AN: I really do love Alfred, he is so adorable...but I made him silly...but I promise I really do love him.

In a rare moment for America, he let his brother take the lead as they trekked through the forest. Alfred loved camping and being in the outdoors, but they were in Canada and he was well aware that his brother was the expert in his own country. Plus, he knew that Mattie would find them the best campsite in the history of ever!

Stopping near a nice bend in the river he had been following, Canada pulled his pack off and set it on the ground. "This looks good, eh?" Matthew turned and looked at his older brother who was kneeling in the dirt just off the trail. "Um, Al," the Canadian spoke up, "What are you doing?"

"Just hanging out with this awesome squirrel," America grinned. "Check it—I think he's hungry."

"Well don't feed it," Canada wandered over to where his brother was crouched. "It's not safe and it makes them rely on human food and that can lead to—" Canada cut himself off with a yelp as he peered over America's shoulder to see what creature had captured his brother's attention.

It was a skunk.

"Al," Canada said softly, "back away from the skunk."

"What?" American squinted at Canada. "It's a squirrel."

"It's not a squirrel," Canada was now about ten feet away and still moving.

"Yeah," America nodded confidently. "I'm pretty sure it's a squirrel."

"Have you ever seen a squirrel?" Canada asked.

"Yeah, they're everywhere, aren't they?" America was now patting the skunk as though it were a puppy. "Besides, one time, Italy found a squirrel and he told me they have big bushy tails. This little dude has a big bushy tail. Squirrel."

Canada almost expected his brother to pantomime a mic drop after that last word…and he was not disappointed. "Yes, well, Alfred," Canada spoke slowly. "That is not a squirrel. It is a skunk. The fuzzy forest creatures that spray you with a foul-smelling…" he trailed off as America jumped back and joined him standing now about twenty feet from the waddling black and white animal.

"Dude!" America looked at him accusingly. "Why didn't you say it was a skunk? Those things are freaky!"

Canada simply shook his head. There was no correcting America. He was always right. "Jeez Al," he asked, "How big are the squirrels in America?"

"I don't know, forty pounds or something," Alfred was already moving on to the next order of business. "Hey, you're right Mattie, this place looks great! We even have a little pool!" America skipped up toward the river which had formed a small natural reservoir about the size of a hot tub, next to the shore. It was surrounded by smooth stones and what looked like organic clay.

Canada smiled at his brother's reaction. This was his favorite place to camp. He came up to this area of the river quite often and even got Gil to come out with him a few times. Canada knew that America would love the little pool. He was really proud to show his brother how amazing Canada could be. Perhaps if America had a good time this weekend he might stop making fun of Canada so much. It wasn't Matthew's fault that he had amazing scenery, free healthcare, legalized gay marriage, excellent hockey players and (let's be honest) a lot of Hollywood talent…he understood that sometimes Alfred may feel a bit jealous of how amazing Canada was—but that didn't mean he had to make fun of everything Matthew did.

"We can set up camp and then make dinner," Matthew suggested, pleased that his brother looked so happy.

"Yeah," America nodded eagerly. "That sounds great! I'm hungry!"

"Tents first," Canada insisted.

He may be the younger brother, but just about everyone would agree that he was also the more responsible one. Not much unlike Prussia and Germany. Canada smiled a bit thinking about his boyfriend. He was well aware of the fact that he got on so well with Prussia because Prussia and America were very similar. That was probably why Gilbert and Arthur were such good friends as well. Arthur and Matthew were used to boisterous, energetic, slightly egotistical, and occasionally obnoxious nations. Made perfect sense if you took into account the whole 'opposites attract' thing.

Although, Canada wasn't entirely convinced that America and England were all that different. He had heard France talk about the things that England used to get up to back when the sun never set on his empire. Alfred was like that as well. Arthur may have settled down a bit as his colonies left, but there was still the occasional twinkle in his eyes that let Canada know, the British Empire was far from docile. England and his brother were probably more alike than anyone suspected.

It didn't take very long for Canada to set up his tent on some relatively flat ground and unpack his few belongings. Noticing that the makeshift fire pit he had created a few months ago had started to topple, he began to restack the stones, watching as America struggled with his tent.

"Need any help there Al?" Canada asked politely.

"Nope, I'm great," the American insisted. It took him a few more moments but he managed to get his tent pegged into the ground and stood back to look at it proudly. Canada had a very nice all-weather two person tent in a neutral olive-green. America's tent was easily an eight person, vaulted roof tent that Alfred had clearly lost the rain cover for and was done up in a print of the American flag. Canada was not surprised in the least. He grinned a little as his brother admired his handiwork.

"Been a long time since I had to put up a tent," America stated as he plopped down next to his brother on the dirt. "Good thing I was an Eagle Scout and know everything about the forest," he grinned.

"Everything except what a skunk looks like," Canada stated. He knew that America wouldn't hear him, so he didn't even bother to whisper.

"What are we eating?" America questioned.

"I have some canned stuff we can heat over the fire and hot dogs," Canada reached behind him and tossed a small bag at America. Alfred dug greedily into the sack and pulled out the food Canada had provided.

"Awesome dude," he nodded his approval. "Oscar Mayer—only the best is made in the US of A, right?" Alfred grinned at his brother. "I brought s'mores."

"That's it?" Canada looked a bit disappointed. "That's the only food you brought. Just s'mores?"

America laughed and ran his hand through his blonde hair. "No way dude," he grinned. "I 'borrowed' Iggy's flask. I dumped out his crappy rum and added something amazing—I've got bourbon too!"

"Oh," Matthew attempted a smile, which was actually a grimace. "That's…that's really great."

There was a very good chance that this would be a long three days.

AN: As for America being kind of spazzy about camping and the forest and all that—I just felt as though, for the purpose of this story, that he is just a teensy bit self-centered and while he does know what a skunk is etc etc etc he is a bit out of his element in Canada adding in the bourbon-poor America…he's just being ridiculous this time around. I love him though, he is so cute and adorable and it is just way too easy to make him seem kind of silly.