Work Text:
Hank was sat at the kitchen table, nursing a mug of coffee between his hands. On a rare moment of peace for the two; a Saturday morning, mid-December, he took the time to appreciate not having to get up early for work. not having to do endless paperwork, go to crime scenes where the perpetrator usually ended up having been hiding in the attic/cupboard/kitchen all along. Just a moment of quiet. A moment to—
“Hank!”
He groaned. A moment was a moment only— ready to be broken by an android who was definitely not wearing two strings of tinsel round his neck for fun, right?
“I was thinking about when we decorated at the start of the month. I like the tinsel but—couldn’t it use a little more?”
“We are not getting any more tinsel.”
“Oh, I know. I was just researching Christmas decorations and apparently, people use more than tinsel and decorating the tree. They have little Christmas knick-knacks and such. Lights, ornaments… Now, I haven’t much money to my name, and I don’t expect to go out on a shopping spree. But the Detroit…”
Connor carried on. Hank, only halfway through his morning coffee, tuned out the rest. He did care about what he had to say. Probably. It was just… a lot of words. Very early. He got the gist however: something or other to do with Christmas. Again. The android had gone all out for his first Christmas and whilst Hank enjoyed the company during the season, if he heard one more thing about tinsel, he might strangle himself with it.
“…so? Will you go with me?”
“Huh?”
“I… thought you weren’t listening. Your eyes are glassed over, your grip on the coffee is lax…”
“Yeah, sorry. A lot of words. Uh, I think you want me to go somewhere with you, right?”
“Yes.”
“Uh… okay. I’ll go?”
Connor grinned. As if his plan all along had been to drone on and on until Hank was barely paying attention, in order to get him to mindlessly agree.
No. He wouldn’t do that, right?
“You’ll love the Detroit Christmas fair.”
He would do that.
****************************************
“How the fuck am I supposed to drive with all these lights everywhere?”
“It’s called the Christmas spirit, Hank.”
“It’s called a roadside distraction, is what it is.”
Connor rolled his eyes, sitting up straighter in the passenger seat. “You’ll love it once we’ve parked. I’ve heard the fair has all of these nice stands—small businesses, of course. Some sell hot cocoa.”
“You can’t use hot cocoa every time you want to apologise to me.”
Connor titled his head, eyes feigning innocence. “Apologise? Me?”
“One: you’re still wearing the tinsel around your neck. Two: you’re blasting Christmas music out’ve your ass again—”
“My internal speakers!”
Hank snorted. “Yeah, the ones built into your ass.”
“What is your fixation with the speakers being installed in my ass?”
“Cause the music is shit.”
Connor stared at him. “Was… was that a dad joke?”
“Yep.”
He turned up the music, All I Want For Christmas so loud now that Sumo could probably hear it back at home.
“You better turn that shit off when we get in public!”
“What? I can’t hear you over the—”
“YOU BETTER—”
He stopped immediately when he realised that they were in the car park of the Christmas fair. Which wad filled with people, all staring at the car which they could hear Mariah Carey’s dulcet tones and Hank’s shouting coming from.
“I can’t take you anywhere.” He groaned, turning the door handle.
“Correction: you’ve taken me to the Christmas fair.”
“You know what I meant—oh, you’re pulling that shit again. Pretending you don’t know what I mean.”
“I know. Isn’t it fun?”
Hank flipped him off, pushing the door shut. “You’re in a real mood today, you know that? Did you install a new sass programme?”
“No. I do recall something new happening yesterday… something at work…”
“Oh, you’re not still hung up about that.”
“Hmm. I do recall somebody taking the tinsel off my desk—”
“Connor—”
“—and throwing it in the shredder.”
“I already said I was sorry!”
“Say it to the shredder you destroyed!”
“I think I said that when Fowler made me pay for it.”
Connor chuckled, stepping away from the car. “That was funny. However, I’ll forget about it today. Since you agreed to come to the fair so nicely with me.”
Hank sighed. “Fine.”
“And maybe you’ll enjoy it!”
****************************************
The first stand they reached was the hot cocoa stand, and in the end… Hank decided the outing wasn’t so bad, after all. Having a warm drink between his hands made the tacky lights strung up every-fucking-where a little more bearable.
And, on the plus side, Connor had become more bearable too. Enthralled by the Christmas spirit of the fair, he momentarily forgot his tinsel-related grudge in favour of enjoying the atmosphere.
“Hank. The ornaments.”
“Huh?”
Connor shook his head, tugging on Hank’s arm to turn him around. “Look at them.”
“Oh.” As soon as he saw what Connor was talking about, he got the android’s interest. A whole stand filled with dog ornaments, each one in different Christmas wear, and with a wide selection of breeds.
“They have a Sumo!”
The lady at the stand chuckled at his interest. “I assume that’s your dog then, son?”
“Yes. My dog, Sumo. He’s a St Bernard.”
“I mean, I did get him first.” Hank weighed in. “But you know… Kid’s practically adopted him now.”
“Oh, I bet he has. I’m breeding puppies at home at the moment, and my friend’s daughter comes to see them all the time. They climb all over her, look at her like she’s the most exciting thing in the world.”
“What breed?” Connor asked quickly.
“Border collies.” The woman replied with a smile, pointing to the corresponding decorations. “Sweet breed, but a lot of work. You wouldn’t believe the amount of exercise they need.”
Hank laughed. “Well, I’m glad I got a lazy dog, then.”
“I might have chosen something more like a St Bernard, but Alice—my friend’s daughter—she chose them.”
“Well, kids can be pretty persuasive.”
Connor sent Hank a look, shaking his head before picking up one of the St Bernard decorations.
“Could I get this one, please…?” He stopped for a moment, unsure of her name.
“Of course. And it’s Rose, honey.”
“Okay. Thank you, Rose.”
A moment later, he had wrapped up in a brown paper bag the decoration. He went to walk away, looking back to Hank, but the man stopped him.
“I want to pick one out too. You go on ahead, I’ll catch up with you.”
When Connor nodded and went onto the next stand, he looked Rose up and down once more before continuing.
“I think I know you.”
“You do?”
“Yeah. Not, know you, know you, but I heard of you. Rose Chapman?”
She nodded. “That’s me. Heard good things, I hope.”
“Definitely. I work on the android taskforce at the DPD—you did some real good work before androids finally got their rights.”
“It was what needed to be done.”
“Yeah. I didn’t see that for a long time… but now it’s a lot different. I’m glad androids who needed help, had people like you lookin’ out for them.”
“It was hard. We had to leave near the end, actually, we’re living in Canada right now… But I thought I’d come back here for the holidays.”
Hank nodded, reaching out for one of the other St Bernard decorations, one wearing a Santa hat, turning it over in his palm.
“Sorry to hear that. Uh—I don’t think I introduced myself. I’m Hank. Uh, Hank Anderson. That over there, he’s Connor.”
Rose looked over to the android who was currently browsing through a bauble stand. “Yes. Your… son?”
Hank spluttered. “I mean, I, uh… It’s…”
“I thought so. Android and human relations, they’re—they’re new. But they’re just as beautiful as human connections. He means something to you.”
“Yeah. I mean, your initial observation was pretty right. Although he’s a kid, he looks like a grown man. I can’t exactly adopt him.”
“Why not?”
“What?”
“My friend, she’s an android, although in the same situation as you. Her daughter isn’t hers by blood but that’s how she sees her anyway: her daughter. They’re a lot closer now they’ve realised what they mean to each other. She’s adopted her.”
“Oh. You, uh, can do that? With androids?”
“Of course. It doesn’t have to be anything official.”
“Okay.” Hank stopped, looked back down at the decoration in his hands, chuckling. “Didn’t expect to come away from here with anything more than a decoration.”
“Well, I’m happy to help, Hank. And I think that kid sees you the same way.” She pressed a few buttons on the register. “Will you be paying by cash or card?”
“Uh, cash…” Taking the bag in his hands, he stepped back, before stopping again. “Maybe we’ll have to talk more about this. About, uh, me an’ Connor. And your friend.”
“Are you asking for my number?”
“…I guess that’s the only way we can talk.”
“Unless you want to stand out here all day. Here.” She scribbled it down, handing the piece of paper to him. “Now, have a nice day! Text me when you’ve sorted the adoption papers!”
Hank laughed, stepping away from the stand, glancing about before he found Connor. Maybe Rose was onto something. And maybe he wouldn’t have to be so grouchy this Christmas, after all.