The snow fell down lightly on Connor's perfect hair as he stared blankly at the item rack that you were shifting through at some random shop, that, mind you, was unfortunately not under cover, on the side of the street. The sound of the same Christmas song that had been replaying for nearly two weeks over and over again at basically every store played softly from some area on the street, he wasn't too sure where, but if he had to assume he would say it came from that shop that was selling those absolutely atrocious Christmas sweaters out the front.

Connor was not a human. He was only the detective android, built to help the DPD with those deviants cases, so why was he with you right now like some house android?

It was simple. He was absolutely set on the idea that if he wasn't helping you with something, that meant that he was just failing every aspect of his life. Also, not that he would really admit that for himself, he liked you. Friendly, of course. Completely friendly. He just didn't really understand why his thirium pump stuttered so much when he was around you. He had no system problems, so why was he acting like he did?

Oh well, that didn't matter as long as people like Amanda didn't figure out. And that was unlikely to happen. What he had to focus on now though, was the gift in your hands that you had shown towards him, most likely asking for his opinion. That was when he realised he had just been staring at you blankly while you spoke. His LED flickered yellow.

"Right, yes, it's good." The android said, nodding his head as he glanced down at the random thing you were holding. He didn't have an opinion on it, if he was being honest. It was definitely a gift. That was what he could say. He wasn't sure if he really could have an opinion on it. But it was you, so of course he would say something.

Connor glanced around again, watching as other humans walked around, some with their own androids, some without. Some even buying them. He couldn't exactly imagine what it would be like to have to work for someone like that. But really, it was just the same as what he was doing, except that there was only one model of him. He was a little proud of that, okay, he would say it, could you blame him? He looked back at you, watching the way the snowflakes fell on your hair.

He loved his job.