England sniffed, and looked up from his newspaper. "Alfred…" America turned his head from the coffee shop window, which he'd been people-watching out of, to look at him.
"Yeah?"
"Are you…" England paused, puzzled, and sniffed the air again. "Is that…" He set his paper down, leaning over the table to smell the steam rising from America's cardboard cup. "Is that tea?" he finally asked, craning his neck to look up at America in awe.
"Why yes it is, Artie!" America said brightly, and then took a sip from his cup. England sat up gaping.
"Since when do you drink tea?" he asked, utterly aghast. "You haven't touched the stuff since… well…" England broke off and cleared his throat. "In ages. Why the sudden change of heart?"
"I dunno," America said through another slurp of tea, shrugging. "Starbucks makes a really good cuppa?"
"It does?" England looked dubiously around the interior of the coffee shop, which was far too dimly lit and full of young ruffians with laptops, many of which looked like they could use a good shave. All of them were undoubtedly drinking elaborately-named coffee-based concoctions loaded with sugar and whipped cream. England frowned down at his own cup of black tea, which was still mostly full. It was inexpertly prepared and rather weak; he usually only tolerated the stuff because America adored Starbucks coffee and almost always wanted to stop for drinks either before or after their dinner dates.
"Totally!" America set the cup down and nudged it across the table towards England. "You just have to ask for the right kind. Try it!"
"I must say I'm delighted you've finally taken a liking something other than coffee," England said as he picked up the cup, pleasant surprise overtaking his shock. "Tea requires a rather finer palate in order to be properly enjoyed." He brought the rim of the cup to his lips and took a large sip – then promptly spat it out all over America.
"Dude! Not cool!" America cried, dragging his arm across his now-dripping face. England swiped his hand over his mouth and set the cup down, grimacing.
"What the blazes is this rubbish?" England exclaimed, gesturing to the offending cup with one hand, even as he reached for a napkin and began mopping tea off America's face apologetically with the other.
"It's tea, like I said! What else would it be?" said America through the napkin.
"That," England set down the sodden napkin and jabbed his finger at the cup, "is not tea."
"'Course it is!" America, who was now wiping off his glasses, looked puzzled. "It's a London Fog, actually. I figured you'd like something named after your capital city."
"What, pray tell, is a 'London Fog'?" England asked somewhat warily, popping off the plastic lid to peer at the contents. Whatever was inside was a lightish brown colour, and for some inconceivable reason had blobs of white foam floating on the top.
"It's earl gray tea," America replied, stealing the cup back to take a swig.
England stared at him in dismay. "What in Merlin's name did they do to it?"
"Added milk, vanilla syrup and foam?"
"But why?"
"I dunno, Artie," America said, laughing. "To make it taste better?"
"That's utterly preposterous!" England declared, folding his arms. "It covers up the taste of the tea."
"Well yeah," America set the cup down. "That's the whole point. Tea's pretty boring on its own, isn't it?"
"It is most certainly not," said England, indignant. "It's more than satisfactory on its own. How is one to appreciate the taste and aroma if all of it is drowned in artificial sweetener?"
"Calm down, Artie," America took another sip of his drink. "It's not a big deal – it's just tea."
"Calm d– not a – just tea – " England spluttered. "What you are drinking does not deserve to be called tea. It opposes all that tea stands for! Milk and sugar, perhaps, are acceptable – although thoroughly unnecessary – to take in one's tea, but whatever that," he gestured disparagingly at America's cup, "is, is utter lunacy. I'll bet they didn't even boil the water properly," he added with a disapproving sniff.
"Tea stands for something? Since when do hot beverages stand for stuff?" America was now fighting down a grin. England took a deep breath and pinched the bridge of his nose.
"Drinking tea is a matter of appreciating the delicate nuances of flavour! Of enjoying the simpler things for what they are, and having the sense to recognize the underlying brilliance in even the subtlest of tastes. My people have been enjoying tea perfectly well without all those ridiculous trimmings for centuries – India, Japan and China have had it for even longer, for that matter. Not once in all of that time has any of us felt the need to taint it with overly-saccharine syrups or foam, of all things." England ended his impassioned speech by smacking his palm down on the table for emphasis.
America was smiling at him bemusedly. "Yeah, okay."
England blinked. "Okay?"
"Yep!" America repeated. "Sounds legit. I guess this isn't actually tea after all."
"Oh. Well alright then." England, having expected more resistance, leaned back in his chair. "I'm glad you agree."
"I still totally like this stuff better, though," America grinned.
England's eye twitched as he stared at America dumbly, two spots on his cheeks slowly darkening. "I need to use the loo," he said finally through gritted teeth. He stood up rather forcefully and stalked away in the direction of the toilets, muttering under his breath about 'desecration of tradition', 'disregard for subtlety' and 'poor taste'.
America stared after him in amusement for a few moments before sitting back to finish the rest of his drink.
A/N: This ideas been prodding me in the back of the mind for a while, so I used some of the time in which I'm supposed to be doing homework to write it down. I actually adore London Fogs (more commonly known as earl gray tea lattes!), but I also appreciate tea without anything added to it. ^^ Thanks for reading, and remember, reviews are love.
~Gypsy