A/N: Standard disclaimers apply, and I really should be working on my NaNo instead of new fanfiction, but... sigh, the grass is always greener right?

While he didn't make himself search the pitch black woods all night, suffice it to say that Alfred didn't get more than an hour of sleep. He kept staring out the window at the rose garden, half hoping that he would spot the fairy out there again, and hoping he hadn't scared it off by getting that close.

Fairies were real. It wasn't an easy fact to swallow anymore, not like when he'd been a kid. There really were fairies. Or at least one of them, but he didn't want to think of the green and gold one in the roses being alone in the world. That was just sad.

He ran a hand though his hair as he stumbled down the hall towards breakfast. Just found out they existed and he was already worrying about the little thing. Like he knew how to help one anyway, if it was in trouble. Could chase a cat off maybe, but that was it. Of course, his brain was so stuck on that thought that he barely heard Matt's good morning on the way to the fridge to grab the orange juice, or Francis' exasperated scolding when Alfred took a swig directly from the jug. What he did notice, however, was the container of cream that the French man had for his coffee, and it gave him an idea.

"I do not think that new good will materialize if you stare long enough, Alfred," Francis said, reaching over the teenager's arm to shut the refrigerator door.

Alfred puffed his cheeks out in irritation at the comment, at least until he remembered why he'd been staring into the fridge in the first place. "Hey, what was it that Mom said about cream and fairies?"

The sudden question made Francis blink in surprise, glancing back at Matt as if the younger boy would have more of an idea what his brother was talking about. Without much result of course. "Fairies? Well, that you put out milk and honey to appease them. But I think we know that's just a silly story. Part of the little fairy tales she told you two when you were babies. The only thing you'll do putting out milk is attract all the cats in the neighborhood to the back door."

"Do we have any honey?" Alfred asked, clearly ignoring most of the older man's response as he pondered whether or not it would make a decent peace offering to their guest— No, the fairy had probably been there first, so their neighbor then. Without really listening for an answer, he walked into the pantry, which was still mostly empty, to poke at the shelves. Hm, no honey. "Think maple syrup would work instead?"

"You're not using my maple syrup!" Matt called in from the kitchen, that rare edge to his voice that only showed up when guarding his precious maple or talking about hockey. (Never, never insult hockey in front of Matt.) The edge that told Alfred not to cross him on that particular subject, really. Or else. And Matt could get mean with a hockey stick.

Ooookay then, finding something else to use. Maybe he'd just walk down to the corner store and actually get some honey himself. Or would just mixing sugar into it work?

As Alfred reached for the canister, he had to pause as what he'd started planning caught up with him. He was putting out an offering to a fairy. Somehow, he didn't think that his life could have turned so weird so quickly if they'd stayed in the States. He gave a half laugh and pulled his his hand away from the canister. Maybe this was just a little too weird for him after all.

"You know, I think I'm going to go on a walk to clear my head. Didn't sleep well last night, haha," he said quickly as he rubbed the back of his neck. Alfred ducked into his room to pull on clothes, rather doubting the neighbors would appreciate him walking around topless first thing in the morning. Too bad for them, because he was HOT.

"Don't get lost," his step-father called after him as Alfred headed out the door and onto the front walk. When the teenager just waved over his shoulder and shut the door behind himself, Francis sighed. What was he going to do with that boy? More like his mother every day.

Alfred kicked a small stone along the sidewalk as he headed down the street. From the looks of the other houses in the area, some of them could have easily been a hundred years old or more. Which, for an American raised kid, was pretty odd to think about. Though still not as weird as the thought of there being a fairy in his backyard.

He felt like he had a million questions to ask the little thing. Which stories had them right, which were just entirely made up? How long did they live? How long had that particular one lived there? Alfred was pretty sure it could talk, considering he could have sword it cursed at him as it flew off.

Well, he supposed that he first thing he found out would be if the milk and honey thing was true. If memory served, there was a small corner store a block... that way. Alfred swung a left and went into the store (so it was two blocks, sue him) and came out a few minutes later with a jar of honey. He wasn't going to risk being murdered in his sleep for touching the maple, even if he'd gone over the deep end deciding to really do this. Maybe if he showed the fairy that he was a nice guy, it'd stick around long enough for him to talk to it. The thought made him smile a bit as he headed back towards the house.

Alfred was pretty sure that his family thought he was insane for going through the effort of warming a pan of milk to properly dissolve the honey into it, but he wanted to make his chances of this working as good as he could. He poured it into a shallow bowl and carried it outside while it was still warm, looking around as he debated where to set it down. Maybe down by the rose bushes? That seemed to be where the fairy had been each time Alfred had seen it. Yeah, that would work.

Walking slowly to make sure it didn't spill, the teenager carried the bowl over to the rose bushes and knelt down to sit it among the roots of one of them. It wasn't until he lifted his head, ready to stand and go back inside, that it saw it. And it saw him.

The fairy was sprawled over a large red rose in full bloom, green eyes wide as it (no, the fairy was a he wasn't it?) stared back up at him. Neither of them moved, holding their collective breath. Alfred finally decided to make the first move, wetting his lips to speak. "...hey." Alfred Jones, expert speaking he was not. But then the fairy jerked and his heart leapt up into his throat. "Please, don't run away!"

He reached out without thinking, quick fingers closing around the tiny body, trying to be gentle as he could. The smallest of hands pushed against his much larger ones and what he'd just done caught up to Alfred.

"Shit, shit, sorry!" he said, staring at his hands but not opening them right away. He hadn't meant to grab him, but now that he had he was sure that if he just let go now, for sure the fairy would fly away and he'd never see him again. "Sorry, I really just wanted to talk to you. If I let go, will you stay a little while, please?"

The pushing stopped as there was an extended silence. Alfred had started to wonder if the fairy understood English when a hesitant response finally leaked through between his fingers. "...just a few minutes."

Well, he'd been right about the fairy being male going by that voice, and Alfred offered a broad smile as he opened his hands again. Of course, the fairy's scowl up at him was expected, but the question of whether or not he deserved it was interrupted as he noticed something... odd.

"What the hell's wrong with your eyebrows?"