Chapter Text
Things start to become a new kind of normal. He trades Jeremy a modified version of a danger sensor ("I'm a horse- I'm basically a couch with anxiety. Be nice to know for once if it's justified") in return for a new sign for the tea shop (Jeremy knows a guy, it's kind of a long story) and starts looking into some kind of high tea deal with the Purple Bed. It's hard work running a small business and even if he doesn't need to eat, someone has to keep Tallahassee fed. People start to bring him bits of warforged they find- chasis, spare parts, battery cells. He gives them what he has- most of his gold went to encourage Mr. Octavio’s overdue retirement, but he can fix things and he's always good for a cup of tea and a chat. Most people are glad to get the left arm out of their garden in time to plant tomatoes. Most people are not assholes.
Autumn has never been most people.
“Look, all I’m asking is a reasonable price. This is like, 98% of a warforged. It’s worth way more than I offered you. This should be in a museum or something, I swear.”
Autumn kicks the warforged lying in an inanimate heap in the middle of the floor of the teashop. Something clunks. Tr8c does his best not to flinch.
“SO THEN DONATE IT TO A MUSEUM. DON’T JUST BRING IT INTO THE TEA SHOP! YOU’RE SCARING OFF MY CUSTOMERS.”
“I think that may just be you, pal.”
“AUTUMN, I SWEAR-”
“Wait, how the fuck did you know my name?”
“UHHHH…”
Autumn’s hand inches towards her dagger. Oh right, she actually is still in the assassin’s guild.
“I’ve killed a lot of warforged in my time, Salmon or whatever your name is. I’ll ask you one more time. How the fuck did you know my name?”
Tr8c only panics a little bit.
“YOU WERE ON THE BACHELORETTE! I LOVE THAT SHOW, I WATCH IT IN RERUNS EVERY TIME IT’S ON!”
“Oh… really?”
“REALLY! YOU WERE... MY FAVOURITE CONTESTANT?”
“I don’t believe you,” says Autumn, leaning forward encouragingly.
“NO, REALLY! TR8C WAS PRETTY COOL, BUT YOU REALLY STOLE THE SHOW! WAY MORE THAN THAT MOON ELF- WHAT WAS HER NAME? IDARA OR SOMETHING LIKE THAT?”
Autumn laughs a little.
“I totally knew it. Look, Sam-”
“NOT MY NAME”
“- you seem pretty cool,” Autumn continued, uninterrupted. “I’ll give you the warforged for just 100 gold.”
“I’LL PAY 50 AND YOU DON’T HAVE TO TOUCH THEM AGAIN.”
Autumn hesitates.
“I’LL THROW IN A CUP OF THE LAVENDER TEA I JUST GOT FROM THE GREAT GREEN,” Tr8c offers. Autumn nods, once.
As he makes the cup of tea (steep for two minutes, stir three times counterclockwise and add just a drop of spring honey), he tries to avoid looking at the warforged that was still lying in the middle of the tea shop. It doesn’t work.
The tea shop is nearly empty when Autumn sits down- most of the regulars have already been through and Charlie won’t get off work until later in the evening. Mr. Octavio is sitting in the armchair next to the window with a pot of green tea that could probably use refreshing, snoring lightly over a copy of “Becoming” by the Speaker. He was glad of it- it was one thing for his customers and neighbours to know him as a warforged and another for them to watch him lift the remains of the warforged over his shoulder with the ease only a 23 strength check can provide and haul it upstairs.
They knew he wasn't human, of course they did. They also knew he wasn't alive. He just didn't like to remind them of it when it could be avoided. Evenhere, far away from the remains of the capital, there were a lot of bad memories.
The rest of the day passed in a bit of a blur. Jim brought his sewing circle in, like he did every Wednesday (was it already Wednesday? It didn't feel possible) and Stacey's wife got home from a conference outside of town and just had to stop by to pick up a tin of Stacey's favourite blend as a surprise. Tr8c closed up half an hour late, well after sundown, with no cleaning done beforehand to speak of. Of course.
Autumn had left hours ago, but her presence seemed to linger. Not just in the glyph she'd carved into the doorway either (either "safety" or "safe:tea", if he remembered the thieves cant Inara had shown him on a particularly long road trip). It felt like she was still... there.
Which was why, when she jumped up when he opened the door to the little upstairs apartment, he didn't shoot her. It was close, though. Closer than he'd like.
"What are you going to do with it?" she asked.
"WAIT, WERE YOU JUST WAITING HERE THE WHOLE TIME? IT'S BEEN HOURS SINCE YOU LEFT THE TEASHOP."
"No! I went off and did some cool secret business but now I'm back. Answer the question."
"I'M GOING TO PUT THEM, OR AT LEAST WHAT'S LEFT OF THEM, TO WORK."
"Wow. That's cold."
"IS IT? WHEN THEY WERE... ALIVE, THEY HAD NO CONTROL OF THEIR LIFE. THEY WERE WERE USED TO HURT PEOPLE AND TO MAKE THINGS WORSE BY SOMEONE WHO DIDN'T EVEN CARE THAT THEY EXISTED. THEY WERE A TOOL. I CAN'T BRING THEM BACK AND I CAN'T CHANGE WHAT HAPPENED TO THEM. BUT I CAN GIVE THEM A PURPOSE. THEY CAN HELP PEOPLE AND... I DON'T KNOW IF WHAT THEY WOULD HAVE WANTED, BUT I KNOW IT'S WHAT I WOULD WANT.”
“Okay,” says Autumn. “That’s… I can live with that.”
There’s an awkward pause. Autumn shifts her weight.
“Need an extra set of hands?”
“YOU KNOW WHAT? I THINK I THAT WOULD BE GREAT.”
Autumn leaves before he wakes up the next morning. He comes down the back stairs to find the green tea set to brewing and a note on the pillow of the guest cot that just says “Thanks”. Upon closer examination, all of his lavender tea from the Great Green has also gotten up and walked away.
“I PROBABLY SHOULD HAVE SEEN THAT COMING,” he mutters to himself as he got the kettles going. The new additions to the shop are subtle, for now. New brass heating elements to heat the urns faster and keep them warm longer, a new bell above the door. Nothing big quite yet. But it was enough for today.