"Merlin, you're holding it upside down," Arthur grabbed the map from his hands and turned it around.

"Eyes on the road!" Merlin shouted back. Arthur's eyes had shifted off the road at least seven times in the past hour.

Merlin was beginning to seriously question his safety. It was something he often did while in the vicinity of Arthur, but usually it was more of a one-sided-sexual-tension-I-might-combust type of safety that everyone experienced at least once in their life. This time, he feared for his actual security of life. Arthur did not drive like a person that was sane.

"You're going the wrong way!" Merlin yelled now. And Arthur had a few issues with that because he was going in the right direction, Merlin just didn't know this yet.

"No, Merlin. We're not."

"Yes, we are," and contrary to his earlier request of Arthur keeping his eyes on the road, he pushed the map in front of his face and pointed.

"This road takes us southwest, to Barcelona. This road, which is the road we are currently on, takes us northwest, and that just won't do."

"Gaius didn't tell you, did he?" Arthur cringed, expecting the worst. Obviously it wasn't Gaius' responsibility to tell Merlin where they were going, but it was a hell of a lot easier than Arthur accepting blame for lying.

"We're not going to Barcelona, are we?" Merlin asked. He seemed almost resigned to the fact, as if he could go anywhere. And of course he'd love to go to Barcelona but what was the point of arguing when Arthur had the wheel?

"We are still going to Barcelona, we're just going to Bordeaux first." he braced himself again. He knew what Merlin was like.

"And what exactly are we doing in Bordeaux?" he asked, a previously unknown venom creeping into his voice.

"Just um. Pretending to be a gay couple from England on their honeymoon and spying on Mercia for Gaius," he said it quickly, as if he knew what was coming next. Which, to be fair, he did.

Merlin started hitting him with the open map and when that proved to be wholly ineffectual, he used his fists. He hit Arthur on the arm, the leg, the solar plexus, anywhere but the face. He was driving, after all. And Merlin would hate to cause irreparable damage.

Arthur started hitting back, one-handed, trying to look ahead but failing as he aimed his blows impeccably.

"Ten and two! Ten and two!" Merlin shouted. And when Arthur turned back to the road, he could have sworn he saw Merlin, from the corner of his eye, smile behind the map he was pulling back up to his face.

"If you disappear on this honeymoon, do you think anyone will notice?" Merlin asked darkly.

"I think you'd notice. Very much." Arthur nodded like a very self-assured individual and wondered how Merlin would get along without him, if it came to that.

If there was one thing he knew for certain about that scenario, it was that Merlin would never ever find his keys.

...

And Merlin sat beside him and thought, I could never let you leave. Who would find my keys?

And he thought, vaguely, that it was much more than the keys and the finding things and the fact that he always had the heat on because he knew Merlin got cold and it somehow was just... Arthur. All of him.