Fancy A Scone?

It was a warm, sunny afternoon with a clear blue sky, not a cloud in sight. Within a park was a young man sat on a wooden bench. He had blonde hair, nicely trimmed bangs hung low before his perfect green eyes and rather thick brows. He wore a plain white shirt, black jeans and boots.

Next to him on the bench was a small paper bag which had three scones and a thermos flask containing warm tea. He unscrewed the cup like lid and poured some of that warm brew in to the cup. And just as he raised it to his lips came a sudden yell;

"Hey, Britain!" Sadly the man's name was not Britain, but England.

"How many times do I have to tell you, America, it's England. Get it bloody right for once!" England exclaimed as America, a fine dark blonde haired man with the typical handsome man's blue eyes that were accompanied with moonspec glasses sitting upon the bridge of his nose, approached England.

America wore a pale blue shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. Black faded trousers at his legs and dark brown loathers.

"Whatever, dude, I only came outside to, ya' know, hang about. The rest are never any fun." America then sat down next to England yet close enough to the bag of scones. He peeked a look inside to see those trio of small British buns. A grimace feature formed upon his face.

"Those scones again, dude? What is it with you and those little buns?" America questioned rather sternly. England ignored him and continued another quick sip of his tea. "And I bet that is your beloved tea." America said as he then eyed the thermos flask that was now set next to the paper bag.

"America, have you ever tried a scone or even some tea?" England questioned. America was about to answer when England quickly raised a hand to America. "Wait! Don't answer, 'cos it's a no for all you stuff in that gob of yours is hamburgers."

America glared at England and simply fell silent. Sometimes he wasn't sure how to reply to England. And it wasn't... Oh yes! It was how England says some things at times.

"You're too odd, dude." America said as he raised his hands in defeat.

"As I was saying; fancy a bite of a scone? Sip of tea?" England offered the cup as he poured more tea from the thermos flask.

America slowly took hold of the cup. England gestured to the paper bag and there America reached in a hand and pulled out a scone.

"And don't you dare spit the tea back in the cup if you hate it!" England warned as America placed the cup to his lips and allowed the warm liquid in to his mouth.

"Mmph!" America exclaimed in a muffle. He quickly swallowed and gasped for air. "Hot! Hot! How can you stand it?!" America said in-between gasps as he fanned frantically at his tongue.

"Oh, come off it, wuss," England said as he took the cup off America, "But in conclusion, I must have an asbestos mouth." He then gulped down the rest of the tea from the cup. "By the way, did you like it besides the heat of it?" England asked as he poured himself some more from the flask.

"If I'm honest, yes. It was ok." England smiled and motioned to the scone that sat on America's lap. He sighed and picked up the small bun and raised it to his mouth and took a small bite.

England watched and awaited for America to give his verdict about the scone. America finally swallowed and looked at England. "You know what? It isn't not all that bad."

England smiled. "So, now you see what I mean by trying something before you judge it?"

"Yes, yes, dude. I get ya'." America then finished up the scone and dusted off the crumbs from his lap and shirt.

"So, how come you decided to hang around with me and not Italy, well, of course not Italy or... Japan maybe?" England asked.

"Well, like I said; they're no fun." America answered which made England chuckle.

"So, I assume you came to me," He said aloud as he picked out a scone from the bag and brought the said bun and cup full of tea to his mouth, "Just to mock me stereotypically and gain this fun you want."

"You're fun, buddy!" America chortled as he then gave a rather hard pat on England's back making the young man gulp his scone he hadn't managed to chew and the tea forced to be chugged. England dropped the scone and cup and began to gasp sharply as he clutched tightly at his throat. He was choking.

"Hey, you ok?" America asked.

England could not answer. Instead he rose to his feet and tried to hack up the blockage. It was no good and the poor man began to go red at the face.

"Britain!" America quickly got to his feet and wrapped his arms tightly around England's stomach and began to thrust with his hands. He did this again. Then again, and the final and in brilliant time for England had turned blue, hacked up the piece of scone.

America released England who dropped to his hands and knees. He inhaled loudly then suddenly collapsed on his side. England had blacked out.

"Britain? Buddy, are you ok?" America knelt down by England's side. As he did so he unknowingly set his hand on the saliva covered piece of scone. He groaned in disgust to the sickly feel of the soggy bread and wiped his hand on a blooming weed and flicked the bun away with the toes of his shoe.

America then focused on England and shook him gently at his shoulder. "Britain? Come on, buddy, wake up!" England, unfortunately, gave no response. "Damnit, England, wake up!" America exclaimed in frustration as he shook England more roughly.

This time to his relief England groaned softly as he stirred. His eyes blinked open and he shot up though remained on his hands and knees. England looked up at America who looked back at him with concern.

"What... happened?" England asked.

"You were choking, buddy, so I did that Heimlich thing on you."

England's eyes widened. 'He... hit me on the back when I was eating! Ok, getting angry won't help. He did save my life... which he also threatened by making me choke!' England thought to himself. He then slowly got up to his feet. America also rose up to his stature.

England inhaled sharply, snapped his head around to shoot America with a deathly glare.

"Why did ya' go pull a bloody stunt on me like that, ya' wanker?! You almost killed me! No wonder I friggin' passed out just then! What if I was dead, eh?!"

America began to cower to England's spitting outburst. "Dude, I didn't... Well, I give people abit of a hard hit but I didn't mean for you to choke!" America said in a shaky defence.

England glowered at America and finally sighed deeply.

"Whatever. Just don't do that again, you twit." England then sat back down on the bench and idly ran his fingers along his throat.

America picked up the cup and dusted off the dirt with his sleeve and poured abit more tea from the flask into the cup and offered the drink.

"It'll help your throat." England knew he was right. Any liquid would ease that soreness. England took hold of the cup and chugged down the tea.

"Thank you, America." He then screwed the lid back on the flask and out it away in the paper bag. "I'm going back home, now." England rose up and grabbed the paper bag and trudged along the dirt track.

"England, wait." America called out. England stopped in his tracks to then have America set a hand on his shoulder. "Look, let me make it up for you. I had actually hoped for us to hang out. So how about a get together with a few drinks? My treat, of course."

England looked at America and gave a small smile. "Ok, America. When and where?"

"I'll come pick you up tonight at 7 o'clock at your place."

England nodded and continued to make his way out of the park. America did also, however back to the only to be greeted by the cheerful young man Italy.

"Hey, America!" He exclaimed joyfully.

"Oh, hi, Italy." America replied back calmer than the young Italian. "What're you up to today?" He then asked.

"I'ma go find Germany! It is such a lovely day and no-one else will come out or hang with me, which is sad. But what're you doing?"

"I'm just going to go do what I normally do, 'lil dude." America said with a smirk and a wink. Italy nodded in glee and went off beaming.