I was toying with the idea of doing a Hetalia version of A Christmas Carol and then thought 'What about a 4th of July version!' I will try to post a chapter a day and hopefully the last chapter will be on the 4th. This first chapter is short but they will get longer so here we go!

I don't own Hetalia or A Christmas Carol!

Chapter 1:Please Come To My Party!

England glared at the invitation that he had just taken out of the envelope that had been placed in his hand. A red, white and blue party invitation. An invitation to America's birthday party and England looked up at the person who had just handed it to him. America's sky-blue eyes looked at him hopefully and Nantucket bounced against his sandy hair as he jigged up and down like a kid at Christmas, hoping he would get what he wished for. England just stared at America. Every year he did this and England never accepted. Why did the thoughtless brat think it would be any different this time. America knew he hated this time of year.

"America …."

"Awwwh! Come on, Iggy," America begged. "You've never been to one of my birthday parties. I promise you'll have fun."

"I sincerely doubt it," England muttered, staring back down at the card in his hand like it was about to bite him. "And don't call me Iggy! It's Britain, England, UK or even Arthur. Not Iggy!"

"Whatever, Iggy," America replied. "I want ya to be there, dude. Just once!"

"Sorry," England said.

"Please!"

"I have plans!"

"Can't you cancel 'em," America plead.

"No!" America decided to pull out the big guns.

"Well," he said with a self-sacrificing tone, tears gathering in the corner of his eyes behind his glasses and his lower lip pushed out into a pout. "If ya really don't wanna, I guess it's okay but I did kinda plan for you to be there so if you don't come, you will kinda spoil it for everyone."

"I'm sure everyone will have a good time without me," England replied, turning away from America's puppy dog face before it shook his resolve. "Probably better. I'm sorry, America, but the answer's no!" He shoved the invitation back into its envelope and dropped it on to his coffee table.

What! America could not believe that did not work. Japan had fallen for it, hook, line and sinker. America reached into the inner pocket of his leather bomber jacket and pulled out another envelope and dropped it on top of the invitation.

"If ya change your mind," he said. "That's a plane ticket for the 3rd. I really want you to be there, Iggy." He turned and left.

England stood there for a while, looking at the door and then down at the invitation and plane ticket. Truth was he wanted to be there for America's birthday but America's birthday was tied to the Revolutionary War and America's Independence which always resulted in England falling ill and England did not want America to see him like that.

Besides, even though he did not now, the fact that America had, at one time, grown to hate him so much that he went to war against England to get away from him, hurt England so much, it was like a rusty, jagged knife stabbing him right to the soul. He could not go. It might be cowardly but he could not face it.

He walked past the table and the two envelopes.

Sat in the late evening, sipping Earl Grey, England was in his favourite chair, reading the evening paper but he could feel the presence of the elephant in the room, like a restless spirit. He glanced around the edge of his paper at the envelopes still sat on his table. They looked so innocuous, just sitting there but to England, they were like a couple of time bombs waiting to go off. He brought the paper back to hide the envelopes from view but he could still feel their presence.

Finally, he could not stand to be in the same room any more so he folded up his paper and dropped it on the table beside the invitation and plane ticket and went to his bookshelf. Plucking A Christmas Carol by Charles Dickens from the shelf (because he wanted to get as far away from the 4th of July as possible), he retired to bed.

After changing into his pyjamas and brushing his teeth, England settled back on to his pillow and opened his book.

Jacob Marley was dead!

Cheerful beginning but soon England was lost in the story and the characters. The bitterness of Scrooge toward the Christmas season, Bob Cratchitt, working hard for a pittance to support his family, Scrooge's nephew trying hard to get his uncle to join him for his Christmas celebration …... England was suddenly uncomfortable with the story. There were too many parallels. Why did Scrooge's nephew have to be called FRED, of all names. England closed the book and put it down on his bedside table and lay down flat on his bed. He closed his eyes and waited for sweet oblivion to claim him. He soon felt the pull and began to fall deeper until he was in that stage between sleep and awake. He was on the verge of dreamland when …...

"This is little Britain! Get out of the town!"

England's eyes shot open to see a big man with amber eyes and dark hair with two springy curls sticking out of the top and the bottom of either side of his head. He bore a striking resemblance to the Italies and wore a toga. England's eyes widened.

"ROME!"

And that the first chapter! Watch out for my explanation of why anything to do with the Revolutionary War makes England ill. I put Rome in as the Ghost of Jacob Marley (both characters being deceased and Rome turning up at night to visit people). Well, any way I hope you enjoy this. Next chapter will be up tomorrow!

Hasta la Pasta!