"Professor Gaius?"

"Merlin? Merlin Emrys? This isn't really a very good time, my boy. Can it wait until our tutorial tomorrow?"

Merlin stared blankly at the wall in front of him, his fingers wrapped tight around the phone. "No?" he said, after a moment.

"Oh, very well then – get on with it. What?"

"Um." Merlin tried to sort the whirlwind of his thoughts into some kind of useful order. "Arthur knows I'm a wizard, and he's very pissed off indeed. And I sort of turned his plane into part of the School of Sorcery. Or turned The Great Dragon into a plane, depending on your perspective. Although at least it was only the Learjet, and not one of those Typhoon things, dripping with weaponry and pirate-detectors."

There was an astounded silence on the other end of the line.

"Professor Gaius? Are you still there, sir?"

"Yes, Merlin," said the professor in a very even voice. "I'm just having a bit of a sit down. Will I regret asking why you decided to help a dead monster to possess the prince's private jet? We'll leave aside the mindboggling question of how for the moment."

"It was crashing into the sea," said Merlin, simply. "The jet. With us in it. We needed a way out – I thought that would do it."

"I see," said Gaius. "And this is the first method that sprang to mind? Not, for example, a simple teleport spell to move you off the plane – or, come to that, to move the plane to the runway?"

"Er – I haven't really learned them yet," Merlin said, sheepishly. "This seemed easier."

"It seemed easier," said Gaius. "Of course it did. An impossible task once performed in the Golden Age of sorcery 'seemed easier'. I suppose I should be grateful you didn't turn him into a kraken."

"He was brilliant. He was – really, he was just brilliant. I'm really proud of him."

Morgana sighed. "Me too. I mean, I do quite want to smash him over the head repeatedly with a chair, but I'm very proud of him too."

"Really – do you stay up late at night trying to work out the most stressful thing you can throw at me?"

"No!" Merlin said. And then he felt a wash of guilt, because Gaius was an old man. "No, sir. Sorry, sir."

"When I asked you to try to keep out of trouble over Christmas, this really wasn't what I meant, you know."

"But this isn't my fault!"

"And yet here you are in the middle of it again, Merlin."

"Well – well, yes. Um. Sorry, sir."

"You are an only child, aren't you, Merlin? I mean, I won't be looking at a collection of Gandalfs and Harrys and Sarumans and Voldemorts toddling up to St Andrews over the next few years?"

"No!" Merlin exclaimed, choking with unexpected laughter. "No, sir, I'm an only child."

"Pot, meet kettle."

"And so he did what any self-respecting man in his situation would do. Er, no, actually, he didn't."

“I’m not sure if you gentlemen have noticed, but you’re blocking the way,” Emrys drawled almost lazily as though the three of them combined didn’t have a dozen or more stones on him. “Is there a specific reason for that, or are you simply three-dimensionally challenged?”

"It’s been a long time. I thought you’d call.”
“I can’t imagine why you would,” Sherlock snapped, folding his arms, sleeves rolled up to his elbows, “considering I believe my parting words to you were ‘If I ever see you again, dental records won’t even be of any use in identifying your body’.”

Now they were at the table by the window, John enjoying his Italian meal, Sherlock enjoying his big, steamy plate of absolutely nothing.

This called for an expert second opinion.

He pulled out his phone and shot Gwen a text: Ice cream emergency. Stat.

Her reply came within seconds: pint or gallon sized emergency?

That was why he loved her.

He’s absolutely gone for Arthur. He knows it, Arthur suspects, it’s likely there are tribes living in the outer provinces of Uzbekistan with no electricity or running water who are discussing his hopeless crush on Arthur over their evening campfires.

И прекрасны вы некстати, и умны вы невпопад.