Please, Take It.

~Part 2~

"Shite!"

Shawn frantically pushed Dark back. Grabbing his wrist and dragging him to the door.
"Stay behind this door and stay quiet," he hissed quietly.

Dark was taken aback at how commanding he sounded and decided to do as he said. Rolling his eyes and nodding that he would comply.
Taking a rushed deep breath he calmly opened the door slightly. There, not really paying attention but rummaging through a bag he was holding, was Wally. Wally Franks was supposedly the attendant and designer of some ink machine that Mr. Drew was making but most of the time Wally could be found walking around the studio doing his other job... janitorial.

"Wha- what do ya need, Wally?" Shawn was trying his best to keep calm. But standing in the doorway, shifting his weight from foot to foot as he was probably didn't come across as calm. Thankfully Wally wasn't really paying attention. That's probably why he was always losing his keys.

Still rummaging through the bag he grumbled out in his Brooklyn accent," Sammy's lookin' for yous."

A flood of a different kind of nerves came over Shawn at that moment, "Really?" He squeaked. Clearing his throat a bit, hoping no one caught his voice cracking, "What for?"

"How's am I suppose to know?" He sounded irritated. Giving up on looking through his bag for whatever reason he began to rant, "I'm supposed to keep some newfangled machine in working order, clean up after yous so called artists, and now yous all want me to play messenger boy?"

Shawn tried to interject and apologize but Wally just kept ranting that he just gave up and let the man continue.
After what was only a few minutes Wally finally paused but Shawn didn't take it as his chance to say anything. Wally reaches up for his flat cap, takes it off his head and used it to point at Shawn for emphasis as he said, "You'lls all see. One day I won't be here to kick around. I'm outta here!"

Shawn watched as Wally stormed down the hall. When he was clear out of view he took a step outside his door to see if anyone else was around. His level of the studio seemed to be oddly quiet. Thinking nothing of it he stepped back into his office and closed the door. With his back pressed against the door and his eyes shut he took a deep sigh of relief.

Dark cleared his throat loudly, "Who is this Sammy?"

Shawn's eyes darted open and he pushed himself off the door almost stumbling not just over his feet but his words, "Music man... director." The word director came out louder then he would have liked.
He was trying to make his way back to his desk when Dark stepped in front of him, a sly smirk on his face. That took Shawn by surprise and he halted and took a step back.
Wanting to avoid whatever was going through Dark's head he stammered on trying his best to keep his voice sounding normal and factorial, "Sammy Lawrence is the music department's director."

Tilting his head to the side with a slightly puzzled but intrigued look on his devilish face, "Why would the director of the music department be looking for you, a toy maker?"

Shawn scoffed, "What's that supposed to mean?"

Dark hadn't intended for his words to be insulting. But from the look on Shawn's face that's exactly how they were received.
"I was only implying that he's the head of a different department."

Shawn rolled his eyes at Dark's lousy attempt at backtracking. Still standing in his way he saw this as an opportunity to have another dose of 'medicine'.
Turning on his heels he headed for his bag. As he was about to take a sip he was interrupted as Dark placed a fingertip over the opening.

"A department head is looking for you. Is this really a time for you to be drinking?"

"One, ya are not my boss," said Shawn while with his free hand took hold of Dark's finger and removed it. "And two, anytime is a time to be drinkin'."