Tea Time (OTA)

[proper_twinkie]

With everyone using the stove, the kitchen/dining room area was the only bloody room in the whole compound with any kind of warmth. The tea she brought from home but given she didn’t have the right kind of pot, kettle, or infuser she was left with a bastardized version that tasted slightly metallic

Comments

[icecoldwit]

Frankly, Emma was close to feeling the same way.

While it was nice to once again be keeping moderately warmer at night; a bed partner did help in that regard, she couldn't exactly say the same for the day light hours.

She'd never been so clothed in her life.

For Emma, even just some hot water was a blessing. She sat, with her fur around her, sipping the warm liquid with a slice of lemon in it that she'd procured since the rations run earlier. Yes, the onset of 'depression' was a common occurrence.

[proper_twinkie]

Betsy glanced over. "We need a proper infuser though I think that metal taste is coming from the water."

[icecoldwit]

"Frankly I wouldn't be surprised." The only reason Emma drank it was because she'd boiled it already.

"What we really need is better accommodation." There was slumming it and then there was slumming it. And personally, Emma preferred her usual digs to this crap.

[proper_twinkie]

She snorted and smiled at the blond. "No bloody kidding. Someplace with a proper shower, central heating, and a better screening process."

[forgebyfire]

Forge wasn't much bothered by the ever-present chill of the building, nor was he particularly hungry, but he had been walking by the kitchen when the subtle smell of herbs caught both his attention and enough of his curiosity to make him detour from his path back to the garage. There wasn't anything in particular waiting for him there except the continued dismantling of the Jeep, and that was more just to fill the long hours

[proper_twinkie]

Betsy raised her head as he came in. He was a mess. "If you could call it that. I managed as best as I could with what we have here but the tea pot is rubbish and the water tastes metallic. It's not so bad if you add milk though. Help yourself."

She paused and looked at him again. "Wash your hands."

[forgebyfire]

Forge nodded and had taken two steps when she added 'wash your hands.' He paused, looked at her... and then nodded again. "It smells like good tea, regardless," Forge said, continuting on to the sink. There he paused.

He hadn't taken off his glove in front of anyone, not even Bradley. There was a moment of deliberation before Forge shook his head minutely to himself and stripped off the black leather to reveal the intricate metal hand beneath it, the flesh of his wrist scarred where the machine met his body. He turned on the sink and began to wash, soaping up to his forearms.

[proper_twinkie]

She was looking without trying to be obvious but his hand caught her attention. She'd seen worse but it was pretty bad. Betsy didn't even need to peek to know how self conscious he was about it. He probably rarely took that glove off.

"It is good tea. British tea the way it was intended. None of that prepackaged dust the Americans serve. What's your name?"

[proper_twinkie]

"Tell me about it." She huffed dropping her chin onto her hand propping up her head. "I came here thinking there would be missions, excitement, something. If I had known that I was signing up to freeze in some hovel, unless I die of boredom first, I would have told Stryker to shove it."

Betsy drained her cup and set it down resolutely. "We should build something. Something that goes fast."

[forgebyfire]

Again, and again, Forge had to remind himself that this was not the army. "I suppose that a snowmobile might be possible," he said, the words out of his mouth before he'd thought them through and he nearly bit his tongue closing his mouth. No, not the Army. But surely Stryker wouldn't want them roaming everywhere on a jumped-up snowmobile or else they would have been given them.

[proper_twinkie]

"Better yet," She started with an evil little smile. "Can you fly?"

[forgebyfire]

Both of Forge's eyebrows raised. "I suppose," he said evenly, "given a little bit of time I could make something that could hold my body weight." His eyes unfocused a bit. "I might be able to do something... most of the engine was still in tact... if I could just modify the intake..."