That evening Hank went for a long walk with Sumo, from time to time he took little sips of whiskey from a hip flask. It was cold but Sumo didn't seem to mind, he sniffed at every tree and tried to chase after a cat on the other side of the street.

"Stop it you dumb dog! You're too old for this shit," said Hank fondly.

Back at home he realised once more that his small house was a mess. He tidied a little before giving up and sitting down in front of the TV with a six-pack.

He watched an old championship match from 1998 – Chicago Bulls vs. Utah Jazz. He knew every pass and every score of this game. He had watched it countless times … always after a particularly hard case. Some shrink would probably be able to tell him why he had the need to watch the same game over and over again – but he didn't give a fuck as long as it made him calm. It did work, didn't it? That was all that mattered.

-0-

The next morning he got up when the alarm clock went off instead of tapping on the snooze button. His head hurt but he nonetheless went to the shower and made himself ready. Connor would be punctual. Plastic crutch, huh? He would show them.

When he arrived at 8:32 at the office he felt good. He yawned when he sat down at his desk, after scrolling through two new emails concerning the precincts Christmas party he decided to get a coffee before beginning to work.

At the doorway to the break room he stopped. Gavin and some of his friends were sitting at a table, grinning at Connor who stood in front of them – hell, does Gavin actually work sometimes or does he just guzzle coffee? And why was Connor here?

"Fuck look at that … Our friend the plastic detective is back in town! Congratulations on last night, very impressive!" sneered Gavin.

Hank couldn't see Connors face but he was certain that there was again this strange twitch in the corner of its mouth. "Hello, Detective Reed," Connor said.

One of the uniformed cops narrowed his eyes. "Never seen an android like you before … What model are you?"

Hank almost scoffed – as if wasn't written clearly on Connor's uniform. Detroit's fines indeed … He crossed his arms and leaned against the doorway.

"RK800. I'm a prototype."

"A prototype?" Gavin turned to Tina Chen who was sitting next to him. "Android detective. So machines gonna replace us all, is that it?"

He directed his glance again at Connor. "Hey, bring me a coffee, dipshit," he suddenly said.

Connor just stood there, then Gavin said loudly: "Get a move on! Two sugars."

The android turned on his heel and walked over to the coffee machine. The scene makes Hank uneasy and he pushed himself away from the doorway.

The machine had finished pouring out the coffee and Connor brought the steaming mug to Gavin. Gavin smirked and stood up, looking from the mug to Connor with an air of superiority. The other cops got up as well and began to walk away. Tina frowned a little before she left, brushing past Hank without saying anything.

Connor awkwardly stretched its hand with the mug out. It looked eager as alway. Gavin glanced at Hank before swatting the mug away, coffee spilled on Connor's hand and the floor.

"Hey!" said Hank. "That's unnecessary!"

Gavin's eyebrow rose. "Well, if it isn't Geppetto."

Hank snorted. "Pinocchio jokes, really? I bet you worked on that sad little pun the whole night."

Gavin grimaced and left. Connor was looking at Hank.

"Good morning, Lieutenant," it said cheerful.

"Let's clean this up," sighed Hank and pulled a handkerchief from his pocket. He took the mug out of Connors hand and put it on the table next to them. He wiped quickly across Connor's hand, to his surprise it felt warm. Hank let quickly go and grabbed the mug to put it into the sink next to the coffee machine. He glanced over his shoulder.

Connor still stood where he had left it, looking with something like curiosity at him. Hank sighed and fixed himself a coffee.

-0-

They visited two crime scenes in the morning – as it turned out Connor's overview really helped to use their time efficiently. Both cases were closed quickly as they were only about androids that had been destroyed by anti-android activists.

It was almost noon when they returned to Hanks car. Hank wiped the snow from his jacket and coughed as he got into the driver's seat. He fiddled with the heater and started the engine as soon as Connor had gotten into the car too. He activated the wiper and accelerated slowly.

"It's fucking freezing, aren't you cold?" asked Hank.

"Androids register temperature but we don't feel it like humans do. My bio-components would only be damaged if I were to remain more than three hours in sub-zero temperatures."

"But your hand was warm this morning."

"Yes, studies have shown that humans didn't like androids that were cold. And it helps to prevent Thirium from clumping." Connor straightened his tie. "It used to be a problem in older models."

"Well, it's also a problem in older human models."

"According to my files the cause for clogged blood vessels is unusually unhealthy food."

"Speaking of which," said Hank and turned on the blinker as he stopped across from his favourite fast-food joint. "Time for lunch."

-0-

The neon sign 'Chicken Feed' flickered a little when Hank stepped to the counter of the food truck. He could hear Connor walking behind him. The counter itself had old sauce stains on it and he was pretty sure that the place wouldn't pass a health inspection. But Hank didn't care. It felt authentic.

"The usual, Gary," said Hank and rubbed his hands together. It really was fucking freezing.

Gary, a burly man in a white apron, gave a non-committal grunt and began to put together a hamburger. His co-worker, a skinny teen with acne, put the fries into the fryer and eyed Connor.

She pointed to a sign: 'Real people at work'. "No androids allowed."

"It's with me," said Hank.

"Just take it with you when you leave then."

"Don't worry, it follows me everywhere … like a poodle."

Gary handed him the burger and the fries. "I never thought you were the kind of guy to buy one of them."

Hank swiped his credit card against the wireless payment symbol. "I didn't. They sent me this piece of plastic for a partner." He nodded at them before he crossed the street to get back to his car. With a low grunt he let himself fall into the seat and started to unwrap the burger.

Of course Connor followed him back. "Do you eat here often?"

Hank took a bite and chewed. "Gary makes the best burgers in Detroit."

After a moment of silence Connor spoke again: "Can I ask you a personal question?"

Hank continued eating and nodded. It was not like he could stop Connor anyway.

"Why do you hate androids so much?"

That again. "I have my reasons." He devoured the last bit of the burger and started with the fries. "I thought you guys don't have emotions, why does it bother it so much?"

"We don't have emotions. But as you pointed out: There are things I like and there are things I don't like. And I try to understand you."

"What's there to understand?"

"It's obvious that you don't like me. But Detective Reed's behaviour this morning seemed to bother you."

Hank scrunched the wrapping up and threw it in the back of the car. Connor was right of course, it had bothered him. Hank didn't know why he had spoken up … it had just felt wrong. Cruel even.

"I just thought it was unfair. It's not like you chose to be here." As soon as the words had left his mouth he realised that the same logic could be applied to him. Calling Connor names, ordering it get a pizza … was he really different from Gavin?

Hank turned the engine on. Today was the 9th of November … He was just getting hung up on things. There was no need to overthink things.

-0-

Back at the precinct they worked on files and filed evidence in the archives. Hank had to admit that Connor really expedited the paper work – in just four hours he had gotten so much work done like in two ordinary work days.

Well, he thought to himself while leaning back in his chair. There was a reason why they want to replace people with machines. Cold ruthless efficiency.

His sights fell on Connor across of him. Cold and ruthless weren't terms he would describe Connor with of course. It was rather good at being non-threatening with its goofy voice and its youthful face.

He sighed and pushed his chair back. Time to go to Jimmy's – he had deserved a little something after all the work.

Connor looked up, before it could get up Hank lifted his hand. "I'm calling it a day."

It blinked. "Of course, Lieutenant. See you tomorrow." Connor turned its attention back on the computer.

Hank gulped down his whiskey and gave a nod to Jimmy before he left the bar. He felt pleasantly relaxed and warm – it didn't even bother him that it was snowing again. And why should it? He would just call a taxi.

Outside he fumbled in his jacket until he found his smartphone in his jacket. He cursed under his breath when he realised that once again it had run out of battery. He considered for a brief moment to use the old phone in Jimmy's bar but then he remembered that he had seen one of the old regular guests go to the phone just minutes before. Poor Claus … since his ex-wife had blocked his calls and his messages he sometimes tried to call her with Jimmy's phone. Hank was in no mood to get his buzz killed either by listening to Claus fighting with his ex.

He would just walk to the precinct and call a taxi from there. Hank put his gloves and began walking. He put a chewing gum in his mouth before he entered the precinct.

Connor was of course still working. It gave Hank a real smile when it saw him. Hank frowned.

"Since when can you smile like that?" he blurted out.

"My heuristic routines have collected enough data to produce a smile of my own," replied Connor eagerly.

"Took you long enough."

"Well, it wasn't easy since you were my primary contact."

Hank barked a short laugh. "Good one."

"Have you decided to work a bit more?" asked Connor.

"Nah, I'm just calling a taxi. My phone is empty."

"I could drive you," suggested Connor.

Hank registered that it hadn't even asked why he wasn't driving himself. He could feel heat crawl up his cheeks.

"Otherwise you would've to use another taxi tomorrow – it's not efficient," continued Connor.

That was true … Hank hadn't thought about the next morning. It would be convenient if he had his car.

"Well, if you don't mind doing it," said Hank and threw Connor the keys.