Stranger (ON CRACK)

Chapter 1

If (Y/n) kissed Connor in the first chapter:

"Good morning, detective." I heard as I entered the police station. I glanced down and to the side a bit and saw Hank's android partner, Connor.

"Connor." I acknowledged him quietly, heading to Hank's desk with files in my hand.

I tossed them onto the desk and then went all the way across the room to my desk. Connor had sat in Hank's chair and began going through the reports I wrote up for the drunken idiot. After a few minutes, I began to feel the headache from my hangover fading. A shadow was casted over my work and I looked up, my face centimeters away from Connor's.

"Detective, why do you write Anderson's reports for the cases?" He asked, but neither of us backed away. It was like we were playing a game of chicken, and I'm not a fuckin chicken. I grabbed Connor by his tie, making his eyes widen. "Detective, what're yo-"

I smashed my lips to his, the entire bullpen going silent. Someone dropped a pen and it was heard, that's how quiet it got. I kissed Connor, feeling him slowly begin to kiss back. Letting go of his tie, Connor hesitantly pulled away and I glared at him.

"I'm not a fuckin chicken." I muttered, getting a severely confused look in return.

What if (Y/n) called Gavin by Gayvin instead:

"He's weird... But whatever, it's fine." I hummed out as I made my desk look almost like the unused one next to Hank's. I looked around for Connor to ask him where Hank was, only to hear a soft thud from the break room. I got up and rushed to go see what happened. Gavin had punched Connor in the gut and sent him to the ground, afterwards growling something at him.

"Gay-- GAVIN NO." I shouted, rushing to the break room as quickly as I could. I ended up crashing into two chairs and a desk on the way over, giving Gavin time to be pissed. "Fuck, shit. Goddam- fuck!"

"You listen when a human gives you commands." Gavin seethed in anger as he went to grab his coffee off the table. "Quit calling me that."

"Gay-vin, fuck you. You didn't have to punch Connor. He was only following his programing. And he's right to not listen to a mutt like you." I huffed as I held a hand for Connor to use and get up.

(Y/n) if he had pointed out over doing things:

"But that's for Hank to write up." Connor tilted his head like a confused puppy. I glanced away for a moment, keeping down a small blush that was trying to rush to my face.

"Yeah, well he told me to do it." I muttered softly, getting a blank report paper out of a file on the case.

Connor's indicator blinked yellow for a few moments as his fist clenched for some reason. I ignored it and got a working pen out of my pocket. I started to write down word for word what Connor spoke to me. I assume the yellow light was him processing the events that happened last night and in the interrogation room. I was s bit suprised when I heard from Connor himself that he yelled at the deviant to get him a bit stressed. Once I was finished, I put the file on Hank's desk and got up.

"Did you have to shout at him so much, Connor?" I smiled softly at him and headed back to my desk.

"Who, Hank?" He tilted his head again. I shook my head. "Oh, the deviant. Yes, it was necessary to get the information."

"But you had to emphasize the number of stab wounds? How many times did you tell at him the number? Oh right, 8 times. Seriously, don't you think that's a little much?" I asked, my tone dark slightly. Mostly serious. Connor looked down in shame, shaking his head. I whispered softly, not sure if he heard me, "aw, puppy."