-34-

Arthur made his way down the street to the little coffee shop that one of his staff members recommended. He had shared an elevator with Merlin Emrys the other day and he had commented on the delicious-smelling brew that he held in one hand. He had been given the name of a coffee shop and that's how how found himself here. At 8:30 in the morning on a Sunday.

He was not a morning person during the weekend. If anything, he was difficult and grumpy and wanted nothing else but to be left alone. But he kept remembering the smell of coffee and decided that he would go and get himself a cup and then go spend the rest of Sunday lazing around Camelot.

He sighed. He wasn't actually looking forward to going back to that cave of a house, but as all his friends were either with their families or significant others, he was left all alone.

'Poor little rich boy,' Merlin had actually taunted him. Arthur had laughed because he knew what it implied.

He found the coffee shop and was immediately greeted by the same fragrant smell that had him so intrigued in the elevator. He was pleased to see that there were only a handful of customers in the shop; it meant he could take his time in selecting the perfect cup. As with everything he found pleasure in, Arthur was fastidious with his coffee, and if this shop came up to his standards, they could expect his patronage for a very long time.

He made his way to the counter when a slight movement from one of the tables caught his eye. Arthur turned and immediately felt his heart drop to his knees.

She was wearing a soft lavender blouse, its pastel hue enhancing the copper perfection of her skin. Her hair was dark, thick, and curly, and from what he could observe, coming to just above her waist. Her fingers were long and delicate, cradling a rather oversized cup from which she was currently taking a sip.

Arthur groaned when her lips touched the rim of the cup. Her lips were full and lush, and when she pursed them to blow slightly at the steaming brew, he had to close his eyes to block out the thoughts that were worming their way in his mind.

He stood there, frozen, staring at the vision in front of him. Arthur didn't know long he gawped at her, but he was only shaken out of his stupor when he heard her laugh. Somewhere, at some point in his life, he had read a laugh being described as "magical." He had dismissed that and thought it rather silly.

Until this moment.

This woman was magical.

"Mr. Pendragon," a familiar voice called his name and he turned to see who had said it.

"Over here!" The voice called out again and Arthur saw Morgana Le Fay, one of his company's lawyers, calling him over. To the table where the beautiful woman sat.

"Ms. Le Fay," he greeted her as soon as he reached their table. His eyes, however, were fixed on the other woman and it seemed like she could not take her eyes off him as well. It should have unnerved Arthur, but instead he was happy. Her gaze—her soft, curious, beautiful eyes—were on him and somehow, he couldn't explain why, his heart was soaring.

"Mr. Pendragon..."

"Arthur," he corrected her. "Out of the office, it's just Arthur."

"Arthur," Morgana began again and turned to the man beside her. "This is Elyan...my boyfriend."

Arthur noted the pause and the blush and realized that their relationship was new.

"And this is Guinevere," Morgana indicated to the other woman who extended her hand.

"Gwen," she corrected gently. "Most people just call me Gwen."

Arthur grasped her hand and the contact was more than electric. He felt warmth travel from his fingertips, up his arm, and spread through his chest. He saw her lips part in a gasp and knew that she felt it too. She pulled her hand from his and put it on her lap, her gaze, though, never left Arthur's face.

Elyan chuckled and that got Arthur's attention.

"Guinevere, Arthur," he smiled and sipped his coffee. "Reminds me of a story I read once. Interesting, really, you should read it, Gwen."

"Maybe some other time," Guinevere replied, her eyes still on Arthur.

Arthur looked at the woman before him. His gaze took in her creamy skin, the delicate arch of her brows, her full, generous lips and knew, immediately, that he would give her forever.

He was vaguely aware that Elyan and Morgana made their excuses and left. He didn't care, really. He was here, sharing this moment with a woman he was determined to get to know better.

They sat there, quiet, until Guinevere (despite her protest, he loved the way her name sounded in his head) broke eye contact and looked down.

"I apologize Mr. Pendr..."

"Arthur," he cut through. "Please, call me Arthur.'

"Arthur," she said and a shiver went down his spine. "I apologize, I've been staring."

"I've been doing the same thing," he confessed and was pleased at her blush.

"I feel like...like I should know you," Guinevere said. "It's completely illogical, but I feel like you're familiar, somehow."

A frown marred her brow.

"I feel the same way," Arthur confessed. "And that handshake."

He shook his head before continuing.

"When I touched your hand, that felt..."

"Magical." Arthur completed the sentence and saw her eyes fly wide.

"Yes," she said.

Arthur rubbed a hand on the back of his neck. He had known this woman for minutes, what he was feeling was not logical.

"Is...anything wrong?" Guinevere's soft voice broke through Arthur's thoughts. "You look stressed."

'Stressed,' he thought. 'I've decided that I was going to marry you on sight, I'm stressed all right.'

"Will you go out with me tonight?" He blurted out and then fell silent as he realized that his question was rather abrupt.

"No," she said and Arthur's face fell.

But she smiled and looked at him. Those beautiful brown eyes seemingly seeing into his soul.

"Let's get through coffee first, then ask me again," Guinevere said with a smile.

"I'd like that," Arthur said softly.

'Whatever it takes,' a tiny voice in Arthur's mind said. 'Whatever it takes, Arthur, make yourself worthy of this woman.'

A small smile bowed his lips.

He knew he would risk all for her love.

From a shadowed part of the coffee shop, a distinguished-looking older gentleman smiled at the couple whose eyes were speaking volumes.

"Tread carefully, young Pendragon," he said softly. "She will guard her heart from now on."

Then he regarded the young woman who sat with the comportment of royalty.

"My Queen," Kilgarrah said. "He will not fail you this time."

-End-

AN: Thank you to everyone who read, reviewed, favorited, and added this to their alert list. Until the next story. – BNQ