ersatz-ostrich

Made by a nerd, with love

hi, I might post fanfic.

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A Sweet Discovery

Connor & gn!reader, RK900 & gn! reader

help why is the gif ENORMOUS

Analyzing… Analysis complete. Conclusion: delicious. Connor and Nines try jam for the first time.

[A/N]: WELCOME BACK EVERYBODY! I BRING CONTENT

After seeing fanart on Pinterest of tiny Connor and tiny RK900 trying jam for the first time, I had an idea that really spiraled out of control (if the word count says anything lol). Although the word 'jam' only appears 45 (!) times during this fic, I swear I've typed it out so many times that the word's become surreal to me. Like, jam, jam, jam...um, what does 'jam' mean again? Anyways...

read here on ao3

You stirred the bubbling pot on your stove, humming pleasantly. It was a lazy Saturday in the peak of summer, and you had decided to spend your free time trying your hand at canning what was abundant and in season instead of rotting on your couch or in bed. Various ingredients and equipment were strewn about your kitchen—a colander, a large jar of sugar from the pantry, cutting boards, and boxes on boxes of fruit. Alongside your pot of jam-to-be, you had set another pot of water to boil with glass jars in it to sterilize them.

You stirred away, mind drifting, until you were pulled back to the present by the chime of your doorbell. Your head turned to the screen set up on your counter, where you saw through the footage of your doorbell camera two androids and a large Saint Bernard waiting politely at your front door. Grinning, you departed from your post at the stove momentarily to hit the button to let them in.

“Come on in, you guys!” You called out from the kitchen. The lock clicked, and Connor let himself in, followed by Nines.

“Good morning, Y/N.” Connor piped up first. “What are you doing?”

“Well, I wanted to do something useful with my time off, so I decided to make some jam.” In a most Connor-like fashion, he tilted his head, curious. While Sumo settled contentedly on the carpet in your living room, you beckoned the androids into your sunny kitchen. “So, what brings you two here?”

“We were walking Sumo and passed by your home.” While you only lived a few blocks from Hank, you found it interesting that they had chosen to show up unannounced. “I thought we should pay you a visit.” He gave you an easy half-smile, something that had become more and more common as he grew accustomed to deviancy.

“Are we intruding? If so, we’ll be on our way—”

“Nonsense, Nines, of course you can stay,” You waved him off as you agitated the bubbling jam on the stove, which was coming along nicely. “I’m not doing anything particularly important right now. Have you two ever had jam?”

“Jam, as in…fruit cooked and preserved in sugar and other additives?” Nines inquired. “I’m afraid not, Detective. We were designed to analyze samples of organic matter from crime scenes. Jam, so far, has not been one of those samples.” You chuckled at his response.

“Well, would you like to?” You pulled the glass jars out of the pot of water and onto an awaiting towel with a pair of tongs, all while stirring your jam. “I’ve got some blueberry jam in those jars on the kitchen table.” You reached for your utensil drawer and handed a spoon to Connor. “Try it.”

Connor took the spoon and eyed the jars on your kitchen table, LED spinning. Taking the lid off of one, he spooned out a generous dollop of the dark purple substance, which stuck to the spoon and slid off lazily when he put the spoon in his mouth.

Silence passed over you and the androids; the only sounds in the kitchen were the burbling of your jam and your spoon scraping against the walls of the pot as you watched Connor’s LED glow a bright, whirling yellow.

The moment the jam hit Connor’s sensor-studded tongue, his processors were flooded with input. He dropped the hand holding the spoon, and the spoon fell out of his mouth and clattered onto the table. Flavor, or as much flavor as a deviant android like himself could sense, bloomed on his tongue and sent pleasant sparks coursing through his artificial nervous system. The data came flowing in as his LED continued to spin; he detected a delicious bouquet of volatile aromatic compounds and acids, no doubt from the fruit, and a torrent of carbohydrates. If he had possessed any human taste buds, he would have registered the taste of the jam as tart, sweet, and delicious.

With astonishing speed, Connor snatched up the spoon from the table, scooped out a helping of the jam, and unceremoniously shoved it into his successor’s mouth.

Nines’s LED flashed red as Connor insistently jammed ; then yellow as he processed the data he was receiving from analyzing the jam in his mouth; and then, finally, pulsing blue as he began to appreciate the jam’s agreeable taste.

“It is…interesting.” Nines spoke when Connor finally removed the spoon from his mouth. “I have never analyzed anything like it before.”

“Yes, but how is it?” You asked. “Do you like it?”

“I cannot determine whether or not I like the data I receive from analyzing samples, Detective.” Nines cracked a small smile. “But…I would say that the sensory stimulation I received from tasting the jam was pleasant.” Upon hearing his comments, you beamed, glad to have been given the RK900 seal of approval.

“It sounds to me like you like the jam, Nines! I’m glad.” You smiled softly as the androids chatted over the kitchen table. It was so gratifying to help androids like Connor and Nines experience things both mundane and complex without the restraints of their Cyberlife programming. Something so simple as blueberry jam, you realized, could brighten their day.

“Are these blueberries from upstate? Blueberries are currently in season in Michigan.” Connor inquired.

“Yeah, I got them from Rose’s Farm outside of Detroit. They let you pick your own blueberries and the price is pretty great for the freshness and quantity you get.” You knocked your spoon against the rim of the pot to let your now-finished jam drip off and transferred your pot onto a square pot holder to cool. Connor raised his brows upon hearing you mention the farm owned by Rose Chapman, whom he knew to have harbored deviants leading up to the day the androids had won their freedom. He had first learned of the woman from a group of androids from Jericho, not long after he had become a deviant.

“I see,” Connor mused. “Is this your first time making jam?”

“No, it isn’t. I definitely wasn’t this good the first time around.” You laughed sheepishly, taking some jars off of your kitchen counter and presenting them to the two androids. “See, this one’s started fermenting. I noticed when I opened the jar today and it smelled off. I think I didn’t sterilize my jar right or something,” You explained. Connor dipped a spoon in the deep red jam. After a brief analysis, he determined the failed jam to be contaminated strawberry preserves.

“You are correct. I detect trace amounts of alcohol in this sample from fermentation,” He replied after a second. “I also detect a certain strain of mold. These preserves should not be consumed.”

“Yeah, I’m going to dump it. Try this one,” You held out another jar of strawberry preserves. Visually, Connor couldn’t tell what was wrong with it at first until he stuck the spoon in the jar and realized that the consistency was too thick.

“The sugars in these preserves have caramelized,” Connor concluded.

“I kinda…screwed up and burned my preserves.” Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Nines reaching into the utensil drawer for a spoon to sample the contaminated strawberry preserves.

“If you would not like to waste these strawberry preserves, Detective, I could take it. Androids are not affected by mold contamination or fermentation.” He began.

“You sure? That stuff’s gonna grow some pretty gross mold colonies after some time,” You responded, wrinkling your nose. “I have a better idea. Why don’t you take some of the jam I just made? I have so much jam in my house right now and I don’t know what I’m going to do with all of it.” You screwed the lid on the blueberry jam Connor and Nines had tried and pressed it into the RK900’s hands. “Oh, and—” You hurried back to the kitchen counter to pour out some of the jam you just made into one of the sterilized jars you had left to dry. “—take this, too. It’s raspberry jam.” You handed the warm glass jar to Connor, who accepted it enthusiastically.

“Thank you, Detective. I—we appreciate your generosity.” Nines replied, pleased.

“I can’t wait to try your raspberry jam. I’m sure it’s delicious,” Connor added.

“You’re too kind, both of you.” You laughed cheerily, walking with them into the living room where Sumo raised his head to greet you. “I’ve got plenty more fruit to preserve, but I don’t want you two to keep Hank waiting for too long.” With Sumo’s leash in one hand and a jar of jam cradled carefully in the other, Connor waved goodbye and stepped out the front door. Nines followed suit, nodding politely at you.

“Thank you for showing us something new, Detective. Thanks to you, I feel like I have expanded my horizons greatly since becoming deviant.”

“It was my pleasure, Nines. You’re welcome to stop by anytime.”

“Hey, whatcha eatin’, Tin Can?”

“Blueberry jam, Detective.” Spoon still hanging out of his mouth, Nines offered the jar to Gavin. “My filtration system can only handle about a spoonful every now and then, but I enjoy the taste. Would you like some?” The abrasive detective inspected the jar with a critical eye.

“Fuck, who put you on human food?”

“Detective L/N.” Nines answered placidly. “L/N is very good at making jams.”

“Shit, is that where Connor got his jar of jam from?” asked Hank, stopping by Nines and Gavin’s desks on his way back from the breakroom. “The one he keeps on his desk alongside a spoon. I catch him eating spoonfuls of the jam from time to time.” Nines nodded.

“Well, I’ll be damned,” Gavin muttered. “Androids eating jam. What’s next? Donuts?”

While Gavin’s speculations did not become a reality, Connor and Nines continued to enjoy the simple pleasure of homemade jam. It wasn’t long until their android brother Sixty discovered it, and he responded with equal enthusiasm for the stuff.

Noticing their newfound habit of shoving jam-coated spoons in their mouths during lulls in work at the precinct or after visiting particularly gruesome crime scenes, you continued bringing them different flavors of jams and preserves for them to try. What had been your way of killing time at home had become a full-fledged hobby.

“They’re my android guinea pigs,” You joked to anyone who asked. “They’re the first in line every time I experiment with a new recipe.”

Finally, after Connor had turned up on your doorstep to return emptied-out jars for the umpteenth time, you decided to teach him how to make his own jam.

“Look, I’m not saying that I don’t want to make jam for you guys anymore. I just think you’d like it if you tried making it yourselves,” You explained. “I’m sure you can download some executable that magically gives you culinary skills through the power of software, but you’ll still need practice, right?”

“I’m not sure, Detective—” Connor replied uneasily. “I was not built for domestic work, but I will try.” He had elected to wear an apron as you walked him through the process, and you couldn’t help but smile at the sight of Connor standing in your kitchen wearing a red gingham apron over his impeccably neat clothes. He was eager to learn, a trait you had always liked. What he had once called “Cyberlife’s social integration module” had made him adaptable, open-minded, and a great listener.

You had invited Connor into your kitchen on a sunny Saturday morning, much like the morning Connor and Nines had first tasted blueberry jam. By noon, he was strolling back to Hank’s place with a spring in his step, carrying a box that rattled with glass jars of his own preserves.

Making jam soon became Connor’s new favorite hobby. He enjoyed the endless variation in recipes and tasting things other than forensic evidence. You started seeing jars of jam mysteriously popping up on your desk every couple of weeks. When you asked Hank if Connor was the jam fairy behind the gifts on your desk, the lieutenant feigned ignorance.

Connor was also able to branch out into the android community of Detroit. He began to frequent the android-populated New Jericho neighborhood that had formed after the government acknowledged androids’ personhood, where he met current and former employees of the Detroit Urban Farms project and other androids with green thumbs. They exchanged the produce they grew for the preserves he made, which they sold at a farmer’s market downtown. Connor declined a share of the profits, saying that he wanted to support the burgeoning android community with his hobby. He was building a life for himself that he had never expected to have when he was a machine, and that was enough for him.

As for Nines, his newfound sweet tooth led him to discover a different interest. On his days off, he liked to explore the city in which he was assembled. On one of his walks, he discovered a candy shop on a street corner a few paces away from Bellini Paints. There, he was introduced to the delights of various different candies. Soon enough, he couldn’t go anywhere without stashing a fistful of lemon drops or hard caramels in the pocket of his raincoat or suit jacket. His coworkers—especially his partner Gavin—found the sight of Cyberlife’s most advanced investigator android and (former) killing machine licking contentedly at a heart-shaped lollipop jarring, intimidating even. However, his penchant for hard candy endeared him to the children he encountered in his line of work—scared, stressed children who would have previously cowered away from his imposing figure and piercing stare.

One time, Officer Miller had brought in a sandy-haired, freckled five-year-old boy who had been separated from his parents while attending a large parade. The child had wandered the streets for the whole day. The officer had found him sitting by himself on a park bench, teary-eyed.

Upon taking him back to the precinct, the child was inconsolable, crying until his tears dried up and continuing to tremble and whimper softly for his parents. Nines, who had just returned from the scene of a crime, noticed the boy sitting on a bench across the hall from the bullpen and being attended to by an ST300-model receptionist. Nines locked eyes with the android.

How is he doing? The ST300’s LED flickered yellow as she responded,

Not very well. He hasn’t stopped crying.

I’ll see what I can do.

Nines crouched down to reach the gaze of the boy’s stormy, downcast eyes. He produced a lollipop from a pocket in his jacket, unwrapped it, and offered it to the boy.

“It’s blueberry-flavored,” Said Nines. “Blueberry is my favorite flavor. What’s yours?” The boy sniffled and jammed the treat in his mouth.

“O-orange.”

“That’s a good choice,” Nines replied with a smile. His usually stoic, frosty expression softened. “I have a brother who makes the best orange marmalade ever.” He took a seat beside the boy.

“I a-always wanted a b-brother,” The boy hiccuped. “B-but Mommy and Daddy are g-gone, a-and—” His hiccups turned into sobs. Nines let the boy lean on him, placing a comforting hand on the boy’s shoulder.

“Shh, it’s okay,” Nines whispered. “You’re safe here. Everything will be alright. Everything will be just fine. We’ll find your parents, I promise.” Even if it takes Cyberlife’s most advanced android to track them down. He continued murmuring soothing affirmations to the boy, whose shoulders stopped shuddering as his sobs quieted.

We just confirmed that the boy matches the description of a missing child that was reported earlier today. His parents are on the way, Connor silently informed Nines from his desk.

Understood , Nines replied. He and the child lapsed into a comfortable silence as the misty-eyed boy continued to suck on the lollipop.

“What’s your name?” Nines asked the boy.

“Luke.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Luke. My brothers call me Nines.”

“That’s a weird name,” Luke blurted.

“My coworker, Gavin, thinks so, too.” Nines replied, side-eyeing the detective, who was idling in the bullpen. “You know, Luke, brothers are a handful. I have two—I’m the youngest.”

“Really?”

“Yes. They’re always up to something and I have to stop them from getting themselves into trouble.” Nines chuckled softly as some of his android predecessors’ antics came to mind. “My big brother, Connor, is the one who makes jam. Tell you what, I bet I can get him to make orange marmalade just for you.”

“Yeah?” Luke raised his gaze to meet Nines’s.

“A big jar, all for you.” A wide grin broke onto Luke’s cherubic face.

“I love orange mara-” Luke frowned. “Marmam-”

“Marmalade,”

“I love orange marmalade!” Luke giggled.

From the bullpen, Tina and the other officers craned their necks from where they were stationed at their desks to get a good view of Nines giving a rare, bright smile as the boy clung to his arm.

“Who knew Mr. Thirium-Pump-of-Ice was so good with kids?” Tina whispered to Gavin.

“I dunno,” Gavin whispered back. “If he didn’t act like such a stuck-up prick all the time, maybe more people would approach him. Kids included.”

“The RK900 is equipped with a social module similar to that of the RK800 line,” Connor piped up. “His software is capable of adapting to the behavior of children, including consol-”

“We get it, Connor!” Gavin whisper-shouted.

“I think it’s kinda cute,” You offered. “Even though he’s deviant, Nines doesn’t show us this side of him often.”

“Aww. Maybe Nines is a softy after all.” Ben joked.

“Ooh, don’t let him hear that, Collins. You’re ruining his street cred.” Gavin retorted.

While the officers watched on, as discreet as a zebra at a horse show, Luke willingly climbed into Nines’s arms and let him carry him out to the precinct lobby where his parents were waiting anxiously. Just before he exited the bullpen, Nines cast a glance at Connor, LED flashing yellow. Connor’s LED flashed likewise.

“Connor? What’s up?” You asked as the RK800 stared off into the distance.

“You wouldn’t happen to know where I can get some good oranges, would you, Detective?”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~end or something idk~~~~~~~~~

[A/N]: I initially wanted Nines or Sixty to discover honey/take up beekeeping after discovering jam/fruit preserves...but then I realized that bees are extinct in Detroit: Become Human :( hope you guys liked this little tangent! until next time x

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A Sweet Discovery

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