BtVS Ficlet: Universal Remedy
Title: Universal Remedy
Fandom: BtVS
Author: badly_knitted
Characters: Giles, Willow.
Rating: PG
Setting: Season One, shortly after I Robot, You Jane.
Summary: Willow is understandably upset about recent events, but Giles knows what she needs. Tea.
Word Count: 783
Written For: cornerofmadness’s prompt ‘Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Rupert Giles + any, making a proper cup of tea,’ at comment_fic.
Disclaimer: I don’t own BTVS, or the characters.
Americans, with their American ways and their reliance on coffee, will never understand the importance of a proper cup of tea. And by that, Giles means tea made with loose leaves and brewed in a teapot, not what Americans term tea, made with teabags and drunk, as often as not, with the bag still floating in it.
“You’ve had a nasty shock,” he tells Willow, patting her hand a bit awkwardly. Dealing with teenagers, or children of any age, is not one of his talents, certainly not part of his Watcher training, and since he doesn’t have siblings or younger cousins, he finds young people a bit baffling, especially those of an American persuasion. They’re like a different breed, similar to the British variety but less domesticated, bordering on feral. Still, he’s doing his best to be comforting. “What you need is a soothing cup of tea.”
“Oh. Okay,” Willow replies vaguely, still looking somewhat dazed and upset. Giles can’t really blame her; she handled the existence of vampires extraordinarily well, but being held prisoner by a lovestruck robot demon would be a bit much for anyone.
He leaves her sitting on his sofa and goes into the kitchen, filling the kettle and putting it on. While the water heats, he gets out cups and saucers, and sets them on a tray along with a small jug of milk and the sugar basin, then adds teaspoons, one in each saucer. He will absolutely NOT serve tea in mugs; it’s a deplorable habit, quite disgraceful, treating quality tea like common coffee.
When the water boils, he warms the pot, swilling water around inside it, then pouring it away before adding two spoonfuls of Earl Grey, one for each person, and a third for the pot, just as his grandmother taught him. Pouring the water over the leaves, he puts the lid on, then the tea cosy to keep everything hot while the tea steeps. Setting the pot and the tea strainer on the tray, he carries everything into the lounge, placing it carefully on the low table in front of the sofa.
Willow is still right where he left her, staring into space, clutching a wad of damp tissues in her hands. She is quite a remarkable girl, more upset at being the person responsible for scanning a demon into the internet than about being abducted. She’s also ashamed and guilty over skipping classes and not doing homework, and Giles finds it impossible to imagine either Buffy or any of her other friends ever suffering a moment’s guilt over such behaviour. Willow takes her education very seriously, an attitude that meets with Giles’ full approval.
Pouring the tea into two cups, he adds a dash of milk to each, hesitates briefly, the adds sugar to Willow’s cup, stirring it thoroughly and placing the spoon back in the saucer. Sweet tea is best for shock, although Giles prefers his own unadulterated.
“Here.” He passes Willow her cup. “Drink this, it will help.”
“Thank you.” Willow picks the cup up, leaving Giles holding the saucer, so he sets it on the table, picking up his own cup and saucer, and sitting in the chair opposite. Willow’s looking into her cup as if she’s never seen tea before, but after staring at it a bit longer, she takes a sip. “Ow. Hot!”
“Would you like more milk?” Giles is determined to be a good host. After all, it’s not every day a tearful teenager shows up on his doorstep babbling about being a bad student, an evil person for letting a demon loose, potentially dooming the world, and as if that wasn’t enough to be ashamed of, a bad friend. Giles still isn’t sure he understands that last part, but in all honesty, the tears and the sniffling made it rather difficult to make out most of what Willow was saying earlier. All Giles was able to do was offer tissues and reassurance that she’s not evil, she simply made a mistake, and since Moloch is once again safely contained, no serious harm has been done.
He adds a drop more milk to Willow’s cup, and she obediently sips again, and keeps sipping until the cup is empty.
Giles watches, smiling in satisfaction, as he drinks his own tea. There is simply nothing in existence more beneficial in any kind of crisis than a proper cup of tea, and he refills Willow’s cup without her having to ask. He might not be an expert at knowing what to say to distraught teenagers, but one thing he does know is how to make tea, and in the end, that’s one of the most valuable skills anyone can have.
The End
Fandom: BtVS
Author: badly_knitted
Characters: Giles, Willow.
Rating: PG
Setting: Season One, shortly after I Robot, You Jane.
Summary: Willow is understandably upset about recent events, but Giles knows what she needs. Tea.
Word Count: 783
Written For: cornerofmadness’s prompt ‘Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Rupert Giles + any, making a proper cup of tea,’ at comment_fic.
Disclaimer: I don’t own BTVS, or the characters.
Americans, with their American ways and their reliance on coffee, will never understand the importance of a proper cup of tea. And by that, Giles means tea made with loose leaves and brewed in a teapot, not what Americans term tea, made with teabags and drunk, as often as not, with the bag still floating in it.
“You’ve had a nasty shock,” he tells Willow, patting her hand a bit awkwardly. Dealing with teenagers, or children of any age, is not one of his talents, certainly not part of his Watcher training, and since he doesn’t have siblings or younger cousins, he finds young people a bit baffling, especially those of an American persuasion. They’re like a different breed, similar to the British variety but less domesticated, bordering on feral. Still, he’s doing his best to be comforting. “What you need is a soothing cup of tea.”
“Oh. Okay,” Willow replies vaguely, still looking somewhat dazed and upset. Giles can’t really blame her; she handled the existence of vampires extraordinarily well, but being held prisoner by a lovestruck robot demon would be a bit much for anyone.
He leaves her sitting on his sofa and goes into the kitchen, filling the kettle and putting it on. While the water heats, he gets out cups and saucers, and sets them on a tray along with a small jug of milk and the sugar basin, then adds teaspoons, one in each saucer. He will absolutely NOT serve tea in mugs; it’s a deplorable habit, quite disgraceful, treating quality tea like common coffee.
When the water boils, he warms the pot, swilling water around inside it, then pouring it away before adding two spoonfuls of Earl Grey, one for each person, and a third for the pot, just as his grandmother taught him. Pouring the water over the leaves, he puts the lid on, then the tea cosy to keep everything hot while the tea steeps. Setting the pot and the tea strainer on the tray, he carries everything into the lounge, placing it carefully on the low table in front of the sofa.
Willow is still right where he left her, staring into space, clutching a wad of damp tissues in her hands. She is quite a remarkable girl, more upset at being the person responsible for scanning a demon into the internet than about being abducted. She’s also ashamed and guilty over skipping classes and not doing homework, and Giles finds it impossible to imagine either Buffy or any of her other friends ever suffering a moment’s guilt over such behaviour. Willow takes her education very seriously, an attitude that meets with Giles’ full approval.
Pouring the tea into two cups, he adds a dash of milk to each, hesitates briefly, the adds sugar to Willow’s cup, stirring it thoroughly and placing the spoon back in the saucer. Sweet tea is best for shock, although Giles prefers his own unadulterated.
“Here.” He passes Willow her cup. “Drink this, it will help.”
“Thank you.” Willow picks the cup up, leaving Giles holding the saucer, so he sets it on the table, picking up his own cup and saucer, and sitting in the chair opposite. Willow’s looking into her cup as if she’s never seen tea before, but after staring at it a bit longer, she takes a sip. “Ow. Hot!”
“Would you like more milk?” Giles is determined to be a good host. After all, it’s not every day a tearful teenager shows up on his doorstep babbling about being a bad student, an evil person for letting a demon loose, potentially dooming the world, and as if that wasn’t enough to be ashamed of, a bad friend. Giles still isn’t sure he understands that last part, but in all honesty, the tears and the sniffling made it rather difficult to make out most of what Willow was saying earlier. All Giles was able to do was offer tissues and reassurance that she’s not evil, she simply made a mistake, and since Moloch is once again safely contained, no serious harm has been done.
He adds a drop more milk to Willow’s cup, and she obediently sips again, and keeps sipping until the cup is empty.
Giles watches, smiling in satisfaction, as he drinks his own tea. There is simply nothing in existence more beneficial in any kind of crisis than a proper cup of tea, and he refills Willow’s cup without her having to ask. He might not be an expert at knowing what to say to distraught teenagers, but one thing he does know is how to make tea, and in the end, that’s one of the most valuable skills anyone can have.
The End