"Good fuckin' God, Connor, are you kiddin' me?" Hank laughed, running a hand through his hair and sighing deeply. "No family I know has needed therapy more than these fuckin' people do. Any chance we can get a hold of em'?"

"Not at the moment; according to Mark's employment records, they just got on a four-week cruise in the Bahamas. Would you like me to access their contact information?"

"Do what you gotta do, Connor. We gotta talk to these people somehow, seeing as they're our only 'witnesses' right now," Hank finished, noncommittally shrugging his shoulders and leaning back into his desk chair.

Connor placed two fingers to his LED, which began to flash between yellow and blue as Connor's eyes rapidly blinked. Connor frowned as his LED returned to its normal blue, and his blinking pattern stabilized. "I'm afraid that they are both unreachable at the moment; neither of them would answer the phone." Connor shook his leg, his brow furrowed as he worried his bottom lip. "They might know something, and the fact that they're not answering their phones is quite suspicious, Lieutenant. We need to know more about their respective relationships with Jamie in order to progress this case," Connor sighed, his frustration making itself known.

"In the meantime, we'll have their house placed under surveillance. Make no mistake, Connor. Eventually, they have to come home, and we'll be waiting for them when they do," Hank assured him, getting up out of his chair to pace around his desk. "We could also contact the cruise management team to locate Mark and Mary; that way, they could set up an appointment to talk to us before they even get off the boat."

"On it," Connor's LED blinked yellow a few times before he was able to get ahold of the cruise management team. "Hello? Yes, this is Connor, the android currently working with the Detroit police department's homicide team." Connor paused, smiling a bit. "Yes, I'm the android from the news. No, I'm no longer affiliated with Cyberlife. Would you mind if I talked to your superior? I need information on two of the current passengers on the June Bahamas trip." Apart from shaking his leg, Connor sat still, awaiting the manager's arrival. "Yes, thank you for agreeing to speak with me; I appreciate your generosity, . Our current case concerns the recent murder of Jamie Lyndon, a 50 year old man, in his home. We feel that we'd have a better understanding of what might have happened if we could speak with Lyndon and Lyndon as soon as possible." Connor listened, leaning forward to rest his forearms on the desk. "Of course. Yes. Thank you for your time, . We'll be in touch."

"So?" Hank asked. "What'd he say? Were they there?"

"According to , they are both registered in their system as current passengers of the ship; he even confirmed having seen them walking around on the deck numerous times. Right now, they're out in Clarence Town, and completely unreachable until they actually get back on the ship. In other words, we have to wait either way."

"Well, Connor, it looks like we hit our limit on the case for today, and, depending on when the newlyweds to contact us, maybe for a while. I guess that's it for now," Hank shrugged, sitting back down in his chair to review other recent cases of post-deviancy androids murdering their employers.

One case ended with a missing AP400 slamming her employer's head on the corner of a table, another with a GJ500 snapping the neck of his boss. They had both been treated as isolated incidents, without any relation to each other. Each initial kill was efficient, and both androids seemed to have left the crime scene immediately afterwards; yet, neither of the victims were so...artfully arranged after their demise.

"Connor, I might have something here," Hank nodded at the files he had open on his terminal. "I know you've already seen these files, so you know what happened. Both victims were killed by androids they employed. Androids they trusted. It's more about what did happen with Jamie's murder, and what didn't happen with theirs."

"Please continue, Lieutenant. What do you mean?" Connor asked, walking around to Hank's desk and sitting on the corner.

"The other two victims were just...left there. No further interaction with the bodies after they were actually killed. Jamie, however, wasn't as lucky. The killers had a strong enough connection to Jamie to fuckin' come into the man's home and mutilate his body. Somebody really had it out for the guy," Hank shook his head, closing the files. "Considering we can't interview his ex-wife and brother right now, we should probably just head outta here in another hour or two. I still gotta take care of some paperwork. Feel free to do whatever," Hank said, opening a bunch of different files, identification documents, etc.

For the remainder of their time at the station, Connor roamed around and visited memorable spots of his first ever involvement with the DPD: the spot where Gavin punched him in his Thirium pump, the holding cell of Carlos Ortiz's deviant, the wall Hank had thrown him up against and threatened his life. After another half hour of walking around, Connor returned to his desk and went into stasis mode, closing his eyes and leaning back in his chair.

As luck had it, Gavin walked into the station, spotted Connor, and immediately made his way over. "The fuck are you doin' here, you plastic prick?" he addressed Connor, leaning on his desk (also, a little too close in general). "Last time I saw you, you were screwin' with all those androids. Crafty little shit."

Connor chose not to answer him, and opted to keep his eyes closed instead. He didn't really feel like dealing with Gavin's unnecessary hatred towards him, but knowing that he'd do whatever he needed to do to get rid of him.

"You ignorin' me?" Gavin got closer, placing a hand on Connor's shoulder. Connor tried his best to maintain his composure; deviance had graced him with emotional responses, but that didn't mean he could lash out whenever he wanted. There were still boundaries, and Gavin was just doing what he normally did: he was testing those limits, nudging him for some kind of response. Connor had already resolved to remain, within reason, as neutral as possible.

"I advise you to keep your hands off me, Gavin," Connor said, opening his eyes to stare directly into Gavin's seething expression. "After all, legislation regarding android civil rights is still in the works, so if I were you I wouldn't-"

"Listen here, you piece of shit. I don't give a shit about your little android 'rights' or whatever you think makes you even remotely on the same level as me," Gavin grabbed a handful of Connor's shirt, yanked him up, and slammed him against the wall, leaning in enough for Connor to catch a whiff of his coffee breath. "Don't think for a second that you can tell me what to do, you absolute fuckin' machine-" he brought his other hand around Connor's throat, squeezing so hard that the synthetic skin on his throat began to retract.

Hank shot up from his seat and had started to run around his desk when Connor grabbed hold of the edges of Gavin's jacket and headbutted him, sending him into the back of the chair, holding his head. Connor grabbed Gavin's shoulders and kneed him in the groin, then turned him around and forced him to his knees. Gavin kicked at Connor's foot, disrupting Connor's balance and giving Gavin an opening to straddle his chest, knees holding his arms down. Hank came over when he saw that Connor no longer had the upper hand, and kicked Gavin in the chest hard enough to make him roll over (and off of Connor). Hank helped Connor up with a hand on his arm, then moved to shield Connor.

"The fuck is your goddamn problem, Reed? What do you have against Connor?" he asked. For a second, Gavin looked as if he had the audacity to provide an answer, but Hank cut him off. "I don't fuckin' care what you believe, but since you still wanna act like a caveman, consider this a warning. Take some time to cool off, 'cause it looks like you assaulted my partner here, and if you don't want me to report your stupid ass, " he paused, nodding toward the entrance to the station, "I suggest you drag yourself outta here with the dignity you still have left."

Gavin continued to cough as he got up, stumbling out the double doors. "Fuck you both," he spat, storming out of the station.

"Well that was...something," Connor said, straightening his tie. He had decided to wear the one and only suit Cyberlife had given him; it was an ironically comforting touch of normalcy in a rapidly changing society. "I'm not really sure why he feels the urge to threaten me every time he sees me."

"He's just scared of you, Connor," Hank replied, slinging an arm around Connor's shoulder. "There's always gonna be people that are scared of change, those that'd rather attack or try to kill any manifestations of progress. You really kicked his ass back there," Hank smiled, patting his back, then putting his arm back by his own side. "God knows that asshole deserved it. And don't worry. Even though he left, that fucker won't get away with it."

"You know, you didn't have to step in back there. I could've taken him down on my own," Connor huffed, taking out a quarter and rolling it through his fingers, purposefully not looking at Hank. "I almost did."

"Connor, I've seen what you can do; you can take out groups of armed soldiers using your bare hands. Don't you think I know that?" Hank threw on his coat, grabbing his keys. "Maybe I wanted to step in because I saw that you, a friend, were in trouble."

"But..." Connor wanted to object, but chose to keep his mouth shut, secretly grateful for Hank having his back. Most people just assumed that androids were invincible simply because they weren't made of organic materials; according to Connor, Hank seemed to overlook that fact in favor of protecting him, regardless of the severity of the situation, the probability that either party will overcome the other...

Hank was a good man, and a good friend.

No, Connor thought. A great friend, and an even better man.

Hank glanced at Connor multiple times on the way home, and noticed he was smiling pretty much the entire time. Fuckin' androids, he thought, a fond smile gracing his own lips.