Chapter Twenty-Three

Hopefully this is fixed. I think FF was having trouble or something.

CW: NSFW ahead! Some light smut—I don't usually go into a lot of detail because I'm shy, lol.

Connor's thirium pump quivered, and his internal wiring seemed frazzled. His hands clenched the steering wheel a little too tight.

Free.

Wren could be free. Free from Prometheus's ears and eyes. Free to speak her mind, free to actually be herself.

Wren had not uttered a word the whole drive to Hank's. Instead, she stared out the window, unmoving. Did she want to be free?

Of course she did. Why would she have fought to get this far?

So why did she seem so distant?

Connor shook his head at himself. Before his deviancy, the increases of his software instability always sent a shock through him. When he considered himself compromised, and knew he was well on his way to deviancy, Connor experienced—back then he had not known it—anxiety. And when he was faced with those red walls—that he tore through, not once, not twice, but three times—part of him hesitated. There was a certain comfort in being a machine. CyberLife's control of him meant his path was certain. Following his programming, obeying their rules, meant that he knew exactly what his purpose was. Deviancy meant the unknown.

Freedom from Prometheus—even as small as getting rid of a listening device that invaded Wren's privacy—probably felt similarly to Wren. She had lived so much of her life as their machine. She was essentially preparing to deviate all over again but in a more extreme way. She was directly defying someone who had the power to destroy a lot of lives. And Connor knew Wren intimately—doing this meant putting lives in danger, and she did have a hero complex—so of course she was anxious about being free.

He reached over to her and placed a hand on her knee. She jumped, jerked out of her reverie.

"If you had an LED, it'd be red right now."

Wren grimaced. "Is it that obvious?"

"Probably to me, since I know you well."

Wren offered Connor a small, sad smile. "I'm sorry."

"Why are you apologizing?"

"I don't really know."

Connor's mouth quirked into a half-smile. "Do you want to talk about it?"

Wren pulled her knees to her chest. "I don't want to hurt your feelings."

"You're feeling guilty about being free, aren't you?"

Wren scowled. "How did you—"

"I know you, remember?"

"Well, yeah. They're listening now, probably." Wren eyed Connor, who dipped his head. Anything regarding their plans needed to be communicated through interface, still.

Connor parked in Hank's driveway. Three other vehicles were parked along the street—Gavin's bike, Tina's car, and Chris's. Inside Hank's living room, the team sat around, wearing parallel faces of concern and stress. Connor shut and locked the door while Sumo trotted up to Wren, wagging his tail. Wren squatted and scratched behind Sumo's ears.

"I take it that none of you have good news," Connor surmised.

Hank leaned against the threshold to the kitchen and folded his arms. "Whoever's doin' this is good at not leaving behind evidence."

"All we can really say for sure is that there are definitely multiple perps," said Gavin, running his hand along Sumo's back, who rounded the room, stopping by each person for a pet.

"And they're strong as fuck because holy shit," Tina shook her head. "That crime scene was something else."

Connor frowned and took the tablet from Chris, swiping through the photos. To hang the bodies from the statue, the perpetrators needed to be strong, yes. There would at least need to be ten physically fit humans to accomplish this. "No fingerprints?"

Chris took the tablet back. "Nada."

"We are so fucked!" Gavin groaned. "We're still no closer to solving this case."

"Cases go cold all the time," said Tina.

"Not while the killer's still active, though," said Chris. "I can't afford to lose this job because of some psychotic, smart, serial killers."

"Jeffrey's not gonna fire any of us. Worst comes to worst, we'll lose the case to the feds. It sucks, but it happens. We just cracked down on an underground crime syndicate that had its hands in every fuckin' dirty cookie jar in the country. Give yourselves some credit," Hank said.

Tina nodded. "Yeah, you know what? Fuck this. We deserve a night off."

"Is that the best idea?" Connor queried.

"I agree with Tina," said Wren, slipping her hands into her back pockets, "we've been undercover for months, working on this case. We didn't get the killers, but we took down others. I want a night where I don't have to give a shit about anything. I want to feel like me again."

"Well said, kid," said Hank.

"Let's go out," said Tina. "We'll invite the others. We need this."

"Fuck yeah, we do," said Gavin.

Connor scrunched his brow. "Is it wise, Wren? You have surgery tomorrow."

"Surgery?" Chris straightened in his seat.

"I'm getting the listening device removed tomorrow afternoon. If Prometheus knows everything, then it's time to stop playing their game by their rules."

Tina grinned. "Hell, yes!"

"Well, they probably know you're planning to do that, so you shouldn't go back to that apartment."

"She shouldn't go back to that apartment ever again," Connor glowered. "She should stay with us."

"I shouldn't stay in the same place too long," said Wren. "They'll come after me, and we need to be ready."

"Yeah, well they won't get you," said Gavin.

"Be prepared for a buddy system like no other," agreed Chris.

"So, are we still going out or what?" Tina bounced in her chair.

"Fuck it, why not?" Hank shrugged.

Tina sauntered over to Wren and Connor. "Wren, come on. All your clothes are back at our place. Don't worry, Connor. She'll be very safe with Chloe and me."

Tina grabbed Wren by the shoulders and steered her toward the front door. Connor smiled, though his thirium pump jumped a little. If anyone would be the best at protecting Wren, it was himself. Well, probably Wren since she understood Prometheus's tactics a bit better, but then it would be him. Not that he didn't trust Tina or Chloe, but he doubted they would be very effective in a fight against cyborg trained assassins.

Wren smiled apologetically at Connor. She mouthed a quick I'll be fine before Tina steered her out the door.

"Wait, she didn't even say where we were meeting—oh, never mind, she just texted." Chris grinned and shook his head. "Well, I'm gonna go see if the missus would like to join."

Gavin followed Chris out the door without a goodbye. Hank sighed and shook his head.

"I'm getting too old to keep up with all of you."

Almost an hour later, Connor sat in jeans and a flannel at rustic bar. Indie and alternative music played over the speaker. Hank had picked out a table in the outside seating area. The night air whispered through the patio, cool with a hint of autumn. Chris and his wife Skye arrived first.

"Hey, Skye," Hank greeted, hugging her gently. He smiled and bought Chris and Skye beers. Skye's engagement ring caught the light as she wrapped her hands around the neck of the bottle. Connor tilted his head.

With a quick scan, he estimated that the ring cost about two thousand dollars. It was certainly a beautiful ring, but Connor wasn't quite sure why humans purchased rings for one another. He knew, legally, the concept of marriage and its appeals—but he still had not wrapped his processor around why people wanted to get married and saw it as such a milestone in their lives. Although, the idea of being legally tied to Wren so that the whole world knew certainly had its appeal…

"You okay, man?" Chris queried.

Connor nodded. "Sorry. I was… lost in thought."

"It's okay," said Chris. He put his arm around Skye, who smiled nervously at Connor.

"I hope everyone's being nice to you at the DPD," she said. With a small elbow to Chris's ribs, she added, "I told him to make sure he was nice to you when you got hired back on."

Connor's interactions with Skye were admittedly few, but he already felt a warmth for her. "Chris has always been friendly, even before the Liberation."

"Good. I'd hate to have to hurt anyone," Skye grinned and kissed Chris's cheek.

Connor doubted that Skye could do any damage to anyone, but he refrained from commenting. Gavin arrived next and greeted Skye in a way that seemed so unlike Gavin that Connor did a doubletake. Gavin held his arms wide and grinned as he bent down to kiss Skye's cheek.

"It's good to see you, Skye!"

"You too, Gavin," Skye grinned. "Damian misses you."

"I miss the little guy, too. Next time you guys need a date night, I'm ready to babysit. You know I don't have anything to fuckin' do."

"Man, you better not be using that kind of language around my son," Chris shook his head.

Gavin feigned looking offended. "I'll have you know that I am a professional—"

Hank snorted. "Yeah, you're real fuckin' professional."

"You're one to talk, old man."

Connor smiled softly and shook his head. Markus, North, and Josh stood in the doorway, looking around the bar. North seemed to be trying to get Markus to dance, but he shook his head shyly. Josh patted North's shoulder and said something to her. She seemed to give in, if reluctantly. Connor stood to greet them.

"Connor, how are you?" Markus patted Connor's back.

"I'm doing well, thank you," said Connor. Well, maybe not well. Better than he had been lately. Things finally seemed to be looking up, and in between all the dark and stormy clouds that had been dumping rain and lightning upon Connor and his friends the past several months, was a silver horizon. "How's Jericho?"

"Er, good," said Markus.

"That's a lie," North muttered, crossing her arms. "With this serial killer, we're backlogged on progressing advocacy for android-human relationships."

Connor's shoulders slumped, and the image of getting an apartment with Wren fizzled away. "Oh. I'm sorry."

North offered Connor an apologetic twitch of her lips. "No, I am. Tonight's supposed to be chill. I'll try not to be too hotheaded." She shot a glare at Josh, but he rolled his eyes with an exasperated grin. Connor led them to the table. Connor shot his gaze toward the doorway every few seconds, waiting for Wren to walk in.

Tina and Chloe entered first, holding hands and dressed completely opposite. Chloe wore a dress and curled her hair while Tina wore what she normally did—jeans, leather jacket, and a black top. She wore more makeup and styled her hair, though. Wren entered and Connor parted his lips.

A sweater dress and over-the-knee boots dried Connor's mouth. Grinning as North, Josh, and Markus jumped up to greet her, Wren looked happy, and it looked beautiful on her. The three androids wrapped Wren in a tight hug. North sat Wren beside Connor and then sat across from them.

"I've been expanding the branch of Jericho that deals with battered androids, and have been running a sort of rehab for former Traci models. I think I figured a way to get them jobs, by transforming it into a battered women's shelter for androids and humans!" North grinned.

"North, that's great," Wren praised. Her eyes danced. "You know, I'm really proud of you. You've come so far."

North immediately rolled her eyes. "Yeah, yeah, yeah. Don't get all sentimental about it."

But her lips twitched with the faintest of smiles.

The humans ordered drinks and appetizers—which Tina insisted was the main reason she picked this bar—and soon, chatter drowned out the music playing over the speakers. After a while, it became pretty clear that none of the humans would be able to drive themselves home. Connor found himself almost in sensory overload with the amount of conversations he partook in.

"Hey Connor, can you do a backflip?" Chris queried loudly.

Connor tilted his head. "Yes?"

"Bullshit!" Gavin slurred. "S'no way."

"Oh, I can!" Wren got up, but swayed. Connor caught her and settled her back in her seat. Wren giggled. "On second thought, maybe I should wait until the room stops spinning."

"Good idea," Connor agreed. A soft song played on the speakers. It echoed grungily throughout the mostly empty bar—not surprising on a Tuesday night—and a chill rippled down Connor's spine. His synthskin pimpled with goosebumps.

I am not the only traveler,

Who has not repaid his debt.

I've been searchin' for a trail to follow, again,

Take me back to the night we met…

Wren jumped from her seat and gripped Connor's hand. "Oh, I love this song!"

She pulled him close to her, slamming her body clumsily into his. Connor's lips twitched and his thirium pump seemed to expand with warmth in his chest as he held Wren's hand gently in his. He placed the other on Wren's waist and swayed to the beat with her.

"You remembered what I taught you!" Wren grinned, tilting her head back. Her hair was now long enough to tickle the back of Connor's hand.

"Of course I remembered. I have the memory of a computer."

Wren frowned. "An elephant."

"What?"

"That's the saying: to have a memory like an elephant."

"I know, but that doesn't make any sense. Computers are far more efficient."

Wren snorted and rested her head on Connor's chest. "I've missed this."

Connor smiled and pressed his cheek against Wren's head. "Me too."

The song faded, and a more fast-paced one brightened the speakers.

Tina stood up and pumped her fists in the air. "Let's dance!"

North, Tina, and Chloe joined Connor and Wren. After some convincing, Skye and Chris hurried over. Before Connor knew it, Hank, Gavin, Markus, and Josh were dancing, too. Well, dancing was a strong word for it. For the most part, they were jumping up and down and singing lyrics. Wren held Connor's hand, jumping up and down with the biggest smile on her face. Connor jumped with her, forgetting he looked ridiculous—he'd do anything to keep that smile on Wren's face. At some point, Hank twirled Wren around, chuckling at her overexaggerated spin.

Connor paused, his eyes lingering on each smile in the room. Tina smiled and pressed her lips to Chloe's. North laughed at the surprised look on Chloe's face, Josh elbowed Markus as Wren tried to get him to dance with her while Markus grinned and shook his head. Gavin, Chris, and Skye laughed as Hank moonwalked (very poorly). Connor's chest wanted to burst. Before deviancy, he had a number and an uncanny dedication to CyberLife. Now, with Wren and Hank, he had a family.

Wren danced back to Connor. She threw her arms around his neck. With a smile, Connor wrapped his arms around her and spun her. Setting her back down, he kissed her. The world melted away for a moment; all that mattered was Wren and the taste of her lips. A bit like honeyed whiskey, and her lips were rougher than his.

Connor pulled away first, since Wren needed to breathe, and held her gaze for several heartbeats. She cracked first, a soft smile curving her mouth and sparkled in her eyes.

"Damn, Chris, why don't you kiss me like that anymore?" said Skye.

"I got a bad back."

Hank and Gavin burst out laughing, and Connor's cheeks burned. But Wren didn't seem to mind. Instead, she hugged him tighter.

"I love you."

"I love you, too."

Back home, Hank immediately went to bed. Wren hugged herself as she checked the locks to the windows. Connor slipped his hands into his pockets. Tension pulled Wren's shoulders, and her teeth nibbled her lip every so often.

"Do you mind if I borrow your shower?" Wren asked as she checked the second living room window.

"Of course," Connor said, tilting his head. "I'll check the windows, sweetheart. You go ahead."

Wren rubbed the back of her neck. "I'm sorry."

"You don't have to apologize. I know you're scared." Connor kissed Wren's forehead.

"Tina gave me this stuff that's supposed to help hair dye wash out. I'm ready to get Nicolette completely off me."

"I understand." Connor tucked some of the blonde behind Wren's ear. "While you do look beautiful no matter what hair color you have, I miss the red."

"I forgot to pack some clothes, so I might have to borrow some of yours, too."

Connor suppressed a shiver. The sight of Wren in his clothes—the sleeves a bit too long, the pants sitting low on her hips, the way the collar usually hung off her shoulder—it caused a lump to form in his throat. He kissed Wren's temple and swept past her to check the window locks and cleared his throat.

"Of course. Towels are in the cabinet under the sink."

"Okay." Wren padded out of the room.

Connor circled the house, checking all of the locks on the windows and doors—even in Hank's room—before slipping back into his own. He shut the door with a gentle click. The bathroom connected to his room only had a toilet, sink, and shower, as opposed to the one in the hall, which boasted a tub.

"Connor?" Wren called softly from the bathroom.

He entered the steaming bathroom. "Did you forget a—"

No, Wren hadn't forgotten a towel, for one sat crumpled on the floor outside of the shower. Wren peeked out from behind the curtain. "Wanna join me?"

Wren's question sent a hot jolt through Connor's body—one that lingered in below the belt. Despite his arousal, though, Connor would be a gentleman. He'd let Wren lead the way and would not overstep any of her boundaries, no matter how hard—Wren would've appreciated that pun—things got.

Connor unbuttoned his flannel and stripped it off.

Wren had ducked back inside the shower. "Only if you want, of course."

Connor answered her by dropping his belt to the floor with a clang. Once naked, Connor paused before stepping into the shower. Would Wren be disturbed by his… situation?

"Connor?"

Connor stepped inside the shower, and would've stopped breathing if he needed to. Fuck, his processor's playback of Wren's body didn't even compare to the real thing. White scars left comets on her skin. There were some thicker and nastier ones that twisted Connor's biocomponents, and he wanted to press gentle kisses to them and beg Wren's forgiveness for not being there. It was silly, since she received most of her scars before they even met, but when Wren turned, Connor faced the one that always felt like a punch straight to his thirium pump regulator.

The one where the bullet ripped through Wren's body instead of his, the one that puckered and said, "Hey, you were there for this one, but it didn't matter and you almost fucking lost her, and you were too much of a coward then to say you loved her, and she could've died without ever knowing—"

"Connor, are you okay?" Wren lifted a brow, her arms covering her breasts.

Connor jerked himself out of his thoughts. "I'm fine."

But Wren, rA9 bless her, knew him too well. She'd followed his gaze and touched her scar. "Are you ever going to stop feeling guilty about it?"

"Probably not," Connor admitted, avoiding Wren's gaze. Her hands grabbed his, and she pulled him close to her. His body pressed against her wet skin.

"Well, how do you think I feel about you getting shot for me? There aren't any scars, but I know you did," Wren weaved her arms around Connor's neck.

"Similar to how I feel," Connor muttered. "I don't mean to; I just have a very vivid memory."

Wren ran her fingers down the back of Connor's neck, sending chills down his spine. "I know. I can't imagine. I'm kind of glad I was knocked out when you got shot, and I was pretty out of it after we got out of Montgomery's place last year."

Connor's lips twitched. "It doesn't help that every time I see you naked, my processor breaks a little."

"Why?"

"You're beautiful."

"That was cheesy." But Wren's smile warmed Connor's metal heart.

"It looks like the blonde is beginning to wash out some." He brushed his fingers along Wren's hairline. Her eyes fluttered shut.

"Good." She opened her eyes and Connor let his hands drift her waist. The hot water streamed down both their bodies. Wren's head tilted upward, and Connor met her mouth with his. His hands itched to roam over her body, and he throbbed with want.

He broke off the kiss, leaving Wren panting a bit. "May I?"

Wren answered with a deeper kiss, pressing her hips closer to his. Connor slid his fingers over Wren's thigh and in between her legs. She gasped at his touch, and her lips dragged down his, and her grip around his neck tightened. Her head tilted back, letting water run down the pinkish strands. But Wren wasn't a selfish lover. She caught Connor's lips again, and it was his turn to gasp at her touch.

He had a harder time keeping quiet. "Ah—fuck, Wren." He thrust out his hands to catch himself, flattening them against the cold shower wall. But doing so distanced their bodies, so with one hand, Connor pulled Wren closer, pressing their chests together. Kissing under a shower stream was sloppy, but there was something about it that Connor liked. He didn't need to breathe, but whenever Wren ran her hand along him like that, he found himself panting heavily. But whenever he did, his sensors indicated that Wren's body reacted to his noises well.

Wren whimpered when Connor returned his fingers between her legs. Her grip on him slackened, but returned with strength in his hair. In moments like this, with Wren's lips parted in a nearly-silent moan, the need to express how much she meant to him flickered through his circuits. The whimper that escaped Wren's lips made Connor's processor stutter. Her nails dug into his back and her mouth bit onto his shoulder. In the places where she touched him, his synthskin rippled back, exposing the plastic underneath. Connor's biocomponents twisted. He hated this reminder that he wasn't entirely human, that he couldn't experience everything the way Wren could, that they would constantly face obstacles that neither of them could control—like aging and death and anti-android-human relationship laws—but Wren's eyes widened at the patches where his plastic gleamed in the water. Her thumb rubbed across his cheek.

"You're beautiful, Connor."

She'd told him this before. But here, naked in more ways than one, Connor finally felt the gravity of her words. Tears burned his eyes, and he closed his eyes. Words couldn't describe this feeling, so he tried to say it with a kiss. His mouth moved against hers desperately, hungry to be with her in every way that he could.

"I want you, Connor." Wren's voice came out slightly hoarse. Her eyes searched his. Connor ran his hands down Wren's sides and cupped her bottom. He lifted her and pressed her against the wall. She let out a small squeal. "It's cold, sorry!"

Connor smiled and kissed her deeply. Wren guided him toward her. When he entered her body, Connor couldn't stop the groan, or his synthskin peeling back from his crotch up to his artificial bellybutton. The edge, where synthskin met plastic, glowed blue, casting a pretty glow onto Wren's skin. They fell into a slow rhythm, one that matched the stillness of this moment.

«SSBsb3ZlIGhlciBtb3JlIHRoYW4gYW55dGhpbmc=»

When they both finished, Connor bowed his head in the crook of Wren's neck. The water was starting to run cold, but they waited in each other's arms for a few more moments. Wren's chest heaved as she caught her breath. Connor's synthskin returned in the places it had retreated.

"I love you, Wren," Connor murmured into her skin.

Wren cupped his face, guiding his face toward hers. She kissed him chastely and then held his gaze. "I love you, too. No matter what happens, I…" She stopped and swallowed. Connor furrowed his brow at the redness of Wren's eyes. "I want you to know that I love you, and I have always loved you, I never stopped, and I'm so sorry they made you think that I had, that I played along—"

"Wren," Connor pulled her into a hug, pressing his cheek to her head. "It's okay."

Wren clung to him. "I just… No matter what happens, never forget that, okay?"

A chill feathered through Connor's blue blood. "What do you think is going to happen?"

Wren shut off the water to avoid answering. Goosebumps exploded on her skin in the cold air. Connor grabbed her towel and wrapped it around her, but held her shoulders. He held her gaze, awaiting her answer. "Just in case…" She stopped and swallowed, leveling her eyes with Connor's naked chest instead of his eyes. "Prometheus wins, and—"

Connor cupped her face. "Don't say things like that. It sounds like you've given up, and you're saying goodbye."

Wren furrowed her brow. She placed a hand over Connor's. The synthetic skin of her hand peeled away, and Connor felt the vibration of her trying to connect with him. His skin rippled back, and the familiar jolt of their connection waved through his circuits.

I'm not giving up. I'm going to fight like hell to get the chance to hold you again. I promise.

Connor held Wren's gaze.

Me too.

And he would. Of that much, he was certain.

Sorry for such a long time between updates! I've been kind of in a Star Wars mood lately, and it's hard to shift gears between characters/fics sometimes.

I passed my thesis defense!

Hopefully I can use this quarantine to get back on a writing schedule.

Also, yes I got the line "I'm going to fight like hell to get the chance to hold you again" is Kaidan's line from Mass Effect. He says it a bit differently I think, but I was watching a playthrough and I was like that's Wren and Connor omg.

Anyway, I hope you guys enjoyed the fluff before we get into some more angst/action! Please leave some feedback, and stay safe, everybody!