Chapter Text
The first time you two met wasn't exactly unique or rom-com worthy. Not really.
It was a pretty normal day in Detroit, with its slightly clouded sky and a hint of cold --- a ghost haunting from the previous season --- that was too strong for spring and too weak for the judicious temper of winter. That day, your desk was a little messier than normal, a little messier than you'd like it to be --- which was normal in the precinct due to the workload distributed. You were capable enough to believe you could finish it before the end of the day, yet the sheer volume and magnitude of space it took up on your desk left you a little demoralised. While you triumphantly had finished 2 cases already, this third one was...proving to be a little more difficult to get through. Not hard, just tedious. And tedious was boring. So boring you were looking for an excuse to get up from your desk and feast your mind on something more...interesting. you looked up from your terminal and around you. Everyone looked just as slow as you were, awake but unmotivated. You could hear pockets of conversation throughout the bullpen, soft and engaging. Fun, it sounded, or at least more fun than you were having.
But then, as your eyes scanned through the mist of faces of your coworkers, you saw a brand new face. Your eyes widened unconsciously at this new discovery. The new guy looked "polished" for lack of a better word. Like he belonged there. Smooth, casual yet professional; wearing an ironed shirt, black tie and a fine grey jacket (with some lettering you couldn't quite decipher, possibly a brand?). His hair was mostly slicked back neatly, a tempting curl near his forehead. Polished. He looked quite young, and as much as it ached you, you found this newbie cute. Even swoonworthy. You shook your head in repulsion and disbelief at your own uncontrolled feelings. You gazed back at him, and his brown eyes were focused on the pile of paper on his desk, which was next to Lieutenant Hank Anderson's. You noticed the two seemed to partake in light conversation. This was a very good excuse to not do your work.
So you confidently, with a proud (and hopefully friendly) smile trotted up to them. As you approached them, you noticed that the new guy noticed tou first, before Hank, setting his doe eyes on you. Looking up at you in an expression you couldn't quite understand, though you noted his eyes were calm and his mouth was slightly upturned. Hank, comically contrasting, looked at you with eyes clouded with sleepiness that could quickly turn to irritation --- which made you decide to lead the conversation.
You placed your hand on a small, clear part of the desk quietly yet firmly and you mustered an inspiring smile that could lead crowds towards victory. You leaned in just a little. "Well Hank, you've yet to introduce me to this new face"
Hank hesitated and placed his face in his hands, seemingly in...embarrassment? "Ah, well, he's uh, my new er partner", he rambled as you were about to ask further, the newbie himself interjected.
"My name is Connor, I'm an android sent by Cyberlife to assist investigating cases. I work with Lieutenant Hank here"
Oh? You blinked twice and leaned an inch or two closer to Connor. Looking closely he did seem a little bit too, uh, perfect? Machine-y? Also, you quickly noticed that the lettering on his jacket was not a brand but rather his model. A bold "RK800".
You smirked, "Wow technology is getting so good", you say with a hint of excitement. You can't help but be amused; you take your hand out for a handshake in Connor's direction, which seems to take him by surprise as you see his features slightly express it for a split second. He takes your hand strongly "I'm ______ "
He smiles back. It's pretty, and it makes your heart flutter a bit. You pull your hand back after a second or two and turn to Hank, who seemed to spectate the exchange with a curious yet tired gaze.
You tease him. "You look excited"
"Shut your mouth"
Seeing his less than cheery mood (not that he ever is) you decide to give him a little mercy this early in the morning. You chuckle and swiftly turn away, waving your hand up as you leave. "See ya"
As you walked away, Hank sighed.
"She was very friendly" Connor says after a few seconds of silence. And while Hank nods in acknowledgment, he doesn't notice that Connor's systems are a tiny bit more buzzed, that is, he's a little happier. How could he not be? Compared to the constant abuse and questionable nicknames he gets from the detectives, your friendliness was, well, a metaphorical breath of fresh air. The extent of his presence in the department was at best getting a hesitant nod, a smile that didn't quite reach the eyes and at worse a barrage of insults with the odd physical threat from Detective Reed thrown in. And while feeling was not exactly normal for Connor, the whole interaction made him feel a little brighter. His systems were slightly more excited for some reason, something he couldn't quite figure out. He supposed it was from the positive outcome, as making positive relations in the bullpen was a good thing and while he didn't say it out loud, Hank also wanted Connor to find friends outside of himself and Sumo.
"Yeah, _____'s always like that", Hank says, unsurprised. "If you were a little luckier, we'd be on the same cases"
"I'm...sure I will see her plenty whilst we are doing paperwork"
There was a thud from Hank hitting his head on the table (luckily shielded by his hands) as he groaned. "Ugh...paperwork"
"Come on, Lieutenant"
______
Even though hours had passed and the pile of papers on their desks was steadily decreasing, Hank's mood did not improve. Matter of fact, Connor noticed it was getting gradually worse per minute. His breathing deepened (his heart rate got lower), his responded got less controlled and more sassy until eventually any effort from Connor to make conversation or even asking a question was met with a tired (and angry) groan or gente. It got to a point where even Connor was somewhat concerned for him.
With a little over an hour left until lunch, Connor came up with a very simple solution.
"Lieutenant, I notice you seem groggy. Shall I bring you some coffee and biscuits so you may get more energised?"
Hank froze. A coffee sounded nice, that caffeine might help him. Sweet treats from the office? Absolutely. Even better yet, a break from Connor's iron rule that forced him to get through innumerable sheets of paper. The decision was clear-cut.
"Yes...", Hank responded meekly. Connor nodded and stood up from his chair, careful to avoid knocking the piles on his desk. He made his way to the breakroom without looking back.
Which was grey, a few chairs and a lonely table furnishing a corner. On the far wall, there was a long counter with all the necessary "components", a microwave below a row of cabinets, a long China plate with several types of biscuits, and the coffee machine...which you were in front of, seemingly messing with.
Connor tentatively came closer, so smoothly that you didn't notice until he was almost next to you.
You turned to him with a tiny jump and a slightly bewildered expression, by which he pieced together that you were not expecting him to be there. "Ah! Hi Connor"
"Hello Detective _______"
You threw your hands in front of you in embarrassment. Nobody called detectives here by their titles unless they were civilians, who calls their coworkers by their full honorifics? "Please, just call me ____", you said awkwardly.
"Okay, ______", he nodded, "Are you having problems with the coffee machine?"
It was quite embarrassing to be caught struggling against a simple appliance, considering you were a full-on criminal detective. The dust on the ground became suddenly very, er, intriguing. "Yeah, it's just", you turned to look at the coffee machine, "it's not working at all. It's making noises but nothings coming out."
For a full 5 seconds, you saw Connor just gaze at the machine, studying it intently. Then he stepped closer (you rushed out of the way) to it and he took a component, a piece of it and held it in his hand. He inspected it, twisting it and tilting it from one side to another carefully. You watched as he peeked inside of the machine itself, enlightened by the LED that glowed blue on his temple. Before you knew it he put the component inside again with a strong clack and placed the nearest cup (your white Costa cup) inside, then pressed a button softly. Sure enough, the coffee was pouring out of the machine luke normal.
You stated at the whole ordeal in amazement. Sure, he hadn't discovered a new continent, but for an android Detective, he was pretty darn good at fixing things (unlike you, seeing as you'd been trying to fix it for longer than you'd like to admit). That was...cool! Or well, certainly the coolest thing you'd seen all day.
You rushed to see it closer, even taking the cup in your hands and sipping it a bit, in disbelief. It was working! Ugh, yes, about time you could go rest properly instead of looking foolish in the breakroom attempting to fix some appliance.
Hence, you couldn't help but smile as you looked at Connor beside you, who looked back at you with the same calm expression he'd had earlier in the morning. Your pleasure might've seemed a little "much", but you genuinely found joy in this small miracle-like act. You looked at him happily.
"Thanks a million, Connor. You're amazing!"
And then you trotted off, giving him a small glance full of bright cheer as you promptly disappeared out of the breakroom.
The rest of the morning was fairly average. The rest of the day was pretty mundane. For you, the world kept spinning just the same, but that couldn't be said for a Connor.
In fact, this whole interaction had caused Connor's mechanical heart to jump, which was physically impossible. Actually, he himself felt oddly energised, jittery, though he stood frozen for a full minute after you left. A full minute trying to keep his composure, even though he could feel himself mysteriously burning blue. A full minute experiencing the greatest feeling he'd ever felt. A feeling that felt oh so good. He caught himself smiling bashfully, before quickly recollecting himself and getting Hank his coffee and biscuits. Perhaps coldly he decided not to pay it any further attention. Positive interactions with others were....well, positive.
When Hank saw Connor approaching, he sighed. "Break time over", he muttered under his breath --- to which Connor was oblivious to. Hank, in turn, was oblivious to the events that had just transpired; if he had seen it, then Connor would've been completely unprepared to his reaction (despite his great prediction skills).
The cups were set down gently on the desk and Hank mumbled a "thanks" which Connor did pick up on and smirked in response to.
The rest of their day was uneventful on paper. Signatures, cross-examining, Hank's sassiness, the works. But Connor couldn't help but think about what he felt on that breakroom. What you made him feel.
For a second, against his programming, he wondered. He wondered whether he'd feel that again.
He most certainly would.