I'm sorry, can't mention all you guys this time, have to go soon, but thanks to all who reviewed! Wrote this all while listening to "somewhere in time" THAT SONG IS AMAZING!


Arthur walked quickly down the street, heading for the place he'd never wanted to set foot in again. He passed a cheap motel to see a familiar face walk out. He stopped, trying to duck away, but she'd seen him.

"Ah, Donny's little butt buddy. Did he visit you last night?" Sarah was wearing a rumpled dress; her hair pulled back, her eyes rimmed with bags. Arthur shook his head in confusion.

"I'm sorry, what are you talking about?"

Sarah realized something at that moment. Adonis loves Arthur, but they haven't…oh, this is too good!

"I just thought, you know, since I got a piece last night, maybe everyone got something. But then again, Donny isn't gay, so why am I even asking you?" She stalked away, trying in vain to recover from the fact that someone else had a love, someone who was interested in more than their body.

That was something Sarah had long traded away, true love, due to heartbreak over the years. That was part of the reason she'd stuck with Adonis, his gentlemanly manners, his refusal to do the naughty until he was ready, or had believed himself in love. His refusal last night had hurt her, showed her just how vain and shallow she'd become. A part of her surfaced at that moment that she'd not remembered, and she actually felt bad for what she'd just done to Arthur, who was now standing there, tears slowly running down his face. But her pride caused her to walk on, her eyes sadly searching for a new good time to turn her mind once again away from her own problems.


Arthur made it to Madame LaRose's shop, sighing as he went to push the door, having run here last night to find the place locked. Now he was reluctant, hoping against hope not to see Alfred, but also wishing to see the love of his life one more time before he left for good.

Upon opening the door, he saw that it was Madame LaRose standing behind the counter, not Alfred, causing a huge disappointment run through Arthur. The woman had a sad smile on her face, and Arthur sighed, strolling up to her.

"Did I leave my journal here yesterday? I tried to come last night, but this place was closed early. I really need it, I don't know…he isn't gay…he slept with Sarah last night, he's never going to be my Alfred again, so please, if you know where it is, I'll pay you anything for a reading…" He watched her nod and disappear around the corner, his eyes watering.

She walked up the stairs, intent to grab the journal. She had no idea if Alfred had read it, if he remembered, or if he had just fallen into bed after his night with Sarah.

He was laying on his bed, curled around the journal, and the Madame brushed his hair off his forehead to look down at this boy she'd come to think of as her own.

His eyes were rimmed with bags, his skin pale, and his expression sad. The psychic didn't have to mind read to see that he'd regretted his night with Sarah. She also knew he was going to have to work a little harder to sort everything out. She pulled the journal from his unconscious grasp, and turned to walk back down the steps.

"Here, Arthur, I found it yesterday under a table, and had stored it in the back."

"Thank you, so much. This is all I have of Alfred, now that he's moved on…I'm flying out in an hour and a half for that reason, so I must be going."

"If you truly love something, you'll give it up…" She nodded her head as she said the old saying. Arthur walked out of the door, wiping tears from his eyes.


Alfred opened his eyes at the sound of a loud horn blaring down the street, and immediately felt for the journal. Not feeling it, he looked around. Then he realized where he was.

He jumped out of bed, even though he'd only had two hours sleep, and he ran down the stairs. The Madame had already opened the door, and Alfred saw her at the counter, looking off into space, deep in thought.

"Madame LaRose, where is the journal?"

"Soon to be boarding first class with a certain Arthur Kirkland for England in thirty minutes."

Alfred ran for the door. "Arthur hates LaGuardia, so it would JFK he's flying out of…" Alfred stopped, his eyes wide.

"Yes, Alfred, now go, England can't wait much longer!" He smiled at her use of his name.

He was back, as if he'd never been gone for a year, and as he ran, he felt that year strip away, his love for Arthur having never disappeared. "I'm coming, Artie, just please, wait for me!"


Arthur sat in the terminal, his head in his hands, his eyes puffy and swollen. Alfred, Alfred, how could I have ever taken those days for granted?

He sat up finally, reaching into his bag and pulling out the journal. Instead of Alfred's writing, there was that script.

You should have said one last goodbye…

You should have fought one more battle…

Love is a battlefield, tearing people apart; don't surrender just yet, the battle still rages…

"Boarding now, first class of flight 4701 for London, England, boarding at this time, first call." Arthur stood; his heart wishing what the journal said was true. He put the journal into his carry on, and walked into the checking in station.

Goodbye Alfred…hope you meet someone special that is better for you than I ever was…

Arthur turned his back on Alfred, on America, and started to board.

"WAIT! WAIT!" Arthur stopped in his tracks, already halfway up the indoor terminal gangplank. Outside, there seemed to be a commotion.

"Sir, please, we are boarding, do you have a ticket…"

"Please, did Arthur Kirkland board this plane?"

"Sir that's confidential information…"

"So am I, now please, just answer my question, code 1776, Jamestown, whatever it was last. Please, I must see him!" Arthur was running back down the gangplank, his bag knocking against the walls as he ran, not caring for once how un-gentlemanlike he was acting.

He burst back through a crowd of people, looking desperately for that blond head. People around him were complaining all around him, and he didn't give any of them a second look, shoving them all aside. There, at the front desk, was Alfred, his hair wild, his clothes haphazardly thrown on, pleading with the flustered flight attendant.

"Alfred?" Baby blues spun at the sound of their name, and Alfred just stared at him. Arthur saw the sickly complexion, the bags under his eyes, the flushed cheeks, the look of relief…and the light that had been missing for a very long time from those eyes.

"Arthur…" One word, breathed out, slowly, passionately, so familiarly, Arthur dropped his bag, running for Alfred, who opened his arms, their bodies colliding into an embrace of passion, Arthur's face buried into Alfred's chest. The airport fell away, and it was the two of them, Alfred's hands on his back, holding him as if he never was going to let go. Arthur gripped Alfred's shirt, sobbing in a way, which if anyone else but Alfred had seen it, would have made him want to die from embarrassment.

"Alfred…Alfred, oh god, it's you, isn't it?" Arthur finally pulled away to see that Alfred had been crying as well.

"Yes, Arthur Kirkland, it is me, and me it shall always be." A hand ran down Arthur's face, and he leaned into it, loving the touch. Alfred's breath hitched.

"How could I ever have forgotten your beauty? How could I have ever wished this all away? I really am one stupid fool…" Alfred now turned his eyes downward. "To think, you heard what I had said yesterday, lies as blatant as Soviet propaganda. Oh Arthur, I loved you even yesterday, before I did something horrible…"

"Shh, luv, I really don't give two cents." Arthur put a finger to Alfred's mouth, only to have it be kissed gently by those same lips with showed such sadness. "I only care that you are here, my Alfred, my boy, my lover, my friend, my everything…I was going to walk away from all that…"

Lips crashed upon his, desperate and passionate, drawing a sigh from Arthur, who wrapped his arms around his American's neck. Somewhere in the background, he heard the check-in lady call for last boarding, but he didn't care anymore. He wasn't going home to England for a very long time.

Alfred felt his mind clear, his memories now restored, along with his love in his arms. As they pulled away to catch their breath, they both remembered they were in an airport, and that there were groups of teen-age girls watching them with interest, while the rest of the population averted their eyes. Laughing, Alfred wrapped an arm around Arthur's waist, picking his bag up with the other hand. Arthur smiled, and reached up to give Alfred another kiss, which was eagerly returned.

"Every night, I would feel you near me, Arthur. Your touch, your lips, but oh, how I've missed it."

"Oh, Alfred…" Arthur leaned his head on Alfred's shoulder.

"And then, the first time I realized I had fallen in love with you over again, was the day I met you, Canada day, when I heard you whisper in my ear that night…"

"What did I say?"

"Remember Me…"

They walked on, having nowhere in particular to go, not caring in the least, so long as they had each other.


huff, huff, there you go! took me an hour of non stop writing! HAPPY CANADA DAY! LEAVING FOR VACATION TOMORROW. Can't think of a fun fact. you guys should review funfacts, and if any of you stump me, I'll post it in the next chapter! (which won't be out for a while)