Work Text:
“AH, SHIT!!!”
Nimona squeaked indignantly, shaking their now blistering finger that had accidentally skimmed along the edge of the boiling pot as they had tried to remove it from the smoking stovetop. Tears sprung from their eyes as they brought the finger to their mouth
The stuffy phlegmy voice of their guardian echoed from the bedroom, causing them to jump.
“Everything okay?”
“Uh…”
The redhead's voice trailed off as they glanced around the small kitchen. A heavy layer of smoke inhibited their vision slightly, the vapors coming from the kettle they’d attempted to boil, supported by the fact there was barely any water inside it where it resided in the sink. In the frantic craze of removing it from the growing flames, they’d spilt the freshly squeezed lemon juice, which was still pouring out onto the counter and into the sink, and honey was smeared across the counter tops and on the floor, creating a large, sticky, unsavory mess (which would explain the tacky feeling on their heel when they walked).
“Everything’s fine, boss,” the pitchy whine of their voice indicated that everything was in fact not fine.
“You sure? There’s no shame in asking for help!” The man, Ballister, called to them and they could hear the rustling of fabric as the knight was attempting to rise from the safety of the bed.
“NO!!”
Rushing over and pulling the curtain back just far enough they could slip behind and hold it close as she grinned sheepishly at the raven, who was now hunched over sitting at the edge of the bed, frozen except for his eyes that looked over his charge in concern. They stared at each other, neither willing to back down from the sudden staring match. Ballister waited for the shapeshifter to indicate why they were up so early, and why they had been making such a ruckus, which had awoken the knight from his restless sleep. Nimona waited for the man to give in and lay back down in bed so that they could return to the kitchen, where they attempted to make Ballister’s special tea as a surprise. It was a waiting game neither one was about to back down from.
That is until a dark, searing smell accosted their nostrils. Even with the buildup of mucus blocking the black knight’s sinuses, the scent was heavy and vile.
“Is something burning?” he finally asked.
“Oh crap, I forgot to turn off the stove!” they exclaimed, more to themselves than to him, and they bolted back out to the burning kitchen.
Ballister sighed and shook his head in amusement. Slowly and carefully he rose to his feet with a groan, joints popping and cracking as he stood to his full height, muscles sore from spending so much time in bed, even the metal of the artificial arm squeaked in protest. He’d experienced the beginnings of a cold about two days ago before being officially bedridden with a fever and he was still riding out the worst of the symptoms. Thankfully though it had mostly dwindled to a stuffy nose and a more mild fever so he didn’t have too much trouble making his way to the kitchen where Nimona was currently using a towed to try and fan some of the smoke out of the now open window.
“Kid, what are you doing?” Ballister probably should be a little more worried about the state of the kitchen and possibly the fact the shapeshifter almost burned the building down with them inside it, but he couldn’t help the small chuckle that bubbled up at the sight. The poor thing’s face was almost as red as their hair as they now clutched the towel in front of them like a little girl would clutch their dress, and was looking down in embarrassment and shame. The raven immediately sobered up at this, smile fading when he noticed the shiny reflection of unshed tears in their eyes.
“Hey wait, Nimona it’s okay,” he walked over and kneeled in front of them, but they turned their head away, he gently removed the towel and replaced it with his hands, softly squeezing them, “what’s going on, sweetie.”
Nimona felt their heart clench at the nickname; the two had now been living together for almost three years so while it wasn’t uncommon for Ballister to address them with endearments, it was something they were still getting used to.
“You didn’t make any tea last night.”
The knight swallowed down a surprised scoff and bit his lip to keep from smiling, mostly out of shock. It was a rather surprising thing for Nimona to be upset about. Yes, normally Ballister liked to make a pot of tea before bed, especially when one of them was feeling unwell, and he and Nimona would spend the time talking or watching the telly. But he’d been really tired last night and decided just to stay in bed and try to sleep off the sickness. If he’d known Nimona would be this upset about it though he would’ve pushed aside the discomfort in a heartbeat.
“I’m sorry, Nimona, but if you wanted tea you could’ve woken me up. I’d be more than happy to make you a cuppa.”
“That’s not it!” the redhead’s voice rose in frustration and the raven’s eyes widened in surprise. Biting their lip, they took a deep breath before releasing it, looking up at the man apologetically.
Bal simply nodded in understanding, giving another gentle squeeze of their hands.
He watched his sidekick as they appeared to be debilitating over their next words, opening and closing their mouth, eyebrows scrunched in disgruntlement.
Through it all the knight waited patiently for them to find their voice. Opening up has and always will be difficult for the both of them, but in each other’s presence they find the vulnerability that comes with it a little more easy to bear.
“You always do it,” Nimona’s voice was small, just loud enough for him to hear, “make the tea I mean. When I’m having my bad days, or when I’m sick, or when other people come over. You always do it and…I always feel better after I drink it, because it reminds me that you actually want to be here. That you…that you care about me. I wanted…I was trying…”
The shapeshifter groaned in dismay, lump catching in their throat, unable to vocalize their wishes any further. It seemed they were reaching their limit, so the knight valiantly took the reins for them.
“You wanted to return the favor and show that you care about me, too,” he finished simply. Ruby eyes looked away again as they nodded. The dark knight couldn’t hold it in anymore, a smile stretching across his face as his heart soared; he was elated.
“Oh, sweetheart, come here,” he urged them closer for an embrace, not even batting an eye when they shifted into their cat form, simply brushing his fingers through the soft red fur. He stood up with the feline still in his arms, allowing them to nuzzle their head underneath his chin and chuckling when he realized they were purring.
“Tell you what,” he pulled his head back and looked down at the beady red eyes of his kid, “I’m gonna place an order for some groceries while we clean up the kitchen. Once they’re here we can make the tea together, that way you’ll know for next time. Is that a good plan?”
Eyes glittered with excitement, Nimona nodded, putting a paw on the knight’s shoulder’s to bump their head with his before hopping down and changing back to their human form. The man chuckled at their enthusiasm and grabbed his phone to place an order before they set to work.
It was amazing the places honey could spill when you weren’t paying attention (“How did you get it BEHIND the fridge?!?!”), but it didn’t actually take very long for the kitchen to be spotless. Eventually the groceries arrived and Ballister sat on the counter as he walked Nimona through the instruction for the tea, even telling her his secret which is to add the lemon juice to the water as it is boiling so that they can mix together more efficiently. As Nimona mixes the lemon water in with the honey and then adds the tea bags in to steep them, Bal can’t help but smile at how proud they seemed to be at their accomplishment.
While the tea steeps, Ballister hops down from the counter and begins preparing some biscuits and jam he decided to splurge on for a proper little tea party. He sets it out on the table as Nimona brings the cups and places them on either side.
As they sit, the knight notices the shapeshifter biting their lips again anxiously, watching and waiting for him to have the first sip. Deciding to tease them a little he reaches for a biscuit and spends an unnecessary amount of time spreading some strawberry jam onto it, dutifully ignoring the loud tapping of the redheads foot underneath the table. Once he spreads the jam he gently places the biscuit onto his plate and reaches for a napkin, folding it gently and placing it onto his lap.
“Bal!” Nimona bites out sharply in annoyance.
“What?” the man asks incredulously, feigning innocence as he looks at them.
He can’t help but smirk when their eye begins to twitch.
“Alright, alright,” he finally reaches for his tea cup and blows on it gently before bringing the cup to his lips and taking a small sip.
It’s practically heaven, could use a little less honey next time, but overall not bad at all.
“It’s good, Nimona, you did a fantastic job.”
The red head beamed, shoulders slumping in relief as they reached for a biscuit and spread some grape jelly on top before taking a sip of their own tea. She hums in delight when they realize Ballister wasn’t lying, and that it was good. Maybe they’ll lighten up on the honey next time, but it was almost as perfect as when Bal made it.
They ate in silence, simply enjoying the other’s company when a bolt of lightning and thunder suddenly shook the house and they looked outside to see that it was pouring down. Looking over, Nimona realized that they had left the window open and got up to go close it.
“Wait, don't close it,” the older man’s voice stopped them and turned to look at him curiously, “I like the sound, and the cold air is refreshing,” he explained. The redhead shrugged and went to sit back down.
“Won’t it make your cold worse, though?”
“Eh, I’ll worry about that when I get there,” the man waved his hand, unbothered.
Typical.
Rolling their eyes, Nimona shoved the last bit of pastry into their mouth before rising again and disappearing behind the curtain of the makeshift bedroom. Ballister dutifully noted in the back of his mind to talk to Ambrosius about their finances. It was about time they got a house with a proper room for Nimona.
As quickly as they left, they came back with a blanket and book in their hand
“Come on,” they said simply, motioning to the couch.
Tilting his head inquisitively, Ballister watched them stand by the armrest, waiting for him. Curious and finished with his tea and biscuit, Ballister headed over and sat on the couch at the redheads instructions. They grabbed one of the pillows and placed it on their lap before unceremoniously grabbing Ballister and pulling him down. He grunted as his head landed in the pillow at the force they had pulled him with. He turned his head to look up at them with a mixture of annoyance and curiosity and then his eyes widened as they threw the blanket over his body, making sure it covered him as they pulled it up to his neck.
When Nimona had gotten that really bad flu a couple of years back, they were restless and inconsolable one night. To the point where the pain and discomfort left them on the verge of sobbing. Not knowing what else to do, Ballister had made them some tea and soup, almost had to force them to eat and drink, and while it helped a little they still couldn’t fall asleep. So he had grabbed a book and had them curl up close to him, their head in his lap, as he read it aloud. Eventually the soft lilt of his voice as they drawled over the words of the fairytale he’d chosen were enough to help them fall asleep, even if for a short period of time.
He realized with a painfully tender tug at his heart that they were trying to recreate that scene for him. His lips stretched into an affectionate smile, fidgeting a little so he could be comfortable. His eyes faced out and away from them where it rested against the pillow in the shapeshifter’s lap. If he felt a hand gently petting his hair back, neither of them thought it pertinent enough to bring it up.
Clearing their throat, Nimona started, trying to read as low and smoothly as he had that one night years ago.
“Once upon a time…”
And with the words of a familiar fairytale, the pattering of rain, and the faint rumbling of thunder echoing outside, Ballister closed his eyes as only one word echoed in his mind while he drifted off into slumber.
Perfect.