I go back to December all the time (Gaston)

[Guinevere]

Guinevere had come to the conclusion that she was going to have to tell Arthur. Uther would most likely want to tell Arthur himself, but she couldn't keep it any longer, he should have to suffer through this too. However, before she did that daunting task she decided to take some time to relax and pamper herself first, and so had decided to go shopping. It was always the perfect way to relax, she spent so much time thinking about colours, styles and fabrics that she didn't have to time to worry about the deal she had made with Uther. She had already bought more than she needed too, in number of items and price but she just couldn't bring herself to care.

Nothing could break the serene calm she was now feeling as she browsed through the mall, looking for some new pyjamas. Nothing except the constant giggling that was happening beside her.

She was currently contemplating comfort versus style in a pair of white and black flannel pyjamas that had little white sheep all over them when she spotted them. They were looking at some night dress that was barely there but bound to have a large price tag, not only that but it was orange and purple and would clash wonderfully with the girls red hair. However on closer inspection she noticed that they were barely looking at the garment and instead were focusing on a big hulk of a man from not too far away. He looked quite muscular as he stood in front of the clothes section and the girls were clearly impressed so imagined he must be handsome. She allowed herself a little look as well, after all a little look never hurt anyone...

That's when he turned around...and she saw his face...his very, very recognisable face...

The first thing she did was stuff the pyjamas in her basket before she realised she didn't owe this man anything. She could have white fluffy sheep on her pyjamas and he couldn't say a thing about it, she didn't care how he would react. So why the hell was her heart racing? Why did she have that horrible tight feeling in her stomach and why did she want to run over and slap those silly giggling girls? He hadn't noticed her, she was sure of it, she ducked down behind the clothes stand.

She shouldn't be like this, she should be calm, cool and collected, the Princess that she was. Not the quivering, nervous girl that had just seen her ex and wow didn't he still look good. Curse him! Yes. Anger, that would help. She shouldn't be nervous, she should be furious with him, after everything he put her through she should be ripping his eyes out of his face. Yes, there was the ice queen attitude that she needed. Lifting her head high and slinging the pyjamas over her am, just out of sight until she needed them she briskly walked past him, pretended to do a double take and smiled, "Oh Gaston, I didn't see you there. I didn't know you were back, how are you?"

[gaston]

He needed clothes. He only had one pair of jeans remaining since his trip home, having spent his time away from Avalon dressed in his more traditional attire, rather than the jeans and tight t-shirts he wore at Avalon. But he'd also put on a little weight since being at home - although if you mentioned it he'd say it was merely his muscles getting even bigger - and on checking his wardrobe at the frat house, he'd discovered he only had one pair of jeans that still fit him. And so, this meant heading into the town, sunglasses on, tight t-shirt emphasising his glorious pecks, tight jeans showing off his fantastic bum. He was glad for the good weather of the day, as it meant all the girls were out in their little summer dresses. That was something he'd certainly missed while he'd been away - the fantastic view. So much flesh! He'd been trying to convince the girls in his village that they wore too much material and didn't show enough leg, but it hadn't gone down too well. So he'd just convinced them to lower their necklines by another three inches, and that had certainly had it's rewards. But it was good to be back.

Of course, he was more than a little jumpy. Every girl he saw with that specific hair colour, that specific length, combined with that perfect body shape - and there were a lot of them - his heart jumped into his mouth, and his stomach did a flip. He felt sick by the time he arrived at the mall, and he quickly ducked inside, burying his concentration in a rail of t-shirts. This was ridiculous. Sure, it hadn't exactly ended well - it hadn't ended at all, he'd just run away - but he had to man up. Maybe she wouldn't be angry. Maybe she wasn't even here anymore... Gaston pushed that thought away quickly. He hoped that wasn't the case. Trying not to think about her anymore, he focussed his attention on the shirts in front of him, looking around occassionally to wink at the nearby gigglers.

He didn't even see her until he heard her voice. He spun around, going pale, his stomach flipping so hard he thought it was about to force all his internal organs out of his mouth if he opened it to speak to her. He glanced down at the shirt he had in his hand and inwardly cringed, kicking himself as he saw what was plastered all over it. Hannah Montana. He didn't even know they made men's shirts with that on, but right now he wanted to brutally murder the person who'd come up with the idea.

"Gwen... hi." He said shakily, after trying to swallow his heart back from his throat into his chest. Attempting to regain some sense of dignity, he leant nonchalantly against the clothes rail. "Yeah, been back a few days." How was she so calm? Was she over him? Was she ok about everything? Make her jealous... He heard a small voice in his head. The voice that controlled his libido... the one he instantly responded to, no matter what. The one that had gotten him into this mess in the first place.

"I missed the view, the entertainment, you know." He said with a smirk, lowering his sunglasses on his nose and looking over at the two blonde, giggling girls and winking again, before smirking and turning his attention back to Gwen. "So... how've you been?"

[Guinevere]

Could it be? Was it possible? Did the man in front of her feel just as nervous, just as terrified about this encounter as she did? Could it be that in his recent absence he had found a humanity, a deeper level to his character that simply wasn’t face value and shall we say…shallow? It made her relax a little more, seeing him just a little off balance, if he was in fact off balance and her mind wasn’t playing tricks on her. She could do something about this, she could smile and comfort and perhaps…perhaps from this point the two of them could move on, maybe he was ready to be mature about all of this. Maybe…

Or MAYBE he was turning around and flirting with the giggling girls proving that he was the same narcissistic, misogynistic, flirting dog that he always has been and always will be. Maybe he really was as shallow as he appeared and maybe he was really back for the entertainment and the view and maybe she shouldn’t waste any more time on thinking about it because MAYBE…he didn’t care about her after all.

He had said he had been here a few days. A few days and he hadn’t been in contact with her over those few days? He hadn’t rung her to at least ask her if she was ok, to tell her that he was ALIVE? No, because he wasn’t thinking of her, and how worried she was…well…how partially worried she was, he was just thinking of the next pair of big…melons he could jump into the fruit basket with. Or in baking terms which he loved so much, the French fancy was simply back in the cake store because he wanted to try out some of those new fairy cakes that would be light and fluffy but hardly filling. Not like the vanilla slice, which was wonderfully tasty and VERY satisfying. Not that the vanilla slice cared. It was a cake. Cakes don’t have feelings.

Placing the cold smile back in place and desperately trying to keep it there she said, “Oh I’ve been fine. Busy, but fine. It’s just been one thing after the other you know? Merlin moving in, Arthur’s father arriving, Lancelot disappearing, Marian’s wedding, planning that was an absolute nightmare, and then Marian moving out, and that other Lancelot turning up, not the same one, another one, and him being a total…well…I have some choice words about him I would like to say but not in a public place but he is not a very nice young man and then of course I had to tell Arthur about the arrangements that Uther and I made and…and…It’s all been a bit hectic.”

She hadn’t realised just how much had been building up on her these past few months and she just let it all out…so much for the cold smile she had kept in place. Her composure was verging on breaking point and she could feel her voice breaking a little towards the end as she turned her face away from him, desperately trying not cry. It would have been so…good…to have had someone with her through all of that…and that was the horrible realisation she came to at that point. As much of an arrogant pig he still was…it was would have been wonderful if he had been there.

Clearing her throat she finally looked round at him and smiled, “and you? I heard you went home for a while…”

[gaston]

He didn't want to be concerned as she blurted everything out like that. He honestly didn't. It would have been so much easier if he hadn't been, if he had felt absolutely nothing at seeing her, if he felt nothing as she stood in front of him, looking as beautiful and goddess-like as ever, if he hadn't felt a single shred of concern as she blurted out everything that had happened since he had last seen her. But he did. He felt his heart pound and his palms sweat and his stomach lurch with emotion and lo--. He refused to even let himself think the word. He had to move on. She had, before he'd even left, and now he had to. He'd been a fool to think that Gaston and Guinevere would ever have worked, he'd paid the price, he'd suffered the heartbreak, and now he needed to move on. It wasn't like there was any shortage of women he could use to get over her. It was just... his heart wasn't in that anymore. He hated that about himself now - not that it stopped him. The only thing he really, truly enjoyed these days was hunting, and that was only because he got to kill things. The walls of his tavern at home had never been so full of dead animal heads.

But he wasn't hunting now. He was standing in a clothes shop, in front of the woman he loved, trying desperately to keep hold of some thread of dignity. And he was pretty sure he was failing.

"Sounds like things have been... busy..." He finished lamely. "I just went home for... erm... rest and relaxation. Lots of hunting, killing things, hacking off their heads and displaying them on my walls... you know." He attempted to puff his chest out, and at least retain some of the bravado he was so well known for. "So... you look well..." Beautiful...

[Guinevere]

Hunting. Of course.
 
Whilst she stays here and worries about whatever became of him after she heard he walked in to that lake he was hunting. That probably wasn’t all he was doing, oh sure, he was probably telling the truth about all the dead things on the wall, after all she had paid a visit to his dear little tavern during the tournament when she had saved his worthless life. But that couldn’t have been the only hunting, now he had probably been out prowling on a much more delicate prey, those poor dim-witted girls. What suckers, what fools to fall for a man like this.
 
Like she did.
 
Like she had.
 
Like…she didn’t even know.
 
And now he was saying she looked ‘well’. Well?!
 
No, no she had to stay calm, she needed to keep the upper hand here but she was losing it. Well. Well she would smack him one right in the face. What was wrong? Was it a hair? Was it a mess? She hadn’t checked it in the mirror this morning just letting it hang down. She hadn’t put any make up on either, maybe that was it, maybe she did just look ‘well’. And…
 
“Hunting? How wonderful,” she said smiling through gritted teeth, “that’s great. Getting back in to the swing of things I see, more like you’re old self. I’d heard from some people that you hadn’t been too well before you headed home.”

[gaston]

Oh God, he could hear the tone of voice, the one he knew so well, the one that had always reduced him to total submission and made him tell her everything she wanted to know. He'd never been able to lie to her, or keep anything from her, or mislead her... not when she used that voice.

But that was in the past. She obviously didn't care about him anymore. Gaston was pretty sure she hadn't cared about him for a long time. And bringing up his... ill health before he went home... well if she hadn't gone off with that bloody Lancelot then he would never have... he took a breath, pushing the thoughts from his mind.

"Well... yeah, erm... I had a cold or something." He lied, avoiding Gwen's gaze and looking determinedly over her left shoulder. "So I went home..."

[Guinevere]

“Oh…I see…a cold…” she said still smiling through gritted teeth.

She had clasped her hands in front of her and didn’t realise how bad an idea that was until she looked down and saw that her newly manicured nails were digging in to the back of her hands. Well that was going to leave a mark. She looked up and quickly clasped them behind her back instead. He wasn’t looking at her, probably because he was lying, because he was ashamed because…she glanced back over her own shoulder to see what he was looking at…or maybe whilst they were having their heartfelt reunion he was eyeing up some little wench.

Looking back at him she dropped the smile, unclasped her hands and slapped him, shouting, “LIAR!”

Placing one hand on her hip and the other poised and ready for another hit she walked towards him saying, “I know exactly what happened. Did you honestly think you could keep something like that from me? Of course I was going to find out!” hit, “you selfish idiot, what in the name of the Goddess did you think you were doing? Walking into a lake? You, complete and utter idiot, you could have DIED!” hit, “Which, ok, was maybe the point, but you didn’t even come and see me, you came back, after I might add, forgiving you for sleeping with that wench, and you didn’t come to see me?! You fool, you big, dumb, stupid fool, how could you do that when you knew, you knew how much I cared about you?”

[gaston]

He almost allowed himself to breath. He'd been practically holding his breath since he'd turned and come face to face with her, waiting for her to explode on him... but she hadn't. And he'd been just about to breath at last, when she finally went mental at him. He barely felt the slap, it hardly even knocked his head sideways, but it came as one hell of a shock. He backed off slightly, staring at her, trying to think of something to stay but failing miserably, and just staring at her with his mouth hanging slightly open.

As she moved towards him, he backed off further, the jeans he'd pulled off the rack falling to the floor. He knew she had a temper, but he hadn't expected this reaction from her. He'd been hoping that she hadn't heard about his little... accident... but deep down he'd known that was a futile hope. Of course she'd have heard. How would she not have done? It was her best friend who'd pulled him out of the damn water... he cringed inside. She was right, he knew she was, he should have told her, or been to see her, or written to her... or something.

He grabbed her wrists as she hit him again and held her tightly, holding her arms over her head so she couldn't move, and couldn't pull away. "Alright, Jesus, will you stop?!" He said loudly, scowling at her. He didn't appreciate anyone hitting him - the only reason he hadn't hit back was because he had been so shocked. And because it was Gwen... obviously. "Just stop!" He took a deep breath and looked at her, still holding on to her.

"I... I just..." He didn't know what to say. He could feel himself getting more and more wound up and angry, and he let go of her wrists, pushing her backwards slightly. "How was I supposed to know you cared?" He shouted, finally losing his temper. "You were off with that damn knight, for all I knew you didn't give a crap about me!"

[Guinevere]

This was better.

Ok, so she really wanted her hands free to hit him some more, and she was desperately trying to wriggle them free of his grip, to no avail, but this was much better. If he had cowered, if he had felt sorry for himself, begin to apologise, and…walk into another lake or something, that wasn’t the man she knew, that wasn’t the man that she…probably best not to think about that right now. Angry was good, angry she knew.

“But you didn’t even stop by to ask if I cared, you didn’t even want to hear it from me!” she said glaring at him and shouting just as loudly, “NO! you just took some stupid idiots word for it, and I love Lefou, really I do, he’s like the stupid yet lovebale little deranged dog I always wanted, but what does he know about how I feel!!”

Her hands were trapped, there was one way out of this right between his legs and she could kick hard. She looked down at it and almost raised her legs.

She didn’t take the shot.

What was the point? End this argument now? Some things needed to be said, and it was easier to say when one of them wasn’t clutching their nether regions in pain.

“And I was NOT off with some knight! I was talking with some knight, I was hanging around with some knight because…oh yeah. He was my friend. And my boyfriend had run off home, despite the fact that I forgave him for sleeping with some brainless wench! After flirting with my WORST ENEMY! And even if Lance wanted something to happen between the two of us, it would never have happened because it didn‘t feel right because he wasn‘t YOU!!”