Disclaimer: I own nothing. Trust me, I own nothing. I am just a slave on the wheel of destiny. Okay, maybe not. But it's still not worth a nickel to sue me if you don't like the stories I write. King Arthur and all of the non-original stuff belongs to other people and their depictions in my stories are in no way meant to bring about lawsuits or therapy.
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Author's Note: I'm having more fun than should be allowed writing this. Thank you for reading.
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Muses Behaving Badly
Chapter Two: Hiding In Plain Sight
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How I managed to get clear of the knights is kind of fuzzy. One minute Dagonet was giving me a wolfish grin and the next thing I knew I was locked in the bathroom, starting a mantra under my breath. "Dark Angel. Max and Alec. Superatural. Dean and anything female with a pulse. Magnificent Seven. Ezra, Buck, Chris, Josiah. Stargate. Sam and Jack. Daniel and Janet." So far it was working. Chanting out all the ficdoms that I wrote about was keeping my mind off King Arthur.
A thud against the door and I knew the problem. I had just thought of the knights while congratulating myself on not thinking about them.
"My lady, you have to come out." Trust Arthur to begin the hostage negotiations with my bathroom.
I shook my head, my legs braced against the inward-swinging door and back braced against the bathtub. "Over my dead and rotting corpse. A body can live for weeks without food. And I'm not coming out until you all go back to the far reaches of my brain." I sounded peevish to my own ears and I winced.
"Dagonet," called Arthur.
Wood splintering above me had me scurrying backwards to land in the bathtub, my eyes as round as saucers. I had not actually believed that Arthur and his kingly butt would order Dagonet to hack his way into the bathroom. A well-placed kick to the door and it swung open, showing me that all seven of those knights were crowded into the hallway.
"Mom's gonna kill me," I whimpered, looking around at the demolition that now filled the bathroom. I skittered back further, the back of my head thumping against the tiles. "Stay away. I'll never get my papers done if you stay," I whined.
Lancelot stepped into the bathroom, wood crunching under his boots, and sat on the toilet. "Why do you run from me?"
I frowned. Trust Lancelot to think this was all about him. "I was not running from you. I was running from all of you. Now get out of my bathroom."
Lancelot looked to Arthur, who nodded. Reaching into the shower, he turned on the tap.
"EEEEAAAAHHHH!" I shrieked as cold water poured down on me in the bathtub from the shower head. Dropping my head against my knees, I shook my head in resignation. "What are you all doing here?" I demanded, looking up through very wet hair that was now plastered over my eyes.
Dagonet set the axe on the vanity and leaned against the porcelain. "You thought of us. And you haven't written about us in months."
I nodded then dropped my head back down onto my jean clad knees. The water was icy and I was starting to shiver. My teeth set up a staccato beat, rattling my entire body. "Can I get out now?" I pleaded.
The men nodded, not seeming to realize what I had already realized. I was wearing a white shirt which would be sheer after my cold shower.
"Get out!" I ordered, pointing to the door.
Arthur spotted the sheer fabric on my arm and his eyes widened in understanding. There's a reason he got to be king. He was no dummy. "Men, let's go back to the kitchen."
Two minutes later I was alone in the bathroom again. Standing up, I grabbed a towel and wrapped it around my chest before stepping through the shattered door and into the hallway. The men were in the kitchen and my room was the opposite direction. I scurried to my room, dropping my wet underwear, jeans and top into my hamper at high speed and pulling on a bra, camisole and jean shorts in record time. I knew these knights--be gone long enough and they come looking for you. I was sure as hell not gonna let any of those knights, especially Lancelot and his cold water shower butt see me naked.
Satisfied that all the important bits were covered I started towards the kitchen. The men were busy eating the leftovers that Mom had told me to eat. Yay, I didn't have to eat liver since Bors was chomping away happily on the last of Mom's liver dinner. I stepped into the kitchen, went straight for the refrigerator, and pulled out a 20 oz. of Diet Sunkist, twisting off the cap and taking a pull from the soda in one smooth action. The cap got tucked into my hip pocket so that I wouldn't lose the fizziness.
"What are you wearing?" asked Bors, giving me the "daddy voice." I kept forgetting that I was about the same age as his daughters in the movie.
"Clothes," I answered testily as I plopped in front of the computer and booted it up. "See, now I'm going to write. Satisfied? Can we please chalk this up to a psychotic break and send you boys back to the ether of my imagination?"
Gawain dropped onto the couch at the end nearest the couch and looked at me. I don't care what my brother says, Gawain is so much more than 'come, see, smash.' And with those blue puppy dog eyes I couldn't stay mad at him, even though I had no idea how to replace that door Dagonet had destroyed. "What will you write?" came the plummy voice of the golden-haired knight.
I stared at the screen as it came up, my skin coloring a rich rose hue when I realized that that the background of my screen was a shot of Gawain and fought the urge to run when Gawain's voice rumbled from the speakers of my computer telling Horton that God didn't live in Britain. Quickly clicking on the My Documents icon, I cleared the screen of the blue-eyed knight. "What?" I squeaked.
Gawain gave me an odd look. "What will you write?" he repeated.
I groaned as my mind blanked and came to a frightening realization.
Writer's block.
Damn.
TBC...
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