Thread Roulette: Gift

[Event !]

Return of the special brownies.

[Dr. Sean Neville]

Truly, Sean enjoyed working at Hammel; if he didn’t, he wouldn’t have continued his employment for over two decades. He would have quit, or retired since he had the time put into his pension, and then opened up private practice. He might have moved back to New York to accomplish that goal, or he would have stayed in Pilot Ridge and had no competition for the adult therapy market share. But he liked his job, and he had no reason to leave, unless he became too old to work, or somehow the working conditions became intolerable, or the school mission statement changed. Even with last year’s surprise developments at graduation, he doubted the occurrence of either of the two latter developments.

As much as he liked his job, there were times when he needed to rest. Sessions could be mentally taxing, and his general lifestyle and sleeping habits didn’t always lend themselves to being particularly well-rested. Fortunately, the staff lounge provided the perfect sanctuary.

He had a two-hour lull between sessions this afternoon, and after decided that he needed a change of scenery, he left his office. Entering the staff lounge, he made an immediate beeline for the coffee pot; he found it mostly full, and, after a taste test, was delighted to find that it was fresh. He stirred in two sugar packets and a bit of milk from the bottle, and then he settled down on one of the sofas.

On the table was a plate with plastic wrap on it. There was a note in Sam’s handwriting that said the contents of the plate were a present. Pulling back the plastic, he saw that the plate contained brownies.

That was a delightful surprise.

[Esme Bakus]

Esme didn’t do a whole lot of relaxing in the staff lounge. Sure it was there for her and the other researchers, but the research complex was sort of far away and Esme didn’t often find the time to wander up. Today though, had been particularly rough, and Esme had opted to take an extended break. She actually thought she might be sick from the day’s work in the tank. She hadn’t meant to push so hard, she’d just gotten carried away.

Now, jittery and vaguely upset, she sat on the couches in the staff lounge.
At least when she’d first showed up about twenty minutes prior, there had been brownies on the table. She didn’t know who Same was, but Esme had simply assumed they were for everyone. They’d tasted a little funny, but…

“Oh! They’re really good.” Esme explained cordially to Sean, who she only knew peripherally.
“I…” She suddenly looked concerned. “I hope they weren’t specifically for someone. It just occurred to me that maybe they weren’t for everyone.”

[Dr. Sean Neville]

“You had some then?” Sean asked, turning to look at Esme when she spoke up. He knew all of the faculty at Hammel, although he spent very little time with most of the researches, as they were more isolated than some of the other departments. The question wasn’t accusatory; he simply wanted to hear another person’s assessment of the finished product, given that Sam had baked them.

He liked Sam, but the boy had difficulty with follow-through, and baking was a science.

“I’m sure they weren’t for anyone in particular.” Which was to say, Sean was fairly sure that Sam had made them for him, after all of the debacles that landed the fire-manipulator in his office, or more recently, on his doorstep. Since his default was to put all baked goods that he didn’t eat himself in the staff lounge to share, it worked out the same. Besides, Sam hadn’t specifically said that they were for anyone in particular.

“If they’re good, I’ll have to try one.” The psychiatrist took a sip of his coffee and then set it down on the table. He reached for the platter of brownies, plucked one off the top of the pile, and then took a bite.

They were rich in chocolate, which was always nice. But after two bites, he realized that they had a bit of an aftertaste.

A familiar aftertaste.

[Esme Bakus]

Esme nodded enthusiastically and adjusted her tiny frame against the couch cushions so she could tuck her feet against her backside. “Sure did. “ She affirmed, her toes wriggling in her black pumps. “And I’m glad I wasn’t poaching, I’d hate to cause any office drama.” She chuckled nervously

Office drama was a sincere fear of hers; she just wanted things to go smoothly.

“Do you like them?” Esme asked after Sean had finished chewing. Anything to keep the conversation going.

[Dr. Sean Neville]

“Considering what we have to deal with on a daily basis, it’s very difficult to cause office drama.” Sean smiled at her; the joke, which was truer than it should have been, was intended to reassure her.

The aftertaste was familiar, and Sean paused, reflecting on what he thought it was. He took a sip of coffee to cleanse his pallet back to a more “default” albeit “sweetened” taste, while running his along the roof of his mouth (his mouth was closed, as he tries not to be rude), still thinking.

It couldn’t possibly be what he thought it was. This was a school – that hadn’t been enough for last time – and a student had baked them.

But that student was Sam.

The telepath took another bite of the brownie, although a smaller one than the last. He wanted to be absolutely sure of this, and while the bite itself tasted only of chocolate, there remained the familiar aftertaste.

It had been twenty-plus years (it should have been thirty-plus) since he’d last tasted this, but he was fairly sure this was what he thought it was.

Taking another sip of coffee and setting the brownie down, he said, “They’re very rich.” That was a true statement. He then tilted his head slightly, inquiring. “How many did you have?”