[Hetalia] Gentleman Don't Chase Outlaws 1/?
Trying to dust off my fic writing for usxuk Sweetheart's Week. I am going to try and continue this story throughout the week. :)
Title: Gentleman Don't Chase Outlaws 1/?
Genre: Adventure, AU
Rating: PG
Word Count: 1184
Summary: In the Wild West, Arthur Kirkland has lost everything all at the hands of one man. He has heard word of a U.S. Marshal who always gets his man. He seeks this man out to help him get revenge.
Arthur adjusted the wide brim of his hat over his face as he tied up his horse to the hitch rack in front of the saloon in the dusty town. It was so different from the America he knew in the east. His family had made a decent living in shipping, but then his brother wanted to find his fortune in the western gold fields. They left home, and Arthur saw his world fall apart.
When he finished with his horse, Arthur glanced at some of the men milling around outside the saloon. They looked rough, but he was fairly certain he could handle them if they wanted any trouble. He was here on a mission, and he wasn't going to let anyone stand in his way.
He pushed into the door and squinted in the smoky darkness. A piano tinkled under someone's inexpert hands. The saloon was fairly empty in the middle of the autumn day. He found his quarry in the corner of the bar, a glass of whiskey in his hand. The man was younger than what his reputation would suggest. Arthur settled down a few seats away, wanting to examine him first before sharing his proposal. He ordered his own glass of whiskey so that he wouldn't seem out of place. He could tell by the way the man serving him raised an eyebrow, that he would never fit in. That man knew Arthur was a foreigner, and Arthur felt that the others could too.
He ignored the eyes on his back as he looked at the man in the corner from over the collar of his jacket. The infamous U.S. Marshall Alfred F. Jones seemed almost too cheerful for a dingy saloon in the middle of the day. Jones' hat was hanging on the wall beside him and a pair of spectacles sat on his nose. He was engaged in conversation with a saloon girl. The young man seemed to be genuinely interested in just talking , the young woman had dropped the sultry pose that attracted customers. They were simply having a conversation.
Jones eyes were a clear blue and he was clean shaven, a wide difference from the other men in the small western towns that Arthur had passed through. He seemed to be full of life. Arthur began to question if this was the correct Alfred F. Jones. Could this cheerful young man truly have taken so many notorious and vicious criminals to justice? Arthur absentmindedly sipped at his whiskey glass as he pondered. He hardly paid attention to the barkeep as he refilled his glass every time he drank it to the bottom.
The whiskey reminded him of why he was here as his problems began to bubble up into the forefront of his mind. He mumbled into his glass, trying to work up his courage to bring them to the smiling man with a reputation for getting his man. Arthur threw him a look and realized the young man was gathering up his hat and jacket and walking out the door...
"Wait!" he said, trying to rise from his seat. He stumbled and found himself face down on the floor. "Wait!"
"Are you alright!?" Arthur heard as he felt hands pulling him to his feet. He blinked, feeling the heat in his body from the alcohol and squinting at Jones' concerned face. He felt his cheeks grow hotter in embarrassment, this was not how he wanted to start this business transaction.
"I am perfectly fine!" he slurred, trying to push him away. He needed distance to ask what he needed. Jones didn't go far. As soon as he let go Arthur felt himself tip again and was promptly grabbed to keep him from collapsing on the floor.
"Let's just get you a room." Jones said hauling Arthur unceremoniously out of the saloon and into the dusty street, "Can't have you doing something you will regret due to drink."
Arthur stumbled along after him, Jones' grip tight. He hadn't been that close to another person for quite some time and he was shocked at the warmth against the autumn chill.He tried not to dwell on the safe feeling that was coming over him. That darn whiskey had made him absurd. He promptly collapsed on a bed in the inn. He saw Jones's worried face for a moment before his mind went blank.
The taste in his mouth was stale when he woke up. Sunlight cast streaks across the wall. Sunset, Arthur jolted up thinking he had lost his chance. Surely, Jones had left the town by now! His moved so quickly his head spun and he found himself back on the bed, groaning. He heard the click of the door and reached for the small pistol he kept in his pocket. His hands fumbled and he knew he would never reach it in time if this intruder lacked benign intentions.
"Are you awake? I managed to snag some food for you." came Jones' voice. Arthur lifted himself up slowly, not wanting to collapse again in front of the person he needed help from. He managed to get himself into a seated position against the wall. Jones looked at him expectantly.
"Thank you, for the food." Arthur mumbled, trying to hide his accent for the moment. He didn't need any assumptions about where he was from.
"Least I can do when you were staring at me all afternoon. Usually people just ask me when they want something though." Jones laughed.
Arthur felt his cheeks heating up, "Mr. Jones---"
"Alfred."
Arthur cleared his throat before continuing, "Well, Alfred. I am seeking to hire you."
Jones tilted his head, curiosity in his eyes. "Who are you after?"
"I want to know if you'll do that for me before I tell you where to find him. This man took everything from me."
"I can find your man, but what do you plan on doing with him?"
"Let's just say my directive to you is dead or alive."
"How about we go with alive, and let the lawyers take care of it?" Jones replied. Arthur wasn't too keen on that, but he figured Jones wouldn't be able to stop him if he decided to put a bullet in his quarry.
"Alright."
Alfred handed him a small notebook. "You go ahead and write down the information so I don't forget it. I'll leave first thing in the morning."
"We'll leave."
"I don't do that. Besides, can a city boy like you even make it out in the wilderness?" Jones teased.
Arthur narrowed his eyes, he hadn't thought it was that obvious... "I made it this far."
"I s'pose you did." Jones laughed. "Alright, I guess we'll be spending some time together Mr?"
"Kirkland. Arthur Kirkland."
"Alrighty, Arthur. We'll leave in the morning."
Jones disappeared through the door, pulling it shut behind him. Arthur went to the food the other man had brought, nibbling on it thoughtfully. Suddenly, his plan did not seem all that well conceived. Perhaps his expectations had been off their mark. He would have to wait and see.
Title: Gentleman Don't Chase Outlaws 1/?
Genre: Adventure, AU
Rating: PG
Word Count: 1184
Summary: In the Wild West, Arthur Kirkland has lost everything all at the hands of one man. He has heard word of a U.S. Marshal who always gets his man. He seeks this man out to help him get revenge.
Arthur adjusted the wide brim of his hat over his face as he tied up his horse to the hitch rack in front of the saloon in the dusty town. It was so different from the America he knew in the east. His family had made a decent living in shipping, but then his brother wanted to find his fortune in the western gold fields. They left home, and Arthur saw his world fall apart.
When he finished with his horse, Arthur glanced at some of the men milling around outside the saloon. They looked rough, but he was fairly certain he could handle them if they wanted any trouble. He was here on a mission, and he wasn't going to let anyone stand in his way.
He pushed into the door and squinted in the smoky darkness. A piano tinkled under someone's inexpert hands. The saloon was fairly empty in the middle of the autumn day. He found his quarry in the corner of the bar, a glass of whiskey in his hand. The man was younger than what his reputation would suggest. Arthur settled down a few seats away, wanting to examine him first before sharing his proposal. He ordered his own glass of whiskey so that he wouldn't seem out of place. He could tell by the way the man serving him raised an eyebrow, that he would never fit in. That man knew Arthur was a foreigner, and Arthur felt that the others could too.
He ignored the eyes on his back as he looked at the man in the corner from over the collar of his jacket. The infamous U.S. Marshall Alfred F. Jones seemed almost too cheerful for a dingy saloon in the middle of the day. Jones' hat was hanging on the wall beside him and a pair of spectacles sat on his nose. He was engaged in conversation with a saloon girl. The young man seemed to be genuinely interested in just talking , the young woman had dropped the sultry pose that attracted customers. They were simply having a conversation.
Jones eyes were a clear blue and he was clean shaven, a wide difference from the other men in the small western towns that Arthur had passed through. He seemed to be full of life. Arthur began to question if this was the correct Alfred F. Jones. Could this cheerful young man truly have taken so many notorious and vicious criminals to justice? Arthur absentmindedly sipped at his whiskey glass as he pondered. He hardly paid attention to the barkeep as he refilled his glass every time he drank it to the bottom.
The whiskey reminded him of why he was here as his problems began to bubble up into the forefront of his mind. He mumbled into his glass, trying to work up his courage to bring them to the smiling man with a reputation for getting his man. Arthur threw him a look and realized the young man was gathering up his hat and jacket and walking out the door...
"Wait!" he said, trying to rise from his seat. He stumbled and found himself face down on the floor. "Wait!"
"Are you alright!?" Arthur heard as he felt hands pulling him to his feet. He blinked, feeling the heat in his body from the alcohol and squinting at Jones' concerned face. He felt his cheeks grow hotter in embarrassment, this was not how he wanted to start this business transaction.
"I am perfectly fine!" he slurred, trying to push him away. He needed distance to ask what he needed. Jones didn't go far. As soon as he let go Arthur felt himself tip again and was promptly grabbed to keep him from collapsing on the floor.
"Let's just get you a room." Jones said hauling Arthur unceremoniously out of the saloon and into the dusty street, "Can't have you doing something you will regret due to drink."
Arthur stumbled along after him, Jones' grip tight. He hadn't been that close to another person for quite some time and he was shocked at the warmth against the autumn chill.He tried not to dwell on the safe feeling that was coming over him. That darn whiskey had made him absurd. He promptly collapsed on a bed in the inn. He saw Jones's worried face for a moment before his mind went blank.
The taste in his mouth was stale when he woke up. Sunlight cast streaks across the wall. Sunset, Arthur jolted up thinking he had lost his chance. Surely, Jones had left the town by now! His moved so quickly his head spun and he found himself back on the bed, groaning. He heard the click of the door and reached for the small pistol he kept in his pocket. His hands fumbled and he knew he would never reach it in time if this intruder lacked benign intentions.
"Are you awake? I managed to snag some food for you." came Jones' voice. Arthur lifted himself up slowly, not wanting to collapse again in front of the person he needed help from. He managed to get himself into a seated position against the wall. Jones looked at him expectantly.
"Thank you, for the food." Arthur mumbled, trying to hide his accent for the moment. He didn't need any assumptions about where he was from.
"Least I can do when you were staring at me all afternoon. Usually people just ask me when they want something though." Jones laughed.
Arthur felt his cheeks heating up, "Mr. Jones---"
"Alfred."
Arthur cleared his throat before continuing, "Well, Alfred. I am seeking to hire you."
Jones tilted his head, curiosity in his eyes. "Who are you after?"
"I want to know if you'll do that for me before I tell you where to find him. This man took everything from me."
"I can find your man, but what do you plan on doing with him?"
"Let's just say my directive to you is dead or alive."
"How about we go with alive, and let the lawyers take care of it?" Jones replied. Arthur wasn't too keen on that, but he figured Jones wouldn't be able to stop him if he decided to put a bullet in his quarry.
"Alright."
Alfred handed him a small notebook. "You go ahead and write down the information so I don't forget it. I'll leave first thing in the morning."
"We'll leave."
"I don't do that. Besides, can a city boy like you even make it out in the wilderness?" Jones teased.
Arthur narrowed his eyes, he hadn't thought it was that obvious... "I made it this far."
"I s'pose you did." Jones laughed. "Alright, I guess we'll be spending some time together Mr?"
"Kirkland. Arthur Kirkland."
"Alrighty, Arthur. We'll leave in the morning."
Jones disappeared through the door, pulling it shut behind him. Arthur went to the food the other man had brought, nibbling on it thoughtfully. Suddenly, his plan did not seem all that well conceived. Perhaps his expectations had been off their mark. He would have to wait and see.