Six
When the sun filtered through the cracked window of Anya's room, it left a shattered pattern on the bed and floor. It shined directly in Alfred's face, causing him to flinch awake. He turned over, trying to catch those last few Z's before work…
Oh, wait, work.
He sat up, sighing heavily, before remembering exactly where he was. He looked over at the sleeping figure next to him. The only motion that Anya made was the rise and fall of her chest as she breathed, still asleep. It had been… a long night. Alfred chuckled, slipping out of bed, not wearing anything. He looked around, spotting his pants and shirt; but where the hell were his boxers? He heard a soft snicker from behind him.
"Nice ass, darling~"
He refused to turn around, simply looking over his shoulder. Anya sat up, holding the blanket close with one hand, covering her chest. In the other hand, however, were Alfred's boxers. She smirked, the snickering turning into laughter as she tossed them over to him. In automatic response, he reached out and caught them, turning around and revealing… well, pretty much everything. He quickly slipped on the boxers as Anya stood up, using the blanket as a kind of toga while she moved towards her closet in the search for clothing. She dropped the blanket, fitting into a matching set of undergarments, both a baby-pink color. She turned around, scanning the clothes she had lying all over the floor, picking up a one-sleeved red top and a black skirt. Before getting dressed, she flitted over to Alfred, grabbing him and pulling him into a kiss, smirking in triumph as he kissed back without a fight for once.
In between breaths, she mumbled, "Do you have to go to work, darling~? "
Alfred had to tear himself away, his cheeks a dusty red hue in the shattered light that continued brightening the room. He buttoned up his shirt, turning away, wondering if he was going to get in trouble for running out of work like that. Anya sighed, taking that as a "yes" to her question, and slipped on the clothing she'd picked out. A knock at the door made them both jump. As Anya made her way for the handle, the door opened, Arthur standing in the doorway, gun loaded and aimed for either one.
"Hands where I can see them, Alfred." He grumbled, pointing the gun from him to Anya and back again.
"Arthur, what are you doing?" He raised his hands to show he had no weapon, trying to motion for Anya to do the same. Anya, however, crossed her arms, tilting her head and narrowing her eyes. She'd only caught a glance of Arthur the first time she'd seen him at Alfred's apartment, but up close, he looked very familiar…
And then it dawned on her.
"боже мой! (oh my god!)… I know you~!" she exclaimed, trying not to laugh. Arthur pointed the gun at her, glaring.
"What are you talking about?"
"You've been here before! You're—"
He clicked the gun, his cheeks flaring red. "You'd better hush your mouth, lady!"
Anya shook her head, picking up her cell phone and texting someone. Alfred put his hands down, terribly confused. Anya… knew Arthur? In what way? He looked from Anya to Arthur and back, frowning.
"Arthur, what is she talking about?"
"Don't listen to her, Alfred. She's lying."
The room was silent for a bit as Anya put her phone down, smirking at Arthur. He returned the look with a stone-cold glare, moving inside the room and grabbing America's arm, pulling him towards the door.
"You can't leave yet, Artie~" Anya snickered, moving over and grabbing Alfred's other arm. "There's still one person you haven't visited~"
Alfred looked from one to the other again, feeling very uncomfortable with being pulled in two separate directions. Arthur's patience was wearing very thin, and he pulled harder on the American's arm.
"Let go, you whore!"
"Not yet, darling~!"
Al frowned at Anya. "I thought I was the only one you called 'darling'!"
Anya blinked, her gaze distant, before smiling and letting go of Alfred. "Of course not! Why, do you want me to only call you that~?" she chuckled, smirking now.
Before he could answer, Arthur pulled on his arm again. "Let's g—"
As the Englishman turned to leave, he bumped face-first into someone. They were wearing black high heels and a red miniskirt, but there was stubble on their legs. They wore a matching red tube-top, black glovelets, and had shoulder-length, wavy blonde hair.
"Ah, Arthur, we meet again, oui?"
The voice was masculine, of course, with a heavy French accent. Arthur and Alfred stared, dumbstruck. Anya looked like she was going to burst into laughter.
"Francis. Perfect timing~"