Another day, another royal ball. That’s how it felt to Oliver, being the youngest son in the royal family. There was always a ball for something or other. The upside, for Oliver at least, was that there was always good food. And, now that he was a bit older, he also realized it was a good way to tell who was on good terms with who, and what the latest trends were.

As he looked around, Oliver took note of the fashion in the room. Long skirts, tight waists (even tighter than last time, it seemed), and the occasional oversized rear area. He also took note of who was sitting with who. There seemed to be clusters of people sitting or standing together. Women were sitting at the tables in the back, drinking and chatting about who knows what. Men were standing in dense circles in the middle of the tables, with drinks in their hands as well, but upon closer inspection, the drinks had not been touched in quite a while. Some people were dancing to the live music as well, which made it feel more like a ball and less like a town hall.

Oliver and his family sat at the front of the hall. There were two large thrones for his mother and father, and then two more smaller thrones on either side for Oliver and his sisters. There was also a table farther in front of them with food, but Oliver knew they weren’t to eat it without invitation from someone else in the room.

Which is why he was so relieved when a young lady approached them at last. She curtsied to his mother and father before giving another one to his sisters on the left and him and his other sister on the right. “Good evening, your royal highnesses,” she greeted. The queen gave a warm smile. The king looked as if he couldn’t be bothered. “Good evening, young lady. How do you do?” The queen replied. “I am well, thank the gods. How do you do?” The young lady seemed like she had done this before, but Oliver noticed that she still seemed nervous behind her guise of confidence. “We are all doing well. I’m sure you do wish us well, but what is your business?” The queen expertly saw through the facade of well-wishing if there even was one. The young lady seemed a bit surprised, but a look of knowing took over. “I wanted to thank you for the invitation, but I also wanted to ask if Prince Oliver would be inclined to join me for a short while.”

Oliver tried not to show how happy he was as he stood from his throne and walked over to this young lady. As they turned away from his family, the lady gave a curtsy again. “To whom could I possibly owe the pleasure of saving me from that horrible prison?” Oliver joked. The young lady smiled with amusement. “My name is Flora Woodfallow. I hope it isn’t too terrible, sitting up there and watching us have all the fun!” “Oh, it’s absolutely awful. The absolute worst. Now, if I could ask you to invite me to eat so I could take something off of this platter, that would be delightful.” Flora obliged, and Oliver stacked a plate high with buns and meat and steamed vegetables. He didn’t dare turn to see what his mother’s face looked like, as he knew it would be disapproving.

The two of them sat at a table on the edge of the room, but still near to the dance floor--the closest area to the royal family. “So, what is this ball even for?” Oliver asked between bites of food, trying his best to be polite and proper while satiating his intense hunger. Flora gave a shocked sort of giggle. “You mean you don’t know? You’re a part of the royal family! We’re at your house!” “They don’t tell me these things. They just tell me to put on my best clothes and to be in the ballroom in an hour. All of the usual players are here, so I haven’t got a clue.”

As Flora was explaining, Oliver ate, and then they fell into an easy conversation. Though, as she spoke, Oliver noticed that there was a scent he had never smelled before. It was light, and floral with a touch of alcohol. He assumed it was some perfume, but it was beginning to bother him. To try to take the edge off, Oliver started to sniff and rub at his nose intermittently.

After a while, it seemed that Flora noticed, but she didn’t say anything. Meanwhile, for Oliver, the discomfort turned into a burning tickle in his nose that he was desperately trying to ignore. “Are you alright?” Flora finally asked. Oliver was surprised that she asked, seeing as she seemed content with giving not-so-subtle looks of worry. “I’m fine. I just think someone’s perfume is bothering me a touch.” Flora seemed satisfied with this answer, and shifted her position in her chair so she was closer to Oliver. All of a sudden, the tickle in Oliver’s nose that had been teasing and tickling came to a crest. He scrambled for his handkerchief and stuttered out an apology before sneezing into it. “P-pah!--pardon me--HH-IHSCHH! UH-SCHH!” Oliver rubbed at his nose through the handkerchief and the tickle seemed to subside, but Flora moved even closer in concern and the horrible, teasing tickle crested once again. “ESHIEW! ASCHOO! HAH! HAHSCHH!!” He could feel the kerchief getting a bit damp in his hand. Oliver rubbed at his nose once again and decided that the coast was clear enough to lower his hands from his face. “Please excuse me,” he asked of Flora. “I don’t know what came over me.” Flora gave him a pitying look. “Well,” she said, crossing her hands. “May the gods bless you.” Oliver nodded his thanks and they returned to their conversation.

As the night went on, Oliver felt himself getting more and more congested. A few times he excused himself to blow his nose, but it didn’t seem to help very much. Finally, the ball was nearly coming to a close, and Oliver excused himself from his seat. “Thank you for this wonderful evening,” He said to Flora. “However I must return to my seat at the front of the hall. May we meet again soon.” Oliver took her hand and planted a kiss on it. A courteous thing, but a stupid thing as well, as the wrist was a common place to apply perfume. The horrible tickle resurfaced with vengeance, and Oliver did everything he could to not sneeze. He speed-walked across the ballroom back to his seat, rubbing and pinching fiercely at his nose. When he returned to his throne, he took out his handkerchief and continued to scrub at his nose, desperate to not sneeze in front of all of these people who were now staring at him.

The king and queen stood to give their closing remarks. Oliver and his siblings were supposed to be watching with rapt attention, though Oliver was finding this quite difficult. He was gripping his throne so hard his knuckles were losing color. He just could not ignore the teasing tickle in his nose. It felt like a million little feathers slowly brushing the inside of his nose over and over again. With every passing moment it was getting harder and harder to ignore. Finally, the closing remarks had finished and there was some polite applause. Oliver knew that he couldn’t give in just yet, but he took this opportunity to scrub at his nose with his palm, uncaring of the faux pas it might have been.

It was a slow Friday afternoon at the precinct. People were ready to get off work and do whatever it is they do in their free time. Which also meant that people started preparing a little earlier. It was not the first time Connor had noticed someone come in with a little extra makeup than usual, or wearing a different type of shirt. Today was the first time, however, he noticed someone wearing a scent.

Before the modifications, he wouldn't have really noticed. Sure, he would have noticed the alteration in the air and the components of the scent, but it wouldn't have affected him. Now, though, he could smell the sweet scent from across the bullpen. He sniffled involuntarily.

A slight burning sensation began in the back of Connor's nose. He sniffled again.

"You alright?" Hank murmured from across the divider between their desks. Connor nodded, but Hank didn't turn back to his work. Connor looked up again and gave him an inquisitive look.

"You've got a little something right there," Hank said, pointing at the spot on his own face. Connor reached up and realized that his nose was running. Even though it was not real mucus, it was still pretty embarrassing. He swore he could feel the blush rising. Raising a hand to cover the lower half of his face, he excused himself and went to the bathroom.

Connor stood in front of the sinks, abusing his nose with rough paper towels from the dispenser. The burning sensation in the back of his nose had somewhat abated now that he was away from the bullpen, and he was able to get his nose under control.

Only a few minutes after returning to his desk, the burning came back with full force. Connor's nose began to run in earnest, and he was glad he grabbed a few extra paper towels on his way out. After a little while of this sniffle–sigh–rustle pattern that kept occurring every few seconds, Connor knew Hank would have something to say.

"Are you sure you're okay?" He turned to ask, eyes locking on Connor's reddening nose. Connor gave a nod.

"I'm fi–hih! Fine." His hand jerked up to rest under his nose, and he saw out of the corner of his eye that Hank had not completely refocused on his task.

Connor, though, was not focused at all. He was very intent on getting his nose under control. Which he soon realized, was not going to happen. His breath kept hitching (quietly, thank God) and he knew a sneeze was imminent.

"Hih! Heh–eh! Hah!"

He quickly reached for one of the paper towels just as the hitching reached its climax.

"Hih!...Ishiew! Ashiew!"

A murmur of "bless yous" came from anyone within earshot of Connor. He looked over at Hank but he had busied himself with work again.

A couple minutes later, the burning returned. Connor sighed and rubbed his nose. He had no idea what was causing this reaction and why he seemed to be the only one affected.

"Hh-shiew! Eshiew!" Coming much faster this time, Connor only had time to bring his hand up to cover rather than a paper towel. A few people around him blessed him as well.

But this time the sneezes barely even relieved the burning. It was still there and still uncomfortable. It was pretty distracting; Connor guessed that even if his work wasn't so dull today, he'd have a hard time concentrating with his nose acting the way it was.

"Eshiew! Hah! H'shiew!" Connor sneezed again, this time barely even having any time to cover. Hank turned around again.

"Ok, what is going on? This is not normal," Hank said, indicating Connor's entire face.

"I don't know," Connor replied, punctuated by a sniffle. He rubbed his nose again and made a disgusted expression when the action yielded snot on his finger. Hank rested his elbow on his desk and placed his chin on his hand, absently tapping with his fingers.

"Well it sounds like you've either got a cold, which I think is very unlikely, or you're allergic to something here." He voiced his thoughts out loud. Connor sniffled again.

"I don't think I'm allergic to anything–hih! though–! Aschiew! Hih! Heh! Hih–!" Connor barely got out the end of his sentence before the sneeze took over. However the second one never came, and he was stuck with a sneezy expression for a moment before a look of annoyance and disappointment replaced it. Hank looked like he was doing a poor job of holding back a smirk.

"As I was saying, you're allergic to something, and we should find out what." Hank sat back in his chair. "So let's think…what's different in here today?" Connor tried to relax a bit as well. Being tense wasn't going to help his helpless situation.

"Someone put on perfume or cologne after lunch today. That's the only thing I've noticed," Connor pointed out. With that he stifled a sneeze into absolute silence, placing a few fingers under his septum to give some aid.

"Bless," Hank wished. "Well, I'd suggest confronting whoever it is, but I know you would never dream of doing that. So why don't we call it early? It's Friday afternoon after all."

The duo decided to call it quits and packed their things up for the day. They were on their way out, saying their goodbyes, when they passed Tina's desk.

"Oh my God–" Connor choked out before he doubled over in a fit of silent stifles.

"Connor?" Hank and Tina both asked. Hank placed his hand on the small of Connor's back. Finally, it seemed that Connor couldn't stifle any longer.

"Ishiew! Ischiew! Hah! Aschiew!" There was barely any space between the sneezes to get a breath in, and Hank thought fleetingly how lucky Connor was that breathing wasn't a necessity for him. He ushered Connor away from Tina's desk and asked the nice receptionist android, Polly, to watch over him for a moment. When he returned to Tina's desk, she looked frustrated.

"You alright?" Hank asked.

"I wish I could have helped," she said exasperatedly. Hank shrugged.

"You wearing perfume?" He asked. She nodded. Then, a look of horrified realization dawned on her face.

"I'm so sorry–I'll go wash it off," she said quickly. Hank put his hand up.

"We're headed out anyway, so you can keep it on." She nodded.

Hank stopped the car abruptly and stepped out onto the street. Connor quickly followed. Before closing his door, Hank shucked his jacket and threw it on the driver’s seat. This didn’t surprise Connor as it was springtime, and the weather in Detroit was rapidly increasing.

Hank walked around the hood of the car and started to make his way through the front lawn of the home he and Connor were investigating. This home was in a better part of town, so the lawn wasn’t as decrepit as some others Connor had seen. In fact, this one had some pretty flowers that were just starting to bloom.

“So what’s the story again?” Hank asked an officer standing at the base of the porch.

“Well, there was a break-in while the family was out, and they suspected it was an android due to the puddles of blue blood everywhere.”

“Blue blood? If it was a break in why…” Hank trailed off, his eyes distant. The officer didn’t seem to notice.

“Forensics thinks they cut themselves on some glass, but honestly it’s just a theory.”

Hank’s expression was slack, eyes still distant. Connor furrowed his brow and stepped to be more in Hank’s line of sight.

“Lieutenant?” Connor asked. Suddenly, Hank gasped and sneezed almost directly on Connor’s shirtfront.

“hIH-EISHIEU!”

“Bless you,” the officer said offhandedly.

“Bless you, Lieutenant,” Connor said after a moment to recollect his wits. He knew what the concept of a sneeze was, but had never had someone sneeze this close to him. Needless to say, he was a bit shaken.

“Sorry about that, Connor,” Hank said, brushing off Connor’s shirtfront. “Maybe next time don’t stand right in front of me when I’m about to sneeze. ‘S an easier way to keep your shirt clean.” Hank sniffed harshly and scrubbed the side of his hand under his nose before turning his attention back to the officer.

-

By the time the two detectives made it back to Hank’s car, Hank’s face was pretty red and he had sneezed a few more times inside the house. Finally, now that they were alone, Connor could ask the question he’d been dying to ask:

“Lieu-...Hank, are you getting sick?” Connor said it bluntly because he saw no point in beating around the bush like Hank did sometimes.

“What? No!” Hank said, scrubbing at his nose again. “Are you concerned about this?” He gestured to his face. Connor nodded pointedly. “I’m allergic to pollen. You saw that lawn. I’m surprised it wasn’t worse.” Hank started up the car and pulled away without another word, leaving Connor to think.

-

The first thing Connor ended up thinking about was how certain sensitivities, like temperature, water saturation, and apparently now allergies, weren’t things that plagued androids. Connor wondered idly if there was something he could do to change that. Since his deviancy, he had wished more and more to experience every part of humanity, not just the so-called “good” parts. Maybe I could inquire at New Jericho, Connor thought. That was the #1 place (and the only place) to go with questions about oneself if one was an android. If they didn’t have answers, no one did.

The second thing Connor ended up thinking about was how he was going to phrase this inquiry. He didn’t really start thinking about it, however, until he was nearly right outside the doors. He was there after work that day; Hank told him a while back it’d be good for him to go out by himself every so often, so there weren’t many questions about his absence.

Connor stepped over the threshold and made a beeline for one of the elevators. Luckily, one came quickly. He stepped inside and selected the floor labeled “Clinic.” The ride up was short and quiet. Connor noticed a distinct lack of music that played in the elevators at other establishments.

The doors opened to a clean, white waiting room. Connor realized he had never been to this part of New Jericho before, so he sat down and looked around. It looked just like the waiting room of a human hospital, but it was filled with androids. Well, filled would be an overstatement. There were three other androids not including himself that Connor could see. There was also some art on the walls that looked vaguely similar to some art Connor recognized as Carl Manefred’s art. He wondered vaguely where it came from.

“Excuse me? Sir?” The receptionist at the desk snapped Connor out of his art-induced stupor.

“Are you talking to me?” Connor asked, pointing to himself. The receptionist nodded, and Connor made his way over to their desk.

“Do you have an appointment?” The receptionist asked.

“Ah, no. I don’t,” Connor didn’t realize one could make an appointment here.

“That’s quite alright. I’ll set you up with the first doctor who’s available if that’s alright?” Connor nodded and returned to his seat.

After a few minutes, an android with shoulder-length brown hair and black scrubs came out of a door opposite the elevator.

“Walk in?” The doctor called. Connor looked around, and no one else stood up.

“I think that’s me,” Connor said.

“Sorry,” The receptionist piped up. “You didn’t give me your name, so I didn’t know what to put.” You never asked, Connor thought confusedly but kept it to himself.

“It’s fine,” he said. “My name is Connor.”

“Well, Connor,” The doctor started. “Why don’t you just follow me back here?”

Connor followed the doctor through a corridor filled with a lot of doors before finally ending up in a sort of examination room. It had an examination table and a sink, but it also had a larger-than-average computer monitor smack in the middle of the room that looked like it was attached to the ceiling. The doctor motioned for Connor to sit on the examination table while they sat in the chair behind the computer.

“So what brings you in today, Connor?”

And it was at that moment that Connor realized he had no idea how to phrase his question.

“Is it possible to…feel more human things? Including the ‘unsavory’ things?” Connor settled with saying that. The doctor considered this.

“Yeah, it’s been done before. A lot of the components are there, but there’s just no code to activate them in a human way. What most doctors do around here is ask patients to write their own code, so that way they get the modification how they want, and then the doctor just looks over it and installs it. So, I can help you get started, but really that’s the easiest thing to do.” they explained. Connor was almost taken aback at how easy it was.

“That’s all?”

The doctor nodded.

-

Connor knew his system pretty well, so he figured he wouldn’t have that hard a time with the coding part itself. What he would have a hard time with, he suspected, would be figuring out what to modify to give the desired effect.

He started with a search for sneezing. Which brought him to a medical page explaining exactly what a sneeze was. He knew that already. He went from the definition to the Wikipedia page and then down a rabbit hole about everything sneeze-related. He learned about everything from common triggers of a sneeze down to what made them trigger the sneeze. After a night of intense researching, Connor figured he knew enough to start coding.

The next night after work was when he began. He made a copy of the part of his code that he was going to edit so that way the doctor would know which part he wanted to change and then got to work. It was actually a bit harder than Connor thought it was going to be, just simply because sneezing involved so many more parts of the body than just the nose. It involved the diaphragm, the lungs, the mouth, and sometimes even the abdomen, too. Then, Connor got to work on triggers. He realized during his research that because he was editing his code himself, he could essentially choose what he was allergic to, which was not a privilege most humans got. Connor picked some pretty generic things, he thought, and edited his code accordingly. Then, for some added realism, Connor added an aspect about external triggers and accidental and random sneezes as well. Then, as if he was tying everything up with a nice little bow, Connor put everything in a folder labeled “nasal sensitivities” and put it on a flash drive for the next evening.

Connor feared that Hank was getting suspicious of his recent behavior, but he didn’t say anything when Connor left the house soon after work the next evening. Connor made his way to the clinic again, and this time made sure to leave his name with the receptionist.

“I’ll try to set you up with the same doctor,” the receptionist said nicely. Not long after, Connor was taken back.

“Welcome back, Connor. Did you have another question about modifications?” the doctor asked.

“No. Well, yes, actually? I finished the code, and I was wondering if you could implement it,” Connor explained. The doctor was silent for a moment before Connor fished his flash drive out of his pocket and handed it to the doctor.

“That was really fast,” the doctor noted. They plugged the flash drive into the computer suspended from the ceiling and started clicking around.

“Ahh,” the doctor said. “This is a fairly common modification, especially for androids who work in close contact with humans for extended periods of time.” The doctor clicked around a bit more before grabbing a cord from the other end of the computer and handing it to Connor.

“You’re going to want to plug this into the port at the base of your neck,” they instructed. Connor did as he was told and plugged the cord into the port. “Take a seat, and try to relax. This isn’t going to feel amazing.”

The doctor sat back down at their computer and clicked a few more buttons before looking up at Connor.

Connor definitely understood what the doctor meant as soon as they clicked the final button. There was a cold, staticky sensation that wasn’t comfortable, but it wasn’t exactly painful either. And then it was over.

“That should be it,” The doctor said, moving to pull the cord out of Connor’s port. “If any issues arise, please come back as soon as possible and we’ll remove the code so it can be edited.”

Connor said his thank-yous and goodbyes and left for Hank’s house rather quickly, as he was excited to test out his new code.

-

When he got home, Hank was in his room, so Connor felt fairly confident he would have some time to himself. He collected a few things from around his room on his bed and stared at them for a moment.

A flower from the neighbor’s camellia bush. A bottle of dollar-store cologne. A feather.

Connor figured he’d start with the most obvious one: the feather, but his new code had other ideas. His eyes began to water and his throat felt itchy. Connor brought a hand up to his face rubbing at his eyes when he realized the new and foreign feeling in his nose he’d never felt before.

It could almost be described as a buzzing sensation; Connor knew instantly it was due to something on his bed. He wrinkled his nose a few times, scanning the items before him. Then, all of a sudden, he gasped quite loudly, and let out a sneeze.

“haH-ISHOO!”

Now Connor understood why sneezing was described the way it was. It was quite bothersome in the beginning, but it felt so good to get out. And it made him feel unequivocally human.

After a few more sneezes, Connor realized that the flower was the thing setting him off, which meant that the code was working in that respect. He opened the window and threw the flower out of it, though, because it was skewing the data in his trials. He then grabbed a tissue box from the other room and brought it to his bed. He plucked one off the top and put it around his nose, the way he’d seen humans do. He’d never actually done this before, nor did he know if it was something he’d have to learn, but it was something he needed to do if he wanted to try the other triggers tonight. Connor attempted to blow his nose for a few minutes with varying degrees of success. It was relatively quiet, which Connor guessed was a good thing, and it wasn’t very messy either. Connor opened the tissue to see what was inside and saw some clear fluid with bits of yellow pollen stuck inside it. He figured that was his artificial “snot” that was meant to catch pathogens like pollen.

Then, Connor moved on to the next trigger: the feather. He picked it up and stroked it across the palm of his hand. He noted its softness and its flexibility. Then, he raised it to his face. He first rubbed the feather lengthwise across his upper lip like he had seen in television shows made for children. It felt sort of strange and didn’t really ignite any feelings of irritation. Changing his approach, Connor decided to stick the feather up his nose instead, which he thought might be more effective.

And effective it was. The second the feather was up there, Connor felt the irritation spike instantly. His breath started hitching wildly and his eyes started to tear up.

“hih-HIH!…hEh!--hih! HaH! Ha-ISHIEW! ISHOO! HA-ISH!” Connor sneezed a ticklish triple. He preferred the feeling of the feather sneezes to the pollen sneezes, he noted. They felt less irritated and more…ticklish.

Looking down at his arm, Connor realized that he was spraying everything in his vicinity with his artificial saliva and snot. He really needed to learn how to cover properly…

Next (and last) on the docket was cologne. This stuff looked cheap because it was cheap. But Connor felt it would be sufficient. He didn’t exactly know how to go about trying this one out, so he just sprayed it in the air in front of him and inhaled deeply.

“Hmm,” Connor hummed as he noted the foresty scent of the cologne. Then, it hit him.

“Oh, rA9,” Connor swore through his coughing. The itch was so powerful all he could do was cough for a moment or two. Then, came the sneezing.

“ISHieW! ASCHOO! ISHOO! EISChOO! EISHH! hHH-HiH–!” They came quickly, one after the other, with barely any time to breathe in between. Luckily, it was short-lived. Connor rubbed his nose with the palm of his hand and waved the cloud of cologne toward the window with his other hand.

Thus concluded his trial. The modification worked as planned. Of course, there were other parts of the modification that hadn’t been tested, but Connor was sure that it would be fine. Now, all he had to do was wait to see others’ reactions.

-

Connor got his first chance to gauge a crowd’s reaction to his new modification at the police station, about a week after having made the upgrade. Someone in the office brought their cat to work for everyone to play with. Connor happened to be holding it rather close to his face while conversing with some other officers in the break room. What he hadn’t anticipated was the cat’s long, fluffy tail, brushing his nose every so often. It was fine at first, but after a while Connor’s nose started to tickle, and every time the cat’s tail brushed his nose the tickle got worse.

“You sure that’s not bothering you?” Someone asked Connor after he sniffed especially hard.

“No, it’s fi-hih! fine. I’m alright,” Connor assured them, but to tell the truth, he wasn’t sure himself. It felt like he was on the verge of sneezing now. He moved one of his hands closer to his face, shifting the weight of the cat to his other hand.

“Okay…”

The cat’s tail slowly brushed against Connor’s cheek, and then directly under his nose before moving to the other cheek, and then back under his nose again. And that was the last straw. The sneeze was coming, and it was coming fast. Connor only had a few moments to turn away from the people sitting around him before–

“hIH-ESHIEW! HASHOO! hIh-ISCHOO! snFF! God…”

The conversation around him died down, and when Connor looked back everyone was staring.

“Are you okay, Connor?”

“I’m alright,” Connor echoed what he said before. “I should probably give this to someone else, though.” Connor handed the cat to the person next to him and scrubbed his hand under his nose.