Title: These Are Our Lives
Fandom: Merlin
Rating: K+
Pairings/Characters: Gwaine, hapless prison guard.
Spoilers: None, really: set before 3.04
Warnings: Some head-bashing and Gwaine-awesomeness (you might want to shield your eyes;)
Disclaimer: If you're looking for the owners of Merlin in this corner, I'll tell ya right now: go fish.
Summary: Really, it was just his luck to get caught escaping a bar-fight, Gwaine thought. I guess guards in the capital of Mercia are a little more observant than those in Escetia.
AN: This chapter is for anyone looking for an Awesome!Gwaine fix. And even if you aren't, you are more than welcome too;)
Chapter Five: The Fighting Drunk
Gwaine was just putting his boots back on when the guard for the new shift entered. It was a young man of maybe twenty-five, and he looked nervous and a bit high-strung.
"What are you doing with your boots?" he asked suspiciously as Gwaine finished buckling them on.
"Oh, I'm sorry, do you sleep in your boots?" Gwaine asked sarcastically, then rolled his eyes. "'Cause normal people take them off at night. Even in jail," he added under his breath, casting an eye over the dirty cell. The pillow lay on a corner, tossed there earlier; he hadn't wanted to risk lice.
The guard grunted, flushing a little, then sat down without another word.
Really, it was just his luck to get caught escaping a bar-fight, Gwaine thought. I guess guards in the capital of Mercia are a little more observant than those in Escetia. But no matter.
The guard spoke unexpectedly. "The barkeep said you were a bit of a legend. Gwaine, the fighting drunk."
He didn't add any derogatory insults to the end of the sentence, and Gwaine thought, Nice man. Keeps to the rules. Good.
"I like being left in peace, but other people get angry when they've been drinking," Gwaine muttered. "I defend myself. Is that wrong?"
"No," the guard admitted. "But bar-fights are wrong. That's why we brought you in. So no hard feelings, yeah?"
"You've gotta have someone to blame."
The man looked at his hands. "If you like to put it that way." Then they were both silent.
Gwaine watched the man out of the corner of his eye. His keys were on his belt. After a few minutes, he got up and moved to the bars.
"Hey, come here," he said. "I'd like to tell you something." He was fingering something.
The guard raised an eyebrow. "Then you can tell me from here. They warned me not to get into arm's reach."
Gwaine grinned lazily. "Well, then perhaps it's a good thing that you don't need to be in arm's reach . . ." He held up what was in his hand, and a ring of keys glinted in the light.
The guard gave a cry and lunged forward, not even thinking. Gwaine grabbed him and banged his head on the bars: unconsciousness was instantaneous.
". . . In order for me to lure you closer," Gwaine finished his sentence with a shake of the head. "Works every time."
He bent over and grabbed the keys from the guard's belt, then pulled his boot off to return the other set of keys to its hidden depths. As he unlocked the door to the cell, he mentally thanked his old pal Deagan for showing him that trick. It hurt to step on the fake keys, but they were certainly useful in escaping prison.
Gwaine reached the outer door and turned to the stirring guard. "Farewell, friend," he said softly. "Perhaps I'll buy you a drink sometime."
He was gone.
"They're not supposed to show prison films in prison. Especially ones that are about escaping."
-Steve Buscemi
Possibly he goes right back into the hands of the law, but that's where it's ending;)
Fun fact: I originally imagined this with Merlin in Gwaine's place, but that seemed vaguely OOC. So. You get Gwaine instead.
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