PAT2011 – 08 Lancelot x Driver by Caitlin

Pair-A-Thon 2011 Entry

Perfect Night
by ~Caitlin

It was, without a single doubt, the best night of Lancelot’s life. Perhaps even the best day, since he had reached a major breakthrough in his latest project involving blackberries, but even that paled in comparison to the moment when Driver agreed to go out with him to the grand opening of a fancy French restaurant

It didn’t matter that she only agreed because Wiglaf and Mordred were planning on going there, and that she simply wanted a good chance to spy on them and eat a free meal.

It didn’t matter that she refused to let him pull out her chair for her.

It didn’t matter that she kept looking to her left, where Wiglaf and Mordred seemed to be doing their best impression of an old married couple.

It didn’t matter that the waiter messed up their first course, and completely forgot about the complimentary bread sticks.

It didn’t matter that, in a bout of overzealous storytelling, Lancelot knocked over his wine glass, spilling the liquid all over his cuff.

It didn’t matter that when she glanced up to keep an eye on Mordred, she freaked out when she saw he wasn’t at the table with Wiglaf anymore, and it took Lancelot nearly five minutes to convince her to sit down and stay calm and that Wiglaf would have followed him if he was leaving or doing anything stupid, and by that time Mordred had returned from his trip to the bathroom.

It didn’t matter that the bill was ridiculously expensive.

It didn’t matter that Driver was going to be driving Mordred and Wiglaf home, so Lancelot would be dropped off at his house first and watch as his love drove away.

It didn’t matter, because she actually agreed to go out with him.

It didn’t matter, because she seemed very pleased with the restaurant and its decor.

It didn’t matter, because every time she glanced over to where Mordred sat, she would still return her gaze to Lancelot.

It didn’t matter, because her spirited speech cutting into the fumbling waiter’s ego was adorable to watch, even if he could only understand half of what she was saying.

It didn’t matter, because after he spilled wine on his cuff, she laughed the laugh of angels and dabbed at the spilled wine with her napkin.

It didn’t matter, because after she had calmed down, she thanked him for keeping her from creating a big scene.

It didn’t matter, because when the bill arrived, she smiled as said that, despite all odds, she actually had a good time.

It didn’t matter, because as she drove up to his house, she rolled down the window, thanked him for a good time, and didn’t kick up a fuss when Lancelot placed a gentlemanly kiss to her cheek and whispered a fervent wish that they might do this again sometime.

So he stood there, watching her drive away, revelling in the soft memory of her cheek. He could not feel the chill in the air as he waited until the car was out of sight, and only entered his home because there was nothing else to do. Like a movie in his mind, he replayed the night over and over as he undressed and crawled into bed and thought of his next visit to his Annie.