Timeline: post-"Nubbins"

Tea for Two

Will was surprised to hear quiet music coming from the 'family' kitchen. He had not expected to find anyone awake at that hour, was not sure if he was up to facing anyone else after those horrible dreams. But to flee would have been to admit how unsettled the nightmares had left him, and he refused to do that either.

Hotel California was playing quietly on a radio resting on the counter, and Magnus sat at the little kitchen-table with her back to the door with a teapot in front of her.

She looked around at his entrance, her eyes heavily-lidded as though she was either just about to fall asleep or had only recently come awake.

"Oh, good morning, Will," she greeted him with a yawn. "Couldn't sleep?" She climbed to her feet and opened a cabinet. "Join me for a cup of tea."

He shook his head. "I wouldn't want to intrude."

"Nonsense," she answered, bringing down a white-and-blue-patterned cup and bringing it back to the table. "If I minded an intrusion, I wouldn't be sitting in one of the public areas," she pointed out, filling the cup with pale tea. "Here, this will help you sleep. Chamomile with just a hint of lavender."

He stared at her curiously, sitting down and accepting the proffered cup. "Not proper British tea?"

She smiled faintly. "Proper British tea has too much caffeine. I would like to get some sleep tonight. Enjoy."

"Thanks." He took a sip of tea. "That's nice."

"Yes, I find it doesn't even need sweetener. Still, there's honey if you'd like."

"No, that's okay. It's good like this."

"As you wish," she agreed, taking another sip, closing her eyes and obviously savoring the taste.

"Insomnia?" he ventured.

"Or something very much like it. I had no difficulty getting to sleep, but I woke up and found myself unable to relax again. I thought a cup of tea might be in order. You?"

"Bad dream. I thought I'd warm up some milk. But this'll probably work just as well."

"I should think so. It's been helping me sleep for over a hundred years now."

"Can't argue with a track-record like that," he answered. "You have this problem often? Waking up and not being able to get back to sleep?"

"It very much depends on the nature of my dreams on a given night. If I only dream about work, I seldom wake and never have difficulty sleeping again."

"And the rest of the time?"

"Trying to profile me, Doctor Zimmerman?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Just worried about my friend."

"Well, in that case, Will, the dreams that I have which do not relate to work are of a decidedly more pleasant nature."

Her tone of voice made him color. "Yeah, sorry, that was none of my business, was it?"

"You are my friend at least as much as you are my employee, Will," she answered. "And, as this facility's psychiatrist, you have every right to be concerned about the mental… eccentricities of the staff."

"Even you?"

"Especially me, I should hope," she answered, refilling her cup. "Considering that the wellbeing of each of the rest of you rests largely upon my own shoulders. I like to think that I can trust you to act as a sort of watchdog when it comes to my behavior."

"You think you need one?" he asked, surprised.

"Hardly at present, but who can speak to the future?" She smiled. "While it's true that I don't age normally, it's hard to say what psychiatric effects living this long might eventually create."

"You think that's going to be a problem?"

"Well, I certainly hope not. But who's to say for certain? My condition is one mass of uncertainties. I could radically age overnight or wake up stricken with dementia tomorrow. On the other hand, I may ring in my five hundredth birthday whole and sound."

"And you really have no idea which it will be?"

"Not the faintest clue," she admitted with a shrug. "I do my best not to think about it."

"Does it work?"

"Quite frequently."

"But not tonight?"

"On the contrary. I find myself remarkably unassailed by doubts this evening."

"But you still can't sleep?"

"After all these years, nightmares are easy to dismiss, Will. Pleasant dreams, however, raise their own set of questions."

He considered this for a moment. "Would you like to talk about it?"

"I'm not honestly sure," she admitted.

"Well, I won't push. But if you ever do need to talk. About anything."

Magnus smiled at him. "I appreciate that, Will, I really do."

"But you won't take me up on it?"

She waggled her hand in a noncommittal gesture. "After more than a century of keeping my own counsel, it's become a difficult pattern to break."

"I'm sure it is, but I'd point out that 'the talking cure' has proven efficacy. It's been around almost as long as you have."

Another smile. "I'll bear that in mind, Will. And, I should hope that it goes without saying that my door is always open to you should you need to talk. I imagine all of this must still be rather overwhelming at times."

"You can say that again," he agreed, nodding emphatically. "Though none of it seems to faze Henry or Ashley."

"Yes, well Ashley and Henry have a habit of forgetting that there are people who were not born and raised to this life. Having been introduced to it as an adult myself, I can probably relate a little better, even if it has been years since I allowed myself to be genuinely surprised by much of anything."

"Nothing surprises you? Come on, Magnus, there must be something?"

"Well, I do admit that the Nubbins took me somewhat unawares." She smiled and refilled her cup. "Of course, I am so seldom in anything but complete control of myself…"

"Even with the Nubbins, you seemed to be in more control than the rest of us."

"Well, I have had a century more than the rest of you to practice suppressing certain natural impulses. It was still quite unsettling."

"Hey, you weren't the only one losing control a little there. None of us were at our best."

"No, I suppose none of us were."

She looked as though she wanted to question him on exactly which form his 'losing control' had taken. Fortunately, she seemed to think better of it, for which Will was grateful. He was not sure exactly what form 'indignant mother' took in Magnus' case, but he was sure that he didn't want to see it directed against himself.

"Are you settling in well?" Magnus asked after a few moments of relatively comfortable silence.

"Pretty well," he agreed. "Establishing a routine. Getting to know the patients. Sleeping more nights than not."

"I'm glad. It must make a nice change for you."

"I could get used to routinely getting a full night's sleep," he admitted, nodding.

She smiled and offered, "I can prescribe you a sedative."

"I'm not sure the insomnia's that bad anymore," he answered. "But thanks. I'll remember the offer should I ever need it."

"You do that." She topped off his tea. "You should consider getting back to bed."

"So should you," he countered.

She hesitated for a moment, before admitting, "I sometimes dread those few minutes before sleep comes, alone in the darkness with no company but your own thoughts and feelings."

"Know that feeling," he agreed. "All your guards are down and there's no holding back any fear or memory that wants to present itself."

"Precisely." She sipped at her tea, expression troubled.

"Want to talk about it?" he offered again.

She shook her head. "I think I'll just find some work to occupy myself with."

"You can't stave off sleep indefinitely," he pointed out.

"Nor can you, Will."

"No, but…"

"No, but," she agreed. "Fancy a few hours down in the shooting range?"

"You know, it's funny. All those years working for the feds and the cops, dealing with murderers on a day-to-day basis. And I don't have to learn to use a gun until I join a private research facility."

"God has a sense of humor, Will. Never doubt that."

"Oh, I don't," he assured her. "Only took about three days in your world for me to figure that out."

"Do you ever regret it? Agreeing to come work for me?"

"Magnus, everything about this job and this place is completely strange and usually pretty terrifying, too. But it's also the most rewarding thing I've ever done. I think, for that, I can ignore a little personal discomfort."

She smiled. "I'm glad, Will. Now, why don't you try to get some sleep, hmm?"

"Easier said than done. I really don't see getting back to sleep any time soon."

"Well, in that case, I believe I have the ultimate cure for insomnia just waiting. There's a great deal of filing and collating that needs to be taken care of rather badly. Between the two of us, it should take some hours and incite considerable fatigue."

"Sounds like a plan. Lead the way."

Smiling, she climbed to her feet again, tightening the belt of her bathrobe and gesturing for him to follow. He jumped up and fell into step beside her, eager to get started.

He normally hated routine clerical duties, but Magnus had a point. Filing really was a great cure for insomnia.

End