A/N: At this point, I actually begin to take pride in having written these after all, haha. I wanted to focus on description in this but NOTE: I am aware, as my grandma was raised by immigrants from England, that the way Holmes takes his tea is not necesarily common, possibly even that a proper Brit might prefer their tea black (that's how I take it, and I'm a registered American from outer space XD) If anyone dislikes the inaccuracy, I apologize. That being said, enjoy!
Title: Tea for Two
Category: Moive-verse (could very well be bookverse as well however)
Rating: K
Warings: Uh...tea haters beware...?
Post Hoc, Ergo Propter Hoc
"After this, therefore because of this"
Disclaimer: *thinks* you know...there was once a time when I got really creative with these. Screw it, SACD and RDJ and Jude Law and Guy Ritchie. Blah.
Tea for Two
The kettle over the fireplace begins to boil. The doctor removes it and pours hot water into the teapot waiting on the table. Steaming water mixes with tealeaves and the pleasant aroma of black tea slowly wafts from the center of the table through the room.
The both like their tea strong and so it is brewed that way; dark as sin and thick as the air on a humid summer's night. He leans forward momentarily to breathe in the smell; little whispers of evaporating steam reach up to caress his face before ceasing to exist altogether.
Once the tea is brewed enough, he pours it from the teapot and into two elegant cups, compliments of Mrs. Hudson. The cup of cream is taken, and also a spoon. He dips the spoon into the teacup, making small circles that result in the light tinking noise of silver on porcelain as the spoon sweeps the bottom of the cup and creates a small whirlpool of Ceylon. The dark amber liquid slowly thickens as he adds cream with utmost patience. The color transforms form stained pine to deep maple, then finally to caramel. Abruptly, the doctor stops adding cream; should any more be added to produce a hazelnut color, it will be ruined.
It looks and smells perfect, but he takes a spoon and holds it to his lips, just to be sure.
Perfect indeed.
He can tell by now from color alone how to make the ideal cup, but has seen the reaction to an unsatisfactory sip far too many times, and to far too many people to be so foolish as to hand it over to the picky connoisseur without taste-testing himself. He certainly does have his companion's tastes down to a science, and, satisfied with the tea, he places the cup on its saucer and slides it across the table to Sherlock Holmes.
London's greatest detective is half-hidden behind masses of newspapers, notes, and letters regarding case he is emerged in. His right hand comes forward to take the handle of the cup. The grimy hand, blackened fingernails and all, disappears behind a copy of The London Post. The doctor drops his gaze to attend to his own tea.
As he is adding one and a half spoonfuls of sugar (so as to offer the warm whisper of sweetness without muddling the strong taste of the fine tea), Holmes' voice calls across the small table.
"You're becoming quite good at this, Watson. At least I can trust you won't try and poison me, unlike…that Nanny…"
The emphasis that goes into making Mrs. Hudson's name sound pure evil tells Watson that Holmes is making progress in his case and is in light spirits, and he opens a small black book of poisons that the detective leant him to read up on (they are his own messy but obsessively accurate and avid notes), reading and taking a sip at the same time while nodding a response to his friend.
It's not much; Holmes would never understand how much thought and heart goes into simply brewing him a cup of tea, but Watson much prefers to keep it that way anyway. And without knowing it, Holmes gives him enough recognition for his labors, just as he always does, with his distant and often masked approval.
The game wouldn't be as entertaining as he was fully appreciated, anyway.
I hope you enjoyed! Let me know what you think please, and let me know if you have any reccomendations or requests!
