A/N: So this was supposed to be a one shot. Whoops! This one is in Hanks POV as a heads up. Also not beta read or anything. I also upped the rating for cursing in this chapter and suggestive themes that may come later.

"If she likes it so much why isn't she wearing it."

"You can ask her that you know."

"Why? You got her the dress."

"Yeah...? I did...? Is there a problem?"

"No. No problem at all, Lieutenant."

And he slips his hand out the handle, letting the department door slam inches away from his face.

Hank had seen many versions of the android, and, up until now, he thought he had dealt with them all. Annoyed Connor, Frustrated Connor. Upset Connor. Worried Connor. Confused Connor.

But this kind of Connor.

Jesus Christ have mercy.

x - x

"Can you describe it please?"

"Yes yes of course! Well now, the two shirts were blouses. Both blue with a little ruffle in the collars. Did I mention they were collared? Yes, both of them. Two fine cotton blue collared shirts-that were white-I should add-the collars were white! Yes, it does sound quite odd. Blue shirts with white collars but chic fashion makes the rules and I myself the seamstress can only follow what they tell me! So yes, yes, The shirts were blue. Well blue and white! You know, anyone can really talk for hours about clothes but when…oh! Oh, I'm rambling! ...Are you getting all of this, sir?"

"Huh?"

Hank had been typing at his computer, nodding and grunting in effort to push the conversation to an end. It was a quiet morning for homicide. No work to handle and no leftover paperwork. Nothing to do but take small cases from other divisions. Small cases like little old ladies who believed their private boutique store was robbed.

"Sir? I said are you getting all of this, sir?"

"Yeah yeah I am…. Is that it?"

The old woman laughs.

"Oh ho no sir! That's not even half the detail! I haven't described the back yet!"

Hank suppresses a lions groan behind his smile. The lady had spectacles the size of beer coasters. For an hour, she struggled to find his desk and she still couldn't find his face. Her head was currently angled at a box of donuts.

He didn't mean to think so cruelly but cases like this screamed, "accident". Soon enough, none of this would matter. The old lady would find a way to call the department and tell them, oh, my clothes were home all along! Yes the store is fine. In fact I don't even own a store! I'm sorry gentlemen. Happy Birthday now.

It sounded ridiculous but the old lady was most likely one of those regulars. The lovely ones who came to file faulty cases. Today was just his lucky day.

"Now sir! Every item is unique you know. There's no other like it! I sew them all myself, so every detail matters." She takes a breath and turns her head to a photo of Sumo. "And I appreciate the help of your assistant. He's been absolutely adamant at his work. I cannot wait to see his results."

Hank smirks at that. When the old lady finally arrived at their desk, Connor pulled up a seat for her, eager to put someone else in their space. The android had been silent and refused to speak to anyone without it being case related. Needless to say, the old lady had put him to work. Right away, she began describing her plea and right away, Connor opened his programming to recreate the descriptions on his screen. He had been silent ever since.

"Oh sirs! I just remembered something else! I also had a dress stolen too!"

He hears a chair stop.

"Really? Tell me."

"Oh, my certainly! Of course! I've got my list right here… I believe it is…ah ha! Now then, let me see….It wasn't too long or sturdy, yes that's right. It could blow in the wind easy you know, like a bed sheet. Not cotton. Lighter. Do you know the term viscose? Spandex? None of that drill. This was pure silk."

He didn't notice it right away. He was too busy typing up his own account. But suddenly…

"But did I compare it to a bed sheet? Oh no how could I... The dress is so much more precious than that… Ah. Yes. Do you need to know the other materials too? I had embroidery and lace... Sir..?"

Suddenly there were sounds. Keys being smacked. A mouse sliding too quick.

Hank peered up over his screen.

It was coming from Connor.

"To put it simply, silk is a gentle kind of fabric as it should always be… Very soft. Very light but not warm... Wouldn't serve a good purpose if it was! Oh but the color was special. A white cream you could say."

He'd say Connor looked odd. Or rather odder, but the android had a stick up his ass, so, he looked exactly as he should. As any pissed off human would appear. Lips twisted. Brows furrowed. Shoulders stiff.

"You know, the kind of shade in a clean moisturizer-but not any kind of store brand-no. I mean, just a touch of oatmeal-but just a touch!"

But his eyes were different. They didn't look angry. They looked like he was looking down a cliff. Down a cliff and...blushing.

"Uh…." Very soon, Hanks phone vibrated. A mass sent message from one of his coworkers.

It was a live video of Connor from behind. He was struggling, with his computer of all things. Each time he uploaded a description from the old lady, the dress on screen refused to change. And there was something familiar about it. It was a dress but…and then it hits. It was Kara's dress, and it was fighting him, meaning his own system memory was fighting him from doing anything at all. For every tap and click-it pops back on the screen, refusing to leave.

Connor hits the monitor. The screen flashes briefly and Hank swears he hears something from Fowler's office (did they really send this to Jeffrey?) but the dress returns, faster, and this time, in duplications. It pops over his screen in relentless batches. Soon other pictures filled in. Pictures of Kara. Kara sitting on the couch. Kara standing by the door. Kara holding the dress. Kara. Kara. Kara.

The video ends. Just in time for Hank to hear a computer shutting down and a chair wheeling back.

"You can have my seat ma'am! My computer isn't working. Does anyone have a clipboard and pen that I can borrow?!"

"Oh why thank you! And oh young man! You can use my tablet if you'd like!"

"I require specific materials."

It was unnatural and it was hilarious but he wasn't going to say anything. Not yet. Not when his face looked like fruit punch. Lunch break couldn't come soon enough.

x - x

Shit he couldn't wait for lunch to be over.

"Look will you stop glaring like that."

"I'm not glaring."

"You want me to take a picture of your face and show you?"

"...No."

"Then stop it. What the hell are you even mad about anyway?"

"I'm not mad, Hank."

"Right."

"…Enjoy your meal."

"Hah."

The chicken feed used to be a time of separate peace for Hank and Connor. It was a time for Hank to eat and for Connor to reflect, ask him questions or share an idea about anything on his mind. Today it would be very different. It would be their first break in total silence. At first it seemed that way but just then, the android cop speaks up.

"She's young."

Hank looks up from his last bite. He doesn't register

"Yeah?" He picks away at his container and reaches for a fry. "The reception lady at the desk? The ticket holder in the lot?The woman on the line back there? Who's young Connor?" He tosses the fry at him.

Connor doesn't flinch as it hits his shoulder. "She's young." He repeats.

Hank sighs. "Look you really, you really think I'm m trying to do that?"

"…I did my research. It's not just any dress Hank."

"Oh fuck you… you looked it up? I mean of course you did. Along with the several hundred photos of her face in your god damn head I shouldn't be fuckin' surprised."

His cheeks turn berry blue. "C-Can I get to my point?"

"Get to your pointless point Connor."

"The dress isn't what you think it is. It's made of satin and sheer fabric. It's not meant to be worn outdoors."

Hank sighs. "Yes idiot I know it's sleepwear. It's so she doesn't sleep in her damn work clothes every night."

"…Sleepwear."

"Yeah."

Connor just looked at him. Slowly his brows unknot. Slowly, he looks away from Hank and down at his hands.

"…Why do they call them intimates then?"

Hank coughs and stands from the table. "Well….Look. Again. It's not what you think. Now c'mon. We're running late."

Connor shakes his head as he follows. "You're a strange man lieutenant."

"So are you. Oh and by the way. I told her the dress was your idea."