Who Wouldn't Want Coffee? (Sean)

[Miles Degrasse Jones]

    Miles had missed his coffee that morning, and his last lesson had left him with a pounding headache. Naturally, his planning period seemed like a convenient time to catch up on his caffeine intake. After sipping from the piping hot black drink, Miles turned and strode over to the table in the middle of the room.     

    The chair was uncomfortable.

    Miles took another sip and checked his watch.  He still had forty-three minutes to sit here and appreciate solitary before his next class.  

    He knew from the beginning that he'd enjoy Hammel.  That's why he had left England so eagerly.  Still, it hadn't quite dawned on him that he would love it as much as he did.  For the first time in his life, he felt like he mattered.  Without people telling him he had to do this and that.  Without Connor.  For the first time, at Hammel, Miles felt independent.  He felt true strength in himself.  That scared him.

    Of course, he also felt headaches.  And stress.  Think of it as joy, more than happiness.  He liked the coffee for sure.

    He checked his watch again.  Still fourty-three minutes.  Was time frozen or something?  Guess my headache's worse than I thought.

[Dr. Sean Neville]

Sean considered coffee one of his closest, non-human friends. Coffee, baked goods, Excedrin, and alcohol. Not necessarily in that order, and with the last one far less frequently than even two years ago. Nobody could fairly accuse him of failing to stick to a plan when made in good faith. Particularly when it meant that he was responsible for two people instead of himself, when one of those people was his partner. That little bit of martyr complex that he’d never worked on or discussed with anyone but Robert had its perks insofar as keeping him focused on long-term goals.

Today, he needed coffee. He had baked goods – far too many to eat himself so he wanted to drop those off for the other faculty. He hoped not to need Excedrin, and the coffee might work as a prophylactic for that goal. He couldn’t think about alcohol at this hour of the day.

The telepath entered the staff lounge, finding it to have only one other occupant. Rather than heading directly for the coffee pot, he went over to the snack table to set down the platter of sea-salt caramel brownies that his partner had baked the night before. Even with the lifestyle changes, Josh had kept up with his lessons and his homework assignments.

This brought him close to the other occupant, and he nodded in greeting. “Good morning.”

[Miles Degrasse Jones]

    Miles smiled politely and nodded at the newcomer. "Morning."  He was a little anxious-having never met this man but also desperately wanting a brownie, Miles was lost.  He figured he ought to make introductions before he started asking to bum for some food.  Of course, the brownies may be intended for someone else specifically.  Boy, that would be disappointing.  Anyways, Miles stood.

    "I don't believe we've met!"  He smiled politely as he extended his hand towards the man.  "Miles Jones, nice to meet you.  I'm the new Powers Trainer." 

[Dr. Sean Neville]

Sean shifted the platter to one hand and used his other to take Miles’s in a firm – although not overbearing – handshake. “Sean Neville. I’m the staff psychiatrist, and the pleasure is all mine.” He pumped twice before releasing the other man’s hand.

He had overheard the trainer’s interest in the baked goods, which, in Sean’s book, meant that he would fit in fine. The telepath had never turned down an offered baked good in his life, and he considered them a quick and easy method of bonding. Holding the platter aloft, he asked, “Would you like one? My partner made them last night, and there are too many for me to eat on my own.”

That was a half-truth. Left to his own devices and an entire day, Sean could polish off the entire platter. However, he didn’t have to. He didn’t want to, sweet tooth aside. He preferred to share with the rest of the staff.

And then, he added, “Welcome to Hammel? Have you had the official tour yet?”

They should have gone over that in the trainer training orientation. Given that Miles was here in the staff lounge, Sean assumed that he had, but one could never be too sure. Particularly with people who weren’t alumni themselves.

[Miles Degrasse Jones]

    Miles smiled and nodded. "I would love one, thank you!" He reached over to the nearby counter, grabbed a napkin, and plucked a brownie from the tray. He held it in his hand with the napkin and ripped off a corner. It smelled and looked delicious. As he popped it in his mouth, he discovered it tasted delicious, too!

    "Ah yes, they showed me around.  It is a very nice facility."  Miles smiled politely. "Your partner is a wonderful cook by the way, my compliments." Miles turned and sat back down at the table, nibbling at his brownie and sipping his coffee.   

    "So, a psychologist!" Miles spoke in between mouthfuls. "I've a friend who can't help but psychoanalyze every little detail of any given situation, but I've never met someone certified to do so."  

    Miles spoke over his shoulder, glancing back at the psychologist.  Miles wanted to ask if he was a metahuman, but he figured it would seem too invasive.  The last thing he wanted was to go around offending everyone.  

    Still, he didn't exactly cherish the idea of an awkward silence, so he forced himself to come up with something to say.  "Must be an interesting job, delving into the minds of so many metahumans.  Non-powered teenagers are complicated enough."  He smirked despite himself.

[Dr. Sean Neville]

“Have as many as you’d like,” Sean told him, as he held the platter out so that the other man could more easily reach. He had more than enough to share, and he also had the benefit of a steady supply of baked goods, since Josh kept up with his baking homework most nights. Not that Sean was incapable of baking or that Pilot Ridge wanted for bakeries.

The telepath smiled and nodded. “He only bakes, but he learned from one of the best. He never believes me when I compliment him, so I’ll be sure to pass that on to him. Maybe he’ll listen to you.” Josh had the remarkable ability to dismiss his opinions as flattery while simultaneously expecting him to harbor some secret disapproval. That dynamic only existed between them, and his partner tended to accept compliments from outside sources. It was something that Sean hoped to work on with him before the end of the decade.

Sean then shook his head. “A psychiatrist, actually. The difference doesn’t matter much to the world at large, but they were four years of medical school nonetheless.” He continued to hold the platter out, in case Miles wanted another bar. “It lets me prescribe medications and do the talk therapy, which is the best of both worlds.” At least it was the best of both worlds to him. Psychologists might disagree.

He clicked his tongue and nodded slowly. “That’s one way to put it. I can promise that there’s rarely a dull moment, for better or for worse.” Better over all, fortunately, or else the building would have fallen down long ago.

Then, to answer the unspoken question, he added, “And I am meta. Most of the staff members are, although not everyone.”