Timeslip (part one)
Title: Timeslip (part one)
Word Count: 3868
Rating: R
Disclaimer: Owned by Shine and BBC; please don’t sue me, I’m only playing!
Warnings/spoilers: language, violence, homophobic abuse
Summary: Something's gone wrong with time and World peace is at stake. Can agent Merlin save the ancestor of his dead lover?
1.
To: EU Time Commissioner
From: Internal Investigations
Subject: World events leading up to the establishment of European Time Agency (ETA); Profile of Agent Emrys and his suitability for Operation Pendragon
Date: 2062, August 8th
Classification: Red
Timeline 2024 - 2051
2024, November 5th - Scotland declares full independence. Northern Ireland joins a federalised Republic of Eire
2025, March 7th - Third invasion of Ukraine and Moldova by Russia. Collapse of the Islamic Caliphate
2028, May 1st - Nuclear detonations occur in London, Washington, New York, Beijing, Hong Kong, London, Moscow, St Petersburg, Ankara, Tokyo and Mecca
2028, May 3rd - Agents of the New World Order (ANWO, pronounced 'Anoo') claim responsibility for May Day atrocities
2029, March 1st - Wales (now known only as Cymru) holds illegal referendum, votes for independence. Cornwall/Kernow holds illegal referendum, votes for independence
2029, March 15th - Treaty of Paris signed, end of the English Aggression. Collapse of Spain into independent states.
2029, July 4th - Breton gains independence. Breton, Cymru and Kernow join the Celtic Convention (CC). EU expels Turkey
2031, January 1st - The Birmingham (Eng) Massacre
2031, January 17th - Breakup of NATO. Fascist Union of America (FUA) formed
2031, January 18th - Republic of England becomes 51st state of FUA
2033, May 1st - Euro-Russia joins EU
2042, October 18th - China invades Mongolia, Siberia, Nepal, Laos, Korea and Vietnam
2043 - Nuclear war between China and India/Pakistan. Nuclear war between Iran and Israel. Nuclear war between Brazil and Argentina
2043, October 16th - Global Treaty of Cape Town signed
2048, March 3rd - CC joins the EU
2051, October 1st - EU CERN Declaration, (total neutrality and the formation of the European Time Agency (ETA) )
Agent Emrys
This operative is not recommended for this mission. Reason...
Strasbourg, 2062, August 8th
Gaius chucked the two files (one thick and one very slim and new) onto his glass-topped desk and he pursed his lips as he formed a steeple with his fingers. Paper files were more easily kept secret, even though the EU led the field in cyber-security. The only sound in his Strasbourg spacious office came from the slow tap of a black, lacquered finger nail. It irritated him.
“Morgana, this is the best you can come up with? Surely the Celtic Convention can produce someone more...experienced?” He expertly stifled a grin as the one opposite him raised an eyebrow; she was wont to do that when irritated.
“Of the three agents still alive with experience in the field, he is. And he is exceptionally good, better than whatever Paris or Berlin can come with. Very professional, very good at his job.”
Gaius picked up the slim file again and leafed through it. He found the list of achievements. Even before his two time journeys (routine missions), the young, ex-gymnast had succeeded in many kills, rescues and numerous other missions that an older agent would be jealous of. He flicked back to the small photograph. Short black hair, cheek bones impossibly sharp and dark-blue eyes stared back at the EU Commissioner of Time.
“Where is he now?”
“I forced him to have a three month vacation.” Morgana tapped a few buttons on her wristband and stared at the screen. “Mountaineering in the Urals as we speak.”
Gaius frowned. “Forced?”
“His partner, another agent of mine, died on a mission in Los Angeles earlier this year. Real time.”
He wasn't a time operative.”
It was Gaius' turn to raise an eyebrow. Eventually, he broke the silence. “Call him in and brief him.”
Morgana gave a smile, smoothly got up and left. Gaius went over to the vast window, but the sight of the gleaming glass towers rooted in a carpet of trees failed to impress and calm him this time. The mission was too important.
Austrian Alps, Location Unknown, 2062 August 12th
Merlin eased his hydro-jet onto the pad and casually flicked the switches to kill the engines. He could have journeyed to ETA HQ by auto, but that was not his style.
He opened the hatch, grabbed his large rucksack and jumped out as the platform started to sink into the ground. Strip lights flickered into life as the roof rumbled closed overhead and he slung the heavy bag over one shoulder. Merlin walked to the only door and waited for a long four minutes.
Finally, metal slid aside and three people came through, all in leaf-green overalls. Two went straight for the jet to sweep it for bugs and do general maintenance. The third stood in front of the time op to do a hand sweep. Merlin noticed the cloth badge and brought up the relevant file in his head.
The light on the hand held scanner glowed green. “You're clean. Welcome back, Commander Emrys.”
Merlin gave a small smile. “Thanks. Hows the husband?”
Cenred laughed. “Coping with the kids, just.” The man then became solemn. “I...sorry to hear of your loss. Only met him once, but he was a great guy...”
Merlin zoned out the rest and kept the smile on, a trick he had got used to. When the sympathetic words stopped, he mumbled his thanks and forced his feet forward into the wide, metallic corridor.
Black suites ignored him and briskly walked by as he made his own way to his quarters; three spartan rooms. All traces of the one he had loved and lost had been erased from the area months ago. That action, done on a rare occasion when Merlin had drunk too much, had not been enough. It was only after a near-scalding shower that the weight he thought he had lost in the Ural mountains eased slightly from his heart.
After the blowers had dried him, Merlin ignored the wardrobe and pulled out from his bag a clean pair of jeans, a white tee and tan boots. It was only when he had put on the black leather jacket (his black leather jacket) that he glanced through the file that had been left on his pillow whilst he had showered. The title was neat and small. It read 'Operation Pendragon'.
* * *
“Open,” he spat out and the metal door slid aside. Merlin stormed in and slammed the file onto the glass surface. Calmly and as he rested his knuckles on the surface, he said “Is this a fucking joke?”
Morgana got up from her chair. “Wait outside.” The technicians and maintenance crews quickly did as commanded and kept wide of the time operative. When they were alone she walked over to within an inch of him and stabbed him in his muscled chest with one finger. “I'll let that go, just this once.”
Merlin scowled and slumped into one of nine chairs. “Okay, brief me . What's not in the file?”
Morgana knew that was the only apology she was going to get and went back to her own seat. “We don't know how they got the information, who is funding them, or where they are based, but ANWO have a time centre all of their own. The only other one in existence,” she needlessly added, but Merlin's attention was caught. “We think Pendragon Cybernetics is the target. An anomaly in the time stream has appeared.”
Merlin let the information sink in. If Pendragon Cybernetics was in danger or was placed outside the EU, then this time line would be severely compromised. “How many enemy ops?”
Morgana went to the bag at her feet and said “Unknown, but more than two.” She brought out a battered, silver cigarette case and slid it over.
It was deftly caught and he read the hastily scratched words; 'Pen Cyb in danger. Arthur 2020. NWO ops 3?. Request recall/backup. Du012'. He looked up sharply and saw his superior let out a long, nervous breath. Morgana usually had a cool exterior. This unnerved him.
“Agent DuLac is presumed dead. Recall only brought back his band, stained with his blood. You are going to replace him.”
Merlin nodded once. He preferred to wear his time band around his left ankle. They were genetically linked to the agent and could produce very short bursts of time and space if needed, but it was very tricky. Lance had been part of the French Corp and was nearly as good as him. If he had been taken out of action...
“When do I go?”
“Now.”
Merlin immediately got up and walked over to one of the modified, leather bags and took one from a hook on the wall. He stripped himself of his clothes and stuffed them into it; only his time band was left on his person as he, bag in hand, went to a large cubicle on the far side of the room, one of four.
The staff were called back in and a transparent, glasteel door was lowered over his body. Merlin closed his eyes, he hated this part. A gas of nano-organic matter was streamed into the chamber and coated his body (needed for long-term time journeys) and he automatically lifted one foot and then another to get his soles coated. It felt as if he was drowning in slime and he forced down the instinct to gag.
He then felt a shudder and nearly lost his balance. Merlin frowned but did not open his eyes until he felt rain pelting his body.
It was night and he stood upon a shingle bank of the River Thames. The tide was out. He briskly walked over to stone steps that led up to the streets of London. After five minutes of letting the downpour wash his skin and hair, he quickly dressed and folded the bag neatly to fit into an inner pocket of his jacket. He walked up the rest of the steps and picked up a discarded newspaper from the pavement. Without reading it, he chose a primitive parked black BMW and easily broke in. Before he started the engine he took a look at the paper.
“Shit!”
Merlin accessed his memory chip. Yes, according to the information he had downloaded earlier, he was supposed to be in Kernow, not London. And it was supposed to have been 10th October 2020, not 4th May 2015.
He cursed again and started the engine up. Arthur would be at a boarding school in Hereford. Timeslip or no, that was where Merlin was going.
The car sped through the streets of London and soon left the doomed city behind.
* * *
Arthur pushed his thin-rimmed glasses further up the bridge of his nose. One of the lenses had a crack in it; the result from a football 'accident'. Not that he had been playing the game at the time, but had been happily reading his book on the theories of quantum physics when the ball had smashed into his face. That had been two weeks ago, but he was used to such things.
It was peaceful in the light woods that surrounded three sides of Hoxley School for Boys and his preferred spot was a small clearing where a fallen oak had made a convenient bench for him to sit on.
He looked up and squinted at the setting sun. He reckoned he had about another thirty minutes before he should go in for his supper. Cod with mashed potato and peas tonight. It was his favourite.
“Oi, queer boy!”
He inwardly groaned. Valiant and his gang had found him. He would have to pick yet another favourite spot to read in peace another day. Valiant and his cronies, all five of them, came closer.
“Thought you'd escape your daily punishment did you, faggot? Our balls need draining and you're the closest thing we've got to a girl in this dump.”
Arthur knew his cheeks were red. He should be used to this by now, he told himself, but he would never truly accept the shame, the violation. He went down on his knees and stared at his tormentor. The bully was a year older than himself at seventeen and with the muscle and cockiness that went with it. He hated and lusted after the bastard, not that the blond would tell Valiant that.
Valiant had his belt already in his hand and his grey trousers unzipped when the leathery blow stung Merlin's upper shoulder. The thin cotton white shirt gave no protection. “You eye-balling me, bum fucker?”
Arthur steadfastly kept his eyes on the trampled undergrowth at his knees. “N-no Valiant. Sorry Valiant.”
He heard rather than saw the sneer in the words. “Get ready for some real cock, you queer cunt.”
The rather small penis was about to enter his open mouth when Valiant was suddenly swept sidewards. It was only after a few cries of pain from the other boys and the sound of running feet did Arthur dare to look up. He saw a profile of a tall, black-haired (and rather hot) stranger twist Valiant's arm behind his back.
“I think you owe this schoolboy an apology, don't you?”
“Fuck off you fucking Taffy cunt. Go back to Wales and shag sheep, Welsh bastard.” Arthur's tormentor tried to free his arm and use the fist of his other to strike some blows against his assailant. What happened instead was his face being smashed against a tree trunk. The tree was a rowan.
“That's for insulting my homeland. It's Cymru and I'm Cymry not Welsh.” As an afterthought Valiant's face met the tree again and Arthur was sure he heard the snap of bone and blood splatter the ground. “And that's for molesting Arthur. Say sorry.”
“You've broken my fucking nose!” Valiant wailed, still with a hint of defiance in his voice.
“Apologise, or it will be you who'll be tasting a real man's cum. I'll have to knock your teeth out first, of course.”
A damp patch appeared in the seat of the bully's pants. “I'm sorry, I'm sorry Arthur!”
The stranger let go of his captive and stared after a running Valiant until the latter was out of sight. When the man, who had to be in his early twenties at the most, turned around, Arthur was struck by the handsome face, the hidden wiry strength, the intense blue eyes. He hurriedly looked down at the brush again.
“Please don't hurt me, sir. I promise I won't tell anyone.” The blond heard a long breath being let out.
“No, it's me who should apologise. I could've handled that better. It's just...when I saw you being...” Arthur looked up just in time to see the stranger gulp back emotion. Then a mask of calm with a hint of suppressed anger came over the face. “Pack your things. One bag only. Meet me back here in twenty minutes. Don't be late.”
Arthur shakily got to his feet and backed a few paces away in the direction of Hoxley House. “S-sir?”
“Arthur, you're in danger and I'm here to protect you.”
The blond continued to walk backwards. “How do you know my name?” What kind of question was that, idiot. Just run. The stranger's eyes narrowed dangerously and Arthur did not bother to stay around to hear what was next said. He ran as fast as he could, as if his very life depended upon it.
Merlin wiped a palm over his face. “Shit!”
As he lowered his arm he gazed longingly at the receding form of a young, handsome, blond boy. “He's not your fucking Arthur, Merlin.”
But he so looked liked him, like his dead lover. He slammed a fist into the tree trunk. “Get a grip you idiot, or we'll both end up dead,” he berated himself and wasted no time in cautiously going in the fleeing boy's direction as he stuck to the shadows. There might have been a timeslip, something had obviously gone wrong back at HQ, but he could not take the risk. What if the ANWO ops that had been operating in 2020 had somehow detected a disturbance in the stream, in 2015? It was a small risk but Merlin did not take any chances, unless he had to.
Then there was the question of what ANWO was doing in 2020. Merlin definitely did not want to go back to a world where America or China had the ability to rewrite history. Perfect the EU was not, but its unofficial motto of 'neutrality, democracy, and peace' was better than right wing fascism or Asian empire building.
Merlin grinned to himself. When had he got so political? Then he realised, when he had fallen in love with an idiotic, blond, stubborn, idealistic rich kid. They had been seventeen at the time, just recruited into the ETA...
The dark-haired time op savagely gulped down the threatening emotion and quickly scanned the front of the building. On the third floor was a partially open window, the lights out. He easily climbed up the drainpipes and ivy and slipped in. A shadow amongst shadows.
* * *
Arthur looked about his room, his torch the only source of light. It was small and filled with books, two computers and a few sticks of furniture and it was his, his father had insisted on only the best for his golden boy. The student brushed aside the fleeting thought that perhaps being slightly separate from the rest of the other boys contributed to his loneliness, but he figured that he would just be as lonely in a room filled with beds and testosterone.
He thought back to the events of the evening instead; how his bullies ended up being bullied. The intensity and controlled violence of his rescuer should have made him scared, and he had been, but there was also the thrill of seeing the hot man in action. Arthur switched off his torch, put his book on the bedside table and slipped a hand under the duvet. He was already hard. With his other hand he explored the rest of his upper body; not as muscular as Valiant, but Arthur still prided himself on being the best cross-country runner the school had ever produced.
After ten minutes of building ecstasy, Arthur saw out of the corner of his eye the thick curtains move. He stopped his masturbation and sat up in bed; this could not have been a breeze from his supposedly closed window. His suspicion was rewarded when a figure dressed in black came into the room and pointed at the boy.
As Arthur quickly leaned over to get his torch, alarmed and angry that his supposed rescuer had disturbed his self-pleasuring (and was being stalkerish), there was a muffled sound from the pillow, where his head had been. This person was not his hot resuer from earlier. Before he realised what was happening the door to his room flung open and another figure picked up his laptop and flung it at the other. The second shot also missed, instead the bullet embedded itself into his teddy bear on the bookshelf.
Rising panic started to form in the pit of Arthur's belly and his breathing became rapid. He knew he was about to scream. However, just as it started the small fight between the two figures abruptly stopped. The blond steadied his torch and aimed it at the survivor. He was thrilled and pleased that it had been his anti-bullying hero.
“What the fuck...?” he knew his voice sounded like a girl's and he coughed to make his voice go lower, but before he could repeat his question the man put a finger to his lips to demand silence. Ignoring Arthur, he went over to the door and gently closed it. The light switch was flicked on.
Arthur remembered to close his mouth. The guy was not even breathing hard. Instead he took a few minutes to stare at the body of the first figure.
“Is he...is he...” A sharp look shut the blond up.
Finally, the stranger turned to him. “I thought I told you to pack a bag,” he hissed. Before Arthur could respond, the man spoke on. “Never mind, just get dressed. Luckily this guy,” he kicked a gun from the dead man's hand, “is from this year, or that's what my scan told me. That'll make disposing of him much easier.” He turned back to Arthur. “And I'm telling all of this to you for what reason?” The man gave a small laugh and went to the wardrobe. Clothes started to fall down to the carpet at the end of the blond's bed.
Anger and fear warred within Arthur. Anger won out. “What the fuck...?” At least his voice was lower this time.
Like a striking cobra, his rescuer darted across the room, grabbed the blond's pyjama front and hauled him from his bed. Their faces were just an inch apart and cold anger was in the man's eyes. “The timeline has been compromised enough already,” he hissed, “but I'll fix it somehow. Your life is in danger and I'm here to protect you, but I can't do that if you baulk at everything I ask of you, yeah?”
Arthur could not help himself. He had been looking at the lips all through the little talk, not paying much attention to anything else. Perhaps it had been his interrupted masturbation session, perhaps it was knowing that he was still alive, or perhaps he knew deep down that now was the moment when he could actually do this, kiss another man, for the first time. He tentatively leaned in close and their lips brushed up against each other.
The stranger let go of his pyjamas and grabbed his blond hair and kissed back with a savage desire. Arthur's cock was hard again. Abruptly, the stranger pushed him away and Arthur sat down on his bed, hurt. The stranger was breathing hard now.
“Look, let's get you out of here. Get dressed and I'll meet you outside around the back in ten.” He went over to the window and looked out. Satisfied, the stranger effortlessly picked up the body and let it drop to the ground outside. Arthur noticed that his favourite pen had been sticking out of the man's left eye socket.
He gulped. “S_sir?”
The stranger turned as he went to where the body had gone, a questioning look on his face.
“What's your name, sir?”
“It's Merlin, Arthur. Now hurry up, there maybe more of them. I don't think so, but we have to think the worst. Use the fire exit and be very quiet. Know that I'll always be around to protect you.” The stranger waited for Arthur to nod his head and then silently left.
Arthur rushed to put his jeans and sweater on. He stuffed his back pack with spare clothes, his still workable laptop and a few hygiene essentials. He did not stop to think. He dared not stop and think, otherwise he would have done the sensible thing and gone straight to the headmaster.
What stopped him? The fading tingling feeling on his lips. Arthur so wanted to have that feeling back.
Word Count: 3868
Rating: R
Disclaimer: Owned by Shine and BBC; please don’t sue me, I’m only playing!
Warnings/spoilers: language, violence, homophobic abuse
Summary: Something's gone wrong with time and World peace is at stake. Can agent Merlin save the ancestor of his dead lover?
1.
To: EU Time Commissioner
From: Internal Investigations
Subject: World events leading up to the establishment of European Time Agency (ETA); Profile of Agent Emrys and his suitability for Operation Pendragon
Date: 2062, August 8th
Classification: Red
Timeline 2024 - 2051
2024, November 5th - Scotland declares full independence. Northern Ireland joins a federalised Republic of Eire
2025, March 7th - Third invasion of Ukraine and Moldova by Russia. Collapse of the Islamic Caliphate
2028, May 1st - Nuclear detonations occur in London, Washington, New York, Beijing, Hong Kong, London, Moscow, St Petersburg, Ankara, Tokyo and Mecca
2028, May 3rd - Agents of the New World Order (ANWO, pronounced 'Anoo') claim responsibility for May Day atrocities
2029, March 1st - Wales (now known only as Cymru) holds illegal referendum, votes for independence. Cornwall/Kernow holds illegal referendum, votes for independence
2029, March 15th - Treaty of Paris signed, end of the English Aggression. Collapse of Spain into independent states.
2029, July 4th - Breton gains independence. Breton, Cymru and Kernow join the Celtic Convention (CC). EU expels Turkey
2031, January 1st - The Birmingham (Eng) Massacre
2031, January 17th - Breakup of NATO. Fascist Union of America (FUA) formed
2031, January 18th - Republic of England becomes 51st state of FUA
2033, May 1st - Euro-Russia joins EU
2042, October 18th - China invades Mongolia, Siberia, Nepal, Laos, Korea and Vietnam
2043 - Nuclear war between China and India/Pakistan. Nuclear war between Iran and Israel. Nuclear war between Brazil and Argentina
2043, October 16th - Global Treaty of Cape Town signed
2048, March 3rd - CC joins the EU
2051, October 1st - EU CERN Declaration, (total neutrality and the formation of the European Time Agency (ETA) )
Agent Emrys
This operative is not recommended for this mission. Reason...
Strasbourg, 2062, August 8th
Gaius chucked the two files (one thick and one very slim and new) onto his glass-topped desk and he pursed his lips as he formed a steeple with his fingers. Paper files were more easily kept secret, even though the EU led the field in cyber-security. The only sound in his Strasbourg spacious office came from the slow tap of a black, lacquered finger nail. It irritated him.
“Morgana, this is the best you can come up with? Surely the Celtic Convention can produce someone more...experienced?” He expertly stifled a grin as the one opposite him raised an eyebrow; she was wont to do that when irritated.
“Of the three agents still alive with experience in the field, he is. And he is exceptionally good, better than whatever Paris or Berlin can come with. Very professional, very good at his job.”
Gaius picked up the slim file again and leafed through it. He found the list of achievements. Even before his two time journeys (routine missions), the young, ex-gymnast had succeeded in many kills, rescues and numerous other missions that an older agent would be jealous of. He flicked back to the small photograph. Short black hair, cheek bones impossibly sharp and dark-blue eyes stared back at the EU Commissioner of Time.
“Where is he now?”
“I forced him to have a three month vacation.” Morgana tapped a few buttons on her wristband and stared at the screen. “Mountaineering in the Urals as we speak.”
Gaius frowned. “Forced?”
“His partner, another agent of mine, died on a mission in Los Angeles earlier this year. Real time.”
He wasn't a time operative.”
It was Gaius' turn to raise an eyebrow. Eventually, he broke the silence. “Call him in and brief him.”
Morgana gave a smile, smoothly got up and left. Gaius went over to the vast window, but the sight of the gleaming glass towers rooted in a carpet of trees failed to impress and calm him this time. The mission was too important.
Austrian Alps, Location Unknown, 2062 August 12th
Merlin eased his hydro-jet onto the pad and casually flicked the switches to kill the engines. He could have journeyed to ETA HQ by auto, but that was not his style.
He opened the hatch, grabbed his large rucksack and jumped out as the platform started to sink into the ground. Strip lights flickered into life as the roof rumbled closed overhead and he slung the heavy bag over one shoulder. Merlin walked to the only door and waited for a long four minutes.
Finally, metal slid aside and three people came through, all in leaf-green overalls. Two went straight for the jet to sweep it for bugs and do general maintenance. The third stood in front of the time op to do a hand sweep. Merlin noticed the cloth badge and brought up the relevant file in his head.
The light on the hand held scanner glowed green. “You're clean. Welcome back, Commander Emrys.”
Merlin gave a small smile. “Thanks. Hows the husband?”
Cenred laughed. “Coping with the kids, just.” The man then became solemn. “I...sorry to hear of your loss. Only met him once, but he was a great guy...”
Merlin zoned out the rest and kept the smile on, a trick he had got used to. When the sympathetic words stopped, he mumbled his thanks and forced his feet forward into the wide, metallic corridor.
Black suites ignored him and briskly walked by as he made his own way to his quarters; three spartan rooms. All traces of the one he had loved and lost had been erased from the area months ago. That action, done on a rare occasion when Merlin had drunk too much, had not been enough. It was only after a near-scalding shower that the weight he thought he had lost in the Ural mountains eased slightly from his heart.
After the blowers had dried him, Merlin ignored the wardrobe and pulled out from his bag a clean pair of jeans, a white tee and tan boots. It was only when he had put on the black leather jacket (his black leather jacket) that he glanced through the file that had been left on his pillow whilst he had showered. The title was neat and small. It read 'Operation Pendragon'.
* * *
“Open,” he spat out and the metal door slid aside. Merlin stormed in and slammed the file onto the glass surface. Calmly and as he rested his knuckles on the surface, he said “Is this a fucking joke?”
Morgana got up from her chair. “Wait outside.” The technicians and maintenance crews quickly did as commanded and kept wide of the time operative. When they were alone she walked over to within an inch of him and stabbed him in his muscled chest with one finger. “I'll let that go, just this once.”
Merlin scowled and slumped into one of nine chairs. “Okay, brief me . What's not in the file?”
Morgana knew that was the only apology she was going to get and went back to her own seat. “We don't know how they got the information, who is funding them, or where they are based, but ANWO have a time centre all of their own. The only other one in existence,” she needlessly added, but Merlin's attention was caught. “We think Pendragon Cybernetics is the target. An anomaly in the time stream has appeared.”
Merlin let the information sink in. If Pendragon Cybernetics was in danger or was placed outside the EU, then this time line would be severely compromised. “How many enemy ops?”
Morgana went to the bag at her feet and said “Unknown, but more than two.” She brought out a battered, silver cigarette case and slid it over.
It was deftly caught and he read the hastily scratched words; 'Pen Cyb in danger. Arthur 2020. NWO ops 3?. Request recall/backup. Du012'. He looked up sharply and saw his superior let out a long, nervous breath. Morgana usually had a cool exterior. This unnerved him.
“Agent DuLac is presumed dead. Recall only brought back his band, stained with his blood. You are going to replace him.”
Merlin nodded once. He preferred to wear his time band around his left ankle. They were genetically linked to the agent and could produce very short bursts of time and space if needed, but it was very tricky. Lance had been part of the French Corp and was nearly as good as him. If he had been taken out of action...
“When do I go?”
“Now.”
Merlin immediately got up and walked over to one of the modified, leather bags and took one from a hook on the wall. He stripped himself of his clothes and stuffed them into it; only his time band was left on his person as he, bag in hand, went to a large cubicle on the far side of the room, one of four.
The staff were called back in and a transparent, glasteel door was lowered over his body. Merlin closed his eyes, he hated this part. A gas of nano-organic matter was streamed into the chamber and coated his body (needed for long-term time journeys) and he automatically lifted one foot and then another to get his soles coated. It felt as if he was drowning in slime and he forced down the instinct to gag.
He then felt a shudder and nearly lost his balance. Merlin frowned but did not open his eyes until he felt rain pelting his body.
It was night and he stood upon a shingle bank of the River Thames. The tide was out. He briskly walked over to stone steps that led up to the streets of London. After five minutes of letting the downpour wash his skin and hair, he quickly dressed and folded the bag neatly to fit into an inner pocket of his jacket. He walked up the rest of the steps and picked up a discarded newspaper from the pavement. Without reading it, he chose a primitive parked black BMW and easily broke in. Before he started the engine he took a look at the paper.
“Shit!”
Merlin accessed his memory chip. Yes, according to the information he had downloaded earlier, he was supposed to be in Kernow, not London. And it was supposed to have been 10th October 2020, not 4th May 2015.
He cursed again and started the engine up. Arthur would be at a boarding school in Hereford. Timeslip or no, that was where Merlin was going.
The car sped through the streets of London and soon left the doomed city behind.
* * *
Arthur pushed his thin-rimmed glasses further up the bridge of his nose. One of the lenses had a crack in it; the result from a football 'accident'. Not that he had been playing the game at the time, but had been happily reading his book on the theories of quantum physics when the ball had smashed into his face. That had been two weeks ago, but he was used to such things.
It was peaceful in the light woods that surrounded three sides of Hoxley School for Boys and his preferred spot was a small clearing where a fallen oak had made a convenient bench for him to sit on.
He looked up and squinted at the setting sun. He reckoned he had about another thirty minutes before he should go in for his supper. Cod with mashed potato and peas tonight. It was his favourite.
“Oi, queer boy!”
He inwardly groaned. Valiant and his gang had found him. He would have to pick yet another favourite spot to read in peace another day. Valiant and his cronies, all five of them, came closer.
“Thought you'd escape your daily punishment did you, faggot? Our balls need draining and you're the closest thing we've got to a girl in this dump.”
Arthur knew his cheeks were red. He should be used to this by now, he told himself, but he would never truly accept the shame, the violation. He went down on his knees and stared at his tormentor. The bully was a year older than himself at seventeen and with the muscle and cockiness that went with it. He hated and lusted after the bastard, not that the blond would tell Valiant that.
Valiant had his belt already in his hand and his grey trousers unzipped when the leathery blow stung Merlin's upper shoulder. The thin cotton white shirt gave no protection. “You eye-balling me, bum fucker?”
Arthur steadfastly kept his eyes on the trampled undergrowth at his knees. “N-no Valiant. Sorry Valiant.”
He heard rather than saw the sneer in the words. “Get ready for some real cock, you queer cunt.”
The rather small penis was about to enter his open mouth when Valiant was suddenly swept sidewards. It was only after a few cries of pain from the other boys and the sound of running feet did Arthur dare to look up. He saw a profile of a tall, black-haired (and rather hot) stranger twist Valiant's arm behind his back.
“I think you owe this schoolboy an apology, don't you?”
“Fuck off you fucking Taffy cunt. Go back to Wales and shag sheep, Welsh bastard.” Arthur's tormentor tried to free his arm and use the fist of his other to strike some blows against his assailant. What happened instead was his face being smashed against a tree trunk. The tree was a rowan.
“That's for insulting my homeland. It's Cymru and I'm Cymry not Welsh.” As an afterthought Valiant's face met the tree again and Arthur was sure he heard the snap of bone and blood splatter the ground. “And that's for molesting Arthur. Say sorry.”
“You've broken my fucking nose!” Valiant wailed, still with a hint of defiance in his voice.
“Apologise, or it will be you who'll be tasting a real man's cum. I'll have to knock your teeth out first, of course.”
A damp patch appeared in the seat of the bully's pants. “I'm sorry, I'm sorry Arthur!”
The stranger let go of his captive and stared after a running Valiant until the latter was out of sight. When the man, who had to be in his early twenties at the most, turned around, Arthur was struck by the handsome face, the hidden wiry strength, the intense blue eyes. He hurriedly looked down at the brush again.
“Please don't hurt me, sir. I promise I won't tell anyone.” The blond heard a long breath being let out.
“No, it's me who should apologise. I could've handled that better. It's just...when I saw you being...” Arthur looked up just in time to see the stranger gulp back emotion. Then a mask of calm with a hint of suppressed anger came over the face. “Pack your things. One bag only. Meet me back here in twenty minutes. Don't be late.”
Arthur shakily got to his feet and backed a few paces away in the direction of Hoxley House. “S-sir?”
“Arthur, you're in danger and I'm here to protect you.”
The blond continued to walk backwards. “How do you know my name?” What kind of question was that, idiot. Just run. The stranger's eyes narrowed dangerously and Arthur did not bother to stay around to hear what was next said. He ran as fast as he could, as if his very life depended upon it.
Merlin wiped a palm over his face. “Shit!”
As he lowered his arm he gazed longingly at the receding form of a young, handsome, blond boy. “He's not your fucking Arthur, Merlin.”
But he so looked liked him, like his dead lover. He slammed a fist into the tree trunk. “Get a grip you idiot, or we'll both end up dead,” he berated himself and wasted no time in cautiously going in the fleeing boy's direction as he stuck to the shadows. There might have been a timeslip, something had obviously gone wrong back at HQ, but he could not take the risk. What if the ANWO ops that had been operating in 2020 had somehow detected a disturbance in the stream, in 2015? It was a small risk but Merlin did not take any chances, unless he had to.
Then there was the question of what ANWO was doing in 2020. Merlin definitely did not want to go back to a world where America or China had the ability to rewrite history. Perfect the EU was not, but its unofficial motto of 'neutrality, democracy, and peace' was better than right wing fascism or Asian empire building.
Merlin grinned to himself. When had he got so political? Then he realised, when he had fallen in love with an idiotic, blond, stubborn, idealistic rich kid. They had been seventeen at the time, just recruited into the ETA...
The dark-haired time op savagely gulped down the threatening emotion and quickly scanned the front of the building. On the third floor was a partially open window, the lights out. He easily climbed up the drainpipes and ivy and slipped in. A shadow amongst shadows.
* * *
Arthur looked about his room, his torch the only source of light. It was small and filled with books, two computers and a few sticks of furniture and it was his, his father had insisted on only the best for his golden boy. The student brushed aside the fleeting thought that perhaps being slightly separate from the rest of the other boys contributed to his loneliness, but he figured that he would just be as lonely in a room filled with beds and testosterone.
He thought back to the events of the evening instead; how his bullies ended up being bullied. The intensity and controlled violence of his rescuer should have made him scared, and he had been, but there was also the thrill of seeing the hot man in action. Arthur switched off his torch, put his book on the bedside table and slipped a hand under the duvet. He was already hard. With his other hand he explored the rest of his upper body; not as muscular as Valiant, but Arthur still prided himself on being the best cross-country runner the school had ever produced.
After ten minutes of building ecstasy, Arthur saw out of the corner of his eye the thick curtains move. He stopped his masturbation and sat up in bed; this could not have been a breeze from his supposedly closed window. His suspicion was rewarded when a figure dressed in black came into the room and pointed at the boy.
As Arthur quickly leaned over to get his torch, alarmed and angry that his supposed rescuer had disturbed his self-pleasuring (and was being stalkerish), there was a muffled sound from the pillow, where his head had been. This person was not his hot resuer from earlier. Before he realised what was happening the door to his room flung open and another figure picked up his laptop and flung it at the other. The second shot also missed, instead the bullet embedded itself into his teddy bear on the bookshelf.
Rising panic started to form in the pit of Arthur's belly and his breathing became rapid. He knew he was about to scream. However, just as it started the small fight between the two figures abruptly stopped. The blond steadied his torch and aimed it at the survivor. He was thrilled and pleased that it had been his anti-bullying hero.
“What the fuck...?” he knew his voice sounded like a girl's and he coughed to make his voice go lower, but before he could repeat his question the man put a finger to his lips to demand silence. Ignoring Arthur, he went over to the door and gently closed it. The light switch was flicked on.
Arthur remembered to close his mouth. The guy was not even breathing hard. Instead he took a few minutes to stare at the body of the first figure.
“Is he...is he...” A sharp look shut the blond up.
Finally, the stranger turned to him. “I thought I told you to pack a bag,” he hissed. Before Arthur could respond, the man spoke on. “Never mind, just get dressed. Luckily this guy,” he kicked a gun from the dead man's hand, “is from this year, or that's what my scan told me. That'll make disposing of him much easier.” He turned back to Arthur. “And I'm telling all of this to you for what reason?” The man gave a small laugh and went to the wardrobe. Clothes started to fall down to the carpet at the end of the blond's bed.
Anger and fear warred within Arthur. Anger won out. “What the fuck...?” At least his voice was lower this time.
Like a striking cobra, his rescuer darted across the room, grabbed the blond's pyjama front and hauled him from his bed. Their faces were just an inch apart and cold anger was in the man's eyes. “The timeline has been compromised enough already,” he hissed, “but I'll fix it somehow. Your life is in danger and I'm here to protect you, but I can't do that if you baulk at everything I ask of you, yeah?”
Arthur could not help himself. He had been looking at the lips all through the little talk, not paying much attention to anything else. Perhaps it had been his interrupted masturbation session, perhaps it was knowing that he was still alive, or perhaps he knew deep down that now was the moment when he could actually do this, kiss another man, for the first time. He tentatively leaned in close and their lips brushed up against each other.
The stranger let go of his pyjamas and grabbed his blond hair and kissed back with a savage desire. Arthur's cock was hard again. Abruptly, the stranger pushed him away and Arthur sat down on his bed, hurt. The stranger was breathing hard now.
“Look, let's get you out of here. Get dressed and I'll meet you outside around the back in ten.” He went over to the window and looked out. Satisfied, the stranger effortlessly picked up the body and let it drop to the ground outside. Arthur noticed that his favourite pen had been sticking out of the man's left eye socket.
He gulped. “S_sir?”
The stranger turned as he went to where the body had gone, a questioning look on his face.
“What's your name, sir?”
“It's Merlin, Arthur. Now hurry up, there maybe more of them. I don't think so, but we have to think the worst. Use the fire exit and be very quiet. Know that I'll always be around to protect you.” The stranger waited for Arthur to nod his head and then silently left.
Arthur rushed to put his jeans and sweater on. He stuffed his back pack with spare clothes, his still workable laptop and a few hygiene essentials. He did not stop to think. He dared not stop and think, otherwise he would have done the sensible thing and gone straight to the headmaster.
What stopped him? The fading tingling feeling on his lips. Arthur so wanted to have that feeling back.