After Mary Jo had gotten a good day's worth of the rest she so desperately needed the trio returned back the Kirkland-Jones house where the blonde girl spent the night again while Nathan removed all his things from their apartment. Mary Jo had said it was her higher salary that had paid for the apartment in the first place so it was rightfully hers. After Nathan was successfully away and gone Mary Jo left the dynamic duo's home saying that she would have no problem at all living off her own salary not to mention the rather large checks that she received from Alfred and Arthur for being their surrogate.
Still, being the ever worrisome person he was, Arthur couldn't help, but fear she wouldn't do well on her own. That she wouldn't be able to handle life on her own with the state she was in. Ever the optimist, Alfred, as always, reassured Arthur that she was a strong independent girl and she could take care of things herself with or without their constant help.
And so time moved forward and the next three months slipped by. The freezing silver white winter melting away into warm sunny spring. At this point in time Mary Jo was just rounding around the bend of being seven months along. With the idea of the baby being born in only a few months time Alfred and Arthur began to realize that they really weren't prepared yet. They had yet to buy all the supplies they needed to take care of an infant let alone a nursery to put it in. After some talking on which room they should convert eventually Alfred was forced to give up the upstairs weight room and have it banished down stairs to the finished basement.
After Alfred somewhat sulkily moved the several sets of barbells and dumbbells to the basement the next issue came into play. What color was the room going to be?
"Why can't we just find out what the sex of the baby is so we don't have to wrack our brains trying to find a gender neutral color?" Arthur pouted as the duo sat together in Alfred's car on their way to the hard wear store to pick paint colors.
"Aw, come one Artie," Alfred whined. "Don't you want to be surprised?"
Quite frankly Arthur was more the type of person who likes everything to be well planned out and prepared for which included knowing whether the nursery should be pink or blue. "Well I'm sure it's nice, but it just makes everything so difficult because we have no idea what color we're supposed to paint the room with." Arthur slumped down in his seat, folding his arms across his chest and staring sideways out the window.
Alfred on the other hand loved surprises and claimed not knowing would make this is experience more like an adventure. "So? We'll just pick a gender neutral color for now and when the baby is born we can repaint if you want." Alfred felt slightly smug knowing that Arthur couldn't fight against that kind of logic.
Arthur remained quiet for a few seconds as he tried to find something he could protest against, but it was a futile effort. "Oh alright." He reluctantly agreed as Alfred swung his large SUV in the Home Depot parking lot swinging into the first parking space he found.
The two interlaced hands together proudly as the chatted and walked to into the large concrete building laden with every kind of home improvement device one could imagine. The duo headed straight for the wall where small paper chips plastered the shelves showing customers examples of nearly every single color one could imagine. "Yellow, that's gender neutral." Arthur mused out loud as he picked a paint chip of a soft sunny yellow labeled ironically 'soft sunshine.'
"Yellow?" Alfred echoed back incredulously. "I've never once met a dude with a yellow room before."
Arthur met Alfred sky blue stare with a sharp emerald glare. "Oh really," He snapped back. "Well if you're so smart why don't you pick a gender neutral color?" The Brit placed his hands against his hips and waited expectantly for Alfred to state his idea.
The American turned his head and gazed slowly over all the different colors from behind the reflective surface of his glasses. He stroked his squared chin in thought humming quietly to himself as he thought it over. "…Green."
"Green?" Arthur echoed back.
"Yeah green, it's a boy's and girl's color."
"Name at least three girls you know whose favorite color is green." The Brit challenged the American.
Alfred quieted as he ran through the list of possible green loving girl's in his head. "…Elisaveta, um… Geneva (1)…" He couldn't think of one last one for a few seconds- slightly panicking at the fact he was going to loose and his possible son might be forced to have a yellow room. Then it came to him and this one was going to take the cake. "Mary Jo, she told me her favorite color is green." He announced triumphantly.
Arthur frowned at first for a few moments- sour at his defeat- but soon he sighed and the frown turned into a gentle smile. "Alright you big lummox, you win, pick a shade." America gave a small fist pump of victory before he excitedly turned to the paint chips to pick a shade of green the caught his fancy. Soon the American picked up a shade ironically named 'English Field' and the two laughed at the fact Arthur was just about as English as they came.
The couple picked up two cans of the paint as well as some tarps, brushes, and other various tools so they could begin the decorating as soon as they arrived back home. As Alfred laid out the tarp over the hard wood floor of the room he looked at the two buckets of paint. "'English Field…" The American mused out loud to himself as he smoothed out a corner of the tarp. Now that he thought about it, Alfred wasn't sure if Arthur had ever called his brother's back across the pond to tell them the good news. (Alfred had called his brother Matthew. He had called him after practically every single time Mary Jo had called to give the couple updates.) But still, Alfred recalled no memory of Arthur ever picking up the phone and making the long distance call. Alfred was well aware that Arthur had never gotten along very well with his brother's seeing as he was the youngest out of the four of them- but whether they liked each other or not shouldn't Arthur want to share the wonderful news?
"Hey Arthur?" Alfred called as the Brit entered the room now dressed in an old t-shirt and jeans so he wouldn't ruin one of his precious sweater vests.
"Hmm?" The Brit hummed to let the American know he had his attention.
"Have you even called your brothers yet and told them about everything going
on?" He inquired curiously.
"My brothers?" Arthur replied back incredulously. "Are you kidding me? They already poke fun at me for being an 'Arse Bandit' just imagine what they would do if I told them we were having a child." He laughed- a dry and humorless sound- as he removed a few paint pans and brushes from the bags of goods from the hardware store.
"Well why not Artie? They're your brothers for god's sake. Don't you think they'd want to know if they were going to be uncles? I called my brother."
"Yes well your brother, isn't one, older than you, two, a hulking drunkard buffoon, and three, he's your only sibling." Arthur brought up some pretty valid points, but that by no means was going to stop Alfred. Hero's never quit even if that meant leading his beloved into a false sense of security, then sneaking down to the kitchen at 3 A.M. to make three long distance calls to three different countries to call his three brother in-laws. Hopefully Arthur wouldn't notice the calls to Wales, Scotland, and Ireland on their next phone bill.
After a few days the nursery was now equipped with a crib, changing table, and lovely rocking chair all painted in white so they easily matched the walls no matter what color they changed in the future. Alfred was busy applying an animal themed border to the molding of the wall when the door bell echoed up through the foyer and to the room where Al was busy at work. "I got it!" Arthur called up the stairs, saving Alfred the frantic trip down them when he tried to get to the door before whoever the guest was left. The blonde American relaxed and finished smoothing out the stick on paper as his husband answered the door.
"Oi, Artie long time no see!"
"Hey Laddie! Been a while, hasn' it?"
"Nice o' you to call us so very often, hah?"
Three voices… three eerily familiar voices. Oh crap…. "Alfred!" He flinched and shielded his face- expecting some kind of object to be hurled in his direction- but then he remembered Arthur was downstairs and Alfred was clearly not in throwing range.
He hesitated a moment. "Uh… yeah?" He called back.
"Would you please get down here?" It scared Alfred just how much complete and total rage was lying hidden in the undertones of the Brit's voice. Reluctantly Alfred placed his tools down on the floor and began heading for the stairs; silently praying for Arthur's mercy as he took each and every step. As soon as Alfred appeared on the steps a chorus of 'hey!'s bellowed from bellow in the foyer. Sure enough when he looked down at the three house guests their assumed identities were confirmed, there stood Arthur's older brothers.
"Oh Alfie, seems like you're the only one who cares about us anymore!" Angus was the first one to approach him; putting on a fake sadness act as he pulled him into a vice grip bear hug. Angus- hailing from Scotland- was the oldest of the four, somewhere in his mid thirties. He was a big brute of a man, tall and muscular with a thick neck and a crop of deep coppery colored hair that grew partially in thick sideburns on the sides of his square shaped face.
"N-no uh, Arth-!" Alfred couldn't say much more before he was grabbed and pulled over by Mael. The second oldest- hailing from Wales- a tall thin man a year or two younger than Angus. He bore a crop of longish, shaggy dark curls and icy gray blue eyes that stood stark against the shade of his hair.
"Always knew I liked this one!" He laughed boisterously as he gave Alfred such a ferocious noogie that the American knew his scalp would be burning for a week.
"Ah, he's a good bloke," Carney added in as he gave Alfred a hefty punch to the arm. Carney- hailing lastly from Ireland- was the third oldest, born only a few years before Arthur. Carney had a short spiked up crop of fire red hair sprouting from his scalp. His skin was pale and dotted with red freckles across his nose and cheeks under his vivid green eyes similar to those of Arthur's. "Right o' the lad to call us seein' as how ol' Art wouldn't 'ave." He the ginger finished; his voice thick with an Irish brogue.
Alfred felt his blood run cold in his veins. Oh, he was in for it. He was in for it big time. "Alfred," Arthur spoke through gritted teeth, voice lined in acidic bitterness. All four men- Alfred and their foreign houseguests included- all stopped and looked over to the silently fuming Brit. "Can I speak with you, alone?" Last part specifically meant for the three that weren't married to him. Arthur quickly snatched Alfred by the wrist dragging him away from the foyer and into the deeper reassess of the house and out to the back porch where the other three weren't likely to hear their conversation. Arthur tossed the ash blonde into the enclosed room waiting to explode only when he gently shut the French doors shut behind them. "Are you out of your bloody fast food clogged mind!" The Brit shouted furiously as he rushed up the Alfred, nearly cornering against the opposite wall.
"What? I don't think I did anything wrong."
"Anything wrong? Anything bloody wrong?" He laughed back in near sarcastic hysterics. "I don't think you've realized what they're like. All mouth and no trousers, it's despicable. The three of us are just going to be arguing to toss and my entire week will all go to pot. Damned bogtrotter, and that jock, bunch of hob knocking twits bent as a nine bob note. "
"Artie, you're going all British slang on me, I have no idea what the hell you're saying." Often when Arthur really got angry he would rattle off in the slang of his native country so much to the point where Alfred couldn't even guess what he was trying to say anymore.
"What I'm saying is that those there loud mouthed morons in the foyer are going to do nothing, but fight with me and I'm going to be miserable as hell and it's all your fault."
"My fault? But Arthur I didn't know they were actually gonna come all the way across the freakin' Atlantic ocean! I just wanted to let them know they were gonna be uncles. It's not like I said 'Oh hey guys why don't you all hop on an eight hour flight to America just so you can annoy the pants of my husband because we're having a kid.'"
Arthur just stood there. Arms folded tightly across his slender chest, hip slightly popped, and a scowl upon his face as he chewed his cheek in thought. "They're a group of lummoxes, the lot of them. I'll be climbing up the wall as long as they're in this country."
"Oh come on Artie, they can't be that bad." America jinxed himself as a sudden crash sounded from the front of the house where the three guests had been left.
"Oi Artie, Angus jus' made a clusterfuck o' one of your vases!" Carney laughed loudly. Arthur closed his eyes and let a long frustrated sigh blow out from between his lips; clenching his fists tightly at his side.
"Cor Blimey…" He muttered under his breath. "I swear to god, Alfred, if those three are not gone by tomorrow morning I'll have gone completely off my rocker and I will be taking you down with me."
Okay so I had waaaay to much fun with the British Slang terms. I found an entire website completely dedicated o British slang and I has been extremely entertaining. I just had to use it in this chapter. I always imagined Arthur and his brothers going off into their slang filled conversations leaving the only American extremely confused. Ahahaha… well alright. Any who now that school is officially out and I have no more finals I should be writing a lot more ^^
You know the drill my lovies, reviews are very much so appreciated. Thanks so much!