"I'm sorry if the taste is off. It's lucky I have a gas cooker really or I would have never been able to heat it up," Arthur apologised for the tenth time during dinner. "As I said earlier, I would have ordered takeaway but it's difficult to maintain connection with this weather and I wouldn't want to bother them." No doubt the takeaway businesses would be busy tonight if people have electric cookers not working. Poor sods would get so wet. "It's all I had in the freezer. It's only been frozen for two days. I would have done more but I had to make sure that kind dear down the road was all right. Thankfully, her son came over so -"

"It's okay," Alfred said dismissively as he raised his spoon and watched the beef stew slip off and splash back into the bowl. "I ate on the way here." He held the bowl in both hands and swallowed the remaining gravy. They should invent see through bowls so people could continue watching the TV. He lowered the bowl onto his lap and licked his lips clean. It was good TV too. Better than what Arthur was watching earlier (punk bands documentary). Alfred may be roughly 300 years old but his favourite programmes were cartoons - and nothing would beat the hilarious talking sponge animation.

He was sitting upon the sofa with a dressing gown pulled tightly across him. Arthur had tried to find clothing to fit but they were too tight (the trousers alone wouldn't go pass his thighs). He didn't care for how cold it was getting but Arthur insisted on giving him a blanket too though Alfred had suspicions it was probably so he was covered up rather than for warmth.

The TV flickered out for the fourth time and Alfred whined then leant his head back, trying to catch a glimpse into the kitchen. "TV has gone again." Right in the middle of a good episode too.

"Then find something else to entertain yourself with. Try reading for a change. There's enough candle light to see the pages."

Find something else to entertain himself with? Alfred liked that offer. He stood up, the blanket falling off onto the floor, and wandered into the kitchen. Most of the washing up was done. To his relief, the curtains were closed over the windows so nothing stopped him from approaching Arthur, placing the bowl into the sink, and wrapping his arms around his waist.

Arthur tensed up.

"Thank you for the meal," Alfred whispered delicately in his ear. "It was delicious."

Enough was enough with this abnormal behaviour. Arthur turned around, opening his mouth to deliver a lecture, when suddenly Alfred moved in. England closed his eyes tightly. He held his breath as his heart hammered in his chest.

But nothing happened.

Slowly, he opened one eye and then the other. Alfred was barely an inch away with a broad teasing smile on his face.

"Want something?" he asked, the enjoyment clear in his voice.

What had he been expecting? Arthur wondered. It was difficult to tell with Alfred acting so unlike his usual self. That smug bastard...

"I..." Why couldn't he tell the American to sod off? "Y-you...I -" It was just a few words! How could he be left so speechless by an impossibly arrogant tosser? It wasn't fair! It was meant to be him that charmed Alfred. It was meant to be him to make the gentleman move.

"I could give it to you if you want..." Alfred whispered, his breath tickling against Arthur's lips. "If you don't say anything, I'll give you one..."

Again, he was left speechless. His mind unable to process with what was going on. Why now? What gives?

He didn't get a chance to continue.

Alfred licked against his lips, moistening them before pressing their mouths together. It was so innocent - just a gentle soft kiss. Alfred's hand raised and stroked Arthur's cheek. Arthur was pleading with his common sense to react but he was too caught up in the kiss.

Arthur's lips sandwiched between Alfred's. He could feel Alfred's teeth softly biting his bottom lip making his toes curl. A light suck left Arthur moaning weakly. Their lips parted again and their tongues playfully stroked and teased against the other's.

The Englishman's knees were growing weak. He grasped hold of Alfred's dressing gown just to keep himself upright. Alfred's hand moved behind Arthur's head, tangling his fingers in the blond hair. The second hand dropped down to Arthur's punk trousers. His hand stroked over the material that revealed Arthur's firm buttocks.

And, yet again, his fun came to an end when Arthur pushed him back. A hand clamped down over Alfred's mouth as Arthur moved backwards to trap the arse groping hand between him and the counter.

"All right arsehole, what gives?" he demanded, slightly breathless from the kiss. "Why are you suddenly acting hormonal on me?"

Alfred moved his head to the side to speak. "Do you want to know the truth?"

"Of course."

There was that smug smile again. Alfred parted his lips and took one of Arthur's fingers into his mouth. His tongue ran along one side, coating it with his saliva, then sucked upon it. Arthur could only stare. The American moved back until the finger left his mouth and winked. "I'm infatuated by you."

"What?"

"For a while."

Was this... Was this a confession? It couldn't be, could it? A real confession...? From America? To England? Who... why... It still didn't make any sense! It came at once! W-well, yes there had been some awkwardness between them for the last couple of years and they hadn't been able to do much beyond making eye contact and small talk. But to think...

Goddamnit! Why did America have to be the one to make the first move?! He knew he should have done something at the Christmas party when Francis placed mistletoe above them (instead, Arthur had lectured Francis on the proper way of cutting and preserving mistletoe to ensure its magic value remains and then went on to talk about the history of its use).

"And you?"

"H-huh?"

"Is this one-sided or ?"

Arthur closed his mouth when he realised he had been staring like a deer in headlights. He still wasn't ready to stay anything... It was too much. He looked around in protest with a poor attempt of a frown.

Alfred nuzzled against his neck. "Do you like me, Artie? Cooome on. You can saaaay it. You liiiiiiike me."

"B-bugger off!" Arthur stamped down on Alfred's foot but the American only laughed. "And stop clinging! It's not cute!"

"You use to think so. I was really cute. I still am!" Alfred protested.

"You use to be."

"I still am."

"Not."

"That's mean."

"It was meant to be."

Alfred moved to the living room, tugging Arthur with him who was protesting and squirming in his grasp. He dropped Arthur down on the sofa and loomed over with him with a predator smile that made Arthur swallow and inch back to the other end of the settee.

"If I'm not cute, does that mean I'm 'hot'? sexy?"

Arthur tugged a cushion out from beneath him and held it in front as a shield. "Alfred, stop. I'm warning you. You're going to quick and I'm not comfortable."

Alfred did, thankfully, stop. He looked down at Alfred with a strange expression on his face that he couldn't read. After a brief and awkward silence between them, Alfred pulled away. "Sorry," he apologised with a pitiful look. "I didn't mean to. I just... I've been waiting for so long..."

Recovering from his shock, Arthur propped himself up on his elbows. "Now you listen here, young man. If you really want, er, this, whatever this is, then you're going to have to deserve it. I'm not some perverted freak of nature, like some, who will happily accept anyone into their bedroom. If you're that frustrated, take a damn shower. You have a hand, don't you?"

"Wouldn't be the same," Alfred whined then brightened up. "Deserve it? So I can buy you flowers, take you on a date, and see how it goes?"

"Not quite..." Arthur fell back with a groan. It was hard talking to teenagers, especially those who were stuck at the mental age of one. Why couldn't Alfred hurry up and do some growing up so they could have a conversation where they actually understood each other? It would be so much easier and a hell of a lot less stressful.

"How about tomorrow? I'll treat you like royalty! You'll see. You will love it so much." Alfred jumped up and paused when he heard a clap of thunder. "Or maybe we'll get some stuff in and watch movies. Hmmm... let's leave it as a surprise!"

"Hello brick wall. It's nice to see you today," Arthur said loudly as he rolled onto his side. "How you doing? Good, good. Glad to hear it." This was going to be a long night. A very long night.

He was lost. Completely lost. He had no idea what was East or South and he definitely had no idea where he was. This spaceship was proving to be bigger than he had thought but also very empty for something of this size. Would it be too much for the aliens to switch on a light? Alfred tried jumping up to see if he could touch a ceiling but his fingers felt nothing. And that was all that laid out around him - nothing.

And it was really really reeeeally frustrating.

The worst part was that his phone was losing battery. He tried to text and call numerous times but, as expected, there was no signal wherever he went. It was quickly becoming the worst horror film ever for he was hungry, bored, and tired. This kind of stuff never happened to the hero! Usually there would be monsters to fight or aliens would have jumped out to try and dissect him by now. Where the hell where they all?! Were they waiting for when he fell asleep and then try to attack him? Haha!

"Nice try, alien scum, but this pure-blooded American would not be easy to take d- AHHHH!" His awesome moment ruined but his damn phone beeping at him out of the blue. Heart racing with nerves, Alfred frowned at the screen with the red battery sign beeping at him. Damn it. Now what was he meant to do? He tried to shake it and smacked the palm of his hand against the phone as if it would somehow get more life into it. The beeping stopped at least. Good thing to for he didn't want anyone to hear -

A spine-chilling growl came from behind him. Alfred turned around slowly. He held up his hand in the Vulcan salute. "Live long and prosper! Errr... E.T. phone home! S'up?"

"How did you escape from the Pit of Lost Souls?" the voice sounded deep and gruff. The growls came back when the talking stopped.

"Huh? Oh, that. Err, dunno. Guess my guardian angel was around?" Alfred didn't know how to respond to the stranger. He tried to use the last of his phone light to see who it was. It was weak, but the beam fell onto a large pair of paws. Its claws looked sharp enough to skin him alive. The light slowly raised to reveal a heavily scarred and spiked creature. Saliva and blood were dripping from its opened mouth, showing its yellowing teeth. The tatty black fur still had dried clumps of blood clinging to it.

Strangely enough, Alfred relaxed. "Oh, it's just a big dog."

"WHO ARE YOU CALLING DOG?!"

Wow. So the dog was the one who was talking? Excited, Alfred grinned. "No way! You can talk! That's awesome!"

"Of course," the dog snarled, digging its claws into the ground. "I am Diablo!"

"... Is that even English?"

"No! It's Spanish for - ARE YOU LISTENING TO ME?!"

"Huh? Nah, not really." Alfred had tried to look around for where the dog came from in hopes of getting out but, once again, it was endless darkness. "Besides, you look more like a Spike to me. Sounds better."

"DIABLO. MY MASTER -"

"So Spikey, are you an alien dog?" Alfred asked, intrigued.

Diablo looked ready to pounce and tear Alfred apart but it stayed put - though clearly not happy with doing so. "NO. I AM A HELL HOUND."

"Fuck, shit, really?" Alfred groaned. So he really was in Hell? That wasn't fair! How did that happen? He couldn't die. He definitely couldn't die. No chance that clone would be able to do it. First thing first though, he needed to get out. Then he could get answers. Too many films had told him what Hell would be like (though, he did expect more brimstone and lava). "So there's not a ladder or anything I can take? An elevator would be good. Do you have one?"

"FOOL. YOU ARE ON THE SPIRIT PLAIN. YOU CANNOT GET OUT. YOU WILL BE HERE FOREVER."

"Fuck. You sure, Spike? No trapdoors or vents I can crawl through? Happens all the time in the movies."

"THIS IS NOT A MOVIE."

"Yeah. There'll be a hot half naked chick clinging to my arm if so."

Diablo growled in warning. Its bright glowing eyes narrowed. For a second, it reminded Alfred of... "Hey, who is your Mast-"

"Diablo, is he annoying you? I'm surprised you haven't sank your teeth into by now. It may shut him up before he attracts any more attention."

Alfred recognised that voice! It was the same one that helped rescue him from whatever that thing was earlier! A friend! He beamed and looked around. "Hey, you helped me out earlier, right? Can you do it again? I dunno what way to do go and -"

"YOU HELPED HIM ESCAPE?! YOU KNOW THAT HE WILL NOT BE HAPPY WHEN HE FINDS OUT."

"Relax," the bodyless voice purred, "You're getting moody again. He's too busy to know. Besides, I can handle his anger but can you handle mine? Go have a snack or two. I will tend to our little visitor."

The hell hound looked ready to strike but relaxed its form and turned around without another word. Its tail was the last thing Alfred saw of it. Pity, the creature looked like fun. Spike would have loved hanging out with Tony and his whale. Alfred could easily make a doghouse in the garden for him though, judging by the size of it, Alfred would have to find a strong enough chain to stop Spike running off.

"Has your sanity always been at this level? Or has it altered dangerous since your arrival? Ten days in Hell usually ends for many at this point. But.. you're not one to easily die, are you?"

"What? Oh. No way, man! Haha! I'm invincible!" Alfred bragged, tucking away his now dead phone into his pocket. What's the chance he could find a charger around here? In the horror games, the hero always found spare batteries around to collect up and restore power. Why can't things be more like a video game? Alfred would rock the place!

"Delusional. Nice."

"So are you going to hide from me? Are you that ugly? I bet I've seen worse than you! I remember this one time when -"

"Do you ever shut up?" The voice grew irritable. "But if you must know..." Fireballs flared up from sparks. It only pushed the darkness away without showing anything except a figure who was standing a short distance away. Well... not exactly standing. It was floating, hovering over a spot, with its hands tucked into his trousers pockets. Two small horns were just noticeable in the thick red hair. Alfred didn't notice the spiked tail until the tip pressed against the creature's elbow. Beneath the thick eyebrows was a pair of glowing eerie green eyes. But it was the face that made Alfred's eyes widen.

"BRITAIN?!"

"Partly," The devil said in a light tone. It raised higher into the air and turned upon its back so he was hanging upside down in the air. "You could say I'm the bad half of him. The half that whispers cruel intentions into his ear. He is always a fun one to toy around with, and most of the time there's little persuasion needed on my behalf." He smiled a toothy grin. "And how unfortunate for you to cross my path."

Alfred stared blankly at him. "Did you get drunk with France again?"

"I HAVE NOT BEEN DRINKING." Resisting the urge to strangle, the devil flipped back over and rested his head on his hand while his elbow rested on thin air. "Listen, do you want to know what is happening with your 'clone' or not? All you need to ask and -"

"Tell me everything," Alfred cut in, suddenly very serious. "Don't skip on any details."

The devil raised his thick bushy eyebrows. "I told you before. You want my help, you must give me something of equal value."

Alfred shrugged. "Or I could beat it out of you."

Devil Arthur floated back and the lights grew dimmer. "I'm a devil, you foolish tosser. I can leave here before you raise your fist. I'll do it too. I have spent the last few hours keeping vicious creatures away from you but if you treat me in such manner then I will leave you to their mercy. Do you think you can fight away what you cannot see?"

"I'll give it my best shot."

"You are a fool."

"One of a kind." Alfred grinned. "But we can talk, if you want. Hero has to get information by any means. So what do you want? I eerrr... have a dead phone." He patted down his torn clothing. "I don't really have anything else on me right now but when I get out, I can send you something."

"I do not care for material items. They were meaningless here." Now sure he wouldn't be harmed, the devil moved closer. His feet touched down on the floor and he walked over till he was standing directly in front of Alfred. He fussed over the state of Alfred's clothing by folding down the collar to his shirt. "But I can take something else. Something small. You'll barely notice it when its gone."

"What's that...?" Alfred asked slowly.

The devil linked his arms around Alfred's neck and pressed his lips against Alfred's. It was a soft and delicate kiss - hardly something that could lead on. But it was enough to make Alfred go bright red. What was... happening? This bizarre England lookalike was kissing him and - England was fucking kissing him! Alfred had never -

"OW, OW, OW!"

Alfred's fists grinded against the side of the devil's head. The creature pulled away, grasping his head in his hands. Alfred looked thoroughly disgusted. "You really are the perverted ambassador."

"That's hypocritical of you, bastard."

"What do you mean?!" Alfred demanded, not calling a moment in his life where he would surprise someone like that! Though the temptation had been there several times, Alfred was strong enough to ignore those demons!

The devil smirked. "Oh, you are going to love this..."