Like Fire and Powder

01. Irrational Is the New Rational

Rationalizing is faulty, defensive thinking, motivated by the desire to retain self-respect. It serves this purpose, at least temporarily, by enabling us to avoid facing issues and to excuse our failures.

-- Norman Munn, Psychology: The Fundamentals of Human Adjustment

〇〇〇

It was three in the morning, and you were shivering, wet from the rain, in a very provocative, very revealing bunny costume.

Now, this wasn't where you'd expected your night to go.

No, not at all. The night had started with you at the bar with Connor and Gavin, going over the android sex ring case you'd all been assigned months ago.

Connor's LED flickered yellow, and he informed both you and Gavin that there was an update on the case; Fowler wanted all of you at Red Sattva immediately.

You all crammed into Gavin's cruiser with the paperwork, turned the sirens on, and set off as quickly as possible.

Red Sattva was an infamous nightclub in downtown Detroit, known for its ties to various drug lords and a few big families involved with the mafia. The DPD had trouble pinning anything on Red Sattva and its owner for years, though, because it was extremely exclusive -- all the androids and humans who worked there went through very difficult vetting processes.

And the club was even pickier with the members they let in.

After an anonymous android came forward and offered a way to get into the club, even providing their uniform to the DPD, Fowler contacted you and the boys. His instructions had been clear: you would wear the bunny costume and infiltrate Red Sattva with backup just around the corner in case anything happened.

Well, something had happened, which had resulted in a firefight and multiple wounded officers and civilians. The DPD had burst into the club and tried to get everything under control, and you'd hid behind the bar with workers. The chaos had lasted a whole fifteen minutes before members of the club had relented and turned themselves in, but the owner, Coltin Appel, had escaped.

Of course, you thought bitterly, biting at your lip. The street was blocked off by multiple cruisers, and there were ambulances everywhere, and the night was lit up with red and blue, reflecting off the wet, now glimmering streets. You shifted uncomfortably, thinking about taking off your heels when you felt something being draped across your shoulders.

You turned to see Connor in his white button-down and loose tie, and he adjusted his jacket -- now on your shoulders. You grabbed onto it, smiling.

"Thanks, Connor," you said.

"No problem, Detective (Y/l/n)," he said, nodding with a small smile.

You were about to shake your head but thought better of it. He'd been programmed to use formal titles when working, so you knew it'd probably take a while for him to get used to being a little less formal.

It'd been three years since the uprisings, and Hank had retired just a few months ago. To replace Hank, the department had paired you with Connor because of some dumb personality test -- and the fact that they'd deemed you the least aggressive detective when it came to working with androids.

It was a stroke of luck, really, that you'd ended up working with Connor. You knew Hank from a few years ago when you'd just started as an officer, eventually working with him on a few cases. He was someone you'd always looked up to, even if he did go through a few rough patches.