Work Text:
Connor, being an android, had endless information at his disposal. Unfortunately, whenever the information didn’t involve dead bodies or crime scenes, it was surface level.
Connor is currently grilling beef patties for dinner, emphasis on the “grilling”. Connor is not doing anything other than that, he is only getting the grill hot enough to cook the meat.
“Connor!” a voice calls from the house. “You got those patties yet?” Connor turns around to look at Hank, his acquaintance colleague roommate friend (?), who is now in the doorway to the back patio.
“They’re in the process of cooking, Hank.” Connor’s programming instructed him to refer to Hank as “Lieutenant Anderson” or “Sir”, but Hank’s overwhelming persistence overrode Connor’s commands.
Hank glances at Connor’s very minimal setup before speaking up, “Man, this ain’t gonna work.”
“Why not? I flattened each piece of meat to have one-inch thickness and the grill is pre-heated at the ideal cooking temp-,” Connor is cut off by Hank waving his hand in a dismissive manner.
“Come on, you have the meat and almost nothing else! What about seasoning, huh? Or the cheese to melt it on the patties? Did you even oil the grill first? These patties are going to taste like nothing.”
“Hank, I do not have the same taste b-,” Connor is cut off, again, but this time by Hank’s voice.
“Son, I don’t care if you’re an android, human, or a fucking puppy. You live in my house, you will know how to grill. This won’t cut it.”
Connor does not answer Hank because Hank disappears into the house. Connor is unsure if his knowledge on grilling is wrong, or if Hank is very particular with his grilling. Connor is also unsure if Hank calling him “Son” was purposeful or not. Connor knows what a father-son relationship looks like, but he is unsure what it feels like. He thinks the term is ‘confused’. Ever since turning to deviancy, he is not sure how to categorize ‘emotions’.
Just as quick as he disappeared, Hank reappears. This time, he has his hands full with what Connor observes to be various seasonings, a bowl, american cheese, and a portion of vegetable oil.
“Alright, these are the goods. First,” Hank separates the seasonings from the rest, “you have to season your meats. It's law.”
Connor nods and chooses to ignore the misinformation embedded in Hank’s words. Hank sees Connor’s LED spinning yellow, so he takes that as his queue to continue speaking. “The first seasoning here is pepper. You need it to spice things up in the kitchen, but it spices things up in a way that only kinda stings. Like, everyone can enjoy the sting of flavor even if they have a spice tolerance worse than your grilling.”
Connor’s LED is still spinning yellow, but he smiles at Hank’s jab and his descriptions. Since Connor does not have the same taste buds, Hank has gotten used to describing how things taste in order for Connor to have his own kind of experience eating. “My old neighbor showed me this seasoning. Such a sweet grandma. I think she was Puerto Rican, I dunno. This,” Connor reads ‘Adobo’ on the label, “is like a bomb of every fucking flavor in one. It’s like if Pearl Harbor happened in your mouth.”
Hank sets the last one down, “This is just salt. Sometimes the seasonings mix to be a little too sweet, so you have to add a pinch of salt. My grandma neighbor also taught me that one.”
“Okay, what do I do with all of these now?” Connor asks, confused with how he’s supposed to apply his newfound knowledge.
“Mix the seasonings in the bowl and put them on the damn patties! I’m sure you’ll figure out whatever crazy computer precise ratios you need.” Hank sits down on one of the chairs on the patio, obviously not willing to help Connor more until he completes this first step.
Connor spills the pepper and adobo in the small bowl in a simple one to two ratio, assuming that the adobo should be the most prevalent seasoning considering how flavorful it is. Then, he adds a literal ‘pinch’ of salt and grabs some salt in between his pointer finger and thumb. Finally, he spreads the seasoning evenly across each patty.
“What now, Hank?”
Still sitting down, Hank answers. “Now, you oil the grill. You’re supposed to use olive oil, but canola oil is two dollars cheaper and I don’t cook enough to spend two extra dollars.”
Connor picks up the oil and, similarly to the seasoning, spreads it evenly. Only this time, it’s on the grill and not the patties. “Finally,” Hank starts, not even waiting for Connor to ask what’s next, “you put a slice of cheese on each patty, put the patties on the grill, cover the patties, and let the cheese melt and patties cook.”
Connor puts each slice of cheese perfectly in the center of each patty and covers the grill. He goes over to sit across from Hank, who grins. “Great! Now we won’t be eating flavorless rocks for dinner.”
“Flavorless, maybe, but my original patties would have been edible. A rock is not.” Connor quips back, but his tone falls flat.
“Not all of us have replaceable parts Connor, I actually need to take care of my teeth.”
“If that were the case, Hank, you wouldn’t drink alcohol so often.” Connor smiles at his own remark, reminding himself of the time Hank tried seeing if androids could experience any of the common effects of alcohol (they can’t).
“Just because I need to take care of them doesn’t mean I can’t ever have fun. I still brush my teeth.”
Connor smiles and looks at the grill, “I suppose so.”
Connor has learned a lot from humans, Hank especially. He has learned what it’s like to feel fear, anger, determination, and, most importantly, happiness. He thinks he’s learned at least. He was only ever content or unsatisfied as a machine. Nothing in between was ever felt. He enjoys living with Hank, petting Sumo, and he finds himself wanting to learn things from Hank and even show Hank what he has learned from others.
He enjoys Hank’s company because Hank does not treat him like an outsider nor does he neglect the fact that Connor is not human. He does not sugar coat, but he also does not judge. Connor thinks he is happy. He thinks that this is happiness. If it isn't, he's excited to see what happiness could possibly beat this.