A/N: Thank you for the reviews and the continuing support. I searched myself everywhere for a realistic, very particular type of M/M present day AU (I think Mirrors in Amber is beyond brilliant), before I resorted to writing up one myself. I'd far prefer remaining just a reader. - But now, as promised, Cal's/Merlin's view on things. A very blissful view.
Five.
.
Cal packed his bag in a hurry, hoping that his aunt was not the reason for June's sudden air of detachment. Or maybe he'd stepped over some boundary yesterday. Stupid idiot, why did you need to grab her hand? But then he remembered how she had touched his face, after the shower, the sudden embarrassment at his sudden arousal, and it all made sense again, and then it didn't.
Well, hopefully she would like the surprise trip he had in store for the day. Excited to start already, he lifted his load and beckoned her along, don't grab her hand, show that you're not trying...
'Let's go, then. June?'
'Morgana,' the girl said.
It sounded as if she'd been holding her breath. Way too long.
'What?' Cal stood in a momentary confusion, unsure what she expected him to say or do.
'My name, it's Morgana.' And, quite unnecessarily, she pulled out a driver's licence, among three other cards that spelled out the same name. 'For real, this time.'
'Du Bois,' he spelt, grinning briefly at the girl on the picture, seeing her birthday had already passed, and that - much to his relief - she was only one year older than him. 'Is that French?'
'Only on my mother's side,' Morgana replied, glibly, 'my Dad was simply Irish.' She took the card and hid it away again. Cal briefly wondered why she wasn't named after her father. Perhaps her parents never got married, or maybe she hadn't known him at all.
'Well, don't lose it just yet.' He quirked his head, beaming like an idiot with a state secret. 'You might get to drive around here.'
It's he, though, who did the driving, as the one who really knew the streets. They parked the car just outside the centre and covered the rest of their trip by foot.
The flea market was bustling with people. It was Saturday morning, ten past eleven am, and the sun was high above their heads, bouncing back from silver platters and brass doorknobs. Everything was up for grabs, for the right price.
They managed to sell Morgana's 'treacherous' lamb skin coat for some good 120 pounds, despite her insisting it was worth at least twice the amount. But it was more than enough to pay for a gray woolen coat to serve as its replacement, a hat with furry flaps and matching homemade mittens and a scarf. All in all, the day seemed to go perfectly, and June - Morgana, he kept reminding himself - seemed to have forgotten her earlier somberness and smiled at him a great deal more.
After two long hours looking and trading, the pair made their way towards the riverside, with a lot less to carry back home.
Cal himself had made good money for all his college textbooks. He had also found a watch and an antique clock that Gaius would appreciate. (Or to mitigate his anger once he found out which books he'd sold.)
'Is it true,' Morgana asked him, when they sat on the quay, eating tortilla wraps. 'Were you really away all that time?'
Cal nodded. HE suddenly became very aware of the way she looked at him. There was an equal share of alarm and disbelief and... awe. It was a strange mixture, and he did not want to feel proud or her to admire him for it.
'I did call them, now and again,' he defended himself, launched a pebble into the river. 'Things weren't exactly brilliant on this side of the world either. I used to get into these terrible rows with Gaius... about college, and tuition fees.'
'Was that the reason you dropped out?'
Suppose it was, Cal thought. That and some more. 'Gaius was against me quitting. I can't blame him, though. It's just-... The system no longer made any sense to me. They take all your money, and shove this 'paper' in your face, and you spend the next five to ten years of your life earning it back, trying to remember what you wanted to do in the first place.'
He crinkled up the sandwich paper, discarding the old arguments.
'I'm free now - to do what I want, be who I want. I don't regret any of it. I've been seeing places and meeting people I would never have met... I'm experiencing my life, taking it as it comes.'
'Sleeping on the streets.' Morgana adds.
'Sometimes,' he admitted. 'There's no shame in it. Things come and go, that's just luck as far as I know. It's your goal in life that makes all the difference.'
They fed the remnants of their lunch to the ducks, glaring accusingly as they got up to leave.
Morgana stretched and made some funny sounds as the circulation was slowly restored in her legs. Their mood stayed light and cheerful for the rest of the day and she leaned on him more than a couple of times, pointing at things, laughing and eating ice cream cones against their better judgement. For a blissful while, he imagined themselves as simple tourists, hanging around in the historical city centre.
He avoided asking more about Morgana's back story, to keep from destroying the mood. She was slowly opening up, and he had already learned her name and details about her parenthood, and trusted him entirely with her safety. Safety from what? What if she was chased by a mob, the reluctant heir of a mafia family? The picture in his mind came too close to resembling Dogville, and besides, he would have little chance of protecting her from anyone from that calibre, even though there was an old antique gun in the cupboard.
(Plus, he needed a bullet and gunpowder, and he had never checked if the pouch was actually full...) Cal shook that idea off his mind. It would never get that far.
The idea that the danger could be the police he had discarded the moment it first occurred, seeing no evidence in her of the taut nerves of a wanted criminal. No, this was much simpler. And he had to wait it out. Patiently.
One thing was certain to Cal, that whatever it was, for him, it would not change a thing.
On their way back, Morgana had entwined her fingers with his again, calming his doubts about the night before, and only let it go only as he got back to the car, with him behind the wheel. Cal felt giddy, foolishly happy to be touched by her, while the nagging voice at the back of his mind told him to calm the fuck down and watch the road.
To avoid an awkward silence, he switched on the radio, the forecast promised low degrees and early snow. He imagined what it would feel like, going to the Christmas market next time at the same place, drinking mulled wine together, or how the first snow would look like sprinkled over her dark hair.
Eyes on the road, Cal, eyes on the road.
And while he had successfully avoided the topic, the unknown reasons behind her escape cast a shadow long enough to put a damper on any long-term plans or hopes... Ignoring that she was a girl from a very different background, quite unlike his vagabond lifestyle. The Lady to his Tramp, so to speak. Maybe she'd reject him, saying things were what they were - a weekend fling... Cal cringed inwardly at the thought of it.
He should survive this, shouldn't he?
Then, as they pulled up to their street, he noticed another car at their driveway.
Uncle Gaius was sitting in the living room, the fireplace was lit and he and Alice appeared to in a middle of a discussion. Cal gingerly stepped into view.
'Well, my boy, you're back at last,' Gaius mumbled, a lot less grumpy than he had imagined him to be. A lot older too, and his hair seemed to be longer.
'You've grown taller again,' he appraised, measuring him from head to toe and Cal did not have the heart to tell him it was his uncle himself who kept getting shorter and shorter, getting crunched up as the years went by. Spurred on by that sentiment, Cal wrapped his arms around the aging man, wondering how he had ever managed to get into a fight with him. (Only to be reminded very soon, most likely.)
Brushing aside the tears of sentiment, Gaius then turned towards Morgana, who had been watching the scene play out before her.
'Uncle Gaius, this is... uhm...'
An awkward pause stretched between the four of them.
'Morgana, I presume,' Gaius helped him out of the predicament. Appareuntly, Alice had been let in on her little secret a bit earlier, and Merlin tried his best not to show that it did affect him a bit.
Introducing Morgana proved easier than the night before, and they held a curiously long gaze, before Gaius released her hand, abruptly, and turned to Alice, declaring that he was starving and therefore, clearly, it was the time for the supper.
A/N: Merlin is being so painfully oblivious. And already hopelessy falling for her. Very very sweet, but wait...