"Good evening, ladies, gentlemen, and everything in between. Welcome to Detroit's premiere android auctionhouse." The voice was distorted like the rest had been, but only you would have known that. LED blinking red, the communication with Connor had stopped when they'd gotten close. This was their plan, at least; it had been eleven minutes since the RK800 had said anything more, which meant you were left alone to stall the auction for as long as possible.

The speaker knelt beside you, taking your jaw with a rough grasp and forcing you to look at the shell mask. Thirium trickled from your nose, and despite the fear you held their stare.

"Brave one, aren't you? Cute. You might last long enough to entertain our guests," the distorted module added. "Well, folks, we've got a real treat for you tonight. What I have in my company here is the most expensive prototype ever made, and boy is she high-maintenance." The human stood up and went behind you, taking your head in both hands so you were forced to face the camera. "This pretty girl right here belongs to the city's bravest! That's right, folks; this RG900 is a detective! But not only that, she was customized down to the smallest detail."

You said nothing; you'd been warned not to. But you sat on your knees in front of a video camera, the small red light the only indication that it was on. Blocks away, scared for your sake, Elijah Kamski sat at his laptop, watching for anything the others might need to know.

"Now, ladies and gentlemen, there is one final detail about this metal Barbie you should know: The customization was done for one specific person. Long story short, her starting price has skyrocketed. So if you can't afford this useless waste of plastic, you may want to reconsider."

Beside the camera was a computer setup, the large monitor showing the live chat feed. Your captor mostly spoke to the camera but checked the chat messages frequently.

Such as now, when one person asked for a demo of a more unique software. As proof that you really were that fucking expensive.

"Now, now, before we get into the fun stuff, I can show you that this one is expensive. Simply by her serial number." The hands clutching your head let go; the relief never came, as your black blouse was torn open instead, to show the tattoo on your skin. "Not just a unique number, but on the skin. An android tattoo, you might say. But, since this one is a particular date..." Hands lowered onto your shoulders, squeezing painfully. "We will be happy to alter or remove the tattoo as needed to the highest bidder."

Two curious things happened in the same moment, which couldn't have been a mere coincidence: Connor messaged you once, in Italian, requesting some sign as to your precise location. Raise an alarm, so to speak. At the same time, one viewer's request seemed both vague and terribly specific: Can she dance? If she can't dance I want no fuckin' part of this.

Your captor laughed in that awful, warbling voice. "Dance? Androids can't dance, they aren't even built to hear music."

"--I can hear music," you interrupted quickly. "I rather enjoy it, as well; there are songs I have saved in my files that I listen to recreationally. Shall I play one?"

The kidnapper seemed too baffled to stop you at first, despite being told not to speak. And if Connor needed an alarm to both pin your location and startle the auctioneers...

_____

All of them were spread throughout the warehouse. But typically, warehouses were mostly an open space, just one very large room. But this one was a fucking maze of boxes and shelving and side offices.

Even with the auction going on, no one could hear a thing from it. It might not have been loud to begin with.

Every single guard inside had been subdued. The ones Gavin got his hands on had their neck snapped; the rest were at least still alive. Beside him, since Hank insisted they not go solo, Reed had both androids as backup. Ralph could have snapped a guard's spine in half, but seemed surprisingly focused. Connor was still communicating with you, one hand at his LED. "I have asked for something audible to inform us of her exact place," he murmured. "Hopefully it will--"

When he'd asked for an alarm, it was vague. Up to you to use whatever you had available to alert them. The waltz music that damn near deafened everyone inside was certainly enough to create an alarm, yet Reed was the only one that took it to heart. Playing the music he'd taught you to dance to wasn't a mistake.

Having been stationed behind a wall, peering deeper into the warehouse from around the corner, Gavin's eyes narrowed. How long the waltz would play for, he didn't know, but as long as it played the bastards were distracted from his approach.

_____

Promptly shoved to the floor, your head was pinned with the auctioneer's heavy boot. "Think you're being clever? Sneaky? We're not blind; you have backup coming. Your pretty music won't help them, now shut it off." Leaning towards you, the weight on your skull pressed further. "I don't think Detective Reed will appreciate watching you shut down again, you rusty cunt."

The shot barely missed the top of the bastard's head, but the next few shots destroyed the camera and computer setup, killing the live feed and therefore the auction. Hopefully for good.

Barrel of his weapon pressed to the side of the masked auctioneer's skull, Gavin's upper lip curled back. "If you know what's good for you, take your goddamn foot off of her and put your hands up." Behind him, and all around, the rest of the officers had their weapons drawn and aimed directly at the kidnapper.

Behind the mask, the stranger began to chuckle. The foot was removed from your head, and Connor moved forward to get you to your feet and away from the auctioneer. Hands raising at an agonizingly slow pace, they just continued to laugh.

Even when one hand took hold of the android shell faceplate and removed it, the man who had programmed you laughed. "Not sure what you find so fucking funny, but you can put your hands on your goddamn head," your boyfriend spat. "Every single one of your guards are down for the count. And you've got some reeeeaaaaally pissed off people holding firearms, buddy."

"Guards? Oh, my decoys. Taken care of, good to know." Hands on his head, your programmer turned his gaze towards you, supported by the RK800. Then he looked back to Reed. "The benefit of working so closely with androids is knowing how to add or remove things quickly. Files, algorithms, software... voice commands."

Voice comma--

--NO

Gavin roared, sending the butt end of his weapon to the bastard's head, just after the programmer opened his mouth:

"Initiate countdown."

Your LED was a solid red as you spoke against your will, a slow countdown from 60. Tears began to stream down your cheeks as your human came close, trying to get you to say anything aside from the numbers. "Cara mia, c-come on, there's gotta... oh fuck, oh my god, no, don't... don't you fucking self-destruct on me!!"

"Not.... 38..... n-not me.... I won't-- 37..."

"EVERYBODY OUT!!!" came Connor's demand. The usually-gentle voice was sharp and commanding. "IT'S NOT HER, THE EXPLOSIVES ARE ACTIVE!!"

The front doors weren't far, blocked by two chairs which were swiftly obliterated since Ralph was in front. A swarm of geared officers headed for the exit, no one able to hear your countdown and too afraid to know how much time remained anyway.

Reed had hurriedly scooped you up himself, nearly blinded by his panic as he carried you behind Connor and Hank.

The programmer was more intelligent than they'd given him credit for, but also far more vindictive. He'd accepted his end when he rigged you to the explosives. What he didn't say was that the countdown was delayed.

When you got to 19, the first explosion went off to the left, then another one on the right, and a third overhead. Great chunks of the walls and ceiling crumbled and shook with the force. You let out a shriek as an unbearably large piece of concrete fell directly in front of you, forcing Reed to stop. "--FUCKING HELL!!"

It could be climbed over, and you were pushed over the top, taken by Hank while Connor reached for your partner. Another chunk of concrete fell on top of the first before still more explosions filled the air. "WE GOTTA GET OUTTA HERE!!" Hank roared.

"I'LL FIND ANOTHER WAY, CARA MIA!!" Reed tried to reassure you.

"DON'T LEAVE HIM!!" you screeched, thrashing and trying to get the lieutenant to put you down, but he and the RK800 were out the front doors a second later.

The remainder of the explosives were activated, shaking the entirety of the city, and your heart, like the warehouse, crumbled to jagged pieces to the ground.

"GAVIN!!!"