Title: Whenever, Wherever
Chapter: 1/?
Characters: Fem!America, Fem!Romano, Spain, Prussia, France, England, N. Italy, Germany, other countries.
Pairings: Spain/Fem!America, Prussia/Fem!Romano, France/England, Germany/Italy
Rating: T
Warnings: Language, sexual innuendo (this story does have France, Spain and Prussia in it), kissing in the future, possible historical innaccuracy, my limited knowledge of past and present politics.
A/N: I wrote this on a whim, really. For some reason the couple Spain/America really interests me, and I have a particular liking for Fem!America. Plus, I believe that in any world, America and Romano could be really good friends. (Or lovers, but that's a whole new pairing :)) This chapter is not heavy on the romance, but soon there will be a lot of one-sided crushing and later, plenty of kisses. For now, though, I have to get the plot (?) and characters set up. I do apologize for possible OOCness, but I firmly believe that Fem!America and Fem!Romano's personalities would differe a bit from their male selves. I apologize also for possible spelling and grammer mistakes, don't be afraid to point them out!

Monday, 2:00 pm

America rushed to the meeting room, pulling on her black kitten heels as she did so. She huffed, angry not only at herself, but also at the stupid officials that were making her late. No doubt the others were complaining already, even though she was only about… oh, like twenty minutes late.

Finally, the rest of her usual uniform was on and America was at the door to the G8 Meeting Room. The young country straightened her clothing one last time, patting blonde curls out of her face, before opening the door a crack, and wincing at the sudden silence beyond the doors. Then, she rushed in.

"Um, I'm really, really sorry I'm late," America said, attempting a smile at Germany's stern expression and avoiding England's livid green gaze entirely, "My government kind of held me up."

Germany's stiff features softened slightly in understanding, and the others relaxed as well. Except for England, but he didn't really count. America beamed and took her seat next to Japan, who gave her a small smile.

"What's happened so far?" She whispered to her friend.

"Not much. We were waiting for you and then most of everyone started to argue." Japan told her as politely as possible.

America rolled her amazingly heroic blue eyes and gave a little laugh, then turned her attention back to Sweden, who was giving them a rundown on his economy. France, who was sitting on her other side and next to England, nudged America in the ribs gently in order to get her attention.

"Angleterre is looking particularly annoyed today, is he not?" Francis whispered into her ear. America giggled under her breath, briefly meeting furious green eyes that glowed from underneath humongous eyebrows.

"Oh yes he does." She responded.

"Say, Franny," his nose wrinkled at the nickname, "Do you love Iggy?"

Francis glanced at her sharply, eyebrows furrowing his gorgeous face as disbelief fluttered over his expression. "What? You think I love the crazy sconehead over there? You must be mad."

America laughed quietly and rolled her eyes again, "I didn't say you loved him, Franny, I asked you if you did."

Francis put his nose in the air, "Well, if that's the case, then no, I don't." His mouth lifted at the corners after the clarification and he gave the young country a look. "Why? Do you feel the sudden passion of love flowing through your veins, my dear Amérique?"

America's cheeks flushed a little, and she refused to meet his gaze. "Of course not!" She exclaimed in a harsh whisper. "I was just wondering because Gilbert said that the only reason you and Iggy argue so much is because of sexual tension."

France pursed his perfect lips, but decided not to press her for the moment.

"Mon chéri, you should never listen to what Gilbert has to say about anything. If he could, he would convince the world that he, Hungary, and Austria were in a ménage à trois."

America giggled again at the thought of that, then glanced at the ridiculously awesome man in question. Prussia was sitting, doodling on a piece of paper while his eyes twitched around spastically, searching for something to do. When he caught her looking at him, eyes sparkling with leftover mirth, he winked and sent her a kiss. America made a catching motion with her hand and then smacked it to her cheek, winking back.

Gilbert's red eyes gleamed and suddenly he was scribbling down a sentence on the paper. He folded it up pointedly, before setting it on the table. Assuring himself that Germany, England and Switzerland were not looking, he flicked it towards her.

'This is the most boring meeting ever. My awesome self should not have to sit through it. What were you talking about with Francis?'

America picked up Japan's extra pencil, sending him a wide beam for his troubles. The other country smiled back weakly and fingered the pencil he still held.

'I know, right? As a heroine, I should be able to go out and defeat the forces of evil without being interrupted by stupid world meetings. We were talking about Iggy, actually. I mentioned what you said about their fights and he was quite… against it, really.'

She flicked the note back, although not before checking the room like he had. Mattie was staring at her with a confused gleam in his eye and she smiled at him. Her twin brother gave a small smile back, and then his eyes flicked to where Prussia was writing her a note in reply. America shrugged and the Canadian nation rolled his violet eyes.

'Oh, please. That's all denial. The looks they send each other scream sexual tension. And you know that France doesn't go halfway with these things. Also, have you noticed the weirdness that is this meeting?'

'Weirdness? What do you mean?'

'Belarus is sitting between Russia and Lithuania, something that hasn't been done since that one meeting when… things went wrong. Not to mention Romana is here too.'

At the mention of the fiery Italian, America glanced around the room and spotted her sitting next to Feliciano with her arms folded underneath her (rather ample, really) chest. Romana didn't notice her staring, which was good because the girl might take it the wrong way. It was odd, however, that she was at the meeting at all, because usually Romana simply sent Feli in her place and didn't bother to come.

'Wow that is kind of weird. I wonder why she bothered to come…'

Prussia was about to write back when Germany stood up, gathering the attention of everyone in the room. The large man cleared his throat, plainly ignoring the way Italy played with a loose string on his pants.

"It has come to my attention that it is about time for the 100 year ball," Germany started, ignoring the groan that rose around the room, "As you may or may not know, every 100 years since a very long time ago, there has been a ball held in honor of every nation. You must go. At this ball you are expected to wear nice clothing, as it is a black tie event. You may bring a date, as long as it is someone from your government or another country. Your boss and his family will also attend the ball. There will be excellent security, of course. The ball is in two Saturdays, and it begins at 6:00 pm. It is being held at an undisclosed location, but your bosses will tell you soon enough."

The grumbles around the room continued, but some countries seemed excited. America was excited herself, and gripped Japan's arm with a squeal. Japan tried to ignore the flare of pain that came from her strong fingers, and managed to smile at his friend while she bounced in her seat.

"Oh, Kiku," America shrieked gleefully, "This is going to be so much fun! Don't you think?"

Unable to deny the cute tilt of her head and the way wheat colored hair fell into sky blue eyes, Japan nodded and patted her arm gently. America beamed at him.

Germany, unfortunately, found himself incapable of gaining the countries' attention back, and sat down with a weary sigh, only to be met with Feliciano's ecstatically happy face.

"Ve, Ludwig," the Italian nation started, "We should go together!" Ludwig almost, almost choked on his own spit, but managed to control himself. Barely.

"I don't think that is a very good idea." He told his 'best friend' firmly. But this did not deter Feliciano, who promptly started jabbering on about ball plans, and would Ludwig like him to wear a dress?

Germany could tell this was going to be a really long two weeks.

America sighed from where she was sitting, dreaming about the wonderful dress she was going to wear. France was arguing with England next to her about nothing at all, and Japan was talking quietly with China about formal wear for the occasion. America frowned. Everyone sounded like they knew exactly how to dress, and to be honest, America really didn't. She had only been to one ball before, after all, in 1912, seeing as how the year previous she was immersed in war and the years before that she had been far too young.

America decided, then and there, that she would need help with dressing, refining her manners, and learning how to properly dance for the occasion, as the last ball had been nothing short of a disaster. Normally she would go to Iggy for something like this, or even Francis, but the problem with them was that they were… male. America figured that in order to be completely sure she was getting sound advice and wearing what she should be wearing; going to another woman would be for best.

The problem with the other countries was that there were very few women. Only Hungary, Liechtenstein, Romana, Belgium, Vietnam, Belarus, Ukraine, Seychelles, Monaco, Taiwan, America, and a few others were female out of the many countries that inhabited the earth. At the moment, America's options were limited to those at the meetings, which included Hungary, Liechtenstein, Romana, Belarus, Ukraine, Taiwan, and Vietnam. Belgium hadn't made the meeting, Wy was too small to come, Seychelles was obviously getting her information from France, and America wasn't sure where Monaco was.

Although she was on good terms with most of the female countries at the meetings, she was not close friends with any of them. Hungary was pleasant to her, but they had never really spoken on a more than a mildly friendly basis. Liechtenstein was sweet, but she was sweet to everyone and America wasn't sure Switzerland would even be okay with having his darling little sister talking to such a big, scary power like her. She and Belarus were on good terms, and on the occasion even had lunch together like real friends, but it appeared the other nation was rather enraptured with her brother at the moment, and America didn't want to impose on that. Ukraine was nice, but was immersed in keeping her sister from murdering the next person to touch Russia. Taiwan and Vietnam were also friendly with America, but the young nation still didn't feel comfortable around them enough to go shopping or share her ignorance. At one point in time, America and Vietnam had been extremely close, but that time was past. Sometimes, though, a pang of longing for the other girl would strike her and America would find herself calling the other. In times like that, the two would talk for hours like old friends, regardless of political the situation. But now was not that time, and Vietnam was laughing at something Hong Kong had said, so America decided to leave them alone for the moment.

That left Romana. America and Romana were, in truth, hardly acquainted with each other. North Italy was around more often, and Romana had the kind of personality that warded people away. Personally, that had never deterred America before, but she wasn't even sure the other country would want to talk to her.

The blonde girl gazed at the other nation as she glared at Spain's (endearing) antics and ignored the incessant pestering of Feliciano. In fact, America would say her expression came close to loneliness hidden by a mask of irritation.

On the upside, Romana was Italian, and therefore had a wonderful sense of fashion. Although they had never truly spoken, it was possible they had a lot in common, and nasty personality disorders never quelled America's desire for friendship (see: England). Besides, the older girl could potentially be very nice once her walls came down. Mattie had always said America was about 10 times less annoying once you wormed your way into her inner circle and, therefore, her calmer, more subdued moments.

Squaring slender shoulders that were packed beneath the thick leather of her jacket and the rough kaki of her uniform, America made her way to the other woman slowly but surely, arriving just on time to catch Romana before she left the room in a huff. Italy was distracted by Germany, who appeared his rather reluctant entertainer, and Spain was chatting with Prussia. America smiled at Romana as she caught the arm of the other nation. Romana raised a perfectly plucked brown eyebrow in response.

"What?" She asked sharply, though not too impolitely. After all, America hadn't pissed her off yet.

"Well, I was wondering…" America trailed off a bit, unsure about how to go with this. She hadn't exactly thought this through (Mattie and Iggy were always telling her to do that, one less violently than the other), and there was a chance that Romana would laugh at her…

"Well?" The other girl asked again, glaring a little.

"Um… wouldyougoshoppingwithme?" America blurted out in one go, still clinging to Romana's arm.

"Would I what?" Romana questioned, eyebrows crinkling in the middle. America took a deep breath. Time to get this over with.

"Would you go shopping with me? Please?" At the other nation's confused, if still angry look, she elaborated, "For this ball thing, I mean. See, I've only been to one before, and I'm pretty sure I did everything incorrectly. I don't want to do that again, but you've been to many and I know you can help me! Plus, you're super stylish!" America looked at her with glittering blue eyes.

Romana pursed her lips and appeared to contemplate it, even though the ego stroking had already convinced her to help the younger nation. That, and the fact that Romana had been planning to go shopping alone, which wasn't nearly as fun as going with someone else. Even if it was America.

Finally, she crossed her arms and nodded once. "We go tomorrow at 11:00 am sharp. Don't be late and meet me in the lobby of the hotel."

America beamed, white teeth gleaming in the bright light of the conference room, and she flung her arms around Romana's middle, pinning the Italian nation's arms to her side.

"Thank you!" She cried in excitement, and bounced a little while still holding the other girl. Romana roughly shoved her away, not that America took notice. With one last beam, the blonde girl took off in the other direction, attaching herself to a blond male who seemed to have appeared out of nowhere. Really, Romana had no idea who he was. Looked an awful lot like America, though.

Then, with one last glance at her younger brother, Romana left the room, already dreading what would come the next day.

"Mattie!" America squealed, wrapping her arms around her twin brother's neck as she forced him to give her a piggyback ride. Canada slumped a little under her sudden weight, but nevertheless hooked his arms under her thighs and hoisted her up.

"Yes?" He asked in a weary, yet amused, tone.

"Tomorrow I'm going shopping for a dress with someone!" His sister exclaimed happily, nuzzling her face into his neck.

Matthew ignored the feeling of her nose rubbing down his jugular, and questioned, "Who?" As far as he knew, America had never gone shopping with anyone before. His sister was not prone to do girlish things.

"Romana, you know, South Italy. I did it on a whim, really," America babbled as she tightened her hold on him and straightened her back a little, "But she said yes, so I was happy."

"Romana?" Matthew asked, surprised because he hadn't been aware that America and the other half of Italy were on such good terms. "Well, that's good I suppose. Have fun." He smiled at her by turning his head a little in order to catch her gaze.

"Oh, don't worry, I'm sure it'll be tons of fun, Mattie." America said. She hopped down from his back and grabbed his cold hand in one of her warm ones.

"Yeah, Al, I'm sure. That reminds me, though; I should really get my suit dry-cleaned." He said as an afterthought, following his sister out of the room, their hands still attached.

"You should buy a new one! It is a special occasion, and who's to say that old thing will still fit you, anyway? Actually, you know what, I'll buy you one. Don't worry about it." Al said firmly, tightening her grip around her brother's hand.

"Al," Matthew started weakly, "Your economy…" He trailed off at the sharp tug of her hand on his.

Her blue eyes turned to his violet ones, and they were glaring fiercely, "It'll be from my own private stores, Mattie, so don't worry about it." Once again, her voice was resolute and her grip offered no relief.

Then, with a 'heroine's grin' America spun and raised a fist to the air, "No worries because Alianora F. Jones has everything under control!" She shouted, rather loudly, to the world. Mattie resisted the urge to facepalm if only because one of his hands was still captured in hers (the one that she had raised, actually, putting him in a rather awkward position) and the other was waving about in an attempt to keep his balance.

Tuesday, 10:30 am

Al rushed around the hotel room she was sharing with Mattie, fresh faced from having just taken a shower and ready for a day of shopping with Romana. Her stomach, luckily, was full with pancakes coated in maple syrup from Mattie and delicious bacon she had cooked herself.

The world meeting this year was being held in Dublin, Ireland. America had hopped on a jet as soon as the government was done talking with her the previous day, wearing comfortable clothes for the long plane ride. She had fallen asleep and therefore forgotten to change into the required uniform for the meetings, ending in her fumbling to put it on with all the silly buttons and patches. At least she could be comfortable in her jacket.

Today, though, America had set her alarm for nine so she could sleep until 9:30, then have breakfast and take a shower before leaving for the lobby. She had a feeling Romana would leave without her if she was even a minute late, and the blonde nation did not want that.

As she was leaving, at exactly 10:55, Al gave Mattie a kiss on the cheek and three thousand dollars in cash for his suit. His sweet, cute, adorable little face paled at the sight of so much money, but Al pointedly refused to take any back until she saw him in his dashing suit.

While in the elevator, America briefly panicked, wondering if she should have worn makeup, but in the end vetoed the idea entirely. She had never worn it excessively before, usually saving it for special occasions, and what was the point in starting now? The doors opened at 10:57 and Al saw Romana in the lobby, lips pursed and wearing casual clothing.

Bouncing over to her new friend, America gave the other girl a bright smile. Romana nodded with approval at her timing.

"Let's get going."

And so they did, walking the pretty streets of Dublin on a surprisingly sunny day, and holding a comfortable silence. America, predictably, broke the silence first.

"I wanted to thank you for agreeing, Romana. I know we don't know each other that well, but…" She trailed off and bit her lip, looking shyly over to where the slightly taller nation (it might have just been the beautiful high heels Romana was wearing) was walking.

Features sharpening into a familiar glare, the Italian sent her a look, but it softened at the unnaturally hushed demeanor of the other. "You're welcome, I guess," Romana said, looking away as red colored her cheeks, "But I don't understand why you asked me, weirdo."

America's featured brightened, and she completely disregarded the insulting nickname. Romana was famous for them, after all. In fact, she called many people much more insulting things than 'weirdo.' Germany was dubbed 'potato bastard,' Feliciano was often 'idiot,' and 'bitch' was reserved for female or male countries who really pissed her off. Vaffanculo was also often heard spouting out of her mouth, or other Italian insults.

"You're Italian," Al offered, "So you must have great style. And besides, I don't know you that well. But I'd like to."

Romana stiffened at the kind words, thinking. It was not often that other countries wanted to be her friend. If it was a necessary political union, they would often just go to Feliciano, who would, in turn, appeal to her. Women like Hungary or Ukraine were far too different from her to gather much attention, and male countries either thought she was a bitch or pissed her off. America, though, while having never openly expressed a wish for friendship, had always been quite amiable, as she was with most everyone. Romana always figured that her nasty temper kept the superpower from paying too strict attention to the likes of her, being that she was only really half a country anyways.

But, it seemed that the other only really needed a reason to begin talking to someone, to begin the slow steps that lead to a trusted friendship. Because they lived for so long, relationships of any kind between two countries lasted either a lifetime or an era before they were marred by war, death, political issues, or other. Even families, Romana reflected, were split by the cruel hands of time. America knew that all too well.

"I guess I'd like to, also." Romana finally responded. America's steps immediately lightened into skips out of delight.

"In that case," the superpower said, her eyes sparkling brilliantly in sun, "You can call me Al. My full name is Alianora F. Jones, but Al is just fine. What's your name, Romana?"

Romana stared for a moment, taken aback by the other nation's sudden explosion of friendliness. Calling her Al? Giving out her human name? It was something you did with someone you were really close with. To be perfectly honest, though, Romana didn't even care. It was nice to have a friend.

"Lovina Vargas." She said shortly, trying to suppress the blush that threatened to stain her cheeks. Lovina had always blushed easily; far too easily for her tastes, and it was something that made Antonio teased her about every day. But for now it was okay, because she had a feeling Al had several embarrassing traits herself to make up for Lovina's own discomfiture.


ends at kind of an awkward place, but I'm quite happy with it. Also, I chose 'Alianora' for America's name because a) it gives me access to the nickname Al, and b) it is a form of Eleanor, which is old-fashioned (and therefore sounds like something England would name her) and is also quite American, in a sense (Eleanor Roosevelt).