Title: Twilight Smuggler
Rating: T
Pairing: Cowboy!America x Ex-Pirate!England
Axis Powers Hetalia does not belong to me.
The full moon above threw a ghostly white glow over the entire area, making the sand glisten as though it were housing diamonds. A small town lay below the clear sky, absorbing the soft light. The town was completely still. Nobody was foolish enough to wander around the desert at night, even in such a small area. Clunk. Clunk. Clunk. An old sheriff probably as old as his police station, walked across the deck of his aged police station. Ever since the place had begun taxing the alcohol, a group of ruffians had taken the liberty of smuggling it into the taverns and inns around town. The officer honestly did not agree with the tax, but it was law. And it was his job to enforce the laws. A soft breeze brushed against the aged man's face.
The sound of a coyote broke the silence of the night, followed quickly by another.
Blue eyes stared hard into the darkness, waiting for the signal to move. This was one of his biggest runs tonight, but he was a hero and heroes never failed! The blond wiped at his sweaty brow, readjusting his glasses after he accidentally bumped them. A coyote's howl pierced noiselessness of the midnight hours. That was the signal. The American quickly scrambled to his new position at an abandoned mine shaft. This is where the delivery was supposed to be.
A tall albino was ducking behind a metal cart, gesturing for the blond to join him.
"I heard that the sheriff got tipped off. God damn spies." The albino hissed. The American patted the German's-though he said he was Prussian for some odd reason-back reassuringly as he readjusted his hat. It wasn't like the sheriff could catch them. To be honest, most of the smugglers were young men and to be frank, the sheriff was way past his prime. There was absolutely no way he would be able to catch them even if he wanted to.
"Like, get over here guys! We have that stuff you, like, want." Came a soft whisper from behind the two men. They turned to see a man dressed in all black except for his boots, which were hot pink and had a white fur lining. "Like, the Spanish one said he totally needed you two because everything's, like, totally way heavier than he though. He sent this one to keep watch." The man brushed his blond hair from his face and led the two men past a brunette who was currently damning the Spaniard to hell.
"Amigos! We have a few barrels over there! Grab 'em quick!" a deeply tanned male instructed, his green eyes sparkling with adventure and adrenaline-the authorities cold show up any minute now. The Prussian and American followed the orders and followed the Spaniard a rundown tunnel.
"Awesome! Another success by us!" the blue eyed male laughed.
"Don't say that until we get to the crusader." The albino warned.
Gunshots.
"Damn…I knew they were coming." The Prussian groaned as he dropped his barrel off behind a tree.
"It was bound to happen eventually." The blond grinned, pulling his guns from their holster. The Prussian followed suit. He was ready for a fight. It was about time they got some action!
"Look, guys. The last thing we want is to be recognized. How about we just come back and pick up the barrels tomorrow?" green eyes were filled with concern and little bit of warning. It was true though. It was a small town and they would be recognized easily. Both men put up their weapons and followed the Spaniard. Alfred froze.
"Guys-we forgot about Romano…"
"Shit…" the Spaniard cursed as he sped in the direction of the gunshots. The albino and the blond quickly ran after him, taking out their guns again. Sure enough, Romano was cornered by a few thugs.
"So what're doing way out here at this time of night?" one of them asked.
"Shit! Can't a guy just go for a walk at night?! Dammit! You guys are annoying!" Romano spat, tears streaming down his pink face.
"What is there to possibly see at a mine shaft?"
"It has a nice view of the landscapes, dammit! I'm a painter! I need inspiration, bastards!"
"I don't really think you're out here looking for inspiration, kid." The leader of the thugs said, cracking his knuckles.
"Stay the hell away from me you bastard!" Romano screamed as the man stepped closer. Romano was up against the cliff wall; he had nowhere to run.
"I don't think I appreciate that kind of mouthing off directed at me." The man grinned as he pulled out a knife.
"Shit! Stay away from me with that!" Romano yelled. The knife was getting dangerously close to his face. Bang! The knife was shot out of the thug's hand as he cradled the bleeding appendage. Everyone looked up, seeing a silhouette of a man against the full moon.
"Excuse me, sirs. I think you're messing with the wrong people tonight." The blond grinned as he hopped down in front of Romano, followed by his companions. The American's blue eyes were flashing dangerously as he readjusted his cowboy hat cockily, poising one of his guns at the ready. "I think it'll be best if you just scamper away back to your hole and forget this whole thing."
"And just what the hell makes you think we will?" one of the thugs piped up. He had a large build and large ears to match. Romano was being comforted by the Spaniard, a stream of curses falling from the Italian's mouth and heavy tears falling from his face as he buried his face into the other man's chest.
"Because I'm Alfred F. Jones. That's why." The blue eyed blond said as he beamed at the gang, twirling his guns around his index fingers skillfully.
~*~*~*~*~
Arthur Kirkland breathed in the sweet smell of the ocean spray around him, the wind blowing his hair in random directions as is gently caressed his face. It reminded him of the days when he would sail the sea for weeks on end, attacking ships and taking anything of worth aboard with his own monster of a ship The Pride of Tortuga. He remembered the countless brawls he had gotten himself into, the countless bruises and scars he had gained from near death experiences, and the countless people he had met. The thrill of living the life of a pirate was most satisfying and exhilarating. The Brit stared at the open ocean, his entire self completely relaxed and at ease. This is where he belonged. But his pirate days were over now. He was now representing the country of England across the pond in America.
There was a large shipment of something top secret being hauled to America from England. Of course it was top secret. The government officials that were sending it over hadn't even told the prime minister what it was. Apparently it was so important that everybody had to wait until the unveiling of it in the American nation. Arthur just guessed it was some priceless piece of artwork that his home country was sending across the pond. Why Arthur needed to guard it was beyond him. Maybe it was a trick? Why couldn't the Brit just go back in time where he knew what every bit of anything that got on a boat was?
"Ugh…I hate sailing…I hate boats. Why did you force this upon me, mon ami?" the Frenchman sobbed, hanging over the side of the ship.
"What's the matter? A little seasick?" Arthur asked with false concern. Francis glared at him, his face slightly green. "Look! You should be happy! You're almost as green as the frog you are!" Arthur laughed. "And this wouldn't have happened if you kept your mouth shut about me having to go to America. But you just had to tease me."
"You have no humor!" Francis whined.
"I have humor. I happen to think this is very funny." The Brit said dryly, raising his impressive eyebrows. The conversation ended with that. Francis stumbled back inside to lie down on his bed. Arthur shook his head. They would be there soon enough and the Frenchman could get back to his annoying, perverted ways that annoyed the Englishman to no end.
~*~*~*~*~
Matthew nervously cleaned a glass and skimmed over the newspaper in front of him as he waited for his brother to return. Alfred had been gone three hours past when he said he would be here. Did the sheriff catch them? Were his brother and his friends currently sitting a rain cell and Matthew sat behind the counter of The Needy Crusader? The Canadian bit his lip. Alfred wouldn't get caught. He promised that he would come back to protect his baby brother from the horrors of drunks, though Matthew could take care of himself just fine. The curly haired blond put down the glass. Alfred would come back like he always did. The door creaked open and there stood a very happy American carrying two barrels followed by Gilbert, Antonio, and Romano.
"Al! I was so worried!" Matthew yelled as he ran to hug his brother.
"Of course you were. You're always worried." Alfred laughed, setting down the heavy cases.
"What took you so long?! You were supposed to be here three hours ago!" the Canadian sobbed.
"We had a bit of a run-in with these thugs and had to take care of them. Then we went back to get the poor abandoned barrels! We were going to wait, but we figured someone might take them if they saw them." Alfred rubbed at the back of his neck. "So what's that you're reading?" the American asked, picking up the newspaper that lay abandoned on the counter.
"There was something pretty interesting in there involving England…" Matthew started. Alfred shushed him.
"England Sends Top Secret Item to Coahoma, TX
Approximately three days ago, a ship left the country of England for America with a gift to our country. The item is being transported by train to Coahoma, TX and will be there in about two days. The gift is being transported by Arthur Kirkland, accompanied by his associate Francis Bonnefoy. The item in question is assumedly priceless but we are unsure what it could be and why it is going to Coahoma of all places in America. Officials are wondering if it has anything to do with the recent alcohol tax in Coahoma…"
"That's pretty interesting. Probably the biggest thing to happen since rodeo clowns." Alfred thought.
"Yeah, eh. I guess. Do you really think it will help with the tax?" the Canadian asked.
"I don't know. I doubt it. Why would England of all places help a little town like this one? I really don't think they care." Gilbert laughed.
"Who knows? It's not like I really care though. I'm not entirely sure how he would help. Unless he can get rid of Syndicate K entirely." Alfred laughed.
"Well…I think there is some way he can help…" Gilbert said, a smirk decorating his face. Matthew shuddered. He knew that smirk well. That smirk could only mean one thing. Gilbert had a dangerous plan in mind that he wanted everyone to go along with. Alfred grinned, his blue eyes shining.
"Let's hear it then."
~*~*~*~*~
The next morning, Arthur awoke on a rickety train, surprised that the loud thing hadn't galvanized him earlier. He lifted his head off of someone's shoulder.
"Good morning, sleeping beauty." Francis's voice asked.
"Oh shut up…" Arthur groaned as he rubbed his tired eyes. "How much longer until we're there? I can't stand being on this train much longer."
"We should be arriving in a few hours. The conductor took a short cut and cut our trip in half." Francis explained. Arthur resituated himself on the Frenchman's shoulder. "Are you feeling alright, mon ami?"
"I'm tired of this train. I'm tired of the hot temperatures. I'm tired of the desert. I'm tired of land…" Arthur grumbled.
"We'll be there soon enough." Francis smiled.
"You'll never talk about this to anybody." Arthur said. "Or I'll personally see to it that you won't have a single hair on your body."
"I swear I won't say anything." The Frenchman laughed.
~*~*~*~*~
"We're at an understanding, correct, Mr. Mayor? Da." The Russian asked as he smiled menacingly at the tied up man at his feet. The mayor nodded violently. "Good. I'm happy you understand what you are supposed to do in times like this. You are a very smart politician." Which was true. Many mayors before this one had been…dealt with accordingly.
The mayor squeezed his eyes shut. Why? Was all he could think. What did this group-whom called themselves Syndicate K-have to accomplish by taking over such a small government? The mayor didn't know. The only thing he knew is that if he didn't do what these people wanted, he would surely die.
"M-Mr. Braginsky. We have to get going. There is a very important m-meeting we must attend." A young brunette stammered, shaking so much that he looked fuzzy.
"Da? Okay, Toris. Thank you for reminding me. Goodbye, Mr. Mayor. I do hope you enforce those policies I suggested." The Russian laughed sinisterly as he led his companion out the door. The mayor let out a long sigh. His town was going to get even angrier. It was already bad with the smugglers. What else could they sneak in without hurting Syndicate K? The only reason the group was raising the tax was for money for themselves. They basically controlled all of the products that came in or out of the town. Without Syndicate K, the town would fail. With Syndicate K, the town would be put in debt and residents would leave, also bringing the town into failure. His town was doomed no matter what he did. He might as well as do the thing that was least life threatening, even if it turned his town against him.
~*~*~*~*~
The next day, the new policies were posted on every public door in town, and every person in town was outraged by its crazy regulations. Gilbert took the liberty of saying what was on everyone's mind.
"What the fuck is up with these damn control?! I think most of us are all a bit old for a curfew!" the Prussian yelled.
"Dammit! I can barely stay indoors for five minutes without that Spanish bastard attacking me!" Romano piped in.
"Alfred? You're a bit quiet…" Matthew asked. Alfred remained silent.
"I'm more concerned about that." Alfred said as he gestured to the paper underneath it. It was a poster addressing "the ruffian smugglers" that had been terrorizing this town's integrity and government. It was all bunch of fancy mumbo-jumbo that Alfred didn't quite understand, but one thing was clear. The town's security was going to be tightened by probably one thousand. The last line in particular was one of the only lines that Alfred understood. Anyone who is caught being, helping, or even associating with the smugglers would immediately be arrested and put under the mercy of Syndicate K.
"How much you wanna bet that Syndicate K is scared we're going to become thieves?" Gilbert laughed bitterly.
"I'm thinking a lot." Antonio replied.
"I'll bet you that "precious item" coming here is of great importance them." Alfred smirked, his blue eyes flashing knowingly.
"Sounds like it's time to go plan a scheme." Gilbert laughed.
Author's Notes:
Coahoma, TX is a real place. It has a population that doesn't even reach 1k. I wanted to use a real place.
Uhm…I wanted to write a cowboy!America and a gentleman-ex-pirate!England thing. Oh my~ corrupt government is corrupt! Oh no! Hopefully nobody's out of character too much. Idek. I really kinda like this so far. Hopefully you all do to!
Please read and review~