Invitations and Open Doors

When Arthur's alarm went off at 6:00 a.m. on his day off, he wished for terrible things. He could've sworn that he turned it off yesterday. He dismissed it and went back to sleep. It rang again at 6:05 and 6:10.

"What the—?" He checked alarm setting. A string of alarms were set to go off every five minutes. He turned off every one of them and flopped back on the bed. He covered an arm over his eyes and tried to drift back to sleep.

The phone went off again. "Goddammit!" He was about to chuck it then he realized it was a text message.

Our place at 7.

It was from Gwen. Yesterday, she was at the station to speak with the superintendent about Helios' known associates. But before she went to Gaius' office, she was in Arthur's. He had left her alone for two minutes when he went to get Gaius. He left her alone with his phone. "Our place," he read out loud. "Ha." Their place had become the café where they first had coffee together.

He had a half hour to get ready. He grumbled and rolled out of bed.

Despite it being early in the morning, he expected Gwen to be all dolled up in a form fitting dress, high heels, slim cigarette between her fingers in one hand and a clutch with a small pistol inside in the other. He needed to lay off the Saturday night film noirs with Merlin. Gwen was sitting at their usual spot, lazily dressed just as he was. They both wore hoodies, his red and hers purple, and their jeans were even the same dark wash. Hers were tighter than his, of course.

"This better be important," Arthur said as he sat down.

"It is. It's breakfast, the most important meal of the day." His scowling only made Gwen's smile widen. "Cheer up! I'm paying."

Over coffee and breakfast sandwiches, they played their usual game of spot the potential killer.

"So many angry faces this morning. How many homicides occur around this time?" Gwen asked and bit into her sandwich.

"They largely happen in the evening. The daytime ones are usually shootings, involuntary manslaughter, deadly housewives…"

Gwen clapped her hands together with glee. "Ooh, tell me more about the deadly housewives," she egged him on.

Arthur sipped his coffee and leaned back in his chair. "There isn't much to say. They hate their husbands, and they like to mess with peoples alarms."

The next night it was his turn to drop in on her. It wasn't exactly unannounced; he did have an invitation, sort of, in the form of three spaced out text.

Come over when you're free.

30 minutes later…

Nvm I'll tell you when

2 hours later…

All clear. Door's open.

The door couldn't be closed if it tried. There was a hole where the knob and lock should've been. Arthur drew his gun and went inside. It was dark except for a light on in the kitchen. He entered the lit room and found it empty as well.

Crunch.

He stepped on shattered glass, and when he backed up to look at it, he felt a point dig into his back.

"Sorry. I thought you were someone else." Gwen rounded him and placed the knife on the counter. She danced around the glass shards and put the kettle on.

"Are you going to clean that up?" Arthur asked.

Gwen stared disinterested at the mess. "Eventually."

Arthur holstered his gun, but his detective instinct took over and he analyzed his surroundings. Clear paths swept through the pile like it was pushed aside with a foot...or dragged. He was absorbed in his analysis that he didn't notice Gwen standing next to him offering him a cup of tea.

"Helios' friends dropped in. They really made a mess of the place."

He took the tea without hesitation this time. "Did they come to send a message?"

"They came looking for Helios. They don't know he's dead, and he owes them money." Gwen shrugged as if it wasn't a big deal. "These men would stab each other for a quid," she snickered.

"And that bruise on your wrist?"

"It got a little rough."

"Are you alright?"

She smiled. "You should see the other guy. I didn't kill him if that's what you're wondering." Her eyes flickered to the knife. "Got him in the leg." She sighed. "Bled all over the carpet."

Arthur sat at the table and took a sip of the tea. It was good. Really good. He briefly wondered how the tea that killed Helios tasted.

Gwen joined him. "Have you ever been shot?"

Arthur's hand automatically went to his shoulder. "Yeah."

"How'd it happen?"

"Just some meth-head," he said casually.

"Such contrasting feelings on either side of the gun, aren't they? When you hold it, you have the power; on the other side of it you're helpless."

"How many times have you been on the receiving end?"

"More than enough. Today one was pressed against my temple." Gwen tapped her temple then stood up. She grabbed the knife, walked around the glass and continued the story. "He held it against me and dragged me. As we passed the counter," she used the knife as a pointer, "he didn't notice that I grabbed the knife. When we reached the living room, I stabbed him in the thigh." She stabbed downward for emphasis. Then she pointed to Arthur's shoes with the knife. "You might've stepped in some blood on your way in."

Arthur frowned. "Did you even try to clean up?" Gwen flicked the light on in the living room. Clearly not. There was a trail of dried blood splatter along the floor. Throw pillows were everywhere, the glass coffee table was also shattered, and a crack ran through the television. There were also several bullet holes in the wall.

Gwen sighed. "There goes the resale value."

Arthur's brain was doing its detective scan again, envisioning the struggle without Gwen's narration. "Wait. You said 'Helios' friends.' What happened to the other guys?"

"You should see the other rooms."

Two weeks later, Arthur finished a heavy case. They got the guy but there were two hostages, and unfortunately they couldn't save them both. He washed the day away and stepped out the bathroom with a towel around his waist. He nearly jumped out of his skin when he saw Gwen lying across his bed propped up on her elbow.

She sat up sleepily. "Do you even have hot water left? You were in there for some time. Or were you…?" She finished the sentence with a wiggle of her eyebrows

Arthur held the towel tightly around his waist. "I think we're going to have to have a conversation about boundaries."

"I saw the news. I'm glad you're okay," she said.

"Thanks."

"Do you want to talk about it?"

Arthur clutched end of the towel tighter. "I want to put on clothes."

Gwen covered her eyes, and he smiled at her. He changed in the bathroom, and when he came out he saw Gwen lying on the right side of the bed. On the left side, his preferred side, he laid on his stomach with his head turned to her.

"What are you doing here, Guinevere?" He was too exhausted to care, but he thought to ask anyway.

"I wanted to make sure you were alright," she spoke quietly now that they were in such close proximity.

Arthur bet she had an ulterior motive. "And?"

"And I'm homeless."

Ah, there it is. "What happened?"

"House burned down."

"How?"

"Candle? Gas leak?" Gwen snapped her fingers and pointed. "Faulty wiring!"

Arthur buried his face in his pillow. "Great. You're an arsonist now."

Gwen pushed him. "I didn't say I did it!"

He rolled over away from her. "What haven't you done since I met you?"

Gwen stared at Arthur's back thinking. "Oh! I haven't committed robbery."

Arthur snorted.

They laid in comfortable silence. Arthur began nodding off, but Gwen's voice woke him back up.

"You're bed is a lot more comfortable than the one at the hotel I'm staying at."

Arthur made a disgruntled noise and got up. "See you in the morning," he said not even looking at her and giving a sloppy wave of the hand when he left the room.

He woke up on the couch with a stiff neck and a post-it note on his forehead. He peeled it off and read Gwen's neat and delicate script.

When I die, I hope you get assigned to my case.

On his coffee table was a steaming cup of tea.

A/N: Thanks always for reading and reviewing! Keep those suggestions coming! :D