Hank knew that having to tell the Captain the good news, bad news scenario was never easy. But at least this time the "bad news" wasn't all that bad, all things considered. As soon as Connor had his voice module replaced, he tested it, and there was no mistaking the tsunami of relief that swallowed you at hearing his naturally sweet, gentle tones.
Before he could even swing his legs to get out of the bed, more footsteps approached. The people that came in, however, no one was expecting: Doc and Bunny. They froze at seeing who was keeping you and "Judas" company, and the silence was awful.
Finally, it ended up being Hank who cleared his throat. "Hey, Doc, Bunny. Good to see you. I take it you've met my kids," he asked, nodding towards you and the android.
"Uh... shit, yeah, but..." Doc stroked his goatee, looking Connor over closely, then you. "Heard you got shot, kid. Wanted to check in on you. But..." He pointed towards the lieutenant, then to Gavin who was struggling not to do anything to somehow accidentally piss the biker off. Then things clicked into place, and he nodded, smiling a little. "I see. Well, can't really blame you, cause there was no way we'd have let you in otherwise."
The RK800 opened his mouth to speak, realized what he meant, then let the false voice drop. "Thank you for not blowing our cover, Doc, it's greatly appreciated. And... while these types of undercover cases are high-risk..."
It was Bunny who held up a hand. "Sweetie, you've got nothing to worry about. We won't tell a soul, though I gotta admit, you had me fooled pretty damn good," she added, laughing quietly.
"Look. We know you got hurt. And now we know you did it for this lump of fuck," Doc added, jerking his thumb towards Reed, "but... you've still got that loyalty. And if you think this asswipe is worth taking a bullet for.... fine. I'll tell Piston, and as long as no one starts anything, we won't give you guys anymore shit. Deal?"
The lieutenant's eyebrows went high, and he watched your Roomba sit in a bit of a stunned silence. Going undercover meant no one recognizes you out of it. But what could he do when the one he got information from ended up concerned for his well-being? Feeling a bit of warmth rise to his face, Connor smiled. "It's a deal, Doc. Thank you."
"And like she said, we won't go spreading news," the biker repeated. He approached the bed and shook the RK800's hand firmly. "You're a good kid. And now that I see you're with Bones, that explains it."
Wait. "Bones?" The android's confusion laced his inquiry. "The... one at the door?"
Chuckling, Hank grinned. "Not exactly." Like Connor had done so many times to him, now he could toss the kid a wink. "Nice to meet you. They call me Bones. Call me when you're in deep shit. Y'know, like you always have."
■□■□■
The ride back to the precinct was silent for the most part. Both you and Gavin were drained from shedding so many tears, though no one present would mention it. At least, not in Reed's case; there was no way to hide how your makeup had run down your cheeks, but it was the least of your concerns.
Beside you, the RK800 was removing the metal hoop from his eyebrow and the bandana tied around his head. In an odd way, turning into Judas was sort of fun, until things spiraled down. And getting the confirmation that he'd fooled at least some of those in the bar, the android only smiled. Everything you'd tried to teach fell into place: if he knew how to do his research, and who to ask for help from, then going undercover wasn't as difficult as it seemed. Warm eyes cast over in your direction, but yours were closed, head tilted back against the headrest. Dark streaks of cosmetics down your cheeks gave an almost ghastly, haunted look in the twilight. Connor's vague smile eased but didn't leave his eyes, reaching over to take one of your hands.
The feeling of your hand being taken roused you from the exhausted stupor you'd fallen into. Knowing that the hand-holding in and of itself wasn't a good idea, your relief at the RK800's recovery was too great. Instead of pulling your hand away, you turned it, lacing your fingers with his. For that night, at least, you could show the affection he seemed to want. "I'm proud of you, Connor," you spoke, voice barely above a whisper. "You... the only way to describe it is... you weren't undercover. You just... became a biker. Like it was the most natural thing, like... like the detective we all got used to seeing was something you shed after going home. Like Judas was who you just were outside of work."
His eyes closed, clinging to your hand, all too aware of the fact that his was firmly held in return. Your compliments did raise some warmth in his face, yet the more you explained, the more the heat spread to both ears and down his neck.
It was the realization that all your supportive words were making his systems throw up error codes and overloading alerts that had him clear his throat. "Thank you, Detective. But... you taught me. I only did as well as you claim because your lessons finally made sense. Had you not taken the time with me... I cannot imagine how poorly this would have gone."
[My stress is increasing, and the cooling fans are already running as best they can. Why? I know what this is, but what is causing this sharp spike in desire?]
There was a soft smile on your face that, despite the dark streaks, lit up your expression. "A teacher can only do so much. It's what the student does with the knowledge, that's what matters. And... goddamnit, Connor, it was like you flipped a switch. As soon as we stepped into that bar, you weren't the RK800 detective prototype. You were literally just an android biker, out with his girlfriend, on your way north. It was so natural. Kind of scary, actually," you admitted, smile turning sheepish. "Doesn't matter. I wish you hadn't gotten hurt but I'm so, so fucking proud of you."
His smile was strained by that point, trying desperately to make the damn internal fans work more effectively, yet unwilling to tear his gaze from you. There was a heavy note of exhaustion that kept you from moving much, but in its own way your Roomba found it adorable. Still, if he wasn't careful, he wouldn't be able to hide this new problem he discovered. All he could really do was send a text at that point: [Detective, please. I am... honored that you're proud of me, but please do not compliment me right now. Please.]
You eyed the message on your phone for a long moment before your eyebrows met, giving the android the side-eye. Still holding his hand, you merely mouthed the word, "What??"
A couple of awkward minutes passed before you received any kind of response: [I believe your praise is causing some side effects I wasn't prepared for.] When you saw his grimaced smile, a second text arrived: [I am aroused and I am sorry.]
YOU ARE READING
Comfort Zone (Connor x Reader)
Fanfiction[COMPLETED] "Getting out of my comfort zone I can understand. But there is a difference between comfort and safety, and I won't let you sacrifice one for the other, Detective."
