AN: Hello everyone! First off, please excuse the horrible title! This is my first Hetalia Thanksgiving fic and any attempt at making it somber and sweet instantly went down the drain the moment France and England made it within a mile of this fic. So please try to enjoy anyway!
Thanksgiving was a holiday very near and dear to Alfred's heart. It was lonely in some ways, due to Alfred not having the most traditional definition of a family to share it with, but he rationalized it away with 'If I get to eat more turkey, it's obviously alright.' He wasn't the most rational of people however and he always went extremely overboard with his preparations. Decorations were, of course, a must, and his feast was cooked for what seemed like a family that numbered in the several dozens instead of the single man it was indeed meant for. This did however leave a certain pattern to each year.
Set the turkey in the oven, and wake up to a grease fire. Lately he had gotten the timing down to waking up just before the turkey caught fire. He was certain that in another hundred years or so he'd finally be able to eat a decent one. He was of course secretly thankful for the replacement turkey that France always just so happened to drop on his porch as he passed by. He also found this just a little bit creepy.
After he was satisfied that everything was safely (or as safely as cooking could be in his house) baking, roasting or boiling away he threw himself onto a small couch that was placed conveniently close to his kitchen with his TV in front. Digging through his couch, he found the remote and flipped the TV on to the Thanksgiving Parade which had just started. Happy to completely ignore the fact that he should have been checking on the 20 lb turkey in his oven, which was in fact, only an hour away from being ready, and 2 to being on fire, he sat down and began to watch.
Two and a half hours later, he was woken up by the screech of the fire alarm and the sprinklers going off over his head. Right on schedule.
Alfred made his way to his kitchen, where true to tradition once again, Arthur and Francis were fighting over who let the turkey go up in flames when they specifically told the other one to watch it. Matthew was silently attempting to stop Kumajirou from eating the fire extinguisher foam covered turkey. Alfred wasn't entirely sure how they broke into his house every single year, but he hadn't exactly made some kind of effort to change the locks on his door either.
"Mon dieu Arthur! You're dripping into the gravy!"
"You git! Turn off the sprinklers!"
"Move away from the stuffing Eyebrows!"
"You bloody-!"
Alfred reached past Arthur and Francis, who were strangling each other over the marble countertop, and flipped a switch that turned off the sprinklers. He grabbed Matthew's scarf off his neck and started to wave it at the fire alarm until it finally stopped shrieking.
"Ah-ah! Brother help!" Matthew wailed.
Kumajirou was hanging upside down off his arms, grabbing the pan of ruined turkey and trying to gobble as much of it as possible. Alfred rolled his eyes and grabbed the pan from the small polar bear.
Matthew set the polar bear down and talked to him firmly about the dangers of consuming possibly toxic materials, no matter how wonderful the underlying meal may be.
Meanwhile, Francis and Arthur were still beating the stuffing out of each other, and were getting dangerously close to using materials that could actually cause harm to Alfred's poor unsuspecting kitchen.
"HEY YOU TWO BREAK IT UP."
"THAT WANKER RUINED MY MEAT PIE!"
"THE ONLY WAY TO RUIN IT EVEN FURTHER WOULD BE TO MAKE MORE OF THE WRETCHED THING!"
"MY MEAT PIES ARE DELICIOUS AND WONDERFUL AND BETTER THAN ANYTHING YOU COULD EVER COOK UP!"
"DID YOUR TASTE BUDS DIE IN THE LAST HUNDREDS OF YEARS?!"
"SNAIL EATER!"
"ENGLISH FOOD EATER!"
Alfred grabbed a handily placed, and often used, whistle and blew on it loudly.
"Arthur, grab a mop."
"Why would I help you mop up your house?! And I'm the hero is NOT a valid answer."
Alfred pouted and thought for a back up answer for a moment.
"Oh okay I got one. Because not only did you nearly set my house on fire, you ended up flooding it instead."
"How do you know it wasn't Francis' fault?!"
"When was the last time you ever heard about Francis destroying his kitchen?"
Arthur opened his mouth to respond and Alfred quickly interrupted.
"When it wasn't during one of his sexual pursuits?"
Arthur grumpily grabbed the mop and trudged into the living room while muttering a curse under his breath that if all went well, would make sure Alfred got a wicked case of water damage in his house.
Several hours later Francis finally pulled the turkey (which he had hauled with him from France since he KNEW that somehow Arthur was going to find a way to render the first one inedible) out of the oven.
"Mes cheries! The turkey is ready! Arthur you step within 5 feet of that carving knife and I'll make sure you don't have another foot to step on!"
Arthur muttered something that sounded very ungentlemanly under his breath and sat down in the chair furthest from Francis.
Alfred cheerfully sat down next to Matthew and held his hand up.
"We have to say what we're thankful for! I am, of course, thankful for being so damn awesome!"
Francis flipped his hair and smiled "I am thankful for-"
"We want to be able to keep down this dinner after you finish that sentence so finish it wisely." Arthur warned.
Francis paused. "Uh… well... oh yes! I am thankful that I have not eaten any of the horrible excuse England passes off for food! Especially scones. Those things are nasty."
Alfred glared at Arthur. He choked down his momentary rage and coughed.
"I'm grateful that I'm an island that doesn't share a single border with you wine freak."
"I'm sure you wished you shared more than a border with me." Francis said with a well-placed wiggle of his eyebrows.
Matthew cringed and Alfred gagged.
"Not over the dinner table please!"
Matthew cleared his throat meekly.
"I'm thankful that we can celebrate this holiday together."
Everyone stared at him.
"Sentimental! I like that Mattie! Nice job!" Alfred said.
"But…"
"Go ahead Mattie!"
"Thanksgiving was a month ago." *
Alfred laughed loudly. "Oh you silly Canadian you!"
"Now then, I do think it's time to carve the turkey! You're going to let it get cold!" Francis said sounding mildly irritated.
Several hours later everyone was lying around the house sleeping the large dinner off. Alfred had gone to bed last, being the one who the task of cleaning up always fell to but that was only fair considering he generally only nearly burned down his house, and as that was a very simple responsibility they felt he needed to do some part of the work. Alfred smiled and shut off the faucet before walking down to his room.
He'd never tell them this of course, but the real reason he loved Thanksgiving was that he got to spend it with his family.
* Canadian Thanksgiving is on October 12th if my horribly cheap calendar is to be trusted.