AN: So here is a gift for the ever-amazing Lokiescape. She wanted a mafia-esque fic, so being the history-junkie I am, I am doing the age of mafias: The Prohibition. Also, I decided to try something other than first person, my safe haven in regards to writing. I will be working on this nonstop until finished, so expect somewhat weird updates, but I will immediately return to Appear after this.
"It had to be you" by Frank Sinatra is a sexy song, by the way.
So here we are, enjoy!~
November 28th, 1925
"This is a bad idea, Alfred, why are we wasting our time at a party," a heavily French-accented voice muttered, still loud enough to be heard over the trumpets. "We are supposed to be working, not take some stupid opportunity for you to meet a woman that will forget you in two days," he hissed. Alfred snickered and nudged his companion. They were standing near one of the walls of the large party room, beside some large potted plants. The warm lights filled the area, a stark contrast to the night time sky that was clearly displayed outside the entirely glass wall.
"We're here to enjoy ourselves and relax, Francis. No need to get your frilly pants in a bunch," Alfred said, holding a cigarette between his lips. It was unlit and tilted towards the black hat he so proudly, rather, vainly wore. Both men were dressed nicely, although there was a certain air of calm and cool around the Frenchman, and a more excited feeling flittering around his companion.
"Enjoy ourselves? We have been standing here for the past twenty minutes as you stare at whomever that man is," Francis said, irate, as he pointed to a section of the large room. There was a group of about seven well-dressed men and women, one in particular was smirking, but never laughing like everyone else was. Alfred grinned as he resumed his watching of the man.
"Do you have any idea just whom that man is?" Alfred asked, his breath catching slightly in beat with the music. Francis swore under his breath and laid a hand on the grinning American's soldier.
"Obviously someone you are investing too much interest in," the French voice replied.
"Well hey, what am I supposed t'do? Just waltz over there and engage in conversation?"
"It would be better than standing here."
"But I haven't seen him in ten years," Alfred replied, his smile softening slightly. Francis raised an eyebrow and walked in front Alfred, grabbing his shoulders.
"Ah... So he is an old friend of yours... Surely, it is not that hard to just go greet the man!"
"Not just any old friend... He was like a brother to me, Bonnefoy. And I cannot believe that he is here. In God damned Salt Lake City."
"Mon Dieu... Just go talk to him! Surely the head detective in the city is not intimidated by some old friend?"
"Not intimidated, Bonnefoy. Just what if he doesn't remember me and I make myself look like an idiot."
"You are already doing that, Alfred," he replied sing-song. Francis was now smirking with pocketed hands at how Alfred flustered slightly. "Oh look, he is walking away." Alfred pushed Francis out of the way so that he could see himself.
"Damn it," Alfred whined.
"Just go talk to him!"
"I can't, Francis," he whispered angrily.
"You better do it. What if he is leaving the party right now."
"I-I-"
"Hurry, my friend," Francis said casually, as if the whole situation was amusing rather than dire and worrying. Alfred inhaled quickly and scanned the room, quickly trying to pull an idea from that head everyone told him was either stupid or genius.
"Okay, okay, just play along with me for a moment. I have an idea," Alfred said, walking backwards and still maintaining eye contact with his coworker. The Frenchman raised an eyebrow in curiosity, Alfred just grinning around the cigarette. "Well what do you expect me to do, Bonnefoy?" he shouted, still walking backwards. "I mean we have to break sometime!" Alfred yelled again. Francis rolled his eyes and shook his head slightly. "I mean, it's not like we are going to just... bump into the most dangerous criminal in Salt Lake City in a matter of secon-" Alfred firmly walked into someone, raising the attention of a few people in the area he had wandered into. "Oh I am so sorry, sir," he said politely as he turned around. He remained calm and cool as he just grinned and held out a hand to the man he walked into. The other man was too busy with cleaning off whatever he had been drinking off his suit.
"Jesus, hadn't your mum taught you to walk with your eyes forward, chap? Be glad I am in a good mood, or else I would mak-" The moment he looked up to Alfred his winced and then gasped. "Jones, is that you, you fool?"
Alfred grinned and flashed a thumbs-up over his shoulder to Francis, who was chuckling. He looked back to the man in front of him.
"Well I'll be... If it ain't Arthur Kirkland!"
"Oh my God, this is incredible!" Arthur turned to the other people that were standing by him. "I think I shall excuse myself now, thank you for the conversation all of you," he said to them, and soon after they left with smiles and waves. He turned back to Alfred with a grin, Alfred noting how his suit looked entirely much more expensive than his own. "So what are you doing here, Alfred?"
"Ah, well, I am a high-ranking detective in these parts, and the bank invited me for a night away from my case," Alfred explained, a little too happily. Arthur nodded and set his glass down on a nearby table.
"I made contributions to several different charities, so I was invited." Alfred raised his eyebrows in shock.
"You make it sound like you're rich, Arthur," Alfred said, laughing at the end.
"I wouldn't say rich... But definitely not your average American either."
"Last I checked, you weren't American anyway." They both chuckled, Alfred glancing away for a moment to a different side of the room, to where an open door was letting cool air in. "Hey, care to go outside?" he offered. Arthur smiled.
"Sure thing," he replied, already walking towards the door. Alfred snickered and followed him. Before walking completely outside, he located Francis one last time and shot him a grin, causing the Frenchman to mutter an unheard swear. "So tell me, Alfred," Arthur said calmly as the other walked out. He was leaning over the stone railing of the patio that overlooked the garden, the wind blowing his short blonde hair slightly. "Just how long were you watching me from across the room?"
Alfred flushed and then laughed nervously. "You saw me watching you?" he asked as he walked beside the smaller man. Arthur glanced at him and pulled the still unlit cigarette out of the American's mouth.
"No, but do you not remember what happened that first time we met one another? Where our parents took us to a similar party, and told us that we were to be friends."
"Ahaha, ah yeah, and I was so angry about my friend having to be you, that I just watched you from the other side of the room with a pout." Arthur hummed and pulled out a lighter from his coat pocket.
"And I just waited, thinking you were the rudest brat I had ever encountered," Arthur muttered as he attempted to light the cigarette that was now in his mouth.
"Oh God... All the memories," Alfred mused. Arthur nodded in agreement, sucking in on the small paper roll. Alfred watched in mild awe as Arthur opened his mouth and began speaking, the smoke coming out in smooth pools with each word.
"So tell me, if you're such an important detective, what case are you working on right now?"
"Well you see..."
"Oh, is it secret and all that?" Arthur asked as he sucked in again, his eyes glimmering in the light that poured from the party room inside. Alfred snickered and leaned onto the railing, looking attentively at his friend's face.
"Kind of. Not really supposed to share much, just you can know that it is extremely dangerous," Alfred replied with a wink. He sighed and flung his head back for a moment. "Not that that really matters. Ain't got anyone to worry for me anyway. No parents or wife, ya'know?" Arthur hummed and inhaled a long drag.
"Well that's nonsense, you still have your brother right?"
Alfred laughed under his breath and flung himself forward, catching the green eye-contact. "Haven't contacted him in months, come to think of it. Thanks for reminding me I have that son of a gun to call. Although sometimes I think he hates me" Alfred replied with a bemused grin. Arthur smiled in return, pushing the cigarette into the stone railing. The music changed inside to a much more fast paced song, laughter still ringing out in a steady flow with only the sound of laughter penetrating the veil.
"No, my brothers hate me, Matthew is a good lad," Arthur said calmly as he flicked the butt into the shadowy garden. Alfred snorted as he rolled his eyes.
"So anyway, what exactly is your business that allows for you to be 'so damn lucky'?" Alfred asked earnestly.
"Well, after the Great War and your family returned to America, I befriended a bunch of other Europeans, and together we import and sell... European and Near Eastern goods. Our business is actually more successful than you would think."
"Oh, that's amazing! Do you have a central shop or someplace I could visit?"
"If I give you my address, promise not to visit after nine p.m.? The neighbors might start rumors, you know," Arthur joked, pulling out a pen and napkin from his coat pockets. Alfred burst into laughter and slapped the shorter man on the back.
"I'll visit when the wife and kids are home so as not to start anythin'."
"About that..." Arthur muttered while writing down the address and number to the store.
"Ah, lemme guess, you are a lonely man as well?"
"No, not lonely, just found no need to tie myself down to someone that would probably be out the door several months later."
"Oh, you honestly think that she'd divorce ya? Not that I disagree, just curious why you think that." Arthur laughed once through his nose and handed the napkin to the grinning Alfred.
"My lifestyle... is not honestly that well suited to a woman. Long times away from home, constant business interactions, nights out with my coworkers, you know."
"What about a man?" Alfred asked rhetorically.
"And that is why every single one of my coworkers is male. Women just could not handle it," Arthur said firmly as he tried cleaning his suit slightly.
"You make it sound like toting around rugs and vases is something only for the physically adept, old man," Alfred replied amusedly, stepping once towards the entrance back to the party room.
"No, more of a mental thing, but I won't bore you with it. And don't call me that. It was obnoxious a decade ago and still is now." Arthur walked up to the mischievously grinning American and stared straight at him. Although Alfred was grinning, half of his face illuminated in the orange light, Arthur was just staring with serious apathy.
They stayed like that for several seconds before Arthur cleared his throat. "Your tie is crooked," he said quickly, reaching up to fix said article. After tightening and straightening it, Arthur let his hands rest on the taller's chest.
"Thanks," Alfred said with a beaming, but gentle, grin. Arthur hummed and pat his hands once before nodding his head and taking a step into the room.
"Anytime... But, I was actually leaving right as you bumped into me, so I really need to leave now." Arthur's expression picked up slightly, hurting Alfred a little that he only perked up when he was leaving.
"Ah, right, sorry for keeping you," Alfred replied embarrassedly. "I will try visiting you when my schedule permits, I mean... That is why you- Ah, I forgot what I was even gonna say, so yeah your address-" Arthur snickered as an interruption.
"Just call me first, it will probably minimize... complications," Arthur said while removing his coat. He flung it over his arms and walked over to the table that had his drink from earlier. Alfred walked up to him, trying to make the most of the last few moments. Arthur downed his drink and grimaced. "Shame we have no alcohol..." he muttered, his expression showing rather blatant irritation. Alfred clapped a hand on the other's shoulder and laughed deeply.
"You don't need any of that anyway. I remember you getting drunk at the age of fifteen and it not being something worth repeating." Arthur's grimace intensified, but now his cheeks tinted red as well.
"I'm sure that farmer has forgiven me by now," he coughed out. Alfred's laughter just returned ten-fold.
"Well, can I accompany you to your car?"
"No, don't worry about me, just enjoy yourself, Alfred."
"Oh come on, Arthur, don't play that game. You know damn well I don't mind being polite occasionally," Alfred said. He was looming somewhat closely over the other, his blue eyes glinting behind their spectacles as the glasses trapped in some of the soft light. Arthur glanced to the side with a flush, but yet he still had his regular amused grin.
"Ah yes, you and your stupid hero ideals. But look, I really need to go, and I would prefer if you would just enjoy yourself, my lad."
Alfred shook his head with a smirk and stepped back once. "Alright, alright, I can take a hint; you wanna be alone. I just hope the rest of your night is good, old man." Arthur looked up to him with a soft expression.
"Enjoy yourself, Alfred," he said quietly. Soon after, he turned on his heels and began walking across the room, only looking up to return goodbyes to those that gave them to him. Alfred watched the white dress-shirt and suspenders move with celerity but still not lacking the rather effeminate grace that Arthur always seemed to possess.
Once he was out of sight, Alfred sighed and pulled out another cigarette. Once again, the item was left unlit and rather it just snugly bobbed between his thick lips.
"So how did you little re-acquaintance go?" a voice inquired right in Alfred's ear. Alfred jumped and turned around immediately.
"Jesus, Francis, don't sneak up like that."
"Pardon, I did not want to ruin the time between you and your special little friend." Alfred hummed and looked back in the direction of the hall that led from the room. "So answer my question. Are you two... brothers again?"
"Possibly," Alfred replied airily.
"Possibly?"
"I think this is something different now, Bonnefoy."
Francis groaned melodramatically and turned around. "Mon Dieu, always so damn vague-" The rest of the words were a stream of exasperated French, something that Alfred did not much care for.
After all, he had someone's number; someone that most definitely would not forget him in two days.