Lunix: I don 't get around to writing many stories, but I have a few running through my head that I want to try to get onto paper. This is one of them. I… Hope you enjoy. Reviews are appreciated. On a second note, I should say it right now. I don't like how America is constantly portrayed as an idiot. When I write for Alfred/America, I will still try to remain true to his character, but he is not going to be a constant idiot.

Disclaimer: I, Lunix Renegade, Renegade Knight of the Lunar Realm, do not own Axis Powers Hetalia or any of the characters here in recognized save a few characters of my own creation.

TITLE: He Stole Much More than Gold

PAIRING: England/America

Alfred smirked as he snuck through the house. Arthur was out for the morning and Alfred was becoming quite bored with the lack of entertainment. There was only so much "BBC" he could bear to watch without going out of his mind… and after the 2nd straight hour of "Monty Python's Flying Circus", he was indeed starting to lose what was left of his sanity. Alfred couldn't think of anything more entertaining than to explore England's house. It was a long time since he was last there and he was curious as to what was new. As he reached the top of the rich colored stairs, he reached the dark hallway that led to bedrooms, a bathroom, and a few rooms that Arthur had stressed that he never was to enter unless under dire circumstances.

"Well", Alfred mused, "Losing my sanity is a dire circumstance, I would say.. It's not good for heroes to lose their sanity after all!". He grinned as he walked towards one rich, yet plain-looking mahogany door that he was forbidden to enter. Reaching a hand to the brass door-knob, he briefly wondered if this was such a good idea after all… but his curiosity won out in the end, and Alfred proceeded to enter the room.

On first glance, one would say the room was sparsely decorated. Second glance would say otherwise. The walls were cream with mahogany trim along the top and the bottom of the wall. The curtains were rich, red velvet. There was a double door mahogany wardrobe on the farthest wall of the room, and on the walls there were paintings everywhere. In the middle of the room, to the right of the doorway he stood in, was an ancient looking desk, covered in what looked like maps and a couple of photographs. A couple of charting tools were scattered on the desk as well. To the left of the doorway was a sofa table made of the same wood as everything else in the room. Resting on it was a golden telescope looking object, a compass, a couple of books, a beautiful looking quill, and in the middle of the table was an ornate saber on a display.

Alfred slowly walked into the room, unwittingly holding his breath. What was this place? He admired the saber for a moment before looking up at the painting hanging right above it. What he saw took his breath away completely. Before him was England… a painting of England… But it wasn't how he normally looked. Oh no…

The painting was of England in clothes one would normally see someone wear on a ship during a hard day's work. He was standing at the bow of the ship, one leg up, resting on a crate, staring through his telescope at the horizon of water. His white shirt was billowing in the wind, and his khaki colored pants seemed to form to his skin. His boots were knee high. He looked like a strong and brave pirate captain indeed. Alfred, resumed breathing after a few moments, smiling softly. So this was England. He went to turn around to look more around the room and every which where were paintings of former rulers of England. Boring… he turned to the wall with the door on it, and his jaw dropped to the floor, his eyes widening to the size of dinner plates.

Hanging before Alfred was a life size painting of England in full pirate regalia. The man looked so lifelike and real before him. The oils held that visage perfectly, and Alfred couldn't help but wonder… Before him was England in his red pirate outfit with the gold buttons and the black trim. His left hand was holding the saber he was looking at earlier, and the right hand looked prepared to draw the blade. Perched on his head was a large black pirate hat, decorated wonderfully… his hair was messy as always, and there were the ever present eyebrows… but under them… England's eyes held within their glassy green depths a mischievousness that Alfred had never seen from the older nation before. Alfred could almost swear that those eyes were following him as he moved closer to the painting… but that was silly. Paintings can't watch someone…. But what seemed to make the picture all the more real was the cocky smirk that was on England's face. It spoke volumes.

Alfred couldn't breathe as he stared up at England's painted face. As he moved into 'eyesight' of the painting, he swore he saw the painting's eyes begin to glow. Impossible… it had to be a trick of the light… but something he couldn't deny to himself. This side of England he had never seen before was something to be admired indeed. The dangerous… sexy pirate captain that England once was would forever be ingrained into his memory.

Vaguely, Alfred wondered if Arthur still had his pirate outfit, before suddenly remembering the wardrobe behind him that he had yet to look through. With one last glance at the painting, Alfred reluctantly looked away from that magnificent piece of art. He crossed the room and now stood before the wardrobe. Would those clothes still be in here?

Opening the door, he couldn't help but smile, for hanging inside the wardrobe was indeed the same rich red coat, the billowy white shirt and the pants… On the floor of the wardrobe were those knee high boots… and up on the top above the hangar bar was a place for hats, and indeed it was, the magnificent tri-corn hat was resting there.

He knew he shouldn't touch… he absolutely knew it.. but he just couldn't help it. He reached out to touch the coat… and at the same time, two things happened… one, England- the real one- burst through the door. "AMERICA! WHAT THE BLOODY HELL DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING?" Two, the portrait behind him... the eyes began to Glow brighter. The bright emerald/lime color brushed over the surprised America as he went to turn around, and in a bright flash of green, he disappeared.

England, in the doorway, covered his eyes to shield them from the flash. When he removed his hand, he noticed the absence of the stupid, lovable git he had raised. He let out a shaky breath. He glanced over at the portrait.

"What the bloody hell were you thinking?" growled Arthur at his portrait. The eyes seemed to narrow on the painting. Memories began to flood Arthur, and he blushed. "Bloody hell." He whispered as he turned to look at the small picture frame on his map table. It was obviously of Alfred… how did he not notice that before? "That… That git better keep himself safe. He better…" he sighed, glared up at his portrait, and stalked out of the room. He would wait for America's return… but first he needed a cup of tea…. Or perhaps some brandy. This was going to be a long wait.