One ( 1 ) package has been left on Gavin's desk containing a plushie that's half banana and half cat. The side of said package has a small note attached with just his name in block letters and a small message ( 'remembered you have cats' and then under 'thought you'd like it' ), obviously the work of an android.
The sight of a package on his desk is at first a sincere concern. Usually if anything was left for him, it was open faced, obvious, something that he knows what he’s getting into, how he’s getting into it, etcetera. It was never left up to the imagination, and what did his imagination go to immediately when he saw a package? Like that? On his desk? Unopened? Unmarked? Bomb. That was the first immediate thought. His palms were sweating instantly. If it wasn’t a bomb, maybe it was anthrax, or was that too outdated? If not that, maybe it was a prank, like a glitter bomb or an ink bomb. He had done that to Hank once before, though it was a rig in his desk that he’d worked on overnight one shift when Fowler was out. What else could it be? A finger, maybe. Or a hand. A severed body part of some kind. That didn’t only happen in the movies you know, he had a buddy on the NYPD, an old DPD rookie that had kicked it with him for a couple years and moved, told him all about this fucking severed human ear AND tongue that had been delivered in an unassuming unmarked package. What were the options so far? His forefinger twitched, scraping and picking at dried, cracked cuticles. There was a stinging there, probably tore it open again. He’d chew on the skin later, make the bed of his nail bleed, same old, but for now it was an itch that he could scratch. Something to keep his thought steady as his paranoia ducked through more options. Bomb options A, B and C. Severed limb. Dead animal? Mobster style, not a horse head it’s too small and that’s definitely got to be a movie thing – plus he was pretty sure he hadn’t pissed off any mobsters – At least not recently. What else could it be? A prank maybe. Like those free boxes of condoms, or pamphlets or hygiene products you could order samples of for free. He’s gotten those before. Big old box of tampons. Thanks Hank. The longer he thinks, the longer he scrapes his nail through his cuticles, he comes to realize – There’s a sticky note on the side. There’s only a part of him that calms at that. Usually sticky notes were Hank’s shtick, so it could definitely be a prank… So as he finally approached, swiping that note off to squint at it with a look of skepticism – He realized. “God damn android – The fuck’d he do?” That was enough for him to know that all of the above options were slashed – but then what? Picking the box up off the desk, he noted how – Light it was. Tossing it easily from hand to hand, he held it up to his ear and gave it a good rattle. Whatever it was, it was soft… Something to do with cats?
Plopping down into his seat and scooting closer to the desk, he half hid the box beneath it as he peeled it open and peered inside – Only to find that he may have preferred a severed tongue to the garishly cute and very likely japanese banana-cat mascot that was within. With a quick, paranoid glance around at those who might be nearby, he flipped over the tag. “Bananya… Where the fuck– Why?”
But damn if it wasn’t soft… “… Hm.” Nose scrunching, a scowl crossed his features, and in a sneaky attempt, he did up his jacket – And stuffed the plush inside, before zipping over top of it. “You’ll be safe in there for now, li’l guy.” A grumbled tone to the toy with a snort, before he set about breaking down that box and shoving it in his waste bin. Casually there after, he stood, and made his way lazily to the locker room. He’d tuck that bananacat away in his backpack, take it home, smudge might like to snuggle up to it while he was away at night. And he wouldn’t say thank you, but – Maybe he’d be a little… Lighter on the android come their next arrangement.
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