milk with butterscotch and cinnamon

The knock on the door to Gaster's lab was firm and decisive. Not recognizing whose knock it was, he pinched shut the hose he'd been using as a titration valve and said "Enter!"

Despite the knock, the door swung open carefully and slowly, and --

Huh.

"Gaster," Jun said, eyes downcast. How was she supposed to continue that statement? She'd intended to discuss the fight they never had, but the words would not leave her throat.

Gaster stepped forwards. "Jun. How have you been?"

"Well enough," Jun said. "You?"

"Surprised but pleased." He fiddled with a bit of something in his hands. "You actually took up my offer."

"I have... things to ask you." The questions crowded her mind. Why hadn't he fought her? He'd cheated her out of being able to fairly earn her position. Instead he was here, messing about with glassware.

It must have shown on her face, because he frowned. "It's all right to be angry, if you want to. You have good reason to be."

"At you? But what if I lose control?"

Ah. It was about last time after all. "I'm not worried. I promise I can at least handle myself, and we're not in an arena. But if you need some more help -" He turned to her. "Do you like butterscotch?"

"I have had it before," Jun said, taken aback. What was his game? Regardless, she would be diplomatic. "It is... very sweet."

"Ah, so your mother didn't routinely give it to you. Excellent." He rang a bell and said something she couldn't decode into a tube set into the wall, then walked over to an empty counter and pulled out two stools. "Let's sit over here."

"Thank you," she said, carefully.

They talked about niceties while waiting - how had her journey here been, wasn't the weather unfortunate, they both disliked rain - and then a second bell rang.

Gaster reached over with a floating hand and opened the doors to a niche in the wall she hadn't noticed was there, and withdrew two mugs with spoons inside. He carried the mugs to them.

"Hot milk with butterscotch melted in. A Justeco specialty. It's too hot to drink right now, so we'll need to wait a moment."

"Thank you," she said, and took it. The mug was warm and fragrant and tempting, but he'd said not to, so she didn't. So... what was his game?

He turned to her, and finally asked the question she had been waiting for. "So what did you want to talk about?"

"I." Swallow it. She was here to gather information. That was all. "I had some questions about your powers."

"Yeah?"

"What was that giant fist thing? Roman doesn't have that manifestation." She'd been drilled on every inch of Roman's magic, on the assumption that Gaster would have had similar.

"That's my mother's magic."

Roman had cheated! No. Swallow it. Be thankful that she hadn't had to face him. "It is very impressive."

"Did I say something wrong?"

"No, no, it's fine," she said, quickly. "It's nothing. Let's move on."

"Make sure to stir the butterscotch in," he said, abruptly, demonstrating. "It tends to settle."

That was her cue. She stirred the mug and brought it to her beak. The sweetness of the butterscotch melded with the milk - there was just enough to make it pleasantly sweet, rather than cloying like butterscotch candy. A dash of cinnamon added a fragrant note.

"How do you feel?"

"It's... very good...?"

"You can interfere with this kind of - emotional upwelling, as it were - by using an entirely different sensory experience. Did it work?"

Huh. "...Yes. Surprisingly."

"It's a trick I figured out. To talk about this kind of thing more safely."

He'd outsmarted her! "This was your plan to keep me from fighting you again, wasn't it."

"There are ways I can keep myself and my friends safe that don't involve any violence at all," he said, with a tiny smile. "This is one of them."