Nightvale's Archivist

Friday Plans

     That following Monday, Tim starts pestering Jon. While he works nonetheless. Any notion that he might have loved Tim, platonically or otherwise, has been completely thrown out the window.
     "Tim, don't you have anything more important to do? Like that stack of papers over there," he points his pen in the general direction of Tim's desk. Tim walks over to his desk reluctantly. Only to return seconds later, throwing the papers down onto Jon's desk.
     He pulls up a chair (drives it over, more like) and begins working alongside Jon. He continues to work in silence for a few minutes, before he goes back to his antics. Jon gives a sigh of resignation. Unlike Tim, he's actually trying to get some work done.
      "About plans for this Friday," Tim starts. Jon stops him before he can even begin. "The plans for this Friday are go to Camden Market and buy some girl scout cookies, simple as that."
    "But that's no fun," Tim pouts. "Mmm, too bad," Jon replies noncommitally. "Why are these dumb girl scout cookies so important exactly?" Jon rolls his eyes at Tim's stupidity. Poor fool has obviously never had girl scout cookies before.
    "One, they taste heavenly. Two, my cousin was a girl scout, and my papa was a boy scout when he was kid. It's tradition to buy scout cookies whenever you can," Jon cross refrences a statement with the investigation report he's finishing up.
    "Tell you what, you get some work done, I'll bring you with me to get the cookies," Tim scoffs at the suggestion," I'm not done Tim. I'll bring you with me to get cookies, and we can hit up the pub that I used to visit when I was in Uni. How does that sound?"
     This time Tim agrees, more compliant now that alchol's involved. Jon shakes his head. The things he has to do and promise to get this man to do any work. "Hey Jon," barely even five minutes of silence.
      "Yes, Tim," he knows he made his exasperation evident. He doesn't much care. "Do you mind if I listen to music while I work? I know it can bother some people," oh. Well isn't Tim considerate.
      "Yeah, whatever. I'm used to having music blasting while work gets done. Reminds me of the days I'd spend in my papa's office at the radio station," it's a memory that's barely there, but it's a memory that promises safety and comfort nonetheless.
     "Your papa worked at a radio station?" Looks like no work would be getting done today. " You'll do work while I talk?" Tom nods vigorously. "Good. Anyway, yes. My papa was the town's local radio show host. Still is, I think."
    "Why do you say 'the town?' Didn't you grow up in Bournemouth," Tim interrupts. "Yes, but that was only until I was eight or so. I was put up for adoption after a rather nasty encounter with a thing? Whatever it was called itself Mr. Spider. Anyway, after the encounter, and my grandmother's subsequent release of custody over me, I was placed for adoption. It didn't take long until Papa and dad took me in."
    He smiles at the memory, the warmth he felt when he first step foot into their house. "So after I was eight I grew up in the town Papa was raised in. No one can really find it, since it's not on any maps that I'm aware of. I do know that the town treated me like I had always been there. Back in Bournemouth I'd always been seen as an entirely different entity."
     "Must've been a welcome relief then, huh," Tim responded. Jon was actually surprised he listened. "Yeah, it was. Janice, ah- cousin that is- didn't even bat an eye when she first met me. Didn't ask why her Uncle suddenly had a kid, just took me off to go meet her friends," he gives a light chuckle at the memory.
     "Hence the going back to Camden Market for girl scout cookies every year," Tim points out. "Yep. I know it's not the smae troop that Janice was in, much less even close to it, but it's the fact of the matter."
   "The sense of familiarity it gives," Tim responds, eyes glued to his paper. Jon has the feeling he has more to say on the matter. "Yeah, how'd you know?" Tim may not realise he has more to say, so prompting him is his best bet of getting him to spill it out.
    "My brother and I used to go on all these adventures as kids. He never stopped adventuring, so I usually take a day off to go kayaking like we did when we were kids. I think that you talking about your cousin and the tradition of buying cookies in her honor reminded me of that,'' he seemed...sad, when he explained.
      Jon just nodded. Sometimes when you can't find the words you need, you let the silence speak for you. Tim seemed to appreciate the sentiment for the time being.

     An hour had gone by, all of which without Tim's voice. Jon was getting worried. He isn't good with words, never has been really. There is one thing he's good at though, and that's music.
     The right song can say everything that he can't. What can't be fit into a song can easily be made into a playlist. Jon pulls up his spotify and wordlessly hands Tim an earbud.
     Tim, without thiking twice, pops it into his ear. He's not sure what he expected. Maybe he was waiting for Mozart or Chopin to play. Instead he was immediately met with something soft and folklore-y. Jon must've seen the shock on his face, because he can hear the man's light giggles from across him.
       "If you think this is surprising, wait until you see what's in my liked songs," he manages through small bursts of giggles. Tim's jaw must've dropped, because now Jon was trying to hide a full blown fit of laughter.
     Tim scowls at Jon, who has now turned his attention to the remaining stack of paperwork. Looking at Jon trying hard to focus on his work reminded him he had his own work to get to.