7. "Are we planning to give our friends alcohol poisoning?" Gwen asks when Morgana returns from the supermarket with enough alcohol to float a battleship.
"Only if the situation gets desperate," says Morgana, unpacking two bottles of that extremely expensive vodka she favours, which Gwen has never understood because all vodka, no matter how expensive, tastes of nothing more than burning sensation to her.
"We're only going to have another flat warming when we get our new place."
For the moment Gwen is moving in with Morgana; there's more space, it's not a much longer journey to the garage in the mornings, and it's postponing the inevitable squabble about where they're going to live, how much it should cost, and who's paying for what.
"Yes," Morgana flashes Gwen one of her trademark diabolical smiles. "But it'll be a much smaller party because some of them may have died. By the way, there's a crate of beer in the car."
Of course there is, thinks Gwen.
*
Gwen's friends and Morgana's having bonded over the shared trauma of moving boxes of Gwen's stuff clear across London through Saturday morning rush hour, the party goes much better than expected.
Arthur is thinking of getting a new car and actually seeks Gwen out to ask her opinion, and Leon attaches himself to the conversation and tells Gwen that he finds her opinions on semi-automatic transmission "quite sensible."
Crouched on the floor by their feet Freya is examining Morgana's bookcases, which contain all the volumes to be expected of someone who read English at Cambridge. But Gwen happens to know that the books Morgana actually reads are in a box under her bed, tragic lesbian romances and the Game of Thrones books, mostly.
Gwen excuses herself and goes to the kitchen to get a fresh glass of wine, she shares an amused look with Freya as she goes; both of them have spent enough time with Merlin and Will to recognise the sound of boys pretending to know about cars.
She spares a sideways glance for Merlin and Owain, doing shots with what Gwen is fairly sure is Morgana's 25 year old single malt, and brushes her fingers over Morgana's wrist when she passes her girlfriend arguing about Margaret Thatcher with Will. Gwen smiles at that, because she knows that Morgana hates Thatcher as much as anyone else with two brain cells to rub together, she just pretends to be a fan to wind up Will.
*
In the kitchen Morgause is mixing herself a white russian, of all things. "I should apologise," she tells Gwen.
"Um."
Until now Gwen could have counted every word Morgause had addressed to her and still had fingers left over.
"I had assumed this relationship was Morgana's idea of a joke, but no, she says it's serious."
"You thought Morgana was going out with me for a joke?"
"Admittedly, I wasn't sure what the punch-line was going to be."
Finishing her drink Morgause left Gwen alone, obviously considering the subject closed.
*
Gwen has retreated to Morgana's bedroom - her bedroom too, now - to catch her breath and clear her head. There are boxes everywhere in here. Mostly, Morgana's been surprisingly considerate in making space for Gwen, but fitting Gwen, Morgana and all of Morgana's clothes into the bedroom is proving a challenge.
Gwen smiles when the door creaks open and Morgana slips inside.
"I thought you were arguing politics with Will?"
Morgana sets her glass on the sideboard, steps gracefully over a box and joins Gwen on the bed.
"I thought we'd best stop when we found ourselves acting out a scene from Monty Python and the Holy Grail."
"What scene?"
"Watery tarts distributing swords is no basis for a system of government," Morgana quotes in a truly dreadful English accent, and Gwen bumps her shoulder against Morgana's affectionately.
"Won't we be missed out there?"
"I doubt it. Morgause has joined in the drinking game. It will be sad for Freya when Merlin dies, and of course I shall miss Owain, but it should keep everyone entertained."
Morgana tips her head forward and drags her teeth along Gwen's collarbone, pushing her skirt up her thigh.
"Oh. Oh. Morgana if someone comes in--"
"They won't."
"But if they do--"
"We return to Plan A, giving them alcohol poisoning."
"Well," Gwen pulls Morgana down onto the mattress, "as long as we've thought this through."
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branchandroot
no subject
Date: 2011-10-30 01:36 am (UTC)7.
"Are we planning to give our friends alcohol poisoning?" Gwen asks when Morgana returns from the supermarket with enough alcohol to float a battleship.
"Only if the situation gets desperate," says Morgana, unpacking two bottles of that extremely expensive vodka she favours, which Gwen has never understood because all vodka, no matter how expensive, tastes of nothing more than burning sensation to her.
"We're only going to have another flat warming when we get our new place."
For the moment Gwen is moving in with Morgana; there's more space, it's not a much longer journey to the garage in the mornings, and it's postponing the inevitable squabble about where they're going to live, how much it should cost, and who's paying for what.
"Yes," Morgana flashes Gwen one of her trademark diabolical smiles. "But it'll be a much smaller party because some of them may have died. By the way, there's a crate of beer in the car."
Of course there is, thinks Gwen.
*
Gwen's friends and Morgana's having bonded over the shared trauma of moving boxes of Gwen's stuff clear across London through Saturday morning rush hour, the party goes much better than expected.
Arthur is thinking of getting a new car and actually seeks Gwen out to ask her opinion, and Leon attaches himself to the conversation and tells Gwen that he finds her opinions on semi-automatic transmission "quite sensible."
Crouched on the floor by their feet Freya is examining Morgana's bookcases, which contain all the volumes to be expected of someone who read English at Cambridge. But Gwen happens to know that the books Morgana actually reads are in a box under her bed, tragic lesbian romances and the Game of Thrones books, mostly.
Gwen excuses herself and goes to the kitchen to get a fresh glass of wine, she shares an amused look with Freya as she goes; both of them have spent enough time with Merlin and Will to recognise the sound of boys pretending to know about cars.
She spares a sideways glance for Merlin and Owain, doing shots with what Gwen is fairly sure is Morgana's 25 year old single malt, and brushes her fingers over Morgana's wrist when she passes her girlfriend arguing about Margaret Thatcher with Will. Gwen smiles at that, because she knows that Morgana hates Thatcher as much as anyone else with two brain cells to rub together, she just pretends to be a fan to wind up Will.
*
In the kitchen Morgause is mixing herself a white russian, of all things. "I should apologise," she tells Gwen.
"Um."
Until now Gwen could have counted every word Morgause had addressed to her and still had fingers left over.
"I had assumed this relationship was Morgana's idea of a joke, but no, she says it's serious."
"You thought Morgana was going out with me for a joke?"
"Admittedly, I wasn't sure what the punch-line was going to be."
Finishing her drink Morgause left Gwen alone, obviously considering the subject closed.
*
Gwen has retreated to Morgana's bedroom - her bedroom too, now - to catch her breath and clear her head. There are boxes everywhere in here. Mostly, Morgana's been surprisingly considerate in making space for Gwen, but fitting Gwen, Morgana and all of Morgana's clothes into the bedroom is proving a challenge.
Gwen smiles when the door creaks open and Morgana slips inside.
"I thought you were arguing politics with Will?"
Morgana sets her glass on the sideboard, steps gracefully over a box and joins Gwen on the bed.
"I thought we'd best stop when we found ourselves acting out a scene from Monty Python and the Holy Grail."
"What scene?"
"Watery tarts distributing swords is no basis for a system of government," Morgana quotes in a truly dreadful English accent, and Gwen bumps her shoulder against Morgana's affectionately.
"Won't we be missed out there?"
"I doubt it. Morgause has joined in the drinking game. It will be sad for Freya when Merlin dies, and of course I shall miss Owain, but it should keep everyone entertained."
Morgana tips her head forward and drags her teeth along Gwen's collarbone, pushing her skirt up her thigh.
"Oh. Oh. Morgana if someone comes in--"
"They won't."
"But if they do--"
"We return to Plan A, giving them alcohol poisoning."
"Well," Gwen pulls Morgana down onto the mattress, "as long as we've thought this through."