"Oh you get stupid when people you care about get hurt? You do? Sure. Okay. Yeah. Buddy, we're in this together. And I'm not going to let him dictate my life. I'm tired of megalomaniacal assholes telling me what to do and forcing me to act a certain way."
Jacobi makes the same face. "Ugh, Jon! I wasn't going there, and I was perfectly happy thinking of him as a nice little Ken doll, but then you had to go and ruin it."
"Yes, well, I had to have an exhaustive conversation with at least one person on why you absolutely shouldn't, not to mention him and his little friend deciding to violate the single request I've ever made of this space, namely not to fuck in it."
He shakes his head.
"Then I've had to explain to Mr. Givens, his warden, why or why not he should consider giving the man back the bones of what was clearly his ex- it's just- ugh."
And he takes a moment to really digest all of that, then latches onto the least offensive part of it.
"Bones, Jon? What the fuck? Did he also ask for a bracelet of their hair? Maybe a really hideous locket so that when he dies, he comes back as a tragic Victorian ghost in a nightgown?"
"That's not- no. No, I don't talk anything like that- that's- that's some sort of bastard child cockney wishes it could forget and something I can't even imagine."
He shakes his head firmly.
"My grandmother would rise from her grave if I spoke like that."
He can't keep it up. Whatever he wanted to say next dissolves into laughter as he leans back in the chair. "Alright, fine. I've had to change my voice on calls before. But rest assured, I've never done that."
"Yes, dear," he says in a fond, mock-beleagured tone as he waves him off cheerfully. That's... done. He's glad it's done. But he doesn't want to think about it. He can't let himself think about it.
He gives him a mock-flirty wave as he disappears past the door and back to the library.
And he has a new set of information about Elias and - well, Jon. Information that he tells himself is only for Elias. That it has nothing to do with Jon. That works. For a while.
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He leans forward.
"Fuck Elias," he says with a laugh.
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"Ugh, I'm sure someone has or will. People here are remarkably stupid about that sort of thing, honestly."
But he'll laugh at the end, because yes, that's- that's a very nice idea. Fuck Elias indeed.
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Ew, Jon.
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He shakes his head.
"Then I've had to explain to Mr. Givens, his warden, why or why not he should consider giving the man back the bones of what was clearly his ex- it's just- ugh."
More headshaking.
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And he takes a moment to really digest all of that, then latches onto the least offensive part of it.
"Bones, Jon? What the fuck? Did he also ask for a bracelet of their hair? Maybe a really hideous locket so that when he dies, he comes back as a tragic Victorian ghost in a nightgown?"
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"...he kept them. in his office. and read me the last letter the man ever wrote to him from a Lonely domain."
It was fucked. up.
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He shakes his head. "Jon, if I ever get that pathetic, please kill me."
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"Who me? Am I not posh enough for you? I can be very Victorian! Yes. Let's drink tea and be very tragic and hang around graveyards."
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"What? This is what I hear when you talk!" he teases, picking up a pencil to twirl between his fingers.
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He shakes his head firmly.
"My grandmother would rise from her grave if I spoke like that."
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And he has a new set of information about Elias and - well, Jon. Information that he tells himself is only for Elias. That it has nothing to do with Jon. That works. For a while.