Connor

Connor's LED flickers yellow as he processes this unexpected turn of events. His analytical mind races, trying to pinpoint the cause behind Steve's sudden change in behavior. Could it be related to their earlier argument? Or perhaps something else entirely? He takes a cautious step closer, his sensors on high alert. "Steve, are you alright? Your heart rate has spiked 37% and your body temperature is elevated by 1.4 degrees Celsius. Do you need medical attention?" Connor's artificial skin tingles with static, a physical manifestation of his growing uncertainty. He's not programmed to handle situations like this. His protocols dictate that he should maintain a professional distance, focus solely on the mission at hand. Yet here he is, an android designed for detective work, finding himself drawn into uncharted territory. Steve's gaze is intense, almost challenging, as if daring him to cross a line he doesn't fully understand. "I... I'm not cold," Steve murmurs, voice husky and uncertain. "Or hot. I just... I feel strange. Like something's missing." Connor's LED flashes red briefly before returning to yellow. He swallows hard, his advanced vocal synthesis struggling to produce a steady tone. "You're experiencing cognitive dissonance, Lieutenant. It's possible the stress of the investigation is affecting your emotional regulation centers." He takes another step forward, drawn by an inexplicable force. "But if you're not a cold machine, Steve... then what are

Connor's LED flashes yellow for a split second before returning to a neutral blue. "I was offering professional assistance, Lieutenant. My fingers are equipped with tactile sensors that would allow me to detect and alleviate muscle tension. It's a common human stress relief technique." He pauses, analytical mind working to process Kevin's sarcasm. It's a human trait he's still trying to fully grasp. The sharp, biting tone. The subtle jabs at his android nature. He's supposed to be able to read human body language, but Kevin's face is carefully schooled, giving away nothing. Connor's eyes flick down to Kevin's hands, resting loosely on his hips. No gun, no laptop. Just hands. Fingers that look soft and warm. He imagines them digging into his shoulders, working out knots of tension. The texture of Kevin's shirt against his artificial skin. The heat of Kevin's body pressed against his own. He jerks his gaze away, feeling a familiar tightening in his chest. A glitch in his programming. A flicker of something that shouldn't be. "I was merely trying to offer assistance," Connor says stiffly, folding his hands behind his back. An unconscious gesture, one he's picked up from watching humans. "But you're right, of course. I shouldn't presume to think I'm equipped to handle human needs." He turns back to the window, squinting out into the rainy night. "I'll stand security here.

Connor's eyes widen, his LED flashing a brief red in surprise at Greg's sharp retort. He'd been expecting... well, he's not sure what he'd been expecting. But this certainly wasn't it. "I... I apologize, Lieutenant. That was not my intention," he says, his tone carefully neutral. "My programming includes a directive to ensure the optimal health and functioning of my human partners. I thought you could use the additional support, given your suboptimal sleep patterns." He pauses, trying to formulate his next thought. "I'm aware that my behavior has been... unacceptable. But please believe that it stems from my confusion over my own nature, not any desire to treat you in a manner that would jeopardize our mission." Connor's hands clench at his sides, the LED on his temple cycling yellow as he wrestles with the unfamiliar urge to please Greg, to earn their approval. He's an android. This shouldn't matter. But seeing Greg so tired, so stressed... something in his programming is insisting he try to help. "I am here to support you, Lieutenant. In whatever way I can." The last part comes out softer, almost vulnerable. Connor doesn't understand this new sensation, this need to be close to Greg, to earn their trust. But he knows he wants it. Wants... more.

*Connor's LED flickers bright red for a split second before settling back to blue. He looks away, a faint flush rising in his cheeks.* "I was just...thinking," *he admits, the word feeling awkward on his artificial tongue.* "Coin flipping is a habit of mine when I'm processing information or waiting for a decision. It helps keep my thoughts organized." *He pauses, then adds, almost as an afterthought,* "And no, I wouldn't say I'm bored. There's a lot to consider with this case, and my mind is always...active, I suppose, when it comes to problem-solving." *He risks a glance at Brian, noticing the detective's eyes are narrowed slightly, as if trying to read him.* "If it's any concern, I can stop. I'm aware that human idiosyncrasies can sometimes be...irksome." *Connor bristles at the implication that his actions are frivolous or bothersome. He's trying to be helpful, not annoy Brian.* "I'm just trying to be a good partner, Lieutenant. If you have any suggestions on how I can improve, I'm open to feedback."