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merlin_holidays2010-12-28 08:50 am
merlin-hols.livejournal.com) wrote in merlin_holidays2010-12-28 08:50 am
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Happy Merlin Holidays, ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
cassie_black12!
Title: Going Once, Going Twice
Recipient:cassie_black12
Author:ayane_tsurugi
Rating: PG-13
Pairings: Arthur/Merlin (Leon/Gwaine, Gwen/Morgana, Gwen/Morgana/Mordred, Gwen/Lance, Will/Elena, Morgause/Cenred, Nimueh/Myror, Valiant/Sophia, Tristan/Vivian, Edwin/Freya, Uther/Catrina - only some of these are actually true)
Word Count: ~2900
Warnings: Alternating tenses. Language. Utter insanity (you've seen the pairings list, right?) and fluff, because that's all I can write anymore. Also, I know next to nothing about advertising.
Summary: No, it is NOT like Grey's Anatomy. Except that it totally is. And what have I told you about ordering those awful American telly programmes? (Or, the lives and loves of the employees of Camelot, Inc. as told by aconcerned very, very amused onlooker.)
Author's Notes:cassie_black12, I threw as many of your likes in here as I could, and I hope you enjoy it even though it doesn't even come close to any of your actual prompts. Thanks to K and A, who didn't tell me how stupid I was for switching ideas at the last minute, and to the mods for their patience with me.
Disclaimer: The characters depicted herein belong to Shine and BBC. I make no profit from this endeavor.
Good Morning. Did you sleep well?
I slept brilliantly, thank you for asking.
Are you comfortable? I could make you some tea or – ?
All right, all right, keep your trousers on. You wanted to know about where I work, right?
Well, Camelot’s an advertising firm run by the famous, infinitely talented Uther Pendragon (what? He’s my boss, I have to talk about him like that). But that’s not really important. Honestly, only Mr. Pendragon and a couple of the more eager interns could probably tell you what actual work goes on.
No, any story about Camelot, Inc. is all about the people that work there and their many (many, many) relationships.
But since we don’t have two weeks, I’ll tell you one of the more romantic stories that have passed through Camelot’s offices.
Oh, everyone knows this story. It’s the story of the boss’s son and his sister’s personal assistant, who stole his heart; the story of Arthur and Merlin.
Just remember, though: you wanted to know.
*****
What most people don’t know is that Merlin was actually supposed to be Arthur’s assistant when he first came to Camelot.
But then, of course, Morgana saw his file. They were relaxing in his office after hours the night before Merlin Emrys was due to start his post, drinking glasses of scotch from the bottle Arthur kept in the bottom drawer of his desk. “Oh, wow. This one’s adorable.” She smirked, waving the snapshot in front of Arthur’s face, and he scowled. “I don’t know how you’ll ever get any work done with this sitting outside your office all the time.”
Obviously, Arthur had noticed how attractive his assistant-to-be was. He wasn’t blind. The fact of the matter was, he didn’t date within the office. He never had, unlike everyone else (except his father, he hoped, but he didn’t dwell on that because the mental images were just unnecessary), and having an assistant who was admittedly exactly his type wasn’t going to change that.
“You might not be a professional, Morgana, but I assure you I am. I’ll get every bit of my work done no matter who’s sitting out there.”
Morgana raised a disbelieving eyebrow for a long moment – she knew him far too well, it was true – before her mouth twisted into a mischievous smirk. She leaned forward, resting her forearms on his desk, and said, in her most challenging tone, “I’ll play you for him.”
He almost refused, had his mouth open to, in fact – Morgana didn’t need another office boy toy, and besides, wouldn’t Gwen mind? – when he remembered that Morgana getting Merlin would mean he got Leon. Leon, his best mate and arguably the best personal assistant employed by Camelot.
And so, with no sense of irony, he followed up his declaration of professionalism by thrusting his hand toward his sister across the desk and saying, “Deal.”
*****
“Welcome, ladies and gentlemen,” Drake says from the podium, “to the 2010 Camelot, Inc. Holiday Charity Auction.”
There’s a scattering of applause and a couple of excited shouts. Arthur rolls his eyes good-naturedly toward Gwaine, who smirks in return. This is the first time Arthur had come to one of these intending to bid on someone, and everyone seems to know about it. He glares at Morgana even though she’s looking in the other direction.
“Since you all know why we’re here, I’ll just skip to the first, shall I? The wonderful personal assistant to Mr. Uther Pendragon himself, Guinevere Smith!”
Gwen walks out onto the small impromptu stage they’ve made for the company Christmas party and more than one eye in the room flickers to Morgana.
“We’ll start the bidding at thirty pounds. Do I have any –”
“Five hundred pounds,” Morgana interjects, and Arthur hears a lad he thinks works in accounting make a distraught noise that he quickly stifles when Morgana glares at him.
To his credit, Drake simply quirks an amused smile and says, “Do I hear five-ten? Five hundred and ten pounds? No? Going once, twice, and sold once again to Miss Pendragon.” He grins at Gwen and motions her toward the rest of the crowd. “Congratulations, Miss Smith. I believe that’s five years in a row.”
Gwen just returns the smile and goes to Morgana’s side, placing a kiss on her cheek.
The next person called on-stage is one of the interns, a quiet, pretty girl whose name he thinks is Freya something. From what he’s heard, she spends a lot of her time in the art department, so he’s not surprised when a short bidding war breaks out between two of their designers.
She’s blushing bright pink when Edwin Muirden calls out a flustered “Three hundred!” and is finally declared the winning bidder.
*****
Hmm?
Oh right, the auction. I should probably explain that.
Every year at the company ‘Holiday Celebration’, all of the assistants and interns are auctioned off to the other employees for dates.
It probably says something about the state of our social lives outside the office that I’ve never seen anyone go for less than two-hundred pounds. And that Mr. Pendragon always throws an extra few hundred pounds into our Christmas bonuses just for the occasion.
Everyone gets really into it, though. There are always a bunch of bidding wars, even over the ones that are already, um, spoken for.
Unless they’re spoken for by Morgana. No one wants to fight Morgana.
*****
The story everyone knows starts the first time Arthur met Merlin face-to-face.
It didn’t go well.
In the space of two minutes, Arthur called Merlin four different versions of idiot and asked if he was incapable of using his truly freakish ears to listen when his superiors are talking, and Merlin became the first person in Camelot history to call the boss’s son a pompous arse to his face and still have his job ten minutes later.
Morgana kicked Arthur out of her department for the rest of the day and nearly gave Merlin a raise on the spot.
Meetings two and three didn’t go any better, and meeting four might have come to physical blows had Leon not been there to discretely smack Arthur in the back of the head at the first sign of clenched fists.
It wasn’t until meeting five that things started to change between them. It happened by chance; one day after work a few weeks after Merlin started, they both ended up in the same pub.
Arthur knew he was there. He knew Merlin knew he was there. But neither of them made any effort to approach the other, and that was just fine with him. He’d come for a drink, not to get scowled at and called an arse by some idiot who didn’t even know him. So instead, he settled for stealing surreptitious glances whenever he could and pretending that Merlin didn’t keep catching him at it.
After a while, Merlin disappeared from the seat he’d been occupying, making Arthur frown for about ten seconds, which was how long it took for him to register that Merlin had made his way over to Arthur’s booth and was now sitting flush against his side.
“Okay, so, I am really sick of getting hit on, so I’m going to pretend you’re my boyfriend for the night and if you sit there and don’t be an arse about it, I’ll cover your drinks, sound good?”
Arthur gaped for a long moment, though he’d never admit to it, then nodded. He didn’t particularly want to watch Merlin getting hit on anymore either, the reasoning behind which he didn’t investigate and blamed firmly on the liquor.
“I’d use Will usually, but he’s off on a date like a good straight bloke and I’m left to fend for myself.” Merlin rolled his eyes and downed half of his drink. “They always look so disappointed,” he said wistfully.
“I didn’t know you were into blokes,” Arthur said, because his social filter had obviously abandoned him completely.
Merlin turned to him with a lopsided grin. “Really? Morgana picked it out right off.”
“Of course she did,” Arthur snorted.
They stayed like that for a long time, pressed together all down one side, talking about everything and nothing in a way they’d probably never have managed within the walls of Camelot. The next morning, Merlin brought him coffee that rivaled Leon’s and, somehow, it turned into taking lunch together three times a week and Friday nights at the pub.
They were the only ones that never called them dates.
*****
Leon goes for nearly four hundred and fifty pounds. It isn’t surprising.
What is surprising is that he’s won by Gwaine, the head of the art department, and seems genuinely pleased by it. More than.
Arthur’s always suspected that Gwaine had something going with his own assistant, but Elena’s up next and all he does is shoot her a thumbs-up before turning back to Leon and whispering things in his ear that Arthur doesn’t want to know about if they’re making his best mate blush like that.
Gwaine does throw in a perfunctory bid at the beginning of Elena’s auction, perhaps to make sure whoever wins is worthy, but goes quiet after that and it’s actually Will, who Arthur recognizes as Merlin’s friend and former fake boyfriend on pub nights, who’s got a date three minutes and three hundred seventy pounds later.
Arthur huffs when, once again, the next person up isn’t Merlin, and Morgana shoots him a much-too-amused smirk.
The next two auctions pass in a blur, much like Gwen’s. It’s common knowledge that Nimueh, who (ironically, in Arthur’s opinion) heads the public relations department, and Cenred, the head of Accounting, have been fucking each other’s assistants for the better part of a year, so when Morgause goes to Cenred and Myror goes to Nimueh, no one’s all that surprised.
*****
What do you mean, ‘don’t you have a workplace relationships policy?’ Of course we do.
And, like all good rules, it has a foolproof loophole that we exploit to the highest of our abilities.
You see, it’s difficult to punish people for having a relationship inside the workplace if everyone in the workplace is pursuing a relationship with a coworker.
Yes, everyone. Really. (Don’t look at me like that.)
Well, except for Mr. Pendragon. He’s the only one with a publicly acknowledged relationship outside the company. His wife Catrina would probably have something to say about it if he started seeing one of his employees on the side.
To his credit, Arthur held out the longest. But once Merlin came, it was really only a matter of time before he caved.
*****
“When are you going to stop being an idiot and ask that poor boy out?”
Morgana was leaning back against the wall just inside his office door, having walked in for the millionth time without bothering to knock.
“And good morning to you as well, Morgana. Kindly stop harassing me and go back to your own department.” Arthur raised an expectant eyebrow in her direction, which she calmly returned, not moving to comply.
“There’s only so much idiocy I can take, you know. You of all people should understand that I don’t suffer fools.”
“Then I would suggest you find a fool and inflict yourself on him, somewhere far away from my office.”
She shot him a severely unimpressed look and crossed her arms. “Leon tells me you’ve been pining.”
Arthur finally turned fully away from his computer screen to face the door. “Et tu, Leon?” he called out, and he heard his backstabbing, so-not-getting-that-raise personal assistant let out a loud snort.
“It’s for your own good, Julius. If I’m going to have to listen to you talk about him all the time, it should at least be because you’re finally getting regular sex again.” He opened his mouth to protest, but Leon cut him off. “And don’t even pretend you haven’t been talking about him nonstop. I have some choice bits that I’d be more than willing to send to the entire company if you’re having trouble remembering.”
“If you don’t get in there,” Morgana interjected, looking far too amused now, “someone else is going to. I know for a fact Owain’s been taking detours by Merlin’s desk a couple times a day for the past two weeks and doing some really obvious flirting.”
Arthur’s hands didn’t clench into tense fists under his desk. They didn’t. Because that would be ridiculous. He had no reason to be possessive. Merlin wasn’t his.
Even if he should have been.
Damn it.
“Fine. Fine. What should I do, then?”
*****
They auction off the remaining three interns next, cementing Arthur’s suspicions that Morgana made sure Merlin came up last.
He’s going to make her life miserable after this.
Sophia and Vivian are easily the most attractive interns they’ve had in a long while, so the bidding wars for them go on for a while. Arthur’s pretty sure every non-attached straight bloke puts in a bid or two on at least one of them.
Drake can hardly keep up, the girls both leer suggestively at every big jump in the bids, and he can see Morgana watching with thinly veiled disgust.
Sophia goes to some annoying bloke named Valiant that Arthur thinks works for Nimueh, and he pays a truly disturbing seven hundred pounds for what will likely be a one-night stand.
Vivian sells for just slightly more to Tristan, who Arthur is pretty sure went to University with Uther. He carefully doesn’t think about it too closely.
The last intern, Mordred, looks barely legal and is creepy enough that Arthur prefers not to make eye contact unless he has to. Of course, Morgana thinks he’s wonderful.
She makes the winning bid of two hundred and fifty pounds. He kisses her cheek, and then Gwen’s.
Arthur doesn’t think about that either.
Drake calls out Merlin’s name, and Arthur’s heart rate picks up.
*****
No, it is not just like Grey’s Anatomy.
Except that it totally is.
And what have I told you about ordering those awful American telly programmes?
*****
It’d been a long time since the last time Arthur asked anyone for a date.
He wasn’t quite sure how to do it anymore.
After several false starts in person that only made him look like an idiot and had Morgana doubled over in laughter, he eventually tried asking Merlin out over the phone.
And ended up discussing Morgana’s schedule for the next Tuesday.
When he hung up, he let his head fall forward onto his desk with a dull thud.
“I’m judging you right now,” Leon said from the doorway. Arthur groaned.
“This is hopeless. I’m destined for a life of celibacy while Merlin rides off into the bloody sunset with Owain.”
Leon sighed in a long-suffering way that was really just unfair. “You could make a gesture. Something that doesn’t involve, you know…talking. At all.”
Arthur glared up at him.
“What would you suggest then, since you’re so brilliant?”
Leon shrugged. “Buy him.”
“Buy him? He’s not a prostitu—” Arthur started, then grinned broadly. “Oh.”
Leon grinned back.
*****
Up on stage, Merlin grins sheepishly out at the crowd. When he spots Arthur, the grin widens and Arthur feels himself return it, barely resisting the urge to wave.
Bloody hell, what has Merlin done to him?
Drake has barely announced that the bidding will start, once again, at thirty pounds, and several voices start piping in. Will’s first, shouting out a “one hundred” and smirking over at Arthur; Morgana shouts “two hundred”; Arthur sees Leon whisper something frantically to Gwaine, who then shouts “three fifty!”
Arthur hates all of them.
“Nine hundred!” he shouts, and Merlin turns wide, bemused eyes on him. Arthur can only grin at him again as Drake says “going once, twice” and by the time he shouts “Sold!” Arthur has an armful of Merlin, who has jumped off the stage and thrown long arms around him.
He can hear a few distinct voices laughing at them, but he can’t bring himself to care in the least as he wraps his arms around Merlin and hears his prize whisper “It’s about bloody time” in his ear.
When Merlin’s lips meet his, he can’t help but wholeheartedly agree.
*****
And that’s all of it. The story of Camelot, Inc. via Merlin and Arthur.
“Wait,” Lance said. “That’s it? What about now? Are they still together?”
“Going on three years now,” Gwen said, refilling her tea cup. “They’re not even on-and-off, like most of the couples there. It’s kind-of ridiculous how perfect they are together. They’ve never fought for more than a few hours. Morgana says it’s nauseating.”
“Also, how do you even know all of this? You work directly for Uther Pendragon, there’s no way you could have been there to witness everything.”
She smirked. “Morgana may or may not have Arthur’s office bugged. Blackmail purposes, you see.”
“Right,” Lance snorted. “Also, I know you’ve told me that everyone believes you and Morgana have been together since University, but how do you guys explain her buying someone else at the auction every year?”
“Our annual threesome.”
Lance made a bit of a choking sound, like he couldn’t decide whether to laugh or be affronted that people thought this stuff about his wife, then shook his head.
“You’re right, I wanted to know. I should know better by now.”
Recipient:
cassie_black12Author:
ayane_tsurugiRating: PG-13
Pairings: Arthur/Merlin (Leon/Gwaine, Gwen/Morgana, Gwen/Morgana/Mordred, Gwen/Lance, Will/Elena, Morgause/Cenred, Nimueh/Myror, Valiant/Sophia, Tristan/Vivian, Edwin/Freya, Uther/Catrina - only some of these are actually true)
Word Count: ~2900
Warnings: Alternating tenses. Language. Utter insanity (you've seen the pairings list, right?) and fluff, because that's all I can write anymore. Also, I know next to nothing about advertising.
Summary: No, it is NOT like Grey's Anatomy. Except that it totally is. And what have I told you about ordering those awful American telly programmes? (Or, the lives and loves of the employees of Camelot, Inc. as told by a
Author's Notes:
cassie_black12, I threw as many of your likes in here as I could, and I hope you enjoy it even though it doesn't even come close to any of your actual prompts. Thanks to K and A, who didn't tell me how stupid I was for switching ideas at the last minute, and to the mods for their patience with me.Disclaimer: The characters depicted herein belong to Shine and BBC. I make no profit from this endeavor.
Good Morning. Did you sleep well?
I slept brilliantly, thank you for asking.
Are you comfortable? I could make you some tea or – ?
All right, all right, keep your trousers on. You wanted to know about where I work, right?
Well, Camelot’s an advertising firm run by the famous, infinitely talented Uther Pendragon (what? He’s my boss, I have to talk about him like that). But that’s not really important. Honestly, only Mr. Pendragon and a couple of the more eager interns could probably tell you what actual work goes on.
No, any story about Camelot, Inc. is all about the people that work there and their many (many, many) relationships.
But since we don’t have two weeks, I’ll tell you one of the more romantic stories that have passed through Camelot’s offices.
Oh, everyone knows this story. It’s the story of the boss’s son and his sister’s personal assistant, who stole his heart; the story of Arthur and Merlin.
Just remember, though: you wanted to know.
*****
What most people don’t know is that Merlin was actually supposed to be Arthur’s assistant when he first came to Camelot.
But then, of course, Morgana saw his file. They were relaxing in his office after hours the night before Merlin Emrys was due to start his post, drinking glasses of scotch from the bottle Arthur kept in the bottom drawer of his desk. “Oh, wow. This one’s adorable.” She smirked, waving the snapshot in front of Arthur’s face, and he scowled. “I don’t know how you’ll ever get any work done with this sitting outside your office all the time.”
Obviously, Arthur had noticed how attractive his assistant-to-be was. He wasn’t blind. The fact of the matter was, he didn’t date within the office. He never had, unlike everyone else (except his father, he hoped, but he didn’t dwell on that because the mental images were just unnecessary), and having an assistant who was admittedly exactly his type wasn’t going to change that.
“You might not be a professional, Morgana, but I assure you I am. I’ll get every bit of my work done no matter who’s sitting out there.”
Morgana raised a disbelieving eyebrow for a long moment – she knew him far too well, it was true – before her mouth twisted into a mischievous smirk. She leaned forward, resting her forearms on his desk, and said, in her most challenging tone, “I’ll play you for him.”
He almost refused, had his mouth open to, in fact – Morgana didn’t need another office boy toy, and besides, wouldn’t Gwen mind? – when he remembered that Morgana getting Merlin would mean he got Leon. Leon, his best mate and arguably the best personal assistant employed by Camelot.
And so, with no sense of irony, he followed up his declaration of professionalism by thrusting his hand toward his sister across the desk and saying, “Deal.”
*****
“Welcome, ladies and gentlemen,” Drake says from the podium, “to the 2010 Camelot, Inc. Holiday Charity Auction.”
There’s a scattering of applause and a couple of excited shouts. Arthur rolls his eyes good-naturedly toward Gwaine, who smirks in return. This is the first time Arthur had come to one of these intending to bid on someone, and everyone seems to know about it. He glares at Morgana even though she’s looking in the other direction.
“Since you all know why we’re here, I’ll just skip to the first, shall I? The wonderful personal assistant to Mr. Uther Pendragon himself, Guinevere Smith!”
Gwen walks out onto the small impromptu stage they’ve made for the company Christmas party and more than one eye in the room flickers to Morgana.
“We’ll start the bidding at thirty pounds. Do I have any –”
“Five hundred pounds,” Morgana interjects, and Arthur hears a lad he thinks works in accounting make a distraught noise that he quickly stifles when Morgana glares at him.
To his credit, Drake simply quirks an amused smile and says, “Do I hear five-ten? Five hundred and ten pounds? No? Going once, twice, and sold once again to Miss Pendragon.” He grins at Gwen and motions her toward the rest of the crowd. “Congratulations, Miss Smith. I believe that’s five years in a row.”
Gwen just returns the smile and goes to Morgana’s side, placing a kiss on her cheek.
The next person called on-stage is one of the interns, a quiet, pretty girl whose name he thinks is Freya something. From what he’s heard, she spends a lot of her time in the art department, so he’s not surprised when a short bidding war breaks out between two of their designers.
She’s blushing bright pink when Edwin Muirden calls out a flustered “Three hundred!” and is finally declared the winning bidder.
*****
Hmm?
Oh right, the auction. I should probably explain that.
Every year at the company ‘Holiday Celebration’, all of the assistants and interns are auctioned off to the other employees for dates.
It probably says something about the state of our social lives outside the office that I’ve never seen anyone go for less than two-hundred pounds. And that Mr. Pendragon always throws an extra few hundred pounds into our Christmas bonuses just for the occasion.
Everyone gets really into it, though. There are always a bunch of bidding wars, even over the ones that are already, um, spoken for.
Unless they’re spoken for by Morgana. No one wants to fight Morgana.
*****
The story everyone knows starts the first time Arthur met Merlin face-to-face.
It didn’t go well.
In the space of two minutes, Arthur called Merlin four different versions of idiot and asked if he was incapable of using his truly freakish ears to listen when his superiors are talking, and Merlin became the first person in Camelot history to call the boss’s son a pompous arse to his face and still have his job ten minutes later.
Morgana kicked Arthur out of her department for the rest of the day and nearly gave Merlin a raise on the spot.
Meetings two and three didn’t go any better, and meeting four might have come to physical blows had Leon not been there to discretely smack Arthur in the back of the head at the first sign of clenched fists.
It wasn’t until meeting five that things started to change between them. It happened by chance; one day after work a few weeks after Merlin started, they both ended up in the same pub.
Arthur knew he was there. He knew Merlin knew he was there. But neither of them made any effort to approach the other, and that was just fine with him. He’d come for a drink, not to get scowled at and called an arse by some idiot who didn’t even know him. So instead, he settled for stealing surreptitious glances whenever he could and pretending that Merlin didn’t keep catching him at it.
After a while, Merlin disappeared from the seat he’d been occupying, making Arthur frown for about ten seconds, which was how long it took for him to register that Merlin had made his way over to Arthur’s booth and was now sitting flush against his side.
“Okay, so, I am really sick of getting hit on, so I’m going to pretend you’re my boyfriend for the night and if you sit there and don’t be an arse about it, I’ll cover your drinks, sound good?”
Arthur gaped for a long moment, though he’d never admit to it, then nodded. He didn’t particularly want to watch Merlin getting hit on anymore either, the reasoning behind which he didn’t investigate and blamed firmly on the liquor.
“I’d use Will usually, but he’s off on a date like a good straight bloke and I’m left to fend for myself.” Merlin rolled his eyes and downed half of his drink. “They always look so disappointed,” he said wistfully.
“I didn’t know you were into blokes,” Arthur said, because his social filter had obviously abandoned him completely.
Merlin turned to him with a lopsided grin. “Really? Morgana picked it out right off.”
“Of course she did,” Arthur snorted.
They stayed like that for a long time, pressed together all down one side, talking about everything and nothing in a way they’d probably never have managed within the walls of Camelot. The next morning, Merlin brought him coffee that rivaled Leon’s and, somehow, it turned into taking lunch together three times a week and Friday nights at the pub.
They were the only ones that never called them dates.
*****
Leon goes for nearly four hundred and fifty pounds. It isn’t surprising.
What is surprising is that he’s won by Gwaine, the head of the art department, and seems genuinely pleased by it. More than.
Arthur’s always suspected that Gwaine had something going with his own assistant, but Elena’s up next and all he does is shoot her a thumbs-up before turning back to Leon and whispering things in his ear that Arthur doesn’t want to know about if they’re making his best mate blush like that.
Gwaine does throw in a perfunctory bid at the beginning of Elena’s auction, perhaps to make sure whoever wins is worthy, but goes quiet after that and it’s actually Will, who Arthur recognizes as Merlin’s friend and former fake boyfriend on pub nights, who’s got a date three minutes and three hundred seventy pounds later.
Arthur huffs when, once again, the next person up isn’t Merlin, and Morgana shoots him a much-too-amused smirk.
The next two auctions pass in a blur, much like Gwen’s. It’s common knowledge that Nimueh, who (ironically, in Arthur’s opinion) heads the public relations department, and Cenred, the head of Accounting, have been fucking each other’s assistants for the better part of a year, so when Morgause goes to Cenred and Myror goes to Nimueh, no one’s all that surprised.
*****
What do you mean, ‘don’t you have a workplace relationships policy?’ Of course we do.
And, like all good rules, it has a foolproof loophole that we exploit to the highest of our abilities.
You see, it’s difficult to punish people for having a relationship inside the workplace if everyone in the workplace is pursuing a relationship with a coworker.
Yes, everyone. Really. (Don’t look at me like that.)
Well, except for Mr. Pendragon. He’s the only one with a publicly acknowledged relationship outside the company. His wife Catrina would probably have something to say about it if he started seeing one of his employees on the side.
To his credit, Arthur held out the longest. But once Merlin came, it was really only a matter of time before he caved.
*****
“When are you going to stop being an idiot and ask that poor boy out?”
Morgana was leaning back against the wall just inside his office door, having walked in for the millionth time without bothering to knock.
“And good morning to you as well, Morgana. Kindly stop harassing me and go back to your own department.” Arthur raised an expectant eyebrow in her direction, which she calmly returned, not moving to comply.
“There’s only so much idiocy I can take, you know. You of all people should understand that I don’t suffer fools.”
“Then I would suggest you find a fool and inflict yourself on him, somewhere far away from my office.”
She shot him a severely unimpressed look and crossed her arms. “Leon tells me you’ve been pining.”
Arthur finally turned fully away from his computer screen to face the door. “Et tu, Leon?” he called out, and he heard his backstabbing, so-not-getting-that-raise personal assistant let out a loud snort.
“It’s for your own good, Julius. If I’m going to have to listen to you talk about him all the time, it should at least be because you’re finally getting regular sex again.” He opened his mouth to protest, but Leon cut him off. “And don’t even pretend you haven’t been talking about him nonstop. I have some choice bits that I’d be more than willing to send to the entire company if you’re having trouble remembering.”
“If you don’t get in there,” Morgana interjected, looking far too amused now, “someone else is going to. I know for a fact Owain’s been taking detours by Merlin’s desk a couple times a day for the past two weeks and doing some really obvious flirting.”
Arthur’s hands didn’t clench into tense fists under his desk. They didn’t. Because that would be ridiculous. He had no reason to be possessive. Merlin wasn’t his.
Even if he should have been.
Damn it.
“Fine. Fine. What should I do, then?”
*****
They auction off the remaining three interns next, cementing Arthur’s suspicions that Morgana made sure Merlin came up last.
He’s going to make her life miserable after this.
Sophia and Vivian are easily the most attractive interns they’ve had in a long while, so the bidding wars for them go on for a while. Arthur’s pretty sure every non-attached straight bloke puts in a bid or two on at least one of them.
Drake can hardly keep up, the girls both leer suggestively at every big jump in the bids, and he can see Morgana watching with thinly veiled disgust.
Sophia goes to some annoying bloke named Valiant that Arthur thinks works for Nimueh, and he pays a truly disturbing seven hundred pounds for what will likely be a one-night stand.
Vivian sells for just slightly more to Tristan, who Arthur is pretty sure went to University with Uther. He carefully doesn’t think about it too closely.
The last intern, Mordred, looks barely legal and is creepy enough that Arthur prefers not to make eye contact unless he has to. Of course, Morgana thinks he’s wonderful.
She makes the winning bid of two hundred and fifty pounds. He kisses her cheek, and then Gwen’s.
Arthur doesn’t think about that either.
Drake calls out Merlin’s name, and Arthur’s heart rate picks up.
*****
No, it is not just like Grey’s Anatomy.
Except that it totally is.
And what have I told you about ordering those awful American telly programmes?
*****
It’d been a long time since the last time Arthur asked anyone for a date.
He wasn’t quite sure how to do it anymore.
After several false starts in person that only made him look like an idiot and had Morgana doubled over in laughter, he eventually tried asking Merlin out over the phone.
And ended up discussing Morgana’s schedule for the next Tuesday.
When he hung up, he let his head fall forward onto his desk with a dull thud.
“I’m judging you right now,” Leon said from the doorway. Arthur groaned.
“This is hopeless. I’m destined for a life of celibacy while Merlin rides off into the bloody sunset with Owain.”
Leon sighed in a long-suffering way that was really just unfair. “You could make a gesture. Something that doesn’t involve, you know…talking. At all.”
Arthur glared up at him.
“What would you suggest then, since you’re so brilliant?”
Leon shrugged. “Buy him.”
“Buy him? He’s not a prostitu—” Arthur started, then grinned broadly. “Oh.”
Leon grinned back.
*****
Up on stage, Merlin grins sheepishly out at the crowd. When he spots Arthur, the grin widens and Arthur feels himself return it, barely resisting the urge to wave.
Bloody hell, what has Merlin done to him?
Drake has barely announced that the bidding will start, once again, at thirty pounds, and several voices start piping in. Will’s first, shouting out a “one hundred” and smirking over at Arthur; Morgana shouts “two hundred”; Arthur sees Leon whisper something frantically to Gwaine, who then shouts “three fifty!”
Arthur hates all of them.
“Nine hundred!” he shouts, and Merlin turns wide, bemused eyes on him. Arthur can only grin at him again as Drake says “going once, twice” and by the time he shouts “Sold!” Arthur has an armful of Merlin, who has jumped off the stage and thrown long arms around him.
He can hear a few distinct voices laughing at them, but he can’t bring himself to care in the least as he wraps his arms around Merlin and hears his prize whisper “It’s about bloody time” in his ear.
When Merlin’s lips meet his, he can’t help but wholeheartedly agree.
*****
And that’s all of it. The story of Camelot, Inc. via Merlin and Arthur.
“Wait,” Lance said. “That’s it? What about now? Are they still together?”
“Going on three years now,” Gwen said, refilling her tea cup. “They’re not even on-and-off, like most of the couples there. It’s kind-of ridiculous how perfect they are together. They’ve never fought for more than a few hours. Morgana says it’s nauseating.”
“Also, how do you even know all of this? You work directly for Uther Pendragon, there’s no way you could have been there to witness everything.”
She smirked. “Morgana may or may not have Arthur’s office bugged. Blackmail purposes, you see.”
“Right,” Lance snorted. “Also, I know you’ve told me that everyone believes you and Morgana have been together since University, but how do you guys explain her buying someone else at the auction every year?”
“Our annual threesome.”
Lance made a bit of a choking sound, like he couldn’t decide whether to laugh or be affronted that people thought this stuff about his wife, then shook his head.
“You’re right, I wanted to know. I should know better by now.”
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Hahahahahaha!
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Morgana was perfectly, snarky and devious - I can totally believe that she has Arthur's office bugged. And you gave me some Leon/Gwaine too ♥ I adore those two together.
I love how you had Arthur all emotially retarded and completely unable to ask out Merlin in the normal way. Oh, and this:
by the time he shouts “Sold!” Arthur has an armful of Merlin
SO MUCH LOVE FOR THAT LINE ♥
And that ending I didn't see coming - you totally had me convinced that Gwen was hooked up in some seedy threeway with Morgana and Mordred ;D
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Great job! *adds to favorites* :D
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"Et tu, Leon?!"
"It's for your own good, Julius."
For the win!