Step 10: Pick a Card, Any Card . . . Is It the 2 of Hearts?
The morning light screamed into Arthur's room, making his head ache, his stomach feel queasy, and his eyes hurt. Why the bloody hell does this happen every time I get ratted at parties? he thought as his stomach fought with his head for attention. He covered his eyes with his right arm. Shut up, stupid sunlight! I heard you already.
Arthur rolled over in bed, onto his left side, away from the window and noticed that he made a metallic "Clink" noise when he did. He also became aware that his left wrist didn't feel very comfortable. It felt like it was being squeezed by something. He held up his left arm and stared at the source of the earlier sound.
The handcuff encircling his wrist slowly slid down his arm. When the blinking hell did this . . .? he wondered through the haze of hangover and sleepiness. Why can't I remember? Did I really drink that much?
Arthur felt some warmth against his arm and saw someone else was attached to the other half of the handcuffs and that person's right hand was lying against his arm. He glanced at the owner of the hand. A snatch of what looked like longish blond hair was all he could see from under the covers.
Panic filled Arthur's mind as he quickly looked down at the rest of his body: Still fully clothed in his police uniform . . . and someone had pulled a blanket up over him. Okay, it's not France, he thought, letting out a sigh of relief. Then who? He set down his left arm and pulled back the blanket with his right hand.
"It's cold Artie." America stirred slightly and then snuggled closer to Arthur. "Jeez, you wake up too early . . ." The nation next to Arthur drifted back to sleep and started to snore softly.
That's right, I remember now, Arthur mused as the memory of what had happened last night rushed back.
"Nice vork, Francis!" Prussia had said after France had handcuffed Arthur and Alfred/Amelia together. "Although I vould hafe 'pantsed' England and taken a pic vith my cell for blackmail."
France had nodded. "I sot about zat, but none of us had brought our phones to ze party with us."
"You bloody wanker! Y'know these're real, right?" Arthur had said, still feeling drunk from earlier.
France had smiled drunkenly and nodded. "Oui. I know. I have a police outfit for my job as well."
Arthur knew the question was redundant, but he asked it all the same to emphasize how stupid France had just been. All of the nations had some form of law enforcement or emergency services disguise that they could wear when they needed to be near their "boss" but couldn't wear plain-clothes or a suit or their military uniform. To make sure they didn't stand out from the regular troops, police officers, fire fighters or whatever else they were posing as, everything on the outfit was 100% authentic. Police uniforms, for example, were equipped with handcuffs, weapons, badges with official "names" and numbers, and all the other necessary items.
Arthur realized too late, as he looked at the handcuffs now attaching him to the still-unconscious Alfred/Amelia, that he'd outfitted his "costume" with almost everything before leaving his room. He crimsoned when he remembered the reason he'd been so distracted that he'd forgotten to leave the equipment behind: She had walked in on him while changing, and he'd hurried to finish just in case she decided to barge in on him again.
"Angleterre, what's with zat expression?" France moved into his line of vision. "Are you sinking of somezing I would like to join in on?" The perverted nation grinned.
"Listen, you manky plonker," Arthur said as he maneuvered Alfred/Amelia so that she was leaning against him and so that he could wrap his non-handcuffed arm around her. "I don't have any fantashies involving you, sho . . . this party's done. Clear out everybody!"
The other nations started to file out of the ballroom, some of them murmuring complaints. "Sheesh, it's not even midnight yet," Australia whined. "I was hoping this party would have lasted a bit longer."
Spain walked over to the group and took in the scene. "You know, mi amigo," he said to France. "If you really wanted revenge, how come you didn't handcuff yourself to Inglaterra? That's what I woulda done."
"Merde! Release zose from each ozer at once." France grabbed Alfred/Amelia's handcuffed wrist and tried to undo it.
"Dammit you wine bashtard. Leggo!" Arthur said, jerking his arm (and her arm) away.
France held out his hand. "Give me ze keys zen."
"Even if I had them on me, which I don't, why would I bloody give 'em to you?" Arthur stated.
France grabbed Arthur's arm and started shaking it, causing him to almost lose his grip on the comatose nation in his arms and wince as the handcuff rubbed his skin.
"Shtop it, damn Frog! That hurts!"
"Maybe I can shake you loose," France stated, ignoring him and shaking Arthur's arm harder, which caused both him and Alfred/Amelia to shake as well.
"Shtop it! I'm gonna throw up!" Alfred/Amelia woke from her stupor long enough to punch France in the nose with her free hand before passing out again.
France fell backwards onto the floor, and then he clutched his face. "Damb Ambérique! I sink she broke mby nose!"
"You deserved it," Arthur said as he tightened his grip around Alfred/Amelia and smiled.
Spain helped France up as he shouted curses at both Arthur and Alfred/Amelia, and they both left the room while Prussia helped a semi-conscious Canada out of the room. The room got eerily quiet, and Arthur realized he was all alone in the ballroom. He was forced to struggle with Alfred/Amelia as he carried the unconscious nation carefully up the stairs and down the hall to his room.
By the time he reached his room, Arthur was nearly exhausted. He half-carried, half-dragged Alfred/Amelia across the room towards the writing desk where he kept the handcuff key. He'd almost reached the desk when she came to.
"Cut it out, Artie, you're hurting my feet!" she said as she stood upright. She glanced around the room. "Where're my shoes?"
"You left 'em downshtairs."
"'Kay . . . Bedtime then." She started walking towards Arthur's bed.
He winced as she pulled against the handcuffs and they pinched his skin. "America! We're still attached!"
Alfred/Amelia stopped and turned to stare at the restraints. Then she looked up at Arthur and grinned. "Artie, you pervert. Didn't know you were into that kinda stuff. But if that's what y'want . . . Okay, I'm game." Before he could protest, she bent over and scooped Arthur up over her shoulder.
"Put me down!" Arthur demanded, suddenly feeling very sober. He felt his face grow hot as if it had ignited into a sudden burst of flames.
Alfred/Amelia ignored him and continued to walk over to the bed. "Wow. This is hard when you're handcuffed." She tossed him on the bed and the action pulled her with him as he landed solidly in the middle of the bed. "Ows. That hurted," she said, rubbing her nose with her left hand after she'd landed on top of him.
She looked up at him, and her smile returned to her face. Arthur scrambled backwards away from her, a futile action since they were still handcuffed together. She was pulled right along with his retreat. Alfred/Amelia grabbed his free arm, stopping his backward motion. She pushed him down and straddled him, pinning him to the bed.
"S-s-s-stop this right now!" Arthur said as the heat from his face traveled downward, enveloping his entire body. The tingling this stimulated, for some reason, kept him from being able to move all of a sudden.
Alfred/Amelia smiled slyly as she removed the equipment belt that was over the tunic/jacket and flung it on the floor next to the bed. The rest of the police equipment clattered as it hit the floor, and Arthur felt grateful he hadn't accidentally attached his firearm with the rest of it.
"W-w-what are you doing?" he asked weakly, trying to pull himself out of his stupor. "Stop it America . . . You're drunk."
Alfred/Amelia grinned down at him. With her handcuff-free left hand, she grabbed his police cap and placed it on her head, then grabbed the hem of his tunic/jacket. "No. You're drunk. You know what I'm doin', silly England," she said drunkenly as she forcefully lifted the tunic/jacket over Arthur's head. When she realized she couldn't get it past the handcuffs, she tugged it back down. "Dang it." She looked down at his trousers and smiled.
"No you don't!" Arthur said, regaining control of his body and smacking her hand away so she couldn't undo his trousers' belt. He used the handcuffs to his advantage and jerked both their hands away from them.
"C'mon Artie! I'm jusht making us more comfy before we go to shleep." She looked as if she suddenly understood something and smiled wider. "Unless you had shomething else in mind, you naughty boy . . ." She tossed away his police cap and leaned in closer to Arthur while reaching up to loosen his tie with her left hand.
"S-s-stop it!" Arthur protested, halting her forward motion by grabbing her shoulders. Arthur felt his heart skip a beat when he saw that he'd stopped her face just 15 centimeters* away from his own.
Alfred/Amelia looked into Arthur's eyes with a serious expression on her face. She moved her hand away from his tie and gently stroked her fingers down his cheek and across his lips. "You mean you've never thought about doing something like this if you had the chance?" She let her fingertips linger on his lips as she smiled slightly and continued to look into his eyes.
Arthur forgot how to breathe for a moment; his lips tingled against her fingertips, and then he felt his heart rate and breathing quicken and his head feel light like he was floating. He was unable to resist as Alfred/Amelia moved his hands away from her shoulders and leaned in closer until their faces were mere 8 centimeters* away. "I . . . what are you saying?" he replied finally, looking away before she could get any closer to his mouth. "Stupid git . . . you're . . . we're both drunk . . . besides, we're just friends."
"Are we now. . ." Alfred/Amelia whispered in his ear.
Arthur felt his ear grow hot as he felt her breath against it. His heart pounded in his ears when he felt the weight of her entire body press against his own body.
When nothing happened after that, Arthur turned back to look at her. She had fallen asleep again, this time on top of his chest. He had stared for a moment at the unconscious nation who was snoring quietly, still straddling him.
He then had pushed her off onto the bed next to him and flopped back onto the bed as he had tried to catch his breath while staring up at the canopy on the poster-bed. Arthur had tried to imagine lying on the beach near the cool ocean to calm himself down, and the next thing he remembered was waking up that morning.
The morning light illuminated Alfred/Amelia's face as Arthur watched her sleep. He pulled the blanket up over her shoulder. This is the one I keep at the foot of the bed. She must have woken up earlier and pulled it up over us. Arthur let out a small laugh. She never did like being cold.
Alfred/Amelia must have felt his gaze because she stirred and stretched. She opened her eyes and smiled at him.
Arthur felt his heart skip a beat at the eye-contact.
"Good Morning, Artie . . . Ugh, my head hurts . . ." She blocked the sunlight with her handcuff-free hand and frowned. "And my mouth tastes awful. I didn't hurl, did I?"
Arthur shook his head.
Alfred/Amelia noticed the handcuffs and stared at them for a minute. "Artie, when did this—?"
"France. Last night," Arthur interrupted. "You don't remember what happened?"
"Nah . . . maybe . . . I had a weird dream." She scratched her head. "I was singing and dancing on a table or something, and then I climbed off the table and took my high-heel shoe from a mouse. After that, I rubbed myself up against Han Solo, flirted with a Chinese vampire, then ruffled a butler's hair, kissed a fox, and sat on a policeman's lap, which got me arrested."
"That would be Russia, Australia, China, Hong Kong, Japan, and me, in that order, and that wasn't a dream."
Her eyes grew wide, and she sat up. The handcuffs made a "Clink" with the motion. "I made a fool of myself, didn't I?" she moaned.
Arthur laughed and nodded.
"Shoot. This is why I don't let myself get hosed like that," she groaned. "Happened once with Mattie and Katyusha once, and I had to apologize for a month after that."
Arthur tried not to think of what America would need to apologize to Canada and Ukraine for that would require that much apologizing.
"I wanna brush my teeth," she said, climbing off the bed and dragging Arthur, involuntarily, with her. "My mouth feels like crap." She walked over to Arthur's adjoined bathroom, opened his bathroom cabinet, and started digging around in it.
"What are you doing?" Arthur asked, feeling irritated at this invasion of privacy.
"Aha. Here it is." She held up a new toothbrush, still in its packaging. She quickly unwrapped it and stuck it in her mouth before Arthur could protest. She pulled it out and squeezed toothpaste on it, then started brushing her teeth with her left hand. Arthur sighed and grabbed his own toothbrush, following her example.
She stopped brushing for a moment to close the bathroom cabinet's door. When she saw herself in the mirror, Alfred/Amelia's mouth dropped open. "Ardie, wha'de fhell . . ."
The toothbrush fell into the basin.
Arthur grabbed it and set it on the basin's counter-top. He rinsed his mouth and then his toothbrush before putting it away. "Don't talk when you have something in your mouth. I can't understand a bloody thing you say when you do that."
A bit of toothpaste foam dribbled down her chin as Alfred/Amelia continued to stare open-mouthed at herself in the mirror.
"That's disgusting!" Arthur grabbed a hand towel quickly off a towel rail and wiped her mouth. "Rinse already!"
Alfred/Amelia numbly did as she was told and grabbed the towel away from Arthur to dry her mouth.
He took the towel back and threw it in a nearby laundry basket. "Now. What's the matter?"
When she made eye contact with him, her eyes were slightly wet from tears that were starting to leak out. Arthur felt his heart leap to his throat, and he instinctively reached out to embrace her.
"Artie, I . . . I'm still a woman. Wasn't I supposed to have changed back at midnight?"
Arthur stopped reaching for her and blinked. That's right. She should have turned back by now. He let out a sigh. "Bollocks. Looks like I'll need to try calling Ceridwen again."
"Who's Ceridwen?" Alfred/Amelia asked, narrowing her eyes.
Arthur noticed that her tone sounded a little scary for some reason. "She's the white witch I got the spell from."
"Oh . . . I knew it! I knew this magic was too good to be yours," she said.
"Just one bloody minute!" Arthur protested, feeling irritated. "My magic made the spell work; I just used her incantation. Besides, if you hadn't interrupted me in the middle of the spell, this never would have happened."
"So it's my fault I'm still a chick? !" Alfred/Amelia said. "I can't go home like this, y'know, it'll freak out my boss . . . actually, I might be able to get away with more, now that I think about it. He's got a soft spot for women." She stopped to think about the possibilities for a moment. "Wait. No! That's not the point. I can't be a chick! None of the other nations will take me seriously like this!" She started biting her nails on her handcuff-free left hand.
"That really won't be a problem," Arthur said quietly. "Most of them already didn't take you seriously when you were a guy."
"Huh? What did you just say?" she asked, looking up from her fingernails.
"I said 'Let's get these handcuffs off first, and then we'll take care of getting you back to a guy'," Arthur lied. "I keep the keys in the desk in my room."
He guided her over to the writing desk in his room and started digging through the drawers in it. Where did I put the key? He found it after a minute and turned to face Alfred/Amelia. He noticed her cheeks were pink. "Why are you blushing?"
She looked at the floor, then back at him. "I slept in your bed last night."
Arthur shrugged. "So? You've done that a lot of times before."
"But we were both guys then."
Arthur sighed, feeling slightly irritated again. "Do you have a point here?"
"Well . . ." Alfred/Amelia scratched her head. "I really don't remember anything after singing on the table. You didn't try anything, did you?"
Arthur felt his irritation turn to insulted anger. "What kind of a pervert do you take me for? !" I would never take advantage of a young lady when she's inebriated!"
Alfred/Amelia looked sheepish. "Sorry, but you were drunk too, weren't you? I mean I've seen you get drunk pretty easily, and if what I drank got me totally hosed, then . . ." Her eyes grew wider, and her face appeared to get slightly paler. "Wait. I didn't do anything, did I?" she asked, panic rising in her voice.
Arthur tried again not to imagine what had happened to Canada and Ukraine and resisted the urge to ask. "I clearly remember what we both did last night. Nothing happened."
He looked down and inserted the key in his half of the restraints. It clicked in the lock, and the handcuff easily slipped off. Arthur started thinking about what had happened the previous night, and he felt his cheeks and ears grow warm. He bit his lip and hoped Alfred/Amelia didn't read too much into his flushed expression.
"Really? Cool." She let out a sigh of relief. "Guess I only need to apologize to Jack, Yao, Leon, and Kiku then§."
Arthur nodded, not looking up, as he grabbed Alfred/Amelia's right hand and unlocked her handcuff. He noticed that her knuckles looked a little bruised. He removed her restraint, set the handcuffs on the desk, and examined her hand. "How did you hurt your right hand? You punched France in the nose with your left hand."
"I did? Wow. I really don't remember doing that," she said. "This must be from when I punched Gil yesterday when he . . . ahem . . . He really does have a hard head, y'know?"
Arthur grabbed her left hand and studied it as well; the knuckles were also slightly bruised. "We should get some ice on these," he said, resisting the urge to "kiss it better" like he used to when America was younger.
"Nah. I'm fine."
"You're not fine!" he countered, turning over her right hand to check out her wrist. "Let me see how your wrist looks." It was slightly red where the handcuff had been. "You need to be more careful. You may be just as strong before but now you're . . . softer." He marveled at how small and thin her wrists looked and felt compared to his.
Alfred/Amelia jerked her hands out of Arthur's grip. "I said it's fine!"
"Why are you being so stubborn?" Arthur said, looking up at her.
Alfred/Amelia's cheeks were a dark pink, and the rest of her face was a light pink. "I do take care of myself," she said, looking away. "You're just overreact— Grooooowl!" Her face turned bright red, and she covered her stomach. "Eh heh, I'm starving Artie," she said, looking back at him.
Arthur smirked. "I noticed. Should we go get some breakfast? Chef Gordon is still scheduled to cook one more breakfast."
Alfred/Amelia shook her head. "I don't want anyone to see me until we fix this," she said, pointing at her body.
"Well, I don't have anything to eat up here."
Alfred/Amelia walked over to Arthur's bedside table where his cell phone was sitting and dialed someone's number. "Hey Mattie? It's me, Al. Can you ask Chef Ramsay to make a breakfast for me?" she asked after someone picked up on the other line. "Nah. Nothing special. You know what I like."
She listened for a moment. "Yeah. Exactly! I knew you had good taste." She glanced over at Arthur. "Oh yeah. Have him make enough for two, please?. . . yup . . . and could you bring it up to Artie's room, pwetty please?"
Alfred/Amelia listened to her brother for a few moments and blushed at Matthew's response. "No I'm not— no, we didn't do that! That's not why!"
Arthur guessed what Canada had said and felt his cheeks grow warm in response.
"You're a pervert, Mattie, you know that? You sure take after France. The reason I need you to bring it up to Artie's room is because I'm still a girl, and I don't want anyone to see until Artie fixes it!" She listened for a moment more and nodded. "Thanks Bra. Also, don't tell anyone I'm still a chick, 'kay? . . . Thanks." She hung up Arthur's phone and put it back on the bedside table, then crawled back onto the bed.
Arthur walked over to the bed. "Oi. Don't sleep in. You've already gotten up."
Alfred/Amelia snuggled into the pillow. "Yeah, yeah. Just give me 10 minutes," she said, shifting to get comfortable. The skirt of the flapper-style dress moved up with the movement until it revealed her thighs.
Arthur looked away as he felt his heart palpitate at the view. He grabbed the blanket they had over themselves the night before and pulled it over her before the skirt could reveal anything higher up. Trying to reposition the skirt would only cause misunderstandings.
She turned to look at him. "Thanks Artie. You remembered that I hate getting cold."
"Y-y-yeah."
"Could ya wake me up when Mattie brings the food?" She snuggled into the pillow, fluffing it slightly as she did.
"Wait, you're really going back to sleep?"
Alfred/Amelia shifted to face him. "Duh. Unless you can think of a way to fix this."
Arthur thought for a moment, and a memory of the night before yesterday came into his mind. "Well, I just remembered that the witch's ca . . . assistant transformed me when she kissed me. Maybe it's that simple of a solution. We could try and see if it turns you back."
Alfred/Amelia propped herself up on the bed. "How do I know the whole kissing thing's the truth?" she asked, looking incredulous.
"Why would I lie?" Arthur countered, feeling his face flush a little.
She smirked. "Because you want to kiss me?"
Arthur felt his face grow hotter. "Why the bloody hell would I want to kiss you? ! I swear it's the truth. I wouldn't have even suggested it otherwise!"
Alfred/Amelia shrugged, sat all the way up, and patted the space in front of her. The blanket slumped around her thighs. "Guess it's worth a shot. Let's hurry up and get this over with, Artie."
Arthur climbed on the bed and faced her. A wave of nervousness swept over him. What on earth? Stop reacting like this; it's just America.
Alfred/Amelia got into a kneeling position in front of him, scooted closer, reached out, and then hesitated as if she didn't know where to put her hands. She blushed and looked nervous. "Ah, hell," she said finally, laughing and putting her hands on her lap. "I'll just lie back and think of England." She closed her eyes and waited.
Arthur blinked. "What did you just say?"
Alfred/Amelia opened her eyes and laughed. "It's an expression I heard on a TV show or movie I watched a little while ago. Some Victorian girl was getting married, and she was all nervous about it, and her mom said something like, 'You don't need enjoy it, darling. Just lie back and think of England.'"
She watches Victorian-era pieces? Arthur thought. Wait . . . did she just say what I think she said?
"Bet it must have been pretty embarrassing to have all those Victorian girls thinking of you when they were . . ." Alfred/Amelia continued. She stopped and blushed. "Well, my point was I'm only doing this because I haven't been given any other choices." She looked at Arthur and let out a small laugh.
Is she making fun of me or teasing me? Arthur felt slight indignation rising inside. I don't like the condescending tone that laugh had.
"You're probably not even a good kiss—" Arthur grabbed her before she could finish her comment and kissed her full on the mouth.
"Mmmm! . . . Mmmmm," she purred as wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him back. He wrapped his arms around her waist. Fireworks seemed to explode all around them. When their lips finally parted, she let out a soft sigh. Arthur could feel her trembling in his arms and felt his face match the blush he saw on her face.
"Artie . . ."
"Yes?"
"It didn't work." She took a deep breath as if she'd forgotten how to breathe for a moment.
Arthur blinked. "Well, the witch's assistant actually kissed me twice."
"'Kay . . ." She grabbed him by his tie and pulled him into another kiss before he could say another word.
Arthur found himself pulling her in closer as sparks flew between them. He felt her hands loosen his tie and slip under his shirt collar; the warmth from her hands and arms felt like electricity against his skin as she wrapped them around him. The kiss blended right into another, more passionate one. Time seemed to stand still for a moment.
"Um . . . I-I-I can come b-b-b-back later when you're f-f-f-finished," someone said quietly.
Arthur and Alfred/Amelia immediately pulled away from each other and looked towards the doorway. Canada was standing there, his hands full with covered plates and his face bright red.
"I-I-I would have knocked, b-b-but as you can see, my hands are occupied, and well, um, the door was wide open." He glanced at the door as if he was waiting for it to back up his testimony.
Arthur realized two things at that moment: One, he had forgotten to close the door the night before, and two, Canada may have seen everything from the moment they started kissing. He immediately felt the heat of embarrassment flow over his head at that second thought.
Alfred/Amelia said, smoothing her hands over her hair. "Um . . . listen Mattie: I can explain. This isn't what it looks like. We were trying to break the spell."
Canada narrowed his eyes. "Uh huh. Sure you were." He took a moment to take in the scene a little more completely and smirked. "Look, I completely understand, so I'll just leave and—" He started to turn around.
"No! Wait!" Alfred/Amelia scrambled off the bed. "You brought me breakfast, right? I'm starving!"
Arthur debated whether he should fix the tie on his uniform or finish taking it off. He settled for the latter.
"Hey how'd you get that bruise on your forehead, Mattie?" Alfred/Amelia inspected her brother's face and looked like she wanted to touch the bruise but didn't dare to.
Canada touched the mark and shrugged. "It happened during the Truth or Dare thing. It's no big deal."
"Mm-kay, if you say so."
Alfred/Amelia and Matthew sat next to the bed and started uncovering the food he'd brought up. Arthur realized he felt hungry as well and was about to join them when he noticed that his cell phone was flashing the little light on it that indicated he had voice-mail. "Amelia, could you please save me some breakfast? I need to check this message."
She turned towards him—a piece of bacon in her hand—and nodded.
Arthur walked over to his adjoined bathroom, so he could have a little privacy.
"S-s-sorry I interrupted," Arthur overheard Canada say.
"Don't be. If we'd kept going, we would have . . . I don't know what we would have done . . . geez, I had no idea what a fantastic kisser he was . . ." Arthur heard her reply. "Not that I liked it or anything."
"Riiight. You didn't like it . . ." Arthur heard Canada say before hearing a smack from Alfred/Amelia. He felt a slight smile cross his face as he dialed his voice-mail and closed the bathroom door.
"Hello Arthur, this is Ceridwen," the message intoned. "First of all, let me apologize for not contacting you sooner. I won't bore you with all the details of being a witch on a witches' holiday like Samhaon. I would not have returned your call at all until November 2nd, but Kaydin told me the message was urgent. It's almost 2:00 a.m. here. I'll probably go to bed as soon as I finish this message, but I just wanted to let you know that I wasn't ignoring you. Second of all, I'd like to apologize about the spell . . . now keep in mind, Seren's a cat by nature, and even though I've sent her to school, it's hard to say how much she absorbed because as we all know cats have the attention span of . . . well, cats. Sorry, now I'm rambling . . . what I'm trying to say is—Beep!"
"Message received, November 1st, 6:50 a.m.," an artificial voice stated. The next message started before Arthur could react to the incomplete message.
"Arthur, Ceridwen again. This is why I should have sent you my familiar to begin with instead of using this blasted technology," she stated. "I am going to come back to fix the issues with the spell, but I've been elected as the United Kingdom's representative for the Witches Association here in the United States. I need to finish up today before catching a red-eye flight tonight. I still have many urgent duties to attend to, but I promise to call you as soon as I can if my familiar doesn't arrive before I get a chance to break away. Again, please remember it's not Seren's fault; she's only a cat."
"Message received, November 1st, 6:52 a.m.," an artificial voice stated.
Arthur glanced at the clock on the bathroom wall. It was only 7:00 a.m. He hypothesized that Ceridwen must have called when Alfred/Amelia had used his phone. He made a mental note to find out how to lengthen the time allotted for each message incoming to his voice-mail when he heard a knock at the door.
"Artie?" Alfred/Amelia said. "Your breakfast is getting cold. Are you almost finished?"
Arthur opened the door and looked out. "Thank you for letting me know. I'm still thinking about making a quick call before I come out."
She blushed when she looked at him and quickly looked down and away from him. "Sorry . . . were we too loud? Is that why you closed the door?"
"No, I just didn't want to miss anything said on my voice-mail, that's all."
"Um . . . Artie?"
"Yes?"
"How come you didn't go into this bathroom the other day when we . . . um . . . argued?" Alfred/Amelia asked, not making eye-contact with him. "This is a lot closer than across the hall."
Arthur felt his face grow hot as he remembered the reason why he'd ran out of the room. "W-w-well, yesterday was more about leaving my bedroom," he stammered. "I just ended up in the bathroom across the hall."
"Oh. Okay." She looked back at him and her cheeks turned a darker pink. Arthur noticed she seemed to be looking at his chest. "I-I-I'll just let you finish up your phone calls then." She turned and hurried over to where Matthew was sitting.
Arthur closed the door and looked down. It was only then he noticed that the top buttons of his shirt had been unbuttoned all the way down to where the V-neck in the tunic/jacket started, exposing his chest. When did? he wondered, feeling heat flow into his cheeks. He thought about what they had done earlier, before Matthew arrived, and felt the heat travel all the way to his ears. Did she . . . ?
Arthur heard a tapping on his window, and out of curiosity, walked over and opened the window to look out. "Bloody hell!" he cried when something flew in and landed on the towel rail. An English robin stared at him from the rail. Arthur contemplated how he could help the bird fly out of the bathroom window without hurting it.
"Are you Arthur Kirkland?" the robin asked him in a distinct English accent.
Arthur blinked and stared at the bird. I must still be drunk from last night.
The bird flapped twice. "Bollocks! Are you deaf? Are you Arthur Kirkland, or do I need to look elsewhere? My mistress said to only give my messages to him." Suddenly the arrival of this strange bird made perfect sense.
"Yes. I'm Arthur."
"Finally . . . sheesh, this is the fourth window I've tapped on, but you're the only one who opened up the blasted things," the robin said. "I was starting to worry I wouldn't get to do my job. I'm sorry I didn't know who you were; we didn't meet the other night because I had already gone to sleep."
"Your mistress didn't mention you either."
The robin looked like it sulked at hearing his comment. "Yes, well, I guess it's because I'm so small, and my main duty is delivering messages, so she tends to forget to talk about me. Maybe if I stayed in my human form more—"
"I'm sorry to interrupt, but it's starting to bother me; did you fly here from the United States?" Arthur asked. "Your mistress only left a message about 10 minutes ago . . . how did you get here so fast?"
The robin made a sound that Arthur swore was a scoff. "I got here the same way you were sent home the other day, but I won't go into details about witches' dimensional portals and familiars and stuff like that. It might just all go over your head."
Arthur blinked. I can't believe a bird just insulted my intelligence. "Um . . . Robin," he began.
"My name's Rowan," it said (the robin's voice didn't give Arthur any clue what gender the bird was and the name gave him no hints either).
Arthur folded his arms. "Okay, Rowan. Why didn't Ceridwen just call me again?"
"Huh? Didn't you get her second message?" Rowan asked. "She's busy helping out the other witches in the States. Anyway, I'm supposed to deliver a rather lengthy message along with some instructions, so here goes."
The robin cleared its throat. "I owe you a refund," Rowan said, mimicking Ceridwen's voice. "The other night when I came out from preparing the pieces of the moon for my other client, I found your spell still stuck in my spell book. When I asked Seren about it, she told me that you had copied everything you needed into a notebook you had with you. Naturally, I assumed from what she'd told me you had received the correct spell. So I sent her out to collect my next client before our flight to the United States. My week had been rather busy, so I thought nothing of the fact that my ingredient list for the other client's potion was missing. I decided I had forgotten to write one and rewrote one for him."
The robin stopped for a moment to preen. "Stupid cat," Rowan stated in its own voice. "I wouldn't have made that mistake. Ooo you have shinys in here." The bird stared at the ornamental prism Arthur had as part of his bathroom's decor, then acted as if suddenly realizing something. "Oops. Back to the message."
Somehow I think you would have made the same mistake, Arthur thought sardonically.
"You can imagine my surprise when I got your last message," Rowan continued in Ceridwen's voice. "You see, the other client was coming to me for a magical sex change. He wasn't satisfied with the results promised him by modern medicine and had heard that if he came to me, his transformation to a woman would be more natural and complete. I could actually change him into a woman, not just make him look like one. My incantation 'Drawsnewid i mewn i hardd, merch ddeniadol' means 'transform into a beautiful, seductive woman' . . . needless to say, whoever has his name attached to the spell will become a woman, and if the spell is interrupted . . . well, I'm not sure what happens, I've never had that happen before. I believe it's not permanent . . . I think . . . I'll have to examine your friend, Alfred, when I return tomorrow. Rowan will make the initial inquiry today, though. I'm sorry I can't return any earlier."
Arthur stared at Rowan in stunned silence.
"Well, that's the end of the message," Rowan said matter-of-factually. "Oh wait. I forgot one part: the instructions."
The robin cleared its throat again. "I can imagine your distress and desire to reverse the effects of the spell right now," Rowan said, mimicking Ceridwen's voice again, "but please don't try anything until I get back. First of all, your friend won't be able to morph back and forth like Seren and my other familiars can because—well, I am assuming this—Alfred doesn't know any magic and that's what enables them to do it. Second of all, I specifically want to warn you not to try kissing. I'm sure it might not have crossed your mind to try that yet, but I'm sending the warning just to be on the safe side. That method of transformation only works for Seren, Kaydin, and Rowan as far as I have observed, and I speculate that's because their transformations are long-time ones and also because they know rudimentary magic. Besides, even if it did work, you would be the one who changed, and you'd change into whatever your friend was thinking of."
Arthur blushed at this information.
Rowan cocked its head to one side. "You already tried it, didn't you?" the robin said in a cheeky tone.
"I . . . um . . . so why am I still me then?"
The robin made a motion that looked like a shrug. "Probably because your friend was thinking of you when she kissed you."
Arthur felt the blush travel from his cheeks to his entire face.
"And that means the potion is working," Rowan continued.
Arthur blinked. "I'm sorry. I don't quite follow you."
Rowan let out a small laugh. "According to what mistress told me the other day, the potion is one part sex change, one part love potion as requested by the client."
"What? !" Arthur said. "Love . . ." He started to recall the other nations' reactions to Alfred/Amelia. "Wait, so who does the potion affect? Because I can't tell who was acting more love-drunk last night: America or the men around her."
Rowan laughed again. "The other client hoped to use the potion to make the person he liked fall in love with him after he changed into a woman. Mistress didn't like the underhanded nature of that," the robin stated, "so she created what she called a 'two-way affection enhancer' designed to encourage feelings in both the partaker of the potion and others around him or her. If feelings the affected parties have for one another are friendship, they'll grow into feelings of love. Hatred becomes friendship, disdain or indifference becomes admiration or acceptance, and love becomes even stronger love, and so on. That's why most of the ingredients are aphrodisiacs."
The bird flapped its wings. "Are those pancakes I smell?" Rowan said casually as if the information just divulged was nothing special. "Can I have some?"
"What?" Arthur said, reeling a little from all the new knowledge.
"The paaaancaaaakes," Rowan said slowly as if Arthur was slow himself. "Oh hey, talking about the potion reminded me. Mistress said she hopes you didn't let this Alfred fellow drink all of it since it will be easier to reverse everything if there's less of the potion to purge from the body. You see, the part of the potion that's for the sex change will infuse the change into all of the body's tissues."
Arthur blinked and realized that he couldn't hear voices in the bedroom any more. He quickly opened the door and looked around the room. Matthew was drinking some hot chocolate.
"Where did she go?" Arthur asked.
"Al . . . Amelia said she didn't want her cocoa, so she went to get some coffee from her room," Canada said, pointing out the open door to Arthur's room.
Rowan hopped up on Arthur's shoulder. "Does your friend like coffee?" the robin whispered.
"Why?" Arthur asked back quietly.
"Well, to make consumption more pleasant, Mistress's potions mimic whatever is the target's favorite thing to drink," Rowan quietly stated.
"America loves coffee," Arthur whispered.
"Then I'll bet that 'coffee from her room' is the potion. If we want to stop her from drinking more of it, we'd better hurry," Rowan said quietly.
"Um . . . are you talking to that robin?" Matthew asked Arthur.
"Is there a problem with that?" Rowan said before Arthur could answer, puffing up its feathers to make itself look bigger.
Arthur face-palmed. What was the point in whispering just now if you were just going to give yourself away like that?
"Um, n-n-no I guess not," Matthew said to Rowan.
"All right then," the robin said. "Let's get to this Alfred—Amelia person as soon as possible, Arthur."
Arthur nodded and tried not to make eye-contact with the staring Matthew as he left the room. He walked down the hallway, knocked on Alfred/Amelia's door, and opened it when she didn't respond.
She was gulping down the last of the contents of a cup she was holding. She looked over at him and wiped her mouth. "Hey Artie. You know, I might need to send Mattie to see if he can get some real coffee. No offense but this British stuff just isn't strong enough; I still feel a little sleepy."
Arthur and Rowan stared at the empty cup.
"You drank it all?" Arthur asked.
"Uh yeah," she said, smiling sheepishly and shrugging. "Sorry I didn't bring you any, but I only had enough of that stuff you made last night for one person."
Arthur released the handle of the door.
"Oh Bollocks," Rowan and Arthur said at the same time.
A/N
Well, well, how will America react to a talking robin, hmm? (she believes in aliens but not fairies or other magical things. . .)
§ Jack is Australia, and Leon is Hong Kong. Jack is fanon name for the country from Down Under. I didn't like any of Himaruya's preferences: Ralph, Christian, Kyle, and Jett. As for Leon, while Himaruya has revealed Hong Kong's potential names to be either Wang Jia Long (Wong Kha Loung in Cantonese) and Li Xiao Chun (Lei Siu Chun in Cantonese), Hong Kong was also given the English name Leon. Sorry if that was confusing at all.
*15 centimeters = about 6 inches; 8 centimeters = approximately 3 inches
Translations:
Angleterre = England (French)
mi amigo = my friend
Inglaterra =England (Spanish) ;P
Samhaon = Gaelic harvest festival held on October 31–November 1. Ceridwen is just using the old-fashioned reference for Halloween here because that's how she's used to referring to it.
Rowan = Little red one (Gaelic, gender neutral name . . . sorta like how both boys and girls can go by the name . . . Robin {yes, I know I'm being punny}) X3
Arthur's slang:
ratted = extremely drunk
manky plonker = disgusting idiot
Okay . . . for a refresher on the potion so you can see what Rowan was talking about (yes, this was all planned from the beginning).
The part of the potion that turned Alfred into a woman:
Sweet myrtle: symbol of beauty and chastity
Roses: associated with pure love and femininity
Sugar & the strange spice: from the rhyme "What are Little Girls Made Of?" nursery rhyme- "sugar and spice and everything nice". ^_^
Pomegranate: symbol of fertility (or femininity)
Pieces of the Moon: symbolizes woman and has been associated with various goddesses-Artemis, Diana, Hecate, and Kuan Yin (all of whom specialized in chastity, childbirth, grace, purity and so on).
And the part that is the love potion:
Lilac: symbol of first love.
Damiana leaves: used primarily as an aphrodisiac for both sexes.
Ylang-ylang: has an intense floral, sweet, jasmine-like, almost narcotic sensual, euphoric aroma. It increases libido and energy between lovers and is considered one of the more powerful aphrodisiac scents. (on a side note, it also improves circulation, and makes the hair and skin healthy).
Early purple orchid: used in sex and as an aphrodisiac .
Anise: stimulates libido.