Second Chance [WH Fan-Fanfic]

Chapter 3: What A Bond!

-December 28, 1970. 2 PM.

“Everyone is busy preparing for the filming of the new episode of the children's program known as “Welcome Home.” The cameramen, directors, lighting supervisors, and other workers, of all people... Gwen stands at her position, in front of the storage door, making sure that all the necessary and important resources are available. Which the studio often needs, a clipboard on which the names of the resources and their suppliers are written. Surrounded by a child walking back and forth with a very bright and cheerful expression on his face. He grabs her fingers and tries to distract her from her work, seeking attention, while she responds to him with a big, playful smile, hiding from him an expression of seriousness and concentration in order to make him feel comfortable and safe even when he is at the workplace...only for someone to interrupt their moment together and pats Gwen on the shoulder from behind, Gwen's gaze shifts from her child to her colleague...Joshua.
When she looked at him, her smile changed from a caring and motherly smile to a professional and serious one, and she took notice that he hadn't come empty-handed.
“I hope you were expecting to get these today...” Joshua smiled back at her, notifying her of the receipt of new supplies that studio officials had pre-ordered by pointing to three boxes stacked on top of each other on the handtruck.
Gwen looked at those boxes with surprise and worry, because she probably wasn't expecting this to happen, especially...
“Hmm, it's rare that we receive packages on Fridays...” Gwen leaned over to those boxes to read the shipping data.
“I know that. It seems that the owner doesn’t like to waste time, The packages have been ordered since Wednesday. At least..this is what was written on the receipt contract...” Joshua explained, looking surprised and also confused by this situation. Gwen nodded, then raised her head to face Joshua...
"From Marlo." She explained that the products were from a production company that the studio used to communicate with... in a somewhat dependent manner, it seemed.
“Oh, how surprising!” Joshua exclaimed sarcastically at Gwen's unhelpful remark, or at least as he viewed it at the time.
"Isn't it, kiddo?" Then he looked at Gwen's little one, who seemed to have been present at the conversation from the beginning, and laughed at Joshua's sarcastic comment while giving him a playful smile.
Gwen shook her head at their ridicule with a small smile, while she took out a cutting blade to open the top box on the handtruck. When she opened the box wide, it became clear to her that it contained several jars of paint. She took out a jar and looked at it.
"...This paint again? It's not the first or second time I've received this much this year" Gwen muttered, but Joshua could hear her.
“..Hmm, I remember that there is a lot of leftover paint from last time that is never used” Gwen continued while looking at Joshua with an uncomprehending expression.
Joshua gave her the same look; Gwen must be honest in what she says, as the responsibility for supervising the equipment and inventory belongs to her.
Given the desperate demand for this paint from that production company, the matter seems suspicious to them. Most of the resources that the studio receives go back to the production of “Marlo”, but the paint bottles that are ordered are not required for the use of workers, but rather to be used for displaying puppets, yes...for Recording episodes, but it does not seem that the purpose of this amount is not only for recording but there is something else...but it is unknown.
Joshua didn't have the opportunity to ask Gwen about where those surplus amounts go after they're used, as she likely doesn't know since her job is part-time. During the state of astonishment in which they were immersed, one of the workers came to ask to take this box of paint to begin using it, so she permitted him, to carry the box that she had opened previously, and to walk away, leaving the other two boxes closed.