It's Not in My Programming

Four: Swag.

connor stares at the wall, LED spinning at a steady yellow. he sits perfectly still on the couch while hank stares at him from the kitchen table with his eyebrows furrowed. connor doesn't mean to worry hank, but he also doesn't feel like he needs to explain what he's doing inside his own head.

"are you alright over there?" the lieutenant asks hesitantly.

"i'm swag, how about you?"

a beat of silence passes, and hank blinks. "you're what?"

"swag."

hank rubs his face, turning away to get up and grab a snack from the cabinet.

connor accepts this social interaction as a success, storing the word into his long-term memory bank.

"what are your plans for after work?" hank asks, grabbing a fistful of cereal from a box and shoving it into his mouth.

"i have none, at the moment. i might see markus, or take sumo to the park." he decides.

hank nods as if to say he thinks that's a good idea, and then saunters back into his bedroom to get ready to go to the precinct. connor follows suit, walking over to a small chest in the corner of the living room that stores the few outfits that connor has. he's been meaning to ask hank if he could move into the spare bedroom in the back of the house, but he knows that room belonged to cole and hank might get aggressive. after extensive online research, connor concluded that humans often get upset about retiring or renovating the bedrooms of passed loved ones. connor understands, he really does, but he's tired of not having his own space.

once connor is dressed in plain denim jeans and a white button up with his favorite skinny tie, he has a seat back on the couch and awaits for hank to come back out. after nearly ten minutes, they finally make their way into the car.

just by looking around the DPD station, connor wouldn't have thought that anything would be out of the ordinary. gavin was having some coffee with other officers, fowler was in his office yelling at someone. everything seemed normal.

and it was normal. until about 3 in the afternoon when connor picked up a walking pattern that he knew all too well. turning around in his chair, he watched as an RK900 walked through the doors and directly to fowler's office.

hell no.

connor didn't have any personal experience with RK900, but what he did know was that he was created specifically to be better than connor and to replace him. the DPD couldn't be firing connor in order to hire RK900, right? wouldn't that be considered unethical thanks to the new american androids act?

"what is he doing here?" connor whispers, leaning towards hank at his desk. hank glanced over and gave a nonchalant shrug, turning back to his work.

"maybe he's getting hired."

connor's face quickly turned a light shade of blue from thirium, unsettled by the thought of another version of himself working here. a better version of himself working here. thankfully, it doesn't seem like connor is the only one who noticed him. gavin also had a face of shock, storming over to connor and hank's two desks.

"what the hell? why did you invite your little plastic twin to come in here? it's already enough to deal with you alone," detective reed grunted. connor opens his mouth to respond, but hank beats him.

"knock it off, asshole. connor has nothing to do with it. fowler probably just wants to have more around, since they're so helpful." hank shrugs again before a smirk takes over his face. "maybe you're getting your very own android partner."