Archive of Our Own ^beta

The day had finally arrived. Ygraine’s was open for business once more.

The bookshop had been closed for months while Arthur had it refurbished ready for the reopening. It had been his mother’s shop and would always carry her name. But in the past few years it had been left mostly to Ygraine’s staff to run, and since the manager left at the beginning of Summer the shop had been closed.

It hadn’t been a surprise. Mithian, the ex-manager, had stayed on far longer than expected out of loyalty to Ygraine. But when Ygraine’s illness had reached its conclusion, Mithian finally felt she could take up a post in a major national bookstore chain.

“At least there isn’t a branch in Camelot,” she’d told Arthur kindly. “I’d never want to work in competition with you. Anyway, I’ve left you Ellie. She’ll be brilliant.”

Elena, first Ygraine’s then Mithian’s and now Arthur’s assistant wasn’t exactly brilliant but she was kind and sweet and Arthur knew his mother would never have forgiven him if he’d let her go. No matter how many times Elena mis-shelved new books or tripped over the front step or pressed the wrong key on the till…

At least Leon, his other full-time assistant, was steady and reliable. Perhaps too steady and reliable sometimes (Arthur would never call his friend boring, but…). Leon tended to work in the basement though. Arthur could trust him with that. He was always a little worried about leaving Elena by herself for long. It wasn’t that she’d mean to cock things up but disaster did tend to follow her around. And Arthur wanted the bookshop to be a success.

Ygraine Pendragon had loved that bookshop. It was where she’d met her husband Uther, a then newly-divorced single father looking for a last minute Christmas present for his daughter. Ygraine had gently guided him around the pre-school section and the rest was history. Even the daughter, Morgana, would always agree that the best gift she’d received for any Christmas was her new mum. The annoying little brother a couple of years later perhaps wasn’t so well-received but Morgana had just about learned to live with him.

Uther had bought the bookshop as a gift for his wife when the previous owners wanted to retire. And after that it was Ygraine’s, both in name and on the deeds.

Now it was Arthur’s. Morgana was busy following in their father’s footsteps, managing Pendragon & Gorlois since Uther had stepped down to look after his sick wife, so she had no interest in the bookshop. Arthur, likewise, had no interest in studying law or working in the firm. It just wasn’t for him. Besides, his mother had always instilled a love of books and reading, and his studies had reflected that.

Perhaps if he’d grown up only with Uther things would have been different. Uther Pendragon was a world-renowned QC, who almost never lost a case and could command exorbitant fees because he was so sought after. Morgana was a younger version of their fiery father, fearsome in the courtroom, building her own reputation in the legal world. She loved the fight, loved to win. Arthur loved to lose himself in books. It probably wasn’t how Uther had expected him to turn out, but Ygraine had been determined that both children should go their own way and be happy. And because the only person that Uther deferred to was his beloved wife, that was exactly what happened.

“It’s almost time!” Elena squealed happily, bouncing on her toes and clapping her hands together.

Arthur eyed the hospitality table warily. Wine and books went together nicely in many situations, but not when Elena was around. He hoped he wasn’t going to regret letting her take charge of serving drinks to their customers. At least there were none of the more expensive books anywhere near her. Although the till was right there, plugged into the mains. She probably wouldn’t accidently set the shop on fire. Probably.

“I’ll be careful,” she assured him, as if she were reading his mind.

“Just don’t electrocute yourself or anything,” he warned.

“As if!” Elena grinned. Then she nodded towards the door. “Look, your sister’s here.”

Morgana Pendragon was standing outside the shop, waiting impatiently for Arthur to unlock the door. He considered leaving her there, but it was opening time so he slid back the bolts and pushed the door open. There wasn’t a promising surge of customers, but it was early. Plenty of time.

Morgana, of course, had turned up vastly over-dressed for the occasion. Arthur had no idea how she could even stand up in those shoes, let alone actually walk. And as for the shimmering green evening dress…

“It’s not a particularly grand re-opening,” Arthur warned as she walked in. “You’re not going to get the press and red carpet experience.”

Morgana just waved his comments aside, heading straight for the little table near the till that had bottles of wine laid out.

“Those are for the customers,” Arthur called.

“I’m a customer,” Morgana told him. “Elena, I’ll have the red please.”

Elena giggled and opened the nearest bottle.

“It’s 9am,” Arthur pointed out.

“And you’re offering free wine,” Morgana replied. “Sounds good to me!” She took the glass of wine from Elena, sipped it, then paused for a moment to consider it. “Hmm… a light-bodied number with a hint of chocolate, easy on the palate. Vintage is… from the Tesco down the road, yes?”

“Sainsbury’s, actually.” But Morgana was right in her assumption that it wasn’t expensive. What did she expect, Arthur wondered? Elena was probably going to spill half of it on the floor anyway.

“Is the white one any better?” Morgana wondered.

Elena moved to open one of the bottles of white, but Arthur stopped her.

“Save it for the official opening at eleven,” he advised. “Or, you know, for actual customers!”

“Having me in here will encourage custom,” Morgana argued. “People walk past empty shops. They know that if they go inside then the bored shopkeeper is going to be watching them like a hawk. Or, worse, try to sell them something. Whereas if there’s already someone inside then it’s safe to come in.”

That was true, but Arthur wasn’t going to admit it. “Seeing someone who looks as if she should be propping up a cocktail bar isn’t going to encourage people to come in.”

“I’ll say I’ve come in book-themed costume. I’m Holly Golightly from Breakfast at Tiffany’s.”

“You don’t have a cat. And it isn’t World Book Day, Morgana. We don’t have to dress up.”

“Mum would have told me to be myself. And this is me, being myself,” Morgana declared.

There wasn’t a lot Arthur could say to that. It was true. Ygraine Pendragon had fiercely championed her son and adopted daughter’s right to grow as individuals. Morgana had followed in their father’s footsteps and was a force to be reckoned with, whilst Arthur had inherited his mother’s love of books, and particularly of that little bookstore where she’d spent so many happy days.

“I’m not going to argue.”

“That’s because you know you wouldn’t win!” Morgana replied smugly.

Arthur had learned that much years earlier. His father had enjoyed lively debates with Morgana over the years but they felt far too much like arguments to Arthur. He liked a quiet, peaceful life. And that was why he was about to start running a bookshop rather than going into the cutthroat legal world.

“Just don’t get drunk and scare all the customers off,” Arthur requested.

Morgana looked around. “There aren’t any.”

“Well I’ve only just opened the door!” Arthur replied. “Why don’t you go and make yourself useful? You could get us all coffees.”

“I could do that,” Elena offered.

Morgana sat down on one of the chairs that were dotted around the shop. “Thank you. Mine’s a triple espresso.”

Morgana pretty much lived on coffee. Particularly when there was a difficult case. She claimed high levels of caffeine were the secret to her success but Arthur thought it was just Pendragon bull-headedness.

“So, I’ve had the shop open less than five minutes and you’ve already sent my staff on your errands,” Arthur noted.

Morgana shrugged. “Better now than later when you’re busy. Ooh, look! There’s your first customer!”

A young, curly-haired woman with a sweet, kind-looking face had walked in and was standing just inside the doorway looking around at the shop.

Arthur made his way over to her, giving what he hoped was a friendly smile. “Good morning. Welcome to Ygraine’s. Are you looking for anything in particular?”

“It’ll be a book, Arthur,” Morgana muttered, but Arthur ignored her.

The woman smiled back at him. “No, I just wanted to see the new shop. It looks good. Are you the new owner?”

“Sort of. Ygraine was my mother, I’ve taken over.”

“Oh. I’m sorry,” the woman’s smile faded. “Ygraine was lovely. All through my college and uni days she was so helpful. I hope you’ve kept the sci-fi and fantasy section?”

“You studied sci-fi and fantasy?” Arthur thought that sounded interesting. You could study anything if you went to the right place, so why not?

“Oh no, I did Business Studies. I read for relaxation, to take my mind off my studies for a while. Ygraine used to give me recommendations.”

“You’re Gwen, aren’t you?” Arthur guessed. He’d heard about an enthusiastic young student for whom his mother would put particular books aside. The woman in front of him fitted his imagined version of her. “You ended up running the fantasy book club?”

Gwen smiled, nodding. “Yes. We’ve kept going, even though we couldn’t use the shop while it was closed. Are you going to start up the regular reading groups again?”

“I hope to. Perhaps we could start with the fantasy one as that’s still going? And… am I right in thinking you make delicious cakes for the group and that’s why it was so well-attended?”

“I bake a little,” Gwen admitted. “Not as much as my brother does, he’s the expert. I always bring cakes to the group, though.”

Arthur had heard about Gwen’s amazing bakes from his mother. “I look forward to trying some. Well, we’ve got a few writer talks lined up too. There’s a noticeboard over there, and of course everything is on the website.” He pointed to the board, currently almost bare, on a wall halfway down the shop. “Obviously we’re hoping there’s going to be a lot more on it soon.”

“Perfect. Well we normally meet at eight on the last Thursday of the month. Ygraine used to let us use the café area.”

“Then let’s do that. The café isn’t quite up and running yet but we can plug in a kettle. Final Thursdays will be sci fi and fantasy night. Give me the details and I’ll advertise.”

It was one regular event in the diary anyway, Arthur thought as Gwen scribbled down the information for him. Arthur hoped that others would follow. His mother had always claimed that reading groups were great for sales. And he really wanted the shop to be a success, not just as a tribute to her but also so for himself. He’d always loved that shop and working in there was a dream.

Everything was still clean and fresh from the refurbishment as well. The entire shop was filled with the scent of the new wood from the bookshelves throughout the place. He’d replaced the railings around the balcony above the main floor. On the ground floor and in the basement, he’d added in wheeled ladders on rails to every bookcase so that he could make better use of the higher shelves and bring in more stock. Wall to ceiling books. It was a reader’s paradise.

The small café at the rear had been refurbished as well, but it needed someone to run it. He certainly wasn’t going to entrust it to Elena, it was risky enough having her deal with the wine.

Gwen handed over the book club details, and then wandered off to look around the store. Another customer came in. It wasn’t exactly a rush, but it stopped the place from looking completely empty and unwelcoming.

To his horror, Arthur saw Morgana go over to speak to Gwen, half-empty glass in hand. Morgana wouldn’t be drunk, not yet, but she still might say absolutely anything and scare Gwen off. As Gwen was Arthur’s first genuinely interested customer, he wanted to keep her.

But as he started to head over to them, Elena tapped him on the arm.

“Is that your dad outside?”

Arthur looked. Sure enough Uther Pendragon was standing outside the shop, looking up at the new sign.

Arthur bit his lip worriedly. The grand re-opening was a bittersweet event for Arthur, and he knew it was likely to be hard on his father. Uther had shown no interest in any of the work on the shop, had just allowed Arthur to get on with it. The place had been empty for many months, and not really well kept up prior to that, so there had been a great deal to do.

Arthur had not expected to see his father there that day. His beloved wife’s death had hit him hard and seeing the bookshop open without her there was probably going to make it worse.

Abandoning Gwen to the mercies of Morgana, Arthur headed out onto the street.

“Dad?”

His father had aged in the past year, Arthur thought. It wasn’t surprising, but in the cold light of day the difference was striking. In the old days Uther would turn up fresh from court, high on his latest triumph, and sweep his wife off to celebrate as soon as she could get away. Arthur remembered those times as a child and then later as a teenager helping out in the shop. Uther would be sent to sit out in the café garden, out of the way. The fearsome lawyer was just handed a book and a coffee and told to get out from under Ygraine’s feet. And Uther had laughed and obeyed.

His parents had been so stupidly in love, so happy together. His mother had softened his father’s tendency to let work take over, and his father had ensured that his mother didn’t get too carried away with any fanciful schemes for the shop that would have ended up bankrupting it.

Arthur longed for nothing more than to find someone himself that was as much of a perfect fit. Or simply someone who loved him unconditionally.

So far there hadn’t really been anyone special. Boyfriends had come and gone, and then in the past year there hadn’t been much time for socialising, not with what had been going on at home. But Arthur had hopes. Perhaps some famous writer would come in and sweep him off his feet.

Instead there was his father, turning to smile sadly at him.

“I couldn’t miss your grand opening, Arthur. You’ve done a wonderful job.”

It was the Ygraine Pendragon list at work, Arthur knew. She’d left instructions for Uther, as the lone parent, reminding him to always support Arthur and Morgana in everything they did, and to give them twice as much praise because she wasn’t there to give her half. Arthur had found the sheet one day by accident, left on Uther’s desk at home. Suggestions of ways to keep the family together, a lengthy hand-written piece that looked so dog-eared that his father must have read it over and over.

Grief was a horrible thing.

“Thank you,” Arthur replied carefully. “I think Mum would have been pleased with what we’ve done.”

“Yes,” Uther looked up at the sign again. “I think she would. So,” there was that sad smile again, “show me around. Let’s see the future.”

And so Arthur did.

---

It wasn’t easy being successful, famous and lusted after by millions of people.

When Merlin had taken up his place at drama school and dreamed of success, his current lifestyle was not what he had envisaged. Merlin had envisaged taking on worthy roles that would stay long in the minds of audiences. He’d fantasised about perhaps one day stepping out on the stage at Stratford, or maybe the Globe. And he’d dreamed about at some point at least getting a nomination for a BAFTA or Stage award.

None of this was likely to happen in the near future. Merlin was successful, famous and lusted after because Merlin was mild mannered scientist Clifton Parkes whose superhero alter ego was The Cat. Or, more accurately, Jace Storm was The Cat, because that was what it said on all the film posters. It was also what it said on Merlin’s Equity and Spotlight memberships. Jace Storm. Not Merlin Emrys because according to Cenred King, Merlin’s agent, that name wasn’t memorable enough.

It was odd, because Merlin had spent many of his formative years being teased about his memorably magical name, and had spent quite a bit of time hating it. Then, just as his favourite drama teacher had persuaded him that it would look great on theatre billboards and he’d decided he liked it after all, suddenly he wasn’t allowed to use it.

A double decker bus trundled past with an advert for The Cat III emblazoned along the side with claw marks through it. Merlin’s own eyes were up there on the poster next to the lettering, covered with those ridiculous green contact lenses that he had to wear for the films.

Jace Storm did not sound like the sort of actor who would be treading the boards at the RSC or the Globe or any other theatre of renown. Jace Storm would probably make about ten more Cat movies, each one slightly worse than its predecessor, and then spend the rest of his career typecast.

Who was he kidding? After three Cat movies he was probably already typecast. Merlin’s dreams of one day playing Hamlet were fated to remain just that – dreams.

He glanced into the window of a shop he was passing. The display was a mixture of brightly-coloured shoes, all set up on stands at different heights, with stripes of lurid colour painted on the walls behind. It was almost garish. He stopped for a moment to look properly. It was a mistake, there was a sales assistant looking back at him from the other side of the display. He could see her expression as she tried to work out why he looked so familiar.

Merlin quickly moved on before the penny dropped and she got her phone out for a snap. The last thing he wanted was a photo all over social media of him looking at some strange footwear display. Who knew what people would make of it? He’d long since given up trying to understand the mentality of one or two of the people who enjoyed his movies.

The premiere of The Cat III was only a few days away. Merlin was dreading it. He was contractually obliged to attend, and Cenred would be livid if he didn’t. But red carpet events weren’t really Merlin’s thing. He wouldn’t have minded so much if it had been the opening of a play or something, where he was surrounded by his cast mates and didn’t have cameras pointed at him all the time. The Cat was a solo superhero, and although there would be guest stars attending the premiere it wasn’t the same. Even the character’s love interest changed with every film. The latest one, Vivien Olaf, was an unbearably spoiled starlet who had flirted with Merlin for the first couple of days. Then she’d realised he was never going to be interested and promptly ignored him. It had made for a fun set.

So Vivien would be absolutely loving the red carpet, and he supposed she would be draping herself all over him as soon as he arrived. And then there would be all the usual rumours in the papers, not that Merlin ever read those.

And, worst of all, he’d have to sit through two hours of staring at his own face on the screen. Wonderful.

“Oh my God!”

There were two teenage girls on the other side of the street, clutching each other and squealing loudly.

“It’s JACE STORM!”

Great.

Merlin pulled his baseball cap down lower over his face and hurried on, hoping that he could escape before they got across the road. He could hear the screeching of brakes and blaring of horns behind him, and walked as fast as he possibly could without actually running.

Sunglasses… he patted his pockets, hoping they were there. It was an essential disguise that he rarely left home without. That scruffy auburn wig his friend Lance Du Lac always swore by was looking more sensible by the moment. Even though Lance looked ridiculous in it, people were less likely to recognise him.

Quickly, Merlin slipped the glasses on and dived down a side street. It was quieter, lined with offices and residences. He hid in a doorway and waited. Sure enough, a moment or two later he saw (and heard) the two girls rushing past excitedly, still on the main street. He felt bad for them, but no doubt they’d already snapped a few pictures of his retreating figure.

Lance was an absolute pro at keeping himself hidden. Merlin blessed the fact that Lance had been cast as his best friend in the first two Cat movies – that friendship had spilled over into real life. One of his top tips (Lance was drop-dead gorgeous and had many, many disguise tips) was the old reversible jacket trick. Assuming that pictures had already been taken of him in a dark blue jacket and would be circulating on the internet shortly, Merlin swiftly removed his jacket, turned it inside out, and suddenly was wearing a khaki jacket instead. It might not have been the most stylish thing in his wardrobe, but it served its purpose well. Likewise the baseball cap reversed and turned from white to blue, so now anyone looking for a man in a blue jacket with a white cap was hopefully going to be misled. At least from a distance.

Merlin waited a few minutes, pretending to be checking his phone. There wasn’t anything on social media yet, but that probably wouldn’t take long. Sure enough, just as he was about to put his phone back into his pocket, it beeped with an alert.

It probably wasn’t going to be worth him even attempting to continue his little shopping trip, despite the disguise. All he’d wanted was a birthday gift for his uncle. Merlin was sick of ordering everything online. Just for once he had wanted to browse an actual shop and pick something out. But that was out of the question now.

Sighing, Merlin put his phone back into his pocket and headed back onto the main street. With his sunglasses and his cap pulled down low he hoped he could at least make it back to the car park before a newspaper photographer turned up.

He’d reckoned without the woman in the shoe shop. She was there outside as he approached, talking to a man with a camera. Sometimes Merlin wondered just how the paparazzi got there so fast. Quickly he turned around and headed up the high street instead, opting to take the long way round to the car park rather than risk walking past the reporter.

Sometimes he wondered if it would be easier just to sign the autographs and pose for the pictures like his other actor friend Gwaine always did. Gwaine was the opposite of Lance and Merlin, outgoing and sociable, lapping up the attention. But Merlin had tried that and all that had happened was for a crowd to gather, all wanting selfies and autographs. It had been a bit terrifying, if he was honest. He certainly wasn’t going to try it again.

His phone beeped again. With a sinking feeling, Merlin looked at it. There was another photo from just a few minutes earlier, further up the street. At least he was still in the blue jacket and white cap.

Merlin walked faster.

---

The bookshop opening was going well.

There had been a steady stream of customers all through the morning. Some were regulars who were pleased to see the shop reopen. A few remembered Arthur’s mother and offered a few kind words. Others were new, passing by. And a few probably dropped in to take up the offer of free wine.

Whatever, the shop looked alive and popular. Morgana was quite right about people not wanting to go into an empty shop.

Morgana had headed off to the non-operational café with Gwen and one of the bottles of wine. Arthur was fairly sure that they hadn’t met before but they appeared to have become instant friends.

Arthur loved his sister dearly but he hoped this new friendship wouldn’t mean that Morgana was going to start turning up at the meetings of the new book club. Then he remembered that Morgana would need to actually read an entire novel if she wanted to take part, and felt confident that there was no chance.

Elena had gone for coffee. They really needed to get the little café operational as soon as possible, Arthur thought. At least then his assistant wouldn’t vanish for twenty minutes. He could see her crossing the road, the two reusable cups in her hands. The lids were on, but that wasn’t stopping Elena sloshing the drinks around.

Arthur sighed, wondering just how much was going to be left in his cup by the time she handed it over. Elena was more interested in what was going on in the street outside, doing a 360 degree turn when she reached the pavement, obviously looking for something. Finally she came back into the shop.

“Arthur!” Elena exclaimed, the coffees waving dangerously in her hands. “You’ll never guess who’s been seen outside!”

Arthur carefully took both the coffee cups out of her hands and set them down safely on the counter. They were less likely to spray the merchandise there. “Perhaps you’d better tell me. As I’ll apparently never guess.”

“It’s Jace Storm!”

Jace Storm sounded like someone who should be dressed up in primary coloured lycra and leaping from tall buildings. Or perhaps one of those awful people who thought that talking fast along to a bass beat was actually music.

“Wonderful. I’m beyond excited.”

Elena eyed him suspiciously. “You don’t know who Jace Storm is, do you?”

Arthur pushed back his glasses, smiling because he not only didn’t know but also really didn’t care who they were. “No.”

“Oh my God! Jace Storm is only the hottest actor you ever saw! And he’s been spotted just down the road! Arthur, he might come in! Oh, I need to fix my make up!”

“Elena,” Arthur handed her the coffee cup with ‘E’ on it, assuming it was her triple shot skinny latte with extra cream, “why don’t you take your break now? Go and sit outside, see if you can spot this Ace Hurricane person.”

“Really?” Elena beamed at him. “You’re the best, Arthur!”

Arthur knew he wasn’t going to get any work out of her until the actor person was definitely gone, so it wasn’t exactly a hardship. Besides, he didn’t think his eardrums could stand the shrieking if Elena actually spotted the object of her desire. And it probably wouldn’t be good for business if passers-by heard screams coming from the bookshop.

At least someone with a ridiculous and clearly made up name like that was never going to come into the bookshop itself, Arthur thought.

He did a quick trip around the floor, collecting a few spent wine glasses and straightening up the displays, then hurried back to the till when a customer looked as if they might be about to spend some money.

“Tales of Albion Past, very good choice, Madam. Would you like a bag?”

Out of the corner of his eye Arthur could see someone coming into the shop. As he rang up the sale, Arthur glanced over at them. It was a man, face and hair mostly covered, head down. He couldn’t have looked more furtive if he’d tried.

It was typical that he had to be alone on the floor when their first shoplifter came in, Arthur thought. He wondered whether anyone was in the basement? Perhaps he could call Leon up for a few minutes? Or perhaps Morgana could actually make herself useful rather than sitting out back drinking all the free wine with her new friend?

“Please come again,” Arthur told his customer cheerfully. “We’ve completely relaunched in our new premises. If you sign up to our mailing list you’ll be notified of all the upcoming events. I’ve put a promotional bookmark in the bag with all the details. Have a great day!”

The woman thanked him and left. Most likely the bookmark would end up in her recycling box, but at least Arthur had tried, he thought. And then he was free to deal with the potential shoplifter.

“Are you looking for anything in particular, Sir?” Arthur asked, coming up behind the man. “Perhaps I can help you?”

The man jumped, startled. He looked guilty, which confirmed Arthur’s suspicions really. Who wore sunglasses inside a shop? There was no guide dog or white stick, so the only other likely reason was that they didn’t want to be recognised on any CCTV.

Arthur did have CCTV fitted but most of the cameras were in the little alcoves or the basement, being the places that people were more likely to think that they were alone and could take the opportunity to help themselves. There was only one on the main shop floor. In retrospect perhaps that hadn’t been a wise decision. Arthur made a mental note to contact the security company and have them fit in another camera.

“Um… I was just looking,” the man told him.

“Hmm. I was looking too. We have CCTV in this place you know?”

“Oh…” the man looked around fearfully. “Oh God, look, I know it’s good publicity for your shop and all that but please can you not?”

That was a bit of a cheek. And it removed any doubts Arthur might have had.

“Okay, just put it back and we’ll say nothing more about it.”

“What?” Even with the sunglasses the man looked puzzled.

“Good acting. Just put it back.”

“Put what back? Oh my God! You think I’ve stolen something?”

Arthur hesitated. He hadn’t actually seen the man take anything. “You seem to be very worried about the CCTV, you’ve been looking furtive ever since you came in and you’ve covered up your face. I’m sure if I asked you to empty your pockets we’d find a book or two. So, I’m asking you nicely, friend, put it back and leave, and we’ll say no more about it.”

“Friend? Like I could ever be friends with a judgemental clotpole like you!” The man stepped back so that he was in one of the alcoves, sheltered from the view of the street, then removed his hat and glasses, glaring at Arthur. “Okay?”

More than okay, if Arthur was honest. The glasses had been hiding a pair of beautiful blue eyes, and now that his face was revealed Arthur could see that the man was almost ethereally handsome, his cheekbones sculpted finely and his dark hair ruffled to perfection. The only problem was that he looked furious.

And, Arthur realised belatedly, perhaps he might not be a thief after all.

“Well, I mean you were acting suspiciously, and you were trying to hide your face. In the retail business that generally tends to mean just one thing…”

“Is that supposed to be an apology?” the man asked, his eyes widening incredulously. “I mean, if it is then it’s the worst apology I’ve ever heard in my entire life. Is this how you treat all your new customers?”

Arthur paused, knowing that there wasn’t really any way to continue arguing and not look like a complete arse. The not-thief would probably go home and leave Ygraine’s a scathing review. The shop would be closing down almost as soon as it had reopened. Also Arthur did feel quite bad about the whole accusation thing, if he was honest.

“No,” he admitted. “And I am sorry. Please accept my apologies, and a ten pound gift voucher as compensation.”

“Ten pounds?” the man raised an eyebrow. “Is that all my honour’s worth?”

“Twenty?” Arthur offered. There was definitely good innuendo to be had there but he wasn’t about to make things even worse by going down that path.

“Hmm. Perhaps. Quite a bad insult though.”

Arthur wasn’t sure, because he didn’t really know his adversary, but Arthur thought there was something of a smile playing in the corner of his eyes as he spoke.

“Yes it was, and I profusely apologise. Look, we have free wine and nibbles as well. It’s our first day reopening my mother’s shop and I’m a bit stressed. I’ve got my sister sitting out the back stealing all the wine, and my recently widowed father is haunting the place and looking miserable. We’re worried he’s going to have some sort of breakdown. And now my assistant on this floor has gone running off because apparently there’s some random actor with a ridiculous name wandering around outside. So… yes, I’m stressed, rude and extremely sorry.”

“Widowed? So, your mum…”

“Died. Yes.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Thank you. She loved this place, I just want to make it successful for her.”

On the street outside the shop there was a sudden commotion. Lots of people were all hurrying past, all heading in the same direction.

“That’ll be the actor,” Arthur sighed.

The man gave a wry smile. “Ah yes, the famous actor. Pity he didn’t come in here, that would have been good publicity for you.”

“Screaming girls aren’t the best publicity. It didn’t sound from what Ellie was saying as if he were a classical actor. Probably from some action movie. His name was Ace Tempest or something. Doesn’t scream Hamlet, does it?”

Strangely the customer looked a little sad at that, and shook his head. “No, it doesn’t. I think his name was Jace Storm though.”

“That’s it. Ah, you heard all the squealing then?”

“I did, yes. It’s partly the reason I came into a nice, quiet bookshop. Anyway, enough about him. I’m looking for a birthday gift for my uncle.”

“Okay. What sort of thing does he like?”

“Well he’s a science professor but a bit eccentric, very keen on anything about hidden alien invasions, the occult, anything unexplained. Do you have anything that might be suitable?”

“Yes we do,” Arthur smiled. “It’s all in that alcove behind the staircase,” he pointed towards the back of the shop. “Try Bide and Renard’s Are They Watching Us?, that’s only been out for a few weeks. Or Teague’s Darkened Windows. Both books are totally bonkers but I’ve been assured that they’re surprisingly well-written. I’d take you through a whole list of suggestions but unfortunately until my star-struck assistant returns I’m alone on the floor.”

“And a thief might come in.”

“A real one might, yes. And again I’m hugely sorry about that.”

The man smiled, waving the apology aside. “It’s okay. And I like browsing.”

“Bring a selection out to the till and I’ll give recommendations if I can. I went through a phase in my teens,” Arthur added, in case he was coming across as a conspiracy theorist himself.

“Of course you did.”

There was again the slight feeling that Arthur was being teased, but considering he’d unjustly accused a potential customer of theft Arthur supposed that he was getting off lightly. Still…

“And likewise, I’m sure those books are for your uncle,” Arthur grinned. “Don’t forget the complementary wine.”

The other man laughed and picked up a glass of the red and headed off. “As opposed to the uncomplimentary shopkeeper?” he smiled, making Arthur laugh too.

That smile really was attractive, Arthur thought. He wondered whether he could call Elena back. He really wanted to continue the conversation. But Elena was entitled to a break, he supposed. And she’d probably be paying no attention to anything inside the shop, too busy watching the window. Besides, if she missed seeing the actor that she liked so much she would probably never forgive him. No, Arthur resigned himself to wait for her to return, despite the temptation to head for the alcove.

An elderly gentleman came in and started looking around the crime section. Probably not another thief suspect though, Arthur thought to himself with a wry smile.

Leon appeared from the basement a few minutes later, wanting more of the promotional bookmarks that they’d been slipping into bags. He seemed to be doing better than Arthur as far as sales went so far. Most likely he hadn’t falsely accused potential customers of theft either. Arthur glanced towards the alcove, hoping that the Unexplained section was extremely interesting and that Leon would be gone before his customer returned. Because Leon would never let Arthur hear the end of it if he found out.

“You’re distracting people with the free wine,” Leon warned. “History and Literature in the basement, that’s where the sales action is!”

Leon clearly went bonkers at the first sniff of a competition but then he’d been that way as long as Arthur had known him. Leon had oddball, geeky ideas and an ingrained general knowledge of any sort of book that was largely down to the fact that he rarely had his nose out of one. Leon was very happy to work in the basement because if it was quiet then he could just sit and read. Perfect job, really.

Arthur didn’t want it quiet. He wanted to make sales, to have the shop become a huge success. And anyway he liked talking to fellow book lovers.

As Leon rummaged around under Arthur’s till looking for the bookmarks, Arthur’s customer re-appeared clutching a couple of books. He’d replaced his cap, hiding the mess of dark hair underneath. On seeing Leon he pulled the brim of his cap a little lower.

Arthur suspected that if he hadn’t had his hands full the sunglasses might have gone back on as well. It was a tragedy really that such an attractive face should get covered up. Perhaps it was the ears, Arthur wondered? They did stick out a bit, though that was cute as far as Arthur was concerned. Perhaps there had been teasing when he was younger, and he was still sensitive about it.

Wisely, Arthur decided not to ask. He’d already done enough damage for one day.

“I’ll take these two.”

“Good choice,” Arthur smiled.

“They’re the two you recommended.”

“I know! Like I said, good choice…” Arthur glanced at the name on the credit card that he was being handed, “…Merlin. And that’s a brilliant name!”

“It wasn’t in the original legends,” Leon commented from below the counter. “Merlin was a later invention. Unlike King Arthur he didn’t actually exist.”

“Don’t insult our customers, Leon,” Arthur warned, ignoring the raised eyebrow he got from Merlin for that.

“Customer? Oh!” Leon straightened up, bookmarks in hand, “Hah! It’s Merlin and Arthur!”

Merlin looked faintly bemused, until Arthur explained.

“What Leon means is that I’m Arthur, so you see with you being Merlin…”

“I’ll be sure to let the pair of you know if I find a sword stuck in a stone somewhere!” Leon smirked, then headed off back towards the basement. “Oh, and my till is forty seven pounds and eighteen pence ahead of yours, Arthur,” he called over his shoulder.

Arthur cursed under his breath as Leon vanished off down the stairs.

“Competition?” Merlin asked.

“Yes. Whoever has the lowest takings against their till login at the end of the day has to buy drinks.”

Merlin eyed the bottles and glasses on the little table near the till. “Don’t you already have enough?”

“That’s for customers only,” Arthur told him, handing over the credit card reader for Merlin’s PIN.

“Because it’s plonk?”

“Maybe,” Arthur admitted. “Also I don’t want sloshed staff. Elena isn’t the most accurate even when she’s sober.”

“That’s the one who’s gone looking for the actor?” Merlin tapped in his PIN.

“Yes.”

“So, won’t she have lost by default anyway?”

“I wouldn’t be so cruel. No, it’s just Leon and I who have a competition,” Arthur explained as the receipt printed out. “He’s a really good salesman and the books downstairs tend to be more expensive anyway. For some reason, publishers think it’s necessary to overprice anything a student or researcher might want. I know it’s down to the low print runs but still it seems mean.

Merlin nodded agreement. “I know what you mean. When I was a student I relied on the library and second hand market stalls.”

Arthur smiled. “That huge one under Albion Bridge is always good for a rummage. What did you study?”

Merlin looked down, fiddling with the zipper on his jacket. “Um… it was Drama, mostly.”

“Really? Do you act then?”

“A bit.”

“I should call Elena back,” Arthur chuckled. “Though I suppose she won’t be interested unless you’re in those trashy magazines she likes. At least you’ve got a name that screams classical drama. Should I keep an eye out at the theatre?”

Merlin shook his head, looking quite downcast again. Probably struggling to get work in his chosen field, Arthur realised and mentally kicked himself.

“Sorry, I know it’s tough out there. One of my friends at university has been trying to get into acting. So far we’ve had to watch her play the back legs of a pantomime horse in an amateur production. I think she’s moving up to front legs this year!”

“From the bottom up,” Merlin quipped. “Perhaps I’ll be the back end this year, now there’s a vacancy.”

Arthur would pay good money to see Merlin bent over for an hour or so, although the thought of him being covered up with a comedy costume wasn’t so appealing. He popped the books in one of the newly printed paper bags and held them out.

“I’m sure you could do better than that.”

Merlin shrugged, taking the bag of books from Arthur. “Perhaps. Anyway, thanks for the help with these. Uncle Gaius is going to love them.”

“You’re welcome. Thank you for your custom, please visit us again,” Arthur said. He really meant that last bit. It was probably all kinds of wrong to date a customer… although that was exactly what his mother had done and that had all worked out very well. But Merlin might not be into men, and Arthur had managed to insult him… no, he definitely couldn’t ask him on a date. Not yet anyway.

Merlin smiled. “Good sales patter. See you next time I need a book, Arthur.”

And then Merlin replaced his sunglasses and headed out of the shop. He did look quite furtive once he reached the door, Arthur thought. But then everyone was in danger of being trampled by rampaging Ace Tempest fans, so caution was probably a good idea.

There wasn’t much time to think about it. A few more customers had come in while he was talking to Merlin, and suddenly the shop was actually busy. As Arthur rang in a few more sales he started to hope that he might beat Leon’s total for the day after all.

---

Merlin didn’t run when he left Arthur’s bookshop, but he walked pretty fast. He had at least managed to pick up a gift for his favourite uncle, which was something. Uncle Gaius wasn’t at all impressed with the way that Merlin’s career was going, particularly since some of his students had discovered who his godson was and started pestering him to get them signed photos.

“When are you going to do some serious acting?” Gaius had sighed when Merlin dropped off a pile of signed photos for him. “What’s wrong with a good period drama, or better yet a stint at the National? And why on earth have you chosen such a ridiculous stage name? Do you know how embarrassing it is in the staff room when the humanities people come in?”

Merlin had apologised, and promised that he’d do some stage work as soon as there was some on offer.

There would never be any on offer. Merlin was locked into a watertight contract with his agent and the film company. Even once the Cat series was over (which wasn’t looking to be any time soon, given its popularity), Merlin would have to do whichever film they asked him to work on next. It would be the one that brought in the most money.

Merlin had been young and naïve, barely out of drama school, and it had seemed like a dream come true to get an agent and the lead in a film. He’d agreed to everything Cenred had asked, and signed his life away. It seemed so foolish to him now, four years down the line.

The Cat series wasn’t quite all that he had done, but the other films had all involved cameo appearances as Cat. It was just the same thing, over and over. Once or twice, given a few months break from filming, Merlin had auditioned for other things. But no directors wanted to take on Jace Storm as Hamlet or Mr Darcy or even the fool in King Lear. Cenred had been furious that he’d auditioned for that last one and it had been made very clear to Merlin afterwards that all auditions had to come via his agent. It was in the contract.

Merlin hated that contract. There was no escape from it, no get out clause. And Cenred earned fifty per cent of everything Merlin brought in. Plus all merchandising from the Cat series, which was a considerable amount, and from which Merlin himself didn’t see a penny.

Once, Merlin had taken the contract to a solicitor, just to see whether there was a way out. But it was all legally binding. No escape. Merlin had mostly given up after that. Eventually people would get bored of Cat and Cenred would drop him. But it was going to be a very long time coming.

Somehow Merlin made it back to his car without being spotted again. His phone beeped for attention a couple of times on the way but he ignored it. Only when he was safely in his car, hidden by the tinted windows, did he take it out and look.

Three messages from Cenred, all telling him off for going out without arranging it first, and without his bodyguard. There was also a message from Percival, the bodyguard in question, checking that he was okay.

Merlin liked Percival. The man was built like a brick wall but was down to earth and friendly. The sort of person you could go for a drink with and not worry about them having a hidden agenda. Percival was, in fact, the only person in Merlin’s life as Jace Storm that he actually liked.

Because of that, Merlin gave him a quick reassuring call before driving back to his flat. His empty, lonely flat. It looked good on photoshoots for magazines, but it was soulless. Cenred had arranged for him to live there. It wasn’t even actually his, Cenred sorted out the rent on it from Merlin’s earnings.

Merlin thought about the bookseller as he drove home. Arthur. Handsome and a little bit awkward. And so nice, despite the theft allegations. Arthur hadn’t had any idea who Merlin was. Neither had the other sales assistant in there. They’d both probably be appalled if they knew the truth.

Merlin wished more than ever that he was working on a play or something. Something that he could have told Arthur about, could have invited him along to. Afterwards they might have gone for a drink or something, got to know one another. Perhaps Arthur might have liked him? Perhaps they could have become a couple?

An intelligent man like Arthur was never going to be interested in someone like Merlin though. It would be like Uncle Gaius all over again. Arthur would be ashamed of him.

Merlin really missed being able to go out on dates with other men. Instead, all he had to look forward to was going to the premiere of Cat III with his co-star Vivien no doubt all over him for the cameras. Anyway Cenred had made it quite clear that boyfriends were not to be seen in public. Jace Storm was straight.

It was frustrating. Merlin had never had to hide who he was. His family and friends had always been accepting and supportive. He knew they didn’t like the public persona of Jace Storm any more than he did.

His mum would have loved him to bring someone like Arthur home, he knew that without question. Almost as much as Merlin would have loved it.

Merlin’s phone was ringing. He could have answered it, there was a hands-free setup in his car. But he could see that it was Cenred so he just let it ring through to the answerphone. He’d pick up the message later.

There was an advertising hoarding at the next junction with a poster for Cat III. It was larger than the one on the bus. Worse. There he was in that skin-tight catsuit, crouching on a rooftop, one hand raised to show the sharp claws.

Ridiculous.

---

The first day of opening had gone well, Arthur thought.

Morgana had vanished early in the afternoon, taking her new best friend Gwen off for lunch and cocktails. Arthur pitied whoever had to serve them – they’d already polished off a couple of bottles of the free wine at the bookshop.

Elena returned disappointed at the end of her break. She had not managed to find the film star that she’d gone searching for. Apparently he’d been spotted again outside Tesco’s, but this had turned out to be someone else with vaguely similar clothes. Arthur tried not to roll his eyes.

“You’re the best for letting me go and look though,” Elena beamed. “When Jace finally meets me and falls in love with me, you’re definitely coming to the wedding!”

Arthur couldn’t think of anything worse than attending a celebrity wedding, but as the chances of that actually happening were incredibly small he just smiled and agreed.

Leon won the battle of the tills by 36 pence in the end. Arthur didn’t mind, it was all profit for the shop anyway. And he’d had a good day anyway. Merlin had brightened up his morning, and Arthur had hopes that he might be a returning customer. Christmas wasn’t so very far off. Lots of presents for book-lovers.

In all, everything was good. But Arthur did get a shock when he went to lock up and found his father sitting in the back of the shop, staring out at the garden.

“Dad?”

Uther looked round, seemingly almost surprised to see him.

“I’m locking up now. I thought you’d gone home,” Arthur said gently.

His father really wasn’t doing well after his mother’s death. And Arthur had no idea what to do about it. He thought that he would talk to Morgana later, see if she had any ideas. It was upsetting to see. Uther Pendragon had been so strong, so feared in the courtroom. But perhaps all that had been because his home life was so contented?

“Sorry, Arthur. I lost track of time.”

So he’d been sitting there, perhaps for the entire day? No, Morgana and Gwen had been there earlier, Morgana would have made sure he was okay, perhaps alerted Arthur.

“I was reading,” Uther continued, holding up a book. “I used to sit here when I was waiting for your mother you know?”

Arthur did know. But back then Uther had brought his casework with him and had turned the café area into his own little office after hours.

“I’m going to the pub with Leon,” Arthur offered. “Come with us if you like?”

But Uther shook his head, getting to his feet. “Oh no, I won’t cramp your style. Your mother would never have let me hear the end of it. I’ll be getting home now. Do you think you’ll be back for dinner?”

Uther had been trying to cook for the family. The results were horrible. But he insisted on trying to make up for the lack of Ygraine. Whenever possible Arthur and Morgana either did the cooking themselves, ordered in, or ate out.

“I’ll grab something in the pub, don’t worry about doing anything for me,” Arthur told him, suppressing a shudder. Hopefully Uther would decide to go back to work soon and then Arthur and Morgana would be able to persuade him to hire a housekeeper. Either that or they would all end up with shares in Deliveroo.

Or in hospital. Arthur was never quite sure which was more likely.

---

It was a good idea to get as much Christmas shopping out of the way as possible, Merlin thought.

And that was why, a few days later, he was heading back to Ygraine’s. Christmas presents. There was his mum and his uncle and his cousin Freya, and his old mate Will… Well, maybe not Will. Will definitely would not appreciate being given a book. Beer or video games would better suit Will.

But there was his actor mate Lance, who definitely would appreciate a good book. And perhaps his other actor friend, Gwaine, would like a book on cocktail recipes or something. Maybe. And his bodyguard Percival would definitely like something on body-building. Or at least just a really big book that would be hard to lift.

Yes, there were many, many reasons to return to that bookshop on Foregate Street. None of them had anything to do with seeing the handsome shopkeeper again. It was just a coincidence. Plus it was always a good thing to support small local businesses. And Merlin intended supporting that one as much as possible.

It was November, and starting to get colder. That allowed Merlin to wear a padded parka that made him look at least twice the size that he actually was. Definitely not the svelte physique of the cat. Plus he could put the hood up because it was raining a bit. And he’d bought some black-rimmed glasses with only plain glass in, because it really wasn’t the weather for sunglasses. Also he thought it made him look a bit more bookish. Arthur might like it.

It had nothing at all to do with how sexy Arthur had looked in a similar pair of specs at all. Though Arthur’s were probably proper glasses. He’d looked so studious in them.

Glasses were a bit annoying in the rain though. They kept getting little droplets on them even though it was the fine, misty rain. Merlin was glad when he was able to slip into the shop and give them a quick wipe.

Oh no.

There was a blonde girl tidying up one of the displays. It was probably Elena, Merlin realised. The one who had gone out looking for him on his previous visit. Worse, there was no sign of Arthur at all.

Merlin kept his head down and aimed for the basement stairs. If nothing else, that Leon character would be down there and he had no more clue than Arthur who Merlin was. Merlin could oh-so-casually ask if Arthur was working that day as he’d been so helpful last time. Yes, that was an excellent plan. With a hat.

Actually, as he was indoors and it was quite warm in the shop, Merlin knew he’d have to lower his hood. But he waited until he was halfway down the stairs before he did so. Just in case Elena spotted him.

The basement of the shop was amazing. It was like a rabbit warren made of bookcases. They’d certainly made as good a use of space as they could, Merlin thought. Despite the new wood smell down there it felt like a wonderfully old-fashioned bookshop where you could lose yourself in the aisles for hours.

For Merlin it was perfect. If he ever needed to escape on a shopping trip, those quiet aisles and alcoves would be the ideal place.

“Hello! Do you need any help?”

The sound of Arthur’s voice startled him. Merlin turned quickly, almost knocking over some of the books with his flailing elbows. Arthur was standing a little way behind him, carrying a small pile of books. Merlin saw recognition dawn on his face, and was relieved to see it result in a smile.

“Oh, Merlin isn’t it? You came back.”

“Early Christmas shopping,” Merlin explained. “I’m busy with work in the next few weeks so I thought I’d make a start.”

“Ah, well that’s good news. We like repeat customers. Did I sign you up for our mailing list last time?” Arthur put the pile of books down, pushed back his glasses with one finger, then picked up the top book from the pile and started searching for its slot. “It was on the bookmark.”

“Ah, I put that in the present for my uncle,” Merlin explained, mentally kicking himself because signing up to the mailing list would have been a great idea. Arthur probably wrote those emails. There were probably pictures of him on any newsletters that went out.

Merlin probably needed to get a grip, he realised. But Arthur was even more attractive in person than Merlin remembered.

“I’ll sign up when I get home,” Merlin added. “Don’t want to miss any more days where you’re offering free wine.”

“That was a one-off,” Arthur explained, slotting the book into its home and reaching for the next one. “Though if you like the wine so much, we normally have a complimentary glass for all attendees of our writer talks. And the reading groups as well. Well, when they get started we will anyway.”

Merlin would very much have liked to attend those groups and talks. But there was no way that he could do so. He’d been lucky so far, but eventually someone would recognise him. He was on advertising hoardings all over Camelot.

“I’ll make sure I sign up,” Merlin promised again. “Anyway, why are you down here? I thought you worked on the ground floor.”

“I work all over the shop. Buying, selling, cleaning, balancing the books. I’ll probably even end up serving teas in the café once it’s open for business.”

A café. That was a great idea, Merlin thought. He could sit in there with a coffee and chat to Arthur.

“I like cafés,” he said. “But don’t you worry that people will spill things all over the books?”

“Bookshop cafés are a thing, Merlin,” Arthur told him, housing another book. “Customers like to come in with their laptops and notebooks and write. The presence of the books inspires them.”

Merlin eyed him dubiously, not sure whether Arthur was winding him up or not, but Arthur looked quite serious so Merlin supposed not.

“There’ll be cakes?” he checked.

“I expect so.”

“I’m in!”

Arthur did smile then. “That’s good. I’ll look forward to serving you.”

Merlin couldn’t help smiling back. “I’ll expect a big cake. And you in a pinny!”

“Apron, Merlin. They’re very smart. Probably have the shop logo on them.” Arthur climbed up on a step stool to put the latest book away in its slot. “Ah, can you hand me that last one please?”

Merlin handed up the final book and watched Arthur lean over to the next case along to place it correctly.

“Thank you.” Arthur hopped off the stool and stood looking at him, still half-smiling. “So, what can I help you with today? Christmas shopping, you said? Books are excellent Christmas presents.”

“As a bookseller you would say that!”

Arthur nodded. “Yes. And here you are, seeking out my expertise!”

“I was looking for that other fellow,” Merlin teased. “Leon, was it? I thought he was king of the basement.”

Arthur looked a little disappointed at that, which was a hopeful sign. “Ah, he’s on leave today.”

“I’ll just have to make do with you then,” Merlin grinned. “I’m looking for something for my cousin Freya. She really likes those horrible chick lit romance novels but pretends not to. Or if your shop is too posh for those, she also likes myths and legends, the more romantic the better.”

“I sense a theme,” Arthur raised an eyebrow, smiling back at him.

“You’d not be wrong.”

“I rarely am.”

Honestly Arthur flitted between adorable and arrogant and Merlin wasn’t quite sure which of the two he preferred.

“Go on then, find me the perfect book,” Merlin challenged.

Arthur was looking terribly pleased with himself and Merlin just knew he already had one in mind. “Come with me.”

“If I want to live?”

“Funny.”

Okay, so Arthur was at least familiar with the Terminator movies. Or more likely just the first one as that was about a hundred years old and probably counted as a classic, Merlin supposed.

The Cat was never going to be a classic. There was nothing clever about it at all. The one saving grace was that Merlin had fought against and won the battle not to have full-frontal nudity in the series. He’d had to resort to tears and hysterics, and wasn’t proud of the fact but it had worked. Cenred had eventually agreed to a rear view instead but it had been a close thing.

At least Arthur would never see it.

Arthur led him towards the stairs and for a horrible moment Merlin thought they were going to go up and that he would be faced with Elena the Cat fan. But instead Arthur walked past, to a door behind the staircase that Merlin hadn’t even noticed.

“Strictly speaking this one isn’t on sale until Monday,” Arthur told him, opening the door. “We’ve got six copies in, two are already reserved on pre-order.”

“Hot off the press then?”

“Yes,” Arthur flicked on a light switch and Merlin found himself in the doorway of what had to be the stock room. “Now if you want a copy there’s a problem. I can’t let you take the book away with you until it’s officially released but we can reserve you a copy and you can pick it up when you’re next in.”

“Bold of you to think I’ll come back!”

“Bold of you not to think I might lock you in here and never let you leave until you’ve bought half the stock!” Arthur retorted.

“Leon would release me. He wouldn’t want you to win the battle of the tills.”

“Leon isn’t in until Monday.”

Merlin went further into the storeroom, letting the door swing shut behind him. It was the sort of risk that Lance always told him to be careful of, because you never knew when someone was going to turn out to be an obsessed fan, no matter how sensible they seemed at first.

Well, that was okay because Arthur wasn’t entirely sensible. He’d accused Merlin of theft on their first meeting and now had threatened to kidnap him. Really the press would have a field day if they ever heard about it.

“Do you take all your customers in here?” Merlin asked.

“No, this is the special room for ones that sneak around the shop looking shifty.”

“I don’t look shifty!”

Arthur raised an eyebrow, and Merlin couldn’t really blame him because Merlin had looked shifty when he’d first come into the shop, and probably again that day when he’d sneaked past Elena.

“Anyway, shifty or not, this is our storeroom,” Arthur explained. As if Merlin wouldn’t have worked that out for himself. “And this,” he held up a thick hardback book with a green cover embossed with gold lettering, “is the ideal gift for your romance and folklore loving cousin.”

An Encyclopaedia of the Romantic Myths and Legends of Albion, the cover of the book stated. There was an oval painting in the centre of the cover with a couple reaching towards one another, not quite managing to touch. It looked solid and attractive. When Merlin took the book and flicked through it he saw there were numerous illustrations, all of them quite beautiful. Freya would definitely love it.

“It’s going to be a good seller,” Arthur told him. “As soon as I saw it I put in an order for some more. It’ll be out on display on Monday… briefly. I expect they’ll all be gone by lunchtime!”

“It’s expensive, isn’t it?” Merlin guessed. “That’s why I’m getting the hard sell.”

“Surely for your favourite cousin it’s going to be worth it? Imagine her happy face on Christmas Day!”

Arthur didn’t deny the expensive part, Merlin noted. But Merlin had no valid arguments as to why he shouldn’t buy it. “Okay, you win. Reserve me a copy.”

Arthur looked far too pleased with himself.

“And don’t look so smug!” Merlin added.

“Just admit I’m the best bookseller ever and know my stuff.”

Merlin sighed. “Fine. It was a good pick. A lucky pick really because you’d just had new stock in.”

“Stock that I’d ordered.”

Merlin hummed non-committedly.

“I did! It’s my shop! Oh!” Arthur glanced at the closed door. “I should go back out, there’s nobody on the floor.”

“And there was I, thinking you wanted to get me alone,” Merlin replied without thinking. “Oh! I mean… um…”

Arthur’s smile widened, and there was a cheeky glint in his eye. Though perhaps it was the light reflected on his glasses.

“Maybe I do,” he admitted. “Would that be a terrible thing?”

Yes it would, Merlin thought. Because Cenred would put paid to it if he found out.

“No.”

Cenred would just have to not find out.

They grinned at each other, probably looking like a pair of idiots Merlin thought but didn’t care.

“So… when you come back for the book perhaps we could go for a drink?”

Merlin nodded, though he wasn’t sure how he could pull that off. Someone was bound to recognise him if he went to a pub. “Your coffee shop, perhaps?”

“It’s not open.”

“I know.”

“Ah. I like your thinking,” Arthur told him. He hadn’t stopped smiling.

And Merlin rather liked being shut in there with his handsome bookseller, but he appreciated that it wouldn’t endear him to Arthur if half the stock was stolen while Arthur was distracted by Merlin.

“Good. Though you probably should get back to your shop while you’ve still got some stock left.”

“Oh!” Arthur scrambled over to the door and opened it. There was nobody outside, and no sign that anyone had come down while they were in the stockroom. “It looks okay. Everything’s there.”

“You could count every single book just by looking out there for a moment?” Merlin queried.

“Yes, I have superpowers,” Arthur replied.

For a brief moment Merlin wondered whether Arthur knew and was teasing him. But there was no hint of guile in Arthur’s blue eyes, and Merlin pushed the thought away.

“SuperBookshopMan,” Merlin declared. “It doesn’t exactly trip off the tongue, does it?”

“You’re just jealous because SuperBookshopMan thwarted your cunning plan to steal all the books!”

“True. He’s certainly overzealous. And makes poor customers buy expensive first editions that mean they’ll need to take out a second mortgage!”

Arthur shook his head. “I doubt that. The coat you’re wearing is a Sigan and it looks brand new. If you can afford a grand for a coat, you can definitely afford forty pounds for a gift your cousin will treasure forever.”

Actually Merlin hadn’t paid a penny for it. He had to wear Sigan’s clothes as part of his contract. But he wasn’t going to tell Arthur that.

“True. Ah, so that’s why you’re singling me out, you smell money?”

“No,” Arthur assured him. “My father is Uther Pendragon. Majority shareholder in Pendragon & Gorlois. We’re not short of money. If he had to, he could keep this shop open. But I have no intention of ever asking him to do that. I think I can make a go of it. And I’m definitely not singling you out for money.”

“Good.”

“No, it’s the fact you’re such a cheap date that I can try to woo you in the café upstairs!” Arthur grinned.

“Woo? Who says woo?” Merlin exclaimed.

“SuperBookshopMan of course! My superpower is wooing!”

Honestly, Arthur was a ridiculously geeky fool and Merlin knew that he was falling for him. It was all probably a terrible idea and going to end in tears but he couldn’t resist.

“I thought you were only into classical literature? Where did all this superhero stuff come from?” Merlin asked.

“Comics are classical literature, I think you’ll find. Original material, not like all those poor quality films that are always coming out. No, the comics are the way to go. I think I’ll write one about SuperBookshopMan and put it on the shop blog.”

“Can you draw?”

“No, but that’s a technicality. Leon can do the art. Yes, this is a great idea! Thanks Merlin!”

Merlin couldn’t imagine what Arthur was going to create, but he’d certainly be signing up to the shop mailing list to find out. Clearly Arthur was slightly bonkers. Even more attractive.

“You can tell me all about it at the café,” Merlin said. “And I’ll pick up the book at the same time.”

Arthur grinned delightedly at that. “So, I’ll see you Monday evening, perhaps? We close at eight, if that’s okay?”

Monday evening was the date of the red carpet premiere. It would be a late night and there would be interviews the whole of the next day.

“It’ll have to be Wednesday,” Merlin admitted. “I’m working late on Monday and Tuesday. Shall I pay for the book now, then you won’t be tempted to sell it?”

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” Arthur replied. “But yes, money in the till is always good. This way…”

---

Arthur watched Merlin leave the shop. The hood on his parka had gone back up as soon as he went up the stairs. It was cold out, Arthur supposed. But Merlin really did seem to like walking around like some secret agent.

Wednesday night though. Arthur was looking forward to it. It had been a while since he’d been out on a date... even though strictly it wasn’t out this time. All Arthur’s time had been taken up getting the shop ready to reopen. Now that was done he could enjoy a little time for himself. The café was a bit of a strange place to request but Arthur supposed at least they wouldn’t be disturbed. And hopefully the coffee machine would be working by then. The electrician was due on Monday afternoon.

The rest of the day was uneventful. Gwen popped in to put up a poster for the sci fi and fantasy reading group. The first meeting would be that coming Thursday. Gwen was bringing some of her famous cakes along and Arthur was looking forward to trying them.

There were a decent amount of sales and orders coming in, and by the end of the day Arthur was feeling quite positive. And then Morgana came in with tickets to some awful-sounding film.

“You should have a night out, Arthur,” she insisted. “Get dressed up. Find a date.”

Arthur looked at the tickets she’d handed him. “The Cat III? What, is it a sequel to that awful musical thing?”

“No, Arthur,” Morgana told him patiently. “It’s a famous superhero movie. These are tickets to the red carpet premiere on Monday night. You should go. You might meet someone at the party afterwards.”

“Cat III?” Elena butted in, snatching the tickets out of Arthur’s hand. “Oooh! Jace Storm will be there!”

“Oh god not him again,” Arthur muttered. “Morgana, why on earth would you think I’d want to go to this?”

“It’s a night out and a chance to have fun so I thought – who needs that more than my darling but somewhat boring baby brother?”

“You mean a client gave you the tickets and you don’t want to go,” Arthur guessed.

“Oh no, I do want to go. It’s a chance to dress up and get some publicity for the firm. But I can’t, I’m busy Monday night. So I thought you could represent Pendragon & Gorlois.”

“I’m not a lawyer.”

“Technicality. Besides, you’ll like it. You could stock the comics, tell the press about the shop.”

“I very much doubt any reporter attending a film premiere is going to be even remotely interested in some little bookshop owner,” Arthur pointed out. “No thank you, Morgana.”

“But it’s Jace Storm!” Elena sighed. “You’d get to meet him.”

“Thrilling as that sounds, no.”

“You need to get out more,” Morgana insisted. “When was the last time you went on a date?”

“I’ve got a date on Wednesday night, for your information,” Arthur told her, then instantly regretted doing so because her eyes lit up with interest.

“Really? Do tell.”

There was no need for her to sound so surprised, he thought with some annoyance.

“I might tell you after a few more dates. It’s early days for now so keep this out,” he tapped his nose.

Morgana rolled her eyes. “Fine. But I want to hear all about him ASAP. In the meantime, what am I supposed to do with these tickets?”

Elena held them out to her with a pleading expression. “Morgana, you know you’re my favourite Pendragon… Pleeeeeeeeease…”

Morgana laughed. “Take them. But I don’t want Mithian complaining to me if you run off with Jace Storm!”

“Oh she won’t mind! She wants to run off with that Vivien Olaf who’s in it too! We’ll have a foursome! Oh! You’re the best! Thank you so much!” Elena looked like she might hug Morgana, but then appeared to see her imminent demise written on Morgana’s face were she to do so. Instead, she settled for simply hugging the tickets close.

Morgana took a quick step back anyway. She was still in her work clothes and probably didn’t want them creased, Arthur supposed. Although it was Saturday so theoretically she should be off duty. But Morgana was their workaholic father’s daughter through and through.

Except Uther didn’t work at all now. And he wasn’t thriving from the rest, not at all.

“Thanks for this,” Arthur nodded towards Elena. “I’m not going to hear about anything else for days!”

“Sorry!” Morgana didn’t sound sorry at all.

“Hmm. Anyway, I’ll see you for lunch tomorrow?”

Morgana nodded. “I’ll suggest we go out to The Dragon’s Head. Anything rather than suffer Dad’s cooking.”

“I’ll make a booking now,” Arthur agreed. “You go home and persuade him. Tell him it’s our treat.”

Arthur felt bad about it. But their father had to be the worst cook in the whole of Camelot. And he insisted on family meals every Sunday, just as there had been when Ygraine Pendragon was alive. It was a nice idea in theory.

“He says he’s bought a new cookbook.”

“I know. I tried to stop him. It’s one of those by a celebrity chef, one that needs hundreds of ingredients just to make cheese on toast.”

Morgana groaned. “We’ve got to do something about this, Arthur. I’ll try to persuade him to come back to work. Mum worked. It’s not as if he needs to be a house father or whatever it is he’s trying to do!”

Arthur gave a heavy sigh. “He’s still grieving, Morgs. This… bizarre behaviour, it’s just his way of trying to cope. We have to support him. It’s what Mum would have wanted.”

Morgana huffed, but nodded agreement. “I know. I just don’t think she would have wanted him to poison us.”

Morgana had a good point.

---

Sunday was supposed to be a day of rest, or so Merlin had heard.

Instead, Merlin had spent it in an endless round of interviews. It was par for the course just before a film release, but still it was a part of the job that he intensely disliked. It was hard to think of anything new to say about the third part of a story involving a vigilante who dressed up as a cat. But he had no choice. Cenred was always there, lurking around, making sure that Merlin was fulfilling his contractual obligations and promoting the film.

It was just so tiring.

By the time they were finished for the day, Merlin was ready to go home and curl up in bed. But that wasn’t on the cards. He had to go out to a fancy bar with Gwaine Greene and Lance DuLac, two of Cenred’s other clients. My men about town, that was what Cenred called it. Never mind that Gwaine would want to be off on the pull and both Lance and Merlin would have preferred a beer and movie night in one of their flats. Or that Merlin had to attend the film premiere the following evening and really wanted his sleep.

Lance also had a movie coming out shortly and needed to be seen, while Gwaine was just there because any excuse for a night out. Plus Merlin had no doubt that Gwaine did consider himself and Lance his best friends and would always be up for going out with them. Until he found someone to go home with, at any rate.

The Sigan outfit Merlin had been given to wear was uncomfortable, the new shoes pinched, and he knew he was in severe danger of falling asleep on the bar at some point. And then pictures of him like that would be all over the internet.

At least Gwaine and Lance would wake him up and stop him making too much of a fool of himself. Well, Lance would, anyway. And Gwaine would probably distract the press with his drunken behaviour, or by going off with a new partner. Good friends to have.

His only friends, really. Other than Will, who didn’t enjoy going out with Merlin any more because of all the publicity and people bothering them. His lifelong friendship with Will had turned into messages and texts, and occasional meetups at home. Merlin feared Arthur would be the same or worse when he found out the truth. Arthur didn’t have the years of friendship to fall back on and would probably just leave Merlin’s life as quickly as he’d entered it. Good people did.

Apart from Lance and Gwaine. They seemed to be sticking around and he loved them for it.

“So, Cat-man,” Gwaine grinned over the top of his beer. “I hope that sexy leather outfit is on display again this year? You know it’s purr-fect on you?”

Gwaine liked to flirt with anything that moved, friends or not. He could hit on anyone, because he’d been more sensible with his contract than Merlin and wasn’t strictly bound by clauses stating who he should and shouldn’t see. Gwaine and Lance had both got someone in employment law to read it through before they signed it. Not like Merlin.

He wished he’d met them before he’d signed. But it was too late.

“It’s just a costume,” Merlin pointed out.

“Shiny. Fluid.”

“Uncomfortable. Yes, it’s in the film. Stupid thing.”

“Me?” Gwaine asked, affecting mock-hurt.

“The costume.”

“But if the cap fits,” Lance put in. “Leave him alone, Gwaine. You know he hates being Cat.”

Gwaine nodded, then took a long drink from his pint. “One day, my friend, that series will stop making money, Cenred will drop you and you’ll be free to go and star in worthy dramas that nobody is going to watch.”

“And we’ll help you find a new agent,” Lance added. “And we’ll get a lawyer for you to read through any contract before you sign it.”

“Still can’t believe you just signed without reading,” Gwaine groaned. “Anyway my friend, too late now. So drink up, it makes the world look better.”

Merlin took a small sip of his pint, ignoring Gwaine’s eye-roll as he did so.

“Lightweight.”

“Yes I am,” Merlin agreed. “And I’ve got the premiere tomorrow night. I don’t particularly want to look hungover. Plus, Vivien’s going to be there.”

“Ah, the delectable Miss Olaf.” Gwaine smacked his lips together.

Lance patted Merlin on the shoulder sympathetically. “Bad luck. Rather you than me, though.”

Like Merlin, Lance had been required to play opposite Vivien in a movie and then be seen with her out and about. Lance claimed he was still traumatised.

“I wouldn’t mind,” Gwaine commented. “I mean she’s got great…”

“So what’s the new film about?” Lance put in loudly, before Gwaine could finish whatever he was about to say. “Why aren’t I in it?”

“You’re in France, apparently, recovering from the shock of finding Cat’s true identity. And also you weren’t available for filming,” Merlin added.

“As long as I’ve not been killed off.”

“Wish Cat had been,” Merlin grumbled. “But no chance. Anyway, sod the film, I’ve been talking about it all day. I need advice.”

“Don’t sign contracts without reading them,” Gwaine replied helpfully.

“Thank you. Yes, I’ve learned that lesson. No, this is possibly a new boyfriend… and yes, I know I’m not supposed to see anyone without Cenred’s approval.”

“Sod Cenred,” Gwaine commented. “So who’s this bloke then, and when do we meet him? We need to make sure you’re not getting ripped off or anything.”

“I’m not. He has no idea about the Jace Storm thing. I don’t think he’s going to be impressed with it, he’s not really someone who would enjoy all the press attention.”

“Cenred’s not going to like that,” Lance mused.

“I know. But I shouldn’t have to spend my life alone just because I made one mistake. Cenred doesn’t need to know. So, how do you two manage when you meet someone that you want to keep out of the public eye?”

Gwaine shrugged. “I don’t tend to meet people like that.”

“I would take them to places where there’s no chance of running into the paps,” Lance told him. “But you need to tell him the truth, Merlin. It’s not fair on him or you to start living a lie.”

“My whole Jace Storm life is a lie though,” Merlin pointed out. “The official biography rubbish on my webpage… I don’t know who that person is.”

“I want to see a picture,” Gwaine insisted, leaning across the table and making a grab for Merlin’s phone. “Is he cute?”

“I don’t have a picture,” Merlin lied, because he did have a picture of Arthur, he’d copied it from the bookshop website. “We haven’t even dated yet.”

“You need to be honest with him,” Lance said again. “Otherwise you’re doomed from the start.”

Merlin nodded miserably. He had a feeling they probably were anyway.

---

The premiere of Cat III was every bit as grim as Merlin had expected.

He was chauffeured to the venue from Cenred’s office a few streets away. Vivien was in the limo with him, but she might as well have been half a world away for all the notice she took of him. Mostly, she was interested in her phone or in re-checking her makeup. That all changed as soon as the limo stopped and the door opened.

Merlin tried not to grimace at the number of flashes going off in his face as soon as he stepped out of the vehicle. There was a huge crowd, as he’d expected, and plenty of press all shouting things at him. He smiled and waved dutifully, not actually looking any of them in the face. And then Vivien made her entrance.

Vivien’s dress was stunning, cut in all the right places to both flatter and titillate. She was a beautiful woman, it was just a shame that the beauty was only skin-deep.

“Jace, darling!” she called, looking surprised as if she hadn’t been sitting next to him only a moment before. “Come here.”

Merlin had no choice in the matter. He found himself standing there as a prop while Vivien pouted and giggled and simpered at him, posing for the press.

“Are you two dating?” someone called.

Vivien blushed and fluttered her eyelashes in some fake attempt at bashfulness. It really didn’t suit her, Merlin thought.

“I couldn’t possibly say,” she purred. “But you know how things get when you’re filming.”

Merlin tried not to roll his eyes because Cenred would kill him if it was caught on camera.

“Jace! Anything to say? What’s it like working with Viv?”

“Amazing,” Merlin said quite truthfully, though it would not be taken in the way he meant. “Unforgettable, in fact.”

Vivien pinched his arm hard, still smiling but not missing the implication of what he was saying.

“Jace, you’re such a tease!” she giggled, her gaze never leaving the cameras.

“Give her a kiss, Jace!” one of the press called, and others shouted their approval.

It never ceased to amaze Merlin how fake his life had become. To the public, anyway. He prayed Vivien hadn’t done her usual trick of eating garlic right before a staged kiss, and obliged the paparazzi.

Vivien made sure it looked as if they were about to hop into bed together. Merlin smiled and smiled and wished he was back at home with his feet up. Or, better, already on his date with Arthur. The whole thing wouldn’t have been so bad if he was with someone that he actually liked. At least for the previous two years Lance had been around to keep him company.

“Oh Jace, darling, I’ve got lipstick on you!” Vivien cooed, reaching up to dab at his face with a tissue. “Whatever will people say?”

Merlin maintained his fixed smile, not saying anything as the flashes went off again. He supposed the trashy papers would be carrying pictures of them in the morning editions looking all loved up. At least Arthur wouldn’t see it. He probably only read papers that carried serious book reviews.

“Jace!” some of the crowd were calling. “Over here!”

Merlin didn’t mind doing the selfies and autographs thing too much. Lance had always gone round with him and made it less uncomfortable. He had little hope that Vivien would want to do it. There was no benefit in being seen in someone’s selfie.

“We should meet a few of the fans,” Merlin suggested.

“God, no,” Vivien shuddered. “You can do that.”

As it was a chance to escape Vivien’s clutches, Merlin spent longer than usual walking up and down the barricade, signing photos and posing for selfies. It was cold and his suit was made of a thin material not really suited for the late November weather, but walking and talking and leaning in for pictures helped a bit.

“We love you, Jace!”

“Marry me, Jace!”

Everyone laughed at that last one, which came from a blonde girl at the front of one of the barricades. She looked vaguely familiar, though Merlin couldn’t place exactly where from. He posed for a picture with her, and signed a copy of the graphic novel of the first film, then moved on to the next outstretched photo.

Merlin didn’t think anything more about it.

---

Elena was late for work the next morning.

Arthur wasn’t surprised, he’d been expecting it. Besides, they were quiet first thing so it wasn’t too much of a hardship.

They weren’t quiet when Elena finally arrived.

“Sorry… sorry…” she gabbled as she hurried through the shop, heading for the staff room to stash her coat and bag.

“Good night?” Arthur called as she rushed past.

“Brilliant! I met Jace Storm! I’ll tell you all about it!”

Arthur could hardly wait. At least the coffee machine in the café was finally working which meant he had a valid excuse to put off the inevitable squealing for a little while longer.

“I’ll get us a coffee,” he said as soon as Elena was out on the shop floor. “You take over here.”

“I could make them?” she offered.

Arthur had spent quite a bit on refurbishing the café. He suspected Elena would break the coffee machine sooner rather than later as it wasn’t the easiest thing to use. He couldn’t really outright ban her because it would hurt her feelings, but the sooner there was someone managing the little café the better.

Unfortunately the person he’d hired had resigned before they’d even started, having found a better job elsewhere. He was dreading going through the recruitment process again. And in the meantime the brand new café was going to sit empty.

Well, apart from on Wednesday night when it was going to host the cheapest date night ever.

There was something a bit strange about Merlin, Arthur thought. As if he wanted to hide all the time. Arthur just hoped that he didn’t actually turn out to be some kind of criminal or something. Still, Arthur was looking forward to Wednesday night. It had been ages since he’d been on a proper date, too wrapped up in his family and then in reopening the bookshop.

Elena had her phone out when Arthur went back to the till. That didn’t bode well. He supposed there were going to be photos as well as the upcoming monologue about the evening. He held out her coffee, hoping that would be enough of a distraction to keep the story short. It was unlikely.

And there weren’t many customers so he couldn’t even use work as an excuse to escape.

“He’s so handsome in person!” Elena gushed immediately. “Although he had that Vivien Olaf with him and she’s a bit up herself if you ask me. She didn’t sign any autographs and refused to do selfies. Mithian was really disappointed. But Jace was so nice, he tried to sign for everyone and do loads of pictures. He posed with me, Mith took the pic. Look… oh no that’s the actor playing the bad guy…”

Arthur glanced down at the phone but Elena was swiping furiously and he couldn’t really see anything.

“How was the actual film?”

“Brilliant. Jace is so good in it. Though we nearly didn’t get in because we’d stood outside trying to get autographs. We lost track of time.”

“Because Jace is so dreamy, I know,” Arthur rolled his eyes. “Okay, let’s see this icon of perfection.”

“I know you’re teasing,” Elena giggled, but that didn’t stop her pulling up a picture and holding her phone out for Arthur to see. “But come on, look how cute he is!”

Arthur looked.

There was a man who looked the absolute spitting image of Merlin smiling back at him from Elena’s phone. It wasn’t just that he looked similar, he could have been Merlin’s twin. The only difference was that his hair was tidied, presumably tamed by a ton of product, and he was wearing a suit instead of the jeans and hoodies that he’d worn in the shop.

“Merlin…” Arthur breathed, stunned.

“That’s Jace,” Elena told him. “Now you see why I went off looking for him the other day. Imagine, he could have come into our shop!”

“Imagine,” Arthur repeated, nodding slowly, not quite able to take his eyes off the picture. “Elena, Jace Whatever is presumably not his real name. You’re quite the fan. I don’t suppose you recall his actual name?”

“Why?”

“Oh,” Arthur tore his gaze away from the photo and forced himself to smile brightly at Elena. “No reason, it’s just that sometimes these people have amusing original names and I just wondered what his was.”

Elena shrugged. “That’s easy. Jace’s real name is Merlin. That’s why he’s so magical!”

“Merlin Emrys?”

“That’s it! Wait, how did you know that? You said the other day you’d never seen any of the Cat films.”

“Just something a customer said, that’s all.” Arthur tried to appear as unconcerned as possible, though inside his head was spinning with the shock of the discovery.

It certainly explained the way he liked to keep his face hidden, and all the skulking around that he did when he came into the shop. And why he’d put up his hood when going upstairs – he’d known Elena would recognise him.

“Strange thing to say,” Elena commented.

“We get strange people in sometimes,” Arthur replied. “You know, I think I would like to see those movies. The Cat, you say they’re called?”

Elena nodded, closing her phone. “The first two are on Netflix.”

That was useful, Arthur thought. He’d been thinking about seeing if he could pick up a DVD but Netflix was so much better.

“I’m not sure they’re really your sort of thing,” Elena added.

“Just want to see what all the fuss is about,” Arthur assured her. “Now, if you’re okay on the till, I’ve got an order to unpack in the stockroom.”

He quickly made his escape. As soon as he was safely shut away out of sight, he got out his phone and started to search for anything and everything about Jace Storm.

There was a vast amount of information out there. And pictures. So many pictures.

The online version of that day’s papers had photos from the premiere the night before. Merlin was there on the red carpet smiling for the camera. And hanging onto him was a stunningly glamourous blonde woman whom the photo captions identified as his co-star and possible girlfriend, Vivien Olaf.

Vivien was clinging to Merlin’s arm, and in a few shots she was kissing him.

Arthur felt slightly ill.

So, Merlin had just been toying with him, Arthur supposed. Merlin had this amazing, beautiful girlfriend and was just… well, Arthur couldn’t quite work out what on earth Merlin would get out of it. Perhaps he was on a bet or a dare with one of his actor friends? He’d seemed so genuine. But of course if he was an actor then he wouldn’t be much good at his craft if he hadn’t seemed genuine.

More than likely, Merlin wasn’t going to turn up the following evening, Arthur realised.

It was hugely disappointing. The good mood that Arthur had been in since Merlin’s Saturday visit to the shop had evaporated, and he was left with a dark cloud hanging over him.

It didn’t get better when he watched the first and second Cat movies back to back that evening.

It was every bit as poor a film series as he’d expected, except Merlin lit up the screen. He was a good actor, wasted on such drivel, who looked great in the costume.

There was no way that he was going to genuinely be interested in some random bookshop owner who hadn’t even known who Merlin was. In someone like Arthur.

---

Wednesday evening arrived, finally.

The past few days had felt like the longest of Merlin’s life. He had answered so many questions about the stupid Cat series, and fended off even more asking about his supposed affair with Vivien.

Vivien, for her part, was unhelpfully telling the press that they were an item, which was making them seek out Merlin even more. He just hoped that Cenred didn’t decide to intervene and order them to date. Merlin was quite convinced that he and Vivien didn’t have a single thing in common. Not even the acting, really, because Vivien was only interested in what she looked like on camera and not so much on whatever feelings her gutsy reporter character was supposed to be projecting.

Arthur, on the other hand, was interesting and fun. The thought of their upcoming date had kept Merlin going through all the tedious publicity work that he’d had to do.

There was one thing that he wasn’t looking forward to though. Lance was quite right – Merlin was going to have to tell Arthur the truth sooner rather than later. He was sure Arthur wouldn’t be too happy if the first he heard of it was a reporter turning up in the shop. Or worse, a whole pack of them.

It was hard to think of a way to broach the subject though. ‘Hi, I’m an internationally famous actor and if you continue to date me you’re going to get hounded by the press’ was true but it wasn’t likely to make Arthur want to carry on with the relationship.

Merlin still hadn’t thought of anything to say by five to eight when he was standing outside the shop nervously, peering in through the window.

Arthur was in there, tidying up one of the displays. There didn’t appear to be anyone else around, though Merlin knew either Leon or Elena would be downstairs. Or perhaps some other shop worker that he didn’t know about.

Leon would be fine, it was Elena he was worried about. She was probably really nice, but he really didn’t want to run into her until he’d put Arthur straight.

He couldn’t really wear his sunglasses at night, but he had his hood up. It would have to do. Taking a deep breath and crossing his fingers for luck, Merlin pushed open the shop door and stepped inside.

The door had an old-fashioned little bell that he hadn’t noticed on his previous visits. Although the door had been open then because it was daytime, so he supposed the bell wouldn’t have activated.

Arthur looked up, and for a moment Merlin thought he looked surprised. And perhaps the smile wasn’t as wide as it had been on Merlin’s previous visits.

“Um… we said eight on Wednesday, yes?” Merlin checked. Perhaps Arthur hadn’t considered it a fixed date and time. But Merlin was sure he had.

“Yes,” Arthur replied, looking around nervously as if he were expecting someone else to appear. “I just… Never mind. You’re here, that’s great. I’m just closing up, you can go and sit in the café if you like, I won’t be long.”

Merlin hesitated. “Can I help? Or is Leon or… Elena…”

“Leon’s downstairs, Elena’s finished for the day. Why, were you hoping to meet her?”

That was an odd thing to say, Merlin thought. And Arthur’s tone had been a little short. “No, I just… Um… I’ll go and sit in the café,” Merlin decided, and made a swift exit.

It was a good twenty minutes before Arthur joined him. Merlin heard Arthur talking to Leon, heard the front door open and close, and then finally there were footsteps on the floorboards indicating that Arthur was on his way.

“I brought wine,” Merlin called cheerily when Arthur appeared. Arthur was carrying one of the shop bags. “Is that my book?”

“It is. I hope your cousin enjoys it.” Arthur put the bag down on the table. “So, did you want to try out the brand new coffee machine, or will it be wine in coffee cups?”

“Wine tastes the same whatever it’s in,” Merlin pointed out.

“Yes,” Arthur picked up the bottle and looked at the label, “although this looks expensive. It seems a shame to insult it so. Perhaps I can find some glasses.”

Arthur was very posh, Merlin thought. He didn’t say so though, because Arthur seemed a little off that evening. Perhaps he was nervous?

“Don’t you have other things than coffee cups in your café?” Merlin asked.

“Yes, but most things are in boxes. I found the cups the other day when I was trying out the coffee machine. Glasses could be anywhere.” Arthur started opening some of the storage boxes scattered around the café area. “We’ve got a reading group in here tomorrow night. I probably should unpack at some point. Ah! Here we go.” He brought out a couple of small tumblers. “Not very elegant but at least they’re glasses.”

“I could help you unpack if you like?” Merlin offered, coming over to stand beside him. “Not a very conventional date, but I don’t mind. Then you won’t have to rush around tomorrow?”

Arthur regarded him for a moment, biting his lip. Then he gave a heavy sigh. “Look, Merlin. I don’t know what’s going on here.”

“We’re having a date in your closed café and you’re being a bit strange,” Merlin offered.

“Yes. But not as strange as an apparently extremely famous film star with a gorgeous girlfriend coming in here pretending he’s someone else,” Arthur told him bitterly.

“Ah.”

“Yes. Ah. Elena went to the premiere of your film on Monday. She took quite a lot of pictures of you and that actress,” Arthur explained. “So, I’m just a little curious as to what’s going on here.”

Merlin nodded sadly. “Understandable. Well, why don’t you pour us that wine and I’ll tell you all about it. And then I can either leave, or we can sort out your café. Okay?”

“Okay.” Arthur placed the two glasses down on the counter and poured out the wine, passing one to Merlin, then saluting him with his own glass. “Bottoms up.”

Merlin took a sip of the wine. He needed it really, in case Arthur decided everything was over before it had even begun. “I did say I was an actor,” he pointed out.

“Yes, you did. You just omitted to say that you were world-famous. But that’s not what bothers me, Merlin. After I realised who you were I went looking online. You’re dating this Vivien Olaf person. I don’t want to be anyone’s secret relationship.”

“You wouldn’t be,” Merlin assured him. “I’m definitely not seeing Vivien. We both have the same agent, he likes us to be seen out together, that’s all. She didn’t say one word to me in the limo on the way over to that premiere, and not one word on the way back either. Too interested in her phone. I’m nothing to her. It’s just good publicity for the film, apparently. I don’t really understand why. But I am single. You’d not be helping me cheat on anyone, least of all Vivien. Honestly Arthur, she’s horrible. Even if I was interested in women in that way, she’d be the last person in the world I’d want to date.”

“Okay,” Arthur took another sip of his wine. “But you aren’t ever seen out with men. I don’t do the closet, Merlin. I’m happy and comfortable with my sexuality.”

“So am I!” Merlin assured him. “It’s just this contract I’m signed into with my agent. I was young and stupid and I signed my life away, basically. I didn’t even read it properly myself. And now I have to do what he says.”

“Or else?”

“Yes, exactly.”

“No, I mean or else what? What happens if you don’t do what he says?”

“I’ll be sued for breach of contract.”

Arthur frowned. “Well if it’s not a great contract, perhaps that would be worth it?”

Merlin shook his head. “No. I wouldn’t be able to afford it. The… uh… my fee is mostly taken up with Cenred’s percentage and expenses. I’m not as wealthy as you’d expect after three successful blockbusters.”

“You’ve been ripped off then?” Arthur surmised.

Merlin nodded sadly. “Basically. I got a solicitor to look at it but apparently there aren’t any loopholes to exploit. I’m stuck with it until the day Cenred gets tired of me and drops me from his agency, which will be when I’m no longer making him any money. And even then there would be a chance he could take me back if I started to do well without him.”

“Did he make you take that stupid name?” Arthur asked. “Jace Tornado?”

“You’re funny. It’s Storm, not Tornado.”

“That’s not really any better though, is it?” Arthur teased. “Still sounds like a cartoon character!”

“I know. And yes, Cenred did make me use it. And he never puts me forward for anything that I might like to do, nothing that would stretch me as an actor. You’ll never see me at the RSC or at the National or even some tiny theatre in a back street that can only take an audience of about fifty people. Not enough profit in stage work, you see?”

Arthur nodded thoughtfully. “I do. Merlin, my family have a top law firm. I know Morgana, my sister, would be happy to take a look at the contract for you.”

“Thanks, but there’s no point. I’d never win a court case.”

“Don’t be so sure. My father, before he retired, used to boast proudly that he had never, ever lost a case. My sister is trying to take over from him. If there’s a loophole she’ll find it. Don’t ever tell her I said so, but she’s a brilliant lawyer. Nearly as brilliant as our father was. Not surprising really, he trained her.”

“So you took after your mother and Morgana took after your father.”

“Yes. Well, strictly Morgana’s my half-sister, she was from my father’s previous relationship, so she wouldn’t take after Mum,” Arthur allowed.

“That’s good though, isn’t it? My mum’s a teacher, and my dad has never been around, so I don’t think I take after either of them.”

“What does your mother think of you acting?” Arthur asked.

“She was supportive while I was studying but she’s not too keen on the fame thing. She has reporters turn up at her house and at work. It can be intrusive. Well, you saw what happened here, that first day I came in.”

Arthur laughed. “I never put two and two together. If only I’d known, the publicity for the shop would have been great! I could have got you to cut a ribbon or something!”

That was a problem, Merlin thought. There were always people who would just want to use him for his name. Arthur though, Merlin was certain, would not prove to be one of them. So he laughed along with Arthur.

“I’d do it! But you know Cenred would send you a bill for my time, so… it wouldn’t be such a good move.”

“This Cenred sounds a real piece of work,” Arthur mused. “Honestly, Merlin, he can’t control your life like this. We’re not living in the dark ages. What if we want to see each other again? At what point would you be forced to stop?”

Merlin shrugged. “I don’t know.” He looked down at the glass in his hand, suddenly shy. “This is the first time I’ve tried,” he added, taking a moment before he could look up and meet Arthur’s gaze again.

Arthur was watching him, a soft, fond expression on his face. “Really?”

“Yeah,” Merlin admitted. “It had to be someone I thought might be worth all the trouble.”

“Someone who accused you of being a shoplifter,” Arthur pointed out gently.

“Well, I knew you weren’t biased by thinking you were going to have a date with a film star.”

“I’m sure you fart and burp as well as the best of us,” Arthur grinned.

“I feel you’re probably better at that!”

“Cheeky! Although it’ll be true. My father has been trying to cook since he retired. The results are probably causing permanent damage to my digestive system!” Arthur told him. “Anyway,” he put his glass down on the counter, then took Merlin’s out of his hand and put it down next to it, “if we’re going to be forced apart after a few dates…”

“What?”

“I should do this,” Arthur said, and leaned in to kiss him.

It was a tender, exploratory kiss, with just the right hint of uncertainty at first, deepening when Merlin started to kiss Arthur back. Nothing like the fake, emotionless things Merlin had to endure on set. Arthur felt warm and real, someone Merlin thought he might want to kiss every day for the rest of his life.

“Okay?” Arthur asked gently as they broke away, and Merlin thought he loved him just a tiny bit for checking.

“I don’t know, you’d have to do it again so that I could be sure,” Merlin smiled.

So Arthur did.

---

In some ways it was a strange date, sitting together in a closed café at the back of a bookshop, shut off from the world, but in other ways it was the best first date Arthur had ever had.

With the mystery surrounding Merlin completely cleared up, and the knowledge that they both were on the same page, Arthur felt as if he could relax. In some ways it felt like the first time he’d been able to in a long, long time. There had been the stress and heartbreak over his mother’s illness, and then all his time had been taken up restarting the bookshop. Something as simple as a quiet date hadn’t been on the cards. And Merlin was such great company.

Arthur tried not to think about the mysterious Cenred and what would happen when he found out about them.

They ate takeaway Thai food from the restaurant around the corner, making good use of having the café to themselves. While Arthur had gone out to fetch dinner, Merlin had opened up a few more of the storage boxes and located plates and cutlery.

“Couldn’t find any tablecloths,” Merlin apologised as Arthur set down the takeaway bag. “Mmm… that smells good.”

“It’s the best Thai food in Camelot,” Arthur assured him as they sat down and started to dive into the boxes. Merlin was a vegetarian but that hadn’t made ordering a problem. There had been an impressive choice.

“I love it already,” Merlin assured him.

“Next time, I’ll bring candles and put some music on,” Arthur promised.

“So there’ll be a next time?” Merlin asked.

“I want to see you again,” Arthur stated. “Even though you dress up as a giant cat for a living.”

Merlin shrugged. “Well, as the cat, as the saying goes, is out of the bag now, you know we’ll get hassled if we try to go on regular dates? But I can come in here. And perhaps one day you could come with me back to Ealdor… that’s the village where my mum lives… and have dinner there? And there’s my flat but I wouldn’t want to presume…”

Arthur raised an eyebrow, both amused and pleased by all the suggestions. “Are you suggesting something improper, Mr Cat?”

“Never!”

“Well that’s disappointing!”

“Not on a first date anyway,” Merlin added.

They grinned at each other for a moment or two. Merlin really was cute, Arthur thought. He could see exactly how the other man would be so popular on the big screen.

“What?” Merlin asked.

“Dinner’s going cold,” Arthur said quickly, realising he’d been staring, and they went back to their meal.

The time flew by. They chatted about their families and their home life. Arthur talked about his plans for the shop, and showed Merlin the preliminary drawings that Leon had done for SuperBookShopMan. He was surprised to find that Merlin had already read the entire blog for the shop. Merlin talked about his time at stage school, about the way he’d wanted his career to go, about his frustrations at being trapped in a single role.

Arthur was shocked when he glanced at his watch and realised it was gone midnight already. They’d finished the wine, got well through a bottle that Arthur had picked up with the meal, and started taste testing the fancy coffees from the new machine.

“We need to clear up,” Arthur sighed. “The shop opens again in less than nine hours and there’s a reading group using the café tomorrow night.”

Merlin was no prima donna, and mucked straight in with the tidying up. It just made Arthur like him even more.

“Hope you’re not going to serve them dinner too,” Merlin told him. “That can’t go to just anyone!”

“They’ll get wine, coffee and the woman running the group is bringing homemade cakes,” Arthur assured him.

“Homemade?”

Arthur nodded. “It’s always a risk, but apparently Gwen’s are really good. We shall see. It’s a pity you’d cause a riot, you could have come in and tried them for yourself!”

Merlin shrugged. “My mate Lance says I should be wearing wigs and fake glasses instead of hats. Nobody ever recognises him. I could try it.”

“Is Lance famous too?”

Merlin laughed at that. “Lance Du Lac? Yes, just a bit. He played Cat’s best friend in the first two movies, and now he’s moved on to leading man status in serious movies. He does a lot of modelling as well.”

“Prima donna?”

“I wouldn’t hang out with him if he was. No, he’d love an evening like this where he could just relax and be himself. Our friend Gwaine says we’re both boring, but there you go.”

“Another actor?”

“Yes.”

“And is he a prima donna?”

“He’s a character. But no, Gwaine’s a good mate. We’d have got through an entire crate of wine if he was here though. We’d all be comatose. Your Elena would find us here in the morning, stinking the shop out!”

Arthur grimaced. “Elena’s going to get quite a shock when she finds out about you!”

“Yeah… can we keep that quiet? The longer we have before it gets back to Cenred the better. I mean, I’m sure she wouldn’t do anything deliberately, but you tell someone something, and they tell someone else… it gets around…”

“I know. You’ll just have to wear these disguises your friend suggested.”

Merlin smiled. “I might just do that. And then I can come in any time.”

That sounded good to Arthur.

---

The first reading group went well.

Merlin couldn’t resist turning up. Even though it had been less than a day he just wanted to see Arthur again. And Arthur wasn’t free for a date because of the sci fi reading thing. So Merlin decided to join them.

He sat at the back, a blond wig and glasses effectively disguising him without looking as if it was someone trying not to be seen. And, to his great surprise and delight, it actually worked.

Elena was there, dishing out wine to the dozen or so people who had turned up. She didn’t even blink an eyelid at Merlin, not recognising him at all. And there was Gwen, who was leading the group and who had brought several plates of sandwiches and cakes.

The food vanished remarkably fast. Merlin suspected that several of the group were there for the food rather than the content. And he didn’t blame them. Gwen was an excellent baker.

The group were reading some post-apocalyptic tome that Merlin hadn’t heard of, so he kept quiet. At least being new he could use that as an excuse, and dutifully picked up a copy of the next book on the list.

“I do hope we see you again, Merlin,” Gwen smiled at him after the session ended. “We’re always keen to see new faces in the group. Keeps it alive.”

“I’ll be back for your cakes,” Merlin grinned. “They’re really good. Arthur, you should sell them in your café!”

“I’d love to, if only I had someone to run the place,” Arthur sighed. “We used to have a small local catering company in here in my mother’s time, but they moved on while we were closed.”

Gwen looked interested. “What sort of thing were you looking for? My brother and I have a small patisserie business that we run from home. Elyan’s an amazing baker, I’m more the business side and an extra pair of hands. But we’re very good.”

“Really?” Arthur picked up one of the business cards that Gwen had left on the catering table. “Cakes by Leodegrance,” he read. “That sounds terribly upmarket.”

“We try!” Gwen smiled.

“We’d be looking for someone to cater cakes and light refreshments. Sandwiches and salads, perhaps some toasties?”

“We’d be interested in principle,” Gwen confirmed. “I could come in with Elyan later in the week and talk through the details.”

“Wait a minute. Elyan Leodegrance? Wasn’t he the runner up on Bake Off?” Merlin asked.

“He had a bit of a disaster in the final technical, but yes. He’s got a book deal and we’ve been trading off his name,” Gwen confirmed.

“He was amazing. And robbed, he should have won!” Merlin confirmed. “My bodyg… uh, my friend Percival was a big fan. He’ll be in here all the time if you take over the café.” He could see from Arthur’s expression that Arthur had no idea who Elyan was. “He’s a well-known baker. Very good publicity for the café. Sign them up!”

Arthur laughed. “I’m no good on famous names,” he told Gwen.

“Well, he’s hardly famous unless you watch Bake Off,” she allowed.

“Ah, that was what you were talking to my sister about the other day, wasn’t it? She loves that show.”

“She may have suggested I use this evening as a showcase for our work, yes,” Gwen admitted, laughing. “I like your sister.”

“Well, I won’t hold that against you,” Arthur told her. “Sometimes she has good ideas.”

Gwen nodded. “I hope so. I’ve always loved this place. Running the café would be a bit of a dream.”

“And Elyan could sell that book when he’s finished it,” Merlin added. “Signed copies. Perfect.”

“He could,” Arthur agreed.

“I’ll suggest it,” Gwen told them. “But you know,” Gwen frowned at Merlin, “you look sort of familiar too.”

“I just have one of those faces,” Merlin assured her. “I’ll… um… go and clear up the café for you, Arthur.”

He hurried off, leaving Arthur and Gwen to talk business.

---

A week or two passed. Everything was going smoothly. Too smoothly. Eventually, Arthur knew, Merlin was going to have to meet his family.

Morgana was curious. More than curious. Nosey, Arthur called it. But he could deal with her. What he couldn’t put off for more than one Sunday in a row was their father’s rather horrible cooking.

“I’ve got a challenge for you,” Merlin declared, striding up to the counter as Arthur was cashing up one evening.

“Hello, Merlin,” Arthur said, without looking up. He’d learnt not to do that when he was supposed to be concentrating. Merlin was distracting. “Just give me a minute to finish this.”

Merlin stood there, fidgeting, but he did at least keep quiet until Arthur completed what he was doing and looked up.

“Okay, here’s your challenge. My mate Will hates books. I need to find him one that he’ll actually read.”

Merlin had bought books as gifts for his entire family and friends group in the past week or so, Arthur was sure of it.

“What does he actually like?” Arthur asked.

“Football. Pubs. Pictures of women wearing hardly any clothes?” Merlin offered.

Arthur raised an eyebrow. “Perhaps you’d do better buying him a crate of beer and a subscription to Playboy?”

“But it’s a challenge!” Merlin whined. “There’s no fun in getting him beer, and I think he’s probably got a lifetime subscription to every girlie magazine going.”

“He sounds charming.”

“He’s okay really. But come on, what can I get him?”

“Beer. You don’t have to buy everyone a book,” Arthur told him. “This Will person won’t thank you.”

“True. Oh well. Only a few weeks till Christmas though, Arthur! I’ve put an order in with Gwen, they’re making those cute little gingerbread biscuits with the fancy icing. Everyone is getting a bag of them from me. Elyan’s doing a signed photo card on each one. The Bake Off fans are going to love it.”

“Is Will a Bake Off fan?”

“No, but he likes food. He’ll be happy. Oh! I need to get a tree at the weekend. I have to take it back to Mum’s, I promised. Are you free on Saturday?”

Arthur grimaced. The joys of working in retail in December. “It’s only a few Saturdays before Christmas. The shop’s going to be busy. What about the evening?”

Merlin shook his head. “I think the tree place shuts when it gets dark. It’s okay, I’ll sort it out. You could come over to join me at Mum’s after work if you’re not too tired?”

Arthur liked the sound of that. He hadn’t met Merlin’s mother yet but she sounded great from everything Merlin said. “It won’t be until about nine or so, though by the time we’ve shut up the shop and I’ve driven over there.”

“It’s okay, she’ll be pleased to meet you. I suppose you’re working Sunday as well?”

Arthur nodded. “We don’t open until 10 on Sundays, but yes. My weekends in December are blocked out, sorry.”

“At least you’ll be around for breakfast. She’ll understand.”

“Just hope she likes me!” Arthur said lightly, trying to hide just how much it would worry him if she didn’t. From what Merlin had said, he was quite close to his mother.

“Course she will!”

“I hope so. Anyway, on Sunday evening I’ll be having a family dinner with my father and sister. We’ve failed to convince him not to cook. Monday morning I’ll be in A&E, having my stomach pumped!”

“Cruel. Your poor dad.”

Arthur snorted, because that was a term he’d never have expected to be associated with the fierce father that he’d grown up with. But Uther Pendragon had changed since his wife became ill. Arthur loved his dad but he missed the fearsome streak that had made his father the most highly-respected and successful QC in the country.

“He’s a terrible cook. I’d invite you to come along, but your bodyguard would probably kill us all for putting your life at risk.”

Merlin’s bodyguard, Percival, had started accompanying him to the shop. Mostly he was accompanying him as far as Elyan and Gwen’s café and then wandering off to sample the cakes and chat to Elyan. Luckily, there was nobody in Ygraine’s who was likely to do Merlin in, so there wasn’t any real reason for Percival to be there. But he’d heard about the cakes (and met Elyan) and now they couldn’t keep him away.

“I’d take the risk,” Merlin told him. “I’d like to meet your family.”

“My sister will interrogate you,” Arthur warned.

“My friends want to interrogate you so it’s a fair swap.”

“I suppose these are the famous ones and not Will?”

“Oh no, Will has questions too. He won’t like you, you’re posh. But he doesn’t like anyone, so don’t worry. Anyway, he’s not around this weekend so you won’t see him. Lance and Gwaine, though, they’re plotting a time to visit the shop. Lance is fine, you’ll like him. Gwaine… is… well, he’s a great guy.”

It sounded ominous, Arthur thought. Still, it had to be done at some point. Assuming Merlin was still his boyfriend after Sunday evening.

“You could bring your contract along,” Arthur suggested. “Morgana could take a look for you?”

“Maybe next time,” Merlin agreed. “But honestly, Arthur, meeting your family for the first time will be nerve-wracking enough.”

Arthur knew the feeling.

---

Arthur lived in a mansion.

It wasn’t that Merlin had never been to a mansion before. Cenred’s was vast, paid for by Merlin and other poor suckers who hadn’t had the wit to read their contracts first. But Merlin didn’t really care whether Cenred liked him or not. Arthur’s family though, that was a different matter.

Merlin’s mother had adored Arthur, just as Merlin had known she would. As an English Literature teacher at the local school, she’d hugely approved of Arthur’s profession and vowed to visit the revamped shop as soon as she could. It had all gone very well.

But Merlin’s mother didn’t live in a huge mansion with separate apartments for her son. They probably had gardeners and cleaners, Merlin assumed, although he knew there was no cook. He’d read a little about Arthur’s father and sister online, which had done nothing to ease his concerns. They both sounded terrifying. There had been a video of Uther standing on the steps of a courtroom ranting furiously about moral standards and debauchery, having just won a massive victory.

Scary.

Uther greeted him with a smile and a handshake. The man was wearing an apron, heavily stained with what Merlin assumed was going to be their dinner. He was niceness itself, nothing like the person Merlin had seen in the video.

And then Arthur’s sister had descended on Merlin and swept him away to the dining room to pepper him with questions and ply him with drink. Like her father, she was as kind and pleasant as she could be, doing her best to put him at his ease. But she was definitely on a mission to find out anything she could about him.

“So, Arthur tells me you’ve got a problem with your agent?”

Merlin told her all he could about Cenred and the contract that he couldn’t get out of. Just as Arthur had said, Morgana was more than willing to look it over for him. Merlin regretted not bringing it with him, but it really hadn’t seemed right on a first meeting with his boyfriend’s family.

“I hope you’re not hungry,” Arthur told them, returning from the kitchen. “It’s really not looking good out there.”

“Our father’s cooking is legendary,” Morgana added. “I’m sure Arthur’s warned you?”

Merlin nodded, not wanting to say anything. Knowing his luck, if he did then Uther would overhear him and that scary man in the video would suddenly appear. And then Merlin wouldn’t need to worry about Cenred finding out about Arthur, because Merlin would have died of terror on the spot.

“You’re sitting with me,” Morgana declared. “I’ll look after you.”

She didn’t do the best job at first. Merlin found his plate piled high with charred chicken, vegetables that had been boiled to within an inch of their life, and hard potatoes. Merlin did his best, but…

“I see you’re avoiding the chicken,” Morgana noted. “Wise move. He’s a terrible cook, but he’s really been trying hard.”

“I’m a vegetarian,” Merlin whispered.

Morgana bit her lip worriedly, glancing up to where Uther was hovering between the kitchen and the dining room, bringing another bottle of wine out. She quickly speared Merlin’s chicken, wrapped it in her serviette and hid it under the table while Uther had his back to them. There was probably a risk it would soak through and stain her doubtless expensive designer jeans, but that didn’t appear to bother Morgana, who winked at him, smiling.

Merlin immediately decided that he liked Arthur’s sister very much despite the interrogation earlier.

“Sit down, Dad,” Arthur urged. “Eat your dinner. Morgana and I can fetch anything else.”

That didn’t stop Uther uncorking the wine Merlin had brought and refilling everyone’s glasses.

“I don’t want Merlin going home and telling his mother that we don’t have family dinners,” Uther told them.

“Merlin doesn’t live with his mum,” Arthur pointed out.

“I do talk to her on the phone most days though,” Merlin said. “And I’ll tell her how welcome you made me, Mr Pendragon.”

Uther looked pleased at that. “How’s the chicken?” he asked.

“Best chicken I ever tasted,” Merlin told him, truthfully.

Morgana watched him, her eyes soft. She had been kind, so he decided to do her a favour in return.

“You know, my mum’s a teacher. She’s really busy, never has time to cook. She always buys everything pre-prepared from the supermarket so that you just have to pop it in the oven.”

Uther looked very interested at that. Merlin realised that he probably knew how awful his own cooking was, and felt a bit sorry for him.

“It’s a real time saver, I do the same thing. Much easier than all the fancy recipes in those cook books. In fact Arthur doesn’t realise that the supposed gourmet meal I did for him last week was actually all from M&S Food.”

“I did realise,” Arthur told him. “I saw the trays in the recycling.”

“Damn.”

“It was really good though,” Arthur grinned, toasting Merlin with his wine glass.

“M&S Food, you say,” Uther mused. “Hmmm…”

Morgana reached out and squeezed Merlin’s hand gratefully.

He wasn’t entirely surprised the next day when a gift box of wine and chocolates from Morgana turned up on his doorstep.

---

Their peaceful, secret relationship couldn’t go undetected forever. Sure enough, the following Thursday they were outed and everything changed.

Some press photographer got a shot of Arthur going into Merlin’s flat on the Tuesday night, and leaving the following morning. It didn’t take long after that for the story to break and on the Thursday morning Ygraine’s was packed out with reporters. Or at least that was what it felt like even though there were probably only about half a dozen or so.

Arthur’s heart sank when he saw them.

“I’m not speaking to you,” Elena had texted Arthur before he arrived. “Just so you know.”

She was joking. Or at least he hoped she was. Despite her numerous celebrity crushes, Elena was very happy with Mithian and vice versa. But it had been her turn to open up that morning, and she’d had to deal with the initial enquiries. By the time Arthur got there she was looking fairly fed up.

He didn’t blame her.

Arthur got halfway across the shop before the reporters noticed he had arrived. Gwen and Elyan’s café was evidently doing good business out of them, at any rate. Most of them had takeaway cups in their hands with the Leodegrance logo printed on it.

“That’s him!” someone yelled, and suddenly Arthur found himself surrounded.

“Oi! Pendragon! You shagging Jace Storm?” one of the reporters called.

“No,” Arthur replied truthfully. “I know no person of that name.”

“He’s trying to be clever!” another reporter shouted. “Merlin Emrys! That’s Jace’s real name. You seeing him, Arthur?”

“No comment. Please leave my shop.”

“Has he split with Vivien?”

“Was he ever actually seeing Vivien?”

“Vivien’s devastated, how guilty do you feel about that?”

“No comment,” Arthur repeated, still trying to make his way across the shop. He wondered whether he could ring Merlin and borrow Percival for the day. Though that would probably just make things worse. “Now, can I interest you in a book? You know, as you’re all in a bookshop? We have a three for two offer on paperback novels at the moment. Perhaps it will inspire you all to make up some stories of your own? Oh, wait, too late.”

“Funny guy,” one of the reporters commented. “So, is that what won Jace’s heart? Your sense of humour?”

There wasn’t a lot that Arthur could do. He made it to the door to the staffroom and escaped inside for a few minutes. But he knew he couldn’t leave Elena out there by herself for long. He pulled a comb through his hair, checked his reflection in the mirror in the staff loo, straightened his glasses then took a deep breath before heading back out.

“Arthur, how long have you been seeing Jace?”

“Do you think you’ll get married?”

“Was it the leather costume that attracted you?”

“How did the two of you meet?”

Arthur tried to ignore them all. He stood behind the till with Elena, his expression apologetic. “I’m so sorry about this.”

She shrugged. “We’ll discuss it later. At least you came in. Leon’s hiding in the basement!”

That wasn’t a great surprise. Poor shy Leon was probably far more traumatised than Elena, Arthur guessed. Elena would just be biding her time, waiting for all the gossip.

“Does Jace ever come into the shop?”

Elena turned to look at Arthur, and he could see that she’d realised exactly when Merlin had visited the shop from the way her mouth had dropped open in surprise. A moment later she whacked him on the arm.

“You know what that’s for,” she hissed. Then she turned and smiled brightly at the reporters, who were all looking at her with sudden interest. “So, what are you all here to buy?”

“We’ll buy your story, love, if you know anything about Jace and Arthur.”

“I know nothing. I can show you my pictures from the premiere of Cat III the other week though. That was fun.”

“Is Arthur in them?”

“Of course not. Jace is marrying me, I’ve been planning our wedding for years!”

Some of them did at least laugh at that. Arthur stood back and let Elena tease them with increasingly ridiculous stories for a few minutes, hugely grateful to her for being a good friend. Merlin was definitely going to need to dig out some rare film memorabilia for her or something as a thank you.

“Enough of this crap,” one of the journalists, a hard-faced man who hadn’t smiled once during Elena’s tales, stepped forward. “Pendragon, let’s talk money. What’s it worth to spill the beans?”

“No comment,” Arthur said once more. “And I’m trying to run a business here. If you’re not genuine customers then I have to respectfully ask that you all leave.”

“Make us,” the reporter snorted. “We’re browsing.”

“You’re putting our customers off.” Out of the corner of his eye Arthur could see his father coming into the shop. The last thing he wanted was for his already stressed parent to see the media circus that Arthur’s life had suddenly become.

“Please leave,” Arthur requested again.

“Tell us about you and Jace. Who tops?”

Uther heard that. He looked up and strode over to the group of journalists, face like thunder.

“Oooh…” Elena squeaked, and hid behind Arthur.

“What on earth is going on here?” Uther demanded.

For the most part that silenced everyone. Arthur belatedly realised that the majority of the reporters had probably encountered Uther in the past during some high profile case or other.

“Arthur here’s shagging Jace Storm!” Someone who clearly had no idea who he was talking to piped up cheerfully.

“Hearsay,” Uther declared. “Possibly slander. Infringement on privacy. Obstruction of business. Under clause three of the Editors’ Code of Practice reporters must not persist in questioning, telephoning, pursuing or photographing individuals once asked to desist; nor should they remain on property when asked to leave. Arthur has asked you to leave.”

“Piss off,” the reporter grumbled. “Like anyone listens to that.”

Uther settled his gaze on the man. “Do you know who I am?”

The journalist’s smile faded a little. “No…”

“It’s Uther Pendragon,” one of the other reporters hissed. “Pendragon & Gorlois. You know, never lost a case? He got half a million from my paper a few years back.”

“Unless you think your bosses will enjoy losing another harassment case to me, you’ll all leave. Immediately. And you will not bother my son again.”

It was surprising how fast the shop cleared. Uther looked around, apparently satisfied that all was well, and headed towards the café.

“Thanks, Dad!” Arthur called.

Uther just waved to him, smiling as he headed for Elyan’s delicious cakes.

“He enjoyed that!” Elena grinned. “He’s scary when he wants to be, isn’t he?”

Arthur shrugged. “You get used to it.” But it had been good to see. Perhaps his father would go back to work soon. The fire was clearly still there. It just needed the right spark to light it.

“Anyway, never mind that,” Elena ordered. “I want to hear everything. And we’ll start with you sending me off to hunt for Jace when he was right here in our bookshop the whole time!”

“To be fair, at the time I didn’t know who he was,” Arthur offered.

From the way Elena narrowed her eyes at him he doubted he was going to be believed.

Which was a shame, because it was the truth.

---

Merlin had been hiding in his flat all day.

If he didn’t go outside then the reporters couldn’t get hold of him. If they couldn’t get hold of him then he wouldn’t have to lie to them. Arthur, he knew, would be hurt if Merlin denied their relationship in public, even though he would know why Merlin would have done it.

Better to stay indoors until the gossip press moved on to a new story. It wouldn’t take long, he was sure of that.

Perhaps it would have worked. But mid-morning Cenred turned up, furious.

“You’re not answering your phone!” Cenred accused by way of greeting, barging past him and striding into his hallway.

“The press have been calling,” Merlin explained.

“Of course they have! You idiot, you know you aren’t allowed any sort of relationship that isn’t pre-approved by me. And some nobody bookseller? What were you thinking? Jesus, if you must go for a bloke, what’s wrong with shagging Gwaine or someone with a bit of a profile?”

“I like Arthur,” Merlin replied. “And as for Gwaine, he’s a friend, so no.”

“Dating some pleb from nowhere is a no. Dump him. Call him now, tell him it’s finished. And then you’re going to be seen out on Saturday with Vivien, looking as apologetic as you should be!”

“No,” Merlin told him. “I’m staying with Arthur. And I loathe Vivien. I’m not spending any more of my time with her. You like her so much, you take her out.”

Cenred narrowed his eyes, evidently not liking the backchat. Merlin had never really dared do it before. But he wasn’t going to give Arthur up. Arthur meant too much to him.

“You know the rules, Jace.”

“My name is Merlin, as you know. Jace is just a stupid stage name you’ve given me.”

“A name that has made you famous, successful…”

“And made you rich,” Merlin added. “I do everything else you ask. Let me at least have my personal life the way I want it. It’s not going to affect my ability to work.”

Cenred scowled at him. “That’s what you think! I’ve already had a couple of sponsors on the phone this morning not happy with this development.”

“Then get some sponsors who aren’t homophobic,” Merlin suggested. “Come on, it doesn’t matter who I see, does it?”

“They’re talking about an incident at the start of Cat IV where you get injected with something to change your appearance,” Cenred warned. “So yes, it does matter. And I’ll sue you for loss of earnings if that happens. You’ll lose everything. You’ll be in debt for the rest of your life. And you’ll never work again because you’ll still be tied into our contract. You’ll be a financial drain on this bookseller of yours. He’ll soon get fed up with that. So. What’s it to be?”

Merlin wanted to be defiant, he really did. But the thought of Arthur eventually getting tired of him, of Merlin just being a waste of space, unable to work at all… it wasn’t what he wanted from their future.

“I’ll talk to him,” Merlin sighed.

“And tell him you won’t be seeing him again,” Cenred finished for him. “I wouldn’t want your mother to have to remortgage her house to bail you out. So you’ll finish with him. Yes?”

Merlin nodded, miserably.

Cenred slapped him on the back, pleased to have got his own way. “That’s my boy!”

“I’ll go and see him tonight,” Merlin agreed reluctantly.

---

It was definitely turning out to be a strange day, Arthur thought.

Elena had decided that she was speaking to him again, which was not as great as it could have been because every other sentence out of her mouth was related to Merlin in some way. Gwen and Elyan had reported record takings in the café, almost as if there was some huge new attraction to tempt everyone inside, though it was starting to thin out a bit. Leon was hiding in the basement, though that was nothing new.

And then, late in the afternoon, the two most handsome men in the entire world appeared to have arrived in Arthur’s shop. They made no pretence of being interested in any books and instead headed straight for Arthur.

“I’m Lance,” Lance Du Lac, CAFTA nominee and lead in the new Sunday night period drama told him, holding out a hand for Arthur to shake.

Arthur tried to ignore the goldfish impression that Elena was busy perfecting at his side, and shook Lance’s hand. “Good to meet you.”

“And I’m Gwaine.” Arthur didn’t actually recognise Gwaine’s extremely handsome face, but the man looked very much how Merlin had described him. “Percival told us where to come and find you.”

Arthur supposed that given all the media interest, Percival was off somewhere actually doing his job and protecting Merlin instead of doing what he often did and sitting in the café eating Elyan’s cakes.

“That was good of him.”

“Yes,” Gwaine agreed. “Our agent, Cenred, sent us over to make sure that you and Merlin split up. He suspects that Merlin won’t dump you, even though he’s ordered him to.”

“I’ll look forward to that,” Arthur commented drily.

“However, we’re very fond of our friend and you seem to be making him happy, so we’re sounding you out first.”

“What?”

“Lance and I are here to ascertain your intentions with regards to Merlin,” Gwaine explained. “If you’re going to break his heart then we need to know so that we can be supportive and pour many bottles of whisky down his throat. And if you’re going to fight for him then we’re here to offer our support against Cenred. Because Merlin’s our buddy and we’re his truest friends.”

“Also we aren’t signed into a contract that stops us working ever again if we defy Cenred,” Lance added quickly.

“And Cenred is being a total shit over this,” Gwaine added.

Arthur glanced over at the door. There were one or two reporters still lurking outside though they didn’t dare come in. Such was the fear his father could instil in them even when he wasn’t actually there. It was hard not to look smug and wave, though he knew they’d take a picture if he did and it would wind up in the paper.

“Merlin’s not with you?”

“No,” Lance confirmed. “We thought he might be here so we raced over to stop him doing anything stupid.”

“Unless you turned out to be a complete jerk in which case we’d cheer him on,” Gwaine added. “You do sound posh. Are you a jerk?”

Arthur gave him a long hard stare in response to that.

“Ignore Gwaine,” Lance advised. “Do you mind if we wait? Merlin’s bound to show up soon. He seems really happy with you. We just want to stop him doing anything he’ll regret.”

Arthur pointed towards Leodegrance’s. “Best coffee and cake in town.”

“As long as it’s Irish coffee,” Gwaine muttered. “Can’t believe it’s early evening and I’m having coffee.”

Lance, who was definitely Arthur’s Preferred Friend Of Merlin already, just laughed and guided Gwaine towards the café.

“Oh, my God!” Elena exclaimed as soon as they were out of earshot. “Arthur! Do you know who that was?”

“Lance and Gwaine, Merlin’s friends,” Arthur confirmed, taking out his phone to message Merlin.

“Lance Du Lac and Gwaine Greene! Yes!” she punched the air in delight. “I can’t believe today has happened. Wait till I get home tonight and tell Mith.”

Elena had been texting all day so Arthur thought Mithian more than likely would know long before Elena got home.

“Well, I’m glad my love life has entertained you,” he murmured.

Merlin didn’t reply to the message. Arthur wondered whether he would actually turn up at the shop, or whether there would simply be a single text stating it was over. He didn’t think it would be the latter. Merlin was better than that.

“I’m really thirsty,” Elena commented after about five minutes, which Arthur thought was remarkably restrained of her in the circumstances. “I think I’ll get a coffee. Do you want one?”

Arthur shook his head. He knew that coffee would be stone cold by the time he got it because Elena would take her time, lingering in the café thinking excuses to talk to Gwaine and Lance.

He was not wrong.

When Morgana appeared nearly an hour later Elena had still not returned from the café even though it was close to closing time and she should be covering while Arthur started to cash up.

Morgana was carrying a few posh shopping bags with festive designs on them. They looked as if they were from clothes shops. Arthur supposed they were almost certainly early Christmas gifts that Morgana had bought herself. It was what usually happened, although she never failed to find something quite perfect for all her family on the big day. Even if what she considered perfect for Arthur was usually accompanied by something super-annoying.

“Are my Christmas presents in there?” Arthur asked by way of greeting when Morgana swished her way to his side.

“Yes. This year you’ll be getting a pair of Louboutin’s, a new bra and the most gorgeous green silk top. I’ve also made a list with links and emailed it to you and Dad.”

“We might want to get you a surprise,” Arthur warned.

“Please don’t. Or, if you must then include the receipt.”

She wasn’t joking, Arthur knew. But he thought he might pop into Primark and get her some Bridget Jones knickers in a horrible shade of beige just to annoy her.

Morgana had other things on her mind though. “Now,” she said, “never mind about all that. What about your little surprise? Do you really crave attention so much that you had to be all over the papers this morning?”

Arthur shrugged, although it had been one of the worst things ever. “Dad threatened them and they’re staying outside now.”

“Shame,” Morgana glanced back at the lone reporter still hanging around. “That might have been the catalyst that brought him back to work. You know how he’s still on a mission to respect Mum’s wishes and become the perfect parent? We could have lured him back with the promise of a court case.”

Arthur nodded, though he supposed it still might happen. “Give it time. He’ll get bored and go back to work, I’m sure of it.”

Morgana didn’t look convinced. “I could do with him back, to be honest. None of the other lawyers are cut-throat enough.”

“Surely you are,” Arthur pointed out drily.

Morgana glared at him. “Other than me, obviously. No, we’re starting to lose a few cases. I can’t be everywhere. Our competitors are smelling blood. Remember Aredian?”

Arthur had vague memories of their father ranting about someone of that name in the past. “Yes.”

“He ripped Morgause’s defence to pieces last week. We lost the case, and there were rumours of bribery but we can’t prove it.”

“Morgause?” Morgana’s deputy had always seemed pretty scary to Arthur.

“No, two of the key witnesses. Dad needs to stop sitting around in your café dreaming out of the window, and start doing battle in the courtroom again. Is he in there now?”

Arthur shook his head. “He went home a few hours back.”

“Fine. Well, I’ll go and see Gwen, anyway. Her brother’s baking is to die for. Good move having them take over the café.”

She marched off before Arthur could warn her about the special visitors. But then he supposed Morgana could not only cope, she’d probably start dating the pair of them. If she wasn’t already dating Gwen. Arthur could never keep up with his sister’s love life.

“Tell Elena I pay her to work!” he called after Morgana. “Might like to see her on the shop floor sometimes!”

Morgana just waved and carried on.

Either she passed the message on, or more likely Elena heard him. Anyway, Elena appeared a few moments later, flushed and grinning from ear to ear.

“Sorry! Lance is really nice and Gwaine is so funny! And… Oh! It’s him!”

Arthur followed her gaze to where Merlin had just come into the shop, Percival in tow. The lone reporter outside was frantically snapping pictures through the window, clearly desperate to come in. A moment later he gave in, coming through the doors of the shop.

“Out!” Arthur called. “Unless you want a lawsuit!”

The reporter scuttled away. Though he would have photos, Arthur thought.

“I thought you’d be closing soon,” Merlin told him. “Sorry, I should have waited.” He glanced at Elena, offering her a friendly smile and holding out his hand. “Hi, you must be Elena. I’m Merlin.”

Elena stared at Merlin, then looked down at his hand, then stared at him again.

“Hello!” she squeaked.

“Elena’s been talking to your friends Lance and Gwaine for the past hour or so,” Arthur explained. “Now she’s going to help me close up the shop. Aren’t you, Elena?” he added pointedly.

“Yes!” Elena agreed, smiling widely at Merlin and not moving at all.

“Oh God, it’s pathetic,” Arthur muttered, and went over to change the sign on the door to ‘closed’. He tried to ignore the journalist outside as he did so.

“I saw your film,” Elena managed as Arthur headed back to the till.

“Sorry about that,” Merlin told her. “I promise one day I’ll be in something decent.”

“Oh no! I love Cat! He’s so cool! Scritch scratch!” Elena did an impression of Cat’s signature move. It was actually a bit ridiculous, Arthur thought.

“Can you stand by the door and let the last customers out please, Elena,” Arthur instructed. “Merlin will still be here when we’ve closed. If you’re a good little shop assistant I’ll ask him to pose for a selfie with you and sign a postcard or something.”

“Gwaine signed my knickers.”

“Oh my God,” Merlin groaned, facepalming. “I am so sorry about him.”

“My girlfriend is going to be so jealous!”

“Door, Elena,” Arthur reminded her.

Reluctantly Elena did as she was asked.

“I won’t be long,” Arthur assured Merlin. “I just have to cash up. You could get a coffee with your friends, if you like?”

“Great idea,” Percival piped up. “Is Elyan in?”

Arthur nodded. “The café should be shut by now but my sister’s in there, along with Merlin’s friends so you should be okay.”

Percival grinned widely. “Great! Come on, Merlin.”

“I just want a word with Arthur,” Merlin told him. “You go on.”

“You’re not going to get attacked or shot or anything if I leave?” Percival checked.

“I’ll protect him,” Arthur promised. “SuperBookShopMan, that’s me!”

Percival looked slightly puzzled but headed off to the café anyway.

“I do need to concentrate,” Arthur warned. “I won’t be very chatty while I’m doing this. Go and talk to Gwaine, stop him signing any more of my staff’s underwear. Leon will probably die of fright if they meet!”

“I’m good here,” Merlin assured him, perching on the edge of the nearest display table, waiting patiently.

Arthur smiled, and carried on with his work. It was good, after the manic morning he’d had, to be able to do something routine and peaceful. And that Merlin respected his work enough to just wait for him to finish.

By the time Elena had let the last customer out and dimmed the lights, Arthur was almost done. He wasn’t particularly surprised when Elena headed for the café rather than leaving. There was quite a lot of talking and laughing coming from there. Even Leon had headed in to have a look. He hadn’t emerged yet.

“All done,” Arthur announced finally. “That was a good day for a Thursday. Clearly, having my face splashed across the papers is good for business.”

Merlin gave him a sad little smile. “I’m so sorry about that.”

“Don’t worry. We knew it would happen eventually. So, how was your day?”

Merlin looked down at his feet, then back at Arthur. He was giving an air of being utterly miserable, Arthur realised.

“What’s wrong?”

“Cenred came to see me this morning. He’s not happy about you and I.”

Arthur shrugged. “Tough. It’s all over the papers now, there’s no denying that we’re an item. He’ll have to deal with it. The world hasn’t ended.”

“Actually it sort of did,” Merlin told him. “For me, anyway.”

Arthur froze, not liking the sound of that. “What do you mean? Are you okay?”

Merlin shook his head. “Cenred says I have to break up with you.”

“Er, no. That’s not happening. Who does he think he is?”

“My agent. He says he’ll sue me for breach of contract if I don’t stop seeing you.”

“We’re not breaking up,” Arthur insisted. “That’s the most ridiculous thing I ever heard. It can’t be legal.”

“It’s in my contract,” Merlin told him.

“That bloody contract! Have you got a copy anywhere?”

Merlin shrugged. “At home… oh, I have it on an email! Cenred sent me a copy as a reminder earlier.”

“Useful of him,” Arthur stated. “Pull it up, Morgana’s in the café, she can have a look at it for you. Come on.”

Merlin frowned. “I’ve already had a legal firm look at it,” he protested. “There’s nothing anyone can do.”

“Was that legal firm Pendragon & Gorlois?” Arthur asked, knowing full well that it wasn’t from their previous discussion on the subject.

“No.”

“Then come and meet my sister.”

Reluctantly Merlin followed him into the café.

“Merlin!” Gwaine yelled as soon as they appeared. “Buddy! Can we go to the pub now?”

“You go if you want to,” Arthur told him, though Gwaine seemed perfectly happy where he was, Elena and Leon on either side of him.

Lance, Gwen and Morgana were at the next table, probably keeping a safe distance. Percival was over by the coffee machine with Elyan, neither of them appearing to be particularly interested in anyone else in the room.

“I’m good thanks,” Gwaine told him, patting Leon’s knee with one hand and putting his other arm round Elena. Disturbingly, both of them giggled. Arthur didn’t know that Leon could giggle. Leon also looked a bit flushed and dishevelled. Arthur hoped Gwaine hadn’t signed his underpants too.

“Gwaine signed Leon’s pants too!” Elena whispered. Except it wasn’t a whisper at all and everyone heard her.

“Oh, God,” Morgana groaned. “Who wears tightie whities? My eyes!”

Leon blushed, then more when Gwaine pinched his arse.

“Nice place you’ve got here, mate,” Gwaine told Arthur. “Tasty buns in this café!”

“The café is Elyan and Gwen’s,” Arthur told him. “But thank you.” He turned to his sister, desperate to avoid whatever Gwaine might do next. “Morgana, have you met Merlin?”

“You know full well that I have,” Morgana told him. “Merlin, lovely to see you again. About time my little brother had a regular shag. I was getting worried about him.”

“Morgana!” Arthur growled, but Merlin laughed and sat down next to Morgana, who beamed fondly at him.

“You’re already my favourite of Arthur’s boyfriends,” Morgana declared. “You’re adorable and you have the most delightful friends.”

“That’s me,” Gwaine put in.

Arthur rolled his eyes. He felt sure he’d be doing that a lot around Gwaine. “Morgs, Merlin needs your help,” he told his sister. “The idiot’s signed his life away and his agent’s taking him for everything he’s got.”

“Oh, the contract from hell,” Morgana said. “I’ve heard about this. I want to see it, Merlin. Pendragon and Gorlois love things like that. Wonderfully high profile case, famous actor being ripped off…”

“Famous actor being ordered to dump his boyfriend because his contract says he can only date women,” Arthur added.

“No!” Morgana gazed at Merlin as if he were a particularly juicy treat. “That’s perfect!”

“Not from where I’m standing,” Arthur grumbled.

“Oh no, I mean it’s just the sort of thing… oh, we’re going to rip him to pieces! Merlin, do you have a copy of this contract?”

“It’s on my phone,” Merlin told her.

 “Yes! Ooh, give it to me!” She made grabby hands towards Merlin’s phone, then snatched it and started scrolling through the email attachment he’d handed over. “Oh, this is amazing… This is just what I’ve been looking for. Merlin, you’re the most perfect client ever! I adore you!”

 “You can take Cenred to court?” Arthur asked.

“Oh no,” Morgana smiled wickedly. “I’ve got a much better idea…”

---

Morgana’s idea involved another Sunday dinner.

Merlin wasn’t quite sure why she wanted him to come over again, but he did as he was instructed. Morgana tended to have that affect, he supposed. He could imagine that she would be terrifying in the courtroom.

“I’ve gone with your suggestion,” Uther told him by way of greeting when he arrived. “M&S pre-prepared food. It was certainly a lot easier.”

“Mum swears by it,” Merlin replied, handing over the wine he’d brought. The aroma from the kitchen was considerably more appetising than it had been the last time he was there. It was exactly what had happened at his own home.

“She sounds an extremely practical woman. You should bring her with you next time. It isn’t fair of me to take up so many of her son’s weekends.”

It had only been two, but Merlin just nodded agreement. He supposed Arthur’s father, although friendly enough, wasn’t the sort of person to take no for an answer. Besides, his mother already adored Arthur and would be perfectly happy to come over.

“Good, good.” Something started beeping in the kitchen, and Uther hurried off.

“I’ll never get used to him trying to cook,” Arthur muttered. “Stomach pumps at the ready, Merlin.”

But in fact the meal was fine. The roast potatoes were a little burnt but still perfectly edible. And Merlin had a lump of cold cheese on his plate instead of the chicken everyone else was eating. It looked a little odd but Merlin quickly chopped it up and mashed it into his potatoes, so it was soon something pretty tasty.

“I think that was the best meal you’ve cooked,” Morgana commented afterwards, and Arthur agreed heartily.

“It was very good, thank you Mr Pendragon,” Merlin added.

“All down to Merlin’s mother’s suggestion,” Uther allowed.

“Yes, it’ll be very sad if Merlin and Arthur have to split up,” Morgana replied. “Imagine all the future ideas we’ll miss out on.”

“What?” Uther looked from Arthur to Merlin. “You’re splitting up? What is this?”

“We don’t want to,” Arthur told him. “But Merlin’s agent made him sign a contract, and Merlin can’t get out of it.”

“And part of the contract is about who I date.”

Uther frowned at him, and Merlin tried not to cower because actually that frown was quite formidable. “Your agent thinks that my son isn’t good enough for you?”

“Pretty much,” Arthur put in.

“Well then tear up the contract.”

Merlin shook his head. “I can’t. I’m tied in. And the contract’s watertight. I had a lawyer look at it, there’s no way out.”

“No contract is ever completely watertight,” Uther told him. “I would be happy to look at it for you.” He held his hand out expectantly.

Merlin went to the hall and got the printed version of the contract out of his bag, then came back and handed it over. He glanced worriedly at Arthur who nodded encouragingly at him.

“I’ve looked at it already,” Morgana put in, widening her eyes as she gazed at Uther seemingly helplessly. “I can’t see any way out of it for poor Merlin.”

“There are always ways out,” Uther insisted, scanning the first page, then flipping over to the next page. “Even if every angle has apparently been covered there’s a way. Oh, Morgana, surely you saw this?” he jabbed his finger at a paragraph on page three.

“What?” she asked innocently. “Oh! Yes, you’re right!” She looked around the table at all of them. “This is because I’m being stretched too thinly. We really need more high-quality lawyers. Especially for this case.”

Honestly, Merlin wondered if she’d missed her vocation. She would have made a fine actress.

“I can’t believe you missed this, Morgana,” Uther told her, still reading through the contract.

“I must be slipping. You know, I heard Cenred is one of Aredian’s clients. You’ll have heard about Morgause’s defeat…”

“I did.” Uther paused for a moment, looking pained, then continued reading. “We can’t have that happen again.”

“I agree. You’ll just have to come back to the firm as a consultant to make sure we beat him,” Morgana continued. “Clearly you have an affinity with this particular case. And you want Arthur to be happy, don’t you? He’s happy with Merlin.”

Uther narrowed his eyes at her.

“You didn’t miss this at all, did you?” Uther accused, pointing at the contract. “I know you didn’t, I trained you better than that.”

Morgana shrugged, unrepentant. “You trained me to manipulate people. Be proud. Anyway, you need to take Merlin’s case,” she told him. “It’s what Mum would have wanted you to do,” she added, playing her trump card. “You know it is.”

“We can hire a housekeeper,” Arthur added.

Uther regarded them both steadily for a few minutes. And then he carried on reading through Merlin’s contract, a small smile playing about his lips.

---

The case did not go to court in the end. It did move along remarkably fast though once Uther took it on.

Just one week later, Merlin and Arthur were summoned to Pendragon & Gorlois, along with Cenred and his lawyer.

Afterwards, Merlin wasn’t quite sure what had happened. But he was no longer contracted to Cenred, and would be free to find a new agent. Uther was also threatening to look at the rest of Cenred’s contracts. Vivien Olaf had apparently already been in touch.

“Your dad’s really scary!” Merlin whispered to Arthur as they walked out of the building. He was still shocked by the raging, self-righteous man Uther had become. “He was amazing! He just ripped Cenred a new one! What happened to the nice bloke who couldn’t cook?”

“The nice bloke was some sort of anomaly. The man you just met? That is my dad!” Arthur told him.

Merlin blinked. He thought he might be in some kind of shock.

But he was free of Cenred.

It was a wonderful feeling. And he really didn’t care about the flashes going off from those wretched reporters while he kissed Arthur in broad daylight.

Free.

---

It shouldn’t have been a happy Christmas, Arthur thought. Not the first one without his mother. And of course all three remaining Pendragons felt Ygraine’s loss keenly.

Still, they made the best of it.

Merlin, his mother and his Uncle Gaius coming to stay over the holiday period helped. Arthur knew that none of them would have realised it, and Hunith in particular was worried that she was imposing, but having them there meant something else to concentrate on.

Alice, the Pendragon’s new housekeeper, was a treasure. She could cook and the house had never been so spotlessly clean. Again, that helped ease what could have been a difficult time.

Uther had returned to work permanently, and it was as if he had never left. They were back to the days when he worked all hours, but Arthur knew he was happier for it. Also there was the distinct advantage that Merlin and Arthur quite often had the house to themselves.

Merlin had lost his job as The Cat. It had been too much Cenred’s production, and so a new actor would be taking over the role. Merlin was fine with that, although much of his fanbase was distraught. Annis Adams, his new agent, (the contract checked and double-checked by Morgana and Uther before Merlin signed) was trying to find him some stage work. Arthur knew he’d had some auditions the week before Christmas, but so far there had been no news as to how Merlin had done. Gwaine and Lance were moving over to Annis’ agency as well. Arthur wondered whether Cenred had any clients left.

And it was Merlin who was looking for the work. He’d successfully applied to change his name on Spotlight and Equity, and was looking to start again as Merlin Emrys. It wouldn’t be entirely starting over; despite the name change, audiences would still know who he was.

Understandably, he was having trouble convincing casting directors that he was a serious actor, but Arthur was confident Merlin would manage it in time. Annis claimed they could make it an advantage, particularly as Merlin could actually act. Apparently, people liked to see film and TV stars on stage.

Finally, the news Merlin and Arthur had been waiting for came through. They were all sitting around, full of a delicious Christmas dinner, when Merlin’s phone rang and he went out in the hall to take the call.

“It’s my agent,” he explained as he left the room.

“No working at Christmas!” Morgana called but Merlin just smiled and hurried off.

He was gone for a long time. When he eventually returned, he didn’t even try to hide the huge smile on his face.

“Well?” Arthur asked quietly, taking him to one side although he didn’t think it could be bad news.

“Well… I was wondering,” Merlin asked, “whether you fancied coming to a premiere with me for my next job.”

Arthur narrowed his eyes. “Cameras and red carpets?”

“Not exactly. Thespians aren’t so keen on those. It’s more of a press night.”

“Thespians?” Arthur raised an eyebrow, but he had a smile playing about his lips. “Thespians, Merlin? Is that not a rather redundant term for anyone playing a cat-suited superhero?”

“Not when they’ve landed a role at the RSC!” Merlin crowed loud enough for everyone to hear.

Arthur picked him up in a bear hug, lifting him slightly off his feet.

“That’s brilliant!” Morgana cried.

“Well done, Merlin!” his mother called.

“Yes, finally I can admit to knowing you,” Gaius told him.

“The RSC though!” Arthur exclaimed. “Wait… not the theatre that’s based in Stratford?”

“It’s the Barbican, don’t worry,” Merlin assured him. “But it might move to Stratford if it does well. Or it might tour.”

“What’s the play?” Gaius asked.

“Henry IV,” Merlin told him. “I got Hotspur!”

“Not Prince Hal?” Arthur asked.

“I didn’t go for Hal. Hotspur’s the better part. Hotspur wins awards. You know Olivier played Hotspur, not Hal?”

“Ah, you think you’re the next Olivier, don’t you?” Arthur teased.

“Let me dream my dreams!”

“Yes, and I’ll dream mine. Does this mean you’ll be doing sword-fighting and prancing around in tight leather britches and billowing white shirts?”

“Maybe. I haven’t seen the costume yet,” Merlin told him. “It might be modern dress or something.”

“Dreams, Merlin,” Arthur reminded him, snuggling close. “Let me keep them.”

Merlin smiled, leaning in for a kiss.

Morgana coughed loudly and theatrically. “Please,” she begged. “Enough with the PDA. My dinner’s still going down. And it’s presents time anyway.”

Arthur reluctantly let go of his boyfriend, and settled down with him on one of the two sofas, waiting to be handed presents.

“Morgana loves Christmas,” Arthur explained as his sister began to distribute the gifts from around the tree. “She had three of those expensive beauty advent calendars in the weeks leading up to today. One was over three hundred pounds. Ridiculous.”

“I had one with chocolates in it,” Merlin admitted. “It was two quid in Tesco. Arthur ate half the chocolates,” he added to the room in general.

“You’re lucky it was only half of them,” Morgana told him. “Once when we were children he opened up all the doors on my calendar and ate every single chocolate, then closed the doors again so that you couldn’t tell.”

“Mum bought you two more calendars to make up for it,” Arthur pointed out.

“I’m just warning Merlin of the perils of you and advent calendars,” Morgana replied, handing over another pile of gifts. “He still has time to escape.”

“I don’t,” Merlin whispered, leaning close. “Far too late for me.”

Arthur gazed at him, fond, not caring how smitten he looked. “Me too,” he whispered back, then kissed his boyfriend just in case there was any doubt.

There was a scream from across the room. Arthur and Merlin pulled apart guiltily, but it was nothing to do with their PDA.

Arthur smirked delightedly as Morgana held up the truly horrible royal blue and bright yellow polyester sequined jumper that Arthur had ordered from Damart.

“To warm your cold heart as you ride around on your broom,” she read on the tag.

“Arthur!” Uther frowned at him.

In his defence Arthur held up an exquisitely wrapped gift to himself from Morgana. “To my sad loser of a brother who definitely needs this before Merlin gets fed up and dumps him,” he read. Ripping the paper off he found a book. “Dating for Nerds: How to woo and win your love.”

Merlin snorted with laughter, then tried to pretend he was having a coughing fit.

“I’m thankful I only have the one child,” Hunith told Uther sympathetically. Which was a bit of a cheek, really, Arthur thought, it wasn’t his fault that Morgana was cruel and… ah, he did give her a joke present too. Perhaps Hunith had a point.

(He did slightly regret his gift the following Christmas when Morgana gave him some incontinence pads “Because you’re so funny you must be wetting yourself” and Merlin laughed so hard at his by then fiancée’s expression that Arthur thought the pads might come in handy after all. But that’s another story.)

---

Merlin couldn’t remember a Christmas that he’d enjoyed more. His little family were loving it too, although his mum was worrying a bit about how she would ever compete should she have to return the favour in the future.

Merlin hoped that if and when that situation arose, he would at least be solvent enough to help her out. But he doubted it would. The Pendragons were strange but welcoming and had a huge home. It made sense to hold Christmas there. And at least Uther wasn’t trying to poison them any more.

At the end of the day Merlin was finally alone with Arthur, up in Arthur’s bedroom at the back of the house. Tired but happy, they climbed into bed.

“So, I got you one more present,” Arthur told Merlin, reaching under his pillow and pulling out a gift. “It’s a book.”

Merlin could see that from the shape of it. And it was bound to be, coming from Arthur. He carefully opened it, not wanting to spoil the gorgeous black and gold paper.

“It’s a special edition,” Arthur explained as the book was revealed. “Illustrated complete works of Shakespeare. In anticipation of all these great roles you’re going to play.”

“It’s gorgeous,” Merlin breathed, carefully opening it up. There was a painting of a particularly ethereal Ariel on the first page, all blues and greens.

“Not really suitable for annotating, I suppose. But it came in the other week and I thought you’d like it,” Arthur told him.

“Yes, we’ll get a paperback version that I’ll annotate to death,” Merlin confirmed, still looking through it. “But this is the perfect gift, Arthur. I can keep it forever. Thank you.”

“Well, you kept coming into the shop and asking for the perfect book for your family and friends. I thought you’d like it if someone chose one for you too.”

“I love it, thank you.” Merlin closed the book, stroking the cover fondly before getting up and very carefully putting the book in his suitcase. Then he got back into bed and snuggled down with Arthur.

“I’m glad you got that part,” Arthur told him. “You’re going to be brilliant.”

Merlin shrugged, not good with compliments. But he was hopeful that he wouldn’t make a fool of himself. He’d enjoyed the stage productions at drama school. “We’ll see.”

“You’ll steal the show,” Arthur insisted.

“As opposed to stealing your books?” Merlin grinned. “You know, I got accused of stealing once? I was hiding from the press and this pompous clotpole of a shopkeeper thought I was nicking his stock!”

“Bibliopole.”

“What?”

“Bibliopole, not clotpole. Someone who buys and sells books.”

Merlin eyed him suspiciously. “That’s not a thing.”

“Clearly I should have got you a dictionary instead of that Shakespeare volume.”

“Clearly I’m dating a pompous arse who probably swallowed that bloody dictionary!”

“Pantomath,” Arthur told him.

“Is that Gwaine, with his underwear-signing obsession? No, come on, it’s not a thing is it? You’re making these words up!” Merlin protested.

“It’s someone who knows everything, or wants to.”

“Prat.”

“You know that means a person’s buttocks, don’t you?”

“It means Arthur Pendragon. And yes, he’s an arse, I agree! But… hah! Butt! But you know what?” Merlin leaned in closer.

“What?” Arthur asked, smiling at him despite the teasing. Merlin could see the love in his eyes. Yes, perfect Christmas.

“You’re my prattish arse of a clotty bibbly pantothingy pole.”

“Eloquent,” Arthur told him, because he had to have the last word.

Merlin smacked him over the head with a pillow.

Then he kissed him. Because even if Arthur could be a tad annoying sometimes, Merlin loved him.

And he knew with absolute certainty that Arthur loved him right back.