"Long day, huh, John?"
Detective John Kennex and Dorian were sitting on the bench outside a popular noodle restaurant.
"It's always a long day," Kennex said to Dorian. "Why are you asking me about that, anyway? Out of the two of us, I'm the one who gets tired."
"You sure are," replied Dorian. "Tired and cranky."
"Well, it's not like you have to deal with it. Go find Rudy and ask for that extensive diagnostic he promised you."
"Ouch. And here I thought you actually wanted me to go and eat noodles with you."
"I did. Just not if you're going to nag me about how much sleep I'm getting." Kennex sighed with exasperation and took a long sip from the glass of mysterious green liquid the waitress had provided.
"Woah, not so fast," commented Dorian. "Do you even what's in that?"
"No," John admitted. "But I'm sure you could give me a complete analysis of the chemical composition, so I've decided not to be paranoid about it."
"While it's great that you trust me so much, don't you even want to know what this stuff is?" Dorian snatched the glass away from Kennex and held it up to the light. Tiny black particles drifted lazily through the clear green goo.
"What the hell is that?" asked Kennex.
"I'm not sure," answered Dorian. "All my visual sensors are telling is that it's non-toxic. Hang on." Gingerly, Dorian sipped a small amount of the liquid.
Kennex raised an eyebrow. "What, are you my food taster now? I didn't even know you could drink."
"I can't. That's a human-only pleasure. Fortunately for you, the inside of my stomach is like a mini laboratory. I'll have the results on the drink in a minute."
"Great, cause we're out of here already." Kennex tossed his noodle bowl into the recycler, and headed for the car.
"I'm driving," Dorian stated.
"What? No...no. I drive, you sit there and talk me to death."
"Uh, John? I said that beverage isn't poisonous, but it was still alcoholic. It still had some weird black particles floating around in it that I haven't been able to analyze. So would you please just let me drive?"
"Well, okay." John said, then he wondered why he had said that. He was feeling more mellow than he had for weeks. It was probably just the morale booster. The entire department applauding two broken-down, almost-human policemen who had somehow saved the day. But it had been a close one. All those hostages...including the man who had been thrown off of the building. John lay back in the seat, relaxing for almost the first time that day. Trying not to think about it too hard. He was actually somewhat glad that Dorian was the one driving. Or maybe it was the drink…
"John. John, we're at your apartment." It was true, the car was parked neatly and symmetrically in John's space. He got out of the car slowly, his head spinning just a little. "You let me doze off?"
"Looked like you needed the rest. I can handle driving the car anyway, John. Come on, up the stairs one at a time."
Kennex would have protested at being half-carried up the stairs to his third-story apartment by his partner, but he was just that tired. He'd let it go. Dorian wouldn't tell anybody.
"John, I need you to enter your access code," Dorian said. Eventually they got into the apartment. John mentally shook himself and managed to stagger over to a stool at the counter without Dorian's help. He pulled off his jacket, stiff with sweat from the day's exertions. Removed his gun holster. It was like an enormous weight had been lifted from his shoulders. He was comfortable, because this was home, even if it wasn't much. Even if he hadn't bothered to change things since he had come home from the hospital. Even if the place belonged to a younger, different, less-troubled John Kennex. He turned around and looked at Dorian looking at his place. "Well, does it fall under the category of 'home of a well-adjusted police detective'?" he asked. Dorian shook his head. "Definitely not. I'm betting you haven't touched this place since you got out of the hospital. Emotional stagnation like that isn't good, John."
"Of course," John scoffed. "I take you home to my place and all you can do is criticize."
"I wasn't criticizing," Dorian protested, "I was just making an observation. Also, it's more like you helped me bring you home to your place, because you were too tired to do anything else. What gives you the right to complain, man?"
"I told you not to say man!" Kennex practically shouted. Dorian shrugged. "If you say so, man." Kennex watched in (tired) disbelief as Dorian flopped onto the couch and starting flipping through the TV channels at hyperspeed.
"Do you even need to have the TV on to see the channels?" John asked incredulously.
"No," said Dorian. "But I like doing it the human way. I guess it's sort of comforting." He settled on a news special: "Police Put a Halt to Heist and Save Hostages."
John laughed. "Preening, Dorian?"
"Any chance I get to beat those emotionless MXs."
"Well, at least they won't preen if they beat you back."
"Hey John..?"
"What now?"
"Can I sleep over?"
Kennex had been nodding off again. He woke up in about two seconds. "Can you what?"
"Sleep. Over."
"But...you don't even sleep! And you need that diagnostic. I bet Rudy's getting pretty mad about that one already. And I don't need you to. I can take care of myself. All I need to do is pass out-wait, wait, wait where the heck do you go at night?"
Dorian laughed, somewhat bitterly. "I go and hang myself up on a wall, in the basement of the department with all the other synthetics. Then I power down until seven o'clock the next morning. John, the diagnostic can wait until tomorrow. Can't you just let me sleep-charge-on your couch?"
John thought about it for a few seconds. He was feeling relaxed and mellow again. "Okay," he said. "But you better not keep me up. Lights out in ten, you hear? Is there anything you need to plug in? And don't wake me up until at least an hour after you wake yourself up."
"I'll be fine, John. I'll be quiet. I really appreciate it. Just go do your human thing, and don't worry about me. Maybe I'll make even make you breakfast in the morning…"
"A cooking synthetic?" John snorted. He was still laughing to himself as he got ready for bed. "Lights out, Dorian!"
John woke up to his alarm at 9:00am. He managed to turn it off on the first try. He stretched slowly, but didn't feel too bad in spite of yesterday. He was feeling remarkable good, and he didn't have to go in to work until 5:00pm; it was a Saturday. But something was different about today. He sniffed the air, and smelled a delicious aroma barely remembered from his childhood-bacon, eggs, and pancakes. Who-oh. Dorian. He had been serious about making breakfast. John took care of recalibrating his synthetic leg, which had started squeaking again, and made his way into the living room/kitchen. Dorian was wearing an apron and scrambling eggs. John laughed as he took a seat at the table. He hadn't even known he had an apron; it must have come from the days before his coma.
"Breakfast is served," said Dorian. "My treat. I went out to the grocery store before you woke up, because frankly I am shocked by what I have seen in your refrigerator. You do know that there are breakfast foods other than pre-packaged, microwaved lumps of sludge, right?"
John dug into the pancakes. "This is good," he said.
"I'm good for you," Dorian replied. "Did you notice that you don't feel so bad this morning? I took the liberty of adjusting the temperature of the apartment to help you get the best possible sleep, and I changed the composition of your shower water to include healthful vitamins. Oh, and here's the olive oil, you'll be wanting it for your leg."
John accepted the olive oil and applied it to his synthetic leg. "Did you vacuum?" he asked.
"No. Why would I vacuum?"
"You want me to let you stay here again."
"Yeah, how did you guess?"
"I'm a detective. And making breakfast for me isn't exactly a subtle hint."
"Alright, I get it. Well, can I?"
"I'll think about it." John ate his breakfast in a leisurely manner while Dorian paced around the apartment nervously. He even found the vacuum cleaner and started vacuuming, while John watched the morning news and laughed to himself.
Kennex and Dorian arrived at the department together. Rudy was waiting for them. "Did the two of you have a good night?" he asked, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively. "I knew you would be good for him, Dorian, but I never thought he would actually take you home for some relaxation. It must be his synthetic body parts…"
"Looks like the two of you are best buddies now, huh Kennex?" Detective Richard Paul smirked. Kennex was glad that Valerie Stahl wouldn't be coming in until the day after tomorrow. That way, he wouldn't have to beat anyone up.
"Really? You'll let me stay?" Dorian was happy; by now he had convinced himself that Kennex would say no.
"Why not? You already heat my coffee, now I can get it with bacon and eggs in the morning."
"That's great. I'll be glad to. It'll save me a lot of trouble when you stop being so grumpy in the mornings."
"There's just one thing I need to ask you."
"Yes?"
"There was something in my drink last night. You're a synthetic-you wouldn't just forget about something like that. So what was it?"
"Just an organic compound, grown all over the world. Nothing to worry about."
"What was it?"
Dorian hesitated. "Okay, it does have a few small effects."
"Effects on what?"
"Mood. It's called the 'niceness plant' and studies have shown that it somewhat improves one's temperament for a limited period of time."
"And how long would that be?"
Dorian went through the motion of checking his watch, buying time. "It should wear off at about eight o'clock tonight," he said.
"You better hope I don't throw you out of my apartment when it wears off…"