Author's note: I forgot to mention that because of when I was writing this, it may take place a little closer to the worst of the Great Recession/Financial Crisis etc. than the present. If Alfred's boss is only just now asking him to do damage control, he's a liiiiittle bit late (though then again, that might be exactly like them . . .). Sorry, short chapter.

Chapter 2

Alfred slept in until 12:30 in the afternoon. Arthur was sitting primly on the couch reading a newspaper when Alfred appeared at the bottom of the stairs. "I'm starving!" he said, smiling happily at Arthur. "What's for breakfast?"

"Bacon and eggs were for breakfast. It's past twelve."

"Yeah, sorry, your time change is messing me up."

"It's more your time change than it is mine," Arthur said crisply. "We're on Greenwich Mean Time here." Arthur decided not to mention that they actually weren't because it was summer, but he figured Alfred wouldn't think of that. Besides, an hour off hardly made any difference. Alfred still didn't have the right to be so dismissive about it.

Alfred ignored Arthur's bad mood and disappeared into the kitchen, whistling a cheerful tune. Arthur reluctantly followed him. He gave a half-hearted glare to the servant who was placing a heaping plate of bacon and eggs in front of Alfred. Luckily the servant didn't notice. Arthur sat down across from Alfred, finding it more difficult to be angry at Alfred than he had expected. With a slight sigh, he gave up and asked the servant for a small helping for himself.

"So, how have you been?" Alfred asked around a mouthful of food. "You never really said."

Arthur hesitated. He wasn't sure how disconnected Alfred was from what was going on in the rest of the world. "I'm . . . alright," he said carefully. "It is hard, though, trying to help some of the others who . . . aren't doing quite so well."

"I heard Greece went under."

"Yeah." Arthur looked at his plate as he took a bite.

"That's too bad."

"Yeah."

"What about the others?"

Arthur looked up and saw that Alfred's expression of concern. He put his fork down. "Most of them aren't doing well."

"Ah. That sucks." Alfred said it with feeling.

"Yes, it really does."

There was a moment of silence. Alfred looked out the window and chewed thoughtfully. "Hey, it's supposed to be summer here, right?"

"Yes," Arthur said dryly at Alfred's ability to switch topics without being apologetic in the slightest.

"Is it ever going to get sunny?"

"It will eventually," Arthur said dismissively. "If there's one thing to be said about my weather, it's that it gives you variety."

"Yeah," Alfred said, looking dubiously at the darkening clouds. "Man, this city must be empty. I bet everyone's on vacation."

"Alfred!" Arthur squawked and threw a buttered biscuit at him, which Alfred dodged. "I'll have you know my people like it here just as much as yours like the US!"

Alfred snorted. "Not all parts of the US. Have you ever been to Miami? People in the US go to another part of the US because I am awesome. I'm willing to bet we've got tons of your tourists."

Arthur huffed. "Perhaps my people have time to vacation, but I do not."

"Perhaps you should." Alfred grinned and sat up straighter. "You could come visit me! I've got tons of gorgeous beaches."

Arthur rolled his eyes, but he secretly felt please that Alfred wanted him to visit. "I have plenty of the ocean here, thank you."

"Yeah, whatever. The offer still stands." Alfred returned to his food in characteristic Alfred fashion. Arthur smiled a little and sipped at his third cup of tea that day. He would never take Alfred up on it, of course – but it was the thought that counted.

Arthur still had work to do, so he disappeared into his study and asked Alfred not to disturb him. He wasn't expecting Alfred to really respect his wishes, but for the most part, he did. Arthur did not see Alfred (though he could hear him) for at least an hour, and when Alfred opened his door (without knocking, of course), it was only to ask where he kept his TV since he couldn't find it. (This, of course, was because Alfred was an idiot, since he had assumed that Arthur had a flat-screen television. His telly, though small, was perfectly serviceable.) Even so, Arthur felt strange with Alfred in the house, as though something he couldn't quite place was nagging at him.

By dinner that night, Arthur realized that he didn't really know what to do with Alfred.

He was fairly certain that as a host, it was supposed to be somewhat his responsibility to keep Alfred entertained. However, Alfred seemed to resist all Arthur's attempts at doing so. Arthur had work to do, of course, but Alfred didn't, and Alfred didn't even seem to have much interest in leaving the house. When Arthur suggested that he go outside, he explained that he'd already done enough "tourist-y" things by himself, and that he would wait until Arthur had a break from work before going outside again. Arthur explained that Alfred would have to wait a long time in that case, but Alfred didn't seem to mind. He seemed perfectly content to simply sit around and read, or talk to the household staff, or play with his cat. Alfred didn't necessarily do these things as quietly as Arthur would have liked, but at least Alfred wasn't complaining or actively annoying him. It was too good to be true. Surely after another day or two of this Alfred was going to start bouncing off the walls.

Clearly, Arthur had a responsibility to do something with Alfred, even if it was just to keep his sanity intact for the days to follow.

Arthur was unusually quiet through dinner, his brows furrowed in thought, as he tried to find something for them to do together that would be as neutral as possible. Alfred prattled about the weather and the book he had read and didn't seem to notice. Alfred was in the middle of talking about his newest idea about how to save the environment when Arthur cleared his throat. "Er, yeah?" said Alfred, a little surprised.

"I was thinking," Arthur said, paying no heed to the fact that he had just interrupted Alfred, "That we should do something. I think . . . after dinner I will take some time off work."

Alfred looked at him curiously and then broke into a grin. "Whoa, Artie, don't hurt yourself there. That's a pretty dangerous idea."

Arthur turned pink and huffed. "I'm not going to do anything. I was thinking that you and I could . . . well, I don't know, do relaxing things together." Arthur was flushing a darker color than he would have liked. He had a strong desire to cover his face with his hands and groan. Was it so hard to suggest that he and Alfred simply spend time together?

Alfred laughed at him (oh yes, it was very much at him, Arthur knew) and then grinned. "Whatever you want. That's all I've been doing all day, anyway."

"Fine." Arthur cleared his throat self-consciously and stood. "Well, I'm going to start on the dishes, then."

"Righteo." Alfred enthusiastically reached for a second helping without bothering to look up at Arthur at all.

Sometime later, Alfred finished dinner and joined Arthur in the sitting room. Arthur was starting to wonder if he was going to regret attempting to relax with Alfred. He was pretty sure that past experimentation had provided pretty solid evidence that "Alfred" and "relaxing" were exclusive.

"What are you going to do, when you do this strange thing called 'relaxing'?" Alfred asked. "Sew?" There was definitely a certain amount of derision and fear in that one word that made Arthur turn pink with embarrassment.

He huffed. "Nonsense," he said, though that had been exactly what he had been planning on doing. "I'm going to read."

Alfred looked relieved. "Cool. Me too. I'm getting really sick of your TV."

Arthur bristled but let it slide. He stalked back upstairs, grabbed the book he was currently working his way through, and returned to the sitting room, where Alfred hadn't budged. Arthur opened his book to his place and started reading.

He heard Alfred clearing his throat and moving about in the armchair across from Arthur. There was a rustle as he turned a page, the sound of him putting one leg over the other and then deciding it should really be the other way around, and then deciding he had had it right the first time, and a slight cough. It wasn't until Alfred finally settled down that Arthur was able to get past the first paragraph. Then, unfortunately, he started thinking.

So Alfred was staying with him. He made a little clucking noise with his tongue. It was an inconvenience, really, but he seemed to keep forgetting about that part. It was so easy to have Alfred around. It wasn't as if it was really anything new; Alfred "crashed" at his place every time Arthur hosted anything. However, he was unused to Alfred simply lazing about for no apparent reason. It was almost as if Alfred wanted to be here, which was nearly too strange to contemplate. He frowned a little and clucked his tongue again; "Tsk." Not to say he minded; oh no. He loved having Alfred, around actually – which was half the problem. He would have happily abandoned all his work to just spend time with Alfred. If Alfred wanted to spend time with him . . . Well, there simply had to be another explanation. It obviously wasn't the reason Alfred had given him (as much as it was like Alfred to procrastinate on work) because if it were, Alfred would have given some indication that he wasn't just there to . . . well, just be there. Clearly, Arthur was missing something. "Tsk." Alfred always had caused him problems.

Alfred cleared his throat noticeably. Arthur glanced up. Alfred was giving him a pointed look. "That book pissing you off?"

"Pardon?"

"You keep . . . 'tsk-ing' at it."

Arthur stared at him for a moment before he realized that Alfred was right. He blushed and cleared his throat hastily. "Oh, yes. Sorry. I'll stop."

"Uh, okay." Alfred gave him one last wary look and returned to his own book.

Maybe Alfred really was just being his usual irritating self. After all, today he had been acting normal . . . for the most part. As much as Arthur hated to admit it (he should be grateful for the peace and quiet, after all), it worried him that Alfred hadn't been annoying all day. Alfred was annoying when he was energetic, and if he wasn't energetic then something was seriously wrong. Arthur frowned. The day before, Alfred had been even calmer. Something was wrong, and Arthur had no idea what it was. "Tsk."

Alfred slammed his book shut, making Arthur jump. "Arthur."

Arthur scowled at him. "Yes."

"You're doing it again." Alfred pointed at him. "You're frowning and doing your little 'tsk' thing, and it's not like I was paying attention or anything, but I don't think you've turned the page for the last ten minutes."

"And how fast should I be turning the page?" Arthur snapped. He hated being caught like that.

"Well, you usually read two pages of a hardcover like that in under two minutes, tops–" Alfred stopped talking, but his eyes were wide and his mouth was still open like a fish. He abruptly closed it and looked wildly around the room. Arthur wasn't sure who was more stunned – him, that Alfred actually paid attention to such a minute detail, or Alfred, that he had actually said that. There was a moment of awkward silence.

Arthur cleared his throat and turned back to his book to hide the slight blush on his cheeks. "Well. I think I will get back to reading, then."

"Er, yeah," Alfred said, blushing slightly, and hunched over his own book.

Oh, this was going to be a long – however long it was going to be.

Arthur was beginning to accept that Alfred would be on his late sleeping schedule for the remainder of his stay, so when he woke up the next morning he didn't even bother to wait around downstairs. He took tea and a scone in his study and worked. When he came downstairs at about 10, he was surprised to find Alfred already up. Alfred heard his footsteps on the stairs and looked over his shoulder from the couch, where he appeared to be reading. He grinned. "Hey."

"Good morning," Arthur said warily. "I already had breakfast, if you were waiting for me."

"I know," Alfred said cheerfully. "They told me. I had breakfast a while ago too."

"Alright," Arthur said. "I'll be in my study if you need me." He disappeared into the kitchen to get another cup of tea. When he came out, Alfred appeared to be intent on his book. Arthur sighed and decided it wasn't worth worrying about. If Alfred found some unexpected way to bother him, he would discover what it was soon enough. Until then, he would have some peace and quiet.

Several hours later, Alfred burst into Arthur's study. Arthur looked up, a frown still fixed on his face. Alfred was grinning. "What are you still doing up here? It's lunchtime! The guys downstairs have made some really cool-looking sandwiches for us and they're all set out on silver platters and stuff. They even rang a little bell to let you know it was lunchtime."

Arthur's frown, which had been starting to lift, quickly returned to his face. "Yes, I know, I heard them. I'll come downstairs when I've finished with this report."

Alfred put a hand on Arthur's desk and leaned down to look him in the eyes. "Come on, it's time for a break. You've been working away for hours. Besides, I'm starving."

"And which of those is more important?" Arthur muttered, but he set down his pen and stood up. Alfred strode happily out of the door and waited for him in the hall.

"Hey, I wanna go to the beach tomorrow. Do you have any important meetings you can't cancel?" asked Alfred over his shoulder as he led the way down the stairs.

Arthur's eyebrows raised in surprise and he blinked. "Er, I don't think so."

"Awesome. I'm gonna kidnap you at like, noon tomorrow, okay?"

Arthur barely suppressed a smile. "It's hardly kidnapping me if you let me know beforehand."

Alfred grinned. "It still counts. I figure we can leave in the early afternoon. We'll have to bring folding chairs and stuff. You have some, right?" Alfred looked over his shoulder again and Arthur gave him a blank look. Chairs? Whatever for? "You know, lounge chairs to watch the ocean from."

Arthur raised an eyebrow. "Are you sure you want to be sitting on the beach? It's not exactly warm out."

"Come on, it's summer! Anyway, it's supposed to be sunny, maybe, so that's good enough. Do you know of a beach near here we can go to?"

"Yes, I suppose. I can drive us there in a little over an hour."

"Sounds good."

Arthur felt his heart swell, just a little, at how happy Alfred looked right then. "The beach. I haven't been there in a long time."

Routine. Arthur had almost forgotten what it was like. Alfred made it so easy to fall back into – though, was it really back? Arthur could hardly remember how they had done things back then. (A lie – he could remember it down to every detail if he thought about it.) Had they always had such relaxed dinners? He knew that meals together had been a necessity. Alfred had even joined him for teatime, sometimes –

Arthur cut his thoughts off before they could go too much further. That was too long ago. This dinner was now, and this was how their relationship was, and this was what Alfred was like. Everything else didn't matter. If he forgot about it, like they pretended to, all that history didn't matter.

3000 miles. He could remember when it had taken months to sail that distance, and how he had done it every time for love – even at the last, when he knew Alfred would not be waiting for him with open arms, but with a musket and a bayonet.

They talked over dinner about all kinds of things, with the kind of easy conversation that flowed when they were both in a good mood. It was as though they had both forgotten that their history had ever happened, or that they had ever fought, or that their hearts had ever been damaged. The funny thing was, they had to put so much work into pretending they had forgotten, they had to remember every second of every day they were near each other, lest they slip and say the wrong thing.

They said their "goodnight"s with smiles. Neither of them slept well that night.