[ Taking a much-needed step back, nearly smacking his hip into his desk as he did so, he listened attentively, clearly noting down every detail. Mind control device? In a paper? What was something like that doing here, of all places? What could have created such a thing? There's a million additional questions Jon wants to ask, but he's not even sure that Gerry would know them.
He'd already done enough damage, anyhow.
Looking a blend of surprised, anxious, and ashamed, he reaches over to the desk. It takes only a moment to find Lot 37, tucked absently under a discarded piece of mail, and he passes it over. ]
Yes. Give it to him, and... give him my apologies, if you feel so inclined when you do. I... I didn't know.
[ A pause, a tense silence, before he tries to speak up again. ]
[ He goes to call after him, but any words die in his throat, and he falters. What could he possibly say to right any of that? Gerry wasn't wrong, there certainly was a track record Jon decided to live up to, today. He closes the door gently and sighs.
Suppose he ought to start calling him Gerard again. ]
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no subject
He'd already done enough damage, anyhow.
Looking a blend of surprised, anxious, and ashamed, he reaches over to the desk. It takes only a moment to find Lot 37, tucked absently under a discarded piece of mail, and he passes it over. ]
Yes. Give it to him, and... give him my apologies, if you feel so inclined when you do. I... I didn't know.
[ A pause, a tense silence, before he tries to speak up again. ]
And Gerry, I'm sor---
no subject
Get bent, Sims. This is exactly what I get for trusting another fucking Archivist.
[ He storms out, plans to hang out all but forgotten. He needs to get this back to Cecil as soon as possible. ]
no subject
Suppose he ought to start calling him Gerard again. ]