Hello there, mad HATters! Here's a nice long one for you... Thanks to everyone who's been reading and reviewing! Your reviews mean the world to Lacrima and myself! :)

Disclaimer: As per usual, Merlin belongs to the BBC and folklore... he isn't ours.

Someone's In The Kitchen With Merlin… [Merlin]

"It looks FANTASTIC," Gwen had said when the lady at the bakery brought out the Cake. Although I suppose I shouldn't call it a bakery. It was more like some kind of magical factory where you went in with an order for a cake, and came out with a work of art.

The Cake (with a reverentially capitalised "C") was three-tiers of chocolate sponge alternately layered with whipped cream, raspberry jam and various other interesting gooey substances. It was covered in chocolate icing, dark and white, that looked for all the world like someone had carefully wrapped ribbons around the outsides. Perched around the edges of each tier were startlingly fresh raspberries, and on the top, spelled out in caramelised sugar, were the words "Happy 20th Birthday Morgana".

It was, simply put, a masterpiece. And it had bloody better have been, Gwen and had spent a whole afternoon seeking out friends of Morgana and asking them if they'd like to chip in.

I'd come straight from work to the cake shop, and I'd gone straight from uni to work. So I was feeling pretty pooped already, which probably wasn't a good thing at all. I tried to pull myself together. I needed all my stamina for the party. The thing is, I'd made myself another resolution, whilst showering that morning. It had come to me suddenly as I put the soap-on-a-rope back on its hook. If I was going to be PROPERLY gay, I would need a boyfriend. And what better place to meet men than at a party where no-one would care less what you were up to unless they were totally checking you out?

All this thinking about gorgeous rich friends of Morgana's who might just have enough money for a residence on the Isle of Capri was putting my mind off what was REALLY important here: Morgana and her cake.

Oh yes, the Cake.

"Damnit, Gwen, I just want to keep it all for myself!" I moaned as we paraded back to the car, Gwen insisting on carrying the Cake, even though the box holding it rose well above her eyes.

"If I could, I would slap you!" she said, continuing her forward march. "After all the people we got to pay for this, you want it FOR YOURSELF!"

I rolled my eyes. We loaded the Cake into the backseat of Gwen's dad's car, and strapped it in tightly. And then we drove off to Pendragon Palace.

Apparently, Uther and his wife (I always forget her name; Morgana just calls her "mummy") had kindly offered to spend the night at a hotel (albeit an incredibly fancy one) so that Morgana would have the fortress to herself for a great night in with a bunch of friends, a hired DJ and a whole lot of other wonderful stuff that happens when your parents are away.

And for some reason, Gwen had a key.

"We're baaaack!" Gwen called out when we entered. Arthur came through to greet us. "We got the Cake! It looks so deliciously ummy-nummy that I had to handcuff Merlin to the glove compartment to stop him sneaking off some of the icing."

I blushed. That was NOT true. Entirely.

There was a ding from the kitchen. Arthur hurried off.

Arthur? The kitchen? Was I in a parallel universe?

He was busy with the oven, and I grinned. "Arthur, I had no idea you could cook! I always had you down as the sort of person who wouldn't know one end of a whisk from the other."

And, to myself, I wondered why Morgana hadn't gotten catering. Maybe she'd blown her (incredibly high) allowance on the DJ and the champagne fountain that rested dormant in the entrance hall. Rich people are weird.

"Oh yes," Arthur replied, puffing up his chest territorially. "Little do you know, dear MERlin, that I am indeed an excellent chef, and will be catering this entire event. On the menu will be gazpatcho soup for starters, followed by a palate-cleansing lavender gelato taster thingy, then duck à l'orange, and then quadruple-layered chocolate and cherry cream mousse for dessert. And an after-dinner mint."

I raised an eyebrow. I doubted that Arthur knew what gazpatcho is. He would probably recoil at the idea of a chilled tomato soup. ("Cold soup? COLD SOUP? Why on EARTH would you eat COLD SOUP?")

"I'm impressed," I replied, "not that you will be cooking that because it's frightfully obvious that you have no idea what you're on about, but that you can actually make up a menu like that off the top of your head."

"It was an amalgamation of what I had the last few times I went out to dinner," he admitted.

I was wrong, he DID know what gazpatcho is. "Well good job on the recall. You deserve a smiley-face sticker."

"But I want the one with the puppy dog!" he cried, pouting stupidly. I laughed. He looked like such an idiot. But if any man could pull off a pout, it was Arthur.

"I'd better go help Gwen decorate," I said, suddenly remembering.

"Off you go, then," he said.

I dashed outside, where Gwen was hanging silver and gold streamers around the lounge room. Solid silver and gold, shipped from Tiffany and Co., probably.

"Hey Merlin," she said, "give me a hand here, would you?"

"Sure thing."

I climbed up on the little ladder after she'd come down, and took a pin that she offered up to me. Gwen was nothing if not a dedicated decorator, but she was short. And that was a bit of a major drawback. The grand lounge room of Pendragonland had a higher ceiling than any normal room in any normal house.

But once I was up on the ladder, I realised that it wasn't exactly sturdy. It felt like it would collapse into a heap if I were to weigh any more. Gwen tells me I'm too skinny. She probably didn't take into account that it would save my life one day.

Then again, skinny or not, it wouldn't have mattered once I shoved the pin through the two disjointed ends of streamer forcefully and sent the ladder toppling backwards. It, and I, fell with a clatter onto the shag carpet.

"FUCK!" I cried, and rubbed the back of my head. I sprung up. "That ladder is DANGEROUS, Gwen!"

"Yeah, but you got the pin in!"

"Dangerous," I repeated, "don't get back up there."

"'Sokay, I'm done with the streamers anyhow."

I frowned.

"Oh," she said, "I almost forgot. We left my salmon canapés and your quiches back at mine. Do you want to drive over to get them?"

I shrugged. "Sure."

"Yeah, go on," she said, chucking me the keys. "You'll only hurt yourself if you stay here and help me."

I caught the keys with one hand. "Nice," I muttered to myself, before heading off to the car.

The last time I'd driven, I'd swerved off the road to avoid some ducklings. I crashed into the nearby park and knocked down a table adorned with all sorts of colourful foodstuffs for a kid's birthday party. Arthur was furious. I'd nearly killed some small children and I had actually squashed a couple of ducklings, but on top of that there was a massive dent in the front of his car that I'm still paying off to this day. I think. Maybe he's forgotten about it.

Perhaps it was irony, then, that had me in Gwen's car, collecting all sorts of colourful foodstuffs for Morgana's party. Perhaps it was karma.

I got into the car and turned the key in the ignition. As I drove off, I saw Gwen running out of Pendragon HQ, waving her arms about.

Maybe she'd remembered about the ducklings.

I grinned and kept driving. This was going to be fun.

xxx

By the time I got back, the party had already started, and guests were trickling in. There were cars all down the street. I shrugged to myself, and parked in the driveway. No-one would mind. And anyway, there were no major road accidents on the way, I didn't need to cause one NOW by trying to reverse parallel park.

I carried the salmon canapés in and a blonde girl coming in at the same time as me offered to carry the quiches for me... mum's special recipe – guaranteed to please.

And then I began browsing, if you will, the buffet of handsome male friends that Morgana had so kindly supplied me with that evening. My reasoning is, if they're still hanging around Morgana, they're gay. If they were straight, they'd've tried it on with her, been rejected and sort of steered clear of her ever since to avoid embarrassment.

Not many of them were incredibly good looking. No-one stood out from the crowd. After about half an hour loitering stupidly near the champagne fountain I hopped through to the kitchen. Gwen was in there, half-arsedly looking over the food, but also talking to this guy, who was grinning insanely, like he couldn't believe his luck that he'd found a woman who was good in the kitchen.

"Oh, Merlin!" she said when she saw me. "This is Lance. We were just talking... uh..."

"Yes?"

"Do you reckon you could take over in the kitchen for a while?"

I smiled. There was nothing that made me smile more than a potential hook-up for Gwen. That's just how best friends roll.

"Of course," I said cheerily.

Little did I know that she was up to the cupcakes and cookies. Oh god. The cupcakes. The cookies. They were such a trial, they weren't even worth a capital "C". Neither of them. I was struggling for a bit, before Morgana came in and said how absolutely awful it looked to be doing such hard work on my own. I shrugged.

"I'm fine."

"Nonsense," she said emphatically, "I'll go and fetch Arthur to give you a hand. You're almost done in here anyway."

"You don't have to!" I protested, but she went off anyway. At least I COOK on a regular basis. Whenever mum's not home. Arthur DOESN'T. He'd cock it up more than I was.

However, about fifteen minutes later, whilst I was stirring the dough for the cookies, he turned up in the kitchen, looking aloof and cool as usual. And despite everything I'd said, I kinda wanted his help.

"Arthur! Thank god!" I said. I ran up to him and shoved the cookie dough into his hands. "Can you mix this? I have to ice these cupcakes..."

He took the bowl and began to stir.

"Thanks," I said. "No, be more gentle with it, you want to keep as much of the air in the mixture as possible."

Arthur shrugged and slowed down slightly. It wasn't near slow enough. I decided not to push my luck.

"Sorry to pull you away from the party and all, but everything just got crazy the second Gwen went off with that guy," I said, well aware that I was beginning to babble. "Bad timing, really. Oh well, I've got you now to keep me company."

And I really DID appreciate Arthur's company. Even if he was crap in the kitchen. I began to ice the cupcakes.

Suddenly, out of the corner of my eye, I caught a glimpse of Arthur. His hair was reflecting the light. I'd once said I wanted hair like his, and he said nonsense, I wouldn't be me without my hair. I'd asked him if he wanted hair like mine. "Are you kidding?" he'd replied. "Your hair is ridiculous."

But then some other hair caught my eye. His CHEST hair. It was poking out from the top of his neatly ironed shirt, undone to the second button for full effect. And his chest. My god. If MORE of his shirt was unbuttoned, I would see his incredibly toned abs, which I only ever saw when we went swimming, which was not often because I can hardly handle myself in water. And his arms... as he stirred the dough his muscles tensed and were bulging at the corner of his sleeves...

Suddenly, I was stirred from my reverie by Arthur himself, saying slightly hesitantly "um, the chocolate is going everywhere."

I snapped out of my daze. I had been staring at him. Not good, Merlin. "Oh shitty bollocks pants in a hat!" I yelled, grabbing a nearby tea towel and starting to mop up the brown syrup that was snaking across the kitchen floor.

I looked up briefly, and Arthur's eyebrow was raised. "Did you just say 'oh shitty bollocks pants in a hat'? Was that really the expletive you chose to use?"

I rolled my eyes, continuing to mop up. "Uh, yes. I did. Shut up. I'm a little stressed out here."

As I stood to rinse the tea towel and see if there were any paper towels hiding anywhere, I saw the corner of his mouth raise into a smile.

"You know what? Forget the cupcakes. You go out there and have some fun. I'll finish them up."

What a genuinely friendly gesture! How... confusing! "Are you sure? I don't want you to miss out on the fun."

"I'll be fine," he said, "I've been out there too long. And am getting a bit tired of all those twatty psychology friends of Morgana's, to tell you the truth. They can be incredibly boring."

"Y'know, usually when you're trying to convince someone to do something, telling them why it sucks so much isn't a smart move."

"Oh shut up, MERlin," he said, "and go have some fun. And try those little quichey things, they're bloody orgasmic."

I smiled. "You like them? I made them. Mum's old recipe. They tend to go down really well."

Arthur looked a mixture of annoyed and confused. "What, really? But I thought that blonde girl brought them."

"No, she was just carrying them for me," I said, "I sure hope she isn't getting false accolades for it!"

I gasped, and then grinned at Arthur. He cocked his head to one side, gesturing for me to get out there and party down. I did.

Almost as soon as I got out, I found what I was looking for. There he was, a tall and slightly posh looking chap in a fedora. And by god, he was handsome.

"Hello," I said smoothly, "enjoying the party?"

"Yeah, I guess," he said. Okay, handsome? Yes. Charming? Maybe.

"You a friend of Morgana's?"

"Of course," he said, as though it were obvious.

"I'm Merlin. Merlin Emrys," I said, doing my best Bond, James Bond impression.

"I'm Leon," he replied. Lazy? Well, too lazy to tell me his surname, that's for sure.

All of a sudden, I felt a pair of arms enfold me from behind. And, unless I was mistaken, they were very strong and muscular arms that had recently been stirring cookie dough.

"... Uh, Arthur? What are you doing?"

"I am quite obviously hugging you, you blithering idiot," he said, as I turned my head slightly so that I was looking him in the eyes.

"No shit," I said. "Why?"

"Because you made the awesome quiches, that's why."

"Aw, shucks," I said, with false sweetness. Arthur quirked an eyebrow at me, before letting go and heading back to the kitchen.

I looked back to Leon. He looked quite confused. "That's Arthur Pendragon, isn't it?"

"Yeah, it is."

"Is he your BOYFRIEND?" he asked, astonished.

"Heavens, no, he's terrified of commitment. We're just shagging casually," I joked flippantly.

Leon's eyes widened. "WHAT?"

I laughed. "Gotcha there, didn't I?"

He laughed uncomfortably. "You did too..."

But he wasn't the only uncomfortable one. The places where Arthur's arms had lingered were tingling madly, I all of a sudden felt like someone had turned up the thermostat, and my jeans felt six sizes too small around the crotch. OH crap.

"Would you excuse me?" I said to Leon, not giving him much choice.

Before he could say anything, I was off to the bathroom. And all the time, my brain was swimming with questions.

Why here? Why now?

Why Arthur?

What did you think? Leave a review and you'll get an ummy-nummy virtual slice of the Cake!

With love,

- Legs