Chapter Text
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It started off innocently enough. On a chilly early winter morning, NYPD Detectives Lennie Briscoe and Mike Logan were chasing down another lead in what was turning out to be a dead-end case.
“One more of these knucklehead stops, Lennie, and I’m going to lose it.” Mike bemoaned as they stepped into yet another apartment building. They were going for a record today, Mike thought begrudgingly.
Lennie’s voice piped up from behind him, patting him on the shoulder. “Cheer up, Mikey, at least the girls are pretty.”
Logan couldn’t help but smirk. Although it took a little bit of time for Mike to get used to Lennie Briscoe, the two cynical detectives started clicking in no time. He was different from his previous partners: Max Greevey, whose death hit Mike hard, and Phil Ceretta, who Mike was glad pulled through getting shot while undercover. Logan often wondered, looking at Lennie, if he was seeing his future.
“No dice.” Lennie sighed after yet another dead end. “Hey, Mike, whaddya say we hit the nearest watering hole?”
“What is this, the Prohibition? And besides, I thought you didn’t drink.”
Lennie was putting his hands into his gloves, shrugging. “I don’t, it’s just some people know things, you know?”
Mike acquiesced, shrugging, and the two detectives made to return to their car before Mike felt something brush his leg. Before he turned to Lennie to ask why he was trying to trip him, Mike took notice of what nearly made him eat concrete.
It was a tiny little dog, covered in black fur, with tufts of brown and white on its coat. It padded right in front of Mike’s tall frame, ears askew, staring up at the tall human that it nearly made trip and fall. Mike was struck by its amber-brown eyes, looking up at him like it was analyzing Mike, unafraid. The dog reminded Mike of himself, in a way, and Mike knew he was in trouble.
“Hey there, little one,” Mike said softly, kneeling down cautiously so as to not scare the dog away. He turned to his partner, “Hey Lennie, can you hand me my leftovers?”
“Yeah, okay. Why?”
“Just got a stray here. Just want to check its tag.”
Lennie came around to Mike, and looked down at what he perceived as a mutt. “What are we, animal rescue?”
Mike huffed. “Just do it, will ya?”
Lennie sighed as he reached into the car and grabbed the take-out bag with Mike’s leftover burger in it. “There ya go.”
“Thanks,” Mike said appreciatively as he reached in and broke off a piece of the beef patty to entice the small dog. “Hey there, little guy.” He slowly held out his hand, ignoring Lennie’s warning of “Rabies, Mikey,” and waited patiently to see if the dog would trust him.
To Lennie’s surprise, the little dog did not bite his partner. Instead, the little one approached Mike’s outstretched hand warily, sniffing at the piece of the beef patty. Licking at it and deciding it was delicious, the little black dog scarfed the food, delighting Mike who let out a relieved laugh.
Mike decided to give the little one a few more pieces before trying to pet it, and fortunately, the little one was more than happy to receive pats. Its coat was dirty and matted from being on the streets, and Logan saw that it had a collar, but no tag. Checking underneath, Mike discovered that it was a boy dog. Maybe I could make Lost Dog signs, the detective thought to himself. It was obvious to him that he could not leave the little one roaming the cold New York streets. Mike picked him up, to Lennie’s disdain, and held him close once he realized the little dog was shivering a little. The little puppy was overjoyed and began peppering Mike with little thankful dog kisses.
Mike caught Lennie’s stare, waving him off. “Look, I want to do at least one good deed today, okay?”
“Fine fine, just don’t get fleas in the car.” Lennie said as they both slid into their vehicle, “By the way, while you were busy saving the dog, just got a page to drop by Stone’s office - you, me - and I guess Benji here.”
“Benji, huh?” Mike smirked.
Lennie shrugged as he got into the driver’s seat. “Yeah, what else should I call him? Lassie?”
Ben Stone, EADA, sat at his office desk feeling tired, despite it being early in the work day. He couldn’t remember feeling so worn-down for so long. It seemed that every case the had tried that year kept chipping at his morals, his ethics. The world was changing, and so, it seemed, was the justice system. Not for the first time did Ben start thinking about life beyond the walls of the District Attorney’s office, away from Court Street, all of it.
A soft knock sounded on the door and Ben beckoned for the individual to enter. Claire Kincaid, his assistant, stepped through, smiling kindly at Ben. He was grateful for Claire. They had undergone a few growing pains in learning how to work together, but he was impressed by her drive, her earnestness, and her intellect. He knew she could go far and be very successful in whatever she set her mind to. Ben had a reputation for being hard on his assistants. Paul Robinette, Claire’s predecessor, had the longest tenure of any of Ben’s previous assistants. Ben was sorry to see him go but was excited for his future - even if it meant seeing him across the courtroom as a defense attorney.
“Hi Ben, just got off the phone with Van Buren. She said Briscoe and Logan are en route…”
Ben nodded, acknowledging Claire as he let his mind wander. He couldn’t help it.
Mike Logan.
It was silly, Ben thought to himself, this little workplace attraction to Mike Logan. He kept his attraction a secret. On the outside, he had fashioned an exterior where it appeared that he had no interest in romantic entanglements; that he was too much of a workaholic to pursue any relationship. On the rare occasions that Ben did, they often fell apart because of his work commitments.
Adam often intimated his concern over Ben’s workaholic tendencies, afraid that his favorite ADA would burn himself out. In recent months, Ben thought that Adam might have a point on probable burnout. Maybe a vacation was in order. Or maybe he should get a cat. He had read somewhere that they were good for stress relief. It wasn’t that Ben didn’t do anything outside of work to relieve stress - once or twice a week he’d meet Jack for tennis, and Ben made sure to get in the occasional jog before work in the mornings. They all helped for a moment, but once he got into work - the stress, the burden of upholding the law was back, weighing him down.
Even if he was particularly adversarial, seeing Mike Logan was still a highlight of Ben’s day. From the early days of working with the detective, Ben Stone fell hard for the younger man. The attorney had secretly identified, for years now, as a bisexual. In his younger years, before he became a prosecutor, Ben used to frequent the occasional gay bar or bathhouse. However, after the Jack Curry trial, in which he was assaulted by a gay rights activist, he thought it best not to visit those establishments anymore. At least, not the bathhouses.
Not that it stopped Ben from appreciating or entertaining beauty, or the occasional one-night stand - he was a man with needs, after all. In regards to Mike, Ben never expected his attraction to be reciprocated; Mike Logan’s reputation for being a ladies’ man was well documented. Oftentimes, the prosecutor would walk into his office and overhear Mike talking to his partner about his latest conquest. Each mention stung, but Ben was used to one-sided attractions. Ben only hoped that maybe, one day, he’d be so lucky to find someone. Jack often tried to set him up on dates, but he had started to turn those opportunities down. Maybe, he thought with a sense of wry humor, I’d have a decent chance in a nursing home.
“Sounds good, Claire,” Ben replied with a small smile before they commiserated over the work agenda for the day. Deciding to make the most of her time before the detectives arrived, Claire went back to her cubicle to type up some summary reports leaving Ben alone with his thoughts.
Getting out of their car, Lennie Briscoe rolled his eyes as Mike started to gather Benny up. “Leave Benji in the car, Mike.”
Mike looked at his partner like he grew two heads. “Can’t do that, Lennie.” He said steadfastly, as he bundled up a sleepy pup in his scarf, tucking him into his coat. “It’s too cold for him.”
“You gonna carry your little bundle of joy in your coat like that? You wanna get fleas?”
“It’s freezing, Lennie. Besides, I thought fleas didn’t like the cold.”
“Not sure about that, Mike. What about your scarf?” Lennie asked, with some concern.
Mike shrugged. “I can get a new one if it gets flea-infested, I guess.”
“Fine, but don’t expect to call me the father.” Lennie wisecracked as the little dog somehow settled around Mike’s midsection, making the taller man look pregnant, Mike’s arms supported him, holding the little pup close. The two detectives made their way to the street level and into One Hogan Place, puppy in tow.
A few moments later, Ben, Claire, Mike, and Lennie were in the middle of discussing the detectives’ findings in the midst of reassessing a case. Five minutes into the meeting, Ben realized that something was off with Mike. For one thing, he had not removed his coat, despite the room being warm. Lennie, ever the joker, made several puns and allusions to Mike and his “bundle of joy,” and Ben had to smother a smirk at the eye daggers Logan was shooting at his partner.
Soon, the bundle gave itself up as soft little growls and a little bark sounded out from Mike’s midsection. Lennie’s brows raised up in a humorous expression, as Mike sighed deeply.
“Sorry, I found a stray when we were just investigating a lead an hour ago, before you guys called,” He loosened his coat, and the two attorneys couldn’t help smiling as a little black dog popped its head out of Mike’s leather coat. “I couldn’t leave it out in the cold. Might go make some lost dog signs later.”
Ben, case discussion forgotten, got up to look at the little pup, his eyes twinkling. Mike was struck by the attorney’s expression. He’d expected Claire to react that way, which she did - cooing and making cute talk with the puppy - but Ben’s reaction was unexpected. Dare he think it, but Mike thought Ben’s reaction adorable. However, the detective quickly shook the thought out of his head - he worked with Ben Stone long enough to know the prosecutor didn’t swing that way.
Mike considered himself a “take all comers” kind of guy - he didn’t discriminate. Not many people knew he swung both ways; he just happened to talk about women a lot more. The NYPD wasn’t too accepting of same-sex relationships. Not that Mike was in many long-term relationships as it was; just a lot of short-term sexual connections.
Not for the first time did Mike consider Ben once again. The attorney was an intriguing prospect to Mike. He knew that somewhere under the professional exterior, there had to be some sort of passionate individual underneath. He respected Ben Stone as a colleague; he was devoted to maintaining the law and doing the right thing, even when he butted heads with his detectives. Ben and Mike never strayed from confrontation, but the respect was always there. Mike always knew where Ben stood on things, and he respected him for that. But relationships? Mike was convinced Ben was celibate.
Ben leaned in to pet the little puppy and Mike was struck by the scent of Ben’s cologne, his proximity, his soft voice, and his gentle demeanor. “Hi there, little one,” Ben greeted the little dog, and Mike sensed himself feeling a little warmer under the collar as his green eyes met Ben’s cool gaze, “May I hold him?”
“Uh…sure,” Mike replied absentmindedly, as he pulled the bundled pup of out his coat as Lennie muttered “Fleas” to the pair, who were clearly not listening.
Belatedly acknowledging Lennie’s warning, Mike warned Ben that the little pup probably had fleas and that maybe he didn’t want it on his suit.
“Oh, it’s fine.” Ben replied smoothly, not caring, “I can always get my suit dry-cleaned.”
Soon, Mike was not the only surprised individual in the room - Lennie and Claire were both astonished by Ben’s change in demeanor as he held the little dog. He moved back to his office chair, dog in his arms, and without missing a beat, resumed the meeting.
The little pup had a funny little quirk, Mike noticed. He had a tendency to pause mid-lick. He was reminded of it as he watched Ben hold the pup. It had begun to lick at Ben’s face and paused mid-lick, tongue still on Ben’s cheek as if contemplating what he was licking. Ben laughed at the sensation, and Mike couldn’t help but chuckle silently. The little dog had done to same to him in the car on the way to the DA’s Office.
Nearing the end of their meeting, Stone’s office phone rang. Ben answered, and glancing at the detectives, handed them the receiver, saying it was for them.
“Briscoe.” Lennie greeted gruffly as he listened intently. He replied with his acknowledgment and put the phone back in its cradle. He looked at Mike, “We’ve been summoned. Profaci said uniforms made Smith making a delivery at a storage unit on Sutphin.”
Mike got up, feeling for his gloves, looking at Lennie, suddenly remembering the little dog. “Oh crap. What do I do about -”
“I can watch this little one.” Ben offered abruptly, to everyone’s surprise. He shrugged, “I don’t have any meeting scheduled after this one. It’s just a lot of reading and editing briefs.”
“Okay, thanks,” Mike replied gratefully as he made his way to the door. “I’ll call when we’re on the way back.”
“Sounds good,” Ben nodded, before remembering a vital question, “Wait! Mike, what’s his name?”
Benji! “ Uh, Benny!” Mike called out, not realizing he misspoke as he ran after Lennie.
Claire and Ben exchanged glances.
Claire stared at Logan and Briscoe walking away briskly, turning back to Ben. “Did he just say Benny?”
Mike and Lennie were en route to the site, when Briscoe turned to his partner, who was driving. “So. Benny, huh?”
“What?”
“You told Ben and Claire the dog’s name was Benny.” Lennie reminded his younger partner.
“No, I didn’t,” Mike said, suddenly doubting himself, “Wait, did I?”
“Freudian slip, Mikey?” Lennie chuckled.
“It’s not like anyone knew Benny- I mean Benji’s name. You came up with it.” Mike replied defensively.
“Uh huh.” Lennie chuckled, “So when are you going to tell Stone, huh?”
Mike scoffed, bristling a little at Lennie’s question. “I’m not.”
“Wait,” Lennie held up his hands, “The Great Mike Logan, boaster of all conquests, unable to seal the deal with someone? Clutch my pearls, Sally, it’s a miracle.”
Mike shook his head at Lennie’s wisecracks, before speaking, in a hushed tone, “Look, Lennie. I don’t think Stone even goes that way.”
“How do you know?”
“I mean, have you ever seen him look at anyone?” Mike asked, glancing at his partner. “He doesn’t even look at Claire like that, and Claire’s gorgeous!”
“It’s because Stone is the most professional sonofabitch we know,” Lennie laughed, “Guy, girl, he’s not going to make a move on a co-worker.”
Mike held out a hand in agreement, “Exactly, you said it.”
“Not in his office, Mikey.” Lennie clarified. “He’s not Jack McCoy.”
Mike frowned, “What does that mean?”
“Meaning, although he might not date someone in his office - maybe he’d date a cop? Might be free game.” Lennie said, in a sing-songy tone, laughing at the light punch on the shoulder from his partner.
As their laughter subsided, Mike pointedly kept his eyes on the road, letting out a sigh. “Look, I appreciate what you’re saying, Lennie, but I don’t think it’ll happen.”
“Okay,” Lennie shrugged. “So…why do we keep talking about your sometimes fake, sometimes real conquests every time he walks in the office?”
“Hey hey hey hey, they’re not fake, pal.” Mike said, defensively.
“Still - it’s not making him jealous, which is what I know you were trying to do.” Briscoe replied, amused.
“I dunno. Maybe he just doesn’t get jealous.” Mike shrugged, he knew it was a lost cause. “I don’t think Ben looks at me that way.”
Briscoe stared out of the car window. “Eh. Maybe he’s just really good at hiding it.”
"Benny. Is that your name, little one?” Ben cooed at the black puppy next to him. Earlier, Ben had situated the puppy in a corner near his desk, lining the floor with layers of newspaper, and tried to use stacks of legal books as sort of a make-shift playpen. Claire had made a run to the nearest pet store to grab some puppy food for the dog and had picked up dishes for food and water in addition to some dog toys. The squeaking sounds of Benny biting at a toy could be heard from the hallway. Soon, Ben’s office became a social affair - the news that he had a puppy in his office had spread like wildfire. Normally, Ben would have problems with having so many visitors, but not in this case. Even Jack McCoy, who flat out denied that he was trying to date Claire, and Adam had come by. As the evening approached, visitors trickled down and Ben was grateful for the peace and quiet.
Benny, as Ben continued to refer to the puppy, tuckered out from all the attention and fell asleep. Ben was actually able to get some work done in the meantime. He decided that he liked having Benny in the office - there was truth to the study that pets helped to lower stress levels. The next time Mike came in, Ben thought maybe he would tell the detective that he could volunteer to babysit the little dog from time to time. If he needed.
Ben’s professional side tried to tell him that that was impossible - that he couldn’t possibly watch a little puppy with his schedule. The other part of him argued back that he could. Who was Ben to argue? After a solid half-an-hour nap, the little puppy was back up and managed to renegotiate his placement, by barks and playful growls, to be closer to Ben. By the time Claire came in again to check on the two, Benny was laying on Logan’s scarf on an office chair situated next to her boss.
“Hey, Ben.” Claire greeted, watching as Benny got up and stretched, once again, trying to renegotiate with the blue-eyed attorney, this time, to get onto his desk. “Just got a call from Van Buren. They were able to apprehend Smith.”
“That’s good.” Ben nodded, his hand moving to pet Benny. Claire loved seeing this softer side to Ben. It was a side that most people, especially in the office didn’t get to see. She had to fight a little squeal as Ben wrapped the scarf about Benny and cradled him in one arm. Satisfied with his success, Benny licked at Ben’s face. Ben realized that Claire was grinning at him, “This little guy’s tougher than most defense attorneys that I’ve gone up against. Refuses to back down.”
“We’ll make sure he never takes the bar, then,” Claire replied, chuckling. “Are we still sure his name is Benny?”
“I’m not sure myself anymore, but that’s what I’ve been calling him.” Ben conceded but did not yet admit he didn’t want to call the dog anything else.
“Maybe you can ask Mike again what the little guy’s name is when he picks him up.” Claire offered.
Ben shrugged, before nodding. A small part of him was hoping Benny was an intentional choice on Logan’s part. Wishful thinking, he was sure, but the thought made him happy. “Yeah, yeah. Maybe I will.”
Hours later, when Mike finally arrived to pick Benny up, Ben just happens to forget to ask.