Work Text:
The first cup of tea was caffeinated peppermint with three spoonfuls of sugar, steeped for 3 minutes. After the worm attack, everyone in the Archives of the Magnus Institute was on edge, Jon most of all after the discovery of Gertrude's body. He'd been staying later every day and become secretive and isolated. They weren't really within Martin's definition of friends, they barely saw each other outside of work, but he'd been softly hoping for companionship for months, especially after the conversations they'd had when he lived in the Archives for a time. He figured tea was good for stress, which Jon had an abundance of.
The problem being, Martin didn't have the faintest idea what kind of tea Jon even liked. He rarely drank tea with the assistants, Sasha, who loved chamomile tea with honey and stevia, and Tim, who drank apple cinnamon tea with maple syrup and sugar. So, he took his best guess at the most general cup of tea Jon might like. Peppermint for focus, caffeine for energy, and sugar for taste. He carried the plain blue mug into the office, gently knocking on the door first.
The second cup of tea was made with only slightly more direction; Jon didn't mind the peppermint. He had, however, made a snarky comment about how sugary it was. Martin cursed himself for not even thinking that Jon might not want that much sugar. He decided this time to give Jon a cup of his favorite kind of tea, strawberry-raspberry tea with added lemon and two teaspoons of sugar. It was fruity and a good blend, without too much sweetness. Plus, the box of tea proclaimed it helped immune health, which he was sure couldn't be overly true. Granted, he hadn't gotten sick in a while. He knocked on Jon's door, walking in at the call.
The third cup of tea was made mostly out of frustration. Jon had nearly gagged upon drinking the second cup, which Martin was a little hurt by. On top of the general stress, a lead Sasha and Martin had been following for days had completely fallen through, proving to be entirely a hoax and leaving them with nothing. Jon was angry, Sasha was huffy, and Martin was all-around tired. He took a bag of plain English Breakfast tea and brewed it for seven minutes, after being briefly dragged away by Tim, adding two spoonfuls of sugar, a tablespoon of french vanilla creamer, and a pinch of cinnamon. It smelled heavenly, and Martin was sure it would be the one, opting to simply stroll inside the office without knocking.
The fourth cup of tea wasn't really tea at all. Rather, with a stroke of genius, Martin had plotted how to make perfect tea for Jon. After all, he couldn't have known that Jon hated vanilla almost as much as he hated black tea. This time, Martin took the kettle and filled a teacup with boiling water, and added nothing. He grabbed the tray he'd set with nine different tea bags, four spoonfuls of sugar in a small bowl, a packet each of syrup and honey, a variety of artificial sweeteners, a small bottle of lemon juice, and two types of creamer. He gently kicked the door, hands full, to announce his presence, strolling in when Jon opened it, irritated.
The fifth cup of tea would finally be perfect. Martin had memorized the ingredients he gave to Jon and knew exactly which ones he'd used. Plain green tea with a packet of honey, one packet of something called "aspartame", and one spoonful of plain sugar. Martin prepared the tea, pouring the water over the teabag and stirring in the various ingredients. They were odd, sure, but he admired the oddity as unique. Deeming it perfect, he proudly knocked on Jon's door, letting himself in.
Satisfied, Martin wrote down Jon's favorite tea and added it to the paper taped inside the tea cabinet. The sheet was now complete with everyone's cuppa of choice. He left the break room and returned to his desk, delighted he finally had a full collection.
The sixth cup of tea lay on Martin's desk, not placed there by him but merely appearing when he went to fetch a statement at Jon's request, one that proved difficult to find. He picked up the cup curiously, seeing a small handwritten note underneath in oddly neat letters. "Thank you for the tea, Martin. I thought I'd make you some."
Martin sat down and happily put the note in his pocket, then sipped the tea. It tasted horrible, somehow bitter and overly sweet all at once, spicy with too much cinnamon, and sour with too much lemon, all fighting for prominence over the overly strong base. He drank the whole thing, deciding to make all the tea for both him and Jon from then, or at least teaching Jon how to make good tea.