Timeskip
Your POV
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It's later in the day after the whole ordeal with Kara and the little girl. I'm wandering around outside as Hank and Connor are at the Chicken Feed, where I'm going now.

A man accidentally bumps into me, "Oh, sorry. Uh, do you know where Jericho is?"

"Jericho?" I repeat, and he nods. "Yeah. Give me your arm."

He does so and I grab it with my left hand, revealing my android arm, him doing the same with his, as I send him the directions. I release him a second later and our arms go back to normal.

He says gratefully, "Thank you."

"No worries," I dismiss. "Good luck."

He nods with a small smile before leaving, and I wonder who exactly he is. Shaking off the thought, I continue on my way to the Chicken Feed to meet up with my partners for lunch.

I arrive right as they're standing at a table.

"This Pedro," Connor starts, "he was proposing illegal gambling, am I right?"

"Yeah," Hank replies.

"And you made a bet?"

"Yeah."

"Seriously, Hank?" I deadpan, partially teasingly, as I stand next to Connor. "You're a Lieutenant and you still do something illegal? I'm disappointed in you."

"Har, har, YN," he responds. "Where've you been? Haven't seen you since the chase this morning."

"That's for me to know and for you to find out," I joke, shoving all of my fingers into my pockets except for the thumbs, shifting my weight between my left and right feet.

"Are you sure you're okay from that?" Connor inquires, looking into my eyes.

"Yeah, I'm alright," I reply with a confident smile. "It was a close one, but I'm safe and sound, thanks to you."

He grins at me, "It was nothing."

"Connor, you saved his life," Hank points out as he takes a bite of his hamburger. "That's definitely not nothing."

I set my hand on Connor's forearm briefly as I state sincerely, "Yeah, so thanks again."

His face grows a barely noticeable tint of blue as he places his hand on top of mine, "You're welcome."

"Okay, you two, quit your flirting," Hank jokes and I snort, us removing our hands.

Connor chuckles before mentioning, "By the way, Lieutenant, your meal contains one point four times the recommended daily intake of calories and twice the cholesterol level. You shouldn't eat that."

"Everybody's gotta die of something," he replies with a shrug.

"You just told him that to mess with him, didn't you?" I whisper to Connor with an amused smile.

He smirks back and responds, just as quiet, "Yes, I did."

I hold back my laughter as I rest my hands against the table next to his forearms, Hank giving us a questioning look, but says nothing.

"Look who's learning," I mutter playfully.

"Only from the best," Connor mumbles back with a wink.

Shaking my head at him with a chuckle, I look away and adjust my glasses. It seems as if he's watching me as I do this, but I pretend not to see it.

"You come here often, right?" I ask Hank, causing Connor to look at him in curiosity.

"Most days. Gary makes the best burger in Detroit," he replies. "You were here with me one of those days."

"Yeah, I was," I say, nodding as I recall the event. "It wasn't the best day for me."

"Why's that?"

"I was sick afterwards, remember?" I state, attempting to jog his memory. "The cleaning here isn't very good, you know."

"That's right," Hank responds in realization. "You stayed at mine until you were better. It was torture."

I laugh, "Well, you were the one who suggested that we came here, so when I got sick, I figured that it should be you to have to deal with me. It seemed only fair."

"Yeah, yeah," he rolls his eyes jokingly.

Connor listens with a smile, enjoying our friendly bickering.

"I vowed to never eat here again," I tell him. "It's good food, but I don't want to take anymore chances."

"I can understand why," Connor replies with a chuckle. "And you seem to know everyone in the district, Lieutenant?"

"Detroit's my home. Born and raised. Know most of the guys around here. Went to school with them, or I busted 'em...sometimes both."

"I see," he says. "Is there anything either of you would like to know about me?"

I nod, "Anything you wanna tell us, I'd like to hear."

"Hell no... Well, yeah, um- Why did they make you look so goofy and give you that weird voice?" Hank inquires.

"Jeez, Hank," I state with a small smile.

"CyberLife androids are designed to work harmoniously with humans. Both my appearance and voice were specifically designed to facilitate my integration," Connor answers.

"Well, they fucked up."

"Hank," I slightly proclaim, chuckling.

"What?"

"They did fine."

"Sure."

I snort.

"Can I ask you a personal question, Lieutenant?" Connor pauses, "Why do you hate androids so much?"

Oh, damn.

That's a loaded question.

"I have my reasons," he replies.

"Why don't you tell us what you know about deviants?" I suggest, trying to change the subject.

"You read my mind," Hank says.

"Alright," Connor agrees.

"Proceed."

"We believe that a mutation occurs in the software of some androids, which can lead to them emulating a human emotion."

I wouldn't say 'emulating.'

It's more like 'experiencing.'

"In English, please," Hank states.

"They don't really feel emotions, they just get overwhelmed by irrational instructions, which can lead to unpredictable behavior," Connor rephrases.

I purse my lips, making myself stay quiet.

I decide to just listen, instead.

"Emotions always screw everything up... Maybe androids aren't as different from us as we thought."

At least Hank is starting to see it.

"Have you ever dealt with deviants before?" I ask, and Connor nods.

"A few months back...a deviant was threatening to jump off the roof with a little girl. I managed to save her."

"So, I guess you've done all your homework, right?" Hank pitches in. "Know everything there is to know about me?"

"I know you graduated top of your class. You made a name for yourself in several cases, and became the youngest lieutenant in Detroit. I also know you've received several disciplinary warnings in recent years and you spend a lot of time in bars."

"So, what's your conclusion?"

"I think working with an officer with...personal issues is an added challenge, but adapting to human unpredictability is one of my features," he then winks at Hank, and I smirk a little.

"What about YN, then?" Hank questions, testing him.

I raise one eyebrow with a small laugh, "Don't you drag me into this."

"Too late," he chuckles.

"I know some things," Connor says, looking back to me. "I know that you've had some rough times in your past, but I don't know what they are. You became the only sergeant at the DPD at age twenty-two. You graduated just a few places below the top of your own class and once you got hired, you were put onto deviant cases.

"You tend to spend most of your free time alone, and when you're not by yourself, you're typically with Hank. That's about it."

I stiffened at the beginning of his analysis of me, but eased up a bit as he continued.

"You got all of that from just one scan?" I inquire, astonished.

"I got some of that information from just a scan, yes," he says. "The others, I either saw some things on your desk, such as one of the only photos you have there are of you and Hank, or I just guessed."

"Well, shit, you were spot on," I comment.

Before he could respond, his LED starts flickering yellow as he blinks multiple times for a few seconds. Once that little episode is over, he informs us, "I just got a report of a suspected deviant. It's a few blocks away. We should go have a look."

He stands straight and starts heading towards the car, turning back to us with a little smile, "I'll let you finish your meal. I'll be in the car, if you need me."

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L E T ' S  T A L K
{ Chapter Seven }

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-CastrarWolf