Android's Greatest Pleasure

4. Visit at the Green's

For the first time since you've switched desks, you're alone with Lieutenant Anderson while Connor is absent. Where Connor wandered off to you aren't exactly sure.

Lieutenant Anderson and you have never had a proper conversation before, no pleasantries exchanged either like you had with Connor. The only information you knew about him was gossip that had traveled around the office, like his raging alcoholism and pristine reputation from back in the day.

The lieutenant is munching on a donut, crumbs falling onto his desk as he struggles to read the small text on his screen. You want to engage in some sort of discourse with the old man, but you're not sure where to start. Peering at the bumper stickers on the glass pane next to his desk for any sort of common interest, you're surprised to see anti-android propaganda. Connor and the Lieutenant are close—that's a fact. So why is that sticker still there?

"Why do you have an anti-android sticker up, Lieutenant Anderson?" you ask out of the blue. He seems taken aback by your question because he starts coughing on the donut lodged in his throat. "If you don't mind me asking, of course," you added almost too sweetly.

Lieutenant Anderson wipes his mouth, sticky from the frosting lathered on the donut. He re-reads the slogan on the sticker you're referring to.

"Oh, that old thing? Yeah, bought that back before the revolution. Stickers are a pain in the ass to remove so I never bothered to," he explains without a hiccup. His reasoning is exactly what you would expect from a man like him, and it almost makes you laugh.

"I was just confused because I know that you and Connor are close," you elaborate. Lieutenant Anderson shrugs, unbothered by your interest in the belongings surrounding his desk.

"Obviously I don't despise androids anymore. Kid won me over soon after we became partners." He takes the last bite of his donut and continues speaking, "How's that going by the way? You two." He lazily gestures towards you and Connor's empty chair.

The question is oddly phrased, presenting you and Connor as if you were an item.

Who're you kidding, you're definitely overthinking.

"Pretty great so far. He's super helpful and even cracked a joke yesterday. When he gets back, we should finish doing a background check on all possible suspects before leaving the station to investigate some more."

"Good, I was worried for a sec that the kid wouldn't be able to handle having a partner that wasn't me," he says, relieved, even though he didn't seem genuinely bothered by it. He swallows what's left of the donut and wipes his hand on a crumbled napkin sitting on the desk. "Sometimes he's like a puppy with separation anxiety—always on my balls about everything. Can't eat at my favorite restaurant, can't drink, can't—"

"Lieutenant. Detective," Connor greets, appearing behind him. Connor sits at the head of the three desks, in between the two of you. "Were you talking about me?" You were so engulfed in the conversation, ready to learn more about Connor, that his presence completely caught you off guard.

"Yes, actually. You interrupted me. I was just complaining about how much of a control freak you are," Hank retorts, unchanging in the way he spoke of Connor. Connor fiddles with a quarter, dancing in between the hallways of his fingers and drifting on his knuckles.

That's a cute little quirk, you admit. An impressive one too—could other androids handle playing with a quarter as expertly as he did?

"I wouldn't describe myself as a control freak. I'm simply trying to extend the duration of your life by filtering out habits that are proven to shorten it." Connor tucks the quarter in his pocket, leaning back into the chair as he replied.