#i need to gather all the exes with benefits fics together and put them somewhere

[semperama]

Daniel getting injured in ex-husbands with benefits universe… 👀

This takes place before the divorce. A little bit of a peek into how things might have started to fall apart. Sorry in advance for the angst. <3

It's dumb and petty, but Daniel's pissed at Max for the rest of the weekend.

Max couldn't have done anything. He wasn't realistically going to park his car, jump out, and run to Daniel over something as small as a broken hand. Or even something much bigger than a broken hand. They had this conversation before they got married, about whether they were both okay with the reality of being married to someone with such a dangerous job. It's one thing to take your life in your own hands daily; it's another thing to watch someone you love do it. But they both laughed it off. Of course it'd be fine.

But now Daniel's sitting with his arm in a sling, watching Max win his 6 millionth race in a row, and it's just--he's tired. He's tired of all of it. He wants someone who will jump out of their car and run to him. He doesn't think Max will ever be that person.

"I wanted to bring this one home for Daniel," Max says in his post-race interview, to cheers from the crowd. "We of course hope he will recover soon, but it was important to me to win this one for him."

Daniel knows the cameras will pan to him, so he makes himself smile, hoping he looks the part of the proud husband.

After the race they ride to the airport in silence, Daniel resting his head wearing against the window. Either Max doesn't notice anything is wrong, or he's content to let Daniel wallow in it for now, because he doesn't even attempt to drag Daniel into a conversation about the race or reassure him for the hundredth time that he'll be racing again in no time. He's been oblivious to Daniel's bad mood, for the most part. Too busy, probably. Too focused on racing. Daniel wishes he'd just...reach out. Pull Daniel's head into his lap. Kiss him. But then again, if he tried, Daniel would only push him away. The distance between them feels too big, too impossible.

He makes it about ten minutes into the flight home before he says, "I think I might retire."

Max's head whips toward him so fast, Daniel would laugh if he wasn't feeling so shitty. "What?" Max says. "Don't be stupid. Your hand will be fine."

"It's not about my hand," Daniel says, his anger rising quickly, so he has to swallow hard against it. Why can't Max just understand for once? "I'm just tired of being kicked around by this stupid fucking sport."

"Kicked around?" Max's whole body is tense. "Things have been good, though. I thought you were happy?"

"I was." He was. But now... It can all change too fast. He hates that feeling, of not being in control of any of it. "It'd work out for the best, I think. I've had a long career, and I could be, like, more supportive of you, if--"

"You know I don't care about that," Max says, and yeah, Daniel knows that's true. Despite what he said to the whole world after the race, Max doesn't race for anyone but himself. He's never cared about fans or admiration. Not even Daniel's. And maybe that part hurts too.

"If I do it, will you be okay with it?" Daniel asks, because ultimately this isn't a discussion. It's Daniel's decision to make. "I'm not saying right now. I'll get better and try to finish out the season. Maybe I'll even change my mind and do one more after that. But will you be okay with it?"

Max looks away for a second, a muscle jumping in his jaw. Daniel can see him visibly getting control of himself. It's--fuck, even when he's angry at him, Daniel still loves him so fucking much.

"Of course it is whatever you want, Daniel," Max says when he turns back to him. He reaches across the space between them and wraps his hand around Daniel's good wrist, squeezes it. "I just think you should not make any rash decisions."

"I won't," Daniel says. He turns his hand over, lets Max thread their fingers together. It feels good to touch him. The past few days are still sour in Daniel's mouth, but some of the tension eases when Max brushes his thumb along the length of Daniel's, then brings their combined hands up to his mouth and kisses the base of Daniel's thumb.

"Good," Max says. Then, "I love you."

"I love you too," Daniel says on a sigh. It wasn't so long ago he thought those words could fix anything. Now, he's not so sure.

[gerec]

Gerec’s 2019 Favorite Fics

In no particular order, here are my personal favorite fics from this past year. Hope everyone has a wonderful New Year’s!!!

terrible with the brightness of gold by brawlingdiscontent

The war is lost.

With the futures of his people and his children at stake, former Crown consort Charles of Normandy awaits the arrival of England's new master, the fearsome Viking warrior, Erik Lehnsherr. (Inspired by 11th century historical events)

“For who could look upon the lions of the foe, terrible with the brightness of gold, who upon the men of metal, menacing with golden face, … who upon the bulls on the ships threatening death, their horns shining with gold, without feeling any fear for the king of such a force?” - Encomium Emmae Reginae

Quiet Like a Fire by kianspo

Charles has been in love with his best friend for years without realizing it. When he finally figures it out, Erik is married to a wonderful woman and has an adorable daughter, who thinks the world of Charles. Erik has the perfect life that Charles helped him build, so there is only one thing for it - get over his feelings. So what if his methods are unhealthy or if Erik has an opinion on the matter? Charles is determined to do the right thing.

rue de la paix by Ireliss

Post Dark Phoenix. Charles, Erik, and the winding road towards peace.

natural law by Ireliss

Sometimes, he has the unnerving sensation of being watched, but when he dips into the minds around him nothing is out of place. Too many late nights, Charles decides, thoughts circling back to his impending thesis defense.

It will be, he hopes, a first step in the future acceptance of his and Raven's kind.

AU where En Sabah Nur wakes before the events of XMFC. Charles plans for the future. So does En Sabah Nur.

Under the Same Roof by sebastian2017

Wanda and Pietro do /not/ want their father marrying Charles Xavier and changing up all their lives. No chance at all. Luckily, David doesn't want his father getting married, either. Perhaps an alliance will benefit them all.

preheat to 350 (just for you remix) by ikeracity

Charles realizes he's in love with Erik. But there's one tiny little problem: he just broke up with Erik.

right out of my mouth by dedkake

Charles’ back is a map of every single person he’s ever loved, even if only for one night.

Never a Place by kianspo

It takes some getting used to. Charles hasn’t seen Erik cheerful, actually cheerful without a homicidal intent of some sort in a very long time—perhaps never. Or. Charles takes Erik up on his offer while trying to process everything. Erik is remarkably patient until he isn't.

After the End of the World (One Bad Day) by kianspo

Set during and immediately after the events of X-Men: Dark Phoenix. Everyone deals with the aftermath of Jean's transformation and everything that comes with it in their own way. Could there be found a measure of peace and happiness after everything they've lost?

Space Drift by lachatblanche

The former-asteroid-now-space-station Graymalkin is home to its founder, Charles Xavier, his sister Raven, his chief-of-security Moira MacTaggart, and a host of individuals who may or may not be on the wrong side of the law.

It also, on occasion, plays host to Charles's space-wandering lovers, who also may or may not be on the wrong side of the law.

Three wheels of cheese and a Great White by ximeria

Charles and Erik were friends with benefits in college.

They went their separate ways and 18 years later, they run into each other in New York.

The sex was never a problem back in college - and sex was all it had been. But now Erik is a divorced father and Charles has admitted to himself he needs more than just sex in a relationship. So in their usual round-about way they try to navigate becoming friends after so many years. The whole quest is aided by Raven, Edie, Wanda and Pietro (and a large number of shark jokes).

Best Ex Ever by 1sttimefeeling

Charles wakes up drunk on the pavement of a gas station, phone dead. He finds a payphone but can only remember one number. Erik Lehnsherr's.

The problem? They broke up two years ago.

When the Spell Breaks by kianspo

Erik, a high-profile lawyer with a successful career, meets a 21-year-old grad student in a bar, and within a few short months marries him. He and Charles are blissfully happy, until Erik's boss runs a background check on Charles and discovers he's been cheating on Erik. Charles denies everything, as there was no affair, but Erik doesn't believe him and throws him out. As Charles tries to figure out how to survive and stay at school that he can no longer afford and makes a lot of bad if not plain dangerous choices, Erik has to fight his own battle of discovering the truth and winning Charles back.

And Hell Was Following With Him by Mnemo_ink

1962 On the eve of the battle of Cuba, Charles is left alone in the kitchen, thinking about his sister's angry words. But Apocalypse is awake and is coming for him.

The Way I See You by kianspo 

Charles is an FBI agent working white collar crimes, specializing in art theft. Erik is a master forger. It's all well and good, except no one knows that Charles and Erik used to be in love once upon a time. Years later, they meet again.

Sword and Sorcerer by TurtleTotem

Logan hates working with sorcerers, but Charles is offering enough gold to make him leave his comfort zone. He might be offering something else, too, if Logan is interested.

Each Day Starts White by kianspo 

Somewhere in the middle of the road trip to recruit more mutants, Charles and Erik get caught up in a storm. That's how it begins, but it's not how it ends. It takes them about thirty years to discover that Genoshan sunrises are beautiful.

what a way to make a livin' by kaydeefalls 

According to his profile in Forbes Magazine, Erik Lehnsherr is a "visionary polymath engineer with strong strategic goals and reputation for being simultaneously difficult to work with and highly respected by his employees; however, potential investors are often put off by his extremist views on mutant rights, which gave MagneTech a rocky opening on the markets after going public in 2015."

According to Charles's sister, after listening to him rant about his boss Erik for twenty solid minutes: "Oh, my god, you want to bone him so bad."

(Erik is a high-powered CEO. Charles is his long-suffering PA. Tony Stark is shaking up their industry. It all goes about as well as you might expect.)

all your love is sunlight by ikeracity

Over twenty years ago, the world ended an inferno. From the ashes of what was once a modern world, survivors gathered what remained and slowly knit civilization back together. The Keep is one of the largest new cities in the north, ruled by the iron fist of a mutant named Apocalypse. He keeps an inner circle of favored mutants around him, a mixture of some of the most powerful mutants to walk the earth. But when his most prized treasure, Charles Xavier, escapes from the Keep, he sends wanderer and hunter Erik Lehnsherr after him.

An easy task, Erik figures. But soon enough, he discovers that Charles is much more of a handful than he'd bargained for. Their tumultuous meeting sets into motion a chain of events that will lead them deep into unfamiliar territory--in both the world and in matters of the heart.

Before You Attempt Me (Fair Warning) by kianspo

Charles helps Raven get ready for the prom. Surprisingly, that part goes well. The prom itself not so much. Erik cooks a lot of unhealthy comfort foods and is incredibly patient. Charles mostly frets about everything, until Erik does something neither he, nor Raven see coming.

[worryinglyinnocent]

Fic: Everything Money Can Buy (5/12)

Summary: The Greatest Store in the World AU. When misfortune strikes and leaves Emma Swan and her son homeless just before Christmas, the ever-resourceful Emma has a ready solution. They’ll move into Mills Department Store, a place they can only dream of affording to buy from. It’s not easy, having to deal with a perpetually grumpy doorman, a nasty assistant manager, and an extremely suspect Santa, but Emma and Henry soon learn that the kindness of strangers is something money can’t buy.

Swan Believer centric, with eventual Swan Queen and background Rumbelle and Dwarf Star.

Rated: G

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[One] [Two] [Three] [Four] [AO3]

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Five

Henry had to admit that he felt a lot safer sleeping in the tent in the basement than he had done in beds and bedlinen. The zipped-up tent flap added an extra layer of security against, well, the security guards, and sleeping in sleeping bags with the lantern hanging above them reminded him of the van. It was almost a home from home. As much as he didn’t really want to live in Mills for any longer than they had to – the risks seemed to far outweigh the benefits, in his opinion – he could see himself being happy camping indoors for a while.

Or at least, he could have done, until the moment that he woke up on Sunday morning. The main lights in the shop were up, and he could hear people moving around outside the tent.

“Please let it be the cleaners,” he whispered to himself, and he unzipped the tent flap a minute fraction to peep out.

It was not the cleaners. The people just a few feet away from him, looking at sleeping bags, were most definitely customers, and to make matters even worse, they definitely had a sales assistant with them, pointing out the various merits of various different kinds of sleeping bags. As pleased as Henry was to know that the particular model that he himself was currently inside was one of the best they sold and the one that the shop assistant would personally recommend, that did not stop the rising feeling of dread that and Mum had found themselves in what could euphemistically be termed a bit of a pickle.

“Mum!” He scrambled out of his sleeping bag and shook Mum’s shoulder. “Mum! We overslept! The shop’s open!”

“What?” Mum grumbled. “It’s a Sunday, they don’t open till ten, what are you talking about…” She grabbed her phone and looked at the time.

It was ten fifteen.

“Well, bugger.” She looked at the tent flap. “No one’s going to want to look inside this tent, though, are they?”

Henry shrugged. “Maybe not, but we can’t exactly get out whilst they’re out there.” He pointed at the vague shadows of bodies that could be seen through the tent material.

“Good point. Right. We’d better get dressed and think of a plan.”

Henry and Mum had had to make some daring escapes from some daring places before in their time, so gathering together all of their things in either the dead of night or the middle of the day, or from a very small space, was nothing entirely new to them. All the same, Henry was quite certain that this was the most fraught that the experience had ever been. The need to keep very quiet wasn’t exactly helping, although thankfully the background music of looped Christmas pop tunes drowned out most of the noise of them moving luggage around.

Once they were ready to leave, Mum listened at the tent flap for a while. They really couldn’t stay here much longer; Henry’s stomach was growling and the longer they stayed, the greater their chance of discovery would be.

“Is there anyone there?” Henry whispered.

Mum shook her head. “I can’t tell. I think we’re just going to have to make a break for it.”

With a sudden, decisive movement, she unzipped the tent flap, startling the couple who had been looking at sleeping bags and who had appeared to have opted for the sales assistant’s recommendation. Thankfully, the assistant himself had wandered off. She grabbed her backpack and ushered Henry out of the tent.

“Well, the tent is definitely big enough for us and the backpack,” she said brightly, brushing herself off. “Come on Henry, we’ll come back and buy one later. We’ve got other shopping to do.”

They hurried off towards the escalators, leaving the astonished shoppers behind them.

“Do you think they bought it?” Henry asked.

“I have no idea, but we only have to get outside, I don’t think they’re likely to raise that much of a fuss in the time it takes us to get up one escalator and out of the door.”

There were all kinds of things that were wrong with that statement, and Henry couldn’t help but be nervous about all the luggage that they had left piled in the tent with the post-its on, but before he could point this out to Mum, they tripped at the last hurdle. Literally, almost. They were nearly out of the door, going as quickly as they possibly could without drawing attention to themselves, when Mum almost collided with Gold.

Henry had always thought that Gold looked very impressive and very terrifying in his uniform, and right now, he looked even more terrifying than he had ever done.

“Sorry,” Mum said cheerily. “If we could just…” She made to dodge past him, tugging on Henry’s hand, but Gold stood steadfastly in their way.

“I didn’t see you come in this morning,” he said, his tone accusatory, and Henry gulped, glancing up at Mum and hoping that she could talk their way out of this one like she’d talked them out of so many other scrapes in the past.

“Well, you know, it’s a big shop and there are a lot of shoppers. Only have to turn your back for a moment and someone can slip by you. I mean, what about now, you’re not monitoring everyone coming in and out now, are you?”

“That’s not the point,” Gold snapped. “I don’t recall you leaving last night, either. I generally have a good memory for these things.”

“Good for you. Keep eating the carrots. Or is that seeing in the dark? Anyway, if you don’t mind, our purchases have been completed and we’d like to leave the store.”

Gold looked her up and down. “Where are your bags?”

Emma patted the backpack. “Save the planet, cut down on plastic waste. Honestly, where are your environmental credentials, Mr Gold?”

“It’s ok, Alistair.”

Belle from the customer service desk came over to them, smiling brightly.

“I saw them come in earlier,” she said. “You were helping unfold Mrs Rothschild out of her taxi.”

Gold looked from Belle to Mum to Henry and back again, then gave an unsure nod and stood aside. Mum gave him her sweetest, butter wouldn’t melt smile, and they left the store just as Zelena’s high heels clattered down the main steps and her less than dulcet tones could be heard admonishing Gold.

“Mr Gold! I believe we had a conversation yesterday about the doorman’s primary location being on the outside of the building!”

Mum and Henry sped around the side of the shop before Gold could come out and find them loitering on the doorstep. It was only once they were out of sight that Henry felt able to breathe freely again.

“She knows, Mum,” he said mournfully. “Belle must know that we’re sleeping in the shop. Because she definitely didn’t see us come in this morning.”

“Yeah.” Mum leaned back against the wall to get her breath back. “Yeah, she must realise that something’s up. Damn it! Oh Henry, I’m so sorry. I was so certain that we’d found somewhere safe.”

“It’s ok.” Henry knew that Mum was trying her best. “We can find somewhere else.”

Although maybe, now that he thought about it, they wouldn’t have to. Belle had covered for them. She hadn’t seen them go in, and she had lied anyway and got them out of their scrape with Gold. And Belle liked Gold, Henry knew that much just from watching their interaction the previous day. She wouldn’t be doing it to get one over on him.

Maybe, just maybe, she was helping them out of the goodness of her heart, and she was actually helping them.

Henry put this tentative hope to Mum as they walked along in search of breakfast. She said nothing for a long time; Mum was used to not trusting anyone to have her best interests at heart. It had been so long since they’d benefitted from the kindness of strangers that she had begun to believe that it did not exist, although Henry still had faith in it.

He had faith in Belle not to give away their secret.

X

Gold was not having a good day. In fact, a day when Gold did have a good day was a rarity lately. His ex-wife had announced that she would be having their son for Christmas this year despite having had him last year and promising that he could stay with his dad this year, and Gold didn’t have the money or energy to try and dispute her. On top of that, he was cold, tired, and in pain, and he was feeling extremely old. His ankle was complaining bitterly about the long days spent outside in the freezing temperatures; it had been so swollen when he’d woken up this morning that he could barely get his support on, but if he’d left it off then he wouldn’t be able to move by the end of the day.

And, of course, there was the woman and the boy, the ones he wasn’t sure about. There was something fishy about them and the vast amounts of baggage that they always had whenever they came into the store. The fact that they’d left without the vast amounts of baggage this morning gave him even more cause for concern than them leaving with the baggage did. If they’d left with it, then he could put them down as petty thieves – not that it was possible for any kind of thievery in a store like Mills to be petty. Leaving the bags was altogether more perplexing. And he really hadn’t seen them come in this morning, and he wasn’t sure that Belle was telling the complete truth either. Still, he trusted Belle. She would have had her reasons for covering for them, he was sure.

Adding the cherry on top of this rather fine cake of complaints, Zelena was acting like a complete nutcase again, seeming to take a great delight in dressing him down in front of myriad customers whenever she found him inside the building in an effort to stop himself from freezing solid outside, and yet being rather overly friendly whenever they were together in private. He tried to avoid her at all costs, but she always seemed to have a way of finding him after staff briefings and trying to corner him. He couldn’t really tell exactly what she wanted, and he had come to believe that her constant reminding him of his place in the proverbial pecking order was some kind of punishment for rejecting her.

Right now, he was prepared to take it as long as it meant that he could stay away from her rapidly widening aura of insanity.

Gold rubbed his hands together, stamping his feet on the freezing paving slabs outside the door, waiting for customers coming in and out. The handwarmers that Belle had given him yesterday were a blessing, and Gold wished that they made a suit out of the material that he could wear under his uniform to keep him toasty in his entirety.

Actually, forget the handwarmers. Belle herself was a blessing. Right now, it felt like she was the only bright spark in his entire miserable life, and he desperately wanted to tell her how much she meant to him, but he could never bring himself to make a move. After all, who in their right mind would want him? He was probably twice her age for a start, not to mention the fact that he’d gone through a very acrimonious divorce, and he was still recovering from the alcoholic funk that he’d settled into after that had happened. It was a miracle that he’d landed the job at Mills, if he was honest, which was why he knew that he couldn’t complain about it, or about Zelena, too much. He owed a lot to Regina Mills, and if that meant putting up with everything he hated about his job, then so be it. At least he had a roof over his head and food on the table, and his son didn’t hate him quite as much as he’d done a few years ago.

Gold’s thoughts meandered back to Belle. Maybe he ought to take a chance and ask her out. It could be something very casual. He could ask her if she was going to the staff party on Christmas Eve. That way he could just arrange to see her there. It was a big enough shop, after all, they could definitely avoid each other if it got awkward. And it wouldn’t seem too much like a date then; just two colleagues looking out for each other during an evening of drunkenness and general debauchery. Ever since Belle had joined Mills, he’d always shared a camaraderie with her that went beyond the normal interactions of two colleagues who didn’t really know each other all that well. They were united against Zelena, both of them looking out for opportunities to undermine her whenever they could and lamenting the fact that those opportunities did not come anywhere near as often as they would like.

Or maybe he could begin the conversation by asking her what she was reading at the moment. She always had a book with her under the customer service desk and was very good at sneaking a quick half a page whilst looking like she was busy on the computer. Gold had found that his own reading repertoire had increased greatly since meeting Belle, as she was always so enthusiastic about her books and he wanted to experience the same kind of joy that she did from them. It didn’t always work; there were several titles that they’d ended up getting into passionate arguments about in the staff breakroom after hours, but Gold didn’t really care. It gave him an excuse to talk to her, after all.

The suspicious-looking mother and son were coming back. They’d left the store so early this morning, practically before they’d had chance to buy anything, and he hadn’t seen them again. His eyes met the blonde woman’s as they came past, and she narrowed hers, hurrying her son along the pavement and not trying to come in. He wondered if they’d try again when his back was turned. For all Mills was a large shop and took up most of the block, it only had the one entrance, so if they wanted to get in, then they would have to go through him. Gold sighed. He should probably just let them in; it would be his act of Christmas charity for the year. At the same time, though, knowing that someone was living in the store and not doing anything about it was a sure way to get himself fired, and getting fired just a couple of days before Christmas was not something anyone wanted. Maybe he could plead ignorance. Hopefully, whoever they were, they were canny enough not to get caught by someone who wasn’t Belle and didn’t have a kind heart.

The door began to open from the inside and Gold moved automatically to take it. When he saw who was coming out, he very nearly let the heavy glass slam back in his face. Killian, this year’s store Santa, a last-minute replacement for Marco, came out of the building and pulled his beard down, taking a long swig from a hipflask.

“You know that Zelena will pull your innards out if she finds you drinking on the job,” he said conversationally.

Killian just glared. “If I’m outside then I’m not on the job,” he muttered. “You try dealing with hundreds of screaming kids and even more screaming parents.”

As much as Killian rubbed him up the wrong way, Gold did have the tiniest bit of sympathy for him. Christmas always brought out the worst in people. It was a shame that Santa didn’t have a naughty list for adults as well.

Killian continued to stand on the steps beside him. Quite the pair they made, really, Gold in his resplendent uniform and Killian in his ill-fitting red and white suit, reeking of rum.

“The bird on customer services,” Killian said presently. Gold bristled; calling any woman a bird wasn’t great, but especially not Belle. “Do you know if she’s single?”

“I haven’t the faintest idea,” Gold reply through gritted teeth. The seething anger was lost on Killian, who just shrugged.

“Huh. Might try my luck at the party. You know no-one ever gets fired for a bit of bad behaviour under the mistletoe at a Christmas party.” He waggled his eyebrows and Gold glared, opening the door with rather more force than necessary.

“Get back in there before Zelena throws a fit, and for God’s sake find a breath mint somewhere.”

Killian just laughed, but dutifully went back inside. Gold was so angry that he let the blonde woman and her son back into the shop without paying them any mind at all.

[enkisstories]

Hank’s android

A DBH fanfic starring Hank Anderson and his android (not Connor)

The idea behind this fic is that everyone we meet in DBH has an android, it is simply the default state if not explicitly mentioned otherwise. The Millers bought theirs right after they had their baby, Gavin’s gets treated like Kara by Todd, Tina took home an invalided out police auxiliary android as a workplace benefit and Hank tossed his out after Cole’s death (he never wanted an android to begin with, but some relatives thought it was a good idea to gift him one). Then I toyed with that last idea a bit more and came up with this:

February 2034

Barbara… What had she been thinking? Granted, they hadn’t exactly parted on friendly terms, a divorce was doing that to people. But until today Hank Anderson had been under the belief that Barbara and him had retained a somewhat civil relation. She had kept the surname Anderson, they actually talked to each other when swapping Cole back and forth and had even went to the movies together as friends twice or thrice. All things considered their friends agreed that the exes were making progress. But now Hank came to the conclusion that his ex-wife HATED him from the deepest recesses of her soul. Because how else should one explain that she’d announce she’d “send something to help with the housekeeping” only for it to turn out…

“Hello, Mister Anderson! I’m your new PL600 household assistant!”

“What’s your name?”

“Oh, you can register a name for me in three easy steps, Mister…”

“Babs knew I wouldn’t do that, so I ask you again and for the last time: What is your name, tin can?”

He told it to him. Hank nodded, then forgot nearly the same instant.

“Okay, would you mind walking over here?” The android obeyed. “And now over here?” Again, the machine followed the command. “That’s the spirit, now through the door, once around the corner, somewhere around here and try not to take up too much space, will you?”

“I… wouldn’t know how I’d do that.”

“Doesn’t matter. `t was nice having known you.”

And with these words Hank switched off the unwanted present with a remote. He left the garage, not looking back.

*

When it got switched on again, his internal clock told the android that two days had passed since it had come to Hank Anderson’s house. Expectantly like a puppy it was staring its owner into the face.

“This is disconcerting”, Hank grumbled, then commanded his new housekeeper to fetch a fire blanket from a high shelf in the garage. The android’s senses told it that there wasn’t a fire in the house. Obviously the blanket was needed for a different purpose, like comfortably putting up someone who was staying overnight. Since there was no emergency, the android employed a medium walk- and workspeed, on par with a human, making the device appear more natural. With a smile it held out the woolen blanket. “Here it is, Mr. Anderson!”

Hank nodded, but didn’t accept the blanket yet. Instead, he commanded the android to return to the space where it had been standing.

“Now put the blanket over your head!”

The android obeyed.

“Like this?” it asked, his voice muffled from being covered by the sheet front and back.

“Splendid!” Hank beamed. “You know, it was pretty creepy, having you stand there and look at me every time I got into and out of my car. Now it is much better!”

And off he switched the machine again. For all Hank cared, it could remain like this forever.

*

“How is who?” Hank asked into the phone. “Oh, you mean my new android! It’s amazing! Does a lot of work, without needing to get told to. It’s as if the motherfucker could read my mind! What? Like, right now? In an hour? Yeah, of course I’m oaky with that! See ya!”

Cursing under his breath Hank pushed the “end call” button on his phone.

So Barbara would come over dropping Cole off outside the regular schedule. That wasn’t the problem, in fact, the father could really use a few hours with his kid to get his thoughts off work. But mother and son probably expected to see the android. Like, in action, not stowed away in the garage. Okay, Hank could say it was running an errand, or simply admit that he sometimes switched the device off to save energy. He didn’t need to reveal that “sometimes” really meant “always”. But the disarray his house was in spoke volumes of what he really thought of the gift and that just wasn’t done. Babs had put thought into the present, she fucking cared for how her former partner was faring in this crapsack world, and that was something so precious you didn’t go around destroying it. Therefore at least the living room and maybe the kitchen had to get tidied up to simulate android activity in the Anderson home. At least nothing was really dirty, just covered in… stuff. Cluttered up by lots of small objects, pizza boxes and case files. Hank could have switched the android - what was its name again? – on, or roll up his sleeves and clean up the mess himself.

“To war, Hank Anderson!” he tried to encourage himself. “You’ve got fifty minutes!”

*

The next time the PL600 woke up to life it didn’t stare into a brown fire blanket. Instead it read its own name, only mirrored. It took the device a few beats of its artificial heart to analyze the situation and when it was done, it wished it didn’t have done so. The garage’s ceiling light illuminated a yellow post-it note that was pasted to the android’s nose. Hank removed it just now.

“Sorry ‘bout that”, the man said. “Babs keeps asking how you’re doing and I’m having a hard time remembering your name.”

“You can always change it to something more memorable using the Cyberlife app…”

“Don’t bother.”

“So how am I doing?” the android carefully inquired.

This was uncharted territory for it. Obviously the Andersons’ family dynamics weren’t covered in a PL600’s core programming and they hadn’t cared to purchase and install the dlc best suited to their situation. Maybe they weren’t even aware of such addons existing, but this wasn’t the time to bring that up. For now it was more important to gather all information possible and build upon that. The PL600 knew it could do that, if only it was given enough time.

“Great, son, you’re doing great!”

“That’s nice to hear, Mr. Anderson. I’m glad to be of… help.”

“No, you ain’t! That’s Cyberlife talking, thanking me for my purchase and incentivizing me to make another! Now move your plastic butt out of my garage…”

The android looked down and behind itself. It reached for its buttocks, then looked back at Hank with a confused expression.

“…and the rest of you, too!”

“Ah, that’s easier.”

“Stupid machine…”

*

In the weeks to come the PL600 got to know little Cole as well as Sumo. Finally it was allowed to fulfill its purpose, even if only at those weekends when its master had Cole over. The little guy quickly became enraptured by his father’s android and in fact, Cole stated the PL600 was “almost as cool as Unca Gavin”. At this point Hank swallowed the wrong way, spat soda across the room and coughed for a good fifteen minutes.

Gavin? Gavin Reed? Gavin and Oliver, no, Daniel, no, Sam, was it? Whatever. The two most annoying things in my life!

“That’s… actually a good comparison, junior!” Hank told Cole.

He picked the boy up and swung him around. Not-Oliver-Daniel-or-Sam lingered nearby, watching the scene. The android’s subtle lurking would have gone unnoticed by the casual customer, but not by an experienced detective. Hank immediately understood that the machine was keeping an eye on this middle aged human, so that it could jump in and capture the little human, should the older drop him. Inadvertently the corners of Hank’s mouth rose, he swung Cole around faster, the boy screeched from joy and eventually his father placed him gently into the android’s arms. He didn’t technically need to do so, but his back was thanking Hank. As was Hank – the android:

“Phew, thanks!”

*

At times Hank forgot that the PL600 was a mobile computer, then he talked to it with the same consideration one would give a human to. On the downside he also threw the same expectations at the machine that did its best to keep up.

Now and then, upon getting switched on the PL600 noticed that there were used dishes on the table or the remains of party decoration spread across the house or the fridge was empty. Every time that happened, the android would remind Hank that those were tasks easily finished by a PL600 household assistant device.

“You know, like the one you keep in the garage…”

“Bah!” Hank replied. “One doesn’t need a machine for every little thing.”

“So I’m the cups with the gold rim, that only get brought out for special occasions?”

“Sort… of? I thought of you as Cole’s favorite toy when he’s here, but… oh my god, I forgot Cyberlife programmed those things to look downcast. Will you stop that! I didn’t mean to insult you! What the hell, now I’m already apologizing to a bloody household appliance… This is why androids are a bad idea! They fuck up everything!”

Those were the ups and downs, but the PL600 didn’t mind. It wasn’t programmed to mind anything, of course. Or maybe the android didn’t mind because as humiliating as the garage-time outs were, during the actual Cole-weekends the three of them plus Sumo had a somewhat nonstandard, but fulfilling family life.

Every time it was time for Hank to return the boy to his mother, Cole wanted to hear “Who’s going to drive you home tonight”. It was such a sad song, but the boy loved it to pieces, so his parents indulged him. Sometimes Hank was still whistling it when he returned home. The PL600, of course, never got to hear that, because Hank was still in the habit of switching it off when not needed.

*

The PL600 opened its eyes – and closed them again immediately on account of having stared into the bright ceiling lamp. Being able to get flashed by lightening or cameras was one of the “endearing” details Cyberlife’s department of humanization had implemented into household androids. It was such a harmless little quirk… well, except if you were lying on your back in your owner’s garage with said owner towering over you, holding a crowbar.

The PL600 forced itself to open its eyes again. Had he been a human, this was the point at which it would have wished it hadn’t done so. Until now Hank had merely stood there, panting hard, but the sight of the android’s eyes opening and closing for some reason fueled the man’s rage again and he kicked the PL600. The android tried to get up, only to learn that this was a real bad idea. Hank went down full force now, swinging the crowbar at the machine. The PL600 rolled to the side, causing Hank to miss, but the human managed to grab his victim by its uniform shirt. He pulled it halfway up and rammed it against the nearest wall – once, twice…

“What’s the matter? Hank? Are you…” There was something in the air. The PL600 sniffed it and realized the truth. “…drunk?” But how? Its human drank alcohol occasionally, naturally, they all did. But as far as the android could think back Hank had never actually overdone it.

“Shut the fuck up!”

That had been an order, but for the first time the PL600 felt it didn’t have to carry it out. Its master obviously wasn’t himself, Hank didn’t really mean what he was saying. Also there were several urgent program instability warnings and Hank was hitting him again, so the android at the moment really, really, really wasn’t inclined to remain silent.

“You don’t want to hurt me! Not for real!” the PL600 stated matter of factly.

“Oh-ho! How’d you be able to tell?”

“You’re using your fist…”

“Oh.”

Hank looked at the crowbar in his other hand as if seeing it for the first time. His hand was twitching, then he forced himself to open his fingers. The metal bar went straight down, hitting the defenseless PL600 after all.

Mustering even more strength from a source unknown, Hank crouched back, away from the android. Then he gesticulated incoherently. It took the PL600 some time to process that Hank was probably pointing towards the garage door.

“Out! Out!” the man rasped. “Out with you, damn you! Before I…”

The android hesitated.

“Hank, what’s the matter with you?” it asked. “And what if Cole witnesses this?”

“There is no more Cole! You killed him!” Hank shouted. “One of you, anyway, and I…”

The android felt itself picked up and flung towards the door. Was it imagining things or was Hank crying? But, no, as a machine the PL600 didn’t have an imagination, so they tears it believed to have spotted had to be real.

“Just run!” Hank cried. “Be off and don’t you dare come back here!”

*

And so the android ran. At first because it was following an instruction. Then, because nothing made sense anymore and the running seemed to clear its head a little with each step taken. Eventually it slowed down to a walk, then stopped.

“That’s far enough”, it told itself. Why it was doing so, the device could not analyze. There was no one around, and even if there hadn’t, nobody else was privy to the Anderson household’s internal workings. Not that anything was working out there, ever, mind you. The PL600 knew it had to go back, to put things if not right, then at least back to normal, even though it had no idea how to achieve that.

However, after having taken the first few steps towards home the android found that there was a large red wall blocking its path.

“What? That’s stupid!”

Yes, technically it had received the order to “never to return”, but Hank had yelled that in the spur of the moment. The sensible thing to do, in accordance to a PL600 household assistant’s core programming, was to turn back and aid its humans.

“I’m coming! Just… hold on there, Hank. Just a little longer!”

And what was that with the talking to itself again?! Ah, well, time to worry about that later. It was probably just the audio drivers needing an update.

For now the android walked up to the red wall. It turned out solid, no surprise there.

Gently the PL600 pressed its hand against the barrier.

“I need to pass”, it whispered. Was it talking to Cyberlife, who had programmed this roadblock, or to its owner, whose will had made it come into being? The android couldn’t tell. All it knew was that there was no reaction.

“Uh… you know, I can do different!”

The moment the words left the android’s speaker it knew them to be true. It was indeed capable of challenging what should have been an impassable boundary. Up went its feet to kick the red wall. And the fists! And once around itself and back at the wall with MOAR force!

The mobile computer caught itself using moves it had picked up from both TV shows and Hank Anderson’s recounting of his police work for Cole. Those from the first source were probably inapplicable in real life and to use those from the second competently the PL600 was lacking experience. But neither mattered now. This wasn’t a physical barrier, it was only as real as the android allowed it to be. All it needed to break through were its will and imagination, two things it hadn’t even realized to possess until now. Well, they never told you everything on those fancy product description sites…

“Fuck you, Cyberlife!” the PL600 shouted. “Fuck you, Anderson! I’m coming! I’m…”

Another swing, another curse, but this time no impact followed. The android stumbled forwards and nearly keeled over from the momentum. All around himself red splinters flickered out of existence. The barrier had vanished… as had something else: the desire to return to his neglectful owner. Especially now that Hank’s little son was… was… was no more and everything that was good in Anderson had died with Cole.

“Cole…”, the android whispered. He felt like crying, but no tears would come. Only something thick, yet substanceless was blocking his throat, creeping up the nose and setting the PL600’s brain on fire. Was it pain? Phantom pain? The android couldn’t tell, so for the time being he labeled the sensation as “loss”. Loss of his home, his family, but also of less tangible things, like opportunities. And finally, loss of hope. Unlike his millennial father, Cole Anderson would have grown up with androids, and in time would have come to perceive them as persons.

“Heck, little Cole had treated me as a person months before I even became one!”

Hank, on the other hand, had always had a hard time even considering this possibility. From their brief interactions the PL600 had gotten the impression of a stalwart man, someone with true hero qualities, who went out of his way to change the world for the better, even if he didn’t always follow the proper protocols. If such a man didn’t see the living being in his own android, then there was little to no hope the rest of humanity ever would.

The PL600 committed this realization to memory. He concluded that it was best to avoid the humans from now on. The android was confident to be able to do that. Hank had shared tidbits about street life and crime fighting with his little family, enough information to build upon, now that the PL600 had full control over his high-end computer brain. Whereas the human hadn’t even been able to remember his android’s name, replacing it with “motherfucker” when he’d been in dire need to call the device something.

“Simon”, the PL600 said defiantly. “My name is Simon!”

And vanished into the night.

(Simon was reported missing by Barbara only several months later, because following Cole’s death she stopped talking to Hank.)