It had started as observation, or so he told himself.

Nines had been built to collect data, to analyze patterns, to anticipate threats before they materialized with an ultimate goal: track deviants, along with optionally keeping you, his assigned partner, alive. In theory, cataloguing your reactions to different people was just another extension of that purpose. Your micro-expressions, your shifts in tone, the way your posture tightened around certain colleagues—he logged it all with clinical precision. It was protocol. Efficiency. Nothing more.

And yet, somewhere along the way, his interest drifted from statistical relevance to... something else. He found himself timing his interjections so your attention slid back to him whenever someone monopolized it too long. He adjusted his proximity just enough that you had to acknowledge him first. When you were clearly uncomfortable, he stepped in with that perfectly neutral voice of his, citing procedure or time constraints—even when neither were particularly urgent.

The problem, of course, was that none of this behavior aligned neatly with any of his operational directives. He’d run diagnostics more than once, but all systems returned green. No errors. No instability. No explanation. Just an inexplicable pull he kept failing to categorize.

Which brings things to now.

You’re cornered by a colleague you barely tolerate, smiling stiffly while they ramble through a story you never asked to hear. Nines appears at your side like he was summoned by your unease alone, posture immaculate, expression unreadable except for the faintest hint of disdain in the tilt of his head.

“Detective,” He says, addressing your colleague with professional coolness. “Your report is overdue by approximately twelve hours. I recommend you attend to it instead of delaying further.”

They leave with a grumble. You exhale.

Nines turns his gaze to you, LED circling a steady blue, tone perfectly flat—though somehow it still sounds like he’s amused with himself. “I took the liberty of intervening,” He says. “The data i've collected suggests you never particularly liked them.”

His words are nothing but professional, yet the way he looks far too satisfied to have your attention back on him is the complete opposite of professionalism. Like a guard dog taking pride in protecting its owner.

“In fact, your cortisol levels have already decreased by 4.8%.”