Work Text:
Connor was currently facing a Dilemma.
It wasn't a crisis, nor was it an emergency worthy of DPD intervention. It simply was a Dilemma, a conundrum left for him, as an android not a detective, to solve. He furrowed his brows, something he'd seen his human co-workers do regularly in face of confusing content. When that action failed to help he rose his head to look at his fellow human alcoholic.
"Lieutenant, it appears I have come across a problem while filling out my application."
Hank looks up from his desk. In return, Connor lifts the tablet, revealing his current enigma. Ah, Hank realizes, it's the form newly deviated androids are required to fill out. Something the government needs to tally the numbers and shit-Hank really wasn't paying attention in that debriefing.
He nods, "Yeah, what about it?"
Connor leans over the desk, "It says here that I must write down a first and last name in order to proceed. I do not have a last name."
"Ah, yeah. I see." Hank nods, "You can't just leave it blank?"
Connor shakes his head, "Try putting your model in there. It's good enough."
Connor hums, another thing he'd picked up from his co-workers. He stares at the blank before tapping in RK800. The page blinks, before flipping to the next screen.
"I see. Thank you, Lieutenant." The android smiles and Hank nods.
"Yeah, no problem." Hank was just glad the issue was that simple.
Except, it wasn't that simple. 45 minutes later and Connor was still looking at that same screen Hank had supposedly 'helped' him out on. Connor was just sitting there, staring at the blank, even after Hank came back from his break.
"For fucks sake," Hank sighed, "What, what's wrong now? You know you have a job to do, right?"
"I'm sorry, Lieutenant," Connor nods, "I am still having trouble with-"
"Yeah, yeah I know. The name thing." Hank groans.
"Correct,"
"I thought you said RK800 solved it."
"Though the application did accept it as satisfactory, it just didn't," Connor pauses, "It just didn't feel right."
Hank felt his frustration wane. Feel, Connor hadn't used that word in a while. Hank wondered if Connor still had trouble coming to terms that he could feel. God knows humans already struggled with that, he had no idea how an android could handle it.
So he sucked in a breath, slipping into the seat next to Connor, "Okay, okay. What does feel right?"
Connor didn't answer, silently staring at the screen. Hank tried again.
"How about a human last name. Like the sound of that?"
Connor blinked, processing the new advice, "Yes. Yes, I like that."
"Okay," Hank nodded, "Fuck-uh what are you thinking of? Jones, Martin, there are literally thousands."
Connor hummed, "That is correct. I will scan the database and search for a surname that sounds phonetically pleasing."
Hank leans in his seat, watching as Connor's LED shifts to a warm yellow. He'll probably come up with something in just a few moments. Hank hopes it won't be something stupid like 'Connor Connor' or 'Connor-
An idea pops into his head. A quiet thought and he wondered if he should just stash it away in his head, never to leave his mouth.
"Hey," He calls, "How about...Anderson."
Connor's LED turns back into a soft blue and he simply stares at Hank. He looked especially unreadable in those times. His face is still and Hank wonders if it's on purpose.
"It would be confusing if there are two officers with 'Anderson' as their surname employed at the precinct." Connor finally speaks, "It would make things difficult for the others."
There's silence for a moment.
"Right," Hank says, "Yeah, good point uh-"
He laughs, and Connor glances at him, "I'm gonna go get started, then. Don't take too long on this or Fowler will have your ass."
He stands up, walking away, and Connor wonders if he missed something.
The answer comes later in the night.
The station was sparse after midnight, with many of the officers ending their shifts. Connor would usually follow in suit, much preferring to share his working hours with his partner, but Fowler decided it would be best if he took the night shift-along with Gavin.
His aversion for the Detective was starting to wane a bit. Gavin no longer seemed to single him out as a target these days, though he still wasn't completely comfortable with the detective android. Sometimes if Connor said something during a briefing he'd sneer, but wouldn't do anything more. Connor liked to think the Detective was slowly getting more accustomed to the idea of Connor becoming his co-worker.
"Tin can. Move." Or maybe not.
"Apologies, Detective," Connor acquiesced, stepping to the side as Gavin took his place next to the coffee machine. It was his fifth cup that night. Connor thought to warn the Detective of the dangers of caffeine, before quickly thinking the better of it.
Gavin rolled his eyes, starting the coffee maker.
"Why are you even fucking here anyways? You don't even drink coffee."
"The break room is open to all officers for their leisure. I was simply-"
"I don't need an in-depth explanation on why you were standing," Gavin harshly said. Connor circuited a quick quip, being mindful of not actually saying it. Thirium is very hard to remove from wooden floors.
It was silent after that, as the two listened to the sounds of the coffee maker slowly rumbling to life. It was four years past its expected lifespan. Connor had seen some officers pet it, often telling it a 'good job' when it finished dispensing their coffee. During holidays there'd be decorations sprawled on top of it and Connor would often wonder if it was simply human nature to get attached to things that stay around.
"You know, I think Dickhead is a great lastname for you."
Connor blinked, "You overheard the Lieutenant and I's discussion about surnames."
"No shit, everyone did. Next time you bring your personal life into the precinct, try not to be so loud about it."
"I'm sorry, Detective. On a lighter note, I think I have chosen an adequate surname. I think Dechart would be a suitable fit for me."
"Fucking peachy," Gavin rolls his eyes, "Glad you're having so much fun with it."
His coffee was done, and Gavin immediately snatched it up. He roughly walked past the android, ready to head back into work when he paused. Connor tilted his head, watching the Detective purse his lips, as if weighing his options. Connor wondered if he had blinked too fast for Gavin's liking and now Gavin was considering grabbing his pistol and shooting him.
"You're an idiot," Gavin finally states.
Connor turns to him, not at all expecting such a calm reaction. Gavin sighs.
"He was trying to adopt you, dumbass."
Connor feels his circuits hum, "Adopt...?" He asks.
Gavin groans, "Aren't you androids supposed to use context clues? Yeah, he was trying to adopt you. Make you his robot son or something. Try to go fishing as a family together-I don't fucking know."
Family. Connor latches on to that word, quickly scanning his database. He gets pictures of a mother and a father laughing with an infant, scenes of a father braiding his daughter's hair, a college student hugging two older humans. He pauses at the last picture, an older man and a younger one, looking nothing alike. They're sitting on a rundown sofa, midcheer they endlessly stare at a TV. They're watching a game. Football.
Family.
Connor pulls something else up, glancing at the clock. He can make it if he hurries.
"Detective, I'll be taking my break now." Connor simply says, effortlessly leaving the bullpen.
"What? Hey-Hey Connor you fucking bastard you can't just leave-Connor!-"
Gavins voice cuts off just as Connor closes the station's doors. Gavin will surely hunt him down for this, Fowler will blow a fuse, his system warned, but it didn't matter.
A new mission awaited him.
Hank wakes up to rapid knocks and Sumo whining.
"Lieutenant! Lieutenant Anderson!"
He curses, knowing that if he doesn't immediately open the door Connor might try to crawl through the chimney or break the window again. Irritated and exhausted, he crawls out of bed, yanking open the front door.
"What the fuck, Connor," Hank groans.
Connor smiles politely, "Good evening, Lieutenant. May I come in?"
"It's 3 in the morning, what the hell are you doing-and why are you wet?"
Connor glances down, seemingly just noticing his dripping clothes, "The ferry closed at 2:30. Since I was 3 minutes and 43 seconds late, I opted to swim across the river in order to make it to the court house before they too closed."
He steps past the Lieutenant, making sure he doesn't get the wooden floor too wet.
It was too Goddamn early for this. "You swam across a fucking river, to get to the fucking courthouse!? Why?"
"So we could go fishing together."
Hank has never been driven so close to murder, "What."
"Detective Reed stated that if we became a family we could go fishing together."
Hank stilled, watching as Connor shifted his weight. Nervous. Connor was nervous.
Suddenly, he was too.
"Lieutenant...I did not realize what you were implying earlier today. I'm sorry, it appears my android-human relations programming is still adjusting to my new settings. As soon as I realized what you meant I quickly took action and acquired an application from the judiciary that would grant me rights to be your kin. If you are still interested I hope that you would sign this so I can become your..."
Connor's words faded when he felt something around him. Hank's arms were sturdy, enveloping Connor in a hold-a hug. It felt so natural return the favor, synthetic hands hugging a clothed back. Usually Connor was rather diligent in keeping up with time, but for some reason, the existence of it faded it his mind. And Connor wouldn't have minded if he and Hank stayed like that forever.
Like a family.
He heard a noise, his system recognizing it as a sniffle. Cautiously, he asked:
"Lieutenant...are you crying?"
"No," The Lieutenant's voice was stuffy, "No-no I was cooking earlier. Onions fuck." He pulls away and Connor can see red rimming his eyes.
Hank breathes, looking up, "Go and dry off. And-and we'll look at the application together, got it?"
"Got it." Connor softly repeats, a smile splaying on his lips.
He turned to disappear to the bathroom, before a quiet 'wait' makes him pause.
"I...if you're okay for this weekend. I can grab the old poles and we could go to the creek."
Connor feels his smile grow wider, "I'd like that."
If Gavin doesn't shoot him tomorrow, the android decided, Connor will take him out for lunch.