November 8, 2038

The next day went by in a long blur at the Detroit Police Department.

Hank and Connor spent several hours working to identify the deviants they had on camera at the warehouse break-in. The female android was the first they found success with, connecting her to an android reported missing from the Eden Club, an android-employed sex club in the city. The two male androids were a different story. They were common models, and therefore the list of possible suspects was long.

Then there was the deviant leading the group, but Connor already knew who he was - he was Connor's predecessor, after all. A gift to an artist by the name of Carl Manfred, designed personally by Elijah Kamski himself. Connor expected nothing but vague responses from CyberLife if he prodded for more information, but per Hank's request, he agreed to try.

They hadn't seen much of Andy, who was in SID's office helping Lieutenant Richards prepare for their operation. Every few hours, she would leave in search of coffee or water from the kitchen. She'd stop by their desks on her way and check in on the case. It provided small breaks for the trio, Andy and Hank casually bickering with one another as Connor watched the entertainment.

It had gone late into the night when Connor received word of a new case. He returned to the bullpen of the department looking for Hank, and instead found Andy at Connor's desk. Her feet were propped up over the edge of the desk, and she read through a tablet resting on her lap.

When she noticed his presence, she glanced up and shrugged at his curious stare. "SID's been using my desk as storage." She flicks a finger across the screen of her tablet, muttering, "Assholes."

Connor scanned the room, and then the empty kitchen. "Where is the Lieutenant?"

"His third bottle, probably. Why?" She asked with a small sigh.

"There's a new case at the Eden Club."

The shift in her attention was immediate. She lowered her tablet and looked up at him, pausing a brief moment to settle into her excitement. Widened eyes, a smile. Finds enjoyment in establishments like Eden?

Dropping her tablet onto his desk, she kicked her feet off to the floor and started to stand. "Oh, I have to see this," She mused, flashes of amusement breaking through. Not the club. Finds enjoyment in Lieutenant Anderson's reactions.

Connor watched her walk around the desk and past him. She nudged his arm on her way, offering, "I'll give you a ride. Hope you're okay with motorcycles."

He didn't know if he was okay with motorcycles or not. He had the knowledge to operate one, but he suspected that meant very little in terms of preference. It wasn't lost on him that the excitement Andy had just displayed was something he understood a little more now that he was given the expectation of riding a bike.

That couldn't have meant anything good for him, but he would think on it later. "I haven't had the opportunity to ride one, but I'd be interested in the experience," He told Andy as he turned to follow her out of the department.

She looked over her shoulder at him, her grin changing. Another smile: less sharp, more... cheerful.


"So what's your conclusion?"

They were standing in front of Hank's home. Andy was resting her helmet on the bike as Connor pulled at his blazer in an attempt to tidy his appearance, which had been mussed by the wind. When he looked to her with a blank stare after her question, she nodded toward the bike.

"There's little safety, and it leaves you vulnerable to the weather. I suppose the speed and flexibility is a worthy substitute depending on the destination-"

He trailed off at her deepening expression. Raised brow, uneven smile. A smirk. She was wanting more from him than an analysis, and his eyes darted to the bike as though hoping he would find something to help him there. His LED cycled through yellow as he struggled to find a way to reword his findings.

It was slow as he began, "All in all, it's daring but efficient. Much like you, Detective." Looking to Andy, he offered her a small smile and an affirmative nod. "I think I like it."

Softer expression. A smile again. I've surprised her.

If the first try wasn't an answer she hoped for, this was one she hadn't expected. She chuckled and said, "Let's go get Hank before you make a girl blush, huh?"

The comment caught his attention, but before he could question her about it, she'd already gotten halfway to the door. She knocked as he joined her on the porch, and the two waited for a response that never came.

Andy sighed in irritation. "He probably passed out."

"Can you pick the lock again?" He asked her.

She shot him a quick grin and said, "I think I'm a bad influence on you, Connor." Plucking a lockpick from her jacket pocket, Andy hovered over the doorknob and made quick work of the lock.

Hank was laying on the kitchen floor when they entered the house. Upon noticing him, they rushed across the room. Connor knelt down beside the man, checking for vitals. Hank was alive, but unconscious. The beer bottle on the floor nearby was sign enough of what had happened, along with the traces of liquor in his beard.

A gun had been dropped to the floor and Andy walked around the scene to pick it up and inspect it. She looked into the chamber of the pistol and scoffed. She lowered it to show Connor that Hank was playing Russian Roulette, and he was one pull of the trigger away from losing.

It was a conversation for another time, if at all. Connor reached out and gave him a light slap to the cheek. "Lieutenant?" This pulled nothing but grumbling from Hank. "Wake up, Lieutenant!"

For a brief moment, Hank's eyes opened, though his sight was glazed over and didn't seem to register his surroundings. He swallowed hard and turned his head away, slipping back into sleep. In response, Connor lifted his arm above his head and sent it on a fast track downward. The contact to skin made a loud smack, and Hank jolted up, searching for the offender.

"It's me, Connor. I'm going to sober you up for your own safety."

He stared at Connor, and then Andy. Connor grabbed his arm and pulled him up, wrapping his arm around Connor's shoulders. "Hey! Leave me alone, you fuckin' android!" Hank yelled, his head bobbing and swaying around as he tried to glare and nod toward the door. "Get the fuck outta my house!"

"I'm sorry, Lieutenant, but we need you," Connor began calmly. He lifted Hank up to his feet, and balanced the added weight in his grip. "I thank you in advance for your cooperation."

"Get the fuck outta here!"

He ignored Hank, instead shifting his focus to Andy, who was gathering up the mess on the floor. "You should wait here, Detective."

She almost rolled her eyes. "No complaints from me," She told him, placing the bottle and Hank's gun on the dining table.

Hank's drunken yelling trailed out of the kitchen and down the hall toward the bathroom as Andy worked to tidy up the kitchen. It was less a favor to Hank and more a way to release pent up frustrations. She was pissed.

It wasn't news to her that Hank wasn't coping, but to see the extreme way he was struggling up close and in person - that bothered her. It made it more real, and reminded her of just how out of touch she was.

If things had been different for her over the years, perhaps she could have found it within herself to be gentle. She could have helped him as quietly and calmly as Connor was. She wanted to be that person, but as it stood, her anger was five years in the making, and she found it hard to do anything more than lash out.

"What do you want to wear?"

"Whatever."

Seconds later, Connor emerged from the hall and wandered into the living room. Sumo lay on his bed in the corner, and he lifted his head when Connor grew closer. Andy watched from the kitchen as Connor lowered to his knees and extended a hand. The dog closed the rest of the gap, and he ran a hand through thick fur.

He looked up to find her, and she tried to throw out a grin upon them making eye contact, though it was faint. "The Lieutenant should be ready shortly," Connor informed.

"Did you tell him where we're going?"

He nodded, though it was uncertain. "I informed him the next case was at a sex club. It seemed the only thing to entice him into cooperating with me."

Tilting her head to dramatically quirk a brow, she asked, "He know it's an android sex club?"

"I didn't think mentioning that part would help me," He replied. He stood, ignoring Sumo's curious stare as he moved into the kitchen. Nothing was obvious about the scene, but the stiff tone in Andy's voice told him she was not pleased. "Should I give him appropriate warning?"

"Let him figure it out," She muttered, tossing the dirty rag she'd been wiping the table with into the sink.

Furrowed brow, deep frown. Hard movements. Something is wrong.

He watched her from the edge of the kitchen floor. "You seem upset, Detective."

"You don't say?" At the sound of footsteps, they turned to face the hallway, where Hank was finally making a more sober appearance. Before the men could say anything, Andy snapped. "What the hell were you thinking?"

He didn't need to look to her to know the expression on her face. Shaking his head, he grumbled, "Now I'm thinkin' I wish I was unconscious again."

This certainly didn't appease her. She gestured around the room, scolding, "Do you have any idea how bad this looks? Fowler could have your badge over this!"

He stopped when he reached the kitchen and finally faced her. "What are you gonna do, tell on me?" He yelled back.

"I just might!" She answered. With a visible scoff, she pointed between them as she continued, "You complain about me being stupid and then you go and gamble with your life in the middle of an investigation!"

He held out a hand toward her, his own temper flaring just as quickly as hers had. "I don't need a lecture, okay? What I do is my business!"

"Not when I have to walk in on it!"

The environment got quiet as Hank took a slow step forward. He lowered his voice to a biting growl, saying, "You know, I think Jeffrey's right. This ain't a family dynamic, you got that?" Slashing a hand through the air, he yelled, "I'm not your old man!"

As soon as he said it, he regretted it, but he'd be damned if he let her know that. Andy almost reeled back at the comment, and even five years of undercover work couldn't entirely hide the glimpse of hurt and rage boiling. It almost made him apologize.

"Fuck you, Hank," She spat out, shoving past him to storm out of the house.

The door slammed shut behind her, and engulfed the room in an uneasy silence. Connor's LED had been a very steady yellow throughout the fight and even now, it was hard to step out of that mode that was desperately searching for a way to stop and fix whatever was happening.

"I don't think that was the appropriate strategy to calm her down, Lieutenant," He murmured, unsure of... well, everything.

"Oh, shut up!"


The ride to the Eden Club had been heavy, to say the least. Hank refused to entertain any conversation with Connor, who could only relate his current situation to that of a child of feuding parents. When they arrived at the club, Andy was already there. She waited across the street, leaning against the seat of her parked bike. Connor took note of her, and the fact that Hank was adamant about looking everywhere but at her.

They left Hank's car, and Hank eyed the images above the entrance of the building as he made his way to the sidewalk. "'Sexiest androids in town,'" He snorted, adding, "Now I see why you insisted on coming here."

Connor ignored the remark, and followed him into the club. Purple and blue lighting decorated both the floors and walls, with slow advertisements playing on numerous screens. A variety of HR400 and WR400 models were positioned on pedestals around the lobby and main hallway, which branched off into other parts of the building and was lined with doors to rooms providing customers with privacy.

Ben stood with the owner of the club and a fellow officer by an open door. He waved Hank over after he spotted them. "Hey, Hank!"

"Hey, Ben, how's it goin?" Hank replied, approaching the group.

"It's that room over there," Ben gestured to the nearest doorway. He then cleared his throat and said, "Oh, uh, by the way... Gavin's in there too."

Hank sighed. He glanced into the room, where he could already make out a ruffled bed and two bodies. "Oh. Great. A dead body and an asshole, just what I needed," He muttered before entering the room.

Officer Chris Miller and Detective Gavin Reed stood around the crime scene, which consisted of a dead man in the bed and a deactivated android on the floor by the wall. When Hank entered, Chris gave a polite nod in greeting.

It was not in Gavin Reed's nature to be polite, as Connor had already observed days ago. He smirked at them, arms crossed and a general sense of arrogance permeating the air around him. "Lieutenant Anderson and his plastic pet... The fuck are you two doin' here?"

Hank was short and gruff, replying, "We've been assigned all cases involving androids."

"Oh, yeah? Well, you're wasting your time," Reed began, nudging toward Chris with a laugh that the officer did not share. "Just some pervert who, uh, got more action than he could handle."

Hank gave a small nod, looked around the scene, and said, "We'll have a look anyway, if you don't mind." He moved toward the body, waving a hand over his shoulder. "Why don't you go fill in Detective Hope, huh, Reed? She's right outside."

This caught both Reed's and Connor's attention, though for different reasons. Shrugging, Reed made his way for the door. "Best idea you've had in years," He commented, pausing only to scrunch his nose as he neared Hank, "It's starting to stink of booze in here, anyway." Chris sent them a silent look of apology as he followed the detective out of the room, leaving them be.

The conversation implied Andy and Reed weren't strangers. While Connor couldn't be sure how they responded to one another, he could be sure that Andy was not feeling very accommodating tonight. His gaze was accusatory as he spoke to Hank, "Is sending Detective Reed out there a good idea, Lieutenant? Detective Hope's current mood appears... less than tolerant."

Hank looked up from the wallet he picked up to scowl. "Why do you think I suggested it?" He asked before waving a hand toward the bodies. "Just focus on the crime scene, will ya?"


Outside the club, Andy waited. She sat against her bike and watched the commotion of officers coming and going. Even if she was privy to the deviancy cases, they weren't hers, and on the surface, this particular scene had nothing to do with red ice. It was too much of a risk to join them inside, so at a curb across the street, she would wait.

"Vicky?"

That wasn't to say she was free of risk where she was, either. She looked to the voice and saw a lanky young man standing on the sidewalk. "What are you doing here, Tommy?" She asked as though she hadn't been spotted police-watching.

He choked out a laugh and gestured to the squad cars. "Me? I'm not the one watching the police investigate a robo sex club!"

In the grand scheme of Weaver's operation, Tommy was little more than an errand boy. He delivered messages and trivial packages, and worked with the casual customers - the overworked mother wanting a day off, or the fresh-faced college kid looking to experiment.

He was not the worst one to catch her there, because she knew how to push his buttons. "I was lookin' for a good time, okay?" She defended. Shaking her head as she eyed the officers at the door, she whined, "Was kind of hoping they'd be gone by now."

This was enough to catch Tommy by surprise, and the sensitive topic had him struggling for words. "Oh, you... You, uh... I didn't know..." After a pause, he decided to turn the tables and try to tease her. "So you like plastic, huh?"

"I like orgasms." The sounds he made were even less legible than the earlier stuttering. Like an embarrassed schoolboy, he shifted on his feet and attempted, without success, to appear lackadaisical about the whole thing.

Reed emerged from the front doors of the club. When he started to cross the street, Andy straightened. "Shit."

She stood and grabbed her helmet from off the bike seat. Drawing closer, Reed held up a hand to wave them away. "All right, get a move on, you two. There's nothing to see here."

In true form, Tommy was gone faster than she could see the direction he went. He never had much of a spine. She would poke fun at him over it later, but for now, she would sit atop her bike and make her way around to the back of the club.

She was putting on her helmet when Reed's hand clamped down on the nearest handle of her bike. He leaned in, and as she looked down at his hand, he loudly asked her, "You sure you should be lurking this close to a crime scene, Victoria?"

"You sure you should be putting your hand there, Asshole?" She retorted, shooting a glance up at him.

"Yeah, keep talking, see where it gets you," He threatened.

Inhaling deeply, she stared at the road ahead, asking, "You got anything good to say or just your usual bile?"

At this, he leaned closer. "One victim, one trashed android. Your buddies are wasting their time," He said, almost gleeful at the thought.

She smirked. "You would know an awful lot about bogus police work," She jabbed before smacking his hand off the handle to replace it with her own grip. "Tell 'em I'll be around back."

He shoved his hands into his pockets, asking her, "I hear you might be done with the red ice case soon. Need a new partner?"

With a side glance and the quirk of a brow, she replied, "Why, you know any decent officers looking?"

Much like she often did with him, he wouldn't let her see the offense he took to her words. Instead his smirk tightened, and he took a slow step away from the bike. "Get outta here. I see you near another crime scene and you're going in the back of a squad car," He ordered with a raised voice. He winked just to piss her off before returning to the club.


After reactivating the android in the room, Connor discovered that there had been a second android - a blue-haired Traci - who killed the man after he destroyed her coworker. This likely meant that she was still in the club, and using the memories of the androids working there, he traced her movements all the way to the garage.

They searched through the rows of androids stationed there, and Hank took to filling the silence with a rant. "People are fucking insane. They don't want relationships anymore, everybody just gets an android," He shrugged, crossing the room, "They cook what you want, they screw when you want, you don't have to worry about how they feel."

He stopped to look over the table in the middle of the room, "Next thing you know, we're gonna be extinct because everybody would rather buy a piece of plastic than love another human being." Shaking his head, he muttered, "Beats me."

Connor began to approach another group of androids. He stood in front of the Traci models, examining each of them, when a brunette model lunged forward. She shoved him back, and he stumbled away as a fight broke out in the store room.

"Don't move!" Hank yelled, running to Connor's aid.


Andy was waiting around the corner from the club when she heard Hank yelling. She bolted off her bike and made the fast trek to the back of the building. It was bordered off by a tall chain-link fence, through which she could see into the yard leading up to the garage. Connor and Hank were each facing off with separate androids, fighting in the snow. While Connor was exchanging blows in an even match, Hank had been taken to the ground.

"Son of a..."

The lock on the gate was too heavy duty for her to attempt to break or pick, which left her with one option. She lifted her arms and latched on, quickly climbing to the top and dropping to the ground on the other side.

She ran across the driveway and past Connor. Reaching Hank's side, she grabbed hold of the android atop him and shoved her off balance. The android caught herself and bounced up to her feet, turning to swing at Andy. Andy ducked backward before kneeling and rushing into her, knocking them both to the snow.

Now free, Hank climbed to his feet and scanned his surroundings for his gun. When he spotted it in Connor's hands, he cursed under his breath and turned to focus on the fight taking place behind him. Andy and the Traci model tumbled over one another, and the android found herself on top.

She delivered a swift punch and pulled her arm up to strike again, but this time Andy caught her wrist. Immediately following this was the cold metal of Andy's gun pushing against her stomach, bringing the android to an abrupt stop.

"Stand up. Slowly," Andy ordered, a little on the breathless side.

The android ripped her arm out of Andy's grasp and followed the instruction. Andy kept a steady aim on her as she backed up, giving them space. Hank took the opportunity to reach for Andy's arm, and once she entwined it with his own, he pulled her up to her feet.

"You good?" Hank whispered, to which she replied with a sharp nod.

Meanwhile, Connor had managed to wrangle the Traci he fought toward the fence. He closed in on her, and she glanced around for a weapon. Taking hold of a nearby trashcan, she lifted it up behind her and threw it at him. The metal canister slammed into Connor's torso, pushing him off his feet and breaking his hold on his gun.

The group closer to the garage looked over at the sound. The lid of the offending trashcan rolled past him, toward the android on the other side of Andy's gun. She jumped for the lid, and as Andy looked down the barrel of her gun, ready to issue another command, the android turned and flung the lid in their direction.

Hank raised a hand to catch the lid with his forearm, but the toss was enough to obscure Andy's aim. Connor reached for Hank's gun, and clamored to his knees. By the time either of them were able to get the android back in their sights, both Traci models reunited by the fence.

They stood side by side, staring down the three detectives with a brazen mixture of anger and fear. They reached for each other's hands, holding tight. "When that man broke the other Traci, I knew I was next," The blue-haired Traci finally spoke, "I was so scared. I begged him to stop but he wouldn't. And so I put my hands around his throat and I squeezed. Until he stopped moving."

She looked back to the android beside her, who nodded and squeezed her hand. "I didn't mean to kill him. I just wanted to stay alive - get back to the one I love." Her voice went soft, tone full of longing and resentment. "I wanted her to hold me in her arms again. Make me forget about the humans - their smell and their sweat. Their dirty words."

"Come on. Let's go," Her partner whispered to her, pulling her closer to the fence.

There was no logical reason not to shoot them. They were deviants. He was a deviant hunter. That Traci model killed a man. He was an android detective. If he wasn't going to stop deviancy, what good was he? But as they turned away from the trio and began to climb the fence, Connor couldn't bring himself to pull the trigger.

Before he realized it, he'd lowered his gun.


Connor stared out at the alley. Behind him was half of CSI, collecting evidence from the garage. Hank spoke with Ben, explaining the events while also omitting some of the more important details. He glanced out at Connor every now and then, unsure if the worry he was feeling was for the android's emotional wellbeing, or for the possibility he'd been compromised.

"You didn't shoot." Connor turned his head; Andy stood there, looking up at him with as much intensity as he was already placing on himself. "You had a clear line of sight."

There was nothing he could really say. There was no good reason, after all, to let them go. "I chose not to shoot," He said.

"No shit," Was her instant response, "Why?"

He paused. He didn't know why. He hated not knowing why. "I wanted to take the Tracis in for questioning," He lied.

She almost laughed at that, asking, "So you let them go instead? Doesn't seem like the kind of decision a machine's at liberty to make."

It wasn't. That was the worst part - the main problem he was trying to solve. His eyes narrowed down at her, replying defensively, "I assure you, Detective, I am not human or deviant."

She nodded, but it was slow and skeptical at best. "Just a robo cop with compassion, is that it?" She mused. Glancing to the squad working in the garage, she moved on, "I'm going to head out before this attracts too much attention."

He watched her turn to leave, but another thought struck him. The fight in Hank's kitchen. The look on her face. It shouldn't have struck him, but it did. "Detective," He called out. When she turned to face him, he said, "I'm sure the Lieutenant regrets how your last conversation went."

Much to his dismay, she snorted. Despite the harsh sound, her attention on him was not displeased. She was almost smiling as she walked backwards, joking, "And now he's a psychologist! Imagine that."

His brows furrowed, and he shook his head. "I'm not a-"

"Connor, get over here!"


It was a long day for the DPD, and an even longer night. Hank needed some peace and quiet, and maybe some fresh air. He went to the one spot that had all of those things - a bench along the riverside with a decent view of the bridge to Canada. He sat atop the back of the bench, a bottle in hand and the cold wind biting at his skin.

It shouldn't have been much of a surprise when Connor appeared, walking up to the side of the bench and crossing his arms. The damn android couldn't go an hour without being at his side, it seemed. He would've likened it to a puppy if he didn't think it was an insult to dogs.

"Nice view, huh? I used to come here a lot before...," Hank trailed off. It'd been a while since talking about Cole almost slipped from him so easily.

Connor watched him with a curious stare. "Before what?"

"Before-" No. Don't do that, Hank. It never led anywhere good, not that where he usually was was any better. He shook his head, saying, "Before nothin'."

But this was Connor he was talking to, and Connor wasn't one to let up on things. "You seem preoccupied, Lieutenant. Is it something to do with what happened back at the Eden Club?" He inquired.

Hank couldn't deny that was part of it tonight. In just a matter of minutes, his entire view on androids was challenged and shaken. "Those two girls... They just wanted to be together. They really seemed in love," He murmured.

"They can simulate human emotions, but they're machines. And machines don't feel anything," Connor explained.

For some reason, that frustrated Hank more than he suspected it should have. Maybe it was the dismissal of what was clearly a traumatic experience, or maybe it was the knowledge that Connor wasn't so free of puzzling behavior, himself. "What about you, Connor?" Hank finally turned on him, sliding off the bench to his feet. "You look human, you sound human, but what are you really?"

The question seemed to bother Connor, who turned defensive. "You know exactly what I am. In any case, I don't see how that's relevant to the investigation."

It was a little too relevant, if Hank was feeling particularly honest about it. "You could've shot those two girls, but you didn't. Why didn't you shoot, Connor? Hm? Some scruples suddenly enter into your program?" He probed.

"No, I...," Shaking his head, Connor gave a weak answer, "Just decided not to shoot, that's all."

Hank took a step toward him, his gaze turning more scrutinizing. "And why'd you save me? Back on that roof, you let that deviant go to help me."

It was a question that plagued him for days, but he didn't know how to ask it or if he even should. It could have been a fluke, and if that was the case, he didn't want to hear it. He didn't know what he wanted the answer to be.

"You're my partner. There's always a chance I can find that deviant again," Connor argued, his expression souring as the conversation had now been completely turned around onto him.

To say it like it was such an obvious decision bugged Hank. He snorted and shook his head, muttering, "I don't get you." He turned away and created distance between them, feeling an urge to pace. "You show up here without any sympathy or emotion, and next thing I know, you're..."

"I'm what?"

Hank stopped and faced him. He didn't know the end of that sentence, either. You're... not so bad? A friend? Human? Hank's mind kept going back to the day before the incident on the roof. Everything changed that day. Slowly, he asked, "Are you afraid to die, Connor?"

Connor hadn't expected the question. It was obvious by the stiff body language and the yellow LED. After a short time to gather his thoughts, he said, "It was not... pleasant the first time, Lieutenant. I certainly hope to avoid it in the future."

So was that it, then? Connor got scared? He had trauma and decided to think twice about not being a prick? Hank didn't pretend to be an expert on these things, but that sounded pretty human to him.

A ringing cellphone broke through the thick atmosphere, and Hank pulled it from his pocket. "What is it?"

Richards' voice came through from the other end. "Evening to you, too, Hank," He joked before letting out a long, weary sigh. "I thought I'd let you know we got the warrants."

Oh, more good news. Hank's expression sharpened as he snapped, "What happened to 'it'll take a few days?'"

"I was wrong!" Richards exclaimed. "We're getting started in the morning."

With a clenched jaw and no words, Hank hung up his phone and stuffed it into his pocket. He and Andy's situation was yet another matter for him to have to deal with, and the deadline to do it just got shorter. He couldn't have them send her off to Weaver without knowing if things were good between them. He stared out at the river for a moment, bitter. So much for peace.

"Richards got the warrants to go after Weaver," He informed Connor. Picking up his bottle from the bench, he started walking to the car.

Connor watched him leave, asking after a few seconds, "Where are you going?"

"To get drunker."