A/N: So, I finished this back around Thanksgiving, and I was going to type it right away…but life happened, and then laziness kicked in, and I'm seriously forcing myself at the moment because I'm operating on four and a half hours of sleep and five and a half hours of working at a children's clothing store with awful repetitive Christmas music. I intended to write a Christmas chapter but, yeah.
So, um, this is a summer-themed/set chapter but… Merry Christmas?
Year: 1992
"C'mon Arthur, hop on." Alfred grinned, patting the seat behind him.
Arthur simply stared. Darting through the streets of Washington D. C. on Alfred's motorcycle was one thing – and Arthur would even admit it was a bit of a thrilling one – but this…
Of course, the Alfred presented to him here was not the smartly-dressed, professional government official he found in D.C. either. Currently, Arthur could not determine which was more tattered, Alfred's faded pale blue jeans, or the athletic shoes that might have once been white, but had been so covered in mud, soil, and sand in their time that they were a sort of off-white tan that would never wash away. He also sported a white Mississippi State football t-shirt and a baseball cap with the Dallas Cowboys logo on the front, his sunglasses – those aviators he'd had since the early 80s – resting on the bill. Overall, Arthur had to admit the image was rather endearing and had its own charm.
What was not endearing however, was the idea that Arthur was actually going to get onto that bloody four-wheeler, just so Alfred could go splashing through mud (he'd mentioned there was a creek around here) or driving through brush that would catch on Arthur's clothes and leave bits of grass in his hair.
Alfred, the manipulative little bastard, widened his eyes a bit and batted those long pale eyelashes at him. "Please, Arthur…" he pouted, puppy eyes at full force.
Arthur glared at him for a moment more – those eyes were not fair – and sighed. Finally giving in, he slung one leg over the seat and wrapped his arms around Alfred's waist. Alfred cheered and turned halfway to kiss him before revving the engine and calling over the sound, "Put your sunglasses on, babe. Don't want bugs flying in your eyes!"
Arthur groaned and shifted his glasses from his hair back down over his eyes, and Alfred pulled his own off the bill of his cap and settled them on his face. Arthur barely had time to clench his arms back around Alfred's torso before he took off down the steep gravel driveway and onto the dirt road that seemed to stretch endlessly between the trees on either side.
They came to a point where the actual gravel road took a sharp turn, but of course Alfred ignored it and turned onto the dirt path in the other direction.
Arthur was fairly certain there had been some kind of crops growing in this field the last time he had seen it ("Soybeans," Alfred reminded him later, though he honestly didn't care that much), but at the moment it was only grass, and – as expected – Alfred tore through it, heading for the wooded area on the far edge. Arthur realized, as twigs predictably tugged at the bottoms of his jeans, that Alfred was indeed heading for the creek.
An hour later, after a time spent splashing along the banks (and getting stuck in the mud, so that Alfred had to pull the vehicle out of it – a feat that usually would have required a truck and an iron chain) and "exploring" the woods, they returned to the house-trailer Alfred used as a weekend place here and climbed into Alfred's truck, heading toward town.
A few minutes outside of town (though technically within the city limits) they turned at a little country store, a few cars parked in front and two old gas pumps in the center of the lot.
A bell chimed as they walked through the door, and a few people looked up, smiling and greeting Alfred familiarly. He pushed the bill of his cap up slightly as he nodded to the woman standing behind the counter.
"Howdy, Miss Kay," he drawled, offering her an easy grin as he walked farther into the building. A few aisles of shelves stood to one side, with a refrigerator along the far wall, on the other side a section of fishing tackle and bait, and in the center of the room were a few tables and chairs, with people sitting around them and chatting.
As the two nations joined them, Alfred shook hands with a middle-aged man Arthur perceived to be the owner, exchanging a few words before Alfred gestured to him.
"Mr. Larry, let me introduce Arthur Kirkland. He's a buddy of mine from work up in New York. Thought I'd bring him here for a little hunting trip and some real food, show him there's more to this country than the big city." Alfred smiled. "Arthur, this is Larry Harmon. He owns this place."
Arthur nodded and shook hands with him in greeting. An older, grey-haired lady in glasses and an apron bustled over to them and Alfred smiled at her. "Hey there, Sara. How are you?"
Sara patted his shoulder fondly. "I'm doin' just fine. Can I get you boys something to eat?" He flashed her a winning grin and a wink and ordered for them.
"Yeah, get us a burger for my friend here and a barbeque sandwich for me. With a coke and water." She nodded and scribbled their orders onto her notepad before making her way through the open doorway to the small kitchen.
Alfred ducked into the back of the room to grab two bottles from the refrigerated section at the back wall, handing Arthur a bottled water and twisting open his own Coke. Arthur was a little struck by the informality of it all as he took a seat at the nearest empty table. Alfred sat across from him, half-turned in his chair, addressing the young woman sitting directly behind him, a baby in her arms.
"And who is this?" he asked, smiling at the baby, who simply blinked at him, wide-eyed.
"That's my grandbaby," Larry spoke up proudly. "Ain't she a doll?"
Taking the baby carefully as her mother passed her to Alfred, he bounced her in his arms slightly. "Yes, she is, he cooed, letting her grasp his finger. "How old is she?"
Her mother smiled fondly, reaching out to stroke the fine hair on her head. "Almost three months."
Alfred tickled her gently and earned himself a giggle, practically melting at the sound, and Arthur couldn't help but smile as Sara set their food before them and Alfred passed the child back to her mother. "She's a beauty," he commented lightly, "just like her Mama."
The woman rolled her eyes and swatted him, but Alfred just laughed and turned to his food, smiling at Arthur and chancing an affectionate nudge to his foot under the table when no one was looking. Arthur carefully fought back a blush and focused his attention on his burger, which was actually quite good, as Alfred jumped back into the conversation, pulling Arthur into it when he could.
That night, back at the trailer, they showered, washing all the dirt and sweat of the long day from their skin, and fell into bed, craving each other but too tired for any kind of hard, lust-driven sex or slow, draw-out passion. It was short, but tender and satisfying, and they lay in comfortable silence after, smiling softly, Alfred's hand brushing through Arthur's hair, his tracing idle patterns in Alfred's skin.
"Did you enjoy yourself?" Alfred murmured eventually, nose dipping into Arthur's messy hair.
Arthur smiled against his shoulder. "Of course, love. I always enjoy seeing different sides of you, watching you interact with your people." His mind drifted back to the baby in the store. "Especially the children."
The American's expression softened into a far-away little grin. "Yeah…I love babies, because, I mean, I'm trying to improve myself for all of my people, but I look at her and it's just…" he paused to find the proper word, passion evident in his voice and expression. "She's so small and innocent and pure, and whatever I do now, good or bad, she's going to inherit that one day. And I want her to have the best I can give her."
Arthur watched him fondly, reaching up to stroke his cheek.
"I can certainly understand that," he agreed softly. And it was true. He wanted the best for the children of his nation, but his mind drifted back to one innocent, pure little boy he had wanted to protect and give the best possible life.
Alfred seemed to read his thoughts and grinned at him, ducking down for a kiss and cuddling into him.
"Night Arthur," he yawned. "Love you." He was asleep before Arthur could reply. He smiled affectionately and kissed his forehead, before falling asleep to the sound of Alfred's heartbeat mixed with the crickets chirping outside.
A/N: So…I wrote that first a/n three days ago….but I'm finally done! I just really wanted to show that Southern!Alfred doesn't always have to be the cowboy or the farmer. Sometimes he's just the cutie in the t-shirt and baseball cap.
Here's his full outfit:
http: / chocalateandcheeseburgers. tumblr. com / post/ 14632957066/
I also believe that wherever he goes, he can behave like one of the locals, and the only way to do that is to write what I know. So everything in this story is real, and all of it existed in 1992, but it wasn't all together yet. The "Harmons" bought their store in 1994, and have now retired.
(And as for the identity of the baby….well…. )