Fic: Merlin; Camelot's Sweethearts Part 4; Reel Merlin

[definewisdom]

Part 1
Part 2
Part 3



He woke up the next morning… well more like mid afternoon, in his flat with very little idea of how he got home other than falling into a cab and ordering the driver to go towards the ‘second star to the right and straight on ‘til morning’. Apparently he had decided at some point in the evening that he lived in Never, Never Land, although he was positive that people in Never, Never Land never got headaches as horrible as the one currently pounding through his head, nor did they have mouths that felt as though they had spent the night chewing on dirty socks.

He was halfway to the door, hangover or no hangover, when he realised that he had nowhere to be. He had the day off, sort of. He was at a loose end, and he sat down suddenly on his expensive leather sofa (which he had only bought because Arthur had insisted that his interior designer do Merlin’s place as well and the sofa was the only thing the man had managed to convince him to buy before Merlin had thrown the pretentious pillock bodily out of the door) and stared at the wall opposite him.

His flat looked like a showroom. It was all blank white walls and strategically placed items of furniture with a couple of ‘interesting’ things he had brought back from their travels abroad sitting on the mantelpiece. There were no pictures, no books, nothing other than the bare essentials and a giant mirror on the living room wall that had come with the place.

He had spent a grand total of seven days in the place since he started renting it. He spent most of his life flitting from one place to another with Arthur, and almost all his holidays at home with his mother. He almost forgot the place existed most of the time. But he had considered it vitally important that he have his own place, when he had got enough money for it, so he rented out a flat (better than he had ever hoped he would be able to) just off the student centre of London, and he never lived there. But it was his.

There was a bowl of nuts on the table that he remembered putting out when he had got the place.

Now he thought about it, he didn’t have any nutcrackers.

There was a distinct, familiar buzzing from the pocket of the trousers he had left lying on the floor the night before – the only sign of life in the void that was his supposed home.

He half walked, half crawled to the trousers and spent a good half a minute shaking them in different directions until his phone flew out of the pocket and rocketed under the sofa. It then took another minute for him, with his arm stuck completely under the sofa, his hand groping around determinedly and his tongue stuck out between his teeth before he managed to get a grip on it.

Thirteen messages.

Three were from Gwen, four Morgana – and when had she got his number? – two were from Gaius, all of which asked him if he had got home alright the night before. He quickly answered in the affirmative so that they would stop worrying about him and looked down at the last four, from Will.

Will… there was something about Will that he should have remembered. He sat, in a crumpled heap at the foot of his sofa for a second, thinking as hard as he could, trying to ignore the several regiments of mounted cavalry which were on parade inside his skull. Will was… coming over. He swore, loudly and lengthily at the walls of his flat and the stuffed goat he had found under the sofa, which Gwen ad given him to keep him company when she had found out he had moved in somewhere new.

The one good thing about living in a flat you did not actually live in was that there was very little tidying to do. Once he had bundled up his clothes from the night before into a bag he labelled ‘dry cleaning’, had a shower and changed into a t-shirt and jeans he had not remembered that he owned, he was good to go.

Of course, tidying would have given him something to do.

As it was, he ended up switching the television on and staring blankly at repeats of comedy panel shows for the afternoon on one of those digital channels that no one ever really wanted, but ended up watching anyway.

The cupboards were bare, so he ended up ordering takeaway, and he gave them his mobile number when they asked for it because for the life of him he had no idea what his landline was.

When the buzzer sounded from the front door at half six, he was ravenous and he managed to devour a Chinese meal for two by himself in about twenty minutes and then realised that he probably had not eaten since Saturday lunch time. With some food in him he felt a lot more human and maybe even alive by the time the next buzz came.

“Hey Merlin,” Will’s voice crackled through the intercom.

“Come on up,” Merlin told him, buzzing him through.

He was waiting at the door when Will appeared up the staircase.

“I am having a crap weekend,” he said as soon as his friend walked through the door.

“But it all got better now, didn’t it,” Will said, holding up a pack of beer.

“No alcohol,” Merlin said with a wave of his hand. “I don’t think I could stand it now. Never again, I swear, never again.”

“You said that when we finished secondary school,” Will pointed out, “and when you got your job,” Merlin glared at him, “and when I got accepted into college, and again when your Mum got promoted, and again when…”

“Shut up, Will,” he said flatly.

“Fine, I take it the party last night was awful?” Merlin did not answer, he stalked up to Will, pushed him roughly against the wall and kissed him as roughly as he could.

When he pulled away, Will was blinking slightly.

“That bad, really?” he muttered. “I guess I should take your mind off it then.”

“That would be a good idea,” Merlin told him. Will pulled him back as urgently as Merlin had pushed him a second before. His hands pushed up under Merlin’s t-shirt and tugged it off. Attached together they stumbled towards the bedroom, but didn’t quite make it to the door before Merlin tripped, pulling Will down on top of him and they decided to take what they could get.

***

At some point in the night they made it from the floor of the living room to the bedroom, via the sofa and several doors.

Merlin woke, for the second time running, to his unfamiliar apartment, but unlike the morning before, he was also woken up by the scent of food.

His stomach rumbled noisily as he pushed himself over onto his back and pulled himself up. He heard chuckling from the doorway and blinked blearily over at Will, fully dressed, who had a plate of toast in one hand, and a piece of toast in his mouth.

“You look…” his friend said with another laugh. “Your hair’s all sticking up.” Merlin brought one hand up to comb through it, trying to pull it down. “Breakfast in bed?” Will asked as Merlin was suffering his self-conscious moment.

“Sounds good… where did it come from?” he asked. Will walked over to hand him the plate and shrugged before sitting on the end of the bed.

“I woke up an hour or so ago and I guessed that you might want a little more sleep. I searched the cupboards, but all I found to eat was a mouldy half an orange in the fridge, so I popped down to the shop on the corner and bought some bread, butter, teabags and some milk. Then I found your toaster and made toast… of course if you’re asking in a more general sense, I’d imagine that fields of corn or wheat were involved and other places… and probably a cow or three for the butter.”

“There’s a shop on the corner?” Merlin asked stupidly, staring at the toast in his hand, drowning in butter.

“Yes,” Will said, smirking a little.

“I have a toaster?”

“I was surprised too,” his friend said with a shrug, “but not as surprised as I was when it managed to make a pile of toast without blowing up. You really need a new one. That one’s so old it’s got to be a health and safety issue.”

“Right…” Merlin muttered again, taking a bite of toast. Will laughed and stole another piece from the plate before standing up again and heading for the door.

“It’s okay, if I use the shower, isn’t it?” he asked. Merlin nodded, making an affirmative grunt around his mouthful of toast. Will disappeared before Merlin thought of something and he called him back quickly. “What?”

“There isn’t soap,” he said, apologetically. Will just laughed.

“If there wasn’t any food, I wasn’t holding out hope for anything else.” He disappeared again and Merlin stuck his tongue out at the empty door.

Will finished off his shower quickly and Merlin took his turn, ducking in. He was just coming out when he heard the doorbell go and he hurried out, towel fixed firmly round his waist to see who could be looking for him. It was probably Jehovah’s Witnesses.

Will was heading for the door when Merlin emerged, and he took a moment to smirk at him lewdly before continuing.

“I’ll get it,” he said.

“Tell whoever it is to go away,” Merlin said. He did not feel in the mood to entertain visitors of any persuasion. He heard Will open the door, and then there was silence. Confused, he walked over to peer around the corner at whoever it was. What he saw froze him in place.

At the door, with a look of confusion gracing his features, stood Arthur Pendragon. In front of him, wearing only boxer shorts, Will was standing stock still, one hand clenched around the door handle as though debating whether to slam it closed.

“I’m sorry,” Arthur stammered, “I was looking for someone else. I’ll just…”

“Arthur?” Merlin said, coming out from round the corner, completely forgetting that the only thing he had on was a towel. The film star’s eyes flashed to him immediately and he flushed a brilliant red. Merlin had never seen Arthur blush before. It was really quite endearing, or it would have been had Merlin not been exceedingly mad at the man.

“He’s busy,” Will said in a hard voice, moving to close the door. Without even bothering to say anything, Arthur ignored him and pushed into the apartment, leaving Will glaring at his back. He stared at Merlin and Merlin stared back, suddenly aware that he was very cold and mostly naked, and really quite wet. A drop of water dripped from his hair onto his back and he shivered as it ran slowly in a cold line down his spine.

Arthur looked as though he was about to say something: his mouth opening and shutting again and again. His utter inability to say anything was another first in Merlin’s knowledge of him,and he stored away the moment for future reference. If he had known walking around wet and mostly naked would shut the man up, he would have done it years ago.

“Look,” Merlin said after a few more moments of awkward silence. “Why don’t you stay here and I’ll be back in a minute.” He turned to head for the bedroom, but paused in the doorway to turn back. “Just don’t kill each other, okay?”

As soon as he was in his room he closed the door and leant back against it heavily. It took him a moment of complete blind panic before he remembered that he was there to do something and he should really get back out before Will decided that Arthur would look better without a head, or something.

He searched the drawers and cupboards for a set of clothes that didn’t smell of sex and Will and eventually found some lurking at the back of a drawer. Then, as soon as he looked a little less… unprepared, he headed back out, into the lion’s den.

Will and Arthur were not talking, but they weren’t killing each other either, so that was a bonus. They seemed to be involved in a terribly important staring contest that Merlin was reluctant to break, but, standing at the end of the sofa, he cleared his throat as loudly as he dared.

“Right,” Will said, standing up and crossing over to him, he leaned over to kiss Merlin hard on the mouth, “I’ll just go and get ready, shall I?” He disappeared into the bedroom with one last long glare over his shoulder at Arthur, and then Merlin and Arthur were left alone. Merlin shifted uncomfortably from foot to foot. He had really hoped that if Arthur ever found out he was gay it would be because he had told him, in some unassuming and tactful way, or maybe because he had figured it out. Being discovered mostly naked with his on again, off again, sometime friend, sometime lover, sometime fuck buddy, had really not been on his top ten list.

“You’re gay,” Arthur said, with dawning comprehension, as though the thought had only just occurred to him.

“Going on five years now… or twenty two, if you believe that it’s genetic, which I’m not sure about personally, but I’ve been out about five years,” Merlin was unsure whether he was being flippant or not, all he really understood was that his mouth was open and noise was coming out.

“You weren’t out to me,” Arthur said, and Merlin wondered why, after having turned up uninvited on Merlin’s doorstep, after having threatened his job the last time they had seen each other and having told Merlin not so long ago that they were not friends, Arthur had the ability to be offended by Merlin not detailing his sexuality.

“Is that an issue?” he asked, trying to maintain the moral high ground, but he could feel it slipping away as he began to realise that Arthur was right there, sitting on his over priced sofa and not looking angry at all, just confused and a little tired.

“No… I mean, of course it’s not. I’m not some kind of fascist, it’s just… you didn’t tell me.” Merlin shrugged.

“It didn’t come up,” he argued back.

“Yes it did,” Arthur said, his voice rising. “The number of times I’ve asked you about girls or girlfriends, or whether you’ve been on a date or whether you were asexual, you never once said ‘Oh, by the way, I like men.’ That’s evasion at best and, at worst, lying.” Arthur shook his head. “We’ll talk about it later.”

“I still have a job then?” Merlin asked.

“Of course you do, haven’t you seen it?” Arthur asked, and Merlin realised, as Arthur stared at him, that he was missing something huge. “You must have seen it, everyone’s seen it. Or were you too busy with… that guy.”

“I’m Will,” Merlin’s friend said, re-emerging from the bedroom, fully dressed. Arthur waved him off as though his name was of little consequence.

“What should I have seen, Arthur?” Merlin asked, taking a step forward, to stand in between the pair of them. Arthur did not answer, just reached out and snagged the remote, turning on the television.

He switched over to a news channel and suddenly his own face was splayed across the screen.

“I’ve always felt…” Arthur’s voice flooded the room until he hit the mute button angrily. Merlin took in a shuddering breath.

“Sophia,” he said. He did not need to look round to know that Arthur was nodding tightly. “Bollocks. How bad?”

“I told her… I told her everything,” Arthur admitted. Will gave a small chuckle and both of the others turned to glare at him.

“What? It’s schadenfreude, I can’t help it,” he protested, holding his hands up in mock surrender. Merlin let out an exasperated sigh before turning back to Arthur. He had to prioritise. The shit had hit the fan and the world would now be gunning for Arthur with both barrels. He sat down next to Arthur and watched the video footage, obviously taken with some sort of hidden camera.

“Okay, first things first,” he said “have you called your lawyers?”

“My father did,” Arthur said, “they’re suing for use of my image without my consent and a hundred other things I can’t remember. It’s the only thing my father’s said to me since it was aired.” Merlin groaned.

“What did she get about him?” he asked, really not wanting to know the answer, except he had to, because no doubt Gaius was going to be on at him for the next week or so about the publicity and limiting the fall out and he would have to know what was going on. “I’m going to have to see the full thing, you know.” Arthur nodded, but refused to look at him.

“Who’s Sophia, anyway?” Will asked. He had idly picked up a handful of nuts and was moving them around in his hand. Arthur did not answer.

“A reporter,” Merlin said, trying to keep to the point, a little ashamed that only yesterday night he had been planning this moment as a glorious I told you so. “Arthur’s ex-girlfriend.”

“How ex?” Will continued, pressing the subject despite Merlin’s glaring. He had either forgotten how to understand the silent instruction to shut the hell up now or was deliberately ignoring it. Merlin was going for the latter. On his other side, Arthur checked his watch.

“Three hours, twenty minutes,” Arthur told him, his voice hard and clinical. Merlin took another deep breath. Three hours ago he should have been on the phone with Gaius making up a plan. He was behind and he needed to catch up fast. Arthur was subdued and unemotional, that was a bad sign. This was exactly the same way he had been before he had decided to go into therapy, blank and controlled until he took out all his anger in some tremendous act of rage.

“You need to go off radar for a while,” he said. “I need to phone Gaius, and Will… don’t you have work today?”

“Got the day off.”

“Nice for some,” Arthur murmured, and Merlin just headed for his phone, hoping that while he was out of the room, one of them wouldn’t explode.

Gaius was not impressed, apparently ‘I was given the day off’ was not a good enough excuse for missing the biggest story of the last three days. The ‘Arthur Pendragon Confessional’ as it was being dubbed by the newspapers, the Internet (the Internet, Merlin moaned down the phone) was everywhere. Reporters were queuing up outside the studio, they were crammed onto the pavement outside the hotel, some were even found inside the hotel by the security guards and escorted out.

It was a circus, and he was about to be thrown into the middle of it.

“He’ll have to make a statement,” Gaius said, “but I can’t see it making much difference. The video will be off the air soon enough, his lawyers will make sure of that, but the Internet coverage means it’ll never go away, and people are just intelligent enough to understand that what he says when he thinks no one is listening is probably more truthful than anyone’s seen him before. Have you seen it? ”

“Not yet, but he says it’s bad.”

“It could be worse,” Gaius told him and Merlin let out a breath he had not known he was holding. “most of what he said is public knowledge, or at least will gain him sympathy. He might have a few strained conversations with Uther and Morgana for a while, and there are some interesting things about you and me.”

“I’ll bear that in mind,” Merlin muttered, reminding himself to store away that information for a time when Arthur was being particularly unreasonable.

“But, to be honest, there are worse people it could happen to. If there were to be a secretly filmed video of Uther, for instance, or several other people, whose names I will not mention, then we’d be fielding lawsuits for slander all over the place. I’m more worried about him.”

“He’s… distant,” Merlin managed, searching for the right word.

“I should think so,” Gais paused for a moment on the other end of the line. “He’s never trusted easily. Sophia’s betrayal is going to cause more lasting problems, I fear.”

“I know… look, when’s the press conference arranged for, because I think after that he should take a week off at an undisclosed location.”

“That would probably be best,” Gaius agreed. “I’ve arranged it for two o’clock at the hotel conference room. I’ll prepare a statement for him to read, something about being appalled at the breach of trust and saddened that anyone should feel the need to go to such lengths to try and get him to incriminate himself. Make sure he looks suitably shaken up. We’re going to have to pull at people’s heart strings.”

“Shouldn’t be an issue,” Merlin assured him before saying his good byes and hanging up. Before heading back into the living room he straightened his shoulders and put on his best smile.

“So,” the word was out of his mouth before he was even fully out of the door. “It’s arranged… press conference at two,” he checked his watch, “and we’d better get a move on if we want to make it on time, then we remove you to an undisclosed location and we wait for the furore to go down and for some starlet or untalented celebrity to make a fool of themselves and then you quietly return to work. Sound good?”

Arthur nodded, a grateful smile on his face and he stood up, offering Merlin his hand. There was an awkward moment where they shook hands, watched by a slightly confused Will, and Merlin understood that Arthur was, in his own Arthurian way, trying to say ‘sorry, I should have believed you. Thank you very much.’ While Merlin tried to convey that it was nothing and he shouldn’t worry about it.

“How did you get here?” he asked.

“Car,” Arthur said. “It’s waiting downstairs.”

“Right, we’ll use that to get to the hotel. Will,” He turned to his friend and gritted his teeth, knowing that his next words were going to be unwelcome. “Can you follow behind us, at a safe distance, you know where we’re going, right?”

“Yeah, but what do you want me to do?”

“I’ll tell you later, just go there and park in the car park round the back, it’s for staff but you should be fine if you say you’re with the production company,” he moved towards the door, scooping up his keys and wallet from the table by the wall as he walked. “Now… are you ready for this?” Arthur snorted in amusement.

“Have you ever known me not to be ready?” he asked.

“Then let’s go and meet your adoring public.”

The press were already camped out at the entrance to Merlin’s apartment building, as he knew they would be. He had Will go out before them and walk to his car, the paparazzi ignored him completely, as Merlin knew they would. Half a minute later, Merlin and Arthur walked out together, Arthur repeating the words ‘no comment’ over and over until they had no meaning and the pair of them ducked into the back of his car and shut the door in the reporter’s faces.

The drive was uneventful. They both knew that the press were following them, and Merlin lost track of Will’s car before they were around three blocks, but he knew that he would make it. If there was one person who had always come through for him, it was Will, even if he was now asking him to come through for Arthur.

“So, I hear you said some interesting things about me,” he said, trying to keep his tone as light as possible. Apparently it had not been the right thing to say, as Arthur turned away from him to stare out of the window at the passing cars. “Sorry… it’s just I can’t imagine that anything you had to say about me would have been interesting enough to make the final cut. It wasn’t about my ears, was it? Because you know I’m sensitive about them,” he joked. Arthur turned to him and opened his mouth before smiling, seemingly in spite of himself.

“It wasn’t about your ears.”

“Then it must have been about my incompetence,” Merlin said with a shrug, “which isn’t anything I haven’t heard before.”

“Well, you are dreadful at your job…” Arthur said, his voice a pale imitation of his usual arrogant drawl.

“I know, I know… how you suffer, having to put up with me.”

“How I suffer,” Arthur agreed. There was another long pause. “You could have told me, you know.”

“That I was incompetent?” Merlin asked in confusion.

“That you were gay.”

“Oh, that.” In all the excitement, Merlin had almost forgotten about that little development. He shot a look at the driver in the rear view mirror and received a wink for his trouble. Apparently Arthur had been the only one who did not know.

“It’s not like I would have fired you for it,” Arthur continued, “I might even have been able to set you up with someone… not that you need it, obviously, with…”

“Will,” Merlin provided.

“Precisely,” Arthur agreed.

“I know,” Merlin said quietly, after a moment had passed. “It’s not like I really hid it, everyone else guessed.”

“Everyone?”

“Well, Gaius knows, Gwen knows, of course, Morgana knows…”

“Morgana?” Arthur turned round, his eyebrows almost at the top of his forehead.

“Mmhm,” Merlin agreed with a small smile. “She guessed.”

“Why didn’t she tell me?” Arthur asked in wonder.

“Maybe she didn’t think it was any of your business,” Merlin said with a shrug, “or maybe she thought you knew.”

“I still can’t believe that I didn’t work it out,” Arthur commented, “I mean, I always thought I was quite good at spotting that sort of thing.” Merlin was unable to stop a laugh from spilling out of his mouth and from the hurried cough the driver gave, he was having a similar problem. “Oh, come on, I’m not that stupid.”

“You’re not stupid, Arthur,” Merlin assured him. “You’re just a little… blind sometimes.” Arthur fell quiet again and his assistant realised what other things that comment could be applied to and he sighed deeply.

“You weren’t to know,” he said.

“That you were gay?” Arthur asked, although Merlin knew that his employer knew perfectly well what he was talking about.

“That Sophia was using you,” Merlin said gently. Arthur turned to him with a rueful smile, running a hand through his hair.

“Except for the fact you told me,” he pointed out. “And I should have known anyway. It was so obvious, the way we met, purely by accident. How she wanted to know everything about my life, how she kept trying to get me to do things that I shouldn’t. I shouldn’t have fallen for her act like that. I know better.”

“She was very convincing,” Merlin argued.

“She didn’t convince you.” There was nothing Merlin could say to that, and they lapsed into silence once more.

***

The statement Gaius had prepared was simple and to the point. Arthur was upset at the violation of his privacy, the underhand ways in which the reporter had worked appalled him, and he felt saddened that he was not allowed to have any part of his life outside the realm of the cameras. Much of what he said had been taken out of context. As he was preparing and Gaius brought in a make up artist to add to the overwrought, heartbroken look that they were aiming for, Merlin slipped out the back to the staff car park.

“What am I doing here?” Will asked as soon as Merlin made it over to his car.

“You’re doing a favour for an old friend,” he replied. “Please Will, all I need you to do is wait out here a few minutes and then drive home, dropping me off at my place. Is that okay?”

“An undisclosed location, huh?” his friend asked with a raised eyebrow. Merlin shrugged helplessly.

“I didn’t exactly have a lot of time to plan, and no one knows your car or where I live. It’s perfect.”

“And if they find out where it is?”

“Then we’re buggered,” Merlin told him, with a shrug. “A few days are all we need though, then everything can go back to normal.”

“And your work life and your personal life will never meet again,” Will said with a smirk. “You owe me big time for this, Merlin.”

“I know…”

“And I don’t mean a blow job, either. I mean big time. Life and death, big time.”

“I know… now, I’ve got to go, before someone realises the freak with the big ears is missing and tries to hunt me down. Keep the car ready.”

“Will do.”

Merlin paid a quick visit to Arthur’s driver on the way back, giving him instructions to leave shortly after the press conference had finished and drive around for a while as though heading somewhere important, keeping the press occupied for as long as possible. The man gave a grin and nodded. Merlin had the idea that he had lived his whole life waiting for some subterfuge like that to be necessary. He made a mental note to get in one day and say ‘follow that cab’ just for the hell of it, to see what happened.

Arthur was halfway through his prepared statement when Merlin slipped back into the room, moving to stand next to Gaius in the corner.

“Arrangements have been made,” he said under his breath, receiving an almost imperceptible nod.

There was a clamour of noise and the customary click hiss of cameras as the flash bulbs went off again and again. Arthur managed it all as he usually did, with far more composure and presence of mind than anyone had the right to. He walked immediately over to where Merlin and Gaius stood and the three of them walked out, Arthur donning his sunglasses as he did.

As soon as they were outside of the room and the security guards were blocking the path of the press, Merlin grabbed a hoodie from a pile on a table and passed it to Arthur. He stripped out of his expensive leather jacket and pulled it on, running a hand through his hair to muss it up and drag it out of his forehead before putting the hood up. Gaius tossed the jacket to a young security guard on the other side of the room, who even Merlin had to agree looked a little like Arthur. He was already wearing similar sunglasses, if a bit cheaper.

Arthur headed towards the main car park, but Merlin grabbed his arm and pulled him to the staff entrance as Gaius handed him a bag.

“I had Gwen pack you some things,” he explained and Arthur blinked at him in surprise, as though he had not been expecting such an occurrence. “Now, go, before they get the idea to look in the staff car park.”

The pair of them hurried out of the back entrance, Merlin looking both ways every few minutes to check whether he could see a lens. He did not want another disaster like the Arthur-Morgana one.

There was nobody. Arthur had made it clear enough over the years that he enjoyed press attention to a certain extent and he was not going to run away from it, so there was no expectation that he would try and trick his way out of the situation. Merlin half pushed him into the back of Will’s car before sliding in after him.

He pulled away immediately, not saying anything, and Merlin allowed himself time to breathe while Arthur thumped his head against the support, making certain to look away from the window.

The journey back to Merlin’s home was a three hour trip on a good day. Typically, the traffic chose that day to slow down and in the end, after two long traffic jams, a diversion that led to Merlin attempting to navigate himself round a combination of A and B roads he had never known existed, and a game of I-spy that was cut short by Arthur asking what the bloody point was, it reached about five.

Merlin had forgotten his ‘long journeys with Arthur’ survival pack, which included a bottle of something fizzy – but not alcoholic – a crossword book, an ordinary book and his iPod, and he was beginning to remember why he had brought that survival pack into existence in the first place.

Arthur was hungry, but he refused to let them stop in case someone spotted him. He demanded to know where they were going, but both Merlin and Will refused to tell him, out of sheer irritation. It was like travelling with a four year old. Any second now, Merlin was willing to bet that he would start asking if they were there yet.

“So, when are we going to get there… wherever there is?” he asked eventually, and Merlin heard a derisive chuckle from Will in front of them.

“Soon,” Merlin said, hoping that he was right and that every road into the village had not been shut up because of road works.

“It had better be,” he grumbled, thudding his head down onto the window.

“You could at least be a little grateful,” Will said suddenly, unable to keep his mouth shut any longer.

“Will, it’s fine,” Merlin said, looking between the pair of them. Arthur’s mouth was compressing into a thin, hard line and Will’s hands were tightening on the wheel.

“No, it’s not,” he said, “I’ve said this a million times, Merlin, you know I have.”

“Could we do this later?” Merlin asked, trying to catch Will’s gaze in the mirror for a second to indicate that he did not want to talk about it in front of Arthur.

“No, because you’ll just ignore me and run off. At least now you’re a captive audience.”

“Will.”

“He needs to hear this,” Will continued, and Merlin was aware of Arthur moving next to him, sitting up straighter.

“Yes, Merlin,” Arthur said, cutting into their conversation. “Let him talk.”

“I really don’t think…” the middle-man said, but he was cut off by Will.

“You’re the most self-satisfied, arrogant prick I’ve ever met, you know that?” Will said, dragging the car up a gear to a nasty sounding screech. Merlin opened his mouth in an abortive attempt to interrupt, but Will continued, louder than before. “So some girl took a video of you, big deal! At least it wasn’t a sex tape, or anything. Then Merlin’s trying to help you, like he always does, and you just can’t keep your big mouth shut. You’re a fucking idiot, you know that. You’re just such a fucking idiot.”

“Finished?” Arthur asked after a moment of silence.

“No!” Will yelled.

“Keep your eyes on the road, Will,” Merlin muttered.

“I’m watching the road, Merlin. I know how to drive,” Will shouted back, before turning on Arthur again. “Do you ever say thank you?” he asked, “do you ever even think that maybe other people have lives too, that don’t revolve around you? I bet you never even considered that Merlin might have an existence outside of you, did you?”

“If Merlin doesn’t choose to tell me about his life, then that’s his own prerogative,” Arthur said. His voice was quiet, compared to Will’s, and he managed to sound reasonable. “I’m not going to poke around in my friend’s lives just because I feel like. I respect people’s privacy.”

“Of course you do, that’s why Merlin can never have a day off without you calling him or texting him or needing him to rescue you from some asinine caper or other,” Will said, his voice full of sarcasm.

“Will, come on, we’re almost there… couldn’t you just yell at me about this later?” Merlin said, trying to placate his friend.

“I don’t want to yell at you,” Will said, “he’s the one who needs someone to yell at him. Your work is taking over your life and he doesn’t even notice it.”

“Merlin can take time off if he wants to take time off…” Arthur said. “I can’t help it if he chooses not to.”

As the ‘Welcome to Ealdor, please drive considerately’ sign flashed by, Merlin did not think he had ever been more grateful to be home. The tension in the car was stifling and he was pretty sure that, if the journey had gone on any longer, Will would have lost control and driven them into a ditch or something.

“Where are we, anyway?” Arthur asked, beside him, clearly addressing his question to Merlin and not Will.

“Home,” he said. “I hope you don’t mind, it was the only place I could think of that no one would think to look.”

“Your home?” Arthur asked incredulously, looking at him over the top of his sunglasses. He looked more like himself than he had that day and Merlin smiled in spite of himself, and the huff he could hear from Will. “I thought we were there this morning.” Will let out another mocking laugh.

“That place?” he asked, “Merlin’s barely spent two hours there, which you would know if you paid any attention to him at all.”

“My mother’s, where I grew up,” Merlin provided. “It’s not what you’re used to, but…”

“It’ll be fine. I’ll take anywhere with a bed and a shower,” Arthur told him with a sigh. “Your mother doesn’t mind?”

“I haven’t told her yet, so I guess we’ll find out,” Merlin told him with a small grin. Arthur looked more than a little apprehensive. “Don’t worry about it. She’s never turned anyone away in as long as I can remember, not even Great Aunt Mabel, and no one ever wants her to stay.”

“Why not?”

“She’s the harbinger of doom,” Merlin confided in a stage whisper, Arthur laughed, “no, really. If Great Aunt Mabel comes to see you, then trouble will follow. Two of my cousins split up with their husbands within two weeks of her visiting them.”

“Of course, there are those that think that Mabel’s the one who causes the trouble, not just a sign of it,” Will commented from the driver’s seat, almost sounding civil. He pulled them up to the kerb outside Merlin’s house and turned in his seat to face them. “I’ll be round tomorrow. Call me if you need anything. And remember, it’s okay to chuck the prat out if he gets to be too much.”

“Thanks Will, I owe you one.”

“I know, we already discussed that. I expect to be repaid in full,” Arthur fished in a pocket for his wallet and Will shook his head. “Not like that, pretty boy.”

“See you tomorrow,” Merlin agreed, opening the car door and levering himself out of the back seat, automatically grabbing Arthur’s bag as he went.

By the time he had pulled Arthur out of the car and up the path, the hood of his jumper still firmly pulled up, his mother had flung open the door and they were bathed in electric light.

“Merlin!” Hunith cried, coming out of the house in bare feet to hug her son.

“Mum! Mum,” Merlin gasped, “need to breathe, really…” She pulled back and gave him an unimpressed look. “Anyone would think I’d been dead or something.”

“You might have been, for all I knew,” she commented. “If Will hadn’t told me that he’d heard from you on Wednesday I wouldn’t have known if you were okay or dead in a ditch somewhere. What happened to ‘I’ll phone every week, Mum’?” Merlin shrugged helplessly, but aid came from an unexpected corner.

“That might be my fault, Mrs Emrys,” Arthur said stepping forward into the light. Merlin grinned as he watched his mother stare in utter astonishment at the visitor, her mouth opening silently as she recognised the voice. “I’ve been keeping him fairly busy recently. I’ll make sure I remind him to phone you from now on though.”

“Call me Hunith… Come in,” She ushered the pair of them in hurriedly. “You must be frozen… In. Both of you, and I’ll make a cup of tea. You do drink tea, don’t you?” she asked Arthur in concern as he walked past her.

“Yes, thank you,” he told her with a smile. Merlin shut the door behind them and let out a sigh of relief.

“Did Will not want to come in?” she asked curiously.

“He’s busy,” Merlin said evasively. “He said he’d be round tomorrow though.”

“Good… now, come in, sit down. Was it a good journey?” Arthur seemed a little overwhelmed, so Merlin took it on himself to reply.

“Terrible,” he explained, “we would have been here two hours ago, except there are road works from here to the M25.”

She nodded and walked off to make a cup of tea, leaving Merlin and Arthur sitting in the front room, in front of the gas fire. The actor looked a little shell shocked and Merlin couldn’t help but smile.

“Sorry, I think she’s a little surprised you’re here, that’s all. She’ll probably tell me off later for not warning her that you were coming. She’ll have to make up the guest bed and everything.”

“Arthur!” Hunith’s voice called from the kitchen, “do you take milk and sugar?”

“Uh… just a little milk, please,” he called back uncertainly. Merlin was almost positive he had not had to tell anyone how he liked his tea for three years, since Merlin had started working for him. That was, after all, Merlin’s job.

“Right… semi-skimmed okay?”

“Fine, thanks…” Arthur said again, looking completely out of place. Merlin could not help but stare at him for a moment. Not only did Arthur look on edge, perched on the end of the sofa, but there was a part of Merlin’s brain that was rebelling against seeing him there. The two parts of Merlin’s life were colliding, and Arthur was completely out of place in his living room, discussing his tea preferences with his mother.

“So, your Mum knows about you and Will, then?” Arthur asked, which seemed the least important question possible at that moment in time, but Merlin answered anyway.

“Yeah… not that I told her.” He scratched the back of his neck self-consciously, “she just seemed to know one day.”

“Will doesn’t like me much, does he?” Arthur said, switching the conversation more quickly than Merlin had really been expecting.

“He… doesn’t really know you,” Merlin countered, trying to be reassuring. Arthur didn’t reply; he didn’t get a chance as Merlin’s mother walked back in and sat down with them.

“Tea’s in the pot,” she said, “now, Merlin… given that I wasn’t expecting you back before my birthday, why don’t you explain what you’re doing here?”

“Mum, there was an… incident, and Arthur and I need somewhere to stay for a little while until things calm down. I know you might be busy, but I was hoping that maybe we could stay here?”

“Of course,” she said, looking over at Arthur a little apprehensively, “as long as you don’t mind, Arthur.”

“It’ll be fine,” he said, giving her his most charming smile. “I don’t mean to impose, but Merlin said it would be alright.”

“It’s fine… I haven’t made the guest bedroom up, and I apologise for the mess,” she gestured at the light clutter that dusted the surfaces. Arthur smirked.

“If you think this is bad, you should see Merlin’s room,” he told her.

“I did, for eighteen years,” she replied, “I spent most of them telling him to tidy it up, but it never really took, now every time he comes home I end up picking up clothes and books and papers from the floor when he leaves again, and he hoards mugs.” Merlin watched as the pair of them discussed his shocking lack of hygiene, adding in an affronted comment or two when the occasion called for it. He did not live in squalor or filth, after all, just a healthy amount of mess.

Arthur was relaxing more every second: he was no longer perched on the edge of his seat, but leaning right back, one leg propped up on the other and his arms splayed along the back of the sofa, taking up as much room as he could.

“He never has been able to keep his mouth shut,” Hunith commented and Merlin drifted back into the conversation, realising it had taken a turn for the worse.

“Tell me about it,” Arthur said with an easy laugh, “he once asked my father…”

“That’s enough!” he said, cutting into the conversation quickly. He had a very good idea where that was going, and if his mother got any idea of some of the things he had accidentally said to very important people’s faces, then he would no doubt be in her bad books for the rest of his natural life. Arthur was smirking at him, and he gave him a hard glare, but it had no effect. They never had. Arthur was completely immune to his glares, and his yelling and everything really, but then so was everyone else.

“I’ll go pour the tea out,” his mother said, standing up and walking out of the room with a secretive smile on her face.

“It’s very different here,” Arthur said, looking around the walls, which were full of family pictures and pieces of art that Merlin had brought back from abroad.

“I know it’s nothing like your home,” Merlin agreed, feeling a bit defensive. “But it’s not that bad. It’s nice around here. Everyone knows each other, even if Mrs Wilkins down the street knows a little too much. There aren’t any big shops or anything, and the school’s tiny… there were only thirteen people in my year at one point, but it’s quiet.”

“It’s just the two of you?” Arthur asked and Merlin nodded.

“My father left before I was born. Mum doesn’t talk about him… so it’s always been just me and her… and Will.”

“Sounds nice.”

“It would have driven you mad,” Merlin replied with a smile, “the nearest cinema is an hour’s bus ride away, the nearest bar is about the same. There are four pubs, but mostly all you get there are old men talking about the football, and in the summer there’s a huge cricket match on the green and everyone watches.”

“You hate cricket,” Arthur commented.

“It’s not exactly proper cricket,” Merlin corrected, “it tends to get quite… dirty. Once Mr Partridge was bowling to maim and kill… I kid you not. He fractured one shin, gave two people concussion and hit Rory, down the road, in the balls.” Arthur grimaced in sympathy, flinching slightly. “It’s not a game, it’s a battle, and no one’s ever really sure who wins. It’s sort of like an England-Germany football match, only with a harder ball, and less sportsmanship.” Arthur laughed.

“I can’t see you playing, somehow,” the blond man commented, “you throw like a girl.”

“Hey!” Merlin exclaimed, and proceeded to show that he could throw pretty damn well, by bombarding Arthur with everything he could find, from a rolled up pair of socks and a pen, to a cushion, all of which were thrown back again with far more accuracy.

“Merlin!” his mother said sharply as she came back in, “what have I told you about throwing things in the living room? And at guests.”

“Sorry Mum,” he muttered, leaning out to take his tea as Arthur did the same, they shared a small sheepish smile.

“Would you prefer sheep or plain red?” Hunith asked Arthur out of the blue, and the visitor sat staring at her for a minute in bemusement. “Sheets.”

“I really don’t mind,” he said with a shrug, shooting a look at Merlin to ask what was going on.

“Okay, and do you like sausage and chips?” she asked again, “I didn’t know you were coming, and the only thing I could find that would be enough for three was the packet of sausages, but I can go down to the butchers if you’d prefer something else. Frank doesn’t close up for another half an hour…”

“Sausage and chips is fine,” Arthur assured her.

Merlin found that he had to keep reminding himself that he was still awake during dinner, watching Arthur pour vinegar onto oven chips and then grab the tomato ketchup as soon as Merlin put it down. It was like being in some surreal film, except it was his dining room. Arthur drank orange juice out of a plastic cup, because all the good glasses were in the loft.

Although, he did not offer to do the washing up, which was just as well really, because Merlin knew that he had never done that before in his life. There had always been maids, housekeepers and personal assistants to do things like that for him. It was the one thing that made Merlin absolutely certain that this was happening.

His mother went upstairs to sort out the guest bedroom, which had not been used since the last time Uncle Howard decided to come and stay and had since been filled up with boxes and piles of books and unwanted birthday presents. Arthur sat on the worktop and watched intently as Merlin set to work on the dishes. He tried to ignore the gaze, but it was difficult while Arthur was sitting just at the edge of his line of sight trying to bore a hole in him with his eyes.

“What is it?” he asked eventually. Arthur shrugged. “You’ve been staring at me for the past fifteen minutes. Do I have soap on my nose?”

“No,” Arthur slid off the worktop and walked over to him, until he was standing so close that Merlin could reach out and touch him. “It’s just… you’re different here.”

“I’m still just Merlin,” he replied with as casual a shrug as he could manage. He risked a glance up at Arthur and saw that the man was not looking at his face, but somewhere round about his shoulder.

“I know… but you seem more you here,” Arthur commented. He looked up again and they found themselves staring at each other, their gazes locked together. “It’s odd…”

“Well, that’s me,” Merlin joked feebly. His hands were still submerged in the water as they continued to stare at each other and he could feel the bits that he had accidentally splashed out of the sink soaking into his t-shirt. They seemed worlds away from Saturday night, with Arthur, just as close as he was now, telling him that maybe it was time he leave, and even further away from the Wednesday before and their argument in the jewellery shop.

They were in Merlin’s world now, his house, his mother, and Arthur was suddenly involved in his whole life, but it did not seem intrusive. His presence, half a foot away, did not seem intrusive, and that in itself was more than a little worrying. The idea of work had faded away somewhere along the line, probably in the car with Arthur and Will trying to one up each other in some twisted contest that Merlin still did not entirely understand from either end. It had seemed, at points like they were arguing over him, but that could not be right: Arthur was straight, Will knew Arthur was straight. It made no sense.

He realised, with a jolt, that he was still staring at Arthur, and Arthur was still staring back, a small frown on his face as though he was trying to puzzle something out.

“It’s probably just stress,” Arthur said, turning away to stalk back across the kitchen. Merlin let out his breath in a long stream and sagged against the counter, experiencing a release of tension he had not known he was feeling. “My mind’s everywhere at the moment. It’s just Sophia…” the film star ground to a halt, glaring down at his hands. “Is it the job, or is it just me?” he asked rhetorically. “All my relationships screw themselves up.”

“Sophia was a special case,” Merlin told him, turning back to the dishes with renewed impetus. “And Morgana’s too much like you anyway. No relationship would have been big enough to house both your egos.”

“Was that an insult?” Arthur asked carefully and Merlin smiled to himself while he rinsed off a pan.

“Not an insult if it’s true,” he pointed out with a smirk. Arthur raised an eyebrow in mock offence and walked towards the sink again, slowly.

“Are you saying I have an ego problem?” he asked slowly. Merlin shrugged.

“All I’m saying, sir, is that you don’t exactly have a low opinion of yourself,” he replied, just this side of insulting.

“Right…” Arthur said, glaring at him. “You finished?” Merlin looked down to find that the worktop was empty and nodded, dumbly. “So… going to give me the tour?”

“It won’t take very long,” Merlin said, “you’ve seen most of the downstairs already. The toilet’s under the stairs.”

“Right… so onwards and upwards,” Arthur indicated the door as Merlin dried off his hands and the pair of them headed out and up the stairs. Hunith was making the bed in the spare room when they reached the landing and she gave them a smile. “I take it that’s where I’ll be sleeping,” Arthur said and mother and son nodded. “And the bathroom is…”

Merlin pointed to a door on their right.

“The shower takes a bit of getting used to,” he explained, moving forward to open the door and point around the cramped room. There was enough space for a sink, a toilet and the shower cubicle and that was it. The side of the bath was surrounded by bottles and various things. “It always comes on either boiling hot or freezing cold, and you have to leave it for a few seconds before it’s suitable for human use. And if you turn it on the wrong way it’ll switch itself off after a minute and a half, well, actually a minute and twenty three seconds – I counted once, so turn it anticlockwise then clockwise.”

“Anti-clockwise then clockwise, right,” Arthur muttered, raising one eyebrow in disbelief. Merlin wondered if he had ever lived anywhere with slightly dodgy plumbing before, or somewhere the boiler came on with a cacophony of rumbles and clanks that sounded like some kind of war machine. “Anything I should know about the sink or the toilet?”

“Those are taps,” Merlin said, pointing to the sink, “You turn the top and water comes out of the silver spout part, one’s hot, one’s cold, and that’s a toilet… you press the button to flush it.”

“That would be a no, then,” the guest commented, and his tone of voice was as close as Arthur ever got to sticking out his tongue at someone. Merlin grinned at the change in him from that morning. It was like talking to the real Arthur again, something he had not done since before the whole Sophia thing. They left the bathroom and Arthur moved onto the next door, “and this room is…” he pulled the handle and opened it, “a cupboard.”

“Yes, that’s the boiler in there, it’ll probably wake you up around six thirty, but try to ignore it.” Hunith put in. “I’ll leave you boys to it then and go watch some television.”

As she walked downstairs, Arthur poked his head into the guest room, taking in the bed and the desk in the corner.

“I get a computer?” he asked.

“You get the computer,” Merlin corrected.

“You only have one computer?”

“It’s fine!”

“It’s prehistoric,” Arthur said, looking at the huge monitor and the tower, which had a tendency to chunter. “It doesn’t even have front access USB ports.”

“It works perfectly fine, and it’s got a modem…” Merlin said, walking over to pat it lightly in an attempt to soothe its feelings.

“It’s only a computer, Merlin,” Arthur told him. Merlin gave him a scandalised look.

“It’s not only a computer…” he said, as though the very idea were dreadful. “It’s got a personality.”

“I thought when computers started having personalities, we were supposed to start worrying,” Arthur commented, sitting on the end of the bed, unable to suppress a small frown at the feel of the mattress. Merlin tried to ignore him.

“You’ve been paying too much attention to the scripts you’ve been given. That film you were in two years ago was just a story, Arthur. Robots aren’t really hunting you down to try and kill you.”

“I’m not the one who thinks his computer has a personality,” the actor retorted, staring at the star chart that was stuck on one of the walls. “Who’s the astronomer?”

“Mum,” Merlin said, “she did astrophysics or something at university, she’s a teacher at the local primary school.”

“Oh,” Arthur paused for a moment, “So, where’s your room?” Merlin opened his mouth to speak when he realised just what Arthur was asking.

“Oh… you don’t need to see that,” he said hurriedly. “It’s just a room: bed, wardrobe, desk, that sort of thing, nothing special.”

“Come on, Merlin… you know everything there is to know about my life: show me.”

“It’s my job to know everything about your life,” Merlin argued, “it’s my job to organise your life, I have to know it all.”

“Which, if you think about it,” Arthur said, turning to him with a wicked grin, “isn’t fair at all.”

“I think it is,” Merlin said.

“Well, I don’t,” Arthur told him, swinging himself to his feet, “and as your boss, I feel that what I say goes.”

“You gave me the day off,” Merlin said as Arthur headed for the next door.

“Yes, well, I’m taking that back.”

“You can’t take that back, it’s illegal to do that without giving me fair warning… I’ll contact my union.”

“Merlin,” Arthur turned to look back at him over his shoulder and Merlin felt his heart sink. This was it, the end of his life. He might have survived the Sophia crisis, but this was the end of it all. Arthur knew he was gay and once he saw Merlin’s room he would know that Merlin was in love with him and then that would be that, he’d phone up someone and run back to his real life and Merlin would be left trying to find a job at the bakery on the high street and wondering why he hadn’t gone to University like his Mum had wanted him to. Arthur’s hand was on his door handle. “Is this it?” Merlin nodded with a heartfelt wince and closed his eyes as Arthur opened the door and went in.

He knew that the first thing that would hit Arthur’s eyes as he walked in through the door was his own face staring back at him from the far wall, and not because of a mirror. A good fifty percent of the wall space in Merlin’s room was taken up with posters, and ninety per cent of the posters were of the same person, the person who was currently looking at them.

It was his mother’s fault, he reasoned. Any normal mother would have cleared the room out after their son left home officially, but no, she had kept it like it had been for years, since Merlin was sixteen, in fact, and he had begun his slight obsession with Arthur. He had never got around to taking them down himself, it had never been the right time, and, to be honest, it was a little calming to have it all there like that. He was so used to the posters that blank walls would no doubt be jarring.

“Merlin?” Arthur called and Merlin walked to the doorway of his room slowly, waiting for the storm to begin. Arthur might be fine with having a gay PA, but having a gay PA who was in love with him would probably be stretching his acceptance a little far. “Your mother wasn’t kidding, was she?” Merlin blinked and stared at where Arthur stood, in the middle of his room, surrounded by pictures of his own face, looking with distaste at a pair of jeans that were crumpled in a heap in the middle of his floor.

“Uh… no,” he said slowly, wondering whether Arthur had suddenly gone blind, or whether his intense narcissism had made the almost-shrine to him seem like something normal.

“Why do you even bother with a wardrobe?” Arthur asked, “and bookshelves… they’re for putting books on.”

“I know,” Merlin managed to say as Arthur knelt down to pick up a small pile of books and leafed through them with vague interest. He smiled in relief. He wasn’t being fired.

“Looking around here, I wouldn’t think so,” the other man said with amusement. “How on earth do you manage my life when you can’t even tidy a room?” Merlin shrugged helplessly.

“I have no idea.” Arthur was looking around again and Merlin held his breath, even though he knew that he must have already noticed the posters. But, given that it was Arthur, the facts might take a few moments to filter through his brain.

“You have the limited edition poster from The Moment of Truth,” he said in astonishment, going up to look at the offending picture more closely. “They only made two hundred of these.”

“I know,” Merlin said, knowing that he was blushing furiously, hoping that Arthur wouldn’t ask where he got it, because there were some eBay purchases in the room that he definitely would not have made had he known he would end up in a job where he got the merchandise for free and the real thing for as much of his time as he could offer.

“Cool,” was all Arthur said, though and then he turned round, at a loose end again, although Merlin suspected that he could spend several hours just staring at the oversized images of his own face.

***

When Merlin got up the next morning, his mother was getting ready for work, and she smiled at him as he shuffled into the kitchen looking for breakfast.

“Sleep well?” she asked, sipping at her morning coffee.

“Like a log,” he replied.

“Any sign of Arthur?” she asked. He raised one eyebrow while he searched the cupboards for something that looked like cereal.

“Not yet,” he answered. “But he’ll be down before too long. He can never stay in bed in the mornings. I don’t get it personally.” He shrugged and grabbed a bowl.

“I wouldn’t have expected him to come back with you,” she commented. Merlin busied himself with getting his breakfast ready, avoiding her eyes.

“He didn’t know where we were going,” Merlin admitted, “he just needed somewhere people wouldn’t know to look. Luckily he’s not needed for filming this week.” He pulled himself up onto the worktop and began to eat. “It’s just somewhere to stay.”

“Which is why he insisted on being given the tour, and keeps asking you questions…” she said gently.

“He’s nosy,” Merlin replied around a mouthful of muesli. “Doesn’t mean anything.” His mother smiled, the same vaguely secretive smile she had been using before.

“And he doesn’t like Will?” she asked.

“Mum!” he exclaimed. “It was more that Will doesn’t like him, which you already knew anyway… Arthur was just reacting to Will being an idiot.”

“Merlin...” she said mildly, drinking the last of her coffee. “I don’t think it’s just that.”

“He’s Arthur,” Merlin said with a shrug, “who knows why he does anything?” She stood up, picking up a scarf from over the back of her chair and draping it over her neck. “It was just pointed out to him yesterday that he doesn’t know me as well as he thought he did and he’s trying to prove Will wrong.” She smiled.

“If you say so,” she said, walking over to kiss him on the forehead. “I’ll see you tonight, okay. Don’t burn the house down while I’m out… and try to keep the wild parties quiet. Mrs Partridge might be going deaf, but that’s only when it suits her.”

“All Wild Parties will be held silently… and all fires will be restricted to the garden,” he agreed with a quirk of a smile. “Have a good day.”

“You too,” she replied before walking back out into the hall to get her coat and Merlin settled back to his breakfast. As he was finishing off the bowl, he heard footsteps on the stairs and his mother, on her way out of the door, greet their houseguest politely.

Arthur walked into the kitchen looking far too awake for someone who had only just got up. He paused in the doorway to look at Merlin swinging his legs against the cupboards and shook his head.

“What’s for breakfast?” he asked.

“Muesli,” Merlin said and the newcomer made a face. “Although I’m sure I could find some bacon and eggs somewhere around here.”

“Sounds good,” Arthur agreed. “I got a call from Morgana,” he said after a pause. Merlin continued grabbing bacon and eggs from the fridge, trying to act as though nothing were wrong.

“What did she have to say?” he asked, finding the pan cupboard and rifling through it for a frying pan he knew was there somewhere. Of course, it had to be at the bottom of the pile. He could feel Arthur watching him as he knelt down to empty the cupboard. The skin on the back of his neck prickled and he really wanted to turn around, but he refused to.

“That I was a prat and she wasn’t talking to me,” Arthur said, “and that if she ever saw Sophia again she would cut her into tiny pieces and feed her to a dog.”

“So, you two are okay, then,” Merlin said, his head and shoulders in the cupboard. He hoped that Arthur could hear him properly, despite the muffling.

“I think so… except the prat part, but that’s normal,” he added. “She wanted to know where I was, as well.”

“Did you tell her?” Merlin asked, finally pulling himself free, the frying pan clenched in his hand and a triumphant grin on his face. “Ha!” he exclaimed with a glare at it.

“No…” Arthur replied, smirking as Merlin proceeded to try and pile the pans back again, only to find that they no longer fit.

“So, fried or scrambled?” he asked. Arthur leaned back in the chair and crossed his arms, his smirk growing into a wicked smile.

“Poached.”

“Git.”


***

Next Part




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