AN: This was a request from thecrazygingeraffe on tumblr. The prompt was "USUK, America is a waiter at a diner, England is a customer." I usually don't post my drabbles on here, but this one was a bit lengthier so, eh, I thought I might as well. Enjoy!


It was definitely not his first choice, and Arthur would readily admit it. However, one thing that Arthur would never admit to was how high he held sentimentality.

The fact that he frequented such a dingy little diner? That was a prime example of his values.

Russell's managed to stand through some tough times. The cheesy American knock-off diner, established in the fifties, had been there ever since Arthur could remember. Considering the fact that it was only four blocks from the Kirkland residence, Arthur and his family were known as regulars. This place had become the setting for a majority of Arthur's life achievements.

Russell's was the setting of Arthur's first birthday party, the first time that Arthur's parents told him about a baby on the way, the first time Arthur had ordered all by himself, the first place Arthur had spent his first paycheck. It was the place of Arthur's first date, his first kiss, the realization that he was gay. The place where he came out to his parents, where his brothers announced their plans to move far from home, the place where he announced his own move to attend a uni in France, of all places. And now, after being away for four years, Russell's was the first place that he returned to.

As soon as Arthur walked in, he was bombarded with nostalgia. They say that certain smells and sounds are the most powerful memory-triggers. The twenty-two year old smiled bitterly. Oh, the memories are definitely still here.

Arthur was pleasantly surprised when he was greeted by the same staff members that were there before he left. The same aging waitresses and the middle-aged bloke at the host stand. The greetings were simple and clichéd, the usual "how was uni," "I can't believe how grown you are now," "what a nice young man you've grown into," "our little boy's a graduate!" and the like. Arthur graciously accepted them, nonetheless.

"Alright, alright, it's great to see you all, but you have patrons to feed, yes? Let me enjoy my good old BLT. I haven't had it in ages. You know how much I miss a good BLT? They don't have anything like it in France, I'll have you know. God, the food there was not my favorite, thing, I'll tell you. I digress, I'll be at my usual seat at the bar, if that's alright," Arthur waved them off.

The young man took a seat at the counter. The third red stool from the right. That one was his usual seat. Arthur chuckled, realizing that it was still as worn and rickety as it always had been. None of the decor had changed, not even the seating, it would seem.

"Hello, sir! My name is Alfred and I'll be your server tonight. Could I start ya' off with something to drink?" Arthur was snapped out of his thoughts.

The first thing he noticed was the accent. At one point in the diner's lifetime, the staff had been required to mimic an American accent, but that had long been dropped after mixed results. This one, however, was impressive if not genuine.

The second thing he noticed was the unfamiliarity of his server's face. Growing up here and knowing all the staff—after all, he was just bombarded by the majority of it—Arthur was, to say the least, rather confused.

"Who are you?"

"Uh," the boy was caught off guard. "My name is Alfred and I'll be your server…?"

Arthur nodded. "Er, yes, I'm sorry. I grew up around here and I thought I knew everyone, apologies. You must be new then?"

"Not particularly," the boy shrugged. "I've been here for a good couple years since I started college."

"Ah, I see. Thank you… Alfred, was it?"

"Yup."

"Arthur, pleasure to meet you… I'll have an ice tea, thanks."

"Coming right up!"

What a strange boy, Arthur thought. It was always interesting to meet an American living on this side of the pond. Most Americans were tourists. And the fact that this one managed to snag a job at Russell's, of all places, was remarkable. They didn't just hire anyone around here. There must've been something special about this kid. This in itself sparked Arthur's curiosity. He made it his own case to find out what was so great about this Alfred character.

"Here's your ice tea, sir. Do you mind if I wipe down the counter? I'll try to stay out of your way-"

"No, I don't mind, go right ahead."

Arthur sipped at his tea, occasionally glancing at the college boy until he was too bored to take the silence.

"So I take it you're American?"

Alfred was a bit startled at the sudden question but smiled and nodded.

"Yessir, born and raised in Massachusetts. I'll tell you, my father wasn't the happiest fellow when I turned down NYU and MIT for some place all the way in London, but hey, he's not the boss of me."

"That's quite a move, though," Arthur commented. "But I understand where you're coming from. I just graduated from a uni over in France. Can't say my parents were happy about that, either. But I'm back now. Say, have you met my parents? Kirkland, our name is Kirkland."

Alfred's face seemed to brighten at the mention. "You're that Arthur? Jeez, I never thought I'd meet you for myself! Wow, of course I've met the Kirklands! In fact, they were just in a couple hours ago. Victoria is such a nice little old lady. She'll be ecstatic to know you're back. She talks about you all the time."

"You're already on a first-name basis with my mother?" Arthur almost spit out his drink. There was definitely something special about this boy.

"You betcha'!" Alfred chuckled. His laugh was a bit adorable, Arthur noted. He wished his own laugh was as tolerable. "Well it definitely is a pleasure to meet you in person, Arthur. You must be creeped out, considering how much I know about you. Sorry 'bout that!"

"Let's make it even, then. Tell me more about yourself, Mister Alfred."

"Sure. You're lucky it's late and there's no one else here," Alfred snorted, continuing to wipe down the counter. "My given name is Alfred Franklin Jones, I was born on July 4, and am currently twenty years of age. I am an electrical engineering major at the University of London. My father is a business tycoon back in Massachusetts. My twin brother, Matthew, is currently pursuing an art degree in Vancouver. My mother died when I was young, so I never got to know her—don't feel bad or anything, it's not something I brood over. My favorite color is blue, I enjoy good hamburgers, and I've always wanted a puppy. My hobbies include video games, super heroes, and long walks on the beach. So, Contestant Number One, what else would you like to know?" Alfred winked and threw the rag over his shoulder, placing his hands on his hips expectantly.

"Would you care to go for a drink after your shift? There's some decent pubs around here, last I remember," Arthur offered.

"That sounds splendid. I get off in about an hour, though, if that's alright with you. Best fill you up with something beforehand, anyway. They're making that BLT for you, right?"

"Yes, of course. Sounds like a plan."


It wasn't completely unusual for Arthur Kirkland to stop by at Russell's more and more often. However, the fact that he only came within an hour of closing andonly on the days that Alfred was there was perhaps a bit unusual.

It wasn't completely unusual for Alfred Jones to stop by for a while at the Kirkland's and have tea with Mrs. Victoria Kirkland. It was unusual for him to start coming only when Arthur was there, even if it was past tea time.

So maybe, considering the unusual, it wasn't actually that unusual for Arthur Kirkland to find himself falling—and hard, for that matter—for a certain Alfred Jones. Nor the other way around.

On the other hand, what wasn't unusual was for Arthur to add another sentiment to Russell's. This time, he'd call it falling in love.


AN: Gosh darn I'm horrible at endings but I hope it at least kind of wrapped itself up and tied back to the beginning. ^^' Reviews and favorites make me happy!