#because doc here with just some quiet/secret ties to people who really wanna see biff go down

[doctorbrown]

This office is just as gaudy as everything else Tannen’s touch has twisted and perverted over the last couple decades. The clashing prints make even his eyes hurt and Emmett fights the urge to cringe at the portrait at his back, looming over them. One is bad enough. Seeing two, even if the second is only a painting, ties his stomach into knots.

To his credit, though the situation sets his heart to racing and causes the hair on the back of his neck to stand on-end, Emmett stands tall, keeping his eyes locked on his. Biff Tannen may be strong, corrupt, and more powerful than he should have ever been allowed to become, but with Einie run off, hopefully somewhere safe—finding him will be a priority once he’s free of this nightmare—he has nothing to lose. He can snarl, growl, and bare his fangs all he wants, toss his weight around like it’s nothing, but Emmett won’t cower.

Even this attempt to unsettle him with this behaviour falls short of the mark. All he does is start spewing nonsense again, barking something about how he should be some kind of all-knowing future-seer and throwing volley after volley of questions at him.

He’s asking about some book. He doesn’t know anything about what I’ve been up to.

A deep crease forms on his forehead as he knits his brows together. “What old man? When? Playing stupid implies I know anything about this, which I don’t, Tannen. I can’t give you an answer I don’t have and it doesn’t matter how many times you keep asking me these questions or try to intimidate me!”

As he slides the almanac closer, that pensive expression gives way to almost immediate surprise. Realisation smacks him in the face as he snatches it off the table and reads the cold, damning title with wide eyes. Sports statistics for the latter half of the Twentieth Century…

Great Scott… Such a thing should have been impossible—his Time Machine was still woefully inadequate: underpowered, underperforming, a far cry from its intended potential under better circumstances—but he doubts even Tannen has the capability or the forethought to fake something like this.

So...

Emmett very nearly groans as they come full-circle. “I don’t know where you can get another book like this, considering this is the first time I’ve ever seen it! What do you even want another one of these for? If this is how you made your fortune”—which he’s damn sure it is, answering a lot of questions that have been there in the back of his mind for a long time—“you have information up to the turn of the century. In case you’ve forgotten your basic maths, that’s over fifteen years from now.”

"You can keep asking me these questions, but I'm not going to know the answers!" (pick a timeline any timeline!)

Biff crosses his arms, glaring directly into the other man's eyes. It's funny— he's used to looking down at people, but the Doc is pretty much level with him. Kinda fucks up his usual intimidation tactic, but whatever. There's always another way to scare someone, he just hasn't figured out the best strategy yet.

So he relaxes his shoulders, picks at a nail. Like they're old pals sharing a beer and the boys aren't standing guard right outside the office. "Thing is, I know you know the answers, 'cause that old man told me to watch out for you. Playing stupid ain't gonna help you here."

Fingers resting lightly on the plastic cover, he slides the Almanac to the other side of his desk. With an equally plastic smile, he says, "Now, tell me where I can get my hands on more books like this. I'm done asking nicely."