Title: Sprinkle in some Cosmic Sugar
Characters: Gwen, Arthur
Summary: If she has to dig into the dirty truth of Arthur Pendragon she will to save her ass.
Warnings: swearing, a little innuendo, AU
Word Count: 985
Author's Notes: Modern AU Future Science Fiction/Pre relationship
Sprinkle in some Cosmic Sugar
He is such a fucking tease.
That’s what they say in the gossip mags and what is plastered all over the net.
A well dressed man tells her, “Alright, his Excellency is ready now.”
She rolls her eyes inwardly. King Arthur is basically a decoration of the intergalactic planet of Camelot. He serves for esthetic purpose. Well she is determined to get more. Her boss is threatening to kick her out the door after not getting all the juiciness he wanted about Avalon’s magical sisters, a trio of women who are like philanthropic angels. Her boss wanted the scandal about one of them having an affair with President Morgause’s husband, Tristan Rethold. She refused.
But if now she has to dig into the dirty truth of Arthur Pendragon she will to save her ass. He likes to tease, well she can tease back.
Going into the vast room that her whole apartment could fit in, filled with so much crystalline glass ware she is afraid if she turns in the wrong direction she will break something of priceless value, she suddenly feels a strong hand upon her shoulder. “On your knees for his Excellency.”
She is forced downward. “Sorry. Sire.”
When she dares looking up she sees a teasing curve of his lips and the most blue sky ocean eyes she’s ever been met with.
“Easy Mitchell. She’s a guest. Tell the kitchen to bring us some refreshments.”
Those earth ocean eyes turn back to her. Camelot’s oceans are more white and clear than blue.
“What will the lady be having?”
She’s still on her knees. The king grimaces, grasping her arm to help her up. When she is standing, he smiles with approval. “Better. Now…”
Too friendly. Too charming. But she’s ready. Determined. The economy sucks lately. She wants to keep her job. “I’m not thirsty.”
Mitchell’s cheeks rage red. Gwen amends her answer. “Uh, just some white tea, sprinkled with a touch of cosmic sugar.”
He smiles at that. “And some hypersonic sweet powder?”
Alcoholic stimulant? She shakes her head. “No thank you.”
Mitchell looks ready to grab her head and squeeze it. She shirks away some. Arthur just chortles quietly, telling Mitchell, “Usual for me.”
The man leaves in a rush. Gwen surveys the room, white cushioning chairs and sofas, and stark black tables. The walls are even white, but the picture frames ebony. It’s like a bachelor’s pad if anything. “Thank you for seeing me Sire and agreeing to this interview.”
He simply shrugs, gesturing forward, “Please.”
Gwen sits down upon a chair across from him as the drinks are brought in. She notes how he has wine all the way from Escetia. “Very international.” She remarks.
Arthur lifts his crystalline glass in toast. “I like the best. May you get all you desire from me. And all that I desire to give you.”
It’s teasing. Smartly wicked for one counters the other. “Well Sire, if you don’t mind me getting right to the chase…”
He shrugs. “Please do.”
“You must see it. How with presidents of the planet for over a dozen years now, your office is no more than…”
He sits forward, looking intently into her eyes. “Window dressing? Are you sure about that?”
She clears her throat. “The president has much more power than you.”
“Does she?” Arthur asks, finger coiling lazily around the rim of his glass. And then an explosion of information.
“Your names is Guinevere Leogrance, but you prefer Gwen. You live in the topmost of the apartments at Hycynthiath Way. You’re days from being fired from your job at Channel 5907 and so you came here to interview a man you mostly despise for being such a ‘gigolo’ to women, but no matter. You can use me to get your job back in order. I may have missed a few details, but I’d say that’s pretty much it, right…Guinevere?”
She gapes, dropping her glass. Arthur peers downward, calling out a command. “Sanitation monitor, clean up the mess please.” A robotic mechanism moves toward them, quickly sweeping up everything before excusing itself.
Gwen tries to get her composure back, straightening out her lavender skirt. “If you knew all that about me Sire why did you even agree to this?”
“Because I wanted to see how forward you would be. You see Guinevere most reporters come in here and give in to me right away. They ask the silly questions like why did I color this room this way and how many leather jackets do I have, or they give me weakened platitudes that make my sugar level go up to disgusting heights. But you got right to the gist of what I wanted to talk about.”
“What do you mean?”
“The affair was real. But unfortunate, and you were right to not drag the sisters of Avalon through the mud. But you are wrong about the president and that’s why my power is still so important. As king I plan to save this planet.”
“And the rumors?”
He shrugs. “All rumors. Until maybe now. That is if you’d like to get to know each other better.”
She frowns strongly at that. And he catches her hand. “A jest Guinevere. I hope you don’t mind me calling you that.”
“You’re a king. You could probably call me anything you want.”
He smiles. “True.” He lifts her hand to get her to stand with him. “Want me to show you something secret?”
“If you drop your pants I will scream and inflict bodily harm.”
He laughs at that, whispering in her ear. “Trust me. This will be almost as good.”
She cautiously goes with him to the wall. It suddenly opens up and she realizes that this story about the king, meant to save her job, is actually the story of her planet’s future. “Oh crap cosmosis.”
His hand finds her waist. “My same thought when I first saw it. See…
I’m more than just a ‘fucking’ tease. I’m Camelot’s saving.”