lol it occurs to me I should add the corresponding excerpt from the fic!
Elias being silly under the cut:
[Two days before a surprise visit from the Institute’s investors:]
“You’re gonna have to take that request up to Elias! Extra PTO without leave of absence paperwork requires approval from up the chain!”
“Shit,” the Head Archivist hisses. He fishes his phone from the pocket of his slacks as if to start typing an email, then groans and drops his head. “And of course the poor man’s inbox is probably swamped.”
He takes his cane in hand and turns towards the exit with a heavy sigh and a scowl of acute dread, no doubt thinking of the two flights of stairs between him and the upper administrative offices. “Damned old building,” he grumbles, looking down at the floor to watch where he places his feet amongst the mess. “Who cares about the Equality Act if the place is old as dirt? Elevators would ruin its historical charm. I should sue.”
[Later, on the day of the investors’ visit:]
“Well!” says Elias, clapping his hands and smiling brightly at the gathered people. Poor Martin startles damn near out of his skin. “If that’s all for the Archives, I believe that wraps up our tour. The other department heads should be awaiting us in the Mezzanine for lunch.”
Elias leads the gathering away with his promises of food. The archival assistants at least wait until the investors’ backs are turned before they look visibly relieved. Jon follows them out with the attitude of a man being led to the gallows. He’s surprised (and in no small part, pleased) to find Elias waiting for him at the door with an arm for him to take on his bad side, helping him up the stairs like the gentleman he is.
The Alpha cranes his head down while the others aren’t looking, and Jon startles to feel warm breath on his ear, whispering,
“Play up the sympathy for your injuries.”
“What?” Jon hisses under his breath, then curses when he does almost genuinely trip on the last stair out of the Archive. The group swings through the grand foyer towards the big curving double stairs that’ll take them up to the second-floor Mezzanine, which is decked out for company and a catered lunch.
“C’mon, think of the pity money!”
“Wh- th- Elias, that’s undignified!! And ableist!”
“So what? Make money off your minority status, Jon. For the Institute!”
“No.”
“For me?”
“No!”
“Come on, I’ll buy you an elevator.”
“No!”
“An elevator, and a coffee machine for your breakroom.”
“…The kind that makes fancy lattes and such? Like in Artifact Storage?”
“Of course.”
“…Deal.”
Elias pumps his fist with a near-silent ‘yes!’, which almost ruins the ruse when Jon has to smother his chuckle under a cough.
