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Tea Mug Facade (U-2048 x NT-4201 Scenario)

Warnings: Slight fluff, implied U-2048 x NT-4201)

Anonymous Request: CAW: 2048/4201 (platonic or shippy) 2048 finds himself sharing a table in the liver with 4201 who is caring for a sleeping 3803 who's head is in her lap. She wants him to stay to keep anyone from bothering them and 2048 quickly finds his cool facade does not work on the blunt prodigy who has little filter to her intimidating observations. Still, she's kinder then she looks and the two find out maybe they're similar (2048 insecure about not being perfect, 4201 feeling weak under pressure).

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After a series of hectic missions and patrols, U-2048 thought that he was long overdue for some quality time in the liver. Cells like himself didn’t have enough time for vices, but whenever he did manage to get himself some free time, he quite liked hanging around the pretty hepatocytes. After bidding his squad goodbye, 2048 quickly tracked down to the liver, his mood in high spirits as he looked forward to spending the rest of the cycle getting pampered by the famed hostesses.

As he passed through the establishment’s doors, he found himself instantly relaxing. Due to the nature of the body, he wouldn’t have been surprised if a bacterial invasion were to occur while he was off duty. Once it was quite clear that bacterial invasions weren’t on the body’s agenda for now, he slipped inside and found himself marveling at the familiar setting.

Numerous tables were filled with cells of all sorts. Chief among them were red blood cells and a few immune cells, some of whom he had worked with. Just as he was about to head to the bar, one of the red blood cells at a far off secluded corner caught his eye.

She was tall and had a face that looked like it was common for her to look either placid or scowling instead of smiling. On the table, her standard issue beret that was common for red blood cells to wear lay next to a pastry and a mug of tea. It took a couple more seconds to realize that the red blood cell that had caught his attention was the mentee of that one erythrocyte that liked to hang out around U-1146.

What was her name again? AE-3803?

She was a bright little thing, a quaint little abnormality in the body, but one that surpassed all expectations. The cell in the liver, though, was the picture perfect representation of what a red blood cell should be like.

It was such a shame that 2048 didn’t know her any better; he liked having someone to talk to if the hepatocytes were swamped by work.

As soon as he was about to avert his gaze, though, the red blood cell managed to find him. She said no words and made no gestures, but simply kept his attention with narrowed eyes and pursed lips.

Well, any company was good company.

Plus… 2048 was on amiable, if distant terms with 3803. If there was one thing that he learned from spending time with 1146, it was that getting exposed to the other side of life in the body was a good reminder why they were chosen as defenders.

(There was also the added benefit that this young lady cell was easy on the eyes).

Keeping his strides long and purposeful, 2048 tried to look carefree and welcoming as possible. The thing is, with civilian cells, you needed a gentle hand with them. Most of his coworkers often came across as too overwhelming, especially when in the throes of their receptors getting signaled by bacteria. 2048 wasn’t any better, but he knew that it was best to approach slowly and with a demeanor that didn’t scream bloodlust and single minded determination.

However, as much as 2048 expected the blood cell to demur or look abashed at his advancing presence, her stare did not waver. She looked rather bored, but she did nothing to veer him off course.

Finally, when he reached her booth, he saw that the red blood cell wasn’t on her own. With her head resting on her mentee’s lap, 3803 slept like a young cell fresh from getting differentiated in the hematopoietic strains.

“Rough day?”

Every cell had their rough days, but 2048 was sympathetic all the same. While immune cells could afford to have a semblance of a break in between missions (hectic as they were), red blood cells were on their feet and running without stopping. The only time they were ever at rest was whenever they were collecting or depositing packages.

“You could say that.” The younger red blood cell took a sip out of her mug tea with one hand while the other carefully petted the wayward curls atop 3803’s head. A quick glance at the beret that lay on the table revealed that the cell’s designation tag was NT-4201.

Huh, talk about new.

Fixing a charming smile on his face, he leaned on the booth and asked, “Would you like me to make things better?”

It wasn’t one of his finer lines, but to be frank, it was a trying day. Battles were won, yes, but the fact that bacterial invasions were a sight too common during the cold season, which rankled everyone's nerves.

“Yes.”

2048 blinked.

“W-wha—”

“You heard me. You want to make things better, I won’t object. Sit here and make yourself useful.”

Stunned and embarrassed beyond all belief, the white blood cell immediately took her suggestion and took the seat opposite her. The last time someone had the courage to talk to him like that, it was his mentor during his myelocyte days. Had she been hiding all of that spine? Or was she always that blunt?

To say that he was flabbergasted by her straight and honest response to his flirtations was an understatement.

“…and how do I make myself useful?”

4201 took another sip of her tea. “Keep the hostesses happy and away from me.” At his bewildered expression, she elaborated—albeit, a little reluctantly and with a sense of remorse. “Most of them are under the impression that my mentor is ill. She’s not,” her tone becoming slightly defensive, “and I tried telling them, but most of them are coming around like the macrophages that used to baby us back in the bone marrow. It’s annoying.”

A deterrent.

That’s what he was.

He tried another quip. “So I’m not here because of my devilish good looks?”

4201 blank stare could level entire buildings and obliterate the RNA in bacteria.

She took another sip of her tea as if to ready the next scathing reply.

“I need something to distract myself while my mentor sleeps.”

Was she…? Is he…?

For the first time since he started talking to her, 2048 dropped all pretense and simply asked. If being coy was only going to end up with him reeling with more questions than he could ever hope to answer, he would have to play it straight.

No charades.

“I don’t get it.” He leaned into the palm of his hand and peered at 4201 closely. Most cells would have quivered at his scrutiny, but she took it like she had been handed a package of carbon dioxide—with banal interest. “Are you flirting with me?”

He watched as she daintily lifted a hand to her mouth, her jaw tensing slightly before she breathed in deeply. It took a second, but then he realized that she was hiding a yawn. It would have been amusing, but now 2048 was just concerned.

Thankfully, 4201 decided to give him the same treatment. All honesty, full transparency.

“A little bit, yeah. You seemed a bit anxious, so I decided to play along for a bit.”

The neutrophil blanched. “I don’t get anxious.”

One of her eyebrows arched up near her hairline, the disbelief in her gaze all too obvious.

“Every time I’ve spoken to you in the last five minutes, you fidget and flex your fingers before answering me. Even now, you’re taking what I say and dissecting everything like you want to make every subsequent response perfect.” She brushed a finger over the rim of her mug, her gaze dropping to the contents before making eye contact with him again. “If it makes you feel any better, I don't do too well in stressful environments either.”

It was a shame that 4201 wasn’t differentiated as an immune cell. Her eyesight alone would have been a great asset. Not to mention her reasoning.

But that didn’t mean that he was going to comment on the fact that she knew that he was nervous. Hah! As if he would ever admit that there were times when he had little faith in his abilities in and out of the battlefield.

So, like any good warrior worth their salt, he decided to latch onto his opponent’s weak point and attack.

“I can’t imagine running around the body never gets any less stressful.” He shuddered just to think about it. “Don’t you guys have deadlines and quotas to fulfill?”

“Oh?” She seemed confused, as if not exactly hearing his question before collecting herself. “Those are fine. It’s when the body decides to shut down on itself that stresses me out.” She tapped her mug on its handle. “That and well… sitting here kind of stresses me out too.”

2048 had to process that.

The seemingly unflappable and serious 4201 wasn’t as strong or as resilient as he thought she was? True, he may have never interacted with her often, but he always had the sense that she had so many things under control. From the way 3803 would tell it, her mentee was the best that the body could offer. Always studious, hard working, and by the book.

“Really? You always seemed sort of… perfect to me.”

She smiled. It wasn’t as bright or as warm as any other smiles that he had seen before in his life, but it was genuine.

“I’ve been pretending to drink tea for the past thirty minutes so I won’t have to talk directly to the hostesses.”

When 2048 leaned over to glance at her cup, he saw that the porcelain only held the leftover dregs at the bottom.

He couldn’t help himself; he laughed.

“You want to know a little secret?” At her hesitant nod, he bit back a grin. “Sometimes, I’m not as perfect as I think I am.”

“Mr. Neutrophil!” Her eyes wide, she clutched a hand against her chest. “No!”

“Oh, yes.” He nodded sagely. “Dare I say that even I make a fool out of myself in front of pretty cells.”

A beat.

And they both erupted into laughter.

Later on, 3803 would awake, bleary eyed and confused with only the knowing and conspiratorial smiles to answer her questions.

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