Ask the Andersons

I have several asks in the inbox that I never gotten to in months with school and all. At the moment, I want to focus on resting and trying to finish up prompt requests for my main blog since I have a few weeks before I have to go back in January.

Once again, I apologize for the lack of activity recently. Thanks for understanding.

Sincerely,

Rose.

“Yes, we have,” Connor responded as he cleared his throat in preparation of a lengthy explanation. “He was assigned to Gavin only a week ago. He was originally designed to be my successor to... t-to replace me...” His voice shrank and took on a shaken undertone at the mere thought.

Hank, who had plopped down onto the couch shortly before they have received the question, quickly took note of the android’s sudden, emotional change and circled an arm around his waist, pulling him into a warm side-hug. “Easy there, son. Don’t forget to breathe.”

Doing as he was told, Connor inhaled deeply through his nose and slowly exhaled through his mouth before returning to the anonymous query. “Of course, Gavin was anything other than happy to have received the news of having him for a partner, despite the fact that his opinion pertaining to androids has increased ever since he had befriended Hank and me. Caleb—that’s what we’ve named the RK900—was built with a program that was supposed to be more resistant to deviating. Yet, to our surprise, he became deviant himself. One evening, after concluding a homicide case, I was walking to the car, only to find myself being attacked by a group of anti-android activists. Caleb found me and he fended them off; he saved me. That was the very moment he became a deviant.”

“Connor, who are you talking to?”

The indicated android raised his head at the acknowledgment and peered over his shoulder to meet the gaze of another android, who appeared to be strikingly resemblant to Connor as far as visage, apart from the slight height difference and contrasting eye colors:

Caleb.

"Connor isn’t usually the type to sleep in. Most of the time, he’s up and about the house at the ungodly hour of five in the morning. Even though the kid has a computer for a brain, it’s still downright unnatural. Although...” Hank paused in the middle of his explanation to allow a devilish smirk to creep upon his lips. “...that isn’t to say that he doesn’t sleep in every now and then. When it isn’t because he’s studying case files, it’s usually because he stays up half the night, watching dog videos. And last night was one of those nights.”

With that, Hank lifted himself from the couch and onto his feet, carefully making his way to Connor’s bedroom, where the android lie in slumber. He slowly turned the knob and quietly stepped into dimmed space before marveling at the sight before him:

Connor lay beneath his comforter, curling in on himself from the warmth provided to him from his sheets and softness of his twin-sized mattress. A tranquil cerulean LED gently flickered on at a moderate tempo as it would when he was experiencing a resting cycle. His usually immaculate hair had become slightly disarrayed and a soft, lopsided smile plastered his facial structure. as if he were in the middle of a pleasant dream.

Hank proceeded toward the dozing deviant slowly, lest he would stir him from his rest too soon before he could try to wake him as planned. As he got closer, however, the mere prospect of Connor sleeping away warmed his heart. He almost hated even taking up on the idea of rudely awakening him.

Keyword: almost.

Now standing at the right side of the bed, Hank peeled the blanket to where his torso was uncovered, lightly tucking the covers underneath the unconscious android to prevent him from wriggling out easily. He lowered his hands and curled them upon each of the top-covered sides before he proceeded to gently squeeze and tweak them at a light, yet fairly quick, pace, smiling as the android began to giggle softly in his slumber. “Wakey, wakey, Connor~” He whispered teasingly.

Connor, in response, weakly swung a hand in the air as if he were trying to shoo the ticklish sensations away, though not fully aware of what was going on with the world around him. He even gave off a noise that seemed to sound like a ‘no’ in a tired, whiney moan in the midst of his sleepy titters, making the man clench his teeth in an attempt to stifle a laugh of his own.

“Yeees~” The lieutenant droned, mimicking the childlike tone his android son had simulated. “Now, C'mon! Up and at ‘em!”

Another adolescent mewl rose from the deviant’s voice box, still refusing to get up, despite the ongoing pinches being administered to his flanks.

With a pretentious exasperated sigh, Hank had retracted his hands and threw them in the air as if he were giving up. “Well, aren’t you just stubborn! You know what? Fine, I’ll let you sleep...” He drawled out his ‘surrender’, only to suddenly slip his hands beneath the kid’s casual tee, resting his poised fingertips directly on top of his toned stomach, keeping them still. “...but the tickle monster ain’t having it!” His fingers took off without sparing even a second upon concluding his words, nails gently scratching as they frantically spidered along the synthetic skin, crooning softly as he did so. “Wakey, wakey, wakey, Connie!~”

In an instant, Connor’s eyes flew open, slightly widening at the maddening sensations coursing throughout his sensitive torso, thus causing his soft, sleepy titters to shift to vigilant, nearly hysterical laughter. “Ahahahahaaa! Hahahank, nohohoho! I’m awahahahaake!” He exclaimed through the occasional squeals and squeaks that intertwined with his fits of laughter, his reflexive struggles and squirms only helping him in becoming entangled within his comforter.

Hank merely offered a dark chuckle to the halfhearted protests, raising the thin shirt up to his chest to provide himself with more access to the quivering tummy. “Hank’s not here anymore. You’re talkin’ to the tickle monster now! And he’s feelin’ hungry! Mmmm, that tummy of yours looks very tastyyy!~”

“Eek! N-No, wait! Nohohoho!”

Hank quirked an eyebrow at the particular asks displayed before him and Connor, who slowly turned to shoot him a devilish smirk filled with intent. Throwing a stern warning glare at the other’s direction, the man began to shuffle to the far end of the couch, only to be followed with the same slow pace. “Connor, don’t you fuckin’ dare!”

“But, Hank, I can’t just deny these users an opportunity to witness this little... experiment. Besides, you seem to enjoy raspberries~” Connor crooned with a playful predatory grin as he slowly crawled towards the evading lieutenant, blinking with false innocence. “Now, I suggest you surrender and lie down so that we could get this done. You are only required to endure just one raspberry, just below your lower ribs.”

“The hell I’m letting you get close enough to do it!” Hank barked, managing to conceal even the tiniest snicker or faintest blush at the very thought of the android’s lips vibrating against the particular area he dreaded.

Connor’s eyebrows raised at the brash retort as if awestruck by the man’s refusal to cooperate. “I see you refuse to cooperate. If that is the case...” He paused to grasp at the fleshy ankles and yank the grizzled cop down onto his back, quickly scrambling onto his legs in order to decrease his chances of escaping. “...so be it. That won’t stop me from running this experiment~” He purred with such wickedness, surprising Hank with just how teasing he could be when given an opportunity. After raising the man’s tee, he slowly lowered his head toward the pudgy torso, never breaking eye-contact with him.

“Connor, no! I swear to God, if you don’t get the fuck away from me, there’s gonna be hell to pay! C-Connor! You really don’t need to do this! C’mon, this is humiliatIIING!” Hank’s protests were ceased by his own shriek just as Connor had all but struck his side with a harsh raspberry, his lips positioned onto the expanse just below his ribcage. The booming shriek was followed by his raucous cackling along with a sporadic snort as he gently pushed at the android’s head, managing to throw Connor off with a rough buck, sending him crashing to the floor. “Shit!” He exclaimed through his residual giggles. While trying to compose himself, he looked over to the floored deviant, regretting his involuntary action. “Are you okay!?”

In response, Connor fell onto his back in a fit of amused giggles, reaching up as if to wipe a tear away. “I-I don’t think I ever heard that before! For a moment, I was worried that my aural processors would have been damaged by the frequency of your shriek!”

“Perhaps,” Connor replied with a cheeky wink, arrayed on his back on top of the sofa cushions in a casual display as he waited for his secret plot to unfold.

The prototype might or might not have intruded the bathroom shortly after rising from his nightly rest to pour a particular substance into Hank’s shampoo. He may have even stirred the disturbing ingredient into the hair product thoroughly to where it seemed to be unaffected by the mysterious matter. And it was a possibility that the android had managed to complete his objective and escape before Hank would have woken up hours later, leaving him to revel in his soon-to-be results.

The faint sound of running water ceasing had filled the deviant with a gleeful, fizzing feeling within his mechanical core. The ten-minute-period of Hank’s shower had felt like hours to Connor, who began to feel small giggles bubbling within his chest and seemed unable to sit still in anticipation of the reaction he would receive.

And not a moment later, Connor was able to hear horror-filled yell followed by an irked cry out to his name. In the midst of his anticipatory giggles, the deviant looked up to see Hank, who had all but stormed out of the bathroom in his bathrobe, his hair dyed with a bright, fluorescent blue. Seeing the bold color in the older man’s hair caused him to erupt in loud, amused laughter, much to the lieutenant’s irritation.

“The fuck is this!?” Hank roared, referring to his new hair color with his pointer finger. “Did you put fuckin’ hair dye in my goddamn shampoo!?” He clenched his teeth as he received a stream of hysterical giggles, greatly irritated by the android’s act. 

“S-Surprise?” Connor managed to offer in between his laughs, hugging himself around the waist as he did so.

“That’s not fuckin’ funny, ya asshole! Your little stunt made me look like a goddamn idiot!”

Managing to compose himself to small snorts and snickers, Connor slowly lifted himself into a sitting position to meet the fuming gaze, wiping away any mirthful artificial tears that gathered in the corner of his eyes. “I must disagree with your statement, Lieutenant. I believe that particular shade of blue is a good look on you.”

Hank’s silver brows knitted together and slanted down to further display his agitation. If looks could kill, Connor would have already been reduced to a pile of ash and smoldering wires. “Oh, I’ll get you for this, Connor. Don’t worry, I will not forget.”

“I’m certain you will, and I’d like to offer your endeavors with the best of luck,” Connor replied without even a trace of regret, nodding nonchalantly. 

With his LED flicker yellow and circling in search for puns, Connor smirked with intent before the gold morphed back his usual cyan. So, he rose from the couch and strode into the kitchen to find Hank seated at the small table at the rightmost of the room, a cup of coffee in hand.

Hank, who became aware of his android of a son’s presence, set his brewed beverage onto the tabletop and looked up at him with a small, yet warm, smile. “Mornin’, Connor.” He greeted, his voice slightly hoarse after hours of precious sleep.

“Good morning, Hank,” Connor returned the pleasantry, mirroring the human’s smile as he approached the table. “I see you have a Hank-ering for some caffeine.” He stated jestfully, putting emphasis on hankering to refer to his partner’s name as he pulled a chair and plopped himself into it.

The smile immediately fell from Hank’s face, and he narrowed his eyes at the android in a nearly scolding glare. He slowly raised his free hand to point a stern finger at the prototype. “Connor, no.” He chastised in a low timbre, his silver brows furrowing.

With a wry smirk tugging at his lips, Connor looked straight into the piercing, grey-blue eyes with a sparkle of mischief lingering in his own deep brown. “I’m surprised that you’ve decided to wake up early this morning, considering how you’re always one to be latte.”

“Connor...”

“You’re right, Hank. We should be discussing more important factors. If the FBI augmented its postal posters of the 10 Most Wanted by painting the information on coffee containers and dispensing them, would you drink your morning coffee from a mug with the mug of a mugger?”

Hank and Connor peered at the anonymous question that was addressed to the both of them, then slowly turned to face each other with concealed mischief glimmering in their eyes.

“Maybe we will, maybe we won’t,” Hank stated casually - or perhaps too casually - with a delusively conceding grin.

Connor’s eyelids lightly fluttered with faux innocence, a falsely angelic smile playing at his lips. “We’ve agreed to cease pranking each other for the time being, considering the events of our recent prank war.”

“Let’s just say that things kinda got a little... out of hand last time we did this,” Hank replied simply, folding his arms over his chest in contemplation of a prank war involving tickling.

“Hank and I have had our fair share of tickle-related prank wars. which often end in a draw,” Connor explained from his upright sitting position on the couch, his legs folded across each other in an Indian sitting style as he fiddled with his fingers. “However, that does not mean that we don’t like to participate in such an activity. I’ve once constricted Hank to his bed with multiple layers of plastic wrap - which covered his legs and arms to prevent any means of escaping - and tickled his stomach and ribs for quite a while.”

Hank belted out a dry, sarcastic laugh in response to the android’s smug attitude. “Haha, you’re a regular ol‘ comedic genius, Connor. You remember the time I laid out a piece of wood with a heavy-duty magnet in front of your door? Couldn’t even try to get away with your feet stuck to the damn thing!” He chuckled at the semi-annoyed bore he received. “Aww, don’t give me that look. You thought I wouldn’t get you back after that little stunt you pulled? I’ll have you know that I was the king of pranks, back in my day.”

“Then, I bid that you may be losing your touch,” Connor teased, his sassiness kicking into his program once more.

Connor glanced at the laptop that sat atop the coffee table and smiled at the question, lightly scratching Sumo’s head, which lay in his lap, as the three sat atop the living room sofa. “Dogs tend to be very playful with their owners, so, yes, Sumo does provide assistance with tickling from time to time.”

Connor hummed to himself in thought as he glanced from the question to Hank, who returned the mischievous gleam with a warning glare. “Come to think of it, I never took the opportunity to do so much as touch his feet. However, a lot of humans happen to be immensely ticklish on their feet so it could be a possibility.”

“Connor, don’t even fuckin’ think about it,” Hank warned with a threatening scowl.

Instead of heeding to the warning, Connor swiftly reached for his ankles and wrapped them into a secure hold with an arm, Hank slipping onto his back as he was dragged across the couch. “Are you trying to conceal the fact that you might have ticklish feetsies, Lieutenant?~” He crooned childishly.

“You’re wastin’ your time! I’m not- Gahahahahaa! C-Cohohonnohohor!” Hank’s protests were cut short just as Connor took his free hand and began to gently spider his artificial fingernails along his soles, light and fast, causing him to snort and burst into peels of cackles. “Fuhuhuckin’ stohohop!”