A/N: Alright! So this is my first attempt at a new fic, read, review and enjoy!
I don't own Hetalia
Alfred F. Jones was no stranger to the city. He was born and raised in Boston, Massachusetts, so New York was only a small step up the ladder, as far as that goes. He was used to the ever-present thick haze that polluted the air and hung low in thick clouds, to the people pushing by, yelling into their headsets and shooting dirty looks at everyone they encountered. He was used to the smell of food carts lingering in the air, the heat from the warm pretzel and hot dog carts enveloping whomever walked by for a few moments, to the short, shady looking men with beady eyes calling out to passerby, pushing their questionable goods. That was all old hat to him.
What was new was the city itself, and it's vastness. It seemed to go on for miles, skyscraper after skyscraper standing tall and proud, all in lines and towering over everything. New York had this intimidation factor that Boston didn't, this…aggressive quality. Everything moved so quickly, and it would move at the same pace it was going at, whether or not you were willing to catch up to it. Like a train, you're late you miss it. You blink, you miss New York.
Alfred tried to keep the 'kid in a candy store' look to a minimum as he adjusted his navy tie, checking to make sure his honey-colored hair was sitting on his head correctly in the thick glass doors of the building before gripping the large metal handle and tugging.
The heavy door swung open to a bustling lobby. Business men and women importantly stalked around the large room, feet scuffling against the tan marble flooring. A large, curved desk was strategically placed halfway across the room, right in between the door and the four sets of elevators.
Alfred breathed in and out once, quietly making his way to the desk and clearing his throat to announce his presence. The lady sitting at the desk had dark, smooth skin and chocolate eyes. Her long, hot pink nails were busy clacking away against the old decaying keyboard attached to a large monitor. She made no sign that she acknowledged Alfred's presence. Alfred rolled his cerulean eyes and coughed again, this time louder. The clacking stopped and the woman whipped her head towards the tall man, her curly brown hair bouncing against her neck.
"Can I help you?" She asked, both her voice and continence displaying attitude.
"Yes ma'am, well, you see I'm looking for Mr. Kiku's-" Alfred began, checking the gold watch on his wrist and going to dig out the room address he had written down on a sticky note somewhere.
"Third floor, room 205." The woman said blandly, going back to whatever was on her computer. Alfred thanked her nonetheless and followed a herd of people to the large gold elevator doors. A short wait and a ding later, the doors opened.
"And this, Mr. Jones, is your personal assistant, Ms. Bonnefoy." Mr. Kiku introduced the two blonds, and the pair shook hands.
"It's a pleasure." He said, flashing her a warm smile and trying to size the woman up. She looked friendly enough, wavy blond hair pulled back into a bun, rouged lips, fitted pencil skirt that hugged her thighs, a simple scoop necked shirt with a ruffled bottom that fit over the top of her skirt, black patent leather pumps…very New York woman-esque. He'd expect nothing less. She seemed to be doing the same thing, he watched as her clear blue eyes took in his navy suit, gaze grazing him from head to toe.
"The pleasure's all mine, Mr. Jones." She replied, her smile fading into a more genuine one. Alfred nodded politely and followed Mr. Kiku into his new office.
It was roomy, the entire left wall made of windows overlooking Brooklyn. A large glass desk, which was curvy and very…art deco, in Al's opinion, sat towards the corner of the room, empty of any supplies besides a gray phone and two wire trays, which Al assumed were for incoming and outgoing mail. He smiled wide and placed his leather briefcase on the desk, walking around it and sitting in the black swiveling chair perched behind the-his desk.
"Thank you Mr. Kiku…I love it!" He said, trying to keep a professional look of disinterest on his face, failing miserably. His eyes were gleaming and a grin was tugging at his lips. Mr. Kiku smiled and bowed a little, his black bangs falling into his dark eyes.
"I'm glad you like it, Mr. Jones. I'll give you the rest of the day to set up your office and get settled in, and then tomorrow you'll start on your first assignment." He said, turning and leaving the room.
Al finally let the grin break through and he quickly began unpacking his briefcase. He pulled out various files and his laptop which he quickly set up, finally pulling out a small picture frame, which contained a picture of a woman.
The woman was sitting up straight, a small, proud smile gracing her lips. Silver framed glasses sat atop her pert nose, aiding her bright green eyes. She had long, straight blond hair that was pulled back in a bun. Her name was Alice, Alice Kirkland.
'Soon to be Jones.' Alfred thought giddily as he placed the picture on the corner of his desk.
Alice and Alfred had been dating since Al's third year in college. He had gone to Oxford, and once given the job opportunity to work in NYC, jumped at it, leaving his girlfriend behind in the United Kingdom. Soon though, she would visit Alfred to check up on him and spend some time with him. That also meant that Soon, Alfred would propose.
He sighed at the thought; nothing would bring him more joy then spending the rest of his life with Alice, his one and only.
He shook her out of his mind for the moment, finishing up a few emails and setting up his office. He hadn't been there long, but New York was already comfortably becoming home.
What did you guys think? Should I continue?
