Chapter Text
For this assignment, you had to be aware of everything. Every human quality about you had to be erased. There would be no yawning, no lunch breaks, and sleep had to be cut short. If you couldn’t blend in here, you had no chance out there.
Perkins either had way too much faith in you or he really had it out for you.
It would take some getting used to; each action required twice as much thought as it normally would. You had to consider the way you opened a door, how you looked... even the way you breathed. Reminding yourself to stand straighter, you scanned your badge and entered the precinct.
“Efficiency is not comfortable,” Perkins had reminded. He probably had it out for you.
A young man sat at the corner of a desk, leaning over an older gentleman who was reading the newspaper. Paper, not digital. That, you could appreciate.
The young man’s eyes caught yours before his partner’s did. He had a straight-edge look to him, with a few strands hanging loosely over his forehead. He was handsome, in a boyish sort of way.
You steeled your nerves and approached the desk.
“Hi there. Where can I find Detective Reed?”
You noticed a small flash of yellow light on the Detective’s right temple, curiously rotating in a circle. Not good. You mentally kicked yourself for not noticing his CyberLife jacket. Not even a full minute in, and you were done for.
But then, he smiled.
“Detective Reed hasn’t arrived yet. I expect he’ll arrive thirty-five minutes late for his shift. Factoring in the weather and daylight saving time, you could be waiting for up to an hour.”
Incredible how close to human he was… until he wasn’t. His brown eyes scanned yours, watching, looking for something. He’s the one you’d have to look out for.
“I’m Connor, the-" he paused. “The… detective assisting Lieutenant Anderson.”
“Close enough,” the Lieutenant said, rolling his eyes.
You offered what you hoped was a convincing grin. You could fill in the blanks. He was the android that CyberLife lent to the DPD. “I’m an FB900 model sent by the FBI. I’m here to assist in the red ice cases.”
It sounded unusual to say out loud. Your cover was thorough, though. Supposedly, you were a newer model sent to help with interrogations in the aftermath of the riots. Their caseload had to be miles high.
“God, Connor, she’s just as bad as you. Reed’s desk is over there; knock yourself out.” The older man chuckled pityingly.
Just as you turned to find your desk, the android rested his hand on your shoulder. “One more thing, Agent.”
You turned stiffly. He was close enough that you could see a pattern of moles swept across his face. His voice lowered to a whisper, “Detective Reed can be… sensitive around androids. Be careful, alright?”
Awesome. Guess who’s up for a challenge? “Thanks for the heads-up. It was nice to meet you, Connor. You too, Lieutenant.”
If you wanted any chance on the next assignment, you had to put as much distance between you and the android as possible. Chances are, he’d be the first to find you out.
You hovered over your new partner’s desk, unsure and uneasy—nothing to do now but wait.
Connor’s warning roamed around in the back of your mind. Starting on the wrong foot with this guy was the last thing you needed. Hopefully, you could find something about him on his desk.
It didn't take long to realize—not much. Sports cap, a few small pieces of police memorabilia, case files... nothing you could work with. You picked up the file and thumbed through its contents.
Not far off from Connor’s predicted time, a man in a gray hoodie strode past you, only pausing when he realized you’d been snooping through his desk. He snapped his fingers at you before he spoke, “Okay, what's her deal?” He gestured to Connor and the Lieutenant, then pointed at you.
Did it really matter if you were an android?
You straightened, maintaining eye contact and trying very hard to look like you hadn’t just been caught. Connor not-so-subtly stared at the two of you from his desk.
You extended your hand. “I’m an android sent by the FBI to assist with interrogations. I hope that I can be of some help to you here.”
Reed considered you, and then he didn’t. He scowled, “You want to help? Stay the fuck out of my business.”
You lowered it, biting the urge to snap back at him. “Where can I find my desk?”
He wove past you and stretched back in his chair, kicking his feet up onto the desk. “Anywhere but here.”
In the far corner of the precinct, Fowler watched you from his desk. Discomfort painted his features, a state that seemed permanently etched on his face. He was the only one who could know about your mission. He wasn’t happy about it, but he didn’t have much of a choice in the matter.
You’ve dealt with men like Reed before. Hell, you worked for Perkins. It seemed like the higher up you go, the worse it gets.
Connor seemed to want to interject, his attention fixed on you and him. The Lieutenant, fed up with his staring, snapped his attention back to him and their case. It was sweet—his concern, but you had to be the one to handle it. Keeping eye contact with the Detective, you sat at the desk across from him. Risky, but he had to know your place here. There were two paths: pissing him off could mean you could earn his respect, or drive him away entirely. Either way, you went unnoticed.
He rolled back in his chair, wheels scuffing against the tile floor. “Seems you’ve got your wires crossed. I’m not some pushover like Hank. I will not be stuck with a goddamn android.“ Reed stood mid-sentence and made a beeline for Fowler’s office.
Fowler didn’t appreciate this, and having a see-through office in the middle of the precinct didn’t quite help his case. You caught the words “android,” “pay-grade,” and a slew of odd curses. You tried to focus on the case you’d stolen from his desk.
Another stack of files dropped in front of you. “Here’s what we’ve come up with so far. It seems that Hank and I will be working alongside you and Detective Reed. I sent you an email outlining all of the details.”
That’s gonna be hard to keep up with. “Thank you, Connor.”
He cocked his head toward the windowed office, noticing that your attention had been drawn to the commotion. “He hasn’t quite caught up with the whole idea of ‘deviancy’ yet. I’m sure if you give him some time, he’ll come around,” Connor reassured.
He was harder to read than most. People were easier to predict but hard to understand. You weren’t quite sure why he wanted to help… had something happened between him and Detective Reed? Was he that bad?
You made a concerted effort not to pick at your nails. “What was it like meeting the Lieutenant?”
“Not far off,” Hank interjected, “but Connor is nothing if not persistent.” His expression didn’t quite match his words, as he admired the Detective like he were a proud father.
You sighed. “I hope he won’t be too difficult to work with. I’m just here to do my job.”
“Would you like to accompany Hank and I to lunch later? We can discuss the details of the case further.”
“I’d like that.” You found yourself saying.
So much for distance.
“He’s not so bad once you get to know him.”
“Really?”
“Well, no. But he’s a good detective. Easy to tune out once you’re used to him,” Hank said, taking a bite of his burger between words.
Outside of work, Connor seemed to relax into himself more. He took in his surroundings passively, letting his eyes wander to the people around you. You wondered what he saw; what you were supposed to be seeing.
“What are you looking for?”
Again, his LED sparked yellow as he processed your question. He looked at you as if he’d never been asked one before. “Before I became a deviant, I saw everyone’s criminal records. Everything we have in our database—like their name and occupation.”
Good to know they disabled your profile for the mission. “And now?”
He considered it for a moment. “Now… they’re just people. It’s hard to put into words.”
“I think I get what you mean. It’s like you spend so much time going over someone’s case that you forget who they are.”
He lowered his gaze to his hands on the table. You wondered what it was like for him being assigned detective work for his entire existence... most androids left their old lives to try and be someone new, but Connor stayed. Why?
“This case we’re on,” Hank said, “it’s not like the red ice cases I’ve dealt with before. We’re noticing a pattern of it being dealt to anti-android groups around the city.”
“Why do you think that is?”
“We’re not sure,” Connor added. “We’ve got a few locations we’re staking out once the paperwork is through. Hopefully, we get a hold of someone who can answer our questions.”
Fuel to the fire. “And you think they all have the same supplier?”
“The numbers had been much lower since Hank’s older cases. Ever since the riots began, there has been a dramatic increase. We hadn’t realized until recently that the people we’d been investigating had been connected; we’ve spotted a few of them just outside Jericho.”
“Likely not a coincidence,” Hank concluded.
You combed through Connor’s files. Each person had a similar list of charges: assault of an android, violent protesting, and suspected drug use.
“When you bring someone in, I’d be happy to help.”
“If you’re assigned to Gavin, you’ll likely be staking out the place with us," Connor noted. “We don’t know their exact location, so we’ll need to cover as much ground as possible.”
Okay. Not exactly what you had in mind.
Hank stood and paid for his meal as Connor warmed up the car for him. You joined him in the back seat, and as the car started, so did the radio. Hank’s death metal was obnoxiously loud, but it beat having to navigate any more conversation. Connor stole a few glances at you in the rearview mirror. If you knew why, maybe it would be less unsettling.
When you arrived back at the station, Gavin adamantly ignored you. Which, ultimately, could've been worse. You practically glued yourself to your desk for the rest of your shift, reviewing everything you could on the case.
It wasn’t until the last few people trickled out that you felt a hand fall onto your shoulder. You snapped your head up, realizing it was only Hank and Connor left. “Go home and rest... or whatever it is you do. We’ll see you when our paperwork gets approved.”
Connor gave you a concerned look. You fought the urge to yawn, trying to appear less exhausted than you were. You hummed in agreement and shouldered your bag as you left the station.
Fatigue overwhelmed you the minute you unlocked the door to your motel room. The new schedule would take some time for your body to get used to. That was, if you got used to it.
The sun had already set by the time you finished your report to Perkins. Your back ached from sitting in the same spot for hours. You stretched out on the couch, earning yourself an hour or two of sleep before you heard a sharp knock at the door. You groaned as you stood, moving to look through the peephole. The hallway was empty.
“Agent? It’s me, Connor.” You turned. His voice came from the other side of the living room. Three more knocks rattled the back door. Panic settled over you. You rushed to gather anything that would make the room seem 'lived-in'.
You yanked the curtain back. Connor stood outside, soaked from the rain, blue LED piercing through the dim light. He appeared to be entirely unperturbed by the circumstance. At least you weren’t being robbed. “Detective? Why are you on my balcony?”
“I tried the front door, but there was no answer. Can I come in, please?”
You stepped aside and opened the door for him, peering over the balcony as he moved past you. Three stories down, Hank’s car lights reflected off the wet pavement.
“I hope I didn't disturb you. You're needed on a case. When you didn't answer the door, I concluded that this was the next best option.”
“Climbing up three stories was the next best option?” You waved him off, handing him a towel from the bathroom.
He dried his hair, only letting it be unkempt for a second before immediately taming it. “We’re preparing to stake out Old Jericho. Detective Reed was supposed to notify you, but he arrived at the scene without you.”
Great.
“I won’t need to go the same way you came up, right?” You slipped on your shoes and fastened your vest. “Oh, remind me to bolt that door next time.”
Connor’s lips turned up, amused. “No, that won’t be necessary.”
You followed him down the narrow hallway, trying to replicate the way he walked as best you could: perfectly straight, never an unnecessary movement. Past the lobby and into the parking lot, you climbed into Hank’s car and took residence in the back seat.
“Is this gonna be a habit of yours, kid? You can’t keep breaking into people’s places like that!”
“It worked,” Connor replied, “Did it not?”
“Smartass. You gotta quit pulling that shit," Hank scolded.
“Yes, Lieutenant.”
Story for another time, you guessed.