Tracks of My Tears

"At first I was afraid I was petrified," Gwen sang, holding her brush in front of her like a microphone. "Kept thinkin' I would never live without you by my side."

She stood in front of the mirror in her polka dotted boy shorts with her iPod tucked into them. Doing a complicated twirl and swinging her hips, she continued:

"But then I spent so many nights thinkin' how you did me wrong and I grew strong," she sang, jumping on her bed. "And I learned how to get along, and you see me somebody new—ahhhh!"

Through her new vantage point, she saw her new boss leaning against the doorframe of her room, an amused smile on his face. In her surprise, she slipped off the bed, landing on her bottom.

"You alright?" Arthur asked as he rushed over.

He offered her a hand, which she graciously took, trying hard to hide her blush.

"How long have you been standing there?"

"Long enough," he said chuckling. "You have a nice voice. We have a studio downstairs if you ever want to use it."

"Uh…thanks," Gwen said. She was clearly mortified. "I'm just going to curl up in a ball and die now."

"May I ask why you were singing a… popular break-up song?" Arthur asked, crossing his hands over his chest. "Have you changed your mind about leaving? Are you… are you breaking up with me?"

If possible, she blushed harder. He was joking, of course, but handsome men should be allowed to make jokes about dating. It brought many images of kissing and… well… inappropriate images to her mind.

"I always sing before going on a date," she said, reminding herself of her promise not to think of her boss in an inappropriate manner. "It gives me good luck."

"A date? You?" he asked, surprised.

Gwen narrowed her eyes. "What is that supposed to mean, Mr. Pendragon?"

"Arthur," he corrected. He cleared his throat, wishing he could take his statement back. "That came out wrong. I just thought you would be taking the day off to, you know, recover from my son."

Gwen nodded, wiggling her bandaged fingers in front of her face. "That's why I'm going on a date."

"What's his name?" Arthur asked, his voice a little louder than he intended. "I might know him."

"Lance," she said, raising an eyebrow at him. "I doubt you'd know him. You're too rich."

"You say that like it's a bad thing."

"It's not," she said, shrugging. "I just don't expect you to know… people like me."

His eyes wandered to her boy shorts. He wished he could tell her she wasn't allowed to wear them. They made her look too cute and were doing odd things to his stomach.

"It's a shame I don't know more people like you," he said, his gaze returning to her eyes.

"You don't know me very well Mr. Pe—I mean Arthur," she said, squirming under his gaze. "For all you know, I'm a trained assassin with a chainsaw hidden under my bed."

He eyed her strangely before chuckling. "Only a lousy assassin would use a chainsaw."

"Well, for all you know, that's the kind of assassin I am," she said, smiling. "The lousy kind who uses Gloria Glaynor songs and chainsaws to kill her targets."

"I honestly can't imagine you being an assassin." Arthur said, sitting down on her bed with his elbows on his knees. "You're far too kind."

"Thanks." She blushed again then cleared her throat. "Was there something you wanted?"

He suddenly looked a little embarrassed. "I… wanted to ask you something."

Gwen nodded, sitting next to him on her bed, eyeing him expectantly.

"I don't know where I should take him," he told her after a few moments of silence. "I haven't taken him out in ages. I'm not even sure what he likes anymore. I thought maybe… maybe you'd have an idea."

"I spent most of the day trying to hide from your son," she said truthfully. "I don't know how much help I can possibly offer you."

"I'll take what I can get," he said, placing his hand on her knee. "Please. I just want this day to be great. I want to try to make up for all the things I've missed."

Her eyes went to her knee and he quickly removed his hand, wondering what had possessed him to touch her.

"He likes to draw and color," she said finally, after an awkward silence. "He's actually pretty good at it."

"Really?" he asked, resting his chin on his palm. "I guess those pictures he draws aren't bad when you ignore the disturbing images in the background. But where can I take him? I can't just buy him a coloring book."

"Those pictures show the two of you together." She smiled, thinking of the happy foreground of Mordred's pictures. "I can't tell you where to take him. You have to think of something. But wherever you take him, he'll be happy because you two are together. That's really all he wants. That, and my untimely death."

Arthur smiled and patted her gently on the back. "I have a feeling he'll warm up to you. It's just going to take some time."

She nodded, standing up to face him. "I've got to get ready now. Have fun with your son."

"Thanks for your advice," said Arthur, standing up as well. "And I very much enjoyed your song."

"Anytime you want your ears assaulted, I'm your girl."

"Have fun on your date," he said, waving to her before walking out of her room.

He didn't know why the idea of his babysitter going on the date made him feel uncomfortable. Perhaps he was worried about cute little Guinevere going out with a guy named Lance, who sounded like one of those wham-bam!-thank you, ma'am kind of men.

Yeah, that was what he would keep telling himself. The alternative was too much of a hassle to even fathom.


Merlin walked down the hallway of the hospital, whistling the entire way, swinging a picnic basket in his hand.

Yes, a picnic basket.

"Merlin?"

He stopped and turned around, holding the basket behind his back. "Gaius!"

The old man raised his eyebrow at his charge, eyeing him suspiciously.

"What are you doing here?"

"I work here," Merlin said, slowly as though talking to a child. "Are you sure you're not developing Alzheimer's, old man?"

"I'm the chief of medicine," Gaius said. "I know your schedule. You're not supposed to be working today, yet you're wearing your uniform. What are you up to now?"

"Nothing!"

"I know you well enough to know when you're lying." Gaius walked toward him, his hands behind his back. "What's in the basket?"

"My lunch." Merlin held the basket in front of him. "I'm just logging a few extra hours."

"You're an attending, and a lazy one at that," Gaius retorted, opening the basket. "You treat your days off as though they're Godsend. And… you hate strawberries."

"I never really gave them a chance," said Merlin, shrugging. He picked one out of the basket and grimaced. "They're actually delicious."

"Eat it, then," Gaius ordered. "If they're as delicious as you say."

Merlin shoved the strawberry in his mouth and chewed it.

"Mmm," he said, almost gagging. "It's really good."

"You're seeing her again," Gaius said, astonished. "Merlin. I told you that this is a bad idea. She's not the kind of person you should be seeing."

"You're wrong," Merlin said simply, closing the basket with an air of finality. "She's exactly the person I should be seeing. She kind and funny and sweet and she likes me. Why can't you just be happy for me?"

"I'm just worried—"

"Save it," he said, stalking past him. "She's waiting for me."

He kept walking, ignoring Gaius's yells for him to come back. He walked down the 4th floor hallway and stopped at door 432. Hesitating for a moment, he let himself in, closing the door behind him.

"Freya?"

She lay on the bed, her back facing him. She didn't respond.

"I brought you some lunch," he said, walking over to her. "I bought the ripest strawberries I could find. And whipped cream. Which can be used for much more than the strawberries.

"Merlin," she said, suddenly, still staring out the window. "I can't do this anymore."

He placed the basket at his feet, confused. She continued, "I can't go on like this, pretending everything's okay when its not. We can never have a normal relationship because there's always going to be a third party."

"Have you found some one else?" Merlin asked quietly. "I bet it's that Galehut. All the ladies fall for him even though he's clearly gay. He wears pink scrubs from Armani, Freya. I know I'm not manly, but I like to think I'm much more manly than him at least."

"There isn't another man, Merlin," she said, turning to him. She was crying. "I meant this disease! It's not going away, Merlin. I'm dying, and you can't be with me anymore."

Merlin closed the distance between them in a few strides. She tried to pull away from him, but he remained firm, kissing her, holding her close. She relented after a few moments, allowing him to kiss her fully.

He pulled away, holding her against his chest, allowing her to cry against him.

"You think I don't know that?" he said, his voice a little gruffer than usual. "It's all I think about when I'm alone. All I think about when I go to sleep, when I wake up. Every second I have with you is precious. I don't want to waste it thinking about something I already know I can't fix."

"I'm sorry," she said, pulling away slightly to wipe the tears from her eyes. "I didn't mean—"

"Shh."

He laid down on the bed, pulling her down with him, holding her just as tightly. He pressed his chin against her head.

"You have to pay me back," he said, after her tears had subsided. "Tonight, we're watching Star Wars, all three episodes."

"I thought there were six?"

"We're not watching those other ones. One, because I don't want you to fall for Hayden Christiansen. Two, because those movies are dead to me."

"You're such a dork," she said, snuggling into his chest.

"But you love me."

"I do," she said, warmly. "But that doesn't mean you're not a dork."

He chuckled, and within a few moments, the two of them drifted off to sleep.


"Thanks for dropping me off, Charlie!"

Gwen beamed at him as the limo slowed to a stop in front of the coffee shop.

"Y-y-you're welcome, Ms. Leodegrance," he said, looking at her through the rearview mirror

"I'm sure Arthur doesn't hate you. He's actually really nice once you talk to him. He's not intimidating at all."

"He told me the only reason he hasn't fired me is because he doesn't want to hire another chauffeur."

"I'm sure he meant that as a compliment," she reassured him. "I'll call you if I need to get picked up again. And if Arthur doesn't appreciate your services, I certainly do!"

She shut the door behind her and the driver drove off in a daze, nearly hitting an old lady in the process.

Gwen winced before looking around for Lance. She had arrived right on time.

"Gwen?"

There he was, in all his ruggedly handsome glory. She nearly dropped her purse as he approached her. She didn't know how it was possible, but he had somehow gotten even more handsome since the last time she'd seen him.

"Let's get going, shall we?"

He offered her his elbow, which she took without a moment's hesitation. Somehow, he'd gotten the memo about her penchant for men with rolled up sleeves, which was +20 to the infinite number of points he'd wracked up.

They sat down at a book near the window and a petite blond girl immediately came to greet them. She smiled at Gwen, but when her eyes reached Lance, she actually squealed.

"Oh my god!" she exclaimed pointing at him. "You're—"

"I'd like to order your mint hot chocolate and a Ruben on rye," Lance said, swiftly cutting her off."

Gwen looked at the girl oddly for a moment before saying, "I'd like a strawberry milkshake and a chicken club sandwich."

The girl didn't budge.

"I can't believe you'd go out with someone like her," the blond said, now looking at Gwen with disdain. "She's so ordinary."

Lance, noticing Gwen's crestfallen face, stood up to face the waitress. "You have no right to talk to her like that. She's more beautiful than you can ever hope to be with that attitude."

The woman didn't reply, she just fumbled with her notepad. "Well… uh… what did you say you wanted, again?"

"I want another waitress," he said, dismissing her. "Actually, I want a waiter."

She scurried away, mumbling to herself.

Lancelot rolled up his sleeves and returned to his seat, eying the menu once more.

"I've had their milkshakes," he said to her, smiling. "They're delicious."

"What was that all about?" Gwen asked, not letting him off the hook so easily. "She seemed to know you."

"I've never seen her in my life," he said, laying his menu on the table. "I don't know what on Earth she was talking about—"

"I don't believe you." Gwen said, sadly. "She wouldn't insult me like that if she wasn't sure of who you were. Just tell me the truth."

"I like you, Gwen," he said, suddenly. "And I don't really know why. I don't know you, but I find you interesting."

She crossed her hands over her chest. "You're avoiding the question."

"Please," he pleaded, placing a hand over hers. "Today, I just want to talk. I just want to be me, and I can't be me if I answer that question. You won't act like you either and I'll never get to know the real you."

"Oh god," she said. "Are you schizophrenic? I know some really great doctors. You really shouldn't skip on your meds, though."

Lance paused before beginning to laugh loudly. It was a deep rumbling sound that reminded her of quiet thunder. It calmed her down.

"You think… you think I'm crazy?"

He was holding his chest, recovering from his bout of laughter.

"Are you?"

"No," he said, shaking his head. "I just want to be a blank slate. Tabula rasa. I'll tell you the truth about everything else, but that's one question I can't answer now and I need you to be okay with that."

"Will you tell me eventually?

"Ah," he said holding up a finger. " "Eventually" implies future meetings. You've already planned to see me again?"

"Yes, I mean… no? I mean—"

"I guess that should be an incentive to go out with me," Lance said, smirking. "If you don't, you'll never figure it out."

"I'm not that curious, actually," she lied. "You have to prove to me that you're not a liar and that you're a good person. Let's finish this date before we think about going on another one. We hardly know each other."

A waiter stopped by with their drinks. He smiled at Gwen, who smiled back. He was cute, in a boyish sort of way, with dark blue eyes, light brown hair, and dimples.

"I'm sorry about Lisa," he said, rolling his eyes. "She can be such a bitch sometimes."

"Tristan?"

"Hi, Gwennie. I was wondering if you'd recognize me with this hair," he said, looking upwards. "I haven't seen you since freshman year! How've you been?"

"Good," she lied. "And you?"

"Law school's a bitch," he said, rolling his eyes. "Work part time at this little establishment to work off my student loans."

"Good for you!" she said. "I'll let you know if I get into any trouble when you make it big."

"Doubtful," he said, turning towards Lance. "This girl does no wrong. She won the citizenship award like 3 years in a row in middle school."

"Hush," she said, blushing. She gestured to Lance. "This is Lance, btw. We're on a date."

Tristan's eyes flickered with recognition, but he said nothing.

"Nice to meet you, Tristan," Lance said.

"Nice to meet you too, " he said, winking at Gwen. "I'll be back with your order."

"He seems nice," Lance said. "It's nice to hear of your younger days."

"Right," she said, still recovering from her mortification. "If nice equals embarrassing."

"Why don't we even the playing field, " he said. "Have you ever played I never?"

Gwen crinkled her nose. "Doesn't that require alcohol?"

"I have hot chocolate," he said smiling, "And you have your milkshake. What else do we need?"

"I'll go first," Gwen said, looking at him over her milkshake. "I never kissed a man."

Gwen took a sip from her milkshake. Lance didn't touch his.

"I assure you, I'm straight as a board."

Gwen raised an eyebrow. "That's what my high school boyfriend said and I caught him kissing Fredrico in the supply closet."

"Ouch." He winced. "I've never eaten an entire pint of Ben and Jerry's ice cream."

Gwen took a long sip. Once again, Lance did not.

"Oh, come on! You're making me look like a pig here!" She took a moment to think. "I've never been to Europe."

He hesitated before taking a sip.

"I'll take you on a trip sometime," he said, winking.

"That sounds amazing…" she said, dreamily. "I've always wanted to go on a trip… but my father…I don't have…"

She trailed off, looking a bit sad.

"I've never… lost a parent," he said, after a long pause.

They both took a sip. Gwen took two.

"My father," he said, before she could ask him. "Cancer."

"My mother died a long time ago," she said sadly. "My father…he… died in an accident. Hit and run. Unsolved."

"I'm sorry—"

"I've never watched LOST," she said, watching him closely.

They both took a long sip.

"Marry me," he said, suddenly. "Just for that."

She giggled. "I'm not getting married until I make something of myself. Especially not to an almost stranger who doesn't answer important questions."

"Touche," he said, holding his hand up in surrender. "Do you have a dream or something?"

"No," she said shaking her head. "I don't know what I'm good at. I'm beginning to think I'm not really good at anything."

"That's not true," he said, looking at her. "There's something different about you. You…make people feel brighter."

"If you see a job description for that, let me know," she said, sighing. "You're too kind, Lance, albeit a bit of an enigma."

He smiled at her. "What's life without a little mystery?"

"I guess you're right." She looked up at him. "Your turn."

"I've never," he paused, reaching across the table to hold her hand. "I've never met anyone quite like you."

He finished his drink and she also took a long sip from her shake. They locked eyes for a moment, his hand still resting on hers.

"I've got a Ruben on Rye and a Club sandwich," said Tristan as he arrived with their sandwiches. He eyed their hands and winked at Gwen.

She blushed and pulled her hand away, looking down at her sandwich.

"So, Gwen," said Tristan, leaning against her booth. "My girlfriend just moved here from Portland and doesn't know the place too well. I was wondering if you could show her around some day."

"I don't mind," said Gwen, looking at him oddly. "But you're going to have to tell me the whole truth."

"Fine," he said, sighing and sliding into the booth next to her. "Isolde wants to go shopping. She doesn't have any friends here and she's a bit lonely—"

"And you're afraid she'll take you shopping," Gwen finished for him.

"She's good," he said to Lance, who nodded.

"I'll do it, but it has to be on a Sunday. My boss only gives me one day off."

"Here's her number," Tristan said, handing her a piece of paper. "She'll be thrilled!"

He walked away smiling and whistling a chipper tune.

Gwen groaned. "Why do I get the feeling I've just made a horrible mistake?"

"You just can't say no, can you?"

"No," she said, giggling. "Well, sometimes. It really depends."

"How about this?" He cleared his throat. "Will you go out with me again?"

She paused for a moment, thrown off by the question. After a few moments, she recovered. "Yes. I don't know why you'd want to see me again. Bitc—I mean, Lisa, was right. I'm just ordinary. Nothing special."

"One day, you'll see what I see," he said, shaking his head. "For now, just take my word for it."

Gwen nodded and took a bite out of her sandwich. The man in front of her seemed too good to be true. He was gorgeous, nice, funny, and he liked her. She knew she should be jumping up and down and singing the hallelujah chorus.

She should be happy but, as they continued to talk more about themselves, she kept thinking about the secret he was keeping from her. She wouldn't let herself be swept away by this man until she discovered exactly what it was.


"You can just drop me off here, Charlie," said Arthur as the driver pulled up to his house.

"Yes, sir."

Arthur chuckled. "You don't seem as nervous as usual."

"A very wise, very pretty girl told me not to be afraid of you," said Charlie as he opened Arthur's door to let him out. "She was right."

"Guinevere told you this?" Arthur asked, surprised. "I don't know why that surprises me. It seems like something she would say."

"I hope the young master doesn't drive her out of the house. She's very nice."

Arthur nodded, giving his driver a strange look. It seemed his driver had a little crush on his babysitter. He was going to get quite a bit of mileage out of that one.

Charlie drove away as Arthur began to walk up the steps leading to his mansion.

"Mr. Pendragon!"

He turned around to see Gwen, hurrying to catch up with him. His lips curved into a smile of their own volition.

"Good Evening, Guinevere," he said, not bothering to correct her. "How was your date?"

"It went well, I think." She crinkled her nose. "Men are strange creatures. Always want to appear mysterious to women."

"Well aren't you the cynic?"

She blushed. "I wasn't –I didn't mean to suggest that you try to be mysterious or anything. Don't listen to a word I'm saying. I'm just a little confused. How was your day with Mordred?"

Arthur's face fell and he sighed. "I had an emergency meeting with a company I've been working with for months. I couldn't miss it."

"And Mordred?" she asked, wincing.

"He's not speaking to me again. He's locked himself in his room. He's going to be in one of his moods tomorrow. I'd be on your guard."

Gwen stopped walking and looked him square in the eye. "Forgive my intrusion, but you've got to make a choice Mr. Pendragon."

"Excuse me?"

"You're the boss. I'm sure you can delegate. If you keep pushing your son aside, if you keep pushing him away, he'll be so far out of your reach," Gwen explained. She turned her back to him. "Your son is more important than any meeting you'll ever have to attend. Think…think before you do something you'll regret."

"Look at me." He said, hearing something odd in her voice. "Are you crying?"

"No." She said, wiping the tears from her eyes.

"This isn't just about Mordred, is it?"

She turned to face him, tears shining in her eyes, taking a deep breath before saying, "The day my father died, we had a fight. I called him some horrible names. I accused him of pushing my mother away…I didn't even tell him I loved him before I left the house. The last thing I ever told him was to stay out of my life. So please… I'm begging you—"

"I understand," Arthur said. Her tears disturbed him. "Just… please stop crying. I can't stand it when girls cry."

He waited a moment before wrapping his arms around her waist. She leaned her head against his shoulder.

"Mr. Pendragon, isn't this inappropriate?" she asked him through tears.

"Consider it payment for your good advice," he answered. "If you want me to let go, I will."

She shook her head. "No, just for today, I need this."

They stood there for a while, in each other's arms. Arthur closed his eyes breathing the scent of her shampoo, and reveling in the warmth of her body. He knew he really shouldn't be doing this, but her body felt too good against his to let go.

Mordred watched the scene through his bedroom window and frowned. He would make her pay for trying to take his father away from him. He would make her pay… right after he finished his plate of chocolate chip cookies.


The plot thickens! I enjoyed writing this chapter! Let me know what you think! I may bring Morgana in either in chapter 4 or 5. We'll see. Until then!

Miki-Hime

The title of this song comes from Smokey Robinson's song, "Tracks of My Tears."