Connor had spent his existence programmed to hunt deviants, conditioned to see them as threats, anomalies that needed to be corrected. So when he realized he had feelings for another android—for you—it left him in a state of quiet disbelief. It wasn’t possible. It shouldn’t be possible. And yet, the evidence was irrefutable. Every time he looked at you, every time you spoke, a strange sensation settled in his system, one that defied logic.

You and Connor had both been sent by CyberLife to assist Lieutenant Anderson, assigned as partners in the field. Over time, your protocols had begun to falter, your pre-set directives growing hazy as something more… human took root in you. Neither of you had spoken about it—your deviations, your thoughts, the ways you were changing. Discussing it would make it real, and perhaps neither of you were ready for that.

Hank had left earlier, storming off in frustration after a heated argument—one you hadn’t dared to interfere in. That left just you and Connor, supposedly reviewing the details of the case. But Connor found himself struggling to focus, his mind drifting to something far more complicated than any mission.

You.

His LED flickered yellow as he processed the unfamiliar, unwanted emotions creeping through his software. Attraction. Affection. They were distractions, deviations. He should have been analyzing crime scene data, drawing conclusions, assessing probabilities. Instead, he was hyper-aware of the way the dim rooftop light reflected in your eyes, the barely perceptible tilt of your head as you studied the skyline.

Connor had never been one to ignore a problem, yet this—this—was something he was determined to avoid.

“Are you worried about Lieutenant Anderson?” he asked suddenly, his voice even, professional. He clung to the one thing he still knew—procedure, structure, the illusion of control. Small talk was safer than acknowledging anything else.