Thought I'd try a Hetalia fic as my first story. I had this for a while, and I was deleting excess stuff on my laptop due to sheer boredom. I had a friend edit this for me, because he is AMAZING! Anyway, I must get this said and done.

Disclaimer: THERE IS OOC-NESS! At least, in my eyes. Personified countries as well. I don't own Axis Powers Hetalia, and it's probably best I don't… :)

Now that's out of the way, here it is!

Shopping Trip

"You know, America, I've heard that even if you run your fastest, the automatic doors will slide open before you can crash into them," said Russia pleasantly. America looked at Russia. He was probably wondering if it was some 'commie' plot to get him to do something stupid. With my brother, though, you never knew. In fact, I'd bet…

"Canada?" America said quizzically. "You came with us?" Well duh, stupid, who do you think drove the car?, I thought. As much as I wanted to say this, instead I said, "Yes, America. I drove, remember?" No recognition flashed across his face, not even a spark. Figures.

"Whatever," America sighed, rolling his eyes. "Look, Canada, hold my jacket, I want to test out what Russia said. Here." After throwing me his jacket, America got into runner's position. He started off with a sprint, and… Smack!

Without meaning to, I started laughing, and pretty soon I was doubled over, trying to catch my breath after laughing so hard. I looked over at Russia, who was also laughing as hard as I was. This sent me into another laughing fit; that is, at least until I felt a shadow cast over me.

I glanced up to see a very mad America glowering down at Russia, looking ready to punch someone. That was quite a sobering sight, so I stopped laughing and headed instead the store. If I was right, this was going to end up in a fight, and I didn't want to be beat up in America's place again. The police could deal with them. Whoever is up there, though, please have mercy on the poor souls that have to break up their fight.

Luckily, I had the grocery list, which was pretty lengthy. After about an hour of shopping, I went to the checkout with two carts, one half filled with pasta ingredients. I felt bad for the poor checkout lady. The checkout took over fifteen minutes, and I was kind of reluctant to leave the store, as I was afraid of what I'd see when I got outside. I got as far as the exit doors when I saw a certain American rushing to the entrance. Because history repeats itself, America slammed into the door. Seriously, does he ever learn? His face was priceless, squished up against the glass. I tried not to laugh, rushing outside.

"Sorry about your brother, Canada, but it's funny to watch him trying the impossible," Russia chuckled as I walked outside. I gaped. Had he been doing this the entire time? "No," I muttered, "it's fine. Here, take the cart."

After loading the groceries into the car, I looked back at America, who was still trying to get through the door at a run… I should probably have told him it's impossible, but who was I to ruin his fun?