I love little Canada and America so badly ;n;

So here is a collection of oneshots I will be posting up. Fic is set to completed because regardless if I ever update or not again each piece is complete.

I don't own Hetalia.

Writing is crappy because I just fart these out when I'm bored.

Al pushed his glasses up on his stubby little nose, and placed his hands on his hips as he strutted into the family kitchen. Canada was out for groceries with papa France, and mama England was asleep so now was the perfect time to spring his plan into action!

Al pushed a chair towards the old fashioned wooden counter top, and clumsily he crawled onto the chair and reached for the cupboards where the cereal was. Al didn't really like cereal, he liked bacon and eggs for breakfast but he had a mission to do. He was a hero after all, to add to that, he was Canada's hero! Canada ate cereal every morning when papa France was out for work early and couldn't make him his pancakes.

His little fingers reached for a box of cheerio's, almost knocking them over from the cupboard. He stuck his tongue up and with a few prods and pokes he managed to tilt the box into his hand. He grasped it tightly, sending the bee on the cover glare as he hopped off the chair and into the living room. He set it down on the coffee table, which he had already prepared for beforehand for his heroic mission. To his side was a plastic butter knife(his trusty weapon), Pierre's old birdcage (the jailhouse) and of course a big plastic salad bowl (the safe house).

Al took the plastic bag full of cereal out of the box, and guarding the edge of the table with his hand he turned the bag upside down slowly, spilling all the cereal onto the coffee table. He sat down on an old battered plaid pillow in front of the mess. Out of his pocket he grabbed a large magnifying glass. He took each piece of cereal one by one, inspecting it with his magnifier, turning it on each side as if looking for clues. He knitted his eyebrows as he sent each cheerio an intimidating glare, putting the ones which seemed to have 'passed' his inspection into the salad bowl.

"I'll catch you."

Arthur's eyes flew open from his afternoon nap when he heard a dragging from the kitchen. He didn't have to ask, it was obvious to him that Alfred was getting himself into some mischief. He groaned and ran his fingers through his beheaded hair, rubbing his temples as he sat up. Seriously, that kid never let him rest, and he knew France wasn't here to deal with it for him because he had gone out with Canada, the better behaved of the two, to stock up the fridge. Arthur would have to go and see what the little brat was up to on his own.

Putting on his white bunny slippers and grabbing the cold tea off the nightstand he made his way to the kitchen lazily. Alfred wasn't to be seen but he had left his mark. Arthur gently closed the cupboard without a sound, noting that the cereal was missing. The chair has been pushed up against the counter but he decided to leave it. Arthur thought, if Al had been doing sometime naughty the sound of the chair being pushed back would startle him. That meant he would have to chase after him to give him his punishment. Rustling from the living room caught Arthur's ears, and creeping up like a sly fox he peeked around the corner to see what horrible deed was being done. His eyes widened as he stared at the site before him. The box of missing cereal was left empty and all the cereal was all over the coffee table, he felt his blood begin to boil at the mess.

Arthur opened his mouth, about to say something but his curiosity caught the better of him, what could Al possibly be doing with cereal? He watched Al make sure everything was in its place, and then he began looking over each cheerio one by one. Arthur stood there for a while, till five minutes had passed, and Al was on his 37th cheerio, he knew this because after each inspection Al would say out loud how many cheerio's he had inspected so far. Sipping his cold tea Arthur sighed lightly, but not loud enough for the mischievous blond to hear. Arthur had no idea what the 'mini-me' was doing and began to wonder if he should just leave him to his… child's play, as it wasn't anything harmful despite the mess on the coffee table itching at him. He debated in his head for a minute before slinking away back to bed; he was too tired to deal with discipline right now, and as long as Al was being kept quiet and not getting into bigger troubles he could get some rest.

Arthur rubbed his eyes again, it had been three hour now and he couldn't get back to sleep. He wondered when the French duo would return home, it had been awhile. He lied in bed there for the past three hours staring at the ceiling, making out pictures from the bumps, and even wondering why there were bumps on the ceiling, what the whole purpose was and whose idea was it. It had been awfully quiet now, Al hadn't made a sound and he still wondered what he was exactly doing. Arthur sat up again, maybe quite possibly Al had gotten into more trouble; after all, he's been too quiet for the past three hours. Arthur's eyes widened with realization, he must be doing something like finger painting the walls and he groaned face palming. Arthur couldn't imagine Al was still sitting there counting and inspecting cheerio's for three hours, he didn't have the time span for that. Hastily slipping on his slippers again he speed walked down into the living room.

The Englishman made his way in but stopped at the doorway when he saw Al. Al was still sitting there, by the coffee table, counting cheerio's, he put one into the salad bowl, dropping it.

"347"

He picked up another and inspected it before noticing him in the doorway. The detective puffed out his cheeks now and crossed his eyebrows harder, trying to make himself look like he wasn't moving an inch just in case Arthur wouldn't approve of his mission. He didn't want to move, he had to be a hero. Arthur noticed this, he opened his mouth, and then closing it again not quite sure what to say. Al was really into this game and Arthur found himself at a loss, what had gotten into the boy? Was he sick?

"Alfred" he said sternly, trying to get his attention. Alfred kept inspecting his cheerio, but he knew he was listening.

"What are you doing? I'm not angry but why are you… counting cheerio's?" Arthur was met with a brief silence as Al dropped another cheerio into the salad bowl.

"348" Al counted and grabbed another cheerio, examining it like a fossil again before he spoke.

"I'm not counting cheerio's. When you left for bed you forgot to turn off the TV and the lady on it was talking about a 'cereal killer' and Mattie likes cereal. I don't want the cereal killer to get him so I'm a detective and my mission is to catch the cereal killer before he gets to him!" the American exclaimed.

Arthur couldn't help but feel his heart go warm; he felt a smile creep up onto his face. Had Al really spent three hours inspecting cereal for a serial killer? Arthur as a parent, felt really proud of Al this moment, his love for his older brother meant that he had actually taught him something right.

"You had been doing this all day?" He had to confirm this for himself again, he could hardly believe it.

Al nodded "I'm Mattie's hero so I have to know he's gonna be safe, I don't like it when he cries."

And with that, Arthur left Al to keep interrogating his cheerio's, up until an hour later when France and Canada came home. Al had finished and handed his brother a salad bowl full of cheerio's, explaining to his confused brother that they were now safe to eat.

God the ending didn't turn out how I wanted it to but whatever.

Reviews make me happy if you like this at all :'C ! thank you~

PS. Sorry for double-uploading xD; I made an oopsie.