Frank hustles far less, taking his time glancing around and making sure no one but Matt is around to see him slipping into the office a minute or two later.

It's. Definitely not what Frank imagined.

He picks up the lid of the prehistoric looking scanner, staring into the bed of it dubiously as it cranks to life slowly. Shit is so outdated it would be at home in a Naval outpost somewhere.

"You weren't kidding about needing a new office," he says, letting it flop back into place. (He swears a dust cloud billows up when it does. What the heck, Matt.)