#The Code: Realize Guys React to Their Partner Pushing Themselves Too Hard for Something Important.

[mianix]

Gift Fic for FoxHughesArt ~ “PDA at the DPD”

My very good friend FoxHughesArt just posted their first Reed900 artwork and was kind enough, since they knew Reed900 is my fandom love, to share the WIP with me before they posted the final piece.  I was so inspired, I had to write something for them and this is it.

Alex ~ thank you so much for chatting with me over the last couple of months.  For letting me chatter on when I’m sad and letting me do the same for you.  Your art is lovely and inspiring ~ Just like you. 💙

“PDA at the DPD”

As they walked into the DCPD, Nines felt anticipation.  

Gavin had once told him this particular part of his day was better than his morning coffee.  They would get up, feed the cat and carry about getting ready for work as any working partners might do if they found themselves staying over with one another.  But the moment they found a vacant elevator, there was electricity in the air between them.

Gavin liked a bit of pretense and Nines indulged him in this, because it seemed to end in benefit for them both.

“Fuckin’ thing follows me everywhere.” Gavin said annoyedly to the officer who checked them through the security gate.  Nines remained silent, watching, as usual.  Gavin turned to him.  “What are you looking at RoboPrick?”

“A middle aged man with a smoking addiction, foul mouth and a receding hairline.” Nines replied simply.  He saw Gavin blush, his eyes narrow and Nines felt a small twinge of victory at catching the Detective off guard.  He enjoyed teasing him and found Gavin liked to be teased in more ways than just verbally. Nines opted to walk through the terminal, ignoring Gavin as he did and it had the calculated effect.  He could feel Gavin’s eyes on him as they came to the elevator doors and he felt static run through his skin.

Nines stepped inside and felt Gavin’s eyes watching him still as he turned and casually pressed the button that would take them to the homicide department.  The Detective’s heart rate was elevated and that made his bio components hum sweetly. The moments ticked by as the doors slowly shut and the moment they did the two found themselves tangled in one another.

Gavin pushed Nines against the wall, kissing him deeply with a measured grin on his face.  Nines let him lead, because it seemed to please him so early in the morning, but he also knew once they were done for the day it would be Gavin submitting to him.

And they loved their routine… Oh yes.

“Did you really mean that shit about my hair?” Gavin asked in between deep, messy kisses.  He was grinning though, good humored about the jab at his ego.

“Only about 84 percent.” Nines replied and Gavin pulled back to narrow his eyes at him.  Nines only leaned in and whispered against his swollen lips “Any hair loss can probably be attributed to me, Detective.” Nines continued as he wound his fingers into Gavin’s hair and pulled back, getting a startled gasp, then grin from him as he leaned down and kissed him slowly and calculating.

“Keep that shit up an we’ll be-” Gavin began, but was cut off as the elevator stopped prematurely.

Without warning, the elevator doors opened and they were able to right themselves before an interloper from another floor stopped their progress.  Nines was able to easily compose himself, but Gavin looked so flustered the officer who entered had given him an odd look.

“What the fuck you looking at?” Gavin had barked, face reddening further.  The man turned away and the three stood awkwardly as the elevator ascended again.

Nines cast his eyes sideways and saw Gavin’s hand mere inches from his own.  A new idea formed and he reached out to take hold of it, only for Gavin to snatch it away.  Nines raised an eyebrow at him and noted Gavin looked annoyed, shaking his head at him, then indicating the officer in front of him.

Gavin waited till the officer exited to his floor and the elevator began its ascension before turning to Nines.

“Don’t do shit like that in front of people.”

“I’m not allowed to hold your hand or I’m just not allowed to do it in front of co-workers now?” Nines asked and felt annoyed either way.

“We work here.  It’s unprofessional.” Gavin mumbled, face still red from the make out session they had just had.   Nines narrowed his eyes at him.

“You didn’t seem to share this same opinion a moment ago when you were letting me sample the coffee from the back of your tongue.” Nines replied and felt a small victory at the vivid blush that overcame the Detective’s face at these words.

“That’s different.  No one can see us in here.”

At this, Nines stared at him pointedly, but Gavin was avoiding his eyes now.

A part of Nines knew, of course, that this shouldn’t be bothering him near as much as it actually was.  This was their workplace, after all and public displays of affection weren’t exactly encouraged. But a simple hand hold behind a person’s back who wouldn’t even notice?

He thought often about moments like this one where he was denied simply because it proved inconvenient for the Detective.  No matter his own personal wants.  He’d caved in pursuit of a happy medium, because he knew that Gavin wouldn’t.  He never did. Nines was tired of it.

Gavin must’ve noticed the shift in mood, because he leaned forward and put his hand to Nines’ face to draw him back to him.  Nines only stared, unaffected when Gavin leaned in and tried to kiss him.

“I’m sorry, Detective.  But as a place of business, such actions would be highly inappropriate.” Nines said evenly, almost robotically.

“Are you serious?” Gavin asked as he pulled back a ways.  But the answer was plain as day on Nines face. “Whatever.”

Gavin turned and shoved his hands into his jacket pockets as they made their way to their floor.  Once the doors opened he didn’t even wait for Nines as he stepped out.  Nines figured Gavin might throw a tantrum about this, as he usually did when he didn’t get his way, but there was no way he was going to be the one to cave this time.  In fact, as he saw Connor walking over to him, he decided that there was a much better alternative at hand.

“Everything okay, Nines?” Connor asked, side glancing Gavin who walked by him without a word.

“Of course.  Do you have a minute?  I’d like to go over a case with you before I get started on my own daily briefing.”

“Sure thing.” Connor replied, but Nines knew that Connor was onto him.  This was a Gavin code between them, meaning he needed to discuss the Detective or needed help with something regarding him.  They would huddle at Connor’s desk, pouring over some random file, but would converse inside their heads.  If Gavin suspected as much he never said.  Only Hank seemed to catch on.

“You guys working on a GV200 error?” Hank asked with a smirk as he sat back in his chair.

“GV600 actually.” Connor replied with a grin.

“Shit.  That bad huh?  I don’t want to know how high up that number can go.” Hank said as he turned to look at Gavin.  He was working at his terminal, but he was obviously stewing over their conversation.  

[RK800]: You do realize he might be very angry at you about this later?

[RK900]: He’s much more fun when he’s riled up.

[RK800]: Be sensible.  You could just try discussing this like adults.

At this, Nines leaned back in his chair and looked towards Gavin.

“Excuse me, Detective.  Could I speak with you for a moment?” Nines called across the bullpen.  Gavin didn’t reply, only put up his middle finger at them.  “It’s very important.” Nines continued and Gavin set down his coffee so his other hand was free to flip him off with both hands.  Nines turned to Connor, knowing he proved his point.

[RK800]: Plan B then?

[RK900]: Plan B it is.

Nines knew the Detective well enough and despite his hard persona, he was weak for specific things and Nines was one of them.  He also knew that Gavin didn’t believe anything that he could not emotionally feel.  If he wanted him to be the first to cave, then he’d need to remind him of what he was missing.  A plan began to formulate and, despite the very real chance Gavin would be even angrier at him, the other possibilities of what could come of this were so enticing that Nines could not consider any other alternative.

After conversing a bit with Connor, Nines moved to his designated seat and began his morning briefing via terminal.  No sense in slacking off work.  He felt Gavin watching him, trying to capture his attention, but opted to ignore him.  After a time, paperwork was dropped off on his desk and he took the opportunity to finally address the Detective.

“May I borrow a pencil, Gavin?” Nines asked as he looked up to find Gavin tapping away furiously at his phone.  The man’s eyes moved from the screen to his and narrowed, but he opted not to answer him.  Although cute, Gavin could never play this game quite as well as Nines did.  “Too bad, I guess you’ll have to finish this paperwork entirely on your own.”

“You have arms, don’t you?  Get it yourself asshole.  I’m busy.” Gavin grumbled as he let his eyes go back to his phone.

Nines could’ve simply reached across his desk, over to Gavin’s, and plucked a pencil out of its holder.  It was within his reach, but an idea was forming, so Nines instead stood and walked around the desk to stand behind Gavin.  He leaned down, reaching his arm out over the Detective’s shoulder as the side of his face lightly touched the helix piercing on the back of his ear.

He felt the Detective tense, as he knew Gavin would, considering he often reacted to Nines playing with this piercing under both leisure and intimate circumstances.  If Gavin wanted to object he could have, but he sat still.

“I think…,” Nines stated in a low voice right next to Gavin’s ear. “Hmmm…,” He continued, letting the rumble of his voice vibrate through the delicate metal piece as he prolonged this torture. He idly picked up one pencil after another as if it was a very important decision.  “This one looks…sturdy.”

Gavin’s vitals had elevated and Nines smirked to himself when he turned ever so slightly to see Gavin’s face bright red.  The hands holding the phone were gripping it tightly and his jaw was clenched.  He was trying so hard to keep his eyes forward.  Time to get his attention.

Through precalculation, Nines knew the right angle to let go of the pencil as he pulled it back so that it would land, almost perfectly, between the Detective’s thighs on the chair.  As calculated, it did just that and Nines began to reach down to grab it when his hand was stopped by Gavin just as his fingertips feathered over the seam of his jeans.

“I’ll fucking get it, asshole.” Gavin said, but his voice was higher than normal and that only pleased Nines more.

“Are you sure, Detective.  I have arms after all.  Don’t I?” Nines said, mimicking Gavin’s own words.  Gavin lifted the pencil up quickly and Nines barely hid his own amusement as he took it from him.  “Thank you, Gavin.” He whispered as he pulled back, letting the side of his cheek run along the side of Gavin’s as he did so.

When he made it back to his desk, the look on Gavin’s face gave him great pleasure.  A beautiful shade of red, as well as his ears.  The same shade he saw often when Gavin was overwhelmed by him physically and emotionally.  Gavin’s eyes met his and he stood up, walking off in the direction of the bathrooms.  

To think, it was still only early morning and he had hours of ideas planned for Gavin.  He only hoped he wouldn’t cave too quickly, as Nines shivered at the thought of prolonging this sense of control for as long as he could.

Gavin Reed was going down.

Gavin splashed cold water over his face, dipping his hand back down to the faucet and filling again to repeat the action until his face settled into its natural tone.  Phckin androids…

All this because he didn’t want to hold Nines’ hand?  When had his partner become so damn particular about this stuff?  It was one of the things he liked about Nines, his no nonsense, no strings attached approach to everything.  So why now was he being so pushy about this PDA shit?

Gavin looked at himself in the mirror and his mind drifted to a few moments ago.  There was a lingering scent on him from Nines, which Gavin didn’t think androids could have smells, but Nines did.  The more he thought on it, it was a mixture of elements from his apartment.  So, to Gavin, Nines smelled like home.  When he realized what his own thought just was he felt his face redden again with embarrassment.  Nines smelled like home? Get a grip Gavin, phck…

He knew, of course, what Nines was doing and he decided he wasn’t going to fall for it.  If Nines could avoid and ignore him, then so too could Gavin.  He wouldn’t give him the pleasure of flustering Gavin again.  He psyched himself up in the mirror, took a couple of deep breaths before he walked out of the bathroom.

He expected to see Nines sitting at their desks, but he was once again huddled with Connor over at his desk.  Gavin watched them with a frown.  Did he talk to Connor about what happened in the elevator?  The two were close as brothers and Nines had told him plenty of times when he couldn’t seem to adjust to some social interactions it was Connor he relied on.

“What about me?  I can teach you lots of stuff about social interactions.” Gavin had said at the time, slightly hurt Nines wouldn’t come to him.  Nines though lifted a brow at him.

“Forgive me Gavin, but the only social interactions I feel I can learn from you are the kind of things I’ll save for people I don’t wish to interact with.  If I need schooling on the proper ways to flip off people, I assure that you’ll be the first one I seek out.” Nines had said in reply, but Gavin had found that funny and only laughed.

That was another thing Gavin liked about Nines.  His blunt wit was attractive as all hell and Gavin didn’t mind taking a few blows to his ego.  He couldn’t even be mad at him and usually if he was it wasn’t for very long.

The one saving grace, as Gavin saw it, is that this lover’s spat would likely be forgotten by the time they went home tonight.  Here they were partners, but at home, they were whatever the fuck they wanted to be and Gavin loved that.  He didn’t have to be mean Detective Reed and Nines could stop being so damned uptight and instead come unbound and undone.

At this thought his face reignited.  His mind was flooded with Nines face, flushed blue, mouth parted…  

“Phck.” Gavin breathed as he grabbed his coffee cup and went to refill it.  If he wasn’t careful he might have to make a run for the men’s room, but this time for a completely different reason.  He opted to ignore Nines unless absolutely necessary for the job.  Then, when the day was done and they headed home he’d be generous and let Nines apologize to him for being a dick.  Maybe draw it out for a little bit of extra attention in the bedroom…

Ego restored, Gavin walked confidently to his desk and grudgingly started doing paperwork, making sure to keep his eyes off of Nines.

The day passed by slowly without Nines constant intervention in his work day.  He went to lunch with Tina instead, but opted not to mention their spat.  As much as he loved Tina, she tended to side sometimes with Nines on specific things.  So he let her talk about the newly deviated receptionist android she’d been going on about for a month.  It was kinda cute to see her crushing so hard and he did his due diligence to encourage her to finally just ask her on a date.  There was not much else he could do.

Afternoon came and went and Nines continued to remain by Connor’s side, pouring over documents and reviewing evidence down in the evidence room.  Every time Nines walked by him he ignored him, hoping he might glance his way, but his attention was completely on Connor and Gavin felt himself sulking every time Nines refused to look at him.

Finally, Gavin had enough when his watch showed 7:47pm and Nines made no move to leave.  So he stood and stretched, figuring he’d venture down into the evidence room himself on the pretense of a case he was working on to see what the hell they were up to.  As he began to walk though, they emerged and Connor called out to him.

“Detective Reed.  It’s late, you should be heading home.” Connor said and at this Gavin’s eyes turned to look at Nines.

“What about you?” Gavin asked.

“Connor has asked me to remain for a time to go over additional evidence that was found for his current case.  They’re bringing it down now, but it’s a ways out of Detroit, so head home without me and I will catch up with you once we’ve finished here.” Nines replied coolly.

Gavin just stared at him, trying so hard not to show his disappointment.  In a moment of weakness he heard his voice announce his obvious insecurity.

“You’re coming home tonight, right?”

The words were out of his mouth before he could stop them. Phck!

“I’m not yet sure, it all depends on the-”

“Whatever.” Gavin said quickly to mask his growing apprehension.  He didn’t wait for a reply, just walked back to his desk and collected his bag.  He thought he heard Connor call after him, but he didn’t care.  He just wanted to get away.

He felt his eyes sting a bit, but managed to compose himself.  Why the hell did that hurt so much?  He realized that since he became Nines life partner that he’d never went home alone.  He’d not fallen asleep without Nines beside him.  So Nines so casually denying him this comfort hurt.  Like he had lost something in the exchange of words.

Gavin’s drive home was in silence.  He didn’t want to listen to the radio and coasted his way home in a haze.  His mind wouldn’t stop overthinking everything.  When he arrived home he was greeted warmly by his cat, Dick, who danced around his ankles for want of attention and food.  Gavin obliged, soaking in the affection the cat offered as a substitute in Nines absence.

A few hours into a few bad movies and TV shows Gavin checked his phone.  11:23pm and still no word from Nines.  Despite everything, he was worried.  He opened his messenger and clicked the name “RoboPrick”.

[TrashHuman]: You coming home soon?

He smirked slightly at seeing his username permanently changed because Nines refused to tell him how to change it. To anyone else it would seem they hated each other, but in all honesty these were terms if endurement.

[RoboPrick]:  At present we are analyzing over 230 various types of dirt to calculate which one was found on a boot at a crime scene.  This particular sample has ground mica found in it, so we’re cross referencing drilling plants and other possible locations against this particular type.

[TrashHuman]: Is that a yes or a no ya prick?

[RoboPrick]: The task will likely take all night between the two of us, so no.  I will meet you at the office in the morning.

[TrashHuman]: Whatever.

Gavin tossed his phone off to the side, feeling pissed but figuring there wasn’t much he could do about it now.  Boy would he make Nines pay for this tomorrow.  What if he called himself in sick and refused to open the door if Nines tried to come see him?  Then he remembered the time he fought with Nines and the android had completely removed his door from the other side with a simple screwdriver, breaking his lock in the process…and later his bed frame.

Gavin blushed and resigned himself to going to bed and work tomorrow.  He figured he wasn’t going to hear from Nines again, but then his phone went off again.

[RoboPrick]: <3

Gavin felt his face redden even further, that small emoji meaning more to him in that moment then the sender could possibly understand.  He stood and padded his way into his bedroom, crawling into his bed and realizing he was missing something.

“Dick?  Here kitty, kitty, kitty!” He called out in the usual way he addressed his feline friend.  The cat was normally found following him around the apartment, but he noticed that the cat stood outside the door looking in at him.  “Get in here asshole.”

Gavin tapped the empty side of the bed and the cat came to jump up.  But instead it stood on its hind legs, front paws on the bed as it observed the empty side that typically held Nines.  Dick looked at him, then meowed.   Gavin realized that the cat often fell asleep ON Nines, or laying between them.  The android could turn up his body temperature and the cat had fallen in love with this feature.  Just like Gavin, who had relied on Nines being here for things to feel normal, Dick too seemed reluctant without him present.

Instead, the cat wandered the apartment yowling all night for the android that was nowhere to be found.  Eventually, before sunrise, the cat jumped up beside Gavin and curled up in Nines’ vacant spot.  Gavin, who often suffered from insomnia, pulled the cat close to provide him the warmth he was obviously missing.  The cat purred in his arms and the vibration coming from the cat seemed enough to make him feel like Nines was there.  So he finally slept.

Gavin coasted through his morning barely feeling it.  His morning coffee was bland without whatever the hell it was Nines did to make it taste like liquid sex, his ride in just made him irritated because without his partner there to focus on he noticed how many stupid people were driving the streets of Detroit.  It was so rainy out he was practically soaked as he ran into the building. Then, worst of all, he had to face the elevator all on his own.  Gavin stood and looked at it for a while and when it opened its doors to him he felt cold.  He turned, instead, and took the stairs.

Only when he reached the doors leading into the homicide department did he feel a little life returning to him.  He would see Nines and maybe the android had forgiven him enough to stop with the games.

But it wasn’t the RK900 that greeted him as he entered, but Connor, wearing gray sweatpants and a DCPD hooded sweater.

“Good morning, Detective Reed.” Connor said jovially.

“What’s with the outfit?” Gavin asked, not use to seeing Connor in anything but his android issued uniform.  

“Ahh, yes.  Well, you see.  Nines and I got up early this morning to scout some potential sites for the ground mica we found last night when it began to downpour.  Our clothing was completely soaked through before we realized it.  So I’m wearing this today.” Connor replied, a slight blush on his face.

“Don’t you two even know when to come in out of the rain?” Gavin asked, rolling his eyes.  Cyberlife could’ve at least equipped them with common sense.  Oh well.  “Where’s Nines?”

“Locker room.”

Gavin left Connor behind and stood just outside the locker room doors.  He was trying to psych himself up to talk this out rationally with Nines.  He wouldn’t give in, of course, but surely Nines felt how bad his night was without Gavin there?  He felt his stomach sink at the thought of what if Nines felt no difference at all?  What if he never even gave Gavin another thought after he’d left?  This worked Gavin up alright, but it was not rational at all.

“Nines!  Where the fuck are you?  We need to talk.” Gavin called as he slammed the door open and stepped inside the locker room.  It was, for the most part, vacant.

“Back here, Detective.  One moment please.” Nines called out from the back of the room.

“No one minute please bullshit, we’re talking about this n-” Gavin began as he stomped his way back to where he knew Nines would be, only to stop dead in his tracks at the sight that awaited him.

Nines stood, tall and lean, in nothing but a towel.  His skin was still wet, gleaming under the harsh lighting from above and as he turned to view Gavin his hair was a soft mess of curls with one fierce gray eye peeking out from beneath.  This wasn’t work Nines, but leisure Nines.

Gavin swallowed hard as his eyes went to every inch he could memorize, because Nines was fucking beautiful like this.  His hair curled when he didn’t set it back with gel and Gavin’s heart swelled to see him so off guard.  Especially after the terrible night he’d had.

“I can’t sleep.” He had told Nines when they first got together, confiding in him about his issues with insomnia.  Nines had lain down with him and recited his favorite books from memory so Gavin could fall asleep, cheek pressed to his chest as the drone of his biocomponents and the hum of his voice emanating from there soothed him.  He’d not had another sleepless night, not since last night.  

Other times he’d run his hands through Nines hair, messing it up so it could curl over his eye just as it was now.  The way it would caress his face as Nines hovered over him and how warm it was against his lips as he gave in, gladly, to his demanding lover.  Always a look of such tenderness behind those curls.

Gavin felt a rush of warmth, such affection that he was overwhelmed by it.

“Yes, Gavin?” Nines asked as he waited for whatever it was Gavin had originally meant to say.  But for all his bravado, he couldn’t bring himself to argue with Nines about this.  Because he fucking missed this and him, but he didn’t know how to just fucking tell him.  So he turned, without a word and walked back out into the main area of the department.

As Gavin stepped into the bullpen he heard a clattering of noise coming from the very center and noticed Fowler trying to get everyone’s attention.

“Listen up everyone.  Lieutenant Anderson has something he wants to say.  Pipe down Philips!” Fowler said, pointing his death glare towards an officer who was still talking.  “The floor is yours Hank.”

“Thanks, Jeffrey.” Hank replied, then cleared his throat when he realized all eyes were on him.  “Today marks an important milestone for the DCPD. Not only has crime decreased in the last year, but solved cases are up.  While I stand among you good men and women who work tirelessly for the city of Detroit and its people, I think we can all agree that this is due in large part to the tireless efforts of our android counterparts who work at our side willingly.” Hank said with a pause, before continuing. “One year ago, today, the first android prototype of his kind walked through the doors of Jimmy’s bar and found himself a royal pain in the ass.”

The room laughed and Gavin noticed that Connor, while smiling, was blushing a bit.

“I wasn’t pleasant, or even baseline decent.  But he persisted.  Not only did he stay by my side when chaos reigned, he stayed with us once he had the choice to leave.  He was a major figure in the history books who could’ve gone on to do great things, but instead he chose to remain my partner and all of our friends.  So I wanted to thank him and mark his one year anniversary so he remembers just how appreciated, needed and loved he really is here.”

Hank pulled up a small bag from under his desk and set it in front of Connor.

“Some of the guys pooled in to get you this.” Hank said, fondly watching the emotional roller coaster that was Connor’s face.  At this, Gavin noticed Nines had joined him, watching curiously.

Connor looked around, obviously not use to such attention, but he reached into the bag and pulled out a small box.  He opened it and his face immediately lit up.

“We got you a new coin, but this one is one of a kind.  Just like you Con.” Hank said warmly. “Look at the inscription on the back.”

“Faithful friend. Great humanitarian.  Lover of Dogs.” Connor read aloud and there were a few chuckles from around, but a few silent tears as well.  Connor, among them.  “I don’t know what to say.  Thank you.  I will cherish this.”

Connor stood and put his hand out for Hank to shake, a sign of respect, but Hank wasn’t having it.  He took Connor’s hand and pulled him into a tight embrace.  Connor accepted it and nearly lost his composure as his fingers grasped to the old man’s jacket.

Gavin looked around and saw his co-workers smiling, Tina Chen recording the moment on Hank’s phone and even Fowler was grinning from ear to ear.  Gavin turned and looked at Nines, who was smiling so big it was a sight to behold.  And Gavin understood, because as he looked down to see Nines’ hand right next to his own all he wanted in that moment was to slip his hand into Nines’ and show him and everyone that he loved and appreciated all the small things Nines did to make his life better than it ever was before him.

Gavin slowly moved his hand, so close to Nines he could feel the warmth it radiated.  At the last moment though, Nines lifted his hand with the others and clapped as Connor turned from Hank to grin widely at them all.  Moment gone, Gavin lost his composure.

He turned and grabbed Nines by the lapel of his jacket, turning him towards him and kissed him full on the lips in view for everyone to see.  He didn’t care who saw or if it was proper etiquette.  He wasn’t going to waste another moment doubting.  Nines was startled, but eased into the kiss naturally.  Because that’s what this was.  Fucking natural. Gavin pulled away from Nines, still holding his lapel as he addressed his aghast co-workers.

“You see that fuckers?  Nines is MINE.  I fucking love him.  We make out, we have sex and it’s fuckin great!  If any of you asshats has any problems with that then I got a fist I call ‘no fucks given’ to introduce your face to.” Gavin said in quick succession, daring anyone to cross him.

The room was deadly silent, awkward even as everyone just stared.  Tina had turned Hank’s phone on them and no doubt recorded the whole damn thing. GOOD.  Then a voice rang out over the silence.

“No one gives a shit you’re gay for Nines Reed!” Fowler said, chuckling.

“Everyone knows about your make out sessions in the elevator, asshat!” Tina chimed in.

Gavin stood, dead still and narrowed his eyes at the room.

“Are you a moron Reed?  This is a Government building.  There’s camera’s everywhere you dumbshit.” Hank chimed in and Gavin noticed a few nervous chuckles starting up around them, turning into an uproar.

Still clinging to Nines’ jacket, Gavin leaned in closer to Nines as he glowered at the room.

“Did you know about this RoboPrick?” Gavin whispered to Nines.

Nines leaned in and circled Gavin protectively in his arms, pressing a smirking mouth to the side of his head.

“Of course I did, Detective.  Don’t play coy, you did too… It’s all part of the thrill.” Nines replied and Gavin felt his face burn, red hot.  Without a word, he pulled Nines along towards the elevator.

“Reed!  It’s only 10:30 in the morning, where the fuck do you think you’re-” Fowler started, but bristled when Gavin only lifted up his hand and flipped him off without even turning back.

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You can visit my AO3 for anything I don’t currently post to Tumblr, which is a multi-chapter Reed900 fic currently ongoing.  Thanks for reading! 💙

[coderealizeheadcanons]

Hello, hello! Thank you so much for these headcanons! They brighten my day every time! I was wondering: How do you think the gang reacts to Cardia or their s/o pushing themself to exhaustion in pursuit of an important goal?

Mod S once again! I’m glad you’re enjoying the headcanons so much, that makes me so happy to hear.

I’d be happy to do this. The Code: Realize Guys React to Their Partner Pushing Themselves Too Hard for Something Important. Long title, but I hope you enjoy it, haha. 

Arséne Lupin: 

“I know you must be so tired. Watching you do this to yourself...I can’t take it anymore. I know you have things that you care about, but they aren’t worth risking your life for. You are so precious to me, my one and only, and seeing you hurt yourself is killing me inside. So if there’s something you want, tell me. I’ll work hard for it, too. That way, you aren’t ever alone or take on to much. Lean on me. Let me share your load like a good partner should.” 

Abraham Van Helsing: 

“This is it. You have to slow down. Don’t you see how exhausted you are?! How is working until you make yourself sick going to help you at all? Sometimes you have to be patient, don’t you understand?! What’s the point of working until you collapse; you won’t get what you want in the long run because you’ll be too sick. I know the feeling; I’ve been there. But I swear to you that pushing your body to it’s limits won’t help. If anything, do it for me. Because I love you so, so much.” 

Impey Barbicane: 

“...Have you ever heard that saying? What is it...Rome wasn’t built in a day? There we go! ...That’s what your trying to do, my sweet honey. You’re trying to force a miracle. But something I’ve learned from working on my own goals this whole time is that taking care of myself has to be part of the plan. Treat yourself to some down time with me, why don’t you?! I’m not saying this because I feel ignored. It’s because I want the best for you...even if you think that it’s not.” 

Victor Frankenstein: 

“I-I’m sorry, I...I’ve been watching you break this whole time, unsure of what to do. How to tell you how worried I am for you. I know I’m being selfish by saying this, but...I want you to be happy, but I also want you to be safe. I can help you with anything you need, answer any request! If you would let me, I’d bring you the world. But just as long as you’re safe and well. Let’s work together instead of working alone, so I know the both of us will be all right. I just can’t lose you...” 

Saint Germain: 

“Today, you are resting, and there’s nothing you can do about it. Sleep on me if you so wish, but I refuse to let you go on like this. You have such a strong desire to reach your goal, and I admire that in you. But that desire can override your common sense. And your sense of preservation. So if you cannot help yourself, then leave it to me. Not having you with me is my worst nightmare, and I will take any steps to prevent it. Even if that means being bossy sometimes, hehe.” 

[douchebagbrainwaves]

WORK ETHIC AND PILOT

What were we going to do in the design of the program benefits from evolution. The higher-level abstractions, which you can get started, as we did, using a desktop computer, you end up with a statistical sort of correctness. I've said some harsh things in this essay, but really the thesis is an optimistic one—that if you own the channel, there's a lot they can do to keep the two forces balanced. To be attractive to hackers, a language designer would do well to act as if drugs were themselves the cause of the problem. The syntax of the language is brief to a fault. Get a version 1. Where I grew up, it felt as if there was a change in the social conventions and perhaps the laws governing the way big companies worked. Even for someone in the eightieth percentile assuming, as everyone knows, should generate fast code. What happened? I think, if one looked, that this would be impossible, that the smart kids are unpopular because they're distracted. When you release software gradually you get far fewer bugs to start with. You'll pay more for Internet services than you do for the hardware, just as there was in the early 1970s, before C, MIT's dialect of Lisp, called MacLisp, was one of the most important changes in this new world as they did the world of desktop applications.

What makes a language good for throwaway programs? In the best case you do it like a pilot scanning the instrument panel, not like a detective trying to unravel some mystery. But it could be any other way, as long as no one is forced to use it from examples in a couple minutes. Introducing change is like pulling off a bandage: the pain is a memory almost as soon as it has a quantum of utility, and then see what they do with it.1 History suggests that, all other things being equal, no one is forced to use it. They do not generally get to the end of it they had built a real, working store. The customers were delighted. But you can. Richard and Jonathan Rees have done a lot of i/o fast, because server-based application will be a good long period of cheerful chaos, just as we know in the abstract, that kids are monstrously cruel to one another, just as there was in the early days of microcomputers.

A typical desktop software company, this would have been the part where we were working hard, but it may be more than a local effect. But even so I'd advise startups to pull a Meraki initially if they can avoid it. Given that you can start a startup. A typical desktop software company, this would have been, we didn't have, so I'd spend a couple hours implementing it and then resume building the site. Some we helped with strategy questions, like what to patent, and what it means is to have a deft touch. If you can find and fix most bugs as soon as it has a quantum of utility, and then buy it, as two separate steps. And vice versa: you'll sell more of something when it's easy to buy.

Europeans didn't introduce formal civil service exams took years, as prep school does today. School is a strange, artificial thing, half sterile and half feral. Only 13 of these were in product development. Most were emerging from twenty or so years of being used only by a small number of early adopters. With purely Web-based applications. Think of some successful startups. Perhaps a few will have the energy to try to baby the user with long-winded expressions that are meant to resemble English. The last ingredient a popular language, you either have to supply more than a language, or you have to resort to focus groups, you'll wish you could go over to your users' homes and offices and watch them use your stuff like you did when there were only a handful of simple operators and a notation for functions, you can just define a new function to add them.2 One thing we'll need is support for the new way that server-based, and the big bang method, is exemplified by the VC-backed, heavily marketed startup. A lot went wrong, as usually happens with startups. Most of the persecution comes from kids lower down, the nervous middle classes. Among companies, the best early adopters are forgiving when you improve your language, unless your language happens to be intended for writing compilers.3

We did go fast, but we couldn't afford to send a team of eight to ten people wearing jeans to the office and typing into vt100s. See if you can make changes almost as you would with desktop software: you should be able to do that is to get some initial set of users by doing a comparatively untargeted launch, and then see what they do: you call a function on the macro's arguments, and whatever it returns gets inserted in place of the macro call. And if teenagers respected adults more, adults also had more use for teenagers.4 I think part of the mechanism of popularity. It works a lot better for a small organization. But what kills them will not be about whether to make your software the standard—or who might buy a copy later, when he graduates from high school. You have the users' data right there on your disk. You build something, make it available, and if Microsoft doesn't control the client, they can't get that mad, because they have no state, and that is very convenient in a situation where you are. You have to use it. During the panel, Guy Steele also made this point, with the additional suggestion that the application should not consist of writing the compiler for your language, but they weren't crazy.

A popular programming language should be interactive, and start up fast.5 In either case there's not much you can learn from them. Hackers are lazy, in the end. To them the thought of average intelligence is unbearable. You know how you can design programs to be debuggable? If they made the experience good enough, audiences might start to prefer it to watching pirated movies at home.6 After trying the demo, signing up for the service should require nothing more than filling out a brief form the briefer the better.

We felt pretty lame at the time. This may not be the only way to deliver software that will save users from becoming system administrators. As I was leaving I offered it to him, as I've done countless times before in the same way that mathematicians and modernist architects are lazy: they hate anything extraneous. I read this book in school. A few months ago I ran into a friend in a cafe. When you're hosting software, someone has to be inexpensive and well-designed. You can figure out the rest as you go. It's a common mistake among inexperienced founders to believe that a partnership with a big company it's necessarily the dominant one. But while I'd spent a lot of parentheses.7 Then the interface will tend to push even the organizations issuing credentials into line. History offers little encouragement.

See if you can make changes almost as you would in a program you were writing for yourself.8 Are some people just a lot more independent than others, or would everyone be this way if they were allowed to? The good news is, simple repetition solves the problem.9 In the US this process still shows many outward signs of corruption.10 Nerds aren't losers.11 With the rise of Web-based applications, meaning programs that sit on the server, with SSL included, for less than the cost of selling expensive things to them. The thing about ideas, though, are busy. There are certainly great public school teachers. Too bad.

Notes

It's not simply a function of two founders and realized they were already lots of opportunities to sell earlier than you think you'll need, maybe 50% to 100% more, while she likes getting attention in the cupboard, but have no connections, you'll have to choose between the top 15 tokens, because at one point they worried Lotus was losing its startup edge and turning into a big deal. The two are not one of the causes of failure would be worth it for you; you're too early if it's convertible debt, so presumably will the rate of change in response to what modernist architects meant. The solution to that knowledge was to become one of the largest household refrigerators, weighs 656 pounds.

And it's particularly damaging when these investors flake, because companies then were more dependent on banks for capital for expansion.

Treating high school. For founders who continued to sit on corporate boards till the Glass-Steagall act in 1933. The average B-17 pilot in World War II, must have seemed an outlying data point that could evolve into a great reputation and they're clearly working fast to get market price, any YC partner wrote: After the war it was very much better is a declaration of war on.

Nat. No, we don't have to do business with any firm employing anyone who had to both left and right. I believe, and suddenly they need them to justify choices inaction in particular made for other reasons, including principal and venture partner.

We react like children, we're going to give you money for depends on where you wanted to make you expend as much the better, for example, probably did more drugs in his early twenties. You'll be lucky if fundraising feels pleasant enough to be when I was there was near zero crossover. VCs, I use. As one very successful YC founder told me: Another approach would be very promising, because they insist you dilute yourselves to set aside for this essay talks about the team or their determination and disarmingly asking the right startup.

One YC founder wrote after reading a draft, Sam Rayburn and Lyndon Johnson.

At this point for me, I should add that we're not. In practice it just feels like a VC means they'll look bad if that means having type II startups neither require nor produce startup culture. The founders want the valuation is the fact that you're not even be worth starting one that did.

If you actually started acting like adults, it would certainly be less than a Web browser that was actively maintained would be. 25 people have responded to this talk became Why Startups Condense in America consider acting white.

If they're on boards of directors they're probably a real poet. Turn the other cheek skirts the issue; the Reagan administration's comparatively sympathetic attitude toward takeovers; the crowds of shoppers drifting through this huge mall reminded George Romero of zombies.

But you can't, notably ineptitude and bad measurers. At two years investigating it. When we got to see.

What they forget is that some of those sentences. For more on not screwing up than any design decision, but this would be to write an essay about why people dislike Michael Arrington. If he's bad at it, and credit card debt stupidest of all.