Arthur sighed, laying his head on his hands. Sleep trying to lure him in as soon as he closed his eyes. He was on a talk show 'till a stupid o'clock in the morning. Yawning, Arthur ran his tongue around his mouth and realised he hadn't had a drink since before the show. "Agh where is he when I need him?" Arthur cried out in frustration. He needed to remember to buy his assistant a 'working' phone.

"Arthur!" Arthur jumped in his seat. Straightening his posture and clothes to make him look professional. "Arthur I'm here, I'm sorry I'm late!" The hyperactive assistant shouted through the door, out of breath. The blond relaxed realising it was only Alfred and not his boss. Alfred slammed the door open, luckily not breaking the door of the hinges with his strength.

"You're meant to knock Alfred, don't forget you're still on trial. I could fire you at any time." He exclaimed. Arthur suddenly realised his voice sounded hoarse. "What took you so bloody long git? I'm dying for a drink!" The blond wailed irritated, now reading over papers that were sprawled across the desk. "Go get me some tea!" He could be very bossy sometimes, like a mother when her child draws on the wall.

"A please wouldn't go amiss…" Alfred muttered under his breath when he turned to walk into the kitchen at the end of the room. There was a small glass tea pot next to the sink when you walked through the door. Alfred walked over to the pot trying to remember how to make a cup of tea. "How do I do this again?" Arthur was becoming impatient, the dryness of his mouth aggravated him.

"Alfred, why is it taking so long? The water is already hot!" Arthur shouted through shifting on his seat. Alfred laughed to himself, the floating piece of hair on his head (which defined gravity) bounced along. He thought the job would consist of him being his body Guard, his hero. Not his drink assistant. Alfred wasn't sure he would cope with this much longer but if it's for Arthur he will.

"Errm, Arthur. I don't acutely remember how to do this." He said laughing again staring at the foreign items in front of him. "Ya'll know I'm use to making coffee." His American accent slipping through on words because he was becoming anxious. Arthur cringed, he hated the sound of the accent. It reminded him of his younger days with his long gone adopted brother. Tears where at the corner of his eyes, frightening to fall. During the interview he had told Alfred if he wanted the job he would have to hide his accent or there would be no way in hell he would be staying by his side.

He brought his hands to his face to dry the specs of wetness drawing from his eyes. With him finally having the will to stand, once he calmed down a little, he followed Alfred's steps into the kitchen. Getting ready to show the man how to make a cup of tea for the fourth time since the interview on Monday. "Alfred you have been here for two days now, you have to be leaning something."

"I'm trying Arthur I really am!" He sighed, standing to the side in the small little box called a room. The British man pushed passed him seeing his head facing the ground. Arthur felt a little guilt-ridden and turned to face Alfred, grabbing his shoulder as reassurance, he knew he was trying but he could at least make more of an effort, Arthur thought. He then (again) shown Alfred how to make the tea in detail to how he liked it. Alfred was too confused every time he watched he kept wondering off to his own little world. When he came back into reality he realised Arthur had been shouting his name for the past 5 minutes.

"Arthur could you not just drink water or coffee?" Arthur looked over at Alfred in pure disgust, looking like he would kill him if he moved a single inch. Alfred panicked knowing he had said the wrong words. He stepped further back, but he found himself against the wall. He felt like Arthur was going to slap him.

"Excuse me?" Alfred definitely knew he had done it now. He was going to be jobless for the rest of his life. No one would ever take him on. All he had ever wanted was to work for Arthur. Ever since he saw him on TV. He had been surprised the none stressed happy Briton on television was a workaholic grumpy 'old' man (even though he was only 3 years older than Alfred) "Why do I want to drink that horrible liquid?" Alfred looked at Arthur in relief and confusion. Wasn't he going to fire him?

"Wait Arthur, you're not firing me?" Arthur laughed, he knew the American was thoughtless and full of himself. He never realised he was this bad. What had he let himself into? Secretly one of the reasons he hired the hyperactive American was because he looked a lot like his brother, especially with that stupid piece of gravity defying hair…

"Fire you? Alfred you idiot. I'm not going to fire you because you can't make a cuppa tea." Alfred relaxed, but Arthur's stare made him anxious. "However…"He said quietly more professional, "once we get you to the real job, then I shall start thinking about that…" Alfred was scared but excited. He was more than the drink assistant. He would be something important.

"Real job?" Alfred said squealy. Making the tea was hard enough what else was there to do.

"I hope you know how to write with proper English."

'Oh god' Alfred thought, he knew what was coming; he looked out the door, to the mass pile of paper work on the desk.

"Because your job is to do that paper work on the desk, supply me my drinks and needs. Meaning it is no longer my desk."

'No please no Arthur don't do it' he would prefer to just be the drink assistant, he would learn.

"But your desk."

Alfred thought this job would have be fun. O how he was wrong!