The more time Bad Cop spent in Benny's body, the more he realized just how awkward getting used to it was going to be. He'd gotten into Benny's uniform, and had felt strangely small. He was accustomed to being taller than everybody around him, and it was disconcerting to be at eye-level with Jenkins' chin.
Benny had gotten a lot calmer in the backseat now that he was more aware of the outside world, but there was also a lot less privacy between them now. So far, it hadn't been much of a problem (though Bad Cop suspected his new ability to float was washing over from Benny's mind), since all of their activities so far were purely work-focused. There was organizing a team to investigate the wreckage of the station and salvage what they could from it, then relocating cops to different precincts. He and Benny went personally to the ruined station to rummage through his office. Fortunately, it was one of the least damaged areas, and he was able to rescue most of his files. He had them transported to the nearest station, where he set up his new base of operations.
Bad Cop had commandeered a corner desk at the back of the station, from where he shouted orders into the phone and at surrounding officers, trying to restore some sense of order. It turned out that a couple other stations had been hit as well, presumably to act as decoys or distractions and to ensure chaos. It certainly had worked.
Then Business showed up, shoving his way through the crowd to Bad Cop's desk. Bad Cop tried his best to stamp down the swirling emotions bubbling up in his chest so they wouldn't overlap onto Benny, but he couldn't stop it completely. His own anger tangled with Benny's.
Business slammed his hands down on the desk. "Where's Bad Cop?" he growled. "I need to talk to him."
Bad Cop swallowed the bile rising in his throat. "You already are."
Business' brow furrowed into a glare. "This isn't a joke, Chu."
Bad Cop snatched his aviators off the desk and shoved them on. "Do I look like I'm feeling particularly humorous right now?" he snapped back. "Don't ask, just accept it. Now what do you want?"
Business leaned forward, his eyes searching Bad Cop's face. Finally, he said, "I was trying to figure out why no one's seen you since the explosion."
"Worried about me, are ye?" Bad Cop replied, his words dripping with sarcasm.
And then, unexpectedly, Business' gaze dropped. "Yes," he said quietly.
The sincerity in Business' tone made Bad Cop's mouth go dry. He forced down surfacing memories before Benny could see them and mustered an attempt at scorn. "Well, that's a first."
Business clenched his jaw, his hands balling up on the cheap wood surface of the desk. "I'm changing, Bad Cop," he said. "I'm trying to be a better person."
Bad Cop nearly snapped the pencil he was holding. "Are you trying to have a heart-to-heart with me?" he snarled. "Now? Look around you. I've got bigger things to worry about. If you're not going to be helpful, then get out."
Business looked back up at Bad Cop, his expression unreadable. "Actually, I am here to help," he said, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a folded piece of paper, unfolding it as he continued, "I made a list of all the construction sites that I saw the Duplos hanging around, when I saw them, and how often."
Bad Cop took the sheet of notebook paper. It was filled top to bottom, margin to margin, with Business' neat, precise handwriting. He scanned it briefly, then looked at Business again. The former overlord almost seemed… nervous? No – there was a hopeful tint to it. It was a look that Bad Cop had never in a million years thought he would see on Business' face.
Business was seeking Bad Cop's approval. He wanted to be told he'd done good.
Oh, how the tables turn.
There was once a time, not too long ago, that Bad Cop would have bent over backward (and forward) to get the slightest praise from Business, and even the tiniest morsel of approval was hard-won.
And now Bad Cop had the power. After eight and a half years, Bad Cop had the upper hand.
The realization sent a thrill of exhilaration through him. Carefully, he set the paper down on the desk in front of him and folded his hands on top of it. He looked Business dead in the eye and said, "Adequate work."
Bad Cop felt a kind of sick pleasure as he watched his former boss' reaction. Business' face went slack, then began to flush with humiliated anger. He opened his mouth to retort, then slowly closed it again as a new comprehension dawned over him. His throat worked for a moment, then he replied hoarsely, "Thank you."
Bad Cop's expression set in dark satisfaction. "Dismissed," he said.
Business swallowed and straightened up. With one last look at Bad Cop, he turned away and pushed off through the crowd, head down and shoulders tense.
Bad Cop watched him go.
Then he realized that Benny had seen the whole thing.
But the spaceman was oddly quiet.
Ben? he asked cautiously.
Dude, Benny said shakily. I…
Benny fell silent again, seemingly unable to find the words he wanted. He probably now had a pretty clear idea of what Bad Cop's relationship with Business had been. Bad Cop was just glad that none of his more graphic memories had sprung forward. Ben… He rubbed his hands over his face, taking off his aviators. I should have told you.
Through the whole exchange with Business, Benny had been doing something akin to holding his breath, and now he released it. A tumult of emotions poured out – worry, horrified realization, the desire to hug Bad Cop, anger, and a general urge to cry.
Bad Cop put his head in his hands.
It's okay, man, Benny said after a moment, trying to collect himself. It's… Shit, Bad Cop. I wish I'd realized how much he messed you up.
It's not all his fault. Bad Cop sighed. I was just as complicit. I let him. I did a lot of awful things, and this doesn't excuse anything.
If Benny were in control, he would be tearing his hair out. He was abusing you, dude! I thought it was just what he did to Good Cop, but… The whole time? The whole time! And now he wants to make nice? This is such bull-
Ben, Bad Cop interrupted. Please. This is between me and Business. I don't want you getting involved.
Benny didn't reply, fuming silently instead. Bad Cop could tell the spaceman disagreed wholeheartedly with that idea, but Bad Cop didn't want Benny to end up in Business' path. Business may be trying to reform, but Bad Cop knew better than anybody how volatile his former boss could be.
You don't need to protect me, Benny muttered.
Bad Cop shook his head. I know you're capable of taking care of yourself. Just… Can we talk about this later?
Whatever Benny was going to say, he never got the chance. An officer came rushing out of the crowd and skidded to a stop in front of the desk. "Sir," he panted. "I think you need to see this."
Bad Cop stood up, looking around the station. While he'd been deep in conversation with Benny, he'd missed how everyone was beginning to gravitate towards the TV in the far corner. He followed the officer over, shoving his way to the front. When he saw the screen, his blood froze in his veins.
It was Kinzel, sitting casually in a chair and smiling into the camera. A woman matching Jenkins' description stood at his shoulder.
"So if I've got your attention now," Kinzel was saying, as if having a chat over a cup of coffee. "I'd like to introduce you to my guests." He gestured off to the side, and the camera swiveled to show two men, each tied to a chair and gagged.
Emmet and Good Cop.
Bad Cop swallowed as Kinzel walked into the frame, coming to stand between the two chairs and leaning on them. "This is a personal message for a special someone," he said, smirking. "You know who you are."
Bad Cop felt as if Kinzel was looking straight at him through the TV, nailing him to the spot.
"Let's play a little game," Kinzel said, ruffling Good Cop's hair. Good Cop tried to jerk away, but Kinzel fisted his hand in Good Cop's hair in response, pulling. Good Cop let out a muffled cry of pain, and fury blazed through Bad Cop.
Kinzel hadn't looked away from the camera the whole time. "I've left a couple of hints around. You've got twenty-four hours to find me. Then the cop dies." He released Good Cop and leaned over towards Emmet, patting the construction worker's cheek. Emmet kept his gaze fixed firmly on the ground. "After that, you've got another twenty-four before the Special dies." He gave Emmet's head a little shove and moved towards the camera. Bending close, he smiled brightly and said, "I guess you could call this a declaration of war. Catch me…" He winked. "If you can."
The screen went black.