Safe Word - 04

AN: Standard Disclaimer! I own nothing (though I would totally save up for a Connor model...)

Inspiration Soundtrack: "Chalkboard" - The Theory of Everything Soundtrack

The rest of the investigation moves in a familiar pattern: evidence is gathered, witnesses are interrogated, and Connor is...well, Connor.

But still not Connor.

The dichotomy is killing you with each word that comes out of his mouth, like tiny cuts that are bleeding you slowly to death.

You leave the scene to head back to the precinct as soon as you are able, not giving a damn what Captain Fowler might say. Davison had no heirs, nobody was going to be calling to harass you about justice or revenge on the suspected killer.

Well, nobody but the media anyway. Android murderers were still rare enough that the nightly news would sniff it out like sharks on a chum slick.

Blasting the radio to damaging levels to jam out your frustrations would have probably helped a great deal, but you can't leave Connor behind at the scene unsupervised.

Fucking regulations.

You prepare yourself to suffer through another awkward car ride, but the android seems deep in his own troubling thoughts and doesn't try to start a conversation.

The flickering amber glow of his LED tugs at your conscious, but you're still not ready. You figure that any talk at this point will just make things worse.

When you arrive back at the station, you head for the evidence archive. It is the one place you take the time to get your head on straight before you do something unforgivable.

A few hours later, your evidence paperwork is finished and you can't hide any longer.

You had hoped the quiet would help settle the tangled mess inside your head, but it seems just as confused as it was before. The only progress you've made is that you don't feel like you are going to rip someone's head off if they look at you wrong.

Though brutalizing Reed might be worth the suspension...

Ashamed at how out of control you've been, you slink back to your desk with your head down and try not to catch anyone's attention.

He's right. He's just a machine. Why is it so hard for me to-

A steaming mug appears at the edge of your vision.

"I observed that your beverage had cooled to room temperature and thought you might like a new one."

Your throat closes, but you manage a weak: "Thank you."

"If...I may impose on you for a moment, Detective?"

It really isn't his problem that things are so fucked up right now, you can afford to give him a minute.

Damn it! Stop being such a fucking drama queen!

"...Sure."

"I feel I should apologize for the distress you're experiencing. I did not anticipate such a...visceral reaction to my replacement."

Visceral. Yeah, that about sums it up.

"It's...it's not your fault. You're...just not the Connor I knew."

"No, I am not." The android's LED glows yellow and, just for an instant, you think he looks a little sad. "However, I wanted to say that I am...pleased...to be working with you. I hope, one day, you will...hold me in as high regard as my predecessor."

You can't think of what to say, so you simply stare at him as guilt crushes you even further into your chair.

Taking your silence as dismissal, Connor drops his gaze to his shoes and nods goodbye with a soft: "Thank you for your time, Detective."

Your stomach is in knots as you watch him walk away.

"Was that bastard bothering you again?"

"Reed...give it a rest."

"I'm serious. If that plastic piece of crap thinks-"

"Reed. Enough."

Something in your voice tells Gavin you're serious and, for once, he gives you what you ask for.

Absently, you reach out and pick up the coffee mug Connor had brought. It's shaped like a spotted cow with four little pointed feet and the tail curled into a handle. The cartoonish expression on the creature's face made it secretly your favorite.

The first sip is hard to swallow past the lump in your throat, but you make the effort as a way to accept Connor's peace offering.

It's perfect.

Wait.

You take a second mouthful of the hot liquid.

Too perfect...

"Where is Connor?" you demand out loud, practically knocking your chair over as you jump up.

Reed gives you a confused look over his datapad. "The Plastic Fantastic went into interrogation with Anderson. Wh-HEY!"

You rush down the hall past the Captain's office to the pair of locked doors used for suspect processing. Not knowing which room Connor would be in, you take the safe bet and use your passkey to the observation side.

Inside the darkened room, Chris and two other officers look at you in surprise. The immediate pang of disappointment that Connor isn't among them vanishes when you catch a glimpse of him through the two-way glass.

Unwilling to let him out of your sight again, you settle in to watch Connor work. You fob off the questioning looks from the others and stay focused on the android.

For twenty minutes you are practically vibrating as you watch Connor skillfully pick apart the Deviant's alibi. Like a shark circling in on its kill, he uses a combination of pressure and charm to manipulate his target into giving up exactly what he wants. By the time Connor is finished, the AJ700 is nearly singing her confession into his waiting ears.

But stellar police work is not all you see from behind the glass.

Gone is the stiff awkwardness he had when he arrived back at the precinct the first time. Connor's movements are relaxed, almost natural. You swear you've even see a smile tug at the corner of his mouth.

He doesn't just seem more human, he seems familiar.

With the interrogation wrapping up, Hank and the other officers gather what they need and march Julie to the holding cells.

As you hoped, Connor is the last to leave the room.

"Can we talk a moment, please?" you call, making him pause.

"Of course."

You beckon him into the empty observation room and lock the door to keep your conversation from being disturbed.

"What do you need, Detective?"

He looks at you curiously, but his calm exterior is betrayed by a nervous twitch of his fingers.

"I want to talk to you about the coffee."

"Coffee? It is a caffeinated bev-"

"Not coffee! My coffee. The one you gave me earlier."

"Ah. Was it not satisfactory?"

"There are fifteen different mugs in the break room. What made you pick the cow?"

"I am...unsure," Connor blinked for a moment. "It seemed an adequate size and amusing design. I was...trying to cheer you up."

You swallow the jumble of hope and disappointment caught in your throat as you ask the next question: "How did you make the coffee?"

"I followed the instructions on the machine-"

"No," you say sharply. "How did you make my coffee, Connor?"

He hesitates. "I filled the mug with seven ounces of black Arabica Dark Roast, one half ounce of low-fat dairy creamer-"

"And?"

"And...two drops of Madagascar vanilla extract from the storage cabinet."

Your chest hurts and you feel light headed.

"Why did you add the vanilla?"

The LED at his temple burns a steady amber as he looks at you. "I remembered that is how you like your coffee."

"You remembered that?"

"I...have spent a portion of this afternoon trying to access the memories uploaded by my predecessor," he shifts his weight nervously, as if afraid of your disapproval. "Many humans have distrust, fear or hatred for androids. However, you and Lieutenant Anderson seem to have been...attached to the other Connor. I wanted to know why."

"And?"

"CyberLife has restricted the majority of the information, but I was able to access some memories from a temporary cache that had not yet been purged."

"What's your conclusion?" you ask quietly, not daring to breathe.

His eyes are black in the dim lighting of the computer console, sending a shiver down your spine. "After viewing the recorded interactions, I have concluded that he...that I...was much more than just an android to you..."

A sound that could have been a sob crawls up your throat. "Yes."

"I...cannot be him, Detective. But I...I would like to be."

"You'd like that?"

Your emphasis seems to make him realize the magnitude of his word choice, but Connor doesn't back down. "...Yes."

You lunge blindly forward to wrap your arms around him, not able to speak through your tears.

The android stands awkwardly as you cry onto his chest but, after a long moment, you feel him tentatively return your embrace.

"I am sorry, Detective. I had intended to cheer you up and it appears I have made you more distressed."

"It's ok," you sniffle. "This is a happy cry."

"Oh..."

He still looks pensive, so you lean in to kiss his cheek in reassurance.

That is what you intended at least.

Connor had felt you rise up onto your toes and turned his head to see what you were doing, making his mouth accidentally line up with yours.

The shock of feeling his soft lips sends an explosion of tingles down your spine. You gasp and, for a moment, you can't think past the idea that you have now actually kissed the handsome android you had been crushing on for months. "I-I'm sorry...I..."

The LED on his temple is flaring scarlet, but he hasn't stepped away or said a word.

He hasn't taken his arms from around your waist either.

"Connor?"

He blinks slowly, as if in a daze. "Detective?"

"Are you ok?"

"Detroit Police Department regulations prohibit intimate relationships between officers and subordinate staff on the grounds of nepotism and ethics violations."

The foolish hope you harbored that he had similar feelings for you crashes to the bottom of your stomach along with the wreckage of your heart.

Just a machine...

Before you can break away in shame, he speaks once more: "That is why I am very glad to be excluded from this ruling as I am not on the department payroll..."

Afraid that you misheard him, you hold your breath. "So you...you don't mind that I...?"

"I found it quite...pleasant."

"Pleasant? Oh...well...I guess that's good?" You are surprised that the room isn't getting brighter from your flaming embarrassment. "I've wanted to kiss you for a long time."

You peer up at his handsome face and see something that makes all the rest seem unimportant.

"Detective?"

"Yeah?"

"May I kiss you again?"

"Yes, Connor...I think I'd like that very much."

AN: Awwwwwww! Fluffy fluff! I love comments and reviews and critiques and recipes and whatever you want to message me about what you think!