chapter 2! I'm loving writing this, honestly if only a few people ever read it, I wouldn't care because oh goodness it's fun! if you have any suggestions on how I can improve don't be shy to let me know ^.^ and of course I always love hearing if your enjoying it. tends to spur me on into writing more.

The tiny cafe was nearly empty as Arthur sat drinking his tea. His eyes scanned the surrounding out of habit, taking in details. Faded paint the colour of custard, the simple wooden tables, the displays of every colour and variety of pastry you could imagine… The security cameras, the back exit, and that one shifty looking drug dealer sitting by the door who trying to look casual as he waited for his supplier.

It was a comfortable atmosphere, light wordless music playing in the background, the smell of things baking wafting through. His fingers drummed pleasantly with the music as he simply existed in the space. Arthur enjoyed letting his mind go into autopilot, which for him was still much more vigilant than most, but less so than he usually was. he speculated as he sat, how lovely it would be if the cafe had outdoor seating, the autumn air would feel fantastic. He smiled easily at the thought.

Arthur lifted the blue tea cup to his lips again, breathing in the warm, comforting scent. he almost let out a sigh of enjoyment, but abruptly stopped, pulling himself out of a momentary blind spot. that would only tip the man behind the counter off that he was enjoying himself. That was something Arthur simply refused to do. he stole a sideways glance at the counter, catching blue eyes staring back at him kindly with a smile. he grumbled when he got a friendly half wave, looking pointedly away. His ears burned slightly as he set his cup down and rested his head on his hand. bloody frog.

He had been coming to the cafe a lot lately. It was hard to find a good cup of tea in this godforsaken town, and this was the only place that seemed to carry his favourite type. That was his reasoning, he insisted it was. It most certainly was not the tall blonde man behind the counter. Arthur felt no pull towards the sky blue eyes or the aristocratic features… none whatsoever! If anything he found him irritating, especially with that damn accent, slipping french words in here and there with his English or German. couldn't he simply stick to a language?

Arthur had first met Francis four weeks earlier. He had been strolling down the streets, there were no assignments for him lately and he was bored out of his mind when a downpour hit. he ducked into the tiny Cafe merely to escape getting his suit completely soaked. "bloody hell! that came out of no where." he muttered to himself as he shrugged the coat of his suit off, shaking water off it. He examined the pinstriped vest that had been partially exposed "dammit …" he muttered angrily, it too was wet. he moved towards a table, hanging his jacket on an empty chair, his fingers moving to the buttons of the vest. be paused mid removal when he felt the eyes on him. Arthur's head snapped over towards the counter.

Francis had been watching with mild amusement "no no, don't stop on my account." His head rested in his hands, elbows on the counter "though I will have to insist the pants stay on, this is a family establishment." the amused look turned to a small playful smirk "unless you'd like to come into the back of course" The man gave a wink and Arthur's ears burned bright red.

"w-what?! e-excuse me- as if I would- h-how dare you insinua- I just- I dont-" Breath! he instructed himself silently as he felt his cheeks getting hot at his own flustered feelings.

He man behind the counter chuckled and waved a dismissive hand "No need to get upset mon ami, I was merely teasing. Here, let me get you a coffee to make up for it oui?" he moved to grab a cup.

Arthur pursed his lips and look to the side resisting the urge to shout that he most certainly was not the blonde friend. but for some reason, he couldn't bring himself to shoot the man down in that way. a hot beverage sounded good anyway "I prefer tea if you have it. earl grey."

Francis smiled kindly and nodded "Of course."

Arthur sat at the table after hanging his vest similarly to dry. It was only a few moments later Francis had appeared by his side, placing the tea, and a small plate with an orange macaroon in front of him. "there you are. I hope you enjoy it Mr…." he trailed off in question.

"Kirkland" The brit answered almost too quickly his ears glowing again. he quickly grabbed the cup and took a sip of the scalding liquid to hide his face, wincing slightly as his tongue was burnt.

"well, it's nice to meet you Mr. Kirkland, My name is Francis, If you need anything else, I'll just be over there" He gave a warm, charming smile

"Thank you" he muttered into his cup, he cast his eyes down, face contorting into seriousness. He tried to focus on watching the rain outside, but frustratingly found his eyes kept wandering back towards Francis.

.

He had come in almost every day after that. Always ordering the same thing, a simple cup of earl grey tea and a macaroon. As much as he hated to admit it, the french pastry was delicious. Besides, they didn't have scones. He had asked and received a look of confusion and slight horror.

The two had fallen into a pattern, Arthur would come in and sit down. Francis would bring him his order and inevitably make a comment that would cause the Brit to go red. Arthur would bite back with a witty comeback as best he could. Sometimes this dissolved into debate (such as the great debate about scones as a viable food option.) other times it was left with a friendly smile and, not that Arthur would admit it, a not entirely unpleasant fluttering in his stomach . He would pay his bill, one last exchange of comments, and leave until the next afternoon.

This day was the same as any other. He picked up his tea cup, drinking the last dregs of the beverage, and popped the last of the pastry into his mouth. He walked to the counter, and passed the money to the girl who worked there part time, bidding her farewell as he turned to leave. No he most certainly did not feel any sort of disappointment at not being able to say goodbye to that wine guzzler. Nor did his heart jump when he heard the tinkle of the shops bell accompanied by familiar footfalls fallowing him down the street.

"Monsieur Kirkland!" Francis called. Arthur turned, eyebrows furrowed in confusion as he watched the blonde jog towards him with a brown paper bag in hand. "Ah! I'm so glad I caught you! here."

"I didn't order any…" Arthur said unsure taking the bag and regarding it as if it might bite.

"ah, yes I know… " Francis gave a nervous chuckle Arthur's eyes went up and his brows raised in confusion at the slight pink across the Frenchman's cheeks. "you had mentioned you liked these… I thought maybe I could try and add them to the menu… but I wanted you to try them first so…"

Arthur tilted his head then opened the bag, removing a still warm scone that was dotted with berries. he blushed. "oh… uhm thank you Francis… I'll give them a try and let you know then?"

"that would be fantastic Mr Kirkland" he said with another completely not knee weakening smile.

Arthur swallowed dryly, ears turning pink once more, "please, call me Arthur"