So, what has it been, 3 years since I worked on this story? I decided it's finally time to get back to this and finish it. At least then I can say I completed one fic that isn't a oneshot. So without further ado, there is chapter 14.
"Arthur, when are we gonna see Alfred again?" Peter whines from the table, warming his nose over a cup of hot chocolate. Arthur sighs, pouring himself a glass of the thick liquid before rinsing the pot out. Peter has requested hot chocolate enough times that Arthur's gotten quite good at making it. Actually, he's not heard a complaint out of the boy about that in a long while.
"Well, I actually hadn't decided just yet." Arthur confesses, squirting a generous tower of whipped cream into his mug. Peter quirks an eyebrow at him, pushing his sleeves down over his fingers for warmth. "Peter." Arthur sighs, unsure of how to broach the subject. This involves Peter too. Peter deserves to know. "I need to talk to you about Alfred." Peter looks at him imploringly, and his constantly kicking feet stop against the bottom bar of the chair at Arthur's grave tone. He seems to sense the direction of the topic because he's adopting the look that he gets when Arthur's about to box his ears for doing something foolish. He drops his hands to the table as Arthur takes a seat.
"What for?" He wants to do this delicately. He still remembers, very vividly, how his parents had reacted when he had come out. Or rather, how his father had reacted and his mother hadn't. It had been a disaster, and while he doesn't blame himself for the state of their family back home, his coming out to his parents had certainly been a catalyst for their unit's self-destruction. Their parents had been walking a fragile line back then anyway, and Arthur's confession had pushed not only his father over the edge, but his mother too. He'd not come home after that night for days. Only after they'd left him a voicemail threatening to send the police to fetch him had he decided it a good idea to return to the house when he did. But they'd kept it from Peter all this time and out of simplicity and fear of their wrath Arthur had played along with the secret. It's different now, though. He and Peter don't live in England anymore, thankfully, and he knows that Peter's bound to find out eventually, so it's better to tell the boy himself. And yet Arthur doesn't want Peter to think any less of him. He doesn't know how the boy feels about those sorts of things, and he hadn't wanted to broach the subject until it was necessary. But since Alfred had pecked his cheek and shoved his phone number into Arthur's hand, he's decided that he can't put the chat off any longer. Even if he and Alfred don't go anywhere serious, Peter's going to be exposed to the secret that Arthur had fought to keep from him all this time and it's better for Arthur to say it himself than it would be for him to stumble upon something he wasn't meant to see and finding out that way.
"Well, I wanted to speak to you about…the nature of our…friendship." Finding the words is difficult without putting it bluntly. Maybe he should have thought out what he was going to say before he started this. It's too late now, though.
"Yeah, okay." Peter says slowly, looking a bit confused. Arthur blows out a fast breath.
"Well, you know how you feel about that cute little girl at school?" Arthur decides to start small and Isabelle seems to be the perfect scapegoat at the moment.
"Isabelle?" Peter brightens now that the subject turns to someone that he's familiar with. Arthur nods with a smile.
"Yes, Isabelle. You know how she makes you happy?" Peter pokes his lips out petulantly, as if he's about to deny it, but then decides better of it. Reluctantly the boy nods. "Don't worry, Peter. I'm not here to tease you about it." Arthur says with a laugh, and is relieved when Peter relaxes. "But, how you feel about Isabelle is how I feel about Alfred." Rudimentary, maybe, but he's sure that the example will illustrate his point well. Peter blinks for a moment, fiddling with the hems of his sleeves.
"So, you're saying that you're a fag." Arthur feels like he has been slapped across the face hearing that word come from Peter's innocent little mouth. It echoes in his ears, falling again from his father's lips with a vicious sock to the mouth all the while his mother had just stood by, not bothering to intervene. His expression darkens and Arthur furrows his brow, leaning forward across the table to get up in Peter's face.
"Where the bloody hell did you hear that word, Peter?" Peter shrinks away from him, shying from Arthur's bitter rage.
"A-at school!" Peter exclaims, and Arthur realizes that he didn't mean it in a derogatory way. "That's what they say it is when a boy likes another boy."
"I don't ever want to hear that word from your mouth again." Arthur points at Peter accusingly, "do you understand me? That's a horrible name to call someone."
"Y-yes sir." Peter mumbles, hiding his mouth behind his hands. "I'm sorry." He adds in afterthought. Arthur nods satisfactorily, reaching out to ruffle Peter's hair.
"It's alright." He says, "you didn't know any better." Arthur lets out an unsteady breath, before collapsing back into his chair. "But, yes, Peter. I am gay which is the proper term for it." Barring homosexual, but for the gist of the conversation, he's sure that gay will suffice. Peter takes a minute to unfurl himself from the ball he'd curled into, but he eventually gives Arthur a small nod.
"Okay." He says, brightening the dim mood with a smile, "so you never answered my question." Arthur quirks a brow. "When are we gonna see Alfred again? I had a lot of fun skating the other day!" Arthur blinks. Somehow, this feels somewhat…anticlimactic. He'd expected more from Peter, though he hadn't guessed at what the boy's opinion would be on it…but he hadn't reacted at all. It's as if it doesn't make a difference to him…which is honestly all that Arthur could have wanted from the boy. He just hadn't thought it would be that simple. He'd been sure that Peter would see him differently somehow. Arthur crosses his feet at the ankle in anxiousness, making sure to clutch his mug of chocolate tightly so as not to fidget with his hands.
"Well, I thought that since I felt that way about him that you might not want to be involved with it." Arthur stumbles over his words to his utter disdain, because he's just trying to be considerate of Peter's feelings on the matter, even if he doesn't really know what those feelings are. This is what he did with the rest of his siblings and he'd assumed to do it with Peter as well.
"What do you mean?" Peter asks. "That's silly." Arthur blinks. Silly?
The rest of the family didn't seem to think so.
"I like Alfred too!" Peter continues as if he doesn't notice Arthur's utter bewilderment. "And if you like him that much then that is even better! Then I'll get to see him a whole lot!" He notices that Peter's feet resume their kicking beneath the table. And just like that everything snaps back to normalcy. Peter's upbeat attitude, the atmosphere, their relationship as brothers. Nothing changed. Arthur laughs in utter relief, standing to scoop Peter up in his arms tightly. The boy squeaks in surprise, always startled at how Arthur can effortlessly hoist him from the ground. Arthur feels on the verge of tears. This could have gone so much worse.
"Bless you, Peter." Arthur fights to keep his voice steady, feeling his eyes begin to sting. He buries his face into Peter's shoulder. "I love you so much. Don't you ever forget that." Peter's arms fling around Arthur's shoulders and the boy hugs him tightly.
"I won't. I love you too, Artie!" It's the loveliest thing Arthur has ever heard.
Hey, this is Arthur.
Arthur has erased and rewritten that message eight times now. He's not sure what is a good first text to send to someone whom you'd like to go on a second date with sometime. After getting Peter's approval his normal anxiety rate is down maybe by twenty percent, but that still leaves the other eighty to contend with and while Arthur is sufficient at functioning through his own worrying nature, that doesn't mean it's easy. He nibbles at his lip, working better phrases and thoughts in his head.
Hey, this is Arthur. I wanted to see if you'd like to get coffee tomorrow?
Arthur stares at the message for a long moment. Would there be anything obvious that would get in the way? Alfred's already out of school and the only possibility that Arthur can think of is going to work but if that's the case then they could always pick a different day and –
Oh, who is he kidding? He is thinking way too hard about this. Arthur groans loudly in annoyance, shaking his head. Alfred is a teenaged boy interested in him. There is no reason that asking him for coffee should be so nerve wracking. Arthur scolds himself for being such a ninny, and punches send.
"Arthur!" The door slams open suddenly and Arthur yelps, nearly flinging himself from the edge of his bed.
"Gracious, Peter! Knocking! Knocking is polite for a reason!" The boy rolls his eyes, his mood not deterred.
"Sorry! Sorry!" He hops up onto the edge of Arthur's bed, waving a little paper in Arthur's face. "We never talked about it, but I wanna go!" Arthur recognizes the little pink paper as soon as he can take a moment to comprehend what Peter is exclaiming at him. Ah, right. Isabelle's party.
"Birthday party, right?" Arthur says it more rhetorically than anything else as he plucks the paper from Peter's hands. The date is elegantly written in cursive script, scheduled for the 20th, a slumber party. A phone number is beneath it, along with the address. "I'll phone her mother." Arthur concludes. "If you'd like me to see if you may stay the night." Peter grins.
"Can we get her a gift, too?!" Arthur smiles softly, rubbing Peter's back.
"Of course." Arthur's phone buzzes and his hand darts for it immediately. Peter's smirking and about to comment on it but Arthur's already got his phone unlocked and a finger held up to silence him so he could read the message.
sure
what time
Arthur smiles, checking the date. It's currently the 19th. Tomorrow is the 20th, so if they're going to go get the girl a gift, they'd have to either go today or tomorrow.
How about 10?
"Let me phone her mother." Peter fist pumps, exclaiming in excitement. Arthur dials the number, and after a few consecutive rings he's answered.
"Hello, Mrs. Thompkins?" Arthur asks in the primmest tone he possesses.
"This is she." The woman answers cheerily.
"Wonderful. My name is Arthur Kirkland. It seems my brother's been invited to a birthday party tomorrow. I was phoning to ask whether or not I should send him with his sleeping things." The woman on the other end laughs.
"Of course, dear!" She shifts the phone. "He's more than welcome. We've got separate rooms." Arthur smiles. He'd called for her preference, not really his. He couldn't care less if Peter slept in the same room with the girl or not. They're just ten, after all.
"Oh, well that's just marvelous." He answers, and Peter shoots him a warning look. "Well I will drop him by – oh what is it, noon?"
"That works perfectly!"
"Thank you, Mrs. Thompkins."
"Of course, Mr. Kirkland." Arthur checks his texts after he hangs up.
that works for me
ill see you then!
Perfect. I'll have to drop Peter off at a birthday party at noon. You're more than welcome to come if you'd like.
"Go pack yourself a sleeping bag, love." Peter leans in against Arthur's shoulder.
"Did you make fun plans, too?" Peter wiggles his eyebrows suggestively and Arthur scoffs.
"Mind your own business, prat."
"Rude!" Peter jestingly nudges Arthur's side. "You don't get name calling rights if I don't!"
"Yes, I do, actually." Arthur states matter of factly, standing up to rummage through one of his drawers.
"Says who?" Peter insists, kicking the bedframe absently.
"Says me." Arthur retorts.
"Who gave you that authority?"
"Seniority did." He pulls an old cellphone from his drawers. It's nothing fancy. Actually, it's for emergencies only. He hands it to Peter. "My phone number is in there. I want you to call me if anything remotely weird happens." Arthur eyes Peter very seriously. "I'll stop whatever I am doing to come pick you up, okay?" Peter takes the phone, and nods.
"Yes, sir." Arthur nods.
"Good. Now go get your shoes and we'll go pick her out a gift." Peter grins as Arthur's phone buzzes another time.
"Better answer it! I bet it's your booooyfriiiend!" Peter sings, and bolts out of Arthur's door as the elder hurls the closest article of clothing he can find at the boy.
sure thing!
mattie's left me all alone to suffer winter break
ill be glad for something to do
Arthur snorts. Yes, he would imagine it would get quite lonely in that big house all alone.
What's he done that for?
Arthur slips on his snow boots and shrugs on his coat as he follows Peter out the door.
"I'm so excited! I haven't been to a birthday party in a long time!" Peter yanks his hat over his head and Arthur follows suit, locking the door behind them.
"I'm happy you've made friends." Arthur says honestly, guiding Peter along with a gentle hand at his back.
"Me too!" Peter chirps, jumping to express his excitement. Arthur's phone buzzes in his pocket. He snatches it to check as they blunder out into the cold.
seems like he's got a new boyfriend
he hasnt been home in two days ; )
Arthur raises his brow, mulling on that for a minute. Matthew is gay, too? No wonder Alfred hadn't been shy.
That sounds lonely. Though sometimes I wish my brother would take a weekend vacation.
lol no your bro is cute af
Arthur snorts, and Peter looks up at him questioningly. As much as Peter embarrasses him, apparently his adorableness also is a good wingman tactic.
"What?" Peter asks innocently. Arthur shakes his head.
"What are you wanting to get her?"
Don't let that fool you. He sends back, stuffing his phone back in his pocket.
"Oh, that's a good question! Maybe a stuffed animal! She loves owls! Or maybe a sword!" Arthur laughs.
"A sword? Whatever for?"
"She said she wants to be a pirate when she grows up!" Peter exclaims. Arthur chuckles, stuffing his hands into his pockets.
"Well, she sounds like she's got an exciting life ahead."
"Uh-huh!" Peter agrees enthusiastically. "I wanna be a pirate too! Arr, matey!" Peter brandishes an imaginary sword, assuming the fencing stance and beating back an imaginary opponent.
"Well, I doubt pirates use proper fencing technique, Peter." Peter turns and sticks his tongue out.
"Well then I'll be the best pirate of all! Because I know how to fence!" Arthur rolls his eyes with a charmed smile.
"Right you are. The best pirate of them all. With the cutest lady pirate girlfriend." Peter's face turns a brilliant red, and he latches onto his hat to pull it further over his ears.
"I never said she was my girlfriend!"
"Well I guess you better work on that then." Peter doesn't reply.
There had been much debate on the girl's present. After going through several shops at the mall, Peter had begged and begged Arthur to allow him to build a bear at the build a bear workshop. It had become expensive really quickly, but since it was near Christmas Arthur's will to say no has been thoroughly impaired. Arthur had allowed the boy to build the girl a bear, and also dress it up like a pirate, since he had deemed that a fair compromise. By the time that they'd picked out wrapping paper for the cardboard home that came with the bear, Alfred had responded once more.
trust me theyre cuter when they arent your twin
Maybe until they get you to spend $40 on a stuffed bear for a birthday girl.
By the time they get home, Peter nearly vibrating with excitement, Alfred had replied another time.
peter sounds like hes got his priorities straight
He smirks as he sends: Well, he did learn from the best after all.
He and Peter spend the rest of their evening struggling to wrap the awkward box that the bear comes in, and then Arthur goes the extra mile to even wrap a big bow around the thing. It'll be an absolute pain in the ass to transport, but they'll get it done.
Peter had been less than excited to wake up early enough to go get coffee with he and Alfred, but Arthur didn't give the boy much of a choice. Peter was also forced to be the one to tote around the ridiculously sized gift since he was the one who insisted on getting it. Alfred had agreed to meet them around ten to get their coffee and then drive them to Isabelle's house since he's the only one with a car. Peter and he take the bus to the closest block and walk the rest of the way, Peter chattering away about how excited he is to go to Isabelle's party.
"What if we get to play pirates?" Peter skips ahead, looking quite ridiculous with the large box wrapped in the floweriest paper they could find. It's nearly his size.
"I imagine that will be the highlight of your evening, then." Arthur absently murmurs. His mind isn't all that focused on Peter's birthday party. Of course, he is happy for Peter, but his mind is focused on his own problems. Alfred, namely. Alfred, the high schooler with an obscene, and wholly, totally mutual crush on him. He's astounded. It's so rare that he find anyone who swings his way, and even more rare that person reciprocates feelings for him. Perhaps his shock is so profound because of his stifling upbringing, he can't know. He is absolutely delighted, though, to have found this boy; no matter that he is a bit on the young side. If he's being honest, it doesn't even matter to him that Alfred is American. Americans, per se, aren't the reason he'd been reluctant to get involved with them, but the fact that when he'd moved out here to university, he had planned on getting his degree and then shipping out back to England with Peter where he would get his own place with the boy and raise him as his own. But now he isn't so sure if he wants to head back home. If he does go back home the chances of his family goading him into seeing them are much higher; as the ocean wouldn't be stopping them. He's starting to get used to America, and the people here. Plus, Peter seems to be fitting in rather well, and he wouldn't want to drag the boy back to rainy old England just because he is feeling homesick.
Arthur pulls open the door to the coffee shop, the very one where he'd first seen Alfred. Hard to imagine that he'd be going on a date with him here a few months down the line. He and Peter take one of the few open tables, Peter setting his bear box on the seat beside him, leaving the only vacant seat next to Arthur. Peter smiles at him knowingly, chattering on and on about this birthday party while they wait for Alfred to arrive. Arthur isn't quite sure how Peter gets so excited about a little girl's party, but he's hardly going to be the one to snub out Peter's excitement with his own woes and troubles.
"Hey, hey, hey sorry I'm late!" Alfred's chair scrapes loudly across the floor but the sound is nearly drowned in the clamor of a coffee shop early in the morning. "That traffic was a doozy this morning!"
"Hey, it's okay! We've only been here ten minutes!" Peter exclaims.
"Do you guys know what you want?" Alfred flashes Arthur a blinding smile that makes all kinds of things in his chest tighten.
"Sure," Arthur says, "Peter what would you like today?"
"Hot chocolate!" Arthur smiles warmly at the boy.
"Alright, Peter, you hold our table while we go stand in line, okay?" Peter nods vigorously, kicking his feet back and forth.
"Aye, Aye!" He salutes them as the pair take their place in the bustling line.
"Peter seems rather excited this morning." Alfred chuckles, glancing back at the boy.
"Oh, all night." Arthur laughs. "He's been like that ever since he got invited. I suppose he has a bit of a crush on that girl."
"I think 'a bit' is an understatement." Alfred laughs.
"Well I ought to let him have his fun while he's still young."
"Well, you can still have fun too, Artie." Arthur's cheeks warm at that nickname. Curse Peter saying it in front of everyone. While he doesn't love the name, he will admit that it doesn't sound so bad coming out of Alfred's mouth.
"I'd like to see some proof of that." He quips back. Alfred only grins.
"We had fun ice skating." He says, inching slightly closer. Arthur takes note of it but pretends like he hadn't noticed.
"I suppose we did, yes." He feels Alfred's smile behind him, and the wall of warmth at his back. The line for their coffee inches up two people. Arthur stiffens in anticipation, his breath pressuring his lungs.
Alfred's fingertips brush Arthur's palm and he is washed with a paralyzing excitement. As if unsure of what to do, Alfred flattens his own hand against Arthur's before lacing his fingers through. It's a fight to force his own fingers to move, but he manages. Alfred's other hand rests gently atop his shoulder so the pair are standing front to back through the line. Arthur finds he doesn't much mind being guided like this, and gives Alfred's hand a quick squeeze. "What are your big plans for winter break?" Alfred presses closer, running his thumb over Arthur's hand.
"Nothing, so far." Alfred muses. "Our parents informed us that they won't be coming home quite yet, so we're on our own for Christmas this year."
"What is it your parents are doing that keeps them away from their children for so long?" Alfred heaves a sigh at this. Arthur guesses it's a touchy subject.
"Well, my mother is a traveling journalist and my father teaches English as a foreign language. They frequently have to leave the country for their jobs, but Mattie and I hated moving from place to place so mom set us up with a house and hired us nannies while they were away. But we haven't had a nanny in a long time." Arthur wonders how that's worked out, having your family so far away. Of course, he is happy to have his family be so distant, but not everyone, surely, can have as sour of a relationship with their parents as he.
"I see. How long have they been gone?" Alfred pauses to ponder this for a moment.
"I think since May."
"Oh, wow." Arthur mumbles. "I'm sorry to hear that." He feels Alfred shrug behind him.
"It's not a big deal. Really, we are used to them not being around. They send us money periodically and we facetime when they've got the time. I miss mom a little but, what can you do?" Alfred's sad laugh breaks Arthur's heart just a little.
"Well hopefully you'll get a phone call soon. "
"I'm sure we will!" Alfred's chipper attitude rebounds back as fast as it had gone. "So what about you? Got any fun family plans?" Arthur shakes his head.
"Afraid not. It's just Peter and I so there's nothing too exciting going on." He muses.
"Oh, where's the rest of your family?"
"They're all back in England." Arthur elaborates. "We're not very close."
"Hm." Alfred hums. "Well then we'll just have to keep each other busy!" Arthur smiles at that.
"That sounds lovely."
"Well, what are you doing after you drop Peter off?" Alfred asks, but before Arthur can answer they've reached the font of the line and it's time to order. "I'd like one americano, a medium hot chocolate, and – what would you like, Artie?" Arthur blinks, realizing that Alfred was buying his order as well. Normally he would protest but the line is waiting on them and he doesn't have the time to make a fuss.
"I – um, I'd like a small vanilla latte." He answers quickly, and before he can say anything else Alfred has handed the woman his card and they're being pushed toward the serving bar.
"You didn't have to buy that."
"Don't worry about it!" Alfred chimes. "It's just coffee!" The pair take their drinks back to the table where Peter is waiting with his kicking feet. Arthur has to shuffle into the seat next to the window and Alfred boxes him in on the outside leaving his left side cold from the window but his right warm from the heat radiating off of Alfred's body. Arthur sets Peter's hot chocolate in front of him and sips at his own latte gratefully.
"Delish!" Peter sings, licking the whipped cream from his upper lip. Alfred laughs at his little brother's antics whereas Arthur is unfazed. He supposes these small gestures of excitement are cute when you don't see them every day, but Peter's penchant for sweets has long past gotten on Arthur's nerves. He's had to fight the boy sneaking into the kitchen at night for treats, which eventually led to Arthur throwing out all their sweet things to control Peter's intake. "What did you get, Alfred?" Peter asks. Alfred smirks.
"You wanna try it?" He tips the cup toward the boy antagonizingly. Peter eyes it suspiciously, poking his lips out.
"I dunno." His big eyes slide over to Arthur. "Artie doesn't like me drinking coffee." Arthur snorts.
"You're surely right. But a sip won't hurt you. Plus, I don't have to deal with you on caffeine tonight so I couldn't care less." Peter sticks his tongue out at Arthur, before taking the offered cup from Alfred.
Only to choke on the drink immediately and swallow with a grimace.
"Ew!" Peter exclaims. "Ew,ew,ew!" He sticks his tongue out of his mouth to cool off. "What is that?!"
"Espresso and water." Alfred answers with a laugh. "Gotem!" Arthur chuckles at the disdain on Peter's face.
"You tricked me!" Peter proclaims, hugging his hot chocolate close. "And you were in on it!" Peter points accusatorily at Arthur, who laughs.
"Naturally. When would I pass up an opportune moment to tease you, dear brother?" Peter pokes his lip out with a pout.
"No fair." He whines. "You ganged up on me."
"Yeah, but it was funny." Alfred says, reaching over to ruffle Peter's hair. "So no harm done."
"Harm definitely was done!" Peter cries. "My taste buds are scarred for life."
"They could do with a little scarring." Arthur chimes in. "All those sweets are going to make you fat when you grow up." The trio continue joking until time to drop Peter off for the party, in which Alfred insists on driving them. Arthur really isn't complaining, considering that means less walking for him and Peter out in the cold, and more time spent with Alfred. The three pile into his old pickup, Peter in the back, and head toward Isabelle's neighborhood as they wait for the cab of the truck to warm. Alfred's radio is set to play country music, and Arthur can't help but chuckle at that.
"What?" Alfred implores. "You don't like my man Kenney Chesney?"
"I guess I never thought that you listened to this genre." Arthur explains.
"Well we can listen to something else!" He presses one of the pre-programmed buttons before Arthur can protest and Queen starts to play. "Can't go wrong with classic rock."
"That's true." Arthur agrees.
"Oh, so rock and roll is your speed?" Alfred asks, glancing at him from the corner of his eye.
"Well I-"
"Artie used to be a punk!" Peter chimes in, much to Arthur's chagrin.
"A punk?" Alfred asks, drawing his full gaze to Arthur for a moment with a smirk. His big blue eyes flick back to the road quickly though, which Arthur is grateful for considering he can't sit under that imploring gaze for too long without turning beet red.
"That was a long time ago." Arthur attempts to explain.
"His hair was green!" Peter continues. "And he had lots of ear holes!" Arthur pinches the bridge of his nose in exasperation, but Alfred seems to think it's bloody hilarious.
"Lots of ear holes, huh? What kind of bribe would I have to give to see photos?"
"A hefty one." Arthur chimes in before Peter can answer, crossing his arms. He's not really sure he even has many photos of himself from that time of life. His disappointed parents surely weren't taking any, and the only social media he'd had at that time was an outdated myspace and a facebook. It had been ages since he'd used either.
"I could maybe arrange that." Alfred says with a smirk, turning off onto Isabelle's road.
"If you think I can be bought easily, then you're kidding yourself." Arthur insists.
"Maybe not easily, but with the right offer." Arthur isn't sure he wants to know what Alfred means by that, or what mischievous little scheme he's coming up with.
It's easy to tell which house is Isabelle's, as there are about ten cars parked out front and the door is decorated in princess pink streamers, though Arthur does not miss the little pirate pin they hung beneath it. This girl seems interesting. Alfred waits in the truck to keep it warm while Arthur walks Peter up the drive. He plants a hand on Peter's back as he rings the doorbell, and the woman whom no doubt had picked up the phone answers the door.
"Yes, come in, come in." SHe ushers the pair through the front door with a bright smile. Their house smells like cookies and pizza, and is an explosion of pink streamers and pirate decorations. Children's laughter echoes down the hallway to his left, which is where the girl's mother starts shouting: "Isabelle, sweetheart! Peter is here!" Arthur smiles and kneels down to give Peter a tight hug.
"Have fun, Peter." Arthur tells him. "And don't forget to call me if you need anything."
"Yessir!" Peter shouts.
"Who are ye that trespass upon my ship?!" The unmistakable voice of Isabelle fills the room as Peter's gift is prodded with the blunt end of a fake sword. Peter's eyes get big for a moment, looking at the young girl sporting a fluffy pirate's hat and an eyepatch, but he regains himself fairly quickly.
"It is I, captain!" Peter exclaims. "Your first mate! Bringing news from the mainland!" The boy sets the large present down and shrugs off his backpack.
"News?" The captain asks. Peter nods, kicking his shoes off in the big pile the other children had left before the carpet.
"Dire news indeed, Ma'am!"
"You must tell me in the captain's quarters!" She demands. "No one else may hear!" The two rush down the hall to presumably Isabelle's room. Arthur chuckles, standing back up.
"Quite the pair they make." Isabelle's mother says with a laugh.
"Undoubtedly. Peter's been talking about this nonstop since I said he could come." The woman shakes his hand.
"Thank you for bringing him, Mr. Kirkland. I assure you he will be well taken care of." Arthur smiles at her.
"In case anything happens, here's my number. Phone me if I need to come get him." She nods politely, taking the small slip of paper from him. With that Arthur says his goodbyes and treks back out to Alfred's car.
"Would you like to spend the afternoon at my place?" He asks. Alfred quirks a brow, looking at him as if he's trying to decipher the meaning of life.
"Sounds good to me, dude." He answers, gesturing for Arthur to buckle up. "Lead the way."