I was thinking about the RK900 X Reader, and just was like: You know what? Screw it, I'm doing it.
It would be published as soon as this book is done.
Also, this story is going wayyy too fast. It's only Chapter 6, and we are halfway through Connor's story.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The ball bounced back to your hand as you threw it to the ground.
You were few feet away from your desk, leaning against your chair lousily as you threw the ball to the ground. It went flying to the edge of your desk, then at you. From there, you grabbed the ball mid-air, and the cycle started again.
Soon enough, you threw the little toy at the wrong angle, missing the edge when it bounced back up. You didn't bother picking it up and try again. You simply just stared at it as it rolled away. As soon as it slowed down and finally came to a stop, you averted your gaze, hoping to find something else to keep you entertained as you waited. Even Reese's obnoxious curses as he spilled piping hot coffee on himself (which you would usually laugh and told him to suck it) didn't seem to get a single reaction out of you.
Wait... Reese? Reed? Weed? Eh, you don't care. His ego was too big to be stored in your memory. You could barely remember his name.
"I believe this is yours, Detective."
Your little (f/c) baseball completely filled up your field of vision. From the corner of your eyes, you could see the uniform (which was a huge giveaway as to who it was) of the voice's owner, but you knew exactly who it was even before you caught the sight of his attire.
"Mmhm," you hummed, having no intention whatsoever to make it seem like you cared. You only lifted your hand to grab your possession from the android and did the cycle of throwing and catching once again.
When Hank pulled the trigger without a second thought, he didn't realize that Connor was standing right beside him— not in front of him. While you were relieved that no blue blood was spilled, the events of last night was still fresh in your mind.
Those Traci... even if they're just androids I just...
You furrowed your eyebrows as you threw the ball with a much greater force, earning a rather perplexed expression from Connor. You didn't care, of course.
They just seem so... real.
"Detective, may I ask you a question?"
You blinked once (or maybe twice. Who keeps track on the amount they blink, anyway?) at the words of Connor and raised your eyebrow, but your gaze remained on the toy. Connie assumed that your expression was waiting for him to go on.
"... Where did you get the nickname 'Pancake'?" As soon as the last word left his mouth, the ball stopped in your hand. The rhythm of hitting and bouncing ceased.
"...." for a while, you didn't say anything. The embarrassing events that led to that nickname came flooding back, and you didn't enjoy it one bit. ".... It's nothing. Just... something stupid that Hank came up..."
"It seemed that everyone is fond of calling you that."
You sneaked a glance towards Connor, who stood there, awaiting your response patiently.
"What's it to you, anyways?" You growled, throwing the ball on the desk, no longer interested in it. However, it ended up rolling away, inevitably falling off the edge. Again, you didn't care.
"I was just curious," he said, grabbing the baseball for you and placed it on your desk gently and carefully so that it would stay still and not run away.
"Well, curiosity kills the cat, Connor," you said, wishing to end the conversation right then and there. You didn't like conversing with the prototype whatsoever.
Thankfully, he didn't try push the dying and awkward conversation on and leave it there. Upon hearing silence from him, you opened your phone and just went on a website that totally does not contain fanfictions, ignoring the android.
As you scrolled through the contents, Connor once again spoke up, "Pancake... I like the sound of it. It sounds.... sweet."
You froze and immediately looked up.
Wha?
You tilted your head for clarification. He simply smiled. However, despite being with him for only a few days or less, you knew better than to take it as a compliment. You assumed it was probably programmed for him to smile or something. Either way, it didn't seem genuine.
Still....
You sighed, glaring at the ground, "... It was just a stupid coincidence," for a second, Connor was confused. "I made some stupid comment about 'nearly becoming a pancake' and then someone threw a stack of pancakes right at me."
That day was the worst day of your life. A near-death experience on your first few months in the station and then having to remove the sticky syrup from your face and (the worse of all) hair? Ugh.
Your nickname came to be when you had returned from a troublesome case that had happened in a construction site. You came back to the station to report to the captain about what had happened. When a close friend of yours here in the station saw your ghost-like expression, she, with a concerned tone, asked you what was wrong.
"I was nearly turned into a pancake," you said, remembering when a piece of the construction broke off and fell on the ground. It was few inches away from landing on you. The noise of the debris as it slammed against the ground made your heart jumped out of its place, and when you had realized what nearly happened, you were just simply speechless and stunned. Needless to say, you have never taken a step closer to that spot ever again.
It was meant to be an exaggeration—something to take away the seriousness in that situation and to lighten it up for your own sake. However, just as the words left your mouth, one of the new recruits came hurrying with their breakfast take-out from a local fast food— which has happened to be pancakes. He tripped, and the pancake flew right at you.
Hank laughed the loudest, leaning back against his chair so far as the legs of the chair struggled to maintain its balance. The rest had a fun time laughing, you were just there pouting and sulking. The nickname "Pancake" started with Hank, and it spread around the station soon after.
It wasn't a pretty day for you.
"Oh..." was all Connor could say at first. He looked away for a while, his LED turned from its usual blue to yellow, as if he was taking in the new information. "That was... unfortunate."
"Mmhm," you placed the phone on your table and stretched your arms. "You could say that again."
Why am I talking about this with an android again? Specifically him?
His ungrateful words toward you was something you could never forget. That night, you were beyond furious. You were trying to reason everything out (despite the tense relationship you have with him), yet all he gave a cold response instead of a "thank you".
Though... looking at him now...
It didn't seem that he was the same android as last night.... like he changed modes or something.
"I have just gotten a report about the Stratford Tower," Connor said suddenly, looking at you. You furrowed your eyebrows. "It's perhaps for the best that we should leave now."
"And... what about Hank?"
You thought the mention of the lieutenant would make the android a little uncomfortable, or would at least get some sort of reaction out of him, but he seemed unfazed.
"I'll be sure to contact him. Or, if you like, we can go and look for Lieutenant Anderson ourselves."
You pondered for a while, humming slightly at his suggestion, "Yeah sure, whatever. Just wait for me here."
You stood up to leave, perhaps going to the restroom. You left your phone on the your desk, and it was still open. Connor took a look at it, noticing that you're still on a website, and there was a verification that popped up in your screen.
'I'm not a robot.'
"........"
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The tension in the air was far worse than you thought. You, Connor, and Hank were in the elevator, waiting for it to take you to the floor where you needed to go. Connor did his coin tricks to kill time (it was the only source of sound), but even then, it was quiet.
You shifted at the corner of the elevator, ignoring the awkward atmosphere hanging in the air. You didn't know if being trapped in a small cube with both of them is much better than being trapped with just one of them. Connor was obvious. Hank, although tolerable, wasn't the best choice either seeing that your uh... "conversation" with him didn't end well last night.
With both? Though there was another person to make the situation less awkward... it didn't exactly help much with the tension.
If anything, you were sure that the relationships between the three of you were beyond repairable. Everyone could see that.
".... Why did you try to shoot me, Lieutenant?" Connor spoke up, killing the silence.
(Ain't the only thing he killed—)
Hank never liked how Connor would try to engage in a conversation with him. This time was no different. "That doesn't matter now, does it? You're here, still alive," Hank said, before he perked up and continued with a sarcastic (and a feigned apologetic) tone. "Ah, I'm sorry, you're not alive. I forgot about that."
All stopped talking then.
Soon enough, the elevator opened, giving you a sudden urge to claim your freedom as soon as possible. You impatiently waited for the two to walk out before you stepped out yourself. Though Hank and Connor were the first to step out, you quickly became the one walking in front of them.
Chris greeted you as you stepped out.
"They attacked two guards on way. Two probably thought the androids came to do maintenance... got taken down before they could react."
You listened closely to the details— everything that may help you in the investigation. Your eyes caught several FBI agents in the area, and your mood plundered even more.
Well, guess it can't be helped. It is a serious case, after all. You don't just trust a possible national threat situation to a random local police department.
You entered the studio, eyes looking around the place.
Definitely more things to explore. If there's anything that we can get out of this to find even a single detail about the deviants who did this, then it would be fine. Just as long as the evidence doesn't lead you to nowhere.
"Oh, Lieutenant, this is Special Agent Perkins from the FBI," Officer Miller introduced, gesturing towards the agent himself. Hank simply nodded in recognition at the agent, though the agent didn't seem too please.
"You? A lieutenant?" Perkins chuckled at Hank from head to toe, displeased by his appearance. "I suppose the DPD ran out of good human police to offer the place of a police lieutenant?"
Hank's mood immediately dropped, "Keep talking and we'll see about the news about androids replacing you guys in a few years."
Perkins seemed amused, his smile widened slightly at Hank's reaction. His glance landed on Connor, and he raised his eyebrow, "And what's this? Android investigating androids, huh?"
Connor (ignoring Perkins's comment) was about to introduce himself, but Hank stopped him.
"At least it's doing a better job than all of you," You said, walking into the conversation. Normally, you wouldn't praise Connor like this, but the moment you heard Perkin's voice, you already questioned the world as to why this guy exists. Connor looked at you, unsure of what to say at your uh... compliment.
"Not until it backstabbed you all," the agent readjusted his gloves as he glared at Hank. "Listen. This isn't a place for some fun and games. Leave it to the experts. Don't mess up my crime scenes."
And with that, he turned and left.
"The world better regret its decision for letting him live..." Hank spat bitterly, secretly flipping the bird at Perkins.
"Oh I'm sure it does," you said, rolling your eyes as you crossed your arms.
Now that I realized it... This is my first conversation with Hank today... Huh. Bonding over our hatred towards Perkins... who would've thought?
You examined the bullet holes then the blue blood on the wall. No information to get as a human. You have to wait for Connor to.... lick the blood to see what android it was that came here.
I suppose Perkins do have a point... androids are starting to fill in the jobs of other people due to their perfections, skills, and immediate and accurate calculations. All are hardworking and determined.
You glanced at Connor, who was analyzing the room.
He, too, is the same. Hardworking and reliable when it comes down to catching a deviant, you'd give him that, but he's an android. If he were to slack off (if androids can do that at all that is..), he would immediately be deactivated for being useless.
And there is just one other problem about him as well that bothered both you and a certain lieutenant...
You shook your head at the thought.
Now's not the time. Focus.
You turned to the screen, which was playing the speech of the mysterious android.
"We ask that you recognize our dignity, our hopes and our rights."
You stared at it. Conflicted. Confused.
You tried to focus and see if you find anything useful, but your ears were filled with messages of equal rights and freedom.
Ever since the Eden Club— Those Traci... You didn't know how to feel towards the androids. You disliked them (well, to be more specific, the deviants), but they just... seem so alive. And the speech... it was like a peaceful declaration, not a war.
Maybe I was wrong about them— No, no come on now, (Y/n). Stop feeling sympathetic. You're assigned to assist Anderson with deviant cases. Now's not the right time. Besides, take a look at Connor. The fact that he doesn't care about anyone but his mission... you think that's alright?
You took a look at the security cameras.
Wait a minute... they didn't break in?
You looked back at the door, then at the camera, "How come the staff wasn't alarmed and aware of it?"
Connor, attracted by your question, immediately went over to check, "May I check?"
"Take a look," You moved slightly for Connor to watch properly. Four androids were hiding, waiting for the door to open. "One should have find it suspicious that they're hiding like this— with guns, in fact."
"They aren't in a dead angle... the staff should have seen them..." Connor furrowed his eyebrows as he turned the chair in front of him around.
'ANDROID'
"Where are the androids right now?" He turned to one of the officers.
"The androids are in that room," he pointed at one of the room. Connor narrowed his eyes.
"You interrogate the androids, I'll check on the rooftop. They say there's a lot more up there," you said, leaving Connor. Connor didn't say anything, but you knew he agreed.
As you were about to leave, a hand was placed on your shoulder. You turned to see Hank.
"Hey, uh... Listen.." Hank rubbed his head, avoiding eye contact with you. "Sorry 'bout, you know... last night?"
"Last night? When you transformed into a drama queen?" You joked, trying to lighten up the mood. Hank rolled his eyes at your comment, but he was still sincere about his apology. "Don't apologize, Anderson. I... understand why you acted like that. I guess I'm sorry too for... you know... not handling it better? I've never been too great at public speaking."
Hank smiled, "You can say that again. C'mere, Pancake."
Ignoring the nickname, you gave Hank a hug. It was a nice... change of pace. After everything that has happened, having this little moment with your partner you see as your second father was more than enough to make you feel better.
Retreating from the hug, you gave Hank one last smile and a pat on the back, "Does that mean you'll stop drinking?"
"[Redacted] no," Hank feigned an offended expression. "Alcohol is my life."
"It can literally destroy your life."
Hank cleared his throat and spoke in a deeper voice, "Actually, logically speaking... if alcohol were to be my life, and it can destroy my life. That means it destroys itself. There, I beat the system."
You face palmed and shook your head. You tried to have a straight and serious tone but some laughter found its way in your words, "You're an idiot, you know that?"
Hank smiled, "I know."
After bidding each other a quick goodbye, you turned and decided to go and leave for the rooftop to check for more clues and evidence.
All of a sudden, however, you heard a noise from the room that Connor went in. A second or so of ruckus, then silence. After that, an android came out, looking around cautiously. He straightened himself up before walking away, as if nothing happened. You raised your eyebrow, finding it suspicious.
Weird....
You decided to have a quick check on Connor and walked towards the room, and without warning, Connor bumped into you, and both of you fell to the ground.
"OH F—"
He landed on top of you, with his hands pinning yours on the floor accidentally as your forehead touched his. His shirt is torn, so you can clearly see his chest.
You froze, processing.
What in the world...?
Connor seemed to be lost for a split second, too. He clenched his jaws as his grip on your hands became tighter. He parted his lips, as if wantin to say something, but nothing came out. He furrowed his eyebrows before standing up, chasing after the android. You stayed down for a good 5 seconds before getting up as well.
What in the world was that? One minute you're just investigating a crime scene, then the next you're lying on the floor, with a ho-...an android on top of you, looking like as if he's going to have a hot make-out session with you.
You totally weren't about to call Connor hot.
I mean.. seriously, who would call him hot, haha....
Why did he look like that? His attire— I mean, why is it...
You hit your head to get the thoughts out of your mind.
No, no...! Focus..!!
You went after Connor to see him taking a gun from someone and shot the android with no hesitation. He casually gave the gun back to the guy, who was obviously confused. Hank stared in shock, unsure of what to say.
"I'm assuming that's the deviant..?" You questioned, standing next to Connor. You stared at the android's motionless body. "That explains why they didn't break in. One of them intentionally let them in..."
"I wanted it alive.." Connor mumbled, upset at the result.
"Well, least you saved us," Hank stated. Connor glanced at the lieutenant, who twitched his lips upward (not to give a smile, but something similar to it) as his way of expressing his gratitude.
Hank was delighted to see that Connor had saved them from harm despite the times he has left them for death. Connor's LED flickered to another color for a second, before turning to you.
"Are you alright, Detective?" Connor asked.
You looked at him with an indescribable expression, "I uh... Yeah... yeah. I-I'm fine," You said, giving Connor the exact same thing as Hank did— a somewhat of a smile.
I guess... even Connor is changing...?
~Fun fact:Sherlock also licks evidence in one of the movies.~
"Hey, you didn't lick any evidence today," Hank joked as he drove to Chicken Feed.
"....Is it necessary...?" Connor tilted his head. "Should we head back?"
You laughed at Connor's cluelessness. You can't believe he took it seriously, "No, no. It's just the first time, that's all." You said, grinning.
"Congratulations on not being a bother as well, Detective (L/n)."
"Hey!" You huffed, "That's not nice!"
"It isn't? I'm just simply complimenting you."
You pouted as Hank laughed.
"You're such an ass..." You mumbled as you glared at Connor before looking away. "....and I want it.."
"What?" Hank.
"What?" Connor.
"What?" You.
"..."
"..."
"..."
"Did you just—"
"Shut up, Hank."
~~~~~~~~~~~~
Revised.