A/N: Hello, everybody and welcome to my third Hetalia fic. This fic is something different for me. I usually write a bunch of comedy. So, I was trying to challenge myself by writing something more drama filled. Let's see how it goes. This fic will be 10 chapters long, one for each year in the decade of 1953-1962. (Maybe longer if I have to double on a year, if the chapter gets too long. Probably won't happen though.) I chose this time period because I wanted to do something during the Cold War. I wanted to try my hand at writing a paranoid America. Anyways, this is fic is mostly about England's and America's relationship as it goes on between the years. You guys have no idea how nervous I am about posting this, I think its pretty much crap. Anyways, I hope you enjoy and would love some feedback, Thanks.
"Congratulations."
England said in a near whisper. A faint smile adorned his face as he looked up at the American who grinned back, the reflection of the sun bouncing off his glasses. It was early evening when he arrived at America's door steps, yet the sun still glowed brightly in the late July sky. "I guess. I'm just happy it's over." America shrugged as he lifted the other's suitcase off the ground and entered the house, England following suit.
"Yes." England replied simply. It had been several months since he had last seen the younger nation, having to communicate primarily through the phone. It seemed that the slight distance between the two had made England self-conscious about how to conduct himself around the American.
After finding himself alone in the room immediately after entering, he began to roam around, acquainting himself with it once more. It hadn't changed much.
America peered over to the Brit from mid-stairway as he was climbing down, after placing the suitcase in the bedroom. England was standing awkwardly in the middle of the living room, glancing around at the items decorating a nearby shelf. England smiled lightly when he noticed a picture of the five allies during the war. It had been America's idea to take the picture during a rare moment of calmness. They all thought he was being ridiculous at the time, of course, the scowls on all of their faces being the proof. America was the only one that carried a large smile. Russia was also holding a grin yet, looked no different than the one he always held. Now that he looked back upon it, he was glad they decided to take it.
England turned his attention away from the photo once hearing the creaking stair steps. He stood still, watching as the American came up to him and smiled at him gently. They both stood there not needing anything, just enjoying the quiet surrounding them as they basked in each other's company. England's attention was completely entranced with the vibrant blues that he didn't notice when America's hands first reached either side of his face. Realizing that the other was closing their gap, England turned a light shade of pink and closed his eyes. It was a slow and soft kiss that lasted just a few seconds before America pulled away, only enough to be able to see the other's emerald eyes. "I'm happy you're here." He said tenderly before laughing at the sight of England's face becoming more flushed. "You're so British." He continued to laugh, finding it even more amusing when the other pushed him away.
"You prat." England said turning away, trying to hide his still red face.
"Aw, baby, you know you love me." America nudged him until he looked back around, a glare accompanying his colored cheeks.
"Even if I did." The Brit huffed, making his way to the kitchen in search of tea, no doubt. The American followed afterward, still highly entertained.
It has been close to eight years since the nations began their "special relationship", not only in the political sense. They had known each other for centuries yet, their journey to get where they were started slowly throughout their years in the war.
It was easy to feel connected with someone when you're out fighting, having to greatly depend on them. You're constantly with each other, providing support. Also, with them being countries, they had extra time to spend together. They had fought the Great War together as well but, there was a different spark between the two from the very beginning this time around. France took great pleasure in consistently mocking them, making jokes about their tension. England wouldn't hesitate to throw every British slur at him he could, but he also couldn't ignore the subtle touches, smiles, and the longer than usual eye contact.
There were three kisses that helped them pave the way to their new found relationship. The first being one of comfort. It was April 14, 1945, the funeral of America's boss.
Nations often got attached to their bosses, making it an incredibly dreadful moment when one lost them. England always thought that America was lucky; he didn't have to lose people he watched grow up like he did. However, when England noticed just how devastated the American was, he realized he was grateful to have that extra time with his people. It was clear why America had gotten so attached to this particular boss. They went through a lot together, from the depression to the beginning and near end of the war. They were given more time to bond through all the dreaded situations, making this loss especially painful. On top of that, America not only felt his sadness but all the grief and sorrow of his people as they witnessed their leader leave them after more than 12 years. America held in tears throughout the entire ceremony because "heroes don't cry", but the reddened trim around his eyes said otherwise. England knew that on the inside, America could feel every tear his citizens dropped and that made him desperately want to be strong for them.
After the ceremony and sending their condolences to the first lady, they found a nearby bench and simply sat down. They stayed there for hours, not one word muttered. The only movement being made was England placing a comforting hand over his grieving friend's. The sky was just beginning to don a purple hue when England felt the American shift beside him. America had changed the glance he held for hours from staring straight ahead to their connected hands. England didn't know when it had happened, but apparently he had been rubbing circles around America's hand with his thumb. He immediately stopped when finally becoming aware. After stopping he quickly peered up to find that blue and green were now connected, as well. England didn't know what drove him to place his free hand on the other's cheek. It could have been his eyes that morbidly looked more beautiful as they shined behind the coat of unshed tears or the look of plain anguish on his face. It could have even been England's own sense of grief that needed a touch of comfort. Either way, England leaned in. It had been warm and incredibly gentle and neither dared to rush through. As they took their time, England felt a fallen droplet of water escape America's eye as it rolled off his hand. England did nothing to stop it or remove it, choosing instead to deny its existence. Just like the very incident itself. It was a silent truce to not speak of it again and it stayed like that to this very day.
The first kiss was unspoken of but, with out it,the others wouldn't have had a chance. Fortunately, those took place during much more joyous occasions.
It hadn't been a complete month since the death of America's boss, when Europe was celebrating their victory against Germany. It was VE Day in London, where both nations rejoiced within the large crowds that shouted out victory cheers. America knew that his side of the war wasn't over yet, but was able to push it to the side when he heard the roars of glory. The look of sheer happiness that radiated through England's eyes and smile was almost enough to make him completely forget. It was an extremely rare occurrence to ever see the Brit truly smile, his face usually taken over by a permanent grimace. So, when America witnessed England chatting animatedly with Princess Elizabeth, he couldn't resist the temptation the second she stepped away. England had been startled at first, completely taken by surprise. Then, his usual sense of worry reached him when he remembered they were in public, surrounded by hundreds of his citizens. However, he soon calmed down and responded. He had been too happy to really put up a protest and rationalized with himself, thinking that those around them were too preoccupied with their celebration to take notice.
The third kiss was the one to officially initiate their relationship, even if they never officially said it. It had been September 1945, when America came to London to see England again. America had finished meeting Japan a few days ago, where he signed the document of surrender, officially ending the war. America was still feeling guilty about what he had done to the Asian nation, especially after seeing him with his arm casted, leg splinted and, his eye patched. America, however, was relieved. He was relieved that he could finally say it was truly over. So, nothing was going to stop him as he sped towards the British nation. Not England's protests or the fact that England's boss was standing right beside them with a smirk on his face. He just wanted his congratulatory kiss.
/
"What took you so long to come visit me?" America pouted as he sat down on his couch after he switched on his television, the black and white screen playing the credits of the newly finished sitcom.
"Alfred, you know I've been incredibly busy." England replied, coming to join the American. He made sure to sit down with such a non-strained finesse in order to keep all of his warm tea from spilling. He held the saucer firmly with this left hand as he held the ear of his floral teacup in his right. Smiling, gently into the rim of the cup, he took a sip. Feeling the American's eyes on him he turned and offered him a taste, only to receive a disgusted look. "Besides, Alfred." He said clearing his throat. "You could have tried coming to visit me."
"You know I don't really want to go to Europe right now." America scrunched his brows and rubbed the back of his head. "And, I've been busy too with the war and all." He continued, England nodding as he took another drink. America signed as silence filled the room, the only sound being from the TV. It was a program he had no interest in, but felt too lazy to get up and change the channel.
They spoke the truth, times were busy. Both having to deal with the switch of their bosses and just getting their lives back together in general. Financially, England suffered greatly. Rations that had been in effect during the war were still being used, it being apparent by his substantial weight loss. He was getting better as of late, his clothes not hanging as loosely off his body as they once were. England's initial thin and pale appearance frightened the American at first, so much that he denied it. He was not used to seeing England in such a state; he was used to a nation that was always boasting with pride, an almost regal appearance. England couldn't blame the young nation, as he denied it himself until he was forced to realize the truth.
America had been lucky, his country had prospered. There was a boom in everything, industries, housing, and babies. The only painful thorn in his rose of happiness came from a new war to get involved in, the Korean War. England tried helping as well, but was not able to assist much. The number of his soldiers involved being only a fraction of those from America. Fortunately, it was over now.
"Queen Mary passed away in March." England said interrupting the noise of silence.
"Way to kill the mood, Artie."
"Ah, yes. I apologize." England replied, taking a pause from his tea and placing it softly onto his lap. He then began to dig in his pocket and pulled out a small package of candy. Opening the small bag with one pull, he promptly placed a brightly red colored hard candy into his mouth.
"No, don't be. I'm sorry. She was really nice." America placed a hand on the other's shoulders and squeezed lightly to show his support. England flinched slightly at his grip. He knew the American didn't mean to hurt him but, nowadays with his new found status as a superpower his already potent strength only became greater. England chose not to say a word about the pressure he put on his shoulder, knowing it would only make America feel highly remorseful. England also didn't want to completely come to terms with it. It was a couple of years after the war when England was still in the early stages of recovery when the American pushed him playfully, causing him to slam into a nearby brick wall. Ever since then, America had felt the need to be overly gentle him, which only frustrated the Brit. Weakness was not a good color on him.
"Yes, at times." England answered, placing a now green candy into his mouth. "Elizabeth's Coronation was beautiful, however." He finished, his eyes glowing at the memory of the luxurious event. "Did you watch the recording of it?"
"Um, of course." America answered hesitantly, his eyes shifting as he coughed in his closed fist.
"You didn't, did you?" England's eyes narrowed.
"Yes, I did!" America answered defensively as England glared. "I saw most of it." England tilted his head. "Ok, I saw some of it." England lifted a brow. "Ok, I saw like 20 minutes before I fell asleep." England sighed and shook his head, he should have known. "It was really long…and boring…stop looking at me like that…you know royalty and me don't mix…her dress was nice…"
"Oh, just stop talking." England rolled his eyes in an ungentlemanly fashion. "Honestly, Alfred. I made it for your president's inauguration; you could at least pretend to show some interest in my affairs." He continued popping in a purple treat.
"I was trying to pretend to be interested." The American obviously gave the wrong reply as he received another angry gaze from the shorter man. "What I was trying to say was…uh..." America tried to hurriedly come up with a new response that wouldn't land him on the wrong side of the angry man. Yet, before an idea left his mouth he felt a hand pat him softly on his cheek.
"Don't hurt yourself, love." The Brit said in a condescending tone of voice, accompanied with a smirk on his face. America wasn't going to get out of this one; he'd already thrown himself under the bus. "I did happen to see your brother there, however. He looked quite dashing, I may say. Like a more well-kept you, with manners."
"Tch, whatever. Mattie's a drag." America sneered, clicking of his tongue.
"Don't be so rude." England couldn't help but grin at America's reaction. "He looked charming in his tuxedo. You could learn a thing or two from him." The younger nation was currently frowning, his brow turned inward and his lips slightly pout. England greatly enjoyed when the American had his moments of insecurity. Not because he wanted to see him unsure of himself, not by any means. He just found it refreshing when America could let go of his egotistical behavior, let go of his need to claim his greatness. So, seeing America so noticeably envious of his brother made him slightly more charming in England's eyes.
"So he looks good in a suit but, he can never be as fun as me, right?" America smiled, nudging England's arm with his elbow. "Huh, Artie?" he continued, still egging on the Englishman next to him. Despite the Brit's refusal to answer, America knew he was winning this time around as he noticed the tiniest upward shift in England's lips. "I bet you even thought he was me at first, didn't you?" America's smile only became larger as he noticed England's eyes widen at the allegation. He loved his brother despite everything, really he did but, the guy was just really easy to forget sometimes. He, the hero, was even guilty of forgetting about him. He would feel much worse about it as well if he didn't forget why he was feeling guilty right afterwards.
"It's Arthur and I would not do such a thing." England insisted, regardless of the horrible job he was doing at lying. He was avoiding eye contact, fidgeting, and correcting America about his name. England had given up on the name battle a while ago, finding it too much of a hassle. He also found out that the name didn't bother him as much as he thought it did. The only time England brought it up nowadays was when he was either angry or trying to distract.
"If you say so, Arthur." America said, purposely emphasizing on the name as he scooted closer to the other. He scooted until there was no gap between them and crouched down slightly to place his head on the shorter man's shoulder.
"And I do." England replied, tilting his head, letting it rest upon the blonde locks on his shoulder. They sat silently once more, this time without the awkward strain.
England released a deep exhale; his body slowly relaxed as he listened to the soothing sounds of America's rhythmical breaths. He was tired, jetlag getting the better of him. He knew he should not fall asleep now if he wanted to adjust to the time change. "Oh." He said, finding a new topic to start on in order to keep himself awake.
"Don't say something sad." America answered quickly.
"I wasn't going to." Smiling, England placed a caressing hand on the American's cheek. "My boss got knighted a few months ago. He asked about you." He finished. England removed his hand quickly from America's face when the blue eyed American rapidly sat up, a large prominent grin finding its way onto his face.
"Good old, Churchill?"America asked with his bright teeth now being showcased. "He asked for me?"
England chuckled softly at the other blonde's child-like excitement. America had always been quite fond of his Prime Minister. He even showed genuine happiness when he came into the office once more by coming over to visit. "Yes, he asked how you were doing." England patted the other's leg when he shifted his position to better face the Brit. "I told him that you were doing well and lively but, not without your worries, of course."
"Is that all? What else did he say?"
"Not too much after that." England could not resist an internal snigger at the American's pout. "He said he was very happy to hear that and to give you a pat on the back for him." America smiled at this, he didn't really receive a pat from England but, he wanted it. So, he was going to make sure to get it one way or another. "Unfortunately, he asked how we were doing afterwards." England scrunched his brows together as he remembered the conversation he had with his boss.
"We?"
"Yes, I told him we were doing just fine, but then he started giving me relationship advice. I told him it wasn't necessary but he insisted. He just went on and on about it for over an hour. The whole conversation was quite uncomfortable-" England said at a rapid pace, shaking his head as his face became slightly flushed at the memory.
America stayed silent for a short while as he stared at the highly interesting faces England made, evidently having flashbacks to that awkward night. "Ah, Churchy, always liked him." He laughed finally snapping England out of his dreamland.
"Churchy?" England asked appalled, receiving only a grin. That was it for him. He was officially ready to end this conversation. He was even considering placing it into the list of unspoken events. He truly had no desire to ever speak of it again. He didn't want to deal with the awkward and uncomfortable emotions he was having nor, did he want to deal with America's ego. He was certain he could feel America's aura surrounding them, and right after his spell of insecurity at that. So, instead of focusing on their recent discussion England went back to enjoying his tea, now only lukewarm.
"Wait-" America knew the conversation was over. England had made it quite clear but, that's was not why he wanted to regain England's attention. They had been sitting there, side by side for some time now. Yet, this was the first he noticed what England was placing in his mouth while drinking his favorite drink. "Are you eating candy?" He asked, receiving a soft 'yes'. "With tea?" he replied back, as if confirming what was in the cup.
"Yes." England responded much more firmly, getting tired of the questions with such obvious answers.
"Gross, why?" America scrunched his nose and let his tongue slip out of his mouth, clearly thinking that the combination was disgusting. "Why would you want put together one of the best and worst tastes?" Rolling of the eyes ensued.
"Surely, neither tastes bad to me. In fact, the combination leaves a refreshingly good taste in my mouth." The Englishman answered, popping in an orange colored droplet for good measure. Yet, instead of receiving a look of repulsion, America smirked.
"I'll leave you a good taste in your mouth."
"Alfred!" England could feel his skin burning, knowing that it glowed with a deep shade of red. Crimson, he would say if he was able to see himself. He cursed his light skin at times; it made the blood that rushed to his face that much more noticeable. Yet, he couldn't help himself. No matter how long they have been together, he hadn't been able to adjust to America's mouth. Not the insides, he knew that fairly well, just the words that came out of it. 'Excellent.' England thought as he managed to make himself blush more brightly.
He sat there, not saying a word. His face baking in the heat he created as he glared at the laughing American. The serious gaze on the Brit's face did not make America quiet down in the slightest. It was quite counter intuitive, causing him only to cackle louder, filling the entire room. "Baby—" he began but never finished before he busted out in another round.
England huffed, as he made his way to his feet. He didn't need to take this, what he needed was another cup of tea. However, he didn't manage to take a step away. As soon as he lifted a foot off the ground, a pair of arms pulled him back. As he fell back to the couch, he landed in between America's legs. Despite England's initial sense of panic, he didn't need to fear being slammed. America was able to control his motion, stopping England a second before he made contact with his chest. America finished his movement by bringing England over to rest on him slowly, wrapping his arms around the smaller man.
"You're impossible." England said, leaning further back into America's hold. Now that he found himself sitting back down, comfortable, and nowhere to go (not that he couldn't fight his way out if he wanted to) he began to feel the tiredness fill him once more.
"I think it's amazing how you managed to keep your little tea set intact." America said amused, after a short while, his chin resting on England's shoulder.
England opened his eyes he had shut and looked down at himself. America had been right. He still held the teacup and saucer properly in his hands. "An Englishman never puts his tea in danger. "He smirked.
"Unless you leave it on some boats for me to throw." America grinned as he received an elbow to the stomach.
"Don't start with that." England shook his head with disapproval. Honesty, the nerve America had to tell him he was ruining the moment earlier. Not that the American knew anything about keeping a moment or what a moment is even comprised of. If he did, he would know to never mention anything about that time period. That's it. He knew what should be done. "Let's put that on the list as well." He said in a muffled almost inaudible voice.
"List?" America asked perplexed. England had stayed quiet for quite some time before speaking up with something the American found completely random. Yet, instead of speaking again, England turned just enough to nestle his face into America's neck. "What list?" He nudged the smaller man in his arms for an answer.
"No speak list." England muttered, still leaving America confused before his breaths evened out to a steady pace. He had lost his battle to stay awake. He had found himself too warm and comfortable to fight any longer. He didn't mind too much, he was just going to take longer to adjust to the time change. He had been through it many times before.
"Party pooper." America said into the blonde locks near the Brit's ear. After receiving no reply, America figured he should try to place England in a more comfortable position. As he shifted slowly, making sure not to wake the sleeping nation he couldn't help but to smile. In England's hands was the teacup, still being neatly held.
England yawned deeply into his hand as he took quick steps. "Would you slow down?" He shouted, having to speed up his pace. He was trying to keep up with the long legged American, his strides carrying him a lot faster than England's.
America had remained at the same level of enthusiasm the entire day. He woke up surprising early, hopping into the kitchen startling the Englishman that was making a cup of morning tea. America happily announced that he had the entire day scheduled out as he pulled England away from the room. Surely, it seemed that the excited American was in a hurry to start the day. However, he really wanted to pull the Brit out before he attempted to make them breakfast. He didn't want to start the day with a near death experience. He had too many of those as it was.
After getting dressed and finishing their morning routines, they made their way to a nearby diner for an edible meal. They walked, America felt the day was too beautiful to not enjoy to the fullest. The sun was shining brightly as the cotton white clouds accented the opaque blue. America's citizens were also enjoying the weather as many were outside roaming around town or simply sitting outside their homes. Though the Brit couldn't argue that the day was indeed beautiful he could complain, not being used to the too hot weather. "Just be happy we're not in Texas." America would joke.
Their breakfast was light and pleasant and not too greasy. The meal was America's treat. In fact, everything the two nations had done had been his treat. England had very quickly caught on to what the American was doing. He was using every excuse to take responsibility for paying; his favorite being that England was his guest. England thought it to be sweet at first. Yet, as the day progressed it soon began to infuriate the Brit.
Currently America was practically jogging towards a shoe store that was located just around the corner. As America kept picking up his pace, England was finding it increasingly difficult to keep up with the over-excited American. It didn't help that England could feel the beginning of drowsiness come along. "Ah, come on Artie. Why are you so tired, you didn't stay up for very long?" America teased.
"Hmph." England muttered, looking away. "Maybe so, but I also woke up incredibly early." He indeed fell into the land of slumber quite soon. However, his body knowing that it was day time in London woke him up in the early hours of the morning. He struggled to fall back asleep, ultimately failing. He ended up simply lying in bed until he couldn't stand it any longer and began to roam around the large house. By the time he decided it was time for his 5th cup of tea, America had woken up.
"We're almost there. Just try to keep up for a little while longer, old man." America laughed at England's disapproving grunt.
"Why did you say it was necessary to go to the shoe store now?" England asked, wiping away at the drips of sweat that coated his forehead.
"Because Artie! I need to get the new low top Converses before they sell out!" America answered, shaking his head at England's lack of knowledge, as if it was the most common known fact.
"Don't you have those already?" England questioned, taking a look at America's footwear as they finally arrived at the shoe store's front.
Looking confused and slightly appalled by England's remark, America stopped mid-way from opening the shop's door. "No." He said looking down at England with an unexpected serious expression. "I'm wearing high tops." He said correcting the still confused Englishman. After receiving no reply except for a lifted brow, America sighed and entered the store.
/
"Just how long are you planning to examine the same pair of bloody shoes?" England asked exasperated. He sat on a small bench provided for shoe testing, taking a bite out a chocolate bar that luckily hadn't melted in his pocket. He wanted a break after a day of walking in the heat, so he made his way to the small stool immediately after entering. However, now that he sat there he found himself completely—bored.
He never intended to purchase anything therefore he had to settle for watching America shop. He was fine with this at first but unfortunately, it was taking much longer then he had anticipated. The greatest factor in the time being wasted was America's need to compare every two pairs of shoes that to England looked exactly the same. He didn't think he could take it for much longer, he would soon run out of chocolate.
"They look the same to you?" asked America, temporarily turning his attention away from the shoes he held in either of his hands.
"Yes, because they are." England crossed his arms along with his legs, causing him to stretch oddly in order to reach his chocolate bar. "You could at least take a look at the nice looking pairs." He smirked smugly.
"Pfft, I think you're confused. These are great." America replied, setting the shoes back down into their respected boxes. "If you have such an eye for shoes, why don't you at least take a look, instead of just sitting there sulking?" he continued, now crossing his arms, matching the seated Brit.
"I am not sulking." The shorter man exclaimed, louder than he had hoped. His loud reaction caught the attention of one of the employees. The employee soon began to make his way over to the couple and almost reached them when America waved him off with a shake of the head. Nodding in understanding, the employee retreated towards the front of the store.
"All you've done is sit there looking annoyed." America pointed out when he turned back towards his companion. "You're sulking." He told the agitated Brit who turned way, breaking their eye contact. America wasn't going to stand for that. No one sulks during his scheduled day of fun. He was proud of his day of fun. He put a lot of thought to this day and that's saying something, considering his usual track record for planning and preparations. This was the first full day of England's visit and he wanted England to enjoy it. America really missed his irritable Brit no matter just how irritable he was being. So, if he had to, he was going to force his Brit to enjoy it.
"Come on, Arthur." America said, surprising the shorter blonde by pulling him off his seat.
"Wha—what are you doing?" England stuttered as he stumbled to stand next to the grinning American. He instantly slapped the other nation's hand off of him once he was able to catch his stance.
"Look around." The taller nation said spreading his arms out to his sides. "If you don't like awesome shoes like me, then look at the rest." He laughed while England stood there unmoving, only throwing daggers at him. America had seen England truly angry before and he had to admit that it was terrifying but, sometimes his shows of frowns were simply adorable. "Those are nice. Not too boring." America chuckled as he pointed out a pair of hideous looking shoes.
England stared up at the taller nation as if he had lost his mind. America knew they were unattractive but he also knew it would get England to argue back, and that was always fun. "Those are awful." England said curling his lips at the sheer thought of having to look at them. "Honestly, you have absolutely no taste."
"Oh, yeah? Well, which would you pick then, Mister Shoe Master?" America grinned when England accepted the challenge. He was glad that England was now participating, even if he did have to taunt him with horrible footwear.
America loved to purposely tease and aggravate the Brit; he had to admit that he sometimes enjoyed the English bickering. It was fun to listen to, with all those funny words. England stood still and silent as he observed the collection of shoes from a short distance. He moved his gaze quickly, trying to see which pair grabbed his attention (in a good way) first. After several seconds, he found a few that were good enough for a closer examination. He stepped forward, bending down to their level to get a better view. "Ah, now these." He finally said as he reached out for a box with the shoes of his liking. "These are shoes."
Inside the box was a pair of classically designed dark brown saddle shoes. The brogue trim that accented the upper part of the genuine leather gave an aura of sophistication while the neatly tied laces and precisely stitched sole gave a sense of order. They were a common shoe however, letting them be both chic yet simple, business yet casual. Though clean and smooth they seemed comfortable, durable and dependable, and over all—highly predictable. Just like England, America couldn't help to think as he smiled. They were perfect.
"You're right. They look good. You should get them." America commented as he noticed England concentrating on the box of shoes in his hands. They stood; America examining England up and down as he continued to focus on the items inside of the small cardboard box, never replying.
As America studied him, he could safely say that ultimately all of England remained the same. His hair was still messy and blonde, his brows still large and prominent, and his eyes still a vibrant jade. Yet, America couldn't help but to notice the changes others wouldn't detect. His thinner frame being one, fortunately he was close to reaching his normal weight again, but it still bothered America. He was bothered by the fact that he could do nothing to help, it all depended on the recovery of England's own nation.
Glancing down towards the shoes England was wearing, he noticed their worn and tattered appearance. It was apparent that they were old and often used. After the war, clothes rations had stayed just like many others. Luckily, it was one of the rations that had now ended, but America knew that the Brit still refused to buy anything new for himself. England continued to save as much as he could, buying only things that were completely necessary. It would make him feel extremely guilty to purchase anything while knowing that his citizens were struggling.
America smiled softly, looking back at England's face that was still holding a look of concentration as he contemplated whether to splurge a bit. There wasn't anything America could do about his weight but, he could help with this. "I'll get them!" He exclaimed grabbing the shoe box out of England's arms, knocking him out of this daze. Not waiting for a reply, America turned, walking towards the checkout. "It'll be a thank you for visiting gif—"
"I'm not a charity!" England yelled, gasping immediately afterwards, realizing that he had just made a scene. His embarrassment nevertheless, did not stop him from glaring heavily at the American's back.
America stopped dead in his tracks, looking up at the people at the counter glancing their way after hearing the commotion. He was honestly not surprised about England's outburst. He was actually surprised it hadn't happened sooner. This wasn't their first confrontation, there have been several others. England didn't like it when America gave him special treatment. It made him feel weak and useless but, America couldn't help it.
"I know." America replied smiling, when he finally turned back towards the angry Brit. The grin only making England angrier, apparent as his brows narrowed further. "I never said you were." Despite his effort to not smile once more, America failed. There was a small vein on England's forehead that always made an appearance when he was angry. Not knowing why, America found it rather amusing. "Can't I just like buying you things?" He asked.
England's eyes stayed sharp as he continued to stare up at the American. He didn't have an answer to that. What was he supposed to say? That he wasn't allowed to like buying him things? That was absurd. He always believed in giving to the ones you loved. He had gone to great lengths in the past to give things for America, including injuring himself while building. Yet, this was different, he didn't want his pity.
"I just like making you happy." America said, knowing he had won this round when England's eyes softened. England sighed, finally looking away and replied with an almost inaudible 'fine.'
"Great!" America exclaimed, placing a hand on the Brit's shoulders. "So, one pair of boss looking shoes for me and some boring shoes for you; sounds about right." America laughed as he turned around heading for the counter once more, England still glaring behind him. America's expression also softened once it was out of the England's view. He held in a sigh, knowing that England must have really taken a liking to these shoes as he didn't put up much of a fight. There had been times when he'd run out with a slam of the door.
"Good evening, gentlemen!" America shouted out upon finally reaching the front of the store, slamming the two boxes on the counter. He immediately gained the attention of the two attending employees. Nodding, one employee left through a door a side door, leaving the employee at the counter to do the checkout.
England sighed as he stood slightly behind, not wanting to call any more attention to himself after his two earlier displays. No matter how hard he tried to stay low key, of course America couldn't help but to draw attention. He decided to drown out the rest of their interaction and focused on finishing his chocolate bar that he had shoved into his pocket after being forced to shop.
"Hello, sir. My name is Steven." greeted the employee. "Did you find everything okay?" he asked out of courtesy while taking a quick glance at the British man standing close by. America had missed it but, England clearly did not as he blushed and turned away.
"Yes, everything was fine, thanks." America answered gleefully. "Just these two." He said, pushing the boxes closer to the young man.
As Steven prepared the two pairs, America's eyes began to wander. As he took in what he saw within the store he couldn't help but to stop his sights on another young employee, one that he had missed before. He sat further way from the counter at a regular wooden desk. He had ashy blond hair and wore the same attire as Steven. A pair of black dress pants, a white dress shirt and, a brown vest. He appeared to be doing paperwork as he was surrounded by what looked like documents and folders.
America didn't know why this man had caught his attention. He didn't know what caused him to stare at an employee that seemed to be minding his own business. It was as if he had seen him before. Had he? He did look familiar. America often strolled around town; he saw many people at varies different places. It was very much possible to have seen him around or even in this very store.
"Sir? Sir?" The gentleman at the counter repeated himself several times, trying to knock America out of this stupor. His attempts had failed; he managed to catch England's attention instead.
England had also been in his own world, glazing out of the large glass door to the scenery outside until he heard the employee's calls. When England turned to focus once more on the happenings within the shop he noticed America, staring straight ahead towards another worker. He stood there with a blank face as the other repeated his calls. It wasn't like America was purposely ignoring the employee. No, it did not seem like he was being rude or playing a joke. It appeared as if his mind was so out of the moment that he simply couldn't hear him.
"Alfred?" England called, touching America's arm to try his attempt at getting his attention.
America jumped at the touch before blinking his eyes several times. "Huh?" he stuttered out, turning to look at England who now stood beside him.
"He was talking to you." England answered, gesturing towards the employee.
"Oh." America quickly responded and turned back towards Steven. He smiled one of his bright smiles briefly in a failed attempt to make it up to him.
"That'll be $23.89, sir." Steven smiled back hesitantly. America nodded in understanding as he took his wallet out to pay the man.
England followed his every move, from pulling the wallet out of his pocket to digging for the money. What he noticed was that no matter what actions America made, he always took at least a millisecond to glance up. His eyes were shooting straight through Steven and onto the worker in the rear.
England narrowed his eyebrows as he witnessed America hand over the money, never taking the time to look Steven in the eye.
Steven fidgeted as he took the payment, being able to sense the awkwardness of the current situation. Feeling the need to step away, he quickly handed the shopping bag to his customer and rushed to the register for the change.
The store became eerily settle, the only sounds being from the chimes and dings from the cash register. America continued to stare straight ahead as England kept his eyes on him. Meanwhile, Steven who was desperately trying to avoid anyone's gape shut the register with a loud band that filled the store. He mumbled to himself, most likely cursing the ever so noisy machine as he made his way back to his customer, change in hand.
The elder blonde released a breath when the change was given. He was relieved that they were now able to leave this situation. Ready to leave, he turned around to make his way towards the large glass doors. He didn't get very far. America was following slowly until the young worker that sat further back look up and away from his paperwork. England stopped and turned back when he heard the American's steps cease. "Alfred?" he called out, becoming increasingly worried.
America nodded his head at the sound of his name yet, remained still.
England stepped closer when he noticed just how uncomfortable Steven stood. He stood with his head tilted down, playing with the hem of his dark brown vest. Just as England placed his hand on America's arm the other worker looked over and smiled. America's flinched and returned to the counter, starling Steven and completely dismissing the arm that now hung in the air.
"Hello, sir." said the worker at the desk as he stood up for another stretch.
"Do I know you?" America asked, his voice sounding uncharacteristically stern and with what England noted, a hint of fear.
"Well, I've seen you around here before, Mr. Jones." America's eyes widen momentarily before his brows tapered, bringing them closer together in a fury as he slammed his hands on the counter with a large bang. The loud noise echoed through the silent shop. It was a miracle that the sheer force of the blow hadn't caused a crack in the wood.
"How do you know my name?" America shouted. Steven, now terrified quickly backed away just happy that the yells were not directed towards him. England called out but again was ignored.
"I—I—" The Employee stammered, holding on the desk for support. "I've seen you around here before, Mr—sir." he managed to release, catching himself before repeating the name. He didn't want to take the chance of setting the angry customer into another fit of rage. "You've introduced yourself to other employees before." his knuckles turning white due to his grip on the desk.
"Oh!" America tilted his head to the right and released a daunting laugh. "So, you just happen to have heard it. Is that it?" he sniggered again at the employee's nod. "How convenient!" England tried many times to gain America's attention, but his shouts were directed towards deaf ears. America continued to terrify the employee with his relentless yelling. "What else did you happen to find out about me, huh?" America began pacing wildly alongside the counter. He felt around the surface frantically, searching for the means to get around the counter and into the employee's area. Finding it locked, he remained pacing with his back hunched, appearing similar to a lion's stalking.
"What else? Tell me!" He stopped suddenly slamming his palms on top of the counter top.
"I don't know anything, sir." The employee replied shaking his head frenetically, his eyes quickly shifting towards his co-worker. His face pleaded for some sort of assistance that didn't come as Steven only returned his look.
"Don't look at him." America shouted, noticing the swift contact. "I'm talking to you!"
"Alfred, calm down!" England called out as he grabbed hold of America's arm to only have it pushed away. England was at a loss for words and actions. He was uncertain of how to finally snap the superpower out of this trance he had gotten himself into, without further frightening the citizens. He dreadfully watched America again assault the counter as he demanded information. The collisions caused the two employees to flinch and the register to make involuntary chimes.
What finally made England cringe in worry was when he heard the ring of the small bell that hung above the door, indicating that a new customer had entered. He turned towards the entrance were a lady in a lovely flushed dress that were so popular at the time stood frightened as she held on to the hand of her young daughter. She couldn't have been any older than 7, with her symmetrical pigtails. She clung more tightly on to her mother's hand as America pointed to the scared employee with a shout.
"If you just tell me what you know, I'll even let them let you off easy!" he barked, leaving the employee even more baffled and petrified.
"But I don't know anything!" he replied earnestly with a tone of desperation.
The bell rang again as the woman and her daughter hastily made their way out. England looked on as they walked away, taking the time to glance back every now and then. England scrunched his brows, having enough. He treaded heavily towards America, grabbing firmly onto his forearm. "Alfred!" he pulled only to have America squirm his arm harshly, trying to free himself from the grip. Not going to let himself be pushed away yet again, England yanked America's arm far enough to have enough room to squeeze in the space between him and the counter.
"Alfred!" England shouted as he grabbed hold of either sides of America's face in his hands. America thrashed his head, fighting to get released. It was as he didn't even realize who or what was holding him. His glaze still shot above England's head and straight onto the employee.
Pushing down on his ears, England noticed America flinch before pulling him down to eye level. "Stop it." He said in a somber demanding low tone.
The gravity of England's voice stopped America momentarily, blinking several times as if waking. A rustle in the back, most likely the employee stirring nearly caused America's head to shoot back up. Yet, England anticipating such a movement brought their foreheads together. "Stop it." He whispered, just loud enough for only the two to hear. "He's not what you think he is." He pulled away in order to see him in the eye.
America opened his mouth, ready to protest, only to have it covered by England's hand. "Just look at him." Glancing over to the rear of the store, he noticed for the first time without a complete tunnel vision, a frightened young man.
In the time that it took for England to calm America down, the employee had managed to step behind the desk. As if standing behind it would better shield him from an attack. He was still holding onto the desk tightly, his knuckles still a pale white and his arms visibly shaking. As America continued to look on, also peering over to Steven who hid behind the cash register, he realized something. He only managed to scare some of his citizens and what kind of hero did that?
He took in every bit of the employee's appearance before turning back to England who had now let go of his face and smiled. It was his way of reassuring England that he had finally snapped out of whatever he was going through.
England nodded in understanding, believing him after noticing that his eyes were no longer glowing darkly. They had returned to their usual bright and youthful shine. England stepped away from the tight space as he made his way to the forgotten shopping bag, picking it up before sending a look towards the American.
He stood awkwardly, fidgeting slightly, moving one leg then the other. He was looking down at the ground, finding his old shoes very interesting while he rubbed the back of his head. He tried picking his head up to only bring it back down. It wasn't until he heard a presumably fake cough from England that made him lift his head. "Um…I'm sorry for that." He said before quickly making his way out the door.
England, who still stood by the counter watched as he flew by. Looking over to the two workers, he bowed lightly. "I greatly apologize for what just happened and the inconvenience it might have caused." He quickly said before joining America outside.
He was solemnly standing out by the street. His face carried no expression as he stared off into the distance at the slowly dropping sun. England slowly made his way to the younger nation, not saying a word as he stood by him, only observing. "What?" America asked, feeling the England's eye's on him.
"Don't 'what' me, Alfred. What was that?" England gestured back to the shoe store with a he tilt of head.
"It wasn't anything." America shrugged, stepping off the curb and began walking.
"Don't give me that." He said following. "That was clearly not 'nothing'."
America released an agitated grunt and rolled his eyes as he continued to hike down the street, only stopping momentarily as cars passed through. "Don't this. Don't that. Ok, daddy." He mocked.
"Alfred."
"Ok!" America said stopping abruptly and faced the older nation, catching him by surprise "So, I freaked out a little." He shrugged again, also letting out a frustrated breath.
"A little?" England shook his head, before following a person with is eyes as they walked by. "I think that was a little more than a little." He continued, lowering his voice.
"Are you just going to argue back with everything I say?" America asked, his own voice rising instead, completely making England's attempt at not making another scene futile. "Because if you are, then what's the point of saying anything?" America averted his eyes, deciding to himself that he didn't want to be there right now, he took off again, not waiting for England to say a word.
"Alfred!" England called out, pursuing the speedy American. America was not truly walking to his fullest, however. He had no intent of losing the Brit. He just didn't feel like discussing his behavior at the moment. England was aware of this as he was not having any trouble keeping up with him. In fact, he was only a couple steps ahead and England only needed a few large steps to reach him.
"Would you calm down?" England lunged forward, managing to grab hold of America's arm.
America stopped the second he felt England's hand on him. He didn't know what else to do. He wasn't running. That's not what heroes do, he just wished England wouldn't hassle him about this. He wasn't in the mood. He just wanted to go home, relax a bit, and then continue on with his day of fun.
America was so deep within his own thoughts that England's hand on his chest caught him by complete surprise. The older nation now stood in front of him, holding a concerned expression. America frowned deeply. He really didn't want a lecture right now.
"I did tell you that he wasn't what you thought he was, didn't I?" England asked, only receiving a nod in return. "That means I have a slight idea what that was all about." He sighed as the American stayed silently still. "Not everyone that looks remotely like Russia is after you, you know?" America's eyes widened, it seemed that his behavior was more obvious than he had expected. "So, I take by your reaction, that my assumptions were correct?"
"You-" America began, stilling refusing to completely face the Brit. "You can never know." He crossed his arms, a movement he made in order to stop himself from fidgeting. "You know he's after me, trying to find information about me. He can have people anywhere. I'm just trying to be careful." His eyes roamed, taking in his surroundings. England frowned at his actions, becoming increasingly worried.
"You're being careful by yelling at random people?" England asked.
America unfolded his arms harshly, slapping them on his denim covered legs. "See! There you go again." He snapped, this time leaving it to England to huff a sigh as he crossed his own arms around his chest. "I know I didn't exactly do the right thing, okay? It's just I have to look out for suspicious things."
"Yes, I'm aware of that."
"Just because Stalin is gone doesn't mean the new guy isn't just as bad." America said, seeming to be calming down a bit. His voice reached back towards his normal volume as his eyes also slowed.
Feeling a great amount of awkwardness seeping through them, America placed his hands in his pant pockets nervously. After a few seconds of silence, he looked down from the darkening sky. "Uh—" he started with a pause, looking at the Brit. "You wanna go to a drive-in?" he asked with a grin, showcasing his childlike enthusiasm, gaining him the smallest of smiles in return.
"Sure."
"That was great, wasn't it?" America exclaimed as he entered his home. He made sure to switch on the lights in the dark living room before either of them tripped over some stray mess.
"It was quite entertaining." England answered, taking a quick stretch before sitting down on the couch. "But how many alien related movies have you had this year?" He asked, removing his shoes.
"Um—a lot?" Shrugged the American. "I'm surprised you liked it." He said, making his way towards the kitchen for a glass of water. "Want something?"
England shook his head alongside a wave of the hand, implying that he was fine. "I didn't." He spoke up, so to be heard in a different room. "I enjoyed the second film. I'm glad it was a double feature."
"I should have guessed." America released a tiny chuckle as he made his way back into the living room. In his hands he carried a large glass of what appeared to be plain water. "I still think you have a thing for Marilyn." He said with a louder laugh escaping his mouth.
"I do not have a thing." England started with a blush. "But I'll admit that she is quite an attractive young lady."
"Ha! Told you. You have a thing." The American teased, making his way towards his seat next to the Brit, who was still holding a reddish hue.
"It's okay, baby." Oh, how England wished America would quit insisting on calling him that. It wasn't only embarrassing it was—embarrassing. "I have a thing for Lu—oh no!" America exclaimed looking panicked before heading more towards slightly saddened, all while staring at the black screen of the television set.
"What is it?"
"We missed the only good thing to come out of Cuba." He answered solemnly, his distressed eyes still shooting towards the TV, willing it to turn on by itself.
"Cigars?" England replied with such monotone that it made it difficult to determine whether he was being serious or not. Either way, it left America with no other choice but to grin.
"Okay, the second only good thing to come out of Cuba." America paused, expecting another response from his European companion. Instead, he only received an empty stare and a couple of blinks. It was quite obvious that he was waiting for America to further explain, and the American no longer hesitated to continue and show his excitement for this topic. "Ricky!" He shouted, England's stare now heading towards confusion. "Ricardo!" He paused for dramatic effect. "I Love Lucy!"
"Oh!" England exclaimed finally understanding. "Of course."
America sighed, slouching further into the sofa. "Man, the baby episode was great." England's chest vibrated from the soft inaudible laugh. "That Ricky is one lucky guy." He slid further down, until his head was placed gently on the European's lap.
"Is he?" England played along.
America shifted his position, rotating into his back and pick up his legs onto the rest of the couch. His legs dangled a bit off the side, but this way he could lie down and be able to look up at the bushy browed man. "Yeah, he is." He said with a smile. "But you don't have to be jealous, you know." England sneered at this. "I'm pretty damn lucky too." And at this England shifted his green orbs away, appearing to be irritated and annoyed before releasing a quiet,
"Me too."
"Alfred!" The bushy browed man yelled as he searched throughout the oversized house. While shoving the last bit of licorice into his mouth in a way that he would normally deem inappropriate.
The European was on the search for the American that held many titles for him. He was a friend, ally, rival, ex-brother, and lover—God, how England hated that word.
"Alfred, I need to leave soon." The Englishman called out. His visit had lasted a surprising couple of months. It was an incredibly rare occurrence for them to be able to spend so much time together, but England's boss had been generous. He knew his country needed a break after all that has happened and all that will surely come. Yet, it was now time for him to go back across the Atlantic. His problem, however, was that America was nowhere to been found.
"I would highly appreciate it if you could come out of wherever it is you're hiding and help me." He said loudly, hoping to be heard from afar.
"Alfred, what on Earth are you doing?" He had finally found the younger nation, this he was happy about. What had him confused was the other nation's current location.
America would have continued to be hidden if it wasn't for the shuffling noise he was making when England stepped into the rather large kitchen. In the kitchen was a small dining table, only big enough to barely squeeze in four people. America kept this for when he dined alone or with just a few guests. The much grander table was settled nicely in a separate much larger dining room. There was nothing special about this cozy table, except that America happened to be under it.
"What does it look like I'm doing?" America replied from underneath the light brown table, sitting with his legs crisscrossed.
"Hiding under the table." England answered a matter of fact. "I was just hoping that there was something more to this." America rolled his eyes.
"Geez, Artie. I'm not hiding. I'm practicing." He started and just as the other man opened his mouth to ask about what exactly he meant by practice, America spoke up once more. "I have to be prepared incase that Russian commie bastard tries anything." He finished, poking his head out just a tad.
"And your method of being prepared is practicing to hide under the table?" England asked, lifting a heavy brow.
"Damn it, Arthur." America scoffed, tossing his head to the side. "I'm not hiding. I'm seeking shelter."
"Under the table?" the dumbfounded England asked shaking his head as he kneeled down to America's level. "Alfred, are you listening to yourself?" He asked worriedly. "Do you honestly believe that a slab of wood is going to save you from an H-bomb?"
"Well, it's better than nothing."
"It's as good as nothing." America didn't respond with words and the only gesture he performed was to cross his arms. "And I'm certain that you know fairly well what they are capable of."
"Yeah," Answered the blond American as he lifted up the glasses that had fallen to the tip of his nose. England sighed. "He's testing them now, you know?" America whispered, as if the Russian could possibly hear him from many miles away.
"And so are you." England kindly pointed out. "Must you all resort to—"
"Oh, don't you dare start to preach." America interrupted, bluntly pointing a finger. "You are in no way a peace keeper, Britannia."
England scowled deeply, exhaling a gruff breath of air. "Fair enough." He mumbled.
"Besides, you can't even pretend that you guys aren't coming up with the bombs too." America continued on, making his point, all while sticking his head out more and more from underneath his wooden hiding spot.
England opened and shut his mouth several times, words refusing to escape. "W—well, yes." He finally stuttered out. "But, what else do you expect us to do?" he said, moving over to rest on his knees, rather than just kneeling down. "Just stay behind and hope we don't get caught in the middle? We're still recovering; we can't afford to get hit again without anything to back us up. We know what it's like to be bombed, it was devastating. So, I don't even want to imagine what it would be like with an H bo—" England wasn't given the opportunity to finish his rant. He had been caught by surprise when he was grabbed and yanked under the "fallout shelter".
"Alfred, et me o!" England shouted in a struggle. It was difficult for him to speak while being smothered into the American's broad chest.
"I'll back you up, babe." America pronounced heroically while still removing England's air supply.
"Alfred, that's a very novel idea." England managed to get out as he lifted his head. "But before you can claim to want to save me, how about you stop killing me?" America blinked confusingly as he looked down to the person in his arms. England was still struggling to pull away and was actually making progress, which made America smile. "And…" England continued finally being freed from the American's grasp. "We both know how you're like when it comes to helping me, don't we?"
"Oooh—low blow, Artie." It was now America's turn to scowl at the insensitive comment. "You know I wanted to help you." He pouted.
"Oh, you did not." The Brit argued back and went on before anything else left the American's open mouth. "If I remember correctly, you didn't want to get yourself involved in another European war. One you had nothing to do with and—"
"Okay, okay, I was conflicted." he shouted, waving his hands in front of his face as a defense. "That doesn't mean I didn't want to help you. I did."
"That plainly means you didn't want to help."
"No, it's just-" he cleared his throat. "Well, I wanted to help. The boss did too but, my citizens. They were always so reluctant. So, of course, I felt some of that, too."
"So, that's why while I was out fighting trying to not get shot, you were at the beach getting a suntan?" England lowered his shoulders and narrowed his brows. Now, this definitely wasn't the first argument of its kind. Most of them had occurred during the war. England took great pleasure in pointing out just how late America had been. His poking fun was his way of numbing the fact that it really had hurt him. Also, England wasn't one to ask for help thus making his plead being rejected a grand blow to his pride.
"Um, yes?" America shrugged. "Hey, at least I did finally join."
"Not until Japan attacked you, I hardly think that counts."
"Of course it does!" America exclaimed with a look of deep concentration, searching for a way to support his claim. "The end justifies the means."
"That's a horrible thing to say in this case. "England frowned.
"But—" America frowned in returned. The entire conversation had taken a bizarre and unwanted turn. America didn't want to end it like this, not after it took them so long to be able to see each other. He didn't want to spend the last few moments arguing. Neither of them had any idea when the next time they would be able to see each other would be.
England sighed quietly, his face softening once seeing America's expression. He knew what America was thinking and frankly, he was right. "Listen, this is obviously getting us nowhere." He said; America eye's already beginning to shine once more. "Let's just leave it at that."
"Sounds good to me." America agreed, grabbing hold of one of England's hands.
"I have to leave soon." England announced again in a near whisper as he eyed their joined hands.
"Yeah." America responded just as silently before his face exploded into an even grander grin than before. "But, you know, Artie. You're always welcome back to my humble home." He winked.
"Humble?" The Brit questioned, the house was anything but that.
"Yup, and don't forget my shelter. You're always welcomed there. I have to keep you safe. It's a hero's duty."
England observed the American in front of him. He took in the shade of blond on his head, the energetic baby blue eyes, and the pearly white teeth. This was his last time to truly taken in the essence of America for quite some time. He wanted to remember it well, well enough to last him till next time. Taking one last quick look into the shiny blues, England finally opened his mouth and said, "It's still underneath the table."
"Oh, would you let that go!"
A/N:
1. Sweet rations officially ended in the UK on February 5, 1953 after 13 years. This is why you see England eating candy and chocolate throughout this chapter. I figured if you could finally eat all your favorite treats after years, you're going to eat it just because you can.
2. Korean War took place between June 25, 1950 to July 27, 1953, when an agreement to stop the fighting was signed.
3. President Franklin D. Roosevelt died on April 12, 1945, less than a month before VE-day on May 8, 1945. He is the only US president to have ever served more than 2 terms. He served 3 full terms and was in his fourth before his death. He was in office for more than 12 years.
3b. Roosevelt and Churchill were known to be very good friends. Churchill was upset after hearing of Roosevelt's death. "I felt as if I had been struck a physical blow." He had said. He also sent a message to First Lady Eleanor Roosevelt immediately after hearing the news stating, "I have lost a dear and cherished friendship which was forged in the fire of war. I trust you may find consolation in the magnitude of his work and the glory of his name."
4. On VE day in London, large crowds covered the city to celebrate. The king and queen celebrated alongside Churchill on the balcony of the palace while Princess Elizabeth (Now Queen Elizabeth II) and her sister Princess Margaret were allowed to wander through the crowd.
5. Yes, I am a believer that if personifications existed, Churchill would be supportive of England and America's relationship. So much that it would leave England uncomfortable, similar to a pushy parent. He did coin the phrase "special relationship" after all, and loved Americans. (His mother was American) He had wished to one day find a way for Americans and the British to have dual citizenships.
6. Mary of Teck was the queen consort of the UK, British Dominions, and Empress of India, and wife of King George V. She is Queen Elizabeth's grandmother. She passed away on March 24, 1953 at the age of 85.
6B."No, don't be. I'm sorry. She was really nice." "Yes, at times." There were some contradicting statements about her being both a kind caring mother and cruel and demanding.
7. After the death of Elizabeth's father, King George VI on February 6, 1952, she was proclaimed queen. Her coronation, however, did not take place until June 2, 1953. They believed it was inappropriate to have the coronation during the period of mourning. Her coronation was the first to ever be televised and the world's first major international event to be broadcasted. Across Britain people were able to watch the coronation live, while the England Electric Canberras flew film to Canada three times as the coronation proceeded, to allow them to watch it on the same day.
7B. There was military representation from different commonwealth countries that marched in the parade, including the Canadian Coronation Contingent. The Contingent comprised of members of the Canadian Forces and the Royal Canadian Mounted Police.
7C. Canadian soldiers serving in the Korean War used red, blue, and white colored smoke shells in order to acknowledge the coronation.
Churchill was knighted by Queen Elizabeth II on April 24, 1953.
8B. After his tern ended in 1945 it came as a shock when he lost for re-election. The main factor was people wanting peace after the war. They believed that Churchill though great at getting them through war was not the choice for leading them through peace. He didn't give up however, and was re-elected into office in 1951.
9. Converse shoes were big the 50's. High tops came first, late the low tops. Truthfully, I'm not completely sure when the low tops became available but, I see America really wanting to keep up with what's in. I really wanted America to go to a shoe store…No idea why…
10. The Cold War is in full swing and the US is in the middle of the second Red Scare. The Red Scare is a period when the US was experiencing a strong Anti-Communism. The Cold War took a turn in 1953 when both the US and Soviet Union had a leader switch. Dwight D. Eisenhower came in office and Joseph Stalin died, leaving Nikita Khruschev as the new leader. Khruchev actually started a de-Stalinization campaign while the US's defense budget quadrupled. American's were becoming increasingly paranoid, scared of a possible nuclear war.
11. Hydrogen bomb testing was done in the US in November 1952 while the Soviet Union started testing in August 1953. The UK of course not wanting to be left began its own nuclear program and started to test them as well. All the bombs testing going on by the US and the Soviet Union was alarming the UK government.
12. Duck and cover campaign. Duck and Cover was a short film created in 1951 and began to show in schools in 1952 in order to illustrate how to protect one's self in the event of a nuclear attack. People were instructed to duck and cover their heads with anything such as, newspaper. Kids in school were also taught to duck down underneath their desk, because wood is the strongest material in the world, beating out under the covers. It was obviously useless. It could help those farther away from the blast so not to get hit by falling debris, however.
12B. Now it is seen as Red Scare propaganda made to scare youngsters into being afraid of communist and the Soviet Union.
12C. I find England making a big deal of it in this chapter hilarious because even though this film is the only one of its kind, the UK made a somewhat similar film and given similar instructions in 1964.
13. "I love Lucy" was a very popular show in the 1950's and is still loved by millions today. The episode where Lucy gives birth to Little Ricky, "Lucy Goes to the Hospital", was first aired on January 19, 1953. It was watched by more people than any other program up to that time, beating out the ratings for Dwight Eisenhower's inauguration the following day on January 20, 1953.
14. "Marilyn" refers to Marilyn Monroe, An America actress, singer, model, and sex symbol of the time.