Heels clicked onto the glossy tiles; heads turn toward the snap, glass barriers swiped to an open.
Plan was simple. Get in, get out. Under Markus's guidance, the mayor handed me an earpiece to stay on the line in case any issue surfaced. Prior to this afternoon, I persuaded him into letting me run a few errands at the DPD. Begrudgingly, he allowed it after Connor placed his input in the argument.
Correcting my uniform, I step inward, soaking into the collective prying gazes. To my left, the RK800 breathed deeply and endured the invisible weight of the room with me. Chris choked on his coffee, "(L/N)?" And officers that were utilising their monitors faced my direction.
Welcoming cheers trickled into the precinct and Hank swung over to us the first chance he got. "Hey everyone, hey Anderson," I greeted cheerfully. "My god, it's good to see you back, you have no idea" he beamed, wrapping me in a bear hug. "Ow, ow," I repeated, wincing at the bandages that were being stretched. Hank halts and whispers his apologies.
"Oh shoot, you found Connor too," he observed, shaking hands with him. "Had me worried." Politely, Connor casts a reserved smile. "Still functioning, lieutenant." Mentions of encouragement and kind phrases were showered onto me as officers steered to their desks.
Gavin pushed his efforts to appear unfazed from the high coffee table. "Oh, you're alive, great," he mumbles, not moving an inch. "You know you missed me," I teased, sending a wink. Partially agape, the detective sipped at his drink, equally being stunned by my unpredictability, and prolonging his sulking attitude. He didn't decline my joke either, surprisingly.
Gagging noises emptied out of the twitching earpiece, "Please focus on the task at hand," Markus begged. "Don't mock me, (L/N)," Gavin failed to hurl his usual sarcastic remarks and could only manage his basic thought process. Cute, he did miss me. What an uncommon sight to see. Connor fixes his tie, gently nudging me a reminder.
These officers would've been way more skeptical if I hadn't returned sooner or later. Markus had no chance in keeping me at Jericho for days on end, especially when I have a tough workload to sort through.
"Hank, I'm about to head in and pitch the investigation to Fowler again," I say, seeing the distant man rising from his seat in the transparent cubicle. "Will you be free when I'm done?"
The lieutenant verifies his messy desk of notes and rubs the back of his neck, "Yeah, I should be able to finish the last few sheets." Patting him on the back, I smiled, "Great." Connor strides up the stairs and holds the entrance open, after thanking him, I head straight for my supervisor.
"Fowler," I start out, occupying the last vacant seat.
"(L/N)," he acknowledged, tidying his area. "Are you here for a personal welcome?" I shook my head at him, "Good, because I wasn't going to give you one regardless. You've been away for too long." Geez, my absence hasn't ticked over a week and he's complaining already.
Guess it's his way of showing that he missed the entertaining fights Gavin and I started whenever we got bored or had too much spare time under our belts. Or to keep each other awake when caffeine stopped working, either one. Gave the office something to laugh at during lifeless shifts of cramping over hours of keyboard use and reorganising years of data.
"Here to ask when I can begin my investigation, sir," Fowler hardens his expression and searches for cabinets in his reach. "Forgot you've been obsessing over that," he grunted, shifting a hefty pile of records. He digs through contracts and templates and secures a sheet that's satisfactory.
He squeezes a pen in his grip, leaned back in his chair. "Now this is a serious investigation, are you certain that you want to take this on? I mean, you're relatively fresh in this department and there are a whole set of candidates that are compatible to pursue the case."
Fowler rests his elbows on the edge of his desk, leaning his chin on his tanned rough knuckles. "Why should I grant you this investigation?"
Connor brushes my jacket and dares to answer on my behalf.
"Detective (L/N) is a reliable officer, and I can confidently admit that she is the most compatible worker for this position. You may believe she is too heavily involved and that it would inspire a... bias perception of the matter," he cuts himself off to return his arm by his side, and to take a challenging glimpse at Fowler, "maybe you're right."
Fowler deepens his frown at the android, "Go on."
"Not once seen an officer demonstrate such integrity and commendable behaviour toward a machine. She made this case possible because she chose to save me from the river when anybody else would have ignored me." He slides his strikingly soft brown gaze, staring admiringly at me for an extensive amount of time.
"Not only did she save me, but... she has gone out of her way to act on my injustice," and he continues to glance directly at me, lowering his voice, "And I am extremely grateful for that." Fowler writes a few notes, wanting to attend to his monitor. "Get to the point."
"Her qualities are beyond standard eligibility for this case, and you won't regret opening this case under her management."
Did he prepare a script beforehand? Did he truly mean that or was that constructed to impress Fowler? "You speak highly of her, RK800," he mused, writing lines on a separate sheet. "Your argument is that she's able to handle this task, she saved you, and her actions speak loud enough that it should appeal to me, correct?"
Connor echoes, "Correct." A sigh comes from Fowler. "You're right in that way of thinking, RK800. And if I don't give you control of this case, you'd both be on my ass about it for countless months, so I'll humour you this." A different sheet is presented on the desk.
"Sign here and you're good to go," Disbelief swallows me, shifting my gaze at the empty signature box and him.
"What? That's it?" Fowler leans forward, squinting incredulously. "Do you have an issue with me feeling charitable today? Let's look at it this way, you won't get off my back unless you land the case, and I don't want to tolerate that today, tomorrow or schedule it for the weekend."
Fowler doesn't do 'charitable'. Not to Hank. Not to any officer. Before arriving at the precinct, I notified Markus that we'd have an extensive heated debate over the case. This was not the promised verbal war that I prepared to fight for.
Vigorously shaking my head, I absorbed the outlined information and scribbled my signature down before he could steal the miracle away. "No, not at all."
Fowler hardly lets stuff such as this to slide like it's a Friday buffet. A red ice operation got pitched to him during his sister's birthday years ago and it wouldn't have touched publication if it weren't for his swayed consent. There's more to this.
Getting up from my seat, I wander to the door. "Hold on," There it is, damn well knew it. "You're allowed to conduct it as soon as you've finished the newest release of papers," Gritting my teeth, an officer places it down on my desk, delivering a signal.
Pesky task. Not the anticipated torture I'd been due for. "Can I take it home instead?" Fowler scrunches his eyebrows and clicks a red pen, gesturing to the precinct, "You just got here."
"Staff may have permitted an early release; however, the medical personnel have instructed her to take it easy for another day before coming back to work," Connor broke in, lying as if it were the undeniable truth, "We'll be going now."
The RK800 draws the door open, "Also, I'm taking Hank as soon as he's finished over there," I escape the cubicle, having Connor at my side, "As you were, Jeffrey."
Scoffs are audible from the earpiece, "Smooth with the Hank line, could've been more formal there, also, 'as you were, Jeffrey'? (L/N) are you singlehandedly sabotaging your employment in front of your supervisor after Connor literally spent the interview buttering you up? Don't get cocky."
Does he want to be my supervisor instead? Oh, what I'd do to give him a piece of my mind. Did he force me to handle an earpiece so he could practice commentating on the line? Connor stifles himself from bursting of mirth, reading my infuriated reaction. Markus is the one who's cocky for believing his feedback is useful in the slightest.
Hank catches sight of us as we seized a fresh stack of files. Half-standing from his table, he summarises the last section before launching himself at the crystal gate next to us. "I'm done, I'm done," Hank puffed, ending his strained jog. "Nice work, lieutenant," Connor congratulated him, calling for the elevator. "Where are we headed to?"
"Your favourite place," I smirked, and a devilish grin graces Hank's features.
Chris and Gavin exchange looks as they concluded their coffee break.
- - -
Deafening music blasts the bar and alcoholic beverages are served to Hank and me. "Don't drown too many braincells Hank, I need to inform you a great deal," I giggled, resting in the booth. "What do you need to tell me? It sounds serious so let me have another sip so I can tolerate how boring it's going to be."
The bartender couldn't suppress a jolly appearance toward toward the limitless amount of customers. To be meeting here in the late afternoon, it's a miracle Jimmy's Bar is this populated. It's nice knowing that the bar has taken their 'No Androids allowed' sticker away.
Only drink they can take is blue blood, otherwise they'd risk their components. Sober for life, I'm afraid. Unless they pay an extra tip for their glass to be spiked a bit. I'm glad the bar has embraced this.
Staff would've prayed for a crowd like this to occur within a couple of months because of their luck. Appreciatively, he roamed by the customers in satisfaction, impatiently counting tips in his stuffed pockets.
"Ahhh, that hit the spot," he placed the empty shot on the table, and took a breath to rejuvenate. "Now tell me," Hank spoke, removing his light-hearted presence to pinpoint his focus. Connor glanced at me knowingly, "Tell him at your own pace," he advised through the earpiece.
Pink cotton clouds swirled in the skies and our chatter drained out the surrounding environment. Hank listened, not interrupting my speech to add his views to tarnish the flow of the explanation. When I hit vital points, I ensured that I spoke cautiously so that it couldn't be overheard. Customers blurred in the background, people were surging into the building, and crowds left in high spirits and tipsy company.
Struggling to maintain my wording, Markus urged me types of explanations and I copied them to Hank. Lieutenant didn't seem pissed or annoyed, and he acted sober during the whole discussion. Connor also included necessary details whenever I lacked it too. We kept it along the lines of Jericho, the mayor, and a general concept of our plans due to our restrictions.
Being outside and privately committing to a rendezvous is not the best route to break our news to Hank. Hiding in public is the safest bet we can take since it'd cause negative outcomes on behalf of CyberLife if they executed an ambush. Taking hostages at a bar downtown is a sure way of getting the DPD hot on their trail.
"Remember the AX400 that attacked us?" I pursed my lip, mixing the cool beverage in my palm. "I don't want that to happen to you Hank, and I think it's best we don't talk until this investigation gets sorted."
"CyberLife can intervene at any hour and..." Hank folded his arms, deadpan, "And you don't know if you can be seen at the DPD, risk being at home and be seen talking to many people, especially when they're hunting your defective android." Always quick to catch on. Remarkable, despite his age.
Hank waves a hand at Connor, "No offence." The RK800 blinks, "None taken."
"(Y/N), I know you're still getting used to this job, but you don't have to let this one case ruin your career, you can get someone else to-"
I smacked my fist on the table, causing a startled silence in the bar. "No, Hank, there's no way I'll sit by and wait for someone else to handle this case, not when I've devoted myself to it." An admiration is found in Hank's eyes, taken aback by reminiscence.
"So much for laying low," Markus snapped, adding to the searing fire that expanded in the depths of my stomach. "Dammit," I muttered, I'm so strung up. Chatter washes over the bar again, disregarding our scene. Hank fishes his wallet out and offers his payment to the bartender.
"Whenever you need me, I'll always be a phone call away."
Hank dryly chuckles, placing his coat back on. "There's no use trying to talk you out of it. You've got that same look on your face the day you joined and left the police academy, and I know that look too well."
"Connor?" Hank growled, glancing hard at him. "You better take good care of her. If she gets harmed, I'll disassemble you for parts and let Sumo use you as a chew toy." LED rotates red to yellow; he makes his promise. "Got it."
"See you around, kid," The old lieutenant signalled, drawing a cigarette once he turned away. Smoke lifted to the ceiling, and the poisonous smell burnt into the air. I can't drag Hank into this. I just can't. Hank has his own issues to tackle, and I can't let this case burden his life.
Despised spending these minutes here, trapped in a position that held undesirable options. Seeing that RK800 on my walk home from that one night, this could've been avoided.
My career would've resumed, none of this would limit my actions and we'd be drinking at this bar till midnight, laughing at Hank's intoxicated sense of humour. A mixture of regret and angst washed into me, yet whenever I took a quick look at Connor, those fears were quickly forgotten, and it reinforced my hope.
"Anything else we need to attend to before we depart for Jericho?" Connor queried on the line. Markus remains quiet. My lips part, and he chimes in, "To my knowledge, that's the last of it. There's a taxi out on the street, hop in, I have someone there to escort you."
Understandable that CyberLife is playing the waiting game to find the perfect opening to send a swift blow to our skulls. I get that. It's just that... an escort is too much, and too protective, even for Markus as a mayor.
Connor slips out of the booth, and we squeeze through the crowd in a single file. An EM400 awaits us by the isolated corner, dressed in an expensive tuxedo. Fancy. "An amusement park android?" Connor commented, vaguely disappointed, "I'll have you know that he's fully trained and able to take anybody in a brawl."
"(L/N) and Connor?" He shouts for confirmation; briskly swiping at his holographic pad. His LED flickers yellow and blue, registering our identities. "Right this way."
Hope I made the right choice, Hank.
- - - -