13I'm back with another story because I can't seem to write for the others properly. Yet. So I'm taking a break from them. Anyway, this fic is inspired by one of my all time favorite movies: The Proposal (staring Sandra Bullock). So watched it a while ago and... hey, what would it be like in an USUK/UKUS context? Funny, I thought. So here it is! Although at some point it drifts completely from the movie, so don't expect it to be 100% identical.
Disclaimer: I don't own the characters, the show or the movie and I'm making no profit out of this.
Also, I plan to make chapters shorter but update them more often. Plan to. Reviews are always appreciated!
Thud!
The pile of papers slammed on the desk.
"I fucking hate him!" Alfred puffed, fishing through a layer for napkins or a cloth.
"Welcome to the club," a co-worker commented, her eyes locked on the computer screen. "What did he do this time?"
"See this?" The American pointed at the wetness on his chest. Half his tie and shirt were soaked and the coat got splashed too. "It's tea. He threw his tea on me because it wasn't the brand of tea he wanted. How does he even know what brand it is?" He snatched a napkin, which he rubbed on his chemise. An exasperated groan slipped through his lips when the spot wouldn't disappear. "What does the brand even matter? All tea tastes the same!"
"You got away easily, though."
"It was hot tea!" Alfred tossed his coat over the back of the chair, then loosened his tie. "And it took me two whole hours to get him that cup!"
After another minute of struggling with the napkin, he gave up, choosing instead to lower into his comfy chair. Not as comfy as his boss', not leather either. He wiggled his toes into his shoes – he barely felt his little toe anymore. It had been squeezed to death the entire morning. Some nerve tingled, so it must have been still functional. As if that wasn't enough, he had to run half the neighbour for a specific type of tea, got chased by an odd dog and almost hit by a car because he crossed the street on red. He even made it back in time. And all the shit he went to just to have the tea spilt on his clothes. Just because it lacked milk and it wasn't the right brand. Wonderful. Not like Mr. Little Devil even mentioned the brand he desired.
After being an assistant for three years, Alfred decided that every cell in his boss' body must have been filled with malice. If the devil ever took a human form, it had to be Kirkland. How else could a man so little be so evil? So annoying, so demanding, so ungrateful, so bitchy, so insufferable, so-
"Shit!" The blond jumped on his feet, swiftly turning to the co-worker on his left. "Gimme your shirt!"
"What?"
But Alfred didn't have time to wait. "Now, Jeff. I gotta get back. Meeting."
Getting the hint, Jeff complied without any remark. Everyone knew how settled the boss was on attire and one would have hell to pay if he presented in front of him dressed inappropriately. Whatever the reason. A spotted chemise fell under the inappropriate tag. Therefore, in less than five minutes, the young assistant grabbed the one folder he was ordered to bring and dashed to office. He closed his eyes, took a deep breath, forced a smile on his face and knocked gently. He pushed it opened without waiting for approval.
His eyes shifted from one occupant of the room to the other. An unknown man took the comfy chair while Kirkland stood in front of him. Without making a harsh comment about it. Something didn't fit. The silence was maddening and the eyes staring at him in expectance only added to it. Choosing not to prolong the awkward moment, he lifted the folder.
"You want it now or later?"
He noticed a smirk on the Englishman's face but it disappeared as quickly as it appeared. He wasn't sure he wanted to know what he interrupted. He had the feeling it would end up with a scolding of some kind and he wasn't in the mood to put up with any more of Arthur's shit.
"I'll come back later."
"Oh, don't. You came just in time."
He swung the door open a moment too late.
"In time for what?"
"You asked me why I couldn't leave."
The words rolled off Arthur's tongue like poisoned honey. While they were directed to the stranger, Alfred wasn't sure he was safe either. Calm and calculated as always, but he recognised it as the tone Kirkland used whenever he won a contract or buried his adversary in misery. The victorious voice. The suit-n-glasses dude was in deep shit.
"I cannot leave because..." The Brit rubbed his lips together, glancing at his assistant for one split second. Not good. On a regular basis, it meant troubles. "We're getting married."
The room fell silent again. We're getting married. The words played over and over again in Alfred's head but he seemed unable to grasp them.
"You're what?" The stranger gave them a doubtful look, the glasses slowly sliding down his nose.
"We're what?" The American asked almost in unison. Did Arthur just say they would marry? No, impossible.
Yet somehow the very same Arthur slipped to his side. Furthermore, he patted his arm in a supposedly affectionate manner. It came out as a little edgy, though.
"Getting married. Soon."
"We're getting married?" His expression was a perfect mix of bewilderment and amusement. It was too surreal to be serious. However, the quiet plead – actually, it appeared more like an order – in those green eyes seemed pretty serious. "We're getting married... Hah, yeah, can you believe it?" He beamed, snatching his boss' hand and squeezing it a little too hard. The young man forced a bright smile, although he whispered between his teeth. "I can't." If he pulled this out, he could think about a career at Hollywood.
"No," the suit guy replied unimpressed. "I can hardly believe it."
Alfred felt the Brit tense. For once, he looked nervous. What's the deal with this guy? He'd never seen anyone making Mr. Little Devil sweat.
"I think this is just a facade to escape deportation." Oh. Now it made sense. "I hope you are aware of the test, which will prove that this... joke is just a poor attempt to delay the inevitable. Of course, when you fail the test, you'll be deported, Mr. Kirkland and you will, Mr..."
"Jones."
"Mr. Jones, will be charged." Charged? "Now tell me, when's the wedding?"
"June."
"June? But...of course!" Apparently, Arthur got his shit together. Did he plan all this? Alfred wouldn't have put it past him. "It's the perfect month, with cherry blossoms and sunny days and... it's... great."
The immigration official hummed, still doubtful. "Where will it be?"
"New York."
"Texas."
They answered in sync. Giving a warning squeeze, which surprised Alfred, the Englishman smiled to the official. "I would have preferred New York but my baby-boo insisted on Texas. I'm still working on convincing him."
Baby-boo?
"It will be Texas." No way would he agree on New York.
"I'm not going to Texas... darling."
"Oh, yes, you are. And we can go riding, just like you always loved!"
"Riding. Of course." Arthur let out a breathless laughter as he turned to the official. "I believe your business here is done, so, if you'll excuse us, we need to make the final arrangements for the wedding."
"I understand. Spare me an invitation, though. Duty calls."
"Naturally. A good day to you, Mr. Smith."
"To you too, Mr. Kirkland." The two shook hands. "Mr. Jones." The suit-n-glasses man nodded to the young blond.
"See ya."
The moment the official exited, Arthur withdrew his hand with a deep sigh. "Were you trying to break my bones? Bring me some ice."
Alfred looked at him in disbelieve. That was it? Pretend it was nothing?
"No."
"I beg your pardon?"
"No, I won't bring you ice. Aren't we gonna talk about this?" He waved his hands in the air to emphasise his point, then thrust them towards the door.
"There's nothing to talk about."
"You said we'd marry!"
"Yes, and you did a good job playing your role. Congratulations. Now go get that ice."
"No! You don't get it! I don' wanna marry you! And anyway, I'm already engaged! No, no fucking way am I going to jail for you."
"Don't be overdramatic, you won't go to jail. The test is simple, we'll have to answer a few questions and we're free to go. I'll give you a list with everything you need to know about me and you shall do the same. Once we pass the test, we make a small wedding in June and divorce after a year."
Alfred blinked at him, mouth hanging open. Was he for real? It couldn't be that easy.
"Do you need a scheme of the plan?"
The assistant shook his head. "Did you hear what I just said?"
"Of course I did, but did you? You might not be the brightest but I believe even you can follow a plan that simple. Otherwise I don't know why you're still employed here." Arthur made a 'shoo' gesture towards the door. "Ice, please."
That's it for now! So what do you think?