Tea For Two
(A B oneshot.)
I know it's been a while since I've posted any oneshots, but that doesn't mean I haven't written any. In fact, I have a collection of oneshots built up since last year that's surely into the triple digits. (That's an exaggeration, but I DEFINITELY have more unposted oneshots than I have published fics on this site.) I wrote this one about a year ago, during the second semester of my junior year. Actually, it was the start of the B binge that has been going on for a long, long time now, and the illustration for this ficlet was the point of inspiration for B is for Baby. Like that fic, this idea began as a joke, but, knowing my sense of humor… well, you'll see.
And to celebrate Tim Burton's recent movie release (you all know which one I'm talking about) I decided I'd like to share it. Because, with how nice and complacent Beyond is acting in the latest chapter of Triskaidekaphilia, I figured everyone would want a nice dose of the crazy, screwed-up B.
So here you go. Enjoy. Of course I don't own Deathnote.
"More tea, Quarter Queen?" Beyond Birthday asked.
Quarter Queen said nothing.
B tilted his head at an awkward angle, picking up a teapot with only his thumb and forefnger. "It's very good tea," he said, as if reassuring someone.
Quarter Queen continued to say nothing, as would be expected of a corpse.
B sat down the teapot and, using only the same two fingers, picked up a jar of jam.
The jam glistened wet and red in the jar as B shoved two fingers into it, scooping out a gooey, gelatinous mass of the sticky substance. His small, pink tongue flicked out to clean off the jam down to the last traces.
"Jam?" he offered, holding the jar out to Quarter Queen.
A fly alighted in the teenage girl's bloodied, hollow eye socket.
"It's the very best jam," B explained.
The girl was beyond having any interest in jam at this point, being deceased as she was. However, even if she wanted the sweet, she said nothing.
B pushed up the brim of his top hat with his pinky finger and shot Quarter Queen a rather impressive red glare.
"You're being quite rude, QQ my dear. I though that all girls dreamed of having fancy tea parties like this."
The "tea party" in question hardly qualified as such. It was more like a fold-out table, covered with a bloody sheet, topped with chipped and mismatched china and cheap snacks. Quarter Queen's small apartment was nearly filled up by the table, and it was so cramped it made the messy murder scene even more uncomfortable.
"Here I have gone to all this trouble preparing this lovely tea party for you, and you won't so much as sample the jam. I scarcely think I'll throwing YOU any more occasions."
Quarter Queen slumped slightly in her chair. Whether this was from disappointment or because her dead body couldn't support itself was left to debate.
With his sticky, jam-stained fingers, B pulled out a shiny silver pocket watch.
"About time to change places," he murmured, almost to himself.
Quarter Queen showed no indication of caring.