Goodness gracious, it's been, what, three years since I last worked on a fanfiction? And here I am starting a new one instead of dusting off the score of unfinished pieces I kinda shoved in a corner?

Sorry, guys. But I hope you'll enjoy this new one, which, uh, I've kinda envisioned for about three years now? Or longer. Geez, make that around four years.

But I'm making this my summer project so I don't drive myself insane with boredom, so I'm going to try and update regularly on the weekend—probably on Saturday or Sunday, depending.

Please enjoy!

Lights on the Water

Prologue

Alfred shivered uncomfortably in the dewy lawn, toes curling into the soggy earth. He hugged himself in the haphazardly drawn robe, providing some barrier between his thin PJs and the biting October night air. Despite the cold, it was a beautiful night. Stars spilled across a deep velvet sky, and the dim light from distant street lights illuminated the hazy horizon in a warm orange color reminiscent of the dawn soon to arrive.

Yet the young man paid little attention to the ambient scenery. He squinted down the street, absently reaching out a hand to pat the small head of wayward curls clutching at his pants leg. Alfred may have been on his way to acquiring some mad frostbite, but at least he had enough decency to find his daughter well dressed for the cold. The blonde stubbornly ignored the ever faint shrieks from the house behind him. Alfred wasn't about to grace his would-be in-laws with a backwards glance after that last shouting match.

Asking him to let them have Amelia.

As if. So what if technically the only home he had was their basement? So what if he didn't have a car and had to ride a shoddy bike to work? At least he had a job—some kind of income to spend on buying Amelia all the necessities. He'd worked tons of extra hours to save up for all the toys she wanted, giving up precious time he could have spent looking for a hospitable shack to move into. And of course Amelia would come, too.

Alfred rocked on his feet as he hoisted the drowsy three-year-old in his arms. "I know just the guy who'll let us crash with him for a while," he murmured, itching to break into the hastily packed suitcase behind him for a pair of socks. Hopefully he'd remembered to stuff them under Amelia's favorite CDs—arguably more important. Amelia currently "wore" his shoes, laces expertly tied together and around the shoe to keep them on. Alfred wasn't sure he could untie the glorious masterpiece he'd created, so he'd probably have to dumpster dive for some new sneakers later. At the rate he was going, dumpster diving was looking more and more like his new living style.

His little girl didn't have thing to say about his friend and dropped her face onto his shoulder, murmuring some complaint about being conscious during her valuable nap time. "I know, kiddo," Alfred grumbled in reply. "I was totally rocking this awesome dream when Grandpa decided to detonate again. But I'll let you sleep when Kiku gets here. He's real quiet and real nice, and I bet you'll love playing with his dog."

Did Kiku still have his dog? Alfred really wasn't sure. While they were roommates in college, Kiku adopted a Shiba Inu to help keep down their crappy fort while they wasted away at class and at work—or so his Japanese friend claimed. Alfred came to assume Yukiko was really just a stress reliever. Man, he missed co-having a dog. If he ever got on his feet, he'd totally adopt one. Amelia needed a friend that wasn't her dad or obnoxious grandparents.

Alfred raised his eyebrows as a small Nissan rolled up to him. Kiku must have gotten a new car (new to him, at least, because the thing looked about as new as the shoes guarding Amelia's feet). He readjusted his hold on the dead weight snoring and drooling on his shoulder and hoisted his duffle bag on the other arm. Kiku exited the vehicle in a hurry, already tuttering something about his clothes—"Or the lack of clothes! Alfred, what are you wearing? Ah, never mind that! Hurry, hurry, you'll catch your death standing out here like this! If I had known this was how I'd come to find you, I would come much sooner. I'm so sorry, Alfred—no, let me get the bag, you and Amelia settle in the car. And here, please, take my jacket. Is she warm? Does she have shoes?"

Good Lord, Alfred hadn't heard him ramble like this since his near mental breakdown over his physics exam junior year. He must have really looked rough. And, the blonde figured as he tucked his porcelain girl carefully into the back seat, Alfred guessed he did vaguely resemble a clean hobo.

Kiku stashed Alfred and Amelia's meager necessities away in the trunk and scurried back to the driver's seat. He and Alfred both glanced at the lonely bike propped up against the side of the pristine house, but Kiku wasn't about to mention it if Alfred didn't first bring it up. Instead, Kiku flipped the heat to full blast and turned around. "Alfred," he breathed. He shook his head, almond eyes alight in utter disbelief. "When you said you needed to get away, I had no idea the situation was this dire."

"It's not," the young man frowned. "It's just that Freedom's dad wanted to be a butthole tonight and I, uh… kinda called him out for it? So he, uh, kicked me out?"

"What? Ah, but I shouldn't keep this engine running in the middle of the street—so disrespectful to the neighbors, sorry. Please, Alfred, continue while I drive."

He offered a weary sigh in response, ruffling a calloused hand through his hair. "Man, I'm really not sure what happened back there. I was, you know, sleeping because it's night when Harold busts in the basement and demands that I leave—but without Amelia! Dude, he said I sucked at parenting! Like, who feeds her? Who clothes her? Who sits down and reads with her and plays with her? Me! Because that's what dads do! That's what I've done for the past three years! And you know what Harold and Margaret do when I'm busy? They plop her down in front of PBS and pretend she doesn't exist until it's snack time, and then it's nothing but stupid organic tofu crap—man, it's cool to be vegan and stuff, I'm all for that if it's cool with you, but my kid needs protein and the occasional ice cream treat."

Kiku winced at his furious whisper. He kept his eyes locked on the zig-zagging white lines on the road instead of peeking up to catch Alfred's ever reddening eyes. He hadn't seen his friend this upset about something since Freedom dumped him for the first time five years ago. Alfred was a sobbing mess—it was all Kiku could do to get coax him out of his room and back into the swing of single life.

Too little, too late, the young man now supposed, absently sliding down in his seat as Alfred's whispers regressed into small, hushed huffs of indignation. He placed hand back on Amelia's head, loosely twirling her ringlets and forced himself to calm down enough to engage in more coherent speech. "Kiku, my man, I seriously cannot think you enough for this. I swear, this is a temporary thing. We'll be outta your hair in no time—I already planned to ask this lady about a car, and then I'll find some place we can stay more long term, and I swear I'll pay you back for th—"

"Absolutely not," Kiku cut him off, sending a steely glance his way via the rearview mirror. His mistake cost him a heart breaking look at his miserable friend. Kiku was literally five seconds away from adopting this pathetic wet dog and his little girl, no matter if he didn't really have the room. But he'd had to sleep on a couch for an extended period before, so it wouldn't kill him to do the same now. "And you may stay as long as you need."

Alfred twisted his lips, but didn't try to argue. He looked at the lights racing past them out the window and patted his little girl's precious head.