thatsamilkshake | St. Louis: The Coffee Shop Across The Street From Francine's Dorm, Wednesday Evening

Wow, a red-letter day for Francine: the first time since she'd left Fandom that she actually missed the ability to fume her way over to Caritas and order whatever the heck she wanted without getting carded.

Not that she'd ever done that while she was there and not thinking she was someone else -- she just missed the ability now. Peppermint hot chocolate just wasn't the same. Francine sighed and glanced out the window at the sidewalk; at least the drink was warm, unlike the cold, grumbling rain outside.

Oh God, someone was waving at her from the gym next door. Pigtails, leotard, bright, wide smile... Any other time, maybe, but the last thing Francine wanted to do right now was talk to someone who would bounce in her face.

Which was why she immediately grabbed her phone and held it to her ear as if she'd just received a Very Important Call. Don't make eye contact don't make eye contact don't make eye contact...

[Open for actual calls/texts, because scaring the frak out of Francie is fun. Francie, on the other hand, is not very fun at all right now. A vague disclaimer is nobody's friend. Also given the hour and my threat-level-violet headache, SP is the name of the game; pinging in late/tomorrow is fiiine.]

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It was probably a good thing Francine couldn't see the expression on Arthur's face right now; it was the one he generally used when he doubted the existence of her brain whilst being completely confused at the same time.

"...I was talking about you," he said, "Not bloody geography!"

Oh, sure. Yell at her. That'll do it.

"Well, why didn't you say so?" Possibly not entirely flat, then, but you couldn't call it bouncy, either. Except perhaps for the sudden sharp drop back to "Oh. Right."

"Right."

And the prize for least comforting phone call in the universe goes to...

"Do I need to go maim someone?"

Sometimes he and Merlin had eerily similar brains.

"Maybe, but the only options are me and Katchoo." Not that she could tell you which was the better choice, there.

There was a short silence on the other end of the phone. Arthur was thinking, damn you. Like about the risks of getting in the middle of a fight between females of the species.

"All right," he said, at last, "What's the weather there like?"

And people wondered how certain stereotypes came to be.

Oh, Arthur.

"Stupid."

Oh, Francine.

"I mean, raining. And cold."

"We've been getting our fair bit of rain here as well," Arthur observed, inanely. "There are currently repairs taking place in the lower town to avoid damage or illness by the weather."

Look, it was this, or he faked an emergency and turned off the phone. This was progress.

Well, fake-normal had its own calming effect, too. "How is everyone? Are Gaius and Morgana okay after all that stuff with Aredian?"

"Gaius is mad at father," Arthur said, after a moment. "Er. Not that that damages his authority any."

Still. Gaius. Angry. Father. Wince.

"Gee, do you think?" The weather wasn't the only thing that lacked sunshine today. "Gaius was supposed to be his friend, and he turned him over to somebody who tortured him and was gonna burn him at the stake."

Granted, it did put 'Wants to paint naked pictures of me and has an idealized image of me in her head that I can't live up to' in perspective.

"I didn't say I blamed him for it," Arthur defended, quickly.

"No." Francine ran a hand through the ends of her still-damp hair. He didn't say that; she was just used to Arthur defending his father's choices, or at least Arthur's ability to convince him to make better ones. "Sorry. How is he?" Not so much because she cared about Uther, no.

There was another one of those pauses, but this time for completely different reasons. "He's... father," Arthur offered, at last. "Unless you mean Gaius, who has recovered quite well."

"Good. About Gaius, I mean, though I meant your dad. I was hoping maybe he was starting to change his mind about things because of that."

"No," Arthur replied, exhaling. "No, he has not. But I doubt he will be inviting any witchfinders into Camelot again."

The inner fortitude it took not to say So he'll be doing all the burning at the stake himself, then was immense. Immense, Arthur.

"That's something, then, I guess."

She could try that one again in a couple of months' time, and he might be more willing to hear it. "It is," Arthur said, audibly uncomfortable. This was proving to be such an excellent telephone conversation. "And we're almost completely ready for winter."

And only if you were Merlin would you know exactly how those two were interconnected.

"Just in time for spring here. Almost. You should come here when you get tired of snow."

"I would, but the people will need me in winter time," Arthur said. Somewhat apologetically. "Though you're always free to call on me in a crisis, of course."

"I didn't mean the whole winter, silly. I think Camelot wouldn't freeze over if you and Merlin came to see us for a weekend sometime."

St. Louis: The Coffee Shop Across The Street From Francine's Dorm, Wednesday Evening

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