A/N: Hey there! I'd like to apologize for my lack of fics lately, I'm not in the best environment for writing right now. But here you are! This is for my friend Robin who loves middle-aged USUK.

Before heading out, Alfred double and then triple checked the address of the location the fire alarm had sounded from. Yup. It was the same place as last week, and the week before that, and two weeks before that... It went on and on, and in the past six months, Alfred and his fire crew had been at that particular apartment over fifteen times. They were all counting. By this point Alfred was amused, amazed, and concerned.

"Come on, Alfred!" Gilbert, a firefighter about sixteen years younger than Alfred, called. "Artie's waiting for you!"

The forty-five year old man shook his head and followed the younger out to the trucks. He had no idea when that stupid theory had started, but by now nearly the entire crew was convinced that Arthur Kirkland set fire to his apartment on a regular basis just so he could see Alfred. Alfred was sure that it was Gilbert's doing.

A minute later they were all in the fire engine and on the road. As captain, Alfred rode shotgun and started going over the mental procedure of getting in. Since it was Kirkland and probably a small fire, there were only four of them. Still, it was better to be prepared for anything. The ride over only took them about three and a half minutes, and when they stopped Alfred was the first one out of the truck.

He rushed up into the apartment while the others started setting up the hoses. Some snickers sounded out, but Alfred ignored them. Arthur lived on the second floor, and the American took the stairs two at a time. Even in his mid forties, he was in top physical condition.

Arthur's door was open when he got there, so he let himself in. The Brit was in the living room, pacing and occasionally shooting glances at his kitchen. A singed towel rested in his hands. He was fiddling with it, and his gaze shot to Alfred when he entered.

"A-Alfred..."

"Again, Arthur?" Alfred shook his head and joined him at the doorway to the kitchen. "Where's the fire?"

"I don't mean to do it!" Arthur defended himself, cheeks flushing a furious red. "It's there. On the hob."

Peering past him, Alfred immediately saw what the problem was. Two pots sat on the stove, both of them burning away merrily. Alfred didn't think he would have been able to guess what was in either one of them if he had a whole eternity's worth of guesses. The gas was still on under them, and there were no lids on either pot.

"Arthur. Really, we went over this. You have to turn the gas off and cover the pots. That way the flames will choke themselves out."

"Oh." Arthur's eyes widened as he remembered that information. Alfred had told him that no less than three times. He huffed and crossed his arms. "W-Well I panicked!"

The firefighter chuckled and stepped into the kitchen. Grabbing a pair of oven mitts, he quickly turned off the stove and slammed down a lid onto each pot. The flames inside slowly sputtered and died. Eventually, smoke stopped snaking out from under the lid. Alfred moved to the window and gave a thumbs-up to his crew to signal to them that they weren't needed.

Gilbert gave a thrusting gesture with his hips and winked before starting to pack the hose away.

"You bastard," Alfred muttered, rolling his eyes. When he turned around, Arthur was looking at him curiously. "One of the younger guys thought he was being funny. They all seem to think that you set fire to your kitchen so regularly because you like me." Suddenly, Alfred found that he had to avert his eyes. "I- I mean how ridiculous would that be?" He didn't notice Arthur stiffening in the kitchen doorway.

"Haha, that would be completely ridiculous. I mean who would even do that?" Arthur forced the words out past his own reddened cheeks. "And besides," he added in a mutter. "I don't do it on purpose every time."

Alfred heard the words and froze. "Y-You what?"

"Oh bollocks, did you hear that?" Arthur stared back at him, mortified. He suddenly straightened up and stepped back into his living room. "T-The fire's taken care of now, no need for you to stay-"

"I think there is." Following him, Alfred unclipped his walkie-talkie from his belt and murmured some words into it. Outside, the fire truck pulled away from the curb. "Arthur, you shouldn't put yourself in danger just to see me. I would have happily given you my phone number if you just asked for it."

Arthur sat down heavily in his armchair. "I know, Alfred. I do know what I'm doing in the kitchen, I promise. I like to experiment a lot with cooking and baking, though, and that's where it all starts to go pear-shaped. In the beginning I genuinely had little accidents in the kitchen, but then once my...a-attraction for you grew, I simply didn't correct my mistakes all the time..." He put his head in his hands. "It's quite pathetic, isn't it?"

As he listened to the story, Alfred felt like a teenager all over again. His heart swelled and started beating more rapidly, and he couldn't help but to let a few chuckles escape. "That was cute, Artie, even though it was really dangerous too. Please don't do it again, okay? I'd hate for something to happen to you because of this."

Arthur only nodded. "I understand. I'll do my best to not bother you and your crew anymore." In his eyes, there was no way that Alfred would want anything else to do with him.

"Hey, what?" Alfred stepped closer to him. "I just meant that there was no need for you to put yourself at risk just to see me. Now, let's go out to somewhere where there's no risk of you 'accidentally' setting something on fire?"

Arthur's eyes went wide. "Are you asking me out?"

"Yeah." Alfred grinned at him, taking enough steps forward so he was looming over the Brit a little bit. "I might have started looking forward to seeing you again once I realized that calls from your place were a regular occurrence and never really anything too serious."

Hand trembling, Arthur slowly reached out and rested his palm on Alfred's forearm. "It would be my pleasure to go out with you."

When he was younger, Arthur lamented is lack of a partner. At times he worried that he'd never find the right person to spend the rest of his days with. His brothers had often made fun of him, and their laughter had turned to pity as, one by one, they all settled down. But all his waiting, all the taunts he'd endured, was worth it when he looked at Alfred's face. The fireman was bright and charismatic, he always had a smile on his face when he was leaving Arthur's flat, and here he was giving Arthur a chance.

The smile on Alfred's face broadened. "Awesome. Gilbert won't ever let me hear the end of it, but I can deal with that. Here, give me your phone."

"Ah..." Arthur had to stand and move away to find it, and soon was passing the small device to the American. "Here you go."

Alfred winked at him as he started punching in his number. "Might as well stop giving your neighbors heart attacks every week."

"Yes, I suppose I should." Arthur chuckled.

"Well, come on, then," Alfred said once he was finished. "Let's go out to eat."

"You meant today? Right now?"

"Yeah! I'd have to stop by my place for a change of clothes, but then we'd go right off."

"But- But aren't you on duty?"

"My shift was ending anyway. And if there's a really bad fire, they'll call me. But otherwise, they got it covered. Trust me." Alfred strode over to the kitchen again to check out the remains of the fire. "Hmm."

"What is it?" Arthur came up alongside him.

"You know what? I don't want to leave that alone until it's gone at least almost completely cold. Why don't you take care of it and watch it while I go get changed? Then I'll come pick you up."

Arthur nodded. "Yes, that sounds good." He smiled and showed Alfred to the door. "See you in a little bit?"

"Yeah. See you." And Alfred was gone.

Arthur jumped up when the doorbell rang. He had spent most of the past hour picking which outfit to wear after quickly disposing of the burned food. He had debated whether to go for a cooler or classier look, but in the end settled on his favorite green and gold sweater vest. It was matched with a pure white shirt and some black skinny jeans to break off the formal air. A five minute long debate over the state of the top button of the shirt left it buttoned up, but as the Brit headed to the door, he reached up and undid it.

"Hey there," Alfred said cheerfully once the door was opened. He was dressed in grey jeans and a deep blue sweater. "Whoa. You look...amazing, Arthur."

"Same to you," Arthur replied, hiding his blush by turning and gesturing into the house. "Would you like to come in for a moment? Maybe have a cup of tea before we go out again?"

"Actually..." Alfred reached out and grasped Arthur's arm before he could get too far into the house. "I made us a reservation at this pretty fancy restaurant for...half an hour from now. It's only like a fifteen minute walk from here, and I thought that maybe a stroll will get our appetites up. But we can come back afterwards for some tea and coffee and dessert, the whole deal. How does that sound?"

Arthur paused, then turned back to Alfred with a soft smile on his face. "That sounds wonderful." He hadn't been on a real date in a long time. A date with a handsome, charming man who seemed to be just as interested in him? Arthur couldn't even remember how long ago his last one had been. He estimated that he had been in his early thirties, maybe even late twenties.

Alfred's face lit up, and he tugged Arthur back towards himself. "Come on, then. You have the keys?"

It was such a domestic question. Arthur loved it. "Yes. Let's go."

The walk to the restaurant took them about twenty-five minutes. It was pleasant to just stroll along, and refreshing to see Alfred out of his firefighting gear. As they walked along, the American talked a little bit about his past and how he became a firefighter in the first place.

"My granddad was one back in the twenties, thirties, and forties, so that's what I always said when I was asked. You know, the whole thing in elementary school. 'So, Alfred, what do you want to be when you grow up? Go on, share with the class.' Well when I started growing older, I realized that most kids didn't actually grow up to become what they said they would. So that kind of made me even more determined to be a firefighter."

"That's pretty impressive, Alfred," Arthur said with a smile.

Alfred made sure to ask plenty of questions about Arthur's life and past as well. He found out that the forty-nine year old was an accountant and really wanted to adopt a cat but couldn't because the building he lived in didn't allow them. He had lived in the States for about three years, but in another city with a smaller branch of the company he worked for until he had received a promotion for his excellent work. He had played football (soccer, though he pinched Alfred's arm when the other man tried to 'correct' him) for most of his young life up until the final year of university. He'd come out because the guy he'd been with at the time had pressured him into doing so, and the backlash against him had been immense. Despite being a star athlete and an excellent student, he had been kicked off the team and his teachers had started looking at him differently. Like he was filthy. A couple of them had even tried to fail him on his final dissertation, but luckily the Dean had been more sympathetic so they didn't get away from him. To top it all off, his 'boyfriend' at the time had left him almost immediately afterwards.

"Oh my God." Alfred had actually stopped dead in the street. "What assholes. I'm really sorry that happened to you."

"It's all right, Alfred." Arthur smiled a bit and pulled him out of the traffic flow. "It happened years ago. Now it's just a bad memory."

"Who was the guy?" Alfred's fists clenched at his sides. If he could, he would knock the guy out for doing that to someone like Arthur. To anyone, really. He snapped out of his rage somewhat when he felt a set of smaller, cool hands cup his cheeks.

Arthur's eyes were warm and brimming with affection. "Alfred, it's fine. But if you really must know, it was a Frenchman. Very scruffy and unkempt. I don't even remember what I saw in him. I'm pretty sure he's gone and buggered off back to France by now."

"Well then." Alfred harrumphed loudly. "I'm glad you're rid of him. Let's keep going?"

"Yes, Alfred." Arthur's small smile widened. "Let's keep going."

The restaurant, when it came into view, was a bit more than 'pretty fancy'. It was an Italian restaurant, and one of the best in town while still being decently priced. Arthur gave Alfred an exasperated look, to which the firefighter only grinned.

"I'm paying," he offered.

"Nonsense, we'll split it." Arthur allowed Alfred to lead the way in.

The two of them were seated at the side of the restaurant, right underneath a painting of the countryside. The lighting of the place was lowered a bit for the evening, so the entire restaurant was bathed in a golden glow. A small bouquet of wildflowers sat on the table, surrounded by two small candles.

"This is nice, ain't it?" Alfred asked when they were both settled down onto their seats.

"Yes, Alfred, it is. I don't think I've been here yet." Looking around, Arthur liked the décor and atmosphere. This would become a frequent haunt for them, he absolutely felt it.

Alfred winked at him. "Well then it's my pleasure to bring you here."

A waiter bounced up to them, asking if they wanted some drinks to start it off. Alfred chose to start off moderately with a glass of iced tea, while Arthur went straight for the wine. "Anything but French. A light white one, please," he'd said, to Alfred's great amusement. At the American's raised eyebrow, he quickly explained that he just didn't like the taste of them. Alfred didn't believe him ("Are you sure it doesn't have anything to do with a certain Frenchman you used to know?"), but after a couple minutes' argument he let it go. By then their drinks had arrived anyway.

"No. No, Alfred, come on. That can't be true," Arthur said, stumbling the tiniest bit as they left the restaurant. He wasn't drunk, just barely tipsy but loosened up even more because of the wine he'd had.

"Yeah, I swear it's true! I still fit into my high school Letterman jacket. It's a bit more snug than it was thirty-odd years ago, but it still fits!"

"I'll believe that when I see it, love." Arthur had started to let the pet name slip during the middle of their dinner, but Alfred didn't seem to mind it so he hadn't stopped.

A wicked grin curled onto Alfred's face. "Why don't you come back to my place and I could show you that plus much more." He even added a little wiggle of hips to his step, which drew a laugh from the Brit.

"Hold your horses there, cowboy." Shaking his head, Arthur gave him a fond squeeze to the arm. God, he was growing fond already. "I thought today we were going back to my flat for tea and coffee and pudding."

"Pudding? I'm always up for pudding! What kind is it? Chocolate?"

"Alfred-" Arthur burst into chuckles and pulled Alfred off in the direction of the nearest supermarket. "In England, pudding means just dessert in general. And I don't really have anything at home, but I thought we could maybe go to the market and pick something out? I'll pay for it since you paid for dinner."

"Oh." Buzzing a little bit himself, Alfred smiled and nodded happily. "Yeah, we can do that. That sounds like a great idea."

In the shop, he strode purposefully to the dessert section. There were some good foods there, but right away Arthur saw that nothing really caught his eye. He was about to propose a small cheesecake with cherries on top that they could share when Alfred left the aisle. A soft chuckle escaped Arthur's mouth. Even though he was in his mid forties, Alfred had a lot of youthful qualities about him. Arthur really enjoyed that. It brought out a lot of refreshment to his own life.

He found Alfred in the frozen desserts part of the store, shifting his weight from one leg to the other and a smile on his face. "What have you found, then?"

"C'mere and have a look." Alfred waited until Arthur was next to him before pointing out the dessert he had in mind.

It was a pair of frozen lava cakes. They were the kind heated up in the oven, coming with their own little glass containers and with (supposedly) molten chocolate centers. Arthur hid his grimace. They seemed too sugary for his tastes, but Alfred was looking at the box with such a happy expression on his face that Arthur didn't have the heart to refuse him.

"Those are fine, Alfred," he said. It was worth it, he decided, when he saw the bright grin on Alfred's lips.

"Great. You've got coff-" Alfred paused for a moment, and then he leaned over to press a soft kiss to Arthur's cheek. He moved in slowly, giving the Brit plenty of time to move away or stop him. While his face was still right up against Arthur's, he took the opportunity to whisper right into his ear. "You know what? I'll have some tea tonight. You've got plenty of that, right?"

Arthur had to swallow. "Y-Yes. I've got enough tea for the both of us. And for multiple cups, too."

"Good." Leaning away again, Alfred laughed softly at the dazed expression on Arthur's face and tugged him off to the register.

Back at Arthur's apartment, Alfred made himself right at home. "This is the first time I'm coming in here not for a fire, Artie," he remarked, chuckling again. Since he had been there so often, he knew the layout of the living room, kitchen, and balcony almost as well as the man who owned it.

"Oh you hush." Arthur fussed with his clothes for a moment, then strode into the kitchen. "You'll be coming here for that reason a lot less now."

"Oooh, and what reason will I be coming around for, then?" Alfred placed the lava cakes into the oven while Arthur bustled around making the tea.

The Brit froze in the middle of filling up the bright red tea kettle. He turned the water off and set the pot down before turning to Alfred apprehensively. "Alfred... I know we're still technically on the date, but I've had a wonderful evening. I'd... I'd like to maybe do this again sometime, I don't know how you fe-"

"Arthur." A smile on his lips, Alfred took a step closer to him. "Can I hug you?"

"Yes, why wouldn't you be able to?" Arthur looked confused.

Instead of getting an answer, he was wrapped up in Alfred's strong arms. Time seemed to slow for him then, and the fireman's scent overtook his senses. Their moment together was the only thing that mattered. His head was pressed up against Alfred's left shoulder, and he could faintly hear Alfred's heart beat thudding away below him. When he wrapped his arms lightly around Alfred's waist in response, the rhythm sped up. Arthur smiled at that, and a warm feeling bloomed in his chest.

"Artie, I had an awesome time with you too. I'd love to go out with you again sometime. So don't worry, okay?" Alfred whispered to him. A moment later he let go, but not before pressing a soft kiss to the side of Arthur's head.

"All right, Alfred." Arthur smiled and resumed making the tea. He felt Alfred's eyes on him the whole time and couldn't resist giving a little wiggle of his hips as he brought the full kettle to the stove. Alfred's chuckle brought a smile to his face.

"A show? Just for me?" he teased. "Artie, are you sure you're just an accountant?"

"Alfred!" Arthur shook his head and made a shooing motion at the firefighter's head. "All right, out with you. I can handle the rest myself."

He didn't like the grin spreading over Alfred's face. "Well, Artie, at least if you cause another fire I'm right in the room next door to help you out."

"Oh my God- Alfred!" Arthur huffed and started lightly shoving at Alfred's side. "It's not that bad and you know it!"

Laughing, Alfred allowed himself to be moved. "Yeah, yeah, I know. Can I look around?"

"Yes, go ahead." Arthur quieted down and curled his fingers into Alfred's shoulder. "Just please stay out of my bedroom for now?"

"Yeah, all right."

As Arthur returned to keep watch over their dessert, Alfred padded around the living room. He hadn't had a chance to do so before, so he took the time to examine everything carefully. The walls were painted a blue-grey color, and two paintings hung on them. They were reproductions of famous art; one was of the countryside, complete with farmer and plow horse with sheep in the distance, while the other depicted a ship braving the stormy seas. What looked like hand-embroidered pillows were scattered around the red leather wrap-around sofa. One of them was a Union Jack. An old-looking blue and grey winged armchair stood to the side of it, with a blue blanket slung over one of the sides. A glass coffee table stood in the center of the room, and a set of beautifully crafted wooden built-ins completed the décor for the room. They housed Arthur's modestly sized flatscreen TV as well as some books and a couple of framed pictures. Alfred looked at them and inferred that they were all of Arthur's family, as well as from some traveling he had done when he was door to the balcony was in the kitchen, but there was no need for him to check it out. Instead, he focused his attentions on the hallway. There were three doors down it, two on either side and one at the end of the hall. All were closed.

"Hey Artie? Which door is to your bedroom?"

When he responded, Arthur's voice came faintly. He must have been near the balcony, then. "It's the one on the right!"

"Thanks!"

Alfred opened the left door first. It proved to be the bathroom. He stepped in, looking around. The toilet was across from the door, and the entire right back wall was taken up by the bathtub-shower combination. Next to that was the small vanity and sink. Grey tiling covered the floor, wide slabs of dark grey with a lighter shade of grouting. The walls were white porcelain with shimmering flecks that caught the light. Overall, it was very sleek and Alfred briefly wondered whether it had started out like that or if Arthur made it that way.

He soon left and focused his attention on the door at the end of the hall. He knew it was a two bedroom apartment, but what Arthur had done with it he wasn't sure. Half-expecting it to be a normal boring bedroom setup, his jaw dropped open when he saw the bookshelves. They took up most of the perimeter of the room, lined with everything from encyclopedias and old manuscripts to young adult novels and childrens' books. On the wall to the right of the door was a pull out bed, and near the far left wall was a desk with a chair on either side of it. To the right of the desk stood another winged armchair.

"Alfred?"

The fireman had still been taking everything in, so Arthur's voice behind him gave him a fright. "Oh, Arthur. What's up?"

"Dessert's ready, if you are."

"I'm always ready for a lava cake, Arthur," Alfred said seriously.

Arthur rolled his eyes. "You know, sometimes I think you forget that you're forty-five." He led Alfred back down the hall to the living room, where the food and drink were all laid out.

"I think you're right. But where's the harm in that?" He paused by the table and looked at the Brit. "Where do I sit? Are they both the same?"

"Yes, they are. Sit anywhere."

Alfred took a seat at the bend in the couch, dragging one of the plates closer. Arthur joined him, sitting a little closer than he expected, but he didn't mind that at all. "No smoke or fire alarms, I see. And those look really good," he teased.

Arthur smacked his arm in return. "Oh don't you start with that again. I am a fine cook, those were just – mostly – accidents."

"Heh, Arthur, I know." Alfred's lava cake was gone in mere moments. He licked at the spoon and gazed over at Arthur's portion.

Seeing the gaze, Arthur stifled his chuckles. "Try your tea first."

"It's- Well, it smells good," Alfred said after picking the cup up and taking a sniff. "Way different from coffee, though."

"You talk as though you had never smelled a cup of tea in your life." Arthur's eyebrow arched.

The American only waggled his own eyebrows in response as he took a drink. "Nah, I've had tea before, but not in a while. And I've never had anything that smelled like this. It's real nice, though. Thanks for the cup."

Arthur had a small, happy smile on his face as he listened to Alfred's words. "I'm glad you enjoy it." He slid the remaining third of his lava cake over.

"Thanks." Alfred eagerly tucked into it. "So. Why did you specifically choose this place? I mean, it's really nice, but if you're an accountant you have to be able to afford something...bigger."

Arthur mused over the question. "You're right. I can afford bigger, and better. But it's a nice enough flat, certainly big enough for me and at a good price. And besides, I have a fifteen minute walk to work."

"That makes sense, yeah." Alfred nodded along to his words. "And the cat situation?"

"I don't think I'll stay here for more than five or so years. I really do want a cat."

"You'll have your cat eventually," Alfred told him, giving him a soft nudge.

"Thank you, Alfred. That's a nice sentiment." Already in his mind, he was thinking that he wouldn't mind owning a cat together with Alfred. "And you? Where do you live?"

"It's like half an hour away from here? The other side of town. I get to and from the station – and here – on the subway."

"And- And if there was to be an emergency?"

"I get there in time," Alfred replied seriously. A thought struck him and he leaned over, taking Arthur's hand gently in his own. "Arthur."

"Yes?" Arthur's green eyes went wide at the contact. He sensed the seriousness behind that one word, and his heart leapt up into his throat. "What is it, Alfred?"

"I don't know how else to put it but- I mean, I know I'm kind of nearing retirement, but... Have you considered the risks of dating a fireman?" Alfred saw Arthur swallow and felt his hand tremble. "Hey." He gave the hand a reassuring squeeze. "I don't want to scare you, that's not why I'm saying this. It's an unpleasant truth and I hope to God it doesn't happen, but there is a small possibility that I might not come home after a job."

Arthur had entertained that notion, but not anytime soon. It had slipped his mind, and his time with Alfred was so enjoyable that he further didn't think about any consequences. But now they all came crashing into him like a tidal wave. It was a very real possibility that there could be an accident and Alfred ended up hospitalized or dead. He felt faint, and only Alfred's grip on his hand reminded him that he needed to breathe.

"Are you okay? Arthur?" Alfred wrapped an arm around Arthur's torso and pulled the Brit close against himself. "Arthur, it's gonna be okay. I'm not the Fire Captain for nothing. The chance that I'll die is really, really slim, but I just wanna make sure that you know exactly what you're getting into. Do- Do you still want to do this?"

That brought Arthur right out of his stupor. "Of course!" he cried, head shooting up so he could look Alfred right in the eye. "I- I understand the risks. But that's not going to keep me from enjoying my time with you. I am not the type of person to brush someone aside because of their job." Slipping his hand free, he cupped Alfred's cheeks and pressed his lips firmly to the firefighter's.

"Mmh-" The unexpected kiss caught Alfred off guard for a moment, but before long he was kissing back. He was just happy that the teacups were both firmly on their saucers and on the table, because they would have been surely disturbed as Alfred moved to the side. They fell to the couch, Arthur pinned under Alfred's body and his arms going around the American's neck.

Arthur was in bliss. Alfred's weight felt amazing, and he deepened the kiss by slipping his tongue into Alfred's mouth. He pulled back soon after that, though, not wanting their first kiss to go too far. He smiled up at Alfred, and pushed gently at his body. "Hello there. Mind letting me up?" he asked softly, laughter on his lips.

"Hmm, should I?" Alfred teased, happy for the lighter atmosphere. He hadn't wanted to bring down the mood for the whole rest of the evening.

"Yes, you should." Arthur squirmed a little bit, and when Alfred finally let him up he immediately leaned against the younger man again.

They finished their tea about ten minutes later, though stayed up chatting well into the night. Near eleven, Alfred finally saw the time and jumped. He grinned sheepishly and said his goodbyes, promising to text when he got home safely. Arthur nodded, and before the fireman left, leaned up and kissed him softly before pulling away.

"Good night, Alfred."

"Night, Arthur." Alfred touched his lips and gave one more smile before walking away.

"Arthur, I'm home!" Alfred yelled as he opened the door, maneuvering the large boxes in his hands slowly through the doorframe. He clearly heard the sound of a book closing in the living room, as well as Arthur's sigh and grinned brightly.

"How many times have I told you to stop with that silly cliché?" Arthur asked, but didn't bother getting up from the sofa. He knew Alfred would come to him.

The fireman set the boxes down and toed off his shoes. "Heh, and you know I won't listen! It's too cute!"

The past five and a half years had only made the relationship between them bloom. The rest of the fire crew loved Arthur and were really happy that Alfred had found himself a partner- and such a proper one at that! Even though Alfred had told them not to treat him any differently because of it, he couldn't help suspecting that they didn't call him sometimes if there was a fire. He knew they wanted to protect him for Arthur so they could be together for a long time, but he didn't want the ability of his crew to suffer for it. And he certainly didn't want one of them dying or getting injured in his stead. Still, a very tiny selfish part of him was glad for it and nothing had happened to anyone yet, so he hadn't brought the issue up.

True to his word, Arthur had moved out of his old apartment after about three years from the point of his and Alfred's first date. Initially he moved in with Alfred, but about a year ago they had started to search to buy a place for themselves together. They found this apartment, a two bedroom, one and a half bathroom deal with a large kitchen and living room. They were a bit farther from the center of the town, but the price was so good and the rooms so big that they couldn't refuse. And the best part about it was that the building allowed pets. Hence Alfred's boxes now.

"...Alfred?" Arthur frowned when a good couple of minutes passed and his partner still hadn't walked through the doorway.

"Sorry! Just checking on something!" Alfred's voice sounded strained.

Arthur's brow furrowed more, but just as he was starting to get up, he finally heard footsteps coming closer to him. He relaxed again. "Well hurry up, then!"

"Just wait, Artie, I have precious cargo." Alfred finally stepped into the room, both boxes in his arms. The one on top had two rows of small holes near the top of it, and though it was bigger than the bottom one, the smaller box seemed to be heavier. He saw Arthur raise an eyebrow and smiled again.

"What is that?"

Alfred finally sat down on the armchair across from the sofa. "Well, Artie, it's something we talked about for a long time." And at that moment, a small mew sounded from inside the top box.

Arthur's breath caught in his throat. "Is that...?" He watched as Alfred opened the box and reached in. His hands came back up full of orange and white cat.

It was a small cat, Arthur could see that even as it squirmed in Alfred's grip. White with orange patches and green eyes, it was one of the cutest cats Arthur had seen. And when it grew still as it looked around its new surroundings, the Brit saw that it had folded down ears. A smile steadily spread over his face, and his eyes were glued to the cat's body as it was set down on the floor. It looked around again and stretched, then padded over to Arthur's leg to sniff at the older man's trousers.

"Hello there," Arthur whispered. When the cat looked up at him, he held out a hand so it would be able to smell it.

"Arthur, meet Teacup." Alfred had a fond look on his face as he watched the two of them. "One year two months old, and adopted from that shelter down the street."

Teacup mewled again, and there was an answering noise. Arthur's eyes shot to the box again. He looked curiously at Alfred, and the fireman grinned sheepishly before reaching down to pull out another cat. This one was a bit bigger, with longer fur. It was pure white except for a ring of brown fur around its neck and some brown markings under its eyes. It wriggled in Alfred's grip more, mrowing and trotting over to Teacup the moment it was released. Arthur reached a hand out for this cat too, and it butted his head gently against the limb before pouncing on the smaller cat. Teacup let out a yowl and darted away, but stopped at the edge of the couch to make sure the other cat was following.

"And that one's Hero! One year and one month old! They're both boys, neutered, litter trained and with all their shots and everything. The guys at the shelter said that they hadn't been separated since Hero was born, and I didn't have the heart to take one and not the other. That's why they hadn't been adopted before now, people weren't willing to take on the two of them." Alfred peered at Arthur from under his eyelashes. "But you don't mind, right?"

Arthur watched the cats bound around the room, simultaneously playing and exploring the space. Teacup bumped his head against Hero's and dashed out of the room. The bigger cat blinked, then eagerly followed him. He smiled at that and shook his head at Alfred. "No, love. I don't mind at all. Any more cats you're hiding in there?"

"No, just those two," Alfred said, chuckling and kicking the bigger box away. "In there is just their stuff. Litter boxes and some collars and cat toys. And litter and a bag of dry food too. Just the basics for now. Speaking of which, we should probably set up those liter boxes..."

Half an hour later, everything was done. The litter boxes were set up in the bathroom, and the food bowls in the kitchen. The cats were introduced to every space in the apartment and collared. They had relieved themselves, eaten and drank, and now they were relaxing with their new owners on the couch. Teacup sported a green collar and sat on Alfred's lap, while Hero looked handsome in sky blue and sprawled over Arthur's.

Arthur was rubbing the cat behind his ears and he felt like he could literally see the affection flowing from Hero's bright blue eyes. The fluffy cat was purring loudly, and whenever he paused Arthur could hear Teacup's quieter purrs. He had already noticed that the smaller cat was also more reserved. He played with Hero, but always retained a sort of quiet dignity about him. Hero, on the other hand, was loud and boisterous and eager to show affection.

"This is perfect," he commented, leaning his head on Alfred's shoulder. The American shifted closer to him, somewhat dislodging Teacup. The cat soon settled down across both of their laps, his head against Hero's belly. Hero purred even more loudly.

"I'm glad you think so." Alfred's heart swelled, as it always did when he thought about all he had with Arthur. Underneath the cats, he reached out and took hold of Arthur's hand. The two of them were happy and had everything they had talked about. He squeezed the hand gently and closed his eyes, enjoying the serenity of the moment.

A/N: And there we go, happy ending! Hope you enjoyed!