The first time Alfred F. Jones met Amelia Mary Earhart, he was, well..intrigued. She was just so /different/ from other women. They had met by pure chance at a bar, in Chicago. It was around nine o'clock PM, and he was just moving through the city out of boredom. Honestly he just didn't want to do his paper work, and couldn't stand sitting around and just looking at it. He continued to walk, tugging his jacket closer around himself before the sound of obnoxious laughs, and loud shouts coming from a small bar on the corner of the street, met his ears. Alfred's eyebrows shot up and he curiously jogged over to the bar, peaking inside.
Dozens of men were gathered around a small table, cheering and grinning madly, trading items, money. Upon further inspection, he realized what was going on. An arm wrestling match; but why was everyone so excited about it? Was it two celebrities going at it? Two rich folks trying to prove that they were better than one another? He stepped into the bar, nudging his way past people. He had to squirm in between to heavy set men, which yes, felt awkward as all hell while they breathed down his neck, laughed and drunk their beer. He stood on his toes, stiff as he tried to see through the crowd. Oh..well... What?
At the table sat a lean, strong young man. His muscles flexed as he leaned foreword, desperately trying to force his opponent's fist to the table. Across from him, the reason that everyone was raving about, was a young woman. She looked about seventeen, a young, pretty thing. Her hair brown hair was cropped up in an almost boyish style, a cocky grin on her face. Huh. A woman was actually not acting..well, womanly. This was certainly a sight to see. Alfred's eyes studied the lean woman, eyes widening when he realized that she was winning the arm wrestling match. With a turn of her head, the woman's deep eyes met Alfred's and then, a loud clapping noise. He blinked and looked away from her eyes, to her hand. She had won.
A chorus of loud shouts, curses and cheers was heard as men began giving money to the other's who had won out of the bets. The woman's grin grew and she laughed with the men, not taking any of the offered beer that they held out to her before she got on the table, speaking loudly. "Who wants to try next? Come on, boys! It's all for fun! No need to be bettin' your work pay, just play with me." Her eyes turned to Alfred again. "How about you?" The man at the table, realizing that this was his chance to escape humiliation, because the spot light was no longer on him, ran out of the bar.
Men of different heights, weights, ages, and colors turned to look at him. They all looked expectant, challenging him to try and beat the unbeatable woman. Alfred blushed a bit, smiling sheepishly as he moved foreword. "'Scuse me, miss, but I don't usually arm wrestle with women." The men all snickered and glanced between each other with looks that just screamed, 'The boy's gonna get his ass kicked.'
Amelia raised an eyebrow and hoped down from the table, moving foreword to meet him, chest to chest. "I ain't much of a lady, kiddo." Instead of being dressed in the common gown, she was dressed in slacks and a white button down with a black belt snug at her waist. "Come on, you aren't afraid, are ya?" She grinned again, trying to push him in to arm wrestle her. She hated being treated as if her being a woman made any difference for what she could, and couldn't do.. She would prove her strength; just because she was of the female sex did /not/ mean that she couldn't beat a man.
Alfred met her eyes again, before smiling faintly. "..I suppose one game wouldn't hurt, right?~" He shifted over to the table, plopping down as the bar men hollered and clapped, making bets again. Alfred's gaze slid over the woman again. She was pretty; had a nice figure, sharp cheek bones, beautiful eyes-...
"Hey, kid, yer starin'," Amelia blinked and watched him, smiling a bit when the blonde man flushed and sputtered. He was a bit cute.. The thoughts made her chuckle to herself before she sat down. A determined look came to her eyes and she set her elbow on the table. "Come on, then. Better not keep our audience waiting.~" She moved her hand foreword slightly, clamping their hands together.
Their eyes stayed locked as the match began; Alfred wasn't really trying, though. He was taking more observations, getting lost in his musings about her. She had a bit of a Bostonian accent, something that made him grin. His grip tightened slightly and he tilted his head a bit. "You're awfully strong, ya know. I'm surprised that half the men in here aren't afraid that you'll kick their asses."
Noting Alfred's relaxed posture, Amelia couldn't stop the slight pout that made her lower lip jut out. "I wouldn't be kickin' any ones ass, unless they did something foolish." She smiled a bit and tilted her head as well. "What's your name?" She applied more pressure against his arm, trying to take him down.
"Alfred Jones." His arm didn't waiver, neither did his grin. "And yours?"
"Amelia. Amelia Earhart, but you can call me Meeley.~" With a slight huff, she leaned foreword more, muttering to herself. "You're stronger than you look..."
Nodding, Alfred tried to memorize the name. 'Amelia.' It seemed to fit her well enough; a pretty name for a pretty girl. There was more than meets the eyes with her though, wasn't there? She seemed spunky, and confident. She wasn't afraid to be loud, and she certainly wasn't acting like one of those 'proper' women. He liked it, more than he'd probably ever admit. He grinned charmingly, still blushing faintly. "Nice to meet ya, Meeley.~" And with that, he stopped applying pressure against her arm; a loud 'clap' was heard, and the match was over.
A blink. Then another blink, and Amelia looked up at the man in confusion as he just gave up. She completely ignored the cheers of her name. "...Why did you do that?" Frowning at him, she ran her eyes over his face. Why would someone give up their pride in front of everyone, like that? Didn't he want to prove his strength?
Alfred shrugged and smiled lightly at her. "I dunno, I guess I just didn't wanna ruin your reputation.~" Al blushed when he realized that now they were holding hands, and he pulled his hand away after another moment. God, why was he blushing so much? It was just a woman. Just a pretty, unique, interesting woma- No. Stop thinking like that, she's one of your citizens. You can't think about her like that. Ever. It wouldn't work out, anyways.
Amelia blinked and smiled a bit before standing up with a fake huff. "Well, Mr. Jones, I do not appreciate you giving up like that, and I want a rematch. I must leave now, but I will be back here around noon tomorrow. Shall we have a rematch, then?"
Alfred blinked and raised an eyebrow. "Ah..sure. Tomorrow then." He stood up, clasping hands with the woman and gave a firm shake. "It's a date." He grinned slightly before pulling his hand away.
Oh God, she was actually blushing.. That certainly didn't make her look as tough as she wanted to look. Amelia cleared her throat and nodded, smiling faintly. "Yes, I suppose it is.." Scooping up her bag, she turned on her heel. "Good-bye for now, Alfred." She smiled to herself as she started out of the bar, men clearing out of her way.
"Bye, Amelia! Oh, and by the way, you can call me Al if you'd like." The young man smiled sheepishly at her, laughing lightly when she turned towards him, blushed a bit more, and nodded. Alfred watched her leave the bar before he quickly left himself. Amelia Earhart, huh...? Damn, he felt oddly giddy to see her the next day; tomorrow would certainly be interesting. He grinned to himself, whistling softly as he started towards his home.
(( I'm sorry if there are any mistakes. |D;; This was a very old fic that I started nearly a year ago, so I decided to see if anyone was interested in it. ))