It carried on like this in the later weeks.
Alfred Jones would come into the shop at roughly the same time and the same day as the week before; the only difference really was that he seemed to be coming in earlier each time, not that Arthur really took any notice. But try as he might to avoid the American, he always ended up serving him; or, if failing that, the young man would trot up to Arthur when he was on fitting rooms (depending on the week) and attempt to talk his ear off. Needless to say, Arthur swiftly (and politely) always found a reason to be busy or ask the man to leave; thankfully the American never saw him as being rude, instead he just grinned and left as if he had accomplished something.
After the first few visits, Arthur had become somewhat used to the man; he still had an overwhelming sense of 'Oh lord, not him again…' But he no longer felt compelled to run for the hills; nor the horrible feeling that he was about to throw up (perhaps as a distraction, so he could then, run for the hills).
Rather it had become a… Tradition of some sort; Alfred's coming into the shop was a strangely welcomed comic relief for Arthur (though he would never admit it). The American would never fail to show Arthur more reasons as to how Alfred was an utter buffoon; but it was endearing in a way, one which Arthur couldn't quite put his finger on.
One week, the young man entered the shop a full half hour before when he would usually come in; there was no queue, so Alfred sauntered right up to Arthur's till with his ever present grin.
"Hi Arthur!"
"Hello." He said leaning back subtly, just ever so slightly. Arthur refused to call the American by his first name, even though he knew what it was now; it was a matter of principle. Why, to call the overly zealous young man by his first name so casually might give him ideas! The last thing Arthur wanted was for the man to feel he was so familiar with him that he'd think they were friends; the Englishman had to fight down a grimace at the very thought of the American flitting around him all the time.
It seemed that Alfred had come by on a mission that day, rather than to distract Arthur from his work and be a general nuisance, as the American lifted a plastic bag onto the counter.
"Sorry about this dude," he said cheerfully, though his smile was strangely sheepish; Arthur had no idea why he was apologising. "I bought some stuff last week but this is too small." He said, pushing the plastic bag across the counter slightly. "Can I return it?"
'Oh I see!' that's why he came to him straight away. Arthur still had no idea why he was apologising but…
"Oh, no need to apologise, sir." Arthur said a little too cheerfully; finally he wouldn't have to deal with the American for once. "Though I'm afraid you can't return items here." Alfred's face fell.
"I can't?"
"No, you see I'm not authorised to do returns; you'll have to go to till number one for that." Arthur gestured down the row of tills at his manager standing at the first one in the line. "You don't have to get in the normal queue for returns; just go and wait by till number one and they'll sort you out." He smiled shortly at the American as the smile returned to other's face.
"Oh I get it!" Alfred said with a grin. "Thanks for your help, sorry again!" and with that, he left to go to where he was meant to.
Really, that should have been the end of it.
Fate really did like slapping Arthur in the face.
The next week, Alfred came into the shop again; holding a plastic bag, he came up to Arthur and placed it on the counter. His grin was large and sunny as ever.
"Hey Arthur! So, I bought this for a gift, but the guy says it's too big; so can I change it for something smaller?"
Arthur looked at the man for a moment. 'Alright, fair enough he may have forgotten.' He smiled a little.
"Of course, sir; though I'm not authorised to do exchanges, you'll have to go to till number one for that." Alfred's face lit up with realisation.
"Oh right, yeah!" He laughed and took his bag. "Forgot about that, sorry. See ya Arthur!" And off he went.
This happened again the next week.
"Hi Arthur! I bought this a while ago and it, well… Just doesn't look good… So! I was wondering-"
"Yes you can return or exchange it, but you have to go to till number one." Arthur said exasperatedly. The American bit his lips together in embarrassment; he laughed sheepishly.
"Roger. Sorry. Thanks, Arthur!"
And the next week.
"Hi, Arthur! I bought this thing, but I think I actually like the other colour more-"
"If you want to exchange it you have to go to till number ONE."
"Oohp. Gotcha. Thanks, Arthur!"
And the next…
"Hi, Arthur! So I got this thing-"
"Till number ONE, Jones."
"Oh yeah! Right!" He left laughing.
When Alfred Jones came into the shop the next week, right on schedule, Arthur saw him coming. He was walking straight towards him, as usual, only this time he was on his mobile; who he was apparently talking to wasn't important. What was important was the fact that he was carrying one of the shop's plastic bags; meaning he'd come in to make another return or exchange.
The American grinned at him and raised the hand carrying the plastic bag in greeting.
Arthur greeted him with a scowl; pointing with the entirety of his arm to till number one. Alfred laughed loudly and walked past him, flashing him a grin as he did so. Arthur's face flushed with frustration.
Yeah. That's what it was.
Winter was stupid and could go die in a hole.
Fair enough it wasn't actually technically winter yet, it was only October; but the weather very quickly decided that it would be bitter cold with a biting wind to make it worse. Seeing as Arthur wasn't the sort to turn on the central heating in his flat (for goodness sake, the bills were high enough without the added bonus of central heating!), despite his many layers of clothing when at home, he'd come down with a bit of a cold.
This bout of 'man flu' would have been much more bearable if Arthur could have just stayed at home like the hermit he was; cuddled up in every duvet and blanket in his flat, watching reruns on 'Dave' and eating soup.
But oh no… Arthur had to work for a living.
He had to drag himself out of his wonderfully toasty bed, pull on his uniform (which was cold from being out in the open all night), and drive to the shop for eight hours of hell. Honestly, he could have called in sick, but the illness wasn't that bad and he wasn't one for turning down a chance to earn money just because he was reluctant to get up. In his opinion; he could still talk, he could still walk and he could still breathe. He would survive.
Although his nose apparently wanted to run a marathon.
Arthur sniffed for what seemed like the millionth time as he handed a bag to yet another customer; waiting until she turned and left before quickly swiping his finger under his nose. Of course, the one day he gets a runny nose and has to go to work, he would leave his tissues at home wouldn't he? Brilliant. Wonderful. This is exactly how he wanted to spend his day.
Being the uppity Brit that he was; Arthur wouldn't allow himself to (even subtly) wipe his nose while he was serving customers. Whether they would have minded or not, Arthur still didn't do it; it was the principle of the thing. He didn't really know why he didn't want to wipe his nose in front of people; maybe it was so he could be polite, maybe he didn't like the idea of someone wiping their nose in front of him so he'd offer the same courtesy, in fact… Maybe it was just the fact that people would be looking at him. Either way, he wasn't fond of the idea; he'd just have to deal with his nose, the customers, his arsehole of a manager making fun of him for not taking better care of himself…
"Hey, Arthur!"
And then there's this gitface.
Alright, so there wasn't actually anything wrong with Alfred Jones (other than being a complete gitface), but Arthur didn't feel well and his whole mood was swiftly going to utter pot. And of course, at that point there was no queue, so the American shuffled on by, placing a couple plates on the counter; he was wearing a scarf and earmuffs, wrapped up in one of those big parka coats, making him look a bit like a marshmallow. Arthur sniffed and pulled the plates towards him.
"I'll wrap these up for you, shall I?" he sniffed again as the young man nodded.
"Yeah, thanks a lot; don't want 'em to break." Alfred said with a grin. Arthur nodded and got out some tissue paper from underneath the counter, sniffing as he did so; he placed the first plate in the middle of the paper and began (*sniff*) wrapping it up. It was getting annoying now; trust Arthur's luck to have a runny nose the day Alfred Jones came into the shop. He was sniffing every damn five seconds and he was beginning to get self conscious; hopefully, no one would mention it. Then again why would they? No one had mentioned it so far and it wasn't really something people just comment on- -
"Hey man, you alright? You're sniffing a lot."
Alfred effing Jones could go and die in a hole. Bloody, insensitive, untactful American!
"I apologise." Arthur sniffed (he didn't really know why he was excusing himself for sniffing; he couldn't really help it); glancing up from his wrapping, he saw a sympathetic smile on the American's face. Such a genuine and charming expression (well, it wasn't that charming…!) made the Englishman falter for a second.
"Winter sucks, huh?" Alfred said gently; Arthur's eyes widened as he blushed a little despite himself. He sniffed and continued wrapping the plates.
"Quite." Arthur sniffed again and cleared his throat; he put the plates in his bag, he looked up again to see Alfred rummaging in one of his bags. "Could I have your store card?"
"Hm? Oh yeah! One sec…" he rummaged a little more before pulling out his wallet as well as a small, unopened pocket pack of tissues. "Here!" the American grinned, handing over the tissues; Arthur stared at them for a while before gingerly taking it and pulling one out. As he swiped the man's card, Arthur blew his nose silently (despite how increasingly self conscious he was becoming).
"Thank you…" He said quietly, holding the packet of tissues back out, attempting to give them back; Alfred just smiled.
"Nah, man, keep 'em." He lifted one of his bags as he gave over a £20 note. "I just bought a multipack; I have like, ten of these things, I have no idea what to do with 'em. So you have it, you need it more than I do right now." Arthur just averted his gaze and busied himself with sorting out the man's change; what was really embarrassing was that he could feel his cheeks burning. That was probably due to the fact he looked like an utter fool and now had an even bigger fool helping him.
"Well…" the Englishman cleared his throat and handed over the man's change and receipt. "Thank you… Again…" he mumbled, passing the bag over the counter; Alfred grinned again and took it, chuckling (a sound Arthur had never really heard seeing as the man didn't seem to like normal volume).
"No problem dude. Well! Thanks; see ya next time, Arthur! Get well soon ok?" the American smiled again and left with his bag.
Arthur was not blushing.
His face was red because he was ill and it was too hot in the damn shop; and certainly not because of Alfred bloody Jones! He looked down to the packet of tissues as he pressed the call button; he felt his lip twitch.
'I'm being an idiot…'
So! new chapter guys! In which Al has the memory of a sieve and Arthur gets Man Flu! (It's rather long, sorry about that :'3)
(For those who don't know: 'Dave' is a TV channel. More often than not, there are always reruns of 'Top Gear' or 'QI' or SOMETHING on there XDD)
(this chapter was so gross! all this talk about noses and shiz XD). To make up for the lack of update... I guess this is a double whammy Chapter? :3 just to push the story forward a little :'3
But yeah... Arthur's feeling something there... doesn't know what it is.. but it's there~ *slapped* I also thought I'd show the more considerate side of Alfred too. He isn't a fail ALL the time XD
All the reviews I've been getting for this fic have been really touching and I'm just so glad you guys are enjoying it! :'3 (I've also had a couple of people trying to guess the shop! which is always fun X3)
As always, your reviews and comments are highly loved and appreciated and I hope you're enjoying this fic as much as I am enjoying writing it!
Thank you all so much because you have no idea how much it means to me! I hope you enjoyed this chapter and I look forward to seeing you all in the next one! :3