The cherry blossom loomed overhead, enveloping the android below in its shadow. But there was no coldness in its embrace. Alternatively, he felt...safe somehow, as if it were offering comfort rather than passing judgement. It was a strange sensation, acceptance. A simulated breeze ran through the flowing branches, simultaneously tousling his synthetic hair. Lost in thought, he ran his fingers through the fibers, noting the soothing feeling it brought. He stopped. His subconscious was playing games with him again, and this was not the time or place to let those walls crumble. As if on cue, the sunlight faded and was replaced with steady rainfall. An umbrella materialized on the bench to his left. Picking it up, he set off to find his handler.
It didn't take long to find Amanda already waiting patiently for him across the bridge. "Connor, I've been expecting you. Would you mind a little walk?" There was something disdainful in her tone. He was not looking forward to this.
Forcing a smile, he nodded, opening the umbrella and holding it over the two of them as they advanced down the path.
"That deviant seemed to be an intriguing case." She paused, casting the android a sidelong glance. "It's a pity you didn't manage to capture it."
Gaze fixed ahead, he swallowed. So it was beyond repair then.
"It's corrupted memory file is of no use to us. Would you care to explain why you neutralized your target by impacting such a vital component?"
He thought for a moment, compiling his response.
"A human life was in danger, and a detective no less. My programming prioritizes human lives over a machine's, does it not?" He paused. "Likewise, the train tracks were uneven and threw off my stabilizers. I missed my target. I agree I should have been more effective." A half-truth. He was designed with near flawless compensation features, thus his balance very rarely faltered. The train being no exception. The excuse tasted bitter on his tongue, she wouldn't buy it.
Amanda hummed, eyes narrowing and she returned her sights forward.
"Was she wounded?"
How did she know you were the victim in question? His mind drifted, conjuring an image of the blood glossing your leather jacket, the puncture clean through the material, and your shoulder. He beraded himself once more for being so careless.
"Yes. But y/n's system is repairing itself quickly with the aid of nanotechnology."
The woman glanced up at him curiously."Nanites? She must have sustained considerable damage for medical professionals to resort to such controversial methods."
"She...didn't check into a hospital. She insisted on self treating." You had mentioned how the IMF discouraged checking in to public facilities for fear of DNA circulation. The less of you out there, the better.
"Interesting. Now where would she have come across such advanced technology for at-home use I wonder?"
Connor's chest tightened. He'd said too much. Grasping for an explanation she'd likely dismiss anyhow, he willed his composure to remain.
"The LAPD has its own practices. It's possible their funding allowed for trials on their field personnel."
Amanda halted, only adding to his angst.
"We both know something isn't adding up with detective y/l/n. I asked you to monitor her and report your findings. I'm afraid you've been rather negligent Connor, on both fronts."
What did that mean? Would she replace him? He straightened, feigning a determined bearing.
"I am confident that I will solve this investigation, Amanda. I just need more time. I won't disappoint you."
"Time is something we don't have an abundance of. Put an end to this deviant mess, and ensure detective y/l/n remains focused on our cause. Or I will be forced to replace you."
The next moment, his eyes opened to focus on the space around him, finding himself back amongst the dimly lit DPD Android recess pods. As he came to, recalling Amanda's words stung him. She would most definitely replace him if he failed to improve his performance on this case. A flurry of information whirled violently through his mind, a sudden desperation overtaking him. He HAD to close this case, no longer just for the sake of CyberLife, but for himself. Try as he may to deny it. To quell his mental frenzy, he found himself seeking company, another mind to distract his own. He called up Hank's phone.
"Who thfuck issthis?" His speech was heavily slurred, a clear sign of intoxication. The murmur of unintelligible conversations hummed in the background. Jimmy's bar.
"It's Connor, Lieutenant, I was just wondering if you-"
"Wha timeissit...ahh fuckin' christ. Whathe hell is thiss!?"
Connor paused, rethinking his approach.
"It's nothing Hank, have a good night." The connection cut out.
Searching his database for other possible candidates, he came to realize the only other feasible option was you. He sighed. The conversation about his...serious miscalculation the other night still had yet to take place. Although tonight didn't seem like the best time given his predicament. This would be strictly a social call. Another search through his database revealed no phone number connected to you, a search through the DPD's files also proving useless. Your address was stored in his memory banks after the night he and Hank had dropped you off however. It was settled. He would show up, knock on your door, and if you refused him, that would be that. Simple. Gathering his courage, he called a taxi.
These impulsive notions were going to land him in a lot of trouble one day...
-o-
Settling into the couch, you spread the documents out across the coffee table before you. You huffed. These partial blueprints of the CyberLife Tower were getting you nowhere fast. The thing was basically a fortress, round the clock security on patrol at every entry point, no accessible ventilation, ten times reinforced outer shell. And waltzing in the front door and shooting the place up wasn't exactly an option. You eyed the disposable cell phone on the table. Your contact with the IMF was to be strictly limited for fear of an intercepted transmission by CyberLife and their affiliates. But you were running out of time, and still had very little to go off of. Furthermore, there was the newly added issue of your lack of transportation…
The line buzzed.
"Yes?" The confused nasally Liverpool accent of your go-to all-things-tech-nerd colleague was unmistakable.
"Aiden? It's y/n."
"Y/n?!" His voice dropped to an emphatic whisper. "You can't just call in here whenever you bloody well like you know!"
You rolled your eyes. "Relax ya daisy, this isn't a social call. I'll make it quick." He made to object, but nothing more than a choked whimper came down the line when you cut him off.
"I have absolutely fuck all to go off of. Losing our man in security set me back 50 paces and I've gotten zero intell since. What the hell is going on?!" By the long pause, you could tell he was likely scouting for any potential evesdroppers.
"CyberLife got a whiff of a possible sellout - our unfortunate friend in security. So far as we know, they haven't been able to trace him back to the organization, but we know they've tightened up on security tenfold and we can't take that risk. We've had no word from our other informants, so we're no better off than you are."
You groaned, rubbing your temple. "So I'm flying blind then."
"Seems that way, for the time being anyhow." The sound of a laptop's keys tapping came down the line. "It looks like you've been shot? Are you alright?"
Your chest swelled, a heavy sigh racking your diaphragm. You rubbed the mark between your thumb and index finger on the back of your right hand. God you hated being monitored. "I'm fine. The mini bots are working on it."
"Ok...well, if there's nothing else-"
"Actually there is. I need a vehicle. Preferable something with a roof."
An audible groan. "What about the bike? Not quite up to your standards?"
You bit your bottom lip. "I...kind of left it on top of a train. Before it kind of fell off."
A pause. "...I don't want to know." More typing. "Dare I ask, do you have a preference?"
You smirked. "Oh you know me Aiden, nothing too flashy."
"Riiiight...I'll ping you the coordinates once I set something up within the next 12 hours. Ta."
Click
Replacing the phone back on the table, you returned to the documents. You were going to have to get up close and personal with the tower if you were going to get anywhere. The clock was ticking. As you read through one of the encrypted invoices, a knock at the door rattled your focus.
"Fucking hell…" Visitors weren't exactly a regular occurrence, least of all on missions. You grabbed the loaded glock from the kitchen island on your way to the door. Another knock. You peered through the door's eyelet. And there he was, the grandiose Android sent by CyberLife. At 10:30p.m. Leaving the chain in place, you opened the door a crack.
"Good evening y/n." He smiled awkwardly.
"Connor? This is a surprise."
He observed your lax state through the small opening; pajamas, slippers, and…a pistol hung casually at your side. "So it would seem. My apologies for the intrusion, but may I come in?"
"No" was the appropriate answer, but he DID save your life. You chewed your bottom lip, mulling over your options. The documents would have to go. "Give me a sec." You shut the door in his face.
Connor waited patiently for your return, turning the coin over his knuckles. A minute passed and the door reopened, fully this time. "Come in." You stepped aside for the android to enter.
He replaced the coin in his pocket with another small smile, stepping into the unit. "I hope I'm not intruding on your evening plans. Of course I would have called but there doesn't seem to be a phone number in your files." More snooping.
"No, not really. Was just planning on vegging out with Netflix and a glass of wine." Definitely not trying to figure out how to break into the CyberLife Tower. You plopped back down on the couch, throwing one arm over the back, motioning for him to join you with the other. "So...what brings you around at this time of night? A case come in?" God you hoped not. He tentatively sat next to you, ever so neatly maintaining a straight back, knees together and hands coming to rest on the top of his thighs. Taking in the settings around him, he shook his head.
"No I...I just needed to detach myself from the DPD for a while. I wasn't sure where else to go."
Your heart sank a little for him. His tone was monotonous, but you swore you picked up a hint of misery in the words. "Hank out at Jimmy's?" He nodded. You smirked then, casting him a playful glance. "Oh I see, so I was your second choice then huh?"
Of course he hadn't meant it that way, but you couldn't help the pleasure brought on from teasing the proper, analytical weren't disappointed when your statement was met with wide eyes, which quickly darted to take in a fascinating stain on the coffee table. "Not at all...I mean, yes, I did call Hank first. But only in the interest of not wanting to disturb you at this hour." He rubbed the top of his right thigh. Another strange tick. You chuckled.
"I'm teasing, chill out." Breaking the awkward silence that followed, your phone buzzed, a notification popping up on the screen. You sighed. "I'll be right back." Getting up, you grabbed the phone and took off towards the bedroom. Once you were out of sight, Connor stood, pausing to see if you would return. When you didn't, he took it upon himself to conduct a proper scan of the space. Nothing terribly out of the ordinary, barring a healthy collection of assorted firearms in the closet space across the room. It was to be expected, he surmised, given your field of work. It wasn't until his scanners picked up a pile of documents tossed haphazardly on top of the store that his suspicions were pricked. He couldn't see them with his own eyes of course, but his scanners managed to pick up a familiar coding on the documents. What were you doing with CyberLife records?
He ceased his inquiry when the bedroom door opened. You had changed into a tank top, clearly revealing the fading wound on your shoulder. Returning to the couch, Connor curiously observed the small razor-like device you had in-hand.
"This directs the nanites to the site using radio waves." You gestured to the device with a nod when you caught wind of his curiosity. He mouthed an "Ah." You demonstrated, holding your finger over the LED on it's side and the device whirred to life. You brought it to meet the site on your shoulder, it's pulse resonating deep into the muscle tissue. "I have to keep up with them every few hours until things are patched up enough. It's a bit of a drag, but I suppose there just not as smart as you guys." Conner felt his face flush slightly at the wink you cast him. Playing it off, he cleared his throat.
"I see. Do you require any assistance?"
"As a matter of fact, I could use a hand. My back is kinda stiff after riding on top of a bloody train and getting shot today, and I'm having trouble reaching the site back there. Would you mind?" Switching the device off, you offered it to him.
He hesitated, eyes meeting yours, searching for any sign of doubt. You settled his worry with a smile, and he took the device. Turning to face away from him, you moved your hair out of the way, sliding the tank top strap down to grant him easier access. It was only then that he realized what he'd brought upon himself. He swallowed as his gaze trailed down the length of your neck, across your shoulders and down your back. Your skin looked so soft and supple...then his sights were met with the inflamed ring of the bullet wound. Lust melted into concern, the guilt from earlier pulling at him once more.
He brought the device to rest over the site and you winced at the sudden cold contact of the metal. Instinctively, his free hand moved to rest against your upper back to quell the discomfort, his palm radiating a pleasant warmth on contact. The tender motion surprised you, but you made no move to pull away. It was a gentle comfort, something you weren't used to.
A few minutes went by while the device went to work, and Connor felt an itch thrum at the tips of his fingers. Testing the waters, he began running his thumb lightly over your skin beneath it. Your breath hitched. What was he doing?
He looked up, tilting his head slightly to monitor your reaction. Your eyes drifted shut, a barely noticeable sigh escaping you. Taking note of how you leaned back into his touch, he felt himself relinquish to an unseen force, delighting in your reactions. His thumb pressed more firmly into your skin, beginning slow rotations, coaxing out the stresses that plagued your sore back. The seemingly innocent motions and the minimal contact with your skin beneath his were enough to upset the balance within his systems. Unable to resist, his hand trailed further up your back, pausing at the nape of your neck to roll his thumb over the stiff muscles on the right, before slowly dipping his fingers to work on the left.
You really weren't sure what was happening, or how it had gotten to this point, but it felt incredible. You shuddered as the tips of his fingers brushed your collarbone while he worked, kneading the sensitive tissue with a tenderness that left you wanting more. Tentatively, you lowered your head, rolling it to the right to grant him easier access.
This was the last thing Connor expected. A familiar cord began to tighten in his stomach, the drum of his thirium pump accelerating at the sight of you giving yourself over to his touch. Internal cooling engaged, he focused on the task at hand rather than himself. It was his fault you were in this state after all, he was hardly deserving of any personal recompense.
You sighed again, sheer relief flowing through you under his thorough ministrations. The hum of his systems didn't go unnoticed however. You glanced back, not quite able to makeout his now trembling frame from such an angle.
"You alright?"
"Mhm." Eyes closed, he processed every sensation that passed through his fingertips, memorized every square inch of skin his palm stroked. "You?"
A partial hum left you in reply as he manipulated a particularly tense bundle of nerves. Whether intentional or accidental, you couldn't be sure. He continued like this for a while longer until the drone of the device died out, signalling the end of the session. Disappointment tugged at you as you felt the metal withdraw,and the soft clink as Connor place it on the table. His other hand had slid back to your your spine and remained there however. You felt his other hand return to you, ghosting up your shoulder blade and coming around to rest on your upper arm. A chill ran through you.
"My scans indicate that your posterior musculature is overly tense. This will only inhibit the healing process, regardless of the nanites." He paused. "I could run you a bath if you like, seeing as that helped the other night." You felt him shift behind you, the pressure of his hands waning.
"Wait…"
He looked back to you, anticipation growing. He would gladly run you a bath if you so desired, but he would much rather ease your symptoms by means of other methods. If you would have it.
"Could you...go back to doing what you were doing before?"
"Sorry?" Oh he knew what you wanted. But you would have to ask.
You huffed, not enjoying being pinned. "I haven't had a massage in...I don't even know how long actually. It felt...nice. If it's not too much trouble, would you mind continuing?" You virtually purred the words, applying your own test, and they fell on his audio processes like honey.
Returning to his original position behind you, he couldn't hold back a grin. "Very well, if you insist." You recognized his smug tone from the drug store the other night. But there was no way it was intentional...was it? Expert hands slid back to take their place on your shoulder blades, resuming their charge. You couldn't hold back a quiet groan as your muscles were now manipulated by two thumbs.
Connor adjusted himself so his leg closest to you rested bent at the knee in front of him on the cushion, allowing him to face you fully. This also allowed his now throbbing member, which he was adverse with to resist, some relief. He glided his hands over your skin, massaging as he went, lower and lower on your spine until he hit fabric. His brow knitted at the obstacle. But, not wanting to push his luck, he continued over the tanktop.
The lack of contact spoiled the experience for you however, and you moved yourself forward away from his touch. He was an android right? So things like human anatomy didn't mean anything...right? Throwing this finite fuel on the fire, you grasped the bottom of the shirt, pulling it over your head and tossing it to the ground. You didn't dare look behind you.
Had you done so, you would have been met with Connor's complete and utter shock, eyes as big as saucers at the sudden boldness from his partner. Dumbfounded, his hands took a moment to regain their momentum on your back, but he relished the lack of material between you and himself. Thumbs on either side of your spine, his fingers rotated outwards to brush your waist as he worked, gripping lightly every now and then. You had no idea how he felt, if he felt anything at all, but your excitement was certainly mounding. Doing your absolute best to mask the unsteady breaths leaving you at an increasing rate, you closed your eyes, drowning in the feeling of Connor working you.
He could feel his frame heating up beyond the recommended parameters as his hands smoothed over you, despite his attempts at cooling. As a last resort, he slacked his jaw, mouth hanging slightly open to allow extra moderation. He was quite literally panting, simply from touching you. Reaching the top of your tailbone, he paused. Your attempts to cloak your own accelerated breathing hadn't evaded his scans, along with your rapid heart beat. You were turned on. His cock throbbed at the realisation. He wanted nothing more than to remove the pants his thumbs now lined and shove himself inside you, right here, right now. He snaked his hands around to your hips, giving them a firm squeeze.
Your own mouth dropped open at the feeling, followed by an unsuccessfully stifled moan.
Oh shit.
That was all he needed. He leaned forward, his hands sliding back up to your shoulders, bringing his forehead to the nape of your neck, his nose trailing up your spine as he moved his lips to ghost your skin.
"Connor…?" It was barely a breath.
"Yes y/n?"
As he moved to taste your skin, he paused, pulling away slightly. Was something wrong? You turned your head to look back. All at once he released you, as if snapping out of some high, and stood, turning away from you in your topless state. He quickly adjusted himself to hide his almost painfully engorged member, as best he could anyway. "A case just came in."
Seriously? Right NOW? Flustered and thoroughly bothered, you scrambled for your top, tugging it back on. What the fuck just happened…
"I'm...sorry about your massage. I hope it was somewhat beneficial" Hearing you shift off the couch, he turned back to face you.
Fixing your somewhat disheveled hair, you straightened. "It's fine. That's...probably the best I've felt in a while if I'm being honest. So, thank you." He nodded curtly, still shaking his haze. "So, where are we going at this ungodly hour?"
He shifted in his spot, fiddling with the coin in his pocket.
"The Eden Club."
Ungodly indeed. Well, fuck me.
