O'Brien's brows went up quickly when Archer grabbed his arm and pulled him to a stop to say what he had to. When his eyes met up with his partner's again, brows furrowed as he listened to his instructions to 'not let the history of the place' inside his head. O'Brien wasn't joking, actually...
Giving a bit of a hesitant shake of his head, O'Brien gave another look past the Captain, around, and then back, "It was just a theory, Cap..." O'Brien searched the expression on Archer's face-- that look-- juuust enough to maybe, maybe catch the unspoken message. "I just.. well.. yeah." He cleared his throat and gave a more firm nod, "yes." Alright. He would do his best not to let it get to his head. But really. To O'Brien, it made sense for someone to try and use the haunted tales to cover up something. There were all sorts of movies, tv shows, books, and cases about it already. Surely Archer wasn't ruling it out.
O'Brien's eyes followed Archer's gaze when he finally looked away and let go of his arm.
315.
A hand was brought up to rub at his jaw before he dropped it back down to smooth over his tie with a bit of a shrug when Archer told him not to mention Scooby-Doo. He kept his focus on Archer as he too leaned in closer toward the door to listen.
After the Captain finished announcing their arrival to the British accent on the other side of the door, O'Brien leaned in closer to Archer to whisper and make his case, "Scooby-Doo's confidential." Fact. He didn't go around throwing out silly theories to just anyone. Mostly just Archer.
Blue eyes had dropped downward while they waited for King George to open the door. O'Brien had busied himself with kicking a bit at a wrinkle in the older carpet until he heard the latch on the door. Straightening up, O'Brien gave a quick look toward Archer and then to the hint of a face that he could barely make out in just the six inches between the door and it's frame.
The accent. The accent was making him want to try talking with it too. It was going to be difficult to refrain. 'I say! What ho, and all of that jolly good rot!' Okay, really. If he didn't stop letting his mind wander, either King George, Archer, or the both of them were going to catch him smirking like an idiot.
Oh! Badge! Right. Digging it back out of the inside pocket of his coat, O'Brien held it up over Archer's shoulder for King George to see, accompanied with a polite yet stern, "Sir, may we come in?"