Another week, another Wonderful 101 fic bunny pops into my head. It came to me in a dream where it was just a voice saying 'you need to write this pairing, it is what you must do', even when I'd never considered pairing him up before.

This one is actually set during the game, during Operation 008A…Kinda. Even though there was absolutely no time for this to happen in game, let's just pretend that 1: The Virgin Victory was following the W100 on a linear and safe enough path to be left for a few minutes, and 2: That there was a much longer time between Red and the others being dropped off and Vorkken escaping from the sick bay (or rather being found to have escaped by Shirogane). If we think that everything will be just fine ^^;

Oh well, on with the fic!

Spot of Tea

When he heard the doors to whatever lay outside this sick bay opening again, Vorkken very much expected it to be that excitable scientist fellow from earlier coming back. Soon after Blunder-Red and the others had left, he had worriedly hurried off without any warning. Of course, why would they tell him anything of what could be happening elsewhere? They may have risked their lives to save his, but that did not mean they trusted him, and with good reason. And besides, they wanted him to be resting, while they continued in opposing GEATHJERK.

Blunder-Red's tenacity was admirable, in a sort of way, he reminded him of when he was younger, the him from a time long ago, when he'd shared the same determination in everything. But what if there was no hope, how could he be expected to simply—wallow here while they continued resisting an army so much greater than themselves, especially now that Immorta was with them. Rhullo had fallen when she was naught but a child; he had promised to keep her safe, and there she was now, allied with the Warriors of Dearth. Still, while he was confined here he could do very little besides see whoever was coming to visit him.

As he pushed himself up from his less than comfy sick bay bed, he saw that it was a woman. He slung his legs over the bed's edge as he watched her approach. He probably wasn't in the best state inside or out; his Vanzen suit was damaged terribly, and he probably should try to take the other side of his broken mask off, but before he could she'd already spoken, and he thought better of it for the sake of not looking like he was ignoring her.

"I hope you are feeling better." Her voice contained no such warmth of a hope, flat and factual sounding, but there was no reason for her to be lying. "Commander Nelson believes that everyone on his ship should be provided with tea, even patients." Patient, not prisoner, he thought, do they trust me, even after all I have done? There were no guards posted here, and this woman did not looked armed in anyway. She was carrying a tray, it holding two cups and spoons, a small jar, a bowl, and some sort of cube. "He would not approve of the cube teapot, but given the possible turbulence, it is necessary."

"Tea? That sounds fascinating." The GEATHJERK's Guide Book entry on Dearth had spoken of a tea-related obsession among some of its population, one of the only similarities to Rhullo it seemed, but the deeper intricacies of it remained to be seen. Still, he was curious. "Thank you, miss…

"MacGregor. Alice MacGregor, CENTINALS Planetary Secret Service."

"Malice? A lovely name. It is a pleasure to meet you, lady Malice. I am Prince Vorkken."

"Yes, Red and the others spoke of you." Yes, and most likely all the atrocious things he'd done. And yet she did not look upon him with any sort of scorn, or any other sort of emotion, really.

She set the tray down at the foot of the bed, arranging the two teacups she'd brought and picking up the teapot. By the sound of it, the odd white cube decorated with a deep blue was not how normal teapots on Dearth were meant to be. That being said, at least with a completely flat base there was no possibility of it overbalancing and making a mess. How resourceful.

It was only while she was holding the teapot and pouring the steaming water through a strainer and into the two cups that Vorkken noticed that there was a patch of black covering her hand, ending at her wrist.

She is wearing a glove, he thought, but only the one. How peculiar.

"I must return to my post on the bridge soon. It is imperative that the Virgin Victory remains close to the Wonderful 100 during their mission." Virgin Victory? That must have been the name of wherever he was, the ship he was on.

"Ah, you pilot this vessel?"

"Yes." She didn't look at him at all, saying nothing more than the dismissive confirmation to his question, as if she would have been content to let all conversation end then and there.

If lady Malice was going to be so stubborn he had half a mind to make the tea himself, even with no knowledge of how the people of Dearth made their tea, but he hadn't much of the strength. Even so, he couldn't bear to let such an awkward silence settle between them. Tea was meant for provoking conversation, was it not?

"It is a very fine ship, indeed. I am certain you perform your duty to perfection. I am also a pilot; I designed my own ship too- the Meizerr. She was wonderful, only a few days ago I finished painting a model of—but she's gone now." Oh, his Meizerr, in a hundred years they had never been apart, and even before then, designing it when he was one hundred and fourteen, they had been inseparable. They'd be apart forever now. She was probably a heap somewhere; in that cavern of ice…It was like she was home again.

"I understand the value of One's ship." She murmured it suddenly, in between dropping smaller white cubes into the water. Plop, plop, plop. Two in one cup, one in the other. The little cubes bobbed in the water, slowly dissolving. "As pilot, I spend all of my time here." She stirred the cups with their own separate tiny spoons.

"Losing a ship is a terrible thing. I hope your ship can survive all that comes to it in this war of yours." In the quiet between them there were only the mechanical whirrs and hums of the ship, not almost silent as the Meizerr could be, but it wasn't too distracting. The Guide Book had spoken of Dearth's technology somewhat too. "Are those triple nuclear pulse engines I hear?"

"Sub-engines, dual nuclear pulse." With her always precise movements, she tipped spots and splashes of something from the jug in each cup, and stirring after. "Our main source is a positron engine." From his vague recollection of the ship, the sub engines weren't close enough for him to be hearing them. All the noise must have been the main engine. Perhaps those were more laboured whirrs, then? Though he had no idea what could have been going on outside, anywhere where Blunder-Red was needed was unlikely to be safe.

She stood up straighter, picking up a cup in each hand.

"Here. English Breakfast Tea." She held out one of the cups on its saucer for him. It might have been the one with two cubes inside it.

"Thank you." Vorkken accept the cup with a grateful, if only polite smile, that wasn't returned, though he hadn't expected it to be. Mindful of the half of his mask that remained, he took a cautious, though still very refined gulp.

Ah, it was hot, a rather pleasant sort of hot, ever so warm and refreshing. It reminded him of the tea long ago, so many Rhulloian winters spent wrapped up in blankets in the icy afternoon, nursing at tea and keeping the cold out. Immorta would complain about how she couldn't practice her bowgun while wearing the mittens she'd knitted. A toy bowgun, despite all her protests of wanting to learn to use a real one even though she was too young. And then there was more recent tea, tea drank with Chewgi, tea they were always running out of. A life spent only caring for power and a want of revenge, a life he could perhaps repent for, eventually.

She was sipping at her own tea, too, looking at some point on the wall behind him. Her headset rang, and she pressed her spare hand against it. "Alice Macgregor here, Sir. Port Sub-Engine at 63% power." She seemed like she was about to salute even when she couldn't be seen, only her teacup preventing it. She settled for nodding. "Roger, returning to bridge." She shot him a very vague look that might have been directed at him. "I must go now. Professor Shirogane will come to collect your teacup soon." She turned away, those heels of hers tapping a little as she headed towards the door.

She could not simply leave like that, so unceremoniously- it was ill fitting for a lady. Maybe he could say something, and chancing it he dared to call after her.

"Thank you for the tea, again. I can see you have a great passion for it, a passion that I both admire and share. Your natural intuition is impeccable. If this is to be the only tea of Dearth I receive, it would have been an honour, for it to have been provided by such as fine a connoisseur of tea as you, lady Malice"

It may have been nothing but a pause, a small, tiny little pause in her step, but still she turned to him, with a cursory, almost sad glance. For that briefest moment, her eyes of frozen glass tinged green, met his own.

"…Thank you." The words were still flat, without any lilt or tone, and then she was gone, but it was enough.

Perhaps, given time, this tea could warm even the frostiest of hearts.

Well, there we go. My crazy random pairing fic. I don't even support this, but it just wouldn't leave me alone ^^; hope it wasn't too terrible. I'd give this pairing a cutesy Pokemon shipping-esque name like TeaShipping, but then people could mistake it for Alice and Commander Nelson, and that would be awkward ^^; Also, there ain't anyone who'd be writing shipping fanfiction for the Wonderful 101 so there's no need to give the ship a name.

I had to have Vorrken get Alice's name wrong, since he gets everyone and everything else's name wrong, besides Immorta and Chewgi, who he really shouldn't bet getting wrong anyway.

Oh yeah, I think Alice is technically older, since she's 28, and Vorkken is 260 in Rhulloian years, which is pretty much 26 ^^;