Arthur Pendragon had just had the worst morning ever. His manservant Merlin had brought him cold breakfast ten minutes late, again, his adopted sister Morgana was being even more annoying than usual and he'd embarrassed himself at Knight's training by tripping over a fellow Knight's lance.

Because of all this, Arthur was in an extremely tetchy mood as his manservant Merlin came in with some freshly washed clothes, whistling an annoyingly catchy tune. Arthur groaned and blocked his ears as Merlin set the washing down on the bed and collected up the dirty armour left from training, apparently completely oblivious to his master's anger.

It was too much. Arthur unblocked his ears, glared at Merlin and yelled, "Will you shut UP?!?"

Merlin gave him a surprised, reproachful glance. "I'm sorry, your Highness," he said in a hurt voice.

Arthur sighed. Now Merlin was making him feel guilty. Great. Just great.

Merlin stopped his whistling and continued bustling around Arthur's chamber. Arthur's mood softened slightly as he watched Merlin place his sword carefully into the scabbard that hung on the chamber wall. At least Merlin treated his gear with some respect.

Just as he thought this Merlin dropped one of helmets with an extremely loud clang. Arthur jumped a foot in the air and glared at his sheepish servant, who picked up the helmet and gave it an anxious glance. Arthur felt his temper rising close to explosive point as he spotted a bad dent in the side of what had been one of his best helmets.

"Merlin," he said in a sinister voice.

"Um…" was all his manservant could say.

Arthur snorted in disgust and rose to stalk out of the room.

"Where are you going?" Merlin asked quickly.

"Out," Arthur said shortly. Merlin, sensibly, did not pursue the subject, and as Arthur stalked out angrily he bent his head to examine the helmet once more.

Arthur didn't really know where he was headed, he just wanted to get as far away from Merlin as possible. His anger wasn't really just because of the helmet, he felt as if an explosion had been building up inside him all morning and was just about at breaking point. He strode through the castle corridors and servants scurried out of his way to bob curtseys and bow by the walls.

He almost walked straight into her, and had to stop himself quickly. She was standing facing away from him, her head tilted to one side, gazing from a window in the passage on to market square. Arthur stared at her for several second, drinking in her strange appearance.

She was small and tanned, with medium-length blonde hair pulled up in a pony tail. She was wearing a purple spaghetti strap singlet-top and skinny blue jeans with flares. To Arthur she seemed practically naked, and he was rather shamefully fascinated.

When she realised he was there, the girl turned. She met his gaze with unwavering blue-grey eyes, she too taking in his appearance, which to her was obviously strange.

His first thought was that she was something of a trollop and had stopped on her way to or from the Knight's quarters. But as she turned to face him he realised that she had what looked like diamonds hanging from her ears. Only someone of nobility could afford such things. And the pendant on a silver chain around her neck looked expensive. But still, her clothes were far too revealing. No lady of the court would dare to wear something like that.

He had just come to the conclusion that she must be from foreign lands when she spoke, and he realised he'd been standing there with his mouth open like a fish. He shut it quickly.

"Hi," she said. "Did you want something?"

Her accent was strange. Foreign, he confirmed.

"Sorry, I've just never seen you around here before," why was he apologizing? He was the Crown Prince for God's sake. He realised suddenly that all his anger had evaporated. He was unsure what to address her as though. She wasn't a lady of the court, and he didn't want to embaress himself by calling her a lady if she was a plain trollop like he'd first thought.

"Would you mind telling me where here is?" the girl asked.

"What do you mean?" Arthur asked rather stupidly. He mentally kicked himself as soon as he said it.

"I mean," the girl said slowly, "where the hell am I?"

He'd never had anyone talk so openly to him before in his life. He stared at her for several more seconds, reeling. Who was she to talk like that to the Crown Prince of Camelot? An exotic princess perhaps?

The girl was waiting for an answer, eyebrows slightly raised. Arthur pulled himself together.

"We're in the Castle," he said, though surely that was obvious.

"Well, I figured that out for myself," the girl said disdainfully. "But which castle, and where is it?"

Was she mad? Arthur though it might be so. She couldn't be so completely lost if she were sane. It wasn't as if Camelot was not distinctive.

"It's just the Castle," he said. "It's the only castle in Camelot after all."

"Camelot?" she gasped. "That's where I am?"

"Er… yes," forgetting himself, Arthur rolled his eyes. "Of course."

"Wow," she murmured, staring at him through new eyes, then turning to stare out of the window once more. "That's amazing."

"Who are you, anyway?" Arthur demanded.

"I'm," she hesitated for a second, before saying, "Buffy. Buffy Summers."

It was a name he'd never heard of before. And, now he thought of it, he'd never heard her accent before, though his father had introduced him to delegates of all Camelot's surrounding countries.

"So what's your name?" the girl asked.

He was shocked again. She didn't know his name? Who was she?

He drew himself to full height. "Arthur Pendragon."

Her eyes widened slightly. "I thought he'd be- older," she muttered to herself. Looking up at Arthur through sweeping lashes she said. "So you're… king?"

"Prince," he corrected her, thoroughly baffled.

"Ah, I see now," she said to herself. "Well, this is a surprise. I wonder… hmm."

Arthur looked out the window, as if to confirm there was something sane in the world. He suddenly heard the sound of running feet and whipped around to see the mysterious, infuriating girl rounding the bend of the corridor ten metres away.

"Get back here NOW!" he roared, and set off at a sprint after her. He didn't really know why he was pursuing her, for some reason he felt that it was important.

Servants stared as he hurtled past, maids whispered behind their hands and giggled. At last, puffed and exhausted, he stopped, realising he was making a fool of himself. After all, he had no way of knowing where she was now. He made his way back to his rooms, red-faced and furious.

Merlin stared as he came in. Arthur saw with amazement that the dented helmet had been fixed and newly oiled, and was hung up on the wall next to the scabbard. All his other gear was in the armoury, of course, but he liked to keep the basics handy.

"Um, what happened to you?" Merlin asked. "You look like you've run a marathon."

He had run quite far in search of the girl, he realised, further than he'd thought. He ignored Merlin and sat down on his bed, panting. He knew one thing for sure, that was not the last time he would see the girl.