Disclaimer: Oh, get lost. You know I don't own it.

He's got quite sexy lately…

Nah. Nice as it would be to get a boyfriend, he would never go out with her. All the time she had known him, a distant thought had lurked in her mind. But never anything more than; Gosh, he's got nice legs, or, His smile's really quite nice…

Though Lord Blackadder disapproved of love. He had always said that if his father had never met his mother, he would never have been forced to live such a miserable existence.

"If my mother hadn't been a curtain puller on my father's drag act." He once said. "I would have a blissful existence as a cell, free from any complications or turnips."

The Queen brightened a bit as she thought of Blackadder's little monkey. She'd often suggested bringing him in as a bit of court entertainment, but Edmund had insisted that "He'd make a mess of that the way he's made a mess of everything in his life. He certainly had made a mess of the turnip surprise. Still, it'd been rather fun to lick your dinner up from the kitchen floor, even though Meltchey insisted that little bugs lived on it.

Anything was fun with Edmund around.

She sighed, and reached for her diary. Yet another ludicrous suggestion of Meltchey's, though she had to admit, it was rather soothing. Picking up her favourite quill, the one she'd dyed lilac, she scribbled the one sentence.

Tell Edmund

Tell him what, though? It was what agony aunts always said in 'Posharses Weekly', but she could never be bothered to read the letters containing people's problems. After all, she was queen, she had matters of state and her shoes were too small. Other people's problems seemed trivial in comparison.

But what should I tell him? That I like bearded men? That black was very aging? That you weren't actually supposed to employ cockroaches as servants? The way to her bedroom? Hmm. The last one seems like a good option.

She leaned back in the mahogany throne. Really, these newfangled agony aunts didn't give you much of a clue.