Fic: Buried Treasure

Title: Buried Treasure
Author: Corona
Fandom: Merlin/Torchwood
Pairing: Merlin/Jack
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: In no way mine or anything to do with me. I own nothing.
Summary: The mountain of dirt collapsed entirely, to reveal a dirty man, in a long coat.
AN: For neptuneskisses , who wanted Jack/Merlin, thunderstorms, magical centaurs and 'stopping evil from finding the holy grail.' I did my very best to include everything!



"So, this centaur," Arthur demanded, because he suspected he should at least try and take an interest in whatever Merlin was blathering about. "What is it?"

"It's supposed to be half horse and half man." Merlin told him.

Arthur stopped, long enough to give Merlin a disbelieving look.

"I'm serious," Merlin said. "I saw a picture of it in Gaius' copy of 'Dangerouse Beastes'"

"And it's a magical creature?"

Merlin pulled a face, then shook his head.

"I don't think so."

Arthur took a moment to think about that.

Then wished that he hadn't.

"I certainly hope it's a magical creature," Arthur said slowly. "Because the thought of something like that happening by accident is at best disturbing and at worse...even more disturbing."

"I never thought of it like that," Merlin said quietly, enthusiasm clearly dented by the cold hard light of confusing biology.

"I don't suppose there'd be any-"

"I don't really need to think about it any more." Arthur said flatly.

But, then proved unable to stop thinking about it.

He cleared his throat.

"I suppose witches give birth to them somehow, in some sort of vaguely disturbing magical way."

Merlin made a sound, which Arthur considered to be something of an overreaction to his comment.

"Well I can't see how else it would happen?"

Merlin promptly tripped over a tree root, and nearly landed on his knees.

Arthur caught the bend of his elbow, until he'd straightened himself.

"Do watch where you're going Merlin!"

"I tripped over...something." Merlin seemed intent on discovering what that something was. "There was a thunderstorm last night, perhaps it unearthed something."

Arthur peered at the dirt with only vague interest.

"We're still within Camelot's borders, so if it's treasure it's technically mine." He thought he should probably make that clear.

"It's a- It's a hand?" Merlin's voice dropped out of him in surprise.

"A what?"

"A hand," Merlin said, and he sounded about as disturbed as the discovery seemed to merit.

"What just a hand?"  Arthur tried move past him, and see what he had actually found in the ground.

"No, I assume it's attached to- Aaargh!" Merlin threw himself backwards, so hard Arthur had no choice but to go down behind him in the dirt, and falling in armour wasn't even close to a pleasant experience. He felt like he'd knocked every bone on steel.

And the squirming lap full of manservant wasn't making it any easier to get up.

"Merlin! Merlin for god's sake get off me."

"The hand!" Merlin flailed, very nearly knocking him in the face, and then made a concerted effort to get off, or at least fall sideways.

Which was only partially successful.

"The hand moved, it moved, I was touching it, and it moved." Merlin was still slithering back in the dirt, mouth half-open and eyes wide.

"Don't be ridiculous," Arthur said tightly, and then realised that his position seated in the mud was no place to be imperious and princely.

He got up; brushed dirt off of his armour.

"Don't be ridiculous," he said again.

Which was about when the mound of earth, that the hand was currently sticking out, of started to bow upwards, dirt sliding down each side.

Arthur drew his sword, he may also have made a noise which some people would consider un-princely, but under the circumstance....

The mountain of dirt collapsed entirely, to reveal a dirty man, in a long coat.

"Well hello there," he said in a remarkably friendly way for a man who'd just clawed himself out of his grave.

"Hello," Merlin offered from somewhere behind Arthur.

"Merlin!"

"What, I was only being polite?"

The man was still...unearthing himself.

"Well judging by you I'm, about...oh seven hundred years too early, give or take a decade. I never was very good at judging clothes."

The corpse? Zombie? Buried man...started to pull himself out of his...grave?

And once most of the dirt had fallen off he didn't really look very dead at all. Dirty and a touch lost, but not so much dead.

Arthur had been fooled before of course.

So it seemed unwise to make decisions too early.

"Who are you?" Arthur demanded.

The man patted dirt off of himself and smiled.

He had a lot of smile.

Arthur decided that was not a smile to be trusted.

That was a smile that was up to something.

"Captain Jack Harkness."

"Of what?" Arthur said suspiciously. Which seemed to throw the odd man, who'd just appeared from out of the ground ,significantly.

"Excuse me?"

"Captain of what?"

"You're rude, you know that don't you," Merlin complained from somewhere over his left shoulder. He at least had the sense to stand behind him.

"Just a captain," Jack said smoothly. "Though I'm a long way, and a long time, from the men I've had under my command, so maybe you're right, maybe I am just Jack."

"I'm Merlin and this is Arthur," Merlin provided, somewhat nervously.

"Do you think introducing us to the dead is wise?" Arthur said tartly.

But the man was too busy staring.

"Arthur and Merlin?" Jack looked between the both of them, like they'd just declared they were mushroom people from beneath the sea.

"Yes?"

Arthur was about to tell Merlin not to make things like that a question when the dead man spoke again.

"Arthur and Merlin, the Arthur and Merlin?"

Arthur raised at eyebrow at the man, he was becoming more and more convinced, had been underground too long.

"And at some point you're going to mention the quest for the holy grail."

"The holy what?" Merlin asked, he'd finally come out from behind Arthur and his armour.

"It's a cup?" Arthur said flatly.

"I knew what a grail was," Merlin said in a more than slightly annoyed tone of voice.

"It's a magic one." Jack held his hands about eight inches apart.

Merlin sucked air between his teeth, and Arthur made a face.

Jack stopped gesturing.

"Fine, I can see I'm a few years, and a whole host of sexual experiences too early. Just believe me when I say that you'll find it, even if Mordred-" Jack stopped talking when Arthur gave him a curious look. "Ah I wouldn't want to spoil the end." He finished, slightly less enthusiastically.

"So how did you get here? Are you lost?"

Only Merlin would make conversation with a zombie.

"He was buried," Arthur pointed out. "Several feet underground, I would think if he wasn't lost he was at the very least tragically misplaced."

Jack scratched his chin, liberally depositing mud there.

Merlin looked set to find him a handkerchief.

Arthur was going to have a long talk with him at some point concerning waifs and strays.

"Well either I've been teleported into some sort of parallel universe, where myth is history, I'm in some sort of holographic fantasy-world holiday resort or I'm still underground hallucinating."

Jack took a deep breath and shook mud out of his hair.

"But it's a good hallucination, in fact, I'm going to stop complaining and enjoy it for however long I'm here!"

"Are you absolutely sure you didn't hit your head?" Merlin asked, which was more generous than Arthur was planning to be.

"Perhaps you've been enchanted in some way, by magic," Arthur said suspiciously.

"Magic?" Jack raised an amused eyebrow. "Well I suppose that depends on your definition of magic."

"Say no," Merlin coughed.

Arthur very carefully didn't look at him.

"No," Jack said through a smile. "Definitely not magic, at all."

Then he paused and raised an eyebrow at Merlin, which seemed to get his attention.

"But aren't you supposed to be the greatest-"

Merlin had a particularly involved coughing fit, over the end of the sentence, that Arthur suspected was entirely faked, though he couldn't quite work out why.

Jack put his hands on his hips and tipped his head to one side.

"Ah," he said meaningfully, like everything had suddenly become clear.

"Wonderful, we've unearthed a lunatic," Arthur muttered under his breath.

"Awh, don't be cruel," Merlin said, in his annoying 'let's take care of every stray animal we come across, even if it's diseased' sort of way. "He's probably just confused, after all the 'being buried alive.'"

"Oh the buried alive is just a temporary thing. I'm supposed to be dug up in about...ooooh seven hundred years, so I can stop my brother from destroying the universe."

There was a pause.

"Do we have a magic sword?" Arthur asked, in what he was going to think of as his 'diplomatic voice'

Merlin shuffled his feet, and mumbled something.

"What was that."

"I said I don't think so."

"What about that sword my father killed the Wraith with?"

"Umm?"

Arthur stared at him in a demanding sort of way.

"I lost it," Merlin said helplessly.

Arthur's own sword didn't look particularly magical, it was a good sword but he didn't know if it could behead a zombie.

Meanwhile Merlin had unwound his neckerchief and was, to Arthur's considerable annoyance, helping Jack clean dirt off of his face with it.

And looking like he was enjoying it far too much.

"Merlin stop touching the zombie!"

Merlin swivelled and gave him a look.

"Now that's just unkind," he told him.

"I don't care, it might have diseases." Arthur was aware that he was in danger, ever so slightly, of whining.

But being passed over for a dead man covered in dirt, with untrustworthy teeth, was a little much.

"Hey!"

He wondered if he could get away with dragging Merlin back over here.

There was a possibility he'd be finding things in his soup for the next year if he tried that.

It was still tempting though.

And now Merlin was finding Jack utterly hilarious.

...

And still cleaning him.

"Merlin?" He wasn't whining.

Merlin reluctantly, and after giving Jack his neckerchief, just giving it to him, trotted back to Arthur's side.

"He's still a zombie," Arthur said crossly.

"Well what do we do with zombies?" Merlin was starting to put that air of trepidation into everything now.

"I think my father has some sort of decree for pretty much everything."

"Which is?" Merlin didn't look enthusiastic. Arthur thought they needed to have that little talk about 'protecting Camelot's borders' again.

"Same as any other dark creature I suppose, cut off its head, burn it, throw the ashes in the lake."

Merlin goggled at him. "That seems a bit harsh."

"Merlin they're dark creatures."

"I'm not a dark creature," Jack said, like the very idea of it was preposterous. He had taken over the task of finding his face under all the dirt, though he kept smiling at Merlin, like he'd discovered something marvellous.

Merlin didn't belong to him, Arthur had discovered him first. Merlin belonged to...Camelot!

"Or zombies," Arthur said carefully.

"I'm not a zombie," Jack said tartly, clearly annoyed at being ignored.

Not a peasant then?

"You were dead," Arthur told him, which ended the matter as far as he was concerned.

"The handy word in that sentence being 'were,'" Jack said through a grin.

Arthur gave him a look that he thought perfectly mingled disbelieving and imperious.

Judging by the look he got in return he hadn't quite managed it.

"You got better?" Arthur said slowly.

"Yeah."

"From being dead?"

Jack grinned.

"Yeah."

Arthur sighed.

"It's going to be one of those days isn't it?"