A/N:When I thought about how Albion is gonna look i couldn't stop imagining Devonian gardens of Calgary i just recently visited. I had coffee sitting there and it was magical. I didn't describe it quite the same way or anything but if anyone wants to know what I was imagining, just google them :D.
Albion was his coffee shop. He discovered it quite by accident, a couple of weeks after joining Camelot International as a resident. He was coming back from his shift when it started pouring, and craving coffee in the cold he ducked inside the first shop he found. There were plenty of cafe's around the hospital, even Starbucks was pretty close to the place, but despite the fact Albion was quite a walking distance away , and even though most days Arthur drank the horrible coffee of the hospital, not having enough time to go out for anything, and on other days he preferred to send Freya to get him some good coffee from some place nearby... Albion was for bad days. He never sent anyone there; he was weirdly possessive of the place. Anyway, the coffee was half the reason for the magic anyway.
The place was small, but unlike most of the coffee shops, it didn't have dark and dim appearance. It was always brightly illuminated, had huge wall length windows that almost never had blinds closed around the back wall there was a mural of a forest and a part of a lake, and there were many leafy potted plants spread around the shop. The chairs were not those revolving plastic monstrosities that were in fashion everywhere, no, Albion had, what would look like wooden benches-well cushioned though, and very comfortable- the tables were round and the top looked like a piece of old trees, together with the tree age lines and the irregular edges. There was never any weird music playing, but mostly some soundtrack of falling water and birds and winds and stuff... where did someone even find these tracks!
When you entered Albion, it felt like you entered a meadow, some sort of alternate dimension where you couldn't help but feel calm.
Arthur let out a sigh, as he felt the rest of the tension seep out of him as he advanced towards the counter, looking forward to harmlessly flirting with Gwen - he was gay as a rainbow, and Gwen knew that, but she always indulged him and blushed and smiled so pretty! It always made him feel a little wistful because it would be so nice to feel something more for Gwen, to fall in love with her, to be more than just friends. Not that he could even call her his friend. He didn't have many of those, but Gwen was almost as close as it got. She was nice.
Lost in his thoughts he approached the counter. The first thing he registered was ... not Gwen! After the day he had had, he didn't really care much for details.
"You are not Gwen", his tone was rude, and he knew it, but he had a right to be that way when even the one thing he was sure would go right...didn't.
"Yeah! What gave it away?" It was the mischief in the voice that made Arthur pause and actually look.
The boy was tall and lanky, bordering on being malnourished, but that maybe because of the incredibly ill fitting clothes he was wearing. And the muffler... who the hell wore mufflers these days. Before he could get too stuck on appallingly bad clothing sense the kid seems to possess, he raised his eyes and damn.
He was in trouble.
The red lips, smiling, teasing, taunting, were an open challenge to anyone and screamed, yeah! Resist kissing me! I dare you. The cheekbones, Arthur's mind refused to even dwell on because of some innate self preservation instinct, but also because he caught a glimpse of those eyes, and then couldn't move his gaze.
Blue. Brilliant. And twinkling with mirth.
The guy waved his hand in front of his face and that's when he registered he had been staring for...well, quite a while now.
"Excuse me, are you going to order something or keep being amazed by my incredibly good looks?"
"You really are not Gwen." His mind had apparently short circuited and he couldn't process new thoughts.
"Yeah! I really am not. I am sure I would've noticed it sometime in the last 2 dozen years if I was."
"Should've known! She has so much better fashion sense." Arthur composed himself and summoned the haughtiest tones he could manage, "and she brushes her hair."
The smile slipped a little off of his face, and Arthur mentally kicked himself. He really was not having a good day or doing himself any favors today.
"Yeah well, she is a beauty but she isn't here today so I will be serving you. May I know what you will have?" The tone was all business now, and Arthur missed the teasing tone already, even though he had never heard it until just a few minutes ago.
"You may!"
"Thank you Sir. What would it be?" The sir sounded suspiciously like Sire, which Arthur was sure was deliberate.
"A Café mélange", he said, scanning the menu above, and because his stomach was going to complain about missing lunch, "and a lemon tart". He looked at the watch, shit! He was also going to be late. "To go." He added, regretfully.
"Ah, makes sense." Blue Eyes said while turning around to make coffee.
"What's that supposed to mean."
He didn't answer, and instead busied himself in taking out the to-go cup and using a machine that looked too complicated for a simple coffee to Arthur, and he kind of lost the track of time while following the movements of those thin hands and beautiful pale wrists.
"Your name Sir?" The Sir still sounded like Sire, but it wasn't like he could call him out on it.
"Arthur Pendragon"
Arthur could swear he heard a snort, muffled by the scratching of pen.
"What did you mean before... when you said makes sense?"
"Do you know, after working in cafe's for so long, I have realized that the drink almost always resembles the person?"
When Arthur continued to stare blankly, he elaborated.
"Pretty, white and bright exterior, covering a dark and bitter core? Rings any bells?"
The teasing tone was back, and Arthur was too pleased to hear it to even feel insulted. Before he could get over the indignation and reply though, he slipped the drink and a paper bag in front of him.
"That would be $6.50."
"Thank you umm..." (don't call him Blue Eyes, no Gorgeous is not an option either, nor is Darling! Damn it!) "not Gwen?" Arthur said, grabbing the coffee, and taking out his wallet to pay. He was gratified to hear a small chuckle.
"Merlin!" He extended his hand for a handshake, after taking the money, and laughed again at the climbing eyebrows on Arthur's face.
"Let's leave some insults for next time shall we? Now move, there is another customer behind you." Blue Eyes... Merlin, verbally shooed him away from the counter.
Arthur glanced at his watch again, and realized he better hurry or else he would probably have to deal with another visit to his father's office. Stealing one last glance back at Merlin, who was now dealing with an old lady, with a polite - but not teasing, not the one he gave him!- smile on his face, and left the shop. He couldn't help the groan he involuntarily voiced when he took the first sip of the coffee; he always thought nobody could beat Gwen's coffee... apparently he was wrong.
He was almost at the hospital when he glanced at the writing on the cup. Merlin had scribbled his name on it, and normally he wouldn't have looked twice at it but he could grudgingly admit that everything about Merlin suddenly seemed remarkably interesting to him, he actually found himself looking at the handwriting. It was messy, just like his hair, scrawny, the letters too tall, too stretched- very Merlin.
That's when he noticed.
His cup said Arthur Pratdragon.
Arthur could hardly control his sudden burst of laughter, attracting few curious looks from the passersby, any more than he could stop the heady rush of... something... he felt towards that snarky idiot in front of whom he had just made a fool of himself.
He had never felt so good at being insulted before.
If Freya looked at him funny the rest of the day, and Morgana commented on his smile saying "Please don't subject the world to it, it's creepy. For the love of God stop smiling or move away from here", oh well! The coffee had been wonderful after all.