Disclaimer: I do not own Merlin; the show belongs to BBC. I own my OCs.

Albi chuckles. "After all that you have nothing to say? I would've figured you sass me by now."

She looks to her right. Merlin's gone. Fear swims through her veins. Her gut told her it was a bad idea and she should've followed it. Albi turns back around to head back in the direction they were walking. She picks up her pace dodging roots and branches as her eyes scan the immediate area. How could she let this happen? Merlin's only an old man. The boss wouldn't hurt someone as gentle as him, would he? Yes. Yes he would. Albi pushes her limits until she trips and lands on top of someone.

"Bloody hell. Watch where you're going."

"I could say the same to you." Albi sits up rubbing her head. "Who stands in the middle of the fucking pathway?"

"Says the one who's running like a madman."

She scoffs. "You'd run too if someone you know got kidnapped."

"What?"

"Yeah, an old man I was walking with disappeared. There are some people I can name who would do something like this."

Albi stands up. She brushes away leaves and dirt. The person she ran over stands up too. Their eyes wide with shock.

"We need to tell the prince and the knights. They'll help with the investigation. We'll find him." He holds out a hand. "I'm Merlin."

Albi shakes his hand. "Is it a common name? I thought it was unique."

"What do you mean mate?"

"The old man's name is Merlin."

"That's not possible," he mutters softly.

"What?"

"Um, where did you see him last?"

"I don't know."

"It's going to be alright lad."

"Hold up," she raises her hand in a stop motion. "Did you just call me a "lad"?"

"Yes."

"I'm a woman."

"A woman wearing trousers, a white tunic, boots and a brown leather jacket? It's unheard of."

"Do you have a problem with how I dress?" She gets right in Merlin's face. "If you do, I have no problem with kicking your ass."

"Where are you from? Your accent is nothing I've heard before."

Hold up. Rewind. He's never heard her accent before? Sure her mother's American and she picked up her accent but it's not a truly American accent. It's mixed ever since her mother traded her life with...him. Albi takes this time to soak in her surroundings. This doesn't look like the park she was walking in with old man Merlin.

She sizes the young looking Merlin up. Her eyes rake up and down his body. He's on the lean side but if it came down to a fist fight, he could stand his ground against her. His clothes are off to her. No one in their right mind would dress like someone from medieval times. Unless they're going to a fare or cosplay. The way he called her out on her clothing doesn't normally go with 21st century thinking; if she were wearing what could be deemed as "too revealing" then that's a different story.

Her mind replays their conversation. He mentioned knights and a prince. Never once did he say about calling the cops.

"You said we need to tell the prince and knights about Merlin's kidnapping."

"That wasn't the answer I was expecting."

"Dude," she snaps her fingers in his face, "focus."

"I am. You're the one who didn't answer my question."

"I'll answer yours if you answer mine."

"I asked first."

"What are you, five?" Albi sighs heavily. "Look, you mentioned a prince and knights. Why say that if we can just call the cops."

"Cops?"

"Police officers? Scotland yard?"

"How long have you been out here?"

"Not long. Why?"

"I've never seen anyone go mad so quickly."

"I HAVE NOT LOST MY DAMN MIND."

Merlin points an accusing finger. "You're the one who's going off about police officers and Scotland yard. Plus, no woman in her right mind would dare to wear men's clothing. Not in the Kingdom of Camelot or the surrounding kingdoms."

Albi blinks in shock. Merlin spoke rapidly and all she got was the word Camelot. Hold on. Pause. Rewind. She clears her throat.

"I'm sorry. I think there's a build up of wax in my ear." She smiles nervously then takes a step back. "You said the Kingdom of what?"

"Camelot."

"Heh. One more time."

"Camelot."

"Oh fuck me."

(-)

Merlin expected his day off to be normal. Go for a stroll through town, grab lunch at The Rising Sun, yada yada. Instead, he ends up getting tackled to the ground by a man, he presumed, then it turns out the man is a woman with strange clothing and an even stranger accent. How he ends up in these predicaments is beyond him. The woman before him appears to be quite vulgar. He's never heard such a foul mouth from a woman before.

Merlin doesn't know if they'll become friends or foes. Although she's got quite the mouth, she appears to be in distress.

"Oh fuck me."

"I'm assuming you're not from around here," he states cautiously.

"Gee, however did you guess?"

He smirks. "Don't think you can out sass me. I'm practically a master of it."

"You're not helping."

"You know, you never did tell me where you're from."

"Woolwich."

"I don't believe it's in Camelot. Perhaps another kingdom?"

"United Kingdom."

"Odd name for a kingdom. And where exactly is this United Kingdom located?"

"Out west."

"I see."

"Let's get back to the fact you said Camelot."

"Why?"

"Because Camelot is a place of myth and legend. Evidence shows it may have been real and here you are talking about it as if it's a real living place."

"It is though."

"You know what," she digs for her phone, "I'll show you."

Albi pulls out her phone from the jacket's pocket. Merlin's curious by the device in her hand. She opens it up attempting to gain internet access. Imagine her face when there are absolutely no bars. The young woman puts her phone away then starts asking Merlin of subjects she knows in hopes of him knowing what she's talking about. They got nowhere with it.

She comes to the slow realization of which she is IN FACT in the time of Camelot. The young woman leans up against a tree and slides down. Her head rests against its trunk. Slowly her head thumps against it. Merlin squats down in front of at arm's length away. He didn't want to appear threatening to her.

"You alright love?"

"I'm in the past. Phone doesn't work. No way of getting back home. I'm goddamn peachy."

"Only explanation is someone used magic to send you here."

She chuckles darkly. "Magic's real. Awesome. If I've learned anything from reading books and watching movies, magic's never a good thing to deal with."

"Movies?" Merlin wonders.

"Forget it."

Merlin stops her head. He rubs on the spot where it connects with the trunk. She doesn't swat his hand away. Albi's come to terms she'll remain here forever and most likely will die here too. Guess it's not too bad considering the alternative.

"I'd rather you not hurt yourself."

"Sure."

"Since magic is involved, I know someone who could help." He stands back up with a hand out. "Coming?"

"Tell me who the prince is. I don't believe I recall King Arthur having a son."

"Arthur is the prince. His father is the king, Uther Pendragon."

"Awesome," she mutters.

The young warlock still has his hand out. She rolls her eyes but takes his hand anyway. With both of them now on their feet, they head out of the forest. A question nags Merlin.

"You said the name of the old man you were traveling with is Merlin. Can you describe what he looks like?"

"Hmm," Albi taps her chin. "Old, assuming he's in his late 80s, long white beard, big ears, blue eyes, had a hat on, trench coat, black trousers, and a blue shirt."

Aside from the fact the choice in clothing is strange to him, her description of the old man sounds exactly like his Dragoon the Great disguise. How's it possible she knows his disguise? Maybe she did see the future version of him. Merlin shakes his head. It's impossible. He couldn't live that long. There's no way. Once they get to Gaius, they'll straighten this out and perhaps this woman will turn out to be only mad.