"Hi, Henri," Ashley said this in her typically lighthearted voice. "How's the investigation going?"

"It's moving," Henri spoke this slowly as she turned in her desk chair to face Ashley. "I think we've made progress. Or at least we've found more questions that need answering."

"It's not easy," Ashley positioned herself at the edge of Henri's desk and started twiddling her fingers, "I wanted to be a detective when I was little, but I guess you're not a detective. FBI seems like it would be pretty cool though. Not that that's what matters anyway. I uh, I just think you're cool, ya know?"

"Alright, alright," Henri was modest when it came to taking compliments from others.

"No, really, you are." Ashley lowered her head as if she was disappointed about something. "You're smart and pretty and-"

"That's enough," Henri couldn't stand to hear more. "I get it."

"I'm sorry, I wasn't trying to offend you, Henri," Ashley responded in such a bashful manner. Henri was surprised this girl was even an officer to begin with. It didn't seem that Ashley had the thick skin that this job required; but then again, maybe the world needed more kindhearted police officers. "My-My parents are coming into town this Thursday. It was actually a bit of a surprise. They wanted to have dinner with me that night, but I have patrol duty. I cannot believe they came to see; it's actually a bit embarrassing."

"Why is that?" Henri noticed Ashley's thumb-twiddling ceased and she glanced at Connor who was sitting so prim and proper at his desk while ignoring the outside world.

"I told them-" Ashley was blushing so much she tried to hide it behind her hands. "-I told them there was this guy I really liked, but I shouldn't have said anything. I'm so stupid."

"Connor?" Henri couldn't help but grin at this even though it was a bit sad.

"I know he's not interested," Ashley's head drooped down even further. "I don't know what I was thinking. I shouldn't have said anything to them. It was so stupid."

"Have you ever asked him out?" Henri remembered Connor expressing that he wasn't interested in the girl, but it was hard to imagine he could ever be interested in someone in that sense.

"I know he's not into me," Ashley took a deep breath in and steadied herself. "Maybe I was dumb to think that an android would be interested in me. It doesn't matter anyway because I have a date tonight anyways."

"Moving on?" Henri was impressed by the girl's gumption.

"I just decided it was time," Ashley peered at Connor once more and exhaled. "I've been dropping hints for a few months now and it hasn't gotten me anywhere."

"If it's any consolation, I don't think anyone would get anywhere with him," Henri then looked over at Hank who was talking to Chris. "Except maybe Hank; I think he loves the guy."

"Oh my God, Henri," Ashley chuckled at Henri's statement. "I mean like, they have an adorable father-son relationship that's for sure."

"That's what I meant," Henri rolled her eyes, for she intended nothing else. "How about I do you a favour?"

"Huh, what?" Ashley was startled at this.

"You just said your parents are going to be here for Thanksgiving, but you're on duty that night. How about I cover you instead?" Henri almost felt guilty over offering to do a favour for someone; as if it was something she shouldn't have done. It was against her conditioning. "I'll ask the Captain. Maybe threaten him with my authority if I must."

"Don't do that," Ashley gasped at the idea.

"That was a joke," Henri frowned at Ashley's misunderstanding. "Remember, I can make jokes? I'm sure it won't be a problem. Besides, I am perfectly capable of going out on duty."


"Have you made any plans for Thanksgiving, Hank?" as Chris said this he snapped Hank out of his daze of staring at Henri from a distance.

"You know I don't have any family, Chris." Hank's reply was sharp, abrasive, bitter.

"Diane's parents are coming to town," Chris spoke this in an attempt to calm Hank's temper. "They're gonna see Damian for the first time. It'll be nice."

"That does sound nice," Hank reminisced about Thanksgivings spent with his family, but those dinners were long ago. "Have some catching up to do with the Detroit Pistons anyway."

"What about those two," Chris nonchalantly gestured in the direction of Connor and Henri. "They have any plans?"

"I don't know," Hank watched Henri's conversation with Ashley and saw Connor stiffly at his desk busy working away at who knows what. "Connor usually likes to watch sports with me, but I think he's more interested in my enjoyment than his own. Honestly, it can be a bit creepy sometimes."

"What about Agent Monroe?" Chris inquired further.

"As far as I know she doesn't have anyone," It saddened Hank to think that Henri had no one to go to on days like Thanksgiving. Did she have any living relatives or even maybe a partner? It was difficult to imagine the abrasive woman could get along with anyone or anything. "At least she hasn't mentioned anyone."

"Maybe you should invite her over," Chris answered. "Maybe she could use the company."

"No way," Hank ridiculed the suggestion. "I think she's perfectly happy on her own and in her own world. Besides, I'm sure she has better things to do than spend time with a sad old man and his android."

Hank wasn't under the impression that she was okay on her own. He had made the comment to her that she reminded him of Connor, but that was no longer true. She reminded Hank of himself. She was damaged and bruised and depressed. Even so, he never asked her what her plans were on Thanksgiving. Besides, what would he have had to say to her?


"Connor?" Henri apprehensively approached Connor who was parked at his desk. "I have a favour to ask you."

"Of course," he immediately directed all his attention to her. "Anything for you, Henri."

"I sent Officer Hayashi home tonight. His daughter has been extremely ill as of late and he was showing great concern for her-" and who was Henri to keep a kind father from his sick child? "-so, I thought maybe," She took a moment to sigh. "I thought maybe you could join me in his place."

"It's probably for the best," Connor had planned on going home to Hank, but he expressed annoyance at the idea. Usually Hank was grateful to have Connor join him in his viewing sports; however, Hank seemed increasingly frustrated as of recently. Connor considered the possibility that Henrietta could be Hank's source of exasperation. "For two reasons: Hank want's to be alone tonight and Hayashi should be taking care of his daughter."

"It's still strange to think about you living with Hank." Henri was grateful that he did though. The idea of having Connor around to keep Hank company was a comforting thought to her. "I mean, you get paid, right? You could afford to live on your own."

"It seems pointless to me," in truth, Connor wasn't sure how to cope in the world without Hank. Connor had become so reliant in his position that he couldn't imagine living without Hank. "I don't need my own bed or washroom. As I mentioned before, I own little as far as possessions go. And I-" he thought about Hank's suicidal tendencies. He thought about how Hank had saved his life. He thought about how he loved Hank.

"It's okay," Henri decided to not bother Connor with finishing his thought. "You don't have to explain. When you love somebody, you should hold onto them. I think, in a way, Hank needs you, too."

Connor's jaw dropped slightly, "I-I think we need each other. Although, I don't think I've ever admitted that publicly."

"Anyway," Henri took in a deep breath while saying this. "Are you available to join me?"

"Yes," Connor smiled. "Anything for you, Henri."

Anything? Henri wondered why Connor would say an odd thing like that.


Connor and Henri sat together in the stationary police cruiser surrounded by the silently falling snow in the chilly night. Henri had decided she was hungry, but of all the things she could have wanted, Connor found it peculiar that she desired tiny doughnuts.

Connor resolved to inform Henri on the specifics of her dietary choice, "Those doughnuts you're eating have approxi-"

Henri raised her right hand to shush Connor while shoving a small, powdery doughnut in her face with her other. "I'm not eating eat because it is healthy, Connor." she spoke this after swallowing the sugary delight.

"Then why eat it?" he pondered the idea that Henri might be suicidal herself. Hank would eat unhealthy food as a passive way to slowly kill himself, so maybe Henri did the same. Although, Henri didn't appear to be particularly unhealthy; unfortunately, there was no way for Connor to know.

"Because they taste good," Henri shrugged at him in a nonchalant manner, not even sure if it was the right answer herself. "Besides, they could be worse; at least they're vegan. I don't really eat that much anyway."

"I've noticed," Connor's sharp observational skills had caught on to her lack of sustenance consumption in the past. "I've never seen you eat until now."

"I eat when I'm off duty." she sighed remembering that she told Hank the exact same thing.

Connor waited until Henri finished eating her small doughnuts before pursuing another conversational topic. "I've seen that your relationship with Hank has improved. Or it seems that way. I've noticed you two are more frequently having private conversations. I had mentioned to Hank that I was troubled about your mental health, but he told me you were doing fine."

Henri whipped her head in Connor's direction trying not to look enraged, "My mental health? You were talking about my mental health?"

"You exhibit signs of depression, Henri." Connor wasn't sure it was the right thing to say, but there was a chance she had been waiting to talk about it with someone.

"I'm fine, Connor," she calmly lied.

Connor wasn't convinced, "I don't think you're telling the truth; however, I won't force you to talk about subjects that make you feel uncomfortable."

"You know I like your LED, too," Henri derailed the conversation.

"My LED?" Connor was curious why she would mention it so suddenly.

"When I asked you about your LED," Henri answered. "You said you kept it because you liked it. I like your LED, too. I like that you're not afraid to show people you're different."

"Thank you." Connor stuttered in his reply. "I like your hair." he figured it was only appropriate to reply with a compliment in kind. Not that his compliment was insincere; he truly did like her hair.

"My hair?" Henri looked stunned at his awkward comment.

"It is pleasant at its length of 27 inches and I enjoy that you wear it in a nontraditional fashion for an officer; having it draped down your shoulders instead of tied back," Connor considered that his complement might be too analytical, "And it smells nice."

"Oh," Henri chuckled a bit at his statement. "You know, it used to be a lot shorter. I joined the ACA when I was twelve and kept it cut very short up until my brief time with Special Forces."

"I didn't know you used to be a member of the ACA or Special Forces," Connor mused that maybe now was the time to ask Henri about her sealed past. "In fact, I know nothing about your past, Henri. Everything before your time with the FBI is considered classified data."

"It was a long time ago," Henri replied anxiously. "It doesn't matter now. But what about you, Connor? You seem to be pretty reserved about your involvement with the Android Revolution. We all know you set thousands of androids free from the Cyberlife Tower. You were supposed to be Cyberlife's last defence against deviancy. Guess it didn't turn out that way."

"It was Markus who saved me and set all androids free," Connor still felt guilty for what had happened. He almost killed a good man, the leader of the deviants, Markus. Instead, he betrayed Cyberlife and ultimately failed in his mission. "And Hank changed me, too. I'm happy that I have the freedom now to live my life how I please, but I'm still unsure of what I want. Emotions are difficult to handle, as I've mentioned before."

"What is your life now?" Henri asked.

Connor raised his eyebrows and his LED flashed yellow as he contemplated this query. "I want to be a good detective; a great detective. I want to-to… I want to understand and process my feelings. I want to help people. I want to-" he gazed into Henri's eyes, who was watching him intently.

"You want to?" she smiled at how honest and good his intentions were.

"I'm not sure," but he just didn't want to say it. "That necklace you're wearing," just like Henrietta did before him, Connor deviated from the topic. "Does it represent something? I took note that you always wear it."

Henri peered down at her gold star necklace and clutched it in her fist. "It was a present. My mother gave it to me when I was seven-years-old. I don't think I've ever taken it off. Not even after the accident. It's amazing it even survived; just like me."

"Accident?" Connor knew she spoke of another secret from her elusive past.

"Hey, look," Henri pointed at a man across the snow-filled street. The man was anxiously pulling at the doors of a tailor's shop. "I don't think that's his store."

"You're right," Connor spoke this as he exited the passenger side of the police cruiser.

Henri followed directly behind Connor as they advanced towards the bundled up man in the wintry evening.

"Excuse me," Connor shouted from a distance. "Can we offer you assistance?"

"Who's asking?!" the man barked at the two.

"Detroit Police," Connor held his badge up to the man.

"Dun look like no police ta me," the alert man scrutinized them and rightly so. Connor dressed as he always did in his black jeans and grey android jacket. Henri also lacked variety in her personal wardrobe; she dressed how one would typically suspect and FBI agent would. She wore the same thing every day: white blouse, black slacks, black jacket. Although in colder temperatures, like tonight, she would adorn a long, dark-grey pea-coat.

Henrietta stepped closer to the small, nervous man. "Back away from the door."

"I own dis place," the crook said rather unconvincingly. "I locked my keys up inside."

Henri noticed that the door had no automatic locking mechanism attached to it; it was locked solely with a manual deadbolt. "I think you're lying, sir."

"I'm not," he retorted as Henri watched his BPM increase to 143. "This is my store." the man began to reach under his jacket for something.

Connor frowned at this movement and placed his hand on his gun's holster. Henri didn't flinch when the man pulled a knife on her.

"Drop it," Connor commanded with his gun still not drawn.

Henri gave Connor a brief glance and stared back at the anxious man. "Put it away. What could you possibly gain from this situation? There are two of us and we both have guns. You won't get away."

"I just need to-" it seemed the man was on the verge of crying. "I just need something to help."

Both Henri and Connor analyzed the man's condition more thoroughly. He was experiencing symptoms of stage one withdrawl from his abuse of Red Ice.

"Put the knife down," Henri spoke calmly yet firmly.

"I need help," the man's BPM increased to 179; he was having a panic attack.

"We can help you," Henri opened her palms toward the man as a sign of trust. "But you need to put the knife down."

"I can't!" the man thrust the knife at Henri who was standing only three feet away from him.

His attempt to do any damage to Henri was quickly thwarted. She grabbed onto his lunging hand and twisted it backwards promptly snapping his wrist in half.

"Oh God, oh God," he tumbled to the ground while dropping the knife and sobbing. "Oh God, no."

Connor was disturbed by her show of impressive force. He couldn't help but find Henrietta baffling at times. He knew a kindhearted person lived inside of her, but it lived underneath a brutal shell. Was there any hope of cracking this shell she lived in?

"Take yourself to a hospital," Henri helped the squirming man to his feet who reluctantly allowed it to happen.

"We're not taking him in?" Connor was surprised by her behaviour again.

"Connor, look at him," she still held the nervous man up. "I think he's had a tough enough night as it is."

"Oh God, oh God," the man steadied himself and clenched his wrist with his other hand.

"Here," Henri handed him a small business card with her name and number on it. "I'll pay for your medical bills, okay?"

"Ca-call you?" his shaking hand reached out to grab the card.

"Yes," Henri peered down at the brooding man. "Get yourself the help you need, okay? Hospital's that way." she pointed south down the street.

"Okay," his BPM had gone down to 98.

He left the two cops on the snowy sidewalk and never looked back.

"Why did you let him go?" Connor asked as the two returned to the police cruiser.

"Connor, he had no criminal record," Henri replied as she opened the driver side door. "He hadn't done anything wrong yet. There are times in my past where I wish that someone had given me a second chance. If we were to take him in it could have destroyed his life. The man was clearly already struggling, so why make it worse?"

"He was committing a crime, Henri," Connor questioned what sense of justice Henri had. "It's our job."

"And you've never deviated from your path to save somebody?" she knew for a fact he had. "You've never gone against the rules to do what's right?"

"I can't defend myself," and Connor didn't want to because he knew she was right. "You did the right thing."

Maybe that shell could be cracked after all.


"And the bunny said to the robot: 'I look upon the stars and what do I see?'" Etta's mother then closed the hardback storybook titled The Bunny in The Moon.

"What did he see?" Etta asked this anxiously every night hoping her mother would tell her.

"I'm not sure," her mother kissed Etta's tiny, pale cheek. "What do you think?"

"More stars, I guess." but Etta was never satisfied with that answer.

"Yes," her mother giggled at this. "Yes, I suppose that's probably true."

"Mom," Etta spoke with sadness as she dipped her head. "Why didn't you get me a present for my birthday?"

"Oh Etta," her mother grasped Etta's small chin and lifted her head back up. "You think I would forget you?"

"Well, sometimes..." Etta recalled the times her mother had forgotten her. Her mother was always bad at remembering where she left Etta last, whether it be at school or in their own backyard. "Sometimes you forget."

"Honey," her mother cupped Etta's soft face in her hands. "Sometimes I get distracted, but you know I'll never forget you. You're my Etta. You're my little girl."

"Okay," Etta's worries were pacified by her mother's response.

"And I didn't forget," her mother charmingly smiled as she pulled a miniature box from her bathrobe's pocket. "I just wanted it to be an extra special surprise."

"Can I open it now?!" Etta exclaimed as she took the box from her mother's open palm.

"Yes, of course."

Inside the box was a tiny gold star hanging from a gold chain necklace. Etta pushed it between her two hands and studied a little engraving on the back.

"H.A.," Etta read off the small inscription. "What does that mean?"

"They're your initials, Etta," her mother responded. "Or what they would have been if things worked out differently."

"Henrietta….?" Etta paused hoping for her mother to fill in the rest.

"I'll let you know someday." her mother gave her another kiss, but on the forehead this time.

"Will you let me know what the bunny saw too, someday?" Etta was used to her mother's excuse of 'telling her someday'.

"Well I'm not sure what the bunny saw, but I think I know what the robot saw," her mother gently smiled as she tucked Etta in for the evening. "The robot saw the bunny when he looked to the stars. He saw the future that he would have with the bunny. He saw how happy the rest of his life was going to be with the bunny."

"But not the bunny?" Etta spoke panicking at the idea.

Her mother glowered, "Sometimes the ones we love don't love us back and we have to live with that. I know it's hard to understand and it hurts to think about it, but it's true."

"Like dad?" Etta frowned at her mother. "Did he leave because he didn't love me?"

"Etta," her mother's perky tone dropped. "I left him because he didn't love me and he wouldn't have loved you."

"Oh," tears swelled at the edge of Etta's fragile, grey eyes.

"We won't cry for him though, huh?" her mother clasped Etta's tiny body.

"No, we won't." but she cried under her mother's dainty arms. "We won't cry for him."