With Civil Hearts and Hands: A DHB Story

Chapter 6: Hunting

As Connor walked into the precinct that morning, he noticed Hank standing near the entrance. For the first time since they became partners, the old man had arrived before Connor. As he drew closer, he noticed a small smirk playing on Hank's lips.

"So." He peeled away from the wall as Connor walked by, keeping pace with him. "How was your visit with the lovely doctor last night?"

At the question, memories from the night before came flooding back. The difficulty of the initial conversation, when he'd told her about the deviants they'd found, but then the subsequent ease of her company in the events that followed. The ghost of a jolt went up his arm, reminding him of the feeling of her slender fingers brushing against his battered knuckles. Then, in his mind's eye, he could see the mischievous glint in her eye and the crooked smile when she'd teased him. That strange heat bloomed in his core, and he heard the low, breathy echoes of her voice as a memory replayed in the back of his head.

Realizing Hank was still staring at him, Connor dismissed the memories, clearing his throat. "It was fine."

"Uh huh." Hank raised an eyebrow, corner of his mouth pulling up. "How long were you there?"

Connor did a quick calculation. "Approximately an hour and a half."

"That's an awfully long time just to update her on the case." Hank gave him a knowing look. "What were you doing there for an hour and a half?"

Connor frowned at him, feeling a small, inexplicable wave of defensiveness. "Just talking."

Hank looked doubtful. "That it?"

Connor half shrugged. "Well, no. She also repaired some minor damage to my hand."

Hank's eyebrows rose. "You got injured and you didn't tell me?" He frowned slightly. "Connor, I could have helped."

"We both know you're hopeless at repairing androids, and as I said, it was minor damage. It didn't seem necessary to cause you concern." Connor took a seat at his desk, booting up his terminal. Focused on that, he missed the look of hurt that crossed Hank's face.

"Whatever." The old man huffed, frowning as he turned to his own terminal.

Connor's brows furrowed as he took in the reaction. He'd simply been honest. There was no reason for Hank to take offense. He himself had joked before about how he'd often struggled with Connor's minor repairs. Connor rolled the thoughts around a little longer before shrugging them off. Rather than ask what had upset Hank, he elected to change the subject.

"Dr. Hayes mention another lead for us," he said, glancing up.

Hank said nothing, but he met Connor's eyes briefly, indicating for him to continue.

"She's repaired most of the Zion androids, and all the parts she manufactures herself have a symbol on them." Connor held up his hand, flashing a picture of the symbol on his palm. "If the traffickers intend to sell the parts, we can use the symbol to trace back to them."

Hank's eyebrows raised, face thoughtful. "Not a bad idea. We'd just have to track down where they're being sold at. I can contact Pedro. See if he knows anything."

Connor nodded at the mention of the petty criminal Hank had befriended. He turned back to his terminal and opened his DPD email box. An urgent message sat at the top of the screen from the forensics team. Curious, Connor opened it.

He glanced back up at Hank. "Did you get the email?"

Hank nodded. "Looking at it now." He let out a low whistle. "Two leads."

The forensics team had managed to decrypt the cellphone and salvage some data. It appeared to be a series of text messages between that phone and another unknown number. Parts were still indecipherable, but it was a start.