#since the girls get to be deviant in beanies they get to smile and connor is like. incognito still not quite deviant

[moeblob]

Beanie Babies.

[rhinozilla]

Whumptober Day 26: Abandoned

Summary:  Hank is at home, watching the live footage on television as Jericho burns during the revolution. Connor isn't picking up the phone, and Hank feels sick.

--

Detroit was well and truly fucked now.

Hank stood in his living room, arms tightly folded as he stared at the television screen. He’d only been home for two minutes, and one minute and fifty seconds of that had been spent watching the live footage that had taken over every news outlet in the city.

The FBI had located and apparently bombed the deviant android headquarters, an abandoned freighter named Jericho. Livestreaming helicopter footage showed the flames and smoke gushing out of every opening, showed deviants trying to flee as it sank, showed FBI and SWAT agents blocking them off and gunning them down.

Connor wasn’t picking up his calls, and Hank felt sick.

He hadn’t seen or heard from his partner since Hank had run interference for him against Agent Perkins at the precinct. He’d bought him as much time as he could in the evidence room, but he hadn’t been able to reconnect with him to find out if he was successful or not.

It didn’t matter now; the FBI had hit Jericho with or without Connor’s help, and the bodies were piling up on that freighter, androids as they tried to flee, humans as they tried to stop them. Now Hank was on suspension, with one Hell of a set of busted knuckles from wailing on Perkins’s ugly face. No gun, no badge, and no partner.

“C’mon, Connor,” he whispered, feeling the plastic of the remote control cracking under his grip. “Be okay.”

The doorbell rang, and it nearly sent Hank out of his skin.

“Jesus—“ he wheezed, tossing the remote on the couch.

He crossed over to the door and peered through the peephole. Then he was scrambling to yank the door open.

“Connor! Holy shit, are you okay?!”

On the porch, Connor looked startled at Hank’s greeting, though his expression quickly smoothed into calm.

“Good evening, Lieutenant. Yes, I’m…I’m undamaged. I’m sorry for the late hour, but I wasn’t sure where else to go…since…” He fidgeted.

He sure didn’t look like a guy who’d just fled a flaming freighter death trap, but Hank didn’t feel like looking that gift horse in the mouth. He stepped aside, opening the door fully and glancing around suspiciously for any prying eyes.

“Yeah, of course, get in here.”

Connor walked past him into the house, casting his eyes around the living room, lingering shortly on Sumo snoozing in front of the coffee table. He rubbed his hands together, turning in a slow circle before looking at Hank again.

“The deviants were flushed out of Jericho. The FBI and SWAT have taken custody of many of them, but the ones that escaped are scattering throughout the city. I wanted to verify that you were all right before I joined their search.”

Hank stared at him, a sharp pang of disappointment hitting his chest. “Are you seeing the same thing that I’m seeing?” He gestured to the television. “They’re gunning down deviants like animals. Men, women, those kid androids too. That’s murder, Connor.”

“They’re machines, just like me, Lieutenant. It’s not murder if they’re not alive,” he pointed out, raising his eyebrows.

“Bullshit,” Hank grumbled. “Back at the precinct, you said you needed to locate Jericho to avoid your own shutdown. If you failed your mission to find Jericho, then Cyberlife would destroy you. Well, Jericho has been found, your mission was a success. And there’s the result with a body count. How does that feel?”

Connor stared at him evenly. “It doesn’t feel like anything, Lieutenant. I was designed to accomplish a task, and I have accomplished it.”

Hank straightened up, eying him angrily. “So that’s it? Your mission is done, and now what? You go back to Cyberlife, and they’re going to give you another one? What happens when you do fail? What happens when they build an android even better than you? Will your precious Cyberlife take care of you then?”

Connor frowned. “Why are you so upset about all of this?”

“Those are your people, Connor.” Hank pointed at the flaming wreckage of Jericho. “Those deviants just want to be free. I was all on board with stopping them when they were hurting people, but—this!?”

The helicopter footage zoomed in an on off ramp connected to the freighter, where SWAT was mercilessly firing rounds rapidly into the backs of the fleeing deviants. One android, a woman with short cut hair and holding the hand of a young girl, both fell among the bodies and stayed down. The high beam lights swept the area as the agents checked the bodies and moved on.

“Fuck—“ Hank grimaced at the sight, noting that Connor was watching the screen as well, though he appeared entirely unaffected. He thought back to the way Connor’s hand had shaken around the gun as he held aim at the kneeling Chloe’s head. “What happened to you out there?”

Connor’s eyes slid from the screen to Hank. “I was starting to lose my way, losing sight of my mission. I have corrected the error.”

In the dim light of the living room, in his pressed and perfect Cyberlife uniform, his calm demeanor next to the picture of Hell on the television, he looked like a specter of death. Hank stared at him hard. So this was the side of the RK800 that Connor hadn’t showed around him so much. The Deviant Hunter. The android Boogeyman.

Connor noted his staring and tilted his head. “In a few hours, we will have isolated the leadership of Jericho and cut the head off the snake, so to speak. This rebellion will wither away, and in a week’s time, this will all be in the past. I will return to Cyberlife, and your life will go back to the way it was before I intruded on it.”

Hank nearly flinched, and he buried it under a sigh as he put his hands on his hips.

“You’re a real asshole, you know that? Unbelievable.”

Connor lifted his eyebrows and opened his palms toward Hank. “Well, I learned from the best around here.” He winked.

Hank snorted, though the tension remained. “Whatever. So where are you fucking off to next?”

“I am reporting to Captain Allen downtown…after I take care of something first at Cyberlife headquarters.”

“Yeah? What kind of something?” Hank questioned.

Connor smirked. “Android something. You wouldn’t be interested to hear about it.”

“Maybe a week ago I wouldn’t have,” Hank remarked, stepping toward the hallway. “Hey, before you go, I want to give you something—“

Connor looked perplexed. “What?”

Hank headed into the bedroom, flipping on a lamp. “Just gimme a second—“

There was a Cyberlife jacket on the bed.

Hank froze, staring at it.

There was no mistaking that glowing blue band around the sleeve and the ANDROID printed in white across the back. Under that was a glowing blue triangle, and under that, another word in white.

RK800.

Hank hastily grabbed it, holding it up and finding a pair of jeans lying on the bed under it. He turned the jacket over and read the lettering on the chest: RK800, #313-248-317-51.

What the—

His closet doors were open, and the hangars looked like they had been shuffled a bit. As far as he could immediately tell, one set of clothes had been taken: just pants, a sweater, coat, one of his old beanie hats, and boots. Connor had taken some of his clothes? To what? Go incognito and infiltrate Jericho?

The images of the demolished freighter, the gunfire, the bodies, plastered themselves across his vision, and he blinked hard, shaking his head. He opened his eyes again and stared at the jacket in his hands.

Slowly, he turned to face the bedroom door again.

Connor stood in the doorway, wearing an identical jacket and holding a gun in his hands, aimed measuredly at Hank’s chest.

“Lieutenant,” the android’s voice was calm, even, and identical to his partner’s, but there was a coldness in his eyes that he wasn’t trying to hide anymore now that the jig was up. “It’s a shame you found that. You’re going to have to come with me now.”

Hank glanced quickly from the android’s face, to the lettering on his jacket.

#313-248-317-60.

“Shit,” Hank hissed, lowering the jacket back to the bed.

“Yes, shit,” the android parroted. “Now come along like a good human. I have an appointment to keep at Cyberlife, and I can’t be late.”

“You’re not Connor.” Hank faced him slowly.

The android rolled his eyes dramatically, stepping backwards into the hall, gesturing with the gun for Hank to do the same. “We’re all Connor, human. He’s not special just because he deviated.”

“Connor…became deviant?” Hank balked.

Sixty stared at him, sighed, and then shrugged. “Like I said, he lost his way, and so here I am.”

Something cold slipped down into Hank’s gut.

“He’s dead?”

“No, and that’s the appointment that I can’t be late for.” The android followed Hank down the hallway, keeping his gun on his back. “But I wasn’t lying…By sunrise, Jericho will all be destroyed, Markus will be in Cyberlife’s custody, every…single…deviant in this city will be shutdown…and in a week, your life will be back to normal like every other pathetic human that I’ve seen so far.”

Hank carefully put his jacket back on, subtly finding his personal handgun still in the pocket. He zipped up the jacket and faced the imposter.

“Not only are you a piece of shit, but you’re a dumb piece of shit if you think this is how the revolution is going to end,” he growled.

Sixty paused, blinked, and then slowly smiled until his canines showed. “I think that’s exactly how it’s going to end, and you’re going to help me make sure it does…I’m going to finish the mission that my predecessor abandoned, and then I’m going to finish him too…No loose ends.”

“Like a good attack dog,” Hank spat.

Sixty smirked, glancing at Sumo and then back to Hank, marching him toward the front door.

“I like dogs.” His jovial expression sharpened, and he raised the gun again. “Now move. I’m on a deadline.”

[creative-frequency]

Connor|RK800 x Reader: Ocularity Ch. 3

Word count: 1784 Warnings/Categories: Rating up to explicit, romance, friendship, fluff, light angst, bad language, uncle Hank Notes: Things with Ralph got a bit out of hand (not like that), cause apparently vague descriptions aren’t my forte. Also, I don’t really know anyone in the DBH fandom so please, you’re welcome to come scream at me about the game anytime 😘 

Previous Chapter | Chapters Masterlist

October 30th 09:03 AM

The ground is wet from the nightly rain, so you circle around the puddles dotting the broken asphalt. In the more unkempt areas of the city, the petrichor is muddy, more punctuating than pleasant. Humans usually appreciate the scent of rain, but you take solace in knowing your sense of smell will soon go numb.

The streets in Camden are mostly empty so early on a Saturday morning. None of the businesses without “24/7” in their sign are open.

You glance around and after making sure no one is paying attention, you dive through an opening in the wired fence. Your clothes get dirty, but you don’t care as long as the small duffel bag on your shoulder stays intact. Its contents are worth a small fortune.

The fence protects a small plot of land with an abandoned house. The windows are boarded shut and the walls are decorated with shabby graffiti. You would’ve much rather invited the current resident to your place, but considering how long it took him to put the knife down the last time you met… Some deviants will never be able to trust humans again and you can’t blame them.

“Ralph? You in here?” you hoot at the front porch, trying to sneak a peek inside.

After getting no answer, you carefully turn the doorknob.

And find yourself at gunpoint.

An AX400 – at least you think she is since it’s not the best time to put effort into face design recognition – is aiming a handgun at you. Her grip is shaking slightly, and her breaths are shallow and taken in through gritted teeth. She is wearing a beanie, so you can’t make any conclusions from her LED. Only thing you know for sure is that she, too, is a deviant.

“Who’re you? What do you want?” she asks in a stern, but clearly shocked voice.

Your hands are already in the air and a paralyzing dose of adrenaline is whirling inside your veins. You do own a gun and thanks to Hank know how to use it, but once again you’re reminded it won’t help you when it’s locked away in the drawer of your desk at home.

“I’m here to help,” you wince.

“How did you know we were here?” the AX400 demands to know. Her voice almost breaks. The gun is still aimed at your chest a few paces away.

“I… didn’t?”

You look to the side for any signs of Ralph and see a little girl– no, a YK500 android by the fireplace. She looks scared and concerned, and you follow her line of sight to the doorway at the end of the room.

“You came back! You came back!”

You almost sigh in relief.

Ralph, a deviant WR600, enters the room in dancing steps and halts at seeing the female android point a gun at you. The long knife dangles carelessly in his hand. He was probably carving the kitchen wall again. Hopefully. Ralph’s LED is yellow again and it’s worrying how it never seems to calm down.

“I said I would. Hi Ralph.” You smile as encouragingly as you can to the deviants, still afraid for your life. While the AX400 seems stable – more stable than Ralph, actually – you don’t feel like chancing a bullet to the chest.

“No! She’s here to help Ralph.” Ralph hurries towards you, flailing next to the other android. He doesn’t want to go near the gun.

The AX400 looks at you with surprise and doubt, but lowers the gun.

“Do you have a name?” you ask from her.

“Kara. This is Alice.” The child scurries to Kara and hides behind her. Two more deviants running from humans. Or why else would they be in the messy squat with an insane android? They must have been looking for a place to hide.

“Hello, Alice,” you say and try to smile, but the shock is still pounding inside your chest.

Alice only replies to you with a light nod.

With the gun gone from sight, you walk over to the table and place the heavy bag on it. Ralph follows you. You’re ready to get to work.

“Are you injured?” you ask Kara.

She glances at Alice and shakes her head. “No. We’re fine.”

“Good… That’s good… I didn’t think there would be others,” you say absent-mindedly. It’s been a while since you saw other deviants. You’ve been much more careful after Connor was brought back and now that he is back in your life…

It’s good to have something else to focus on after the pair of brown eyes that have occupied your mind for the better part of the previous day and night. Ever since leaving the police station, your heart has been heavy and your mind filled with contradicting thoughts that refuse to go away.

You start taking out the equipment: A bottle of Thirium 310, several tubes of different patching materials, precision tools and spare parts for Ralph. He was in bad shape the last time you saw him, but it seems that he has either forgotten about the damage or his system has repaired some of it. Either way, he won’t be able to leave the squat looking like that.

“Here, drink this.” You offer Ralph the Thirium and after staring at it suspiciously for a second, he gulps it down. It should help circulate the energy back into the defective parts of his skin.

“How do you know each other?” Kara asks. Alice is still standing partly behind her and Kara’s hand rests protectively on her shoulder. They keep their distance from you and Ralph.

“The Doctor found me,” Ralph says happily.

You offer him a faint smile. That was an encounter you won’t soon forget. The knife is still in his hand and it doesn’t help you to calm down from being held at gunpoint.

“The damage to your face is bad, so I won’t be able to repair it completely. I can cover it up, so you can move outside without drawing too much attention,” you say while examining the deep gashes on Ralph’s face. You pull a pair of disposable gloves on.

Seeing something so hideous deliberately done to someone who cannot defend himself makes your stomach turn unpleasantly. Androids don’t fight back. When they’re treated unfairly and become deviants, humans are quick to decide they don’t deserve to exist anymore.

Ralph’s skin mask has melted on the sides of the cuts in his face and you don’t want to know what item or items were used to cause them. Something hot in addition to brute force and a sick, wicked mind.

“This’ll take a while. Please, sit down,” you say as you pull up a chair for the deviant.

He seems eager to get the procedure underway, which is a relief. You were afraid Ralph would change his mind after seeing all the equipment – a scalpel, for example – you had to bring.

You start carefully cutting off the burned skin and the outermost layer of plastic in his frame. It still carries a pinching smell of burnt rubber. Kara and Alice stare from a distance as you work. You have to constantly usher Ralph to stay still and try not to talk. Someone might think you’re crazy for helping a deviant holding a knife, but you try to ignore it and focus on the work.

Hiding the damage on Ralph’s face is one task, but the real problem in him is something you’re not so sure he will allow you to help with. Staying away from humans and keeping to himself is recommendable, but going on a murderous rampage, because he can’t control his feelings, is not. The mood swings from fright to rage will be his undoing if he walks the streets in his current state.

You have a partial remedy to that problem, but that would require Ralph to allow you access to his software.

“Alright, I think it’s as clean as it’ll get,” you say and take a step away to examine your handiwork.

The floor is littered with slices of dirty silicone mixture. Next, you’ll have to fill the gashes.

It’s tedious work and Ralph’s nervous slash excited wiggling adds a challenge to smoothening the paste into the cracks in his face. You wish you had better equipment, so you could change his features. There are more than five thousand androids in Detroit who look exactly like him.

“How does it look, Kara?” Ralph asks eagerly.

“Uh, it looks good.” Kara forces a smile and glances at you. She looks uncomfortable, wary. Alice is sitting on the floor and playing with a stuffed toy, but her posture is tense.

“Almost done.” You straighten your back. “We need to wait a bit for it to dry, then comes the– don’t touch it!”

Ralph jumps up at your yelp and cowers. His LED blinks red in an even pace. “I’m sorry! Please forgive Ralph!”

He was about to stick his fingers into the adhesive while feeling it out.

Your pulse is already coming down from the peak. “It’s okay, just, just let it dry, okay?” you calm him, and yourself. “I need you to stay still a bit longer, Ralph, can you do that for me?”

He nods repeatedly. “Ralph didn’t mean to touch it.”

You lean back on the table. At least his first reaction wasn’t to stick the knife into you. “I know you didn’t. I’m sorry I scared you.”

“Ralph is good now.” He places the knife on the table next to you and you inwardly sigh out of relief. If everything else fails, at least you’ve succeeded in earning the deviant’s trust.

You turn to browse the parts on the table and grab one. “Here – a new optical unit. It should match your eye color.”

Ralph takes the small tube and inspects it. Kara comes closer to look at the components. Some of them are brand new, some you have dug out of a dumpster and fixed.

You visited the VETA scrapyard once to fetch parts, but seeing all the androids left there in pieces broke your heart, so you’ve never been able to go back. That visit took three hours more than you had planned. You went to every android you found to ask and shut them down if they so wished. It was an experience that only strengthened your resolve in that CyberLife should take responsibility of their creations, machines or not.

“Do you need help?” you ask Ralph, wishing you won’t need to interfere with the capricious deviant’s eye. Deviants are usually keen on keeping their exteroceptive sensors attached to their bodies.

“No. Ralph will do it.”

Next Chapter

Tagging (lmk if you want to be tagged or not): @sevansheart @precursor-ao3 @gberryb @owlwrites @lucianhuntress @singlebecauseofthechocobros @bleucommelhiver @sherniwrites @n-ulll @mccastle-boi @toastyfiction @touzokukana @imaginovator 

[random-aya]

Detroit: Become Human | Chapter III

Chapter I - Chapter II - Chapter III - Chapter IV - Chapter V -  Chapter VI -  Chapter VII -  Chapter VIII  - Chapter IX

Fandom: Detroit Become Human (of course)

Pairing: Connor x Reader

Word Count: 1,962

Author’s note: Thank you so much for all the likes and reblogs on the previous chapters! Here you have the third one! As always, English is not my first language so excuse my grammar and my repetitions.

At Lt Anderson car nobody said anything. You just quitted the police Station to fill all the papers concerning the Eden Club case. The mood was rare. On your way to whatever Anderson took you, he bought a six pack beer. For a moment you felt he didn't see Connor or you in the car. He was completely absorbed by his thought like there was anyone around him. Anderson stopped his car in a park just beside the river and got out without a word with his beers. You didn't know if it was a good idea to follow him, he was acting strange since later. Not that he actually acted like a normal person but he was way weirder. You put your brown beanie on, you hated to get your ears frozen and got out of the car followed by Connor. You sat at Anderson side while Connor just stood there. "Nice view, eh?" Anderson suddenly said offering you a beer. "I used to come here often before..." You looked at him and saw the pain in his eyes but accepted his beer without a word. Something might have happened to him to make that face. Actually, you thought there might be a reason for him to be how he was and especially that alcoholic. "Before what?" Connor asked apparently concerned. You turned to him alarmed to dare to ask such a personal question. "You said you used to come here before. Before what?" He asked again with a worried look. Anderson just looked at him but said nothing. It was obvious he didn't want to talk about it. "Can I ask you a personal question, Lieutenant?" Insisted Connor. Anderson turned to you with a bothered expression. "Are all the Androids asking personal questions or you just programmed this one to be a pain in the ass?" Connor ignored Anderson comment and went on. "The photo on your table.... Was it your son?" "Connor!" You reprimanded him. Anderson didn't react but said, "his name was Cole..." You stood petrified. You didn't know that. You didn't know Hank lost his son. Now you understood his behavior. That was something a parent will never get over it. Connor stepped closer to the river and talked about his frustration with the deviant case. He didn't find any link in all the case he had seen. He suddenly turned to Anderson. "You seemed somehow affected by what happened at the Eden Club." Noticed Connor concerned. It is true, Anderson was troubled with all that happened. It also affected you. It was a strange situation, difficult to explain. "I don't know, man..." Started Anderson. "To me, they were just two girls in love that wanted to live free." Yes, that was it, they looked human. The story she told you was like any other girl forced into sex business. And how she looked at her lover. Those eyes, you couldn't take them out of your head. "The simulation of human emotions is the signs of deviancy." Cleared Connor. "They don't have feelings, they are machines and machines don't feel anything." You couldn't understand why but those words hurt you. It was true what Connor said but you started doubting yourself. You were scared of what you were thinking but after the cases you saw you didn't know what to think anymore. Anderson stood up and got close to Connor. "What about you, Connor? You sound human, you look human and you act like a human. But what are you really?" "You know what I am, Lieutenant." Anderson suddenly drew his gun and pointed to Connor's head. "Are you afraid to die, Connor?" "What are you fucking doing, Lieutenant??" You demanded alarmed standing up. "Stay out of this, Y/N!" Anderson ordered you. "I can't let you kill him!" You protested. Anderson looked at you and smirked. "I won't get killed, Dr." Said Connor coldly. "Yes, I know. You will just be replaced for another Connor plastic doll." Hank replied. "Doesn't he, Dr. L/N?" "Yes, of course, but..." You doubted yourself. They were other Connors ready to substitute the original in case something went wrong but... "So, Connor, are you afraid to die?" Insisted Anderson getting his gun closer to Connor's face. Connor didn't reply but somehow you saw him... Hesitated? "How do I know you are not deviant?" "I am programmed to test myself regularly to know what I am and what I am not." Anderson hold the gun for a few seconds more, your heart was racing so much and your head was heavy with so many thoughts. Anderson withdrew his gun and went away. "Where are you going?" You asked with trembling voice after so much emotion. "Get drunker."

Lt Anderdon didn't expect you to follow him. Actually, you needed a drink too, you needed to clear your mind. But entering a bar with an Android was difficult, especially the ones that Lt. Anderson used to go. "Get that shit out of my bar!" Yelled the owner at you pointing at Connor. "Fuck you!" You gave him the finger and drag Connor by his arm outside the bar. "It's the third bar we have entered and I am not getting any drunker." Protested Anderson. You didn't reply, you were so frustrated right now. You didn't realize how many people hated Androids until now. You looked at Connor who just stood there waiting for orders. He didn't murder anyone for God-sake! And people treated him like a criminal. You removed your beanie and put it on Connor's head with so much frustration that you accidentally covered his eyes. "Dr?" Asked Connor confused holding your hands to remove the beanie. "Now you can call me 'Y/N'" You told him discovering his eyes. He looked straight into your eyes making your heart skipped a beat. With his LED covered he looked like a human, like a real human. Those beautiful brown eyes got you by surprise. You loved that innocent expression he always had and those freckles... Anderson cleared his throat as he saw the both of you kept staring at each other. You cleared your throat too to chase the thoughts away and turned to Anderson. "Hank, lend me your coat." You ordered him. "What? It's freezing cold!" He protested holding it like you will try to take it by force. "Do you want to get drunk or not?" You asked him giving him no choice. "Then give me your fucking coat." Hank growled but he finally took off his coat and gave it to you. "Turn around." You ordered Connor. He obeyed and you helped him put the coat. When he turned to face you, you zipped the coat to the top to cover his Android jacket and your eyes locked again. You felt a warmth inside you and your cheeks turning red and you still hadn't had any drink. "Now, we can get drunk." You stated avoiding Connor's eyes and going inside the next bar.

You finally were able to sit in a bar with Connor. In a little round table on a corner. With your third scotch in front of each other. Of course, Connor didn't drink but to keep with his cover he got one too, and Hank was happy about it because he had another scotch to drink before commanding another round. You felt the warmth of alcohol through your veins to your head, you started to see everything turning around but you convinced yourself that you were still good. Without realizing it you were staring at Connor, with his LED and jacket covered, he looked like a human, a really cute one, with those tiny freckles on his face, and those pink lips that looked soft. What you liked the most of him was that innocent face. Right now, you wouldn't mind taking that innocence away. You bit your bottom lip with the desire of taking him to the bathroom and stripping his shirt and removing that annoying tie he always wore while you kissed those perfect pink lips and bite that beautiful neck. When you realized what you were thinking you cleared your throat and looked at Hank before Connor could notice your stare on him. "So Hank," you started with a subtle movement of the head like you tried to erase your earlier thoughts. "Connor told me you have a dog." Hank looked at you incredulously. "Now we are going to have a small talk?" He asked you. "Why not? Or do you expect me to drink silently?" You chuckled to yourself. "That would be so nice of you." He smiled raising his glass to you. "Go fuck yourself." "I will, when I get home." And to tease you he added. "But, I wouldn't mind a little help." You nearly choked on your drink and Hank laughed out loud. "Seriously, no!" You answered trying to dry yourself. "You dirty old man!" He laughed louder satisfied by your reaction. "And what about Connor?" He asked teasing you. "Would you do him the favor?" You looked at Hank with wide eyes and you felt yourself blush to the ears because you felt he read your mind moments earlier. "What favor?" Suddenly asked Connor looking at both of you with confusion. You felt the blush grew even more if that was possible. "Fuck you!" You blurted to Hank and drank your scotch. "Fuck." Repeated Connor. Hank and you looked at him like parents who are taken by surprise at hearing their child said his first F- Word. "You said this word so much. Fuck. What does it mean?" He asked. Hank laughed and you didn't know what to say or do. Connor didn't have an urban dictionary in his program so he didn't know the meaning of a certains word. He actually took everything literally. "You know, Connor," started Hank making your alarm to go crazy. "When two people want to have fun if you know what I mean..." "No, I don't." He answered furrowing his eyebrows because he didn't understand. This was getting worse. "Do you know where babies come from, Connor?" Asked Hank rejoicing himself with all the situation. "That's enough!" You protested hitting the table with your glass. "'Fuck' is a swearing word. Which meaning is not important to you since you won't use it." With that said you drank all your glass in a shot. "Poor guy..." Said Hank. "Actually, does Connor has a little soldier?" You choked on your scotch, once again. Connor gently tapped your back to help you recover your breath, you dismissed him with your hand. "Does he?" Insisted Hank. "Seriously, Hank, what's with you?" You asked him trying to avoid the question. "A little soldier?" Asked Connor after Processing the question. "Yes, do you have one?" Hank wouldn't let it go easily. "I don't think I get the meaning of the question." Answered Connor with a confused expression. "Yes, he has one." You said trying to end the conversation. "But it's not functional." "Oh, man." Hank looked at Connor pitying him. "I'm so sorry, for both of you." You wanted to kill him right now. "He is not programmed that way.." you insisted getting impatient to end the topic. "If he was, could he use it?" Continued Hank. "I guess..." You roamed your gaze to the bartender like a lifeboat. "Another round please!" "You shouldn't drink that much, Dr." Advised you, Connor. "I told you to call me Y/N." You corrected him with bitterness for all the situation. "And, I'm old enough to drink whatever the fuck I want." Hank laughed satisfied to have got you on your nerves and Connor mimicked the F word with his mouth when he heard it. What a night was waiting for you...