It always takes so goddamn long to get one of these paperwork assistance appointments setup. Harvey's pretty sure most of that is some combination of equal parts spitefulness and incompetence - and he's not sure which annoys him more. Still, he's actually kind of glad when guards finally roll up on his cell to tell him it's time to go do some fucking paperwork. He even mostly cooperates with getting chained and strapped into that stupid upright gurney thing.
He puts a little effort into smalltalk while the guards wheel him around like old luggage. They don't take too well to it. Harv spends the rest of the trip in grudging silence. If he pushes it, he may just get smacked around and shoved back into administrative segregation. And then he'll have to wait several more months before he gets the chance to do this shit again.
The procedures to get him into the interview are as long and as arduous as ever; Harvey puts up with them fairly patiently.
He hesitates as he's shuffled into the interview room, flanked by armed guards. Whatever helper he's stuck with is already in there and waiting. A woman. A tiny, redhaired woman.
...Wait. Wait. That's Crane's secretary. It's gotta be.
Harv gets some sharp encouragement by way of billy club jabbed into his back. He grunts, stumbles forward, and whirls to give the asshole guard a sharp glare. He'll regret that, sometime. For now, Harv settles in to his seat across from the secretary. One of the guards swiftly locks him securely in place.
"Mornin'," Harv growls, twisting the cuffs on his wrists until they're slightly more tolerable. They'll never be comfortable, but what in this hell-hole is?
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timeasmymeasure
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Date: 2017-08-03 08:07 am (UTC)He puts a little effort into smalltalk while the guards wheel him around like old luggage. They don't take too well to it. Harv spends the rest of the trip in grudging silence. If he pushes it, he may just get smacked around and shoved back into administrative segregation. And then he'll have to wait several more months before he gets the chance to do this shit again.
The procedures to get him into the interview are as long and as arduous as ever; Harvey puts up with them fairly patiently.
He hesitates as he's shuffled into the interview room, flanked by armed guards. Whatever helper he's stuck with is already in there and waiting. A woman. A tiny, redhaired woman.
...Wait. Wait. That's Crane's secretary. It's gotta be.
Harv gets some sharp encouragement by way of billy club jabbed into his back. He grunts, stumbles forward, and whirls to give the asshole guard a sharp glare. He'll regret that, sometime. For now, Harv settles in to his seat across from the secretary. One of the guards swiftly locks him securely in place.
"Mornin'," Harv growls, twisting the cuffs on his wrists until they're slightly more tolerable. They'll never be comfortable, but what in this hell-hole is?
Crane failed to mention the secretary is pretty.