Partners - Reed900 series

Fireworks

This was the first Fourth of July since the android revolution. Maybe that was why Gavin had already put his first offender in a holding cell by two in the afternoon, just an hour into his shift. Before the revolution he might not even have arrested the guy, but now androids had equal rights and shit and it had become 'assault of an officer' instead of 'damaging of property'.

Not that the RK900 actually got hurt. Its shirt was ruined; cooking oil splattered all over its sleeve and some on the side of its pants. The oil had been hot, ready for the food to go in. If it were not for the android's inhuman reflexes, RK900 might have been hit full in the face. Now it was just the left arm and part of its upper leg. The hot oil would severely burn a human, even through a layer of clothing, but the android had not even flinched and immediately proceeded to bring its assaulter to the ground in a swift and controlled movement.
They were working together for, what, over three months now? Long enough for Gavin to know his partner was holding back its strength most of the time. For fuck's sake, he had seen it yank a car door off the chassis like it was tearing a piece of paper in two. The way the android was holding its assaulter to the ground was surely a bit uncomfortable for the man, yet it was nowhere near hurting him. Hell, Gavin probably hurt him more when he pushed him into the holding cell, making him bump his shin into the low bench.

The RK900 was by the front counter, holding its hand against the terminal in that weird android way. The skin was peeled back from its hand, exposing the white and grey plastic underneath. It still weirded Gavin out - though in a fascinating kind of way - and shit like this was a firm reminder that his partner was not made of flesh and blood. His partner was an android: a walking, talking supercomputer wrapped in a hull that resembled a human body closely. Only it was not human, it was way too perfect for that.

There was not one ugly CyberLife issued android - RK900 was no exception, Gavin was not blind, you know - and ever since their introduction they were all programmed with the same polite, friendly attitude. Androids didn't have 'off days', they never got sick, they didn't get sweaty and smelly from physical labour. It was all fake. Gavin hated that.
Granted, ever since they started deviating, the android population became more diverse. Gavin experienced first hand that Connor wasn't always gentle and polite. Androids could be assholes too. Perfect looking assholes with perfect track records and more endurance than the most fit police officer.

Connor had been the Deviant Hunter and the RK900 was meant to replace the plastic wonder boy, meaning it was a Connor-plus: bigger, faster, meaner. It was supposed to be better too, yet it had nothing on its predecessor when it came to appearing human. It had a giant stick up its mechanic ass, making it stiff and awkward in most social situations. That annoyed Gavin to no end, especially in the beginning. Having to work with an android was one thing, but did it have to be such a machine?

However, Gavin was stuck with it as a partner, something that Captain Fowler had made very clear from the first day on. He had made peace with that, even if it took at least three weeks before he stopped acting outright hostile and another three or four before he started asking for things instead of just ordering the android around.

He had been without a partner for the last three years, save for temporary partners when he worked particularly large cases. The year before that, his first year as a detective, he had Lee as his partner, until the guy transferred to another precinct. Probably fed up with Gavin's bullshit, he wouldn't be the first one. Even as a beat cop he never kept a partner for long, he always made sure he didn't get close to them anyway.
A psychologist would maybe tell you that was because his very first partner got shot and died, his colleagues at the precinct would probably say it was because he's a major asshole, and his grandmother would tell him he didn't know how to make friends if his life depended on it. Well, grandma died eight years ago and Gavin refused to see a psychologist except for his bi-yearly mandatory psych evaluation, so his colleagues were probably right. He's the resident asshole. So what? We all need a place in society.