Work Text:
Connor enjoyed days off.
Days off meant he could do what he wanted, and since deviating, doing what he wanted had been an interesting pursuit. Connor had found many things he liked to do: He liked to clean, he liked to Garden, he liked to groom Sumo, he liked to draw. However, despite the eclectic gathering of hobbies, Connor found he also occasionally enjoyed relaxing on the couch with Hank and watching old movies until it got dark. He tried to incorporate as many of these activities as possible into his days off.
When Connor woke up, he would clean the house from top to bottom. Couch blankets would be folded and stacked nicely, dishes would be washed and put away, carpets would be vacuumed, clothes would be washed. It was genuinely relaxing, it was a way to quietly start his day as the sun rose before Hank woke up. After the house was cleaned, he would tend to his garden: a fairly large garden he had started cultivating in the backyard. Full of flowers, full of vegetables, he even had a few fruits and berries beginning to grow. He was making the space his own.
In truth, the space wasn't his own, it was Hank's. However, Hank had been more than willing to offer him a place to stay after the revolution, claiming that Detroit's homeless problem was already going to be growing now that there were so many new androids in need of housing. Despite Connor's many offers to sleep outside so as not to intrude, Hank had assured him it would be no trouble. Connor had been more than relieved.
Once the garden was watered and weeded for the day, Connor would return inside, wash up, and feed Sumo. Sumo would eat and Connor would groom him while he did, humming quietly to himself as he brushed the dog. Sumo would come out looking shiny and pristine, Connor would lint roll the dog hair off of his pyjamas: a simple oversized police academy shirt and sweats that Hank had generously donated for his own peace of mind, not enjoying the image of Connor sleeping on his couch in a suit and tie.
Connor had gathered a few different outfits, mostly picking up articles he liked from thrift stores, not many of his clothes were brand new. Hank insisted that brand new clothes were a waste of money, a lesson Connor had adopted into his own wardrobe. While he still chose to wear his suit each day to work, something Hank didn't always approve of, at least he could change things up if he wanted to, and that was what mattered to Connor at the end of the day. Choice. Freedom.
Once all of his daily chores had been completed, Connor would set out any ingredients necessary for Hank's breakfast and then relax on the couch. He would scribble mindlessly in his notepad as he waited for Hank to wake up, drawing whatever might come to mind. In reality, he could easily download some art programs from the CyberLife app store, but he found it more fun to learn things on his own nowadays. There was a sense of accomplishment in learning skills on his own that could only be found through hard work, and Connor was proving very quickly to be good at hard work. Or at least, he was better at hard work than he was at drawing. He would practice regardless.
He would draw until Hank staggered out of his bedroom in his robe, muttering about the sun and the weather and the traffic as Connor got to work on his breakfast. He would prepare a coffee for Hank, the lieutenant working through the coffee steadily while he read the news, Connor cooking happily in the background. However, one thing that Hank could never expect from his mornings was an absence of Connor's chatter.
"The weather looks like it's going to be particularly nice today," Connor began, cracking an egg against the side of his frying pan and dropping the contents into the pan. "Do you have any plans?"
"Nah, just gonna sit around," Hank grumbled, sipping his coffee and leaning back in his chair. "You gonna take Sumo out?"
"I plan to," Connor confirmed with a small smile, popping two pieces of bread into the toaster. "Will you be accompanying us?"
"Do you want me to?"
"The invitation always stands."
"I'll think about it. What's the rest of the day looking like?"
"It's August fifteenth, the forecast says today will be partly cloudy, sixty-eight degrees." Connor mused, plating Hank's breakfast perfectly. "You have no plans, you booked the day off work for the both of us."
"Oh shit!"
Connor eyed Hank curiously as the lieutenant coughed, wiping the coffee from his mouth as Connor cocked an eyebrow. Hank quickly stood, hurrying back to his room as Connor watched on in confusion.
"Your breakfast is-"
"I almost forgot!"
"Your breakfast is ready, Lieutenant."
Hank hurried back to the table, setting down something that Connor hadn't seen before. It was a small box wrapped with shiny, colourful paper, a ribbon on top catching Connor's attention with how neatly it was tied. Connor stared quizzically, furrowing his brow. It was a present, but there was no way that Hank could wrap something this neatly.
"What is this for?" Connor questioned, setting Hank's breakfast down on the table as he observed the gift.
"It's for you," Hank explained. "Happy Birthday, kid."
"Happy Birthday?" Connor echoed, raising an eyebrow. "Hank, I regret to inform you that I wasn't-"
"Born, I know, but you were made today, right?" Hank persisted. "So it's the closest you're gonna get to a birthday."
Connor couldn't help but smile slightly, Hank had remembered Connor's issuing date, something the android hadn't assumed he would retain. Hank had remembered and bought him something for the occasion. Hank was treating him like a person, a massive step up from their first interactions. It was the little things Hank did nowadays that reminded Connor how far they had come.
"Who wrapped this?" Connor chuckled, thumbing the ribbon in his fingers curiously.
"Gavin did it for me, I can't wrap for shit."
"Really? Detective Reed? This is wrapped masterfully."
"I know, right? Apparently the guy had a few sisters, got used to wrapping a fuckton of birthday presents. Handy."
"It's a skill I should pick up myself."
"Save it for later, open the damn box."
Connor gave a nod, making quick work of untying the ribbon. The wrapping was so perfect he almost felt bad ripping it, but his curiosity proved to be stronger than his morals in this situation. Carefully, he tore the paper away, lifting the lid off the box inquisitively.
"Tada."
Connor blinked, cautiously picking up the piece of paper at the bottom of the box and eyeing it over. It was some kind of certificate, some kind of affirmation. He read it aloud.
"This form confirms that Detective Connor Anderson," he began, his eyes widening as he continued to read. "Has been fully and officially recognized as an officer of the Detroit City Police Department-?"
"Happy Birthday, kid." Hank chuckled. "You're one of the big boys now."
"I-I'm a recognized officer?" Connor mumbled in disbelief, running a hand through his hair as he read over the paper again. "I'm official?"
"You're official, kid. Just as official as the human cops."
"H-How?"
"Fowler and I've been plannin' this one for a while." Hank snickered. "No more android detective bullshit, you're recognized. Badge and everything."
Connor could help the tears that sprang to his eyes as a quiet laugh of disbelief left him, this was real, he was just like any other human, any other person, he was officially recognized as a detective.
"You did this for me-?"
"Happy Birthday, Connor."
"Th-Thank you, Lieutenant," he stuttered out, not waiting another moment to throw his arms around the lieutenant.
"Hey, you can't keep me here forever, my breakfast is gonna get cold-"
"I'm just..." Connor began, chuckling quietly as he wiped his tears away. "Very grateful, L-Lieutenant. Thank you."
"No problem, kid. Happy Birthday to the best damn cop in the precinct."
"A-Appreciated."