Sinking against the smooth porcelain, Gwen let the near-scalding water cocoon her. She flexed her toes against the rounded edge of the tub, coils of warmth blooming under her skin where it met the cool air just above the surface.

She closed her eyes, the light that played over her eyelids from the shifting trees outside transporting her to long ago.

In the afternoon, early enough that nothing was pressing but late enough that the sun was sinking in the window frame, they would huddle in Arthur's small bed, a blanket pulled up over their heads, breathing the same air.

From the first she'd met Arthur, Gwen had always loved to look at him. There were plenty of boys to look at, it was true, but there was something about Arthur in particular that had always captivated her.

Maybe it was how he held himself with such confidence, it had impressed her even back when he was several inches shorter than her. He always seemed so sure of things, brave enough to challenge anyone.

But she knew she liked the way his fair skin looked against the soft brown of her own, and how his hair was so light and radiant, it seemed to capture a tiny bit of the sun. She liked how his lips had a perpetual pout to them, though she couldn't have said why.

And then there was the way his blue, blue eyes could be light and open, full of wonder, or dark with a temper when things weren't going his way.

She hadn't realized her admiration for such things until after they were long gone from her life, eclipsed by a fathomless grief that was scarring to a girl entering womanhood.

But things had been simpler once. They used to exchange whispers and nervous giggles as they listened to his father shouting at someone on the telephone downstairs, pretending they were just a couple of mice hiding from a big, angry giant.

And Arthur had a picture he kept, hidden from the world; hidden from his father, who would doubtless be furious to see it in his possession; hidden from the maid who might have thought it misplaced and taken it upon herself to store away for safekeeping; secreted behind the loose baseboard next to his bed.

On those afternoons when they were sleepy after football practice and a bath, he fished it out and let Gwen hold it.

He let her trace the features of the lovely woman in the photo who seemed as happy as a person could be; whose fair hair and pink skin and laughing blue eyes matched Arthur's so perfectly.

Arthur watched as Gwen examined the photo; as she stroked the edges softly, wondering what the woman would have been like. Sometimes he bent his head with hers so that he could see it too, though even then she suspected it was probably so deeply imprinted on his mind, he needn't have opened his eyes to see it.

When they finished, Arthur would tuck it carefully away in the woodwork and they would drift back to sleep, hand in hand, Gwen's frizzy curls occasionally tickling Arthur's face, but he didn't seem to mind.

I didn't come here for this.

It was the heavy-hearted thought that woke her to the present like a whisper in her ear, and not the first of its kind she'd deluded herself into ignoring.

But you found something, didn't you? The same voice within countered, and she blinked just as a soft knock came against the bathroom door, her name muffled from the lips of the boy in her daydreams.

Arthur emerged from behind the door, six feet tall with a head and heart full of ideas and experiences she yearned to learn more of.

He gave her a smile of comfort and promise, and however weary she was, it kindled a strength in her.

"Feeling better?"

She nodded, lifting her chin out of the water.

"Well, um, my mates are playing footy in the park. I'll stay here with you if you prefer. What do you reckon?"

She sat up, water sloshing around her lap and racing in droplets over her collarbone and between the valley of her breasts.

"Let's go," she said with a hint of a smile.

"Ohhh, look who decided to show up!" Gwen heard the shout as they approached the park and recognized one of the men she'd seen the day she met Arthur again.

Several heads turned their way and the rowdy bunch shouted and hooted at his arrival, ragging on him for being late.

"We've been here nearly a half-hour, Pendragon!" another man lamented, "Where've you been?"

Arthur gave an uncomfortable laugh and shrugged, moving forward to take the ball from his friend.

Unsure of how she would be received, Gwen lingered on the outskirts of the group. Should she wait for Arthur to introduce her?

"Hey, who's the bird?" someone asked, and Gwen's face heated as she felt nearly a dozen sets of eyes on her, Arthur's included.

He frowned in confusion until he realized who they were referring to, and then immediately tracked his way back to her, wrapping an arm around her waist to usher her forward.

"Guys, this is Gwen. I think some of you might remember–"

"Bloody hell, that's you Gwen?" one man exclaimed; another gasped, and she thought she may have heard "Curly" spoken under someone's breath.

She finally looked around at them, studying their faces to determine if she recognized anyone. They in turn examined her, a few of them a little too appreciatively.

There was no shock or pity reflected in their expressions, as she had anticipated, but intrigue and excitement.

Percival she recognized almost instantly, partially from his yearbook photos but mostly due to his stature, which was even more impressive in person. He'd been bigger than most of the boys as a child, but as a fully grown man he was formidable. She glimpsed a gentleness in his eyes, though, that led her to believe there was a great deal to uncover.

Her heart warmed to see Leon, despite her embarrassment at the night before. Still, he nodded to her with a reassuring smile that said everything. It was understood.

She wondered briefly what his mother and Uther made of the situation, and then realized a little numbly that she didn't particularly care. As kind as the old man had been, it was difficult to shake the luke warm feelings she had toward him, whether it was the remnant of a childhood scolding or her mother's prejudice impressed on her.

A few of the other men looked vaguely familiar, but she couldn't have said if they were boys from the team or if they simply had common features.

Her gaze panned to the striking Irishman who'd berated Arthur upon their arrival. He had neither Leon's height nor Percival's build to contend with, yet she sensed his charisma even as he stood unspeaking, a mischievous twinkle in his soft brown eyes and a blatantly appraising smirk.

She narrowed and averted her own eyes, knowing his game immediately, but she couldn't help the smile that twitched at her lips for how obvious he was. Men like that, she knew very well, were dangerous. They wore their charm and sexuality like a badge of honor.

Nothing she couldn't handle, of course.

"Alright," Arthur's chuckle came again, but there was no mistaking the authority in his tone. "That's enough, lads, go easy on her," his hand came around her waist again and he pulled her very slightly closer.

"Guinevere, this is Brian, Rob, Percy, Leon, Graeme, Will, Charlie, and Gwaine. You'll probably recognize a few of them."

"Hiya," she said to each of them as they greeted her. When Arthur's introductions were through, one of the men–Will, she thought–asked: "So, can she play?"

"Mate, you have no idea," Leon surprised her, speaking up. Gwen blushed, then allowed herself a proud grin.

The division of teams was accomplished quickly by a ritual Gwen was unfamiliar with, and the men soon broke apart to take their positions on the field: Gwaine, Rob, Leon, Brian, and Charlie on one team, and Arthur, Graeme, Will, Percy, and herself on the other.

Arthur held back before they parted, dipping his head so his lips brushed her ear.

"Let's show them what you can do," he whispered, sending a flicker of heat searing a path from her belly to her groin.

Was it possible, she wondered, to want someone so badly and so often?

For a moment she wished she had him alone and preferably unclothed. The more rational side of her brain reminded her that there was time enough for that later, although his tone suggested he probably wouldn't be opposed to it.

She caught Gwaine's eye over Arthur's shoulder as he stretched nearby, a knowing smirk on his lips. He inclined his head and gave her a wink before jogging down the field to join the others.

As Arthur pulled away she was rewarded with a dazzling smile just for her, and her heart seemed to skip a beat.

She felt the sudden compulsion to say words she hadn't fully thought through, but bit them back and cast them from her mind along with the other worries that had been plaguing her.

She had a game to play.

In a half hour she managed to score two points against the opposing team, Percy having deflected all attempts on their own goal. Her popularity seemed to be growing exponentially by the minute.

As expected, Gwaine flirted openly with her, dancing around her as she crossed the field and doing everything in his power to distract her. He even whipped his shirt off just before she scored the first goal, but she just laughed as he waggled his eyebrows at her.

Though they had little contact, she felt Arthur's eyes on her more than once and had to fight back the inevitable fog of inappropriate thoughts to stay focused.

"This seems unfair," Leon protested after Gwen's second goal. "We're not evenly matched. Arthur, you should switch teams."

The men snickered, but Gwen bit her lip to keep from joining them. It felt good knowing she was still at the top, even after being out of practice for so long.

"Well, if you don't think you can take her," Arthur reasoned with a mischievous grin, "I'd be happy to."

Gwen hoped the glare she shot him was enough to disguise the unexpected arousal she felt at his smugness (or perhaps his proximity) as he arranged himself to guard her. She made herself as tall as she could to face him.

"I dare you to try."

Cheers and whoops erupted around them and suddenly the game was on again.

Arthur didn't go easy on her, proving himself as fierce a competitor as he'd ever been and nicking the ball from her on three occasions, but never for long. She'd always been quicker.

The men became increasingly reckless with each other, taking tumbles left and right.

After her third goal and a very close miss by Arthur caused a collision with he and Will, they decided to take a break.

Gwen stretched, adjusting her socks and taking a thirsty pull from the bottle Graeme had offered her. As he tied his shoes, she steadfastly ignored the weight of his poorly disguised sidelong glance until it became unbearable.

"What is it?"

"Ah, nothing," he said quickly, then seemed to reconsider as she waited. "I'm not sure if you remember, but I knocked you over once."

She nearly choked on the water she was drinking, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. "What?"

Wincing, Graeme gave his beard a thoughtful rub. "It was back when you first joined the team, and we–a few of the lads weren't too chuffed about it."

With a snort, she recapped the bottle and passed it back to him. "Don't worry yourself about it."

His expression remained serious. "It was a nasty hit, and I'm sorry for it," he said. "For what it's worth, Arthur gave me hell after you left that day."

"It's the past, isn't it?" she offered a smile, but it must have been more of a grimace as the sunlight glared across her face.

"Aye, I guess it is," he conceded bashfully. "I was sorry about your Da, too. He helped my family when we had a break-in. Didn't even charge us."

Her mouth formed a silent 'o' as his words surprised her again, and she looked away as moisture stung at her eyes.

"Thank you," she said simply, clearing her throat before it closed up on her. "Er...Will's got a weak ankle, hasn't he?"

He chuckled, agreeing, and they exchanged small talk and advice about their strategy until she finally felt like she'd caught her breath.

That was, until she shaded her eyes to peer across the field.

Arthur stood in conversation with two men and what appeared to be one of their girlfriends, though Gwen hadn't seen her arrive. He threw his head back as he laughed with delightful abandon.

It was a welcome sight until unbidden, she was struck with the image of him between her thighs, pupils blown black and a slight sheen to his lips from her moisture. His breath, coming in hot pants against her as his lips and tongue conducted their hungry exploration; her fingers tangled into his hair and tugging, and her nails digging lightly into his scalp.

She decided then that it was quite rude of him to evoke such lust from her in public.

The rapidly growing tenderness she was almost prepared to acknowledge. The lust, however, was getting to be somewhat inconvenient.

Folding her shirt up to her sports bra to allow the light breeze to fan over her abdomen, she realized she'd been guilty of allowing her gaze to linger just below his waistline as he ran. A wave of heat pulsed through her body, which she might have attributed to exercise, except for how it seemed to settle, hot and cold, between her legs.

Most inconvenient, indeed.

Perhaps it was inevitable that Gwen scored the winning goal. Arthur's team had rallied after the short interval to manage one point as the ball glanced off Rob's boot, but in the end they were defeated.

She was ecstatic moving among her teammates as they congratulated each other, searching until she found who she was looking for.

Loser or not, his broad smile matched hers, and she sprinted toward him and jumped to straddle his waist.

He beamed up at her, strong hands supporting her while she looped her arms around his neck. There were more whistles and crass comments from the men but neither could be bothered to listen; Gwen covered Arthur's mouth with hers and kissed him soundly, her hands cradling his head, hair slightly matted with sweat.

When their lips parted they laughed, high on endorphins and perhaps something else as they gazed at each other. Gwen nuzzled her nose against Arthur's and pecked his lips a few more times before she slid back down to her tiptoes, resting her palms against his chest. As they began to take notice of the small crowd around them, she tucked her face shyly against Arthur's shirt. His heart thumped steadily beneath her ear, and a hand stroked her hair, which had come loose from her long ponytail.

"Well now, where's my congratulations?" Gwaine grinned to another round of laughter and not a few rolling eyes. Arthur flipped his middle finger at him and Gwaine blew him a kiss in return.

"Good match, lads. To The Bell?"

"We'll um, meet you there," Arthur said quickly.

It didn't help with the teasing.

"Yeah, yeah. Come up for air, will you?" Percival joked, clapping Arthur on the back as the men filed off the field and collected their things. "Great game, Gwen."

When it was just the two of them, Gwen laced her fingers with Arthur's and looked up at him, arching a brow in a silent question.

"Oh please, I could feel you stripping me with your eyes the whole time," he said.

Her jaw fell. "Like you're any better!"

"Never said I was," he winked as they retrieved their things, but then he frowned. "Although, I'm afraid I might not have been the only one."

Gwen sighed. "Bloody men. I could have dressed like a nun and it wouldn't have helped. Don't you have any friends that are women?"

His expression became dreamy and distant.

"Arthur?"

"What? Sorry. Still trying to imagine you dressed like a nun."

She shoved him sideways and he was tired enough to stumble, laughing.

"Well, do you?"

"A few, but none that play. That was Elena who stopped by earlier. The others come to the pub now and then."

"Tonight?"

"Mmm, maybe. Never know who's going to show up. Why, too much testosterone for you?"

"More like not enough estrogen for the rest of the men. I'm fine with a little attention but somehow I feel like the shiny new toy."

"Gwaine has a tendency to do that around anything with legs. I'm not kidding; he's an insufferable flirt with women and men. Dogs seem to like him too, come to think of it," he tilted his head as the thought troubled him, then shook it. "We're mates though; he's just taking the mickey. If you're uncomfortable I'll–"

"No," she snorted, "if that made me uncomfortable I'd have a hard time getting by in this world."

Arthur nodded somberly, lost in thought.

They enjoyed the rest of the walk in silence. Holding the door open for her when they reached his flat, she dropped her bag in the entryway, stripping off her damp clothes with him close behind.

In the bathroom, Arthur removed his shirt and bent to turn on the water, testing the temperature with his hand.

"If I haven't mentioned it yet," Gwen said from behind him where she was pulling off her undergarments, "you have an incredible arse."

He chuckled, turning around and glancing over her naked form. "Why, thank you. I'll make sure to add that to my CV."

Gathering her to him, he tried to kiss her but she pulled away to help him shed the rest of his clothes.

"For the record..." he started softly when they were standing together under the water, but he didn't bother to finish as his hands caressed her with a gentleness that made her heart ache sweetly.

A/N: I've written the end to this story but there are a couple more stops along the way. Don't worry, you'll find out what happened to her father.

(And yes, I promise I am working on That Other Fic That Desperately Needs To Be Updated, and I very much appreciate your kind words of encouragement.)