England was concerned. America was acting strange. Well… stranger than usual. All through the current world meeting the younger country had been strangely subdued. It was obvious that he was upset about something, but usually this involved large amounts of loud, overly dramatic sighs that went on until someone finally grew irritated enough to ask what was wrong—if only to get him to spit it out so he would then shut up. Or shut up so far as America was apparently able.

Today, however, he was oddly quiet. The last time this had happened was the thirties… and that had sucked for everyone. Not to mention that the only known antidote for America's Depression had apparently been to get him involved in a bloody world war. So after the meeting England followed America out to the parking lot, catching him before he reached his annoyingly bumblebee-colored sports… thing.

"Hey, Britain." America looked up at the smaller country, seemingly unsurprised to see him standing across the car from him.

"Hello, America. Um… nice car." If you were blind. England tried not to frown at the window sticker he could see through the rear window, No really. It's a Transformer.

"Thanks." America didn't seem to notice how not-impressed England was by his vehicle. He did, however, look a little confused when after the compliment—or whatever—England still stood awkwardly across from him. "Um… did you need something?"

In that brief moment England went from mildly concerned to full-out worried. He had been expecting America to wax un-eloquently about his stupidly fantastic faux-robotic car. Something was seriously wrong, then, if America didn't brag about his most current toy.

"Well… I couldn't help but notice that you seemed to have been acting… well, not quite yourself, lately. Is anything wrong?" And please don't let it be another bloody Dust Bowl…

"Oh." America looked uncomfortable and his blue eyes seemed to flick towards every visible surface except England's face. He coughed. "Wrong? No… N-not really. Just—nothing."

England frowned. America, unwilling to bitch about his personal problems? Oh, God, he hoped it wasn't another Civil War. That was even worse than a Depression.

"America, what is it?" he asked, not bothering to keep the concern out of his voice. America looked up briefly and sighed heavily. England was thrown by the other's expression—he looked sad.

"It—it's stupid. This morning, when I woke up, I was super excited to see the new Transformers movie tomorrow. But then I remembered I was s'posed to go with… uh, someone. But we just… you know…" America leaned across the car as far as he could and whispered dramatically, "Broke up." He grimaced, looking embarrassed. "And, I guess, it sorta bummed me out. Not as over it as I thought, I guess."

America shrugged and managed an awkward chuckle.

England blinked. Well, that answer was… unexpected.

"Broke up? With whom?"

America looked startled. But then he coughed again and rearranged his features into a more subdued expression. His emotions must have been running deeper than he wanted to admit if he was trying so hard to keep them buried.

"Um… I just broke up. With…" America looked embarrassed again. "Japan?"

And that answer was even more unexpected.

"Japan?" England repeated—not quite believing it. America nodded and attempted a casual smile.

"But, ya know, it was amicable. I guess. I guess I'm just bummed cuz I'd feel like a total dork if I went to go see the movie now. You know—by myself. Which sucks. Cuz I really wanted. To go. You know. With… uh… Japan."

America went back to looking sad and England grimaced. He couldn't stand that stupid kicked-puppy look, even if it was just because of missing a bloody pointless aliens-invade-America (again) movie. It always made England feel guilty—even when he had nothing to do with it. Looking back on it, that look had let America get away with a lot of shit as a child… Including a bloody Revolutionary War. America liked to think he had "won", but really England had decided that fighting to keep him as his little brother was rather useless when it would probably only get them both critically injured. And he really had had a lot of trouble saying "no" to that damned charming little colony… Stupid America.

"Well, I suppose… I could go with you. To keep you company. If you would like." England hoped giving America what he wanted—a movie buddy—wasn't going to go to his head. Again. But he also hoped it was enough to wipe that stupid look off his face and get him to stop moping around.

America looked surprised. He sniffed loudly. Oh, bloody hell, if he started to cry…

"Y-you mean, you'd be my movie-bro?"

England was entirely certain that America had made that phrase up and was unsure what exactly it meant, but, "Why not? After all, I have never seen a… Transformers movie. It should be interesting—bloody hell, what is it?"

America looked like he had just had ice water splashed in his face. Or maybe like someone had squashed his hamburger—England remembered what that face looked like from first-hand experience. He still held to the fact that it had been an accident. Either way, he looked shocked enough to wet himself.

"You—you've never seen the Transformers movies? But you have to!" Suddenly America was grinning from ear to ear and he slapped the roof of his car. England couldn't help but wince, wondering if that was going to leave a dent or if this car was specially designed to resist America's… enthusiastic gestures. "I know! You'll come over tonight! We'll totally watch the first two movies. Pizza, beer—it'll be sweet! Say… eight? Perfect! Thanks, bro!"

Without another word, America ducked into his car. The engine roared to life at the turn of the key and England had to step back to keep his toes from being rolled over. He watched the car thunder away, no doubt with a bewildered look etched across his British face.

What… the bloody hell had just happened? And whose idea was it to make three movies about bloody space robots?

oOo

"Herro?"

"Hey, dude, it's America!"

Japan managed not to wince at the ridiculous volume coming at him from the opposite end of the phone line. Why was he always so loud?

"America." Japan hoped his greeting was noncommittal enough. The last thing he needed was the younger country talk-shouting at him for an hour about whatever he thought was "important" that day. Usually something to do with hamburgers or involving guns.

"So, hey, Japan. I got a favor, dude."

Now Japan did wince. English was supposed to be his native tongue, right? No wonder Britain was always so upset with him, butchering his own language in such a way.

"If Britain asks, you and I were totally dating. Kay?"

"Whrat?" Japan stared at the phone in appalled shock.

"But we broke up." America charged along, seemingly ignorant of Japan's uncomfortable silence. "It was amicable. Kay?"

"No!" Japan glared at the phone. Perhaps the strength of his gaze could make it across the line and slap America in the face. He did not dare be so forceful himself… and he should have known America was too oblivious to get it even if he had physically assaulted the larger country. Except for that one time… but that had been bad timing, really. "I rill no—"

"Otherwise I'm gonna have to tell everyone about the chibi-Russia underwear you have." America added nonchalantly.

"It ras amricable." Japan muttered before he hung up the phone as quickly as he dared.

America chuckled to himself as he hung up the now-dead line. World diplomat. Yup. Still got it.

oOoOoOo

Author's Note: I just had to point out—I actually really like the Transformers movies. I mean, space robots! It just seemed like something Britain would naturally hate.

Also, this story is based on an episode from season two's How I Met Your Mother. If you haven't' seen this show… you should. Cuz it's awesome. True story.