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Rain hammered against the darkened windows of the LAPD building. You were working late and thought you might be the last person on this floor; you hadn’t seen or heard anyone else in over an hour. You leaned back in your chair as you stretched your arms over your head, then stood and headed to the break room to refill your coffee mug. Your path led you past the door to one of the exit stairwells that dotted each floor per building code but were hardly ever used. You wouldn’t have even spared this one a thought had you not heard a mild clatter emanate from behind it. You stopped, listening. It must have come from somewhere below, as it hadn’t sounded like it had been made right on the other side. There was a faint curse, then: “Pick that up.” You moved closer to the door. “Pretty and obedient, huh? I should find a way to take you home next time…” 

Alarm bells rang in your head and you dropped your empty mug before bursting through the door. You immediately looked down and saw two men on the landing one flight below, one kneeling in front of the other. The man on his feet raised his head as your eyes adjusted to the ill-lit space. “What the hell is going on?” you barked, putting as much force behind the words as possible. They echoed loudly off the concrete walls. 

The man recovered quickly from his surprise and you were shocked when he grinned at you. “It’s alright,” he breezed, half-waving. His belt was undone. “It’s a skinner, it has to do what I say.” You looked at the man on his knees, who hadn’t reacted to your presence at all. His head was bowed and his shoulders were pulled tight with tension. You realized you must have caught them right before things would’ve gotten a whole lot worse. Anger roared through you, but years of operating in high-stress situations gave you an avenue to think fast enough to keep it from showing. 

“Is it ours?” you asked, descending the stairs. 

“Yeah,” the man supplied. He prodded the replicant’s cheek, who gave no response. “It’s one of the blade runner units. Don’t worry, it’s off-duty.” 

The man held your gaze confidently, certain he was doing nothing wrong. His arrogance - among other things - made you want to put a hole in his head. Your feet came to rest on the landing. “I don’t much care what it’s supposed to be doing,” you began coldly. Your gut twisted at having to disregard the personhood of the victim in this situation, but the alternative would be far too dangerous. Replicants were unfeeling tools to most people and you could not afford to reveal you thought differently, especially right now. “My concern is your flagrant disregard for equipment management. This is not a sanctioned use of this model, and I have a hard time believing you aren’t aware of that.” Your eyes flicked to the name on his breast pocket. “Officer Sharpe, is it?” 

Sharpe’s eyes narrowed. “So what? I couldn’t break it if I tried.” 

You had to take a steadying breath. “You do know how replicants work, don’t you? Blade runners aren’t programmed for sexual recreation, so you sticking your dick down its throat would dysregulate it and render it unable to perform its function.” You took a step closer. “How would you like to explain to your captain that you were responsible for the loss of one of our units because you couldn’t keep it in your goddamn pants?” You glared at him, letting the silence work. You could see the wheels turning behind his eyes. 

“Fine, Jesus,” he eventually grumbled. He redid his belt. 

You touched the replicant’s shoulder. “Get up.” He stood to his full height and avoided your eyes. Sharpe tried to leave but you blocked his escape. “I didn’t dismiss you, officer.” You felt satisfaction as uncertainty flickered across his face. You knew he’d seen your lieutenant bar. He stayed where he was, trying to grasp the tattered edges of his dignity by rolling his eyes. You could’ve had him on insubordination for that alone, but you had other priorities at the moment. “This never happens again,” you said quietly. “Understood?” 

Sharpe’s jaw worked. He glared at you, but the fight had gone out of him. “Yes, sir.” You stood aside and watched him go, hurrying up the stairs while trying to make it look like he wasn’t. Once the stairwell door slammed behind him, you turned back to the replicant. Your heart broke a little when you saw that his hands were shaking.

“Are you alright?” you asked. The man angled his face away from you in a manner terribly reminiscent of that of a beaten animal. You berated yourself for the stupidity of the question. He likely thought very little of your concern, given that you’d been calling him “it” during your confrontation with Sharpe. You wanted him to trust you, but this wasn’t about you right now. “Come on,” you tried gently. “Let’s go upstairs.” You started back the way you came, and after a second heard him following behind you. 

*** 

The rain continued its steady beat outside as you and the replicant sat in the break room, him occupying one of the tables and you sitting on the counter of the kitchenette. You’d been mindful not to put yourself between him and the door so he wouldn't feel like you were caging him in. “You can go whenever you want,” you’d explained as you’d led him inside. “I’m not keeping you here.” He hadn't seemed to hear you, retreating to a table and sitting there numbly for the last ten minutes. He’d blinked maybe twice that entire time. It seemed to you like he was in shock and you didn't know how to bring him out of it. You had been giving him space, but maybe he needed you to talk to him. 

“What’s your name?” His eyes lowered reflexively at the sound of your voice. You could see his throat working. Several seconds passed before he answered, and even then you could barely hear him. 

“KD6-3.7.” 

So this was K. You’d only been here two weeks since your transfer and there were plenty of people you hadn’t met yet. Not that your colleagues would consider replicants people, but K had a formidable reputation and you’d recently overheard a couple of officers speculating about if he drank the blood of the skinjobs he retired. You offered your name, which was ignored. 

“Coffee?” you ventured. K sat up a little at that, probably out of surprise, but you willfully misinterpreted it as interest and slid off the counter to get him a cup. You put it on the tabletop in front of him and he accepted it slowly, wrapping his large hands around the warm ceramic. 

“Thank you,” he said quietly, staring unseeingly at some point on the ground past the edge of the table. You had been watching him carefully and he hadn’t locked up when you came near, so you stayed. 

“You’re not an object,” you said, failing at last to keep the venom out of your voice. “That shit I said back there about you being equipment wasn't true. You don’t deserve to be used like that because you’re just as much of a person as I am.” K went very still. “I just wanted you to know that,” you finished. For some unfathomable reason you felt embarrassed. An idea came to you. “I’ll be right back.” 

You exited the break room and raided the supply locker, quickly locating what you were looking for. You came back to find K exactly where you’d left him. He gave no acknowledgement of your return. You placed the item you’d retrieved on the table and K glanced at it. It was similar in form to a wrist watch, but instead of a face there was a hard rubberized tab that could be toggled up, which would then allow the tab to be rotated into a horizontal position, a two-step system that virtually prevented it from being activated accidentally. 

“It’s a panic button,” you explained. The device had a real name, but that’s what everyone called it. You weren’t sure if he would have used one before, so you went over how to power it on and activate it. “I’ll tune it to my receiver, and if anything like that happens again, use it and I’ll come running, or I’ll send one of my sergeants if I can't.” K regarded the device as if measuring whether or not it would bite him. “Look, you don’t have to take it,” you said, suddenly feeling tired. You moved to pick it up. 

“Wait.”

You stopped. K took the panic button and strapped it to his wrist before flicking it on. You pulled out your receiver and paired the devices, and you were unprepared for how intimate the action felt. Heat prickled at the back of your neck. K studied the panic button for a moment, then looked at you for the first time. “I hope you never have to use it,” you said. 

He set his gaze forward out the window and drank some of his coffee. “Are you okay here on your own?” you asked. “I was thinking of heading home.” 

“I’m alright, lieutenant,” K said, and for the first time since you'd met him, he seemed like he was. 

You smiled a little. “Get home safely, K.” K paused, and you wondered if anyone had ever told him that before. He looked at you again and gave you the faintest of smiles. Later, alone and warm in your bed, you thought about that smile and decided you wouldn’t mind seeing it again.