FOF (Various!HetaliaxReader-VictorianAU P4.)

After going back to Ludwig and speaking with him for a while, [Name] decided it was time for her to go. As much as she wanted to stay and spend time with the tall blond, she figured that her father was worried about her, and she shouldn’t make him get any more gray hairs.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to escort you back,” Ludwig put her shawl around her shoulders.

[Name] smiled, “I’ll be fine, I know the way. Besides you have a shop to take care of. I’ll come back and visit sometime, just to check on Gilbert and…perhaps see you again.” She curtsied and headed down the stairs. She spotted someone standing right in front of the clock shop door.

“Ludwig,” she called, “Um, I think you have a customer. Shall I get the door for him?”

Ludwig shuffled around on the upper floor, “Ja,” he called back, “Please do, tell him I’ll be right down.”

[Name] walked up to the door and fumbled with the locks. There were at least seven! Poor Ludwig was probably worried about his brother trying to run away while drunk. It took a minute, but she was finally able to get it open for the man.

“I’m terribly sorry sir,” she looked up with an apologetic smile, “Mister Beilshmidt is currently upstairs but he’ll be down in a moment.”

The man stepped inside and took off his hat. “Well, I didn’t expect a young lady to work in a clock shop. Tell me, what do I call a little mouse like you?”

His accent made it easy to identify him as an American. One, his vowels were all off and two, he had a slight western, outlandish way of speaking. It actually sounded quite nice. And those bright blue eyes, staring into hers with a playful glimmer.

[Name] snapped out of her little daydream, her face flushing, “O-Oh, no, I don’t work here, I…I was just helping…” she bit her lip, “Anyway, I’m [Name], and what do I call you, stranger?”

The man smirked, “Why, haven’t you heard of me darlin’? I’m the hero of the railroad; I can lay tracks like it’s no man’s business,” he bowed, “The name’s Alfred Jones, American, Patriot, and Pioneer. The pleasure is mine.”

He took her hand and kissed the back of it. [Name] could tell from the roughness of his palm that it was obviously the hardworking hand of a middleclass man. But an American as well; not many people who left the Motherland returned, willingly that is. She found his behavior rather amusing; not so many men flirted this openly.

[Name] pulled her hand away slowly and was about to speak again when Ludwig emerged from the back room.

“I’m sorry for zhe vait sir,” he walked up to Alfred and shook his hand firmly, “Vhat can I do for you today?”

Alfred laughed, a loud booming sound that came straight from the gut, “Don’t worry ‘bout it fella’. I just needed to find a good repairman to fix this watch of mine.” He carefully pulled out a pocket watch from his inner coat pocket and placed it in Ludwig’s outstretched palm, “It’s just not ticking the way it used to.”

Ludwig handled the watch with utmost care as he spoke, “You can come back sometime tomorrow, I’ll have it fixed by then.” He turned back to [Name] and set the watch in a drawer of his desk. “Are you sure you do not vant me to valk vith you?”

[Name] nodded and sandwiched his hand between hers, “It’s fine. I’ll be able to find my way, go fix that watch; you have a customer counting on you.”

Alfred poked his head in between them and grinned, “I couldn’t help but overhear that this little lady needs an escort home. Mind if I fill that role for you?”

[Name] was about to protest, but Ludwig nodded, “Please, make sure she gets there safely. Goodbye [Name], I vill hopefully see you sometime soon.”

[Name] sighed, “Goodbye, Ludwig, maybe you could fix our clock if it breaks.” She smiled and placed her hand on Alfred’s arm, leaving the clock shop.

“So,” Alfred smiled down at her, “What’s life like here for you? Anything interestin’ go on?”

[Name] glanced up at the American and couldn’t help but smile back; his grin was contagious. “Well, it’s a beautiful area, we have a wonderful park, and everyone here is very polite”

Alfred chuckled, “That’s not interesting. Come on, tell me about yourself. What do you like to do? Do you bake? How old are you? Are you courting somebody at the moment?” He winked.

[Name] tried to answer all his questions, but ended up faltering, “I-I,” she took a deep breath and decided to humor him, “I enjoy reading and tending my garden. Yes, I do bake. I’m nineteen, and no. I am not presently courting anyone. How about yourself, is there a Mrs. Jones? Do you have a lucky lady waiting for you back home?”

Alfred’s face turned a slight shade of pink, “N-No,” he quickly recovered, “Not unless you want there to be.”

“How absurd,” [Name] laughed, “We only just met, Mister Jones.”

“Somehow, I feel as if this was meant to be, my lovely Mrs. Jones,” he smirked.

[Name] shook her head, “Well, you haven’t proposed yet, and I don’t think I’d like to marry a man like you,” she joked.

Alfred pretended to be hurt, “Why not darlin’?”

“Well,” [Name] tapped her chin, “For one, you leave your dirty socks on the floor, and never pick them up. Two, you’re loud, you might wake up the neighbors, and three…I don’t know what three is, but there’s something.” She was trying her hardest not to laugh as she spoke, but she failed at containing a few chuckles.

Alfred didn’t even attempt to hide it; his loud laugh made [Name]’s heart skip a beat. She looked up at him and took note of the way his lifted his head in the air and how his strong jawline was accentuated by it.  

“You know what darlin’,” he put his arm around her shoulder, “You’re a real fine character.”

[Name] rested her hand on top of his for a moment. “Why thank you.”

They walked in silence for a while longer, and Alfred let his arm drop; they had gotten to the more populated part of town, and people might’ve gotten the wrong idea about them.

“So, buttercup where do you live,” Alfred inquired, guiding her through the mass of people heading this way and that.

[Name] gestured to a row of houses down the lane. “It’s right over there. Would you stay for tea, I’m sure my father will be very grateful that you brought me home safely.”

Alfred thought for a moment. “Well, I prefer some strong coffee, but…I s’pose I could take a cup. I have to be off soon, however, I’m only here on professional railroad business.”

“Oh,” [Name]’s face fell, “So, you won’t be here long?” She was starting to like the American, with his easygoing nature and cheerful disposition. She had never really had any friends outside of Elisabeth and it was nice to have met someone else that she could joke around with. Especially someone like Alfred; he wasn’t serious about things and his mannerisms seemed almost childish. Maybe all Americans were like that. [Name] didn’t know, but she did enjoy his company.

When they reached the little street that [Name] lived on, Alfred walked her to the door and knocked loudly. “Hey, what were you doing in the clock shop anyway? Before it opened too…”

[Name] bit her lip and sighed. “I helped the owner’s brother home because he was drunk, and I sort of fell asleep there since it had gotten dark and the streets aren’t safe after nine.”

Alfred nodded slowly. “Well darlin’, if you ever need a gentleman to take you places, just ask me, I’d be glad to take you anywhere; maybe back to America if I can.”

[Name] was about to respond, when the front door swung open. Felicia stood there, wiping her hand on her apron.

“Miss! Oh Miss, everyone’s been so worried! Come inside, where were you? Your father had to go to work, but Mister Kirkland waited for you to return.” She kept her voice low, but the anxiousness in her eyes was obvious.

“Calm down Felicia,” [Name] put her hand on the maid’s shoulder, “I’m alright, I was just with Elisabeth. This is Mister Jones, he escorted me home.” She decided to leave the part about the clock shop out of the conversation. “Where is Mister Kirkland?”

Felicia curtsied to Alfred before taking his hat and coat, “He’s upstairs in the guest room sleeping. He insisted on waiting for you. Oh you should’ve been here, he was frantic with worry. Kept going on about how it was his fault if anything happened to you. Would you like me to wake him?”

[Name] shook her head, “No Felicia, could you show Mister Jones into the parlor and make up some tea for three? I’ll go up and see Mister Kirkland.”

Alfred glanced at [Name] with a raised eyebrow, “You said you weren’t courting anyone,” he smirked a little.