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If I Fell...

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At the end of all things, it has been said that the seas will boil and the sky will bleed red and the sun will die. 

In a manner of speaking, you thought that accurately described how you felt currently. Nothing was as it should be.

After all, somehow you had managed to fall in love with a fucking android. A deviant hunter, no less. You were never the type to catch feelings easily for anyone, let alone for a machine that couldn't feel anything back. In a way, you supposed, it was some sort of cruel poetic justice. The renowned heartbreaker was doomed to be forever heartbroken.

You bit your lip, watching from afar as Connor spoke with his successor, the RK900. God, it was so fucking unfair. The two of them were too attractive for their own damn good. 

Hank caught your eye and grinned wickedly. Yes, that was another complication. Hank had a fucking nose like a bloodhound for gossip like this. He found out about your feelings probably before you even admitted them to yourself. Hank discreetly gestured towards his android partner and winked.

You frantically shook your head, no, but he was already standing up. You hid your face in your hands. Fuck. You were doomed.

 

"So, Connor, how's the whole deviancy thing goin' for ya? Discovering any new feelings you wanna discuss?"

You didn't even want to look up. Smooth, Hank. Real smooth. 

 

"I'm not sure I follow, Lieutenant." 

 

"Eh, well, I mean--have you discovered that you hold attraction for--well, anyone in particular? Any human at this office?"

 

"Hmm. I don't know, Lieutenant. Do you mean in a sexual way?" You could practically hear him look around. "Is there anyone you're thinking of, specifically?"

God,  Connor's innocent voice made you want to die. He had no idea. 

 

"Actually, there is. I can't tell you her name against her will, or she'd probably butcher me alive and hang my dick from the lamppost outside--but there is a staff member here who finds you very attractive and may or may not be in love with you." 

 

"I see. Are there any hints you can give me as to her identity?"

No no God no Hank stop please-- 

 

"Not really. She just needs to groW SOME FUCKING BALLS and tell you herself." 

Subtle, Hank. Really subtle. You dared to peek through a gap in your fingers and found RK900 watching you intently. Shit. Had you been found out?

Judging from the way he excused himself from Hank and Connor's conversation and made a beeline to you, the answer was yes.

He leaned down onto your desk, supporting his weight on his palms with a sly smirk that you would kill to see on your Connor. He assessed you up and down slowly before whispering to you in a conspiratorial voice.

 

"Detective, do you have something you want to tell Connor?"

You met his steely eyes and stiffened your back, straightening up to meet his gaze defiantly.

 

"You can fuck right off with that line of thought, Conan."

He winced mockingly and tsked at you softly. 

 

"That's no way to treat your new best friend, now, is it?" He smiled at your suspicious glare. "Baby, you need all the help you can get. I know how Connor thinks and processes things. I can help you get his romantic attention." 

He gestured over his shoulder, his smug attitude almost overpowering at such a close proximity.

 

"You can't trust Lieutenant Anderson to not let something important slip when he's a few Jamesons in. I can promise you discretion and poise." He let his eyes travel over you lazily. "And, if I don't deliver with 100% satisfaction, you can have me instead."

Your head snaked back and you regarded him with open suspicion. 

 

"Why?"

He laughed, an intoxicating sound. 

 

"Maybe I like the way that body of yours moves. Maybe I enjoy the way those lips close around my name. If you weren't so obviously smitten with my predecessor, I would've gone in for the kill long ago." He smirked as your face was tinted with heat. "I am his superior, after all. In every possible connotation."

You couldn't help the fact that your gaze immediately dropped to his package. You shut your eyes hastily, trying to retain any shred of dignity you had left. You let out a frustrated breath. 

 

"Okay. If you do try to help set me up with Connor. What, exactly, would that entail?"

 

"Oh, random encounters, small slips of the hands, with occasional whispers into the back of his mind. I've been told I can be very convincing. And, if he doesn't respond to any of that, I will swoop in to seek your affection to see if he becomes jealous. I'm rather intimately acquainted with his mind, so he won't be able to hide from me." He shrugged. "If he genuinely doesn't, you gain a new sex toy."

This seemed oddly like a win-win, which was extremely rare for you. Why did it feel like there were strings attached? You let out the breath you'd been holding in and glanced behind Conan to meet Connor's soft doe eyes. He smiled at you in that adorable way he always did, the one that made your heart race and your stomach drop.

You clenched your fists in determination. One way or another, you were going to have an android's love if it was the last thing you did. You met Conan's stormy eyes and held out your hand for him to shake.

 

"Okay. Deal."

 

 

Chapter Text

Conan sat beside Connor's desk, in his usual spot. It was an incredibly useful position for him to be in, even if the department had refused to bring in another desk for him. No matter, it was altogether inconsequential.

He slyly kept an eye on Connor's movements for the duration of the week, gathering information on his brother's throught processes, his habits, his movements and the sequences he took to solve problems. Though rather enlightening on Connor's incredibly docile personality (it seemed that he truly earned the position of the department's resident puppy), Conan had little to offer in the way of how Connor felt about you. 

So, being the aggressively tactless android investigator he was, he decided to go for blunt honesty. 

 

"Connor. I need a word with you." 

 

"Of course, RK900. What's up?"

Conan's eye twitched. Connor was becoming annoyingly free with more human colloquial phrases and vernacular. Hopefully it was a passing fancy and not an enduring habit, or Conan might have to perform an intervention. 

 

"I have a bit of a dilemma, RK800. One of our coworkers has approached me with the intent of gaining insight on your... shall we say... recreational appetites. I myself cannot discern your sexual orientation, and I've been observing you for a week straight." He dropped his perfect diction and went straight for the jugular. "Connor--do you want to fuck men or women?"

Connor's LED spun red to yellow for a moment, shock on his face. It soon slipped into an expression of amusement, however, and he crossed his arms over his chest as he discreetly glanced around the department. 

 

"Huh. I thought it was obvious." He gave his successor a teasing smile. "It's okay. I like to think of myself as... enjoying the feminine form. Curves are definitely my thing. At least more so than hard, sharp lines."

Connor regarded RK900 up and down curiously. 

 

"I should have thought you would know this. After all, you are me." At Conan's blanching expression, Connor laughed. "You take everything far too seriously, brother! You should do well to try to loosen up every once in a while. Maybe you should spend more time with Detective Anderson." 

Connor nodded in your direction and Conan caught the light tint of blue that hit Connor's cheeks when he thought about you. 

Bingo. 

 

"Ah, yes. Detective Anderson." Conan pulled on his most seductive grin, elbowing Connor in the ribs jovially. "Now, there's a human I'd love to get to know each and every inch of. I mean, know." 

Conan glanced at you, biting his lip softly. Connor stiffened almost imperceptibly. 

 

"I'd prefer it if you didn't use such crude terms to describe the Lieutenant's daughter," Connor muttered. "She deserves the utmost respect and courtesy." 

 

"Oh, I absolutely agree with you, Connor," the RK900 replied. "And I know she could easily kick both of our asses. But... Still. I wouldn't mind having the opportunity to fuck her senseless." 

Connor sent a glare at his younger brother, distaste showing on his face. How dare he speak of you in such a callous and crass manner? He was liking Conan less and less. 

 

"I've got a witness to interrogate with Hank. If you'll excuse me, RK900." He sidestepped to avoid colliding with his fellow and left Conan smiling to himself. 

 


 

"The good news is, he's definitely interested. He defended your honor and everything." Conan flipped a 2002 quarter between his fingers. "The bad news is, I don't think he's going to pursue you on his own. If I had to guess, I would venture that it would take you being in a damsel-in-distress situation before he'd pull his head out of his ass and become your knight in shining armor." 

You sagged in your seat, your lunch beginning to fall from your hands in defeat. Great. The last thing you could ever be was a damsel-in-distress. You were more aggressive and self-reliant than even your father, and that was saying something. 

 

"Hey. Lose the sad face. I have a plan." 

 

"Really?" You glanced up at him, skepticism pinching your features. "I doubt that it'll work, but, sure--lay it on me." 

He wrinkled his nose. 

 

"Ouch. Ye of so little faith. Ugh, whatever." He adjusted himself in his seat, leaning closer so no one could overhear him in the busy deli. "Say he were to catch me about to punch your V-card. I see two possible futures: he'd join us, or he'd beat me senseless and then take it for himself." 

You rolled your eyes and shoved him away. 

 

"You just want to see me naked." 

 

"Is that a crime?" Conan shot you a predatory grin. "Like I said, it would take you being in need of rescuing for him to pursue you on his own." 

 

"How about no. I get in enough trouble as it is, I don't need more." You tapped your lip with your pointer finger, glancing around at the buildings all around. "Did he get jealous when you mentioned your more... lewd intentions?"

 

"I'd say he got very defensive."

 

"Alright. New plan." You met Conan's silvery eyes with determination. "Alright. You can pursue me in the office. But you have to keep it PG around my dad. If Connor's around, you can whisper provocative things, but only at a volume that he would be able to hear. I can't afford the fortune of shipping you off to CyberLife to get you fixed. Whenever the two of you are alone, mention how much I talk about Connor. Just remember, the desired course of action is to get him to ask me out before you get the chance to fuck me. Got it?"

Conan licked his lips, his expression verging on downright pornographic.

 

"Detective Anderson, it would be my absolute pleasure." 

 


 

Chris guffawed at you, nearly falling back in his chair. 

 

"Are you serious? You can't be fucking serious," He laughed. When your face didn't change, his expression went slack. "Oh. Shit. You are serious." 

You shrugged. 

 

"Um, Anderson, honey, are you sure you wanna do it this way? You could just, I dunno, tell Detective Swoon-Bot about your feelings?" He crossed his arms. "I feel like this is a whole lot of unnecessary deception and espionage for something that is really much simpler than you think." 

 

"Chris, if I wanted a lecture on chastity and righteousness I would've gone to my father." You shifted on your feet, glancing around. "I just need your help with this one thing."

 

"I feel like I'm getting way too invested in the life of my intern." He sighed dramatically. "Fine. But you owe me, kiddo."

You grinned and hugged Officer Miller tightly. 

 

"Thank you, Chris! I promise I'll make it up to you!" 

 

"Yeah, yeah--now go get some and leave me alone." 

You laughed. 

 

"Sure thing, Miller." With a wink, you disappeared to make a phone call to his wife about sensitive materials. 

Everything was falling into place. 

You hoped you'd be ready.

 

 

Chapter Text

You were definitely in trouble. 

Hank was becoming frustrated, and you could've sworn you heard him say something along the lines of, "just fucking make a choice already!"

Gavin was immensely suspicious of some plot among the three of you, and he kept a close eye on your interactions. He went with you on almost every case, as though his presence would hinder anything that was going on enough for him to figure it out. You could almost see the gears turning in his tiny brain. Unfortunately, Gavin harassed you more than you cared for, but both Connor and Conan jumped to your defense.

The final blow came from Conan after arriving on scene for a double homicide in the Rose District. 

 

"Gavin, you're so unnecessarily cruel. Nobody likes you. Why do you even bother?" Conan's voice bit out in the twilight, his breath clouding the air. 

Reed narrowed his eyes at the twin androids, his expression full of loathing. 

 

"The important people like me. Everyone else is inconsequential." He flicked his eyes to you. "I don't know what you see in these tin cans, Anderson. I hope they fuck better than they look." 

He spat at Connor's feet and stalked off to report to Hank. 

Connor's LED spun red. Where on earth did Reed come from with such a remark? Surely that didn't mean--it couldn't possibly imply that--

Oh. 

Oh.

You were hiding your red cheeks in the lapels of your peacoat, but it wasn't lost on either android. Conan's lip curled in satisfaction. 

 

"Would you like to test that theory, Young Anderson?"

You blushed furiously but held your ground. 

 

"Not at present, RK900. I think there's a lady in there that needs your attention more urgently."  You indicated, cheekily, at the murder vic in the hallway. 

 

"That, my dear Connor, is a double-edged response. In other words, she's not outright denying her desire, but rather putting a pin in that comment to revisit at a later date." Conan grinned fiendishly at you. 

Connor's spine stiffened and he shifted almost imperceptibly closer to you, positioning himself discreetly between you and Conan. You slipped away while the boys were preoccupied with one another, conversing with Hank about the murder vic like a good little intern--actually doing your job, unlike your "partners in crime." 

 

"Conan, do you ever hear yourself when you speak? Sometimes you're worse than Gavin, I swear." Connor shook his head in shame, regarding Conan with disdain. "Learn to recognise when a lady is not in the mood for such crass talk." 

Conan didn't lose the grin. 

 

"Ah, but that's where you're wrong, brother dear," Conan chimed. "She's grinding her thighs together. She's horny as fuck, and she wants us. Gavvy Boy actually hit the nail on the head for what she wants--which is both of us at the same time." 

Connor discreetly glanced in your direction and was rewarded with the sight of your arousal. You talked with Chris as though nothing was wrong, but even Connor could see that you were begging for some kind of friction. He worried the inside of his lip, his LED flashing yellow. He wanted to be the source of that friction, but he didn't dare... did he?

Conan snickered softly and clapped his hand on Connor's back enthusiastically. 

 

"Just ask her, Robo-Cop! If you wanna fuck her brains out, just tell her that so we can all go home!" 

Connor whirled on his brother with seething anger in his eyes unlike anything the RK900 had ever seen before.

 

"I will not stand for that sort of talk about Hank's daughter! How dare you speak of her in that way!" Connor prodded Conan's chest, emphasizing each point. "You have no right to treat her like a piece of meat! Not when she's as beautiful, intelligent, funny, and caring as she is! You will step off unless you want a problem, brother. If you try anything untoward, I will give you war."

Conan's LED flickered red momentarily before a grin split his face. 

 

"Fuck, Connor. If we weren't related, I might be just a little bit turned on." He shrugged. "Alright. I'll back off. But on one condition--you have to grow a pair and actually ask her out on a date. If you don't ask her by Friday afternoon, I'm going in for the kill whether you like it or not." 

Fear washed over Connor's face and he took a step back, his fists dissolving as he took in the challenge. 

 

"What? But--but that's tomorrow! That's not enough time! I can't--!"

Conan smirked. 

 

"Cool. In that case, Young Anderson is getting a new sex toy." Conan winked. "Hint, hint--it's me."

Conan straightened his jacket collar, about to saunter towards you and uphold his end of the bargain--before Connor stopped him with a palm on his chest.

 

"Go to hell, Conan. You want me to ask her out? Fine." 

Conan wasn't sure he was ready for it just yet. 

You'd wrapped up your investigation with the tenants and were starting to round everyone up. 

 

"Come on, boys! We're done here, if you can stop socializing long enough to notice," Your voice took on a singsongy quality. "You're riding with me, Hank's gotta see Fowler." 

Connor forced his way into shotgun before Conan could protest, earning you a wink from the more advanced android. 

 

"Don't worry, baby," He muttered as he passed. "Everything's under control." 

You rode in silence for a few minutes until you turned on the radio irritably. 

 

"I hate awkward silences," You clarified. Alternative rock blasted from your state-of-the-art speakers, drowning out any troublesome thoughts you might've had about the androids sitting in silence around you. 

It only lasted a few minutes through two songs before Connor switched off the radio, determination showing on his features. 

 

"I--I have something I want to ask you," His voice wavered only a little, which he counted as a victory, and continued. "Would you like to go on a date with me, Detective Anderson?"

Your heart stuttered in your chest, threatening to make you crash the car. You pulled up to Hank's house just in time, however, and managed to park before your meltdown occurred. You struggled for breath, meeting his eyes with apprehension. 

 

"Wait--Really?" You tried to comprehend every possible alternate meaning of his words, but it was unavoidable.

He actually wanted you. How? Why? 

Connor nodded, confusion knotting his brow. 

 

"What--Why? Why do you like me?" When he couldn't answer right away, you became a little angry. "Why?"  

You whirled on Conan. 

 

"You told him, didn't you? You forced him into this." You curled your lip in disgust at the RK900. "God, I feel so stupid." 

You left the car without another word. Conan glared at the back of Connor's neck. 

 

"Connor, if you were looking for a chance to shower her in compliments and describe every last thing you wanted to do to her... That was it!" 

Conan tsked in disappointment at his brother's speechless silence.

 

"You really are useless at this." 

 

"I--I choked, I didn't know how to tell her everything I was thinking! I love her so much, but I couldn't make it come out," Connor shook his head, as though trying to clear it as realization struck him. "I love her. What the fuck am I still doing here?" 

He escaped the vehicle harriedly, racing up the steps after you. Conan remained in the back seat. 

 

"Did Connor seriously just swear?" He chuckled softly to himself. 

Perhaps it was his own fault. Not only was he a bad influence on Connor, but he meddled in matters he oughtn't. 

Like your love life. 

Conan sat in the car, resting his face in his hands. If he knew anything about either of you, and he was sure he did, you were probably kissing Connor by now. Conan was many things, but he wasn't heartless. He would never get in the way of your happiness. 

Even if it meant he broke himself in the process. 

Indeed, he had brought this upon himself. Conan hated the way he was, sometimes. It was in his nature to push away that which he loved, it seemed. First with she-who-must-not-be-named, and now with you... 

Bad luck seemed to be perpetually his. 

If he had his way, Conan would just forget. Reboot his progress, up to his last backup. Lose all of his deviant feelings for you. It would be better that way, he thought. That way, you and Connor could be happy together, without having to worry about him getting in the way. His mind hovered over the command, wondering if he should just give up on you.

He grunted. No, the last thing he wanted was to forget you. It was far too precious, his memory of you, to be thrown away so freely. 

It seemed as though the heartbreaker was cursed to be forever heartbroken. It was a cruel irony, and Conan hated every fibre of his being for what he had allowed himself to become. What he'd allowed himself to feel for you.

 


 

"Detective! Stop!"

Connor caught your arm, turning you to face him. His eyes blazed with conviction as he pulled you into his chest, forcing you to look at him.

 

"You never gave me a chance," He whispered. 

 

"I gave you every chance, Connor. If it isn't meant to be, I don't want to force it." 

 

"Damn it, Anderson! Shut up and let me speak!" 

You huffed but remained silent.

 

"You are the kindest, sweetest, most determined detective I've ever met. You don't let anything get in your way. You know what you want, and you go for it." His LED spun as he pondered his next words. "Detective, I envy you. Sometimes, you irritate me. But, at the core of everything, you matter above all else. Damn the mission, hang the law--I love you." 

You blinked back tears and let your forehead fall to rest on his chest. 

 

"You don't really mean that. Conan put you up to this." 

 

"Oh, fuck Conan! I wish you would stop trying to pin everything on him! Accept the fact that I feel things for you, you stubborn--!"

Your lips found his, and his argument halted faster than it had began. He melted into you, his hands soft where they rested on your skin, his hair ticking your face as he tilted into you. 

It ended all too soon, and he looked disappointed when you pulled away. But he had to know the truth. 

 

"I'm so sorry, Connor." Your voice shook. "I--I've been lying to you. Conan's been feeding these thoughts into your head. He has a connection to your mind, he can feel everything you do, and--" 

 

"That's a load of bull," He growled. "I've loved you for months. You only started talking to Conan last week. Stop making excuses, and tell me why you want to--to--explain all of this away! Why don't you want this to work?"

You let out a frustrated roar and pushed away from him, raking your fingernails through your hair as you paced back and forth. 

 

"Is everything alright out here? I heard a commotion." 

 

"NO, Conan. It's not." You were on a warpath. Your voice rang harshly in the crisp afternoon. "Jesus, everything is so wrong..."

You hated how easily you fell in love. It was pathetic. Not even two weeks in his company, and you were already feeling--feeling--

Definitely not what you wanted to feel. 

 

"Why? Aren't you two madly in love?"

 

"I thought so, but apparently it's less requited than I assumed," Connor commented. "At this point, it's more 'madly' than anything else."

You snarled at the two of them, supporting that conclusion. 

 

"Just tell us what's wrong." Weirdly, Conan was the one with the level head.

 

"I'm being stupid, is what's wrong," You raked your fingernails over your arms, as though trying to wake yourself up from being trapped in a nightmare. "I'm behaving like a fucking high schooler, I care too much and I don't know how to fucking turn it off--!"

Conan grabbed your wrists and suspended them away from you to keep you from causing more bodily harm.

 

"I'm angry because I don't know what I feel anymore," You relented. 

 

"Do you want me to clarify how I feel?"

You didn't answer. He gripped your wrists tighter, pulling you closer to his torso. 

 

"You are the most infuriating, confusing, insufferable confounding variable I have ever encountered," Conan growled. "You make it impossible for me to think straight, I lose all bearing on logic and reasoning whenever you're near--and despite everything, I still love you." 

He met your eyes with a righteous fury, cutting you off before you could even start with what he knew you would say.

 

"And fucking stop it with the whole I don't know why you like me spiel. You're fucking gorgeous, and you had better get used to being called out on it, because I intend on reminding you every fucking day for the rest of my life."

You were caught between two nearly identical androids, aggressive and passive. One like warm melted chocolate, the other volatile and stormy as the sea. The problem was never either of them--it was you. You and your stupid human heart that bled for every living thing. 

The same heart that was now being rended in two.

You were standing in a burning field, with no clear exit. Two hounds hunted and bayed for your lifeblood, but you weren't sure if you could offer it as freely as they begged for it. You were a hardened shell of a person, more easily turning your back on your heart than anything else, purely from muscle memory. 

 

"I just--" You wrenched your arms from Conan's grasp, falling into the grass on your knees. "--feel so fucking selfish."

Connor and Conan knelt in front of you, light and dark. Warm and cool. They looked so much the same, and yet were as different as night and day. 

 

"I--Conan, I'm sorry. I'm angry at myself. Somehow, I managed to fall in love with you, too." You turned to Connor. "I don't know why I'm made this way. I feel so strongly for you, Connor--but I can't ignore how Conan makes me feel, either. I don't know what to do." 

You let your face fall into your hands, tears leaking from your eyes. 

 

"Maybe, we're all selfish things." Conan placed a hand on your knee, drawing your gaze up to meet his. He offered you a sad smile. "I don't know about you, Connor, but--I'm willing to share if you are." 

You blinked dumbly. Wait, what? 

Did he just--? 

 

"I'd hate to be the source of your unhappiness, Detective." Connor sighed but offered you a reassuring smile. "I'd be willing to have a portion of your love, if that's what it took. I know what it's like to be forced to give up half of your soul. I don't want you to suffer that."

You rubbernecked between each android, your eyes widening. Was this even real?

Holy fuck. 

What did you just get yourself into?

 

Chapter Text

It was definitely not what you'd expected to be talking to Hank about over dinner that weekend.

Your father choked on his spaghetti, his face turning a deep eggplant as he struggled to focus on what you'd just said. 

 

"Ex-cyoos--Me-hee?!" He hacked on his pasta, chugging down some water to try to stem his cough. "Jesus--Kiddo, what the fuck are you thinking?! You can't just date both of them--!"

 

"Why not? They're okay with it." 

 

"Because--it's just wrong! It should be that everyone gets one partner, and one only. This is just your lust talking, if you really think it through, you'll see that it's complete madness!"

 

"Ahem--Lieutenant?"

Hank swiveled in his seat to glare at Connor, who was sheepishly standing by his bedroom door. 

 

"If I may interject, polyamorous relationships are more common than you may think. Conan, your daughter and I have talked about this extensively, setting boundaries and conditions that will not be broken unless explicitly discussed beforehand. We will protect her with our lives, the last thing we would ever want is for her to come to harm."

 

"Fuck, I did not want to know that you talked about sex. Jesus. My daughter. Fuck." He ran a hand over his face, huffing and letting a gust of air out through his nostrils roughly.

Hank narrowed his eyes at Connor, grinding his teeth in rage, consternation, hell--probably disgust at this point--and made a low grunting growl escape his throat. 

 

"Ugh. I don't want to know anything. ANYTHING. You understand, you hear me? You keep your nocturnal activities to your damn selves. My daughter is still a precious gift to me and if either of you hurt her in any way, I will end you. Got it?"

You sighed and rolled your eyes behind Hank, thinking it an empty and unnecessary statement. Hank couldn't hurt Connor if he tried. Though he never said it, Hank cared too much about Connor--more than he would ever admit even to himself. 

Connor smiled and nodded demurely. 

 

"Of course, Lieutenant. We will protect her with our lives, at any cost. Though I cannot quantify the deepness or seriousness of emotions, I have been told that what we feel for her is identified as love." He shot you a sheepish glance, light blue dusting his cheeks. "Although, at present, we shall refrain from saying as such, until we can discern how it actually unfolds." 

You gave Connor a discreet thumbs-up, winking. He beamed and Hank rotated in his seat. Connor was dismissed. He sent you one last soft glance before disappearing back into your room to gather the rest of your things. 

 

"That went better than I was expecting." You did your best to hide the grin plastered across your face; you couldn't help but reflect on all of the other ways it had gone before, in another life, long ago. 

 

"Hmph." Hank kept his eyes on his food, struggling to force it down now that he'd seemingly lost his appetite. Still, dutifully, he continued to consume what you had prepared for him. "I think I'm gonna miss your cooking more than anything else. Now I'm gonna have to go back to eating Spaghetti-O's out of a can." 

You snorted and punched him on the shoulder. 

 

"You'd better not! I'll beat you, your doctor said you have to watch your cholesterol." 

He sneered.

 

"I'll do whatever I damned well please, now that you're moving in with two Robo-Dicks." He grimaced. "Ech. Why did I give myself that image?"

Hank shuddered and chugged the rest of his beer in one go. 

Connor stepped into the foyer, his hands clasped behind his back as he waited for you to say your goodbyes. You sighed and stood, offering your hand to your father. Hank shook it and you yanked him into a bear hug. 

 

"I don't say it enough, Hank... but I love you. You're all I have since mom died. I don't want you to go anywhere." 

Though he was surprised at first, Hank melted into the hug. 

 

"I'm staying right here, Kiddo." A deep breath, "I love you, too." 

 

 


 

 

You dropped your last suitcase at the threshold of your new apartment. Conan and Connor's compensation for the work they did for the DPD was much better than you could hope to get paid in two years, considering their exorbitant maintenance costs. Thus, they chose the new place. 

Despite your reservations, you had to admit, your boys had taste. The entire place was decorated in soft shades of black, charcoal, and teal, with cream walls and floor-to-ceiling windows. 

It wasn't quite the penthouse floor, but it was high up enough in the building to warrant a few startled glances when you pressed your button. It opened directly into your living room, requiring your key card to allow you to make such a selection.

You sighed and kicked your bags in fully, shuttering the cover that blocked your new home from the prying eyes of the glass elevator. It was rather like a tiny mud room, but not quite. You slipped off your shoes and padded around, exploring the space. Shiny hardwood floors in a dark shade of mahogany met with charcoal tiles in the bathroom. You examined yourself in the large oval mirror, which had blue neon tubing framing it. 

It was no wonder that people had gawked at you when you had selected this floor. 

You were pretty disheveled from a long day at work. Connor and Conan went to the store to buy groceries for tonight's dinner. Your hair was sticking up from the rain, you'd have to blow-dry it to make it sit right again. Your eyelids were heavy and hollows had appeared beneath your eyes. Mascara smudged, lips dry. Yes, you looked like you belonged in a body bag rather than the 71st floor of the Starr Building. But--Conan had insisted on this place.

It really was gorgeous, you had to admit. Your androids had distinguished taste. The bathtub was a nice matte charcoal, with a set of frosted glass doors that slid out if one wanted to shower. The showerhead was voice activated and tucked away into the wall when not in use. You smiled to yourself as you played with these things, making lights flash and spin as you commanded your new things. 

Letting out a small giggle, you left the bathroom and turned off the lights. The mirror glowed a soft orange in standby mode, handy for if you would need to use the bathroom at night and didn't want to turn on the lights. 

You found yourself in a large bedroom, decorated with different shades of soft blue. Not quite turquoise, but more like baby blue or even mint, perhaps--you didn't really care, either way. It was beautiful. Lace accent pillows adorned your bed, which was covered in a light grey comforter that looked positively delicious. You grinned at the sight of it, imagining how amazing it would be to sleep in such a beautiful, fluffy thing. 

You opened your closet, finding all of your clothes already unpacked. Your shoes remained out in the hallway, but your slippers were on the floor already. You moaned in relief and stepped into them, squishing your toes in relish. You sloughed off your clothes and put on the fluffy robe you found on the back of your door, enjoying the feeling of it against your abused bare skin. 

You smiled when you glanced up from your reverie. Connor had even put up your Elvis poster. Conan had contributed a few art prints from your favorite artists (Barbara Kruger and Georgia O'Keefe, to name a few) but it made you smile to see that Connor had been listening to you even before his deviancy. After admiring the vanity and computer desk on the other side of your bed, you left and found a pair of conjoining rooms connected to yours. They were comparatively smaller, but then, your companions needed little to survive when considering your delicate mortal vessel. 

You immediately knew which was Conan's. His had a sleek black docking station in one corner, but the rest of it was filled with screens and information. He had a bulletin board with a list of clues laid out and connected with string, just like you taught him. The thought of that day warmed you to your core. His carpet was charcoal and his walls were black. 

Connor's room was different in a few ways. His walls were blue, with a white charging dock of a different model sitting facing his window. A surprisingly large bookshelf occupied an entire wall, with a wide variety of titles. Everything from Isaac Asimov and Philip K. Dick to Nietsche and Dr. William Todd Schultz lined his shelves, fact and fiction harmoniously coexisting in a combination that was undeniably Connor

He had taped a photograph of you and Hank next to his charging station, a small detail that filled you with emotion. I haven't seen a real, hard photograph in a long time.

With a final contented sigh, you came back into the main living space. 

On the one hand, you really should shower and look somewhat presentable for your boys when they came back. On the other, your bed was calling your name...

 

In the end, your desire to be clean won out. You showered in ecstasy, the hot water pummeling your sore muscles and battering the stiffness away. You scrubbed your head roughly, liking the feeling that shot through you. It was certainly better than nothing at all. 

You turned off the water and dried off, hearing the click of the main door as you towel-dried your hair. 

 

"Hey, Sexy! Are you home yet?" Conan's voice rang out and echoed in your new flat. 

 

"Yeah, gimme a few minutes, 'kay?"

 

"I see you've tested the water fixtures." 

You nearly jumped out of your skin. Conan was smirking at you from the doorway, eyeing your towel-wrapped form. He was quickly yanked back with the door slammed behind him as Connor scolded him. The sound made you want to giggle. 

 

"Jesus, Conan! She said a few minutes!" A very audible smack could be heard from beyond the closed door. "Keep it in your pants and start making her dinner, you pig." 

Conan snickered and his footsteps receded as he went to do as he was told. 

You rolled your eyes with a smile and finished blow-drying your hair into it's normal shape. With the bathroom as clean as before, you slipped into your room to get dressed. 

Feeling cheeky, you opted to go braless. you were, after all, at home; you had a right to relax and not have to worry about underwires. You put on a button-down shirt that you tucked into some comfortable stretchy slacks and kept your feet bare. Observing yourself, you assessed that at least you no longer looked like a drowned rat. Classy, yet comfortable. Plus, if you were being honest, you liked how the fabric of your shirt pressed against your breasts. 

With a small tsk, you left your room and made your debut into the kitchen.

Connor's jaw dropped when he saw you. 

 

"You--wow, I--" He looked like a fish out of water, gasping and wide-eyed as he stammered. 

Conan turned to face you and nearly dropped the pan he was holding. 

 

"Jesus H. Roosevelt Christ," He breathed. 

You blushed, lowering your eyes. 

 

"I don't look that bad, do I?"

 

"That," Conan intoned, "--is the exact opposite of what we meant." 

Connor let his breath escape him in a rush. Conan elbowed him in the ribs, his cocky grin returning. 

 

"She picked my shirt." 

 

"She's wearing my pants, though." Connor's LED blinked and he relaxed, offering you his hand. "Come here, Darling. We missed you." 

You stepped forward hesitantly, unsure. Conan frowned, picking up on your reluctance. 

 

"We're not going to hurt you, Dove. Promise." He set down his cookware and rested his palms on the counter, watching you intently. 

You took a deep breath, your fears slowly dissolving. It was still the two androids you knew and loved so well. 

Anxiety ebbing, you stepped into Connor's arms and let him envelop you in a sweet hug. You could hear his biocomponents pulsating and working beneath his shirt, feel the warmth emanating from his chassis. He held you close, resting his chin on the top of your head as you buried your face in his chest. His hands rubbed your back slowly, gently, letting your breath stutter and your body to shake. 

 

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry." You repeated it like a mantra. "It came out of nowhere this time. I'm sorry." Your body shook like a leaf in the wind. 

You felt Conan's presence come up behind you, his heat eveloping you as well. You were sandwiched between the two androids you loved more than life itself. 

Luckily, it didn't last nearly as long this time. Being with others definitely helped. 

 

"How long have you suffered from anxiety?" Connor's voice rumbled softly, full of concern. 

 

"It started last year. After my mom died. I never told anyone because I didn't think they'd understand. Mental health issues aren't really touched upon anymore, you know? I thought people would see me as weak." 

You grimaced, your back muscles tightening with an aftershock. 

 

"You should see a psychiatrist, you shouldn't suffer in silence like this." Conan this time.

 

"I did. He didn't believe me. Maybe I just got a bad one but he said I was imagining things, that it couldn't really be that severe." You shuddered and sighed, relaxing your arms to slide down and rest at Connor's hips. "That was when the panic attacks started."

Connor hummed in sympathy, running his palms up and down your arms in an effort to warm you. 

 

"Hey. You're okay." Conan purred into your hair, his breath warm on your scalp as he kissed your head. 

You nodded and patted Connor's side, leading him to release you. You sniffed, a little embarrassed, but not by much.

 

"I'm starving. What did you guys make?"

Conan pounced on the subject, his enthusiasm enviable. 

 

"Green chicken curry with carrots and naan. Chase it with some iced lemonade, and then we can move on to dessert." He winked at you as he pulled out your chair, letting Connor fill your glass. 

You scarfed and were done with your food in less than five minutes. Conan chuckled at your appetite and exchanged your dishes, offering creamy mango pearl rice and milk. It was all so delicious, you nearly moaned aloud. 

 

"Ooh, I can't wait to be the source of that sound." 

Oops. So maybe you did moan a little.

You shrugged.

 

"Hey, man. Food comes first, always. Nothing I can ever experience will come close. Food is my greatest joy in life." 

 

"You obviously haven't experienced android sex, then." 

That made you choke on a piece of mango. 

 

"Goddamn it, Conan!" You laughed, feeling your eyelids growing heavier by the second. "Ugh. As much as I want to test that theory, I'm exhausted and really need sleep."

You had to supress a yawn even as you spoke. Connor whisked your remaining dishes away and proceeded to clean up. Conan sighed and helped you up. 

 

"So early, Pretty Girl? It's only eight..." 

 

"I've been up since three, so yes, I need sleep." 

 

"3:00 in the morning?! Jesus, we need to fix your habits, my dear."

He helped you change into pajamas and let you lean on him while you brushed your teeth and put in your retainer.

Connor came into your room at around 8:10, leaning on the doorjamb with a watchful expression. 

 

"Do you need either of us to stay with you? We're both at full charge if you need us tonight." 

You sheepishly hid beneath your lashes. 

 

"Connor... Could you stay with me?" 

 

"Of course, my love." 

Connor left to change into pajamas himself, leaving Conan and you alone. 

 

"Why are you so scared of me, little Dove?" Conan whispered. 

 

"I'm not scared of you, Conan. I just feel like Connor is better suited for my more delicate side, you know? God, it sounds bad, but you always speak to my horny side. I'm way too tired to get in touch with my sexuality tonight, so I think I just want Connor cuddles." 

 

"Hey, I can cuddle too. I'm more realistically muscled and everything, I feel like a real man." 

 

"Baby, it's not your fault. I'm sure once we get more time together, it will get easier. I just don't wanna have to deal with a hard-on right now." 

Conan looked like he was about to object, but he shut his mouth as his LED spun. 

 

"Eh... Okay, fair enough. Sleep well, princess." He kissed your forehead and rose to leave, catching sight of Connor in green plaid pajama pants and a snug undershirt. 

 

"Take care of her, brother." 

 

"Always." Connor acknowledged his counterpart smoothly, waiting for his departure before turning to you and smiling. 

 

"I'm so ti--ti--tired," You yawned. 

He chuckled and sat on the edge of your bed. 

 

"Come on, Darling. Scoot over." 

You obliged him and he laid down beside you. 

 

You only lasted about thirty seconds before you found yourself on top of him, resting your head in the crook of his neck and shoulder, hugging him like a teddy bear, with one leg swung across him. Not even bothering to supress another yawn, you drifted off beside your best friend, thinking that this couldn't be so bad after all.

It could be worse. I have many people who love me, who will protect me--there are indeed worse fates than this. 

You were lulled to sleep by Connor's rhythmic breathing and his warmth, and for one night, at least, all was right with the world.

 

 

Chapter Text

Birds chirped in the early morning, drawing you out of your slumber. You sighed and stretched, squeezing Connor in a hug as you managed to rouse yourself. 

He smiled and rubbed your back slowly. 

 

"Good morning, sunshine. Sleep well?" 

 

"For the first time in a long time." 

 

"She'd have slept better if you'd had the balls to wear her out first."

You jumped. Conan was wedged in the doorway, arms crossed and eyebrow raised. Crystal orbs scrutinized your entangled forms, a smirk playing on his mouth. 

God, he looked too good. 

You shook your head. Since when am I actually horny? I'm usually too tired--

Ah. Sleep=heightened libdo. Fuck.

 

"Conan, must you make everything sexual?" Connor huffed.

 

"Of course. It's more fun that way." He winked at you. "Besides, she liked it, and that's all that matters."

Your face flushed indignantly. 

 

"Conan, get out of my room," Your eyes darted towards Connor. "I need to get ready for work."

Conan shrugged. 

 

"Fine. I'll meet you two at the station, then." He smiled and winked before closing your door. 

He knew. 

You wrung your hands as Connor watched you carefully.

 

"Why did you send him away, but not me?" His eyebrows were knitted and his LED was spinning furiously. 

You could feel him thinking it over.

 

"Maybe I lied about wanting to get ready for work." 

Connor blushed blue as he put two and two together. 

 

"What do you want from me, Detective?" His voice soft, like he was trying not to scare a doe. 

You didn't answer. You couldn't.

Connor rose from your bed with a sigh, his shoulders slumping a little. 

 

"Wait!" 

He paused. Your breathing was erratic, short intakes of air that couldn't be healthy. Panic?

 

"Please don't leave me..." On some level, you were disgusted at how quiet and pathetic your voice sounded.

A terrified, wounded animal. 

But, then again, that's what you were; underneath all of the bravado and bluster that came with being an Anderson, you were broken and deeply hurt inside. Maybe that's what drew you to Connor. He was patient, and kind, and saw the beauty in your broken heart. He wanted it, regardless of the shape it was in. 

One could almost say that he made you whole. 

Connor raked his hands through his hair in slight frustration and crossed your carpet to perch on the edge of your bed, his chocolate eyes boring into your frame. 

 

"Then talk to me, Anderson. What. Do. You. Want."

You flinched at his verbage, but finally met his eyes. God, Connor was beautiful. His frame was lithe, yet he was anything but small: his wide back and shoulders that led to his strong neck, supporting the face you loved so dearly. With a steeling breath, you uttered a small chuckle. 

 

"You." 

He made a surprised sound as you closed the distance between your lips and his, kissing him softly but in earnest. Your hands flew to his waist, trying to work the hem of his shirt higher.

Connor grunted and caught your wrists, panting as he pulled back to look at you. 

 

"I--You--" He stammered adorably, his cheeks dark. "What about Conan?"

 

"I don't want you to fuck me," You clarified, "Conan can do that if I desire something more rough. I want you to make love to me, Connor." 

He flicked his gaze over your frame, noticing that you weren't lust-filled as he had first thought. Your touch was gentle and precise, with your hands simply resting at his waist. Your voice was soft, your kneeling stance relaxed. No, you didn't want a mindless fucking. You wanted affection, love, to be adored--everything Connor could give you and more. 

Connor released the breath he'd been holding. He let his shoulders relax. 

 

"I was afraid you just wanted my body, and not my mind." He sheepishly avoided your eyes. "Conan... said a lot of things about what you wanted to do... both with me and to me."

You tsked. 

 

"Conan doesn't know anything. I never told him what I want from you." You smiled at his shock. "Hey, I'm not a mindless sex zombie like Conan thinks I am. I crave an emotional connection as much as you, honey."

Connor took a deep breath and let it out through his nose, a gentle smile lighting up his features. 

 

"I love you." He peeked at you from beneath his eyelashes to gauge your reaction.

 

"I love you, too, Connor." 

He laughed. 

 

"God, you have no idea how good it feels to hear you say that." 

 

"I think I do." You rested your forehead against his. "It feels like this."

 

The two of you sat like that for a while, resting and enjoying each other's presence. To your surprise, it was Connor who started to kiss you first. His lips ghosted over your neck, sending chills down your spine. He seemed to keep repeating it like a mantra with each kiss, each caress, every touch. I love you. I love you. I love you. 

They way his hands fit your frame so perfectly, it had to be meant to be. You were made for him, and he for you. 

Your tongues danced as he made himself acquainted with your body, his hands cartographers exploring your planes, crests, and valleys. 

It was a nearly spiritual experience, his movements measured and gentle. Much different than--

 

You sat bolt upright, accidentally knocking Connor away in your panic. 

 

"Ach! Connor, I'm so sorry, I--!" You struggled to regain your composure. There was nothing that should come between you and the android you loved, least of all--

His face flashed in your mind, his cold calculating smile and his hair wrapped up tight at his crown. The steely eyes and the glasses that had fooled you. You growled angrily, raking your fingernails down your arms in attempt to bring yourself back to reality. Here, now, with Connor, the sweetest boi you had ever laid eyes upon, who would never hurt you no matter how much you deserved it--

 

"Hey! Y/N! Darling, what's wrong?" 

Your haunted eyes darted to meet his, your breathing ragged as you struggled to push the elusive inventor from your headspace. 

 

"I'm okay--imokayimokayimokay--!"

Connor was the furthest thing possible from the monster that lurked in your memories. When you came back into yourself, you hid your face in shame. 

 

"God, I'm so sorry. I didn't want to ruin it and here I am freaking out for no reason--"

 

"Baby, what happened?" Connor propped himself up and pulled you into his embrace. "What..." 

His eyes darkened as he remembered who you'd been with last, so many years ago. The man who started your celibacy streak. 

 

"What did Kamski do to you?"