[He gets to his feet, wondering if it was a good idea to give Charlotte free reign in their room. That’s answered when Connor opens the door and sees that the entire ceiling is now covered in silky web, with Charlotte resting snugly in the center.]
[The Spinarak lowers herself down by Connor’s feet and looks up at him expectantly, as though asking for his approval. Connor suddenly realises he doesn’t have it in him to destroy her work when she’s right there. He gives Hank an apologetic look.]
[Don't fucking look at him like that, with the sad puppy eyes. He fucking hates it. It'll be the death of him. That expression is wounded and humans can feel that shit physically.]
[He takes Connor's face in his hands, more gentle than yesterday, and makes him look at him.]
Yeah, you made a mistake. We all make mistakes. Even as an android you made mistakes.
But how does it feel?
[He notices that he cut off. But he doesn't let it go, because Connor can fucking wound him with that face. It just cuts him deep, and he can't let it be.]
[Because logic dictates that this exact scenario would happen, and he'd even watched her spinning web up in the corner. He just assumed she'd keep it to that corner and be happy with it. He lowers his gaze, frowning. He's not used to making mistakes.]
These are alien animals. You couldn't have known for sure. Not event this thing- [He pulls out his PokeGear and waves it around] -is specific enough.
And I hate to tell you this, but humans are pretty stupid.
[He's sure Connor has realized, but he guesses if he pokes light fun of his current state, of all their current states, he will feel a little bit better. Where one hand is still resting on his cheek, he rubs it with his thumb again, a subtle gesture of comfort. More than normal partners, he knows, but considering that this man has seen him at his worst, and Hank's already made it clear he'd take a bullet for him and his cause, then this level of affection is permitted.]
[Right... he's human now, he's going to make mistakes and miscalculate certain things. Still, he looks up at Hank as he touches his cheek, meeting his eyes for a moment before sighing.]
Okay. You're right. Thanks.
[And he gives him a soft smile. He doesn't mind the affection. It's nice.]
[Annnnd. Yep. He has officially been holding his face for too long. And staring into his brown eyes with his soft blue ones. Yup. This has went from friendly support to a little awkward. Just... Is there a window he can jump out of because his hand is threatening to get clammy and he can really use someone interrupting them.]
I'm excited. I don't get to be right often with you. I'm on a winning streak.
[Okay just- right, now he's let go. Great, his hand is free, and he's managed to make it less... whatever that was. Is tense a good word?]
[Cooler. He needs the cooler. He realizes that he'd tucked his Pokegear absently against his chest to keep it out of the way, and even that feels clumsy at the moment. He puts that away and picks up the cooler.]
We're going.
[What the hell was that, even? He's mentally swearing at himself.]
[I just feel stupid, too, goes unsaid with that petulant untrue explanation. Because he doesn't know why he felt so tense. It's Connor. He should be okay.]
Bring your balls. Extra balls. Just in case.
[Why doesn't he just eat his own foot? Huh?! Would that be less clumsy? If his actual foot was in his mouth? God fucking dammit. He's leaving. Connor can follow him or not.]
[He does as he's told and then catches up to Hank, with Crockett looking between them questioningly. Amazing how something without an actual face can be so expressive.]
Oh yeah. I've been fishing before. I used to do it a lot. It's less about actually catching anything- I mean, the old stereotype about 'the one that got away' or 'big fish story' is pretty accurate. People usually don't get anything and then say they did.
[The strangeness seems to ebb.]
It's more about just sitting around by yourself or with a friend and drinking and waiting for a bite. Middle of Lake Erie on a boat by yourself? Most relaxing time you could ask for.
[And obviously not something he's done in years and years.]
[As they exit the inn, Connor stops briefly to apologise to the front desk and promise to pay for the extra cleaning. For what it's worth, they're very forgiving. It must happen a lot. When he's done he joins Hank again, letting out Charlotte. Well, it's a day out to the beach, why wouldn't he let the Spinarak be a part of it too?
It's warm, so Connor takes off his suit jacket and folds it over his arm as they walk.]
I don't know. People just did it. I never did, but I think it's another tradition thing.
I went fishing with Fowler back when we got along. Went with my wife a few times. [Never got to take Cole. But that goes without saying, really.] Went as a group with the task unit but that was... fucking years ago. Nobody caught anything. We just got drunk and had a few laughs.
[So yeah. He's been fishing.]
[He finds a place to buy what he needs (and the change of clothes as an aside). Two fishing rods, some fake lures as bait, and that. Hank still has to take off his coat, but he waits until they get to the beach to do that.] Okay, so. I'll get our lines set up. Gotta just... tie on the bobber, and then the hook.... and then bait the hook... [He's saying it as he's doing it, showing Connor as he does, getting his line ready first.]
[And then he steps behind him and puts his hands behind him.]
Okay, so you want about this much line hanging loose to start. Just about a foot to two feet. And this button on the reel? Makes the line go loose and unspool. So what you do? Is you angle the rod back- make sure absolutely no one is in hitting range because taking a hook the earlobe is terrible, and- [Holding his hand over Connor's, he shows him how to push the button and cast out the line, the reel spinning aggressively as the line lands out in the water.]
[Connor watches as Hank explains what to do, and once the line is cast he looks back at Hank.]
So now I just wait?
[He’s set his jacket on top of the cooler for now, not wanting to get it sandy, and he kicks off his shoes after thinking about it and pulls off his socks, feeling the sand between his toes.]
Yep. Well... Maybe every once in a while reeling it in a little. And if there isn't a bite in a while, you cast it out again.
[Hank deals with prepping his own line and removing his own shoes, though he also rolls up his pants legs to about his calves, just in case he needs to step into the surf and fight in a fish of some sort. By the time he's cast, things feel infinitely less odd. He's in a much better mood.]
[It's nice. The sand is sunwarm and fine. The air is clean (but the air seems clean everywhere). It's beautiful. Fake as hell, of course. But beautiful. That lingering music is still strange but he's gotten so he just tunes the shit out. He can ignore Detroit, he can ignore that.]
[He rolls up his own pants and sits heavily in the sand, eyes determined and gaze set somewhere out in the water. He’s going to catch the biggest fish, Hank.
The silence (minus the music) is nice enough, but Connor soon looks over at Hank again.]
So.
[...]
At least it’s not raining.
[Human or android, he’s still going to suck at small talk.]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
[He gets to his feet, wondering if it was a good idea to give Charlotte free reign in their room. That’s answered when Connor opens the door and sees that the entire ceiling is now covered in silky web, with Charlotte resting snugly in the center.]
Oh. Well.
no subject
Maybe in the pokeball would be best.
[He continues to walk around, just astounded by how much Charlotte managed in just that little time.]
Unless we get a couple of brooms, I'm guessing we'll be paying the maids extra before we go. Fuck, can a couple of brooms even take care of this?
[He's handling it very well. But he's also a man that winces at birds.]
no subject
I’m thinking we’ll be paying the maids more.
no subject
[He points from Spinarak to Connor back to Spinarak.]
Only one out at a time so we can keep an eye on it, alright? So we don't end up in... I don't end up in a Steven Spielberg scenario.
And we'll let the front desk know. Jesus Christ.
no subject
I didn’t know she was going to do that.
[Though maybe it should have been obvious, given that she’s a spider and that’s what spiders do.]
no subject
[He takes Connor's face in his hands, more gentle than yesterday, and makes him look at him.]
I'm not mad. Okay?
Okay?
[He asks for confirmation that Connor realizes.]
no subject
I know.
[He had wondered a little, but the face was more self-reprimanding than anything else. Which means it’s still there as he looks up at Hank’s face.]
I just feel... I made a mistake, that’s all.
[He doesn’t quite finish telling Hank how he feels, but he feels dumb.]
no subject
But how does it feel?
[He notices that he cut off. But he doesn't let it go, because Connor can fucking wound him with that face. It just cuts him deep, and he can't let it be.]
no subject
[Because logic dictates that this exact scenario would happen, and he'd even watched her spinning web up in the corner. He just assumed she'd keep it to that corner and be happy with it. He lowers his gaze, frowning. He's not used to making mistakes.]
no subject
And I hate to tell you this, but humans are pretty stupid.
[He's sure Connor has realized, but he guesses if he pokes light fun of his current state, of all their current states, he will feel a little bit better. Where one hand is still resting on his cheek, he rubs it with his thumb again, a subtle gesture of comfort. More than normal partners, he knows, but considering that this man has seen him at his worst, and Hank's already made it clear he'd take a bullet for him and his cause, then this level of affection is permitted.]
no subject
Okay. You're right. Thanks.
[And he gives him a soft smile. He doesn't mind the affection. It's nice.]
no subject
I'm excited. I don't get to be right often with you. I'm on a winning streak.
[Okay just- right, now he's let go. Great, his hand is free, and he's managed to make it less... whatever that was. Is tense a good word?]
no subject
[He turns his head away, feeling some of the tension in the air but not really understanding why it's there.]
Are we going, then?
no subject
[Cooler. He needs the cooler. He realizes that he'd tucked his Pokegear absently against his chest to keep it out of the way, and even that feels clumsy at the moment. He puts that away and picks up the cooler.]
We're going.
[What the hell was that, even? He's mentally swearing at himself.]
no subject
You're acting strange. Are you alright?
no subject
[I just feel stupid, too, goes unsaid with that petulant untrue explanation. Because he doesn't know why he felt so tense. It's Connor. He should be okay.]
Bring your balls. Extra balls. Just in case.
[Why doesn't he just eat his own foot? Huh?! Would that be less clumsy? If his actual foot was in his mouth? God fucking dammit. He's leaving. Connor can follow him or not.]
no subject
[He does as he's told and then catches up to Hank, with Crockett looking between them questioningly. Amazing how something without an actual face can be so expressive.]
Have you been fishing before?
no subject
[The strangeness seems to ebb.]
It's more about just sitting around by yourself or with a friend and drinking and waiting for a bite. Middle of Lake Erie on a boat by yourself? Most relaxing time you could ask for.
[And obviously not something he's done in years and years.]
no subject
[As they exit the inn, Connor stops briefly to apologise to the front desk and promise to pay for the extra cleaning. For what it's worth, they're very forgiving. It must happen a lot. When he's done he joins Hank again, letting out Charlotte. Well, it's a day out to the beach, why wouldn't he let the Spinarak be a part of it too?
It's warm, so Connor takes off his suit jacket and folds it over his arm as they walk.]
Do you think we'll catch a pokemon?
no subject
I went fishing with Fowler back when we got along. Went with my wife a few times. [Never got to take Cole. But that goes without saying, really.] Went as a group with the task unit but that was... fucking years ago. Nobody caught anything. We just got drunk and had a few laughs.
[So yeah. He's been fishing.]
[He finds a place to buy what he needs (and the change of clothes as an aside). Two fishing rods, some fake lures as bait, and that. Hank still has to take off his coat, but he waits until they get to the beach to do that.] Okay, so. I'll get our lines set up. Gotta just... tie on the bobber, and then the hook.... and then bait the hook... [He's saying it as he's doing it, showing Connor as he does, getting his line ready first.]
[And then he steps behind him and puts his hands behind him.]
Okay, so you want about this much line hanging loose to start. Just about a foot to two feet. And this button on the reel? Makes the line go loose and unspool. So what you do? Is you angle the rod back- make sure absolutely no one is in hitting range because taking a hook the earlobe is terrible, and- [Holding his hand over Connor's, he shows him how to push the button and cast out the line, the reel spinning aggressively as the line lands out in the water.]
Like that.
no subject
So now I just wait?
[He’s set his jacket on top of the cooler for now, not wanting to get it sandy, and he kicks off his shoes after thinking about it and pulls off his socks, feeling the sand between his toes.]
no subject
[Hank deals with prepping his own line and removing his own shoes, though he also rolls up his pants legs to about his calves, just in case he needs to step into the surf and fight in a fish of some sort. By the time he's cast, things feel infinitely less odd. He's in a much better mood.]
[It's nice. The sand is sunwarm and fine. The air is clean (but the air seems clean everywhere). It's beautiful. Fake as hell, of course. But beautiful. That lingering music is still strange but he's gotten so he just tunes the shit out. He can ignore Detroit, he can ignore that.]
no subject
[He rolls up his own pants and sits heavily in the sand, eyes determined and gaze set somewhere out in the water. He’s going to catch the biggest fish, Hank.
The silence (minus the music) is nice enough, but Connor soon looks over at Hank again.]
So.
[...]
At least it’s not raining.
[Human or android, he’s still going to suck at small talk.]
no subject
[He creases his brows at Connor, smiling warmly.]
But I'm not a fish so I'm enjoying being dry.
no subject
[He looks out at the water, kind of tempted to splash his feet in it.]
So now that we’re better friends, maybe there’s something else you’d like to know about me?
[Rather than “yeah why do you look so goofy”.]
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)