Survivor - Connor x OC

The Archer

Taylor Swift – The Archer

Connor opened the door for Taylor, watching as she slid into car without looking at him. He followed her into the backseat, still observing while she sent text messages on her phone. He had been measuring her stress levels since the clothing store. Whatever had happened, he couldn't puzzle it out, but her stress levels continued to fluctuate even now, higher than usual.

"Rachel is going to meet us at the church, to do her interview with Markus," she told him, still tapping away. Finally, she closed the screen and tucked the device in her pocket. When she turned her head toward him, however, she still wasn't looking in his eyes. "That was the Secretary of Homeland Security that called me just now. Alexis Headley."

"I overheard some of the conversation," he admitted. Her lips quirked into an amused smile. Guilty, he felt like he had to explain himself. "Your stress levels were rising. I was concerned. I only heard something about squatting and that you would talk to Markus."

"It's okay." Her smile widened at his fumbled explanation. "I don't mind. It would seem that they want the two of us to go to Washington D.C., to represent androids in whatever talks they intend to have."

"Markus knows about this?"

"He gave them my number, so I think he knows as much as I do." She turned back to the window. "I asked her to give Markus the CyberLife tower."

Connor didn't say anything at first. He took long enough responding that she shifted to face him again, this time finding his eyes. Tension lined her face, caused small lines to form around her mouth and on her forehead.

He reached across the seat and placed his hand over her fingers, diligently tapping against her knee. They stilled, but she tensed. Even though she didn't pull away, he released her. He was getting the sense that whatever was bothering her had to do with him, though he still wasn't sure what he had done.

"What did she say?" He asked, instead of what he wanted to. Taylor was staring at his hand still, which he had placed back on his knee.

"'I will see what I can do'." Her blue eyes flickered up to his face again. He could feel her stress levels still fluctuating, rising.

"Have I done something to upset you?" He couldn't take it. He had to ask. Her face smoothed over in shock, and she raised her head.

"What? No." Then she reached for his hand and twined her fingers through his. A sense of relief flooded him, even though she still looked reluctant. In a small voice, she added, "I'm sorry."

"Don't be sorry." He squeezed her hand gently, running his thumb back and forth over her skin. "Tell me what's wrong."

The taxi rolled to a stop. Taylor gave him a wide-eyed expression. They stared at each other for a few seconds, before her countenance softened. "Let's get this over with. We'll talk about it tonight, when it's just us."

She gave his hand a squeeze in return before she opened the door and slid out of the cab. By the time he followed her, she was already making her way down the sidewalk, to where he could see the silhouette of Rachel Bailey waiting in the distance.

"—going back to New York once I get material for this piece. If there is material. I would hate to think I came to Detroit for nothing." Rachel was saying when he approached the two of them. She glanced in his direction and gave him a lopsided smile. "Hi, Connor."

"Hello, Miss Bailey. May I take your things for you?" She had a camera bag slung over one shoulder and a backpack over the other. Rachel looked down at her bags and shrugged, handing them over.