A/N: Here's a flashback chapter~


"Is it really okay for me to have this?" she asked.

"Of course, I did buy it for you after all," he said with a grin

"Oh my gosh! Thank you so much! She yelled with delight.

He then got down on one knee and her eyes went wide. He held her left hand where a new diamond ring sat gingerly on her finger.

"Will you marry me?"


Arthur awoke to the annoying sound of smoke alarms. Someone burnt something or started a fire somewhere. There was always that one person who wanted to make things annoying for everyone else. He groaned and stuffed his face into the very flat pillow. That didn't really provide much sound insulation. "I hate it here,"

"I'm sure everyone hates it here too mon ami."

Arthur took the pillow off his face in surprise. "I wasn't aware I had company," he said, sitting up. "Oui, you do now," the other man in the room said. "Francis Bonnefoy. Pleasure to meet you..." he trailed off waiting to hear Arthur's name. "Arthur Kirkland," he said with a huff.

"You're quite the morning person," Francis said with a hint of sarcasm.

"Shut up," Arthur said, throwing the pillow at him.

"I'm only joking with you, you know," Francis said with a chuckle.

"Is it wrong for me that I just want to go home?" Arthur asked. Francis pursed his lips together for a moment in thought. "No? I'm sure everyone here wants to go home," he said. "I'm guessing you weren't fucking drafted?" Arthur retaliated. "Actually, considering that my country I'm from has been invaded, then yeah, I was drafted too," Francis replied, almost like he was actually attacking Arthur. "At least you're a pilot and not a foot soldier."

Arthur felt his fist curl up against the sheets in frustration. "The skies are just as bad as the ground. At least you know who your allies are," he said back. "All the planes look the same to you?" Francis asked. "Are you color blind?" he asked. "No, I'm not," Arthur answered, trying not to sound sarcastic. "They are all grey to me so... yeah..." he said, standing up.

"Understandable," Francis replied.

"Quite."


"Alright, well... I guess it can be done," Arthur said nervously, looking between a wrench and a plane engine.

"Great! Kirkland, we are counting on you!" the young mechanic said before running off.

"Dammit, I'm a pilot not an engineer," Arthur muttered, picking up the wrench. He looked down and saw a pair of work gloves. They were too big for him, but they would have to do. He didn't want to get oil on him.

"So you're fixing planes now?" a familiar sounding voice said from up above.

"Francis?" Arthur asked, looking up to see Francis sitting in the cockpit of a Lancaster. "I thought you were a foot soldier!"

"I am on most days," Francis replied climbing down from the tall airplane. "I was told to fix this up for you," he added tapping on the ladder he had climbed down.

"I'm piloting a Lancaster… You've got to be joking…" Arthur said, breathlessly. "I know you were flying spitfires," Francis said patting Arthur on the shoulder. "That engine there is for the plane, so fix it up well," he said pointing to it before going to climb the ladder again.

"Wait! I don't know how to fix an engine!" Arthur yelled, partly panicked and partly frustrated. "Are you serious now?" Francis asked, jumping off the ladder. He looked Arthur up and down.

"How old are you?" he asked.

"I'm twenty," Arthur replied.

"You got a girlfriend?"

"Actually," he began. "I'm engaged." He began to feel rather homesick at the thought.

"Oooh, what does she look like?" Francis asked, rather curiously.

Arthur reached into his pocket for his wallet. He opened it up and pulled a photograph of her and him together and showed Francis. He smiled. "You've got great taste," he said with a chuckle. Arthur blushed and put the photo back in his wallet rather rushed. Francis couldn't help but chuckle. "You really love her, don't you?" he asked, taking the wrench from Arthur.

"Of course I do! The idea of coming home to see her is what gets me through everyday!" he exclaimed.

Francis sighed. "Alright, you've been here for about two weeks, why don't you write to her?" he asked taking the wrench from him. Arthur opened his mouth to try and say something but Francis just pointed at the exit. "I've got this. That little kid should've known you wouldn't know how to fix an engine, you weren't trained to do it,"


Arthur picked up a pen. He then put it back down on the desk. "What am I supposed to write?" he asked the lined paper that sat nicely on the mahogany desk. After a while of sitting there staring at the paper, he started to doodle with the pen. At the same time, he was wracking his brain as to what he was going to write. He drew out a couple of things that he thought were wise to write. He drew his plane and a foggy sky, and remembered how terrifying it was up there. He could barely see what was in front of his own face. He shuddered a little. "God, i don't want to go back up there..." he muttered, scratching out the plane.

He then doodled a picture of him and his fiance in a heart. All he could possibly draw were stick figures, but to Arthur, this meant the world. He missed her so dearly.

He then took out another piece of paper from the desk and began to write
'To my dearest, Emily'


A/N: CHAPTER 2~ Okay... i know Fem!America's name is Amelia... but its really debatable between Emily AND Amelia. I just don't like the name Amelia for her, and i'm sorry. I just have had some really bad experiences with a few Amelias in the past. Surely you guys can understand.

Alrighty... It might be a little while before chapter three, but it would be like... a week or something. Nothing too extensive. I'm really enjoying writing this, and if my audience enjoys reading it, then i will be really quick to write more. Thank you~ Without you guys, I don't know what i would do~~

See you in the next chapter~