When Lieutenant Hank Anderson walked into the Detroit Police Department on Wednesday morning (very hungover and considerably late), there was this… little dude… sitting in front of his desk. Unlike Hank’s, the stranger’s uniform was neatly pressed and well-fitting on his lithe, muscular body. His brown hair was neatly shaved on the sides with one curl springing out of place on his forehead.
As Hank walked up to him his brain was trying to process everything about him but all he could think was, ‘Who the fuck are you?’ Luckily, what came out of his mouth was, “Can I help you?”
The young guy stood up, giving Hank a look the aged Lieutenant couldn’t quiet place; it was somewhere between nervous, intimidated and enamored. He cheerfully extended his hand out and smiled, “Lieutenant Anderson, my name is Connor. I was hired by Captain Fowler as a new officer. He assigned me to be your partner.”
Hank could do nothing but stare in confusion, definitely making a fool out of himself as he stood still in place in the middle of the bullpen, mouth agape and unmoving. Instead of shaking Connor’s hand, Hank grabbed his small wrist and dragged him to Fowler’s office. Opening up the glass doors of the Captain’s office, Hank asked with no real sensitivity, “Who the fuck is this?”
Knowing this conversation was coming, Jeffery didn’t even have to look up from his paperwork, “This is Connor, he’s your new partner.” His face wasn't remotely apologetic; having known Hank for years, he knew how the Lieutenant could behave.
Still fighting the sudden and unapproved change, Hank shook his head, “Uhh, no the fuck he isn’t.”
Finally, Fowler looked up at Hank who still had Connor’s boney wrist in his hand and his soaking wet patrol jacket still on. Sounding exhausted, Jeffery ran a hand over his face, “Hank, for Christ’s sake. He was top of his class, just like you. He just graduated from the academy, he needs experience.”
'Experience?!' “What about Tina or Chris or Ben?” At this point, Hank was reaching and both him and Fowler knew it. The only person who didn’t was Connor who finally spoke up, “If my presence causes issues—” He was quickly cut off by the two older men in front of him, “Shut up!” And that, he did, not wanting to make a bad impression on his first day... however, maybe it's too late for that?
Losing his patience with the senior Lieutenant, Fowler snapped with a hand slamming on his white desk, “Train the rookie and I won’t add this insubordination to your already impressive record!”
Looking like he might stab somebody, Hank left the office, his heavy, black boots slamming on the stairs and over to his desk. Trying to be obedient, Connor followed him and stopped by the Lieutenant’s chair. Sounding as cheerful as he could, Connor said, “I look forward to working with you, Lieutenant. If there’s anything I can do to make our time together more bearable for you, let me know.”
‘Please, God. Let me not kill him.’ Hank took a very slow, deep, measured breath and ran his hands through his grey hair and managed to say, “You can start by sitting down and not lurking over my shoulder.”
Immediately listening to Hank, Connor sat at the empty desk across from him and started to set up his desktop and department account until a half-hour later when Hank spoke up, some of the previous bite gone form his voice, “Hey, fresh meat. Get up.”
Connor was immediately on his feet as he waited for Hank to stand up. As they walked out to Hank’s patrol car, Hank briefed Connor on the call they were going to; a single-person homicide. Basic but still horrible. Hank hoped that Connor had a strong stomach, the smell was usually the first thing to hit people.
Inside the house, Connor listened quietly as Hank walked him through the situation. He couldn’t help to but allow himself a small smile at how eager Connor was to learn. Hank remembered what it was like to be a rookie, how exciting and new it all was. As he looked at Connor, he couldn't help but stare at his observant brown eyes, soft styled hair and fit body. Before he could stop himself he thought, ‘Damn… this kid is actually kind of attractive.’
When they left, Hank finally asked Connor what he thought happened, curious as to how intuitive he was. Connor’s answer was well-thought out and calculated, “It seems like a domestic abuse case escalated by the male’s consistent use of Red Ice.”
Sure, it was easy enough to figure out but after all, it was the kid’s first day on the job. Back at the station, Hank had the district attorney make up a warrant for the husband’s arrest. After showing Connor how to fill out a stupid amount of paperwork, Hank decided that it was a good time to leave for the day. As he got up to leave, Connor picked his head up and hopefully said, “Before you go, Lieutenant, is there anything else I can do?”
Being tired from his day and the stress of it, Hank snapped, “No.” And that was the last thing he said to Connor before he left.
As Connor finished looking through the files, Chris Miller, a now fellow officer, placed a hand on Connor’s shoulder, “Don’t worry, Hank will warm up to you. He’s a good guy.” All the young officer could think was, ‘I sure hope so.’
Having nothing else to do for the day, Connor got in his plain sedan and drove the short distance to his little, bare apartment. As he cooked his usual dinner of chicken and salad, Connor thought back on the day he’d had. The station was nice enough with it’s cleanliness and employee. The crime scene had been mildly horrific but nothing he hadn’t seen from the academy. But out of everything what stuck in his thoughts was Hank. That grouchy, hungover, bitter man who Connor couldn’t help but find ridiculously, horribly, helplessly attractive. He was easily half a foot taller than Connor and had almost 85 pounds on him. Hank’s blue eyes were something Connor had to keep prying his own eyes away from. He fell asleep that night hoping that he could make Lieutenant Anderson happy.
The next day Connor showed up perfectly on time so when he saw Hank walking into the station, he decided to get up and get his partner a coffee. Assuming he drank it black, that’s how Connor made it. When he handed Hank the mug, he got a half-hearted but grateful grunt of a ‘thank you’ in reply but that was enough for Connor to feel a small bloom of pride in his chest.
After sitting in silence for an uncomfortable length of time, Connor cleared his throat and spoke up, “Lieutenant, I believe that we should focus on the homicide from yesterday.”
Giving him a nasty, fed-up look in return, Hank sneered, “I believe you should fuck off.”
Connor sunk into his black chair, feeling salty about getting nothing done. That was until Captain David Allen, a member of the DPD SWAT unit, walked into the bullpen; the older man commanded authority without ever having to say anything. He held himself with pride and respect (the pure muscle of him, his black uniform, and obvious firearm just backed it up). Walking up behind Connor he didn’t miss a beat before coldly greeting, “Connor.”
Hank could see his partner instantly tense and sit straight up before answering, “Hello, sir.”
After David was already gone and in Fowler’s office, Hank chuckled, “Wow, second day and Allen already knows you.” Historically, Hank wasn't crazy about Captain Allen, he always took things too seriously and too far. Luckily, it wasn't often that they had to work together.
Visibly looking upset and almost ashamed, Connor was barely able to make eye contact with Hank before answering, “He’s my father.”