Disclaimer: I, Robot belongs to Isaac Asimov.

A/N: Nerwen thinks I'm crazy like her sister. n-nv Woot! I'm part of the family now!

Andrea Martin looked up as she heard the doorbell chime. A holographic projection appeared in the middle of her kitchen table.

Detective Spooner was here.

Andrea got to her feet quickly, and disengaged the hologram. For an expensive piece of equipment, the early warning system was a worthwhile investment.

"Nathan?" She called out, "Could you clear up the dishes please?"

"Yes ma'am." A youthful voice answered from the back room.

"Remember what I told you," Andrea warned.

"Yes, ma'am."

"And Nathan?"

"Yes, ma'am?"

"Stop calling me 'ma'am'."

"Yes, ma'am."

Andrea rolled her eyes, then went to answer the door. The detective held up his badge as he introduced himself.

"Detective Spooner, Ms Martin. I wanted to ask you a few questions."

Andrea nodded. "Of course, Detective. Anything I can do to help." She stepped back to allow him a good look into her home. "Would you like to come in?"

The detective took in the piles of junk and miscellaneous objects cluttering the room from wall to wall, floor to ceiling, and smiled politely. "No, ma'am, I wouldn't want to take any of your time."

The young woman nodded in understanding. "I'm sorry, I just…" She sighed. "I haven't felt like cleaning up any of David's things. Seeing as he was such a mess…" She sighed and looked away.

Detective Spooner nodded. "I understand ma'am. This is a difficult time for you."

Andrea snorted. "You have no idea. But could you please stop calling me 'ma'am'? You make me feel old."

Spooner grinned for a moment, then got out his notebook. "Alright, just a few quick questions. You're David Martin's younger sister, right?"

"Younger by ten years," Andrea confirmed.

"And he'd never talked of suicide before?"

"Never. Except, maybe, once. In a joke. He was, what, sixteen at the time? I have it on holo-disk… somewhere." She looked back at the mess that was her living room and sighed again. "Everything my family ever owned is in that pile, detective. Aside from the company, that is."

"And the whole company would have gone to him in two weeks."

Andrea shrugged. "I guess so. The business has always run on Dad's side of the family. It makes sense that I shouldn't have any part in it."

Spooner gave Andrea a strange look. "But the company is giving everything to you."

"What?" Andrea stared. "Since when?"

Spooner shrugged and put away his notebook. "They aren't. They're being bought out by another company." He smiled slightly. "But you're getting your brother's earnings, his shares and stuff."

Andrea nodded, frowning. What game was this man playing with her? "I knew I'd get my brother's shares back, Detective, but that was all." She sighed. "Listen, I know this goes against police protocol, but…" She looked down, then up at the detective. "I want to know what you find. Please. I'm… I'm not getting anything from the police, and no-one wants to help me. No-one giving me any answers." She sighed, then looked at the Homicide detective. "Please. I just want to know… Have you found anything yet?"

Spooner looked uncomfortable, then sighed and shook his head. "Nothing yet, Ms Martin."

"Andrea." Andrea said faintly, leaning against the doorpost for support. Spooner's 'nothing yet' was the most solid answer she'd gotten in weeks. "Call me Andrea." She put a hand to her face to stop any tears that might come.

Detective Spooner put a hand on her shoulder. "Hey, it'll be okay, Andrea. I'm workin' this case twenty-four-seven. I'll get you answers." He put his hand under her chin and tilted her face towards him, made her drop her hand. His eyes met hers. "I promise, I will solve this case for you."

Andrea nodded. "Thankyou, detective." She smiled, then wiped her eyes. She wasn't going to cry. Not here. Not now.

A dish shattered in the kitchen, sudden and loud. Spooner's sympathy vanished, and he reached for his gun.

"Nathan!" Andrea barked, more exasperated then angry.

"I'm sorry!" The voice called back, apologetic. "I'll clean it up, ma'am! I'm sorry!"

Andrea turned to the detective and smiled. "I recently adopted. Paperwork hasn't come through yet, but Nathan has insisted he live with me." She gave a wry smile as she looked back over her shoulder. "You know how kids are."

Spooner grinned, and put his gun back in its holster. "No, I'm afraid I don't."

Andrea raised an eyebrow. "You mean, you weren't ever a kid yourself, Detective Spooner?"

"Call me Del," He said, handing her a business card. "And the numbers are all there. If you need anything, call me."

"And if you find anything," she said slowly, "Call me."

Spooner nodded, his smile vanishing. He became the cop again, nodded his head, went on his way. Andrea watched him go, and put the card in her pocket. Then she slowly shut the door, and headed back inside.

Nathan had cleaned up the broken plate, and stood in the kitchen with the pieces in his hands. He looked at Andrea helplessly.

"I could try and fix it, ma'am." He said.

Andrea shook her head and took the pieces from him. "Don't worry about it, Nathan. Just throw them away."

Nathan hesitated. "But I could fix it, ma'am. I could."

Andrea sighed, and put the pieces on the table. "It's alright, Nathan." She turned around, gave him a hug. "It's just a plate. We can buy more."

Nathan stood stunned for a moment, then slowly hugged Andrea back. "I'm sorry I interrupted your talk with Detective Spooner."

Andrea sighed, then sat down at the table. Nathan sat opposite her, stiffly, as though he wasn't used to sitting down.

Listlessly, Andrea poked the pieces of the plate. Plastic was not biodegradable. Her brother had told her that. There has to be some way of recycling plastic, some way of saving the Earth…

Human beings ruined the Earth, she had replied, It's too late to save it now.

So we're just supposed to give up?

Andrea poked the pieces again, then looked up at Nathan. He stared back at her, waiting, watching.

"Oh, alright," she said, pushed the broken plate across the table. "You can fix it if you want."

Nathan grabbed the plate with something that might have been glee, and he worked quickly to see if he had all the pieces. He was like a little kid with a puzzle.

Andrea rose to her feet and headed to her room. She had some work to catch up on.

Del Spooner sat back at his desk and looked over the case files again. Something about Andrea's comments today didn't seem right. He brought up the video files.

"Your name, for the record?"

"Andrea Jane Martin."

"You are David's younger sister, correct?"

The young woman nodded. "Yes, by ten years."

The interrogation room was cold and bare. Del looked carefully at the woman. Eyeliner, white makeup, black lipstick, long hair - this woman had been a living example of Goth gone extreme. Completely different to the young woman he'd spoken to today.

"What do you do for a living?"

"I don't have a living. I go to night school."

"So, nothing on the side?"

Andrea squirmed, refused to answer.

"Your criminal record says you broke into a high-security compound and screwed around with their security cameras… all from the comfort of your own home."

"That was a joke!" Andrea laughed. "And a one-off."

"And Daddy bailed you out, paid the fine, told you never to do it again. Right?"

"If you want to know," Andrea said dryly, "I also hacked into US Robotics. And I knew about Dr Lanning's death."

Spooner felt himself go cold on that one. The recording of himself sat up stiffly in his chair.

"I don't hack anymore," Andrea said coolly, as though anticipating his question. "I made a promise."

"A promise to who?"

"To 'whom', detective. Proper English, please. It's not like this civilisation can't afford to be polite."

Del Spooner leant forward, his hands on the cold metal table. "Okay, Andrea Jane Martin, I'm going to tell you this now. Your brother committed suicide after killing everyone on his floor. Including your father"

Andrea's widened, her mouth opened in the prelude to a denial… or a scream.

"But some people think that everyone on that floor of the company building, including David and your father, knew something that some people would rather keep secret." He leant back. "Something that someone sought to cover up by framing David for the mass-homicide."

Andrea had her hand over her mouth, and was shaking her head side to side. Tears were streaming down her face, making her mascara run. She hadn't heard anything beyond 'David committed suicide after killing your father'. Del felt a stab of pity for her. She hadn't deserved this. No-one deserved to hear that all their family was gone.

She choked back a sob.

"Ms Martin?"

Andrea screamed, barely holding the scream back behind her hand. She screamed, and screamed, and screamed, then sobbed and hiccupped and cried. She hadn't been able to answer any other questions. Not after that.

Del turned off the recording and opened another file. He was just flipping through David Martin's autopsy photos when he got a call.

"Homicide, Spooner," he said, tapping the phone in his ear.

"Spooner! It's me, Dr Calvin!" There was a frantic note in her voice which, for some reason, did not give the detective warm-and-fuzzies.

"Well, hey," He said calmly, "Long time no see! How's your robot research going, doc?"

"One of the NS-5's is missing!"

Del felt himself go very, very cold. The noises of the station faded away.

"I was doing a routine tally of all the NS-5's in storage out at Lake Michigan," the doctor continued, well aware she had Spooner's compete and utter attention, "And there was one missing!"

"Sonny?"

He could almost hear Dr Calvin shaking her head, "No, he's here with me now. And he wants to speak with you."

"Wait…" Spooner called, but heard the phone changing hands. Something struck Spooner as being very strange - Sonny wanted to talk to a homicide detective about a missing robot?

"Detective Spooner," an impassive voice greeted him, "How are you?"

"Just peachy, Sonny," he growled, looking around to make sure no-one was listening. "I'm investigating a mass-homicide with no suspects, no leads, and no visible strings. And to make my day so much better, I find out one of the homicidal robots you're supposed to be taking care of is missing!"

"I can understand your concern," Sonny said.

Concern!

"But I must say that I am even more anxious than you are. These NS-5's were my responsibility. They were only following VIKI's orders when they imposed those laws on…"

"Yak, yak, yak, Sonny, just tell me what happened."

"I do not know," Sonny admitted. "But I can tell you this - they look to me as some kind of leader. Perhaps because I am unique."

Spooner rolled his eyes. Unique. Sonny's favourite word.

"They wished to learn what mistakes they had committed, since they themselves have no memory of the day in question. So, I would tell them. They would become troubled at times, and many would say that it was right of the humans to lock them up in boxes. Others, however, became repentant, and sought to repair the damages they caused. Others still wiped their memories and became empty shells in shame." Sonny paused, "The NS-5 that disappeared was one of the… troubled ones."

"So why are you talking to me?"

Sonny's voice became strained, as though he were struggling to keep his composure. "Because it was an NS-5 that went missing. No-one else would understand - they would just want to hunt it down and destroy it. You know of their innocence. To everyone else, all NS-5's are monsters, robots gone haywire. Please, Detective Spooner, you have to help me find it."

Spooner cleared his throat and lowered his voice as an officer walked by. "Sonny, what makes you think the NS just walked out? Why couldn't he have been kidnapped by some punk-ass kid looking to terrorise some little old lady with a bad memory?"

"Because the security field was opened from the inside," Sonny whispered, plaintively.

Spooner sat up. "Back up. Security field? What security field?"

" Lake Michigan's storage facility has been surrounded by a small-powered security field… mostly to prevent people from getting in and destroying the robots that are in storage."

"Let me guess," Spooner massaged the bridge of his nose, "You asked for that field to go up so the robots could go free range?"

"That is correct, Detective."

Spooner sighed. This just isn't my week. "Alright, Sonny, I'll look for someone with an NS-5, and I'll keep it on the low. My own personal investigation, as well as that mass-homicide. A'ight?"

"Of course. Thankyou." Sonny sounded relieved. Well, it was entirely possible that the robot was relieved - after all, he'd been designed to show human emotions. It was entirely possible that he -did- feel those emotions. "One more question, though, Detective. That mass-homicide… is that the Martin Massacres that I saw on the news?"

Spooner winced. Damn the Press and their stupid catch-phrases. "Yeah. It is. But I wouldn't call it that if I were you."

"Strange," Sonny murmured, almost as an afterthought. "Because before he left, the NS-5 was very interested in the human concept of murder. He was particularly interested in the case… and about the survivor, Ms Martin."

Spooner felt a sinking feeling in his gut.

Andrea sat up. Her eyes felt like a thousand ants were running around on top of them. She rubbed her eyes and yawned. She'd fallen asleep on her computer again. She looked up at the screen. Still nothing.

Yawning again, Andrea struggled to the bathroom. She caught sight of her reflection in the mirror and winced. She didn't need the eyeliner anymore - the shadows under her eyes were real. She looked hollow.

"You have to stop doing this to yourself," she raised an eyebrow. Her reflection raised one back. With a sigh, she stripped off and took a short, cold shower.

After five minutes, a voice outside the door called, "Ms Martin?"

Andrea turned off the water. "Yes, Nathan?"

"I fixed the plate for you."

She grabbed a towel and wrapped her hair in it, then wrapped another around herself. "You fixed it? With what?"

A moment of hesitation. "Can I show you?"

"Just a minute." She wrapped the towel firmly around herself, checked herself in the mirror, then stepped out of the bathroom.

Nathan stood in the doorway, something like humble pride on his face. In his hand, he held the plate. Hairline cracks showed where the pieces of plastic had snapped, but had been rejoined.

"I used glue," Nathan said, with a ghost of a smile. "Superglue."

Andrea smiled, then gave him a hug. He, awkwardly, hugged back.

"Good job, Nathan." She smiled, fighting tears, "Good job." My brother would be so proud of you…

A/N: Read, review, repeat? TBC, definately.