Hey, thank you following/favoring this story. It always feels really good to know one's work is liked.

I will try to keep the paragraphs less heavy in this chapter. I just always like to explore the minds of characters. It's hard not to. I've seen fanfics were it is practically only dialogue and no setting; it drives me nuts.

Anyways, the pressure is on! I will try hard to make sure this continues to be satisfying. Though I wonder how this will flow…I've got the Jessica Jones theme stuck in my head….

**UPDATE: And this was harder than I thought it would be, so I feel like this is complete now. I didn't want this to be drawn out, so here it is then. The final part. But this won't stop me from writing, should any more plot bunnies surface. I do hope I will be able to write more from a fem!America point of view!**

I own nothing here, except my writing, which is FANfiction, ergo, no-profit and all that jazz…

Chapter 2: Long Road Ahead

It was hard to imagine how time continues to move forward and change things. Anne knew that this should be a celebrated thing, but even now, after all these months, it was hard to not fall back into old thoughts; hard not to shy away from his touch sometimes. She still felt the deep recesses of doubt, more often than she cared. And she told him so.

And he understood; slightly pained, but gentle smile, nodding that it was okay to feel as she does. It was always okay, and thanked her for telling him.

Anne had still gone home that fateful night in the German hotel, allowing him to take her to the airport and promising to call and let him know she arrived home safe. They spoke daily, only sometimes tip-toeing around their history. Arthur never pushed her for anything, only assuring that he did indeed still love her with everything he had even when she was still unable to say the words in return. She had still gone on an adventure with Mathias and Gilbert, with his admittedly reluctant blessing and a promise to not do anything dangerous. He had asked her to see him when she returned.

She had enjoyed her adventure immensely. Gilbert had been too hyped to be out and about that he'd never noticed that anything had been amiss, though the Dane picked up on it immediately falling into his big brother role with ease. It wouldn't be until Gilbert took a call from his Bad-Touch group that France had filled him in on what he knew regarding her. And when he burst into her hotel room where she was talking quietly with Mathias, exclaiming about how unawesome a broken heart was, she couldn't help but laugh. Her friends were great, and they'd only doubled their efforts to make their holiday enjoyable.

And so here she was, standing on the steps of Arthur's London flat, hesitating to knock. Come on, she thought, he has proven himself so far, hasn't he? And really, he had. They'd find time to see each other, which was not unusual, but he'd find them quieter places, and would prompt her about her thoughts of their shared past, and what did she feel now, and what could he do? He still hovered close, carefully watching her which sometimes made her nervous. And there was still the occasional gift of a letter or flowers, but he seemed to have dialed it back a bit. Probably to not overwhelm her. Anne harshly blew out the breath she was holding, steeling herself to knock. She could do this! She may have made a fool out of herself all those months ago, but she was still the hero dammit!

"How long are yeh going ta stand there, lass?" Sweet cheese and crackers! Anne nearly lunged into the neighbor's front garden and away from the deep voice behind her. Luckily for her heroic image, she only twitched a bit and turned to glare behind her.

"Scotland. How are you?" She spoke as pleasantly as she could. No fear in this badass' voice. Nope, she was totally fine.

"Tired o' standing here and watchin' yer arse loiter at that," he nodded to Arthur's door," idjit's steps. Now, knock or move, lass, some o' us have things ta do, and I cannae stay here very long 'fore I wan' ta punch him in the face." He finished with a handsome smirk. Scotland was another one of those…fine male specimens, like Denmark, that she had to remind herself she shouldn't stare at; it was rude. Still, Scotland was always fun to be around. He was a gruff sort, could hold his liquor which was perfect if you wanted to simply drink your worries away without someone nosing into them; Scotland didn't have the time or patience for that. And while he was a little rough at times, Anne still liked him; they'd got on well in her much younger years, commending her for her independence (he always took her side whenever England had berated her for whatever social faux pas she'd committed), and their people had a certain fondness for each other; immigration and all that over the centuries. They both enjoyed the Highlander films, and he watched Disney's Brave with her (though that was probably because she'd ambushed him at his home, excited, and practically begged and bribed with a fresh home-cooked dinner). God, what was it about Scotsmen? Anne was going to blame Outlander.

"I—Sorry." Suitably distracted, she'd finally knocked. Few seconds passed before Arthur had answered, smiling wide when he saw her.

"Anne! How lovely to—"

"Oi, little brother." Scotland interrupted, and Arthur's expression immediately turned sour. "Aw, what's wit' tha' face? Not happy ta see me?"

Arthur did not look amused, but Anne had to stifle a smile. They didn't hate each other, but they clashed so much. All of the UK brothers were such tsunderes really; so perfectly dysfunctional. She stepped aside as the elder made his way up the steps, winking at her, and placing an arm around her shoulders. Anne felt herself blush a little, but didn't see Arthur glare harder at his brother.

"Alistair. So nice to see you, brother. I had no notion that you'd be visiting today."

"Aye. I gave none."

"Well, as you can see I have a prior engagement already planned with Anne, to which you are interrupting…" he trailed off, raising a large eyebrow.

"Oh?" he glanced at Anne, who could only nod and then shrug. She had no idea what Arthur had been planning; usually they talk over tea and sometimes went out to restaurants.

"Indeed. So what is it you need?"

"Just some paperwork for yeh; I brought Eire's as well. He didna' feel like coming here." Alistair did not take his eyes off Anne, nor did he stop smirking at her. What? Was there something on her face? She looked away to stare at the neighbor's roses, and discreetly ran a hand over her mouth in case there were any lingering crumbs from her chocolate muffin at breakfast. Arthur held out a hand to make a grab for the sealed envelope in the elder's hand, but the Scotsman just huffed and made his way inside, effectively pushing Arthur out of the way by pulling Anne with him. Arthur certainly didn't want her to smash into him; that would have been painful for them both. But he certainly didn't want his brother meandering throughout his home either. He'd taken time to prepare it for her arrival.

"If you could just hand it over, Alistair, you can be on your way. Now, please." Arthur trailed behind the two.

"Wha? No tea or those burnt rocks yeh call scones to offer? Not verra hospitab—"Alistair trailed off as he saw the dining and sitting rooms from their spot in the middle of the foyer. Arthur felt himself go a little pink. He had his favorite tea set ready in the sitting room with a few biscuits for their tea, their chairs noticeably close together whereas he usually kept his guests respectably distanced, as well as a small gift bag set near his chair. The dining room has place settings for what looked to be rather fancy for a simple lunch, and Arthur had pulled out his fine china. A few candles had been lit in the candelabra in the far corner of the room. Both rooms had fresh roses and soft music wafted in from the study, past the sitting room.

Anne had been watching Alistair, unsure what it was that had stopped him short, glancing about trying to see whatever it was that distracted him. It was as if he'd ever been in Arthur's flat, which was, she could admit, a bit fancy for her usual daily tastes, but that was England for you. Always the finest things. The red-haired man had snapped his mouth shut, glancing back and forth, before turning to Arthur to scrutinize his younger sibling. Arthur seemed to fidget under the gaze, but tried valiantly to remain nonchalant but put upon that the Scotsman had entered his home. Anne had watched them both, having a conversation just with their eyes, and neither wanting to back down from whatever they were "saying".

"Alistair," Anne lightly, cautiously, touched his arm, drawing his attention, "are you alright?" He let out a breath from his nose, looking a bit troubled, "Does the hero need to do something," she asked seriously and he finally smiled, but only slightly. Truly, if there was trouble and the two of them didn't want to say anything…surely she could help, right?

"Aye. I'm alright. Apparently I need ta go…"

"Oh…you don't have to…I mean, if the two of you have things to do, I can come back another time. "

"Not to worry, love. Alistair never stays long, after all. Thank you for these," Arthur had all but snatched the parcel from his brother and stepped back to open the front door, "A pleasure to see you, brother, as always. Give my love to Eire and Wales if you see them before I do."

"Are you sure?" Anne shifted, feeling like she'd nearly seen a brawl unfold before her eyes.

"I'm jus' too late." Alistair mumbled, before smirking hard at Arthur, "Unless it doesna' work, eh, brother?" What? Arthur nearly growled. "Well then, I'll be seein' ya, lass! Don't be a stranger now."

"Of course." Anne smiled at him, "Been a long while since we last hung out. Ooh, I should come back for the games! What do you think?"

"Sounds like a plan, lass." He gave her a fierce hug and an equally enthusiastic kiss on her cheek, and Anne felt her whole face turn dark red. And within seconds he was gone and Arthur had shut his door none too gently. She could've sworn she heard him mutter 'wanker' under his breath.

"So what was that all about?" She asked as they'd sat in the sitting room for their usual tea. Arthur glanced at her a moment before giving a slight shrug.

"Hard to tell with him sometimes. Everything is a challenge. Needn't worry about it, dear. It's just Alistair being Alistair." He took a long, calming sip of his tea.

Anne wasn't really convinced. Something had happened there; she didn't know what, but it looked like they had been one step away from trading blows. Not that Arthur and his brothers really got along, but violence was not something she'd ever witnessed. Or maybe just not around you, her mind supplied. Still, what Alistair had said earlier about being 'too late'…well, it set off an alarm in her head. Maybe Mattie could give her some insight.

"He just seemed really surprised at your rooms. Have you never let him inside before?" Her question seemed to start him a bit.

"No…well…it has been a while…since he's been here…I've made some changes. I'm sure he just noticed it is all."

"But why the huge reaction?"

"I—well, he still lives like a cave troll…practically…yes, I'm sure he is just unused to a civilized home." He sniffed. Anne snorted into her cup.

"You two must never visit each other…"

"Wot?"

"Have you seen where Alistair lives?"

"Kirkland Castle in the Highlands."

"Been inside? It's epic! I mean, yeah, it's full of really, really, old antiques and the like but…you know. Like a live-in museum, and I feel afraid to touch anything...and I guess the upkeep would be kind of hard. But still, it is a pretty cool place; bit drafty though."

"I see."

"Honestly, I figured you of all people would love stuff like that." Arthur had made a non-committal sound as Anne munched on a biscuit. In truth, he did love things like that. And Kirkland Castle was shared by all the UK brothers, so he was very familiar with the old keep. However, he didn't know how he felt about her being there without him to…to…supervise? Clearly his beloved had not noticed, thankfully, but his brother was also quite taken with her. It had come as a shock to him, finding out about it long ago, and he had since been trying to keep their visits with one another limited or at least with himself around as well. He didn't trust his elder brother to be the gentle type…and well, it was his brother. His elder brother who knew damn well how Arthur felt about Anne. He supposed he was lucky that Alistair had never acted upon his desires, but it appeared he was trying to win her affections through friendship rather than courtship. 'Unacceptable.' He thought. 'Not that brute.'

"So Mathias, Gilbert, and I had decided to go snowboarding." Anne pulled Arthur from his musings.

"Oh? I imagine that was fun. I wasn't aware Gilbert even knew how to snowboard."

"Of course. He's very good at it! We wore ourselves out on the harder slopes. Mathias lost his hat more than once that the last time we finally just gave up trying to find it. Gilbert bought him a new one that's fashioned to look like a Yeti! Oh, Arthur, it was so awful looking!" Anne chuckled, remembering Mathias' less than enthused look at the hideous hat, but graciously accepted it nonetheless. Arthur had smiled at her story, and reached beside to pull up a small bag.

"I'm glad you had fun; you certainly needed some diversion."

"Yea, it was fun. So what's in the bag?"

Arthur hesitated a moment before reaching into it and pulling out a small pouch and handing it to her. "I hope you don't mind…well, I don't even know if you remember it, but I pulled it out and had it refurbished and…" he gestured to the pouch which Anne opened and revealed an antique oval locket. She recognized it immediately. When she was little, ages ago it seemed, it had been one of Arthur's first gifts to her; a locket with his portrait painted in it. She had always been sad when he had to return to England, leaving her behind in her colonies that he'd had it made for her. 'So you can see me anytime, poppet.' He had said to her overjoyed child-self. Any gift from England at the time had been received as if it were a gift from heaven. 'And look, sweet, I have one too with your portrait. So I can see you every time I miss you!' And sure enough, he had his own with her image immortalized for him.

"Maybe it was a bit presumptuous, but I thought, perhaps this could be a way for us to…well, to symbolize us starting anew as we have." He pulled out his own locket, the very same one from centuries ago, and opened it to reveal the inside, which held an updated portrait of her. Anne opened the one in her hand to find an updated portrait of him as well. She honestly didn't know what to say. She had thought the lockets lost to time. Or maybe even destroyed after the revolution.

"I…can't believe you still had these." She finally said quietly, running her fingers over the ornate designs.

"Yes…it took me a while to find them." 'Well', Arthur thought to himself, 'that isn't true.' He had in fact never stopped wearing his, had kept updating her portrait, over the years. He had recovered hers from a battlefield during the revolution, and had kept it safe since. And in the most recent decades, it had taken its place in his desk in the study, where he'd pull it out to clean it and place it next his locket of her, as if by doing so he could imagine they were in the portrait together; as if they were together.

"I should have told you I still had them. I just…well, I didn't think you'd accept it again. Do…do you not like it?"

"Oh, it's not that. I'm just surprised. I thought mine was lost forever, at least. Thank you, Arthur. I appreciate it." And what else could she say. Sure, they've reconciled and they were working on strengthening their relationship, to see where it went, but this…well, it meant something. And not in the same way when she was just a child and he was her guardian. This was a romantic gesture; like in the films where the guy gives the girl…like a promise ring or something, or the girl gives the guy a lock of hair. It was a significant gesture, she knew, but did it equate with some manner of commitment? She didn't know, but she didn't want to reject it either. So she simply held it a while longer, steering the conversation back to architecture and interiors, compared Kirkland castle to her old Virginia cottage, before discreetly placing it in her pocket.

Arthur had noted that too, a bit sadly. He'd hoped she replace it around her neck, symbolizing the bond they'd shared, but she had put in her pocket instead. He supposed he was asking a lot and too soon. He knew it, but it was difficult to curb his hope. His hope that one day she would come to not just love him the same, but to welcome his love openly and freely. Alas, not yet.

And so, their time together went on as it always had. And she would go home and he would admire her portrait in his locket, wondering, hoping, that she was doing the same now that her had been returned to her.

Months gave way to ring in the New Year. And Arthur told himself that he would partake of the American tradition of the New Year's kiss…and…hope that she didn't punch him in the face. It was to be a surprise. He didn't tell her that he would be there, in Times Square, searching for her. He hadn't even been sure he could make it at all; only that he wanted to see if they could push forward, even if only a little. Alistair could kiss his ass; dammed git smirking when he recounted his presentation of the locket to Wales. Ya know she is coming to Highland Games, righ'? He commented with Eire excitedly cheering at the news. And so he went as well, much to Anne's surprise.

And as time passed, he'd asked her for her plans for the New Year.

"Oh, I'm going to be New York for work around that time. It's perfect though, I can disappear into the crowd at Times square, watch the ball drop, and then call it a night at my hotel. I'll skip the after party this time; just munch on some peppermint and have some cocoa." She said cheerfully. And so Arthur immediately made plans to fly to New York in time for the celebration; tried his best to conspicuously ascertain where in the massive crowd she would be.

And so here he was, wading through the crowds, trying to find her. He was cutting it close. Getting through the police gates and squeezing past people had been a nightmare. But he told himself it would all be worth it. He would find her to celebrate, present her with a belated yule gift since she couldn't join him then and he had it safely tucked into his coat, and perhaps she'd allow him to join her after. Arthur tried to be as optimistic as possible, but seeing her the Highland games had him wondering if 'friends' was as far as they could ever go.

Scotland and Eire had kept her distracted by the events and even after, at Kirkland Castle where they'd retired after the festivities had closed, the two were never far from her side. Wales had been no help, preferring to relax in the library then help Arthur find reasons to pull them away. In the few times they had some alone time, their conversations had been no different that all their others; pleasant and insightful. She was certainly becoming more comfortable around him, he could tell, but any attempts he'd made to be romantic had been left unnoticed. He'd been subtle for her sake, but perhaps he needed to step things up? And so the New Year's kiss was his plan.

Foolhardy and a tad desperate, but…well, if she rebuffed it then Arthur would stay true to his word. He was a gentleman after all. If 'friends' was all they could be then he would back off and be content with that. But he wanted to know how she felt now; need to know now that it had been over a year since that night in Germany.

His breath caught, feeling nervous, when he finally found her. And it was like that night in the 1860s when she'd finally emerged victorious from her civil war. He spotted her and the rest of the world fell away. And while she was in no fancy gown, in fact she was in jeans and an oversized sweater with a scarf wrapped around her neck and a silly, shiny paper hat that said "Happy New Year", but she was no less beautiful to him.

The countdown had begun and he made his way to her, and she took no notice of it as she gazed up to see the sparkling, gaudy ball slowly fall to the illuminated sign of the year, counting down with everyone around her. She was smiling wide, a palpable giddiness shining in her eyes, and she bounced in excitement. Three. He placed a hand on her shoulder. Two, she turned in surprise to see him smiling at her. One. He hesitated only a second, before finding his resolve. Hoping that should would not reject him. Hoping that she finally, fully realized the depth of his love; finally trusted him enough to allow him to hold her heart. In the roar of the cheering chaos around them he made sure to hold her to him; lightly, not too hard.

He kissed her. And to his eternal happiness, as he would decide that that was what he felt later in reminiscence of their first New Year together, she kissed him back.

And, I feel like this was nowhere near as good as the previous chapter. Rather rushed really, but I could not think of anything else without drawing out over like…10 chapters, and I just didn't want to spend that much time on this. There was the element of Scotland in there, but I felt like he was mostly there to push the couple closer together. And there were a lot of time skips, but I really didn't know what else to do…anyways. I hope you enjoyed the story and this provided some manner of closure.