Chapter 4

Training Day 5; 6:00 am

Harry cursed himself for what felt like the millionth time. His whole body ached. Even his hair ached. Gawain was a mad man! Even Oliver would cringe at the training regimen that Gawain had set up for each of them. Each trainee had a customized two hour training schedule to improve the areas they were failing in, but they also had group training on top for that for three hours every day. Then they were given a lunch break and time for a brief rest, then they were put back into Gawain's tender mercies for another three hours. Harry had never run so much, and pushed himself so hard before. Not to get away from Harry Hunting, or even from the Death Eaters! Every part of him hurt in new and more interesting ways each day. It was madnesses pure and simple.

Harry collapsed into the dewy grass of the back lawn, ignoring the way the perfectly trimmed grass tickled the back of his neck, and allowed himself a five minute breather before Gawain snuck up on him from wherever he was hiding to watch the others. The man was crazy good at his job as a spy, at least based on what Harry had seen so far. Short of having one of Mad Eyes magical eyes, Harry didn't think he would ever be able to spot the man if he didn't want to be found. Which said a lot for his skill considering he couldn't shut up for more than two minutes at a time. He had also apparently managed to master a skill that Harry previously thought only Professor Dumbledore had. The ability to act, or dress, like a mental ward patient without making everyone nearby fear for their lives upon first contact. Somehow, he managed to pull off the appearance of being an eccentric rich uncle, or on a really rare occasion, the appearance of a bored minor nobel.

Harry cracked one eye open, casting a quick look around him incase Gawain had started his stealthy approach. Fortunately the older agent was nowhere to be seen. Relaxing a bit more Harry quickly whispered a spell to relax his aching muscles and temporarily allow him to speed up the recovery of strained muscles. It was an unfair advantage, but Harry wasn't fool enough to not use any advantage he had over the others. According to Lamorak and Gawain this series of physical training would go on for two months before they even started on the main training for being a Kingsman. Once those two months were up, they were all apparently 'fair game' as far as their Trainers were concerned. Harry worried slightly from time to time that he wouldn't be able to get his strength up fast enough to please Gawain. Of course he also worried that he would, only to fail at whatever other tests they had planned for after this.

It was a scary prospect. Failing. The last time he had feared something this much, it was during the war, and even then he had only worried that he would fail his friends. He had never worried about failing himself, only failing others. Now, well, now he worried about failing himself. It was a strange thing. The ability to have the freedman to worry about failing himself. It somehow made all this effort worth it. While at the same time making it all the more frightening because he could only blame himself if he failed.

He closed his eyes for a second and took a deep breath, slowly releasing it before repeating it thrice more. Once his heart rate had dropped back to something closer to normal he stood up, brushed the grass off his ass, and looked around. Gawain was still nowhere to be seen, but he could see one of the hidden CCTV cameras of Merlin's watching him. Not that he had to look in that direction to know he was being watched. Harry had taken to using the Homenum Revelio spell anytime he left the trainee bunks. It was good practice, and it let him have the upper hand any time a surprise inspection of their skills might happen. He had realized quickly enough that Lamorak and Gawain were prone to doing secret tests of their skills in things such as observation, intelligence gathering, mental mapping, and other priority skills any good 007 wannabe should have.

The downside with the spell was the pain prolonged use put on him. Sure it allowed him to have a 360 degree view and it allowed him to see through solid matter, both handy skills for a spy in training. But the near crippling migraines made it a spell Harry had to use sparingly. He had also started to notice a few other quirks caused by the spell, though none of them hurt his chances at becoming the next Galahad.

"Would you look at this Culwch? One of the trainees is laying about," came a smooth, sultry voice from behind him.

Harry flinched and cast a quick Homenum Revelio but there was no one around him. Carefully looking around from beneath his lashes, Harry looked to see if he had missed any of Merlin's hidden cameras, but there were none.

"Trainees these days," came a second voice, smoother and more cultured than the first. "When we were trainees things were better."

There was a snort from the first voice. "Come off it, Culwch. I remember finding ways to skeeve off every now and then. I seem to remember hearing stories about your class catching the old Bruin and Merlin and posting pictures of them in the showers all over the building."

"We did no such thing, Galahad!"

Harry blinked his eyes open, snapping to attention and turning towards the voice. Behind him two nearly translucent forms were standing. Both were dressed in a standard issue Kingsman suit, and one, the taller of the two, was leaning on the handle of his umbrella. Neither seemed to have noticed him watching them yet, too involved in their argument.

"-What about the time with the pink dye, molasses, and the chicken feathers."

"Galahad," scold the older, shorter male.

Suddenly Harry realized he was looking at the ghost of the agent he was trying to replace, and the ghost of another dead agent. "Merlin's balls," Harry whispered.

The two ghosts froze and turned to look at him, the shock on their faces even more apparent than it was on Harry's own. The three of them stared at each other for a long time, before the two knights looked back at each other, then lunged towards Harry. Their ghostly hands grabbed at his shoulders, pulling him towards them.

"You can see us," the one called Galahad exclaimed.

"I…Yes," Harry said a little confused by the fact that he could actually feel the grip of the ghosts hands on him, rather than them passing through him like a cold wind.

"Oh Lord," muttered Culwch. "You can actually see us."

"Yes," Harry said again, glancing down at the hands still desperately clutching at his arms and shoulders.

"Oh Lord."

"You already said that," stated Harry, feeling a little calmer as the time went on.

"Sassy little minx, isn't he, Culwch," Galahad chuckled.

"What does this mean," Culwch asked.

The one called Galahad looked him over with a strangely penetrating eye. "You think he's one of the Oberon's CFAD agents?"

Culwch seemed to think it over. Neither had been aware of just what made the CFAD agents different, not that any of the knights knew who among them was a CFAD agent, or who Oberon was. The department and it's Head had been more rumor and legend than fact when they were alive. It was only after they died that they were able to sort out that the department was real, and just why those knights were a part of it.

"Must be if he can see us." Culwch circled him, looking him over. "He doesn't look like much. Bit small. Could use a bit more meat on his bones."

Harry glared at the ghost drawing himself up to his full height. "I am not that short. I'm six feet tall, thank you very much."

The one called Galahad chuckled. "Like I said, sassy little minx."

Culwch snorted. "As every Galahad as far back as the beginning seemed to be. I suppose this means he's the likeliest candidate to win."

Galahad laughed. "If he can make the physical requirements." He winked at Harry.

Harry scowled and crossed his arms over his chest. "I'm gonna make it."

"Determination. You're gonna need that to make it to the end once the real training begins," Culwch stated.

"And skill. Hopefully you're a good enough soldier," Galahad commented.

"I'm not a soldier."

"Oh," Galahad commented. "Well, that might count against you if you've not got the proper mentality or skills of a combat and infiltration solider."

Harry smirked at the ghosts. "Just because I wasn't part of the Muggle military doesn't mean I haven't fought in wars before."

"Oh ho!" Galahad nudged Culwch's ribs with his elbow. "You want to take some of that action?"

"What could you possibly offer me that I'd want if I won that bet," Culwch scoffed.

"Hmm," Galahad replied thoughtfully. Finally his shoulders slumped and he let out a gusty sigh. "You're right. There's not much a ghost can bet with. This would be so much better if we could make bets with the rest of the knights."

"What do you mean," asked Harry.

Culwch snorted and then seemed to glow a slow pink as he realized he had just made a noise he considered crass. Thinking it over, he decided that being a ghost was pretty boring since no one could see him. But now they had someone who could see and hear them! Perhaps this gave them a chance to get back into the betting scene among the rest of the personnel in the Kingsman HQ. "We'll tell you. If you agree to our terms."

Harry arched an eyebrow. "And what are your terms?"

"You tell us of any other ghosts you see on the grounds or in the manor."

"Fine."

"You help us leave messages for the other agents."

"As long as they don't catch me," Harry agreed with a stern expression.

"Fine." Culwch agreed. "You give us the inside scoop on the other trainees."

"Aren't you ghosts," Harry stated confused. "You realize you can pretty much spy on them 24/7 without any of them noticing."

"True. But part of being a Kingsman agent is being able to observe and deduce your opponents moves so you can be one or more steps ahead of them."

Harry blinked slowly as it dawned on him that Culwch was giving him a little a hint about what would be expected of him in order for him to pass. A smile slowly began to stretch over his face. "Agreed then."

Culwch and Galahad grinned widely.

"Shall I," asked Culwch. "Or would you prefer to tell him?"

"I'll do it. One Galahad to the next," he said with a cheerful wink at Harry.

Harry chuckled and glanced around quickly to make sure none of the other trainees, or their trainers had snuck up on him. Seeing that they were still far enough away not to be an issue, he turned back to the two ghosts and signaled for them to continue.

"The knights who are still at HQ between mission will often use Merlin's cameras, and the staff around the building, to spy on the trainees. They make bets about which candidates will score best on each test, which will do the stupidest thing, which will be cut first, and so on."

"They're betting on us?"

"Indeed. And occasionally they will attempt to interfere with the candidates in order to win their bets."

"And Lamork is okay with that?"

"As a Kingsman you need to be prepared for any eventuality, including unforeseen interference from civilians or other bystanders."

"So Lamorak and the rest of those in charge of our training condone this as a part of our training to see how we can adapt on our feet?"

"Exactly," Galahad chimed in pleased.

Slowly a smirk spread across Harry's face. "Well, this is going to make it far more interesting."

"You don't look worried," commented Culwch.

"I work best on my feet and under pressure." Harry's smirk got wider. "And I doubt that the agency is aware of just who my family is made up of. So they wouldn't know that the last generation were infamous for their infiltration, disruption, and pranking skills. Or that we have a tendency to go against authority figures if we don't consider them to have the needs of the many as their priority."

"Oh this is going to be fun," exclaimed Galahad. Even Culwch seemed pleased by the prospect. "Just be careful around Arthur. That old ass has no sense of humor."

"Noted." Harry glanced around them and caught sight of Gawain and Lamorak approaching. "Let me know what they are betting on next and we'll give them some real fun."

Harry spun about and darted around the side of the building before the two knights coming in his direction could spot him.

Two Weeks Later; Trainee Barracks, Kingsman HQ

Connor yanked off the last of his sweaty clothes and dropped them into his laundry bag sitting on the foot of his bunk. His chest was soaked in sweat, glistening in the harsh florescent lights of the room, the muscles in his arms and abdomen seemingly all the more defined after the harsh workouts of the last three weeks. Today, like the last four days, had been tiring. They had been run ragged by Gawain and everyone looked half dead. Connor was used to working hard, since his father was the kind of man who was convinced that all his sons needed to know how to fight like their ancestors. He was used to being up early for sword practice before school, then coming home and helping with the horses before practicing his sword skills again before bed. The regimen here was hard in a new way, using new muscles. But he welcomed it. He liked the change, like the ache in his muscles from a hard days work. It felt rewarding.

He moved across the room to the showers, turning the nozzle to warm before pulling it out. The water came out in a couple spits before finding it's steady stream. He stepped under the hot stream of water, closing his eyes and simply enjoying the heat of it as it beat down on his aching muscles. He allowed himself to simply stand under it for several long moment before turning to face the room, pushing his soaked hair out of his face.

Harry was in the room now, carefully removing his own sweaty clothes. Connor let himself watch for a moment, taking in the smooth, nearly hairless skin of his chest. Harry was a very attractive young man, tall and lean, with those wild twinkling green eyes that reminded him of the grass around his family castle. He was very much Connor's type of preferred bed partner, which was a bit of a problem since they regularly bathed together where all the others could see them. He had to be far more careful here than back home, where his parents didn't care if he wanted to tup one of their stable hands, or another young man from the village. Here he could tell his preference would not be looked upon favorably by his fellow trainees and possibly by the other knights he could end up working with. So he held himself back, despite Harry Hart making it incredibly hard to do so.

He jerked his eyes away as Harry leaned over, pulling down his pants, to reveal those plump, round globes that seemed to be constantly teasing him. He spun around, jerking the nob on the shower as far to the right as he could. He clenched his teeth to hold in his shriek as the water temperature dropped to polar. He remained under it for a count of twenty before turning it back to the hot water it had been, his erection having gone lump under the assault of cold water.

He could hear the others trudging in now, the door to the barracks blaming closed behind them. Wallace was groaning and complaining about the training again, and Connor wondered if the lad would even make it through this portion of the testing. Surely he had realized by now that this was a test? That Lamorak and Gawain were testing their limits both physically and mentally. They were trying to find out who would crack first. Who the weak link in the group was. Connor was proud to say that so far Harry was looking to be one of the strongest. No matter how hard Gawain ran them, no matter what crazy new punishment he meted out to all of them for one of them falling behind, Harry took it all in stride and excelled. He was approving in leaps and bounds compared to the other trainees, Connor included.

But it was more than that. Harry seemed to be more aware of things going on around them than the other trainees, and almost seemed to have anticipated what Lamorak and Gawain were going to throw at them. He often seemed more amused than worried, which struck Connor as odd. Harry also occasionally seemed to stair at nothing from the corner of his eyes. An action which reminded Connor, strangely enough, of his Aunt Ainslie.

Rubbing the bar of moisturizing soap over his chest, Connor contemplated why Harry would remind him of his strangest Aunt. Was it possible that Harry, like his Aunt, had the sight? Could he see the things that no one else did? Did Harry hear whisperings on the wind like his Aunt did? Could he see glimpses of the future?

If he did then mayhap it would be best for Connor to keep a close eye on him. If Harry Hart could hear the whispers of lost voices, catch fleeting sight of the spirits, or see glimpses of what was ahead, then that might be why he knew when their trainers had something nefarious planned. Which would explain why he wasn't as worried about training as the rest of them were, and why he seemed more amused than not most days.

The shower next to him turned on and Connor glanced to his right, noting that Harry had taken the shower between Connor and the wall. He tried his best not to blush, or to look too far south, as Harry closed his eyes and leaned into the hot water. It was a hard thing to do, and only the knowledge that he could potentially lose his only friend here if he was caught, allowed him to look away. Connor was the only Scottish candidate among the others who all appeared to be rich young Englishmen, and that was bad enough without them knowing he was homosexual. Connor sometimes wondered about Harry, who had a few mannerisms that spoke of a more middle-class upbringing than his fellows. Something that Connor could respect since it meant the other man was not unused to hard work. Something that seemed to be holding the rest of the candidates back from doing their true best. As if the idea that them being sweaty or rumpled would be worse than being kicked out of the trials. Then there were moments when Harry would say something, do something that was very Scottish as well. He wondered why someone who supposedly lived in London all his life, would occasionally say something with a vague Scottish something also made him think that he might be the only one among them who would be alright with Connor being Gay. Not that Connor would risk it of course. He wasn't that foolish, even if all his instincts were telling him it would be alright to tell the other lad.

This job, this chance, was everything, and he wasn't going to risk it.

He finished rinsing off the soap, risked another glance at Harry, then seeing the other trainee appeared to be unworried about any attempt at attack from Digby and his goons, turned the shower off. He grabbed his towel from the hanger on the side wall, rubbing his dark hair down until it was as dry as he could get it. Then briskly ran the town over his face and neck, over his shoulders, down his arms, then over his chest. Bending over he quickly dried his legs, groin, and hips. As he walked past the mirror near the sinks he glanced up and caught a blur of motion. Pausing only sightly he looked into the mirror and realized that the only thing in it's reflection was the back of Harry's head.

Looking away he quickly went back across the room, dropping the wet towel into the laundry hamper before returning to his bunk and the clean clothes he had laid out on his bed. He dressed unhurriedly as the others had all started to make their way over to the showers. By the time he was dressed in his clean siren suit, ready to head off for lunch, Harry was out of the shower and heading towards him. Connor glanced away as the towel around Harry's hips slid down an inch, revealing the sharp jut of his hipbones and the beginnings of the dark thatch of hair at his groin. Connor licked his lips and sat down to put on his shoes. He ignored how doing so put him directly at eye level to Harry's groin as the other man tugged the knot lose, causing the towel to drop to the floor at his feet.

Connor could feel his face heat up as a blush rushed up his neck. Harry's cock was a thing of beauty. Not too long, too wrinkled, or surrounded by too much hair. It was average sized for a flaccid penis, uncut as most Englishmen were, and the thatch of hair at his groin appeared to be neatly trimmed and as impeccably groomed as the rest of him. It made Connor's mouth water.

He glanced at the temptation again, licking his lips as the organ plumped up slightly, twitching in it's lush nest of dark curls.

Connor forced his eyes back to his shoes, realizing he had bungled tying them while distracted by the smooth flesh exposed to him. Huffing under his breath, he undid the laces and retied them as quickly as he could. When he finally allowed himself to look up, Harry's had already pulled on the siren suit and was placing his socks next to his shoes, and his hair brush. Harry caught him looking and gave him a saucy wink as he started to brush our his hair. Connor mentally cursed at himself, standing up and moving towards the door.

"Aren't you going to brush your hair, Connor," came the teasing voice of the trainee who came closest to being called a friend.

Connor froze only steps away from the door. Scowling he reach up with one hand to feel the mess of wet hair on his head.

When he turned around Harry was still standing beside his bed, a wide, amused grin plastered across his face. Connor suddenly wanted to punch him, even as his own dick jumped in his pants at the mischievous smile. Striding back to his bed he yanked Harry's brush out of his hand, staring the shorter man down as he used the stolen brush on his own hair. He could feel his temper rising when Harry simply smiled wider and gracefully sat down on the bed, leaning back on his hands to watch Connor fix his hair.

"Are ye just gonn' stair at me," he growled.

"I don't see why I shouldn't." Harry smirked and let his gaze move up and down over Connor, in a long, slow path.

"Ye aren't worried that one o' them might catch you staring at meh and think you a -"

"No," Harry shrugged. "They'll only be in my life a short while so I don't particularly care what they think of me."

"And what o' what I think of you," Connor asked, his temper beginning to cool.

"Oh, now that's something different." Harry smiled up at him.

"Is it now?"

"I could tell you all about it after lunch if you'd like."

Connor felt himself blush again. "Perhaps."

Harry chuckled, finally allowing his intense gaze to drift away from Connor's. "Well, then I shall get my shoes on and we can stroll of for some lunch."

Connor sighed and moved to sit on his bed. Harry Hart was one of the most infuriating, selfless, tempting, bastards he'd ever met, and he couldn't wait to find out what Harry planned to do with him and where he thought they could do it in a compound covered in CCTV cameras and trained spies.

Elsewhere in the Kingsman HQ

"Evaine's candidate is attempting to seduce yours, Caradoc" Bors chortled.

Caradoc pushed Bors away from the spot in front of the security monitors. The other knights crowded in behind him to watch the screen showing the Trainee Barracks, where, sure enough, Harry Hart was openly flirting with Caradoc's candidate.

Caradoc cursed as his nephew, Aodhan blushed and stumbled after Hart as he led the way from the barracks to the dinning area on the ground floor. The moment he had seen Harry Hart, he knew that the lad was going to be Aodhan's biggest competition to becoming a Kingsman. The lad radiated something intangible that made you want to follow him. He was a compelling individual and a strange one as well. Caradoc had caught him staring at nothing on more than one occasion as he watched the monitors, and the lad always seemed to know when they were up to something. He was fairly certain the lad was the one responsible for the camouflaged water balloons filled with sap and glitter that had been set up in key positions throughout the manner. Four of the other candidates had been unfortunate enough to set off the sticky glitter bombs, and, surprisingly, so had three of the full time agents. Including Arthur's pet knight, Cador.

It had been one of the best things he'd seen in a long while, that snob all covered in sap, neon pink, and lime green glitter. Caradoc desperately hoped that one of Merlin's CCTVs had gotten a good recording of it because the rest of the Knights in the field certainly needed to see this. Caradoc still wasn't certain how the lad had managed to hide the balloons so no one would notice them, but would still set them off.

"So," Bors started. "Any new ideas for what to set them up with next?"

Galeshin, Erec, and Bedivere, all grinned manically at Bors. Caradoc almost felt sorry for the trainees at having these three after them. These three could hold a grudge and all of them were certain that the sap bombs had been planted by one of the trainees. Caradoc was a little surprised that none of them even mentioned that Hart could have been the one to do it. They all seemed slightly fond of the lad, and Caradoc had to wonder how the boy had managed to get three Kingsman to treat him like that when as far as anyone was aware, he had not met any of them face to face.

"Hey now," Key chimed in. "Don't go too crazy. They are just trainees."

"You didn't get hit by the glitter sap bombs," growled Erec. "It took me a week and a whole bottle of Dindrane's special shampoo to get that out of my hair, and my suit was ruined!"

"Peacock," Bors chuckled under his breath.

Eric glared at Bors, who simply smiled back. Kay and Caradoc glanced at each other and sighed.