Merlin tried to make small talk, and although Johnson wasn't ignoring him, he wasn't really making much of an effort to be friendly either. Luckily, Merlin was not dissuaded.
"What do you like to do for fun?" he asked.
"Work."
"Other than work?"
"Read."
"What do you like to read?"
"Cold case files." This had to be the most boring person on the planet, but Merlin kept at it.
"What's your favorite?"
"My favorite what?"
"Cold case, or any case, of any temperature." It had been a joke. Johnson didn't laugh. Merlin merged onto the freeway.
"I don't have one. I look through cold cases to try and solve them." This was going to be a long drive.
"Have you ever solved one?"
"Once."
"Cool. What was it?"
"A cold case." Merlin was about ready to scream, but then he noticed that Johnson was trying not to smile.
"You're messing with me aren't you?" Johnson smirked slightly.
"You were making it so easy."
"I was trying to make conversation."
"And I was gauging your reactions to my non-answers."
"You were profiling me."
"Sorry. It's a habit."
"What do you see oh wise one?" Merlin asked, rolling his eyes.
"You hide behind humor. You are overly friendly when you don't trust someone, and we're going heading to Scotland, which is where you were born, or at least where you grew up. There's no hesitation in your turns, and why else would you keep a medieval sword there? You also really hate profilers."
"What makes you say that?"
"As soon as I started talking about everything I had learned your hands clenched around the wheel."
"I don't like people in my head."
"Not many people do. You also know more about this case than you're letting on."
"Do I?"
"Yes, and you're scared."
"You can stop now."
"Sorry." Merlin didn't reply. They would have driven the rest of the way in silence, but Merlin couldn't actually stand silence, so he started the conversation again pretty quickly.
"Where are you from?"
"Berkeley, California."
"That's nice. Did you go to school at CAL?" Johnson laughed.
"I didn't want to be anywhere near CAL. It was three blocks from where I went to high school, and that was much to close for comfort." Merlin chuckled.
"Fair enough."
"I went to NYU." Merlin nodded appreciatively.
"Good school. What'd you major in?"
"Theater." Merlin snorted, thinking the man was joking. He looked over, keeping one eye on the road and saw that Johnson was blushing slightly.
"You're not joking?" Johnson shook his head. "Then what happened? Why aren't you on Broadway right now?" Johnson rolled his eyes.
"It just didn't work out." Merlin didn't press the issue, sensing that there was a not-so-fun story there. "How about you detective? What's your story?"
"Trying to build up your profile?"
"And if I was?"
"I wouldn't blame you. I grew up in Scotland, just like you theorized. I didn't go to college, instead going straight into being a police officer. Then I became a detective."
"That's it? No wife? Kids? Girlfriend? What about your partner?"
"Iris? Not in a million years. She's not my type."
"I see. I thought she said that she spent a lot of time at your apartment."
"She does. We're friends and we work together. But like I said, she's really not my type, and I'm not hers." Johnson seemed to finally understand what Merlin was not at all subtly hinting at.
"Oh."
"Then, any boyfriend?"
"Why, you interested?"
"I'm at least ten years older than you."
"And I was joking. You are literally wearing a wedding ring." Johnson looked down at his hand, as if he'd forgotten.
"Right. Of course. That was a clever way to dodge my question." Merlin smiled.
"No. It's just me." An image briefly flashed across Merlin's mind. A man with golden hair and tan skin, laughing as he ruffled Merlin's hair just to annoy him. He shoved the image away.
"I'm sorry," Johnson said.
"For what?"
"You were remembering someone just then." Merlin really hated profilers.
"It was a long time ago."
"It couldn't have been that long ago. You're what? Twenty four?" Merlin shrugged noncommittedly.
"Long enough. For real this time, what do you do for fun?" Johnson let the subject change happen. Merlin knew that Johnson was going to tell Smith about everything that they discussed. He was only befriending Merlin because it was necessary for the case. Merlin was fine with it. He was doing the same thing.
The small talk continued until they reached a lake in Scotland. Everything around it was bustling city, but this lake, with the island in the middle, was the exact same as it had always been. The lake of Avalon. Merlin and Johnson walked down to the shore. Merlin took a deep breath. He used to come to this lake every single day, waiting for Arthur's return. He had done that until long after all of his friends had died. Then Camelot had fallen, and it had changed to once a week, then, as he moved on, once a month, and then a year. He hadn't been to the lake in ten years. Merlin looked to his left. A little ways that way and he would find the spot that he had sent Arthur's body off from. He turned to Johnson.
"I'm really sorry about this." Then he delved into the man's mind, only to be shoved out. He stumbled backwards. Johnson looked furious, but Merlin was not in the mood to deal with that. "How did you do that?"
"Why were you trying to get into my mind?"
"I asked my question first!"
"I don't care!" Merlin reached a hand out over the water, concentrated, and a moment later, Excalibur flew into his hand.
"I didn't feel like explaining how I did that to you! I was just going to block your mind for a few seconds."
"So you do know more about this case than you were letting on."
"So do you apparently!" They stood examining each other on the beach. Merlin considered going back into the other man's mind. He was definitely powerful enough to do it, the walls had just taken him by surprise. Johnson seemed to recognize the look on his face.
"Don't even think about it."
"Who are you?" Merlin asked. Johnson's hand snapped out and grabbed Merlin's wrist. He turned it over, and then dropped it, all in one motion. "I'm not a druid," Merlin said, realization dawning. "But you are." He grabbed Johnson's wrist and turned it over. The wrist was bare, but Merlin could see the faint shimmering of concealment magic. He brushed his fingers over it and it lifted, revealing the three connected swirls of a druid mark.
"That took me weeks to perfect," Johnson complained.
"Relax. I'll put it back." Merlin brushed his fingers over the spot again and the mark disappeared, This time, not even Merlin could see the magical patch. He had really outdone himself. It felt really good to use his magic again for something other than hangover cures. Johnson examined his wrist in surprise.
"This is really good."
"I'm aware."
"How? You're so young."
"I'm older than I look."
"Right. Next you're going to tell me you're immortal." Merlin raised an eyebrow. "You are immortal. You're name is Merlin. Last name Emrys. You're immortal. No way."
"So you know who I am, now who are you?" Johnson looked a little starstruck, but he managed to speak.
"I'm exactly who I said I was. My name is Jacob Johnson. I grew up in Berkeley, California. I went to college in New York and studied theater. My mom taught me some basic magic when I was young but I wanted nothing to do with it. Then she was murdered, so I got back into it and ended up at the FBI. Then I heard about this case and made sure that Smith and I were put on it."
"I haven't seen any druids in hundreds of years, and now I've seen two in one week."
"Well I haven't met any living legends ever and here we are so..."
"Point taken."
"So you obviously have some idea of what's going on here. Care to fill me in?" Merlin considered lying, but they had already gone past that point.
"Someone's obviously recreating the old story. My story."
"With the ritualistic way the killing is being done, do you think someone could be performing a spell?"
"It's possible, but that's some very dark magic, difficult too."
"So whoever's doing it would have to be really powerful," Johnson said. Merlin nodded.
"Why couldn't I sense you? I knew what Elodie Adams was right away."
"My mother placed wards on my sister and I when we were children."
"If it could keep me from sensing you, then you're mother was really something." Johnson smiled sadly.
"Yes. She was." He shook himself slightly. "How do you want to go about this?" Merlin could tell he had to fight not to kill him sir. It was a thing with druids, and apparently it still held true today.
"Nothing's changed. We keep investigating the case. Now we just know that we don't have to hide things from each other, even if we still do from everyone else."
"Nobody knows about you?"
"That I'm an immortal warlock from the times of Camelot?" Merlin chuckled. "No." Johnson smiled slightly.
"Fair enough. So that's really Excalibur?" Merlin glanced down at the sword.
"Yep."
"It's just been laying at the bottom of a lake all this time?" Merlin smiled sadly.
"Someone I used to know has been looking after it."
"So the lady in the lake is real?"
"Her name was Freya."
"You mean like your lab tech?" Merlin laughed.
"Yes. Strange how these things follow us through time isn't it?"
"Were you and she ever...?"
"I believe we had a conversation like this not that long ago. I thought that I was in love with Freya. She was wonderful, and I did love her, just not in that way. She died before I had a chance to actually figure that out though."
"How did she die?"
"The knights of Camelot killed her. She was cursed to turn into a beast every night."
"I'm sorry."
"It was a very long time ago."
"The person you were thinking of when I asked if you had someone. Who was it?"
"Getting awfully personal with the questions, aren't we?" Johnson looked slightly abashed.
"Right. Sorry. None of my business."
"It's all right." Merlin started heading back to the car. He did not look back at the lake, and so he did not see the slight ripple that ran across the water, almost as if something were stirring.