[Fic] something more than this desperation (pt. 1) - for itachitachi
Title: something more than this desperation
Author: Anonymous
Recipient: itachitachi
Pairing(s)/Character(s): Merlin/Arthur, vague Gwen/Morgana
Warnings: A whole lot of sappy schmoop. That's all this thing is really.
Spoilers: None
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: ~12 800
Summary: Arthur's adventures through (a) internet dating and (b) love.
Author's Note: A huge thank you to my brilliant beta Y who put up with my crazy and insecure flailing and my awesome flist who held me and cheerled on demand. Title snitched from Richard Siken's poem Litany in Which Certain Things Are Crossed Out which I do not own (but is great so you should probably go check it out.) Everything I know about London comes from googling and Wikipedia so I apologise profusely for any and all errors in advance.
Disclaimer: This is a work of fanfiction - none of this ever happened. No copyright infringement is intended. No profit is made from this work. Please observe your local laws with regards to the age-limit and content of this work.
To: a.pendragon@camelotindustries.com
From: m.lefay@camelotpublications.com
Subject: CALL ME!
Look what I did for you
findemeamate.com/swordmaster21
No need to thank me.
Love,
Morgana
*
‘You did what?’ Arthur yelled into the phone, causing the poor receptionist outside his office to jump.
‘Revenge, brother dearest,’ she said and Arthur could hear the malicious smile in her voice. ‘For ratting me out last Christmas.’
‘You ran away to Spain,’ Arthur snapped. ‘You of all people should know how unbearable father is to deal with during the holiday season. I couldn’t stand two whole months alone with him.’
‘And you should know by now that I am not a fan of tattlers,’ Morgana replied tartly. ‘Now, I have work to be doing so if you’ll excuse me-’
‘Really Morgana?’ Arthur asked, reading the email again. ‘Sword master?’
‘I didn’t have a lot of time,’ she countered. ‘I do have a magazine to run you know.’
Arthur was about to say something cutting when he noticed the number of hits on the page.
‘The password Morgana,’ Arthur pleaded. ‘Please, so I can take the horrible thing down.’
‘Sorry Arthur,’ she said unapologetically. ‘I can’t edit it once it’s been published. It’s something in the registration clause about keeping clients honest. And I really do have to run. I’ll see you tonight for dinner.’ And with that she hung up.
Arthur threw a paperclip across the room in rage (he’d learnt the hard way that a stapler was capable of shattering glass if thrown hard enough). Staring at his computer screen morosely, Arthur sighed. He’d just have to fix this mess himself.
*
The address of findmeamate.com was a post office box in the city, which obviously was no use to Arthur whatsoever. The CEO of the company though, someone amusingly named Merlin Emrys, was listed on the website so with the help of his receptionist and a nifty cab driver Arthur found himself outside a terrace in Dartmouth Park.
He’d thought about it in the car and whichever way he played it, Arthur could not seem to make his argument with his stepsister sound anything less than petty. ‘Oh, my stepsister is just a vindictive bitch who’s mad because I got her stuck with the family for the holidays,’ seemed a bit harsh but it would have to do. He figured that he would just tell the truth and ask nicely if the profile could please be taken down and that would be that. This Merlin person sounded like he was a perfectly reasonable person.
Apprehensive for some reason, Arthur steeled his resolve and marched up to the doorbell. Instead of the usual noise, an obnoxious song about parties in the USA shrilled throughout the house. After a few moments, bleary eyed man opened the door with a yawn.
‘Yeah?’ he said, running a hand through his messy dark hair.
‘I’m looking for Mr Emrys,’ Arthur said politely, trying not to stare at the vast expanse of collarbone exposed by the other man’s stretched shirt.
‘That’s me, Merlin,’ he said. Arthur looked at him disbelievingly.
‘Are you having me on?’ Arthur asked, taking in the lack of shoes, the sweatpants that hung off his skinny hips and the piece of cornflake precariously hanging at the corner of his rather lush looking mouth. Leaning against the frame of the door, one arm rubbing the back of his neck casually, Merlin did not look much of an entrepreneur. Arthur, in his slate grey suit and pressed shirt, definitely knew what CEOs were supposed to look like and Merlin did not fit the bill, not even close.
‘Er, no?’ Merlin replied. Arthur continued to stare. The man appeared to become self conscious, tugging his sleeves down over his fingers. ‘Look,’ he said. ‘I’m not interested in whatever you’re selling; you might try the Robertsons down the road. They love all that gimmicky infomercial stuff.’
Arthur shook his head quickly. ‘No, I’m not a salesman. I’m here about your website.’
Merlin crossed his arms and narrowed his eyes. ‘It’s totally legit. I operate without an office because it’s cost effective and I never need to hire more than two employees. I’ve got registration papers and tax returns and everything.’
Arthur almost laughed. ‘I’m not here about your business practices,’ he said, ‘I’ve got a profile on the site and I want you to remove it. Arthur Pendragon.’
Merlin raised an eyebrow. ‘You signed up to my website?’ he asked speculatively.
‘It was my sister’s idea of a cruel joke,’ Arthur told him. Merlin’s mouth twitched and he stepped back into the house.
‘Come into my office then,’ he said with the sweep of an arm which made his shirt ride up a little, revealing the smooth looking span of skin around his navel. Arthur glanced at it, then up and down the street, and followed him in.
‘Sorry about the mess,’ Merlin said apologetically over his shoulder, kicking discarded clothes and shopping bags out of their way as they manoeuvred through a narrow hallway. ‘I rarely get any actual visit-um-visiting clients, since the whole company is run online.’
Arthur was starting to get a little claustrophobic in the tiny hallway before the house branched out into a generous study. One whole wall was lined with shelves of books, some expensive leather-bound tomes, others shiny new manuals, but it was worn paperbacks that filled the majority of them. A large window offered the view of a prospering garden and most of the remaining space was taken up by desks which catered for the slim silver laptop and two desktops computers that were humming quietly. Another door off the office stood open, revealing several filing cabinets and an old television set.
Merlin shoved a bunch of folders off the only chair in the room and gestured for Arthur to sit. He pushed what looked like a month’s worth of take-away menus to one side and leaned back casually against the desk, crossing his legs at the ankle and drumming his long, elegant fingers on the tabletop.
‘So, what did you want me to do for you?’ he asked with a grin that said this was probably the most amusing thing that had happened to him this month.
Arthur explained the fiasco quickly and gave Merlin a beseeching look. ‘I’m a successful businessman. I’m the son of a multi-billionaire. If it ever gets out that I’ve been listed on an internet dating site, people will think that I’m-’
‘What?’ Merlin interrupted, a little annoyance creeping into his tone. ‘Busy? Lonely? Looking for a meaningful connection based on more than just first impressions?’
‘Desperate,’ Arthur concluded.
Merlin was affronted. ‘Is that what you think of the site?’
‘Well...’ Arthur began, not sure what had happened to his plan of rational explanation.
‘I’ll have you know that all important client information is kept strictly confidential.’ Merlin strolled over to one of the desktops, turning his back on the other man. After a few clicks and keystrokes, he stood back and pointed at the screen. Faces were flashing rapidly while a green cursor highlighted words such as ‘favourite dip’ and ‘shoe size’.
‘This is the program I designed, it’s called the DRAGON and it took me three years to get all the coding right.’ Merlin explained. ‘It has a specially designed algorithm that statistically matches up a broad range of features that I input and spits out the closest match in the database. ’
Arthur examined the bright pink interface and couldn’t help the scoff that escaped his throat.
‘Hey! I never introduce matches with anything lower than a .90 compatibility rate. And I’ll have you know, I have a 99.7% success rate. ’
‘Not a hundred then?’ Arthur couldn’t help asking.
Merlin’s face became serious. ‘No one can ever be completely certain about something like this,’ he said lightly, a distant look crossing his features. ‘That’s what makes it all the more fun!’ Merlin said, an eager smile breaking out.
A strangled sort noise came from Arthur’s throat. He was going to have to rethink that ‘reasonable person’ idea. Merlin was clearly a hopeless case. A romantic idealist. Arthur had had those notions stamped out of him years ago, when Uther had first started grooming him to become the heir to the Pendragon Empire. Or at least, he was supposed to have. No emotional involvement was Uther’s secret motto.
‘Yes, that’s all well and good but I’m not really looking for a soul mate,’ Arthur explained. ‘I just want my name off the site.’
Merlin gave him a curious look ‘Because you’re not single?’
‘No,’ Arthur replied.
‘Because you’re not looking?’
‘No...’
‘Because you’re not interested?’
‘No, but-’
‘And how long have you been alone for?’ Merlin asked.
‘My whole life.’ Arthur frowned. Where had that come from? His mouth seemed to have a mind of its own because he honestly couldn’t remember telling it to say that. Merlin’s smile was triumphant which filled Arthur with a sense of imminent dread.
‘You’re going to be my personal mission,’ Merlin declared with a grin
‘What?’
‘I’m going to find you your soul mate.’
*
Merlin wasn’t sure if dragging Arthur Pendragon (Arthur Pendragon, as in one of Forbe’s 25 under 25 and two time cover of Time magazine, Arthur Pendragon) up into a bedroom gave off quite the right impression, but he really was going to be a tough one to convince so there was no other option. And Arthur didn’t seem to be complaining all that much anyway. Hoping that he’d remembered to leave the window open that morning to air out that garlic smell, Merlin flipped on the lights to the guest bedroom, which was really more of a second workspace than anything. He heard Arthur’s soft gasp behind him.
‘What is this?’ Arthur asked inquisitively, moving closer to a wall plastered with pictures of couples.
‘My success wall,’ Merlin said proudly. He plucked one of the more recent photographs from the wall and flipped it over into Arthur’s hands. Arthur read the back (Thanks so much Merlin! We’re 5 years and counting, all down to you mate!-Denise and Landon Grayfield’) and looked back up at the wall in astonishment.
‘There are two hundred and seventy eight couples there,’ Merlin added quietly. His eyes couldn’t help but stray to one photo in particular while Arthur roamed up and down the room, examining the pictures at random.
Arthur was intrigued. Was a company built on something as volatile as the human need for companionship really so viable? There was a part of him which was eager to know how profitable this match-making industry was but a bigger part of him was more fascinated with the look that seemed to feature on all these people’s faces. It was something more than simple lust or attraction; Arthur might have called it love, if he actually believed in the concept.
‘Believe me now?’ Merlin asked smugly.
‘This doesn’t prove anything,’ Arthur replied, shocked out of his reverie. ‘You could work in a photo booth and just steal all these photographs.’
‘Me? Steal?’ Merlin said, aghast. ‘Now you’ve accused me of being a fraud and a thief.’
Arthur became remorseful after a glance at Merlin’s wounded face. ‘I’m sorry, I apologise. That was out of line.’ He was about to start how the whole thing was a fraudulent impersonation and that there would be compensation when their lawyers managed to sort out the debacle out but Merlin seemed to read his mind.
‘Nope.’ Merlin said cheerfully. ‘The only way I’ll forgive you is if you let me prove just how well my system actually works. Your sister’s already paid for your package, so technically we’ve got already got a contract. Now all you’ve got to do is give me permission.’
‘I don’t know-’
‘Uh uh,’ Merlin chided. ‘There are no ifs or buts about it. You have to trust me on this. It’s either a yes or a no.’
Arthur took one look at Merlin’s eager face. There was an enthusiasm there that was catching, or it possibly have been Merlin’s charmingly infectious smile, he wasn’t sure.
‘There’s something about you Merlin...’ Arthur said and Merlin took that as consent.
*
Merlin got to work immediately. He shooed Arthur out of his house (‘my office’) to get started on the personal search for Arthur’s soul mate (‘The One,’ Merlin corrects him. Arthur tried to restrain himself but he has to point out here that Merlin sounds like such a girl) and Arthur traipsed back to his corporate office to try and focus on plans for the Camelot Industries’ plan to expand into the construction sector.
At six o’clock, Arthur sent his receptionist home and stretched his back. Lounging back in his chair, he swivelled round to the floor to ceiling window and stared out at the city. Imagine, he thought. There are over seven million people in London and right now Merlin is trying to find me just one. Arthur couldn’t tell if he should applaud or pity the poor bastard. Laughing a little, he took one final glance at the city lights and set off for his dinner with Morgana.
*
Morgana’s laughter lasted for a good ten minutes. It was turning slightly manic before Arthur even had the chance to shoosh her and the waiters, who had eyed the low cut of her dress appreciatively when she first entered, were beginning to look anxious and had begun avoiding their table.
‘You have a strange way of ‘fixing things’,’ she finally said, sipping from her wine glass and trying to keep from guffawing.
Arthur ordered another bottle of wine.
‘I mean think about it,’ Morgana said, poking at her ravioli. ‘You go to the guy to get a delete button pressed and instead you find yourself with a personal cupid. It’s crazy.’
Arthur stared moodily at his steak. ‘This is your fault remember.’
She continued as though he hadn’t spoken. ‘You could have anyone you want. Anyone, at the drop of a hat. With a personal net worth of fifty million, who couldn’t really. But you think that this guy, who operates out of his living room, can find you someone to spend the rest of your life with?’
‘I never said that,’ Arthur argued. Morgana continued to look unimpressed. ‘Call it a social experiment,’ he said. ‘Camelot Industries is always looking for new markets to branch into and this seems to be a beneficial one. Did you know that some elite businesses charge over fourteen thousand pounds for their services?’
Morgana smirked over her wine glass as she watched her brother stab his steak with an unusual gusto. ‘Getting a bit defensive there, brother dearest.’
Arthur scowled. ‘I’m just looking into a business opportunity.’
‘Of course you are.’
*
‘Arthur Pendragon?’ Gwen asked in an astonished voice. Merlin nodded dolefully. ‘And you promised him what?’
‘That I’d find his soul mate.’
Gwen’s eyebrows came together. ‘Well, I wouldn’t have used the term ‘soul mate’ but is that going to be a problem?’ she asked, nonplussed.
‘Yes!’ Merlin exclaimed. ‘My powers don’t seem to work on him. There’s like this giant mental block in that pretty head of his and I can’t seem to get any reading off him at all. None!’
‘How on earth are you going to pull this off then? ’ she asked with wide eyes.
‘I don’t know,’ Merlin moaned, falling backwards into his couch as Gwen went to make him a cup of tea. ‘I just, he was there and I thought he was a salesman but he wasn’t and then he thought the site sounded desperate so I showed him the old program and the wall and he called me a thief and then I told him.’
‘Wait, he called you a thief? Why didn’t you kick his backside to the curb?’ Gwen called indignantly from the kitchen.
‘I don’t know!’ Merlin sighed. ‘He-I- oh, honestly. I really don’t know. I must have momentarily gone mad. That’s it. He was being such a sceptic and I got swept up in selling the damn idea and he had such lovely eyes. I’m doomed. He’s going to sue me for fraud and I’ll go bankrupt and have to live in the streets or your laundry room Gwen.’
A warm mug was placed in his hands as Gwen sat on the floor, pulling the morning newspaper towards her and making comforting cooing noises while patting Merlin’s knee. Merlin took a large sip, burnt his tongue and placed the cup on the coffee table. They sat in silence for a while, Gwen completing the crossword and Merlin clutching a cushion to his face.
‘Well, what now?’ she asked finally, after Merlin had stopped trying to suffocate himself.
‘I guess I’ll just have to wing it and pray someone close to compatible walks into the picture,’ Merlin said in a muffled voice.
Gwen’s eyes crinkled in surprise. ‘But I thought you said the new script for the program wasn’t completely finished yet?’
‘It’s not.’ Merlin groaned. ‘I’ll just have to do this the old fashioned way.’
*
Merlin spent several days skimming through profiles, opening his mind and searching. Usually his magic would nudge him in the right direction, towards someone compatible, and he would get a flash of feeling that told him whether or not the relationship would have sticking power but with Arthur’s details in the mix, Merlin seemed to keep reaching a mental block. Magical match making wasn’t the only power Merlin had, there was the usual moving-things-with-his-mind and other assorted novelties, but this gift was the one which had flared up during his teenage years and refused to let his life go in any other direction.
It was how he’d met Will too. Running round uni setting people up on dates and trying to hide that glow in his eyes as he glimpsed into their futures, Will had been the only one paying attention to him instead of his 'knack’ for getting people together right . It was Will’s idea to set up the site, for a lark in the beginning but after he wrote a decent program (with only a 42% rate of error), and with Merlin’s extra abilities, the thing shot off the ground. They’d made enough to pay off all their student loans in the first year.
Merlin slumped tiredly at his desk and stared blankly at the computer screen. He blinked at the DRAGON program, the one they hadn’t actually finished writing together, and then at Will’s old version, the one he hadn’t touched since the funeral when Gwen held his arms behind his back and told him he’d regret it later as he sobbed loudly into her shirt.
Sighing, Merlin typed in the password and ran the program with Arthur’s details. A few minutes later, the program offered seven hits. He smiled and dialled Arthur’s number.
‘Hey, it’s Merlin,’ he said cheerfully. ‘I’ve got a date for you.’
*
Arthur fidgeted with his tie.
‘Oh, stop it.’ Morgana ordered. ‘You look perfectly fine.’
Arthur was somewhat surprised at his stepsister’s presence. After all, she’d scoffed at the whole match making idea yet still agreed to be Arthur’s contingency plan, in case the date turned out to be truly awful. They were sitting in the restaurant Merlin had chosen, waiting at the bar till the date arrived, and Arthur was trying to resist the urge to drink himself into a stupor. He couldn’t recall the last time he’d actually been on a date. There had been a few short trysts of course, but those never really seemed to require getting to know the other person, so he assumed it was probably sometime back during Business College. What was her name? Jenny? Or maybe it was Jane. Anyway, it’d been an easy break up and he’d been too busy after that, working his way up through the ranks of his father’s company and trying to prove that he was something more than his surname.
Morgana nudged him with the thin heel of her expensive shoes and tilted her head towards the door. A tall, well built man in a sharp suit and a red tie walked in. He vaguely resembled the picture Merlin had emailed him but there was a slickness to him in person that Arthur didn’t find very welcoming. Arthur reluctantly left the comfort of his barstool and ambled over to the man.
‘Valiant?’ he asked politely.
The man turned and gave Arthur a lecherous wink. ‘That I am,’ he replied and guided Arthur to their table.
*
Morgana had given up pretending not to be interested in her brother’s date when she realised she was not the only one watching him. From her place at the bar, she had a good view of the open floored restaurant and there, seated at a table tucked away near the kitchens, was a couple hiding behind the tall menus. One of them, a pretty dark-skinned woman, was trying in vain to muffle her giggles. The other was a man with the most gorgeous cheekbones Morgana had ever seen and a mess of unruly dark hair that he kept running his hand through in anxiety.
Morgana picked up her drink and went to investigate. The couple payed no attention as she approached their table. She heard the man whisper, ‘why did I never learn to read lips?’
‘You tried remember? But you kept getting distracted and making out with your instructor instead,’ the girl informed him.
‘Oh yeah.’
Morgana stood in direct line of their view. She was amused to watch their gazes as they slid slowly up from her pumps to her perfectly curled hair.
‘Uh, sorry. Do you mind moving?’ the man asked.
‘I will,’ Morgana said courteously, ‘after you explain what you’re doing spying on my brother.’
‘I’m Merlin,’ he answered distractedly before doing a double take. ‘Brother? You’re the vindictive stepsister?’ he asked in amazement.
‘Did you expect more warts?’ Morgana asked amusedly.
‘No, he means to say that he didn’t realise you were so beautiful.’ Gwen cut in before blushing. ‘I mean, that he finds you attractive, not that I do-that’s not to say that you’re not because you are-’
Arthur chose that moment to glance over at their side of the room, causing Merlin to take Morgana’s arm and tug her down behind their wall of menus. Morgana landed sprawled across Gwen’s lap. The other woman smiled down at her, a guileless, genuine smile. One she hadn’t had the pleasure of being graced with for a long time.
‘Sorry,’ she said, gently helping Morgana off her legs and into the booth. And that was how Morgana ended up sandwiched between Merlin and Gwen, spying on Arthur and his first disastrous date.
*
Morgana, the traitor, had disappeared from her barstool and left Arthur on his own with Valiant who turned out to be a boring, self-centred schmuck. Arthur had started a drinking game with himself. Every time Valiant mentioned his pet snakes, he let himself take a drink. For every mention of his pet snakes that sounded like a euphemism, Arthur let himself have two. Whenever the conversation strayed into snake anatomy, Arthur ordered a new beer.
Valiant didn’t seem to mind too much, he himself seemed on his way to ragingly drunk, considering that he was on his fifth vodka and tonic. Arthur took another gulp of his beer just for fun.
‘And then I said to him, you call me a cheat to my face and I’ll pummel yours-’ Valiant was saying. Arthur thought it might be a story about boxing but it could easily have been a conversation about snake racing, he wasn’t quite sure. Glancing at his watch, then at the waitress who was supposed to have delivered their food twenty minutes ago, Arthur began mentally preparing rude names he was going to use on Merlin the next time they met.
It was then that Valiant’s phone rang.
Arthur drummed his fingers lightly on the table, relieved at this reprieve from Valiant’s mind-numbing conversational skills. He looked around, trying to spot Morgana but she was nowhere to be seen. Hoping that at least the food would be worth it, Arthur glanced towards the kitchen, frowning at a couple of teenagers being silly with their menus and giggling in a corner table. Valiant was standing and shrugging on his coat when Arthur’s attention returned to his own date.
‘Sorry,’ the other man was saying, sounding genuinely remorseful. ‘Accident with Pinky, one of my eldest.’
Arthur nodded and pretended he knew who Pinky was. Oh wait, was it a snake? Arthur blinked and decided that maybe he’d had a bit too much to drink.
Valiant left a couple of bills for the cheque and smiled. ‘This was nice. Call me sometime yeah?’ he added, taking Arthur’s hand and slipping a piece of paper to him.
‘Yeah,’ Arthur said distractedly, looking around for Morgana so he could leave. He found her, sneaking out from a booth near the kitchens, tidying her skewed dress and mussed hair. She had a silly grin on her face too which led Arthur to believe that she’d ditched him to have illicit affairs of her own.
‘Where have you been?’ he demanded, not sure that he really wanted to know.
‘Making some new friends,’ she said elusively. ‘You look like you had a wretched time.’
Arthur rolled his eyes. ‘He kept talking about his pet snakes. Like they were his children or something.’
Morgana waggled her eyebrows. ‘His pet snake huh?’
‘Don’t be obscene,’ Arthur scowled, signalling the driver to come round. ‘He was just a bore, that’s all.’
To his annoyance, Morgana seemed to be in a good mood. Much better than she should have been after being dragged along as a wingman on his date, even if she had managed to corner someone in the back for a quick shag.
‘Who are these new friends of yours then,’ Arthur questioned as he helped her into the car.
‘Oh, I met this lovely girl named Gwen.’ Arthur made a noncommittal noise and Morgana grinned. ‘And her dinner partner, Merlin.’ At this, Arthur spluttered and stared at her. ‘He really has a beautiful bone structure,’ she added as an afterthought. Arthur nodded in agreement before catching himself.
‘Merlin was there watching?’ Arthur huffed indignantly. His eyes widened. ‘You were all spying on me!’
‘ 'Spying’ is a little harsh. We were just keeping an eye out for you. Making sure he wasn’t a serial killer or anything you know.’
‘So where were you when I was being bored to death?’
Morgana smirked. ‘You need the experience Arthur. Kiss a few toads you know.’
Arthur glowered at her and wound down his window. While Morgana was busy texting, giving Merlin the post date run down he was sure, he tore Valiant’s slip of paper into tiny pieces and resigned himself to the fact that he wasn’t going to get lucky for a long time. Casually, Arthur flicked his wrist and watched sullenly as the fragments scattered on the wind.
*
To: m.emrys@gmail.com
From: a.pendragon@camelotindustries.com
Subject:
Mr Emrys,
That date was complete and utter bollocks. Try harder.
-Arthur Pendragon
To: a.pendragon@camelotindustries.com
From: m.emrys@gmail.com
Subject: Some tips?
Maybe you should try harder. Maybe read some literature on the subject.
http://www.lhj.com/relationships/marriage/romance/10-ways-to-be-a-great-date/
-M
To: m.emrys@gmail.com
From: a.pendragon@camelotindustries.com
Subject: RE: Some tips?
Some of us actually have jobs to do you know. And why are you endorsing Ladies Health Journal to me? Follow up: why do you read Ladies Health Journal? Also, I think this one suits my purposes better.
http://dating.personals.yahoo.com/singles/datingtips/11176/10-ways-to-ruin-a-first-date
To: a.pendragon@camelotindustries.com
From: m.emrys@gmail.com
Subject:RE: RE: Some tips?
Just so you know, you opened up this correspondence Mr I’m-Busy-With-Work Pendragon. And I don’t read it, I just googled. By the way, you only managed to tick off three boxes in that article so shame on you for not putting enough effort into proving me wrong.
To: m.emrys@gmail.com
From: a.pendragon@camelotindustries.com
Subject: RE: RE: RE: Some tips?
Wait, which three?
*
Merlin was sad to admit that compared to Arthur’s next few dates, Valiant had been Prince Charming. There was the girl who turned out to be a prison warden and tried to hustle Arthur after their dinner (‘She wrote receptionist on the application, I swear!) and an actor who kept asking Arthur to call him ‘Fiyero.’ There was another woman who had Arthur’s interest piqued until her face melted off and she turned out to be closer to fifty than thirty, a woman who had mistaken him for her babysitter and the man who wouldn’t speak to Arthur except in song.
Several days later, Arthur was round at Merlin’s again, confronting him about the latest horrible date which involved a customs officer who insisted on frisk searching Arthur before they could even begin dinner.
‘The first thing he said to me was ‘take your pants off!’ Arthur hollered, stabbing his pad Thai with a plastic fork and accidentally snapping it. Merlin was too busy chuckling so Arthur went to the kitchen to get his own damn cutlery.
After the second date, the prison warden one, Arthur had banned Morgana and Gwen from observing him. The two women were already becoming fast friends and together they were a terrible influence on Merlin. They distracted Arthur during dinners by laughing too loudly, no doubt at his expense, and encouraged Merlin to do ridiculous things like send Arthur on dates in rowing boats (that was how Arthur had found out about the fifty year old. The sun had been too warm and he’d had to swim back to shore after he’d seen her real face) and Arthur was sure Morgana had been behind the match who wouldn’t stop singing.
Merlin had decided that without Morgana and Gwen there to make fun of Arthur (he obviously couldn’t do it. He was a professional) there was no point really. He could get all the information from Arthur after the date. He didn’t know how, but it had turned into something of a ritual: the date would be a disaster and Arthur would storm angrily into Merlin’s terrace apartment, raving about off-centre noses or weird quirks or disturbing hobbies and then they would order take out and go over exactly what had gone wrong this time.
‘There must be something wrong with your program,’ Arthur suggested, after explaining how the date had also tried to seize his passport.
‘There isn’t,’ Merlin insisted, propping his work up against Arthur’s knees as he dominated all the couch space. He was getting slightly worried, Arthur had been through almost all of the prospective matches that Will’s program had listed.
‘There’s one more-’ Merlin began but his mobile interrupted, shrilly belting out some tune about cheerleaders and bleachers. He checked the number and frowned. ‘Sorry,’ he told Arthur, before rushing into the hallway to take the call.
Arthur sat back against the couch, stretching his feet out on the coffee table and accidentally overturning some manila envelopes that Merlin had just dropped there. As he picked them up, Arthur couldn’t help thumbing through them. They were profiles from the website, some marked ticks and others with wonky Merlin-style crosses. There was the snake guy and the prison warden, the actor and the singer. Woman-with-a-fake-face and lady with seven hundred toddlers, all marked with ticks. Strangely enough, the profile of Merlin’s friend Gwen was the last page with a tick on it; the others were all marked ‘incompatible’. As he bent to pick a stray sheet that had gotten stuck under the sofa, Arthur caught sight of a familiar photograph.
It was Sophia, the receptionist from his office. Funny, when he’d asked her to look up findmeamate.com she’d never mentioned she was also a member of the site. Arthur couldn’t really blame her though; he wouldn’t want to admit it if he’d sought relationship help online either. She looked rather pretty in her photo. The severe bun that usually held back her golden hair was gone, instead replaced by a cascade of honey coloured curls. Her smile was much less forced, charming even.
‘Huh,’ Arthur said. Glancing at Merlin who was still pacing the hallway and talking in a hushed tone with whoever was on the other line, he folded the piece of paper and tucked it into his back pocket.
‘Sorry,’ Merlin apologised again as he walked back in to find Arthur watching TV and flipping channels idly with the remote control. ‘That was my mother.’
Arthur gave him a small smile.
‘Anyway, I think I’ve figured out the problem,’ Merlin stated happily. ‘It’s you!’
Arthur looked offended. ‘There’s nothing wrong with me.’
While the twitch to Merlin’s lips said that he begged to differ, he didn’t mention it. Instead, he explained. ‘I mean your profile application. Morgana filled out your application remember?’
Arthur grimaced. ‘How could I forget?’
‘Well, that’s it then!’ Merlin bounced excitedly. ‘We just input your answers, your proper ones, and the results will be much better!’
Eagerly, Merlin practically skipped to the study, obviously delighted by his own genius, and set to work. He called out questions every so often with Arthur yelling answers back while watching a re-run of some top model show.
*
Merlin was surprised to find that he could answer a vast majority of the profile questions for Arthur without Arthur’s actual help. With the help of a handful of Morgana’s childhood stories (told over dinners when she and Merlin would accidentally stop by Gwen’s place at the same time) and the number of times (six) that Arthur had sat, moaning about everything he disliked, on Merlin’s living room floor while shovelling take-out (usually Thai because that was Arthur’s favourite) into his mouth, Merlin estimated that he had almost three quarters of the questions covered. And with Arthur still in the next room, dozing on his couch, it took almost no time at all to fill out the form.
He thought about calling Arthur into the room, so he could discover his matches first hand but looking at Arthur’s tired face, his palms pressed together and curled under his head like a small child, Merlin thought better of the idea.
When the computer program spat out only one name, one very very familiar name, Merlin was glad of his decision. He stared at the screen, at the picture, and then cursed. Stupid 60% accurate piece of junk, he thought, phoning Arthur’s driver to take him home.
*
‘I no longer need your help,’ Arthur announced triumphantly the next day.
‘Huh?’ was Merlin’s intelligent reply. He’d spent half the night, after kicking a drowsy Arthur off his couch and into the waiting car, trying to get some work done programming the DRAGON system. It kept spitting out random rubbish like ‘destiny’ and ‘coins’ when Merlin input test names (the fact that he was using his own and Arthur’s was completely irrelevant) but he was, at least, a tiny bit closer to finishing the damned thing. The day that he would no longer have to lie about that ninety-nine percent success rate was edging ever closer.
‘The soul mate thing, it’s off,’ Arthur crowed.
‘What do you mean?’ Merlin asked, sitting up straighter.
‘I told you I was capable of doing it on my own. I’ve just asked Sophia, my receptionist, out on a date. It turns out we have a lot in common and I already know I like her, since I hired her and all.’
In all honesty, Sophia had asked him out on the date, after cornering him in the copy room and sliding one stockinged foot around his leg alluringly. He wasn’t sure if it was so much a deep instant connection as much as the fact that several very important parts of his anatomy had outvoted his brain. To be perfectly honest, Arthur had been noticing her for some time now. She had been very helpful with the dating website disaster and she always had a hot cup of coffee waiting on his desk, sometimes even with a heart patterned into the froth.
Merlin frowned. ‘This sounds like a bad idea,’ he worried.
‘Trust me Merlin,’ Arthur beamed. ‘I was perfectly capable of choosing my own ‘mates’ before you and your program came along. I’ve got a good feeling about her, I was just too blind to notice before. She said she’d been waiting two months for me to notice she was interested.’
‘Two months?’ Merlin echoed. ‘Isn’t that exactly how long you’ve been listed on the site?’
‘Uh, I guess so,’ Arthur verified, distracted slightly by Sophia who was eyeing him and licking her lips through the glass door to his office.
‘Are you sure about this?’ Merlin asked, unease evident in his tone.
‘Definitely,’ Arthur nodded, watching as Sophia crossed and uncrossed her legs.
‘We’re talking about lasting connections here Arthur,’ Merlin reminded him, as though he could tell Arthur wasn’t paying attention. ‘Not just one night stands.’
‘It’s not really any of your business if I choose to have relations outside of the ones you choose for me,’ Arthur growled down the phone. As soon as the harsh words came out of his mouth, Arthur couldn’t help but imagine the woeful expression that would be gracing Merlin’s features at that very moment.
‘Of course not,’ Merlin’s voice came quietly over the line.
Arthur tugged his hair in frustration. He really hadn’t meant to sound so unkind. ‘Look, I’m sorry. I know you’re just worried about me but listen; I’ll bring her round to your place before we go out tonight. You can check her out; make sure she doesn’t have two heads, alright?’
Arthur heard Merlin sigh. ‘Alright,’ he conceded and then Arthur was left with the dial tone.
*
‘Merlin, this is Sophia.’
She looked exactly like Merlin imagined she would: tall and leggy with bright hazel eyes and a beautiful figure. Of course, he’d seen her picture on his site before but Merlin could honestly say it was the first time he’d ever been disappointed that someone was prettier than their picture.
‘Hi,’ Merlin said courteously, holding out a hand. She grasped it and quickly let go, busy surveying Merlin’s home and looking thoroughly unimpressed. Sensing Arthur’s gaze on the two of them, Sophia exchanged her look of disdain with one of perfect civility.
‘So you’re the match-maker,’ she said indifferently.
‘Yes,’ Merlin replied. Arthur looked from one to the other and frowned at the icy stares which were being exchanged.
‘Yes,’ he repeated awkwardly. ‘So, now you’ve met and we can get on with dinner.’
‘Sure,’ Merlin replied, not taking his eyes off Sophia. The woman curled her lips into a simpering grin.
‘You boys look like you need to talk. I’ll go freshen up shall I? Which way is the bathroom?’
Merlin blinked in surprise at the sudden change in tone.
‘The door right before the study,’ Arthur answered for Merlin, giving the other man a concerned look. Once Sophia was safely out of earshot, Arthur rounded on him.
‘What is wrong with you?’
‘What?’ Merlin jumped, as though shocked out of a trance. ‘Nothing.’ He turned his clear blue gaze on Arthur and pulled a face. ‘There’s something off about that girl,’ he remarked.
‘Nonsense,’ Arthur said jovially, ‘I’ve known her almost a year. She’s the quickest typist I know.’
Merlin’s brow rose. ‘And that’s enough to get you jumping into relationships? You’re an easy one to please.’
Arthur glowered at Merlin’s tone. ‘If you’re through judging me Mr-I-match-make-people-for-a-living, I’m going to go fetch my date.’
Merlin rolled his eyes and followed him down the hall to the bathroom which stood empty. A step to the left revealed Sophia standing guiltily in the middle of Merlin’s study.
‘Honey,’ she purred, pushing Arthur’s chest gently in the direction of the door. Merlin thought he saw a flash of silver fall into Arthur’s shirt pocket but Arthur was already guiding them all out the hallway, leaving no time for Merlin to investigate. As Arthur helped Sophia into his car, she flashed a victorious smile at Merlin who stood at his door glowering.
Merlin crossed his arms and watched the car drive away, a bad feeling settling in the bottom of his stomach.
*
‘I have a bad feeling about this,’ Morgana said as she entered Gwen’s apartment twenty minutes later.
Merlin gurgled in agreement from the couch where he and Gwen were enthralled by a Hugh Grant film on the telly. Morgana toed off her heels, set down the pizza she’d collected on the way over and shoved Merlin’s feet off the couch so she had space to sit.
Gwen poured Morgana a glass of wine and Morgana gulped it down before settling against Gwen, glad that it was the weekend. Merlin glanced over at them, a kindergarten teacher and a high fashion magazine editor, and knew he hadn’t lost his knack. Gwen’s eyelids were already fluttering shut as Morgana stroked her hair absently.
‘-standing in front of a boy, asking him to love her,’ the television said.
Morgana looked over at Merlin who was all starry-eyed and intently mouthing along with the lines. She smiled and decided she might need to do some match-making of her own.
Hours passed and the three of them were splayed across each other on the couch, limbs twisted in a way that managed to be uncomfortable and pleasant at the same time. The television had moved on to late night phone-sex ads and b-grade horror movies while they snoozed but it was the buzzing of his mobile that woke Merlin.
‘Lo?’ he answered, voice deep and gruff with sleep.
‘Merlin?’ Arthur’s frustrated voice came. ‘I need a favour.’
*
The date had gone well, Arthur thought. The restaurant was nice, the conversation didn’t stall (although he did find it slightly odd that Sophia could name all his favourite novels. He wasn’t sure information that had ever come up through her receptionist duties), and when he invited her home afterwards, she pretty much jumped at the chance.
It was once they’d gotten to Arthur’s Kensington flat that went downhill.
The making out part had been easy enough. Arthur was glad to say that he managed to keep his, uh, urges, under control until they’d gotten out of the lift at least. He’d fumbled his keys but Sophia probably hadn’t noticed that because her she was already unbuttoning his jeans by that point. Stumbling in the dark, they’ made it to his bedroom alright (although Arthur suspected he’d have a few leg bruises the next morning) and he was in the middle of sliding her dress off when she untied her scarf and smiled saucily.
It must have been the two bottles of wine they’d gone through or something because the next coherent thought Arthur had was that his hands were tied to his bed and Sophia’s hands were sliding down his chest to...dip into his shirt? She plucked a flash drive, a flash drive that was definitely not his, from his shirt pocket. Then she slipped her dress back on and picked up her shoes.
‘What?’ Arthur said blankly, thoroughly confused.
‘Sorry honey, that’s all I needed.’ Sophia said, giving him one last lusty wink before sashaying out the door.
With some clever foot manoeuvring and a mouth trick he never wanted to repeat again, Arthur had managed to extract his phone from his jacket and thanked whatever deities were out there that he’d listened when the pushy salesgirl had told him touch screen phones were the way of the future.
Merlin peeked into the room tentatively, almost an hour later, and stood at the door with an amused grin as he took in the vision of Arthur half naked and pinned to his bed by silk scarves.
‘Don’t say a word,’ Arthur growled.
Merlin shrugged his shoulders and gave Arthur a placating smile, pushing his hands further into his hoodie pockets and waiting.
‘Oh fine,’ Arthur glared. ‘Just hurry up and untie me.’
‘I told you so,’ Merlin said, beaming. ‘What was she after then? Your bank accounts? A raise?’ he suggested, thoughtfully removing his shoes before he crawled onto the bed.
‘I honestly don’t know,’ Arthur said, closing his eyes and wishing he was anywhere but the present. ‘She just pulled a flash drive out of my pocket and left.’
Merlin froze, skinny-jeaned leg hovering inches away from Arthur’s chest. ‘Was it silver?’ he asked peculiarly.
‘Yes,’ Arthur answered, looking at Merlin suspiciously.
‘Hmm,’ was all Merlin would share on the subject as he set to work on the scarves.
Merlin fiddled for several minutes as Arthur made increasingly edgy noises. Merlin’s eyes danced with mirth and Arthur was sure that it was all he could do not to burst out in laughter; he could see it from that little lift of Merlin’s lips and the dimple that appeared to mock Arthur’s misfortune. After a while, Merlin sat back on his haunches and cocked his head to one side.
‘What?’ Arthur asked impatiently.
‘Well, she’s very good at tying knots that Sophia girl,’ Merlin mused.
‘Find some scissors then you idiot,’ Arthur scowled in frustration, painfully aware that his erection was in full view.
Merlin scuttled off the bed and into the bathroom where he spent several minutes going through Arthur’s vanity cabinet and drawers looking for something sharp.
‘You have nothing remotely scissor-like in your bathroom,’ he announced delightedly. ‘I’d use your razor but I’m not all that certain I wouldn’t take your hand off in the process.’
Arthur groaned and threw his head backwards against the headboard, regretting that there was a pillow there stopping him from knocking himself out.
‘I guess I’ll just try tugging again?’ Merlin proposed. He climbed back onto the bed, with a little too much vigour maybe, because he caught himself on the frame and went flying into Arthur’s chest.
‘Oof!’ Arthur said as the wind was knocked out of him. Merlin tried to pry himself carefully off Arthur but he miscalculated and his elbows hit Arthur’s ribcage instead.
‘Mer-lin,’ Arthur exhaled in annoyance. Merlin could feel Arthur’s chest rise the exertion, his heart pulsing a little too quickly underneath Merlin’s palm and laboured breaths skimming the top of Merlin’s head like a gentle breeze. He couldn’t help but trail his hand over Arthur’s exposed chest, fingers lingering a little too long, as he sat up and apologised sheepishly.
Arthur kept his eyes firmly closed as Merlin’s fingers went to work. They were cool against the skin of his wrists, rubbed raw from almost half an hour of tug of war on the losing side. He could imagine them, long and graceful, gently tugging, pulling, teasing the silk so bit by tiny bit, until it gave way. It really wasn’t helping the bulge in his boxers to be thinking those thoughts so Arthur took the time to study Merlin’s face instead. His eyes were bright with concentration and Arthur noticed a smattering of freckles across the bridge of Merlin’s nose that he had never been close enough to observe before. His bottom lip was caught in his teeth, blood rushing to the spot and colouring it an intense pink. Arthur groaned again.
‘Sorry, did I hurt you?’ Merlin asked with touching concern. Arthur shook his head, unable to form any words since all the blood was rushing away from his brain and towards other organs. Merlin smirked in amusement, not drawing his eyes away from his task but insinuating nonetheless that he knew exactly what was going on in Arthur’s head.
Arthur tried to think of non-stimulating images like freezing cold showers. Yes, cold things, he told himself. Ice and snowflakes and popsicles. Ice cream that slowly dripped down fingers on hot days and slid, cool and wet down your arm if you didn’t lick at it quick enough.
‘Stop fidgeting,’ Merlin ordered, placing a knee over Arthur’s legs.
‘Urgh,’ Arthur moaned and resigned himself to a long night.
*
‘...um, Arthur?’ Merlin’s voice seemed to come from a faraway place.
Arthur blinked sleepily, one arm curled around something soft and an agreeable sort of weight on his knees.
‘Arthur,’ Merlin prodded. Reluctantly, Arthur opened his eyes and yawned. There was Merlin, draped awkwardly across him, holding a scarf in his hands and looking pointedly at the arm curled around his waist.
Arthur cleared his throat and let go. Merlin climbed off of him and Arthur stretched out the crick in his back, wincing when he turned his wrist. He disappeared for a moment, returning with a bag of peas that looked like it had been in the freezer for over a year.
‘Put that on them,’ Merlin instructed, proffering the frozen vegetables. ‘When you passed out I started pulling a little harder so you might get some pain,’ he explained.
Arthur tipped his head back against the headboard and exhaled.
‘I give up,’ he announced as Merlin tugged on his sneakers.
‘What?’
‘I give up. No more match-making or date seeking. I’m just going to spend the rest of my life alone. Or with hookers who don’t want anything more than my money and a quick fuck.’
Merlin looked scandalised, at the language or the idea Arthur wasn’t sure.
‘How can you say that?’ he breathed, eyes going as wide as saucers. Arthur resisted the urge to sweep Merlin’s stupid hair back off his forehead and shrugged.
Finished lacing up his shoes, Merlin stood. ‘I need you to clear your schedule tomorrow,’ he said.
Arthur blinked. ‘Why?’
‘I’ve got something to show you,’ he said simply.
[ Part 2]
Author: Anonymous
Recipient: itachitachi
Pairing(s)/Character(s): Merlin/Arthur, vague Gwen/Morgana
Warnings: A whole lot of sappy schmoop. That's all this thing is really.
Spoilers: None
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: ~12 800
Summary: Arthur's adventures through (a) internet dating and (b) love.
Author's Note: A huge thank you to my brilliant beta Y who put up with my crazy and insecure flailing and my awesome flist who held me and cheerled on demand. Title snitched from Richard Siken's poem Litany in Which Certain Things Are Crossed Out which I do not own (but is great so you should probably go check it out.) Everything I know about London comes from googling and Wikipedia so I apologise profusely for any and all errors in advance.
Disclaimer: This is a work of fanfiction - none of this ever happened. No copyright infringement is intended. No profit is made from this work. Please observe your local laws with regards to the age-limit and content of this work.
To: a.pendragon@camelotindustries.com
From: m.lefay@camelotpublications.com
Subject: CALL ME!
Look what I did for you
findemeamate.com/swordmaster21
No need to thank me.
Love,
Morgana
*
‘You did what?’ Arthur yelled into the phone, causing the poor receptionist outside his office to jump.
‘Revenge, brother dearest,’ she said and Arthur could hear the malicious smile in her voice. ‘For ratting me out last Christmas.’
‘You ran away to Spain,’ Arthur snapped. ‘You of all people should know how unbearable father is to deal with during the holiday season. I couldn’t stand two whole months alone with him.’
‘And you should know by now that I am not a fan of tattlers,’ Morgana replied tartly. ‘Now, I have work to be doing so if you’ll excuse me-’
‘Really Morgana?’ Arthur asked, reading the email again. ‘Sword master?’
‘I didn’t have a lot of time,’ she countered. ‘I do have a magazine to run you know.’
Arthur was about to say something cutting when he noticed the number of hits on the page.
‘The password Morgana,’ Arthur pleaded. ‘Please, so I can take the horrible thing down.’
‘Sorry Arthur,’ she said unapologetically. ‘I can’t edit it once it’s been published. It’s something in the registration clause about keeping clients honest. And I really do have to run. I’ll see you tonight for dinner.’ And with that she hung up.
Arthur threw a paperclip across the room in rage (he’d learnt the hard way that a stapler was capable of shattering glass if thrown hard enough). Staring at his computer screen morosely, Arthur sighed. He’d just have to fix this mess himself.
*
The address of findmeamate.com was a post office box in the city, which obviously was no use to Arthur whatsoever. The CEO of the company though, someone amusingly named Merlin Emrys, was listed on the website so with the help of his receptionist and a nifty cab driver Arthur found himself outside a terrace in Dartmouth Park.
He’d thought about it in the car and whichever way he played it, Arthur could not seem to make his argument with his stepsister sound anything less than petty. ‘Oh, my stepsister is just a vindictive bitch who’s mad because I got her stuck with the family for the holidays,’ seemed a bit harsh but it would have to do. He figured that he would just tell the truth and ask nicely if the profile could please be taken down and that would be that. This Merlin person sounded like he was a perfectly reasonable person.
Apprehensive for some reason, Arthur steeled his resolve and marched up to the doorbell. Instead of the usual noise, an obnoxious song about parties in the USA shrilled throughout the house. After a few moments, bleary eyed man opened the door with a yawn.
‘Yeah?’ he said, running a hand through his messy dark hair.
‘I’m looking for Mr Emrys,’ Arthur said politely, trying not to stare at the vast expanse of collarbone exposed by the other man’s stretched shirt.
‘That’s me, Merlin,’ he said. Arthur looked at him disbelievingly.
‘Are you having me on?’ Arthur asked, taking in the lack of shoes, the sweatpants that hung off his skinny hips and the piece of cornflake precariously hanging at the corner of his rather lush looking mouth. Leaning against the frame of the door, one arm rubbing the back of his neck casually, Merlin did not look much of an entrepreneur. Arthur, in his slate grey suit and pressed shirt, definitely knew what CEOs were supposed to look like and Merlin did not fit the bill, not even close.
‘Er, no?’ Merlin replied. Arthur continued to stare. The man appeared to become self conscious, tugging his sleeves down over his fingers. ‘Look,’ he said. ‘I’m not interested in whatever you’re selling; you might try the Robertsons down the road. They love all that gimmicky infomercial stuff.’
Arthur shook his head quickly. ‘No, I’m not a salesman. I’m here about your website.’
Merlin crossed his arms and narrowed his eyes. ‘It’s totally legit. I operate without an office because it’s cost effective and I never need to hire more than two employees. I’ve got registration papers and tax returns and everything.’
Arthur almost laughed. ‘I’m not here about your business practices,’ he said, ‘I’ve got a profile on the site and I want you to remove it. Arthur Pendragon.’
Merlin raised an eyebrow. ‘You signed up to my website?’ he asked speculatively.
‘It was my sister’s idea of a cruel joke,’ Arthur told him. Merlin’s mouth twitched and he stepped back into the house.
‘Come into my office then,’ he said with the sweep of an arm which made his shirt ride up a little, revealing the smooth looking span of skin around his navel. Arthur glanced at it, then up and down the street, and followed him in.
‘Sorry about the mess,’ Merlin said apologetically over his shoulder, kicking discarded clothes and shopping bags out of their way as they manoeuvred through a narrow hallway. ‘I rarely get any actual visit-um-visiting clients, since the whole company is run online.’
Arthur was starting to get a little claustrophobic in the tiny hallway before the house branched out into a generous study. One whole wall was lined with shelves of books, some expensive leather-bound tomes, others shiny new manuals, but it was worn paperbacks that filled the majority of them. A large window offered the view of a prospering garden and most of the remaining space was taken up by desks which catered for the slim silver laptop and two desktops computers that were humming quietly. Another door off the office stood open, revealing several filing cabinets and an old television set.
Merlin shoved a bunch of folders off the only chair in the room and gestured for Arthur to sit. He pushed what looked like a month’s worth of take-away menus to one side and leaned back casually against the desk, crossing his legs at the ankle and drumming his long, elegant fingers on the tabletop.
‘So, what did you want me to do for you?’ he asked with a grin that said this was probably the most amusing thing that had happened to him this month.
Arthur explained the fiasco quickly and gave Merlin a beseeching look. ‘I’m a successful businessman. I’m the son of a multi-billionaire. If it ever gets out that I’ve been listed on an internet dating site, people will think that I’m-’
‘What?’ Merlin interrupted, a little annoyance creeping into his tone. ‘Busy? Lonely? Looking for a meaningful connection based on more than just first impressions?’
‘Desperate,’ Arthur concluded.
Merlin was affronted. ‘Is that what you think of the site?’
‘Well...’ Arthur began, not sure what had happened to his plan of rational explanation.
‘I’ll have you know that all important client information is kept strictly confidential.’ Merlin strolled over to one of the desktops, turning his back on the other man. After a few clicks and keystrokes, he stood back and pointed at the screen. Faces were flashing rapidly while a green cursor highlighted words such as ‘favourite dip’ and ‘shoe size’.
‘This is the program I designed, it’s called the DRAGON and it took me three years to get all the coding right.’ Merlin explained. ‘It has a specially designed algorithm that statistically matches up a broad range of features that I input and spits out the closest match in the database. ’
Arthur examined the bright pink interface and couldn’t help the scoff that escaped his throat.
‘Hey! I never introduce matches with anything lower than a .90 compatibility rate. And I’ll have you know, I have a 99.7% success rate. ’
‘Not a hundred then?’ Arthur couldn’t help asking.
Merlin’s face became serious. ‘No one can ever be completely certain about something like this,’ he said lightly, a distant look crossing his features. ‘That’s what makes it all the more fun!’ Merlin said, an eager smile breaking out.
A strangled sort noise came from Arthur’s throat. He was going to have to rethink that ‘reasonable person’ idea. Merlin was clearly a hopeless case. A romantic idealist. Arthur had had those notions stamped out of him years ago, when Uther had first started grooming him to become the heir to the Pendragon Empire. Or at least, he was supposed to have. No emotional involvement was Uther’s secret motto.
‘Yes, that’s all well and good but I’m not really looking for a soul mate,’ Arthur explained. ‘I just want my name off the site.’
Merlin gave him a curious look ‘Because you’re not single?’
‘No,’ Arthur replied.
‘Because you’re not looking?’
‘No...’
‘Because you’re not interested?’
‘No, but-’
‘And how long have you been alone for?’ Merlin asked.
‘My whole life.’ Arthur frowned. Where had that come from? His mouth seemed to have a mind of its own because he honestly couldn’t remember telling it to say that. Merlin’s smile was triumphant which filled Arthur with a sense of imminent dread.
‘You’re going to be my personal mission,’ Merlin declared with a grin
‘What?’
‘I’m going to find you your soul mate.’
*
Merlin wasn’t sure if dragging Arthur Pendragon (Arthur Pendragon, as in one of Forbe’s 25 under 25 and two time cover of Time magazine, Arthur Pendragon) up into a bedroom gave off quite the right impression, but he really was going to be a tough one to convince so there was no other option. And Arthur didn’t seem to be complaining all that much anyway. Hoping that he’d remembered to leave the window open that morning to air out that garlic smell, Merlin flipped on the lights to the guest bedroom, which was really more of a second workspace than anything. He heard Arthur’s soft gasp behind him.
‘What is this?’ Arthur asked inquisitively, moving closer to a wall plastered with pictures of couples.
‘My success wall,’ Merlin said proudly. He plucked one of the more recent photographs from the wall and flipped it over into Arthur’s hands. Arthur read the back (Thanks so much Merlin! We’re 5 years and counting, all down to you mate!-Denise and Landon Grayfield’) and looked back up at the wall in astonishment.
‘There are two hundred and seventy eight couples there,’ Merlin added quietly. His eyes couldn’t help but stray to one photo in particular while Arthur roamed up and down the room, examining the pictures at random.
Arthur was intrigued. Was a company built on something as volatile as the human need for companionship really so viable? There was a part of him which was eager to know how profitable this match-making industry was but a bigger part of him was more fascinated with the look that seemed to feature on all these people’s faces. It was something more than simple lust or attraction; Arthur might have called it love, if he actually believed in the concept.
‘Believe me now?’ Merlin asked smugly.
‘This doesn’t prove anything,’ Arthur replied, shocked out of his reverie. ‘You could work in a photo booth and just steal all these photographs.’
‘Me? Steal?’ Merlin said, aghast. ‘Now you’ve accused me of being a fraud and a thief.’
Arthur became remorseful after a glance at Merlin’s wounded face. ‘I’m sorry, I apologise. That was out of line.’ He was about to start how the whole thing was a fraudulent impersonation and that there would be compensation when their lawyers managed to sort out the debacle out but Merlin seemed to read his mind.
‘Nope.’ Merlin said cheerfully. ‘The only way I’ll forgive you is if you let me prove just how well my system actually works. Your sister’s already paid for your package, so technically we’ve got already got a contract. Now all you’ve got to do is give me permission.’
‘I don’t know-’
‘Uh uh,’ Merlin chided. ‘There are no ifs or buts about it. You have to trust me on this. It’s either a yes or a no.’
Arthur took one look at Merlin’s eager face. There was an enthusiasm there that was catching, or it possibly have been Merlin’s charmingly infectious smile, he wasn’t sure.
‘There’s something about you Merlin...’ Arthur said and Merlin took that as consent.
*
Merlin got to work immediately. He shooed Arthur out of his house (‘my office’) to get started on the personal search for Arthur’s soul mate (‘The One,’ Merlin corrects him. Arthur tried to restrain himself but he has to point out here that Merlin sounds like such a girl) and Arthur traipsed back to his corporate office to try and focus on plans for the Camelot Industries’ plan to expand into the construction sector.
At six o’clock, Arthur sent his receptionist home and stretched his back. Lounging back in his chair, he swivelled round to the floor to ceiling window and stared out at the city. Imagine, he thought. There are over seven million people in London and right now Merlin is trying to find me just one. Arthur couldn’t tell if he should applaud or pity the poor bastard. Laughing a little, he took one final glance at the city lights and set off for his dinner with Morgana.
*
Morgana’s laughter lasted for a good ten minutes. It was turning slightly manic before Arthur even had the chance to shoosh her and the waiters, who had eyed the low cut of her dress appreciatively when she first entered, were beginning to look anxious and had begun avoiding their table.
‘You have a strange way of ‘fixing things’,’ she finally said, sipping from her wine glass and trying to keep from guffawing.
Arthur ordered another bottle of wine.
‘I mean think about it,’ Morgana said, poking at her ravioli. ‘You go to the guy to get a delete button pressed and instead you find yourself with a personal cupid. It’s crazy.’
Arthur stared moodily at his steak. ‘This is your fault remember.’
She continued as though he hadn’t spoken. ‘You could have anyone you want. Anyone, at the drop of a hat. With a personal net worth of fifty million, who couldn’t really. But you think that this guy, who operates out of his living room, can find you someone to spend the rest of your life with?’
‘I never said that,’ Arthur argued. Morgana continued to look unimpressed. ‘Call it a social experiment,’ he said. ‘Camelot Industries is always looking for new markets to branch into and this seems to be a beneficial one. Did you know that some elite businesses charge over fourteen thousand pounds for their services?’
Morgana smirked over her wine glass as she watched her brother stab his steak with an unusual gusto. ‘Getting a bit defensive there, brother dearest.’
Arthur scowled. ‘I’m just looking into a business opportunity.’
‘Of course you are.’
*
‘Arthur Pendragon?’ Gwen asked in an astonished voice. Merlin nodded dolefully. ‘And you promised him what?’
‘That I’d find his soul mate.’
Gwen’s eyebrows came together. ‘Well, I wouldn’t have used the term ‘soul mate’ but is that going to be a problem?’ she asked, nonplussed.
‘Yes!’ Merlin exclaimed. ‘My powers don’t seem to work on him. There’s like this giant mental block in that pretty head of his and I can’t seem to get any reading off him at all. None!’
‘How on earth are you going to pull this off then? ’ she asked with wide eyes.
‘I don’t know,’ Merlin moaned, falling backwards into his couch as Gwen went to make him a cup of tea. ‘I just, he was there and I thought he was a salesman but he wasn’t and then he thought the site sounded desperate so I showed him the old program and the wall and he called me a thief and then I told him.’
‘Wait, he called you a thief? Why didn’t you kick his backside to the curb?’ Gwen called indignantly from the kitchen.
‘I don’t know!’ Merlin sighed. ‘He-I- oh, honestly. I really don’t know. I must have momentarily gone mad. That’s it. He was being such a sceptic and I got swept up in selling the damn idea and he had such lovely eyes. I’m doomed. He’s going to sue me for fraud and I’ll go bankrupt and have to live in the streets or your laundry room Gwen.’
A warm mug was placed in his hands as Gwen sat on the floor, pulling the morning newspaper towards her and making comforting cooing noises while patting Merlin’s knee. Merlin took a large sip, burnt his tongue and placed the cup on the coffee table. They sat in silence for a while, Gwen completing the crossword and Merlin clutching a cushion to his face.
‘Well, what now?’ she asked finally, after Merlin had stopped trying to suffocate himself.
‘I guess I’ll just have to wing it and pray someone close to compatible walks into the picture,’ Merlin said in a muffled voice.
Gwen’s eyes crinkled in surprise. ‘But I thought you said the new script for the program wasn’t completely finished yet?’
‘It’s not.’ Merlin groaned. ‘I’ll just have to do this the old fashioned way.’
*
Merlin spent several days skimming through profiles, opening his mind and searching. Usually his magic would nudge him in the right direction, towards someone compatible, and he would get a flash of feeling that told him whether or not the relationship would have sticking power but with Arthur’s details in the mix, Merlin seemed to keep reaching a mental block. Magical match making wasn’t the only power Merlin had, there was the usual moving-things-with-his-mind and other assorted novelties, but this gift was the one which had flared up during his teenage years and refused to let his life go in any other direction.
It was how he’d met Will too. Running round uni setting people up on dates and trying to hide that glow in his eyes as he glimpsed into their futures, Will had been the only one paying attention to him instead of his 'knack’ for getting people together right . It was Will’s idea to set up the site, for a lark in the beginning but after he wrote a decent program (with only a 42% rate of error), and with Merlin’s extra abilities, the thing shot off the ground. They’d made enough to pay off all their student loans in the first year.
Merlin slumped tiredly at his desk and stared blankly at the computer screen. He blinked at the DRAGON program, the one they hadn’t actually finished writing together, and then at Will’s old version, the one he hadn’t touched since the funeral when Gwen held his arms behind his back and told him he’d regret it later as he sobbed loudly into her shirt.
Sighing, Merlin typed in the password and ran the program with Arthur’s details. A few minutes later, the program offered seven hits. He smiled and dialled Arthur’s number.
‘Hey, it’s Merlin,’ he said cheerfully. ‘I’ve got a date for you.’
*
Arthur fidgeted with his tie.
‘Oh, stop it.’ Morgana ordered. ‘You look perfectly fine.’
Arthur was somewhat surprised at his stepsister’s presence. After all, she’d scoffed at the whole match making idea yet still agreed to be Arthur’s contingency plan, in case the date turned out to be truly awful. They were sitting in the restaurant Merlin had chosen, waiting at the bar till the date arrived, and Arthur was trying to resist the urge to drink himself into a stupor. He couldn’t recall the last time he’d actually been on a date. There had been a few short trysts of course, but those never really seemed to require getting to know the other person, so he assumed it was probably sometime back during Business College. What was her name? Jenny? Or maybe it was Jane. Anyway, it’d been an easy break up and he’d been too busy after that, working his way up through the ranks of his father’s company and trying to prove that he was something more than his surname.
Morgana nudged him with the thin heel of her expensive shoes and tilted her head towards the door. A tall, well built man in a sharp suit and a red tie walked in. He vaguely resembled the picture Merlin had emailed him but there was a slickness to him in person that Arthur didn’t find very welcoming. Arthur reluctantly left the comfort of his barstool and ambled over to the man.
‘Valiant?’ he asked politely.
The man turned and gave Arthur a lecherous wink. ‘That I am,’ he replied and guided Arthur to their table.
*
Morgana had given up pretending not to be interested in her brother’s date when she realised she was not the only one watching him. From her place at the bar, she had a good view of the open floored restaurant and there, seated at a table tucked away near the kitchens, was a couple hiding behind the tall menus. One of them, a pretty dark-skinned woman, was trying in vain to muffle her giggles. The other was a man with the most gorgeous cheekbones Morgana had ever seen and a mess of unruly dark hair that he kept running his hand through in anxiety.
Morgana picked up her drink and went to investigate. The couple payed no attention as she approached their table. She heard the man whisper, ‘why did I never learn to read lips?’
‘You tried remember? But you kept getting distracted and making out with your instructor instead,’ the girl informed him.
‘Oh yeah.’
Morgana stood in direct line of their view. She was amused to watch their gazes as they slid slowly up from her pumps to her perfectly curled hair.
‘Uh, sorry. Do you mind moving?’ the man asked.
‘I will,’ Morgana said courteously, ‘after you explain what you’re doing spying on my brother.’
‘I’m Merlin,’ he answered distractedly before doing a double take. ‘Brother? You’re the vindictive stepsister?’ he asked in amazement.
‘Did you expect more warts?’ Morgana asked amusedly.
‘No, he means to say that he didn’t realise you were so beautiful.’ Gwen cut in before blushing. ‘I mean, that he finds you attractive, not that I do-that’s not to say that you’re not because you are-’
Arthur chose that moment to glance over at their side of the room, causing Merlin to take Morgana’s arm and tug her down behind their wall of menus. Morgana landed sprawled across Gwen’s lap. The other woman smiled down at her, a guileless, genuine smile. One she hadn’t had the pleasure of being graced with for a long time.
‘Sorry,’ she said, gently helping Morgana off her legs and into the booth. And that was how Morgana ended up sandwiched between Merlin and Gwen, spying on Arthur and his first disastrous date.
*
Morgana, the traitor, had disappeared from her barstool and left Arthur on his own with Valiant who turned out to be a boring, self-centred schmuck. Arthur had started a drinking game with himself. Every time Valiant mentioned his pet snakes, he let himself take a drink. For every mention of his pet snakes that sounded like a euphemism, Arthur let himself have two. Whenever the conversation strayed into snake anatomy, Arthur ordered a new beer.
Valiant didn’t seem to mind too much, he himself seemed on his way to ragingly drunk, considering that he was on his fifth vodka and tonic. Arthur took another gulp of his beer just for fun.
‘And then I said to him, you call me a cheat to my face and I’ll pummel yours-’ Valiant was saying. Arthur thought it might be a story about boxing but it could easily have been a conversation about snake racing, he wasn’t quite sure. Glancing at his watch, then at the waitress who was supposed to have delivered their food twenty minutes ago, Arthur began mentally preparing rude names he was going to use on Merlin the next time they met.
It was then that Valiant’s phone rang.
Arthur drummed his fingers lightly on the table, relieved at this reprieve from Valiant’s mind-numbing conversational skills. He looked around, trying to spot Morgana but she was nowhere to be seen. Hoping that at least the food would be worth it, Arthur glanced towards the kitchen, frowning at a couple of teenagers being silly with their menus and giggling in a corner table. Valiant was standing and shrugging on his coat when Arthur’s attention returned to his own date.
‘Sorry,’ the other man was saying, sounding genuinely remorseful. ‘Accident with Pinky, one of my eldest.’
Arthur nodded and pretended he knew who Pinky was. Oh wait, was it a snake? Arthur blinked and decided that maybe he’d had a bit too much to drink.
Valiant left a couple of bills for the cheque and smiled. ‘This was nice. Call me sometime yeah?’ he added, taking Arthur’s hand and slipping a piece of paper to him.
‘Yeah,’ Arthur said distractedly, looking around for Morgana so he could leave. He found her, sneaking out from a booth near the kitchens, tidying her skewed dress and mussed hair. She had a silly grin on her face too which led Arthur to believe that she’d ditched him to have illicit affairs of her own.
‘Where have you been?’ he demanded, not sure that he really wanted to know.
‘Making some new friends,’ she said elusively. ‘You look like you had a wretched time.’
Arthur rolled his eyes. ‘He kept talking about his pet snakes. Like they were his children or something.’
Morgana waggled her eyebrows. ‘His pet snake huh?’
‘Don’t be obscene,’ Arthur scowled, signalling the driver to come round. ‘He was just a bore, that’s all.’
To his annoyance, Morgana seemed to be in a good mood. Much better than she should have been after being dragged along as a wingman on his date, even if she had managed to corner someone in the back for a quick shag.
‘Who are these new friends of yours then,’ Arthur questioned as he helped her into the car.
‘Oh, I met this lovely girl named Gwen.’ Arthur made a noncommittal noise and Morgana grinned. ‘And her dinner partner, Merlin.’ At this, Arthur spluttered and stared at her. ‘He really has a beautiful bone structure,’ she added as an afterthought. Arthur nodded in agreement before catching himself.
‘Merlin was there watching?’ Arthur huffed indignantly. His eyes widened. ‘You were all spying on me!’
‘ 'Spying’ is a little harsh. We were just keeping an eye out for you. Making sure he wasn’t a serial killer or anything you know.’
‘So where were you when I was being bored to death?’
Morgana smirked. ‘You need the experience Arthur. Kiss a few toads you know.’
Arthur glowered at her and wound down his window. While Morgana was busy texting, giving Merlin the post date run down he was sure, he tore Valiant’s slip of paper into tiny pieces and resigned himself to the fact that he wasn’t going to get lucky for a long time. Casually, Arthur flicked his wrist and watched sullenly as the fragments scattered on the wind.
*
To: m.emrys@gmail.com
From: a.pendragon@camelotindustries.com
Subject:
Mr Emrys,
That date was complete and utter bollocks. Try harder.
-Arthur Pendragon
To: a.pendragon@camelotindustries.com
From: m.emrys@gmail.com
Subject: Some tips?
Maybe you should try harder. Maybe read some literature on the subject.
http://www.lhj.com/relationships/marriage/romance/10-ways-to-be-a-great-date/
-M
To: m.emrys@gmail.com
From: a.pendragon@camelotindustries.com
Subject: RE: Some tips?
Some of us actually have jobs to do you know. And why are you endorsing Ladies Health Journal to me? Follow up: why do you read Ladies Health Journal? Also, I think this one suits my purposes better.
http://dating.personals.yahoo.com/singles/datingtips/11176/10-ways-to-ruin-a-first-date
To: a.pendragon@camelotindustries.com
From: m.emrys@gmail.com
Subject:RE: RE: Some tips?
Just so you know, you opened up this correspondence Mr I’m-Busy-With-Work Pendragon. And I don’t read it, I just googled. By the way, you only managed to tick off three boxes in that article so shame on you for not putting enough effort into proving me wrong.
To: m.emrys@gmail.com
From: a.pendragon@camelotindustries.com
Subject: RE: RE: RE: Some tips?
Wait, which three?
*
Merlin was sad to admit that compared to Arthur’s next few dates, Valiant had been Prince Charming. There was the girl who turned out to be a prison warden and tried to hustle Arthur after their dinner (‘She wrote receptionist on the application, I swear!) and an actor who kept asking Arthur to call him ‘Fiyero.’ There was another woman who had Arthur’s interest piqued until her face melted off and she turned out to be closer to fifty than thirty, a woman who had mistaken him for her babysitter and the man who wouldn’t speak to Arthur except in song.
Several days later, Arthur was round at Merlin’s again, confronting him about the latest horrible date which involved a customs officer who insisted on frisk searching Arthur before they could even begin dinner.
‘The first thing he said to me was ‘take your pants off!’ Arthur hollered, stabbing his pad Thai with a plastic fork and accidentally snapping it. Merlin was too busy chuckling so Arthur went to the kitchen to get his own damn cutlery.
After the second date, the prison warden one, Arthur had banned Morgana and Gwen from observing him. The two women were already becoming fast friends and together they were a terrible influence on Merlin. They distracted Arthur during dinners by laughing too loudly, no doubt at his expense, and encouraged Merlin to do ridiculous things like send Arthur on dates in rowing boats (that was how Arthur had found out about the fifty year old. The sun had been too warm and he’d had to swim back to shore after he’d seen her real face) and Arthur was sure Morgana had been behind the match who wouldn’t stop singing.
Merlin had decided that without Morgana and Gwen there to make fun of Arthur (he obviously couldn’t do it. He was a professional) there was no point really. He could get all the information from Arthur after the date. He didn’t know how, but it had turned into something of a ritual: the date would be a disaster and Arthur would storm angrily into Merlin’s terrace apartment, raving about off-centre noses or weird quirks or disturbing hobbies and then they would order take out and go over exactly what had gone wrong this time.
‘There must be something wrong with your program,’ Arthur suggested, after explaining how the date had also tried to seize his passport.
‘There isn’t,’ Merlin insisted, propping his work up against Arthur’s knees as he dominated all the couch space. He was getting slightly worried, Arthur had been through almost all of the prospective matches that Will’s program had listed.
‘There’s one more-’ Merlin began but his mobile interrupted, shrilly belting out some tune about cheerleaders and bleachers. He checked the number and frowned. ‘Sorry,’ he told Arthur, before rushing into the hallway to take the call.
Arthur sat back against the couch, stretching his feet out on the coffee table and accidentally overturning some manila envelopes that Merlin had just dropped there. As he picked them up, Arthur couldn’t help thumbing through them. They were profiles from the website, some marked ticks and others with wonky Merlin-style crosses. There was the snake guy and the prison warden, the actor and the singer. Woman-with-a-fake-face and lady with seven hundred toddlers, all marked with ticks. Strangely enough, the profile of Merlin’s friend Gwen was the last page with a tick on it; the others were all marked ‘incompatible’. As he bent to pick a stray sheet that had gotten stuck under the sofa, Arthur caught sight of a familiar photograph.
It was Sophia, the receptionist from his office. Funny, when he’d asked her to look up findmeamate.com she’d never mentioned she was also a member of the site. Arthur couldn’t really blame her though; he wouldn’t want to admit it if he’d sought relationship help online either. She looked rather pretty in her photo. The severe bun that usually held back her golden hair was gone, instead replaced by a cascade of honey coloured curls. Her smile was much less forced, charming even.
‘Huh,’ Arthur said. Glancing at Merlin who was still pacing the hallway and talking in a hushed tone with whoever was on the other line, he folded the piece of paper and tucked it into his back pocket.
‘Sorry,’ Merlin apologised again as he walked back in to find Arthur watching TV and flipping channels idly with the remote control. ‘That was my mother.’
Arthur gave him a small smile.
‘Anyway, I think I’ve figured out the problem,’ Merlin stated happily. ‘It’s you!’
Arthur looked offended. ‘There’s nothing wrong with me.’
While the twitch to Merlin’s lips said that he begged to differ, he didn’t mention it. Instead, he explained. ‘I mean your profile application. Morgana filled out your application remember?’
Arthur grimaced. ‘How could I forget?’
‘Well, that’s it then!’ Merlin bounced excitedly. ‘We just input your answers, your proper ones, and the results will be much better!’
Eagerly, Merlin practically skipped to the study, obviously delighted by his own genius, and set to work. He called out questions every so often with Arthur yelling answers back while watching a re-run of some top model show.
*
Merlin was surprised to find that he could answer a vast majority of the profile questions for Arthur without Arthur’s actual help. With the help of a handful of Morgana’s childhood stories (told over dinners when she and Merlin would accidentally stop by Gwen’s place at the same time) and the number of times (six) that Arthur had sat, moaning about everything he disliked, on Merlin’s living room floor while shovelling take-out (usually Thai because that was Arthur’s favourite) into his mouth, Merlin estimated that he had almost three quarters of the questions covered. And with Arthur still in the next room, dozing on his couch, it took almost no time at all to fill out the form.
He thought about calling Arthur into the room, so he could discover his matches first hand but looking at Arthur’s tired face, his palms pressed together and curled under his head like a small child, Merlin thought better of the idea.
When the computer program spat out only one name, one very very familiar name, Merlin was glad of his decision. He stared at the screen, at the picture, and then cursed. Stupid 60% accurate piece of junk, he thought, phoning Arthur’s driver to take him home.
*
‘I no longer need your help,’ Arthur announced triumphantly the next day.
‘Huh?’ was Merlin’s intelligent reply. He’d spent half the night, after kicking a drowsy Arthur off his couch and into the waiting car, trying to get some work done programming the DRAGON system. It kept spitting out random rubbish like ‘destiny’ and ‘coins’ when Merlin input test names (the fact that he was using his own and Arthur’s was completely irrelevant) but he was, at least, a tiny bit closer to finishing the damned thing. The day that he would no longer have to lie about that ninety-nine percent success rate was edging ever closer.
‘The soul mate thing, it’s off,’ Arthur crowed.
‘What do you mean?’ Merlin asked, sitting up straighter.
‘I told you I was capable of doing it on my own. I’ve just asked Sophia, my receptionist, out on a date. It turns out we have a lot in common and I already know I like her, since I hired her and all.’
In all honesty, Sophia had asked him out on the date, after cornering him in the copy room and sliding one stockinged foot around his leg alluringly. He wasn’t sure if it was so much a deep instant connection as much as the fact that several very important parts of his anatomy had outvoted his brain. To be perfectly honest, Arthur had been noticing her for some time now. She had been very helpful with the dating website disaster and she always had a hot cup of coffee waiting on his desk, sometimes even with a heart patterned into the froth.
Merlin frowned. ‘This sounds like a bad idea,’ he worried.
‘Trust me Merlin,’ Arthur beamed. ‘I was perfectly capable of choosing my own ‘mates’ before you and your program came along. I’ve got a good feeling about her, I was just too blind to notice before. She said she’d been waiting two months for me to notice she was interested.’
‘Two months?’ Merlin echoed. ‘Isn’t that exactly how long you’ve been listed on the site?’
‘Uh, I guess so,’ Arthur verified, distracted slightly by Sophia who was eyeing him and licking her lips through the glass door to his office.
‘Are you sure about this?’ Merlin asked, unease evident in his tone.
‘Definitely,’ Arthur nodded, watching as Sophia crossed and uncrossed her legs.
‘We’re talking about lasting connections here Arthur,’ Merlin reminded him, as though he could tell Arthur wasn’t paying attention. ‘Not just one night stands.’
‘It’s not really any of your business if I choose to have relations outside of the ones you choose for me,’ Arthur growled down the phone. As soon as the harsh words came out of his mouth, Arthur couldn’t help but imagine the woeful expression that would be gracing Merlin’s features at that very moment.
‘Of course not,’ Merlin’s voice came quietly over the line.
Arthur tugged his hair in frustration. He really hadn’t meant to sound so unkind. ‘Look, I’m sorry. I know you’re just worried about me but listen; I’ll bring her round to your place before we go out tonight. You can check her out; make sure she doesn’t have two heads, alright?’
Arthur heard Merlin sigh. ‘Alright,’ he conceded and then Arthur was left with the dial tone.
*
‘Merlin, this is Sophia.’
She looked exactly like Merlin imagined she would: tall and leggy with bright hazel eyes and a beautiful figure. Of course, he’d seen her picture on his site before but Merlin could honestly say it was the first time he’d ever been disappointed that someone was prettier than their picture.
‘Hi,’ Merlin said courteously, holding out a hand. She grasped it and quickly let go, busy surveying Merlin’s home and looking thoroughly unimpressed. Sensing Arthur’s gaze on the two of them, Sophia exchanged her look of disdain with one of perfect civility.
‘So you’re the match-maker,’ she said indifferently.
‘Yes,’ Merlin replied. Arthur looked from one to the other and frowned at the icy stares which were being exchanged.
‘Yes,’ he repeated awkwardly. ‘So, now you’ve met and we can get on with dinner.’
‘Sure,’ Merlin replied, not taking his eyes off Sophia. The woman curled her lips into a simpering grin.
‘You boys look like you need to talk. I’ll go freshen up shall I? Which way is the bathroom?’
Merlin blinked in surprise at the sudden change in tone.
‘The door right before the study,’ Arthur answered for Merlin, giving the other man a concerned look. Once Sophia was safely out of earshot, Arthur rounded on him.
‘What is wrong with you?’
‘What?’ Merlin jumped, as though shocked out of a trance. ‘Nothing.’ He turned his clear blue gaze on Arthur and pulled a face. ‘There’s something off about that girl,’ he remarked.
‘Nonsense,’ Arthur said jovially, ‘I’ve known her almost a year. She’s the quickest typist I know.’
Merlin’s brow rose. ‘And that’s enough to get you jumping into relationships? You’re an easy one to please.’
Arthur glowered at Merlin’s tone. ‘If you’re through judging me Mr-I-match-make-people-for-a-living, I’m going to go fetch my date.’
Merlin rolled his eyes and followed him down the hall to the bathroom which stood empty. A step to the left revealed Sophia standing guiltily in the middle of Merlin’s study.
‘Honey,’ she purred, pushing Arthur’s chest gently in the direction of the door. Merlin thought he saw a flash of silver fall into Arthur’s shirt pocket but Arthur was already guiding them all out the hallway, leaving no time for Merlin to investigate. As Arthur helped Sophia into his car, she flashed a victorious smile at Merlin who stood at his door glowering.
Merlin crossed his arms and watched the car drive away, a bad feeling settling in the bottom of his stomach.
*
‘I have a bad feeling about this,’ Morgana said as she entered Gwen’s apartment twenty minutes later.
Merlin gurgled in agreement from the couch where he and Gwen were enthralled by a Hugh Grant film on the telly. Morgana toed off her heels, set down the pizza she’d collected on the way over and shoved Merlin’s feet off the couch so she had space to sit.
Gwen poured Morgana a glass of wine and Morgana gulped it down before settling against Gwen, glad that it was the weekend. Merlin glanced over at them, a kindergarten teacher and a high fashion magazine editor, and knew he hadn’t lost his knack. Gwen’s eyelids were already fluttering shut as Morgana stroked her hair absently.
‘-standing in front of a boy, asking him to love her,’ the television said.
Morgana looked over at Merlin who was all starry-eyed and intently mouthing along with the lines. She smiled and decided she might need to do some match-making of her own.
Hours passed and the three of them were splayed across each other on the couch, limbs twisted in a way that managed to be uncomfortable and pleasant at the same time. The television had moved on to late night phone-sex ads and b-grade horror movies while they snoozed but it was the buzzing of his mobile that woke Merlin.
‘Lo?’ he answered, voice deep and gruff with sleep.
‘Merlin?’ Arthur’s frustrated voice came. ‘I need a favour.’
*
The date had gone well, Arthur thought. The restaurant was nice, the conversation didn’t stall (although he did find it slightly odd that Sophia could name all his favourite novels. He wasn’t sure information that had ever come up through her receptionist duties), and when he invited her home afterwards, she pretty much jumped at the chance.
It was once they’d gotten to Arthur’s Kensington flat that went downhill.
The making out part had been easy enough. Arthur was glad to say that he managed to keep his, uh, urges, under control until they’d gotten out of the lift at least. He’d fumbled his keys but Sophia probably hadn’t noticed that because her she was already unbuttoning his jeans by that point. Stumbling in the dark, they’ made it to his bedroom alright (although Arthur suspected he’d have a few leg bruises the next morning) and he was in the middle of sliding her dress off when she untied her scarf and smiled saucily.
It must have been the two bottles of wine they’d gone through or something because the next coherent thought Arthur had was that his hands were tied to his bed and Sophia’s hands were sliding down his chest to...dip into his shirt? She plucked a flash drive, a flash drive that was definitely not his, from his shirt pocket. Then she slipped her dress back on and picked up her shoes.
‘What?’ Arthur said blankly, thoroughly confused.
‘Sorry honey, that’s all I needed.’ Sophia said, giving him one last lusty wink before sashaying out the door.
With some clever foot manoeuvring and a mouth trick he never wanted to repeat again, Arthur had managed to extract his phone from his jacket and thanked whatever deities were out there that he’d listened when the pushy salesgirl had told him touch screen phones were the way of the future.
Merlin peeked into the room tentatively, almost an hour later, and stood at the door with an amused grin as he took in the vision of Arthur half naked and pinned to his bed by silk scarves.
‘Don’t say a word,’ Arthur growled.
Merlin shrugged his shoulders and gave Arthur a placating smile, pushing his hands further into his hoodie pockets and waiting.
‘Oh fine,’ Arthur glared. ‘Just hurry up and untie me.’
‘I told you so,’ Merlin said, beaming. ‘What was she after then? Your bank accounts? A raise?’ he suggested, thoughtfully removing his shoes before he crawled onto the bed.
‘I honestly don’t know,’ Arthur said, closing his eyes and wishing he was anywhere but the present. ‘She just pulled a flash drive out of my pocket and left.’
Merlin froze, skinny-jeaned leg hovering inches away from Arthur’s chest. ‘Was it silver?’ he asked peculiarly.
‘Yes,’ Arthur answered, looking at Merlin suspiciously.
‘Hmm,’ was all Merlin would share on the subject as he set to work on the scarves.
Merlin fiddled for several minutes as Arthur made increasingly edgy noises. Merlin’s eyes danced with mirth and Arthur was sure that it was all he could do not to burst out in laughter; he could see it from that little lift of Merlin’s lips and the dimple that appeared to mock Arthur’s misfortune. After a while, Merlin sat back on his haunches and cocked his head to one side.
‘What?’ Arthur asked impatiently.
‘Well, she’s very good at tying knots that Sophia girl,’ Merlin mused.
‘Find some scissors then you idiot,’ Arthur scowled in frustration, painfully aware that his erection was in full view.
Merlin scuttled off the bed and into the bathroom where he spent several minutes going through Arthur’s vanity cabinet and drawers looking for something sharp.
‘You have nothing remotely scissor-like in your bathroom,’ he announced delightedly. ‘I’d use your razor but I’m not all that certain I wouldn’t take your hand off in the process.’
Arthur groaned and threw his head backwards against the headboard, regretting that there was a pillow there stopping him from knocking himself out.
‘I guess I’ll just try tugging again?’ Merlin proposed. He climbed back onto the bed, with a little too much vigour maybe, because he caught himself on the frame and went flying into Arthur’s chest.
‘Oof!’ Arthur said as the wind was knocked out of him. Merlin tried to pry himself carefully off Arthur but he miscalculated and his elbows hit Arthur’s ribcage instead.
‘Mer-lin,’ Arthur exhaled in annoyance. Merlin could feel Arthur’s chest rise the exertion, his heart pulsing a little too quickly underneath Merlin’s palm and laboured breaths skimming the top of Merlin’s head like a gentle breeze. He couldn’t help but trail his hand over Arthur’s exposed chest, fingers lingering a little too long, as he sat up and apologised sheepishly.
Arthur kept his eyes firmly closed as Merlin’s fingers went to work. They were cool against the skin of his wrists, rubbed raw from almost half an hour of tug of war on the losing side. He could imagine them, long and graceful, gently tugging, pulling, teasing the silk so bit by tiny bit, until it gave way. It really wasn’t helping the bulge in his boxers to be thinking those thoughts so Arthur took the time to study Merlin’s face instead. His eyes were bright with concentration and Arthur noticed a smattering of freckles across the bridge of Merlin’s nose that he had never been close enough to observe before. His bottom lip was caught in his teeth, blood rushing to the spot and colouring it an intense pink. Arthur groaned again.
‘Sorry, did I hurt you?’ Merlin asked with touching concern. Arthur shook his head, unable to form any words since all the blood was rushing away from his brain and towards other organs. Merlin smirked in amusement, not drawing his eyes away from his task but insinuating nonetheless that he knew exactly what was going on in Arthur’s head.
Arthur tried to think of non-stimulating images like freezing cold showers. Yes, cold things, he told himself. Ice and snowflakes and popsicles. Ice cream that slowly dripped down fingers on hot days and slid, cool and wet down your arm if you didn’t lick at it quick enough.
‘Stop fidgeting,’ Merlin ordered, placing a knee over Arthur’s legs.
‘Urgh,’ Arthur moaned and resigned himself to a long night.
*
‘...um, Arthur?’ Merlin’s voice seemed to come from a faraway place.
Arthur blinked sleepily, one arm curled around something soft and an agreeable sort of weight on his knees.
‘Arthur,’ Merlin prodded. Reluctantly, Arthur opened his eyes and yawned. There was Merlin, draped awkwardly across him, holding a scarf in his hands and looking pointedly at the arm curled around his waist.
Arthur cleared his throat and let go. Merlin climbed off of him and Arthur stretched out the crick in his back, wincing when he turned his wrist. He disappeared for a moment, returning with a bag of peas that looked like it had been in the freezer for over a year.
‘Put that on them,’ Merlin instructed, proffering the frozen vegetables. ‘When you passed out I started pulling a little harder so you might get some pain,’ he explained.
Arthur tipped his head back against the headboard and exhaled.
‘I give up,’ he announced as Merlin tugged on his sneakers.
‘What?’
‘I give up. No more match-making or date seeking. I’m just going to spend the rest of my life alone. Or with hookers who don’t want anything more than my money and a quick fuck.’
Merlin looked scandalised, at the language or the idea Arthur wasn’t sure.
‘How can you say that?’ he breathed, eyes going as wide as saucers. Arthur resisted the urge to sweep Merlin’s stupid hair back off his forehead and shrugged.
Finished lacing up his shoes, Merlin stood. ‘I need you to clear your schedule tomorrow,’ he said.
Arthur blinked. ‘Why?’
‘I’ve got something to show you,’ he said simply.
[ Part 2]