"I have work in an hour and this is my jogging time I'm losing so I'm a little annoyed." What was Barty doing? He knew that Barty liked him, for some fucked up reason, but they couldn't do this. Talk like this. Be friends or whatever the fuck he wanted. Well, he knew what he wanted. He wanted a lover. And Sam had fought his way out of that, why the fuck would he go back? Why was he even here?

"How are you, Bartemius?" It was funny sometimes to full name him. He knew he didn't like it. But there, pointless small talk. That's what he wanted apparently.