Time to take a ✨oneshot✨

lol listen to reason

Groff had saved Ramos's ass too many times to count.

He just kept slipping up for the most random things though- most times it wasn't even a mistake. He just did something Miranda didn't like and then he was a goner. Normally it was some snarky comment that slipped out.

"Ramos, when will you learn? You know how he gets," he scolded one morning, sipping his tea.

"Most of the time I don't even do anything," he whined.

"Mhm," Jon rolled his eyes. Frankly, he didn't care whether he did anything or not but- it made it much harder to keep Lin calm.

Jonathan recalled the first time witnessing such a thing.

Miranda was fuming this time and Ramos wasn't sure how he was gonna get out of this one. All he needed was a piece of paper. And wouldn't you know it, the only place in the house with paper was Miranda's office. If that guy wasn't plotting or killing (or fucking Groff, apparently) he was writing.

How was he to know all his important stuff was in that notebook?

He'd sort of snuck into his office, knocking first to make sure he wasn't inside- he knew what he would say, but he really needed something to write on.

He was flipping through the notebook, looking for an empty page when he came across what looked like a diary. And that's when the doorknob turned. He was frozen in place as Miranda walked in, stopping mid step upon seeing Ramos looking over the open notebook on his desk.

A second passed where Ramos could've sworn he saw raw fear in his eyes before a fiery rage and his steps quickened as he reached his side, twisting his arm over and Anthony let out a small yell in pain.

"What did I tell you?" he hissed, "What did I fucking tell you about coming into my office when I'm not here?!" he rose his voice, cracking from exhaustion. He released his arm, pushing him back and Ramos couldn't tell if he was about to throw a punch or whip out his pistol.

He did neither. He kicked him in the balls. Anthony cried out in pain, hunching over.

The door was still ajar- Miranda had a thing about never closing the door behind him, unless he really needed to be alone.

Jonathan came up behind Lin upon hearing the noise, and just as he was about to punch Ramos in the nose, he grabbed his fist, pulling him back to hold him against the wall. He grunted, trying to squirm free but each time he did, Jonathan pushed him back harder, not breaking eye contact, narrowing his eyes.

"Ramos," Groff said coldly, still holding Lin in place.

"Yes?" he stammered weakly, still in pain.

"Leave."

"Yes," he ran out of there as fast as he could. The door slammed behind him.

"What's your problem?" he asked Miranda, solemnly, not willing to indulge in his bullshit today. He leaned away from him, sitting on the desk.

He watched as Lin's nostrils flared, fingers tensing and untensing, scrunching his nose. He took three pencils and snapped them all at once, hurling them across the room. Lin huffed quietly, watching them scatter.

"Are you done?" Jonathan asked, raising an eyebrow. Miranda's chest was still heaving but he nodded slightly, "So what happened?" he looked down at the notebook, "What's this?"

He could hear Lin gulp as he snatched it away, wide eyes.

"Well what is it?" he repeated, scrunching his brow together. Miranda was clutching it to his chest, biting the inside of his cheek.

"Nothing. Doesn't matter," he'd told him, shoving it in a drawer. Jonathan would've pressed on but- he was tired.

He'd save that conversation for another day.