[ Rafe hears the rumors too, in spite of the crew knowing better than to deal in anything but the business at hand when he's around. Not that he can blame them for talking. Not only is there nothing else to talk about in the middle of the highlands, it is painfully obvious that his consultant isn't all there. Hasn't been since they got off the plane.
But Rafe understands the nature of a long term investment. He also understands when the short supply of experts on 17th century pirate meets his high demand for finding the Gunsway treasure, you take what you can get. Whenever the stagnation starts to gall, he reminds himself people have been searching for this three hundred years already — putting him well ahead of the curve. So he hasn't pushed yet, just presents what needs doing and nudged Nate forward a step or two to get going with it. Idle hands and all, right?
Standing beside his desk, he's sorting through the day's photographs. Cursory polaroids, more detailed negatives developed on site, documenting every inch before the crew start gridding off a new area. Nate's appearance earns a wry appraisal, eyebrow arching before Rafe's lazy smile makes an appearance. He scoffs good-naturedly, flicks the picture in his hand to skim across the others. ]
Nate, come on. Do partners call each other sir? [ He doesn't bother asking what happened — of course he'd heard about it. The belayer in question will spend the next several days inspecting every cable in camp for any other weaknesses. Not everybody on the end of a snapped line is Nathan Drake, and if he'd lost that asset after the time he's already paid in? One brother's already bitten the dust. Rafe can't afford losing the other. ] You seen the medic yet?
[ Rhetorical twice over. He knows what goes on at his site, and after these weeks here he knows Nate. Or at least the Nate that's been stumbling around in a daze.
Which is why those small changes are immediately noticed. His focus sharpens, the shift to calculation hardly noticeable behind lidded eyes. ]
no subject
But Rafe understands the nature of a long term investment. He also understands when the short supply of experts on 17th century pirate meets his high demand for finding the Gunsway treasure, you take what you can get. Whenever the stagnation starts to gall, he reminds himself people have been searching for this three hundred years already — putting him well ahead of the curve. So he hasn't pushed yet, just presents what needs doing and nudged Nate forward a step or two to get going with it. Idle hands and all, right?
Standing beside his desk, he's sorting through the day's photographs. Cursory polaroids, more detailed negatives developed on site, documenting every inch before the crew start gridding off a new area. Nate's appearance earns a wry appraisal, eyebrow arching before Rafe's lazy smile makes an appearance. He scoffs good-naturedly, flicks the picture in his hand to skim across the others. ]
Nate, come on. Do partners call each other sir? [ He doesn't bother asking what happened — of course he'd heard about it. The belayer in question will spend the next several days inspecting every cable in camp for any other weaknesses. Not everybody on the end of a snapped line is Nathan Drake, and if he'd lost that asset after the time he's already paid in? One brother's already bitten the dust. Rafe can't afford losing the other. ] You seen the medic yet?
[ Rhetorical twice over. He knows what goes on at his site, and after these weeks here he knows Nate. Or at least the Nate that's been stumbling around in a daze.
Which is why those small changes are immediately noticed. His focus sharpens, the shift to calculation hardly noticeable behind lidded eyes. ]