Pairing: Alfred F Jones/Arthur Kirkland (USUK)
Summary: Cold War AU. Arthur Kirkland and Alfred F Jones were the closest of friends, despite the age gap. However, Jones vanishes out of the blue one day and left Arthur hanging, which he eventually graduated and came out as a lawyer. Now, Alfred returns as a spy to try coaxing Arthur into spilling relevant information because Arthur has reluctantly taken up a case of defending a Russian spy.
Winter, 1962
New York, the Unites States of America
He was a 'traitor', partly because he wasn't 'American', mostly because he was defending an 'enemy'.
"Arthur, I'm back in New York. I was wondering whether we could maybe grab a cup of coffee or go to a film or something."The ever so familiar voice across the line never made Arthur grip on to the telephone more furiously, hands slipping due to the sweat accumulating on his palms like grease.
"Alfred? Is that... Is that really you?" Arthur inquired, even if he knew the answer, he wanted to hear that voice confirm it. The sweet voice of his...childhood companion.
"Of course it's me, Artie! What, I go on holiday for some time and you forget how I sound? How cruel!" It was him, it really was. The heavily exaggerated American accent, the overly eager tone in his voice... It was the only friend he had, before he suddenly vanished for years.
"When did you come back? Where did you go?" Arthur sounded too desperate, too out of character for his usual passive self. But did he care? Obviously not.
"Oh geez, why can't I have a decent conversation with you without you nagging my ear off? Seriously!" Though his voice was slightly muffled by the line, Arthur could still hear the amount of expression he has poured into his words. As always, the jumps in his tone showed all the intense, passionate feelings within. Those pure emotions. "Anyway, if you're wondering... I was actually in France studying Fine Arts for two years, and I was travelling mostly around Italy and Spain, I even went up to Switzerland! Can you believe that?"
"I can't believe you; still a child after all these years! But, why didn't you tell me before you..." Could Arthur bring himself to say it? To say how much he had wounded him after he mysteriously faded away? His grip was intense, voice shaking ever so slightly, "...before you disappeared?"
"Look, first of all, I did tell your brother when I decided to go to France to study. Second of all, this is when I'm going to make it up to you, okay? So which one is it? Films or coffee? I was planning to take you out for a few drinks, but I don't think that'll be a good idea knowing how you can get when you take more than three shots."
Arthur chuckled lowly to himself, almost sounding like he was puffing out some air. "I'd love to go to the pictures, but I don't think it could fit in my schedule. You haven't been in New York lately, have you? You won't believe how all these people can get; my firm will explode any minute! And I don't think Lili will like it if I go drinking again."
There was a brief pause before the man across the line decided to speak again, "Who's Lili?"
Arthur only realised that he didn't know about his fiancée, Lili - a lovely lady he was going to marry within a few months. "Lili's my fiancée. Her brother is an attorney general. I met her through her brother."
"Oh darn, I didn't think an old geezer like you would steal the ladies before me. Lili, huh? Is she cute?"
Was Alfred seriously trying to court his wife-to-be right in front of him? Was he trying to be funny with his sick sense of humour? "Is this a joke? Are you trying to steal my wife right in my face?"
"Technically, she's not your wife yet. And I'm just pulling your leg, why be so fussed up about this?" Alfred couldn't be serious now, could he? After all, he was known by the girls back in high school as 'The Smooth Operator'...
"You know what, drop it. You haven't been in New York lately, right? I know this new place with great pastry... And maybe coffee too. Are you in?"
"Hmm... I don't know... For someone who bakes toxic scones, inviting me for some pastries is like a bomber asking someone to check out the bombs of other people."Alfred used a few good seconds to laugh over his silly remark before continuing, "I'm just kidding. Can you pick me up? How about tomorrow?"
"Tomorrow sounds swell. I'll pick you up at... Where are you staying again?"
"Oh! I'm staying at my old place. Just for the time being, though. Can you come pick me up there tomorrow at... Say, when's your lunch break?"
"I'll come pick you upat noon, is that okay?" For once, Arthur was asking for his permission, which signalled his desperation to meet Alfred again.
"Sounds great! I'll see you tomorrow!"With that, Alfred hung up, never giving Arthur a chance to bid his goodbye. He did the same too five years ago, but worse because he didn't even say goodbye... Or at least his brother didn't inform him of this sudden decision to study Fine Arts in France.
This little telephone conversation elated all of them; Arthur, Alfred and Alfred's boss. In fact, Alfred wasn't even in France or Italy or Spain or Switzerland. He was always in America. He was always working for the CIA. Ever since that night he shared with him, Alfred never had the chance to live a normal life. Not even a chance to even share a few biscuits with his good ol' pal, Artie.
He wasn't some carefree artist, but a spy risking his life for his country.
He had committed crimes he had to repay to the country. Since he had great potential, the CIA let him work for them. On one condition that he devoted his life for them, and die one day when he wasn't useful any more.
Why would he tell all these lies to Arthur? Why did he even need to interact with Arthur if he didn't want to let him know of his past five years?
It was simple, it was part of devotion, it was part of the plan.
Recently, a Russian spy was caught and Arthur was tasked to defend him, much to his reluctance. He soon became the second most hated man in the United States of America, a cozy spot right next to the most hated man, Ivan Braginski, also known as the 'spy'.
These people had every right to hate Braginski, in Arthur's opinion. He had information about nuclear bombs and was lurking around exchanging information with Russian sources. It was, really a bad time to be a Russian acting suspicious in the States because it was the most heated period of the Cold War.
And now, Alfred F Jones was ordered to get close to Arthur to retrieve any information Braginski might have accidentally spilled. He had to get close to Arthur as a freelance artist and more importantly...
...The man he trusted.
The black Mercedes rolled in as Alfred jumped of the steps childishly and yanked the car door open with too much force, earning a glare from Arthur. With ease, Alfred slumped himself down onto the leather seat, stretching his limbs and feeling the cushion seep down due to his...weight.
"You idiot, you could've just ripped my car door! Do you know how many cases I have taken just to get this?" Arthur irked, not thinking that his first face-to-face encounter with Alfred after five long harsh years would be so...lively and heated.
"Ah, but as you can see... I didn't!" He smirked, gesturing the nicely sealed car door theatrically. Ah, he never really changed much, did he?
"That's because it's a quality car. Try that with some cheap car and I swear, even the best engineer in the world couldn't fix that!"
"Aw, you're such a killjoy. First I get nagged at on the phone, then I get another lecture? I get it, Mom." He teased with the new given nickname, a sly grin etched across his face. Arthur really did miss this mischievous companion, too bad he left without notice.
Which reminded him, he was outraged with this guy, why was he going so easy on him? "You know, everything's still not A-okay with me. You're paying for the meal and you know it."
"Oh, it's always great to repay your parents," he winked, crossing his legs as Arthur drove onto the busy streets with whining honks and angry drivers. Random insults were thrown across random pedestrians, vendors trying to advertise their products, men in trench coats holding their papers and getting to work. Really, a normal afternoon in the city.
When was the last time Alfred actually sat in a Mercedes and roamed around the city so relaxingly, without any fear of spies trying to assassinate him while he was sleeping? Innocently feeling the non-existent gusting wind against his skin, like how he used to with Arthur on the football field behind the hospital where Arthur's mother was before she passed away when he was 16. The fluttering feeling he had when Arthur lied his head down on his shoulder, fighting back his tears when he found out about his mother's death... It felt so wrong for Alfred to enjoy the feeling of Arthur's pale blond hair grazing his shoulder through his shirt, yet it felt like his head resting there was the most righteous thing to happen to him ever. Ever. Who in the right mind would enjoy his best friend resisting the urge of crying on his shoulder when his best friend's mother just died?
The crimson sunset looming over them, protecting them, shielding them... From his feelings... His feelings must be kept and locked away forever.
Of course, that was a long time ago, before all these chaos started. Of course, that was a long time ago, when he started developing feelings for someone so a daredevil he was, but wasn't that what he was best at? Being the one person no one else dared to be - a criminal on the stage, but a hero behind the curtains.
"So, Artie, what have you been up to, these past few years?" Alfred casually asked, eyes locked on the passing buildings and people outside.
"It's 'Arthur'. Anyway, it has been the same, mostly. A few people get mad at other people, they come to me, and I settle their tension or bring it to court," he explained in a more humorous manner, occasionally trying to look out for reckless motorists.
"Sounds tough. Are all your cases minor? Or have you taken up an major ones?" Alfred quizzed, eyes finally landing on that porcelain face, refined jawline, shaggy hair, emerald orbs... That maybe was a sort for another day. He was trying to pry out any answers partly for his boss, and mostly because he wanted to know everything that happened in Arthur's life while he was absent.
"Hey, there isn't such thing as 'minor case'. Every case matters!" He protested, then realising his sudden outburst, he decided to refrain himself with a little humour. "Well, in all honesty, most of my cases are helping those petty people get their refunds. Nothing to taxing, really."
Of course Arthur didn't want to ring up Braginski's case, he didn't want to let Alfred know how hated he was in the country. Sadly, this was the reason why Alfred returned. "You shouldn't take up anything to hard, old man. You might break a hip, y'know."
"Hey! I'm capable of defending important people too."
Was he finally landing his finger on the subject? Did he succeed? Alfred decided to press on it, "Oh yeah? What important person have you ever defended?"
"Well, I..." Arthur widened his eyes in what he was about to spill, then decided to bring up another name from a few years ago. "I defended this Japanese chap from the Japanese embassy! His name was.. Hong, was it? I think it was Honda... Yes, I think it was Honda."
Alfred clenched his jaw slightly in disappointment, his lips pressed into a firm line as he spoke again, "That's it? Some guy from the Japanese embassy? You studied in Harvard just for this?"
"Hey, it wasn't easy, okay? Honda was obviously innocent and I helped him straighten his name." Arthur's gaze were somewhat strengthen, making him feel like his eyes were about to pop out and shoot out and crash into someone else's car.
"How am I so sure you didn't just make this name up?" He teased, "Admit it, you don't have the guts to defend the hot shots."
Arthur was about to retaliate with Braginski, but the breath of his hitched at his throat, disabling his ability of speaking. He screwed his mouth shut and gripped on the steering wheels, locking his eyes on the road.
Alfred awaited Braginski's name, but it never came. Hence, he decided to let it go. For the sake of his working strategy his boss taught him earlier, and for the sake of the remains of their friendship.
After the sounds of a few humming cars passing, Arthur loosened the tension by asking about Alfred, "So, what have you been doing these past few years?"
"After getting my degree, I became a backpacker and painted wherever I liked. Mostly around the Mediterranean Seas."
"I never knew you ever into arts. I thought you wanted to become a doctor," he stated, glancing to meet Alfred's gaze occasionally. Arthur even remembered when Alfred wanted to be the heroes of the ones victimized by fatal diseases... Just like Arthur's mother...
"I... I never knew I was into arts either. But then... But then one day I woke up and I was interested in art and decided to go get a degree." Lies. So many lies. He was never interested in arts on tiny bit. Sure, he loved looking at Edward Hopper's works and some picture of a rose or a carnation, but he never really was one to sit down and stare at something and reflect on the philosophies and the meaning of life.
Arthur flicked his eyes to give Alfred a sideways glance of dismay, before turning his eyes back on the streets. "Then, where did you get your degree?" Arthur definitely knew something was fishy, and being the uptight person he was, he would never let go of a liar so easily.
Was Alfred really such a bad liar? Or was it because Arthur was a lawyer that set the pressure? He slowly moved his eyes to window before continuing, "I got it in a little French college. Nothing too fancy."
Arthur decided to let go of this, but seeing Alfred shifting uncomfortably in his seat was slightly different from his normal behaviour. Maybe he wasn't proud of his run-down budget university? After all, he wasn't from a very well off background. Well, at least the rest of his family was in a stable financial situation. "Then... Did you visit Canada, perhaps?"
Alfred's smile faltered, as he uses a hand to cover it, while at the same time using the elbow to support his chin. He definitely didn't want Arthur to see him break down like this. "Canada... I don't really think they'll have room for me." Arthur really did screw up. To bring up the one country Alfred didn't like talking about. To bring up the country that caused all the pain and distraught in Alfred's life. To bring up the reason he never grew up with a 'happy family'.
Hearing the despair in Alfred's voice, Arthur didn't want to press on any more. As a child, his parents always worked in Ontario, Canada and put him here to be under the care of his nanny. After a few years, they gave birth to a child and since then, they have practically lost contact and never saw each other again. It was even funny how Alfred has never even seen his younger brother.
Alfred always felt like he was the odd family member, like the 'extra' one. He even changed his surname because he felt that his nanny, Amelia Jones, cared for him more than the Williams household - his biological family.
To be continued...
A/N: I deeply apologise if this might be too short for your liking, I will try to elongate this in this in the future if needed. This idea is heavily influenced by the film 'Bridges of Spies'. Even so, I will twist the ending a little bit. Any suggestions of an interesting ending are gladly accepted. Thank you.
