Ahahahaha to all those who read Fight Forever... I'm so sorry. I really don't plan to discontinue it, but I'm really not sure if I'll have the time/inspiration to write it over the summer like I said I might. Simon's just fighting me bad and I don't know what to do about him. I'll try to make him cooperate.

ANYWAY fluff! Connor gets a Samoyed cause I say so! I'm sorry if its badly written, I wrote all of this while tired and edited it the same way. No, the dog is not named after GoT, I got the inspiration for the name before I remembered that it's in there.


AUG 2nd, 2039

DOG PARK

TIME: 7:49.27 PM (EST.)

It was almost unbelievable, Connor mused, that the revolution had ended nearly nine months ago. Things had finally cooled down with the humans, treaties had been signed, New Jericho built up out of an old abandoned complex in Ferndale, and Connor had moved in with Hank Anderson once his help was no longer needed constantly. Markus still called every evening, checking on him and the situation with the policemen that Connor now worked with once again, but no real problems had arisen.

Nine months. Connor had been deviant longer than he'd ever been a machine. It didn't make up for the hundreds of androids he'd killed – nothing ever could – but it was still significant, to him at least.

Sumo pressed his nose into Connor's hand, pulling him from his thoughts. A ball rolled out of Sumo's mouth and his tail wagged slowly as Connor palmed the slobbery ball, mentally calculating the distance he wanted to throw it – Sumo had been slowing down the last few throws, Connor didn't want him to have to run as far this time.

"Kid."

He turned to see Hank standing by the dog park gate, dressed comfortably for the cooler weather.

"Yes, Hank?" Connor asked, gently tossing the ball. He didn't miss Hank's eyes tracking it as it landed and rolled halfway across the fenced in area. His shoulders were tense, in that way they always were when the lieutenant was wondering about something but was unsure how to phrase it. Sumo trotted off, clearly tiring.

"Sumo's almost ready to go." Hank observed instead of asking his question. He nodded instead of answering as the giant St Bernard trotted back over, shoving his head under Connor's hand once more for scratches that he happily supplied. His fur was soft under Connor's sensors, warm due to his recent exercise.

"So what date were you born again?"

Connor blinked, glancing up at Hank. "Come again?"

"I'm not repeating myself," the lieutenant huffed, well aware Connor had heard him without issue.

"I wasn't born, I was assembled." The RK800 pointed out, grabbing Sumo's leash. The other androids hadn't lived long enough to decide if things such as "birthdays" were important to their people or not. "But I was created August third, twenty-thirty-eight. Why?"

"That's tomorrow," Hank noted. "Why didn't you say something?"

Connor shrugged. It hadn't been important to him, but it made sense that Hank would ascribe importance to it. Humans made a big deal of surviving a consecutive 365 days. "I barely remember it myself." not true he remembered everything – terrified faces, his shame and anger, the Deviant Hunter – in vivid detail, but he'd barely been aware of his own existence then. "Was I supposed to say something?"

Hank waved his hand in a way Connor had to come to associate with 'nah'. Sumo wagged his tail a little harder as they walked out to the car together in comfortable silence.

Connor didn't think of it again until the next day.

AUG 3RD, 2039

ANDERSON RESIDENCE

TIME: 9:57.25 PM (EST.)

Connor had finally set the TV to some old reruns of a show about humans attempting – and admittedly, failing – an obstacle course involving such things as sunning across huge red ball suspended on poles, when Hank finally came home. He had dropped Connor off at home after work and left, citing "errands", declining when Connor offered to go with. He'd been gone almost two and a half hours, which wouldn't have been weird in and of itself, as Hank sometimes needed his space, but it was a weekday. Hank specifically reserved errands for weekends due to the demanding nature of their jobs. And then he hadn't at least told Connor where he was going, on top of everything else.

All in all, incredibly weird and worrying. But he was home now, and Connor couldn't see any actions indicating he'd been bar-hopping from the front door as Hank wrestled with something in the passenger seat.

"Welcome home, Hank." He called cheerfully, a thump-thump-thump from Sumo's rug behind him revealing the St Bernard's happiness at his owner's safe return. "Do you need help?"

"Nah, nah, I got it," Hank huffed, waving at the android to go back inside. Connor ignored him, opening the trunk to see… dog toys?

"I wish you'd have told me you were going to get Sumo some more toys, I could have picked some out," he noted. New dishes and puppy food sat towards the – puppy food?

"Wait, wha- Connor!" Hank solidly whacked his head on the car door scrambling to get out. He made a low groaning noise at the sight of Connor by the open trunk. "…That was supposed to be a surprise."

"Whatever for?"

"Yip!"

Hank sighed, shoulders slumping in defeat. A small, fuzzy white animal stumbled out of the car, a blue bow tied around its neck, landing haphazardly. Connor stared as the puppy regained its feet, automatically scanning it.

SAMOYED PUPPY

FEMALE

SEVEN MONTHS

Information about the Samoyed breed downloaded itself into his control panel, as well as information about puppy raising, how to train them, how much she would need to eat, ect.

Unaware of his thought process, the puppy yipped again as Hank scooped her up in his arms, then settled, only to wriggle again in happiness as her eyes met Connor's. Connor finally tore his eyes away from her to Hank, who seemed embarrassed to have been caught, but pleased. The human smiled at him, then offered the puppy. Working on autopilot, he accepted.

"Happy birthday, Connor."

The puppy sniffed his hands, then licked them. If she realized he was an android, it didn't appear to make much difference to her, as she yipped before attempting to lick his face. She couldn't reach, so Connor settled her against his chest, to her utter joy. She wriggled even more, working her way up until her tongue could press against his cheek.

"Hank, I… What? How?"

"Well you said yesterday that your birthday was today, and I well, I couldn't let that slide unnoticed. Figured a puppy could keep up with you better than Sumo, though finding a puppy with one day's notice took some doin'." Hank seemed to understand. He usually did. "Luckily a dog at the shelter had given birth and they still had puppies. Went and got her, and then some food and stuff. Only thing I didn't get is a collar and tag, and she could still use a visit to the vet."

"…Are you sure?" Connor almost couldn't believe it. Hank had gotten him a dog? For him?

"She wouldn't be here if I wasn't. I don't think I need to give you the responsibility speech about taking care of her, yeah? You seem to have that down," Hank winked at him with a chuckle.

"I… wow, uh, thank you!" Connor buried his face in the human's shoulder, attempting to hug him without squishing the dog. "I love her!"

"I'm sure. Now, lets go inside. What are you going to name her?"

AUG 6TH, 2039

ANDERSON RESIDENCE

5:19:38 PM (EST.)

Connor has a bit of a difficult time choosing a name. She needed something that fit, and he just hadn't found it by that first day. In fact, it was about three before he figured out her name. An incredibly ridiculous amount of time for him, something that must've driven Hank to horrible frustration, but the man handled Connor's indecision well.

The second night he had her gave Connor the biggest clue as to her name. It rained the hardest it had all year, soaking the yard and leaving inch-deep puddles everywhere for hours. When Connor went to let the dogs out, Sumo splashed about without a care in the world for the mud getting all over his fur, but she barely got her paws wet and muddy before refusing to go any further into the yard. She sat primly, head high, complaining loudly at Connor until he washed her paws.

She was definitely a prim dog, though excitable, as that wasn't even her only clue. She disliked being wet, was quiet, and even her run seemed to have grace to it that shouldn't be in a puppy. She was talkative, but in a quiet growly way, and loved being brushed and petted. And cuddled. She loved nothing more than to be cuddled.

Connor adored her.

So it seemed only natural that when he figured out her name, he thought that there was nothing else it could have been.

Arya. It had Old Iranian and Sanskrit origins and meant "noble one's".

"Arya, come here girl." Connor cooed. Arya perked up like she'd known her name her whole life, leaving cuddling Sumo behind to rush over to Connor. He scooped her up, this adorable, wiggly, prim fluff ball who'd only been in his life for a few days as she tried to lick his face, before settling down. Sumo thumped his tail once, probably glad for a moment to rest. And Connor looked, looked at this house, at the dogs, and at the human at the kitchen table who'd invited him to live there. Really looked at the ones who'd built him a home here.

And he couldn't think of a better place to be.


I doubt any of you will but if you'd like to see more of Arya let me know. Also just y'know... feel free to let me know what you think anyway. Have a great week y'all