Chapter 3

After Arthur had fallen asleep, Alfred had taken the very rarely-presented opportunity to get a bit closer to the Brit and had wriggled his way onto the sofa next to him. Before he'd even had a chance to figure out what he'd do next, the sleeping nation had curled into the warm body as though it was a pillow and had left Alfred with no option other than to stay where he was, a dozing Arthur now resting his head on his lap, and internally planning his next move.

Obviously, a pretty big priority was to make Arthur's Christmas as awesome as possible, even with the little problem he had at the moment, and he was under no doubt that being the amazing person he was, he could totally make it one of Arthur's best Christmas' ever. Then maybe, awed by Alfred's awesomeness, Arthur would save him the stress of being the first to break and admit that he was head over heels for the older man, although if the last seventy or so years were anything to go by, he was so dense this was as likely to happen as France giving up sex.

So wrapped up in his thoughts, Alfred only realised how much time had passed when he'd opened his eyes and greeted a distinctly out fire. Figuring that he'd been more tired than expected (and the warm, purring body on his lap was remarkably soothing) a glance at his watch confirmed that several hours had passed. Arthur was still fast asleep and the room was still comfortably warm, although he knew that sooner or later the cold would start to seep in and he'd have to stoke the fire back into life. They were almost out of matches too, so a visit to a shop was certainly in order. However, as everything was alright for the moment he decided against disturbing Arthur and stayed where he was, watching Arthur's ears twitching sleepily and pondering.

It was weird just how dramatically the need to protect Arthur was flaring up within his heart. Don't get him wrong, the desire had always been there, and excessively so in the years since the World Wars (once they'd reconciled and their relationship could actually be called a relationship, as opposed to simmering hatred). It had been most glaring during World War 2 and the subsequent years, when a combination of the blitz and rationing had taken Arthur's normally slight and lithe body and left it frail to the point of emaciation. It had taken all of his willpower not to sweep the proud Brit into his arms and never let him go, but the old man was holding up on his own and would have slit his own throat before accepting that sort of treatment, especially from someone he had once raised. He still couldn't vocalise in words just how relieved he'd been once Germany had called off the aerial attacks, or when he himself had joined into the war efforts. He was pretty damn sure that if it had lasted much longer, Arthur would have not made it.

And then there were the years since. Of the handful of occasions during the Cold War when things had actually gotten physical between Ivan and himself, a majority of these were as a result of the imposing Russian directly or indirectly threatening the island nation. The slimy bastard could see exactly how much Arthur meant to him, and had exploited it to his heart's content. When Francis' approaches got too close for comfort, it was Alfred that had warned him to back off. When a tragic event had happened (Di's death had been a bad one), it was Alfred who was by his side to comfort him and make sure he didn't choke on his own vomit when he tried to drink the world away.

He wasn't sure if Arthur had noticed these things or placed any significance upon them, and had never brought up the matter because it was nicer to stay in his little safe bubble than open up the can of worms that admitting everything to Arthur's face would create.

It was odd to hold Arthur in his current state. As mentioned, he'd always been rather small and slight, especially in the last century or so. The rationing mindset had never really left him, so even in the more recent and prosperous times he'd never had much of a chance to regain the weight the wars had caused him to lose. But this new form somehow seemed to make him even more insubstantial than usual. Alfred's burning desire to encompass and protect the smaller nation was raging with even more ferocity than usual.

Was it some sort of placebo effect, or was he genuinely smaller now? As Alfred was puzzling over this, said nation began to stir, slowly rousing into wakefulness. Forcing heavy eyes open, it seemed to take a few moments for him to realise exactly what position the two of them were in and he flailed to his feet, dragging the blanket along with him and ending up in a tangled mess on the living room floor, tail twitching in annoyance. Once he'd managed to get his limbs to co-operate and untangled himself, he pointedly avoided looking at Alfred and made his way out of the room without meeting the larger nation's gaze.

Alfred could see that Arthur was feeling fairly embarrassed and awkward about waking up as he had, and decided for once in his life to read the atmosphere and not push the issue. He neko-fied country grumbled quietly under his breath, still refusing to meet Alfred's eyes, and stumbled into the kitchen on what was no doubt a quest for his morning cuppa. Alfred trailed behind, amused at Arthur's reaction. As Arthur flicked the kettle on, Alfred settled on one of the chairs facing him.

"Have a nice sleep?"

"Piss off," he grunted, tossing a teabag into the clean mug and adding the necessary amount of sugar that he needed to function.

"I've been thinking of what we're gonna do next."

"We're not going to do anything. I'm perfectly content to stay here until the spell wears off. You're welcome to bugger off back to your own country in the meantime." Alfred chuckled; he forgot how haughty Arthur could be if he woke up too quickly. He'd be better after a cup of tea.

"Anyways!" He ignored the mutterings that 'anyways' wasn't an actual word. "So first things first, we need to restock your decoration stash."

"Well I'm not coming with you, in case that wasn't already obvious." He scowled and turned to face Alfred. "A hat would cover the ears, but there's no way in hell that I could hide the tail. The bloody thing has a mind of it's own." Alfred pouted, but he'd expected the answer. Arthur wasn't the sort to go out and about when he didn't feel like doing so, and there was nothing at Alfred's disposal to bribe him with.

"Well, guess I'm on my own, then. Mind if I borrow the car?"

"Actually, I do." He added milk and took a sip, entire body relaxing into the warm beverage.

"That was once!" Arthur huffed, but gave in.

"Fine, as long as you remember to drive on the right side of the road this time."

The last time he'd forgotten he'd accidentally gone around a roundabout the wrong way and ended up with a tail of five police cars, so Alfred forgave Arthur for holding that one against him. So, after unpacking his suitcase from the night before (read: spread it across every available surface in the guest room) Alfred got himself cleaned and dressed, slurping a massive custom mug of coffee all the while, and then began the long trek into London.

~SR~

Despite the hardships economically the last few years, it was safe to say that Alfred still didn't have much of a concept of 'saving money'. Once he was in the city and buying, he went wild. Fortunately for Arthur, he was spending his own money for once and his little shopping spree wouldn't affect anyone other than himself. Alfred had never told Arthur that, every month or so, Tony would do something he totally knew nothing about and fiddle with the electronic data so 'going wild' was totally within his means. And cause he used it for heroic purposes (buying poor children toys, getting food for homeless people, saving Brits-in-distress at Christmas) it was totally justifiable!

Alfred hadn't bothered to write a list (although he'd scribbled 'matches' on his hand because it wasn't Christmas without a roaring fire and it was always the one thing he desperately needed that he'd inevitably forget) because Arthur had completely destroyed his entire stash of decorations, excluding some incredibly old and possibly antique ones that were, by this millennium, far too fragile to even think about using. As a result, Alfred decided to go all out and re-buy absolutely everything so that they could decorate Arthur's house properly. And whilst London didn't have quite as many fancy and crazy decorations that his own country produced, they honestly weren't far off.

To replace the Christmas lights he purchased basic multi-coloured fairy lights with various flashing settings, and then found some awesome lights shaped like mini Christmas trees and another set of flashing white and blue snowflakes. He fell in love with some snowman lights, too, but he figured that even in the rather mellow mood that Arthur was in at the moment, he would still object to them on the grounds that they were 'tacky'. Tinsel was, of course, a priority, so he chose every colour under the sun (holy crap, they even had red, white and blue!), including some pine-effect with bells and red ribbons hanging from it that he knew would look good on the living room mantelpiece.

After a small break at McDonalds' and several burgers that didn't even have time to touch the side of his mouth before being swallowed whole (washed down by some spiffy festive cupcakes he'd bought from a nearby bakery and diet coke), he went hunting for decorational trinkets. Bearing in mind that Arthur was geared towards slightly more oldie looking things, he chose some fancy-looking candles with wreathes around their bases, along with some traditional baubles. Then he went to an incredibly expensive high street store and bought all of these amazingly detailed tree decorations, ranging from carousel horses to intricate snowflakes. He even managed to find one shaped like a teacup! He'd chuckled to himself whilst purchasing it, knowing that Arthur would adore it, even if he acted like he didn't.

Arthur was going to love him for this, he could tell. The awesome hero would save his Christmas, and then maybe he'd muster up enough nerve to try and move their relationship forward from 'just friends with awkward moments and UST' to full on 'lovers'.

All in all, his little trip into the city took the best part of the morning and dawdled on into the early afternoon. He spent as much time in traffic as he did actually shopping and finally pulled into the drive of Arthur's country house at around 3 in the afternoon. Dumping bags and bags of Christmas-related stuff on the expansive Christmas table to in front of an astounded Arthur, he helped with the initial unpacking and between the pair of them they started to make the house look a little bit more festive.

After about another hour of this (whereupon the house looked like a tinsel bomb had exploded, much to Alfred's delight and Arthur's chagrin) Arthur started to look dozy and ended up dropping to sleep on the sofa halfway through Alfred stringing up lights over the fireplace. Deciding against waking up Arthur during his catnap, Alfred left a note on the table, nabbed an axe out of the wood shed and wondered off into the nearby forest in search of a good sized Christmas tree. He knew there was probably some law against chopping trees down without permission, but he'd looked at some on sale in a garden centre and they were an absolute rip off! Tiny, spindly things that looked like they'd cave if you put more than a dozen baubles on them, and he couldn't be having with that.

It took a couple of hours to find something that looked appropriate, although it only took the superpower a couple of strokes to down it and one arm to lift it over his shoulder and start dragging it back to the house. It was getting properly dark, the winter nights drawing in so that the sun had set some time before. The air was crisp and there was a cold bite to the wind and there was a smell in the air that Alfred vaguely associated with snow, although he wasn't sure whether anything would actually fall. England as a country didn't tend to get sincere snowfall until January/February, so only time would tell. A white Christmas would be amazing, though, he thought to himself. It would just bring everything together.

Once he got back he shunted the door open with his shoulder and dragged the tree into the hallway, calling Arthur to come and lend a hand manoeuvring it into the living room. When he got no response he sighed to himself and dropped the pine, sprinkling needles all over the carpet, and sauntered into the living room fully prepared to rudely drag Arthur from his rest. However, Arthur wasn't on the sofa any more. Perplexed, he poked his head into the kitchen and didn't see him there either. Calling to no response, he checked every room, but there was no sign of the diminutive Englishman and no note left to explain why he would not be there.

Arthur was gone.

AN: Yay, another chapter! And it's almost Christmas, too ;) I'm in a very cat-related mood at the moment, because my Mum breeds bengal cats and has just decided to keep an adorable rosetted boy from our latest litter. He's absolutely heart-meltingly cute!

I hope you're all enjoying this and as usual, if you are please tell me! I love getting reviews :)