Part 58: link
“Don’t touch anything,” Morgana says, noticing Paul and Wayne starting to investigate their surroundings. Leon has made himself comfortable in one of the chairs, and is spinning lazily in circles.
Wayne plops down at the manicure table next to Morgana’s, a bottle of navy blue polish in his hand. He sets his bottle on the table and starts casually painting his nails. Morgana glances at him, exhales with a chuckle, and turns her attention back to Arthur.
Paul is still wandering, poking his nose into cabinets and drawers.
“Paul, darling, what are you looking for?” Morgana asks, not looking up.
“Cups.”
“I get them,” Irene says. “Soak,” she tells Merlin before standing. He puts his fingers in a bowl of warm water.
She returns with a stack of pink plastic cups and hands them to Paul. He distributes them, and pops the cork on another bottle of champagne as effortlessly as if he were popping the head off a dandelion.
Irene is impressed. “Strong man,” she says to Merlin.
“I know, he’s huge,” Merlin laughs.
“Quiet,” she observes.
“That he is. He gets a little more chatty once he’s had a few.”
“Chatty?”
“He talks more when he’s drunk.”
“Okay.”
Paul pours champagne, ladies first. He ignores Wayne as he has his own bottle. “For the groom,” he says, filling Arthur’s cup full. “And a drop for driver number one.” He pours a little in Merlin’s cup, then fills Elliot’s and his own full before crossing to Leon and giving him a small amount as well.
“Leon, you got roped into driving?” Arthur asks him.
“I’m on child duty tomorrow, since I’m off and Thea has plans. So I volunteered. You do not want to deal with a six-year-old boy if you have a hangover,” he laughs.
“How is Alec?”
“Good. He’s learning cricket.”
“Really? At six?”
“It was either that or American Football,” Leon rolls his eyes.
“Unusual range of interests.”
“Boring,” Wayne chimes from his table, inspecting his nails. “Are you taking the Crumpet out for a hen party, Morgs?”
“Of sorts,” Morgana says, filing Arthur’s nails. “Gwen doesn’t drink, you know, so a night out on a boozer isn’t really her style. So we’re having a spa day tomorrow, followed by lunch.”
Wayne yawns dramatically and Morgana stabs his arm lightly with her file. “Ow!”
“Who all is going?” Arthur asks. He knew about it, but hadn’t heard the guest list.
“Well, Gwen and me, obviously,” Morgana says, “And Freya,” she glances at Merlin. “Also Autumn and Thea.”
“Who’s Autumn?” Wayne asks, suddenly interested again.
“A friend of Gwen’s from the library.”
He furrows his brow. “I don’t remember any Autumn. Was she at the engagement party?”
“No, she was in America visiting her family, so she didn’t make it.”
“She’s American?”
“Obviously,” she glances sideways at him. “And don’t go getting any ideas. She’s a nice girl.”
“I can vouch for that,” Elliot mutters from the other end of the row.
“What was that?” Arthur asks, interested.
“I took her out once. She didn’t like me. She said I was a ‘player,’ and that she didn’t want to deal with me or my baggage.”
“What the hell is a player?” Merlin asks.
“Is someone who plays with woman like toy,” Irene casually explains. They all stare at her.
“Oh. Well that certainly clears it up,” Wayne says, laughing.
“So are you?” Elizabeth asks, angling her head at Elliot.
“What?”
“A player?”
He clears his throat and takes a drink of champagne to buy some time, clearly interested in Elizabeth and not wanting to say the wrong thing.
“I guess I have been in the past.”
“Good answer,” Wayne laughs. “Are you a rugger or a politician?”
“Did you call my sister a crumpet before?” Elliot asks Wayne as they walk into Excalibur.
“Yeah, I shortened it. It was originally ‘Little Brown Crumpet.’”
Elliot looks like he is about to get offended, so Arthur intercepts him. “He means it affectionately, Elliot, settle down.”
“And your dear sister isn’t as innocent as you think, mate,” Wayne grins. Now it is Arthur’s turn to take offense.
“Excuse me?” he turns on Wayne.
“Whoa, whoa, back up there, Chief. I was simply referring to that little bite mark I spotted on your shoulder last month,” he says, poking him in the shoulder.
“Ah, oh, um. That.” Arthur’s scowl turns into an embarrassed grin as they find a table.
“Bite mark?” Elliot says, incredulous. “I don’t think I want to hear about this.” He walks to the bar to order drinks for the table.
The six men sit around a large round table as Elliot returns with four pints clutched in his hands.
“Brilliant, the bride’s brother got the first round!” Wayne declares, taking his glass.
He reaches into his pockets and produces bottled waters for Leon and Merlin. “I didn’t forget you blokes,” he says as he hands them their bottles.
Three young ladies approach the table. They are probably just twenty-one, and they are slightly tipsy already.
“Would any of you like to dance?” one asks, clearly looking at Arthur, who is oblivious, talking in Merlin’s ear.
Wayne elects himself spokesman for the table. He stands and drapes his arm around her shoulders. “Well, love, let’s see. I’ll tell you who’s available for female attention and then you can make your choice. How’ll that do?” He points to each man in turn, starting with Merlin. “Taken.” Leon: “Married.” Paul: “Available,” then he whispers loudly, “but he’s shy,” and winks. Elliot: “Available, and apparently a player, according to some American bird he took out once.” He then points at himself, and hesitates. The guys are watching now, curious as to what he’ll say, as none of them are sure what his relationship with Morgana is.
He sighs. “Taken, but always willing to dance.” Several sets of eyebrows rise at the table. “And he,” Wayne points dramatically to Arthur, “is getting married Saturday. So unless we get him thoroughly pissed, I don’t think he’ll be dancing.”
The second girl gasps. “Is this your bachelor party?” she asks Arthur. He nods, smiling.
“Oh my God, your fiancée is so lucky,” she gushes, and wobbles a bit. “Did you hire a stripper for him?” she asks Wayne.
“Um, don’t think so…” he says, giving the girl a puzzled look.
“Would you like one? Ow!” she says the first girl pinches her.
“Sorry, she’s a lightweight,” she says, steadying her friend before approaching Elliot, holding her hand out to him. He grins and stands, then pulls Paul and Wayne with him, and the six of them head to the dance floor.
The lads head to another club, but on the way they decide that they want some food. The first place they see is a Burger King restaurant, so they pull in and head inside for burgers.
They’re not too far gone yet, so they only cause a minor ruckus. Mostly they are laughing a lot and getting a lot of strange and annoyed looks. They eat quickly and messily in the way that men do when not supervised by their women, and head out the door.
On the way out, Wayne grabs a paper crown intended for children and places it on Arthur’s head. Arthur adjusts it, placing it at a rakish angle, and walks proudly to Merlin’s car, staggering just slightly.
They find another table at the second club. Wayne knows the bartender at this place so they are drinking almost for free. Arthur doesn’t want to get too blasted, but he is definitely feeling the effects of the alcohol.
“You guys know I love you, right?” Arthur announces to the table, his words slightly slurred. “’Cause I do. Each of you. You,” he points to Leon, “I love. ’Cause you have the life, don’t you? Beautiful wife, beautiful son, a prrrromotion to chief. You’ve got everything a man could… want? Want, yes.” He nods, and Leon chuckles, raising his water bottle in a toast to Arthur.
“You’ll have it, too, mate, trust me,” Leon says. Arthur grins.
“And Elliot. I don’t know you that good yet, but I still love you. You’re going to be my brother.” He laughs suddenly. “My brother the brother,” he says, and Elliot laughs at this as well. “Your sister,” he continues, “Is the best person in the whole world.”
Elliot looks at Arthur. “She is. She’s bossy and picky and too smart and she’s always right, but she is really the… coolest girl ever. Ssshe deserves someone… brilliant… like you. I love you, too, Art. I always wanted a brrrotherrr.” Elliot, though a professional drinker, is also feeling his indulgence.
“Paul, you big giant… person,” Arthur continues. “You lovable brick wall, you. Bloody hell, you’re huge, do you know that? And I love that about you, mate. I love that you know how to… not… talk. I love that you secretly love puppies and musical theatre. Oh, sorry…”
Paul laughs, a hearty, drunken laugh, “I think they all know anyway.”
“I didn’t…” Elliot speaks up.
“You do now, mate,” Paul says, raising his glass and clinking it with Elliot’s, and they both drink.
“And you,” Arthur continues, turning on Wayne. “You are a… pervert. But I still love you. You’re… honest. Too much so, sometimesss… you say things that most people only… think. And you get away with it, mate, which is brilliant.” He starts laughing now, apparently remembering something amusing Wayne must have done in the past.
“You are a sloppy, affectionate… cabbage head… who can’t hold his drink, Arthur, but I love you, too, mate,” Wayne says. He leans over and plants a big kiss on Arthur’s cheek and they both collapse into each other, laughing like idiots.
“Wait, wait! I haven’t done Merlin yet!” Arthur straightens up, trying to regain some sort of composure. “I wasss…sssaving him for last…” He takes another swig of his drink.
“Mmmmerlin…” Arthur turns to his best friend, swinging his arm around his shoulders and leaning his head on him.
“Arthur,” Merlin replies nonchalantly.
“I love you.”
“Yes, I know. I love you, too, mate.” He reaches up and pats Arthur’s cheek.
“No, really, You are such a cool guy. And, like, no one knows it. Which makes you cooler. You know evvvverything. And you… put up with me. So I love you.”
“Well, in a day and a half you’ll be Gwen’s full-time problem,” Merlin says, and they all laugh.
“Guinevere…” Arthur says, eyes turning dreamy. “I love her, too.” He rests his forearms on the table and sets his chin down on the backs of his folded hands. “She’s amazing.”
Merlin keeps a careful eye on his friend, ready to step in and intercept him should he start to share a little too much about his relationship with Gwen. Her brother is present, after all.
“And have you blokes seen how cute she is? Really, she’s adorable, isn’t she? She even has cute… toes…” he trails off, eyes closing for a moment.
Leon looks at his watch. Shortly after one a.m. “I think he’s done, lads.”
Merlin agrees. “Yes, let’s take him home.”
Twenty minutes later, Merlin, Leon and Wayne escort Arthur into his flat. Paul and Elliot’s places were on the way, so they were taken home already.
“Shh!” Merlin says as Wayne trips over a pair of Arthur’s shoes on the mat next to the door. “We don’t want to wake Gwen.”
“Isn’t that kind of unavoid… unav… won’t that be hard?” Wayne asks. “We gotta get his drunk ass into bed.”
“I think he’ll be using the couch tonight,” Leon says, pointing with his free hand at a pillow and some blankets piled neatly on a sofa cushion. “Looks like she left us a hint.”
“Let’s put him down,” Merlin says. Merlin and Leon are supporting Arthur on either side. He looks a bit like a marionette, suspended between the two taller men.
They drop him on the couch, and Leon quickly grabs the pillow and tucks it under Arthur’s head as he starts leaning over to lie down. Merlin pulls his shoes off, and when he looks up he sees a very amused-looking Gwen standing just at the edge of the living room, where the hallway begins. He smiles at her and she puts her finger to her lips, indicating that she doesn’t want to be discovered at this time.
“All right Arthur, sleepy time,” Merlin says, pulling the blanket over Arthur.
“Guinevere,” Arthur mutters, reaching his hand out, groping for her.
“She’s sleeping in the bedroom, Arthur,” Merlin lies.
Arthur sits up and blearily demands, “Well, take me back there! I want to be with her!”
“You’re in no state, Arthur. Lie back down, mate, you’ll see her in the morning,” Merlin presses Arthur back down, gently but very firmly.
“I just want to hold her,” Arthur whines, eyes closing again. “To… smell her… hair…” he drifts off.
Gwen smiles. Poor drunk lovesick fool, she thinks, chuckling to herself, touched that she is still first in his thoughts, even in this semi-conscious and inebriated state. He’s going to be hurting tomorrow, she thinks.
Merlin waves at her. “He’s out cold now.”
“So I see,” Gwen says, stepping into the room. “Hello, Leon, thanks for helping take care of him.”
“Any time, Gwen,” he says, bending down as she leans up to kiss his cheek.
“What about me?” Wayne asks. “Don’t I get any thanks?”
“Thank you, Wayne, for getting my fiancé so thoroughly drunk,” she says, but she knows better than to favor him with a kiss on the cheek.
“Anytime, Crumpet.” He bows to her, but stumbles when he bends forward. Leon catches him. “I like your pajamas,” Wayne recovers enough to leer suggestively at her.
“Um, thanks,” Gwen says. It’s now too chilly at night for her to sleep in one of Arthur’s shirts. She is wearing soft cotton pants covered with small versions of her brother’s rugby logo on them and a black t-shirt. Nothing suggestive about these, yet he compliments me like I’m wearing a negligee. She looks at Merlin, and he rolls his eyes.
“What’s that about?” she points to the Burger King crown, discarded on the table.
“Arthur was the King of Burgers tonight,” Wayne declares. Gwen looks sideways at Merlin. He shakes his head and casts his eyes to the ceiling.
“Ah. Glad I asked.” She turns to Merlin. “You could have brought him back, you know.”
“I think it’s safer for him to be out here. At least for a while. I don’t think he’s going to vomit or anything, but he tends to get… talkative. And emotional. So it was better if he thinks you’re already asleep because otherwise he’d be up telling you how much he loves you for the next two hours.”
Gwen laughs. “Is that so?”
“He told all of us,” Leon says. “We each got to hear why he loved us. It was very touching.” He pretends to wipe a tear from his eye.
She laughs again, and says, “Go home, lads. I’ll be fine. If he finds his way back to the bed, I’ll deal with him. Don’t forget: I used to live with Morgana.”
“Oh, that’s right. She’ll be fine, guys,” Merlin laughs quietly. “See you tomorrow, Gwen.”
She leans up and kisses his cheek. “Go home and get some sleep. And your hair looks good, Merlin.”
“Hey, thanks. Oh, and check it out,” he holds his hands out for her inspection. “Manicures, too.”
Gwen grins and looks. “Very nice. Irene did a good job.” She sees Merlin’s look, and continues. “Well, obviously Morgana called me after you left.”
“’Bye, Gwen,” he says, and the three men leave. Gwen locks the door behind them. Then she turns and looks at Arthur and sighs.
“Silly,” she mutters. She walks past, bends to kiss Arthur on the forehead, and goes back to bed.
Two hours later, she is awakened by Arthur’s weight on the mattress. He turns on his side and pulls her toward him, holding her.
“I woke up and found myself on the couch, alone,” he whispers into her hair, as her back is to him.
“That’s where they put you,” she mutters back, eyes closed. Is he still dressed? She reaches back to touch him. Ah. Underwear. She hated the thought of him sleeping in his clothes, as that is neither comfortable nor restful.
“I had to pee, so I got up and decided to join you back here. After I peed.” He nuzzles her neck, squeezing her tight.
“Go back to sleep, love.” He’s not sober yet.
“Okay.”
Part 60: link
“Don’t touch anything,” Morgana says, noticing Paul and Wayne starting to investigate their surroundings. Leon has made himself comfortable in one of the chairs, and is spinning lazily in circles.
Wayne plops down at the manicure table next to Morgana’s, a bottle of navy blue polish in his hand. He sets his bottle on the table and starts casually painting his nails. Morgana glances at him, exhales with a chuckle, and turns her attention back to Arthur.
Paul is still wandering, poking his nose into cabinets and drawers.
“Paul, darling, what are you looking for?” Morgana asks, not looking up.
“Cups.”
“I get them,” Irene says. “Soak,” she tells Merlin before standing. He puts his fingers in a bowl of warm water.
She returns with a stack of pink plastic cups and hands them to Paul. He distributes them, and pops the cork on another bottle of champagne as effortlessly as if he were popping the head off a dandelion.
Irene is impressed. “Strong man,” she says to Merlin.
“I know, he’s huge,” Merlin laughs.
“Quiet,” she observes.
“That he is. He gets a little more chatty once he’s had a few.”
“Chatty?”
“He talks more when he’s drunk.”
“Okay.”
Paul pours champagne, ladies first. He ignores Wayne as he has his own bottle. “For the groom,” he says, filling Arthur’s cup full. “And a drop for driver number one.” He pours a little in Merlin’s cup, then fills Elliot’s and his own full before crossing to Leon and giving him a small amount as well.
“Leon, you got roped into driving?” Arthur asks him.
“I’m on child duty tomorrow, since I’m off and Thea has plans. So I volunteered. You do not want to deal with a six-year-old boy if you have a hangover,” he laughs.
“How is Alec?”
“Good. He’s learning cricket.”
“Really? At six?”
“It was either that or American Football,” Leon rolls his eyes.
“Unusual range of interests.”
“Boring,” Wayne chimes from his table, inspecting his nails. “Are you taking the Crumpet out for a hen party, Morgs?”
“Of sorts,” Morgana says, filing Arthur’s nails. “Gwen doesn’t drink, you know, so a night out on a boozer isn’t really her style. So we’re having a spa day tomorrow, followed by lunch.”
Wayne yawns dramatically and Morgana stabs his arm lightly with her file. “Ow!”
“Who all is going?” Arthur asks. He knew about it, but hadn’t heard the guest list.
“Well, Gwen and me, obviously,” Morgana says, “And Freya,” she glances at Merlin. “Also Autumn and Thea.”
“Who’s Autumn?” Wayne asks, suddenly interested again.
“A friend of Gwen’s from the library.”
He furrows his brow. “I don’t remember any Autumn. Was she at the engagement party?”
“No, she was in America visiting her family, so she didn’t make it.”
“She’s American?”
“Obviously,” she glances sideways at him. “And don’t go getting any ideas. She’s a nice girl.”
“I can vouch for that,” Elliot mutters from the other end of the row.
“What was that?” Arthur asks, interested.
“I took her out once. She didn’t like me. She said I was a ‘player,’ and that she didn’t want to deal with me or my baggage.”
“What the hell is a player?” Merlin asks.
“Is someone who plays with woman like toy,” Irene casually explains. They all stare at her.
“Oh. Well that certainly clears it up,” Wayne says, laughing.
“So are you?” Elizabeth asks, angling her head at Elliot.
“What?”
“A player?”
He clears his throat and takes a drink of champagne to buy some time, clearly interested in Elizabeth and not wanting to say the wrong thing.
“I guess I have been in the past.”
“Good answer,” Wayne laughs. “Are you a rugger or a politician?”
“Did you call my sister a crumpet before?” Elliot asks Wayne as they walk into Excalibur.
“Yeah, I shortened it. It was originally ‘Little Brown Crumpet.’”
Elliot looks like he is about to get offended, so Arthur intercepts him. “He means it affectionately, Elliot, settle down.”
“And your dear sister isn’t as innocent as you think, mate,” Wayne grins. Now it is Arthur’s turn to take offense.
“Excuse me?” he turns on Wayne.
“Whoa, whoa, back up there, Chief. I was simply referring to that little bite mark I spotted on your shoulder last month,” he says, poking him in the shoulder.
“Ah, oh, um. That.” Arthur’s scowl turns into an embarrassed grin as they find a table.
“Bite mark?” Elliot says, incredulous. “I don’t think I want to hear about this.” He walks to the bar to order drinks for the table.
The six men sit around a large round table as Elliot returns with four pints clutched in his hands.
“Brilliant, the bride’s brother got the first round!” Wayne declares, taking his glass.
He reaches into his pockets and produces bottled waters for Leon and Merlin. “I didn’t forget you blokes,” he says as he hands them their bottles.
Three young ladies approach the table. They are probably just twenty-one, and they are slightly tipsy already.
“Would any of you like to dance?” one asks, clearly looking at Arthur, who is oblivious, talking in Merlin’s ear.
Wayne elects himself spokesman for the table. He stands and drapes his arm around her shoulders. “Well, love, let’s see. I’ll tell you who’s available for female attention and then you can make your choice. How’ll that do?” He points to each man in turn, starting with Merlin. “Taken.” Leon: “Married.” Paul: “Available,” then he whispers loudly, “but he’s shy,” and winks. Elliot: “Available, and apparently a player, according to some American bird he took out once.” He then points at himself, and hesitates. The guys are watching now, curious as to what he’ll say, as none of them are sure what his relationship with Morgana is.
He sighs. “Taken, but always willing to dance.” Several sets of eyebrows rise at the table. “And he,” Wayne points dramatically to Arthur, “is getting married Saturday. So unless we get him thoroughly pissed, I don’t think he’ll be dancing.”
The second girl gasps. “Is this your bachelor party?” she asks Arthur. He nods, smiling.
“Oh my God, your fiancée is so lucky,” she gushes, and wobbles a bit. “Did you hire a stripper for him?” she asks Wayne.
“Um, don’t think so…” he says, giving the girl a puzzled look.
“Would you like one? Ow!” she says the first girl pinches her.
“Sorry, she’s a lightweight,” she says, steadying her friend before approaching Elliot, holding her hand out to him. He grins and stands, then pulls Paul and Wayne with him, and the six of them head to the dance floor.
The lads head to another club, but on the way they decide that they want some food. The first place they see is a Burger King restaurant, so they pull in and head inside for burgers.
They’re not too far gone yet, so they only cause a minor ruckus. Mostly they are laughing a lot and getting a lot of strange and annoyed looks. They eat quickly and messily in the way that men do when not supervised by their women, and head out the door.
On the way out, Wayne grabs a paper crown intended for children and places it on Arthur’s head. Arthur adjusts it, placing it at a rakish angle, and walks proudly to Merlin’s car, staggering just slightly.
They find another table at the second club. Wayne knows the bartender at this place so they are drinking almost for free. Arthur doesn’t want to get too blasted, but he is definitely feeling the effects of the alcohol.
“You guys know I love you, right?” Arthur announces to the table, his words slightly slurred. “’Cause I do. Each of you. You,” he points to Leon, “I love. ’Cause you have the life, don’t you? Beautiful wife, beautiful son, a prrrromotion to chief. You’ve got everything a man could… want? Want, yes.” He nods, and Leon chuckles, raising his water bottle in a toast to Arthur.
“You’ll have it, too, mate, trust me,” Leon says. Arthur grins.
“And Elliot. I don’t know you that good yet, but I still love you. You’re going to be my brother.” He laughs suddenly. “My brother the brother,” he says, and Elliot laughs at this as well. “Your sister,” he continues, “Is the best person in the whole world.”
Elliot looks at Arthur. “She is. She’s bossy and picky and too smart and she’s always right, but she is really the… coolest girl ever. Ssshe deserves someone… brilliant… like you. I love you, too, Art. I always wanted a brrrotherrr.” Elliot, though a professional drinker, is also feeling his indulgence.
“Paul, you big giant… person,” Arthur continues. “You lovable brick wall, you. Bloody hell, you’re huge, do you know that? And I love that about you, mate. I love that you know how to… not… talk. I love that you secretly love puppies and musical theatre. Oh, sorry…”
Paul laughs, a hearty, drunken laugh, “I think they all know anyway.”
“I didn’t…” Elliot speaks up.
“You do now, mate,” Paul says, raising his glass and clinking it with Elliot’s, and they both drink.
“And you,” Arthur continues, turning on Wayne. “You are a… pervert. But I still love you. You’re… honest. Too much so, sometimesss… you say things that most people only… think. And you get away with it, mate, which is brilliant.” He starts laughing now, apparently remembering something amusing Wayne must have done in the past.
“You are a sloppy, affectionate… cabbage head… who can’t hold his drink, Arthur, but I love you, too, mate,” Wayne says. He leans over and plants a big kiss on Arthur’s cheek and they both collapse into each other, laughing like idiots.
“Wait, wait! I haven’t done Merlin yet!” Arthur straightens up, trying to regain some sort of composure. “I wasss…sssaving him for last…” He takes another swig of his drink.
“Mmmmerlin…” Arthur turns to his best friend, swinging his arm around his shoulders and leaning his head on him.
“Arthur,” Merlin replies nonchalantly.
“I love you.”
“Yes, I know. I love you, too, mate.” He reaches up and pats Arthur’s cheek.
“No, really, You are such a cool guy. And, like, no one knows it. Which makes you cooler. You know evvvverything. And you… put up with me. So I love you.”
“Well, in a day and a half you’ll be Gwen’s full-time problem,” Merlin says, and they all laugh.
“Guinevere…” Arthur says, eyes turning dreamy. “I love her, too.” He rests his forearms on the table and sets his chin down on the backs of his folded hands. “She’s amazing.”
Merlin keeps a careful eye on his friend, ready to step in and intercept him should he start to share a little too much about his relationship with Gwen. Her brother is present, after all.
“And have you blokes seen how cute she is? Really, she’s adorable, isn’t she? She even has cute… toes…” he trails off, eyes closing for a moment.
Leon looks at his watch. Shortly after one a.m. “I think he’s done, lads.”
Merlin agrees. “Yes, let’s take him home.”
Twenty minutes later, Merlin, Leon and Wayne escort Arthur into his flat. Paul and Elliot’s places were on the way, so they were taken home already.
“Shh!” Merlin says as Wayne trips over a pair of Arthur’s shoes on the mat next to the door. “We don’t want to wake Gwen.”
“Isn’t that kind of unavoid… unav… won’t that be hard?” Wayne asks. “We gotta get his drunk ass into bed.”
“I think he’ll be using the couch tonight,” Leon says, pointing with his free hand at a pillow and some blankets piled neatly on a sofa cushion. “Looks like she left us a hint.”
“Let’s put him down,” Merlin says. Merlin and Leon are supporting Arthur on either side. He looks a bit like a marionette, suspended between the two taller men.
They drop him on the couch, and Leon quickly grabs the pillow and tucks it under Arthur’s head as he starts leaning over to lie down. Merlin pulls his shoes off, and when he looks up he sees a very amused-looking Gwen standing just at the edge of the living room, where the hallway begins. He smiles at her and she puts her finger to her lips, indicating that she doesn’t want to be discovered at this time.
“All right Arthur, sleepy time,” Merlin says, pulling the blanket over Arthur.
“Guinevere,” Arthur mutters, reaching his hand out, groping for her.
“She’s sleeping in the bedroom, Arthur,” Merlin lies.
Arthur sits up and blearily demands, “Well, take me back there! I want to be with her!”
“You’re in no state, Arthur. Lie back down, mate, you’ll see her in the morning,” Merlin presses Arthur back down, gently but very firmly.
“I just want to hold her,” Arthur whines, eyes closing again. “To… smell her… hair…” he drifts off.
Gwen smiles. Poor drunk lovesick fool, she thinks, chuckling to herself, touched that she is still first in his thoughts, even in this semi-conscious and inebriated state. He’s going to be hurting tomorrow, she thinks.
Merlin waves at her. “He’s out cold now.”
“So I see,” Gwen says, stepping into the room. “Hello, Leon, thanks for helping take care of him.”
“Any time, Gwen,” he says, bending down as she leans up to kiss his cheek.
“What about me?” Wayne asks. “Don’t I get any thanks?”
“Thank you, Wayne, for getting my fiancé so thoroughly drunk,” she says, but she knows better than to favor him with a kiss on the cheek.
“Anytime, Crumpet.” He bows to her, but stumbles when he bends forward. Leon catches him. “I like your pajamas,” Wayne recovers enough to leer suggestively at her.
“Um, thanks,” Gwen says. It’s now too chilly at night for her to sleep in one of Arthur’s shirts. She is wearing soft cotton pants covered with small versions of her brother’s rugby logo on them and a black t-shirt. Nothing suggestive about these, yet he compliments me like I’m wearing a negligee. She looks at Merlin, and he rolls his eyes.
“What’s that about?” she points to the Burger King crown, discarded on the table.
“Arthur was the King of Burgers tonight,” Wayne declares. Gwen looks sideways at Merlin. He shakes his head and casts his eyes to the ceiling.
“Ah. Glad I asked.” She turns to Merlin. “You could have brought him back, you know.”
“I think it’s safer for him to be out here. At least for a while. I don’t think he’s going to vomit or anything, but he tends to get… talkative. And emotional. So it was better if he thinks you’re already asleep because otherwise he’d be up telling you how much he loves you for the next two hours.”
Gwen laughs. “Is that so?”
“He told all of us,” Leon says. “We each got to hear why he loved us. It was very touching.” He pretends to wipe a tear from his eye.
She laughs again, and says, “Go home, lads. I’ll be fine. If he finds his way back to the bed, I’ll deal with him. Don’t forget: I used to live with Morgana.”
“Oh, that’s right. She’ll be fine, guys,” Merlin laughs quietly. “See you tomorrow, Gwen.”
She leans up and kisses his cheek. “Go home and get some sleep. And your hair looks good, Merlin.”
“Hey, thanks. Oh, and check it out,” he holds his hands out for her inspection. “Manicures, too.”
Gwen grins and looks. “Very nice. Irene did a good job.” She sees Merlin’s look, and continues. “Well, obviously Morgana called me after you left.”
“’Bye, Gwen,” he says, and the three men leave. Gwen locks the door behind them. Then she turns and looks at Arthur and sighs.
“Silly,” she mutters. She walks past, bends to kiss Arthur on the forehead, and goes back to bed.
Two hours later, she is awakened by Arthur’s weight on the mattress. He turns on his side and pulls her toward him, holding her.
“I woke up and found myself on the couch, alone,” he whispers into her hair, as her back is to him.
“That’s where they put you,” she mutters back, eyes closed. Is he still dressed? She reaches back to touch him. Ah. Underwear. She hated the thought of him sleeping in his clothes, as that is neither comfortable nor restful.
“I had to pee, so I got up and decided to join you back here. After I peed.” He nuzzles her neck, squeezing her tight.
“Go back to sleep, love.” He’s not sober yet.
“Okay.”
Part 60: link
