Comfort Zone (Connor x Reader)

Thirty-Six

"As of right now, here's the plan: Gavin and I will go to the crime scene, do our thing, the usual. Might distract the bar for a bit, and that should be enough to get the two of you inside with little hassle." Sitting back in his chair, Hank laced his hands together, resting them on his abdomen. "Right now we've got a couple officers blocking the scene until everyone is ready to go. It's already getting dark, so it's now or never, folks."

While he stood off to the side to talk with Reed, you, Seán and your two prototypes returned to your desk. You reached and laid a hand on Connor's arm. "I don't know how much you know about motorcycle gangs already."

"Very little, Detective," he replied, shrugging a touch. "Anything you tell me will be stored, however."

"Okay, well, I hope you're a real quick learner." Your train case was set aside to be taken with you when you changed, while Seán held up a leather vest with multiple patches attached. "Connor, listen closely," you murmured, taking the vest. "Members wear these as a sign that they've been accepted as part of the gang. They're labeled either colors or cuts, it depends on the gang; the one you and I are from label them as colors." The vest was turned to show the oversized patch on the back, depicting what looked like a metal skeleton on a chopper. Strangely fitting. "Steel Riders, Buffalo chapter. You wear that and do not take it off."

Taking said "colors", the RK800 was soaking up all the details you gave him. But Seán tapped his shoulder, diverting his attention. "Gonna need a name, Con. Members are given nicknames once they're accepted, usually something personal. Any ideas? We can come up with somethin', too."

Much to everyone's surprise, Connor already had an idea. "Judas."

The three of you stared blankly at your Roomba, but Cloud spoke first. "Appropriate. Android being accepted into a gang like this, you would most certainly be an outcast. Almost a traitor to your own kind, so to speak." He took a small patch from Seán and turned away to do God knew what.

Your Irish friend was busy going through the options for clothing he'd brought, but you were still staring at the RK800. ".... you had an answer immediately. I'm... That's really fucking impressive."

Connor only gave his crooked smile again. "I did my homework on the way here, Detective. While it was difficult to obtain enough information, I did learn that nicknames are vital. I feel I chose one tailored to my unique situation."

How and why is that so attractive?

"Right! Connor, my boy, show me where we can de-Connor you. Gonna be a hell of a lot different than the nightclub, that's fer sure." Grinning wide, Seán had a bag of whatever the RK800 was going to wear, gently pushing the android away from your desk. "Cloud, come on, might need your help, too."

The three men left down the hallway, probably towards the locker room. Closing your eyes, you allowed yourself a moment to mentally brace for whatever the fuck you were taking the inexperienced android into.

"We've got a guy at the door, sweetheart," Hank interjected your moment of peace. "One of our, uh... loose cannons or whatever. Not on the force, but... whatever, never mind. Big dude, tattoo on the right side of his neck. Looks like a knife wound. When you get there, ask him where the hell Anti is. He'll know you're with us and let you in."

Nodding, you picked up your train case and the oversized bag, hurrying to the locker room on the opposite side of the mens'.

■□■□■

You trusted both Cloud and Seán to get the job done; they had a ton of experience, they would turn Connor into someone no one would recognize.

But you didn't think it would take longer than you had, even with the makeup you used. The sound of heels was no longer foreign in the precinct, and yours were more boots anyway, but heads turned for a completely different reason as you returned. Shit, even Hank tipped his head as he stared. Standing near his desk, you looked back and forth between the lieutenant and Gavin, who couldn't seem to lift his gaze higher than your waist. "Sweetheart, my eyes are up here," you teased gently.

"--FUCK, FUCK, SORRY, HOLY SHIT!!" His face rivaled that of a ripe tomato, turning away partially as he fidgeted constantly. "Jesus, I'm so sorry, that was fuckin' gross... Cara mia, I... fuck..."

Your grin just widened as he drowned in his flustered state. "Gavin, it's fine. These jeans always get stares." They were essentially painted on, so it was no wonder Reed couldn't look away: they made your lower half look flawless. The leather jacket and colors didn't show much up top anyway, so that was enough to balance.

"I don't think you'll have to worry about being stared at. Jesus fucking Christ, that can't be him." Hank spoke sharply, actually standing up to get a better look behind you.

Like when the RK900 initially arrived, people stared openly. This time Hank, Reed and yourself were included in that category. It was no wonder Cloud and Seán seemed so... proud.

Connor's appearance was similar to your own, minus the makeup and heels, of course. But his motorcycle boots were heavy and loud on the precinct floor, drawing just as much attention as you had. It was unusual seeing the detective in anything outside of his gray android jacket, but Seán had coaxed him into actual jeans and a t-shirt, with his colors on top. Cloud had swiftly altered the small patch for Judas, who held his leather coat behind one shoulder.

"..... what the actual fuck happened," Gavin spoke up first. "Who the fuck are you and what have you done-- IS THAT A PIERCING?!"

Unable to hold it back, Connor smiled, looking down sheepishly. "In a manner of speaking, yes. I cannot physically have tattoos, and this was an alternative." There was an honest-to-goodness piercing in one eyebrow.

"I've discovered that while an android body rejects tattoo ink, piercings heal immediately around the metal with no complications. He can remove it and there will be no trace." Cloud grinned, hands behind his back.

"This is..... so fucking weird," you admitted, not wanting to stare yet unable to look away. "I mean, you don't look like you, that's for sure."

"It's goddamn amazing, but I'm worried he'll still be recognized," the lieutenant chimed in. He frowned a touch. "That LED will say enough. Sorry, kid, but there's no mistaking your face."

"Already thought of that," Seán replied, reaching and pulling a bandana from his pocket. He spoke as he folded it carefully. "Seen plenty of bikers wear these to help against them sweating when it gets hot. It ain't weird for them to just wear one year round. Come here, Con." The fabric was tied around the RK800's head, where it looked rather natural... and covered his LED. "We ain't sure if that place has shit against androids, anyway."

"I have my own solution, as well," your partner murmured. But he turned to the Connor-less predecessor. "Our parts are compatible." A few seconds passed before both reached to remove their right eye.

There was a chorus of disgust, their audience looking away while the pair literally exchanged an eye. That left your Roomba with one dark eye and one a bright blue. His soft smile returned, widening when you approached. "Will this work, Detective?"

You took a deep breath, looking him over once more. "I personally think it will, but now it absolutely has to.... Judas."