It's been days. No texts, no secret handshake in the hall, not even a fucking reel sent. If Joey didn't know better, he'd think Benny had gotten sent somewhere with no cell service. But Joey checked.
So, here he is, in the K9 unit, nose stuffed (he'll never admit a slight dog allergy, it's the pollen in the air) searching for fucking signs of life. Dogs aren't going nuts, which means they're fed and taken care of, and more importantly, that asshole is around here somewhere.
It's just a matter of... where.
Benny needed the time away to clear his mind. Days spent sulking more than soul searching. Graves? Well, he hasn’t seen the man at all, not that he was looking for him. He’s just been cooped up in his own little world, pouring all of his time and energy into the dogs instead of focusing on the actual problem at hand. Typical. There’s just the one slight problem.
Well, Joey himself wasn’t a problem. It’s just, Benny has spent the last few months spending most of his time around the man when they weren’t working. One could say they’re connected at the hip, which is not at all what he had expected, or even wanted quite frankly. But it worked. There was just something about him that had Benny letting his guard down.
That’s why his head perks up at the call of his name. Fuck. How’s he going to play this all off? Joey would know he’s lying, he always did. Panic makes him round the corner faster than he’s ready for, smiling at the man like a dog about to throw up.
“Joey, hey. Sorry— I’ve been.. well, you know.”
No, Benny. He indeed did not know.
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