Disclaimers & author notes – see prologue.

Thank you to casualtheatrics for the beta.

Warnings for this chapter: Contains violence/explicit sexual content and alludes to past non-violent domestic abuse.

Thanks again for comments & PMs and congrats to Kat for getting an account!

Week Nine

Merlin hadn't seen Arthur since the evening after the last task as he'd had to go to New York for the launch of a new product line in place of one of Uther's other executives at the last minute. Merlin missed him.

It had been some evening, however. Merlin blushed at the memory when it ran through his head during dinner with Uncle Cill. With the few days on his hands to spend as he wished, he'd called up his Godfather and arranged to meet him for dinner on the second evening.

A couple of hours in and he was beginning to wish he'd stayed in and played 'one-hundred ways to avoid Cen' – much more fun. Much as he loved the old man, sometimes his company was hard work, especially when he was in full cryptic mode.

"It wasn't your fault you know," Uncle Cill said absently, topping up Merlin's wine glass, ignoring his protests that he had drunk enough.

Merlin glanced around the dining area they were seated in, amazed that there were still places like this; men-only members clubs, of which his Godfather was a celebrated member, and Merlin was the youngest person in the room by at least thirty years. "What wasn't my fault?"

"Hunith's death," was the casual reply to a subject which Merlin felt anything but casual about. "It was an accident."

"How -"

"You really should tell him you know; he'll understand," Uncle Cill continued, seemingly unaware of Merlin's growing agitation.

"Tell who what?" he sighed. He swore the old man became more and more confusing the older he became. "Why can't you just say it straight?" Merlin asked the question, but he knew the answer, and looking at Uncle Cill now he could see the glazed look in his eyes, the one he got when the wonderings came out.

He waited as the old man enjoyed a few sips of his wine, waiting for the 'normal' side to him to find its way back to the fore, but he seemed lost in the fog of his mind completely, the randomness peppered with knowing words, "Your mother loved you Merlin, adored you even. It was natural for her to be worried about you; but the accident was just that, an accident."

Merlin stared down into his glass, watching the dark red liquid as though he was expecting it to do something. He'd known this – his mother's love for him – of course he had. He'd also known the worry she'd gone through in the months prior to her death, and that had been his fault. Her accident had been his fault, even if he hadn't been the driver of the other car. If it weren't for him, she wouldn't have been out on the road that night, and wouldn't have driven into the path of a drunk driver.

"I don't think I can. Besides, when this thing is over, we'll go our separate ways – why does he need to know?" He was starting to regret telling Cill about his affair with Arthur; but at least it had stopped him mentioning the usual two sided coins and black horses - for the first time in twenty years.

"You need to tell him Merlin; if you don't, you could lose him."

He's not mine to lose.

o0o0o

Merlin ached for Arthur. A dull emptiness in the pit of his stomach was a physical reminder of the other's absence. This worried Merlin. If he was like this now, knowing Arthur was due to return in a couple of days time – what would he be like when they parted for good and he wasn't ever going to see him again? For surely, as soon as Merlin was fired and sent home to Worcestershire, that would be the end of their liaison.

They hadn't talked about it. Merlin didn't want to hear the words. He was only learning to accept that Arthur found him attractive and enjoyed being with him physically; he wasn't fool enough to think this meant anything long term. It was convenient for now; Arthur could have his pick of anyone, and Merlin was around - convenient. He tried not to think who might be around in New York right now because when he did he felt physically sick and his magic spontaneously blew things up.

The toaster in the kitchen had burnt its last slice of bread this morning when Merlin set fire to it thinking about Arthur in bed with someone else in New York. He hoped Arthur was too busy for such pursuits, but what did it have to do with Merlin really? Arthur had promised him nothing. The future remained a closed door for them – acknowledging it meant admitting they didn't have one, and Merlin wanted to pretend that there was some hope whilst his still could.

This was why there was little point in telling him about Edwin, and what had happened with his mother. Stuff like that was for someone who you knew you had a future with. Someone who needed and deserved to know what they were getting if they took you on. So, whilst it was fair to say he and Arthur were getting to know one another better – not just physically – there were some things that had to remain unsaid.

The longer Arthur was absent for, the more negative Merlin's thoughts became, until he had reduced their relationship back down to 'just sex' in his head – for Arthur anyway; not for Merlin.

He supposed he should make the effort whilst still in this competition and head downstairs to join the others – those who had not gone home that is – Lance, Leon and Gwen were still around. Gwaine had gone to see his kid; probably wanting to avoid Sophia as well as it had turned out to be true about her and Ev the cameraman and apparently, for a couple of weeks before she'd got it on with Gwaine she'd been sleeping with Morgause. Morgana had vanished for home before Merlin had had his chance to grab her – no one knew where she had gone – so Merlin's plans to quiz her about what she was up to had been shelved.

He was saved from his efforts at being sociable by the bell, or rather the eighties pop Bananarama ringtone of his mobile phone. He smiled when he saw it was Arthur; for all his depressing thoughts, Arthur was the one person he wanted to talk to above everyone else, "Hello?" he answered, trying not to sound too eager.

"I miss you," Arthur said immediately, and Merlin's heart jumped into his throat. "I've cut my trip short; I'll be home in the morning so we can spend the day together?"

"Er -" Merlin hesitated; he'd agreed to spend the day with Leon tomorrow. Leon had mentioned he'd never done the London tourist thing – open topped bus, Tower of London, Houses of Parliament, and Merlin had offered to go with him, with his camera in tow – the tourist trail was something he hadn't done since he was on a school trip over ten years before.

"Have you got other plans?" Arthur queried sharply, and Merlin wanted to say that no, of course he didn't, that he wanted nothing more than to spend the time with Arthur – and that of course was the truth – but he couldn't let Leon down: the other man had excitedly made an itinerary in the way a young child might. Merlin couldn't face the disappointment on his face if he cancelled their plans.

"I'm going sightseeing," Merlin confessed. "I can't get out of it now."

"Oh," Arthur sounded so disappointed, Merlin realised he couldn't win. "You'll come round in the evening though, won't you? It'll give me chance to sleep off the jet leg anyway."

"I wouldn't miss it," Merlin told him, smiling into the phone. Arthur was coming home early – of course he didn't have anyone else in New York. Merlin was getting paranoid over nothing. Just like that his negativity flew out of the window and he was back in the happy glow of Arthur's near presence.

How could his mood change so swiftly? He'd been a miserable lump the last few days. He'd been wallowing.

"Great – we'll order some food in," Arthur confirmed. "Now, what've you been up to – you weren't answering last night when I called, did you go out?"

Merlin ignored the slight accusation in Arthur's tone, he had nothing to apologise for, and told Arthur about his evening with his Godfather. The two of them talked for over an hour before Arthur had to end the call and Merlin retired for an early night, knowing that the sightseeing the next day would be tiring.

o0o0o

By mid afternoon the following day, Merlin was exhausted, and seriously pissed off. He could be at Arthur's right now, snuggled up to him as he slept through his jet lag. Instead he was traipsing through a crowded tourist trap looking at the bloody crown jewels of all things, with an unwelcome presence pressed against his back.

Leon had invited Cen.

If Merlin had known this was going to happen he would have let the two of them have a day out together without him and gone round to Arthur's the moment his plane landed.

"You smell good," Cen murmured into his ear, his breath tickling Merlin's neck – Merlin's magic protesting at the proximity. If he wasn't careful there could be a national security alert as Merlin's magic smashed the glass containing the priceless jewels and Merlin would be thrown into jail for attempting to steal the nation's treasure.

"I don't feel so well," Merlin said, and it wasn't even a lie, he felt like he was losing control again. "I need fresh air." He managed to push through the crowd and one look at his green face and the guard was opening the side fire door for his hasty retreat. He collapsed back against the cold stone of the wall, sinking to a crouch, his head between his knees, waiting for the moment to pass.

This was becoming a habit.

His head spun, but with the cool breeze on his face and the removal of the alien unwanted presence, he began to feel human again. He had to get out of there though; he couldn't be in that situation any longer.

Somehow he found his way out of the tower grounds and into a taxi, Arthur's address tripping off his tongue as he leant back into the leather and closed his eyes. What the fuck had that been? He couldn't be touched by anyone other than Arthur? True, he didn't want to be touched by anyone else, but he didn't want to be passing out every time someone tried. He texted Leon to apologise and say he was would see him later.

Arthur answered the intercom with a sleepy voice, buzzing Merlin in and waiting by the door for his arrival out of the lift. The events of the few hours flew out of Merlin's head as he saw Arthur, sleep rumpled and so bloody kissable with his low slung pyjama bottoms and bare feet.

Merlin walked into the hallway, and Arthur shut the door behind him. They stared at one another for a long minute before Merlin launched himself in Arthur's direction, attacking his lips, pushing him back against the door and pressing his body flush in to Arthur's. The nearness of the other washed away his magical tension.

All thoughts of Cen's unwanted attentions and his tiredness vanished now that he had Arthur back in his arms. His Arthur. They didn't speak, preferring to kiss instead, Merlin exploring Arthur's mouth, his hands knotted in his hair as he pulled him into him. Arthur's hands palmed Merlin's arse and Merlin could feel his erection through his tented pyjama bottoms. Oh God, he didn't think he could ever get enough of this man.

He moved his hands lower, along the curve of Arthur's neck, pulling out of the kiss and replacing his hands with his mouth, letting his hands drift down across Arthur's chest. The heels of Merlin's palms pressed into Arthur's nipples, his lips following the path his hands were taking, over the sculpted canvas of Arthur's stomach, teasing his navel, needy fingers hooking over the waistband of Arthur's bottoms and pushing them slowly out of the way to reveal his aroused flesh, pointing upwards towards Merlin invitingly.

Merlin dragged the bottoms down to Arthur's knees, letting his nails scratch down his thighs as he dropped to a crouch in front of him, brushing the tip of his nose against the head of Arthur's cock. He looked up at Arthur who was watching him now through sleepy narrowed eyes, and winked at him, snaking out his tongue to circle the head of his cock, tasting the precome and wanting more. He set about his explorations with an eager tongue and a desperate need to make Arthur come.

Arthur tipped his head back against the door, threaded his fingers through Merlin's hair and groaned.

Merlin hummed contentedly to himself; steadied Arthur's hips with his hands as he buried his nose in blonde curls, and thought that nothing could be better than this.

o0o0o

The break was over too soon, and once again Merlin found himself bleary eyed in front of Sir Uther in the kitchen of the house being given instructions for their latest task.

The time he was spending at Arthur's instead of the house was becoming more noticeable so he'd invented an 'old friend' who he told people he was spending time with if they asked.

The new task was weddings; to be more precise, wedding dresses and accessories, and to make matters worse, Sir Uther told Merlin he wanted him to lead Sorcery with Gwen leading Phoenix. They were to spend four days at the Wedding Show at the NEC in Birmingham; most profit wins as per usual.

Merlin had photographed a lot of weddings, so he knew far more than he would wish to admit to about them, but because of that he knew how competitive the wedding market was. His heart sank at the prospect of running this task.

"I love weddings!" Cen exclaimed the moment Sir Uther had left and they were left to their own devices in their office. "So much fun and an excellent excuse to get all dressed up and spend money to excess! What's not to love?"

Merlin perked up a little. Cen was an openly gay man with a love of weddings – there could be some mileage here.

"OK, here's the brief then guys," Merlin started, opening up the folder that contained a large selection of wedding dress designers, and a load of other wedding related things – cakes, underwear, favours, shoes, jewellery... They had to choose two designers they wanted to sell dresses for and two other products. "We've only got today to get out there, see all this stuff and make our choices – and we have to hope the other team pick different products to us otherwise we will have to fight it out and could lose to them."

They spent a while flipping through info on potential designers, "I'm going to split us into two – Cen and Morgana, myself and Gwaine." He'd wanted to put himself with Morgana but Gwaine and Cen were still not talking, and there was no space in this task for micro managing them if they started bickering.

Morgana was a stylish woman; he hoped she'd know what style of wedding dresses might sell. He thought he had a good idea himself as well, but he knew nothing about fabric, or prices – he hoped Morgana might be a little more clued up than he was. They just had to get out there and find the right designers.

"One thing," he said before they all jumped into their separate cars to visit the designers. "We need to be exclusive – there cannot be anyone else at that show selling the products we are. No exceptions." He'd seen candidates on previous shows make that mistake, he wasn't about to make that error.

In the corner of his eye he saw Arthur smile and make some hasty notes. He waited until the others were on their way out to the cars, the camera crew on their heels, and stopped dead in the doorway so that Arthur crashed into him, "Sorry Mr Pendragon," he said professionally, even as his cock hardened at the feel of Arthur's hand sliding over his hipbone under the pretence of steadying him. "I'm too clumsy for words."

"No problem Merlin," Arthur replied, cupping Merlin's arse before pushing him forward and out to the car. Arthur sat beside him on the backseat, their thighs aligned, Merlin hyper aware of his proximity as he talked to Gwaine about who would say what when they met with designers. His mind slipped back to their trip to Somerset in the limo. Oh God; this was so not the time to be thinking about that.

"Merlin, are you OK?" Gwaine asked with concern. "You look a little flushed."

"I'm fine Gwaine, just worried about the task that's all," he slid a sideways death glance at a smirking Arthur. "Perhaps it's a good thing that you're taking the lead on this first meeting."

If anyone could charm the pants off a wedding dress designer it would be Gwaine.

o0o0o

By the end of the working day they had secured their first and third choices of wedding designers, having lost their second to the other team and Sophia's probable simpering over all things sparkly. Now they had a mid priced range, affordable to the masses. They had also taken a punt on a new designer whose dresses were very expensive, but unique - a much harder sale, but if they managed it they would be laughing. Morgana had fallen madly in love with this designer's work and assured Merlin that the dresses would be irresistible to any bride with taste and a few quid to spend.

The chosen accessories – again, with Morgana's influence – were a range of sexy underwear meant to go under the wedding dress and eventually arouse the hell out of the groom on the wedding night, and the final product was a selection of designer shoes. Merlin had taken on board Morgana's suggestion that they should stock items for women only and nothing that would require a joint decision with the groom as it was unlikely that the groom would be present.

He just hoped they had chosen the right products. Cen had worked hard on sales projections and profit margins; they knew how much they could knock off prices in accordance with the designer's instructions – they were good to go.

They were heading to Birmingham that evening, staying the Metropole Hotel next to the NEC. Merlin packed his camera and his mini printer at the last minute thinking it would be a good idea to offer photographs to the brides of themselves in the dress so that they could carry it round as a reminder. This meant they had to stop at the Staples superstore on the way out of London, picking up photo printing paper and when Merlin spotted the instant business card machine, he had the idea to buy some with the details of their stand on so that people would know where to come back to if they wanted to browse further before making the decision.

He was quite proud of himself for the brainwave.

Now, all he wanted was to get to the hotel and snuggle up with Arthur in his hotel room until the stupidly early time they had to get up to set up their stand before opening time at 10am.

In the end, Merlin went to Arthur's room, collapsing in an exhausted heap on the bed, "Don't even think about it," he threatened Arthur. "I'm too tired to move."

"Then don't," Arthur teased, slowly divulging Merlin of his clothes before settling himself over his thighs and taking his cock in his mouth. "You stay perfectly still; all you have to do is come."

Merlin did; and by the time Arthur was through with him, more than once.

o0o0o

The days passed in a blur of exhaustion fuelled adrenaline. Merlin did wonder how it was he managed to end up project managing two mammoth tasks; the Glastonbury one had been just as exhausting – but back then he hadn't had Arthur to curl into every night after a bout of mind blowing sex. The constant flow of orgasms certainly helped him to relax.

The good times couldn't last. Three days into the exhibition it all went to pot. First of all, Arthur was called away overnight, back to London, for an entertainment/breakfast meeting with some important overseas clients, thus wouldn't be back until the following afternoon. Merlin retired to his hotel room – the first night he would spend in there as Arthur's was so much more welcoming – and after a quick sandwich from room service, he collapsed into bed.

He should never have answered the door; but half asleep as he was he hadn't thought to use his magic to check who was on the other side, or to even think about not answering the summons. So, clad just in pyjama bottoms with his hair sticking out at every possible angle, he ambled to the door and flung it open, only realising the error in this when it to revealed Cen, bottle of wine in one hand and two glasses in the other, leaning against the doorjamb trying to appear nonchalant.

He waggled his eyebrows at Merlin and was in through the door before Merlin had a chance to open his mouth to protest, "You're a difficult man to get on his own," Cen flirted, circling Merlin and eyeing him up and down appreciatively. "Worth the wait though."

Merlin's foggy brain cranked into gear, "Cen I -"

"I've been waiting to do this for weeks," Cen was saying, cutting over Merlin's slow response. Somehow he'd put down his alcoholic cargo and his hands had found Merlin's hips and he was being backed towards the bed, a dark stubbly jaw nuzzling his neck.

Merlin panicked. He didn't want this – he so did not want this – and his magic reared to life at the intrusion, "Cen I don't think this is a good idea," Merlin tried desperately as the full red lips snapped over his, pushing him back onto the bed. Merlin wriggled, pushing Cen back with all of his strength, but only succeeding in making him falter briefly before his lips were back on Merlin's, pinning Merlin to the bed with his thighs on either side of Merlin's hips.

"Merlin, Jesus, you're perfect," Cen was saying between kisses, oblivious to Merlin's futile attempts to shove him away; Cen was much bigger than Merlin and much stronger. His hot breath was making Merlin's stomach churn as the unwanted attentions became more determined. His panic took hold in earnest, utter revulsion flaring in Merlin's blood, the magic protesting because someone other than Arthur was doing this to him.

"No!" Merlin said. "Cen – no!"

"Come on Merlin, you know -"

"I said no!" and with that, his magic gave off a powerful shockwave, emanating out of Merlin in a golden pulse. It knocked Cen unconscious and left Merlin feeling drained as the pulse made its way through the room, breaking mirrors and crockery before bouncing back and fizzling out.

Cen collapsed on top of him, dead to the world; a lead weight. Merlin struggled to twist out from beneath him, unable to push him off. "Fuck," he managed, looking down at the immobile man, then around the room at the debris his magic had left. "Fuck, fuck, fuck."

With a shaky hand he checked Cen's pulse and breathed a sigh of relief when he found it; he was out cold.

He waved a hand and the mirror repaired itself and the crockery knitted back together. Satisfied he moved over to the phone and called reception, asking if they had a doctor they usually called if a guest was unwell. His senses were reeling, he needed to get out of there, but his conscience wouldn't let him leave without making sure his unwelcome amour was going to be OK. Yes he was angry, but he shouldn't have answered the door. He should have seen this coming – he had seen it coming hadn't he? He should have said something sooner – a lot sooner.

A doctor arrived after about ten minutes; a no-nonsense fifty-something man who didn't bat an eyelid at Cen's prone state. He checked him over and declared him merely intoxicated and in need to a good night's sleep, followed by paracetamol and a couple of pints of water when he woke up.

Cen had had a couple but not enough for this comatose state; Merlin could only hope that the rest of it was an overdose of magic. Either way, he was still stuck with an unconscious man mountain on his bed and it didn't look as though that situation would be changing any time soon.

He felt overwhelmed with the need to get out of there, away from Cen, away from the scene of the 'crime'. Yanking on a t-shirt, he cast one last resentful glare at his immobilised assailant and stormed out of the room, up to the next floor to Arthur's empty room and let himself in with his magic. Arthur wasn't there, but Merlin felt safer with his things around him, the scent of Arthur's cologne lingering in the air.

He crawled under the duvet and wrapped it around himself, realising he was shaking. Would Cen have listened to him if he'd said no enough times? He hadn't seemed to notice that Merlin wasn't responding to his advances. Merlin shuddered as he recalled the feel of the man's lips on his. He'd been drinking, that much was obvious. What if Merlin hadn't had magic to save him?

Why did he have to do this now, if at all, in the middle of a task? Tomorrow was going to be mightily awkward, if Cen was even awake by then. Fuck.

Again he wished he'd addressed this sooner.

The knock at this door almost had him falling out of bed. Surely Cen wouldn't have woken up and tracked him down to here? This time he was wise, he reached out to sense whoever was at the door and found it was Morgana.

With a weary sigh he clambered out of the bed, resigned to getting little sleep that night, and opened the door. Morgana was staring at the floor, biting her lip and bobbing nervously. Very un-Morgana like.

"Arthur can I have a word?" she began before looking up and seeing Merlin. "Oh! I should have thought this through," she chastised herself. Her disappointment was evident.

"He's not here," Merlin said. "He's been called away on business."

"Oh, well OK, I'll try and catch him when he gets back, it can wait."

"Do you think it's time we had that chat?"

Morgana shrank back, "Merlin I don't think -"

"Otherwise I might start to think you have designs on my -" On his what? "On Arthur." He held the door open pointedly.

Morgana sighed heavily and entered.

Merlin gestured to the sofa near the window and Morgana obediently settled onto it. Merlin sat at the other end and waited.

"I don't have designs on Arthur," she said eventually, turning to look him directly in the eye. "Not that way anyway...I mean I do have an interest, but not a romantic one."

Merlin raised an eyebrow. He wasn't sure he wanted to hear this, but at least it was distracting him from what had just happened back in his room.

"He's the reason I'm here. I don't want or need to win this competition, I wanted to find a way to get to know Arthur, and he me, before I tell him that -" she paused and looked at her twisting hands in her lap. "- that I'm his big sister."

Merlin gaped. Morgana was Arthur's sister?

"You mean Uther..?"

Morgana shook her head vigorously, "No, Ygraine – Arthur's mother. I was adopted before she met Uther."

"But why all this? Why not just approach him? Arthur would be so happy to know he has a sister – and nieces! Arthur's an uncle!" Arthur would love that Merlin knew. He looked at Morgana, her nervous demeanour not like the Morgana he'd gotten to know over the last few weeks.

"I'm scared he'll reject me," she admitted, her eyes filling with tears. "I've never had a loving family until I met Alvarr and had the girls. The people who adopted me were in their fifties when they took me in. They didn't really know how to be parents. My real mother – Arthur's mother – worked in their stables; I was adopted privately. Ygraine met Uther a year after that. I don't know if he knows about me."

"Arthur won't reject you," Merlin assured, knowing he was right. "He actually rather likes you already."

"I don't know how to act, I keep messing up, I try to smile and I sneer at him, I try to act natural and I just come across as a cold bitch – and perhaps I am that, that's how I've always been. It took Alvarr months of perseverance before I would even go for a drink with him – I liked him too, but I was scared to let him see that."

"I won't tell Arthur about this, I promise," Merlin said, squeezing her shoulder reassuringly. "But you need to, and soon, because I'm shit at keeping secrets. My face gives me away every time."

"I'll tell him after this task, I promise," she said and kissed him on the cheek. "I had been planning to tell him tonight! I've been planning the whole thing in my head for weeks, and I finally mustered up the courage."

Merlin hoped she found an opportunity soon. "Good," Merlin said, trying to smile but unable to shake the sensation of Cen's lips on his. If ever there was a time he needed Arthur, it was now.

They sat in comfortable silence for a while, Morgana finally saying, "I'm glad you made me tell you. I feel like a weight has been lifted. I should have done it weeks ago. I kept meaning to; but winning these tasks is kind of addictive and I'll have to quit once I've told him."

"Why?"

"I'm here under false pretences; I bribed someone to get through! I think it's only fair that I leave."

"If I were you I'd wait till the interviews in week 11, if you don't get fired first, and flunk out on those on purpose – less scandalous than quitting when you're so near the end."

"Hmm, you could have a point," she bit her lip and focussed on Merlin. "What about you – this thing with you and Arthur – you know that if you win and it comes out you'll be accused of sleeping your way to victory – by other candidates and the papers."

Merlin had thought about this more and more lately as he and Arthur got increasingly involved with each other. He didn't want to think about it now, "I've got a more pressing problem," he evaded, going cold at the memory of Cenred's lips on his.

"Oh God Merlin, what's wrong?" Morgana noticed his renewed pallor. "Has something happened?"

"Cenred's unconscious on my bed downstairs because I accidentally knocked him out when, er, he jumped me."

"Oh Merlin – he didn't hurt you did he? I'll knock him into next week if he did!" she exclaimed, her eyes flashing angrily. "I told him -"

"No, no – he's definitely come off worse from this encounter," Merlin sighed. "He just freaked me out for a while, that's all. He's considerably bigger than me."

Morgana got to her feet and headed to the mini-bar. "You need a brandy," she decided. "Come to that, so do I."

o0o0o

When Merlin, slightly fuzzy from the brandy, returned to his own room the following morning, Cen had left. The hotel issue notepad was on the pillow and Cen had scrawled 'Sorry'. Merlin screwed up the paper and flung it in the bin, still angry despite the passing of time.

He tried not to let the tenseness between himself and Cen translate into the task, but after a couple of hours of it, he took a coffee break and called Will to tell him what had happened, needing to get it off his chest – yes, he'd told Morgana, but he'd tried to laugh it off with her – he needed to rant about it, and Will was the only person he could do that to.

Merlin returned to the stand after twenty minutes on the phone to Will and was now making appreciative noises to a radiant, prospective bride who was trying on their most expensive dress. He hadn't wanted to go back inside after talking to Will, but he had to – he was managing the task. He had to keep busy as much as possible; he also had to avoid Cen.

Merlin glanced at Arthur, who had returned a few minutes after Merlin had made his way back inside, watching as Arthur's eyes narrowed at the stilted interactions between Merlin and his team mate. Merlin itched to wrap his arms around Arthur, draw some comfort – they hadn't seen each other in hours - but he couldn't, the cameras were watching.

He felt safer knowing Arthur was there.

"How does it feel on?" he turned his attention to his customer. She genuinely did look wonderful in the dress; the cut was flattering to her pear shaped figure.

"Like a fairy princess," she admitted, turning again in the mirror. "This is the one – right Mum?"

An older woman standing to the side beamed, "It's the best yet," she said, her tone implying that they'd seen a lot of dresses.

"I'll take it – I mean obviously I want one made to measure as this one's a bit long for me – but yes, this is the one." She disappeared back into the changing area calling over her shoulder, "Mum's paying."

Merlin did the paperwork, feeling suddenly lightened – this sale was worth £7,000! As they walked away he let out a breath and punched the air, "Yes!" He hugged Gwaine, and as he turned to Cen, both of them awkwardly appraised the other before shaking hands. Shit.

He sidled over to Arthur, "How was the meeting?"

Arthur was looking at him oddly.

"Long," Arthur said. "Merlin, what's going on?"

Merlin's heart nearly stopped. Where did he start? With Cen? Or Morgana?

He looked at Arthur now, at his expectant face, and replied, "Not now – later yeah?"

Merlin smiled nervously before turning away to assist a customer who was browsing the shoes. But he didn't miss Arthur's frown.

o0o0o

Merlin held a quick debrief with the team when they got back to London and had freshened up. He was pleased overall with how they had performed; if they lost it would be very unlucky, it just depended on the sales figures of the other team at the end of the day.

As it was the end of the task, Arthur and Gaius didn't stay over in the house, and by the time they were debriefed, it was far too late to go over to his; Merlin sent him a quick text and went to bed alone.

The boardroom was upon them all too soon. Cen had been trying to get Merlin by himself since they got back into London, and in the end, Merlin caved and followed Cen into an empty office next to the boardroom whilst they waited for the crew to set up.

Merlin stayed near the door, inordinately nervous that Cen might still be under the illusion that Merlin was attracted to him.

"Merlin, about the other night," he said quickly. "I was out of line and I'm sorry." He stared Merlin down, making him swallow and back up.

The door flew open then, "Merlin, have you got a minute?" Arthur said, appearing in the doorway, his blue eyes glittering coldly.

"I -" Merlin glanced at Cen.

"We're kinda busy here actually," Cen said to Arthur, folding his arms defensively and glaring at him.

Arthur squared his shoulders, stepping further into the room, putting himself between Merlin and Cen, "You don't get to tell me what to do," he snarled. "Merlin – a word please?"

"Now, hang on," Cen spluttered, turning an unflattering shade of red. "You can't just order him around like that! Your name may be Pendragon but you don't frighten me!"

Arthur stepped closer to him, his fists curling by his sides. Merlin was frozen to the spot; this was a side of Arthur he had never seen before.

"Now, Merlin and I were in the middle of something before you rudely interrupted," Cen pressed on, moving over to Merlin, and oblivious to the warning signs, throwing an arm possessively around Merlin's shoulder. "Right Merlin?"

Merlin had tensed, immediately wanting distance from the contact.

"Get your hands off him," Arthur said menacingly. "Now."

"Or you'll what – have me fired? I'll -" Merlin was never to hear what Cen was about to say as Arthur's right fist connected with Cen's jaw, sending him reeling backwards, his arm falling off Merlin's shoulder as he slammed into the wall behind.

"You don't want to know what I'll do to you if you ever come near him again," Arthur calmly threatened. He turned towards Merlin who was looking at Arthur in shock. "Merlin?"

On autopilot, Merlin followed Arthur from the room. Arthur immediately pulled him into the adjacent office. "Are you OK?" he asked, concern etched onto his face as he looked at Merlin. "Morgana just told me what happened the other night. Why didn't you tell me?"

"We haven't -" We haven't been alone together since, he was about to say. They had got back from Birmingham too late and then it was the boardroom and this conversation was really happening.

"I don't want you spending time alone with him again," Arthur was saying. Merlin's world span on its axis at those words; words he'd never thought he'd hear from Arthur Pendragon's lips. The words bore an uncanny resemblance to something he'd heard from Edwin in relation to Will.

His mind began to whir. Who did Arthur think he was? Did he think him incapable of understanding for himself that he ought to stay away from Cenred after the other night? How dare he try to control him like this?

For a long moment the rest of the world faded away as Merlin was plunged into a dark memory, of a time when Edwin hadn't even liked him going to see his Mum because Will lived there too. Edwin had already driven the wedge in between Merlin and his best friend. Merlin had let him; now, just the memory brought back how fucking pathetic he was, how useless. His Mother had been so worried about him that the last time he'd called to cancel a visit for dinner, she'd told him she was coming over to him, that she wouldn't take no for an answer anymore, that she needed to check her boy was OK.

She hadn't made it, and when Merlin had the call from the hospital, he hadn't made it in time. She'd been dead before he got there. He couldn't forgive himself for that. She had died because he hadn't had the balls to stand up to Edwin. Edwin had taken control of him so thoroughly he'd totally lost himself, made him believe he was so repulsive that no one else would ever want him...

Arthur put a hand on Merlin's shoulder, and Merlin recoiled back from his touch, "Merlin – are you alright?"

Merlin dredged up the words from somewhere, alien words that he should have said to Edwin that first time, but was saying to Arthur now instead. Stepping back and reaching out to fumble for the door handle Merlin whispered: "Stay away from me from now on." He pushed past Arthur and out into the corridor, just in time for Ewan's appearance to call them into to start filming.

Everyone assembled in around the table. Merlin was hyper-aware of Arthur's pale face, of Arthur's eyes trying to catch his as he looked anywhere but at him. He felt like he was watching the scene from outside his own body as Sir Uther slid open the doors and took his seat.

As he had hoped for, his team won by a huge margin, clocking up sales of £23,986 compared to the other team's £6,372. Merlin vaguely registered this, and knew he'd been answering Sir Uther's questions, but it was another Merlin, not him – he was sure he hadn't been able to speak a word.

"An outstanding performance from team Sorcery," Sir Uther had praised the team once the results were announced.

Merlin managed to fake a smile when Sir Uther sent them to enjoy a private cooking lesson from Jamie Oliver even though he privately couldn't stand the idiot. He'd won his second task but he couldn't feel anything but numb. Through the drama of the last few days he'd had this whole competition on the back burner – he probably didn't deserve the credit for the win. He'd sold £12,000 worth of wedding dress in two dresses, plus a few sundries – the sales numbers had come from the others. As a team though, they really had wiped the floor with the others.

It didn't look good for Gwen.

He stuck to Morgana's side for the rest of the day, their shared secret a new bond between them – he couldn't look at Cenred and his rapidly developing bruise. He had half a mind to apologise, but Cen had taken to glaring at him now. The man would have to be a moron not to realise that something had been going on between him and Arthur, and Cen was no moron.

Something had been going on, but no longer. Merlin wasn't letting anyone try to control him again. No one was going to tell him who he could and couldn't be friends with ever again. Not even Arthur Pendragon.

When they got back to the house they only had to wait twenty minutes for the other team to come back, a tearful Gwen sobbing that Lance had been fired because he'd been responsible for picking a range of wedding dresses that had been 'funky' and they hadn't sold a single one. Sir Uther had made her bring everyone back due to them all under-performing, so she hadn't been able to save Lance.

Poor Lance. It was getting down to the wire with the competition now though; only one more task before the interview stages. The interviews were always horrendous to watch on TV, the interviewers asking particularly nasty questions, getting people to tie themselves in knots.

He didn't think he could face it. He wasn't going to win this now. All he wanted was to go home, back to his old life, back to Will and their cat, and his photography. Away from this TV bubble, away from Arthur.

His suitcase was by the door where he'd dumped it after bringing it back from the boardroom. He threw it on the bed and magicked all his belongings inside.

Merlin was quitting this shit. He was going home.

o0o0o

Please don't kill me - *ducks*

Let me know what you think. Cheers!