Disclaimer: So I added two in one. Yay. Time for some fluff. Also, I kind of switched it up a little but nonetheless, still the same concept. Anyways, hope you guys enjoy.

—

It is late in the afternoon when Little Miss Pain In His Ass comes strolling into his office, a silver plate in one hand and a porcelain tea-cup in the other—her mouth bent downwards and her brows knitted into a slight curve. She is particularly not in the brightest of moods, he notices while he scrutinizes her profile from top to bottom. But then again, when is she ever?

Oh right, around Jaeger.

Always around Jaeger.

Jaeger this. Jaeger that.

Pushing aside his thoughts, Levi clears his throat and raises a brow, attempting to hide the small tilt of his lips when she offers him a glare in return. "Is there something I can do for you?" He asks, though his voice is anything but serious.

"No." She replies, grimacing. Her face tells him that she's struggling, as if she's forcing herself to speak. The crinkle in her nose and the way the corners of her lips twitch, gives her away.

Is she constipated? He muses, disgusted.

"But there's something I can do for you." She finishes her earlier statement.

And without so much as an explanation, she's suddenly—oh so goddamn suddenly, charging up to him, eyes narrowing, and hands slamming roughly down against his desk with the silver tray and the almost spilled(God have mercy he would have lost his cool if even a drop landed) tea-cup against the wooden surface.

Taken aback, Levi glances at her, confused and partly agitated at her little tantrum. "What the fuck are you doing Ackerman?" He demands, standing up.

She doesn't say anything. However, she fidgets her fingers and nods her head towards his desk.

And honestly, it doesn't take a genius to understand what she was referring to.

"This?" He points.

She nods.

Sighing, he looms over his desk and observes the black liquid swirling inside the tea-cup.

"What the hell is this?"

"Tea."

"What kind?"

"There's different kinds?" She asks.

"No shit." He says, and she glares at him once again. "Tea varies from different types of herbs. There's many. Lots. But I for one, prefer Chamomile out of all of them."

There's a slight pause before she shuffles her feet and lifts the cup up to his view.

"Drink it." She insists.

He shakes his head.

"Not a chance."

"I made it."

"Exactly why the answer is no."

"It's good."

"I highly doubt it. Considering you have no knowledge of tea to begin with." He narrows his eyes.

"I grounded it myself." She explains, as if she's proud of making such a sorry excuse of a drink. "So accept it." And there's venom behind her words.

Levi exhales sharply. He debates for a moment, but then decides, what the hell, what's the worst that can happen?

And after one promising sip, to his latter mortification, it's far more worse than what he had imagined. He is not exaggerating either. Because even a person who is capable of making this, is surely capable of killing off an army of men.

"Come." Is all he says, before he's pushing her out of his office and towards the kitchen of the main building.

—

"Why are we here?" She gives him a cold stare.

Because you're lacking in the department of brewing simple tea, He thinks, annoyed.

Though, he adjusts his lingering thought into his own(Levi) language instead.

"Because Ackerman," he grits between his teeth— he walks towards the cabinets and reaches for the hot pot and the strainer, "I'd rather gouge my insides out, than to take another sip of your goddamn failure of that so-called brewed tea." He cringes, slowly recalling the taste of the horrid liquid.

She hisses—or curses at him. Probably both, he thinks. Not that he was really paying any attention to her.

"Listen well Ackerman and watch closely." He eyes her. "Patience is key when making the most perfect afternoon tea." He explains, confidently.

She doesn't respond, but he takes her silence as a gesture to continue on.

"First and foremost, we need 2-3 teaspoons of dried Chamomile flowers." He shuffles through the shelves and pulls out a small bag of his most favorable herbs. He then grabs a cup from the counter and lightly, fluidly, works his hands as he places a desirable amount directly inside.

Mikasa just stares, bored and completely uninterested by his teaching.

Like she has better things to tend to, he scoffs to himself.

He ignores her completely and approaches the hot pot—checking the temperature once and then waiting on standby for a few minutes before lifting the steaming pot and tilting it ever so slightly into the cup.

The water slowly glides out from the spout and before they realize it, the sweet and oh so enticing aroma begins to fill the room—fullfilling and of course, accepted by both soldiers.

Levi simply inhales and closes his eyes to the calm temperament. He reaches for the silver tea-spoon to his left and begins to stir the heated liquid in slow measured movements, while slipping away into moderate gratification.

After a few minutes, a short smile tugs at the edges of his lips and in truth, he feels like he's in heaven. Or something close to the damn thing.

As if amused by this gesture, Mikasa stifles a short laugh and coughs roughly to cover it up.

Levi, however, catches on and narrows his eyes at her. "Something funny?"

"Nope." She replies, and then continues to disregard him.

He makes a 'tch' noise with his tongue and leaves the brewed tea unattended to settle itself while they wait.

Using this time of leisure, he makes his way towards Mikasa and sits nonchalantly beside her—ignoring her death glares and side of protests when he does.

She should know by now that he is not the type of man to listen to her constant 'promised' threats and her overly used nicknames—to which he usually makes certain she is dealt with after insulting him by handing her a long list of cleaning chores and a day spent of steering clear of Jaeger.

This usually shuts her up and keeps his schedule Ackerman-free.

But when it does, he realizes how utterly lonely it gets when she's gone and how strangely settled his chest feels when she appears again.

Hn.

Minutes pass by and his mind racks up with an idea. Testing the waters, he nudges the scornful woman beside him with his elbow and as expected, she nudges him back—but instead, harder and with much more force.

Point taken, he glares and then he is back to staying still.

They sit silently, neither of the two bothering to spark up a conversation.

Truthfully, that was the subtle structure of their relationship as superior and subordinate. Not that he minded the bitterness of it. If anything, he enjoyed it.

But of course, it will be years long before she gets to hear any sort of compliment from his mouth.

—

After much and many minutes later, Levi finishes off the final process by grabbing the strainer from the surface of the counter, carefully—with precise movements, adjusting it just gingerly above the porcelain tea-cup, he tenderly tilts with the slim of his fingers, and pours the hot cup prior from before(containing the herbs)above it—letting the warm liquid seep through the tiny cracks.

He begins to inhale slowly, giving himself a moment of peace, before taking a small sip and murmuring how much of a success it is.

Perfect.

Adding a squeeze of lemon, he takes another sip and nods his head in delight.

This is how tea is made, he muses, satisfied.

Though to his abrupt realization, the moment he turns his body around, he notices the female soldier resting her head against the backside of her chair—her legs promptly folded and her scarf supporting her head as a pillow.

Levi narrows his eyes in disbelief. He wonders if the spiteful woman was even paying attention to anything he was accomplishing inside the kitchen. Probably not. Assuming it was Mikasa, in the first place.

Such a stubborn brat.

Sighing, he places down the cup and strides languidly over to her sleeping form— leaning in just slightly, and taking note of the way her lips part and come together, as if she's eating something within her dream.

If you keep on making that face, I won't control myself from kissing you, he smirks in thought.

Just kidding.

He slides the length of his arm around the nape of her neck, hooking it, and then using his other free limb to clutch her crossed legs. Slowly, he lifts her body up steadily in his arms(princess style), making certain she doesn't wake up as he pivots his heels and make his way out the door and towards her room.

She smells like cinnamon. Or rather, pine. Mixture of the two. Still very pleasant for a goddamn brat, he thinks, inhaling her scent.

—

After enduring hushed whispering and side glances from passing soldiers, he finally approaches the threshold of her room— opening the door, and cursing under his breath as he over examines how dirty and unsanitary the enviroment is. Bloody hell. He is definitely going to issue 'Cleaning Day' in order for the recruits. Make that a goddamn whole week.

This is disgusting.

Stumbling over scattered clothes and trash (God knows what this shit is), he finally reaches his destination— assuming that it's her bed, he gently, with caution, settles her sleeping body on top of the white sheets.

He then clutches the bundle of blankets from the side and tucks her body in with ease, making certain that not even an inch of her skin is exposed to the cool air.

Satisfied, he gives her another longing look before surprisingly—considerately leaning in and leaving a quick kiss atop of her forehead.

What the hell are you doing? He thinks, surprised, but mostly, mortified at his doing.

He rubs his hand over his face a few times before sighing. He shouldn't have done that. Assuming the chances of her waking up and catching him in the act.

"H-heichou?"

Levi whips his head around to the familiar voice and narrows his eyes at the doorway.

"What are you gaping at Braus?" He asks, annoyed. "If you're interested in why I'm here, though it's none of your concern, it's because of this thing." He nods his head towards the lump on the bed. "She fell asleep. I took the courtesy of bringing her back here."

Sasha glances over to the side of the room and nods nervously. "Mikasa right?"

"Clearly."

"I see…"

He takes this as his cue to leave and stands up from the edge of her bed.

"Clean this damn mess up. And make sure not to wake her in the process." He orders, before moving past her and making his way out the barracks.

It's until he reaches the threshold of his office that he realizes the short tug on his lips and the sudden redness in his cheeks.

I'm not affected, he reminds himself.

—

"Heichou."

Levi glances up from the array of paperwork on his desk—his ears perking up just slightly to the familiarity in the voice.

"Ackerman."

They both stare at each other for a moment, onyx eyes meeting steel-blue.

Mikasa is the first to break the silence. "Erm. Tea."

"Come again?"

"Your tea."

He broods for a moment, confused, but then glances at her hands. Oh.

"Come." Is all he says.

She obliges reluctantly and strides over to where he's seated at, using her free hand to hoist up the scarf around her mouth. Typical.

When she reaches his desk, she stands and ponders for a moment.

"Give it here." He sighs, waiting to get this test-tasting over with. "The cup." He demands.

But she doesn't budge. Instead, she pulls down her scarf and swallows a mouthful of the tea.

"Oi, what are you—mmf!"

And before he has time to process the situation, she's already leaning over his desk—grabbing him by his cravat, and pressing her flushed lips against his, using the tip of her tongue to pry open his mouth, and holy hell, feed him the tea she had taken in earlier by the mouth.

What the fuck. What. The. Fuck. WHAT THE FUCK.

A few seconds later, he's finally done tasting the tea(her); Mikasa backs away from him immediately and gives him a smug smirk.

"That's for yesterday." She explains.

And she's out the door, rendering him speechless with widened eyes.

It takes him a moment to recuperate from the kiss, but when he does,the corners of his lips tilt upwards.

Afternoon tea never tasted so damn good, he thinks, licking his lips.

—

[Fin]