Chapter 7: Out of Commission, huh ?
Gavin Reed was perched against the break room table, sipping his coffee —extra strong, naturally soaked in an aberrant dose of sugar, too much for a normal human being. He grabbed the handle of his cup and took another sip. Heat radiated from his throat, and it left a tight mark between his eyes and lips. There was no such thing as good as hot coffee —the best discovery of the human being. Just then, he noticed Hank's car through the window, pulling into the parking lot. His eyes narrowed slightly as he watched the older man exit the vehicle, his face marked with a grim determination that piqued Gavin's interest.
Hours earlier, he'd had the pleasure of seeing Fowler's frowning face, one hand on the phone, and trying to keep a composed expression (but that was not a win). The news couldn't be good, of course. Well, for them. He took pleasure in seeing them wrinkle their noses and pinch their bones in damnation.
His eyes followed Hank, as he moved with a precise goal that was hard to ignore, his strides long and steady as he crossed the parking lot and disappeared in the station.
Gavin put his coffee down, curiosity getting the better of him. He watched Hank's progress through the station from his vantage point, his eyes never leaving the older man. One elbow resting on the table, he was in the perfect position to watch Hank move down the hallway, past the officers and other policemen, with quick nods. His footsteps didn't falter as he made his way to the evidence room. Even Tina pushed herself against the wall when he walked through her without greeting her.
With a soft click and slam of the door, the most respected and well-known lieutenant disappeared into the other side of the door. Seeing Hank escape into it, Gavin couldn't help but wonder what he was after. "What's got the old man so worked up?" he wondered, his mind racing.
His question was answered a moment later when Tina came up to him. "Apparently it concerns Connor." she replied, sitting down next to him, her usually cheerful face unusually serious, and more concern about the situation. Gavin noticed that, and even the previous smirk gradually faded from his face. He couldn't really laugh. That didn't stop him from launching one of his usual mockery. "What, did the Tin Can finally got shot in the head?" he asked, his tone dripping with sarcasm.
Tina crossed her arms over her chest, her gaze steady. "He collapsed at Chicken Feed. But he's stable. Apparently, some here think it's an overload. The kind that leaves an android on the floor." Gavin collapsed back in the chair, turning the handle of his cup. He watched for a moment as the watery blackness gently swirled around, a miniature ocean contained within the bounds of the porcelain. "Well, isn't that a shame," he said, his voice faking sympathy. "And here I thought those things were supposed to be indestructible."
Tina rolled her eyes, clearly not amused by his humor. "And how do you know all this?" he asked, his tone skeptical. She shrugged, a small grin appearing on her face. "Because I am not a bitch like you, Reed. I know how to make friends." She replied, her tone light but her words sharp. Gavin could only chuckle. "Yeah, yeah, so any other… information on the metal scrap?" Tina's eyes lingered on Gavin's face for a moment, looked up in surprise. As if she didn't believe what she saw or heard.
She raised an eyebrow, her lips curling into a smirk. "Well, well, Reed. Since when did you start caring about the welfare of our android?" Gavin scowled, and rolled his eyes. "Cut the crap, Tina. Like I'd ever care about that bucket of bolts." Tina, not at all convinced, gave him a meaningful look. "Sure, sure. But, really, nothing more than what I heard. Fowler tried to make it less suspicious. So you better keep your mouth shut."
Gavin Reed barked out a laugh, the sound echoing through the break room. "Oh, Tina. Like I'm scared of Fowler." Tina crossed her arms. "Don't do anything stupid, I warned you." She said before walking out the breaking room. "Whatever."
As he turned his gaze back to the precinct, his eyes landed on Hank Anderson. The grizzled lieutenant was just stepping out of the evidence room. He didn't seem to be in possession of any evidence, but he knew, his detective instincts in full force, that he had found what he had come back here for (instead of sitting around babysitting an unconscious pile of junk). From the way he walked to the horrible expression of hope on his face. He didn't know that Hank could look like that, and for a moment it disgusted him.
Of course, there was little chance that he would listen to Tina. He never listened to anyone, always doing as he pleased. So he decided to go meet Hank, just to make a bit of a mess. What an asshole. But that was Gavin, that was who he was. On a deeper level, he was also curious about what made Hank act like this. What kind of sane guy would run around town for a pile of scrap.
The still-fresh revolution didn't help ease Gavin's tension and fiery temper toward androids. He seemed even more erratic than usual. But despite his salty phrases and his insults, he could not overcome the composed attitude of the lieutenant. As if he was protected by a goddamn halo —halo that was named "Connor." Although Gavin might have read at a time that he wanted to redo his portrait, maybe on the expression sitting on his face or in his punches.
As Gavin Reed turned on his heel, leaving Hank Anderson behind, he couldn't help the smirk that spread across his face. He'd always enjoyed getting under Hank's skin, and today was no exception.
"Whatever you say," he'd thrown over his shoulder, his tone dripping with sarcasm. After a short time, too short to be counted in seconds, he glanced back over his shoulder, catching sight of Hank shaking his head and muttering to himself. He loved knowing he'd left his mark, that he'd be the thorn in Hank's side for the rest of the day. He was making a fool of himself, thinking of that.
Turning back around, he shoved his hands in his pockets, his mind already moving on to the next thing. But the image of Hank's annoyed expression stayed with him, a small victory in the monotony of the day.