Hello, Sunshine [9A/25]
Title: Dog Days are Over
Spoilers: None, really. Maybe some throwbacks to the show in later chapters. There's also pop culture galore, but I never really spoil anything.
Rating: PG-13/ T
Words: 68, 007 (Total)
Pairings: Arthur/Gwen, Lancelot/Gwen, Merlin/Freya, Morgana/Leon (still on the fence about Merlin/Morgana)
Genre: AU/Romance/Humor/Mystery/Drama [FF.net only allows two genres...]
Summary: By happenstance, Gwen comes across a job opportunity: be a nanny for Arthur Pendragon's son. It would have been great, if the child wasn't evil incarnate and if she wasn't slowly falling for her boss, who she thinks would never go for a basket case like her.
A/N: The previous chapters can also be found at my ff.net profile : www.fanfiction.net/~mikihime.
Dog Days Are Over
Gwen sat up in bed, having just woken up from a wonderful dream. She smiled as she stretched, her mind replaying the images from the night before. She, Guinevere Leodegrance, had sung a duet with the Prince of Pop. Who was her boyfriend.
She wasn't a very materialistic girl and didn't have many valuable possessions. That being said, she did appreciate the finer things in life and understood that being privy to Lance's attentions made her a lucky girl indeed.
As she stepped off the bed, her foot touched something warm and plushy. Eyes widening, she crawled back on her bed and screamed.
The thing on the ground rose suddenly, the white blanket obscuring its form completely. Thinking quickly, she grabbed her pillow and swung it back and forth at the thing standing over her.
"Hey! Ouch! Guinevere, it's me!"
The blanket slipped off to reveal a very tousled, looking Arthur Pendragon. And, by God, he was pouting.
"What're you doing here?" she asked, focusing on his eyes and nowhere else.
"You were screaming last night in your sleep," he told her, rubbing the side of his head. "It took me a while to calm you down. I stayed because I wanted to be here if it happened again."
"So you slept on the floor?" she asked, astounded.
"That's me," he said, sighing dramatically, "valiant to a fault. Your knight and shining armor. The Richard Gere to your Julia Roberts."
She hit him lightly with her pillow.
"Hey!" he said, grabbing it and pulling it away from her. "What was that for?"
"For implying that I'm a hooker," she said looking him up and down skeptically, "and for implying that you're anywhere near as handsome as Richard Gere used to be."
"For one thing, I was referring to Runaway Bride, not Pretty Woman," he said, "and for another I am at least on par wit him. Just look at these cheekbones! And let me tell you, I've got quite the smolder."
He demonstrated and Gwen placed her hand over her mouth to contain her laughter. He looked like he'd tasted something sour.
"The only thing you'll succeed in with that face," she said, raising an eyebrow, "is scaring away small children."
She felt a rush of air and the soft impact of the pillow hitting her temple.
"Never insult the smolder," he warned, sending her a mock glare. "I've spent years perfecting it."
She looked at him doubtfully.
"Maybe you should call Richard Gere so he can show you how it's done," she teased.
He swung the pillow at her, but she anticipated his movements and quickly rolled onto her bed, grabbing a pillow and rising to face him on the other side.
"Are you challenging the pillow fighting Champion?" she asked, holding the pillow like some kind of weapon.
"Self-proclaimed?"
"Ask Susie McIntyre and I think you'll change your mind about that," she said proudly.
"I think-"
He didn't really have time to think. Gwen threw one of her throw pillows at him and, while he was distracted, she lunged, giggling as she pummeled him with her pillow.
He pulled his pillow over his head and started hitting her lightly on the head.
"No fair!" she squealed, sounding very much like a two-year-old. "You're taller than me. That's against the rules, you big cheater!"
"I'm guessing these rules come from the arbitrary rule book of Guinevere Leodegrance?" he asked, laughing. "I can't help it if you're a munchkin."
She started hitting him much harder after that and the only thing he could do was block her swift movements with his pillow.
"I. AM. AVERAGE. HEIGHT!" she said through gritted teeth.
"Alright, Alright!" he said holding his hands up and backing away. "You're tall. You're a giant! Just stop hitting-"
His foot slipped on the blanket and he began falling backwards onto the bed. In his panic, his arm grabbed hers and she fell right onto the bed with him and collided right onto his chest.
"Ompf!"
A curtain of hair fell over one side of his face and, suddenly, his eyes were full of Guinevere.
"No one actually says 'Ompf' when they fall," he said, his voice sounding a little huskier than he intended. "You've been watching too many cartoons."
"This is the second time I've fallen on you," she said, looking down on him. "I think this bed is cursed."
Care to try it out? Arthur thought.
He watched her eyes scan his face and she looked appreciative. It made it even harder to resist the urge to close the gap between them. If she lay on top of him for any longer, he didn't think he could stop himself.
"Say it," he ordered, glaring at her a little.
"Alright, fine," she said, rolling off of him to lay by his, "you do have excellent cheekbones."
"And I'm quite handsome," he added, "the most handsome man you've ever-"
"Don't push your luck," she said, narrowing her eyes. "Honestly, I don't know how your wife ever-"
She promptly shut her mouth when she saw the smile melt off his face quicker than butter in a skillet. She mentally berated herself for her uncouth comment. It wasn't proper for her to say something like that without knowing who Mrs. Pendragon was or what she was like.
"What do you know of my wife?" he asked, after a long silence.
"Mordred told me his mother sends him things," she said truthfully, "which means she's still alive, of course. I noticed there are no pictures of her around the house, which I thought was a bit odd-"
"You talked to my son about his mother?" he asked in a voice she'd never heard before.
"I'm sorry," she said softly avoiding his eyes. "I didn't mean… I shouldn't have… I was only trying to…"
She trailed off when she saw the look of anger on Arthur's face. It sent a white-hot bolt of electricity down her spine and she couldn't look at him too long. He'd never looked that angry with her.
"It pains me to say this, but speak of her again and I might just have to fire you," he said, looking as serious as she'd ever seen him. "I never want to hear that you've asked my son about her or that you've been snooping around. It's not your job. And it's not your place. You're my son's nanny. Just do me a favor and do your damn job."
Not her place. The words repeated in her head in a relentless cycle and it hurt like hell to hear something like that come from his mouth. What he'd really meant was: I don't trust you enough to tell you.
"Alright," she said, feeling her shoulders sag at the weight of his heated glare, "I won't ask. I won't pry. I promise. I know my place."
She searched his eyes for something else, but all they reflected was anger and, oddly, fear.
The anger dissipated and was replaced with a look of shame.
He reached out to touch her arm, but she recoiled in response.
"I've… upset you," he said, desperately trying to reach her eyes. "Guinevere, I-"
"If you don't mind, Mr. Pendragon," she said in a painfully polite tone, "I'd like to go take a shower."
"O-of course," he said, standing up quickly. "I'll just take me leave then."
He tried to meet her gaze but she was doing her best to avoid his eyes.
He turned around, cursing himself every step of the way. He fucked up. He'd made an ass of himself and it wasn't even noon yet.
The door closed softly behind him and Gwen stared at it for a moment feeling so angry she thought she would explode.
She pulled out her computer and opened iTunes. It was time for the anger trifecta: Aretha Franklin, Fiona Apple, and Alanis Moorisette.
"Oh my god," Merlin moaned covering his ears. "Make it stop!"
Merlin, Morgana, and Arthur were sitting around the kitchen table listening to Gwen's rendition of RESPECT. She normally had a lovely voice, but she was anger singing, which was hardly ever pleasing to the ears.
"Why are girls so weird, Daddy?" Mordred asked, looking terrified. "Why is she making those awful sounds?"
"What the hell did you do, Arthur?" asked Morgana, rounding on him.
"Why is it always my fault?" he asked. "How do you know it wasn't her-
Merlin, Morgana, and even Mordred looked at him incredulously.
"Fine," he said, sighing, "it was my fault. I said some things I shouldn't have."
"So you should be the one to go up there and apologize," said Merlin, placing his hands on Arthur's back and leading him to the staircase.
"Touch me again and I'll kill you," he hissed at his friend, who just rolled his eyes and returned to his seat.
"You guys are such wimps!" Morgana said in exasperation. "I'll go talk to her."
"God, I love you," Merlin said, standing up and hugging her tightly. "You're a Christian Martyr."
"You're quoting a Tennessee Williams play," she said. "It must be bad. You hate his work."
"I'm dying, Egypt, dying," he mumbled into her shoulder.
"Get him some water and a MARVEL comic quickly," she said, handing him over to Arthur, "He's quoting Shakespeare."
"I'm on it," he said, helping Merlin to his chair.
Morgana rushed up the stairs, covering her ears, as she got closer to the room.
"-R-E-S-P-E-C-T, FIND OUT WHAT IT MEANS TO ME!"
Morgana knocked on her door as hard as she could.
"GWEN! FOR GOD'S SAKE, SHUT UP!"
She stopped singing and after a few moments, Morgana heard the sound of shuffling feet and the twisting of the metal doorknob.
The door opened and Morgana's annoyance disappeared at the sight of her face.
She looked pissed as hell.
"Did Arthur send you up here to tell me to know my place?"
"Whoa," Morgana said, holding her hands up, "don't shoot the messenger. You were slowly murdering us all with your anger fest I had to come up here and stop you."
"Was I that loud?" said Gwen, looking a bit embarrassed.
"They could probably hear you from Jupiter," Morgana said. "Now let me in so we can talk."
Gwen didn't deny her. She just collapsed on her bed, looking sullen.
"Your choice of anger music is interesting," said Morgana, sitting next to her. "Though I would have chosen Lily Allen for a time like this."
"Too much profanity," said Gwen, shaking her head. "Though I considered it."
"You're too adorable for words," said Morgana, pinching Gwen's cheeks, "even when you're 'angry'."
"I wasn't going for that," Gwen mumbled, "but thanks all the same."
"Now tell me what my brother said to you," Morgana said, crossing her legs.
"I happened to mention Mordred's mother in passing," Gwen said slowly, trying to keep her anger at bay, "I told him Mordred had told me about her. Arthur told me I should know my place and reminded me very clearly where my place was."
Morgana stayed silent for a long time before she began speaking carefully.
"You have to know," she said, placing a hand on Gwen's knee, "that Mordred's mother is a… sore subject. It brings too many unwanted memories for Arthur. He doesn't want Mordred asking questions… and for good reason."
"You're being deliberately obtuse," Gwen said, sighing. "That's fine. It's not my business. That's not what's making me so angry-"
"I was getting to that," said Morgana, giving her knee a squeeze. "He should have told you gently. He shouldn't have made assumptions. I can understand why you're angry. He shouldn't have said those things to you. I give you full permission to kick his ass."
"I could never-"
"My God, Gwen," Morgana said in exasperation. "Woman up. Instead of sitting here pouring your heart out in song, you need to tell him that he hurt you, that you're angry, and you want to jump his bones."
Gwen raised an eyebrow.
"Maybe not that last bit," Morgana said. "I'll tell you what. Call up a friend. We're all going out. We're going to find a healthy outlet for your anger."
She got up, fully prepared to leave. Then she whirled around to face her.
"And if you're on my team," she said, threatening. "You need to be hardcore. Kickass. None of this courteous crap. I won't lose."
She closed the door behind her, leaving Gwen to wonder what on Earth she was talking about.
She pulled her phone out of the charger, thought hard, and pulled a piece of paper out of her drawer.
She'd forgotten all about it until now, but she'd promised Tristan she would call at some point.
The phone rang for a few moments before someone picked up.
"Hello?"
Her voice was soft and delicate, like a summer breeze. It was very pleasing to the ear. She didn't know why Tristan seemed so afraid of her when he mentioned her at the coffee shop.
"Hi, Iseult" said Gwen, "This is Guinevere. Your boyfriend, Tristan-"
"Oh my God. No!" she said, starting to hyperventilate. "Is he cheating on me? Are you the whore who's sleeping with him. You have some nerve calling me on my cell phone-"
"No!" said Gwen, surprised the girl's sudden change of tone. "No. He asked me to show you around. One of my friends is taking us out and she said I could bring a friend if I wanted. I don't know you, but I thought you might like to come."
"Oh," she said, her voice going back to normal, "I'm sorry. Sure. I'll come. Just tell me where I should meet you."
"I'll call you later to let you know," Gwen said, smiling. "I'm not even sure where we're going yet."
"Thank you so much for inviting me," Iseult said, sounding delighted. "I can't wait to meet you and your friends."
"See you then."
When she was certain the call was over, she sighed and held the phone in her palm. She thought hard before she dialed the next number. She knew deep inside that she was making the wrong decision in doing so but, as they say, hell hath no fury like a woman scorned.
"You can't be serious," Gwen said to Morgana as Charlie pulled up to their destination. "This is your idea of a family venue?"
The building was rather large and circular, like a new age Coliseum. It was several stories high, with identical windows placed randomly throughout the building.
The sign in front read Extreme Paintball.
"Oh don't be such a killjoy, Gwen," Morgana said, tutting at her. "It's the perfect place to let out all of that rage. After all, the bastard did cheat on you and used you to get to your brother."
Gwen raised an eyebrow at her.
"Why do I get the feeling this is more about you than me?" she asked.
"It's about the both of us. Besides," Morgana said narrowing her eyes, "I've also got a score to settle with my half-witted brother-"
"I'm right here, you know," said Arthur, waving from the other side of the Limo. "I can hear everything you're saying."
He sent a significant glance towards Gwen, who immediately turned away from him. He wasn't going to get off that easily.
"Damn right you should, you cheating little bastard," Morgana seethed.
"You're just bitter because I'm still the reigning champion," Arthur challenged. "All this time and you've still never been able to beat me."
"Because you're a cheater," Morgana retorted.
"That's never been confirmed," said Arthur, rolling his eyes. "You're just a sore loser!"
"AM NOT!"
"YOU SO ARE!"
Gwen sighed as she opened the door and stepped out, ignoring the pleading glances from Mordred and Merlin. She didn't want to deal with their childish arguing today. She usually found it amusing, but today, it was definitely grating on her nerves.
Another limo pulled up a few minutes later, followed by a red Volkswagen Beatle.
The sleek white door opened first, and Gwen felt relieved for the first time since she'd woken up from her dream.
"Lance," she said, smiling, "You managed to get away from work?"
"Don't you know," he said, smiling roguishly, "I always take off on Sundays in case you want to go out."
She gave him a skeptical look as she noticed he was still wearing black sparkly eyeliner.
He followed her gaze and rubbed frantically at his eyes. When he was finished he looked a little embarrassed.
"Alright, you got me," he said, sighing heavily. "I kind of… escaped from a rehearsal."
"Now why would you do something like that?"
"You sent me the address for this place," he said, gesturing to the massive building. "I used to go here several times when I was younger. Nostalgia, you know," he said, looking her up and down appreciatively. "Besides, when will I get another opportunity to see you in such sexy gear?"
Gwen blushed.
"Are you Gwen?" asked a voice from behind Lancelot.
Gwen craned her neck, looking for the source of the voice.
A rather pale blond woman was running up to her, waving enthusiastically.
"You must be Isuelt," Gwen said, returning the smile. "I'm sorry. I didn't know Morgana would be bringing us-"
"PAINTBALL?" Isuelt squealed, clapping as she jumped up in down in her excitement. "OMG. Tristan hasn't taken me since I beat him miserably the last time! YES!"
She launched her self on Gwen and hugged her tightly. Gwen patted her awkwardly on the back, glaring at Lance who was laughing raucously.
"Wait," Isuelt said, releasing Gwen at last and eying Lancelot curiously. "You look really familiar…"
"He's my boyfriend," Gwen said, side stepping her to stand next to Lance. "Lance, Isuelt. Isuelt, Lance."
"Pleasure to meet you," said Isuelt, who looked mollified for the moment.
"Likewise," said Lance, bowing his head to her slightly. "Any friend of Gwen's is a friend of mine."
The door to the black stretch limo opened and Merlin emerged, dragging Arthur along with him.
"You just not woman enough to admit that I BEAT YOU!" he yelled back to the open door.
"And what kind of self-respecting man reads ROMANCE NOVELS?" said a voice Gwen recognized as Morgana's.
Mordred dragged her out of the car with his little hands and she emerged from the dark expanse of the car looking livid.
"I just want to know how the female mind works," he explained. "It's a closest thing to a handbook us men will ever get-"
He stopped talking when he caught sight of Lance, who was standing rather closely to Gwen and raising an eyebrow at him in pure amusement.
"And what the HELL are you doing here?" Arthur seethed. "I sure didn't invite you."
Gwen felt Lancelot's arm snake around her waist, pulling her in closer to his side. This was it. It was now or never.
"Of course you didn't," Lance said, looking down at Gwen who was struggling to smile. "Gwen did."
Morgana's eyes widened and her mouth was opening and closing like a gaping fish. She raised an arm to point at Lance as she struggled to find her words. Gwen groaned. She could tell by the slightly manic look in her eye that Morgana… was a fangirl.
"IT'S YOU!" she screamed. "Oh. My. God. I've seen so many of your concerts. I'm a HUGE fan of your music."
Merlin placed a calming hand on her shoulder. "Morgana. Calm down. It's going to be alright."
"Daddy," Mordred said, tugging at his father's suit sleeve. "Why does Auntie Morgana look crazy?"
"Because all girls are crazy," Arthur said through gritted teeth. "Remember that always, son."
Isuelt seemed to be catching on and her eyes widened as she stared at Gwen and Lance.
"You're Lancelot!" she squealed, her bright green eyes filling with glee. "My boyfriend is so not going to believe this. Can you sign my converses?"
"Right after he signs my Steve Maddens-"
"Guys!" Gwen shouted. "He's not on duty right now. I don't think he wants to-"
To her surprise, he pulled a sharpie out of his pocket and flashed a smile at the two girls.
Morgana ran over in her 5-inch stilettos, grinning like a madwoman. Lance knelt down and signed his loopy signature up the side. He turned and did the same for Isuelt's bright blue sneakers.
"Why do I get the feeling that you're loving this," Gwen whispered to him as he stood. "What happened to you being a simple guy?"
"I never deny my fans," he said, shrugging simply.
Gwen rolled her eyes at him as he flipped the sharpie and caught it in his jeans pocket.
She couldn't help but giggle at Morgana and Isuelt who were holding each other by the upper arm, comparing signatures, and hopping around in excitement.
"Hey," Lance said, smoothing her hair out of her face. "You know I'd write my signature all over you if you'd let me," he whispered, grinning devilishly.
"I should be offended by your misogyny," she said, looking up at him. "But all I can do is shake my head at your cheesiness."
"That was my objective all along," he said.
He kissed her on the forehead she sighed as she melted in his chest.
A few seconds later, she remembered she had an audience and she pulled away from the embrace feeling extremely embarrassed.
She scanned their faces for their reactions. Merlin looked amused as always. Mordred was… gleeful. That was no surprise. Morgana and Isuelt looked like two girls who had just seen a Nicholas Sparks movie. Typical.
Arthur looked like he'd just been slapped in the face.
"You're dating… Lancelot?" he asked her. "When you met him in the office… you said…"
"His name is Lance," she said. "He likes to separate himself from his stage persona."
Arthur looked at the two dazed girls and back to her, crossing his arms.
"I'll believe that when I see it," he said, scowling. "Guinevere, how could you do something so incredibly stupid? You can't trust this guy. He's using you! He only dates models and actresses to keep up his image! You're just a nanny. I know for a fact he'd never date someone like you!"
It was as if someone had knocked the wind completely out of her. She looked at him, the pain fresh in her eyes and the tears close behind.
"Arthur, you idiot," Merlin whispered, pressing a hand to his forehead.
Arthur seemed to see his mistake and his look of anger was replaced by a look of pure guilt.
"I didn't mean it like that-"
She stalked past him to stand next to Morgana and Isuelt, holding back her tears and glaring at him.
"I know what you meant," she hissed.
"So," said Morgana, stepping forward awkwardly. "I'm assuming it's boys against girls then?"
"That seems best at this point," said Isuelt, eying Gwen and Arthur warily. "I'm Isuelt by the way. I didn't get to introduce myself over the crackling UST."
She gave Morgana a high five despite the glares Gwen was sending her.
"I'm Morgana," Morgana said. "The brooding blond is my idiot brother Arthur, the freakishly tall one is my good friend Merlin, and the little boy is my nephew, Mordred."
Isuelt nodded. "Nice to meet you all," she said.
They all nodded politely.
"Wait," Arthur said slowly, "that means I have to work with him."
He pointed at Lancelot like he was something vile.
"How old are you? Four?" Lancelot said crossing his arms. "We're grown men, not children on a playground."
"Those are wise words from the man who threw a tantrum when his sorbet wasn't cold enough," Arthur retorted. "I don't believe your act for a second. You're up to something."
"It's either that or you forfeit, which is also fine with me," said Morgana, looking at her nails with a bored expression.
"No chance in hell," Arthur said.
"Then let's go so we can kick your ass already," she said, pumping her fist in the air.
She turned to the other two, "Come on girls," she said, grinning, "let's get suited up."
With one last angry glance at Arthur, Gwen looped her arms with the other two girls and walked briskly towards the building.
She never thought she'd ever think it, but she the sooner she got a gun in her hand, the better.
Arthur had better watch his back.
Part 2
Spoilers: None, really. Maybe some throwbacks to the show in later chapters. There's also pop culture galore, but I never really spoil anything.
Rating: PG-13/ T
Words: 68, 007 (Total)
Pairings: Arthur/Gwen, Lancelot/Gwen, Merlin/Freya, Morgana/Leon (still on the fence about Merlin/Morgana)
Genre: AU/Romance/Humor/Mystery/Drama [FF.net only allows two genres...]
Summary: By happenstance, Gwen comes across a job opportunity: be a nanny for Arthur Pendragon's son. It would have been great, if the child wasn't evil incarnate and if she wasn't slowly falling for her boss, who she thinks would never go for a basket case like her.
A/N: The previous chapters can also be found at my ff.net profile : www.fanfiction.net/~mikihime.
Dog Days Are Over
Gwen sat up in bed, having just woken up from a wonderful dream. She smiled as she stretched, her mind replaying the images from the night before. She, Guinevere Leodegrance, had sung a duet with the Prince of Pop. Who was her boyfriend.
She wasn't a very materialistic girl and didn't have many valuable possessions. That being said, she did appreciate the finer things in life and understood that being privy to Lance's attentions made her a lucky girl indeed.
As she stepped off the bed, her foot touched something warm and plushy. Eyes widening, she crawled back on her bed and screamed.
The thing on the ground rose suddenly, the white blanket obscuring its form completely. Thinking quickly, she grabbed her pillow and swung it back and forth at the thing standing over her.
"Hey! Ouch! Guinevere, it's me!"
The blanket slipped off to reveal a very tousled, looking Arthur Pendragon. And, by God, he was pouting.
"What're you doing here?" she asked, focusing on his eyes and nowhere else.
"You were screaming last night in your sleep," he told her, rubbing the side of his head. "It took me a while to calm you down. I stayed because I wanted to be here if it happened again."
"So you slept on the floor?" she asked, astounded.
"That's me," he said, sighing dramatically, "valiant to a fault. Your knight and shining armor. The Richard Gere to your Julia Roberts."
She hit him lightly with her pillow.
"Hey!" he said, grabbing it and pulling it away from her. "What was that for?"
"For implying that I'm a hooker," she said looking him up and down skeptically, "and for implying that you're anywhere near as handsome as Richard Gere used to be."
"For one thing, I was referring to Runaway Bride, not Pretty Woman," he said, "and for another I am at least on par wit him. Just look at these cheekbones! And let me tell you, I've got quite the smolder."
He demonstrated and Gwen placed her hand over her mouth to contain her laughter. He looked like he'd tasted something sour.
"The only thing you'll succeed in with that face," she said, raising an eyebrow, "is scaring away small children."
She felt a rush of air and the soft impact of the pillow hitting her temple.
"Never insult the smolder," he warned, sending her a mock glare. "I've spent years perfecting it."
She looked at him doubtfully.
"Maybe you should call Richard Gere so he can show you how it's done," she teased.
He swung the pillow at her, but she anticipated his movements and quickly rolled onto her bed, grabbing a pillow and rising to face him on the other side.
"Are you challenging the pillow fighting Champion?" she asked, holding the pillow like some kind of weapon.
"Self-proclaimed?"
"Ask Susie McIntyre and I think you'll change your mind about that," she said proudly.
"I think-"
He didn't really have time to think. Gwen threw one of her throw pillows at him and, while he was distracted, she lunged, giggling as she pummeled him with her pillow.
He pulled his pillow over his head and started hitting her lightly on the head.
"No fair!" she squealed, sounding very much like a two-year-old. "You're taller than me. That's against the rules, you big cheater!"
"I'm guessing these rules come from the arbitrary rule book of Guinevere Leodegrance?" he asked, laughing. "I can't help it if you're a munchkin."
She started hitting him much harder after that and the only thing he could do was block her swift movements with his pillow.
"I. AM. AVERAGE. HEIGHT!" she said through gritted teeth.
"Alright, Alright!" he said holding his hands up and backing away. "You're tall. You're a giant! Just stop hitting-"
His foot slipped on the blanket and he began falling backwards onto the bed. In his panic, his arm grabbed hers and she fell right onto the bed with him and collided right onto his chest.
"Ompf!"
A curtain of hair fell over one side of his face and, suddenly, his eyes were full of Guinevere.
"No one actually says 'Ompf' when they fall," he said, his voice sounding a little huskier than he intended. "You've been watching too many cartoons."
"This is the second time I've fallen on you," she said, looking down on him. "I think this bed is cursed."
Care to try it out? Arthur thought.
He watched her eyes scan his face and she looked appreciative. It made it even harder to resist the urge to close the gap between them. If she lay on top of him for any longer, he didn't think he could stop himself.
"Say it," he ordered, glaring at her a little.
"Alright, fine," she said, rolling off of him to lay by his, "you do have excellent cheekbones."
"And I'm quite handsome," he added, "the most handsome man you've ever-"
"Don't push your luck," she said, narrowing her eyes. "Honestly, I don't know how your wife ever-"
She promptly shut her mouth when she saw the smile melt off his face quicker than butter in a skillet. She mentally berated herself for her uncouth comment. It wasn't proper for her to say something like that without knowing who Mrs. Pendragon was or what she was like.
"What do you know of my wife?" he asked, after a long silence.
"Mordred told me his mother sends him things," she said truthfully, "which means she's still alive, of course. I noticed there are no pictures of her around the house, which I thought was a bit odd-"
"You talked to my son about his mother?" he asked in a voice she'd never heard before.
"I'm sorry," she said softly avoiding his eyes. "I didn't mean… I shouldn't have… I was only trying to…"
She trailed off when she saw the look of anger on Arthur's face. It sent a white-hot bolt of electricity down her spine and she couldn't look at him too long. He'd never looked that angry with her.
"It pains me to say this, but speak of her again and I might just have to fire you," he said, looking as serious as she'd ever seen him. "I never want to hear that you've asked my son about her or that you've been snooping around. It's not your job. And it's not your place. You're my son's nanny. Just do me a favor and do your damn job."
Not her place. The words repeated in her head in a relentless cycle and it hurt like hell to hear something like that come from his mouth. What he'd really meant was: I don't trust you enough to tell you.
"Alright," she said, feeling her shoulders sag at the weight of his heated glare, "I won't ask. I won't pry. I promise. I know my place."
She searched his eyes for something else, but all they reflected was anger and, oddly, fear.
The anger dissipated and was replaced with a look of shame.
He reached out to touch her arm, but she recoiled in response.
"I've… upset you," he said, desperately trying to reach her eyes. "Guinevere, I-"
"If you don't mind, Mr. Pendragon," she said in a painfully polite tone, "I'd like to go take a shower."
"O-of course," he said, standing up quickly. "I'll just take me leave then."
He tried to meet her gaze but she was doing her best to avoid his eyes.
He turned around, cursing himself every step of the way. He fucked up. He'd made an ass of himself and it wasn't even noon yet.
The door closed softly behind him and Gwen stared at it for a moment feeling so angry she thought she would explode.
She pulled out her computer and opened iTunes. It was time for the anger trifecta: Aretha Franklin, Fiona Apple, and Alanis Moorisette.
"Oh my god," Merlin moaned covering his ears. "Make it stop!"
Merlin, Morgana, and Arthur were sitting around the kitchen table listening to Gwen's rendition of RESPECT. She normally had a lovely voice, but she was anger singing, which was hardly ever pleasing to the ears.
"Why are girls so weird, Daddy?" Mordred asked, looking terrified. "Why is she making those awful sounds?"
"What the hell did you do, Arthur?" asked Morgana, rounding on him.
"Why is it always my fault?" he asked. "How do you know it wasn't her-
Merlin, Morgana, and even Mordred looked at him incredulously.
"Fine," he said, sighing, "it was my fault. I said some things I shouldn't have."
"So you should be the one to go up there and apologize," said Merlin, placing his hands on Arthur's back and leading him to the staircase.
"Touch me again and I'll kill you," he hissed at his friend, who just rolled his eyes and returned to his seat.
"You guys are such wimps!" Morgana said in exasperation. "I'll go talk to her."
"God, I love you," Merlin said, standing up and hugging her tightly. "You're a Christian Martyr."
"You're quoting a Tennessee Williams play," she said. "It must be bad. You hate his work."
"I'm dying, Egypt, dying," he mumbled into her shoulder.
"Get him some water and a MARVEL comic quickly," she said, handing him over to Arthur, "He's quoting Shakespeare."
"I'm on it," he said, helping Merlin to his chair.
Morgana rushed up the stairs, covering her ears, as she got closer to the room.
"-R-E-S-P-E-C-T, FIND OUT WHAT IT MEANS TO ME!"
Morgana knocked on her door as hard as she could.
"GWEN! FOR GOD'S SAKE, SHUT UP!"
She stopped singing and after a few moments, Morgana heard the sound of shuffling feet and the twisting of the metal doorknob.
The door opened and Morgana's annoyance disappeared at the sight of her face.
She looked pissed as hell.
"Did Arthur send you up here to tell me to know my place?"
"Whoa," Morgana said, holding her hands up, "don't shoot the messenger. You were slowly murdering us all with your anger fest I had to come up here and stop you."
"Was I that loud?" said Gwen, looking a bit embarrassed.
"They could probably hear you from Jupiter," Morgana said. "Now let me in so we can talk."
Gwen didn't deny her. She just collapsed on her bed, looking sullen.
"Your choice of anger music is interesting," said Morgana, sitting next to her. "Though I would have chosen Lily Allen for a time like this."
"Too much profanity," said Gwen, shaking her head. "Though I considered it."
"You're too adorable for words," said Morgana, pinching Gwen's cheeks, "even when you're 'angry'."
"I wasn't going for that," Gwen mumbled, "but thanks all the same."
"Now tell me what my brother said to you," Morgana said, crossing her legs.
"I happened to mention Mordred's mother in passing," Gwen said slowly, trying to keep her anger at bay, "I told him Mordred had told me about her. Arthur told me I should know my place and reminded me very clearly where my place was."
Morgana stayed silent for a long time before she began speaking carefully.
"You have to know," she said, placing a hand on Gwen's knee, "that Mordred's mother is a… sore subject. It brings too many unwanted memories for Arthur. He doesn't want Mordred asking questions… and for good reason."
"You're being deliberately obtuse," Gwen said, sighing. "That's fine. It's not my business. That's not what's making me so angry-"
"I was getting to that," said Morgana, giving her knee a squeeze. "He should have told you gently. He shouldn't have made assumptions. I can understand why you're angry. He shouldn't have said those things to you. I give you full permission to kick his ass."
"I could never-"
"My God, Gwen," Morgana said in exasperation. "Woman up. Instead of sitting here pouring your heart out in song, you need to tell him that he hurt you, that you're angry, and you want to jump his bones."
Gwen raised an eyebrow.
"Maybe not that last bit," Morgana said. "I'll tell you what. Call up a friend. We're all going out. We're going to find a healthy outlet for your anger."
She got up, fully prepared to leave. Then she whirled around to face her.
"And if you're on my team," she said, threatening. "You need to be hardcore. Kickass. None of this courteous crap. I won't lose."
She closed the door behind her, leaving Gwen to wonder what on Earth she was talking about.
She pulled her phone out of the charger, thought hard, and pulled a piece of paper out of her drawer.
She'd forgotten all about it until now, but she'd promised Tristan she would call at some point.
The phone rang for a few moments before someone picked up.
"Hello?"
Her voice was soft and delicate, like a summer breeze. It was very pleasing to the ear. She didn't know why Tristan seemed so afraid of her when he mentioned her at the coffee shop.
"Hi, Iseult" said Gwen, "This is Guinevere. Your boyfriend, Tristan-"
"Oh my God. No!" she said, starting to hyperventilate. "Is he cheating on me? Are you the whore who's sleeping with him. You have some nerve calling me on my cell phone-"
"No!" said Gwen, surprised the girl's sudden change of tone. "No. He asked me to show you around. One of my friends is taking us out and she said I could bring a friend if I wanted. I don't know you, but I thought you might like to come."
"Oh," she said, her voice going back to normal, "I'm sorry. Sure. I'll come. Just tell me where I should meet you."
"I'll call you later to let you know," Gwen said, smiling. "I'm not even sure where we're going yet."
"Thank you so much for inviting me," Iseult said, sounding delighted. "I can't wait to meet you and your friends."
"See you then."
When she was certain the call was over, she sighed and held the phone in her palm. She thought hard before she dialed the next number. She knew deep inside that she was making the wrong decision in doing so but, as they say, hell hath no fury like a woman scorned.
"You can't be serious," Gwen said to Morgana as Charlie pulled up to their destination. "This is your idea of a family venue?"
The building was rather large and circular, like a new age Coliseum. It was several stories high, with identical windows placed randomly throughout the building.
The sign in front read Extreme Paintball.
"Oh don't be such a killjoy, Gwen," Morgana said, tutting at her. "It's the perfect place to let out all of that rage. After all, the bastard did cheat on you and used you to get to your brother."
Gwen raised an eyebrow at her.
"Why do I get the feeling this is more about you than me?" she asked.
"It's about the both of us. Besides," Morgana said narrowing her eyes, "I've also got a score to settle with my half-witted brother-"
"I'm right here, you know," said Arthur, waving from the other side of the Limo. "I can hear everything you're saying."
He sent a significant glance towards Gwen, who immediately turned away from him. He wasn't going to get off that easily.
"Damn right you should, you cheating little bastard," Morgana seethed.
"You're just bitter because I'm still the reigning champion," Arthur challenged. "All this time and you've still never been able to beat me."
"Because you're a cheater," Morgana retorted.
"That's never been confirmed," said Arthur, rolling his eyes. "You're just a sore loser!"
"AM NOT!"
"YOU SO ARE!"
Gwen sighed as she opened the door and stepped out, ignoring the pleading glances from Mordred and Merlin. She didn't want to deal with their childish arguing today. She usually found it amusing, but today, it was definitely grating on her nerves.
Another limo pulled up a few minutes later, followed by a red Volkswagen Beatle.
The sleek white door opened first, and Gwen felt relieved for the first time since she'd woken up from her dream.
"Lance," she said, smiling, "You managed to get away from work?"
"Don't you know," he said, smiling roguishly, "I always take off on Sundays in case you want to go out."
She gave him a skeptical look as she noticed he was still wearing black sparkly eyeliner.
He followed her gaze and rubbed frantically at his eyes. When he was finished he looked a little embarrassed.
"Alright, you got me," he said, sighing heavily. "I kind of… escaped from a rehearsal."
"Now why would you do something like that?"
"You sent me the address for this place," he said, gesturing to the massive building. "I used to go here several times when I was younger. Nostalgia, you know," he said, looking her up and down appreciatively. "Besides, when will I get another opportunity to see you in such sexy gear?"
Gwen blushed.
"Are you Gwen?" asked a voice from behind Lancelot.
Gwen craned her neck, looking for the source of the voice.
A rather pale blond woman was running up to her, waving enthusiastically.
"You must be Isuelt," Gwen said, returning the smile. "I'm sorry. I didn't know Morgana would be bringing us-"
"PAINTBALL?" Isuelt squealed, clapping as she jumped up in down in her excitement. "OMG. Tristan hasn't taken me since I beat him miserably the last time! YES!"
She launched her self on Gwen and hugged her tightly. Gwen patted her awkwardly on the back, glaring at Lance who was laughing raucously.
"Wait," Isuelt said, releasing Gwen at last and eying Lancelot curiously. "You look really familiar…"
"He's my boyfriend," Gwen said, side stepping her to stand next to Lance. "Lance, Isuelt. Isuelt, Lance."
"Pleasure to meet you," said Isuelt, who looked mollified for the moment.
"Likewise," said Lance, bowing his head to her slightly. "Any friend of Gwen's is a friend of mine."
The door to the black stretch limo opened and Merlin emerged, dragging Arthur along with him.
"You just not woman enough to admit that I BEAT YOU!" he yelled back to the open door.
"And what kind of self-respecting man reads ROMANCE NOVELS?" said a voice Gwen recognized as Morgana's.
Mordred dragged her out of the car with his little hands and she emerged from the dark expanse of the car looking livid.
"I just want to know how the female mind works," he explained. "It's a closest thing to a handbook us men will ever get-"
He stopped talking when he caught sight of Lance, who was standing rather closely to Gwen and raising an eyebrow at him in pure amusement.
"And what the HELL are you doing here?" Arthur seethed. "I sure didn't invite you."
Gwen felt Lancelot's arm snake around her waist, pulling her in closer to his side. This was it. It was now or never.
"Of course you didn't," Lance said, looking down at Gwen who was struggling to smile. "Gwen did."
Morgana's eyes widened and her mouth was opening and closing like a gaping fish. She raised an arm to point at Lance as she struggled to find her words. Gwen groaned. She could tell by the slightly manic look in her eye that Morgana… was a fangirl.
"IT'S YOU!" she screamed. "Oh. My. God. I've seen so many of your concerts. I'm a HUGE fan of your music."
Merlin placed a calming hand on her shoulder. "Morgana. Calm down. It's going to be alright."
"Daddy," Mordred said, tugging at his father's suit sleeve. "Why does Auntie Morgana look crazy?"
"Because all girls are crazy," Arthur said through gritted teeth. "Remember that always, son."
Isuelt seemed to be catching on and her eyes widened as she stared at Gwen and Lance.
"You're Lancelot!" she squealed, her bright green eyes filling with glee. "My boyfriend is so not going to believe this. Can you sign my converses?"
"Right after he signs my Steve Maddens-"
"Guys!" Gwen shouted. "He's not on duty right now. I don't think he wants to-"
To her surprise, he pulled a sharpie out of his pocket and flashed a smile at the two girls.
Morgana ran over in her 5-inch stilettos, grinning like a madwoman. Lance knelt down and signed his loopy signature up the side. He turned and did the same for Isuelt's bright blue sneakers.
"Why do I get the feeling that you're loving this," Gwen whispered to him as he stood. "What happened to you being a simple guy?"
"I never deny my fans," he said, shrugging simply.
Gwen rolled her eyes at him as he flipped the sharpie and caught it in his jeans pocket.
She couldn't help but giggle at Morgana and Isuelt who were holding each other by the upper arm, comparing signatures, and hopping around in excitement.
"Hey," Lance said, smoothing her hair out of her face. "You know I'd write my signature all over you if you'd let me," he whispered, grinning devilishly.
"I should be offended by your misogyny," she said, looking up at him. "But all I can do is shake my head at your cheesiness."
"That was my objective all along," he said.
He kissed her on the forehead she sighed as she melted in his chest.
A few seconds later, she remembered she had an audience and she pulled away from the embrace feeling extremely embarrassed.
She scanned their faces for their reactions. Merlin looked amused as always. Mordred was… gleeful. That was no surprise. Morgana and Isuelt looked like two girls who had just seen a Nicholas Sparks movie. Typical.
Arthur looked like he'd just been slapped in the face.
"You're dating… Lancelot?" he asked her. "When you met him in the office… you said…"
"His name is Lance," she said. "He likes to separate himself from his stage persona."
Arthur looked at the two dazed girls and back to her, crossing his arms.
"I'll believe that when I see it," he said, scowling. "Guinevere, how could you do something so incredibly stupid? You can't trust this guy. He's using you! He only dates models and actresses to keep up his image! You're just a nanny. I know for a fact he'd never date someone like you!"
It was as if someone had knocked the wind completely out of her. She looked at him, the pain fresh in her eyes and the tears close behind.
"Arthur, you idiot," Merlin whispered, pressing a hand to his forehead.
Arthur seemed to see his mistake and his look of anger was replaced by a look of pure guilt.
"I didn't mean it like that-"
She stalked past him to stand next to Morgana and Isuelt, holding back her tears and glaring at him.
"I know what you meant," she hissed.
"So," said Morgana, stepping forward awkwardly. "I'm assuming it's boys against girls then?"
"That seems best at this point," said Isuelt, eying Gwen and Arthur warily. "I'm Isuelt by the way. I didn't get to introduce myself over the crackling UST."
She gave Morgana a high five despite the glares Gwen was sending her.
"I'm Morgana," Morgana said. "The brooding blond is my idiot brother Arthur, the freakishly tall one is my good friend Merlin, and the little boy is my nephew, Mordred."
Isuelt nodded. "Nice to meet you all," she said.
They all nodded politely.
"Wait," Arthur said slowly, "that means I have to work with him."
He pointed at Lancelot like he was something vile.
"How old are you? Four?" Lancelot said crossing his arms. "We're grown men, not children on a playground."
"Those are wise words from the man who threw a tantrum when his sorbet wasn't cold enough," Arthur retorted. "I don't believe your act for a second. You're up to something."
"It's either that or you forfeit, which is also fine with me," said Morgana, looking at her nails with a bored expression.
"No chance in hell," Arthur said.
"Then let's go so we can kick your ass already," she said, pumping her fist in the air.
She turned to the other two, "Come on girls," she said, grinning, "let's get suited up."
With one last angry glance at Arthur, Gwen looped her arms with the other two girls and walked briskly towards the building.
She never thought she'd ever think it, but she the sooner she got a gun in her hand, the better.
Arthur had better watch his back.
Part 2