Rk900 One-Shots

suspect

Each of the two officers had one hand clamped on her shoulders and the other on her upper bicep. Sitting her down roughly, they swapped out the handcuffs with the ones connected to the rickety table. She felt the cool metal shut, it was a couple notches too tight.

She caught a scoff in her throat, not wanting to upset the policemen. She needed to do anything to get out of the pickle she was in. She needed to be solely a suspect, nothing more and everything less. She didn't murder anyone, she just seemed highly suspicious.

She heard the door close, feeling a little intimidated already. It was an odd feeling, not knowing who was going to interrogate her. It was growing to be uncomfortable. She loosen slightly, realizing that it was just the officers leaving.

Waiting for someone to come in was not fun for her. In fact, it just made her more nervous. She had no reason to. Unless being a bit closer than comfort was a crime. There was no ill intent behind her thoughts, just normal places one could think of before the possibility of spending time in prison.

She lost track of time at three minutes before her mind wandered somehow to the last time she got her haircut. It's safe to say her attention span was not a strong suit.

Before things got too out of hand, the door opened and she could hear clicking of dress shoes. Based from the sound alone, it had to be a man or a broad-footed shoe. The noise was hollow and quite satisfying to hear in a silent room. She closed her eyes for a second and when she opened them, she saw a tall man.

An android.

But that really didn't matter. She knew he was going to get what he wanted.

He looked tall. Perhaps giraffe height. And like someone she did not want to mess with. A fitted grey suit hugged his muscles as the light shifted and contoured them. He was wearing a pair of darker grey slacks. There wasn't much special about them. The small buttons on his button-up were matte against the harsh lighting in the room, no tie. Which she found a bit odd. She thought that all androids wore ties — at least from the television commercials, advertisements littered around Detroit, and news stations.

She brushed it off and watched him closely as he sat down. The small frown on his lips as he sat down, to the twitch in his eyebrow when he looked at the file on the table. It was interesting how human they could make an android. From every noticeable freckle on his face, to his Persian grey eyes that scanned everything on those sheets of paper.

She stared as long as she could at his face, not wanting to forget a thing about it. His chocolate brown hair was neat, but in a messy way. It fit how he presented himself. His jawline was defined.

Her thoughts were interrupted by shuffling of paper — photos to be more precise — and she was brought back to reality.

She was not going to be the one to speak first, she didn't even have a lawyer. Even if she was going to bring them up, that would make her suspicious. And, once again, that was the last thing she wanted. Her breathing increased slightly as she felt pressure built up in her chest.

It felt like butterflies. In the worst way. Perhaps maybe butter knifes instead. A churning feeling was added to the mix, allowing she to assume she was cramping. She had no reason to be nervous or scared. She was fine. Everything was going to be fine.

"Do you recognize this person?" He slid a photograph in her direction and she leaned forward to take a good look at it.

She frowned, tilting her head to the side slightly, "Um... actually, yes, I do. That's my sister's husband. Why?" She knew why. She was brought into custody for goodness sake. She didn't want to believe it though.