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In the months since Hank had taken in an android roommate, he had never before been the one waiting on the other to leave in the morning. It was always Connor passive aggressively reminding him how many minutes late they were going to be if Hank didn’t hurry up.
Hey, it used to be measured in hours, so Hank counted this as progress.
Still, it was weird to be the one waiting. Well, there was a first time for everything, he guessed. The Hell did an android do to get ready in the morning anyway?
“Hey, Connor, what is the fuckin’ hold up?” Hank folded his arms and leaned against the front door, swinging his car keys around his finger.
“I’m…coming, Lieutenant. Just a moment.”
Hank blinked at the hesitation in his voice. He stopped swinging his keys, catching them in his palm. Pocketing them, he stepped away from the door and crossed over to the closed bathroom door. The floor creaked a bit, announcing his approach, and he could practically hear Connor’s gears turning on the other side of the door.
“You all right?” he asked. “What are you doing in there?”
The door popped open in response, and Connor took one step forward before bouncing back, as though startled to see Hank standing there waiting on him.
“I’m fine.” He fidgeted, but Hank wasn’t listening.
The whole time he had known Connor, he had seen him wear exactly three things. That damn Cyberlife jacket. That undercover getup with that damn beanie. Those damn flannel pajamas that Hank had pushed at him after getting sick of watching him do his rest mode thing on the couch in that damn Cyberlife jacket.
Well, now he could add a fourth. It was a damn standard DPD uniform: a long sleeved dark blue shirt, dark blue pants, black tie, black belt, black shoes. All pressed to the nines, though clearly not as tailored to an exact fit as the Cyberlife jacket had been. Without the android identifier markings and coupled with the almost self conscious way that the kid fidgeted as Hank looked at him, it was uncanny how human Connor suddenly looked.
“Not bad,” Hank chimed, backing away and giving him a clear onceover. “You look good.”
Connor fidgeted with the cuffs on the shirt and awkwardly smoothed his tie. Hank glanced past him and could see the Cyberlife jacket, lying crumpled up and shoved against the wall on the floor. He frowned slightly but covered it up as Connor looked at him again.
“It…seems appropriate,” he said quietly.
“Oh?” Hank turned around, heading back toward the front door, hearing Connor follow after a beat. “That social integration thing kicking in again?”
Connor met him at the door, rubbing his arm where the glowing blue armband used to be.
“It’s difficult to blend in with humans when I’m wearing things that draw attention to the fact that I’m an android.”
“Yeah, and what about the uh…” Hank half turned back, tapping at his own temple.
Connor blinked once, lifting a hand and touching his LED. He looked briefly conflicted.
“I’m choosing to keep it for now. It’s part of me. I am not…trying to hide the fact that I’m an android. I shouldn’t have to.”
“Easy.” Hank lifted his hands in surrender. “No need to get defensive. I was just asking.”
Connor deflated a bit, eyes downcast as he followed Hank out to the car, locking the door after himself.
It was a quiet drive to the precinct, and Hank occasionally glanced at his partner out of the corner of his eye. Same straight spine posture. Same observant eyes scanning everything as they drove past it. Same deliberately docile expression. Just…without the hokey android uniform. Sitting in a way that Hank couldn’t see his LED, Connor looked like a real police officer.
He is a real police officer, Hank internally corrected, and a sting of anger at himself flared up.
Yeah, he liked to think he was past all of his old prejudices, but the little bastards just snuck up on him every so often. It was happening less and less, but he still hated that feeling afterward. Even if Connor clearly couldn’t read his mind, Hank still felt guilty for those old thoughts cropping up.
“You look good,” he repeated, trying to ease his conscience about the internal slip.
“My appearance was specifically designed by Cyberlife to—“
“No, not that—Jesus. I mean the uniform.” Hank gestured, pulling the car into the parking garage outside the precinct. “It suits you. Better than that damn android jacket getup anyway.”
“Oh…Th-Thank you, Lieutenant.” Connor looked down at himself, his expression a little clouded.
Hank clenched his jaw once, twice, and put the car in park. He killed the engine but didn’t immediately get out of the car. Connor took his cue and also waited, looking at him warily.
“Connor.” Hank stared through the windshield momentarily, then made himself look over at his partner. “You’re a damn good detective, you know that?”
Connor looked a little thrown. “I appreciate you saying that, Lieutenant.”
“More people should say it more often. You’ve been with the DPD for nearly six months now, and while you don’t have a Before to compare the Now to, I do.” Hank turned in his seat to look at him sternly. “Things are going better for the force since you decided to stick around. The cases are going better. The paperwork is going better. The bullpen is doing better. The team is better for having you on it. Okay?”
The android’s expression was puzzled. “Why are you telling me this, Hank?”
Hank huffed and sat back in his seat. “Because you look like you feel naked without all those Cyberlife bumper stickers all over you, like you haven’t earned this uniform here.” He reached over and pinched some of the loose fabric on Connor’s sleeve. “Trust me, you earned this more than some of the humans that wear it. Don’t let any of those assholes tell you different.”
Some weight seemed to lift from Connor’s shoulders, and while his expression didn’t clear completely, he did relax slightly.
“Thank you,” he said, with so much sincerity that Hank wanted to puke.
“…Okay, shit, enough of that.” Hank turned and opened his door, finally climbing out of the car.
Connor more gracefully got out on the passenger side, and the two walked across the garage and entered the precinct office.
Yeah, they were about fifteen minutes late, and Hank normally wouldn’t have given a rat’s ass. However, he felt Connor get more stiff with each step into the bullpen, and he abruptly realized why. You get to work early enough, you become part of the background as everybody else filters in later. You come in late, it’s noticeable. You come in late, there are more eyes to see you walk in. Maybe even see you come in wearing something new and different…maybe when you didn’t really want to make an entrance to draw attention to it.
Shit, sorry, kid, Hank scolded himself as Connor stuck to the wall a bit. It was almost funny how he managed to keep Hank between himself and the rest of the officers on shift. Not that any of the other officers even looked up. It was still too early in the morning to make eye contact with each other, not without more coffee at least.
Hank settled in at his desk, logging into his terminal and casting a quick eye around the bullpen. Fowler was in his office already. Ben was in the break room with Gavin. Tina was having some kind of religious experience with her coffee mug at her desk. Chris and Wilson were both already working. Person had her chair turned so her back was facing them.
They didn’t give a shit, and maybe today that was okay. Connor was already being weird and skittish about the change in uniform. The less attention he got today, probably the better.
One long, catcalling whistle fluttered across the office.
Well, so much for that.
“Connor, my dude.” Tina stood from her desk, coffee mug in both hands as she sauntered over. “Nice duds. Finally got rid of that android jacket, huh?”
Connor was sitting very still and very tall in his chair, looking at Tina defensively. “Cyberlife has ceased to exist as a corporate entity for a number of months now. It didn’t seem necessary to continue wearing their logo.”
“Yeah, but you didn’t decide to…” Tina trailed off, making a vague gesture to her bicep and chest, where android markings would be on a standard android police uniform. She abandoned the gesture and flicked her wrist.
“No.” Connor remained rigid. “It was my understanding that android identifiers were no longer a requirement of the dress code.”
Tina smirked, but after a beat it smoothed into a more natural smile. “Good for you, Terminator.”
Hank watched a kaleidoscope of surprise, relief, contentment, paranoia, self consciousness, detachment, and then back to relief wash across Connor’s face.
Chris had heard the whistle and made his way over too.
“Good morning, guys, Lieutenant.” He nodded respectfully.
Hank waved him off with a sour look.
Chris grinned and looked at Connor. “Don’t worry about it, man. It suits you.”
Hank’s sour expression turned grateful, and he hoped Chris caught it.
Connor fidgeted with his coin in his left hand. “Thank you, Officer Miller, but I am not trying to seek attention with this wardrobe change. I am only utilizing this as a method to blend—“
“Blend in with the humans,” Tina and Chris parroted playfully.
“Why don’t you all get back to work?” Hank teased. “This ain’t a fashion show.”
Chris snorted and drifted back to his desk. Tina lingered a bit, just enough to give Connor a onceover and shake her head.
“God, you’re pretty.”
“Tina.” Hank tried to sound stern, but a laugh hiccupped out of him at her statement.
Connor blinked at her and slowly swiveled his head to look at Hank. “You said I had a goofy face and a weird voice.”
It was Tina’s turn to laugh at that, putting a comforting hand on his shoulder.
“No, trust me. You’re pretty, and the uniform only helps.” She winked and clucked her tongue. “It also helps if you stand next to Lieutenant Grumpy all the time.”
“Oh go to Hell, Chen. I think I’m dashing.” Hank folded his arms and looked down his nose at her.
Tina cackled and returned to her desk, just as Ben and Gavin were leaving the break room. At her desk, Person made eye contact with Connor. She raised one thumb up in approval, her deadpan expression never changing. She then immediately went back to work.
Connor looked like he was finally loosening up, which of course couldn’t be left unprovoked…
“Whoa, who let the toaster have a real uniform?” Gavin sneered, flopping into his chair and propping his feet up on his desk.
“Gavin, it is too early for your bitching already,” Wilson grumbled from his work station.
“Nah, this is leftover bitching from yesterday. I’m good.” Gavin sipped at his coffee, looking over at Connor again. “Decided to play dress up today, Robocop? Wish upon a star to turn you into a real boy?”
“Gavin, will you just shut—“ Hank stopped when Connor subtly lifted a hand, indicating for Hank to drop it.
Luckily, Tina didn’t get the indicator.
“Like you’re one to critique anybody’s clothing choices, Gavin. You look like you crawled out of another dumpster fire.”
Gavin pouted at her, and she just stuck her tongue out at him. Nobody else was rising to his bait however, least of all Connor, so his snark soon dried up. Hank waited until Gavin had gotten distracted by his caseload before looking at Connor again.
“Ignore him.”
“I always do.” Connor kept his eyes on his terminal, interfacing and looking eager to dive into work now that that was over. “I’ve decided he’s just jealous.”
Oh, this Hank had to hear.
“Really?” he asked innocently. “How so?”
Connor turned his head enough to meet Hank’s eyes, and the self consciousness of the morning seemed to finally melt away. In its place, the android gave him the most shit-eating grin that Hank had ever seen him wear.
“I’m prettier than he is.”
Hank flew back in his chair with a hard laugh. “Atta boy.”