"This was a great idea Iggy!" Tapping the steering wheel Alfred bobbed his head along to the song as they worked their way through the countryside. They had decided that for Arthur's weekend visit they should take his Liberty. go out of town, a change of pace. It was one of the best decisions he had made in a long while. He loved his Jeep liberty, it got great gas mileage that was for sure., However, when they got to his cabin, in a small town 4 hours outside of DC he was excited to get into his garage. He had a canary yellow Alvis TE 21 tucked away inside. The town they were going to had a summertime drive in theatre. He knew the nostalgic nation would be absolutely enamored, though he wouldn't show it, by the whole set up. The town even had a cute old time dinner in their downtown.

The old country road they had decided was empty except for them, the wheat and the occasional cow. The jeep took the bumps and dips of the old dirt road with ease, kicking up dust as they went. The hum of the engine was non existent between the huffing wind and the static free radio. Grabbing his glass coke bottle from the cup holder he cast a quick glance at Arthur. The other nations would never believe him.

The island nation had his seat dropped back, arms crossed behind his head and feet propped out the window. A pair of black shades covered eyes of emerald and the normally stuffy nation was dressed in blue jeans and a tight t shirt of forest green, riding up ever so slightly. Just enough to reveal a sliver of pale skin that would never tan. Feet in black socks propped up over the side mirror, speaking levels of comfort and trust to the American. He looked the picture perfect image of a college kid taking a road trip.

It always caught him off guard, even after years together, when he saw the United Kingdom looking like a normal 20 something year old. Sure the English nation looked to be of that age, but he wasn't and he certainly did not act like it. The majority of the time at least. There was that punk rock stage that England went through…

Arthur was watching the countryside fly by while Alfred was watching him. It took him a moment but he realized that Arthur's mouth was moving. Arthur was singing. Lowering the bottle from his mouth, he pressed the volume button. He turned down the music just to hear him sing.

"I hear her voice in the morning hour, she calls me, the radio reminds me of my home far away.

And driving down the road I get a feeling that I should have been home yesterday, yesterday.

Country roads, take me home to the place I belong." (Denver) Oblivious to his audience Arthur continued to sing, one foot tapping absentmindedly.

Alfred remained silent. It wasn't often that he got to hear Arthur sing. The man used to sing all the time when Alfred was a colony. Lullabies, cleaning, you name it Arthur had had a song for it. Now it was only on the rare occasion that Alfred caught the Brit singing. His voice was low, honey and warm like the sun pouring in through the windshield. Putting the bottle down he looked back at the road, turning the song down another notch. As much as he loved Denver, Arthur's voice sounded much better to him. Spotting the up and coming stop sign Alfred eased on the break at the intersection.

"You turned down the music. What for?" Arthur looked at the Alfred from beneath his sunglasses. The younger nation was looking at him, lopsided grin always quirking the left side of his mouth just ever so higher than the right. The breeze from the open windows brushed his bangs across his forehead, resulting in his pushing them back with a wider grin.

"No reason Iggy." he smiled and Arthur reached for the map that had fallen to the floorboards. Grasping it lightly Arthur scanned the lines and markings on the crinkled paper.

"We are almost there no?"

"Yep. Though I told you that I don't need a map. I know exactly where we are going" he smiled propping one elbow onto the center console. His smile widened as Arthur looked back up at him. He knew what he wanted. Pulling off his sunglasses Arthur leaned up and allowed the American to steal a kiss.

Amidst the dust from the road and the sweet breeze tumbling through the car Arthur still tasted of bergamot. Reminiscent of the black thermos in the cupholder. Alfred was certain that by this century his better half had replaced the blood in his veins with precisely steeped tea. It was quiet. No noises from the city, no people bustling, cars honking. Just them and the road. Just the sunlight pouring down over them and the land around them. No phone interrupting and with the radio turned down low it was quiet. Denver had it right. Leaning forward slightly he stole another kiss from the Brit as the other pulled back. Very much Arthur.

When Alfred opened his eyes he was greeted with the sight of a wonderful smile. The tensions of political life and the stresses of being a nation had all but disappeared from Arthur's face. His hair seemed to shine brighter in the afternoon sun and his smiles genuine. It was only friday and yet Arthur already looked healthier than when he had arrived on the plane the previous evening. All they had done was drive today.

"What is it?" Arthur asked in confusion as the other just stared at him with a happy look upon his face. Shaking his head Alfred pulled back, shifted the car back in gear and took a left. It would take them a bit out of their way, add an extra 30 minutes to their drive, but there was absolutely nothing wrong with that.

"Nothing…just…country roads."

Notes:

The lyrics England is singing are from 'Country Roads' by John Denver

Denver, John. Country Roads. MCA Records, 1971. MP3.

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