I got this idea after rereading my Bitter Coffee and Sweet Tea I made and came up with another discovery...since in two weeks' time, it'll be International day where everyone dresses up as their nation's costume and we get to learn everyone!

Well, please enjoy this with pie in this 'shot called...

International Pie Day

IN THE middle of October, America is lying on the bed, reading a cookbook in his hands as he reads from his lamp that gave only a dim-colored hue to show the letters and pictures. America only paid more attention to the pictures. He wanted to make a pie for this year's Pie International Day and yet he hasn't prepared anything, he always does things the last-minute many times before.

America looks through page by page with a dull face, he feels as if he can't make up an idea for a pie.

I can't believe I didn't pick out a pie in the first place, America thought as he stares at a cheese pie. I was too busy making planes and eating hamburgers that I never knew it was October till a few days ago.

America flipped another page; he stares at a picture of an apple pie and...

"DUDE, I GOT A GREAT IDEA!" he shouts to himself. "I'LL MAKE THIS PIE AND I'LL WIN FOR SURE!"

America suddenly heard someone tapping from his window and he gets off his bed to see who it could be. When America opened the curtain and opens the window, he sees an upset Britain with hair bed-messy blond and bloodshot lime-green eyes. Britain is holding his black clock that shows it is now two in the morning.

"You git, do you know what time it is?" Britain asks, holding the clock in his hand. "It's two in the bloody morning and I was having such a lovely dream until you ruined it, you git."

America didn't like the fact that Britain is his neighbor nor that Britain will be doing nothing but trying to find ways to win and gloat at everyone for the next three weeks. Last time, Britain vowed that he is going to win this year's competition and he will make sure that it is going to be the best pie in the entire world.

"Dude, why are you complaining? I was just reading my cookbook and-"

"You-" Britain broke a small chuckle. "You have a...a cookbook?" And then Britain bursts out laughing.

America's eyebrow twitched "Just so you know, I happen to have a great idea and it'll totally make me win the first prize."

"Sure you do," Britain said, putting the clock away. "I'll be heading to bed, since I already have a pie that'll win, and not you."

Britain closed his window and curtain, America does so and gets himself downstairs to make his apple pie.

XxXxXxX

"There you are, America," Hungary, a long, brown-haired girl said with brimming green eyes."I was worried about you; it wouldn't be fun without seeing you lose this year."

"Ha, as if!" He scoffed, holding his apple pie he cooked up this morning. "My apple pie is gonna win this year, but what kind of pie did you make?" He asked, looking at her pie with curiousity.

America and Hungary are walking down the streets full of stalls that each represents different countries, many people are all around trying their pies and debating which pie is best through mumbling noisies.

"It's a special pie I made," Hungary said. "This has shepherd in it, with peppers and some sweet paprika. Would you like a taste?"

"Uh, I rather not, I'm allergic to paprika!" America stammered, smiling shyly as they make their way down the stalls.

Hungary looked sad. "That's too bad, but I guess I'll save the rest of the pie in my stall. I'll see you then. Good luck!" Hungary departs and waves to America as she gets down the streets.

America went over to his stall; at least California (his little sister) was nice enough to make his stall name on the top. It shows in all red capitals his name, it also has tiny stars representing all of his brothers and sister's puts his one only pie on the table, he wished he had more time to make some more, but it took a lot of effort to make the pie.

In the end, New York had to help him, and he isn't too glad that America ruined his beauty sleep.

America got into his stall, getting ready for the critics to come and taste his food.

"So, there you are," a familiar British voice said in front of him.

Britain smirks at America; America feels his eyebrow twitch all over again to show annoyance. He wanted to ask what he made and try to come up with a funny joke, but he didn't have the guts to actually ask but he might as well try, right?

"Hey, what kind of pie did you make?" America asks, his light blue eyes flashing with pride.

"I made a kidney pie," Britain said.

America almost screams and said, "You made a kidney pie? Who did you steal the kidney from?"

"I didn't steal anyone's kidney, you idiot!" Britain resorts, glaring furiously at him. "Obviously you don't know that my country makes the best pies in the world, and I will surely win this contest with flying colors." Britain prepares to walk away, but then he turned his head to him and said, "But..." he blush red slightly. "Do your best..." he muttered.

Britain walked away, and America wondered what Britain just said to him because he couldn't hear him too well.

XxXxXxX

How could Russia win the contest?

America almost dropped on his knees when they announced the winner of the contest, and Britain looked terribly white when his name wasn't heard for the other ranking lists. The day starts to grow orangey upon the horizon; all the stalls are being taken down after the long day of people lounging around their stalls to try their pies.

When America went to his stall to get his pie, he sees a young girl over by his stall wearing a long dark punk dress and a fan as she fans herself from the unbelievable heat. Then that was when the girl's lime-green eyes looked over to him and she pulls a lock of blond hair over her left ear when he realized who the girl is as she sternly stares at him.

"Hey London, what's up?" America greeted her with a wave.

"Have you seen my brother anywhere?" she asks, avoiding his polite greeting.

"Uh, no, I haven't."

"I see…" she sounds depressed but she closes her fan and said, "Can you find him? I don't have anyone to ride home with, and I rather die than to drive with bigger brother Scotland." She sounded so cruel when she said that, and this is about her bigger brother.

She curtsies to America and she takes her leave, not giving a sideways glance or even a proper response to say goodbye… But something struck America when he thought about Britain being missing all of a sudden after the contest. So, in the end, he ends up looking through each stall to find him and asking people if they had seen him.

He kept getting the same response of everyone shaking their heads for no, and this started to make America anxious as he looked through one of the back tents holding cargo. He opened one tent from behind Britain's stall to see if he is there but all he could see was just darkness and crates.

Sniff, sniff…

America stopped his feet from leaving the tent and looked back, this time going inside the tent to hear that sniffing noise again. He heard the same sniffing again, and then it came with a little sob escaping into his ears. He went into the tent further, hoping to find Britain inside so he could do something to ease the pain after losing to Russia, but what he doesn't know is what to say when he finds him inside.

In front of him, hugging himself, is Britain.

"Dude, are you...crying?"

Britain jerks his head up and looked at him, tear stains all over his cheeks and wide, lime-green eyes that filled with nothing but puddles of salty tears. He quickly rubs his eyes, and covers his agonized look with a confident smile.

"I didn't win this year," he said. "But next time I will, so you better be prepared, America." Britain gets himself up on his feet and starts to walk away, almost passing America when suddenly America stopped him by grabbing his shoulder.

"You can't leave now," America said. "You haven't tried my pie yet." America then sprints out of the tent, leaving Britain confused. And out of nowhere, America runs back into the tent and said with the pie in his hand, "Got it."

On the pie is a plastic white fork, America takes the fork, takes a piece of the half eaten apple pie with apple slices and cider juice and moves the piece of pie to Britain's mouth that remained closed. America could tell he is refusing to eat like a child, but he pokes Britain's lips with a few drops leaving on his lips. So, America takes the piece and puts it into his mouth as though he is going to eat it.

But out of nowhere, America pounces on top of Britain and binds both of his arms wide apart before he could even fight back. And then, with his mouth slightly opened, he forces his mouth into Britain's as she shoves the pie into his mouth. Britain muffled some noises, saliva escapes from both mouths and America's tongue shoving it in his mouth.

Eventually, Britain takes the pie and swallows it.

America takes his mouth out, grinning madly. "So, how does it taste?"

"I hate you," Britain said, looking away from him but almost blush red. "This pie is...g-g..."

America leans his head closer, he couldn't hear him. But then from behind, America heard the tent open and when they turn their heads over, they see London staring at them with disbelief as she slowly walks backwards out of the tent. When she left, Britain starts to yell at America for doing something so improper to him and demanded to be free.

America freed Britain, he pulls himself up and goes over to the tent but stops midway.

"It...was good," Britain said. "B-but don't get any ideas, I'll still win next year!"

Britain rushes off outside, leaving America on his knees...smiling.

The End

Hope to all that this story is good and will get lots of love from all you lovers in the world! I have to go now, I'm in the middle of Shingeki no Kyojin and it's getting really good. I recommend it!

Please enjoy this with your love.