A/N- This is a short one, but I think that innocent, little kid puppy love thing is adorable. This was written for the US/UK Sweethearts Week in 2010. The theme was "Young Love," and yeah. This is what I came up with. Just as another warning, this is a genderbend. This is also probably the only time you'll ever see me use the name "Iggy" in a fic.

Cooties

"Eeeeeenglaaaaand~"

England jumped and turned her head to glare angrily at the person who had startled her.

"Don't scare me like that, America!"

"But you're so cute when you jump like that- what did that Japanese kid call you again? Oh that's right," America leaned forward, her bright, blonde hair falling into her eyes, "Iiiiiiiiggyy~"

"That's not what he called me," England snapped, pushing America away from her. "He called me 'Igirisu,' which is Japanese for my name. /You/ made up that terrible nickname, and I would appreciate it if you would stop using it."

"Whatever you say Iii~iiggy~"

England decided it best to just ignore the brat and return to her crafts.

"What'cha doin'?"

England didn't have to look up far to find America's face right in her own and she had to push her away again. "Stop doing that!"

"Sorry," she pouted,"I just wanna know what you're doing."

"You can see it without being right next to it. And it's a popsicle stick model of Big Ben."

America started to snicker, "That's what you're doing for your arts and crafts project? That's so lame! I got something even better than that."

England scoffed, "And what would that be?"

"A secret!"

"Not interested." She turned back to her project, determined to get it done before recess.

"Are you suuuuuure?" America jumped onto the table, almost knocking England's glue over. "It's something France told me. Something about you."

England froze. "What did that frog have to say about me?" She asked, trying very hard to keep her anger in check.

"Now you're interested?"

"Just tell me already, America."

"France told me you have cooties!"

England stared at America, "Excuse me?" She wasn't even sure what cooties were, but if France said it, it couldn't be good.

The young blonde snickered, "He said all girls have cooties, which means you have cooties!"

"America, you idiot!" she huffed, a frown on her face. "I have no such thing! Besides, if all girls have cooties, that means you have them as well."

Shaking her head, America grinned, "I'm not a girl, I'm a hero, and heroes don't have cooties."

If England hadn't known better, she would have assumed the girl was joking, but America really did think she was a hero. "You're such a prat, America. Just leave me alone and let me work on my project."

America went silent as England went back to her arts and crafts, but she never moved. England enjoyed the silence, but the whole time she could just feel America staring at her. "Why are you still here, and why are you staring at me?"

America shrugged and wiggled her legs. "I'm just watching, geez."

"You're bothering me."

"But I'm not even doing anything!"

An idea came to England. "America, you ought to move away from me, or you match catch my cooties."

This seemed to have caught America's attention.

"So you admit you have cooties?"

Her brain was telling her to deny it, but the part that wanted to be left alone won out. "Yes, now would you leave me alone?"

"I know something else you don't know about cooties!"

"If I let you tell me, will you leave?"

America smiled happily and nodded.

"Fine. What is it?"

"Cooties can be cured!"

"... You're lying."

America waved her arms wildly and shook her head. "No way! It's true! France told me so!"

Growing more impatient, England waved her hand to signal America to continue. "Well then, out with it."

Before England knew what was happening, she felt a pair of wet lips on her cheek. A few seconds later, the lips moved and beside her sat America with the biggest grin she had ever seen.

"A kiss from a hero! Now you're cootie free!"

The only thing that England managed to get out of her mouth were various shocked sounds that could have never passed for real words. Content with this, America hopped off the table and gave a tiny salute.

"Well, my work here is done! Time to go save the day else where. I'll see you at recess, England!"

America ran off, leaving a stunned England behind. She began to blush as her mind processed what had happened. America kissed her. America kissed her.

And it was all France's fault.

She was going to kill him when recess began.

... But maybe she'd thank him first.