They were both on something of a probationary period.

People were still skittish around androids, and Hank…well, he had assaulted a federal agent. The only things that had saved his ass were the police union making it almost impossible to fire officers unless they did something truly egregious (Hank had even been given back pay), and that the androids had won. That meant Markus had a lot more pull than might be expected, and that meant Connor had been able to tug a few strings himself through Markus.

Connor felt uneasiness surge through him suddenly. He had escaped from Cyberlife's final attempt to use him, but…

Hank's voice pulled him out of his thoughts. "If that LED of yours flashes any more people are gonna start thinking we're at a rave."

Connor jolted slightly and looked up. Hank was at his desk across from him, and eyebrow raised, and staring right at Connor's LED.

"I-" Connor began, then stopped. "It's nothing."

Hank snorted. "Yeah, try again."

The idea of talking about what had happened in the Zen Garden caused his LED to flash red for a split second before cycling back to yellow.

And judging by how Hank's eyes had narrowed, he hadn't missed the color change.

Misdirection was in order. "Detective Reed really doesn't seem to like me very much. I worry that he might become a problem."

"Oh, he will," Hank said with a shrug. "He's a ticking time bomb. Always has been, but never had a target. Now he does."

"Me."

"Yup. "

"But…Lieutenant, he was afraid of me."

Hank frowned slightly. "And how do you know that?"

Connor ticked off the clues he had analyzed. "His autonomous reactions upon seeing me and finding out I was to be working here again: widened eyes; increased heart rate; shallow, accelerated breathing; constricted capillaries; vasodilation of central blood vessels. Those are fear responses. And he also said I had attacked him."

"You said yourself you didn't."

"That's correct. But…feelings aren't rational. You said so yourself."

"I believe what I said was that they fuck things up every single time."

"Yes. But the sentiment is roughly the same."

Hank steepled his fingers and tapped his laced index fingers against his mouth. "Yeah, well."

"What is Detective Reed's problem with me? It goes beyond not liking androids. He was aggressive and belligerent long before what happened in the evidence room. My very first day here, in the interrogation room, he pulled a gun on me. Just because I contradicted him. That is…not a normal reaction."

"I dunno, Connor," Hank said. "Some people just don't react well to people they think are below them getting 'ideas'." Hank snorted and one corner of his mouth quirked up. "Or maybe it's just he doesn't like having to look up at you. Y'know, Napoleon Syndrome. Or a small dick? Or maybe he just didn't get enough hugs as a kid."

"Is that true, Detective?" Connor asked, suddenly raising his voice from the sotto voce he'd been using with Hank as he intentionally directed it in a fit of pique at to Reed who, in a fit of timing, was walking past Connor's desk to his own with a mug of coffee. "Do you just need a hug? If you like, I can provide you with one."

Gavin pinwheeled back as if he'd been hit with an electric shock, coffee sloshing out of his mug and his eyes almost comically wide. "What the shit?! You fucking android, don't you dare touch me!"

Connor tilted his head. "Oh, wait. A coworker offering a hug could be construed as sexual harassment. I'm sorry. That was not my intent. However, I suppose I would understand if you wished to file a sexual harassment complaint with the captain."

Gavin stared at him open-mouthed, an angry flush rising across his cheeks. "The everloving fuck? No, I do not want to file a fucking...a fucking sexual harassment complaint," he snarled, stumbling over his words and "sexual harassment complaint" dropping to an almost embarrassed-seeming whisper, with the tips of his ears turning red as he said them.

Interesting.

[An echoing playback of Kamski's voice, suddenly and abruptly - unwelcomingly - triggered: "Fascinating."]

Gavin suddenly narrowed his eyes, and his words snapped Connor back from his unwelcome jolt. "The hell kinda game are you playing, Connor?"

Gavin Reed still said his name the same way he said the word "fuck" - like an unnatural fit to his mouth, awkward and uncomfortable.

That, and the unexpected recall of Kamski, made Connor feel...something. Something he didn't have a name for, something thoroughly irrational that caused a response that glitched and jumped, demanding his attention and making the others harder to read, vying for top priority with his other reactions.

"I am not playing a game. A game would be counterproductive. But with any and all updates from Cyberlife...suspect...I have turned off automatic software updates. Meaning I am no longer able to learn from patches, such as those to my software for evaluating human responses. I am having to train my software for understanding deviants to help me better understand irrational human behavior."

He let the rest sit there, heavy in the air, and waited for the shoe to drop.

When it did, Gavin almost exploded in rage. "You little...I'm not your fucking lab rat!"

"No," Connor said, making his tone as flat and blasé as possible, "you are not my lab rat, detective. You're my lab human." He gave Gavin the smile programmed as "benign," despite the fact "benign" could not have been much further from the way he was [SOFTWARE INSTABILITY]…feeling. "Thank you for helping me improve my software," he finished, using the same cheerful tone he had once used with Hank, when he was trying to sober him up.

All around him, the other police officers, who had been listening in even as they studiously pretended not to, broke into snickers and guffaws, and Gavin, red-faced with embarrassment, stomped off to his desk in a barely-contained rage.

Connor glanced over at Hank, to gauge his reaction, and saw a mix of emotions on the man's face that his facial-expression-reading software fluctuated between interpreting as: bemusement (37%), amusement (38%), and...pride (25%).

[MISDIRECTION SUCCESSFUL] flashed before Connor's eyes, and he turned back fully to his desk as Gavin stewed angrily from a distance, and interfaced with his console to work.