[Fic] The Pentagram Sacrifices [Part 3]
| Masterpost | Part Two | Part Four |
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The drive home had been quiet. The traffic was slow and the street less busy than normal and for the first time in days, Arthur allowed himself not to think about the case. But it was useless, every few minutes he would drift back to a minor detail. Then would try to force himself to think about the upcoming club match that he wanted to attend but wasn’t sure if he would have the time. By the time he got to his flat, he was starting to have a headache.
His flat was in a nice part of Islington, not very far from where the first murder happened. It wouldn’t have been what he would’ve chosen for himself, but Morgana had bullied him after his last bad breakup. She had accused him of wallowing, which she was of course right, but that didn’t mean it hadn’t been frustrating to deal with her. Morgana could be like a whirlwind, a gleeful whirlwind who tried to interfere with things that Arthur thought he had under control. Well mostly under control.
Reaching to grab his mail, he opened the door, nudging off his shoes as he shut it behind him. He switched on the lights before flipping through what were mostly bills and an invite to a wedding from a friend he hadn’t spoken to in years. The old bastard’s finally getting married, he mused as he glanced at the invite before tossing it on the table. He wouldn’t go, probably send a check for a gift or something. He couldn't remember the last time he had gone to a wedding. Not since Bran had left, he thought, before pushing the thought away.
With the rest of the night to himself, Arthur tugged off his crumpled tie and pulled his shirt out of his pants as he walked across the room. Pulling open the fridge door, he surveyed the contents with a frown. Beside a carton of milk that he knew had probably gone bad and bread that was definitely showing signs of mold, there were couple bottles of beer and some yogurt that may or may not have been expired. Buying groceries was another thing he needed to take care of along with the laundry. Maybe I should’ve gotten some takeaway, Arthur thought yawning.
Grabbing a beer, he shuffled to the living room, slumping down onto the couch, suddenly overcome with exhaustion. He was getting old. Back at Trinity he never had been this tired even after less sleep than this during his final term papers.
He popped the beer open, barely avoiding to spill any and pulled out his phone to check his messages.
There were two from the office, one of them being a follow up from Lamorak. They hadn't found anything on the phone and nothing suspicious in the text messages. Arthur stared off in thought as he replayed the message. This increased the chance that the second vic was just at the wrong place at the wrong time. If only they had been able to located the first vic's phone. There was something about the way she was killed that bothered Arthur. It was just as gruesome as the second murder, but something did not fit.
The next message was from his sister Morgana, and Arthur wondered at when she had found time to call him. She had a prominent case coming up next week and if there was something other than their Pendragon stubbornness they had in common was that they were both workaholics.
“Arthur, why the hell do you never pick up your phone? What's the point in having one if you're never going to use it? I wouldn’t even know if you were still alive if it weren’t for Leon keeping me updated." came out in quick rush, before a hesitant pause, "Anyways, I was thinking, there's this bloke, a colleague of mine that I want you to meet. I know you're busy but seriously you need to get out more."
Arthur rolled his eyes, and was amused as the voice mail continued, "And no, don't roll your eyes at me. Even Uther is worried. He actually called me the other day to ask about you. And you know, he never worries. I’m having a dinner in a couple weeks once the case is over---just telling you now so you can put it on your calendar. So no excuses.” Another pause and then, “But call me yeah?”
Arthur sighed as he heard the concern in Morgana's voice. And he knew he wasn't being fair. He had been making excuses with work, but every time he saw how happy everyone was and how they would look at him in concern, well he rather not go to another “Arthur pity party.”
And with this case, there was something about this case beyond the gruesome, horrific deaths that bothered him and he didn’t want to worry Morgana. He wasn’t even sure why this case bothered him so much in the first place, especially when it wasn’t his to begin with, at least not until this second murder.
Though, he could admit to himself and not that he would ever tell her but Morgana was right, he did need to go out more. The lads from CID had been inviting him out to the pub for months now and more often than not, he found himself home watching crap telly. And it's been two years since that ugly split with Bran and the awkwardness of his unplanned coming out at work that ensued. Has it really been that long, he wondered leaning back into the couch. Maybe he really needed to start trusting himself again. And most of the officers in his division hadn't cared that he favored blokes over birds.
Taking another long pull of beer, the bitterness sharp against his tongue, he turned on the telly. The evening news was on and Arthur sat up with a sinking feeling as he he recognized the scene behind the reporter.
"This was the location of the second murder. While the police have denied that there is a connection, anonymous sources say that indeed, the police are linking the murder of the young woman Ceirydwen Rhys, recently of Manchester with the murder that happened three days ago. Both murders had symbols of pentagrams and other similar markings on them. Next we turn to our exclusive interview with Dr. Trogdon, a leading profiler on serial killers about The Pentagram Sacrifices."
"What the fuck!" Arthur said, his fingers almost instinctively typing in Leon's number. “They’re already calling it a serial killing?” But before he could press call, his phone rang. "The Dragon" flashing on the screen.
Just great, he briefly debated how much trouble he would get in if he ignored the call before finally pressing accept.
"Hello, sir." Arthur answered already knowing why Chief Commissioner Kilgharrah had called.
"I presumed you have seen the news Pendragon," the low gravelly voice of the Commissioner came through. Arthur always had wondered whether his voice was like that it was because of the years of heavy chain-smoking or was just naturally so.
"The Pentagram Sacrifices," Commissioner Kilgharrah continued, "well despite the unoriginality, it is quite catchy."
"Sir?"
"This will be your number one priority until the perpetrator is caught."
"Yes, sir."
"Gaius mentioned that a consultant will be helping you with the case. I expect you to bring him along with you throughout the course of the investigation. He is a leading expert, I am told."
"Yes, but I don't think-" Arthur started to say.
But the Commissioner continued on, ignoring him, "This case needs to be wrapped up as soon as possible therefore I'm assigning DI McConnell and DS Hathaway to this case as well. You'll be leading the team, but this way we can cover more ground."
"I'm already working the case with DI Whitstead and his sergeant, along with several of the constables."
"Do you really think that is enough?" The rhetorical no clearly evident in the Commissioner’s voice.
Arthur kept silent because he knew Gwaine is a good choice. No one at CID knew the Lower East End like Gwaine did, which constantly came as a source of surprise. But being contrary was part of his nature, Arthur mused ruefully as he considered the inevitable teasing and stubbornness that he was going to have to put up with, but at the end of the day Gwaine was loyal to a fault. And they were probably going to need his expertise in the long run. Not including the fact that his sergeant, Percy was always good to have in a bad situation.
"I expect a report on my desk within the week Pendragon."
"Yes, Sir."
The call ended with an audible click, and Arthur stared at the telly he had muted. The news had moved on to something much more mundane. He briefly wondered what this "professor" was like and hoped that the man was at least intelligent and not some posh wanker that was wrapped up in his ivory tower. He could hear Morgana in the back of his head shouting, "Pot, kettle, black." Arthur ignored the voice as he turned the volume up changing the channel to a footie match.
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He was late coming in the next morning. Maybe Leon was right about not getting enough sleep, Arthur thought grudgingly as he made his way through the doors. The constable sitting at the front desk of the entrance was glaring at someone standing a few meters away near the elevators. Arthur quirked an eyebrow, it was rare to see George ruffled by anything.
“Good morning George,” Arthur said as he swiped his badge and walked past the sensor detectors.
“Good morning, sir,” George replied, the sir being drawn at to sire.
Arthur suppressed his irritation as he glanced at the man and back at George, “Is there a problem?”
“No, sir,” George replied, nose upturned at some sort of affront. He was still scowling at the man near the elevators making Arthur even more curious. George was rather an uptight fellow with a stickler for rules, but he generally was courteous.
Intrigued, Arthur walked up to the man who looked rather lost. He was shaking his head at the directory and muttering under his breath. Arthur paused as he took in the stranger from the back. The man was far too lanky by half with slightly big ears and a dark mop of curly hair.
“Can I help you?”
“Oh hi,” the man said turning, his wide blue eyes warm, and lips curving in a smile, “Um, maybe you might be able to help me? I’m looking for Chief Inspector Davies office?”
Well fuck.
Arthur found himself distracted by blue eyes framed with long lashes and sharp cheekbones. He felt his eyes drawing to the way the man unconsciously bit his bottom lip before snapping out of it. Just a good-looking bloke--nothing more, he told himself firmly shifting his eyes away from the man’s mouth.
“Who are you?” he asked curtly instead, mentally wincing at his tone of voice.
The smile vanished from the man’s face and he frowned, his Welsh accent more pronounced, “Excuse me?”
He had never considered the Welsh accent sexy before.
“Why are you looking for Chief Inspector Davies?” Arthur amended.
The man gave him a quizzical look before starting to answer, “He’s my--”
The rest of his answer wasn’t heard under the loud yell of “Hey Princess!” that came down the corridor.
Arthur groaned loudly trying to ignore the curious look the man was sending him.
He mentally tried to will the elevator to come faster, but no such luck. And a moment later, he was tackled as Gwaine slung an arm around him, his usual lanky brown hair pulled back in a ponytail, “Oy, is there a reason why you haven’t been coming to pub night with the rest of us lads?”
“Is the ponytail something you hope will get you laid?,” Arthur asked snidely instead.
“Why? Is it working? Have you fallen for my charms again? There's that storage closet on the fourth floor that's usually empty.”
“Obviously once had been enough,” Arthur retorted
“Interesting. What’s got your knickers in a twist this morning?” Gwaine muttered before finally noticing the dark haired man standing next to them.
The man looked embarrassed under Gwaine’s speculative gaze, but he met Gwaine’s eyes head on with a raised eyebrow.
“Oh I see. And just your type too.” The man took a quick peek at Arthur hearing the comment, his cheeks flushed but he seemed amused by the whole situation. Arthur wished the floor would just open up and somehow relieve him of this mortifying embarrassment.
“Gwaine.” Arthur resisted the urge to give him the two finger salute. Just barely.
“You know, I’ve never noticed before but you look quite fetching when you’re angry Arthur.”
The man next to them had started laughing, shoulders shaking, his grin lighting up his whole face. Arthur’s breath caught as he watched the man covertly. Shite. He couldn’t remember the last time someone had caught his attention so completely since Bran left. And even with Bran, it had taken Arthur months to notice him at the bookstore.
But thinking of Bran had dampened his interest quicker than pouring water over some fire.
“Is something funny?” Arthur asked sharply, irritated at his own reaction, shrugging off Gwaine’s arm.
Gwaine frowned at him. Jerking a thumb towards Arthur, “Don’t mind him, he’s not very good with people.”
“I can see that.” The man said, smile lingering.
The elevator finally arrived, and Arthur grouchily stepped in. He stood in the cornering trying to ignore Gwaine flirting with the bloke, but couldn't help watch them from the corner of his eyes.
Somehow Gwaine had managed to get the his phone number before even getting his name. Not that Arthur had been trying to listen for the man's name, but they were just there and he couldn't help but listen in. Even as people stepped on or off, Arthur was able to hear everything and he half wondered if Gwaine was doing that on purpose.
He found out that the man was Gaius's nephew, which Arthur was a little upset about because Gaius was an old family friend. And in the back part of his mind, he was wondering how had he not met Gaius's nephew in all that time. He definitely would've remembered meeting someone who looked like him.
Also that he was new to London, recently arrived from Cardiff. That he had gone to uni in England but Wales was home.
By the time Gwaine had started fishing to find out whether he had a sweetheart back in Cardiff, the elevator pinged. Arthur was torn between wanting to know more and wanting to get away. It didn't help that Gwaine kept shooting him all too knowing looks. The bloody wanker. He knew Arthur way too well.
Self-perseverance won out and Arthur pushed past the two of them to exit the elevator only to feel increasingly self-conscious when two pairs of eyes decided to watch him curiously. His ears perked up when he heard one of them mention his name and he strained to hear what they were saying while simultaneously trying escape them. When his attempts proved futile he instead shifted his focus to the people milling around on the floor, as if that was what he had been concentrating on in the first place.
The Chief Inspector just happened to be one of the people out on the floor, talking to several of the constables. Gaius looked up and gave Arthur a bemused look before speaking to Merlin warmly, “Merlin, perfect timing,” “And I see you’ve already met Gwaine and Arthur. You’ll be working with both of them for this investigation.”
“Wait, he's the consultant we’re working with?” Arthur asked, staring back at the man who had followed them.
“Arthur, this is Professor Merlin Emrys. He’s an Arthurian scholar and a well-known expert in the field, who is kindly willing to help us despite his heavy workload this semester at City University,” and Arthur inwardly groaned as Gwaine started laughing somewhere to the side. The gorgeous man in front of him flushed as if he just realized what Gaius may have inadvertently implied. Gaius frowned at Gwaine before continuing, “Professor Emrys is also a leading expert on Archaic Welsh and early Celtic text so his expertise will be particularly helpful in figuring out the markings we found on the victims. You'll be consulting with him on that as well as any other evidence that he may be of help with.”
“Merlin, this is DI Arthur Pendragon. He's in charge of this investigation. You'll be working closely with him.”
The man looked startled at the mention of Arthur’s name eyes flicking to Arthur and then back, “Gaius, I don't think--”
Gaius gave him his patented raised eyebrow and mouthed something that suspiciously looked like “Later.” The man, Merlin with the gorgeous blue eyes, Arthur’s mind helpfully supplied, shot an irritated look at Gaius before acquiescing, “Fine.”
Arthur frowned, unsure of whether he should’ve felt affronted or not from the man’s obvious reluctance to work with him. Wondering why he suddenly felt insecure about Merlin’s untoward reaction to him, he asked, obnoxiously, “Your parents actually named you Merlin?” the words just tumbled out and Arthur couldn’t figure out why he was so dead set on annoying the man in front of him.
“My father was fond of The Once and Future King.”
“Right.”
“Does that mean his dad would've named him Gandalf if he liked Lord of the Rings instead?” someone loudly whispered in the background. “Shut up Owain,” some else commented and Arthur resisted the urge to pinch the bridge of his nose against what appeared to be beginnings of a headache.
“If you lads can't be civilized then I can take this meeting into my office,” Gaius threatened, his eyebrow raised.
There was an almost instantaneous quiet after that, and Gaius waited another beat before continuing, “As I was saying, Professor Emrys will be helping us on the case. I expect you all to help him as he gets caught up to speed.”
Turning towards Professor Emrys, Gaius continued, “DI Pendragon will help you get settled and bring you to date on what information we have so far.”
“Arthur, if you could get Professor Emrys set up? And Merlin, before you leave for the night, stop by my office, will you?"
Arthur noted with reluctant amusement as "Professor Emrys" shot Gaius another disgruntled look before turning to following him.
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| Masterpost | Part Two | Part Four |