A New Start: Partners

Chris had discarded the pastries he had brought on one side of the break room. Nobody had worked up the courage to try his wife's newest lifestyle kick, not that Hank would necessarily blame them. They were made out of enough random herbs and healthy shit, and no amount of Chris promising they were not in fact actual shit could sway the uncanny resemblance between the two. Hank may not necessarily care about what he put in his body, but he was not ignorant enough to test his tolerance with that. Truthfully he'd sooner jump to try the evidence that Connor seemed ever so keen of putting into his mouth.

The drowsy shuffling of feet and loud whirring of a constantly running coffee machine occupied the other side. DPD staff crowded around it eagerly awaiting its cycle to complete so that they could kick-start their day, and Gavin ingested just enough caffeine to erupt into his usual cacophony of loud remarks and comments about fuck-all that morning. Of course the prick couldn't grant the precinct any reprieve for a couple hours.

And here Hank was, a deafening insistence in his tone that left little room to argue over Connor's suggestion the last umpteenth time that he had mentioned it to him. "No fucking way!" His android companion looked contemplative, but even moreso unsatisfied with his decision. "I have had too many birthdays. I am getting too fucking old for this shit!"

Just another normal day.

Hunched over his desk, reaching for a tablet furthered the notion that he needed to clear his desk of personal clutter. All of his memorabilia piling up over the years was beginning to make finding anything nigh to impossible, another indication made clear when he bumped a couple of pens to the floor with his elbow. Letting out a curse, he dismissed it to the abyss that was the underneath of his desk, staring at the tablet screen with faux concentration. The contrast between their work stations was apparent, Connor's completely clean of surface clutter and always had a fresh sheen to it.

Perhaps it was time to update the photo tacked to the wall at his right-seeing as he was no longer a part of the red ice division. If they took one of just the android's crime's department, it would be a photo of just the two of them. Still, at least Connor would have something. More than the occasional impractical sticky note from Gavin.

Nevertheless, when he wasn't reciting the nutritional value of Hank's entire diet or making suggestions to better approach certain situations with a "more positive mental attitude", he spent the majority of free time he had in searching for leads, looking through the database, and filling out the paperwork that Hank loathed doing. Granted, Connor could fill out a report in a mere few seconds and have it submitted before Hank could even find a pen.

In the early days of the deviancy case, he'd been under the impression that androids were believably obedient machines. It had to be some sort of predestined fate that the android partner he'd been assigned chose to refuse every direct order he offered. Their first meeting had been the product of the detective prototype not obeying a "No Android's Allowed" sign and coaxing Hank into accompanying him to a murder investigation.

Abruptly after, any orders given by Hank were mere suggestions. Not staying in the car when told, jumping over a fence and nearly getting himself killed on a highway-that had pissed him off-breaking into his house to request accompanying him to yet another murder investigation, and running off to join an android revolution only for Hank to nearly be killed by some doppleganger asshole. Just to name a few...

His insistence of celebrating his birthday was no exception in the long list of arguments the two had, but at least this one didn't result in the android throwing himself in front of bullets or fighting crazed androids wanting freedom, and willing to kill to get it.

Building a partnership on a constant bickering to get him motivated while Hank in return would nearly have an aneurism when the android so carelessly threw himself at obstacles headfirst-with an unwavering mentality that he was replaceable-had proven to be more irritating than Hank could put into words. To Hank, there could have been one hundred Connor's manufactured, but his sarcastic and awkward nature was impossible to replicate.

He supposed he didn't mind having Connor around.

Despite androids being paid a meagre wage to perform the duties they had held before being granted their freedom, many chose not to return. Instead, they left it behind in the hopes of finding a larger purpose than their programming had decided for them. They would strip their LED, change their appearance, and leave in pursuit of something more. Connor had stayed in Detroit, proudly wore his android markers, and showed no signs of wanting the detective android aspect of his life to change. While he had shown significant changes in his behavior, he remained the same Connor. Truthfully, Hank wouldn't have him any other way.

But, of course he'd never admit that. Burying his nose in a screen and pretending to busy himself, while a lame attempt to avoid the subject, his specialty remained to shove things off to the side that he likely shouldn't and move on. As far as work went, Hank's celebration into an even older age had to be the only thing that Connor would discuss instead of... well, work. That made it all the more difficult to avoid.

An all too familiar LED glared at him from his peripherals, more recently recognized as a sign of the android's thinking. Upon closer inspection, Connor's brows were furrowed, eyes locked onto Hank as if deciding alternative options to move their conversation into a more positive direction, something that would somehow change it in his favor. He wasn't getting anywhere. As Connor's lips parted to speak in a likely protest, Hank turned away, grumbling incoherently under his breath.

Perched on the part of the desk that the older lieutenant wasn't using, arms crossed over his broad chest, Connor was working a tick in his jaw. If androids had possessed the need to breathe-and their biocomponents that simply simulated breathing were in fact functional for that sole purpose-he would have released a sigh. For a brief instance he caught Connor's stoic expression, tight lipped, and silently asking for some sort of agreement between the pair. It wasn't offered.

"I have been researching human cultural practices and found that humans celebrate their creation one day out of the year and I thought that maybe-"

"Drop it." He interjected. "You want to celebrate, then do it for yourself why don't ya? Celebrate your one year since deviating. That's in a couple of months." His suggestion earned a thoughtful expression from the android, features folding over in confusion as he worked through a response.

"I do not believe that qualifies as the same thing, Lieutenant."

"Take my word for it for once. For now, let's just go over the case. If Jeffrey dumps any more shit about it on my desk I'm going to resign it." The words were a harmless jab in an effort to getting Connor motivated, which worked. Straightening from his rare hunched posture, his attention was diverted from the original topic, at least for now. Perhaps if he chose not to acknowledge it, the subject would simply dissolve.

"Do you think that it could have originated from the peace rally? The dates between then and the first incident," Hank rubbed at his forehead, brows pinching together. "They're pretty close together. Then again maybe it's some weird coincidence." The observation came out as a gentle muttering, slumping back against his chair. "Two guys got sent to the hospital last night. According to the reports they had just gotten out of some red ice anonymous meeting and were going home. Supposedly two androids jumped 'em. Miller went to ask some questions, but we ain't getting much out of them right now."

A file was then passed into Connor's steady hands, flicking through it with practiced ease while simultaneously picking apart any relevant information. As a result of the RK800's superior programming, he could see birth dates, weight, height, and criminal records by simply cross referencing the DPD's database. Hank was almost jealous. If humans possessed that ability, the meeting and getting-to-know-you portion of social relationships would be easier by miles. Then again, Hank didn't need superior programming to realize his time would be much better spent at home with Sumo.

The two victims, Thomas Greene and Liam Nicholson did in fact have a red ice history. They were not the worst druggies-previous or otherwise-that Hank had dealt with in the past, mere possession and usage that had earned them a few months jail time. It wasn't a total surprise that they had decided to seek outside help after that.

Detective Gavin Reed had been assigned all of the cases involving red ice since Hank had stayed on android crimes with Connor, but while pursuing their own leads with their own case there had been several instances that the three had crossed paths with each other. Gavin was not very subtle in his clear dislike for his android, even now, but that distaste was usually passed off as mere insults about his model or snide comments about the android's proper etiquette and very-rare-but-subtle smart-ass mouth, as opposed to any sort of physical altercation. The pair were both cautious not to piss him off too much, worried he would suddenly bust the android for the events that had transpired in the evidence room the previous year. It had taken a few weeks' paycheck and a few favors to coax him into keeping his mouth shut about whom had been responsible, and it was clear the ill feelings had never left.

Closing the case folder, Connor set it on his lap, fingers plucking gently at the corner. "If the claims of their whereabouts are correct, then perhaps our best course of action is to wait until they are able to provide less vague answers such as the android's models or any distinct characteristics. How many there were in total even." He advised.

"Maybe." Hank agreed, scratching at his chin thoughtfully. "Guess we could always focus on another lead the next few days, then see if they're able to provide anything else by the end of the week." With a pained sigh, Hank pinched the bridge of his nose, squeezing his eyes shut as though fighting off a headache.

The only upside was the amount of overtime. The downside was, for a lack of a better term, everything else. Working dawn to dusk had taken its toll, bags lining the underneath of his eyes that seemed to be more of a defining characteristic, a lethargic movement in his steps, and a constant chastising that he would need more alcohol in his system if he were to get through the week. His bad habits had slowed down since the revolution, but there were times he indulged himself when a case proved to be more tedious than originally thought.

Because of Connor's absence of needing sleep however, he was the one to usually work researching leads in exchange for allowing Hank much needed rest. Despite him not needing it, and no matter how many explanations were offered, he still insisted he try to take a break of some sort, even if that lead to him doing nothing for the majority of the evening. It would often result in a constant fidgeting about the case, and as a solution he had been given the job of walking Sumo every evening. A long but simple route, and a couple hours attending to the gentle giant every day usually succeeded in keeping both occupied.

Propping his elbow on the arm rest, leaning his head into a curled fist, his eyes met the too recently distant gaze of his partner's. "What do you think Connor?"

No response was offered, a gentle spinning yellow glaring back at Hank's inquiring scowl. Connor's features folded, eyes having trailed off to an empty space to his right. Upon further inspection, Hank realized nothing was there, a quick flicker of his eyes between confirming the assumption that Connor was off in some far off place elsewhere. An abrupt snap of his fingers in front of the android's nose brought him back, raising his eyebrows with a curious tilt of his head. "Why did you do that?"

"Normally you're pulling leads out of your ass." He remarked, eyes rolling to the side only to be immediately followed by an exaggerated sigh. "This is the first time you don't have some type of input? I think we've finally hit a damned wall with this case."

"That is not true Lieutenant. I cannot pull any leads out of any type of orifice." Connor clarified, forehead wrinkling, brows furrowed in confusion. "Also, I distinctly recall only one of us hitting a wall quite literally on one of our last suspect chases. The parts were relatively difficult to replace."

"It was a figure of speech." With a dismissive hand gesture, Hank reached across his desk to retrieve a stack of case files that didn't account for the large abundance he had already stashed away in his drawer. They began shortly after the peace rally and continued to spread at a steady pace. A virus was passing through androids, causing their systems and programming to rewrite itself. The majority would go crazy-uninvolving emotions as opposed to deviancy-and even the most timid of androids were suddenly becoming violent and self destructing on themselves. After nearly an entire year of dead ends and misinformation, the only conclusive leads they had was that it wasn't exclusive to any particular model, and androids that weren't yet awoken seemed to have the most difficult time fighting against it. Which didn't help them in the slightest.

Running a shaky hand through his hair-something Connor blamed on Hank's poort diet-his gaze never left him. "Could always go talk to Markus. Maybe he would know somethin'?"

Maneuvering from his perch to a standing position, Connor looked almost hesitant if not unnerved by the suggestion of visiting the deviant leader. His jawline shifting as he swallowed, he moved tentatively around the edge of the desk, fingers fumbling into his pocket for his coin. It rolled across his knuckles, coming to a complete stop upon being flicked into his opposing palm. "You haven't seen him since the rally." A gentle, prodding reminder, eyes following his companion as he very obviously attempted to avoid the subject. "I think it's about time we paid him a visit, don't you?"

Cyberlife stores and even the Cyberlife tower itself had been avoided since the revolution. The last time Hank had stepped foot in the latter, he'd had a gun trained between his eyes and was left with the decision of figuring out the lesser of two evils; his partner or... his partner. That didn't count the copious amounts of research that Connor had done, having a sneaking suspicion that Cyberlife was responsible for the virus spreading between androids, that they were making a last ditch effort to regain control and begin from scratch.

Except of course they couldn't prove that. The hatred that Connor harbored for them, while for the most part concealed, was evident in the theories that always seemed to circle back around to the android company. Markus had inquired Hank about his partner's distance, but other than voicing his concerns for Connor, he had yet to offer any sort of information.

"I don't know." Came his earnest response. "I've assessed the database's files and all of the reports involving assaults by androids. I have only come to the conclusion so far that it is present in older models, and the previously dormant androids are more susceptible." It was a meagre checklist and the frustration Connor felt was expected, if not reciprocated. "My most recent solution is to send a scan of its parts to Cyberlife, but.." He shook his head in defeat. "We need to catch one." And that was murder. They both knew that. Deactivating an android was a crime in their newfound rights, even for any sort of malfunction. "The second was to probe one's memory, but that could have unknown consequences regarding how it will affect my own systems."

"Makes this shit a bit difficult if we gotta keep you at a distance." Hank commented, and other than giving a small nod in response, he offered no comment. "At least until we know how it spreads."

"Could always take your chances. See what the hell happens." An all too familiar and unapologetically arrogant voice drew closer to where the two boys conversed. Gavin came to a full stop by their desks, arms folded over his chest with a smirk that never ceased to infuriate the older detective.

"Why don't you fuck off right now, Reed. Don't you have your own case?" Hank answered harshly.

"Unlike you and the plastic prick I've actually made headway." Gavin boasted, his interest in Hank gone for the moment as his attention flickered to Connor whom couldn't have looked less interested if he tried.

"Hey, plastic." Gavin halted in front of the android. The situation would have proven to be alarming, if the difference in height wasn't so amusing. Reed had to look up at him to address him, Connor's eyebrows raising, head swaying to the right.

"Hello, Detective Reed."

"I thought after the walking toasters were suddenly recognized as people you would leave. A detective android prototype designed to hunt deviants still doing the exact same damn thing." He sneered.

"I assessed that it would be appropriate to remain in the android department to further offer my assistance to the DPD." Connor stood there, his hands folded in front of him meeting Gavin's eyes. While maintaining a neutral expression, the little twitch in Connor's features was enough to portray his annoyance to the detective's harsh jabs.

"Yet you're still wearing your Cyberlife threads. I'd almost think that you were still wanting to hunt them down. Give you some sort of sick thrill, prick?"

"Reed." Hank interjected from his desk, pushing his chair back as he moved to a standing position. "That's enough."

"I believe that wearing my uniform shows more professionalism than a leather jacket and a relentlessly hostile attitude, Detective." Connor's brows raised then straightened sequentially, a gentle twitch pulling at one corner of his mouth.

"The hell did you just say to me, tin can?" Gavin leaned forward, arm pulling back to form a fist. The scene closely resembled a chihuahua standing up to a pit bull if you accounted for the height difference and the careless demeanor emanating from Connor.

"I said that's enough!" Hank barked, inserting himself between them. "Back off Reed. Can't you just fucking ignore him for five minutes?"

Gavin's eyes switched between Hank and Connor, snarling in frustration as his hands slipped seamlessly into his pockets. "Fuck," The curse released itself in an enraged spat pointing an accusing finger in the android's direction. "I'll never so much as tolerate the plastic asshole. The day there are two of him is the day I put in my resignation." One last threatening glare was thrown their way before he retreated across the precinct.

It had gone better than most times the two got into a spat, Hank decided. Usually Gavin was throwing a gun in Connor's face. It had never fazed him before and evidently it continued to unfaze him now. Then again the gesture wasn't completely unfamiliar to the android-Hank had been guilty for that look once.

Hank caught Connor's expression as Gavin was leaving. He watched him retreat through slit eyes, LED flashing yellow for a split second and then correcting itself. Jaw tensing, something dark was stirring deep within him, something troubled. It was only when Hank spoke again that Connor's attention was diverted.

"Let's go ask Markus some questions. Any idea where he might be?" He placed a hand on his shoulder, a gesture of reassurance that didn't quite reach him.

"Markus is at a Cyberlife store downtown overseeing the conversion and stock of dormant androids. We can start there." The gentleness in his features had returned as if the threat from the DPD's most eccentric detective had already been forgotten-at least it would have been if he wasn't squirming underneath a clenched jaw. Regardless, they had something more important to do. They needed to talk to Markus, which Connor seemed less than inclined to do. That observation was a question for later, and frankly Hank didn't anticipate an answer.

Features falling flat, the android detective's eyes flicked to his left as he stepped back to allow him through, hand falling from his shoulder to dangle uselessly at his side. "After you, Lieutenant."