(no subject)
- I passed my driving test! \o/ And now I'm cruisin' round town (tryin' not to stall at every set of lights). Getting into the car on my own for the first time was terrifying, but at least now I can listen to whatever CDs I want in the car.
- kelene wrote Merlin/GK fic, and lo, it is a thing of great beauty. And that inspired me to finish the thing set in the same 'verse that I started for kelene birthday, which was, uh, a few months ago. I think I'm the only person whom internet-time passes more slowly.
So, happy really-belated birthday, kelene?
Untitled GK/Merlin mini-fic!
The argument with Merlin arises over something so trivial that Arthur can't even remember what it was, but escalates into a full-blown shouting match.
"... and I'm sick of it," Merlin finishes, "sick of you thinking that you're so superior, that the sun shines out of your arse - "
"Fine," Arthur snaps. "Then you can piss off and find another job, at least then I might find someone competent - "
The slam of the door behind Merlin prevents Arthur from finishing his sentence, leaving him alone and furious. He doesn't know how Merlin does it, gets under his skin and make him so angry he wants to scream. It's probably to do with the way that Merlin's the only person that talks to him as if he's a person, as opposed to royalty, but knowing this doesn't make Arthur any less inclined to forgive him.
He has the presence of mind to wait five minutes, long enough so that he won't see Merlin in the corridor, then strides out of his room, not stopping to grab his coat before leaving the house via one of the back entrances. At least he's not staying at the palace - the last thing he wants now is a load of papparazzi in his face.
He makes it ten yards before Brad catches up to him. "I can take a walk by myself," he growls.
Arthur's introduction to his new bodyguard went something like this:
"Ah," Uther said, peering over his glasses to look at Arthur. "Arthur, there's someone I want you to meet." He gestured to the blond giant of a man standing next to him. "This is Sergeant Brad Colbert of the US Marines. He's currently serving with the British Royal Marines, and he's going to be in charge of your personal security for the foreseeable future.
The argument with Merlin arises over something so trivial that Arthur can't even remember what it was, but escalates into a full-blown shouting match.
"... and I'm sick of it," Merlin finishes, "sick of you thinking that you're so superior, that the sun shines out of your arse - "
"Fine," Arthur snaps. "Then you can piss off and find another job, at least then I might find someone competent - "
The slam of the door behind Merlin prevents Arthur from finishing his sentence, leaving him alone and furious. He doesn't know how Merlin does it, gets under his skin and make him so angry he wants to scream. It's probably to do with the way that Merlin's the only person that talks to him as if he's a person, as opposed to royalty, but knowing this doesn't make Arthur any less inclined to forgive him.
He has the presence of mind to wait five minutes, long enough so that he won't see Merlin in the corridor, then strides out of his room, not stopping to grab his coat before leaving the house via one of the back entrances. At least he's not staying at the palace - the last thing he wants now is a load of paparazzi in his face.
He makes it ten yards before Brad catches up to him. "I can take a walk by myself," he growls.
"Just following orders," Brad says easily, which only enrages Arthur further. He doesn't need to be reminded of his father's obsessive overprotection. He knows better than to argue, though, - it isn't fair that someone who could probably kill Arthur with his little finger can also cut him down with a few words.
They continue in silence. Arthur doesn't have a direction in mind; he just needs to blow off some steam. He's still pissed off with Merlin, but the longer he thinks, the more irrational his anger becomes, which pisses him off more. Because, yeah, Merlin had only told Arthur what he didn't want to hear, and Arthur may have over-reacted a little, and he really hates being in the wrong. And having to apologise. And he doesn't really want Merlin to find a new job - Merlin is damn good at what he does, and also gives good blowjobs, which Arthur would really like not to be deprived of.
Maybe if he can make some gesture to show that he's sorry, instead of actually apologising. Maybe he could buy Merlin something. Nothing expensive; Merlin had shouted at him enough when Arthur, unsure as to how to do the whole present-giving thing, had bought him a Rolex for Christmas. It had seemed like a good idea at the time, Arthur had protested, seeing how Merlin's time-keeping skills were absolutely dreadful, but then Merlin had gone all huffy and muttered about 'privileged too-rich-for-their-own-good monarchy'.
"Do you think Merlin would like a book?" he asks Brad, still keeping step behind him.
"How the fuck should I know?"
"Maybe an autobiography. Or one of those books about Medieval England, I've seen him reading those..."
"Or maybe you should just buy him the gay fucking Karma Sutra so he can discover more ways of taking it up the ass for you."
Two months of having Brad as his bodyguard has prevented Arthur from taking offense every time Brad opens his mouth, but hasn't made him any less likely to blush. "Merlin isn't... I don't..."
"Yeah, save it for the press release. A blind nun could see your hard-on for the kid."
Arthur ignores him, as he’s pretty sure Brad’s lying. At the very least, he knows his father has no idea that he’s shagging his PA, because he has no doubt that Uther would have a few choice words to say about it. He wonders if Brad’s contract extends to protecting Arthur from his father, Brad’s employer.
They come to a stop outside the bookshop. It's one of those old, antique types, that have first-edition hardbacks in the back and boxes full of books for 50p. Ignoring Brad's pointed sigh, he begins browsing the shelves outside.
He's just picked up a book for Merlin, 'Common medicines of the 15th century' - for someone who works as a PA, Merlin has some bizarre interests - and is reaching for his wallet when a huge weight crashes into him and a loud crack echoes over his head somewhere.
"What the - " he says out loud, when he realises the weight on top of him is Brad, and then there's another bang, this time with a faint whooshing sound, and he realises, Oh my God those are gunshots. Brad is suddenly holding a gun, and pushing Arthur behind a bookshelf, crouching behind it alongside him. Someone screams, and the people milling around the bookstore panic, shouting and frantically dialling their phones.
"Is that - is someone shooting at me? As in, with bullets?" Brad, unsurprisingly, pays no attention to him, and ducks his head over the top of the shelf, gun ready beside him. His expression is completely blank. Suddenly, it isn't hard at all for Arthur to imagine this man killing people.
There's one more shot, Arthur flinching instinctively although his position beside Brad Colbert is probably the safest place to be in a two mile radius, and Brad fires back, one shot only, finger squeezing the trigger as calm as anything Arthur's ever seen.
"Shooter's down," he says. Arthur's breathing too fast, his heart beating as if he's just sprinted a race, still trying to grasp the fact that someone just tried to kill him. And then Brad's hand is on the back of his neck, heavy and reassuring, and he's saying, "Breathe, it's OK, put your head between your legs and take deep breaths..."
Arthur obeys, eyes closed. There's a lump in his throat that he's desperately trying to swallow down, and his eyes are stinging - he hasn't cried in front of anyone since he was seven, and he isn't about to start in front of Brad - and it's stupid anyway, because he's fine, the danger's over, but he really is having the worst day ever.
He sits for a while, hunched over, Brad's hand still on his neck as he pulls out his phone and calls a direct line to the palace security. The book Arthur picked up for Merlin is still clenched in his hand, forgotten in the chaos, and Arthur pulls a £10 note out of his wallet and leaves it on the bookshelf without really thinking about it. A book and a near-death experience has to be enough to earn Merlin's forgiveness.
When a black car pulls up, Brad guides him to the back seat, gun still in his hand. There are people everywhere, policemen attempting to calm the crowd, secret service agents in sunglasses talking into headpieces - an attempt on the life of the heir to the throne is a pretty serious incident. Arthur’s starting to calm down now, heart rate almost returned to normal, and a panic attack no longer imminent. "Thank you," he says to Brad once they’re in the car. Brad makes a non-committal sound.
On arriving back at the palace, he’s forced to endure a full medical exam, despite insisting that there’s nothing wrong with him, and then a phone call to his frantic father, who is on a state visit to South Africa. After the sixth, "I’m fine, honestly," he’s finally allowed back to his quarters. Merlin is waiting, ashen-faced, in his bedroom. Arthur opens his mouth -- to apologise, perhaps -- but ends up saying, "I bought you a book." He lifts it up, feeling foolish.
"You stupid idiot," Merlin says, before striding towards Arthur and throwing his arms around him, squeezing the breath out of him. Arthur tenses for a second, before giving in and pulling Merlin closer against him.
"Jesus Christ, get a fucking room," comes Brad’s voice from the doorway. Arthur lifts his head to glare at him as Merlin hastily backs away.
"Just because you saved my life, doesn’t mean I can’t take disciplinary action against you for talking to me inappropriately."
"Whatever," Brad says dismissively. "The sniper was a lone shooter, by the way. Took a shot from the rooftops of nearby building. They think he was just a crazy anti-monarchist, working alone, so your old man has less to worry about."
"That’s good," Arthur says.
"For you, maybe. My life would have been a whole lot easier if he’d have got the shot; wouldn’t have to spend every day following round your buck-toothed, inbred self."
Arthur grins. "Well, you’ll be happy to hear that your services won’t be required for the evening, seeing how I’ll be spending it in my room."
Brad eyes them both. "In that case, can you try to fucking keep it down while you’re ‘getting some’? These walls aren’t soundproof, you know." With that, he turns and leaves.
"Who said anything about getting some?" Merlin asks. "I can’t be bought with just a book, you know."
"But Merlin, I was almost killed today. A man tried to shoot me! You have no idea how good it feels to be alive - surely that deserves celebrating."
Merlin rolls his eyes. "Manipulative bastard."
"It’s why you love me," Arthur tells him, and drags him towards the bedroom.
- kelene wrote Merlin/GK fic, and lo, it is a thing of great beauty. And that inspired me to finish the thing set in the same 'verse that I started for kelene birthday, which was, uh, a few months ago. I think I'm the only person whom internet-time passes more slowly.
So, happy really-belated birthday, kelene?
Untitled GK/Merlin mini-fic!
The argument with Merlin arises over something so trivial that Arthur can't even remember what it was, but escalates into a full-blown shouting match.
"... and I'm sick of it," Merlin finishes, "sick of you thinking that you're so superior, that the sun shines out of your arse - "
"Fine," Arthur snaps. "Then you can piss off and find another job, at least then I might find someone competent - "
The slam of the door behind Merlin prevents Arthur from finishing his sentence, leaving him alone and furious. He doesn't know how Merlin does it, gets under his skin and make him so angry he wants to scream. It's probably to do with the way that Merlin's the only person that talks to him as if he's a person, as opposed to royalty, but knowing this doesn't make Arthur any less inclined to forgive him.
He has the presence of mind to wait five minutes, long enough so that he won't see Merlin in the corridor, then strides out of his room, not stopping to grab his coat before leaving the house via one of the back entrances. At least he's not staying at the palace - the last thing he wants now is a load of papparazzi in his face.
He makes it ten yards before Brad catches up to him. "I can take a walk by myself," he growls.
Arthur's introduction to his new bodyguard went something like this:
"Ah," Uther said, peering over his glasses to look at Arthur. "Arthur, there's someone I want you to meet." He gestured to the blond giant of a man standing next to him. "This is Sergeant Brad Colbert of the US Marines. He's currently serving with the British Royal Marines, and he's going to be in charge of your personal security for the foreseeable future.
The argument with Merlin arises over something so trivial that Arthur can't even remember what it was, but escalates into a full-blown shouting match.
"... and I'm sick of it," Merlin finishes, "sick of you thinking that you're so superior, that the sun shines out of your arse - "
"Fine," Arthur snaps. "Then you can piss off and find another job, at least then I might find someone competent - "
The slam of the door behind Merlin prevents Arthur from finishing his sentence, leaving him alone and furious. He doesn't know how Merlin does it, gets under his skin and make him so angry he wants to scream. It's probably to do with the way that Merlin's the only person that talks to him as if he's a person, as opposed to royalty, but knowing this doesn't make Arthur any less inclined to forgive him.
He has the presence of mind to wait five minutes, long enough so that he won't see Merlin in the corridor, then strides out of his room, not stopping to grab his coat before leaving the house via one of the back entrances. At least he's not staying at the palace - the last thing he wants now is a load of paparazzi in his face.
He makes it ten yards before Brad catches up to him. "I can take a walk by myself," he growls.
"Just following orders," Brad says easily, which only enrages Arthur further. He doesn't need to be reminded of his father's obsessive overprotection. He knows better than to argue, though, - it isn't fair that someone who could probably kill Arthur with his little finger can also cut him down with a few words.
They continue in silence. Arthur doesn't have a direction in mind; he just needs to blow off some steam. He's still pissed off with Merlin, but the longer he thinks, the more irrational his anger becomes, which pisses him off more. Because, yeah, Merlin had only told Arthur what he didn't want to hear, and Arthur may have over-reacted a little, and he really hates being in the wrong. And having to apologise. And he doesn't really want Merlin to find a new job - Merlin is damn good at what he does, and also gives good blowjobs, which Arthur would really like not to be deprived of.
Maybe if he can make some gesture to show that he's sorry, instead of actually apologising. Maybe he could buy Merlin something. Nothing expensive; Merlin had shouted at him enough when Arthur, unsure as to how to do the whole present-giving thing, had bought him a Rolex for Christmas. It had seemed like a good idea at the time, Arthur had protested, seeing how Merlin's time-keeping skills were absolutely dreadful, but then Merlin had gone all huffy and muttered about 'privileged too-rich-for-their-own-good monarchy'.
"Do you think Merlin would like a book?" he asks Brad, still keeping step behind him.
"How the fuck should I know?"
"Maybe an autobiography. Or one of those books about Medieval England, I've seen him reading those..."
"Or maybe you should just buy him the gay fucking Karma Sutra so he can discover more ways of taking it up the ass for you."
Two months of having Brad as his bodyguard has prevented Arthur from taking offense every time Brad opens his mouth, but hasn't made him any less likely to blush. "Merlin isn't... I don't..."
"Yeah, save it for the press release. A blind nun could see your hard-on for the kid."
Arthur ignores him, as he’s pretty sure Brad’s lying. At the very least, he knows his father has no idea that he’s shagging his PA, because he has no doubt that Uther would have a few choice words to say about it. He wonders if Brad’s contract extends to protecting Arthur from his father, Brad’s employer.
They come to a stop outside the bookshop. It's one of those old, antique types, that have first-edition hardbacks in the back and boxes full of books for 50p. Ignoring Brad's pointed sigh, he begins browsing the shelves outside.
He's just picked up a book for Merlin, 'Common medicines of the 15th century' - for someone who works as a PA, Merlin has some bizarre interests - and is reaching for his wallet when a huge weight crashes into him and a loud crack echoes over his head somewhere.
"What the - " he says out loud, when he realises the weight on top of him is Brad, and then there's another bang, this time with a faint whooshing sound, and he realises, Oh my God those are gunshots. Brad is suddenly holding a gun, and pushing Arthur behind a bookshelf, crouching behind it alongside him. Someone screams, and the people milling around the bookstore panic, shouting and frantically dialling their phones.
"Is that - is someone shooting at me? As in, with bullets?" Brad, unsurprisingly, pays no attention to him, and ducks his head over the top of the shelf, gun ready beside him. His expression is completely blank. Suddenly, it isn't hard at all for Arthur to imagine this man killing people.
There's one more shot, Arthur flinching instinctively although his position beside Brad Colbert is probably the safest place to be in a two mile radius, and Brad fires back, one shot only, finger squeezing the trigger as calm as anything Arthur's ever seen.
"Shooter's down," he says. Arthur's breathing too fast, his heart beating as if he's just sprinted a race, still trying to grasp the fact that someone just tried to kill him. And then Brad's hand is on the back of his neck, heavy and reassuring, and he's saying, "Breathe, it's OK, put your head between your legs and take deep breaths..."
Arthur obeys, eyes closed. There's a lump in his throat that he's desperately trying to swallow down, and his eyes are stinging - he hasn't cried in front of anyone since he was seven, and he isn't about to start in front of Brad - and it's stupid anyway, because he's fine, the danger's over, but he really is having the worst day ever.
He sits for a while, hunched over, Brad's hand still on his neck as he pulls out his phone and calls a direct line to the palace security. The book Arthur picked up for Merlin is still clenched in his hand, forgotten in the chaos, and Arthur pulls a £10 note out of his wallet and leaves it on the bookshelf without really thinking about it. A book and a near-death experience has to be enough to earn Merlin's forgiveness.
When a black car pulls up, Brad guides him to the back seat, gun still in his hand. There are people everywhere, policemen attempting to calm the crowd, secret service agents in sunglasses talking into headpieces - an attempt on the life of the heir to the throne is a pretty serious incident. Arthur’s starting to calm down now, heart rate almost returned to normal, and a panic attack no longer imminent. "Thank you," he says to Brad once they’re in the car. Brad makes a non-committal sound.
On arriving back at the palace, he’s forced to endure a full medical exam, despite insisting that there’s nothing wrong with him, and then a phone call to his frantic father, who is on a state visit to South Africa. After the sixth, "I’m fine, honestly," he’s finally allowed back to his quarters. Merlin is waiting, ashen-faced, in his bedroom. Arthur opens his mouth -- to apologise, perhaps -- but ends up saying, "I bought you a book." He lifts it up, feeling foolish.
"You stupid idiot," Merlin says, before striding towards Arthur and throwing his arms around him, squeezing the breath out of him. Arthur tenses for a second, before giving in and pulling Merlin closer against him.
"Jesus Christ, get a fucking room," comes Brad’s voice from the doorway. Arthur lifts his head to glare at him as Merlin hastily backs away.
"Just because you saved my life, doesn’t mean I can’t take disciplinary action against you for talking to me inappropriately."
"Whatever," Brad says dismissively. "The sniper was a lone shooter, by the way. Took a shot from the rooftops of nearby building. They think he was just a crazy anti-monarchist, working alone, so your old man has less to worry about."
"That’s good," Arthur says.
"For you, maybe. My life would have been a whole lot easier if he’d have got the shot; wouldn’t have to spend every day following round your buck-toothed, inbred self."
Arthur grins. "Well, you’ll be happy to hear that your services won’t be required for the evening, seeing how I’ll be spending it in my room."
Brad eyes them both. "In that case, can you try to fucking keep it down while you’re ‘getting some’? These walls aren’t soundproof, you know." With that, he turns and leaves.
"Who said anything about getting some?" Merlin asks. "I can’t be bought with just a book, you know."
"But Merlin, I was almost killed today. A man tried to shoot me! You have no idea how good it feels to be alive - surely that deserves celebrating."
Merlin rolls his eyes. "Manipulative bastard."
"It’s why you love me," Arthur tells him, and drags him towards the bedroom.