METAL GUARD DOG ⊳ connor x reader

Ch. VIII

"Where are we headed?" Connor asked, leaning down to whisper in (y/n)'s ear. It was a hopeless attempt to not attract attention, which however seemed to be working. People around them had no interest in approaching them, and Connor supposed how close they were standing next to each-other could be part of the reason. He hoped they left the impression of two thugs, or at least people that were remotely dangerous, though he couldn't exactly be sure.

"You're gonna meet my boss, and after that..." (y/n) paused, waiting for a stranger to pass them by before resuming her sentence. "...we'll see."

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"A bakery?" Connor furrowed his brows, stopping in the middle of his tracks as soon as he realized where (y/n) was taking him.

Only seconds later, someone bumped against his shoulder, causing the Android to let out a displeased grunt. Had he misunderstood (y/n)? Wasn't she supposed to be a drug dealer? What were they doing, in one of the most crowded streets of Detroit, going inside a bakery?

"Shh, come on." (Y/n) whispered sharply and wrapped her fingers around his wrist, practically dragging him after her.

Connor hadn't ever had anything to do with drug business, but he knew about Hank's heavy implication in stopping red ice trafficking. He was, or at least used to be, a cop. Yet it didn't feel wrong. Following (y/n) inside that building didn't feel like a bad decision. Instead, it gave him the impression of...being somewhat useful? He blamed his lack of rationality on his deviancy.

"Okay, Connor, just a heads up. You can't, under any circumstance, use your real name. Think of an alias."

"What—" He shook his head, then tilted it as he thought. "I- I don't know." He'd never had to use another name except for his own, nor make up one. But at that moment, he was sure that what humans called 'creativity' most certainly wasn't his forte.

"Okay, let's, um, let's brainstorm then. Hmmm...what was your model name again?"

"RK800."

She repeated the letters and numbers again, pinching the bridge of her nose as she focused on the floor.

"8? No, that sounds dumb. Alias Eight sounds dumb. R? No, too simplistic. K? No, you're not Potassium. That sounds dumb too. Damnit..."

"Hm." Connor tapped his index against his chin.

"What do you think about...Arkay? As in A-R-K-A-Y."

His brows raised in surprise. That was...strangely fitting. It had a certain ring to it, and was still simple enough.

"It's good." Connor gave a quick nod of approval.

"Good. Oh, and just so you know, I'm Velox."

The door emitted a cheerful ringing noise the moment they stepped inside, the smell of pastries and...something else invading their nostrils.

"Vel, good morning."

A young man, Android components, was standing behind the counter, and smiling at (y/n) brightly, before his gaze drifted over to Connor.

"He's with me." The young woman spoke up before the guy could say anything else, protectively holding out a hand in front of Connor.

The deviant couldn't help but let a small lopsided smile slip at the gesture.

"I'd like the northern special." (Y/n) added after a few seconds, to which the young man moved to let them step behind the counter.

She trotted over to what Connor could only guess was some sort of back door, only to be stopped by the young man from before, who tightly grabbed her by the collar of her shirt.

"You better know what you're doing. Odin won't be happy if your friend" The man's eyes darted up to Connor, nothing but venom in his gaze. "decides to fuck up our business."

"Calm down, Mim. He wouldn't." (Y/n) smiled sympathetically, putting her hands over the young man's in a hopeless attempt to pry them off her coat. It was pointless, the man was too strong for a mere human.

"I believe that's enough." Connor intervened, breaking the stranger's grip on (y/n)'s clothes. His usually sweet chocolate gaze was firm and depthless, seemingly almost pitch black.

"You don't tell me what to do, fucking p-"

"Boys, boys. Let's not make a scene. If my friend does anything wrong, I'm responsible for it, alright?" (Y/n) put one hand on each of their chests, head switching from left to right to look at both of them every few seconds.

"Fine."

"Thanks, Mimir." (Y/n) smiled at the young man, subtly wrapping her fingers around Connor's wrist to tug him away.

"Just go, before it starts getting suspicious." Was the last thing the man said before returning to the counter, and (y/n) guided the deviant towards the back door.

She swiftly opened it, stepped inside, then held it open for Connor, who followed her.

A dark, cramped hallway, loaded with all sorts of dusty furniture on the sides. The air was stagnant, and had an unusually big percentage of CO2, accompanied by the smell of old wood.

"Careful." (Y/n) whispered, guiding him to the end of the hallway. They stopped in front of a blank wall, and Connor had to look down to see why the floor under his shoes stopped creaking. A white fuzzy carpet.

With her foot, (y/n) moved the object below their soles away, revealing a trap door.

Warmth, almost similar to a small storm exploded inside Connor's chest, his Thirium pump speeding up almost unnaturally. He had the sudden urge to run his tongue over his lips. Excitement.

"Okay, before we proceed. I do all the talking, you don't say anything unless my boss specifically asks you to. You live on the streets, just like me, and decided to get into the drug business after getting yourself a Memotran body. That's your story, if Odin asks."

"Odin?"

"My boss. He has a God complex and is kind of an ass, but I'll be damned if he's not good at whatever he's doing."

"Alright."

"Ready, Arkay?"

"As ready as I'll ever be."

This should be interesting.