Urgh....got bored....then I went to the store, and a whole bunch of things started to add up....and this was born. XD

Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia. (keeping it simple XD)

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Bring, bring!

Bring, bring!

England glanced over at his house phone, a slight frown on his face. He'd been quietly enjoying his book and tea for the last hour or two, when the ringing had started up. He was fairly certain he knew who it was, too, and had no desire to answer it.

Ten minutes later, he did so anyway.

"What?" Arthur snapped as soon as he'd brought the phone to his ear.

"Oh, Iggy, thank God--"

"Don't call me that. Good-bye--"

"NO! Waitwaitwaitwaitwait, Iggy! Its an emergency!"

England sighed, rubbing his face with one hand. "Fine, America," he growled. "Give me your definition of an emergency."

"Mattie needs a new chesterfield!"

There was a long pause. "Does...he...?"

"Yeah! Apparently his bear scratched up his last one..."

"Yes, you...have to watch out for that..."

"So he asked me to come with him to get a new one!"

"Did he, now..."

"But, uh..."

"Yes...?"

"Can you...come with us...?"

Another pause. "I...don't see why not."

"Cool! I just have one question..."

England sighed. "And what would that be, America?"

"England....what the fuck is a chesterfield?"

"...No bloody clue.."

"Crap."

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Matthew picked Arthur up from the airport that Friday, and let him use the guest room to sleep off the jet-lag for the rest of the afternoon. After England had gone up stairs and conked out on the guest bed, Matthew had gone back downstairs to set his DVR to record Hockey Night on CBC the next day (he was afraid he might miss it, and that just couldn't happen. EVER.). Then, at around nine pm, Canada went to bed, still exited about Saturday.

All-in-all, Friday was fairly normal.

The next morning went something like this.

At three in the morning, England woke to find Ireland standing over his bed with a knife.

For a moment, he thought he was still asleep. Green eyes blinked slowly, staring up at the red-head. Actually, his brother seemed fairly surprised as well, though it was probably the fact that England had awoken that surprised him. After a moment, England cleared his throat.

"Er...Ire...land...?" he began.

Ireland blinked. "Yeah?"

"Why are you..." Arthur trailed off. There was a long silence, and Ireland lowered the knife, backing off.

"Oops. Must o' been sleepwalkin'," the red-head said mildly, and promptly walked out. England watched until he was out of sight. Blinked. Decided he needed to go back to bed.

Four am was uneventful.

Five am, Kumajirou woke up, rolled off Matthew's bed with a loud thump that nearly, nearly, woke the two nations. Didn't, though. The Bear then ambled downstairs to the kitchen and nosed the door to the fridge open, grabbing a bottle of soda in his jaws. The polar bear then made his way to the living room, climbing onto the armchair. He made himself comfortable before turning on the TV. The bear then popped the top off the glass bottle of coca-cola, and stared in awe at the other polar bear in the coca-cola commercial on the TV screen.

That was five am. No one was ever up at five am, so no one ever knew.

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At seven, Matthew was up making pancakes.

Upstairs, Arthur's eyes blinked open, and he yawned, stretching a bit. He'd had the strangest dream...but he wasn't going to think about that. Today was an important day, after all. Today, he and Alfred were going to go with Matthew to get a... er, a 'chesterfield'.

With the remembrance of this, England rolled out of bed and got ready for the day. He was pulling on his green sweater-vest when he walked into the kitchen. Hearing the footsteps, Canada turned around with a smile.

"Good morning, England!" he said cheerfully, though softly. "The weather looks like its going to be nice, eh?"

England blinked, and glanced over to the visible TV in the living room. For a brief moment, he wondered why Kumajirou was staring so intently at the screen, but brushed the thought away to glance at the weather report that was showing.

"Oh. Yes it looks like--"

The front door was suddenly thrown open, and both nations (plus the bear) jumped in surprise.

"HERE I COME TO SAVE THE DAY!!!" Alfred sang at the top of his lungs as he ran into the kitchen, skidding to a stop in front of Arthur. He blinked. "Iggy! You actually came!"

England scowled. "Of course I did, you git. And DON'T CALL ME THAT!"

Alfred seemed oblivious the Arthur's raised voice, and turned to face Canada, who was still staring at him.

"Mattie! Aren't my singing skills amazing?!" he asked, jumping a bit in his excitement.

Canada blinked slowly. "Why...were you singing the old 'Mighty Mouse' theme?"

England snorted, but, once again, America seemed oblivious. "Because I really am here to save the day! That's the theme song of a HERO!" he declared.

Matthew sighed. "Sit and eat your pancakes."

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Once they'd eaten, all three of them (plus the bear) piled into the car. Matthew, of course, was driving. This left the seats for England and America.

"SHOTGUN!!"

Never mind. That left Alfred sitting shotgun, and Arthur in the back with Kumajirou. Arthur sighed as he got strapped in, and Matthew started the car...also starting Alfred's mouth.

"Omigod! So, guess what happened last night!"

Matthew pulled out of the driveway, ignoring America, and England sighed. "What happened..."

"So, last night I was watching my scary movies, but I'd forgotten to invite anyone over--"

'You invited me, I just didn't come,' the other two nations thought.

"--So, like, it was just me and Tony!"

"Tony and I," England corrected.

"Actually...England, he was ri--" Canada began, but was silenced by a pair of angry eyebrows.

America flapped a hand at them. "Yeah, whatever! Anyway. So, the scary movies were really scary--"

"Hence the point of them being 'scary' movies..." Canada mumbled.

America glared at him. "Would you guys let me finish!?" he demanded.

England frowned. "Well, if you'd just get to the point, maybe we would!" he snapped back.

Alfred huffed slightly. "What I'm trying to tell you, is that I had a really weird dream! It was like, I woke up in the middle of the night, and there was some red-head standing over my bed with a knife!"

England froze. "You...what?"

"Yeah, I know! Weird, right? So, of course being the hero, I immediately jumped up with my fists raised, ready to do battle and yelled 'WHOA!'" At this, Alfred really did yell, making the other occupants of the car jump. Canada sighed immediately after. Alfred went on. "And he just kinda stared at me and said, 'Wrong one," and left!"

Arthur paled. "Did he...now...bugger..."

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"Are we there yet?"

"No."

"Are we there yet?"

"NO."

"Are we there ye--"

"My God! Will you shut up?!"

There was along pause, as Arthur glared at a blinking Alfred, and Matthew tried to ignore the two and keep his eyes on the road. This was rather hard to do, since the two were so...freaking...loud. Matthew's grip on the steering wheel tightened slightly, but loosened again after he'd held his breath and counted to ten.

For about five minutes, the three (plus the bear) were silent, and the scenery (no, not a whole bunch of snow and countryside) passed by peacefully. Of course, all good things must come to an end.

"Hey, can I play with the radio?" America quipped.

England's eyebrow (the left one) twitched. "I don't know," he growled. "Why don't you ask your brother?"

'Oh no...' Matthew thought, his grip tightening on the steering wheel again. 'Please, please don't involve me in this...' But it was too late, Alfred was already turning towards him in the seat.

"Hey Mattie!"

Canada tried to ignore him, keeping his eyes to the road. This was no use, as America simply thought Canada hadn't heard him.

"Hey Mattie. Mattie. Mattie. Mattie. Mattie. Mattie. Mattie. Ma--"

"What do you want, ho--" Matthew suddenly cut off, glancing at the back seat through the rear-view mirror. America snickered, and poor England had no clue what had just happened.

"What...is it, Alfred," Canada said again, carefully rephrasing his sentence.

America snickered again, but repeated his earlier question. "Can I play with the radio?"

Matthew sighed. There was no avoiding it, now. He might as well just say; "Fine."

Alfred gave a small 'Woo-hoo!', his fingers immediately going to the buttons, turning the radio on. There was another few minutes free of talking as America flipped through the radio channels, eyes narrowed in concentration. After a few more moments, the U.S. Seemed to find a station he liked, and sat back in his seat to enjoy.

"You spin my head right round, right round."

"When ya go down, when ya go down, down..."

Canada stared at the radio like it was one of England's scones. He didn't. Alfred didn't. He couldn't have...he did.

"What did you do to it?!" he squeaked, eyes wide. "That was a perfectly good song!"

Alfred grinned. "I Flo Rida'd it!" he said, looking quite proud.

Matthew looked horrified. "B-b-but its--! It was fine, before! Just fine! Dead or Alive sang it best! And then you had to go and do--" he motioned to the radio with one hand. "This! And...was what you said even grammatically correct?"

Arthur blinked. He really wasn't sure what the two were arguing about...or at least what Matthew was freaking out about. All he'd caught so far was Alfred's recent improper use of grammar, and that the bloody Yank had screwed up another song with a remake. Kumajirou, who'd been napping, couldn't care less and slept on.

America rolled his eyes. "Jeeze, Mattie. Why do you have to make such a big deal out of this stuff? You did the same thing when you found out Jessica Simpson had a remake of this song," he said, leaning back and resting his feet on the dashboard.

"Put your feet down," Matthew snapped (softly), and Alfred quickly did as he was told. "And I freaked out about that because she sounded like she was trying to...to..." he trailed off.

"Sex someone up?" Alfred finished, raising an eyebrow.

"Um..."

"Yeah, I noticed that, too."

England sighed. "Would someone please explain what is going on?"

"...Alfred, just change that channel."

"Jeeze, fine..." Click.

Arthur sighed, annoyed that he was being ignored. Kumajirou slept on.

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"We're here!"

This declaration, of course, made the occupants of the car jump, but it wasn't as bad as before. After all, Canada was finally pulling into the parking lot. Finally. Being stuck in the car with America for so long had actually been giving England cabin fever, and he was out of the car and shutting the door as soon the vehicle had come to a stop. America, who always seemed to have cabin fever unless he was on a football field, was out right after him. Matthew was a bit slower, and actually bother to pull Kumajirou out of the car, too.

The three then made their way through the parking lot ("Bloody--! He nearly hit me!" "Hey, Iggy, if you looked close, I think he was mouthing 'I'm sorry!' as he drove away!" "...Kumajirou, bite him.") with minimal damage, and somehow got through the doors.

As soon as they did, England and Canada both immediately wished they'd kicked Alfred out of the car halfway through the trip. America in a large store was not good. He was like a child, bouncing around to each of the things on display, needing to touch and comment on everything.

"America, don't touch tha---get back here!" Arthur yelled, making Alfred look back.

The younger nation rolled his eyes. "Yes, mother...oh, what's that!" he said, running off in one direction. The other two blonds sighed and followed him. They followed America all the way to the Men's section, and when they saw what he was so excited about, both of them gaped.

They were boxers, but they weren't just any boxers.

Oh, no.

These were boxers worthy of an American. Well...if not just any American, then at least Alfred F. Jones. The boxers were black, with over-lapping red and blue lines that formed some sort of picture, though you couldn't tell what the image was at first glance. They also came with their own 3-D glasses. For the boxers. Those red and blue over-lapping lines? That was a 3-D image. On a pair of boxers.

Alfred proudly held up a pair, and England face-palmed. Matthew held up both arms to form an 'X'.

"Denied."

Alfred's face fell. "But...please?"

Arthur shook his head. "Absolutely not."

Alfred pouted. "Please?"

Arthur scowled. "I already said no! And so did Maxwell--"

"I'm Matthew..."

"--Matthew!" England finished, glancing at Canada briefly.

The was a long pause, and a few shoppers stared at the three blonds as they passed, but quickly went about their business.

"...Wanna see how big my eyes can get?"

"America!!"

"Fine, fine!" Alfred grumbled, putting the boxers back where he'd found them.

Canada sighed in relief. "Well, now that that's cleared up, we can get back to what we were here for!"

America and England weren't paying attention. "Hey, where'd your bear go?" Alfred asked, glancing around.

His brother blinked. "Come to think of it...I haven't seen him since earlier, when that security guard tried to tell me 'pets' weren't allowed..."

England snorted. "Yes...he back off quite swiftly after you flashed those governmental papers," he added dryly.

Matthew nodded. "Of course! You don't mess with anyone brave enough to set foot in parliament!" he said, looking quite proud. England's only response was a blank stare. Canada sighed. "Never mind...that was kind of a inside joke..." he mumbled.

Arthur blinked. "Um...okay."

"I think I see him over there!" Alfred shouted, pointing in one direction, and ran off before the other two could say anything.

Arthur sighed, and Matthew groaned. "Here we go again..."

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After chasing America throughout the store on a long, unnecessary wild goose chase, the three nations finally found the bear in the furniture section. America grabbed the bear, swinging the startled animal around and shoving it in his brother's face.

"Ah-HA! Never fear, Mattie! The HERO has found your bear!" he exclaimed as Canada took hold of the poor animal. Arthur simply face-palmed. He felt like he'd been doing a lot of that, today.

The three then looked around them, blinking at their surroundings. Matthew's eyes suddenly lit up.

"Oh! This is the section we needed!" he exclaimed, looking down at the bear in his arms fondly. "You clever bear, Kumakumataro!"

Alfred and Arthur sweat-dropped, and Kumajirou looked up into a pair of soft violet eyes. "Who?" This comment was ignored, though Canada twitched slightly.

America froze. "Wait...a chesterfield...is a piece of furniture?" he asked slowly. England and America both stared intently at Canada, who blinked.

"Um...yes?" he replied, unsure of what his brothers meant. Slowly, he pointed to a couch that was on display. "Its...a type of sofa. Did you not...know that?"

The other two nations shook their heads, eyes wide. Matthew sighed. "And you came...anyway...just to see what it was..."

In the end, Canada was just happy they'd even bothered to come. Alfred was just glad a 'chesterfield' wasn't a type of gun. Arthur didn't know what to make of that day. He simply tried to forget it.

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Its finally done! :D I didn't think I'd get this done until tomorrow, but I guess I was wrong. XD

For those of you who don't know, yes a chesterfield is a very cool (in my opinion) kind of couch. Just the thought of it inspired me to write a fanfic....no, not really. XD Like I said earlier, it was a whole bunch of things that just started to add up.

The Mighty Mouse theme comes from my mom's ring-tone. O.o That theme plays every time I call her, lol.

I seriously did see boxers like that. I think I was at K-mart. O.o

Canadian parliament is scary! They throw things in there! Like...chairs and stuff. O.o

The whole thing with England calling Matthew 'Maxwell' actually comes from something that happens whenever my sister and I do a Hetalia roleplay. Arthur always gets poor Mattie's name wrong. XD Same thing goes for Ireland appearing over England's bed in the middle of the night with a knife. O.o We usually have that happen, too. Fun stuff, fun stuff. Lol XD

That's it! :3 Hope you all liked it. Press the pretty review button at the bottom to tell me if you did! :D