The one thing that everyone in the small city of Camelot knew for certain was that the mayor, Uther Pendragon, hated all magic and strangeness with a surly (but not unfounded) passion. Something as small as conjuring flowers made him grimace, and colourful illusions made him go pale like he was having war flashbacks. Considering Camelot was stuffed with sorcerers and odd creatures and the occasional time portal or undead cat, Uther's win in the election came as a bit of a shock. The masses outside the city were dying to know: How did Uther get elected in the first place?

The simple answer was that he got lucky. It was either Uther or a troll, and while the troll had a better political strategy, she also wanted to turn the entire city into a dumpster. The other contestants all came up with mysterious deadly illnesses and dropped out early on, so Uther won by a landslide.

However, that didn't stop the magical community from fucking with him every chance they got.

His first week in office, the government building was repainted overnight to a bright, glittering rainbow, the front garden had a sudden growth of foreign flowers that grew 50 feet tall and poured a gallon of immobilizing honey on anyone who walked under them, there was an infestation of thieving, anklebiting gnomes, and to celebrate his first full week, the building was lifted 500 feet into the air...with Uther still inside.

And the best worst part was that none of the citizens really cared. When Uther called around for magical repairs, no one felt inclined at all to help. The only person who agreed was the retired sorcerer Gaius Lefonte, and then only because his house was across the street and all the fuss interfered with his midday nap. Things never really calmed down, always one prank after another, and Uther started balding from the stress (also from a curse, but mostly from stress). Gaius was paid well to come out of retirement to be, for all intents and purposes, the mayor's magical maintenance man, but somehow, whenever a new problem arose, it always fell to Uther's son to manage the situation.

Arthur Pendragon didn't hate magic, by any means, but he would never use it and certainly didn't trust it. Mostly he dealt with magic like one would deal with an annoying, untrained puppy – with a wry smile and a sense of humor. He had a scrapbook of each curse, prank, or 'accident' to happen since his father started office, and if he was having a bad day, he would look through it and remember that his father's life was worse.

And he would laugh. A lot.

But sometimes it was difficult for him to stay positive.

"Fuck this thing. Fuck it. Up the ass. Dry."

"Sorry?" The front desk woman, Gwen, took out one of her ear plugs and look up at him with wide, brown eyes. "Did you say something?"

"I'm going to set the building on fire," Arthur said calmly.

"We tried fire, remember? And look what happened to Dimitrius."

Arthur winced. "He'll be alright...eventually."

Gwen raised a doubtful eyebrow, but she didn't say otherwise. "Gaius will be here in a few minutes to look at it. He's got an apprentice now. Did you hear?"

"The one who turned the sky into a pink ocean? Yes. I'm thrilled. Really."

Arthur wiped a hand down his face tiredly. Gaius had recently taken on his first apprentice in twenty years as a favor for some old friend. Apparently no one else would tutor the kid, and from what Arthur could gather, he was a walking disaster bordering on apocalyptic.

And now he would regularly be a factor in Arthur's already weird, stressful life.

"He is a little clumsy," Gwen said casually, as if manifesting whales in the sky was the same as tripping on a step. "But he's cute. I think you'll like him."

"If he can fix this, I'll marry him," Arthur said vehemently.

A crackled voice sounded from the walkie on Gwen's desk. "Visitors cleared for floor three."

"That'll be them," Gwen said. "Can you greet them for me? I need to plug my ears again, I can't stand this."

"Go ahead."

Arthur watched enviously as Gwen put her ear plug back in and sighed with relief. He had too many people to manage to do the same.

The elevator across the room dinged faintly, and the doors slid open to reveal their visitors. Gaius looked the same as he always did – shoulder length grey hair, long and unimpressed face, and traditional red sorcerer's robes. But the young man next to him did not look like any sorcerer Arthur had ever met. Instead of the regular billowing robes, he had opted for just a pair of worn, tight jeans and a bright yellow band shirt (which was, frankly, unprofessional, but Arthur could overlook that for the way the clothes clung to the other man's lithe figure). He had red prayer beads wrapped around each wrist, and while most sorcerers looked old or world-weary, this one was bright and smiling and young. He had an innocent look about him – maybe it was the dark, fluffy hair or the happily crinkled blue eyes or wide, hopeful smile – that made Arthur immediately want to bundle him up in a blanket and hide him from the world.

The protective attraction hit Arthur like a jab in the gut, and he tried (see: tried) not to stare too obviously as the men approached.

"Gaius, good to see you." Arthur's smile came out more as a grimace as he shook Gaius' hand.

"I wish I could say the same," Gaius said wryly. He gestured to his apprentice. "This is Merlin. I'm sure you've heard of him. His reputation tends to precede him."

Gaius' voice took an unimpressed lilt at the end, and Merlin smiled shyly in response as he shook Arthur's hand. "Hullo."

"It is a bit hard to forget raining jellyfish," Arthur said with a smirk.

Merlin winced and retracted his hand quickly. "It was an accident?"

"How do you accidentally turn the clouds into coral?"

"Mispronunciation," Gaius answered flatly. "We're working on it. Now, speaking of working...?"

Gaius' eyebrows rose expectantly, and Arthur's back immediately straightened.

"Right," he said. "Do you hear it?"

Gaius nodded. "I hear Mozart's Sonata 11. One of my favourites."

"I hear blues," Merlin supplied. He tapped his fingers rhythmically on his thigh. "Don't know what song, but I like it."

Arthur wanted to groan in jealousy, but he didn't. He said, "Everyone with magic gets a song they actually want to hear. Everyone else...well, I can show you. Follow me."

Gwen waved at them as they walked out of the front desk area, and Arthur waved half-heartedly back. "Gwen hears a wedding march. She's getting married in three days. It's making her twitchy."

They entered a dimly lit hallway of offices, and Arthur pointed to a few as they passed by. "Laura hears 'Friday' by that Rebecca girl, then George got that 'Baby' song by what's-his-face. The teenager."

Merlin started. "Justin Bieber?"

"Yes. Annis hears 'Whip it," Percy hears "Barbie Girl," Elyan hears one of those Spice Girls songs, and I'm not too sure about Leon, but he seems to be enjoying it now. Look."

Arthur cracked open one of the office doors, and a deep, manly voice echoed out, singing, "Nyanyanyanya nyanyanyanyanyanya..."

Merlin bit his lip to contain a smile. Arthur closed the door again. "He started doing that about three hours ago."

"And what happened here?" Gaius pointed to one office near the end of the hall. It was crossed over with caution tape.

Arthur sighed. "Kara. She threw herself out the window."

"What?" Merlin's eyes widened in alarm. "Is she - ?"

"Oh, no. She's fine." Arthur waved an uncaring hand. "We still have those jello monster bushes and - "

"Gelatinaria," Gaius corrected sourly.

" - right, and they cushioned her really well. She had to eat her way out, though."

"What was she listening to?" Merlin asked.

"Nickleback," Arthur said gravely.

"Oh, dear."

"Bless."

Arthur nodded. "I gave her a few days off to recover."

They turned left at the end of the hall, and then Arthur opened a door to a conference room and led them inside. The room had a long wall of window panes on the far side, and the view outside was lovely. While the sudden appearance of a carnivorous forest the previous week had made the grounds three times more deadly than they already were, it was also very aesthetically pleasing from the third floor offices. The purple oak tree with a craving for human flesh was especially easy on the eyes. But the view inside, however...well. Arthur still mourned the mahogany round table that once stood proudly in the center of the room. Now, that beautiful table was crushed and splintered under a cursed black piano that had materialized some time in the night and had since terrorized anyone to step foot in the building.

"This is it," Arthur said, a tinge of distaste in his voice as he gestured to the piano. "We can't move it or damage it in any way. And after what happened to Dimitrius, we haven't let anyone near it."

"That poor boy," Gaius said solemnly. "It's always the interns."

"Interning is the number one cause of death in the country," Merlin said brightly. Arthur may have imagined him puffing out his chest and preening, but he doubted it.

"It's not really the job that does them in," Arthur replied. His eyes locked onto a pair of shiny black shoes under the piano, and he began to slowly walk around it to find the owner. "It's their stupidity. Natural selection."

Arthur stopped behind the kneeling man and resisted the urge to slap him. "George, what the hell are you doing?"

The short, mousey man jumped nervously, but he didn't stop his task of polishing the base of the piano with a white rag. He glanced between Arthur and the piano with terror and whispered, "It stops if I rub it three times to the left and three to the right."

"Really?" Merlin trotted up to Arthur's side (right up to his side, brushing their shoulders together) and looked at George curiously. "That's weird."

"You think that's weird?" Arthur turned his head to stare at Merlin incredulously, but his expression tapered when he realized their proximity. His heart stuttered nervously as Merlin raised too-innocent eyebrows over his dark blue eyes, and Arthur's gaze couldn't help flicking down to catch the amused smirk curling on Merlin's lips.

"Why wouldn't I? It's not every day a piano gets a personality."

Arthur wanted to say something along the lines of 'it's not every day the atmosphere turns into saltwater, either,' but he could feel Gaius' judging gaze from across the room, and George had started to mutter nonsense at his feet, so in the end he just muttered a simple (and not at all breathless), "Right."

Gaius sighed and mumbled something that sounded like 'for fuck's sake' before saying loudly, "Merlin, I have to give Uther his blood pressure potion. Stay here to diagnose, but for the love of God do not cast while I'm gone. Is that clear?"

Merlin shuffled like a scolded child. "Yes, sir."

"I'll be back." He arched one eyebrow threateningly. "Behave."

A short silence followed Gaius' departure (silence meaning the only noise was George starting to weep over the piano wood), then Merlin turned to Arthur and asked, "So, does it do anything else?"

"Pardon?"

"The piano. Does it do anything else? Mind control? Tap dancing?"

Arthur shrugged. "It's what it doesn't do that's the problem. It's unmovable. It's can't burn. It can't break. The keys don't even work."

"Weird," Merlin whispered reverently. He ran a hand over the piano's smooth surface as he walked around to the other side, and Arthur watched with muted surprise as a golden glow shone around Merlin's hand in reaction. "This is complicated, layered spell work. Someone spent a lot of time on this."

"Someone spent a lot of time on a prank piano?"

Merlin smiled at him. Arthur's gut twitched. "Teenagers, probably."

"The Boyd kids again, I bet. They turned the building into a sandcastle last month."

"They'll accomplish great things."

"They already have. I don't think my father's been this worked up in ages."

"And what does he hear?"

"Key mashing."

Merlin pressed his lips together valiantly, but Arthur could still see the amusement in his eyes.

"That's unfortunate."

"Very. Do you think you can fix it?"

Merlin bit his lower lip uncertainly, and Arthur wondered vaguely how dangerous it would be to make out with someone against a cursed object.

"I know a spell that would work. It would deconstruct the layering, kind of like unraveling a ball of yarn."

"Do it."

"I have to wait for Gaius."

Arthur stepped over George and walked around to meet Merlin at the piano keys. His expression was grave.

"Merlin, I've been listening to a child's rendition of 'Chopsticks' for twelve hours. I don't care if you blow up the entire building. Fix it."

Merlin sighed dramatically. "The cute ones are always homicidal. Alright, hold on."

Arthur took a couple steps back as Merlin took out a small spellbook from his pocket and flipped to the correct page. He unwrapped the prayer beads twice on each wrist, then extended his arms over the piano lid. There was a beat of silence, during which Arthur may or may not have sneaked an appreciative glance at Merlin's bum, then Merlin said a spell lowly, under his breath, and the building immediately went silent.

Arthur ran his hands over his face with relief. "Holy fuck. Marry me."

"That's presumptuous," Merlin said, though when he looked back at Arthur, he was smiling cheekily.

Arthur threw his head back and laughed, giddy with his relief.

Somewhere across the room, George was sobbing loudly.

"Alright," Arthur said, a wide smile stretching his face. "Let's start with coffee, then. My treat."

Merlin turned around fully to answer him, a blush starting to form on his pale neck, but before he could open his mouth, a thud sounded from under the piano lid. Arthur and Merlin both jumped in surprise, and out of instinct, Arthur reached forward and yanked Merlin back by the shirt, out of harm's way.

Merlin pressed back into nervously into Arthur's chest. "So, what were you saying about blowing up the building?"

Another thud. The lid jumped.

"Did you say it right?"

"Yes? Yes. I definitely said it right. Maybe."

"Merlin."

"What? You try reading Druidic. It's like a toddler tried to draw a moose and called it a language."

The lid jumped again, higher. Faint squeaking noises echoed under the lid. George slowly rose up from wherever he'd been on the floor, his expression wide with wonder.

"George..." Arthur said warningly. He kept his hold on the back of Merlin's shirt and started moving them both backwards, toward the windows.

Predictably (because he's a fucking intern, Arthur thought), George didn't listen. He put his hands gently on the lid edge and raised it up slowly. Arthur waited for an explosion or a giant, mauling animal, but instead George just said,

"It's a monkey."

"What."

George lifted the lid up all the way so Arthur could see the furry little head poking out from where the strings were supposed to be. But there wasn't just the one – there were at least twenty odd little spider monkeys staring up at George with wide, innocent eyes. They chirped to each other and bounced excitedly.

Merlin nudged Arthur's shoulder and smiled. "At least it's not a bomb?"

Arthur grimaced. "I hate monkeys."

"How can you hate monkeys?"

"They're too smart. And they have opposable thumbs."

"And wings," George added. "Look."

The monkeys had started to climb out of the piano, and Arthur watched with growing unease as one balanced on the edge before jumping off and gliding across the room with leathery black wings. It landed a few feet in front of Merlin and shuffled forward.

"Okay," Merlin said, "so they're flying monkeys. That doesn't make them dangerous."

"That doesn't make them innocent, either," Arthur muttered.

Merlin crouched down a bit and held out a hand to the monkey.

"Hey," he cooed, "you're innocent, aren't you."

Arthur shook his head. "You're insane."

"You're a pessimist."

The monkey wrapped its little hand around one of Merlin's fingers and moved it side-to-side curiously. Everything seemed fine and innocent and dandy. But then the conference room door swung open and his father walked in with a smile on his face, Gaius trailing in behind him.

And that was, of course, when all hell broke loose.

The monkeys were all startled by Uther's sudden presence, and their immediate reaction was was to screech and hiss, revealing three rows of razor sharp teeth. Arthur yanked Merlin back as the monkeys took flight toward Uther's head, then George started screaming in a pitch only reached by scared little girls, and Uther was yelling about sorcery, and Gaius, somehow, didn't react at all except to give Merlin a very disappointed stare.

Arthur ended up pressed between Merlin and the windows with Merlin holding up a shield in front of him and angry monkeys circling overhead. He already had an escape plan in mind, but he didn't want to go through with it. The monkeys didn't leave him much of a choice when they realized how fun it was to bounce off Merlin's shield and started to crowd.

"Merlin, get rid of the windows."

"Did a monkey hit you on the head?"

"Shut up and do it. Trust me."

"We're gonna die," Merlin groaned, but he obediently reached back and slapped the window pane. Arthur immediately felt a breeze on his back.

"Hold on." Arthur wrapped his arms around Merlin and leaned back.

Merlin dropped the shield and flailed. "Fuck. Shit. Arthur!"

And then they were falling, Arthur clutching Merlin tight as wind rushed over their ears.

There was a loud smack.

And he passed out.

He came to with Merlin laying on top of him, covered in large, jiggling chunks of pink jello, slapping Arthur's face sharply.

"Wha-at?" He asked lazily.

Merlin sighed in relief and shook his head. "You concussed yourself on a jello bush."

"Oh, god. Never say that again."

"Shut up. You scared the shit out of me."

"Enough for a pity date?"

Merlin laughed and ducked his head, giving Arthur a brief glimpse of the chaos happening in the sky. And as the raging bat monkeys flew off into the sunset over the purple carnivorous trees, Merlin smiled down at Arthur and said, "Yes."

It was, possibly, the most beautiful thing Arthur had ever seen.