A/N: Okay, now I know that many of you are probably annoyed about there being a fem!England story, or a story with gender bent characters in general, so before I get flames and possibly some whining/bitching, I'm going to say this now:

No, I don't hate yaoi or yuri; in fact, I love reading yaoi, especially of the USUK variety (though I'm starting to prefer England as seme, believe it or not). I'm just more comfortable writing het, at least when sex is involved. (There will be yaoi pairings on the side, just no lemons featuring those couples.) In other words, get over it, and just let me write what I feel comfortable writing.

As for why it's England who's gender is bent; well, first of all, I don't think fem!England (or Igiko, or whatever her name is) gets enough love. I see plenty of fem!US (who I do plan to write one day), but not enough stories with fem!England, at least not those where she's paired with America. Then again, perhaps there are, and I've just been looking in the wrong places. Whatever.

Second of all, this story will require England to act somewhat feminine, as well as a bit of a shojo character (who will still be Tsundere, don't worry ;D), and since I don't want to be the typical yaoi fangirl and basically make England into a "chick with a dick" (aka an "uber" uke), I might as well just make him into a girl anyway, so I will feel better about myself.

Tl;dr If you don't like Nyotalia stories, then feel free not to read this.

Disclaimer: I don't own any characters from Hetalia.

Chapter 1:

Something small crawled into her bed, and then straddled her stomach. Then, after a few seconds, it started to bounce on her lightly.

"Come on Engwand," a painfully familiar voice cooed in her ear. "Wake up."

The ash-blonde woman moaned softly and turned her head, trying to curl more into her sheets without hurting the child on her.

"Hey," the child whined as he bounced some more (probably pouting too, if she knew him as well as she did). "Engwand, are you ignoring me?"

She smiled softly and tried her best not to laugh. Yes, she was most certainly aware that this was probably just a dream, a fantasy made up from her precious memories, but she didn't care. She wanted to cherish it while she could before her day started.

"Is the little lady awake yet?" Another voice spoke; this time it was unfamiliar, with a thick Southern twang that just confused her.

"I don't think so…" The child replied to the voice with confusion.

"Well, shoot—what're we gonna do now?"

"Damn it, just kick her or something!" A different voice said, sounding exaggeratingly irritated. This one was familiar to the girl's ears, but not in the positive way the child's was.

"Now, now, Revolutionary, we're not gonna have any of that behavior around a lady."

"Yeah, Engwand deserves her sleep, you dumbass jerk—"

That got her eyes to open wide as she gasped.

"America, who taught you such vulgar—?" England couldn't complete her sentence, the sight before her just pulled all logical thought out of her.

Because, right in front of her were three males who all stared back at her with blank expressions. One was the little boy, who looked about four, who still sat on her stomach, wearing his signature white night gown. On his left stood a teenage boy who scowled back at her, wearing an eighteenth century blue military uniform that caused her heart to clench; on the right of the child stood an older young man donned in his signature glasses, as well as leather clothing that looked like they were pulled out of an old Western film (complete with the brown cowboy hat, as well as the two gun holsters on either side of his hips), smiling back at her with a soft look in his eye. All three of them had sky blue eyes and blonde hair that had a cowlick that just never stayed down.

…What? She stared at the three of them with wide eyes, her heart pounding and her head becoming light. WHAT?

Now, just to clarify, there have been many moments that Elizabeth "Lizzie" Kirkland, a.k.a. the personification of the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland has asked herself how she got herself into the type of situations she's landed herself into…

But this…this just took the cake.

The America in his Revolutionary uniform smirked at his two counterparts smugly. "I told you guys she wouldn't take it well."

"Oh, shut yer gab, Rev," the cowboy version of America scowled. "She's just in shock, is all."

"Engwand, are you okay?" Little America asked her, his wide blue eyes full of worry.

As a response, Lizzie's eyes rolled to the back of her head, and she promptly fell back on her pillow, unconscious.

Elizabeth woke up to the sounds of sniffling, as well as the loud arguing of two males in her room. When she blinked open her eyes, she quickly noticed a much younger America still sitting on her, with his small hands on his face as he sobbed softly.

Feeling that old mother/sisterly instinct for a baby America, Elizabeth immediately sat up and cradled the child against her chest, running her hand gently through his hair. The young boy squeaked at the contact and he picked his head up to stare up at her with wide, teary eyes.

"What's the matter, love," she asked softly. "Did something happen?"

Little America smiled and sniffled, and then he wrapped his arms around her neck and smiled into her shoulder.

"Yay, you're awake, Iggy! I was worried that you were hurt or something," he cried out happily.

Despite the fact that he was calling her that dreaded nickname (Sometimes, Japan, I really don't like you…), Elizabeth found herself smiling softly as she hugged him back. She really missed this…

"…What do you mean, you're in charge?"

…Huh? Lizzie opened her eyes to see the other two Americas in front of her bed, glaring at each other as they argued with one another, and she stiffened.

"That's what Officer said, and what the sheriff says goes," the Cowboy version said sternly.

"Aw, come on! I should totally outrank the two of you, I came first," the Revolutionary version yelled back.

"Nu-uh, Chibimerica came first! And you don't see him complaining, now do ya…!"

"Please, the midget wouldn't complain if we were to leave him in the street; he's just that blind to reality."

That last comment caused Chibimerica to briefly let go of her as he turned around and glared at his older counterpart.

"I'd rather be a midget than a whining punk," he retorted.

Revolutionary's hair stood on end as his blue eyes lit up in fury, and he snarled, "What'd you say, you little brat?"

Chibimerica smirked in a way that caused Elizabeth to gape (I don't remember teaching him that…). "You heard me, Rev."

"Oh, that's it—"

However, before Revolutionary could take step forward—and before Cowboy could intervene and possibly instigate a more physical fight between the two of them—a sharp sound pierced the air:

Tweet!

Elizabeth blinked out of her reverie—she had gone into shock again—and directed her gaze toward her doorway, and, as her green eyes widened, her heart began to pound almost painfully.

Standing there in her door was a tall, muscular blonde man wearing an open dark navy bomber jacket that was littered with golden stars on his right arm, one gold badge on his left, and a gold star shaped badge that looked like it had been pinned on. Underneath, he was wearing a plain white business shirt, with a brown tie that had was clipped at the middle. His dark blue jeans, which aided in accentuating his muscular legs, were held up by a sleek black belt that had a leather holster on the left, and a pair of silver handcuffs hanging from a belt loop on his right, and tucked inside a pair of Timberlands. Tied around, and placed behind his neck was a leather hat that was slightly smaller than Cowboy!America's, but in a darker shade.

As he removed the silver whistle from his mouth, but still held it in his gloved hands, he stepped inside the room and regarded the three other Americas with an unyielding blue gaze that, even from behind the pair of wire frame glasses he wore, still managed to make him look more powerful and intimidating.

But what did it for Elizabeth was his voice:

"I thought I told y'all not to cause any ruckus while I was away," he spoke to his three counterparts—mostly glaring pointedly at Cowboy and Revolutionary—in a drawl that was undeniably native to Texas.

"Sorry, sir," Cowboy removed his hat and lowered his gaze guiltily, while Revolutionary crossed his arms with a snort and turned away. Surprisingly, Chibimerica seemed to be the only one who regarded the man positively, if his small grin was any indication.

Meanwhile, Lizzie stared at the man with her jaw dropped and her face bright red.

Oh my God. She put her hand over her thumping heart and swallowed harshly, trying to get back the moisture in her dry throat.

"A-Alfred…?" Lizzie spoke timidly, her old colony's human name slipping out in her disbelief.

The man glanced at her, and his frown changed into a small, gentle smile that made the Brit melt inside. (Not because it makes him look handsome enough for me to want to kiss him…or anything like that! Only because…because…blimey, I can't think of a good excuse…)

"That's Officer Jones to you, ma'am," he winked as he gave her a mock salute with two fingers, "At your service."

Oh. My. GOD!

Chibimerica looked up at her with concern. "Iggy, are you okay? You're all red…"

"…I'm fine," she squeaked, and then quickly tried to cover it with a cough and a smile. "I-it's just…hot in here, that's all."

As if to emphasize her point, Lizzie began to fan herself furiously, trying to look anywhere but at "Officer Jones"—who most certainly did not look delicious in his police garb (at least, that's what she told herself…).

Officer Jones observed her reaction with an amused glint in his eye, and he then looked back at Cowboy America.

"Go fix us something, would ya? I think Miss Kirkland and I need to have a little chat in order to clear up some things."

Cowboy America scowled slightly, his eyebrow quirking in suspicion—but the light sparkle in his eye indicated something different.

"A 'chat', huh?" He drawled.

Officer Jones rolled his eyes and pointed out the door with his thumb. "Just git goin'."

"Fine, whatever ya say, Sheriff." Cowboy placed his hat back on his head and grinned at the still scowling Revolutionary. "C'mon, boy; y're gonna help."

"What—? Hey!" Rev growled as he was pulled away by his collar.

Chibimerica eagerly bounced off the bed and ran to Officer Jones, beaming up at him in admiration.

"Can I help, too?" He asked, bouncing lightly on the balls of his feet.

"…Fine." The policeman smiled softly and kneeled down so he was more level with the child. "But don't make a mess, y'hear."

"Yes, sir!" Chibimerica flushed adorably as he saluted, and then he ran out of the room to join the others—

—Leaving Lizzie alone with the enigmatic Officer Jones.

She gulped and reluctantly directed her gaze at the man who looked so much like the America she had come to know; a more serious, disciplinary America that would probably make Russia uneasy with his out of character attitude. Seriously, he probably wouldn't have affected her so much if he actually acted like her America, but—

He returned her incredulous stare with a soft smile, and then he stepped forward to sit down in the chair by her bed.

"I'm guessin' ya got a lot of questions for me," he said gently.

…Oh, right. Lizzie's previous panic and confusion returned, but she quickly hid it behind a glare (or at least tried to).

"What the bloody hell is going on?" She demanded, her words spilling out without a second thought. "Why do you all look like America? Where did you come from? Is this some weird prank, or am I dreaming? Why do you all look like America—?"

A leather donned finger was quickly placed on her lips, silencing her immediately.

"Jeez, England," he chuckled. "Try to get a breath in, why don't ya?"

Lizzie blushed and pushed his hand away with a scowl, but did as he advised, taking deep breaths to calm herself.

"What is going on?" She asked again, feeling slightly calmer.

"See, now that's better," Officer Jones smiled, and he sat back in thought. "As for the answer, the best theory I can come up with is that, well—you summoned us, Lizzie."

Beat.

"…What."

"Okay, I know that look, but hear me out." As his smile widened, he put his hands up in defense. "See, this is what I figure happened: for years, Lizzie, you've been feeling lonely and rejected by the real America—and don't you look at me like that, you know I'm right (Lizzie blushed). As a result, you've been building up a subconscious image of America that is based on your memories, as well as wishes pertaining to America. Those subconscious images began to culminate as the years went on, until something—whether it's that magic crap you dabble in or whatever—caused these subconscious desires to be personified."

Lizzie blinked and shook her head slightly. "What?"

"Think about it, the guys and I represent a part of America you admire, and/or desire to see," Officer Jones began to explain, holding up three fingers.

"Chibimerica—the more obvious one—represents your nostalgia for the past, when you raised and loved America as your own.

"Revolutionary America—also obvious—represents your confusion and continuing insecurities concerning the reasoning behind the Revolutionary War.

"And Cowboy America represents your curiosity of how America lived out his life afterwards, as well as other emotions you could be suppressing…"

Elizabeth sat back against her pillows and hummed in thought. "I guess that makes sense, at least somewhat."

But, still, is that even possible? I'll have to ask the Fae to double-check….

Before she could contemplate it any further, Lizzie noticed that he was nearly out of the room, and another question immediately sprung to her mind.

"Wait!"

Officer Jones paused in the doorway and turned to look back at her.

"W-what do you represent?" She asked, blushing slightly.

He blinked for a beat, and then hummed thoughtfully. Then he scratched the back of his neck, looking slightly sheepish.

"That's a good question, actually," he mused out loud.

Then, after a pause, the man smirked slyly at Lizzie (In a way that did NOT make shivers go down my spine, just to let you know!), and then he shrugged nonchalantly:

"Perhaps you secretly have a thing for man in uniform."

As if England's face couldn't get any redder, another dark hued blush flowed up her neck, as she sputtered indignantly, in a way that definitely wasn't proper for a lady.

"Y-you git, why I've never—I mean, w-what—how dare you?"

Just as she picked up a pillow to throw at him, Officer Jones quickly winked and closed the door, allowing the mahogany wood to take the hit for him.

Huh, that's weird. While I was typing this, I planned for Cowboy!America to be the one to make England speechless...

Ah, well. Tell me what you think. Though I will not prohibit flames, please try to be constructive, at least.