As the youngest CEO his company had ever had, Alfred F Jones had been to England plenty of times. But he was definitely not prepared for what was waiting for him this time around. Pairing: Alfred/Arthur (America/England)

A/N: Oops, I accidentally started this little fic in between chapters of Finem Pax Romana. It will be short, just three chapters long, has a little bit of gore(I didn't mean for this fic to turn out so gory gomen), and is just generally disappointing. So if that sort of thing doesn't interest you, I don't recommend reading this fic. It's not too bad, though. Reviews are much appreciated! (EDIT: Shit there's character death.)

A/N: ALSO, my werewolves are based off of the Skyrim werewolves. I just think they are really amazing and powerful. uwu

This wasn't Alfred's first trip to London, and it certainly wouldn't be his last. He went to and from England often these days, business reasons, mostly. But not this trip, this trip was more of a vacation for the busy American. It took nearly a month of his brother pestering him to take a holiday, which he eventually agreed to, of course. He knew he would give in eventually, it was just a matter of when.

"Come on Alfie, you work way too much. We both know how much you're stressing right now, so don't even try to deny it. Hey! Maybe you'll meet a cute little British boy who drinks his tea with his pinky up!"

Alfred rolled his eyes when he remembered Matthew's convincing argument. Alfred wasn't looking for a relationship right now, and especially not one that would involve a five-hour time difference. Right now, he just wanted to enjoy the fresh air in one of London's small, inner-city parks.

It was late march, and on either side of the cobbled path Alfred meandered along, pink clouds of cherry blossoms bloomed. Their petals littered the path and the freshly mowed grass surrounding them, and Alfred watched his feet as he walked down the straight road with his hands in his pockets. It was still much too cold for the American, but it wasn't so bad that it deterred Alfred from lazily shuffling over the cobblestone in the park, his hands stuffed in the cozy pockets of his unzipped bomber jacket. The park wasn't busy today, which was nice. A few people dotted the grass on the side of the path, sitting happily among the fallen cherry blossoms and chatting cheerfully with their friend or lover. The occasional cyclist would speed past Alfred, and often he would pass a stranger or two walking with a companion, sharing a polite wave or nod of the head.

Alfred had been walking all morning, working out some of the stress of his job through his legs. It was his first day London, and he planned to stay for a full two weeks, making this trip the longest he had ever spent in a foreign country. It was nice, he thought, and he was looking forward to seeing a lot of sights that he typically missed when he would stay in London for work.

He approached a shiny black bench. His feet were starting to ache, so he figured it was time he stopped to rest for a few moments. He angled off towards the bench, taking a seat next to a man who was already sitting there, holding the local newspaper high as he read from its pages. Alfred glanced over at the front page. The headline was written in big, bold text.

"Gruesome murders still go unsolved, killer remains at large"

Alfred winced, but read on.

"The search for a killer continued two weeks ago when yet another mutilated body washed up on the banks of the Thames. Officials speculate that the body was already a week old when it was discovered. Missing large chunks of flesh and having dozens of bite wounds, authorities are attempting to push it off as a rabid dog attack. But, being the eighth death in a series of similar attacks in the past two years, many are disagreeing and fear for the lives of themselves and loved ones. Continued on page 9"

Alfred grimaced. He hated hearing bad news, and could barely even stomach something as grotesque as mutilated bodies and and flesh torn from bone. How could someone do that to another human being? Somewhere in his mind, he desperately hoped it had been a dog after all. He tried to shake the thought, to no avail. He needed something to take his mind off of the gruesome words he had just read.

"Nice day, ain't it?" He spoke at the man who was seated next to him.

He lowered his newspaper slightly, enough for him to peer over the top and eye Alfred suspiciously. His hair was loose and blond, and it fell over his thick, dark eyebrows. His eyes were a brilliant green, so brilliant that Alfred thought they even looked animalistic.

"Isn't it."

"What?"

"Isn't it," this time the stranger repeated it louder, his accent was heavily British. "It's a nice day, isn't it."

Now Alfred understood.

"Nice day, isn't it?"

The Brit took a deep breath and turned the page of his paper. "Yes, I would say it is. The wind is barely disturbing my reading. That's saying something this time of year."

Alfred's eyes darted to the headliner again. "Have your read about those murders? The ones with the mutilated bodies and the killer on the loose?" Dammit. He started the conversation to get away from the thought of those bodies, yet here he was. Sometimes he couldn't get that mouth if his to behave.

"Yes."

Alfred waited for the stranger to continue. When he didn't, Alfred continued for him.

"So? What do you think? Do you think there's actually a human being out there who could do that to someone else?"

The strange man glared at Alfred over his newspaper. "Don't be daft. Of course it's not a murder. Those were obviously dog bites." The Brit's words settled Alfred's nerves a little, that was something he needed to hear. But he was still not satisfied.

"But what about all the other attacks and stuff?"

"Coincidence." The Englishman was silent as he focused on his paper.

Alfred was unsure of what today next. "My name is Alfred!"

"Arthur."

"Pleased to meet you, Arthur!"

"Likewise." Arthur never took his eyes from the newspaper. He was silent again.

A few moments went by before Alfred spoke again. "Whatcha reading about?"

"America's impending economic collapse."

"Hey, I'm from America!" Arthur sat his newspaper down in his lap.

"No kidding." Alfred failed to recognize the Brit's sarcasm.

"Yep! I'm here on vacation! My brother, Matt, made me do it, but I'm totally liking it so far. I'll be here for another two weeks!" At this, Arthur's interest actually piqued.

"Two weeks you say? Are you here alone for that entire time?"

"Yep! I'll be outa here next Friday! I invited Matt to come, but he had to turn me down. Had to work. Kind of ironic, actually, because the reason he made me take a vacation was because I was working too hard. That kid deserves a break just as much as I do, you feel me?" Arthur knitted his distinctive eyebrows together.

"Yes. So where are you staying?

"Just at the Lancaster, down the road a ways. Why?"

Arthur raised his eyebrows. "Just curious." He paused, yawning and stretching his arms over his head after sitting on that bench all morning. Alfred watched his mouth open wide with the yawn, and he got a very clear look at Arthur's unique set of teeth. His canines were longer than usual, which wasn't overly uncommon, but still struck Alfred as interesting. The Brit's other teeth seemed sharper and more carnivorous as well, but Alfred thought he might be seeing things at this point. Arthur lowered his arms.

"Say, if you're not doing anything later, how about you and I get a drink together?"

Alfred was ecstatic. "Woah, I'd love to! Do you got a place in mind? 'Cause if you don't, I totally know-"

Arthur cut him off. "It's 'do you have' and yes, I do."

.

Hours later, Arthur sat next to the obnoxious American, leisurely swirling the alcohol around in his shallow glass. He had been half-listening to Alfred talk for the last twenty minutes, the never ending words just spilling out of his mouth.

Arthur couldn't believe this. His next meal had just sat down next to him in the park and started a conversation. He had a little under a week to gain this American's trust, but he knew it would be easy. He's feasted on his type before, and he knew that blind trust was an easy feat to achieve. His stomach growled as he watched the American talk, and he knew he would eat well when the full moon arrived next week. After all, he was growing sick with the distasteful meats he would pick up at the supermarket.

He took a tiny sip of the alcohol in his cup. The American was talking about his home in New York City, and his job running a corporation of some sort. Arthur could not care less. He just kept his eyes on Alfred and pretended to be interested in the conversation. He had to admit, Alfred was definitely something to look at, he had dirty blond hair, and an abnormal sort of cowlick that stuck up from the part in his hair. His face was handsome and his eyes were a pretty blue color, and he wore small spectacles that sat haphazardly on his nose. His scent was of fast food and and expensive smelling cologne, and Arthur thought he could pick up faint traces of something else, but is keen sense of smell was diluted by alcohol and this petty human nose. He had already had three drinks to Arthur's one, but he showed no signs of slowing down as he spoke on and on.

"Arthur? Arthur!" The Brit snapped out of his trance at the sound of his name. "Are you even listening to me?

"Of course I am." This was his only reply.

"Then what did I just say?" Arthur stopped, he had no idea. He considered taking a guess, but he thought better of that plan. His face scrunched up.

"Something about America, no doubt." Alfred furrowed his brow.

"Nope, I asked you to tell me about yourself! I've been goin' on about myself for ages. I want to know about you now! Like do you have any brothers or sisters? I told you about Matt, back at home." Arthur felt silly, and even a little embarrassed. Despite this, he answered Alfred's question truthfully.

"No. I am an only child."

"What about your parents?"

Arthur's eyes darkened. His parents died long ago. They met a morbid and untimely death decades ago, and Arthur did not want to remember the sight of their mangled corpses that lay destroyed on the wooden floor of their tiny cottage in the woods. It was partly their fault, however. They knew what would happen if they tried to stay with Arthur over the course of the full moon, He had told them to go, to run far away. They were convinced that they were safe with the chains that were shackled around Arthur's wrists, but even today, Arthur could remember too clearly the ease with which the chains snapped under the pressure of his enhanced strength just minutes after he had turned. He tried to hold back, he tried to turn away. But the beast that invaded in his mind had other plans. They just looked so succulent, so easy and helpless as they tried to run, and he hadn't eaten in so long...

"They are long dead."

Alfred's cheery face immediately filled with false sympathy. "Oh... I'm sorry, dude. I didn't realize..."

No, don't apologize. I don't want your sympathy. It was my own fault.

"No. It is quite alright. It was a long time ago."

Alfred's face reverted to normal as he tried to change the subject. "How about a girl? Surely you have a girl?

Actual pain filled Arthur's gaze this time. He took a deep sip of his alcohol, finishing off what was in the small glass.

"I had someone once, but he's dead now."

Alfred's face filled with horror. "So you don't have anyone now? You're completely alone?" Arthur was going to need more rum if this conversation was going to continue. How could this American be so insensitive?

"Yes."

"So you're just like me then!" Arthur doubted that he was anything like this American. "I mean, I got Mattie, but he's not around too much. The kid lives up in Canada. Speaks French and everything. Other than him, though, I don't really have anyone else... Well, there was this guy I liked this one time, but he only liked me back for my money." He paused, rubbing the back of his head. "That relationship didn't go over too well..."

Ok so maybe Alfred was a little like him. That didn't mean anything.

"Hey! Maybe you and me could do something together!" Arthur was glad to hear that, even if it wasn't grammatically correct. The American seemed to like him, and that was good if he was going to lure this oblivious fellow somewhere where he can feast safely. He wasn't being careful enough lately, what with his leftovers showing up in body bags on the local news. He was going to have to be a little more discreet with this one.

"We are doing something together."

"No, I mean something else! I'm looking for someone to show me around London, hint hint, I can't be expected to see everything on my own. I was going to just rely on a pamphlet from my hotel lobby, but that's not as fun, if you catch my drift."

Arthur raised an eyebrow, and his lips nearly curled into a smile. "That sounds lovely," he lied.

They made an appointment to meet in the park tomorrow morning, the same park that Arthur sat in reading his newspaper when this bubbly American showed up in his life. Arthur promised to show him the sights of London like Alfred had asked, and the cheery man smiled and laughed excitedly, as if everything was okay. For the remainder of the evening, he talked about his penthouse in New York as if he was ever going to see it again. With every smile that graced Alfred's face, Arthur's stomach growled painfully with hunger. It wasn't until the evening was over that Arthur realized that this was going to be a very long week.