remember the cowboy that loves you so true...

Arthur made a small sound, sometimes he wished Alfred would let things go. Of course with everything that had happened earlier that day, he could almost understand the push. "It's nothing overly important," Arthur said lightly, "you just caught me by surprise." Arthur knew that would just make Alfred dig more, but Arthur was better about most things. He woke up less in the middle of the night form a horrible dream Ivan caused, he could handle loud noises and he was over people yelling at him. Arthur started to like the doctor months ago, after weeks of hardly letting the man touch him out of fear. Alfred knew about most of those things because he had seen them happen. Arthur was not usually around water where he controlled what it did, and he had kept that from Alfred. The American sheriff didn't have to know everything that happened, it was bad enough he would get slightly angry when Arthur would speak about it.

The English deputy gave a sigh, really was something silly he should be over by now, yet his not. "It's not easy to explain," Arthur said after a pause. "It was some water torture that Yao had suggested using when transporting. It's doesn't sound bad, but it really messes with you." Arthur said, his hold on Alfred tightening a bit. "Basically water just drips slowly on your forehead, and you try to brace yourself for the next drop, but it comes when you least expect it. You did honestly catch me but surprise. I should be over it, bur I guess its like everything else that has happened."

It’s not important. It’s nothing. How he hated it when Arthur uttered those two phrases, particularly one right after the other. It was a habit of the Englishman to ignore his own feelings or pass them off as worthless, which only served to endlessly irritate his lover. Alfred absolutely hated it when Arthur pulled the ‘I’m not worthy of your attentions. Just leave me to deal with my issues alone,’ bullshit. It made him one to scream. “Arthur,” He said, his voice going serious as to leave no room for argument. “If something is bothering you, or causing you pain, it is important - particularly to me. Now tell me what’s really the matter.”

Alfred stayed silent as Arthur spoke, his expression purposefully going blank as the anger set in. Water torture - it made perfect sense now. Arthur had been forced to come clean about some of the atrocities he had suffered during his captivity with Yao. The sensitivity to loud noises, the distrust of doctors, and the horrific dreams - all which had continue to plague him. Over the past few months, his paranoia had died down, but it never truly went away.

Water torture, however, was never mentioned.

“Are there others?” He asked quietly, “Other things they did to you that you haven’t told me about?” How much was Arthur not telling him? He had managed to keep the water torture a secret for this long, what was to say that he couldn’t have done the same with something else? Anger began to seep into his system, unchecked and unbridled. Yao had hurt Arthur. He was hurting him now, even when he was far beyond his sphere of influence. How could he have been allowed to do what he did? How could he himself have been the one to subject Arthur to that fate? And now, there was nothing else left for him to do. That was the worst part of all.

“Why didn’t you tell me about this before Arthur? We could have worked through it together, like all the other stuff. I could have been some h-help…” His voice broke on the last word, breaking his mask completely. Had it been anger, Alfred wouldn’t have felt so weak. But as the tears began sliding down his cheeks, he felt more like a child then a man. Useless - that was what he was. He had forced Arthur into selling himself out to a madman and now he couldn’t even be trusted to help him pick up the pieces.

“I’m sorry Arthur,” He managed as he pressed his hands up to his face to cover up his tears. “I’m so, so sorry.”

Arthur fell silent as the American talked. Arthur had kept the torture away from Alfred because he wasn't confronted with it daily, and in most situations Arthur could control what the water did. However it was the only thing he had managed to keep from the American. Loud noises had been everywhere, he shyed away from Matthew once and Dr. Smith for a while, beatings were figured in. His dreams had all covered those, Alfred had been persistent about easing every dream away, and wanted every detail. Still there were still some things Alfred had to get over and life was always in the way, the water had been just a small issue. When Arthur went to tell Alfred there were no more he was cut off.

The Englishman was shocked at the sound of the American's voice breaking and hurriedly sat up. He wrapped his arms around the sheriff's head and rested it lightly on his shoulder. He shushed him for a small moment, just holding him. "I'm the one who should be sorry, Al." Arthur said gently. "I never had to confront it before." He paused for a second. "It wasn't because I didn't trust you, I thought it was something that would just go away, the West is very dry, there is little rain that could have possible frightened me. It was a small problem, I figured if it came up and came up, but if it didn't what was the point in talking about."

Arthur sat there for a little while longer, just holding the American and hoping he didn't destroy the trust between them too much, but he was all out of things to say. Had they been in England, Arthur was sure Alfred would have figured out sooner, but then again Arthur might be over it sooner as well. "Why don't we get dressed, and get something to eat?" Arthur said trying to move forward.

In spite of his humiliation, Alfred found himself leaning into Arthur’s embrace, sniffling pathetically as he tried to hold back his tears. He felt so vulnerable in that moment. Arthur was doing his best to comfort him, although he hardly deserved it. This was entirely his fault, and the Englishman knew it. He hadn’t had the strength to protect him from Yao’s cruelty, and now, months later, he still couldn’t do a damn thing to help. “N-no… If it hadn’t been for me, you would have never had to deal with this. It’s all my fault.” It was his fault Yao had been able to torture him in the first place, it was his fault that Arthur was still suffering, and it was his fault that he was so damn useless he couldn’t provide the love of his life any comfort. His fault - all his fault.

Alfred clung unto Arthur for as long as he would allow. He managed not to break down into a sobbing mess, although his breathing was still shaky. As much as he would have rather stayed locked in Arthur’s embrace, he knew they needed to go and meet with Elizaveta. Besides, given his grievances, he did not deserve the comfort Arthur had bestowed upon him. “Alright…” He said quietly, pulling away so they could exit the tub separately. “Sorry about… all that,” He wasn’t sure if he was apologizing for breaking down or for causing Arthur distress - perhaps it was both. “I’ll try and be better.” The promise was ambiguous, but it was the best Alfred could do at the moment.

He stepped out of the tub and wrapped a towel loosely around his waist. He only bothered to half-dry off before working on the clothing Elizaveta left out for them. Now, he hadn’t expected these clothes to be a perfect fit, given the fact that she didn’t know their sizes, but this… was a little unexpected. The shirt was a simple button down, but it stuck to his chest like a second skin and the arm holes were too tight to be comfortable. The blue jeans he couldn’t even fit over his hips, leaving him to stare down at the pile of clothes in despair. “They don’t fit…” It didn’t ever occur to him that he might have grabbed the wrong pile and he was far too lost within his own self-loathing to care. All he knew was what had started out to be a good, respectable plan had backfired completely. Now he was at a loss what to do.

"Alfred..." Arthur attempted, but Alfred seemed to hurry away from him before he could grab any part of him. Arthur sighed, why was he never good at comforting. He could never say the right things at the right time, and he always seemed to cause the distress. He stared at the water for a few moments before he carefully lifted himself to sit on the side of the tub before he slowly swung his legs around. He reached for the remaining towel and dried himself off for a good measure, before he turned at the sound of the American's voice. Arthur surrendered a small chuckle at the sight of the other is what were most likely his clothes. He carefully wrapped the towel around him, surprising himself with his balance before he hopped over to Alfred.

He started to undo the buttons of the shirt carefully, he never realized how much bigger Alfred was to him. Arthur knew he was thinner for sure, and Alfred was a few inches taller than him, but their clothes always seemed to be to such extremes on the other. He eased the shirt of the others shoulders and carefully off his arms, keeping silent. He knew Alfred was frustrated, he didn't need the wrong clothes and half-assed drying to tell him that. Arthur held tightly onto Alfred's arm as he leaned to pick up the other's towel and throw it on the young sheriff's head. He rubbed as much water as he could from Alfred's hair. He eased back the towel and gave the American a small grin. He pulled at the ends of the towel to bring the American closer to them and gave him a loving peck on the lips.

"Alfred, don't apologize for what happened." Arthur said staring into the other's blue eyes. "It's not your fault, you weren't the one who told Yao to do the things he did to me. Besides, love, I would die in your place with out thinking twice." Sometimes Arthur wished he wasn't so stubborn about things and he told Alfred everything that had happened, but the American had been injured at the time, and Arthur didn't want anything else happening to him. "I didn't tell you because look at emotional you get, and I would rather you be smiling then...whatever feeling this is." Arthur placed a small kiss on the American's forehead. He leveled back and leaned closer to the other's face. "A lot has happened because I met you, love. A lot of wonderful things I never thought would happen, even some of the bad things were wonderful. I've never been this happy with anything before." He let go of the towel and started tugging on Alfred's pants to get the off. "Maybe you should try the other pair of clothes, and then we'll see if we have to go to Elizaveta about the wrong size clothes."

Alfred turned his head away to avoid looking into Arthur’s eyes. He knew what was coming. Even if his emotions hadn’t been on full display, Arthur still would have been able to read him like a book. He knew Alfred was still in need of comfort, and, just like always, he would do whatever was necessary to bring the smile back to his face. Sometimes he wondered what he could have ever done to deserve Arthur.

The young man stayed completely still as Arthur unbuttoned the shirt and worked it off his frame. Once it had fallen to the floor, he lifted Alfred’s forgotten towel and placed it over his head. Although Arthur wasn’t wobbling in the slightest (which was incredible given his injury), Alfred bowed his head to grant the other man easier access as he rubbed the excess water from his hair. Neither of them spoke as Arthur worked, yet it was a comfortable sort of silence - unrushed and without the usual pressures of society. Right now it was just the two of them, one comforting and the other slowly pulling himself back into the reality of the situation.

The soft kiss broke through Alfred’s guilt. He felt the exhaustion creep back into his body as all the negative emotions were wiped clean. Arthur’s comforting words and gestures of affection worked their magic. “I know… had it been you being threatened, I would have done the same thing,” He quietly admitted, his shoulder’s slumping in defeat. The ordeal with Yao had not been his fault - he realized this. But sometimes it was easier to blame himself then to acknowledge that there were forces in his life that were beyond his control. It was terrifying to know that at any given moment, his life could change and there wasn’t a damn thing he could do to stop it.

“I’ve never been happier either…” Alfred stopped and took a deep breath, finally raising his gaze to meet Arthur’s, “I’m sorry, I was acting selfishly. I don’t… I know it isn’t my fault all that happened. But please, I want to know about everything, I want to help… if only to be a means for you to let some of those emotions go.” He reached down and grabbed for Arthur’s hands, blue eyes earnest. “Please, anything you need, anything at all, I want to be there for you.” He stared at him for a long moment before releasing his hands, moving down to slip off the too tight jeans he had been attempting to yank over his hips.

He grabbed for the other pile and found, much to his embarrassment, he had been attempting to fit into the clothing meant for Arthur. “I guess she didn’t mess up the sizes,” Alfred muttered, his cheeks flushed. He dressed quickly and turned his attention back to Arthur. “I’ll help you dress. Just lean back against the tub again and I’ll do the rest.” Just like before, Alfred crouched down before Arthur and began to work the jeans onto his thin frame. He was careful not to jostle around his injured limb too much, but couldn’t avoid it entirely as the coarse fabric slid across the skin. “Are you alright?” He asked as he brought the trousers up to his lower waist.

"I'm the same way," Arthur added lightly before Alfred went to taking of the wrong size pants. He hurried over to tub before his amazing balance left him and he was falling all over the place. He grabbed the shirt, because he could honestly handle putting that on if he leaned carefully. Arthur doesn't want to feel completely useless. He would honestly put his own pants on had Alfred and him just been friends, but that's not the case, and Arthur would much rather someone help him then rolling all over the floor and feeling like a child trying to dress themselves for the first time. He was buttoning up the shirt when Alfred came over to help him with the pants

Alfred was gentle, a little more than he usually was and for good reason. Arthur could handle the dull ache of his ankle and the pain from when it was accidentally stretched too much. The split help keep the ankle to a small amount of moment, but for putting on pants it needed to move a lot more. Try as Alfred might, he couldn't make the process painless, but Arthur just tightens his hold on the tub and wills everything to be over. "I'll live," Arthur said with a strained breath as the pain subsided. He lifted his hips to Alfred could slide the pants on the rest of the way. "Thank you Alfred. I find it rather creepy that Elizaveta guested our sizes so spot on."

Alfred could read the pain on Arthur’s face, but chose not to comment save for a short, but sincere, “Sorry.” He had tried his best to be gentle, but it was nearly impossible not to cause him some discomfort with his injury on such an inconvenient spot. He waited for Arthur to shift away from the tub before tugging his jeans up and over his hips, buttoning the top to finish. “It’s nothing, I’m happy to help.” And that was that, although couldn’t help but laugh a little at Arthur’s comment about Elizaveta knowing their sizes. It was a bit strange how much she seemed to know about them, but he attributed that to her kind and caring nature. Plus, she was a women, and didn’t women just sort of know things? It sure seemed like it at times.

“Eh, maybe it is a bit creepy, but at least we have clean clothes,” Alfred said as he crouched down to once again carry Arthur on his back. “We should go and greet the nice lady though. She mentioned something about supper earlier and…” His stomach growled to illustrate his point, much to his embarrassment. “Well… yeah.” He didn’t feel the need to explain further - Arthur was sure to get the point. “Hop on and we can go get some dinner, you can write your letters and afterwards… I guess we’ll have to figure out what to do next.” He was not looking forward to that conversation, but it was one that was very necessary. They still had those murders to deal with and their home to rebuild and if they hoped to accomplish anything at all, they would need a plan of action. Alfred had a feeling that this would be easier said then done.

Arthur was not complaining about the fact that he had clean close that fit him very well. Elizaveta was very much like his old friend Emma, they both had seemed to figure it out with such a simple ease. The Englishman laughed at the sound of Alfred's stomach rumbling about. He was hungry as well, seeing as how late it was he could understand, his body was kind enough to voice it though. "With a sound like that, I'm surprised you didn't eat the soap." Arthur teased lightly as he hooked his arms around Alfred's neck and carefully eased himself on the other's back. "Oh, and it might be best if you sign the letter to see if we can get some extra help here." Arthur said. The system would still accept Arthur's signature, he was a deputy and a well known one. Yet with his criminal past, not everyone is so willing to jump on his requests for assistance, aside form the townspeople who enjoy him. They were likely to get the amount of help they needed if Alfred's name was on the paper as a signature.

"Now, to feed that beast in your stomach," Arthur said once he was secure on Alfred's back. He attempted to be of some assistance to Alfred, his ankle was hurt, but Arthur could still use his arms. He held open the door, before Elizaveta noticed them and came bounding over with that shine in her eyes. Arthur glared at her, but she seemed to take no notice and led them to a table. It was set, but not overly show, the same metal fixtures everyone used, and a small candle in the middle of it all. Arthur was happy it was rather dark outside and in the inn, for the candle on the table did not come off as romantic as it might have when it was earlier.

She pulled out a chair with a grin. "You two get comfortable while I go get the food." She smiled, giving a bit of a wink, that just made Arthur glare more. What the hell was with this woman?

“Hey! I‘m not that much of a pig,” Alfred responded, his cheeks turning a pleasant shade of pink in his embarrassment. So what if he was hungry nearly all the time and could pack in more food then what was ‘humanly possible’ according to Arthur - he was a growing man! He needed that food! Alfred continued to pout as his fiancé leaned forward and wrapped his arms around his neck. He waited until he was certain that Arthur was secure before carefully standing up. “I’ll sign if you want me too,” Alfred said in response, walking towards the doorway to go meet with Elizaveta. Although the justice system did technically see Arthur as a man of the law now, they were still a bit wary about granting his requests. Having Alfred’s signature was just a security measure to ensure that Arthur wasn’t ignored.

Alfred’s cheeks flushed again at Arthur’s suggestion, but he nodded anyway. With Arthur’s hold the door open, he managed to make it out into the hallway where Elizaveta caught sight of them. That strange gleam appeared within her bright green eyes, making the young sheriff shiver involuntarily. He wasn’t sure why that woman freaked him out so much - she was really a sweet lady. She would always stop to talk with him and sometimes gave him snacks if she had baked that day. But whenever Arthur was around or his name popped up in conversation, she got all flustered and started asking him all kinds of seemingly random questions. He liked her at any other time, but sometimes… sometimes she worried him.

Still, he gave her a grateful smile when she lead them into the small eating area and ran off to fetch their dinner. After all, he couldn’t exactly be too frightened of the women who had prepared a nice meal for them. He leaned down in front of one of the wooden chairs, allowing Arthur to detangle himself from his back before happily taking a seat beside him. Now that he knew he was getting feed tonight, he already felt significantly better. “So how come you’re still going to write that letter?” Alfred asked, looking very much like an excitable child waiting to be given a cookie. “I mean, we have Kiku to help out now. But I guess having some more extra hands will help, especially when we decide to take that vacation of ours…”

Elizaveta was standing just outside the room, wearing a look that could only be described as one of absolute glee. Alfred paled at the sight of her and instantly shut his mouth. The brunette said nothing though, just flounced into the room and set their plates in front of them, grinning widely. “Please enjoy the meal.” With that, she pranced away, leaving the two alone. Alfred coughed awkwardly into his hand. “She um…” How could he say this without sounding completely rude, not to mention unmanly? Alfred glanced at the door before leaning in to whisper, “She kinda freaks me out Artie. Do you ever get the feeling that she… knows something?”

Yes, Alfred F. Jones was a bit slow on the uptake, but give him some credit for noticing at all.

Arthur was always careful when he was getting off someone back, mostly because his brother Scott would just drop him once they had reached their destination. Of course, Arthur had learned to grab on tight when that happened, and a few (painful) times he took Scott with him. But Arthur eased into the chair slightly quicker than usual, maybe it was because Alfred leaned down from him, or he didn't want Elizaveta getting any ideas. He grinned as Alfred sat next to him and not directly across from him, for surely that might have sparked something, somewhere in anyone's mind. The American's question caught him off guard for a moment, and he scowled slightly. Kiku was only one person, and it wasn't fair that he had to look after the whole town today. Arthur's eyes widened as Alfred started rambling off about their possible vacation and then stop mid sentence.

The Englishman turned to see Elizaveta, and he was glad it was just her. He shot her a glare for the look in her eyes, and gave Alfred a sharp, but light kick to the leg for not being more careful. Arthur watched her carefully as she placed their meals on the table (giving her a quiet gentlemanly thank you) and hurried away. Alfred's awkwardness turned his attention back, and Arthur tried to bite back his chuckled. He picked up his fork and plucked a very well cooked chuck of potato from his plate and ate it before speaking. "I believe she knows a bit more than something. How blind are you?" The deputy said with a chuckle. "Don't fret too much, love, she won't tell anyone." Elizaveta made it clear to him she was aware of Alfred's and his relationship, not in full detail, and in his asking, Arthur had confirmed there was indeed more than friendship between them. However, she kept it a secret well, and was always careful how she worded things in public.

"Now about the letter," Arthur said, showing he was clearly moving away from the previous conversation, "I don't think it's fair to have one extra man." He plucked at his meal politely, almost in the business like manner his father had forced him to learn. Arthur hated the fact that it sort of came out when he was talking, planning, or pointing something out to Alfred while eating. "One person can't look out of the town, if the other two are compromised, much like to day." Arthur sighed, "Besides, for now we know I can't do much for a week, but it could be more. Kiku deserves some rest, and we have a lot on our plates as it is. We need more than three people for this town." Arthur somewhat wished he didn't have to include Kiku, he wasn't technically part of their team. Both him and Arthur were on thin ice with each other, but the man had willingly looked after the whole town by himself and that had to say something.

There was so much they needed to tend to that extra help would be greatly welcomed. Arthur was not in a position to be completely all about the two and it's safety. There was a killer out there, someone who burnt down their house, and not to mention the plain mystery behind everything. Alfred and him need a new house and clothes, and plenty of time off when everything was over. Arthur sighed at the thought of everything. He let his shoulders drop, he could really use a drink. A nice solid glass of something that burned going down and made him forget everything he had to do. "You think we could get some whiskey?" Arthur asked out of the blue, surprising himself slightly.

The humorous twinkle within Arthur’s emerald green eyes was his first insight that he had missed something. Arthur only got that look when he was trying desperately not to laugh, which usually happened directly after Alfred said something very, very stupid. This time around, Alfred’s blush went all the way up to his ears when Arthur clued him in. “S-she knows?” How long had she known? How long had Arthur known that she knew? How was it that he didn’t notice any of this?! Alfred was absolutely mortified when all the seemingly unconnected events that centered around his encounters with Elizaveta suddenly clicked together. “Oooh…” Alfred made of noise of sudden understanding, embarrassed that he hadn’t noticed before. Man, he really was slow. “So she’s alright with it then? That’s good… but that still doesn’t explain why she always asks me about the locks on our doors and windows…”

Alfred helped himself to the plate of food as Arthur spoke, recognizing that the other man was in ‘business mode’. He chewed thoughtfully as he considered what the other man was saying and nodded when he understood his point. Three lawmen wasn’t much better then two when it came to protecting a town this large. If they ever hoped to have any downtime, they would need to enlist the help of at least one or two others. “I see your point. You write up the letter and we’ll both sign it. If we send it out by morning, maybe we’ll get lucky and have a couple new men within the week.” That was an optimistic estimation, but they had gotten rather lucky with Kiku’s appearance, who was to say that it couldn’t happen again?

Now that they had decided upon that, Alfred allowed himself to relax and enjoy his meal. It wasn’t often that he had a chance to enjoy a warm meal this good (he wasn’t much for cooking and Arthur more or less burned everything he tried to prepare), so he did his best to savor the delicacy. Unfortunately his stomach had other plans. Before long, his plate was clean and the last remains of what had been a delicious plate of cooked meat, potatoes, carrots, and freshly baked bread had wound up on his face. Damn, and he really had tried to pace himself that time too. Oh well, at least his stomach was satisfied.

Alfred glanced up to Arthur, a bit surprised that he was asking for whiskey of all things. He knew first hand what Arthur was like when he was liquored up, but he didn’t see the harm in letting him let go - lord knows he deserved it. “Let me see what I can do.” He stood up and went to find Elizaveta, who happily handed him a half full bottle of whiskey. He thanked her once more for her kindness and quickly returned to Arthur (she freaked him out even more now that he was aware she knew of his little secret). “Here,” Alfred handed off the bottle to the older man, setting two glasses on the table as well. “Have at it.”

Elizaveta was a little more than alright with them being together, she was...Arthur didn't know how to put it politely or without making it seem like he really should arrest her. Arthur gave Alfred a small smile, Elizaveta was the least of their worries, especially if Arthur stayed on top of their privacy. He was happy Alfred saw his point, about the extra help. He nodded at the comment about when they would get men. They had been extremely lucky with Kiku, and Arthur made note to suggest him in the letter (hopefully nothing bad would come of it), the man had arrived at the right time. "Let's hope so, I'm not going to be good for much this coming week." Arthur said.

A peaceful silence washed over them, and it was nice to sit there and not have something from Alfred limited cooking knowledge. However he was rather shocked the America went to go see if he could get some. "Alfred, you don't...have...to..." Arthur watched in complete awe as the other went off to find some liquor, before turning back to his plate and eating the rest of his meal quickly, like it was going to run off his plate. There's wasn't much left to begin with, and he was able to neatly stack Alfred's and his plate of to the side of the table. He grinned to himself at how good everything had tasted and how full he was now. He swallowed the last bit of food when Alfred came back with a whole bottle of whiskey (not full, thankfully).

Arthur took it from him and examined it. He still had letters to write, he doesn't want any bit of them coming off as some drunk drowning away his problems. But one glass won't hurt, would it. It might be nice to have by his side as he wrote his letters. He poured some whiskey into the two cups, a rather generous helping for both. "I should get to writing those letters." Arthur said with a smile as he grabbed a glass and took a drink. He enjoyed the feeling of it going down his throat.

There was still work to be done before the morning sun rose, Alfred knew this. But seeing smile that had appeared on Arthur’s face when the bottle of whiskey was set down before him made the young American quite unwilling to monitor his alcohol intake. Yes it was irresponsible (and it certainly wouldn’t do either of them any favors to have an intoxicated Arthur), but this was an opportunity that was rare. Besides, Arthur would be unable to do much anyway because of his injury anyway… so Alfred didn’t see the harm in letting him drink. He could do with a little relaxing.

Alfred smiled and took a seat beside Arthur, taking the glass he was poured. “Cheers,” He said, raising his glass as Arthur sipped at his own. The whiskey burned a bit as it slid down his throat, but he smiled regardless. He wasn’t much fond of liquor, but he appreciated it’s rarity. “Not bad,” He said with a sight shrug, taking another sip before setting the glass down. He might treat himself to more later, but at the moment he felt obligated to keep watch over Arthur. He didn’t mind if Arthur got a little drunk and loosened up. He did however mind if he started getting frisky or silly while they were still in public. Although Elizaveta approved of their relationship, he had a feeling that the rest of the town wouldn’t be too pleased to know about it. So, for both their sakes, he would remain sober enough to take care of Arthur when he, inevitably, surrendered to the alcohol.

Arthur got to writing the request letter first before he got even the slightest bit tipsy. Elizaveta had been kind enough to place some paper and writing utensils out for Arthur to write with. It was a very sweet gesture, but it meant she was listening on them. The Englishman tried not to think too much about it, so he didn't go grabbing for his glass much. Arthur was never sure who he should address such important letters to, he still wasn't that aware of the law system of the States, and in learning it in the lawless West doesn't make it easier. He simply addressed it to Whom it may concern, because God probably only knew that. Besides people weren't stupid they would figure it out. He wrote quickly, his handwriting not something people usually saw possessed by a deputy. Arthur always blushed at the complements towards his hand writing, doesn't matter if he thinks it was sloppy or not do to his speed. He finished writing, took a good drink of his whiskey, before rereading the letter.

To whom it may concern,
This letter is to bring to your attention the needed assistance in the town under the watch of Sheriff Alfred F. Jones and Deputy Arthur Kirkland. The town had been reasonably manageable before this point, of course with strain on the men who worked to keep it safe. It has been brought to our attention that that is no longer the case. Recently a young criminal network has been feeding off the town. The current size or who is in charge is currently unknown. Our housing was burned down as a distraction for five murdered men that had been captured from the network. I, Deputy Kirkland, was harmed in the blaze and am sentenced to minimum labor by the town doctor, due to an injured ankle, for a week, but there is a possibility it could be longer. The town can not be watched by one man.

However we were lucky, a day before the fire, a man by the name of Kiku Honda seeked employment with us. He said he worked under a Sheriff named Ludwig. Currently he is still in the process of achieving employment with us, but he had been of help in the current events. We only request a few men. Three at the most. We please request that this will be done in a timely matter, for there is much to be done and little force to do it currently. Thank you.

Arthur figured it was good enough, there wasn't much else he could say. He quickly signed the letter and passed it to Alfred. "Let's pray that gets something done," Arthur commented. The Englishman grabbed is glass and drink the rest in it. He poured himself another glass, figuring he could write the letter to his mother some other time.

Alfred had to give Arthur credit - he had stuck with his original plan of letter writing, even with the temptation of alcohol sitting right before him. The young sheriff scooted his chair and leaned over Arthur’s shoulder to read over the letter. Perfect penmanship accompanied with an eloquently worded letter, just like always. Arthur was one of the few lawmen of the west who bothered with courtesy or even complete sentences when sending correspondence with other men throughout the system. Alfred couldn’t help but tease him about it upon occasion, but in truth, he enjoyed watching Arthur write. He was always looked so thoughtful when he inked his thoughts down onto paper. His letters were never sloppy, never rushed, unlike Alfred’s own scrawled handwriting. There was something about the way he put so much time and effort he placed into carefully constructing each letter. It was beautiful.

Alfred took the letter and quickly signed the bottom, marring the overall beauty with his untidy signature before folding it up. He would ask Elizaveta to have it sent out tomorrow morning, but he already felt better knowing that something was out of the way. “I’m sure men will be dispatched as soon as this letter reaches them.” With any luck, they would have a few new recruits by the end of the week, but that was an optimistic estimation. More likely they would have to wait two or three weeks before anyone answered their letter. The west was so vast and sending messages across the scorching desert was no easy task. Still, he chose to look on the bright side. Thankfully they had Kiku to help out and for the time being that Arthur was out of commission, he was grateful to have another pair of hands.

He took another sip of whiskey, letting out a sigh and the liquor burned his throat. “Shall we head back into the bedroom?” Whoops, that sounded a little bit suggestive (although Arthur did tend to become more openly affectionate when he was drunk…). Still, there was always the possibility of somebody listening in - Elizaveta was bad enough. “I mean, there isn’t much else we can do before morning. We might as well rest while we can.” Alfred was already standing, ready to once again carry Arthur back to their shared bedroom. He thought better of this though and nodded to the bottle. “Take it with you. I could go for a little more booze tonight.”

Arthur smiled at the comment about the men coming within the week. It wasn't likely to happen, but Arthur didn't know. He had always been a bit realistic about things, Alfred was the more optimistic, but the help was still need. No matter when they arrived, Arthur would most likely not be at his fullest. "Let's hope so, Kiku and you are not going to last long." Arthur teased lightly, sipping at his drink. The alcohol was starting to get to him, he felt himself loosen up, his smiles came easier. Of course he still have more control over himself than he would if the glass was his third. Arthur was tipsy when he finished his second glass, but he sure as well wasn't drunk.

He chuckled at Alfred's comment about going to room. He tilted his head before he rested it on his hand. He watched Alfred clearly struggle with the right words to cover up what he felt might be a mistake. The American was cute like that. Arthur laughed with what the younger came up with. There wasn't much they could do in public for the night, however Arthur could think of a very long list of things they could do behind closed door and no one to judge them. "You'll probably have to start early tomorrow," Arthur hummed as he watched the sheriff get to his feet. He grinned at Alfred, who looked like he was ready to scoop him off and carry him off to where ever their room was. Arthur turned to the bottle the moment the other nodded at it. "We'll need the glasses," he pointed out, scooping them up and stacking them carefully, noting that there was still some in Alfred's cup. He reached for the bottle, he took hold of its neck and grabbed the classes before looking at Alfred. "How is this going to work?" He questioned, looking at both his filled hands, his mind clearly knowing he could not hold onto Alfred in a sensible way of being carried.

When the lighthearted teasing began, Alfred knew that the Englishman was well into his ‘happy tipsy’ phase. The young sheriff smiled and humored the older man with a teasing pout. “We’ll handle ourselves just fine until the new recruits come in,” He said, glad to see the usually tense Arthur smiling so easily. He wished that Arthur could find relaxation like this easier to come by, or at least by other means besides alcohol. It was difficult to remove oneself from the trails of everyday life, he understood that, so when he got the opportunity, he cherished the sight of Arthur’s real smile - untainted by all the bad feelings of the world.

Alfred could tell that the slightly inebriated Arthur was trying to work out how to keep a hold of the bottle and glasses while simultaneously holding onto his lover. Although he had been warned not to previously in the night, Alfred felt that the only sensible thing to do was to carry the lithe man the way he had originally wanted to. “Hang onto that stuff, I’ll take care of it.” Instead of crouching down to allow the older man to loop his arms around his shoulders like he had done previously, Alfred wrapped his arms around Arthur’s shoulders and legs, hoisting him up against his chest so he could still easily cradle the bottle and glasses. He wasn’t sure if Arthur was quite drunk enough to be okay with this, but he didn’t give him much of an opportunity to start making a scene if he wasn’t. Alfred headed out the door into the hallway, taking long steps in order to reach their room more quickly. Although he wasn’t particularly worried about anybody spotting them at this time of night (save for Elizaveta, but thankfully she wasn’t around), he didn’t want to take any unnecessary chances.

When they reached the room, he knocked the door open with his shoulder. Gently as he could, he set Arthur down on the bed before doubling back to close and lock the door. He certainly didn’t want any late night visitors, no matter what the circumstances. Once he knew they were more or less safe from prying eyes, he sat down beside Arthur and smiled. “Well,” He said, grabbing his glass and drowning the rest of the whiskey inside. “How do you feel about doing a little more boozing and snuggling before we hit the hay?”

Arthur gave a small yelp when Alfred picked him up, almost spilling the full glass as he pulled his arms close to himself. He blinked slightly when he realized how Alfred was holding, however he sort of shrugged it off (he was just drunk enough to let Alfred get away with it). It was late and if Arthur could look like he was possibly passed out a sleep it might help Alfred to come up with a reason why. He snuggled into the American's shoulder, taking in his wonderful smell. The Englishman's eyes slid close and a small grin formed on his lips. He held the bottle and glasses closely, and let himself just fall into the comfort of Alfred's arms. Of course, he was quickly knocked out of it, for Alfred's attempts to open the door caused him to perk up a bit.

He helped ease himself onto the bed. He carefully unstacked the cups and daringly stuck them on the bed. He grinned at the sound of the lock clicking, something he doesn't mind at all when Alfred does it. He was pouring himself another generous cup when Alfred snatched up his own. Arthur hummed with excitement at the idea. "I like that idea." He poured more into the sheriff's cup, grinning as he did so, before leaning back and manged to not knock too many things of the nightstand with a simple "bollocks." He took a gulp of whiskey, looking at the American rather dazed from the alcohol. "I'm already boozed up, we need to work on you," Arthur said pushing at the bottom of the American's cup. His control of himself was starting to go, he could feel himself tipping slightly to the side, and the facts of the day started to be stirred up from the alcohol.

This must be what it felt like to have a normal life. He wasn’t sure if it was the booze or the influence of Arthur’s carefree smile, but all of a sudden he felt as if all his worries had vanished. He found himself relaxing against the headboard beside Arthur, laughing like tomorrow would never come. “Alright, alright, alright.” Alfred waved off the intoxicated Brit and drowned the rest of his glass. It burned his throat and dulled his senses, but he couldn't find it in him to care much. He wasn’t as much of a lightweight as Arthur was, but that didn’t mean alcohol didn’t affect him. The morning seemed so far away and under the gentle glow of candlelight, Arthur’s flushed face looked even more heavenly than usual. Alfred grabbed the bottle, took another long swig before diving for a kiss.

He meet Arthur’s full lips with eager passion that had reminded him of the beginning of their relationship. So much at changed since then. Their names had become all but legendary with the downfall of Ivan’s criminal empire and they had both been taken on as lawmen of one of the largest settlements in the untamed west. But he still found his heart fluttering every time his lips connected with Arthur’s. Alfred let out a soft moan and tilted his head to the side, desperate to get closer. “Arthur…” All his duties and obligations slipped away as he deepened the kiss.

He pulled back just enough so that their lips were no longer touching, but their short gasps of breath mingled. “Arthur… I want to…” Oh there was so much he wanted to do, and with all the alcohol he had consumed, he had quickly forgotten why he shouldn’t. He began to hastily undo the buttons of his own shirt, tossing it aside to be retrieved in the morning. Once that was out of the way, he leaned in to pull Arthur into another heated kiss. It no longer mattered that in a few hours he would have to ride out and be responsible for the safety of the town. All he could comprehend in the heat of the moment was Arthur’s searing flesh and the dizzying effects of whiskey.

Arthur chuckled as Alfred finished his refilled glass, as he gently nursed his own. His control was barely hanging on, and it was simple and relaxing that the last sensible part of Arthur did not want to ruin the peace. He watched the American as he reached for the bottle, slightly surprised, but too drunk to actually raise an eyebrow at the man. The Englishman was surprised when his mouth was suddenly attacked the sheriff's eager lips. He replied quickly, pushing back with as much drunken force as he could manage. There was the thick taste of a reasonably good whiskey on their lips, and Arthur angled himself to just get another wonderful taste. This was lovely, laying on a bed kissing the man he loved like tomorrow wouldn't dare show it's face, because Arthur was sure he might shot it. His glass slipped out of his hand, spilling the alcohol on the floor and shattering with the greatest of ease. This was home, and it always would be, Arthur was still slightly depressed about their actual house. He didn't think to much about the fact, for he became more concerned with the American wanted.

"What, Alfred?" Arthur asked panting and trying to close the teasing distance between them. "You want to what?" He wasn't sure if he was going to ever get a worded answer as his shirt was pulled away from him. There was a slight chill of the night, but Alfred swooped him away with another heated kiss. Instantly his hand went for the other's collar, pulling hard to keep him close and then one hand sled down to the American's buttons. He attempted to rub his hips against Alfred's, but a sharp pain stopped him briefly, but he got over it and ground as best he could. "Alfred?" Arthur said pulling away for a breath. "Tell me what you want to do." Arthur rarely became impatient, usually when he was drunk or something was taking way long than it should have. Arthur is usually a tease in such situations, but the heat enough was a tease for him.

The alcohol had done it’s job well. All the responsibilities of tomorrow had been forgotten in the heat of the moment, leaving only their insatiable desires left to be quenched. Even the usually immovable Arthur was getting impatient for intimacy, and Alfred was all to willing to comply with his every desire. “I want to make love to you,” He breathed, pulling back to rid himself of his own shirt. Once his arms were free, he tossed the annoying bit of fabric off to the side where it would remain, forgotten, until morning. Breathless already by the sight of Arthur’s flushed face, Alfred leaned in and eagerly pressed his lips against the Englishman’s for another round of heated kissing.

Alfred lost himself then. Whether it was the booze of the feeling of Arthur’s chapped lips against his flesh, he didn’t know. Before he knew it, he had managed to somehow strip the other completely naked. He had enough sense to thankfully realize that Arthur was still injured and had taken extra care when removing his trousers. Even so, he laid an apologetic kiss against his thigh to make up for any pain he might have felt. “I love you…” Alfred whispered before going in for another sweeping kiss.

Somehow, in the midst of their kissing, Alfred had managed to find his way on top of Arthur. His half naked body hovered over Arthur’s beautiful pale one, only dipping down occasionally to teasingly brush their groins together. “Arthur…” He nipped at his shoulder, “Are you up to this? I’ll stop if you want to me too… We’ll go as far as you want tonight sweetheart.”

((I'm so, so, so sorry this took as long as it did! School as been kicking my ass!))

At the words "make love to you", Arthur's drunken mind had been made up there. They were going to get go all the way with this, no stopping, Arthur was sure of it. The heat is too much for him to even think about stopping anything. He watched Alfred discard his shirt lazily, before Alfred was kissing him again, and he can feel his clothes being pushed off him. The Englishman giggled at the thrill of it all, and he's easily aroused, he was pretty sure his erection started at the first hungry kiss Alfred gave him. His ankle gave small shots of pain, but Arthur was really too drunk to actually care about it, or complain, seeing as Alfred kissed him on the thigh and Arthur let out a throaty moan of pleasure from the simple kiss. God, why is he so easy when he's drunk? Maybe that's why regulars use to buy him plenty of drinks before they took him to bed. Arthur laughed to himself in the middle of a kiss before moaning as Alfred ground against him for a split second, the feeling of his jeans all the more arousing on Arthur's length. His body arched, wanting as much of Alfred as it could get up against him.

Arthur threw his had back as Alfred nibbled on his shoulder. "Why would you think I would want you to stop?" Arthur questioned drunkly, drowning in a moan. He worked his hands into Alfred's hair and gripped it tightly, his body arching, but this time to Alfred's lips. "Just take me...after all where the bloody hell am I going to go tomorrow." Arthur said lowly with a slight teasing tone. He giggled again, maybe he wasn't all that easy.

((No it's fine, school's been giving me a few kicks this week.))

Did alcohol always make Arthur act like this? Alfred remembered him acting cuddly and certainly more emotional than usual when he drank, but he couldn’t recall the Englishman ever being that affectionate. Perhaps it was just the atmosphere or the fact that the both of them truly needed this. Either way, Alfred wished he would have thought to do this long before now. Not that he was particularly attached to drunken sex, but having Arthur so loose and willing to push off his responsibilities in favor of treating himself to a little love and sex was wonderful. Of course, they couldn’t pull this kind of stunt all the time, especially now that they had gotten word of a new crime ring starting up underneath their feet. But just for tonight, he was willing to overlook all that. They deserved this one stolen night of passion.

Alfred wasted no time. As soon as he was given permission to carry on, he dove forward to meet Arthur for another heated kiss. His fingers wandered down Arthur’s sides, coming to rest on his hipbone. "I'll take you," He promised heatedly, pressing hot, wet kisses against the curve of Arthur's neck as he stroked the soft skin inside his inner thigh. "I'll take you to the moon and back sweetheart." No more words were spoken on the subject. Had he not been inebriated, Alfred might worried that allowing such a corny phrase would cause his proper English fiance to wack him upside the head. But thanks to the numbing affects of whiskey, he found himself delving deeper into the intensity of the moment, his usual inhibitions falling away completely.

Alfred kissed his way down the pale expanse of Arthur's chest, leaving little love nips and flicking his tongue over the tender portions of skin. When he reached Arthur's hip, he pushed open his legs and slid further down the bed. Instead of tending to the swelling erection the older man was currently sporting, Alfred did something he had never done before in the bedroom - he lifted Arthur's hips, leaned forward, and pressed a kiss directly to the puckered flesh of Arthur's entrance. He didn't know why he did it, it simply felt right. Going with his instincts completely, Alfred began to lightly trace a circle around the skin, teasing it his fingertips brushed across Arthur's length.

After a few moments of teasing, he pulled back and began fumbling with the bedside table. Although he doubted that it would contain any oils or lubrication, he thought it best to check anyway before he opted to use saliva. To his surprise, there was a neatly placed bottle right in front, ready to use. "Huh," he commented lightly, but gave it no further thought as he coated his fingertips with oil to make the preparation easier. "Tell me if you feel any discomfort," Alfred said, slipping one finger inside Arthur to begin stretching him.

The moon? That was pretty far...right? Arthur just shrugged it off to himself, it seemed rather far collectively. However taking him to the moon and back was not going to be enough in his drunken state. "Alfred..." He called at the tail end of a moan, "you have to take me hard too." He said drunkenly, his hands messing up Alfred's hair in his please. "I'm a criminal, I need you to take me like you would any other criminal." Arthur wasn't sure why in the world he wanted it at the moment, but he did. Their sex was always rare for the pleasure and love of the other, they rarely did anything like this, not that Arthur minded, their dirty talk could be more exploring than their actual nights in bed. "Please, Alfred." He begged as Alfred started to kiss lower down his body.

He allowed his legs to be spread open, as he propped himself up on his elbows to get a better view of what Alfred would do. Arthur's erection was fully at the ready for anything, and Arthur expects Alfred to find someway of tending to it lightly, but then his hips were lifted up. Arthur's interested now, alcohol as always made him impatient and slightly over sensitive, both in body and emotion. However his green eyes widened and a blush spread across his face like wildfire as the American kissed his entrance. His head fell back with a move as it was lightly tended to and provoked his lower area. Alfred gave it a good amount of attention before he pulled away and moved to the bedside table. Arthur is still laying in the wake of the wave of pleasure that had just been delivered to him. At least he was conscious enough to watch Alfred lazily.

The Englishman wasn't all too surprised when the Sheriff found a bottle, he just smiled drunkenly. He nodded at Alfred's command, though he knew it was never comfortable and Alfred was good about not causing him extreme discomfort. Spreading his legs to give Alfred more access he relaxed as best as he could on the bed. He always blushed at the feeling, but this time he covered his mouth from the small moans that escaped. Alcohol did make him way too easy.