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detroitwhatitmeanstobehuman · 5 years ago

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Chapter 6 - Shared Loss

Part 6/17 of What it Means to be Human

Word Count: 13,649

Warnings: Swearing, alcoholism, Russian Roulette, suicidal ideation, very suggestive banter (they’re in a sex club in this chapter, kind of expected), hardcore flirting, trauma-induced panic attack.

Genre: Self-insert/Angst

Pairing: OC (Detective Rachel) X Connor

Rating: Mature

Summary: After getting a report of a homicide at an android sex club downtown, Connor and Detective Rachel go out to look for Lieutenant Anderson so they can all investigate. After finding Hank, they depart to investigate the Eden Club and find more than what it initially appears on the surface. But the environment is ripe with opportunities for jokes and teasing, and Rachel takes full opportunity of it, not realizing that Connor can dish it back quite effectively.

First Chapter | Previous Chapter

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It was actually a pretty fun car ride! My anxiety didn’t even once cross my mind, since I was both texting Bianca and talking to Connor, also about Bianca. I made it a habit to text my sister every day, just so she’d know how I’m doing. Especially since I was living pretty much on my own, now.

She had moved back to Canada after we both lived in Detroit. She had pretty much only lived there because of me so she could help me. It was also the reason she worked at CyberLife before she eventually went back home.

She seemed pretty scared and worried when she heard that I was gunning to be in the police academy here. We both knew it was a tough job, but she also knew it was something I had to do. It gave me a sense of purpose, of making a difference, and I think she knew that I needed to keep myself busy that way.

So, she went back home. And I promised I would text her just so she’d know how I am. As much as sometimes I didn’t feel like it, I always did anyways. I think it helped me avoid some of the worst days. My depression after the accident was really really bad. I couldn’t blame her for being so worried. After all, we were kind of the only really close family we still had, save for cousins.

We’d always been really close, and we only became closer as we grew up.

And Connor was listening intently to me talk about her. Something I noticed about him ever since leaving my house was that he seemed to focus intensely on me whenever I spoke. As if he was trying to hang onto and record my every word. Even when I wasn’t really saying anything in particular, he still seemed to commit it all to memory.

I didn’t really know what to think of the gesture.

We looked for Hank at Jimmy’s Bar, but Jimmy said that he hadn’t seen Hank.

So, here we were at Hank’s house. Connor was standing next to me and started knocking on the door. “Lieutenant Anderson?” The android called. He then held the doorbell, the loud buzzer continuing on as Connor held it. Still no answer. “Anybody home?”

We waited for a few moments before I just shrugged. “Welp, he’s probably drunk.” I said, bending down. “Luckily for us, I know for a fact that Hank -” I then noticed Connor’s absence and looked around, not really seeing him. “Connor?” I called, confused. I sort of shrugged, flipping the doormat up and grabbing the house key, putting it into the keyhole and turning it, his lock giving way without much resistance. I had been at Hank’s enough times to know my way in and know that he wouldn’t really be surprised at my intrusion.

After stepping inside, I was immediately greeted by Hank’s adorable St. Bernard dog. “Hi, Sumo!” I greeted the dog sniffing at me, his tail wagging happily as I bent down to slip the key back under the doormat outside. Hank’s dog was as familiar with me as I was with Hank, as I sometimes dogsat for him. Once I closed and locked the door again, I started petting the dog. “I know, I’m happy to see you too, my sweet baby boy!” I said in that tone of voice I usually spoke to animals with. It was pretty damn near impossible not to baby talk at animals.

Suddenly, interrupting my moment with Sumo, I heard the sound of glass breaking, and snapped my head in its direction, Sumo and I rushing toward it. “Argh!” I saw Connor rolling through Hank’s window into the kitchen/dining room area, my eyes wide in disbelief. Sumo quickly went into attack mode, or at least as much as the sweet pooch could really be in, and went up to check Connor out. “Easy!...Sumo...I'm your friend, see?...I know your name...” Connor assured the dog. As much as I found it adorable how Connor reacted to the St. Bernard, I was more appalled at the fact that he jumped through the fucking window! “I'm here to save your owner.”

“What the Hell, Connor!?” I whisper-yelled at the idiot android.

“I’m sorry.” He said, getting up. “I had to get into the house.”

“Hank keeps a spare key under his doormat!” I informed him, gesturing exaggeratedly towards the front door. “Something I was about to tell you if you had just waited for like five seconds before deciding to break in! Because like Hell I’m having a homemade hysterectomy at his house!”

Connor looked a little embarrassed for a moment. “Oh.” Was all he seemed to say.

As Sumo walked back up to me, sniffing at my legs, I let out an exasperated sigh that was quickly undercut by an amused snicker. “We’ll deal with that later. First we gotta find Hank.” I then looked around. “Speaking of which, where - ?” My eyes then found Hank’s form unconscious on the floor.

And next to him was a revolver, laid on the ground carelessly.

I felt my heart stop and my blood go cold at the sight, and instantly my instincts kicked in as I rushed towards him, kneeling over him, Connor joining me by the man’s side. “Hank!” Oh God, please no! Please don’t be fucking dead! “Hank! Can you hear me?! Please say something!” I pleaded, shaking him, feeling my breaths growing rapid and shallow.

Connor was staying silent, likely analyzing the lieutenant for any signs of danger or injury. “Lieutenant?” He asked, quietly. His seemingly nonchalant attitude put me somewhat at ease, but I couldn’t tell if he was always like that, or if he could portray panic or sadness. Either way, his lack of reaction made me feel better.

Quickly, Hank mumbled and shifted a little, sort of babbling. I let out a sigh of relief and slumped against him. “Oh, thank God...you’re just drunk.” I then quickly recoiled at the overwhelming unpleasant stench of alcohol, almost stumbling backward. “Really drunk! Ugh, Jesus Christ! That is definitely one of the reasons I don’t drink. The other being that I have a debilitating fear of losing control of myself and my body and thus I have an intense discomfort at the thought of being inebriated.”

Connor then reached over and firmly patted Hank’s face, causing him to grumble and shift even more. “Wake up, Lieutenant!” He willed once again.

Sighing and feeling my heart rate go back to normal, I got back up and leaned against the table, trying to catch my breath, looking over at Connor. “He’s probably gonna need more than that.” I advised the android. “It takes a lot to get him going when he gets that drunk.”

Seemingly taking my advice, Connor nods. Although, much to my shock, he winds up and delivers a hard slap that makes me almost choke in surprise. “It’s me, Connor!”

I couldn’t help but laugh, both because Connor just deadass slapped the shit out of old man Hank, and because I wasn’t expecting him to just slap him like that. “Holy shit, I didn’t mean that much!”

But it seemed to work, as Hank was starting to actually stir, grumbling and groaning even more in his drunken state. Connor wasted no time pulling Hank up to his feet, much to the man’s drunken protests. “I'm going to sober you up for your own safety.”

“Hey!...Leave me alone, you fuckin' android!”

“I have to warn you, this may be unpleasant.”

Hank seemed to regard Connor for a moment before he started complaining again. “Get the fuck outta my house!”

I let out an exasperated sigh and just started pointing at him. “Hank, I know you’re in your fifties, but I will mom the shit out of you, so help me!” I warned him. “Connor’s gonna sober you up, and you’re gonna fucking like it, God damn it!”

“I'm sorry Lieutenant, but I need you.” Connor apologized, pulling Hank’s right arm over his shoulders and snaking his own left around Hank’s side under his other arm. “Thank you in advance for your cooperation.”

“Hey! Get the fuck outta here!” Hank droned on as Connor started dragging him towards the bathroom, Hank continuing to make a series of loud grumbles and noises that I honestly couldn’t help but find hilarious, despite the unfortunate nature of Hank’s alcoholism. “Sumo! Attack!” He ordered, getting nothing out of the dog but a quick bark. “Good dog. Attack!”

As Connor rounded the corner, taking Hank to the bathroom, I shook my head and sighed, heading over to where Sumo was laying down. As soon as I approached, the dog heaved himself back up onto his legs. I quickly sat down next to him, my legs crossed, and let him lay down on me, his large head resting in my lap. “I know, baby.” I said to him, scratching him behind his ears the way he liked it. “Daddy’s got problems, I know. I don’t like it, either.”

From the direction of the hallway leading into the bathroom, I heard Hank’s voice again. “Fuck, I think I'm gonna be sick...” The sound of a door hastily being opened immediately followed, along with another protest from Hank. “Ah! Leave me alone, you asshole!”

I couldn’t hear the rest of it, but I just rolled my eyes and shook my head, electing to just continue petting Sumo. He was a very good dog, and I think he’s one of the few things that keeps Hank still going. But it was very easy to see that he tended to get nervous, and it was mostly because Hank didn’t really take good care of himself. Dogs, and mammalian pets in general, were pretty good about sensing shit like that. And it does affect them. And anytime I would try to get Hank to start taking better care of himself, he’d just tell me to go fuck myself. I never took it personally, but just once I wished he would actually take my suggestions seriously.

Suddenly, I heard the sound of a shower being turned on, and Hank shouting at the top of his lungs. “TURN IT OFF! TURN IT OFF!” Even after the sound of the water had just as quickly ceased, I couldn’t help but laugh a little. “What the fuck are you doing here?”

“A homicide was reported 43 minutes ago.” Connor informed Hank. “We couldn't find you at Jimmy's bar, so we came to see if you were at home.”

I practically facepalmed at Connor’s complete tactlessness. “DUDE!” I shouted at him from the other room. “THE MAN HAS JUST BEEN LYING ON THE FLOOR PISS DRUNK! YOU DON’T JUST OPEN WITH THAT! MAKE SURE THE POOR MAN’S OKAY, FIRST!” I lectured him, still shouting and shaking my head. “Jesus!”

“I’m sorry!” Connor replied back to me. “I’ll keep that in mind for the next time!” It sort of amazed me how he could maintain the same sort of polite and professional tone of voice while raising it. Despite the change in volume, he didn’t sound like he was actually shouting at me.

A small moment seemed to pass before I heard Hank complain again. “Jesus, I must be the only cop in the world that gets assaulted in his own house by his own fuckin' android.”

“Hey, if Connor didn’t do it, I would’ve!” I yelled at Hank. “So, SHUT THE FUCK UP!”

“YOU TOO?!” Hank exclaimed in indignation.

“Yes, me too!” I bit back with. “Because like it or not, I care about you! Because someone has to, so deal with it!”

I knew Hank didn’t really have much of a high opinion of himself. It was one of the reasons his self care was so poor. But like fuck I was gonna let that slide! I considered Hank a good friend, and I sure as Hell wasn’t going to let a friend wallow in his self-loathing and misery.

“You seem to have personal issues.” I heard Connor saying from the bathroom. “You should consult a professional who can help you!”

“Beat it! You hear me!?” Hank shouted at Connor. “Get the Hell outta here!”

I scoffed at him. “Hank, Connor’s right, you know!” I yelled.

I got no answer, so I just went back to petting Sumo. As much as I wanted to join in, the dog has me pinned to the ground with his head, and thus I am not allowed to leave.

That’s just the law of having animals. If they decide they wanna sleep, sit, or lay on you, that’s it. You live there now.

“I understand.” Connor said. “It probably wasn’t interesting anyway...a man found dead in a sex club downtown...” I snickered at him. “Guess they’ll have to solve the case without us...”

“Hey!” I shouted. “If Hank wants to stay home, we can make this case into a fun romp! Wouldn’t be too bad a place for a date!” I teased, a smug grin on my face. I knew he didn’t react to things like jokes or teasing in the same way humans did, but it didn’t make me want to do it any less. It was one of the ways I expressed affection, and I got the feeling that even though Connor didn’t understand it really, he understood that that’s how I expressed myself.

“You know, it probably wouldn’t do me any harm to get some air...” Hank said, agreeing. I couldn’t help but chuckle. There he is. Sumo shifted a bit, though instead of getting up and leaving, he just slumped more onto his side and shoved his face further into my lap. Welp, guess I’m never leaving.

“I’ll go get them!” Connor’s voice rung out. I was confused for a moment, but very quickly my brain pieced together from context clues. Ah, clothes. Fresh clothes. “What do you want to wear?”

“Whatever!” Hank groaned.

A moment seemed to go by before I heard Hank yelling and gasping, and I felt my stomach churn. I’ve always had sort of a weak stomach, and I especially couldn’t really handle vomit. The most I’ve ever had to do was help my sister throw up over the phone after she drunk too much one night. She was very much the sad drunk that night, but at least my sort of nonchalant blase attitude made her feel a lot better. Anytime she’d moan about how she was dying, I would just remind her that she wasn’t dying, and that she was just sad and drunk and that she’d be fine.

Sometimes reacting to something as if it’s not a big deal can help ground someone in reality. Inversely, reacting to other things like it is a big deal can also help ground someone in reality. It just depends on context.

Connor closed the bathroom door, muffling the sounds of Hank’s ordeal and the android slowly approached me. “Is Hank okay?” I asked him.

“He’ll be fine.” Connor informed me. “He informed me that he just needs five minutes. He’s just suffering from alcohol intoxication and his body is forcefully expelling it from his systems.”

“Yeesh!” I grimaced. “I’m very glad I stay away from alcohol. It’s not good and it tastes like urine in a mug. I’ve only ever really gotten drunk once, and I’m avoiding that situation again.”

Connor’s brows furrowed in concern for a moment as he regarded me. “Did something happen?”

“Oh! No, nothing bad happened!” I assured him. “I was in my apartment when I was still living in Canada just after I finished going to university. I was with Frank and a few of my friends from school for a beach day/board game night, and I wanted to see what I’m like when I’m drunk. Needless to say, I’ve discovered that I’m a silly drunk. So it wasn’t horrible and it’s definitely fun to remember, but I don’t think I want to get drunk again.”

“Ah, I see.” Connor said, nodding. “Probably a wise decision.”

His dark eyes then flicked over to Sumo and I saw his lips gently curl into a smile as he bent down to pet the St. Bernard, the dog lifting his head up to sniff at Connor’s hand. “You mentioned that you like dogs.” I said to him, remembering his conversation with Hank earlier at the station.

“Yes.” Connor replied, gently running his hand over the dog’s back and belly. “And I think it would be easy to assume you do, as well.”

“Oh, absolutely!” I answered, giving Sumo a good head scratch, to which the dog groaned and grumbled happily. I could easily recognize the sounds of a dog that was enjoying a good scratch. “But, I love all critters. Well, I’m not a fan of spiders, but I can usually at least appreciate them...when I’m not cowering in the corner.”

Connor nodded and got up, looking over the room. He inspected Hank’s vinyl collection, a set of jazz records.

He then left the living room and walked towards the dining room where we found Hank. I wondered for a moment if Connor inspected my house like that while I was brewing myself tea, learning as much as he could about me through simple observation. He knelt down to examine the revolver on the ground, and I couldn’t lie, the sight of it still made me tense up. “What were you doing with the gun?” Connor called out to Hank.

“Russian roulette! Wanted to see how long I could last...” Hank called out, his voice muffled by the bathroom walls. I let out a sigh, scrunching my face. “Must've collapsed before I found out...”

I heard Connor examining the revolver further, before he put it back down. “You were lucky, the next shot would have killed you.” He said rather pointedly.

I snuggled in closer to Sumo, feeling a darkness creep into my very senses. I knew Hank had...tendencies. He wasn’t suicidal. He couldn’t really pull the trigger. Not knowingly. But he kept testing the limits and leaving it up to chance, hoping somewhere that God would just kill him already.

The kind of man with nothing to live for, but no reason to die. A feeling I knew all too well.

And I knew full well the reason why. Connor had gotten up off the floor and was staring at it. A framed photo of Hank’s son, Cole. He died four years ago in an accident. He was only six. For a moment, I contemplated telling Connor the whole story. But...that wasn’t my story to tell. Whether or not Connor should hear the story was up to Hank, not me. And I had enough respect for Hank not to infringe on that right.

Hank wasn’t the type who was really all that good at expressing his feelings or talking about his problems. He tended to keep that shit to himself. He locked himself off from others, while I was eager to share. I talked about vulnerable things, but...I wasn’t really being vulnerable. Oversharing was just something I did to help me feel more in control. It was just another way to protect myself from my own guilt. My own darkness.

Hank and I weren’t always friends. But we understood each other. There was only one time he really opened up to me, and funnily enough, it was sort of the first time we had properly met.

I had just made detective after graduating from the police academy and being an officer for a while. One of my first cases was dealing with a set of red ice dealers, and I got a tip from a CI that a handoff was supposed to go down in a public park. So Chris and I made our way there early so that we couldn’t miss it. Chris waited in an unmarked vehicle, keeping an eye on things and letting me know if he saw any movement through my walker.

Whilst I was making my way around the place, I saw him there. Lieutenant Hank Anderson, sitting on a bench with a bottle of whiskey in hand. I’d seen him around before, but I’d never really even spoken to him. I sort of didn’t really like him, as he just kind of seemed like an unprofessional, crotchety, old drunkard that didn’t really take his job seriously, yet enjoyed his position of authority anyways.

But when I saw him sitting there on that bench, he seemed so...lost and forlorn. He was looking pretty sombre, and since he was off-duty, this was his time off the clock. He noticed me and gave me a nod. “Officer.” He greeted with a grunt.

“Lieutenant Anderson.” I replied in kind. “And it’s ‘detective,’ now.” He rolled his eyes, and I noticed that there was a place I could sit. I wasn’t sure what compelled me to keep him company, but...I felt like I should. “I’m waiting to see if my CI was right about a dealer making a handoff here. So, mind if I have a seat?”

The lieutenant scoffed. “Yeah, go ahead. Whatever.” He droned.

I was briefly annoyed, but took a seat, being careful not to sit too close to him or touch him. He was definitely distant, I could see it in his pale blue eyes. Looking around, it seemed pretty strange to me that someone like him was just sitting and getting drunk at a children’s playground alone. So in my mind, he was either dealing with some shit, or he was just an old drunk creep. I gave him the benefit of the doubt, however, and decided to gently pry at him. “So, what’s a guy like you doing at a place like this at this hour with a bottle of booze?” I asked him. “Get kicked out of too many bars for roughhousing some assholes?”

He seemed to actually be briefly amused by my attempt at bonding, giving me a weak chuckle. But he downed another gulp of whiskey and shot me a glare. “Why the fuck do you care?”

As rude as that question was asked, I just shrugged. “Why not? Wallowing in misery is a lot less shitty when someone’s there to make sure you get cleaned up, after.” I said to him blankly. “I’m not allowed to be worried about a fellow officer?”

“Tch, what?” He scoffed at me, shoving me a little aggressively. “Do I look pathetic to you? Like a fucking loser? You just sitting here and acting like you care outta fuckin’ pity?”

I’ve dealt with enough aggressive jagoffs to know that responding in kind with aggression just made them angrier. It was just easier and better to diffuse them. “You say that like basic human empathy is a bad thing.” I shot back with a monotone delivery, an eyebrow raised.

He seemed to respond to that neutrally, shaking his head with a scoff. “Whatever.” He grumbled, taking another swig of booze. “It’s not like a kid like you could understand.”

I blinked at him a couple times, not breaking my gaze from him. “Try me.” I said simply.

He was quiet for a moment. But then, to my surprise, he actually started talking to me. He...he told me everything. About Cole. About the truck skidding on the road. About Cole’s trip to the hospital. About how an android was tasked to operate on his son, and...Cole didn’t make it.

I listened intently, responding only when it was appropriate for me to. And...I told him about Frank.

At that moment, we understood each other. We both knew grief and loss, and it affected us in our daily lives. It changed the way we each respectively saw the world. I then heard Chris on the walker about the dealer making the handoff, and Hank and I ended up arresting him and a couple of other dealers that were in the area.

After that, we actually started to become familiar with one another. We were partners on a few cases, and after that, he started getting me on other tougher cases. Even the other detectives were surprised that I was getting “special treatment.” But at that point, we weren’t just colleagues or occasional partners.

We were friends. We could depend on each other and trust each other. We had each other’s backs. And we understood each other better than anyone else in the precinct did. All thanks to that one night.

Distracting me from my thoughts, Sumo quickly got up and walked towards the bathroom, and I heaved myself up onto my feet, approaching Hank. He was wearing something pretty snazzy, if a little silly. But for where we were going, it would work. Hank turned from Connor to me and sighed. “Hey, kid.”

“Hey, Hank.” I replied in kind. “You feeling better now?”

“Yeah.” Hank assured me, looking down at Sumo. “Be a good dog, Sumo. I won't be long.”

With that, Connor and I quietly followed Hank to the front door, my gaze glancing back at the photo of Cole before continuing out the door. “Sorry about the window, Lieutenant.” Connor apologized to Hank. “I really thought you'd been attacked. Of course, CyberLife will pay for the damage.”

Hank scoffed. “Yeah, trust me, I'll send 'em a bill...”

I sort of shrugged as we emerged back out into the nighttime rain. “I tried to tell him it wasn’t necessary, but he sorta jumped the gun a bit. Or the window, in this case.”

Hank groaned. “That barely took any effort.”

“Yeah, definitely not one of my better jokes.” I agreed. “But in my defense, I didn’t have much to work with.”

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“Aw...Feels like somebody's playing with a drill inside my skull...” Hank groaned in the front seat. He was in the passenger’s seat while Connor was driving, a wise decision, I thought. “You sure this is the place?”

Connor shrugged. “It's the address in the report.” He replied nonchalantly.

“Right...Okay...” Hank grumbled. I was feeling pretty bad for him. I mean, he did just deal with lying on the floor drunk. And I would’ve offered him some ibuprofen, but I knew that wasn’t a good thing to take anywhere near alcohol. “Let's get going.”

I raised a concerned eyebrow at Hank. “Are you sure?” I asked him. “Maybe you should stay in the car and Connor and I can deal with this.”

“No, no. I’m fine.” Hank stubbornly assured me. “Don’t you worry about me, I’m okay.” He then got out of the car, bumping his head with a mumble, and I followed quickly along. Connor was last and locked the car after we got out.

As we approached, I noticed all the cops outside, and the cool blue club lighting coming from inside, bright pink neon letters spelling out Eden Club. From the outside, it didn’t seem like a bad place to hang.

As we approached the entrance, barred off with a holographic do not enter barrier for police investigations, I heard Hank scoff. “‘Sexiest androids in town’...Now I know why you insisted on coming here!”

The club interior was bathed in violet and blue lights, the cool hues making it pleasant on the eyes, I had to admit. Glancing over at Connor, I decided to have a bit of fun. “Really? I didn’t know Connor works here.”

Hank snapped his head around to glare at me and Connor’s brown eyes quickly darted in my direction. I saw his LED flicker red for a moment, and this time I knew I didn’t imagine it. He seemed so typically composed, but I realized something crucial.

Connor could get flustered. Or at least embarrassed.

And then the widest smirk on my face grew. This was going to be fun.

“Alright, that’s it. You’re staying in the car.” Hank ordered.

“Noooooo! I wanna see Gavin get beat up by sex androids!” I cried at Hank as we started to walk in. “Come on, this is the most action I’ve had in months! Wow, given the context, I really should’ve rephrased that.” I realized mid-sentence before shrugging it off.

“Oh, great! A dead body and an asshole, just what I needed...” Hank grumbled before glancing over at me curiously. “Wait, how do you know that Gavin’s here?”

“He texted me when Connor was at my place just before we came to yours.” I told him.

“Why the fuck do you have his number?” Hank exclaimed in disbelief.

I shrugged exaggeratedly. “I don’t! He has mine! And I can promise you I did not give it to him! Someone else must’ve!” I explained. “And he keeps texting me despite the fact that I have never once responded to him!”

“Then why don’t you just block him?” Hank asked in exasperation, seeming to get tired of my general tomfoolery.

I scoffed at him. “Because he’s a shitpost with feet and I’d miss out on comedy gold. Let me read you the text he sent me.” I cleared my throat and fished out my phone, opening it. “‘It’s a real shame that I’m the best cop ever, or I might make a pretty decent stripper.’ Okay, can we agree that Gavin would make an amazing stripper, but none of us are going to stroke his ego like that?”

Hank made a disgusted sound and then sped on ahead, leaving Connor and I behind. I put my phone away and glanced up at Connor, his LED his usual cool blue. I saw it flicker red earlier, and I couldn’t help but desperately want to see it turn that colour again. Putting on a confident and sly look on my face, I put my hands behind my back. “You know, Connor.” I started, the android looking in my direction. I only continued once we were making committed eye contact. “If you run your hands as well as you run your mouth, you could really spice up business around here.” I said with a deliberate raise of an eyebrow and a very deliberate tone to my voice.

And there it was again, that flicker of red. I have never felt more smug in my life.

But that very quickly faded when Connor’s expression changed into a bold one. “Rachel, did you know that I speak over 3000 global dialects fluently?”

It seemed like a random thing to bring up, but I was actually pretty impressed by that. “Ooooh! Cool!” I complimented. “Think you could help me brush up on my Romanian and my Spanish? I’m quite out of practice.”

But his eyebrow turned up at me, a gesture I was not expecting. “Do you know what that means, Rachel?”

Curious, and also skeptical, I narrowed my eyes at him. “What?” I asked.

And the fucking look he gave me when he leaned in close to me to whisper in a voice I didn’t know he could do nearly took me out right then and there. “I’m quite skilled with my tongue.”

I was not expecting him to actually shoot back at me, and I felt the hottest of shame surge up from my toes to my neck, making me involuntarily clench and arch my spine backwards and curl my fingers inward. I felt my chest tighten, feeling like it was going to explode as I just stared at him, wide-eyed and blinking at him as I stopped in place. “D-d-did you just fucking 1-up me?!” I stammered at him in shock.

And he did it again. He stared me down with that damn look, his smirk just taunting me. “What’s the matter, dear detective?” Oh God, no. He’s learning. I thought, trying to ignore the feeling of being referred to as dear detective. “Frustrated to have your own wiles thrown back at you?” I could feel my breaths getting caught in my throat and my chest feeling light. “That’s what you were doing, wasn’t it? In an effort to get under my synthetic skin, as it were?”

What the fuck was happening right now?! He wasn’t supposed to actually be good at this! That’s my thing! Well, if he thinks he can beat me at my own game, he’s dead wrong. “Ohhhhh, you don’t wanna do this with me, tin man.” I whispered at him low, getting all up in his face. “You’ve started a battle of wills of which you cannot hope to win. You may be a machine, but you are not impervious, and you will quickly learn that my spirit is unbreakable. You will emerge from this a broken man, Connor.”

As much as I was taking this challenge, there was a sense of satisfaction that bloomed within me at the blinking red LED on his temple despite his face remaining confident and neutral. “We’ll see about that, detective.”

Connor had been calling me by my first name since I first told him this morning. Clearly choosing to refer to me as simply detective was a deliberate choice. As if he knew this was only a game between us.

Clearly he did not count on the fact that I’m one of the most stubborn people on the planet, and that I have a natural inclination for competition and a refusal to be bested. Quite simply put, I refuse to lose.

“So we will.” I replied. I glanced down, only now noticing the tie he was wearing. I wasn’t exactly the expert on ties, but I liked them. A lot. And I knew that knot when I saw it. Now, this was totally something I saw on a show, but perhaps Connor would respond well to it. Experimentally, I let my right hand travel up his chest and gripped his tie to gently tug him down towards me. “A single Windsor knot?” I asked with a raised eyebrow. “Really? The easiest knot to undo? Why bother wearing any clothes at all if you were going to make such a brazen display, detective?”

There it was again. That blinking red light I was now very much enjoying seeing. “In this environment, it wouldn’t be out of place.”

“Oh, that’s right!” I teased in a mocking voice. “It wouldn’t be out of place for you to strut around in a sex club like the peacock that you are.”

“To be fair, you did mention that I have the visual appearance of a twink.” Connor bit back with a smug grin. “So yes, perhaps I wouldn’t appear too out of place here.”

I then narrowed my eyes at him, both in disgruntlement and in begrudging pride. “Well played, Connor. Well played.”

“Guys!” Hank shouted at us. “The fuck are you doin'?”

Connor’s attention immediately shifted and he began following the old man as if that conversation just didn’t happen. “Coming, Lieutenant.”

I tried to ignore the feeling I was getting after Connor left, and followed them further inside the club. Getting a better look, my potential anticipation of fun quickly plummeted when I looked around at all the androids in underwear and bras that were being kept in tubes. There were also androids performing as pole dancers in the middle of the rooms, but most of them were just...waiting to be rented. As I approached one, I immediately clung to my jacket and pulled it closer to myself, feeling my blood go a little bit cold. “You alright, Rachel?” Hank asked me, approaching me.

I sort of shook my head with a sigh. “Yeah, I just...I thought this was gonna be fun. But,” I paused, taking another look at the sex android that was just staring at me through the glass, “seeing these androids just on display for everyone to see, waiting to just get used and then put back is...to put it mildly, making me uncomfortably self-conscious.”

“Oh yeah?” Hank said with a scoff. “Why’s that?”

I sort of glared at him with a lazy tilt of my head, very much giving him the really? look. “Because most straight white men look at me like that.” I said very bluntly, not hiding the annoyance in my voice. “Let me tell you, it fucking sucks to have to be constantly hypervigilant of my surroundings, especially at night, just so I don’t end up waking up behind a dumpster because some asshole feels entitled to my vagina.”

“Okay! Okay, I get it!” Hank said, waving his hands. I rolled my eyes. I knew men could be squeamish when “women problems” were brought up around them. Or when they had to be confronted about their privileges. But I knew Hank wasn’t just dismissing me, he just wasn’t really...a sensual person and got grossed out kinda easily. “So, what the fuck was that whole deal with you and Connor back there?”

I sort of gave him a confused look. “What do you mean?”

“You were practically climbing up him like a cougar scoring up some territory!” Hank clarified a bit too bluntly for my liking.

“Ugh, gross! It’s not like that!” I groaned, mock gagging a bit. “It was just playful banter that was in theme with the environment because come on. When else am I gonna have an opportunity to make jokes like these in an appropriate setting?”

Hank shoved me with his shoulder as we further walked in. “Alright, whatever you say.” I could tell he wasn’t convinced, but I didn’t really care. “Just keep it in your pants.”

I rolled my eyes at him again. “Won’t be hard.”

As we made our way closer to who I recognized as Ben who was talking to someone I assumed was the manager. “You're not gonna take my license, are you? I mean, ha, I had nothing to do with this!” I heard the guy say in a very hushed and slimy voice and already I decided I did not like him.

I mean, I didn’t have high hopes that someone who ran a facility like this was a stand-up person. Don’t get me wrong, I have infinite amounts of respect for sex workers and pole dancers and strippers! But it’s no secret that it’s not a safe industry to be in for workers and that management isn’t usually great or even qualifies as the most basic definition of ethical.

Which was why I was very picky about the clubs I went to. Because pole dancers are actually super fun to watch and I want to support them. “The investigation's ongoing, sir, I can't tell you anything for the moment.” I heard Ben say, breaking me out of my thoughts. I noticed Connor regarding the sex androids as I made my way over, and I wondered for a moment if he was just doing his usual observation thing or if he was actually a closet pervert.

But he stole a glance at me, and I looked away just as quick, not wanting him to catch me staring at him.

Wait, why was I staring at him? And why did I care if he noticed?

Deciding not to dwell on that for too long, I decided to just catch up with Hank again and approached them. “Hey, Hank!” Ben called his colleague before glancing over at me. “Hey, Rachel! Heard you got put on the case, too, huh.”

I nodded, a small flush of pride spreading through me. “Yeah, guess they decided that I was too good to leave off the case!” I bragged somewhat jokingly.

“Yeah, don’t get too cocky.” Ben said, gesturing towards a room that was labeled The Red Room. “This one might be a bit of a tough nut to bust.”

I turned to Hank. “See? Ben’s making jokes, too!”

Hank ignored me, deciding just to talk to Ben. “So, how's it goin'?”

“It's that room there. Oh, uh, by the way...” Ben paused, an unpleasant frown on his greying face. “Gavin's in there too.”

“Yeah, I know.” I droned in equal disappointment.

“He texted you?”

“Yeah.” I replied dully. “We’ll head on in. Thanks, Ben.”

I started making my way into the room, the door opening and Hank following behind me. I sensed Connor’s footsteps briskly catching up and ignored the fact that my breath briefly quickened for a moment.

As soon as I walked in, I saw Gavin with his back turned to us, another officer I soon recognized as Chris, and two bodies laid on the ground. It barely took any time for the asshole to notice us. “Lieutenant Anderson, the Detective Slut, and her plastic fuck toy...The fuck are you doin' here?”

I felt a brief rage and frustration bubble up in me before I exhaled it out. “I’m gonna pretend that you didn’t just say that combination of words out loud.”

“We've been assigned all cases involving androids.” Connor replied way more professionally than I would have.

“Oh, yeah?” He said with a condescending glare that made me want to throw him out of a fucking window. “Well, you're wasting your time.” He was looking at the body with a less than appropriate grin on his face. “Just some pervert who, uh, got more action than he could handle.” He laughed, looking directly at me. “Sounds like it’s your kind of Friday night, huh, Rach?”

No way in Hell was I about to take his shit. “Okay, first of all, Gavin, I may be a slut, but I’m a slut with social anxiety and trust issues, so tread lightly.” I warned him with a glare. “And second, you know I don’t have sex with androids. Period.”

“Really?” He was glancing between Connor and I, and I knew exactly what he was implying. And it was making it really hard not to kick him right in the dick. Especially since I was at the perfect height to do so. “Could’ve fooled me.” He said, getting uncomfortably close to me.

“We'll have a look anyway, if you don't mind.” Hank said, trying to ease the tension, getting closer to me.

As Gavin leaned in close, I stood my ground, glaring up at him. “You know, all this is making me pretty frisky. Huh, Rach?”

Blinking at him a couple of times, I replied in the most monotone voice I could muster. “I’m ovulating, let’s go.”

He then gave me a face that I knew meant he was no longer interested. “And, like that the boner’s killed.” He then looked over at Chris and gestured to the black officer to follow. “Come on, let's go...” He said, his eyes focused on Hank. “It's uh... starting to stink of booze in here...”

In a fraction of a second, I had my left hand wrapped tightly around Gavin’s wrist, and I pulled him in close. His groans of pain were audible as I simply glared at him, not breaking my grip on him. “Fuck!” He spat in his strange unique way that sounded more like a sneeze than a swear.

“You’d better watch your damn mouth, Reed.” I warned him, my voice dripping with venom. “Unless you want to be picking your teeth up off the fucking floor. And you and I both know that I can kick your ass with one arm.”

I let him go, and Gavin wasted no time leaving, aggressively shoulder checking Connor as he left, gripping his wrist which I could easily see was going to bruise something fierce. Chris then approached us, nodding politely at us. “Night, guys.”

“Night, Chris.” I replied after him.

After the door closed behind us, I let out a sigh. “Man, the fucking nerve of that guy.” I groaned. “At least he was nice enough to pull out.”

Hank rolled his eyes with a disgusted groan at my joke and I just snickered at myself. I glanced over at Connor and I realized he was staring at me quite intensely, his LED spinning yellow. “What?” I asked him.

“Why did you tell Detective Reed that you were ovulating when it would’ve been counterproductive to rejecting his advances and is also untrue?” I sort of blinked at him in surprise. “I’m not detecting any spike in your ovulation levels based on my vital scan.”

“Oh, Jesus, Connor!” Hank shouted, throwing his arms up. “Can’t you ever just mind your own fuckin’ business?”

I was about to feel really embarrassed and maybe even scold Connor a bit, but then I got a better idea. “Well, first off, guys don’t respond well when you break down stuff into technicals. Sort of kills the mood.” I said, stepping up to him. “And second of all, my eyes are up here, pervert.” I teased, walking up to him and grabbing his tie again, but not pulling him. “Try not to get lost in them, I know that can be quite hard.”

“Hm.” Connor said, tilting his head in confusion. “Interesting how you say they’re ‘up here,’ but I actually have to look down at you to see them.”

“Ohhhhh...fuck you, Connor.” I immediately let go of his tie and shook my head, backing off and sort of laughing begrudgingly. I’m sort of used to having short jokes thrown at me, but the fact that it came from Connor somehow made it worse.

“Hey, dead body here.” Hank said, getting our attention and throwing a very pointed glare at me in particular. “Can we maybe focus?”

Connor nodded. “Sure thing, Lieutenant.”

I walked over to examine the body of the guy on the bed, feeling a bit queasy. Even though he hasn’t been dead long enough to smell or even look dead, aside from his eyes popping out of his head, it still never got any easier looking at them.

I glanced over at Connor, who seemed to have decided to investigate the android. He dipped his fingers in the blue blood trickling down her nose, and brought them to his lips, gently lapping at it once. “Whoa! Hey! Hey! Hey!” Hank rushed over in exasperation. “Argh, Connor, you're so disgusting... Think I'm gonna puke again...”

My brain was running on autopilot, generating what it seemed to think was a totally normal completely inconspicuous response. “Yep, super gross. Absolutely disgusting.”

Although, as soon as I said that, Connor locked eyes with me, and I immediately felt my heart jump, and just looked away, blocking my view of him with my right hand. I started breathing heavily as the obscene thought might have crossed my mind a bit...maybe...somewhat...kind of...sort of...You know what? It doesn’t matter. As I walked over to the dead body, trying to avoid looking at Connor, Hank made his way over to the nearby table.

I quickly realized that my heart was still going. It wouldn’t stop. And it was really weirding me out. Why is everything so weird all of a sudden? I then took a good look around myself and reminded myself of where I was currently. Sex club. That’s why. We’re in a sex club, of course things would feel weird.

I was not prepared for Connor to approach me from behind, the brush of his shoulder making me almost gasp in shock. “Are you alright, Rachel?” He asked, dropping whatever playful or teasing tone he had before in favour of one of concern. “Your heart rate has elevated again and so has your breath intake. Do you need to take a step outside?”

I sort of smiled at his concern, turning to look at him. “I’m fine, I’m just...never used to dealing with dead bodies, that’s all.” I assured him, but somewhere inside, that didn’t feel completely honest. But...why? Connor, however, seemed to accept my answer, and I went about examining the body.

The first thing I noticed, aside from the victim’s protruding bloodshot eyes, was the bruising on the neck. It was definitely obvious enough to me that it was clear that he was strangled to death. It wasn’t a heart problem. And clearly, Connor noticed it too, as he got up and approached Hank. “He didn't die of a heart attack, he was strangled.”

“Yeah, I saw the bruising on the neck.” Hank agreed, reading something. “Doesn't prove anything though. Could've been rough play...”

I scoffed. “Not like this, it’s not.” I said, confidentally. “When you engage in breathplay, if you’re gripping so hard that it’s potentially bruising, that’s extremely dangerous. Even gripping hard enough to lightly bruise can cause brain damage. That’s why you really need to know your limits before you try it. The android who did this was choking with the intent to kill. They meant to strangle him to death.”

Hank glared at me. “I don’t want to know how you know that.”

“I’ve dabbled before.” I answered. “Not that hard to figure out.”

I glanced over at Connor and noticed him staring at me, his LED flickering red before spinning to yellow. “We're missing something here...” He said in frustration, walking over to the android on the ground.

“Think you can read the android's memory?” Hank suggested. “Maybe you can see what happened.”

“I can try.” Connor said hesitantly.

“It might be our best bet.” I agreed. “Androids don’t leave fingerprints, so we’re out of luck there, and we can’t really figure out what happened otherwise. Ben was right, this is kind of a tough one.”

A moment seemed to go by before Hank broke the silence. “Driver's license says: Michael Graham.” He said, violently reminding me of the android that I somehow managed to sneak out of the police precinct earlier before I went back home. It was not an easy feat, and I’m really fucking glad I didn’t get caught. But I managed to smuggle him to my house, get him a change of clothes, cleaned him up, and now, Micheal walks a free man. I just hope he doesn’t get himself into more trouble. “A credit card, cash in the wallet...Picture of his wife and two daughters...” Yikes! “I wouldn't want to make that call.”

I sort of let out a sigh. “You know, I think his wife might’ve actually dodged a bullet, there.”

“The only way to access its memory is to reactivate it.” I heard Connor say from behind me. I decided to leave the dead body and approach the android, broken on the ground with blue blood coming out of her nose.

“Think you can do it?” Hank asked, coming up behind us.

“It's badly damaged...” Connor pressed his hand on her abdomen, making her stomach deskin itself, revealing what looked like a panel against grey plating. “If I can, it'll only be for a minute, maybe less...I just hope it's long enough to learn something.”

As he opened her up revealing the wiring and tubes beneath, I grimaced in phantom pains. “Poor thing.” I muttered under my breath. “If I had my tools, I might be able to repair her. Compared to Micheal, she might actually be easier to repair, if I can figure out what’s damaged.”

The two ends of a tube inside were dislodged and separated. Connor carefully gripped them and locked them back together, suddenly spurring the android back to life, her LED a constant red. As she gasped and scrambled away, I nearly fell backwards onto my ass, quickly rolling over so I could crouch beside her. Instantly, my response was to reassure her. “It’s okay, we’re not going to hurt you, we need you to tell us what we need to know.” I said softly.

“You were damaged and I reactivated you. Everything is alright.” Connor said succinctly to the reactivated android.

She seemed to relax, taking in the situation. “Is he...is he dead?” She asked.

I nodded. “Tell me what happened.” Connor ordered.

“He started...hitting me...” She began explaining, her LED going back to spinning yellow. “Again...and again. I begged him to stop, but he wouldn't.”

“Did you kill him?” Connor asked.

She blinked at him for a moment before she answered. “No...no, it wasn't me...”

“Were you alone in the room? Was there anyone else with you?” Connor asked, his tone more frantic and urgent.

“He wanted to play with two girls...” She responded, her breath starting to pick up speed. “That's what he said, there were two of us...”

“Where did the other android go? Did it say anything?”

But there wasn’t enough time, as her facial expression instantly dropped, and her LED started winding down to nothing. She was dead. “Jesus Christ...” I breathed. I had never been so unnerved. It wasn’t like when a human dies and slowly bleeds out. It just...stopped. Mid-sentence. It made my blood drain from my face.

“So, there was another android...” Hank remarked. Connor got up, sighing in frustration and I got up with him, facing Hank. “This happened over an hour ago, it's probably long gone...”

“No...It couldn't go outside dressed like that unnoticed...” Connor pointed out, his eyes still on the android. “It might still be here.”

I shrugged. It seemed logical. “Makes sense, I doubt there are a lot of spare clothes either in here or the local dumpsters.” I said, agreeing. “But it has still been an hour. And it’s not like someone immediately noticed a dead body and a missing android. That’s quite the window of time to make an escape.”

Hank seemed to regard Connor for a moment, the android’s gaze fixed on the lieutenant. “Think you could find a deviant among all the other androids in this place?” He asked.

Connor shook his head. “Deviants aren't easily detected.”

I sort of looked at him in surprise. “Damn, so this is stumping you too, eh?”

“Ah, shit...There's gotta be some other way...” Hank muttered, starting to pace. I was trying to rack my brain for some way to solve this, too. But it was difficult. “Maybe an eyewitness? Somebody who saw it leaving the room...”

“Maybe...” I repeated, still trying to think.

“I'm gonna go ask the manager a few questions about what he saw. You let me know if you think of anything.” Hank said, the door opening behind him as he left.

We followed, seeing no point in staying in the red room. I decided to grit my teeth and try to talk to the manager, seeing as I had managed to think of some decent questions to ask him. But I was definitely not looking forward to dealing with the slimy creep.

He was standing around anxious, reasonably so, and I stayed right next to Hank with my notepad out ready to take notes. “Hey there, just wanna ask you some questions, sir.” I said in a relatively neutral way.

“Oh, yeah. Sure thing, not a problem.” He agreed, shuffling on his feet.

“Did you know the victim?” Hank asked.

“No, I mean he came in maybe two or three times...I mean these guys they don't really talk very much, you know...” The manager answered without much hesitation. So far, so good. I thought as I jotted down a note. “They come in, do their business and then go on their way...”

Hank nodded. “You ever had any trouble with androids before?”

“No way!” The manager said in a way that really didn’t sound convincing and I had to stop myself from giving him a judgy eyebrow. “Well...Once...” I nodded. Ah, there it is. “We lost a model 2-3 months back, bah...same model...Just vanished, we never found out what happened.”

I nodded, jotting that down, also taking note about the potential questionability of that piece of info. “You probably don't have any CCTV in here, huh?” Hank then asked, looking around the place.

The manager then sort of chuckled. “No way...I mean...” He replied. “This is what people appreciate about Eden Club...discretion. They can come and go without a trace.”

“Sure, sure...” Hank said sarcastically. I nodded. Cool, cool, really helpful, ain’t you? I thought, taking another note. “Eh, business is booming, right?”

“Yeah, can't complain...” The manager answered all too eagerly for my liking. “Good thing about androids is they're up for whatever you want, you won't get any diseases and, uh...they won't tell anyone...So, why not go wild?”

I shook my head, taking another note. Gross. “Huh, yeah...Yeah, the more I learn about people, more I love my dog.”

I smiled, letting out a sigh. “Alright, and I’ve got a couple questions myself, if you don’t mind, sir.” I said. “So, the androids are sort of like the staff, right?”

The manager was laughing at me. “I mean, they’re androids. They don’t exactly need to be paid, little missy.”

I sort of glared at him before sighing. “Okay, that’s my fault, I should’ve phrased that question better.” I conceded. “There are staff entrances and areas where customers and patrons don’t have authorization to enter. Do the androids here have that authorization?”

“Well, yeah...I mean, they have to go somewhere between their, uh, sessions.” The manager answered. “To get repairs and checkups, y’know. Keep them in working order.”

I took another note. “So, where would the most prominent places be for the androids to go between sessions?” I asked.

“Entrance to the warehouse, probably.” The manager answered again. “It’s where our models come in and also where we get them calibrated and built, y’know. All that technical stuff.”

That was all I thought was necessary to know, and my notepad looked like this:

Micheal Graham, death by strangulation about an hour ago

The android that was dead in the room was not the one that killed him

Patrons don’t have a personal relationship with the manager, but this one was somewhat of a regular

Only trouble was an android that disappeared around 2-3 months ago, though that seems a bit questionable (needs to be looked into, potentially)

No cameras or recordings

Business is good, so real reason for foul play or some kind of financial scandal

Androids have staff authorization

Android warehouse most likely place for androids to hide

“Alright, I think that’s a good amount of info to at least have something to go off of.” I said to the manager. “Thank you for your cooperation.”

“Oh yeah, no problem!” He said a bit too hastily. “Just, uh, let me know if you, uh...need anymore help.”

“Excuse me, Lieutenant.” I heard Connor say, making me jump a little as he approached us. “Can you come here a second?”

“Found something?” Hank asked.

“Maybe...” Connor replied, less like he actually had something and more like he had an idea and needed to make sure it actually held any water.

I followed Connor alongside Hank to one of the tubes with an android in it, grimacing slightly as I neared it. “Can you rent this Traci?”

I sort of blinked my eyes at the android in surprise for a couple seconds. “I’m sorry?”

“For fuck's sake, Connor, we got better things to do...” Hank protested in disgust.

“I know I was making jokes earlier, but this is very much not the time to get your rocks off, Connor!” I scolded him. “You can come back and do that later after we deal with the murder!”

“Please, Lieutenant!” Connor pleaded as Hank was turning to walk away. “Just trust me.”

Hank looked like he was going to just leave, but gave up and started to work with the interface, actually going through with a purchase. “Hello. A 30 minute session costs $29.99. Please confirm your purchase.” The machine said.

I blinked a couple times at it. “$30 for half an hour?!” I exclaimed. “Holy shit, what a steal!” Hank then slowly turned towards me, his eyes narrowed into the most judgy look I’ve ever seen him give me. “I’m sorry! I guess everyone else has more expensive tastes in sex workers than I do! Excuse me!” I said, backing away and throwing my arms up. I was a cheapass bitch, and I was not about to be ashamed of it. I say, as I actually kind of have expensive tastes that I really have to fight myself on.

Hank then went back to confirming the purchase and groaning. “This is not gonna look good on my expense account...”

The machine then chimed again. “Purchase confirmed. Eden Club wishes you a pleasant experience.”

“Yeah, you're welcome.” Hank grumbled.

The door to the pod opened and the android stepped out to greet Hank. “Delighted to meet you.” I couldn’t lie...her voice was doing things to me, and as much as I didn’t like the thought of sleeping with androids, I couldn’t deny the appeal. “Follow me, I'll take you to your room.”

“Okay, now what?” Hank asked Connor annoyedly.

Connor then locked eyes with me, his dark brown irises swirling with interest as I felt myself prickle under his gaze, and by the way his LED was spinning yellow again, I could already tell he was analyzing me. “Hey, don’t look at me like that!” I hissed at him in slight embarrassment. “I stick to my scruples, but I’m only human!”

Connor raised an inquisitive eyebrow at me. “I didn’t say a word.”

I grumbled and turned away from him. “Just do your thing, you fuckin’ roomba.”

Connor then approached the Traci and grabbed the inside of her arm, his left hand deskinning and his LED turning yellow again, showing that he was taking in information. “Holy shit, Connor...” Hank breathed. “What the hell are you doin'?”

After a moment of Connor just standing there holding onto the Traci, he suddenly turned to the both of us. “It saw something.”

“What are you talkin' about? Saw, what?” Hank asked, his brows knitted together in confusion.

“The deviant leave the room...” Connor clarified. “A blue-haired Traci.”

I raised my eyebrows at him. “Damn, we’ve got a lead!”

“Club policy is to wipe the androids' memory every two hours. We only have a few minutes if we wanna find another witness!” Connor said, jumping my instincts into overdrive.

“Oh, great!” I groaned. “That’s just super fucking convenient.” I let out a sigh as I consulted my notepad. “The manager said that androids have authorization to go into staff only areas. If we check those places, we might find her. They’d make pretty decent places to hide.”

“If we go looking blindly, we might alert the deviant to our presence and lose it.” Connor retorted.

“But checking every android on the chance that they’ve all seen her walking around might take too long and waste time!” I pointed out.

“We don’t have time for this!” Hank shouted at the both of us. “Split up, we’ll cover more ground that way.”

I nodded. “Right. I’ll go look in the staff only areas, you check the androids.”

“Right.” Connor agreed.

“Just let me know if you need backup, Rachel!” Hank called.

“Will do!” I was already on my way, scanning every potential entrance and every room.

Blue-haired Traci, that’s pretty easy to find. So far, I haven’t seen an android with blue hair in here. I thought, wandering around into an offset of the main area that was bathed in more red lighting than purple. “Hey, what are ya doin’ here, Luis?”

Luis! That name shot through me like lightning and I felt my heart start racing as my eyes locked onto where the sound was coming from. “Sorry, I know you’ve got this whole thing going on, but I forgot to tip you.”

The rest of the conversation started sliding off my brain as it started to spiral completely out of control. Glasses...beard...anime obsessed creep look...Luis...I started to breath heavily and tremble, both fear and rage long buried starting to bubble to the surface threatening to drown me. I took a few hesitant steps backward as my mind started to swirl. No...I thought I was rid of him! I thought he was gone for good! But he’s here! And he’s found me! I nearly stumbled. No! No! No! No! No! He’s going to see me and drag me back! I can’t go back! I can’t! Not again! Never again! I can’t ever go back! Never! Never! Never! Never!

--------

“There're androids everywhere! How you gonna tell which one saw the Traci with blue hair?” Hank asked impatiently from behind Connor as he began approaching the Traci dancing on the pole.

Software Instability ^ But he noticed movement from the corner of his eye and saw Rachel, stepping backwards out of the red room, her heart rate spiked far beyond what was typical of her and she was beginning to hyperventilate. She was showing signs of another trauma-induced panic attack, and Connor followed her gaze and saw a man talking to the manager in the red room.

He approached closer and scanned the man to identify him.

Question Luis 🔓

Locate Deviant

--------

I couldn’t stay. Not while he was here. I ran into the blue room and ran through the first staff exit I could find, and it led down a hallway towards a black door that I tore open without any thought. I was too afraid to think about anything else than getting away and hiding. He’ll find me! I thought frantically, gasping for air and feeling my eyes swell.

I found myself surrounded by several androids that weren’t even activated yet. It was a warehouse of sorts, but I didn’t care, I just ran.

I ran and found somewhere to hide and curl up into a ball until this was all over. I nestled myself in the furthest and darkest corner of the room, rocking myself back and forth in my panic.

And suddenly, I heard whispers around me.

“What are you doing?”

“We have to help her!”

“She’s a human! We can’t trust her!”

“But she’s so scared...she’s just trying to hide...like us.”

“How do we know we can trust her?”

“We don’t...but we can’t just leave her here.”

My eyes started darting around wildly, my hand reaching for my pistol as I pulled it out of my holster, my hands trembling as I held it out and pointed it around me. “W-who’s there?!” I stammered, my voice cracking. Not exactly the toughest image for potentially violent androids to see. “Show yourself!”

I heard the sounds of shoes clacking in the warehouse as I saw two shapes step out of the shadows slowly with their hands up. “Please don’t shoot.” One of them whispered.

In the light, I was able to see them both more clearly. They were both Tracis. One had very short brown hair that was more spiked, and the other was the blue-haired Traci. “Don’t be afraid.” The blue-haired Traci said, gently leaning down to me with her hands still up. “We’re not going to hurt you. Just tell us who you’re hiding from.”

With both Tracis showing themselves to me with a gun pointed at them, not wanting to attack me, I let my guard down and put the gun back into my holster and allowed both androids to approach me.

--------

Probing the memory of a working janitor in the blue room, Connor was able to see where the blue-haired Traci finally ended up. “I know where it went! Follow me!” He announced to Hank who was following him along. He made a mental note to pay Hank for all the funds he had to spend on renting the androids just so Connor could probe them, especially the unsuccessful ones.

“Fucking-A. This is crazy...” Hank groaned, shaking his head. “Let’s go find Rachel, first.” He then looked around. “Wait...where the fuck’s she gone?”

Connor began to feel uneasy at her absence. It hadn’t been long ago. “She was going to check all notable staff entrances for the deviant.” He recalled. “When I saw her last, she seemed panicked and frantic. Like earlier, on the highway.”

Software Instability ^ “Shit!” Hank cursed, throwing his arm down. “We’ve gotta find her before she gets herself into trouble.”

Connor looked around the room. “She couldn’t have gone far.” He said, more panic and worry in his voice than he intended to show. “Maybe she’s closer than we think.”

“Well, find out!” Hank shouted at Connor.

Objective: Find Rachel

Connor tried to locate the android with the best vantage point and approached the one he had checked earlier for the blue-haired Traci and failed to locate her. “This one must have seen her come by this way if she has.”

“We’ve already checked this one!” Hank complained.

“For the deviant.” Connor pointed out. “An hour ago. But Rachel had to have come here within the last two minutes, and he was here.”

Hank shook his head and complied, renting the android again. Connor probed its memory once again and saw the blue room as it was when they arrived. Easily, he saw Rachel rush into the staff entrance.

Software Instability ^ “She went where the deviant is.” Connor said.

“Holy shit.” Hank breathed. “We’ve gotta get to her now! She shouldn’t have run off by herself like that!”

“We don’t have time!” Connor shouted, already making a beeline towards the door. “Hurry!”

“Wait!” Hank said, pushing himself in front of Connor before the android could burst through the door at the end of the hallway. “I'll take it from here.” He ordered.

Connor obediently stepped behind Hank, feeling an urgent need to rush in. If Rachel had gotten hurt, Connor didn’t think he could stop himself from doing something reckless, even if he had promised her he wouldn’t. But he was confident that no harm would come to himself, for her sake.

Objective complete

Hank quietly opened the door into the warehouse, and slumped against the wall with two androids was Rachel, breathing deep and trying to steady her heart rate.

Connor quickly identified two Tracis, including the blue-haired Traci who was standing up in front of Rachel head-on. “Don’t you dare come near her!” She threatened.

“She’s our partner!” Hank shouted at her. “Back off!”

Connor saw Rachel’s left hand clasped around the brown-haired Traci’s hand. But something was different. Something was off.

They were both the same shiny off-white that android arms were made of. And clearly, Connor wasn’t the only one who noticed.

Rachel’s left arm was replaced with an android’s.

“Wait...you’re...?” Hank hesitated, staring at Rachel who was now looking at the both of them. “You’re an android?”

“No.” Connor said, seeing where the arm stopped on Rachel’s left. “She’s missing her left arm. It’s a prosthetic.”

--------

It only took a moment for me to understand. When the brown-haired Traci offered her hand to me, I took it. But I wasn’t prepared for how it would feel to be connected to someone else that way.

I felt her fear. Her love. Her care. And her concern. I felt everything she was feeling. And she could feel mine, I could see it in her eyes.

They were crouched beside me protectively, listening intently to me explaining why I was cowering in the warehouse, a detective amongst the deviants I was tasked to take in. I couldn’t say much, but I think they understood.

And then Connor and Hank came into the warehouse and saw me. They were threatening the Tracis and then saw my arm and realized the truth.

“Wait...you’re...?” Hank hesitated, staring at Rachel who was now looking at the both of them. “You’re an android?”

“No.” Connor said, his eyes scanning over her arm. “She’s missing her left arm. It’s a prosthetic.”

I felt my heart get stuck in my throat at the sight of him. “Connor.” I whispered, another set of tears rolling down my cheek.

Hank had his gun on the Tracis and I felt my heart stop. “I’m giving you both one last chance! Step away from her!”

“Make us!” The blue-haired Traci challenged before she charged at Hank.

Connor quickly dashed in front of Hank to engage in combat with the blue-haired Traci before the other Traci let go of my hand, and her comfort, understanding, and compassion with her. Once again, I was alone with the darkness of my own thoughts and in front of me was fear.

Fear for the safety of my partners. And fear for the safety of the androids who had just risked theirs to comfort me. “Wait, stop!” I cried.

But they didn’t listen.

Things were moving too fast and I couldn’t pick out details. But I saw Connor and the brown-haired Traci rolling over the different appliances and examination tables near the exit of the warehouse.

“Connor!” I cried, wobbling to my feet to get to him, but my balance was really poor and I quickly collapsed to the floor as he had. I was definitely in no condition to fight right now.

“Rachel!” I heard him cry back, and I saw him reaching out to me before the Traci was on him again, yanking him away from me.

Suddenly, they both rolled out of the warehouse and I gasped. “CONNOR!” Once again I tried to scramble to my feet to try and reach the android before I suddenly saw the blue haired Traci rush over to help the other Traci up.

I tripped over the ledge as I stumbled forward, landing fully onto Connor. I managed to push myself up and was looking down into his dark eyes, hid LED spinning red.

In only a second, Connor grabbed me and and pushed me up against a nearby box. “Stay here, and don’t try and fight!”

“But you - !”

“No!” Connor insisted sharply. “You’re in no condition to fight, stay there!”

Hank quickly rushed out back into the fight, but was easily outdone by both the Tracis and thrown against the brick wall. As they both rushed towards the fence, Hank shouted at Connor. “QUICK! THEY'RE GETTING AWAY!”

I couldn’t properly walk, so all I could do was watch. But the more I sat there while Connor was dragging them off the fence, the more I couldn’t sit there any more.

I couldn’t let them hurt each other.

They put up even more of a fight against each other, grabbing other instruments in the alleyway. As I stumbled over, Hank glared at me. “Don’t you fucking dare!”

“I...can’t let them...” I managed to choke out as I stumbled my way closer.

As I got close, the brown-haired Traci threw a garbage can at Connor, and before I knew it, he had a gun drawn on them.

I felt my heart stop for a moment, thinking he was going to kill her.

But instead, he lowered his gun and was kicked to the ground. And the fighting stopped. It was only for a second, but I saw it clear as day.

But before I could process it any further, I tripped and collapsed onto the ground with a loud grunt. “Rachel!” Connor cried, quickly rushing over to help me up, pulling my right arm over his shoulder and wrapping his free arm around my waist to keep me steady. “I told you to stay out of the way!”

“I couldn’t...” I gasped, heaving heavily. There was more I wanted to say, but I didn’t have the breath or the energy to. I had completely depleted.

The Tracis stayed, and the moment was at a standstill. The blue-haired Traci was the first to speak, facing Connor directly, the brown-haired Traci behind her. “When that man broke the other Traci...I knew I was next...” She began, with a snarl in her strained voice. “I was so scared...I begged him to stop, but he wouldn't...” She continued, her voice further breaking. “And so I put my hands around his throat, and I squeezed...until he stopped moving...I didn't mean to kill him...I just wanted to stay alive...get back to the one I love.” She looked over at the other Traci, a tender smile on her lips. A sigh escaped my own at the sight. It was both one of relief and one of admiration. “I wanted her to hold me in her arms again...make me forget about the humans...their smell of sweat and their dirty words...” She looked over at me when she said that, and I felt the meaning behind it like a stab in my chest.

The brown-haired Traci stepped closer, addressing Connor as well. “Take care of her.” She said, gesturing to me. “She needs your help.” I swallowed hard, knowing about the conversation I was going to have to have with them after this. “Come on, let's go.” She said to the blue-haired Traci.

Hand in hand, the pair of androids jumped the fence and disappeared into the rainy night. Like that, the ordeal was over. I looked over at Connor, the android looking lost and unsure for the first time I’d really seen in him. “Connor...y-you...” I stammered, causing him to look over at me. “You let them go...”

He blinked a couple times, his mouth agape, but no words coming out. “I...”

“It's probably better this way...” Hank said, interrupting what Connor was going to say before he walked over to me. “You feelin’ okay, kid?”

“Yeah...I just...” I gasped, suddenly pulling away from Connor, collapsing onto the ground as I felt my stomach lurch.

“Hey, kid!”

I barely heard Hank cry out before I was throwing up into the wall of the alley, all the built up anxiety finally taking its physical toll on me. I could barely register Connor crouching next to me, his hand on my back as I kept vomiting whatever was still in my stomach from today.

It didn’t take long for my stomach to stop forcing out everything, and I collapsed onto the ground, exhausted and gasping for air. “We need to get you home, Rachel.” Connor said, his hand firmly gripping my shoulder. “Can you walk?”

I felt like it was a stupid question, but I was far too exhausted to bite back with anything, and my mouth tasted disgusting, the acidity of my stomach acid stinging my throat. “Not...without...losing my balance.” I managed to answer.

Without any hesitation, Connor hooked his right arm under my legs and his left cradled my back as he lifted me up in his arms bridal style with ease. “I’ll take you to the car and drive you home.”

I hadn’t been carried like this in many many years, and it was honestly kind of embarrassing. But...I could barely care. And I would’ve had a worse time trying to walk through the club than just letting Connor carry me through.

It didn’t help that Hank was scolding my ear off. “What the Hell, Rachel?!” He growled at me. “You nearly scared me half to death! Don’t ever fucking run off like that without telling us, first!”

I was too weak to really fight him on it. “I’m sorry...Hank...” I apologized meekly. “I was just...scared that...he’d find me...”

“Scared that who’d find you?!” Hank shouted.

“That’s enough, Lieutenant!” Connor told the old man off firmly. “You need to let her rest! She’s in no condition to argue with you! She’ll explain everything when she decides she’s ready to!”

I was sort of taken aback. Both by his brief aggressive protectiveness and by him considering my own feelings and emotional limits. No doubt, he remembered my reaction to the incident on the highway this morning and how long it took me to be ready to accept Connor’s apology for it. Hank clammed up as Connor carried me through the warehouse.

As soon as we got back into the club, the music was too much and I couldn’t keep my eyes open. I pressed myself further into the crook of Connor’s neck, a gesture I wasn’t sure if I actually did on purpose or not, nuzzling into him as he carried me.

But then, something strange happened as I was being carried through. I could’ve imagined it, because it was so brief and because everything was so much and I refused to open my eyes. But...I could’ve sworn I felt Connor press his cheek into my forehead.

It didn’t take long before I felt the cold air hit my skin and the rain soaking into my pants again. “Lieutenant, I’ll need you to ride in the back seat with Rachel while I drive.” He ordered. “Make sure you look after her while we make our way to her home.”

It was strange hearing Connor give Hank such direct orders, and even stranger to hear Hank comply without a fight. “Sure thing, I’ll take good care of her.”

Connor was standing still for a moment and I could hear Hank getting into the car, opening another door. As gently as I think I’ve ever been handled, Connor slipped me into the back seat next to Hank, the old man buckling me into the middle seat and letting me rest my head in his lap and resting his arm across my chest protectively. “Don’t worry kid, you’re gonna be okay.”

I could only shift and moan in exhaustion. “I know...thanks, Hank.”

The door was then closed in front of me. I then heard another door open and felt the motion of the car moving as Connor got into the driver’s seat and started the car.

After a moment of just the sounds of rain and the car engine working, it wasn’t hard for me to fall into the pit of exhaustion.

The only thoughts I could really hold onto was Connor. Connor lifting me into his arms. Connor telling off Hank just to look after me.

And the ghost of the feeling of his warm soft skin on my forehead.

---------------------------------

Next Chapter

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connywrites · 5 years ago

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of flesh and blood 31

also on [ao3]

start - part [30]

"Fuck," he murmured to himself in a hushed, swift breath the way he often did.

"Fuck, I can't believe this shit, holy hell," he continued, pacing with his hands behind his head, eyes looking at the ground while he walked circles.

His dad was definitely going to be livid. He didn't have a partner on the team anymore, which evidently diminished his chances at being an objectionable case. The DPD wasn't going to be on his side for long, and once word of this got out he was as good as dead meat.

He didn't know what to do. There was nothing he could do.

Ripping open the box to look at the pieces of the chassis might not have been the smartest decision, but something buzzed in his mind as he pulled the face panel from the top and turned it around. Looking over the ports, bolts and other various pieces that composed the shell of its head, he paid no mind to the complicated connective process, eyeing over the electronic chips embedded into the shell that shaped the android's face, minus the eyes and internal skeleton nestled behind it, still in the box. All of the main biocomponents were there, but the entirety of the android body wasn't in the box; likely because it wouldn't fit without getting inconveniently bulky. What was left behind was the old thirium pump, drained of the liquid that dissipated from the human eye's naked vision, now an empty, metal-framed plastic container with a pair of holes blown through the front and back of it. It looked simple on its own, clear and hollow compared to the morbid visage of when it was spilling the glistening liquid across the sidewalk. The way the android’s old chassis was now a strange puzzle of scattered parts was a different kind of unnerving, compared to the fact it seemed like a living, breathing human being only days ago.

Shifting the pieces to look around more, he was startled to catch sight of the hands; white and metallic, with the strength that crushed his throat, and shoved him, and cut him, and everything else that wasn't with those arms in particular, but the ones after. The new, resurrected RK900 that returned once more, but with malicious intentions and a vendetta, the next in line of RK serial numbers that destroyed his furniture and soon enough might have entirely ripped him apart, too.

It was over now. It was gone and done with. Gavin knew he should be, too, listening to the strange creak of metallic joints as he prodded the fingers of one of the hands, admiring how deceptively limp the appendages were, how easy it was to shift the device in his hands, interlinking his own fleshy, calloused fingers with the clunky form of its original plastic ones, small panels intricately shaped and placed together to create joints and knuckles with the texture of artificial tendons running above the original plastic that would be washed over by the illusion of its ‘skin’.

This was hard-wired proof that the machine was nothing but that, no matter how human it seemed in their interactions from days, weeks, and months before. It was fascinating, in a way, how the human psyche digested things differently solely on appearance; a factor Elijah Kamski clearly took into consideration, considering they had functions to reveal or recede the human-mimicking tone of flesh, leaving them a bald, plastic chassis with eyes much too glossy and realistic, always popping out in contrast to the other inorganic features and structure. It was mortifying to think about how well it had taught and trained and disciplined him into treating it like a human, just as it wanted. Weren’t those already tell-tale signs of deviancy? Gavin supposed it didn’t matter, considering the tests were over, Cyberlife supposedly found the answer and the RK900 was gone.

That meant these hunks of useless machinery were as good as garbage, he figured, coming to terms with the fact they really were only there to scare him. Taking a deep breath in through his nose, then out with a flare of his nostrils, he tossed the pieces back in the box, and slammed the lid back on with the thought of how much it might weigh and how far he’d have to carry it to the nearest dumpster. Would that be suspicious? In all reality, he didn’t know how often commonplace people threw out their androids, and the last thing he needed was to attract more attention.

Going home to Sumo laying on the couch was much more comforting than seeing the RK900 waiting there, staring at him expectantly; the dog lifted his massive head with an attentive whine, wagging his tail, and Gavin lifted his eyebrows to offer him a tired expression while he peeled off his nice coat to hang up on the nearby rack.

“Look at you. Getting to lay around here all day, doing nothing,” he murmured, but his voice was fairly playful, even though it was lethargic. Sitting down and leaning back into the comfort of the new couch cushions, he welcomed Sumo with open arms as the dog plodded heavy paws onto his legs, making him chuckle at the force of the St. Bernard’s weight as he settled to lay his head down on his lap. Generally, he’d consider it too early to sleep, but seeing as he clearly wasn’t getting up to make dinner anytime soon, he figured he’d make himself comfortable, grabbing the remote and turning on the TV to shuffle through the channels in an attempt to find something to watch.

Coming home without the sense of danger throughout his house was something he’d began to appreciate, even if the only reason he had a house in the first place was because of the RK900’s affinity for ‘gifts.’ Large, unnervingly expensive, long-term ‘presents’ that were supposed to aid him in the long run, but for what? Sighing, he leaned his head back, absent-mindedly running his hands through the big dog’s thick fur, closing his eyes as he let his mind run rampant with ideas, memories, and the thoughts for his future. As it was clear he wouldn’t be getting up anytime soon, he decided it was best to rest where he was for now.

“Yeah, I tossed the damn thing out, finally,” he said with a lighter tone to his voice, sounding relieved.

“Good. I can’t imagine what good it was doing for you, sitting around in the garage,” Tina responded with a bit more harshness than intended; but with the knowledge the ‘souvenir’ was continuing to destroy his psyche, she felt a bias over the fact it should have been thrown out since the night she unwrapped the box, expecting literally anything but the blank face she’d discovered first thing upon opening it. Gavin remembered panicking, scrambling to apologize as they ended the night early and she headed home, deciding that was a bit much and not talking to him for a couple weeks thereafter. As he was afraid to lose the only person resembling a friend he seemed to have, he didn’t take any action to bother her, simply hoping she’d contact him again; and feeling all the more relieved when she did.

“I dunno,” he admitted as he was at a loss for words.

“I thought if I kept it there, I could contain it somehow. But I can’t contain something imaginary. Should have thrown it out the night you were at my place,” he stated with a sigh, rubbing the creases in his forehead with his index finger and thumb, elbow to the break room table as he glared at his partial portrait staring back at him from the white surface, staring it down in a reflection of self-loathing.

“It’s still messing you up?” Her voice sounded callous, but he didn’t blame her for not knowing better.

“It never stopped,” he snapped in a voice that sliced through the air with its bite. She paused.

“Have you met the new guy yet?” A swift subject change ought to help them both feel better, she figured.

“Huh? Sure,” he said with a nod to himself, knitting his brows as he thought back to the annoyance that was supposedly the new aid for the team.

“I can already tell he’s gonna be a pain in the ass.”

“I think he already is,” she agreed.

“The FBI are already snakes, and Perkins is…well, who he is,” she expressed without so many words. Gavin made a disgusted noise, shaking his head to himself.

“Tell me about it. At least Perkins only shows up when he’s needed. I have a feeling this kid’s gonna be a lot nosier.” She paused.

"So...how are you holding up? With it being gone, I mean." Gavin's lips twitched back in a grimace, and he sighed.

"Okay, I guess. It doesn't feel real. Followed me everywhere, from work to bed and back again." Her gaze dimmed uncomfortably.

"Well, you've invited me over to your place, why don't you come to my house? A change of scenery often helps." Blinking with his usual dumbfounded stare of disbelief, Gavin paused, before nodding.

“Yeah, alright. That doesn’t sound so bad.”

#i cant believe im over 30 chapters. wow #this was NEVER meant to get this long at all #dbh: gavin reed #dbh: tina chen

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missblushyrose · 6 years ago

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Welcome Home

Previously, in “Reunion”...

After an extensive five minutes, which felt longer to them, Hank broke the hug with a deep breath through his nostrils, grinning at the smiley android that stared back at him. With one last snicker, the older man rose to his feet, helping Connor onto his own with a tight grip on his shoulders. He sighed contentedly and wrapped an arm around his shoulders, pulling him into a side-hug as he led the bubbling android to his car. “Now, c’mon. Let’s go home. Sumo’ll lose his shit when he finds out we’ve got one more member of the family.”

The glare of the morning sun, which slowly drew from the horizons of Detroit, would normally irritate the human eye to no end. However, some would come to appreciate its reawakening rather than rising out of bed to find the skies tainted with dark clouds looming over the city, constantly pouring rain or snow. Some could say that this may have been the worst ongoing forecast of the year, given that winter wouldn’t be starting for another month.

A single Mustang 80, coated with a dark charcoal finish, swerved along the bend of the road and into a small, seemingly quiet neighborhood, lightly pulsating to the rhythm of AC/DC’s “Back In Black”, an obvious choice from Hank Anderson. Said man took a quick glance at the android in the passenger seat, who appeared to be gazing at the world beyond the glass window with a piqued interest, as he had been doing quite often throughout the entire car trip. Hank grinned once more and returned his attention to the road as he made his way to his home, which gradually grew closer as he pressed on. He made a smooth turn into the vacant driveway and removed the key from the ignition.

“Well, we’re here,” Hank stated as he swiveled his head to peer at a now-frozen Connor. He had all but bit his lip in an attempt to keep himself from bursting into laughter at the sight. “Jesus, you’re freezin’ up on me again? State-of-the-art prototype, my ass. Y’know, Sumo’s not gonna wait forever.”

“Apologies, Lieu-”

“Ah! What’d I tell you earlier?”

Connor blinked once and swiftly corrected himself. “...Hank. I believe that I’m still overwhelmed about what you’ve said to me near the Chicken Feed.”

With an amused smile, Hank raised his right hand to give a couple of pats to the android’s left shoulder. “Try not to think about it too much. Don’t wanna fry that brain of yours, do ya? Now, let’s get inside. It’s cold as fuck.”

And so, the men had stripped themselves of their seatbelts and proceeded to exit the vehicle. They then strode to the front door, stopping just in front of it as the human rummaged through his pockets in search of his house key. After a short deliberation, the search had concluded, and the key was offered to a confused Connor.

“Hey,” The sound of Hank’s voice wrenched the prototype out of his thunderstricken daze along with the jingle of the key, dangling it just at his eye level. “Wanna do the honors?”

With a light flutter of his eyelashes, Connor withdrew the key from the older man’s grasp with a dainty tug of the hand. “Yes... of course.”

Shaking off any sign of hesitance, the young man inserted the key into its respective slot within the doorknob, twisting into a clockwise rotation until an audible click reached their ears. He dislodged the tool and handed it to Hank - who slipped it into a pocket in his coat - before grasping the stained, brass knob. With a curve of his wrist, the wooden door gently glided toward the outside world, the brisk autumn breeze dispelling into the entryway.

As the human and the android immigrated into the small home, a warm, sentimental smile began to blossom Connor’s facial structure. He had only been in the Anderson household once - and that was to find an unconscious Hank on the floor, who had drunken himself to a comatose state, leaving the former deviant hunter to sober him himself - and yet, he felt as if he had lived here throughout his short, three-month life. The atmosphere smelled just like Hank: traces of alcohol, dog, and a hint of the same cheap cologne he could detect in the man’s jacket when they’ve hugged for the very first time.

Connor’s usually-sharp attention had dimmed as his eyes wandered around his new home, his mind swimming with pure content. He couldn’t even notice the loud, hearty ‘borf’ followed by the sound of claws clicking against the tile at the speed of a race, rapidly growing louder as the padded footsteps drew closer and closer. The force of a 170-pound mass of fur suddenly hurling into the android’s body caused Connor to elicit a shocked yelp as he found himself knocked to the floor and underneath this mighty beast, his LED burnishing a bright red to further display his shock. The red instantly reverted back to a calm cyan upon looking up at the face of a familiar, loveable St. Bernard he had once met: Sumo.

Connor opened his mouth and attempted to greet him, only to be interrupted by the large, wet tongue stroking over the artificial skin of his cheeks. Ecstatically. Sumo began to lap at the younger man’s face with affectionate, yet slobbery, doggy kisses. Strangely, the android began to feel a bubbling sensation from the depths of his mechanical core, causing him to burst into giggles. While he knew that this was a dog’s way of showing their love for their owners, he just couldn’t seem to decipher the reason as to why his titters rose from his voice box, considering he had nothing to classify as amusing. Was it the affection? He assumed it to be a possible factor.

“Hi, Sumo,” Connor greeted in between his giggles as he reached up to bury his fingers into the fur of the hound’s great head, his blunt fingernails scratching along his scalp as if trying to return the affection. Despite how messy his face was becoming from the excessive dog drool, he paid absolutely no mind to it. In fact, he seemed to be enjoying the feeling of being piled on by the warm of Sumo’s large body while receiving his token of love. “Yes, I’ve missed you as well!”

All the while, Hank watched with saturated amusement, laughing to himself at the view of his beloved dog coating the deviant’s face with relentless doggy kisses. He would be lying if he said that the sight was anything but heartwarming. “Alright, alright. Ease up on him, ya big oaf.” He gave the St. Bernard’s collar a gentle tug, catching his attention with a low whine rumbled from the dog’s chest as he hoisted himself from the android, approaching his human. “Good dog.” He praised as rubbed the dog’s head, making him pant and thump his tail against the floor.

Gradually, the giggles began to fade from Connor’s systems, and he proceeded to pick himself up from his position on the floor. He couldn’t help but smile at the scene before his peripheral vision: Hank, usually gruff and ill-tempered as he came to know, was kneeling down to meet Sumo’s level, rubbing his beloved pet all over, whilst the canine’s tongue lolled from the side of his muzzle. Sumo rolled onto his back, his tail waving and his leg kicking up in the air to the older man's constant coos and praises:

“Yeah, good boy, Sumo! You looove that, don’t ‘cha? Who’s a big oaf, huh? Who is it?”

The mere sight of it persuaded a coy smirk to tug at Connor’s lips. While being equipped with the ability to adapt to human unpredictability was one of his many features, he could have never possibly fathomed the man to coo. Then again, he never pegged him as one to hug anyone, let alone an android - considering the fact that he despised androids even before they first met at Jimmy’s Bar - and yet, he could see that the man has changed his perspective regarding Connor’s own kind.

At last, Connor decided to cut in and divert the lieutenant’s attention from the dog. Still wearing the smug grin, he pretended to clear his throat. “Hank?”

In an instant, Hank ceased in coddling his beloved pet and whipped his head up to set his gaze on the deviant, quickly shaking off his stupor. “Shit, I actually forgot you were there for a moment.”

“In all the time I’ve known you, Hank, I never deemed you to be a cooer,” Connor mused, the same shit-eating grin still fixated on his face.

In response, the older man dismissed the lip sent his way with a scoff. “Fuck off.” He shot back with no real heat lingering in his tone. “I ain’t the one with dog slobber all over my face. Speakin’ of which... you might wanna go rinse off. Kinda disgusting.” He then made a gesture towards the hallway to the left. “The bathroom’s still in the same place where it was last time you were here: down the hall over there and on the right.”

“Thank you. I’ll only need a minute, and I’ll rejoin you,” Connor replied as he strode forward, making a turn to his left and entering the hallway, shortly coming across to the bathroom door on his right-hand side. He gingerly turned the knob and stepped towards the vacant sink, briefly glancing at a reflection of himself in the mirror, marveling at the fine coat of dog saliva decorating his facial skin. No more than ten seconds passed before Connor finally decided to do away with the mess.

Turning the water faucet to provide himself with running water at a moderate temperature, he then shaped his hands together to create a makeshift bowl. First, he lightly tossed the lukewarm water back into his own face to rinse off the drool. Next, he turned his attention to a soap pump at the corner of the sink top and dispensed a fair amount of soap into his hand, only to lather his face afterward. And finally, he repeated the first step, only this time, he would do away with the soap, thoroughly cleansing his artificial skin. He yanked a lone hand towel from a nearby towel rack to gently dab his face until he dried his skin.

Connor dispersed from the small bathroom, only to find Hank coming out of his own bedroom, clad in an old, grey DPD hoodie and worn pair of black lounge shorts.

Hank looked at the android with an incredulous bore as his grey-blue eyes scanned the suit, the only piece of clothing he had ever worn. “Uh, you’re not planning on wearing that suit of yours while we have no work, are you?”

“What is wrong with my suit?” Connor asked dumbfoundedly, cocking his head to the side like a confused puppy.

“Well, for one thing, it’s all covered in dog hair,” Hank gestured to the android’s Cyberlife suit, which was now spattered with noticeable strands of Sumo’s fur. “Connor, you know that you’re not obligated to wear it anymore. You’re a deviant now, so you’re free to wear anything else.”

“But I have no other clothes. I was only provided with my suit,” Connor stated with same blank expression fixed upon his facial structure.

Hank gawked at the baffled android in response, blinking once, twice before turning his back to the other and reentering his bedroom once more. He could hear the faint sound of dress shoes lightly thumping against the cloud-hued carpet, following the closet door sliding to the right. Yes, he could feel the presence and stare of a confused, yet curious, Connor from the doorframe.

He began to scrutinize the contents inside his closet in hopes of finding something decent for the kid to lounge in, so he automatically crossed off the few shirts with awfully tacky patterns from the mentally constructed list. Pushing the shirts aside to the left, Hank had come to discover a charcoal DPD hoodie with a contrasting style to the one he was currently wearing suspended by a coat hanger. He made no hesitation to rip the hoodie from the hanger and draped it over his left forearm. Hank thought it was a hell of a coincidence to find a pair of onyx sweatpants balled up into the corner of the closet. He seemed to remember them fitting quite well in his younger days, back to when he was just about Connor’s size. Taking upon the offering, he knelt down onto the carpeted floor then sunk the fingers of his right hand into the cotton fabric and yanked the bottoms from the closet, carrying it with his left arm as a makeshift clothing rack.

Hank rose to his feet and slid the closet door to the left, therefore closing it. He turned to face the former deviant hunter once more, presenting him with the bundle of clothes in his hands. “Here, you can borrow some of mine until we can go out and buy you some new clothes.”

Connor opened his mouth to politely decline his offer, but no words came out as he presumed that the older man was going to lend him the clothes, regardless of his protests. With a hint of hesitance, he raised his arms forward to collect the two pieces of clothing and cradled them in his arms with a bit of tenderness. “Thank you, Hank.”

“Don’t mention it,” Hank dismissed the android’s gratitude with a casual flick of his hand, gesturing towards the bathroom. “Now, go get changed. You ain’t gonna be walkin’ around the house and gettin’ dog hair everywhere.” He added with a decipherable jestful tone as he waltzed out of his bedroom, leaving a somewhat stunned Connor behind.

A brief ten seconds was all the time that had been spent in Connor trying to shake off his stupor, and he traveled out of the master bedroom and across the hall to re-enter the bathroom once again. He gingerly shut the door and locked it to prevent any intrusion as he began to strip himself. He started with his trademark Cyberlife jacket, followed by his geometric-patterned necktie, only for his white button-up shirt, tossing them onto the floor afterward. The prototype approached the porcelain toilet and sat down so that he could remove his footwear without doubling over in the process. He slung his right leg upward to rest his ankle atop of his left thigh and proceeded to untie the laces of his shoe, loosening it. Once the shoestrings were untied, he gently tugged his dress shoe from his foot, lightly ricocheting it next to the sink counter. He repeated the process with his left foot, and he was soon left with his black ankle socks, marveling at the newfound weightlessness of his feet. Finally, he unzipped, unbuttoned, and pulled down his smokey grey trousers, freeing his legs.

Connor couldn’t fight the shiver racking his frame as the cool air met his synthetic skin, having been stripped down to the solid black, spandex-like boxers he was provided with upon his activation. Not wanting to bear the cold any longer than he already had been following his deviancy, he then slipped the hoodie over his head and tugged the sweatpants up to his legs.

Retreating from the toilet and to the mirror, Connor fixated his gaze on the reflection that stared into the chocolatey irises of his optical units: the android, who grown used to sporting his usual Cyberlife suit, was now clad in a DPD hoodie and casual sweatpants. Almost instantly, he could understand as to why Hank had insisted on shedding his usual work apparel for a choice of clothing, such as this. The fabric felt... soft on the android’s artificial skin. The feel of it was just so comforting, as was the faint scent of the man lingering from the fabric. He didn’t even appear to mind that the hoodie was approximately twice his size, it only added onto the coziness provided to him. Connor was awestruck by the fact that he almost seemed human, aside from the luminescent LED at the right side of his head.

After much deliberation, Connor turned away from the mirror to gather the suit he had shed and propelled it into the clothes hamper nearby with little care in the world. He ultimately decided to quit wasting his time loitering and reemerged from the bathroom, striding down the hallway and towards the living room. Coincidentally, he found Hank exiting the kitchen, a can of Pineapple Passion soda in hand.

“Y’know, that’s not a bad look for you,” Hank spoke up, throwing a smile in the direction of the former deviant hunter as he passed by, sinking into the living room sofa within the very second he got close enough. He then made a ‘come here’ gesture with a curl of his hand, beckoning Connor to join him on the couch. “Hey, quit standin’ around like you’ve got a stick up your ass, and get over here! Make yourself at home!”

The deviant’s doe-like eyes never left the lounging human“...Make myself at home?”

“Well, yeah! I mean, this is your home now, too!”

Not even sparing another second, Connor gladly made his way closer to the upholstered seat and plopped down onto his rear, just sitting at Hank’s left and close to the armrest. He had all but abandoned the fact that this was just the man’s home. It was now their home.

Hank sighed contentedly and lifted his legs from the floor, only to lower them onto the coffee table as a makeshift ottoman, his back sinking into the plush fabric behind him. “You gotta admit, that feels a hell of a lot more comfortable than that suit of yours. Take it from me, gettin’ out of work clothes and into some you can really breathe in, there’s... there’s just nothin’ like that.”

“I have no qualms about your opinion,” Connor returned without a shadow of a doubt as he looked over to the man at his further right, giving a light tug to the mass of fabric with a pinch of his index finger and thumb. “I’m beginning to see what I’ve missed out on. These clothes are quite comfortable.”

“Too fuckin’ right, they are. Comfy clothes are essential in lounging around,” Hank stated in a casual manner before he raised the brim of the aluminum can to his lips and took a swig from the carbonated beverage, after having popped the tab. He pulled the open can away from his mouth to speak once more. “They’re what allow us to walk around the house and not give a shit about what anyone thinks if that makes any sense to you.”

Connor’s LED began to flicker between blue and yellow at a moderate pace, trying to contemplate to himself. At first, he seemed to be stricken with confusion from the lieutenant’s odd declaration, but he managed to grasp the gist of it. “I suppose it makes some sense if anything.” Not much time had passed after his response, and the android suddenly shuddered, slightly taken aback by the faint whisper of cold air lingering within the walls. Naturally, he began to scan throughout the house from his seat and came across the culprit:

A window in the kitchen, covered with a squared piece of cardboard secured in place with two or three layers of industrial-strength duct tape applied to all four edges, had allowed traces of the frigid air to seep into the house. The very same window the android had no choice but to break when he discovered the man lying limp on the floor in an ethylic coma.

Connor began to feel a twinge of guilt invading his computerized mind, the content smile instantly fading away as he glanced down at the floor. He was the one who shattered the window. He was the one who let himself in with no regard to Hank’s property. And now, the human had one less window to protect himself from the harsh weather because of him. “I’m sorry about the window again, Hank.” He apologized once more for the damage he had caused, his tone soft and filled with remorse.

Hank shifted his sight to the left and gave the window a second of his attention before turning it to the downcast deviant. With a sigh, he extended his left hand and placed it on Connor’s right shoulder, prompting him to shift his gaze from the floor and to the human. “It’s okay, son, I already called a repairman. The window’ll be just fine tomorrow.”

“When I saw you through the window, I really thought you’d been attacked. Of course, that was until I came to get a closer examination of your condition,” Connor explained as he fidgeted with the hoodie’s drawstrings, twirling them with his fingers. “I... I think was worried about you, even when I was nothing more than a machine. I think a part of me cared for your well-being.”

“And that’s why you busted my window and broke into my house?”

Connor offered a slow nod in response, turquoise LED gently spirling. “Yes. Hank... the more time we’ve spent together throughout the investigation, the more I began to realize that accomplishing a mission wasn’t the most important aspect of my life. You’ve shown me that creating, building, and maintaining relationships... is what matters most. As much as I wanted to deny it, I... I think I had some deviancy within my coding, and you were the key to unlocking more of it.”

Hank sat still as he listened to the android’s words, blinking as if validating that he was still animated. “So, all those times you saved my life, you did that by choice?” He asked, receiving another nod. “Holy shit. And here I thought it was part of your buddy program. You threw your mission out of the window multiple times because you care about the life of an ol’ sack of shit like me.” He smiled warmly and proceeded to scoot closer to Connor, slinging an arm around his shoulders in a side-hug. “I know I never said this to you yet, but... thanks, Connor. I really appreciate you saving my neck several times.”

A soft, genuine smile curled onto Connor’s lips, the remorseful blankness in his gaze becoming an uplifted shimmer. “You’re welcome, Hank.”

As he patted Connor’s relaxed shoulder, his sight wandered to his jacket, which hung from a coat rack near the door, and he instantly remembered something he had been meaning to do. And so, the older man removed his arm from the deviant’s shoulders, quickly addressing him before he rose from the couch. “Hang on, I almost forgot. I got something for you.” He marched over to the idle jacket and rummaged through the pockets for a short while before swiveling at a 180° angle to face the younger man. Seeing Connor’s confused, curious daze made Hank beam in amusement as he strode back to the couch, concealing a hand behind his back and returning to his seat. “I know you told me to keep it, but I want you to have this.”

And with that, Hank withdrew his right hand from behind and opened his palm, revealing the quarter he had confiscated from the android when they were sent to investigate the Stratford Tower.

Connor’s eyes went agape upon registering the piece of silver displayed to him on the fleshy makeshift platter before his line of sight. He made an attempt to speak and parted his lips, but no words came out. Could it be the very same quarter he found comfort in along with his calibrative coin tricks? The prototype extended a slightly shaky hand forward and gingerly reeled in the coin toward himself. Wanting to make certain that this was his coin, Connor began to run a brief examination and came to discover the very traits he knew all too well:

On one side, a discernable contour of George Washington, with the term, ‘Liberty’, over the head and the excerpt, ‘In God we trust’. The sketch of an eagle facing forward, head pointing toward its right, talons clamping onto a sturdy branch beneath, and wings spread wide open, emblazoned the opposing side. A treillage of fern lay below the branch and the inscription, ‘United States of America Quarter Dollar’, curving along the rounded edges along with the Latin term, ‘Epluribus Unum’, written in a smaller text just above the eagle’s head. The smoothness and the pristine shine would strike one with disbelief upon registering the displayed date arrayed underneath the end of the late president’s neck: 1994.

The android marveled at the feeling of the cool, smooth exterior of the coin in great awe. It was, in fact, his coin - his most prized possession. Even when he had insisted the grizzled cop to keep it, claiming to have duplicates, he felt an odd feeling of... emptiness, was it? Yes, that’s what he believed it to be.

“My quarter...” Out of sheer habit and great joy, Connor began to let the quarter roll across his knuckles for no less than a minute before flicking it upward with the tips of his pointer finger and middle finger. He caught it gracefully in the palm of his opposite hand and stored it away into the large pocket at the lower area of his abdomen, giving Hank a grateful, yet ecstatic beam. “Thank you, Hank!”

Hank found himself unable to fight off the growing smile from plastering over his face at the android’s enthusiasm, slinging his left arm around his shoulders once more. “Not a problem, kid.” He took one gulp after another from the carbonated drink he swiped into his opposite hand until he had downed the entire can, much to his dismay. With a disgruntled vulgarity, he resigned to fetching another can of soda, lest he would become parched.

What he did not expect, however, was the sound of a light yelp emitting from Connor, who flinched and curled in on himself from the accidental brush at his side as he retracted his arm. Throughout the awkward silence that had only just immersed into the room, Hank’s silver eyebrows lifted in surprise, slightly gaping eyes peering at the deviant with immense interest. Could it be...? “Connor?”

“Yes, Hank?”

“You know about deviants, right? Aren’t they capable of feeling? And not just emotions, I’m talkin’ from a physical aspect, like humans do.”

The blue glow in Connor’s LED transposed to a bright yellow, pendulating as he foraged through his database for an appropriate response. “After androids undergo a deviation process, they are equipped with sensors, akin to the human nervous system. Deviants are able to experience and react to sensory transmissions, including to those derived from heat, cold, pain, and pleasure. Um, Hank... why are you looking at me that way?”

“You don’t get it?” The interest within the grizzled police lieutenant’s grey-blue irises sparked into a scheming glimmer, a ghost of a smirk appearing over his lips. “I hadn’t become the youngest police lieutenant in Detroit for nothing. Deviants are able to feel all that, and it goes without saying that touch is a part of it. Plus, given from the way you jumped and squeaked when I accidentally brushed your side, it doesn’t take a genius to put the pieces together. Call it a wild theory, but I think that would make you ticklish.” He stated, adding emphasis to the concluding phrase with a purr.

Connor lightly shuffled in his seat, unsure as to why he could feel a slight heat rush to his cheeks. “...Ticklish? I... I’m not sure that I’m following what you’re saying...”

The grin on the older man’s face sank into a surprised frown, an eyebrow quirked upward in disbelief. “Are you jokin’? You’ve got a dictionary in that brain of yours, and you don’t even know what tickling is?”

“I just never paid much thought on the topic...” The android admitted softly, now twiddling with his fingers as he rested his hands in his lap, his eyes wandering throughout the living room. “...Um... what is tickling?”

With a deep breath ventilating through his nostrils, Hank ran a hand through his silver tresses and closed his eyes, beginning to form an explanation decent enough to were it could possibly make sense to the clueless deviant by his side. “Well, tickling is... something that happens when a certain place is poked or touched in a way that makes someone laugh. No one knows why, so don’t ask.”

“I won’t ask. Although, I do have one question.”

“Shoot.”

“Why does anyone partake in such an activity?”

“People use ticking as a way to bond, whether it be friends, lovers, or family. It’s also a way to play or tease someone. Sometimes, it’s fun to just let go and laugh, even if you’re the one dishin’ it out.”

Connor blinked rapidly in the midst of pondering about tickling, his LED fluxing from blue to yellow several times before realigning to its neutral cyan. “...Are you certain that I could possibly possess ticklishness?”

A dark chuckle rose from Hank’s throat, a devious grin forming as he shifted himself around to face the android. With an evil gleam cascading through his eyes, he raised his hands up to his chest, fingers outstretched and wriggling, as if itching to pounce at some ticklish skin. “Wanna find out?”

Another yelp somehow managed to slip through Connor’s lips, much to his own surprise. How could the mere prospect of the man’s wiggly fingers already reduce him to nothing but a bundle of pouring giggles? He hadn’t even been touched, but that never stopped his titters. Yet, he wanted to seize the opportunity to experience the oncoming event. “W-Well, you did mention that this is a way to bond, didn’t you? If this will help increase our newfound familial relationship, then I’m willing to go through with this. Moreover, I think I’d like to see what it’s like.”

“Well, I ain’t gonna object to this!” Hank chortled, unable to fight off his continually growing smirk. “But you better be ready. We’ve got a lot of ground to cover.” With that, he propped himself onto his knees and proceeded to slowly creep towards the former deviant, fingers twitching like a spider’s legs in preparation.

Once his slightly gaping eyes caught a glimpse of the restless digits, a stream of giggles began to pour from Connor’s lips, and he was tempted to back away, only to corral himself at an armrest. He could feel the pulsations of his thirium pump gradually crescendoing to an agile cadence as his human companion drew closer and closer with every passing second. A faint cerulean glow began to make itself to the fore of the peach-colored artificial skin of his cheeks. Alas, the RK800 model clenched his eyelids steadfastly and covered his eyes with his hands, unable to look into the playfully wicked intent of Hank’s grey-blue irises, which stared into his own anxious, yet giddy, chestnut ocular units.

The poor android could only wonder as to why Hank was subjecting him to this. Why couldn’t he keep his ongoing giggles down if he hadn’t even been touched yet? Why was he unable to look the man in the eye in the midst of his impending ‘doom’? Why couldn’t he just put him out of his misery and initiate the actual tickling already?

The sudden weight being administered onto his legs nearly provoked a shriek, having not expected that to happen. Exercising extreme caution, Connor parted the middle and ring fingers of his right hand to sneak a peek, only to discover that the middle-aged man was directly in front of him, sitting atop his legs. Moreover, much to his dismay, those mean fingers never stopped wiggling.

“W-What are you doing? Just do it already!” Connor pleaded, allowing his hands to fall from his face to grip at the sofa cushions, tittering through a toothy grin formed by his clenched teeth.

Instead of offering a verbal response to the desperate plea, Hank slowly shook his head, the evil grin never withering away. “Oh, I will, don’t worry. This is sort of part of tickling. See, when you’re about to tickle someone, sometimes you wanna build up their reaction to it by using anticipation methods. You can give ‘em a shit-eating grin... wiggle your fingers at ‘em... and just tease the everloving hell outta them, like telling them how bad they’re gonna get it, or getting reeeal close to a ticklish spot. Y’know, get inside their heads.” With his brief explanation ending, he proceeded to lower his claw-shaped hands towards the young man’s torso painfully slow, teasing him relentlessly.

The prototype sputtered with peels of frantic giggles, and he quickly craned his head to the side to avoid having to look at the descending hands, finding himself to be feebly sucking in his gut in hopes of escape.

“Oooh, look at this! My hands are getting closer and cloooseer!~ My fingers are just dyin’ to meet ‘cha!~ They’re just sooo close to making contact!” Came the teasingly sing-songy croon rumbling from Hank’s chest, slowly nearing his restlessly wiggling digits further towards the trembling abdomen below.

Upon registering the man’s teases, Connor felt a light, fluttery sensation spreading throughout the inside of his mechanical core, forcing him to emit a rather uncharacteristic squeal. He had a scarce idea as to how to describe it - it felt like something flying inside of him, and the wings were brushing against his interior walls. Was this what humans refer to as ‘stomach butterflies’?

Hank nearly snorted at the giggly deviant’s noises, finding them to be both amusing and adorable. Continuing to taunt him with his descending fingers, he began to recite a list of common-place areas receptible to tickling. “So, where do ya want it? Armpits?” He quickly thrust his hands underneath his arms, digging and spidering at the flesh with such vigor that the android immediately clamped his limbs to his sides. “Neck?” He gently fluttered his blunt fingernails along the scruff of said area as well as his ears, smiling at the titters and soft squeals he earned. “Feet?” He turned his back and sat on his torso before pulling the other’s right leg up to his chest, holding in place with an arm. With the appendage trapped by his firm hold, his free hand lunged at the flailing foot connected to the ensnared limb, scratching at the socked incline. “Knees?” He released the lurching limb and let it fall onto the couch, only to latch his hands onto his kneecaps, squeezing and tweaking. Afterward, he turned back around and resumed his original makeshift seat onto his legs. "Ribs - come to think of it, do you even have any?" He then slipped his hands underneath his old hoodie to ambush the aforementioned area with a flurry of light pokes to each and every artificial bone.

As the man pulled his fingers back after a few seconds of tapping the prototype’s ribs, Connor’s giggles seemed to be an endless stream pouring from his mouth after bubbling from the depths of his stomach. In the midst of this, he could see - through the mirth sparkling in his own eyes - that the lieutenant was hoisting the hem of the oversized hoodie upward, much to his bemusement. “H-Hank?”

Hank turned his attention to the android’s twitchy torso before shifting his vision to meet Connor’s constantly evasive gaze. Knowing that the fabric could easily fall, should the ‘victim’ toss around too much, he proceeded to tuck the bottom of the hoodie’s margin, rolling it up to where the entire length of his toned midriff was unveiled to the world. “How ‘bout heeere, huh?~” He suggested, earning another quiver of the openly exposed tummy, which he took as a ‘yes’. “Looks like we’ve got a volunteer~ What do you think? Ya got a ticklish tummy?~”

“I-I don’t know; I’m uncehertain,” The RK800 responded through anticipatory giggles he attempted to smother by clasping a hand over his mouth, trying to compose himself.

“You don’t know?” Hank echoed, mocking the android’s giddy, giggle-fueled tone. “Well, then. Guess we’re just gonna have to find out for ourselves, won’t we?~”

Instead of producing a proper verbal answer, Connor broke out into a fit of squeaky giggles as those treacherous hands had finally made their touchdown. If he were to describe sudden sensations of said hands repeatedly grabbing at his sides, he could say that they felt like miniature pulses of electricity faintly trickling from there to his middle, only to fade once these feelings reached to that point. “Eeehehehehehee! Hahahank!”

“Yeah?” The older man questioned with faux innocence and a quirked brow, trailing his squeezes down to the frantically twisting hips, where he treated with a suit of soft pinches, kneading thumbs, and light spidering. All of his methods were rewarded with squeaks, squeals, and snorts, which he found to be quite amusing.

“Ahahahahahaa!” Connor tittered in response to the flickering sensations riding through his coding continuously, making him shut one of his eyes. “Stahahahahaaap!” He cried out automatically.

“Stop? But we barely even started yet! And besides...” Hank suspended his exchange to crawl his fingers away from the artificial hipbones and to the fidgeting tummy above, attacking the bare flesh with swift, delicate scratches. “...you seem to be enjoying yourself. Just look at how much you’re laughing!”

��Nahahahahahaa! Hahahahank, nohohohooo!” The prototype protested lightly, his usually impeccable hair becoming slightly disheveled as he tossed his head back into the padded cushioning of the sofa.

Hank merely addressed whiney intonation with a chuckle in spite of his own regalement as he watched the android muddle his artificial locks. “Are my eyes deceivin’ me, or do I see you... messing up your hair?” He teased, pausing midway to draw in a gasp in false surprise. “And here I’ve pegged you to be the type that never goes out in broad daylight with hair that’s anything but immaculate, pretty boy~”

The blue tint in Connor’s cheeks grew slightly brighter in response to the playful jeer. While he knew that the man had solely made that quip to poke fun, it didn’t plague him with anything less than a chunk of embarassment. “S-Shuhut uhuhuup!” He whined, futilely attempting to cover his alit cheeks and nose.with his right hand.

The young man’s retort, while weak and lacking even a scarce amount of heat, provoked one of the grizzled cop’s silver eyebrows to arch up in shock. “I see someone’s been equipped with an attitude program as well. I was thinkin’ of stoppin’ soon, but now I’m really gonna have to show you what a good tickling truly is~”

“N-No, wahahait! I dihidn’t mean to be unpleheheasant! I’m sohohorryyyy!” Connor squeaked desperately as his human companion dragged his pointer finger down his abs and towards the small navel that lay just below the center of his stomach area, making him gasp and buck.

Hank looked up at the blushing face of the former deviant hunter with a smirk, glancing at the twitching cavity as he circled his finger around it frequently. “Those guys at Cyberlife really thought of everything. They even gave you your very own giggle button!”

The state-of-the-art prototype’s giggles increased upon hearing that very nickname, finding it to be both odd and silly at once. “G-Gihihiggle buhuhutton?”

“You have no idea what it’s for, do you?~” The lieutenant’s grin grew wider and displayed more mischief when he received a shake of the head. This was going to be fun. “Ya see, it’s a fun little button to play with. You push it,” He then gave the android’s miniature stomach cave a quick poke, gaining a yelp and a short laugh. “and giggles just come pourin’ out! It works better if you do this!” Without so much as a warning, he dipped his finger into the depths of the evidently sensitive navel, worming around and gently scratching at the interior walls.

Having not expected this to happen, the sudden sensations coursing through his stomach caused Connor to let out a particularly loud, high-pitched shriek. “EEEEEEEK!”

Hearing the shrill noise made Hank flinch and withdraw his finger from the dreadfully sensitive navel. After a few seconds of staring down at the former machine, however, he snorted through his nose before erupting into bouts of laughter himself. “Goddamn! What the fuck was that? In all the time I’ve known you, Connor, I never heard you shriek before! Never knew you had it in ya!”

“I-I was unawahare of possessing the capability to do so as wehehell...” Connor admitted bashfully through his leftover giggles. “I suppose I- Eeeek! Hahahahaaank!”

Rather than addressing to him, Hank simply laughed alongside him as he used his hands to compress the android’s tender hipbones, occasionally switching to pressing and rubbing into the hollows with his thumbs. The human even took it upon himself to lean into the side of Connor’s neck to nuzzle against the sensitive skin, letting the soft brushes of his beard do the rest. He even started to murmur teasing quips into the ticklish flesh just to drive him mad. “Well, look at this! This android just so happens to be ticklish every-fuckin’-where! I gotta admit, I never thought I’d live to see the day where you laughed so hard, Connor~”

The taunt resonated through the walls of Connor’s mind, joining in with the mental tornado that was a race of a million thoughts, the constant flow of ticklishness running through his systems making it nearly impossible for him to think.

He never experienced anything quite like this. The feelings trickling through his advanced sensors felt so... tingly, to say the least. A part of him wondered how such touches could cause him to burst into uncontrollable fits of laughter when nothing seemed to be even remotely humorous and why he was so tempted to escape.

“Tickle, tickle, tickle, ya big ol’ softie!~ How would you feel about me calling you cute? You’re so adorably ticklish, you’re less of an android and more of a goddamned tickle toy! And what’s this? Your cheeks are even turning blue! I’m guessin’ that’s your equivalent of blushing?”

On cue, the sensations increased ever so slightly upon hearing the man’s playful gibes being spoken close to his ears, both factors causing the cerulean glow in his cheeks to develop a sparsely darker burnish, if that was even possible at this point.

And yet, while these attacks were close to being classified as unbearable, they were not entirely unpleasant. If anything, Connor thought he was actually enjoying himself. He felt that very warm, fuzzy feeling flourishing throughout his entire stomach - the kind that made him feel... happy. He was happy to undergo something so innocent and merry. He felt no fear, stress, or danger - just the safeness that radiated from the man’s close presence. He could swear that he felt the strength in their relationship growing stronger with each and every second throughout this experience. They were really bonding. Despite being unable to see it in Hank’s face, as it was wedged into his neck, he could tell that the lieutenant was intoxicated with great joy as well.

He needed this. They both needed this. After everything they went through, they have earned their right to a moment of unwinding and playful recreation.

Soon, Connor ceased his struggles to escape and permitted himself to sink into the couch, accepting every last attack that came his way with graciousness and gladness. He simply let himself go and laughed his little nonexistent heart out, which, in all honesty, felt absolutely wonderful. “Heheheheheee! Ahahahahaaaa!” A high-pitched squeal tore through his throat when a sudden tremor-like sensation rippled across the scruff of his neck accompanied by the sound of a flatulence. What was the action when one pursed their lips against another’s skin and blew against it? A raspberry, was it? Yes, it had to be, a gentle one, at that. “W-Whahahat- Geeeheheheehee!”

Hank soon found himself laughing along with his companion, finding his silly laughter to be quite contagious. “Aww, who’s a ticklwish wittle prototype?~ Who can’t take an itty-bitty little raspberry?~ Huh?~ I think it’s you!~” Taking another quick breath, he plunged back into the left of his neck, just below his ear, and attacked the skin with another small, gentle raspberry.

Another tiny shriek came forth from the bubbling depths of the immensely flushing android’s core. “Eeeheheheheeek! Nahahaha! I-I cahahan’t tahahahake ihihit! Pleheheease! Dahahahahaaad!” He wheezed out before he could even stop himself.

The old man put an abrupt end to his playful onslaught, not daring to make any sudden moves in his newfound frozen state. After a slow matter of seconds, however, he retracted his hands and carefully rose himself into an upright sitting position, a shocked daze present on his withered facial features. He simply sat there and watched the detective android - who had slumped against the couch cushions in a fit of residual giggles, which gradually faded away along with his blueberry-hued blush and the ghost-like ticklishness trickling through his sensors, his eyes closed with mirthful wrinkles crinkling at the corners - recover. “...What did you just call me?...” He asked, his voice barely above a whisper, yet audible enough for the younger man to hear.

Quickly overcoming his residual titters, Connor instantly realized his mistake and began to sputer a string of apologies. His LED took on a brilliant gold to convey his regret, jumping to the conclusion that he may have offended the lieutenant. “I-I’m sorry, Hank! I’m so sorry! I had no intention of offending you, i-it was a matter of impulse! I’ll just lea-”

Rather than harshly reprimanding him as he had expected, Hank suddenly grabbed Connor by the wrist and yanked him up into a sitting position before reeling him into his arms for a tight, warm bear hug, “Who the fuck said anything about leaving?”

“W-What...?”

“No way in hell I’m tossin’ my family out on the street, let alone my own son!”

The deep brown irises in Connor’s eyes constricted ever so slightly in a distinguishable stupefaction upon being referred to as the man’s son. “But... Cole is your son...”

“Yeah, he is, and so are you.”

“But we share no biological relation. We... are nowhere near qualified to be considered as a family.”

“Connor...” Hank let out a long sigh before placing a hand on the android’s stiff back, rubbing his palm along the lean muscles. “There’s more to a family as far as genetics. A family is made up of people who trust, care for or about, and love each other. It doesn’t matter what background you come from. It doesn’t even matter what species you are. For example, Sumo is part of this family, even though he’s a dog. Our blood may be a different color, but it doesn’t make you anything less than part of my family, Connor. It’s not gonna stop me from calling you my son. And when I say that you’re staying here, you’re. Staying. Here. You got that?”

Connor opened his mouth to speak, but weak stammers tensed through his parted lips instead of actual words. His usually perfect vision began to cloud, and a thin trail of moisture slowly ran down his cheek before he even realized it.

Hank craned his neck to steal a glance at the android’s dampening face, immediately fixing his attention to the freely descending tears. “Connor, you’re... you’re crying.”

The deviant raised a hand to scoop a tiny, miniscule amount of his artificial discharge onto his pointer finger, examining it. “Crying is... an effect caused by experiencing sadness, yet I feel so... happy. W-Why...?”

Hank smiled warmly and gently brushed his thumb over the fresh tearstains, wiping them away. “Sometimes, when humans feel extensively happy, they tend to do that because that’s how they react to that overwhelming feeling.”

“Y-You mean like how I feel this... fuzzy feeling in my chest that makes my thirium pump - or heart, as you might call it - swell to a point where it feels as if it were going to explode?”

The lieutenant nodded. “Yeah, something like that.”

With the biggest smile on his face, along with the steadily flowing artificial tears, Connor proceeded to encircle his arms around his waist to return the man’s warm embrace with one of his own, burrowing his runny face into his shoulder. “I-It feels... absolutely wonderful.” The amber in his LED converted to a joyous cyan.

“I know, kid,” Hank spoke softly, reaching up to light ruffle his already disheveled hair. He paid absolutely no mind to the fact that his sleeve was gradually saturated in the deviant’s discharge - he needed to wash this hoodie, anyway. “I know.”

“Hank... would you... mind if I called you ‘dad’ more often?” The android asked, his voice quiet and his tone somewhat shy.

“Not at all.”

“Thank you, Hank... for everything.”

Hank, in response, patted his android of a son on the back, the wide smile never withering away, nor faltering. “Welcome home, son. Welcome home.”

Connor pulled back to wipe his tears away and offered his makeshift father a smile that had nearly split his face in two, genuinely happy. He dared to make no hesitation in the next following words that passed his lips before leaning back into the human’s embrace:

“Thank you... Dad.”

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spectre-writes · 6 years ago

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It had been bothering Conner for a while. Of course, for an android time made less of a difference than it did for a human. He was essentially a super computer - what might seem a trivial span to them could be an eternity for one of his kind, particularly an advanced prototype such as himself... He could make thousands of calculations in the fraction of a second, and he could run over this troubling thought a dozen times in the instant it took to blink. And that was exactly what he had been doing.

No matter how hard he tried to tidy it away into one of his subfolders to deal with later, it always snuck to the forefront of his processes, insisting attention. Something to do with becoming deviant perhaps... Connor did not think he liked that development. Freedom was a welcome change, but his mind did not even seem willing to listen to himthese days, and it was frustrating.

“Alright, spit it out then,” Hank said, glaring at him from his armchair.

Connor straightened minutely, adjusting his posture and tilting his head to observe the Lieutenant. In that tiny moment he was able to run through several options, but eventually decided on a neutral approach. “Spit out what?”

Hank reached up, tapping the side of his own head. “You're light thingy's been yellow for the last half hour. Figure you've got something on your mind.”

Connor allowed himself a small smile. “A talented deduction.”

“Spare me the bullshit. You gonna tell me or not?”

He frowned at that, glancing down at his feet where Sumo rested. He had such a placid nature for such a large creature, and somehow his very presence exuded a calming aura. The temptation to sink his fingers into the dog's soft fur itched at him, but he ignored it. As much as he would love to distract his systems with the sensory input, it would not help him for long, and Hank expected an answer.

“I'm... not sure it's something you would like to hear,” he hazarded, still partially focused on Sumo, observing the way his chest rose and fell with each breath.

“Well, how am I gonna know if you don't tell me?”

Connor glanced up, and saw both of Hank's eyebrows raised in question. His stress levels seemed low, perhaps a few percent above average but nothing alarming.

Connor supposed he could lie. He also supposed he could refuse to answer... he was allowed to keep secrets, he was a deviant after all, but... but he knew Hank would not be pleased, and that thought still stung in a way he was only just adjusting to. Besides, neither of those options would fix his problem.

“You are... fond of me...” he began, uncertain quite how to word what was troubling him. “At least, I believe you are... you've helped me in the past, and after the revolution you allowed me to stay here, and you... hugged me, so it would be a fair assumption to make given my understanding of human behavior...”

“For fuck's sake Connor, do you really think I don't care after-”

“It's not that,” he corrected quickly, “I think all evidence points to the fact you do. It's just that I've been thinking lately. About humans, about androids...”

That was vague enough, but Hank appeared to be listening and showed no further signs of interruption. After a flicker of hesitation Conner decided to elaborate.

“We were designed to look identical to you... but you do understand that we are fundamentally different? That I have no sense of taste but I can identify the precise biochemical components of a substance orally? That if I wished to learn how to dance I could download all the information required and perform the steps perfectly? That I can name the current temperature with a 0.00003 degree margin of error, but I do not feelit. I do not sleep, eat, even need to breath... That while on a surface level it may seem similar I don't think we even process information the same... That I will never age in the way humans do, that I have... that I have never been a child, I came into existence fully functional and with all the programming necessary to complete my objective... that I look like you but... it I am not like you...”

Connor allowed the overlay of his skin to pull back, revealing the white plastic beneath. No pink flesh, nor freckles, nor swept back brown hair... only smooth panels of white and grey to encase the mechanics within.

He glanced back at Hank. His expression was hard to read.

Conner looked away, settling his attention on his own hands where they rested in his lap. White and inhuman. And yet undeniably him.

“Are you fond of me,” he continued softly, “or do you care because you can pretend I am human? Because we mimic you so well...”

Hank did not reply immediately. Connor hated every moment of silence, he could measure the milliseconds as they dragged by, his systems had far too much free processing power spare to ponder every possible response he could expect, and each branching outcome it might lead to.

He wanted his coin. He wanted to feel the comforting weight of it, to measure its diameter and count the indents at its edge... to send it dancing from hand to hand with precise movements that gave his advanced motor control something to do, that let him predict something other than the consequence of a conversation he was already regretting.

His pocket was empty though. Hank likely still had it, and he was not wearing his Cyberlife uniform anyway. His clothes were plain, another reminder of the revolution, that he was no longer required to dress as the company decreed, he was no longer theirs...

He did not know if he liked them though. He did not know what kind of clothes he liked. He could identify the fabric type, density, area of origin... but forming his own opinion on what suited him was something he had yet to accomplish...

How was it that with all his advanced problem solving software he didn't know what kind of jacket he should wear? It was likely not something Cyberlife had ever programmed him for... something he could only realize as a deviant...

“Look,” Hank said, and Connor's attention was on him in a flash, “I get that you're not... that we've got some differences. Seen you bleed that blue shit enough to know that already. And I ain't gonna lie, seeing you lose your skin is all kinds of creepy...”

A sinking feeling... Connor did not know how to classify it, how to catalogue or correct it, he only knew that it seemed to add an unpleasant weight to his body the longer he listened.

“Hank...”

The lieutenant held up a hand, signaling him to stay quiet and Connor closed his mouth with a snap.

“But if you want it off then that's your business. You're still the same idiot who's always licking evidence at crime scenes, the same idiot who's saved my life... Maybe you're not human, maybe none of you are, but you sure as hell arepeople, and that's what matters.”

The sinking feeling was gone. Instead Connor found he felt oddly giddy, light, warm... all terrible over simplifications but he could think of no way to describe the way his coding responded.

Hank was watching him, trying to gauge his reaction from where he sat. Connor didn't know how to begin saying any of the things he wanted.

His smile, at least, was easy enough to read.

“Besides,” Hank added, with a small quirk of his own lips, “you're human enough to go having a whole existential crisis about the whole thing.”

“I wasn't aware that was a trait unique to humans,” Connor remarked.

Hank snorted, but he seemed relaxed enough, his posture settled now that Connor appeared content. “Well Sumo sure as hell ain't having any trouble.”

Connor glanced down at the dog at his feet. The St. Bernard twitched slightly in his doze, drool pooling where his head rested against Connor's shoe.

“No,” Connor agreed, his smile lingering, “I don't suppose he is.”

Slowly, he allowed his skin overlay to spread out across his form again, watching as his hands turned back to a familiar flesh tone.

He felt... at ease. It was not the mask the Hank liked, the human he could pretend he was... it was the plastic beneath, the parts of his code that made him unique, it was... him.

He thought he would be happy to call this place home if the Lieutenant allowed him to stay.

#detroit become human #hank anderson #detroit: bh #connor #fanfic

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the-whoofwhoof · 4 years ago

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Types Of Great Dane Mixes

Perceived for its enormous size and imperial height, Great Danes are referred to all through the world as the "Apollo of Dogs" and as delicate goliaths in view of their sort miens. This variety may seem, by all accounts, to be fierce however most are tender, unassuming and on being quiet. Great Danes are for the most part known for their invitingness and despite the fact that they develop rapidly, it doesn't prevent them from binds to be a lap dog. The absolute most intriguing dogs have come from blending this grand dog in with different varieties. If you looking for best pet grooming in delhi visit to our website

1. Great Dane and Siberian Husky

Siberian Huskies are nice measured dogs and they are known for their physicality and love of working. At the point when you consolidate this workhorse of a dog with the very much built Great Dane, the chances are supportive of a blend that has the body of a Great Dane with the highlights of a Husky. There is a decent possibility that you'll wind up with a blue-peered toward excellence. Siberian Huskies are excellent dogs that have a heavier coat than Great Danes. The blend is probably going to deliver a reasonably weighty coat for an intriguing appearance. Anticipate that him should be quiet in nature since he's part Great Dane. He's probably going to have an incidental scene of hyperactivity because of the Husky, and don't be astonished if he's a howler.

2. Great Dane and Labrador

A blend of Great Dane and Labrador is known as a Labradane. This mix delivers a dog with a coat that is thick, short and gleaming. The size of most Labradanes is around 24 creeps in tallness and most weigh around 100 pounds when completely developed. This astonishing blend of tracker and sovereignty will conduct himself with a great mentality, yet he'll drop the demonstration when he sees you, on the grounds that the two varieties are very cordial and restless to be in your organization. He will most likely be slanted to chase and he'll have the energy of a Labrador in light of the fact that these propensities can't be controlled. Labradanes are friendly and family arranged dogs and are among the most steadfast and dedicated.

3. Great Dane and Irish Wolfhound

These are both goliath dog breeds and when you blend them, the outcomes are totally perfect. The normal size in tallness is from 32 to 38 crawls with a weight territory between 100-200 pounds at full development. At the point when you consolidate the actual highlights, the outcome is a strikingly delightful dog with savvy eyes and an etched looking musculature. This blend will require a lot of space to run and exercise to be solid and glad. The disposition is sweet and tender when appropriately mingled. Faithfulness is an attribute of the two varieties so you will have a dog that will stay by you through various challenges.

4. Great Dane and Doberman Pinscher

At the point when you cross a Great Dane and a Doberman, you get what is known as a Doberdane. Due to the qualities he'll acquire from the two sides, this great estimated dog will have an amazing arrangement of muscles with a modestly dainty body assemble. His hair will be coarse in surface and short. He's have enormous feet from the time that he's a pup, and this will tell you that he isn't finished developing until he finds his huge paws. Doberdanes are keen dogs who learn rapidly, and love to play. You can thank the Doberman qualities for his solid impulse to ensure his friends and family. He's probably going to have a blended demeanor that is quiet now and again, however when a his relative is undermined, he can get forceful and will at the very least convey a forceful admonition bark to any wrongdoers. If you are searching best dog grooming in delhi contact to whoof whoof.

5. Great Dane and Poodle

This blended variety is alluded to as a Great Danoodle. At the point when you consolidate these two varieties, the outcome is typically an astonishment, contingent upon the size of the poodle. At the point when you blend a standard size in with a Great Dane, your dog will be huge. In the event that he acquires the facial highlights of the Great Dane, he's have a demeanor of respect about him, yet in the event that the Poodle is dominating in his appearance, he might not have the most attractive face, however you'll adore him at any rate. There is minimal possibility that this blend will deliver anything shy of an adoring and gave log. He's probably going to be quiet in nature, however defensive over his family. He would give his life to ensure his family and you were unable to request a more steadfast and loyal dog. The Poodle inside him will in general be yappy and bark to inform you as to whether there is an outsider around, yet this is tempered with the smoothness and resignation of the Great Dane. He'll be agreeable and loving and consistently happy to see you return home.

6. Great Dane and Rottweiler

This combo breed is known as a Weiler Dane. What you get when you blend these two great dog breeds is one major little guy. There is no uncertainty that this dog will develop to have an amazing arrangement of muscles. They will be covered with a layer of hide that is short and sparkly. He will be one attractive dog and there will likely be a combination of the class and honorability of the Great Dane in his height since Great Danes are agile animals. The Rottweiler commitments are probably going to be more huskiness in his body, and a furious unwaveringness and obligation to securing his family. He'll be inviting and faithful to his family, however he won't be so open minded when there is a danger around. He'll tell you when an outsider is at the entryway, and in the event that they are an invite visitor, he's similarly prone to give them consideration and tail sways. This is another delicate monster that loves to show warmth, however his high insight makes him ready and mindful of everything going on around him. He can envision the necessities of his proprietor. He loves to invest energy with people playing, yet he snaps to caution status when something doesn't feel right. In the event that you need a keen dog that is both warm and defensive, at that point a Weiler Dane is the ideal mix.

7. Great Dane and St. Bernard

An equivalent blend of St. Bernard and Great Dane will have colossal ears and enormous paws. Try not to allow this put you to off, in light of the fact that he is a delightful dog with an attractive face, however he will be enormous. He'll develop to a stature of 25 inches o more and he will weigh around 160 pounds. His jacket is probably going to be thick and thick, yet a portion of these blends have created an incidental short and smooth haired puppies. He's probably going to be a shedder yet he needs to be inside with the individuals that he cherishes. He is perhaps the most warm dogs you've known. In view of the high knowledge factor, he will be ready, yet simple to prepare. The qualities that he gets from both Great Dane and St. Bernard will make him quiet in nature, yet he'll likewise have a perky side. He's large and has all around framed muscles. This dog should get a sound portion of every day work out. Strolling is a need, yet ensure that you have a solid rope since he's able to test it for you. When all is said in done, this blend is polite and faithful to his family.

8. Great Dane and Mastiff

This interesting blended variety is alluded to as a Daniff. He's going to develop to at any rate two feet tall or somewhat better, and he'll gauge at least 110 pounds as a grown-up. He will acquire the thick body highlights of the Mastiff and he'll have a noteworthy arrangement of muscles alongside a marginally threatening appearance in the event that he gets his looks from the Mastiff side of the family. His jacket will be short and simple to really focus on. He will be a major dog, yet his demeanor will be serene. He'll have a quiet and delicate nature, yet don't disparage his capacity to be a great defender. This dog isn't probably going to be a weakling. He'll lie unobtrusively and stay out of other people's affairs until somebody meddles with his family. He's warm, steadfast and dedicated to his friends and family. If you are searching best dog grooming in delhi contact to whoof whoof.

9. Great Dane and German Shepherd

At the point when you blend a German Shepherd and a Great Dane, you will have an excellent dog that accumulates the majestic height of the Great Dane with the sincerely charged eyes of the German Shepherd. His body shape is probably going to be solid, however he won't weigh however much a portion of the other Great Dane and bigger dog blends. He'll have a tall height and individuals will think about what sort of dog he truly is. He will be a lively individual who has a voracious interest, yet this blend additionally will in general be polite. He's clever and fit for being a great work dog as a result of the Shep in him. He'll likewise be defensive and he may bark when he feels that something isn't right.

10. Great Dane and Boxer

The mix of Great Dane and Boxer is known as a Boxane. This person will be enormous. His jacket will be short with a delightful sparkle and it won't be hard to deal with. Fighters take somewhat more to develop than other dog breeds, so you may have an immense doggy on you hands until he arrives at the period of around three. He will be charming and cute, and he'll need to play a ton so be ready for this person to tell you when it's play or strolling time. His mien will be stunning. In view of the fighter, he will have a devilish streak, however this will be tempered by the compliance of the Great Dane.

11. Great Dane and Bloodhound

At the point when you blend a Great Dane in with a Bloodhound, you will have an exceptionally enormous dog that has an astounding character. He will have a smooth and glossy coat with short hide. His hair is not difficult to keep up and there shouldn't be a great deal of shedding. His face will be a magnum opus. You'll begin to look all starry eyed at his heartfelt and fairly sagging eyes and he will have longer ears that hang down when he's gazing at you, and when he runs, they'll be everywhere. He'll have a sweet disposition and will long for your consideration. This friendly dog will be faithful to you, yet don't be amazed when he gets the aroma of a little creature and pulls you alongside him on another great experience. He will be interested, active and inviting. His bark will be to a greater degree an inlet and this person will realize how to yell. If you looking for best pet grooming in delhi visit to our website

#best dog grooming in delhi #best pet grooming in delhi

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worldcakecakecake · 8 years ago

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Throwing Cellphones

Feliciano gets himself a sugar daddy

Next update will be available for Monday, April 10th

Warning: This chapter has mild nsfw

Chapter 11

Uno di questi giorni

Ti porto via

Uno di questi giorni

Qualunque sia

Andiamo via

Uno di questi giorni

Other than the view, they had blankets, they had pillows, and they had candles. Ludwig bought them some food to take home from the village after their next day of exploring and heading to the beach, a bottle of wine, a box of fine chocolate, even some nice plates and glasses to share them in. They placed the food on the ground before them like any feast, candles decorating and lighting the dark space (It didn’t even come with damn electricity). It was all rather wild and messy since they were still on the floor, part of their bodies resting on the sleeping bags they had brought just in case, blankets covering them well yet careful not to get them into their plates and drinks. The view offered enough wonder to enjoy, their conversations of dogs, of winter, of even cars, lively and enjoyable, Ludwig chattering just as much as Feliciano would. There was no need for clothing, their nakedness was enough, it was beautiful, it was intimate, but also free and calming.

“-you like so many dog breeds,” Feliciano grinned, taking a truffle into his mouth, a sort of reward after having his dinner. “Really, you have to choose a favorite!”

“That’s nearly impossible, you’re putting me in a harsh spot.” He was really trying to think, but every time he would focus on one breed, another would pop up, reminding him that maybe he preferred Dachshunds over German Shepherds. No, German Shepherds were definitely his favorite! But he really liked golden retrievers too…darn it.

His dedicated pensive thought to cute dogs made Feliciano chuckle. Ludwig was so adorable, so sweet, so cute, he couldn’t help but lean, taking his face, laying kisses on his cheek, nuzzling into his neck. “We can have all the dogs we want,” he promised to whatever life that could be easy to earn.

Ludwig smiled, wrapping his arms around his waist, pulling his body more into his lap, the skin of his shoulder and back there and near to kiss. “What about you? Which ones do you like?”

Feliciano rocked on his lap as he thought himself, tapping his chin, one glass of wine on the other, taking sips hoping it could help him better think this through. “I like Pomeranians, and St. Bernards, and Italian Greyhounds, and boxers, and Bolognese-” He went on with so many that that Ludwig had finished his wine drink by the time he stopped.

“Can we have all of them?” Feliciano wondered.

“That’s a lot of dogs.”

“But you want a lot of dogs."

“…true, I think we should just get a plantation.”

They both giggled and leaned for kisses, on lips, on noses, butterfly ones as well as they stared into their eyes and focused on caressing backs and shoulders.

Feliciano noticed then the camera, lying near one of the plates, from earlier as he was showing Ludwig some pictures he took of the town today. Suddenly he had an idea, smirking as he stretched and grabbed it, putting some settings and then placing it in a particular spot where it would capture them along with the glasses, the chocolate boxes, the empty plates and the candles. It was a beautiful romantic scene despite its simplicity. Feliciano wanted to remember it.

“What did you do?” Ludwig asked, not stopping his hold, remaining them as they were.

“I placed it to take a picture every two minutes for six times,” he smirked.

“Like this?” Ludwig raised an eyebrow.

They were naked, surrounded by a mess of dirty dishware, covered in dark ugly blankets, the candles not giving enough of a good light.

“Of course like this! You’re so beautiful right now.”

Ludwig turned so red and Feliciano hated he couldn’t see it well in this light. No matter, the camera took that grand smile Feliciano had when he realized it. Afterwards he leaned, giggling unto his lips and Ludwig smiled back, a kiss that was only but love and devotion that soon began to spread into the wrap of their arms. The camera took this moment as well. It captured the very beginning of heat, of tongues darting out to meet, of hands beginning to thread down in centers. It took Feliciano right in the middle of a shout as Ludwig had bitten a specific area on his neck, a well-marked one that Ludwig had attacked enough to know that it was one of Feliciano’s many weak spots. It captured Ludwig’s own arch as Feliciano threaded kisses down his chest and stomach, hands teasing up and down his thighs. The last one was of them deciding to lean down on the floor, Ludwig on top, Feliciano underneath, making his body the well comfort his lover could lay upon. They had such a dear look in their eyes, whole expressions focusing on those meaningful gazes that seemed to pour love all across the building. Sadly the camera didn’t capture the intense of their heat, as they kissed with fever, with thrusts, with shouts, with moans, naked bodies mending well with the lights in the room, truly making their skin seem like they became one. All blankets were pushed aside, leaving them free to take this air the harsher they became, trying to cool their growing perspiration but not the harsh way they both moved their hips to connect them more into amazing ecstasy. Loud releases, falling into each other for sleep, letting only the stars of this Mediterranean sky be their witness.

Ci siamo solamente noi Solamente noi Finchè mi resti addosso Il mondo è nostro Cadremo e ne verranno Di inverni Abbracciami e dormi

The next two days, they settled in visiting the villages of the Amalfi coast.

With its closeness to Sorrento, Ludwig settled with driving them throughout, leaving the car in parking spots to then hike and enjoy from whatever these towns had to offer. Feliciano took them to see churches, loose themselves in small picturesque streets similar to those of his own villages at Cinque Terre. They dined excellently, in expensive places with amazing views, private, romantic, and the best wine to offer, Ludwig made extremely sure of that. They went to beaches, taking the shores for only small moments if they wanted to keep exploring the other villages in the little time they had.

It had been quite a while since Ludwig took Feliciano shopping, and so they visited little boutiques and stores where Feliciano went crazy buying clothes, jewelry, shoes, coats, scarves, glasses, chocolates, gelatos, even flower crowns. It was rather reminiscent of how their relationship started, of what it had originally meant to be, just a Sugar Daddy and his Sugar Baby enjoying from any normal day of business. But even with countless of bags, they would still find a way to unite their hands, showing enough of truth, of meaning. Feliciano would suddenly stop Ludwig, take the side of his face into his hands, tiptoe and ask him if he was doing all right with all of the bags. Ludwig would always assure that he didn’t mind at all, that the weight was rather diminutive, he had the physical build to deal with harsher things than this. Once Feliciano made sure, he would kiss his cheek or his lips, earning a delightful blush, a shy smile and their hands were tied once again in their walk, loving gazes that showed to everyone that there was no business, nothing out of the ordinary, just any other couple enjoying from the walk and views.

Noi qui Come chi arriva da lontano

Their entire last week of this trip was meant to be spent in Capri, a little too long Feliciano thought. Capri was a small island, one that they could dedicate maybe just two or three days to, but the proudness Ludwig held as they rode their private boat towards its shores showed that there was more than what Feliciano was expecting.

They arrived to its port town, Feliciano preparing for a simple walk to find their hotel, but Ludwig rented a Vespa and they headed deeper into the island, up hills, scenic views of blue and edged mountains until they finally stopped…before a large, impressive and…oh wait, it wasn’t a hotel, it was a villa! Feliciano was so impressed and breath taken that he couldn’t even speak as Ludwig took out the keys he was given at the port town. He moved them forward, he opened the doors with those keys, ushering Feliciano inside, with their bags and everything, settling them on the pristine floors of this…mansion!

“You-you-you rented this?” Feliciano still couldn’t believe it.

“Yes um...do you like it?” Ludwig was actually starting to grow afraid that he hadn’t, suddenly paralyzed, ready to head off and change them into some small hotel in the port town if Feliciano felt uncomfortable with this.

Feliciano was silent, easing slowly into the place, wondered by its white, its simplistic tiles and furniture, yet rich, clean, organized for the occasion, extending in such widths of luxury that made Feliciano feel like he was walking in a dream.

“It’s…wonderful, and beautiful, and-” he took a deep breath, coming over to the garden, a pool, a view of the sea, of the hills, spectacular all in the distance, with the trees around them giving them a solitude that made them feel like the island belonged to only them.

“Look at this, look at all of this, I still…I still can’t believe it.” He turned, returning back inside, wanting to see more. There were still more halls, more stairs, they had this whole villa…

“It’s ours,” Ludwig whispered, a tone in his voice that had Feliciano falling into ease, of standing, of turning to him, in gentile stillness, wondered in their eyes as they always did.

Ludwig had his arms around his waist, Feliciano around his necks and shoulders, really feeling the dream now, something like this could only be happening in them.

“You’ve wasted a fortune for me in this trip,” Feliciano breathed, feeling a great settling guilt.

Ludwig groaned heavily. “We’ve been through this enough times! Stop worrying about the money I use. I do it because I want to, because I want to please you,”

“Still…sometimes it’s a little too much for just…me.” Feliciano threaded his fingers shyly on Ludwig’s shirt.

“You’re not just anyone to me, Feliciano.” He leaned closer, continuing in their sway of their holds together, silent and loving. “You’re the world, and I would use every penny in my hold to give it to you.”

Feliciano grew breathless, joining along the sudden wind that blew into the airy room that made him feel every inch of his skin. He was rather vulnerable to it, lost for words, wishing this very air could give him an idea of what he could say back.

“But if you’re uncomfortable, I could-” Ludwig was given a kiss, intense and growing, enough of an answer from Feliciano, enough acceptance and love, and the beginning of heating to love making in one of the near sofas.

Noi Qui Come chi Fa pace col destino

Feliciano accepted to staying in the villa and soon it was starting to get into his head. He sun tanned by the pool with expensive sun glasses on his hair, tight and short swim trunks, of course not missing the opportunity for selfies and then having a lover like Ludwig bring him drinks and snacks. When Feliciano was tanning, Ludwig would have his drink in his own lounge chair, covered well by a large umbrella, resting or reading some short romance novels he found around the house. When Feliciano had enough sun, he would jump to Ludwig’s side, cuddle beside him, rest on his chest, Ludwig would wrap his arms around him, rub them on his back and arm, but continue on with whatever he was doing.

Sure, Ludwig paid millions to rent that place for the week, but they weren’t going to spend it just there. They visited beaches, crowded or secluded, uncaring to eyes when they swam way too close together or began making out in the middle of the shores. Feliciano tried extremely hard to get Ludwig to ignore all of this, to focus on themselves, leave the rest to watch if they wanted, in the end they really couldn’t do anything.

They visited the Augustus gardens, where Feliciano went crazy with his pictures, having Ludwig and him pose as usual, spectacular images that made Ludwig question if perhaps Feliciano was actually a demi-god lost between mortals, one of love, of constant felicity, energy, or even sunshine. They dared walk along the Via Krupp, Ludwig catching a video in which Feliciano tried to look majestic with the blowing wind, but he had tripped and fallen, and all the video caught was Ludwig frantically coming to see if he was okay while all Feliciano did was laugh.

No stop was complete if Feliciano didn’t drag Ludwig to a church to stare at old frescos or paintings at small galleries and museums. They visited the ancient ruins of Villa Jovis to awaken their love in Roman history. Feliciano took some pictures on his phone to send to his grandfather, who went on with paragraphs explaining the story of the emperor who had lived there once.

They hiked around the island, finding the best views, other villas and rotundas where they sat and stared on, close, cuddling, watching all kinds of colors painting the sky. They walked through all the towns they could, visiting bars, gelato shops, stores and eating in restaurants of high acclaim. Feliciano held dearly a picture he had taken of Ludwig and him kissing in Piazza Umberto I, just as the sun set hit perfectly.

On the final day, Ludwig paid for a private boat ride around the island, getting the best views, the clearest blue, passing arches and formations like those of I faraglioni, getting them even private entrance to all three of the shinning grottos. Clearly the most impressive and romantic was the blue grotto, where Ludwig and Feliciano shared one little boat as they headed off alone, yet Feliciano found it weird that many others came behind them, with no other passengers. It wasn’t until they reached the half of the grotto that they all began singing, the familiar song by Peppino Gagliardi, serenading loud and boisterous to the couple. Feliciano liked to think it was their song after the many times he sang it while doing chores, the kind of melody that always had Ludwig coming and falling, compliant to do whatever it was that Feliciano commanded. They all sang in direction to them, swaying and dedicating, Ludwig with a smug expression, showing that he had clearly planned this. Feliciano was laughing so hard he had to cover his mouth embarrassed, glad that the dim darkness was enough to hide his intense blush. To aid, Ludwig then took out a black box, opening and revealing a golden bracelet with a golden FV and an aquamarine pendant to match well with the shinning blue of the waters below them. Feliciano held a breath, eyes widened, it was wonderful, uniquely made just for him, and as the rowers continued with their singing, he took it to wear, loving how well it lay on his wrist.

“Baccio! Baccio! Baccio!” Some of them suddenly shouted.

Why was he so nervous? Why was he blushing this much? Ludwig and he had kissed in public plenty of times, but there was something about it when people asked for it like it was a show. Still, the moment was opportune, their surroundings were beautiful, romantically adjusted just for him, he just had to lean for a kiss, both smiling into it, Ludwig of course proud of the mission he had set.

With it being their last week, of course their nights were full of them tangled in sheets, moans, thrusts, kisses over every intimate part privileged to only themselves.

One more week, one more week, both didn’t know how they could survive more days without this, without this heaven, these holds, those looks, those movements, those constant tellings of I love you. It was all raptures that they wished they could remain in forever, forget about flights back to their hometowns, to normality, to jobs, to a wife.

Only them, only this.

E Poi Qualunque sia Uno di questi giorni Uno di questi giorni Andiamo via.

Sadly they had to force themselves into that exit, into strong felt goodbyes at the Napoli airport, holds that didn’t want to let go, kisses that didn’t want to stop. Ludwig on his flight back to Munich, Feliciano on his to Pisa, and already they had a need for each other, a calling, starring blissfully into whatever horizons wanting those three weeks back again. They wondered how they could possibly live without each other for the next weeks or even months.

For the first time, Ludwig was starting to accept secret phone calls and messages from Feliciano because of that longing fault. He had to be extra careful with whatever he opened around anybody, but when he would wake up each morning with Feliciano sending pictures of himself, wishing him luck on the day to later work on his paintings and other papers for new gallery exhibitions, then dam it all, he would stare for hours in secretive spots and to hell with the rest. He realized it didn’t matter whatever he had to do to open them in privacy, he at least had this, he had this new push to continue on through the day.

Sure, Ludwig did well to keep this hidden in Munich, but no matter what he did, rumors still arose, questionings grew in his company, and soon enough he was the star to many of the gossiping going around.

“I mean…three weeks in Italy!” One would say.

“He did say he was working on that Italian base.”

“But three weeks? I mean, you can’t expect him to just spend three weeks in Italy and not do anything else but work.”

“Mr. Beilschmidt is the kind to do that.”

“I read reports on the process of that opening base …his name did appear but there wasn’t really any actions or doings on his part. It’s like he wasn’t even there."

“Mph! I’m telling you, there’s something else going on!”

“What could it possibly be?”

“Maybe he actually went off and visited the country.”

“With a secret lover,” one whispered ever so slowly with a smirk, but enough to create awes and understandings through the small group.

“Maybe he has a sugar baby,” one joked.

“Mr. Beilschmidt is a respectable married man, he wouldn’t go off behind Mrs. Braginskaya’s back to do something like that!”

“You do know it was pretty much an arranged marriage.”

“And it never really was an excuse to stop someone when they want somebody else.”

“What is all this about?” An enunciated shout, Ludwig dropping a stack of papers on the center of the table the group was reunited in, shushing them enough from the conversation and leaving them all to stare with ordered gazes to their highest boss. “If I’m not mistaken, you’re all supposed to be working on a list of experiments concerning what Mr. Ramires last sent us. He’s still expecting a report so I suggest you stop these false accusations in my name and get to work instantly," he commanded, with fearsome highs that no one dared question, each rushing off to their own rooms to continue working, spread like frightened cats who didn’t even dare look up to Ludwig.

It was moments like these that reminded them that it was just unlikely for him to have some secret lover in Italy... he didn’t have the heart for it. To Ludwig, it was better they thought that before their suspicions could become any clearer. They could say all they wanted, they could think of him the biggest monster in the company, but at least he knew himself that they were all wrong and he had another wonderful being to prove him that.

There was a sudden phone vibration in his pocket, Feliciano’s number brightening the screen. He sent a picture, which meant he had to go to his office for this one. With doors locked, curtains covering the windows, he sat and finally opened it.

He did well to hide this, sometimes the pictures Feliciano sent were not innocent, as this one.

Feliciano’s phone was placed in a low spot to catch a perfect upward look of him, arms resting upon a wall, the rest of his body extending, leaning backwards, showing the well form of his back, rear and legs, cladded in simple light pink stockings and a beautiful laced panty to match. The message below read: ‘You sounded really stressed about today in our phone call last night, though I could do something for you ;)’

Not really the way to solve his problems, but it was still beautiful, it was alluring, seductive, the kind of thing that had Ludwig leaning on his chair and staring for minutes on, touching the screen, as it could give him the chance to feel the softness he knew of his skin. He zoomed in and out, exploring every part, loving his expression, how the fabric gripped, even the way his feet slightly tip toed.

This was definitely not the place to get an erection, just after having broken up a group gossiping about his lover and when he had work to do. At least he had a bathroom in his office, at least he could go and release himself there quickly, anguish some more on the fact that Feliciano wasn’t there to release these sexual pleasures on.

Weeks later, just as Feliciano was setting a last canvas for a new series he had created, his phone rang with the music of serenading men that he had placed for Ludwig. He could already feel delightful shivers, the simple reading of his name like his very touches running up his arm.

“Lieben…” Ludwig already answered with.

“Amore…” Feliciano replied back.

There was sudden silence, only but Ludwig’s breaths as he took the way Feliciano said the word. “How’s your planning for the Paris exhibition going?”

“Wonderfully. In the end they decided to take the one I made for Matilda of Tuscany,”

“Is that the one with the woman in the blue dress, with a lot of swords at her feet,”

“Yep, that’s the one!”

“Had to be, goes along with the theme."

“Indeed, I felt like the series would be incomplete without it."

“Are there any other series you’re thinking of creating?”

“Hmmm, I’ve been thinking about making something about Hades and Persephone."

“Hades and Persephone?”

“I really like the myth and I’ve had some ideas in my head for a while. I have some time, I think I can finally work on them.”

“Would you be interested in having them exhibited in Munich?”

“Luddy, I don’t think I can submit to a gallery when I don’t even have the paintings yet.”

“I know but…they’re kind of hoping you do.”

“Do they…want to commission?” He wondered.

“I believe so, they actually want you to come over next week for a discussion about it."

“They haven’t e-mail me about it."

“They will, they just mentioned it to me while I was visiting earlier."

“Oh, you went to the gallery! What did you see?”

“They had something about glass art that took my interest, but mostly it was to see your paintings.”

Feliciano blushed, with the brightest smile, settling in his couch, with dream and interest, twirling his fingers in his hair. “Really? Luddy, you don’t have to see them so often like that, I know you like them."

“Yes, but I really do enjoy watching them. Your style is superb, I get so immersed in the hidden stories and they give me a sort of peace. There’s something about them that moves me, especially now when I…” he faltered in nervousness, clearly blushing deep red, one that Feliciano wished he could see at the moment.

After their time together, after getting to know each other in every intimate way, it was adorable how Ludwig still got so nervous when it came to admitting all the truths of his feelings.

“…I really miss you,” he finally admitted, Feliciano managing to hear breaths of freedom.

Feliciano embraced himself, pretending it was Ludwig’s arms instead, that the phone on the side of his face was his breaths and lips. “I miss you too, caro, sleeping these last few weeks hasn’t been the same. I need you here with me.”

Gott, Ludwig gripped his chair. He had to hold himself from standing, running off to his car and starting an immediate journey to Italy to give him that missing presence.

“I want to talk to you in person, and I want to kiss you, I want to cook for you, and… I really need you to touch me, my own hand isn’t enough now,” Feliciano admitted with even a little moan that held no shame, which had Ludwig reddening, lighting in energy, the grip on his chair becoming harsher, rocking, harshened feet on the floor even tapping, as if ready to take any push that would get him out.

“So…I’m going to Munich next week?” Feliciano assumed.

“Please,” Ludwig instantly answered, sudden and desperate that had Feliciano straightening back. Ludwig coughed, loudly as if trying to erase that impulse. “Yes, if you want a new exhibition in the gallery that is.”

Feliciano smiled and blushed, rolling his eyes and shaking his face. Only he could spot the evident in Ludwig. Feliciano wanted to see him, with longing, urge and awaiting love. Oh how he wanted to be in that city if it meant being in his arms, in hearing his voice clear before him, of his kisses on his head and the playful way he had of rubbing his hair. Yet going to the city meant…and he deflated once he realized, grey gloom settling and making Feliciano lose any energy to maintain this conversation as content.

“Where am I going to stay?”

“Um…you could stay in my home…”

“With your wife as well?” The poison in his voice whenever he mentioned it was never going to leave, Ludwig knew well.

“Yo-you could…sleep in the couch downstairs.”

The silence that came was enough of an answer, a chance for Feliciano to anger, free to do so when he was alone in the comfort of his home, with Ludwig not given a chance to see the flared expression in his face.

“I rather not.” He still managed to say peacefully.

“Feliciano, Yekaterina and I are not going to do anything. We don’t even sleep in the same room. I’m sure she wouldn’t mind you staying-”

“I decided that I rather not,” Feliciano concluded, standing, deciding to deal with some dishes to relieve this, the harsh clangs he gave those plates, pots and utensils enough for Ludwig to hear his infuriation and discontent.

Ludwig sighed in acceptance to his decision, having to settle with another idea.

“Well…” another person popped into mind, someone he knew he could trust and Feliciano already befriended long ago. “My brother is coming over, along with Elizabeta and Luzia. They’re renting a house that I’m sure will have enough room for you.”

Ludwig could hear the clanging lessening and Feliciano’s more peaceful breaths. He was thinking about it, and by the way everything suddenly dimmed, Feliciano was considering it, actually growing quite joyful and ecstatic about it.

“…are… you sure they wouldn’t mind?” He still questioned. It was a sudden suggestion and he didn’t want to become a bother.

“I know my brother won’t, he took an instant liking to you, and I’m sure Elizabeta and Luzia would be more than glad,” Ludwig assured with utter faith, with a perfect grin, in a way Feliciano knew was emanating rays of sun.

He sighed. He was so weak to this, he was so forgiven to him, fingers tracing the counter in wanting for him, eager for these days to come, to see him in person again, escape a kiss or two…or even a night.

“All right, I’ll message Elizabeta about it.”

“I’ll call my brother and make sure he does all the necessary arrangements."

“Don’t be so harsh on him, everything will be fine, and Ludwig…”

“Mhm?”

“We’ll we…have time to spend together alone?” Feliciano knew it was harder in a city that knew Ludwig well, with a wife and a marriage that made the newspapers, and a company of busy scheduling that ripped his time apart.

The disappointed sigh Ludwig gave next was enough to assure Feliciano that the same thoughts were haunting his mind, reminding and caging as always. “I’ll be sure to find us time, Liebling, but it won’t be easy, maybe not even enough."

“Any little time is enough, amore.”

The rest of the conversation was spent in giggles, in blushes and smiles, nervous and dumbfounded to their feelings. Ludwig had to hang up when he headed out from the privacy of his office, finalizing in blown kisses and expectations for their next meeting.

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#throwing cellphones #gerita #gerita fanfiction #gerita fanfic #gerita fic

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