Favor

Her talk with Reyna still lingers in Sage’s mind.  But she’d be damned if she’d let herself lose sleep from that.  She’s going to rest, and she’s going to do just that right now.

…except she can’t.

She’s been tossing and turning on her bed for who knows how long.  Still, sleep eludes her.  With a sigh, she finally decides to make herself a drink, ‘warm milk with a dash of nutmeg ought to do it,’ to help induce her much needed slumber.

Sage gets up and out of her room and heads to the kitchen.  ‘The kitchen…’ she repeats in her head, and images of unbidden memories flash in her mind.  Sage lets out a loud, frustrated sigh.

“Is everything okay, Sage?” a voice coming from the living room asks.

Sage whips her head towards the sound.  “Killjoy,” Sage starts, “I did not notice you there.”  She says when she sees the tech-wiz seated on the long couch, an array of gadgets surrounding her.  “Yes, everything is alright.”

“Are you sure?  That sigh sounded, mm… heavy.”

“Oh, that is just the exhaustion.  I have had a long day.”  Sage says as an excuse, offering Killjoy a small smile to hopefully help sell it.

“Ah, let me guess, but you couldn’t sleep despite that.  It’s why you’re still up.  Am I right?”  the German asks with a beam.  Everything’s always a test that must be correctly answered when it comes to her.  ‘It is that inquisitive mind,’ Sage thinks, finding it endearing.

The healer chuckles.  “Yes.  I was headed to the kitchen to have some warm milk.  Would you like one as well?” the healer offers.

Killjoy visibly perks up.  “Would I?”  She asks rhetorically before bounding for Sage.  The two sentinels walk side by side towards the kitchen.

Sage proceeds to get the milk from the fridge, filling a bowl with it.  She then retrieves a saucepan and puts a small amount of water.  She places the saucepan on the stove and boils the water.  Once it has, she lowers the fire and places the bowl of milk on top of the pan.  She uses the time to get the nutmeg, vanilla, cinnamon, and sugar.

“What would you like in your milk?” she asks, turning to Killjoy.  Sage catches her being engrossed with what’s happening.  “I apologize; is this not how you would like yours to be made?”

“Oh no!  It’s not that at all!  I’m just- you’re really amazing at this!” the German exclaims.

Sage chuckles again.  “I am just heating up milk, Killjoy.”

“Yes!  But I never would have thought of using a double-boiler, or a makeshift one for that matter.  I would’ve put the milk straight to the pan.”  The tech-genius informs the healer.

“That could work too.  But this way, you do not risk burning the milk.  Granted, it involves more work.”  Sage says thoughtfully, stirring the milk to keep a layer from forming on top.  “Oh, it is nearly done.  What do you say about trying my recipe?” the healer asks.

“I’d love to!  Please, you do you.”  Killjoy answers enthusiastically.

Sage beams at her, then promptly turns back to the milk.  She puts a dash each of the spices she’s gathered, stirs them in well, and turns the stove off once the bubbles started forming.  She then retrieves two mugs from the cupboard, filling each generously.  She hands Killjoy one, smiling sweetly.  Killjoy carefully, but eagerly, takes the mug with both hands.

The bespectacled sentinel blows on her drink with much force, wanting nothing more than to have a sip.

“Careful.  You do not want to be nursing a burnt tongue, do you?”  Sage tells Killjoy, looking on worriedly.

Killjoy gives her an abashed smile in return.  She then blows on the drink one more time before taking a much-awaited sip.

Sage holds her breath instinctively.  She’s able to keep herself from biting her lower lip in anticipation, though, so her fellow sentinel doesn’t notice her nerves.

Killjoy’s eyes were closed when she took the sip.  They remain so, as she lets the liquid sit in her mouth, savoring every bit before swallowing.

“Is it not to your liking?” Sage asks, now unable to keep herself from worrying her lip.

The German is stood rooted in place.  Her gaze is fixed on the beverage she’s holding.  Then, she mutters something that Sage couldn’t hear despite their proximity.

Sage’s heart starts to sink, thinking of how disappointing her recipe is.

But then she sees Killjoy bring the mug to her lips again to drink.

…the entire thing in one go.

The tech-genius places the mug down on the countertop with quite some force from her exhilaration.  “I love it!” she exclaims, beaming at Sage.  “This is hands down the best nightcap I’ve ever had!  Thank you for introducing me to this!” and her body moves of its own accord to envelop the healer in a hug.

“Thank you.  I am always happy to share recipes and whatnots.”  Sage says, elated from the compliment.  “Here, we can share mine.”  She states, pouring half of the contents of her mug into Killjoy’s own.

Killjoy giddily accepts the mug for the second time.  Before drinking again, though, she moves towards the small kitchen table and pulls up a chair.  “Please,” she says to Sage, motioning the latter to take the proffered seat.

“Thank you,” Sage says as she takes the seat.  Killjoy takes the one next to her, angling her chair so that she and Sage are facing each other.

“I see that you are adjusting well in your time here with us.  I am glad that you are becoming more comfortable with each passing day.”  Sage opens up.

“Yeah, me too.  It was rocky at first, but hey, happens to all rookies, right?  But I’ve found my footing now, so everything’s A-Okay.”

“Yes, I do remember a certain incident between you and Sabine when you were still new here.  She will not tell me what it was about.  Nonetheless, I am glad you two were able to sort it out.”

“Oh, that was just a silly matter.  Don’t worry your pretty head about it.”  Killjoy tells her glibly.  “Besides, that was nothing compared to what Reyna-” Killjoy suddenly slaps a hand over her own mouth, her eyes wide.

Sage’s demeanor changes ever-so-slightly (or so she likes to think).  “What happened with Reyna?”

“Nothing important too.  No need to worry.” The German quickly answers, laughing awkwardly.

“Killjoy,” Sage starts, her tone solemn, “if something has happened, you can tell me.  I am sure I can help you with it.”  She holds her teammate’s gaze, making the latter gulp.

“It’s really not a big deal.  Sometimes, I just can’t help my mouth, and I said something that didn’t sit well with her.”  Killjoy divulges, waving her hands frantically.

“Which was?”  Sage asks in an even voice.

“Well… that, you know, I could ask you out because you’re not spoken for yet.”  Killjoy replies, wincing.

Sage startles, “Oh, that,” a sudden spike shooting in her chest.

“Yes.  That.”  Killjoy repeats, visibly feeling the same.

When the healer has composed herself again, she asks, curiosity flowing within her, “Why would- how did that become your topic?”

Killjoy looks at her quizzically.  “What do you mean?  Isn’t Reyna-”

And something dawns on Killjoy so suddenly that she couldn’t help herself from gasping and blurting out, “You don’t know!”

It’s Sage’s turn to give a confused look this time.  “I do not know what?”

Instead of answering, however, Killjoy places one hand on one of Sage’s shoulder.  With a grave voice, she says, “Sage, please, for my life… please do not ask me what.  This is something you should discuss with Reyna, not me.  Please, I beg you, pretend this entire conversation never happened.”

“I- this is-”

“Please?” the genius pleads again.  And a distinctive voice suddenly resonates within Sage’s head, ‘you, little dove, are everyone’s favorite.’

The healer furrows her brows.  She eventually relents.  “Very well, we never spoke about anything of the matter.”

Killjoy releases a deep breath.  “Thank you,” she says breathily, one hand clutching on her chest.    

“But in return, you must answer this query,” Sage says, throwing a curveball.

“Only if it has absolutely no connection with you-know-who.”  Killjoy, surprisingly, gamely replies.

Sage nods, then asks her question, “Why did you ask me out that time?”

The quirky agent is momentarily rocked by the question.  But she’s quick to get her bearings back and openly answer, “Because you’re beautiful, and I don’t waste shots when I could take them.”  Killjoy replies, grinning at Sage.

Sage is stunned by the answer – by the honesty of it, by the uncomplicatedness of it.  She briefly wishes that all things could be just like that.  But she knows it’s a vain hope.  ‘One matter, in particular, could never be that simple,’ she mutters in her head.

“Oh dear, I am so sorry.  I made you uncomfortable, didn’t I?”  Killjoy asks, abashed.  Sage reaches out by reflex to stop the German’s hand from scratching her nape further, fearing wounds from scratches.

To her credit, Killjoy appears unfazed by the sudden contact.

“No.  I was just thinking of how refreshingly pure you are.  It is like being out in a field of green, with the spring breeze blowing.”  Sage tells her fellow sentinel, giving the latter’s hand a light squeeze before retracting her own.

This time, Killjoy is not unfazed.

“Oh- uh- thank you?” Killjoy says, ducking her head.

Sage tilts her companion’s chin up and offers her a reassuring smile.  Killjoy returns it promptly.

Finding her voice again, Killjoy breaks the silence that has enveloped her and Sage, “Well, I think this is as good a time as any to end the conversation and say goodnight.  I’ve kept you from your sleep long enough.  I wouldn’t want you to become ill from lack of proper rest.”

“As do I.  You should head to bed, too,” Sage echoes.

“I will, right after I do these dishes.”  Killjoy informs Sage, gesturing towards the kitchen implements they used.

Sage moves to collect the mugs, “It will be faster if we do it together.”

Killjoy plucks them from her hands.  “Oh, no, no,” she interposes.  She places the mugs back down and then grabs Sage by the shoulders.  She spins the latter, making her face the kitchen’s exit.  “You already made the drinks.  Let me handle this one.”

Sage turns her head towards Killjoy.  The latter grins.  “Off to bed with you.  Goodnight.”  The tech-wiz says, giving the healer a very light push to prompt her walking.

Sage takes a couple of steps before spinning round to face her teammate again, “Goodnight, Killjoy.”  She smiles, waits for it to be returned, then bounds for her room.