Disclaimer: I don't own Captain America or any of the related characters. Rights go to the respective owners.
Title: On the Line
Warnings: None
Summary: A crossover between Captain America and Hetalia; essentially a prequel to the movie.
June 1943
"Arthur?"
"Who else would it be?"
Alfred chuckled idly on the other end of the line.
"True. I doubt Winston would be calling me."
This time it was Arthur's turn to smile as he wiped a bead of sweat from his forehead.
"I'm amazed you remembered that he's the only other person with a key to this room."
"I still don't understand why you have the only trans-Atlantic telephone down there locked up."
Arthur licked his lips as he readjusted the receiver between his ear and shoulder.
"Nearly 200 now and you still don't understand many things."
"I think it's the stuffy air that's gone to your head, not mine."
At those words Arthur cringed, shrugging his shoulders and swapping the phone to his other ear. He took in a breath to fill the silence as he tried to think of something to say. His lips had begun to curve around the first word as suddenly the room shook and he dropped the phone. For just a moment he sat stark straight before diving under the desk, knowing that would of course be no help to him if the room caved in.
"Arthur? Arthur?"
Alfred's voice, loud and distraught, came through from the hanging receiver. The Briton grabbed the dangling cord as the tremors slowly ceded. He brought it to his mouth, and exhaled again, rubbing his temple gently.
"Arthur?" Alfred asked once more, still sounding troubled.
"I'm sorry. They've bombed upstairs, I dropped the phone."
The sound of Arthur's wristwatch ticking filled the room until Alfred's voice, suddenly much smaller and hesitant, filtered through.
"Are you all right?"
"Yes, Alfred. I'm fine," Arthur replied gravely, now rubbing his forehead a bit more forcefully. "But those upstairs are not. I can feel it. There are always too many casualties."
The Brit imagined Alfred frowning then, possibly nibbling on a pencil to calm his nerves.
"Arthur I'm sorry. I wi-"
"Don't be sorry, it's not your fault."
Arthur took that moment to stand back up and situate himself in his chair. Alfred too could be heard shifting, or possibly organizing some papers.
"I love you."
Arthur had heard this nearly a million times so far whenever Alfred thought him to be in trouble.
"Alfred-"
"No don't say that. Don't say that my emotions are confusing reality with imaginary because of the stress of the situation. It's not true, Arthur. I love you, I really love you."
The British nation pinched the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger as he let out a defeated sigh.
"My brain is telling me I've too much to deal with right now and that I should tell you to piss off, but what's left of my heart is longing to keep this conversation going."
An uneasy laugh was returned from across the line.
"Well you know what my heart's telling me?"
"I'd say 'do tell' but I'm sure you'll let me know me regardless."
There was a short gap in the exchange, and in the stillness Arthur could hear more papers being shuffled at Alfred's desk.
"I miss you."
The Briton closed his eyes, this time not rubbing away any pain, but smiling almost hypnotically at the American's voice.
"I miss you too, Alfred."
Alfred stilled momentarily and Arthur was sure in that moment he was smiling.
"Well I'll see you again soon, right? You're flying out tomorrow."
Within a second, Arthur's smiled vanished, and the frown that had occupied his lips nearly every moment of the last four years returned full force.
"Alfred-"
"Oh God, no, no don't say my name. That means you're not coming."
"Alfred please try to understand. I'm needed here. We don't exactly have a surplus of people to ship out."
"Arthur, no. There's gotta be a way. I'm sure someone can fill in for you for a few days. They'll manag-"
"I'm sending you one of our best agents. She's been debriefed on everything and I'm sure she'll make a great addition to your team at the SSR."
"Arthur! You're supposed to be head of the Strategic Scientific Reserve!"
"Well this is certainly a strategic decision on my part."
"Arthur!"
"I've handed command down to Col. Phillips. You spoke quite highly of him, and he is certainly suited for the position."
Alfred slammed his fist down on his desk and the forceful vibrations sounded through the phone.
"And you did this all behind my back? You can't do that, Arthur! This is an Allied effort!"
"You'd have never given me consent."
"Damn straight I wouldn't have! I'm the United States of America, you can't just leave me out of your decision-making!"
"Agent Carter will depart tomorrow at o 800 hours."
"England!"
There was a pause as neither had addressed the other in that way since the beginning of the war; oddly enough, the destruction and mortality had brought them closer together.
"Arthur, I'm sorry. Please just, try.. try and make arrangements? I miss you terribly."
The Briton sighed once more out of exasperation.
"Alfred, if this plan works, and the serum is successful, the war shouldn't be that hard to win," he let his free hand rap lightly on the wooden desk. "If this works, we will see each other soon."
"Arthur..."
"I want none of that."
"But-"
"But nothing," The Brit answered, meaning to end the conversation. However a short pause followed, after which Arthur spoke again.
"Alfred?"
"Yeah?"
Arthur, who would normally be embarrassed at his flushed cheeks and sentimental words, didn't think twice before he spoke.
"I... I love you and I miss you quite terribly as well. We'll see each other again soon."
"Aw Arthur."
"Stay safe."
"You too, Arthur. You need it more than me."
On that note the weary nation hung up the trans-Atlantic call, gathered his things, and stepped out of the broom closet of a room. He was surprised to find a young woman, short and blonde waiting for him just outside.
"Yes?"
The woman took a moment to adjust her hair and then spoke pleasantly.
"Ms. Carter is waiting for you in your office."
Confused, Arthur pulled back his cuff to check the time and was astonished at what he saw.
"Bugger, I'm twenty minutes late," he said as he started toward his office, the short woman's high heels clicking on the concrete as she hightailed it behind him.
"I'm sorry, sir, but I didn't want to disturb you."
Arthur stopped at a crude wooden door, labeled by a simple set of numbers rather than a name.
"Rightfully so, it was an important call," the nation responded, placing his hand on the doorknob. "Thank you, but see to it that from now on I arrange my calls to Mr. Jones with a half hour intermission before I conduct any other business."
"Of course, sir," the woman assured, turning and clicking back the way she came.
Arthur looked back toward the door and promptly turned the knob. Inside, a young woman with shoulder length curls and a pressed white blouse stood up to greet him.
"You're late."
Arthur stumbled in, dropped the articles he was holding and briefly shook her hand.
"Yes, I'm so sorry about that. I got a bit caught up."
"Talking to your American friend?" She eyed him carefully with a sly smile, and for a moment Arthur was astounded by her empowered manner and blunt words.
"Why yes."
"I'd of never thought you of all people would fancy an American," she smiled again, her red lipstick almost glowing in the artificial lighting. Arthur on the other hand was working hard not to fluster and keep up is prim and proper image.
"You'd be surprised. Some of them can be quite charming."
Ms. Carter shifted her leg onto her other knee and cocked an eyebrow.
"I'd argue the point, but it would be no use seeing as you're already quite smitten," she replied, a furtive little grin making its way onto her lips.
Arthur simply nodded as he shuffled through a few files until he came across the manila folder he was looking for.
"Perhaps that's it. But you must admit, they can be quite admirable."
Ms. Carter took the folder that Arthur held out and flipped through it.
"This project should be a testament to that."
"Of course. Dr. Erskine and Col. Phillips have gathered only the best and bravest. I expect you'll help turn them into what we need."
"A perfect soldier?"
"A super soldier."
Arthur locked eyes with the woman across from him and spoke as genuinely as he could.
"Ms. Carter... this could be the key to ending the war. I'm putting a lot of faith in you."
She nodded curtly, standing up.
"I will do my absolute best, Mr. Kirkland."
Clutching the folder to her chest she headed for the door, though not before Arthur could stop her. He stood as well, chair scraping stiffly against the floor.
"And Ms. Carter."
"Yes?" she stood straight and at attention.
"Don't be so quick to judge the Americans," Arthur sent her a small smile before turning back to eye a picture of himself and Alfred which sat lonesome on his desk. "They might be exactly what we need."