it's the first day of spring

"I fucking am Josh."

Mon, 09 Nov 2009 16:41:43 GMT

Guyyyyys, who is watching The Thick of It? I think it is my favourite comedy of the moment, I always spend the half-hour cackling painfully and occasionally feeling smug about my A-Level in Government and Politics. BASICALLY, it is like The West Wing, only British and a sitcom, minus the ideals and plus rather a lot of fantastic swearing. Also it has Peter Capaldi in it. Anyway, nobody is sure exactly how many series there have been thus far, because things got smushed together on the DVD and then there were the specials featuring the Opposition, but now is an excellent time to get into it! Because there is a new minister and yet, unsurprisingly, the same old shit.

Meet Nicola Murray. She is the new Secretary of State for Social Affairs and Citizenship.
She was way, way down the list for this job.
Also, sometimes she forgets to change out of her trainers before she goes to meetings.

Nicola: This is just about showing The Real Nicola. Operation Not Smug, Not Glum.

Terri: Glenn! How is Nicola?
Glenn: She looks so... glum. She looks like I feel when I visit Sheffield.

Meet Malcom Tucker. He is the Prime Minster's Director of Communications.
He is properly scary.
Also, he is played by Peter Capaldi and therefore automatically awesome.
Also also, I really like it when he wears that bow tie.

Malcolm: I think we should use the carrot and stick approach, yeah. You take a carrot, you stick it up his fucking arse, followed by the stick.

Meet the key staff members of DoSAC (hee, 'sac').
They are Ollie, Glenn, Terri and Robyn.
They're all often vaguely incompentent, except Robyn, who is hideously incompetent, and would have been fired many times by now if Glenn didn't have a bit of a crush on her.

Often, they cock things up. Observe:

Glenn: The immigration database is blank.
Nicola: Oh, fuck. Oh, this is a fucking disaster.
Glenn: Well, the last hope was that Ollie had it on that thing, what, erm, a memory -
Ollie: Stick. No. Well, I only said it just ‘cause you looked like you were going to self-harm.

Ollie: Glenn, mate, what would you do if you found that a dongle, that everyone had thought was lost, was right at the bottom of your second-best bag?

Terri: Yes?
Ollie: Get. A fucking. Move. On.
Terri: Where are you?
Ollie: Never mind where I am! I can see you, and you’re not in the car, and you’re not driving away, and you should be, so fuck off!

One of my favourite things about The Thick of It is the way Terri does not appear to give a shit about much at all.

Nicola: Where in the civil service guidelines does it say it’s absolutely fine to leave your minister alone with a hostile journalist if you just can’t be arsed to walk down the stairs?
Terri: No, I had already pressed the button!

Terri: Yep... I’m going to miss my wine-tasting again tonight.

Nicola: How’s the time machine coming along, Terri? Have you managed to find a flux capacitor yet?
Terri: Well, I had to go and fetch Glenn!

Malcolm: [after breaking Glenn’s nose] You’re alright, you’ve hurt yourself. I did not hit you.
Glenn: I think you’ve broken my nose!

Malcolm: [through the bathroom door, to Glenn] We're old soldiers, right? This is life in wartime, okay. Every now and then you're going to get an incident of friendly fire.

Ollie: Marian, I’m not threatening you, but, erm -
Journalist: What?
Ollie: I’m not threatening you.
Journalist: Yeah, well, usually the phrase “I’m not threatening you, but -” is followed by a threat.
...
Ollie: Well, you’re on very shaky legal ground.
Journalist: No, I’m really not. How am I?

Nicola: Oh, fuck, fuck, fuck! How can I learn this when you’re still writing it? I feel sick!
Ollie: No, it’s exciting, it’s good, it’s really good! In fact, I would say, the fact that you’re hearing it for the first time when you say it will possibly give it a freshness, and a zing, you know? This is politics as it is, isn’t it, it’s The West Wing!
Nicola: You’re not Josh, Ollie, just write the fucking speech.
Ollie: [under his breath] I fucking am Josh.

Nicola: Yeah, it’s all just gone really HBO.

FOR YOUR PLEASURE:
+ Malcolm Tucker's Top 10 Quotes
+ Outtakes and extra bits on the BBC website
+ The Thick Of It at The Guardian
+ Chris Addison, who plays Ollie, Rebecca Front, who plays Nicola, and comedy genius/creator of TTOI, Armando Iannucci, on Twitter

I hate to jinx things, but is Show on a roll?

Sat, 07 Nov 2009 19:35:38 GMT

+ Aww, Merlin, so trudge-y and sad. MY LITTLE SMOKE PONY ♥ ♥ ♥
+ OH NOES, Morgana's scared face!
+ LOLOL oh Merlin, laughing at his own lame jokes. Colin looks lovely this week, his hair is all artfully dishevelled
+ CHARLES DANCE, YOU BAMF
+ Gwen and Morgana in the same scene! Having lines!
+ I agree, Witchfinder, Arthur is fair indeed. Charles Dance is out-deep-voicing ASH, it's fabulous.
+ Heavens above, Charles Dance, button your shirt. I know it's hard, competing with the cheekbones and such, but, still.
+ LOL SKULL INKPOT
+ Colin is killing me with the shifty acting. Did you hear that tiny clearing of the throat? SO EFFING PRESH.
+ LOL the Witchfinder is interviewing people in his bedroom, right next to his black-sheeted bed. KINKY.
+ I SEE KNIGHTS BUT NO SIR LEON, I REFUSE TO BELIEVE THE RADIO TIMES MISLED ME WITH ITS CAST LIST
+ Does Uther have a secret toad phobia? He is practically panting.
+ Scared!Morgana makes my heart go meep :'(
+ OH ARTHUR, YOU DOOFUS. His and Gwen's 'pshaw, not Merlin!' faces are adorable in their disbelief.
+ OH SIR LEON, HOW COULD YOU? I mean, thanks for showing up, but I wish it wasn't to incriminate people I love. Remember last week, when you and Gaius were tactfully explaining things to people? DID THAT MEAN NOTHING TO YOU???
+ OH GAIUS AND MERLIN ♥ This sad piano music is sad indeed
+ Ooooh, A REFERENCE TO THE PAST! This week, Gaius, next week IGRAINE!!! I hope people are on hand to give Arthur hugs when his worldview is rocked.
+ Eeesh, Gaius in the dungeons is pretty nasty. He is old, be gentle with ~~his stunt double~~ him! AND MERLIN IS WATCHING WITH TEARS IN HIS EYES ;_;
+ Wow, the dragon actually can't help.
+ OH LORD, DON'T ACCIDENTALLY SET HIM ON MORGANA.
+ PALE AND WIBBLY MORGANA HURTS MY HEART. She is scared like a tiny rabbit, I don't like it. HURRY UP, SHOW, ALLOW HER TO BE FIERCE
+ OH GAIUS. At least Uther has the grace to look kind of sad about the whole SENTENCING HIM TO BURN AT THE STAKE thing.
+ OH ARTHUR. Taking Merlin away before he can get in more trouble, smuggling him in to Gaius. ♥ ALSO THAT PART WHERE HE WAS ALL KIND OF HUSKY WITH MERLIN'S ARM ALL TWISTED UP.
+ CHARLES DANCE, YOU MAGNIFICENT BASTARD
+ OH GWEN, her voice went all breaky with worry for Morgana. OH GIRLS ♥
+ Merlin and Gwen, teaming up to fight crime! \o/
+ MERLIN, YOU ARE A CREEPSTER, AND I LIKE THAT ABOUT YOU. Also, is the Witchfinder sleeping in Arthur's room, or have they just redressed the set in a lazy manner?
+ "No, leave Arthur to me" - ICU Gwen, with your feminine wiles!
+ CHORAL MUSIC OF EXTREME SADNESS ;_;
+ OH FUCK THEY ACTUALLY BROUGHT UP GWEN'S FATHER. GWEN IS THE BEST AT SMACKDOWNS ♥
+ ARTHUR STEPPING UP THE PLATE, FUCK YEAH
+ Heh, Uther really does not like toads.
+ AHAHAHA HE FELL OUT OF THE PLASTIC WINDOW TO HIS DEATH. Okay then.
+ Oooh, Gaius is finally calling Uther out on his paranoia!!
+ Aww, I love it when an episode ends on Gaius and Merlin laughing.

Thinky thoughts!
+ HOLY SHIT, GUINEVERE. How perfect was she in this ep, I mean really? She got to be pro-active in a meaningful way! And when she was insisting that they had to get more evidence before going to Uther, because she knows, she knows more than any of the others that commoners aren't listened to. It's interesting and awesome that they stressed that this episode, when so much of the plot hinges on a commoner being intimidated and manipulated into doing something and concealing it on pain of death. It's precisely because she knows about ordinary people that she's going to be such a good queen, like, I ACTUALLY CANNOT EVEN BEGIN TO CONCEIVE OF HER AWESOME QUEENSHIP BECAUSE IT BLOWS MY MIND WITH JOY. And, lest we forget, once again she calls Arthur out in magnificent fashion, last-naming him and everything (relatedly, until Arthur gets a canonical middle name, I am going to believe it is "Muriel", like Chandler from Friends)! I love how she goes about this, she's always firm and never whiny, and THANK YOU, JAKE MICHIE, FOR REMEMBERING THAT UTHER TOTALLY KILLED HER DAD AND ARTHUR WAS TOTALLY COMPLICIT.

+ Ohhhh, Merlin. Ohhhh, Colin Morgan. Again, I think the writing was really good this week, because it wasn't just problem-dragon-spell-victory!, he actually had to think around the problem and not just throw magic at it. ALSO HE WAS PRECIOUS BEYOND ALL REASONS, HIS LITTLE FACE AFTER HIS SMOKE PONY ♥ ♥ I never have anything proper to say about Merlin and Gaius together when they're being all familial because it's so lovely.

+ ICU Arthur, being all grown-up and reasonable, and I like it a lot. I like that he can challenge Uther now, calmly and in front of an audience; I liked the way he manhandled Merlin away to Gaius before he incriminated himself, smoothly and without fuss (and speaking in a pleasingly deep voice, phnar). Relatedly, HOMG, why are Merlin and Arthur not in profile to the camera ALL THE TIME, THAT WAS DELICIOUS.

(gifs by who_love)

+ I AM NOT PLEASED WITH THE USE OF MORGANA THIS EPISODE. Why does she have to be scared all the time? At the end of 2.03 it seemed like she had acquired some self-knowledge and was not afraid to use it; I understand that this would be a frightening time for her, but she used to raise her chin into it. WHY IS SHE NOT BEING FIERCE???? I DON'T UNDERSTAND THIS SHIT.

NEXT WEEK: MORGAUSE, FUCK YEAH. Also, Pendragons have issues. Also also, Sir Leon! \o/ So when Arthur (presumably) finds out that he is a magical baby Jesus equivalent, surely that is a pretty big step towards the magic not being quite so secret anymore? I liked that Arthur and Gwen had the same 'pfft, whatever' reaction to the Witchfinder accusing Merlin; I'm never quite sure exactly how much Gwen knows or suspect or doens't allow herself to put together about Morgana.

Overall, WELL PLAYED, SHOW.

If you haven't already, you should go and see Rupert Young being a hippie and also a card shark, and look! Here is Sam Troughton reading to small children.

It's everyone's favourite knight-with-lines!

Sun, 01 Nov 2009 17:56:42 GMT

If you have a different favourite knight-with-lines, this post is not for you.

Our first encounter with Sir Leon (all the way back in 2.02! It has been but a few short weeks, and yet I cannot contemplate life without him now) tells us many things that will be important in the future.
1. His hair is a thing of great wonder and glory
2. Ditto his facial scruff
3. Ditto his accent
4. He is entirely capable of whacking Arthur with a big stick, but chooses not to for noble and dutiful reasons. Yeah.

Well, ouch. Now, you might think that Arthur, unshackled from the expectations of princehood, beat Sir Leon fair and square, but I would not want you to continue any longer in this sad state of ignorance. Clearly, Sir Leon recognised his lord and master at a distance through the gap in his visor, and thus took the fall bravely, sparing the young princeling public shame and disgrace. That's just how he rolls.

Hey look! It's Sir Leon in 2.03, modelling the knights' casualwear. Note the jaunty angle of his belt.

Sometimes, Sir Leon's devotion to his duty requires him to do things he would rather not have to do, i.e. arrest hapless young manservants. However, because he is a consummate professional, this is no reason to go about his business with his hair looking anything less than glorious (see: second cap).

Another duty: cockblocking. He doesn't do this to be liked.

Despite the cockblocking, Arthur clearly respects Sir Leon enough to allow him to strut into the throne room with him (WORK THAT CLOAK, SIR LEON). Note the anguish etched on Sir Leon's noble features as he reluctantly starts to clap; note also that he commands such great admiration that everyone promptly follows suit. Poor Sir Leon, torn between his knight's heart (WHY ARTHUR WHYYYYY) and his courtier's head. ;_;

In an alternate universe, there is a show called Gaius and Sir Leon Tactfully Explain Things To People, and it is a worldwide hit.

Gaius: I don’t suppose it’s escaped your notice, sire, but we just - just wanted to make absolutely certain... You do realise your wife is a troll, sire?
Uther: I beg your pardon?
Gaius: At least that’s the way she looks to us. What with the warts, and the nose -
Sir Leon: And the smell.
Uther: The smell? What -
Gaius: She also has what appears to be a set of fangs.
Uther: What?
Sir Leon: *laughing adorably* I wouldn’t really say they were fangs. More like tusks!
Gaius: Yes, they are more like tusks. Not that we are saying that is necessarily a bad thing -
Sir Leon: *shakes head adorably*
Gaius: - I just thought I ought to point it out to you in case it had passed you by.

Sir Leon knows when you are sniffing him. He understands, because his musk is potent indeed, but still. He knows.

Sat, 31 Oct 2009 19:35:45 GMT

+ OH MY DAYS, SHE SQUISHED UTHER'S FACE, I think this episode gets a pass just for that.
+ BEN VANSTONE, FUCK YEAH. Although, is it just me, or does it really not make sense to have a two-parter written by different people?
+ SIR LEON, FUCK YEAH!!! Although, boo, arresting Merlin, not on. YOU'RE LUCKY I ARBITRARILY LOVE YOU, SIR LEON.
+ Does Gaius have a sassy new smock?
+ THAT SCENE. YOU KNOW THE ONE I MEAN. Oh Arthur, so manfully anguished ♥
+ Awww, he said Merlin wasn't stupid! And awww, Uther is implicitly slighting his leadership :/
+ Dung. Lovely.
+ Gwen! Having lines! Showing concern for her friend Merlin!
+ Heee, Merlin-inna-barrel.
+ HEY ARTHUR I AM ENJOYING YOUR LEVEL OF LACED-UP-SHIRTINESS I.E. NOT VERY LACED-UP AT ALL. KEEP IT UP. Oh yeah, and the showing concern for your people stuff, that's good too.
+ Oh my, Uther getting his seduction on is priceless. Shadow-lurking! Flowers! Sultry voice! ALSO HE IS FIRM IN BODY, OOH-ER. RUDE HEALTH INDEED.
+ Farting. Ha ha ha.
+ I am enjoying both Merlin's I-don't-want-to-taste-the-yucky-potion face and the postively indecent close-up on Colin's lips and tongue. Something for everyone, this show.
+ All these shots of Merlin half-hidden behind doors and spying on people lead me to believe he would be the prettiest stalker ever.
+ KNIGHTS WITH LINES WHO ARE NOT SIR LEON??? WHO AUTHORISED THIS SHIT????
+ D'awww, Arthur. And he didn't even know Gwen was smiling at him fondly! He was being nice, in general! D'awww.
+ "Why can't they be both?" Arthur, not to be harsh, but do you even have any friends?
+ Wow, Arthur holding his ground against Uther is kind of getting me hot and bothered. GOOD KINGSHIP IS SEXY, APPARENTLY.
+ LOL MERLIN IS STILL STUCK IN THE CUPBOARD.
+ LOL ARTHUR IS LOUNGING IN A PENSIVE FASHION. And yayyyy, Arthur/Gwen! Although I hardly think "Don't ever change" is the best advice, Guinevere; a prat with a heart of gold is still a prat.
+ WHERE THE ACTUAL FUCK IS MORGANA???
+ SIR LEON LOOKS SHOCKED AT THIS NEWS OF DISINHERITANCE. DON'T CLAP, SIR LEON. Meanwhile, Arthur's daddy issues have just been set back about a bajillion years. Nice work, Uther.
+ Wow, Arthur has to attend the ceremony? Salt in the wound, man. Hey, Morgana!
+ CATRINA JUST DISSED GEOFFREY OF MONOUTH. THAT SHIT IS NOT ON.
+ Although I wish she had, y'know, lines, I am enjoying Morgana's bitchface greatly.
+ Uther's beatific smile during the transformation is possibly my favourite thing ever.
+ OH GOD THAT WAS A FADE TO BLACK DID UTHER ACTUALLY DO SOME TROLL-LOVIN'????
+ Heee, I want a whole show that is just Gaius and Sir Leon tactfully explaining things to people.
+ The dragon is actually just laughing in Merlin's face, I love it.
+ Oh Jonas, if I were in your position, I would also lean closer than is appropriate to Sir Leon.
+ "There is only one course of action we can take. Uther must see his son die." WHAT NOW, GAIUS? THAT'S THE ONLY THING YOU CAN THINK OF?
+ YAY, THE SHIFT IS BACK! Not that I don't enjoy shirtless!Arthur, but YAY, THE SHIFT IS BACK! Additionally, Merlin hiding under Arthur's bed! OH BEN VANSTONE, YOU ARE MY FAVOURITE FOR A REASON.
+ Arthur is drinking fake death potion! \o/ How much do you want to bet he's secretly comparing himself to Juliet?
+ That whole potion/poison scene is GOLD.
+ Finally! A purpose for the neckscarf!
+ "I did many things that I... regret." "Father, I really don't want to know the details."
+ Merlin is shifty and/or an open book! ALSO HE THOUGHT ARTHUR WAS GOING FOR A HUG.

IN GENERAL, BEN VANSTONE WINS. There are no thinky thoughts because it was a two-parter about a farting troll.

Sophie's Big Fat LFF Post

Sun, 25 Oct 2009 17:50:27 GMT

Ach, I have wrenched myself from London; I wish I could have stayed for the whole festival, but tomorrow is STRATFORD FUNTIMES WOO, so I can't complain too much. Vaguely thinky thoughts (and walking past celebrities!) ahoy! I'll try not to be too spoilery, but, y'know, I tend to flail so proceed with caution.

Friday 16th October: A Single Man (Gala screening)
A reason why Gala screenings are awesome: Tom Ford introduced the film, while Colin Firth, Matthew Goode, and Nicholas Hoult stood about ten feet away from me looking dashing in suits. It was a bit good.

The film was as visually beautiful as you would expect anything by Tom Ford to be. Colin Firth's George has lost his lover, and his life is completely bleak and desaturated; occasionally, something breaks through to stimulate his senses - be it the smell of a dog or some drunken twisting - and the screen blooms beautifully into technicolour, only to fade away again as he comes back to himself. Colin Firth deserves every one of the superlatives that will no doubt be heaped on him for this performance, he's completely heartbreaking. Matthew Goode is a flashbacks-based delight as Jim, grinning over a copy of Breakfast at Tiffany's; he's so bright and charming and alive, having that and then losing it would destroy anyone, I think. Nicholas Hoult! He used to be the kid from About A Boy and then he was Tony Stonem and now he's in big Hollywood films doing accents and having a (Tom Ford-mandated, AHAHA) fake tan and muscles and everything, it's crazy! And ohhh, Julianne Moore. Her freckles and her eye-makeup and her glorious dancing! I've had a girl crush on that woman for so long that I don't even list her anymore, because it's all tangled up with stuff about HOMG HOW SO AWESOME AND CLASSY and, well, freckles. Sigh. Relatedly, OH WOMEN BOTH REAL AND FICTIONAL, PLEASE STOP BEING IN LOVE WITH YOUR GAY BFFS. THANK YOU.

CELEBRITIES WALKED PAST: VIGGO. Yeah.

Monday 19th October: The Road
Some themes you might see developed in this here post: pitch-perfect casting, and incredible child actors. THAT'S PRETTY MUCH THE ROAD RIGHT THERE. I heard Viggo was playing The Man before I read the Cormac McCarthy novel, and I could picture him so clearly as I was reading that I was hoping that this film would be special.

Needless to say, Viggo knocked it out of the park, and Kodi Smit-McPhee was remarkable. The relationship they created was phenomally touching (here, look at them being adorable in Venice!). The father looks at his son like he's a miracle; oh, I cried.

John Hillcoat also directed The Proposition, and although the setting of The Road is a world away from that film, the visuals are equally striking, bleak and beautiful; the falling tree set-piece was a particular stand-out. Whereas A Single Man incorporated some non-book elements into the film, this is basically pretty much exactly the novel on screen.

CELEBRITIES WALKED PAST: Blake Ritson! We saw him in Leicester Square after lunch.

Tuesday 20th October: Barbe Bleue
I went into this knowing nothing more than "Bluebeard! French! Cool!" and I came away very happy. The design and direction were utterly lush, rich as anything, and I really enjoyed the Bluebeard/Marie-Catherine relationship, because I like things that are a bit wrong. The film isn't just another telling of a fairy story, though; the Bluebeard sections are interspersed with two young girls in the present day reading and responding to the story. Again, some amazing performances from young actors; Lola Créton as Marie-Catherine was sensational, she did so much with her eyes, and the tiny girl playing Catherine, whose name is sadly not listed on IMDb, was adorably like a wee Marketa Irglova.

Screen Talk: Jane Campion
WHAT A FUCKING LEGEND/GODDESS/EXCESSIVELY WONDERFUL WOMAN. So, so inspiring. She kept dropping these little snippets of story; like, the scene in The Piano where Ada's finger is cut off, they were having trouble deciding how Holly Hunter should play it, and Sam Neill said that Omar Sharif had told him that David Lean had directed him to think about sex when he's all gutted looking out at revolutionary mayhem in Doctor Zhivago. Also, Harvey Keitel thought Reservoir Dogs was like Shakespeare because everyone died at the end. Also, she decided to make Bright Star because she was in a field and a horse opened her bag with great tenderness!

CELEBRITIES WALKED PAST: BEN WHISHAW OH MY SOUL. It was in the crush outside the Jane Campion thing, and he literally walked past me all close like. He was dressed like this (look at them being all adorable at Keats House!) and his hair was a delight and I nearly passed out but I was all alone and thus could tell nobody! OH WHISHYWASHY ♥

Wednesday 21st October: Bright Star
SO THIS ONE WAS KIND OF A BIG DEAL FOR ME. It's Jane Campion directing Ben Whishaw as Keats, just, gah. I'd been reading Andrew Motion's biography of Keats all week, so I was all prepared and in a thoroughly Keatsian headspace. First off, Abbie Cornish was fantastic as Fanny Brawne; I shall have to stalk her back catalogue because I was so, so impressed. I loved Fanny's presentation and strength and continual growth throughout the film, I love that her sense of self is not lost even as she changes and matures, I love her reaction to Charles Brown dismissing her as someone only able to flirt and sew.

In her interview on Tuesday, it was talked about that Jane Campion is a director who deals almost exclusively in female subjectivity, and Bright Star definitely continues to explore that. The film is Fanny's view of the love story (we don't really see either of them before they meet or after Keats' death), and I think there's an interesting relationship between Fanny's role as the eyes of the film and her role as Keats' muse/a figure in his poetry and letters. Anyway, all this glorious female subjectivity, in addition to offering a welcome break from the cinematic male gaze, affords me the chance to do something I have become very good at: objectify Ben Whishaw. I almost feel guilty, because I was so Whishaw-focused going into this and Fanny/Abbie Cornish was so remarkable, but OH WELL, THIS IS THE PART WHERE I AM HORRIBLY IN LOVE WITH HIM, WHATEVER, I HAVE ACCEPTED THIS ABOUT MYSELF. I mean, it's Whishwashy as Keats. It's as glorious as you think it is, delicate and intense and passionate and it's BEN WHISHAW AS KEATS. Aha, he makes me so useless.

This is such a sexy film. Obviously, there is no actual onscreen fucking (oops, spoiler!), but it's so sensual, and the need the two of them feel is so palpable. This kissing business, it can be pretty steamy, you know. Hand-holding, too.

It's Jane Campion, so obviously the whole thing is brimming with visual beauty. She's created so many lush moments: Fanny standing at an open window, the breeze billowing the curtain and ruffling her dress as she falls back onto her bed; Fanny sinking into a field of flowers to read a letter. There are so many shots I don't want to spoil for you, because their loveliness rendered me incapable of doing much else other than breathing "Oh, wow."

Child actors being amazing: Edie Martin as Fanny's younger sister Margaret, or "Toots", was completely enchanting. Jane Campion talked a little bit about her on Tuesday night; it seems her policy on the child actors she's worked with (including tiny!Anna Paquin) is to basically stand back and film them being wonderful, because those two pretty much came like that, and anything else will make them too self-conscious.

This might seem slightly odd, but I really loved the sound design of the film. Firstly, HOLY VOICEOVER; it was incredibly intimate, hearing them read the poems and letters that way (also I may have a major kink for Whishwashy's voice, see: the way he says "Hamlet" etc). Also look out for the crazy and wonderful vocal-orchestra type thing - you'll know it when you see it, it's completely gorgeous. ALSO HE READ "ODE TO A NIGHTINGALE" OVER THE END CREDITS ♥ ♥ ♥

An Education

The whole Carey-Mulligan-is-the-new-Audrey-Hepburn! buzz surrounding this film kind of makes me chuckle, because HERE ON THE INTERNET WHERE PEOPLE ARE WISE we've all seen her in P&P and Bleak House and Northanger Abbey, so she doesn't feel like an unknown at all. SHE'S SALLY FUCKING SPARROW. Anyway, the buzz is nevertheless completely deserved, because the film is a delicious delight and she is fantastic in it.

It's so funny! Alfred Molina is wonderful as Jenny's father, and Rosamund Pike steals every scene she's in with her slightly-disconnected-from-reality dizzy glamour girl. Also I want to give big squeezy hugs to poor Graham, Jenny's sweet boy-next-door type who likes cake and is thinking of taking a year out. Unsurprisingly I LOVE LOVE LOVED Olivia "GODDESS" Williams as Miss Stubbs; the scene in her flat near the end was so lovely and important. I liked Dominic Cooper much more than I usually do - I may even have been shipping him subversively with Jenny a tiny little bit. And yay, Peter Sarsgaard! He's so interesting in this, walking a very fine line between charming and sleazy and living in half-truths.

What I really like about this, though (the design! the music! the period hair and make-up!) was the fact that it's a proper, funny coming-of-age story, and it's about a girl. And sex is not her downfall! \o/

The Scouting Book For Boys
If I could make everybody watch one film that I saw at the LFF, it would be this one. Partly because I know that people are eager about Bright Star and An Education anyway, but I would be so sad if this got passed over and nobody took any notice of it. Jack Thorne, who wrote this, has written some of my favourite episodes of Skins (S1 Chris, S2 Sketch, S3 Naomi); Tom Harper, the director, did Dis/Connected and some eps for Demons (let's just take a moment to remember Dis/Connected, shall we?).

Set in a caravan park on the Norfolk coast, the film tells the story of best friends Emily and David. When Emily has to leave the site to live with her father, they hatch a plan that quickly and inevitably turns into something they hadn't anticipated. Thomas Turgoose as David is just one more reason why I need to see This Is England; Holliday Grainger is fantastic as Emily (no matter what lonelyfajita may have against her charming freckles and her resemblance to stalkers past!), really believable as 14/15, moments of knowing and naviete. Also kicking around were Rafe Spall (skeezy, funny and touching) and Steven Mackintosh, so, y'know, these are all good things. Visually, it's lush, starting off all idyllic and idealised and gradually slipping into something else. There was one motif in particular that struck me every time it reappeared - David, softly stroking the hair round Emily's ear. Also, all the songs are by Noah & The Whale!

After the screening, there was an ace Q&A by the cast and crew, the standout of which was Jack Thorne talking about all the 14 year-old girls he had known with boyfriends a decade older, goiung off to get fingered in the back of a Nissan Micra.

CELEBRITIES WALKED PAST: I spent the day with the fabulous agguss and regaled her with my giddy tales of celebrity walk-pasts past, and then Blake Ritson (he just can't keep away from my musk, apparently) was at our screening of An Education!

Thursday 22nd October: Screen Talk: Clive Owen
Ohh, he is a handsome devil. The interviewer pretty much just worked through his back catalogue with him, so we got to hear him be heartfelt and enthusiastic about Stephen Poliakoff and Alfonso Cuaron and how amazing Closer is (that part made me so happy, because Closer is my favourite). A very classy man. ALSO HE IS V. HOT.

Valhalla Rising
Fuck, this was such a weird one. I'm still thinking about it now, trying to decipher the layers of colour and symbolism and delicious violence and MADS MIKKELSEN. Heh. Vikings are crazy.

CELEBRITIES WALKED PAST: JJ Feild was outside the cinema, smoking and looking delectable in a leather jacket.

How are you? ♥

Tue, 13 Oct 2009 11:11:32 GMT

My thread!

Something I have learnt this week: I GET CRANKY WHEN I AM DENIED MY MERLIN

Mon, 12 Oct 2009 00:24:48 GMT

HELLO I HAVE MANY THOUGHTS I AM SURE YOU ARE ALL ANXIOUS TO HEAR THEM

+ OH GOD, EVERYONE IS IN LOVE WITH GWEN AND IT IS FANTASTIC, SHE IS THE MOST FALL-IN-LOVABLE PERSON EVER, I AM MORE THAN A LITTLE IN LOVE WITH HER MYSELF. I loved how regal she was when she was impersonating Morgana; it was like my brain was a klaxon going FUTURE QUEEN FUTURE QUEEN FUTURE QUEEN and all I could do was sigh and look at her goopily. Why does everyone keep leaving her, have they not eyes and hearts and sex drives??? AND I WOULD HOPE IT DOESN'T NEED SAYING, but any Gwen-bashing, specifically anything involving finger-wagging or slut-shaming or the phrase 'scarlet woman', will be dealt with ninja-style round these parts. Allow Arthur (and peopleareshapes!) to demonstrate:

+ SOMEONE WHO IS IN LOVE WITH GWEN THIS WEEK: LANCELOT! AHAHA oh God, isn't Santiago Cabrera just the dreamiest? I cannot think of a better adjective, because everytime he is onscreen I can do little more than giggle adoringly. In my defence, it has been something like SANTIAGO CABRERA PARTY WEEK in my brain of late, what with the Shrew Retold rewatch (HE SPEAKS ITALIAN AND WEARS GLASSES) and Love and Other Disasters (picspam forthcoming! HE WEARS JUMPERS AND IS 'ARGENTINEAN') and, yeah. THERE ARE JUST A LOT OF FEELINGS, OKAY. Also, Lancelot has a sexy haircut and a scar and is A CAGE FIGHTER!!!! Anyway, I loved that he's all disillusioned post-Camelot and is A CAGE FIGHTER now, because the world is shit if you are not noble, even though Lancelot is noble with a capital N, bless his socks. I LOVE HOW FLOWERY HE IS, WITH ALL HIS DECLARATIONS. I think one thing I like about Gwen/Lancelot is that while Arthur is a symbol for how awesome the future could/will be, Lancelot shows that there's hope in ordinary people, too. THEY'RE ALL GOING TO BUILD THE SHINY FUTURE TOGETHER. And she kissed him, I adored that. BASICALLY I JUST WANT SANTIAGO TO BE A REGULAR, CAN WE SWING THAT?

+ SOMEONE ELSE WHO IS IN LOVE WITH GWEN THIS WEEK: ARTHUR! Ohh, Arthur, look at you, talking about your feelings and being an emotionally stunted boyyyyy and being kind of stoically heartbroken all over the place. Also, I think Colin and Bradley must have some kind of hotness rota in place, because Colin was, like, otherworldly levels of beautiful last ep, this week it was all about Bradley and his lovely hair and his faaaaace. Phwoar. But OH ARTHUR is the general idea. LOVE THAT IDIOT. Also I had some vague thoughts about Arthur/Gwen versus Gwen/Lancelot and class differences and ability to speak/act, only it didn't quite come together, so just pretend I did some deep meta here. MEANWHILE, ARTHUR POUTS. LIKE, ACTUALLY POUTS. LOOK AT THAT BOTTOM LIP!

+ SOMEONE ELSE WHO IS IN LOVE WITH GWEN THIS WEEK: MORGANA! Ahh, the Gwen/Morgana radiating off my screen this week was lovely, with the not-nightmare-specific hugging, and the swords, and Morgana being distraught because GWEN IS MORE THAN A SERVANT, DAMMIT. HOWEVER - and I suspect and am going to be saying this over and over again, and that makes me sad - the girls are allowed so much independence and badassery, but only so much. Gwen and Morgana can't save each other; Morgana isn't involved in Gwen's rescue; Gwen isn't allowed to participate in any of the shenanigans at the castle belonging to Hamish's-dad-from-Braveheart. They don't have any real agency of their own, at least not yet, and the only influence Gwen is able to exert on the male characters is helping them to various necessary epiphanies that tend to make them better men, but generally result in them leaving her. I love this silly show, I love how sweeping and epic and lovely and ridiculous it is (although, recycling the Arthur/Gwen love theme for Gwen/Lancelot was decidedly UNCOOL), but this nags at me continually. Arthur gets to rescue Gwen; Morgana gets to... be slightly hysterical. ALTHOUGH MORGANA GETS THE HUG, SO I THINK WE ALL KNOW WHO WON THAT ROUND.

+ OH GOD, OT5, OT5!!! Everyone is so ridiculously, tragically in love with each other, it makes my heart swell. LANCELOT LEFT, THE GORGEOUS NOBLE IDIOT. That right there, how much they love each other and don't want to hurt each other, and make silly sacrifices all over the place, that is why I love them and that is why they're going to fuck everything up. I just, OT5!!! I'm invested in and interested in basically every side of that hot mess; WHY IS THERE NOT LOTS OF ARTHUR/LANCELOT FIC WHERE THEY'RE ALL TORTURED AND NOBLE, HMMM? Seriously. Lancelot, like, refused to stand in the way of Arthur's happiness BECAUSE HE IS HIS KING AND HE LOVES HIM. Also, remember that time when Lancelot left and Arthur made this face? YEAH. Just, think about it. Their subtext was one of the only good things about The Mists of Avalon. OH GOD, THEY'RE ALL IDIOTS AND I JUST WANT THEM TO ALL HAVE ORGIES FOR THE LOVE OF CAMELOT OR WHATEVER.

+ Oh Merlin, you're still my favourite, with your bitchface and your snarking and how much I like it when you get to wear chainmail.

+ Next time! Troll! Which, I love Sarah Parish, but whatever. I am not excited for fart jokes. I AM EXCITED FOR SIR LEON (YAY FOR RECURRING KNIGHTS!), THOUGH, DID YOU SEE THOSE PROMO PICTURES?

"I want you to have all my babies"

Fri, 09 Oct 2009 01:07:50 GMT

Aha, I had all sorts of plans for this entry! Epic plans! Snarky, fun ones, even. Except, now it is late and I am tired and my brain won't work, so here, have a picspam with little-to-no commentary!

In Which Shirley Henderson and Rufus Sewell are Amazing, Basically
(Oh, and Santiago Cabrera has floofy hair and is adorkable)

(AHAHAHAHA)

Anyway, my thoughts on this essentially go: HOMG LOOK AT THEM, SIZE DIFFERENTIAL HOMG!!!! AHHHH RUFUS IN DRAG IS MIND-MELTNGLY HOT LOOK AT HIS LEGS!!! AHHH THEY ARE SO SEXY AND WONDERFUL LOL SANTIAGO. If you've seen it, you know what I mean; if you haven't, get on that shit.

In other news, I'm off to London town tomorrow; My BFF Emma's birthday was yesterday and Jo's was today, so shenanigans are planned. SECRETLY I AM DEVASTATED because I won't be able to get my Merlin fix until Sunday night, WOE WOE WOE. I am slightly cheered by the fact I now own this, though.

Ooh, something else! E4 are now showing HIMYM every night (which is a vast improvement on the BBC2 double bills that used to go out at like 2 in the morning), and it's still early days. I haven't really been keeping up with the show online, but I like it and I watch when I can/when I remember, and I don't really care about spoilers. And when I started watching there were already flisties shipping Barney/Robin, so I was kind of had that slant on it anyway. BUT OH MY SOUL, WHEN TED MAKES IT RAIN AND THEN THERE IS BLOC PARTY, I CANNOT RESIST BLOC PARTY AND I LOVE THE RAIN, I COULDN'T HELP IT, THERE WERE BLOC PARTY AND RAIN-INDUCED TED/ROBIN FEELINGS IN MY HEART. "This Modern Love"! Gahhh! Anyway, that happened.

How are you? ♥

Fic: Destiny Calling [MASTER POST]

Sun, 04 Oct 2009 23:06:41 GMT

Presenting: the reel_merlin fic that destroyed my life. YEAH.

Title: Destiny Calling
Film Prompt: Empire Records
Pairing: Arthur/Merlin, Gwen/Lancelot, Gwen/Morgana, Will/Sophia
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 17,700
Warnings: it's quite 90s? Also there are SIX DIFFERENT POINTS OF VIEW, I HATE MYSELF.
Summary: In which Merlin is guided by a force much greater than luck, Lancelot is excessively chivalrous, and Morgana is a very angry and confused young woman.

(art by lovestories)

Prologue | Part One | Part Two | Notes and 90s Primer | Soundtrack

Fic: Destiny Calling [Soundtrack]

Sun, 04 Oct 2009 22:54:04 GMT

THE "DESTINY CALLING" SOUNDTRACK: IT'S VERY 90S

(art by lovestories)

James - Destiny Calling
Pulp - This Is Hardcore
Hole - Miss World
Bjork - Army of Me
The Jam - When You're Young
Oasis - Cast No Shadow
Belle & Sebastian - Like Dylan in the Movies
Spice Girls - Who Do You Think You Are
The Smiths - The Boy With The Thorn In His Side
Supergrass - Caught By The Fuzz
Blur - The Universal
Take That - Could It Be Magic

Bonus track: Meredith Brooks - Bitch

ZIP!

Tracks are .m4a format; comment if you want individual links.
If you desire additional visual accompaniment, I suggest simply staring at lovestories' cover art for "Love Snake". YEAH.

Fic: Destiny Calling [Notes and 90s Primer]

Sun, 04 Oct 2009 22:44:23 GMT

Notes
AHAHA, OH GOD, CAN YOU BELIEVE IT TOOK ME NEARLY A YEAR TO WRITE THIS THING? So, so ridiculous. Ahem.

+ My first and biggest thanks go to the absolutely fucking stellar lovestories, who held my hand on this the whole way through, playing beta and cheerleader and sounding board, as well as doing all the absolutely glorious art. THANK YOU SO, SO MUCH, YOU UNBELIEVABLY FANTASTIC PERSON, YOU PUT THE ARTISTRY IN MYY LOVE SNAKE.
+ Thanks also to everyone on the flist who supported me through this hot mess, saying nice things and reading snippets (rayslady!) and filling about polls about the 90s. I WILL SHUT UP ABOUT THIS NOW, I PROMISE.

+ There are a couple of lines lifted from Empire Records; the Belle & Sebastian lyric Morgana quotes at Arthur is from "The Boy With The Arab Strap"; Merlin uses Oasis' "Cigarettes and Alcohol" to justify his thieving ways. The title is from the James song "Destiny Calling", which had the advantage of both having the word 'destiny' in the title and being very very 90s; huge thanks to curlybeach for uploading it for me.

+ "Destiny Calling" is to the 90s as Merlin is to The Olden Days, which is to say AHAHAHA. In the 90s, there is no way a record shop in Britain would be open 'til midnight, and my Atlantic City stand-in Blackpool wouldn't have all-night casinos. That said, if you missed the 90s and/or you want to relieve some of its cultural highlights, this primer is for you.

The Destiny Calling 90s Primer
+ If you don't know who Peter Andre is, lucky you. You're in for a treat:

+ Fred Talbot and his weather map have enriched many lives, I'll tell you that much for free.

IT'S A FLOATING MODEL OF BRITAIN, AND HE STANDS ON IT TO TELL YOU THE WEATHER. Or he did. Sometimes I really miss the 90s.

+ Tamagotchis!

(image credit)

+ I am quite ashamed that I made shag bands a plot point. Um, sorry.

+ DAVID GINOLA: HE'S WORTH IT.

+ Not strictly 90s, but whatever, it's the theme from Chariots of Fire! I don't think you count as a 90s kid unless you did slo-mo running across the playground while singing this song.

+ Some 90s awfulness in the shape of B*Witched:

+ Aaaand some 90s ferocity in the shape of Republica:

+ You should watch the 'everyone dances on the roof' scene from the end of the actual Empire Records, because it is glorious.

Soundtrack!

Fic: Destiny Calling [Part Two]

Sun, 04 Oct 2009 22:01:31 GMT

Part One

Will sat on the fire escape, cigarette dangling idly between his fingers, and reflected on the madness that was Valiant Day. Arthur had sold them all up the river, Merlin had finally given in to his criminal tendencies, Gwen was sublimating her feelings in baking, Lancelot was actually pining, Gaius had a Tamagotchi, and Morgana... Well, Morgana was pretty much her usual, evil self. Maybe slightly more sadistic than usual, it was hard to tell.

"Fucking mental," he muttered, taking another drag.

"Have you got a light?"

The voice came from his left; Will looked across to see Sophia, leaning against the fire escape. She looked tired.

"Sure," he said, passing his Zippo through the railings. He watched her spark up, inhale like her life depended on it.

"Thanks."

Will stubbed his cigarette out on the metal step. "So, why'd you try to drown Arthur?"

It took Sophia by surprise, he could tell; she laughed on an exhale. "Arthur's a twat."

Will wasn't going to argue with that. "Fair enough."

"And I didn't try to drown him. Not really." She was smiling now; just a little, but it was surprising how much less scary she looked.

She gestured at the step he was sitting on. "Mind if I -"

He shook his head, scooted over to make room and she settled in beside him. They sat in silence for a few minutes, oddly companionable and not nearly as awkward as Will would have expected. He lit another cigarette.

"Shouldn't you have left by now?"

Sophia squinted at him. "Trying to get rid of me?"

"Obviously. Evil corporate types like you make me nervous."

She snorted. "Well, I quit. The scotch eggs are no longer my responsibility. I wash my hands of them." Will raised his fist in solidarity.

"You're better off out of it, I reckon," he said. "Valiant's a fucking caveman, and he makes bloody horrible music." He peered at Sophia, hamming it up. "You weren't responsible for any of that, were you?"

A laugh burst out of her again; Will decided that he liked the way she laughed, like it always caught her unawares.

"No, no," she said, shaking her head. "Believe it or not, I actually used to quite like music."

"Oh, well, I can see how that would be a plus, working in the music industry and everything."

"Fuck off," she murmurred, but she was still smiling. She dropped the stub of her cigarette, leaning forward to grind it out with her heel, and Will couldn't help but notice the flyaway wisps of hair escaping from her bun.

"It does drive you crazy, though," she said, settling back against the steps, twisting slightly towards Will. "All the relentless bullshit. I mean, I've got nothing against big corporations, and if someone's going to earn a living through someone else's talent then it might as well be me -"

"You earn a lot then," Will cut in, sneering slightly, because Sophia might be a fellow smoker and unexpectedly easy to sit next to, but she still worked for The Man.

"Tons," she replied, completely shameless, rolling the word around on her tongue, and, okay, Will didn't really have a comeback to that.

"Anyway," she went on, "it was really the teenyboppers that got to me in the end."

"The teenyboppers? Not, like, the fact that Valiant is a monumental cock and general boil on the face of modern music? The teenyboppers?"

"Fuck off," she insisted, batting her hands at him. "The thing with the teenyboppers is, right, they make all this noise, but they don't really listen. Like, nobody cares about the intrinsic value of the artistry of 'Love Snake' -"

"'Love Snake' has artistry?"

"Fuck off! It's an example. Nobody cares how horrible the music is, because they just like Valiant's body and the fact he wears see-through clothes."

"Well, yeah," said Will. "What were you expecting?"

"I don't know," Sophia sighed, "just something... Different." She shot him a sideways look. "And you can stop smirking, you work in a bloody shop. That's hardly standing up to The Man, is it?"

"Maybe, but at least I'm not a corporate stooge. And anyway -" Will nudged her "- it's an independent shop."

"Yeah, yeah."

As Sophia leaned into him to light another cigarette, Will felt suddenly as if he might be on the brink of something deep and meaningful, completely by accident. Valiant Day was fucking weird.

---

"I just don't get it," said Gwen, sweeping up what remained of the cupcakes. "Why would Lancelot feel the need to punch Valiant in the face?"

"I know, right?" offered Morgana dryly from her perch on the arm of the sofa. "He's a lover, not a fighter."

Gwen rolled her eyes. "Thank you, very helpful. I mean, I do judo! I am more than capable of defending my own honour, especially from a sleazy man-crumpet like Valiant."

There was a spluttering noise as Morgana spat out her tea. "Man-crumpet? Gwen, are you sure you didn't get hit in the head?"

"I'm fine, honestly, that's my point," said Gwen, pausing as something else struck her. "And what was all that 'I love you' stuff? With the alarm?"

"That was a declaration. Obviously." Morgana was not quite meeting her eye, so Gwen couldn't properly gauge what she was saying. This was very confusing.

"A declaration."

Morgana just sat there, swinging her legs.

"But - but, why?"

Morgana threw up her hands. "Because! Because he is Lancelot and you are Gwen, and he loves you and you love him, and it's all very sweet and wonderful, and now that you both know what everyone else has known for bloody years we can maybe talk about something else!" She stopped and chewed on her lip, still looking pointedly away from Gwen. Gwen dropped the dustpan.

"Wait, what?"

"Oh, for fuck's sake." Morgana stood up, too quickly, and her voice was too hard. "I really don't see why you're making me spell this out for you, it's hardly news." She strode over to the sink and dumped her mug, still talking and still not looking at Gwen. "What are you even doing in here, anyway? Shouldn't you be off somewhere tending Lancelot's wounds?"

"Stop it; don't be a bitch," said Gwen flatly, because she couldn't parse exactly what Morgana was getting at, but the words were starting to smart, and Morgana just span around, arms wide in an exaggerated shrug, and said, "Sorry. Default setting." She bared her teeth in a cold approximation of a grin. "Don't worry, I won't let it rub off on any of the no-doubt polite and perfectly-formed spawn that fate has in store for you."

And then she was gone, whirled out of the door even as Gwen was saying, "Morgana, what the fuck?"

When Merlin walked in a few minutes later (cushion still clutched to his chest - he was clearly interpreting Arthur's 'stay on the fucking sofa' rule with increasing flexibility) she still hadn't moved.

"Everything alright?" he asked.

"Not really," said Gwen, and threw the cupcakes in the bin.

---

"Oi," hissed Will through the staffroom door, "Merlin! Come here."

Merlin went, chancing a look at Arthur's office (door: still closed; silence: still ominous) and taking his cushion just to be on the safe side.

"Where've you been all afternoon?"

"Nowhere," came the somewhat shifty response. "It's not about that. There's a kid out there nicking CDs, and I thought you could, you know -" Will waggled his fingers in what Merlin felt to be a crude and unfair representation of his ability to manipulate the elements.

"Fine, fine," Merlin cut him off. "Hold my cushion."

The kid stood out fairly obviously, even in the busy shop, all wild-eyed and uncombed. Merlin actually quite liked dealing with the shoplifters; more often than not, they would sheepishly hand over whatever they'd pocketed, and if they didn't...

"Hi," said Merlin, planting himself in front of the boy, who froze, hand on the rack. "I'm Merlin." He gestured to his name badge. "I work here. Could you please stop stealing our stock?"

The kid bolted, and Merlin grinned, because this was the part he secretly enjoyed the most. He stretched out his hand, as inconspicuously as he could manage, and sent out tendrils of magic, invisible strings to coil around ankles and wrists, to trip and slow. Except, they didn't stop this boy; he bounded nimbly over the magic only Merlin could see, picking up his feet in a manner that was seemingly instinctive and shoving his way through the main doors.

"Shit," muttered Merlin. It had been a long time since he'd actually had to chase anybody.

---

Ten minutes later, Lancelot and Merlin hauled the shoplifter into the staffroom while Gwen rang the police. Actually catching him had been something of a challenge; all the bins at the back of the shop had mysteriously hurled themselves into Lancelot's path, and he didn't want to think about how long Merlin would have chased the kid round and round the same car if left to his own devices.

Arthur came out of his office only long enough to nod briefly at the captive and say, "Lancelot, sort this out. Merlin, stay on the fucking sofa." Merlin didn't even wince as the door slammed shut again; he was too busy frowning at the boy.

"Right," said Lancelot, turning to the shoplifter and doing something of a double-take at the kid's eyes. "What's your name, then?"

Those two startling eyes stared at him for long seconds before the boy said, in a blank monotone, "Peter Andre."

"Right," said Lancelot, as Merlin chortled from the sofa. "Peter. I just have to take a photo of you for The Wall, okay?"

'The Wall' referred to the swathe of photographs pinned up next to the whiteboard (someone had drawn the Albion Music Zone logo on there in what looked like permanent marker; Lancelot would put money on it being Morgana), each one depicting a petty criminal posing in front of the door to Arthur's office. In theory, it was supposed to help the staff identify people banned from the store; in practice, it was more of a Hall of Fame for employees past and present. From the mass of faces, Lancelot could pick out fifteen-year-old Merlin, grinning at the camera with soot all over his face; himself, three years ago, holding a CD up to his chest and blushing furiously; Morgana, face obscured by her middle finger.

"I love The Wall," said Merlin. "Sometimes, I forget that you're here because you nicked an Enya album, but The Wall always reminds me."

Peter didn't bother to hide his scorn; Lancelot had to wonder if the kid was related to Morgana.

"I liked the artwork," he muttered; privately, he thought Merlin really wasn't in a position to be laughing at other people's thievery-based misadventures.

By the time Peter and his loot of choice ("B*Witched, Peter, really?") had been amply documented from various angles, there was still no sign of the police, so Lancelot plonked the kid down at the table and pulled out his sketchbook. Draw something for Gwen, Morgana had said, so he was trying (he wasn't entirely sure if drawing Gwen and drawing something for Gwen were quite the same thing, but it was too late now, he was committed), but something was off. He smudged at the paper with his thumb. The hair was fine, the dress was fine, but there was something in Gwen's expression he couldn't quite capture. Exasperated, he looked up to see Peter squinting at the paper with a skeptical look on his face. Lancelot flushed.

"I don't feel that I need to explain my art to you, Peter," he said, pulling the sketchbook closer and shielding it with his arm.

---

"There you are," said Arthur, as he squeezed himself into the listening booth.

Morgana looked up, taking off her chunky headphones and hooking them back on the stand.

"I just thought I'd see if we could fiddle the books enough to come up with nine grand..." She indicated the thick ledger in her lap. "We can't."

"Ah," said Arthur.

"Sorry." Morgana patted the patch of carpet beside her. "Come. Sit. Join me."

Arthur obliged, glad to have a reason not to go back to his office just yet. It was nice, squashed up here in the cramped booth, two sets of feet wedged against the door, holding it closed.

"This is nice," he said.

"Mmm," agreed Morgana, and then she put down her pen and turned to look at Arthur.

"You'll have to talk to him sooner or later."

It was a statement Arthur couldn't argue with, because pretending he didn't know who Morgana was talking about was futile, and "Oh no I won't" just sounded churlish, not to mention distinctly un-managerial. So he said nothing, maintaining a dignified silence until Morgana poked him savagely in the ribs.

"Bloody ow!"

"Well, don't ignore me when I'm trying to help you, then! God, you people."

Arthur sighed deeply. It was a touch over-dramatic, but he figured that he'd earned it at this point. Valiant Day was a bloody disaster.

"I'm not ignoring you. And I'm not ignoring Merlin either, not really."

Morgana's eyebrow begged to differ.

"I'm not! And if I am, it's only because I don't want to have to fire him. I just need a bit of time to come up with a plan of action."

"Arthur," said Morgana, "seriously. It's going to be alright."

Her eyes were sincere, stripped of any of her usual layers of cynicism and scorn. It was very strange.

"And you know this for a fact, do you?"

"Yep," she said, clear and confident. "Looks like you're stuck with him."

"Oh, fantastic."

"Hey." Morgana poked him again. "Anything's better than posh isolation, Arthur."

"You know, the inspirational lyrics of Belle & Sebastian are much more soothing when you're not wielding them with all the finesse of a hooligan with a length of pipe."

"Eh," shrugged Morgana. "You're not big on subtlety."

"Yes, well," said Arthur, mildly disgruntled by this character assassination, "that's enough about me. What about you? Why are you hiding in a listening booth if you're so certain everything's going to be fine?"

"No reason. The usual. It's tiring being omniscient, you know."

Arthur wanted to scoff, but something about Morgana's face, pale and drawn and suddenly so much younger than he'd ever seen her look, prompted him to hold his tongue and pat her awkwardly on the elbow, instead.

"Sophia never used to wear so much black, did she?" said Morgana suddenly.

"No," said Arthur, quite serious, "I think she's still mourning the death of our relationship," and he had to dodge another violent poking attack from Morgana, but it was worth it to see her stick her tongue out at him.

They lapsed back into silence, and after a while he said, "We should probably get back to work."

"Yeah, probably," said Morgana, and put her head on his shoulder.

---

"I wasn't asleep!" said Merlin, fuzzy-mouthed as he startled awake on the sofa.

"A likely story," said Arthur, knocking Merlin's feet off the cushions so he could sit down beside him. "What happened to the shoplifter?"

"What, Peter Andre? The police came, he'll probably get off with a caution."

"That's good," said Arthur, nodding, and when Merlin snuck a look at him he didn't appear to be about to barricade himself in the office again, so he took a deep breath and said, "I'm sorry, Arthur."

He felt Arthur shift beside him, and he was fairly certain that if Arthur was, in fact, going to kill him, he would have done so already, but you never knew, so he rushed on before he was interrupted and/or murdered, "I'm sorry about the money, and I'm sorry you had to lie to your father, and I'm sorry for shouting at you and doubting your integrity. I think you're very, um, integral."

"Integral?" A smile was quirking up the corner of Arthur's mouth. Merlin felt a bit silly, but it was better by a long shot than being murdered, so he just grinned and said, "Yeah, you know, integral. To the shop."

"Ah, of course," said Arthur softly, the smile still playing on his lips. He still wasn't looking at Merlin, though, and Merlin was reluctant to push his luck any further, but he kind of couldn't help himself, so he just clasped his hands in his lap and said, "What are you going to do?"

Arthur sighed so heavily that Merlin was sorry he'd asked, sorry he'd taken the money, sorry he'd ever opened the door to that light-fingered Enya fan.

"I don't know, Merlin. What can I do? I mean, I could tell my father, but then you'd probably be arrested, and I'd probably be fired, and the shop would be doomed to the clutches of the Albion Music Zone. Or, I do nothing, wait for the bank to tell my father, and the same thing happens, only with even more yelling. Alternatively, I could stump up the nine grand myself -"

"Nine thousand, one hundred and four," said Merlin under his breath.

"- thus cockblocking both the law and my father, but losing my only chance to save Camelot Records from The Man. Whichever way you look at it, we're fucked."

"Fucked," echoed Merlin. He stared at his hands for a while, and when he finally looked up, Arthur was studying him intently. Merlin suddenly felt an overwhelming desire to brush his teeth, the dry and awkward aftertaste of his impromptu nap still lingering on his tongue.

"I am sorry," he said again, somewhat redundantly. "I just wanted to help, and I thought... It was so weird, I had this, like, epiphany, and suddenly everything just opened up in front of me, and I could see what I had to do, so I did it. Like there was a plan. Like, I dunno, like destiny."

Arthur was looking at him rather strangely, so Merlin cleared his throat and added, "'You gotta make it happen', you know?"

"You shouldn't listen to Liam," said Arthur, bumping his shoulder against Merlin's. "You're already shockingly over-stimulated."

Too bloody right, thought Merlin, leaning into the touch.

---

Once Merlin had dozed off on the couch, Lancelot had retreated to the fire escape, sitting with his sketchbook on the sun-warmed metal and trying to work out what his problem was.

"You have many problems, my friend," said Morgana, sticking her head out through the back door. "Fortunately, most of them are fixable. Not your hair, though." She shot him a lethal smile. "Sorry about that."

Lancelot ran a hand through his hair self-consciously before returning his attention to the pressing matter at hand. "This is such a bad idea."

"No," said Morgana, coming to lean on the railings, "it's a fantastic idea. You draw something for Gwen to show how much you care, she succumbs to your manly-yet-sensitive charms, kiss kiss kiss, the end. Fantastic!"

"I suppose so." Lancelot was unconvinced.

"Look." Morgana scuffed her foot back and forth, pushed her hair out of her face. She really did have a lot of piercings. "Gwen is basically the best person you or I will ever know."

"Right."

"So show her that. Show her how much you - oh, fucking hell, Lancelot!"

"It's not finished!" said Lancelot, clutching the sketchbook defensively to his chest.

"What the hell is that?"

"It's - well, it's supposed to be -"

"Is that supposed to be Gwen? Are you shitting me? She's not a fucking concept! She's not some, some damsel that just hangs around windows looking wet and waiting for a bloody unicorn to put its head in her lap! Jesus." Morgana looked almost bewildered, pacing up and down by the bins. It was making Lancelot nervous.

"Gwen doesn't even like Tennyson," she said, more to herself than anything.

"I told you this was a bad idea," said Lancelot, hopelessness descending like a raincloud. "I told her I loved her and she just stared at me. How exactly is me drawing a picture going to change anything?"

"You don't need to change anything, that's the point. This is destiny, Lancelot. You just have to wait for it to happen to you." Morgana sighed.

"Oh," said Lancelot, scrunching up his face, because that didn't sound quite right.

"It's inevitable, really," said Morgana, and she sounded so sad that Lancelot had to fight the (no-doubt suicidal) urge to stroke her hair. His hand must have twitched or something, though, because Morgana looked at it accusingly and tossed her head. "You just need to stop being a bloody idiot."

"Right," said Lancelot, lamely.

---

Morgana left Lancelot on the fire escape to think about what he'd done and dodged Merlin, slumped on the couch radiating relief (You're welcome, she thought, rolling her eyes at the obliviousness of boys), to shut herself in the bathroom. Methodically, she locked the door, ran the cold tap until the sink was nearly overflowing, tied back her hair, and plunged her face into the water, holding it there until her lungs were burning and her mind was clear.

Gasping, she sat down heavily, back against the door. She wiped at her dripping face with the sleeve of her shirt. She couldn't stay in here long.

It made her so dizzy, sometimes, this thing she had. She could see the future stretching out in front of her, laying itself down like train tracks under her feet. And that was okay, that was manageable; she had taught herself to keep on walking, and to prevent her friends from derailing their lives too horribly, and she played music loud enough to block out thought. Except she couldn't close her eyes against it, and if she looked at the tracks instead of at the horizon she felt strange and dizzy, and she couldn't stop walking, and she was still really annoyed about that whole thing with The Sixth Sense.

But she was used to knowing, and today... She hadn't known to expect Gwen's arm tight around her waist, holding her back, pulling their bodies flush together. She hadn't seen it coming. And for all she'd thought about it (or rather, very pointedly hadn't thought about it, a lot, every night), it was still a shock, that rush of contact, heat in her belly. She'd have thought that merited at least a heads-up.

"Fuck," she said out loud, and stood up, pulling the bobble from her hair and combing quickly with her fingers. Pretending to file things in Arthur's office was probably her best bet for avoiding Gwen, she reasoned, so she shouldered her way out of the bathroom. She made it halfway across the staffroom before she heard something that made her freeze.

"Merlin," she said tightly, "this isn't Belle & Sebastian."

"Isn't it?" said Merlin, feigning ignorance at this horrific violation of the Blue Smartie By-Law.

"No, it isn't." She could hear the beat bleeding in from the shopfloor, loud and obnoxious. "It's the bloody Spice Girls."

"Huh."

"I didn't put the Spice Girls on, Merlin."

Merlin was fidgeting now, foot jigging along in time with the beat. "Didn't you?"

"No, Merlin."

"Huh."

Given adequate time and resources (three minutes and an unflinching death glare), Morgana suspected she could make Merlin sing like a cheap canary, but his recent escapades seemed to have left him under the mistaken impression that he was a person who was good at hiding things. Also, the Spice Girls had been playing for far too long already, so she settled for grabbing Merlin's arm and yanking him up from the sofa, ignoring his cushion-related protests.

"If I kill someone," she told him, tugging him towards the shopfloor, "you can bear witness to the fact I was provoked."

She shoved them through the double doors with more vehemence than door-opening really called for, and barely made it three steps before stopping in her tracks and gaping, Merlin pulling up beside her.

Gwen was dancing on the counter. Gwen was dancing on the counter to the Spice Girls, and Gaius was doing some approximation of the twist while he dusted down his vinyl, and Morgana was having trouble processing the fact that Gwen was dancing on the counter to the Spice Girls while customers gawped up at her.

Something thudded into Morgana from behind; she turned to see Lancelot, his eyes practically falling out of his head, and something light and fantastic started bubbling up in her chest like a fountain, running over and out until the grin stretching her face felt almost ludicrous.

"Do you see," she said, grabbing his chin and making him really look for once, "do you see her?" She turned back to Gwen, who met her stupid, face-splitting smile with a challenge, lifting her chin into it, unbuttoning her cardigan, shimmying it down her shoulders and throwing it to the ground. Morgana took off, running down the aisle with Merlin's delighted laugh ringing in her ears, and for once it didn't matter that every time she closed her eyes she saw Gwen's fingers tangling in the cord of Lancelot's stupid gap-year sea-shell necklace, she couldn't give a shit, because Gwen was dancing on the counter to the Spice Girls, and it was the best thing, the best thing this stupid day could have given her.

She hoisted herself up, breathless, and Gwen grabbed her hand to pull her to her feet. She stood for a second, ridiculous grin refusing to budge.

"I hate the Spice Girls," she said, and Gwen laughed, taking hold of one wrist to twirl her out and away, just missing the till, precarious and wonderful on top of the counter.

"Sorry," Gwen said as she span Morgana back towards her, and Morgana tried her hardest to focus on Gwen's face as opposed to the way the strap of her vest was threatening to slip off one shoulder, "I couldn't find any Meredith Brooks."

---

Arthur broke up the impromptu dance party in a surprisingly unhurried fashion; Merlin would have assumed he'd simply got better at tuning out his employees' preposterous antics if he hadn't seen Arthur leaning against the door of the staffroom, smirking at the sight of an overexcited female customer grinding against a clearly baffled Lancelot. When the festivities were finally halted, Gwen and Morgana tripped off to the corner shop in search of biscuits, leaving Lancelot frowning at the till. Merlin, in no hurry to risk the new and fragile balance of nobody-killing-anyone he had going on with Arthur, took himself back to the couch.

He was sitting there, contemplating the fact that Valiant Day had clearly done something very strange to the collective consciousness of everyone in the shop, when Will came in through the back door. He stumbled over to the couch, looking slightly dazed, and dropped onto the cushions. Merlin looked at him patiently, waiting for him to explain his afternoon-long absence; when no explanation seemed to be forthcoming, he jabbed him in the ribs, somewhat less patiently.

"Oi!" Will rubbed his side and pouted, and then went back to staring into space with his mouth open, so Merlin rolled his eyes and prompted, "Well?"

"D'you ever think, right," said Will, almost to himself, "that some things are just, like, supposed to happen?"

Merlin blinked.

"What," he said flatly, because if Will was surrendering to fate, Will who mocked Merlin mercilessly for reading Mystic Meg, then things were stranger than Merlin had previously suspected. Clearly there had been some sort of mix-up and the Robinson's Fruit & Barley in the back of the cupboard had been replaced with Robinson's Eau de Destiny, and everyone had been drinking it without realising. That was the only possible explanation.

"I don't know, mate," said Will earnestly, leaning forward, "if it hadn't been for Valiant Day, and you being a total klepto, and Lance finally pulling his finger out and telling Gwen how he feels, then I might never -"

Intrigued as Merlin was to discover what had re-wired Will's brain, he cut him off with a wave of his hand at the sound coming from the shopfloor.

"Did you hear that?"

It came again, louder, kind of an angry whooshing sound, and it was closely followed by a scream, more than one scream, so Merlin legged it, Will right behind him and Arthur bursting out of his office to follow, pelting through the double doors and skidding halfway down the aisle before he really stopped to see what was going on.

It was the kid, the pint-sized shoplifter with the terrible taste in music, wild-eyed and trailing fire from the tips of his fingers. Oh, fuck.

The customers had mostly ducked down behind the racks or taken cover behind Gaius' booth, but Lancelot was still at the front of the store, brandishing the fire extinguisher they kept under the counter and looking vaguely queasy.

"Go," Merlin said under his breath, pushing Will towards Gaius and safety, giving Arthur a shove with something more than his negligible upper-body strength, and then, louder, "Hey, Peter."

The boy turned, his handful of flames flaring ominously when he saw Merlin standing in the middle of the aisle. He stared for a minute. Merlin stayed still until he realised he was holding his hand out like Peter Andre the pyromaniac shoplifter was a horse and he was Robert Redford, at which point he promptly felt like an idiot and lowered his arm. He flung it up again a second later when Peter's face twisted and a fucking fireball hurtled towards Merlin's face. .

Merlin wasn't honestly expecting his arm-shield to do much in the way of preventing third-degree burns, but as the seconds ticked by and his face remained un-melted, he gingerly opened his eyes. His hand was glowing, alight, flames licking at his skin without burning, like he and this kid were doing no more than playing an unusually flammable game of catch.

"Huh," he said, and then wondered what the hell he was supposed to do with the fire dancing over his hand; he settled on trying to shake it off, and ended up scorching the floor.

Merlin could feel the hush that descended on the shop, knew that if he turned around Arthur would be gaping, a million questions on the tip of his tongue, so he just looked steadily at Peter, who was trembling all over, looking the way Merlin had felt every time he'd accidentally exploded a caterpillar or flooded his mother's bathroom, like he couldn't quite believe what he'd just done.

Merlin stepped towards him.

"It's going to be alright." Peter started to shake his head, the flames in his hand burning more fiercely, so Merlin stepped closer again, said, "It is, believe me, it's going to be fine."

"He'll never let me - not after this," the boy mumbled, and Merlin had to bite back a laugh at the realisation that - "Wait, do you - do you want to work here?"

"Merlin," said Arthur from behind him, but Merlin waved him off.

"Seriously?"

Peter nodded. "I just thought... There are people here, like me, and I wanted - "

He broke off as Gwen and Morgana stumbled through the front door, giggling, their arms full of packets of biscuits; they stopped dead at the sight of the smoke and the mess and the cowering customers; Morgana barely got as far as "What the -" before Lancelot grabbed them both by the arm and yanked them back behind the counter.

"Don't look at them, look at me," said Merlin, his voice steadier than his nerves, because this kid still looked as if he could go off like a rocket at any second, but Peter wasn't listening to him, he was straining to hear Lancelot, who was hissing, " - the shoplifter, from before!"

"Wait, that was today?" exclaimed Morgana, her voice loud enough to send sparks shooting out of Peter's fingers. "Why the fuck didn't anyone tell me?"

"Merlin," said Arthur again, closer this time, and Merlin said, "Leave it, Arthur," through clenched teeth, thought back and registered Arthur's indignant yelp as he was sent sliding safely back towards Gaius' booth. Wow, he was going to get in trouble for that later.

"Listen, Peter," he started, and the boy's face twisted for an ugly moment before he roared, "MY NAME'S NOT FUCKING PETER!"

And then fireballs were shooting out of his fingers again, one after another, fast, too fast for Merlin to do anything other than try and direct them away from people; he winced as ROCK AND POP: ABBA - ADAM ANT was reduced to a smouldering mess, hoping Arthur wouldn't take it out of his wages. His power had never felt like this before, thrumming strong and insistent down his arms, guiding him, instinctive as a birthright.

"Morgana - don't - " he panted, as she ducked out from underneath Lancelot's arm and hopped over the desk. She strode down the aisle, casually leaning out of the way of any stray fireballs, until she reached the boy; the touch of her hand on his shoulder stilled him long enough for her to say, voice clear and unwavering, ringing out through the shop, "His name is Mordred."

Merlin heard the wail of fire engines in the distance, flicked a final fireball into a Valiant Day poster, breathed a sigh of relief, and fell over.

---

The atmosphere in the staffroom was one of dazed silence.

Morgana and Gwen were flanking Merlin, crammed on his narrow couch while Will and Lancelot perched opposite them on the edge of the table. Arthur was still outside with the firemen; he'd refused to close the shop, so Gaius was stranded at the till, muttering about the flame resistance of vinyl as opposed to CDs; Peter Andre - Mordred, Lancelot corrected himself - had been taken away simply because no one was quite sure what to do with him, aside from Morgana, who had looped a lanyard round his neck, grinned, and said, "See you tomorrow." Arthur probably wouldn't press charges, Lancelot reasoned; once he started talking to the police he'd lose at least half his workforce, up on theft and assualt charges and whatever else. Conspiracy to commit fraud, probably.

"Did that actually just happen?" said Will finally. "I mean, it wasn't just a mass hallucination or anything, was it?"

"No, it happened," said Merlin, glumly; Gwen gave his shoulder a reassuring squeeze.

"Right," said Will.

Morgana and Gwen weren't looking at each other, and Gwen's jaw was tight. Apparently Morgana hadn't told anyone about her weird psychic thing.

The whole situation was bizarre, thought Lancelot. After he'd found out about Merlin, he'd just assumed he was something of a one-off, that this was just one more thing about him that was pleasantly odd, like his ears and his extreme fondness for conkers, but now there was Morgana, and Mordred, and that line of thought made Lancelot dizzy if he followed it too much further, so he stopped. Merlin, though...

"So how are we going to raise this money, then?" he said, almost before he thought of it.

The others stared blankly at him for a moment, until Morgana rolled her eyes and said, "Do tell us what you're on about, Lancelot."

"Nine thousand, one hundred and four pounds," he said, clasping his hands in front of him. "Merlin saved us, now we save Merlin."

"Excellent plan," said Gwen, and she smiled at him so warmly that Lancelot had to fight down a blush.

"That's, wow, that's really," said Merlin, rather flustered, "but, um, technically I think Morgana did most of the day-saving."

"Be that as it may," said Morgana, and if Lancelot didn't know she was a very angry and confused (not to mention terrifying) young woman, he might have said the look she shot at Merlin was fond, "you're the one who's facing the clink, so. Come on, you lot, empty your pockets."

The combined contents of their wallets, even with the sixty pounds Lancelot had stashed in his locker for art supplies, did not look particularly impressive piled on the table.

"Well, at least that's the one hundred and four taken care of," Gwen said bracingly.

"We have to think bigger than this," said Will, face creased into a frown.

"I could sell the Micra," offered Morgana. "Mike from the fruit and veg place was asking about it before."

Arthur came in, one hand tugging wretchedly at his tie, paused for a second when he saw them all leaning over the table, then said tiredly, "There's a news crew out there, now. Bloody Granada Tonight."

Will's eyes widened.

"Right, you lot, in there," he said, pointing to Arthur's office. "ITV. Watch and learn."

He jogged out into the shop, leaving the rest of them furrowing their brows at each other in confusion until Lancelot said, "Well, should we -"

They traipsed into the office and huddled around the ancient black and white set Arthur kept in a corner; Arthur fiddled with it, trying to tune it to Channel 3, until Merlin sighed and swished his fingers at it, sending the picture flickering into life.

The reporter, sporting a bushy moustache, and a tie that offended Lancelot's artistic sensibilities and also his eyes, was standing in front of Camelot Records, wittering about the mysterious indoor pyrotechnic display and traumatised customers.

"Why are we - " Arthur started, before Morgana cut him off, squawking "Look, there he is!" in a most un-Morganalike way.

Will had shouldered his way in next to the reporter and was grinning straight into the camera.

"Excuse me, we're filming," said Mr Moustache, somewhat icily.

"I know," said Will, " I work in the shop."

"Well, in that case," said Mr Moustache, shoving the microphone into Will's face. "Can you tell us anything about this afternoon's horrific events?"

"Oh, it was bloody horrible, I'm probably scarred for life," said Will brightly. "Really, really awful stuff. The thing is, though, we're having a party tonight, here at the shop. Ten pounds on the door, everyone welcome, bring your friends."

"And this is to help you all put the pain behind you and move on with your lives, presumably," said Mr Moustache, looking skeptical.

"Yes!" said Will. "Well, that and throwing off the shackles of our corporate oppressors." He pumped his fist in the air. "Damn the man! Save Camelot!"

Will's reappearance in the staffroom was met with thunderous applause and copious amounts of back-slapping; Arthur, who had clearly lost his mind in the heat of the moment, even gave him a celebratory noogie.

"Right," said Morgana, after Arthur had apologised. "Plan of action. Lancelot, you can draw pictures of people, then give them your puppy-dog eyes until they hand over lots of money."

"My band could play," Will suggested. "I'll ring Tony and Sid, we could set up on the roof."

"We'll auction off all this leftover Valiant Day crap," said Arthur. "Charge extra for anything with his blood on it."

"Gwen, you could sell your cupcakes," suggested Lancelot.

"No cupcakes," Gwen and Morgana said immediately, but not even the weirdness of whatever was going on between those two could quell the warm feeling that welled up in Lancelot's chest every time he glanced at Merlin, who kept opening and closing his mouth, overwhelmed.

---

Will crouched on the roof as the sky darkened to dusk, attempting to untangle yards of cable and cursing Sid's inability to put anything away properly. The street below was a flurry of activity, people setting up speakers and bunting and folding tables begged from the coffee shop on the corner. Arthur was in his element, bellowing directions and gesturing at things emphatically, and Morgana was supervising Arthur. His admitedly decent auction idea aside, Will suspected that most of Arthur's fundraising experience had been gained at village fêtes; he kept using words like 'tombola', and therefore had to be watched at all times.

"Hey."

Sophia appeared at the top of the fire escape, and it didn't matter that Will was due a bollocking for spending most of the afternoon bunking off work to argue with his boss' ex-girlfriend in a coffee shop, it didn't matter that she was a (reformed) corporate stooge, he wanted to kiss her so badly that he didn't quite know what to do with himself.

"I saw you on the telly," she said, coming to sit beside him.

"Big Granada Tonight fan, are we?"

"Oh, yeah," she said, and he added her laugh to the tally he wasn't sure when he had started keeping.

"Me too," he admitted, smiling sheepishly. "I'm hoping I'll get to meet Fred the weatherman. I've always wanted a go on his floating map." He looked away, suddenly awkward. "You staying for the party, then?"

Sophia waved her hand in front of his face, displaying the smudged inky stamp. "I had to give money to Arthur, it was very unpleasant."

"You do know corporate stooges pay double, right?"

"Fuck off," she said, elbowing him, and Will was perfectly content, just sitting there and grinning like an idiot, until Sophia tugged the cable gently out of his hands.

"Will, do you like boats?"

"No," Will said hoarsely, " I can't swim."

"Good," said Sophia, and kissed him.

---

Arthur counted the money, and then he counted it again to make sure he wasn't dreaming. He didn't count it a third time; Casio made very reliable calculators.

Out on the shopfloor, things had devolved into merry chaos. Arthur wasn't sure he wanted to know what was in the brownies Gaius was selling, but they certainly seemed to be stimulating cash flow, so he wasn't about to complain. Meanwhile, Morgana was making a killing telling fortunes in one of the listening booths, the punters evidently not dissuaded by her fearsome scowl and her refusal to wear any kind of costume. Arthur had instructed Gwen to take lots of pictures.

He caught sight of his father pushing through the crowd, wearing a face like thunder and clutching a horribly familiar cashbag. Arthur swallowed, grabbed one of Gaius' brownies and hastily stuffed it into his mouth. Having scanned the store to no avail, Uther was heading towards the counter, where - God have mercy - Merlin was showing Mordred (shiny new lanyard around his neck and a rather alarming smile on his face) how to use the till. Arthur couldn't see a way this encounter could possibly end well. Sighing, he grabbed another brownie, and decided to go the long way round to the till. He had something to get from the office.

"And you are how old?"

By the time Arthur reached the counter, Uther was peering at Mordred's face.

"Sixteen," Mordred said promptly, and before Uther could argue with the obvious and audacious lie, the boy fluttered his fingers, just once, sending Uther's eyes sliding out of focus.

"Right you are," he said, and Arthur thought if he was going to dwell on the implications of the fact that he now apparently employed an underage pyromaniac, one who performed Jedi mind tricks on his father to boot, there was a good chance of his head exploding, so he repressed it instead. Sometimes, Arthur had found, the old ways were the best ways, and repression was a Pendragon specialty.

"Father," he said loudly, and Uther turned just in time to miss the phenomenally indiscreet high-five Merlin bestowed upon Mordred. Before Uther could say anything, Arthur shoved the cashbag at his chest, hard enough to draw an audible gasp from Merlin, the girl.

"There you go, Father, sorry about that. Bit of a mix-up in the office, you know how these things happen." Uther's eyes were starting to bulge dangerously, so Arthur went on, feeling a giddiness that he sincerely hoped wasn't brownie-related, "That's yesterday's take, and today's. We've made a bit of a killing, actually. I'll just take this, shall I?" He eased the first, flyer-stuffed cashbag out of Uther's grip. "Wouldn't want them to get muddled up again."

When Uther finally spoke, his voice was cold. "In a matter of days, Arthur, this is going to be the property of the Albion Music Zone and not a dead weight on my books. I suggest you watch, carefully, and learn how to actually run a business instead of play-acting at it."

"Oh, I'm not play-acting," said Arthur, almost surprised at how level his voice sounded, "and you're not going to sell to the AMZ. You're going to sell Camelot Records to me."

Uther laughed, right in his face, loud and disbelieving.

"I'm serious, Father. I've got a business plan, and a bank loan, and a customer base -" he indicated the people packing the shop, at least a third of whom were openly staring at him and Uther "- who would prefer to give their money to a locally-owned independent shop rather than a faceless corporation."

"It's true," Merlin piped up, brandishing a sheaf of papers. "We did a survey."

"So, if that's everything," said Arthur, steely-eyed, and inclined his head towards the door; he couldn't quite believe it when Uther actually left.

Arthur loosened his tie, closed his eyes, exhaled steadily. He'd have to see about sorting out a loan and a business plan, now that he'd sort of committed himself; something that upheld the principles behind Camelot Records.

"Who wants to set Valiant's face on fire?" he said into the hush.

The place erupted into cheers, "We Are The Champions" kicked in on the sound system, and Arthur opened his eyes to see Merlin grinning at him, huge and bright.

---

One of Will's idiot bandmates had somehow managed to blow all the lights on the roof, so Gwen was up there, digging around in the fuse box and cursing Valiant Day, when someone coughed behind her and she dropped her torch on her foot.

"Ow, fuck!"

"Sorry, sorry," said Lancelot, rushing forward, "I didn't mean to scare you. I just thought I'd see if you wanted a hand?" His voice lilted upwards at the end of the sentence, so endearing that Gwen curbed the annoyance in her tone when she said, "It's fine, honestly, I know what I'm doing. My dad's an electrician."

She relocated her torch, flipped the appropriate switch, and the roof was flooded with light again. "There," she said, satisfied, dusting her hands on her jeans. "Come on, let's go back down."

"Gwen, wait." Lancelot was standing, hands jammed awkwardly in his pockets, looking at her like he was about to say something important, and Gwen really, really didn't want to hear what it was.

"Lancelot, I don't - "

"Oh, no, I know," he said, his small smile vaguely wistful and entirely beautiful, entirely able to send her stomach skipping all over the place, and God, why couldn't she just - "I just wanted to, you know..." He trailed off again.

Gwen stepped forward on an impulse, pressed her palm gently to his chest.

"You're lovely," she said, because he was, with his warm eyes and his floppy hair and his sketchbook. She stood there, his heart beating under her hand, and tried to picture herself in another life, a life with this boy who would love her, would never hurt her, never storm out of a room, never drive too fast or say anything sharp, never dance with her on a table or -

"Yeah," said Lancelot sadly, "No." He huffed out a breath, half a laugh. "Today has been so strange. I never thought, you know, not really, but then Morgana said -"

Gwen curled her fingers automatically, the shells on his necklace digging ridges into her fingers.

"What did Morgana say, exactly?"

---

It was dim in the listening booth, and quiet, faint light filtering in through the mottled glass in the door. Sitting on the floor with the headphones on, soft and snug over her ears, Morgana could almost block out the tangle of the day; she didn't want to think about Gwen, or Lancelot, or the fact that Merlin could always be trusted to fall on his feet, nine lives still intact.

She was doing very well at not thinking about Gwen until Gwen slid back the door of the booth and settled in beside her. Their legs touched; Morgana could feel the heat of Gwen through the denim.

"So you're psychic now," said Gwen softly, giving her room to explain, but Morgana couldn't; it had been so long that she didn't know how to begin, so Gwen went on, "I always thought you were just a know-it-all."

Gwen's hand was brushing against Morgana's knee; they were touching skin-on-skin through the holes in Morgana's fishnets.

"It's all a mess," Morgana said finally. "I mean, it's always been a mess, but now... There's stuff I see, but then it doesn't happen." She looked at Gwen. "Like you and Lancelot."

"Ah."

"Yeah."

"I spoke to Lancelot," Gwen said, trying and failing to hide the strange smile quirking up the corners of her mouth. "He said you gave him some, um, interesting advice."

"It was fucking excellent advice," said Morgana stubbornly, because it would have been, if anything had worked out the way it was supposed to.

"You did get one thing right," said Gwen, and she was closer now, her breath dancing warm over Morgana's cheek.

"What was that, then?"

"I do hate Tennyson," said Gwen, and she was so near now, Morgana could count the freckles dusted across her face, could barely catch her breath for wanting her.

"Morgana?"

"Hmm," said Morgana, because her mouth was dry and all her words were gone.

"Fuck destiny," said Gwen, and kissed her, hot and sweet and open-mouthed, curling her tongue around Morgana's and then pulling back, eyes wide in shock.

Morgana licked her lips and wondered how exactly she had managed to fuck this up within the first ten seconds.

"No, it's not, it's nothing bad," said Gwen, and the skin of her neck was hot under Morgana's hand, and her pupils were kind of blown, so maybe, maybe - "It's just, I've never kissed anyone with, um, their tongue pierced."

"Oh," said Morgana, and she grinned, wide and filthy, "oh, Gwen, you have no idea," and pulled her back in, kissing like they were drunk on it, reckless, infinite possibility stretching out ahead of them.

---

At some point, once the majority of the customers had trailed off into the night and the executive decision had been made to leave the stragglers to sleep it off on the floor, the staff had drifted up to the roof, where strings of lights twinkled against the dark sky and Arthur had officially overturned the Blue Smartie By-Law and taken control of the boombox. Merlin liked Blur as much as anyone, which was fortunate, since "The Universal" was playing for the fourth time in a row; he could see Arthur singing along under his breath, and it was making Merlin's insides go all funny.

He eased Mordred's head off his shoulder and settled him carefully on the bench. Looking at him, he felt a sudden rush of fondness that should have been strange, given that the kid had nearly set his head on fire. Still, Merlin thought, looking around at his friends, who were wonderful, and had defied God and Uther and the licensing laws to keep him out of prison, strange seemed to be working okay for him so far.

"Heyyy, Paul Daniels," Arthur said as he approached.

"It saddens me that Paul Daniels is the most topical magical reference you could come up with," Merlin said, sitting down beside him and stretching his legs out. "It really does, Arthur, it makes me sad."

"Yeah, yeah," said Arthur without heat, and then he kind of squinted at Merlin. "So who else knows, then? About your - " he wiggled his fingers half-heartedly, and Merlin was really going to come up with a shorthand that didn't scream 'blithering idiot', and then teach it to everybody.

"Oh," he said, "well, Will's known forever, really, and Lancelot since last year."

"Lancelot?" Arthur said, surprised.

"Yeah, remember that thing with the pigeon?"

"Oh," said Arthur, "oh, right. Christ." He started laughing.

"What?" said Merlin, who had not pictured the conversation going quite like this.

"This thing today, with the money. Couldn't you just have, you know, magicked some more up and saved us all this hassle?"

"It really doesn't work like that," muttered Merlin, and then because Arthur was being a prat, added, "So, Will and Sophia, hmmm?"

Arthur groaned. "I hope they'll be very happy together, truly." He glanced over at the couple in question; they were kissing, and they kept breaking off to say mean things to each other, laugh, and press their mouths together again. "It's Lancelot I feel sorry for."

Lancelot was eating a brownie and looking forlorn, trying not to watch Gwen and Morgana dancing together, and being consoled by Gaius, which was depressing in and of itself.

"I think he'll be alright," said Merlin. "I know someone who might be interested. She's into destiny and Enya, they've got loads in common."

Arthur snorted, then fell into the kind of silence Merlin had always thought would be less awkward if he smoked.

"You could have told me, you know," said Arthur, not looking at him.

"I'm sorry I didn't," Merlin said quietly, and Arthur nodded, exhaled like he was preparing for something, and said, "I'm sorry I broke your shag band."

"Huh?"

Arthur's mouth curved into a smile; he leaned over, took hold of Merlin's wrist, and rubbed his thumb over the two remaining bands there.

"Your shag band," he repeated. "I broke it, and I've been reliably informed that means you have to - how did Morgana put it? - give it up, as it were."

"Nngh," was all Merlin could manage, because Arthur's thumb was still stroking back and forth over his wrist, and also Arthur had said 'shag', twice. His incoherence only made Arthur smirk harder, though, so Merlin pulled himself together enough to say, "That Morgana, she certainly knows her stuff."

"Indeed," agreed Arthur, tugging on Merlin's wrist to bring him closer; Merlin went, his face stopping centimetres from Arthur's. Arthur waited, staring him down with a smile in his eyes, and Merlin, fizzing with the giddy certainty that he could do this, that he could do this and it would be alright, lowered his eyelashes and said, throatily, "You know, those bracelets are Gwen's, and I'm pretty sure Morgana would have something to say about you -"

"For fuck's sake, shut up," growled Arthur (growled, Merlin thought delightedly, this was so ridiculous), and fisted his free hand in the front of Merlin's seasonally-inappropriate leather jacket, and kissed him, and kissed him.

They had a point, thought Merlin, high on Arthur and Blur and shoplifters and magical fireballs, these people who were into destiny. Sometimes - even if you hadn't known to expect it, even if you'd stopped hoping, even if you'd decided that pining for your boss was more trouble than it was worth - it really, really, really could happen. Even on Valiant Day.

---

Notes and 90s Primer

Fic: Destiny Calling [Part One]

Sun, 04 Oct 2009 19:45:40 GMT

Prologue

Part One

"What I don't understand," said Lancelot carefully, "is why you didn't just use your, you know, your thing."

Merlin's anguished moan was smothered by his arms; he sat beside Lancelot on the kerb outside the shop, wan and desperate-looking in the morning light.

"I don't know! I don't know! I just, it felt like cheating, and by the time I thought it might actually be a good idea it was too late, and now Arthur's going to murder me to death..." He trailed off into mournful silence and Lancelot took pity on him, reaching over to clap him on the shoulder. On the other side of Merlin, Will snorted, crushing his cigarette beneath his heel as he got to his feet.

"Merlin, mate, this is without question the stupidest fucking thing you have ever done, and I've seen you do a lot of stupid things."

Lancelot wasn't sure where Will was going with this, but it didn't seem to be helping Merlin that much; if anything, the slump of his shoulders was even more dejected. He seemed to have turned faintly green; Lancelot surreptitiously nudged his sketchbook out of the line of fire of any potential vomit.

"I mean, seriously," Will went on, jamming his hands into his pockets, "Why the fuck would you need that much money? Nine grand, Merlin - "

"Nine thousand, one hundred and four pounds," Merlin interjected miserably, and Lancelot patted his shoulder again. "I counted it twice."

"It's not that bad," Lancelot said comfortingly, shooting a pointed glance at Will. "You did what you thought was right, didn't you? Everybody makes mistakes; Arthur'll understand."

"Yeah, good luck with that," scoffed Will. "Listen, Merlin, can't you just - you know - magic some more back up?"

"I really don't think -" started Lancelot, as Merlin hissed "Shhh!" somewhat feebly, checking for anyone in earshot while Will waved his hand at them, dismissive.

"Don't you think I've tried that already?" croaked Merlin. "I've been trying all night, and the best I've come up with is fucking Monopoly money!" He dropped his head back into his hands. "I am so incredibly fucked."

Lancelot couldn't really argue with that at this point, so he checked his watch. "Arthur'll be here soon," he said, because it was something to say.

---

Arthur pulled up outside Camelot Records, cursing the toaster malfunction that had left him running an unprecedented ten minutes behind schedule. He could see Will and Lancelot leaning against the shopfront, and Arthur did not count the fact he was later than Will as a particularly auspicious sign. He sat for a minute, not really wanting the day to begin, before allowing himself a sigh and getting out of the car.

"Morning," he called, tossing the keys in Lancelot's direction, distantly noting that neither of the boys seemed to be meeting his eyes. Their answering grunts seemed less than enthused, but Will was at least alert enough to ask, "Why are you wearing a tie?" as Arthur pushed past him to hold the door open.

"It's Valiant Day," Arthur responded, vainly striving for 'professional neutrality' and hitting 'funereal'. "Uther wants us to make an effort. Which means," he went on, "not explicitly mentioning to the greasy oik that we hate him and his oily chest and everything he stands for, okay?"

Will sniggered. "'Oik'? Exactly how posh are you, Arthur?"

"Shut up, Will," muttered Lancelot, shoving him through the door. He seemed weirdly preoccupied this morning; Lancelot was never quite there, exactly, but today his hair seemed to flop into his eyes with a new and exciting kind of noble misery. Great. Arthur allowed himself another sigh as he pulled the door closed behind them, flipping the sign to 'OPEN'. He flicked down the row of light switches, and the usual warm rush of pride glowed in his chest as the shop was illuminated, racks and rows of CDs and cassettes and vinyl stretching in every direction. The warmth lasted exactly as long as it took Arthur to remember that today was Valiant Day.

"'Phone," he said automatically, in response to the angry ringing coming from the front desk, as he followed Lancelot down the main aisle to the offices at the back of the shop. Will made a grab for it, reeling off, "Camelot Records, open 'til midnight, this is Will," in a monotone that was decidedly less cheery than store policy dictated it should be. "Yeah, just a minute - oi, Arthur!"

Arthur turned to see Will holding out the receiver to him, chewing his lip.

"It's for you."

---

Morgana skidded the Micra to a halt outside the house, slamming on the brakes and honking wildly to piss off the neighbours. She drummed her fingers on the steering wheel, keeping her eyes on the dashboard clock and her mind clear, breathing deeply. A few moments later, Gwen came running down the path, Tupperware balanced precariously in her arms as she clambered into the car.

"Took you long enough," said Morgana, flashing her teeth. "You shouldn't dawdle on Valiant Day, Guinevere. You might miss something exciting."

"Be very nice to me or you won't get any cake," Gwen warned her, rooting in the box which presumably contained the baked goods. "Which would be a shame, because I made this one especially for you. Ta-dah!"

With a flourish, she presented Morgana with an impressively large cupcake, the word BITCH emblazoned on it in blue icing.

"How thoughtful," drawled Morgana, as obnoxiously as she could manage; Gwen shoved the cupcake at her mouth, giggling.

"Well, you are obviously a riddle wrapped in a mystery inside an underwired enigma, full of Meredith Brooks-esque layers and complexity, so I just thought, you know, it was time somebody acknowledged that about you. Via the medium of icing."

Gwen's eyes were bright and smiling, her hair catching the sunlight. Morgana looked away.

"What are we listening to anyway, Hole?" Gwen asked after a second, leaning over to rummage through the haphazard collection of cassettes.

"Yes, I am a very angry and confused young woman," said Morgana through a mouthful of cake, and put her foot down.

---

"Where the bloody hell is Merlin?" Arthur bellowed, crashing into the staff room. The empty staff room. Oh, for fuck's sake.

---

" - and you can't say anything to Arthur, because he will kill us all, probably painfully," finished Lancelot in a near-whisper, as Gwen did her best not to gape at him. Gwen had spent most of her time at Camelot Records trying not to gape at Lancelot, but usually it was motivated by the way his hair flopped into his eyes, as opposed to their lovable but inept colleague apparently losing his few remaining marbles and turning to kleptomania.

"Merlin did that?" she said, trying to sort out the facts in her head. "Merlin went gambling with nine thousand pounds from the safe? In Blackpool?"

"Nine thousand, one hundred and four," corrected Lancelot, "and yes, that is exactly what he did."

"Bugger," said Gwen, and reached out to swat at Morgana, who was chuckling in a decidedly unsympathetic manner. "Shut up, you. Merlin could really get in trouble for this."

Morgana unfolded her long legs, stretching them out in front of her, swinging herself down from the fire escape with the languid, practised grace that marked everything she did. Sometimes, Gwen thought, it was as if life was a dress rehearsal and Morgana was the only one who was word-perfect; sometimes, she caught an edge of irritation in Morgana's sighs, an annoyance at the way the rest of them bumbled through life, uncertain.

"Merlin's always in trouble," said Morgana as she adjusted her skirt, seemingly unconcerned. "That's just how it is; that's how it's always going to be. All this worrying is really counter-productive."

"I think this is serious," said Lancelot, frowning, but Morgana just rolled her eyes and pushed the door open, heading back inside before Arthur noticed half his staff were hiding by the bins. Lancelot sort of shrugged apologetically at Gwen, getting to his feet and making to follow Morgana, and Gwen remembered the reason she'd spent half the night covered in icing sugar in the first place.

"Lancelot, wait," she said, fighting down a blush at the way he turned back to look at her with warm, soft eyes. "Here," she offered awkwardly, fumbling the lid off the Tupperware she was still holding and fishing out a cupcake. "Happy anniversary."

Lancelot's eyes widened in confusion even as he reached out his hand for the cake; too late, Gwen replayed her words and cursed herself furiously.

"No, I didn't mean - obviously I didn't mean anniversary, not like you-and-me anniversary, I just - it's three years, isn't it?" She gulped. "Since you started working here. Arthur wrote it on the whiteboard."

"Oh," said Lancelot, and when he smiled at her like that, she could feel something warm uncurling in the pit of her stomach. "Thank you, Gwen."

Gwen smiled back, hoping she didn't look quite as flustered as she felt, until Lancelot shifted awkwardly, clearing his throat, and she realised he was holding the door open for her.

---

Arthur paced the floor of his office, trying desperately to construct a timeline for the events of the previous night that explained the fact that Merlin had removed the takings from the safe and failed to deposit them at the bank - preferably one that didn't end with anyone dead or injured or unemployed or imprisoned. Any number of horrible things could have happened to Merlin in the gaps of last night. He hadn't even typed 'BOOBLESS' on the calculator; the only sign that he'd been in the office at all was a mystifying post-it about Enya. Arthur clenched and unclenched his fists, pointlessly; the punchbag hanging in the corner was calling to him, siren-like, but today was Valiant Day, and it wouldn't be proper for him to be panting and sweaty when he met The Worst Thing To Happen To Modern Music (Since B*Witched). He flung himself down into his chair, checked the desk drawers again for the cashbag he already knew wasn't there.

He was so incredibly fucked. And hallucinating, apparently, because out of the corner of his eye he could see the ball-point pens in his mug twitching feebly, as if in sympathy for the utter hopelessness of the situation. Groaning, Arthur rested his head on the desk and prayed for a swift and merciful death.

"Arthur?"

Warily, he cracked one eye open. It wasn't a hooded figure with a scythe, or a girl with hair like Robert Smith, or even, God forbid, his father; it was only Lancelot, standing in the doorway, twisting his hands nervously. Right.

"Lancelot," said Arthur, keeping his voice as even as he could. "Where is Merlin?"

"Oh, erm, I don't know," said Lancelot, unconvincingly, and before Arthur could call him on the outrageous lie he was pressing on, saying "The thing is, I need your help. I want to tell Gwen how I feel about her, and I thought that you might be able to, you know..." He trailed off, and Arthur could have sworn that he was blushing. This was sodding ridiculous. Of all the days -

"Lancelot, my last girlfriend tried to drown me in a lake," he said, wondering (not for the first time) if the lovesick idiot's hair somehow interfered with his basic perception of the world around him. "I'm not sure I'm really qualified to give you romantic advice."

"Right, no," said Lancelot, nodding earnestly. "You're absolutely right. What if we died today and I never got to tell her? It's Valiant Day, anything could happen. I should tell her, shouldn't I? Take action, make a stand, all that stuff. I'm going to tell her today, this afternoon. I'm going to tell Gwen I love her by 1:37 exactly."

He broke off, slightly flushed, looking expectantly at Arthur. Arthur just stared, fighting the urge to leap over the desk and shake the floppy-haired moron, hard, and then storm out onto the shop floor and start shaking everybody else, hard, until somebody told him exactly what the fuck was going on.

"You've got icing on your face," he said flatly, and opened his mouth to ask about Merlin again, but Lancelot was already fiddling with his watch, doing something that looked suspiciously like setting an alarm, and then Will stuck his head round the door.

"Arthur, fuck's sake, Morgana picked the blue Smartie and she's using her power for evil. She's playing fucking Björk, and it's scaring the customers."

"JESUS FUCKING CHRIST," shouted Arthur, a little louder than he had intended to.

---

Morgana plonked herself down next to Gwen on the battered staffroom couch, crossing her legs and waiting for the storm to hit. Will and Lancelot stood behind them, leaning over the back of the sofa (she could feel Gwen trying not to fidget, and fought the urge to reach out and take her hand, still her); it was only a matter of time before Arthur stopped crashing around his office and came out to rage at them.

"Does anyone know what all this is about?" asked Gaius, who was sitting at the table doing something fiddly with some Rizlas.

"Not a clue," said Will, as Gwen hissed, "Shhh, he's coming out!" and Arthur appeared in the doorway.

"Oh, Christ, he's brought props," muttered Morgana, earning her a Look from Arthur and a smile from Gwen, which was a win in anyone's book.

"Take one and pass it along," said Arthur shortly, shoving a sheaf of papers at Lancelot. "As of next week, Uther has decreed that Camelot Records will be absorbed into the Albion Music Zone. It's a franchise agreement."

"Right, but what does that actually mean?" said Will, and Morgana bit back a smirk as Arthur balled up one of the hideous red aprons he was holding and hurled it at Will's head.

"Let me put this in perspective for you," he said, voice low and menacing. "In the Albion Music Zone, every day is Valiant Day."

Gwen gasped in mock-horror and clutched at Morgana's hand, her giggles stuttering abruptly into silence as Arthur fixed her with his death glare. "There are no cupcakes in the Albion Music Zone, Guinevere," he said sternly, and Morgana tuned him out as he launched into a tirade about Lancelot's "poncy sketchbook". Gwen's palm was still pressed warm against her own, their fingers intertwining. And, fuck, Morgana was only human. Sighing almost imperceptibly, she shoved everything from her mind as forcefully as she could, everything except this, allowing herself these few seconds just to breathe and hold Gwen's hand.

"And you!" Morgana hastily arranged her face into something resembling attentiveness as Arthur wheeled around to point at her accusingly. Cocking her head, she stared him down, stony-eyed, and Arthur seemed to lose his momentum. "... Stop playing Bjork," he said, somewhat lamely. Morgana graciously decided to let that one go, since Arthur's face was already a rather alarming shade of red, and Gwen was still clasping her hand.

She felt a prickling at the back of her neck and turned to look at the door; right on cue, there was Merlin, looking absolutely wretched. Arthur hadn't noticed him yet; Lancelot was already edging over to stand between them, probably with some misguided notion of protecting Merlin from Arthur's terrible wrath.

Merlin cleared his throat.

---

"You," said Arthur dangerously, and Merlin just stood there. The others filed past him hurriedly, muttering things about stock counts and facing up; Morgana caught his eye and winked, and Merlin felt a glimmer of reassurance, even in the face of almost-certain death. Arthur spread his hands, expectant.

"Where's the money, Merlin?"

Merlin took a deep breath. "It's in Blackpool."

Arthur's eyes bulged dangerously. "Blackpool?"

"Yeah," said Merlin, nodding. "Well, it's probably still in Blackpool. It might be, you know, recirculating by now. I don't have it," he added unnecessarily. Why the hell was he still talking? Arthur looked like he wanted to break something, preferably Merlin's face. He wasn't saying anything though, so Merlin, apparently half-delirious from lack of sleep and hours of failed magic and only having eaten half a Kit-Kat since yesterday's lunch, thought fuck it and went for broke.

"Anyway, when were you planning on telling us about this?" he asked, and he couldn't quite believe the edge of belligerence in his own voice, striding over to the couch and snatching up one of the discarded franchise option agreements. "I mean, it does affect all of us. We could all lose our jobs, Arthur!" This was ridiculous; he sounded angry now, his voice was getting louder and louder, and it took him a moment to realise that he actually was angry, that the thought of losing Camelot Records made his throat tight and his fingers tingle in a way that almost never led to anything good.

"You're supposed to be our manager," he went on, "you're supposed to look out for us. You're supposed to do something about this." Heart pounding, he chanced a look at Arthur, who was staring, flabbergasted, still processing the fact that Merlin, Merlin who had effectively stolen nine thousand, one hundred and four pounds and gambled it away, was shouting at him. His jaw had actually dropped, Merlin noted with the tiny part of his brain that wasn't screaming WHAT ARE YOU DOING? at him over and over, blaring like a klaxon. He felt the flash of anger ebb away as quickly as it had flared, and he said, quietly, "But you didn't. You weren't. The papers were just sitting there in your desk, so I - I tried to - "

And then Arthur wasn't staring anymore, he was stalking over to Merlin, mouth a thin line of fury, and fisting one hand in the front of Merlin's seasonally-inappropriate leather jacket, the other gripping Merlin's wrist where he had raised his arm in a half-hearted attempt to defend himself from the oncoming, probably-painful death.

"And what exactly do you suggest we do now?" hissed Arthur, too close, and Merlin couldn't help it; he felt the shock travel down his arm, and he saw Arthur jerk his hand away, and all he could do was hope fervently that his eyes hadn't done that thing. He stared at his wrist for a moment. Arthur had snapped one of the lurid pink rubber bracelets Gwen had shoved on there yesterday, giggling at him, and now it wasn't on Merlin's wrist anymore, it was just sort of dangling stupidly between Arthur's fingers.

"Huh," said Merlin, and Arthur made a very angry sound in the back of his throat, pushed Merlin away, and slammed into his office. Merlin stood for a moment, unsure. The door to Arthur's office opened for the few seconds it took Arthur to yell, "Just, stay on the fucking couch, alright," and hurl the now-useless bracelet vaguely in the direction of Merlin's head, and then it banged shut again, rattling all the windows.

Merlin sighed, and sank down onto the sofa, face burning in yesterday's clothes. Through the wall, he could hear the tell-tale sounds of someone hitting a punchbag, hard enough to hurt. Weighing up his options (limited at best), Merlin flung himself face-down into the cushions, and prayed for a swift and merciful death.

---

"Oh, fucking fuck," said Gwen, scampering over to where Morgana was irritably scanning some hapless customer's purchases. She inclined her head towards the door; an incredibly tacky white limousine had pulled up outside, and the crowd was milling around it excitedly.

"Valiant Day has landed, it would appear," said Morgana, smirking a little. Gwen peered at her.

"You're taking some sort of sick pleasure in this whole thing, aren't you?" she asked, torn between disgust and fascination. "You think this is funny."

"Oh, Gwen, you have no idea," said Morgana, maddeningly, but before Gwen could force an explanation from her she was pointing over Gwen's shoulder, back towards the door. "Look."

The last time Gwen had seen Sophia Tirmawr, she had been pushing Arthur into a lake, watching calmly as he gasped and spluttered. Privately, Gwen thought it served him right for attempting to break up with a girl on a pedalo, but Arthur was still nursing an amusingly large grudge about the whole thing. Gwen had been at the park with Merlin, throwing stale rolls to the ducks, and they'd seen the splash, heard Arthur's extravagant swearing. Merlin had paled, thrust the bread into Gwen's hands, and gone running into the lake. This grand gesture was rendered largely unnecessary by the fact that a) the lake was barely shoulder-high at its deepest point, and b) Arthur had spent a significant portion of his teenage years swimming for the county. Arthur had pointed this out to Merlin as they lay on the bank, soaking wet and coughing, but he hadn't stopped Merlin from running his hands over him, making sure he was alright. "Checking for tetanus," Merlin had said vaguely, which made very little sense, even by Merlin's standards. Gwen had smiled and said nothing, but it remained one of her deepest regrets that she hadn't had her camera on hand to document the liberal amounts of duckweed strewn in Arthur's hair.

Now, Sophia was striding briskly down the aisle towards the back of the store, hair swept up into an obnoxiously professional bun. She was heading straight for the office, marching past Will, who was mutinously blowing up balloons, and Lancelot, who appeared to be squinting intensely at the clock, to rap smartly on the door. Gwen didn't have to look at Morgana to know that she was swinging her long legs over the countertop, and together they pelted the length of the store, pulling up just in time to see a panting, sweaty, stripped-down-to-his-vest Arthur fling open his door to come face-to-face with his ex-girlfriend-slash-corporate-nightmare.

Gwen hadn't seen her boss properly speechless in a long time.

---

12:20. Lancelot paced the staff room, up and down, up and down, back and forth behind where Merlin lay sprawled on the couch, apparently reconciled to his future as the first victim of Arthur's rage-fuelled killing spree and tucking into one of Gwen's cupcakes.

"Hmmm?" said Lancelot, vaguely aware of Merlin mumbling something through a spray of crumbs.

"Merlin, you are disgusting," Morgana said conversationally, sailing through the room towards the stereo, armed with what looked suspiciously like a copy of Valiant's latest single. Merlin groaned and sat up, wiping his mouth and hooking his elbows over the back of the couch as he twisted to look at Lancelot.

"I said, if you would stop wearing a hole in the carpet for a second and listen to me, Lancelot, why 1:37?" He folded his arms behind his head and settled back into the cushions, obviously warming to his theme. "I mean, is the number 37 significant for the two of you? Is it Gwen's birthday? Wait, it can't be her birthday because there aren't 37 days in July. Or in any month, come to think of it. Ooh, I know! Is it the bus you take when you go and wait outside her house like a big stalker?"

"Arrrgh," said Lancelot, because he only had - he checked his watch again - one hour and sixteen minutes to confess his undying love for Gwen and (hopefully) sweep her off her feet, and things weren't going according to plan, because, well, he didn't actually have a plan, as such, and he had more than enough to think about without Merlin trying to be helpful. The truth was (and Merlin could just shut up about that stalker thing, because he only went to her house once, and he was going to go in, he was, he was just working up the nerve, only then he remembered he had a clarinet lesson and had to leave without even knocking on her door. Lancelot would have liked to believe that the two years between that day and this had given him a certain sheen of sophisticated maturity, but he wasn't very good at lying to himself. He was, however, very good at the clarinet, so he was reluctant to write the time off as a complete waste) - and he felt too silly to say it out loud, but there it was, undeniable - the truth was that 1:37 had just felt right somehow, like everything was aligning, like destiny, and every tick of the clock on the wall was bringing it closer.

He didn't actually say any of this, didn't want to send it out into the universe in case he jinxed it, but when he looked at Morgana, leaning against the stereo with her head tilted slightly, she was staring at him as though he had.

"You should draw something for her," she said after a moment, and her face seemed to twist for a second before she turned abruptly and stomped out the room, Doc Martens echoing on the cheap linoleum and the sickening strains of the intro to "Love Snake" rising from the speakers.

Valiant came in as Morgana pushed out, the double doors swinging shut on the shrieks of a hundred hormonal teenage girls as he surveyed the room with a disinterested smirk. At least, Lancelot assumed the man was Valiant, because he was wearing a mesh shirt open to his navel, and Lancelot could see the outline of a snake tattoo on his belly, black and bold and dipping ominously beneath the waistband of his baggy trousers. Also, he smelt vaguely of scotch eggs. And his face was on all the flyers.

"Alright?" said Valiant, scratching himself. "Sophia said I should wait in here, so..." Lancelot nodded at him, awkwardly, which Valiant took as a sign to plonk himself in the nearest seat and lean in.

"So, d'you like working here then? I tell you what, mate, those girls -" he leaned back in his chair and whistled appreciatively. "Are either of them, you know..." Lancelot wasn't entirely sure what the accompanying hand gesture meant, and he almost definitely didn't want to know.

"Actually -" Merlin piped up from the couch, and Lancelot really had no desire to hear how this conversation went, so he snatched up his sketchbook and beat a hasty retreat, saying "Well, if you'll excuse me, I should probably, you know, right, goodbye," in a voice that sounded rather higher than normal.

---

This was really not how Arthur had envisioned his reunion with Sophia. Truth be told, he hadn't envisioned any kind of reunion at all (the lasting sting of duckweed-based humiliation had killed any potential drunk-dial urges there), but if he had, he certainly wouldn't have been quite this sweaty (well, at least not from boxing). The panting wasn't fantastic either, come to think of it. And he should probably put his shirt back on. Fuck.

Sophia was just staring at him, a worryingly sweet smile fixed on her face as she tapped her pen against her clipboard.

"So," Arthur ventured, "do you have everything you need? For Valiant, I mean. I did send Morgana out for scotch eggs this morning."

"Oh, yes," said Sophia, the smile not slipping. Tap, tap, tap. Arthur didn't think she was blinking.

"Excellent." He shrugged his shirt on as nonchalantly as he could manage. "Have you been managing Valiant long?"

"Three months or so." Tap, tap, tap.

"And are you... well?"

The tapping stopped.

"Arthur."

"Yes, Sophia?"

"I know things ended badly between us -"

"You tried to drown me!" Arthur couldn't help interjecting.

"Please, the water barely came up to your shoulders," snapped Sophia, before recovering her composure and rearranging her features back into that disconcerting smile. "I know things ended badly between us personally, but there's no reason for that to interfere with our professional relationship, is there?"

The question seemed to be rhetorical, so Arthur kept his mouth shut.

"Now," Sophia continued brightly, "all I require of you, Arthur, is that you not fuck anything up. I know that you're essentially a hardworking and conscientious person, but this ragtag collection of misfits you've assembled, from the little time I've spent with them... Well." She made a disapproving little 'tsk' sound behind her teeth. "Have you seen the holes in Morgana's fishnets?"

"She's a very angry and confused young woman," said Arthur automatically, regretting it the instant Sophia stepped towards him, eyes narrowed into an expression he strongly associated with the taste of algae.

"Let me put this another way. I have been slogging at this job for three months; I have been subject to the whims of that odious Neanderthal for three months, Arthur!" Arthur tried to imagine the horror of three months worth of Valiant Day and immediately felt nauseated. "I have hand-made scotch eggs by the dozen. I have drawn tattoo designs on his stomach with a marker pen. I have single-handedly prevented Valiant from taking any of his underage fans up on their more explicit offers, and now that this hellish tour is almost over and the end is in sight I'll be damned if I let your precious band of young offenders and their anti-corporate bullshit fuck this up for me! Nothing is going to go wrong today, Arthur. Do you understand me? Nothing."

"Right," said Arthur weakly, exhaling as Sophia turned on her heel and marched out of his office. On balance, he felt that had gone about as well as could be expected.

---

"Hello, William," said Gaius absentmindedly. "Are you hiding from Valiant?"

"Bloody right I am," said Will, shuddering. Morgana was still abusing The Power of the Blue Smartie, and "Love Snake" had been on repeat on every stereo in the building for the past three-quarters of an hour. It was only a matter of time before the slimy corporate stooge started making his pecs dance for his adoring public, and Will really didn't want to have to witness that, so he just rested his elbows on the edge of Gaius' booth and leaned over, asking, "What are you up to, then?"

Gaius was fiddling with a soft-looking cloth, flipping through a stack of records. Will had no real interest in the proper care and maintenance of vinyl, or in its supposedly superior sound quality compared to CDs, but he was definitely interested in killing ten minutes pretending to listen to Gaius rhapsodising if it meant he could stay far, far away from Valiant. Besides, if he hung around long enough, Gaius might offer him one of his special brownies. He arranged his face into his best fascinated expression and settled in, tilting his head expectantly.

Gaius opened his mouth, no doubt thrilled to explain once again exactly why compact discs were the devil's own invention; a shrill beeping sound cut him off and he started scrabbling at his pockets, obviously looking for something.

"Wait a - oh, no," Will said in horror, as the awful realisation dawned on him. "Gaius. Please tell me that is not a Tamagotchi in your pocket. Please."

"Hmmm," said Gaius, jabbing haphazardly at buttons until the thing stopped shrieking. "What was that?"

"You're a grown man! And, alright, you work in a record store for a boss who's about a third of your age and a bit of a twat, but things can't have got so bad that you're allowing your life to be controlled by the whims of - " he peered at the tiny screen " - fuck, by a pixellated fucking dragon. Jesus."

"I wouldn't expect you to understand responsibility, William," said Gaius, and his tone of haughty morality might have carried more weight if Will hadn't been able to smell the faintly clinging smoke.

---

It was, Merlin reflected from the couch, shaping up to be a most unusual day. Faced with the prospect of impending death-by-Arthur, he felt strangely calm, detached even. It wasn't as if he felt suddenly compelled to start offering people advice, like Confucius, or Trisha, but there was definitely something there, a whisper telling him that things were bound to work out. Given his recent track record when it came to throwing himself on the mercy of Fate, Merlin knew he should probably be more wary of these warm, fuzzy feelings of cosmic destiny, but he couldn't quite work up the required skepticism. At odds with Merlin's own newfound peace, the air in the staffroom was weirdly charged, as if everyone was holding their breath, with the exception of Gwen, who still had no idea that Lancelot was planning to declare himself to her. Oh, and of Will, who was manfully braving the double-whammy of the crowds of persistent and vocal Valiant fans at the till combined with Sophia, who was very scary.

"Time?" called Lancelot faintly. He was bent over his sketchbook at the battered table, scribbling feverishly.

"1:35," said Merlin and Morgana in unison, as Morgana plopped down onto the cushions beside him. Lancelot let out a tiny, anguished moan and Merlin sighed, knowingly. He nudged Morgana in the ribs.

"D'you think we should, you know..." he inclined his head in the direction of the shopfloor. "Leave them to it, yeah?"

"Nope, this seems about right," said Morgana. Merlin looked at her for a second.

"Morgana, is that - is that popcorn?"

"1:36," she said, raising her voice slightly.

Across the room, Valiant was leering at Gwen, who was evidently doing her best to uphold Arthur's mandate of professional neutrality and not cringe away from him too obviously.

"Are you okay?" said Merlin, peering at Morgana.

Flushed, Gwen leaned away from Valiant to rummage in her Tupperware. "Cupcake?"

"Fine," said Morgana tightly.

Valiant reached in and took a cake, keeping his eyes locked on Gwen's and one eyebrow raised in a rather alarming fashion, and proceeded to lick off the icing. Very thoroughly.

"Oh, God," said Merlin, momentarily distracted from the weirdness of Morgana by the vague sense that he'd seen Valiant do something very similar in one of his music videos. MTV was more trouble than it was worth, really.

There was a loud snapping sound, and Merlin looked round to see Lancelot, holding two jagged ends of a pencil in his hands.

"So, what time do you finish, eh?" said Valiant, leaning closer to an increasingly flustered Gwen.

Merlin felt Morgana tugging at his wrist; eyes hard and bright, she whispered, "Cue happy ending in three, two, one..."

A loud, tinny beeping noise erupted from Lancelot's wristwatch. Merlin turned just in time to see him stand up, sending his chair skidding behind him. There was a half-second pause as Lancelot swallowed, fists clenched, apparently still screwing up his courage for The Big Confession O' Love, and then Merlin could only hope his eyes hadn't done that thing again as time went treacle-slow.

Lancelot charged, vaulting over the back of the sofa, sending Morgana leaping out of his way (her arms flapping in a most un-Morganalike manner, which would have been bloody funny if Merlin hadn't been freaking out about the fact that he could unintentionally control time now. Alright, it was still a little bit funny). Three objectively glorious strides later - what with the rippling, slo-mo, David-Ginola-in-a-L'Oreal-advert waves of Lancelot's hair, the only thing that could have made it any better would have been the Chariots of Fire music - he delivered a punch to Valiant's jaw that sent the oversexed pop star staggering. And, okay, Merlin was over the whole worrying-about-his-crazy-powers thing, at least temporarily, because everything was ridiculously cooler in slow motion. Lancelot punched Valiant! In slow motion! Fantastic! Except, time didn't seem to be treacle anymore, and Valiant was advancing on Lancelot with a look in his eye so threatening Merlin could only assume he had learnt it from Sophia, and he was doing it fairly briskly. Gwen attempted to step between them, and Valiant pushed her roughly away with one hand, knocking her into Morgana and sending the cupcakes flying.

"You," he said, pointing at Lancelot. "You're fucking dead."

And then it wasn't funny anymore, not even a little bit, because Valiant had Lancelot on the floor, and Morgana was launching herself at Valiant, and Valiant's hands were around Lancelot's throat, and Merlin barely had time to wonder why it was that his magic never seemed to co-operate when it would actually be useful before he threw himself into the fray.

By the time Arthur burst in to drag everyone apart, Morgana was bleeding from the ear and was being held back by Gwen, Valiant had a bloody nose, courtesy of Morgana, Lancelot was gasping for air, and pain was flaring across Merlin's right cheekbone, thanks to Lancelot and his tendency to flail under pressure.

"Could somebody please tell me what the fuck is going on?" said Arthur, deathly quiet, and he was only going to get angrier once he realised there was blood on his shirt. Merlin looked at Morgana expectantly, but rather than stepping in with her usual bullshit, backed by an arched eyebrow daring anyone to challenge her, she was just staring blankly ahead of her. Her mouth was slightly open, and it took Merlin a few beats to register her expression as one of surprise, if only because he didn't think he'd ever seen her at a loss in the four years he'd known her.

Since it appeared that Lancelot wasn't able to speak even if he'd wanted to, Merlin opened his mouth to explain, but before he could get any words out, Arthur cut him off with a terse, "Don't. Even." At that moment, Merlin realised why it was that Arthur had kept his rage voice low and scary, as the door banged open to reveal Sophia, radiating fury. She didn't say a word, just pulled her mobile phone out of her shoulder bag, staring frostily at Arthur as she extended the antennae, and punched in a number.

"Can I speak to Uther Pendragon, please? It's Sophia Tirmawr."

All the colour drained out of Arthur's face.

"I love you, Gwen," croaked Lancelot, his watch still beeping.

---

Arthur sat stock-still in the chair in his office, too nervous even to pace. His father was coming. His father, who would no doubt be interested to hear, in great and graphic detail, exactly how Valiant Day had crashed and burned so spectacularly ("They broke a pop star's nose," Arthur kept repeating to himself, half-dazed), not to mention the fact that one of his employees had absconded with nine thousand pounds which was now... recirculating. God, he really hoped his father didn't know about that.

The phone on his desk rang, startling him out of his depressing reverie; he snatched it up, listened for the exact amount of time it took Gwen to say "Fucking fuck, your father, fuck -" and then slammed it down again. Getting to his feet, he allowed himself one sigh before running his hands through his hair and heading out to face the music (thankfully, no longer "Love Snake" - Morgana seemed to have decided that everybody's shattered nerves required the considerably more soothing strains of Belle & Sebastian).

He stood in the doorway between the staffroom and the shop floor, watching his father work his way slowly towards the back of the store, taking his time, looking at stock levels and promotions and swiping his finger along the racks to check for grime. Assaulters of shite pop stars they might be, thought Arthur, with a hint of grim satisfaction as Uther's finger came up clean, incapable of even the most basic romantic interaction, stoners and - yes- young offenders all, but his staff certainly enjoyed mucking around with feather dusters. These lukewarm feelings of managerial pride were immediately crushed by the sight of Morgana, clad in - Arthur gripped the door frame in mute horror - a scarlet Albion Music Zone apron and very little else. Well, she was still wearing her fishnets, but those didn't exactly do much in the way of concealment. The point was, Morgana was on a collision course with Uther, clutching (oh, fuck) a copy of the franchise agreement, and Arthur really had to get there before the words "May I service you?" could leave her mouth.

He almost succeeded.

"Hello, father," he said through his teeth. "Morgana? Clothes, now."

"Technically," said Morgana, "I'm in compliance with the Albion Music Zone employee dress code." She waved the paper in front of his face. "See?"

"Now, Morgana."

Morgana flashed him her least sincere smile before - oh, God - winking at Uther and practically skipping off to change, leaving Will and Gwen staring after her open-mouthed, work forgotten. If Arthur was the kind of person who ground his teeth, his molars would have been dust long, long ago.

"Charming girl," said Uther, and Arthur winced internally at his appreciative tone.

"She is a very angry and confused young woman," he felt compelled to point out.

"Quite," said Uther, reluctantly tearing his eyes away from Morgana's receding form to frown at his son. "What's this about Valiant suing us?"

It took Arthur three-quarters of an hour to convince his father that Valiant had sustained his injuries while sexually harassing one of his employees and physically assaulting another, and that his staff had merely been over-zealous in their attempts to protect their friends. He glossed over the deeper-rooted hatred of Valiant, feeling that "he makes terrible music and smells of scotch eggs", valid concerns though they were, might not have wholly satisfied Uther as reasons for actual violence and impending lawsuits. The thing might have been done sooner if Merlin hadn't volunteered to re-enact something vaguely pornographic involving icing. It was... disconcerting.

("Who is this person?" asked Uther, clearly baffled by Merlin's ears and tongue and the fact he was lying on the sofa. "Is he one of your young reprobates, Arthur?"

"I'm Merlin," supplied Merlin, helpfully. "I work here.")

Arthur was just steering his father safely out of the staffroom when Uther turned on his heel with an, "Oh, and Arthur?" Shitshitshit went Arthur's brain, as he struggled to remain a picture of unconcern.

"Yes, father?" Out of the corner of his eye he saw Merlin look up, immediately tense.

"I had a phone call from the bank." He stared at Arthur over the tops of his glasses. "They said you haven't deposited yesterday's takings."

"Ah." Arthur swallowed, hard.

"Is there something I should know, Arthur?" Uther's voice was smooth, dangerous.

"It's nothing, Father, really." Arthur forced a smile. "It got late last night, I didn't want to risk anything. I'll run them over to the bank this afternoon."

"Hmmm." Uther's face was impassive. "Well, give them to me; I'm heading over to the bank myself later, I can drop them off for you."

Arthur's mouth went dry. "Right," he said, nodding. He went back into his office and closed the door behind him. He paused for a moment to let a shaky breath in and out, then quickly stuffed a cashbag, locked it, wiped his sweaty palms on his trousers.

"There you go," he said casually, thrusting the cashbag into Uther's hands. "Was there anything else, Father?"

Merlin had risen from the couch and was hovering near Uther, oversized cushion clutched to his chest and eyes wide with panic. "Arthur," he started, and Arthur cut him off before he could incriminate himself further.

"Sit down, Merlin," he said, hardly daring to blink as Uther weighed the cashbag consideringly, playing it between his hands before directing a chilly smile at his son.

"Nothing else. Don't let this happen again, Arthur."

And then he was gone, and Arthur had to fight the urge to collapse on the floor with relief.

"Arthur," said Merlin again, more urgently, and Arthur couldn't look at him, he couldn't, because all he had room for was the thought that he had just sent his father off with a cashbag full of Valiant Day flyers, and he was fairly certain that Valiant Day flyers were not legal tender.

"Just, don't," he said, rubbing his eyes. He was so incredibly fucked.

---

Part Two

Fic: Destiny Calling [Prologue]

Sun, 04 Oct 2009 17:50:08 GMT

Prologue

"Arthur’s letting me close up tonight," Merlin announced, leaning back in his boss’ chair.

"That's nice," said Morgana dryly, and, really, Merlin thought such epic news merited more enthusiasm.

"Oh, yes. Said he trusts me and everything."

He cocked his head fondly, thinking of the way an agitated Arthur had said "Don’t fuck this up, Merlin, for the love of God," and reluctantly handed him the key to the safe.

"Anyway, it’s about time I had some real responsibility around this place," Merlin said, folding his hands behind his head and trying for an air of cool insouciance. Morgana snorted.

"Well, I'm sure you know what you’re doing," she said, shrugging on her jacket. "There's no chance at all of this ending horribly. I mean, what could possibly go wrong? You'll be assistant manager by the end of the week. Really, this is extremely exciting. I'm excited."

"Morgana," said Merlin, narrowing his eyes, "sarcasm isn't nice."

Morgana sighed heavily, fixing him with a gaze that somehow managed to be simultaneously pitying and withering.

"Look, I’m sure you’ll be fine. Just count everything twice - "

"Arthur said to count everything twice," Merlin interjected, nodding.

"Right," said Morgana, rolling her eyes. "Just count everything twice, and don’t touch any of Arthur’s shit, and everything will work out."

"That is excellent, if unnecessary, advice," said Merlin graciously, before sticking one of Arthur's pencil's between his teeth and flashing her a grin. "When Arthur makes me assistant manager, I’ll be sure to remember your kind words."

"Oh, Merlin," said Morgana, sing-song sweetness edged with steel. "You really are fucked, aren't you?" She bent down to pinch his cheek (harder, Merlin felt, than the situation really called for) before she strode out, calling back over her shoulder, "And if you’re aiming for a look of cool insouciance, you’re falling sadly short of the mark."

Merlin flashed an enthusiastic thumbs-up at the empty office, and set Arthur's mug of ball-point pens dancing with a wave of his hand.

---

Merlin passed an eventful hour in the office, counting the takings, going a few rounds with the punch bag Arthur kept hanging in the corner of the room, counting the takings again and feeling an enormous sense of relief when the numbers matched. He was just muttering "Nine thousand, one hundred and four," reading from the alarmingly high-tech Casio calculator Arthur kept on his desk (on which Merlin had so far heroically resisted the urge to key in ‘BOOBLESS’), when he heard someone knocking. He made his way across the darkened shop floor; he could see the figure through the glass as he approached the front door.

"Sorry, we're closed," he called out, but the figure didn't budge. "It's after midnight," he added helpfully, gesturing to the sign on the door. Nothing. "We're very, very closed."

Sighing, he squinted through the darkened glass, looking at the person on the other side. It was a woman, tall and pale like Morgana, with an unnecessarily large piece of quartz hanging around her neck and strands of dark hair peeking out of the insane turban thing she was wearing on her head. Merlin took in her quivering lip and the tears in her weirdly blue eyes, said "Fuck it," and unlocked the door.

"Thank you," she sniffled as she came into the shop, brushing past Merlin in a sweep of long skirts and patchouli and heading straight for the Enya. Merlin trailed after her awkwardly, trying to think of something vaguely comforting to say.

"Ahh, Enya," he said, as she flipped through the CDs with an alarming intensity. "Did you know that her cousins did the music for Robin of Sherwood? Yup," he nodded sagely, backing up slightly as she spun around to look at him. This was weird. "Look, are you alright? Because if you’re not alright I could probably ring Arthur or the police or the Samaritans or something - "

"Do you believe - " the woman interrupted, her (suddenly clear) eyes flicking down to his name tag, "Merlin, do you believe in destiny?"

"Er," said Merlin, beginning to think that there might be a reason for the 'don't let strange people in the shop after closing' rule.

"And do you believe," she pressed on, "that a single bold and courageous act can change the course of history?"

"I hadn’t really thought about it," said Merlin honestly. "I haven’t been in a position to - I mean, I basically just work here..." He turned around, gesturing expansively at the racks of CDs and the fading posters on the walls, but when he swung back to the intense turban lady, she was gone, no trace of her except the wind whipping around his ankles. And she’d nicked three Enya CDs.

"Shit," hissed Merlin, and hurried to lock the door again.

---

He was leaving a note for Arthur (“IOU 3 ENYA ALBUMS - DONT WORRY!!”) when he found the papers, the words FRANCHISE OPTION AGREEMENT printed in big letters across the top, and the souls of everybody Merlin cared about signed away in the small print. Okay, maybe that was a slight exaggeration, but the Albion Music Zone were evil corporate fuckers, with dress codes and approved play lists and (Merlin was guessing) stricter standards than Arthur when it came to employing ex-young offenders and old stoners. Fuck.

Merlin leaned back in the chair again, but even the comforting press of managerial pleather couldn’t soothe away his problems. It smelled faintly of Arthur. Merlin inhaled steadily for a few moments, drumming his fingertips on his chin, and mused, “A bold and courageous act...”

His face settling into an expression of determination, Merlin grabbed the cash bag and strode out of the office, blasting the door shut behind him in a frenzy of recklessness. He came back and locked it properly a few moments later, because, well, Arthur was probably going to be angry enough when he found out about the Enya thing.

---

The exhilarating salty tang of the sea air lingered on Merlin’s tongue as he pedalled furiously down the coast road. If he was honest with himself, he knew that his heavy leather jacket was probably not best suited for this kind of biking (he could feel the sweat pooling in the small of his back), and the thin metal band of his headphones was digging into his skull in a way that was pretty painful, jammed in uncomfortably under his helmet, but he couldn’t help feeling that Jarvis was right. This was hardcore. Still, he had a purpose. He was guided by a force much greater than luck.

Merlin kicked his bike up a gear and pedalled harder towards the haze of bright lights in the distance that signalled his destiny, blazing past the sign that proclaimed:

BLACKPOOL
10 MILES

Part One

Sat, 03 Oct 2009 19:37:27 GMT

+ Is Merlin ever going to get upgraded to being a young man?
+ Awww, thoughtful Gwen
+ LOL flamethrower candle. OMG window! Oh Morgana, your mind is whack.
+ Awww, Arthur sticking up for Gwen.
+ Hint of Uther/Morgana! \o/ Even if it is couched
+ Gaius, I do not agree with your doings here :/
+ Finally, Merlin, acknowledging that lying to Morgana about what she is is fucking with her head.
+ have we ever had a properly intense Merlin/Gaius smackdown
+ Hee, mild boyyyys shenanigans. ILU BEN VANSTONE ♥
+ D'awww, Gwen/Morgana.
+ EXPLODEY VASE!
+ Sweet lord, Colin looks beautiful this episode.
+ I enjoy the dragon visits because Colin's face + flickery light = GOOD TIMES
+ What has the dragon got against Morgana? "It would be better if the witch never knew of her powers." Hmm, is this an Arthur/Mordred type thing? DRAGON YOU SUCK.
+ Yay Sir Leon! A recurring knight! I AM EXCITED BY THIS!
+ Hee, rolling scroll!
+ ICU Arthur, shipping Merlin/Morgana. YOU SEE THE POTENTIAL FOR CRAZY MAGICAL WALL!SEX, DON'T DENY IT.
+ Hey, Merlin unlocked a door with magic and his eyes didn't go gold! I CALL FOUL PLAY!
+ MERLIN IS TOTALLY IN MORGANA'S ROOM AT NIGHT. Now kiss. Ahem. What? But ohhh, Morgana is killing me with all the pale and shaky sadness :(
+ I DON'T LIKE IT WHEN MERLIN AND GAIUS FIGHT. But I love that even while they're fighting Merlin can acknowledge how much Gaius has helped him.
+ YAY RED CLOAK. (Aaaaand this is the point where I start flailing about next week)
+ God, Arthur has to arrest a lot of people on this show. It's such a downer.
+ Oh my god, that whole bit with Merlin knocking things over was SO. EFFING. PRECIOUS.
+ Heyyy, is that the tunnel that Arthur and Mordred escaped out of? Nice.
+ OH FUCK SCORPIONS
+ FUCK YEAH IT'S DRUIDIC COLIN SALMON!!!!
+ Yayyyy, windswept Merlin!hair. ALSO CHEEKBONES.
+ FUCK YEAH IT'S MORDRED!!!!
+ God I love it when Uther compares Morgana to Gorlois. "If she were to die, a huge part of me would die with her." IT'S SO NASTY BUT IT FEELS SO RIGHT.
+ Eeek, scary dogs!
+ Ooh, Morgana has robes!
+ OH MERLIN, YOU SO STEALTHY. Except for that part wher you're totally leading Arthur to the druids. *facepalm*
+ Hmm, so it looks like Morgana's powers are going to take a while to develop fully.
+ COLIN SALMON THE DRUID IS TOTALLY RIGHTEOUS I LOVE HIM
+ Ohh, Morgana looks so lovely and relieved.
+ "These are my people. They're like me. I don't feel so alone here. Do you understand?"
+ Wait, does Aglain know Merlin is Emrys?
+ OH MORDRED, YOU CREEPSTER, I HEART YOU SO HARD
+ OH FOR FUCK'S SAKE, THEY KILLED ANOTHER BLACK GUY. Show, this is really starting to piss me off.
+ FUCKING HELL, MORDRED. SO FUCKING AWESOME.
+ D'awww, Uther/Morgana hug.
+ I really enjoy these night-time visits, you two. Feel free to keep it up.
+ "I know now who I really am, and it isn't something to be scared of." SO MUCH WIN, I LOVE HER HARDCORE.
+ OH MERLIN, YOUR SECRET BURDEN IS SO HEAVY.
+ BWAHAHAHA, Arthur thinks Morgana is out of Merlin's league, BUT HE SECRETLY SHIPS THEM ANYWAY BECAUSE LOVE ACROSS THE SOCIAL DIVIDE IS TOTALLY HIS KINK.
+ "You can't hide anything from me, Merlin." "Wouldn't dream of it." EPIC SADFACE, OH MERLIN I LOVE YOU SO.
+ NEXT WEEK NEXT WEEK!!!! OH MY ACTUAL GOD MORGANA HAS A SWORD AND ARTHUR THINKS ABOUT GWEN ALL THE TIIIIIIME AND "I WOULD DIE FOR YOU ONE HUNDRED TIMES OVER" AND LANCELOT TOUCHED HER FACE!!!!! Also Merlin in chainmail \o/!!!!!!

Okay. Thinky thoughts!
+ God, I love Merlin and Gaius so much, their relationship just makes me d'awww all over the place. Even though I wanted to smack Gaius for the way he was treating Morgana (HOW ANYONE COULD DENY HER ANYTHING WHEN SHE IS ALL PALE AND WIBBLY I WILL NEVER KNOW), I really liked that although they were arguing, it wasn't Merlin going OMG I HATE YOU, it was more you helped me, I don't understand why you won't help her. And it wasn't just Gaius being a twat arbitrarily, it's motivated by a very real and justified fear of Uther turning into a complete psycho whenever magic is mentioned. IT'S SO GNARLY, I LOVE IT. Also, all this stuff just makes me really, really excited for Gaius' stuff in the Witchfinder episode.

+ THIS IS WHY BEN VANSTONE IS MY FAVOURITE MERLIN WRITER. Arthur wasn't a dick for no reason! Shippy goodness all over the place and in all directions! MERLIN/MORGANA AND ARTHUR/GWEN AND ARTHUR/MERLIN AND UTHER/MORGANA!!!! Although I think over time the Uther/Morgana is going to make me sadpants, because he loves her so much and she's just going to hate him more and more every week :/ OH WELL BRING ON THE ANGST. And the balance is restored to ~~nature~~ Arthur and Merlin's relationship, thank fuck for that. DID YOU SEE MERLIN'S LITTLE FAAAAAACE AT THE END THERE, OH MERLIN, ONE DAY YOU CAN TELL HIM YOUR SECRET :'(

+ MORGANA, MY GIIIIIIIIIRL, I LOVE HER SO FUCKING MUCH. SHE JUST WANTS TO KNOW WHO SHE IS AND ONCE SHE DOES SHE COMPLETELY FUCKING OWNS IT, DID I MENTION THAT I LOVE HER BECAUSE I REALLY FUCKING DO. Aha, my thinky thoughts have devolved into capslock flailing, BUT THAT IS THE STRENGTH OF MY EMOOOOOTION OKAY. So, we have, like self-knowledge and accepting her identity, NOW JUST GIVE HER SOME ACTUAL SHIT TO DO, WRITERS, BECAUSE YOU KNOW SHE WILL KICK ARSE AND TAKE NAMES. Relatedly, HOLY HOTNESS MERLIN/MORGANA, damn TPTB for refusing to go there, gaaaaah. I really don't have anything to say about that that isn't NNNNNGH THE HOTNESS, so there you have it. LOVE LOVE LOVE. Alas, the Gwen/Morgana scenes were minimal (TWO GIRLS BEING AWESOME IN THE SAME EPISODE, IT'S NOT TOO MUCH TO ASK FOR) but lovely and domestic.

+ FUCK YEAH, DRUIDS ARE SO MAGNIFICENT. I really loved Aglain, he was all calm and wonderful and was exactly who Morgana (and Merlin, that eavesdropping minx) needed to listen to. ALSO MORDRED, LIGHT OF MY LIFE, KNOCKING MEN OUT WITH THE SOUND OF HIS VOICE. I'm so intrigued by his relationship with Merlin, HE CALLS HIM 'EMRYS' and can he read Merlin's mind to find out what the dragon's told him, and HE IS SO TINY AND MAGNIFICENT AND MERLIN IS KIND OF AFRAID OF HIM, IT'S FUCKING AWESOME. Also, I love that because Merlin is THE MOST MAGICAL PERSON EVER TO MAGIC he kind of gets flooded with all the druid!thoughts.

+ SERIOUSLY, STOP KILLING THE BLACK GUYS.

+ This episode was so pretty, what with all, y'know, COLIN'S FACE, and the cloaks, the beautiful cloaks, and all the lovely green in the forest. PRETTY PRETTY PRETTY.

+ NEXT WEEK, NEXT WEEK HOMG. I am so so so excited (although I won't be able to see it until Sunday, GAAAAH), but at the same time I am dreading the potential influx of Gwen!hate that the Lancelot thing is going to stir up. THEY'RE NOT MARRIED YET, KIDS, CALM DOWN.

Right, off to frantically edit reel_merlin so I can post it before it stops being today in someone's timezone :/

"Can I get you a drink? I just cracked open a fresh box of wine..."

Thu, 01 Oct 2009 10:02:08 GMT

Ahh, sweet relief. There was way less pregnancy drama this week and way more AWESOMENESS, so it's all good.

+
CHENO, SWEET CHENO. She was such a delightful drunken floozy! Also, one of my favourite moments of the whole ep was when she gives the kids the finger guns, and on the wide shot of the kids you can see Puck shooting them back. OH SHOW, YOU DELIGHT ME IN SO MANY WAYS.

+ Will is starting to grate on me quite badly now, especially when it comes to Rachel (oh my days, her faaaace when she found out April was doing DSB (Finn's reaction, too, OH KIDS)). Like, he makes these terrible decisions based on what he wants, and has an epiphany at the end of the episode that it's actually All About The Kids. And yet, I forget all this when he starts bopping to "Alone" with his top buttons undone and his throat all out and sexy. HAH I AM SO SHALLOW. Well played, Matty Fresh.

+
DIANNA AGRON, STOP BEING SO PRECIOUS, IT'S VERY CONFUSING. Like, I am really not that into Finn/Quinn, because not even rhyming names can overcome infuriating pregnancy deceit, and hello, that is Rachel's part, THAT IS A VERY SIGNIFICANT PART, but... Look at her!

+
GOD, CORY MONTEITH, JUST BE MY BOYFRIEND ALREADY. Every time I see his awkward dancing my heart grows three sizes. Also, "Mi mi mi mi mi mi mi!" "You you you you you you you!" THAT BOYYYYY.

+
FINN, YOU VILE SEDUCTRESS. I really love these two together, and will happily lap up any scenes the show gives them, but GOD, BOY, BUY A CLUE. He completely manipulated Rachel, apparently without realising he was doing anything wrong or feeling guilty about it until she called him on it. I also thought it was kind of weird that, even though he's ostensibly trying to get Rachel back into glee so that he can support Quinn and the kid he thinks is his, we didn't see any of Quinn's reaction to his win-Rachel-over shenanigans, which felt off given that Quinn's already hella paranoid about Rachel anyway. Hmph. BUT THE ACTUAL FINN/RACHEL INTERACTION, HOWEVER DUBIOUS HIS MOTIVATIONS, THAT STUFF WAS GOLD. Bowling! Height difference! "This play is weird." He appreciates her! Rachel's face after the kiss! Ach, I think it's obvious that he cares about her, but he just goes stomping around being all tall and oblivious with his giant tall-person clown feet. Also, I kind of really like that they keep kind of kissing awkwardly and they're not just saving it up for the finale or whatever.

+ RACHEL BERRY, BREAKING MY HEART ON A WEEKLY BASIS.

+
It gladdens my soul to think that, no matter how much pregnancy wank there is on this show, there is always going to be Kurt-shaped magnificence. His theories on Quinn's lactose-intolerance and delight in scandal make me happy.

+ "You know, when I heard Sandy wanted to write himself into a scene as Queen Cleopatra, I was aroused, and furious."

+ "SOMEBODY TO LOVE" WAS JOYOUS, AS EXPECTED. I kind of want Artie to get a solo at some point, though, I really like his voice.

+ So wiki tells me that at some point Puck is going to sing "Sweet Caroline". Also THERE WILL BE "DEFYING GRAVITY", I AM GRINNING AT THE MERE THOUGHT OF IT.
(gif credit)

Right, off to frantically finish reel_merlin at the last minute like it's, oh, any of my uni essays ever. How are you? ♥

It really would make my life if Paul-Bettany-as-Chaucer showed up

Sat, 26 Sep 2009 20:09:41 GMT

+ OH ADRIAN LESTER, I LOVE YOUR VOICE
+ Arthurrrr, who did you murder this time?
+ JOUSTIIIIIING, FUCK YEAH. Also, ouch. Also also, I WISH THERE WERE PILLOW FIGHTS.
+ God, I love Arthur's sweaty hair. Also the little bit that curls onto Merlin's cheek. GOOD HAIR THIS WEEK, BOYS.
+ FACE OF A BEAR, ARTHUR YOU ARE RIDICULOUS.
+ Ahhh, it's not really an episode unless Merlin trips over in the forest. Also, I enjoyed his mime.
+ CLOTHES SWAPPING FUCK YEAH
+ AHAHA, Myror's crossbow has a sight on it! I LOVE THIS SHOW.
+ BOOBS. Ahem. GWEN YOU ARE SO PRETTY.
+ GILBERT! Ahhh, sweet montage.
+ It has been too long since Merlin flopped onto his bed like a drama queen! ALSO GAIUS HAS A LEECH TANK.
+ NIGHTTIME SHENANIGANS. I am in love with Gwen's unimpressed face. Also Arthur is a princess and must have his pillows just so.
+ OH MORGANA, SO PRETTY ♥ Why does she look so tense? Tune in next week! Also Gwen is adorably into it. As is Uther! GOD I LOVE JOUSTING.
+ "I do all the work, someone else gets all the praise." I SEE WHAT YOU DID THERE, SHOW.
+ GAIUS SASS FACE FTW.
+ Um. I really could watch Arthur stretching for a long time.
+ OH MY GOD, MERLIN HAS HIS SLEEVES ROLLED UP AND ADORABLE TUFTY FLOOR!HAIR. Also that was a righteous speech, A++ Colin ♥
+ OH MY GOD, GWEN YOU ARE SO AWESOME. VERBAL SMACKDOWN: DELIVERED. ARTHUR: CHASTISED. ROMANTIC MUSIC: SOARING. Also he just manhandled her out of the door and is going to cook for her. Someone needs to gif that thing with the chicken. YOU KNOW WHAT THING.
+ AHAHA THERE ARE CANDLES, ARTHUR YOU ARE SO SMOOTH.
+ Ahhh, I love it when Gwen is in social justice mode. THAT'S YOUR FUTURE QUEEN RIGHT THERE, BITCHES. Also, he took her arm and she gave him a token and I am legit swooning over here. OH HOLY FUCK THEY DID THE KISS ALREADY WHAAAAAT IS THIS MADNESS. DUDE. Oh god they are so sweetly awkward. ALSO HOLY SHIT BRADLEY'S JAWLINE. AND GWEN WITH HER EYES CLOSED ALL ADORABLE LIKE. Siiiiigh. ♥_♥
+ Tipping the lance! I RECOGNISE THIS SNEAKY STRATAGEM.
+ "I have everything to prove." Oh Arthur, you are a doofus much of the time, but I do love you rather a lot. Also, The Arthur/Gwen theme really reminds me of the Braveheart score. Also also, anxious!Gwen and Merlin are adorable. Also also also, I love the French extras bopping about in jousting-related joy.
+ OH ARTHUR, LOOK AT YOU LEARNING LIFE LESSONS. Buuuut apparently not in a way that prevents an effective reset at the end of the episode. Right.
+ NEXT WEEK: MORGANA'S EYES GO GOLD AND SHE BLOWS SHIT UP WITH HER MIIIIIIND. Also, MORDRED!

Okay, some slightly more thinky thoughts:
+

ARTHUR/GWEN, ARTHUR/GWEN!!! I'm kind of stunned that they did the kiss this soon; with that and the Hallway Look Of Gorgeous Longing that's pretty much all of the non-Lancelot-related A/G stuff from the previews gone already. WHICH IS KIND OF EXCITING AND LIBERATING, N'EST-CE PAS? The possibilities are endless! But yeah, I LOVE THEM A LOT. ESPECIALLY YOU, GUINEVERRRRE. God, the scene where she just lays into him! I love her so much, and he tries but he is still kind of a STUPID BOY. Gaaaaaah, these kids. HATERS TO THE LEFT.

+

"Do you think I sit around and do nothing? I haven't had a chance to sit around and do nothing since the day I arrived in Camelot; I'm too busy running around after Arthur! 'Do this Merlin, do that Merlin!' And when I'm not running around after Arthur, then I'm doing chores for you, and if I'm not doing that, I'm fulfilling my destiny! Do you know how many times I've saved Arthur's life? I've lost count. Do I get any thanks? No. I have fought gryphons, witches, bandits; I have been punched, poisoned, pelted with fruit, and all the while I have to hide who I really am, because if anyone finds out, Uther will have me executed. Sometimes, I feel like I'm being pulled in so many directions, I don't know which way to turn!"

COLIN MORGAN, LADIES AND GENTLEMEN. Aside from it being A MOMENT OF FUCKING BRILLIANCE, this was kind of a huge relief after last week, because, yes, Merlin is in a bit of a pickle, and it's incredibly frustrating, but he's not desperately sad anymore. I GUESS POO-ON-FACE WILL DO THAT TO A GUY.

+ Gahhh I love this silly show so hard. Just, moments like the dressing-farmer-Gilbert montage (HEY GILBERT HEY!), where everything is so quick and so funny and back and forth, they fill me with a very Merlin-specific gleeful kind of glee.

+ That said, apparently the writers still can't have the two girls being interesting in the same episode. I mean, I can understand that there wasn't much room for Morgana this time, but I really hope that there are Gwen/Morgana scenes next week. It's not a big niggle, not yet.

+ ADRIAN LESTER DID NOT HAVE VERY MANY LINES. And then he died. Humph.

+ NEXT WEEK HAD BETTER BE AS FIERCE AS MORGANA DESERVES. I am very very very pro-Merlin and Morgana having pale and magical discussions ~~and/or crazy wall!sex~~

+ ARTHUR AND GWEN TOTALLY KISSED AND IT WAS LOVELY AND NOW PEOPLE CAN MAKE ICONS WITH DECENT QUALITY SCREENCAPS!!!!

Put a ring on it on three!

Thu, 24 Sep 2009 11:05:15 GMT

Hmmmm. I don't know. There is so much to love about this episode (KURT AND EVERYTHING EVEN TANGENTIALLY RELATED TO KURT AND HIS AWESOME WIN), but there's a lot that kind of makes me wince.

+ I HATE THE HYSTERICAL PREGNANCY STORYLINE, JESUS. I was so relieved when Terri confessed to her sister (heyyy, Rodney's wife from Rodney! Yeah, it's probably a good thing that they took ABC1 away from Freeview), but no, they really are going to drag this one out, aren't they? AND NOW THE QUINN THING, TOO. Ach, this storyline makes me so angry, because I like Quinn more and more every week, and she seems more human every week, and now she's just going to let Finn think the baby's his? GAH. Especially when Puck was all ready to step up and everything. And the cynical part of my brain might think that they're going with the Puck/Quinn stuff so they can get to a Finn/Rachel place (I WOULD BE OKAY WITH A FINN/RACHEL PLACE), but that kind of doesn't even matter when Puck and Quinn have such good chemistry and Puck looks so sad re: all things Finn/Quinn. And pregnancy storylines go on forever! I DON'T LIKE BEING IN A PLACE WHERE I AM HOPING FOR MISCARRIAGE DRAMA, FOR FUCK'S SAKE.

+ Whyyyyy must we have a Rachel/Will power struggle EVERY SINGLE WEEK? It's getting so old, so quickly. Like, I love Rachel to pieces, and scenes like the one in the dance studio, where she says what she's thinking even though her thoughts aren't particularly nice, are a massive part of that, but throwing a strop over every solo she doesn't get is not fantastic. Has she ever mentioned her deep emotional connection to West Side Story before? No?

+ THERE WAS NO FINN/RACHEL THIS WEEK. Not even a little bit.

Blech, I don't want to get all this downer in my Glee love, so here are some things that I liked!

+
KURT YOU ARE MY VERY FAVOURITE. Ach, Chris Colfer is so fantastic every week; he was all nervous in the stuff with his dad (did we know his mum was dead, by the way?) and so completely fierce the rest of the time. HIS BODY IS LIKE A RUM-CHOCOLATE SOUFFLE.

+ "Thanks, but I already have a date to the prom. But I'm flattered. I know how important dances are to teen gays." Ohh, Finn. ♥

+
HOW CAN ANYONE NOT LOVE RACHEL BERRY? Reeled in with the Liza Minelli/Celine Dion double-whammy! Although, she doesn't appear to have noticed that she's the only one in this production of Cabaret.

+ Tina got a storyline, represent! Admittedly, it was really Rachel's storyline, but I'm glad Will stuck to his guns and gave her the solo. Jenna Ushkowitz has a really nice voice, and she looked so happy while she was singing.

+
I like the Finn/Will relationship a lot, and this got me all choked up, NGL. It's kind of the opposite of everything that annoys me about how Rachel/Will is playing out, because the dynamic changes every week, they push each other and help each other in different ways. Also, you can borrow books from the library!

+ How cute was Emma's beret at the football game?

+

+
PUCK IS SO MAGNIFICENT AND NOW HE IS IN GLEE CLUB, FUCK YEAH. Also, this: "Hey, ankle-grabber! I had sex with your mother. No, seriously. I cleaned your pool and then I had sex with her in your bed. Nice Star Wars sheets!"

+

Sigh. Oh well, Kristen Chenoweth next week!
(gif credit)

So I'm looking forward to October

Wed, 23 Sep 2009 10:12:30 GMT

Priority members booking opened today for the London Film Festival... I may have gone slightly overboard.

Friday 16th October
18:00 - A Single Man (rayslady are you still up for this?)

Saturday 17th October
- Mad dash back Oop North to see Tom Sturridge in Punk Rock at the Royal Exchange

Monday 19th October
16:00 - The Road
20:30 - The Limits of Control

Tuesday 20th October
13:15 - Bluebeard
18:00 - Glorious 39

Wednesday 21st October
13:00 - Bright Star
15:30 - An Education
18:00 - The Scouting Book For Boys (AHA, I am apparently hanging out in Vue Screen 5 all this day)

Thursday 22nd October
18:30 - Clive Owen
21:00 - Valhalla Rising

*JIG OF JOY AND WIN*

Girls What I Crush On

Tue, 22 Sep 2009 17:46:10 GMT

Hi! I am bored and procrastinating because reel_merlin hates me today, therefore have something that is masquerading as a meme but is really just an excuse for me to post some pictures.

5. Lena Headey
So Lena Headey is awesome for any number of reasons - she was fierce as fuck in 300 and delightfully batty in St. Trinian's (I can't help it, I ship Miss Dickinson/Chelsea!) and hardcore in The Sarah Connor Chronicles (Iiiiii still need to see S2, but oh lord, the vests and the guns and the sexy fierceness). And, of course, Imagine Me & You.

ALSO SHE HAS TATTOOS DID I MENTION THE TATTOOS?

4. Katee Sackhoff
I really really love Kara Thrace, I may have mentioned that before, I don't know. A fairly hefty portion of my Starbuck love stems from the fact that Katee Sackhoff is a) AWESOME and b) insanely hot. ALSO SHE SHIPS KARA/LEOBEN AND RIDES MOTORCYCLES.

RIDES. MOTORCYCLES.

Also she does lots of photoshoots with Grace Park and Tricia Helfer, and it just seems petty to crop them out.

3. Kat Dennings
Kat Dennings used to hold the #2 position on this list, but she got bumped. SORRY KAT DENNINGS I STILL LOVE YOU A LOT OKAY. She was Norah and she sang in Charlie Bartlett and her blog is a delight and I DON'T CARE IF YOU THINK HER LIPS ARE WEIRD, VICKIE, you should worship her for the goddess she is.

2. Katie McGrath
You know how much I love Katie McGrath? I watched Freakdog today. Yeah. ALSO SHE KILLS ME WITH THE EYES AND THE GLASSES AND THE HAIR AND THE PIERCINGS AND THE HYPNOTIC BOOBS.

Freakdog. Seriously.

(gif by derryere)

1. MY ALL-TIME NUMBER ONE FOREVER GIRL CRUSH REBECCA HALL
Ach, what is there to say that I have not already spewed out in a mess of incoherent run-on sentences? JUST WATCH EVERYTHING SHE'S EVER BEEN IN, OKAY.

Spamming of the comments with these or any girl crushes of your own is strongly encouraged.

How are you? ♥

AW YEAH, IT'S MERLIN TIME

Sat, 19 Sep 2009 19:39:40 GMT

So I said most of what I wanted to say about 2.01 in my reaction to the BFI screening, but OH SHOW YOU ARE SO DELIGHTFUL, I AM SO GLAD YOU CAME BACK TO US ALL.

You know where there was some absolute gold, though? BBC THREE.

+ OH MY GOD, VIDEO DIARY SNIPPETS. They wouldn't tease us with these if they weren't going to put them on the DVD, would they? BRADLEY AND COLIN BEING IDIOTS WITH HEADPHONES IN! HELMET-BASED TOMFOOLERY! CONTINUING TO FAIL AT FRENCH!!!

+ It was like an S1 nostalgia fest, featuring scruffy facial hair!Colin and nervous!Katie and James The Director, with a clip of Bradley in Dis/Connected chucked in for good measure. REMEMBER WHEN THEY HAD TO HAVE REHEARSALS AND TALK EARNESTLY ABOUT THEIR CHARACTERS?

+ Katie essentially telling Uther to watch out. IT IS ON, BABY.

+ Katie being fake!bitter that Gwen gets all the manloving (there was a montage!), while she just gets powers and badassery.

+ SHOTS FROM ~THE FUTURE~ FEATURING ARTHUR AND GWEN HAVING GOOEY EYES AT EACH OTHER MULTIPLE TIMES. Relatedly, why is nobody talking about the fact that Lancelot appears to be a fucking CAGE FIGHTER now????? ALSO MORGANA'S EYES WENT GOLD. SHIT JUST GOT REAL.

+ I think the person soundtracking this thing spends a lot of time on YouTube watching delightfu fanvids. Montages to "Use Somebody" AND "Viva La Vida"!

LET US FLAIL COLLECTIVELY, CHILDREN.

FUCK YEAH

Thu, 17 Sep 2009 14:02:29 GMT

The 2.03 synopsis is up! You have to scroll down a little bit, but it's there.

OH THANK FUCK FOR THAT. I was worried this Merlin-and-Gaius-keep-Morgana-in-the-dark thing was going to play out forever, so this is a massive relief. Even if they don't get as far as Merlin telling her his own secret, at least this is an acknowledgement that he understands that she has a right to know this about herself. OH MERLIN, I'M GLAD I CAN CONTINUE TO LOVE YOU THE BEST, YOU SILLY BOY.

And Morgana! Once Morgana knows I can only imagine the ferocity that will be unleashed! WHAT IF THERE IS ANOTHER MORGANA/UTHER SHOWDOWN WHILE HE'S WEARING HIS GLOVES, HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO HANDLE THAT MUCH SEXY?

ALSO MORDRED MORDRED MORDRED THIS IS GOING TO BLOW MY HEAD OFF I CANNAE WAIT

"Josh Groban loves a blousy alcoholic."

Thu, 17 Sep 2009 10:53:19 GMT

THIS SHOW, IT IS A DELIGHT. I love that I can DL it as soon as I wake up, it is a jolly nice way to start the day. Alas, I am too lazy to be coherent, so here are some things that I thought:

+ KURT YOU ARE MY FAVOURITE FOREVER THAT IS ALL

MEEP.
+ Now we know why Cory's twitter is 'frankenteen'! Relatedly, that boy cannot move at all, it is so effing endearing.
+ AHAHA, I have such a crush on Matthew Morrison and his ~moves~, 'tis ridic'.
+ I continue to love Rachel wildly
+ VICTOR GARBER VICTOR GARBER VICTOR GARBER

Also, there was Josh Groban! A couple of my uni housemates were big Groban fans *cough templa_otmena cough* so I caught the bug second-hand, and, while I'm not exactly a stan, I do enjoy him and his soaring voice and wonderful hair. Not gonna lie, this episode made me DL "Awake" so I could listen to "February Song" again. IT'S SO GOOD! IT'S BEEN USED IN A MILLION ANGSTY FANVIDS! Also, remember that time he was on Buzzcocks and it was glorious?

YEAH.

I really haven't been reading enough lately (MERLIN IS BACK IN TWO SLEEPS, I HAVE BEEN DISTRACTED), but I started A Single Man, because, y'know, I like things that destroy my soul, but I'm also really liking Margo Lanagan's Tender Morsels. I'm still relatively near the beginning, but I don't really have the words to talk about all the amazing things that it's doing to me, how awful and horrifying it is without being explicit, and how I excited I am to read more. Meg Rosoff says it better, anyway. Speaking of Meg Rosoff, obligatory rec for How I Live Now, which is one of my favourite favourite favourite YA novels ever, and probably one of my favourite novels of any genre.

I AM VERY EXCITED FOR MERLIN, I DON'T KNOW IF YOU PICKED UP ON THAT. I am intruiged by news of this spoilery guest star (and the recurring character also mentioned in that post), delighted by Richard Wilson saying there's going to be a two-parter, Bradley talking about buddy movie adventures (and milk, obvs), and MERLIN IN GENERAL ALL OVER THE PLACE, WHAT JOY, WHAT JOY.

How are you? ♥

Wed, 16 Sep 2009 21:26:10 GMT

I am back from my brief London-based adventure! I was reunited with thedreamygirl for the first time since leaving York, JOY JOY JOY, but OF COURSE it was pissing down with rain yesterday. So, with nigh on five soggy hours until STARK SANDS O'CLOCK, we got cheapo tickets to see Adam at the Prince Charles Cinema. I really liked the film; it was a bit smooshy but the ending was lovely and HUGH DANCY AND ROSE BYRNE, FUCK YEAH. I was, like, weirdly proud of Hugh Dancy. Remember when he was Prince Char?

ANYWAY. After rounding up solitary_zero and eating some meatballs, we headed to the theatre (obligatory YAY DONMAR YAY). One of Hana's friends, memoryfloodsin, got there way early, and was therefore lucky enough to see the actors coming in. She told Stark she loved him in Generation Kill, and he was apparently lovely; he asked her name and shook her hand and in general made us swoon even hearing it second-hand. Her (far more articulate) post is over here. OH STARK ♥

The play was Fugitive Kind by Tennessee Williams (there was another reading on Monday night involving Tom Riley and Felicity Jones, Light Of My Life, but alas, I had to choose, and who knows when Stark will be in Blighty again?), and it turns out that rehearsed readings are pretty awesome. The cast all sat on chairs at the back of the stage throughout, allowing for maximum ogling; the stage directions were read aloud; the actors acted, but read their scripts from lecterns arranged all over the stage. I quite enjoyed the play itself, although it was a bit heavy-handed for my taste at times, but really I was there to squee all over the cast.

NIGEL HARMAN OH MY DAYS. Seriously, when he was on Eastenders having an affair with his fake!sister I had such an all-encompassing crush on him, like, I taped the episode where they finally got it on and rewatched it A LOT, and seeing him now with longer hair (curling! on his! forehead!) and not dressed like a lout... Well, it awakened lots of c. 2003 feelings. And he sang! It was lovely! And Con O'Neill! Con O'Neill, who I always find really sexy in an odd way, even when he had a skin condition in Criminal Justice! UNF. Claire Foy really had to carry the piece, and she was fantastic, so I really am going to have to watch Little Dorrit now, aren't I? ALSO STARK SANDS WAS IN IT. Sigh. In some ways his character, Leo, reminded me a lot of Nate Fick; the trajectory was one of idealism to disillusionment, but Leo isn't nearly as strong as Nate. Stark had a few completely gorgeous speeches, and some really meaty scenes, which was great - although he probably wouldn't have come all the way to London if the part wasn't good. Also, he was an adorable drunk and leaned against posts and things, it was delightful. ALSO ALSO HE HAD A WHITE SHIRT ON AND HIS FOREARMS OUT AND A PEN IN HIS SHIRT POCKET.

We lurked with intent for a little while after the performance, but he pretty much came straight out and headed off holding hands with his girlfriend, so we didn't try and stop him. We did note, however, that he had his backback on both shoulders, a la Ben Whishaw, like I needed one more thing to find adorable about him.

How are you? ♥

Icons! And Merlin shiz!

Mon, 14 Sep 2009 23:43:20 GMT

First up, a good old icon meme from clouded_logic!

Comment to this entry saying 'ICONS!' and I will pick 6 of your icons.
Make an entry in your own journal and talk about the icons I picked!

[history boys] scripps (darkangsty42)
So Scripps is my favourite History Boy; I may have mentioned this once or twice, IDK. And Jamie Parker has beautiful ginger forearms. THUSLY, ICON!

[disney] stripperella (iconomicon)
YAY DISNEY YAY. I'm not a huge Cinderella fan or anything, I just like this icon because it's kind of carefree and/or it allows me to infer a certain hoochiness that I enjoy. Also, if I ever make a post about bathtime, this would be useful!

[dw] science vs romance (nextjuly)
OH MARTHA JONES ♥ I think the text says it all, really, and my fabulous girl used her head and got out while she still could. FUCKING LOVE HER.

[twilight] dazzle!pattz (fivequeenlywits)
This is my only Twilight icon. I NEED NO OTHER.

[film] underage neckporn! (darkangsty42)
OH SKANDAR, I HARDLY KNOW WHAT TO DO WITH MYSELF NOW THAT YOU ARE LEGAL.

[sexy] eddie "cheekbones" redmayne (open_alibi)
LOOK AT HIM HE IS SO BEAUTIFUL AHHHH I AM SEEING HIM IN A PLAY IN DECEMBER

Merlin-type things! Firstly, thedreamygirl just spent a week binging on the first season and her love has rapidly progressed to the point where she is flailing over the video diaries and reading Bradley/Angel fanfic, AHAHAHA OH THIS SHOWWWW AND THE CRAZY VORTEX OF CRAZY IT INSPIRES. Secondly, BRADLEY JAMES. WHAT. Aaaaand the third thing is squee about the Katie & Angel Digital Spy interview so it's going under the cut for being very vaguely spoilery.

OH GOD LOOK AT THEM BEING ADORABLE. Ahem. So, I love that Katie is resistant to the easy classification of HOMG EVIL!MORGANA, and suggest that her arc this season is going to involve her accepting and embracing her powers. CAN I GET A 'FUCK YEAH'? And Angel made me squee wildly by not talking about how much Gwen OMG LOOOOOVES Arthur, but instead about Gwen being political and looking to Arthur as the next king and moulding him into the perfect leader! AND SHE WANTS TO BE A WARRIOR QUEEN, OH I LOVE HER. And the girls get to do more swordy things this series!

So tomorrow I am seeing Stark Sands in a play. YEAH.

How are you? ♥