Disclaimer: IDOM

Okay, guys, so I'm still sick. I've been sick for eight days now, and it's been horrible. If you've ever seen danisnotonfire's (youtuber) video ,"The Joy of Illness", you understand. If not, go watch it. It's exactly how I feel. Not even kidding. All I want to do is sleep and write fanfiction. But no, I have to deal with school all day and work, so I don't get home 'til six. :P Then, I need to do my homework, chores, and shower, all the while I can barely breath. Plus, we had to run the mile in gym today, and I didn't even finish because I couldn't breath.

See what it's doing to me? I'm whining now. *shakes head* Ignore me. ;)

Enjoy the chapter. :)

Chapter 8: Investigations

"Look who I found!" Gwaine announced as he walked into the break room, arm slung around the warlock's shoulders.

The room, Merlin found, was large. On one side were a few short tables, two pushed against the wall and two higher topped tables sitting in the middle. Pushed against another wall were a soda machine and a vending machine, and on the wall that had a curtained window facing back out into the main room, was a counter with a coffee machine, microwave, sink, and toaster. Lounging next to said coffee maker was Arthur. Sitting on one of the high-topped tables with a box of unopened doughnuts in front of him was Leon. Elyan was pulling something sweet-smelling out of the microwave, and Percival was pouring himself a cup of coffee.

All eyes turned to them as Gwaine all but escorted the warlock into the room, and grins lit up their faces.

"Finally!" Arthur exclaimed with mild exasperation.

Leon glanced at the inspector with amusement before turning to Merlin. "What took you so long?"

Smiling, Merlin retold his story, explaining about the car accident while he sat down at the table with Leon.

"Well, it could have been worse, I suppose," Elyan supplied.

Percival nodded, sipping on his coffee. "True."

Gwaine swung his head, moving his hair, and plopped down in the chair next to Merlin and reaching for the doughnuts. The warlock pushed them towards him, and Arthur took the seat on his other side.

"Now that we're all here," he said, looking at Merlin accusingly, who smiled sheepishly back at him, "we can watch that surveillance tape. Though I'm still not sure why we waited."

"'Because I don't want to have to watch it a thousand times over,'" Leon reiterated, smirking. "I think that was an exact quote too."

Arthur's eyes narrowed and his lips thinned to keep his smile from spreading. "Oh shut up."

"Which one is this?" Merlin asked.

"The one from the museum we investigated," Leon offered. "Yours didn't see anything on their cameras, remember?"

Percival and Elyan came closer, Percival bearing the remote to the flat screen telly behind Leon. He pressed a button, and the large box came on soundlessly, bright colors of a child's morning show popping up on the screen. Merlin took a sprinkled doughnut out of the box as the channel changed and Percival pressed play.

It was dark. That much they could see. The time index on the video said '2:18 am 2012, April 4.' The vantage point was from across the street, at a little shop, and what they could see of the museum was lit by inner lights and street lamps. The stone building was tall, old looking, and in daylight, Merlin was sure that the stone was more cream colored than the dark building showed on the screen.

"I don't see anything," Elyan said.

Percival glanced at him, smirking with amusement. "Just wait."

Each of them watched the video carefully for a few more seconds and, failing to see anything, sighed.

"We're not going to watch this whole thing, are we?" Gwaine grumbled.

Arthur glanced back at him, a thin line on his lips that displayed his annoyance. "The museum staff narrowed the timeframe down to a thirty minute window. That's what we're watching."

"Half an hour?"

The inspector turned to Percival, and Merlin smirked, seeing the humor in his friend's calcite eyes. "Perce, fast forward through this, will you?"

Lifting the remote, the man tilted his head in acknowledgment before pressing the button and making the end of the remote flash blue. Static edged the screen here and there from the poor footage, and they waited another ten minutes until they reached the edge of the time frame.

"Nothing," Arthur grumbled.

Leon cupped the side of his face, looking bored as he took a sip of coffee. "We don't even know if there was a proper break-in. Nothing was taken after all -"

"-but what about the window?" Percival interjected.

"Janitor could have left it open overnight," Merlin offered simply. He himself had investigated several break-ins - been a victim multiple times, too - but he wasn't exactly familiar with all the technology that the police used now, which put him at a disadvantage.

Arthur quirked his eyebrow and tipped his head to the side. "True, but the janitor said that he didn't. He was interviewed."

The warlock sighed, hiding back his smile. It was true that not having any leads was frustrating, but not having any leads while working with your best friends, your destiny, made it all so much better. He knew he probably shouldn't think like that - the case should take priority, after all - but he couldn't help it.

"What're you smiling about?" Arthur questioned suddenly.

Merlin's grin only widened as he met his friend's gaze. "Who me?"

"Yes, you."

"Oh, nothing," the warlock replied calmly, resting the side of his jaw in his hand.

Arthur's eyes narrowed as he examined the man, whose lips were drawn into a forced neutrality, making him look bored. "Well, you look like an idiot."

Warmth spread through Merlin's chest and once again, his grin broadened. He didn't remember how... good it felt to be called that by his friend, who, Merlin knew, meant it as an affectionate gesture rather than a harsh criticism. It also meant a golden opportunity that Merlin wouldn't ever pass up.

"Well, you look like a prat."

Now Arthur's lips tightened as the corners drew up, and eventually they looked into a full smile. The warlock could see from the corner of his eye the surprise in Percy's, Elyan's, and Leon's face, all of whom hadn't been at the museum yesterday when he nearly fell flat on his face. But there was something familiar in their eyes as well, something of themselves from before.

"Bradley?"

All eyes turned towards the door at the all-too-familiar voice, and, yet even though Merlin knew he was here, knew that he was bound to run into him eventually, and knew that, technically, he worked for him now, it was still a sizable surprise to see the once great King Uther Pendragon standing in the doorway to the break room. The tension in the room seemed to rise at the sudden interruption.

Inhaling deeply to calm his racing heart and magic, Merlin looked him over with a quick glance, and memories of a ruthless, lonely man, a man who caused hundreds of people fear and pain and whose legacy reverberated throughout time long after he was gone, ran through his mind. This was the man who had taught that magic was evil, the man who had tried to kill hundreds of his people even after using magic himself, selfishly. And he was also the man who had tried to kill not only himself multiple times, but also Guinevere, and even his own son once, believing that it was best for the kingdom. He was a hypocrite, and Merlin could only hope that this life has changed him, shaped him into a different person.

But as much as he wanted to stay optimistic, he highly doubted the man had changed that much.

He was still as tall and still had the aura of a king about him, commanding and firm, but also with a small amount of softness in his eyes that Merlin had seen in every father's orbs. He wore a light grey, pinstriped suit, with a light blue coloured tie that accentuated his eyes. Uther's hair, silver but dark at the back and ends, was brushed backwards and away from his face, and Merlin thought it odd to not see him wearing a golden crown atop his head. His lips were drawn into a strict line, not smiling, but not frowning either, and as his now questioning eyes landed on him, Merlin felt a shiver run through him that made the hair at the base of his neck stand on end.

Before Arthur could answer his father's inquiries, Uther spoke again, walking towards Merlin slowly and with a look of a hunter staring at his prey. "You must be Bradley's new partner. Colin, isn't it?"

Merlin stood and amiably accepted Uther's extended arm, shaking his hand shortly and pushing back his feelings of contempt. This could still be a different Uther, and while Merlin might hold negative feelings about the man's past, he was still Arthur's father and his higher. He had to show respect for the man at the very least.

"Yes sir, Colin Jones, and you must be the Chief."

"Indeed," he answered, almost too calmly as he narrowed his eyes thoughtfully. "I've read your file, Colin. It's very impressive."

Merlin smiled politely, hiding the thoughts of the thousands of things that weren't in the file, both positive and negative. His 'file' only showed what he'd done in the past few years of his life, as well as his 'lineage,' which was, of course, still Merlin, but no one else knew that but John. John was actually the person who had put flimsy file together in effort of getting Merlin a job here. "Thank you, sir."

The Chief nodded, accepting the gesture, and turned to his son, who was staring on at him with something like surprise hidden in his sky blue depths. "Are there any new leads with this case?" he asked, gesturing to the still paused video footage on the telly.

The Inspector glanced at the flat screen before turning to his father, and Merlin could sense a change in his character. Gone was the easy going detective who joked with his friends and called him an idiot, and here was the Arthur that he turned into when he was before King Uther, and standing straight, formal, bland, he had schooled his expression to one of neutrality. That was what Uther's presence did: it made you feel smaller, like a blade of thin grass bowing to the mighty sun. So maybe Uther hadn't changed all that much if his own son still couldn't truly be himself around him.

"No, Father. Not that we've found so far."

"Well, that is a shame isn't it?" Uther said, not sounding remorseful in any term of the word. "But no matter. I have a new case for you-"

"-but Father, there's still a chance more evidence could turn up."

"Until something does then, work on this; we don't have time to chase down practical jokers," he continued, making his own viewpoint on the perpetrators clear. "There was a murder on Canal Street up on the north side of London. I want you and Colin to go check it out."

Arthur's eye narrowed marginally, thoughtfully. They'd just been on Canal Street this morning, buying those doughnuts Colin and Gwaine had so cleanly polished off. It was usually such a peaceful place, so what had happened? "Just Colin and me?"

Nodding, the Chief glanced over at the other four men in the room. "I have other assignments as well that need seeing to."

The detective only bobbed his head in response, and Uther spoke again. "Rupert, Adet, come and see me in my office in fifteen minutes."

Both nodded shortly in response, and Uther seemed to examine Colin from head to toe once more before turning on his heel and, with every regality afforded a king, walking out. The tension seemed to slowly clear after he left, leaving everyone to take a calming exhale.

"He always makes me nervous," Gwaine murmured.

Percival seemed to agree and set his coffee on the table. "I don't think he likes me much either."

The warlock felt a smile coming onto his face just as Arthur nudged his arm with his elbow. "Come on, Colin, let's go."

"Already?" he complained. The smile grew, and he ran a hand through his hair, making it stick up on the front. "I just got here."

'Well, now we're leaving again," Arthur responded, face neutral, and it reminded Merlin of their banter and teasings in Camelot and of how the king would hide his amusement with short, clipped answers.

Anticipation rushed through him, replacing the cautious anxiety from Uther's visit. He rose out of his chair obediently and waved the others a short goodbye before following Arthur out into the main room. Merlin shoved his fists in his pockets as a chill ran down him. Gwen was right; they really did keep this place freezing.

The lift passed on their left, silver doors gleaming, and Merlin hopped to catch up to Arthur. "Where're we going?"

The detective glanced back at him, still walking. "I need to get my gun."

"Oh." Merlin wasn't sure why he felt surprise at the idea of a detective using a gun, but maybe it was more of the idea of Arthur using a gun. He was so used to his friend carrying a sword that a gun -something that had killed millions throughout the years- seemed so... not Arthur.

The warlock had been in dozens of wars, hundreds, and he had seen those pieces of metal abused and used for more selfish purposes. As the human race became more versatile, so did their weapons, and they created new ways of killing each other. And while it was true that Merlin himself had carried a gun more than once, he still wasn't comfortable with them, even less so than he really was carrying a sword in Camelot.

"What?" the former-king asked, glancing back once more as they turned the corner.

Merlin shook his head twice. "Nothing."

But Arthur still detected something wrong, and his voice softened, reading it as it was. "I need my gun, Colin. We're going into the field."

"You didn't use it yesterday."

"I didn't think there could be danger in a museum. And someone was killed this time."

Merlin's lips thinned, but he had to agree; someone was killed, and there was a higher risk of danger. Suddenly, a small smile pulled on the side of his lips. Danger, with Arthur, he was used to.

"Besides," Arthur continued, teasingly and with a smile, "someone's got to protect you."

The smirk on his lips grew, and Merlin laughed. "I can see how much faith you have in me. I can protect myself, you know." He'd been doing it for long enough. But Arthur didn't know about his magic, or any of the skills he'd picked up in his fifteen hundred years of traveling the world.

"What? Look at you, you couldn't harm a fly."

Merlin snorted and narrowed his eyes he scoffed sarcastically. "Oh thanks. You're very inspiring, Arthur, really."

The detective turned another corner and looked over his shoulder, smiling with humor. "You're welcome."

Blue eyes crinkling at the sides, Merlin stopped when they finally came to a counter. While the bottom half was white wall, the top half was silver grate, and there was only a small opening in the center, maybe about the size of a computer monitor, where the two spaces were allowed to connect. Behind the counter sat a rather bored looking man watching something on the telly beside him. He was rather heavy set, with deep brown hair and permanent dimples from smiling

"Jeff!" Arthur greeted.

The man, Jeff apparently, perked up immediately and stuck his hand through the opening, shaking Arthur's hand in response. "Arthur! How're ya doin'?" His accent seemed more Scottish than English, and Merlin's eyebrows rose, interested. He'd been to Scotland hundreds of times, and every time, something interesting happened while he was there.

The detective pulled his hand back and rested against the counter. "Good, fine. Just here to pick up my gun."

Jeff's face scrunched up with contempt and amusement. "Nasty little things, in my opinion." But he turned around and reached his hand into a bin on his right, bringing out a clipboard beside his telly. "You know what to do: sign here, initial there, there."

The sound of a ballpoint pen scratching paper filled the quiet before Arthur set his pen back on the paper, sliding it through the opening and towards Jeff. He, in turn, slid the weapon and holster through the grate as he took the clipboard and sat back down, smirking as Arthur clipped the holster to his belt and slid the gun snugly into the leather holder.

"He won't need one, will he?" Jeff asked, glancing at Merlin. The warlock's brow scrunched with amusement as his lip curled, and Arthur glanced back at him with the same expression on his handsome face.

"Nah. I'm still not convinced he can walk without tripping."

Merlin's heart absolutely soared, despite the jab, and he laughed genuinely. "Again, so much faith."

The blond smiled and turned back to the man behind the grate, nodding thankfully. "We'll see you later, Jeff."

Raising his eyebrow before turning back to the telly, Jeff smirked. "Yeah. See ya' later."

Arthur nodded and turned, bumping Merlin on the arm steer him down the hallway. "Heyho, it's off to work we go."

They arrived at Canal Street fifteen minutes later and as Merlin climbed out of the car, his eyes narrowed against the bright sunlight. Now, instead of Imagine Dragons "Demons" playing through the car's stereo from Arthur's IPOD, the sound of running car engines, walking bystanders, and idle chatter filled his hearing, as well as the occasion static from police's two-way radios. He walked around the car and towards the sidewalk, hopping over the curb to stand beside Arthur as he took everything in.

On their left was the street, jammed with people only concerned about getting to work on time, and completely ignorant about the murder that took place only a few feet from them. On their right, some small shops: Starbucks, Subway, the doughnut shop that Arthur had talked about on the way here. People casually walked in and out of the stores, only offering a small glance at the official vehicles parked on either side of the street and the cordoned off alleyway.

It almost made Merlin sick, how ignorant people could be to their surroundings, how many things they miss. So many things happened in one day, both amazing and horrifying, but people nowadays could only see so much. Sometimes, ignorance is bliss, as in this world, where human beings only need care about their lives and holding them together and in place.

It was one reason that the warlock didn't watch the news anymore; all they spoke of, in hurried monotone voices, were acts of violence and discouraging subjects, and they failed to see the bright side of things. Sure, they would brush against things, like a celebrity birthday, or any special holidays that went by, but they couldn't grasp the true greatness, the beauty that came with each day.

And while it was true that Merlin, as of late, couldn't either, his eyes were beginning to open again. Now that Arthur was back, he felt like he was getting a fresh start, a second chance, and he was noticing things he hadn't noticed in years. Like the refreshing crispness of the air, the scent of newly sprouted flowers, how the clouds could create an infinite amount of shapes and how they were possibly better performers than actors on television. The little things.

Arthur walking forward pulled him from his thoughts, and Merlin blinked as a policeman, in a yellow and black reflector vest, raised the neon yellow 'Caution' tape for the detective. He lowered it for Merlin though, who had been left a few feet behind from his daze, and Arthur glanced back around just as Merlin reached the disapproving looking officer.

"He's with me."

Glancing at the blond detective, the man, whose badge said 'Williams,' wordlessly raised the tape, and Merlin stepped under, thanking him before catching up to Arthur.

"Keep up, will you?"

Their eyes met briefly, and Merlin grinned at the teasing look on his friend's azure orbs. He looked ahead again, and just as suddenly, Merlin's smile wavered into a hardened frown. The crime scene, which had been blocked off and hidden from the general public, wasn't a nice sight, and one Merlin hadn't seen in a very long time.

The victim, from what Merlin could tell by looking, was a middle aged -maybe thirty- Chinese man. He wore blue, denim jeans and a brown leather sports jacket with a blue shirt poking out from beneath the zipper. His eyes were closed, and he looked to the entire world to be sleeping... Except for the dark crimson stain around his abdomen.

The warlock bent down just as Arthur leaned away to talk to a woman who looked like the coroner, and he carefully examined the wound. Dried blood gathered around the jacket's abdomen area and beneath the victim, though the blood around the wound itself still looked fresh. Merlin leaned forward, eyes narrowing with concentration as he looked at the jacket. From the entry wound, which was about an inch wide and had next to no height, Merlin guessed that it was this stab wound that had killed the man.

"...but we won't know anything definite until I get him to the lab."

Standing and turning the same time, Merlin heard the woman finish her sentence just as Arthur and the coroner stepped nearer to the body. The detective glanced over at him, putting his hands in his pockets. "Peeking already, Colin?"

"Well, I am a doctor," he answered, looking at the red-headed woman with mild humor. Arthur stepped nearer to the body, head bowed with respect as he gave the man a once-over before looking away again. "Now what?"

Gravel crunched beneath his feet as the blond stepped next to the warlock. "Now, we investigate."

Merlin snorted and laughed, using his shoulder to bump his friend. "Really? I would have never guessed."

"Idiot."

"Prat."

And so it began.

Sorry if I missed anything, guys. It's been a long day. I'm off to bed. Goodnight, guys. ;)

Please review.