AN: I wrote this while working on the next chapter, but it wouldn't fit in, but I liked it too much to just cut. so I'm posting it anyway. I should have the next chapter done by Friday.

Arthur Kirkland and the Job

Extra: Granger Family History

1553

"The fall should have killed you." the boy said bluntly retaining his calm despite the shock he'd received. His clever dark brown eyes were round with shock and awe, but his handsome features worn from hard work equal parts curious and suspicious. England, who was still recovering from his rapidly healing snapped neck, silently cursed his foolishness as the flush of embarrassment still lingered on his pale features. He'd been in such a hurry to get to Mary's said when he heard of her location and the gathering army in the true queens support he'd been reckless and his horse had startled throwing him as it twisted a leg. The horse would heal, but now he was stuck explaining to this child who was no older than fifteen, why the well dressed nobleman he'd seen almost lifeless on the ground was up and moving.

"I have no time to explain this to you lad. I have to get to Her Majesty. We don't have much time. Forces are moving against our Queen." England snapped impatiently. The boy calmly picked up the ax he'd dropped when England fell and straightened pulling himself to his full height, only slightly taller than England, his eyes going black in seriousness and clear warning.

"I'm not letting you get anywhere near Queen Mary, until you explain that my Lord, because only a witch or demon could recover so quickly from such a wound. If you are not such a creature and a true blooded Englishman you'll understand why I can not allow a creature like that near Her Majesty." the boy growled, impressing England with both his eloquence and loyalty to his sweet Princess, now queen, who was finally to come into the legacy Katherine had left her.

"You speak well for a peasant." England noted out loud slowly getting to his feet. The boy didn't waver, speaking coldly in turn.

"The priest was a friend of my mother and made sure I learned my letters and how to speak. Now answer my question what are you? Englishman or creature?" the boy demanded tightening his grip on the ax.

"As English an Englishman as it is capable to be." England told him, amused by the boy's threats even as he was impatient to leave so he could be at Mary's side. "In fact I am England."

The boy instantly relaxed and actually smiled. He looked relieved. "That's good to know my lord. You had me terrified you were something otherworldly. Mum has a horse in the barn. She was my Dad's during his soldier days, but Dad's dead and we'd be happy to lend her to you for the Queen. Bessie is old, but she's reliable."

England starred a few moments at the boy's smiling dirty face. Normally it took forever to explain to his citizens what exactly he was even if they felt the instinctual draw to him. He caught himself though and regained his composure. "Thank you lad,you may have Heart for your services to God and country."

The boy looked at the horse, which was worth far more than he'd make in a lifetime even when injured, and shook his head, clearly overwhelmed. "No my lord I couldn't. It's just the right thing to do is all."

"I insist lad, and enough of this my lord, you my call me by my christian name, Arthur." England told him liking the boy even more and clamping a reassuring hand on his shoulder. "now come I need to get to Her Majesty."

The boy nodded weakly, gently helping the horse along behind them. After a few moments of quiet he spoke though. "I'll keep her if you insist my lo—I mean Arthur, even if I'm not worthy of such a noble beast, but I'll have to insist you call me by my name."

"Which is?" England questioned smiling at the boy's audacity. He looked at England with intelligent dark eyes and spoke with solemnly.

"Arthur Granger."

England laughed. But couldn't resist asking, "why did you believe me so easily Arthur?"

The boy looked a little surprised. But when he spoke there was a hint of amusement in his smile. "Why because my Grandmum never stops talking about the charming young blonde soldier she met under King Henry's reign who she swore up and down was England itself."

…

1567

"That shot should have killed you, Captain." the young sailor said looking at England with curious brown eyes.

England was filled with an odd sense of just having the exact same encounter. He was saved from answering though from the boy's rather clumsy administrations to his wound. England let loose a vile string of curses, which the solemn faced youth easily ignored his intelligent eyes watching as his usually nimble hands, England had seen the boy work, worked to bandage him. When they'd finished England could see a Spanish ship burning as it sunk and grinned with malicious glee. There was something so satisfying in being her Majesty's Personal Pirate. Or as the Spanish called him Capitán de infierno Kirkland. Hell Captain Kirkland they called him. It mad him laugh at the terror his name inspired in Spain's people.

"You're England aren't you?" the boy questioned bluntly, making England jump and then curse again at the pain that tore in his side.

How had the boy known? England wondered stunned and distracted by his triumph despite the stray bullet. He couldn't remember what the Ship's Boy's name was, he'd only been treating England because the physician had been killed during the taking of the ship and he'd been the only one on board with any medical knowledge because he'd assisted Dr. Saylor. It had been a shame to burn the prize ship, but England and his men had been enraged by the good doctor's death. He didn't look forward to bringing the news to his widow with her daughters and infant son, who'd been named after England. Dr. Saylor had been a friend of England's even before he'd volunteered to join his ship and his grief over his friend had made him savor this particular fire more than others. Now he would have to deal with boy who apparently knew too much.

"How do you know boy?" England asked tiredly, as much as he enjoyed the burning blood that always raise din him when taking a ship he'd need to deal with the prisoners soon and as fun as harassing Spain's people were he didn't look forward to telling his men to keep away from the now widowed pregnant ship captain's wife and all her pretty daughters. England was still a gentleman after all, deep, deep down somewhere.

"My name's Joseph Granger."

…

1642

The First English Civil War.

"I'm Mark Granger."

These Grangers were really annoyingly persistent, England thought drily.

…

1690

Battle of the Boyne.

"Harry Granger, my Lord, and don't worry dad said not to worry over much if I saw a slender blonde lord with bright green eyes get mortally wounded. I'll just get you some fresh clothes so you can be presentable when His Majesty comes looking for you."

A cheeky Granger, that was something new England thought to himself amused.

…

After that he lasted a long time before he encountered another Granger.

…

1777

"My God! The family stories are true! You really do exist!" the soldier shouted looking at England dumbly as he pulled a bayonet from his chest. England flinched at the pain and the blood flowing onto his shirt. That was his favorite shirt dammit.

"Yes, I exist, now shut up unless you want to bring the rabble on us." England snapped and the boy's mouth closed with an addible snap. England through the pale boy, child really. He couldn't be more than fifteen, how he'd managed to sneak over was beyond him. "They really aren't making Grangers like they used to. Even Arthur did not react like that and he was convinced I was a demon bent on devouring queen Mary's soul."

The boy blushed and quietly helped him up, passing him the bandages as the embarrassment clung around him and his pale pink face. He had the eyes though, England noticed. Those dark brown Granger eyes.

"So what is you name?" England asked when they finally made their way back into the camp. The thus quiet boy jumped and looked at him with thinly hidden mortification. "Come now it cannot be that bad."

"Britannia Arthur Granger." the boy said with a grimace. "Mum thought it was patriotic."

England bought the boy a drink later for laughing at the very patriotic naming skill of his mother.

…

After that it was nearly a century and a half before he met another of the family that always stumbled upon his secret.

…

1918

England cursed himself to the lowest pits of hell for his stupidity. The day before the damn war ends and he gets shot and forced into the hospital. It wasn't helping that America had looked so damn amused under all the uncharacteristic worry. Because England couldn't get shot somewhere normal, no he had to get shot right in the ass. And to make matters worse his doctor had suspicious dark brown eyes. It was only a matter of time and he knew it. Sure enough a few hours later the man showed up looking agitated and stubborn. A man on a mission for answers.

"I'm the human personification of the United Kingdom. If you have any questions tell your superiors that Arthur Kirkland, codename Scones, sent you." England told him tiredly and closed his eyes on the mustached man's familiar eyes. "I am going to sleep."

After a few minutes footsteps signaled Rory Granger's departure. England smiled to himself it was almost good to see a Granger again.

…

1944

The first thing England did when he saw the eager dark brown eyes of the fresh off the boat and new to the battlefield Arthur Granger was drag the boy, well to him, he was really a man at twenty-five,and explain his family legacy to him and point blank forbid him to tell anyone who he was. Then England caught up on the news of the Granger family and more specifically how Rory was doing.

…

1979

England hadn't really expected to be hit with a car that day, but apparently fate and John Granger had different plans. It had taken most of the ride to the hospital to convince him that England was perfectly fine physically and mentally. His wife had certainly helped, telling him of the charming man her mother had been courted by before leaving France to marry her father. Jean was a rather good woman for someone half French. John though had insisted the doctor check him out while he rushed his in labor wife to the delivery room. England have of course been fine and actually gotten to hold the newest Granger. He'd always liked the name Hermione.