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Nothing Ventured // for John
A month to the day. It's a little horrifying to realize he and John have been here this long, have already made such strides toward getting settled, but Martin endeavors to set aside the daily swell of anxiety over it. There's a lot to do, and it's all to the end of sustaining them. It isn't settling if you look at it like that; it's survival.
Still, it helps to throw himself into it, so he arrives at The Archive early in the morning, as usual. They've spent the past week or so acquiring supplies and the place is finally starting to come together, though they're probably at least another week out from actually opening things up, and he intends to expedite that process as much as possible. He expects John will be along at some point, which is just as well. He's been perpetually cagey about how the quest for funding has gone, and although they seem to be doing all right, Martin thinks it's well past time they actually got into the particulars.
He's at the front desk setting up the secondhand computer they'd obtained - a ridiculous, boxy thing that nonetheless seems to suit the general 'vibe' they've accidentally cultivated - when the front door jingles and John steps in.
"Hullo," says Martin, barely looking up. "Wi-fi's finally working, though it's still a bit finicky. Oh, and I did make a follow-up with the electric company to go over the wiring. Hopefully they'll actually turn up this time. Apart from that I'd say we're well on our way." He straightens up, taking off his glasses to rub at his eyes a bit before looking at John.
"And you?" he says, making only the most cursory attempt at not sounding outright coy. "Any progress worth mentioning?"
Still, it helps to throw himself into it, so he arrives at The Archive early in the morning, as usual. They've spent the past week or so acquiring supplies and the place is finally starting to come together, though they're probably at least another week out from actually opening things up, and he intends to expedite that process as much as possible. He expects John will be along at some point, which is just as well. He's been perpetually cagey about how the quest for funding has gone, and although they seem to be doing all right, Martin thinks it's well past time they actually got into the particulars.
He's at the front desk setting up the secondhand computer they'd obtained - a ridiculous, boxy thing that nonetheless seems to suit the general 'vibe' they've accidentally cultivated - when the front door jingles and John steps in.
"Hullo," says Martin, barely looking up. "Wi-fi's finally working, though it's still a bit finicky. Oh, and I did make a follow-up with the electric company to go over the wiring. Hopefully they'll actually turn up this time. Apart from that I'd say we're well on our way." He straightens up, taking off his glasses to rub at his eyes a bit before looking at John.
"And you?" he says, making only the most cursory attempt at not sounding outright coy. "Any progress worth mentioning?"
no subject
As he watches Martin survey his little kingdom, warmth spreads through his chest that has little to do with the tea. So many of his attempts to do something like this, to actually brighten someone's day, have ended in miserable failures -- with Martin in particular. Now, such a rousing success leaves him at more of a loss than he could have anticipated. It doesn't feel like enough, somehow -- or maybe he just wants to do more, to keep the proverbial ball rolling, to make sure Martin stays this happy. Not just happy, but confident enough to blithely boss him around, and insist they go out later, and impishly remind him that he's buying. He's never seen him like this before, didn't know Martin could be like this, let alone over something he did. It's incredible. It's nice.
"Yes, sir," he finds himself replying with a playful lilt, hardly recognizing the sound of his own voice. He sets down his cup, then rolls up his sleeves as he looks out at the rather disordered state of the place. "Where should we start?"