By the time Merlin joined Kingsman Harry Hart had already been terrorizing the agency’s home departments for half a decade. Tech, legal, supply, all of them. As individuals, everyone loved him. As departments, he was the bane of their existence. There was a monthly drawing of lots to see who had to be his handler next. While ideally once an agent found a well matched handler they never changed it up if at all possible, Galahad got on with all of his like oil and water.
Until Merlin was suddenly saddled with him. As the first new tech in almost a decade and as green behind the ears as the come, Merlin didn’t even get the chance to draw lots. Everyone simply decided that he could have Harry and they would all wash their hands of him. Call it an initiation rite. Niviane had told him with the headset held out in her hands. He’d taken it reluctantly but by the time he introduced himself to Galahad it was without a drop of hesitation. They didn’t speak much, that first mission. But Merlin studied his every move, tried to understand the way the man thought. It didn’t take him ten minutes of active ops to know why no one else ever wanted him.
Harry Hart never listened. He may as well not have a handler as much as he took to heart what anyone ever said to him. He was hot headed and arrogant, would take information and advice then very politely tell you to shove it up your arse. Sometimes with those words, other times with no words at all. In the end, he did exactly what he thought was right, and what he thought was always right.
Even if it was often destructive.
The second mission Merlin joined him on, Harry seemed genuinely surprised to hear his voice through the comm. “Draw the short straw, Merlin? Or did they decide that you would be permanently stuck with me?”
To which Merlin simply laughed. He was good at reading people, and he’d pegged Harry Hart from the very beginning. “Oh no, Galahad.” He said and then paused, for just the briefest of moments.
“You’re stuck with me.” Merlin assured him.