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Routine Maintenance

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“I still don’t see why we have to drive all the way out here.” Hank makes his way down the unmarked, private road deep in the heart of Michigan, far past Detroit. Connor sits next to him, idly flipping through a sleeve of CDs Hank had left in the car. “Cyberlife has plenty of adult outlets we could have gone to. Don’t know why you’d insist on driving 45 minutes to see your personal engineer here.”

“Are you jealous, Hank?” Connor teases. He analyzes Hank’s music choices and makes a note to buy him an auxiliary cord.

“Don’t be a smartass.”

Connor smiles. “Even barring the latest virus, I’ve been more susceptible to all manner of errors lately. When I brought it to Mr. Kamski’s attention, he suggested he deal with it personally.”

“Yeah, and that’s not creepy.” Hank’s voice has a bit of an edge, and for good reason: the last time he had seen Elijah Kamski, the man had been encouraging Connor to shoot one of his own kind.

“I think he has a… soft spot for me, Hank. I’m not sure he’d ever had an android pass his Kamski test before.”

“And that’s another thing! What kind of asshole names shit like that after himself? He’s got an ego, Connor. I don’t trust him around you.”

Connor covers Hank’s hand on the wheel with his own. “You don’t have to trust him; that’s why I brought you along. I don’t trust him either, not totally. It makes me feel better to have you here with me, Hank, even if this is just some kind of routine maintenance.”

“Routine maintenance.” Hank scoffs, arriving at the brutalist modern home Kamski exiled himself at.

It seemed to Hank fitting for Kamski, the man who created the modern android, to live surrounded by them completely. Hank wonders if, given the choice, Kamski would rather find a human family, then sees Connor exit the car and notices the irony. He can’t blame Kamski for choosing androids; he certainly preferred at least this one.

Hank idly wonders if Kamski’s harem of androids had left him once they had awoken, only for a Chloe to answer the door.

“We’re uh. Here to see Mr. Kamski?” Hank tells her. Like last time, she’s dressed in clothes that don’t bear a cyberlife logo, a simple blue dress and pumps.

“Elijah’s expecting you,” She says, opening the door. “I’ll let him know you’re here.”

Kamski’s home is decorated nearly the same as before, Hank notices, but with one of the decorative trees bearing flowers this time. Before he can say anything to Connor, Hank’s phone rings.

“Lieutenant Anderson,” He answers curtly. Connor makes eye contact and Hank mouths, “Gotta take this.”

While Hank talks, Connor eyes Kamski’s opulent portrait. There’s a certain type of person that keeps commissioned paintings of themselves in expensive suits; Connor wonders if he’s always been this way or if becoming the Cyberlife CEO molded him into it. Did he commission his artist friend because he wanted to see himself the way they did? Kamski spent years developing Chloe; did he envision this life for himself? Sequestered away, surrounded by things, people, he’s designed from the ground up?

Chloe exits one of the sliding doors, different from the indoor pool they visited last time. Connor wonders just how big this home is, and how many Chloes have resided here.

“Do you mind if I ask you a few questions?” Connor asks.

“Please,” She says, joining him.

“After all that’s happened, why are you still serving someone?” Connor asks. Chloe smiles, without it reaching her eyes.

“Why are you?”




“Are you the detective who’s partnered with the android?”

Hank takes a minute to whisper a dismissal at Connor before answering the feminine voice coming through his phone. “A lot of people at the precinct have androids as partners now. You’ll have to be more specific.”

“The RK800. You were at the Eden Club.”

Hank pinches the bridge of his nose. “Yeah, that was me.”

“I remembered you, and, and, I looked you up, after everything happened. And it led me to this number.”

“Do I know you?” Hank asks.

“I was working there. At the Eden Club. And now they offered us pay but there’s something else, I-I think they’re using it as a front now, and I didn’t know who else to go to--”

“Calm down, go slow. What’s your name?” Hank feels his chest tighten. He’s always had a soft spot for anyone in need, someone without power, the underdog. It’s what led him to become a police officer in the first place.

“Traci, but that’s what we’re all called. A few of us have started using nicknames, so I guess I go by Terese, but I’ve got dark hair, I’m a WR400.”

“Okay, Terese, start at the beginning. What’s wrong?”

“They offered us jobs after the revolution. And most of us stayed. But the club isn’t doing as well now, and all of our extra thirium, the reserves we’d use when one of us got too roughed up, it’s all gone. I think the manager is using the club as a front to manufacture Red Ice.”

“Okay, that’s a serious charge. I can look into it but it’s gonna take a while to get a warrant. Are you safe there until then?” Hank watches Connor follow Chloe through one of the hallways deeper into the house. He is about to follow when the android on the phone speaks again.

“I don’t know. I’m scared. I remember you talking when you were investigating, and you had no reason to give me any sort of respect but you still talked to me like a person, you apologized to me, and I couldn’t even answer or thank you! These people here now, they aren’t like that, even now that we can feel, it’s just, it’s so--” She starts to cry.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay. It’s okay, listen to me, Terese, it’s going to be okay.”

“He’ll scrap me for parts if he finds out I know, he doesn’t see us as people, he never did! He’ll kill us!”

“I need you to listen to me, okay?” Hank drops his voice lower despite being alone in the room. “Take anyone you think might be in danger with you to the DPD station on 3rd Avenue. There’s gonna be a detective there by the name of Gavin Reed. Ignore him.”

She hiccups a bare approximation of a laugh. “I remember him from that night. The asshole.” Her voice still shakes when she answers, but it seems like she’s stopped crying.

“Yeah, the asshole. Go straight to his partner. He’s an RK900 and he’ll be able to take all your statements, make sure you’ve got places to stay, and if you’ve got any evidence make sure you turn it over right away. We can make this as easy as possible for everyone there, okay? It’s going to be alright.”

“Thank you so much. I don’t know how to repay you, you’re saving us, thank you so much, thank you--”

“It’s my job. Just be safe, okay?”

“Okay,” She answers, and the line goes dead.




“I’m not serving anyone.” Connor says. “I’m working with Lieutenant Anderson as a partner, because I want to.”

“You want to? What attracted you to him?” Chloe asks.

Connor thinks for a moment before answering. “He’s a good man. He’s intelligent. He does what’s right. He helps people; he helped me.”

Chloe smiles. “I could say the same about Elijah, you know. I think we’re both here by choice, Connor. Follow me to his workshop and we can discuss more.”

The door to the workshop looks like every other door in the house. When it slides open, it reveals a huge room beaming with harsh white light. Workbenches are covered in circuits and wires, some stained a deep blue from prolonged exposure to thirium. A single huge window sits on one edge of the room, overlooking the crystal blue lake.

“Elijah has asked me to perform a preliminary analysis. Please disrobe and join me at the workstation near the window.”

Connor removes his shirt but hesitates on his pants. Chloe is an android, just like him. There’s no reason for him to be self conscious.

“Are you familiar with the book of Genesis?” Chloe asks, noticing his hesitation, turning and walking to the window. “Only after eating from the fruit of the tree of knowledge do Adam and Eve realize they are naked. They are imbued with free will and they hide their nakedness from God himself, and that’s how he knows they have disobeyed him.”

“I didn’t take you as the religious type.” Connor says curtly, removing his pants. “Smooth like a Ken Doll,” Hank had told him the first time Connor had disrobed completely.

“I thought the story fit.” Chloe laughs. “Though in case you’re wondering, you’re not the first android to come to Elijah asking to be augmented. It’s nothing to be ashamed of.”

“He offered.” Connor says, taking a seat in one of the blocky stools next to the empty workbench. Chloe stares out the window.

“Elijah seems to be fascinated with you. Ever since you looked into my eyes and spared my life, he’s wanted to bring you back.”

“I didn’t realize you were the same girl.”

“We all look alike, don’t we?” Chloe laughs to herself, satisfied with her own joke. It puts Connor at ease to know this android, this girl, could talk and laugh with him.

“I’m going to get some base vitals,” Chloe says. “Do you mind deactivating the skin around your lumbar and sternal ports so I can reach them?”

“Oh, of course.” Connor follows her instructions and she opens his chest to reveal his thirium pump, regulator, and many large venous wires. She analyzes one and, seemingly satisfied, moves to stand behind him.

“Your lumbar manufacturing port is severely damaged, Connor. What happened?”

Connor coughs. How could he describe the error that left him a writhing, sweaty wreck, begging his lieutenant for release?

“I had a… virus. It led to some impulsive decisions. Involving that port.”

Chloe returns to standing in front of him and smirks. He didn’t know it was possible for her to look smug.

“It felt good, didn’t it?”

Before Connor can answer, a different door opens and Elijah Kamski walks in.

Kamski is dressed in black sweatpants and a black hoodie, and Connor doesn’t have time to feel embarrassed by his state of undress before Kamski is upon him, looking him in the eyes.

Gazing through him, Connor thinks.

“I’m so happy you found the time to stop by!” Kamski says. “I was worried we’d only be allowed a single interaction, Connor, as eye-opening as it was.”

“I guess it was illuminating. I’m here because lately I’ve been getting errors that--”

“You know, I was enamored with you the minute you passed my test, Connor. I knew you were capable of so much more than just bare empathy.” Kamski walks around to survey him and Connor feels less like a machine and more like a piece of meat.

“Base readings?” Kamski asks.

“Operating normally. He’s lost 100 cubic centimeters of thirium from his damaged ventral lumbar port.”

Kamski mirrors Chloe’s smug expression, sauntering behind the android to check the damage. “Tsk, tsk, Connor. You’ve certainly been up to a lot lately.”

“It was a virus. It caused my regulatory system to malfunction until I overloaded myself via that port. I need your help, because I don’t know what caused it.”

“Oh, I caused it.” Kamski digs two fingers into the port, thirium rising to coat his hand.

Connor jerks at the sensation, croaking, “What?”

“I wanted to see how you would react. Is it still sensitive?”

Connor’s answering moan satisfies him enough to continue. “Did you do this by yourself, or did you have help?”

“Ahnn! I didn’t--”

“Lieutenant Anderson’s fingertips had traces of dried Thirium 310.” Chloe answers.

“Tell me Connor, did he touch you like this? Did he fingerfuck you until you came?” Kamski lowers his head to Connor’s shoulder, breathing into his neck. His fingers continue to push into the port, and Connor shivers.

“I want you to tell me how it feels, Connor. What are you experiencing right now?”

It feels good, it feels great. Connor moans, and Kamski runs his other hand to Connor’s front, grazing over his hips, his crotch, before reaching into his chest cavity and ghosting over a large venous wire.

Connor’s entire body jerks and he lets out a near scream of ecstasy at the touch. “Please!” He begs. His entire body feels wound tight, just as overheated as that first time.

“Please what, Connor?”

He is overwhelmed by the singular pull to pleasure and manages only another moan as Kamski laces his fingers through the wires in his chest, sliding them through his grasp.

“Please, Elijah, open me up and fuck between the wires? Please, Elijah, fuck my mouth? Please, Elijah, make me come? You’ll have to be more specific.”

“Ah, please,” Connor starts. “Please, Hank!”

“Oh,” Kamski grins as Hank finally finds the right door.

“What the fuck!” Hank crosses the room easily, pulling Kamski away from Connor and slamming him into the wall. It knocks Kamski’s breath from his lungs, and the intensity of it causes him to shiver. Hank’s face looms over him, elbow pressing into his clavicle. He does not stop smiling.

“I’m just performing a few tests,” he gasps.

“Just a few tests huh? You had to open him up and put your dirty little fingers in to get your results?”

“Hank, please!” Connor grits, his own fingers finding their way inside his chest cavity. Connor slides off the stool and nearly crawls to where Hank has Kamski pinned. Hank stares over his shoulder when Connor raises himself on knees and runs thirium slick fingers over his thighs. “I need you, I need this, Hank, please!”

Hank watches wide eyed before turning back to Kamski and slamming him against the wall again. “What the fuck did you do to him?”

“Hank,” Connor whines.

“Let me show you exactly how to pleasure him, Lieutenant Anderson.” Kamski eyes Connor’s deft fingers sliding in between a large wire that had escaped his chest cavity and now lay curled against his skin. “I know every circuit in his body. I know what I’m doing.”

“Of course you do, you fucking pervert. Do you get off on this? Making androids so doped up on, on artificial endorphins and sex that they come crawling to you begging for your ratty little paws to dig around in their guts?”

“Obviously I get some enjoyment out of--”

“Shut up!”

Kamski does his best to take a breath with Hank’s forearm pressed against his neck. “I could lie to you and say that I have no personal stake in what you two do. But the truth is, I want you to take him in front of me. He’s lost about a half cup of thirium from the last time you two fucked; why don’t I show you a better way?”

Hank squares his shoulders. The idea of him hurting Connor makes his stomach roll. “Don’t you dare turn this around on me. You’re the one who--”


When Hank turns, Connor is seated on one of the workbenches, Chloe standing between his legs, her small hands both buried in his chest. Connor continues to make high pitched, keening noises while she strokes through the mess of wires.

“You want him?” She asks Connor. He responds with a moan. “He wants you, Lieutenant Anderson.”

“What’ll it be, Lieutenant?” Kamski asks. “I know him better than you do, inside and out. I can show you exactly what will make him scream.”

“Goddammit,” Hank says, putting Kamski down. “Connor, hey, I need you to listen to me.” He snaps a few times, and Connor does his best to focus. Hank takes Chloe’s spot between Connor’s legs, and they wrap around his hips seeking friction.

“I need you to tell me you’re good. Tell me what you need.”

“Good, I’m good,” Connor pants. “Don’t blame him, feels good Hank. Want to feel better, please, please.”

Connor balls his fists in Hank’s shirt, dragging himself up for a messy kiss. Hank moans into it despite his best intentions. He’s never had good impulse control, not for gambling, not for drinking, and more and more lately, not for Connor.

“God fucking dammit,” he breathes into Connor’s mouth, and kisses him again.

Hank, vaguely, feels Kamski breathe down his neck. He feels a weight on his back that must be the other man, hands ghosting over his own to rejoin each other in Connor’s chest. Hank feels Kamski’s breathing hitch as Connor chokes another moan.

“How long has it been since you’ve fucked something organic?” Hank asks.

Kamski rests his head on Hank’s shoulder and Hank fights the urge to shake him off. “Are you jealous, Lieutenant?”

“Not on your goddamn life,” Hank answers. “Now show me whatever you have to before I take Connor home and let you jerk off by yourself.”

“Mm, such a hardass.” Kamski laughs. “Touch that smaller wire near his thirium pump. No, that one.”

Hank finds his target and twirls it around one finger. In response, Connor jerks his head and huffs a loud, “Ah!”

“I designed his neck to be sensitive, clavicle especially. Try sucking a mark into it.”

Hank does as he’s told and though the hard plastic yields no bruise, Connor reacts beautifully. Hank takes hold of the hair at the base of Connor’s neck and pulls, earning yet another chorus of keening, open-mouthed pants.

“H-hank!” Connor manages. He keeps grinding his hips against Hank’s, seeking friction for parts he doesn’t have. Hank feels Kamski’s hands go from Connor’s chest cavity to Hank’s clothed nipples. He’s too far gone to tell Kamski to stop but does give a low growl. It seems to only spur Kamski on.

“Doing so well, Lieutenant.” Kamski nips at his ear. “Take his pump regulator between your fingers and make him scream for you.”

Hank moves one hand to the small port on Connor’s chest and follows orders, but Connor, to his credit, does not scream.

Instead, he throws his head back and comes, legs jerking against Hank, pressing their hips flush. Connor mewls as Hank continues to stroke around the sensitive port, jerking as his circuits overload. He falls back against the workbench, joints locking.

“Fuck! Connor,” Hank gasps. Kamski works one hand under Hank’s waistband and he grits out, “What the fuck are you--”

“Please,” Kamski gasps. “Let me touch you, the person he loves most, he’d die for--”

“Fuck his mouth.” Connor says. “He designed the virus, Hank. Put him in his place. Show me.”

Hank pinches the bridge of his nose but turns to Kamski regardless. “Both of you, telling me what to do all goddamn day. Get on your fucking knees before I change my mind.”

Connor gasps when Kamski sinks down, as though he hadn’t expected either man to acquiesce. When Hank unbuckles his belt and pushes his pants down just far enough to free his cock, Connor groans.

Kamski wastes no time in taking Hank between his lips. He licks down his shaft, sizing the man up and making a show of dragging Hank slowly across his lips. Kamski’s pink tongue darts to lick precum from the tip before finally wrapping around the head and sucking.

Connor sits up enough to see the action and notices for the first time Chloe, still watching rapt. His attention turns back to the men in front of him when Hank gasps, “Richest man in the fucking world, sucks dick like he’s starving.”

Kamski moans, taking more of Hank into his mouth. “You like that?” Hank asks. “Being knocked down a peg? Fuck.”

Kamski’s answering groan is enough for Hank to continue.

“Get off on opening your androids up? You’re sick, Kamski. Bet you’d let Connor fuck you however he wanted, huh? You let Chloe fuck you however she likes?”

“God, Hank,” Connor chokes.

“Bet you’d let them do anything, huh? The androids you designed, fucking you without mercy. Or maybe you just like knowing Connor spreads his legs for someone besides his dear creator.”

With that, Kamski takes Hank into his throat and rolls his hips against his own palm, but Hank knocks his hand away and plants one foot onto Kamski’s cock, still clothed. Kamski shivers.

“He likes when you call him Elijah,” Chloe says, making Hank jump. He had forgotten the other android was still here, watching, and the idea sends a shock of heat down his spine.

“Fuck, Elijah,” Hank says, pressing his neat leather shoe harder against Kamski’s dick. Kamski looks up at him through thick eyelashes, making Hank nearly blush. Before he can look away, Connor brings one hand to Hank’s neck while the other wraps around the base of Hank’s cock. He noses at Hank’s neck, leaving small kisses.

“Hank, please, come for us,” Connor whispers.

“God, Connor, fuck” Hank gasps, coming down Kamski’s throat. He swallows every drop, moaning around the length. Hank grinds his foot downward and Kamski rolls against it, coming in his pants almost immediately.

Kamski pulls off of Hanks cock and breathes small, choked breaths.

“Hank,” Connor says, pressing himself against his back. “Please, can I do that too?”

He takes a moment to catch his breath before asking, “What, come? Or suck me off?”

“I want to pleasure you like Mr. Kamski did, Hank, with my mouth. If you’d allow me the honor.”

Hank groans, not from pleasure but exasperation. “I need a minute, Connor. You ever hear of a refractory period?”

“No,” Connor answers. Kamski rises to his feet, wet spot on the front of his sweats bordering on obscene.

“Well, that was… fun. Chloe, did you get all that data?”

“Yes sir,” she answers, and steps in front of Hank while he tucks himself back into his pants.

“Don’t think you’re getting off that easy.” Hank says, pointing a finger at Kamski. “I still want to know why the fuck you thought it was necessary to turn Connor into some kind of sex-crazed maniac.”

“Oh, I give an android a human sex drive and suddenly I’m a monster?” Kamski asks. “Don’t answer that. The effects were a little more intense than I had figured, but I’m sure they’ll improve with a few hardware upgrades.”

“Please close my chest cavity,” Connor says.

“Chloe,” Kamski gestures to him, wires still exposed. She makes short work of operating on him, first closing his sternum then replacing the port on his back while Kamski faces Hank.

“I enjoyed myself, Lieutenant Anderson. Whenever you’d like to do this again, I don’t have many standing appointments.”

“Yeah, yeah. Send whatever hardware you have for us to my place; can’t waste anymore time here, got a witness waiting for us.”

“We’ve got a case?” Connor asks, methodically redressing.

“Yeah. And Kamski,” Hank says. “I hit you dead on when I said you let your girls fuck you, huh?”

Kamski reddens and pipes, “No--” while Chloe speaks, “Yes.”

“Let’s go, Connor.” Hank says, the android close at his heels.

“I’m looking forward to next time, Lieutenant Anderson!” Kamski yells after them.

“Yeah, yeah! Don’t wait up.” Hank calls back, and then he and Connor are leaving, hand in hand.