Continuing a thought
Jul. 9th, 2001 10:38 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
mishadayMore on the Qui-Gon/Giles thread:
(When last we left our intrepid heroes, they had just been served... tea.)
The scent of the tea, fresh and strong, hit Giles in a rolling wave, followed quickly by the sweet odors of cream and freshly baked scones. He poured carefully, liquid the color of aged teak, into which the cream blossomed in a white cloud. He wrapped his hand around the cup and leaned back in the chair.
When it was finally cool enough, he drank, consuming the beverage as he was consuming the view, letting the sheer tea-ness of the place sink into his pores. Remarkably, it was only vaguely reminiscent of England, green, but the misty grey of his homeland was transformed to a glittering emerald and gold in the summer sun.
It was a quiet delight to sit there, sipping his tea in the serene company of this Qui-Gon. The moment stretched, as perfect moments do, to fill the time as it passed in a blink. Their tea and scones were gone, crumbs and dark shreds of leaves the only mark of their repast. Qui-Gon picked up both trays and replaced them on the dumbwaiter. Giles sat there for a moment, captured by the spare sweep of the man's robes, the graceful economic movement.
He looked up when Qui-Gon paused in front of him.
(And no - I don't write much at once. 5 pages is like an uber-marathon.)
(When last we left our intrepid heroes, they had just been served... tea.)
The scent of the tea, fresh and strong, hit Giles in a rolling wave, followed quickly by the sweet odors of cream and freshly baked scones. He poured carefully, liquid the color of aged teak, into which the cream blossomed in a white cloud. He wrapped his hand around the cup and leaned back in the chair.
When it was finally cool enough, he drank, consuming the beverage as he was consuming the view, letting the sheer tea-ness of the place sink into his pores. Remarkably, it was only vaguely reminiscent of England, green, but the misty grey of his homeland was transformed to a glittering emerald and gold in the summer sun.
It was a quiet delight to sit there, sipping his tea in the serene company of this Qui-Gon. The moment stretched, as perfect moments do, to fill the time as it passed in a blink. Their tea and scones were gone, crumbs and dark shreds of leaves the only mark of their repast. Qui-Gon picked up both trays and replaced them on the dumbwaiter. Giles sat there for a moment, captured by the spare sweep of the man's robes, the graceful economic movement.
He looked up when Qui-Gon paused in front of him.
(And no - I don't write much at once. 5 pages is like an uber-marathon.)
