“Please have a seat, Desmond.” Gavin said as he fixed Desmond with a knowing look - the kind of look a disappointed father might give his wayward son.
They were roughly the same age, but at the moment Des was feeling pretty petulant. His handler did not have good news for him, and even though Desmond knew that Agent Faust the best that he could, that knowledge did nothing to ease his irritation.
“I’d rather not, Agent Faust.” Desmond said, crossing his arms over his chest as he leaned against the wall behind the chair that his handler was motioning to.
“Fine! Fine. Suit yourself.” Gavin gave a deep, harried sigh and ruffled his already unruly hair with both hands. He sat heavily in his brown leather desk chair, which squeaked in protest and scooted back a few inches. “Look, I know this
