Of Tea and Context

a Ghost Hunt drabble

Noll fell into the plush client chair as if weighed down by leaden anchor, mug swinging by the handle in his loose grip.

"Tell me" — Martin spared a glance at his son — "you brought coffee." The Research Administrative Supervisor was at least a binder deep into his notes on the Thoreau case and would very much have liked a fresh cup of coffee — if his work would ever allow him such a reprieve.

Noll frowned. "I require a new office."

Martin sighed; he knew it was a long shot. He would also be a liar if he said he wasn't expecting this visit. Frankly, he was surprised Noll made it through the week without complaining about it.

"I require a vacation," Martin said, leaning back in his chair and feeling the bones in his neck pop. "We don't always get what we want, Noll."

Noll adjusted himself in the chair, changing tact. "Why is Madoka's office in Pratt Laboratory?"

Martin eyed the empty mug still hanging loosely in his son's grip. "Because she is a field specialist."

"So am I—"

"Let me rephrase," Martin interrupted. "Madoka is active in the field."

The skin around Noll's eyes tightened and Martin knew he hit a nerve. He braced for the storm.

"How do you expect me to be active in the field if you never give me any cases!" Noll was on his feet now, pacing. "I've been back for weeks and I'm still answering emails and filing paperwork. I'm not an intern!"

"You might as well be," Martin said. "You've been... away... for two years, Noll. Things have changed. Policies have changed. You can't expect to just jump back into—"

"I never stopped."

Their voices echoed for a moment before the office fell silent once again. Martin scanned his son's face, unsure if it was anger or grief he found in the pinch between his eyebrows. It was true. Japan had been less of a bereavement period (as it had more or less been expected to be) and more of a business trip. Martin himself just finished filing incident reports for the last case where his son had thought it apt to one-v-one a god.

He shook his head. "Things changed in the time you were gone, Noll. Until you're back up to speed you will not be on any cases. And you are not moving into Pratt Laboratory. There isn't any room left if I wanted to."

"I—" Noll readjusted his grip on the mug, forlorn. After a moment, he sighed. "Fine."

"Fine?"

"I'll stay in the north wing—"

"That's the spirit."

—until such time that I become an active field member."

Martin rolled his eyes. They would cross that bridge when they came to it. At the moment there was a more pressing matter. "You know you could always just get an electric kettle. Bring the one from the house."

His son paused in the doorway. "...okay."

"Go on then."

Noll nodded, shutting the door with a soft click. Martin had only just returned to his notes when the door swung open again. "You did this on purpose."

He grinned up at Noll. "Did what?"

Noll only glared.

"I figured this might be about the trips to the break room."

"Then move me closer."

"No. It's good for you to get up every once and a while. You sit in that chair any longer, you'll become one."

Noll made a noise of indignation and swung the door shut behind him.

"Hey!" Martin called through the glass as Noll stomped toward the break room. "Grab me some coffee while you're in there!"