"Thanks again for doing this, Gwen. I really appreciate it."
"No, not at all, I'm happy to do it."
"Nonetheless, I wouldn't have bugged you unless I really needed it. I shouldn't be out too late. Make yourself at home, and shoot me a text if you have any problems."
Gwen smiled as she leaned against the door frame to see him off. "I'm sure we'll be fine. Have a good—"
"Arthur?" A lanky, dark-haired man appeared in the corridor behind him.
"I'm coming!" Arthur protested. "Just need to take care of a few things."
"I spent all this time talking you up to her and now you're running late and she's—" The man paused as he caught sight of her. "Oh, hello. I'm Merlin," he waved his hand at her.
"Gwen," she smiled politely.
"Right," he said slowly, almost to himself, eyes lingering on her face before darting to Arthur's.
Gwen cocked her head, wondering what silent communication was occurring between the two men as Arthur seemed to nod his head minutely.
"Well, um, we should go then. Nice to meet you, Gwen," Merlin smiled.
"You, too."
"Thanks again, Gwen. Won't be late, I promise!" Arthur flashed her one more appreciative smile before leaving.
Gwen closed the door behind the two men and leaned against it a moment, wondering what to make of the encounter.
"Ow!" The sharp cry echoed from the corridor and gave her a start, until she heard an irritated "What was that for?" in the same voice. Merlin.
They were a curious pair, but Gwen resolved not to dwell on whatever Arthur was doing tonight, or whoever 'she' was that was waiting impatiently for him. She might have wished for more time alone with him, but she couldn't refuse him a favor.
Not when he gave her that smile...
"Just you and me, Atticus." He wagged his tail and panted at her dopily, and she ruffled the fur on his head. "Come on," she whispered so as not to disturb Sable, who was passed out on the carpet by the fireplace. "You can sit on the sofa with me and I won't even tell your Daddy."
A pat on the cushion next to her was all the invitation he needed, and he jumped up to nestle beside her, his heavy head coming to rest in her lap. She stroked his soft ears absently as she channel surfed.
Gwen awoke some time later when she felt a weight shifting from her lap and she blinked her eyes open slowly to find a man standing over her with a blanket stretched between his arm span.
When he realized she was awake, Arthur stooped to sit on the coffee table in front of her, knees bumping the edge of the cushion she was resting on.
"Gwen, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to be out this late. Did you get my messages?"
"Hmm? Your...?" Gwen shook off the fog of her slumber to remember where she was, turning to look at her mobile resting on the end table. Five messages from Arthur. "Oh."
The room was dimly lit, only a light from the kitchen behind her and the flashing of the television illuminating Arthur's figure.
"Oh! Yes, it's late, isn't it?" She sat up suddenly and then squeezed her eyes shut as she got a head rush.
"Whoa, whoa," came Arthur's voice, soft but close, and she felt the gentle pressure of his hand cradling the side of her head. "You okay?"
"I'm fine," she said automatically, blinking her eyes open to find Arthur's startling blue irises level with hers, blonde fringe sweeping over his forehead. She had the sudden urge to brush it back from where it fell, but he was examining her for something.
She shook her head. "Really, I'm fine, just a little headache. How was your date?"
As soon as the question popped out, she wished she hadn't asked. Apart from morbid curiosity, of course. But she couldn't exactly retract it.
Arthur looked a little stunned. "My... Oh, yeah, good," he answered distractedly. He cleared his throat, shifting awkwardly in the small space between the couch and the coffee table to stand up. "Can I get you something? Tea?"
"No, that's alright, I should be going. Atty was great."
"Wait," he gestured for her to sit back down. "You can stay here. Really, I insist. It's not as comfortable as your bed, I'm sure—er, that is, it's just a sofa but," he scratched at the back of his head. "Here, I've got some blankets and I'll bring you an extra pillow."
Gwen hesitated, not sure if she was comfortable staying but equally dreading the prospect of getting herself home after midnight.
Arthur's look said please don't bother arguing, you're staying, and Gwen let her shoulders sag in defeat. She supposed it was the most sensible thing to do. Or maybe the least? Was it possible to confuse the two?
He did have a point. His sofa was actually more comfortable than her bed and she felt safe at his place, not to mention how tired she was.
Arthur disappeared for a few minutes and reappeared with some bedding and, surprisingly, a shirt and sleeping shorts for her. Gwen took them with a little blush.
When she came out of the bathroom and made her way back to the sofa Arthur was busy turning off stray lights and locking the door. Finally he came around to face her again and drew the blanket over her, actually tucking her in.
All the while he mumbled, "Really, I would have offered to sleep on the couch instead but, well, Atticus got bored a few weeks ago and decided to eat a huge hole in the middle of my mattress topper and, um, it's not exactly the most comfortable anymore and—"
Gwen stilled his hand with hers and he looked up at her as if he had forgotten she was there. "Arthur, don't worry about it. I'm very comfortable. Thank you."
"Yeah," he said softly, his eyes scanning her face in the faint light cast by the lamp on the end table. His Adam's apple bobbed and he withdrew his hand from under hers. "Well, goodnight then."
As he reached over her to turn out the lamp, she admired the graceful column of his neck and the curve of his jaw, storing the images in a secret place in her mind to revisit later. Arthur's hand came back down and he waited a few moments in the darkness before standing and heading back toward the hallway that led to his bedroom.
Gwen wriggled in the blankets, reveling in the warmth, and then drew her arm up over her head until she was comfortable. Her eyes shifted to where Arthur had gone and though they were still adjusting to the darkness, she thought she saw his silhouette lingering there.
A few blinks and he was gone.
She slept soundly, only roused by the savory scent of breakfast food beckoning her into consciousness. Something was crackling at the stove, and she heard the scrape of a pan shifting against the burner grate.
Then there was...wait, was he humming?
Smiling, she stretched languorously, her toes peaking out from beneath the blanket. Her hands itched to check the time on her mobile, but she resisted in favor of enjoying a few moments of contentment before she confronted reality.
Poking her head up, she saw Arthur setting out plates on the counter. He frowned, then turned to dig in his cabinet to exchange one of them. Then he swapped their positions on the counter.
What on Earth? she thought, a small giggle escaping. He looked up in surprise at the sound.
"Gwen, you're awake! Um, guess this means I can ask you... You don't happen to be vegan or vegetarian, do you?"
She laughed. "No, neither."
"Oh, good," he sounded relieved. "Not that I mind either way," he qualified. "It's just I realized all I had was bacon and eggs and I was beginning to worry that—"
"Sounds good," she smiled, and he grinned slowly.
"Right, then..." He prepared her plate and brought it over to place it on the coffee table in front of her.
"Wow, breakfast in bed. What did I do to deserve this?" she joked.
"Well," he said sheepishly, "I feel like a bit of a jerk for keeping you here so late last night."
"Oh, Arthur, really don't! Honestly, your sofa is comfortable and you've got more channels than I have, and you know I love Atty."
He surprised her by plunking down near her feet and setting his breakfast on the small table next to hers. "Still," he looked at her seriously now. "I really appreciate it, and I'm happy to return the favor."
"Okay," she agreed, turning to her breakfast as she contemplated the many ways she'd prefer him to return the favor.
"Arthur, these are quite good," she complimented him reflexively as she picked at her scrambled eggs.
"Oh I see, quite good eh? But not very good," he teased, pretending to be insulted.
"Um!" she laughed, caught off guard. "They are! Although I've never had them quite so..."
"Vanilla?" he supplied, clearing his throat.
She nearly choked. "What?" But now that he mentioned it...
"Sort of hoping you wouldn't notice," he winced. "I had two eggs and I usually stretch them a little further with some milk, only all I had was my mate's vanilla soymilk he left over."
"Oh my—" she coughed, then quickly recovered. "But um, the bacon is really..." she held it up by the slightly burnt side and was about to take a bite when the top half of it flopped over limply.
There was a beat of silence before they both burst into laughter.
"I'm sorry," Arthur chuckled good-naturedly. "I really shouldn't have subjected you to this. Somehow I thought it would be nice but—"
"You know what," she tried to keep a straight face but she couldn't help giggling as she said it. "It's really...you've clearly got some skills here—"
"Oh yeah?" he grinned at her, daring her not to laugh.
"Yeah," she laughed, "but maybe we could just...refine them a little more."
"Mmm," he said, feigning intrigue as he tossed the rest of his burnt bacon back onto his plate. "And how shall we do that?"
Gwen managed to school her features into a thoughtful expression. "Well, perhaps we can try some less exotic flavoring next time."
He raised his eyebrows at her with an encouraging smile. "You think?"
She loved that he could make fun of himself. "Mmhmm, and perhaps a little...time management."
"For the record, I do know how to cook bacon properly. I just got a little sidetracked, is all."
"Well, that remains to be seen," Gwen cocked an eyebrow, waving the pathetic piece of evidence at him. "But I bet you can make some fantastic toast."
"Oh, you haven't seen the likes of my toast anywhere else. If you had, this would be a whole other conversation."
"Mmm, next time then," she said with false enthusiasm and he laughed, running his tongue across his teeth in a rather distracting manner.
Sable took advantage by tugging the bacon swiftly from Gwen's resting hand and making off with it before she could react.
Gwen gasped, "Sable, no! That is very naughty! Sable, you do not—are you laughing? You...!" she smacked Arthur's side as he flopped back on the sofa.
"Somebody had to eat it," he reasoned with twinkling eyes.
Try as she might, she couldn't resist laughing with him. She felt positively giddy.
Gwen's mobile began to ring and she leaned over to check it. "Oh, shit. It's my brother," she said. "Sorry."
She stood up, letting the blanket fall from her lap, and took the phone into the kitchen.
"Hey El, what's up? Right now?" She sighed. "Okay, give me like twenty minutes, alright? 'Kay. You too."
"Family troubles?" Arthur asked.
Gwen rolled her eyes. "My brother makes a habit of turning up whenever he likes, usually when it's most inconvenient for me. He needs me to let him into my flat."
"He hasn't got his own key?"
"He used to, but there were a few times when he came in at um, inopportune moments. So we decided he'd just give me notice."
"Oh, right." Arthur's cheeks were tinted red, and he cleared his throat. "Funny your brother's in town; I've actually just been meeting with my—"
"Shit, again?" Gwen interrupted when her phone went off again, casting Arthur an apologetic smile as she answered the call. "Hi. Umm, sure. The blue one? Okay. Anything else? 'Kay. See you soon."
"Sorry, he wants me to pick something up on the way. Guess he's here for a while. I should probably go," she said reluctantly.
"Right, okay," Arthur said, getting up. He seemed jittery for some reason as Gwen helped him gather the dishes and then put Sable back on her lead.
"Thanks for letting me stay, Arthur. And for the breakfast," she gave a wry smile.
He held the door for them and hovered there, using his legs to block Atticus from following. "Oh, I really am sorry about that," he laughed. "Thanks again for watching him for me," he hesitated. "Um, hey...you wouldn't want to go to this...night...thing at the science museum, would you? It's um, next Saturday I think."
Gwen was caught off guard. "With you?" she asked dumbly.
"Yeah...I mean, it doesn't have to be like a...if you don't want—" Arthur scratched at the back of his head as he rambled.
"No, that sounds really fun," Gwen said quickly, though she still wasn't entirely clear about what she was agreeing to. But she wasn't going to pass up on another evening with Arthur.
"Really?" he grinned, and she tried to memorize his expression. "Great. Um, I've got a work conference next week, but I'll let you know about it when I get back?"
"Sounds perfect." They stood together, smiling like idiots, until Sable began to whine and tug at her lead. "Oh, right. I should go. I'll talk to you soon!"
"Bye, Guinevere!"
Her heart was leaping and her lips stretched wide as she walked away, hearing Atticus bark after her.
She might have been annoyed with her brother as she drove out of her way to pick up a gallon of milk on the way home, but she was too preoccupied thinking about Arthur.