Title: Merlin's Muses
Character/s: Arthur, Merlin
Summary: Merlin follows Arthur and Percy home
Word Count: 497
Prompt: 156 Intimidation
Author's Notes: This is a continuation of Inspiration which should be read first.
Percy pushed between Arthur and Merlin as soon as the door swung open and if Arthur wasn't quick witted enough to drop the lead he was sure he’d be face down on the hardwoods. “You’re a menace,” he said conversationally and Percy ignored him, making a beeline for a denim lump in the middle of the living room floor. He settled into the methodical destruction he had started before their walk.
“What’s that he’s tearing up?” Merlin asked.
“My jean jacket,” Arthur groused. “It’s going on the bill.”
“Shouldn’t you take it away from him? I’ve heard it reinforces bad habits to let a pet play with things you don’t want them to destroy.”
Arthur glanced at Percy and then back at Merlin with an incredulous look, “Would you try to take something away from him?”
Merlin watched Percy savagely tear the collar off the rag between his giant paws and shook his head. “I see your point. That bill is going to be a long one.”
“Sooo long,” Arthur agreed waving Merlin into the spacious flat. He admired the low slung black leather furniture and looked back over to Percy’s methodical rending of what was once a well constructed jacket. “Watching that, I’m worried for your furniture, too.”
“My sister will murder me if he kills that sofa. It was custom made to her exacting specifications,” Arthur said as he walked further into the flat, eyeing tabletops as he passed. “I know I saw the camera around here somewhere but it’s been a bit chaotic since I got the houseguest.”
Merlin joined Arthur on the quest, looking over bookshelves and stereo equipment, eyes stopping on what was once a brown dress shoe. “Is that…” he asked, pointing at the mangled, soleless thing.
“Yes. Yes it is. The magic dog somehow got into my hall closet and went to town with all manner of things. I tried to put him in the bathroom and, well, I no longer have a bath mat. He’s like the Tasmanian Devil in the cartoons.”
Merlin grinned, “I love him.”
Arthur laughed, “Me, too! Oh, I remember, I was using it in the bathroom.”
Merlin looked at him, a bit startled. “I don’t want to know.”
Arthur gave Merlin a little shoulder push, “I was thinking of repainting and asked my sister for some advice.” He strode off down a hallway and opened the first door he came to. “Yup, here it is.” Merlin had followed, curious to see more of the apartment.
The bathroom countertop, tiles, and wall paint were all white and the room was sparklingly clean except for the remains of a red bath mat that had been torn asunder, dotting the floor tile like fuzzy blood splatter. Arthur poked at it with his trainer. “On the bill,” he muttered.
Merlin laughed again, reaching for the digital camera in Arthur’s hand. “My muses just get more and more amusing.”
Arthur groaned at the terrible pun.