Guys you flatter me! I had never expected so much positive response to this fic. Keep it up. You're making me an incredibly happy first time author. That way I feel even more committed to deliver a proper quality. And I'm kinda urged to go back an edit the previous chapters a little. :O I'll do that maybe during autumn break if I find the time. The content will stay the same of course but I'm trying to make it better regarding the language/pace and everything.
And I got it done before Connichi after all! Despite all the stuff I had to do for school. :O I seriously hate teamwork in class. A friend and I waited futilely for our team mates to send us their topics and everything for the presentation. So we had to do everything on our own. ... If there is one thing I absolutely detest it's unreliability. And unpunctuality. In that regard I really live up to the stereotype. XD
Hope this chapter doesn't disappoint you. There's lots of interaction between Alfred and Arthur! ;D
Enjoy~
Special thanks to: El Tord, Dreiks, xMatildax, .18, catcateightyeight, mochiusagi, xBluieLovex, Wall-flower Hermit, chukaliteluvver, Maria Fremont, Q3APo and nekokitten
for your comments and kind words. THANK YOU SO MUCH QwQ
Disclaimer: Hetalia Axis Powers and the portrayed characters belong to Hidekaz Himaruya and Gentosha Comics!
Chapter Five – Start Over
The interior of the building looked painfully familiar. From the marble floor, over the layout to the attire of the employees just arriving at work. It evoked memories buried deeply within him and stacked away securely in a dark and distant corner of Arthur's brain. Gathering his courage and straightening his posture he took confident strides towards the front desk. The receptionist was a kind looking man with chocolate brown hair, tanned skin and bright green eyes. He bore a polite smile and greeted him enthusiastically.
"Good morning, Mister ...Carriedo," Arthur replied with a brief glance at the man's name tag. "I am here to see Mr Jones."
Mr Carriedo mustered him thoroughly as if deliberating whether the blonde man might have gotten lost and look for another Mr Jones. It wasn't an uncommon name in this country. He stayed polite nonetheless. "Do you have an appointment, sir?"
"Do I need one?" He masked his sudden insecurity with a neutral expression and a deadpan voice. "Last time we parted he was very insistent that I come and see him. Just tell him Mr Kirkland wants to talk to him."
Slightly taken aback the Spaniard picked up the phone. From where he was standing Arthur couldn't make out words, though it seemed obvious the other wasn't in the best of his moods. "Ah, well, sorry for bothering you. But a certain Mr Kirkland is here to see you. He told me –" But there he was interrupted by his excited boss. Even Arthur could hear the childish, joyful babbling of the Alpha and he already regretted ever setting a single foot into the blasted company.
An astonished Mr Carriedo directed him to the elevators instructing him to go the very top, turn left after exiting and follow the corridor to the very end. On his way to the Alpha's office an uneasy feeling spread in his stomach, his palms turned sweaty and he suddenly felt the urge to flee and hole up somewhere. Somewhere safe. Where he didn't have to face the taller blonde. Far to quickly a ting signalled him he had reached the top floor where he reluctantly stepped off and followed Mr Carriedo's directions. On the way to Alfred's office he felt like ascending the scaffold. Alfred F. Jones. Chief Executive Officer was written in golden letters on a small, inconspicuous sign on the dreaded door. There was no turning back now.
Pull yourself together. You are not afraid of him.
And then he knocked. Inside a chair was pushed back and muted footsteps approached the door while Arthur desperately tried to tame his hammering heart. He dried his hands on his trousers only to have them dampen again. In the next moment the door flew open revealing a grinning American who appeared to be bubbling with childish excitement. "Ar– Mr Kirkland," he corrected himself, he was a professional after all. "Come in. Let me take your coat."
Arthur complied mutely. His head was spinning, the confusion clearly written on his face. Courteously the Alpha worked his warm woollen jacket off and placed it on a coat hanger in the corner, his touch still lingering. Why was he acting so nice all of sudden?
Surely just a farce to win me over. For some unfathomable reason the American seemed to be determined, downright obsessed even, to get him to work for him. Arthur had every right to be suspicious. Their shared history wasn't the prettiest and after their "reunion" he'd sworn to avoid him like a contagious disease.
They shook hands and greeted each other formally. "Take a seat," Alfred said, his initial exuberance fading to a more paced and business-like manner. Again Arthur complied.
"So, how are you this morning?" the Alpha asked conversationally flashing him a bright smile, hoping to alleviate the other's anxiety. "Hope the journey here wasn't too much of a trouble?"
"I'm fine. Thank you." Arthur didn't know what else to say. He saw no point in complaining about the atrocious morning traffic or mentioning his general uneasiness being in this part of the city as he was inclined on staying incognito or explaining how walking down that hallway had felt like facing his hangman.
"I reckon you made up your mind then?" The other sounded curious, though he didn't miss the underlying tone of triumph and glee.
Don't think I am here out of my own free will, self-righteous prick. "Let's say the cause of me reconsidering your offer was a chain of very unfortunate events," he retorted curtly, fed up with Alfred's haughty attitude.
The brusque remark didn't seem to bother Alfred in the slightest. A victorious smile was tugging at his lips, cerulean eyes sparkling as they observed the Omega before them. "Unfortunate events?" He couldn't help asking.
"I don't see where my private life is any of your concern." Arthur's mood was darkening by the minute. His earlier nervousness, though, had dissipated almost completely.
The American seemed amused. "Feisty, aren't we?" Ignoring the exasperated look he went on. "Anyway, let's get to business then."
They went over the details of the employment contract, Arthur's working hours, his tasks and the basic rules in the company. He'd start at nine in the morning and leave at five in the afternoon. All employees were obligated to take a break around noon. His tasks included assisting Alfred with his mail, sorting all incoming messages according to urgency and importance, answering the phone and help him manage his schedule. Alfred could also consult him on juristic manners. However, the Alpha's orders were to follow without hesitation, something that would probably turn out a little difficult to realise for the shorter blonde. His distaste for rules was commonly known albeit ironic.
He was earning triple of the money he'd made working in three jobs at once a couple of weeks ago. Even twice the amount had already sounded appealing despite bearing with the nuisance of having to work with the annoying American. As long as the Alpha stayed tame like this, though, he figured that he could live with the inconvenience. Their new arrangement was sort of an unspoken start over, undamaged by past encounters. Well, almost undamaged. Arthur still kept cautious in Alfred's presence and Alfred was still fascinated by Arthur's uncommon behaviour, and a tiny bit bitter being defeated by an Omega. But all in all they had started over. Or at least it seemed like one.
"Guess I'll see you tomorrow then, Mr Kirkland. At eight, then I can give you instructions on your first day."
Arthur nodded. "All right then. I'll see you tomorrow." He shook Alfred's hand again and slowly turned to leave.
"Oh and Mr Kirkland?"
He stopped. "Yes?"
"You shouldn't be wearing a suit. Omegas look funny like that. On a special occasion it's acceptable. But at work it's uncommon." Arthur might possess the build of a Beta but people would flash him strange looks nonetheless.
"Pardon?" Upon Alfred's remark the Omega narrowed his eyes. "You're saying I look funny?" Smug Alpha bastard. He seriously deserved a punch in the face but Arthur caught himself in the last moment. Any human being blessed even with a slightest bit of common sense knew that punching your knew boss was a stupid idea. As tempting as it was.
"I didn't –"
"I'll see you tomorrow then, Mr Jones. Good day."
After their meeting of the previous day Arthur was much more at ease when walking through the polished glass doors. Now after pondering on his new situation for a while, perhaps it wasn't the absolute worst scenario in the grand scheme of things that could have happened to him. Even if he hadn't lost two of his three jobs in the past weeks. He earned more and had a much more regular working schedule.
However, he refused to let Alfred know any of this. He still didn't like the Alpha, no matter how smoothly the meeting had gone the previous day. His suspicions hadn't ceased.
"Mr Kirkland." speaking of the devil an enthusiastic voice behind him boomed. Turning around he spotted his new boss bustling through the entrance doors, in his hands a steaming coffee and a paper bag looking suspiciously like McDonald's.
At eight in the morning the git is already munching burgers. Arthur disguised his obvious disdain with a polite smile and greeted him softly. "Good morning, Mr Jones."
"G'morning. Ready to get started?" Simply judging by Alfred's bright and innocent grin one would probably never expect him to lead an entire company. It was a position usually achieved at a far more experienced aged, when hair was starting to grey and smiles had faded to permanent frowns.
Actually a nice change, Arthur thought before shaking it off. No, I didn't have a friendly thought about him now, did I? He just nodded at Alfred's question, not saying anything as the other led him to the elevators.
They stopped a floor beneath the top where Arthur's office would be located. He took a seat at his assigned desk and Alfred sat down beside him – too close for Arthur's liking – to introduce him to all the basics he needed to know about the company. Although the Brit could follow easily his concentration would falter every so often when the other leaned closer or accidentally touched him, the memories of the scene at Matthew's café still vivid.
The work was nothing he couldn't handle. Despite his inexperience in this field Arthur felt more comfortable in an office. Forcing any thoughts of his old life back into a dark corner of his conscience he was soon well-versed in skimming mails or getting rid of dubious callers.
Alfred would check on him between boring appointments and nasty paperwork. By the end of the first day Arthur felt like some fussed over child but he kept quiet about it. In this early state of his employment Alfred was genuinely worried about him yet happy to have captur– gotten him on board at last.
Arthur soon exceeded his colleagues. He might be Alfred's only personal secretary slash assistant but compared to employees with similar tasks he worked faster and more efficiently. He even ventured as far as correcting his boss from time to time and it irked him. Alfred should be grateful for finding such a useful assistant as he unburdened him from a part of his stress but it irked him.
He would saddle him with more work only to have him get it done even faster. A scowl seemed to be plastered on his face constantly yet he never complained. Alfred was observing the Brit from afar, through the glass window of the office he was situated in. He was typing furiously on the keyboard without showing any sign of exhaustion or fatigue. The initial glee had vanished and now that frustration was bubbling within him, he admitted to himself that one reason for getting Arthur to work here was the wish to repair his own ego, damaged by none other than Arthur himself.
He was in charge now and yet the stubborn Omega refused him the joy of his own triumph. His victory. Why wouldn't he just break? Why couldn't he just tell him that the workload was too much for him? He worked more each day than some of the secretaries did in two or three days' time.
Swallowing an angry growl Alfred returned to his own office. There he plopped down in his chair, futilely trying to knead an upcoming headache away.
Where had his good intentions gone?
.
Arthur's shoulders slumped and he rubbed his eyes tiredly when Alfred finally left. He had watched the Alpha standing there from the corner of his eye. Whatever the other was plotting he would not let him succeed. If Alfred only employed him for his own amusement he had clearly picked the wrong Omega.
For Arthur had learned to be stronger than that. He had fought himself, his own Nature, from his early teens on and then had struggled after his ultimate downfall.
Had he really fallen for such a perfidious trap? Was he here for revenge after all? Despite Alfred's promise? He'd been given a vast array of tasks, from true challenges to plainly mindless ones. All had one thing in common, though. They took more time than his tight schedule would actually grant him and he barely let himself take any breaks.
At the end of the day he would arrive at his apartment completely worn out and ready to sleep. For a brief moment he would wonder just how long he could carry on like this.
.
Fed up at last Arthur decided something. Since his contract did not give any precise information on the amount of work he had to tackle during his working hours he perused the old law books he had kept. He hadn't been able to throw them out, so they were neatly stacked away in a packing case hidden in the cellar between cobwebs and dust.
It stung, indulging himself once again in his old passion, but it had to be done. Or else he would loose it these days. Refusing to sound weak when approaching Alfred about this he went about it like a professional.
Thus he was well-prepared when standing in front Alfred's door. That dreaded door he had feared when first coming here. Now his knock was determined, furious almost.
"Come in," Alfred called, voice as cheerful and easy-going as usual.
I'm so going to wipe that stupid grin off your face, Jones. Arthur entered without hesitation and approached his boss directly. The folder he was carrying was fully supporting his point.
"Mr Jones, this cannot go on like this," he said in a confident but deadpan tone. No polite nothings were exchanged and Alfred was slightly taken aback by his secretary's bluntness. A thick folder was set down in front of him and he gave the Omega a questioning look.
"May I ask what that is?" He still wasn't entirely sure what Arthur was on about.
"You could read through it but I suppose it's sufficient if I'm outlining the basics for you. We're not in a courthouse here, after all," Arthur explained. Before Alfred could reply he continued, fully in his element now. "If you have not realised it already you've been assigning me an insane amount of workload and you're violating – "
"Woah woah woah," Alfred interjected. "Slow down, will you, Arthur?"
"As I was say – "
"No, listen." The Alpha's voice was softer now, caring somewhat. "You don't need to cite any laws. If I treated you wrongly you could have just said so, you know? In this early stage of your job I was testing ya. You were always done with everything so quickly, I guess I wanted to test your limits. If anything becomes too much, tell me, okay?" That was the neatest explanation he could come up with. Arthur didn't need to know that all Alfred wanted was to see him break, admit his inferiority, his weakness.
Arthur was unsure what to say. Did he get himself worked up over nothing? No, despite his words the Alpha had done it on purpose. To test his limits he said? He snorted. "Tell me, Jones," he retorted. "Why is it, that I do not entirely believe you?"
Sensing Arthur's suspicions were only vague, based on their mutual resentment in the past, he kept his mask still. "I don't know where you get your ideas but I can tell you that I didn't over-strain you intentionally. Your working attitude fascinated me but I didn't want to ask too much of you."
"Bollocks," the Briton barked, his anger not solely directed at Alfred, though. Why couldn't he ever contain his emotions? "I don't know what I did to you despite doing my bloody job that one time. Can't you see I have suffered enough already? You don't have to rub salt into my wounds, all right?"
"Enough," Alfred snapped, barely able to control his raging instincts. He may have wanted the other to break, but not this way. It was far too easy to force an Omega into submission like that. This time he wanted Arthur to admit his defeat. "I realise I have treated you unfairly. I'll see to it and will accord you new tasks shortly. You are dismissed."
Unable to think of a smart comeback Arthur quietly took the folder and left the room, mumbling a reluctant "thank you" on his way out.
As the door clicked shut Alfred felt the urge to punch something. Hard. He'd gotten what he wanted, kind of at least, and still he wasn't able to enjoy it.
It's my birthday tomorrow!
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