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❝Hi, this is Arthur Pendragon's phone. Leave your name and number and I'll get back to you as soon as I can. Ta.❞

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[ Arthur doesn't IM Merlin until later that afternoon, partly because he's still annoyed, but it's soon overtaken by the side of him that's actually pretty touched by the wordless apology. ]

So. I received your s'more.

[ And damn delicious it was too. He lifts an eyebrow. ]

Thank you.

[He wasn't sure if he'd hear from him at all, but he'd done what his conscious told him to do. He's dealt with enough brats to also know when he was being one.

A little bit.]

Did you remember to warm it up? Tell me you remembered to warm it up. They lose their charm cold.

Yes, Merlin, I remembered to warm it up.

[ But his exasperation isn't annoyed - it seems a little more like his usual teasing fondness. But just a little. ]

I thought you'd polished them off by the campfire.

Nah. I was gonna give you just enough time to wish you had another one before surprising you with it.

Did you save the tinfoil?

[Because he was serious about the tinfoil thing.]

Well maybe next time--

[ But he catches himself before he goes there. There's no point in dragging that up in the first place, but more importantly, who said there's be a 'next time'? ]

... Yes. Why on earth did you ask me to save it, anyway? Building hats to keep the aliens away?

Not aliens. Birds.

Why don't you like birds?

They talk too much. Plus they steal things. This bird flew into my grandfather's shop one time? And later he was missing a Canopic jar.

Well maybe he shouldn't have stolen it from the owner's tomb. Shady business, the old antiques trade.

[ He should know. The Pendragon estate is a few Canopic jars away from being a museum itself. ]

It was a cookie jar! Strictly decorative. But it had a bird's head on it and I guess the crook thought it held the remains of one of its own.

Right. Anyway, I'll make sure your precious bird-repelling tinfoil gets back to you later today.

My guitar and favorite hoodie thank you.

Don't be ridiculous, Merlin. A bird couldn't steal a guitar.

A flock could. And birds of a feather flock together.

I had no idea you were so paranoid.

[ But oh my god he's done with this bird-talk, it's making him want to giggle. ]

So you play the guitar. How long?