"It's good to see you back, kid." Hank nods at me before picking up his car keys off the corner desk. "How are you holding up?"

I smiled, hoping to be at least a little convincing. "I'm good. It's such a shame what happened to Connor."

Hank shakes his head. "About that, there's something I should tell you—"

"Hello, Inara."

It can't be.

"My name is Connor. I'm the android sent by Cyberlife." There he stood. That goofy, lanky looking android in his too perfect tailored suit. "My predecessor was unfortunately destroyed, but Cyberlife transferred its memory and sent me to replace it."

The blood drains from my face, nausea threatening to expel the contents of my stomach. "You died."

"Easy there, Gibson." The Lieutenant squeezes my shoulder. "I know it's a fucking spinout, but it's back."

I ball my fists, digging my short nails into my palm. Don't let them see you crumble. They'll send you straight back home.

"There's not enough coffee to deal with this kind of bullshit," I whisper, honestly a little pissed at Hank for not letting me know sooner.

"I'll get you one," Connor pipes up, heading for the little break room by the entrance. "We'll discuss the details of the suspect on the drive to Zlatko's."

I nod. Still woozy from the recent revelation. "I'm, a ..." Shit! What was I saying? I place the small tablet containing the case file onto my adjacent desk. Just breathe. Ah yes, that's it. "Just gonna look through this."

Hank's eyes shift, but he doesn't probe. He sits at his desk, twirling the archaic, metal keys around his index finger.

As I place my thumb on the base of the tablet, the screen illuminates, showing me the suspect's case file.

The mug shot looking back at me rings alarm bells. On the contrary, his generic appearance should've put me at ease. But there was something about that smile. Despite being caught, he was grinning from ear to ear, making me believe that he's up to something other than the fraud and embezzlement that he'd been convicted for.

His name has come up several times when questioning owner's of missing androids. "He likes to mess with them," one of his neighbours had said. "Like some sort of Frankenstein."

Well, this'll be fun.

"So what are we questioning Mr. Andronikov about exactly?" I ask Hank, breaking him out of his little key trance.

"Just asking a few 'casual' questions about the missing androids in his neighbourhood." He rubs at his eyes, sitting back in his wheely chair. "I'm getting too old for this shit."

"Hey, asshole! I'm talkin' to you!" Gavin's sandpaper tones fill the entire office. "Bring me a coffee, dipshit."

I spin my chair, just in time to see weasel dick shoving Connor. Who does he think he is?

"Is this guy for real?" I say, heading towards the break room.

"Don't bother." Hank holds his hand out, shooing me. "You get involved in that, it'll look like ten pounds of shit shoved in a five-pound bag."

"Well, I owe him."

Hank shakes his head. "That's not even the same plastic prick that came in—"

"Whatever." I shake my head and continue on to the break room.

Everyone in the office averts their eyes. Detective Reed screeches in Connor's unflinching face. No one wants to get involved.

"Detective Reed?" I yell, causing the entire precinct's eyes to dart to me.

"Yes, precious?" Gavin leans on the break room's entryway. "Is there something I can help you with?"

"You can start by leaving Connor alone. We've got a suspect to get to." I cross my arms and make my stance wide, as if that would make up for the almost foot in height.

"Ohhhhhh, I'm soooo sorry." Gavin's shit-eating grin has as much sincerity as his words. "I don't want to stress you out or anything. Can't have you crying to your Momma, now can we?"

I turn towards Connor, physically shielding myself from Reed's bullshit. "Are you ready to go, Connor?"

He hands me a paper cup and smiles. "Yes, detective Gibson."

I can't help but snicker as Connor stands in the middle of the break room, and adjusts his tie.

Gavin stands there, stunned to silence. We're almost out of the office when he yells, "where's my fucking coffee?"

Right up your bum, Gavin. Way right up there.

I'm surprised to find Hank waiting for us next to his ancient mode of transport. He takes a cheeky swig from a silver flask, then places it back into his breast pocket.

"I told you not to poke the bear, kid. And what do you do?" He grumbles. "Gavin's a fucking pain in my ass, and you've gone and jabbed him in the eye."

"It was fun," I say. "You should join in next time."

"The day I help an android ..." His ramblings jumble in, so much that I can only make out a few curse words.

I decide to leave lying dogs and take Connor's lead, and hop into the vehicle. "Buckle in," I chirp, embarrassingly proud of my mastery of the manual seat belt.

Hank starts up the car, and loops his hand behind Connor's headrest and backs out of the spot. "Okay, so I'm in charge of talking to the suspect, got it?"

"Yes Lieutenant," we chorus back.

"Yeah, we'll see how long that attitude fucking lasts this time." His knuckles turn white as he grips onto the steering wheel. "I want this to go off without a hitch, for once."

There's silence as we drive down towards the suburbs. When we pull up in front of Zlatko's residence, I tilt my head. The building looks straight out of a horror movie. The wooden roof tiles curl up, showing signs of dire need of repair. The multi-story mansion has a tinge of green, moss taking over the dark brick. From the swirling, wrought-iron fencing to the large property it's obvious that this place used to be something. But no longer.

"Yeah, alright." Hank shuts the door then places his hands on hips. "This place isn't fucking creepy at all."

"Took the words right out of my mouth," I say.

"Can I help you?"

Shit!

Zlatko walks in front of us with a large, dark android by his side. As the suspect looks into my eyes, you might as well be pouring slime down my back. This guy is bad news.

As Connor attempts to walk ahead, the hulking android towers over him, his circle flickering red.

"Now, now Luther. That's no way to treat guests." Zlatko chuckles. "I'll ask again, can I help you?"

"I'm Lieutenant Anderson. This is detective Gibson and our android, Connor." Hank holds his hands in his pockets, calm as can be. "We just were asking a few people in the neighbourhood about some missing androids and were wondering if you'd be so kind as to answer a few questions."

Hank Anderson, bullshit artist. I should be taking notes.

Zlatko's eyes dart towards Connor and he smiles. "Not a problem. How about you come in for a cup of coffee, and I'll answer whatever you want to know."

"Sure," Hank waves at us. "Let's go."

I don't know about this.

Choices:

Choose wisely, we are giving you more time to think it over. You've got until January 1st.  See you next year!