A/N: So, I've been having a bout with writer's block. But thanks to the darling Vampire Catfish1, I'm back. Seriously, they are my savior. I had an idea, but I wasn't sure on how to present it or go anywhere with it once I did. But they seriously saved my ass! (I'm an adult, I'm allowed to cuss and if you didn't like it you wouldn't be reading this.) So anyway, thanks for all the wonderful reviews and follows. You guys are great!
Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia or any of the millions of other things that I reference in here.
-Arthur's POV-
Somehow, I believe that Fate has made it to where Saturday and Sunday were completely skipped and I was deposited on my ass to Monday.. or at least it most certainly feels that way.
At the moment, I had parked my car in the parking garage to my building and was hurrying along to my office. I was twenty-two minutes late due to a wreck on the 35 and this frustrated me to no end. Stepping into the main lobby, I was greeting by a glow of warm lights and rich gold and maroons adorning the walls. The two security guards, Burt and Kyle, stood just inside the door and gave a nod of acknowledgement. They looked to be deep into some conversation as they glanced towards me, voices lowering slightly as if they were avoiding detection. Strange, but as two former SEALs, I suppose they don't enjoy being eavesdropped on. A nod on my behalf to the receptionist as I dashed towards the lift, pressing the dial to whisk me away to my office. Only a few moments of waiting brought me the lift and proceeding to step onto it, I was halted by a feminine voice shouting for me to hold the door. A young and petite female rushed forwards, strands of her mousy brown hair falling from her carefully styled bun as she dashed into the lift, sparing me a grin of thanks as she attempted to straighten her outfit. The grin, however, quickly faded as hazel eyes locked onto my face. A dusting of light pink spread over her nose and cheeks, pronouncing her freckles as her eyes immediately darted to everywhere, but me. I offered her a smile which turned into more a smirk and her blush deepened before a soft giggle erupted from her through. Curious.
The lift reached her floor and she stumbled out of the doors, almost as if there was a fire. Curiouser. Doors shutting once again, I was whisked away to my own floor on the sixth level. It seemed like the fates had some vendetta against me, for as I stepped from the lift, the incessant chatter that filled my office level immediately died down to a quiet hum of feigned productivity. Eyes glanced in my direction for brief moments before returning to their work or the person that they were speaking with. At this, a jolt of anxiety erupted through my spine and I felt my body prickle with the sense of impending alarm.
What the hell is going on?!
Rushing through the sparse desks, I quickly stepped into my office only to nearly collide with an immoveable object. Teetering backwards, my eyes automatically shut as I began to flail for something to grab when a large warm hand caught my waist, another catching one of my wrists. I slowly opened one eye and looked into the face of the last person that I wanted to see this morning.
I was drowning in a sea of blue. Blue eyes stared into green with a look of worry as the hands steadied me onto my feet, lingering for only a moment before quickly withdrawing themselves.
"Mr. Kirkland? Are you alright?" Alfred asked, eyes searching my pale face as if searching for an answer.
"Q-quite fine, I assure you." I stammered, held captive in those blue orbs. What the hell? Why the hell am I fucking stammering?
"Okay… well, I'm glad that you're here now. I was about to call you." At this Alfred took a step back from my person to flash me one of his winning smiles.
"Why on earth would you call me?"
"Because you were nearly thirty minutes late? You're never late Mr. Kirkland." At this, he turned and went back to the desk just outside of my inner office door, shuffling through a stack of papers before returning to me. Of course he would be concerned if his boss was late for work, wanker. He held out of a single crisp sheet of paper before pulling a small PDA from his pocket and scanned over it with those beautiful eyes. Quit thinking like that! "You have a meeting with Lovino Vargas in an hour concerning the expansion of the company, followed by a video conference with Yao Wang in China concerning the production costs and rates." He glanced at me over the rim of his glasses at this to make sure that I was listening before gesturing at the paper I now held in my hands, "That is the report for our annual costs. I've already looked over it and I haven't found a mistake, but I know that you like to do things yourself… so there it is." With this he waved a hand nonchalantly, "if you don't find any mistakes, it needs to be returned to the accounting department, block B to Mrs. Pearson, but I can do that for you if you just return it to me by lunch… Sound good?"
"Mr. Kirkland?" Looking up, I realized that I had been standing there standing at the paper like a bloody idiot. Alfred was looking at me with a hint of concern in his eyes. Alfred?! Since when did I start calling him Alfred?!
"Mr. Kirkland… are you sure you're alright?" I nodded quickly, looking to him and then back at the paper in my hand.
"I-I'm sure if you haven't found any mistakes, there are none." I muttered, handing him the paper before stepping past him to my office door. I entered the room as quickly as I could and shut it promptly to avoid any more questioning stares from my assistant.
"What the hell is wrong with me?" I mumbled as I slid into my chair, slowly swiveling the chair from side to side as I pinched the bridge of my nose. Taking a deep breathe, I sat up and began to pour over the papers that Jones had placed on my desk that morning.
-le time skip. 3rd person POV-
The rest of the day proceeded the same as the morning. Awkward conversations continued whenever they were necessary and Arthur had managed to stay cooped up in his office for a good part of the day. Whenever he dared to venture out to check on another department or to travel to and from meetings, the whisperings in the offices and the hushed conversations continued. Giggles and glances directed his way and continued to make the nervous shiver drive up and down his spine. Something was going on. What if Jones told everything about the events of Friday night? What if he told everyone how much of a blabbering idiot he was when he was drunk? What if he told everyone of their failed kiss attempt? Attempts? Oh God… Fucking fuck fuck bloody fuck. He had to get to the bottom of this.
A pale hand practically slammed itself onto the intercom system, waiting impatiently.
"Yes sir?" Jones voice drawled over the intercom system. The man sounded busy, distracted even.
"Jones, come in here. Now." Arthur's tone was a bit more venomous than he intended, but an immediately rustle of papers over the system alerted him that Jones had gotten the message clearly. A moment later, the door to his office cracked open, a honey blonde head sticking in through the crack before being followed by a body.
"You wanted to see me sir?" He asked. There was no hint of nervousness in his face, but a glint of curiosity. Had it been anyone else, Arthur was sure that the sheer tone of voice that he used on the man would cause a quaking puddle of fear to stand before him. But no, Jones seemed relatively at ease, minus the obvious tension that he carried in his shoulders. Arthur gestured towards the plush leather chair on the opposite side of his desk, emerald eyes glinting dangerously as he stared down the man before him. To be honest, it was entirely an act. A cold and calculating stare and aura emitting from Arthur was to hide the sheer nervousness that he fought to contain within himself at the other man's presence. The possibility that he had been exposed made him sweat under his collar. He could lose his title; hell, Jones would lose his job over the whole ordeal. However, Alfred merely shook his head, cerulean eyes never leaving emerald. "I would prefer to stand sir."
"Fine by me. Have you been busy today?"
"Yes sir, just going over the notes from your meetings and scheduling your meetings for this afternoon."
"Good, listen Jones… about Friday night-"
"What about it?"
"I-i…. have you told you anyone?" A boisterous laugh shook the room, humor glinting in the other man's face as he cracked a smile.
"Naww. I have more respect for you than that Mr. Kirkland. Besides, as I told you. Nothing happened."
"Er.. r-right, well… I was just wondering.. because.. it-there seems to be whispers going around the office… and" Oh hell, Arthur Kirkland was not some insecure little teenage pansy girl talking to her crush! But another laugh broke Arthur from his train of thought as he shot a glare at the American, "What the hell are you laughing about wanker?!"
"Haha, well.. ha, you see. You're quite popular around here Artie,"
"Artie?"
"Yeah. I'm surprised that you're just now noticing? The girls always whisper about you. You're quite the catch," Alfred winked before bursting into another fit of laughter. "Smart, powerful, handsome, British and you're single."
"Bloody hell! Who says I'm single?"
Alfred stared at Arthur as if he had just stated that he was an Asian woman. "its… uh, well… everyone just assumed I guess?"
"…bloody wankers need to bugger off and mind their own fucking business…" Arthur mumbled, turning his death glare to a paper weight on his desk shaped like a horrendous bulldog with a Union Jack on its back.
The American male chuckled as he approached the large mahogany desk and leaned against it. "Is there anything else that you need…sir?" Glancing up, emerald eyes roved over the other's form before reaching his face. Jones wasn't looking at him anymore, but looking out of the large window behind his desk. The view was remarkable - a breathtaking view of Manhattan with all of its buildings rising out of the gloom and muck of the daily city life to span into the sky; breaking the horizon with cold steel and clean lines. A community rooftop garden was visible from the view, a lovely combination of colors that was usually unpopulated except when need be. Usually, when Arthur took his tea he found that he couldn't tear his eyes away from the view. There was something so alluring about it, so free that made him want to be a part of it all. But now, he found himself unable to tear his eyes away from his assistant.
What made him so different? How was it that he could go through a night of dealing with a drunken Brit to making him breakfast and then come back to work on Monday and proceed throughout the day as if nothing happened? Why had he never noticed the man who sat on the other side of the wall, who attended to every detail of his day? What had changed?
"What are you doing tonight?" The voice broke the calm and silence, it sounded curious but strangely confident. Alfred turned to look down at his young boss, shock apparently on his face. It was then that Arthur realized that he was the one who had posed the question.
"Nothing that I'm aware of?" Arthur found himself fidgeting with a pen that was lying nearby on his desk, avoiding the gaze of the other man.
"If you're free, I would like to return the favor of your hospitality." What the hell am I doing? "And I would like to take you to dinner and perhaps discuss the events of the other night when I'm not hung over." Bloody hell. The poor man looked completely flabbergasted for a moment before a sly smile curled into his lips.
"You want to take me… to dinner?"
"Yes Jones, as repayment for anything that I may have done that night." Arthur sighed, a hand coming up to rub his face in exasperation. "What is so hard to understand about that?"
"Nothing, nothing. I'm free," the smile turned into a full-on grin that would've split any normal person's face. Standing up to his full height, the smile softened slightly as he looked down upon his boss. The Brit's façade was quickly crumbling as it appeared that the realization of what he just asked was dawning on him. "But if you're going to take me to dinner, you have to call me Alfred - not Jones."
"Fine."
"It's a date then, see you then." Alfred chirped, waving a hand as he strode towards the door. Strangely, the same demeanor that he had when he entered the office had never faded, but the confidence only grew.
"It's not a date! Git.." The door shut quickly, but not before a deep chuckled escaped Jones, leaving Arthur to sink further into his chair. Fingers combing through his unruly blonde locks in desperation, eyes wide and lips slightly parted.
Fuck. It's a date.
A/N: Hahaha. Hope you enjoyed. Sorry if this seems rushed. Still experiencing some writer's block and I don't get much time to write so it has to be done quickly. Please please please review. Let me know what you think, throw some idea's my way if you have any! I'm always open to ideas. Next chapter reintroduces the hands-on man from the bar ;) *onhonhonhon* And a few other characters might make an appearance.