Morgana cleans up nicely. Too nicely, Gwen thinks, if the looks she's getting from the guards are anything to go on. For this night only they're not an official couple, but that doesn't mean Gwen likes watching other people stare at her girlfriend. Morgana, ever the professional, laughs off the bouncers' advances in a way that doesn't embarrass him or anger him, and thanks him profusely for letting them in. "I can't believe I lost the invitation," she says.
Gwen smiles at the guard as they pass and thanks whatever gods exist that he doesn't flirt with her. She's not as graceful for Morgana; she'd likely punch him in the nose.
"Okay," says Morgana, once they're inside the club. "D'you see him? I know he's here." Even though Arthur hadn't told them where he was going for his birthday, the list of places he'd pick was small enough. Morgana called around to find the one that was rented out for the night, and voila. Instant Arthur. The real challenge had been dressing themselves up so they hadn't looked like the Prime Minister's stepdaughter and her best friend, but thankfully Morgana knew a trick or two with makeup
"There," Morgana hisses in her ear, "over by the bar." Gwen follows her eyeline and sees him, arm clapped around Lance's shoulder as he laughs at a joke.
"Are you sure you want to do this?" Morgana has always told Gwen she has a kind heart and this is why: their pranks, though elaborately planned, are also a product of Morgana's wicked streak. And, well, it /is/ Arthur's birthday.
"Are you kidding?" asks Morgana. "I've been waiting for this moment since he spiked my drink at the ambassador's dinner." Gwen has to stifle a laugh at that memory, because Morgana's already-tenuous control goes out the window the moment she has too much alcohol in her system. Uther had been scandalized at some of the things that had come out of Morgana's mouth that night; the Ukranian ambassador had confided to Gwen later that it was one of the most memorable visits he'd ever made.
"Okay," says Gwen timidly. She's still a bit afraid of burning the place down. Or burning Arthur's eyebrows off. He /does/ have a very nice face, and she wouldn't want to ruin it. Morgana grins at her and they edge around the dance floor, blending in with the spangled and coiffed girls already swaying to some sophisticated electropop. They make it to the kitchen at last and slip in.
"I'm sorry, ladies, you can't be back here," says the head chef, almost immediately. Morgana giggles and grabs on to his shoulder. "'m sorry," she slurs. "'s just so /wavy/ out there. I though' I could escape...."
The head chef stares at Morgana's chest. Gwen wills herself not to attack him. "I guess it would be all right if you ladies wanted to sit down until you were feeling better," he says. "Let me grab you some water." As soon as he's disappeared, Morgana grabs Gwen's hand and pulls her through the kitchen. The cake is on the back table, immaculate. After a quick glance behind her to make sure the chef isn't back, Morgana reaches into her bag and pulls out the package of candles.
They're not regulation candles, exactly. They're the result of Morgana being bored by her chemistry course and Gwen's latent pyromania, and as such have a tendency to cause explosions. Very small ones, of course, but enough to scare the son of a Prime Minister when he tries to blow them out. They quickly replace the candles in Arthur's cake and Morgana places the old candles in the box, slides them back into her purse just as the cook emerges.
"I have your water--please say you didn't touch the cake," he says, bustling over to them. Morgana puts on her best innocent face. "'s so /pretty/," she says.
Gwen smiles at the chef and pulls Morgana back, away from the cake. "I'm sorry," she says. "As soon as she drinks her water, we'll be out of your hair. We'll find her somewhere else to sit." The cook nods, leaning over his cake to make sure not one chunk of frosting is out of place. It's not--Morgana and Gwen are the best. After twenty very long seconds in which Gwen is sure the cook is going to turn around and recognize them, Morgana finishes the water. "Thanks," she smiles at the cook.
"We're going now," says Gwen, tugging Morgana along with her. The chef turns around and looks at Morgana's chest for a moment before his eyes wander to Gwen's face. "Hey," he says, "aren't you--?" and Gwen nearly runs out of the kitchen, Morgana by her side.
Because they might as well have fun while they wait for Arthur to get their special present, Morgana drags Gwen to the dance floor where they do absolutely terribly at not acting like a couple. Thankfully, everyone at the party is either too smashed to recognize them through their disguises, or too involved with someone else to care. At last, the lights in the club dim and the cake is presented to Arthur. Morgana and Gwen push their way forward so they have a good view, cameraphones out.
Arthur smiles at the birthday song and roudy well-wishes from his friends. The press raise their cameras, and Gwen holds her breath. Arthur blows out all twenty-two candles and grins, the crowd cheers. Gwen counts to two. And then a series of popping noises reignite them, sending small jets of flame into the air. Morgana, along with half of the crowd, cheers.
Arthur’s composure doesn’t slip, he laughs it off and invites his friends to try their hand at extinguishing the candles. But as soon as the attention is on Gwaine he starts scanning the crowd. Gwen squeezes Morgana’s hand. ”I think we should get out of here,” she whispers.
Morgana nods in agreement and they back away slowly, only breaking into a run as they near the door.
"Good party?" the guard asks as they leave.
Morgana looks back, laughter in her eyes. ”The best.”
YOUUUUUUUUUU AAAAAAAAAAARE THE BEEEEEEEEEEEEEST
