Just a Little Taste

 

Merlin didn’t know what to say to that. She’d nearly gaped at him, but had managed to keep it to a disbelieving stare. And then she started turning red and looking down, flattered and unsure of what was a good response.

 

“If it’s alright?” he asked to be sure, voice hopeful.

 

And Merlin’s breath hitched and she looked shyly at him.

 

“That…that would be nice. We could…talk for a bit…finish this dessert…um, if that’s good with you,” Merlin was uncertain and floundering. This had never happened to her before. Being stood up for a date (granted, she’s never actually been on a date before), having some guy flirting with her (one, a very handsome man, and two, the only one who’s ever attempted flirting with her had been Arthur –and she did not want to think about him right now), and actually the center of a man’s focus and having such flattering attention on her.

 

Despite being pretty and popular, when it came to talking or socializing, people gravitated towards Morgana (the social butterfly) or Gwen (sweet and kind, but more social than Merlin that was for sure). Merlin admitted she could be a bit of a wallflower…

 

“Fantastic,” Tristan’s smile was slick and confident, and her eyes couldn’t help darting a glance at his soft-looking, enticing lips.

 

Well, this was strange. Why was she acting so strange? She couldn’t ever recall ever having such a reaction to anyone before…Admittedly, her focus had always been on other things than boys…

 

“Just let me order another dessert, since this looks to be about finished,” he hailed over a waiter, ordering the German hazelnut slice of pie and another glass of the red wine he’d brought over with him.

 

“I,” she turned red again. “I don’t know how you could have noticed me at all, especially when you’d been in a meeting earlier. I would hardly constitute any attention.”

 

He put down his wine glass elegantly and he leaned over the table, closer to her.

 

“That’s where you’re mistaken,” he murmured, hand briefly reaching out to caress her hand. “I was utterly distracted the whole meeting, from the first moment my eyes caught sight of you.”

 

Oh, her face was going to turn permanently red.

 

She was blushing entirely by then and couldn’t help staring at him wide-eyed.

 

“I wanted to skip the meeting and head straight over to here, and give a lonely-looking and pretty lady some company. The entire time, I kept looking over here, eager to be done with the meeting and hope that I wouldn’t be too late to introduce myself to someone as enrapturing as you. I disliked seeing you here by yourself, obviously stood up by your date, and had the strongest urge to come to you and be your solace. If I hadn’t had to put up with that meeting, I would have come sooner to you, milady.”

 

Such an old-fashioned and gentlemanly address had her face continuing to flame red.

 

“Still, it seems you’re captured by my looks,” she shot back challengingly. “You hardly know me.”

 

But Tristan’s lips only twisted into a sly grin, not seemingly bothered by the accusation.

 

“That I never denied, have I? From afar, it was all I could gather,” he smoothly hooked his hand around one of hers, and then held it up gently, cradling it with such care. “But I deeply wish to have the chance to know you far more…intimately.”

 

Her breath caught in her throat and she started feeling even shier than she’d started being with him.

 

“Sorry,” he apologized with a wry grin. “That had come out much with much more innuendo than was actually meant. Your likes and dislikes are what I aim for at the least, for the moment.”

 

She laughed lightly, feeling at ease with him, despite the odd and somewhat difficult conversation they were going through to get to know each other. Though it was more awkward and strange than difficult, mostly due to her inexperience and uncertainty with such things…

 

Even spending another hour at the restaurant with Tristan, and Merlin still saw absolutely no sign of Arthur. No call, text, or message to show he was late or not coming, and she was left there feeling foolish, and yet slowly feeling better by being near this stranger she just met.

 

They finished the second dessert he’d ordered and he’d just hailed over the waiter for the check, when the waiter mentioned something she had almost forgotten about.

 

“May I have the check?” Tristan politely requested. He smiled slightly at her. “I’ll pay for your dinner.”

 

“Ah, there’s no need, sir,” the waiter interrupted hesitantly. “It’s been paid prior, on a tab.”

 

Tristan’s eyebrows raised and Merlin blinked, before remembering what Uther had told her.

 

“Oh, that’s right. The, um, father of my date had had everything sure to be paid for,” she uncomfortably revealed, though she didn’t want to think about that and Uther because that meant she had to think about Arthur and the failed date.

 

Tristan’s eyebrows raised a little higher before he was back to smoothly smiling at her and nodded.

 

“Oh, well. Okay,” then (she might be mistaken) his eyes darkened and he leaned closer to her. “I did ask to spend the rest of the night in your presence.”

 

She was going to start floundering again. Her heart picked up and she was sure her blush was never going to go away.

 

“You know, I’m quite familiar with the nightlife of New York,” he murmured, licking his lips slightly. “Would you like me to show you how the night really lives?”

 

Maybe he was still a stranger and maybe she shouldn’t be contemplating going anywhere with someone she just met and didn’t really know…but she was still feeling humiliated, upset, and a little rebellious about everything and with everyone, and a little vengeful against Arthur.

 

And Morgana had always said that Merlin had the tendency to be a bit boring at times and a little ‘safe’. Well, she’d prove her wrong this time.

 

“Okay,” she breathed out, still unsure but eager at the same time.

 

And then she was practically hopping all over New York, visiting nightclubs and shows and places and having her eyes opened to all the different sorts of experiences one can have in the city, and feeling high off the experience as much as she was practically culture-shocked.

 

As his warm, comfortable hands settled around her waist and her back was pulled perfectly fit against his front as they swayed to an intimate dance in the club they were currently in, music blaring, adrenaline and the miniscule amount of alcohol swimming through her veins, Merlin wondered if she should tell Tristan she wasn’t really old enough to be in the club, much less drinking, or even being with him.

 

Meanwhile, Edwin stared dumbfounded at the scrying bowl that was weakly powered, watching the incarnation of his murderess. This was not how it goes. If he lost Merlin to anyone, it was supposed to be Arthur. It had always been Arthur! What was this? How could this be happening? Most lives, from past to reincarnations, there was always parallels.

 

Tristan de Bois had been dead in Camelot by the time Merlin had come about. How would the two of them, now in this world and time, be so strongly attracted to each other and gravitate so easily to each other like this, when they’d never had a prior connection or bond in their original lives?

 

Parallels. It was parallels. So why was this happening now and what was going on?

 

He grimaced and searched out one of his books, knowing he was going to have to look into this. He’d also probably have to dig through his memories and think if there could have possibly ever been some kind of connection formed before…

 

He spent the night on his work, and Merlin had only been shown half the places Tristan had thought of. And by the time they were done, it was 3 in the morning and Merlin was too tired and just the slightest drunk to say anything about crashing at his penthouse.

 

The morning brought about a different response however.

 

Nine in the morning and Merlin thought she was dreaming. She was beginning to panic at her unknown surroundings, glad at least she was fully clothed, though not wearing the dress she’d been wearing last night. A white dress shirt and some boxers were more comfortable than sleeping in the dress (and she wouldn’t have wanted to ruin or mess it up in any way, considering Uther had bought it for her), but it still made her nervous to know she’d been changed out of her own clothing and that her memory was slow to come back. It was, but too slow for her to be comfortable at the moment.

 

“Breakfast?” Tristan walked through the door, holding a tray with breakfast and two mugs of coffee.

 

Her mouth went dry, seeing him in only his boxer shorts and naked chest. She averted her eyes, feeling the return of her blush.

 

“Don’t worry –nothing happened, I promise,” Tristan spoke dryly and she gave him a sheepish smile, accepting her mug of coffee and helping steady the tray and put it onto the bed.

 

When he’d sat down beside her, she’d thought nothing of it until he leaned closer and started kissing her thoroughly. She’d been surprised and still, until she moved into the kiss and practically melted into him. With her memory becoming clearer, she embarrassedly remembered that she’d made out with him several times last night.

 

“So…today is Saturday,” he announced smugly. “What do you want to do? Because you have me at your beck and call to do as you will. You have me for all of today,” he promised.

 

It was at once both teasing and sincere, that it had her smiling widely and feeling appreciative.

 

“I live here and all, but I’ve…never been to the Empire State Building or the Statue of Liberty,” she said shyly.

 

He blinked at her before shrugging and smiling lazily. “Ah, but then again I haven’t either. I live here also, but I tend to travel a lot so I’ve never really gone there either. ‘Kay, Tourist –we’re sightseeing today.”

 

She laughed freely and they ate the rest of their breakfast companionably, with small talk in between.

 

“So, I have a call to make. You can take a shower through there,” he pointed at a door. “And I’ll meet up with you after. I bought some clothes from the little shop next door, after you went to sleep first last night, thinking it might be prudent for you to go around in regular clothing than a formal dress the next day–and I doubt a dress shirt and boxers would be any better,” Tristan winked at her.

 

She grinned widely and he left to go make his call. Immediately, she searched out her phone and scrolled through her contacts list for Uther, forgetting she had him on her favorites.

 

Sliding her cell open, her fingers flew over the keyboard as she walked automatically to his bathroom, closing it behind her and locking it as she focused on her text, just noticing she had a bunch of missed calls.

 

Please call Mom and tell her I’m at your house?

 

She bit her lip as she waited for the return text, knowing he always replied quickly to her.

 

Merlin? What’s going on? Where are you?

 

She winced.

 

I’m at a friend’s. I’m okay. She hesitated at what to put, but she decided on ‘friend’. It wasn’t…untrue.

 

No, it’s –ugh. Fine. I’ll do it. About Arthur, I’m really sorry about him.

 

She immediately text a quick reply to cut him off from his probable second part of his text, turning on the shower straight after.

 

It’s okay. Don’t care. Thanks. TTYL.

 

She sighed and gently put her phone, rubbing the palm of her hand against her forehead. Then she started to strip and get into the shower, finally noticing the bathroom.

 

“Holy crap.”

 

The place looked like one of those awesome Vegas special suite bathrooms, marble counter/floors and all. There was a separate tub to the side, large enough to fit in at least four of her, and the shower she was in had see-through glass surrounding it, surrounding showerheads, and a…electronic system. She furrowed her eyebrows at it, walking closer and curiously touching it. It was on a preset setting and she immediately sighed in bliss at the water turning into a more massaging setting and Green Day playing in the background.

 

In the back of her mind, a miniature her was brooding in the corner, miserable at the fact that she seemed to have rich people gravitate towards her. She was pouting, she admitted it to herself. She didn’t want to look like some kind of gold digger, dammit…

 

Again, she wondered if she should tell him that she’d just turned 17. She hadn’t the night before because she’d thought she would never see him again, and that it was supposed to be just one reckless night she was going to have, with no one the wiser. She just hadn’t counted crashing at his place and deciding to even spend the day with him (she hadn’t really thought he wanted to still be near her or spend time with her, or choose to spend yet again more time with her –or her feeling the same way). His offer had surprised her, but more so that either one of them had even wanted to still be together after a fantastic night that she hadn’t thought would go further than that.

 

But apparently they were going to have a Saturday outing, in the daytime and surrounded by plenty of others. Like a normal time. Like a normal couple time. Like a date.

 

It was the complete opposite of what the night had been, a night ‘adventure’ that had never meant to go beyond what it was, with a guy she never expected to see again (due more to her thinking he wouldn’t care to see her again, but also because she had no big expectations about running into him in a big city like that and with the two of them hardly saying enough about themselves to be able to find the other again), and having no idea what the future had in store for the two of them.

 

Merlin hurriedly finished in the shower and then stepped out, grabbing a towel and rubbing herself down quickly. She left the bathroom to go searching for the clothes he’d mentioned he’d gotten her, over in his bedroom, only for her to be caught in just her towel by him. His eyes ran appreciatively down her body, smirking at her teasingly.

 

“Well, here’s the clothes. I gather we could go to another shop further away and get you more nicer clothing, but these will have to do for now until we can make it to one, and you can change there.”

 

But seeing the cheesy and common ‘I <3 NY’ t-shirt and the simple beige cargo shorts had her smiling and willingly grabbing onto them from him.

 

“No, these are fine,” she smiled reassuringly at him. “I’m a ‘tourist’, right?” she teased him. “Tourist clothing is fitting then.”

 

He laughed and came closer to her, hands gently trailing and wiping off water droplets clinging to her shoulders. She swallowed heavily and felt rather funny.

 

“Tristan, I have something to tell you,” she whispered in a rush, slender hands gripping onto his muscled arms, even as he was planting distracting kisses around her neck and jaw.

 

“Hm?” he hummed against her skin.

 

“I’m 17,” she blurted out and felt him practically freeze up against her, lips still touching her neck and hands still firmly gripped on her hips.

 

She nearly went into shock when a moment later he’d gone back to his administrations without further pauses.

 

“Well, that’s certainly inconvenient,” he murmured against her. “But not too troubling. I do, after all, still very like you and enjoy your company. Your age is rather trivial in the face of that. The age is bothersome, but at least we’re in New York.”

 

She blinked in confusion, though still enjoying his attentions and relieved about the age thing.

 

“What does New York have to do with anything?”

 

He laughed lightly, pulling back from her and going back to smirking rather playfully at her.

 

“Age of consent is 17 in New York,” he winked mischievously.

 

She laughed, knowing he was having fun teasing and trying to provoke some kind of flustered response from her, but even more relieved that at least she wasn’t going to get him arrested.

 

And then she started to become flustered, the reaction delayed as she sputtered, turned red, and shyly averted her eyes to everywhere but him.

 

~*~*~

 

Arthur groaned, feeling his head killing him. He lifted himself heavily from the couch he’d collapsed in, looking around with bleary eyes. He furrowed his eyebrows, trying to remember the night before, and remembering that the team had finished practice and there’d been a party at Percival’s to celebrate the coming of Homecoming.

 

He felt the couch he was in be shoved rather roughly, confusedly seeing Lancelot trounce pass him without another glance.

 

“What’s eating you, Lancelot?” he mocked, grinning slightly.

 

His confusion upped when his fellow teammate didn’t answer him and continued on his way out of the house. Grumbling now about weird teammates and his stupid headache, he got up himself and reluctantly walked through the living room (where he’d been) and through the foyer, planning on getting home as soon as possible. He was happy that the drive there had been uneventful, and could trudge into his house in relief and hope that he could rest through his hangover and not be bothered.

 

Instead, an eager Morgana and even his father were sitting in the kitchen, enthusiastic and impatient for him to come and them to practically attack him.

 

“So, how did it go?” Morgana immediately demanded.

 

Arthur blinked at her in confusion.

 

Uther interrupted. “I know I should be disapproving and whatnot, because staying out late and probably renting a room for ‘it’ isn’t something most parents should be happy about, but I hope you were a gentleman and was safe?”
 

“Wait, what are you two talking about?” Arthur cut in by then.

 

“Your date,” Morgana rolled her eyes. “You know, with Merlin.”

 

Arthur’s face drained of color. “My…date…with Merlin.”

 

Morgana and Uther froze, staring at him.

 

“Tell me, Arthur,” Uther started in disbelief. “You went, didn’t you? You ate with her in the restaurant, right? You didn’t do something stupid, did you? Stupider than sleeping with her?”

 

Arthur stayed quiet.

 

Morgana stomped over to him, reeling back from smell of alcohol still clinging to him.

 

“You-you stupid boy!” she screeched. “Don’t tell me you were out partying last night and drinking too much to remember you had a date with the girl you’ve been trying to date since freshmen year! I can’t believe you! You’re so stupid and immature and irresponsible,” she ranted. “No wonder Merlin never said yes to you before! She was bloody right not to! I hope she never says yes to you ever again!”

 

Angrily, Morgana stalked away from him and out of the kitchen, loudly being heard going all the way to her room. Arthur cringed and also looked away from his father, not wanting to see how his father looked then.

 

“Arthur…” his father’s tone was more than just disappointed and he flinched visibly. “Right now, I’m just really upset. I am angry, but I’m more upset now. I’ll probably be angrier later, and I’ll yell at you later when you can appreciate it and not have that headache I know you have…but I can’t even calm myself down at the moment. Just…go to your room. Sleep off your hangover, but you’re not allowed to do anything else. Just…go.”

 

The blond fled from there, inwardly cursing himself with each step. Uther just sighed tiredly before practically lunging for his phone and tapping into his favorites for Merlin’s number, calling her. After repeatedly calling with no answer, and increasingly becoming worried each time no one answered the phone, he was starting to panic and think that something might have happened to her the night before.

 

He was genuinely and extremely relieved to receive her text after 10 minutes of straight calling with nothing in return.

 

Please call Mom and tell her I’m at your house?

 

His eyes widened at the request, wondering why on earth would she be asking that and why would Merlin want to lie to her mother? It was especially unlike her. He wasted no time texting a reply, feeling his worry double.

                                                                                                  

Merlin? What’s going on? Where are you?

 

He waited impatiently for a reply, reading it immediately when he got it.

 

I’m at a friend’s. I’m okay.

 

He frowned. It sounded off to him and Merlin would have told him which friend. And as far as he knew, from what Morgana, Gwen, Arthur, and even Merlin herself said, Merlin didn’t really have too big a circle of friends and was relegated to mostly that mentioned group. Morgana and Arthur were obviously out, and Morgana had informed him that Gwen was going to finally go on a tentative date with Lance that day, after seeing Merlin actually finally accept Arthur’s invitation –though now, all parties knowing or involved probably were regretting that.

 

No, it’s –ugh. Fine. I’ll do it. About Arthur, I’m really sorry about him.

 

He regrettably texted. He didn’t really want to lie to Hunith or do this particular cover up, especially if Merlin was in trouble or something. And he was also regretting Arthur’s part in it. He was about to text more apologies on his and Arthur’s behalf when he received another text from her.

 

It’s okay. Don’t care. Thanks. TTYL.

 

He winced, practically hearing the cool tone in that. He wanted to demand more answers, find out where she was or just something other than her emphasis on her okay well-being (which did the opposite of reassuring him), but didn’t want to seem pushy. Instead, he resignedly texted one last message.

 

Okay. Still sorry. Anyways, I don’t want to look naggy or act like your father…but promise you’ll text every hour so I know you’re okay from whatever you’re doing and wherever you are? I’ll be worrying otherwise and it’ll help.

 

He hesitated before adding one last text.

 

Be safe.