This came outta nowhere, just came together like magic.

I'm not entirely happy with it but it's a now or next year kinda thing. I'll probably fix this up when I get time. If it's in any way worth continuing please comment and let me know.

My problem is I always get good ideas after midnight, please appreciate that most of this was done with the aid of chocolate cake and insomnia.

Disclaimer: Regrettably Hetalia is not mine but I can dream.

...

*Update*

I now have an editor for this story, lets hear it for the wonderful auburn-haired-sadist-XD

The night was like any other: quiet.

An unnatural silence, where life itself seemed to have baited breath.

Arthur Kirkland strode down the centre of the cobblestone streets, glancing up at lightless windows now and then. People knew better than to be out after dark- at least, the survivors did.

The blond haired Brit wore thin black trousers that tucked conveniently into laced up boots. His cotton white shirt fluttering slightly in the cool breeze. A black velvet vest covering the white in all the right places.

This was his third night; the other two had ended in abrupt failure. And to the Brit's conscience, another death.
Tonight would be different, the loud voices now piercing the silence beckoning him onward.

High upon a church roof two blondes laughed loudly, their voices far too alluring to be considered anything remotely human.

One had short dusty blond hair, that stuck out at certain angles; the other shoulder length golden locks, which were loosely pulled back by a black ribbon. Each had eyes cold as ice, the blueness shaming even the ocean's greatest depths.

Low on the ground Arthur glared upwards, his sun kissed bangs swaying rhythmically. Quickly catching his breath the Brit rested on his knees for a moment. He had run a considerable distance in a short space of time. Every second counted.

His emerald eyes glimmered softly in the timid light, everything on ground level laying in a blanket of shadow. Squinting, he could vaguely make out two figures perched high above him, both loud enough to wake the dead.

"Bloody vampires." Willing himself forward Arthur entered the grand church, delighted at the thought of endless stairs. Even with such a bold continuous effort he knew that, chances were, the moment he confronted them they'd flip him off and dive into the sky with ease. Being human meant playing catch up an awful lot.

Scuffing his hand against the solid stone Arthur held his breath; the door was in sight. With his other hand the Brit dug around in his side satchel, quickly pulling out both a short sword and a rather ragged looking wooden stake.

Steadying his resolve he kicked the door open, rushing out into a defensible position.

"I have you now!"

The air went silent as the two vampires turned, their appearances more sensual than even their voices. Perfect hair, skin and simply flawless bodies. It hardly seemed fair to be human in retrospect.

"Hey dude, you made it!" Grinning widely the one with a distinct American accent laughed. "See Francis, I told ya shorty would follow us!"

Arthur edged his way from the darkness into the moonlight, his eyes narrow and mistrusting.
"My name is Arthur Kirkland, you can take it to hell."

"Oh ho ho, how serious, I bet your blood tastes wonderful. Braves ones always taste better." A confident smirk lighting over his features, Francis flicked back a stray, slightly curled lock.

Arthur could tell from his accent, the second one was French and very obviously so. A strange pair to be sure but vampires were creatures of little sense and no morals. Trying to find logic or reason with them was just a great waste of time.

"Aww, don't be mad! Here, come sit with us, the view's great!"

Arthur glanced unsurely at the American, who despite being a monster seemed rather genuine. His leather gloved hand patting a free spot between the two convincingly.

The French one seemed to thrive on the idea scooting back as if allowing the hunter to feel safer to sit. It was a challenge and Arthur was all to aware of his limited options. It was fact, there was no good way to fight vampires.

"Tell you what, if you sit down, neither of us will attack you."

Emerald eyes questioned American ones. "And if I don't?"

"We probably will, any moment now." Smirking widely the American placed one hand against the stone once more. The look in his eyes speaking volumes.

The words were so threatening yet spoken so lightly the Brit was thrown off. Copying the smirk on the American's face, Arthur shrugged to himself before pacing forward and sitting heavily between the two.
It was no surprise as both vampires fixated openly on his neck. Resisting the urge to scold them for being obvious, Arthur decided against it, instead letting his legs dangle over the side like a child would.

"So tell me, which way would you like to die?"

Both Francis and Alfred smirked at the question, the words holding no sense of fear or irony what so ever.
"You have two choices." Holding both his hands up Arthur offered, "stabbing or staking?"

"Ha ha dude, you're so hilarious and totally violent. You're not even shaking!" The American vampire smiled, his cold eyes glinting in the pale light, tinted with amusement.

"I'm sure it takes away most of the thrill for you."

"A little but I'm really starting to like you."

"How nice." Arthur glanced away maneuvering the stake in his right hand tentatively. Any sudden movements would be a poor lack of judgment on his part. Vampires were superior in strength and speed, he knew it and they knew it. To expect anything less of them was fatal.

Leaning in a little too close Francis smirked. "Your silence is amusing. Regretting your choice of activities tonight?"
Leaning back and straightening himself upwards the blond Brit shook his head.

"No, I'm thinking, much like you are, about what to do. Though my thoughts are not consumed with feeding and murdering the innocent."

"How harsh, tell me hunter," bringing his pale hand up Francis almost touched warm skin. "What am I thinking?"

His face turning sour at the thought Arthur tried to push the images in his head aside. He knew from experience that no vampire, now or ever thought about good things. Apparently bunnies and rainbows weren't popular with them.

"Hmmm, it's hard to pick just one. I'd say your probably thinking of pouncing on me and sharing me with your buddy, killing me horribly. And him-" gesturing to his right Arthur continued- "he probably doesn't think much at all."

As Alfred took offence Francis stifled a blunt laugh. Quickly regaining his posture he leaned in, causing the stake holder to shift further off the edge.
"And now, what am I thinking now amour?"

"Shoving me off," Arthur said flatly, tightening and loosening his grip on his weapons by habit. Frowning placidly he questioned, "am I wrong?"

"Not completely mon amie."

Hearing movement from his right, Arthur swiftly turned in time to catch the American moving towards him. "It would be awesome to throw you off, you'd be totally flat in no time!"

At that moment a piercing noise rang out across the lightening night sky. Changing both vampires intentions in a moment.

"Alas, we must take our leave." Kicking off into the air Francis frowned. "Come on Alfred."

As the American floated backwards he waved casually, winking at the Brit. Arthur couldn't help but notice their fangs as they hovered above him; up until now they had been hard to see.

"Don't go away okay?"

Glaring at the American stupidly Arthur flung himself forward, his body half off the edge. Clicking his tongue Alfred shook his head disapprovingly. In one gloved hand he held a stake away from his heart, in the other a rather displeased Brit.

"Well that was rude!" Alfred chided sarcastically, showing his ivory fangs bordly.
Francis merely offered an appreciative look, his eyes flickering towards the skyline for a moment.
Arthur hissed, wriggling his body in hopes of getting a successful staking. If he was going to die he'd at least like to take one git with him.

"Bastard!"

Chuckling the American pulled back slightly, making Arthur fall forwards more in his already awkward position. His feet tilted at the edge of the roof, the rest of him very much exposed in the cool air. It was one of those situations were he couldn't move himself back but going forward was in no way an option. So instead he settled for glaring, his fingers twitching in defiance despite yearning to grip.

It came as a huge surprise to the Brit when he was pushed backwards onto the ledge, landing with a thump. It wasn't gentle, he might have fallen on his ass but he was still alive.

Looking up for answers Arthur spat, "what the hell?"
His deep green eyes widened; they were gone. Like they had never existed at all.

"Dammit!"

...

"Did you find it?"

Leaning back in the air lazily Alfred let his eyes roll. "Nope."

Japan nodded stiffly, his empty brown eyes searching the two questioningly. "Something happened."

Humming aloud France fixed his loose locks. "We met a cute hunter."

"He's English, too!" Alfred added excitedly, like that fact alone made the entire concept better.

Showing little emotion Japan nodded once more. It was no surprise America and France had come across a hunter, their track record for disaster was high. And the fact that they where in England made it very likely that any hunters would in fact be British.

"We're gonna play again tomorrow night."

"Whilst looking," Francis added as they came under a skeptical gaze.

...

As he made his way home Arthur let his thoughts drift back to a few nights ago.

"Guess what it's going to be on Monday?"

Humouring the American, Arthur shrugged. "Another long day."

"Nope, it's special!"

Sighing into the humid air the Brit ruffled his hair, irritated. His soft features marred with distaste. The warm morning sun doing nothing to improve his mood.

"I still have no idea what he was on about."

...

Stirring in the darkness of his room Alfred hummed aloud. Letting his oceanic eyes wonder to the boarded window. His mind very much preoccupied he smiled darkly, running a pale tongue slowly over his teeth.

"Happy Valentine's Day Arthur Kirkland."