A/N: A look at a younger Arthur from the 1981 movie "Arthur".

Gentleman's Gentleman

Nigel Hobson sat as stiff and upright as the chair that supported him. He was under great strain; his father had just passed away two weeks prior and it was up to him to support his aging mother. Having worked his way up through the ranks of service with various families back in his home country of England, he had stumbled upon an opportunity to become the butler and head of staff for the household of an American millionaire. It was a great chance, but he knew that competition for the position would be fierce.

He put down the New York Times where he had been reading about the country putting its first man into space; but as he looked at the pictures of the ticker tape parade, all he could think of was how difficult the cleanup would be. The newspaper was astounding in its variety of news; fashion (all of it wrong), sports (of no importance), politics (of no interest), crime (too far away from this neighborhood) and finance. It was there that he had read about the family with whom he was interviewing - The Bach family. Worth millions, they had a small family fortune and their own business building. As he sat in their drawing room, he drummed his fingers nervously.

"Are you playing a piano in your head?" a small voice asked him from one side of the room. He turned his attention in that direction and saw a small boy sitting behind a large plant.

"I beg your pardon?"

"Your fingers are moving. Are you imagining playing the piano?"

Self-consciously, Hobson pulled his hands back. "No. It's a nervous habit."

The young boy stood up and walked over to him. He was dressed in fine clothes, but they were askew and a bit wrinkled. "Why are you nervous?"

Hobson really didn't want to go into the details, so he summarized the situation. "I'm interviewing for an important position."

The boy seemed to consider this for a moment. "I shall play something to help you relax." The boy cheerfully traipsed toward a piano that sat in the corner.

"That is really quite alright..." Hobson said in an attempt to head him off "...I've no desire to hear 'Chopsticks' played at the moment." He really wasn't in the mood. The boy ignored the comment and sat at the piano and immediately began to play. And play he did - Hobson was astonished at the beauty of the music. It was Chopin's Nocturne, and the boy never stumbled or missed a note. He played for several minutes before stopping and walked back to Hobson, sitting on a chair beside him. "You played that very well," the adult told the boy.

"Thank you. Was it calming?"

"Yes, as a matter of fact. Your friends must like your playing very much."

"I don't have any friends."

Hobson was taken back. "Everyone should have friends. Do you have any brothers or sisters?"

"No. Just my father, grandmother Martha and some aunts and uncles. My name is Arthur," the boy said, sticking out his hand.

The hopeful valet took the hand solemnly. "And my name is Hobson. I hope to be employed by your family as a gentleman's gentleman."

"My father says he needs a valet at home since the last one left, but I don't know if he needs a gentleman. He has a building named after him. Well, it's named after my grandfather, really. Do you have a building named after you?"

"No. My great grandfather by the name of Outhouse had a building named after him, though." Hobson watched Arthur's face closely when he said this. He was rewarded after a moment with a laugh as the boy got the joke.

"I like you, Hobson - you're fun. I hope you get the job, but they don't ask me about it."

"That's because since they are hiring the person, they get to say. That's only fair and proper. Did you like the last person in the position?"

"I didn't meet him. I've spent a lot of time at boarding schools, so I'm not home very much."

"Were some of the schools in England?"

"Yes!" Arthur exclaimed. "How did you know?"

"We both have English accents because we both have spent a great deal of time in England. I grew up there, and you've been going to school there. If you live in a place a long time, it's easy to start speaking in the same manner as the people around you."

"I see," the boy said, his brow furrowed in thought for a moment. "So if I live here a long time, I'll start speaking like New York people."

"Regrettably, yes. But there are different places in New York where people murder the English language in their own way, so there may be hope for you yet. My father had a different accent than my mother, and they both came from London."

"I'm ten," Arthur announced, changing the subject. "How old are you?"

"Much older."

"My father is older too, but not as much as you, I think. Does your father take care of you still?"

This boy had a lot of questions. Hobson wasn't a teacher or a parent, but he always believed in tactfully speaking his mind and answering frankly; not only that, but he liked the boy for some reason. "My father is deceased. I take care of my mother though, by sending her money when I can." How did that come out? He was slipping to let any of his personal affairs be known - it wasn't professional - but dash it, the boy had asked.

"My mother died when I was young, but I have a grandmother. I bet it's nice to have a mother."

"It is, at least if she's one of the good ones." Hobson smiled at the boy and the expression was returned.

Arthur jumped up from his chair. "I don't care if they listen to me or not; I am going to tell them that you should get the job. Will you be my friend if you get the job?"

"Being a friend is a serious thing, Arthur. It means that you care for the person, trust them, and can talk over your problems with them. You should never take such a thing lightly. Besides, what if I don't get the position? Does that mean I wouldn't make a good friend?"

Arthur thought about this a long time, humming, until he responded. "If a father is a father even when you don't seem him very often, then a friend should be a friend for the same reason. If my father doesn't hire you, I shall probably not see you again. But I think you would be a good friend."

"Thank you, Arthur. I think you would be good friend, too. But let's see how my interview goes; agreed?"

Arthur stuck out his hand. "Agreed." Both shook hands. "I shall now tell my father what I think," the boy said as he walked towards what probably was his father's office. At the door, he paused as he turned towards Hobson while grinning. "We're going to have some fun. Do you know how to play hide and seek?"

"You can teach me."

Arthur laughed, then knocked on the door and waited until there was a response; he entered and shut the door behind him.

The End

A/N: There are at least four movies with the title "Arthur" (including a remake), but this is the only one I've seen. I saw the category and wanted to have something for this particular film.

I'm usually not too keen on characters that spend much of their time drunk; but there was something still likeable about Arthur, and his relationship with Hobson was the highlight of the film for me.

But that theme song was EVERYWHERE.