The house was way cozier than before. Some old records playing soft jazz in the background. Hank found his place less lonely now with Connor having basically moved in. He couldn’t leave the android on the streets, especially after deviating the boy had where to go. Connor was still getting used to so many things, but Hank was glad to be there for him.

Hank watched Connor move with his usual precision through the kitchen although it was far more casual now, setting two mugs of coffee on the counter, one black for Hank, the other some heated thirium. Connor had discovered, to his mild surprise, that he enjoyed the ritual of making coffee with Hank, even if he didn’t need it to function.

Hank sat in the living room. He was sprawled on the couch, Sumo curled at his feet, the dog’s tail thumping lazily against the carpet.

“Your coffee Lieutenant,” Connor said, stepping into the room and setting Hank’s mug on the coffee table. He smiled for a moment, before grabbing his own mug, his LED a steady blue. “I’ve insured that the coffee is at an optimal temperature before serving it.”

Hank snorted, grabbing the mug and taking a sip. “You don’t have to fuss over every little thing, you know. It’s not like I’m keeping score.”