Disclaimer: Hetalia is not mine.

I think at this point I'd like to point out that I sometimes change details in my stories after I've published them. I'll look back through what I've written and realize that something I've said conflicts with something I want to do later, or that I could make a scene funnier by changing something around.

I'll explain why I'm mentioning this now at the bottom.

But anyway, back to the craziness!

Man, is there no END to these things? And I'd thought I'd finally gotten away, too…

America quickly shut the door behind him before realizing that he'd seen …himself… standing in the middle of the room.

But no hero should be indecisive. Despite the zaniness of the situation, he charged straight ahead.

"Yo. You wouldn't happen to know what's going on, would you?"

"Yo?" England cringed. Yeah, that's America, all right. Fuck.

"Actually, I was going to ask you pretty much the same question. It's England, by the way."

Several moments passed in silence before America summed the situation up.

"Well…this is awkward."

At which England decided to expand the summary slightly.

"No, really? We've swapped bodies with each other, for apparently no reason at all, in the middle of the night. We have no idea how to fix this. We have a world meeting on Tuesday, and I have no doubt that there are plenty of people there who would either a) mock us mercilessly, or worse, b) immediately try to use the situation to their benefit. This wouldn't be quite so bad, except I've swapped with YOU and that means that to hide this whole thing (and stall for time) I'd have to act like a total IMBECILE, and that's assuming that YOU could POSSIBLY fool half the WORLD into thinking you're me-and let me tell you, if it weren't actually happening to me, I'd be laughing my head off at the prospect, because you're just bound to fail miserably, or even worse, fail miserably but convincingly enough that said half the world thinks I've gone bonkers. I've spent half the morning wondering what the heck you might have been getting up to all this time, and now I'm here, feeling like I'm looking in a mirror except creepier because I know I'm not, and it's constantly reminding me of just how messed up this situation is, and just how impossible it seems to fix it."

For a second, England thought he'd impressed upon America the full seriousness of the situation.

"Aah, come on. It can't be all bad."

England was about to point out just how wrong that was when he realized that there was one thing nice about the whole situation.

"Yeah," he said smugly, reaching out to tussle his (well, at the moment, America's) hair. "I'm taller than you now."

"Hey! Stop that!"

England obliged, partly out of courtesy, and partly because it felt rather weird. America just looked so…uptight. Offended. The way England would have looked if someone had done the same to him. It wasn't at all like America.

America looked up and seemed to notice something. England was then vaguely disturbed to see what he looked like grinning mischievously. That was a little bit too much like America.

"What's so funny?" England asked, now annoyed.

"Oh, it's just that you're always getting mad about me being overzealous and stuff, but you've been me for a few hours and you've already broken into someone's house through the window."

England almost hit him before realizing that America had a point. Of course, he wasn't exactly pointless either.

"I did it because I heard you screaming your head off, idiot!"

And he had the satisfaction of seeing America go straight from smug to horrified.

Not one to let such an opportunity pass, England continued. "And-

"Shhh! Not now. It might have heard us!" America interrupted in a low, panicked voice that England also found rather disturbing. "…and I don't see any other doors leading out of this room," he added, even more panicked, now looking back at the door he came in.

Suddenly, America froze. England looked at the door, wondering what the heck had scared him stiff.

Then America screamed. Again. My ears…!

And then he headed for the window.

"Oh, no you don't," England practically growled. That's one of my favorite outfits, and I just know you'll manage to destroy it on that glass.

So he grabbed America and wrenched him away from the window. The latter, in his terrified panic, struck out wildly and didn't really end up putting up much of a resistance.

"Let me goooooooooo!" America wailed. "That ghost is getting closer!"

"Calm down, you blasted moron! There's nothing there!"

"Have you gone blind?"

"Crud, America, everyone knew you were crazy, but I didn't think you were delusional!"

America suddenly went very still again, his eyes fixed on something just in front of England's face. This was, of course, because the ghost had heard England call America just that, and was now trying to ask him what the heck was going on (and, naturally, if he was England). When it became evident that the effort was futile, it turned back towards America, who promptly started screaming again.

It was about then that England figured it out.

I can't see them, he realized numbly. America's screaming about one of my friends, but I'm him, and I can't see anything. Even in my own house. I can't see my friends.

Realizing that England had relaxed his grip (if not understanding why), America wormed his way free and nearly got out the window before England snapped out of it and grabbed him again.

"Ummm, ghost?" England addressed the empty room, "Could you please leave for a second so America can think rationally (well, more rationally than this)?"

It must have complied, because America relaxed. A little. England let him go.

At which point he went straight out the open window, tearing the outfit in the process.

Bastard.

A/N:

I mentioned that I'll occasionally go back and change details in my stories. I'm doing that now because England mentioned a date for the world meeting-which is, as of the writing of this note, Tuesday-which has already changed three times and has a very high chance of being changed again.

So, in general, if at some point you think 'wait… isn't that wrong?' about a detail in one of my works, there's a good chance it's because I changed something in an earlier chapter.

I felt the need to explain this because it's the sort of thing that would get on my nerves if I didn't know, and because I'm not sure this is standard procedure for fanfic or not-for instance, the author of Uninvited Guests (Funniest Bleach Fanfic ever. See my profile.) openly declared that since he wasn't publishing the fic for a book or anything, he wasn't going to go back and rewrite a chapter that was originally written at 2:00 am (and thus was not of the typical high quality).

But yeah…logic aside, please review!