Work Text:
Abrams ruffled the feathers on top of Rem's head. "Alright, I'm gonna go down the block and get lunch, okay?"
"Okay." Rem was very busy--he was adding his name to blank little index cards. They'd gotten him extra large crayons, being as he could grip them better than small ones. They were his 'bibness' cards. He had instructed his father that if a case was cool, and not scary, to also give clients his card.
"I'm gonna lock the door. Just don't touch anything on my shelf, okay bud?"
"Yep. I got it!" His tail swished, and he adjusted his little fake glasses.
"Alright. Be about ten minutes. And only open up if its somebody you know." Abrams slipped out of his office, and Rem heard the lock click. He wondered what lunch would be today--the sandwich place? He liked sandwiches. He reached for one of the blank papers his dad had left for him to doodle on, trying to imagine the perfect sandwich. Naturally, that meant it had to have everything on it. Turkey, ham, beef, cheese--well, he could skip the lettuce...
A few minutes passed. Geist was coming to visit Abrams, knowing he was at work, and slipped into the building. It wasn't of much importance, more so just looking to chat. She reached the door to his office and peered inside, not seeing Abrams. His large chair was awfully empty, asides...
Two little ears perked up and drew her attention. Rem was messing with things on his desk--she smiled, waved at him. When he noticed her, he waved back with enthusiasm. She tried the knob, found it locked, and fished through her purse for the spare. Once she opened the door, Rem had settled, little paws folded on the desk in front of him.
"Come in, ma'am. Have a seat."
"Thank you, Mr. Detective."
Junior detective was her educated guess based on how Infernus had dressed his and Abrams' son up this morning. And it was adorable, she would admit it. Design elements blended from them both into a cute little blue suit, matching hat, and glasses--both of his papas wore glasses of some sort.
"What can I do ya for, Ms. Lady?"
"Oh, detective," she began, playing along, "I've not a clue what happened to my poor cookie jar today. There were a few left this morning, and now, it's completely empty."
"Ohh. Sounds serious." He started to draw circles with a crayon, and dotted them. Chocolate chip effigies in glow-in-the-dark wax scrawls. "When did that happen, auntie? I mean. Ma'am?"
The corner of Geist's mouth twitched, trying to stay serious as he adjusted his glasses yet again. He was so cute and round and fuzzy and taking this so, so seriously, mimicking his father while he did it. He tapped the crayon on his beak in mirror of how Abrams tapped his chin with his pen.
"Well, I left after breakfast, and came back around lunch."
"Huhhh... was anybody else around the cookies when you were there?"
"Hmmm, maybe my son Johann." A grandson, but... 'son' made things simpler.
"Johann... prime suspect." He scribbled a rough Johann from memory. Admittedly, a stick figure. He had a tiny cookie in his hand, as she interpreted it. "Was he there after you left?"
"Yes, he was home all day long."
"And then you got back... and they were gone."
"Exactly."
"... hmmm..." He narrowed his eyes. "I wonder what the motive would be..."
"He must have just been hungry."
"But you just had breakfast... right?"
Geist nodded, pretending to get nervous. She dabbed her forehead with her handkerchief. "Yes..?"
"So why would he take cookies... if he wasn't hungry..." Rem tapped his claws on the desk. "Did he eat breakfast?"
"Oh, no, Johann is allergic to chocolate, and my dear chef prepared chocolate chip pancakes." The hint had been dropped. "I think he ate the cookies, really, just so he could have double dessert after dinner."
Rem looked very focused, trying to spell the word 'breakfast'. "Oooohhh... how do you spell the 'breck' sounding part?"
"B-R-E-A-K, darling."
"Thanks." He accidentally reversed the 'E' and 'A' without realizing. "That one was hard."
"That's why you ask for help, dear."
Rem wagged his tail. Then he tilted his head. "Wait, you said no chocolate for Johann. But they were chocolate chip cookies..." His voice grew very suspicious. She tried not to giggle, delighted he had caught on. "Ms. Lady, how do you feel about dessert?"
"Well, I love sweets, but I would never steal my own cookies! That's preposterous! If you have a cookie, you don't get dessert after dinner. I wouldn't give that up!"
Rem pretended to straighten his stack of 'evidence' papers by tapping them on the desk. "But you said, Ms. Lady, that you figured he wanted double dessert... You're trying to set him up so you get all the dessert today!" He pointed a little clawed finger, and Geist straightened a bit, hearing a soft laugh from the door. She looked over her shoulder and saw Abrams had come back, and had cracked the door to listen in. "Papa, you gotta arrest her for being a cookie thief!"
"Gahhh, I can't believe it!" Abrams stepped inside with a brown paper bag. "But, there's a problem, buddy. Can't arrest her for taking her own cookies."
Rem squinted at Geist.
"You're off the hook..."
"Ohhhh, thank goodness. I didn't want to go on trial." Geist sat a bit more comfortably now that their play-pretend was over. "How are you, Abrams?"
"I'm good." He circled around his desk and dug through the bag until he produced Rem's portion of lunch.
"I see you've got the brains in the office today."
"Yeah, babysitter was booked and I just got papers to sift through today." He sat down in another chair, letting Rem have the big swivel one behind his desk.
"I just adore his little hat." Geist smiled as Rem began to devour his meal. Abrams beamed a bit, puffing up with pride.
"He wears Fern's hat every chance he gets, so we figured we'd get him his own."
"I like it!" Rem piped up, before crunching on a chip.
"Yeah, bud! And it looks great on you."
Rem quietly squealed with delight. "I love my hat."
Geist let out a little 'aww'. "And his little glassessss..."
"He's a little gentleman." Abrams unwrapped his sandwich, and after a bite turned to look at her. "So, did you need anything, or just stopping by?"
"Just saying hello. Say, who is it that babysits for you and Infernus?"
"Usually Celeste, but she's a little busy with her new girlfriend. Which is fine. We've been needing to find a backup anyways. This'll probably be the push to get one." Abrams took another bite. "Just gotta... find somebody with some free time we trust around the house."
"I see. Well, it is summer, isn't it? Perhaps Dynamo and Marla would be eligible, if he doesn't have any summer classes to do. Your families are close, yes?"
"Ohhh, that is true... I'll see about giving those two a call sometime. Heard Pocket was living with them for now, maybe they'd be free..?"
"Oh, truly?" Geist hummed with thought. Then she looked back at Rem, who was messing with his tie. "... ohhh, I remember when he was big enough to fit in the palm of your hand..."
Abrams followed her gaze. "Back when he was just a little fuzzball." A sniff. "Yeah."
"You're getting big, aren't you, dear?" Geist asked towards Rem, who lifted his head and nodded at her.
"Yeah. Everybody tells me that." With half of his lunch eaten, he began to draw again, pausing on the little sandwich and bag of chips.
"Do you think you'll be as big as your father one day?"
"Maybe! But then I would need more sandwiches."
Her and Abrams exchanged a little look.
"What's your favorite?"
"... ummm... well, I wanna try peanut butter again."
"Gets stuck in his beak," Abrams murmured to her.
"Ahhh. Well, maybe one day."
"S'okay. I still like turkey."
Geist found the idea of a little bird-cat child eating poultry a little morbid, but said nothing.