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English
Series:
Part 13 of Detroit 07
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Published:
2019-06-04
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1,628
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1/1
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Lost and Found

Summary:

Connor's clothes get ruined at work, leaving him and Hank to rummage through Lost and Found for something for him to change into for the rest of the day. Tina helps...sort of.

Work Text:

“Where’s…Last time I saw it was right…oh god dammit…Tina!”

Tina would have been content to listen to Hank bitching and Connor mumbling for another half hour. Unfortunately, she knew exactly what they were looking for…Hell, the whole bullpen knew at this point, and she just happened to be walking by the open locker room door when Hank spotted her.

With an audible groan, she pushed the door farther open and poked her head in. “You bellowed, Lieutenant?”

Hank was rummaging through the cabinet where they used to keep the Lost and Found box of extra clothes, but Tina knew he was going to have no luck there because Lost and Found had been moved to the cabinet on the other end of the locker room. Connor was standing a few feet away, looking the perfect mixture of irritated and confused. He was also covered in garbage…and it stank. She didn’t want to know what those stains were all over his clothes…and in his hair…and on his skin.

“So you’re the stink bomb we’ve all been smelling, huh?” she greeted instead.

Connor turned his exasperated eyes on her, and she just smiled all the wider.

“Dumpster?” she guessed.

Before he had a chance to answer, Hank was straightening up and glaring at her. “Dammit, where’d the—“

“Lost and Found is in the other cabinet.” She pointed with her thumb.

Hank frowned grumpily at her. “If you knew what we were looking for, why didn’t you say so?”

She just shrugged, leading the way and opening the cabinet. She hefted out the worn cardboard box and plopped it on the bench in front of the row of lockers.

“Now I’m curious. Was it a dumpster?” she asked. “Please tell me you fell in a dumpster.”

Connor let Hank start digging into the pile of lost clothes, as he started peeling off his ruined jacket. “I did not fall into a dumpster, Officer Chen. I was pursuing a suspect who was fleeing the scene of a crime. We had an altercation, and he got the upper hand.”

Hank pulled out a navy blue t-shirt with DPD stamped in yellow on the front. He held it up, judged it to be close enough to Connor’s size, and tossed it onto the bench beside the box. “Motherfucker threw him in the dumpster.”

Tina gawked, forgetting to look uninterested for a moment. “The perp…wait…The perp picked you up—“ She mimicked the motion with her hands in front of her. “And bodily tossed you into a dumpster like a ragdoll?”

Connor loosened his tie and dropped it on the floor. It landed with a wet smack. “I suspect that he was high on some illegal substance and…in his state…he had the adrenaline to—Yes.” He conceded with a sigh. “He threw me into the dumpster.”

Tina burst out into a short laugh. “Oh my god! Were there security cameras anywhere? Please tell me that moment was caught on camera somewhere.”

Connor’s face pinched in embarrassment, and he turned away, not answering, as he started to unbutton his formerly white dress shirt. Tina continued to snicker, and she looked back at Hank.

“Was it funny?” she asked.

Hank raised his eyebrows. “It was—“

Connor’s head whipped around, staring daggers at his partner.

Hank paused. “—It wasn’t NOT funny…after I realized you weren’t hurt, of course.”

Both Connor’s ruined shirt and jacket landed on the tile floor with equally disgusting slap noises, and Tina could have sworn she heard him grumbling to himself as he pulled on the clean t-shirt.

“Oh, uh, ew…You’ve got…” Tina gestured to Connor’s head. “In your hair…”

Connor grimaced as he ran his hands over his head, dislodging the cigarette butt and a chunk of what Tina hoped was only rotten banana.

“Pants.” Hank tossed a wad of denim at Connor, hitting him in the chest.

Connor caught it, glanced at Hank and Tina, and then ducked around the wall of lockers to finish changing. Tina folded her arms and nudged the pile of ruined clothes on the floor.

“Androids have a sense of modesty, who knew?”

Hank grunted, shoving the box back into the cabinet.

“I do not need an audience,” Connor snapped from the other side. “Not for getting thrown into trash and not for changing clothes, and especially not for being mocked for it.”

Hank gave Tina a chiding look to match Connor’s tone, and Tina rolled her eyes.

“Ah, c’mon, Connie. I’m not mocking. We’ve all been thrown into dumpsters at some point or another…”

Hank tilted his head at her quizzically, and Tina shifted, rolling her shoulder.

“Well, I mean…Most of us have…It happens.”

“Not…really…” Hank lifted an eyebrow at her. “What kind of fucked up suspects have you been chasing?”

Tina idly picked at the cardboard box of clothes, half hanging out of the open cabinet. “Just…three.” She quickly pointed at him. “But Gavin’s got me beat at seven.”

“That man was born in a dumpster,” Hank grumbled.

Tina snorted, and Connor walked back around the locker wall. The shirt fit surprisingly well, but the pants were clearly about two sizes too big. He was looping his belt through the waist of it as he came back into view.

“That’s better,” Tina said cheerfully, trying to make up for teasing him since it clearly bothered him.

Connor made a neutral sound and started picking up his ruined clothes from the floor.

“Might be worth just tossing those out,” Hank suggested.

“You can’t wash out dumpster,” Tina added.

Connor’s gaze drifted away and slightly out of focus. “I…don’t want to.”

Hank frowned. “They’re all torn up and covered in…dumpster juice. There’s no saving ‘em.”

Connor shifted self consciously, and it was a weird movement for Tina to see. The signature blue emblem of Cyberlife glowed up from the side of the jacket, and Connor’s thumb ran across the least filthy edge of it. If she didn’t know any better, she would say he looked sentimental at the thing.

Come to think of it, she’d never actually seen him wear anything other than that Cyberlife issued jacket. But that company had gone under within months of the revolution. Nobody sold their merch anymore, and most androids who kept their standard issue threads had removed the logos from it, since they didn’t have to mark themselves as androids anymore.

But Connor had always been a little weird, so Tina didn’t point this out, going instead back to picking at the loose pair of pants on top of the box.

“I don’t…have any more,” Connor muttered.

“You got plenty of clothes at home, if you’d ever wear ‘em,” Hank said, putting his hands on his hips.

“No, it’s not that. It’s…I can’t explain it, Hank…The idea of throwing away this jacket…even though it’s likely ruined…makes me uncomfortable.”

Tina was getting uncomfortable too, but this awkward little moment of sincerity was happening between her and the door. She couldn’t exactly slip by unnoticed without looking like she was running away from the android having an emotion.

“Well, then don’t throw it away.” Hank gave in pretty quickly with a shrug. “But that is NOT going in my washing machine at home. Dry clean it somewhere or something.”

Connor still looked upset, but he slowly obliged when Hank offered a plastic bag for him to shove the pile into.

“Can’t leave this in here. It’ll stink up the place…I’ll go toss it in the car.” Hank took the bag, heading out the door. “You, uh, clean yourself up a little more, okay?”

Connor nodded, looking like he felt exposed. Tina fought the urge to comfort him. Christ, it was a jacket. New to emotions to not, getting that worked up was ridiculous.

Instead, she pouted her lips and brandished the pair of pants from the box.

“Hey, if it’s a new wardrobe you’re looking for.” She got his attention by waving the pants at him. “I will PAY you to wear these for the rest of the day.”

Connor sheepishly turned and looked at the baby blue sweatpants that she was holding up, and she watched him read the shimmery, cursive font printed on the back that said “Bitch.” He seemed to short circuit for a moment before raising his eyes from the pants to Tina.

“What the fuck, Tina?”

It was the first time she’d ever heard Mr. Polite Professional swear, but sweet Moses, it was worth it.

Tina cackled and leaned back. “Pleeeeeeeease, oh my god. Twenty bucks.”

“No,” he said, clearly offended.

“Thirty.”

“Officer Chen!”

“Forty!”

Connor was walking briskly to get away from Tina now, and it only egged her on. Fortunately or unfortunately, Connor fled into the hallway and bumped straight into Gavin.

“What the Hell, toaster?” Gavin swatted him away.

Connor bounced backward, hands raised placatingly. “My apologizes, detective. I was just—“

“Running away from Tina? Didn’t you face off against your own evil twin?” Gavin snorted. “But Tina scares you?”

Tina glared. “I could end your existence right now.”

Gavin raised his hands in surrender, and Connor took the opportunity to continue fleeing, darting down the hallway. Gavin looked back at Tina.

“So…forty what?”

Tina blinked, then slowly smiled. “Forty bucks if Connor wore these the rest of the day.” She held up the pants long enough for Gavin to read them. “I’ll go fifty for you.”

He paused, eyes narrowing, and then yanked the baby blue Bitch pants from her, shouldering past into the locker room. “I’ll take that money.”

Tina did a fist pump and bounced back to her desk.

Today just kept getting better and better.

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