."

"… I won't be verifying the validity of that statement."

"Can we please stop talking about how I 'lick' the evidence?!" Connor exclaims breathlessly, his pale cheeks now tinted blue, "Besides, I've already said it's for technical purposes! So let it go!"

Despite Connor's plead, Hank still leans towards Victor and whispers, "Earlier he fell in the parking lot and tried to lick the scrape on his knee."

"I—" The Android glowers at the lieutenant, but instead shuts his mouth and turns towards Victor with a tight-lipped smile. "Anyways, this is where the Lieutenant and I are stationed." He gestures to the desks facing each other. Connor's desk is significantly cleaner than Hank's.

"And this desk here is mine?" Victor points to the smaller desk situated at the end between the two desks.

"If you'd like, we can order—"

"—No, it's alright. A bigger desk will only leave more room for a bigger mess anyway," he says as he sits down in the chair.

"Um, so then, Detective Tenma—"

"—Just Tenma is fine."

"Oh, okay then… Tenma," Connor says the name slowly, trying to familiarize himself with the way it sounds on his tongue, "Do you maybe have a few questions for us?"

"Well… I do have one for you," he looks up and stares at Connor, his dark-brown eyes unreadable, "How exactly human are you?"

"Now wait one fucking moment, you can't just—"

Connor raises a hand and shakes his head at Hank. Surprisingly, the older man quietly leans back into his chair and fumes in silence.

"To be frank, Tenma: I'm as human as you want me to be. I can't force you to see me as your equal, but I'm not going to act like some obedient machine either. So, whether or not this gets in the way of our partnership is up to you."

Victor gazes at him, one eyebrow raised in interest as his lips curve into a parted smile. "Is that so?" he murmurs before folding his arms on his desk and leaning forward. "I don't think you have to worry about that, Connor. I look forward to working with you aaand"—he quickly leans towards Hank's desk and grabs his name tag, facing it towards him—"Hank."

Hank's eyebrows furrow as he snatches the name tag from Victor's hand and sets it on the other side of his desk. "I can already tell you're gonna be a real asshole."

"An astute observation, Lieutenant."

"Smartass."

"Well then," Connor interjects, before their bickering can go on any further, "Why don't we fill him in on the homicide?"

Victor's chin lifts, and there's an attentive brightness to his eyes.

"Homicide?"

"CLAUDIA WHITE WAS found dead in her parents' home. The time of her murder was somewhere around 11 pm, but the time of discovery was around 7 am. Whoever killed her had more than enough time to flee and dispose any evidence."

Victor looks up from the tablet in his hands and regards Connor curiously. "Do you have an idea what the motive behind the murder could have been?"

"There were no signs of a break-in, however there were signs of struggle in the living room. Furthermore, the suspect fled without taking anything, suggesting they killed her for personal reasons."

"Are you saying that the perpetrator was someone the victim knew?"

"Most likely."

"Right now, we've got her ex-boyfriend and her fiancé in custody," interjects Hank, "The fiancé's been a real pal, but the ex on the other hand…"

"Were there any witnesses?"

Hank and Connor exchange glances, and Hank clears his throat.

"We're currently looking for them."

"You don't have the witness?"

"The parents owned a Housekeeping Android. It was supposed to be housesitting, but they didn't trust it to be by itself, so they had Claudia come over to supervise."

"Are there any possibilities the Android had a role in the murder?"

"At first, we'd thought that maybe the Android had gone Deviant and killed her—however, Deviants don't generally turn to violence unless their stress levels exceed the normal percentage, and Claudia was not known to be aggressive towards Androids. In fact, unlike her parents, Claudia was very pro-Androids. It wouldn't make sense for the Android to murder her of all people.

Furthermore, Claudia was known among her peers to have quite an… unfaithful reputation. Despite her having a fiancé, there were rumors of her having an affair with both her ex and a co-worker. The co-worker, however, was working overtime the night of her murder, leaving only the fiancé and the ex as possible suspects."

Connor leans over Victor's shoulders and swipes at the tablet screen, switching it to a gallery of photos. He takes a second to find the picture in mind and pulls it up. Displayed on the screen is a picture of the murder scene: the furniture had carefully been wrapped in plastic, however the blood stains and various tears in the wrapping made it obvious there had been a scuffle. On the floor were more blood stains, and numerous strands of hair strewn about.

"We believe Miss White had invited the suspect to come inside and was taken by surprise when they reached the living room. They fought for maybe five or ten seconds before she was finally stabbed ten times."

"How do you know she was killed right away?"

"There were no signs of activity before her death. If she had been with the suspect for much longer, there would have been clues, such as tea in the kitchen, or imprints in the plastic wrapping on the furniture."

"Hm…" Victor looks at the picture before him for only another minute before glancing up at Connor, the attentive brightness returning to his eyes, "I wanna see the actual crime scene."

"Oh… um," Connor blinks, and then shrugs, "If it's fine with Hank—"

"Sure, let's see if the new guy's as smart as he acts," Hank interrupts with a half-smirk, "Or if he's just all talk."

As Victor rises from his seat and leans over his desk, he mimics the expression Hank dons with a flair of confidence. "Believe me, Lieutenant Hank, at the end of this case you'll practically be in love."

Connor observes their small feud with curiosity and a hint of interest; he's never met anyone as audacious as Victor (especially in the presence of Lieutenant Hank himself), however carried that same audacity with such brilliant charm. Unlike Gavin Reed, whose arrogant way of acting often garnered bad attention, Victor was cheeky but charismatic enough to get away with such behavior; it intrigued the Android.

"Well, since Hank's okayed it…" Connor rises from his seat as well, and gestures for Victor to follow. "I'll show you to the car—but I'm warning you now, it's not very fast…"

"It may not be as fast or flashy as today's cars, but it's never fuckin' failed me so fuck off Connor!" Hank spits as he reaches into his pockets and pulls out a set of keys.

Connor chuckles at Hank's defensive reaction and leans towards Victor, whispering, "He gets pretty defensive when it comes to Helena—"

"He's even named it?"

"Unless the two of you want to fuckin' walk ten-plus miles across the city, you'd better shut the fuck up."

"Yes sir!" Connor stands erect, waiting for Hank to turn around before leaning towards Victor again. "See what I mean?"

Victor looks up at him, his parted lips curved into a half-smile. "He's certainly temperamental, I'll give you that. But he's interesting."

"Yes, he is…" the Android murmurs. When the half-asian man looks up at him again, and he's still wearing that cheeky little grin, Connor feels his artificial heart begin to pump faster. Somehow, right now, Connor's both embarrassed and confused.

"Oi, fuckboys, unless you want to be left behind you better put some pep in your steps!" Hank calls, breaking Connor from his trance. With a soft huff, he looks away from the rookie and trails after Hank.

"Well, um, I'm not sure what you want to see at the crime scene, but I'm hoping you'll find something that'll help us solve the case!" he says hurriedly, wondering if a bug had entered his system. If that were the case, he'd have book an appointment with his technician as soon as possible.

However, at the same time, Connor has a feeling it isn't the kind of bug a technician can get rid of.