[Q leans in, and Strand ducks his head, jaw winding tight--I'm listening, but I don't have to be happy about it. He's been around the block enough that he knows this. He should know it. That he has to be reminded, even this way is embarrassing at best. It sits in the air as Q settles back in his seat, churning until Strand admits thinly:]
The trainings never fit in my schedule. I need--I need accommodations if I'm going to get them in the next month. I know that Sims has been meaning to make to them tpo, we could--schedule something.
Yes, but the employee health insurance cares about you being shot. [ Stiffly, like he's reprimanding-- well, an employee, and not a colleague he just bothered to face happy hour traffic to go join in sulking at a bar. Q abandons the beer and instead orders another shot of of whiskey.
At least the bartender remembers Strand's scowl from earlier, and again doesn't card Q before bringing the drink over. ] But alright. I'll see if I can get them to schedule a training on a day you're not being sent out for field research.
no subject
The trainings never fit in my schedule. I need--I need accommodations if I'm going to get them in the next month. I know that Sims has been meaning to make to them tpo, we could--schedule something.
I don't care about being shot. Or stitched.
no subject
At least the bartender remembers Strand's scowl from earlier, and again doesn't card Q before bringing the drink over. ] But alright. I'll see if I can get them to schedule a training on a day you're not being sent out for field research.