Sitting behind his office chair, Jonah typed on the keyboard projected through his OAM. Halfway through a report he should have submitted the previous night, he slumped back into his chair and sighed, rubbing his eyes. Though it was barely noon, he was far too exhausted to keep going like normal, and the desire for a quick nap quickly overwhelmed him.
"Hey, old man. Guess the years are getting to you, huh?"
Freezing at the sound of the familiar voice, he then looked up, eyes widening as he saw the red haired youth standing before him, arms in the pockets of his jacket.
"Dante?"
"How are you doing?"
Several questions came to his mind, but the answers quickly followed.
"You can see him, but you aren't taking him out." Saying as much, the old police captain stood up. "Not unless the charges are dropped."
"Don't worry. I will get it sorted out."
The reply caused Jonah to wince. He truly wished it wouldn't come to this.
"Listen, Dante… you…"
"Don't think about it too much."
