A/N: This little one shot popped into my head and had to be typed out :) This is set in the same 'verse as my Wip Forget a Rollercoaster, This is a Trainwreck, though about six months earlier, when Hank and Connor are really just getting into the rhythm of what life is like after the Android Revolution and realizing they have a family. Hope you like it! Comments feed my soul.

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Connor smiled softly as he let himself in the door, in anticipation of Sumo greeting him, but still walking quietly so as not to wake up Hank.

Hank...who was sitting in his chair in the living room, and flipped on the light as Connor noticed him. "It is three in the morning. You said you were going to be home at 11. Your phone is in your damn goofy looking head. So why haven't you been answering my fucking calls?" Hank wasn't yelling. He was instead speaking in that tone that implied he was hanging on to his patience with a force of will, and which was much, much scarier than yelling.

Connor had only heard that tone from him twice before since deviating. Neither time had ended well.

"The party was an android's version of technology free-we all shut off our access to the internet and only shared music or videos already stored in our databases." Giving a weak smile when Hank appeared not at all moved by this, he added, "My video of Sumo flying across the yard and knocking our snowman in half with his exuberance was a hit...I must have forgotten to turn my connection back on when I left."

"Connor…" Hank was massaging his forehead and Connor fidgeted from foot to foot nervously. It was obvious now that he'd worried the lieutenant, and he hated upsetting the human more than anything. "I'm glad you had fun with your friends, and I'm not even trying to say you can't stay out until three in the morning. You're a grown-up, outside of you being sick or there being a blizzard outside or something, that shit is up to you. But you said you were gonna be home at eleven and it's three in the goddamned morning, bud. You scared the shit out of me, I was sitting here thinking anything could've happened to you. And then you forgetting to turn your connection on when you left-there are still anti-android bastards out there, and red ice junkies and all kinds of shit your not being able to call for help could make even more dangerous."

"I'm sorry, Hank." Connor stared at his feet, his led swirling between yellow and red, "you are correct in your estimation of my foolishness. I apologize for not contacting you when I realized how late the hour had drawn...I, well, I assumed you had gone to sleep and didn't want to disturb you."

That was the wrong thing to say. Hank stood up, surprising Sumo who'd been asleep by his chair into whining at the volatile movement, and pointed at him. "If you're four hours late, you assume that I am 100% awake and waiting for you, every time, got it?" Connor got it, and nodded vigorously. Hank's words caused a very strange mixture of emotions in him, guilt over worrying him, shame at the way he was being scolded, and yet warm and cherished that the man had not only waited up for him, but without a pause had ascertained that he would continue to do so whenever necessary.

Marcus, after viewing a video of Hank and Connor making the aforementioned snowman, had referred to Hank as his father. Connor hadn't wanted to correct him, hadn't wanted to say that Marcus was wrong...because he wanted it to be true. Many of Hank's actions towards him matched those of fathers to young adult sons in popular culture, and he even called him son, sometimes...

"Fuck," the man muttered the word quietly as he used the hand he'd been pointing at Connor with to scrub a hand over his face. "Look, Con, we both need to sleep-yeah, you go into rest mode, I know. You promise not to pull this shit again, I'll let it go." That sounded ideal to Connor, and he shuffled forward, finally feeling slightly less as though he were in dire disgrace.

"I promise. I truly di-"

"Yeah, yeah, kid, I get it," Hank stretched and took a step forward, reaching out an arm and tugging Connor forward into a tight hug, "I'm just glad you're okay." As often happened, Connor found it taking him a moment to respond, still unused to hugs even as he found that the amount Hank gave him per week was slowly, but steadily rising-at a rate of 3-5 percent to be precise. Then he melted, returning the hug as relief had him slumping against his friend. "Alright, alright," Hank said eventually, pulling back and clearly not wanting any attention drawn to the huskiness in his voice, "bed, go." He gave a slight push to Connor to get him moving, then followed after him towards the hall with a yawn.

Sumo trotted past them and sat himself down at Connor's door expectantly, causing Hank to mutter 'traitor' teasingly. Pausing before he opened the door, the android turned to Hank and gave a slightly sheepish smile, "Ordinarily I would say good night, but in this case I feel as though good morning is more appropriate."

Hank snorted and shook his head at him, "Yeah, smartass, I guess it is. Good morning, Connor."

"Good morning, Hank."

And if he did not say the word 'father' out loud, perhaps to him that was simply what Hank meant.