clarahowTitle: Santa Baby
Rating: T
Pairing/s: Gwen/Morgana, Arthur/Merlin
Character/s: just the fab four
Summary: Their plans fall through.
Warnings: some language
Word Count: 500w
Prompt: #186: Domestic
Author's Note: Modern AU.
The concert is a bust - cancelled because of the snowstorm. They hear of it just in time, only moments before the four of them have started to get ready to set out on their journey from the flat she and Gwen share.
In all honesty, Morgana’s grateful to be staying home; though the snow rarely gets quite bad enough for anything to actually be cancelled, it does look treacherous outside, even just from the windows in the living room, which generally provide a pretty optimistic look down on the streets of the city.
Arthur insists on being the one to set the fire in the fireplace, and considering that the task’s made harder by her lack of a working lighter, she easily concedes responsibility. Eventually and clumsily, Arthur manages a fire. As Merlin mocks his boyfriend for the fifteen or so minutes it took him, Morgana takes inventory on her alcohol stock, which she surmises is enough to hold the four of them for the weekend if it has to - besides, there was always the boys’ apartment to resort to. On second thought, she checks out how much food they have, too, and they should be covered on both fronts.
Backing out of the pantry, Morgana jumps and shrieks at some sudden movement at her side, only to find that it’s Merlin. He holds himself back from laughing at her - barely - but grows more sober at her glare.
“Gonna make us all some hot cocoa, Ice Queen,” he explains, and she rolls her eyes at the nickname while thinking that hot cocoa is a damn good idea.
“Make some with whiskey, too, willya?”
“Morgana, I’ve known you since you were a kid. I can anticipate your preferences.”
“Well, apparently you still don’t know not to sneak up on me, so I’m being thorough,” she half-heartedly sneers, and he repeats a bit of it back - under his breath, with a groan. She growls playfully before letting him past her into the pantry and heading back through the kitchen to the living room.
Arthur and Gwen have taken one couch each and lounged back on them - Arthur, admiring his handiwork in the fireplace, and Gwen, looking at her phone, most likely reading. Seeing Morgana coming closer, Gwen swivels so that she’s sitting up properly, leaning into the arm of her couch closest to the fire, and holding her arm up to let Morgana snuggle up to her by laying down on the couch and leaning her head onto Gwen’s lap.
Some clattering comes from the general area of the kitchen, and Morgana sighs. Oh, Merlin…
“I’m okay!” he shouts from the pantry. Morgana turns so she’s looking up at the ceiling for a moment.
“Is my whiskey okay?”
“Fuck you, Morgana.”
“Brother dearest, go help your boyfriend not destroy my apartment, please,” she grins over at Arthur, who gives her a petulant sort of look before making a dramatic show of shoving off his blankets and going into the kitchen.