The second I closed the door, Connor gently grabbed my shoulders and kissed me.
"Raspberries," he mumbled.
"Hmm?"
"You taste like raspberries," He explained.
"You still taste like chocolate," I explained. Connor reached into his pocket and showed the bar he was working on.
"What can I say?" He asked shrugging. "I really like chocolate."
"I know, Connor. Trust me, I know," I said, chuckling. Connor smirked.
"Well, I've got to take you," Connor said, outstretching his hand for me to take.
"Where?"
"On a date," he flirted, winking.
"Oh shut up. You know what I meant,"I said, taking his hand.
"Can it be a surprise? I mean...are dates supposed to be surprises? What exactly...how do I...how does one...'date'?" Connor asked.
I chuckled. "I mean...really this doesn't have to be a date at all, Connor. Or it can. I mean a date can just be two people talking, really. I mean...right?"
"This whole deviancy thing is hard," Connor said. He led me down the street, and it felt just like our usual walks. Suddenly, we arrived at a small bar. It was completely closed, but Connor just took out a key.
"Do I want to know how you got the key?" I asked, confused.
"Well...Hank likes to drink," Connor shrugged. I guess that's my cue to leave this to mystery. Connor opened up the door and walked over to one of the tables. He pulled the string on the overhead light, creating a small spotlight on that single table.
"Go ahead. Sit down. I'll be right back," he said. I sat down and watched him disappear into the back room. He came back about 5 minutes later with a tray. On the tray was a teapot, 2 teacups, and a bottle of whiskey.
"Do you drink? Have you had alcohol yet?" Connor asked placing the tray on the table.
"No, I haven't," I said shrugging.
"Me neither," Connor said. "But Hank told me that when I asked him about...this whole thing, he told me to try mixing whiskey into tea."
"You asked Hank how to take me on a date?"
Connor laughed. "Absolutely not. I asked him how to give you my Christmas present for you. Then a few minutes later the plan was to bring you here and make you tea."
"Well...I'm glad it can be the two of us, and not Nick staring over our shoulder like the weirdo he is."
"Or Hank ruining things like the drunk he is," Connor answered. We laughed at our respective...friends? Family members? Family members.
"So you're Connor Anderson, right?" I asked, suddenly incredibly aware of the gift in my jacket pocket.
"Has a ring to it, doesn't it?" Connor answered. That's incredibly relieving. Connor poured the tea into the cups, and we both took our respective sips, a bit afraid to add the whiskey.
"One of us is going to have to," I remarked. Connor sighed deeply and unscrewed the top. He poured about an ounce into the tea, before handing me the bottle.
"At the same time," he said. I smirked, as I poured the same amount into my own tea.
We maintained eye contact as we both sipped. It wasn't...half bad. Connor and I shrugged simultaneously. It's...an interesting addition to tea. Not something I would find myself doing often, but for today, it's nice. It creates a warming feeling throughout you.
Connor thought for a moment. "I think it's time I show you what I've gotten you," he said sighing and reaching into his suit jacket pocket.
"No! Wait! Let me go first," I announced. Connor froze instantly, before just laughing at me.
"Go ahead, Charlotte."
I slowly took out the unwrapped white box I had kept in my pocket, and handed it over.
"Wow. We chose the same wrapping paper," he said sarcastically. The box is a perfect square, as to fit everything. I remember quite clearly getting the gift.
~
I walked into the precinct. Everyone looked at me, and I questioned why, before I remembered that they last saw me as nothing more than the CR300. I spotted Lieutenant Anderson at his desk, but not Connor. Knowing I couldn't have much time, I ran over.
"Hank!" I called.
"Oh my God, Charlotte? That really you?" He asked.
"Yes. Yes, but where's Connor?" I asked quickly.
"Ah, so you start dating Connor and I'm nothing more than two cents-"
"Hank, I need to know so I can talk to you," I interrupted.
"Oh. Markus needed to see him about some nonsense with the other Connors or something," Hank said shrugging.
"How long ago did he leave?" I asked.
"About an hour?"
I only have about 15 minutes then. "Okay," I said sighing deeply.
"What did you need to talk to me about?" Hank asked.
"Connor," I said, relieved.
"Oh, how could I ever have guessed?" Hank said sarcastically.
"Listen, I have to get him a Christmas gift, and I need to know if he's taking your last name."
"Haven't asked yet," Hank said shrugging.
"Are you going to?"
"Probably."
"I can't do probably, Hank."
"Shh. Calm down. Why do you need to know that anyway?" Hank asked.
"I have plans," I evaded.
"Wow. Thought you guys would be less secretive after the whole deviancy thing," Hank remarked. Oh my fucking God, I'm going to be here for these whole 15 minutes just with Hank.
"Hank, I'm getting Connor his badge. A few other things too, but his badge is why I need his last name," I explained. "But you can't get drunk and spill everything to him, okay?"
"I haven't gotten drunk in...okay, fair point," Hank said shrugging.
"You CANNOT get drunk until after Christmas, okay?"
"Fine. Just for you though, okay?" Hank agreed. "But I'll ask. He'll definitely say yes. There you go."
"Thank you, Hank," I said smiling.
"Fuck off," Hank answered. Not before rolling his eyes and chuckling. "God, you two are too much. Go handle your business."
~
Connor took out the badge and just looked at it. The badge says "Sgt. C. ANDERSON." Around the top of the badge, it states "Detroit Police Department, Precinct 114." His designation is right underneath it. "Detective."
"I'm...I'm a Sergeant?" Connor asked.
"I may or may not have harassed the Captain into seeing your potential," I mumbled.
Connor just stared at the badge. He slowly moved onto the next item. His commendation bars. Each one for things he's done while being an officer. One was for being in the Investigations Unit, another for Valor.
"Valor?" He asked.
"Connor, you made several crucial decisions that arguably, saved Detroit."
"But-"
"Connor, accept it," I interrupted. He took a deep breath before moving onto his rank insignia. A small collar pin designating his rank. The next was a violently blue and relatively...nasty colored pin that simply said police.
"The captain told me that you have to have that one. Trust me. I tried to explain how ugly it was but it did nothing."
Connor took a deep breath, laughing a bit. "Yes...it's pretty ugly."
He moved on to the next item. A tie clip I got him. I had gotten his name engraved on the back.
"I know nothing I got you was incredibly personal...but really, I hope you like it," I said, sipping my tea.
"Don't be silly. I love it," Connor said looking down at everything. He quickly stood up and came to the side of the table I was on. He took both of my hands in each of his own, and leaned forward and kissed me. I slowly fell backward into the booth seat, and he continued to kiss me. It's a lot more fun when your hair isn't getting soaking wet from snow.
By the time Connor realized what had happened, he was straddling me. He laughed. "Sorry. I got carried away," he admitted, slowly climbing off of the booth himself. I fixed my hair and just looked at him.
"You think?" I offered finally. Connor shrugged.
"Worth it," he said, reaching into his jacket pocket. I sipped my tea, as he placed the box on the table next to my hand. He sat down across from me again. Connor and I finished off our respective cups of tea, moving on to our second cups. We each put another ounce of whiskey into the tea, and finally, Connor gestured for me to open my gift.
I suppose Connor was right. We did choose the same wrapping paper. Plain, white, unwrapped boxes. I smirked at the thought as I opened up the box.
"Oh, Connor," I mumbled as I looked at what was inside. A bracelet. Something...so simple. Engraved on it though, was the writing "42.3314° N, 83.0458° W." The coordinates of the City of Detroit. Part of me wanted to respond quite silly and say, "Wow, so I can find my way home!" But...that's a little too Nick Lance for Connor. Instead...I decided to answer the way Connor really needs me to. At this moment, Connor is vulnerable. We're not used to this whole deviancy thing, and a joke would make him feel insecure. A genuine answer...that is important to him. Incredibly important.
"Connor, I love it. Thank you," I said, looking at him in his eyes. He smiled.
"Really? Oh good," He admitted, relieved. We sat for a moment talking about our gifts and sipping tea until Connor stopped for a moment.
"What is it?" I asked, a bit frightened by his sudden pause. He didn't reply immediately.
"I thought I saw something. After analyzing though, I can confidently say it was nothing," he said, shuffling uncomfortably. "Anyway, I'm 27."
Connor pulled out his ID and showed it to me.
"You're apparently 3 years my senior," I answered.
"Wow...that's a very random choice on the part of Cyberlife," Connor said, shrugging. We talked for a bit longer, taking sips of our tea and pouring a bit more until we got very giggly.
"Wait...can androids get drunk?" Connor asked, pouring another ounce into another cup of tea."
"Nooooo," I slurred. "Yes."
Connor began to giggle, at something that wasn't incredibly funny. Yep...we're definitely at least tipsy.
"How could that be spossible?" Connor slurred back.
Searching...
According to Doctor Lance's public server of notes at Jericho...Androids cannot get drunk, by normal terms. Their Thyrium can become diluted, however, causing difficulty in processing, and for deviants, drunk-like behavior. Over the course of a few hours, the Thyrium will return to the standard. This can happen with alcohol or excessive amounts of water.
"It's a thing...I just checked," I explained to Connor.
"Huh..." Connor answered. He sipped the tea again, and I followed, neither of us caring about our lowered inhibitions.