This very silly thing was done for the Summer Camp event on the USUK LJ community. Prompt for day three- "Science".

Hope you enjoy!

America had random thoughts.

Or, rather, he had thoughts at the most random of times. For instance- when you're laying in bed with the love of your life, his head resting half on your chest and half on your arm, enjoying the afterglow of some pretty much fantastic sexing, you shouldn't be thinking of fairies.

But he was. More specifically, he was thinking about how they didn't make any sense. Not one to keep thoughts to himself, random or no, he told England as much: "I don't think your fairies make any sense."

England- his cheek still smooshed against America's chest- made a little "Hm?" sound.

"I don't think those fairies you see make any sense," America repeated. "Scientifically speaking."

England sighed and squirmed a little until he was propped up on his elbows, looking down at America. His cheeks were still a little bit pink from earlier, and his hair was even messier than usual, and he looked so good that America kinda wanted to lean up and kiss him- but he looked like he wanted to say something, and England got pissed when he was kissed in the middle of talking, so America resisted the urge.

"Love," England said, sounding- what was the word again?- exasperated. "Haven't we already had this talk and decided to agree to disagree?"

(Which was putting it a little mildly, since their last 'talk' of fairies had been a whole lot of yelling and "If they're there, why can't I see them?" and "If you weren't such a prat maybe they wouldn't avoid you!", and their 'agreeing to disagree' had been a silent armistice between them in the interest of not breaking any more furniture.)

But America nodded anyway, knowing that correcting England would just lead to an argument and England becoming pissy and refusing to cuddle with him, a fate which was to be avoided at all costs. Instead he said, "Yeah, but I was thinking just now-"

(England violently smothered the reflexive "Did it hurt?" that was struggling to break free of his lips.)

"- and what I think is, maybe they do exist."

That took England by surprise. The "Did it hurt?" shriveled up and died and was replaced by a "What?" that he didn't bother trying to hold back.

America grinned- catching England off-guard was always fun- and rolled over on his side, pulling England down with him so they could keep looking at each other. "Hear me out," America said.

England eyed him suspiciously. "You're not just setting me up for some smart-aleck joke, are you?"

"Noooo, England, I'm being serious!" America laughed, laying an arm across his boyfriend's waist. "I promise."

England was still making those "I-don't-believe-you" eyes at him, but he wasn't protesting any more, so America took that as permission to go on.

"See, over at NASA and other places, we're doing some pretty cool stuff. Not going-to-the-moon cool or anything, it's mostly theorizing and things like that, but still, it's kind of amazing. Some people are talking about some pretty crazy things."

"What does NASA have to do with fairies?" England interrupted.

America pulled a face. "I was just about to say, if you'd let me finish." At England's nod, he continued: "Okay, so one of the things we're talking about is the multiverse theory."

"What's the mul-"

"I was saying, sheesh. Basically, some people think that there's more than one universe, and that those universes together make up a multiverse, which includes everything that exists. You told me one time that your fairies don't really live in this world, right?"

England's face twisted up in confusion (which was totally cute, by the way). "That's right. They usually go back to their own world when they're not with me. But I still don't see what you're getting at."

America pouted. "Seriously?"

"You know I don't understand these kind of things like you do," England replied tersely. "What do you even mean by 'more than one universe'? Isn't the universe where everything is? How can there be more than one?"

America "Hmmm"'d and looked down, eyebrows furrowed in thought. He wanted to explain himself, but he didn't really know how to do it without either going into way too confusing terms or sounding condescending, both of which would make England mad. And when England was mad, nobody was happy. Except France.

"It's- it's kind of like..." he said. "Alright, so our universe is made up of everything we can observe. So the stars, galaxies, planets, of course, but it's made up of laws and forces, too. Pretty much everything in our universe follows the same laws. So, a different universe would be a place where things didn't go by those laws, or where the forces we have here were different or missing."

America's face suddenly lit up. "Oooh, there's actually this really interesting theory going around that black holes have something to do with it, too."

"... Black holes?"

"Yeah! Singularities, actually, which are the centers of black holes. It's like this single point where all the laws of our universe can't exist anymore because of how huge the curvature of space-time gets under all that gravity. Some people think that the singularities might be, like, gateways to other worlds, kind of, except that if you tried to go through one you would die for sure- but anyway!

I was thinking, maybe your fairy friends fit into that somehow. Maybe they're actually from one of those multiple other universes that exist beside ours- maybe they somehow can cross over from their universe into ours, and maybe that 'magic' they have is just something they can do because the laws of their universe are so different from ours!"

England stared at America as if he'd just declared that pigs could fly and hamburgers were disgusting. "America," he said.

"Yeah?"

"All that, about the multiple universes, the black holes and the thing at their center or whatnot, forces and laws... all of that makes no goddamn sense whatsoever."

America practically beamed at England and cried, "Exactly! If the multiverse is real; if singularities can lead to them; if forces and laws determine everything about our world; if tiny little atoms made of tinier little quarks can make up this planet, this galaxy, this universe, which might be only a small piece of everything there is, then why the hell can't your fairies be real? Almost nothing in science makes any sense, either, England! Get it?"

England just groaned and buried his face in America's chest with his eyebrows scrunched together. "The only thing I've gotten out of this is a headache!"

America huffed and frowned. He was actually trying to be nice and understanding for once, by showing England that he took him and his fairies seriously. He wasn't trying to confuse or irritate him, but as usual he had managed to fuck a nice thing up. Dang it.

But he could still salvage the situation! Trying to look as apologetic as possible (and he'd had a lot of practice looking apologetic throughout their relationship) he gently cupped England's face and turned his face up. England still had scrunchy-brows on, but he didn't look really angry, so that was good. Leaning his head down, America pushed feather-light kissed on both of England's still-pink cheeks before planting a firmer one on his dour mouth.

England was stiff at first, but after a few seconds he started applying pressure back, and a few seconds after that he had a hand in America's hair. America pulled back pretty soon, though- not because he didn't enjoy the hell out of kissing England, he most definitely did- but because he still had something left to say.

"Let's try this, then," he half-whispered. "You know I'm a man of science, babe. I don't believe in magic or things like that. But I do believe you, and I don't think you're crazy, so if you tell me you have fairy friends, I believe you have fairy friends. I just think there has to be a scientific explanation for them. That make sense?"

England's eyebrows were unscrunched by now, and his blush had come back- only now it wasn't a sex-blush or an angry-blush, but that one he got when he was trying not to melt. He looked so damn cute that all America wanted to do was grab him up and squeeze him, but he didn't because- wait, no, that's exactly what he did.

England squawked and briefly attempted to wriggle away, before accepting defeat and sagging against America. "You," he said, sounding tired but affectionate, "are a confusing, infuriating, but utterly sweet man."

"That's me," America replied happily, nuzzling the top of his boyfriend's head. Pressed up to each other, with the fading remnants of the late afternoon sun streaming in through the crack in the bedroom window curtains, they drifted off into a content sleep.

Hovering just beyond the doorway where they couldn't be spotted, England's fairies were floating in a tense silence. Finally, one of them, a small girl with brown hair, turned to the rest of her kin and said, "HE'S ON TO US."

The End