Brannon grabbed up a bottle of beer from the refrigerator and straigtened up, pushing the door closed. Giving a look to Archer, he shrugged as carelessly as he possibly could. It was hard. But he did. Deep down, he was actually bothered by all of this. He had thought that he and Archer were brothers, you know, best friends, pals, partners. But it seemed that Olinger had put a wedge between them. Or maybe Olinger had just been the beginning. Maybe there were other things too. But how was Brannon supposed to know? Archer wasn't telling him jack shit.
"I mean, it is a two way street. Is there anything you would like to tell me? Since," he gave another shrug, "I'm, you know, supposedly your partner and all."