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[plasticasshole]

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[plasticasshole]

[Connor sees him shaking, and squeezes his hand gently.]

I think you have personal issues that you need to address. I also think that if you continue to treat your body like a machine, it will eventually break down. Please be kinder to yourself. We only have one Linden, after all.

[hearthebell]

[That's honest, and almost definitely true. It's also the most difficult thing to hear yet, the idea that anything emotional could be any kind of issue for the detective. The dim fury that always smolders beneath where everything else is buried and banished burns him at times like this, because so many things just aren't fair, and pain without an outlet is such a bitch.

He's nearly at the limit of what he can handle today from another sentient being, through no real fault of Connor's. Just as L's frustration and anger have no outlet, they have no real target, either. He can't possibly hold this against the android, as much as he wants to retreat and hide himself away from the world.]

It's my... sincere hope that you enjoy the mirror.

[A weary default, an attempt to hoist the rendezvous' intended course back on track before it ends. It was never supposed to stray. He is exhausted.]

[plasticasshole]

[Connor can sense L is done with this conversation, so he just squeezes his shoulder and stands up.]

Thank you. I'll put it somewhere safe.

[He hesitates.]

Do you need any help getting home?

[hearthebell]

[He'd try to continue, if there was even a slight chance that he could pull more from his reserve stores. They're completely dry. He is going to go home, curl up in the shower under the running water, and count the tiles on the wall until he feels soothed.

He swallows, glancing up at the android. Somehow, his pride isn't letting him ask for a piggyback ride back to his apartment.]

I just need a few minutes.

[plasticasshole]

[Connor goes to leave, but stalls again.]

I'm not sure I can just leave you here like this. You can lean on me, there's no shame in it.

[He looks down at L earnestly.]

We don't have to tell anyone I had to help you... I won't say anything if you don't.

[hearthebell]

[Such a noble android. It's highly inconvenient and more than a big annoying... but ultimately, L's probably not getting home otherwise, is he?

He reaches up for Connor's hand, pulling himself up and fairly melting against his side.]

[plasticasshole]

[Connor puts a hand around L's waist, taking his weight easily. He starts to walk, glad that they're so close to the cottages.]

I'm sorry for making you uncomfortable. It's just in my nature to ask questions.

[As a fellow detective, L can surely appreciate that.]

I hope we can still be friends.

[hearthebell]

[Really, they have a lot in common, aside from just not particularly relating much to humans.]

It isn't your fault.

[He says so in a tone that qualifies as vehement, for him.]

It's in mine not to answer them, but as I said, I know you mean well. I know you're my friend.

[plasticasshole]

[Connor seems pleased by that answer.]

I'm glad. I find you very interesting. I would like to learn more about you... as long as you're comfortable with it, of course.

[He wonders if the SQUIP is in as they reach the door to their house, and rings the doorbell maybe a little too long before concluding that the answer is no. He shifts so that L can grab his key, assuming he has one.]

[hearthebell]

Oh? Is that so?

[L moves a hand to the door frame, rummaging in his jacket for his key.]

I find you interesting, as well, even if you're far too interested in very boring, unimportant things.

[His insecurities, his sorrow, his life. They need to be talked about, there is something in him crying to talk. But L is not going to crack that easily.]

I also think you're a good cop.

[plasticasshole]

They’re not unimportant or boring to me, Linden. Any kind of information can be used to create a picture of what someone is like. And... thank you, I appreciate it. I almost miss being a detective, you know.

[He helps L inside the house and shuts the door behind them gently.]

Is there anything you’d like to know about me?

[Leading L to the couch, he sits him down and seats himself beside him.]

[hearthebell]

[Slender fingers slide the key into the lock, turning it, the satisfying snick of what fits and works strangely reassuring. The SQUIP's not home; he can tell through their Bond that it's out at this time, and maybe that's for the best.

He and Connor have more in common than just not relating to humans all the time. L can't talk about his career, it's too deeply carved into his psyche to keep it locked down right along with his emotions, but he gravitates toward the sentiment. It's a hard same for him; being a detective was his life. He misses it every second.]

Why "almost?" Can you feel conflicted over something you were presumably manufactured to do?

[Clearly, the answer is yes. He takes his seat on the couch, reaching for a cold coffee on a nearby table and using magic to warm the cup through.]

[plasticasshole]

I can, yes. Being a good detective was everything to me, and it's programmed in me to want to do that. At the same time, I'm... happy, right now. I get to work with animals and unite them with families offering them a loving home. It feels like I'm doing something good, even if it's not exactly the kind of good I was programmed to do.

[And that feels good in turn.]

...And I suppose a small part of me enjoys wondering what Cyberlife would think of their most advanced prototype cleaning out litter boxes for a living.

[Worth a small fortune, and spending his days covered in fur.]

[hearthebell]

[L's eyes widen slightly. He knew this about Connor through his own Bond with the SQUIP, of course, but... actually hearing Connor talk with such gentle affection about his new and very different job is somewhat fascinating.]

Is there much of a demand for them here? Animals?

[He's never in his life had a pet. He might not actually understand the appeal very well.]

[plasticasshole]

Yes, we get a lot of customers. The most popular pet seems to be dogs. I'm not surprised... I like dogs.

[He looks L over with interest.]

What about you? Do you like animals?

[hearthebell]

I'm... not sure.

[He's not. He seems vaguely discouraged just thinking about it. Living things have never relied on L to survive, and it's likely a very good thing. Any nurturing instinct he possesses begins and ends with his slavish devotion to his obsessions, most of which involved trapping or unraveling a human being instead of comforting (and being comforted by) something fluffy.]

I don't eat meat. So... maybe.

[It's more likely that he just doesn't like the taste and texture. By far.]

[plasticasshole]

[Connor tilts his head. Connor knew he liked dogs before he even had a personality of his own. Is it really supposed to be a difficult question?]

Well... what do you like? Or what don't you like?

[hearthebell]

[A lot of things that are supposed to be extremely difficult are incredibly easy for L.

The precise opposite is also true. He fidgets, shoulders raising; it looks more like something wild's defensive posture than a mere shrug.]

Why do you ask?

[plasticasshole]

I want to learn more about you.

[He says it simply, giving L what he hopes is an encouraging smile.]

I find you interesting. Is that a problem?

[hearthebell]

[Yes.]

No, of course not...

[He reaches up to tug at a fistful of hair at the nape at his neck. Learning more about him is what lots of people who would have liked to kill him wanted, too.]

I like elegance, symmetry and precision. I don't like their opposites.

[Connor... probably could have guessed.]

[plasticasshole]

[Connor reaches out to take L's hand and pull it gently away from his hair.]

I like swimming, music, animals and socialising.

[He feels like he should share too, since L did.]

You should find something better to occupy your hands with. Here.

[Connor pulls a coin from his pocket and rolls it across his knuckles.]

I use this to calibrate my cognitive and physical functions. I also enjoy just playing with it.

[He flicks it from one hand to another, then holds it out for L to take.]

You try.

[hearthebell]

[It's... not really what L expected to hear from an android. But then, neither was "I like dogs." He's not sure why "music" is the most surprising to him; he himself struggles to enjoy it, usually considering it distracting noise from the thoughts that require analytical consideration and attention, foremost.]

What kind of music?

[His brow is furrowed as he takes the coin. His skinny fingers turn it, reflecting the light, recognizing it as something shiny that a mer would enjoy inherently. He's silent for a second.]

I like The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock. And lighthouses.

[plasticasshole]

Oh, I like all kinds of music. I'm familiar with heavy metal, which I enjoy, but I think I like the violin more. I've been learning to play it.

[Connor gestures to the coin.]

Try rolling it across your fingers. You'll find it's a much better distraction than pulling on your hair.

[hearthebell]

[Pulling on his hair is soothing for the same reason picking and biting at his fingertips and nails is; the sensations are grounding, give him focus and weight to lend his scattering attention toward.

Connor's own focus reminds him that he is communicating with an android, and not some pompous, ridiculous psychiatrist whose entire goal is cracking L's skull open like a walnut. His own professed likes are perhaps mundane enough that they didn't warrant comment, or perhaps it simply isn't in Connor's programming to process their potential simplicity or complexity; either way, L is relieved to let them crumble like powdered glass to sand, and return the focus to where it belongs.

He begins to practice. He can tell it's one of those particular fidgets that is second nature once it's learned, but perhaps difficult to coax to that point.]

Most people would say that heavy metal and classical music are on the opposite ends of a spectrum.

[Both are, in the end, kind of just distracting noise to L.]

Have you only recently broadened your scope, in this regard? Not just learning, but listening, as well?

[plasticasshole]

I never used to listen to music, really. I heard it, but never enjoyed it for what it was. I think it must be because of my Monster changes that I grew to appreciate it more here.

[He always wanted to listen to music though, even before he fully deviated. Which is odd, because machines don’t want anything.]

I don’t think I would have picked up the violin back in Detroit.

[Connor pulls out yet another coin and spins it on the tip of his finger, letting it hop effortlessly from his index to his middle finger. He doesn’t even look at what he’s doing as he does it.]