Deviant Behavior (Connor x Reader)

Part IV: Daybreak

You let out an overly dramatic groan, following it with a "Wah."

"Shit, what time is it..." Your arm was mid-reach before you got an answer.

"It is currently 0500.  We have one hour to arrive at Central Station."

You straightened.  Ripped the blanket off.  Shivered as the warm embrace left you in your panicked flurry to get ready, and was nulled as another took its place.

"Hold on a second-"

"Connor, if I'm late Fowler is going to have my ass-"           

He held a finger to your mouth, "Shhh."

You gave him a fiercely irritated look.

"I washed your uniform, and hung it in the bathroom.  There is a packed meal and full canister on the counter." He dropped his finger, smiling at your calming anger, "You can eat on the way.  I'm driving."

"O-oh..." You swallowed hard, "I see."

You found yourself reeling about how lucky you were, looping your arms around his neck – pulling him in for an apologetic peck on the lips and a nuzzle of your nose against his.

"What's in the canister?"

He smirked, "Coffee, of course."

His eyes crinkled around the folds; forehead meeting yours.

"I love you, Connor."

He hugged you tight at that, face buried in your hair and taking a steep inhale of you.

"I love you too..." And then he let you go, hands dropping to your waist, "But you've got to get dressed."

"I know, I know..."

You swung your legs around the edge of the bed, wincing as you stood and stumbled.  You caught the edge of the nightstand in vain, held secure by the man who'd sprung to action.

"What happened?"

You gave him a glare from over your shoulder, holding the aching pit that screamed from somewhere below your stomach.

"You, Connor..."  You mumbled, "You, happened."

...

You had your phone pinned to your shoulder, thermos in hand and car keys in the other.

"We're fine, Hank."

Connor had your lunch bag slung, trying to blend in with the rest of the morning crowd – still dressed in Anthony's clothing.

"Yes, he's safe."

A slate sweater with a scrunched collar with a light-brown over-shirt.  A brown, leather jacket without a hood – something you always made fun of him for.  Worn jeans and a pair of standard Timberlands to keep the snow at bay.  All topped off with a dark-grey beanie; one he kept fidgeting with and pawing at.

"I'll make sure he gets changed when we get there.  See ya soon."

You said your goodbyes, tucking the phone away.  Grabbed Connor's hand and held it so he'd stop tugging at the knit fabric around his crown.

"Is it still covered?" He whispered, cocking his chin so you could see the side that his LED resided on.

"Yes, it's still covered..." You smiled, remembering the sharp, cute blink and the innocent tensing of his shoulders when you'd screwed the beanie over his head, "But it won't be if you keep messing with it."

"Hmph..."

The two of you got in the car, and surrendering the driver's seat was just as weird as when he'd driven you home from the bar.