Fic: Third Time's the Charm
Title: Third Time’s the Charm
Author:
jelazakazone
Fandom: Merlin
Pairings/characters:Arthur/Merlin
Rating:G
Word Count: about 4.3 K
Warnings: action, fluff and romance
Summary: Arthur is a General. Someone above him decides they need to upgrade their systems stuff and computerize their war games. Arthur can’t figure it out and needs help. In comes Merlin.
Disclaimer: I do not own these characters and am not intending to profit from them
Author’s notes: Thanks to twilighthdfan for beta’ing and for the massive cheerleading effort. I am going to blame her for the length of this even though I had suspicions it would be longer than anything I’d written before. Thanks to lewisian_gneiss for a bit of brainstorming about things like flat names and brit picking and all those beta-y tasks, and to kleinefee92 for last minute SPaG check!
"Where's the target?"
Merlin rounded the corner to discover a tall blond man looking at the walls in complete bewilderment.
"I can't make tactical plans if I don't know where the target is!"
Arthur pressed the heels of his hands into his eyes until stars appeared on the backs of his? eyelids. His frustration with the new program was evident.
“Hey. Come on, friend. That’s enough.”
The low soft voice distracted him from his incipient migraine and Arthur lowered his hands. In front of him was a tall, slim young man with a mop of unruly dark hair and skin so pale it was almost translucent. He wore khakis and a black polo shirt, typical computer geek uniform. There was a thin white cable snaking out of one of his ears too, which Arthur suspected of being attached to an iPhone.
“Do I know you?”
“I’m Merlin.”
“So I don’t know you.”
“No.”
"Yet, you called me friend."
"That was my mistake."
"Yes, I think so."
"Yeah. I'd never have a friend who could be such an ass."
"I'll throw you in jail for that."
"Who do you think you are? The king?"
"No, I'm his son, Arthur.”
At this, Merlin backed down. “I’m sorry sire. I didn’t know.”
Arthur waved his hand vaguely at him. “What are you doing here? This is classified information and you are clearly a civilian.”
Merlin coughed lightly as his cheeks colored. He looked down, momentarily, before raising bright blue eyes. “I, um, wrote the program. I was called in to help you learn how to use it.”
Arthur groaned. “You? You wrote this damnable program? I can’t even begin to understand how to use it and I can’t find the target.” Arthur gestured at some floating icons. “All these things, floating in the air, I can’t remember what any of them are or how they work and,” his voice petered out.
“Perhaps we need to go somewhere less distracting. There’s a cafe across the street. The caffeine might help the migraine you are trying to ward off.”
Arthur gave him a peculiar look, forbore to say anything, and resigned himself to working with Merlin. “Fine. Lead the way.”
Bumping hands and elbows, they walked in silence through the corridors of the industrial building where the War Room had been installed. As Arthur walked through the doors and set foot outside the building, his shoulders lightened, tension melting off.
“I’m sorry I was brusque with you in there. All those flashing lights and little icons and the beeps. It’s total sensory overload. I get a headache in about three minutes. And my father, well, let’s just say he has really high expectations.”
Merlin gave Arthur a sympathetic look and said, “Let’s talk about the issues when we have a nice pastry and tea in front of us, ok?”
They ordered individually and found a table in the shade to sit at.
“You got a Coke? And a doughnut? You are going to get diabetes instantaneously!”
Merlin just gave the commander a look. Arthur realized that Merlin’s health was none of his business and settled in to his Earl Grey tea and buttered scone.
Pastries consumed, blood sugar elevated, Merlin prompted Arthur, “So, what seems to be the problem?”
Arthur opened his mouth to start speaking and closed it. He tried again. He stabbed the air with a finger that was encircled by a broad silver band and still failed to come out with any words. He sighed.
“That bad, eh?”
Arthur rubbed his face, displaying that silver band again, and sighed. “Yeah. That bad.” He slumped a little in his chair. “It’s just that all eyes are on me. I’m supposed to be this up and coming strategist, but I didn’t even use a computer until I got to college and most technology is just mumbo jumbo to me. I barely know how to use a mouse and keyboard and you’ve made this program that wants me to dance like John Travolta to use it.”
Merlin coughed into his hand, doing a poor job at disguising a smile.
“Oh, I know your type. You computer geeks. You’re all the same. You were probably using a computer when you were two and had a port wired into your head when you were 15.”
“Not quite,” Merlin soothed. “I was ten when I got my first computer and they still haven’t figured out how to hook people up to computers, at least, not in that way.”
“All right,” Arthur relented.
“Now, start at the beginning. Tell me what worked and where and when the program went wrong.”
Arthur took in a deep breath and exhaled slowly. “Hm. Right. From the beginning. So, when I walk into the room and it’s completely dark, that part works just fine for me. Then, I say, ‘Leon,’ the whole room comes ablaze and starts flashing at me. At that point, I can’t even sort out what to focus on.”
Merlin nodded, thinking about what Arthur was experiencing. He took out his iPhone and started tapping away at the interface, muttering to himself occasionally. Arthur stretched his neck a little, but was unable to see what the man was doing and was distracted by the thin fingers moving over the phone.
A few more minutes of tapping and murmuring, and Merlin scooted the heavy wrought iron chair around the table, holding the arm in one hand, iPhone in the other. Settled in next to Arthur, he leaned over and held out the device. Arthur peered at it suspiciously, as if it might start flashing like the War Room sim Merlin had created for him.
“What if … I … were to,” Merlin stuck his tongue out a little, thinking, “make it so the icons came up separately, at your command?”
“I don’t understand.”
“What if each icon came up on its own when you told it? What if the room stayed blank and when you said ‘Leon,’ it just made itself ready instead of displaying all the options?”
“Um, that sounds promising. It would spare me the instant migraine, at any rate,” Arthur agreed.
“Great! That’s sorted then. I’ll just be off to the office and I can fix it remotely and you can get back to your strategy.”
Arthur felt his stomach drop a little. He hadn’t realized he’d been enjoying Merlin’s company. He’d thought he was feeling better because he’d left the oppressive War Room where the walls seemed to close in on him with all those icons and things flashing.
“Um, wait! What if something else doesn’t work?” Arthur grasped at the first thing he could think of. He didn’t want lose contact with this man, even if he couldn’t put his finger on why.
Merlin gave him a cheeky smile. “Here’s my mobile number. Call or text me any time.”
For the next few days, nothing in the War Room bothered Arthur; he thought he might be getting the hang of it. He decided to go in that weekend and see how far he could get by himself, with no staff around, or so he told himself.
At first, things went according to plan. Arthur was feeling quite pleased with himself. He had learned about half the icons, he figured, and felt comfortable with them. Now that he had his feet under him, he thought it was time to pull out all the stops. He shut the program down and restarted it with, “Leon.”
The system came up quietly, lights winking where they were supposed to. Arthur knew many of the icons that were showing. He ran through a simple simulation, gaining more confidence as this worked just the way it should.
Never one to do things by half measures, he decided to skip a few levels and go for the massive world war simulation. He set up the troops for the allies and enemies. He got the territories marked out. He thought he set up the munitions and transportation needs properly, which was the final step, but when he poked the floating icon to start the simulation, klaxons started blaring and red lights flashed.
“Abort! Abort!” Arthur yelled the command and hunched down in the fetal position. His head was throbbing; all he could do was breathe. In. Out. In. Out.
Later, he couldn’t say if it was a slight tremor he’d felt or a light puff of air on his face, but something caused him to open his eyes. He was looking at a pair of black Converse high tops. He shifted his eyes to follow loose jeans up to knobby knees where delicious fingers perched. Whose delicious fingers were those? Arthur wracked his brain, trying to part the fog in his mind.
“Arthur?” The soft voice penetrated his wall and he looked up into bright blue eyes.
“Merlin,” he groaned, rubbing his eyes. “What happened? I .. things were going so well and then I set up a full scale war and then there was all this noise and flashing lights and I yelled ‘abort’, but by then, the damage had been done. I’ve got a raging migraine now.”
Merlin sat down nimbly, folding into himself to sit criss cross, knees on top of opposite feet. He placed a warm hand on Arthur’s shoulder.
“Have you got anything for that? Where is it?”
“Um, yeah. In my briefcase. Over there.” Arthur waved in the general direction of the table where he’d left his briefcase when he’d come in.
Merlin disappeared for a minute, then reappeared with a bottle of water and Arthur’s migraine pills.
“Here. Sit up. It will be easier to take the pills if you are sitting.”
He offered the prone man a hand and pulled him up to sitting. Arthur popped the pills and gulped the water. He scrubbed his hands through his hair, trying to pull the pain out through the roots.
“Arthur, what happened?”
Arthur sighed, shrugged his shoulders, and said, “I just don’t know. I thought it was going so well, maybe I got carried away and tried to do more than I should have. But, how did you know that things went so wrong?”
Sheepish, Merlin looked down at the floor before he replied, “Um, I put a command in the program to ping me if the program crashed.”
“Why would you even expect it to crash?”
“When I installed it, it worked perfectly. I never had problems with it, but when one of your staff called me in because you were having problems with the program, I became suspicious. I wanted to believe it was just user error and that was why I changed the initial interface for you, but this clarifies matters. The software has definitely been hacked.”
Arthur wanted to bristle at the suggestion that he was a simple fool, but the idea that it was a hacker caught his attention and he focused on that.
“What? Who would want to do that? Why would anyone want to mess up the software?”
“Well, is there no one who would want to undermine you? No one who wants you to look bad?”
“I mean, I have enemies, sure. Everyone in my position does, but most people aren’t usually driven to do anything.”
Arthur twisted the wide silver band on his finger, looking at nothing. "I guess I'll have to think about it, but no, no one comes to mind," he told Merlin despite a sinking feeling in his stomach.
Merlin stood, unfolding himself smoothly in reverse. Arthur looked up, discovered Merlin's outstretched hand and reached out to take it. He thought he felt a current of electricity pass between them, but dismissed the idea even though his fingertips were tingling slightly as they let go.
"Well, that's sorted then. I think you should leave the program alone for the rest of the weekend and let me see what I can find. You military types don't know how to take a break."
Rising to the challenge, Arthur replied, "Oh yeah? Well, how about we meet at a club some time after you’ve finished fixing the program?”
"Ha. Look. You don't even know the name of a club!"
"But I know that you do. You pick the club. I'll see you there, after you've fixed the program."
"It's a deal. I'll text you later."
"But you don't have my number."
"Good point. Here, give me your phone. It'll be easier that way."
Arthur handed over his Blackberry and watched Merlin's scrumptious fingers do things to the teeny keys, feeling a little jealous of that Blackberry.
Slim fingers handed the mobile back and Arthur brushed Merlin's fingers, curious to see if the electrical impulse would discharge again. He was not disappointed as a tingle ran up his arm and straight to his stomach where it proceed to run laps.
Arthur chuckled. "Okay, I'll await your message and leave my program in good hands," wishing it was himself he was leaving in those hands.
Arthur gathered his briefcase and left, feeling lighter than he had for a long time. The door swung out into pouring rain, but even that couldn't douse the broad smile on his face.
----
To: Wart
From: Wiz
Program sorted. Some idiot inserted a line of code to unleash tigers if certain parameters were met, which you accidentally managed to do. No more tigers in hiding.
Let's meet at The Rising Sun.
Received at 6:38pm
To:Wiz
From:Wart
What sort of name is Wiz? Thanks for sorting the program. Guess it's just my luck that I found your tiger. I have a better idea. Come over to my place. 8pm. 347 Camelot Towers, 22 Albion St.
Received at 6:49pm
To: Wart
From: Wiz
The same sort of name as Wart? Why the change of plans? Are you chickening out?
Received at 6:52pm
To: Wiz
From: Wart
Chicken’s involved, but not of the cowardly variety. You coming?
Received at 6:59pm
To:Wart
From: Wiz
Yes.
Received at 7:03pm
Arthur hummed to himself as he puttered around the kitchen, mouth watering at the aroma of the lemon roasted chicken. He’d turned the radio off after a program talking about Afghanistan came on. He wasn’t in the mood for that kind of news.
The bell startled Arthur out of his reverie. With the news off, he’d lost track of time and was somewhat dismayed to discover that while his dinner was ready, he wasn’t. Tearing his apron off, he bit his bottom lip as he walked to the door to buzz Merlin in.
Opening the door, Arthur saw Merlin, rocking a little, as though he’d just recovered his balance. He was still wearing the trainers and jeans from this morning. Arthur couldn’t remember if he’d been wearing that same t-shirt that morning, but he was happy to see the bottle of white wine in his hands.
“Come in.”
As Merlin walked past, Arthur caught his scent: musky, leathery, but with a hint of something sweet, like blueberries. His head spun for the second time that day. Arthur wiped damp palms on his pants, regaining possession of himself.
Merlin had preceded him into the flat and stood, offering the wine.
“I, uh, had help with the wine. I hope you like it.” Merlin shrugged, as though he were a little embarrassed to admit his ignorance about wine.
“I’m sure it will be fine.” Dazed, Arthur took the wine and led the other man to the galley kitchen. “I made a lemon chicken, green beans with lemon cream sauce, and brown rice and gravy. If you want to sit down at the table over there, dinner can be served in just a minute.”
“How are you going to transport all that food out there without some help? Levitation? Why don’t I take something?”
“Right. Ok. You can take the chicken and,” Arthur looked around, “um, the green beans.” He handed Merlin the plates with chicken and green beans and put the rest of the food on a tray. They bumped into each other on the way to the table, unaccustomed to each other’s rhythms and Arthur felt that jolting tingle again, this time starting at his shoulder and traveling down to flutter in his stomach.
As Arthur sat, he realized he’d forgotten the wine glasses. His heart sank. He was sure he was not making a good impression, although why he cared, he wasn’t quite sure.
“Be right back. I forgot the wine glasses.”
As he turned in his seat to leave, he felt a hand cover his own. Looking back, he realized that Merlin had put a hand over his. He looked up into Merlin’s face, and lost himself for a moment, gazing into the pool of blue.
“Really, Arthur, these glasses are just fine. I don’t know anything about wine and I’m hungry and I’m sure you are too. Let’s just eat this fine meal and enjoy each other’s company. You’ve clearly worked hard. It’s time to relax.”
Arthur let out a breath he hadn’t known he’d been holding. “Thank you, Merlin. Yes, let’s eat.”
Merlin withdrew his hand and Arthur felt the loss more keenly than one should of a mere hand touching another hand. Given a taste, he wanted more. He wanted it all.
They talked, although Arthur couldn’t recall later any of the conversation, he just knew he didn’t want to part company.
“I, um, didn’t make any dessert, but I’ve got some tea. Would you like to stay for a cup?”
Merlin shrugged. “Sure. Here, let me help you get these dishes cleared up. Dinner was really good. Thanks.”
Arthur grinned, feeling warmed from head to toe. “See, now, wasn’t this better than going to some,” he hesitated as he censored himself, “club.”
“Eh. Clubs have their place. If you find a club with a band you really like, the groove you get from being in a crowd with music flowing is like nothing else, but this was great. You are a good cook.”
Now Arthur felt his cheeks heat as he softly replied, “Thanks.”
Putting leftovers away and stacking dishes in the sink, bumping shoulders and elbows, they began to find where their rhythms synched. By the time the tea was ready, they were feeling much more comfortable with each other, although Arthur still felt like an excited electron orbiting a nucleus.
Arthur’s flat was well appointed, but small. He didn’t spend much time there and didn’t entertain much. While he was brilliant at military strategy, it wasn’t helping him decide where to take the tea.
Merlin came to the rescue when he asked, “Hey, do you mind if we sit somewhere else? Do you have a couch, or just even the floor is fine for me. My back is starting to get a little sore.”
“No. Sure. I mean, no problem. Let’s go in the living room. There’s a sofa that you will love, I promise.”
When Merlin saw the sofa, he rubbed his back, but he didn’t say anything out loud. “Um, I’ll just take the floor. Really. It’s fine. I sit on the floor in my flat all the time. I’m used to it and you’ve got great carpet.”
Arthur silently agreed that he did have great carpet. His sister Morgana had picked it out, as with all the furnishings, and she had amazing taste. It didn’t hurt that she was in the business.
“Oh. Yeah. My sister is an interior decorator. She knows,” and cares, Arthur thought to himself, “about all this stuff. I don’t know. It’s just another piece of furniture to me.”
Merlin chuckled a little at this. He settled himself next to the walnut coffee table, knees poking above the level of the tabletop. Sipping the tea, he looked perfectly at home, Arthur thought.
“Hey, should I put some music on? I can put on Radio 1, if you like.”
“Hunh? Oh, no. That’s ok. I mean, if you want, you can, but we don’t need to listen to anything.”
“Oh. Right. I just assumed you were one of those people who had a constant soundtrack in the background. You have those headphones in all the time.” Arthur indicated the white cord snaking out of Merlin’s ear.
Merlin laughed again, unsettling butterflies in Arthur’s stomach. Again. Damn this man, Arthur thought. He did not have time in his career for a relationship.
Realizing he’d missed something, he said, “Sorry, I spaced out for a minute. What were you saying?”
“Oh, yeah, I have the ear buds in all the time, well, one anyway, but I often don’t have any music playing. It just keeps people from talking to me. Otherwise, everyone talks to me. Heck, this doesn’t deter everyone. I’ve had people talk to me even when I have been listening to something.”
Arthur nodded, stunned. People didn’t just approach him and start talking to him, unless they were under his command. He was an authority figure and couldn’t imagine random people talking to him for no reason. Struggling to get back to the conversation, Arthur asked, “So, what do you listen to?”
“Depends on what I’m doing. If I’m coding and want to listen to something, it’s Gregorian chant all the way. If I’m walking around town, I might listen to a podcast one of my friends have done or music.” Merlin looked up at Arthur from his prone position on the floor. “Don’t you listen to stuff?”
“Oh sure. I listen to Radio 4 when I’m cooking something in the kitchen. Or sometimes Radio 3.”
Merlin’s eyes widened. “What about if you are walking around or driving or something?”
“Nah. I’m happy to just walk along and think about strategies or what I need to do. I don’t like to listen to anything in the car; it’s too distracting.”
Merlin chewed on his lower lip, apparently thinking. He popped up and said, “I’ve got an idea. Let’s go back to the War Room.”
“Now?! Are you crazy? It’s 11pm and neither of us in a state to drive there. We’ve drunk that whole bottle of wine.”
“Oh. Had we? I hadn’t noticed. Ok, we can walk. Our heads will be clear by the time we get there then.”
“It will take us an hour to walk there.”
“So? You got somewhere else to be?”
Arthur gaped, realized he really didn’t have anywhere else to be and didn’t want to refuse the offer.
“Ok, give me a minute to get my boots on and we can go.”
The rain had dried up hours ago, but had left a fine mist. Looking up, they could see a fuzzy full moon above. Arthur had expected to find more people on the streets and was pleased that he didn’t have to navigate crowds.
Merlin had come in a t-shirt and jeans, unprepared to be outside for a jaunt, so Arthur had given him a red hoodie. They were of a size, although Merlin was leaner, so the hoodie hung a little loose; Arthur found this endearing and attractive.
They pointed out inconsequential things on the street that they found amusing or just talked about random things, as people will do on a stroll. Arthur realized, about halfway there, that they’d fallen in step with each other. Then Merlin found some music on his iPhone for Arthur to listen to and they walked close to each other, sharing the ear buds. He’d never felt so comfortable with anyone, let alone someone he barely knew.
Finally, they reached their destination. Merlin signed in and flashed his ID. Arthur swiped his badge, and they entered the building. The guard on duty knew Arthur and they nodded to each other as the men passed the guard’s desk. Merlin walked silent as a cat while Arthur’s footsteps echoed in the corridor; no one was around to absorb the sound.
They rounded the corner to arrive at the War Room. Arthur took out a key and inserted it into the lock, making a snick noise as it engaged. Then he swiped his badge, allowing the door to open.
Merlin had shut the room down when he’d left, earlier in the day, and it was completely dark but for a little green flashing light.
“Arthur, I want you to lie down in the middle of the room.”
“What do I need to do that for?”
“Just,” he pursed his lips, “have patience. You’ll see.”
“I don’t think so. You need to give me a better reason than ‘you’ll see.’”
“Oh, Arthur. Don’t you ever trust anyone? Come on. It’ll be fun.”
“You git. I’m a General. I didn’t get here by trusting people and having fun.”
Merlin reached out, sliding soft fingertips to grasp Arthur’s hand, and said quietly, “Arthur. Believe me. I can’t tell you. Don’t you like surprises? Even a little?”
Arthur wanted to argue with Merlin, but the touch of Merlin’s skin on his own distracted him and he relented. What harm could come of it?
“All right.” As he went to lie in the middle of the room, Merlin went to the console and started typing. Arthur sat on the floor, took off his jacket, and folded it up for a pillow. He lay down, head on his jacket, and closed his eyes. He’d had a long day that hadn’t started so well and he was tired.
He felt Merlin lie down next to him, warm heat up his side, rubber soles hitting his boots. A soft melody started playing and Merlin whispered, “Arthur, open your eyes.”
Arthur opened his eyes and was glad he was lying down.
“Oh my god. It’s full of stars.”
This entry was originally posted at http://jelazakazone.dreamwidth.org/543781.html. Feel free to comment here or there.