To Serve And Protect. [R18]

"You said not to hurt him," Braginsky corrected Alfred, surprised. "I am not hurting him at all. I would not go against a request from a friend. If I wanted to hurt him, I'd do this." Braginsky squeezed impossibly harder and Arthur let out an agonised gasp, face going completely white. The pressure let up after only a moment, but it was enough to still Arthur's struggles. "I would advise you to release me now, friend Alfred."

Arthur tried to shift his wrist within Braginsky's grasp in order to assess the damage. It was only sore for now, but if Braginsky decided to use his monstrous strength for a longer period of time, Arthur's bones would definitely fracture. 

"Of course your hurting him." Alfred argues before he sees what he does next. His own face grows more worried and it has nothing to do with their fake relationship or the case anymore. This man is hurting someone he cares about and he isn't sure what to do. If he keeps trying to get Ivan away then Arthur could get hurt, if he does nothing then.. well Arthur could be hurt still. Which route was he supposed to take?

Alfred had never been one to sit back and wait for things to happen so of course he keeps his hand where it is. He decided that this has got to be better then doing nothing. He could just as easily hurt Ivan he bets. Not that he wants to hurt anyone but..if he has to. He increases his own grip on the Russian's wrist, his other hand in a fist.

"Just let him go and I'll let you go...Fair trade, right? Otherwise..well you don't need a replay of our last fight do you?" Alfred is nothing but serious now.

"Am I hurting you?" Braginsky asked curiously, looking down at Arthur. "Really? It hurts? I am not holding very firmly."

"Yes," Arthur snarled, wanting to try and jerk away but deciding that it wasn't worth the risk, "bloody fuck, yes, you're hurting me!"

Braginsky let go with a puzzled frown and Arthur staggered back a few paces, cradling his wrist to his chest. The bruising was evident now, but luckily that seemed to be the worst of it. They were large and finger-shaped and were quickly darkening. How could someone so strong not understand that it was easy for them to hurt people, however unintentionally? Ivan Braginsky was not only overly strong and somewhat oblivious to that strength, but he also didn't seem to have adapted to the American lifestyle and norms. Who the hell had let him out of his country?!

"You are correct," Braginsky said to Alfred. "Friends should not fight amongst themselves. And you are my friend, yes?" He glanced at Arthur, and had the audacity to actually look contrite. "I did not mean to cause him harm, friend Alfred."

Alfred literally sighs with relief as Ivan let's go of his partner. He keeps to his word and let's go of Ivan as well, dropping his hands to his sides. All this was exhausting him.

He nods in Ivan's direction at the question. "Yes, friends but you've GOT to watch what your doing!" He stresses. It the guy didn't really mean it then he really needed some social training. Alfred didn't mind helping but so far he hadn't proved to be the best learner.

Alfred turns to Arthur once again hesitantly. He is afraid that he will move away from him again. He really wants to check on him though. The bruises already becoming visible alarm him slightly and he wonders if he should take Arthur to the medic this time. He thinks it would be rather stupid to ask if he was alright again so he opts for asking. "Do you need any help?.." Ok, maybe that was stupid too but he's honestly worried.

"N-no," Arthur said, composing himself, "no, don't worry. Just... Let's just go to lunch." He felt better now that they weren't crowding him anymore, and patted Alfred's arm lightly.  "Please, Alfred."

"I will try to watch what I'm doing," Braginsky promised sullenly, watching the two of them. It was impossible to tell if he was truly sorry or not. "And to... Not force." He rotated his wrist and smiled at Alfred. "You are very strong," he commented. 

Arthur glared at the Russian but he didn't have the energy to make it as scary as his usual glares. He just wanted to go. "Come on," he said to Alfred, not bothering with pretend pet names. "I don't want to stay here any longer."

Alfred just nods to Arthur but puts on a tiny smile at the pat on his arm. "Alright.. We'll go." He says, trying to gather the two of them up, along with their bags and things from class, that seemed so long ago.

Alfred give a nod in Ivan's direction as well to show that he heard the man. He would normally give some kind of comment, maybe even feel proud for being called strong but he could tell by Arthur's tone that they both needed to leave the scene now. "Yeah..cya around." He mutters before ushering him and his partner to leave.

He would take Arthur's hand but he was sure that it was sore and shouldn't be messed with for awhile. He wasn't sure what else he could do, so he settles for a light hand on his shoulder, just enough to show he was there as he walked them out.

Alfred's hand on his shoulder should have felt restricting and controlling, but instead it felt comforting. Arthur felt as though he'd be safe as long as Alfred was standing there. Huffing lightly and staring at the ground, Arthur pressed a little closer to Alfred's side so that the American's arm was draping across his narrow shoulders. 

"I need a cup of tea," he muttered. "A nice, strong cup of tea." He walked with Alfred aimlessly, letting the American lead the way to wherever they were going. It didn't matter, anyway. They were both free for the rest of the afternoon. "What do you want for lunch?" he asked, fiddling with the hem of his sweater vest. His bruised wrist was tucked in close to his body and he hunched his shoulders as if to protect it from further damage. 

He was actually craving something sweet. Cake, perhaps. But that wasn't proper lunch so he closed his eyes, leaned against his partner's shoulder and allowed himself to be led by Alfred. 

Alfred felt a bit of skip return to his step as Arthur pulled closer to him. It meant to him that Arthur wasn't mad at him for whatever reason he had feared. Alfred gladly keeps a comforting hold on Arthur's shoulders.

"That place we had breakfast at had tea." He mentions as they walked on slowly. Although hadn't Arthur mentioned something about it not being to his liking? He couldn't quite remember it being so early in the day.

"Or.." He vaguely remembers a place in town that he'd passed several times and never actually gone into. "There's another place I'm pretty sure has tea if you don't mind walking a bit." He speaks softly. He feels like he should make things up to Arthur somehow. He had gotten hurt and Alfred couldn't help but feel at least partially responsible.

Arthur curled his lip in distaste when Alfred mentioned that horrible almost-tea from that morning. "That wasn't tea," he grumbled. "Don't know what the bloody hell that was, but it wasn't tea." He half-listened as Alfred suggested another place and nodded. "I don't mind. Just get me a cup of tea."

He didn't pay attention to where they were walking, instead trusting Alfred to keep him from getting lost or being hit by a car. He could tell that they'd left the campus but wasn't bothered by it. He could trust Alfred. 

"I'm okay," he said when he realised that Alfred was treating him extra gently. "Don't treat me like a woman. Something like that isn't going to knock me back." as if to prove his point, Arthur straightened up a bit and scowled.  Soon enough they stopped walking, and Arthur took the chance to glance around. Where had Alfred taken him?

Alfred chuckles. He had figured that Arthur would say something like that, which is why he wasn't going to bother stopping by that place at the moment.

Walking off campus might do them a bit of good as well he figured. Being neither at the station or at campus would give them a chance to be themselves, without work and case involved for a few moments.

"I know." Alfred says as they stop. He was well aware that Arthur wasn't a woman, it was one of the few things he was very very aware of. "I just wish I could have stopped you from getting hurt." Alfred pauses before getting back to the topic at hand. "Anyways, we're here!" He turns Arthur towards a small shop, with brightly lite windows full of very sophisticated things like doilies, tea cups and paintings.

Alfred eyes the place warily and waits for Arthur's reaction. "I've never been here, but I've heard they have good tea and well it was the first place I thought of when you asked for some..."

"I'm fine," Arthur repeated. Quietly, he added, "and what's more... You came for me. You really did." It was a strange, though not unpleasant, feeling to know that here was someone whom he could rely on. 

Arthur turned to peer into the shop through the windows. Well, then. If he hadn't already been gay (or at least bisexual), this shop certainly would've done the trick. It was flowery and lacy, the kind of place that women would go to after a break-up to cry to other women and feel feminine. Or at least, Arthur though it was that kind of place. He wasn't a woman and he didn't go and cry publicly after a break-up. He hadn't even had a break-up in ages. One-night-stands didn't count as dating, and you had to be dating to break up. 

On the other hand, the delicious smell of tea coming from the place almost made his mouth water. "It's certainly very quaint," he commented. "Let's take a look, shall we?" 

The door opened with a tinkle and the other customers, all women, stared at them. Arthur ignored them and gestured to a table, seating himself and waiting for his partner to sit. He perused the menu primly, watching Alfred out of the corner of his eye. 

"Of course, I did. Why wouldn't I?" Alfred replies as he looks over the shop again. It looked a lot more girly than he had remembered. It didn't bother him really since he was doing this for Arthur and besides, if his masculinity was threatened by a place like this then he really was no man at all, that would have been pathetic. "Alright."

No, what bothered him were the people staring as they walked in. He liked attention he really did, but lately they seemed to be getting it for all the wrong reasons.

He slips into a seat across from Arthur and busies himself by burying his face in the menu. He was hungry after all. What kind of food did places like this serve anyways? All he saw on the menu was little pies and cakes and..scones? What was that, the picture kinda made it look like a biscuit. Odd, he thought but he just shrugged his shoulders. Food was food.

"'Miss Greyrose's Authentic British Savouries, Teas,  Desserts and Confections'," Arthur read aloud from the top of the menu. "Authentic, hmm? I'll be the judge of that." He visibly brightened as he continued reading through the menu and turned to the teas. "I'll have a pot of Darjeeling. How about you? We can order their 'afternoon tea', even though it's not quite the right time of day for it. It includes scones, sandwiches and a selection of cakes-- or perhaps you'd prefer a Cornish pasty?" 

The shop made him feel somewhat nostalgic. He hadn't been able to find a good tea shop in the local area, so he missed the warm, bustling atmosphere and the sense of almost-home he got from them. How he'd missed this one he had no idea, but if their tea was as good as it smelt, he'd be coming back for sure. 

He continued pointing out food to Alfred, ignoring the glances sent their way. At least the staff were remaining as professional as possible. Eventually one of the girls made her way over and produced a notepad and pen. "So, what'll you be having today, sirs?" she asked, sounding strangely out of place with her broad American accent. Arthur glanced at his partner, gesturing for him to order. 

Alfred hides a grin behind his hand at the name of the place along with Arthur's comment. He still can't make much sense of the menu but he is trying to pick something that looks good.

He looks up as Arthur speaks and makes a face, leaning on his elbows on the table. "I..have no idea what half of you just said is but alright. I'll go for it." He was up for trying new things. It also had the added plus of improving Arthur's mood it seemed. Which had been what he was hoping for.

When the waiter comes Alfred feels rather silly. He hesitantly looks up and tries not to stutter as he says, "Um could we have that Afternoon Tea thing." He doesn't realized until after he's said it that this means he will probably be drinking tea too then. He isn't sure how he feels about that. He'd never really tried the stuff.

He glances over to Arthur for him to order whatever else he wants.

"Yes, the Afternoon Tea to share, a pot of Darjeeling and..." Arthur paused to consider the tea list, trying to pick something out for Alfred. "A pot of Blue Mountain. Oh, and also a traditional Cornish pasty." Alfred would probably need more than the dainty finger-foods to fill him up, Arthur knew. The waitress nodded with an odd smile and rushed to the kitchens with their order. 

"You'll like the pasty," he commented absently as he began admiring the doilies on the table. "They're hot and very filling." The embroidered tablecloth caught his attention next and he fingered the rose pattern with a tiny smile. "And the tea I ordered for you isn't too strong; it's vanilla scented and actually quite sweet." Actually, he hoped that Alfred would like the tea. It would be nice to have someone to share outings to this tea house with, and even nicer if that someone was Alfred. Realistically though, he knew that Alfred would probably reject the tea in much the same manner as Arthur himself had rejected the coffee earlier that morning. 

Their food came out soon enough. Arthur waited for their tea to seep, and then poured their cups using the strainers provided. "There's sugar and cream if you'd like some," he said, inhaling the delicious scent wafting from his cup. Then he took a sip of it and practically moaned in pleasure. 

It was very apparent that Arthur knew his stuff when it came to places like this. Alfred let him order what he thought would be nice and waited rather anxiously for their order to arrive.

Alfred looked into the cup he was handed and sniffed it experimentally. It certainly did smell sweet. He carefully raises the cup to his lips and takes a sip. He makes a face as he swallows, licking his lips at the funny taste. "It could stand some sugar." He says reaching for what he expects to be packets and finds little cubes instead. It was kinda cute, he supposed.

He drops several of the cubes into his cup before attempting to drink the stuff again. It still isn't to his liking but he supposes it's not..terrible.

He glances over at Arthur, who is clearly enjoying his tea though. It's enough to make it worth it. He then looks at the pastry in front of him and decided to poke at that next. He takes his fork and stabs into it , bringing a bite to his mouth. His reaction is much more positive this time and he quickly goes for another bite.

"Wow, Arthur! This is really good!" He says trying not to talk with his mouth full in such a nice establishment.

Arthur’s smile widened as he watched Alfred tuck into his pasty eagerly. He nodded in agreement with the other’s words and took another sip of his tea before reaching for a sandwich off one of the cake-stand tiers. Normally he added a few sugars and a dash of milk to his tea, but he hadn’t had a proper cup of tea in days so he decided to drink it without. Arthur took a bite of his sandwich, silently approving of the tuna-cucumber-watercress combination. He ate slowly and leisurely, savouring the taste off food from his far-off home country.

“It almost makes me wish I was back there,” he confided quietly, indulging in one of the tiny cakes. He was silent for a moment, and changed the subject, “when you’ve finished that pasty, try one of these scones.” He took one and demonstrated, placing it on his plate and scooping a decent amount of jam and clotted cream from the dish, placing them next to his scone. He broke a piece of the scone off and spread the toppings over it.

“Have you any siblings?” he asked after eating the bite. Arthur realised that they really didn’t know much about each other at all. While he didn’t need Alfred to tell him all of his deepest, darkest secrets, he at least wanted to know a bit more about the man. He could offer some information about himself in return, too. “Unfortunately, I have plenty.”

Alfred swallows another bite of his pastry, looking over at Arthur as he speaks. He pauses but decided to go for it, he had been wondering about it for some time anyways. "Why did you decide to come all the way over here anyways?" He asks curiously.

Alfred tilts his head at the example Arthur makes with his scone. "Seems like an awful lot of work for just a tiny bite." He reaches over to pick his own scone up and just takes a bite from it. He chews slowly as if he can't decide whether he wants to spit it out or take another bite. It was an odd taste. He tries to put a name to it when he is asked another question interrupting his thoughts.

"Hmm, no. Oh wait, yes I do! I have a brother." He answers cheerfully. Hearing Arthur's comment though confuses him. "Do you..have issues with your family?" He asks hoping it doesn't sound like he's trying to be invasive. That was hardly the case, he just wanted to know more about Arthur. All he really knew was from the stories people at the station told about all the cases he had been in.

“My family…” he rooted around for something to say that wouldn’t be too personal, but would show a willingness to talk. “Well… I’m the second youngest of five boys, and… I suppose I wanted to be me, not ‘the second youngest of the Kirkland lads’. Perhaps you didn’t experience it, since you’ve only got one brother, but children can be awfully tactical, forming alliances with each other and whatnot. But in order to do that, someone has to be the enemy.”

His parents had tried to put a stop to the bullying, but the others refused to include him in their games. Oh, his childhood had been happy enough, with kind parents and plenty of books, as well as the faeries inhabiting the garden. But there had always been a thought lingering in the back of his mind, questions that he always asked himself: Why? Why hadn’t he been good enough to play with the others? What had he done wrong, to be isolated from them? Why did they torment him so?

He’d tried to be kind to Peter, his younger brother. There was quite a large age gap between them, but he’d always tried to spoil the boy and keep him happy. But eventually, Peter, too, had turned on him, and then his father had objected to his desire to join the police force. And Arthur had desperately needed to just get away. Eventually Scott, his eldest brother, had been offered a job at the university here, but Arthur knew that by now, their relationship was probably irreparable.

“I suppose we were just never close,” he said, shrugging. “But come, tell me about this brother of yours.”

Alfred listened, a frown forming on his face. "So they were mean to you?" He confirms, thinking that must be awfully mean of his siblings. That or Arthur must have been lonely as a child.

"I can't say..that I could relate to that." He speaks up. "Me and my brother were rather close when we were little." It was true, from the time that he could remember they had always stuck by each others side. It wasn't until they were older that they started to grow a bit distant.

"He's a year younger then me but is practically my twin. He's been mistaken for me plenty of times. Not that he's very happy about that. He lives up in Canada right now, I never see him much, so it's easy to forget about him sometimes." He says looking down at his plate and picking at the remains of his pastry and scone.

“They were mean,” Arthur agreed, “but never overly cruel.” They’d usually stuck to name-calling and ordering him about, but he’d stumbled in from the garden, muddied and bruised and clutching at a ripped book, more than once. But that was normal, wasn’t it? Boys liked to roughhouse with each other. Or in his case, gang up on him and refuse to leave until he broke down in tears. “My mother and father didn’t approve of their actions, but… well, they couldn’t exactly be around to defend me all day, could they?” His mother had always made sure to wipe away the remnants of his tears and reason quietly with him when he’d angrily declared that he didn’t need them and that he’d be perfectly happy living in his bedroom with only the faeries and Flying Mint Bunny for company, though. She’d passed away a mere two years after he’d left the country, and he’d never forgiven himself for not spending those last years with her instead of selfishly wanting to get away.

Arthur nodded as Alfred told him about his brother up in Canada, and found himself wondering how his own brothers were doing. “Don’t you call him?” he asked, fiddling with the handle on his teacup. He didn’t want to pry too much. Alfred seemed uncomfortable talking about his younger brother, so Arthur forced a half-smile and tried to change the subject. “So I heard you were a security guard at one of the shopping centres here; what was that like?”

Alfred nods in understanding, or at least he thinks he understands. Normally Alfred might have told him that he should have stood up for himself but he knew that probably wasn't the case here. He might have understood a little more now why Arthur was the way he is though.

"I call him on holidays and stuff." Alfred assures his partner. "If I'm lucky, I even get to see him during Christmas." Now that he thought about it, he did kinda miss his brother. They had nearly nothing in common but they did manage to get another with each other quite well when they saw each other.

"It was about as exciting as doing paperwork at the station is." He answers with a laugh before shaking his head. "Well, okay, it was a little better than that. I mainly just walked around and threw dumb kids out when I had to. Nothing more serious than people arguing mostly." Except of course that one incident that had gotten him promoted into the police force. That had been a bit more but he still finds it a bit unbelievable for his point of view. Alfred reasons that if he is dreaming he might as well not talk about it and risk waking up from such a dream.

It was amazing how filling little cakes and sandwiches could be. Arthur had worked his way through perhaps two-fifths of the sandwiches while they had been talking and was now steadily working his way through the scones. It was the best afternoon tea he'd had since he'd left the United Kingdom, even better than his own cooking. 

Arthur gave a crooked half-smile at the mention of paperwork. He knew all about the terrible boredom associated with paperwork. But finally he was out and doing his job again... Even if they were currently floundering for clues. "How did you go from a security guard to an officer, though?" he asked, pouring both of them new cups of tea. "Or was it just a logical progression?"

Alfred had finished his two things, while his cup of tea sat mostly untouched next to his plate. His appetite was leaving him. As shocking as it was he chalked it up to exhaustion and had the delightful idea of maybe having a nap when they got back to the dorm.

The new cup of tea, joined with the first and Alfred doubted that he would touch it. He lifts a hand to rub at the back of his neck, giving a stiff chuckle. "Ah, well..I told you I always wanted to be an officer right? Well, it wasn't as simple as wanting to and they'd let me. So I ended up as a security guard." He pauses in telling his story to lean back in his chair and stretch a bit.

"They certainly seemed to change their minds though when I caught this mob guy stealing from a shoe store that they had been looking for apparently. It was just a normal shop lifter I thought but they got all excited over it and offered me a job, training, everything." Alfred couldn't believe he was telling Arthur this. He would probably think he was some cheap excuses for a cop now. Arthur was the big star after all right?

Arthur listened to Alfred's story and smiled. Here was an honest man, who wasn't afraid to tell his story without any embellishments. "Well, you did apprehend him," he commented. "Don't belittle your achievements. I'm sure you wholly deserved your promotion." He tried to hide his flushed cheeks by staring down at his teacup. He'd never been good at praising people, but Alfred seemed to need it. 

"It's a more interesting story than mine, at any rate," Arthur continued. "I merely joined the Police Academy  as soon as I could and worked my way up from there."