Tick Tock Part One - Hickory

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"Reed! My office!" Fowler's low voice boomed from the glass door of his office, otherwise known as The Goldfish Bowl. Reed swigged his cold coffee and glared at the glass box almost resentfully. Don't I have enough shit to do already? He heaved an internal sigh as he stood, barely able to see his desk through all the open case files scattered across the surface. Things had been tough since the revolution. A real sigh slipped out as he looked across at Jack's desk. The desk that had been empty for over two years now. A desk he still hadn't cleared off and, to his credit, Fowler hadn't asked him to. He tapped the dusty surface on the way by, not daring to look at the family picture that still sat there taunting him.

"Captain?" he grumbled as he shut the door and made his way to the desk, where Fowler was no better off than he was. There were so many files, he'd even piled them in a large cardboard box on the floor, all of them still waiting to be reviewed and signed off. Fowler waved an inviting hand at the empty chairs in front of his desk and leaned back for the first time in hours, pushing down the relieved groan in his throat. He seemed pretty at ease for a change, which meant he probably wasn't in trouble for anything at least. Reed sank into one of the smaller leather chairs and casually cocked one foot over his knee.

"How's it looking out there, Reed?" Fowler asked tiredly as they both looked out at the busy bullpen. To say it was bustling would be an understatement. Almost every officer was juggling both a phone and at least two files if they were sitting at their desks while others were interviewing victims or suspects and even more were out on patrol. The only quiet area was the small space where Reed's desk stood just across from Hank and his pet android's. Those desks were obviously empty. The past few months had been a complete shit-show and, without Hank, running the homicide division had pretty much fallen on Reed's shoulders.

"We're in the shit, Cap, and it won't get any better until we find some new recruits." Reed sighed tiredly as he leaned back and ran a hand over his face. This was the first break he'd taken in twelve hours, already working well past the end of his shift. Hell, he'd barely stopped at all in the past forty-eight hours. He didn't have time! Not with all the open cases he'd picked up. Fucking android cases. With Lieutenant Anderson suspended for God-knows-how-long, and his plastic pet mercifully gone, all the android cases had fallen to the next highest-ranking officer. Bingo. Detective Reed.

"I may just have a solution for that...Here, our latest applicant." Fowler's expression was guarded as he pushed a thin dossier across the glass desk. It certainly didn't look like much, so definitely not a transfer. A fresh graduate? Reed met Fowler's dark eyes suspiciously as he took the file and flipped it open. He scoffed almost straight away as he looked down at the unpleasantly familiar photograph. You've got to be phcking kidding me! "It's a good resume," Fowler defended with a shrug, his posture almost daring him to voice his objections.

"Is this a phcking joke? That machine is a phcking menace!" Reed snapped predictably as he tossed the file back on the desk. He was careful not to hit the small potted plant that sat on the corner. He was an ass, but not that much of an ass. Fowler sat back with a roll of his eyes as Reed got to his feet and prowled back and forth like a caged animal. He often reminded him of a jaguar. Calculating eyes, lithe body, quick movements, and sharp claws. Had one hell of a bite, too. He'd actually been surprised when FBI agents found him unconscious down in the evidence locker after his last encounter with the RK800.

"Is that a fact, or are you just being a sore loser?" Fowler challenged with an almost teasing edge to his tone. Reed paused, fusing his lips together like he'd just eaten something sour. He rested his hands on his denim-clad hips, tapping one tanned heel on the floor. He hated being forced to swallow his pride.