Alfred was nervous. Matthew had only been there a few weeks, and it seemed Alfred was already tired of him. All day yesterday he had been grumpy, terse and short. He had even snapped at Matthew a few times.

Today he was twitchy. The nervousness flooded out of him, saturating the air so much that Matthew was getting nervous as well.

Earlier that day Alfred had locked himself in his office and the Canadian had heard him making several angry phone calls. Matthew hid from him as much as he could the rest of the day, not wanting to get a taste of that anger.

Now Alfred was positively frantic, sitting on the couch on the living room and tapping his fingers on his jumping leg. His eyes didn't fix on anything for long by kept sticking to the window, and the crack in the blinds.

Matthew was hiding in the kitchen, attempting to make himself something to eat quickly so he could go back to hiding from Alfred.

He jumped when be heard the doorbell ring, peering around the wall to see who it was.

Alfred pulled the door open, his bright smile stuck to his face again.

"Hey Artie, come on in."

Matthew shrunk back, but his curiosity made him peer around to see the newcomer.

It was a tiny man, thin and a good few inches shorter than Alfred. He was dressed nicely enough, though the sweater vest was a bit strange. He gave Alfred a friendly smile and Matthew couldn't help but stare at his monstrously fuzzy eyebrows.

"Evening Alfred."

Matthew couldn't say he was surprised to hear the man's accent, everything about him seemed to scream British.

Alfred was getting nervous again, twitchy.

Arthur's expression turned more serious. "Do you have the money this time Alfred?"

Alfred's twitching turned almost frantic. "A-about that…"

Arthur's look turned severe. "Alfred…"

"My dad froze my accounts! I can't get to anything until he decides I'm "worthy" or whatever."

Arthur sighed. "Then I can't give you anything."

Alfred looked like he was in physical pain. "C'mon Arthur! I'd love to pay you but I can't!"

Matthew's hand slipped from its place on the door to the kitchen and he stumbled, cursing.

The eyes of the two men turned on him, Alfred's smile sliding back into place.

"Hey Matt, come and meet Arthur."

Matthew slid over to them, his eyes sticking to the floor. Alfred clapped his hand on the skittery man's shoulder and Matthew's eyes popped back up.

Arthur looked him over, then offered a surprisingly friendly smile.

"This is Arthur, Arthur this is Matthew. Mattie's been living with me for the past couple weeks." Alfred's million-watt smile flipped between the two.

Arthur held out his hand for Matthew to shake. "Nice to meet you."

Matthew returned his smile shyly. Arthur dropped his hand and turned sharply to Alfred when the brassy American whispered in his ear.

Arthur flicked his gaze back to Matthew. "Excuse us for a moment, will you?" he grabbed Alfred's hand in a death grip and towed him toward the living room.

Matthew stood in the entryway, wondering what they were talking about with s growing sense of dread in his stomach.

When the two of them returned Matthew was fidgeting, rigid his hands and tapping his toe, Arthur didn't look happy, but Alfred's grin could have put the sun to shame.

Arthur shot a nasty look at Alfred. "I expect real payment next time. Don't blame me if they don't take him."

Matthew felt the knot of worry in his chest tighten.

Arthur gave him a gentle smile. "Come on lad, you're coming with me."

Matthew felt his stomach drop out and nausea replaced it.

He's selling me?

The Canadian quailed under Arthur's gaze. "O-okay…"

Arthur squeezed his shoulder, leading him to the door. "Don't worry, you'll like it with us. I hope."

The worry in Matthew's chest was momentarily displaced by the urge to giggle when he saw Arthur's car: a red mini Cooper with a white racing stripe over the hood and a union jack sticker on the back window. It was just so British like everything about Arthur that Matthew struggled not to laugh out-loud.

Arthur looked proud of his car as he held the door open for Matthew and turned out into the darkened street.

Matthew stared out the window as the city flashed by, surprised when they pulled into the parking lot of a bar.

As he stepped out on the crunching concrete Matthew looked up at the bar, squinting at the barely legible sign by the door that read "Kirkland's". He followed Arthur inside, greeted by the cheerful tinkling of a bell over the door.

The bar was quite average, dark wood paneling along the walls was the same as the worn wood on the floor. A long bar dominated the space with a smattering of little tables and chairs in much of the rest of the main space. An old-fashioned jukebox hooked up to new speakers was settled in one corner and to the left there was a well used pool table with one of the queues missing. The smell of faded cigarette smoke hung heavily in the quiet air and a half full ashtray sat on the sparklingly clean bar.

Matthew followed Arthur through the swinging saloon style doors to the right of the bar into a back room.

There was another large room with a pool table and a thick wooden door with a plaque that read "manager" in fading letters. Matthew only looked around for a moment before he was captured by the gazes of the four men gathered around the pool table.

Matthew shrank into himself under their stares, the knot of worry tightening in his chest again.

The biggest man stood from his perch on the edge of the table and crossed the space between them in strong strides. He had shockingly red hair and a smile that rivaled Alfred's. His clear blue eyes sparkled with friendliness.

"Arthur, who have ya brough' to see us?" The man shook Matthew's hand vigorously, his smile making the worry in Matthew's chest dissipate.

Matthew was surprised by the large man's cheery Irish accent, noticing his fuzzy eyebrows that were so much like Arthur's.

Arthur poured himself a glass from the mini bar by the door and took a seat on the edge of the table, swirling the ice in his glass. "This is Alfred's payment this month."

Matthew pulled his gaze from the Irishman when Arthur yelped when another one of the men jabbed him in the ribs with the missing pool queue.

"We dunnae do human trafficking!"

This man was ginger as well, but his accent was Scottish.

Mathew felt his head start to ache. Flicking his gaze to the other two men he saw they all had the same caterpillar eyebrows.

Brothers? But they don't look very alike…

Arthur rubbed his ribs and glared daggers at the Scotsman. "Of course not! He's here to work in the bar, as a waiter or whatever we need him for. " He dodged another jab from the queue.

The Irishman turned his grin back on Matthew. "That's wonderful! Connor Kirkland, nice t' meet ya!" He squeezed Matthew's shoulder and turned him to look at the others. "The grumpy one is Ian. The one with his feet on the table is William, and the one sleepin over there is Patrick."

Matthew looked at each of them. There was a bit of a resemblance beyond the eyebrows. They looked like a fading painting. If they stood in order of age Matthew was sure he would see the gradual fade from Connor's shockingly red hair to Arthur's muted blond. Their eyes did the same, bright blue to acidic green. It was disconcerting. He sighed. "Matthew Williams…"

Connor released his grip on Matthew's shoulder, striding over to the pool table and taking the queue from Ian. "So, do ya think ya will like staying with us, Matthew?"

Matthew blinked. "Live with you?"

Connor nodded, squeezing his big hand on Ian's shoulder when he opened his mouth to protest. "Yes. We've been needin someone to help Arthur and William with the customers, do ya think ya can do that?"

Matthew nodded after a moment. "Yeah, I guess…"

Connor traipsed back over and held out his hand again. "Then welcome to Kirkland's."

Author's notes:

Sorry this took so long to update! I've been super busy lately. I will try to get to writing more this coming week. I hope that you are enjoying the story so far c: comments are always appreciated!