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On the Scene

RK900 x gn!Detective!Reader

Lt. Hank Anderson and Det. Connor Anderson are on the scene of a grisly murder. They have some investigating to do, and not just into the scene of the homicide that you and Richard were first called to inspect.

A/N: phew! first real post in a while. DBH has a chokehold on me and I have no idea how it happened (I haven't even gotten the game yet—I'm waiting for it to go on sale). That being said, hope this isn't too OOC! I was inspired to write this by the one scene in A Study in Pink from BBC's Sherlock. I messed around with the scene so the dialogue isn't a carbon copy, though.

Yes, I settled on calling Nines Richard (I'm indecisive). Hank calls him Nines as a nickname of sorts.

warnings: implied sexual references, sorely lacking in beta reading

read here on ao3

Cold, damp nights like these were not entirely uncommon in Detroit. If anything, they were a part of the city’s branding. 

After all of his years in the God-forsaken city, Lieutenant Hank Anderson knew at least that much. 

His CD player blasting heavy metal, he slowed his aging car to a stop on the side of a residential street in a more tasteful stretch of Detroit. Police cruisers and personnel crowded the street already narrowed with cars parked beside the curb on each side. The house in question was cast in the blue and red light of the cruisers’ beacons, an adequate welcome for those who chose to step inside. 

Hank eased himself out of the driver’s seat and into the chilly air, groaning as his joints protested. His partner Connor, ever so enthusiastic when it came to work, exited from the other side and followed Hank with quick, precise strides until they reached the yellow holographic police tape set up around the crime scene. 

“Hello, Lieutenant, Detective.” The duo was greeted by the stoic face of Richard, the DPD’s RK900 investigator android, who was just about as close to a brother that Connor, the RK800, had. His fair complexion was bathed in the flashing lights of the squad cars and spotlights that had been set up around the scene, but he seemed to pay no mind to the glare.

“Nines.” Hank grunted. “We’re here to see Detective L/N.” Richard raised a perfect brow, his expression set with feigned intrigue. 

“Why?” Hank chuckled.

“We were invited, why else?”

“Is that so?” A grin inched its way onto Hank’s grizzled face.

“I think they want us to take a look at some evidence. Think it might be related to our red ice case. That’s why you made the call, didn’t ya?” Richard cracked a small half-smile. 

“Right as always, Lieutenant. It seems like your investigative skills have stayed sharp after all these years.” Hank barked out a laugh as he and Connor crossed through the holographic boundary. Just as they passed by the RK900, Hank stopped abruptly, wrinkling his nose. 

“Lieutenant?” Connor inquired from beside him. 

“It’s nothin’, son.” It didn’t sound like nothing to Connor—not that he voiced that notion, anyways. From behind their turned backs, Richard’s LED flashed red momentarily. 

They were making their way up the front porch steps when you appeared in the doorway in your CSI jumpsuit and PPE, fiddling with your gloves. 

“Hey, Anderson, so nice of you to finally come.” You greeted the pair with a smile. “Careful with the evidence back there, don’t want to get it contaminated with Sumo’s fur or something. Richard thinks it might be of some help with your red ice case.” 

“You didn’t make it home last night, did ‘ya?” The smile disappeared from your face. That wasn’t the response you had been expecting.

“I’m sorry?”

“Tell me, L/N, did ‘ya at least get someone to feed your cats?” He watched your expression, brows raised with skepticism. “C’mon. You can do a little better than hiding that hickey under your PPE.” He gestured loosely at the collar of your jumpsuit. Your hand instinctively went to the bruise that you knew was blooming underneath the fabric. 

“What—”

“And you, Nines!” Hank called out to Richard, who was just crossing the front yard to join the conversation.

“Is there something you wanted to tell me, Lieutenant?” Richard’s expression and composure were practically free of tics and tells—one of the benefits of being an android, deviant or not, Hank supposed. Richard tilted his head with bemusement.

“Oh, don’t play dumb. Say, are ‘ya trying out some new scent for androids? Smells a lot like L/N’s deodorant if you ask me.”

“Y/N and I spent the night at the precinct,” Richard answered quickly. “We were looking over evidence early this morning when the homicide was called in. They offered me their coat when it began to rain because—”

“Yeah, ‘cause androids don’t like getting their clothes wet after just getting ‘em from the Cyberlife dry cleaners,” he drawled. “Funny that the knees of your slacks are so banged up, Nines. Maybe you should bring ‘em back.”

“Hank, whatever you’re trying to imply—”

“I know, kid, I know. Also, you two are on a first name basis now? Geez, did I miss something while I was on holiday?”

“Hank...” Your voice dripped with exasperation. “Just inspect the damn crime scene, will you?”

“Alright, alright,” Hank waved you off and stepped into the house. “But I’m expecting a wedding invitation by next spring, y’hear?”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

[A/N]: So, yeah, I don't know jack about DBH or BBC's Sherlock...well, reading the BBC's Sherlock manga counts as interacting with the source material, right?

Hope you enjoyed! Thanks for reading x

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