Chapter Text
March 2016
Martin had no idea how he managed to get himself this job.
The library placement he understood.Two years of experience working at his local library, and some amplifications on his CV, made him seem more capable than he was. He was good with people who came in asking for where a certain section was. Because libraries were easy to take care of, and quiet. If there was a mess-up he could always say that there was a labelling issue and apologise profusely. That was his go to, plus people were nice to the librarians. Always feeling like they’re being this massive bother for the mere act of asking a question or speaking. Despite his employment details being a vast web of lies and circumstantial job experience, Martin felt like he belonged as a librarian.
But his mum was getting sicker and he couldn't manage the salary of his part-time position and taking care of his mother. He knew she would have to go into a care home eventually, but he wished it'd been a few more years down the line. So, while he was looking online for similar job positions he found the Magnus Institute in London. Like every other application he tailored his CV to the job he was wishing to apply to and made up university credits easily. So when the Magnus institute actually returned his email and asked for an in-person interview, he took the train down to London, did the interview and went home. Then a week later, whilst in the staffroom, he received an email stating he had gotten the job.
His going away party included two fold-up tables with a littering of teabags and biscuits over them. He understood why he never really connected with his coworkers due to their vast age difference. But he had never felt lonelier standing alone at his own party stirring tea in his mug, eventually breaking the bag in the corner. His mother was very grateful for once hearing that she'd be moving to a home. Martin tried his hardest to find the nicest one for her as an apology that he could only see her now on visiting hours. She didn't seem to care.
As much as he romanticised the city, finding an apartment in central London was the most gruelling experience of his life. He couldn't live too far away due to transport, and his budget was limited due to the cost of the nursing home, but anything too close to Westminster would bankrupt him. So after many weeks he managed to land himself an apartment in Stockwell. An underfurnished, basic, apartment that he gave up some of his liberties for. But at least he had somewhere to live. The Institute job he found was a lot more intense than he expected at first. Especially during April ‘til June when university students and academics would flock to the library in order to get sources for their papers and exams.
But Martin loved it and over the next six years he fell into his routines. Waking up catching the tube to the institute, making tea and coffees in the break room and handing them out to his colleagues. He’d admire the vast dark wood bookcases filled with books as old as the institute itself. It was something about this job, something about being able to walk into this academic institution, made him feel like an actual scholar, despite never finishing sixth form. After he had given out the several mugs of tea, he would sit behind the library desk waiting for students and academics to come in asking to borrow certain copies for study and papers. The library was so organised that he rarely needed to do anything but direct people to different sections. So on those calmer days, though he'd just sit and read the books, he probably should have read for his pseudo degree and masters, but it got so insanely technical and theoretical at times that he would just have to put it down. Then he would read a romance novel he finished a thousand times before.
It was on one of these days last week Rosie came up to his desk tapping gently on the mahogany surface. Martin quickly flipped the romance cover only showing the back shoving into the drawer space that Rosie couldn't see from where she was standing.
“Hi there how could I help you today- oh hi Rosie”
“Hi Martin” she smiled back. Martin had always liked Rosie. They met four years ago at one of the institute fundraisers when his manager Paula asked to come with her as a representative of the department. Hannah would normally take the position but her daughter got chicken pox, so she was out for the week.
They kept to the back of the party for most of the night, finding their way to a table and talked about what they were reading for the next three hours before they went home. They stayed in contact, occasionally getting lunches when their breaks aligned but being the Secretary to the Head of the institute was taxing enough, so they rarely managed to see each other.
“What are you reading?” she asked, crossing her arms on the counter looking over.
“Lisa Kleypas,” he answered, briefly showing Rosie the cover before putting it back “She has the sequel book coming out next month so I thought I'd re-read Cold-Hearted Rake.”
Rosie nodded in response and Martin stood behind the desk so he could see her better, “Are we getting lunch?”
Rosie shook her head. “Oh no, sorry, I’ve been asked to pick you up.”
Martin gave her a puzzled look before she finished, “Mr Bouchard wants to see you in his office.”
Martin's eyes went wide and he felt a pit in his stomach. It was never a nice thing when Paula called Martin for his performance review, everything was fine and she'd tell him to keep up the good work. But the Head of the Institute? The only time he ever saw Elias, let alone met him, was at a fundraising event where he and his husband got into a very heated argument and Elias demanded a divorce. He had heard that he can be quite serious and a bit scary at times so this was a worrying development.
“Do you know why he’s asking for me?” he said as Rosie and he made their way up the stairs, to the top of the institute with her heels clacking on the marble steps.
“He’s been going through a lot of old paperwork recently, been having me run all over the place. I think he's been shifting the departments and going through everyone's CVs–” Martin couldn't focus on what Rosie was telling him as his mind swirled into a panic. If Elias was going through CVs, a man that smart would figure out he was lying, surely! . Paula has conducted his interview and hired him so his application never passed Elias, but if it had Elias would've probably emailed every recommendation and had the dean for Edinburgh university on speed dial.
He hadn't noticed when they reached the office until Rosie told him, “It's going to be fine, don't worry.”
Then she walked to her own office.
He gulped as he fixated on the dark silhouette in the foggy glass watching him behind the door. Martin inhaled deeply, adjusting his jumper before knocking on the wooden frame.
“Come in,” Elias called through the door.
Martin turned the doorknob and made his way inside, shutting the door afterwards. He approached his desk as Elias said please take a seat and so he did.
The pair sat in silence for a minute before Martin found himself compelled to speak first. "Elias, what was it you needed me in here f-”
“Martin,” Elias smiled, sitting up now properly and pushing his held hands across the desk, making direct eye contact with him, “Great to finally put a face to the name, from what I've heard you've become quite popular among the staff.”
Martin knew Elias was buttering him up, but he couldn't help but smile at the compliment.
“Well, I just try to talk to everyone and take their mugs when I’m on tea duty.”
“I’ve heard you're one of the finest librarians we have here, good with students and certain scholars," he smiled. Martin was going to thank him before Elias continued, “These aren't my words, I’ve just heard this from your manager Paula.”
Martin nodded and shifted into the back of his seat, Martin felt a stiff tension in his shoulder and the pit in his stomach dropped to his gut when Elias then asked, “Do you know why I've called you into my office today?”
Martin's throat went dry and he croaked out a No?, only to be met with a cold stare from Elias. He felt the man's eyes look through the back of his head, as if he had spaced out completely. Martin took a moment before he glanced at the door to see if Elias was looking at something behind him but there was nothing.
Martin, now puzzled, asked: “Elias?”
“So Martin,” Elias began abruptly, seemingly dilated pupils snapping back into focus. "I'm sure you've heard our beloved Archivist Gertrude has retired recently.”
Oh Ms Robinson? She was that really intimidating woman that was glaring at Martin at the fundraiser. She seemed intense but nice from what he heard, and didn't have any assistants down in her archive. As head of department she said it was her responsibility to manage it herself. He heard about her retirement when David had some of the other librarians sign her card in the break room.
“Um yes, Sir– I mean Elias, we signed her card in the library, she seemed like a lovely lady."
“Going onto greener pastures. What she has left for the institute, though, is a complete mess of an archive,” Elias sighed in disapproval. "Horrible woman.”
Martin nodded awkwardly at the comment and watched as Elias pulled something out of his desk drawer, a paper file of four different CVs, one of which he recognised as his own with a section circled in red pen. Martin’s blood went cold, Why was it highlighted!? Elias pulled out the paper and placed it carefully in front of Martin.
MA: Parapsychology - Edinburgh University 06’/07
“I’ve had a look over your CV. It's very impressive. Undergraduate in Phycology class of 2005 at Edinburgh university. Edinburgh's a beautiful city is it not?”
“It’s uh- quite nice-” as he began his rehearsed line, “You know I've always found it more beautiful in the autumn than the summ-”
“Yes yes, quite nice,” Elias interrupted, obviously not caring. “Then you continued at Edinburgh to continue your studies of different branches of psychology. Finished your Masters in parapsychology in 2007 before you came to work for our institute in 2010 after two years of working with various phycological studies and libraries.”
“Yes, Mr Elias, sir?” Martin said weakly, biting his lip at how stupid he felt as Elias read out all of his lies on paper, making them sound so concrete. He was either teasing him or he genuinely believed they were true. Elias glared at him for the interruption, but Martin found himself speaking. Trying to find some composure before he cracked.
“Mr Bouchard, why am I here?”
Elias lent back in his dark green swivel chair, bobbing back and forth six times. He sighed and pulled his glasses down and let them hang from their silver chain adorned with symbols of eyes. Elias took a sigh.
“I will be forthright with you Martin, Gertrude Robinson was a mess of a woman. Who I had to force into an early retirement for the state she has put my archive in. She has single handedly derailed two hundred years worth of statements into the nuclear wasteland that we call the basement.”
Before Martin could ask why Elias was saying all of this, the realisation dawned on him.
“You want me down in the Archives?”
“Precicely, Martin,” Elias smiled, not knowing the horror he has just inflicted onto the man sat opposite from him.
This might have been worse than being fired. At least if he was fired he wouldn't have to pretend how to do a job he didn't know. Organising an archive of such vast disorganisation would have been one thing but Martin had no idea how to preserve historical documents! He once got to hold a gas mask during a history lesson in high school and almost broke it. This wasn't anything like filing away library cards and giving directions to ‘a History of ghosts in Northern England’!! Martin had to know and be well versed on each individual file, write research reports on each statement or document or whatever else people in archives do?!
He couldn't take this job…
In his panic however, he didn't notice Elias was placing the other CVs on the table, “You won't be alone. You'll be working for a man called Jonathan Sims, he and Tim Stoker are being transferred from our research department as well as Sasha James from Artifacts Storage."
“Mr Bouchard-” Elias looked at him and he felt that sinking feeling again, “I’m afraid I don't think I can take this position… I’m quite happy with my role in the library!”
Elias nodded in understanding before stating “I'm afraid you don’t have a choice, Martin. I would hardly trust Tim to do anything without assistance, Jon has a tendency to focus on one project entirely and will ignore the larger disorganisation issues, and Sasha, well-” Elias gives martin a knowing look nodding with a grin Martin didn't reciprocate, “Well I couldn't imagine the archives running at all if she was on her time of the month. After Gertrude I don't think I’d trust a female archivist again."
He laughed and Martin grimaced, biting the inside of his cheek.
“So I trust you are smart enough, and more than capable to manage the archive alongside your co-workers as an assistant. Besides everything I have mentioned, this position also comes with a substantial pay increase from your current salary. You would be moving from £29,000 to a starting pay of £41,000. Pending your performance review by Jon,” Elias leaned across his desk, handing Martin a pen, “Consider this a promotion.”
Martin’s eyes looked up, finally making eye contact with Elias which seemed to please the green pinstriped man. On £41,000 he would actually be able to pay for his mother’s care and have enough left over after rent and monthly expenses to finally start a savings for himself. Maybe a retirement pot, he could finally stop living paycheck to paycheck. The offer was too tempting and as Elias clicked the pen and tossed it across the desk Martin had no choice but to sign.
_________________________________________
So now he was here, Monday morning, new job and the sweat building on his back made his jumper feel damp. Head rushed with more anxiety than he had before sending his mother to Ivy Meadows. He walked into the institute and realised he wasn't even aware where the archives were. He'd worked here for coming up to seven years now and he had no idea. The thought of him embarrassed him, so he made his way to the library to ask for directions. He walked in to see Hannah sitting at the main library desk.
“Oh hey Martin, how is your first day away from the library going?”
Martin grabbed the back of his neck and began, “It technically hasn't yet…I can’t find the archive, I don't know where it is.”
This made Hannah chuckle, “Oh bless, well good thing you came up here anyway. I have a box of papers that got misfiled to us from the archive, a few research reports and other things. You can take them on your way down.”
Hannah stood to go off and get the box for him. Besides a rocky start to the day he eventually found the staircase Hannah was on about, and his hands were now full with a box of various files and research papers trying to look over the cardboard box to see his feet land safely on the next step down.
The way the building was structured is that there were steps up to the main institute doors, then a lobby, before splitting into the meeting rooms, cafe, research spaces and then the upstairs sections made up of Scholar only zones, academic conference rooms and the library. In the lobby however there was a common room just a few doors down from artifacts storage where in the middle of the two rooms a single door and overhead wooden sign that just read ‘Entrance to Archive’. Martin nodded and apologised to the students who stared as he fumbled at the door, unable to get the door handle to turn, where eventually some woman with dyed red hair a little darker than Rosie's helped and held the door open for him.
As he passed the first door he was met with a long and winding staircase down to the basement of the building. He understood that this was an older building but the step size was absolutely ridiculous, too deep and not wide enough. He unsuccessfully tried to look over the box to see where his feet were on the step. When he had eventually reached the bottom of the stairs and put the box down, needing a breather, he looked up and read the firm oak door with foggy glass that read “Archive” in painted black letter on the paneling. Martin smiled seeing the warm light of the lamps shining through the door. He wouldn't have described it as dark but it had that moody low lighting that he was not looking forward to on late shifts making his way back up the stairs.
“Ruff!” He then heard from below him and me eyes with long droopy ears and a fluffy coat, panting a smile up at him. Its lead was loosely hooked on a radiator and Martin didn't know where the owner was, but the pup looked friendly.
“What are you doing down here little guy?” He cooed as he scratched behind the dog's ear which made it flop on the floor. Martin knelt down to properly fuss the dog ruffling the fluffy fur on its white belly before it jumped up onto Martin's knee licking his face and Martin chuckled.
‘Aren 't you adorable, where's your owner?’ he cooed as the dog made him lose balance and dramatically Martin fell to the floor, making the dog more excited.
After he felt the dog had enough fussing he stood up, picked up the box and went to open the door. Although the door had an easier handle than upstairs, the weight was a bit too heavy. So he held the door open with his foot before making his way inside the archive. As he tried to slide through the small gap he made he ended up having to make it wider to match his size when he felt rustling at his feet and the dog rushed under his footing.
“No no no!”” He called at it, but it was too late and the dog ran into the archive as Martin tripped over falling flat on his face, spilling the reports, papers and important documents all over the dark wooden floorboards of the archive.
“Ow,” Martin said to nobody but himself. He pushed himself up, adjusting his glasses looking up at some sort of front desk and a few armchairs and a sofa situated at the entrance of the archive with a bell at the desk. He looked to see a few tables full to the brim of boxes and papers stacked on top of each other or in bursting files. He stood to see a room lined with shelf after shelf of metal stands, filled with boxes that went underneath the entire institute. Elias had greatly understated the state of the archive as he saw a meter tall stack of papers and was about to take a sigh before he saw the dog run and crash into it.
“No! Stop that, get back here!” He yelled, but the dog took it as an invitation and began to sprint and Martin chased after it. For such a small dog, it was surprisingly strong as it pushed boxes out of racks and toppled piles of statements. This place was ginormous, much larger than the library upstairs. Just the scale of the organisation was starting to make him sweat as he hunted for the dog that he'd lost sight of, when the loud crash of a metal rack toppling over and boxes fell out of their allotted shelves with the sounds of barking following.
Oh this was going to be a nightmare. Not on his first day as well! At least the archive couldn't get any messier he thought before the dog ran through a shelf, spilling a stack of statements all over the floor. Where the hell was this thing? He turned a corner passing a room that looked like an office. It had windows covered by blinds and a desk lamp lit inside, but there was a clear silhouette in there. Without reading the plaque above the door that Martin leant on the doorframe.
“Hey, sorry, you haven’t seen a dog, have you?” he said, looking around the office scanning for the dog. Only to meet eyes with a man with short dark brunette hair the same colour of his skin, that had just a few grey hairs, which he noticed as the man took off his glasses.
“I’m sorry, what?” the man responded, clearly puzzled.
The dog wasn't in here, dammit! Martin looked back at the man after glancing around the archive for any sign of this pup.
“Um– Uh, a dog, a-a Spaniel, I think?” he rushed, rolling his fingers on the doorframe nervously. His eyes wandered across the room, the room not making direct eye contact, there were even more boxes in here stacked and piled in a way that it was clear whoever this guy was was already getting a headstart on his work. He then looked into his eyes preparing for the worst after disrupting him.
But the other man's smile would put him at ease as he softly asked, “In– In general? or?…”
He stuttered over the word as his face shifted into a barely visible amused smile.
There was something cute about the reaction that Martin couldn't really find the way to describe. It made him blush a little and respond just as softly, “N-No, in the Archives.”
Martin found himself smiling as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.
This was apparently not the move.
The person shot up in his chair, glaring at Martin in a deep and authoritative voice that made Martin gulp, "Why would there be a dog in the Archives?”
“Oh, cause, well I–” he stuttered before the man snapped.
“Who are you?”
He shifted down into the ground and was unsure what to do with his hands. Stuck between pulling on his knuckles and stretching his hands out for an explanation and excuse.
“Uh– M-Ma-Martin,” he rambled, stuttering over his own name like he was in primary school again.
“I– and, cause I may have…l-l-let him in?”
“What? Why?” he said, like Martin had purposefully planned to ruin his day.
“Oh- Well, I didn’t– I didn’t mean to you know, we were outside uh, making friends,” he said finding the corners of his mouth betraying him and the other man stared at him with discontent. “And– and then I, I had to come in, but…”
He gestured, pretending he was carrying the box, “My hands were full, and, you know, the door’s really heavy, so, so I had to use my foot, and then he just– sort of like-” and stupidly found himself doing jazz hands “got past me –” but before he could make even more of a fool of himself the man in tweed asked in a dangerous tone.
“Why were you coming into the Archives?” he sniped.
Easy question he could answer finally!
“Oh! Uh– I, I work here!” he said confidently.
“No you don’t,” replied the other like it was an indisputable fact.
Martin tried to take a breath but was cut off by: “I requested Tim, and I requested Sasha.”
He stood from his desk, making his way towards the doorframe Martin was leaning on. Martin grabbed the wood tightly as the shorter man came closer, “and you are neither…”
At this point the embarrassment had faltered, and his brain triggered back into motion as he figured out who he had been talking with and his eyes went wide.
“Oh!– Ohh-h! Oh, you’re– Jonathan Sims, yeah,” Jon smiled at the recognition smugly. Only cocking an eyebrow when Martin continued: “Um– Mr. Bouchard said I’d, I’d– be working for you." He finished, tapping his fingers against each other.
Jon however seemed displeased with that explanation and inhaled sharply at the new information.
“Well he didn’t tell me anything about it,” he sat on the corner of his desk after shifting his laptop. Jon pinched his brow and let his hands fall down his face. Martin felt bad.
“He, uh, he said that um– Well, he transferred me from the Library, so.”
“So I’m your boss?” Jon began after a moment.
“I mean, I guess?”
“Which means that,” Jon pinched the air with a small laugh, “Technically– I have the power to– dismiss you… if this dog situation is not resolved immediately.”
“I mean, yeah, probably.” Martin chuckled that he and his boss now seemed on better terms. But Jon didn't stop staring at him and after Jon swayed his hand around, Martin's eyes widened, which seemed to satisfy Jon.
“Oh! Oh, yes! R-Right, sorry.”
Shit. He was going to get fired on his first day.
Admittedly for a job he thinks he shouldn't have gotten anyway, but Elias apparently seemed to either ignore it or just be an idiot. Jon, however, Martin realised he should not mess with.
“Uh-h– I-I’ll– Sorry!” he started making his way around, looking for the dog and following the trail of destruction and torn papers, unfortunately having to pass Jon’s door again. “Sorry.”
Martin was red with embarrassment now, cheeks hot and flushed as he hid around the corner of the room he now read as‘Head of Archive’. Just a rough first day and Jon was nice? Maybe he seemed to be before he mentioned the dog was actually in the archive. Just sort out this situation and he’ll be fine. Martin was quiet this time sneaking between shelves and shelves of files, hoping his quiet demeanour would calm the dog. He turned left then right to see the dog, and a wave of relief, quickly chased by another of terror, flooded over him as he saw the dog chewing on a box corner.
“No! What are you doing, get off that!” The dog looked at him, barked another ruff, and ran away from Martin, dashing down the Isle running past a guy in a Hawaiian shirt.
“Was that a Cocker Spaniel?” The man said, laughing.
Martin stopped. Looking at the man, he was fit and incredibly attractive despite the curious dresswear for an academic, with deep brown monolid eyes that beamed at the chaos. Martin adjusted himself and pulled his jumper down.
“I’m so sorry! The door was really heavy and I was getting boxes in and the little guy just sneaked past me–” he began to ramble.
“It's fine, don't worry. It's all quite entertaining for a first day,” the man then looked to Martin and offered his hand out. "I don't believe we’ve had the pleasure of meeting yet. I’m Tim.”
Martin took it. “Tim Stoker, right?” After a moment Martin may his way towards tim now, sucking in his gut as he made it to the end of ilse “Um, I’m Martin– Elias moved me down here from the Library.” Martin rubbed his sweaty palm into his side before offering it to tim who shook it with enthusiasm.
“Oh nice, I thought it was just going to be Sasha and I as Assistants,” he said.
So nobody knew he was coming. Great! Not only did he have no idea what he was meant to be doing, none of the other employees know him and if he doesn't get this dog sorted he's going to be fired on his first day.
“I doubt I’m going to be here long, that dog’s messing up everything” he spoke into his hands.
Then Tim looked at him with an odd face,pity maybe? And he leant onto the shelving unit next to Martin.
“I’ll tell you a secret" Tim began in a whisper “I doubt the messiness will make a difference right now the place is a bomb sight”
Martin found himself laughing openly with Tim at the joke. It was just definitely the stress of the whole thing that was making it seem worse. This archive has not been kept in condition for nearly fifty years, one dog is hardly going to affect anything.
‘Ruff’
Then there was a crash, and Martin and Tim ran to the dog which had somehow knocked over a shelf.The next twenty minutes were Tim and Martin running all over the archive trying to catch this dog, and its energy never dissipated. It was a losing battle,they needed reinforcements.
“Where’s Sasha?” Martin yelled to Tim across the filing cabinets.
“She’s taking a statement right now, can't help… ” then a pause “I can get Jon! Wait there! ”
‘No no no’ he tried to protest but Tim was gone.
Jon was going to fire him, certainly and he would have to move out of London if he couldn't get another job, the Magus institute was good to have on his CV so maybe?-
As he turned the corner he saw it. The little guy seemed so calm laying over a few empty files he was using as a bed as he groomed his paws.Martin ever so quietly made his way over, each step rolled from the back of his heel to the front of his foot. The dog hadn't noticed him yet, so he began to scoop his hand around it when the clicking of a door broke the peace.The dog darted at these two women coming out of one of the rooms.
“Thank you again for coming in, Our team will begin an investigation and we will contact you if we find anything” said the woman dressed in a pleated brown skirt, white shirt and tweed blazer that she pulled the cuffs down after holding the door open. She adjusted her glasses and was showing the woman out of the archive when the dog rushed towards the other woman.
“Ruffus?”
‘Ruff Ruff!’ The dog barked, rushing and jumping on its owner's jeans.Martin watched as the small dog jumped up and down at the sight of its owner, paw scratching incessantly on her jeans. The woman knelt down as she began to ruffle his fur and scratch behind his ears.
“What are you doing here sweetheart?”
“Im sorry I was coming into the archives and he was at the door and got between my feet whilst I was getting through the door-” martin rushed to explain as he had been all morning when the well dressed woman asked.
“Why were you coming into the archives?” admittedly in a nicer tone than Jon had, more curiosity than animosity. Before Martin could answer however he heard the shouts of TIm.
“Dog! Found the dog!” Tim pointed excitedly rushing over with Jon following slowly behind him.
Hearing this the owner began looking around at the chaos that had been caused. There were two shelves toppled, papers scattered and a few cardboard boxes that had the corners chewed on. She turned to the woman he now presumed to be Sasha and began apologising.
“Im so so sorry, He’s an ESA and I was really freaked coming here today,so he must've been looking for me and-”
“Could you pick up the dog so it causes no more destruction to my Archive” Jon spoke.
Tim and Sasha gave each other a look and the woman nodded while picking up the dog. Ruffus tried to break free of her grasp at first before finding a comfortable position with his front paws over her right shoulder panting and looking at martin.
“Im really sorry Mr Sims, I did tie his leash around the radiator because he wasn't allowed inside"
“I understand the circumstances, besides it wasn't you who let him get in” Jon said looking pointedly at Martin which made his neck stiff. The woman apologised a few more times making her way out of the archive followed by the group. When she had left Jon took off his glasses and began rubbing his eyes. Martin found himself standing beside Tim and Sasha who were also waiting for him to be finished.
Martin had been too nervous to really notice before but…Jon was quite attractive. Sharp facial features and the way that his hair was pushed back and the longer parts tucked behind his ears that met the temples of his glasses, was actually really hot. Even the greying hairs that he tried to hide: which he realised would make Jon at least ten years his senior, were something that he knew would make his heart flutter if he looked too long.
Jon turned back to them and Martin avoided his gaze.
“We will not be having any more statement givers for the foreseeable future” he started.
Sasha scoffed “Jon I have two more people coming in today”
“Well cancel them”
“I can't cancel them! before Gertrude retired she wouldn't see anyone for statements, these people need to talk about their experiences Jon, and have been waiting for-”
“I don't care. After today's incident the archive is beyond viewable to the public. I as head archivist will not have the academic prestige of the Magnus institute brought down by the disorderly nature of this basement”
“What do you want us to do then?” Martin asked, a mistake he would soon regret as Jon came closer to him.
“I expect you” he said looking up to Martin expression firm “to do your Job Mr-”
“Blackwood,” Martin answered quickly.
“I know that you have been sent here by Elias for reasons I've yet to understand, but if an incident like this happens again or if your incompetence proves to be a frequent problem. We will have a discussion about your place here at the magnus institute. Are we understood?” Jon finished and Martin nodded throat.
Jon hadn't said anything wrong about him. It was hurtful sure but he knew that this was a massive step up from the library. Admittedly if this lecture was before the work began he was in for a rough starter month.Sasha and Tim glanced at each other, mouthing something when Jon looked back and they stopped.
“Call those statement givers and say that they will have to be postponed, if anybody needs me I will be in my office recording a statement.” Jon turned to head to his office, shutting the door and leaving the blinds down.
Martin stood still letting those words sit in his mind repeating and circling until a tap on his shoulder broke him from his trance.
“You alright?” Tim said softly.
Martin nodded, coming up with an excuse “No it's, fine. He was right about me being incompite-”
“No he wasn't" Sasha corrected quickly “Look we know Jon, he's a pretentious snooty prick at times. But that doesn't mean he can say that, just because he’s having a power play”
Tim tried to start a sentence but was cut off by his own laughter, finally finding the breath to say "I mean did you hear that whole ‘the academic prestige of the Magnus institute’ bollocks he was saying” with a rather accurate impression of their new boss which made Martin chuckle.
“Look Jon’s a bit prickly but he's alright. We came up through research together and he's always taken things too seriously, don't take anything he says to heart” Tim finished “Anyways I want to see our new desks!” making a run for four carved desks covered in boxes.
The rest of the day was quite calm, one of the best days he had had at the institute. The desks had been absolutely covered in statements and various boxes labelled from ‘Spiders’ to ‘September 1968’ they would have to look at them later as clearing the desks was on their most urgent tasks. After wiping the thick layer of dust with his tan jumper sleeve now dark grey with dirt, They began to move the desks. Originally he had expected their desks to be close, but when Sasha and Tim began to push the desk together so they would be opposite from one another. And then helped Martin push his own so that it would sit at the top overseeing the two of them, he felt more included than all his previous years working in libraries.
Whilst Tim was walking around with his phone held in the air to get a bar of signal, Sasha and himself were trying to begin on the organisation front splitting the statements into decades. Gertrude Robinson had an extremely complicated system, as far as they could tell it was yyymmdd with a number added on the end if multiple statements were taken in one day. Why hadn't it been yyyyddmm he and Sasha had no clue.
It was at this point Join came out of his office and groaned, pushing his hair back.
“My laptop isn't working for recording statement’s, this is the fourth time today it just corrupted the file or not recorded at all” he said to no one but himself.
Tim chimed in "Haven't tried recording anything, but I have like no signal and I’m not able to connect to the institutes internet from down here”
“Do you think we could get actual computers down here,would that be better?” Sasha asked Jon.
“We do have an annual budget off Elias, but if we can't connect to the institute internet I don't see the point-”
We could use ethernet cables
“Pardon?” Jon said to Martin. Martin looked up from his statement piles to see the three of them looking at him. Oh he said that out loud.
“Um-” he spoke whilst trying to form his thoughts “You know ethernet cables?”
Jon just stared.
“They um- there like really long wires that go straight into the router?” He then began to begin plugging an imaginary cable into the computer tower “You can put it into the back of the computers and the internet just like- woosh its in there” He finished and Tim gave a shrug to Jon who nodded.
“Okay Sasha can you start making a list of equipment we are going to need, so that I can give to Elias the next meeting we have”
Sasha nodded and Jon went back inside his office. Jon liked his idea, well that was nice and wasn't as incompetent as he thought. The rest of the day was spent mainly in silence with the break for lunch in the institute café with his new coworkers, Jon however stayed in the archive until the end of the day and Martin left feeling a little relieved that he hadn't done anything else to piss him off that day.
_________________________________________
A month into his new role he started to understand the gravity of his situation. After organising the boxes near their desks sorted into decades, and then those decades into each calendar month, Jon decided they were going into research immediately. Even Martin in his three weeks of archiving knew this was a stupid decision, it reminded him of what Elias had said to him, what was it? ‘Jon has a tendency to focus on one project entirely and will ignore the larger disorganisation issues’. He at least understood what he had meant now.
Sasha had protested at first saying it was far more important to read the summaries and organise filing systems on those than in-depth reports on statements. But Jon had said that just because we are dealing with a lot of statements, doesn't mean we should not do our job. So Martin, Tim and Sasha were stapling reports that weren't attached to their designated statement.
He’d started to like Tim and Sasha a lot. He learned that they had met at a fundraiser a few years ago and when heading home realised they were three streets from each other. Had been really close friends ever science.
“He has no idea what he’s doing” Sasha said
“Who?”
“Jon” Martin and Sasha said simultaneously.
Sasha looked to Martin in relief “Right?! Like it makes no sense to do the reports last”
“I mean I wasn't going to say anything. But yeah this is the least effective way to have the archive functional”
“woah, woah” Tim interrupted, slamming his hands together into a T “Timeout, why is this not a good idea?”
Martin looked to Sasha.
She took a breath “It’s like… adding the final details on a painting without having a base sketch. You will have some absolutely amazing sections but the whole painting is still needing a basecoat”
“In this case the basecoat is the actual filing system and if we can't find anything by where it was, the nature of the statement and even the decade we are going to have a lot of problems some up really quickly”
Huh, Tim nodded and Sasha gazed at Martin in a curious look adjusting her glasses asking “Do you also have a degree in archival sciences or Information Management?”
He bit his lip “No I learnt most of it practically as I was working in the library up until now”
“So what did you graduate in?” Tim asked innocently.
Martin felt his blood freezing. In his seven years in the library he had never been asked about his degree, He’d talk about Edinburgh, sure the university experience he never had. David and him once shared stories of Uni and couldn't speak to him for the next week feeling so awful about lying to him during a bonding moment. But now this was a credential check.
“Oh I went to Edinburgh to do psychology and then stayed to do my Master’s” that would hopefully be enough.
“You have a Master’s?”
Big mistake. He'd forgotten how much people love to talk about their masters.
“Amazing I thought I was the only one with a masters here” Sasha began “I did History for my Undergraduate before getting my masters in Archival sciences at UCL, did my Thesis on Documentation and academic resistance to War and conflict. If you want to read id be happy to get you a copy”
“It’s really good” Tim agreed
He had to deflect so they didn't have any time to ask him about his non-existent Thesis.
“Does anyone want a cup of tea?”
It was a bad excuse but it was the only one he had.
They agreed and gave their orders, milk no sugar for Sasha and milk two sugars for Tim. Picking up the three mugs that were on their now-desks, he looked to Jon’s office blinds still down and the door shut. He was tempted to knock and ask if he needed a refill and as his fist rose the door opened as Jon stood there.
Jon hadn't been wearing the suit he’d grown accustomed to these past few weeks, Well it was a suit technically. He was wearing a relaxed white shirt black tie and woollen suit jacket, but it looked comfy? His eyes were wider without his glasses on deep and brown that made his stomach flutter.
“Martin?”
“Oh sorry to um- did you want a cup of tea?” Martin asked to see several discarded mugs inside.
“I’ll be fine thank you” They stood for a moment before Jon widened his eyes at Martin who apologised and let him move past.
The archive was massive stretching out the entire length of the institute, but although it was the biggest it wasn't the only space in the basement. There were many rooms in the archive itself, Jon's office, statement giving room, a room for Historical books that were too fragile to be kept in the library, Three filing rooms, storage rooms and then his favourite. The staff room.
Admittedly it looked like it was stuck in the nineteen nineties, with the white plaster ceiling tiles that belonged to every classroom he had ever been in. Vinyl kitchen floor in a checkerboard pattern that was in desperate need of a mop, a Humming fridge and a set of tables and wooden chairs that had seen better days. Martin loved it though. He got the deluxe box of yorkshire tea down from the cupboard and began boiling the kettle and smiled as he got the tea tray from the top of the linoleum fridge.
Making his way back into the archive pushing the door with his back now having learned his lesson after the ‘Dog incident’ as Sasha and Tim labeled it. Martin smiled as he saw the grateful faces of Tim and Sasha thanking him whilst Jon was still in his office.
When five o'clock came Tim, Sasha and he made their way through the fire exit in the archive, a set of steps to street level then the door then another few steps before you were in the alley by the institute. They probably should have been leaving through the actual institute doors but at the end of the day they didn't want to brace two flights of steep stairs to the front entrance only to walk down again.
He waved to Tim and Sasha catching their bus before he made his way toward the tube station thinking about his paycheck. This would be his first paycheck that he wouldn't have to worry about micro managing his income for the month. After rent and his payment to Ivy meadows he should be able to actually buy something nice for himself for once, maybe a new calligraphy set for his poetry? Obviously after his expenses like Food, electricity his phone bil-
Martin groaned. Of course he left his phone at work, the router they had down there was patchy for Wifi so he just wasn't using his phone as much. So he left it on his desk.
He turned on his heels back to the institute grateful that it was spring time now so it wasn't as dark. He went to the entrance and saw the door we locked, bugger.
Wait, maybe the fire exit was still open?
Martin rushed around the alley to see the black iron railings and made his way down the steps and opened the door with a click. He looked across the archive, empty, nobody here. Walking to his desk collecting his phone he turned and saw Jon’s office light was still on. Thinking Jon had forgotten to turn it off when he left he opened the door with a creak.
“Now, after that, the Doll House became one of those houses for our crew. Not so much for any known- Martin?”
Jon was still here ?
“Jon, what are you doing here?”
“I could ask the same,” He said, moving a tape recorder away from him.
“I left my phone,” Jon nodded, turning his head away from him. Martin glanced at his desk covered in papers and scattered pens and mugs “Are you still reading statements?”
“Recording” he corrected.
Martin finally noticed the tape recorder “What on that?” he scoffed.
Jon glared at him like he had done the past few times Martin had annoyed him. Martin was ready for a lecture telling off but Jon just sighed and took off his glasses.
“Ive tried everything, my laptop, my desktop computer that Sasha got for us, I even borrowed my roommate's recording equipment. Nothing works down here” he looked at martin “So yes we are using tape recorders, they don't use the internet so its reliable. Do you have a problem with that?”
“No no nothing at all” he said shaking his head as Jon reached for the statement he was recording “In fact I think its kinda Retro, its cool” Jon smiled to himself.
“I’ll see you Monday,Martin. And you’ll have your first assignment" Martin nodded, not really paying attention to what Jon was saying, just the kind look he gave him, kind and sweet.
“See you monday”
Martin shut his office door shut, smiling and a heat in his cheeks he hadn't noticed. He was so dedicated to getting the archives done and was freaking about it just like Martin. Seems they were similar after all and maybe Jon would be nicer to him in future, and maybe he’d see that side of Jon again. No he wanted to see that side of Jon and-
Oh no.
It was like water rising that he tried to push down all of a sudden not realising he was drowning. These feelings and thoughts that he had been having of Jon, that he was possibly thinking about his boss's hair.That was his boss! As he made his way out of the archive back up the steps to the alley he leaned his head back on the wall his cheeks went red.
He had a crush on Jon.
“Shit”