Room 511, Friday Lunchyish

[thatsamilkshake]

Francine was feeling a lot more cheerful than yesterday, or at least a lot less like being a pillowfort hermit with only baked goods for company.

Besides, she'd run out of baked goods. Which is why there were lemon bars cooling on the windowsill. Cookies: not just for hiding under the covers with anymore!

[Open!]

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[bitchprince]

Arthur, on the other hand, was starting to get rather hungry.

He'd even tried to go down to the cafetaria this morning. Never again. He'd rather starve than eat the slop that... thing... had slammed down onto his plate.

Unfortunately, with Merlin being as he was, that left him little choice but to go elsewhere.

So there he was. He knocked.

[thatsamilkshake]

Well, it didn't sound like a bird banging its head against the door, so Francine just called "Come in!" from where she was. That being, 'at her desk, sitting on her hands so she didn't go over and scarf down half her cooking before it even cooled down.'

[bitchprince]

Coming in seemed to be a little more forward than was generally normal when you were dealing with a lone woman in her rooms, so Arthur pushed open the door slightly. "Francine," he said.

[thatsamilkshake]

"Arthur, hi." She walked over. "Merlin hasn't turned into something new, has he?"

[bitchprince]

"No, but I'm sure he's simply biding his time," Arthur said, dryly. "You mentioned baked goods yesterday."

[thatsamilkshake]

"I did?" She'd slept since then. "Oh, I did. Yuh-huh. I made some lemon bars this morning, actually."

[bitchprince]

"I'll try some of that," Arthur said.

He was being entirely gracious about it.

"So you're a baker," he added, in a misguided attempt to sound as if he was showing an interest.

[thatsamilkshake]

Very gracious. Luckily, Francine liked to feed people and had really low standards for male behavior. Plus, guests were totally an excuse to skip waiting for them to cool properly.

"I like making food," she corrected as she turned away towards the window. "I'm not exactly a chef."

[bitchprince]

It was rather fortunate, really, that Francine's low standards for male behavior and Arthur's attempts at using the upper rung of his non-political social skills were coinciding at a sort of middling plateau of...

Whatever.

"Can't be any worse than the cafetaria," he said, still managing to stay gracious.

He remained in the doorway. "What else can you make?"

[thatsamilkshake]

Francine dug out two slightly sticky squares and slid them onto a paper plate, then grabbed another one for herself, sans flatware. "I guess it depends. I can make dinner things, but I don't do it much here because the kitchens are so small. Cookies and cakes, stuff like that. Ooh, and brownies -- I made brownies for Chuck."

She snatched up a couple of napkins, since lemon bars are notoriously powdered-sugar-shedding, and carried the plate back over to hand to Arthur. "They're a little gooey, sorry, 'cause they're still warm."

[bitchprince]

"Quite."

Arthur even managed not to pull a face. Instead, he took the plate, napkins and all.

Some corner of his mind idly wondered if there was some kind of tipping involved in this one as well. "Would you happen to cater breakfasts as well?"

If Merlin was going to be a bird for another five days, someone better feed him. Might as well make it easy and go to the boy's 'girlfriend'.

[thatsamilkshake]

Francine blinked. "Well, I don't charge for it. But I...can make breffasts. Um, breakfasts." She eyed him wryly for a moment when last Saturday clicked into place for her. "Only for people who share the juice, though."

[bitchprince]

"Of course." He would rather not discuss the whole weekend debacle. Even if he had been bloody useful to have around. "We'll see how far your prowess in that area extends, then."

Oh, sure. Challenge the girl.

He took one of the squares with a napkin, and cast the stickiness a somewhat dubious look before he tried it.

[thatsamilkshake]

It was a lemon bar. It was supposed to be sticky. And also sweet and tart, in a pleasantly disturbing sort of way. Which Francine, at least, decided it succeeded at when she took a bite of her own.

"Needs more powdered sugar, maybe," she conceded, but it didn't really. It was just that she hadn't realized half of it was now on the tip of her nose.

[bitchprince]

It wasn't too bad. It certainly wasn't the slop Hunith had fed him - grateful as he had been for it, thank you, Gwen - and the girl had reminded him of Merlin's mother rather an awful lot.

In terms of Arthur's appreciation, 'no mockery' ranked fairly high up there. "I doubt that," he said instead, and took another bite.

The words do you have any bread? drifted lazily around his head, but it wasn't as if he had anywhere to sit here for a proper lunch.

[thatsamilkshake]

It was probably just as well, since in fact she didn't have any bread. "Well, you can never have too much powdered sugar."

Yes, yes, you can. At least, you can have too much on your nose. Thankfully, a nervous swipe at her face that wasn't even intended to accomplish anything managed to brush it off.

[bitchprince]

Right.

"I think you can, actually," Arthur said, dryly, "but that's hardly a matter of debate. I'll see you in the morning, then." He finished up his bite. Yes - definitely decent.

Somewhere in his heart of hearts, Arthur genuinely believed everyone (barring his father) in this world lived to serve him.

Yes, even Leto.

[thatsamilkshake]

"Okay, sure!" After all, sombody had to take care of the guy, since Merlin couldn't.

She hadn't forgotten the whole 'can't dress himself' thing, you see.

[bitchprince]

Arthur could dress himself, he would've assured her, should she have brought it up, it's just that he didn't see the point when he could get someone else to do it.

"Have a good day," he said, nodded respectfully, and turned on his heel.

He may have stuffed the second sticky food-thing into his mouth mid-turn. It was always nice when the universe fell into place as it should.