"I've had enough tea," Adon responded, waving his hand dismissively. He'd remembered, of course, that he'd been praising it profusely earlier, but that was before his mood had changed. It was changing again, moving through the alphabet of emotions, away from angry and towards business. Next they'd reach civil. Chivalrous? Cordial. Maybe. Adon felt somewhat dubious about the likelihood, but he was getting ahead of himself.

Colette was frowning, elbows on her knees as she hunched over in thought. "Intern?" she finally responded and Adon gave a light sigh, looking back at Maggie. From whats-her-name to intern. And they bothered to actually name the pig.

Adon didn't point this out just now, however.

"That would be helpful, if you could manage the original."

Colette straightened, now, hands on the arms of the chair she was in. "Oh, I can handle it," she said in a glib sort of manner that made Adon, once more, sigh and look to Maggie. This woman must have had the patience of a saint. But what Colette said next, he hadn't been expecting.

"This is currently off the record, and I'm not too comfortable about that. I suspect your hunches aren't usually seen as justifiable cause for searches?" She was quiet a moment.

Adon's brow furrowed. He was quiet a moment, trying to trace the logicality between the two comments. Trying to tell where the discomfort was. "Pardon?"

"I mean, if this was regarding a case that was already open, you'd have thought of this; you'd have shown up with a warrant, and we'd have given it to you already. But since this is personal, and since you haven't made it business. . ." she shrugged. "Just wanting to clarify, here. What you do to access your resources at work on your own time is your business, of course, but I don't exactly want it getting out that I just hand stuff over to anyone who comes knocking. Now, facilitating an investigation -- that I can do. So. You going to make this official?"

Adon sighed. What was it with the Brit's desire to document everything? "Yeh, I'll make it official."

"And you'll leave Maggie out of any of the records on this, too."

Adon smirked. Protective. Ah-dorable. He couldn't blame her for wanting to cover her back; they'd lightened up on Maggie's security; they'd need other assurances. At least Colette was trying to get official coverage rather than that cloak-and-dagger business. "Yeh, alright, you'll be the contact, but I don't see much cause to put names down just yet." He looked to Maggie. "But we'll still be in touch. . ." he tapped his fingertips together, thinking. "There's really nothing to be done at present, then. . .?" he stated, but looked to them as though it was a question.

"Colette, you don't need to do that," Maggie interrupted as she ran a hand over her face, embarrassed yet touched by her concern. Of course, it was completely fine if Maggie looked out for herself and her friends, but when anyone tried to do the same for her it felt like a Big Deal and she didn't like that. Go away, mushy feelings of gratitude!

Adon agreed to keep in touch and said he'd make the investigation official, and then asked if there was anything else that needed to be done.

"I don't think so," Maggie said lamely, feeling a bit useless. "We'll pester the intern - Clarissa, that's her name," she shook her head. "We'll hang around the owls and find those original letters. And eventually, we'll figure out who sent in that drivel to the paper." Maggie was about to add that the author of Call to Action likely wouldn't be able to resist responding to Dreogan's rebuttal, but they'd been doing so well these past few minutes. There was more than one way of responding: by quill, by wand, or by other inventive measures, and she felt no need to remind him of the reasons he feared for his brother's safety.

"We'll figure this out," she repeated with a confidence she didn't quite feel, looking Adon in the eye. They'd made progress. He didn't seem paralyzed with silent rage every time Colette opened her mouth. He was still a bit twitchy, but oh well.

"In the meantime, the invitation still stands the next time we get together. I can't promise pillow fights but I can promise drinking. You know, if you think you can handle it," Maggie smirked slightly, glancing at Colette, who was probably wondering what she was on about. She'd fill her in later. Maggie owed her that much after this tense evening.