“Your heartbeat is elevated 23% more than when we first arrived,” Connor murmured, flicking the quarter in his detailed fingers back and forth. “You’ve been moving more often. Your body suggests you’re stressed and—“

Without much thinking to the surroundings around you, you slammed on the brake as you skirted into an empty parking lot.

“…Lieutenant?” He hummed, the quarter still wedged between his artificial fingers. Somehow, through your swerving, he had caught the quarter. He was just perfect, the stupid android sent by Cyberlife. It pissed you off.

You didn’t respond, just gripping the steering wheel as you shut your eyes tightly and leaned on it. He took the hint, finally, and closed his thin lips tightly.

He glanced away from you, not sure if it would offend you if you caught him looking. Then, with a quick glance, he noticed you weren’t looking at him.

He took that as a sign, stealthily scanning over your body as you hunched over the steering wheel. Elevated heart rate — showing signs of extreme stress from the investigation today. Hands tense, gripping the steering wheel tightly. Breathing labored and short. Cortisol is spiking.

[Scan: 64% finished…]

His blue LED light, plastered to the side of his forehead, stayed light steadily as he watched over you. All of a sudden, your head snapped up, staring at him with a stern glare.

He turned his head back, his expression motionless. You could feel his tenseness slightly, seeing as he was scanning you while you weren’t paying attention.

“…I apologize, Lieutenant.” He said.