With Civil Hearts and Hands: A DHB Story

Chapter 2: A New Case

Connor rushed into the precinct, noting Hank leaning against his desk, arms crossed in mock disapproval.

"You're late," the old man called, amusement dancing behind his eyes.

Connor frowned. "So are you." He pushed past Hank, setting into the chair behind his desk. He powered up his terminal and began idly scrolling through his completed cases. He knew them all by heart, but it was more an effort to get his partner off his back than anything else.

"I'm always late." Hank turned to him, placing his hands flat on Connor's desk as he leaned over him. "You're never late." He smirked. "You've got that damned internal clock of yours keeping you on time. What changed?"

"Nothing changed, Hank." He glared at the man, then froze. Why was he so irritated? Connor sighed, squeezing his eyes shut as he took another breath. "I just got...sidetracked. But I'm here now, and based on the lack of new cases on my terminal, I assume my tardiness didn't cause me to miss anything."

"What? Did you find a helpless kitten stuck in a tree?" Hank elbowed him playfully. "Or rescue some poor damsel in distress?"

Connor glared at him, shoving him away lightly. "Why do you assume that's why I'm late?"

"Eh." Hank took a step back, shrugging. "Just seemed like the most likely scenario." He settled into his own chair at the desk across from Connor's. "It's unlikely that you lost track of time. You're a damn android after all. So you had to have been late on some other account. You don't get distracted easily, so you were probably helping someone, like some white knight."

Connor frowned at him, then turned back to his terminal, saying nothing.

"So?" Hank looked at him expectantly. "How'd I do?"

Connor sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose, remembering the interaction with Dr. Hayes. "I suppose you could say it was a...damsel in distress."

Hank threw his head back, laughing. Several other officers looked over, curious about the commotion. After a moment, Hank calmed, then leaned forward, grinning at Connor. "So, what happened?"

Connor sighed again, pointedly, but the look on Hank's face told him he wasn't getting out of this. The old man would continue to pester him about it until he told him.

Connor frowned at him again, then spoke. "I was on my way back to the precinct, and a woman was nearly run over by a biker. I pulled her out of the way."

"That it?" Hank almost looked disappointed.

"Yes." Connor turned back to the terminal. "Well, no. I walked her to her car."

"Connor, that's great!" Hank smiled at him. "Was she pretty? Did you get her number?"

Connor thought back, remembering the bright eyes and grinning lips. His own lips twitched, nearly smiling himself. "Yes." Idly, he reached into his pocket, pinching the business card between his fingers.

"Okay?" Hank drew the word out, raising an eyebrow. "Yes to which?"

Connor half shrugged. "Both?"

"Connor! Hank!" The loud voice of Captain Fowler interrupted their conversation. The captain stood at the top of the stairs leading to his glass office, beckoning for them to join him.

Connor and Hank exchanged a glance, then stood, making their way to where the captain waited.

Fowler shut the door, then plopped down into chair, folding his hands across his belly. "I have a case for you," he said, offering no preamble. "Androids have been going missing. The deviant leaders have been trying to get attention for it for weeks, and it finally made its way too us. I've sent the relevant files to your terminals."