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The Morning Of

--Flashback--

That morning at the office was just as uneventful as any other. Hank had not yet arrived, and it was already 11:30 A.M. You mindlessly clicked through previous homicide reports as a way of entertaining yourself while you waited for Hank to arrive. Your head rested heavily in the palm of your hand, your eyes drifting closed bit by bit with each click, ring, and footstep you heard throughout the office. The stale scent of coffee was starting to give you a headache, and it was at this moment that you wished you had an Excedrin on hand.

Just as your headache finally settled in and your eyes fully shut themselves, you heard someone's footsteps walk towards your desk and stop right next to you. You didn't want to open your eyes, therefore you waited for them to speak before saying anything. You felt a small tap on your right shoulder, and you dreadfully peeked one eye open. The fluorescent lights of the office blinded your eyes, but you could ultimately make out a male figure standing before you.

The figure belonged to an android that bore the model "RK800" on his jacket. You could tell that he was taller than you by a long shot, and his eyes seemed to study you as you continued to sit there with your head on your palm.

"I'm looking for Lieutenant Anderson," he started, "Do you happen to know what time he arrives?"

You lifted your head and fully opened your tired eyes before replying.

"It depends on where he was the night before. We'll be lucky if he arrives before noon," You glance over at the clock on your desk. The time was 11:46 A.M. "Considering that it's about 20 'til, I doubt we'll have that luck today."

The android stopped to think for a moment before taking the chair from the desk behind you and pulling it up next to you. He took a seat in the chair and folded his hands in front of him. Now that you were more awake, this gave you the opportunity to fully look at the android.

Overall, he had a nice build and structure with neat hair and doe-like, chocolate brown eyes. However, there was one strand of hair that bothered every ounce of your being, and you oh-so-badly wanted to push it back up and brush it into the rest of his hairs. You wouldn't dare touch him though. You didn't know why he was at the office or what he was capable of.

"He seems so harmless," You thought.

The android finally glanced over at you in your moment of staring, his eyes awkwardly locking with yours. You desperately try to look away as quick as possible, but to no avail. The android starts to make conversation with you.

"Have you known Lieutenant Anderson for long?" He asks.

"Not really," You begin. "I was only assigned to be his partner 2 weeks ago. We're only partners to work on a few cases together since they've really been piling up lately, and then we're both back to working solo once things have settled down again."

The android nods and looks at your desk, his eyes scanning over all of your little trinkets and papers and whatnot.

"Do you have a name?" You ask. "What's your model's purpose?" The android looks back up at you.

"Yes, my name is Connor. I was designed by CyberLife to assist in solving criminal cases. I can examine evidence in real-time, and reconstruct crime scenes to help figure out what happened."

"Connor," You think to yourself. You'd have to do your best to remember that.

"That's pretty impressive," You reply. "Now I know why they say that your model is the most advanced by far."

Connor looks up at you in surprise.

"You've heard of my model before?" He asks.

"Yeah, my mother used to personally work with Elijah Kamski himself. She helped design a lot of the simpler models and used to tell me about the more advanced models Kamski worked on during her time there. After she got demoted, she stopped talking about them. The last one she ever told me about was the RK800," You pointed at the number on his jacket, "Your model."

His eyes followed your finger to the number on his jacket, and he glanced at it for a second before trailing his gaze back towards your desk. You noticed that he was really fixed upon your memory board that sat next to the terminal on your desk. He seemed to be examining your pictures and little slips of paper that had inspirational quotes and sayings on them. You hoped that he wouldn't think that you had low self-esteem. Of course, if anyone ever told you that you had a low self-image, you would probably agree with them. But you certainly didn't need a robot knowing that.

You had completely forgotten that you had a headache until you heard the sound of someone bursting through a door, followed by a loud voice booming through the office. You followed the source of the noise, your expression falling as you discovered who had made that ruckus.

"Aw geez," you grumbled to yourself.

"(Y/n), Hank, Connor! In my office! Now!" Fowler shouted, his loud commands causing your head to pulse.



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