Mistletoe and Wine for ajsrandom
Title: Mistletoe and Wine
Recipient:ajsrandom
Author: eurydice72
Rating: PG
Pairing/s: Merlin/Morgana, background Arthur/Gwen
Summary: The last thing Morgana wants to do is attend the office Christmas party with the man she's been crushing on for months.
Warnings: None
Word Count: 3003
Author's Notes: Merry Christmas, ajsrandom! It's always a joy to write these two. :)
Disclaimer: Merlin is owned by the BBC and Shine. No copyright infringement is intended and no profit is being made. Don't send us to the dungeons.
“You have got to be kidding me.”
Morgana stared at the pub’s exterior in disbelief. When Arthur and Gwen had insisted on taking over the planning for this year’s Christmas party, Morgana had swallowed her protests. After all, this was their first Christmas as an official married couple. They wanted to make it special, so Morgana had conceded her usual control to allow them this one indulgence.
Mistake number one.
She had deliberately ignored the details as they filtered out, convinced that she would find something to change if she knew what they were planning. The last thing she wanted was to take this away from Gwen, who seemed genuinely excited about the bash. So really, it was her own fault that she hadn’t discovered Arthur had managed the impossible and completely rented out the Churchill Arms until this afternoon.
Mistake number two.
The pub’s reputation was renowned. Half of the year, its exterior was festooned with hundreds of flowers that brought smiles to locals and tourists alike. For the holiday, they switched it out, but while she knew it was supposed to be spectacular, she’d never bothered learning the details on how because she’d always thought of it as a gimmick for the tourists. Turned out, she’d been right. The pavement was packed with gawkers, phones lifted high to get the building in all its glory. Full-grown Christmas trees, strung with enough lights to be seen from space, were lashed to the walls, packed so densely that the only part of the pub that was visible was its name over the side windows. Stars perched on the uppermost layer, with an even larger one poised atop the tree above the door. The effect made the entire building look like a bristling hedgehog trapped in fairy lights.
A low whistle sounded next to her. “It’s even better than last year. Doesn’t this place just make you want to smile?”
Morgana closed her eyes and silently counted to ten. It shouldn’t be a surprise that Merlin would love the decorations. His ability to put a positive spin on everything was one of his most annoying traits.
You meant endearing, the little voice that had been counting whispered. You wouldn’t fancy him as much if he was a grinch.
Shut up.
It did, but the point had been made. It was also why she’d agreed to meet up with him outside rather than venture in on her own. Her little crush on her brother’s best friend had a way of breaking through her determination to keep him at arm’s length at the worst of times.
Taking a deep breath, Morgana opened her eyes and shot him a wry smile. “It’s not exactly a Tiffany’s box, but I suppose it’ll do.”
His smile widened. “Let’s go,” he said, and when he suddenly scooped her gloved hand into his, she had to stifle the quick gasp the firm contact elicited.
She couldn’t do anything about the flutter in her stomach, though. But at least Merlin couldn’t hear that.
They had to weave through the throng to get to the front door. George, Arthur’s assistant, stood outside with an iPad. His single nod to the season was an elf hat, the bell dangling dangerously close to his nose.
“Happy Christmas, George!” Merlin clapped him on the shoulder in greeting, but George remained stoic. “Need me to send out a hot toddy to keep you warm until everybody arrives?”
“Thank you, but that won’t be necessary, Mr. Emrys.” His bare fingers danced over his tablet, striking their names from the visible list. “But if you could inform Mr. Pendragon we are only waiting for three more people, I would be greatly obliged.”
“Easiest gift I’ll give this year.” Merlin pulled the door open and a blast of warm air rushed out to greet them. Releasing Morgana’s hand, he tilted his head toward the entrance. “After you.”
Morgana offered George a tight nod. As she crossed the threshold into the pub, however, the sight of the ceiling ground her to a halt.
“Bugger,” she muttered under her breath.
The interior was as decorated as the outside, though garlands replaced the trees. And, instead of stars on the ceiling, sprigs of mistletoe dangled from the buckets and baskets that hung there, enough to make it very difficult to move without somehow ending up beneath one.
The door slammed shut behind her.
And she was here with Merlin.
Mistake number three.
“Looks like Gwen got her wish,” Merlin commented.
He was staring up at the ceiling, still smiling, as Morgana gaped up at him. “You knew about this?”
“Well, sure. She’s been asking for my help for weeks.”
“Why didn’t she ask me?”
Merlin shrugged. “She said you didn’t seem interested this year, so she didn’t want to bug you with it.”
So not only was she about to suffer through the longest night of her life, trying to avoid letting on to Merlin about her little crush, it was only happening because she had thought she was being thoughtful and letting Gwen have free rein with the party.
“I need a drink,” she announced.
She had to take a crooked path to get to the bar without wandering into a mistletoe zone. When she tried to get the bartender’s attention, though, Merlin stopped her with a touch to her arm.
“Let’s try one of the holiday cocktails Gwen had done special,” he said.
Though she was quickly losing the Christmas spirit, she said, “Do they have alcohol in them?”
“Of course.”
“Then that’s all that matters.”
The bartender, a blond bear Morgana might have flirted with before she’d fallen for the dark side, approached. “What can I get you?”
Merlin took the lead. “What are the holiday specials?”
“There’s a mistletoe martini-”
“Absolutely not,” Morgana announced. “What else?”
“We have something called a snowstorm.”
Merlin brightened. “What’s in that?”
“Vodka, kahlua, and coconut milk.”
Morgana grimaced. “Ewww. No.”
“Pomegranate Punch?”
“No.”
“Cranberry margarita?”
“It’s Christmas, not a summer holiday.”
“Wait,” Merlin interrupted. “Did Gwen choose the Naughty and Nice?” When the bartender said yes, Merlin added, “Two of those.”
She wanted to argue, but the bartender was already turning away to fill the order. “What’s in them?” she asked instead.
Merlin shook his head. “You’ll have to wait and see.”
Not her strong suit. Shrugging out of her coat, she started to drape it over her arm, only to be stopped by Merlin.
“I’ll take care of that,” he said.
His fingertips grazed her bare skin as he took it from her, turning away before she could offer gratitude. He didn’t go far, just to the end of the bar where a young woman dressed as an elf was passing out coat checks. It was far enough to enjoy the view, though. The long, lean body. The surprisingly strong shoulders. Arthur teased him about being too thin, but Morgana knew that Merlin worked out daily in the office gym. He’d invited her along once or twice, but she’d always refused, too worried about getting caught staring. Her imagination was more than adequate to conjure up the images of a sweaty Merlin, thank you very much.
Merlin returned at the same time the bartender set down two innocuous pink drinks in French wine glasses in front of her. Sugared cranberries floated on top, while a stick with a Santa hat speared an orange slice, but otherwise, they seemed rather unremarkable.
Merlin lifted his glass. “Here’s to an unforgettable night.”
“But not so unforgettable that Father finds a reason to fire me tomorrow,” Morgana said.
Merlin chuckled, but Morgana was already taking a sip of her cocktail. At the first burst of ginger and whiskey on her taste buds, though, her eyes widened.
“Oh, this isn’t nearly as insipid as it looks!” she exclaimed.
“A Morgana Pendragon endorsement if I ever heard one,” Merlin replied. “I knew you’d like it.”
She took another drink, this time more critically assessing its flavors. “But it’s got cranberry. That’s part of why I vetoed the margarita.”
“The ginger and orange juice tone that down. Plus, it’s the only whiskey-based cocktail Gwen had on her shortlist. Since whiskey’s your favorite, it was a no-brainer.”
It was on the tip of her tongue to ask how he knew what her alcohol of choice was - she rarely drank in public and only sipped at red wine at the family functions he might have attended with Arthur - but the boisterous welcome from a group from Marketing shifted their focus. Immediately, Morgana put on her best what-a-wonderful-party mask and chattered away with them about inane details she wouldn’t remember in five minutes. She didn’t get a break when they drifted away, though, as a trio from Sales took their place. But halfway through chatting with them, she realized she’d cracked the solution to surviving this party without embarrassing herself with Merlin. Her place at the bar was mistletoe-free. As long as she never moved, she would be safe.
Half an hour later, she was still there. On her third Naughty and Nice, of course, because Merlin had been spot-on about her preferences. The cocktail also had a more-ish quality that made it impossible to turn down the bartender’s query when he asked if she wanted another. But she’d parked herself on one of the stools, “holding court” as Arthur had commented when he’d come around, and was flying surprisingly high considering she’d been dreading this evening so much.
Merlin remained at her elbow throughout, telling his own stories, laughing along at others’. The color had risen in his cheeks, and his already bright blue eyes practically sparkled whenever he looked at her. More than once, Morgana risked leaning closer, nudging him with a playful shoulder, angling toward his chest on the pretense of a better view of some girl Elyan was showing him on his phone. His cologne was new to her, something earthier than he usually wore in the office, and every inhalation sparked a fresh tingle in her thighs. She had to cross her legs to get it to stop.
A sudden cough from Merlin broke the festive laughter. “Pardon,” he said, turning away from Elyan. As Morgana watched out of the corner of her eye, he gestured to the bartender for one of the bottles of water on the back counter.
“You all right?” she asked.
He waved her off as he twisted the cap. Closing his eyes, he swigged down a third of the bottle, then cleared his throat. “That last bit of my drink went down the wrong way,” he said in explanation.
Morgana frowned. His glass was empty, but she could’ve sworn he’d finished it a few minutes ago. “Would you like some fresh air?”
He shook his head, then hesitated. “Actually, I’m peckish. Want to head over to the buffet table to see what there is to nosh on?”
Food was probably a good idea. She hadn’t had a bite since breakfast, and her head was a little light from all the drinks. She hopped off the stool and surprised both of them by grabbing his hand. “Let’s go.”
For being only ten feet away, it took a solid twenty minutes for them to reach the table. People kept stopping them along the way, forcing her into conversations while the music swirled around her. When they paused, she let go of Merlin’s hand - reluctantly - and acted as casually as she could with him standing so near. She grabbed it once they started up again, but when the second group intercepted them, she was forced to drop it again. Merlin surprised her by settling his now-free hand in the small of her back, just the slightest of weights but warm and comforting and did she really have to talk to all these people when the only person who mattered in the room was Merlin?
“-don’t you think, Morgana?”
Morgana blinked. She’d zoned out there for a moment, too distracted by Merlin’s touch, and completely missed what Vivian had been prattling on about. Her thoughts scrambled for a response that didn’t get her in trouble, but as if he had a second sense about her distress, Merlin spoke up first.
“I think that sounds like work talk which completely defeats the purpose of the evening,” he said, though his smile mitigated the harshness of the words.
“Why don’t you and I talk about this after the New Year?” Morgana said to Vivian. “Merlin’s right. Nothing is so important that it can’t wait until after the holiday.”
Though Vivian seemed disappointed, she let them walk away without fuss. As soon as they were out of earshot, Morgana leaned closer and murmured, “Thanks for the save.”
His touch firmed at her back, and she felt his smile rather than fully saw it. “I’m not sure I did you much good in the end. You’re the one who now has to listen to her new idea about the social media accounts.”
But at least she didn’t look like an idiot, and for that, she truly was grateful.
The buffet table was free of mistletoe, thank goodness. Probably because sensible Gwen would’ve seen it as a means of slowing people down from grabbing food. She and Merlin moved along opposite sides, but where she tried to aim for healthier options, he loaded his up with every calorie-loaded confection and appetizer his long arms could reach.
“Now you’re just showing off,” she complained when he took one of the miniature sticky toffee puddings at the end.
“Take one,” he pressed.
“And watch it go straight to my thighs? I don’t think so.”
His gaze slid down her body in an appraising way he never displayed at the office. The boldness of it shocked her, but not nearly as much as the way he lingered on the reverse path back up. When his eyes met hers, they were darker, the pupils dilated, heat banked in their depths.
“If you want it, you should take it,” he said simply. “You might discover it was the best choice you ever made.”
Maybe it was the cocktails going to her head. Maybe it was how tired she was of pretending not to want him. Maybe it was because Gwen and Arthur and all their romantic rubbish had finally rubbed off on her. But all of a sudden, Morgana didn’t want to ignore what she’d been feeling anymore.
Deliberately, she came around the corner of the table and set down the plate so her hands were free. “You make that sound like an invitation.” Catching the end of his tie, she wound it loosely through her fingers. It would tighten if he pulled away - please don’t pull away - but for now, she relished the sensation of the silk against her skin. “Are you flirting with me, Merlin?”
“No.”
The single word came out without hesitation, low and matter-of-fact. Her heart pounded in terror at what an egregious mistake she’d made. The alcohol had muddied her senses, and she’d just ruined a perfectly good friendship because she’d been foolish enough to let her guard down.
When she tried to let go of his tie, though, Merlin covered her hand with his and held it in place.
“I’ve been flirting with you for months and it’s got me nowhere,” he went on. “I even tried tonight with all the mistletoe.”
“Wait.” She gestured to the sprigs gone wild that started only a few feet away. “You said it was Gwen’s wish.”
“It was.” He shrugged. “I might’ve been the one to give her the idea in the first place.”
“But why?”
“A last ditch effort to finally kiss you. Even if you blamed it all on the alcohol tomorrow.”
The terror that had kept her in its grip loosened, replaced with a fervent urge to shout for joy. Her feelings weren’t one-side, after all. Everything that she had fantasized about could be hers. Starting with a single kiss.
Tugging on his tie, she pulled him closer until their lips were only a breath apart. “I’m not going to blame it on the cocktails,” she whispered.
The corner of his mouth tilted upward. “But we’re not under the mistletoe here.”
“I don’t care.”
His breath was warm and sweet as she captured his lips in the kiss she’d been dreaming about. When her head swam now, it was because of the heat radiating between them, the tingle of his tongue tangling with hers. She had no fear of falling, though. Merlin’s free arm wrapped around her back and pressed their bodies together. More than anything, she felt like she would float away if he didn’t keep hold of her.
They were both panting when they parted. Instead of straightening, Merlin rested his brow against hers.
“I’ve waited for this for so long, it hardly feels real,” he said softly.
“That’s because we’re trapped inside Christmas decorations gone mad,” she teased.
“It is a little much,” he conceded.
Morgana laughed. Abandoning their plates, she tightened her hold on his tie and began winding a path back to the coat check. More than one person raised an eyebrow as they passed, but Morgana didn’t care. She kept her head high. So did Merlin. He never faltered as she retrieved their jackets and continued their way out of the pub.
“Are you going to tell me where we’re going?” he said on the pavement.
She paused. “Would knowing the answer to that question change your mind about coming with me?” she asked.
Merlin shook his head.
Morgana smiled. “Since you’re the best gift I could’ve asked for, I’ve decided to unwrap you in private. If that’s all right with you.”
Laughing, Merlin brushed another kiss across her temple. “And to think I thought you agreeing to come to the party together was the best miracle I could’ve hoped for.”
Her heart swelled. An hour ago, she’d called it something else. Now, she knew it hadn’t been a mistake, after all.
Recipient:ajsrandom
Author: eurydice72
Rating: PG
Pairing/s: Merlin/Morgana, background Arthur/Gwen
Summary: The last thing Morgana wants to do is attend the office Christmas party with the man she's been crushing on for months.
Warnings: None
Word Count: 3003
Author's Notes: Merry Christmas, ajsrandom! It's always a joy to write these two. :)
Disclaimer: Merlin is owned by the BBC and Shine. No copyright infringement is intended and no profit is being made. Don't send us to the dungeons.
“You have got to be kidding me.”
Morgana stared at the pub’s exterior in disbelief. When Arthur and Gwen had insisted on taking over the planning for this year’s Christmas party, Morgana had swallowed her protests. After all, this was their first Christmas as an official married couple. They wanted to make it special, so Morgana had conceded her usual control to allow them this one indulgence.
Mistake number one.
She had deliberately ignored the details as they filtered out, convinced that she would find something to change if she knew what they were planning. The last thing she wanted was to take this away from Gwen, who seemed genuinely excited about the bash. So really, it was her own fault that she hadn’t discovered Arthur had managed the impossible and completely rented out the Churchill Arms until this afternoon.
Mistake number two.
The pub’s reputation was renowned. Half of the year, its exterior was festooned with hundreds of flowers that brought smiles to locals and tourists alike. For the holiday, they switched it out, but while she knew it was supposed to be spectacular, she’d never bothered learning the details on how because she’d always thought of it as a gimmick for the tourists. Turned out, she’d been right. The pavement was packed with gawkers, phones lifted high to get the building in all its glory. Full-grown Christmas trees, strung with enough lights to be seen from space, were lashed to the walls, packed so densely that the only part of the pub that was visible was its name over the side windows. Stars perched on the uppermost layer, with an even larger one poised atop the tree above the door. The effect made the entire building look like a bristling hedgehog trapped in fairy lights.
A low whistle sounded next to her. “It’s even better than last year. Doesn’t this place just make you want to smile?”
Morgana closed her eyes and silently counted to ten. It shouldn’t be a surprise that Merlin would love the decorations. His ability to put a positive spin on everything was one of his most annoying traits.
You meant endearing, the little voice that had been counting whispered. You wouldn’t fancy him as much if he was a grinch.
Shut up.
It did, but the point had been made. It was also why she’d agreed to meet up with him outside rather than venture in on her own. Her little crush on her brother’s best friend had a way of breaking through her determination to keep him at arm’s length at the worst of times.
Taking a deep breath, Morgana opened her eyes and shot him a wry smile. “It’s not exactly a Tiffany’s box, but I suppose it’ll do.”
His smile widened. “Let’s go,” he said, and when he suddenly scooped her gloved hand into his, she had to stifle the quick gasp the firm contact elicited.
She couldn’t do anything about the flutter in her stomach, though. But at least Merlin couldn’t hear that.
They had to weave through the throng to get to the front door. George, Arthur’s assistant, stood outside with an iPad. His single nod to the season was an elf hat, the bell dangling dangerously close to his nose.
“Happy Christmas, George!” Merlin clapped him on the shoulder in greeting, but George remained stoic. “Need me to send out a hot toddy to keep you warm until everybody arrives?”
“Thank you, but that won’t be necessary, Mr. Emrys.” His bare fingers danced over his tablet, striking their names from the visible list. “But if you could inform Mr. Pendragon we are only waiting for three more people, I would be greatly obliged.”
“Easiest gift I’ll give this year.” Merlin pulled the door open and a blast of warm air rushed out to greet them. Releasing Morgana’s hand, he tilted his head toward the entrance. “After you.”
Morgana offered George a tight nod. As she crossed the threshold into the pub, however, the sight of the ceiling ground her to a halt.
“Bugger,” she muttered under her breath.
The interior was as decorated as the outside, though garlands replaced the trees. And, instead of stars on the ceiling, sprigs of mistletoe dangled from the buckets and baskets that hung there, enough to make it very difficult to move without somehow ending up beneath one.
The door slammed shut behind her.
And she was here with Merlin.
Mistake number three.
“Looks like Gwen got her wish,” Merlin commented.
He was staring up at the ceiling, still smiling, as Morgana gaped up at him. “You knew about this?”
“Well, sure. She’s been asking for my help for weeks.”
“Why didn’t she ask me?”
Merlin shrugged. “She said you didn’t seem interested this year, so she didn’t want to bug you with it.”
So not only was she about to suffer through the longest night of her life, trying to avoid letting on to Merlin about her little crush, it was only happening because she had thought she was being thoughtful and letting Gwen have free rein with the party.
“I need a drink,” she announced.
She had to take a crooked path to get to the bar without wandering into a mistletoe zone. When she tried to get the bartender’s attention, though, Merlin stopped her with a touch to her arm.
“Let’s try one of the holiday cocktails Gwen had done special,” he said.
Though she was quickly losing the Christmas spirit, she said, “Do they have alcohol in them?”
“Of course.”
“Then that’s all that matters.”
The bartender, a blond bear Morgana might have flirted with before she’d fallen for the dark side, approached. “What can I get you?”
Merlin took the lead. “What are the holiday specials?”
“There’s a mistletoe martini-”
“Absolutely not,” Morgana announced. “What else?”
“We have something called a snowstorm.”
Merlin brightened. “What’s in that?”
“Vodka, kahlua, and coconut milk.”
Morgana grimaced. “Ewww. No.”
“Pomegranate Punch?”
“No.”
“Cranberry margarita?”
“It’s Christmas, not a summer holiday.”
“Wait,” Merlin interrupted. “Did Gwen choose the Naughty and Nice?” When the bartender said yes, Merlin added, “Two of those.”
She wanted to argue, but the bartender was already turning away to fill the order. “What’s in them?” she asked instead.
Merlin shook his head. “You’ll have to wait and see.”
Not her strong suit. Shrugging out of her coat, she started to drape it over her arm, only to be stopped by Merlin.
“I’ll take care of that,” he said.
His fingertips grazed her bare skin as he took it from her, turning away before she could offer gratitude. He didn’t go far, just to the end of the bar where a young woman dressed as an elf was passing out coat checks. It was far enough to enjoy the view, though. The long, lean body. The surprisingly strong shoulders. Arthur teased him about being too thin, but Morgana knew that Merlin worked out daily in the office gym. He’d invited her along once or twice, but she’d always refused, too worried about getting caught staring. Her imagination was more than adequate to conjure up the images of a sweaty Merlin, thank you very much.
Merlin returned at the same time the bartender set down two innocuous pink drinks in French wine glasses in front of her. Sugared cranberries floated on top, while a stick with a Santa hat speared an orange slice, but otherwise, they seemed rather unremarkable.
Merlin lifted his glass. “Here’s to an unforgettable night.”
“But not so unforgettable that Father finds a reason to fire me tomorrow,” Morgana said.
Merlin chuckled, but Morgana was already taking a sip of her cocktail. At the first burst of ginger and whiskey on her taste buds, though, her eyes widened.
“Oh, this isn’t nearly as insipid as it looks!” she exclaimed.
“A Morgana Pendragon endorsement if I ever heard one,” Merlin replied. “I knew you’d like it.”
She took another drink, this time more critically assessing its flavors. “But it’s got cranberry. That’s part of why I vetoed the margarita.”
“The ginger and orange juice tone that down. Plus, it’s the only whiskey-based cocktail Gwen had on her shortlist. Since whiskey’s your favorite, it was a no-brainer.”
It was on the tip of her tongue to ask how he knew what her alcohol of choice was - she rarely drank in public and only sipped at red wine at the family functions he might have attended with Arthur - but the boisterous welcome from a group from Marketing shifted their focus. Immediately, Morgana put on her best what-a-wonderful-party mask and chattered away with them about inane details she wouldn’t remember in five minutes. She didn’t get a break when they drifted away, though, as a trio from Sales took their place. But halfway through chatting with them, she realized she’d cracked the solution to surviving this party without embarrassing herself with Merlin. Her place at the bar was mistletoe-free. As long as she never moved, she would be safe.
Half an hour later, she was still there. On her third Naughty and Nice, of course, because Merlin had been spot-on about her preferences. The cocktail also had a more-ish quality that made it impossible to turn down the bartender’s query when he asked if she wanted another. But she’d parked herself on one of the stools, “holding court” as Arthur had commented when he’d come around, and was flying surprisingly high considering she’d been dreading this evening so much.
Merlin remained at her elbow throughout, telling his own stories, laughing along at others’. The color had risen in his cheeks, and his already bright blue eyes practically sparkled whenever he looked at her. More than once, Morgana risked leaning closer, nudging him with a playful shoulder, angling toward his chest on the pretense of a better view of some girl Elyan was showing him on his phone. His cologne was new to her, something earthier than he usually wore in the office, and every inhalation sparked a fresh tingle in her thighs. She had to cross her legs to get it to stop.
A sudden cough from Merlin broke the festive laughter. “Pardon,” he said, turning away from Elyan. As Morgana watched out of the corner of her eye, he gestured to the bartender for one of the bottles of water on the back counter.
“You all right?” she asked.
He waved her off as he twisted the cap. Closing his eyes, he swigged down a third of the bottle, then cleared his throat. “That last bit of my drink went down the wrong way,” he said in explanation.
Morgana frowned. His glass was empty, but she could’ve sworn he’d finished it a few minutes ago. “Would you like some fresh air?”
He shook his head, then hesitated. “Actually, I’m peckish. Want to head over to the buffet table to see what there is to nosh on?”
Food was probably a good idea. She hadn’t had a bite since breakfast, and her head was a little light from all the drinks. She hopped off the stool and surprised both of them by grabbing his hand. “Let’s go.”
For being only ten feet away, it took a solid twenty minutes for them to reach the table. People kept stopping them along the way, forcing her into conversations while the music swirled around her. When they paused, she let go of Merlin’s hand - reluctantly - and acted as casually as she could with him standing so near. She grabbed it once they started up again, but when the second group intercepted them, she was forced to drop it again. Merlin surprised her by settling his now-free hand in the small of her back, just the slightest of weights but warm and comforting and did she really have to talk to all these people when the only person who mattered in the room was Merlin?
“-don’t you think, Morgana?”
Morgana blinked. She’d zoned out there for a moment, too distracted by Merlin’s touch, and completely missed what Vivian had been prattling on about. Her thoughts scrambled for a response that didn’t get her in trouble, but as if he had a second sense about her distress, Merlin spoke up first.
“I think that sounds like work talk which completely defeats the purpose of the evening,” he said, though his smile mitigated the harshness of the words.
“Why don’t you and I talk about this after the New Year?” Morgana said to Vivian. “Merlin’s right. Nothing is so important that it can’t wait until after the holiday.”
Though Vivian seemed disappointed, she let them walk away without fuss. As soon as they were out of earshot, Morgana leaned closer and murmured, “Thanks for the save.”
His touch firmed at her back, and she felt his smile rather than fully saw it. “I’m not sure I did you much good in the end. You’re the one who now has to listen to her new idea about the social media accounts.”
But at least she didn’t look like an idiot, and for that, she truly was grateful.
The buffet table was free of mistletoe, thank goodness. Probably because sensible Gwen would’ve seen it as a means of slowing people down from grabbing food. She and Merlin moved along opposite sides, but where she tried to aim for healthier options, he loaded his up with every calorie-loaded confection and appetizer his long arms could reach.
“Now you’re just showing off,” she complained when he took one of the miniature sticky toffee puddings at the end.
“Take one,” he pressed.
“And watch it go straight to my thighs? I don’t think so.”
His gaze slid down her body in an appraising way he never displayed at the office. The boldness of it shocked her, but not nearly as much as the way he lingered on the reverse path back up. When his eyes met hers, they were darker, the pupils dilated, heat banked in their depths.
“If you want it, you should take it,” he said simply. “You might discover it was the best choice you ever made.”
Maybe it was the cocktails going to her head. Maybe it was how tired she was of pretending not to want him. Maybe it was because Gwen and Arthur and all their romantic rubbish had finally rubbed off on her. But all of a sudden, Morgana didn’t want to ignore what she’d been feeling anymore.
Deliberately, she came around the corner of the table and set down the plate so her hands were free. “You make that sound like an invitation.” Catching the end of his tie, she wound it loosely through her fingers. It would tighten if he pulled away - please don’t pull away - but for now, she relished the sensation of the silk against her skin. “Are you flirting with me, Merlin?”
“No.”
The single word came out without hesitation, low and matter-of-fact. Her heart pounded in terror at what an egregious mistake she’d made. The alcohol had muddied her senses, and she’d just ruined a perfectly good friendship because she’d been foolish enough to let her guard down.
When she tried to let go of his tie, though, Merlin covered her hand with his and held it in place.
“I’ve been flirting with you for months and it’s got me nowhere,” he went on. “I even tried tonight with all the mistletoe.”
“Wait.” She gestured to the sprigs gone wild that started only a few feet away. “You said it was Gwen’s wish.”
“It was.” He shrugged. “I might’ve been the one to give her the idea in the first place.”
“But why?”
“A last ditch effort to finally kiss you. Even if you blamed it all on the alcohol tomorrow.”
The terror that had kept her in its grip loosened, replaced with a fervent urge to shout for joy. Her feelings weren’t one-side, after all. Everything that she had fantasized about could be hers. Starting with a single kiss.
Tugging on his tie, she pulled him closer until their lips were only a breath apart. “I’m not going to blame it on the cocktails,” she whispered.
The corner of his mouth tilted upward. “But we’re not under the mistletoe here.”
“I don’t care.”
His breath was warm and sweet as she captured his lips in the kiss she’d been dreaming about. When her head swam now, it was because of the heat radiating between them, the tingle of his tongue tangling with hers. She had no fear of falling, though. Merlin’s free arm wrapped around her back and pressed their bodies together. More than anything, she felt like she would float away if he didn’t keep hold of her.
They were both panting when they parted. Instead of straightening, Merlin rested his brow against hers.
“I’ve waited for this for so long, it hardly feels real,” he said softly.
“That’s because we’re trapped inside Christmas decorations gone mad,” she teased.
“It is a little much,” he conceded.
Morgana laughed. Abandoning their plates, she tightened her hold on his tie and began winding a path back to the coat check. More than one person raised an eyebrow as they passed, but Morgana didn’t care. She kept her head high. So did Merlin. He never faltered as she retrieved their jackets and continued their way out of the pub.
“Are you going to tell me where we’re going?” he said on the pavement.
She paused. “Would knowing the answer to that question change your mind about coming with me?” she asked.
Merlin shook his head.
Morgana smiled. “Since you’re the best gift I could’ve asked for, I’ve decided to unwrap you in private. If that’s all right with you.”
Laughing, Merlin brushed another kiss across her temple. “And to think I thought you agreeing to come to the party together was the best miracle I could’ve hoped for.”
Her heart swelled. An hour ago, she’d called it something else. Now, she knew it hadn’t been a mistake, after all.