Chapter 18/20: Separated

"I'm not a dog." - Connor Anderson

...in which our two leads deal with separate - albeit connected on a larger scale - problems and prove that they're very much capable on their own (...yet better together.) They're also both idiots as they have the habit of jumping to conclusions.

GAVIN

~ MARCH 10TH, 2039 * PM 09:21 ~

Things were hectic these days at the DPD, but it wasn't the first time.

Gavin was used to it at this point. The experience came from dealing with the android homicides back in 2038, the revolution, the cases on red ice, Zlatko's sick workshop of modified androids, followed by CyberLife digging up his past being the final nail on the coffin. Now the main attraction of the precinct was cases involving human supremacist groups triggered by androids being given equal rights.

These people continuously chose to pick on androids instead of the actual threat going by the name of CyberLife. Gavin had been there, but he had also been able to put aside his prejudice.

Not everyone had that epiphany.

The DPD had just gotten a call regarding a gunshot, and after the police arrived at the area, all they found was the homicide victim. The suspect was nowhere to be seen and had likely dipped long ago. When he and Connor arrived, he didn't know what to expect, holographic police tape around the surrounding areas. The reporters and pedestrians did, of course, follow as per usual. He recognized Person and Brown among the officers - nothing out of the ordinary - until he let his attention drift to the man Brown was talking to.

He could recognize the nape of that neck anywhere.

"You've gotta be fucking kidding me..."

Connor gave him a cautious look. "Is everything all right?"

Not bothering to answer, Gavin just stopped the engine and tore up the car door. He had it slammed back shut before rounding the vehicle and setting his course with purpose. Part of him wanted to simply ask Connor if he wanted to handle the case on his own so he didn't have to deal with it. Nevertheless, he was professional enough to separate his personal life from work.

To an extent.

"'Clayton,' huh? That's a new one."

When the man turned, the concentrated expression on his face mellowed.

"Gav?"

The fuck are you doing here, Craig? Thought you were in Tampa, he wanted to ask, but the lump in his throat didn't allow him. He hadn't seen him in over a decade. Craig Adler's family name had been connected to the exposed fight club and thus it was only natural he needed to have it changed. His prison sentence only lasted for two years, so lo and behold, he'd long been a free man.

Gavin looked past him to the crime. "I take it you're the guy who called in a case thirty minutes ago or did I get the wrong address?"

Clearly, it was the right one.

The joke didn't stick.

Craig opened his mouth only to close it again, his back straightening as Connor approached with his attention directed elsewhere. Thank god he wasn't the type to get all personal in front of strangers.

One of the similarities between them that made them click in the first place.

"Yeah. Yeah, I was."

"Aces," he said, trying his best to seem uninterested. Gavin folded his arms across his chest. "Well? Speak up."

A hint of disappointment touched Craig's expression when he looked back. Or maybe it was simply Gavin's eyes betraying him. Connor, naturally, could tell there was some history there judging by his more 'confused puppy' look than usual. Nevertheless, the glare Gavin shot him had him remain quiet. Connor could take a hint that this wasn't a conversation he was willing to have.

Craig was about Gavin's height, shoulders only a tad less broad than his, his physique just a fraction smaller. 38 years of age. His delicately tousled light brown quiff hairstyle - with about three inches in length - was kept mostly upright by a small amount of hair gel. Clean-shaven although a five o'clock shadow was lurking on the horizon. Amber eyes. He'd kept the mostly minimalistic tribal tattoo on his right arm that Gavin personally knew covered the pec beneath the brown long-sleeved Henley he was wearing.

He was an attractive guy, always had been, such an observation being the first thing that caught Gavin's attention before they started dating. Prison sure didn't change any of that.

After what he did to him, Gavin hoped the guy would hit rock bottom and stay there. That sure didn't seem to be the case. Things hadn't been the same since they broke up as Gavin had given up pursuing something important to him. A relationship. Seeing him again brought back memories - both good and bad ones - and he found the longing for something deeper with someone increase tenfold. The past few weeks he'd tried to return to the dating life in attempt to get back to his old self. It was difficult, and the underlying fear remained, making it worse.

Life kept throwing curveballs that he found himself unable to dodge.

The last thing he needed was to see his most recent ex again, but there he was, right in front of him. Again, he wanted to run. Yet he wasn't about to give Craig any more power.

He'd taken enough.

Thankfully, Craig went to the point. "I just passed through on my way to a friend. Think I knew the assailant. We, uh... worked together. Way back," he replied, clearly referring to the fight club. "Still, I can't be sure. All I caught before he booked it was a glimpse of this jacket the guy used to wear. Isn't exactly one of a kind so a lot of other people probably have it, but fuck, one can't be too sure."

Gavin wasn't too keen to keep talking to him any more than necessary, but his input could be invaluable.

"I've gotta see the scene, so stay right here. I may have a few more questions."

"Sure. Okay," he replied, before following up with a joke. "As long as I don't have to pay for parking, I'm not going anywhere."

Unable to help himself, Gavin puffed a laugh. "You're good."

After investigating the homicide, Gavin had been standing over the human victim, letters forming the word 'TIN CAN SYMPATHISER' capitalized on the wall in red to reveal the suspect's motivations. The groups that were responsible for these android hate-crime homicides had formed and spread across the country ever since the revolution succeeded - one case more extreme than the other - so the precinct had never been busier. He'd seen some fucked up things working at the DPD and these guys were among the downright psychotic bunch.

The past two months, Gavin had worked his ass off, eventually managing to regain his 'sergeant' rank. The last remaining weeks in January had been tough, but he'd finally started to feel like himself again.

Colleagues had expressed concern for his well-being as he was overworking again - concerns that he simply ignored as it was none of their business - but Connor had managed to get under his skin. Stepped in. Aside from Tina, he was the only one he actually listened to. He still kept Hank at an arm's length. Hank, however, had started to treat him more like he did back then. Fatherly. Like he was aware of what happened and tried to atone for it. Gavin couldn't be sure how that came to his attention. Why Hank gave a damn.

He told himself that he couldn't care less although the truth was anything but.

When they were done, they approached Craig now halfway-standing and halfway-sitting on his Moto Guzzi Stelvio motorcycle. A lot of things were left unsaid - hanging in the air - so he was just glad Connor was by his side to avoid anything unrelated to the case. Staring down at the phone in his hand, Craig's eyes ascended only when they approached.

He again straightened his back. "Got the culprit?"

"Clearly you've forgotten who you're talking to. 'Course I did," Gavin replied, watching Craig fondly rolling his eyes. It was very like him. Gavin flagged it off and crossed his arms. "Any chance the guy went by the name of 'Liam Steele'?"

"That's the one."

"Know the address?"

"Uh... kinda? I know the building. If he still lives there, that is."

"Then get those wheels in motion and take us there," he said, releasing his arms before setting course for the car. Craig pocketed his phone again and Gavin didn't allow him to respond. "Hey, Con. We done here?"

"Yes," he replied.

When Connor first approached Gavin with the request to work a case with him, he couldn't help but grow suspicious. It was simply part of his character. Although it took some convincing - and Hank encouraging Connor to keep trying after Gavin repeatedly refused out of stubbornness - he gave in. It worked out better than expected. One case led to another until them collaborating became a common occurrence. Connor's polite interactions with him no longer felt forced as, after a time, Gavin came to realize that the tin can was really trying.

Connor genuinely wanted to form a friendly, working relationship with him, and in no way did he feel obligated to do so. Becoming friends with your coworkers wasn't a requirement. Gavin had from the start believed him to be fake taking the toothy smile into consideration, but as it turned out, Connor was simply awkward and even slightly scared of interacting with Gavin despite wanting to.

Prejudice was a bitch.

/ "Connor's sweet. Give him a chance," / Tina's voice echoed in his mind, bringing him back. Again, she'd been right. So he gave him that chance. Gavin even outright apologized at one point.

In return, Connor seemed to be able to relax far more when around him.

He'd go as far as to call him a friend.

A lot of things had changed.

Once seated in the car and on their way over to the aforementioned address, Gavin's lips had been pressed into a thin line. He'd kept a solid focus on the MC before them and didn't speak the entire way. Connor, much to his relief, hadn't pried. It was a nice change as Gavin was used to being constantly poked and prodded by a certain other RK-unit. Craig really wasn't a bad guy at heart. He knew that. Guy had been pressured by his father to maintain said fight club, so amidst it all, Gavin was in no way the only victim. It was a fucked up situation.

Regardless, he couldn't help but be salty about everything that happened. It had too big of an impact on his life and not for the better.

The address wasn't too far off, so in fifteen minutes, they'd arrived. Craig - not being a cop - stayed outside as they investigated. Walking up to the suspect's door, Gavin drew his gun.

Just as Connor was about to step forward, his path was barricaded by Gavin's arm.

"Stay behind me."

"Gavin, the suspect is likely armed -"

"My point exactly. Whoever the fuck this guy is clearly has an android hate-boner, so you're gonna get fucking peppered with bullet holes. At least he'd think twice before pulling the same stunt on me," he replied, pushing Connor back. Gavin shot a gaze over his shoulder to ask if he was ready, but the softness that had overcome Connor's expression made him all-too-aware of his own words. Gavin had to regain his pride and gritted his teeth. "Listen, dipshit. Hank's gonna kick my ass if anything happens to you, so stay the fuck behind me."

Connor blinked. "I -"

Nevertheless, he cut himself off. Then, after a brief moment of hesitation, Connor nodded.

"That's a good boy."

"I'm not a dog."

"Might as well be one," he said, resulting in Connor's confused head tilt that only empowered his statement. Gavin turned his attention back to the door before kicking it open. "DPD, hands were I can see 'em!"

The suspect saw them the moment the barricade was removed, eyes going wide, making the decision to bolt. Fucker was quick, he'd give him that. A bookshelf was pulled from the wall as Gavin fired the bullet for it to hit the wood instead of the suspect behind it. He was unable to recollect his thoughts before Connor - with the speed of a lightning strike - was in front of him.

Gavin cursed. "Con, fucking hell!"

Having no other choice, he fell into his steps. Keeping up with him didn't prove too difficult although Connor was slightly faster. Rounding the knocked-over bookshelf, Gavin dipped around the corner to see the suspect heading for the balcony with Connor hot on his heel. The suspect was human, and they were currently at the fifth floor, so Gavin had no idea what he was thinking. However, he reached the balcony to see that there was a roof beneath. The suspect threw himself onto said roof and Connor followed.

He weighed his options.

Fuck it.

If that guy could do it, then hell, so could he.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," Gavin cursed under his breath, taking speed before vaulting over the banister. "Oh, shit!"

He managed to stick the landing, mending the impact by a forward roll over his shoulder. Wasn't it for said roll - taking the weight off of his legs - he surely would've broken them both.

Then again, this wasn't his first time giving chase. He knew his limits.

The suspect fired behind him, bullet going through Connor's shoulder and impact throwing it back, Gavin's breath getting caught in his throat. Connor didn't have his successor's sturdier plating. Had that bullet landed just a few inches down and to the left, it would've hit his thirium pump regulator, Gavin's protective instincts kicking in for history not to repeat itself.

He didn't exactly have any spare parts with him.

Reaching the end of the first roof, Gavin barged into an abrupt halt instead of jumping onto the next, seeing the suspect moving in a straight line. Gavin rose his gun and fired into his leg. The shot had the suspect release a pained sound, nearly tripping, slowed down enough for Connor to tackle him to the ground.

They had him.

With a relieved sigh, Gavin lowered the firearm. He reached behind him and grabbed the handcuffs before throwing them over. Connor, naturally, caught them with ease. Gavin dropped down to his level.

"I'll inform the DPD our mission was a success once we -"

"The fuck were you thinking, plastic?" Gavin demanded, scowling deeply as he pointed to the ground before him. "I told you to stay behind me!"

"I had to catch the suspect."

"What you had to do was stay the fuck behind me! What is it with you RK's and your fucking incapability of following orders? Now you're leaking thirium all over the place!"

Connor smirked. "Efficiency, sergeant."

"Oh! Oh, you've downloaded a fucking sass function now? Great. That's exactly what I needed."

"Said function ensures our bromance remains intact," he teased, Gavin ready to snap before Connor took a serious tone. "I'm okay, Gavin."

Yeah, you fucking better be.

In no way was he prepared to get soft for the OG plastic detective. Yet he in no way saw him as a replacement, either. Connor and Nines were individuals and that was exactly what he saw them as.

Their personalities were entirely different and their appearance mostly so, too. Aside from Nines' darker voice, his lighter eyes and stronger jawline were the biggest differences aside from his overall stronger - and taller - physique. Connor was more pristine when it came to his hair while Nines' was a bit more tousled. Then there was Nines' stoicism paralleled with Connor's expressive demeanor.

For smaller details, Nines didn't have that dark spot under his left ear as Connor did. Nines' cheekbones were less prominent and his lips only a fraction fuller. Gavin felt like he knew Nines' body a tad bit too well considering they'd only ended up in bed once. Then again, he'd clearly made the most out of it, his memory vivid. He was sober enough to remember every little detail and thus sober enough to give consent. That extra push was needed in order to do something - anything at all - and he couldn't say he regretted it.

The only thing he regretted at first was letting him go.

After two months of Nines not picking up his calls, however, he thought differently. The radio silence proved just how little Plastic Prick 2.0 cared about him. He didn't pay much mind to it at first, knowing the SWAT were a busy bunch, but the wait had been too long even for them. It was both a blessing and a curse. Taking that into consideration - knowing the pain would've been inevitable - Gavin was glad that he didn't pursue anything with him. He'd managed to save himself from the heartbreak. Knowing that, he felt better, atop of his game.

Having been through this before, he did just fine without him.

It just took some time to realize it.

"Thanks for the assist," he said, cigarette in mouth as he watched Connor put the suspect into the arrived patrol car.

"Anytime. Glad I could help," Craig replied, unable to ignore the feeling of the air growing thicker. Gavin, for a reason he refused to admit, showed no signs of moving. Craig noticed his hesitation. "You look good."

...and here goes.

Gavin let out a scoff. "What, you surprised?"

"I didn't mean it like that."

Judging by Craig's tone, he was sincere, but Gavin didn't know what to believe at this point. How could he? It had been over a decade and a lot of things had changed. He kept telling himself that he didn't care, and yet, there he was. All he had to do was return to the car. He couldn't bring himself to leave just yet, and frankly, it pissed him off.

There was nothing to get out of this.

"Yeah, sure you didn't," he replied dismissively, chucking the cigarette aside before stomping it. Gavin turned to glare at him. "You wanna speak up, speak up. I don't have all day."

His answer wasn't immediate. "I'm just trying to apologize."

Gavin laughed at that.

"Okay, fuck, that's rich. You deluded enough to think I cry myself to sleep after a whole fucking decade? Newsflash, jackass. I never did."

"Maybe not, but I did. A couple times, actually," he replied, Gavin's amused expression shortly falling. He was unable to look away when the soft - regretful - smile emerged on Craig's lips. "Fuck, I know you were the one that had me thrown into the bullpen and I don't blame you for it. You did the right thing. No offense, Gav... but do you really think I would've been able to deal with your attitude for over two years if I didn't give a damn? I'd be pissed that you ratted me out was that not the case. We had a good thing going on."

"Yeah, well, you're twelve years late to the bus terminal. Tough luck."

"Twelve, huh? You counted," he replied, making Gavin realize his mistake. Amber eyes fell to his left hand. "New Year's Eve 2025 - when I asked you where you saw yourself in a decade - you said you wanted a ring."

"I was twenty-fucking-three. I said a lot of things. None of it relevant today."

For a moment, Craig just looked at him. Like Nines did when he was being analyzed.

"Both of us know that's bullshit," he said, folding his arms across his chest. "Unless you've had a complete character shift, that's still in there."

Gavin got right into his face. "You don't know me."

Nevertheless, Craig remained undisturbed. Unbothered. He kept his eyes pinned and showed no signs of backing off.

"I know that you're the most insecure guy I've ever met," he started dotting down, Gavin swallowing hard. He was only able to maintain eye contact for a split second before breaking it. "I know how cute you get when you're excited about something. That if some lucky bastard gains your favor, they're set for life, able to count on you for anything. That you need to be in control. That you don't allow yourself to be vulnerable so it can't be used against you... I know that you lash out, run, and close yourself off when you're scared."

Craig paused. "I don't wanna dig up old graves, Gav. I just need you to know that I'm aware I fucked up big time. I fucked up and I regret it," he added, Gavin's jaw clenching. "Stay safe out there, all right?"

Releasing his arms, Craig seated himself on the MC.

Lips pressed into a thin line, Gavin's eyes closed tightly shut.

Don't -

"Fuck. Wait..."

NINES

~ MAY 19TH, 2039 * PM 10:45 ~

"About fucking time you guys showed up," came a familiar voice on the comm, Nines registering it as Captain Allen. A voice of which he had only heard through the memories of Connor. "It's been a hot zone down here."

Nines stood in the opening of the helicopter, surveying the surrounding area.

He couldn't see much from his current angle.

"What's your team's status?"

"I've lost three men to these lunatics. Those left are safe for now, but time's running out to get this shit under control. I hear someone had the bright idea not to debrief you, so ask your questions as long as you keep it short."

"Give me the details."

"We're dealing with what seems to be an entire cult of human supremacists that wasn't too big on the newly-accumulated android rights. They set up in Midtown and has been acting under the radar ever since androids were declared equal. Killing off dozens. Mental torture. It's not just androids, either. Android sympathizers are all fair game to them. It started off as isolated incidents - what seemed to be smaller cases handled by the DPD - but this time they got sloppy and the SWAT got involved realizing how serious it was."

"Hostages?"

"As far as I can tell? Eight. Human and android. Wouldn't surprise me if there was more."

Off in the distance, he could see Allen atop a building with two fingers pressed to his earpiece as he paced the area.

The suspects were holed up in a nearby warehouse below.

"We'll be right there."

It had been over four months since he left the DPD. After his transfer to the State Department, they didn't waste another moment to deploy him to the field, shortly putting him in charge of his own unit. Alpha team one. He was the first android captain that had ever been allowed on the very top branch and was just done adjusting. Finally in his element, he excelled at his work, bringing in fast results. His focus was unparalleled and casualties minimized. Then again, not everyone was happy with an android being in charge.

He had to deal with a lot of attitude. If it wasn't for Nines' patience, he likely would've snapped.

The fact that some people believed they were more skilled than him in what he was literally designed for was pathetic. Insulting, even. Nevertheless, they had no choice but to work with him. It took some time - several successful missions later as Nines hadn't failed a single one thus far - but he'd finally gained his entire team's trust. At this point, he could count on them with his life.

Nines was in his element, certainly, but he didn't really feel at home. Work was his first as well as last defense. It bothered him far more back when he accomplished his first few missions - feeling like a husk carrying out orders - but he started to accept that things were never going to be perfect. It became a pattern. A mantra. He was used to it. What he was dealing with now mirrored Connor's struggles with finding himself. Nines, however, hadn't gotten that far. He wasn't sure who he was or where he belonged.

Helicopter parked atop the building, he jumped out.

"Connor?"

Brow arching, he looked over to see Captain Allen approach.

"Not exactly," he replied as he fully turned, taking a firm grip around his assault rifle. "My name is Nines. Connor - my predecessor - currently works at the DPD. I was specifically designed for this type of mission."

Allen gave him the side-eye. "Well, you fucking better be," he replied with skepticism, not having entirely gotten over his past dislike for androids. "Those hostages are as good as dead unless we do something. We're ready to step in at any given moment - save as many as we can - but I'm all ears if you've got a better plan. Higher-ups sure as hell seemed to think so."

"With all due respect, Captain. The fact that you and your men chose to fire before negotiating is the testament of it."

"Listen up, 'Nines'," he replied, getting right into his face. "You might be new to this, but these guys don't fuck around. Negotiation isn't an option. I don't know what you can do better than my team, but you better deal with this right now."

With that, Nines walked up to the ledge.

"Heat detectors. I can map out everyone in the building as well as pre-construct the best approach. Such a thing will make the extraction of the hostages far easier with a significantly smaller risk of casualties. There are currently thirteen armed men - five patrolling the outer perimeter and eight inside - as well as ten hostages. Three humans and seven androids."

"Shit," Allen muttered under his breath, lining himself up next to him. "We're gonna need both our units. I'm three out of six men down, so we'll shift our focus to extracting the hostages."

"Agreed."

"See another way in?"

"The backdoor is guarded by two armed men, but we can easily dispose of them," he replied, pointing to a nearby building. "I already had two of my own relocated to this position that will provide covering fire should we choose to take this approach. Their scopes are trained at the suspects guarding said door and they are simply waiting for my order. You can see three armed men are at the roof - again in view of the snipers - so taking them down will allow access to the roof simultaneously. At this height, one of your men can take out the third."

Allen raised his chin. "So we split our teams into two. Hit them from above and below before meeting in the middle."

"Correct. As you're three down and two of my men will be unavailable at the time from their vantage points, it leaves me with one more body at my disposal. The first floor is the most populated by five guards. One at the second floor. The top floor contains two. I suggest I take what remains of my team through the backdoor at the first floor and you grapple from the roof with yours."

"Sure as hell is the best plan I've heard so far, so let me know when you're ready."

In a way, he reminded him of Gavin.

He missed him.

Over four months and he still hadn't heard from him. Not a single call. It didn't surprise him as Gavin had said he wanted Nines out of his life and thus he respected his decision. Nines - in his naivety - didn't expect that to mean cutting contact completely. He was still waiting for that call. What hurt in addition, however, was that he hadn't even heard from Connor or Hank. He assumed they had a good reason and yet he couldn't pinpoint one. It was disheartening considering they were the ones he found himself closest to.

Something felt off, but Nines didn't have much time to reflect on it. He narrowed it down to his inexperience with human emotions and supposed that was simply how things were. How they were supposed to be.

Which each passing day, he became more and more unsure, his attitude on deviancy constantly shifting. There was so much he didn't understand and he at times felt held back by the limitations. If he was to live in fear for the rest of his life, at least he'd have a better understanding of the world around him, so he repeatedly found himself staring at that red wall holding him back. Mocking him of how big of a coward he was. He got more experience as time passed - met more and more deviants sharing their own - and yet it didn't feel like enough.

He came to realize that he was in the minority in said experience.

One out of a thousand androids' exposure to deviancy was entirely different from Nines' - them not even nearly as traumatized as he was - and he couldn't understand how that was possible. Why he was reacting so severely. He first assumed it was simply because he was created without the dormant deviancy code in the first place, and although that was certainly part of it, most deviants had chosen to deviate on their own. They had a choice. Nines, however, didn't. His deviancy was a decision made without his consent.

Markus certainly didn't mean any harm, but then again, he could never have known how an android only recently exposed to the virus would react. Nines was the embodiment of the experience. So he found himself staring at that red wall again, contemplating if it would be different if he made a choice of his own, only to remain a coward.

All he needed was a reason.

GAVIN

~ MAY 20TH, 2039 * PM 09:32 ~

Gavin rarely used cable TV - usually sticking to Netflix if he had the time as he basically lived the news - but it wasn't all that uncommon to have it on in the background when he did other menial tasks. Tina, as per usual, was hanging out just like every other Friday after their shifts ended or they had the day off. It was good to have something concrete to latch onto in his life filled with surprises. She was the only one that had stuck around ever since high school, being a needed support, and especially the past few weeks when he'd decided to get back in contact with his father.

He was fortunate to have her.

Lying down in his apartment couch, Gavin had a leg thrown up while the other foot was firmly planted on the floor. His arm holding a bowl of salad was thrown over the backrest as he pushed some tomato around for no real reason.

"He's getting fat."

Gavin halted the movement of his fork. "Ex-fucking-cuse me?"

"Just look at him!" Tina exclaimed, lifting Paws up in the air. The 'Little Black Devil' happily barked. "He looks like a mop."

Chortling at the comparison, he couldn't help but agree with her.

"Fuck, is he really getting that big?"

"I mean, I can't feel his ribs," she replied, handing him over after Gavin put his midnight snack away and pushed up to sit. Tina took the remote and started browsing the channels. "Shouldn't you feel the ribs?"

Effortlessly but gently, Gavin flipped him onto his back in his lap - the top of Paws' head facing his abdomen - to get a better look. He palmed the canine's sides and Tina's suspicions were confirmed. Paws, not knowing better that he was currently being judged, just wagged with his tongue sticking out. The optimism of the fluffy fiend was rather infectious.

"Oh, shit. You're right. Diet it is," he replied with a grin, lightly drumming Paws' stomach who whined as if he actually understood. Gavin cupped the canine's head. "It's for your own good, prick. You're gonna live for a long time, you hear me?"

He put Paws back on the floor and rose to his feet, setting course for the kitchen to prepare some coffee. Gavin knew he had really spoiled the dog the past few weeks as the canine had perfected the dreaded 'puppy eyes' - probably learned it from Connor - and used them at any given occasion when Gavin wasn't prepared for it. To no one's surprise, Connor immediately grew attached to the dog. Said 'puppy eyes' were too damn effective. Hank warned him once, but he didn't take it seriously, clearly underestimating the power.

"Hey, that's in Midtown. A re-air from yesterday," she said, leaning in. Gavin shot a gaze over at the TV. "Damn, it was worse than I thought."

Gavin arched a brow. "That the case you were assigned to before the SWAT took over?"

"Yeah, they were part of that group of anti-android peeps not too keen on the new 'androids have rights' law. It was bad."

"Jesus."

Walking up behind the couch, he let his forearms rest on the backrest as he clasped the mug between his hands. He hadn't seen it. Two helicopters and several SWAT cars surrounded the area. The scene reminded him of the first deviant case that Connor was assigned to with the Phillips family. According to the reporters, there were thirteen suspects, as well as ten hostages. The situation was really getting out of hand. He'd seen with his own eyes what these guys were capable of and that didn't exactly ease his concerns.

According to Joss Douglas, it was the Alpha team that had been assigned to this mission, said team consisting of twelve members including their two captains. He knew that Captain Allen led one half of said unit. Three men were down, revealing that the suspects weren't a force to be reckoned with. They wanted blood. Clearly, negotiation was no use with these kinds of people.

Daniel - an android - had been level-headed enough to stand down. These human supremacists with the mindset that androids weren't alive, however, wasn't. What a bunch of hypocrites.

He watched for a good ten minutes before he heard a ping from the coffee table. Gavin extended his hand, his attention still on the screen, Tina taking the hint and rolling her eyes in response. She grabbed his phone and was just about to hand it over before her gaze drifted across the contact name. When she didn't give it to him, however, dread emerged.

Too late did he realize who was texting him.

"No. No way," she said, more to herself than anyone else. Shock flashed across her face. "This is who you've been seeing?"

Gavin kept his hand outstretched. "Ti, just give me the fucking phone."

"What part of 'never get back to your ex' do you not understand?" she demanded, turning the screen his way as if he was being interrogated and presented the evidence. "Are you really that desperate?"

"Fucking hell, it's more complicated than that," he argued, snatching the device back. Gavin straightened his back and parted his arms as he gave her an innocent - albeit mocking - look. "You don't think I know it's a bad fucking idea? Here's the thing, Ti. You're the one that keeps pushing that I start seeing someone. Well, newsflash. Craig Adler is as good as I'm gonna get. Who the fuck wants to get involved with a 36-year-old detective that's reduced to a pulpy fucking mess just by being touched? I'm nowhere fucking near the ideal partner."

"What I want is for you to stop being such an insecure asshole and see someone you actually care about. I know Craig's a good guy, but this? This is fucked up. You know why?" she asked, before pausing the TV. "Because of him."

At the moment he looked back up, the reality check hit him right over the head, lines in his forehead retracting.

The camera focused on an all-too-familiar RK900 unit.

"That's the guy you're rooting for," she said, falling into a pause "...and it's fucked up that you're willing to lead Craig on knowing that."

Guilt emerged hearing it said like that.

Nevertheless, that didn't change anything.

"The fuck do you want me to do? Keep holding out for a guy that clearly doesn't want anything to do with me?" he snapped, scowling deeply as he gestured to the TV. "He hasn't answered any of my fucking calls!"

"...and how, exactly, does that surprise you? You literally told him you wanted him out of your life."

"For fuck's sake, I didn't mean cutting contact completely!"

"So he's just, what, supposed to know that? He's not a psychic, Gav. Nines probably thinks he's doing you a favor," she said, Gavin taking a deep breath. He closed his eyes and tilted his head down to compose himself. Her voice softened. "Hey. Connor and Hank can't reach him, either. Maybe it's a mix-up. You're the detective here, douchebag. Nothing about this seems off to you?"

"Look, I don't fucking know. This is Nines we're talking about."

"Then stop trying to replace him before you know for sure that he doesn't want anything to do with you."

Replace. That word, frankly, had a deep pit form in his abdomen. All he knew was that his life contained one disappointment after another.

"...and please stop saying that self-deprecating shit because it's really pissing me off. You're amazing, Gav. Anyone would be lucky to have you," she added, resulting in the release of his unconvinced scoff as he looked away. "Nines isn't stupid. If it's a mix-up, then hey, it won't take long for him to realize it. He'll contact you. Just... give it another week or two. That's all I ask."

He wasn't sure if he could.

It was nearing 11 PM when Tina headed home for the night. Gavin decided to take a shower so he didn't have to deal with it the morning after - just in the movement of finishing getting dressed - before he heard knocking on the door.

Paws barked happily.

She must've forgotten something.

Gavin sighed. "Just use the fucking key!"

He knew she wasn't all that keen on waiting - exposing herself to nosy neighbors asking questions she couldn't answer - so he heard said key enter the lock the moment he pulled up the bathroom door. Then again, she also liked messing with him, so he wouldn't be surprised had she persisted. He had to pass through the bedroom in order to get back.

Just as he entered the main area, Gavin barged into a halt and just stared. Paws seemed content with the attention he'd received and shortly bolted across the floor to go mental on his favorite toy.

"Although it's not exactly considered breaking-and-entering as you never asked me to return said key, it seemed impolite to let myself in."

Nines.

A/N: Sorry for the mild cliffhanger, but this is a long-ass scene in need of its own chapter.

Next update: January 17th around 02:00 PM (EST.)