☆Happy Birthday, Gavin Reed!☆ | A DBH Mini-Fic (Detroit: Become Human)

Ch. 3

Gavin and Nines step through the doors of the precinct, and, surprisingly, the place is still extremely empty.

"Everyone's still at that meeting, huh?" Gavin says, raising a brow.

"Hm, I suppose so." Nines' eyes sweep the bullpen, observing that not a single person is present. "We should at least catch the end of that meeting."

Gavin sighs exasperatedly. "Do we have to though?"

"Yes," Nines laughs, "We do. You're lucky I was able to get you out of as much as I did."

"I know," Gavin shakes his head.

"How about this - I head back there now, and if I'm not back in three minutes, you have to join me?" Nines proposes.

"Deal." Gavin smiles. Precinct-wide meetings were a completely different level of hell to Gavin - he'd rather deal with one thousand murders than sit through one of Fowler's several hour long yap sessions.

He watches Nines start off towards the meeting room, and it might just be Gavin's imagination, but he swears he sees the android smiling as he walks toward the room.

Of course, that freak actually enjoys those meetings. Bet he reads the manual for his own fuckin' microwave, too. Wait, do androids own microwaves? They have to, right? Well, they don't eat food, so maybe not... but I know they've got fridges for their blue blood shit. Maybe they nuke their blood for flavor? That's fucking disgusting, there's no way they do that. Unless...?

Gavin let his mind wander down that rabbit hole for maybe a little too long, thinking of literally every possible circumstance where an android may use a microwave. After a few more trains of thought, Gavin realizes that WAY more than three minutes have likely passed.

Shit. He glances around the hauntingly empty precinct, deciding that even if that company is boring as hell, he'd prefer it to sitting out here completely isolated.

He begins to walk down the hallway, hearing his shoes clicking too loudly against the marble floor. His eyes rest on the handle of the meeting room door for a moment, he considers just turning back and leaving Nines to fend for himself in there. However, his better judgment gets the better of him, and he decides he ought to at least drop in.

Slowly, he places his hand on the doorknob and turns it, opening the door.

To his confusion, the room behind the door is pitch black. Not a light is on in there.

Did I go to the wrong room or something?

Suddenly, the lights flip on, revealing a horde of people clad in police uniforms and cheap party hats.

"SURPRISE!!!" They all holler at once, their screams accompanied by a small chorus of party kazoos.

Gavin nearly shits his pants.

"OH FUC– Oh, fuck you!" Gavin laughs, smiling widely. "Scared the shit out of me!"

Everyone in the room laughs, and another small chorus of party kazoos follow.

"What is this?" Gavin looks around the room, bewildered confusion displayed across his face.

Streamers are strung from the ceiling in near-perfect spacing. Helium balloons of nearly every variety are tied to the backs of chairs and legs of tables. Cheap plastic tablecloths cover the tables, and on top of the table in the back are snacks alcohol, and a beverage he doesn't recognize.

Fuck... is this...? Gavin realizes in horror. Ohhhh God, kill me now.

Nines appears seemingly out of nowhere, a bright blue party hat atop his head. "Happy Birthday, Gavin!" He plops an orange hat onto a still-reeling Gavin.