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“I always leave it too long and then it’s bitter, still drinkable though."
Balalaika moved the kettle on the stove, “I’m not surprised.”
“Gonna make me fancy-ass Russian tea?” Revy said, peaking around Balalaika.
“It’s not particularly fancy, Revy, it’s just black tea.”
Revy looked at the tea bags and kettle.
“I dunno, isn’t it usually like all, like, I swear to god there was Tang in it,” Revy gestured.
"I haven't the slightest clue what you are talking about," she raised an eyebrow at Revy, holding out the cup still, “Tang?”
“Like orange juice mix. It's a powder. I remember it ‘cause one of my foster moms kept a jar. Also, I stayed there a full three days, I’ll have you know.”
"Three whole days," Balalaika parroted. She shook her head, pouring hot water in the cup over the tea bag, “Take the cup.”
Revy took it, blowing on the surface of the hot tea, “It was like… I don’t fucking know. I once licked the powder by itself. Had all kinds of shit in it. Tasted like ass and cinnamon.”
“I have never heard of such a thing.”
“Well it’s called Russian-fucking-tea.”
“Including the obscenity?” Balalaika teased, moving the tea bag in hers, watching intently.
“No,” Revy said, tasting the half-steeped tea, “It’s for, like, Christmas time and stuff, I should ask Dutch about it. He probably had proper fucking Christmases.”
“Perhaps,” Balalaika sighed.
“This tea is good even though, like, I don’t know shit about tea." Revy moved the cup between her hands, looking at Balalaika.