Connor was saved from having to actually form a reply to the deadpan declaration as the sound of someone approaching the table drew the gazes of both individuals sitting there to the newcomer. Jerry came forward, baring in one hand a large ceramic mug tinged light gray with little to speak of in terms of decoration or flourish and in the other a small saucer on which sat something that looked like a fruitcake had fucked Spongebob’s house. The man’s auburn locks fell slightly from where he had them combed neatly to the left as he placed the two items atop the counter and shot Conor an excited smile, emerald eyes lighting with joyous recognition.

“Inspector Awesome!” Jerry greeted the detective as if he hadn’t seen him in weeks, broadening smile only growing wider as Connor returned the confounding expression in full and straightened up some to greet the man.

“Hey, Jerry! How’ve you been?” Connor questioned eagerly, leaving Hank’s LED spinning bright yellow and his processors reeling as Detective Anderson went on about the process of pulling his wallet from his back pocket as if there was nothing out of the ordinary whatsoever about this entire exchange.

“Good!” Jerry replied excitedly, holding out an expectant hand as Connor tugged a few wrinkled dollar bills free from a leather wallet beginning to flake apart in places and placed them into the man’s waiting palm before slipping the aging item back away. “We haven’t seen you in awhile.” The coffee shop owner commented companionably, despite the obvious fact that the man had seen Connor all of two minutes and 33 seconds ago.

“Sorry, Jer, Amanda’s really run me through the ringer this past week.” Connor huffed exhaustedly, running a tired hand through his curling locks and leaning back in his stool to wrap a hand around the freshly brewed cup of coffee. Hank thought to warn the detective of the slightly concerning 165 degrees fahrenheit his sensors discerned within the steaming cup but the man released a contented sigh the moment his hands curled around the ceramic container so the robot let the unspoken advisory statement die on his lips.

“You work too hard, Connor.” Jerry sighed with a twinge of concern wavering through his upbeat voice but all he received in response was a casual shrug and a light laugh. Meanwhile, Hank was diligently calculating the likelihood that both the coffee shop owner and Connor had some form of mental illness, or at least a serious case of short term memory loss, the android even going so far as to run a secondary facial scan over the newcomer just to ensure he hadn’t overlooked something but the details came back the same: Cove, Jerry. Birthdate: June 22, 2013. Criminal record: None. Owner of Jerries Java.

The concerning man left after that, leaving Hank to sit patiently awaiting further instructions as Connor tugged his cigarette lightly from between his teeth for a moment in favor of bringing the still worryingly hot mug to his lips, steam yet billowing up from the burning liquid in great, flourishing whips that nearly shielded Detective Anderson’s face from view as he tipped it back against his pink lips. The cup was lowered again a moment later, an infinitely more relaxed expression painted softly over Connor’s features as the man slowly slipped his cigarette between his teeth once more and took a long drag on it before letting his head tip back slightly to blow the puff of smoke skyward in an arching cloud that dissipated into a light mist as it ghosted away in gentle, snaking tendrils.

“Detective,” Hank prompted after a moment, deciding to ignore the whole Jerry situation for the moment as it currently posed no problem and the android was much more concerned with a more pressing issue. A soft “hm?” of acknowledgement from Connor bid the robot go on and Hank felt his features twist into an artificial reflection of disgust as he suspiciously eyed the new found problem with obvious distaste. “Why did you order that monstrosity?” Hank deadpanned, glaring at the petty excuse for a cake perched stonely atop the gray speckled saucer crafted to match the coffee mug. “I’ve scanned the menu and it certainly seems to be the most unappealing thing I could find on it.” The android elaborated in confusion, deciding it would be beneficial to their partnership to learn what process guided Anderson to make such poor decisions.

“It’s got pineapple in it.” Connor dismissed with a shrug, glancing sideways at the confection before letting his chocolate eyes drift closed for a blissful moment as he brought his mug to his lips once more and drained an impressively large portion of the beverage in one fell swoop. Hank tried his best to ignore what other impressive things Connor had been eager to inform him he could do with his mouth.

“Besides, Jerry could make cat shit taste like a gourmet filet mignon.” Connor added as an afterthought but, after a quick runthrough of the most likely outcome for each course of action, the android decided the first bit of information would be a better selection to comment on.

“You like pineapples, Detective?” The machine inquired wonderingly, already beginning to pull the new piece of information up to file away in his quickly mounting Connor Anderson storage area but a sour face from the man in question halted the robot’s actions, Connor twisting his pink lips in a puckered frown around his cigarette and squinting one eye distastefully.

“Not really.” The detective admitted softly with an awkward chuckle and a light pink tinge came to dust gently across his soft cheeks, painting the pale skin there a soft rose. “But, hey, a guy’s gotta hope!” Connor explained teasingly, waggling one eyebrow in an absolutely ridiculous display Hank again failed to file away as a flirt or an attempt at humor.

“My sensors indicate you’ve never participated in sexual intercourse, Detective Anderson.” Hank stated easily, merely offering the simple piece of information up for consideration in light of Connor’s previous claim… The fact that Connor gagged on his own cigarette smoke was just an added bonus.

“The robo hunk’s got sensors to tell him I’m a 32 year old virgin.” Connor coughed dryly, struggling to get the deadpan words past the abrupt hacking his most recent feat brought forth. “Just lovely.” The man grumbled unhappily as his coughing finally began to subside and he could finally shoot a disgruntled glare the android’s way, though the absolute straight face, blank stare the detective received in return was likely not the reaction he had hoped and dreamed for.

“And what purpose did the dumb fucks up at Cyberlife think these wondrous sensors were going to serve exactly?” Connor demanded haughtily, glowering daggers into the table as he brought his now only half full coffee mug to his face, though this was likely only an excuse to cover his flaming cheeks as the detective made no moves to actually drink said beverage.

“My creators felt it would be beneficial for me to have as much information as possible about my adversaries to best exploit any available weakness.” Hank replied clinically, railing off the well known information without so much as skipping a beat, the android only pausing to evaluate the actual words when Connor gave a perturbed huff mid statement, the irritated breath of air blowing the curling steam billowing forth from the detective’s coffee forward in a dancing flurry of rapidly dissipating water particles.

“I’m your adversary, huh?” The man quipped dryly, the question spoken in such a manner that one could easily blow it off as a joke if they so chose. Never trapping the other conversation maker or forcing an answer from them and always leaving a way out seemed to be Connor’s preferred style of communication.

“It may not be the intended use,” Hank began carefully, cautiously picking each word by hand as nothing in his relations protocol lined up with what the android meant to say. “But I find it quite useful in the case of forming partnerships as well.” The android tried, unsure of what exactly he was trying to communicate but confident that Connor was not, in fact, what one would label an adversary by anyone’s standards. “Though I’ve never attempted to form a partnership before.” The robot added as an afterthought, the corner of his lip twitching oddly as the almost jovial words passed his lips.