You heard as one of the detectives rambled on - words spilling from his lips faster than they could go through your ears and flood into your brain. You squinted your eyes, trying to control your facial expressions so it didn't look like you were dumbfounded.

You were trying to get his computer password, for more or less words. Connor, the prototype of the RK800 Android that seemed to be extremely well-versed in detective work, had concluded that -yes- this detective wasn't what you thought he was.

As the detective went on in a winded fashion, you could see Connor roll up slightly in the chair behind him. You watched him blink – once, then twice, as his shoulders hunched forward.

What the fuck was he doing?

“Detective! In here, now!” Fowler's voice had carried from his blind-clad office, calling him forth. The Detective rigidly stood up straight and centered, padding over to the office. You groaned, squinting your eyes at Connor as you rolled your chair to where your knees were touching.

“Connor, what are you doing? You’re supposed to be scanning his desk, trying to get more clues on what his password is…!

A silence followed as the LED plastered on his forehead blinked once as yellow, then faded back into the gradient of blue.

“Lieutenant, I was trying to wink,” he whispered, sitting back up poised and straight once more. Was his code scrambled? Did he get hurt from the last mission?

You stare, your face now finding a reason to look absolutely dumbfounded.