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Hank shuffled into the break room with empty mug in hand as he suppressed a yawn. More than a year since his very own walking, talking alarm clock had moved into his house, and he was still having a hell of a time adjusting to the new schedule. Hank didn’t care what Connor said: six-thirty was not an acceptable time to be awake for any reason, least of all so he could haul his ass work. The most recent case didn’t help much either. It was turning out to be a real beast to crack, even with two computer-brained detectives to help him out. Hank had been staring at case files all morning, and had only gotten up when his vision started to swim. He needed a fucking break, and damn if that coffee machine wasn’t looking like a little piece of heaven right about now.
He all but stumbled past the tables in the center of the room, and idly acknowledged Tina standing at one of them with a disgruntled nod. It was weird: Hank knew that the other officer did work—he’d seen her at her desk plenty of times—but no matter what time of the day it was, whenever he entered the break room, she was there. It was like she existed in two places at once. Which… yeah, weird. But Tina had always been a bit strange. It would honestly explain a lot if she could bilocate or some shit.
Tina eyed him as he made a bee-line for the coffee machine.
“You look like shit,” she said.
Hank just grunted as he reached the counter and punched in a few commands on the machine. He needed some strong-brew espresso today—preferably enough to alarm his android partner. If Connor didn’t warn him about heart palpitations when he returned to his desk, then it wasn’t enough caffeine.
He watched the coffee begin to drip slowly into the cup and rolled his neck with a wince. Damn, he was tired.
“Tough case?” Tina’s voice asked behind him. He half-turned to look at her, then nodded with a grimace.
“Yeah,” he said. “This one’s a real pain in the ass. I’ve been scratching my head over it all morning and haven’t gotten anywhere.”
“What about RoboCop and the Terminator?” she asked.
Hank smiled grimly.
“Last I checked, they both looked like they were about to blow a fuse. I guess having a supercomputer for a brain can only get you so far, huh?”
“I wouldn’t know,” Tina replied. “I’m dumb as shit on a good day.” She took an obnoxiously loud sip of her own coffee. “Still makes me smarter than Gavin, though.”
Hank snorted a laugh, then fell silent as he waited for his coffee to be finished. When the last drop had settled into the mug, he lifted it to his mouth and took a long swallow.
Fucking nectar from the sky. Even that first sip perked him up a bit, and he felt his brain begin to emerge from its fog.
Tina grinned at him over the rim of her cup. “That good?” she asked.
Hank nodded as the blissful warmth of the beverage settled in his stomach.
“Oh yeah,” he said.
He leaned back against the counter, settling in to enjoy his drink before returning to the shit-show in the bullpen. He stayed that way for a full minute before Connor entered the break room, the tall form of Shiloh trailing along behind him.
The RK900 had been a more recent addition to Hank’s strange little family. Markus had discovered him a few months back in some shady sub-basement of the gutted CyberLife Tower, and had contacted Connor immediately. Hank hadn’t been there, but apparently between the two of them, they’d managed to make Shiloh deviate almost instantly upon his awakening. Then of course, Connor being Connor had brought his larger twin home with him like some lost puppy and had begged Hank to let him stay. Hank couldn’t very well have said no—not with Connor giving him those big doe eyes and the RK900 looking more lost than fucking Waldo on his front porch.
It had all turned out for the best. Shiloh was a good kid, and Hank honestly couldn’t picture life without him. He was quiet and had a hard time expressing himself, not to mention that he stuck to Connor like glue every second of every day, but he was as much a part of Hank’s family now as Connor was.
The two androids walked into the break room, Connor looking a little irritated, and Shiloh dead neutral as always, though his LED spun a contemplative yellow. Hank glanced at them in surprise. It was rare to see either of them step away from a case before it was solved.
“You two alright?” he asked.
Connor frowned, stopping to stand at Tina’s table and tapping a finger against the top of it with an audible click, click.
“Captain Fowler ordered us to take a break,” he said.
Hank snorted and took another long drag from his coffee.
“Not a bad idea,” he said. “We’ll all go cross-eyed if we stare at those files any longer.”
Behind Connor, Shiloh’s LED flickered briefly, the hint of a frown touching his lips as he pressed two fingers up against the corner of his eye.
“Figure of speech, Shiloh,” Hank said. Shiloh dropped his hand, and the slight twitch of his eyebrows read as sheepish to Hank. He was getting better at interpreting the RK900’s micro-expressions.
“Androids don’t require breaks,” Connor went on, ignoring the short exchange. “Each second we spend away from this case is a second the perpetrator gets farther away.” He went on tap-tapping the tabletop, frowning at the floor in thought.
“Look,” Hank sighed, “I get where you’re coming from, Connor. Hell, I’m as frustrated as you are! But you can’t just force your brain to do all that work without letting it relax—even if it is a million times better than anyone else’s.”
“Yeah,” Tina chimed in, “just look at me. I’m doing absolutely nothing right now and I feel great.”
Twin heads turned to face Tina, each one giving her a look. Connor had the barely-restrained annoyance of a man who desperately didn’t want to be polite anymore, and Shiloh… Shiloh was blank as usual, but his unblinking, ice-blue stare was enough to make Tina raise her hands in surrender.
“Okay, okay!” she said. “I get it. Don’t listen to Tina. Bad idea.”
“I appreciate your thoughtful insight, Officer Chen,” Shiloh replied, the sincere tone making it that much more patronizing.
Hank coughed, bringing the two RKs’ attention back to him.
“Anyway,” he said, “the point is that a break will you do you some good. Take a breather, don’t think about the case for a while, then come back to it with fresh eyes.”
“Yes, but…” Connor started uncertainly. Hank put his coffee on the counter and took a step forward to place his hand on Connor’s shoulder.
“I know you wanna catch this guy, kid,” he said. “But running yourself ragged isn’t going to solve it any quicker, trust me.”
Connor still seemed torn, his LED yet to settle back to its calm blue. Shiloh appeared similarly conflicted, though of course none of it showed on his face. Well, they’d asked for it…
“If the two of you don’t take break, I’m gonna have to lock you both up in the holding cells,” he said sternly.
Connor’s head snapped up, his LED spun red for a cycle, and even Shiloh jolted. Tina raised her eyebrows.
“What—Hank, I—Why?” Connor stammered, eyes wide. Hank let the moment drag for a few silent seconds before a shit-eating grin spread over his face.
“For resisting a rest.”
A beat passed, and then Tina groaned.
“Ugh, that was bad, Hank!”
Hank bit back a laugh. He was quite proud of that one, actually—especially considering it had just come to him in the moment.
Connor blinked, LED cycling yellow a few times before settling to that placid blue Hank had been looking for. One corner of his mouth raised in a smile, and his irritated expression melted into something that looked almost…
Wait… was that pity?
Hank’s triumphant grin fell as his little shit of a partner reached over and patted his arm.
“That was very good, Hank,” he said. Hank opened his mouth to tell him to fuck off, but he was cut off as Shiloh frowned and said, “I do not understand.”
Connor actually had the gall to turn around and look at Shiloh with an infinite patience that made Hank’s skin crawl.
"It was a joke, Shiloh,” he said. “‘A. Rest.’ Two words.”
The light on the side of the RK900’s head settled to that same infuriating shade of blue and he nodded, his face once again blank.
“Ah. I see,” he said, his voice completely devoid of emotion. “That is indeed humorous.”
Tina gave vent to a loud snort, clapping both hands over her mouth to keep from spewing her drink. Hank just snatched up his coffee with a quiet humph and stalked out of the room, all the wind forcibly yanked from his sails.
So much for his joke. He was getting back to work on this stupid case.
Fucking androids.