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Each desk in the DPD was decorated in accordance to the owner of that space. Lieutenant Anderson's desk didn't have much in the past. After his son Cole died, Anderson had become quite the recluse and drew away from his friendships like a snail into its shell. The only thing you'd find on his desk was a pair of headphones, and if you were lucky, you'd still be able to hear the heavy metal radiating from the speakers. The little poster board would have anti-android slogans and paper clippings, with a little baseball cap hanging from the corner.
At least it would. If they were still in the past.
Now, the poster's anti-android decoration had been replaced with pictures. Pictures of the plastic prick himself, a very large dog, the Lieutenant, and occasionally his late son. Anderson, the only other person in the precinct that could relate to Gavin's own hatred for androids, had gone soft for one of the very machines he swore he despised! And it wasn't just any android, no. It was the one who was after all of their jobs. The one who would replace Gavin without a second thought, despite Fowler's empty promises.
It was the one who had been pushed into the DPD by CyberLife to fix their runaway android problem, and had somehow managed to deviate in the process. How ironic, becoming the thing you were built to hunt. Not like the android wanted to ever listen in the first place. Gavin swore there was always some bug in its programming. The memory of the android downright refusing Gavin's request for a coffee, before being punched in the gut for its disobedience, played in his mind.
"My name is Connor."
How ridiculous. Gavin didn't name his cell phone, even when it was faulty and bugging out! Why would the glitchy android get a name? For all Gavin cared, it was just a random RK800 that was produced on an assembly line in some factory. Gavin couldn't remember if he'd ever seen another RK800 before. Didn't the android say he was a prototype, and one of a kind..?
Speaking of the robot, Gavin believed that a man's desk was a reflection of their life. A physical representation of what they deemed worthy to keep by them every day. Gavin grew bitter at the sight of Lieutenant Anderson's desk gradually shift away from the former android hate. However, this also enforced Gavin's own belief that the tin can was as soulless as it's ever been.
The android's desk remained empty, the same as it was when it had arrived at the precinct.
The desk was completely clear, not even a pen in sight. There were no pen holders, no personal mouse pads, no tin of paper clips, and no color anywhere. There were no crumbs, because the android didn't need to eat. After all, it was a lifeless shell of metal and plastic.
Gavin wouldn't say his desk was particularly decorated, but that was just because he kept everything in his drawers. He didn't need the whole world to see his business. That was the difference between him and the asshole. Gavin had belongings. The android had nothing. Up until a few months ago, it itself had been a belonging.
A common decoration for the desks, Gavin noticed, were plants. Yes, it was basic. Yes, it was stereotypical. No, nobody cared. They'd decided to stop caring about stereotypes when they organized a donut party to happen every Friday, providers of said donuts rotating each week.
In the technologically advanced world they lived in, the plants contrasted with their desks and terminals greatly, but it wasn't that terrible of a look. It actually served to provide the bland desks with color and life. It also gave the officers some hope, when they were hours deep in paperwork and wanted nothing more than to give up on the spot.
Gavin understood. He'd been there a couple times. Paperwork was never fun. It was the one time he was jealous Anderson had an android and he didn't. He bet Anderson never had any paperwork…
Anyways, when an officer wanted to leave his mark on his desk and express himself, a plant was typically the first option for many. Especially succulents and cacti. They didn't need much water, and hardly required maintenance.
Tina had actually gifted Gavin an orchid once, but nobody knew where it went. He had actually been doing a decent job at preventing its demise. One day, Gavin left to go home, and when he came back the next day, the orchid was nowhere to be seen. The cameras caught nothing. Who would even organize a planned robbery to steal a potted plant? Gavin admitted to feeling a little sad, having grown attached to the flower due to the fact he had been keeping it alive and Tina had been the one to give it to him. She was his best friend. However, he worked in the DPD, so he's gotten pretty used to being constantly disappointed by his foolish coworkers, so the feeling didn't last. He'd make it, like he always did.
Chris had once brought fucking basil. Basil. The herb that you put in soups and pesto to make it taste good. And when the basil inevitably died, he replaced it with a golden moneywort. The plant that loves sunlight and grows to cover the ground. Fowler forced Chris to get rid of it when the plant began to cover his desk like a blanket, taking over like a slime mold. Whoever told the poor guy that basil and golden moneywort were good desk plants needed to be banned from all Home Depots for the rest of time. Descendants included. Gavin didn't even want to see them in Lowes.
It was Monday, and Gavin was already ready to go home. He was completely aware there was nothing for him to do in his apartment, considering he had one single friend, but nobody wanted to fill out homicide paperwork at 8 a.m. on a Monday.
When he got there, most of the precinct was there already. The only two people of importance who were visually missing were Anderson and Collins. Anderson's was predicted, considering it was lucky if he even showed up at all. Gavin did notice that his plastic pet had managed to get the old man off his ass and go to work much more often than he did before, but it couldn't ensure punctuality when it came to Anderson. Not yet.
Collins however…
"Where's Collins?" Gavin asked, approaching Tina, who had a cup of cheap, shitty coffee in her hands.
"Heard Ben came down with a real nasty strain of the flu last night," Tina explained, taking a long sip of her still steaming coffee. Then she unhelpfully added, "Probably won't be in today."
"Well no shit."
"Hey, you never know."
Chris ran up to them, panting from exertion. Gavin raised an eyebrow. It was 8 in the morning. Why the hell was Chris running around?
"H-hey Tina," Chris said, digging into his pocket to pull out a worn 50 dollar bill.
Tina smirked knowingly, but feigned innocence.
"Wow, really? For me? How kind of you, Officer Miller!"
"Alright, what bet did Chris lose?" Gavin teased. Chris must have done something real stupid to owe Tina $50. Tina didn't often take bets. The first indicator that tells you not to bet against Tina is if she bothers betting at all. If she partakes, you'd best be on her side.
"He challenged me in Battlefront, but I beat his ass." Tina tossed the empty coffee cup into the trash and crossed her arms proudly. Gavin's eyes widened.
"Why the hell'd you challenge her to a PVP in a Star Wars game?" Gavin's jaw dropped in astonishment. Tina was a goddess at all of the Star Wars games for an unknown reason. Legend was she didn't even like the games that much, she was just that good. Anyone who'd known her for more than a week would know that! Some say she was blessed by George Lucas himself.
"I don't know, alright?! It was foolish of me! I was on a streak and got cocky! I'll never do it again, I swear!" Chris covered his face with his hands in shame as Tina laughed.
"If you know what's good for you, you won't!" Gavin hissed with no real weight, amused.
A few hours later, Anderson came stumbling in, android following right behind him like a lost puppy. It was a normal sight by this point, except one thing was different.
In the android's hands was a pot, with a single plant.
At first, Gavin thought that the little machine was carrying Anderson's cargo around like an obedient little servant, but when Anderson turned to his desk and Connor kept walking, Gavin had second thoughts.
When the tin can reached its desk, it placed the pot down near the corner, but not close enough to risk it falling without someone intentionally knocking it down. Whatever. This was normal. Maybe Anderson had told it that people were going to catch onto his "emotions" being fake if he didn't do something to his desk.
Gavin didn't recognize the plant, but that didn't mean much. Gavin was far from a professional gardener, and only recognized plants that were very common or he had come into contact with before. Like the moneywort, which he had planted for a science project in high school. Something about sustainable ecosystems, and all that bullshit.
Two days later, the android came in with another plant, but this one was taller. The pot was orange instead of dark blue, and was placed behind the original one.
The next day, another plant came.
Three days later, that next Monday, there were two more plants.
By the Monday of the next week, the android's desk had five plants of various shapes, origins, and pots. A stark contrast to what the desk had been the week before.
Everybody in the precinct was baffled. When had the android decided to pick up botany? Why had their bullpen become a greenhouse? The only one who didn't react to Connor's strange choice in decoration was Anderson, because he always was with the plastic freak anyways, why wouldn't he know?
By Wednesday, Gavin decided he needed to know. So when Anderson trudged over to the coffee machine, Gavin followed. As usual, Anderson was late, so everybody had already wrapped up their daily retrieval of morning coffee. Refills hadn't started yet. Fortunately, this meant they were alone. Unfortunately, Gavin didn't have a good excuse and stood out immediately.
"What do you need, Reed?" Anderson grumbled, still reacquainting himself with actually having to work again.
"What's your plastic pet doing with all those plants? He decide detective work was too hard for him, or something? Thought he might get into gardening?" Gavin sneered, and Anderson's eyes darkened even more.
"I'd really appreciate it if you would stop calling Connor that, Detective Reed," Anderson straightened his posture, his voice deepening. Huh, some things never change. "Whether you like it or not, Connor is your coworker now, and he isn't going anywhere, so you'll need to stop with the name calling eventually."
"Yeah yeah, just answer the question?"
"What's it to you?"
"Everyone wants to know why the plastic's got the entire fucking plant nursery on his desk, it ain't just me you bastard!"
"If you want to know, ask him yourself. Maybe if you ask nicely, he won't immediately leave."
"Oh, fuck off."
Giving up, Gavin quickly left the break room and headed back out to the bullpen. Fine. If Anderson wanted him to talk to his little plastic pet, he'd do just that! He couldn't blame him for anything that came of this anyways! It was his idea, after all. If the little shit got his feelings hurt? Well, oh well!
Spotting the android sitting in his chair with impossibly perfect posture, Gavin made his way over. Connor didn't take long to notice him, and Gavin noticed the slight emergence of a frown on the freak's fake face.
Why'd CyberLife have to make these androids so damn lifelike? It got harder every day for Gavin to fault those poor pro-android suckers that got tricked.
"Good morning, Detective Reed. Is there something I can do for you?" he asked, in his unreasonably polite voice. Everybody knew of the rivalry between the two detectives. You'd think the android would stop greeting him after a while, but maybe his delicate little processor couldn't handle the emotion. After all, it isn't like they felt like anything.
"I have a question for you, plastic."
Gavin felt the air around the android grow a little colder as its mood dampened. Then again, mood would suggest emotion, so perhaps Gavin was imagining things.
"Ask away, Detective."
Oh great. He was getting familiar with more phrases. The old Connor would have told him to, "Proceed," or something like that. Oh Lord, they were evolving.
"What's the deal with all those plants of yours?" Gavin asked, swinging his arm around as he gesturing towards the wall of potted plants. Wait, was that a sixth one?
Connor's eyes widened as Gavin thrust his arm out.
"Careful, you knock them over."
As if it had the capacity to care.
"So? What are they here for?"
"Androids, especially those who have deviated, display a unique ability to bond with living organisms. If you've heard about any of the deviancy cases, you may remember-"
"Oh yeah, one of you freaks were living with and feeding a bunch of pigeons!"
"…yes. I have also noticed a strong bond between Lieutenant Anderson's dog and myself. However, I can't bring the dog to the precinct with me, so I decided to settle on trying out plants. I was concerned that you and the others may find an issue in it."
"So… you wanted to have a living being as a companion at work, and instead of a dog, you decided to get a plant?"
"Essentially."
"I suppose that's a valid excuse for a plastic like you, but why so many? I'm counting six plants here!"
"I appear to have a malfunction in my impulse control."
"Great. The android is addicted to buying plants. Unbelievable."
"I made sure that the plants I purchased had few allergy risks to prevent any discomfort in the precinct."
Huffing, Gavin turned to leave, deciding to report his findings to the other workers of the precinct.
In his head, Gavin was wondering why the android was such a weirdo, before realizing that the android had claimed to like something. That wasn't possible for machines.
In his head, Connor was silently thrilled that somebody cared to ask him about the new additions to his desk.