"You needed new clothes anyway."
Connor had been dragged out of the house on a shopping trip with Hank. Hank, though not exactly the shopping type, didn't like had Connor had only one pair of clothes. That pair was the one Cyberlife had gifted him upon his creation. That's why they ended up visiting several clothing stores with Hank making Connor try out multiple amounts of… fashion horrors. Hank's sense of fashion was much different than Connor's own. Connor liked the professional and sharp looking clothes while Hank…? Well, let's just say he didn't really have a sense for those kinds of things.
Connor ended up carrying several bags stuffed with clothes bought from thrift stores until Hank finds something that catches his eye. A music shop filled with classics. Once Hank saw the place, he didn't think twice and told Connor to wait outside.
Connor, having lost Hank's companionship, gains the company of another.
An elderly woman drops her bags onto the floor and gives out a weary sigh. She takes one glance at Connor and once she sees his gaze on her own… she smiles. Connor returns the smile politely and that gives her enough of an incentive to strike up a conversation.
"Shopping trip?" She observes the bags in his hands.
Connor nods, "Yes. New clothes."
She smiles knowingly.
"Androids don't have many clothes to begin with."
Connor shrugs, "Extra uniforms are provided upon the purchase of androids, at least, they were originally."
"My sister had an android before they were liberated" the elderly woman begins, "she liked to dress her up in the clothes she made for her. I always thought she looked at her android like a living doll. How wrong I was. She simply adored her."
Connor's eyes waver on the elderly woman's form as her own eyes glazed over in her memories.
"My sister is gone now."
Connor says quietly, "I'm sorry for your loss."
The woman simply smiles.
"Nothing could be done," she sighs, stretching out her arms, and then straightening her back, "although I would have liked to see that android of hers one last time. I'd like to know what happened to the poor thing."
"It's a small world," Connor points out.
"A small world that feels far too large," the woman says.
Connor watches the elderly woman thoughtfully and barely notices Hank escape the music shop.
"Alright, I'm finished. We can head home," Hank says but he stops when he sees Connor engaged in eye-contact with a stranger. Hank casually approaches Connor, hands stuck in his pockets, and he observes the woman up and down.
The woman smiles, once more, kindly.
"Hello," she says, her mouth unfiltered as she continues, "you have a lovely son."
Connor doesn't drink water, but if he did, he would have sputtered it all out.
Connor turns to gauge Hank's reaction and finds the man unmoving. He didn't seem phased at all and was not nearly as bothered as Connor was.
"Lovely?" Hank scoffs, "Not a word I'd use to call him. He's more of a pain in the back."
Connor's eyes widen.
He didn't deny it.
"Hank-" he starts but he doesn't have the opportunity to finish. Not when Hank's hand reaches up to ruffle his hair roughly, thoroughly destroying its well-groomed form. Connor is horrified at the action and reaches his hands up to his hair. He had expected Hank to retrieve his hand after he was done ruffling it but instead it stays there on his head as if it belonged there.
The woman laughs.
"Well, I suppose I mustn't keep you," the woman reaches down to pick up her bags.
"Do you need any assistance?" Connor asks.
"Oh no. Thank you for the offer, though." The woman adjusts the bags on her wrist so that they are in a more comfortable position. "Perhaps I might see you again. It is… as you say… a small world."
Connor and Hank watch as the lady retreats elsewhere.
"Nice lady," Hank says.
"Yes…" Connor trails off, thoughts still on recent events.
Hank rolls his eyes.
"Don't think too hard on it, kid."
"What?"
Hank smiles crookedly, "I can read you like a book. Don't think too hard about what she said."
"But I'm not your son and I don't know why you didn't make that clear to her," Connor's confusion is laced into his voice.
"Use your head," is Hank's only reply.