A/N: I cannot believe this took almost 8 (?) months to update. I am so sorry! Life has been so hectic. Two new jobs, trying to figure out college, and several visits to see OutToGarden 3 I got a new laptop finally, so fingers crossed that I can crank out a few updates before I get too busy. Thank you for waiting patiently. I honestly didn't know it had been so long.

aphrodite931 - I am so sorry, hahaha. That's all I can say right now.

OutToGarden - I don't know why I'm even writing this for your review (except that you're my girlfriend - I love you - and also my best reader). HAHAHAHA ENJOY THE FLUFF WHY YOU STILL CAN :) I'm making more stuff happen. Better late than never, right?

Miztsi - Awe! Thank you so much!

"I've something for you. I had forgotten I even had this, but I knew you needed it as soon as I saw it."

Arthur emerged from behind the bookshelf with a few bulky books in hand, one of them rather plain. I couldn't read the title, but it appeared to be new. He was smiling in the way that he did, not actually smiling at all. It wasn't so much an upturn of his lips as it was something you could see in his eyes. His happiness was a thing I never took for granted and maybe even cherished, so I looked for signs of it wherever they could be found.

He brushed the top of the stack off as though removing some dust, though I knew there couldn't possibly be any. Arthur ran a strict business. Dust be damned, his shop would always look pristine. I subsidized the happy expression he should have made with a grin of my own. It was very sweet that he had thought of me and I was excited to see what it was. Probably a little too excited, if I was being honest. The fact that he had thought of me at all made me happier than I'd been in quite a while.

Having a bit of alone time with another adult had become somewhat of a foreign luxury to me, and I never thought I would be so happy to send Maddie to school. It had been nearly two weeks of nonstop daddy-daughter time and I needed a break. Thankfully, the angry book elf didn't mind some company at the shop for the day. I feared I wouldn't have much room left in my schedule for Arthur once I started my job between the town's factories as an accountant, so it was nice to have a little quality time right now.

"Thank you, Arthur. How thoughtful of you!"

He brandished the cover so that I could read the How to be a Good Housewife printed across the top. My face dropped and Arthur began to chuckle quietly to himself. I laughed a little, too, after the initial shock subsided. It was rather humorous, especially considering that it was Arthur who had done it. He didn't like to make jokes most of the time, so I treasured this moment. I thought him a very funny person when he actually cared to across the top. My face dropped and Arthur began to chuckle quietly to himself. I laughed a little, too, after the initial shock subsided. It was rather humorous, especially considering that it was Arthur who had done it. He didn't like to make jokes most of the time, so I treasured this moment. I thought him a very funny person when he actually cared to be.

"Come here, you," I said, inviting him to sit with me.

The angry book elf set the housewife book on the table but kept the other pressed into his chest. He sat on my lap and allowed me to kiss his cheek. "This is actually what I wanted to show you."

He gripped the cover in a way that blocked it from my sight and opened the book. Arthur flipped through the useless pages about copyright information and contents, skipping to the good part. His thin fingers danced across the page to the rhythm of a song I could not hear, tracing beautifully intricate illustrations that covered the entire paper. They depicted fairies in all manner of ways: dancing, sleeping, and other things it had been said they do with their time. When Arthur turned the page, there were more fairies to be found, and then mermaids and unicorns and all sorts of mythical creatures the farther he went into the book. I stopped him just as he was about to move on once again, seeing something that caught my attention for some reason.

It was a portrait of a beautiful blonde woman with skin pale as the moon, though considerably smoother. A golden crown of leaves was woven in her hair. Her eyes were such an odd shade of blue they appeared violet and I smiled at the resemblance to my little Madeline. Actually, she looked a lot like Matthew's wife with the same prominent cheekbones and long, thin nose. The woman in the picture had pointed ears even more prevalent than Arthur's. A caption beneath read: High Elf - the most pure and powerful kind of elf. I laughed to myself. Arthur had to be some other kind, then, for he was about as pure as the water found in a New York City gutter, in a sexual sense, of course. Madeline was going to eat this up, however.

"I thought Madeline would enjoy it," Arthur said in a way that made me think he was jealous of the drawing I was staring at. I didn't let the accusation go any further.

"This one looks just like her mother."

He touched the page with the caution of a man thinking he'd be burned. "She was a very beautiful woman." The words did not sound genuine coming from him. It was the truth, though.

"I don't have any pictures of her. Madeline always asks, and I just don't know what to tell her. The worst part is, at this point, I feel like Matthew never existed. His own daughter doesn't know about him and -"

Arthur shifted sideways on my lap and let the book fall closed on his. He kissed me once tenderly with his hand gripping my chin. "I think Matthew would understand."

"How would you know?" I asked, trying not to sound cross. "You didn't know him."

"I know because you are protecting his little girl - your little girl - from more heartache. You say she always asks about her mother and is disappointed when you don't have much to tell her? Well, imagine that, but if both of her parents were dead to her. There's only so much you can say about Matthew. You hardly knew him at all as an adult. What you could tell her about him would all be of a person that didn't exist anymore. Matthew was a grown man, not a little boy you grew up with."

He looked me in the eyes when he said this. I knew he was right - about everything. That made me realize that I knew nothing about Arthur's family. I suppose he could have one just like mine. My parents were still alive, though they condemned the "choices I made". Perhaps Arthur's were not supportive of him when they found out he preferred men and abandoned him as well. I would ask him someday, but not now. He would disappear like he always did when the situation became too personal.

"You're right," I admitted. "That is exactly what Matthew would say."

Arthur kissed me again to confirm he was, as always, correct. Being right was his favorite thing to be. I think he got off on that more than he did on me, which was concerning, but not in a way that I would actually have to concern myself with. He didn't surround himself with books to become the village idiot; that's for sure. Occasionally I worried he would realize I wasn't as widely educated as he was and leave me for some other hermit bookshop owner. That's usually about the time I remembered we were two queers living in a small town together. The odds of him finding another man that was even gay within a hundred mile radius was slim to none.

"I just wonder if I made the right decision. It wasn't the most... common path I could have taken."

Arthur was unusually quiet, which was never a good thing. I kissed his shoulder and wound my arms around him for some physical reassurance, but it was already too late. Arthur was slipping away from me again.

"Sometimes we do unconventional things to protect the ones we love." Arthur turned his face from me and began rising from my lap. He stopped a couple feet away, hugging the book to his chest, but refused to look in my direction. "And those things... they don't always seem to make sense. You say it's for the best, and - and they believe it because you're always looking out for them."

Arthur was getting progressively more upset. He trembled slightly as though forcing back a sob and clutched onto the book more tightly. It was his salvation. I got up to try to comfort him and Arthur stepped away from the hand I placed on his shoulder. There were tears budding from the corners of his eyes. I reached out to brush them from his cheeks and he glared at me so that even I was convinced I was the devil.

"Don't touch me!" he spit. His voice was lower now, but still full of venom. "Don't you fucking touch me."

"Arthur, let's talk about this. I don't understand. What's wrong?"

He made an expression of anguish that completely ripped my heart to shreds. "Just. Leave."

"Arthur-"

"Out."

How could I argue with him? We were in his establishment and something I did had upset him. Arthur had every right to kick me out, even if I didn't understand. Even if it sort of hurt my feelings. I shuffled out the door before he could throw something at me, half hoping he would call after me. He didn't. The door slammed shut, and the little bells I installed at the top, to let Arthur know when a customer was coming, made a sad jingling noise.

Before I had time to so much as collect my thoughts, I saw a man and his family approaching me quickly. I tried to ignore them by turning away and pretending I hadn't seen them trying to catch my attention. In my head, I prayed they would go away. They were persistent little buggers, increasing their pace slightly so that I'm sure the youngest had to jog a bit to keep up.

"Hello, neighbor!" The voice of the common American man rang out from a short distance away. "Jones, wasn't it?"

I wasn't in the mood to chat with someone after the lover's spat Arthur and I had in the bookshop. In his hurry to kick me out, he had forgotten to give me the book for Madeline and now I had to go back later to get it, and to apologize for whatever I did. Something told me that I had nothing to do with Arthur's freak out. I hoped that I was right about that, at least.

The man's footsteps grew steadily louder and I faced him properly. He was a tall German man with blond hair and blue eyes, and an identical family trailed beside him. I wondered how they got along in America after all the nasty war business our two countries were involved in. Then again, we were a more "civilized" nation now.

"Uh, yes. Jones. Alfred Jones." I shook the man's hand and then his wife's. "Pleasure to meet your acquaintance."

Each member stated their name and said hello, but I did not bother to remember them. I didn't want to meet them. Even I could tell that they tried to conceal their accents in order to fit in, though they did so rather well. They were a classic nuclear family with a husband, wife, and two children, a boy and a girl. It disgusted me how well they represented the era we were living in. I wanted to separate myself from them as much as humanly possible.

"It's a pleasure, Mr. Jones! You have yourself a little girl about my Catherine's age, I recall. They'd have to be in the same class."

Had it really gotten so late that I forgot to pick Maddie up from school? I continued to smile at them, even after realizing what an awful parent I made, hoping I could edge my way out of the conversation and run to the school before my daughter began to worry. The man apologized for forgetting to introduce his wife and son and said their names as though they were written down for him to practice. I said a greeting to each of them.

"Say, pal," the man said, furrowing his brow behind his glasses, "what were you doing in that shop just now?"

I panicked, firstly thinking of how sore I was from all the sex Arthur and I had throughout the day. "What? This shop?" I pointed behind me at Arthur's bookstore in hopes the stall would give me time to think up a good answer.

"Of course! Where else?"

"Oh, I was looking for a book," I replied cleverly. I'd kick myself for that later. "My daughter adores reading."

The man eyed the place in a way that made me uneasy. He obviously didn't trust something about the bookshop. "I'd be careful around here, pal."

Something in his voice told me that he and I would most definitely not make good "pals". We were from very different worlds, if his hesitation was any indication. I already knew what he was going to say before I bothered to ask what he was getting at. Hopefully he would maked this as quick and painless as possible.

"Why is that?"

I looked back at the shop I loved and tried to stay cool. He shifted uncomfortably on his feet. His wife's mouth was pressed in a hard line as she ushered their children to play in the opposite direction of the building while the adults talked. They appeared as uncomfortable as I felt during the entire brief conversation. The man lowered his voice to a loud whisper, so the children wouldn't hear what he had to say.

"Well, buddy, you should know what everyone's saying about the guy that lives here," he began, and gave his wife a look that told me he was reluctant to even mention it around her. "There's been word that he's... a little off."

"'Off'?" I repeated. It wouldn't be hard to play the innocent newcomer that hadn't learned who would make a fine friend just yet. "How so? Don't tell me he's involved in any of that nasty Mob business. My daughter and I moved here to get away from that filth."

Americans were full of all sorts of judgments at the time. You couldn't be queer, black, or foreign in any way. Even if your parents were born here, if you had the wrong kind of mix in you, you were in for a rough time. Such was the case with the Italians. The Mafia had left a sour taste in everyone's mouths, and you couldn't trust anyone, even if they were white.

I was fortunate to be an obscure blend of all the right things. Arthur was lucky, too, being British. We Americans were all a bunch of suckers for an attractive man with an English accent. So long as they were our closest allies, the Americans and Brits would get along just fine. God knows a little too well in my case.

"No, no. Nothing like that, I assure you. You know, buddy. He just... doesn't fit in with everyone else. Likes to stick to himself mostly. We all leave him alone except for when we need to buy a book or two."

The man's wife finally added her two cents. She appeared excited to have something to contribute to the conversation. "All the girls I've spoken with said he's never been married and it doesn't look like he will be anytime soon."

I pretended to ponder that for a moment, but not too long. "He seems sociable enough to me these past few days. Maybe he's had it rougher than all of us. Marriage is a big commitment, after all."

That served to steer the conversation away from Arthur as my neighbors began to ask about my 'wife'. They received the same story I'd given Madeline time and again. We were married for less than a year when Madeline was born, and she passed away shortly after. I sold them the sob story about her being the only woman I could ever love, and finding a new wife would take a while. Perhaps I'd never find someone suitable enough. They assured me that I'd settle down sooner than I thought.

"It's about time, Mr. Jones. Your little girl is half grown. She needs a mother now more than ever," the wife said with a hint of indignation.

"She's right, pal. There are plenty of women around here that are quite marriageable."

"I don't doubt it, sir," I replied. "Now, if you'll please excuse me, I have to see a tailor about some suits."

The family bid me farewell, and I never felt so relieved.

AAA

"Daddy, where's Arthur?"

Madeline didn't hesitate to inquire the book elf's whereabouts as soon as we stepped into the house. When Arthur didn't greet her right away, she knew he wasn't at home waiting for her. That wasn't what usually happened since my lover enjoyed spoiling her as much as he did making my life hell. He'd be in the kitchen scavenging for sweets that were the least scorched (our trysts often interfered with his baking, resulting in inedible char and a kitchen at risk of burning to the ground).

"He's always here to ask me about my day," she added with an exasperated huff. Her mouth was set in a pout now.

My daughter didn't care for the simple truth that he was at the bookshop. She continued to press the subject with a pointed "why?". I didn't know what to say. It was true that Arthur spent most of his time with us since book selling wasn't a job with the highest demand around here, but I couldn't give her an excuse she'd believe. Even a seven year old could see right through me.

"Arthur can't always be with us, sweetheart," I answered.

"Why?"

"Well... he's an adult - with responsibilities."

"Why?"

"He has the store," I began. "Arthur needs to take care of it. So he can't be with us right now."

"Why not?"

I stared, dumbfounded, at Maddie, just realizing we were caught in the infamous loop of "why" and "why not" and stopped to think. This time I wasn't going to be bested by a little girl.

"I have a present for you."

Madeline's eyes lit up and she cracked a bashful smile. She would never tell me that she liked being spoiled, but I knew better than to assume otherwise. Arthur's presence assured my daughter was always treated like royalty without exception. If I so much as brought up the subject, he would scold me as though I were the child, and a naughty one at that. So long as she behaves like a princess, she'll be treated like one, Mr. Jones, he'd snap. I could have sworn Madeline was his daughter, and she accepted Arthur into our life as a second father.

"Okay, I lied. There is a present, and it is for you, but it's from Arthur, and I forgot to pick it up from the shop today." That is all Maddie needed to hear to start begging for Arthur. "Ah, ah, ah! Schoolwork first, bookshop later."

"But, Daddy -" Even when she argued, Madeline was quiet and sweet.

"We have to get things done around here first and then if we have time, we'll go see Arthur. Deal?"

I knew that between getting homework done, dinner eaten, and preparing for the next day, we wouldn't have time to visit Arthur before the hour became too late. Even this little trick made me feel terribly guilty. Knowing how much Madeline loved Arthur, I shouldn't be lying to her about things such as this. She was such a sweet girl and did not deserve the turmoil I unknowingly brought into our relationship with the shop owner. I began to wonder if I could fix the damage that had already been done. Arthur didn't seem the type to forgive easily, even for minor offenses, so I had my work cut out for me. There was no other option, however. I had to correct my error so that the angry book elf would remain a part of our lives.

Tomorrow, I thought as I lay down to sleep. I promised myself that I would do everything in my power to fix this mess in the morning and planned to stick to my word.

AAA

He came into my room in the middle of the night. I don't know when it was or why he decided that this was the right time, but then again, I didn't really know Arthur. When we first met, I thought he was the most practical man I'd ever known. As time went on, I began to notice that he did some odd things that were very out of character but somehow still made sense. Arthur Kirkland was the inverse of a tornado; calm on the outside with a raging, unpredictable tempest within.

Neither of us spoke. Perhaps I should have asked how he made it through the house without waking either Madeline or myself. It hardly mattered. He simply climbed under the comforter and snuggled into my side without a word, nor any indication that he was hysterical mere hours prior. Even though I was more than a tad concerned about Arthur, I felt immediately better when I had him in my arms. I knew that in the small hours of the night he would let me console him, but he would never let on as to what plagued his heart with so much sorrow. At this point, I didn't know if he would ever tell me, and I was okay with that.

I could not do much for Arthur when he began to cry and I knew that this was okay. It was different from what he'd done in the bookshop. This was a slow, gentle build up of emotion that almost voiced an apology. I assumed that it was for me. He didn't try to talk about it, and neither did I, and that worked well for us. Matthew had always joked that I was shit at reading others' emotions, but I was learning with Arthur.

A lot of things had changed within a short period of time, namely my entire outlook on life. Not even months ago, but weeks, I thought my life was over. I had no job, no house, and no family because of what I was. Maybe everyone was right, then. Being a homosexual only brought pain and suffering to the sinner and those closest to them. But now there was Arthur. He was my beacon in the night, the green light at the end of the dock that I looked to for guidance. Arthur was everything I could have ever dreamed of and more. He was a mean, grumpy sort of man that somehow made my life worth living.

I stroked Arthur's hair and listened to his breathing return to normal after he stopped crying. His fingers would move a bit every once in awhile as though he was reminding himself that I was still there with the touch of my skin. I could smell the smoke that lingered on his clothes from the cigarette he had while contemplating if he should risk coming over this late. We would discuss that later, along with the other chances he took tonight. For now, we would simply appreciate having someone to hold on a chilly night.

There were many things I wanted to say to him now that he was here, but had no words to express any of them. I couldn't sleep for fear of waking up to find him gone again, or worse, to discover that this reconciliation was merely a dream. He hadn't a single problem falling asleep with no explanation behind him arriving at such an hour or why we had fought earlier. For a long time, I laid awake in wonder, praying that somehow everything would turn out the way it ought to. Before I finally fell into a heavy sleep, I kissed the top of Arthur's head in hopes that it would grant him sweet dreams. He deserved all the happiness in the world, I thought.

And in that moment, I realized that I had fallen in love.