A VERY BRITISH CHRISTMAS
CHAPTER 1
A/N: Merry Christmas everyone! I am taking a break from my other fic to write lots of Hetalia Christmas themed short stories. Please forgive any errors as I found all the traditional information on the internet which we all know is so very reliable :l. Please don't be offended by my portrayal of the American Christmas tradition, I just needed a way to start the story. I do not own Hetalia (…) but other than that: Enjoy! :3
As the nations dispersed from their infamous meeting, you could see spots of festivity decorating their clothes, moods and expressions. Even on the scowling anti-Christian countries you could see holly pinned to their shirts or festively coloured clothing items. Spain was commenting on how much more like a tomato Romano looked wearing all red; France was currently chasing England around the chairs with a branch of mistletoe; even Russia had a snowflake decorated ribbon wrapped around his 'magic cane'. But none of the nations were more excited than a certain American. America was wearing a full Father Christmas outfit complete with a beard and a massive sack. This sack was not full of gifts (even a hero doesn't give presents this early in December!) it was full of invitations to his absolutely unmissable Christmas party. They were true hero invites that popped up when you opened them, sprinkling glitter everywhere, while singing an awesome new Christmas song at full volume. This rather alarmed Canada who jumped into France's arms enabling England to finally get away from the pervy nation.
America approached the said Brit, who was rather flushed as he straightening his bow tie (a quirk even Doctor Who couldn't endear to America). "Hey, Iggy!" America called out while skipping the last two steps to confront his former mentor. The Brit groaned as he turned to meet the superpower "Ah, Alfred to what to I owe the pleasure? And I told you, my name is not 'Iggy' even Japan doesn't call me that and it's an abbreviation in language." The American stared blankly for a second, trying to comprehend the older nation's words "Right… Well anyway, I TOTALLY WANTED TO INVITE YOU TO MY ABSOLUTELY AMAZING CHRISTMAS PARTY WHICH IS GOING TO BE THE BESTEST OF ALL THE CHRISTMAS PARTIES I HAVE EVER THROWN COMBINED!" While the American flashed his most 'heroic' smile, it was England's turn to stare uncomprehendingly. "Ah, yes, your infamous Christmas party, well it is most regrettable that I will have to decline your invitation." America opened his eyes abruptly "What! Why? You have to come! If you don't come who will make my tree look super heroically tall by bringing a dwarf one? Who will make me look super cool by wearing a dumb-ass sweater?" And who will be proud of all of the effort and hard work I put in just to impress you? He finished silently in his head. "So sorry, old chap, but Christmas is for spending with your family and I have plans with mine." England replied, his eyes softening as he saw disappointment in his ex-colony's eyes. "But aren't I peart of you fa-" America caught himself as both nations flinched at the painful memory. "Well, anyway," England quickly continued "Your Christmas celebrations are so commercialised it almost feels blasphemous!" America looked confused "Wadya mean, Iggy? I have all the classics: Rudolf, snowmen, Santa, we even have inter-street "best house decorations" competitions!" The American smiled, oblivious to the incredulous look the Brit gave him "That's exactly what I mean! No matter how many Christmas parties of yours I go to I never see a nativity scene and never hear a single carol. Do you even give thanks to our Lords for the birth of Christ the saviour? Do you give not just presents but love to the people you hold dear? I plan on spending Christmas with my brothers and sister, having way too much turkey and wishing the weather will finally get it right and turn that blasted rain into snow!" An awkward silence followed this lecture. England looked embarrassedly at his shoes as he muttered "You could always come with me."
(P-A-G-E—B-R-E-A-K—B-L-E-H)
So it was decided that America would stay at the Kirkland household for the run up to Christmas. He insisted it was un-heroly to leave a dying old man alone in the festive season. But on the terms that America would be home in time to attend his party (which for some reason Japan and Canada were preparing). England asseverated that using time zone differences and magic they could teleport straight into the party after having Christmas dinner. America and England parted ways shortly so America could retrieve the necessary luggage from his house (it was convenient the meeting was held in America!) England insisted that America brought no festive items on his trip so he could be fully immersed in the British spirit. To which America objected to until England threatened his beloved Texas (A/N: his glasses if you didn't know).
"Well, Tony, I guess it's fare well for now, dude. Please look after everything while I'm gone. Don't let Mattie eat all the maple syrup and don't let Kiku watch porn on my internet. I would totally take you with me but England says you wouldn't get past passport control in London." The alien seemingly cussed in response but America seemed to understand it "Yeah, buddy, I'll miss you too." America replied tearfully as he departed.
America walked through the revolving doors to the airport, looking for were the grumpy Brit might be. He found out shortly after when he heard shouting coming from the coffee shop. "I know what you said but listen to me I know my tea and that is NOT tea. That is watered down coffee with milk, sugar and biscuits on the side! Oh I'M crazy, I can practically feel the caffeine rushing through my veins. If I get a heart attack now I'm suing this whole bloody company!" America quickly barged through the massive que of people to find a very angry Arthur shouting at a rather alarmed looking barista. He grabbed England around the waist, dragging him away "Sorry, dude, he's English." America explained as he hurried away.
"What's your problem, dude?" America chastised. "Horrible service. Is it too much to ask for an earl grey before a bloody exhausting journey? Honestly, that young man's manners was about as bad as yours!" America would have stayed angry but this was just so damn funny! "Come along, dear boy, the flight has been boarding for the past 15 minutes! Seriously, what took you so long?" With that England seized America's hand and dragged the teen across the overcrowded terminal.
(P-A-G-E—B-R-E-A-K—B-L-E-H)
The flight was uneventful. Arthur found the tea to his taste "See, the moment you get on British airways you get five star service." There were slight turbulences as they were in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean, at which point America turned slightly green, a very heroic shade of green mind you. England fell asleep watching Harry Potter and, as a result, ended up casting a floating spell in his sleep. The air hostess seemed rather distressed when she entered the cabin to find all of row 20-28 floating. Luckily, when she ran to call the other workers, America was able to wake England who instantly put an end to it. When the air hostess came back, everything was back to normal and the cabin crew decided it was time to change shifts. No passengers were awake and, the next day, the hostess decided she was dreaming. So did America as he was reluctant to accept the existence of magic. England decided against correcting him the next day when America re-capped his 'weird dream' as England was rather embarrassed at his slip up.
The pair encountered a bit of difficulty exiting the airport as America had somehow managed to bring a gun all the way from his house. Matters were not helped when the airport police asked why "The young man was in possession of a gun." And America replied that he had "Forgotten this ancient country had a no-go on guns, chill out dude!" England promptly declared that they should excuse his partner, he was American, and the teen was let of with just a warning. "What the bloody hell did you have a gun for? I thought you knew better than that!" England snapped as he dragged America across the overcrowded airport. "Hey, dude, calm down! I just brought it in case he were attacked on the plane so I could be the super cool hero and save you all!" England sighed, exasperated, but let the subject go.
England scoped the area near the door until he found a sign reading Mr A. . He then reared in that direction and confronted the tired looking man "Ah, good day, old chap. Sorry if it's an inconvenience but I have a friend with me. I will pay you for him in cash at our destination." A bored yet hospitable smile tugged at the man's features. "Not at all, the more the merrier!" he replied. The man yelped in surprised when America suddenly jumped in front of him "Morning, governor. Dreadful weather today. Let us depart to the taxis, pip pip!" America shouted in a very exaggerated "English" accent which sounded more Australian than anything else. "Please excuse him, he's American" England explained, he had a feeling that he may have to repeat the sentence frequently throughout these weeks. The taxi driver nodded silently and led the way through the doors to the taxi. "America, no one actually says that, you know, that was incredibly rude!" England huffed. The American just laughed and walked past.
The drive was very tiring for the two Brits but America seemed to enjoy it. He took absolute pleasure in pointing out the red tour busses, phone and post boxes, and famous land marks. "Woah, how weird is this? WE'RE DRIVING ON THE WRONG SIDE OF THE ROAD!" America commented enthusiastically. "Actually," England corrected "The Romans, who invented roads as we know them, drove on the left side or through the middle, which was rather problematic as you can imagine. The shift to the right side, in most of Europe, happened later on after the tragic demise of the Great Roman Empire." With the last words an intimidating aura surrounded the nation and he started kolkolkoling identical to Russia. America suddenly recalled something he heard about England's relationship with the old Empire and was forced to wonder if his ex-mentor had something to do with the Empire's disappearance. He shivered and the rest of the journey was travelled in relative silence.
Their destination was England's country side manor. England often stayed on the outskirts of London for convenience reasons but, for the festive season, he had decided to stay in the first location as it was much more peaceful and his favourite of all his manors. When they arrived, England tipped the driver generously, "Poor chap deserves it.", then helped America cart the luggage to the door. It had started to drizzle and the wind was getting aggressive so they hurried. "Right, America, you remember where your old guest room is, right? Well if you would like to unpack and refresh yourself you can come down when you're ready to eat, I'll start cooking." The American flinched and quickly declined "Actually all this travelling has made me exhausted and it's getting dark so I'll turn in for the day. See ya tomorrow!" Another close call with Iggy's cooking, America would have to find the local burger joints or face starvation. "Well if you insist. I don't expect you to be up early tomorrow, with the jet lag and all, but when everyone gets here it would be nice to set up the tree, I'm sure you wouldn't want to miss that! Good night America." "G'night." America grunted, he really was tired. He fumbled his way to the guest room he inhabits when here, one of its assets was it was the first door on the first floor therefore it wasn't far away. Once he had arrived, America flopped onto the bed, dropping his luggage on the floor. Now he was lying down America realised just how tired he actually was. He unconsciously drifted into a deep sleep in which he dreamt of brand new burgers and saving a poor damsel in distress (which looked disturbingly like England in a mini skirt).
(P-A-G-E—B-R-E-A-K—B-L-E-H)
America woke to the bitter smell of tobacco smoke. He rubbed sleep out of his eyes as he wondered where on Earth that would have come from. As the world came back into focus America was greeted by familiar emerald eyes, however, when his eyes rose slightly he saw a not-so-familiar nest of red hair. The unfamiliar figure removed his cigarette from his mouth "Who the feck are you?"
A/N: Oooh, can you guess who is in America's room? Well that was the first chapter, I hope you liked it. Please leave a comment giving your opinions, what your family is doing for Christmas or a country you think I should do a Christmas fic about (I might not be able to do them cus there are some countries my mum is making me do but it depends on homework). Byesies!