So, have any of you heard the song Collision of Worlds by Brad Paisley and Robbie Williams from the Cars 2 soundtrack? It's a song comparing things between the United States and United Kingdom. And it is one hell of a USUK love song. It makes me happy.

Speaking of happy, Happy Birthday to Alfred, yesterday! xD

Also, I try to update as frequently as possible. Often it'll be almost every night. Besides for these last few days, where my job has attempted to murder me with no air conditioning and long shifts. Hahaa. ...I wish I were kidding.

Following Arthur out of the hotel, Alfred found he didn't care where they ended up. This was awesome.

A night out in London, no parents, nagging coaches, and he was personally invited to tag along by one of the worlds best tennis players.

"So Francis called you a qualifier?"

Alfred shoved his hands in his jeans pockets. "Yeah. Got lucky, I guess." He grinned.

"Congratulations," Arthur nodded. "That's certainly something to celebrate."

"Heck yes it is!" Alfred agreed, with a loud laugh. "I totally would have gone out last night... But I was so tired."

"Understandable."

They walked down the sidewalks of London. Alfred kind of hoped they weren't going very far. The city was nice at night, but he didn't feel like getting lost in unfamiliar territory. And he had just realized he hadn't been paying attention to the first fifteen minutes of their walk. He had no idea where he was. So when Arthur stopped in front of one building, Alfred was relieved that they weren't traveling much further.

"You'll need your I.D." Arthur told him, pulling his own wallet out of his pocket.

Alfred nodded, and did the same. There was a tall man checking I.D.s at the door, and even though Arthur had told him that he was legal drinking age in England, Alfred hoped that he hadn't been playing some kind of trick on him. He had seen and heard stories of the events that happened between his companion and Francis. And Arthur was old enough to drink in the states, so for all Alfred knew he was playing some kind of joke to humiliate his Wimbledon competition. Because that's what he was, Alfred realized. He was pleased when the man at the door looked at his I.D., although taking longer than it should have as Alfred had to point out where his birth date was on the card, and allowed him inside the building.

It was a smaller club. There was a bar on one side, and a dance floor on the other. Alfred was shocked by how well the building managed to hide the music. He hadn't heard it at all until he was inside the building. And it was quite loud. The room was large, sure, but not huge. The clubs back in New York were about six times larger, and much more obvious.

Arthur led them over to the bar, where he greeted the bartender as if he were an old friend.

"Mr. Kirkland!" The man behind the bar cried out. "How are you?"

"Just fine, thanks." Arthur replied as he and Alfred took their seats. "I'll have my usual."

The man nodded and looked to Alfred. "How about you, sir?"

Alfred opened his mouth, realizing he had no idea what he wanted. He glanced at Arthur, who met his questioning look with one of curiosity.

"He'll have the same." Arthur said to the bartender after a few more moments of Alfred saying nothing.

The man nodded, and busied himself with preparing their drinks.

"Thanks for that," Alfred grinned. "Since I'm not of age back home, and I'm busy with either school or training I don't really pay attention to drinks..."

He was met with another curious gaze. "You're a student? What are you studying?"

Alfred shrugged. "This and that. Random classes. A lot of general education stuff, just to make my mom happy."

Arthur smiled a little. "I've half way finished my own degree. Online classes have made it so much easier than what it was when I first started. I expect it shouldn't take me that much longer to finish now."

"I've never really looked into online classes. Never really had to. I've always been in New York."

The bartender set their drinks down in front of them, and Alfred moved to take some money from his wallet when Arthur stopped him. "My treat, I asked you to come."

"Oh." He slid his wallet back into his pocket. "Thanks."

"They're on the house!" The bartender cried out. "Please, Mr. Kirkland. Good luck at Wimbledon."

"Thank you very much." Arthur smiled. When the man had disappeared further down the bar, he smirked at Alfred. "I told you it was no problem."

Alfred grinned. It was at that moment it really hit him who he was sitting with. He was in England. With the highest ranking English tennis player. At a bar. Right before Wimbledon. Of course people were going to know who he is.

Alfred shook his head. Now was not the time to be thinking about any of that. The last thing he needed to do was start fan boying over Arthur while he was hanging out with him. ….He was hanging out with Arthur Kirkland. -No. Now was not the time for this internal battle. He would save that for his conversation online with Matt when they got back to the hotel.

"Need anything else, Gentlemen?" The bartender asked, returning to their area.

Alfred shook all thoughts of fan boying out of his head and ordered another of whatever it was that he had just drank.

USUKUSUK

Alfred woke up to the sound of someone banging on the door. It was too early, and he didn't know anyone else in London anyway, so he decided he didn't care and simply rolled over in bed.

He didn't wake up until the door flew open.

"Arthur! I have come to return your extra room key – Why, Monsieur Qualifier! If I had known you were up for some late night fun I would have –."

Alfred sat up straight in bed as he felt someone next to him move quickly. Opening his eyes just in time to see a pillow hit Francis in the face.

A pillow that Arthur had thrown. From right next to him. In bed.