For the Sake of Liberty

Summary: while on his way back tot he print shop one day, James runs into an American soldier who needs some help. APH/ Liberty's Kids crossover

Rating: K plus

Genre: Drama/suspense

T.A.R.N.S.: I had to go through trouble like you wouldn't believe to get this thing up here. Two laptops, two pen drives, and I still had to do massive amounts of copying and pasting. Oh well. I heard the Liberty's Kids theme song again the other day, and it sparked an idea. So let's give this a shot.

Disclaimer: Nope, don't own either show.

"Stupid Sarah," James Hiller muttered as he headed back through the streets of Philadelphia. "You send a girl out to get the groceries and she can't even do that right."

He turned off the main road, heading into an alley that would getting him back to the printing shop quicker. Without paying much attention to obstacles in the lane, he hurried down it, determined to show that he could do a better job than Sarah and get back home in half the time.

But he didn't watch were he was going, and ended up tripping and falling flat on his face a moment later. "Ow." Great. What was it Sarah always said? Something about pride goes before a fall?

He pushed himself back up and shoved the groceries that had fallen out back into his sack, then turned to see what he had tripped over.

A young soldier was sitting leaned against the wall of one of the buildings that backed up against the alley, one leg drawn up close to him, and the other leg stretched out into the alley. He looked up as James looked down at him.

"Hey! You're an American soldier!" James said excitedly.

The soldier glanced at him again before looking away. "What gave you that idea?" He asked bitterly. "The blue coat or the fact that I look like I've been through hell and come back?"

A smarter person would have decided then and there that maybe they should just apologize and keep going, but James didn't. "Do you have any news from the front?" He asked excitedly, dropping his bag and digging around in it for his quill pen and pad of paper.

The soldier's eyes closed, and for a moment James wondered what the other man was doing, then he opened his eyes again and spoke. "I came from the battle of Bound Brook."

James scribbled it down excitedly. "And...?"

"We lost."

"We..." The reporter paused in his writing and glanced at the soldier, then expressed his understanding of the previous statement. "What?"

"We lost." The soldier repeated. He ran a hand through his sandy blond hair and sighed. "The British had more soldiers, and we were routed."

Dejectedly, James shoved his pen and pad back into his sack and hefted it over his shoulder. Then he turned back to the soldier. "Are you hungry?"

The other man considered the question for a moment, then nodded. "Yes, a little. Mostly I'm just tired."

"You should come back to the print shop with me," James said. "You can get some food there, and rest."

"Thanks," The soldier replied.

"I'm James Hiller."

"Alfred F. Jones," The soldier said.

"Nice to meet you Alfred. Let's get back to the shop."

The first thing Sarah noticed when the pair walked through the door was that the man accompanying James was very cute. She found herself blushing at the thought, but the blush vanished a moment later when she saw he was wearing the uniform of an American soldier.

With a huff, she turned back to her writing.

"What have you done this time, James?" Moses asked, leaving his work at the printing press to go take the sack of missing groceries from him, and study the soldier standing next to him.

"This is Alfred Jones," James said. "I met him on the way home, and he has news from the war. He also needs a place to stay."

"You're going to get us all into trouble, James." Sarah spoke up. "When the British troops find out we're harboring a rebel traitor..."

Alfred flinched and James glared. "Well, as long as no one tells any British soldiers, I don't think they're going to know." He said pointedly.

"That's enough, both of you." Moses said pointedly. "No one's going to turn any one in to any armies. Understand?" Sarah and James both nodded.

"Who is being turned in?" Henri asked, popping up from behind the table.

"No one." Moses said, then turned back to Alfred. "Have a seat. Would you like something to drink?"

"Please." Alfred replied as he gratefully sank into a chair at the table.

Without a word, Sarah stood and went to the stove, bringing back a cup of steaming liquid and setting it down in front of the soldier.

Alfred took a sip and winced, then pushed the cup away. "Do you have any coffee?" He asked. "I don't drink tea anymore."

James turned a triumphant look on Sarah. "Not drinking tea. The sign of a true patriot."

Sarah turned up her nose at him. "I hardly see what one drinks or doesn't drink has to do with anything."

Moses sighed. "Enough, you two. James, get Mr. Jones something to drink."

James fetched a cup of coffee and set it in front of Alfred, the got his pen and pad. "Tell us about the battle at Bound Brook." he urged.

"What is there to tell?" Alfred said dully. "We lost. What more has to be told?" Then he sighed and leaned back in his chair, resting his head in one hand. "The British soldiers marched out before dawn. They caught us by surprise. We didn't have time." He chuckled bitterly. "We barely had time to run. Benjamin Lincoln's command lost 100 soldiers, maybe more. We don't know what happened to them."

"I'm surprised you came back here." Moses said. "The British army has control of the city. This is no place for a American soldier."

"I didn't plan to stay," Alfred said, sipping the coffee. "I'm on my way to New York."

"You're deserting?" James asked incredulously.

"No." Alfred shook his head. "General Washington know where I'm going, and he knows when he should expect me back. I'm on my way to New York. Or I was."

"You know General Washington?" Henri asked.

Alfred nodded.

"What are you going to New York for?" Henri pestered.

"I have to talk to John Adams ... it's classified." He finished lamely. "I can't tell you anymore."

"If you ask me this is all foolishness." Sarah huffed, her arms crossed over her chest. "Everyone should put aside this war foolishness and give it up. Parliament would never pass an unjust law."

Moses groaned inwardly and turned away from the printing press, anticipating another fight between James and Sarah, but Alfred spoke before James could retort. "Unjust? Do you even know what that word means?" He asked, blue eyes boring into her. "How is taxing every import just? How is having to fund more of England's wars in Europe just? If we were all British citizens – and we were until last year – then why didn't we have representation in Parliament?"

For that, Sarah had no answer.

Alfred smiled sadly and looked down at his cup. "They must have different meanings for some words back in England."

His melancholy was interrupted by Henri tugging on his coat a moment later. "Mister Jones, your arm is bleeding."

Alfred glanced down at both of his arms and found that he was indeed bleeding from his left bicep; a stain spreading over the sleeve of his blue coat. "Oh."

"Where did you get that wound?" Sarah asked.

"Bound Brook." Alfred replied. "A bullet went through my arm."

Henri winced, an act that Alfred noticed. "It isn't that bad. It looks worse then it is."

"If you want, I can bandage that up for you." Moses offered.

The soldier seemed surprised by the offer at first, but after a moment, he said "Thank you."

Alfred stayed at the table, his coat and shirt half-off so Moses could clean and bandage his arm. As he sat there wincing, he told James, "If you quote me in your newspaper, I would appreciate it if you didn't use my name."

"Alright." James replied, scribbling down a note about that down on his paper.

"Do you have any family Mr. Jones?" Sarah asked.

"No. I was raised by my older brother, but we had a falling out not long ago." Alfred said, grimacing as Moses rubbed a salve into his wound. "We're fighting on different sides of this war now. He's with the British, I'm with the Americans."

"That must be rough," James muttered. "Your brother's got to be angry."

"Try furious." Alfred corrected as Moses finished bandaging his wound. "And even that might not be strong enough."

Tiring of the talk, Henri decided to go outside and see what was happening in the streets of the city. He slipped out the door as quietly as he could and started walking down the street.

He walked for a few blocks, then turned a corner and hastily backtracked. Peering back around the corner, he glanced at the group of British soldiers. The one who seemed to be in charge was somewhat shorter than the others, and had the biggest eyebrows Henri had ever seen.

As calmly as he could, Henri turned and began walking back the way he'd come.

But the soldiers were coming around the corner and heading in the same direction as Henri was going. As soon as he was able too, Henri turned into an alleyway and got back to the print shop as fast as he could.

But while his twisting, turning path might have kept the British soldiers off his trail, the leader had had a different idea, as Henri discovered when he came slinking back around the corner of the print shop.

"Alright men. Our quarry should be around here somewhere. I want every building searched." The leader announced. "And remember, when you find him, I want him brought to me."

Not sure who 'he' was, but sure that James and the others deserved some warning before the Redcoats came knocking on the print shop door, Henri slipped around to the front door and hastily burst into the print shop, and act that did not go unnoticed by the Redcoat's leader.

Alfred had been somewhat surprised to realize that he was actually in Ben Franklin's print shop ("He didn't tell me he was going to move the shop. Then again, it has been awhile since I've been to Philadelphia"), while Sarah, James, and Moses had been surprised to learn that Alfred knew Franklin. ("But not very surprised," James pointed out. "After all, Ben does know a lot of people.")

Their conversation was cut short when Henri burst into building, slamming the door shut behind him. "Soldiers!" Henri exclaimed, panting and leaning against the door. "British Soldiers!"

Alfred stood up as James asked, "Coming here?"

Henri nodded. "Oui. They are patrolling the whole street."

There was the sound of footsteps on the cobble outside. Moses turned to Alfred. "Get upstairs," he said. "And if you hear the soldiers come upstairs, get to the loft. It's not a good chance, but it's the only one we can give you."

Alfred nodded and darted up the stairs; vanishing out of sight just as there came a banging at the door. Henri moved out of the way as the door flew open and four soldiers came into the room; three soldiers with the same height and build, but different facial features, and the leader Henri had seen before.

Crouched on the floor not far from the stairs, Alfred listened to the conversation taking place downstairs.

"I'm looking a for an American soldier who was spotted around here," The leader said. Alfred inhaled sharply, that voice, it couldn't be ...

Back in the main room of the shop, the leader glanced around, green eyes landing on everyone in the room. Probably dirty Patriots, the lot of 'em. "Who has come through here recently?"

"Well, I got back a few minutes ago from getting supplies." James offered.

"Has anyone else been through here?"

"What are you insinuating?" Sarah asked.

He glared at her. "I am assuming that there is at least a traitor or two here would be more than willing to help a American Soldier escape."

"A traitor..." Sarah trailed off, then said indignantly, "I certainly hope you aren't assuming that I am a a traitor, Mister-"

"Sir." He corrected her title. "Sir Arthur Kirkland."

At that, Alfred had to slap a hand over his mouth to keep from gasping out loud. This was not good, not good at all... he turned, and moving as quietly and quickly on the soles of his boots as he could, headed down the hall checking the doors as he went, until he found one that opened to a staircase.

"Well Sir Kirkland, you should know that I am a loyal subject of his majesty King George the Third." Sarah continued.

"Good. One less person in this room I have to worry about." Arthur replied, then turned to the soldiers. "Search the place."

The soldiers split up and started opening doors and poking around the room. One of them investigated the cellar, and Sir Kirkland watched the whole search.

"No one's hiding down here." One of the soldiers announced.

"One of you stay here and guard this door." Sir Kirkland ordered. "Make sure no one leaves. You two, with me." He finished, and headed up the stairs.

At the sound of the first foot on the stairs, Alfred darted up into the loft, as quietly as he could. He found a hiding spot behind some trunks and boxes - not a good hiding spot, but it would keep him hidden from anyone who happened to walk up into the loft, as long as they didn't bother to look around and behind things.

Underneath him, he could hear the sounds of doors opening and closing and the murmur of voices. Then came a sound that made his heart start racing: someone was coming up the stairs.

Hoping and praying he wouldn't be spotted, he hunkered down even further and held his breath as the door open and a British soldier entered the room.

The soldier glanced around, but other than some boxes and trunks in one corner and an old chifferobe against the wall, the place appeared empty. He strode over to the chifferobe and flung the doors wide open, aiming his weapon at the inside. But no one was there. He glanced around one more time, then turned and headed back downstairs.

As soon as he was sure the soldier was gone, Alfred let out the breath he'd been holding with a relieved sigh. He leaned back on the floor and stared up the ceiling.

That had been too close for comfort.

Sir Kirkland descended back to the first floor with a frown firmly planted on his face. He'd checked some of the rooms upstairs himself, and though the soldiers with him had reported that they had seen no one, he still felt like he was missing something.

He glanced at James and the others as he came into the front room. He was sure that the blonde boy was a Patriot sympathizer, even if the girl claimed to be a Loyalist. The French boy and the Negro weren't worth worrying about.

"If you see any American soldiers around here, I want it reported to the nearest British garrison immediately." Arthur said. He glanced at the colonists in the room. "Savvy?"

"Don't worry Sir Kirkland." Sarah said. "If we spot any American soldiers we will alert you immediately."

James narrowed his eyes at her, an act the made Arthur frown. Yes, definitely a Patriot. Still feeling like he'd missed something, Arthur turned and headed for the door. "Let's go, men. We'll continue our search elsewhere."

As soon as the soldiers were gone, everyone in the room let out a collective sigh of relief.

"That was close." James said.

"Come on." Moses said. "let's get some supplies together for Mr. Jones, and then we can get him out of here. Those soldiers might come back at any time."

As the men behind her rustled through cupboards and sacks, putting a bag together for Alfred to take, Sarah lifted a corner of the curtain and peered out into the street. It had been sunny when James left, but since he had come back, it had been getting more overcast.

But she wasn't paying attention to the clouds as much as to the soldiers still in the street. She dropped the curtain and turned to the others. "I don't think Mr. Jones will be able to leave soon. There are still dozens of soldiers out there. It's a fine mess you've gotten us into this time, James."

"Me? How is this my fault?" James asked.

"You brought Mr. Jones back here, and if the British had found him, we would have all been in real trouble." Sarah replied.

"Well I could hardly leave him out there." James said. "He's fighting for our freedoms."

"Freedom? We would have had freedom if it wasn't for this stupid war."

"What do you mean 'stupid'?"

Choosing to ignore the squabbling going on behind him, Moses turned to Henri. "Let's go find Mr. Jones."

The French boy nodded, and followed the black man upstairs, leaving Sarah and James to their fight.

"Mr. Jones." Moses called quietly as they walked through the second floor.

"Alfred Jones." Henri repeated. Then he turned to Moses. "You told him to get to the loft if the soldiers came. Maybe he's up there."

Moses nodded and the two of them headed up the stairs that lead to the loft. Once they were up there, it wasn't hard to find Alfred; he was asleep propped up against some of the boxes, something Henri could not comprehend.

"Who sleeps sitting up?" The boy asked.

"Someone who's very tired." Moses replied. "Go get a blanket out of that box over there."

Henri retrieved the blanket, folded it in half, and laid it on the floor. "You're going to let him sleep?"

"Might as well. He can't go anywhere until the British leave." Moses replied as he grabbed Alfred's forearms and heaved him up just enough to sit him on the blanket and then lay him down on his back on the floor.

Through it all Alfred never stirred.

"Come on Henri." Moses said as he headed back towards the door.

After taking one last glance at Alfred, Henri followed him.

The rumble of thunder was what first woke him.

It was a low rumble, and it accompanied the storm that had arrived over Philadelphia about the same time that the British had started their search. It was the rumble of thunder that permeated his subconscious mind and woke him.

When Alfred opened his eyes, he wasn't immediately sure where he was. Then it came back to him. He was at Ben Franklin's print shop in Philadelphia and he'd been forced to hide from...

...Arthur.

Alfred sat up and rubbed his eyes. The only light in the small loft came from the window, and even that was subdued now that the sky was full of gray clouds. Alfred yawned, wishing he could sleep longer; then he stood up and cautiously headed back down to the second floor.

There was the sound of voices from the first floor, and he paused to listen, but none of them sounded like British soldiers. Deciding to risk it, he started down the stairs that would take him to the first floor.

At the sound of booted footsteps on the stairs, Sarah, James, Henri and Moses stopped what they were doing and glanced at the stairway, a fact that Alfred noticed as he came down. "Is it safe?" Alfred asked.

"Safe enough down here, but there's still a bunch of soldiers in the street." James told him.

Henri lifted the curtain over the window and peered out. "No, I think they all went inside. I can't see any Redcoats out there."

"Then I need to leave." Alfred said. "How long was I asleep?"

Moses glanced at the clock. "About twenty minutes."

Alfred nodded, then asked, "Do you have a side door? Or window?"

"Door, no. Window, yes." James replied as he picked up a small sack off the floor. "Henri and I will show you."

The three of them headed down the hall and to the very end of the shop, then into a room on their right, which put them closest to the alley. The room had two windows, one that went into the alley, and one that opened out the side of the building.

"We have some supplies for you to take," James said as he handed Alfred the sack.

"Thank you," Alfred said as he took it. "And tell the other I said thanks. Especially that girl, Sarah. She could have turned me in."

"It's not the first time she's saved us from the British." James said. "I'll make a Patriot out of her yet."

"Good luck." Alfred said as he opened the window. "And thanks." He scrambled out through the window and into the drizzling rain.

James shut the window and turned to Henri. "Let's get back to work. We have to get tomorrow's paper ready."

"Hey, James, do you think we'll ever see Mister Jones again?" Henri asked.

"I don't know Henri. I don't know." James said.

"Don't know what?" Sarah asked as she walked into the room.

"If we will see Mr. Jones again." Henri said.

"That's what makes war such an awful thing," Sarah said as she strode from the room, the two boys following her. 'Seperating families, sending young men to thier graves before thier time. Maybe if we could all just learn to get along this wouldn't have to happen.'

"Even though Alfred himself told you that the way the British are treating the colonies isn't right, you still insist that it's fine." James said. "What is it with you?" When Sarah didn't reply, he continued. "War is a bad thing, I agree, but this time we'll have to fight."

Sarah paused and turned to face him. "And what are the colonies fighting for, James?"

His answer was simple. "For the sake of liberty."

T.A.R.N.S: I like this ending so much better than my other one. The battle of Bound Brook was a real battle that the American forces lost, and Philedelphia was controled by the British for awhile, and both of these events took place in 1777, so it all worked out for this story. I apoligise for typos; I think my shift key hates me.

Anyway, I hope it was somwhat suspenseful there for a few moments, and please review and tell me what you thought!