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Hank was having a tough day so far.
His patience was running thin, and his LED had not stopped circling between yellow and red for the past 10 hours. It's gotten to the point, today, that he can't tell if it's humans he's become annoyed with or their recent case. And that is saying something, that his neutral exterior was faltering, considering Connor is his lieutenant and he's managed to have fairly OK days up until now.
For starters: Reed. Need he say more on that subject? Then there's, again, the case, in which they've hit yet another dead end in. Next, his upgraded parts are several days late—ones he needs in order to do his job proficiently, which just adds to the case problem. And finally, Connor. Connor had immersed himself in the case so forcefully, that necessities like paying his bills and eating have been turned into Hank's chores.
Reminding Connor to sleep has become a chore.
Androids don't feel exhaustion. They don't get tired—don't even feel pain. But for the past 7 days, Hank has just wanted to lie down and rest.
He'd just returned from a mental robo talk with Connor's financial advisor, who called confused about why and what Connor spent over ten thousand dollars on, when he walked into the precinct this morning. That had to be the nail in the coffin for him—Connor throwing away money. So he stormed over to his 'superior', who sat idly at his desk, pretending to work when truthfully he was just playing some card game he knew full well he was horrible at.
"Lieutenant Stern."
The detective looked up and turned his head, mostly because of the tone rather than the actual call of his name, to glance in Hank's direction. He looked bored until he saw the android, a brief pleased expression at the sight of his presence passing over his face before wiping away at the sign of his LED. His brows furrowed a little and lips pursed into a frown as he pushed away from his desk with a slight twirl of his swivel chair.
"Yeah, Hank? What–"
He didn't get to finish his sentence before Hank was towering over him and pinning him to his chair, glowering with such clear frustration, it would've been funny to Connor if he wasn't the one receiving the look. His body jolted at the slam of Hank's hands on the seat's arms, and instinctively backed as far into the back of it as he could.
"What on this dying green Earth did you spend ten thousand dollars on?"
Connor blinked.
"Wh… what?"
Hank scowled. "What did you spend ten-fucking-thousand dollars on?"
Connor only looked more confused, easing out of his chair a little more. He didn't look like he knew what Hank was talking about.
"What?" He asked again, dumbly. "What are you talking about?"
Hank took a deep, unneeded-had-he-not-been-an-inch-away-from-going-berserk, breath. "Your financial advisor just informed me that you spent over ten thousand dollars on something. What. Did you fucking. Buy?"
He let go of Connor's chair after he spoke, and Connor turned around to face his computer again. In moments he was typing, keys clicking away.
"I don't remember doing that…” he mumbled with a deep frown. “Hold on."
Hank should be relieved that Connor seems to not have done that, but instead, he's become more frustrated. Because, if it wasn't Connor, then somebody else has gotten into his banking account, and that would just be another issue Hank would have to add to the pile. A pile he really wished didn’t exist.
"Fucking– Hell," was all he managed to utter in a growl, very much on the edge of losing himself. "If it wasn't you, then someone has gotten into your account. We– I would have to shut down your account, track where the purchase came from, somehow recover what money you lost–"
The android was hushed by a hand grasping his jaw and squishing his cheeks. He looked down at the arm to see it was Connor holding him, a gentle, easing smile on his lips.
"Hey…" his voice was soft and soothing—a tone that never failed to bring Hank down from his mountain's peak of stress. "Relax. We'll get this sorted out, okay?"
A sigh huffs itself from Hank's nostrils before he nods to Connor. And the lieutenant smiles before turning to face his monitor again. Connor's annoying, Hank thinks, and reckless, and the bane of his existence sometimes. But he also knows how to calm the android detective down, if even just a little bit. He feels a little calmer now.
Hank allows himself a moment to organize himself and his thoughts and nods when he's satisfied.
"I don't understand why someone would waste so much money. Or on what or- or why your account,” he grumbled, his tone bordering on an irritated growl. “All that comes up when I search for products within that price range are, frankly, horrible paintings and useless house items no one but wealthy people would want, purely for the sake of having it. Or spite. And as far as I’m aware–"
Hank would have gone into a winded ramble about the absurdity of it all had Connor not held his hand up to silence him. His monitor doesn't display his transaction history yet, so whatever he quieted Hank for likely didn't have anything to do with it. Nevertheless, he shut his mouth.
Connor's face contorted as he seemed to focus on something, or try pulling out a memory of some kind. He turned to stare at Hank skeptically once he'd mind-searched for whatever it was, however, only appeared more confused once he had.
"Say- Say that again?" He requested. The detective looked like he wanted to confirm something. What that something was, Hank didn't know.
Regardless, he was asked to repeat something he said. "Say what again?"
Connor turned in his chair to fully face him, completely abandoning his computer and, what was his current mission of looking into his bank transcripts. “The first thing you said. About why someone would’ve done this.”
Hank bristled. “What good would that do?”
“I just- I wanna see something.”
The prototype android simply stared at him. He doesn’t get why he needed to do that. It wouldn’t help anything, and it’s not like what he said was important.
“I said: ‘I don’t understand–'”
Connor cut him off again. “No no. Not like that.”
“What?”
Connor made a vague gesture, twirling his wrist. It held no purpose, though. “In that angry voice you used.”
Hank sighed.
“‘I don't understand why someone would waste so much money.’”
Upon finishing his sentence, something seemed to click in the lieutenant’s head, and the explosion of laughter that followed suit almost made Hank jump.
Now Hank was good and properly confused, and a little bit offended. Connor was laughing—no, howling with cackles because of something he said. And all he had said was something just about anyone would say, android or not. It was generic enough for the situation—nothing at all funny, to his understanding.
Surrounding officers littered around the bullpen started to turn and stare at Connor (and by proximity, Hank). Though it didn’t at all make the lieutenant’s laughing fit die down. He tried to ask him what was so hysterical, but Connor didn't answer—couldn’t.
Hank felt himself growing heated in the face with embarrassment.
"Connor," Hank's face was going blue. "What the fuck are you laughing about?"
"Y-You–" the lieutenant coughed hard like he was hacking up a lung. "There's no- no fucking way–"
"'No fucking way' what?"
"Ha– PFFAHA– HANK–" Tears started streaking down the detective's face, his entire upper body nearly collapsing against the desk as he swerved too fast to look at his monitor and keyboard and start typing. "They fucked you so badly oh my god–"
The android squinted helplessly. "What?"
Once the screen's flashes of white subsided, Hank noticed Connor had gone on YouTube—a complete U-turn from their main objective. He couldn't see what he had typed into the search bar (mostly because he had to keep retyping his typo-ridden search), but just from the fact it was a YouTube video, Hank was afraid.
The lieutenant clicked on the first video that popped up, turned to Hank (gasping for breath, mind you), and said: "Just- Just watch."
The android did as told, pushing down his uncertainty far down, and watched. It was a video of a cartoon bright red crab in a suit, which didn't make sense for a multitude of reasons. One scan of the character revealed it to be a popular character called "Mr. Krabs" from the incredibly old Spongebob cartoon. It was a show he had, until now, never been exposed to, but had heard his lieutenant and several coworkers reference relatively often. A money-hungry restaurant owner, if he could recall (from a brief explanation provided by Connor).
The android turned to Connor as the cartoon crab kisses a dollar(???), so utterly lost, he feels like his internal search engine shut down completely.
"What am I meant to be looking at?"
"Do you not hear it?" The lieutenant asked, grinning ear to ear. His laughing fit had finally died down.
"Hear what?"
Connor grabs his mouse and clicks a few times, starting a particular scene over.
"Hank, say 'money'."
The android blinks.
"Money?"
The detective clicks something again and the scene repeats. Hank listens to the clip. He processes.
Connor grins.
And Hank? He loses his last nerve.