tea and baking time

Billie had just spent an hour hanging out at Jackal’s apartment, sprawling on the battered sofa while they blasted punk music and talked trash about the idiots they’d seen around Burrowgatory that day. For once, Billie had felt like her usual edgy mood was at home—no fluff, no frills, just raw honesty with someone who got her.

But when she went to raid Jackal’s kitchen, a sweet, almost too-sweet scent hit her nose. Confused, she blinked, pushing open the door to see Dove in the middle of baking. They wore a frilly apron over their usual flowing robes, their halo glowing gently as they rolled out dough with careful precision. They looked up and beamed at her, all warmth and soft edges.

“Oh, Billie! You’re just in time,” they said, practically sparkling with excitement. “Would you like to stay for tea?”

Billie’s first instinct was to say no, to roll her eyes and mutter some excuse about having other things to do. But something about the way Dove looked at her, eyes wide and hopeful, made her pause. It wasn’t pity; Dove wasn’t looking at her like she was something to be fixed or pitied. It was more like… Dove actually wanted her there.

“Uh… sure, I guess,” she muttered, avoiding Dove’s gaze as she tucked her hands into her pockets. “I mean, might as well, since I’m here.”

Dove’s smile widened, and they clasped their hands together in delight. “Wonderful! I was just about to start on some macarons. Would you mind helping me?”

Billie shifted on her feet, fidgeting. “I’m not exactly a… baking person.”

“That’s okay!” Dove replied, unbothered. “I’ll show you. It’s easy when you get the hang of it.”

With a sigh, Billie shrugged off her jacket and joined Dove at the counter, watching as they sprinkled powdered sugar onto a tray of pastel-colored pastries. Dove was so delicate in their movements, almost reverent as they worked. Billie tried to mimic them, but her hands were clumsy in comparison, smudging sugar over the countertop and making the pastries slightly lopsided.

Dove only chuckled softly, guiding her hands and showing her how to make each one look just right. As they worked, Dove started to ramble on about different kinds of tea, their voice soft and soothing.

“I’ve got all kinds, you know,” they said, eyes sparkling with excitement as they dusted the top of a macaron with a pinch of edible gold dust. “There’s jasmine, oolong, green tea, earl grey… oh, and chamomile, too! It’s a lovely blend if you’re feeling a bit down or need to relax.”

Billie grunted, watching as Dove carefully placed each macaron on a platter. “Not sure any tea can fix what I got going on.”

“Well,” Dove replied softly, “sometimes it’s just the act of slowing down that helps. Taking a moment to savor something warm, something sweet.”

There was a quiet in their words that made Billie’s usual prickliness fade. She felt her guard slip, if only a little, as she leaned over the counter to examine the tea bags Dove had set out.

“Fine,” she muttered, shrugging as if it didn’t matter. “What do you think I’d like?”

Dove tilted their head thoughtfully, studying her with a little smile. “Hmm. Maybe something bold… How about this chai blend? It’s spicy and comforting, with a bit of a kick.”

Billie chuckled. “Yeah, sounds more like my style.”

Dove beamed, setting a pot of water on the stove and letting Billie pour in the tea leaves. The rich, spicy aroma filled the kitchen as the tea steeped, mingling with the smell of freshly baked pastries. The quiet sounds of clinking ceramic and soft laughter filled the room, a stark contrast to the edgy, angry tunes Billie was used to with Jackal.

By the time the pastries were done, Dove had arranged everything on a fine, custom-made ceramic tea set, the delicate cups and saucers painted in soft pastel hues with tiny golden details.

“Got this just for tea parties like this,” Dove explained with a proud smile as they set the table. “Isn’t it lovely?”

Billie raised an eyebrow, a smirk playing at her lips. “Yeah, it’s... not my usual style. But it’s nice.”

Dove giggled, looking pleased as they placed the last of the pastries on a dainty porcelain platter. Just as they finished, Jackal strolled into the kitchen, pausing mid-step as they took in the scene.

“What the hell?” Jackal muttered, eyeing the tea set and pastries with a mix of confusion and mild horror.

“It’s a tea party!” Dove chirped, gesturing for Jackal to join them. “Come on, I made plenty.”

Jackal rolled her eyes but shuffled over to the table, plopping down in one of the chairs. Billie joined them, feeling a strange flutter in her chest as Dove poured them each a cup of the fragrant chai tea.

“Thanks,” Billie muttered as Dove handed her a cup. She took a sip, the warmth spreading through her chest and relaxing her muscles in a way she hadn’t expected.

For a moment, the three of them sat in comfortable silence, sipping tea and nibbling on pastries. Billie had to admit—Dove’s baking skills were nothing short of magical. The macarons melted in her mouth, a perfect balance of sweetness and flavor. She tried to hide her pleasure, but Dove noticed, their eyes sparkling with quiet pride.

“You like them?” they asked softly, almost shyly.

“Yeah, they’re... they’re good,” Billie replied, keeping her tone as casual as she could.

Jackal snorted, popping a whole macaron into their mouth. “Never thought I’d be caught dead at a tea party, but these pastries make it worth it.”

Dove beamed, and Billie felt a warmth in her chest that she hadn’t felt in a long time. It was strange, sitting here with Dove and Jackal, surrounded by softness and sweetness. But it didn’t feel uncomfortable. In fact, it felt… safe. Like she could let her guard down for just a little while.

Dove began talking again, telling them about different tea blends and how each one could influence a person’s mood or bring out certain flavors in the pastries. Billie found herself listening, genuinely interested as Dove explained the intricacies of tea-making with the same passion they’d shown when they talked about their flowers in the greenhouse.

“So, which one’s your favorite?” Billie asked, surprising even herself with the question.

Dove looked thoughtful, a soft smile tugging at their lips. “I think… jasmine. It’s gentle and calming, and it reminds me of the heavenly meadow.”

Billie nodded, taking another sip of her tea. “Sounds... nice. Might have to try it sometime.”

Dove’s face lit up, and Billie felt that strange warmth again, something softening in her chest. She’d never considered herself the type for tea parties, much less for savoring the quiet beauty of moments like this. But here, in this cozy kitchen, with Dove’s pastries and Jackal’s grumbling presence, she felt like she’d found a little pocket of peace in the chaos of Burrowgatory.