Merthur Oneshots

I'm No Angel, I'm Just Me- First chapter

(A/N)

This is only the first chapter of my fic I'm no angel, I'm just me. It is a White Collar fusion fic, and the whole thing can be found on my Ao3. I probably won't be publishing it here, so if you want to read it, you will have to read it there only. 

It is a law enforcement AU set in modern New York, where Arthur is an FBI agent and Merlin is a criminal consultant.

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Goodbye, Merlin."

The day Merlin had chosen to break out of prison had dawned bright and sunny. He decided to think of it as a good omen.

Snip, snip.

Thin black strands of hair floated down the air and into the sink, staying there like an oil spill on the ocean. Merlin looked up in the mirror.

Good enough.

He picked up the makeshift razor, and flicked it twice to get rid of the excess water. Taking in a deep breath, he ran it across his cheek and his chin. More strands of hair floated down.

Repeating the process a few more times, he shaved off the beard which had been growing in the past few weeks; turning him from Prisoner 342 back to Merlin Ambrosius, former conman and art forger, the best in the field.

But alas, his heyday was years ago.

Three years, 8 months, and 23 days, to be exact. It was also the time when he had been caught. Though convicted only of bond forgery, he was also suspected of various other crimes, but there hadn't been any conclusive evidence to convict him.

A small victory. He had still ended up in prison.

He tossed his razor in the sink, pulling out a ziploc bag from the toilet tank. Inside was a dark blue uniform, an exact replica of the ones the guards wore. He pulled it on. Giving himself a last look in the mirror, he wet his hands and ran them through his hair, pushing back the curly locks into place. He cringed. They were, he decided, extremely unfashionable. But unfortunately, he didn't have a choice. Prison didn't exactly have decent barbers.

Or any, really.

Steeling his resolve, he pushed open the door of the staff bathroom open, walking out with confidence he did not feel. But that was the point. Act like you are supposed to be there, and no one will question you. No time to think about the consequences. They will just hinder.

He walked across corridors and around corners, nodding to his fellow guards whenever necessary. He went through the metal workshop, the sound of scraping metal piercing the air. When he reached the cellblock, a line of orange-clothed prisoners were marching back from the Yard to their cells.

And to think, he was one of them yesterday.

And he might be again, if he didn't play his cards properly.

Freya.

If he didn't do this, he would lose her, possibly forever.

At last, he reached a mesh door, the last obstacle he would have to pass before he was out. Pulling out a makeshift security pass he had made from a cassette and a utility card, he swiped it against the machine beside the door. He watched in apprehension as it read the card.

The light blinked green, and the gate opened. He let out a relieved breath.

He tried stepping through, but the guard outside caught the door, giving him a once over.

Merlin's heart caught in his throat. He didn't let it show. It was one the first lessons he had learnt.

A moment later, the guard let him go. Merlin shot him a smile.