Snowy Magic

America was in a terrible mood and in his opinion that was unacceptable.

Why? Because it was Christmas, for candy cane's sake! The time of love and peace and giving and presents and snow!

But America…America was stuck in Australia. Don't get him wrong he liked Australia as much as the next person and he had heard about certain places that did snow. But he was no where near any such place.

A World Meeting had been held and ended a few hours ago and everyone had left via plane to their homelands. But any planes heading to the U. S. of A. were cancelled because of a blizzard in said country.

"A blizzard," America snapped from where he sat in the airport. "A freaking blizzard, of course, everyone over there is so lucky, I'm never that lucky."

In his great annoyance he didn't notice the people around him staring and either scooting or walking away.

"I can't believe this," he continued to angrily mutter to himself. "Christmas is in a matter of days, I need to be home, in the snow. Snow balls, snow forts, snow men, I-"

"Do stop talking to yourself," a sudden voice interrupted. "You're frightening the innocent bystanders."

America looked up, shocked to see England of all people standing before him in a shirt and khakis. But his frowning brows were still the same.

"You're one to talk," America sniped, but by the confusion on England's face he knew his jab had missed. "What are you still doing here anyway," he couldn't help but ask.

"I had some extra things to discuss with Australia," England explained. He rubbed his brow, sweating from the blazing sun outside. "As soon as I was done I got a call from my boss to find out the plane home was cancelled because of some blizzard, so I thought to come see if I was the only one stuck and-"

"Are you serious," Alfred gaped in horror. "Your place got a blizzard too?! This sucks!" his last words ended in a groan as he slid off the chair onto the floor.

"Get back up," England snapped, "You're embarrassing me."

"I don't wanna," America moaned childishly.

England gave him a look, "Because you're not stranded in a storm? I swear, I'll never understand how that melted mind of yours works!"

America exhaled, "It's not the storm, England." He brought his knees to his chin, wrapping his arms around his legs. "It's the snow."

England tilted his head, "Pardon?"

"It's almost Christmas, and I'm not home. That's where I want to be, where it's snowing. It doesn't feel like Christmas without it."

He heard England let out a heavy sigh, "You're as daft as ever I see."

Despite it being ungentlemanly he sat down on the floor next to America. "Christmas isn't a certain place and cold weather."

"Yeah, but it is hanging out with friends," he smiled softly to himself. "And the snow brings back some great memories."

"What memories?"

America's already hot cheeks flushed with color, "Oh, just some silly stuff, nothing you'd be interested in."

"Ah," England replied, he sounded disappointed but America guessed that was his imagination.

"Well," England continued awkwardly, "At least you have a friend to spend time with."

America gave him a dubious look before looking around the airport, "Where?"

The angry/hurt look England sent him had America's eyes widening, "Oh! You meant you!"
England looked away, his cheeks red, "Not anymore, I don't."

"Oh, jeez, England I'm sorry," America tried for a tongue-tied apology. "Y-you just never really acted like we're friends so…"

His words made the Brit flinch, "Can you see why?"

America swallowed, "Sorry." He said again, the word feeling lam eon his tongue.

He leaned his head against the seat of his chair. "This has not been a good Christmas week."

The world ticked away in silence, England shifted as if he was about to get up and leave. And America realized that was the last thing he wanted. He and England had their differences… but he'd love to spend the holidays with the older nation.

"Do you still want to know about those memories," he abruptly asked. "The ones the snow always brings back?"

England looked toward him, a thick brow cocked, "Very well, I have time to kill."

"I remember the times we played in the snow," America smiled softly. "From when I was a colony, we'd build snow men and make snow angels."

England blushed and spluttered, "Y-Y-You don't say?"

America's smile grew, not matter what he adored making England lose his cool.

"Afterwards you'd fix me something warm to drink, start a fire; we'd sit in front of it and read fairy tales." His eyes bore into the Brit's, "Remember?"

England quickly put his neutral face on and shrugged a shoulder, "Hm, I think I vaguely recall something like that. I'm sure you were as chaotic then as you are now."

America grinned at that; England was such a tsundere (as Japan would put it).

"Though I must say I'm surprised," England admitted gruffly. "I figured you would pretend your days as a colony never happened."

America frowned, "Why say that? I loved those times."

Those words made England drop his disinterested façade, "Don't lie to me. You couldn't wait to become independent."

"Yeah but I didn't hate spending time with you."

England's Adam's apple bobbed, "Yet you still left…and I still wonder why."

America shrugged, "Lot's of reasons. One of them was so I could go places." He chuckled bitterly, "And now that I am in a "place" all I want is to go home.

"Another reason was that so we could hang out more." He grinned cheekily at England, "Which I'm doing right now so I guess it evens out."

England was giving him a weird look now, and America's smile slowly flattened out. Did he upset him again? He hadn't meant to. What did he say?

America was desperately trying to think of what he had said wrong when England suddenly stood up.

He opened his mouth (though he wasn't sure what he was going to say), when England extended his hand to him.

"Come with me," he said.

America took the offered hand and stood up. "Where are we going?"

"My hotel room," was the answer.

America blushed, causing England to scowl, "Not for that! Don't flatter yourself."

He led America out of the airport, through the hot, crowded streets, and to his hotel where the Brit was staying.

America placed his luggage down in England's room, still not sure why he was here. England was rummaging around in his suitcase.

"So…why am I here again," America finally asked.

"For an innocent surprise," England answered, not turning around.

After a few more moment so silence England made a triumphant sound and held up what he had been looking for: his wand.

America furrowed his brow but stayed quiet.

England turned around to face him, "Ready for a little magic?"

"Really, England," America tried not to let too much of his exasperation show.

But England grinned determinedly and beckoned him forward, "Indulge me."

America did, stepping over to stand before him. "Close your eyes," England ordered and America obeyed. He heard England mutter some magic mumbo jumbo and could imagine him waving his wand around.

Then America felt something cold drift onto his cheek.

His eyes popped open and his jaw dropped. It was snowing inside the room, drifting from the ceiling lazily to create a soft white blanket on the floor. England beamed with pride as America looked all around the room, his blue eyes beginning to sparkle.

"You…how…what…" he lost the ability to speak.

England tilted his chin up, "Like so many others you underestimate my magical skills."

If he had wanted to say more he was cut off by America's excited scream of flee as he dropped into the snow. He started rolling around, laughing, as England watched with wide but bright eyes.

"It's all soft and crunchy and cold, just like the real thing," America laughed joyfully. "This is great, great, great, great!"

"I'm glad you think so," England admitted when the younger nation had finally calmed down. "I…I don't like thing about the old days…for obvious reasons, so… I want to make new memories…in the snow…with you."

America smiled up at his friend, his eyes twinkling and his chest warm. His hand suddenly lashed out and pulled England down next to him.

"What the bloody-" he began but was stopped when America wrapped his arms around him and rolled them around in the snow.

A few minutes later England pushed himself away, snow was in his hair and clothes and his mouth ached from smiling as he caught his breath.

America suddenly loomed over him, his expression uncharacteristically seriously and it made England's cheeks fare up.

Before he could blink America lowered his head and their lips bumped together, both cold as ice.

Just as quickly as their mouths touched America pulled back, his ears red.

England tentatively touched his own, now tingling, lips, "What was that for?"

"It was a thank you." Despite his red face America still smiled. "And I agree."

"Agree…"

"To make new memories," America lied on his back. "We can have a snow ball fight, build a fort, and make an entire snow family. Then later you can make some magic fireplace, we can have a warm cup of cocoa and cuddle and read fairy tales."

"… I like that," England replied quietly, as if embarrassed to admit it.

America grinned and started to move his arms and legs up and down to make a snow angle. England watched with a soft smile, his chest growing warmer as the snowy magic fell.