Human!America and Demon!England - human names used

They both might be a bit OOC, but hopefully not too much to deter you from reading it ^-^

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"I found one," he said, panting. He sounded triumphant. He must have run all the way there.

Arthur saw no need to look up. The room was so weighed down with shadows that it would be a pain to even try. It was only because of the dull yellow light that trickled in through the crack in the blackout curtains that he could even read the tabloid that the last customer, a hideous skirt-wearing boy with a penchant for littering his sentences with the word 'like', had left lying around.

"Really?" His tone was flat. There wasn't a reason to feign interest. Whoever it was, knowing Jones, it would probably be someone irritating and unneeded. He kept his eyes glued to a glossy article depicting some tragedy about hair.

Jones was silent, probably studying him with those unnaturally innocent eyes.

"She's real." It sounded more like he was desperately trying to convince himself than Arthur.

Lately, the people Alfred had brought had all wound up being the same: make me rich, make them love me, make me live forever. All the originality that the job once held had vanished over time and now he had grown so bored of it that he had stooped to letting a stubborn full-grown child entertain him.

He usually disliked people - they always wanted to understand him - but Alfred was different. When he first found what Arthur actually did down in the dank murky streets on the edge of the slums, he tried to convince Arthur that all he had to do was follow the way of God and his immortal soul would be saved. The poor boy didn't even know the truth, and Arthur found the earnest child far too interesting to rid him of his naivety.

The religious-types had always amused him; they clung desperately to the ridiculous belief that there was a being out there who loved and protected each one of them individually. Atheists just annoyed him; they gave up at the first hurdle and wouldn't even commit themselves to the idea that The Creator was selfish enough to force them to live on after their time was up. But he didn't hate them; hate required caring, caring required effort, and it was a waste of energy to bother thinking too much about such things. No matter what their beliefs, if he didn't interact with them, he couldn't do his job, and that was the one thing he cared about.

"I promise you, she's real." Arthur looked at him over the top of the tabloid, his eyes listless. Alfred stared at him, brimming with confidence. But there was something else, a tone of doubt peeking through his burning blue eyes; the boy was beginning to break. It wouldn't be long now before he accepted the truth.

"Fine," Arthur said, flipping a page in bored interest, knowing that whatever came next would be as equally enthralling as the previous article.

It was pitiful the way Jones' face lit up in hope. His tense stance vanished as he began to beam. "Really?" It was almost eerie how pure he was, despite living at least twenty years on the decaying planet known as Earth.

"Sure," He said, his eyes drawn to a disturbing piece on pregnancy scares.

Crushing Jones' hopes had begun to give him a sense of satisfaction; it brought the fun back into the job. He really couldn't help but smile whenever he saw Jones' face etched with despair, those big blue eyes crying as he failed again to bring Arthur one of the humans he always preached about.

And all because Alfred had one thing that Arthur could only acquire by pushing the boy to a point of complete hopelessness, extinguishing his faith in humanity until he became a shell of what he once was. As soon as Alfred had gone past the point of no return, Arthur could easily snatch his broken soul and claim the prize he had been working so hard towards.

xXx

There were only three types of people that entered through his door: the lonely, the greedy or the desperate. It was wonderfully hard to tell which category the blubbering woman before him fell into.

The customer was rich, he could tell that much from the limo that dwarfed his store-front looking ridiculously out of place among the rag-tag make-shift houses of the locals. Even when the woman was crying out her tale she still held a certain air about her that let him know that she might actually take some work to break down.

Her mourning clothes were soft but elegant, clinging to her well-aged form in an almost pleasing manner. The dark expensive suit enhanced her pallid skin, her sunken cheeks giving way to thin lips partially hidden by the handkerchief she clenched in a tight trembling hand.

Had the woman's eyes not been bloodshot, her nose bulbous from repeated blows and had she not persisted in making horrible gasping noises as she cried, she might have been attractive.

How Alfred knew such a woman was lost on Arthur. He assumed she was one of the larger 'contributors' to the little foundation Jones belonged to, maybe using her money to buy her way into his store.

Arthur sat, as he always did when receiving guests of her kind, in one of two simple armchairs that had come with the store. He was sure that the previous owner had just picked them up from one of the many dumps around the city, as they had no value whatsoever when it came to comfort. His teacher claimed that such things helped sooth the customer, making Arthur appear to be someone they could trust, but he didn't see how that was possible. With the single bare bulb hanging down from the ceiling, it always felt as if he was interrogating them, and the constant gloom was even more depressing than the thick darkness he preferred.

The customer would always sit in the most comfortable chair he had been bothered to find. A low coffee table separated them; both their cups going cold. None of them had taken a drink since he had asked her to make her case.

Her now pathetic excuse for a handkerchief had become so sodden that its only use seemed to be to smudge lipstick across her face as she tried to stifle her tears, making it nearly impossible for a normal human to hear her as she continued on with her dull tale. Leaving out the patronising smile, Arthur gently pushed the box of tissues across the coffee table. His teacher had warned him about being kind to this type of customer when they were bearing themselves to him, but he just couldn't muster up the energy to care for the woman's story when he had heard it a thousand times. And not only that, she hadn't even finished.

She paused, staring at him with a kind of hope that made his insides curl. If she was stupid enough to believe he would help her, then she deserved to pay the price. She gave a shaky smile as her hand lowered, taking one of the cheap white sheets. Apart from Jones and the annoying sunlight that always followed, the tissues were the brightest thing that had ever found itself inside his home.

He had decided to amuse himself, more for Jones's sake than anyone else's, but he was quickly coming to regret that decision the moment she started sobbing. It was becoming tedious, and his interest had quickly waned. Only the thought of Jones' soul could make him sum up enough energy to endure until the woman had finished.

Really though, he didn't care about her situation in the slightest. All he was waiting for was the question, and her reaction to the answer she would receive.

Maybe she was genuinely sad, but that did not mean she could waste so many of his tissues with her pointless weeping. From her poorly told story it wasn't hard to guess what the woman wanted, but he really wished she would hurry up and ask. Even though he already knew the answer, he needed to hear the question first before he could break the news to Alfred that he had failed once again to find proof that the human race was worth something. It was only the prospect of handing over Jonas' broken soul to his Master that stopped him from snapping at her.

"So…" Arthur said, keeping out the sigh and bored tone for business sake. "What do you want?" He had grown tired of playing shop. The night was coming and he needed to reset the defences.

The woman froze, the sobbing ceasing for a few peaceful seconds. Her head raised slowly, her bloodshot eyes meeting his as she gave a hesitant mumble. "My- my husband…"

She left it hanging for so long that he felt forced to ask "What about him?"

"Please! Bring him back to life!" And there it was.

When it came to customers, it was her type that always annoyed him. The ones who wanted eternal life or endless riches were easy. A soul for a lifetime of pleasure was a fair deal that even he would take, and they usually spent their lives basking in carnal delights that poisoned their souls to perfection, making them one of the greatest prizes for someone in his business that only a broken soul could better.

Unfortunately, by law he had to reveal key aspects of the deal before the customer was allowed to accept. It was at this point that the customers asking for their loved ones back would abandon their wish. 'A trade', his teacher called it. The rules of the trade were very basic: the weight of your wish = the price. In cases such as hers, it depended entirely on the type of soul she had. But when the client asked for endless riches and the like, it was simply a matter of worth. When they had lived as long as their soul could buy, Arthur took his payment and that was that. If they weren't aware of the price of their soul, who could complain when he over-charged them?

"I see." He disliked having to deal with them. There was never any set procedure of how to act, what to say or even how to complete the process of bringing a being back to life.

But, with Jones' hope for humanity resting on the woman's shoulders, there was no way he couldn't do everything he could to force her to give up.

Arthur gave a sigh, clasping his hands before him as if what he was about to say was a great burden for him. The woman watched him attentively, frozen, her mouth hanging open in an amusing state of expectation.

"You do realise that if I do this, you yourself will have to die?"

Here it came. Now she would waver. Her eyes, like all the others who asked that of him would widen in shock and then soften into sadness as she realised she could never see her loved one again. She would make it seem like she was battling with herself, but the answer would already be decided as soon as he uttered the question.

Because humans were like that; they never made themselves clear when they stated their desires. The level of selfishness on this planet was wonderful. Without it, he would have never survived so long in the cut-throat world of soul-trading. Not once had he met a human who had willingly accepted the terms of his deal.

'Bring him back to life' was pretty clear, but as soon as he told them what would happen when the deal was done, they realised that 'Bring him back to life' actually meant 'Let us be together again'. Way back when, he had wanted to tell people who planned to come to him that they needed to understand the full weight of what they were asking; but if he did, he would never have the pleasure of meeting the countless morons who sold their souls for a pittance.

But his triumph was short-lived. Instead of the expected, instead of the conflicted eyes and twisted indecisive mouth, the woman's face softened into a tear-stained smile.

"Your life for his – those are the rules," he reinforced, concerned at the steadiness of her bloodshot eyes. She seemed to have already come to some sort of conclusion.

"I understand." He faltered, his heart stuttering in surprise. He watched the woman closely as she stared down at the balled up tissues in her hands with a disturbingly serene smile, trying to see if there were any cracks in what he could only assume to be a persona.

There wasn't a single sign of hesitation, not a tone of uncertainty in her actions. It wasn't right. It was too soon for her to be so confident. The only trace that remained of the weeping woman was her smudged make-up and reddened eyes.

"You'll die, you know?" Damn. His demeanour had slipped, his panic starting to show in his voice.

He stared at her, not believing what he was hearing. Was the woman insane? From what he could see, she knew the rules before she entered his home, but that should have lead her to at least be afraid of the answer she would receive.

"I don't mind. As long as he can continue living." He realised then that he had given her too much hope. The woman was the type of fool to grab every chance she got. He needed to put a stop to this or he would end up with a smug Alfred and a soul that could never be sold.

There was no way she should be so calm. Though law stated the customer must know the key aspects of the deal, a small loophole let him leave out the fact that every soul he purchased would be given to his Master, where its value would be measured and sold to the highest bidder for consumption.

"Your soul will never move on. You'll never receive your judgement; you'll never even be reincarnated." He gripped the arms of his chair, surprised at his anger. The woman must be stupid if she was really satisfied with his terms.

Her reaction was wrong. She wasn't supposed to be so relaxed. It wasn't possible for a human to choose to truly die for another, especially when she couldn't even guarantee her husbands' happiness.

She continued her steady smile, shaking Arthur. How could the woman be so confident? It was almost like she didn't fear true death. He couldn't accept a soul that was so willing to die for another. Selflessness was not a desired trait when it came to soul-trading.

He could tell from the tightness in his chest and the heavy pounding of his heart that he his panic was fast increasing; and the decidedly human trait of his sweating palms wasn't any better. He hated feeling so unsure just because he couldn't see the outcome of the situation. He was scared for the first time in his life, tense at the thought he could lose the one soul that he had actually made an effort to attain.

He may be a business man, but he had his pride. A long run of satisfied customers attested to that, and he wasn't about to let his Master know that he had turned down a customer for the simple reason that he disliked her. But he needed to do something that would make her change her mind, and for the first time in what could be a thousand years, Arthur was clueless. 'You have so much to live for' was a pathetic argument that his pride would not allow him to make, 'Think of your children' was a wild guess that he couldn't risk making, and nothing, not even the thought of what would come with handing over Jones' soul to his master could make him beg for her to live.

He wanted to stand up, shout that she was an idiot and force her to concede. He couldn't allow Alfred to win after trying so hard to break him down The boy needed to learn that life was cruel; a customer like this was just a challenge he had to overcome.

He was growing irritated at her unwavering smile. He couldn't stop fidgeting, repeatedly twisting his fingers and biting his lip. All she did was sit there, staring at him with her stupid expectations, not even realising what she was doing to him. Every time he met her eyes, his stomach fluttered as he tried to gain control of himself.

Unless he blatantly refused her, he just couldn't see a way of getting her to leave without giving her what she wanted. He ran a hand through his hair, glancing at the woman again, clenching his teeth as she carried on smiling. She had somehow cleaned herself up and her hope had given her a glowing sheen that made him feel foul in comparison. Even though Jones' hope was lying with the woman, and even though he had been working for years to break the boy down, the simple feeling was so disgusting that it made his skin crawl at the unnatural being which sat before him.

He was growing more uncomfortable with each passing second, thinking rapidly of all the deals he had ever made and trying to remember if there was anything he could do to force her to leave.

And then it came to him. Like a sudden blow to the head he remembered one of his first cases, back when he was a little impressionable demon who watched his teacher make the deals, and whose thoughts mirrored Jones's when it came to humans. He tried not to groan aloud as he found the answer. It wasn't desirable, but if it was the only way to rid himself of the woman, he really had no choice.

Forcing his voice not to tremor from the shame, he finally straightened himself and met her eyes head-on.

"I'll need a week, Mrs. Edelstein." He growled, his eyes hard. It was fine. There was nothing wrong with it if it was to reach his final goal.

"I understand." Her smile never faltered. She was completely at peace with her decision.

He crossed his legs and turned his eyes from her, staunchly facing the wall as she left.

He grit his teeth as the sounds of the limo faded. He couldn't let anyone know what was to transpire.

He tried to ignore the suffocating feeling of wrongness that was pressing down on his chest, making him feel sick to his stomach. He sneered at nothing, shifting in his chair to try and rid himself of the horrible feeling.

xXx

"I saw them, you know? Both of them." Arthur's pride made it impossible to look at Alfred as he leered down from in front of his desk.

"And?" he glowered, focusing intently at the card that sat open on his desk.

He could see Alfred out of the corner of his eyes, grinning at him like a fool. He didn't like it. Even though he had prepared himself for Jones' reaction, it still made Arthur uncomfortable to have him stare at him with such an annoying look of hope. What was it about humans and optimism?

He didn't have time to indulge Jones in his irritating little faith. If Arthur's master found out he had let a willing soul go, the repercussions would be deadly, especially as his master would never be able to understand his reasoning.

His master could have never sold her soul anyway. He was doing him a favour. Even though Arthur had made a loss, the eventual return in the form of Jonas's soul would be so great that it would be worth it in the end.

"Do you need something?" he growled to Jonas' shadowed form. Arthur could practically feel the boys' happiness as he beamed at him.

His only reply was a slight laugh of joy. He took it as a no and ignored the unfamiliar feel of embarrassment. "Then leave."

His eyes followed his back as he threw open the doorway, letting the light of the corrupt planet invade his home. It shone hideously into his safe world, the shadows desperately fleeing the moment the light touched them. Jonas stopped, his hand curled around the door, grinning; his eyes triumphant and proud.

"You've done a good thing." said Alfred. Arthur glared at him, annoyed with himself for being so weak.

"Get out." he snarled. Alfred simply chuckled as he released the door.

He hadn't given in. Letting her live and bringing him back wasn't admitting defeat. Humans always said you had to sometimes take a step back to move forward. He had simply chosen to take a longer route. There was nothing wrong with that, and it wasn't like he didn't have the time.

It was better this way. With Jones believing him to be capable of acts of kindness, his belief in humans and in Arthur would grow, making his soul even richer and more profitable when he finally came to realise that in the end, all humans were worthless.

He watched as the annoying sun vanished from his world again with a simple click, knowing it wouldn't be the last time he let the blinding light invade his home.

He gave a final glance to the card, unsure as to why his mouth was twisting into a wry grin at the ugly writing, obviously printed with the intent of being 'personalised', on the back of the invitation. He would reject the invitation of course; the simple idea of venturing outside the store and interacting with them like a normal human would give him nightmares. As long as the Edelsteins were alive and happy it would only take a few more nudges for Jones to tip over the edge and continue to fall until his soul was broken enough to be worth a fortune.

Alfred would die when Arthur came to collect, and then the world would turn on. The only problem now was finding a new soul to break.

Thank you for reading :)

I was considering making this into a series, with various countries coming to ask England, or Arthur, for something in exchange for their souls, and asking you all to comment a character you would like to see. Hungary, Poland and Austria have already been done, but I think it could be quite fun with other characters, it just depends :P

If you'd like this idea, feel free to leave a review with a country, and possibly a request they might make and, if I get enough, I'll make it longer than I originally planned :)
(I already have started writing the ideas I have for China, Japan and France, and I already have a clue for what I want to do with Canada and Russia (and, if you've read 'Just Another Day at the Office, you'll see I've already got a role for Prussia as well.))