Title:Dr. Candyman and Father Christmas part 8.
Character/s: Morgana, Arthur, Merlin.
Summary: Having heard Arthur ramble about the cute doctor, Morgana decides he should take a bigger part in the Christmas gifts for the childrens ward charity.
Warnings: None in this. Some pining.
Word Count: ~410
Prompt: #195 Friendship
Inspired by a prompt at merlin_writers by krista_mae
Follow up to:
Dr.Candyman and Father Christmas Part 1
Dr.Candyman and Father Christmas Part 2
Dr.Candyman and Father Christmas Part 3
Dr.Candyman and Father Christmas Part 4
Dr.Candyman and Father Christmas Part 5
Dr.Candyman and Father Christmas Part 6
Dr.Candyman and Father Christmas Part 7
Lady Greyhall chuckled fondly at Arthur's toast. They both took a sip of champagne and shared a quick smile. “Go to him then,” she urged. Arthur shrugged. He wanted to, but in his mind he saw little Freya clutching her panther plushie. Merlin had more important things to see to first.
The lady clicked her tongue. “You've got it bad, Sonny.”
She waved a passing waiter over and swiped a fresh glass from his tray and handed it to Arthur.
“He's all out of champagne, now go be a good host.”
Merlin threw him a surprised glance as he came closer. The unspoken laws of light conversation and polite mingling allowed for Arthur to seamlessly swap places with Morgana and steal Merlin away.
Merlin accepted the offering of sparkling Champagne with a smile and a relieved sigh, but still simply taking a minuscule sip.
“I can get you something else if...”
“Oh no,” Merlin interrupted. “I'm afraid I'll keel over if I drink more. I'm dead on my feet.”
Arthur allowed himself to study Merlin's face with more than a fleeting glance.
He could see it now, as Merlin let the facade falter a bit. He felt a flutter of protectiveness.
“Yeah. Took the early shift so I could go play mannequin and pin cushion for your sister and her talented friends. They really put blood, sweat and tears into their work, some of it is mine. I am fairly certain she scares them on purpose. Keeps them on their toes, perhaps? ”
Arthur snorted a laugh at that, but the conversation is low and private.
“Well spotted. You look fantastic though.”
Merlin lights up, while Arthur cringes at himself. Way to be suave...
“Why thank you, you don't look too shabby yourself.”
Arthur makes a show out of straightening his bow-tie and tugging the sleeves of his jacket down. Merlin rewarded his effort with a quick appraising up and down look.
“Though, I bet you had to dress yourself, like some lowly peasant.”
Merlin sniffed, acting put off by the very idea.
They were heading towards the door, as in perfect agreement. Arthur couldn't tell who was leading and who followed.
“At least I didn't injure myself while dressing.”
They passed through the doorway unhindered and Arthur cheered on the inside. Something was going on here. Perhaps something more than friendship.
“I didn't injure myself either. I bled. For art.”
“My, how noble.”
“Quite so. Quite so.”