Author notes: Again, thank you very much! I'm happy to see that you've enjoyed chapter two and Arthur's interactions at work. We've all been there haven't we? In one's life, there must always be that one annoying person who you really want to "staple things to their head" (quoting Bridget Jones there). Now this chapter was a little bit of a challenge to write this, mostly because of the French. I used to study French and Spanish back in secondary school for about three years and it's been, fuuh, seven years since I last touched those textbooks. I honestly can't remember much anymore. And it really doesn't help that whenever I read French, Japanese comes out instead. Oh dear. I really hope I didn't butcher the language! And I apologise if this chapter seems a little short! Initially I had a lot planned out for chapter 3 but then I realised how the word count would be huge if I squeezed it all in and I didn't think that it'd fit the pace of this chapter. I'm sorry! OTL
'S.B' anon, thank you for looking forward to this! I adore failure!Arthur myself because he seems to be the sort of person who would put up such a strong front and then have things fall apart around him. Kiiroiyuuri, thank you for enjoying! Yes Arthur is having a difficult time but I'm sure he can cope. And please look out for Alfred! He won't be appearing in this chapter sadly but will in the next! 'You're awesome' anon, well I suppose Francis would be more or less amused with that comment? XD Randomstrike, thank you! Mademoiselle K.G, thank you for your cheer! I will do my best! Teenage Mouse, thank you very much for reading this and I'm sorry if the summary had turned you off a little! ;A; I'm really grateful for your feedback! I'm glad that I've been able to keep on track with trying my best to make this original piece so I'm very happy to see it come through! What was important here was that I wanted to ensure that Arthur was essentially still a man so it took a lot of thinking to adjust Arthur's character in the role Bridget (who is arguably the prototypical British woman). And rest assured, you haven't missed anything because Arthur is straight…or is he? :D Fan-fic-Addict129, I'm glad that you enjoyed this chapter!
And last but not least and as always, I will forever thank the lovely Dee or rollofthepenguins for her dedicated proofreading and for helping me improve this fic so much. You a star, duck. I cannot stress that enough.
Oh yes! I've recently changed my pen name because the old one (in spite of having that since the beginning of my writing on this site) was just too long and meh. So from now on, it is suikalopolis. Hello and nice to meet you all! X3
Disclaimer: I do not own Axis Powers Hetalia nor do I possess the brilliance behind Bridget Jones's Diary.
T h e B r I t L u c k
a USUK story
By s u I k a l o p o l I s
Message to: Kirkland (Thurs, Jan 5. 11.01)
You have bed hair, mon chéri. Are you trying to tease me? Bad boy.
Bonnefoy
x
Message to: Kirkland (Thurs, Jan 5. 13:43)
It appears that you have forgotten your belt. Your chinos are slipping. Not that I will complain. I'm getting a good view from here as you are searching for Yao's pen.
Bonnefoy
x
Message to: Kirkland (Fri, Jan 6. 16:17)
Rather than spend the last two hours watching me from your desk, you should know that you are more than welcomed to stop by my office to look at my face closely. I want to look at yours as well.
Bonnefoy
x
Message to: Kirkland (Mon, Jan 9. 10.31)
If walking past me with the smell of damask roses was an attempt to catch my attention and allure me, I must assure you that you really need not to, mon chéri, though I am very flattered. You are very cute, Arthur. How about I take you out for dinner this evening? I'm sure those chocolate fingers are not the only things you would want to put inside your mouth.
Bonnefoy.
Arthur's eyes widened at the last message which had just arrived in his inbox, the chocolate finger that was making its journey towards his open mouth stopping short and he blushed wildly at the last sentence which had been written.
Oh god.
A strange gurgle left his throat.
This…this was just…! This was sexual harassment wasn't it? This undeniably flirtatious email from his boss…surely Francis must be bonkers! This was just wrong. This was not supposed to happen. There must be another Arthur Kirkland in this company – there must be! Fucking bobble-headed dogs, what would a normal person do in such a distressing situation? Ring in a report to the Industrial Tribunal? No, no. What was thinking? He is a man. Men do not report. Men settle things with fists. Fists? Fuck, that was even worse. He'd lose his job. Okay, okay. Something was definitely amiss. Why was Francis Bonnefoy suddenly interested in him of all people?
Flustered and with his appetite lost, he dropped his chocolate finger into the small rubbish bin which sat by his feet before he started typing furiously.
Message to: Bonnefoy (Mon, Jan 9. 10.34)
I'd appreciate it if you did not make it your sport to send me such insinuating messages on a daily basis through this impertinent manner of messaging, Mr. Bonnefoy. Or try to make passes on me whenever we meet.
Kirkland
"Oi! Méi mao!"
Arthur hastily clicked on the 'send' button before he closed the window and looked up to see Yao standing at the other end of the office, a piece of tape-like candy hanging from his mouth. "Yes?" he answered, hoping the blush had finally worn off from his face. Yao had a knowing look on his face as he chewed on his candy slowly and this made Arthur feel very unsettled. He watched how the rest of the raspberry pink tape slowly disappeared into the man's mouth.
"Go pick the drafts up from Suzie," he finally said after he swallowed and then yawned rather obnoxiously before his arm accidentally knocked over an editor's cup of coffee, the dark liquid spilling across a few sheets of documents and his front of his trousers. Yao sought this as paltry however and he simply waved his hand at this, much to the dismay of the poor editor who tried to separate the stained sheets with a scowl. When Yao noticed Arthur had not budged from his position behind his desk, he cast him a look. "Suzie. You still remember her, yes? The one who broke up with you last time because you thought she was wearing a wig? Aiyaa, don't tell me you forgot her already? Remember that time when you tried to tear off her-"
Arthur rose from his seat, his cheeks flushing with colour. "Yes, yes, I haven't forgotten. Now will you please stop bringing that up, Yao!" he said with an exasperated look, trying to ignore the curious glance which the coffee-stained editor gave towards him. Yao's brows rose at this and upon noticing the obvious look of discomfort which was reflecting off his face, a wicked grin erupted across his lips. With his overbearing 'gossipmonger aunt' mode on, Yao held the editor's shoulder in a vice-grip as he forcefully swivelled him in his seat so that they were face to face. "You know, the wig wasn't really the actual reason why she split up with him," he began. "See, it's really because he said he'd prefer her to have bigge-"
Arthur moved around his desk, a highlighter pen clasped tightly in his hand. But before he could reach Yao to silence him (he wasn't sure what he could do with a highlighter pen – perhaps colour his face into submission?), he was suddenly knocked over an opposing force which collided against his body. Startled, he staggered a few steps in an attempt to re-establish his balance before a hand reached out to steady him.
"My, my. You are unexpectedly energetic today. Did I really perk you up that much?" Francis's smooth and ridiculously velvety voice had interrupted his thoughts but it was only when his boss's breath had swept across his cheek did Arthur force his arm out of the man's grip before he took a few steps away from him. What was it with Francis and invading his personal space these past few days? It was as if the man actually enjoyed cornering him and teasing him at any of the chances they happened to not be behind their respective desks. He scowled lightly at the amused look on Francis's face.
"Hmph, stop being so full of yourself, Mr. Bonnefoy. As if you have the capability of doing such a thing," Arthur retorted in a rare display of defiance which had Yao perk up in slight interest. Opting to eavesdrop instead, he turned and shoved the coffee-stained editor back to his desk none too gently before he skulked back to his workspace, eyeing them like a vulture, though this went unnoticed by the two men.
Francis simply chuckled in response, his loose ponytail falling across one shoulder. "Is that so? Well I am sorry for that. Perhaps it would be better if I put more effort in it, non?"
Arthur stared at him, a little at a loss for words. "I-I beg your pardon?" he stammered out in slight disbelief.
"Effort. To perk you up, that is. You see, I thought that it will be good if I should take you out on that di-"
"No! No, thank you. Tha…That won't be necessary, really," Arthur interjected when he noticed the dangerous turn their conversation was about to take. He glanced over Francis's shoulder and spotted Yao behind his desk, watching them closely with brazen assurance and this made him feel all the more uncomfortable. "I need to collect some papers right now," he hurriedly added.
Francis sighed, almost dramatically, with a tilt of his head. "Ah bon. Well, it cannot be helped. You are busy and important after all," he replied with a wink.
Arthur held back a snappy retort and he decided to entertain his boss with a stiff nod, ignoring the small throb in his chest when he realised how Francis had actually remembered his stupid words.
"…á plus tard," he mumbled, cringing at how decisively crippled his pronunciation was before he quickly turned to leave the room so as to not catch the look which crossed his boss's face. Just as he was about to step out into the corridor, he felt that a presence stand directly behind him and he stopped in tracks, a little irked, and glanced over his shoulder. His eyes widened in disbelief.
"What…what are you…I've already said goodb-are you following me?" he blurted out accusingly, gaping at Francis who (Arthur had just realised was actually a few inches taller than him) was looking down at him in mirth.
"Pas du tout," Francis laughed and Arthur felt his face flush in embarrassment. "Whatever made you think of such a thing? Oh lá lá, I see that you have quite the imagination, Arthur. Did you fantasise me trapping you against the wall in the elevator? How scandalous."
"Wha-? No! No, god, fuck no! I-I mean, th-that's just ridiculous! Absolutely not! I had never-!" Arthur sputtered in a pathetic attempt to save face. He mentally cursed how increasingly hot his face was becoming.
"Oh? Well, that is a shame," said Francis in slight disappointment. In spite of saying this, he seemed somewhat pleased for some unnamed reason (if that smirk was anything to go by) before he stepped around Arthur, his shrewd hand brushing ever so subtly across the small of the Londoner's back.
Arthur stiffened at the contact and his heart skipped a beat as he felt Francis's shoulder press against his own, in spite of how wide the door was.
"I was looking forward to something, mon chéri."
Message to: Kirkland (Mon, Jan 9. 14:28)
Put down the pen you are chewing on and come to my office, mon lapin. You can nibble on something else much better than that. And I say that you must have dinner with me tonight. It is only fair after all. You have been teasing me with those looks you cast towards me every ten minutes.
Bonnefoy
x
Message to: Kirkland (Mon, Jan 9. 16:47)
Oh, you are a truly heartless bastard, Arthur. To tease me like this by pretending to be disinterested and cold whenever I approach you yet you look my way when I am afar. You are quite the character. I must acquire you, mon cher.
Bonnefoy
Arthur signed out of his email with a quick click of his mouse and he stood to hurriedly gather his belongings. If he was quick enough, he could leave the building whilst Francis was still in his meeting. Yes, that was a sound plan. He would avoid what seemed to be the fourth attempt by his boss had tried to corner and talk him into agreeing to go on ridiculous dinner with him. Uttering a hasty goodbye to Yao who replied with a grunt around some dubious looking snack as he was making his way back to the meeting room with some folders, Arthur skipped to the elevator with a elevating sense of accomplishment. Yes! The meeting was still on! He can finally go home without bumping into Francis. Good, good. Things were finally looking up. He waited for the lift alongside a few chattering co-workers, casting them a few polite nods as he tapped his foot impatiently.
Come on.
The elevator doors slid open and in a clumsy succession of steps, Arthur had barrelled his way in without realising just who he had catapulted himself against. A pair of hands reached up to steady him by the shoulders before any collateral damage had been done and a smooth voice rumbled above him, sounding perversely pleased.
"Excited again, Arthur?"
Bollocks. It seemed evident that some form of higher power truly hated him and that it was undoubtedly orchestrating these series of events for its own entertainment.
Fighting off the growing blush on his face because he could feel the eyes of elevator occupants on him, Arthur straightened his back and he forced himself to stay cool and composed, giving Francis a poor attempt at a smile before he stood stiff and still, patiently waiting for the elevator ride down to be over.
The moment the elevator reached the ground floor, Arthur pushed his way past the throng of people and he hurriedly made his way out of the building, his hands slipping into the pockets of his coat for warmth. There was still a considerable amount of snow on the street in spite of having none fall the past week yet that didn't mean the conditions had ceased to be 'treacherous'. It was still slippery due to ice and Arthur had already seen far too many people slipping down the street since the first fall of snow. He himself had slipped rather spectacularly in the past (and that, embarrassingly enough, had been caught live on the news though he was thankful that his face had been blurred out) but fortunately he had not this year and he was determined to keep it that way as a personal record.
Nodding to himself, he then went around the corner and allowed his feet to take him down his usual route without a thought.
"Oh, Feliks is back from his Europe trip now, isn't he?" he muttered to himself, suddenly remembering the text message Kiku had sent him this morning about gathering at their usual bar this evening. He allowed a small smile to grace his lips. Well, perhaps it was about time he met up with his rat pack of friends after all. As much as he wouldn't like to admit it, he did miss hanging around them. It felt a little empty without their usual annual drink fest this year, what with each of them being busy with their own affairs.
He stopped at the traffic lights and just as he was about to press the pedestrian button, someone beat him to it. "Ah, thank you…" Arthur said and he glanced up in politeness, only to blanch when he realised that it was Francis who stood beside him, a cigarette hanging from his lips.
Even against the white-grey backdrop of winter did the man still look as suave and refined as he always had back in the office.
Noting the flabbergasted look on Arthur's face, Francis flashed him a charming little smile. "Salut," he greeted in an overly familiar tone.
"Don't salut me," Arthur huffed, his eyes searching his boss's face in incredulousness. "What are you doing here? You…you have a fancy car. The one you take people home with…what are you doing all the way out here, in Regent Street no less?" And then it hit him. "Fuck, you really are following me, aren't you?"
The pedestrian light turned green and then, gently grasping Arthur by the elbow, Francis towed him along and continued his way down the crowded street, in spite of the indignant squawk Arthur had made. "Nothing of the sort, mon cher. I am simply heading the same way," he said with a blithe disregard at Arthur's attempt to loosen his grip. "Oxford Circus is it?"
After carelessly bumping into people in his haste to free himself (which earned him dirty looks and nasty expletives) Arthur grudgingly trudged through black ice behind his boss, Francis's warm hand still clasp around his arm with a firmness which oozed with confidence and it burned through the layers of his clothes. He scowled at this, feeling somewhat small and insignificant within the presence of this man. God, even when walking, Francis was able to make heads turn. It must be nice to have such fetching looks, he thought bitterly.
With the long strides Francis's legs took and Arthur trotting after him, it didn't take long for them to reach the underground and pass through the gates. Arthur was actually surprised that Francis even owned an Oyster card.
"Why, just because I have a car does not mean I do not like to travel by foot," he grinned, the rush of air from the incoming train had caused his hair to fall attractively across his face.
Arthur tried to ignore this, avoiding those dazzling blue eyes as he quickly boarded the packed train. In an effort to be situated in a space which was further away from Francis, he tried to repeat his earlier tactic of simply barrelling through to fight for space. It was in vain however (like before, it won him nothing but dirty looks and swear words) and Arthur was very displeased to find himself squashed against the door with Francis, who looked rather gleeful, standing far too close to him. It irked him how their legs would occasionally bump into each other with every twist and turn the train made as it sped through the darkness. With a small sigh, Arthur had resorted to stare at his shoes, grimacing at the sight of melted snow dripping off them. No matter, it gave him something to do.
"Arthur," Francis had suddenly called out and somehow his mouth was right next to his ear.
He tensed at this, his skin crawling at the how the man's breath wisped across the tip of his ear. "Mr. Bonnefoy," he breathed. Strangely, his voice shook as he said this and he glanced up, clearing his throat. "Mr. Bo-"
The train suddenly jerked around a corner, eliciting a few surprised cries from the flailing pedestrians around them and that was it. Right there. An opportunity had presented itself and Francis did not hesitate to take it. With a slight quirk of his lips, Francis leaned forward and he closed the scarce proximity between them, his hand coming up to clasp around the bright red hand grip beside Arthur's arm.
Arthur gasped and upon acting on instinct, he shoved at his boss's chest. "What are you doing?" he hissed as he felt himself grow increasing flustered as Francis's body was pressed against his. "St-Stop that! We're in public for god's sake-!"
"Francis."
Arthur blinked stupidly. "Wh-What?"
"Francis, Arthur," his boss leaned in closer to speak softly into his ear, his stubble brushing across Arthur's cheekbone fleetingly. "Call me Francis."
Arthur held back a shudder and he gave another push to the man's chest. "What? Don't be daft. Why should…I can't do such a thing. It's not-"
"We're outside the office. It's perfectly fine, Arthur."
Arthur cringed at how Francis's voice had become low and sultry, at how he had that ridiculous fluid-like quality to his enunciation, at how he easily rolled his unimpressive and dreadfully plain name around his tongue as if he was sucking on some delectable candy.
"No, it's not fucking fine, Mr. Bonnefoy," he reasoned, a little glad that Francis couldn't see his face. It was likely to be beetroot red by now. "Now that we've established that, will you please stop grinding-"
The train was finally slowing down. After giving one last push to Francis's chest, Arthur had successfully slipped away from him, much to the man's displeasure. "Well, this is my stop. I'll see you tomorrow, Mr. Bonnefoy," said Arthur in a huff, turning to face the doors. Sure enough the train slowed down and the moment the doors slid open, Arthur leapt across the gap and he pushed his way past the wall of people who moved to board the train. For a moment, Arthur was certain that Francis would tail after him but he was surprised to see that the man had remained on the train, his hand raised up to wave him a goodbye. Arthur stared at him with mixed feelings, his own hand rising up to reciprocate with an awkwardly executed wave. Strangely enough, in spite of how he eager he had been to get away from Francis, Arthur had remained rooted to the spot regardless of how some people had bumped against him as they rushed past and he watched his boss smile through the glass as the doors finally slid shut and the train pulled out of Bond Street station.
Arthur blinked, snapping out of his reverie.
Wait, Bond Street? Not Leicester Square?
Arthur stared at the sign in disbelief and indeed there, in large blinking bold letters flashing across an overhead signboard, was the word 'Bond Street'.
Apparently he had gotten off on the wrong stop and had rode on the wrong line. That was two pounds gone and wasted.
"…shit."
Quick notes: For those of you who are wondering, Arthur was heading to Leicester Square (for the reunion thing with his friends) from Broadwick Street in London. I had chosen this area for Elixir because this street is where Cosmopolitan's HQ is currently at (and I'm too lazy to find another good place in London – sorry!). And so to get to Leicester Square, one would need to take the tube from either Oxford Circus Station or just walk all the way there by foot (which would take around 15-20 minutes, depending on your speed).
Oh! Chocolate fingers aren't chocolates shaped like fingers. They're more like…cylindrical biscuits coated in chocolate? Just google it or have a nibble. It's good to munch on. :D
Translations:
Ah bon (French) – Is that so.
á plus tard (French) – See you later.
Pas du tout (French) – Not at all.
mon lapin (French) – my rabbit.
Salut (French) - Hi