"Okay, take the next left, go on about five feet and-I said LEFT! What do you not comprehend in these unambiguous instructions?"
"Sheesh I'm sorry! It's not easy listening to you while trying to make sure no one is sneaking up on me! Multitasking while my life is in danger isn't exactly the simplest thing in the world you know."
A sigh was breathed. "Then remind me again why you're a field agent?"
"Duh! Cuz I'm strong and quick and good at what I do! Plus, you're the one sitting behind a desk all the time, so you're not one to talk!"
"Mm hm. Well Mr. Strong and Quick, I suggest you shut your rambling before you get caught. The 'abandoned' warehouse you're occupying currently is not a safe zone in any sense. You need to find where the gang members have hidden the money without them finding you." The man talking was Arthur, and he was a voice agent specialized in planning attacks and giving instructions to the field agent through a discrete earpiece. Arthur himself never went out into the fray to do the dirty work, but he was very skilled at directing his designated field agent what to do in every situation he got into. It so happened that his designated agent was a man named Alfred Jones. Arthur had been given Alfred Jones's profile and a single photo of the man, but not much else. He wasn't allowed to know too much about him, after all.
Unfortunately for Alfred, he was given no personal information whatsoever about the man who talked his ear off every day, and Arthur knew this annoyed him greatly. There wasn't much he can do about it, however. Rules were rules. And being a secret service agent meant necessary measures of confidentiality. In any case, regardless of Alfred's frequent brash and impulsive behavior, Arthur rather enjoyed being paired up with him, not that he would ever admit it.
The computer screen Arthur was presently assessing displayed the layout of the abandoned warehouse as well as the precise location of Alfred. Arthur watched as the bright red dot showing Alfred's whereabouts moved forward before making a sharp left and heading down a dark hall. The blueprint of the warehouse on his screen indicated a small dip by one of the walls. Arthur grew suspicious.
"There appears to be an indentation in the wall on your right...yes right there. Perform a sensory assessment at once."
"Yes your majesty," Alfred huffed, just low enough that Arthur had to strain his ears to hear it. Always so dramatic, that one.
Alfred ran his fingers over the grooves in the wall, and when he felt the long crevice running down to the floor, he knew it was the hidden door he had been looking for. Taking out a small metal tool used for breaking apart specialized locks, he quickly maneuvered the device to his advantage, quietly undoing the concealed lock completely and opening the door. "Good call, Iggy," he whispered as he began his descent down a narrow, stone staircase.
Arthur cringed at the nickname; he would never get used to it no matter how many times Alfred would call him that. Each secret agent picked a specific number as their code name (Alfred's code name was 76), but of course Alfred thought Arthur's chosen number, 23, was too lame of a name to call him, and resorted to calling him "Iggy" instead. "Because you're British and one of my friends said that the Japanese word for Britain was Igirisu!" Had been Alfred's explanation. Arthur never understood the reasoning behind it but eventually stopped questioning the horrid excuse for a code name.
He continued to watch Alfred's dot move downward until he reached the end of the staircase. Arthur eyes grew. "Hold up, my readings are reporting high levels of energy coming from the room you're about to go into. I'm going to guess there may be two people in there right now. You should call the other agents nearby for backup, since you're not supposed to be taking the gang members down alone!"
Alfred, not wanting to reply in case he was heard, decided to roll his eyes and shake his head in response instead. He was an amazing agent, he could do it. Alfred carefully retrieved his hand gun, got in the ready stance, took a deep breath, and with a "You're not going to call for back up, are you? *sigh* Well good luck, 76," spoken into his ear, he barreled into the door with his right shoulder, knocking it open forcefully. Iggy was right, of course; there were two men in there, and since they were thrown off guard by the intrusion, Alfred used it to his full advantage.
"Take one of them out!" Arthur screamed through his headset; and so Alfred thrust his gun at the side of the man's head closest to him, sending him tumbling to the floor unconscious. Easy, Alfred thought. Now that he had one person out of the way, it would be a fairer match. The criminal who was not currently sprawled out on the floor brought out his assault rifle and fired at Alfred multiple times, barely missing him.
Arthur became frantic in his ear. "Watch out! Don't let him shoot you!" Alfred turned one of the large metal tables on its side to use as a makeshift shield for the time being. Then he unhooked a boomerang-like weapon from his belt and flung it out to the side. The bullets from the assault rifle ceased once the small boomerang made contact with the criminal's hand, cascading the rifle out of his grip and sending the man into a slew of curses. Alfred used this as his cue to run out from his safe spot and attempt to shoot the man in the leg.
"Don't kill him! Remember we want the criminals alive!" Alfred's exasperation grew. Didn't Iggy know how distracting he was when he was constantly shouting in Alfred's ear? But his attempted shot did not hit the target anyway.
The man tried to throw Alfred off balance by landing a solid punch to his stomach. Alfred had begun to block it but in the process his own gun was flown out of his grasp. It appeared this fight would be a hands-on match.
Another punch from the criminal, this time to his side. Alfred's hand shot up to do an upper-cut into the man's chin; followed by a swift kick, deranged growl, blow to the face, and side sweep of the foot and the other man was down. At which point Alfred, panting, brought out his taser gun to subdue him completely. A quick look around the room validated that the loads of counterfeit money were stacked in the corner, and the multitude of briefcases would surely offer even more affirmation of this gang's misdoings.
"Mission accomplished," Alfred stated proudly to Iggy as he cuffed the two criminals and tested his immense strength by dragging them upstairs and outside. A few phone calls later and the warehouse was secured by some other agents and all counterfeit money was confiscated. The stoic Chief of Agents, Ludwig (code name 62), even gave Alfred a firm pat on the back for a job well done.
After a few hours passed, Alfred was finally able to head home and rest; it had been a long day after all. He looked at himself in the mirror and assessed the damage to his body, overall not too bad. A few bruises and a cut to his lip was all that was left from the fight. He thought he made out pretty good, so why did this warrant such a scolding from Iggy?
"...And another thing! You can't just wait for my directions every time you get yourself into a tiff, you need to be able to think quickly in order to defeat the enemy! Not just mosey around until I tell you what to do!"
Alfred let a strong frown settle on his face. "Now hold up, I didn't mosey around! I think my reaction time was pretty epic, and honestly you're complaining that I listen to you too much? A while ago you were telling me that I don't listen to you enough!" He smirked a bit. "Seriously I think you're just running out of things to nag me about. So now you're just makin' shit up!"
There was sputtering on the other end. Sometimes Iggy was just too much fun to tease. "That's complete nonsense! I just want to make sure you're completely prepared before you get yourself into a dire situation, what happens if I'm not there to lead you on the right path?"
"Oh c'mon, you've been my voice agent in this gig for like two years now, everyone knows we make a great team! They're not going to separate us when we have a 97% success rate!"
Alfred had never been one to read the atmosphere, especially when the person he was talking to wasn't actually in front of him, but even he noticed the air over the conversation growing tense and somber. "You know that's not what I meant, 76. People in our field go missing or get killed often. It wouldn't necessarily be a surprise if something like that happens."
Alfred hated when Iggy got pessimistic and depressing like that. His heart rate skyrocketed even considering the possibility that one day a new person would be the voice in his ear. "No way I'll ever let that happen. Cross my heart, I'll protect you no matter what!"
"And how exactly will you do that when you don't even know my name, or what I look like?" Arthur asked, slight amusement overtaking the previous sorrow in his tone.
Alfred groaned loudly, "Ughhh! I still think that's SO unfair! How come you get my profile but I don't get yours? Why can't I know what you look like? It doesn't make any sense!"
"Ay, that's the secret service for you, I suppose...and it's not like I can actually call you by your real name anyway, so even though I know it, it's useless for me." Arthur ignored the "gee thanks" from the other end and continued. "I should probably leave you alone now though. We're not supposed to be using our classified work equipment when we're not on the job. It's bad enough I have to disable the recording sector so we don't get caught."
"Aw c'mon, man! We do this all the time and no one's noticed. And besides, I love talking to you!" Alfred felt his face grow red and for once was happy the other man was not in front of him so he wouldn't see his embarrassment. "I-I mean. Like as a friend! I lo-love talking to you as a friend!" He hoped that didn't come off too weird or anything. Unbeknownst to Alfred, Arthur was also blushing profusely. "It's just like...we've talked basically every day the past two years, whether it's work-related or not. And like, I don't talk to anyone else as much as I talk to you, ya know?" Alfred couldn't stop the words from tumbling out of his mouth. "And I feel like I know you really well even though I don't know any personal details about you. Is that weird? I just wish we could hang out, or I could at least know your name." The other side of his earpiece remained quiet. Alfred blushed harder. "Basically you're my best friend, dude."
He heard shaky breathing from Iggy's side for a few seconds before the other man finally responded. "...ah...yes, I-I consider you a...close friend as well." Alfred released the breath he didn't realize he'd been holding. Iggy continued, "Unfortunately, I just don't see how a normal friendship would be possible in our occupation. It's forbidden that we meet face-to-face. That would complicate things far too much, I'm afraid."
This hadn't been what Alfred was hoping to hear. He deflated slightly even though he understood. He took this job for a reason, he loved the rush of being on a case, of catching people who disobeyed the law and delivering justice. He loved playing the hero. But strangely, whenever he thought about his job, it would always bring him to thinking about Iggy. He had gotten Alfred out of so much trouble, had helped him at every turn, he felt like he owed this man so much but he would never be allowed to see him. If Iggy had ever relented his rule-abiding nature and said he wanted to meet up privately, Alfred would jump on that opportunity faster than a cat pouncing on a mouse, or something like that.
The scary part was that even if they did meet one day and Alfred did lose his job, he wouldn't care as much as he should. Being a secret service agent was his life, yet he would give all of that up for this brilliantly snarky British man. God, he was in deep wasn't he?
"I understand...well I guess I should go. Have a good night, Iggy." With a final "goodnight, 76" from the other end of his earpiece, he turned it off and started to fish for something to eat. A lonely dinner in a lonely apartment which led to another lonely night of restless sleep. Ah well, he was used to it.
Two weeks passed; two weeks filled with researching a new case-this particular case dealt with recent hacker attempts against major government officials, not Alfred's favorite type of assignment.
"Ugh, when are they going to move me up the ranks so I can protect the president instead of doing lame cases like these?" Alfred whined mournfully through his headset.
"76! You're being recorded right now! And you know it's going to take you at least six more years before you'll even be considered for that kind of position. You'll have to prove yourself in more ways than one."
The whining continued, "But I'm ready to be the hero for the president of the United States! Imagine how cool I'll be! I bet I could even wear a cape-"
"Secret service agents do NOT wear capes-"
"Oh yeah? Well I'll be the first then."
"...get back to work, 76."
The hacker case was almost at a close. They had frozen most of the group's assets, all that was left to do was send out the report of the detained suspects. Alfred didn't feel satisfied. "I just feel like...I don't know. When me, 62, and 90 were at the apartment assessing the scene, something just felt off. Like maybe there was a clue that we were missing somehow? I know we seized the laptops and data they had in there, but I just have a gut feeling that there's something else hidden that we skipped over."
"62 and 90 always perform on a highly detailed and skilled level, I'm sure if there was something else they would have uncovered it," Arthur replied rather disinterestedly.
"No. I honestly think you're wrong this time; sorry but I always trust my gut instinct. I'm gonna go back there later tonight and see if I can find anything substantial."
"Without anyone else? Are you completely mad? You could get murdered!"
Iggy was such a worrywart. "No one's gonna be there! All the suspects have been obtained! And if you keep complaining then I'm going to turn my earpiece and tracker off when I go so that I won't have you screaming in my ear the whole time." Alfred knew the right things to say in order to get what he wanted.
The other man relented with a "Fine...you can go. Just don't turn your earpiece or tracker off. That's a sure way to get yourself killed..."
"Anything for you, Iggy! And don't worry, no one's even going to be there! I just want to do one final back-up sweep, I'd hate to officially close this case without settling my gut feeling."
"Yes yes, I know. Do what you must."
Alfred arrived in front of the apartment, checking his surroundings every so often to ensure his solitude. The doorframe was covered in 'CRIME SCENE, DO NOT ENTER' tape, however, it looked as though they had been slightly tampered with. Strange, Alfred thought, none of the other agents should have come back here after the tape was put up. Oh well.
"Is something wrong?" Iggy asked into his ear. How did he always know what Alfred was thinking? It was like the man had a sixth sense or something.
"Nope, nothing wrong," he whispered back. He undid the majority of the crime tape quietly so he could unlock the door to the apartment.
"Okay good. I hope you know that I still do not condone this 'secret mission' of yours. I don't even have the proper blueprints for the apartment you're going into so I can't get a reading on energy levels and-"
"Dude calm down." Alfred cut him off in a shushed tone. "I'm fine, really." With that, he pushed open the door and stepped inside, minding some broken glass down at his feet. But as he looked up into the dark apartment, his heart stopped. Two, three, four men with flashlights were standing in the living room area, frozen in their tracks at the sight of Alfred at the door. It looked like they had taken apart some wood paneling and were retrieving what appeared to be highly advanced technological devices hidden inside the walls. Alfred's heart took a moment to begin beating rapidly.
In the second that followed, the first man to react to Alfred's appearance grabbed a semi-automatic pistol from his belt and at an alarming speed brought it up to fire directly at Alfred. It hit his stomach instantly. Searing pain erupted from Alfred's core as he shouted "CALL FOR BACKUP NOW!" praying to each and every God that there was another agent nearby that could help him. On the other end, Arthur had just been about to ask Alfred why his breathing had changed when he immediately heard the gun shot a moment later. His own heart began to race disturbingly fast as Alfred yelled for backup, something Alfred had never done before. Ever. This was very, very bad.
Arthur pounded on the Emergency button and quickly issued a distress signal to all agents in the area, providing them with Alfred's coordinates. As he did this, Alfred had attempted to recover the best he could and sprinted out of the apartment before he was hit again. He had earned awards in his youth for being the fastest runner in his school, so he hoped that his agility would be enough to get him out of this situation alive. Despite being shot, every muscle in his body was urging him forward, to escape, just escape, and not pay attention to how much agonizing pain he was in. There was shouting and heavy footsteps behind him, even after he made it to the street and darted in a zig-zag formation away from the scene, less of a chance of a bullet making contact that way. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he swore he heard a semblance of a police siren from not too far away.
Even through the pounding in his ears and the constant stream of gunshots being fired from behind him, he managed to hear Iggy frantically yell "I've called for backup! They should be right there! Don't get hit again, whatever you do, DO NOT get hit!" Right before a second bullet made contact with the back of his leg, sending him collapsing onto the ground with a pained cry. He heard a "No no God no no please Alfred please God let him be okay" before his vision turned black.
Four days. The last four days had been the longest, most agonizing days of Arthur's life. It had been four days since Alfred had been shot twice and lay unconscious in the street, where a second later the other agents had arrived, sirens wailing into the night as a warning to the four criminals that they would be in deep trouble if they stuck around any longer. They had all dashed in separate directions, but had been pursued hastily and thankfully all had been acquired. Alfred had been immediately taken to the emergency room, his wounds treated as best as possible. But he was still unconscious, four days later. Arthur couldn't bear it. He had fought and fought with his supervisors until he was allowed to see Alfred in the hospital. Before now, he had only seen one small picture of the man; the picture showed a bright face, huge smile and vivid blue eyes, tanned skin and cheeky demeanor. Now, as he looked down at Alfred's prone form on the hospital bed, he looked nothing like the picture that Arthur had been given. This man in front of him was washed out, pale and fragile. He had lost a lot of blood.
Arthur wished he could be thrilled to finally see Alfred in person, they had known each other for two years and he had desperately hoped one day he would be allowed to meet his friend, his best friend. He brushed Alfred's bangs to the side of his face, taking in as much of the other man's features as he could before his visiting hours were up. Even like this, Alfred was beautiful. Arthur had always known he was. Talking to Alfred every day was a highlight, something he looked forward to. Their bickering, chatting, corresponding, everything about Alfred made him happy. He wanted this man for the rest of his life. Once Alfred recovered (because the doctor specifically stated that he would recover eventually), Arthur would ensure that he would protect Alfred forever. Alfred had once vowed that he would protect Arthur no matter what, now Arthur would return the favor.
"AH finally! It's so good to be back, my God. I was counting the days, man, seriously. I hate being stuck in bed like a useless sack of potatoes," Alfred said to his Japanese friend, Kiku, aka 90. After three months and a mostly-full miraculous recovery, Alfred had begged his way back into his secret service office, promising to lay low, and not go out and do dangerous field work anytime soon. Even though he had been severely injured, this did not stop the Chief of Agents, 62, from chastising him repeatedly for going back to the hacker's apartment in the first place. "But," Alfred had argued, "if I didn't go back at that exact moment then we never would have found out the extra equipment they were storing in the wall paneling! So you should be thanking me!" 62 had just rolled his eyes, thankful that Alfred hadn't been killed but realizing arguing with someone so stubborn would be useless.
Ah, it was good to be back. Alfred maneuvered himself into his office chair as best he could with his crutches, taking bullets to the stomach and leg had some serious effects on his walking abilities. Oh well. It wouldn't last forever.
On his desk he saw that 90 had left him some mini-assignments, nothing too excessive for his first time back after three months. He was so happy to actually work again, anything beats doing nothing for so long. However, the absolute worst part of the entire time recovering was that he had not had his earpiece with him during his absence ("because why would you need it when you're not going to be working?" 62 had said), and so he had not once been able to speak to Iggy the whole time. It was torture. At least if he had had his earpiece then they could have talked and he wouldn't have been so bored and x100 lonelier than usual (even though his brother stayed at his house to look after him over those few months but STILL!) All he could think about every single day was being able to speak with Iggy again. But since he would be an office agent and not a field agent for a while, would that mean he wouldn't get his earpiece back at all? Had Iggy been reassigned to someone else, someone less foolish?
Completely lost in thought, Alfred didn't notice when the shadow of a woman loomed over him. "AHEM!" she cleared her throat loudly. This got Alfred's attention; he swiveled his chair around to face her.
"Oh hey 48! How's it goin?"
"Not too bad. But we've missed you so much here; we were so scared when you were in a coma for a week! Thank the lord you're okay now. It hasn't been the same without you, you know."
Alfred managed a slight flush at her words. "Aw you're too sweet. I missed you guys too. So what's up?"
"I just wanted to tell you that I've just been notified by the top official that you have a special mission to complete tonight."
He sat in his chair, dumbfounded. "...Wait...what? What kind of mission? I literally just got back from my extended absence and they're sending me out on a field mission TONIGHT?" He ran a hand through his hair. No matter how much he missed his job, he couldn't manage to complete something that required his utmost best performance, not while he was still on crutches!
The woman speaking to him, Elizabeta, was quick to appease his worries. "No no sweetie, this is something low-key. You're just going to be meeting with an ally of ours in a public place. There is no danger in this mission. We just need you to talk with him."
Confusion settled on Alfred's features. "What kind of assignment is that, 48? I have to go somewhere and talk to some random guy? That's kinda weird. Why can't someone else do it?"
Elizabeta wasn't prepared for this onslaught of questions. "Uhm well I think they thought this would be something good for you to complete, since you're a little incapacitated and can't do anything extreme for a while." She gave him a slip of paper with some information on it. "Take this paper, it has the man's name and the restaurant you'll be meeting him at."
Alfred glanced down at it. "'Arthur Kirkland'? Who the hell is that?" Elizabeta smiled to herself as she walked away.
Alfred crutched along the sidewalk, 6:45 pm, almost time for his meeting with this guy. After 48 had given him the paper earlier today, he had gone to 62 to ask the Chief some more questions about this whole "special assignment" business. Honestly, it sounded a little like a trap of some kind, but 62 had assured him that this meeting would be very important, and whoever this 'Arthur Kirkland' guy was, he had some valuable information that Alfred needed to attain. And AMAZINGLY, 62 had given Alfred his earpiece back! He was so ecstatic to be able to talk to Iggy again! (Unfortunately 62 informed him that Iggy had the day off and would not be able to communicate with him until tomorrow.) But no matter! Alfred waited 3 months to get his earpiece back so he can wait one more day! Regardless of whether or not Iggy would be talking to him, he secured his earpiece in place anyway, out of habit and elation.
So now here he was, crutches under his arms and earpiece in place, exuding as much professionalism as he could manage in order to make an amiable impression on the other man. He waited about five minutes until someone in a fine black suit walked through the fancy restaurant doors, glancing around quickly before his large green eyes settled on Alfred's face. Alfred felt himself blush heavily, much to his chagrin. He'd been known to give himself away whenever he found someone exceedingly attractive. Well hopefully this man wasn't the Arthur Kirkland guy and oh shit he's coming right toward me!
Alfred steeled himself to look as nonchalant as he could in order to save face, but it was probably too late, he couldn't help the redness of his cheeks. As the man stopped in front of him with a small smile on his face, Alfred forced himself to ask, "Are you Arthur, by any chance?" Please say no so I can end this embarrassment.
The man nodded once. Dammit. Alfred continued, "Alright well I'm Alfred, it's a pleasure to meet you! Let's head over to our table." The man still didn't respond vocally in any way, instead allowing himself to follow behind Alfred's slow, deliberated crutching to their designated table. This was just going to get much more humiliating wasn't it? They made it over to their table which was out of the way in a private section of the restaurant.
Apparently Arthur was the perfect gentleman because he pulled Alfred's chair out for him and helped him sit comfortably in it. Once they were both seated and staring at each other, Alfred grew even more flustered and so much more confused. "Sooo...umm, l-like you have something, to like, tell me? Right? I think?" God, he was getting redder.
Arthur then reached into the collar of his shirt, bringing some small black device out of the folds of his suit. Oh shit, is that a weapon? I didn't bring anything with me! Everyone told me this would be a simple mission! God, is he gonna take me down right here? Alfred's mind was a frantic whirl of panic, but then the man surprised him. The device wasn't a weapon, it was a...small microphone?
"Are you always so articulate when you meet people the first time?"
Alfred stalled. He heard the man loud and clear, heard the voice come from in front of him, AND in his ear? It was like a strange echo which caused a sudden palpation in his heart. That voice...he knew that voice better than his own. His jaw dropped.
"I...Iggy? Oh my God. IGGY?!"
"Shhhh! Lower your voice, git."
Alfred couldn't believe it, every inch of his skin was electrified, he began to shake with excitement and happiness and-
He was out of his chair as fast as he could, wobbling uncontrollably by not being able to put pressure on both of his legs evenly, but that didn't matter, because Iggy, his best friend, was right in front of him and this was the moment he had always hoped for, dreamed of.
Arthur was swift to stand up to stop the agent from damaging his body any more than it already was. "Please! Don't hurt yourself Alfred!" He gripped the man's shoulders as he steadied him, and looked up at his face, surprisingly seeing tears. "What? Why are you crying, love? Shhh, it's okay." He wrapped his arms around the strong shoulders, mindfully not putting pressure on Alfred's abdomen where the first bullet hit.
"No, I'm just," some sniffles, "I'm just so happy right now! You don't understand how long I've wanted this, Iggy-I mean...Arthur." He smiled as he tested the name out, the name he had been dying to know for two years. Alfred brought his hands up to grip his friend's face with care and stared at the beautiful green eyes before him. They smiled back at him. "But like...I don't get why the head agents allowed this meeting between us. I thought this was super against the rules?" He murmured, allowing his bewilderment to show through.
Arthur tried to look away as much as possible with Alfred's hands still keeping his face in place. "I may have...pulled a few strings actually. All it took was a heavy dose of arguments and debating the head agents to be able to see you. So regretfully, I want to inform you that I will no longer be your designated voice agent, or a voice agent at all actually."
Alfred felt his heart drop and let his hands drop to his sides as well. "No...you didn't need to do that! It's not fair, I wanted to meet you but I didn't want you to have to lose your job over this! Igg-Arthur! I'm so sorry..." Alfred felt terrible, this was all his fault.
"You didn't let me finish, git! Now then, I'd like to be the first to introduce you to your new partner in field work." Arthur stated soberly. He didn't offer any other explanation, he just let his words settle in as he watched Alfred's face go from sour depression to unhindered glee.
"WE ARE GONNA BE PARTNERS?" He quieted down as Arthur shushed him again. "I mean like...we are gonna be working together, face-to-face, all the time?" He smile couldn't get much wider. "I can't believe...wow...they let you talk them into that?!" Arthur nodded and Alfred smothered him in a huge hug. "I'm so happy," he whispered against Arthur's neck, "I'm so damn happy."
Arthur felt the life being squeezed right out of him. "Well," he rasped, "someone has to make sure you stay out of trouble. After that stunt you pulled, you're lucky you didn't get fired. Since you're very good at what you do, they decided to keep you, as long as you're under strict surveillance. I convinced them that you needed someone like me to look after you to keep you out of mischief."
Alfred pulled back a bit and looked incredulously at him, "'Keep me out of mischief'? Oh c'mon! I'm not a child!"
"Well you act like it." Smug. "Plus, you always say you want to be a hero but you don't even have one of your own. I hardly think that's fair. So from now on, I will be your hero."
Alfred felt his blush from earlier return in full force. "If you insist." He bit his lip and finally took his eyes off Arthur's face, choosing to glance away at their surroundings. Something clicked in place. "…Wait a minute…you set this whole 'meeting' up right? This is totally a date! We're at a fancy restaurant and all dressed up and everything!"
"Well, yes. I suppose you're right."
"Damn, you're so sneaky! You make a fiiine secret agent, Iggy."
"Stop calling me that! Now that you know my real name there's no point!"
There was an almost wistful expression on Alfred's face as he spoke. "Old habits die hard, I guess." He paused. "So are you excited to be my official partner?"
"If you're asking me if I'm excited to be saving your arse every five seconds, then no, I can't say I'm looking forward to it." Arthur smirked as he watched the man in front of him sport a childish pout. "I am, however, looking forward to spending time in your company, and hopefully getting to know you on a more… *ehem* personal level."
From the way Alfred's eyes widened, it was clear he understood the underlying message. "I really hope that means what I think it means."
"It means whatever you want it to, love."
Alfred didn't respond, instead took the time to admire Arthur's face: his smooth, pale skin, his beautifully high cheek bones, thick eyebrows accenting those gorgeous eyes, and those lips—holy hell. Alfred began subconsciously leaning his face towards Arthur's, wanting a better look, and also wanting a taste….suddenly he felt a hand blocking his lips from completing their quest. His wide eyes searched Arthur's for an explanation at the disruption. Arthur smiled.
"What kind of gentleman would I be had I let you kiss me before our date even started? Honestly, you need a lesson in proper dating etiquette." He took his hand off Alfred's mouth, letting it fall to his side.
"To be truthful, I haven't had much experience in dating etiquette, so perhaps you'd be willing to teach me a thing or two?" He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively. "And just so you know, I don't think I can hold off much longer, so we are definitely having our first kiss after this date."
"I think I'd be willing to allow that, agent. We best get this date over with quickly then so we can get to the good part." Arthur smiled naughtily at his companion, who smiled right back. Oh, what fun being a secret service agent could be.