Quick note: The first lady is not Michelle Obama in this story, and Richard is the presidents name. So. Yeah. Enjoy~ :D?
000
This was strange- VERY strange.
A soft lullaby played gently through the White House, its soothing rhythm bringing about a relaxing air. It puzzled America; he knew for a fact that the president and first lady liked their music loud! Yet, this lullaby played gently still, effortlessly reverberating off the white walls. His eyes were wide behind his square rimmed glasses, searching for any sign of what was going on, but all around him, the halls, the foyer, the living room, were all barren save for the pink and white decorative ribbons tacked to the ceiling an walls.
He closed the door he had been too shocked to close earlier, and set a foot forward. The White House was dark, and it looked liked there had been a party going on that he had missed. He pouted at that, it wasn't his fault that he was off being a hero and his flight back home was delayed! Leather boots ascended the stairs layered with pink tissue paper and wrappers at a deathly slow pace- afraid that he had somehow warped into an alternate universe. The music played on, and he followed it.
The closer he got to the music the more he began to sweat, and the more he began to feel like he was in some bad horror movie where the first lady and president were murdered and the murderer was waiting for him with music to draw him out. He shivered. He wished Tony were here. He followed the music until it brought him to a dark hallway, with one lone room illuminated with light at the corners. Confetti crunched under his feet- he felt woozy. He placed a hand on the doors knob, unwilling to turn it just yet. His heart raced with rapid 'badump, badump,' sounds and for a moment he could hear no music- only his heart.
He willed himself forward, because the hero wasn't afraid of anything, and he was a hero, after all. The door didn't make a sound as he forced it open. Warm air flooded out of the room and into the frigid hallway. He gaped at the sight before him. No, the first lady and president weren't murdered and lying on the floor in a pool of blood, nor was there an insane murderer waiting there for him, no, what he saw was much worse.
"…first lady?" he gathered the courage to ask. The woman in question spared him a glance before breaking out into a smile. She placed a slim digit to her lips and blew out, signaling for him to be quiet. "Alfred, come here," she gently told him, he followed the order, his legs shaky. (though he didn't really know why) His breath caught in his throat when he looked into the small, pink crib the first lady had just been rocking. He was sure by now his face resembled that of a hippo, getting ready to take a big bite of the bird resting in his mouth. Before him lay one of the most beautiful babies he had ever seen, with silky thin red hair and porcelain colored skin.
He felt a hand on his shoulder and he all but jumped out of his skin. The first lady laughed gently, massaging circles on his shoulder with that one hand. "Do you want to hold her?" He tried to tell her 'no', that he was a klutz, that he would break it, but his pleas fell on deaf ears when she reached into the crib and pulled her out. She held the baby out to him, he was defenseless but to take her. The baby remained quiet in his arms, a smile forming on its sweet face, before it opened its eyes and ocean blue peered back at him. "I think she likes you," said the first lady when the little bundle of joy began to giggle and reached her tiny arms out to him.
America felt a laugh bubbling up in his throat at the sight, or rather lack of sight, when she pulled his glasses from his face and began nibbling on the edges with slimy gums. He really should have thought that was disgusting, but he couldn't help but to love the baby in his arms. "What's her name?" he asked the first lady as he set down in an arm chair and twiddled his fingers in front of her face. She grabbed this large finger with her other hand and giggled more. "she doesn't have one yet." America looked at her, stunned. "Huh?"
The first lady only laughed and smoothed a hand over her little ones face. "Richard and I decided it was best if you named her." The goofy nation felt pride well up in his chest. The smile on his face was unmistakable at his point. He looked down at the baby playing with is pointer finger with glee. "I know, little Alfred!" The first lady sent him a glare, he sweat dropped. "I was just kidding, geez," this time when he looked at the baby he pursed his lips in thought. He wanted the baby that he was to name to be strong, and smart, and…. Patriotic. "What about Belle?"
"Oh, you mean after the Disney Princess?"
America made a face caught somewhere between a pout and a frown. "No! After the Liberty Bell!" The room was silent save for the baby's giggles and for a moment he could of sworn the first lady was about to hit him up side the head the patriotic way. But she didn't, and after containing the angry twitch, she smiled at him and her baby. "That's a lovely name, Alfred," America smirked with pride and rubbed his face against the baby's in a loving gesture. "Do you like your new name, Belle?"
A happy giggle was his response. The little girl smiled up at him, making his heart squeeze. "I'll go call and tell them what to put on the birth certificate." Then the first lady left, leaving him and Belle alone. "Belle," he said again, testing out the name. the eyes of the once preoccupied baby returned to his at the sound of the name, making his smile even bigger. Belle may not of known it, or the first lady, but he could tell right then, that you were America's Girl.
000
:B Oh Alfred, you boob~ I love America, and this just came to me. I wrote it when I was having a writers block though, so I hope it doesn't suck too bad. It just seems like I cant string together any words as of late, bah…
Review~?