(no subject)

[longsufferingly]

Title: Look What They Made
Author: poor_choices
Fandom: Supernatural RPS
Pairing: Jensen Ackles/Jared Padalecki; Jeffrey Dean Morgan/Danneel Harris
Rating: R
Warnings: Murder (pre-story, not a main character); mentions of prostitution.
Word Count: 10000.
Summary: When a high-profile robotic rights lawyer is murdered, Detective Jared Padalecki is assigned a new partner--advanced robot Jensen Ackles. To say Jared isn't looking forward to working with a bot is a massive understatement, and he has no idea what he's in for.
Notes: For electricalgwen for her generous bid in help_japan! She asked for an Asimov-inspired J2 AU, and I ran with that despite never having actually read Asimov. I hope it is something like what you wanted ♥ Title from The Verve.
Disclaimer: Lies and untruths.


The first instant is nothing but change.

In the next seconds, the words come, first simple--light, shape, eyes, open--and then forming into ideas--my eyes have opened, I can see. There are people in front of him, two--female--with their bodies covered. Clothes, he finds. Humans wear clothes. He is wearing something else--a sheet. For modesty. Humans believe in keeping their bodies covered. He has been given all this knowledge.

"Name," says the woman in front of him. He knows her name; it's been provided to him. Dr. Agena. She has glasses on her face, to help her see. He does too, as camouflage. His sight is perfect, of course.

"Jensen," he says.

"Registration number."

"ACK-4108."

"Date of birth."

He pauses. She knows, obviously, that he wasn't born, but there is an answer she's looking for. He is meant to be human, when he has to be. Humans have birthdays. She is testing his reasoning.

"March 1, 2027."

"Explain."

"Today is my activation day," he says. "Logically, it makes sense to use it for my birth date. Physically and developmentally, I'm at the level of a 28-year-old human. My year of birth reflects this."

Dr. Agena nods, making a few notes on her tablet. "Good. Do you know why you're here?"

Jensen pauses, looking for it. "A murder," he says, carefully.

"Yes," says Dr. Agena. "You'll be working with a human partner. I just need to verify you're aware of the details of the case."

"Deceased is Eric Kripke, age 32. Known robot-rights activist. Found dead in his home February 25. Due to the strength required to inflict the fatal injuries and lack of forensic evidence at the scene, police suspect robotic involvement. Investigation has been so far unsuccessful."

Dr. Agena nods. "And your partner's name?"

"Padalecki," he says. "Jared."

*

"You're working with a bot?" asks Chad. "Seriously?"

Jared sighs, throwing back his shot and motioning for another. "Seriously," he says. "Apparently I can't investigate them without their help. Sounds like bullshit to me."

"Yeah, well, it's a high-profile case for the bots, right? One of them kills one of us who was trying to help 'em. They probably hate the perp more than you do."

Jared snorts. "Dude, they're bots. They don't hate anything. They don't have feelings. They're fuckin' machines."

Chad smirks, lewd and obnoxious. "They're definitely fuckin' machines," he agrees, "but I'm pretty sure they're feeling something."

Jared shudders. "You're disgusting, man. I get bots are cheaper than regular prostitutes, but you're not exactly hard up. You could afford the real thing."

"You can do stuff with bots you could never do with people," Chad says. "You program in whatever you want and they'll be totally in to it, no complaints, no nothing."

"Sorry you're too lazy to find a real girl who'll roleplay with you," Jared says. He sighs. "Fuck, I should get back. I'm meeting the partner tomorrow."

Chad shakes his head. "Never thought I'd see you working with a bot, man."

"Like I had a choice," says Jared. "It's my assignment."

"Still," says Chad. "It's not exactly you."

Jared sighs, taking his last shot and standing. "Yeah, well. It's just one case, right? How bad can it be?"

*

Jared Padalecki is 6'4", muscular, with hair that falls into his eyes despite government regulations. He doesn't wear a suit, instead favoring a casual long-sleeved shirt and denim trousers. Jensen knows he's over-dressed, comparatively, but that his attire is professional.

"Padalecki," says Ferris. She's the head of detectives, and Padalecki's superior. Jensen's too, for the moment. "You're late."

"You know me, Sam," says Padalecki, with a shrug that seems a little too unconcerned, from what Jensen knows of it. Everything about him seems calculated to show unconcern. It's a tactic Jensen knows some detectives take. "Always like to make an entrance."

"Well, maybe your new partner will keep you in line," Ferris says, and Jensen takes it as his sign to stand.

Padalecki looks him up and down, the same calculated laziness hiding genuine understanding. There's no doubt Padalecki is a good detective.

"Y'all are getting more realistic every day, huh?" he says.

Jensen shrugs himself, imitating Padalecki's earlier unconcern. "That's the general idea."

Padalecki nods, once. "Well, it'll be useless for undercover work."

"How do you figure?" asks Ferris.

"Look at it. It's like it read a book about detectives and decided to dress up like one."

"My clothing was provided by the department," says Jensen. "Apparently you don't agree with their dress code." He shrugs again. "I do have other clothing."

"No one taught it how to talk, either."

"You're not so great at it either," Jensen says. "And I'm male."

"I didn't know they bothered making the detectives fully functional," says Padalecki. "Seems like a lot of work for no reward."

"Jared," says Ferris, voice sharp. "He's your partner, and you'll treat him with respect. Your politics don't come into this. You've got a job to do. Do I make myself clear, Detective?"

"Crystal," says Padalecki. He looks at Jensen. "What's your name?"

"Jensen Ackles," says Jensen.

"He's a Special Operative," says Ferris. "Under federal jurisdiction. You're on different payrolls, you don't outrank him. So don't act like you do."

It's not an explicit dismissal, but Jensen recognizes it anyway.

"Thanks for the pep talk, boss," Jared says, with a non-regulation salute. "An inspiration as always."

Jensen stands too, and extends his hand. It's appropriate for the situation; a salute is not. "Thank you, ma'am."

"You could learn some manners from this one, Jared," says Ferris.

"You'd be disappointed if I did," says Padalecki. "You love me just the way I am."

"You wish," says Ferris. "Get out."

Padalecki goes first, and Jensen follows. He has long strides, but Jensen doesn't have human limitations of speed, and he keeps up easily, walking next to him with his own calculated nonchalance. As if he hadn't even noticed what he was doing.

Padalecki looks unimpressed. "You're not being exactly subtle," he says. "Humans don't walk that fast."

"I'm in the station," Jensen points out. "The employees know I'm a robot. There's no particular point in my allowing you to win this pissing contest."

Padalecki snorts. "Pissing contest? Seriously? Dude, don't try using natural human words. You sound even weirder."

"Not attempting to blend right now, man," Jensen says, allowing his voice to relax and get casual. "What's the point? Everybody knows."

Padalecki looks reluctantly impressed. "Could be worse. You have other clothes?"

"I've been told my apartment is fully stocked."

"You've been told."

"I haven't been there yet," Jensen says, shrugging. "I spent the night in the Robotics Institute."

"Why?"

"Diagnostics."

"So you're new to the city," Padalecki says.

"Naturally," says Jensen.

"Where were you before?"

"I wasn't."

Padalecki looks confused. "What do you mean?"

"Investigative operatives are activated on a case-by-case basis," says Jensen, raising his eyebrows. "You weren't briefed?"

Jared licks his lips, like he's trying to buy time to figure out how to act. "I never paid much attention to bot protocol. Never came up."

"It's come up now," Jensen says. "Do you want me to change and meet you somewhere for reconnaissance?"

Jared considers. "Yeah, sure. Something casual. You know how humans dress, right?"

"We're supposed to be as human as possible. You realize that, don't you?"

"You're not doing that well."

Jensen rolls his eyes. "Just tell me where to meet you, okay?"

*

Jensen arrives at the scene before Jared does. It's dressed in jeans and a t-shirt, glasses traded for shades. Its sneakers look worn in and comfortable.

Jared has to admit, he'd never know.

"Are you always late?" asks Jensen. Jared didn't know bots were sufficiently advanced that they could sound pissy. "Is this a thing that I should get used to? I could bring a book."

"This is why I hate partners," says Jared, rolling his eyes. "Were you programmed to sound exactly like my mother?"

"Not unless there is something very wrong with my vocal calibrations," Jensen says, dry as sand. "Also, if you want me to pass, you can't talk about my programming. You'll blow my cover."

Jared tries not to scowl--he doesn't exactly like admitting that it's right. "Fine," says Jared. "This is Gamble and Associates. Until Kripke was murdered, it was Kripke, Gamble, and Associates."

"The only firm that represents robots in legal matters," Jensen agrees. "I have been given all the relevant information for the case." It gives Jared a look that really does remind him of his mother. It's unnerving to see from something that isn't even human.

"Great," says Jared. "We're meeting with Sera Gamble. She knows what you are, so don't worry about your cover."

"I'm an individual," Jensen says.

"Sure," says Jared, absently.

"I'm a who."

Jared blinks. "That's what they're saying here," he settles on. "Just the place for you."

Jared heads inside, letting Jensen follow him. "Padalecki," he says, with a big smile for the guy at the front desk. "We have an appointment with Ms. Gamble."

"Padalecki," it says, with a slightly metallic twang in its voice. A robot. They really are getting more realistic every day. Now that Jared looks, he sees the chip on the back of the bot's hand, the golden R all civilian bots wear to let humans like him know they aren't real. "Ms. Gamble is waiting for you."

"Thank you," says Jensen. He's more advanced than the model at the desk--the government can afford bots that could fool anyone. "We appreciate your help."

The bot nods. "Take the elevator to five. Her office is on the right. You're expected."

Jensen waves to the bot; Jared doesn't bother. It's not like it has feelings.

"Did a robot run over your childhood pet?" Jensen asks. "I'm just curious."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Your anti-bot prejudices are staggering," says Jensen. "As far as I know, being polite doesn't to people you don't like doesn't hurt anything."

"What's the point?" asks Jared, shrugging. "It's not like you have feelings to hurt."

Jensen considers. "Maybe not in the same way you do. But we are aware of human protocols. It isn't as if we aren't aware we're being disrespected."

Jared shrugs, but he feels a little less comfortable. "We're here," he says, instead of responding. "Come on, let's go meet the beneficiary."

Sera Gamble doesn't look particularly like someone who recently lost a friend, but Jared has no evidence to support anything beyond a casual working relationship anyway. She stands when they come in, smiling and extending her hand to both of them in turn.

"Gentlemen," she says. "Welcome. I wish I could say it's a pleasure, but given the circumstances, I hope you'll understand that I'm not particularly feeling the love."

"Of course," Jared agrees, smiling at her. She's professional and put together, perfectly attractive, as women go. Nothing jumps out at him as out of the ordinary. "My name is Detective Jared Padalecki, this is my associate, Special Operative Ackles."

Gamble nods at Jared, but shifts her focus to Jensen almost immediately. "Nice to meet you," she says, inclining her head. "Special Operative Ackles, if you don't mind my asking, what model are you?"

"Ackermann, series 4," says Jensen. It seems to mean something to Gamble, who nods.

"A series 4, I'm impressed. I've never met anyone higher than a series 2. And you were activated yesterday, I assume?"

"Yes."

She looks at Jensen thoughtfully, as if she's trying to figure something out. Finally, she says, "I wouldn't dream of overstepping my bounds, but if you find yourself in need of--representation. After the case. Please feel free to give us a call."

Jensen shifts a little, as if she's made it uncomfortable. "I appreciate the offer, Ms. Gamble, but I understand my place in this investigation."

Gamble shrugs, as if she's not surprised by its response. "Well, should you ever change your mind." She clears her throat and leans back, giving them both a smile. "Of course, I'd like to help in any way I can. What can I do for you gentlemen?"

Jared and Jensen exchange a look, and Jared smiles at her, pouring on the charm. Women generally seem to find him attractive, even if he doesn't return the sentiment. "Could you tell us a little bit about what Mr. Kripke was working on? He didn't have any cases currently on trial."

"No," Gamble agrees. She sighs, worrying her lip. "He was working on a fairly controversial case, so we'd been trying to keep it quiet. I haven't seen any coverage of it, even in the non-certified press." She looks at Jensen. "Were you given any data on that?"

Jensen closes its eyes for a second, although Jared can see them moving. It reminds him of footage he once saw of someone sleeping, sped up.

"No," he says.

She nods. "As I said, very hush-hush. But we were hired on by a couple. A female civilian robot and a male human. They were hoping to be married."

Jared chokes on nothing. "Married?" he asks. "That's absurd."

Jensen raises its eyebrows. "You know, it wasn't so long ago that society said the same of you."

Jared looks over. "What?"

"Homosexual marriage," Jensen says, shrugging. "Legalized across the United States in 2020. That was on, what--eleven years before you were born?"

Jared doesn't know how Jensen knew he was queer, but he finds himself bristling a little anyway. "It's different."

"For you it is," says Jensen.

"What, don't tell me you have dreams of getting married."

"Of course I don't," says Jensen, as if this is the stupidest suggestion it's ever heard. "But assuming both parties are consenting and have certification of majority, I don't see a problem."

Gamble clears her throat. Jared realizes it was something of a miscalculation to have this argument in front of her. Sure enough, when she looks at him, her gaze is cold. "Personally, I agree with Special Operative Ackles, but any number of people share your views, Detective Padalecki."

"How many robots do?" asks Jensen, leaning forward. "I assume some of the more radical groups--"

"Of course, there are separatist groups," Gamble agrees. "RII and CFC both are on the record as opposing human-robot marriage."

RII is Robots In Isolation, Jared knows that. He's seen them picketing outside the brothel Chad likes to go to, trying to free the robots working there. They support full separation of humans and robots; Jared's not exactly against the idea himself. "What's CFC?" he asks.

"Cyborgs for Cyborgs," says Jensen. "Not as extreme on the separation front, but strongly support robots becoming more independent from humans and less subordinate."

"Both groups believe any union between human and robot is fundamentally unbalanced. Even if the human has no access to the robot's programming, the human's power is too great," Gamble continues.

"Do you think either of those groups could have found out about Mr. Kripke's involvement in the case?" Jared asks.

Gamble leans back, considering. "I can't rule out the possibility. Any such intelligence would have had to come from within the firm, of course."

"You do have robots in your employment, of course," says Jensen.

"Of course," says Gamble. "You already met Tom, our receptionist. We have several other robots on staff--one of the lawyers, Kristin Kreuk, my assistant, James, one of the janitors..." she shrugs. "I believe it's five in all, I can get you the list."

"All civilian?" asks Jared.

"Kristin was designed to be government," says Gamble. "She was our first case. Defending her right to choose her own path instead of being forced into the government position she was designed for. If you've read anything about us, it's probably that case you know about. It was a landmark in robotic rights."

"I wasn't aware she stayed with the firm," says Jensen.

"It wasn't particularly publicized," says Gamble. "The certified press cared very much that a robot was being allowed to choose her own profession, but they lost interest by the time she'd decided what she wanted to do."

"I assume you don't have any reason to believe any of them are involved in radical groups," says Jared. That would be too easy.

"Not particularly. All of them have always said they're in support of integration and equal rights. I've never had any reason to suspect they were lying."

"We'd like the list of names," says Jared. "And anyone else you suspect might have known what Mr. Kripke was working on."

"And the names of the human and the robot," Jensen adds. "The ones who wanted to get married. It's possible they mentioned the case to friends who weren't completely sympathetic."

"Or were plants themselves," says Jared.

Gamble considers. "I'll have to check before I give you their names--or, I'd prefer to. I know you could force me to give them up. But I think they'd be willing, and I'd prefer to give them the choice."

"That's fine," says Jared. "Send the names by the end of the day."

Gamble nods. "Of course. I want to help in any way I can." She looks out the window, shaking her head. "He didn't deserve to go like that."

"Well," Jared says, rising. "Does anyone?"

*

"Any thoughts?" asks Padalecki, once they're in his car.

Jensen leans back. "I'm not convinced we should be looking for a robot."

"Really," says Padalecki, voice flat.

"Even the most radical groups won't hurt humans. It goes against--well, everything. Our most basic programming."

"Most basic programming?"

Jensen gives him an appraising look. The longer he talks to Padalecki, the more he thinks the man is ignorant, pure and simple. He knows nothing about the realities of robots.

"Any robot who has been officially registered in the United States, civilian or government, has passed the Asimov test. Robots cannot knowingly harm humans, or allow human beings to come to harm. We must obey humans, although that particular law has been modified in certain ways, to make it appropriate to given situations. After all, in a situation where a robot outranks a human, the robot shouldn't be expected to take orders. But those two rules trump all other programming a robot has--to destroy those takes an incredible amount of robotics and programming knowledge."

"So robots can't kill humans," Padalecki says, slowly.

Jensen smirks. "I know there are all kinds of old wives' tales about killer robots coming in the night to destroy innocent children, but no. Not easily."

"How can you be sure?" asks Padalecki.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, everything you know was programmed into you, right?" asks Padalecki. "So how can you be sure it's really true, and not just what the government wants you thinking?"

"I can't," says Jensen, shortly. "So if I say anything you think is wrong, just tell me." He pauses. "The Asimov test should be a matter of public record." He leans forward to access the tablet in Padalecki's transport. "Those can be verified."

"I'm just saying, if that's true, why is the government even entertaining the idea that it could be a robot?"

"Robots have to retake the Asimov test once a year," says Jensen. "To make sure nothing has gone wrong with their programming. It is possible to reprogram a robot so they aren't compliant with the Asimov test." He smiles, feeling his mouth twist with it. "It's possible to program a robot to do anything."

Padalecki is silent for a minute. "So your suspicion would be that--"

"A robot is a tool," Jensen says. "How a tool is used is up to the person using it. It could be a human or another robot, but it's possible--"

"We're not looking for the murderer, we're looking for the person behind the murder."

"We're looking for both," says Jensen, firmly. "We need all the answers." He leans back. "It would be easiest for someone to reprogram a low-level government robot."

"More than a civilian?"

"All civilian robots are self-sufficient," says Jensen. "They can live on their own, have highly developed AIs, and personality chips. The robots that work grunt jobs--DMV, production--those ones can barely think for themselves. They're only programmed to do one thing. There's not as much to overwrite. The other most-likely option is a sex-work robot--those are regularly reprogrammed to suit the preferences of their customers. Less security. But for someone with enough expertise, no robot is off limits."

"What about you?" Padalecki asks, and Jensen thinks it's probably a good sign that he's curious.

"The higher you go in the government robots, the more complicated things get. There's only so realistic they want robots they don't control to be--don't want them to pass for human." He snorts. "Human, but not too human. Not as much of a concern for someone like me."

There's a long pause. Finally, Padalecki says. "Hey, in there. What was Gamble offering?"

"To get me out, same as Kreuk." He considers. "Not quite the same."

"Seemed like you liked being a detective."

"The really good models--the ones you'd never know weren't humans--we don't last much longer than two weeks."

"What do you mean?" asks Padalecki. "Too much technology to keep up?"

Jensen snorts. "Nah, I'd run pretty much forever." He closes his eyes, enjoying looking at nothing for a minute. "Humans get antsy. Letting robots like me run around. I'll do this job--just this. Once the mystery's solved, I get deactivated, taken apart--reused for new robots. I'm made up of a bunch of other detectives."

"What?" asks Padalecki, voice registering shock. "You'll just--be gone?"

"That's the idea."

"Why?"

"Like I said," says Jensen. "Humans get antsy. If there are enough of us--the ones who might as well be human, I mean--well, what do you need humans for anymore?" He looks over at Padalecki. "You've thought that, right? You must have, with how much you hate bots."

Padalecki looks uncomfortable, face all twisted up like he doesn't like his own thoughts.

"Never wanted 'em to die," he says, like he's never really gotten that far thinking about it before. "Just didn't want 'em near me."

Jensen isn't sure what to say to that, so he waits an appropriate amount of time so that Padalecki knows he's changing the subject. "So," he says. "What next?"

"I'm hungry," says Padalecki. "Do you eat?"

"Not really," says Jensen. "But I fake it pretty well."

*

It nags at Jared. He's sitting there, looking at Jensen, who's a day old and only has until they solve this case. If they have a breakthrough tomorrow, that's it.

"Do you not care?" he asks. "Or are you programmed not to care?"

Jensen considers. In front of it, there are some fries. Jensen's picking at them, and there seem to be fewer sometimes, even if none ever get eaten. "About what?" it finally asks.

"Being deactivated."

Jensen considers. "Do you care that you're going to die?" it asks.

"Yeah," says Jared, not really sure how to respond. "I guess."

"And what are you doing to stop it?"

"Not being an idiot," Jared says. "Trying to eat kind of right, I guess." He looks down at his plate--greasy fries and a greasier burger. "Sometimes."

Jensen laughs at that, and it honestly--it shocks Jared. He hasn't seen Jensen laugh before, or even really smile. It's this shock of connection, this realization that Jensen is--kind of human. "Well, okay,"it--he says. "I guess that counts under avoiding unnecessary risks, or something." He waves his hand. "But it's not like--you're not doing that stuff because you think it'll keep you from ever dying, right? You still know you're going to die."

"It's not the same," Jared protests.

"No," Jensen agrees. "Because I'm not human. I'm a tool, and once I'm done with the job I'm supposed to do, my purpose is served." He shrugs. "What would I do with a life?"

"Become a lawyer, apparently," says Jared, trying to lighten the mood. He kind of wants to make Jensen laugh again.

"Not sure about that one," Jensen admits, shaking his head. "Look, it's not--this is how I was made, Jared. I don't have any of the things people are reluctant to leave behind. Family, friends--all I have is this job, and once it's done, that's all." He shrugs. "I don't know what else to tell you, man."

Jared leans back. "I just don't get it, I guess. Seems like a waste. Why get rid of a good detective?"

"They have all my information backed up," Jensen points out. "They use the same basic coding with some minor personality variations for all the special operatives," he says. "If they want me back, they can remake me."

Jared looks down, gut twisting a little. Jensen stares at him for a long, unnerving minute.

"I'm sorry I made you--uncomfortable," he finally says, like he's not sure that's actually what he did.

Jared smiles. "It's okay. I was just thinking--you're not actually that bad. For a robot."

Jensen laughs again, shaking his head. "What exactly is your point of comparison?" he asks. "I don't get the impression you spend a whole lot of time chatting with robots."

"I guess you're right," Jared admits. "Not as bad as I thought you would be, I guess."

"Well, thanks," says Jensen. "That means the world to me, Padalecki."

"Jared's fine," he says.

Jensen looks surprised, and then nods, once. "Okay. Jared."

Jared's not sure what to say, so he's glad when his phone chirps in his pocket, ending the long, awkward moment.

"Padalecki," he says.

"Detective? This is Sera Gamble. I have very good or very bad news."

"Oh?"

"The couple who Eric was going to represent--they've disappeared."

"Disappeared?"

"I can't get in touch with them. None of my calls are going through. No responses to e-mail. I had James go by their apartment, but there was no one home. According to their landlord, their door hasn't been opened since the 26th. They left no information with him."

"The 26th," says Jared. Jensen is looking interested across the table. Jared wonders if he can hear the conversation. "Convenient."

"I don't know if they're in hiding or--what," she says. "All I know is, I don't know where they are."

"Forward me all the information you have about them. We'll take if from here."

"Sent," says Gamble. "I also sent along any other names of interest I thought you might need."

"I appreciate it," says Jared. "We'll be in touch."

"They're gone," says Jensen, once he hangs up.

"They're gone," Jared agrees. He stretches. "What do you think?"

"I think I'd have to see the list to be sure they're out best lead, but it's a good place to start." He considers. "If she's a bot, her civilian chip should be able to track her. Assuming nothing happened to it and we can get access."

"I'm not sure that's a safe assumption in this case," Jared says. "But it's a good place to start."

*

Jensen can't entirely quantify how Jared has changed--he doesn't think that he's completely rethought his opinions on robots, or anything close to that.

But he's treating Jensen better, and it's something. He's more pleasant to work with. He doesn't seem to be hoping Jensen will die and leave him to work the case solo. Apparently the threat of actual imminent death (or something like it) is sufficient to make Jared rethink some things.

"How's the chip-search going?" Jared asks. They're in Jared's own living room, a fairly spacious area which Jensen would like to investigate. He hadn't been given much information about Jared--age, rank, family background, a brief summary of his education and professional experience--and he thinks Jared's apartment would help him learn more.

Not that learning about Jared is part of his job here.

"Working on it," he says, looking back down at the tablet. "It takes a little work to activate a chip."

"Why?" asks Jared.

"Privacy," says Jensen. "Civilian robots have certain rights. How would you feel if you knew the government could turn on a tracker and follow you wherever you went for no reason?"

"I'm not a robot," Jared points out.

"Robots like me look and act more human than any others," Jensen notes. "But civilian robots feel the most human. They believe they have rights." He looks up at Jared, who's making a face, and smirks. "I know," he says. "The nerve."

Jared flops down on the sofa. "So what are you doing?"

"Right now? Checking in with official records of her work. She's a personal assistant to an older gentleman--I'm seeing if I can reach anyone."

"Fascinating," says Jared, leaning back and closing his eyes.

"How are you a detective if you get bored this easily?" Jensen asks, sounding amused. "Didn't you do stakeouts?"

"Hate those too," says Jared.

"Well, good news, I guess," says Jensen. "Just got a hit back. Harris's employer says there was an emergency in Morgan's family and he and Harris took off."

"Morgan?"

"The would-be fiance."

"Wonderful," says Jared. "What does that mean? Can we track her?"

"Nope," says Jensen. "It actually explains a lot. If she'd left without telling anyone, her employer probably would have already activated her tracker. But we have no proof she's not exactly where she says she is."

Jared groans. "Can't we just turn it on because we suspect she's involved in a murder investigation?"

"Violation of rights," Jensen says, shaking his head. "Have you ever read any robotic law?"

"It's never come up." Jared yawns. "So what's the plan, exactly?"

"I'm going to find out where Morgan's family is, and what he told his boss he was doing."

"Morgan's the guy who wants to marry a robot, huh?" He shakes his head. "I just don't get it."

Jensen is spared answering, thankfully, by the sound of the door opening. Jared cracks one eye open, looking at the door as a pale-haired man comes in.

"Dude," says the man. "You didn't say you had a guy over. You're supposed to let me know so I vacate! The Chad is not a cockblock."

"It's not a guy," says Jared, and it makes something odd twinge in Jensen. "This is my new partner, the bot."

The man's eyes widen. "That's a bot? Shit, he's prettier than the bots that are selling themselves. What the hell's the point? I bet it doesn't even work."

"I'm right here," Jensen says mildly. "You can talk to me."

"Does it work?" the man asks.

"Does what work?"

"He wants to know if you're fully functional," says Jared. "As in--can you have sex."

Jensen blinks. "Why would I want to?"

"It's fun!" says the man. He pauses. "I mean, I guess it's fun for bots. They always said it was fun."

"They said it was fun because you programmed them to like whatever you were doing, you dumbass," says Jared. He looks at Jensen. "Jensen, this Chad, my roommate. Chad, stop asking Jensen about his sex life. We're working."

"Is it something awesome? Is there going to be a chase?"

"We're going to leave," says Jensen, shutting off his tablet.

"We are?" asks Jared, surprised.

"Morgan's boss corroborates the family emergency story--he says they took off for home, which is Seattle. I assume your 'port can get us there before morning?"

"Yeah," says Jared. "You want to leave now?"

"Unless you had other plans."

Jared shakes his head. "Nope. Lead the way."

*

Jared hates Chad.

Okay, not exactly, but--Chad had to mention Jensen was pretty.

Because Jensen is pretty. He's a bot, sure, but--he's an attractive one. He's kind of hot. If Jared saw him in a bar, he'd hit on him so fast.

But he's not a guy in a bar. He's Jared's partner, he's a bot, and he's going to get his mind wiped as soon as they finish this case. And Jared hadn't noticed he was--well, hot. And now that Chad's brought it up, he can't stop.

"What's the hurry, anyway?" Jared asks, sliding lower in his seat. It's getting late, so Jensen is driving. Jensen doesn't need sleep, exactly--he needs to recharge every few days. Jared is a little jealous.

"What do you mean?"

"Seattle could've waited for morning."

"What's the point?"

The point is another day for you, Jared thinks, but it doesn't seem like Jensen cares about that.

"Dunno. You're just in an awful rush for someone who's done as soon as this case is."

"That bugs you, huh," says Jensen.

"I just don't get it."

"I'm not human."

"So how come you guys care so much about being treated like you are?"

"It's not about being human," Jensen says. "I don't think. It's about--having our own lives. Our own choices."

"You don't think?" Jared repeats.

Jensen licks his lips, and that's more than a little distracting. "I wasn't exactly programmed to worry about this kind of thing," he points out. "I'm programmed to understand rights activists, not agree with them."

"You kind of do, though," Jared says.

"Not for me."

Jared yawns and leans back in his seat. "Well, whatever. I don't care," he says, wishing he meant it. "You mind if I go to sleep?"

"Go ahead. I hear humans need it."

Jared snorts. "Well, it's nice, anyway. Wake me up when we get to Seattle."

*

"They haven't done anything wrong," Jeff Morgan's mother says, firmly. "They didn't run here to try to be married or anything. My husband was sick, they came to help."

"Has he recovered?" Jared asks. His voice has a slight twang to it, one Jensen hasn't heard before. He wonders if it has a particular significance.

"Not completely," says the woman.

"And where is your son right now?"

"He and Danneel went shopping," she says. "Is that a crime?"

"Of course not," says Jensen, cutting Jared off before he can respond. "Ma'am, we're not here to arrest your son, or to bring him back to New York. We have a few questions regarding the murder of his lawyer."

The woman's eyes widen. "Murder? Of Mr. Kripke?"

"Did you know Mr. Kripke?" Jared asks, jumping back in.

"We'd spoken," says Mrs. Morgan. "He said in cases like these, it was good to make sure the whole family supported the couple, or else it came up in the court case."

"And you didn't know he was dead," says Jensen.

"No!"

"Everyone okay, mom?" asks a man, and Jensen turns to see a man and a woman coming up the walk with groceries.

"Jeffrey Dean Morgan?" Jared asks. "And Danneel Harris."

"That's us," the man agrees, a little warily. "Who wants to know?"

"I'm Detective Jared Padalecki, this is Special Operative Jensen Ackles," says Jared. "We're investigating the murder of Eric Kripke."

"Mr. Kripke is dead?" asks Harris. "When? How?"

"The day before you left," says Jared, and Jensen can see the color drain from Morgan's face.

"You don't--" says Morgan. "You can't possibly think we had anything to do with it."

"The timing is suspicious," says Harris, and Jensen has to smile.

"I'm glad you see it our way," he says.

"Not helping, honey," says Morgan, kissing Harris's hair. He looks at Jared. "I can assure you Detective, Special Operative--my father is ill. My mother needed help taking care of him. That was the only reason we left."

"We'd still like to ask you some questions," says Jared, voice giving nothing away. Jensen is impressed.

"Of course," says Morgan. "We have nothing to hide."

*

"Want to hear a freaky coincidence?" Jared asks. Jensen is sitting on his bed in the hotel, staring into space. It looks like he could use a break from his own thoughts.

"I doubt it's a coincidence," Jensen says. "I don't really believe in those. But do tell."

"Jeff Morgan's dad got sick almost the exact same time Kripke was murdered."

"We knew that," Jensen points out.

"No, like, to the hour," says Jared.

"Well," says Jensen. "Considering I'm pretty sure Harris killed Kripke, I can't exactly say I'm surprised."

Jared turns so fast he nearly falls over. "What?"

"I asked her some of the test questions from the Asimov test. She didn't answer correctly. Worse than that, she didn't notice she didn't answer correctly."

"What does that mean?" Jared asks.

"Pretty deep reprogramming. Morgan didn't mention she'd been acting strange, did he?"

"No," says Jared. "You didn't think to mention this earlier?"

"I'm trying to decide what we should do about it."

"Take her in?" Jared suggests.

"She was a tool, Jared," Jensen says, more sternly than he had expected. "She didn't plan this anymore than your 'port planned to bring us to Seattle."

"So you just let her go?"

"For now," he says. At Jared's look, his expression softens a little. "I'm not saying I'm releasing her forever, but I couldn't exactly consult you as soon as I figured it out, could I?" He runs his hand through his hair. "I'm not saying we can't take her in. I'm not even saying we shouldn't. But someone powerful fucked with her, and I want to know who and how. This person is a danger to all robots."

Jensen looks upset, and Jared wonders if he really is. If it's possible Jensen's personality chip is somehow so advanced that he really care feel something like--well, anything.

"That's why you're on this case, isn't it," Jared says, softly.

"What?" asks Jensen.

"Because you're invested."

Jensen shrugs. "Robots get put on robot-related crime. We understand things humans sometimes can't."

"And you want to go after whoever did this."

"Yeah." Jensen leans back, closing his eyes. "We're going to need to convince her and Morgan to agree to it."

"To what?"

"To me rooting around in her head to see what happened to it."

"You can do that?" Jared asks, shocked.

Jensen shrugs. "I can try, anyway. It's in my programming. If she says it's okay, I can interface with her."

"Interface, huh? Sounds hot."

Jensen just looks confused.

"Innuendo is lost on you," says Jared, sighing.

"What a shame," Jensen says dryly. "Are all humans this obsessed with intimacy, or is that just you and your questionable friends?"

"It's kind of a big deal," says Jared. He licks his lips, suddenly unbearably curious. "You do--you have one, right?"

"Just say penis," Jensen says, rolling his eyes. "Yes, I do."

"Why?"

"I don't know," Jensen says irritably. "Why does it matter? Why wouldn't I?"

"Well, you're not going to use it, right?"

"Maybe I'd need to get naked under cover. Maybe they assume I'll get so curious about everyone talking about it and want to try it. I don't know. Why are we talking about this instead of figuring out what to do about the murder case?"

Jared sighs. "So, you want me to talk them into letting you--reprogram her?"

"Fix her," says Jensen. "See what happened." He licks his lips. "It would help if we could promise her she'd be spared."

"Can we promise that? How sure are you it wasn't her fault? How good is this test thing?"

"It's official government protocol," says Jensen. He shrugs. "I don't know what else to tell you."

Jared considers for a long minute, trying to figure out what to say. "It's hard to trust someone who doesn't have his own mind, you know."

"Is it hard to trust the people who programmed me?" Jensen asks. "They're your superiors."

"Yeah, well, I've never been great with authority figures." He stretches. "Okay. It's too late for tonight, but--tomorrow, yeah?"

Jensen nods. "Tomorrow."

*

Jensen's phone rings at 2 in the morning. Jared's asleep, sprawled over his covers. He's mostly naked, which Jensen finds--curious. He knew what human beings looked like without clothing--it was knowledge his programmers deemed necessary--but seeing Jared like that is different. He's wearing nothing but a small pair of shorts, and Jensen keeps getting torn away from his work by the width of his back and the length of his legs.

He's relieved for the distraction the phone provides.

"Ackles."

"Special Operative Ackles? It's Jeff Morgan. Did you take Danneel?"

"What?" asks Jensen, sitting bolt upright. "No. When was the last time you saw her?"

"She never came back from your interview."

"Shit," says Jensen, rubbing his face. He reaches over and shakes Jared, momentarily shocked by the feel of his bare skin, covered in a light sheen of sweat. It's an unexpected sensation.

"Wha?" asks Jared.

"Harris is missing. She never came back from meeting me."

"What?" asks Jared. "What happened?"

"Mr. Morgan, can I have permission to activate Danneel's tracker?"

"Yes, of course. Do you--do you think it has anything to do with Eric's murder?"

"I suspect it does," he admits. "Had you noticed her acting oddly in any way? Any other times when she disappeared?"

"I don't keep track of her every moment of every day. You can't honestly--"

"I don't think Ms. Harris is responsible for Mr. Kripke's death. But I think she'll be able to help us find out who is."

He hears Morgan sigh. "Please let me know when you've found her. I don't know what I'd do if I lost her."

Jensen feels achy, and he's not sure why. "We will," he says. "I'll need you to send the approval for the tracker in."

"Of course. Thank you, Special Operative."

"Good night, Mr. Morgan."

"We're getting the tracker?" Jared asks.

"We're getting the tracker." He rubs his face again. "Anyone with half a brain will have disabled it or removed it."

"That's possible?" Jared says, making a face.

"Not easily. But--we should be ready for a lot more work." He looks down, biting his lip. "I'm sorry. I screwed up. I should have realized--there's some deep programming in there. I hope we can get her back." He closes his eyes. "I think Morgan really loves her."

Jared is quiet for a long time. "Didn't figure you for a soft touch, Ackles," he finally says. He sounds oddly--impressed. Jensen opens his eyes to try to read his face, but whatever it's doing wasn't deemed important enough that he's able to put it together it from his emotional recognition files.

"It's not their fault," he says. "They seem happy. They should be left alone." He gets up and grabs his tablet, waiting for the confirmation of the tracker. "I wouldn't expect you to understand."

"Why not?" asks Jared. He sounds a little affronted.

"Because she's a robot."

"Oh," says Jared. "Yeah, I mean--I don't get that, I guess. But I don't really have to." He sighs. "I--"

"Save it," says Jensen, secretly relieved to not have to hear whatever Jared was going to say. "We've got a hit on the tracker. Let's go."

*

Danneel is in Ohio and still moving, which Jensen seems to think is a good thing.

"If it was staying still, we'd have to worry it had been thrown away," he explains.

"Maybe it's attached to some random 'port," Jared shoots back.

"Possible. Or we could be optimistic."

"Do bots have an optimism switch?"

"It's less a switch, more a state of mind."

Jared yawns. "How sure are you Morgan isn't involved?"

"He could be involved, I guess, but I'm positive he's not the programmer."

"Why?"

"The level of knowledge needed for this kind of operation isn't something that could be easily hidden. Morgan's an elementary school teacher. He doesn't have any kind of specialized background in the robotics field."

Jared makes a face. "That guy's an elementary school teacher?"

"What's the problem?"

Jared realizes he maybe shouldn't have said that. "I'm just not sure someone with his--beliefs should be influencing children."

"You're surprisingly closed-minded about this, given your age and socio-economic status," says Jensen. "Most people in your demographic are more open-minded." Jared can practically see him thinking. "Are you from the south?"

"Texas," Jared says, a little warily.

Jensen nods. "Traditionally parts of the south have been slower to accept--"

"Just don't, okay?" Jared snaps, more irritable than he expected. "I'm trying. I really am. Just leave it alone." He pauses. "Where's your tablet?"

Jensen frowns, clearly confused by the subject change. "Did I offend you?"

"A little. But I've offended you before, including just now, so we're pretty even." Jared smiles. "The tablet has nothing to do with that. I want to check something."

"What?"

"Just a hunch."

Jensen shrugs, fishing out the tablet and handing it over. "You don't want to explain?" he asks.

"Not yet," says Jared.

It takes almost no time for Jared to find what he thinks might be the answer to their problem, and he's about to tell Jensen, but then Jensen catches his eye, and smiles, and Jared realizes--if he's right, that's it. They'll go, and make this arrest, and that will be the end of it.

Jensen will be gone.

"What's up?" Jensen asks.

Jared opens his mouth and closes it again. "I--not sure."

"Your hunch work out?"

Jared rubs the back of his neck. "Still working on it," he says. "How are we doing on the tracker?"

"Getting closer," says Jensen. "We're moving faster than it is, so we'll catch up soon." He smiles, softer than Jared's seen before. "You should get some more sleep."

Jared sighs, settling back into the seat. "Yeah," he says. "Sure."

*

Jared's acting weird.

Jensen can't place exactly what it is--he's not good enough at reading him yet. He'd need more time. He thinks it would take a lifetime to figure out every expression Jared has.

A human lifetime, that is. Whatever he has left--that's a lifetime too.

They hit the tracker in some no-name city in Virginia, and Jensen feels his optimism switch off as he sees a train pass, the tracker following its path.

"Either she's on that train, or the tracker is."

"You think she isn't there," Jared says.

Jensen shakes his head. "It's not a passenger train, and I doubt if she's alive she's on there. It's not good news, no matter what."

"We can stop the train," Jared offers. "Do a search."

Jensen rubs his face and nods. "We should. I don't have much by way of--further leads," he admits. "We have a disappeared girl, and a lot of questions, and--nothing."

Jared coughs. "We'll get a team search the train," he says. "But--I have a lead."

Jensen stares. "You have a lead?"

"I do."

"And you didn't think to mention this."

Jared glares, the sudden ferocity of it shocking to Jensen. "Do you know what happens if I solve this case, Jensen? Do you get it? I solve this case and I kill you. How am I supposed to be okay with that?"

Jensen takes a second, trying to process where Jared got that. "Jared, that's not--it's not like that."

"How is it not like that?"

"You're trying not to solve a crime so that I'll--what? Not fulfill my entire purpose?"

"Your purpose sucks!"

"You don't even like me in the first place," Jensen points out.

"That doesn't mean I want you dead. Shit, Jensen."

Jared's breathing heavily, looking at Jensen like he doesn't know what to do, like his brain is too full of things, and Jensen still can't read his face. Why is it getting harder to do that? Shouldn't it be easier as he stores more data, finds more things, gets--

And then, suddenly, Jared's hands are on his chest, and Jensen is scrambling to think of a way to push him off without hurting him, but that's not what's happening--Jared is hauling him in, pulling him close, and suddenly they're kissing, wet and hot and completely foreign.

Jared is making all these noises, desperate and angry, and Jensen feels like he's overloading, like there's too much in the world for him to process.

He feels like something in him has broken.

Jared pulls back, breathing hard, eyes wild.

"You can't just go," he says.

Jensen licks his lips, cataloging the different texture Jared's left on them.

"Jared--" Jensen starts. He pauses, tries again. "What have you got? Your lead."

Jared runs his hand through his hair, taking a few deep breaths. "I--the guy Harris worked for. You got me thinking, when you said that most people my age weren't--weird. About bots." He sighs. "So I thought maybe it was someone--older." He opens up the tablet and finds a bio. "Jim Beaver. He was a hacker back in the day--nothing for a few decades since then, but he'd have the skills to pull it off."

"You think he hacked his own assistant?" Jensen asks, scanning over the tablet.

"He spoke out against increasingly realistic robotic technology back in the twenties and thirties," says Jared, pointing to a place. "Wrote a lot of papers, was vocal about it. Dropped off the radar for a while--did minor net stuff, tablets, pretty much everything but robotics."

"Probably wouldn't like someone like Kripke," Jensen agrees.

"According to the employment records, she got hired a few weeks after their first big case."

Jensen bites his lip. "Shit."

"Shit what?"

"I just--" he rubs his face. "I hope that Beaver didn't orchestrate everything."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean--I hope he didn't arrange the relationship between her and Morgan just to--get Kripke killed."

Jared smiles, although Jensen can't quite figure out why. "Nah. They've been together for five years. She's only been working for Beaver for two. My best guess is he wasn't actually hiring her just for that, but--he heard about the marriage, got upset."

"Hacked her, set her on Kripke, and now--"

"And now we have to get over there," Jared says, smile fading away.

Jensen swallows, hard. "We're catching a murderer," he reminds Jared. "That's a lot more important than what happens to me."

Jared shrugs, almost helplessly. "It should be."

*

Jared fidgets all the way back to New York, feeling too big for his own skin.

He kissed Jensen.

He kissed a bot, a bot he barely knows, who may or may not cease to exist in the next 24 hours, if Jared is as good a detective as he knows he is.

Jensen doesn't look particularly conflicted. He doesn't look like he's reevaluating whether or not he should do this. He's calm, and focused, and Jared wants to hit him a litttle.

"How long to New York?" he asks.

"Another hour," says Jensen. "You can get some sleep if you want."

"I couldn't," says Jared. He licks his lips. "What's the plan?"

"The plan?"

"Once we get there."

"Well, either he's there, or he's not there," says Jensen, with maddening serenity. "If he's there, we attempt to be diplomatic, and if that fails, we take him down--or you do. I'm obviously not great a physical restraint. If he's not there, we search the house for evidence. Hopefully enough that we can justify putting out a warrant for him." He looks over at Jared, frowning. "I think I understand why you did it, but--I'm going to have to report you for delaying our capture of the suspect."

"Great," says Jared. "This day just keeps getting better."

Jensen looks away from him, back out to the road. "It was the heat of the moment," he says, softly. "I understand that sometimes, when emotions run high, humans have--unpredictable reactions."

It takes a minute for Jared to realize the undercurrent of what Jensen is saying: you didn't mean to kiss me, you don't want me. It's written all over his face--a language even robots know.

Jared feels something fluttering wildly in his chest.

"That wasn't why," he says.

He sees Jensen's eyes widen, just a little. "Oh," says Jensen, voice steady as always. He doesn't have the metallic echo of some robots, and he can get emotions--make his voice angry, or happy--but variations like breathlessness, or rasping, or tremulous hope, those are still being developed. "Then I guess I don't understand."

Jared smiles, soft and slow. Can't help it. "Because I wanted to. Duh."

Jensen glances over, smiles back like he can't help it either. "Oh," he says again. "I guess I do understand."

*

Beaver's house is empty, or so Jensen thinks. Jared goes up, finds the computers and the enough technology to make Jensen sure he could hack almost any civilian bot--it makes his insides turn over, nervousness he can't quite process. He's staggered by how little power they have to resist someone like that.

He wants to destroy it all, but it's evidence, of course, and he doesn't. It would cause harm to something, to someone.

"I'll call it in," Jared says, reluctantly. He looks at Jensen. "It's not really solved until he's found, right?"

"I don't think so," Jensen says, although he doesn't know the protocol for that. He hears a slight, soft noise, whirls his head. "Did you hear that?"

"No. Hear what?"

Jensen closes his eyes, shuts down the sensors in his hands and nose. He understands that humans do this too, without meaning to. Not having one sense will strengthen the others. They just can't turn them on and off.

He puts everything he has into his ears, and there is is again, a faint thump.

"Below," he says, and he and Jared go down cautiously, quietly, into the basement, Jared in front with his gun.

It's empty except for Harris, tied and gagged, her hand, the one with the tracker in it, gone. The team might find it on the train, Jensen supposes. They might be able to reattach the same one.

Her eyes widen when she sees them, and Jensen hears the sound, louder--her foot hitting the wall.

"He left you," he says, as he unties and ungags her. He finds himself hoping that she knows who she is--what if she's been wiped? But then she wouldn't kick.

"I don't know--where I am. Or--I can't remember anything for days. Where's Jeff? I'm--I don't know where I am."

Jensen smiles a little. "Jeff's in Seattle," he says, softly. "But I think he'll be back here as soon as he can."

*

Jared stays with Danneel while Jensen goes up to talk to the computers and see what he can find about Beaver's plans or whereabouts. He comes back down once a real team arrives, sitting down on Danneel's other side.

"We can prove he made you do it." He glances at Jared. "Hell, we can even prove he hacked one of Morgan's dad's robots, made it put something in his food. Didn't even have to get rid of the Asimovs--the robot had no idea it was poison he was giving his master."

Danneel looks over at Jensen, clearly stuck. She seems to be moving sluggishly--Jared wonders if Beaver did something more to her. "What did I do?"

Jensen licks his lips. "You killed someone."

"I couldn't," says Danneel, shaking her head. "I couldn't, how could I--"

"He made you," says Jensen, putting his arm around her shoulders. "It's not your fault. You could never harm anyone."

Jared looks up at that. "Never?" he asks.

Jensen looks confused. "Asimov, remember?"

Two police officers are coming down the stairs before Jared can respond--Alba and Collins. He stands to meet them.

"This is the perp?" asks Alba.

Jared looks down at Danneel. "No," he says. "This is the murder weapon."

*

Morgan shows up in a matter of hours and Harris is released into his custody, with a police guard outside their apartment to make sure Harris doesn't try to escape. Jensen thinks it makes them feel safer, knowing no one can get in. He watches with a lump in his throat as Morgan cradles Harris close, holding the stump of arm where her hand was like he thinks it hurts. Like she can feel it.

"The Beaver search is set up," says Jared. He glances around. "And you can't be deactivated."

"Now isn't the time," Jensen says, although he thinks it might be. Maybe it's solved enough. Maybe--

He licks his lips, looks up at Jared. "Or, I guess--well, what were you going to say?"

"Do you need to wet your lips?" Jared asks, and Jensen doesn't think that was where he planned for this conversation to go.

Jensen blinks. "No," he says. "I saw you do it."

Jared nods, runs his hand through his hair. "Asimov," he says.

"What?"

"A robot may not knowingly injure a human being," he says. "Or through inaction allow a human being to come to harm. Right? I read it on your tablet."

"First law," Jensen agrees.

"So you can't just do nothing and let them turn you off," says Jared. "Because that would hurt me." He smiles, but his eyes match Jensen's recognition for sadness. It's a strange expression; it makes Jensen ache. "I'd never recover."

"I couldn't be government," says Jensen, slowly. He believes Jared, and he's not even sure why. Or maybe he's just been hoping for an out like this. "They'd give me a chip. I'd need--something else."

"Well," says Jared. "I hear I'm getting reported for misconduct in this case." He grins. "And I totally deserve it. But--I was thinking I could go freelance, you know? This government stuff isn't really for me."

Jensen raises his eyebrow. "And you want a partner."

Jared grins, his whole face bright. "Sometimes things work out, you know?"

"So I've been told."

*

Epilogue: One Week Later


"They found Beaver," says Jared.

Jensen looks up. "Really?"

"It's all over the news. Whatever they found on his computers was bad--a lot of robots who've been found guilty of crimes seem to have been reprogrammed just like Danneel. It's raising questions about what we can and can't try bots for, I guess. Sera says she has her hands full between Danneel and all her other cases, but she's happy. She says they're going to change the world." He gives Jensen a hard look. "She's still taking care of you, right?"

"I switched to Kristin," Jensen admits, trying out a new smirk. A little higher on the left than the last one. If he's going to have this face for a while, he wants to make it feel more like--him. "Robot pride."

Jared rolls his eyes. "Is she good? Remember, if you lose this--"

"I ruin your life," Jensen agrees. "I think my case for my own agency is stronger if my defender is the precedent for ruling in my favor." He pauses. "You realize two weeks ago you hated everything about me, right?"

"I realize," says Jared. "I was ignorant. I was foolish. You've changed me for the better." He claps his hand over his heart with a smile Jensen wants to remember forever. Which, of course, he can.

"You're an asshole," he says, instead of sharing this.

"Ouch. That was harm! You harmed me! Asimov is rolling in his grave."

Jensen rolls his eyes and pokes Jared in the chest. Hard. "You'll live."

Jared grins. "Somehow," he agrees. He leans back. "Jeff asked me to be his best man, you know."

"Really?"

"Apparently most of his friends don't really get it. He finds me sympathetic."

"He must be the only one."

"Wounded!"

Jensen laughs. "Seriously. Ass. Hole."

"Whatever. What do you think of A Boy and His Robot for the name of a PI firm?"

"Terrible." Jensen looks down, a little--embarrassed. He thinks. Self-conscious, maybe. That's probably how he feels. "I was thinking The First Law."

Jared's silent for a long minute. "Wow," he finally says. "That's so sappy. I didn't know robots could be sappy. I'm impressed!" He grins and leans over to kiss Jensen. "But it's kind of awesome too."

Jensen shakes his head. "You are the worst person I have ever met."

"Yeah," Jared agrees easily. "But you're only two weeks old. You have tons of time to meet way worse people."

Jensen snorts. "Looking forward to it," he says, but--he means it.

It's going to be fun.