It was 5:30. Benny and Bad Cop sat on a pile of pipes, eating sandwiches in companionable silence. Bad Cop was thoroughly exhausted, but in a good kind of way. He felt like he'd accomplished something, albeit something small. It was a good start anyway. The other workers avoided him if they could, but Benny kept him company. Wyldstyle had eased up a bit when she realized that Bad Cop's presence was actually focusing Benny, rather than the opposite.

Benny said something, but it was incomprehensible through his mouthful of peanut butter and jelly.

"Chew and swallow," Bad Cop said.

Benny skipped the 'chew' step and said again, "I heard Wyldstyle blew up at you earlier."

Bad Cop stiffened. "Who from?"

Benny was about to take another bite of his sandwich, but remembered he couldn't eat and talk at the same time and lowered it. "Emmet. He said you looked really shaken up. It worried him."

"Darn kid needs to mind his own business," Bad Cop muttered, and bit into his sandwich.

Benny was silent for a little while, staring down at his sandwich. Finally, he said, "There's something that's been bothering me for a while."

Bad Cop glanced over at him. His eyebrows were drawn together. "What?" Bad Cop asked.

"When you helped us escape from the Think Tank," Benny began. He hesitated a moment before continuing, "You said that you hoped there was still a good cop in you somewhere."

Bad Cop felt his stomach bottom out.

"Bad," Benny said. "Where's Good Cop?"

Bad Cop swallowed. He couldn't bring himself to answer.

"Does it have anything to do with…" Benny trailed off and pointed to his own face.

Bad Cop looked away. He'd been trying not to think about the scarring on the left side of his face from Business' "Good Cop cure." They were still relatively fresh – he'd only just taken off the bandages the day before Benny's very first visit. There were more scars in other, less visible places, but he wasn't about to tell Benny about those. Just the ones he could see were bad enough. "He's gone," Bad Cop said shortly.

Benny straightened up in alarm. "But how? Isn't he-"

"Enough," Bad Cop said, and it came out harsher than he'd meant it to. He looked down and realized he'd dug his fingers into his sandwich. More softly, he said, "I'd rather not talk about it, Ben."

Benny opened his mouth, but thought better of it and closed it again. "Sorry, dude," he said after a second.

Quiet settled between them. Across the dirt lot from them, the skyscraper was slowly being pieced back together.

Finally, Bad Cop broke the silence. "You wouldn't happen to have any napkins, would you?"

Benny looked at him in surprise, and Bad Cop held up his sandwich, fingers still halfway through it.

There was an awkward pause, and then Benny burst out laughing. It was infectious, and Bad Cop was suddenly struck with the ridiculousness of the situation and began to laugh along with him.

Benny fumbled for his spaceship-themed lunchbox and reached inside. "Here you go, man," he said, wheezing for air as he handed a couple of paper napkins over.

"It's a good thing I got turkey instead of peanut butter and jelly," Bad Cop chuckled as he wiped mustard off his hands.

"Yeah," Benny said. He'd gotten his giggles under control now, and he wiped a tear from the corner of his eye. "Our shift's over, what do you say we blow this popsicle stand? Go see a movie or something."

Bad Cop balled up the dirty napkins and shoved them into the plastic sandwich bag, along with the mutilated sandwich. "I dunno," he said. "I don't think I want to go anywhere else public."

"That's fine!" Benny said. "We could go back to your place if you're cool with that, make some popcorn."

"I don't have popcorn," Bad Cop said, then stopped and looked at Benny. "I have popcorn, don't I."

Benny nodded happily.

Bad Cop sighed. "Yeah, sure. Alright."

"Yes!" Benny punched the air. "C'mon, let's go!" He pushed off the top of the pile and drifted to the ground, and Bad Cop scrambled down after him.

"When Wyldstyle asked me to move my spaceship, I saw where you parked your car," Benny said as they walked. "So I figured I might as well park next to you."

Then they turned to corner onto the street they'd left their vehicles on, and Benny gasped. Bad Cop clenched his fists.

His police cruiser had been vandalized. The tires were slashed, the driver's side window was smashed, and it looked like someone had dragged a crowbar along the sides. Creative profanity had been spray-painted on the hood and windshield.

Bad Cop walked up to his car, scuffed at the broken glass on the asphalt with his shoe. Hit by a sudden surge of anger, he let out a hoarse scream and kicked the side of the car. His steel-toed boots left a dent.

"Whoa, hey," Benny said, putting a hand on his shoulder. "It's alright, man. My spaceship's got a clamp on the bottom, I can fly it home. And you know what?"

Bad Cop turned his head to look at Benny, who was grinning again. "What?"

"Well," Benny said. "I'm pretty good at building stuff, as you know. I can fix this right up, better than new!"

Strangely, that made Bad Cop feel a bit better. In the back of his head, he'd already begun running through all the things he'd need to do – take it to a mechanic, pay for it, deal with strangers… Knowing he didn't have to do that now was a relief. He sagged. "Thanks, Ben."

"What're friends for?" Benny said cheerily. "Let's get this mess home."