"So, has the little project I assigned you proved fruitful?"
Fruitful. As if Merlin's project was an orchard, or maybe animal husbandry. To the best of his knowledge, it was possible to use the word fruitful about animal husbandry.
"So far, things could have gone better."
Of course, this really, really wasn't about fruit or animal husbandry.
"Hm. I noticed you had not yet returned to your desk before I let him go - did he seem suspicious?"
"Not terribly. I pretended I was there to ask about the Palmer account, but he said you'd already talked to him about it."
"Yes, that was my excuse for calling him into my office."
Had he had any other boss than Uther Pendragon, Merlin would have taken the opportunity to joke about the fact that they had both concluded on the same diversion, 'great minds think alike' or something like that. But in this office, implying that he thought himself a 'great mind' or, horror of horrors, on the boss's level, was unheard of, even as a joke. Instead, he said nothing, and let Uther continue.
"Never mind that. Tell me about what you've found."
"Well, there was nothing in his office that gave him away. I copied down the numbers in his address book, but as far as I can see, they are all people in this company, apart from a few investors. He might keep a separate record of personal numbers."
Or he might be a pathetic workaholic loser. Merlin knew for a fact that the latter was the case.
"I see. And through other means of investigation?"
"Well, I, eh. I spent some time parked outside his house to scout for suspicious activity."
"And you saw nothing?"
"Well, eh, turns out he recognised my car, and he came out to ask what I was doing. I feigned surprise and said I'd gotten lost. He, um." This story had sounded hilarious when he and Arthur thought it up the previous evening, but now it just sounded odd and very improbable, "He invited me in for a cup of tea and helped me find the directions home. Before you ask, yes, I did have a snoop around under the cover of going to the bathroom; there was an extra toothbrush, but nothing that could disclose any identity. Unless you have a convenient and easy to use DNA testing kit at hand."
"He said what?"
"He said he'd look into getting his hands on one."
"You can't be serious."
"Yes, I am. He commended the idea. It's one of the closest calls there's ever been to him paying me an actual compliment. I'm afraid, my dear, that your father is absolutely insane. Also, he has no qualms whatsoever about invading your privacy."
"This is all a bit much."
Arthur slumped down in one of Merlin's rather small leather armchairs, of which there were three, situated in a like sided triangle on his living room rug. Merlin had heard it said, by Arthur more than anyone else, but by other people as well, that only he could think those were a remotely good idea. He stood by the choice vehemently - they were cheap, and if they weren't exactly stylish, they were certainly unique.
"That's one way of putting it," he commented, sitting down in one of the other chairs and proceeding to use Arthur's lap as a footstool. Arthur grumbled, but made no explicit objections. "He's very into the idea of me trying to make friends with you, actually. So that I can invite myself into your house and pick up whatever debris your mystery bloke leaves behind. I did put it to him that he's already in a good position to surveil you, being your family and all that, but he feels you'd be too vigilant around him."
"You're acting as if this is some big joke."
"Well, I don't really think there is much of an alternative. I can laugh about it, or I can despair about it, and I know which one I prefer. At least this is an opportunity to interact with his blessing." He cocked his head to the side and made an effort to catch Arthur's pensive stare. "You do understand now why we can't tell him about us, right? There's no knowing what he'll do."
"Right," Arthur agreed, but he looked far from happy.
Some days later, after having been officially ''round for tea' at Arthur's several times, Merlin came to his desk to find all his papers - all of them, from important reports to post-it notes reminding him to remind Uther about things he didn't need reminding about, but would be displeased if his assistant failed to mention - folded into elaborate origami creations. This inspired a cocktail of different emotions. He was annoyed, of course, but also impressed with the effort Arthur had made in learning a new craft just to annoy him, and there was that warm, satisfactory glee that always came with discovering one of Arthur's pranks. This was after all the only way they publicly displayed affection.
The situation was very inconvenient, though. Luckily, Elena was at hand to help him unfold the pieces.
"Ooh, some of these are right artworks! Look at this hare! I never knew Arthur could fold," she cooed, and Merlin was almost miffed at her praise of his adversary, even though he had been thinking along the same lines himself. He tuned her prattle out for a bit, and hastened to hide the motif on a blue paper crane, which turned out to be a sketch of a heart, quite obviously in Arthur's style. The big sap. Merlin crunched the sheet into a ball and shoved it into the bin before Elena could look at it, hoping there were no other secret messages about, but he could not suppress a charmed little grin which made her raise an eyebrow.
"Thanks," he said, to distract her before the question was asked, "I really appreciate your help."
"My pleasure. It's exciting to take part; you've long since become a spectator sport around here, you know."
"With you and Gwaine as the main supporters, yes, I am aware. Do you pick sides? Are you my cheerleader?"
"To be honest, I think we all cheer for you. Arthur did always have a bit of a reputation. Although," she relented, holding up a particularly surprising koi fish, "He does seem to have his talents."
Merlin chuckled at that.
"That's not to say that Gwaine and I don't have our share of rivalry. There is some betting going on, but I will spare you the details."
"I am eternally grateful for that. I'm glad there is some competition involved, though. Makes for a far more interesting story. I imagine this will end with the two of you having a blowout that inevitably leads to a declaration of undying love between you?"
For that, he was hit on the head with a newly unfolded budget redraft.
"The saddest thing is," Elena sighed, "We probably will end up together eventually. But I am making it my business to live life to the fullest for as long as I can before settling with that wanker! I am still young, goddamn it, and I want my freedom!"
"How inspiring," Merlin replied dryly, "Oh, here's the schedule for the Salgard conference. I'd better get that to him. See you later," he said, patting her on the head before adding, "My knight in shining armour."
"Laters."
"Ah, Emrys, there you are. Any progress on the Arthur situation?"
"Getting there," Merlin lied. The real 'situation', which possibly differed from what Uther might think it was, was the distasteful pickle of what to tell Mr. Pendragon to keep him off the scent, and that was getting harder to deal with with each meeting.
"You are making friends with him?"
"Well, I'd say we're… Getting closer?" Merlin ventured, placing the crumpled Salgard schedule on Uther's desk to a look of disapproval.
"What on Earth happened to that?"
"I don't know, sir."
That answer didn't seem to go down entirely well, but the boss said no more of it, leaning back in his seat and skimming the document.
"I am glad you're getting along," he said with an air of distraction, "That does place you at a rather advantageous angle. In fact - " He stopped in his tracks and stared out into midair with a furrowed brow, obviously contemplating a new idea, before slowly continuing his speech. "Finding out exactly who this inconvenient man is is only a step on the way. If we could disrupt the relationship without having to get to him, that would be even more efficient."
Merlin was at this point slightly confused and very uncomfortable. It was sickening to hear himself referred to as nothing but an inconvenience, and to hear plans being laid to thwart his loving relationship without any concern for his feelings.
"There are certain things I cannot ask of you, of course. I would not dream of requesting anything inappropriate, and I know that you and Arthur do not always… Get along."
At that Merlin's mind drifted to the massive argument they had manufactured last year in order to secure holiday dates that allowed for a shared trip. It had involved a lot of shouting and Uther bizarrely acting as a peace broker, suggesting the 'compromise' that they bend the company rules and let two employees have time off simultaneously. Merlin was still proud of the scheme, but the cogs were still turning i his head towards what plan of Uther's the perceived enmity it evidenced might hinder. He therefore said nothing, let his confusion show on his face as polite bemusement, and waited for his employer to carry on.
"I may not have known all the details about my son's life as well as I thought, but I do know his heart. He is nothing if not honourable." Merlin had to suppress the urge to vigorously agree; Arthur's bloody nobility had him constantly suggesting that they come clean, and fretting about deception as if it were a capital offence. "And loyal to a fault. But if he should stray, I have no doubt he would immediately end the relationship…"
"What? You want me to seduce Arthur's boyfriend? I don't even know who this guy is…"
Merlin's voice trailed off at the unimpressed expression on Uther's face.
"I was thinking the other way around."
"Oh. You… Oh." He cleared his throat. "I'll… I'll think about it."
"Wonderful. That is more than I could have asked."
Exiting Uther's office, Merlin immediately found his phone to text Arthur.
I think your dad might have just told me to sleep with you.
The reply came within seconds.
Well, at least that is one order you can satisfactorily fulfil.
In spite of the flippant response, Merlin knew all too well that Arthur was not best pleased. There was not much to be pleased about, really. Ironic as the situation was, nothing seemed to be turning out well for anyone involved. He sighed before writing a reply.
By the way, thanks for the cranes, you dick.
