Nida looks pretty happy to hear this - and Connor tilts his head minutely, a little catlike himself to match the one purring like some kind of engine on his lap. It seems to have given up on clawing him - instead it's curled up with both tails wrapped around its body, and petting it like this is oddly pleasant. And it gives him something to occupy his hands instead of fidgeting.

"That Connor," he repeats dryly. "Yeah, I guess I am."

He's going to make a wild stab in the dark and say Hank's talked about him a bit. It's a bit weird to find himself the subject of conversation - in a context that's not 'fucking androids taking our jobs/ruining the city/demanding freedom'. He likes it - sort of.

"Did he also tell you we've only known each other for less than a week?" Connor says, leaning back a little in his chair with the ghost of a grin. "I don't know how much more I could tell you."

That's true! But also Connor snooped through Hank's personal record, explored his house and went through the kind of intense experiences with him that made opening up almost inevitable...so maybe he does know more than most. If he wants to tell it.

"But you can try asking."