Chapter Text
When Tim, Jon and Martin all make it to the entrance, panting. Tim grins and pushes the door open, making an off hand comment about their impromptu race, “I think I won,” Martin gasps, trying to sound more offended than exhausted and out of breath, “What? You cheated?! Tim!”
Jon almost tips over, holding himself up on the door handle; He notes in his head about liquid in the ear that helps balance but he just can’t recall the name of it, something medical. Instead of thinking of all the theory in keeping oneself upright, Jon instead played all his inability to stay vertical to hold the door open for a very pretty lady.
While Tim and Martin bickered just a metre away, in waltzed Sasha with such glamour, so calm, not a speck of sweat on her; It’s Sasha.
“Sasha! You saw the race, I so won!” “You had a head start! I was right there and you yanked me!” “All’s well that ends well!”
People’s eyes burn into Jon’s arm, especially as people start to stare. With no more reason to hold the door open, Jon straightens out and lets the heavy thing slam shut behind him with a small bang, the metal mechanism that’s supposed to close it slowly seems to be missing or overlooked.
Extending his cane again, (having collapsed the thing while running) to lean on that instead. Stumbling over to Sasha, Jon leans on her just a little, who is so lovely in so many more ways than being the most competent and to Jon’s surprise loops their arms together.
The cafe itself is nothing special; A newly opened bagel shop, clean open floor without a cobweb in sight with a thick light blue stripe painted across the windows. The whole shop hasn’t acquired the other feeling of London, the spray paint that most of the alley walls have, which are tags and graffiti although the occasional mural does show up around the populated city.
It’s very bright and new, LED lights without any electrical buzzing, spotless tables without any stains or dents from spilt coffee and especially with their employees. They smile politely at every new customer; Jon can spot a sign in the back, just behind the counter that says ‘Remember to smile’. It’s almost ridiculous. There’s a brand new surveillance camera in the other corner from where Jon is standing, Jon almost feels uncomfortable that something is watching him. The feeling’s a little like deja vu.
Most of the seats are full, opening on a busy street does make it one of the first things a driver will see when passing by. Scanning the crowd of people, Jon is able to spot a couple people just leaving from the corner of the cafe.
The ‘booth’ is two tables pushed together, one chair tucked as far in the corner as possible and two chairs half tucked in while the last looks like it was abandoned— the nerve of some people.
Moving his gaze back towards the options, Jon realises both Tim and Sasha are staring, “Jon? What do you wanna get?” Sasha squeezes his arm just slightly, “Just— Uhm.” Scanning the menu, Jon probably should have put more thought into it but he instead blurts out the first thing he recognises, “BLT?”
It seems to be a good enough answer as Tim gives him a thumbs up and Sasha pulls him along to the table, leaving Martin and Tim to wait for their food.
Sasha helps Jon into the corner seat as she sits opposite him, Jon props his cane against the wall behind him. This is the moment Sasha decides to have the conversation, “So, was that…” Jon just shrugs softly before pulling out his phone when he feels it buzz again.
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14:37
The Crew of the Starship Aurora
TheDuckSong: @Captain D’Ville 1pm at the park down the road from Nastya’s shop? The one by the playground
Captain D’Ville: im still at work :/
TheDuckSong: Not a problem!
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“What has Tim told you?” Out of the corner of his eye, Jon can only see Sasha deflate a little at being caught as a confidant of some secret sharing but she doesn’t give up, she has never done before and will not start now, “Not much, some vague message about being queer.”
Finally, Jon gets some confirmation about what lie he needs to settle on (or well, half lie: he was in fact trans) “I really should tell him about keeping his mouth shut.” It was as good as twiddling his thumbs since Jon isn’t doing anything with his phone; The vibration was just some message he doesn’t care too much about. He puts it in his pocket.
“You know him,” Sasha has this soft look in her eye as she stares off past the table, curious, Jon flicks his eyes up, Jon catches Tim teaching Martin some ‘secret’ handshake while waiting, he suspects Tim found it on Twitter or Youtube. “I suppose I do,” Exasperated, Jon sighs and nods in agreement as they settle into a comfortable silence.
“I…” He never was good at the whole feelings thing, (how did Georgie put up with him?) he should’ve spent the walk practicing his explanation. “I was just… taking a break?” For goodness sake, Jon took a literature degree in University, he really should’ve been better at this. “It just ached, you know?” The whole situation felt a little like a secret mission; it would if Jon wasn’t busy panicking over his lack of explanation.
“I get it!” Sasha was so understanding, from what standpoint? “I know those things are awful on the ribs,” despite the difference in the point of view, Jon did find it funny how uncannily similar the two things were. “I know I don’t have the best—” “You don’t.”
The pair stare at each other for a moment, brown eyes meeting hazel ones before inevitably Sasha is the one to break, grinning softly and her eyes upturn just that slight bit that Jon always notices, “Thanks.” Jon huffs at the interruption but it lacks any actual anger, “You don’t have to explain yourself.”
Confused, Jon tilts his head just a bit. “...What?” He pauses. Jon is baffled to say the least. Growing up, he was always told ‘I don’t know’ wasn’t an answer, how there was always an explanation. Sasha continues, “You don’t have to.” Her voice was calm, certain— entirely unlike how Jon has been at work lately, “I get it, I know what you’re like,” Fond, Jon could pick it up in her voice, despite his usual blindness to that sort of cue. “Rude.” “Jon.” “What?”
Shifting in his seat, Jon feels uncomfortable and it’s not because of his shoddy dressing from the office. “It’s fine. Just give us a notice?” Jon groans and leans back in his chair, “Yes, Tim told me back at the Institute.” “Great minds think alike,” and like that Tim and Martin seem to have magically appeared beside the table with a tray of their bagels.
Martin takes a seat next to Jon as Tim immediately claims the seat by Sasha before dishing out the bagels like he’s a waiter at a Michelin star restaurant, “And for the beautiful lady?” Rolling her eyes, Sasha plays along, “Oh, me?” She bats her eyes and flicks her hair. “The turkey melt?” Humming, Tim grins, finally sitting down to dish the rest out.
Beginning to chew down on his BLT, quickly learning Jon would rather it without the tomatoes and he silently wishes to pick them out.
So he does. Although, instead of the usual ignorance Tim and Sasha grant him the privilege of, Martin makes eye contact with Jon.
“Uh—” Jon goes to try to explain something unnecessary for the second time that day, “No— It’s fine. Do… Do you want a hand for that?” Again, for the second time today Jon is being stunned to silence by just a couple words, he didn’t even notice his hands were shaking, how tightly was he gripping his cane? “Please— Thank you.”
Martin puts his own bagel in the little paper wrapping it came in before helping Jon with something so basic Jon should realistically feel embarrassed. He does. Obviously, he does, but Martin has been so helpful and unconditionally kind for these stupid kinds of requests. “All done!” “Right. Thank you, again.” All the tomato slices were placed in a tissue just to the side of Jon.
“Oh!” The table makes a little bang on impact as Tim smacks it with his hand that’s not holding the bagel that looks like it’s about to drip some sort of sauce, “Who won?”
“Oh,” Jon has to think back to an hour or so ago, noting every single task, its importance, its quality, quantity etc, “I think it was Sasha, Martin then you.”
“This is an outrage.” “I’m sure it is.” Sasha was smug as Jon handed her the last of his sweets and Tim would have blown a raspberry if Sasha and Martin hadn’t scolded him about spitting in their food.
“Anyway! Jon, we’re all planning on heading out at the end of the week.” “Mhm?” Another bite out of his bagel, he did like the place, despite the fact it was still quick busy, it was winding down as lunch passed by. “I mean, you wanna tag along?”
It takes a second to register, but Jon had already answered without thinking, “Busy.” “Come on, Jon…” Tim just groans in almost disbelief that he had any plans at all, “We gotta hit it off! We haven’t exploded the Archives yet.” That was a low bar, even for Jon, “Yes, quite the herculean task. Not blowing up a book.”
Another bite, this one Jon has to peel back the paper again, getting to the point where he’s deciding whether to save the rest for later or just get his soup again from the fridge.
“I do have plans.” Glaring up at Tim, who was unnecessarily pushy about this, Jon briefly wonders what this outing could be so important for even Tim to want him so badly to come out, “I mean, you don’t have to come…” even more when Martin is a voice of reason. “It’s just some uh…” Trailing off, Martin loses his train of thought and looks towards the other pair at the other side of the table. “Bonding,” Sasha chimes in as well, “We haven’t gone out much since we all got transferred!”
“I suppose that is fair but I have predetermined plans for Friday and subsequently the weekend.” With how outings with the Mechanisms go, Jon is almost certain he’ll wake up drunk and at someone’s house.
“That’s okay! We can manage, right?” Martin just grins softly, only a tinge sad before Tim hums, “Next week?” Tim pushes back again. What is Jon meant to do? Never interact with his coworkers again if he screws up? …maybe. “I… suppose I can make that happen.” Jon can almost see his near future where he regrets this decision as he watches Tim pump his fists in the air and by any adjective, do a little jig.
Maybe this wasn’t as bad as he thought— A twitch in his feathers said otherwise.
“Hey, Jonny!”
Recognising that voice didn’t need any extra knowledge, any sight or hidden social cues: Jonathan Sims’ honorary sister.
Jon decides now he's fucked.