Ah yes here we go a multi-chapter coppernauts fic. and by multi i mean like probably 3 max.
After Benny had broken in to talk to him and Bad Cop had ended up blubbering in his arms, he half-hoped he wouldn't see the Master Builder again, but he also half-hoped he would. He did his best to stamp out that half.
A couple days went past, but then Bad Cop woke up one morning to clattering in the kitchen and the smell of bacon. For the muddled second between sleep and wakefulness, he thought he was at his parents' home in the countryside. Then awareness hit him like a lightning bolt and he shot out of bed and ran to the living room. The clutter that had slowly been returning was gone. He stormed into the kitchen to find Benny at the stove, prodding at a pan full of bacon with a spatula. The kitchen, which had also been a mess, was spotless.
Bad Cop opened and closed his mouth like a fish, then finally managed, "What the brick?"
Benny jumped a little in surprise, then looked over and grinned. He had his helmet on with the visor open, but instead of his space suit, he was wearing a blue T-shirt with the same symbol and faded jeans that shouldn't have survived past the '80s. His feet were bare and a couple inches off the floor. "Morning, B!" he said brightly.
"What do you think you're doing?" Bad Cop choked out.
"Making breakfast," Benny replied. He didn't say 'duh,' but Bad Cop heard it anyway.
"I can see that," Bad Cop said. "My question is why are you doing it here?"
"Last time I saw you, you looked like you hadn't had a decent meal in a while," Benny said, sliding the bacon out of the pan and onto a plate. "So I did a bit of shopping."
"You did what?" Bad Cop near-yelled.
"I couldn't even figure out what some of that stuff in your fridge was," Benny continued as if he hadn't heard.
Bad Cop crossed to the refrigerator and yanked the door open. It had been fully restocked.
There was a clink behind him. He turned to see Benny setting two plates down on the small, round table in the middle of the kitchen. Eggs, bacon, toast. There were already two glasses of orange juice set out. Benny pulled a chair out and sat, then patted the table to invite Bad Cop over.
Dazed, Bad Cop sank into the seat opposite him, and Benny happily dug into the breakfast. After a minute, he realized that Bad Cop hadn't so much as twitched. "What's up?" he asked.
"I'm very confused," Bad Cop said.
"That's okay," Benny replied cheerfully. "Most people seem to assume I can't cook, but I'm actually pretty good."
Was this guy for real? "That's… not what I was talking about."
"What, then?" Benny asked around a piece of bacon.
Bad Cop made a vague gesture. "Why you're doing all this for me."
Benny swallowed his mouthful. "You're not doing it for yourself."
"I'm not your responsibility," Bad Cop snapped.
Benny's expression was unreadable as he prodded at his eggs. "No," he agreed after a moment.
Bad Cop waited for elaboration, but the spaceman just munched on his toast. "And…?" he prompted when nothing seemed forthcoming.
"And what?" Benny asked, somewhat muffled by the bread.
"And so is there a particular reason you're doing this?"
Benny shrugged. "I like helping."
"But-"
"Eat," Benny interrupted. "C'mon man, I put all this effort into making it. At least eat it before it gets cold."
Automatically, Bad Cop picked up a fork and shoveled some eggs into his mouth. Benny was a good cook. He was suddenly very hungry, and he practically inhaled the rest of the plate.
"Good?" Benny asked as Bad Cop scraped the last of the eggs up.
Bad Cop nodded. Unlike somebody, he didn't talk with his mouth full.
Benny looked pleased at that and checked his watch. "Oh, I gotta go," he said. "I'm covering Emmet's shift on the South Side reconstruction." He stood up and collected the plates off the table, dumping them in the sink. "See you 'round, yeah?"
"Yeah," Bad Cop replied vacantly. Then his attention snapped back. "Wait," he said, scrambling after Benny into the living room.
Benny paused with one leg already out the open window and looked at him curiously.
"Uh," Bad Cop said awkwardly. "Thanks."
Benny gave him a two-fingered salute. "No prob, dude."
Then he was gone.
Bad Cop stood in the middle of his living room, arms hanging uselessly at his sides. He felt like his brain was still catching up. What had just happened? A tornado of cleanliness? A drive-by breakfasting?
He put a hand to his head and went to find some ibuprofen.