It's not been an easy few days for Ben -- but who does have it easy, these days? He's not looking particularly well rested when he's knocking on Harper's office door bright and early on a Monday, but at least he's dragged himself out of the rut of hoodies and jeans he's been wearing and he's got a suit and tie on. Leaning in partway through the door, "Morning."

"Hey, good morning. Come on in." She pushed away from her desk on her roller chair, leving off the crutches in favor of a quick zip across the office to her table. Rhinestones glittered on her air cast, barely seen from beneath the hem of her pants. "Close the door."

The rhinestones do catch his eye though, as quick of a flash as it is; they get a faint smile from him as he's coming into the room the rest of the way, shutting the door behind him afterward. He's a little slow to head on over to the table, but at least he is moving in that direction. Not particularly avoidant, though he might be overcompensating a touch for wanting to be, because he's watching Harper just a little too closely. "So."

She caught at the table, slowing her bedazzled self down. "So." She gestured for the chair next to hers, and started out. "I'm just going to say it, because I know you are probably wondering, so we'll just get it out of the way. No, I have not talked to anyone about what we discussed when you came to see me. And no, I did not call you in here to fire you."

The first, he'd figured was the case (hoped, thought it likely), but the second? Yeah, he's surprised, and it shows, but he doesn't ask about it. Expression goes neutral quick enough, and he's taking a seat next to her. "Okay, that's ... really good to know. Would you still have told Colt to find me if we hadn't had that talk?" There's something almost wary in the way he's watching her now, but maybe it's just careful study.

"Yes. Your message didn't sound good and you didn't answer when I told you to come in." She watched him from behind the rims of her red glasses, running the edge of her thumbnail along the woodgrain of her table.

A slight catch of his lower lip between his teeth, and he doesn't avert his eyes until a few seconds pass and he's shrugging, leaning back in his chair, looking off to one side. "Okay. So.." And then he's sitting up straighter, looking at her again. "What did you call me in for?"

"Well, I gotta be honest, that stunt got attention. And there's the issue of Colton. He's nervous with you, and I ... can't explain, but it makes me nervous. So we need to reassign you. And I want to talk to you about options and some things I want you to think about for me."

"It wasn't a stunt," it's defensive, but all that dissipates when he sighs, leaving him just mildly sullen. "Right, Colton. Options, okay."

"The Bossman heard about the locate order. And given everything that's been going on, the stress that those who are left are under, he's concerned. So, you should know that, too." Still watching his reactions, but being as frank and positive as she can be about it all. "It is what it is."

Another deep breath, holding it for a few seconds before nodding. "Right. Great. It is what it is." Trying his best to keep composed, and really, he does it well, other than that hint of moodiness, the slight slump of his shoulders, vaguely defeated -- but really, shouldn't that be expected?

"So here's what I want to do. Temporarily, I'm going to bring you in-house. I have some case files that we haven't gotten very far on but that I think still have enough life in them that we might be able to make some progress on with a fresh set of eyes... Bone up on them, dig in and write up your recommendations for field activity or anything you see that doesn't look like we've followed far enough. With your police experience, you'll probably see things that got overlooked."

Ben doesn't look particularly thrilled about Harper's proposition -- he's the type of guy that wants to be in the field, can tell that just by his energy, a little restless -- but just like she'd said and he'd echoed, it is what it is. Resigned, he's tilting his head a little to one side, as if this actually is something in which he has any choice in the matter, but then he's nodding again. "Sounds like something I can handle."

"Good," she rolled her lips in, considering, before going on. "I think there is the potential for you to have ... an interesting career here. But you have to make a decision, because I know my boss well enough to know he's going to start digging."

"What kind of interesting?" That's already wary, and it shifts easily into near-suspicion, the slight narrowing of his eyes, purse of his lips. "What kind of decision?"

"Interesting," she said with an intimation of a tone that said he hadn't seen the half of what went on in their little corner of the world yet. "And I want you to tell De Muer about your situation. He's going to figure it out. It will be so, so much better if he hears it from you."

He is intrigued by that, even though there aren't any details -- but then she goes on, and her request gets a ghost of a scoff from him, stifled; he's shaking his head and sitting back in his chair, incredulous. "You're kidding me, right?"

"Nope." She popped the 'p' and continued to gaze steadily at him. She was dead serious. "Everyone has secrets, Ben, but this is the kind of business where secrets can get you killed if you're sent ito the wrong situation for your talents and challenges. That's been Colt's issue with you - not that you're interested in his sister - but he can smell secrets like nobody's business and it's hard to trust a partner who is keeping huge sh*t from you. And he's got no nose at all compared to Alain DeMuer. Your best bet... you want to be trusted, you've got to trust us. I know it's hard, so I want you to think about it. But, Sam - I know you're listening. Think about the odds. You know I'm right. And I think you do, too, Ben."

He'd been looking away, but when Harper started to explain, Ben met her gaze. His own is guarded, and he's practiced in that (though something in it slips, almost imperceptible, when she mentions Jackie, only for a split second); it's a little bit heated, and grows moreso when she addresses Sam, though he remains himself, doesn't go anywhere. "Look, I know that this is a ... sort of unfair secret to keep from people in a situation like this. But even if I tell people -- Colt, DeMuer -- is that really going to help? Great, they'll trust that I'm not keeping anything from them, but then they just know that it's not me they need to worry about trusting half the time -- that trusting me doesn't necessarily mean anything." There's something sort of stricken about all that, and at the end of all that he looks like he's about to say something else, but doesn't.

"This is your shoebox," she responded. "Fill it."

((live play with AL Harper -- many thanks!))