Work Text:
If anyone had told Gavin Reed that he would agree without a fight for his android detective partner to hang out at his house to think over a problematic case after work, he’d think they were taking the piss. Or that they were Tina; one and the same, really.
In the moment, it was almost relaxing to be settled on the couch on his tablet next to a focused Nines, each thinking it over in silence. For some reason, being away from the precinct and its constant monitoring made Gavin less of a dick. Probably the knowledge that nobody would believe Nines if he went around telling coworkers that Gavin could, in fact, be a nice guy from time to time.
Gavin leaned over to nudge Nines in the shin, shoes still on. “Got anything?”
“If I had, Detective, I would have informed you.” Nines smirked at him, “Pinky promise.”
“Shut up,” Gavin barely stifled a surprised laugh.
The silence returned, occasionally interrupted by Gavin shifting in his seat. It was noticeable when there were a couple distinct clicking sounds in the direction of the kitchen, and a distant alarm going off at the end of the hallway outside the apartment.
“Do you hear that?” The lights in the living room all flickered, then cut out. “Shit.”
“That’s not ideal,” Nines remarked. Given the only window faced away from the moon and the streetlamps below were dimmed to a fraction of their usual brightness, it was nearly completely dark within the room.
Gavin replied harshly, “Yeah, you think? Fuck, do I–” He stumbled off the couch, wandering away, and Nines heard a thump as he smacked into the wall. “I’m okay.” The shaky footsteps continued, until they reached the kitchen and Gavin pulled open a creaky cupboard door. “Ah! Found it.” Nines then heard a button clicking, a thump, then a sigh. “My damn flashlight ran out.”
“No need, Detective,” Nines called out.
Gavin remained distracted: “Who the fuck keeps candles around anymore?! I don’t–”
“Detective.” Nines rose from the couch and approached easily. “Don’t worry, I’ve got it.” In the next second, the LED on his temple brightened, allowing them to see each other with about the same difficulty as a phone screen on medium brightness.
“Huh.” Gavin seemed shocked.
“What is it?”
“Nothing, I just– forgot you could do that.” Gavin leaned closer and tapped the light with his index finger. It remained glowing, and Gavin realised how close he was. He stepped back quickly. “Sorry.”
Nines rolled his eyes, and took Gavin’s forearm to pull him along. “Come with me.” He led the way back to the living room, not tripping once - even correcting Gavin when he nearly slammed his hip into the corner of the coffee table.
“How can you see anything on the ground right now?”
“It’s not difficult. You know, with functioning eyesight.” Nines sat down neatly, tugging Gavin’s arm to have him sit on his left side where the LED was most visible.
“Non-human eyesight, you mean.” Nines could sense Gavin side-eyeing him. “Don’t act so smug, you’re pretty much a pair of binoculars with extra parts.”
“Wow. Truly eloquent; I have no idea why people mock your use of language, you are a literary visionary.”
Gavin smacked his shoulder lightly. “Hush.” He felt around on the couch, finding his tablet easily - quickly finding that it wouldn’t reconnect to the WiFi.
“I’m not picking up any signal.”
“Neither am I; my servers are offline,” Nines frowned slightly, “Still, this does provide an excellent opportunity to search through my databanks for anything I may have overlooked.”
Gavin snorted. “Like hell - you remember everything, Robocop, I doubt that’ll do any good for the case.”
“Perhaps.”
Nines gave him no other response: he sighed, “Whatever. Give it a shot.”
The room went quiet as Nines did just that. The LED began cycling.
“I could really do for a functional coffee machine right now,” Gavin complained. Nines ignored him.
Nearly fifteen minutes later, according to Nines’ internal clock, the apartment’s appliances began humming as the electricity returned with a vengeance. The lamps turned back on, and everything appeared as it had been before the power outage.
Nines hummed quietly as he scanned the room, taking notice of Gavin’s lack of response to the changes. “Detective?”
He turned his head and spotted Gavin - who, at some point during Nines’ processing, had fallen asleep and was now napping peacefully against the couch, leaning with his face still tilted towards Nines’ LED.
Cute, Nines couldn’t stop himself from thinking. But he said nothing else - not wanting to disturb the rare peace. (Absolutely not because he wanted to preserve the moment of near-contact.)
…I’ll give it a couple minutes before waking him up. Maybe that’ll give him some rest for once.