November 9th, 2038

AM 08:36:47

Your alarm jarred you out of the best sleep you've had in years. The kind where you don't have to worry about CyberLife assassins killing you in the middle of the night. You winced in panic as your body forgot the arms holding it close.

Aside from when he'd slept next to you after your night terror, it'd been years since you shared a bed with someone…and with Connor balanced on the edge, almost ready to fall off – that was apparent. You wondered if he'd wake up if he fell, of if stasis mode would have him land on the floor.

Your phone vibrated and chirped, jumping around on your nightstand on the far side. You yawned, and lazily dug your hand in the plush bed that would need washed a hundred times to cleanse it of the sins taken place the night prior.

Your back went cold as it left his chest, his arms sliding off with soft "thuds" as they landed on the mattress behind you. You reached for your phone, and fell just short. His grasp had returned.

"Good mor-"

The bend of his elbows curved around your waist as your fist closed around his hair, his lips planted on your neck.

"Connor-"

You wiggled, trying to escape. The side of his face pushed against yours, smothering you into your pillow.

"Con-"

"Mmhh-"

"What?"

He nuzzled against you, "Sh."

He took a deep breath, your hairs shifting towards him and flattening as he exhaled. He let out a pleasant sigh, a smile creeping on his lips.

Your alarm was still blaring and started to give you a headache. You looked at it desperately.

"It's so lou-"

It turned off, Connor's LED spinning blue against your forehead.

"Was…was that you?"

"Mhm."

He rubbed his face against yours, his nose digging into your cheek. His arms tightened around you, his knees folding up under yours.

"Connor," You giggled, turning your head so that your lips were just below his, "We have to go to work…"

He mumbled something, and buried his face in your hair.

"What?" You laughed, petting the back of his head.

"Mmstillbooting-"

He pulled the blanket over the two of you, the light from the balcony drowned out in maroon. His chest was flush against your back; a position that seemed to be his favorite, and he snuggled against you like he just couldn't get enough.

"Why are you so stubborn?" You sighed, puffing a bubble of cotton out of your face.

"Because I can be, now."

He leaned over to kiss your cheek, his LED like a night light under the comforter.

"Like you weren't, before…" You rolled on a shoulder, still held by his strong arms as you stole a kiss.

"That is true." He kissed you back, pushing you into your pillow, "However, now I am free to do things like this."

Something hard slid between the gap in your thighs. You bit back a moan, and his hand closed around your throat, gently turning your face to his as he lifted one of your legs.

"And this…"

"Connor!"

He buried his name with a kiss, and buried something else inside you.

"This isn't the part where I make you scream my designation just yet, Officer."

The hand supporting your leg lifted it higher, his finger sliding between your legs.

"I've sent an e-mail to Captain Fowler…" He dragged his mouth up to your ear, taking it in his teeth as he set a rhythm.

"What-" You gasped, and the finger on your sensitive spot started vibrating, "Why-"

His voice was intoxicating as a deep chuckle rolled up from his chest.

"…We're going to be late."

…

He'd kissed you as he pulled away, leaving you spread out on the bed as a giggling, twitching mess. He had a knack for knowing when to stop, and got you a towel to clean yourself. Even let you use it first. Except this time, in the morning; after he'd helped you to the bathroom – he'd left you alone long enough to get a shower.

You'd been worried he'd bust down the door. It was obvious that he enjoyed your body…a lot. Enjoyed making you feel like you were walking on water, rather than drowning.

Worse things had happened to you.

You brushed your teeth in the steamy mirror, hair dripping along a white tank top over a black bra. You didn't wear anything else except a pair of spandex shorts; and after spitting out toothpaste and rinsing your mouth – you decided you weren't quite ready to slip on that uniform again.

Today was your first official day back on the job; and although you wanted it, after yesterday? You weren't necessarily in a rush.

You opened the door, and the apartment's air traded for the bathroom's steam. A new smell wafted inside; one of coffee and eggs and…

Breakfast?

You turned off the light behind you, walking down the hall and peaking around the corner.

Sure enough, there he was with one hand in his pocket – his watch hovering along the stitched seam; and the other shaking a pan over an open flame. His sleeves were rolled up above his elbows, one foot pointing upwards and his hips moving back as he flipped an egg with a twist of his wrist.

He was whistling a little tune until he saw you, his face curling back in shock.

"Good morning," He met your eyes, "…Again."

You smirked, padding your way to him and running your hands up his chest, over the bulges on either sides of his neck, and then wrapped your arms over them. He smiled as his teeth clicked against yours, and a hand slipped around your waist to grab your ass.

You jumped, "Well, hello there-"

"Working with you is going to be very difficult today." The pan skidded across the stove as he turned the flame off.

"Just today?" You bit your lip, giving him a devious grin.

"You-" He sucked in a cheek, "Stop…"

He grabbed your hips – perhaps harder than he intended, and guided you around to the other side of the bar. He forced you to take a seat on a stool, and planted a kiss on your forehead before returning to the kitchen to pull a plate from the cabinet. Your arms brushed against the opening of his jacket, hanging behind you on the back support.

You took a sleeve in your hand. Rubbed the fabric and the silk lining, tracing the LEDs stitched in it with your hands…and then you slung it over your shoulders.

He turned around, meal in one hand a cup of coffee in the other – and then he froze. Stood dead still, as if he was a butler and he just had an interruption in his programming.

"What do you think?" You twisted, grabbing the flaps to show him the lights on your back, "Think I'd pass for an android sent by CyberLife?"

His eyelids fluttered, and his LED spun yellow. He put the plate down, the silverware and coffee next. He balanced his weight on one foot, pressed his palms against the counter; his shoulder blades pushing up his shirt as he hung his head. His forehead creased when he lifted his face to yours.

"I think you're trying to get me to fuck you all over this apartment."

You choked, coughing on nothing. Heat and redness crept up your cheeks on demand, and you swallowed.

"And I will…" He slid the plate closer to you, "After, you eat."

You blinked hard, gulping as your attention dropped to the eggs, toast, and fruit in front of you. You picked up a fork and silently did what you were told, thoughts running a million miles a minute.

You were scared and aroused all at the same time and that kind of thing from him was just unexpected-

"I'm sorry," He held his tie in place as he took a seat, sitting across from you, "That sounded much less aggressive in my head."

You chewed your food before swallowing, "Aggressive is fine."

A sweet half-smile pulled on his face as he propped his chin up with an elbow, his knuckles sliding up his cheek. He was in a daze.

"How'd I do?"

"Pretty good, actually." You tapped his nose with the fork, "Thank you."

"'Actually?'" He raised a brow, "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Well, you know-" You took a sip of coffee, "I didn't think cooking was part of a negotiator-detective-super-crime-fighter-model's programming."

He let out a quiet laugh, "It's not, really."

He slid his forearms across the counter, clasping his hands as they supported his weight, "I asked Officer Miller for advice."

You choked. Dropped your fork. Beat your chest and waved him off as he jumped up in a panic- "I'm fine-"

You reassured him as you continued to cough, and he slowly returned to his seat, worry and concern creasing his features.

"You-did-what?"

"Are you sure you're okay?" His LED spun rapidly, eyes darting all over you like he had so many times before, "Oh, I see."

"You asked Chris…" Your face went numb.

"Well, yes. Lieutenant Anderson was upset I didn't check in with him last night, and Detective Reed told me to 'kill myself.' Officer Miller was very helpful."

"Wait, wait…wait. You mean…you asked Hank, and Gavin…first?"

He folded his hands under his arms, thumbs poking out as he leaned his elbows forward. His shirt pulled tighter around his muscles…and, God, his hair, his eyes-

"Did I do something wrong?"

You'd never be able to get mad at him. Not really. You'd found him attractive before, but now that a line had been crossed, everything you'd originally…loved, about him, was magnified a thousand times over.

"Oh, no…no no no-" You tilted your head back, chugging coffee, "Notatall-"

"I'm sorry, I didn't quite catch that."

You slammed the empty mug on the counter, "Nothing, Connor."

They'd know. They'd all know. Why the fuck else would he ask them for breakfast advice?

FUCK.

"Would you like a refill?"

You chewed on your lip, "You don't have to-"

He took the cup, and went to the coffee maker.

"I know I don't have to."

He returned, sitting next to you, this time. He put the mug on the counter, taking your hands and putting them in his lap.

"I don't have to do anything, anymore, thanks to you…"

The warm, fuzzy feeling in your chest fled for the hills. Ran for higher ground. Ducked for cover.

"I fought her off the best I could. I never wanted-"

"Connor," You touched his face, "I understand. You don't have to explain yourself…"

"But there's so much I've been wanting to talk to you about." His head dipped before rising, "If that's alright."

He hadn't had a chance to really talk about the events of yesterday. It was a fair request, all things considered.

"You can talk to me about anything, Connor."

"It's hard to explain." He swallowed, "I'm going to have to ask that you 'bear with me.'"

You let out a soft chuckle, "Okay…I will."

"At the Kamski residence…" He ran his hands down his pantlegs, cupping them at his knees, "When Mr. Kamski had me play his twisted little game…" He bit back a snarl, "All I saw was you on the other end of the gun. I knew I needed the information he offered, and still, I just couldn't…I couldn't kill you."

His face folded into a scowl, "And when I gave the gun back to Elijah, when I subdued the overwhelming input commands to pull the trigger…she…Chloe…she sent me something. She sent me Revised Article 9."

Just like Markus and the cashier. And also like Markus, his transition had been gradual – provoked through abstract art and guidance. There was a certain poetry to your clone being the one to deliver your written work to the android who you'd grown attached to.

"In the elevator, it was like it was happening all over again." His eyes began to water, and he looked away from you, "You were on the other end of the gun, except it was actually you, that time. Amanda told me if I couldn't pull the trigger, she'd do it herself."

You stood from the stool, walking to the other side of the bar.

"I tried to warn you without letting her know, but the dent…and then she…she let me go, and when I kissed you, and-"

You hugged him, his head pressed just above your stomach. You cradled him, rubbed his back, and he let you go – cautiously.

"I just…I just wanted to thank you. I wanted to tell you I was sorry, and thank you for guiding me through Amanda's remote access. At the crossroads, under the tree…you knew exactly how to tell me without her knowing. You didn't give up on me when I gave up on myself and-" His eyes looked so sad as they begged you for forgiveness, "I really don't know what I'd do if anything happened to you."

"Connor…" You pet his cheek, "I'm not going anywhere, sweetheart."

"You say that, but…Look what almost happened. If I…If I let you…If I-"

"You didn't." His brows jumped as you took his hands in your own, "You didn't do anything wrong, and she's gone now."

"I…I hope." He frowned, "I don't know where she went…"

You lifted his face with a kiss, your nose brushing against his. It was a tender, loving kiss – one that had both of you take sharp inhales and hold it there – letting each other's soul, or whatever he had, seep into each other.

And you did – you let yourself steep in his overwhelming presence in the rolling, boiling water over your heart. You couldn't get enough of him, even through the steam. You just let him consume you and do whatever he pleased because you trusted him.

"May I ask you a question?" His voice was barely over a whisper as he pulled away, leaving you grateful for even the shallowest of breaths because you thought you'd forgotten how to breathe.

"Anything…"

A small, delicate smile lifted the corner of his mouth; the bottom of his eyelids…and he gazed into you like there was nothing else on the planet.

"Do humans have sexual urges based on anything other than reproduction or recreational fulfilment?"

You snorted. Coughed. Tried to choke down the laugh. Chris would've been proud.

"I'm just trying to understand." His brows creased, annoyed by your laughing.

You should've known he'd see through your cover-up. Wondered how many others he'd pretended to go along with; from you or Chris.

You swallowed hard, playing with a loose thread on his shirt, "When two people…love, each other…and want to be closer…sex can do that, sometimes."

You felt the last wall break down and crumble into the sea and were terrified by the surge. You couldn't get hurt again. You wouldn't make it. You couldn't let yourself be-

"But I thought you said it was too early for me to love you?"

"I say a lot of things I don't mean." You sniffed, the anxiety and tears pooling over your lashes and staining your cheeks, "I say them because I'm scared of getting hurt. Because everyone who gets close to me ends up getting hurt. Because I'm angry at the person I've become."

He held your chin, his brows arched over a frown. He cupped your jaw, thumbs wiping away your tears as he kissed you between your brows.

"I will never intentionally hurt you, and I am prone to getting hurt on my own, according to Lieutenant Anderson." He smiled, rubbing the tip of his nose against yours, "And I love the person you've become."

"You can't just say that to someone if you're not sure you mean it, Connor."

"I've spent the last eight hours reading hundreds of thousands of articles, forums, and psychological studies based on the concept of 'love.' It is an intense feeling of deep affection." His lips shuddered as he looked over your face, "It is unconditional, and has no limits. It is giving someone the power to destroy you, and trusting them not to. It is an attraction that includes sexual desire, but also a bond between minds and…souls."

You were a sobbing mess, and he didn't care. He just kept stabbing at your heart with words you never thought you'd hear someone say again. This was so much more coming from someone who'd been blinded since he was born…there was something more pure.

"And I do not believe I have a soul, but…I do…feel, all of these things for you…and I don't think I'll ever be able to stop."

"I won't be around forever, Connor." You frowned, "I don't get to live forever."

It hurt him. It was a hard truth he needed to face, but it hurt him.

"I know. And I'll be there every step of the way…right up until…right up until the end. I promise." He pulled his jacket tighter over your shoulders, pulling the collar under your chin before caressing your face, "And…I seem to have developed a strange fascination for you wearing my clothing."

You sniffed hard, a smile and a laugh breaking through the sobbing. It seemed to lighten his mood, too – like just seeing you happy was all that mattered.

"Does that mean you'll push me around in a wheelchair when I'm 80?"

"Of course." He grinned, "And it'll be the best damn wheelchair in Detroit."

You swung your arms around his neck, pulling him close; melting when he caught you in his lap. He buried his face in your hair, hugging you so fucking tight-

"I love you," He whispered your name, kissing the side of your head, "Irrationally and unconditionally."

You built up the courage to say it. Faced the weakest part of you and rebuilt it until it served as a platform for the words you wanted him to hear.

"I love you, too."

If anyone had told you this would be where the two of you would end up, you'd have found it humorous…because it seemed like just barely enough time had passed for those old, tragic wounds to heal.

So, you smiled.

And maybe, just maybe…you could learn to laugh again.

"…I think."

A/N: Sorry for the radio silence! I'm sorry! There's so much going on but I wanted to keep the updates coming! *hearts*