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There were always doughnuts present in the break room-- scratch that. There were always doughnuts EVERYWHERE down at the precinct. Boxes upon boxes of “O’mansley Donuts” from a few blocks down 3rd Avenue. Rather than put expenses into each Police Official individually buying doughnuts, Captain Fowler came to the conclusion that buying in bulks was cheaper for their budget along with the more convenient walking distance of 5 meters (16,4 ft.) rather than several blocks.
Both Fowler and The Officials seemed to be satisfied with the decision very much, especially Lieutenant Anderson who really enjoyed a good 452 calorie treat during work. Or several, in fact. There were always empty, teal boxes littering Anderson's desk which RK800 - Connor, would discard of as they stacked their way to the cealing. The treat would often be accompanied with the Lieutenant’s favorite mug, filled to the brim with newly brewed coffee from the office machine.
Connor had explained the mug was being favoured due to its simplicity. Even though the exterior was a standard, white handle mug shape, the bottom of it hid a blue star when covered. It made the Lieutenant smile every time he finished his coffee which is why Connor took extra care of it upon cleaning.
It was the same thing for Detective Collins and his Android, PC200 - Jenny. Jenny has assisted her Detective for several years, even getting the honor of picking out a new mug for him. The officers had slipped into a shop one day while heading back to HQ from an investigation. The Detective had insisted she picked one out for him to have down at the station, the once in stock being too boring for his taste after several years in service. She explains that the action might have been what kick-started her deviancy, before the revolution, but it was too small for her to ever notice. To let a machine make a decision in his life, the action was held dear in her Memory drive as she proudly gestures to the mug on Detective Collins desk. Light blue with pink, porcelain-like floral pattern, the once you could find on any grandmothers sofa back in 2010. The cursive writing on the handle says “Today is a good day”. The mug empty, yet wet from its morning use and Jenny gleefully grabs it for a refill. She retrieves the empty box of Donuts as well when she bids RK900 farewell.
Crumbs, used napkins traced with glaze, teal paper boxes, and smiles around big bites of dough were something RK900 - Nine had never seen on his side of the office. Never have Nine seen his Detective enjoy a sugary snack or even looked in its general direction. Never was it spoken of either and was even refused once an officer had offered it. The lack of doughnuts in The Android’s life was not a distraction despite the slight discomfort it has caused him. A suspicious pit in his stomach and irritation in his frontal lobe as The AI spectated other Officers hum happily around their treat would appear now and then.
Nine identified the feeling as jealousy.
Not jealous of his inability for consumption...but… Something else...
He did receive his fair share of “thank you”-s and compliments. The signs of appreciation Detective Reed gave him upon coffee retrieval was more than enough - it should be.
Coffee [kaw-fee, kof-ee]
A beverage consisting of a decoction or infusion of the roasted ground or crushed seeds, usually roasted beans. It’s described to be rich in flavour, bitter and normally with a room-like aftertaste, similar to wine. Thanks to the office’s perfectly functional machine, every last drop of coffee was perfect each time.
Never was there an element of surprise when The Detective inhaled the first ounces each morning. His simulation like a grumpy scruff once the bitterness had stroked the back of his tongue, it was the opposite from the rest of the office. The excitement and eagerness on everyone's faces when a plate of randomly selected donuts were brought, the surprise and joy when the first bite is taken - discovering whatever the flavor of the filling or glaze is. Complains about weight gain and failed attempts to cut down on sugar mere moments or days later - only to have 5 more rings unconsciously shoved down their faces while reviewing files.
It all sounded… pleasant. Even though Nine’s previous model encounters the experience on a daily basis - he himself had yet to witness it from his own partner.
“The fuck you staring at.” Reed hissed across their desks. Android workers had received their own personal workspace after the revolution, depending on the work they did. If not a desk, at least a locker. Nine and Connor had no locker but did have a desk which was covered with their personal belongings and documents. The Machine had settled in well on his newfound space, even starting to collect personal artifacts… various business cards on his cork board, which was nice. He liked the colours and the texts, in not too long his board would be covered in cards.
“I am thinking.” Nine said.
“About?”
“Only what I will use my next paycheck on.” The Detective had complained about Nine’s pay, what does an Android even need money for if they do not require anything in particular - something The Android himself had to agree on. His personal bank account had slowly piled up with a sexy looking number with each passing payday and lack of expenses. Despite the fact that Androids earned less than humans, they got in exchange: free maintenance and system checks.
“I was considering renting an apartment or a storage area where I can keep my belongings.” Nine continued and received a wrinkled nose in return.
“What belongings? You don’t got shit. You can literary fit all your stuff in a single drawer if you tried. You’re already sleeping in your chair at night--”
“--I don’t sleep, Detective--”
“--Whatever, windows rest mode, same fuck, different person. What do you need space for?”
Nine would never admit but having a space which he would call his own would be very pleasant, somewhere rules are few and he could experiment and explore as he felt necessary. A place he could expand on his newfound hobbies, collect and store spare parts. No longer being CYBERLIFE property means no longer having the privilege of a free reset button every time he died or got damaged. Nine has, however, invested in a VITUS Wifi Memory Bank which is neatly hidden in his bottom drawer, far back in the left corner. It’s something he regularly updates and reports back to. If something were to happen to him, his last memory would be uploaded to VITUS and anyone could hand the Bank to the closest CYBERLIFE shop and The Investigator would be back in no time, though it would take a toll on his budget. Saving money is always good.
Having a place for himself would mean he could experience more domestic activities and maybe bring a lover over for some late night activities, he could finally bring Gavin over for a beer or Game night. He could own some cats. Gavin having three of them whiles Nine having zero makes the uncomfortable pressure in his stomach return.
“No reason in particular. What else do you suggest I spend my ever-growing spendings on?”
“Me, of course. Buy me shit and I will be forever in your debt, Kappa”
“Hm…” Nine glances across the room and checked on his internal clock. It was the usual, 2-hours-after-lunch-and-now-i-crave-snacks time for the majority of the office. He spotted The Negotiator hand pastel frosted doughnuts over to Hank, in which happily chowed down with a celebratory wiggle dance. His beard was already sprinkled with the sugar coating.
Gavin has never done that.
“What? You don’t feel like being my sugar daddy?” Reed teased with a devilish grin and a proud pat on his own back.
“That’s not it, I would like to offer you a heavily loaded, high-calorie treat to… boost your energy level, yet am I wrong in confirming your dislike of sweets?”
“Ey, you got me there. If anything that crap will slow my focus and get me fat. I don’t mind getting fat, but even I need to put in work to look this good. We can’t all be designer babies.”
“But would you turn your nose up at a doughnut?”
“Listen, I don’t mind a good ‘nut, I am American after all--, but come on. You can never have just one and-- I don’t know--, 5 hundred calories per ring? I’ll rather run through the office naked. “
“Please answer my question properly, Detective.“
The Detective glared at his partner and took a chug from the remaining coffee in his cup, cold from lack of attention.
“No, I would not turn my nose if offered, although, I would aggressively decline with all my being if offered. Now get me another coffee.”
----
That week was the last Nine had ever spoken of the doughnuts. “A spontaneous idea from his newfound deviancy” Gavin had thought. A temporary obsession, it happens and The Detective was glad it was over.
That is until he had returned to base from a meeting a state over, just in time for lunch. Rather than changing out of his service uniform and pick his partner up to go, Reed sees a package on his desk. Gavin throws his bag down on the desk and stares at the alien object invading his cubical.
“What the fuck is that?” The Detective said, not even a flinch in return from said partner. “What did you do.”
“I got you a bagel.”
“Why?”
“Your lack of desire for sweets had me dumbfounded and rather than force you to eat unwanted food or put the unnecessary energy into researching doughnuts with low sugar content, a bagel seemed closer to my intended goal?”
Nine seemed more tense than usual, no one knew but The Detective could tell. The LED would rarely change but his static grey eyes would flicker nervously. They kept the stare between them and for the first time, The Android broke the silence. He glanced down at the package on the desk.
“My apologies, I thought you might have enjoyed a… surprised treat during break. I must have miscalculated somewhere…”
Gavin clicked his tongue audibly and reached out to open the package. Fine, light brown, paper box. The paper almost seemed homemade. It held onto a Rough bagel, a perfectly round hole in the dead centre of the bread and he could see cheese, lettuce, paprika and some sort of meat. Fuck it.
The Detective shoved the bread into his mouth and took a large bite, struggling for a moment to chew the mouth load.
“It’s gewd, whew dad yuo gegt it?” (It's good, where did you get it?”
“Saint Marger’s Bakery. They supposedly have the best Everything-Bagels in Detroit with 4.7 stars as their online rating. It’s a bit far to walk but taking the Metro is merely 10 minutes with an additional 5 walking from the station.”
“Hm!” What a lunatic. The tin can probably spend some time researching and comparing stats online for the best bagels and even went to the damn place to get some. He could have had it delivered, not like it would be difficult. Stupid ass plastic. Good thing the Bagel was delicious or Gavin would be giving him a beating for not doing something more productive.
Pff, idiot…
The Detective finished his mouthful and smiled. Nine followed the hand which was reaching over to proudly pat him on the shoulder before returning the gaze up at The Detective.
“Thanks, K9.”
The machine was quiet for a moment, his blue LED spinning taking its sweet time doing whatever it needed to do before flickering a bright Honey light.
“You’re welcome.”