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It was a dim September day. Raindrops splashed down at the Earth with a shattering pop. Clouds were in sight and showed no signs of unblocking the sun. If today were a person, it would be none other than Hank Anderson. Gloomy and unexpected. Today was just another day for Hank and an important day for the officers in the department, but it was a memorable day for the RK800, Connor. Today was Hank's 54th birthday. He came up with various ideas on how to celebrate his birthday. Although Hank wasn't a big fan of parties, the department would still throw them anyway.
"Good morning, Hank," Connor says in greeting, drawing out the words as he sets down the expected coffee on the side of his keyboard with a quiet snap. Connor goes to his desk, feeling the smile sneak onto his face as Hank reaches for his offering. His fingers curl around the cardboard sleeve, pulling at the little lip where the sleeve ends.
"Morning, Connor," He takes a tentative sip of the coffee, the liquid burning off some of his taste buds in the process. "You're looking awfully cheerful this morning."
"I guess you could say I'm cheerful," Connor muses. "We could also say excited or optimistic." Hank nods, trying to hide his growing smile behind the coffee cup's lid.
"What's put you in such a marvelous mood? It's September, and it's raining."
"Well…" Connor starts, quickly slipping into storyteller mode. "The day started with me waking a very special person... and then I made that same person French toast in bed before we disappeared into the brightly-colored sunrise."
"Except it was raining this morning," Hank reiterates, ignored as he continues his tale. "And the sky looked nothing like bright."
"Yes, it was," Connor hums in agreement, looking down at a handmade stuffed doll hidden between the desk and the metallic drawer. "Anyway, I'm just saying that my day's been pretty fantastic thus far. Remember, Hank, what day it is."
Connor tosses a grin at Hank, and his brows draw together in confusion. "September 6th. Bound to include several surprises."
Hank knows the meaning behind the day, of course. He had always made a point of insisting that the spirit of the wacky holiday was unexpected actions and had been infused into his very being. Connor couldn't argue with his reasoning; since every behavior of Hank had the undertone of June in it. How much was 'in his blood' as opposed to an android amping up his natural charm and charisma? That had yet to be decided.
"Well, not too many, I hope," Hank sighs, propping his chin on his fist. "I'm old. My heart can't handle too much damn stress." Connor's slim fingers brush one of the voodoo doll's glassy eyes.
"What about excitement?" Connor asks. Hank doesn’t look away from the computer screen as he works through a game of Minecraft. He's been trying to figure out the trick behind the confounding game, and he's confident he has a handle on it now. Hank sits back, running a hand over his head with a groan.
"That too. I can feel myself cringe at the thought of excitement."
As if his words were able to trigger worldwide events, the phone on Hank's desk rings out, breaking through the buzz of activity on the floor. He cradles the phone on his shoulder, still clicking away at squares on the online game as he answers the call.
Connor can hear a little bit of the conversation as he leans closer to Hank's ear. He has never been able to understand why he doesn't just put the phone on the speaker; it would make hearing the details much more effortless. He suspects it has something to do with him actually enjoying the feeling of crowding Hank, but he knows better than to voice such opinions.
Connor felt his LED change to a vibrant yellow, having a new case reported to him. He blinks the message away, already collecting the information.
"Looks like you'll have to harden your heart, Hank. A case was just now reported," Connor puts his stuffed doll in his desk drawer, slamming it shut with a snap. He gets up from the wheeled chair, not forgetting to push it back into its signature place. When Hank doesn't move, Connor gives him an expecting stare, giving the lieutenant a little kick with the toe of his shoe. "There's no time to waste—your present opening is in two hours."
Sighing, Hank springs up, grabbing the coffee he left on his desk, following Connor over to the glass doors. "This is not the birthday present I was hoping for."
Connor smirks slightly, running his finger along the edge of Hank's plastic lid. "Oh. It's your birthday? I had no idea."
"Now that's just mean, Connor."
~
The conference room is crowded; some people have spilled into the precinct bullpen. Some of them were there just for the free food and beer. The ones that really cared about Hank were sitting around the dark conference table.
He grabs a beer, taking the seat at the head of the table even though it also held the most uncomfortable chair out of the lot. He settles into the chair, shifting every two seconds in an attempt to find a comfy position.
"Here, lieutenant," Tina says, sliding a wrapped present down the glossy table toward Hank. "From Gavin and me. But mostly me." She gestures her thumb towards herself, making the Detective beside her roll his eyes.
Hank grabs the box before it falls off the table.
"Ooh. Co-gifting. Are we official now?" He asks, eyes darting between the two. Gavin bit into a tortilla chip after dipping it into the salsa bowl.
"Maybe we just didn't think you needed two presents, Hank."
"Sticking with my idea," he mutters, sliding a finger under the wrapping paper. He immediately replaces his old phone case with the gift from Tina and Gavin: a gray phone case with a little DPD seal with the words' Best Lieutenant Ever' written in the same gray tone as the seal.
"Oh, how nice of you two. This is the best present you've ever given me so far," He says the exact phrase like a broken record, not knowing what to say.
Connor's eyes dart toward Hank, but he's busy opening everyone's gifts, eyes averted with a beer bottle tucked into his elbow. Connor's present was missing from the small pile on the table, and he didn't want to read into it. Everyone else spent their time buying their presents from store-bought places. But not Connor. His present to Hank would be a stuffed doll version of himself. It's not something you can find at a shop; it's a unique, one-of-a-kind item that Connor created himself.
He's been thinking about one for a while now. It was about time his dream became a reality.
With everyone distracted to focus on Hank, Connor grinned as he opened the black drawer, taking out the doll, a single-sleeved arm, a roll of string, and a sewing pin. Setting the toy on the desk, he took a moment to admire his work. It was one hundred percent accurate, from head to toe, down to the finest detail! Every nook and cranny of Connor's figure was painted on the doll; everything except the eyes, which were with coffee-colored buttons. He noticed that it was slightly more significant than the size of his hand. The android, fascinated, ran his fingers along with the smooth texture.
Squashing the blue ball on the pin with his fingers, Connor picks it up, beginning to put the finishing part on Hank's soon-to-be favorite toy. He was sure Hank was going to love it.
~
It's been over an hour since Hank said he'd be back. It was several hours after his public party at the office. He and Connor were there for at least 30 minutes before Fowler bugged Hank about some paperwork he had forgotten. Hank was obviously pissed about it, and Connor offered to do it for him. But Hank went anyway. Connor's not starting to lose faith in him. He keeps telling himself that as he puts the chicken parmesan into Tupperware and stashes it in the cold refrigerator.
He said he'd be here tonight, he just had some things to finish at work, and it wouldn't take more than thirty minutes.
Hank could only blame traffic for so much of the delay.
"He'll be here," Connor whispers to himself as he sits on the couch, kicking his feet back and forth, poking the voodoo doll he's been working through in his free time. "He said he'll be here, so he'll be here." Still, the seed of doubt had been planted, and he could almost feel the roots starting to branch out. What if he didn't show up? Would calling him be overstepping, even if it was just to see if he was still alive?
No. Do not call him. He'll show up.
He sat back and hit the play button on the remote control. He had been on a classic movie kick and watching some romance film for half-hour intervals between putting extra perfections on his doll and stress cleaning. Connor figured he'd need to re-watch the movie to get the nuances of the plot down; watching in pieces sort of ruined the flow. The couple alternates between murmuring quiet words, pressing their cheeks against the other's, and engaging in kisses that last all of three seconds. Connor wasn't paying much attention to it, though.
He focused more on the doll before him, staring it down at every angle to look for imperfections. He was satisfied with the finished product, letting a sweet smile penetrate his lips. Perfect. When he heard the front door click, Connor covered the doll behind his back as he listened to a heavy bag collapse onto the hardwood floor—Hank holding the handle. Connor also watches as Hank ventures to his room, glancing over at him as he trudges.
Connor quietly sighs, letting his head fall against the couch's cushions. Crap. Hank looked tired, and he could sense the frustration from how he walked; no analysis was required. He pushes up off the couch just as Hank rounds the corner of the short hall. Following slightly behind him, Connor watches as Hank tiredly flops onto the bed, falling with a groan.
"Hello, Hank," The lieutenant's form silhouetted in the gentle glow from the lamp in the corner, "Did you have a pleasant time?"
Hank sighs, planting his hands in his face out of frustration. "Yup, more paperwork is just another pleasant thing to add to my already stressful day."
The android frowns. "I was talking about your party, Hank," Connor responded, causing Hank to facepalm mentally.
"Oh..." Hank says, dumbfounded, not finding the exact correct words to say. There weren't many. Saying he absolutely loved it when he didn't would be a straightforward lie Connor would be able to capture. Telling that he hated it—which he did—would undoubtedly put Connor in a sad mood because Hank didn't enjoy the day Connor cared a lot about. Hank decided to go with the neutral option.
"...It was fine. I guess," Hank said, shrugging his shoulders. "Besides the paperwork, it was fine." Connor's eyes soften hearing the four-lettered words. 'Fine' wasn't a positive response, he calculates.
"Just fine..?" The android's voice mellows into a disappointing tone, making Hank feel guilty. Shit, he had done it again, saying the wrong words and crap. Hank wasn't good at socializing with people without hurting their feelings in the slightest. He didn't care too much about how he talked to people, but he just had to be cautious with Connor. Maybe it was the tone of his voice that made him sound rude. Just one wrong word or tone, and Connor takes it the wrong way.
"No, uh. Don't get me wrong, it was great; I just..." Trying to find a better thing to say, Hank admits some of his dislikes. "I've had enough gifts and surprises for one day," Hank saw Connor's expression turn to sorrow as soon as he spoke the very first word.
"I understand," Connor speaks, eyes darting to the doll on the couch, "I guess you wouldn't want my surprise, then."
Wait... he had a surprise for him?
Obviously! How could he forget about Connor's obsessive care for him? It was his birthday, after all! Birthdays come with surprises, unfortunately.
As much as Hank hated surprises, he had to act fast.
"No! It's not like that I..." Half of Connor's form is revealed in Hank's vision. His hand was out, half of his face showing with a glint of shame in his eye. Connor watches as Hank tries to control his babbling. He stops, taking a deep breath.
"I...want to see your surprise," He said, even though it pained him to say it. He wouldn't want to destroy Connor's pride ever, and especially not now. Just as before, Hank's words changed Connor's expression—but this time, it was a look he could manage. The android's lips curled upwards, giving Hank a wave of relief to wash over him.
"Really? You truly want it?" Connor's voice quivers in excitement, already knowing the answer.
Hank nods.
Seeing this, Connor practically bounces in happiness. "Oh, I promise it won't disappoint you!" Hank struggles to smile at the android's frantic goofiness. "I'll go get it!"
Like that, Connor disappears around the corner, with quick footsteps muffled from the walls. Hank sat there, using the last bit of his patience to wait for his android friend. As fast as he left, Connor stepped into the doorway with something behind his back. His grin stretches from ear to ear as Hank sighs a breath of relief.
"Thank god it's not something huge. I wasn't in the mood for another set of people to hide around corners and crap,” Connor pursed his lips, rocking back and forth on his heels.
"Oh yes, my surprise is a lot smaller than that," Connor truthfully says, tilting his head. He recalls the time he and Hank were coming back from another case. As they walked inside, the bullpen was super empty, making Hank prepared for a massive group of people to jump out at him from behind the desks, around the walls, and whatnot. He knew it was going to happen but got 'surprised' anyway. His surprise reaction was a mix of cursing and almost having a heart attack. "...since I know how much you don't like people jumping out at you."
"So, does this mean we're good now?" Hank asks, still unsure if Connor is still sad. The android quickly nods, sealing it with a cheery 'mhm.'
"Yes, Hank, we are on good terms, now," Connor flashes Hank a small smile. "In fact, we were always in positive relations." Hank's brows furrow, trying to get what Connor was hinting at. Seeing that Hank didn't get his hints yet, he continues. "...I may have purposely acted sad just a few moments ago."
Then, it hit him, a gasp signaling the lightbulb that went off in his head.
"Wait, so you were faking it the whole time?!" Hank asks, surprised. Did Connor just play with Hank's feelings to make him fall into his trap? Yes, he did. Connor's cheeks tinted blue, lastly getting caught.
"Yes," Connor replies with a grin. Hearing Connor was okay made Hank sigh with relief and the tiniest bit of frustration. I can be very misleading, Hank."
"Connor! You had me thinking I almost made you cry... or something!" Connor couldn't help it; he broke out into a hearty laugh. His laugh was so terribly contagious that Hank found himself laughing as well. "D-Don't do that!"
Repeating it made Connor laugh even harder. He placed his free hand on his stomach to steady himself before he fell to the floor. He didn't ever remember laughing at all in his entire creation this way, and it was just so refreshing; he had never experienced something like this. As new as it was to him, it felt so breathtaking and serene. He didn't know how to describe it, but he knew he didn't want it to end, especially when Hank looked so happy when he laughed.
There were small wrinkles and creases in the corners of his eyes as he laughed his heart out. Hank even looked a little younger. When his laughter died down, he snickered to himself. As Connor's giggles quieted down, he returned to his professional, playful, toned voice. "Sorry, Hank. I hope I didn't alarm you too much."
Hank held up a hand as he let out a relaxed sigh. “It's fine," he retaliates. "I just can't stand seeing you upset."
Hearing this, Connor felt a fuzzy feeling in his chest. "It's nice to hear you sincerely care about me, Hank," The android once again smiles, tilting his head. He squeezes the toy behind his back, remembering its presence. "Now that we have that out of the way, would you like to see your surprise now?" Connor questions.
"Yeah...what is it?" Hank questions, trying to see what Connor is hiding. Upon hearing this, Connor bounces on his toes out of anticipation. He can't wait to show him the present he got. Call him a bit full of himself, but he was sure Hank would love this gift more than anyone else's.
"Well... you have to close your eyes first," Connor quietly says. Hank didn't think he heard Connor correctly the first time. He stares at the android in front of him in confusion.
"Uh... what?" Hank asks, suddenly feeling anxiety creep up on him again.
"I said..." Connor repeats, "You have to close your eyes first." Hank groans, not being prepared for this. He obeys, shutting his eyes and letting a blackness obstruct his vision. The only sound cutting through the thick chunks of silence was the noise of rustling clothing in front of him.
"Connor I swear if I open my eyes, and a bunch of people are in front of me, I'm gonna—"
"Okay... you can open them now!"
Hank opens his eyes, and what met him is surprising, as Connor stated for the 7th time. It wasn't a group of people ready to jump at him. Hank and Connor were still the only ones in that room. Instead, it was a small plush toy with every detail of Connor. Wow, it was quite a surprise. He grins sheepishly, still holding the toy in front of his partner's face. Hank took the toy out of the android's hands, lowering it onto his lap.
"Woah..." Hank's eyes widen, "Where did you get this?" Hank asks, lifting the plushie's stuffed tie. It felt soft under Hank's fingers as he gently squeezes it.
"I made it myself," Connor answers, enjoying Hank's amazement. "I hope you like it." Hank's expression stayed surprised, eyes glued to the doll.
"Uh," Connor was feeling a little embarrassed and was starting to regret creating the doll when he saw Hank was unresponsive, "I mean, a doll would be weird to give to a matured adult... I should have recognized it to be an unusual present—"
"Connor," Hank gently places down the doll before leaning over, wrapping both arms around the deviant. The gesture was one of a paternal instinct that somehow made the hug feel warmer than it should be possible. "It's one of the best surprises I've ever gotten."
As if stunned by the revelation, Connor slowly wraps his arms around Hank and reciprocates the hug just as tightly. He slightly frowns at the statement, recalling how it was the same thing he said at the department. And as if Hank could read Connor's mind, he reassures him. "...And I mean it this time. Really."
Hank felt Connor's smile widen as, according to his results, he honestly did. "Happy birthday, lieutenant."
Hank discreetly reaches his hand to pat the android on the back before he responds. "Thank you, Connor."