A/N: Okay here's the next chapter. Hopefully you've guessed who the young man is :P
I've also been thinking about whether I should post it to the Hetalia LJ comm...Oh well! On to the story.
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No.
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This man standing before you is not FDR.
.
Nope.
Just someone who looks like him.
.
Yeah.
He wasn't the current President before you went to sleep...so how could he be now?
"Is something the matter? You're looking quite pale there dear..." he says, snapping you out of your thoughts. Realizing your lack of manners, you grab the outstretched hand and give it a firm shake.
"I'm alright."
Lie.
.
You feel like you're about to pass out.
.
"Sorry about that sir, just a little nervous. You know, first day jitters and the fact that I really admire you sir." you chuckle awkwardly.
All you receive is a blank stare from the two men in front of you. It then dawns on you that they have no idea what you're referring to.
"Because you know, being the leader of the free world is such a huge responsibility...and you seem to be doing well."
Shit.
Of course they don't know understand what you're saying. It hasn't happened yet. You hope they buy your lame explanation.
"Ah well I try my best," chuckles a flattered FDR before continuing. "Oh where are my manners, this man right here is-"
"ALFRED F. JONES MA'AM! NICE TO MEET YA!" says the overly ecstatic young man. He shakes your hand quickly and loosely, quite the opposite from the President's handshake.
You take a moment to really study his features. You see the sparkle in his eyes when he smiles, the radiating energy coming from him and movement of his cowlick. It's not long before you realize that you're outright staring at him. Letting go of his hand, you step back with your head hung down trying to hide your ever increasing blush. You've never met someone so friendly and someone so...different from you.
"Since the formalities have been conducted let's get down to business. From this day on, you'll be my personal aide." FDR says.
You look confused. Why would he need a personal aide..? Before you question your thought, you remember that he's confined to a wheelchair.
"Uh, yes sir." you say. So far you have no idea what's going on but you reluctantly take up the challenge. Who wouldn't want to work in the White House helping out the President?
"But there's something you mustn't let the nation see." he said in all seriousness, wheeling himself from under the desk to frontal view. "It will be your job to make sure no one outside this building knows of my disability."
You nod, feeling as though you should help him keep his secret whether or not you believe the people should know.
"When I am in this building, I would like you to help wheel me around and help me attend to the garden. If you have any questions, please ask me or Alfred here." he says smiling faintly.
"Oh! Uh I do have a few questions now that you mention it." you say, jumping at the chance for answers.
"Well, what's Alfred's job? ...I mean, not to sound rude, but what does he do...?" you ask curiously.
You're met with silence and the air seems to be getting tense.
"You see...Alfred here, he's...a very important asset to this nation." FDR tries to explain.
"Yeah! I, uh, fly fighter jets for the military! I'm really good at dogfights!" Alfred jumps in nervously.
All you can do is draw a blank stare at these two men. For now you accept his answer, believing it to be true.
"And, what year...is it?" you say, causing them in turn to draw blank stares.
.
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"Dearie, it's 1939..."
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A/N: Sorry if this chapter seems short! I thought this would be a good place to end this chapter.
Hopefully my wording doesn't confuse you. OTL Writing like this is harder than I expected but it's fun too!
Remember to leave a review~
Next chapter: A Special Relationship?
