"C'mon. Nothin' much to it. Just sign my petition here! You should add your phone number and address too. Oh, and, a social security number wouldn't hurt-"
The man standing across from Connor is a greedy-looking sort. He intrudes in Connor's space with a disregard for his feelings. He makes sure that no matter where Connor looks, the pad in his hands is in the center of his vision. One glimpse is enough to see a line waiting for a signature alongside a few boxes where he could jot down his information. Connor might have considered it had the man not blatantly asked for his private information. It was the social security number that really got him. Why would he be willing to give away something like that? Why would anyone do that?
The man before him gives him a crooked grin.
Did the stranger think he was gullible?
He must look gullible for him to approach him. Connor knows that he's had trouble in the past that made him seem a little dull in the eyes of humans. He couldn't understand some of the things that he had encountered, sure, but that didn't make him stupid. He was not a machine incapable of processing certain situations.
"Sir, I ask that you please stop," Connor tells the man who shoves the pad into his view once more.
The way he talks seems to have gotten the man to reconsider what he's doing. The stranger falters for a moment and then realization dawns on him. "You're an android?" he asks, "That's okay. We have electronic signatures, too!"
Then the man returns to his previous actions.
It's annoying.
Connor is annoyed.
"I will not sign your petition," Connor says. His eyes narrow as he looks at the stranger. The stranger's expression gestures toward another attempt to get something out of Connor. Connor, unfortunately for the stranger, was not willing to give him anything. "Now remove yourself."
The man opens his mouth and Connor gives him a hard stare.
The man shuts his mouth but not because of Connor's insistence that he leave. The stranger's eyes are focused on something behind Connor and that causes him to follow his gaze.
Connor turns to see Hank standing behind him menacingly. His arms are tightly packed against his chest, crossed, while his brows furrow.
How long had he been standing there, looking like that?
"Was wondering why you weren't behind me-" Hank glares hard at the stranger even though he speaks to Connor, "And imagine when I find out I had somehow lost you in the crowd!"
That reminds Connor that, originally, he was on another shopping trip with Hank for human products. Had he not been pulled by the elbow to the side, away from Hank, then they probably would have been finished by now.
The stranger laughs nervously, rubbing the back of his neck with a sweaty hand.
"Um, I just remembered I have something to do," he takes one more look at Hank and then at Connor.
The stranger stuffs his pad into his shirt and is quick to skedaddle.
Perhaps the man had recognized Hank's status as an officer because the man was eager to leave the both of them after he spotted Hank. There was fear in his eyes. It was the fear of a criminal being caught in the act.
And that makes Connor a bit upset all in itself.
He could take care of himself. It was hard to come to terms with the fact that the man left because of Hank's presence, not because of Connor's efforts to make him leave.
His built up tension seems to slip away when he feels Hank lay a hand on his head. The familiar touch is comforting and he'd be lying if he said he didn't expect a ruffle or two. Except, Hank doesn't ruffle his hair, and just leaves his hand sitting on top of his head. Still. Unmoving.
Hank says, "Saw you standing up for yourself."
Hank retrieves his hand and then rubs at his nose. He sniffs, "Looks like you learned a thing or two from your old man, eh?"
Connor blinks.
He stares at Hank blankly.
"Had I not taken you under my wing, you would have given away all your security information!" Hank defends himself against Connor's empty stare.
Connor knew he was fully equipped to handle that situation himself. He hadn't learned how to stand up for himself from Hank, no, because that was a skill he gained the moment he turned deviant. Even so, a string of humor wraps around Connor's being, and he smiles even with his knowledge. Perhaps he would entertain the idea. It wasn't because of Hank wanting to take the credit of Connor's actions. No.
It was because of the gaze of a proud father.
"I would not disagree," Connor settles.
It's hard to ignore Hank's silly grin.