Summary: In a world where cities are protected by their own magnificent superheroes, Alfred finds himself with a new workmate to get used to. The only problem? They are both rival heroes in this city. Can Alfred and Arthur manage to work out their differences and be as happy as their secret identities have become?

Rating may get higher in later chapters so stay tuned and please enjoy my first real fic! ~


Cities were a mixed up place. Some streets were quiet, empty, the occassional elderly lady walking her dog silently along and away back home to catch up on a missed cup of tea and the daily soap operas. Others were full of children playing while their parents leaned against small fences to talk to one another full of smiles and the warmest of greetings within their small communities. Some were full of busy shopping teens chattering happily to one another about the newest albums on the charts and school and partners, as safe as usual.

Others were not so lucky.

"I-I'm scared.. Please, don't do this.. I-I haven't done anything wrong.. !" A woman's voice, quiet and raspy, pleaded into the darkness. The alley was shadowed, the distant sounds of cars passing by drifting in and out of earshot. The scent of rotten peelings and old, soured milk was all too pronounced; the remains of restaurants' waste most likely. It wasn't the sort of place one might want to find themselves in this late at night. A chuckle was the only response the woman was given, shuffling footsteps nearing and a tall, broad man loomed over her, reaching out with grubby hands to begin prying at her shirt. The woman's lips parted to give a cry for help, but a hand was firmly shoved against her mouth, growled curses streaming from the man's own mouth in warning. 'Move, and suffer for it.' Tears fell without restraint down her soft cheeks, trying desperately to move, get away, be safe, anything.. !

"Hey! Hey, you! What's a grubby guy like you doing to that girl, huh?"

The woman's eyes widened, glistened. The man turned his head, and soon wished that he'd never done it. Staring back at the pair was a far taller figure. His eyes were sky blue and full of the essence of freedom, surrounded by a perfectly shapen navy blue mask. Oddly enough, his clothing was tight to his body, not the usual casual gear a usual citizen would wear, a long cape cascading down from his shoulders and down his back, striped in red, white and blue. The man rolled his shoulders, puffing out his broad chest to show off the impressive physique he just so happened to have. The gloves were pulled back up to his elbows, wiggling his fingers around in them.

He grinned, but not in a friendly manner.

"You picked the wrong night to do this, buddy. Don't ya know it's my turn to patrol these parts now? No matter, you're gonna regret it either way, 'cause a hero's gotta do what a hero's gotta do and all!"

The woman covered her face and cowered by the wall, too overcome by shock to be able to do much else with herself. Trembling, she carefully moved a few fingers from her eyes, if only just to see what the sudden noises she was hearing were. Her attacker had been forced to the ground flailing and kicking wildly, but the newer man was having none of that nonsense.

It turned into one big scuffle with a clearly superior figure in the fight, if only for one reason. The bent metal bars tied around the elder man's ankles weren't there just by chance. This hero posessed strength beyond one's wildest dreams and fantasies. He grinned, eyes wide open as he grabbed the attacker up onto his feet and pushed him against a set of metal ladders (a fire escape, probably, but he didn't have the time to pay much attention to the minor details when he was being a hero!) which were easily bent like putty within his hands, warping the metal to tie around his body and restrain him. Brushing his hands off against the red of his suit, the man grinned, American accent thick with warning.

"Next time I won't go so easy on you, yeah? The police will be on their way for you," He hummed, turning on his heel with an outstretched hand, "Now miss, are ya alri- Hey, what the heck're ya doin'?" The hero came to an immediate hault, eyes narrowing and shoulders raising defensively, pointing accusingly at something.

The woman was wrapped in another figure's arms, obviously a male, but not that much taller, only perhaps an inch. There was no way he possessed the same power for his body was far too lean, but he was definitely one of them with his suit; a dark, forest green on the torso and charcoal black covering from his hips down. What was most surprising on his waist, however, was the dark silhouette of.. A horse? No, it had a horn. A unicorn, rearing up from the black on his side. His hair was a slightly different shade of blonde from his own too, he noted. Not to mention he had some major problems in the brow department, that was for sure! The American shook his head, staring up into a pair of amused, glimmering emerald coloured eyes. He could possibly have found himself stunned just by looking in them, he found, the way they seemed to glimmer like that-

"Learn not to take so long when you're saving somebody, git. I'll return her safely to save you the 'trouble'," The shorter male commented, raising a hand to brush his thumb over his own mask, eyes closing over. The American picked up a distinctly English accent, but he was given no time to comment on it as the other hero smirked, reopening his eyes. They no longer shone, they were glowing a neon green. Cradling the woman to his chest, he whispered something that sounded foreign, and their bodies were cloaked in the same light. It momentarily blinded the blonde remaining there, and before he knew it, the two were gone. Vanished. Out of sight and mind.

"Be more reliable, Comet."

The later silence was deafening, and the hero couldn't help but feel he had just been cheated out of what could have been another headline in the city newspaper. Flushing somewhat angrily, the superhero turned quickly away, making a mad dash to escape before he could be questioned and return to his former identity.

This was the third time that Nightsteed had disrupted his adventures, and Comet could not for the life of him understand why.

It didn't stop him wishing he would show up the next time.


Alfred Jones loved his job, of that much in his life he was sure. Alright, so he wasn't the television star he had hoped to be when he was a child, or the next big thing in music, or even an astronaut. Out of the bag of opportunities he could have picked from, he had ended up working for a small publishing firm, specialising in getting new authors out there into the wider world of literature. Years ago Alfred would never have dreamed of working with books of all things, not being the most interested man in the world when it came to reading, but it was the feeling of helping somebody else get a start in their dreams. Many of them had wished for these opportunities for so long, and here he was, able to give them that hope, that push they needed.

Being a simple sort of hero. That was the most fulfilling point about it all.

Stretching his arms above his head, Alfred let out a loud yawn, moving his fingers around as his legs soon followed, kicking out under his desk. It had been a long night for him and an early start to his shift. Not the best combination, but a trip to Starbucks for a coffee usually did the trick to give the man a quick boost. He had just read through and approved of yet another little snippet of a novel which had been delivered to him that morning, all about a fallen legal system and one man's journey to try and solve the problems for the greater good. They were always Alfred's favourite kinds of stories. The ones with real depth, real characters, real heroes. They mystified Alfred and captivated his mind.

"Aaaaah," He sighed, pulling himself together to settle down in his chair again, dragging himself back to his desk to shuffle through the mess of papers. How he ever found anything in the mess nobody was ever sure, but he seemed to do a damn good job either way so nobody questioned it much. Most of the time. Among the mess, however, were a series of newspaper clippings. Headlines and pictures and large articles alike, all mixed together, some pinned up on the walls around his computer. Every one was about the city's superheroes, the protectors. Alfred couldn't help but find himself lost in the photographs, expecially of a select few heroes he followed. Yet if there was something that stood out about his little 'collection', it would be a select colour scheme.

One wall was dominated by red, white and blue. The other, green and black.

'The Comet rescues elderly from blaze!' 'Who is 'Nightsteed'?' 'Are our heroes among us?' 'Thank you Heroes!'

Behind his glasses, Alfred's eyes sparkled. It was funny how just a mask and a casual outfit could throw people off a hero's scent so easily. Hell, he should know personally! Chomping down on the end of a biro, the American couldn't help but cast a glance down to the bag by his feet. A blue mask sat atop his folders, staring back at him, ready and waiting if the time came.

".. You have a rather unhealthy obsession with those superheroes, don't you."

"What?"

Swiftly, Alfred kicked the bag back into the shadows under his desk, quickly covering up a few articles that had been laying on his desk, trying to give a wide grin to hide whatever else he could have shown. Pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose, he tilted his head, eyeing the man standing in front of him. He was rather petite but his face looked young despite his horrible choice in clothing. What kind of guy wore a sweatervest these days? Not to mention the fact he was wearing a prefectly pressed shirt and trouser combination too which just didn't seem to match with his messy hair. It wasn't sloppy, just messy. Kind of suited him though. Yet, Alfred still had to wonder. Just how old was this guy and where the hell had he gotten those caterpillar brows from?

"The clippings. They're all about the local heroes in the area, right?" The man pointed out, holding his folders closer to his chest like the other man would jump up and steal them away into his mess of an office. His green eyed gaze drifted along the walls, taking in the numerous colour and black and white photographs that had been snapped by lucky photographers. Alfred blinked, turning his head in the same direction to see what he was looking at for himself.

"They sure are! They do some pretty amazing stuff, 'specially Comet. He's my favourite!" The blonde grinned, turning back around in his chair. He'd expected perhaps even a smile from the other, but his expression remained rather blank, bored almost.

".. Really, how interesting," The man mumbled, his attention turned to the more black and green dominated wall. His gaze lingered, and Alfred soon found himself drawn back to reality. He didn't have a clue who this guy was.

"Ehm, can I help you or somethin'? This is my office and-"

"I'm working at the desk on the other side of that wall," The new man responded, very slightly tilting his head forward in the direction of the wall he was still staring at. "I.. thought it would be appropriate to introduce myself to who I will be working alongside. Jones, right?"

"Yeah!" Alfred grinned, jumping out of his chair to extend his hand in greeting, waving it around to grab the other blonde's attention. He got it after a few more moments, but the shorter man seemed a little reluctant to do more than look at his hand. Alfred thought he ought to make it easier. "You can call me Alfred though, yeah? So what's your name, stranger?"

".. Kirkland," The man breathed out, shifting his folders into one arm so he could slowly reach out and clasp his fingers around the other's hand. "A-Arthur Kirkland." A gentle shake of their hands was given, but Alfred was having none of that. He was far too sociable to just let his new workmate go away without experiencing a proper greeting. Arthur gasped, his whole arm moving with the force of the hand shake he received. Strong hands...

"Good to meet ya, Artie!" A flushed Arthur quickly piped up an 'Arthur!' in response, but Alfred seemed to ignore him, keeping a firm grasp of his hand as the two committed one another's names to memory. "Just ask if you need any help around the department, I'm the guy to ask if you need a hero!" He sang, and for some reason, Arthur's poker face slipped. He'd smiled, just for a split second.

".. A-Ah, yes," Arthur cleared his throat, pulling his hand back a little too quickly. Alfred tilted his head, wondering if he had possibly done something wrong, but the man quickly shook his head in response, reaching over to touch a clipping that stuck out more than the others. "Could I have this?"

That wasn't.. Unexpected at all. The American looked over at the cut out photograph, and frowned slightly. ".. The one of Nightsteed? That.. That was in the newspaper this morning.." A bitter undertone laced through Alfred's voice, but he tried his best to hide it. Arthur still quirked a brow in his direction, curious. Alfred waved his hands and soon leaned over to yank the photo from his wall, holding it out. "I guess you can have it as a greeting gift! Do you like him or something? Comet is way better you know and-"

"Comet is an idiot, it's obvious." Arthur replied, taking the photo to tuck into his folder, turning around. Alfred's jaw had dropped. He didn't just.. He just insulted him! Not that Arthur seemed to care. Waving a hand, he didn't turn back around. "I will see you around.. Alfred."

"Hey wait, don't you-!"

Arthur simply walked away, and Alfred slumped down into his chair. Was Comet really coming across that way in his actions? Was he really doing something wrong.. ? It's not like Arthur had a clue what he was talking about. Alfred was a hero, he was doing everything just fine!

Frowning a little to himself, Alfred turned around in his chair, looking over the older clippings of Nightsteed around the small space that no longer had a photograph there. What did Nightsteed have that Comet didn't, anyway? He was scrawny in comparison to a super strength hero like Comet. Nightsteed just did that.. That freaky voodoo whatever-you-call-it. Alfred nodded, staring into those hypnotising green eyes. For the first time, they seemed incredibly familiar..

Alfred sighed, running a hand through his hair as he picked up some of the papers on his desk, thinking that this topic would be better to think of when he was on call as Comet. It was only when he began to read through another proglogue written to him that Alfred noticed something curious.

Arthur had the same English accent as Nightsteed.

[ A/N: aaaah this is going to be my first multichapter fic.. ! i'm pretty excited to write it, i adore this sortof fic so i thought i'd give it a go even though it's probably been done to death.. ahahah..

i hope somebody likes it at least ;_; ]