caspian still has the keys to the car, so susan hails a cab and tells the driver to head for their hotel. if only they had more people, she thinks grimly, they could have the on-call getaway driver. if only they had more time to organize more people. if only peter never got involved with the mafia, et cetera. there was 46 carats of bad juju in her purse and she hated each of them.
"did you just come from that?" asks the driver, looking at the nest of bedlam that is the museum, squad cars beginning to pull up.
"god no," says susan. "i can't stand those high society bitches."
gwen's cellphone rings as the cab drops her off in front of camelot suites, and the caller ID says arthur, so she answers it and runs to the elevator at the same time.
at first she thinks the museum alarms must still be going on, but then she realizes it's just morgana, screaming and screaming, and gwen divides her willpower in two. one half is dedicated to talking morgana down, and the other half is staring down the elevator numbers and willing it to come down faster.
"morgana," says gwen desperately, "slow down, i can't understand you--"
"don't go up into his penthouse," morgana pleads. "gwen, get as far away as you can from camelot--"
"what--"
and then there is a loud rumble, and the building shakes.
the last thing lucy wants when the alarms finally die and the lights come back on is arthur's personal assistant jumping out from behind a pillar yelling I GOT YOU YOU THIEVING BITCH and tackling her to the floor. but it's what she gets anyway. life is tough that way.
"she's not picking up," morgana sobbed, after the third try calling back after her call with gwen was dropped. "oh god, she's not picking up. if she's dead i'm going to take your fucking balls off," she threatens.
caspian raises his hands. "hey, we didn't want any of this to happen, okay?"
"you shut up!" morgana snaps. "i can't believe you! who the fuck do you think you are, just strutting in here like this after years of i don't even know!?"
"maybe she didn't hear the ring," says peter, shrugging. "you gotta figure, with a bomb going off, it's probably chaos over ther--"
"quiet, you," says arthur.
"morgana," says caspian pleadingly, and "morgana," says arthur firmly, and peter stays the hell out of it. if they can just talk morgana down and convince her to go along with the whole thing, they can talk their way out of here easy as pie.
"pete!" someone hisses behind him, and he whirls around. to his relief it's lucy, her makeup smudged and her skirt a little torn, but she looks well enough. "you all right?"
"i am so wonderful right now, thanks for asking."
she ignores him, and goes to tap arthur on the shoulder. "arthur."
"not now," arthur snaps.
"arthur, we've got your personal assistant tied up and unconscious in the janitor's closet," says lucy. "you should see him before he wakes up and tries to fight us again. explain to him the situation."
morgana raises her eyebrows. "the situation, is it?"
"who's 'us'?" caspian asks suspiciously.
"cor," shrugs lucy.
"cor?" peter echoes in disbelief.
"merlin," arthur groans, covering his face with his hands.
no subject
"did you just come from that?" asks the driver, looking at the nest of bedlam that is the museum, squad cars beginning to pull up.
"god no," says susan. "i can't stand those high society bitches."
gwen's cellphone rings as the cab drops her off in front of camelot suites, and the caller ID says arthur, so she answers it and runs to the elevator at the same time.
at first she thinks the museum alarms must still be going on, but then she realizes it's just morgana, screaming and screaming, and gwen divides her willpower in two. one half is dedicated to talking morgana down, and the other half is staring down the elevator numbers and willing it to come down faster.
"morgana," says gwen desperately, "slow down, i can't understand you--"
"don't go up into his penthouse," morgana pleads. "gwen, get as far away as you can from camelot--"
"what--"
and then there is a loud rumble, and the building shakes.
the last thing lucy wants when the alarms finally die and the lights come back on is arthur's personal assistant jumping out from behind a pillar yelling I GOT YOU YOU THIEVING BITCH and tackling her to the floor. but it's what she gets anyway. life is tough that way.
"she's not picking up," morgana sobbed, after the third try calling back after her call with gwen was dropped. "oh god, she's not picking up. if she's dead i'm going to take your fucking balls off," she threatens.
caspian raises his hands. "hey, we didn't want any of this to happen, okay?"
"you shut up!" morgana snaps. "i can't believe you! who the fuck do you think you are, just strutting in here like this after years of i don't even know!?"
"maybe she didn't hear the ring," says peter, shrugging. "you gotta figure, with a bomb going off, it's probably chaos over ther--"
"quiet, you," says arthur.
"morgana," says caspian pleadingly, and "morgana," says arthur firmly, and peter stays the hell out of it. if they can just talk morgana down and convince her to go along with the whole thing, they can talk their way out of here easy as pie.
"pete!" someone hisses behind him, and he whirls around. to his relief it's lucy, her makeup smudged and her skirt a little torn, but she looks well enough. "you all right?"
"i am so wonderful right now, thanks for asking."
she ignores him, and goes to tap arthur on the shoulder. "arthur."
"not now," arthur snaps.
"arthur, we've got your personal assistant tied up and unconscious in the janitor's closet," says lucy. "you should see him before he wakes up and tries to fight us again. explain to him the situation."
morgana raises her eyebrows. "the situation, is it?"
"who's 'us'?" caspian asks suspiciously.
"cor," shrugs lucy.
"cor?" peter echoes in disbelief.
"merlin," arthur groans, covering his face with his hands.