Tangible Schizophrenia


Open Season

Author: Guede Mazaka
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Arthur/Guinevere/Lancelot
Feedback: Good lines, bad ones, etc.
Disclaimer: Ideas originated with the movie, not me.
Notes: Mention of Horatio Hornblower.
Summary: One reason why Arthur doesn’t like schmoozing.


“Guin,” Lancelot gritted out. “I know it’s against every rule in the handbook, but I’m going to kill our boss.”

She concentrated on not snapping the stem of her wine-glass. “And it’s against every rule of nature, but I’m going to have to agree with you.”

Pellew’s house party. The invitation had been to all three of them, so she and Lancelot had tag-teamed Arthur until he’d agreed to get his head out of his books and go. It should have been good for him—a little cerebral company since Pellew turned out to have an interest in the Enlightenment philosophers, a little relaxation with them in Pellew’s marvelously Victorian bathrooms. But instead of being staid old stuff-bags like expected, the rest of the guests had turned out to be relatively young, hungry-eyed bastards and cunts. The moment Arthur had walked in had reminded Guinevere of a Discovery vid of a shark feeding frenzy she’d seen once. Speaking of…“Oh, bugger. Where’d he go?”

“In search of the universal panacea, but no such luck,” A harried-looking Arthur slipped from behind them. He forgot to ask a yelping Lancelot for permission before he grabbed the other man’s drink and downed it like a tequila shot. “What in God’s name is wrong with these people? They’re all trying to get into my trousers! And I’m not even remotely trying to flirt!”

Lancelot blinked very slowly. He opened his mouth, closed it, and was opening it again when Arthur suddenly paled and shoved back into the shadows. Guinevere rolled her eyes and shut Lancelot’s jaw while she glared at that bottle-blonde who’d been moving Arthur’s way.

Competition always brought Lancelot back to life. “You know, sometimes I don’t know what I want to do more: drop down and suck him off, or hit him with a frying pan.”

Someone was going to die, if only because that worked better than aspirin for the kind of migraine that was creeping up on Guinevere. “In case you haven’t noticed, there are more important matters to consider. Such as the roomful of people that are trying to poach on my--our--”

“Fuckbunny?” Lancelot ducked his head and attempted to look cute. He should’ve figured out by now that Guinevere was immune to that. “Ow!”

“I knew Pellew was going to get us back for that mess you made of the Townsend case. Now shut up and help.” Guinevere ignored his whinings about how if she’d done this and that…he stopped after a token protest. Good. They had a professor to catch.