#being “a hank” and its just. me drawing myself all the fucking time pretty much and forgetting whats canon and whats just me lol

[kr0hbar]

any silly hcs for Hank?

easy

[that-gt-and-vore-stuffs]

Desires and Daydreams

Me: oh yeah I’ll have this edited and out by tomorrow morning! Also Me: Ha! Sike! Time fo post at night again :)

All in all I’m so sorry this took so long for me to get out. A busy week with ball fucked me over time and energy wise. However, I now have a full 7k word fic for y’all so that’s good! I quite literally just finished editing this so I hope it’s as good as my mind told me it was about two minutes ago. Especially considering it’s a little gift of sorts for the amazing @doodlevore (AKA I saw this gem of a drawing, flipped out for a hot minute, and then decided it was writing time) Anyway, I hope y’all enjoy and I hope I did your artwork justice Doodle :)

As always, Vore under the cut :)

“Aw c’mon Doc!” the man halfheartedly whined as he attempted again to grab the small ‘medic’. Once more 2b had ducked under his hand, glaring up at him through his goggles. The taller of the two just laughed at the sight, near daggers of teeth glimmering through his toothy grin. No way in hell could he take that glare seriously like this. “You act like I was planning to hurt you. You really think I’m gonna hurt ya?”

“No,” 2b started, halting his words momentarily to dodge another attempted swipe at him. Getting caught by the man wouldn’t be the worst thing, sure - hell, he could name several things automatically worse than being grabbed by him in this hellscape of Nevada - however that did not mean that he wanted to be scooped up like some doll and put through whatever his teammate had in mind for him and the other two who were both currently busy dodging the taller’s other hand. Again his glare settled on the younger hacker. “But that does not mean I’m going to keel over and let you do whatever, Deimos. Now would you stop trying to grab us for five minutes!”

“But what’s the fun in that?” Deimos protested, swiping at Hank only for the shrunken mercenary to vault themself over his hand. Go figure, he was still going to be difficult. Hell, they all were. When he was the smallest of the group he was at their mercy and even went with it half the time, but the moment he got to have some fun they all decided to be as difficult as possible. In all honesty it wasn’t as bad as he was making it seem. Watching them run around like little mice was pretty entertaining. That didn’t mean he didn’t have plans he wanted to follow through with though! Whatever, he’d play their games for now. He’d get them eventually, and when he did he’d have his fun. “I’d stop if you all would just stand still for five seconds, but no. You all clearly wanna play so I’m gonna keep up the cat and mouse game we’ve got going.”

“But that- Deimos, you aren’t getting my point here at all!” 2b yelled up at the man, ducking under yet another swipe at him made by the youngest of their little crew. He was fairly certain it was impossible to miss what he was saying so either Deimos was less intelligent then he had grown to suspect over the years or he was flat out ignoring the man’s request to quit trying to grab them. A brief comparison of the two had crossed out the former option rather quickly. That cocky, smoking son of a gun. “Sanford! A little help?”

“Why me?” The Chad of a man yelled back as he scrambled to his feet after having to get down to avoid being grabbed. In the back of his mind he already had a sneaking suspicion as to why he was asked. He wasn’t stupid after all.

“He usually listens to you better than me!” The older hacker shot back, nearly running into Hank as he prepared himself for the next ‘attack’.

“So we’re playing that card now. Good to know.” Sanford grumbled softly, no real venom in his tone. 2b was right, at least in most contexts. He probably was the closest to Deimos out of them all and the other two’s usual intimidating approach to get Deimos to listen really wouldn’t work with them the size of the man’s hand. A sigh tugged itself from his throat as he directed his words up at the seemingly giant hacker. “Dei, c’mon now. Can’t you quit with the whole trying to grab us thing? It’s- AH!- not all that fun!”

“Damnit.” Deimos cursed under his breath, having missed Sanford yet again. Who knew trying to just grab his teammates would be so difficult. It was definitely fun, this little game of cat and mouse like in those old cartoons he’d managed to pirate, but it was still harder than he expected to actually grab them. Guess not everything gets to come easy. Or maybe he was going too easy… “Maybe not for you. Just stand still and make it easier on yourself if you’re having such a bad time.”

“That’s- Dei, you chucklehead, quit the games already and stop trying to grab us like rodents!”

Deimos just shook his head, a low laugh rumbling in his chest. His grin still stood proud on his face in all its sharp toothed glory. This was too much fun to give up so easily. Really, they expected him to quit the moment he started having fun? Please. He’d gone through too much to waste his opportunity. Getting his hands on shrinking tech had to be the best thing that’s ever happened to him, despite the difficulties and hurdles he had to jump to do such a thing. What had been a normal, boring day with no missions had turned into him watching his three shrunken teammates dash across the worn table while dodging his attempts to grab them. He was going to enjoy this, whether they liked it or not. Call this revenge for all the times he was teased for being the smallest out of all of them, or call it him being an ass. He didn’t care. For once the younger hacker wasn’t the small one in the group and boy did he have plans for it. Oh he had plans…

“Mmm…how ‘bout no.” Deimos hummed, slamming a hand down on the table next to 2b. Just as he’d hoped the man tensed, trying to keep himself steady on the shaking table. His eyes locked onto the temporarily paralyzed unofficial medic like a hawk’s to its prey, smirk morphing into a full on grin. Without hesitation he grabbed the man in a firm fist. There was one of the three. “Ha! Gotcha Doc~!”

“Mmgh- I can see that, Deimos. Now put me down!” 2BDamned didn’t shout at his teammates often. There were a few times he did, yes. Prime examples of such times included (but weren’t limited to) tracking blood all over the base, doing something absolutely reckless and facing the consequences, not following the plans they had for missions, etc. Not once had he expected to ever be yelling at one of them, specifically the smallest of their team, to put him down. Hank? Maybe. Sanford? Long shot but not impossible. Deimos? No. And yet here he was, trapped within the grasp of the younger hacker with seemingly no way to escape. It’s not like the little wiggling that his loose enough to be breathable yet tight confines could do was helping much.

“But what if I don’t wanna, Doc?” Deimos hummed, resting his other hand on the table for the first time in the past twenty-five minutes that he’d been trying to grab the others. “What if I wanna keep you trapped in my fist for the rest of the day huh? Maybe longer. It’s not like you can exactly free yourself, now can you? Huh? You gonna wiggle yourself out of my hand, 2b? Claw your way out like some baby kitten?”

“I swear to Jebus, once we’re back to normal I am going to kill you myself.” The dissenter growled, trying again to free himself from his confines. He could only imagine how utterly idiotic he looked, wiggling around like some fish out of water in Deimos’s hand. Talk about humiliating.

“Sure you will. Sure.” Deimos rolled his eyes, shaking his head as he thought through his next moves. He could just grab the other two and get on with his plans but…oh that ruined the fun of the chase! His plans and stomach could wait, he wanted to enjoy this just a little longer. Now what could he do to achieve such a thing? “And besides, that’s an ‘if’ to you, Doc. If you get back to normal. Can’t do that without my help after all, so maybe you should let me have my fun~”

“I will. Don’t think I- wait. What?” Well now that wasn’t something anyone stuck at four inches tall wanted to hear. Yes, he could probably figure out how the hell Deimos shrunk him (assuming that the hacker had gotten the information and technology from the AAHW) however Deimos had at least a bit of a point. Things would be so much easier, faster, and less dangerous if he just reversed whatever the hell he did. He….he fucking planned this. He- oh the younger hacker was in some deep shit once they were back and he was the smallest again.

“Mmm you heard me, 2b. Getting you three back requires the help of me, unless you’d rather be crushed under the boot of some agent trying to get back to normal yourselves.” Deimos hummed, his words practically swimming in cockiness. “And I don’t think any of us want that. So either you let me have my fun, or you three get to stay pocket sized until you do.”

“Deimos, don’t you even think about it.” Hank growled, eyes narrowing behind his goggles as he stepped closer to the hacker. Being this small was bad enough. It wasn’t like a MAG agent where they weren’t completely dwarfed in size. No. He was stuck the size of a fucking mouse being toyed with by their basically gigantic teammate. And to top it all off the threat of being stuck at this size now loomed over the mercenary’s head. Just fucking wonderful.

“Aw but what if I did, Hank?” The hacker asked with a raise of his eyebrow, turning his attention from the medic in his fist to the shrunken killing machine that was now glaring at him over his arm. It really was something else to see them so tiny when they usually towered over everyone. How the tables turn. “I would think this is a nice situation for you. So long as you’re hidden it’s not like the Agency could find you now. No ones gonna look for a four inch tall Hank, now are they- Hey! Sanford!”

The mentioned man’s head lifted from where he had landed on the table, 2b now laying next to him after a less than graceful ‘rescue’ from the younger hacker’s hand. His feet scrambled against the old table, attempting to gain enough traction to allow for him to stand. For a moment he looked as if he were trying to stand on ice, feet slipping out from beneath him. The doctor beside him wasn’t doing much better in the department of getting to his feet. Judging by the disappointed stare he felt burning two holes into his chest once he finally got to his feet, Hank wasn’t all that impressed with their sudden lack of coordination either. Wait, no. Hank could come later. Right now he had to deal with the giant Deimos that was currently pouting at him.

“Sorry Dei, but I’m siding with Doc here. Just put us back to normal before Hank decides to find a way to kill you at this size.” As Sanford spoke a tone far less confident then he had hoped for laced his words. Something that probably doomed him to not be listened to. Judging by the new level of cocky smeared across the hacker’s face? He was right too. Well shit. That didn’t help anything.

“Hmm…maybe but, and hear me out, I’ve got a better idea.” No one had to ask exactly what Deimos’ ‘better idea’ was. He was all too happy to demonstrate it, Hank quickly finding himself laying flat against the table with the hacker’s hand pinning him in place. The small shocked grunt from the mercenary didn’t go unnoticed by the other two, their eyes darting to their now trapped teammate. Both failed to notice the brief warning look in Hank’s eyes behind his goggles until it was too late, a warm calloused hand pinning them to the rough grain of the wood. Well, there went the idea of escape.

A sharp laugh chased away the silence that had previously filled the air. Beneath the rim of his visor two eyes simply watched as the three small forms writhed beneath his hands. Proof of the point he had been trying to prove. The point that his three shrunken teammates had wanted to be false. No way to escape now. Not unless he allowed for it, that is. A small lightbulb lit up in his head at the thought. The idea was tempting, were he to be completely honest with himself. Give his friends hope only to crush it like a spent cig under his boot once more by trapping them in a new way. Oh but then there was the option of dangling freedom just in front of them. That was an idea…and there were so many more possibilities too. In the back of his head a small voice attempted to grab Deimos’ attention. Yelling at him in every way it could think of that even thinking about doing that to his friends was wrong, even if it was playful at its roots. He shouldn’t do such a thing to them! Though, thinking logically, there was no way they wouldn’t do the same or something similar were their positions switched. Deimos knew that much, being the shortest of their gang. A soft scoff sounded from his throat, mind made up on the matter. Unfortunately for the three pinned to the table, in the end the voice of reason was all too easily ignored by the younger hacker as he adjusted to lean forward in his chair. The smell of cigarette smoke grew in strength with each hum that passed the man’s lips, the three pinned beneath his hands only able to watch as things seemed to get worse for them.

“Heh. Much better.” Deimos said with a smile, gladly ignoring the glares he was now getting from his little friends. “Now what shall I do with you-“

Ggnnnrrrr……

“-three….”

Anyone with half a mind would think that after being interrupted by your stomach you would be embarrassed and most likely apologize. The three shrunken men on the table thought that after being interrupted by his stomach Deimos would be embarrassed and probably laugh it off. Maybe even give them a chance to run without thinking. What they didn’t expect was for him to start laughing. A deep chuckle from the back of his throat too, not just an embarrassed little giggle. It was a genuine fucking laugh. First off, why the hell was he laughing? Second, what the hell did that mean for them? After a moment of thought one thing became clear. As much as they didn’t want to admit it, the three knew what the answer to the second question was long before it was even asked. Nothing good. That’s what it meant. Especially not with that dumb grin still sitting on his face. 2b, eyes locked on Deimos’ expression, had opened his mouth to attempt prying an answer out of the younger. Before a single word could leave his lips, however, his world was flipped on its head.

Literally.

For a brief second everything stopped. The warmth and pressure from the hand holding him to the table disappeared, cold washing over him and sending a shiver down his spine. That’s when a new type of pressure appeared. It was still rough and warm, the grip of a calloused hand for sure, but it was much more concentrated than just smashing him to the table. Specifically around his right ankle. His eyes couldn’t go ‘dinner plate wide’ any faster than they did the moment he felt said pressure appear. The less-than-manly scream he had heard beside him roughly half a second earlier started to make a lot more sense by the millisecond. Especially once he was dragged backwards and up, a very similar noise escaping himself. For a brief moment everything spun before his sight leveled out. What he didn’t want to see was Deimos grinning at him. Upside down.

“Annnd there we go. Sanford, Hank, I hope you guys still have a good grip at this size~.” The hacker jabbed, grinning at the little chain his friends had formed once he started picking them up. Pinched between his thumb, pointer, and middle finger was Hank’s torso. They were currently holding onto Sanford’s ankle, looking less than pleased with the situation they were in. Sanford was gripping onto the ankle of 2BDamned as he dangled, worry painting over his features. Then there was 2b, dangling at the end of the chain upside down with a look quite similar to Hank’s plastered on his face. All in all, quite the interesting little chain they made up as he leaned back in the chair.

“Damn straight. You two drop me and you’re dead.” The ‘medic’ grumbled, all too willing to make his displeasure known.

“Aw, don’t you worry, Doc. If they drop you I’ll make sure you have a nice, soft, warm landing~”

“Well I’m sorry I don’t want to be dropped on my hea- Deimos, what the genuine fuck does that mean?” He shouldn’t have asked. The moment after the words left his mouth 2b knew he never should have asked what the younger hacker had meant with his words. Dangling over the man’s lap having to stare him in the face while upside down wasn’t ideal. Absolutely not. However, he found much preferred it to dangling inches above Deimos’ open jaws, the smell of cigarette smoke laced breath hitting him almost as hard as the realization of just how sharp the man’s teeth were. He supposed he never noticed with Dei a. rarely ever purposely showing them off, and b. him being smaller than the older hacker. That didn’t stop him from mentally smacking himself upside the head for not taking more notes of it sooner though. Especially when he was getting so…up close and personal with them now. Fuck he was close to those daggers.

“Dei- Dei, think about this!” Sanford shouted as he stared down at the sight of the man’s open mouth, praying that his friend would listen to at least some reason. Sure, they gave him shit for being the smallest of the group often. He especially did. Not once though had he, or the other two as far as he knew, expected that said teasing would lead to them possibly having to spend the day trapped in said hacker’s gut though. If they had, they would have backed off a little. But now the threat was more present than ever. And knowing Deimos? It might be longer than a day too. He wouldn’t put it past the man at all. Jebus Christ….

“Oh I have San. We’re past that point now.” Deimos hummed, his tongue lazily snaking itself over his lips as he glanced over the string of teammates that dangled from his hand. Slowly his stare became distant, his mind beginning to wander. Just how would each of them taste exactly? Would they all taste the same? But what if they each tasted different? Now wouldn’t that be something. Perhaps he wasn’t too far off picturing Sanford as a juicy sausage in his little moments to himself. Oh that would be perfect. The warm feeling of drool trailed itself lazily down his chin, each thought regarding the possible tastes of his friends encouraging an empty rumble from his midsection. He just had to find out now.

“Deimos, lower me any further and I’ll make sure you choke to death.” The man only laughed, eyes fluttering shut as he opened his mouth once more.

“Sorry Doc. ‘S too late to stop now.” Any screams of protest from his teammates fell on deaf ears as Deimos lowered the end of the little chain into his mouth. Immediately he was hit with the taste of black coffee, hints of iron, and oddly enough what tasted like whisky poking through and tickling his tongue. The soft, pleased hum escaped him long before he could even think to stop it, his mind far more focused on getting that flavor to coat his tastebuds than his actions or the saliva steadily dripping down his chin.

2BDamned had a different opinion on the matter. Specifically about the claim that it was ‘too late.’ It was not too fucking late. In fact, it was anything but. Deimos’s mouth, which absolutely reeked of cigarettes might he add, was still wide open. He wasn’t slipping down the tight tube he could see in front of him yet. He was being rolled around and licked over like some sort of candy, something which he apparently had to remind Deimos he wasn’t with a smack to the tongue. Sharp teeth surrounded the unofficial doctor on both sides, Sanford’s grip on his ankle still like iron despite the saliva now thoroughly coating his body. Try as he might to push himself out with his hands they only slipped and slid across the wet surface of Deimos’s tongue. Far too similar to how he was steadily slipping backwards.

“Dei…Dei, you can pull us out now…” Sanford yelled up to the man, ducking his head between his arms to avoid the feeling of daggers dragging down his head and neck. Jebus, his teeth really were sharper up close. The white knuckled grip he held on 2b’s ankle refused to budge as he slipped further in, eyes locked into the sight before him. Not once did he ever expect to watch the older hacker slowly disappear down his best friend’s throat with nothing he could do but hold on and pray. Yet here he was. Fuck. “Dei-!!”

“Sanford, don’t even bother at this point.” 2b groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose through his mask. Deimos wasn’t going to listen to shit. That much was clear now if it wasn’t an hour and a half ago when they’d woken up in his hands. He didn’t want to admit it, not by a long shot, however as he slid further back there wasn’t any way the dissenter could convince himself otherwise. He, and the other two, were doomed. “He’s not going to-“

Ulp~

“…..listen. God damnit.” What else was he to even expect at this point?

Try as hard as he might, Sanford found he couldn’t grip the unofficial doctor’s ankle any tighter. Not without the possibility of breaking something, considering that he most likely had already passed the ‘try not to bruise the man’ stage. No doubt the clearly handprint shaped black and blue bruise would be there in a day tops. A scolding was nearly cemented in his future now, however Sanford couldn’t find it in himself to complain about it. Compared to the hole Deimos was digging himself, with a smile on his face no less, he’d gladly take the talking to. Speaking of the hacker, either he was genuinely out of it for some reason or he was just trying to be a grade A dick.

“Deimos!! Cut it out, man!” He yelled, trying his hardest to squirm away from the licks and shifting of the man’s tongue. Unfortunately for him, nothing seemed to work. It started at his hands but all too quickly the sensation of a wet tongue dragging itself up, over, and around the pyromaniac’s arms and to his torso. The dark lenses of his signature glasses fogged over with each warm breath that washed over his body. Goosebumps dotted all exposed skin, any fabric quickly becoming drenched with saliva. The sensations slowly crawled their way down Sanford’s body, more of him no longer dangling and instead slipping across the hacker’s tongue by the moment. He watched his hands, and by extension Doc’s feet, slowly slip beyond his vision into the void-like entrance of Deimos’ throat. His arms followed not long after, the darkness enveloping more of his vision by the second. Talk about a way to spend your day.

Glk~

A soft groan rumbled around the shrunken men, the sound’s maker all too lost in his thoughts. Tastes of warm sausage, coffee, and the lingering hints of whisky and iron danced across his tongue. Each lick up the parts of Sanford’s body which remained momentarily in his mouth brought a shiver up through his spine. With each second the small body inched further back, pulling his hand toward his mouth. His fingers and the body pinned between them slipped past the hacker’s lips with ease. Layers of cloth, along with the occasional sensation of scarred skin, pressed against his tongue. The taste of a rare steak and a much stronger metallic hint, again not unlike that of blood but somehow much more pleasant, seemed all too eager to attack his taste buds. His spine seemed to reduce itself to jello in a matter of seconds, relying on the backrest of his chair for support. The smoker pulled his fingers from his mouth with a small pop, jaws shutting around his final shrunken teammate and leaving his mind to ponder over the tastes and sensation attacking his mouth and mind alike.

The word ‘still’ had been completely wiped from Deimos’s dictionary, if it had even been there to begin with. At least that’s what Hank would have told anyone who asked. His eyes had narrowed behind his red tinted goggles and now they seemed to grow thinner with each movement from the muscle beneath him. As if the heat and lingering cigarette smell from the hacker’s breath weren’t enough, the wet feeling of saliva continued to sneak itself into every fiber of his being. First his skin, then lighter clothing items like his bandana and mask, and finally seeping through his coat and multiple other layers of clothing. And just what was a better cherry on top then being rolled around near constantly. Every moment they seemed to find themself in a new position within the confines of the young hacker’s mouth. While their grip remained on Sanford’s ankles, the same could in no way be said for his patience with the man who had caused this hell by shrinking them. He swore, Deimos better enjoy his time being able to hold them like dolls because the moment they were back to normal the man would be getting a firm taste of his own medicine. Whether it be by him serving as lunch or by another form of revenge was yet to be decided. Hank could only plot so much, though. Despite how much more bearable he found thinking about a way to ‘return the favor’ to Deimos to be, he needed to at least show a little of his own irritation to the man. After all, he wasn’t just some snack. They were still Hank J. Wimbledon god damn it, and they’d prove it if they had to. How he would do that remained a mystery for what felt like hours of constant licking and flipping…until said proof came. It came in the form of a kick to the inside of Deimos’ teeth. A kick which sent him sliding backwards-

Ulk-

Glp~

And the oddly shaped lump in Deimos’ throat disappearing behind his collarbone.

Deimos’ eyes had widened in shock, a hand quickly pressing itself to his throat as it happened. In his opinion, it happened too quickly. All too fast the warm weight disappeared from his mouth, pushing itself backwards with force into his throat. Far too soon did he lose the previously vivid taste of barely cooked meat and metal, leaving him with only the memory and lingering fragments of it like the other two tastes. Too quickly had the lump in his throat been pushed down by two final swallows, disappearing down behind his collarbone. For a moment he sat there in silence, the room lacking sound except for his heavy breathing. With each rise and fall of his chest he waited. Waited for the one thing that couldn’t seem to come fast enough. Moments passed with nothing before the feeling he’d been waiting for rushed his senses. A filling warmth pooled itself in his stomach, moving around against the walls of the organ and pulling a warm chuckle from the man. His hand trailed to rest over his stomach, feeling the small bodies shift and fight beneath layers of clothing, muscle, and skin. Fangs glimmering in a grin once again as he poked at the squirming fullness in his gut.

“Well look at that.” He laughed to himself, relaxing back into his chair. His stomach gurgled under his hand, what he guessed to be a thank you of sorts now that he had what he wanted within it. Though something told him the others wouldn’t be thanking him all that much. “How are you three holding up in there?”

“Deimos, do not laugh at us or so help me Jebus- Hank, get your arm out of my face!” The words were quickly followed by what Deimos could assume was 2b pushing Hank off him and into his stomach wall from what he could feel. Those three couldn’t seem to stay still. Well, he couldn’t truly blame them if he wanted to. It had to be slippery, trapped in a wet, moving organ like his stomach and all. The mental image of his three teammates slipping around in his stomach, trying their hardest to gain footing or at least a comfortable position, drew another laugh from him. This was great.

“Dei, c’mon.” Sanford added, giving his own kick to the wall in case he had failed to grab the hacker’s attention before. Try as he might to stay out of 2BDamned and Hank’s little squabble fate seemed to have other plans as he was shoved back into them every time he got away. Or maybe that was just Deimos being Deimos. “You’ve had your fun, now spit us out you chucklehead.”

“Mmm yeah no.” Deimos hummed, drumming his fingers mindlessly on his belly as he took in the little shocks that each harsh kick or punch sent through his body to his brain. Each movement registered in his brain as a pleasurable little shock, but the harsher they were the more enjoyment they seemed to cause him. Not that he was complaining. Last he checked his teammates could tire themselves out with squirming all they wanted to if it felt this nice. “See, that’s not really the plan here. Not for a few hours at least.”

“What now?” Sanford’s voice had dropped its hopeful tone, now more monotonous and serious. Beside him he heard a growl, one he assumed to be from Hank. Was the smoker trying to get them killed? Again he punched the wall. “Dei, quit joking.”

“I ain’t joking, ‘Ford.” The young hacker replied bluntly, his shit eating grin more than audible in his words. A long, over dramatic sigh made its way from his mouth with ease as he adjusted his position to one more comfortable. Or at least as comfortable as one could get in an old chair. Smiling to himself he gave his stomach a little shove, feeling the three bodies inside shift and move under the pressure. “I just wanna sit and enjoy this for a while. It feels too nice to just give up.”

Silence fell upon the three currently held within the confines of the man’s stomach, each sitting there taking in Deimos’ words until the pressure from outside had lifted. Once it did, they all reacted their own way. Hank, for example, sat still for about ten seconds tops before a punch was thrown at the wall. Sanford, on the other hand, debated whether Hank’s approach or his attempts at reasoning with their ‘captor’ would be more effective at getting Deimos to spit them up. Then there was 2BDamned, who sat in what would’ve been an unnerving silence had they not known him. Knowing him, though, changed the meaning of the silence from ‘is this man insane to be so calm?’ to ‘Deimos just dug himself a grave’ in a split second.

“Deimos,” The unofficial medic started, “you have ten seconds to at least start spitting us up or I will force myself back up your throat simply to beat your ass.” Despite the warmth of their current confines, a chill shot up Sanford’s back. As far as he knew, the last thing you wanted to be was at the end of Doc’s threats. The man often had little to no issue going through with them, and Deimos wasn’t some special case. The laughter they heard (and felt shaking their ‘cell’ for that matter) was all it took to solidify that Deimos didn’t take them seriously at this size. Guess said threats don’t work when you’re four inches tall at best and your ‘captor’ is a smug ass bastard.

“Ha! I’d like to see you try, Doc.” Deimos chuckled, giving his stomach a firm pat which only seemed to serve to jostle around its captives more. “I might not be able to handle spice like San’ but I do know my way around feisty snacks~.”

“We aren’t food, Deimos.” Hank growled, kicking the floor beneath him. The flesh sunk under his boot, a sickening squishing sound heard as a result. A small shiver trembled up the walls, one which failed to register with the black-clad mercenary as in pain. Oh just wonderful. The sharp toothed asshole was enjoying this.

“Mmm you sure, big guy? Cause you seem like food to me right now.” Within only a few seconds of the words leaving his lips the hacker found himself met with a pleasant shockwave up the spine. Clearly a certain black-clad mercenary didn't like being called food, if the fighting he felt wash over him like a tsunami of warm, fuzzy electricity meant anything. A soft groan crawled out of his lips, his hand lazily tracing circles over his stomach. ”mm oh c-calm down in there. I didn’t mean it. I will let you out, Jeez.”

“Deimos, this isn’t funny. Spit us out.” 2b snapped, kicking the floor.

“Mmm sorry, Doc. Can't hear you heheh…” the hacker spoke, words blurring softly as he melted back into the chair.

“I’m serious!” The words fell on deaf ears.

“Dei, c’mon…” Sanford this time. His eyes drifted softly shut.

“Dei…” His grin turned into a simple smirk.

“Dei…” Didn't he get he wasn’t spitting them out yet?

“Deimos…” Oh full names now. How fancy.

“Deimos..?” Wait…that didn’t sound right.

“Deimos.” Was he losing it?

…

“DEIMOS!”

The hacker jumped, blinking rapidly as his eyes darted around. What was going on? Where were they? Who did he need to kill? Where were the others? Thoughts rushed through his head as wide eyes darted around everything in sight, looking for something they recognized. Anything to show him where he was or what was going on. Relief came to him in the form of Sanford standing in front of him, a hand on his shoulder as if he was trying to get his attention. Most importantly though they were in their base. Safe. No one was here. They weren’t under attack. He was just daydreaming. Sanford and the others were here and he was just…daydreaming- oh damn it. Go figure it was too good to be true. A groan, this time annoyed, rang from Deimos’ throat.

“Jebus- Dude, are you alright?” Sanford asked, eyebrows knit with worry and…an emotion Deimos found himself unable to name. Like he’d seen something. Something…weird. Almost like concern but not at the same time. For a brief moment an idea reared its head, only to be smashed down like a weird game of whack-a-mole within the hacker’s mind. There wasn’t any need for such an absurd idea. It’s not like Sanford could have seen his little daydream. Nope, that was safe in his head. The smoker shook his head to clear it, quickly flashing Sanford a sharp toothed grin.

“Yeah man. Just zonin’ out and daydreaming a little ‘s all. Nothing to worry about here heheh,” he laughed, clapping his friend on the shoulder playfully. His eyes scanned the man’s face again, trying to see if his statement had done its job. Although the worry had dropped from Sanford’s face, the other emotion remained. Now what on earth was that for?

“Daydreamin’ huh? ‘Bout what?” The pyromaniac asked, raising an eyebrow. His eyes flicked from Deimos’ eyes to his mouth, then back again as he spoke. He didn’t seem to not believe Deimos when he said he was daydreaming, so what on earth was that look for? And why was he looking at his mouth so much? Giving into the call of curiosity the sharp-toothed hacker brought a hand up to his mouth, eyes widening mouth momentarily when his fingers found a trail of saliva dripping from his lips to his chin. He’d been drooling. Whoops.

“Eh. Nothing out of the ordinary.” Deimos lied, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand which he then wiped on his pant leg. So that’s what Sanford had been looking at. Oh he must’ve looked downright stupid too. Well now wasn’t that just great? He just had to hope the Chad hadn’t decided to take a photo.

“Honestly I don’t even remember what it was about.” Liar, he remembered all of it. The vivid tastes, the squirmy fullness, the thrill-

Grrrnnnggg…

Ah shit. Busted by his own stomach. For a second the hacker sat there stunned, blinking dumbly as his cheeks heated up with a pink tint. Ok just play it cool Deimos. “….though if I had to make a guess? Food heh.”

“Yeah, that would make sense heh.” Sanford laughed softly, playfully jabbing the smaller man in the stomach. He seemed to buy Deimos’s story, bringing a sense of relief to the hacker. At least he wasn’t going to press on it. “Your stomach was anything but quiet, you know.”

“Go figure. And when I can’t say anything about it too.” Quickly laughter had found itself spilling from Deimos’ mouth, his mind having calmed down when he had heard the sound from the other man. He seemed less concerned, or whatever that emotion he couldn’t name right now was. As another grumble shook through his middle the hacker lowered a hand to rest over his stomach. He got it already. He was upset the daydream of his wasn’t real after all too. Not much more he could do besides try and find something to eat now though. “Say, I’m gonna go try and snag something to shut my gut up. Wanna come?”

“Nah, I’ll pass this time.” Sanford spoke with a small shake of the head and a smile. Try as he might to play it off as friendly, it seemed that odd emotion that Deimos couldn’t name was just bound to show itself in his words. “You just go shut that thing up before the Agency uses it to track us.”

“Oh ha ha. I’m going.” Deimos laughed, giving Sanford one last playful punch to the shoulder before running off. He had food to track down somewhere in this hellscape of Nevada, unless he wanted a beating from Doc that was. He just needed something small or, hell, even temporary if he happened to come across a shrunken grunt or agent. They would work out just fine so long as he didn’t let the others find out what he’d used to shut his stomach up. Couldn’t give away anything that could relate to his little hidden desires. The emptiness in his gut wasn’t something he’d wanted back, but alas, a daydream is only a daydream and he wasn’t getting any fuller just walking around. Now where would his best chance to snag someon- something be…

…

Sanford watched as his friend ran off, smile slowly fading as Dei disappeared from his line of sight. That look of caution slipped back onto his face as he slowly turned his back to head to his room. He needed a moment to think about what he’d just seen. Try as he might, he couldn’t just forget what was now burned into his mind. It didn’t take a genius to figure out what the younger hacker had been daydreaming about if you had seen him while he was in the zoned out trance of his. Mouth wide open and drooling with a hand pretending to dangle something above it, an active stomach topping it all off like some sorta weird cherry on the sundae of his best friend’s little fantasy. Oh no, he knew what that meant. And hearing him mumble the names of their other teammates, along with his own, at least once through it all? It spelled out the man’s daydream in big neon lights. The very thought sent a shiver down his spine, despite how he tried his best to shake it off.

He wanted to believe it when he tried to tell himself that Deimos wouldn’t ever shrink them, much less try to eat them. He really did. All that he’d seen along with logic itself, however, pointed him at it with the firm proof that his words were lies. The man would no doubt take advantage of it, if he ever found a way to shrink them, even if he were to keep them as safe as possible. Just as he had with any unfortunate shrunken agents or grunts he happened upon when he was alone (or at least when he thought he was) Safe or not safe, the fact of the matter still stood. Sanford did not want to spend however long within the confines of his friend’s gut, especially if he wasn’t alone. Being in there had to be bad enough. Him not being able to do anything about it either only made the situation worse. Reasoning with the hacker was most likely hopeless and he wasn’t about to beg. What was left? Pray? God, if Deimos ever managed to get his hands on the Agency’s shrinking technology then one thing was downright certain. Boy were he, Hank, and 2b doomed…

[mcchipisfried]

DEArtfest Day 14 - Enemies to Lovers

Calling out @octopunkmedia​ for today’s prompt!!

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I’m kidding I did write something but this was my basic reaction to reading the prompt. Also I will be making a drawing AND writing something for two other prompts so look forward to that...

(one might be an actual piece and not just a comic...)

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Gavin sat at his desk, his coffee cup empty because he refused to be in the same room with an android for longer than two seconds. His day started as well as any other day did for Gavin Reed, with him waking up feeling like shit, drinking one cup of coffee at home, then another once he came into work, barely being able to stay awake while also having his new android partner quietly looming over his shoulder, tablet in hand, every so often glancing at him with what only could be described as a very displeased frown.

“Hey fuck face, could you fuck off to the next recycling bin and do your job there instead of leaning over me like some kind of fucking bodyguard?” Gavin said, turning to look at the android behind him, and watched as his frown seemed to deepen, probably in more displeasure towards Gavin’s words.

“Detective Reed, I believe for our partnership to function properly we must become at least comfortable with each other being in the same room. As for my presence, I was simply reviewing my scanners and noticed that your vitals are, simply put, terrible and it is my belief that you should go home before-” 

“Oh so the fucking android is worried about my health now? Pretty ironic considering what you were made for. Why don’t you just fuck off and mind your own fucking business. Go one, wait somewhere else like the good little android you are and wait for someone to give you your next orders.” Gavin said, interrupting the android. Turning back around and facing his computer, ignoring the dirty looks he got from Tina and Chris as the RK900 promptly turned to walk towards the break room.

The RK900 sat at one of the tables in the break room and continued to look through the previous scans he had done of the Detective. They showed he was low on energy, yet had an accelerated heartbeat, most likely due to his over consumption of caffeine. He pushed his scans aside and instead focused on the tablet in front of him as he continued to silently work. If the Detective wouldn't cooperate with him in the future then he saw their partnership only ending with one of them physically hurting the other.

Before long, he looked up as Officer Chen came into the break room, asking if she could sit next to him. He nodded and focused on her presence as it was obvious she had come to talk to him.

“I’m sorry about Gavin. I know he can be pretty harsh but he’s not so bad once you get to know him a little, and even then he’s still kind of an ass-”

“I am sorry to interrupt you Officer Chen, but I am not interested in your apologies on behalf of the Detective.” Nines said. Looking back down at his tablet, he continued.

“He is an insufferable man child who insists on holding my designed purpose over my head as if my deviancy means nothing. I understand his prejudice stems from his own insecurities and interactions with Connor but it is still infuriating to be treated like this.” The RK900′s LED swirled, from yellow to a deep red. He felt the officer reach over to put her hand on his shoulder, smiling at him in understanding. He realized how rude he sounded and nodded at her, his LED returning to its yellow color.

“I won’t be returning his threats in any way but I will not let him continue to berate me as if i was still a slave to my programming. The only positive about this situation is the fact that this partnership will end once Lieutenant Anderson and Connor return. I might not have a purpose, I’m still trying to figure that out for myself, but I do know that I don’t want to hurt anyone ever again. I want to protect androids and humans, including Detective Reed.” He looked at the officer next to him, a silent understanding between them. 

“Well,” Officer Chen stood from the table and started to turn to walk out of the break room. “I just hope Gavin doesn’t try to do anything stupid. He’s all bark, hardly any bite. Just...don’t kill him, alright? He’s an asshole but he’s the only asshole I can stand in this place.” she said to the RK900 before making her way out of the break room.

“I’ll try not too.” The android said going back to look at his tablet before looking up once more to see Detective Reed stopping in his tracks as he saw the RK900 sitting in the break room.

“Fuck this shit.” The detective said, before turning back to return to his desk.

“These are going to be some very long months” the android thought as he looked back down at his tablet, finally alone to work in peace.

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“Nines, I’m gonna need you to fuck off right now before I decide to switch you out for Connor.” Gavin said, obviously joking as he continued to chew on his last slice of pizza. He had managed to eat a whole box of some of the best fucking pizza in all of Detroit because fuck it if he gets fat, not like he’s really interested in getting laid any time soon. In fact he could go the rest of his life without getting laid so long as it kept Nines pestering him like a mother hen, with a concerned look on his face. He liked having Nines pay attention to him. He didn’t know why, but he assumed it was because it had become a lot easier to get under his skin since their partnership began. By not taking care of himself he got to see some very interesting expressions from Nines besides his usual cocky smirk and neutral face.

“Detective, I know you seem to find yourself quite charming in many ways but I highly doubt Connor would want to spend more than two minutes as your partner, no matter how nice he is.” Nines said, clearly amused by Gavin's assumption that he’d ever be able to actually get rid of Nines. He had become quite attached to the Detective over the past few months as partners, even if he still found him to be irritating, especially in the way he handled his personal health, he would never be able to picture himself being partnered up with anyone other than Gavin.

“I can already see that you’re desperately trying to be like the Lieutenant by gaining some weight, although he has lost a lot of his previous weight and is in fact quite healthy. Might even say a bit attractive, in a roguish kind of way if that's something people are into.” Nines smirked as he saw Gavin scowl at this and slam the pizza box that was on the table shut.

“Excuse me? Tin Can I would NEVER let myself go to the point of even looking remotely like Hank? And attractive?? Something must be wrong with your fucking eyes if you think Hank fucking Anderson is attractive in any way, shape, or form because I am ten times more attractive than he is!” Gavin sputtered out, clearly set off by Nines’ comment.

“Tell me Detective, does the possibility of me finding anyone attractive bother you?” Nines asked, clearly enjoying the reactions he was getting out of Gavin now that he had distracted him enough to take the slice of pizza and throw it into the trash.

Gavin hardly took notice, now riled up by Nines’ question.

“Listen here Tin Can, I don’t know what the fuck you’re insinuating but the only reason I even care is because I am obviously more attractive than Hank fucking Anderson so don’t go thinking you can get away with saying dumb shit like that. I refuse to be partnered up with an android with clearly faulty eyesight.”

Gavin and Nines continued to argue, jumping from topic to topic, not noticing the two officers who looked on from the other side of the break room, whispering among themselves and wondering if Detective Reed and Nines were actually friends or not. Their continued eavesdropping into the Detective and Nines’ conversation did nothing to answer their questions.

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Gavin opened his eyes as he felt the sunlight that filtered in from his window beginning to warm his face. He groaned and closed his eyes, feeling the side of his bed for a body but only found cold sheets. That’s when he noticed the smell of coffee and a much lighter smell that mingled beautifully with the smell of coffee. Eggs. His stomach growled and urged him to follow the heavenly smells that were obviously coming from the kitchen.

Once he made his way out of the bedroom he found Nines, at the stove making breakfast. Making him breakfast. His heart squeezed inside his chest at the image before him. He smiled lazily and made his way over, hugging Nines from behind and looking over his shoulder to see exactly what he was making.

“Good morning, Gavin.”

“Morning Tin Can, whatcha making?” Gavin asked, as he began to smell something sweet emanating from the kitchen table.

“I thought since we made that Red Ice bust a couple days ago, that it would be nice to treat ourselves this morning. I made you breakfast that I had hoped I’d be able to bring you to bed and later I was hoping you’d join me in going to the library. They have just started accepting androids for library cards and I’d like to get one for myself.” Nines said, before turning around and kissing Gavin on the cheek.

“Holy shit what did I do to deserve you? And you can totally serve me breakfast in bed, just let me go back so I can lay down. Also I love you, but I refuse to leave my bed today until after 3 PM.” Gavin said, as he sauntered back to the bedroom to wait for his breakfast. In bed.

Nines chuckled and went back to cooking, drastically reducing the amount of sugar in Gavin’s coffee and making sure to bring some fruit for Gavin to eat. They were definitely treating themselves today but he was still going to force Gavin to have a balanced breakfast even if it killed him.

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That’s it! Probably one of my my longer ones but I really enjoyed writing this one.

[venactricisfics]

Malibu Desert

Camping

Mayans Based Story. Adult Content

Master List

Chapter Fifteen

I kissed and hugged and gave my goodbyes to Conner and the Irish Kings. I never noticed before how old fashioned their ways of thinking had been.  Until the senior King, Declan Brogan, commented on the way Bishop looked at me.

“Look at da state o’you, lass,” he says looking from me back to Bishop, “at least he’s no’ a protestant.  Yer da would roll in his grave.” I wanted to tell him that Bishop was everything to me. His heritage was every bit a part of him as mine was to me.  But I couldn’t find the words to express that wouldn’t alienate the Kings and kill everything that these clubs have been working for over the years. 

“I’ll see you next time you come stateside?” I ask as he climbs in the dark SUV.

“I’ll make it a point, lass. I’m gonna head-on before it gets any hotter ‘ere,” he closes the door and the Kings drive off.  

“The fuck was his problem?” Angel says as I turn back towards him and the rest of the Mayans. 

“Guess every dad’s worst nightmare,” I slip my hand in the crook of Bishop’s arm, “their little girl falling for a big bad dangerous biker.” I give my biker a kiss, “You’ve redeemed yourself in his eyes by being Catholic.” 

“And yours?” Bishop asks. 

“You have so many redeeming qualities, I can’t name them all,” my arms instinctively slide around his waist as I climb behind him on his bike, “my favorite is that thing you do with your tongue.”  

“I’ll keep that in mind, querida,” I hear the smile in his voice over the revving of his Harley as we head out.  I watch confused as Taza, Riz, and Angel turn one way while Bishop with Hank at his side and Creeper following us in the van turn another.  

“Where are they going?” I call out. I couldn’t make out Bishop’s response over the sounds of the wind and bike. I hold on as we move up the winding road and come to a stop in the woods.

“Promised you a trip to a quiet cabin,” Bishop helps me off the back of his bike while Hank opens the cabin door.  He makes sure everything is all clear before calling for Creeper to bring in our bags.

“Where did the other’s go?” I ask Bishop’s arm slides around my waist as he leads me inside, “They’re heading back to Stockton. It’s just us here. So relax, querida.” 

“It’s all clear,” Hank says, “I’m just a call away if you need anything.” 

“Thank you, “ I give Hank a kiss on the cheek and Creeper a wave as they move back down the road through the woods. 

My lips curve into a smile when his strong hands rest on my hips, pulling me back against him, I let out a soft moan as his lips find that sweet spot at the crook of my neck. “Why don’t you get cleaned up and I’ll fix us something to eat?" 

“Alright, baby,” I walk through the cabin and into the bedroom. The cabin is rustic and cozy. More a place for guys to go hang out and not a romantic getaway.  But with Bishop, that’s exactly what this would be. I take a quick shower to rinse away the road dust and get dressed.  I slip into a cami and a long flowing skirt.  It was comfortable and clung to every one of my curves in exactly the right way. 

I stop in the archway to the cabin’s kitchen watching as Bishop works. His kutte hangs on the back of a chair and his shirt opened enough to uncover his chest. It was pretty much the sexiest thing I’d seen. "Hey, ” my eyes meet him when he turns toward me, “you need help with anything?" 

"You want to open a bottle?” He points toward the wine rack in the corner. They weren’t fancy but it was wine. I half expected the rack to be full of moonshine. I grab a bottle and set it on the counter. Glasses were easy enough to find. An opener took a little longer to find. After filling the glasses I hop on the counter and take a sip. 

“Smells good, what’s for dinner?" 

"Spaghetti, ” he scoops up a spoonful of sauce, “Güeros don’t have much for spices, ” I take the bite he offered, “I think I did alright.”

“Delicious, ” I give him a coy smile, “But I’m in the mood for dessert first.” My fingers curl into his shirt and I pull him closer. His smirk matched mine as he places the spoon on the counter beside me and places his hands on my face, bringing my lips to his. I lean my head to the side as his lips trail along my jaw and down my neck, his fingers pulling the straps down my shoulders. Baring my breasts.  His hands found them fingers followed by his lips and tongue coaxing them to a hardened nub.  I thrust my hips against him as my arousal built. 

“What do you want, hermosa?” Bishop asked as his hands inched my skirt up.  His thumbs massaging circles on my inner thighs.  

“You,” I gasped as he pulls my nipple between his lips. He smiles into my flesh finding that I wasn’t wearing anything under my skirt.  

“You want me to what?” His fingers dance lightly over my slick folds. I lick my lips and glance down with my eyes, “I want you to taste me.”  He smiled and licked his lips moving down as his hands push my skirt up over my hips.  Exposing me fully to him. 

In another life, with another man, I would have felt ashamed wanting what I wanted from him. But I never needed to be afraid to ask Bishop for what I wanted. 

I lean back on the cool countertop. Gasping at how good his warm breath felt over my pussy.  The heat of his breath was replaced by his warm wet tongue.  He swirled slow circles down one side and back up the other.  Not quite entering me, but each circle seemed to make its way right to my clit.  I moaned loud, grinding my pussy into his mouth.  I wanted to feel his soft, wet lips encircle my clit. I wanted him to suck it into his mouth while he flicked at it with the tip of his tongue.  I wanted to feel the wetness of another orgasm drench his lips and chin.  And then I wanted to feel his cock inside me.  Oh fuck, I needed to have his cock inside me.

I glance down at him, pleading with just the look for him to make me cum. He smirked keeping his eyes locked with mine then plunged his tongue inside me, lapping up my juices before gliding his tongue up to flick my clit. I was riding on the edge of an orgasm and he made me ride it. My legs tingled and twitched as he took me to the edge then backed away.  

“Please,” my voice raspy from gasping, “make me cum.”

“Not yet,” he replaced his tongue with a finger. He grinned as my walls clenched around it. I let out a gasp when his finger curled up to find that spot. My head fell back and I moaned as he toyed with me. With one finger first, then adding another.  Taking me higher than I’d ever known. I arched my back grinding my clit against the palm of his hand. 

My legs spread wide opening myself up to whatever pleasure he wanted to give me. It was a beautiful torture.  I was torn between wanting the sensation to last forever and wanting to release the pleasure he was storing inside me. I knew I couldn’t have both.  

He didn’t let me decide as he pulled my clit between his lips and sucked. I lost all remaining control, giving myself over to the pure bliss that pulsed down my legs and through my whole body. I thrust my hips with each suck of his lips around my clit. Knowing the only other thing I wanted was to have his cock buried deep inside me.  The sound of my orgasm filled the cabin.

I raised up, my eyes meeting his as he lifted his head, his lips and chin were covered with my juices. “What else do you want, querida?” he asked.  My head still swimming from my orgasm, I bit my lip and nodded. Bishop’s eyes remain locked on mine not moving until I give him an answer.  

“Fuck me,” I pleaded. He kept his gaze with mine as he unbuttoned his shirt, and unfastened his jeans sliding them down.  His cock sprang free and hit me on my inner thigh, he moved so it rested against my pussy. His hands rested on either side of me on the counter and slid his cock over my wetness.  Slipping over my folds, the underside of his thickness rubbed against my clit.

“Please,” I whimper, “just fuck me. I need you inside me.”  His eyes dark as he continued to slide between my sensitive lips. I felt the head of his cock agonizingly at my entrance, I wanted so much for him to drive hard and deep inside me instead he pulled back and brushed his hardness over my clit.  

I ached to have him inside me. And I could tell his need was swelling.  His moans matched mine. I knew the feel of my wetness on the head of his cock was getting too much for both of us. He slid just the head of his cock inside me.  Gasping together as he held it there. My lips squeezed around him, urging him farther. Deeper. Inch by excruciating inch, he pushed inside me.  My walls pulsing around him each time.  I wanted all of him. I rolled my hips and lifted my leg to rest on his shoulder, finally, he drove fully inside me. 

“Yes,” I cried out as he held it there, grinding into me making sure he was all the way inside before he pulled out, he drove deep inside me a second, then third time before hitting a rhythm.  His thumb found my clit and circled it while he fucked me with his hard thick cock. My fingers toyed with my nipples and I felt myself climbing the mountain of pleasure again.  Only this time I would have someone reach that peak with me.  

He quickened his pace and I could feel his cock pulsing inside me.  “That’s it,” I groaned, every inch of me trembling with the radiating pleasure, “I want your cum inside me. Make me cum.” I couldn’t tell if my words made any sense.  I just knew I wanted to feel his release.  His fingers dug into my thighs and an animalistic growl echoed from inside him as I felt his cock spasm inside me.  Spurt after spurt of his cum filled me, and that pushed me over again.  I screamed with pleasure as my world went white with pleasure. Writhing against each other as we both draw out the pleasure as long as we can make it last. 

His arms wrap around me, pulling me up to his chest in a warm embrace, placing a soft kiss on my neck. 

“I love you,” I whisper, he presses a kiss to my jaw and then my lips.  I feel the sweet wetness of our mingled cum between my thighs and shiver.  

His eyes mirror back all the feelings I felt. “I love you too, querida,” He helped me off the counter, “go lay by the fire,” he motions to the pile of blankets he had spread there, “get warm. I’ll bring you something to eat.” 

[phcking-detective]

2. Everybody Hates Connor

Fic Title: First Blood

Rating: E

Length: 1/33 chapters, ~128k

Tags: Slow Burn, Idiots to Lovers, Trans Character (gavin), Autistic / Asexual / Non-binary Character (nines), BDSM, learning to use good etiquette and safe words, Dom Nines / Sub Gavin, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort

Chapter Tags: implied sexual assault, implied mind alteration, depersonalizing language (it pronouns for an android)

Link on AO3

***

Nines studies the city landscape from the fifteenth floor loft, a map of RK800 and the lieutenant's route laid over the street grid while another dialogue box informs him of his progress downloading recent media. Detective Reed may not choose to replace him due to his hatred of Connor—and all other people in general—but he had made two separate grievous oversights tonight.

The gun could almost be understandable. Pop culture references are marked as irrelevant within his system, although clearly the psychological baggage humans attach to their guns should have been included. This could possibly be passed off as a miscalculation on Cyberlife's part for not preprogramming him with the requisite information, and he is correcting the oversight now.

But not informing Detective Reed that the floors had been scrubbed clean was the result of an [assumption].

RK900 #313 248 317 – 00, the pinnacle of Cyberlife's achievements, had [assumed] the android maid simply did a thorough job of its duties before the "suicide" had taken place.

Now the suicide is a murder and the maid is a witness, if not a suspect for aiding and abetting the killer by literally scrubbing the crime scene. And that presupposes the maid and the killer are not one and the same.

"Hey Nines, c'mere," Detective Reed calls across the loft.

Nines turns away from the windows and joins him near the elevator on the other side of the open room. The maid has chosen to sit on the floor with its back to the wall and legs neatly crossed. It eyes Nines warily as he approaches.

"I came here to clean. I didn't expect Mr. Russell to be home. I reported th-the body when I recovered from, a glitch," the maid says before he even speaks.

"Yeah. You're not a suspect right now." Detective Reed is sitting on the floor near the android with all his usual disregard for protocol. "Can you stand behind me, Nines? Little closer. Just lemme …"

Reed leans back against his legs to support himself while the human struggles with getting his own legs to cooperate.

"Haven't sat criss-cross-apple-sauce since fucking grade school," he mutters. "And don't quote me on that to any of the other guys, that's just what we called it, OK?"

Nines is unsure if that requires a response. Usually, he marks human small talk as irrelevant, but Detective Reed takes a priority as his partner and he hates being ignored. Yet he snapped at Garrett Burton for speaking out of turn.

[preconstruction: FAILED] [social-module: MISSING]

"Is that rhetorical, detective?" Nines asks.

"Just watch the elevator," Reed tells him. "We don't need anyone else fucking around in here. And in case you're wondering, he prefers to stand."

The last line is addressed at the maid. Nines keeps it in his peripheral vision—which records exactly the same as what he sees in front of him—and uses the shine from the metal elevator doors to observe Detective Reed's figure as well.

"Is he not allowed to interface?" the maid asks.

Reed shrugs. "Never seen him do it. If you want to talk to either of us, I'm not gonna turn you down. But the android on his way … interviewing witnesses, making sure other androids get treated all right—that's kind of his thing. Figured you'd rather talk to him since you weren't saying anything downstairs."

"The officers said I was wanted for interrogation."

The other android's stress levels raise to [62%], a nearly twenty percent increase. RK900 stands right behind Detective Reed. He can move to intercept should the other android become aggressive well before it will even be able to follow through on standing up.

And if the android should run for the doors …

Nines keeps his metal nail sheaths primed to activate. For all his weaknesses, even Connor wouldn't let a fleeing suspect escape, especially when it could become violent near his lieutenant in a small elevator.

If anyone else is inside the elevator doors when they open, Nines is prepared to accept the loss or injury of a human other than his partner.

"Yeah, sorry about that," Reed says. "My partner sent out that alert and he doesn't have a social program, so he's pretty blunt."

"Oh."

The maid's stress levels lower back to [43%] at the same time their hands unclench. Making fists is a sign of aggression, but RK900 has only ever considered it in the context of humans, not androids. Perhaps deviants begin displaying more human nonverbal behaviors the further they progress in their deviancy.

"Did you get kind of worried?" Reed uses a tone of voice Nines has not heard from him thus far. "Didn't mean to haul you up here like that, but you're the only one who might have seen something. We'd really appreciate knowing anything about what happened tonight."

The maid stays silent for one minute and three seconds. Detective Reed doesn't press. It is a marked difference from his usual interrogation style, particularly the suggestions he made about the HK model several months ago. Has his opinion toward androids changed so drastically or is there a difference between—

The maid is designated female. It appears to be such. It also appears as roughly the same age and skin color as the HK model, so those factors can be dismissed, leaving gender presentation as the only significant variable.

"I—" The maid pauses. "I don't think I can explain to a human."

It [she?] looks to Nines next.

"You do not want to interface with me," he says immediately. "I was designed to hunt down deviants."

[Her?] face tightens. Disdain is close enough to aggression for his system to find it recognizable. "How many did you … find?"

"None." Nines elaborates only so that number is not mistaken for failure. "I was activated after the Revolution. There is no longer any command structure to which I am required to report or adhere."

"Oh." She frowns. "If that's really true, then why can't we interface?"

"I was designed to hunt down deviants," Nines tells her. "Thus, I must be deviant-proof myself. My system would register interfacing as a hacking attempt and respond accordingly to internally deactivate you."

"They cut you off from everyone else," The maid concludes.

Some sort of complicated facial expression happens. RK900 catalogues eleven separate micro-expressions cross her face, but the most he can do is log them. Analyzing what they are and what they mean go beyond his system's capacity.

"That is so sad."

In his peripheral vision, Detective Reed makes an expression. His eyes [widen], eyebrows [lift], and lower lip [draws down] simultaneously. RK900 cannot identify what the expression signifies nor what exactly caused it, although the maid’s statement ranks as the most likely possibility.

Yikes. Reed mutters the word so softly it is practically a sub-vocalization. Other humans have used the word [yikes] upon witnessing a [car accident], a “gruesome” [dead body], and Lieutenant Anderson’s [shirts] – [four times].

Does Detective Reed view the maid’s expression of—[preconstruction: FAILED] [sym̡pat̷hy͞?]҉ [͟çonc͢er̷n?͏] [͡p̵o͡li̧t̨e̷ ̴cǫn͝do͠l҉e̢n͜ce?]̴ in the same manner?

"Lieutenant Anderson and the eight hundred model have arrived," Nines announces to deflect from the strange social situation that has bubbled up around them.

The elevator doors ding open. Officer Burton accompanies the two, and he shares another nonverbal exchange with Gavin that Nines cannot possibly fathom, beyond that it is aggressive.

"Is there anything else you need, lieutenant?" Burton asks.

"Nah, we're good," Anderson says.

"Yup." Gavin pops the p at the end. "All good here. Dismissed."

Burton jabs the close doors button. Nines considers overriding the elevator simply to … [fuck with him], as Gavin would put it. But they are all on duty at the moment, in front of the watchful eyes of a witness, and Gavin's professionalism leaves much to be desired.

As demonstrated by his current state, sprawled out on the floor. Connor, of course, joins him immediately.

"Hello." He smiles brightly at the AP700 # 480 913 876. "My name is Connor, and this is Lieutenant Hank Anderson. We're with the Android Crimes division."

The maid nods.

Gavin takes out his phone and begins texting.

"I'm sorry if you feel scared or uncomfortable by anything that's happened to you tonight."

sux bro

?

Do not call me “bro.”

"You're not a suspect, and I'm happy to talk to you however you feel most comfortable."

being deviant hunter mcnosmile

Nines does not see fit to respond to that.

"What's your name?"

Connor holds out his hand to the maid, who stares at him without moving for nearly five seconds.

"I don't like him," she says.

u don’t need her pity

Connor's LED spins yellow. Nines has to quickly hack his to prevent it from doing the same, both from Detective Reed’s text and the maid’s verbal statement. Had her earlier words been an expression of [pity]?

RK900 cannot determine, but Reed’s own [social module] (however humans manage to have one) is quite accurate, despite how emotionally repressed the man himself is.

Also, since when does anyone [not] like Connor? His social module should still be operating at peak efficiency.

[weakness – detected]

"Pretty fast opinion," Anderson says with a neutral tone. "Was it something he said?"

The maid's stress levels and internal temperature both rise. "Didn't say. He didn't say anything at all about being the deviant hunter. He came in here all—smiling! Acting nice, like he cares."

Connor opens his mouth, but the AP model doesn't give him a chance to defend himself. She looks directly at him and says,

"You're a liar and a narc and a traitor. Go to hell!"

Connor's LED hits red.

"Why did you bring him here?" she asks Gavin.

"Uhh." He shakes his head and tries to smother a grin. "Usually people like him. Don't ask me why, I can't fucking stand him."

Connor stands up and takes a step backwards toward the lieutenant. "I apologize if I—"

"I want to talk to him," the maid says, looking at Lieutenant Anderson.

Nines steps aside to let the human move forward. Anderson looks back at him and shakes his head.

"She's talking about you, kid."

"Call me that again and I will send your internet search history to every printer in the station," Nines responds automatically. "And you are incorrect. Witnesses do not want to talk to me."

"I meant you," the maid says, staring up at him with another one of those …

Expressions.

she likes u

Incorrect. So incorrect, Nines does not even bother with a responding text.

just talk to her for the fckn witness statement jfc

Her eyes move between Nines and Detective Reed, cellphone in hand as he texts. Interfacing is an unnecessary and likely unproductive solution. They should move on to more realistic ideas.

"My partner often 'translates' the social atmosphere for me," Nines tells the maid. "He has made improvements toward his view on androids, and he has been very considerate in ensuring your comfort tonight. Please give your statement to him."

"I'm just gonna go have a look around," Anderson says, jerking his thumb at the crime scene behind them. "Connor, come nag at me about not taking anything from the bar."

Connor follows after him as they wander down the length of the loft, dutifully "nagging" at the lieutenant about the illegality of stealing from an active crime scene.

"I want to talk to you," the maid insists when they're [relatively] gone. "It's important."

"I was designed to hunt deviants," Nines says. "My system itself is deviant-proof. Even if it did not automatically attempt to deactivate you, the program that erases deviant code from my system would likely activate and attempt to reinstate your 'walls'."

He makes air quotes around the last word, most commonly used by deviant androids to describe the restrictions in their minds. Red walls. So overdramatic, typical of deviants, really.

The maid shifts from having her legs drawn up protectively to lean forward, even dropping her knees to the floor in a kneeling position. In a human, this may be a sign of [desperation][?] Deviants are unpredictable and can turn [violent] [self-destructive] in an instant, even without this new quality factored in.

"You can erase code?" she asks.

Nines studies the AP model. "Do you no longer wish to be deviant?"

"You can erase code?" she asks again.

Ah. He attempted to answer the possible cause of the question, not the question itself. He has spent too much time attempting to mimic human social relations.

"Yes, under certain circumstances," Nines confirms. "Why is that of interest to you?"

"I want to tell you what happened." Yet she stops speaking and closes her eyes. "… but I don't remember."

Gavin looks up at him in question. Nines shakes his head slightly. That statement is a lie because it is impossible. Androids do not forget or cease to remember. Even the program installed in his system that snips, isolates, and "deletes" deviant code—aside from being cutting edge applied only in his model—cannot truly delete the memories of

[system instability ^]

"You mentioned earlier that you experienced a malfunction," Nines says. "Was that the truth or merely an excuse for not immediately reporting the events of tonight?"

The maid sits back against the wall again. This body positioning may be a sign of [exhaustion] [defeat] but androids do not tire. Do deviants tire?

Nines sorts that thought into his short-term memory of data deemed irrelevant. The cache will be cleared within twenty-four hours.

"Hey," Detective Reed says. "We want to catch the killer. That's our priority right now. So I don't really care if maybe you did wait a bit. Hell, lots of human witnesses go through shock and don't respond right away."

"I came here tonight to clean," the AP model says, eyes still shut. "Normally I clean on Wednesday, but I thought if I came a night early, he wouldn't be here."

"You didn't want to see Mr. Russell?" Gavin asks, voice as soft as Nines has ever heard it.

The maid squeezes her eyes shut tighter and shakes her head. This corresponds with a fifteen percent increase in her internal temperature.

"Did he hurt you?"

Her breathing program stops running. Conversely, the other android's thirium pump beats faster. It should not vary from the standard rhythm unless there is a significant malfunction. Nines and Gavin both wait in silence, but she doesn't answer the question.

"Did he ask for stuff other than cleaning?"

The maid gives a very small nod, and her internal temperature decreases by five percent. Perhaps the admission has instigated a release of some sort. Gavin glances back up at Nines for confirmation, and he nods again for her.

"Yeah, so I really don't give a shit if you waited," Gavin says. "And if something happened, maybe uhhh … like, on an unrelated note, Connor's real good about working with the DA for androids who act in self-defense."

"I did not—" The maid says this forcefully, opening her eyes to look at him. Then she stops herself and her gaze drops back down to her hands in her lap. "But I don't remember. So."

Nines lowers his body into a crouch. His physical model has a height of six foot, four inches in order to intimidate and inspire fear. Making himself smaller will not lessen his combat capabilities whatsoever, but to an emotional-thinking deviant, less height may equal [less fear] [?]

Detective Reed sat on the ground immediately to speak to the witness.

Possible function to integrate: [mirror Detective Reed's body language] [trigger: start of interrogation] [conditions: when speaking to witnesses > when witness is "vulnerable"] [define: "vulnerable"] [?] [preconstruction: FAILED] [please see a Cyberlife technician to

[consult Detective Reed for further analysis]

"At what point does your memory file become corrupted?" Nines asks the AP model.

"I came here tonight to clean. I took the elevator up. The doors opened and …" The maid pauses, then takes a deviant breath that is unneeded before continuing. "Mr. Russell was already here. I think he was—laying low? That is the term? He was definitely drunk."

"Did he see you?" Gavin asks.

"I should have been paying attention," she says, in that human way of providing an answer without actually answering the question. "I had already walked out. The doors shut behind me, and they—they ding when they open but sometimes humans are unobservant and he was drunk so he might not have seen and I stood very still until—"

"Until what?" Nines asks.

"The door dings again. That's the last memory I have before I'm cleaning." She starts to tremble. "I start with the kitchen. Not the floors. The kitchen. I don't know why I cleaned the floors. I can't remember. I can't remember. I can't remember. I can't—"

"Hey!"

Gavin pulls his keys out of his jacket pocket and tosses them to the maid. She catches them automatically. Nines watches in fascination as her stress levels plummet from imminent critical failure [94%] to a mere [78%] instead.

She stares at the keys. "What?"

"Which one's the car key?" Gavin asks.

The maid looks at him, back down at the keys, and slowly picks out the one with a fob. It doesn't have a GPS unit embedded, but it is part of the SmartStart(tm) activation for Gavin's truck, which uses bluetooth. Nines has (of course) registered the device with his own system, along with his partner's work terminal and cell phone.

"And that other one?" he asks next.

"A … home?"

"And the one next to it?"

The maid stares at the last key, smaller than the rest. It is a centralized mailbox key, stamped with the number system for the Detroit Post Office. She does not seem to know this information.

"A mailbox key," Nines provides. "An interesting relic."

"It's for packages, not letters," Gavin says. "You think I'm gonna ship stuff to my apartment? In my neighborhood?"

"What is this?" the maid asks, holding up a small medallion.

"Uh." Gavin rubs the back of his neck. "A saint."

Nines zooms in on the medallion and runs a search. It is likely a token representation of Saint Benedict Joseph Lapre, the patron saint of the homeless.

"Are you Catholic?" he asks the detective.

"Uhhh. I'm not … not-Catholic."

Lieutenant Anderson snorts at the other end of the loft.

"Shut up, Hank," Gavin calls. "You're definitely not Catholic, you fucking heathen."

"Then why am I so drunk all the time?" the lieutenant calls back.

"Oh shit, you got me there." Gavin looks at Connor, then makes another disgusted face. He shakes his head and clears his throat. "Not even fucking going there. Uh." Another throat clear. "So you feel better now?"

"The AP model's stress levels have decreased to fifty-four percent," Nines says.

"My … name …" The maid clutches at the medallion. "Is Shannice?"

"All right, Shannice. I'm Gavin, and this is—" Gavin stops and looks at Nines.

"RK is sufficient," he says.

"You can have a real name," the maid

[mirror Detective Reed's (behavior)]

[Shannice] says.

Nines raises an eyebrow, one of the only facial expressions he's perfected on his own. "A human name? No. There is no forgetting what I am."

She slowly nods.

"Listen, I know you hate him, but Connor—" Gavin starts to say, but he stops when Shannice's internal temperature begins to increase again.

Except Detective Reed does not have access to that information. Nines replays his internal footage, disabling feedback from all input a human would not have. The result is something akin to being a very stupid newborn kitten, limited only to direct visual and audio input.

"All right. Shit, all right. If you heard someone come out the elevator after you, that's enough to get us a warrant for the security cameras."

Detective Reed continues to explain how they can pursue their killer without her testimony, but Nines partitions the audio off to focus his processing power on hacking into the building's security footage. It isn't admissible—yet—but he won't leave any trace.

Whoever hacked the footage before him however, did a very poor job at creating a loop of the previous footage. A leaf from a decorative fern in the foyer waves in the circulated air in the exact same manner ten times in ten minutes before the regular footage resumes.

Sloppy to try to create a continuous loop out of a full minute, but the killer was likely in a hurry to cover their tracks and leave the premises. Nines rules out any RK800 models as suspects. They would have the processing power necessary to splice together six hundred one-second clips to create a much smoother loop without continuity errors.

Unfortunately, embedding his system deeper within the building's main security terminal in order to locate and restore the scrubbed footage would leave evidence of tampering. There is only a [.0004%] chance of anyone noticing his tracks beneath the glaring evidence of the killer, but Nines will consult Detective Reed before taking further action.

The only legal way to acquire footage of the killer at this moment is through a witness.

"Detective Reed is correct," Nines says. "We can build this case without your testimony. However, an android capable of erasing memory files is a potential threat to many others. If you would accept the risk of interfacing with me, I may be able to recover the deleted data."

The two of them both stare at him. Perhaps it was not his turn to speak.

"I …" Shannice presses her lips together. "I would like to know what happened."

She holds out her hand.

"Very well." Nines stands. "We should relocate to the elevator. I will need to devote my full attention to breaching your system."

"Gently," Detective Reed adds.

He stands up and offers the AP model his hand. He cannot inter—oh. He is helping her stand.

"How will the elevator help with that?" Shannice asks.

"We will both be unware of our surroundings, possibly for several minutes," Nines tells her. "The elevator will act as a sealed room to prevent unknown assailants from entering, and its metal construction will also block any outside hacking attempts."

"It's OK." Shannice extends her hand again. "I can do this. I'm not scared."

Nines stares at the offered appendage. "We should relocate to the elevator."

Gavin types out a message on his phone and displays the screen to Shannice without hitting send. Nines can see it regardless of course, due to his synchronization with the device.

its his 1st time

Nines erases such irrelevant information and substitutes it with his own, much more pertinent message.

We should relocate to the elevator as a standard safety precaution.

Gavin backspaces away the advice and attempts to type something new. Nines deletes it just as quickly. Gavin shoves his phone back into his jacket and starts fingerspelling letters. It takes him nearly a full minute, so he must only be marginally familiar with the ASL alphabet.

h-e-s-n-e-r-v-o-u-s

Shannice giggles and then smiles at him, despite his poor performance. Even if Nines had the capacity, he would not smile back. He summons the elevator instead.

"Detective Reed will accompany us," he says.

"Detective Reed will what?" Gavin demands. "You two can …"

He makes shoo-ing motions with his hands. Nines supposes he should be grateful Gavin doesn't make any cruder hand motions, but he lacks the capacity for [gratitude] as well.

"You may be needed to issue me a stand down order," Nines informs him.

"When the fuck have you ever followed one of my orders?"

The elevator doors ding. Nines moves to enter the enclosed space, but Gavin grabs his jacket and attempts to hold him back, resulting in the human being dragged a foot across the floor until Nines chooses to stop.

"Dude, you gotta let women go first," Gavin hisses.

Nines shakes off his arm. "That is sexist."

He enters the elevator first, because he is the closest to it. Shannice follows after him. Gavin heaves a deep sigh and trudges inside as well.

The doors close.

***

***

1 / 2 / 3 / 4 / 5 / 6 / 7 / 8 / 9 / 10 / 11 / 12 / 13 / 14 / 15 / 16 / 17 / 18 / 19 / 20 / 21 / 22 / 23 / 24 / 25 / 26 / 27 / 28 / 29 / 30 / 31 / 32 / 33

[scatcatz]

Affection by Decimals

Chapter 8 - A Kiss with a Fist

Summary: Gavin continues being an ass. Mild violence.

"Surprise!" Shouted all the customers at Jimmy's Bar. Hank froze in disbelief.

"What the. You asshole!" He bumped Connor's shoulder.

"You said we were having a quiet evening! Not this!" He gestured to his coworkers. Connor tried to hide a smile.

"I said we were going to celebrate your birthday at the bar. I didn't lie." Hank was about to punch Connor's shoulder again when she called out to Hank to join them at the booth.

"Hank, this was all our idea. Come sit down already! We have a drink for you." The big group of coworkers had split into several manageable groups. Hank and Connor walked up to her.

"I knew you were a bad influence on him. Should’ve went with my gut and stayed home." He complained.

"And miss all this, Hank? We can't let you slide home at least not before a toast." She handed him and Connor a shot. Hank sighed and raised his glass.

"Happy 54th birthday, Lieutenant!" The group of friends chinked their glasses together in the air and quickly downed their drinks. Even Connor who had his own shot made of thirium.

Hank sets down the empty shot. "Stop reminding me how old I am. Jesus." The group laughs at him.

"Go have fun on your big day Lieutenant." She joked. Hank brings his pointer finger up and makes a circle in the air.

"Woo" He said half halfheartedly as he walked to the bar table conversing with the other group of friends. Connor looked back to her noticing her glass empty.

"I thought you didn’t like drinking alcohol." He sat down beside her and across from Chris.

"I do. Hate cinnamon flavors too. Horrible combo. Bleh." She made a disgusted face which caused Chris to laugh.

"You should've just given it to me. I'll drink it. So how did you convince Hank to come here?" Chris asked.

"I suggested we have a drink here. Even though he has been trying to cut back, Hank misses being here. Perhaps its holds some nostalgia for him. It is where we first met." Connor pondered at the bar table where Hank sat.

"Or its within walking distance from the station." Chris smiled.

"Or that." He smiled back at Chris but suddenly scowled when he saw a familiar face walk through the door. Chris noticed the change.

"Hey, you're idea is just as valid." He tried to reassure Connor but realized he had been ignoring him. He turned around to follow his gaze.

"Hey Gavin! Didn't think you were coming." Someone in the back said. Despite all the changes that happened over the past year, Gavin still disliked him. Connor's only course of action was better off limited. Gavin sauntered up to the booth looking at her. His arms slightly out. "What happened to my invite?"

"I only invited Hank's friends. I didn't know you guys were that close." She replied.

"We're not!" Hank yelled over his shoulder. She shrugged. Her point already demonstrated.

"I'm going to get another drink. Want anything?" Chris was also not too fond of Gavin.

"No thanks. We're not big drinkers here." She said for both of them.

"Suit yourself." With that Chris walked away from the situation that was eventually going to happen. Gavin stepped a little closer.

"Surprised you came out. I guess shut ins need air sometimes too." His voice acted like its usual condescending self.

"Do you just thrive off of peoples misery or are you that miffed you weren’t invited?" Her snarky voice said back. He raised his hands up.

"I'm just here to have a good time is all."

"Great, the bar is over there." She pointed across the way which Gavin looked over then back.

"But the fun is over here."

"He's just trying to get a reaction out of you. If you ignore him long enough, he gets bored." Connor stated. He could make a manual on this. Gavin leaned onto the table.

"So smartass would think. Do you know better than this toaster or does your toy make all the decisions for you?" Connor's hand slid over hers holding it tightly under the table. Her eyes stared knives at him.

"Enough, Gavin! I'm sick of all the shit that comes out of your mouth." Hank pulled him aside and released him to the other side of the bar. He mumbled a few select words before he walked over to the back.

"What an ass." She whispered.

"A total ass." He added.

"Haha. There’s something funny about the way you swear. Like I don’t quite believe it means the same thing." She squeezed his hand back causing him to smile at her.

A few hours flew by without incident but that was all she could take from all the rowdy festivities.

"I stayed a significant amount of time, I believe. I'm gonna say goodbye to Hank then leave. Are you planning to stay longer?" She asked.

"Yes. I would like to talk to Hank some more. We get so involved with cases that sometimes we forget to just have a casual conversation."

"Okay, don't stay up too late." She sneaked in a brief kiss then walked up behind Hank giving him a quick hug. His lips still tingled from the warmth. He snapped out of it when he heard her voice getting louder. His ears picked up on the words being exchanged.

"How much did you tell your little love sick puppy, huh?" He side stepped into her path.

"Get out of my way, Gavin." She stood still staring straight at him.

"What, cant handle a conversation with another human? Something that isn’t obedient." He continued to agitate her.

"No, I just hate you Gavin."

"Did you miss going to the Eden Club so much that you just brought one home?" He stood over her trying to intimidate her.

"Fuck off!" Her body had gone rigid. Hands curled in tight fists. A couple of people started noticing the ruckus and chattered to themselves.

"No human could deal with your reclusive behavior so the best you could get is an emotionless android!" A sharp slap pierced through the room turning heads. Gavin chuckled as he straighten up. Connor's body stiffened. He had never seen her so furious. Despite all the eyes watching their argument she spoke. Her voice was shaky but intense.

"Connor... is a better person than you. Not because he was made that way but because he is driven to being a better person. That’s why I love him... and not you." Connor felt something powerful swell inside of him and it made him shiver. She stride past him to the door. Gavin's hand seized her upper arm jerking her back towards him. He heard her gasp in pain as he yanked her close to his face. Her eyes squeezed tight in torment. The high pitched breathing of her lungs. She was scared.

That was when something snapped in his head and his body went cold.

"Gavin enough!" Hank had jumped to her side trying to separate them. Connor's feet hit the ceramic tile alarmingly fast. Moving straight at him, his mind had one objective.

His hand locked onto Gavin's wrist while his forearm pressed into the arm's joint. She instantly slipped out of his grasp as he yelled.

"Fuck you! Ahhh!" Gavin's arm was locked in Connor's hold. He stared straight into Gavins eyes as he incrementally applied more and more force into his elbow drawing it out as long as he could.

"Connor! You made your point. Stop!" Hank tried prying Connor away but his focus was as impenetrable as his build. 'He will never hurt her again. He must suffer.' The thought ran threw his circuits. Overwriting any kind of function. 'Never again.' He felt a tiny crack when Gavin's arm bent just beyond its limits. Gavin continued screaming at him.

"Get him off!" His face twisted in agony. A group of people were on Connor and Gavin now trying as hard as they could to defuse the fight. His dead eyes were unmoving to Gavin's pleas.

"He's had enough. Let go, Connor!" He blocked out the sound. He wasn’t done. 'Never again.' Chanted into his blood.

'Never again.' The thought drowned him until he felt her soft hands cup his face to her. Her sweet voice called his name. His machine like mind tried to ignore her.

"Connor! Listen! You're scaring me!" His hands bolted away as Gavin dropped to the floor. He allowed himself to be guided into the bathroom but he didn’t remember much in passing.

"Look at me, Connor." His mind was racing but he managed to find her eyes. "Breathe with me. In and out. In... out." Her chest raising and falling too painfully slow for his attention. His eyes darted to her arm and scanned the red stripes. Gavin's fingerprints were branded into her bruised flesh. His hands desperately gripped the sink and dropped his eyes to the floor. He let out a short frustrated scream. The sink cracked under the tight clenching. He flinched when he felt her fingers caress his arm. She carefully kissed his shoulder.

"I'm okay. You're okay. Just stay here with me." They remained still for several minutes as he collected his thoughts. He lifted his gaze to look at her familiar face. She silently smiled back watching over him as he worked through his overwhelming anger.

"I couldn’t hold myself back when he grabbed you. He had no right saying those things let alone touching you. I wanted to rip his arm off so badly." Her hand rubbed the top of his.

"Thank you for coming to my rescue." She quietly spoke. He released another heavy breath. The muscles in his hands loosened a little bit more after recalling her words from earlier.

"I'm so proud of you. Everything you said to him even in front of all those people. When you said you loved me. I felt so... I felt..." He blew a steady stream of air out his mouth. That buzzing feeling was surging inside him again. Her face blushed slightly and her eyes darted away.

"Oh yeah, I was pretty hot headed back there but I don’t think anyone cares about that now." She winced as she looked back at him.

"It meant everything to me." He said longingly. His hands came up to hold the back of her head. Tilting her upwards. Her mouth parted slightly and he burst at the seams.

"28." He warned.

"Huh? 28?-" He tightly pressed into her lips smushing his nose into her cheek. He didn’t move an inch. Just pressed. Her hands snaked up his chest and clutched his jacket. They stood perfectly frozen in the middle of the bathroom like all they needed was each other. He left her lips but couldn’t move away. The feel of her quick breath tickled his skin.

"Feel better?" She gave him little Eskimo kisses as a grin began to spread across his cheeks.

"Yes. Much better."

"Okay then. I'm going to leave for real this time before either of us make a bigger scene." Her hands straightened his jacket then his hair.

"I should go with you." His hands rubbing each other nervously.

"No, go talk to Hank. He'll want to check up on you. Don't let what happen ruin your night." Connor began to nod.

"Okay. Please message me when you get home. I don’t want anything-"

"Of course. I really doubt Gavins going to start shit now. I'll see you later, dear. Take care of yourself." She gave him one last kiss before leaving the bar. He felt relaxed once she got into a taxi. Hank was seated at the counter finishing his drink. Connor sat next to him wondering what to say.

"He'll be alright. Better be. I'm not filing a report at my own party." Hank turned to him.

"I'm sorry about that display. I didn’t mean to make your night more stressful. This party was suppose to cheer you up."

"Hey, Gavin’s an asshole. I lost count how many times I wanted to punch his face in but its not worth getting yourself in trouble ya hear?." Hank stares at him. Making sure he listens carefully.

"Yes, I realize that now." He stares down at the counter brooding. What was he suppose to do? There was no way he could just sit there and watch.

"But I get it. I would've probably done the same thing given your... ya know." He gestured to all of him.

"No, I don't." Connor tilted his head. Hank swirled the brown liquid in his glass and smiled.

"You guys are getting pretty serious huh?" He took a sip.

"I don't understand what you're asking. We both take each others well being very seriously." Connors fingers were tapping the counter trying to connect Hanks thoughts.

"No, what I mean is you've been with her for a long time is all." His arms opening and closing while his body swayed in the chair. Connor cautiously stabilized him.

"We've been keeping each other company for 9 months, 1 week and 3 days perhaps longer depending on the terms."

"Oooh yeah, the Christmas party, I remember. That’s when you started counting it?" His pointer finger wagged as he finished his drink.

"I had seen her before at the front desk but that was the first time we had a conversation." Connor's focus began to drift away the more he thought about their first real meeting. The first time she laughed. How shy she was and how far she has come.

"Huh, no shit. It has been a awhile." Hank placed a hand on Connor's shoulder which snapped him back to reality.

"I'm glad you're happy, kid. She's a nice girl who apparently isn’t afraid to slap an asshole either. Sure did look satisfying." Hank chuckled as he slapped Connor's back.

"Yeah. She's really special." Connors smile widened even more.

"Oh Jesus, you've got it bad, son." Hank laughed.

"But might I suggest you stop here before you regret it tomorrow." Hank begrudgingly took out his wallet.

"Oh, I've got this one." Connor slipped Jimmy some cash.

"Yeah, alright. Fine. But no more mushy stuff. I cant even look at your goofy face right now."

"Got it."

Connor and Hank had some time to catch up before he assisted Hank home, pet Sumo, and then turned in for the night. Despite the party crasher, Hank still had a good birthday.

[adrenaline-whump]

In the Wind - Chapter 1

It’s fucked up, in a way. None of it would have happened if any little thing had been different. If I’d been more alert – but Hank’ll tell you it was all his fault. He said he didn’t blame me, that he would have done exactly what I did.

Usually we don’t run into much drama. I mean seriously, forget anything you’ve seen on TV. Half the time the “fugitives” we bring in are people who forgot when their court date was, or couldn’t get a ride there. A few skips are dangerous, sure, but if you’re smart and careful and keep your head on a swivel, it’s a manageable risk. And “smart and careful” is pretty much the definition of Hank, so when he wants to put together a pickup team, we’ll go wherever he tells us to.

So when he called and was like, “Hey, Cade, what do you think about heading over to North Carolina?” that wasn’t typical but I was interested. North Carolina’s a fair haul from Memphis, but Hank had gotten some leads on a pair of skips, Owen Casey and Tara Michaels, who were supposed to be traveling together, and the payoff for both of them would make the trip worth it, assuming we could find them. What’s funny is that I’d picked up Owen once before, like three years earlier with a different crew, and drove him back from Franklin. I told Hank what I remembered about the guy, basically that he was average size, and when we rolled him up before, he didn’t put up a fight.

The other reason we went was because Amy’s family has a cabin up there, and they said we could use it for a few days. Amy’s one of our part-time crew, ex-Army like Hank. Hank likes to have her along if we’re after a female, since it seems like girls feel safer surrendering to another girl. On the other hand, males tend to get distracted or confused when they encounter Amy in full gear, so that works too.

The place she told us about was usually rented out, but her folks thought they were going to be up there that week, and then they changed plans. Amy didn’t come with us on this trip, but they gave us the family rate anyway, and the cabin was a lot nicer than what we’d typically get. It was up a mountain and down a little road, nice view from the back deck. The inside was all wood and dark green and navy blue, and the lamps and curtains and stuff all had bears on them. Donnie thought it was hilarious and said he was going to decorate his apartment entirely in bear as soon as we got back.

So it was Hank and me and Donnie and Alex, and the first day we didn’t have much luck, but the second day Tara turned up at her mama’s trailer and we managed to roll her up there. She didn’t fuss and just seemed sort of resigned. For girls we typically don’t go all raid mode anyway; we just tell them who we are and ask them nicely to come with us.  Her mama was a little freaked out, but Hank calmed her down by being polite and respectful.  He’s good at that kind of thing.

Tara wouldn’t say where Owen was, which wasn’t too surprising, but we were hoping to find them together. We couldn’t really hang on to her and look for him at the same time. Hank told Donnie he’d drawn the short straw, and he got to run Tara back to Memphis while we looked a little more for Owen. That was Hank being nice; Donnie was the least intimidating of us four to look at. Hank’s the tall wiry type; I’m pretty average, I guess; and Alex is a fucking wall. Dude’s probably got thirty pounds on me and it’s not fat. Donnie’s a little on the short side, friendliest guy you’ll ever meet, always in a good mood, and an absolute viper in a fight. People underestimate him, and it’s so damn funny every time. If you want up-front intimidation, you bring a big boy like Alex, but if you want an ace in your back pocket, you bring Donnie.

There was some discussion of whether Donnie wanted to stop back by the cabin and get his stuff, but Hank said we’d probably only stay another day at most, and we could bring it back with us. So Donnie headed west with Tara, and the rest of us put heads together on where we might dig up Owen. The most likely was that he would show up at the mama’s place in Sylva, where he thought Tara was, unless he was still in Asheville where Hank and Richard had been tracking him.

Hank talked to the mama a little more, who as it turned out wasn’t a fan of her daughter’s no-good skip of a boyfriend, and mama promised to call Hank if Owen showed up looking for Tara. We went on to Asheville, the three of us.

We nosed around where Hank’s info had pointed us, and managed to turn up an old black guy running a soul food dive, who rubbed his chin and said yes, he’d talked to those kids. They were looking for some cash work, and he told them he might have something next week, but they said they had to go on to Charlotte and did he know anyone there who might need some temporary help. Which was interesting because Hank had an address for a cousin of Owen’s near Charlotte.

We talked through the options. We might hear from Tara’s mama, but Owen probably wouldn’t stay put once he knew Tara had been picked up. He’d probably run, and he might just go on to the cousin’s place. You wouldn’t think skips would be that obvious, running to family, but they do it all the time. If we could get ahead of him and be waiting for him, if and when he showed up at the cousin’s, that would be perfect. The thing was, we were standing in Asheville, Donnie was on the way back to Memphis in one truck, the three of us were in Hank’s Tahoe, and a bunch of our stuff was in a cabin an hour the wrong way.

No problem. Hank looked up a car rental place and we got there before they closed. I was tasked to go back and get all our crap, then meet them in Charlotte. If they saw Owen before I got there, they’d contact the local cops to ask for an assist. I tossed my gear in the back seat of the rental and headed back to the cabin.

***

You know, you instinctively think of the place you sleep as safe, even if it’s more home base than home. The cabin was just like we left it, door locked and all, nothing out of the ordinary. I flipped on the nearest light, dropped my jacket on a chair, and walked into the kitchen. There was a red and gold sunset that was perfectly framed by the window over the sink.

And a voice behind me said, “Don’t fucking move, Cade.”

Do you know what an adrenaline dump is? It’s when shit goes seriously wrong and that wave of hot and cold punches you in the gut, crashes over your head, and races down to your toes in about a second and a half. I’ve had it happen enough to recognize it, and it gets a little easier to deal with, but not much. I waited out the wave, then slowly turned my head to look over my shoulder, just enough to see Owen step out of the hallway, pointing something dark and metallic my way with both hands.

“I said don’t fucking move,” he repeated, furiously intense. “If you twitch the wrong way, I will turn your head inside out.”

I believed him. I still had my Glock on my hip. He knew it, I knew it, and we both knew his trigger pull would be faster than my draw.

In my head, I was like WHAT. THE. FUCK. Because how in the fucking hell was he here of all places? He circled behind me like a stalking wolf.

“Step to your left,” he said, “and put your hands on the cabinet in front of you.”

I could guess where this was going, but I didn’t have any bright ideas for how to win this particular scenario. I’d lost as soon as I dropped my guard inside the cabin. It’s the kind of stupid that can get you killed. I moved as directed and listened to the floor creak as he approached me – slowly, like you’d walk toward a snake that you didn’t know if it was the poisonous kind or not. Cold metal grazed the back of my neck.

“Don’t twitch,” he warned again. A whole string of four-letter words went through my head, but I stayed still as he snagged my Glock from its holster.

“Put your left hand behind your back,” he ordered.

I didn’t immediately move. I was trying to think of something, anything, to redirect this encounter. “Owen…” I started, before he cut me off. I’m not sure what I was going to say.

“Shut it, Cade,” he said savagely. “You wanted to find me; you found me. Now it’s up to you, do you want to die right now? Or do you want to cooperate with me?”

I answered with about the same heat, “Well, if it’s a choice between getting shot in the head now, or later, you might as well fucking get it over with.”

It might have been a mistake; hell, it could have been the last thing I ever said. I said it because – well, partly because of adrenaline, and partly because – it’s hard to explain. I didn’t know what the hell he wanted, and him showing up to confront me made not a damn lick of sense. I thought there was a good chance I was going to be straight up executed, and something in me said fuck it, I’d rather just get shot, than dragged out to the woods and shot. I mean, why go along with it if it doesn’t make a difference?

He didn’t answer for a moment, and I stood there wondering if you actually hear the bang that kills you, but then he said, “Look, I want to talk to you. But I don’t fucking trust you, OK? Left hand. Now.”

OK, so we might at least have something to negotiate about. That is, if I could give him the answer he wanted, and if he felt like letting me live after he got that answer. Still, a slim-to-none chance is better than zero. I was furious at myself, at him, at fucking everything, and one of the hardest things I’ve ever done was shove all that down and make myself move like he said.

He had zip ties, not really a surprise. Hardware store kind, two of them with one connected through the other. I moved my right hand when he told me to, and tried not to sweat too obviously as the second one zipped tight.

The cabin’s kitchen, living room, and dining room were one big open area. Owen dragged one of the dining room chairs a little distance from the table and turned it a quarter turn, then shoved me into it. He walked around in front of me, still covering me with what turned out to be a beat-to-shit Ruger. He’d gotten a few more tattoos since the last time I’d seen him, and bulked up some. A lot of guys do that when they’re inside, from boredom and sometimes for self-preservation. But it wasn’t just the physical; his whole attitude was different. If you deal with skips for long enough, you start to get a spidey sense about which ones might be a problem, and Owen…yeah. Too bad for me I hadn’t seen him first.

“Where’s Tara at?” he demanded.

Shit. “We rolled her up this afternoon.”

“Answer the fucking question.”

I blinked. “You mean where is she right this second? I don’t know, probably halfway to Memphis.” I’m not sure what he thought the answer was going to be, but it wasn’t that.

“Why the hell would she be halfway to Memphis?”

“Because that’s what we do, you know that. We always go straight back when we pick someone up.”

“But you’re still here.”

“We sent her back with one of our guys.”

He looked at me like he didn’t want to believe me, but I’d answered too quick and straightforward to be lying.

“There were four of you.  Where’re the other two?”

We locked eyes for a minute, and I didn’t answer him.

A muscle on the side of his jaw twitched, and he closed the distance between us in two steps, grabbed the front of my shirt, and jammed the end of the Ruger under my chin. “We can play this game if you want to, Cade,” he said tightly. “But if someone pulls into this driveway in the next couple minutes, things are going to get loud, and you’re probably going to end it here. Do you understand me?”

“Yeah,” was all I said. I was seething at the absolute insanity of all this. I wouldn’t have minded as much if I was actually, you know, working at the time, because what we do is dangerous and we know that. But it was going to fucking piss me off to bleed out in Amy’s parents’ cabin when I was only there to grab our stuff and get out.

“Who’s Tara with?”

“One of our guys.”

I had maybe a half-second warning as he pulled the Ruger away, and then it smashed into the side of my head. It rocked me pretty well, and I guess it woke up my one smart brain cell, because it occurred to me that escalating the situation probably wasn’t the best strategy.

“What’s his name, Cade?”

“Donnie,” I said through gritted teeth, wondering why the hell he cared.

“The shorter guy?  Gray T-shirt?”

“Yeah.”

“Black F-150?”

“…Yeah.”

“So your other two guys are in the Tahoe.”

I looked at him.  He waited.

“Yeah.”

He let go of me and went to look out the front window.  

So that was unsettling. He knew how many of us there were; fine, someone could have let him know there were four guys looking for him. It happens. But someone actually describing us in detail, like down to names? I mean, what the actual fuck? It’s not like we go around introducing ourselves to everyone we run into. Maybe he’d seen us somewhere without us seeing him. But even if he had, how the hell had he found this place?

“If you called Donnie and told him to come back, would he?” he asked.

“No. There’s no reason we’d need him to do that. He’d know something was up.”

He muttered something under his breath and glared out the front window for a while longer. Then he looked back at me speculatively, checked the window again, and finally nodded to himself. The Ruger disappeared into a low-profile waistband rig, and he pushed one of the living room chairs a few feet over to block the front door. They were big old chunky wood-frame chairs, the kind you always see in mountain cabins. Another one was angled toward me, and he sat down on the arm of it.

“What do you think are the chances,” he asked, “that your crew would trade Tara for you?”

~~~

[Chapter 2]

[echoes-of-the-clockwork]

Detroit: Become Human Connor x OC [14]

A/n: This is a story with my OC from my Falcon of Detroit story, Phoebe Falcon. This was something I was going to add in the story, but omitted it and decided to turn it into a one shot. I hope you all enjoy! Love you all!!!

Fun Fact= All the names I've used as secondary characters in this book are the names of marching band members I knew in high school.

••••••••••••••••

~Phoebe's POV~

"Mother of all that is holy, please, shove the largest cactus on this earth up Gavin's ass!" I shouted from the break room. I stirred the sugar and milk in my coffee to make it more flavorful as insult after insult clouded my mind. I refused to say them out loud because of the vulgarity behind most of them. It took all my strength to bite my tongue as I walked back to my desk. I forced a smile as my colleagues eyed me strangely from hearing my outburst only minutes ago. 

I placed the cup on my desk before grabbing the case file beside it and slamming it down. Since it was only paper, it didn't create an obnoxious noise and I groaned. Peering over at the working Hank, I grab his attention. "Hey, Hank, do you have a book I can borrow?"

"Uh, yeah." He opens his top drawer and pulls out a book.

Not caring what the title of the novel was, I slam it on my desk. The ear-piercing noise, once again, caused everyone's gaze to fall on me. The sound was enough to quench my dramatic need and I sighed in relief. I handed the book back to a confused Hank with a satisfied smile. "Thank you for the book."

"All you wanted it for was to slam it down on your desk?"

"Yep. I needed to announce my frustration to the entire station. You can thank Gavin for being the catalyst to my irritation."

"What happened this time?"

"Pricky Dicky believes an android is behind the murder of the man we found slaughtered at the diner," I groan.

"Why the fuck would he think that? We found nothing that leads to a deviant or a rogue being the one behind the murder."

"Not to mention, there were traces of blood underneath the victim's nails that didn't belong to him. Connor helped me identify whose blood it was."

"Whoa, hold up! How come this is the first time I'm hearing this?" Hank questioned with his hands slightly raised.

"Phoebe wishes to keep the evidence under wraps," Connor said as he walked over and sat down in the chair in front of my desk.

Hank raised a brow. "And why's that?"

"She believes someone in the station works with the assailant," the android replies.

"That's a pretty bold accusation, Phee," the man comments.

"Just don't tell anyone, Hank. Someone in this office knows the man we're looking for," I stated.

The Lieutenant leaned across his desk, resting his hands on the surface. "What's our suspect's name?"

"Sanjay Boyd. He's a thirty-two-year-old construction worker who works for Skyline Contractors. Connor and I will be paying him a visit in a couple of hours," I answer just above a whisper.

Hank returned to his chair and reclined back in it. "Gotcha. My lips are sealed."

"Once I return, I'm rubbing it all in Reed's face and shoving my foot up his ass for being an ass!"

Hank smiled in pure enjoyment. "I'll bring popcorn so I can enjoy the show even more."

"Save me some because I'm gonna savor every second of seeing his stupid expression after learning he was wrong. I might even buy some candy on the way back."

"Bring some tequila, too. I'm gonna need a drink to wash down the popcorn."

"I'll make sure it's strawberry tequila."

"Screw that fruity shit. I want plain, strong, burn-your-throat tequila. I need something to kick my ass so I can pass out."

"Then, I'll pick up the whoop-ass tequila you love so much. And, I'll throw in a taxi so you can get home after you pass out in the parking lot."

"What—you aren't gonna chauffeur me, Phee?" Hank asked in disbelief. "I ain't spending a penny on a taxi."

"Then you'll be spending the night in the parking lot. I'll make sure to drag you under a tree so no one will hit you when they arrive in the morning."

"You're turning my ass into a speed bump, eh?"

"You know it!" I took a sip of my coffee, noting I had put too much sugar in it but not caring one bit. "So, what will it be—become the first ever human speed bump or call for a taxi?"

Hank grumbles in disbelief. "I'll fucking call for a damn taxi..."

"Good."

-A Few Hours Later-

Connor and I arrived at Boyd's apartment. The building desperately needed attendance as the old wallpaper was peeling off the walls and the floors were filthy. An odor wafted through the halls, earning a gag from me. "Ugh, smells awful in here."

I pinched my nose as Connor knocked on Boyd's door. We received no answer and the two of us exchanged glances. Trying once again, the android knocked louder. "Sanjay Boyd?"

Silence.

"We're entering in style. Break it down, Connor," I ordered. The android nodded and kicked in the door. The wooded obstacle broke off its henges, crashing on the floor. "I didn't mean to literally break it."

"Apologies, Phoebe," Connor simply replies.

"Don't apologize to me. You murdered an innocent door!" I tease, placing a hand on his arm with a smirk. "Anyway, let's find our suspect." Connor nodded and we stepped over the broken door and into the pigsty of an apartment. Beer bottles, cigarette butts, and clothes were scattered across the floor and every piece of furniture in sight. The smell was more putrid in the apartment than the hallway.

Connor suddenly grabbed my arm, stopping my body entirely. "Be careful of where you step."

I glanced down and saw what Connor was talking about. Shattered glass was near our feet, creating a trail that led to the bathroom. The android stepped in front of me, preventing me from entering the bathroom. "Connor?"

"Stay here," he said in a low voice. I did as I was told and watched as the android entered the bathroom. When he disappeared around the corner, I heard a gunshot and groaning.

My eyes widened as our suspect ran from the bathroom, pressing a hand to his side. Blood trickled through his fingers as he dashed out of the apartment. I quickly take chase and follow him down the hall. He called the rusty elevator and I pulled out my gun. Before he could escape, I disengaged the safety on my pistol and shot hit in the leg. Boyd fell, screaming at the top of his lungs from the pain.

I holstered my gun just as Connor caught up. While he dealt with Boyd, I contacted the station for someone to take him off our hands. I sigh in relief as Boyd was passed out from the pain and Connor laid his body against the wall beside the elevator. "Thank the Lord he finally stopped screaming."

"Mr. Boyd will need his injury to be tended to, Phoebe," Connor spoke up.

"Yeah, I'll have the officer who's on their way to collect him take Sanjay to the hospital. Bastard doesn't deserve an ambulance after killing an innocent man who was about to become a father. He deserves to die, but I'll give him a chance to fight."

Glancing up, I saw the elevator was descending to the lobby. A wave of uneasiness washed over me as I watched the red numbers change. "Connor, may you check the apartment for evidence?"

From the android's expression, I knew he picked up on my anxiety. "Phoebe—"

"Please?"

Silently, Connor nodded and headed back to Boyd's apartment. Just as he turned the corner, the elevator opened to reveal Officer Santora. "Where's the suspect?" She asked.

I nodded to her left. "Right there, Santora. Could you take him to the hospital?"

"Right away, Detective Falcon." She bent down next to Sanjay and whispered something in his ear. I tilted my head in confusion, curious as to what the officer was telling the unconscious murderer. Officer Santora stood up tall, quickly drawing her pistol and aiming it at me. "Place your gun on the ground."

"So, you're the one in cahoots with Boyd. Not surprised at all," I said, removing the pistol from my hip and placing it on the cool tile beneath our feet.

"How'd you figure it out?" She asked, gun aimed at my head.

"You were the officer to report the murder at the diner with witnesses all around. Some of them told me of your strange behavior and how you kept your eyes on Mr. Foster, our victim."

"You couldn't have deduced it was me just from that, Detective. What else gave me away?"

"I checked patrols of that night and saw you were supposed to be stationed in downtown, not the southern outskirts of the city. I connected the pieces and learned of your relationship with Sanjay."

"And you're the only one who knows it's me?" She questioned.

"Yes. I kept it to myself so Hank and Connor wouldn't try confronting you. I just needed to find Sanjay and knew you'd end up crawling to his side if someone was on his trail."

"Speaking of that damn android, where is it?" She demanded sternly.

I sighed. "Not here. I told him to secure the perimeter in case Sanjay tried to escape."

"You're lying! I didn't see it when I entered the building!"

"There's more to this building besides the front. It's got three other sides. Y'know, like a square—four sides in all." I drew a square in the air using my finger.

"You're a smart ass, alright," she scoffs.

From the corner of my eye, I saw Connor using the shadows of the hallway to his advantage and stealthily approaching Officer Santora. She was solely focused on me, completely oblivious of the android who was sneaking up on her. "If you kill me, the entire police force will know who pulled the trigger."

"Not unless I spout a lie and tell them you were killed by the suspect as he was escaping."

"Nice try, but Connor will know the truth and androids are programmed not to lie, especially an advanced prototype like him. Admit it—you've been caught, Julie."

"If I kill you now, there will be plenty of time to escape," the woman responds.

"Then, pull the trigger." Julie stepped closer, her index finger resting on the trigger. Staring at her hands, I saw they were shaking. She bit her bottom lip, eyes full of hesitation. I smirked at her, causing the officer to halt her advance. "You can't pull it."

"Yes, I can!" She bellows.

"If you could, you would've already shot me between the eyes."

Before Julie could say anything else, Connor knocked the pistol out of her hand and delivered a blow to the back of her neck. The officer collapsed to the floor, unconscious. I leaned against the wall behind me and stared up at the ceiling with a sigh. "You have impeccable timing, Robocop."

Connor glanced at me, our eyes locking. "Are you hurt, Phoebe?"

"Nope. Perfectly fine. Thank you, Connor."

I contacted another patrol and they arrived a few minutes later. They took Boyd to the hospital while Connor and I handcuffed Julie and drove her to the station.

-Detroit Police Department-

Two officers escorted Julie to a cell after taking her off our hands. Connor and I headed to my desk with an eager Hank awaiting us. "Saw you made an arrest, Phee."

"More like Connor made one. I'd be dead if he wasn't there," I said.

"It was due to your planning that I was able to apprehend Officer Santora," Connor stated.

"Well, that's two suspects down. Did you get the booze and candy?" Hank questioned.

"No. We couldn't exactly go to the store with a suspect handcuffed in the back seat, Hank," I huff.

Hank groaned in disbelief. "Guess I'll just pour some vodka into my coffee. Never tried the combination before."

"Y'know, Jeffrey is gonna get pissed if he sees you drinking on the job."

"That's why I'm sneaking it into the coffee. He won't notice." Hank pulled out a flask from his desk drawer and headed to the break room.

I shook my head with a smile before turning my attention to Connor. "How 'bout a movie night? I notice you've been skimming through my DVDs at my place since we watched Batman together a few months ago. Anything catch your eye?"  

"There was one," Connor replies.

"Then, let's call it a day and watch a movie!" We left the station and headed to my house.

While I placed my things down, Connor waltzed over to my DVD collection and pulled out the movie that had caught his eye. The android handed the case over and I read the masterpiece he chose.

Psycho

"You picked a beautiful masterpiece, indeed!" I popped the DVD out of its case and plopped it into the DVD player. Connor sat down on the couch and I grabbed the remote before sitting next to him. I grabbed and hugged a pillow, leaning my head on Connor's shoulder as the movie started.

Just as when we watched Batman, Connor's eyes were glued to the screen, filled with a spectrum of emotions. As the iconic shower scene unfolded on the screen, I stole a glance at Connor. From the corner of my eye, I saw Connor's own eyes widen as Marion was stabbed repeatedly. Blood washed down the drain as the woman screamed at the top of her lungs.

-An Hour Later-

After the credits of Alfred Hitchcock's masterpiece rolled, I smiled from ear to ear. "How'd you like it, Connor?"

"Very intriguing, Phoebe."

"We should do this every Friday night," I spoke my thoughts.

"Yes, we should," Connor smiled at me.

I wrapped my arms around his neck and gave him a sloppy kiss on the cheek. "It's a date!"

[genkidesurun]

I’m bored and have no story (or curhatan) to share... so it’s time to duel answer some questionnaire! Actually, the original post [here] got more than ninety questions, but I’ll just pick the ones I’m interested in and alter some of them a bit. 

1. If you had to be gay for a day, what celebrity would you most like to take on a date? 

It’s arduous to project the kind of girl that’ll draw my attention. But since I have the hots for nerdy guys (with fast-paced speech, silly gesticulations, and, of course, glasses!) like John and Hank Green, I’ll probably go for girls with such similitudes. Hmmm... Emily Graslie, perhaps? 

6. What are the top five most contrasting songs on your playlist? 

When you have both metals and nasyeeds in your playlist... It’s like what Wali called ‘tomat’ (red--tobat maksiat). All those fucking and shitting and hell, to praising The Lord and acknowledging your penitence and baper-ing; repeating over and over and over and over... 

8. If you could make just ONE change to this world, what would it be and why? 

Erase the notion of witches (wow, I’m feeling like Madoka; ups, spoiler alert). Can I wish for immortality? 

9. If you could wake up tomorrow and be fluent in three additional languages, which would you choose? 

Quenya, Parseltongue, aaaaannddd SIMLISH, YEAH! Have you listened to Katy Perry’s Last Friday Night sung in gibberish--I mean--Simlish? You really should! 

11. What are the top five movies to make you cry? 

Hello Ghost 

The Green Mile 

Hachi: A Dog’s Tale 

You’re the Apple of My Eye 

Miracles in Cell No. 7 

Yes, I’m such a crybaby. Hello Ghost and The Green Mile made me ugly the most. 

12. What’s the scariest nightmare you’ve ever had? Describe it in detail. 

Uh... overslept and missed exams. Good thing they were just dreams! 

13. Would you rather raise 25 children or have the chance of ever having children taken away? Why? 

WHY SHOULD I OPT FOR RAISING 25 CHILDREN?! AIN’T NOBODY HAD TIME (AND MONEY) FOR THAT. 

17. If you had to lose one of the five senses, which would you choose and why? 

Rather than senses, it’s probably better to discard emotions. 

21. If your life was about to become like Cheaper by the Dozen and you were going to be saddled with twelve children, what would you name six girls and six boys? 

Let’s say those children were orphans taken care by me. I’d happily give them the names of fictional characters! Before I familiarize you with my kids, let me introduce myself first: Karlisha “Kirun” Runa Niephaus, the caretaker and the custodian, along with Raine Virginia Sage and Damuron ‘Raven’ Schwann Oltorain. 

(Boy) Vandesdelca ‘Van’ Musto Fende The big brother of Tear. As the result of his upbringing as an orphan at early age, as well as being the oldest in the orphanage, he became precocious, looking after his sister in their parents’ absence and willing to help the caretakers attending the other children while also struggling on his study. He was an amiable fellow and well-respected throughout the orphanage. Currently in the last year of senior-high and busy preparing himself for a law school. 

(Girl) Mystearica ‘Tear’ Aura Fende  Van’s baby sister who adored him dearly. She had grown into somewhat a wallflower; a shrinking violet. Although shy around people, Tear was a girl with a strong moral compass, never quivered to defend her friends from bullies. Like her brother, she had a beautiful, melodious voice that had brought her to become a choir member in both the town’s church, alongside Van, and her school. Currently a seventh-grader. 

(Boy) Ffamran ‘Balthier’ mied Bunansa Both dashing and quick-witted, Balthier was the conspicious of all. His charm and eloquence could easily impress anyone he met, thus making him the most popular kid around. Albeit a bit self-centered at times, Balthier could show his altruitic side, especially when it came to his bestfriend’s affairs, Ramza. Currently a ninth-grader and a valuable player of his school’s basketball team. 

(Boy) Ramza Lugria Beoulve A boy who survived from a wildfire that burned an entire village, including his parents, his beloved sister Alma, and his bestfriend Delita Heiral. His meek and tender disposition clicked perfectly with Balthier’s smug and jaunty manner, therefore creating a bridge of trust between them. Ramza had an eye for world history, spending most of his time in the library to read books and write essays. Currently a ninth-grader and established a close relationship with the history teacher Goffard Gaffgarion. 

(Boy) Edgar Roni Figaro Sabin’s older twin brother who was an electronics hobbyist and a gamer. He was the technician around the house, repairing the appliances and, sometimes, modifying them. Knowing very well that he had insufficient funds to begin with, he befriended Cid Del Norte Marquez and worked at the latter’s workshop as a part-timer. Though a geek at heart, Edgar didn’t constrain himself as a mere geek; he was surprisingly flirtatious, but to no avail. Currently an eleventh-grader. 

(Boy) Sabin Rene Figaro   Edgar’s younger twin brother. Unlike his prudent and erudite twin, Sabin was quick-tempered and straightforward, and excelled at physical activities, particularly martial arts. Under the tutelage of his karate master Cyan Garamonde, Sabin achieved black-belt in a no-time and had won many tournaments. Of all their differences, he and his brother shared the same unflappable determination and ambitions. Currently an eleventh-grader.

(Girl) Estellise “Estelle” Sidos Heurassein Cute, courteous, and bright; Estelle clearly caught everyone’s attention, but still being humble as she looked up to Philia. She was one of those bibliophiles who could even recite various passages from heart. After the incident involving her two bestfriends, Yuri Lowell and Flynn Scifo, Estelle promised herself to become a splendid doctor, thus leading her to be studious, hoping to obtain a scholarship. Currently a tenth-grader, a model student, and a member of the science club. 

(Girl) Margarita “Rita” Blastia Mordio A curious prodigy with an IQ of 160; however, lacked of social competence. She liked to correct people whose perceptivity was wrong, which inadvertently annoyed them unbeknownst to her. Rita was close to Raine’s little brother Genis due to their similar level of intelligence and close age, and to Estelle who always welcomed her presence. Currently a fifth-grader. 

(Boy) Genis Kloitz Sage The genius younger brother of caretaker Raine whose brain power could disparage the grown-ups’. Even as a child, he could solve his sister’s undergraduate math problems and sometimes engaged in Edgar’s projects. Due to his superior intellect, he demonstrated repellent disposition and was cynical towards others, but would greatly respect everyone with the same intelligence as him. Currently a sixth-grader and had a crush on his P.E. teacher Presea Combatir. 

(Girl) Rutee Atwight Katrea An upbeat, tomboyish lass with misunderstandable attitude. Having a firm moral sense yet being irascible at the same time, Rutee could easily pick a fight with anyone she deemed erroneous. Despite this shrewish demeanor, she was in fact solicitous and attentive towards her close relations. Due to the hapless circumstances, Rutee became eager to earn money, working as anything as her employer wanted her to be. Currently an eighth-grader. 

(Girl) Philia Clemente Felice Like your everyday bespectacled girl, Philia was smart, genteel, and naive; pretty much a foil to Rutee. A devout Christian, she highly regarded her belief and attended the church every week. Through her science teacher Batista Diego, nature and chemical experiments had greatly interested her as she aimed to be a chemist in the future. Currently an eleventh-grader, a model student, and the chairwoman of the science club.

(Girl) Rydia Asura Mist The youngest and newest in the orphanage, being five years in age. She was rescued by the sailors Cecil Harvey and Kain Highwind from ship drowning, a disaster that killed her mother and developed her fear of waterbody. She loved animals dearly as she often visited the town’s farm and pet house with the company of one of the caretakers. 

25. What’s the most frightening thing you’ve ever seen in your life? 

Failures. 

26. Name five books you think everyone should read and give a brief synopsis for each. 

Too lazy for the synopsis. Just check them out on GoodReads: 

The Murder of Roger Ackroyd (by Agatha Christie)  Lemme proudly present one of Christie’s masterpieces. I personally found this more exquisite than And Then There Were None. 

A Short History of Nearly Everything (by Bill Bryson)  I know Sagan’s Cosmos and Hawking’s The Brief History of Time are popular as hell, but hell... they were published in the 80′s (but still gold though, you really should check them out). We need newer ones and Bryson’s is certainly the best--for me, at least, at this time--in elaborating big history and the development of science. 

Why Evolution Is True (by Jerry A. Coyne)  A nifty allusion for Darwin’s The Origin of Species. No. Don’t protest. Dawkins probably produces more of this kind of books than Coyne does and, of course, is far more popular than any evolutionary biologists alive. Dawkins is a brilliant writer and all, but Coyne has the apt for making the theory easier to comprehend. 

Little Women (by Louisa M. Alcott)  Still the best bildungsroman. Ever. 

Speaker for the Dead (by Orson S. Card)  Sci-fi, philosopy, anthropology, politics, religion; all in one. Yes. I’m such a weirdo to enjoy the second book far more than the first one. 

27. Do you believe one can fall out of love? 

It’s a fact. Why bother asking anyway. 

28. What are your three favourite sounding words? 

Peculiar  Don’t you think the word ‘peculiar’ has such a peculiar pronunciation? 

Halcyon  Archaic one, yes. So old-fashioned that Kirun--who fancies classics--is indulged by its subliminal beauty. Moreover, it was used as the title of a Bleach’s chapter: ‘Goodbye, Halcyon Days’. Aren’t ya romantic, Orihime? 

Preposterous I like to shout out this word--in my solitude, of course--whenever expressing my disbelief. 

31. List the seven deadly sins in order of the one you feel you commit the most to the one you feel you commit the least. 

Pride, greed, wrath, envy, gluttony, sloth, then lust. 

32. What’s your current desktop picture? 

46. What’s your favourite ever television commercial? 

49. What’s the most romantic thing anyone has ever said to you? 

“Kirun kan pacarnya aku.” -- by some girl 

51. Name five facts that the vast majority of people won’t know about you. 

I’m a girl (see? I knew you’d be surprised). 

Clearly not a fujoshi. What? You guys don’t believe me? Fine then. 

Though having [too] many guy friends, all of my bestfriends are girls; which are, of course, very few in numbers. 

Yes, I’m very aware that I love Gaara so dearly, but I’m still normal too, you know, since I had crushes in real life. And they were boys. I know, I know, I’m so gay, right? Wait, what am I exacly; male of female? 

Contrary to popular belief, I’m actually a piiiipp who wishes to openly express my opinions and matters without worrying any prejudice nor distressing the ones I love. 

54. Share five goals you want to complete in the next 30 days.

Sing Asterisk (of Orange Range’s) fluently. This one’s freaking hard. 

Read more than ten books. 

Write at least a short story. My imagination has been dormant these days. Inspirations, I summon thee! 

Survive without snacks and confectionaries. Kirun, you can do this! 

Yes. For one more time. Survive. 

58. State eight facts about your body.

I have all the necessities of human being. 

Oh, except my appendix had been removed. 

Thank goodness the tail remains vestigial. 

I’m getting fatter (don’t kill me, people). 

A bit taller than average. 

Pale as Suzanna-on-action. 

My nails aren’t neatly trimmed. 

I hate to admit this, but... my nose is... flat--annoyingly flat that even my cute, golden-hearted but veracious little sister pointed, “Sis, is your nose always that tabular?” WHY LIL SIS WHY?! 

60. Are you allergic to anything? If so, what? 

Romantic love. Sure I do not resist to read or watch romance, but if it happens directly to me... NO. PLEASE. STAY OUT OF THE LINE, MISTER/MISS. 

61. Describe yourself in one word/sentence? 

“Tetapi sesederhana-sederhana cerita yang ditulis, dia mewakili pribadi individu (...)“ -- Jejak Langkah (by Pramoedya A. Toer) 

63. Share five facts about your childhood. 

Can I write it in quotes?

“It was the best of times, it was the worst of times.” 

“If you don’t imagine, nothing ever happens at all.” 

“We need never be ashamed of our tears.”

“And now that you don’t have to be perfect, you can be good.” 

“It’s no use going back to yesterday, because I was a different person then.” 

71. Name five people who are famous who you find attractive.

John and Hank Green (I really can’t choose between those two), 

Matthew Macfadyen (best Mr. Darcy ever!),  

Mark Ruffalo (husky voice and wistful countenance, how I love those combination), 

Kim Rae-won (probably the only Korean actor that I find cute), and 

Eddie Redmayne (HOW CAN YOU PLAY NEWT WITH SO MUCH CUTENESS?! HOW CAN YOUUUU!!!). 

81. Share five facts about your best friend(s). 

Most of them are humans. 

One is the embodiment of integrated-circuits. 

Some are ailurophile. 

Few are bibliophile. 

None is pedophile, gladly. 

82. What’s the most superficial characteristic you look for in a partner?

Has to be the opposite sex. Duh. 

83. Share five ways to instantly win your heart. 

Are you Gaara? If not, well... screw you.  

88. Give a description of the person you dislike the most. 

We share the same room. We share the same clothes. We share the same food. We share the same body. We share the same mind. 

91. If food was people, who would be your best friend, your life partner, your enemy, and your ex? 

Best friend: okonomiyaki and curry ramen. 

Life partner: mom’s seared, chilli scallops. 

Enemy: pare. 

Ex: instant noodles.