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Chapter Text

7:46

Sitting in the back of a sparsely populated coffee shop, Rosa Wilson alternated between looking over the documents in her hands and periodically checking the time on her phone. There had been numerous talks between CyberLife and the Detroit PD heads about procuring the first RK-series prototype, but each conference was normally between the previous human resources director and Amanda, the android's CyberLife handler. This final meeting was just her and the prototype hashing out a few details before his (rather, its) employment. More of a formality than anything else, but a requirement nonetheless.

A server placed two steaming mugs of coffee onto the table with a smile. Rosa knew it wasn't a good night's sleep that contributed to his good mood, but a fatter wallet; after seeing a 'No Dogs, No Androids' sign written in angry, red sharpie above the entrance, she made sure to slide a few extra bucks his way during her order to ensure that her "friend" was overlooked. A tentative sip and another shuffle of her documents later, she checks the time again.

7:51

Sighing, she pushed a short, errant dreadlock from her face and reclined even deeper into the cushioned booth. Why had she shown up early, anyway? The meeting wasn't scheduled until 8:00, but she had been up since 5:00 that morning, quietly pacing the floors of her cluttered studio apartment. There was so much to do-- too much. Too much paperwork to complete, too many boxes to unpack, too many names to remember. It was like the entire world was trying at once to overwhelm her, and it was working. But if I can get through this meeting today, she thought, it should all get a little bit easier from now on.

Rosa stopped massaging her temples as the bell over the front door jingled. She checked her phone.

7:55

Glancing over her shoulder, she saw the android enter and scan the room (figuratively and literally, most likely) with a calculating yet boyish gaze. Rosa waited until she caught his eye to politely wave him over, smiling all the while.  "Looks like I'm not the only early bird anymore." She stood and shook his hand, his alabaster, artificial skin contrasting with her ebony tone.

"I'm Rosa Wilson, the new HR director. I've heard a lot about you from Amanda, but it's nice to finally meet you in the flesh."

A second too late, she realized how stupid it was to say you're meeting a robot in the flesh, and tried in vain to keep her cringing internal. Perhaps it was because of her surprisingly warm greeting, or perhaps his sensors could pick up on her embarrassment, but the android gracefully chose not to point out her folly. Instead, he returned a lopsided almost-smile of his own as he took his seat across from her.

"It's a pleasure to meet you as well, Director Wilson. I'm known as RK800 #313-248-317, but calling me Connor is much more time efficient."

Rosa let out a huff of sudden laughter. She's not sure if the android-- Connor, he said he was called -- meant to tell a joke, but his introduction was still enough to tickle her. Connor narrowed his eyes in slight but benign confusion at her reaction before regarding the two mugs on the table, his LED momentarily turning yellow.

It hadn't even been thirty seconds and she had slipped up again. "Oh, I ordered for two out of habit." Apologetically, she grabbed the mug closest to him and slid it back over to her side. "Sorry, I'll get this out of your way. Seems like I need the extra caffeine today, anyway."

He courteously nodded his thanks as his LED returned to its neon blue hue. With his hands crossed atop the table, Connor looked like the picture of order. His CyberLife garb was pressed and frighteningly white; his expression was schooled so that he showed only a whisper of emotion; his chestnut hair was perfectly coiffed to the side, save for a rogue curl resting on his forehead. He looked...nice. Cute. Nearly human, Rosa decided. She took a long sip of her coffee in an attempt to conceal that she had been staring, ignorant to the fact that he had been doing the same.

With his enhanced vision, Connor silently drank in the sight of the woman before him. She was at least a head shorter than him, with short hair (not quite braids, but he wasn't sure what to call them) and strong shoulders. Judging from the amount of oil on her frames, she habitually pushed her glasses up the bridge of her nose throughout the day, probably without noticing. She wore a muted floral dress with a black cardigan stretched tightly over her. The materials that made up each garment were fairly cheap, and cat hair clung to the cardigan, despite aggressive lint-rolling on her part.

The most apparent thing about her was the sleep deprivation. Her dark face was marred by the darker bags beneath her eyes, and though she seemed genuinely kind in general, Connor could tell from the frown lines beginning to develop between her brows that she had a lot on her mind most of the time. It'd be best, he decided, to avoid putting more on her plate in the future, if he could avoid it.

Finally, Rosa took a cleansing breath and spread out the documents in her hands so that Connor could see. "Alright, I won't keep you any longer than I need to. I just need to have a quick chat about your..." She scrunched up her face and motioned with her hands, searching for the right word. "Test run? Earlier this month?"

"The hostage situation, involving the Phillips family," Connor supplied, more a statement than a question.

"Yes, precisely. In the span of," she glanced down to check the field report, "exactly thirteen minutes, you managed to not only collect enough data to talk down the deviant PL600 and save Emma Phillips, but you saved one of our first responders in the process. CyberLife always touted how effective their androids are, but damn. That's impressive."

Though his face remained mostly impassive, Rosa could tell that Connor knew how impressive it was and was extremely proud of his achievement. And who could blame him? There were four casualties from the Detroit City Police Department that night, and it would have been five if Connor hadn't stepped in. In Rosa's eyes, he was more than deserving of the praise.

"I was only completing my mission, Director Wilson."

"And I thank you for that. Speaking of missions, all you need in order to begin working for the Detroit PD is my sign of approval," Rosa said evenly. With that, she took the first document and scrawled her signature at the bottom. "Aaaand... you now have it. Congratulations! Time to talk shop."

Rosa spent the next few minutes sipping her second coffee and explaining the extent of Connor's duties, training, and payment. "I understand that you don't require money for your services-- one of the many perks of androids, I guess. Still, if you need cash for a case, come to me and I should be able to put in a requested sum through CyberLife. I feel like I'm missing something..."

Rosa absentmindedly drummed her fingers on the mahogany tabletop as Connor patiently waited for her to remember. Something about the way she looked right then made Connor's chest tighten, but he couldn't find the cause. I'll run a diagnostic later.

"Oh! Right, I wanted to ask if you had a preference for who will be your partner. I'm sure you've read up on your soon-to-be fellow officers, but the most tenured choices are Officer Gavin Reed and Lieutenant Hank Anderson."

Connor tilted his head to the side, weighing his options. "I... My research dictates that Lieutenant Anderson would be the wiser mentor. He graduated at the top of his class in the police academy and became the youngest lieutenant in DPD history. Officer Reed, on the other hand..." He hesitated, then trailed off.

"He's a failure and an asshole, you can say it." Rosa smirked as Connor flinched at the phrasing, unapologetic.

"I was merely going to say that when I conducted a search on him, there were hardly any results to be found."

"I know. I've only been the HR director for a little over a month, and I strive to provide all officers with as conflict-free an environment as possible, but that man needs Jesus. Not that having Anderson as a partner is going to be a walk in the park, but I think you've made the right choice. All finished, then? Did you have any questions for me?"

It was as Rosa regarded him expectantly that Connor noticed the small band of light skin on her left ring finger. She used to wear a ring there, but she's recently removed it. Brushing this aside, Connor met her eyes and chanced a smile.

"When can I start?"

Chapter Text

Connor's first week in the force was... a spectacle, to say the least.

As expected, most officers didn't warm up to the idea of a "no good, job-stealing piece of plastic" joining their ranks, Hank included. Rosa's workspace was beside Captain Fowler's office, and even with the door closed, she could hear the vitriol in the lieutenant's voice as he kindly told Connor to "fuck off" after he was notified of the pair's required partnership. She could easily imagine the spit flying from his mouth as he seethed, his brows arched into a scowl and his face blushing with an indignant rage.

She raised the blinds that surrounded her glass-enclosed office, only to find that most of the other officers were eavesdropping too. With hushed tones, they gawked, snickered, and gossiped about the old man's poor fortune. Connor's face was obscured from her vantage point, but judging from the way he clasped his hands behind his back, head cocked to one side, Rosa could picture the impassive expression stretched across his artificial features. He has to weather this tirade in silence.

With a weary sigh that turned into a stretch, Rosa returned to her seat and resumed updating the schedule sheets. This is only his first day, she reasoned. It can only go up from here.

And it did go up, for a little while. For the next few days, Connor became Hank's three-dimensional shadow. Watching the duo interact was nothing short of a comedy routine-- Connor would ask a personal, albeit innocent question ("What do you like to do in your spare time, Lieutenant?" ), Hank would snap back with a four-letter word or a bigoted slur ("Piss off, tin can." ), and the cycle would repeat until Hank finally blew up and attempted to leave to drink his sorrows away. No matter what, Connor would follow in his wake like the fresh-faced chicklet to Hank's haggard hen. As if he could sense her amused gaze, Connor would turn to Rosa and shoot her a small, fleeting smile before stalking after his partner.

While Hank was stilling fussing and cussing as much as he had on day one, Rosa couldn't help but feel that the dynamic had shifted for the better. Instead of quietly enduring his partner's anger like he had initially, Connor would goad him, continuing to poke the bear, as if it were on purpose. As if he were having...fun? Did androids have the capacity to enjoy things, to have fun? Rosa would have to ask him some other time. Connor was steadily increasing the productivity of his division and had managed to drag Hank in for work on time for two days in a row-- a new record. 

Yeah, things were looking up until she saw Connor facedown on the floor.

The whole incident was a blur. It was a Friday morning, which means there was an unspoken pact in the DPD that everyone would take things easy. Captain Fowler bought glazed donuts for everyone. Hank showed up before noon for the fourth consecutive day and didn't seem to have a hangover. Even Rosa, anxious insomniac that she was, had been able to get some decent rest the night before in anticipation of a simple, stress-free workday.

As always, Detective Reed didn't get the memo. From the second he strode into the station, Gavin seemed hellbent on starting a fight, his hands fisted at his sides. In one month alone, Rosa had already filed dozens of complaints of 'unwelcome advances' against the officer from pretty much all of the penis-less employees in the precinct; although she wanted to do more than give frail warnings, she couldn't take any real action against him unless he did something to them physically.

Still, that didn't stop her from keeping an eye on the agitated detective as he stormed in, wildly sweeping the room with his eyes until he spotted his target and made a beeline towards them.

Gavin flashed his teeth in a smarmy grin as he quickened his approach, pointing an accusatory finger at a female officer in the back of the room. Rosa recognized her. Her name was Officer Kimmy (Kimberly? Kim? Something with a K.), and she was in the last batch of hires before the last Human Resources director left. A Korean woman, very short and loud and bubbly, and if the rumors were anything to go on, a great shot. Right then, however, she just looked like she wanted to disappear.

"Hey, baby, what happened last night?"

His voice was raised, trying and succeeding to cause a scene. Kimmy's face heated from the sudden attention from her peers, but with Gavin leaning on the wall in front of her, she was effectively cornered.

"What about last night?" She bit back, squaring her shoulders.

"You..." he crooned, leering closer to her face, "were supposed to swing by my place at 7:00. I blew up your phone all damn night, and you didn't even send a text to cancel on me. Didn't know you were the diva type."

"The hell I was! First of all, I never agreed to go on a date with you, ever. I've told you a million times that I have a boyfriend... how the fuck did you even get my number?"

"You were all over me when we were working that last case alone, so don't act like you're better than me now that all of your little friends are watching, you bitch."

"...Call me that again, Reed, I dare you."

Several good Samaritans felt the rising tension in the room and moved to break up the dispute before it came down to blows. Surprisingly, Hank was the first to pull Gavin back (maybe his sobriety sped him up). As usual, Connor was a few steps ahead of him, his back to Gavin as he talked Officer Kimmy down from doing something drastic. 

"Woah, woah, woah! Reed. That's enough. Even you can't be a jerkoff on a Friday."

Gavin struggled and fought against Hank's firm hold on his shoulder. "Oh, I don't need any shit from you, of all people! I'm not the one fucking... gallivanting around with a goddamn... android!"

As if to punctuate his point, Gavin wrested his shoulder free and kicked an unsuspecting Connor square in the back. Shocked, the android lost his balance and plummeted to the ground, narrowly missing the woman he had been trying to calm. Connor didn't say anything. A bit winded, but otherwise unphased, Connor tried to stand, but Reed managed to land one more kick in the stomach.

"What's the weather like down there, RoboCop? Still feel like you're fucking one of us now, dipshit?"

By now, Captain Fowler had opened the door to his office and was trying to figure out what all of the commotion was about. Rosa, having bore witness to the whole ordeal, borderline ran to the root of the altercation. A righteous fury burned in her eyes as she stepped between the detective and the robot. Her voice boomed over the racket.

"Detective Gavin Reed, due to the serious misconduct you've exhibited today, you are now being placed on unpaid leave."

Gavin, once again in Hank's grasp, looked utterly taken aback. "I'm... wait... Y-You can't-!"

"I can and I have, detective," Rosa responded hotly. She recited the procedure from the employee handbook from memory; it was likely that she was the only one who cared to read it. "Expect a notice of suspension in the mail. From that point, you'll be able to dispute your dismissal in your pending investigation, but given all of the witnesses, I doubt there'll be much for you to defend."

"You... little... cunt."

Gavin tried to surge forward again, but Hank's hold morphed into a strong headlock. With no danger of being grabbed, Rosa took a final step toward him, speaking low enough that only he could hear her.

"March your bony ass out of here before I mail you a pink slip instead."

The detective opened his mouth to snarl something back but decided against it. Sucking his teeth, Gavin broke out of Hank's grip and trailed out the door, middle fingers up all the while. After the source of the drama made his exit, most of the crowd dispersed, chatting amongst themselves about what the hell just happened. This was the exact opposite of a chill Friday.

Rosa turned to Hank, thanking him for intervening so soon. 

"Eh, it was no problem," he sighed. "I've wanted to choke the life outta that guy for a looong time. Glad I finally got my shot."

Rosa chuckled lightly. "Between you and me, I think I've had enough violence for today. This is going to be a lot of paperwork. Speaking of paperwork..."

She turned around, looking for a tall figure with a mop of chestnut hair. Connor stood behind her, his LED flickering from yellow back to blue as he readjusted his disheveled appearance. His eyes looked distant before they settled on hers, and he made a concerted effort to smile as he straightened his tie. Despite it, she could feel his hesitation. 

"Connor, can I see you in my office for a moment?"

"Of course, director."