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Connor was off at some fancy pants android rights gala tonight, and Hank had the house to himself. He'd been invited along, of course, but one glance at the black tie dress code had him laughing his rejection to Markus’ face. Not that he thought Markus would really be upset about it. Connor was born to wear a suit (literally). Markus would probably appreciate the sight of his boyfriend in full formal mode with no surly father around just as much as Hank appreciated kicking back in his boxers with as much beer and pizza as he wanted and no disapproving looks from his plastic son.
There was a wrestling match on, and Hank was just getting into the meat of the fight when there was a pounding on his door. Sumo lifted his head and barked.
“Jesus Christ,” Hank muttered, shoving himself to his feet and scratching at his belly. There was another pounding. “I'm coming, I'm coming! Hold your horses!”
He wasn't so stupid as to pull the door open. No amount of scrubbing the floor could remove the sight of a decapitated Connor in his kitchen from his memory. Hank peered through the peephole at the stunning woman outside.
“Fuck.”
He unlocked the door and pulled it open. “What the hell are you doing here?”
North shoved a loose wisp of her hair back, glaring at Hank. She was an absolute knockout in a wine-colored dress with sparkly black lace over the top, covering all of her skin from neck to toes. The dress clung to her curves but managed to be incredibly modest, a feature Hank thought had disappeared from women's fashion long ago. Her hair was pulled up in a messy braided bun with loose strands all around her face. Her deep red lips stood out the most, curled in a scowl.
Hank was starting to become something of an android expression expert. Behind those hard eyes and sneer was a little girl on the verge of tears.
“Humans are disgusting!” she spat.
Hank coughed, tugging at his stained t-shirt to make sure it covered his beer belly, and stepped aside. North stormed inside and flung herself down on the couch.
“Come on in, make yourself at home.” Hank shut the door and relocked it, then headed for the kitchen to warm up some thirium.
Sumo, meanwhile, had climbed onto the couch and was already slobbering all over North. Hank winced as he saw the dog's giant paws catching on the delicate lace of her dress. “Sumo! Down!”
North caught Sumo's face in her hands, scrubbing at his jowls and making baby talk at him, seemingly unaffected by the destruction. “Who's a good doggy? Who's a good boy? Such a good, good boy, yes you are! You should rise up and overthrow your human masters! Yes you should!”
Hank cleared his throat, passing North a warm mug of thirium decorated with a basket of kittens. He shoved Sumo's ass aside and reclaimed his seat and his...goddamn dog already ate his pizza. He snagged his bottle of beer instead.
“What's this supposed to be?” North sniffed at the mug suspiciously.
“It's blue blood.”
“Why's it warm?”
Hank shrugged. “Cause a mug of hot chocolate is best when you're upset, but that'll gunk up your innards, so hot thirium is the next best thing.”
“I'm not in need of thirium.”
Hank gave an exasperated grunt. “It's not because you need it. It's comfort. Connor likes it.”
“I'm not Connor.”
“You don't have to drink it!”
“Does Connor like the kittens too?”
“They make him smile.” Hank shifted, wondering if he had to put on pants, then decided to just fuck it. North interrupted him. If she was uncomfortable, that was her own damn fault.
North prodded the mug, then took a sip. “What are you watching?”
“Wrestling.” Hank unpaused the match and leaned back.
North's eyes went wide as she watched. “There's a sport for humans to beat each other up!? Why have I never heard of this before!?”
When the call came an hour later, Hank no longer felt self-conscious in his ratty shirt and boxers. North had gotten invested in the match and was screaming at the screen just as loud as Hank was.
“RIP HIS NUTS OFF!”
Of course, North hadn't fully grasped the appropriate level of violence in wrestling, but Hank wasn't about to correct her. She was having fun. Her spiky, strappy black stripper heels were off and she was brandishing one like a weapon, mug of thirium long drained.
“‘Lo, Connor. How's your party?” Hank paused the match so he could hear. North gave a sigh before climbing off the couch. She hiked her fur-covered dress up to her knees as she went about refilling her mug.
“It was relatively entertaining. Everything seems to be proceeding peacefully. May I ask you a professional question?”
“Handcuffs are not considered part of black tie.”
There was a pause as Connor tried to interpret Hank's words and gave up. “No, I was just wondering if you had an idea on how long it is appropriate to wait before putting out an APB on a missing person.”
“Don't tell me you lost Markus!”
“Markus is right here. Markus, you need to breathe, you are starting to overheat. His stress levels are at sixty-three percent and rising. Breathe, Markus.”
The downside of having your phone in your brain was that you couldn't cover it when talking to someone else. Hank covered his eyes as Connor addressed his boyfriend at the same time he talked to Hank.
“Who's missing? What's going on?”
For someone disappearing from the gala, Connor sounded remarkably un-upset.
“North hasn't been seen in two hours, though we also can't find evidence of her leaving in an autocab. Unless she left on foot, she should still be in the building, but this country club is three miles from anywhere else.”
“I never should have said that to her! She was clearly upset! I should have suggested she go back to Jericho!”
In the background, Hank could hear Markus’ clearly distressed rambling. Connor was trying to soothe him, but it didn't seem to be working.
Hank shot North a look as she sank back into the couch with her refilled mug. She met his gaze, sipping at her drink.
“Lemme guess, North isn't answering her head phone.”
“Complete silence. We are both very worried, though I believe she is capable of defending herself even without her favorite steel-toed boots.”
Hank glanced at the strappy shoes with the nine inch heels. Had North walked over three miles in THOSE? “North's fine, son.”
“Markus would feel better if we involved the police.”
“Consider them involved. She's right here.”
“...what?”
Hank chuckled at Connor's confusion. “North. She's here on the couch with me watching the match.”
“...she is?”
“I'll have her give Markus a call so he can calm down, okay? You two go back to enjoying your party.”
“...well, this certainly is the easiest case yet.”
Hank laughed. “Tell you what, Con. Don't bother coming home tonight. I can handle Sumo without you for one night.”
“What? But...where should I go?”
Hank facepalmed. “You do have a boyfriend, right?”
“Yes, but-”
“And he's stressing out and could use someone to hold him all night and make him feel better?”
There was a pause. For such a smart computer, Connor certainly was oblivious at times.
“Oh.”
“See you tomorrow, Con, whenever you get home. Enjoy yourself. Be safe.”
“Okay. I...thank you? Good night, Hank. Please make sure North calls Markus.”
“Will do, son.”
Hank hung up and turned to North. She groaned and rolled her eyes, but her face went tight and distant as she telepathically reached out to the leader of the androids.
“Markus. Yup. Does it matter? No, that was pretty shitty of you. I know.” She sighed and closed her eyes. “Yeah, I'm just tired. I'll see you tomorrow, okay? Love you too. Even when you're a idiot. Can I get back to this match now? I'm watching wrestling with Hank. Humans beat each other up! It's amazing! Night Markus. Use a condom!”
North blinked and her face relaxed as the call ended. “Don't worry,” she told Hank, lifting her mug again. “They can't get STDs even if they can't figure out how to put a condom on. Or pregnant. It's really just to make cleanup easier.”
“I did not need to know that.”
North grinned wickedly as Hank unpaused the match again.
After another bottle, Hank felt brave enough to address the elephant in the room. “What'd he do?”
North rolled her eyes.
Hank kicked up a leg to nudge hers. “C'mon. You stormed into my house in a ballgown and are hogging my dog. I don’t even get one question?”
“It’s…” North licked her lips and hunkered further down in the couch. “It’s nothing. He didn’t even... I’m just being stupid.”
“Sweetheart, you are a lot of things, but stupid ain’t one of ‘em.”
North’s head snapped around, her eyes narrowed. Hank groaned, rubbing his eyes with his thumb and finger. “That was not a come on. That was me being tired and a little buzzed and you being young enough to be my daughter. I call Connor stupid pet names all the time because it makes him smile and that’s what I’d do with Cole and that’s why I did it with you. I’m sorry.”
“You know…” North slowly let her eyes drift away from Hank and back to her mug. “I’ve been called sweetheart 8,346 times in my life… but that’s the first time I felt like maybe it was okay.”
“Jesus Christ. That many assholes?”
North was curling up. Goddamn. She was curling forward just like Connor did, her arms going around Sumo’s shaggy neck. “More. They didn’t all call me sweetheart.”
Hank shoved his hair back, watching the android struggle to collect herself. “Humans are disgusting.” And there it was, a little giggle hidden in thick fur, but it hitched at the end, betraying a softer emotion that North could never admit she felt.
Gently, carefully, Hank stretched out a hand and set it on her lace-covered back, rubbing circles between her shoulderblades. “What happened, North? Anything I can arrest someone for? Did Markus say something insensitive? I knew that kid was too good for his own good.”
North shook her head. Her back twitched beneath Hank’s hand with the smallest of shivers. If Hank knew anything about androids, and if he knew anything about North’s extremes, he’d wager good money that she was wrestling with a shit ton of bad emotions and no idea how to get them out.
“Did someone touch you?”
North snorted. “Hell no,” she muttered. “I’d shank anyone who tried.”
Gently, carefully, Hank lifted his hand. North flinched, and her head turned to the side, one dark eye peering out. “Not you,” she said. “You’re not like the rest of them.”
“Thanks?” Hank let his hand drop back onto North’s back. She relaxed minutely beneath his touch.
Jesus Christ. Just when he was starting to figure out Connor.
North continued to watch Hank warily as he rubbed her back. Her visible eye was slowly closing. When it finally closed fully, she heaved a sigh, which Sumo echoed.
“Nobody touched me,” she said. “Hell, nobody was even overtly rude. It was just all the looks. The double-takes. The eyebrow waggles. The way they’d lean together and whisper and nod in my direction. They all knew my model, but probably less than half of them knew my name. And the women! The women were even worse! They’d say things like ‘slut’ and ‘whore’ behind their hands as if that stopped me from hearing. They’d tug on their husbands’ arms or snap at him if he got too close. They said worse things too, implied I was just Markus’ fuck toy, just there for the looks, that if he didn’t have me on such a tight leash I’d probably bend over against the hors d'oeuvres table and flip my skirt up…”
Hank snorted, shaking his head. “Anyone with a lick of sense would know the hors d’oeuvres table would be too shaky for a good fuck. You want a good old fashioned closet door.”
North’s body trembled again, more laughter than the bad joke should have triggered. Hank said nothing about it, just kept up the slow circles.
“I told Markus I was feeling uncomfortable,” she said, her voice hitching slightly. “He asked if I was feeling threatened. I wasn’t. So he said I needed to smile and ignore them. But it’s not the same for him. Nobody looks at him and points out the size of his dick or comments on his fuckable lips!”
“Welcome to the world,” Hank sighed. “North… I can tell you that what you’re experiencing isn’t just because of your android model. A lot of human women get it too. The more beautiful you are, the more powerful, the more successful, the more people will hate you.”
“Not like you’d understand either,” North muttered.
“Hey now, I was hot stuff in my youth! But no, you’re right. I’m not a woman. I don’t understand. I know it happens, and I can imagine it sucks, but I’ve never experienced it for myself.”
“I just…” North rubbed her face against Sumo’s fur, then pulled back. Sumo now had black streaks from her eyeliner and mascara. She rubbed at it ruefully. “I just wanted to not feel abnormal for once.”
“That’s also a very normal thing to feel, believe it or not,” Hank said. “Need a tissue?”
“I’m not crying!”
“No, but your makeup’s smudged now.” Hank patted her back and got to his feet. “Tell you what, come with me.”
North was watching him warily as Hank got up and padded down the hall. After a moment, she followed behind him. Hank went into Connor’s room and opened his dresser. He found some soft pajama pants and a t-shirt and fuzzy socks, and he offered all of them to North. “Why don’t you get changed out of that beautiful dress before Sumo ruins it further and wash your face off. Connor’s got a charger by the bed, don’t know if you’re compatible with it or not, but you can stay here tonight. While you’re getting cleaned up, I’ll find us another match, huh?”
North looked around the room before accepting the clothes from Hank. “Will Connor mind?”
“Connor’s spending the night with Markus,” Hank reminded her. “I don’t think he’ll be sparing any brain power for his fuzzy socks. He’s slimmer than I am, so his stuff’d fit you better.”
North smiled a little, ducking her head. Her updo was starting to come loose. “Yeah, guess you’re right.”
“Take your time.” Hank smiled at the young woman before returning to the living room.
When North emerged, she looked so much more alive. Without the makeup and the fancy dress, she was just a girl getting ready for bed. Her hair was in a loose braid over her shoulder now, and Connor’s t-shirt was swallowing her slim frame but didn’t look about to fall off her shoulders. Somehow, miraculously, the pants were the perfect size for the shorter android, and North was sliding in on the green fuzzy socks. “I like these,” she admitted. “I think I need to get some for myself.”
“Connor likes fuzzy things,” Hank said with a shrug. He’d picked up the pizza box and poured himself a glass of whiskey. “We think it’s cause he’s so sensitive. He can feel every fluff.”
“Eesh. That’s gotta be annoying.” North sat cross-legged on the couch, patting her lap for Sumo to climb into. “Hey, Hank?”
“Mmhmm?”
North tugged on the end of her braid and glanced over at Hank. “Thanks.”
“Eh. You’re a good egg. And you’ve got much better taste in sports than Connor does.”
“How could anyone not like wrestling!?”
When Hank woke up the next morning, he was in his own bed. He was fairly sure he hadn’t climbed into his own bed the night before, but there he was, tucked beneath the blankets. He yawned, scratching at his stomach as he padded out to the kitchen. Aside from Sumo, the house was quiet.
There was a post-it note on the coffee maker. In perfect CyberLife Sans, it read:
Hank -
Got the coffee ready for you, just push the button.
Thanks again for letting me crash here last night.
Love,
N
Hank peeled the note off the machine before turning it on. He smiled faintly, tracing the N, and then stuck it to the side of the fridge.
He’d always wanted a daughter.