Chapter Text
It was an occupational hazard of being involved with a detective that strange and unsolvable mysteries will catch your eye.
At least, this was Jud’s experience every time he scanned a paper or opened his browser. What might once have been a fleeting moment of interest now grabbed his full attention and refused to let go, at least until he determined if this was a case that might interest his beloved.
Said beloved was already occupied and unavailable thousands of miles across the sea on this particular December morning, but that didn’t stop Jud from nearly spitting out his coffee as he read the headline in the metro section: “Infant Jesus Stolen from Met.”
“Holy shit, Connie, look at that.” Jud held the paper out over the floor, as if his porcine companion could actually read the words printed there.
Then again, Benoit insisted that their new family member was “as smart as any five year old child, and far cleaner, in my experience” so…maybe she could.
She certainly looked at the page, and then sat so that she could see Jud, as if she understood the import of the gesture.
Or maybe she just wanted more of the melon on his plate.
Jud shook his head, wondering at how he’d ended up talking to an illegal pig over breakfast.
__________________________
Three months ago, on one of the last hot days of early fall, Benoit had finally texted that he was almost home after a two week case in North Carolina, and could Jud plan to meet him on the sidewalk outside. Please.
Jud was instantly suspicious. This could not bode well.
But he’d never expected to be confronted with the sight of Benoit Blanc, impeccably dressed as ever, holding the leash of a moderately-sized pink pig wearing, it must be said, a fetching purple harness with rhinestones studding the joints.
Jud couldn't help but note that this harness was prettier than the collar he had tucked away in the bedside table upstairs.
His focus went back to the animal, contentedly sniffing the sidewalk around Benoit’s feet as the man himself affected his most charming expression.
Jud just stared.
Responding to the confusion and concern on Jud’s face, Ben added even more sweetness to that winning smile. When he spoke, his voice was pure honey.
“It's so good to see you, love. I missed you.”
Jud continued to stare, unmoved. “Uh huh.”
“Now, pet, before you panic...”
Too late.
“This here is Connie Francis Bacon..."
Oh, of fucking course, he’d named it.
“...and I had to bring her with me, it was a matter of life and death.”
Jud’s eyebrows raised just a hair, wondering exactly where this was going. “Uh huh.”
“Just because she happened to be the methodology by which this particular villain chose to dispose of his victims didn't mean that she deserved to meet their grisly fate. She had no idea what she was muchin’ away at, she was just havin' a good dinner.”
It took Jud’s morning brain a few seconds to parse this statement.
When he did, he kinda wished he hadn’t.
“Benoit, are you trying to tell me that you went away on a case for two weeks and CAME BACK WITH THE PIG THAT ATE THE BODIES?!?”
“Well…yes. I ‘suppose that’s about the size of it.”
Jud stared again at the creature, now leaning comfortably against Benoit’s leg and panting in the bright sunshine. Those teeth looked awfully sharp, shining in the light.
He nearly shuddered, but then he looked closer at his husband's face.
Benoit’s expression was anxious, with a note of pleading in the crinkles around his eyes. It was clear he couldn’t bear to see the creature suffer, no matter her deeds.
Jud paused for one moment, then sighed and gave in. What else could he do? This was the life he’d signed on for, tangled up with an adorable madman.
Maybe it would end being gnawed apart by his own pet, but those were the breaks.
“Connie Francis Bacon, huh?” He slowly bent his long legs into a crouch, getting eye to eye with their new guest for the first time.
The pig met his gaze with surprising intelligence, moved forward to gently sniff his hand with her snout. Jud laughed as the bristles tickled his palm.
Above him, he caught a glimpse of Ben relaxing as the tension went out of shoulders.
Jud smiled. There was something gratifying in knowing that he had had the power to say ‘no’ to this development, if he’d really wanted.
But, in for a penny, in for a man-eating pig.
Moving to scratch her soft ears, Jud looked up, “I’m guessing it is very illegal to keep a pig in New York City.”
“Oh, no doubt.” That infuriating confidence was back on full display, “But it just so happens that there’s more than a few folks in Animal Control who owe me favors for finding contraband creatures and what not."
"I think we might just get Ms. Connie here registered as a dog. Insult to her, of course. She’s prettier than any pup, aren’t you girl?” And he gave his new darling a besotted smile.
“Hey!” Jud stopped scratching and pouted. “I’m right here.”
Benoit chuckled at Jud's offended face, “Oh, all pups save one, obviously. You’re still my favorite,” and the hand that wasn’t holding Connie’s leash reached forward, carded through his curls.
Jud locked eyes with the pig, who looked smugly back at him.
He could already tell where this was going.
____________
Three months later, Jud didn’t quite feel like the “other man” in the relationship between Ben and Connie, but it was a near-run thing.
Under the premise of “you brought it home, you take care of it” Jud had mostly been able to avoid the day-to-day routine of pig care; feeding and baths and walks and what-not.
All those tasks had been taken up by her rescuer, who’d quickly gotten her registered as a “Giant Xoloitzcuintli-Bull Dog mix” and proceeded to check-out every book on pig care in the catalog of the New York Public Library.
It was pretty endearing to watch Benoit apply all of his intense focus to ensuring that Connie wanted for nothing, even in her unusual environment.
They were lucky in that she seemed to be about as intelligent and trainable as a pig could possibly be. It only took a week or so before she learned to use the “dog door” and let herself out to a designated spot for necessities, she respected the locks on the lower cabinets and restricted her digging to the mud patch outside.
She even learned to make a noise approximating a “bark” when folks questioned her species, much to Benoit’s endless amusement.
She had a large dog bed right next to theirs where she snuffled herself to sleep every evening, but only after a full half-hour of ear skritches.
Jud rolled his eyes as Benoit baby-talked her to sleep at night, calling her a “good piggly-wiggly” and commenting on how intelligent and pretty she was.
There were nights it got to the point that Jud pounced on him and demanded that he turn some of that praise in his direction, leading to endless teasing but also very satisfying reassurance that he remained the favorite pet of the house.
Benoit had even taken the creature with him on cases in, ones that didn’t require him to get on a plane, anyway. He enjoyed the reaction when he pulled up with his newest “Watson” in tow and had started training her to sniff out items at his direction. He would tell anyone who would listen how “his Connie” was picking all this up with impressive speed, sounding every inch the proud Papa.
Jud just hoped Ben wasn’t using her as a "cadaver pig.” They really didn’t need to revisit those instincts.
All-in-all, Jud and Connie had barely reached a detente when Benoit got the call for a case in New Zealand, of all places.
“No chance of you coming with, sweet girl” He’d cooed in her direction as he packed and she watched from her bed on the floor, “That’s too long a flight for you, and who knows what kinda diseases you might pick up on an island like that. Nope, you’re gonna stay here with Jud and the two of you will have a wonderful time.”
It was difficult to say who was more skeptical of this statement, man or pig.
“You’re gonna wear your nice coat outside, yeah? ‘Cause it’s cold out there now. And Jud will make sure you get lots of pets and some of those treats I picked up at the market last week.” Benoit carefully folded another pair of slacks, placed them gently into the case, “And you’ll be a good girl, won’t you?”
Connie did not respond.
Jud rolled his eyes. “Let’s not over-promise. I’ll feed you, Connie. Treats will be negotiated on a strict ‘What have you done for me, lately?’ basis.”
He paused, “And you’ll actually have to walk, not just saunter over to the nearest cafe and ‘help’ me eat pastries.” This last with a glare at his husband, who blushed but did not dispute the characterization.
“I’m sure you two will get along swimmingly. It’ll be nice for you to bond a bit. I want my good girl and good boy to be friends.”
Jud gave an exasperated sigh and flopped on the bed, “It would be easier to like her if she wasn’t given top billing.”
Connie snorted. It sounded suspiciously like triumph.
___________________________
Which led them back to the breakfast table, and the melon, and the story in the paper.
Jud had to admit, Connie was growing on him.
Without the jealousy he felt at the attention she garnered from their mutual favorite person, he was able to focus on how responsive she was to mood, how soft and kind her eyes were, the way the solid weight of her sitting beside him in front of the fire was grounding and comfortable.
She, in turn, seemed to appreciate that this secondary human was, if not as beloved as the first, also able to provide food and scratches and was more inclined to let her roam about the city to her heart’s content, even in bad weather.
Jud had had to laugh after their first stroll around the winter city. He’d assumed that Connie had been the one cutting walks short due to her short legs and stout frame, but it was clear from the way she trotted happily at Jud’s side for miles that he’d had the shoe on the wrong cloven hoof.
She’d even shown him some of her tricks; tracking down lost mittens in the snow, picking up the scent of the bakery owner down the street and following it right back to her apartment across town, presumably on the assumption this was the source of the apple turnovers she couldn’t get enough of.
Jud had been honestly impressed.
So, when the Director of the Met had called at about 9:30, looking for Benoit Blanc to help solve the case, Jud hadn’t just put him off as he normally would have.
What if…just maybe…these two Watsons teamed up to try to solve “The Mystery of the Missing Baby” all on their own? No detective required.
It was a bit of a crazy notion, but he’d worked a few cases with Ben over the years and he knew some people. Folks would recognize him as The Great Detective’s husband, and that might be enough of an ‘in’, especially since they couldn’t get the real deal at the moment.
Benoit had said he wanted the two of them to bond. What better way than solving a case together?
Plus, Jud had seen this Infant Jesus just three days ago, when he’d visited the Met to view their Christmas exhibit on the evolution of Nativity scenes from across their collection.
It had been quite incredible to look out over the hundreds of depictions of the Holy Family, from ones made by unknown craftsmen at the dawn of Christianity all the way to contemporary artists.
Each piece showed how understanding of that divine moment had altered and changed over time but the fundamental story, of a man and woman welcoming a child, had remained the same.
The missing Jesus had been set apart, its golden halo set off against the plain wood of the manger made by the museum for display.
There was a sweetness to the Infant's face that had moved Jud, particularly amongst the depictions of Christ by artists who might as well never have seen an actual human baby.
And, yes, he knew that there was a time that the Infant Lord was meant to be shown as a man at infant size to demonstrate how not a normal child He was, but it just looked so wrong.
The stolen baby looked like a baby, and yet also with a mature sadness in the expression that was somewhat heart wrenching.
So the fact that it had been stolen, and so near to Christmas too, felt like a particularly heavy loss. Surely, if Connie could get a sniff of the cradle she could track the statue, get it restored to its proper place.
And there was no chance that she’d have the opportunity to eat someone.
Probably.
Jud didn't lie to the Director, but, well…he still had talents.
“I’m so sorry, sir. He’s all tied up with a case at the moment. But perhaps I could come by with our, um, tracker animal and get some preliminary investigation done? Benoit will join as soon as possible.”
It’d been a long shot. But it worked!
Jud almost buzzed with excitement as he packed up Connie’s training bag with her favorite treats, slipped on her harness, and bundled them both up for the snowy walk to the Met. He’d never had the chance to work a case by himself.
He couldn’t wait to get started.
Just before stepping out into the frigid morning, he’d grabbed Ben’s favorite scarf and curled it ‘round his neck.
Now properly attired, the game was truly afoot. He smiled down at Connie, already eager to get out the door.
Look out, robbers! There were new detectives in town.