Martin knows John's being sarcastic, but he can't stop himself from staring in horrified disapproval at the idea. As if enough horrible things hadn't befallen him, does he really have to joke about this stuff?
"Barring that," he says stiffly, "well..." He eyes the envelope begrudgingly. "Well we obviously can't deposit it like that. Which means... Christ." He can't believe he's about to say this. He covers his face briefly, rubbing at his brow. "I suppose I could just... feed it into the till, so to speak? Add it to our earnings in pieces and deposit it bit by bit. Have to fudge the books a little, but... I think I can do that."
He can't believe this is where they're at, that he's talking about this seriously. He nudges the envelope open, glancing through the stack. Not a lot of small bills, of course. Which means the odd fifty will have to blend in.
They haven't made much headway on the subject of actually sustaining the Archive since the inception of the idea, both of them drunken fools in the Japanese restaurant. Seems like ages ago now, and there's been little time to discuss it since. They've really been going about this backwards: result first, plan later. It was sort of necessity, really, establishing the building - they knew they needed an Archive before the idea of what to do with it ever entered the picture. Easy to forget they can't just... do their usual work here.
"Well," he says, "with that in mind, we need to talk about practicals, if we're to have earnings through which to funnel all... that. I've had some thoughts." He hides the envelope beneath the counter again, this time in a drawer. It'll need a better spot later, but that's a later problem. "D'you want some tea? Got the electric kettle running, finally."
no subject
"Barring that," he says stiffly, "well..." He eyes the envelope begrudgingly. "Well we obviously can't deposit it like that. Which means... Christ." He can't believe he's about to say this. He covers his face briefly, rubbing at his brow. "I suppose I could just... feed it into the till, so to speak? Add it to our earnings in pieces and deposit it bit by bit. Have to fudge the books a little, but... I think I can do that."
He can't believe this is where they're at, that he's talking about this seriously. He nudges the envelope open, glancing through the stack. Not a lot of small bills, of course. Which means the odd fifty will have to blend in.
They haven't made much headway on the subject of actually sustaining the Archive since the inception of the idea, both of them drunken fools in the Japanese restaurant. Seems like ages ago now, and there's been little time to discuss it since. They've really been going about this backwards: result first, plan later. It was sort of necessity, really, establishing the building - they knew they needed an Archive before the idea of what to do with it ever entered the picture. Easy to forget they can't just... do their usual work here.
"Well," he says, "with that in mind, we need to talk about practicals, if we're to have earnings through which to funnel all... that. I've had some thoughts." He hides the envelope beneath the counter again, this time in a drawer. It'll need a better spot later, but that's a later problem. "D'you want some tea? Got the electric kettle running, finally."