Deviant Behavior (Connor x Reader)

Manual Operation

November 8th, 2038
AM 01:45:05

The best part about starting your drinking session early is that you had plenty of time to sober up before bar close.  It was an art you'd mastered – a careful algorithm that kept your career, and your dignity, safe.  Sure, there'd been some hazy trips to the bathroom.  Or conversations that you might have had.  Strangers may have talked to you.

The in-betweens weren't usually what mattered.

But you'd overdone it a bit.  You'd drank in Jimmy's company nearly all night long during the breaks of his order-taking; because, according to him, you needed someone to talk to that wasn't a cop, or close to the situation.  An outside perspective.

He was the typical bartender that knew the city's darkest secrets while guests paid for truth serum that came in all shapes, colors, and sizes.

You were no different from them.

You latched on to a glass of water.  The straw slipped through your teeth, jaw numb and your eyes dried.

"You're not a 'bad cop.'" Jimmy had his back to you, shutting down the drink station.

It was almost closing time.  There was only you, him, and a guy way drunker than you in the corner.

"But I got-" You hiccuped your friend's name, "Killed.  I don't wanna get Miller killed too."

"What happened there wasn't your fault, alright?" He huffed, "Androids always find a way to mess things up...'Daniel,' was no exception."

"Not...Not Connor-" Your face slid down your palm, "He doesn't-"

"Hate to break it to you, but Sherlock is part of the problem."

"Nu-uh-"

He took a drag of his cigarette, sitting down across from you, "Lemme ask you somethin.' why do you think I don't allow androids in this place?"

"'Cause you hate fun."

He said your last name, "I own a bar.  You're way off."

You blinked, "Maybe..."

"You see all these people, coming in here and just trying to get their mind off life...Truth is, most of them lost their jobs.  Know why? Androids took 'em.  And I've got nothing against them.  But it's my job to keep my customers happy.  They don't appreciate having to sell their houses because CyberLife pumped out a new line of...I don't know – dockworkers, and put them out on their asses.  Humans just weren't ready for androids.  We saw new, shiny toys, and brought them to life without a game plan."  He snapped his fingers, "Take Detective Reed, for example."

You cringed, "Yuck..."

"Hear me out," He puffed smoke in the air, "You can say what you want about the guy, but he's a Detective.  He earned that promotion.  Pretty damn good at his job, too, from what Hank tells me.  So, how is it fair, that...What did you say his name was?"

"Con-"

"Right, Connor.  How is it fair that Connor gets to stroll in and just stomp on all that college, career-advancement, training?"

"Ugghh-"

"Really, though.  Think about it for a second.  Put all your biased bullshit aside. Think."

"I have thought about it!" You slurred, "I saw the first goddamn android prototype-"

"Huh?" His interest peaked.

Your neck snaked back, "What?"

"You just said-"

You played back the conversation, your eyes glazing over, "I meant-"