TimeTaveling!England x Reader: Arthur and ________

    "But time travel isn't possible," you argued, giving your friend a look.  Alfred F. Jones was one of your best friends, but sometimes he could be a little crazy.  This was one of those times.
    "Pfft, time travel is totes possible!"  His bright blue eyes seemed to be wider than ever, and you wondered if maybe you should call one of your other besties over to talk some sense into him.  Francis, maybe?  Ivan could definitely scare some sense into him.  You shifted your weight, folding your arms and tipping your head to one side as you analyzed the situation.  Alfred's usually messy hair was really out of control now.  His glasses were crooked, the collar of his shirt was all messed up, and he had only one sleeve rolled up.  He looked like he hadn't slept for a few days.
    "Alfred, you need to relax.  How about you take a seat, and I'll get you some tea or something."
    "Nah, I'm good," he dismissed your suggestion with a careless wave of his hand.  "That Arthur dude already offered to make some tea, but I told him I preferred soda.  You know me, _______."
    There he goes again talking about this imaginary "Arthur" character.  Rewind this conversation to fifteen minutes earlier, and you would hear Alfred going on about some British guy from almost two hundred years ago showed up.  You wondered if he had been watching too much Doctor Who, but then you remembered that he was never really into that show.
    "Look, Alfred, I really think you need to chill out.  There's no such thing as time travel, and there's no such thing as Arthur Kirkland."
    "Did someone call?"  A blonde-haired Brit poked his head around the corner.  "Alfred, you did not inform me that a lady would be present."  He rounded the corner and approached you, wearing what looked like a suit from the 1800s.  He bowed in greeting.  "Crikey!  Am I seeing things, or is this woman wearing trousers?"  He stared at you for a moment before he shook he head.  "Indeed, forgive me for my poor manners, madam.  The name is Arthur Kirkland."
    "....Hello," you responded, confused.  He looked taken aback by your greeting before he chuckled.
    "I apologize," he said.  "Mr. Jones here already informed me that greetings and etiquette are different here.  I suppose I forgot already."  He chuckled again.  "Where I come from, ladies curtsy in greeting."
    "Um, sorry?"  You glanced curiously at Alfred before looking back at Arthur.  This had to be some joke.
    "May I ask for your name, madam?"    
    "My name is ________," you responded.  "It's nice to meet you."
    "It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Ms. _______.  Alfred informed me that you would be joining us, but he failed to mention your loveliness."   
    "Thank you," you said slowly.  Though you were flattered, you were also very confused.  This had to be a joke, right?  Time travel isn't possible, right?  You looked at Alfred, who had been surprisingly quiet.  He was already gazing back at you with a goofy "I told you so" grin on his face as he observed your reaction.
    "What is going on?"  You asked him.
    "I already told you, ________.  One minute, I was just chilling here trying to fix my TV.  The next minute, Arthur showed up and he looked like he had no idea where he was.  I've been spending the last few days trying to figure out who he is and where he came from.  After he told me a few things about himself, I did some research, and his story checks out.  He is a gentleman from the 1800s, believe it or not!  Check it out!" 
    He motioned for you to follow him over to his messy desk to take a look on his laptop.  Your eyebrows went up in disbelief when you saw the black-and-white photo of Arthur on the screen.
    "Explain that!" Alfred challenged.
    "Photoshop?"
    "Come on, _______!  Seriously?"  He folded his arms and pouted. 
    "Alright, fine.  I believe you," you admitted.  Alfred could be a little crazy, but you knew he wouldn't try to prank you this hard.  "The question is; how do we send him back?"
    "Send him back?  What?"  Alfred shook his head.  "Tell me something.  How many people do you know gets to hang out with a dude from the 19th century?"
    You sighed in defeat.  "No one."
    "Right, exactly!"  Alfred slung an arm over your shoulder.  "Trust me, _______.  This is going to be awesome!"
    "Hm," Arthur said, approaching the two of you from across the room.  "I understand if you and the lady are courting, but maybe you shouldn't be in such close proximity with her while there is another gentleman in the room."     
    "Oh, hi Arthur!"  Alfred took his arm off your shoulder, and you made a face.
    "No.  There is no way I'm courting Alfred," You told him.  "We've been best friends since preschool.  He's like a brother to me."  
    "Yeah, dude," your friend agreed.  "That would be weird."
    "Indeed," Arthur nodded in understanding.  Then, he raised his bushy eyebrows.  "In that case...gentlemen and ladies are permitted to be so close to each other even when they're not courting?"  He shook his head.  "The future will take some getting used to...The etiquette and manners here are so different."
    "So, you're seriously from 1800's England?  Wow, I can't say that I've ever met anyone that's almost two-hundred years old before." You chuckled.  "Though you look like you're in your twenties.  Not bad looking, actually.  I mean- oh my gosh...I didn't mean it like that.  I'm not saying that you're cute or anything.  Not that you're not cute!  I mean...I'm making this awkward, aren't I?" 
    Arthur looked at you for a moment before he glanced at your friend.  "She's quite the church-bell isn't she?" he said in a low voice to Alfred, to which Alfred smugly nodded in agreement.  You had no idea what that meant, so you made a mental note to go and search 1800's slang on the Internet when you got the chance. 
    "Anyways!" Alfred began, clasping his hands together.  "I haven't slept or showered for four days, so ________ could you keep an eye on Artie here while I go take care of business?"
    Arthur's eyebrows furrowed.  "My name is Arthur, good sir.  I don't go by the name of Artie."
    "You do now!  Be back in a few!"  Alfred disappeared around the corner, leaving you to talk to Arthur.  There was an awkward silence as Arthur glanced around the room.  Finally, you spoke.
    "So...how do you like the future?"
    "It's most definitely not what I expected.  I find it to be very backwards and disorienting.  The etiquette and way of life here is frightening."  Arthur paused.  "How does a lady like yourself survive?"
    "...The same way women in your time survive.  I have to say that I don't think I'd be able to live in your time, Arthur.  Women had so many restrictions back then.  Plus, there were so many social rules about who you can and can't talk to."
    "It's only to protect ladies and make sure that they could be the best that they could be."  He chuckled.  "How would any of them find husbands otherwise?"
    You gave him a look.  "Wow.  Because finding a husband is the most important thing on the planet!" you responded sarcastically.
    "Is it just me, or am I detecting sarcasm in your tone, Ms. __________?"
    "I dunno'...are you?"
    "My goodness!  Are all women in this time like you?"  His tone grew agitated.
    "Are all men in your time like you?"  You folded your arms.  Then, a grin slowly spread across your face.  "Relax, Arthur.  I was just joking.  While I don't appreciate your view of females, and you are seriously sassy, I can't say I dislike you.  You're kind of funny."
    "I suppose I should thank you," he sighed.  "I find your etiquette, or lack thereof, to be quite disturbing.  You speak out of turn and don't treat gentlemen like me with respect.  However, it does not chance the fact that you are a beautiful lady, and I shall treat you as such."
    "Thanks."  You held out a hand.  "Truce?"
    "Indeed."  He shook it.  "Say, you wouldn't happen to know where I can get a cup of tea, would you?"
    "Tea?  Psh, yeah sure.  No prob."
    -----------------------------------------------------
    Because you and Alfred weren't able to find a way to send Arthur back, both of you took on the responsibility of showing him around.  It was a slow and steady process, but fun.  Every time he would see a new kind of technology or device, Arthur would gasp suddenly and spend lots of time playing with it and trying to learn about it.  He once spent many hours trying to figure out Alfred's coffee-maker.  The more he saw of this time, the more be adjusted.  He became more informed about women and their achievements, and he no longer thought of them the way he did when he first arrived.
    His initial irritation with you grew into a kind of affectionate bantering over time.  He was so captivated by how intelligent and lively you were, very different from the women that he used to try to court in his time.  They were always so quiet and, well, boring.  You were able to talk to him about all sorts of things, becoming a friend to him as well as a crush.
    You also came to like him.  Sure, he was originally quite a jerk when he first arrived.  He used to make so many comments about your manners and what not which offended you from time to time.  However, things began to change as he adjusted to your time.  There were still some habits he refused to part with, such as opening doors for you or pulling out a chair.  You secretly loved that sort of thing.  Alfred teased both of you for a long time before Arthur finally admitted his feelings for you, to which of course you reciprocated. 
    There was just one thing that hung over your heads long after you both admitted your feelings.
    He was from the past, and you were from the present.  Both of you belonged in your own times.  As you snuggled up next to Arthur on the couch while you, him, and Alfred watched a movie one evening, Arthur couldn't help but think these things over.  He glanced down at you, your (e/c) eyes shining from the television screen.  When the time came for him to choose, would he go back?  He knew he couldn't ask you to go with him.  There is no doubt that you wouldn't be happy with the lifestyle of ladies back then.  He still didn't know how he got here in the first place.  Alfred had a theory that while he was messing with the TV, something happened.  You thought that was pretty ridiculous because TVs just don't do stuff like that.  Arthur had no idea either, and he decided he didn't care.  When the time came, he would choose.
    He planted a soft kiss on your forehead, making you glance up at him.
    "What was that for?"
    He smiled back at you, deciding to repeat a phrase that you usually used as an explanation for your actions, "Just because."
    "Aw, you're so adorbs," you giggled.
    "Yo, can you guys keep it down?"  Alfred muttered.  "Some of us are actually paying attention to the movie, you know."  You grabbed one of the throw pillows and smacked him in the face with it, making Arthur laugh.
    "Did I mention that you're 'adorbs' too?"  Arthur told you.
    "You could do with saying it more often," you teased.  The both of you cuddled and went quiet, enjoying the movie and each other's company.  But then Alfred threw a pillow back at your face.
    "That wasn't very gentlemanly of you, Alfred," Arthur said, sitting up properly and rolling up his sleeves and grabbing a pillow.  "Fear not, my lady ________.  I will fight for you!  On the other hand..." He paused, taking your hand.  "How about you join me?"  You jumped up.
    "PILLOW FIGHT!"