Chapter Text
“Hello there, Mr. Whitethorne!” an annoyingly cheerful voice chirps through the station.
Lavender’s eye twitches almost imperceptibly. It’s too early for this. Please, Arceus above, just let this man crawl back to whatever hole he came out of. Preferably forever.
Arceus, unsurprisingly, does nothing. Typical.
“Mr. Whitethorne? Did you hear me?” comes the voice from behind him, practically sing-songy.
Lavender slips into his customer service smile, turning to wave cheerfully at the annoyance himself. Posture perfect, hands folded neatly behind his back. Standing straight and tall, his heels making him just an inch taller than normal.
“Good morning, Mr. Volo,” he says, canned enthusiasm spread liberally through his tone. “How are you today?”
“Just wonderful!” the blonde man responds, practically skipping over to stand in front of him. He’s not even trying to hide the hickies dancing across his neck, rather, he’s wearing them like a trophy. A signifier of the reason Lavender dislikes this man so much. “And how are you? Find any missing buttons or long-forgotten ballpoint pens yet?”
His fist tightens behind his back, and he forces out a polite laugh. “Not yet, Mr. Volo,” he says, voice pleasant and light. “It’s only 6am. I’m still on platform duty.”
Volo hums contentedly under his breath, head cocked slightly to the side as he studies Lavender’s expression. Lavender keeps his face placid, that soft, easy smile not leaving his face.
“The station is so lucky to have someone as dedicated as you working here,” he says brightly, none of that enthusiasm in his eyes. “Whatever would Emmet do without you?”
“I’m sure Boss Emmet would manage,” Lavender responds sweetly. “He’s quite capable on his own. I doubt he’d really need either of us , if it came down to it!”
Volo laughs at his ‘joke’, but his smile seems slightly strained. He very obviously checks his watch, feigning surprise at the time on it. “Oh! I’ll be late! Well then, Mr. Whitethorne, I’ll leave you to it! Keep working hard!”
Lavender watches him scurry off, heaving out a sigh of relief as soon as he’s out of earshot, disappearing into the crowd of early-morning commuters. That man was a disease . Nosy, passive aggressive, predatory … he shook the thought from his head. It’s nothing. He just gets under his skin. Forget the fact that he appeared in the station exactly a month after Boss Ingo went missing. Forget the fact that he latched onto Emmet immediately, singing praises like a pokemon using Charm. Forget the fact that he clings to him like a leech, sliming his way through his station every day.
Volo technically hasn’t done anything wrong . He’s kind, cheerful, friendly to everyone. He’s annoyingly helpful, always asking around about what can be done, what he can assist with. And, well…. He makes Boss Emmet smile. Something none of the agents had been able to do since Boss Ingo’s disappearance. Really, he should be grateful to Volo. He dragged Emmet out of that rut he was stuck in, got him back to being himself. But he’s filling Ingo’s place a bit too closely. Practically replacing him.
Lavender shifts uncomfortably on his feet, rocking back and forth a bit. He’s overthinking things, as usual. He’s overstepping, as usual. Volo has done nothing wrong . He needs to stop being so mistrusting. Luckily, a distraction comes along to drag him from his musings– an old woman needs assistance finding the platform for her train. She’s visiting her granddaughter, she chatters in his ear as he guides her through the subway, and she’s so excited to see her! But her eyes are bad and she just can’t see the signs, and won’t you be a dear and help me find my stop?
Lavender is a gentleman. He’s a fantastic employee. So he guides this grandmother through the crowd, keeping her safe and unjostled by the throngs of people, and lets thoughts of Volo slip from his mind.