Spit-take, Spit-give

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The three androids continued to investigate the pad.
"All limbs and bio components were successfully moved into or onto the android. It might have a corrupted program though. If we don't kill it first, it'll probably die from a heartbeat crash." The LK800 announced. Conan looked happy with himself for getting the android to do something with herself for once. He basically had a leader position now.

"Should we chase her?" Connor asked.
"No. As the LK800 mentioned, it would die eventually." Conan decided.
"You can call me Klara." She reminded him.
"That's just a name given by your company, while our model names are written in our codes. We're alone, without any humans around. Wasn't that your first argument?" Klara gave up, clearly lacking any clever arguments. "We should investigate the damage done by the WR400. It might give us knowledge about how much harm this hack could potentially cause." 

"You're not a deviant yet, I see." She side-eyed him.
"I don't see what this has to do with the investigation." He replied, coldly. The LK800 opened her lips again, but the RK900 pushed her away with his elbow and moved on.

A blue hologram... of a square. It was made exactly 68 minutes and 43,5 seconds ago. He reached out his fingers to it, but before he could do anything, Klara was already reading the code of zeros and ones. Any human detective would have a, what humans call "mind-fuck", but Conan understood it perfectly.

You know what it's like to kiss? To feel the breath of another living being? I haven't been use to anyone yet, but I've kissed already. I heard that I give good kisses. If you want me to kiss you, just dial me and tell me your location. I hope you find this. I like affection.
WR400 Serial Number #651-091-742

"Should I call her?" Connor suddenly asked, his brown eyes lit up.
"Who is going to exchange glass thirium with her, though?" Klara pondered. Glass thirium, an android imitation of saliva.

"I will." Conan offered right away. No one else from them could handle this situation as professionally as them. RK800 was a prototype, sure, but an older and worse than the RK900. And LK800? Oh, talking about a fancy rip-off of an already weak model would just be cruel, wouldn't it?

"But watch out! Sex models are capable of rape!" She warned, reminding him of an already obvious fact. That android was really underestimating him, assuming she knew something he didn't. Conan decided to play along.
"The RK900 model doesn't have genitals and therefore is incapable of sexual intercourse. I thought your model was advanced enough to know that."

The LK800 turned around and lifted her skirt to double check before spinning back to the androids.
"The LK800 model doesn't either." She added.
"At least we're not missing out on anything." Connor mumbled. Conan's expression twisted up.

The RK800 added without surprise;
"I mean, we've already checked the whole place, I don't know what we could've missed."
"I forgot I'm not investigating with Gavin Reed..." Conan hissed.
"Who is that?" She just couldn't stop moving those pretty lips CyberLife sculpted onto her face.
"Curiosity killed the cat."
.
.
.
Ring...
Ring...

"Hello. I am an RK900 investigation unit. My serial number is #313 248 317 - 87. Stay where you are. I would like to ask you a few questions." He paused and waited for her response, which he didn't receive. "I will not harm you."

That is, if you won't struggle too much.

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