milliways_bar | (no subject)

"You know, there are interesting allegations written about you in the ladies' room."

Morgan informs him with a bright smile. Mordred, on the other hand, just turns his head and blinks in Merriman's general direction - probably by coincidence.

~~And Morgan wins! with first use of new icon.~~

Merriman looks up, blinks, and manages not to stare at either Morgan or Mordred.

'I suppose propriety will prevent me from asking what they are?' He quickly holds up a hand. 'On second thought, I think that I am better off not knowing what they are.'

She shifts the baby in her arms to resettle him, and just grins at her teacher.

"I wouldn't tell you, anyway. Some things are not be shared."

'Then thank the heavens for small favours,' he mutters, relief evident in his voice.

His attention is drawn back to Mordred. Dark eyes study the infant for a long moment before his gaze shifts up to the boy's mother.

'All is well with you both, then?' he asks in a remarkably gentle tone.

Mordred gnaws on his fist and blinks. His own eyes are still a fuzzy dark, but he has a headful of soft, silky black hair.

"Aye, we are. Actually."

'That is good to know.'

He never saw the Mordred from his own word until the child was almost out of boyhood. Seeing this Mordred as a baby is a little unsettling, to say the least.

Softly,

"A Mordred. My Mordred. Not the bitter boy here. No, no, not my baby. I'll make it different."

'I think it will be.' A slight pause. 'I hope it will be. If it can be different in one world....'

A wry look crosses his face, almost a smile.

'Well, it will likely make the rest of us look all the more hopeless because of it. But there is no getting around that.'

She glances at him through her cloud of silky black hair.

"Nothing wrong with that."

'Perhaps not.'

One eyebrow goes up, just a fraction of an inch.

'Though apparently, the graffiti in the women's lavatory would seem to suggest otherwise.'

"Oh, it didn't imply that you were hopeless."

He is Not Touching that one. Not at all. In fact, her one-sentence reply has already told him far more than he'd ever like to know.

~~And Morgan gets the icon twice! She is very proud.~~

Morgan just smiles, and bends her head to kiss Mordred's hair.

"Do you want something for the headache?"

'No, thank you,' he says, with more dignity than he actually has. 'It will pass. Did you give my counterpart in your world headaches as well?'

"More. I don't like him." Which means she sets out to be difficult, instead of just being herself.

Merriman doesn't generally tend to pity his counterparts in other worlds. (It isn't self-pity, but it comes far too close for his liking.) In this instance, though, he might feel a tiny twinge of sympathy for the Merlin of Morgan's world.

'Then once again, I am thankful for small favours.'

Flatly,

"Quite."

How does she do it? Really? Because, guess what? Yep!

Fox in his lap.

Fox lips on his lips.

Fox tongue...you get the idea.

She'd caught him off guard, so there is a moment of flailing where he tries to keep the chair from tilting and depositing both of them unceremoniously on the floor.

(Well, he would have landed on the floor -- she would doubtless have landed on her feet.)

When he manages to surface for air, he steadies himself and sets his book down. 'Good evening, Ako-ue.'

"Good evening, dear heart."

She chirps, settling down with her arms wrapped around his neck and her head tucked under his chin,

"How are you doing? Its been too long."

'Well enough, truly.' Reading the Stoics helps, at times like these. 'Have you spoken to Mister Wellard since our last conversation with him?'

"Yes."

She does not nibble at his adam's apple.

"He is getting used to the talking, and I mentioned that I shift shapes, but he hasn't seen me like this yet."

The Stoics will not save you forever, Lyon!

Well, not forever. But they help!

'It is a start, if nothing else. I think it will take some time for him to fully come to terms with it...but he is a sensible lad, and I think he is better able to understand than most.'

She chuckles, softly, and kisses the adam's apple,

"Oh, yes. You are all so strange, you bipeds. So many hangups, and yet at the same time so understanding once you get past them."

His mouth twitches faintly. 'I think that is how most of the patrons in this place survive their visits here -- they accept it for what it is, gods and demons and shapeshifters and immortals and the whole pantheon, by not letting it trouble them. Like stones skipping over water and leaving only ripples afterward.'

"Am I a ripple in your lake, dear heart?"

She asks with her eyes wide and innocent.

Another twitch -- and yes, it's approaching an actual smile now.

'You, Ako-ue, are rather more like a speed-boat. And I mean that in the most complimentary way.'

Most of the time, anyway.

Her grin could nearly split her face apart as she looks him right in the eyes and says,

"Liar. Love you anyway."

'Why should I lie?' Now it's his turn to look innocent. Though on him, an attempted look of innocence generally makes him look as if he's tried sainthood and found it wanting. 'It seemed the most appropriate description.'

She would love to hang that expression on the walls of her memory.

Better yet, to snap a picture and hang it on the walls of her house, but she doesn't think he'd go for that. So her smile widens just a bit larger,

"Oh, I wasn't talking about the description, dear heart."

Just the bit about it being a compliment.

One eyebrow quirks, but he says nothing.

So she beams at him, and kisses his nose.

She really does like the nose. Its long. And pointy.