A/N:

After more than a year, I've decided to re-launch this story, this time on another account (I forgot the password to the other one). I wrote Techmaturgical Precision in a time of unbalance in my life and never finished it due to internal struggles, even though I valiantly attempted to. Writing should always be something fun and relaxing but real-life issues and a hectic schedule broke me down. My inspiration disappeared and as I eventually felt that I had to force myself to write even a single sentence, I decided to stop and put it all on ice. Fortunately, things have finally turned for the better and I've matured and moved on. This time, I do intend to publish the whole story, albeit with slight alterations from its original draft.

For those of you who have no idea of what I'm mouthing about, please ignore the message above. This story is going to be about Jayce and his past, together with the appearances of Piltover's finest and a certain cyborg. Hope you'll enjoy reading.

CHAPTER 1:1

"…broadcasted all across Valoran! Now, let's move on to the regional weather! Cassie, how does it look in Piltover today?"

Hmm...? Ah, the radio.

"Hey Brad, it seems absolutely amazing, I must say! Not a single cloud—"

He groaned and reached for a button on his end table. It took him three tries before his palm finally struck the rectangular touch-panel and the woman's annoyingly merry voice was abruptly cut off mid-sentence.

"Give me today's, Claire," grunted the brown-haired male to seemingly nobody as he rubbed the sleep from his eyes.

"The lady on the radio was quite correct, Piltover is going to be a very sunny city today. May I suggest that you dress in something extra light? And today you're having a meeting with the Sheriff at lunch as well as the regular scheduled event for tonight. Also, don't forget to pass by the Academy at four o'clock for retrieving of the package."

The man yawned dramatically and stretched out his limbs, his knuckles brushing against the wooden headboard of his bed. "Ah yes… the Sheriff. When was I supposed to pick her up?"

"The appointment was at 12:30. If you get up now, you'll be able to reach the station at 12:38. She knows you're usually late and probably won't scold you, but I would still suggest you to pick up a bouquet at Marcie's just for safety. If my memory recalls correctly, I daresay she fancies lilies."

"Very amusing, Claire," he replied with a hint of sarcasm as he slid out from bed and raked a hand through his disheveled hair. Beneath the tousled tresses, a well-defined, almost perfectly symmetrical face appeared. A long, straight nose marked the center-point of the man's unarguably handsome face and a charming smirk tugged at the corner of his lips. "You're an artificial intelligence, you can't forget things."

"Glad you think so."

After taking a quick shower, the brown-haired man got dressed into a casual attire apt for the weather, sloppily made his hair somewhat appropriate and went on a hunt for his sunglasses. His apartment was anything but dirty but a copious amount of notebooks, blueprints, colorful memos and crumbled paper scraps brimmed over the garbage can, filled the bookshelves, littered the floor and heaped the even more humongous desk placed against the southern wall. Misshapen creations of assembled iron and jutting pieces of tubes balanced on a treacherously unsteady shelf next to an array of framed diplomas that clearly stated academic prowess. An empty coffee mug stood on the windowsill next to various sorts of plants and a narrow hallway decorated with a dated map of Valoran led west towards the tiny kitchen, the front door and the sparsely furnished bathroom. The walls and ceilings of the apartment were painted white and the floorboards were completely naked. The design of the rooms granted the messy home an illusion of being larger than it actually was and a sliding glass door connected the combined work and bedroom – the marginally largest room – to a rarely visited balcony that jutted awkwardly out from the building. Sunlight was hindered from seeping into the apartment by blinds and the scent of dried remnants of coffee, oil-soaked cloth and male aftershave lingered in the air.

With eyelids still heavy from sleep, the man was on the verge of resigning his mission amidst this jumbled chaos of turning sheets, lifting heavy piles of paper and sorting through files, when the AI finally decided to assist her creator.

"Have you checked your pockets?" asked the female voice dryly.

Having currently been searching through his cabinets, the brown-haired man stormed out of his kitchen and went to grab his jacket that hung from a knob in the vestibule.

"Found them," the man answered and triumphantly held up the sunglasses. "Thanks for the quick save."

"You're welcome."

As in a hurry as he was, he almost failed to spot the three letters lying on the dusty doormat. Deciding against his AI's advice, the man crouched down and gathered them into his hands before reading from who and where they came from. The first one was sent from a minor science organization he did not recognize and he quickly decided to ignore it. The second letter was about his bills and he sighed heavily.

Wasn't the government supposed to deal with this now since I am working for them? Strange, he thought and threw the letter over his shoulder as well. I guess I'll have to make a call.

"You've lost approximately fifteen minutes trying to find your way out of the shower. Shall I convey a message to Miss Caitlyn and tell her that you won't be able to make it to lunch?"

The brown-haired man shook his head and got to his feet. "No, just tell her that I was slightly preoccupied this morning," he said.

"With dreaming about her?" the AI wondered sarcastically. "Or with your vanity?"

"The former, please," he replied earnestly as he examined the last envelope.

"I'll be on it immediately. Anything else you'd have me do?"

He opened his mouth to answer but closed it just as quickly as he read the name of the final letter's sender. He quickly tore up the letter and skimmed through the note inside of it, his eyes widening with each few sentence.

"Jayce?" Claire called with a hint of worry in her usually cynical voice. "Are you there? I never sensed you leaving—"

"I'm here," the male interrupted and rose up. "Just a bit startled. Did you know that Victor wanted to meet me? He's claiming here in crappy scribbles that you blocked all his calls."

The AI's answer came almost immediately, as if prepared, and although it would have raised suspicion had she been human, Jayce knew that Claire wouldn't lie. He trusted her that much.

"My program warned that his messages weren't safe and when I tracked them back to his circuit, I read that the location of it was in Noxus," explained Claire in a neutral tone. "I won't accept anything from there, you made sure of it."

Jayce nodded thoughtfully and put the letter on his low shoe rack. He then called the AI goodbye, placed his shades on his nose and strolled out of his apartment, locking the door behind him. He had a whole lot to do according to his AI's agenda and since he had already slept away most of the time as well as foolishly search for his sneaky sunglasses, Jayce decided to be a bit adventurous for the day. Hopefully, he wouldn't run into the same problems as the last time he had tried out one of his most successful inventions. Something he only could use within the city.

Piltover, globally known perhaps more as the City of Progress, was the most advanced and modern city-state of whole Runeterra and led the world's most intricate research on ecological and recyclable energy. Ever since the nation underwent drastic changes within the military a decade ago, the life quality of its denizens had rocketed sky-high and the average lifespan of a Piltoveran was nowadays seventy-five years. With a booming economical growth that only increased exponentially by each year, mostly due to the incredible rich integration, international trading and astonishingly low crime rate, and an unemployment rate of just above three-point-seven percent, Piltover could be proud to call itself the most productive city-state as well. Almost every citizen had experienced an advanced level of education and worked within business, medicine, archeology or techmaturgy. The city was the ideal place for aspiring academics, inventors and scientists since large sums of the tax money went for the funding of enormous, annual science conventions, education, commercial transportation and public health. The main body, meaning the governmental buildings and most of the commercial and residential areas, of Piltover was situated upon a small mountain while the industrial and the lower-class quarters fanned out to the widely-spread marsh that surrounded the gigantic city. The still not fully explored fenland powered the city with its large natural resources, although that was becoming a growing and rather alarming issue as of late.

I really hope the Academy has something that'll lead me to greatness, he thought as he took the stairs down to the underground level. His apartment was on the third floor but he preferred heading down with his own two legs instead of using the elevator. Piltover is staring to lose its lead against Zaun but this afternoon, I'm going to be given the potential key of solution. This could be my grand opportunity—my breakthrough—and I'll finally be recognized for my profession.

Jayce unlocked the door to the underground parking lot and paced through the parallel rows of cars lining the walls by his sides. His nostrils filled with the characteristic smell of rubber, dirt and polished metal. The air was cool down there and he was alone, his shoes thudding softly against the concrete floor.

I wonder what Victor wants, he mused as he scratched his jaw, his light blue eyes scanning leisurely the hoods of the cars. He's not exactly someone who visits for old time's sake... though it's been a while since we last met. Maybe I am wrong and all he wants is some basic, human company.

Jayce finally reached the end of the basement floor and grinned, seeing his vehicle. It was a slim creation of steel and electricity, similar to the shape of a motorbike, that he had made completely on his own. The design was kept simple with a black leather seat and silver details and the dark, metallic frame was tinted in a deep blue hue. Instead of using tires and an engine fueled by Piltoveran Ecologic Gas, he had installed two strong, electromagnetic sensors shaped as rotatable cylinders that made the machine hover a couple of inches above the ground, even with his and another passenger's weight, when activated. The handmade vehicle was practical whenever he needed to be somewhere quickly within city since almost every street was made of a mixture with a high percentage of magnetic raw materials, but outside Piltover's boundaries, the bike-like machine's impressive speed and maneuverability lost all its usefulness. Jayce had yet to figure out a means to amend the problem, since he didn't want to tamper with either its size or its cheap function of driving on electricity, and frankly didn't think he would come up with a solution anytime soon. His dear creation would have to suffice for simple city trips.

As he at last arrived at the parking lot outside the police station with a fresh bouquet of ruffled-up lilies in his right hand and a helmet tucked underneath his left arm, Jayce was greeted by the familiar sound of the only two—human—women in his life and their incessant arguing. Even though their bickering could drive him crazy at times—once, they actually drew weapons at each other since what Caitlyn thought was "viola" was purple for Vi—it was obvious for any, albeit patient, observer that the two women cared fondly about the other and made a great team. He had been hesitant at first when Caitlyn told him about her loud partner, afraid that Vi might hurt or betray her, but she ignored his warnings and it seemed now later that he had been wrong about thinking bad about the pink-haired woman. He remembered it as if it had been yesterday, when every newspaper in Piltover reported the shocking facts that the city's most adored detective decided to let an ex-criminal become her partner. It had been outrageous, borderline scandalous, but the results that brew from the former thug could not be brushed lightly aside. The already low crime rate plunged drastically with the... unique addition to the police force and citizens and government officials eventually had to drop their complaints. Vi even became revered in some cases and a symbol of how far even a former delinquent could reach if he or she might only struggle for it.

"Excuse me?"

Jayce rolled his eyes when he saw a book fly out of the open window. "Ladies?" he tried as his eyes sceptically scrutinized the window, searching for more potential debris that could harm him when he passed.

"Oh come on! What's the damn problem? Are you on your monthly?" exclaimed a brutally sincere voice.

There was a loud groan. "Vi, you're well aware what I'm talking about," a lower voice said between gritting teeth. A warm feeling filled Jayce's chest and he smiled in recognition as he hastily strode past the window. "You cannot throw a table at the suspect. He was gravely wounded and even lost consciousness... I just bloody ordered it!"

"He didn't want to talk no matter how much you coaxed with him! What the fuck do you suggest I should have done? Offered more tea? Biscuits?" Someone snorted. "He begged for it."

Jayce rounded the corner of the building from where he had come from and walked towards the entrance of Caitlyn's secondary home. Or well, technically, she spent more time here than he did at her apartment, so the police station probably counted more as her primary lodging.

"Sometimes, Vi, you're a real pain in the arse. I hope you at least had the decency to apologize to him afterward."

"Are you out of your mind? I—" The owner of the voice immediately cut herself off.

"What precisely did you do?" Every word rang with heavy, threatening enunciation.

A chuckle. "Don't sound like that, cupcake; you know I always aim at doing my best."

"Vi."

Jayce stepped into the brick building and felt the soothing breeze of an air conditioner brush against his hair and neck. He ducked under a loose panel dangling from the lobby ceiling and surveyed the void station with surprise.

Ah, I guess that most of them are on their summer vacation, he thought as he passed through hollow seats and blank tables. Typical Caitlyn; takes the responsibility for every case in Piltover alone during these two relatively calm weeks. Or well, she has Vi—and me.

His relationship with the famous Sheriff was complicated but at the same time way too simple; they… weren't exactly a normal couple to say the least. He knew that Caitlyn didn't want anything permanent since she had told him "I'm married to my job", but his emotions for her were more than just of a friend's. Whenever she would fall asleep in his arms, Jayce would just close his eyes, imagining that Caitlyn felt something for him. Something strong. And that was mere illusion of course; the empty place next to him as he woke up was a constant reminder that she only saw them as mere fucking buddies.

His relationship with the infamous enforcer had started off rather complex, although not in the same way. During the first, awkward part of their acquaintanceship, Jayce had thought she was interested in him but when he attempted to confront her about it, she had always put on her humongous gauntlets and mumbled something about "gotta get my fists working", making him back off. That had initially given him the impression of being a very violent character, but as time slid past and he got to know her better and better, he realized that she was a very good person who always cared for the people around her. They had grown closer during the years and he nowadays considered her as one of his closest friends. Not that he had many. And he was still wary about her aggressive streak...

"…going to get sued. Do you hear that, Vi? Sued."

"Caitlyn darling, don't you worry. I'm relying on you to testify my complete innocence."

Jayce opened the door to the Sheriff of Piltover's office and knocked only afterward. Vi instantly glanced up at him and gave him a broad leer as she waved her unarmed hand.

"'Sup, handsome," she greeted and sprung out of Caitlyn's chair. She pointed at her partner and mouthed: monthly bleeding period has initiated. Be careful.

"Oh, I didn't hear you."

Caitlyn got off her desk and glanced at him over her shoulder. Her beautiful, green-blue eyes locked on the flowers he was holding and her pink lips drew into a happy smile.

"You really didn't have to," she said, a glimmer lighting up her eyes. "They'll probably wither in a couple of days, but thanks. Shall we take our leave?"

"Certainly," he replied and handed her the lilies. "To the usual place?"

She put the bouquet in a vase that Vi made a big gesture at giving her and turned back to Jayce.

"To the usual," she confirmed and opened a bottle of water resting on her desk, pouring the last of its contents in the vase. "You'll drive, right?"