Work Text:
Jon had been at his desk for nine hours. He knew technically this was not legal, but it had also technically been his choice. Besides, work needed to be done.
He had arrived at the institute early every day that week. Elias was not keen on flexible working hours – something to do with team building – so Jon would still be expected to work until 5pm, although he regularly found himself working long after everyone else had gone home. In those late hours, Jon found it easier to focus without the noise of the institute to distract him, and he had resolved to come to work earlier to get a two-hour head start on the day.
The first few hours had been rather productive. There were six boxes of statements that needed re-filing, and he had sorted through boxes one and two with ease.
That was before the others had arrived. Elias had requested a report for midday, Tim kept barging in with questions about a new potential Leitner, and Martin had spilt tea on some particularly volatile objects in artefact storage that Jon then had to file an incident report on.
This was fine, he convinced himself. He had powered through all the unexpected tasks, and no one had bothered him for the last ten minutes. If the quiet persisted, he could easily tackle a box an hour. He might even be able to reward himself by going home on time.
The boxes glared at him. His right eye had developed a nasty twitch, but he elected to ignore it. He could get this done.
Jon reached into the box nearest to him for his first statement, but his vision blurred when he tried to read the words. He pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose and blinked a few times until the words came back into focus. Statement of Gwendolyn Davies, regarding the disappearance of her cat. He sighed. Why his predecessor could not differentiate between this nonsense and statements that were actually worth a damn he would never understand.
No matter, Jon thought. He could skim read and get this done in half the time.
He looked back down at the page, and his head swam. He shook it off and tried to focus. Was it his glasses? The title of the book beside him was also a struggle to decipher. God, he really didn’t have time for this.
“Knock knock.”
Jon threw his head back defeatedly. So much for quietude. “The door is there for a reason,” he grumbled.
Sasha took that as her welcome and entered the office with a little nod. The movement bothered Jon’s eyes even more, and he tried to focus his vision on the still shelves behind her. “Right, sorry, it’s just that Tim was asking about that Leitner case again and – hey, Jon, are you alright?”
He hadn’t been listening. “What? Oh, yes, Sasha, you were saying?”
His assistant frowned. “You don’t look alright. Was it something you ate?” Her eyes fell on the half-eaten sandwich on his desk. “Jon, have you left your desk at all today?”
Once or twice for the restroom, yes, although Jon suspected that was not the answer Sasha was looking for.
“I’m fine. Now what were you saying about Tim? If it’s not urgent I have to insist you come back later,” he said, gesturing to papers covering his desk. “I need to get this all done by this evening-”
“Why?”
Jon paused. “Why what?”
“Why do you need to get it done by this evening?”
Jon struggled to process the question. “Wh- because I… do?” He winced at how pathetic that sounded.
“Did Elias tell you they need to be done by tomorrow?”
“No.”
“Is something terrible going to happen if you don’t get all this work done now?”
“No, but-”
“Jon, you need a break! Work will be here when you get back.”
That was precisely the problem. The work would be there tomorrow and the day after and the day after. He needed to get ahead, or he’d be drowning in it.
“Alright, get up.”
“What?”
“I said get up – we’re leaving work early and getting you some fresh air.”
Jon shook his head, but Sasha looked fiercely determined. “I really don’t think-”
“Jon you clearly can’t focus. How long have you been here? Seven hours? Eight? You need to give yourself space to breathe or you’ll asphyxiate from all the dust in here. Come on, there’s a park around the corner we can walk to.” She picked up his bag from the foot of his desk and waved it expectantly.
She really wasn’t going to let this go. “Fine,” he scowled, trying to ignore the satisfied grin on her face as pushed his papers to the side. “A five-minute walk, and then we’ll need to be back in the office.”
“Course – five mins tops.” Jon knew she was lying, but now that he had begrudgingly agreed he was starting to think that a walk with Sasha could be quite nice. At the very least it would mean no more interruptions, and as he stepped out from behind his desk, he realised that the thought of having to return to his office felt painful.
Sasha was right. Work would be there when he got back.