Well, can't say he didn't try.
If this was anyone else, he'd nudge at the matter in rebuttal. That's how he got most of his team off the clock at a reasonable ( ish ) time, anyways. But Damien? No dice. Still, that hadn't stopped him from trying ( clearly ). So he lets the stickler carry on with the double and triple checking. Winces every now and then whenever a button is jammed a little too hard or the paper scratches particularly harsh. Yet he doesn't press ... right away.
Blunt nails idly scratch at his jaw while he watches. Sympathetic, but appreciative of the man's diligence. Easing out a sigh, he wanders over to a nearby desk. The back of a rolling chair is then dragged over, stopping just short of the accountant's desk. Into the seat he plops, the pleather of it squeaking in protest.
"Figured you'd say that." Or at least some iteration of it β hence the foresight to bring his brick of a laptop. With the dinky electronic device settled on his lap ( doesn't dare to encroach on his coworker's already cluttered space ), he waits for it to reboot. "But after thatβ we both get out of here." Still pleasant in tone βalmost joking, evenβ he's firm in making it a statement rather than request.
