In Need of a Hand | ConnorxReader

The rain pattered heavily against the glass panes, threatening to undo the small, old car that you had sworn would last you the entire spring. And yet, here you were, going at a snail's pace. Hoping for some small miracle that you would at least the very least be able to get to work without having  to stand on the side of the sidewalk and ask for help from strangers again. That one experience had been plenty for you. 

Your deft fingers keyed and toyed with the strap of your bookbag holding the most recent reports of criminal activity within Detroit. Most of them being androids turned deviant which didn't surprise you in the slightest. 

You couldn't help but think that the main reason so few cases were being solved was because of you and your utter lack of expertise when it came to machinery. Luckily, Captain Fowler had requested a far more distinguished colleague to join your aid. You really just hoped deep down that you would keep your position, the trouble in Detroit be damned.

You unbuckled your seatbelt, making sure to grab your coffee and paperwork before heading inside. The air conditioning hit and you were thankful for the small instance of relief, knowing that Hank and Gavin would undoubtedly manage to get on your case yet again. Not that it annoyed you too much considering Hank was once of the nicer individuals around the office, especially taking into account Gavin's robust tendencies to carry his tantamount ego into every little nook, crevice and cranny of the building. 

"Good morning, Hank," you made a point to smile in his direction knowing that he was merely just counting down the few years left until he could ultimately retire and bid farewell to this hellhole.

He grunted in response, not even glancing up at you. Ah, so typical morning it is then. Oddly enough, the informality of it all made you more comfortable despite the glaring situation that was soon to be raining down as you got settled in. 

"Y/N, was it?" You turned around, the motion already made difficult from your swivel chair that refused to swivel and your heels that just had to make the most awkward scraping sound aginst the linoleum. His warm brown eyes shone up at you and you couldn't help but be reminded of the very coffee you had drank that morning.

"Uh, yeah. Is there something you need?" You really wanted to maintain that workplace formailty that Captain Fowler himself had stressed upon to you, but there were few men as attractive as he that rolled through here. 

"I've been informed by my partner Hank that I am to assist you with the rising deviant situation. Is that correct?" He tilted his head just so slightly to the side as you glared daggers at Lieutenant Anderson who only smirked back and pretended to be engrossed in his work. He is so gonna pay for this. 

"That sounds great. And, I uh, didn't quite get your name." You hoped you weren't coming off as rude, but this was pretty uncalled for, both on his part and Hank's. 

"My name is Connor. I'm the android sent by Cyberlife." Your mouth formed into an oh. It was only then that you glanced down and happened to notice the bright blue sensor situated near his temple and the donned on jacket with the fully fledged markings of an RK800 model. Well, obviously, there's no way this guy's human with a face like that. 

You realized you were staring before quickly shutting your mouth and holding you hand out to him. His grip was firm yet gentle and you were almost saddended by the thought of him actually having to pull away. Though, he didn't seem to notice as he took the desk adjacent and quickly pulled up the reported cases on his own end. 

Stay focused. You repeated the mantra to yourself, knowing the next couple hours would feel indefinite. 

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