As he removes himself from the Guardian's desk, he pats his pants off as he stands up straight. Not nearly as tall as the other, he tips his chin up so he can actually look him in the eye when he speaks to him.
Gaze averts to the side where he'd been sitting, watching as Dedan grabbed the letters and paperwork. He makes no comment about the eagerness he holds to get his hands on such documents, but he finds that he has no interest in his extremely personal life details.
There's a nod as he explains his work business. "You have somewhere to be?" The Guardian looked to be in a hurry with how ready he was (than normal) to be rid of his presence. A brow raises under the black cap as he eyes the taller male. "Don't let me keep you from important business." This seemed rather formal of him, dismissing the fact that normally he is being chewed out by the man before him.
The Batter looks off to the side and purses his lips. "It's been so long since I've been in here," he murmurs to himself. "Going to be a pain to remember the way out."
There was something so... strange about this occurrence. The domesticity, the lack of explosions and fireballs he'd grown to expect from every Batter known to mankind. Dedan found himself standing still and realizing the weirdness of his own actions and reactions, even so much as to not realize things starting to slip out of his mitts and the room silence for the seconds between. This was strange. It was as if the Batter had just come in to be... friendly? Decent? Water cooler talk?
What the hell was even going on??
He'd ask, simply. "There's a pattern to it. If you're not a complete dipshit, it'll burn itself into your head. What are you even here for?" A bad jumble of statements and questions, he hissed exasperated at himself, overtaxing his brain trying to make sense of bat-wielding brutalizer who probably smashed my alter ego's zone in another timeline is just wanting to have quality time.
In time, Dedan had realized that sometimes you just didn't need a reason for every little thing. There was a time when he relished in that. In spontaneous pedalo rides and sharing blueprints and ideas with Japhet and Enoch. Maybe that was something that died with him-- but then again, maybe not.
"Come on. If you're wanting to lurk around me while I do paperwork, you can. I'll give you access. Just don't try to pull any funny business or I'll rip your head square off your shoulders." With a long stride, he made his way back toward his office, shuffing his papers to himself and waving the other in with a free hand.
Maybe he finally found the right side of his bed. It had only taken years.
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