Appreciation: A TGSC Short

Headquarters
Tokyo, Japan
August 2015

Mack had an eye for the living.

It came with the job, in all honesty. Being a forensic scientist didn’t just mean staring down a microscope and counting all the itty-bitty wrong things then reporting that to the squad who was asking for it. Contrary to that, it actually meant having a keen eye and knowing how things ticked – how living organisms tended to tick. He could position himself inside a coffee shop and pick out an ordinary person, then take them apart in his head bit by bit. It was a fun game he played when bored, but he never quite told others about it because it was bordering on the creepy side of the spectrum.

That certain game of his, however, assisted him when he needed it. Mack was sometimes roped into interrogations, and he’d be there to watch under the guise of an intern taking notes. However, he’d actually be there to analyze the person interrogated. On one paper, he’d take notes of the actual interrogation. On another, he’d note the verbal and bodily cues that would give them away.

This was how he was able to observe that the older man needed a pick up.

It started with A.

“T’s a little off,” she admitted to him. Mack blinked slowly and pocketed his change without counting, taking a sip from the chai latte he had bought much after. “He isn’t as cheerful as he usually is. Do you think something happened?”

“If someone rejected his date offer, he’d be acting differently,” Mack replied. A frowned and sat at one of the booths, the wild-haired man sitting right across her. “He’d be dropping relatable quotes that would hit a thousand retweets on Twitter. But he really isn’t. So it has to be something else.”

“Mm.” the black-haired lady sighed and took a small bite from the pastry she had bought, “I hope it’s nothing too serious. He’s been working himself hard this past week, really. He needs a break.”

“Why’d you say so?”

“He just seems more tired than usual.” A checked her phone, “A little more hassled than he usually is. Peters is trying to convince him to take a break, but…you know him. He exhausts himself.”

“Sort of like you.”

A threw him a look. “Don’t get smart with me, Thomas.”

* * * * *

He spent the rest of the day in HQ, observing and trying to collect facts. In a way, he was able to become a sleuth as well.

“Horrible night of sleep last night, T?”

“Huh?” Touta rubbed his eyes and faced Mack, “Sorry, what did you say?”

“Just asked if you didn’t have a good sleep. Seems like it,” the man replied. Touta chuckled and rubbed his eyes yet again, nodding his head slowly.

“Yeah. Not exactly the best, but I’ll live,” he assured. Nodding, Mack eventually left but caught him leaning his head on his palm for a few seconds, eyes closed.

Those few tics alone was enough for him to conclude that the other was indeed, tired and in need of something to pull up the other’s energy (and mood).

He found himself back in the café, ordering the largest coffee they served. Pocketing his change once more, he glanced at the paper cup and asked for a fine-tip marker, thanking the barista and scribbling something on the side upon receiving it.

Upon getting back to the office and reaching Touta’s workstation, he hastily glanced around before putting the hot coffee in the middle of the table and walked away as casually as he could.

* * * * *

Someone had been leaving him coffee.

Not that Touta didn’t like it – to most people in HQ (including him), coffee was life. Some people (like Mack) preferred running on tea, but on the worse days the office would start to smell of different blends of caffeine and trash cans would be filled with plastic and paper cups. To ensure environmental friendliness, a good amount of people brought their own tumblers. A few kind souls set up a coffee box in the middle for anyone who needed an extra packet or two.

However, this time around, someone chose to leave him a large cup of coffee. That, admittedly, made him feel better immediately upon seeing it – it had been a rough night for him when it came to catching up with reports.

It wasn’t that he was worried, either – if anything, he was worried for the person’s paycheck. It wasn’t like someone would attempt to murder by slipping something horrible in their drink; not only was there a forensic lab near, but the whole building was filled with experienced and blooming police agents.

All in all, he wanted to find out who the mystery giver was.

Touta asked around – he asked the squad primarily, and apparently none of them knew who was giving it. A shrugged and glumly wished someone was giving her coffee, Peters had no clue, and Mack had wrinkled his nose.

“Didn’t it go it?”

Touta shook his head. “Amazingly enough, it’s still hot. A miracle.” Mack nodded and turned back to his tablet, briefly scanning through the available photos. Touta sighed inwardly.

For the rest of the week, he had no clue who the mystery giver was.

* * * * *

It was a Friday morning and Touta, in all honesty, was exhausted.

He had to stay late with the rest of the squad the previous night – something had happened and they were to file reports and investigate as much as they could. It reached one in the morning and all of them had gone home with sleepy faces and half-lidded eyes.

At seven in the morning, he forced himself to get up and move. If he finished early, it was probable that he’d be able to clock out earlier than usual.

It was that small, extra push which led him to discover the coffee culprit (as he ended up calling whoever it was).

He entered the building with a yawn and flashed his ID at the guard, who let him in with a nod and pat on the back. The Japanese stumbled through the premises, yawning and rubbing his eyes continuously until he reached his station –

Touta nearly dropped his files in surprise.

“You?”

Mack jumped, nearly spilling the coffee onto the desk. “Fuck,” he cursed, “Shit. Shit. Shiiiiit.”

“You were giving the coffees!”

“Quite obvious right now, isn’t it?” the other laughed. “But yeah. I’ve been giving it.”

“Why? You didn’t have to do that,” Touta asked, to which the other gave a nonchalant shrug. Mack awkwardly handed the cup of coffee, to which Touta accepted.

“Just wanted to after A told me she was worried. She was worried about you and not getting enough rest,” Mack explained slowly. He blinked the sleepiness out of his eyes, “And I thought I was, too. Well.” He shifted slightly and Touta took note of the paper bag in his right hand, “I got coffee for A and Peters, too. After what happened last night. I thought we needed it.”

“You didn’t–”

“I wanted to,” Mack repeated firmly. He eventually gave a tiny smile of his own as well, “Show my appreciation for you guys.” Touta was about to say something when Mack took a step back, most likely going to drop off the other two coffees before A and Peters arrived. “A teeny, tiny favor in exchange, though.”

“What is it?”

“Don’t tell them when they come in,” the Englishman said simply. “I want them to feel the appreciation, too.”