He didn’t care if the dance wasn’t a real Indian dance. Or if the guy wasn’t a real Indian. Or if the whole town folded up at night into a big vinyl suitcase.*
Modern AU. Based (very loosely) on this 1939 movie with David Niven and Ginger Rogers, in which Niven is the Son in (wait for it) J.B. Merlin and Son Department Store. THIS IS TOO BIZARRE FOR ME TO BE MAKING IT UP, OKAY. What’s even more bizarre: I did not remember that fact when I first thought of making this a Merlin fic, though perhaps it was burned into the dark, cobwebbed recesses of my brain.*
Merlin Emrys’ journey from Paddington Station to Imperial College’s South Kensington campus was proving to be much less straightforward than the one from Cardiff to London.*