AN: Oh my god I got a review and it was a beautiful review and it warmed my heart and I just oaherioauroiaure. I had no inspiration whatsoever to continue this story, and then I just read that review and I actually managed to hurt myself while I was spasming from joy. My friend, who was watching me over a skype videochat, says she was extremely concerned. I couldn't tell that she was, since she was laughing hysterically.

Thank you, Eurlenette, foreversnowynights, and Thieves of the Sea for following, and thank you thank you thank you THANK YOU Thieves of the Sea for your awesome review! :DDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDD

I'm sorry that this chapter is short. Next one will be longer, I promise!

Five months had passed, and Arthur still couldn't believe that Alfred had only published the first volume of his comic book. Alfred had insisted that he perfect everything before he put it out to the public. That had been a week ago. Now, Alfred was furiously finishing the last panels of the next volume while Arthur sat and watched.

Arthur didn't like being sentimental, but he couldn't help it. When he was bored, his mind would drift off, usually to his previous life. It hadn't been bad, serving tables by day and writing by night. Unfortunately, his fame came after he had already died of cancer at the relatively young age of fifty-four. He was glad that the youth of this day were still enjoying his books, however.

Today, however, he was thinking about his first encounter with Alfred Jones, eight months previously. He had been surprised that they had been able to reconcile so quickly after such harsh words had been exchanged. Arthur vaguely remembered being told that UPPs and their charges were matched together in such a way that their personalities and abilities would be able to work together to benefit society. He supposed that was why they had gotten along so quickly, but he still thought that it was almost unnatural, the way they both seemed to understand each other.

That brought him to his next train of thought. Before being sent out of cyberspace to the physical world, he had been warned of UPPs that had become too attached to their charges and were unable to move on when their charges had died. Despite the fact that all humans would eventually become Uploaded Past Personalities themselves, something in their caretakers would snap if too attached, and both of them would disappear into oblivion. That fact was what scared Arthur most. Their very first encounter seemed to spell disaster, although Alfred was blissfully unaware.

Alfred was also blissfully unaware of the fact that Arthur was starting to harbor feelings for him. Feelings that were extremely taboo, since Arthur was dead.

Arthur snapped out of his thoughts when he heard his name being called. "Yes, Alfred?"

"Just wanted your opinion on the last page here." He held up the super-enlarged version of what would become the last page of Freedom Fire: Volume Two. "See, there's a cliffhanger here, 'cause Crimson is slowly walking toward Fire, and Fire's melted his prosthetics so he can't move, and there's a big 'To be Continued!" at the end! Is it good?"

Arthur smiled. "It follows the layout of the plot perfectly, and the art looks fantastic, as per usual. I think you've done a fine job, lad."

Alfred beamed. "Thanks, Artie! Let's go get these to the publisher!" He rolled all of his huge pages up and put them in a cylindrical container, then grabbed Arthur's hand and dragged him out of the house. Arthur stumbled, barely able to keep up with the enthusiastic American. Arthur's protests seemed to be unheard by Alfred, and really, Arthur didn't mind being dragged along too much. It reminded him of being alive.

After spending an hour at the publisher's office, the two of them walked out onto the snowy December street. Alfred was babbling on about how awesome the new volume was going to be, and how he watched a small fanbase grow larger over the internet. Arthur only half-listened, having heard the exact same conversation the last time they had been here, but there was a small smile on his face. Despite having heard it all before, Alfred's radiant, undying joy always managed to make Arthur smile.

"And it's all thanks to you!" Alfred finished, beaming at Arthur and draping an arm amicably around his shoulders. Arthur turned away, hiding the blush that colored his face.

"Well, thank you, that's very kind."

"It's only true!" Alfred paused, looking intently at Arthur's face. "Hey, Artie. Do you breathe?"

"Out of force of habit, yes. Why?"

"Your breath doesn't make any fog."

Arthur frowned, having never noticed this. He exhaled and noticed that Alfred was right. Despite the fact that there was snow all around them and the temperature was freezing, Arthur's breath made no change to the air around him. In fact, Arthur didn't feel cold at all, even though he was wearing casual clothing, unlike the bundled up American beside him. "Maybe it's because I'm just a sequence of zeros and ones," Arthur reasoned.

"I guess so."

They continued walking in silence. Alfred seemed to be watching the snow falling, occasionally trying to catch a snowflake on his tongue. Arthur, meanwhile, was once again contemplating his emotions, feeling more than ever that he had to distance himself from Alfred before they both ended up permanently dead.