[Sims user]

So... Martin had developed a bit of a crush on Jonathan Sims. Yes, Head Archivist Jon. Yes, lives-only-off-of-stale-black-coffee Jon. Yes, almost-definitely-hates-him Jon. But he knew there was something under it, that Jon wasn't entirely rude and cold and dry. He knew.

Martin was recording poetry in his room, if you could call it that. It was technically just a spare room in the Archives that Jon made Tim put a cot in, but it was better than his Prentiss-worm-infested flat. He used a tape recorder for all his poetry. He supposed it have it a... sort of lofi charm, even if the poetry wasn't very good. Thank god the walls were soundproof.

Just as he was getting started, he heard a quick knock and subsequent open of the door. He fumbled to click off the tape recorder and shoved what he had wrote under his desk.

It was Jon. He had a bit of a frown on his face and a couple case files in his hands.

"Oh!" Martin started with a bit of an awkward laugh. "Jon, can I, er, help you with, with something?"