Chapter Text
Benoit steps out of the ugly green room.
He lingers for a few seconds in front of the door, before walking towards the main entrance, or from his point of view the exit, of the police station.
He crosses paths with the hysterical woman and her wife, throwing them a small smile.
He steps over the threshold of the door and can finally breathe fresh air.
The detective takes a deep breath and slowly lets it out again.
Now he can actually think. Outside of the stuffy interrogation room, painted in that horrible green with the uncomfortable chairs.
Although he said to Miss Woods to rest for the night he walks for a bit, thinking.
About how they’re going to prove Miss Bonafonté’s innocence and who the actual murder could be.
The man pulls out his little ipad and begins to research about the woman’s workplace.
He finds out that the salon she works at is in the process of being bought by a big business. He sadly can’t find out more about it, because the business doesn’t really say anything about how the process will look.
After a bit more thinking the detective decides that it’s probably time to go home.
He hails a cab and gives the driver his address.
The drive doesn’t take long enough to dive deep into thinking about the case again, which is probably a good thing. He really doesn’t want to take the emotional turmoil of the day with him into his home.
Not that it is his own emotion swirling around in the open space.
The cab halts and he gives the driver the requested money.
Benoit steps out of the car, walks towards the door and pulls his keys out of his pocket. He opens the front door and begins to climb the endless stairs up to his apartment.
He pulls his keys out of his coat pocket a second time to unlock the door. But before he can insert them in the lock the door swings open.
He’s greeted with the gorgeous sight of his husband. Clad in a robe and two different socks, hair disheveled from sleep.
He has to push back the urge to coo at the man before him.
Instead he just takes a big step and puts his arms around his husband.
He feels the other man sink into the embrace and hears him let out a sigh.
Benoit takes a small step towards him, giving a little urge to walk inside and close the door.
“I missed you”, he hears the man say.
“I was only gone for 3 hours, Phillip” Benoit responds.
“I know, but you know I fall asleep easier with you by my side, dear”.
The detective sits them down on the sofa, still caught in the embrace. He presses a kiss against Phillip’s temple when they settle on the sofa.
“I missed you too” Benoit whispers.
They sit cuddled together in silence for a moment until Benoit begins to talk about his day.
“You know that lawyer that was in the newspaper a while ago? The one that proved her clients innocence by questioning the actual murderer about perm proceedings.” The detective asks his husband.
“Oh yes, what was her name again? Miss Forest?”
“Miss Woods” he gently interrupts Phillip.
“Ah right, Woods. Yes I remember her. Didn’t the papers say that she also only dressed in pink?” He asks Benoit.
“Yes they did. And I can testify to that, because I met her today.”, “Really?” Phillip questions. “Really” the detective answers.
“I think she wasn’t even there in her usual capacity.”
“What do you mean by that, dear?”
“I mean that she wasn’t there as a lawyer but as a friend. Her friend was arrested and looked genuinely panicked the whole time so i think she initially came with her as emotional support. But as it is, she’s also a lawyer so Miss Woods was already kind of defending her.” Benoit explains to his darling husband.
“That’s a really nice thing to do. Supporting your friend even if they allegedly did something illegal. Though I suppose they didn’t because you were there.” Phillip deduces smartly.
“You are right as always, darlin’. The friend, a woman who walks in a salon is accused of murdering her client.”
“That sounds serious”
“It is. But it is not true. At least that’s how I see it. I think this was the work of someone else, because at this point in time, the only motif the Miss has is disliking her client.” The detective explains.
“That sounds like one weak motif” his husband says.
Benoit begins to tell Phillip about more details from the case and they begin to finally let their bodies rest.
After what felt like hours they decide to leave the sofa for their much more comfortable bed.
They lay down together and talk a bit more.
Meaningless things, really, but meaningful in the way they’re said.
After a while the detective and his husband grow tired.
“G’night, my love” Phillip says, on the verge of sleep.
“Goodnight, sweetheart” Benoit responds.
Still not tired enough to sleep, he presses a kiss on his husband’s forehead and thinks a little bit more about his day and the new acquaintances he made.