(no subject)

[telecommute]

Leo was late.

Not late enough to quite worry, to call their superiors, but long enough for Ivan to start worrying. Admittedly Ivan's threshold for worry was a low one indeed, especially seeing as it wasn't like he could exactly go look for Leo. The coffee table was laid out with an empty space for whatever research Leo brought back, empty notebooks and index cards to catalog and sticky notes and all color of pens to organize waited in neat stacks to break the research down into usable and referable bits.

The small kitchen table was set up ready to take tea at. Ivan clicked a few beads on his rosary together before getting up to put the kettle on just the same, even without Leo there. Busying himself with the work would ease his anxiety, he just needed something to do with his hands.

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[telecommute]

"Fries," Ivan said after a bit of thought. "Just a little one. No soda. I have soda here."

Strange Russian brands of soda, anyway. He liked it, it was what he grew up with, in spite of never visiting the country.

"Thank you, Leo. I should have something more by the time you get back. Be safe. Pick up another phone."

That was the most important thing, clearly.

[busybean]

Fries, he added to the mental checklist. Probably no ketchup, but he'd get some anyway, just in case. Little by little, he was doing his best to learn Ivan's idiosyncrasies.

"I'll pick one up if I see one," he promised, "but I'll just head to the store tomorrow if I can't. I'll be back in like, an hour tops."

[telecommute]

Ivan snorted in displeasure at the dismissive concern about having a way to communicate. Utterly irresponsible.

"I am going to time you!" he said, which would have to function as a goodbye while he buried his nose in the scrolls and books.

[busybean]

It would be a solid hour and forty minutes before Leo would return. Not to be impolite, but he'd gotten a little lost and overwhelmed in all of his books before packing up the ones they needed, and then of course the all-night diner he'd decided to stop by was packed. He slipped in, two greasy paper sacks in hand. "Hey, sorry," he murmured. "Time got away."

[telecommute]

"An hour and forty minutes!" Ivan yelled as soon as Leo returned, storming up to him with worry and anger alike crossing his features. His normally messy hair was in even more disarray than usual. He had given up on his paperwork around the hour and ten mark and had been working himself into a fit in the remaining time.

"This is why I say you need phone! An hour and forty minutes is not an hour!"

[busybean]

And Leo, for his part, was briefly stunned into silence. He'd been expecting a complaint, or a grumpy remark, or- well, for Ivan to have not noticed, because why should he care if he was gone one hour or three? Dumb. Dumb, dumb. They were partners, he had to... remember that.

"Hey. Hey, look, sorry- it's hard to keep track of time without a clock in your pocket. I'm fine, dude, there aren't any monsters between your place and mine. Calm down- eat with me?"

[telecommute]

Ivan's hands clenched and unclenched into fists, trembling as the adrenaline-fueled anger faded into just worry, then to regret at his outburst.

"... I ... I apologize," He said finally, choking out the words and turning away quickly. "We do not yet know each other well. I worry. I should not have yelled. But please - get a phone as soon as possible or - or find someone else's you can use if you will be later than you say you will be."

Turning on his heel, Ivan went to the kitchen area as he frantically tried to smooth his hair back into some sense of order, setting out plates and cups and grabbing the kvass he kept in the fridge.

[busybean]

"No- no, it's fine. You're right. That's- that one's on me." Leo could feel his face flushing hot with something like embarrassment, as if he were a teenage boy breaking curfew. "That's how people in our job get into really stupid situations. I'll get one first thing in the morning."

He had been growing extra sleepy again, but now he could feel the blood pounding in his ears, and so he just took a seat at the table and began to silently unpack their food.

[telecommute]

"Thank you," Ivan said quietly, the gratitude in his voice deep and genuine.

"... Have you had kvass before?" it was a shitty attempt to change the subject, but it was there. The argument had been resolved and passed, only thing to do was move on.

While grabbing the dark brown soda he also took a few more condiments and vegetables from his refrigerator, taking his aggressively plain burger and adding his own fixings himself.

Ivan liked his things in a very particular way. He didn't trust fast food places to get them right, even if it was a nice treat. UberEats had raised his variety significantly and yet he rarely branched out.