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[airbath]

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[bespokes]

[ ... Shit. He hasn't quite gotten the hang of this new device. Touch screens. They were so easy to fumble.

Time to make the best of it. ]

Really, I'm nearly tempted to reach out for it.

[speccy]

[Harry can likely imagine the look on Merlin's face by now, and he'd be dead on. Oh, he's not angry. All his microexpressions indicate amusement and possibly an impatience to get where they were going.]

Before you try: Just who exactly was that intended for?

[bespokes]

[ At least he wasn't getting a clipboard to the head. ]

Percival.

[speccy]

[Merlin does have the higher ground . . .

But there are rules and they are gentlemen.]

Look up, Galahad.

[Merlin is, for all intents and purposes, smiling over his shoulder; what a smile is for Merlin, anyway, which most people would think was a blank stare--but Galahad isn't most people.]

[bespokes]

[ Oh.

Now that was a surprising turn. ]

That's assuming I've taken my eyes off of you.

[speccy]

[Dear God Harry, he's so done with you right now.]

If you were that skilled with a touch screen, we wouldn't be having this conversation.

[And with that he climbs the rest of the stairs because there are better places to converse about one's backside.]

I'll need to have a chat with Percival.

[bespokes]

It is rather new technology.

[ To be fair! He is going to pretend it was on purpose until the day he dies. ]

How else was I going to drop the news?

[ Good luck Percival. He's so terribly sorry. ]

[speccy]

[Merlin's wrath is swift and precise, with just a small but potent dose of Scottish schadenfreude. He doesn't plan to make a Thing out of it though. If anything, Merlin is curious.

They get to wherever they're going, perhaps a quiet room full of books for scheduled downtime; a difficult task for workaholics.]

That's a good question. [Implying he's waiting for the answer.] I guess it depends on the news, doesn't it Harry?

Come on. Out with it.

[bespokes]

[ ... Is he serious? Harry knits his brows now that they are atop the staircase. ]

I thought that was fairly obvious.

[ And now for a more relaxed stance. ]

You have a nice arse. Decent legs.

[speccy]

[Without missing a beat:]

That's not news. I don't need you to tell me that. [And now for the pause as he crosses his arms over his chest and gives himself a good look over.]

Only decent? They're a 7 out of 10 at least.

[bespokes]

[ Feisty. Is his own smug face showing yet? ]

I'd say at least an 8.

[ He's blatantly checking him out now. ]

[speccy]

I'm glad we could agree on that. [He pauses at the door. If he was the type to blush, he would.] After you.

[Just wait, Harry. Merlin has a proper response up his sleeve.]

[bespokes]

[ A half a bow as a thank you and in he goes to their destination. Was this all it was going to lead to, Merlin?

He'll have to try harder. ]

1/2

[speccy]

If you'll excuse me for one moment. [He taps at his clipboard, as if expecting privacy, but--]

2/2

[speccy]

[He folds his hands and holds his clipboard at his back.]

Nine out of ten. You'd be a solid 10 if it weren't for the hair.

[bespokes]

[ Oh no you didn't. ]

My hair is very well styled.

[ And now he smiles. ]

Thank you for such a high score Merlin.

[ It meant a lot that The Test Giver was giving him such high numbers. ]

[speccy]

My apologies Galahad, I'll rephrase it more clearly: If you had no hair, you'd be a solid ten.

[bespokes]

Wanting someone like yourself? Bit conceited.

[ Here is a far less subtle look-over. His score should have been higher. Or was that the sexual tension talking? ]

Are you free tonight?

[speccy]

I enjoy a very particular sense of style, and it just so happens Galahad, I am. If you're asking me on a date, the answer is yes.

[bespokes]

[ Any hopes of hiding his smile are well out the window. ]

Tonight. 8 o'clock. Somewhere casual?

[speccy]

[Whenever Harry smiles, Merlin has to curl his toes in his polished shoes.]

I'll let you decide. [Merlin is undoubtedly smiling too.

And he forgot why they came up here in the first place.

Oh, right. A scheduled break.]

I trust you'll choose somewhere that's fairly good. [Because he doesn't know if he ought to ask about Harry's intentions, and the location Harry chooses might shed some light on that. Spy training doesn't cover "how to date your colleague when you probably shouldn't."]

[bespokes]

I hope it will be up to your very specific taste.

[ Harry ultimately settles for his place. Quiet, comfortable, and with an excellent meal cooked by yours truly. Any other person would have to go through the standard dates out in public then worked in to his place. Merlin was different. Merlin had seen him through far more difficulties than any significant other could.

He hurries about to make sure he's not in his apron by the time Merlin arrives. He may be a good friend, so some casual air is expected, but not that much. By a long shot. ]

[speccy]

[He arrives at 7:59PM, loiters around for two minutes exactly, and then at 8:01 he rings the bell. He's in a dark jumper in his usual shirt and necktie. It's as close as Merlin usually gets to t-shirts and jeans.

The significance of being invited to Harry's on the first night is far from lost on him. Merlin feels a bit naked without his clipboard but feels otherwise secure--indeed, his decision to bring a bottle of aged wine seems more wise every time he silently admires it.

One thing about being mostly bald and with the rest shaved is that he doesn't have to worry if his hair looks good or not.]

[bespokes]

[ Punctual as ever. Would it kill him to be fashionably late for once in his life?

Harry is at least out of his apron and back into his jacket to greet him at the door. ]

Merlin. [ He notes the bottle of wine. ] You didn't have to.

[speccy]

[8:01 is fashionably late.

Merlin admires Harry and he tilts his head up ever so slightly when he picks up the aroma of food from within the house.] Good evening, Harry. Wouldn't be a proper guest if I didn't. A well-cooked dinner ought to be paired with good wine.