Hello, everyone! This is part one of two of my Christmas fic! Chapter two will most likely be up before Christmas.

Warning: Creepy Santa!France

Enjoy!~

'*Sigh* The last world meeting before my least favorite day of the year. What's the point? We don't even talk about important issues. We just talk about the holidays and who's probably going to get wasted at America's party. Except for me. Because I know that's it's just going to be another Christmas alone-'

"Big Brother England!"

England cringed. He'd been hoping for at least a few minutes of peace and quiet before being bothered. "Hello Peter." At this point he'd exhausted his last effort to keep Sealand away from world meetings. It wasn't worth putting up a fight anymore.

"Jerkland~ My country's heating system broke, and it's really cold. Can I stay with you?" Sealand asked.

England snorted. He wondered if Sealand would ever come to the realization that if your country has its own heating system, odds are that it's not really a country. "Yes, I suppose you can. How long will you be staying?"

Sealand thought for a moment. "Umm, Mr. Bates said that it would take about a week until it'll be fixed so... until around the 30th."

December 30th? That was...after Christmas. He'd be staying for Christmas... They'd be spending Christmas...together. "Er, Peter," England said, "I'm a little busy, do you think you could stay with Latvia?" His stomach filled with guilt. How could he be this selfish? Lying to his little brother just so that he could spend Christmas time by himself.

Sealand's expression saddened. "Oh. Okay. I'll go find Raivas. But he's going to spend Christmas with Estonia, Lithuania, Belarus, Ukraine, and Russia. I don't know them very well..."

England patted him on the head. "Well cheer up. I'm sure you'll have fun." He turned and began walking away. 'Well that's a relief. I can be alone and I won't feel bad about not spending time with Peter because Peter will be having fun with Latvia, Lithuania, Estonia, Ukraine, Belarus, and Russia...'

Wait a minute...

HOLY SHIT, RUSSIA!?

"PETER! PETER! WAIT!" England took off back down the hallway. Luckily Sealand hadn't gotten too far. He grabbed the startled looking boy. "Listen...Peter," he panted, "You can spend Christmas with me, okay. Just us."

Sealand looked confused. "But didn't you just say that you were busy-?"

"Uh, something came up," he said quickly, "And now I'm free."

Sealand grinned, "So we'll be able to have lots of fun together?"

"Er...uh...well...y-yes...we'll have fun together."

"Yay!" Sealand cheered, "I still think you're a jerk though."

"Why am I not surprised. Anyway, I have to go to the meeting, so I'll be off-"

"I'm coming with you!"

"Fine, fine."

England made his way to the third floor where the meeting was being held, Sealand right behind him. The countries were all gathered outside of the meeting room and, as predicted, the only topic of conversation that anyone seemed to be able to discuss involved things along the lines of "Well, I'm having Christmas dinner with my boss and his family..." and "Remember last year at America's party when Belarus saw Russia talking to China and she went ape-shit on everyone? Hahaha, that was great!" or "It's so nice to see all of the children in my country so happy at this time of year!"

'Why does everyone have to be so goddamn happy, England thought, Everyone's beaming like an idiot-'

"Yo! Iggy!"

'Speaking of idiots…'

England growled in frustration. Couldn't a man have an internal monologue in peace?! "What is it, America?" he tried his best to keep his tone calm, but a sliver of irritation nevertheless made its way into his voice. America, being America, didn't seem to care or even notice.

"Tonight's gonna be totally great, right?!"

England caught America's eyes for just a fleeting moment. He turned his head away, slowly so as to not make it obvious. There was something about those smiling, deep blue eyes that made nervous energy bubble up uncomfortably inside his stomach. He mumbled something that sounded a lot like "Meh." America was remarkably oblivious to the indifference of this response; "I know, right?! You better be there." His usual jaunty grin suddenly disappeared. "Uh...hey, England?"

England was taken aback by the sudden change in tone. "Y-yes?"

America was silent for a few seconds as if searching for the words to express what he had to say. After an agonizingly long pause, America finally said, "Uh...did you do something with your hair?"

"...W-what?" A wave of annoyance hit England and the nervous energy seemed to evaporate. What the hell?! What kind of question was that?! "No, I didn't," he huffed, "Now sod off."

America held up his hands, as if surrendering. "Fine, fine. See you later." He backed away a few feet and turned around, walking away. England watched until the American disappeared at the end of the hallway. England sighed. He hadn't expected America to immediately leave. He had actually sort of wanted to talk to America. There was just something about talking to him that made England's troubles melt away. That voice. Those cerulean eyes. That grin; that big, stupid grin full of perfect, white teeth.

So why did England always push him away? It wasn't really something that he could even understand himself. Sometimes it just seemed that the venomous words forced their way through his lips. Almost like a defense mechanism; it was automatic. Whenever America showed up he went into fight-or-flight mode. Except there was no option for "flight". It was always "fight", and words were his weapon. England could probably write 70,000 words about how much he hated America and not mean a single one of them.

"Hey Jerk!"

'Why doesn't America just understand?! But...understand what? Ugh, I can't even think straight!'

"Jerkland!"

'Why can't I stop thinking about this? It's no big deal, I'll just apologize to him later...'

"Hey!"

'Wait a minute, there's no way in hell I'm apologizing to him! This is all his fault!...what's his fault? I don't know...'

"Britain!" Sealand tugged hard at England's sleeve.

England jumped in surprise. "What, Peter?!" he snapped.

"Are you going?"

"Going where? The meeting?"

"No, America's Christmas party!"

England realized that he hadn't even thought about the matter. "Erm, I haven't decided yet," England said, "Why do you ask?"

"Mr. America just really seemed to want you to be there," Sealand replied, smiling innocently, "And he always stays at your house when there's a world meeting in your country."

"That's just a courtesy thing!" England snapped, "Plenty of other countries have stayed at my house before, and it's merely for business purposes!"

"But only Mr. America stays at your house when there's a world meeting," Sealand said, "And I heard that you always stay at America's house when there's a world meeting in his country."

"I'm certainly not the only person who stays at America's house during world meetings! And who the hell told you that-?"

"And the Revolutionary War still makes you sad even though none of the people in your country care anymo-" Sealand stopped talking, seeing England's face darken. He might have gone too far.

"Peter," England's tone was more melancholic than angry, "Things...have changed between America and I...a lot. It's been over two hundred years...we've fought in wars against each other and we've fought in wars together...it's a weird situation. I'd rather not talk about it."

Sealand looked down at his feet. "Oh. I'm sorry..."

England patted him on the shoulder. "That's all right, lad. Why don't you go find Australia and see what he's doing or chat with Ireland or something."

Sealand nodded, looking a bit dejected, and plodded off in the same direction that America had left in just a few minutes earlier. England slumped down onto a bench. Just a minute to himself before the meeting; that's all he asked for.

"Hey, Al. Did you give the thing to England?"

"Eh? Oh hey, Mattie! Nah, I chickened out."

"Oh, really? That's too bad. What happened?"

"I don't know. I was gonna give it to him, but he just didn't seem in the mood for anything. I ended up asking him if he did anything with his hair. Pretty dumb, right?"

"No!...well actually, yeah, a little. But hey, you'll have another chance. Is England going to your party?"

"I actually don't know. I hope he does. It's been a while since I've had a normal conversation with him."

"England seems a little lonely sometimes. Have you outright asked him to go to your party?"

"Uh, not really. I mentioned that I wanted him to be there, but then I changed the topic. He didn't say anything about it."

"Maybe he's nervous."

"Dude, it's the British Empire we're talkin' about, not some pre-teen girl."

"Yeah...but England acts different around you."

"Different? How?"

"I don't know, just...different."

"Whatever...Hey, the meeting's going to start soon."

"Yeah. We should make sure we have everything we need. Do you have your papers for your presentation about AIDS?"

"Oh! Shit!"

"Al, you're hopeless."

England glanced at his watch. The meeting would start in thirteen minutes. Thirteen precious minutes to himself. He let his head fell back to release the strain on his neck. He closed his eyes and respired slowly, trying to relax himself. He was sick of feeling so emotionally tired. No, not tired, exhausted.

"Bonjour Angleterre!~"

England's eyelids shot open. Was a moment's peace really too much to ask for? "What do you want, frog?"

"What, I cannot say hello? Now, what seems to be the problem, mon ami? This wouldn't 'appen to 'ave anything to do with Amerique, would it?"

"No!" England snapped.

"Well, what is the problem then?" France asked.

"Uh...Sealand ended up staying at my house for Christmas, and, you know, he's a kid...and, uh, I'm not sure what I should get him as a gift." It wasn't a complete lie. This was indeed a problem that he would have to think about.

"Well, I would be more than 'appy to 'elp~" France said.

England raised an eyebrow, "What's the catch?"

France mocked offense, "I am 'urt, Angleterre! You think that I am that selfish?"

England looked suspicious, "How would you even help with that-?"

"But you know, it would be magnifique if I got my AAA rating back from Moody's Investors Service~"

Of course. He knew there had to be some catch. England waved his hand, "Fine, I'll see what I can do." If there was an opportunity to reduce his growing list of problems, he'd take it.

"Honhonhon! Merci, Angleterre! I will take care of everything!~ Now where is little Sealand?"

"Sealand?"

"Well, of course. If I am to figure out what he wants, I would have to talk to 'im first, non?"

"I suppose. You can talk to him after the meeting, I guess."

Sealand strolled through the empty hallway. Through the walls he could unmistakably recognize that sounds of a meeting in progress; yelling, shouting, scuffling, squabbling. He usually intruded in on the meetings, sitting in the corner and amusing himself by watching the hot-headed adults fight over even the silliest issues. But he hadn't been able to muster up the courage to enter the meeting room that day. He was overwhelmed by guilt; a feeling somewhat foreign for a child his age. The way his older brother's eyes seemed to lose their life; it was saddening.

"Honhonhon, hello there, little boy!~"

Sealand jumped. Out of nowhere a man with a large, white beard emerged wearing a red suit, boots, and a red hat with a small white ball at the end of it. This man was actually France, of course, though Sealand did not recognize him.

Sealand giggled, "Who are you?"

"I am Père Noël, of course!" France said.

"Who?"

"Uh, Santa Claus. I am Santa Claus."

Sealand's eyes lit up, "Really? Santa Claus?"

"Oui!~ I am really Santa Claus!~"

Sealand looked at him curiously, "Hmmm...prove it."

France hadn't been prepared for that. "Er...'ow can I prove it?~"

Sealand thought about his response carefully, "Um...what's one thing that my older brother England is terrible at?"

"Honhonhon, that is easy!~ Cooking, of course!" France said.

Sealand looked flabbergasted, "Wow! How did you know!?"

"Because I am Santa Claus!" said France, "So...are you convinced?"

"Hmm...Who's my best friend?"

"Latvia."

"What's my favorite color?"

"Blue."

"What are my other siblings' names besides England?"

"Ireland, Northern Ireland, Scotland, and Wales."

This line of questioning continued for five or so minutes. France answered each question with ease, the most difficult of these questions being "What's Scotland's favorite alcoholic drink?" France was surprised when he was correct in saying "He doesn't mind as long as he can get wasted."

"Okay, do you believe me now?" France asked, smiling through gritted teeth.

"Hmm...yup! You're really Santa Claus!" Sealand said excitedly.

"Great!~" France exclaimed. Finally, progress. He spotted a chair nearby and pulled it over, sitting himself down on it. He patted his lap. "Well Peter, why don't you sit on Santa's lap and tell me what you want for Christmas!~"

Sealand immediately complied, jumping up into the man's lap. He was grinning ear to ear.

"Now, tell me, Peter," France said, "What do you want more than anything else in the world for Christmas?"

Sealand looked unsure. "Umm...hmm...it can be anything?"

"Oui! Anything!"

France knew the answer was probably going to be something ridiculous, but he was okay with that as long as he got his triple-A rating back. If it wasn't independence from England it would probably be whatever it is that pre-teen boys want; action figures, computer games, candy, etc. Probably whatever randomly popped into his mind.

But Sealand still looked indecisive.

"Come on, there must be something that you want," France prodded, "Just think. What does your heart desire more than anything?"

"Um...there is something..." Sealand said.

"Yes?"

"But it's dumb."

"That's okay!" France assured him, "Santa says and does dumb things all the time!"

"Uh, okay," Sealand smiled, "What I really want more than anything is for Big Brother England and Mr. America to kiss."

France stared. He hadn't seen that one coming.

Sealand looked away, "I knew you were going to think it's dumb..."

"Non! It is fantastique!" France exclaimed.

"Really?"

"Really! I think that it's wonderful that you can see the love between them!"

"You think that they love each other, too?" Sealand asked, hopeful.

"Why, of course! I think Amerique and Angleterre have been in love with each other for a very long time! It's just that neither wants to admit it!"

"Oh, I'm so glad!" Sealand said, "But..."

"Hmm, what is it?" France asked.

"What if they just like each other as friends or in a brother kind of way?"

France sighed. "You know, Peter. Angleterre used to think that Amerique was like a little brother to him, and Amerique thought that Angleterre was like his big brother. But then Amerique grew up very quickly... and he decided that it wasn't what he wanted, so he went to war with Angleterre. After the war, after Amerique gained his independence, Angleterre was very sad. He ended up hating Amerique."

Sealand's eyes went wide, "England hated Mr. America?!"

"Oui, he did. He went to war with him again. It must have been around the 1870's that they started being able to even hold a conversation with one another."

"But...then how do you go from hating someone to being in love with someone?" Sealand asked.

"Angleterre and Amerique tried to repair their relationship. They knew it would never be the same, but they were two very strong countries; they knew it would be better to become friends rather than continue on as enemies."

"And...they fell in love?"

"Oui. They fell in love."

"But how?" Sealand asked, "How do you fall in love with someone? Does it just...happen?"

France chuckled, "Well, Peter...that's a question that not even Santa can answer. L'amour works in strange ways."

"Well, when did they fall in love?" Sealand asked.

"Hmm. That is hard to say since neither of them has ever been willing to admit it. But I think that no matter how long they've been in love...it hurts them both to have to keep it to themselves."

"So, are they not going to admit it?"

"They'll admit it," France said, "They just need a little...motivation."

Sealand grinned, "So my wish will come true?"

France nodded, smiling. "Oui. Don't you worry Peter...Santa will make sure of it."

"You promise?"

"Oui, I promise."

Sealand looked delighted. France was about to open his mouth to conclude the conversation and depart when Sealand suddenly asked, "Hey, Santa...are you in love with anyone?"

For the first time he could remember, France was completely and utterly flustered. "Er...Santa was in love a very long time ago...with a beautiful women named Jeanne. Or, Joan, as you would say. But...Jeanne died. Santa has tried to find l'amour with others. But..." France dropped the 3rd-person references to himself, "I 'ave decided that I should not love another until I can forget Jeanne. There's someone that I 'ave in mind. But, at least for the time being, he deserves someone better than me. When you love someone you should love them with all your heart, non?"

Sealand nodded slowly, "Yeah...I guess."

"The meeting is almost over. Why don't you go wait for your older brothers?" France said.

"Okay! Bye, Santa!" Sealand hopped up and skipped off towards the direction of the meeting room. The only sounds from the room were short, somewhat frustrated, quips. This meant that the meeting had reached the point where everyone was awkwardly trying to gather their things to leave or, on a bad day, the host country would be trying to clean the blood off the floor.

France set of towards the bathroom. He'd have to change out of the ridiculous Santa suit. 'What a cute little kid,' he thought, 'It's 'ard to believe that he is related to Angleterre.'

England smoothed his hair out. That had certainly been a...lively meeting. He just hoped that the hotel manager wouldn't charge them for the broken chair. Now, he just had to find the stupid frog and then...talk to America? No. Why did he keep thinking of America?

'Come on, Arthur. Just think of something else. What were you worrying about before? Something about Peter, right? Then you started thinking about...America'

"Ugh!" he groaned. He slammed his head against the wall. He was inundated with unwanted pictures of America; He couldn't stop picturing America. He couldn't stop hearing America's voice. He couldn't stop repeating the name in his thoughts; America, America, America, America, America-

"You know Angleterre, the hotel staff are already très angry, maybe you shouldn't be banging your head against the wa-"

"Belt up," England snapped, "...Well?"

France smirked, "Well what?"

"Well, what did Peter say?" England asked, visibly annoyed.

"Hmmmm, I'm not telling you~"

"What the hell!? I told you that I would help you get your AAA rating back if-!"

"Oh, I don't care about the rating anymore~" France said, smirking.

"Well then what do you want?!"

"Hmm...I want you to go to Amerique's party~"

"America's p-party?!" England spluttered, "Why?!"

"I'll tell you later~ Also I want you to personally tell Amerique that you are going."

"B-but, w-why...I...CAN'T YOU JUST TELL ME?!"

"No~"

"Fu-!"

"Oh, look! There's Amerique!" France cleared his throat and, doing his best impression of England, shouted, "America!"

America whipped his head around, surprised. France made a break for it before England could react.

"Hey, England, was that you? You sound kinda weird."

"U-uh, m-must've been something stuck in my throat, sorry," England stuttered. He let out an extremely fake sounding cough.

"Um...yeah...anyway, what do you want?" America asked.

"Excuse me?"

"You, um, called me over here..."

"Oh, right! I-I just w-wanted to tell you that I'll, uh...I'll be at your party."

America beamed. "Really?"

"Y-yes. Really..." England smiled sheepishly.

They caught each others' eyes and stared.

'Wow...America's eyes...and that smile...'

'Wow...England kinda looks like he's going to piss himself.'

America cleared his throat. "Uh...yeah...see you later, dude."

"Y-yeah. Bye..."

'Ugh. Why is America acting so awkward? I can never tell what the hell he's thinking...trying to figure out what he's thinking is like trying to figure out what a statue is thinking...a retarded statue that smiles a lot.'

Explanatory Notes:

- The Mr. Bates that Sealand is referring to is Paddy Roy Bates, the founder of the Principality of Sealand. Although I'm guessing that about 95% of the people reading this have looked at the Wikipedia page for Sealand and already know about the Bates family.

- France's AAA rating – France recently lost its AAA rating from Moody's Investor's Service due to its debt.

- Père Noël – Basically, the French Santa Claus.

- Most people probably already know this, but just as a history refresher; relations between America and England were SUPER AWKWARD following the Revolutionary War and far into the 19th century. My favorite example of this is when a full scale war almost broke out between them in 1859 when an American man shot a pig that had showed up in his yard that turned out to belong to a Englishman who lived in British territory close by in Canada. It started with the two men debating about how much the American should pay to replace the pig and somehow rapidly escalated into both the Americans and British sending out GODDAMN WARSHIPS. However, no actual fighting occurred and everyone seemed to forget about the incident a few months later. It's still hilarious, though.

Anyway, to be continued...