Disclaimer: I don't own these characters and I'm making no money from this!
A/N: Thanks for all the reviews!!! Sorry for the wait, came down with sickness and had many exhausting nights at work. Here is the second part!
Send Me an Angel
Alfred strode around in his small apartment and plunked a kitchen chair down in front of his... currently occupied couch. He sat down contemplating his stranger than strange morning.
The American vaguely glanced over the unconscious figure resting on the piece of furniture's plush cushions and immediately squinted his eyes behind his glasses, making a face that looked a lot like he had just sucked on a lemon. In reality he hadn't eaten a lemon (he'd actually just finished up a hamburger he'd gotten from a drive-thru on the way home), but the expression remained the same as the blue-eyed man wondered what the heck he had managed to get himself into.
He could practically see the tabloid headlines already. 'Angel sightings spur Angel impersonators!' or 'University student discovers universal nutcase!'
Jeezus, what a joke.
But, then again...
The blond cocked his head to the side and absently fingered the small cross which hung on a fine chain around his neck. Truth be told, he was more of a casual type of believer, but right now he had no idea what to believe.
The people at the small airport had been completely bewildered when he had landed and lined up the magically purple-coloured plane with the other basic white ones on the runway. Nobody had been able to utter more than gob smacked noises as the tall blond faked a nonchalant whistle while he signed out – carrying a completely comatose costumed weirdo over his shoulder to boot.
A bit of movement caught his eye and Alfred looked around to see that his unexpected guest was finally coming to.
"Oh god..." The hung-over Brit croaked out upon opening his crusted eyes. No doubt his head was throbbing. A green gaze caught sight of the American and it widened in what the bespectacled man could only assume was utter misery.
"Oh good heavens. I thought it was a nightmare." Britannia Angel moaned in misfortune.
"Yeah? Well I hope you know my weekend is completely ruined because of you, too." Alfred folded his arms and groused back.
The winged blond didn't appear to care much about Alfred's weekend though; instead he was looking at his surroundings with a growing sense of alarm.
"What is this sty you've brought me to?"
Alfred's eyes crinkled and his chin jutted out unhappily at that observation.
He'd had a roommate a couple years back – a nice guy by the name of Toris. He had been a naturally tidy person and had really helped Alfred keep up with doing the regular chores when the rush of classes and work had piled up.
Toris had moved out though and was now living in one of the campus houses with a few other guys (one of them was Russian and really intense for no apparent reason), so Alfred once again had the apartment to himself.
And yeah, okay, it was kind of messy.
He wouldn't call it a sty though.
"...Funny you should say that. This is how REAL men live." Alfred made a show of settling back into his chair sloppily, stretching and letting out a huge gaudy yawn. "Not that you would know anything about that, being an 'angel' and all." The taller blond arched an eyebrow pointedly at the hung-over heavenly being.
The Britannia Angel promptly gave the American cut-eye. "A real man you say? You wouldn't know a gentleman if he got you right in the kisser!" Britannia Angel proclaimed loudly, profoundly irritated.
Alfred raised both his eyebrows, surprised the Brit had the energy to let a haughty manner colour his tone. Wait, who was he kidding? This guy probably refueled daily by playing havoc with peoples sensibilities.
The glasses-wearing youth wanted to sigh. He really hadn't known where else to bring the crazy drunk man, and Alfred's sense of heroism wouldn't allow him to just dump the poor bastard somewhere... even though he looked like he was turning out to be more trouble than he was worth. The pilot gulped slightly to himself, thinking maybe he was just a bit more gullible than he'd first thought.
"Now then. If you don't mind," The angel hinted wearily and blinked a few times to get his bearings. The Brit began to move off of the couch, presumably to leave, but something stopped him short from doing so. Outrage rose in the tousle-haired man's expression when he realised his arms and ankles were bound. With rope.
...He was tied up?
"You–!" Britannia Angel bristled instantly in a panic. "Why am I restrained!?"
Alfred pulled his leg up to rest his ankle on his knee; his blue eyes alight with amusement and an amiable smile now on his lips. "Well, see, I had to hogtie you. I looked you over while you were out," The American said matter-of-factly.
The winged man's cheeks seemed to redden slightly at that.
"I don't know how you got the wings on, but if you were a TRUE angel, wouldn't you have..." Alfred paused for dramatic effect. "A halo?"
The angel in question lifted a thick eyebrow in confusion and his green eyes craned upwards to try and see atop his head. It was a futile effort, but he quickly caught a glimpse of his reflection in the powered off television set and his eyes went wide.
"I-It's gone! That sodding crash-!! My halo!" Britannia Angel cried in disbelief.
Alfred wrinkled his nose and scratched the side of it as the green-eyed blond started a whole new tirade. All right, so he supposedly did have a halo. Had one. At any rate, he didn't have to act like Alfred had stolen the proverbial rims off his pimped up ride. A guy that mad could terrorize the whole world if the American didn't get to the bottom of this.
"Anyway- how am I supposed to know if you're a villain or not? You've got to admit, so far you haven't done anything 'angelic'." The American snorted at the term and shrugged his shoulders in an act that was by no means innocent.
The angel's face definitely turned red at that. "I am not a bloody villain!"
"All I'm saying is-"
"Shut it!" The Brit interrupted and began struggling anew against his bonds. "I'll show you villain."
Alfred watched bemusedly at first, but became a bit concerned at the way the rope was rubbing the angel's pale skin red in places. "Hey settle down there, you'll–"
The hobby pilot reached out to stop him, but Britannia Angel bared his teeth and let out a growling noise that made Alfred snatch his hand away in a bewildered hurry. It was just his luck – did angels bite, too? Lord!
The struggling was for naught though, and almost immediately Britannia Angel fell back against the couch, eyes closed, limp like a sweaty noodle and visibly tired.
Alfred leaned forward, his bangs falling away from his face as he peered down at his captive, who for all intents and purposes didn't seem much like he could be a villain anymore. Actually... right now, the American supposed he wasn't so bad.
And, either the man before him really was an angel... or the Brit just honestly believed it to be true.
One green eye opened without warning and looked up at him. A small tinge of red coloured Alfred's cheeks in inexplicable embarrassment and he sat back in his chair.
Shit.
He really was gullible. He believed it.
The angel let out an exasperated breath. "I don't suppose you have any tea around here then, do you."
It was more of a prickly statement than a hopeful question, but it made the side of Alfred's mouth stretch into a droll line. He opened his mouth to happily say 'no' when suddenly he heard a shuffling noise come from somewhere behind him. The blue-eyed student whirled around to see a shadowy figure in his hallway.
The face that appeared next was a familiar one (well to him anyway).
"Matthew! Hey don't just sneak up on me like that, moron! What are you doing in here!"
His cousin walked further into the small living room, looking affronted. "Geeze, sorry Alfred. I'm only taking back my stuff – which you borrowed and never gave back, by the way – so I can catch up on some cleaning this weekend." The other glasses-wearing male shifted his arms, jostling the various bottles of cleaning products and a precariously balanced mop he held within his grip to prove his point. "Don't you remember saying I could come in earlier?"
"Oh. Yeah. Sure, borrow anything you need." Alfred replied distractedly, surreptitiously eyeing Britannia Angel who still lay churlishly on his couch.
Matthew rolled his eyes on his way out and Alfred could've sworn he muttered something that sounded a lot like 'I have to borrow MY OWN stuff?'
"Well I'll be going back to my place now. Bye– oh. And nice to meet you." The Canadian called out, nodding towards the thick-eyebrowed man who had been silently stewing.
Alfred shot up from his chair a look of shear shock on his face. "You can SEE him!?" He glanced back and forth between the two other blonds, the hue of his face pasty like he had eaten a rank burger. Statistically, it was quite possible he had.
Matthew gave Alfred a weird look. "Uhh... yeah?" He replied uncertainly. "Anyway, I'll see you later I guess." The willowy blond waved a hand as best he could with his arms full and headed out. A small smile curved the springy-haired student's mouth as he turned in the apartment doorway. "...And have fun."
Alfred really must've imagined the innuendo-laced tone, because there was just no way his cousin had insinuated he had been doing something with...
The cogs in the American's brain slowed as bits of visual information pieced themselves together. Tied up. Costumed stranger. Who was flushed and sweating. On his couch.
"N-not a chance in HELL!" Alfred, and surprisingly Britannia Angel as well, yelled.
The door swung shut and the two stared at each other indignantly.
"What gives." Alfred gave the angel a deadpan look. "Why aren't you invisible?"
"Of course I'm not invisible." The Brit scoffed plainly. "I'm not a ruddy ghost, you know."
At the mention of the word 'ghost' the hair on the back of the American's neck stood on end, and he balked slightly. "Uh, yeah..."
Seeing the broad-shouldered man's unease, the toga-wearing angel twisted about as best he could. "Look, it's high time you untied me, vagabond!" Before Alfred could ask what a vagabond was, the angel continued.
"It's not as if I could sodding go anywhere even if I wanted to." Britannia seemed bitter by that fact. "As soon as my feet touched the earth I became bound here until I grant a wish to the ones who encountered me first – namely you."
A wish?
An honest to goodness wish?
Alfred's eyebrows disappeared up behind his hair. "You're yanking my chain." He laughed curiously but moved closer to undo the knots in the bonds anyway.
"If it's lying you mean, I can assure you that's not quite a part of the job description." Relief and exasperation were apparent in the shorter man's voice.
Britannia Angel sighed in relaxation as he was released, throwing the ropes on the floor. A look of concentration crossed his face and a moment later the star-topped wand Alfred had hidden earlier came floating wobbly through the air into the shorter man's opened hand.
Alfred folded his arms across his chest and watched the angel pat his clothing and hair into some semblance of order.
He stuck a hand out. "Alfred F. Jones."
Britannia Angel stared at him. "Pardon?"
"The name's Alfred." The bespectacled young man repeated, fluidly turning his handshake into a salute. A smile slipped into place, somehow easy with the mysterious stranger blinking back at him.
"So? Don't tell me I'm supposed to call you 'Angel' all day." Alfred joked, grinning now.
The Brit blushed slightly at the teasing, turning his face away. "Well that is my proper title." Britannia said in a chuffed manner, his wings ruffling in response. "...But if you really must, you may call me by a human name."
The angel looked back around and let out a breath, his green gaze meeting Alfred's blue in an unspoken truce.
"It's Arthur." Britannia Angel supplied, his face morphing into a thoughtful arrangement of features. "So then, what do you wish for, Alfred?"
A rush of scores of things Alfred could wish for ran through the young man's mind. He could get anything. Anything at all! His luck was finally catching up. But, he just didn't know, he couldn't decide on just one thing. There had to be a way to stall on choosing...
"...I'm not really the wishing type of guy." Alfred answered, an index finger pointed as if to punctuate his true facts.
"...You aren't."
"Nah, in fact, I probably won't figure out what I want for a while – a long while most likely."
A significant pause weighed heavily in the room.
The impressive collection of expletives that soon followed his revelation made Alfred have to hide a grin. The American couldn't stop the small but enthused smile that tugged the corners of his mouth up, though.
'Well,' He thought good-naturedly. 'Some truces last longer than others.'
End Part 2
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