Note: This oneshot was not requested, it simply came to me and I knew I had to write it. Hank, reader and Connor play 'the floor is lava'.
I may start doing these short fills for some of the requests I got (specifically the ones I can't make into a full 5000+ word chapter) that are between 1000 and 2000 words, just cause it'll make it easier to go through them all.
This chapter is supposed to be a fluffy/humorous pile of cracky laughs, not to be taken completely seriously. Hank is pretty out of character, but it's all part of the comedy aspect. I hope y'all enjoy it nonetheless :')
Scorched
Connor was masterful at calculations.
The android could solve any equation in a fraction of a second, the numbers flitting through his processor in just a snap of the fingers - he was super advanced, more so than any other existing android, and every day you were learning more and more about his magnificent intellect.
More often than not, Connor could walk into a crime scene, sweep the area with just a look and tell you and Hank exactly how and why a homicide had taken place, down to the most minute details that would usually take hours of scouring and questioning from a variety of sources to obtain.
"The victim was sleeping with the perpetrator's wife."
"How the fuck can you tell that, Connor?"
"Well, it's obvious, isn't it Hank?"
With just a smear of blood, Connor could identify and list the records of an individual who had managed to slip through the DPD's grasp time and time again - thanks Gavin - showing persistently that the android was essential to the team when it came to solving the most difficult of mysteries.
"Look, if I can't find the identity of the suspect, then the tin-can won't be able to either."
"Wrong again, Gavin. What would you like to know? The murderer's name? Gender? Date of birth? Current place of residence? Previous criminal record? Blood type? Current occupation? Most frequented locations? Favourite food? Favouri-"
"Alright prick, you made your fuckin' point!"
The android's superior audial and visual senses allowed him to shoot a target up to five times further away than the most skilled human had ever accomplished with a pistol, meaning that trying to flee from the mechanical detective was always futile.
"Lieutenant, I've spotted the perpetrator! He's three point seven miles north-east from our current position; he's blonde, he has green eyes, he's six foot tall, his jeans are ripped at the knees-"
"Alright, Legolas, how about you shut up and chase on after him instead of wasting the next half hour giving us a perfect description of this guy?"
"...Lieutenant, my name is Connor, not Legolas."
It was spectacular to watch Connor build a lead out of almost nothing. You wished you could acquire an intimate knowledge of just how the android's processor worked, because the more you witnessed his advanced artificial brain doing its thing, the more you believed it to be pure witchcraft.
Still, there was one thing holding you back from accusing the android of sorcery, and that was that occasionally, every once in a blue moon, Connor's calculations didn't always take everything into account.
"The floor is lava!"
Out of all the people in the world, you hadn't expected Hank to have such a playful streak, and you also hadn't expected him to be so competitive over a silly childhood game… but that wasn't to say you weren't down to play pretend with the old lieutenant.
You dashed from Hank's kitchen with impressive speed and dived over the back of the couch, landing safely on the padded cushions while the old man himself climbed into his armchair, feet up off the ground the protect his toes from the invisible, smoldering molten lava.
"I got up first", Hank stated with a smug smirk, and you scoffed with indignation.
"You were right next to the chair! I was all the way over in the kitchen, and it was you who called lava, of course you got up first! Unfair." You exclaimed petulantly with a wild wave of your arms, before turning your attention to the dog lounging on the carpet. "Sumo! Get up! The lava is gonna get you!"
The St. Bernard in question gave a whine of curiosity, cocking his head up at you without a hint of comprehension regarding your apparent alarm.
"Sumo! Quick, to your bed, buddy!" Hank pointed meaningfully to the pile of cushions near the wall where Sumo usually lazed, but it seemed he just wasn't interested in doing as he was told, "No, Sumo! C'mon, bud! You're gonna burn to death!" The dog refused to move, and Hank let out a melodramatic wail of despair.
"Who's gonna burn to death?" Connor enquired with a quirked eyebrow as he entered the living room from the hallway, probably wondering what all the fuss was about; his interest only heightened when he looked between you and the lieutenant with an odd look, finding it noticeably unusual that the two of you were crouched on top of the furniture.
You shared a knowing glance with Hank before forcing a look of faux terror onto your face, "Connor! You gotta get to safety! There's not much time left before the lava consumes you!"
"You're gonna melt!" Hank cried, "Jesus Christ, you're gonna melt and we're going to suffocate on your plastic fumes!"
Connor's eyes widened with confusion, his LED fluttering yellow as he turned his startled expression from Hank back to you, "What are you… talking about?" He had surely reached the conclusion that the two of you had gone utterly loopy.
"The floor, Connor! It's lava!" You supplied hastily, pointing to the ground by his feet; Connor followed the path of your finger, staring down at the carpet below him.
Processing… processing… processing…
"I can assure you the floor is not lava, detective", said Connor, tilting his head and squinting his eyes as he likely scanned your body to ensure you were well and hydrated, and not experiencing some sort of awful hallucination.
"Yes, it is, Connor", Hank affirmed, running a hand through his hair, "And if you don't get off the carpet soon, you're gonna burn like Sumo!"
The android blinked, slowly facing Sumo who had rolled over onto his back and was lying contentedly on the floor, before his gaze fell to his feet again, and then to the magazine nearby that had been discarded carelessly on the ground earlier that day.
His LED turned blue and he stepped cautiously onto the magazine, looking back up at you and displaying wide, innocent blinks. "Like this?"
"Yes! Oh thank god, he made it! Connor is saved..." You cried, "...for the moment. That flimsy little magazine isn't gonna last long. You need to get somewhere that the lava won't be able to reach", you indicated the couch you were perched on with a smile on your face.
"Nothing in this room would be able to withstand direct contact with molten lava, detective."
"No, but they're right! You're as good as liquid plastic if you stay on that magazine", Hank stated, scratching his hairy chin, "You need to get to higher ground, kid, you've probably only got a few seconds left before you're completely engulfed."
The android gave an exasperated sigh, to which you stifled a giggle; the theatrical show you and Hank were exhibiting clearly wasn't appreciated by everybody in the room - poor Connor was confused enough as it was, never having experienced the joy of the game 'the floor is lava' before in his life, and it seemed that encouraging him to make-believe the ground was deadly was a tad too challenging for his processor to handle.
"You gotta get to me, Connor, it's the only way you'll be safe", you held out your arms, reaching futilely for the android who was a solid three metres away from the couch - you'd seen Connor do many incredible things, and you couldn't doubt he could jump the gap with ease, still… "Do you think you can leap into my arms, Connor?"
The android blinked slowly, a thoughtful look slipping over his face for several seconds before he gave a puffed up smile, "Effortlessly", he answered, before focusing on the gap between himself and you. He was calculating. His LED flashed rapidly in succession before Connor's smile widened and he lowered into a crouch as if ready to pounce like a cat. In just a couple ticks of the clock, he had pre-constructed the manoeuvre he planned to execute, from the force he needed to kick off, the course of his trajectory, to the exact length he needed to extend his legs to reach the optimal angle with which he would launch himself.
Connor forgot to account for one thing - the lack of friction between the magazine and the carpet.
Like a cat finding no traction, Connor pushed off into his leap and the magazine slid promptly out from beneath his feet, causing him to plunge forwards to the ground front first.
An involuntary gasp rushed past your lips as your hand flew to your mouth in surprise, succeeded only moments later by roaring laughter exuding forth from both you and the lieutenant across the room. Neither of you had expected to witness the android lose his balance and tumble onto his face - a nanosecond flash of regret in Connor's expression had been only just visible and you were losing it. Your lungs burned almost as hotly as the imaginary lava as you tried to quell your giggles, staring down at the android who had yet to move from his shameful position.
"That was- that was fucking hysterical", Hank wheezed, clutching his stomach with the force of his mirth.
You almost choked as you spoke, "Connor, are- are you al- alright?" The rasp of your throat was growing uncomfortable, but you just couldn't put a stop to your untamed amusement. "-Connor?"
The android turned his face to the side, revealing the light pink blush on his cheeks, evident of his embarrassment, but otherwise didn't move to get up, "Does this mean I'm dead?"
A fresh wave of snickers threatened to erupt from you, but you managed to stifle them, rubbing your eyes free of the tears that had sprung up from your rush of glee. Below you, down by the bottom of the couch, Sumo rolled back over and pushed himself up, padding over to the fallen android to inspect why he was lying flat on the carpet; without prompting, Sumo crawled on top of Connor and slumped over his bag, his long tongue hanging from his mouth as he cocked his head happily.
"Yes! Good boy, Sumo! Sumo lives!" Hank coughed out, still recovering from the excitement of the moment.
"Glad I could be of service", Connor grumbled, his voice muffled against the floor, and Sumo yipped merrily in response. "At least in my apparently fiery death, I saved the dog."
You pressed your hand against your face, feeling the heat rising from your cheeks as your giggly hysterics subsided, "Oh, this is so sad. Connor, play Despacito", you murmured with a sigh, watching as Hank threw his head back in another bout of silent chortles.
"I can't. I'm dead, remember?"
Indeed, Connor's calculations weren't always perfect.
Notes: I think of myself not just as a memer, but as a meme chaser.