Lieutenant Hank Anderson knew that it was going to be a bad day.

Maybe it had something to do with the fact that his android friend had woken him up with a bowl filled with ice cold water. No human should ever be subjected to such cruel and unusual punishment so early in the morning!

Or maybe it was the fact that he was wearing an ensemble that literally, in the words of one of his associates, "was so colorful, it burned the retinas of all those who stared directly at it".

That one earned a righteous middle finger.

Or maybe it was the fact that the DPD's biggest asshole, the unholy Gavin, had managed to look so smug and righteous at…

What was the time again?

It was fuckin' nine am.

Damn Connor and his little punctuality tick. Hank was all for equal rights and shit, but goddamn, Connor really liked pushing his buttons.

God, buttons. Hank's not even sure if that was even a good pun.

Goddamn.

And now, Gavin was asking questions even though he should know by now that his brain doesn't work so goddamn early in the morning!

"Fuck off, Gavin," Hank muttered more to himself than to his associate. "'Fore I blow your brains out."

"I wouldn't advise that. A criminal record would stain your career."

Hank turned around and saw that his partner, all smiley and wry, looks proud of himself.

Was he…making a joke?

Whatever it is, Hank isn't having any of it.

The seasoned veteran slumped down his seat and massaged his temples.

This is going to be a long day.

Unfortunately, Gavin didn't get the memo the first time.

"Wow, Anderson!" Gavin mock applauded. "You look like you're about to collapse. Need a," and this is where Hank's blood ran cold, "Hank?"

"Oh, god, Jesus Christ Almighty," Hank swears. "Lay off the puns, goddamit."

"Are you all right?" Connor's voice is perfectly worried, a sight that has Hank's chest warming at how much the android seems to care for him. "You look a little pale…perhaps, you need a Hank-erchief?"

Lo and behold, Hank knew that he was completely and irrevocably fucked.

The little fucker even had a tissue inside his pocket!

You would think that after two terrible puns, they would stop, but no. No, it was not the end.

"I got some case files here that I think you can Hank-dle."

"It's almost lunch time, are you Hank-ering for something?"

And so on. And so on.

Hank just couldn't believe that Gavin had converted his little robot friend to such…debauchery.

"I'm sorry," Connor apologized—insincerely, there was a little quirk at the edge of his lips— "but the opportunity to bolster better camaraderie with Gavin Reed proved to be advantageous."

"Yeah," Hank groused as he mock punched Connor in the bicep, "but at what cost?"

"Still, though, I must admit that you performed admirably today and for that—"

"Don't say it."

"I Hank you."

Goddamn it.