[ He sighs. Drops the papers on his desk in a mess, brow furrowing. The man has a point, of course, as tends to be his way - but the mere thought of this drivel going anywhere near the grand hall... ]
Let's hope so.
[ He looks around at the stacks, all neatly organised according to subject, author and date. He'd thought about doing them alphabetically, too, but then he realised that he had actual things to do. The mere sight of everything - stacks and stacks, pages upon pages, and what if something's not the way he wants it, what if he's missed something, anything, and someone else will overtake him... He blinks. Looks back at the older man, quirking an eyebrow. ]
[ - so hard, he could say, but doesn't. Straightening up, he fixes the lapels of his jacket and crosses the meter or so stretching out between himself and Jean Louis' desk. He rests a relaxed hand on the edge of the tabletop, fingers drumming an absentminded melody onto the wood. Jean Louis is striving to be the best, not just for his own sake and not just for the party's sake, but for Philippe's sake, personally too and it's endearing to see this young man who has been walking an undeniably harsh path in life land himself in such a favorable position. Not because of Philippe, mind you. Because of himself. His own hard work.
He's a good example. He doesn't need to run errands for his head of party to be a better one. Philippe leans forward enough to place a hand on the other man's shoulder, patting it once, softly. ]
[ ... he's certain the man's about to tell him not to try quite so hard, a fair enough admonishment at this point, seeing as they're getting so close to midnight. There's another day tomorrow. And, though he'd never bore the old man with the specifics, if he doesn't pull back somewhat, he'll end up with a migraine and a day in bed and then, where would Albert be? On the front line, getting himself (and this party, by proxy) torn to pieces, that's where.
Then, Philippe pats his shoulder and talks about rest instead, which is not an admonishment at all. Easy advice to follow, rather. He shrugs, mostly to feel his shoulders click. ]
We're on a good run this time. Don't you think?
[ He pushes his chair back and gets up. Runs a hand through his hair, leaving some of the strands sticking out every which way and looking at Philippe without much of anything except anticipation. In general, there's no easy yes or no in politics; but all the same, they've navigated some tricky waters this time around. Without suffering shipwreck. ]
[ He looks like a young boy with his hair sticking every which way and sometimes it's too easy to forget the man is only 21, he's got a long life and a whole world ahead of him, Philippe can't possibly be too harsh on him, not late at night when they've been manning the decks - and the desks - for the past 48 hours straight. Really now. He wouldn't do it to his own child and he shan't do it to his political equivalent. Get some rest, he'd advised rather than asking for help with his own last preparations of which there are many still. The EU legislators will require thorough reasoning if they're going to grant exceptions. ]
I have it on good authority that they will change the wording of the problematic passages, just enough. Let's see if my gut feeling about this entire affair doesn't turn out to be right.
[ Letting his arm fall to his side, Philippe steps back and gestures towards the door. ]
However, I'm really not leaving until you are, Jean Louis.
[ On good authority, he says. Jean Louis watches him for a long moment, gaze narrowing just a fraction. Philippe's always been generous, at least with regards to him; not many others in the party will be privy to this information, certainly none of Jean Louis' rank. It's nice, being someone's favourite. Useful too, of course, obviously. ]
That's quite a dilemma, old man. Don't you need more sleep than I do?
[ He probably does, seeing as Jean Louis rarely sleeps more than five hours every night, often less. A slight smile. He places Albert's papers in the make it happen tray, the one right beneath for expedition. Tomorrow, then. ]
[ He chuckles. Old man, is that so? Ah, well, compared to Jean Louis, he's close to retirement age. Although, he isn't quite ready for that part of his life to start just yet. There are still too many laws to make and a country to run. They aren't ready for him to pull out at this stage, but give Jean Louis another ten years like this... He might still be young, but he'll be fully capable. ]
I've put my lawyers to work to find precedence for this exception we're trying for, but they've gone home for the day, of course. However, we could hunt down similar cases ourselves, relieve the poor men of duty, yes, my boy?
[ The library is on the first floor, a flight of steps from here. It will be one more thing he gives Jean Louis that he'd trust no one else with, but Philippe is aware of his bias and he trusts his instincts on this one. The extra attention is an investment, but he's invested before, he's very good at it. Money and people don't behave very differently, one moment they're there, the next they're gone. He knows. So he will savor it as long as he can.
Turning in the doorway, he waits for Jean Louis to catch up. ]
[ He knows what that means - hunting through the old documents in the library, looking for similarities, phrasings or certain juridical practices of old that might just further their cause. It sounds, to put it bluntly, incredibly taxing. He's on a learning curve regarding law documents and legalese and he knows just getting through one document might easily take him the better part of an hour. Better choose carefully, he thinks.
Anyone else calling him boy would have been thrown out of a nearby window, really. Anyone else. ]
Certainly.
[ Leaving his desk behind, he follows the other man. Yet another opportunity, presented and accepted. Some part of him realises that it's a dangerous balance, this game they play; one false step and there'd be a very, very long fall waiting on either of them, though Jean Louis' got no doubt he'd find a way to land on his feet. He always has, after all. It just that... he'd really rather not. Might just, perhaps, be a tiny bit worried about it, about what it would entail. He pushes the thought aside, forcefully.
no subject
Let's hope so.
[ He looks around at the stacks, all neatly organised according to subject, author and date. He'd thought about doing them alphabetically, too, but then he realised that he had actual things to do. The mere sight of everything - stacks and stacks, pages upon pages, and what if something's not the way he wants it, what if he's missed something, anything, and someone else will overtake him... He blinks. Looks back at the older man, quirking an eyebrow. ]
And you? Do you need a hand?
[ Spoken with a tinge of humour. ]
no subject
[ - so hard, he could say, but doesn't. Straightening up, he fixes the lapels of his jacket and crosses the meter or so stretching out between himself and Jean Louis' desk. He rests a relaxed hand on the edge of the tabletop, fingers drumming an absentminded melody onto the wood. Jean Louis is striving to be the best, not just for his own sake and not just for the party's sake, but for Philippe's sake, personally too and it's endearing to see this young man who has been walking an undeniably harsh path in life land himself in such a favorable position. Not because of Philippe, mind you. Because of himself. His own hard work.
He's a good example. He doesn't need to run errands for his head of party to be a better one. Philippe leans forward enough to place a hand on the other man's shoulder, patting it once, softly. ]
- just do. Go home, get some rest.
no subject
Then, Philippe pats his shoulder and talks about rest instead, which is not an admonishment at all. Easy advice to follow, rather. He shrugs, mostly to feel his shoulders click. ]
We're on a good run this time. Don't you think?
[ He pushes his chair back and gets up. Runs a hand through his hair, leaving some of the strands sticking out every which way and looking at Philippe without much of anything except anticipation. In general, there's no easy yes or no in politics; but all the same, they've navigated some tricky waters this time around. Without suffering shipwreck. ]
no subject
I have it on good authority that they will change the wording of the problematic passages, just enough. Let's see if my gut feeling about this entire affair doesn't turn out to be right.
[ Letting his arm fall to his side, Philippe steps back and gestures towards the door. ]
However, I'm really not leaving until you are, Jean Louis.
no subject
That's quite a dilemma, old man. Don't you need more sleep than I do?
[ He probably does, seeing as Jean Louis rarely sleeps more than five hours every night, often less. A slight smile. He places Albert's papers in the make it happen tray, the one right beneath for expedition. Tomorrow, then. ]
Come now. Two minds work faster than one.
no subject
I've put my lawyers to work to find precedence for this exception we're trying for, but they've gone home for the day, of course. However, we could hunt down similar cases ourselves, relieve the poor men of duty, yes, my boy?
[ The library is on the first floor, a flight of steps from here. It will be one more thing he gives Jean Louis that he'd trust no one else with, but Philippe is aware of his bias and he trusts his instincts on this one. The extra attention is an investment, but he's invested before, he's very good at it. Money and people don't behave very differently, one moment they're there, the next they're gone. He knows. So he will savor it as long as he can.
Turning in the doorway, he waits for Jean Louis to catch up. ]
no subject
Anyone else calling him boy would have been thrown out of a nearby window, really. Anyone else. ]
Certainly.
[ Leaving his desk behind, he follows the other man. Yet another opportunity, presented and accepted. Some part of him realises that it's a dangerous balance, this game they play; one false step and there'd be a very, very long fall waiting on either of them, though Jean Louis' got no doubt he'd find a way to land on his feet. He always has, after all. It just that... he'd really rather not. Might just, perhaps, be a tiny bit worried about it, about what it would entail. He pushes the thought aside, forcefully.
After all, what's more dangerous than that? ]