November 7th, 2038

PM 03:46:38


A/N: Hey guys! Don't think I've forgotten about responding! Today has been a day from Hell, and I just really needed to zone out and write. Anyway, here's the next chapter - and I'll be talking with you soon. Standby for Titanfa- I mean Top Gun references!


You shut the door with the back of your heel. It'd been a boring afternoon after Connor left. You'd tried to clean the apartment, but that didn't work. You'd thought about taking your pain medication, but didn't want the grogginess that came with it. So, as any "responsible" adult would do – you went grocery shopping.

That's what life was without your badge. A choice between grocery shopping, cleaning, or answering any of the hundreds of scathing comments left on your blog; save for one or two. Not to mention, Fowler had shut down any hopes of coming back early with a measly, "Thanks."

Hours of critical thinking in order to better understand deviants, and you get a "Thanks."

It's not like you wanted to hunt them all down and kill them. But you also had a city to protect. People, androids – and if there wasn't a compromise found soon, you'd have a civil war on your hands…Blood, too. Maybe even yours, or-

You sighed, taking each item out of their respective bags, stacking them on the counter. A different type of packaging reminded you of the slight detour you took – a clothing shop that specialized in expensive suits and ties.

Your phone vibrated, and a song played from the confines of your pocket.

"Whoop, whoop! That's the sound of the police-"

Your nose crinkled, and you pinned it between your ear and shoulder, "What?"

"I've been trying to get ahold of you all day." Chris chuckled, "I know you've been getting my messages."

"I'm busy."

"Uh-huh. Listen, we're getting off on time again. Turns out, your boy really helps us stay on top of things around here."

You smiled, but Chris could never know that.

"I wanted to see if you were up for coming out tonight. We're getting together for happy hour down at Jimmy's. I'm worried if I don't keep you socialized, you might turn feral."

You snorted, "…I don't know, man. Not really feeling it."

"Come on. I need to hear stories about-"

"There are no stories, Miller."

"I might be a bad liar, okay, but my bullshit detector is crazy good."

You scoffed, "…I'll think about it."

"I'll take it. Alright, Fowler's giving me that look from his office…Should've called you on the work phone. Station's not the same without you!"

"Tch…Get back to work, slacker."

"Hah…Alright. Later."

"See ya."

You rolled your eyes, shaking your head as your thumb flicked through notifications on the screen:

[7 UNREAD TEXT MESSAGES]

Three were from Chris. A string of HELLO's, STOP IGNORING ME's, and WHY ARE YOU LIKE THIS's.

Delete, delete, delete.

You opened the next one.

Gavin Reed

Today 12:24

Hope ur feeling better.

You scoffed, sending a cordial, "Thanks, Detective Reed."

Next message.

Hank Anderson

Today 13:22

Connor won't shut the fuck up about philosophy and he's giving me a goddamn migraine.

You smirked, "'One should not wrongly materialize 'cause' and 'effect.'"

You were surprised by how quickly he answered.

Hank Anderson

Today 15:55

For FUCK'S sake…

One more unread message to go. Your brows creased, and your jaw tightened.

"What is…"

UNKNOWN SENDER

?:?

Did you know WITSEC's servers are maintained by CyberLife androids?

You dropped your phone, and it skittered across the counter. A knee-jerk reaction that exhausted a stale breath trapped in your lungs. You rattled like a leaf…and then snatched the phone up again.

To: Chris Miller

Be there around 6.

Message Sent

Neon lights blinded you, your keys jingling from their ring clasped around your belt loop. A chorus of grown men leaked through the doors, and you started to regret your decision. Their voices went along with a familiar tune – chords from an electric guitar that was aged and reminiscent of a time even before you were born.

"HIGH-WAY, TO THE-"

You entered, and two words shook your eardrums.

"DANGER ZONE!"

You shouldn't have been surprised to find Chris singing with a group of patrons, a beer in one hand and a piece of food in the other.

"Look, guys!" He shouted, waving as barbeque sauce almost dripped on his uniform, "There's our Maverick!"

A loud wave of "HEY's" followed, and you were embraced by your coworkers.

"Easy, easy guys – ow, come on-"

You winced as head pats and shoulder-punches rocked you in place, squirming to escape their grip.

"I didn't think you'd actually show-" Chris took a bite of his chicken, chewing it as he continued, "I was scared I ordered this for nothing!"

He slid over a plate of your favorite bar food.

"Oh, man." You hung your wet jacket on the back of a barstool, "You shouldn't have."

You kept your voice quiet, lowering yourself in your seat, "Kinda like how you shouldn't have sent me an android dick in the mail…"

"HAH! Hngh-" He started to choke, and he beat his chest with his fist, "Shit-"

"I'm not giving you CPR."

"I'm good," He took a swig of beer, "I'm GOOD-"

"You drinking on the job?"

"One beer." He wiped his hands on a napkin, turning to you, "Soo…Partner…" He grinned, "Did 'curiosity,' kill the 'cat,' so to speak?"

"Chris…I swear to god."

"Look, if you wanna be mad at someone, be mad at my wife."

"Why in the hell would I be mad at her?!"

"'Cause it was her idea!"

Your eyebrows bent, "What?"

"I was talking to her about work, then you came up. Then I told her about the Con-Man-"

"…Come again?"

"That guy," He nodded his chin, "Over there."

A hard break was followed by a heavy rolling sound. You leaned back, finding a familiar face bent over a pool table.

His white sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, wearing a watch around his wrist. His hair and LED was covered by a black beanie with letters spelling "DCPD," stitched across the front. His forehead was creased, concentrating on the stick bobbing between his fingers.

"Why do I even fucking bother?" Gavin huffed, a cigarette dangling out of his mouth, "Fuckin' RoboCop…"

Connor struck his mark, and another ball went flying into a pocket.

"Detective Reed, may I ask you something?" He planted his pool cue on the floor, his fingers wrapping around the top.

Gavin rolled his eyes, ashing his cigarette, "Yeah, whatever."

"Why do you call me 'RoboCop?'"

"Your jacket," He nodded to a stand, "It says RK800. RK. RoboCop."

Connor tilted his head to the side, "'Cop' starts with a 'C.'"

"Are you callin' me stupid?"

"N-no, not at all." His eyes darted to the other off-duty officers huddled around the pool table.

He cleared his throat, taking on a certain suaveness, "You said it, not me."

Your stomach tied in knots, remembering what happened the last time Connor caught an attitude with "Detective Reed." He was playing with fire. Except now, everyone laughed.

"You little fucking prick-" His hands curled into fists, and Officer Brown grabbed his arm.

"Hey, remember what Fowler said. Tonight is Anderson's night off. We're responsible for it."

Gavin straightened his leather jacket with a growl, "Plastic piece of shit…"

Connor's eyes lifted in a devious grin. He looked pretty proud of himself.

And then he found you.

Chris's chuckle pulled your attention back, "Idiot…"

You tried to play it off like you weren't just caught staring by the android raking in bet collections.

"Anyway, back to your confession." You glared at Chris, "What exactly did you tell your wife?"

"Everything. That's kinda how marriages work." He took a sip of his drink, "Gave me some speech about women looking out for each other and then told me not to tell you about…Oh."

"God, you and Gavin are a pair…" You shook your head, starting to eat your meal, "And that's not how all marriages work."

"Oh okay, Ms. Forever-Alone. Please tell me what you know about marriages."

"I used to be married." You huffed, "Dodged a bullet with that one."

A low rumble came from his chest, "If only you were as good as dodging real bullets."

"Fuck off."

Jimmy slapped a towel over his shoulder, his palms pressed against the bar that divided the two of you, "Hey there, pretty lady."

"Hey, Jimmy." You crossed your arms along the edge of the counter, "How ya been?"

"Whole of a hell lot better than you, from what I hear."

"Yeah, well…Matchmaking Miller over here doesn't know how to keep his mouth shut."

Chris winked, moving his police hat away to give you more space, "Guilty as charged."

"The usual?" Jimmy asked, a smile forming on his harsh features.

"You know it."

"Anything for DCPD's finest." He nodded and got to work.

You ate next to your partner, swallowing a mouthful of food, "You know I saw you trip back in Ravendale, right?"

"Do what now?"

"You were walking. And then you weren't. It happened. I've got notes to prove it."

"Goddamn it…" He frowned, a finger slipping from his mouth, "…That's almost as embarrassing as when your boy toy over there got reprimanded for playing Frogger on the highway."

"PLAYING-" You started coughing, "Oh, my..."

"Or the looks on your faces when you opened my gift."

"I'm going to fucking kil-"

"Speak of the devil," He twisted in his seat, "How's it going, my man?"

Connor slipped between you and another person at the bar, leaning his head forward and looking at Chris, "I'd call it a success." His arm brushed against yours as he slid over a wad of cash, "It appears you were correct. Illegal gambling is fun, lucrative…and harmless."

"Ha-HA-" Chris picked it up, waving it around, "You're a legend!"

"Will this be enough to cover tonight's tab, Officer Miller?"

"Yeah…Mine, and hers."

Your face got hot, and you turned your head.

"Hello." He stared at you, almost nervous, "My name is Connor."

Your mouth hung open. Your heart went ice-cold.

"As ordered," Jimmy slid your drink towards you, "And don't think I don't know what that is."

Your eyes snapped to him, finding a pair of pursed lips through your daze.

"Saw him pick up Hank for a homicide a few days back. I know he's an-"

"Upstanding Detective." Chris plucked a twenty-dollar bill from his stack, "Who saved a little girl three months ago, the woman in front of you, and stopped Hank from falling to his death."

"You're lucky you're you." Jimmy snatched the money, "And, I'm keeping this."

"It's hard-earned cash. You should." Chris tipped his beer at the ceiling, "Making a profit off Gavin's misery never felt so good."

"Heard that."

You shook your head, turning back to Connor, "You…You don't remember me?"

His eyes flashed to Chris, and then focused on you, "I'm the android, sent by CyberLife to-"

"Help with the deviancy case. I know. Connor-" You pushed your face closer, "We just-"

A cough came from behind you. One that sounded a lot like Chris covering up a laugh. His tell. The thing that got him in trouble all the fucking time because he was horrible at lying.

Your mouth creased. You squeezed the chilled glass in your hand. Connor's eyebrows perked up, giving you a smile.

"I. Fucking." Your neck spun back at Chris, "Hate you."

"IT WAS HIS IDEA!"

"No, that's what you said about your wife, and I'm not fuckin' buying it anymore!"

"Officer Miller said it would be funny." Connor's chin fell and rose, inching closer to you, "...It was my idea."

"THAT'S NOT FUNNY, CONNOR!"

His beanie shifted as his face pulled back, "I'm sorry, I miscalculated my delivery."

Your nose scrunched, and you bit your lower lip. You sucked in your cheeks, trapping your tongue between your teeth.

"Do it." Chris urged, "You know you wanna laugh."

You did.

"God, fucking…Jimmy!"

"Yo!"

"Make it two! Ugh…" You let out short, quiet giggles, "It's gonna be a long night…"

You took your drink like a shot, placing the empty glass on the bar's rubber padding and wiping your mouth.

"The perks of being suspended, eh?" Chris smirked.

"Yep. Lots of alcohol." You grabbed his shoulder, giving him a gentle shake, "You're alright, you know that?"

"'YOU!'" He held his hands out, "'You are still dangerous. But you can be my wingman, anytime.'"

You squinted before you realized what he was referring to…

"'Bullshit,'" You nudged him with your elbow, "'You can be mine.'"

You peaked over your shoulder, finding Connor leaning on the bar; tie caught between his chest and a pair of crossed arms. He looked like he was enjoying himself, just sitting there and listening with the pool stick resting next to him. A faint light came from his pocket, blue in color. His armband.

"Hey, Detective Fuckboy," Connor's jacket was inside-out, and it hit him in the back of his head, "We gotta head to the station. Call came in. Homicide."

Chris turned around, "What?"

"You, too. Need to get back to the precinct and this one needs to fetch his owner." Gavin slapped money on the counter, "Got that?

Connor gained a foot on him as he stood straight, looking down, "…Got it."

"Good. You can catch a cab when we get there."

Chris grunted, almost as pissed as you were, "Where's the crime scene?"

"The Eden Club…" Gavin's eyes lifted to yours, "I'd say you could come with, but…You know. Wouldn't want you getting hurt."

"Why are you always such an asshole?" You tried to stand, and Chris pushed down on your shoulder.

"Who knows?" His brows perked, "Maybe I like you."

He gave you the sickest smile, and bit his teeth in a snap.

"Later…Dollface."

He grabbed the back of Chris's uniform, pulling him out of his seat.

"C'mon, Reed!" His hands flailed for his hat, barely grabbing it as he was yanked through a crowd.

Jimmy shifted his weight on a hip, pressed against the bar.

"Never liked that guy."

Your nose twitched, "No one does…"

Connor flipped his jacket on his shoulders, sliding his hands through the sleeves. He snapped his armband around his bicep, pulling the hat off his head.

Jimmy groaned under his breath, "You couldn't have waited till you got outside?"

Connor froze, studying the looks aimed at him.

"I'm sorry." He fixed his frenzied mess for hair, looking at the beanie on the counter, "I should return this to Officer Miller."

"Yeah…He's had that for a long time…"

You weren't feeling very talkative. The night had been going smooth, spending time with two of your favorite people, and then Gavin and a murderer fucked it all up. It was a nice escape, though, however brief.

Connor made his usual adjustments to his appearance. He began to leave, stopping at your side. His body turned with a concerned look on his face.

"What did Detective Reed mean when he implied that he 'liked' you?"

"Nothing important, Connor…"

"You filed a sexual-harassment suit against him last year. Was his comment relevant?"

"…Connor-"

"Should I include it in my report?"

You pinched the bridge of your nose, propping your head up with an elbow, "…No. Thank you, though."

"Very well." He gave you a curt nod, "Have a good night, Officer."

You watched him leave, the door chiming in his absence.

You'd come here for friendship; comradery – maybe a little bit of fun. And then you were reminded you had a job you should be doing, one that you weren't allowed to do.

You turned to your drink, left abandoned on the counter.

"Gonna need something stronger than this, Jimmy…"

You knocked it back, scolding at the burn of liquor.

"I've got half a bottle of Private Stock left."

"Sounds perfect."

You clammed up, shying away from bumping shoulders and loud groups. Jumping at darts hitting a board, and the shouts that came after. Idle chat floated on cigarette smoke, wafting by your nose. But you were alone – like a background loner in a movie.

A glass filled to the brim bumped against your wrist, void of ice and anything else to water it down.

"Thanks."

Jimmy screwed the corkwood top back into place on the bottle, "No problem. On the house."

"Ah, you don't have to do that…"

You looked at the pile of cash left at Chris's previous seat.

"All good. I don't know how to fix the world's problems, but…" He sighed, wiping his hands clean on his jeans as he surveyed his bar, "I know how to fix yours."

"You do?"

"Yeah, so…" He pulled out a cigarette, lighting it with a strike of a match; tossing the burnt wood in the sink.

The small of his back took to the edge of the opposite counter, lined with cash registers and glass bottles. He crossed his ankles. A glowing cherry hovered over the floor as his hand splayed across his forearm.

"Start talking."


A/N II: Thank you to MjrGenMatt for coming up with the "You said it," and the "Or the looks on your faces," lines! He made some other suggestions that really brought this chapter to life.

I'd also like to add, Top Gun is my favorite movie (since I was 5, and even by then it was a classic) and the singing scene was based off real events between myself and my childhood-best-friend, who is indeed a male. (Seriously, I was the best "wo-man," in his wedding.)

Anyway, I hope you enjoyed it! This one hit really close to home for me!