A/N: I very short Christmas fic. Partly inspired by the song "Christmas shoes", though only barely.
My name is Arthur Kirkland, but over the years I have made a nickname for myself every December as the "Scrooge". I have always been somewhat of a cynic, and the Christmas season never really held any appeal for me even as a child back in the country. Now that I had moved to London by myself, I really saw no point in making such a big fuss over such a silly date. But I did need to go to the stores and such to get the gifts made necessary by social obligation, and on that one fateful day I was in the long lines of the local store, awaiting my turn to check out. There were two young boys front of me, both around the same height with golden hair and when they turned slightly, I noticed their faces were almost identical. There were a few differences-one had eyes that were almost impossibly blue, and the other's eyes almost held a violet hue. The latter was much more frail looking, and I noticed the ratty state of their clothing and felt an unfamiliar pang in my heart at the sight. The blue eyed child held a box in his arms, looking at his twin (I assumed that was the case), and though they couldn't have been more than eight or nine I could see the worry in his eyes, the weariness that only an adult should have. The smaller was trembling a bit, when I looked closer, and he occasionally lifted his arm to cough into the sleeve in a way that was painful to hear. My stomach twisted at the sight of those two boys, looking so pitiful, and I looked ahead of them to see if they'd come with someone, but the people ahead of them were dark haired and couldn't possibly have had the two angels.
"Hold on, Mattie, we just have to pay for this and then we can head home. I told you not to come." The one with the blue eyes spoke in a soft voice, and the other just gave him a weak smile.
"Stop fretting, Al. A little trip to the store won't hurt me."
"But your cough is worse." The one he'd called Al replied, and his brother just flicked his nose as he coughed again.
"I told I'm fine, eh. Come on, it's our turn."
They walked up to the counter, barely high enough to hand over the small box that he had been holding. The lady behind the counter smiled down at them, ringing it up.
"That'll be six pounds."
"Six?" Al swallowed, glancing at Mattie as he dug into the pockets of his work coat, pulling out a one-pound bill, and then a large amount of change. The woman counted it, and then she sighed regretfully.
"You're still a whole two pounds short, lad."
"Wh-what?" The boy stared up at her, his big blue eyes wide and innocent, sending another pang through my heart as he dug through his pockets. He came up with nothing, and I could only watch as he started to tremble. "P-please, ma'am, we need that medication."
"I'm sorry, lad, but...there's nothing I can do."
Al swallowed, and then my heart melted as he nodded and his eyes watered as he grabbed onto his brother's arm.
"Th-thank you, ma'am...come on, Mattie, we-we should go home...I'm so sorry, I thought I finally had enough..."
The other boy just shook his head, smiling weakly.
"Al, don't cry...it's not your fault."
"Just a moment."
I even surprised myself when I spoke up, and I could see the young boys were most of all. I pulled my billfold from my coat pocket and took out the six pounds needed, scooping up the boy's money and handing it back to him before I turned back to the clerk.
"I'll pay for that."
She smiled warmly, nodding and accepting the money, cashing it into the register. The boy Al gaped at me, and then the tears flooded his eyes, pouring down his flushed face as a big smile spread on his face. He shocked me by throwing his arms around my legs, sniffling.
"Oh thank you, thank you, sir!" he let go again, looking back at his brother who also had tears in his eyes. "D'you hear that, Mattie? You can get the medicine, you'll be okay."
"Th-thank you, kind sir." he stammered, beaming up at me, and my heart skipped a beat at the sight. I cleared my throat, ears flushing from embarrassment, and I could hear several people behind me calling me things like a saint and a sweetheart. That didn't matter, though-what really mattered was the big smile on Al's face as he clutched the bag with his brother's medication.
"It's no trouble at all." I told him, and I found that I was smiling despite myself as the clerk rang up my own few items and I paid for them, taking the bag and turning to the boys who hadn't moved, Mattie now wiping at his brother's cheeks with his coat, laughing.
"You're such a crybaby, Al."
"S-sorry." The other boy sniffled, but he was smiling and when he noticed me again he almost started to bawl again. "I can't tell you how grateful we are, sir...I-I've been trying to collect money to get Mattie's medicine for weeks now, b-because he wasn't getting better, b-but now he can."
"As I told you before, it's no trouble at all. In fact, here." I set down the bag and pulled my wallet out again, taking out several notes and handing them to him. "Take this as well. Go buy yourselves some nice warm coats, and maybe a hot meal."
"S-sir!" Mattie squeaked, and Al stared at the notes in his hands with wide eyes.
"W-we can't accept this, sir!"
"Sure you can." I was still smiling, and I just picked up my bag again. "You two deserve to have it far more than I do. Now, where do you boys live?"
"Ah, a-at the shelter." Al's cheeks flushed a bit, and he squirmed uncomfortably. "Our parents aren't here anymore."
"Poor dears. Tell you what-I'll drive you back to my house for a warm meal, does that sound good to you?"
I didn't even know what possessed me to offer such a thing, and I don't think I ever will, but it was worth it to see those blue and violet eyes light up and twin grins flashing back at me.
"Oh, sir, you really mean it?"
"Of course." I nodded, looping the bag on my wrist and holding out my hands for them to take. Al did so right away, though Mattie (who seemed the more mature of the two) hesitated a moment, but then he did the same, and I led them out to my car.
"My name's Alfred, by the way." The blue eyed boy grinned. "And my brother is Matthew."
"Nice to meet the both of you." I said sincerely, smiling softly. "I'm Arthur Kirkland, but you can call me Arthur."
"Okay, Artie!"
"Ar-thur." I repeated, chuckling. I found the nickname didn't bother me as much I thought it would, though, and from that point on Alfred called me nothing else. We got back to my house where I sat them in front of the telly watching some Christmas special while I worked on supper. I burnt it, just like every single other time I tried to cook, but neither boy seemed to mind, and they both thanked me several times after, causing my ears and face to heat up again. After that they insisted I sit on the couch with them as yet another movie played on the telly, and pretty soon they had bother drifted off, Alfred's head resting on my lap as he clutched at my sweater tightly, Matthew leaning against my shoulder. I felt a warm smile light up on my face as I petted Alfred's hair gently, sighing to myself. I had no idea what I was going to do with the two young boys-I couldn't keep them here, my job as an editor didn't pay well enough, but the thought of sending the two back to a shelter almost broke my heart. I sighed, shutting off the movie and resting back against the back of the couch, closing my eyes and deciding to think on it in the morning.
Two days after Christmas, I received a letter in my inbox from the adoption agency, and I smiled as I brought it inside. Many people had commented on the fact that I had been in a chipper mood that was quite unusual for me, especially during this season, but I found that I didn't mind the change. I sat down at my kitchen table after shucking off my coat and scarf, opening the envelope to see a picture of the two boys holding onto the stuffed toys I had given them-Matthew a bear, Alfred a rabbit-and they had the biggest grins on their faces. There was a letter included, which read:
"Dear Mr. Kirkland;
Thank you for bringing Alfred and Matthew to us. There is a wonderful couple that has been looking to adopt twins, and we are hoping to get those two set up with them. Matthew has recovered almost completely, only a slight cough remaining, and the Doctor says that should go away within the next two days. The boys speak of you highly, and they have asked if they can visit, saying you're their "Angel with the big eyebrows"-it's rather adorable, really. If you don't mind, I'll mention it to their new guardians and perhaps you can set up some times to meet up.
Anyway, I just wanted to let you know, since you had asked to let you know they were safe, and to give you the picture we took of them. Thank you very much for what you have done, and I hope you had a happy Christmas.
Best regards, Francine Bonnefoy."
I looked at the picture again, and the smile on my face was probably rather ridiculous at that point, but I found I didn't mind at all. Alfred grinned right back at me from the picture, his blue eyes sparkling happily and his cheeks flushed from joy. I set the picture down again, smiling and closing my eyes. The couple days the twins had spent in my home had been some of the happiest of my life, and it was hard to believe what they had managed to do to me in barely 48 hours. I'll never regret paying for that medicine that day, or taking those wonderful children home. I don't think I'll ever regret it, even when I'm old and grey, even if they've forgotten all about me.
Eleven years later, and Alfred came to my house Christmas eve, now nineteen years and several inches taller. He just looked at me for a moment, and then without warning he leaned forward and kissed me, arms wrapping around me as he quite literally swept me off my feet. When we'd pulled apart he was grinning, a grin that hadn't lost its brilliance after all those years, and he said.
"Happy Christmas, my angel."
I flushed, but then I smiled right back and wrapped my arms around his neck, leaning in for another kiss, the first of many for years to come.
"Happy Christmas, Alfred."