AN: Coming back to this. I should be clear here that my other pen name on this site is A Quarter Past (you can check both profiles for confirmation of this). This is important information, as you can begin reading this collection of oneshots as being in the same universe as the story "Contagion Effect" posted under my other account. Cheers.

[Five]

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"Drink?"

The question hung there for a moment in the open doorway of Natalie's lab. It was unexpected, given the time of evening (three hours after most had gone home), and so she didn't immediately know how to respond. This uncertainty was compounded by who the voice belonged to — i.e., Kate (i.e., someone who Natalie didn't normally have a drink with).

After a long pause, in which she tried to make up her mind but couldn't, Natalie straightened in her chair and graced her boss's boss with a questioning look, "Excuse me?"

"It's eight o'clock. We're both still here. Someone left a bottle of cheap champagne in the conference room...which I have confiscated," Kate gently shook the bottle in question.

They got along well enough now that Natalie couldn't turn down a friendly drink, and to be quite honest, she could use something with more than ten percent alcohol. The team's thirty day leave was slated to expire at the end of the week, and it was Wednesday. While she was looking forward to seeing everyone again, she couldn't deny that Colima still trailed behind her like a lead ball on a chain. Seeing them again, and hearing about how they spent their leave, were only going to add weight to that feeling.

"Sure, pull up a seat. I've got some clean beakers lying around somewhere," Natalie turned off her computer monitor before searching for the glassware in question.

Kate laughed, something that was becoming a more common installation in Natalie's life, "I haven't had a drink out of a beaker since medical school."

"Keeps me young," Natalie smiled, deciding silently that choosing the 100 mL beaker was just asking for a sizable hangover in the morning; "50 mL it is."

"Good enough for me," Kate popped the cork into a rag with little ceremony and poured. When she finished, both took a seat and clinked their glasses together, careful not to slosh any of their contents onto the lab table.

Another few moments passed before Kate spoke, "I thought you were supposed to be on leave."

Natalie twisted her lips, "It's a little late to be noticing something like that, isn't it?"

Kate shrugged, "Humor me."

"Found a loophole through one of the trials," Natalie contemplated whether or not to consume her drink quickly, and decided on a moderate pace. Kate was an unlikely companion, but not a terrible one.

"I wasn't going to write you up anyway, given that we were paying you either way."

"It's nice to know that I won't be punished for doing my job."

This earned her a raised brow from the director, "Your work is why I'm here, believe it or not."

This time, it was Natalie who laughed, "I should have known."

"I'm going to cut to the chase, so we can focus on the drinking. You may need it."

"That bad?"

"Connor's asked for and has been granted a year long sabbatical. He put in for it Monday. Considering the alternative was his immediate resignation, we obviously decided it was a no brainer to give him what he wanted."

This news, delivered so candidly, hit Natalie like a freight train in the gut. Stephen hadn't contacted her in the month following their return, and had he not made this particular decision, that silence would have made perfect sense. They weren't friendly enough outside of work to swap texts or even phone calls full of small talk about their well-being. But this, this was entirely work related, and she should have heard it from him (however briefly and bluntly that conversation would have gone), not from Kate, not over cheap bubbly in the best beakers that NIH money could buy.

Not familiar or friendly enough with the other woman to share these thoughts, Natalie took another sip as a means to put off the inevitability of speaking. Finally, she managed, "But we're supposed to be cleared for field work Monday."

Kate, clearly a better reader of people than Natalie had always assumed, looked her over with not unkind pity, "You will be, just without him."

Natalie tried again, "Who will be taking point? Another team lead?"

Despite the five or so milliliters remaining in their beakers, Kate poured them each more. She then placed an elbow on the worktable and put in chin in that hand (a more familiar gesture than Natalie knew how to deal with), "We're promoting you on Connor's recommendation — I threw in mine as well, based on your prior work and the Glanders case. It's probationary, one year, to be reevaluated at that point."

Kate paused, then reasserted, "You'll be taking lead, Natalie."

"But I'm just a lab rat…"

"With a high success rate in the field, even without Connor's guidance. You would have shut the case on Colima if that earthquake hadn't brought down their health infrastructure" the ('on top of you' was left unspoken but implied), "This shouldn't be surprising; you've always had upward potential."

Natalie chose to take the compliment in silence. It was true that leaders could still direct other from the lab. Johansson was a lab rat herself, and she was leading team three and had been for nigh a decade. Promoting within the team was also not unheard of, so long as the leadership potential was there. She could lead; she had before, and the others respected her enough to follow without complaint. The only change would be the increase in paperwork and, likely, pay. Neither of these things she could complain about, not while maintaining any self-respect.

"All right," she said, letting the alcohol ease the growing tension in her shoulders, "you're right. It was going to happen one day. No point in denying it. Will there be training?"

"Not in so many words. We'll meet a few times officially. HR will walk you through the pay grade change and through the major policy points again." Kate paused to take a drink and consider her next words, seemingly aware that her company might be a flight risk, "We wouldn't give you the team if you didn't have the skills to lead them and the experience, the rest is just legalities and red tape."

Tapping her fingers against the beaker, Natalie thought of another question, "The Recklinghausen trial?"

"Your involvement will be scaled back, but you'll remain an author on the publications."

That wasn't quite what Natalie had meant, but chose not to make a deal out of pointing that out.

Her, leader of team one? Temporarily, of course, provided that Connor actually returned. It could be fun in a way, putting her skills to the test, challenging herself to grow professionally. Kate was right, it was the natural progression of her career, even if it was coming a year or two earlier than Natalie had expected or prepared for.

Stephen should have told her.

The sudden anger took her by surprise, and she forced it down with a less than heartfelt smile in Kate's direction, "I guess I should thank him?"

"Absolutely not," Kate insisted, "he's driven us to chaos with his last minute demands. He's clearly left you in the dark, and he's behind in paperwork."

But the other woman was smiling, she seemed pleased by this news, despite her words. Natalie wondered, not for the first time, if Kate was beginning to view her as a friend, or as a friendly at the very least. If pressed, she'd supposed that the director wasn't wrong. In a way, they were becoming friends — or, at least, work friends. Who would have thought it possible?

"Well, to Stephen anyway," Natalie half-heartedly lifted her beaker in a toast.

Kate tapped hers against it, "To Stephen anyway."