"Well, I'm pretty sure most archives don't have statements that won't digitize."

Martin laughs again. “Yeah, fair point. Guess it’s hard to tell how much normal applies here.”

"But it's sort of strange. I can't think why having them tape-recorded would make them more useful, I guess unless someone is trying to use the Archives and also blind."

Helpless shrug. “I guess. Maybe he just wants... more copies, for some reason? I don’t know, I’m not used to, uh... questioning what people tell me to do here? It sounds kind of pathetic when I say it like that, but.”

...oh crap he has to figure out how to be sensitive to other people's feelings.

The thing that comes out of his mouth is "...you're not stupid."

“....oh. I. Um. Thank... you?” He’s tearing up a little. “That’s. Uh. You did... just... meet me? But. Thank you.”

"You are not stupid or pathetic and would probably be considerably less of both if you had any self-confidence whatsoever," he says hypocritically.

“.....................................................................oh. Uh. Wow. I mean, thank you! I’m going to get you some tea now? Enough sugar and milk that you can’t taste the tea?”

He is bright red as he almost-runs out of the room, not really waiting for an answer. 

..................oh no he's really bad at people.

He's just going to. Read his introduction to library science textbook now.

Martin comes back eventually, long past the amount of time it would take to make even the most complicated cup of tea, eyes a bit red but looking significantly more composed. He’s holding two cups of tea again. “Um. Sorry about that. I’m usually a bit better than this? I guess I’m not used to... being... complimented? Which sounds a lot more depressing when I say it out loud? Point is. Uh. Thank you? I really, uh, I’m glad you were hired. And I brought you tea! I’ll—if you want to talk about that we can, but if you don’t we don’t have to bring this up again and we can pretend it never happened.”

".............. my boyfriend's dead."

“OhgodI’msosorry— I didn’t mean— this is normally when I’d offer to make you tea but I already did that— but if you want anything else? I’m really really sorry, I really didn’t mean anything like that, I. Uh. If you ever need anything just. Ask? Or if you want me to just. Go. That’s fine too.”

Why did he say that. This entire conversation is just getting worse and worse. 

"........I don't want you to go I just. Um. I'm kind of a mess, I don't know... how to... do... social things... because Asher did all the social things and now he's gone and mostly when I am trying to compliment people I do it by calling them an idiot and telling them they're wrong about everything and if I did that to you it would be like kicking a puppy and I feel like I am digging myself into a deeper and deeper hole and I don't know how to make you not scared of me."

“Oh. I’m. I don’t know how much you can? You’re not scary you’re just—“ He waves his hands around vaguely. “I’m kind of scared of... everything? And I’m also a mess, and I’m—bad at this, okay, but you’re already one of the least scary people I know here, which is impressive because you’re my boss and I just met you yesterday? I guess I’m trying to say that... you’re good, actually. And I guess I’m just... not very used to that.”

"You are the only person so far who has given me vaguely useful information in response to questions. And I really need someone to bounce ideas off of because I just discovered magic exists yesterday and my boyfriend is dead and I don't, actually, have other people to talk to. --Also it seems really unlikely that you are possessed by an evil spirit or something. Just, like, I realize I'm reasoning only from horror movies here and for all I know real-life evil spirits universally have serious anxiety disorders, but it seems reaaaaaaaally hard to imagine."

Martin laughs weakly at that, his shoulders relaxing. “Yeah. Yeah, I guess that’s true at least. Martin Blackwood, voted least likely to be possessed by an evil spirit three years running! I’ll— do my best to be a good sounding board, then.”

"...is that a thing I actually have to worry about?"

“I don’t... think so? Nothing happened to me or anyone I knew in Research, I bet Artefact Storage is more dangerous if you’re not careful but the Archives always seemed... kind of innocuous? I didn’t really pay it much attention, honestly. I don’t even know if evil spirits are the sort of thing that exists, but if they do, I figure someone should be learning about them. ...Right?”

"I think I am going to start out at paranoia level 'incredibly paranoid' and then loosen up if it seems like I'm not dead." He points to his hands, which are covered in latex gloves. "I am not wearing these as a fashion statement."

“...Yeah, that’s fair. I support you not being dead! Not being dead is great!”

On one hand, this is not very professional. On the other hand, nothing at the Archives has actually been particularly professional yet.

"...do you want a hug?"

“......Yeah. Yeah, that’d be good.”

Martin gives very good hugs. 

Lev hasn't been hugged since his boyfriend disappeared.

Lev's very short and Martin is very tall-- he must be a foot and a half taller than Lev-- so Lev can press his face into Martin's chest, which is warm and solid and very nice. He manages to avoid doing anything embarrassing out of muscle memory, like rubbing his face into Martin's chest like a cat or announcing "soft!" 

It’s very possible that Martin hasn’t been hugged in a while either; the hug lasts longer than is at all professional, and when he breaks away, it’s reluctant. “....thank you. That was... good.”

"I miss Asher," Lev says. "That is my boyfriend. Was. Asher Kane."