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It didn't take very long for the trio to make their way back to Jenny's caravan. A little dizzy and shell-shocked, the red-head concentrated on putting one foot in front of the other. Once she stumbled only to be caught by Lancelot's hand under her arm, and when he showed no sign of removing it, she let him guide her a little. The air was heavy with smoke which stung her sore throat and made the surroundings blurry, and with unusual docility Jenny let herself be comforted by the warm solidity of the man beside her, waiting while he unlocked her home and ushered both she and Lucan inside.

Wriggling out of her coat, she sank into one of the hard plastic chairs by the kitchen table. Half her hair was escaping from the elastic band she'd shoved it back with and now flopped lank and smelling like a bonfire over her face. Feeling grimy, more than a little crispy around the edges and thoroughly unattractive, Jenny gave a half hearted wish for a huge bathtub filled with scented water before acknowledging that she was so tired that she'd probably fall asleep in it and drown if she actually had one. Perhaps she should just go and stand in front of the cattle shed and let herself get sluiced down along with the cobblestones in the morning.

"Here." A glass of cold water was placed on the table next to her, and Jenny sipped it gratefully, closing her eyes as it slid down, soothing her parched throat. "Sasha gave me some painkillers for you if you need them," Lancelot said, sitting down so close that his knees almost touched hers. "Is your head hurting you?"

Jenny shook her head slightly. The ache was dull and low; she had a feeling that if she needed medication it would be the next morning when whatever the nurse had given her in the hospital had worn off. Rubbing a hand over her mouth, she gave Lancelot a rueful smile. "This wasn't quite the evening I had in mind."

He laughed and reached over, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear, his dark eyes softened with more tenderness than she would have given him credit for.

"You promised fireworks and you didn't disappoint."

The brief brush of his fingers against her cheek made Jenny swallow hard and hope that he hadn't noticed the involuntary shiver that had nothing to do with the cool of the evening. Deciding to focus on her grubby hands clasped in her lap, she couldn't help smiling at his next words.

"It's traditional to burn a Guy on bonfire night though. If I thought you were going to offer to do your own tribute to The Wicker Man I'd have talked you out of it. There are a few people I wouldn't mind seeing barbecued but you aren't on the list."

She shrugged. "To be honest it wasn't really on my to-do list either."

Lucan trotted into the kitchen with a damp cloth, a comb and a thoughtful, if not particularly practical bottle of shampoo.

"You're all sooty," he said solemnly, glaring at Lancelot and dabbing at her face in a propitiatory fashion. Jenny ducked back when he got a little to enthusiastic and nearly took her eye out, but let him finish wiping her cheeks before pulling the boy onto her lap. Lucan's false bravado didn't fool her – she saw the worry in his blue eyes and imagined the fear he must have felt at the prospect of losing his guardian so soon after losing his parents.

"I'm sorry, sweetheart,"she whispered against his blond curls. "I didn't mean to scare you."

" I wasn't scared," Lucan retorted indignantly and wholly unconvincingly.

"You did really well getting those kids out of harms way," Lancelot said trying to take the boy's mind off the what-could-have-beens that were no doubt running through his mind. "You'll make a really good soldier one day."

Lucan smiled. "Yeah, that's what Dagonet says." He wriggled off Jenny's lap and re-tousled his hair where she had smoothed it down. "He says you're pretty good at fighting too, even if Bors calls you a "pretty boy"."

Jenny stifled a laugh and Lancelot rolled his eyes. "Yeah, well Bors is full of..." He caught the look Jenny gave him and quickly amended his reply. "Bors doesn't always speak without thinking first."

Lucan shrugged. "Galahad says more rubbish comes out of his mouth than out of his arse. I like him though – he says he reminds me of his kid Gilly."

"Yeah, Bors is alright. Just maybe don't repeat some of the words he comes out with, okay?" Lancelot glanced over at Jenny who didn't dare meet his eyes.

"Alright."

Stifling a yawn, Jenny was quite happy to let Gilly make up a spare bed of sorts on the couch for Lancelot. There wasn't much room for him, but he refused her half-hearted protestations that she and Gilly would be alright for the night.

"I promised Sasha that I'd keep an eye on you overnight. If anything happens then it's on me," was his adamant and inarguable protest. Jenny didn't have much to counter that – he'd got her out of the hospital ward and back home; if he was willing to sleep on her little couch then she was inclined to let him. In truth the idea of him sleeping only a few yards away gave her a warm feeling of comfort that she wasn't quite sure how to explain. Wearily slipping out of her grubby clothes and into an oversized t-shirt and shorts, she snuggled underneath the duvet and barely noticed when Lucan curled up next to her.

The next morning marked the start of a new routine for Jenny, Lancelot and Lucan. Waking to the aroma of toast and instant coffee, Jenny dragged herself out of bed and watched with amusement through the crack of the bedroom door as both Lancelot and Lucan attempted to make breakfast without disturbing her. Lancelot's muffled curse as he fished the bread out from beneath the grill and shook his fingers to cool them off was met with a glare by the young boy, and when Lucan tripped over the edge of the linoleum, Lancelot caught him by the scruff of the neck, sending them both into hurriedly silenced giggles.

Jenny took the few minutes of privacy to dress and attempt to do something with her hair, which unruly at the best of times had not responded well to almost being flash fried. When she emerged from the bedroom she exclaimed with genuine pleasure and did her best to look surprised at the modest feast. The warm glow at seeing the young blond boy and the handsome brunet man look relieved at her pleasure, however was entirely unfeigned.

From that day on it became a sort of unacknowledged rule that Lancelot would come for breakfast. Sometimes he would arrive with a half dozen eggs from Alice, who with Gawain's help had converted one of the ruined out-buildings into a run for the forty or so hens and counting that had been rescued from the nearby villages. Sometimes Lucan, fresh from scouting with Tristan would bring home a bag full of field mushrooms, or Jenny would be given a bag of potatoes for hash browns or some tins of baked beans in return for mending one of the refugee's flashlights or generators. Most of the time however it didn't really matter what they ate. As the days went by it became a comfortable routine where the conversation flowed easily, and despite the continual turmoil outside for an hour or so there was nothing but laughter and friendship in the little caravan.

Of course things were somewhat different when Lucan was not around.

Careful by nature and not willing to make things awkward for Lucan by rushing into a relationship too fast, Jenny made it clear that although she liked Lancelot and enjoyed his company, she was not going to jump into bed with him until they had gotten to know each other a little more. True they had shared a few, frankly breathtaking kisses, and certainly although she tried to elevate her thoughts above mindless lust, it was a bit difficult not to acknowledge that Lancelot had a world class bum when he bent down to put the dishes in the sink, and while she was interested in his opinions and surprisingly funny stories, it was hard not to wonder if that peat soft voice of his was also part of what kept her spell-bound.

For his part, Lancelot , although behaving like the perfect gentleman had given signs that while he was willing to wait, he certainly wasn't immune to her charms as a woman. There were a few too many moments that his eyes dropped to her cleavage when her shirt was unbuttoned a little to far (and not entirely by accident), and when she'd accidentally dropped half a plate of chilli onto his lap, the evidence she'd felt as she tried to mop him up before her hand was pushed away certainly left no room for doubt that he wanted her.

But she had been the one who had asked to take things slow, so it fell to her to take the relationship up a notch. Jenny frowned. In a romantic comedy she should send Lucan off to stay with one of his friends and open the door to Lancelot in nothing but sexy lingerie. Thinking of the greying bras and knickers in the drawer, she nixed that idea. She'd look more Victoria Wood than Victoria's Secret trying to play the vamp. Cooking a seductive meal wasn't really on the cards either – it wasn't like she could pop down Marks and Spencers and serve up a delicious meal while hiding the wrappers and pretending that she had cooked things herself. Glancing at the cupboard Jenny was pretty sure that the most exotic thing that resided in it was a tin of Spam of dubious vintage. Racking her brains for inspiration the idea came as a bolt from the blue. It was a little bold, but hopefully not too brazen. All she had to do was talk Burgess, who owed her anyway, into doing her a favour.

It didn't take much in the way of persuasion to get Lancelot to come to dinner, nor for Lucan to find something else to do for the evening. Dropping in on the Barracks where the Samartian lived, Jenny followed the excited chatter coming from down the hall when she found his room empty. Trying not to giggle, she watched as Alice bossed both Galahad and Gawain into holding a vast swathe of silk while she pinned it around an uncomfortable looking Kate. As a wedding dress it would probably end up looking rather lovely, but Jenny had the sneaking suspicion that Tristan's increasing scouting trips were more to do with his bride's maid of honour's enthusiasm than any actual need for patrol.

"There." The brunette looked at her creation proudly. "Now Lancelot," she said to the slightly panicked looking Samartian holding an armful of gauzy material. "I just need you to.."

"Actually," Jenny interrupted, "I'm really sorry but can I borrow Lancelot for a moment? It's important."

Lancelot gave her a look of such gratefulness that Jenny's had to struggle not to laugh.

"Are you sure?" Alice looked rather disappointed. "I was going to get him to help model the veil for Kate."

"I'm sure," Jenny said firmly, trying to ignore the other two men who were looking at her with the sort of tragically imploring looks usually made by puppies on RSPCA posters.

"Thanks," Lancelot said with a deep and heart-felt sigh as soon as they were clear of the barracks. "I was about two minutes from having my manliness raped by diamante in there."

"I don't know." Jenny pretended to consider the thought. "You could have pretended to be one of those sparkly vampires from that book series. Girls went nuts for them."

Lancelot suppressed a shudder. "You aren't helping. Anyway," he looked at the woman beside him curiously. "Not that I'm not grateful for the get out of wedding hell ticket, but you said you needed me for something important."

"I did." Fishing her keys out of her pocket, Jenny bounded up the steps to her caravan and unlocked the door. "I've got you a job and a present."

Intrigued, Lancelot followed her inside closing the door behind him. Catching the little parcel that Jenny tossed to him it took a moment for him to work out what it was.

The deadbolt was still in its plastic packaging, the screws to fix it onto the bedroom door attached in its own little bag. Jenny had fashioned a bow out of a bit of faded pink ribbon and stuck it on top if the cardboard backing. The final effect was possibly the strangest, ugliest gift that Lancelot had ever received, but glancing up at Jenny to make sure that he was reading the meaning of it correctly and catching the sparkle in her brown eyes, by far the most romantic.

"I thought I'd be a bit forward," she said, taking it from him once he'd slid the ribbon out of the bow. "It's to go on the bedroom door... For you know... When maybe we didn't need Lucan joining in without warning." Jenny was blushing so hard that Lancelot was tempted to ask her if she wanted to take her cardigan off, but that in turn led to thoughts of what was under the cardigan, and forcing down questions about just how down the blush went, he gave a smile.

"It's probably the best present I've ever had," he said slowly. "But where on earth did you get it?"

"Burgess gave it to me." The answer was innocent enough, but Jenny didn't quite meet his eyes.

"Burgess?" Lancelot thought about the friendly but not exactly tactful man in charge of the camp's artillery. "Perhaps he's mellowing with age. Did you tell him it was for Lucan's..."

"I pretended it was for Lucan, he pretended to listen and told me that you needed a good shag and quite a lot more about a weekend he and his ex-boyfriend spent in a caravan than I needed to know," Jenny interrupted before he could finish. Tucking her arms under her breasts she wished that they had had this conversation outside. Even if she discarded the cardigan (which would look a bit like a blatant come-on – and how silly was that? She'd just handed Lancelot a lock. A sex-lock. Like a chastity belt in reverse for the caravan. Oh God, she should just not think. This whole thing had sounded a lot less embarrassing in her head.) her cheeks would still be flushed and Lancelot would still be leaning against the door with his dark eyes narrowed and his mouth curved in a slight smile. It was bloody cheating, she thought indignantly. Just because he had the ability to make her throw all attempts at playing it cool out the window shouldn't mean that he could just stand there seemingly unaffected. This was amusing to him. This was a mistake. A terrible mistake. She was going to be yet another notch on his bedpost, and it wasn't like she could avoid him afterwards... Perhaps they should have just kept being friends. Her heart started racing. Oh God, what would her mum have said?

Lancelot read the change in her expression and pushed himself away from the wall. There was something hard to read – perhaps panic or regret in his expression as he stood aside, giving her access to the door, but Jenny paused rather than bolting outside.

"Jenny..."

"Lancelot..."

They both spoke at the same time, and with a half laugh, Lancelot rubbed a hand through his dark curls. "You first."

Ok... Jenny's mind chose that moment to go entirely blank. There really was no actual way to say "please don't break my heart" to someone that you hadn't even gone to bed with though was there? "What are you thinking?" she asked eventually.

"I'm fucking terrified," he answered almost immediately. When Jenny looked lost for words, he took a couple of steps over to the bed and sat down with a wince. "Sorry, I'm pretty embarrassed already, I'm really not ready for you having to actually have to drag me out of here if my leg gives out."

"There's an emergency exit next to the bathroom," Jenny said numbly. "It's not that far. I shouldn't have pushed. If you give me a minute I'll find someone to help you back to the barracks."

"What?" Lancelot looked at Jenny in confusion. The blush that had coloured her cheeks had fled and her skin was now so pale that it highlighted how grubby the white walls of the small room had become. Mentally re-running his last words through his mind he would have kicked himself if he had been in possession of two fully functioning lower limbs. Instead he dropped his head into his hands and gave Jenny a side-ways look. "Well that came out wrong," he said eventually.

"Which bit?" The red-head had retreated to the corner of the bedroom rather than racing towards the door which was vaguely encouraging, Lancelot thought. The look of bewildered hurt in her eyes made him want to offer her some sort of rusty but sharp implement with which to wound him in return, however. Glancing at the stained carpet, he wondered if someone had done the same thing to someone else there in the past.

"The.." Fuck-it, might as well be honest and risk her ridicule or pity. The truth may or may not set him free but trying to save face wasn't really an option any more. "You're beautiful, Jenny," he said quietly. "You're strong, brave, warm... Lucan's told me about the other men at the camp after you – better men than me. That.." He nodded at the lock that lay half unwrapped and discarded on the bedroom table. "That's more than an opportunity for sex to me. It's your choice what you do with it, but if you ask me to put it up then it's "our" lock."

For a long time Jenny didn't say anything. Her eyes, usually a warm walnut brown seemed almost obsidian as she studied him. Too drained to do much but sit and wait for her verdict, Lancelot tried to tamp down the spark of hope that flared when she crossed the short distance between them and sat down on the bed. She didn't say anything for a long while, but her plump bottom lip was trapped between her front teeth and her brow was furrowed. If he hadn't felt as though both Bors and Dagonet were sitting on his chest and Tristan had cut his vocal cords, Lancelot would have teased her about looking like she was studying for a maths test.

"You can be the one to ask Burgess for a screw-driver," she said eventually. "He's already laughed at me once, it's your turn."

Lancelot kept his face studiedly calm, but his cheeks ached from trying to suppress a smile. "He'll laugh at you the next time he sees you anyway."

"True." Jenny's hand crept into his, and Lancelot squeezed it gently. "Maybe we should give them something more interesting to talk about."

"Oh I'm all for that." Dropping her hand, he cupped the back of her head, kissing first her top lip before licking the bottom and smiling as she opened her mouth to him. Heady from the sweetness of her taste and the softness of her breasts pressing against his chest, it took a moment for him to register that they weren't alone and that Jenny was wriggling away.

"Get a room." Lucan's blue eyes regarded them disapprovingly from the doorway, but before either of the adults had time to form a retort the boy had wandered off to the kitchen and set about ransacking the fridge.

"Tomorrow," Lancelot swore to a giggling Jenny who had flopped back onto the bed. "I'm putting the lock up first thing tomorrow."

"The best things come to those who wait." Jenny raised herself up on to her elbows, and gave a smile that promised a whole lot of things that certain parts of Lancelot's anatomy were rather keen on trying out right now thank-you very much.

"You and him are going to kill me," Lancelot said resignedly. "I survived the war and the virus and I'm going to die right here in this caravan."

"I said that you could leave if you wanted," Jenny pointed out.

"Yeah. Well. My room at the barracks is really far away and I have a bad leg."

"You do," she agreed. "You probably shouldn't walk too far."

"Might as well stay here then."

"Yeah." Jenny's tone might have been playful, but when he took her hand and placed it upon his heart, her eyes were warm. "Why go all the way over there when you've already got a home here?"

"Can't think of any reason at all." Pulling her against him, Lancelot kissed the top of Jenny's head and listened as Lucan dropped something with a clatter in the kitchen. Funny, he mused, he'd never thought that peace would be quite so noisy.

A/N:

Victoria Wood for those who don't know her is a very funny British comedian who usually plays quite frumpy characters. She's awesome in "Acorn Antiques" - a spoof soap opera.

Well this chapter was pretty much entirely talk – sorry about that. In my defence when it comes to action I don't think there's much of the camp left for me to blow up! There won't be any more updates on this for the foreseeable future unless somewhere down the line an idea grabs me. If anyone wants to play in the "Chosen" AU then they are welcome to do so. Thanks everyone who read it and whose feedback made the AU so much fun to write x.