Archive of Our Own

Gwaine could talk himself out of any situation.

That time in Calicut? His mouth saved him by an inch. Shanghai? Persuaded the entire business conglomerate that he was worth listening to in less than five minutes. Reykjavik? He never charmed so many people at a time in his entire life. England? Director Gaius wouldn't even let him have a word in edgewise.

"Director, I must insist-" Gwaine was in the middle of saying, using his best diplomatic voice that he could, when Gaius cut him off for the third time.

"Gwaine I don't want to hear it anymore. I know what this means to you, but I can't clear you for duty. You'll have to sit this one out."

Gwaine changed his tactics. "That's unfair! This is discrimination! I won't stand for this utter insult to-"

"For God's sake, Gwaine!" Gaius cut him off again. "You're in a wheelchair!"

Gwaine looked down at himself where both his casted legs were propped up in the mobile sitting device.

"That doesn't matter!" Gwaine insisted. "Kara has already signed up!"

"Gwaine," Gaius said as he raised a brow high and looked far beyond annoyed. "Kara has been walking on her prosthetic leg for more than three years now. She was trained with it and therefore, fully able to participate. You, on the other hand, are not."

"But!" Gwaine whined.

"Both your legs are broken. This is no one’s fault but your own. You jumped out that window and by God, you got your dramatic exit, but the consequences are yours. I'm sorry Gwaine. You cannot participate and that is my final say."

Gwaine pouted, crossing his arms over his chest. He tried to think of a better persuasion tactic but right now, for all the situations his mouth had saved him from, all it could do was pout.

Gaius sighed, looking over at Gwaine with a lighter expression. Gwaine looked up hopefully. He made a note that looking pathetic might persuade Gaius. (Note to self: Ask Merlin about his puppy eyes).

"You cannot participate...But...and God help me I'm going to regret this. I'll give you full permission to be the commentator for the Annual Spy Games.”

~~~

"The annual what?" Mordred asked.

“What’s the running name for it this year, lads?” Gwaine asked the group.

Percival snapped his fingers. “The How James Bond Are You? Competition”

“The Games from U.N.C.L.E.” Elyan offered. “Or maybe, Mission Impossible: Hunger Games Edition”

Elena bounced, eager to join in. “The Get Smart or Lose Your Job Trials!”

“I think I’m more confused.” Mordred said.

The team was sitting around Merlin and Arthur’s office. They shared an office, which in hindsight really wasn’t a surprise. The two desks were conjoined by a middle divider which was filled with paperwork and files that Mordred was fairly certain he wasn’t supposed to know about, let alone see.

The team which was always rather big, somehow managed to fit in the office. Merlin was sitting on Arthur’s desk, while Arthur sat in his chair and leaned against his partner’s leg. Elyan, Elena, and Percival were all sitting along Merlin’s desk, looking like a strange depiction of the three musketeers. Gwaine, who had rolled himself into the room at lightening speeds, was sitting by the middle divider. Mordred also sat by the divider in Merlin’s office chair because he had refused to sit on the divider where there were three opened files that read “Confidential.”

Merlin smiled apologetically at Mordred, who was certain he looked far beyond confused. “Every year the British Spy Agency puts on a tournament to showcase their best and brightest.”

“It’s just for fun” Arthur said, “It’s one of the few times a year we get to use our skills without having to worry about life or death.”

“A game...for spies?” Mordred said as his brows pulled together. “What’s the objective?”

“Changes every year.” Elyan said. “Last year it was pin-the-tail-on-the-donkey.” As if that wasn’t a strange thing to say.

Merlin leaned close to Mordred and whispered. “Arthur was the donkey.”

“What?” Arthur asked.

“Nothing, love” Merlin said with false innocence in his eyes. Arthur narrowed his eyes.

“Do you know what the game will be this year?” Mordred asked.

Everyone looked to Gwaine. He held up his hands “I am sworn to secrecy! I can’t tell a soul.” He gestured to his mouth, as if locking it with a key.

Merlin nodded his head knowingly. “They didn’t tell him.” Everyone nodded in agreement.

“Oi!” Gwaine said. "I'll have you know, I am informed of many important things!"

"God help us all."

Mordred turned around to find three new arrivals in the doorway. The woman who had spoken, was pale and dark haired, with bright red lipstick. She smiled and Mordred wasn't sure if he should be afraid or not. Behind her was a woman with short curly hair, and a handsome man with a faint beard.

"Morgana!" Merlin said, jumping up from his seat to greet the woman. "Did you just arrive?"

She hugged him and kissed his cheek. They looked very similar and Mordred wondered if they were related in some way.

"I just flew in from France with these lovelies in stow." She said, gesturing to the couple behind her.

Merlin greeted them with hugs and well wishes. The woman, Morgana as Merlin had called her, looked to Arthur who was watching the exchange with a smile.

"No hello to your favorite sibling, brother dear?" She asked with open arms.

Arthur laughed, "As my only sibling, I'm not sure that's an exalted position." Arthur stood and hugged her. Mordred was having trouble believing Arthur and Morgana were related at all, but if it was another inside joke, no one had alluded to it.

As Merlin talked at rapid speeds to the couple, Morgana took Arthur’s chair with a grin that only siblings would know, and Arthur rolled his eyes and leaned against his desk. "Welcome back to the UK." Arthur said. "What office are you working in now?"

"Oh you know, my HQ is in Paris but I travel." She said, with a wave of her hand. "But I couldn't miss the Spy Games. Of which I couldn't help but here that Gwaine is somehow leading?" She asked.

Arthur nodded down where Gwaine was sitting in his wheelchair, both legs lifted. "His last mission did not end as smoothly as planned. Gaius let him be the commentator so that he would stop pouting."

"Ah" Morgana said with understanding.

Everyone else soon joined in greeting the new arrivals, and Gwaine started loudly telling Morgana that he was gifted the position instead of demoted to commentator. Everyone greeted the new arrivals like old friends, and soon, the office was as loud as if it was a party. Mordred felt a little left out, but he tried his best to keep up.

"Oh, you must be new!" said the curly haired woman to Mordred. She smiled and held out her hand. "I'm Gwen. This is my husband, Lance."

Mordred shook both their hands. "Are you both agents?"

"Oh, no. Well, yes. We're retired, actually." Gwen said. "We work some missions when the agency is desperate, but otherwise we're quite boring."

"Don't believe that for a minute." Morgana said with a conspiring look to Mordred before going back to her conversation with Merlin.

"Gaius called us in for the Spy Games." Lance explained. "He likes to have a mix of new, active, and inactive agents so that everyone is on their toes. It makes for a lot of fun."

"I've only just heard of it." Mordred confessed.

Gwen gave him a genuine smile, and patted his hand. "You'll have a great time. My advice? Don't rule anything out."

Mordred was starting to believe that that was good advice in general for the life of a spy.

~~~

Morgana liked Emrys.

She remembered when she had first heard of him. Emrys had been the odd agent out. He was a new agents and a wild card, dug up from only God knows where. That was, until Gaius somehow had convinced her brother to take Emrys onto his team.

Working in France in the overseas HQ, Morgana had heard that Emrys had become a permanent member of Arthur’s team but she had yet to meet him. The last time she had spoken with Arthur, he had only been paired with Emrys on a few missions. When she returned home for the holidays, only six months later, she was surprised to see that Arthur and Emrys had become friends, even if Arthur wasn't aware of it just yet.

Emrys had introduced himself as 'Merlin' with a broad smile and an outstretched hand. He had made jokes about Arthur, wanted to know about their childhood, and please tell him all the weird things that Arthur did as a child. To her surprise, Arthur had only half-protested and she had caught him looking at Merlin with a fond smile.

Emrys was a spitfire. He teased Arthur relentlessly, mocking Arthur's rigid ways and coaxing her socially-inept brother out of his shell. She had taken to Emrys, liking his honesty and careless attitude. It was refreshing after working with spies her whole career. Merlin was a sweetheart and she liked that he made Arthur more like himself, less tense and rule-oriented. Arthur's entire team was already in love with Emrys. It had only been a matter of time before Arthur figured out he too was in love with him.

Only a few months later she got a call from Arthur, an unknown number, undisclosed location, and a secure line. She had thought something was wrong and she was going to have to fly across the world to save his ass from some trouble he had gotten himself into, but Arthur had just answered the phone with a simple hello.

"Morgana..." He had said after a long pause. "What do I do if I've broken a rule?"

"Are we talking about breaking the law,"  She had asked cautiously. "As in running a red light, or as in killing a politician?"

"No..." Arthur had said. "One of Dad's rules."

She had hated those words as soon as Arthur said them and she wished Arthur hadn't cared so much about Uther's strict rules. One of the reasons she had decided to work away from home was because she and Uther had rarely seen eye to eye. She had had the luxury of moving away. Arthur on the other hand, had always been under Uther's iron fist.

"Which rule is that?" Uther had any number of rules, that could range from  professional to familial.

Arthur did not speak but she had heard him breathing deeply. She had wanted to comfort him, but through the phone she didn't know how.

"I've become emotionally attached." Arthur had said, seeming to pick his words carefully.

"Oh Arthur." He hadn't needed to tell her who he had fallen for.

"This is everything Dad's told me not to do. Keep focused. Finish the mission. Nothing is personal." Arthur had sounded a mix of frustrated and desperate.

Morgana had told him the truth, plain and simple. "Forget the damn rules."

Arthur had tried to protest but she had continued. "Throw that damned rule book out the window. You are your own man. Make your own rules."

She hadn't told him that Merlin was everything Arthur needed and letting him go would be a mistake. Arthur had already known that, and if he didn't, he would soon figure it out.

Then when she came back to visit her brother, only a few weeks later, Merlin had been in Arthur's flat, an easy grin on his lips as he lounged in one of Arthur's old shirts.

Later on she had heard the stories of their so called wedding, and then the rumors of their honeymoon. No one ever seemed to know where they had gone for those two weeks, and Morgana was just as clueless. Arthur hadn't given her an inch and Merlin seemed to give her a different city every time she asked for the real answer.

Despite Uther's iron fist, Arthur had somehow managed to pull away from those damned rules. Merlin was evidence of that with just his presence. Morgana was happy for them. She had found her happiness by working away from home and making her own way in the world. In contrast Arthur had found happiness at home, making his own rules.

~~~

The speakers crackled and Gwaine’s voice boomed: "Ladies, gentleman and everyone in between, I present to you this year’s Annual Spy Games!"

Gwaine’s voice echoed over loudly as it filled the warehouse floor. The spies on the ground floor cheered, and through the feedback of Gwaine’s speakers, applause was heard.

Everyone had arrived at the practice warehouse without a clue as to what was inside. It was usually used as the training grounds, easily converted into any rural or urban environment a spy might encounter. But when they had walked in, to everyone’s surprise, it was a plain concrete floor with only an elevated observation room where Gwaine and others would be watching behind tinted glass. The only thing to indicate something more interesting might be at play, was the low ceiling which was anything but, since it still stood two stories high.  But since the warehouse was at least ten stories, the rest of the warehouse was still a mystery, hidden above the ceiling.

"To our exalted guests: Welcome!" Gwaine said in dramatic tone to the people in the observation room. “To our agents on the warehouse floor, the best of luck to you.”

"The warehouse is now your arena. This year's game: Capture the Flag."

"The rules, my dear friends, are fairly simple. Each team has a flag and it's the job of the other team to capture it, and return it to their home base.” On the warehouse floor there were two large squares of color, red and blue, which must have been the home bases to which Gwaine referred.

“Of course, our rules are going to be a bit more...interesting.” Gwaine said with a grin in his tone. “Here in this lovely warehouse the agency has created multiple levels of obstacles for you. There will be three parts to this game. Act One: Scout out the arena. Act Two: Hide the flag. Act Three: Capture the Flag. The rest, my dear comrades, will be up to you.”

"Now I don't want to see any cheating, so let's lay out the ground rules. When hiding the flag, it may not be on anyone's person. No moving it around; the flag must stay in its hiding position the entire time. No one is allowed to, as we say in the kiddie world "babysit" the flag. That means no guarding."

"Both teams will not be aware what the other team's flag looks like. All you will know is that it is a piece of fabric. It cannot be altered in anyway, and as stated before, not worn."

"Here are the teams, when your name is called, make your way to the appropriate side of the warehouse floor.

“On the far side of the warehouse where there is blue flooring we will be having the first team! Lance, code name: Gryphon. Mordred, code name: Bane. Morgana, code name: Hex. Percival, code name: Mountain. Mithian, code name: Hunter."

“On the other side, where the flooring is red, we have: Leon, code name: Knight. Elyan, code name: Hound. Gwen, code name: Blacksmith. Kara, code name: Fox. Elena, code name: Goldie Locks.

“Now for the team leaders!” Gwaine said, as if he was an announcer in a boxing ring. "On the red side we have the shining golden boy of Britain's finest academy, the spy to beat out Bond himself, the monarch above the rest: Kiiiiiing! On the blue side we have the mysterious man in black, the assassin without a name, the charmer of all genders: Emmmmrys!"

There was applause and cheers, but there was a hushed note to both the announcements.

"That's right folks, if you haven't figured it out yet, let me make it clear: Emrys and King will not be assigned to the same team this year. Before you get your spy-panties in a twist, it was unanimously agreed that any team working against Emrys and King had no real chance.”

“Sorry, boys. See this as a compliment.”

"Now, team up! You have ten minutes to coordinate before we start. Time is ticking!"

~~~

"The curtains pull back, my dear friends and I present to you, Act One." Gwaine said over the speakers.

Ten minutes had passed since the Spy Games had started and Mordred had never seen Emrys work without King. It was weird. For some reason, Emrys didn't seem to mind too much that he wasn't working with King. Mordred wondered if he should wait for the other shoe to drop.

Gwaine spoke, "Teams, please present your scouts."

Mordred looked to Emrys who gave him an encouraging nod. Mordred stepped forward and Gwaine's voice boomed out "Bane is scouting for Team Emrys. And it looks like Hound will be King's scout. Perfect. Gentlemen, please take your stations at the center of the floor."

Nervously, Mordred stepped forward, as did Elyan.

"Before we begin," Gwaine said. "I'd like to remind you that there will be neutral parties in this arena. When I say neutral, I mean, they are willing to sabotage either side. So watch out for them.”

"That being said, we can't let both of you start at the same point, so one of you will be getting a luxurious ten minute head-start. To decide who gets this head start, rock-paper-scissors was turned down. Instead, we've prepared something a bit more fun."

On that note, something shifted beneath the warehouse floor where Mordred and Elyan stood. A platform rose out to reveal two cars.

"Rock-paper-scissors is permitted on deciding which car you'll be racing." Gwaine said and paused as the two scouts looked at each other. Elyan shrugged and held up his hands. Mordred lost (scissors beats paper) and Elyan choose the gray Aston Martin, so Mordred was stuck with the red Sunbeam Tiger.

When Emrys had chosen Mordred to be the scout, he had readily agreed because 1) He wasn’t about to tell Emrys, his idol, that he wasn’t up for the task, and 2) Because he was good at scouting out new territories, so he thought he might give it a shot. What he hadn’t anticipated was a race, but luckily, Mordred was also a good getaway-driver, as Emrys was very aware of.

Mordred buckled his seatbelt (‘Safety first, lads!’ Gwaine said, somehow knowing what Mordred and Elyan were doing even in the cars). The car looked fairly simple, nothing out of place, except for maybe a few buttons that Mordred decided he would only press if he absolutely needed to. (Who put a big blue button in the middle of the dash? And Mordred did not want to know what that red button did.)

He checked in the glove compartment for anything and found a gun. He looked at it for a moment before deciding to slip it into the small of his back where he could use it later. He remembered Gwen’s advice, and with anything possible, knew he needed to be resourceful.

In the car, Mordred could hear Gwaine’s voice, and he wondered if the Spy Games had put video and audio in all parts of the arena. “Gents, This race will be fairly simple. Ten laps around the warehouse-” As he spoke, bright blue lights rose from the warehouse floor, in the shape of an oval track. “Speaking to the teams, I suggest you take a step back. Just because there’s a road doesn’t mean the cars will stay on it.”

Mordred put his car in gear, feeling the engine come alive beneath him. Elyan did the same, revving his engine with a grin when Mordred looked over at him. Mordred rolled his eyes and focused on the road.

“Remember, all’s fair.” Gwaine said, “On your mark. Get set. Race!”

Mordred took off, not bothering to watch Elyan. He knew that those ten minutes meant picking up all pieces of intel that his team needed, and Mordred was eager to prove himself.

On his fifth lap, he thought he had it home clear. Elyan was on his tail, and that could mean anything halfway through the race, but he was feeling good about it. Then something popped up in the track a hundred meters ahead of them. Mordred slammed on the breaks, veering his car to the right and off the tracks. Elyan, behind him, changed gears and went to the left, moving around what appeared to be a giant brick wall. Mordred slammed his foot on the gas pedal.

The next lap, side by side, Mordred was starting to wonder what those buttons did.

Elyan, must have gotten curious too because suddenly the Aston Martin seemed to have added Ben Hur type adjustments. His hubcaps slid back to reveal spikes that were inching closer and closer to Mordred’s tires. As the other scout drove forward, the razor sharp rims spun at blinding speeds, ready to tear at Mordred’s Sunbeam. Elyan drove closer to Mordred.

“Look here folks, Hound has decided to make things interesting!” Gwaine said over the speakers.

Trying to avoid the spikes, Mordred sped up. He felt as the edge of his car nudged Elyan’s front wheel, tearing the back of his bumper, but he pulled away. As long as he was in front, he was safe from the spikes. Elyan tried to catch up, but couldn’t make the last inch.

Mordred decided he could play that game too. He slammed his hand on the red button as he rounded the track for the seventh time. Looking in his back mirrors, Mordred could see something release from the back of his car and scatter around the track.

“Oh!” Gwaine said, “Bane is playing it dirty as well. Elyan better watch those nails.”

Mordred only had two more laps, and if those nails did their job, then he would be home free.

And yet.

Elyan was right on his tail. Mordred didn’t know how he did it, but he didn’t have much time to question it. Both scouts were neck-in-neck.

One more lap.

Mordred pushed his car to its limits, but he needed one more push.

“Oh, for the love of-” Mordred cursed, as he slammed his fist on the blue button, hoping it was something useful.

Mordred’s car shot forward, his head slammed against the headrest, and he had to grip tight in order to hold onto the steering wheel. Distantly, he registered that flames were coming out of the back of his car. Gwaine was making some kind of comment, but Mordred couldn’t hear him.

As he flew past the finish line, the flames stopped and his car slowed, and he could hear the cheers of his team. He took a deep breath, his heart racing out of his chest, and popped his head out of the car window with a wide smile.

“Congratulations to Bane! You have been awarded a ten minute head start.” Gwaine said as Mordred stepped out of the car. Then, in front of him, a long rope appeared from the warehouse ceiling. “Hold on tight. You’re going up.”

Mordred looked at the rope dubiously but decided he didn’t have much of a choice. He held on tight and the rope ascended as his team cheered him on.

“Good luck” Mordred heard Gwaine say, his voice echoing in the warehouse below.

~~~

The rope pulled him up into a tiny room. When he stepped off the rope, the square of light from the warehouse shut and sealed off the light and sound from below. The room was only tall enough for Mordred to stand, but just barely. Percival would have had to fold in half just to move around. There didn’t seem to be any exits.

Mordred looked around, his eyes adjusting to the dim light. The only other thing in the room was a ventilation grate. It was just the right size for crawling through. Mordred sighed.

He knelt down, and the cover was easily removed.

It was dark as pitch in the vent, but as soon as he knelt down, the duct creaking beneath him, he saw some lights ahead of him flicker on. He crawled forward and came to a crossroads. He turned to go left.

“Not that way, mate.” Mordred heard Gwaine, his speakers much softer in the silent maze of ducts, unlike his booming voice in the warehouse floor.

“Not helping, Rogue.” Mordred gritted through his teeth.

“Just giving you a hand.” Gwaine said, with what Mordred was sure was a cocky smirk.

Mordred decided to go right, even if Gwaine wasn't telling the truth he would have to pick a side either way.

He kept track of every turn he made, mapping out the ducts in his head. It wasn’t made in any kind of order that Mordred could tell, and he soon realized what he was in. A labyrinth.

At every other turn he hit a dead end. Sometimes it would be too dark to see the end, until he was right in front of it, and he had to back up a couple meters to get back on track. On the third dead end in a row, there was a neon sign that read ‘Wrong Way.’

Mordred sighed  “For fuck’s sake. Now it’s just mocking me.”

“Watch your language, kiddo.” Gwaine said.

Mordred glared at the air, since he couldn’t see Gwaine, and backed up, feeling ridiculous on his hands and knees.

When the vents started to only give him the option of right turns, over and over again, Mordred was starting to feel like whoever had made this maze was a sadist. On the tenth right turn there was a blinking neon arrow that pointed left. Mordred stared at it, then at the vent wall to the left. He tapped at it, making the metal echo. He pushed at it, and it gave way. He gave a shout of victory.

“Looks like there’s a few more traps than there appears!” Gwaine said, sounding more like he was talking to his audience than to Mordred.

Occasionally tapping on the walls, listening for a different type of echo, Mordred crawled his way through the maze of ducts.

He began to feel the ache in his hands and knees. At the end of the vents there was a light. Hoping that he wasn’t stepping into the light, so to speak, Mordred crawled forward and onto the next level.

~~~

Elyan crawled through the maze, not at all surprised to see the mocking neon signs. He wondered if that was Gwaine’s addition or if The Dragon had gotten more creative in his traps. Occasionally he heard the faint noises of another person crawling in the vents and it gave Elyan hope to know that Mordred was still in the ventilation duct labyrinth. Hopefully those ten minutes wouldn’t mean too much.

Luckily, Elyan was surprisingly good at crawling through air ducts. After so many years as a high class thief, he knew how to shimmy through these tiny things easily. Fortunately, stealth was right up his alley, which was exactly why Arthur had assigned him this task. Unfortunately, Bane also seemed to know what he was doing.

When Elyan made it out of the ducts, he stepped right into a club.

The room was dark, but the glitter of lights and the beat of music filled Elyan instantly. Elyan looked around, doing what he was there to do: scout out the arena. In the center of the room there was a dance floor, with a mass of people moving along to the beat. To his right there was a large bar, complete with alcohol and a bartender stirring up a martini. To his left was a couple casino tables.

The lengths to which the Agency took to make these games was rather impressive.

He scoped out the place, moving with the people and catching onto the taste of the scene. No one acknowledged him, though eyes would trail over him. It was exactly as if he had stepped into any dance club in London.

Elyan decided to test it, and order a dry martini.

“Here you are, sir” The bartender said, handing him his drink. The bartender pulled what appeared to be a receipt from the cash register slid it across the counter. Elyan picked up and smiled when he read the perfectly typed out: “You are supposed to be scouting  -Gwaine”

Elyan tipped back the drink, holding up the receipt in his hand with a look upwards, where he was sure Gwaine would see him on one of the cameras.

As he roamed the crowd, Elyan didn’t see Mordred, and he assumed that the other scout had made quick work of the club scene and made it to the next level. Elyan was going to have to catch up with him.

Looking to the gambling tables and then to the bar, Elyan wondered how he was supposed to make it to the next level. There didn’t seem to be any obvious exits, as one would find in a normal establishment. But Elyan knew it wouldn’t be that easy. Then it hit Elyan. How else did you get out of club, even if you didn’t want to?

He shrugged to himself and found the nearest bloke who looked like he could take a  punch. He shoved him. “Watch where the fuck you’re going mate!” Elyan shouted.

As expected, the man shoved back, “Fuck off wanker!”

The fight broke out, and soon enough, a bouncer came along “Oi! Dickheads! Knock it off!” The man shouted, grabbing at  Elyan’s shirt. He pulled Elyan through the crowd until they were at the back wall. He pressed a panel of the wall, which Elyan quickly committed to memory. Then the bouncer threw him through the door and shouted. “Keep outta here-

~~~

-and stay out!”

Mordred fell to the floor as the door shut behind him. He hadn’t meant to get kicked out, but apparently losing at the poker table was not the way to unlock the next level. Unless...Mordred looked up to see another small room, this time with a staircase and a single door at the top.

He stood up and brushed himself off. Walking up the stairs, he hesitantly opened the door, only to have it slam open with a harsh wind. In front of Mordred was a desert. Not just an empty room. Oh no. It was an honest to god, Sahara-esque, sand dunes and swirling winds desert.

Mordred sighed to himself, pulling at his shirt so that it covered his nose and mouth, and stepped through the door, as it closed behind him.

The desert was as wide as the warehouse, and at least three stories high. The ceiling was easy to see above him, with a walkway above, and steal walls on all four sides. Through the sand and wind, Mordred could see what appeared to be a large sign that read ‘Exit.’

It couldn’t be that easy. Could it?

Mordred started walking, not going to look a gift horse in the mouth. Of course, it was never that easy.

The rafting above him started to move, making a mechanical clicking noise. He looked up, and to his horror, he saw Director Kilgharrah standing on a mobile part of the rafting. He had something in his hand, and Mordred was trying to remember Gwaine’s warning about neutral parties.

That’s when Mordred realized the thing in The Dragon’s hand was a flamethrower. The rafting moved right above Mordred, and the Director sent out a burst of flames which came far too close for Mordred’s liking.

He started to run, his thighs burning as his feet slipped through the sand. Distantly he heard The Dragon laughing, and he felt the heat of flames at his back as the rafting moved forward with Mordred’s pace.

“I did not sign up for this!” Mordred shouted, Kilgharrah right behind him and the exit sign looming ahead of him.

His heart raced, his thighs burned, and his eyes watered as the wind flung sand in his eyes. Kilgharrah was in pursuit, the flamethrower hot on his heels.

Only a few more meters...

~~~

Elyan coughed as the door shut behind him and traces of sand swirled around him. The door shut behind him and Kilgharrah’s flames licked at the closing steel door.

“I... was not expecting that” Elyan panted, hands on his knees.

When he looked up he was surprised to see an ordinary office building. There were offices running along the sides of the floor with a grouping of cubicles in the middle. The lights were off and it was fairly dark with only the light from the windows casting moonlight onto the floor. Except, it was the middle of the day. Elyan looked through the window to see the fake city skyline perfectly situated with blue lighting to make it look like nighttime.

Silently, Elyan walked through the offices, taking note of the errily simple surroundings.

~~~

Mordred exited the offices through the stairwell. As he walked up the stairs he couldn’t help but think the office had been too normal. There was something off about the simple scene that had Mordred’s skin tingling. Or maybe that was just the sand in his clothes.

On the landing of the staircase there was a door that said “Final Level.” Mordred took a deep breath and opened it up. Mordred yelped.

“Oh” He said, holding his hand to his racing heart as he looked at himself in the mirror. The door opened up onto an elevator with a mirrored wall. Mordred stepped inside. There weren’t any buttons.

With the door still open, Mordred heard someone running up the stairwell and he knew Elyan was right behind him. Quickly, he tried to find any hidden compartments or secret buttons.

“Hey there” Elyan said with a smile, looking like he was taking all the game’s oddness in stride. He stepped inside the elevator and soon found out what Mordred had: no buttons.

“Well… I guess we’ll have to do this the old fashioned way.” Elyan said. Mordred watched as Elyan knelt on the elevator floor, finding a latch and pulling it open. Beneath the elevator, was a shaft at least ten stories high. The bottom was pitch black and Mordred hoped there was another door down there that lead to the warehouse floor.

~~~

The observation room’s front wall was panelled with glass, showing the warehouse floor where the teams were waiting for their scouts to return. On the other side of the room, there were at least twenty widescreen televisions each showing different parts of the arena. Gwaine held a microphone in his hand as he sat in the center of the room in a bright purple swivel chair.

Around him were couches and chairs where several former agents, directors, and very important people milled about the room. The Annual Spy Games was a party, and everyone was enjoying drinks and food, while watching their best agents have a good time and doing what they do best.

On one of the screens, Gwaine watched as Mordred and Elyan shimmed down the elevator shaft.

“Hold on tight, Hound.” Gwaine said with a grin into his microphone.

“I will end you, Rogue.” Elyan said, his voice echoing in the elevator shaft.

“Did I mention this was timed? Two more minutes, scouts.”

The cursing from both the scouts echoed throughout the elevator shaft.

~~~

Leon was a very put together spy. He had his objectives all laid out in front of him on every mission. The Spy Games weren’t any different and as soon as Gwaine announced the game, Leon knew his objectives. Leon decided that his second objective would be to capture the flag. His first objective? To ensure Arthur didn't go out of his mind.

Now that Leon thought about it, keeping Arthur sane was his job normally. It might have been Merlin's job on occasion, but Emrys was usually the cause of insanity, as it was now. Although to be fair, it wasn't Merlin's fault that he had been assigned to the opposite team. Actually, he didn't seem that put out about opposing his partner. Actually, neither did Arthur. Instead of focusing on the fact that Merlin was his opponent, he seemed more keen to beat him.

"No, we can't use that plan." Arthur said for the fifth time.  "Emrys knows about that one."

"King, I really hate to point this out," said Elena, "But as your partner, Emrys knows all your plans."

"I know!" Arthur said, running a hand over his eyes. They looked down at the rough map Elyan made after his trip in the arena. "Look, we can't lose, Em will never let me live it down."

Gwen raised her hand as if to ask a question, "Am I the only one surprised that you want to crush Emrys into the ground?"

Elyan whispered, “This is just their kind of foreplay.”

Arthur raised a brow, but did not deny it. Of course he didn’t, Leon sighed.

“If you don’t mind, Elyan. I’d like to get started, so any ideas?” Arthur pointed down at the map, scanning it. "We're going to win this, and God help me, we're going to use a plan that's out of the box. So any suggestion that isn't insanely obvious would be greatly appreciated."

Leon heard a cough from his right side. He looked down to see Kara, an agent that was only a few years out of training.

"I have some ideas." She said.

"Perfect." Arthur grinned. He was eager to win, not too occupied on the fact that Merlin was on the opposite team. Or perhaps, more focused because Emrys was on the opposite team. Leon decided that his objective would actually be to capture the flag. Huh. That was a surprise.

~~~

If you asked Lance, he would have said that Merlin seemed a little too keen to take down Arthur. But of course, no one asked Lance. Gwen would have asked but she was on the other team. Lance was a little put out, he didn’t like going against his wife, but Merlin didn’t seem at all bothered by the fact that his partner was on the opposite team.

"Should I be asking about marital strife?" Lance asked teasingly, as everyone looked over the maps Mordred had drawn of the arena.

"Arthur is an arrogant bastard when he wins." Merlin said, eyes on the map. "I'd never live this down."

"You have a strange relationship with your husband." Mithian said, not seeming to mean it as an insult. She smiled, and Lance decided it was a compliment.

"You're telling me." Mordred muttered. Lance had to hold in a laugh as Merlin raised a brow at the young agent.

Percy cleared his throat and tapped on the map. "Agents? The mission, please."

"Right you are, Mountain." Lance said with a clap to Percy's shoulder. "Emrys? Any ideas?"

"Two things. The first thing is that Bane is a good scout. He's gotten us everything we need." Lance saw Mordred preen a bit at the praise. Merlin continued. "The second is that I know King better than I know myself. We'll have that flag in no time at all."

"I'm starting to appreciate that you're on our side, Emrys." Mithian said.

Emrys grinned deviously and Lance was reminded that he was one of the best agents in the world.

"You have no idea."

~~~

“Alright everyone!” Gwaine said through the speakers. “Act Two is complete: the flags have been hidden in the arena. Now onto Act Three: you have two hours to find the other team’s flag and get it back down to your home base.”

“Synchronize your watches. Your time starts...now!”

~~~

The beat of the club was maddening. Mordred almost forgot that he was an arena and not in downtown London. As soon as they were set free into the arena, Team Emrys had taken the club level. Emrys had a plan, and as far as  Mordred could see, it was flawless.

Mordred’s job was watching out for Team King. Being a spy was a lot of diversion. Spies avoided conflict and slipped past unnoticed. Direct questions were averted and the rough action was replaced with stealth. That’s why Mordred was good at this job. Currently he was playing the role of a shadow. Merlin had specifically told him to be the look out. Watch for things. Anything.

So he laid low and kept a keen eye. On the other side of the room Lance was slipping through the secret passage to the desert level.  Near the vent where the air ducts lead to the club entrance, Percival played at being a bouncer, checking everyone who came in.

At Percival’s side was a gun, which they had taken from a hidden compartment behind the bar. There were weapons stashed all around the warehouse and Mordred hoped Team King hadn’t found them yet. Before they had started, Mordred had wondered what they were loaded with, but Emrys had answered that question easily. He took the gun from Mordred and shot it at the warehouse floor. Sticking to the concrete floor was a orange sticky nerf dart.

So the darts would act like the pellets in paintball. Get hit with one and you were dead and out of the game.

Mordred situated himself at a poker table and absent mindedly played cards while he watched the scene in front of him. Some members of Team King slipped through, but Percival always checked them out before they went anywhere. Kara, an agent about Mordred’s age had just appeared from the vent and had somehow managed to slip past Percival’s line of sight. She must had been too short and Mountain too tall.

Mordred got to his feet, and he saw Morgana on his tail. He caught Kara by the shoulder and she easily grabbed his hand. It was a silent battle, especially in a ‘public’ setting. Mordred held tightly to her shoulder and she held his wrist, the chance to start a fight at any moment.

Then Morgana appeared behind Mordred.

“Excuse me, miss.” Morgana said to Kara. Morgana looked intimidating in the club setting, in all black and her green eyes lighting up with the glittering lights. “There are no weapons allowed here.” She smirked as Kara let out a dejected sigh. She released Mordred’s wrist and Mordred let her go.

Kara pulled a gun from the small of her back. She set it on the nearest poker table and Mordred took it.

Morgana held out her hand, waiting for more.

Kara sighed again and to Mordred’s surprise, she reached down her shirt. She pulled out what seemed to be some kind of terrifying make-shift weapon made of paper clips which she must have gotten from the office floor. Then she lifted up her leg, the prosthetic clanging on the poker table, and pulled out two knives that had somehow  been attached to her prosthetic. The knives dropped to the table in front of Mordred and he couldn’t help but stare.

Morgana smiled. “Oh, I like you, Fox. Want to change sides?”

“Not a chance.” Kara said, giving Mordred a scanning look before fading off into the crowd. Mordred stared at the weapons and back at Kara.

“Keep it together, Bane.”Morgana said with a laugh. “Flirt with her after we’ve won.”

“I wasn’t-!” Mordred said. Honestly, he had just been admiring Kara’s ingenuity and resourcefulness.

“Sure.” Morgana patted his back and slinked off into the crowd.

Mordred went back to watching the crowd, the weapons now concealed on his person. Only a moment later he had been surprised to see Emrys jogging up to the poker table.

"Change of plans." Emrys said, grabbing Mordred’s arm and pulling him along. "Follow me."

~~~

The desert level in the arena reminded Gwen of a mission years ago in the Sahara.

That had been before she met Lance. Her mission had taken her through the Sahara, eventually flying from Casablanca to Granada. When she had walked into the quaint little bakery, the handsome man hadn't been just a shop owner, but then again, Gwen hadn't just been a woman on a business trip either. Love had ways of conquering  those difference though. Somehow the British spy and the Spanish spy had made things work, and now they were perfectly happy.

Just as she had years ago in the Sahara, Gwen wrapped fabric around herself until only her eyes were showing. It wasn't bulky and she moved perfectly along the edge of the desert where the sand met the warehouse walls. Finding a divot in the wall, she latched on, climbing the wall until she reached the metal runway almost two stories above the sand. She held onto the bars and flipped herself onto the walkway. Waiting for her, was The Dragon.

Beneath the fabric on her face she smiled. She raised her hand, beckoning him closer. In a quick movement he pulled out two weapons, sliding one over the grating.

She picked up the sword, thin and elegant like a scimitar. Her fencing was a little rough, but that was the point of the Spy Games wasn't it? To use all one's skills, even the ones that weren't used on a daily basis. Of course, she was a retired agent and was supposed to be out of practice in a lot of ways. Unfortunately for Kilgharrah, Gwen wasn't nearly as out of practice at being a spy as the average retiree.

She raised the sword, making sure she could still see through the fabric covering her face, and made her first move.

She knew that fighting Kilgharrah was partially for show. He was after all an older man, not to mention one of the directors of the agency. But the Spy Games had an audience to cater too, and if they wanted to see The Dragon get beaten in a sword fight, then that's what they were going to get.

Gwen used the elevated walkway to her advantage, managing to hop over the railing and confuse Kilgharrah, even if just for a moment. On his other side, the side nearest the exit, Gwen parried a blow Kilgharrah reigned down. She let him back her further down the walkway, blocking his sword with every step. Until she reached the flamethrower. She dropped the sword and grabbed the machine. She aimed it at the Dragon, who merely laughed.

"Well, done Blacksmith." Kilgharrah said, his voice proud. He sheathed his sword and bowed to her. "You've earned it."

As if he was the Sphinx that allowed her into Thebes, he walked down the walkway and climbed down until he was obscured by wind and sand, leaving Gwen to her new domain.

~~~

Thanks to Gwen, Arthur made it easily across the desert. Perhaps easily wasn't the right term, since he still had to traverse through wind and sand to get to the exit, but it was easier than The Dragon reigning down flames as he ran for his life.

When he entered the office floor it was quiet. He scanned the room carefully, watching the shadows for any movements. He jogged forward, looking through the cubicles for anyone on the opposite team. He didn't see anyone, but something was off...

His foot caught on something and he fell to the floor with an undignified "Oof!" He looked for the wire that had tripped him, but it was too late, he already could see the gas escaping from the cubicle where he had set off the trap. The gas curled around him quickly, and he had to move fast in case it was sleeping gas, or heaven forbid, laughing gas. That could have been terrible. He coughed as the gas filled his nose and he suddenly jolted as the rotten egg smell filled his nose. Covering his face with his sleeve, he got to his feet, stumbling as he ran away from the god-awful sulfur smell.

He threw himself into one of the corner offices and shut the door behind himself, heaving a sigh of relief.

A light turned on. Arthur stilled. He hadn't touched the light switch.

He looked around the large office, where a huge desk was the centerpiece against the background of a fake skyline window. Behind the desk there was a huge leather chair with its back towards Arthur.

"So good of you to join me."

Arthur suddenly realized he had been herded into the office by the stink bomb, and easily into the hands of the enemy.

The leather chair turned around slowly, the light on the desk only revealing parts of the picture in front of Arthur. Dressed in an ink black suit and his collar open low on his chest, Emrys looked like a perfect villain. His blue eyes were dark in the night setting as they scanned over Arthur. His heart sped up at the sight of him, his cheekbones caught by the light on the desk, and Arthur wished that there weren't cameras in the arena.

"Emrys." King said slowly, remembering that he had a game to win.

"King." Merlin responded. One of his hands seemed restless at his side, and that was when Arthur noticed the white cat seated comfortably in Merlin's lap.

“Where the hell did you get a cat?” Arthur asked, completely forgetting about the Spy Games for a moment.

“Brad came with the room.” Merlin said as he leisurely pet the fluffy cat that was apparently named Brad.

Arthur stepped forward until he was leaning against the desk. "You pull off Bond Villain nicely."

Merlin hummed, giving Arthur a small smile as he looked up at him through his lashes. "Flattery won't help you win."

Arthur moved forward, leaning both hands on to the chair's armrests so that he bracketed Merlin into the chair. "I don't need flattery to win."

Merlin raised his chin high, his eyes locking with Arthur's. "You're very confident in that."

"I am." Arthur leaned closer, so that they were practically nose to nose. "I can also tell you that you aren’t here to look pretty." He said, focusing on Merlin's lips beneath his. "So why don't you tell me why you're here?"

"I'm a distraction." Merlin purred, his lips almost against Arthur's."Is it working?"

Arthur was leaning in, but Merlin’s words stopped him. His brows pinched together, and then it clicked.

"Damn it!" He shouted, pushing away from Merlin and racing to the door. He flung it open, hoping there was still time to save his flag.

~~~

While Emrys distracted King, Mordred and Morgana were across the floor, looking for Team King’s flag.

"Do you have it yet?" Mordred asked, his foot tapping impatiently against the office's carpet floor.

"Surprisingly, it's a lot harder to crack open a safe than it looks" Morgana said as she pressed her ear to metal door of the wall safe. It had taken a while to find the hidden compartment behind the filing cabinet, but it had already been ten minutes since Morgana had started to break the lock and there was only thirty minutes left. Time was ticking down and Mordred didn't know if the other team had found Team Emrys’ flag, concealed in plain sight on the wall of the club.

Mordred heard something shift and click. Morgana turned to look at him, a grin spreading across her lips. She pulled open the safe, inside of which was filled to the brim with red fabric. Team King's flag.

Morgana pulled it out, clutching it in her hand. not bothering to close the safe, she started towards the door, "Come on, let's go and win this thing."

They ran out of the office, just in time to see Arthur run out of the office where they had last seen Merlin cooing at Brad.

Morgana laughed at Arthur's harried expression. "Distracted, King?"

Arthur didn't leave time for niceties. He ran at full speed and tackled his sister to the ground. Although, Arthur was tall and broad, he was well matched against Morgana, who was quick and calculated. They tumbled on the ground, each getting in a few good knocks. Mordred watched with amazement as King twisted and grabbed the flag from Morgana's hand, stumbling up and away from them.  

He took a step back, his eyes watching them carefully. Behind him, Merlin dashed out of the office, taking in the scene in front of him and the flag in Arthur's hand.

Mordred’s eyes locked with King’s. Mordred had to win. He had to prove himself and he had to help Emrys. Mordred had idolized Emrys and King since he had started training, but he knew that in that moment, Emrys was his team leader.

“I’m so sorry.” Mordred said, moving his hand to the small of his back and raising his gun. Arthur’s eyes widened and his mouth opened as if to protest, but Mordred’s finger already pulled the trigger. The blunt dart stuck to Arthur’s chest, making him flinch in surprise. Arthur looked down at in disbelief.

King looked around, his eyes landing on Merlin, and his lips breathing out "Emrys..."

Overhead, Gwaine's voice was heard “OH!” sounding more surprised than commentating. “Man down! King has been taken out by Bane.”

Arthur sighed with a put upon expression as he dropped the flag to the floor. He rolled his eyes as he carefully kneeled and then laid himself down onto the floor. “Damn.” Mordred heard King mutter.

Mordred’s heart raced. He had never thought he would take aim at King. Even if the gun was filled with sticky nerf darts. He was so surprised he hadn’t yet retrieved the flag from where King had dropped it. With a short look to Merlin across Arthur's 'dead' body, Morgana stepped forward to retrieve the flag.

“Stop!”

Mordred turned in time to see Leon rounding the corner.

“Oh, Knight.” Morgana grinned as Leon raised his gun to stop them. “You’ll go down with your King.” She raised her gun and shot him. Leon staggered back, and when he looked at her, there was a dart sticking ridiculously to his forehead. In an over dramatic manner, he crumpled to the floor with a thud.

Looking back at King, Mordred saw that he was pouting at the ceiling as he played dead.

“Damn you, Hex.” Arthur muttered from where he was lying on the floor, hands resting on his chest.

“Shut it, you’re supposed to be dead.” Morgana said.

Emrys looked down at King, making a move to step forward. He stopped, looking at Morgana to make sure she had the flag.

Morgana backed away towards the stairwell, the red fabric secure in her hand. “Well, Emrys.” She said with a grin. “Might as well make it romantic.”

She raised her gun and shot Merlin in the chest. He staggered back, looking at his chest, and back at Morgana with wide eyes. Then he grinned.

“Friendly fire!” Gwaine’s voice shouted wildly. “Hex has taken a shot at her own team leader! Emrys has been taken out!”

Morgana made a mock salute, curled the flag around her arm so that it was out of the way and ran to the stairwell where she would take the elevator shaft to the warehouse floor.

Mordred watched in disbelief as Emrys fake-stumbled over to King's body, falling to his side.

"King! My love!" Merlin said in a drawn-out and absolutely cheesy fashion. “If we die, I’m happy to die with you, my sweet King.”

“For the love of- Fuck off, Emrys" Arthur said, as he played dead on the ground. “You know you’ve won. No need to rub it in.”

In response, Merlin curled up next to Arthur, one arm resting on Arthur’s chest where the dart had metaphorically split Arthur’s lifeblood. “Shhh, my love don’t speak” Merlin said as he forcefully pressed his finger to Arthur’s lips, “Just hold me while we die in each other’s arms.”

“You get way too into this foreplay business.” Arthur grumbled. Nevertheless he curled an arm around Merlin’s shoulder, holding him close.

Across the hall, where Leon was playing dead, he rose a hand into the air. “I did not need to know that.”

“You’re ruining the moment, Knight!” Merlin said from where he was cuddling Arthur.

Arthur smiled and Mordred was not sure if King had lost this game at all. After all, he still had Merlin.

Overhead, Gwaine spoke as the Spy Games came to an end. "There’s a firefight in the club, Elyan is down and Gryphon has just-Oh! Nevermind. He’s down too.”

“We've got a pair of corpses snuggling on the office floor. Emrys and King, may I kindly remind you that you're supposed to be playing dead- don't flip me off!"

“Hex has made it to the warehouse floor and yes! She has Team King's flag!” Gwaine shouted. “There! She’s done it! King’s flag has made it to Emrys’ home base!

“Team Emrys has won the Annual Spy Games!”

~~~

In the basement of HQ there was a relaxing lounge and bar. (Of course this was only the first basement of HQ and the several beneath were filled with only God knows what). It was sleekly designed, similar to the geometrical style of the 1960s with smooth round chairs, paneled walls, and crystal beads hanging from the chandeliers.

In the center of the room there was a low white couch surrounded by several bright colored bean bag chairs where Team Emrys and Team King celebrated a successful Annual Spy Games.

Behind the couch, where there was a bar, Leon was collecting drinks from the bartender. On one side of the couch Elyan and Gwen chatted with one another, since they hadn't had time to catch up before the Spy Games had begun. In his wheelchair Gwaine was talking with Elena, apple juice in hand since his medications had prevented him from his usual celebrations. Mithian sat on the coffee table, seeming to have coaxed a story out of the usually-quiet Percival, who was sitting cross legged in one of the bean bag chairs. Mordred was shifting awkwardly in his own bean bag chair, but that seemed to be caused by the way Kara was smiling at him, rather than anything to do with the unsturdy chair.

Merlin watched the agents as they relaxed after an exciting day, the two teams melding into one. There was something sweet about the fact that despite being on different sides that day, no one seemed to be bitter about having lost. When it came to the Spy Games it was more about the journey than the destination. Both teams had done well, so both team were happy with the day’s work.

Merlin was loosely lying in his own bean bag chair, with his legs outstretched and his shoes thrown in the corner. In the same bean bag chair, curled around Merlin’s side, was Arthur.

"Are you sleeping?" Merlin poked him.

"Nooo." Arthur mumbled. His eyes were still closed, his cheek pressed into Merlin's chest, and his arm wrapped around Merlin's waist. "'m resting m'eyes."

Merlin sighed, feeling Arthur's body sink lower with the movement. "It's been a long day."

The Spy Games had always been this way: running around with the adrenaline rush of a full blown mission all without the same level of danger. Everyone always ended up over exerting themselves by the end of it, which was exactly why their celebration consisted of lounging around.

Merlin ran his hand through Arthur's hair. "Too tired to celebrate tonight?" Merlin teased.

Arthur shifted and looked up at Merlin. His eyes were filled with mirth as he said "Oh, I don't think so, Emrys. After all, you did win fair and square."

"And don't you forget it." Merlin leaned down and pecked a kiss to Arthur's nose.