A frustrated cry was heard throughout the Jones' household, startling both Alfred and yourself.

Too bad you were the cause of the noise.

You stood in the middle of your room with your head hung, your fingers prying desperately upon the buttons of your jeans. It was no use. They wouldn't button! Hell, they didn't even zip up for that matter.

Tears of frustration pricked at the corner of your eyes and you just about ripped the jeans off your body that very moment if it wasn't for Alfred's head popping in the room. Your American boyfriend, looking much like a child scared to ask a question, opened his mouth to speak but was caught off when a hairbrush was thrown his way.

Deeming it was safe after a long while, he cautiously walked into the room, very much aware that it was that lovely time of the month for you.

"Uh..Hey babe! What's the matter?"

You said nothing, instead you just plopped down on the bed in the middle of the room in a depressed manner. Pressing your face into the mattress, you began to speak. "My jeans don't fit me anymore."

Alfred ducked his head towards you in an attempt to hear some of your muffled words before sitting down beside you. He seemed confused at first before his expression simply dissolved into astonishment.

"I heard of chicks getting bloated when they're on their..." He paused, mumbling over menstruation by coughing into his hand. "But why do you get bloated?" He suddenly gasped as he made a startling realization. "Is all that bloating in your belly the blood that didn't come out yet?!"

You picked your head up just to stare at him. Instead of wasting your breath on explaining the whole process of menstrual bloating, you simply just shook your head.

His shoulders slumped a bit and he began to ponder something. "So..You're upset that your jeans don't fit you, right?"

You nodded your head, slowly pushing yourself into a sitting position.

He began to look excited and quickly hopped off the bed, crouching down beside the night table and opened up the drawer. Stuffing his hand inside for a while, he finally pulled out a package as if it was treasure and stood up. Presenting it to you, he seemed so proud but you weren't sure why.

"What is it?" you questioned, taking the unopened package in your hands.

"The Perfect Fit Button!" he exclaimed, as if it was common knowledge. "You know, they sell it on T.V."

"The Perfect Fit Button?" you murmured, testing out the name on your tongue. "I don't..What's this for?"

He seemed exasperated, clearly impatient that you weren't catching on. He turned the package in your hands to the back so you could see the pictures and instructions. "You attach the button to your jeans to give them a perfect fit that's just right for you, and you can wear your jeans again!"

You blinked as it was now your turn to be astonished.

Opening the package, you carefully extracted one of the buttons and focused intently as you got the hang of attaching the button to your jeans. After clipping the front and back button together, you swallowed slightly and tried to zip up your jeans.

It worked!

Your fingers effortlessly buttoned your jeans together and you found yourself gazing at Alfred with such wonderment, he probably felt like the president.

"Alfred, this is amazing!"

He gave a cheeky grin, shrugging his shoulders as if it was nothing. "Yeah, I know. Plus, once you're done being bloated, you can just go back to using your old button!"

Your eyes rose towards your hairline. He was definitely smarter than he looked. You wrapped your arms around his middle in gratitude. "Why'd you buy those buttons in the first place?"

He gave a somewhat nervous chuckle. "I just thought they'd be a good idea to buy. If I ever went a little too wild at McDonald's, at least I could still wear my favorite pair of pants!"

So that's how he's been wearing the same pants for two years without having to get bigger sizes after eating all that fast food..

Typical.

Oh well, why complain? He helped you out in the end and that's all that matters.

"Thanks, Al."