DPD: Dry pancake decorator

Red flames and white ashes: part 1

Connor couldn't concentrate on his work. Not really. Not when his RK900 brethren was standing right beside Gavin's desk, watching the detective work. The RK900 was patiently waiting for his new desk to be cleared and in the meantime was looking through case files with Gavin. There was an uneasy understanding between those two but Connor could see they both bore moderate stress levels. It was actually surprising how much their stress levels matched one another. Times like this, Connor wished he was designed with better multitasking capabilities. He wasn't really getting anything done.

"What's up, kid?"

Connor turned to Hank, who looked at him with mild concern. He frowned. "I'm a bit worried about them."

Hank glanced to see the RK900 say something to Gavin, who responded by calmly and rationally covering up his ears and going "la la la la la".

"They'll get better," Hank said.

"Really?" Connor asked incredulously.

"I dunno. I hope so, for both our sakes. They're technically our new bosses."

Gavin put his face into his arms as the RK900 continued to talk. A few people turned and stared but said nothing—not within a certain radius, that is. No else knew about the RK900 until now. If Fowler didn't want publicity, they were off to a bad start.

"There's a difference between you and Gavin. Behind your gruff exterior, there is a kind person in you. Gavin's just mean all around." Connor glanced warily at Gavin. "If you are a gentle giant, Gavin's…well…a troll."

Gavin suddenly stood up and turned to the RK900, arms crossed. An argument broke out but without context, it didn't make any sense. Something about namecalling, Connor gathered.

"Well, at least he's better than he used to be. I mean, he ain't attacking you no more and apart from slamming the android to the wall, he ain't done anything to RK900 either." Hank shrugged. "Maybe he's changed. Maybe this'll be good for him. You never know."

The shouting got louder. Connor noticed Fowler glaring in their direction. He knew that look. Fowler had very distinct looks. Go and fix it, his eyes said.

Hank saw the look and his face fell. He understood what it meant too. With a sigh, the lieutenant lifted himself off his seat and shuffled his way up to Gavin's desk. Connor followed obediently as he always did.

The arguing didn't stop as they approached. In fact, it only seemed to get louder. Connor had to lower the playback volume slightly so he could tolerate the decibel level.

"Alright, you two, that's enough." Hank said, cutting in between Gavin and the RK900 and pushing them both back. "You mind telling me what the hell's got your nipples twisted?"

"Ugh, thank god you're here, Hank." Gavin muttered, gesturing at the RK900. "Maybe you can tell him to shut up while I'm working."

Hank rubbed his nose bridge, turning to the RK900. "What'd you say?"

"As part of the privacy act, certain functions can only be performed after I am fully registered to my owner."

"And how do we register you?"

"Detective Gavin Reed must give me a name, " The RK900 said simply.

Hank facepalmed. Connor would too but felt that Hank's reaction was more than enough for the two of them.

"Gavin," Hank groaned, "give the fucking android a name."

"Hell no. Why do I have to give it a name?"

"Oh, I don't know, because it's YOURS?!"

"Look, I agreed to babysit the android and I'm doing that. What I didn't agree with was becoming its daddy."

"Please, even if I was a child android, you couldn't handle me." The RK900 scoffed sardonically.

Connor bit back an exclamation of surprise. The RK900 had been showing signs of deviancy from the beginning but it was hard to tell if he was designed to be deviant from the beginning, developed it early, or if something else triggered its deviancy. It reminded Connor of when he first came into this world, denying all that made him human and unique, denying his own deviancy.

Fortunately, or unfortunately, Gavin didn't notice the deviant behaviour. He was too busy arguing with Hank. "Anyway," Gavin shot a malicious look to the android, "I ain't naming it."

"Aw, come on, Gavin, just do it. Look, we can come up with names. Thinking up baby names is fun, right?" Hank smiled nervously.

Gavin was unamused. "Shouldn't you be finishing filing the paperwork?"

"Look, I'm giving you a lifeline here. I suggest you take it or leave it. Because I sure as hell can leave it."

Hank jabbed Connor lightly in the gut. He felt no pain but the reflexes built into him kicked in. "Y-Yeah," Connor added quickly, trying to regain control over his breath regulators. "We can totally make up…names?"

Gavin's face scrunched up in thought for a few seconds. When he looked up, he let out a long sigh. "Fine. Help me come up with names. But nothing stupid or silly, got it?"

"I always thought you might like silly names." It was Connor's best guess. He could never get a proper read on Gavin.

"Look, I'm not a fucking retard, I ain't gonna give an android a stupid name for some cheap laughs." Gavin collapsed into his seat and crossed his arms, eyes narrowed in thought. "Go on, now."

"O...K…" Hank clearly didn't expect being put on the spot so suddenly. "Er…what about John?"

"Boring."

"Francis?"

"No."

"Davy?"

"Why do you know so many old names? No. I ain't calling it Davy. Well, not unless it's got a locker I don't know about." Gavin chuckled for a bit at his own joke before gesturing at Connor. "What about you? Give me something."

"Uh…" Connor was certainly creative in some areas but coming up with names was definitely not in his programming. He quickly read through a few websites on baby names he found online. He thought it might give him ideas but it only made his head spin. Why did humans have so many names? Why can't they have series names and numbers, like any other android? So much more simple.

"You don't have a fucking clue either, do you?"

"N-No, I have a name." Connor lied. He scanned his new databank on names for something he thought Gavin might like. "How about…Aloysius?"

Gavin blanked. "…You're even worse than Hank."

The detective turned back to his computer, looking through his files once again. Connor recognised some of them. Some of those cases were the ones assigned to Hank and himself.

"Why do you have our cases?" Connor asked.

Gavin sighed loudly and swivelled round in his chair, putting his feet up on the table. His hands were placed behind his head. "Since I'm the one babysitting all of you, Fowler gave me a copy of your cases to look at. The android crime division is, after all, under homicide."

"For the time being," Hank clarified.

Gavin ignored Hank. "Anyway, I have to look through your cases, see if it matches any of mine. Thought that'd be the best place to start."

Hank hummed in agreement. Connor thought it was strange to see Gavin act professionally, but judging by Hank's reaction it wasn't all that uncommon. When Gavin didn't let his personal prejudices blind him, he could be quite smart. Perhaps that was why Fowler still held him with some regard. Fowler was a good judge of character, Connor found.

Gavin tilted his head to the RK900. "It got all batshit about the 'registering' thing because I couldn't transfer the info to it. Stupid android."

"If that's the case, I can try transferring it myself," Connor said. "Android-android communication is a lot less moderated than android-human communication."

"Whatever," Gavin muttered. Connor figured that was as close to consent he was going to get with Gavin. Connor leaned over Gavin to reach the computer, ignoring the detective squirming underneath him, and quickly downloaded all of Gavin's cases. He stood upright (Gavin releasing a breath of relief) and turned to the RK900. The data transfer began. Their LEDs shone yellow. Connor couldn't help but blink rapidly. The RK900 didn't have the same problem.

The transfer took only seconds. Once the LED on its temple shone blue, the RK900 spoke. "There are two cases that match."

Connor frowned. He only finished cross-referencing the files now. Gavin motioned the RK900 to continue.

"As Detective Reed suggested, it is probably best that we all run by a case together. It will promote interpersonal and intrapersonal communication between the four of us."

Gavin's nose wrinkled. "Ever heard of too many cooks spoil the broth, bot? We'll stick to the usual two per case. Hank, Connor, you're reporting every move and every action to me."

"Oh, come on." Hank moaned.

"I don't like this either, but the last thing I want is for any of you to screw it up." Gavin's eyes regard the people before him, one by one. "If we're working together then we're fucking working together. And if we're fucking working together, then we need to bring our A game."

"More like 'A-team' for me." Hank chuckled.

"You do realize I'm the only one who could possibly understand that reference."

Hank looked hopefully at Gavin. "And do you?"

"No."

Hank sighed reminiscently. Connor made a note to search up 'A-team' when he got home.

"Anyway, lieutenant, detectives," the RK900 interrupted, "I have analysed the cases and I think I have determined which two each pair shall undertake."

Connor listened to the RK900 talk even if he knew most of this stuff already. He didn't really pay attention to their words anyway. He was mostly observing Gavin, one hand propping up his head, unblinking eyes taking in the world.

For someone who had an even greater hatred for androids, Gavin was surprisingly docile. Much as he respected Hank's experience, he couldn't help but disagree on Hank's views. Gavin held a deep rage for androids, far deeper than Hank's ever was, and Connor doubted the root cause of it was so easily explainable. He was certain that Gavin was just keeping it to himself, letting it fester and boil, and one day he will erupt. Connor did not want to be there when Gavin erupted.

Then again, Gavin was listening intently, taking RK900's words seriously. Maybe Hank was right, maybe Gavin would also get over his unnatural hatred for androids. Connor hoped Hank was right. For both their sakes, he really did.


On the outskirts of metropolitan Detroit, Gavin and the RK900 strolled into a house. It was nondescript and plain and looked exactly like every other house on the street were it not for the whirling red/blue lights, the yellow tape, and the numerous cop cars, fire trucks, and ambulances around. As they bypassed the yellow tape, two paramedics carry a body, covered head to toe in white cloth. The RK900 could faintly hear the (presumably) male victim groan before hoarsely coughing. A black substance seemed to coat the cloth from the inside out, quite likely from the victim. CARBON MONOXIDE POISONING, his mind prompted.

The RK900 hesitantly noted the probability of the victim surviving was less than 50%. It debated whether or not telling the human paramedics.

"What're you doing?" Gavin waved impatiently. "Get your tin can ass in here."

Perhaps the victim was lucky, the RK900 thought. At least it didn't have to deal with a certain Detective Gavin Reed.

A few days ago when the RK900 was first notified that he will be under the care of Detective Reed, it didn't think much of it. Captain Fowler was gracious enough to provide some basic information about the detective: namely that the detective was rude, obnoxious, hates androids with a vengeance, and brilliant. Not just brilliant, brilliant, the way the word was said seemed to highlight how special Gavin was. Clearly, the captain had high hopes for the detective and despite all the negative traits he listed, the RK900 was willing to give this partnership a try, secure in the knowledge that if the detective was too much trouble, it could always just switch partners or transfer to another precinct.

The RK900 wasn't gullible like its descendent was. It knew it was part of the captain's gambit. The RK900 was a secret test, designed to prove Gavin Reed was capable of putting away his personal prejudices for justice, much in the same way it had worked with Hank Anderson.

Of course, the RK900 had its own reasons for joining the DPD. Reasons that will never come to life, it hoped. That was one benefit of working with the detective: no small talk. With no small talk, there was no risk of discovery.

The pair entered through the front door and found half the house burned to ashes.

It was a double story house once upon a time but the fire had made most of the second floor collapse onto the first floor. The scorch marks on the ceiling alongside the level of rubble proved it to the RK900. The remains of a queen-sized bed lied haphazardly on top of a couch. Quite likely it fell from the master bedroom above. The underside of the bed was scorched but also, curiously enough, one of the posts. The RK900 tilted its head. TWO SOURCES OF FIRE?

Gavin wasted no time interviewing the first responder, the firefighter who was called to the place. The detective seemed annoyed, and rightly so. When the RK900 chose this case, it claimed to be a homicide case possibly involving an android. There was nothing about fire or arson anywhere. This should've been for the arson squad.

Gavin took out his phone, pulling up a note app. The RK900 noted thousands of notes accumulated over the years. This must be the detective's primary note taking tool. "So you're the first responder?"

The woman nodded. She must have noticed the detective's annoyance because she kept her explanation as succinct as possible. She got a call from a neighbor and headed onto the scene where she found the fire. She suspected there were two fires but thought their positioning too suspicious to have been lit accidentally.

"So why is this a homicide case?"

"Same neighbour claimed they thought they saw an android run away from the scene of a crime, acting all jumpy." She tapped to her right temple. "Said she saw one a' them LEDs."

She said nothing else of interest, sauntering over to the next person who needed her statement. The RK900 observed Gavin peering curiously at the men talking to the lady firefighter. Their gazes were curious, far softer and far different from the detective's. A scoff escaped Gavin's lips.

"The power of horniness compels all," Gavin muttered under his breath.

The RK900's LED flashed yellow. "Horniness?"

Gavin turned to the RK900, as if only now just realizing it was there. "You don't know?" The detective chuckled sardonically. "So you're not a genius. Need me to walk you through the birds and the bees while I'm at it?"

The RK900 folded its arms in front of itself. It knew the detective was trying to antagonize it but he was good at this. This clearly wasn't the first time the detective had done this. INFERIORITY COMPLEX, the RK900 noted. "I'm not talking about its textbook definition, detective. What I am enquiring specifically is how you came to the conclusion that those men are horny."

"Just take one look at them."

The RK900 did. It also scanned them, just in case. "They are respectable officers of the law. No criminal records, no serious medical issues."

"Yeah, but they're also fucking ugly as hell."

The RK900 scanned them again. None of them had ever been married. Most of them were in their mid-30s. "…They are ugly though."

"Right? I mean, seriously?" Gavin gestured wildly at the men in question. The RK900 didn't know if the men noticed the movement or not. Quite likely they did and were ignoring him Probably wise, it thought. "Can't believe people use a crime scene to score."

"You make it sound like it's a common occurrence."

"If there's a hot chick involved, yeah, it is."

The RK900 shrugged. "Anything looks hot after a fire."

Gavin laughed and it took the android by surprise.

It was a strange laugh. One that bubbled out of the man's throat in short, intermittent bursts and the RK900 couldn't help but note how uncharacteristic it sounded coming from Detective Reed. It was clear that the detective had very little social skills and quite likely was the kind who enjoyed the misery of others. A typical bully personality, his systems presented, which made his laugh even more curious. For a man with such explosive behaviour, he could be quite…quiet. There was nothing obnoxious about his laughter. In fact, it sounded quite placid and pleasant.

Gavin turned to the RK900 and immediately stopped laughing. Self consciously, the RK900 put its fingers up to the flashing yellow LED.

SOFTWARE INSTABILITY ^

Blink blink. What was that warning?

"Ahem!" Gavin cleared his throat loudly, regaining his typical asshole-ish personality. "We've seen all we need to, tin can, so let's get the fuck out."

"You don't want to look around?"

"No need. Arson squad just arrested a suspect. Fowler transferred the case to us. We gotta interview the perp."

The RK900 looked at the message from Gavin's phone and nodded. It had some knowledge on fires, but some things were best left to the experts.

"Come on, let's get going."

It turned to Gavin. "Why don't you simply choose a name?"

"Huh?"

It approached Gavin, closing the distance slowly. "You've had ample time to mull over your options. Register my name."

"Later. After the case." Gavin pointed a finger threateningly at the android. "And don't bug me about it until then, got it?"

The RK900 had no choice but to relent. Gavin may not be fully registered as its owner but his words still held weight over him.

It followed Gavin to his car, a sleek and well-maintained machine. It didn't get in immediately. Its first instincts was to scan the vehicle and make sure it's road worthy. It was surprised to find it was a limited edition model with a unique paint job. The interior was decorated in dark brown leather, similar to the detective's jacket, and it was all spotless. No dust particle in sight. RK900 was impressed. LIKES CARS? the RK900 added to his new file on Detective Reed.

"Are you going to fucking get in already? 'Cause I ain't paying for a cab or bus for you."

The RK900 reluctantly entered the vehicle through the passenger seat. The detective got in, put his keys into the ignition and revved the engine. Gavin waited for a few seconds as the engine warmed up.

"Plastic piece of shit," Gavin muttered under his breath.

"Meat bag bitch," The RK900 mumbled.

SOFTWARE INSTABILITY ^