2/2
The guard is giving a standard drone about her staying away from the door as metal clanks against metal when he goes to unlock the door for Archer, but the chief is busy assessing her and her surroundings as he steps forward. He gives an automatic nod of agreement that he'll call when he wants to leave or if there's a problem, that he'll leave if there's a need of it, if he understands procedure if the DOJ goes into lockdown. Archer refrains from pointing out that half of this was supposed to be asked in private, wonders if this is supposed to be for Adelaide's benefit. If so, it will be lost on her. She doesn't care. It won't impress her. They are so far off the mark for intimidation if that's the aim, considering they're letting him in with a stew he's cooked and items off a list she's given. Archer decides, in the portion of his brain that he's sectioned off for reasoning this out, that the guard doesn't mean anything by it. Not really. Adelaide isn't someone anyone expected to be in here. What matters is that protocol was followed. Archer's gut is telling him that protocol won't matter a good goddamn in the long run.
The chief steps into the cell and the look in his eyes say that he is perfectly capable of ignoring the fact that the door locks behind him again. He's just as capable of ignoring the fact that they will most certainly be watched. His head doesn't move but Archer's eyes flick up, to the left corner, to the right. Watched and heard, and not only by the guards, if he has any guess about it. So a smile doesn't so much as make a twitch on his face, but, like Bran, Ads has always been better than just about everyone else out there about catching his microexpressions anyhow. And if he thought she was good at it before he became chief, she damn near got telepathic as soon as he put the badge on. Archer just knows she can see the warmth in his eyes that isn't completely in his expression when he greets her. "'Lo, Ads. Got your list." His voice is even-toned, even a little dry. Rueful. Anyone watching would see the chief of police visiting one of his best friends in prison and feeling pretty damn awkward about it. Ads could likely see the struggle -- how hard it was, not for him to be here, but for him to see her there -- and she might also see the affection.
"Brought dinner. How's my little buddy?" If there was anywhere he could give vent to his feelings, it would be Charlie. No one is gonna blame a guy for being concerned about a baby in a cell. Jenkins had delivered Adelaide's message, about how seeing his face would do wonders for them, and Archer knew that seeing Ads and Charlie for himself would help him make sure they were okay, too. But damned if he didn't want to give Ads a hug, let her know that this shit was going to be okay. He is being extremely careful and there is the sense, as he looks at her, that he's not just doing so of his usual well-honed instincts. Archer is drawing something from her, some signal, and it is something that surprises him just a little, how he could be so in tune with someone he hasn't been in a combat scenario with. But there it is. Loyalty and caring from Adelaide Hawkins Lansing is something that is something that feels like it was forged in a firefight; Archer Avery has no idea that while his love is far quieter, it runs no less deep; that his loyalty, when earned, is just as fierce.