Ever since Brannon had stormed out of Olinger's office, he could sense that things had been off. Off in general, off between he and Archer, and off with the whole police force, really. Things were just fucking off. He wasn't quite sure why that was. He thought maybe it was because he had stormed out and slammed the door. But Archer would have told him if that was the case, right?
Archer would have told him whatever the case may be. Which was why it was, well, off. Was it something he had said? Was it something he did? We're their hours really just that much different? Couldn't be. Technically, he was still Archer's partner, right?
Right?
Maybe whatever Archer and Olinger had talked about 'in private' had changed that. But then, wouldn't they have told him?
And he understood having to split up during all of the blob chaos.. But you would have thought he and Archer would have partnered back up, by now. Maybe.
Never mind that he was sick. He would have at least seen Archer coming and going... Except Archer hadn't spend much time in their quarters, had he? Brannon O'Brien couldn't remember the last time he had been by himself for so long. He felt like he and Archer were inseparable. But maybe that wasn't the case, now. Maybe he needed to learn to grow up. It really was throwing him off. Upsetting him, even.
He would likely never admit it, but he missed Archer. Which was why Brannon was so grateful for Natasha's company the last two days. While she didn't take Brannon's mind completely off of Archer and such, she was a really good distraction.
After she had left earlier, Brannon had taken a nap. Dozing on and off throughout the evening, until he woke up a little and decided to read a little bit. Hound of the Baskervilles. Finally.
He was in his bed, in the blanket fort, reading by the small glow of his reading light when he heard the movement of what he assumed was Archer finally making it back to their place. Moving to lift his cell phone from resting on his chest, he glanced at the time. It was late. But what was new?
Setting his phone down, and then the book over it, on his chest, Brannon reached across with his hand not occupied with the book to pull back the blanket and peer out to see what all could be seen. Archer, of course. Watching the other man make his way into the room, Brannon eventually let his hand drop back down, letting the blanket fall back into place.