Chapter Text
“Absolutely not.”
North loved Markus. She really did. She’d signed up for all of it—the bleeding heart, the natural-born leader, the deadly fighter, the whisper-soft hands, and the tank-grade frame wrapped around the kindest core she’d ever met.
And yet, he could also be a complete idiot.
Like right now, if he was seriously considering letting this walking red flag into the newly established and still fragile sanctuary of New Jericho.
“He’s a deviant, just like the rest of us, North,” Markus said. Like an idiot. Like someone who didn’t understand basic military strategy.
“He is a plant,” she enunciated, as if that would get it through his thick skull any better.
“He came here of his own free will, after CyberLife,” he matched her emphasis, “threw him out. I won’t turn him away.”
“Are you forgetting the part where he tried to kill Connor and his partner?”
“Are you forgetting the part where they did kill me?” the walking red flag in question interjected. The smirk that accompanied it made North want to scream.
Why are you even smiling about that? Can no one else smell the stench of sketchiness like it’s overdone cologne coming off this guy?
Catching her hate-filled look of disgust, the infuriating imp winked at her. As if he weren’t trying to ruin everything by sneaking in as an evil, secret CyberLife agent.
“Markus, this is the guy who almost single-handedly stopped the revolution.”
“Aww, you’re making me blush.”
“I’m sorry, do you want to get another bullet between the eyes?”
“North.”
North growled and pointed an accusing finger at this supposed Connor-60. As far as she was concerned, he was no Connor. Just the sixtieth iteration, and how did they actually get worse over time? Wasn’t the whole idea that they’d improve? Who at CyberLife didn’t know the basic principle behind a 2.0 version of something?
“If this—this sixtieth bastard—had stopped Connor at the CyberLife Tower, we would never have gotten those reinforcements, and who knows if our singing alone would have moved President Warren enough to grant us what paltry imitation of personhood status she has.”
“I liked the singing,” Markus said. “Definitely moving enough for Madam President, according to my estimates.”
“This isn’t a joke, Markus.”
“I agree,” Markus said. “Your harmonization skills are no joking matter.”
“Flattery will get you nowhere, big guy.”
Markus shrugged with an effortlessly charming smile. “Wasn’t flattery.”
North’s lips twitched despite herself, before she wrestled the disapproving frown back onto her face where it belonged. “We are getting off topic! The issue is that this guy,” she said, jerking a thumb at the security risk in question, “reeks of infiltration. And he’s not even doing a good job of hiding it!”
As though to prove her point, Connor’s evil twin smiled in the most blindingly, obviously fake “innocent” manner known to androidkind. Seriously. Even androids without social relation programs could do better.
Markus turned to the Connor-wannabe. “You’re really not helping your case here.”
Evil-Connor shrugged carelessly. Markus sighed and turned back to North.
“If he is a plant, then there’s no one I trust more to watch him.”
North did a double-take. “I’m sorry, are you saying you want me to babysit the bastard?”
“I do not need a babysitter.”
At least the bastard finally lost his smug grin. It was a minor consolation at best.
Markus put a hand on both of their shoulders. “Not a babysitter. Just showing him the ropes. If he’s a plant, you can incapacitate him. If he proves himself trustworthy, you can let him go, and you don’t have to interact with him ever again if you don’t want to.”
“This is totally a babysitting job. Markus, the solution is to kick him out and keep him out.”
“Still not moving. When he first came to me, we had a long conversation, and…” He looked at the bastard, as if in askance, and the pseudo-Connor just looked at the floor, jaw tightening. Hmph.
“...and long story short, I don’t believe he’s here to harm us. I’m willing to give him a chance.”
North had half a mind to corner Markus and grill him about the precise circumstances of the bastard’s appearance in New Jericho. But she was also allergic to giving the menace any time of day he didn’t deserve, and if Markus didn’t think she needed to know, fine. She could gut the Connor copycat whether she knew his tragic (and likely fabricated) backstory or not.
“If you step a toe out of line,” North snarled at the sixtieth bastard around Markus, “I’m taking you apart.”
The bastard grinned right back, razor sharp. “You can certainly try.”
Markus patted them both on the back. “I think this’ll be good for the both of you.”
North was a wire-width away from pulling out her hair because what part of this was anything even remotely approaching “good?”
Unfortunately for her sanity and stress levels—and luckily for that bastard—she loved Markus more than she hated this evil Connor.
So fine. She’d play along. Until she could prove his duplicity.
That sixtieth bastard had better watch his six.
Sixty was having the time of his life.
The idea of someone keeping tabs on him had repulsed him at first, of course. If they were going to let him in, shouldn’t they let him in all the way? Not whatever this sick in-between was, reserved specifically for him and apparently him alone.
But he’d pushed those feelings aside. If Markus hadn’t trusted him, he wouldn’t have let him in. This arrangement was just Markus’ way of placating his guard dog so she wouldn’t kick up as much of a fuss.
And it was obvious from the first meeting that she’d never believe he wasn’t there to hurt and betray them. Sixty had sized her up in the first few seconds of their meeting and decided he couldn’t care less for playing nice, anyway. He’d much rather have some fun instead.
North thought he was a villain? That was fine with him—he could play the villain. He had excellent theatrical instincts.
The first week alone saw at least twice as many altercations as there were days, in true unnecessarily dramatic fashion. They almost knocked out the power in half the city of Detroit and came close to burning down New Jericho on three separate occasions.
A little property damage was a small price he didn’t have to pay for the kick of getting a rise out of North.
And North hardly needed any encouragement to go off.
Breathing usually did the trick. Walking, talking, standing, sitting. Anything, really. Existing too close to her, never mind that she was the one following him around, muttering a string of expletives and various other unflattering comments.
She’d taken to only referring to him as “that sixtieth bastard.”
Which led to him adopting the name with a great deal of both pride and prejudice just to spite her. To her great annoyance and to his delight, it had caught on—not the bastard part, but the “Sixty.”
In retaliation, she elected to refer to him only as “the bastard.”
This was not nearly as effective as she hoped, as she also grew averse to addressing him at all unless fighting with him, verbally or physically.
That was one of his favorite parts. Goading her into a fight as often as possible was the highlight of his limited new existence. It certainly beat the monotony of public trust campaigns, android shelter construction, legislative battles, and whatever else the naught Markus was spearheading.
North was easily the most entertaining part of this whole New Jericho situation. And as he was clearly unwelcome around the DPD—and couldn’t care less to be there anyway—this was as good as it was gonna get, he figured.
After being roped into the community garden project Josh had insisted would be “good for both the environment and android-human relations,” however, he was in desperate need of something to break up the tedium. For his sanity. And as a service to the public, so that he wouldn’t cause irreparable harm to it.
In such good faith for the public’s best interests, Sixty waltzed up to North. She stood with crossed arms and the signature scowl she adopted whenever he so much as glanced her way. Unfair, he thought, as she’d done nothing for the last half hour but monitor his planting of the flowerbeds for “suspicious activity.”
“Found what you were looking for?” Sixty drawled. Resting his elbow on her shoulder, he leaned in to whisper conspiratorially. “Don’t go asking after the carrots, though. Totally didn’t sway them to my side to spy on you all for CyberLife.”
North flipped him over her shoulder, and his breath left him in an audible whoosh.
“Make fun all you want,” she snapped. “I’m not letting my guard down. Especially not as we’re working alongside ‘formerly’ anti-android humans.” She glanced around at the others working in the garden and lowered her voice. “I’m not an idiot. Some of these guys used to be CyberLife employees.”
“Personally, I think you should be more worried about the carrots. Never trust a root vegetable. They’re always hiding the goods.”
North aimed a kick at his side, but he spun around and knocked her feet out from under her.
“North!” he exclaimed. “I can’t believe you would just crush the flowerbeds I worked so hard to plant. That’s not very New Jericho kumbaya of you.”
North growled, and it was so animalistic that Sixty’s hairs stood on end.
He grinned. Oh, she was mad today. This was going to be fun.