Hello! Astro here with the next chapter. XD Once again, though I think you should know it by now, you guys are great! Thank you to everyone who follows and reads, and a special thank you to reviews. I really enjoy the feedback! ^.^

Warnings: USUK moment and narcoleptic Greece

Glowstick145 Aw, I'm sorry. Hopefully this one makes up for it! ^.^

alguien22792 I'm glad I kept it believable. . Hopefully it still is once this chapter is done… *is paranoid*

Renuki XD Alfred and ghosts… Always a funny combo.

Nayli28 I'm so glad you liked it! ^.^ I love reading your reviews, they're so nice. And I can completely relate to the internet issues. XP It tries to sabotage people. You don't have to do two… but I certainly won't stop you. XP

Asa-Taiyou ^.^ Thank you so much! It's a lot of work, but it's really fun.

CaptainCynical The irony here is that I had half of this chapter done before I got your review. XP This whole chapter is from Alfred's perspective. Anyway, thank you for the nice comments! ^.^ I appreciate them very much. And more USUK fluffiness coming up.

BadFriendsTrio Thank you! ^.^ Awesome username, by the way. I tried to update earlier but things got a bit chaotic.

Anyway, onward with the story with the characters and show that I don't own!

Chapter Nine:

Cats and Keys

Alfred curled up on his side, listening to the soft sounds of the city outside of the hotel window, his eyes wide open and staring at the wall. He glanced over his shoulder to make sure Arthur was asleep and the low buzzing of the TV was on before he slipped his head under the blankets and pulled out Kiku's phone. He'd received a message from Kiku asking how he was several hours earlier and had yet to answer it. He'd also gotten a message from Ivan telling him that he and "China"—Alfred had already worked out that Yao, the leader of an Asian based mafia family, was China—had successfully returned without incident, gloatingly asking Alfred if he was doing well under lock and key.

Alfred sent back a "just fine, thanks for asking, commie creep" before he moved on to Kiku's message. For a minute, he nearly typed out a less sarcastic version of his message to Ivan. He hesitated and deleted it, creating a new message. His fingers glided across the nearly silent keys, typing out, "I'm not bleeding or anything."

Kiku's response came a few minutes later, prompt as always, "What has happened, America-kun?"

He could almost imagine his best—only friend, he corrected himself—sitting at his impressive array of computer screens and technology with a frown on his face, his knees curled up near his chin as he sat in his throne-like office chair. He sighed heavily. He knew he could trust Kiku, he just… didn't really want to admit it. So, he deflected, "Went to parents' graves today."

Kiku's response was even faster than the first time, "That is interesting. The detective took you?"

Alfred was much slower with his response, "Yeah."

"I see," was the curt response.

Alfred sighed, knowing that Kiku wouldn't press the issue just as much as he knew that Kiku was aware that he'd deflected the real answer. The guy was nearly psychic with sensing moods, even across the phone. He finally decided to tell the truth, "I got attached."

The response from Kiku took a much longer time to arrive, "To?"

"Sherlock Holmes," Alfred answered, careful to protect identities.

"You should totally attack Holmes in his sleep, America!" Alfred stared at the text, eyes wide. Okay… What happened to the Kiku that squirmed uncomfortably when people on the streets hugged each other? And, since when did Kiku use sentence structures like that?

He got his answer in the next message, "My cousin sent the last message. Please ignore it."

Alfred bit at his lip to resist the urge to laugh. He'd met Yong Soo once before on a job with Kiku and Yao. Alfred had nearly laughed himself right out of his cover in the trees when he spotted the young man tackling Yao into a nearby pond. Even worse was his current desire to laugh at the image of Yong Soo and Ivan inhabiting the same living area.

"Tell him I said no thanks," Alfred responded with a smile.

"I will not dignify him with a response. Why does this upset you, America-kun?" Kiku asked.

Alfred sighed, feeling oddly normal and yet completely different, "'Cause he'll be mad."

Kiku's response was cryptic, as usual, "Many times, best thing for ourselves is what we fear the most. Time to work. Good luck." Alfred sighed and shut off the phone before hiding it once again. He rolled back over, looking at Arthur's sleeping back. He sighed heavily, slamming his head back into the soft pillow, aching for a sleep that wouldn't come for another hour or so.

The next day, Alfred was the second to wake up. Apparently, staying up until four in the morning made one sleep in a little longer than nine. The shaking of his shoulder only stopped when he groaned and opened an eye. The blurry form of Arthur scowled down at him, "Get up, git; we've got work to do."

"We? Dude, I thought you were the detective," Alfred complain, turning his head back into the soft pillow. Five more minutes was all he needed… Five minutes and a couple cups of coffee.

"And I thought you were the hero who was going to prove himself," Arthur countered, "Now get up."

"Artie… you're freakin' brutal, man," Alfred muttered into his pillow before he pushed himself up and grabbed his glasses. With his vision restored, Arthur's scowl looked a good deal less annoyed and more like it was covering up something. He squinted a bit, trying to figure out what it was. Arthur turned away before he could.

The Brit slipped his gun in a shoulder holster before he slipped on his coat, completely concealing it. He turned back to Alfred, "Go on, then. Hurry up and shower. We need to leave soon."

Alfred groaned again and managed to drag himself to the bathroom, nearly forgetting a change of clothes on the way.

As usual, a shower did Alfred good. He shook the few remaining water droplets from his hair before he looked back up at the mirror. He'd put on a t-shirt and jeans with his new jacket proudly thrown over the shirt bearing the emblem of the American flag. "The best thing for us is what we fear the most…" he mumbled to himself, smiling. He nodded, as though agreeing with his silent reflection before he gave it a thumbs-up and charged out of the bathroom. "Okay, Artie, I'm ready!" he called.

Alfred tapped his fingers absently against the window of the car, trying to occupy his mind with something other than his wondering thoughts and memories. The car ride was oddly silent and a tension filled the small space that Alfred knew he was partially responsible for. His foot tapped against the floorboard in time with his fingers.

Finally, Arthur broke. "Just bloody say it already!" he hissed, smacking the steering wheel.

Alfred tilted his head at Arthur, "What am I supposed to be sayin'? I mean, I know I'm brilliant and all, but I'm not a mind reader, dude."

Arthur sighed, looking much more demure than before. Alfred was constantly amused by the Brit's almost random mood swings. "I don't… I don't hate you," Arthur forced out in a quiet voice Alfred had never heard him use before. He was glaring at the windshield again, and Alfred nearly smiled at his expression.

"I'm sensin' a 'but' coming up," Alfred commented, grinning as he leaned back against the seat, interlocking his hands behind his head, "Guess I am totally a mind reader after all."

Arthur didn't comment on Alfred's joke, "But… I hate what you're doing to me."

Alright… Alfred was officially lost. "Uh… Mind translatin' that for me? I speak English, dude." He was well aware that he was ruining what was likely a very serious moment, but he couldn't help it; Arthur's expression were well worth it.

Arthur drew in a deep breath, likely to calm himself, before he answered, "I hate being uncertain."

Alfred waited for a minute, making sure that there wasn't another portion to the explanation. During the silence, he collected his scattered thoughts. He propped one foot on top of his opposite knee and looked up at the roof. "Maybe," he began, "things aren't always the way they look."

Arthur scoffed, "Where did you read that? A fortune cookie?"

Alfred laughed. Kiku sure had enough cryptic saying to get rich fast in the fortune cookie business. "You could say that, I guess," he said, still chuckling, "What I'm sayin' is that… maybe you outta give just winging it a chance. It's not that bad once ya get used to it."

Arthur sighed heavily, but didn't counter. Alfred felt a small warmth in his chest; he'd won that battle, he just wondered if he would win the war.

They pulled up at a crowded back street a few minutes later. "What are we doing here?" Alfred asked, looking around at the crowds of… unsavory people. If Arthur was looking for a great place to get mugged and murdered… he hit the jackpot.

"We're looking for someone," Arthur responded, his emerald eyes scanning the faces. The protective side of Alfred wanted to toss Arthur into the back seat and drive away. He knew all too well that the only thing they were going to find in that place wasn't good. It didn't matter what country they were in, they were all the same.

Something scratched at the side of the car, making both occupants cringe at the sound similar to nails on a chalkboard. Arthur opened the door, one hand reaching towards the weapon hidden under his jacket.

As it turned out, he didn't need the gun. A small grey cat hopped onto Arthur's lap, looking up at him with huge green eyes. Alfred half expected there to be some sort of explosive stuck to the cat's white and blue collar, but nothing was there save a piece of paper. If it had been any other time, Alfred would have burst out laughing at how he and Arthur must have look, staring at the cat as though it had just threatened to kill them.

Somewhere in the middle of his shock, Arthur managed to close and lock the door, never taking his eyes from the cat that was now grooming itself on his lap. "Dude… Artie, do you uh… There really is a cat in your lap, right?" Alfred started, not really sure what to do, "I'm not like… hallucinating or anything? I mean… is this like an alien invasion involving cats or somethin'?"

That seemed to snap Arthur out of his stunned stupor. He reached down and plucked the paper from the cat's collar and unfolded it, reading it aloud:

"Detective Kirkland,

Ludwig says that you want some information.

Too busy to go there, so I sent Mr. μάφιν instead.

Follow my map,

Greece.

PS Please bring μάφιν with you."

Alfred felt his heart skip a beat at the last word on the page. Why would someone working with Arthur's people use the same codenames as Alfred's people…? He covered up his shock with a grin, "Grease? Like the stuff ya cook with?"

Arthur smacked him on the back of the head, "No, you bloody git. Greece as in the Mediterranean country."

Alfred playfully pouted, "I knew that." The sad part was that he was actually telling the truth.

"Of course, git," Arthur sighed, looking at the map, "This is… It looks as though a child drew it."

Alfred glanced at the map drawn on the page (which actually turned out to be a napkin, now that Alfred got a look at it) and snickered. Arthur was right. The only thing it was missing was a crayon drawing. "I donno what you're talkin' about, Artie, that's freakin' artist gold," he laughed.

Arthur sighed heavily, setting the cat on Alfred's lap, "I suppose sitting in this pace isn't going to help…" While Alfred absently stroked the cat's soft fur, Arthur pulled out of the ally and managed to get them onto a main street before something bad happened.

After about two hours of chasing their own tails in the heavy traffic, Arthur finally managed to get them to the right address. It was a small coffee shop nestled quaintly between a large shopping center and a hardware store. Alfred didn't really question it. Instead, he picked up the cat and followed Arthur into the shop.

Despite the warm, welcoming atmosphere and heavenly smell, the place was, at first glance, deserted. It wasn't until they heard the soft sounds of snores that both men turned to find a head of dark hair laying on the counter, its owner sound asleep.

"Uh… Does your boss drink a lot?" Alfred asked, looking at the guy.

Arthur shrugged absently, "He doesn't shut up about German beer, so I assume he does."

Alfred walked up and poked the guy on the shoulder. Said man opened tired-looking green eyes before slowly raising up, looking lazily at his two visitors. "Oh, hello," he greeted, his soft voice accented. Alfred knew that the man before them was "Greece."

Alfred let the cat slip out of his hands and onto the counter where it meowed softly and nuzzled the tired looking man, purring happily. The Greek man reached down and scratched the small animal behind the ears with a smile. "So…" he started, looking back up at Arthur and Alfred, "You are the people Ludwig sent?" There was a yawn crammed in the middle of his sentence.

"Yes," Arthur answered, "I'm Detective Arthur Kirkland and this is my… assistant, Alfred Jones." Alfred beamed at the title.

"Heracles," the Greek introduced, his green eyes glancing at Alfred before he turned back to Arthur, "Can you do something for me, my friend?"

"What?" Arthur demanded, frowning.

Heracles smiled softly and pointed to the hall nearby, "In the back room… there's a folder with the things you want."

Arthur scoffed, commenting on the perils of laziness before he stormed off in the direction he'd been pointed to. Heracles turned his friendly gaze to Alfred, "Hello… America."

Alfred smiled, "'Sup, Greece?"

"Japan told me a lot about you," he commented, lazily leaning against the counter again, "He gave me something to give you."

Alfred tilted his head, confused, "You know Ki-Japan?"

Heracles nodded, digging in his pocket, "Japan is my good friend." He fished out what looked to be a tiny grey box with a single button on it. He handed it to Alfred who tucked it in his pocket. "It's a key to freedom," he explained, "When you use it… you are supposed to call me."

Alfred nodded, catching the meaning. Whatever it was, it would unlock the tracking device around his ankle. Merely having it in his pocket made him feel better. "Thanks, dude," he said with a nod.

Heracles smiled, "You're welcome."

Arthur returned a few minutes later with a thick folder, frowning at Alfred, "Why are you so happy?"

Alfred grinned, "I just heard a totally sweet joke."

Arthur sighed and shook his head before turning to Heracles, "Thank you for your work. Come along, Mr. Jones."

Alfred nearly snickered, waving to the Greek before following Arthur, "'Course, Mr. Kirkland."

Heracles was asleep before they made it through the door.

The suspense was killing him.

"Artie!" he whined loudly for the fifteenth time, "What's in the folder!" Alfred had never been one to handle having a large secret dangled right in front of nose, just out of his reach. While Arthur was sitting on his bed, flipping through the stack of papers, he had been left with the remote which quickly lost its mesmerizing qualities. He'd gotten up to stand next to Arthur, trying to sneak glimpses at what he was reading.

The Englishman was silent for a few minutes, emerald eyes still scanning the page before he flipped it. He finally addressed Alfred, "For the last time, git, these are top secret."

"But I'm your assistant!" Alfred argued.

Arthur sighed, "No, you're my charge. There's a difference."

Alfred frowned, tapping his foot against the ground. He had to know what was in those papers. He was quick to come up with a change in tactics. He sat down beside Arthur, smiling mischievously. "Arthur," he tried again, hoping the use of the detective's full first name was enough.

It was. Arthur looked up from the papers, "What is it?"

Alfred sprung his trap, attempting to snatch the folder while he was distracted. That, however, failed as Arthur hung onto the folder with all of his might, tugging it back towards himself. Thanks to his already awkward seating, Alfred was thrown off balance, ending up smacking his head against something soft and warm. He leaned up a bit and realized that it was Arthur's shoulder he'd landed on. It was also then that he noticed that he'd ended up placing one hand on either side of the Brit in his attempt to catch himself from falling. A pink dust covered Arthur's cheeks at the proximity, but neither one moved, not even to collect the loose papers nearby.

"Artie," Alfred started, hesitating in the middle of the sentence, "Push me away."

Silence followed once again, both of the room's occupants completely still. Alfred could see the inner struggle going on inside those emerald eyes. Finally, the battle seemed to end and his heart thumped in his chest, wondering which side prevailed. A small, hesitant shake of the head was his sign. Heart thumping loudly, he leaned in and claimed the prize.

A few minutes later, he was a bit surprised when warm hands pressed against his shoulders and even more surprised when slim fingers curled into the fabric of his shirt. He wasn't sure how much time passed before those same hands gave a gentle shove that sent him back. Arthur was staring at him, breathing heavily. "Not… No," he started, sighing, "You know what may very well happen to you when this is over."

Alfred nodded, sitting up, "Yeah, I know."

Arthur shuffled the papers together, trying to find come sort of order with them to balance the chaos that was evident behind his eyes. "Then you know why I shouldn't," he said, focusing on the papers.

Still, a warmth lit in the American's chest, "You mean, not 'cause of what I was?"

Arthur shook his head hesitantly, "No."

Alfred grinned, settling back on his bed, flipping through the channels. "Then, don't worry 'bout it 'cause I'm gonna prove to your boss that I can be just as helpful and heroic as Antonio," he declared, "And then everything'll be fine."

Arthur sighed, finally able to return to the papers. "I hope that you're right," he muttered so quietly that Alfred almost missed it. He didn't, however, miss the oddly sad and hopeful looks that flashed in those emerald eyes. "These are detailing the movements of Winter and your group for the past six years," Arthur said after a bit of silence.

"Huh?" Alfred asked, looking away from the TV.

Arthur held up the folder to indicate what he was referring to, "This has the details of everyone we suspect of being one of Winter's underlings and what little could be found on Winter himself."

Alfred scooted off his bed and sat down next to Arthur, looking down at the papers, "I can tell ya about them. Like, who they are and stuff."

Arthur looked up at Alfred as if contemplating something else to say before he nodded and looked back at the papers. They spent the rest of the evening looking into the information with neither one actually focused on the papers at all. They were both dwelling on the fact that Arthur had said that he "shouldn't" and not that he couldn't.

If google translate worked right, then μάφιν should mean muffin, but if anyone speaks Greek, please feel free to correct me if that's wrong.

Preview!

Alfred held a finger up to his lips, glancing around the corner of the hall. Arthur waited, holding the cold metal of the gun in his hands. Last time, he hadn't had a weapon. This time, things were different. He may not have been able to outdo Alfred in a fist fight, but their earlier competition told him that he could outshoot the taller blonde.

Seeing that the coast was clear, Alfred nodded, heading into the next room with nearly silent steps. Arthur followed after him, looking around at the impressive computer set up. Heracles had been right: whatever was hidden inside that computer was obvious something big.

Alfred suspected that it would be the key to trying up all of the seemingly random occurrences that had been popping up since the day Winter failed to kill him.