Work Text:
Working Late
Shaun is busy. Very, very busy, his notes spread out haphazardly all around him, his tea long since gone cold. He pushes his fingers up under his glasses and rubs at his eyes, past tired and well into zombie territory, the sun having gone down well over six hours earlier, and the rest of the team going to bed not long after.
But not Shaun. When Shaun is done playing helper to Desmond’s trips in the Animus, he has an entire other set of jobs to attend to that the others don’t. Shaun tries very hard not to resent them for that, but more often than not, he doesn’t succeed.
So when one of the objects of his ire is walking straight towards him, awake for some god awful reason, Shaun can’t quite keep the scowl from his face. “As you can no doubt see, I am busy.”
Desmond says nothing, just keeps walking towards him like he hadn’t spoken at all, and Shaun opens his mouth to reprimand him, but Desmond just reaches across his desk, takes his cup of freezing tea and replaces it with a fresh, steaming one that Shaun had not noticed he was carrying.
Without a word, Desmond turns and walks away, and Shaun is so distracted by this bizarre act of kindness that he burns himself taking a sip of the too hot tea. When he curses, he swears he can hear Desmond’s quiet laughter echoing down the hall.