"Hmmm," comes Zane's noncommital response, lazily lifting the cup of coffee he'd also brought with him, holding it near the top so he can still hold onto his cigarette. It's not a negroni, but it'll do. He watches the other shuffle around, glancing at the desk if only because the scientist had definitely stashed something. Interesting.
He inhales sharply.
"Doctor Darling," he says formally--a rarity--and moves effortly onto the desk, sitting on top of it and gently setting his cup down directly onto the paperwork the other is about to move. A silent demand for attention. He knows exactly what's going on.
"How long have you been here? Have you gone home?"
"Mister Zane?" Darling arches an eyebrow and sets the coffee pointedly to the side, not on his paperwork, thank you kindly.
But that question hits home in a way he wasn't quite expecting, and he straightens his posture a little. Trying to pretend as though there isn't a corner of his office set up with a cot and sound proof foam, so he can stay the night here, when he needs to.
"I'm not certain how that's your business, exactly. But your concern is noted."
Zane's face lights up immediately as Darling promptly brushes him off. Probably he should be a bit miffed, but it's quite the opposite.
Gotcha.
He takes his hand and places the flat of his palm right where the coffee used to be--another demand for attention, and he's not even trying to hide it this time. He leans forward, gaze far too intense for the subject matter at hand.
"I was just wondering, since you have a cot set up in here. It's just for late hours, right? That brilliant mind churning out equation after equation."
Darling feels a headache coming on. He sighs and rubs at his eyes under his glasses. Though Zane's question does make him wonder... And now, searching back, he's genuinely having a hard time thinking of the last time he'd gone home for the night. Surely in the past month...?
"In case I need to work late, yes." But he sounds distracted. Maybe he should get out of the office more. But there are projects to complete, and forms to fill out, and now there's Tom Zane to watch over. The Head of Research doesn't get to have a break.
He can feel it, the light tinge of something that's not quite annoyance. Casper likes things orderly and neat--maybe not meticiulously, but in his own beautiful way. And Zane doesn't enter into theorem he's working on.
Pity.
Zane's mouth drops into a genuine frown.
"You should get out more," he comments. "It's not healthy, being cooped up like this. When was the last time you've seen a tree that isn't in an office planter? Another person not wearing a tie?"
The expression looks odd on Zane's face, someone who seems to always be wearing that Cheshire Cat smile. It makes Darling's chest clench in an odd way that he can't quite explain.
No, Tom Zane does not fit neatly anywhere. He's hard to define, and therefore a frustration. Something that tickles the back of his brain, an itch that he can't quite scratch. He doesn't know what Zane is and so he can't categorize him and pack him away like he does everything else in his life. It's maddening.
"I'm seeing you, aren't I?" he points out, finally meeting Zane's gaze properly. God, his eyes really are the most startling blue. "You're certainly not wearing a tie. Did you still that coat off Hubert? Poor man always seems to be misplacing it during his lunch break."
Semantics. Splitting hairs. Zane looks at Darling pointedly, waving a hand errantly.
"I mean to see the world! Get some inspiration, restart your brainwaves. Follow the ebb and flow of chaos around you to draw from a fresh perspective."
He's reaching for that coffee again, still eyeing Darling.
"If you won't go home than you should at least do something relaxing."
"I keep active," he retorts. Though he knows the argument is weak as soon as he makes it. "If I need to clear my head, I go for a jog around the House. People think I'm on my way somewhere important, they leave me alone. It's perfect."
Darling sighs and steeples his fingers, resting them against his lips while he tries to study Tom's face. Read his expression. "I don't think you want me to get out. I think you want to get out, and you know you can't do that without me."
It's too late. Zane's smelled the blood in the water, and he's put a hang on the edge of the desk he's already sitting on, leaning back in a languid fashion, brows raising in approval at the active comment. He sure does.
"Is it so bad to want both?" he asks, finally taking a sip. When he lowers the mug, he speaks again.
"I don't have time to go see a movie." Which is the honest truth, sadly. But before now, that fact hadn't bothered him. Now that Tom is prodding at him about it, however... it has been quite some time since he's taken any time for himself.
The scientist sighs and tries to lean back a little to counteract Tom's invasion of his space. "I'm happy to walk with you down to the cafeteria, I should probably eat something today. And you can return that coat."
Darling leans back. Thomas leans forward every way but physical--he's enjoying the view, the way the other is confident in his meaning but still looks like a deer in headlights. He's temporarily struck by just how broad the scientists' shoulders are.
Active indeed.
"We could eat popcorn. Better yet, dinner before the show. Italian?"
He wants, very badly, to do something with his hands. He'd rest them on his desk, normally, when he's not gesturing, but Tom's thighs are currently preventing him from doing so. At least they're in his office and not the lab, so he can snag his pack of cigarettes from the top drawer of his desk and light one. Though he does have to reach past Tom to do so, which flusters him for a moment, but he tries to hide that with a long exhale before speaking again.
"Tom, this is me being serious. With my serious face. I do not have the time -- nor, in fact, the budget -- to take you out to dinner and a movie. I know you've been asked to be placed in my care, and I promise I will make that as entertaining as possible! Within reason."
Zane's eyes are locked onto that hand that reaches past him, the barest hints of one of his smiles threatening to break through. He doesn't even have to touch him and Casper Darling is losing his mind.
And then the scientist mentions reason.
Zane narrows his eyes slightly, still not moving from his spot.
Okay. He can reason. He can be as serious as Darling's serious face. He can meet him half way.
"What about the long term?" He asks, and waits with bated breath to see if Darling will take the bait.
Tom is staring at him so hard it feels like a physical touch, and it's driving him absolutely insane. He tries to concentrate on his cigarette, staring up towards the ceiling because Tom's position leaning against the desk puts Darling at eye level with his very bare chest.
"If I can get time away from the office, then yes. We can go have dinner somewhere. But considering I can't remember the last time I tasted fresh air, I don't know when that will be."
If. If is close enough. Zane finally leans forward, smile softening.
"Then taste it. With me! It's a win-win scenario, friend. A few hours away from your notes will give you a fresh perspective on things, and I can get out of this stuffy place and be a little more free. You'll be with me the entire time. I want you to be with me the entire time. It would be a terrible date otherwise."
The term date startles him, and Casper Darling nearly chokes on smoke. He manages to exhale in time, clearing his throat.
"A date? That wasn't part of it. No, I will -- I will take you outside of the House so we can get something to eat and stretch our legs a bit, at some point. Only because I should, I will concede, leave the office at some point. And because you're not allowed to leave without me, so that's -- it's a rule I have to abide by."
There it is. The bait. The in. Zane's won. In lieu of a victory dance, that satisfied smirk is back on his face as he plucks the cigarette from Darling's hand and makes sure to hold eye contact.
"You enjoy following rules, don't you?" he says, and the hand that's stolen the cigarette also gently tugs at that damned bowtie. When he withdraws, he takes a long drag.
Darling swallows hard, touching his tongue to his lips for a moment before he's able to form words again. Because yes, he does, and yes he wants so badly to be praised and told he's doing well, and Trench won't give him that. It drives him crazy, being denied something he craves.
And here's this near stranger, zeroing in on that. Dragging it out of him, somehow.
"The rules -- " His voice cracks and he has to clear his throat again. "The rules are in place for your safety, and the safety of everyone here in the Bureau."
"And I will follow the rules," Zane assures, smoothing one if Darling's lapels down, "when we go out and see a film this Sunday. A matinee--I want to feel sunlight again. I want to see if I remember it properly."
Another drag. Zane offers the cigarette back.
"You can choose everything. The movie, the theatre, the dinner. Everything above code and board approved for your sanity, my little pencil pusher."
"This Sunday," he repeats, accepting the cigarette and leaning back again. Trying to pretend he's a lot more calm than he currently is.
"You seem very confident that I can make that work for you that quickly. I may be your handler, but ultimately, The Director has to approve everything. He's not nearly as nice as I am."
Pencil pusher stings, and he rubs at his ear with a sigh. "I'll see what I can do. No promises, but maybe if it's on my dime and not the company's, he won't be as stubborn about it."
"Darling. I have confidence in you," Zane answers, almost affronted that the other would think otherwise. But that little tick as he rubs at his ear, the way the Doctor seems so very worn and not just about the situation...
Tom eases up. Slightly. He presses that bowtie in a similar fashion as he had earlier--good boy--and shifts off of Darling's desk so he can finally get some of that work done.
"It's a good thing the Director's not going, then, it's just you and I."
That little touch to his bowtie, god. Why does that fluster him so much? Zane looking at him so intensely isn't helping, either.
It takes him a moment to recover after he catches himself staring at Tom as he shifts off the desk. "Right, well. I can't promise Sunday. But as soon as I catch a moment to breathe, we can leave the house for a bit. Even if it's just around the corner for a coffee that isn't brewed to motor oil strength."
Darling will never catch a moment to breathe. Zane knows this, probably more than Darling--the man's far too wrapped up in whatever's going on in his own head to be self-aware like that. It's not like Tom is, sure, but he's at least perceptive about this sort of thing. It lends itself to art.
"I'm Finnish. A coffee date will do, too." Zane's smile is a little softer, something tinging the corner of his lips before it's gone in an instant. Doesn't matter. He gets a taste of freedom. He also gets a taste of Darling.
"I don't know many Finns, outside of Ahti." Though knowing Ahti isn't like knowing anyone else at all, so he assumes the man (also questionable) isn't representative of Finnish culture. "Are you big coffee drinkers?"
There's... something, in Zane's request. Something that Darling can't quite place. Not shy, that's not it. Hopeful, maybe? Or maybe he's projecting.
"I will ask, yes. And report back as soon I have an answer that's more than an eyebrow raise."
Zane laughs a little at that remark--coffee is a form of lifeblood to him, though not nearly as much as the significant amount of alcohol he knocks back on a very frequent basis.
"Or..."
He's quiet for a second, picking up a pen, casting a sidelong glance at the younger man.
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He inhales sharply.
"Doctor Darling," he says formally--a rarity--and moves effortly onto the desk, sitting on top of it and gently setting his cup down directly onto the paperwork the other is about to move. A silent demand for attention. He knows exactly what's going on.
"How long have you been here? Have you gone home?"
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But that question hits home in a way he wasn't quite expecting, and he straightens his posture a little. Trying to pretend as though there isn't a corner of his office set up with a cot and sound proof foam, so he can stay the night here, when he needs to.
"I'm not certain how that's your business, exactly. But your concern is noted."
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Gotcha.
He takes his hand and places the flat of his palm right where the coffee used to be--another demand for attention, and he's not even trying to hide it this time. He leans forward, gaze far too intense for the subject matter at hand.
"I was just wondering, since you have a cot set up in here. It's just for late hours, right? That brilliant mind churning out equation after equation."
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"In case I need to work late, yes." But he sounds distracted. Maybe he should get out of the office more. But there are projects to complete, and forms to fill out, and now there's Tom Zane to watch over. The Head of Research doesn't get to have a break.
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Pity.
Zane's mouth drops into a genuine frown.
"You should get out more," he comments. "It's not healthy, being cooped up like this. When was the last time you've seen a tree that isn't in an office planter? Another person not wearing a tie?"
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No, Tom Zane does not fit neatly anywhere. He's hard to define, and therefore a frustration. Something that tickles the back of his brain, an itch that he can't quite scratch. He doesn't know what Zane is and so he can't categorize him and pack him away like he does everything else in his life. It's maddening.
"I'm seeing you, aren't I?" he points out, finally meeting Zane's gaze properly. God, his eyes really are the most startling blue. "You're certainly not wearing a tie. Did you still that coat off Hubert? Poor man always seems to be misplacing it during his lunch break."
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"I mean to see the world! Get some inspiration, restart your brainwaves. Follow the ebb and flow of chaos around you to draw from a fresh perspective."
He's reaching for that coffee again, still eyeing Darling.
"If you won't go home than you should at least do something relaxing."
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Darling sighs and steeples his fingers, resting them against his lips while he tries to study Tom's face. Read his expression. "I don't think you want me to get out. I think you want to get out, and you know you can't do that without me."
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"Is it so bad to want both?" he asks, finally taking a sip. When he lowers the mug, he speaks again.
"Come see a movie with me."
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The scientist sighs and tries to lean back a little to counteract Tom's invasion of his space. "I'm happy to walk with you down to the cafeteria, I should probably eat something today. And you can return that coat."
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Active indeed.
"We could eat popcorn. Better yet, dinner before the show. Italian?"
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"Tom, this is me being serious. With my serious face. I do not have the time -- nor, in fact, the budget -- to take you out to dinner and a movie. I know you've been asked to be placed in my care, and I promise I will make that as entertaining as possible! Within reason."
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And then the scientist mentions reason.
Zane narrows his eyes slightly, still not moving from his spot.
Okay. He can reason. He can be as serious as Darling's serious face. He can meet him half way.
"What about the long term?" He asks, and waits with bated breath to see if Darling will take the bait.
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"If I can get time away from the office, then yes. We can go have dinner somewhere. But considering I can't remember the last time I tasted fresh air, I don't know when that will be."
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"Then taste it. With me! It's a win-win scenario, friend. A few hours away from your notes will give you a fresh perspective on things, and I can get out of this stuffy place and be a little more free. You'll be with me the entire time. I want you to be with me the entire time. It would be a terrible date otherwise."
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"A date? That wasn't part of it. No, I will -- I will take you outside of the House so we can get something to eat and stretch our legs a bit, at some point. Only because I should, I will concede, leave the office at some point. And because you're not allowed to leave without me, so that's -- it's a rule I have to abide by."
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"You enjoy following rules, don't you?" he says, and the hand that's stolen the cigarette also gently tugs at that damned bowtie. When he withdraws, he takes a long drag.
"Good boy."
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Darling swallows hard, touching his tongue to his lips for a moment before he's able to form words again. Because yes, he does, and yes he wants so badly to be praised and told he's doing well, and Trench won't give him that. It drives him crazy, being denied something he craves.
And here's this near stranger, zeroing in on that. Dragging it out of him, somehow.
"The rules -- " His voice cracks and he has to clear his throat again. "The rules are in place for your safety, and the safety of everyone here in the Bureau."
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Another drag. Zane offers the cigarette back.
"You can choose everything. The movie, the theatre, the dinner. Everything above code and board approved for your sanity, my little pencil pusher."
And, after only a small pause.
"Please?"
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"You seem very confident that I can make that work for you that quickly. I may be your handler, but ultimately, The Director has to approve everything. He's not nearly as nice as I am."
Pencil pusher stings, and he rubs at his ear with a sigh. "I'll see what I can do. No promises, but maybe if it's on my dime and not the company's, he won't be as stubborn about it."
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Tom eases up. Slightly. He presses that bowtie in a similar fashion as he had earlier--good boy--and shifts off of Darling's desk so he can finally get some of that work done.
"It's a good thing the Director's not going, then, it's just you and I."
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It takes him a moment to recover after he catches himself staring at Tom as he shifts off the desk. "Right, well. I can't promise Sunday. But as soon as I catch a moment to breathe, we can leave the house for a bit. Even if it's just around the corner for a coffee that isn't brewed to motor oil strength."
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"I'm Finnish. A coffee date will do, too." Zane's smile is a little softer, something tinging the corner of his lips before it's gone in an instant. Doesn't matter. He gets a taste of freedom. He also gets a taste of Darling.
"..You'll really do it, won't you? Ask?"
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There's... something, in Zane's request. Something that Darling can't quite place. Not shy, that's not it. Hopeful, maybe? Or maybe he's projecting.
"I will ask, yes. And report back as soon I have an answer that's more than an eyebrow raise."
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"Or..."
He's quiet for a second, picking up a pen, casting a sidelong glance at the younger man.
"You could just do it and not let him know?"
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