Phones aren't allowed!

Cuba had woken up early, set on enjoying a day at the beach and planning on trying to keep his British date a bright red the whole time. It was so amusing how red the Brit could go and Cuba had found him to actually be rather good company… well as long as you didn't mind people being cynical, which luckily for Cuba he didn't, he actually enjoyed it to some extent finding it fun how the Brit would insult and complain about everything but go through with whatever it was he was told to do… It intrigued Cuba, if he was being totally honest.

So, Cuba found his self bursting into the hotel and walking up to England's room (there wasn't any point in asking what room his was, it was his country he knew everything that went on within it including where his date was staying). He banged on the door, loudly hoping England would answer quickly and he thought he would after all it was early morning and Cuba was banging loudly on the door in the middle of a hotel lobby; if he learnt one thing about the Brit yesterday it was that the man hated making scenes; would do anything to not gain the attention of people around them.

Like he predicted England opened the door quickly, and threw Cuba in, though he looked absolutely exhausted to do such a thing; though Cuba was wide awake he couldn't blame the man, it was 6 in the morning and he had been on a plane yesterday. Though, England didn't seem to know what the time was, even though if the man looked outside it would be obviously that it was early, seeing how dark it was out there.

No, the Brit seemed more determined to get the sleep out of his eyes. The Brit walked back into his hotel room with Cuba following; being polite as to not rush the Brit too much, but eager to throw the plastic bag he had with at the blonde.

"So what are we doing today you idiotic Cuban?" England managed to mutter between a few yawns.

"Ah, you wound me England, am I so bad as to need to be insulted?" Cuba jokingly questioned his grin joyful.

"Right…" The Brit drawled before muttering something about feeling sorry for idiots, but Cuba just ignored him pushing the Brit into a chair, with a few weak protests being brought up by the Brit in question.

"Seeing as you're in my country I'll make you some food!" the Cuban cheered moving over to work in the kitchen before he heard England mutter about only wanting some tea; had wasn't hungry.

"You sure you don't want an amazing Cuban breakfast?" He got a grunt in return and Cuba went to making the Brit his drink.

After a few moments of silence, with Cuba busying his self into making the Brit his drink, while England groggily woke his self up. Moving to sit opposite the Brit he slid the drink across the table. He grinned as England thanked him and took a sip, only to glare at the grinning Nation opposite him.

"This is coffee," the Brit managed to ground out, after reluctantly drinking the awful drink.

"Yep!" Cuba cheered. "Tea wouldn't wake you up so I thought I'd use coffee, and look you're already speaking and wide awake; you've only had a sip!" And before England could attack him with the offensive coffee he handed the bag he had with him over. "There's a change of clothes in there, because I'm assuming you've only got what you're wearing right now."

The said Brit stomping off to another room to change; Cuba took the coffee and finished it off- no need to let it go to waste… and he didn't want to be attacked by scalding hot coffee once England saw what clothes Cuba had got for him.

A few minutes later England came back into the room, looking flushed with anger, embarrassment and annoyance, while Cuba leaned on the palm of his hand admiring his work. He had handed England a pair of plain shorts, sandals that wrapped up passed his ankles and a sleeveless top with I heart Cuba; the heart being formed into the Cuban flag.

"I hate you…" the embarrassed Brit, stated as Cuba walked over, and took his hand, his grin larger than before.

"Your top says otherwise!" He cheered dragging the other Nation with him; it was going to be a fun day.

It didn't take too long to get to the beach, seeing as the hotel wasn't too far away; by the time they had got there the sun was up and people had started to move about; some claiming spots on the beach to relax for the day and others slowly getting ready for work. Cuba enjoyed these moments of the day when everything wasn't too busy, but was busy enough to have people moving all over the place, when his people were waking up and leaving their dreams; were generally relaxed and didn't have a reason to be stressed yet. He also enjoyed the feeling of the sun starting to shine and warm up his land.

"So what exactly have you planned for today?" The Brit questioned after a while of wondering mindlessly.

"Well, I thought we should enjoy the beach and get you a tan, you're so ghostly pale England!" Cuba had to hold back a laugh as he saw the Brit grit his teeth from saying something obviously offensive.

"Don't you think it would be obvious that I haven't been in my own country if I turn up to the next World meeting with a tan?" the Brit questioned absentmindedly as he looked around, not really having had the chance to see the beaches of Havana since his pirating days, and they had obviously changed since them.

"I thought you were planning to stay a few days not till the end of the week?" Cuba questioned, for once actually keeping count of the days till the next meeting, seeing as how it was being held at his friend's place this time around; Canada was greatly excited believing he wouldn't be invisible if the meeting was held in his own country; England had planned to leave way before then probably in the hopes of being able to get ready and catch up with the work he missed… and probably to escape the Cuban, but Cuba was going to ignore that suggestion.

"Yes, but for someone as ghostly pale, as you so kindly put it, as I am I'd keep the tan for at least a month before it fades away!" He snapped clearly not pleased by the prospect.

"Anyways England," the Cuban Nation continued as though he hadn't heard the comment. "Don't you want people to find out, so you can win quicker and end our phony relationship… unless of course-"

"No, I don't enjoy our phony relationship at all. So far all I've gotten is a headache." The Brit interrupted before Cuba could finish of his sentence.

"And a T-shirt!" Cuba grinned, while England rolled his eyes.

He opened his mouth about to retort that he wasn't going to keep the T-Shirt, when he froze as a tune by Queen started playing. He quickly took his phone out and was about to answer before Cuba snatched it away.

"Ah, ah, ah, you're on a date meaning you're not allowed to take phone calls!" The Cuban turned the Brit's phone off, before pocketing it, grinning over at the other who didn't look amused.

"Oh and what if something terrible happened to my country?" England questioned, very much un-amused.

"Then you would've felt it already," Cuba pointed out starting to pull England along with him onto the actual sand now, he was going to make England enjoy his self whether the Brit did so willingly or not.

"It might've not been directly linked to me though," the Brit tried to protest; only to get Cuba to stop and turn to him; his grin seemed to have grown.

"England, England, England, you need to calm down, and cool off, it was probably nothing…" Cuba put his arm the Brits shoulders; leaned them forward slightly. "Lucky we're at the beach isn't it?"

And before England could retort he found his self being pushed forward as Cuba moved back slightly so he couldn't be clung to; stop the Brit falling forward. The Brit in question did fall forward after failing at trying to get his balance back; fell into the water with a resounding splash.

After a few seconds England found his self glaring up at the offered hand the grinning Cuba was offering him, his blonde hair plastered to his face; his clothes stuck to him.

"Need a hand there, England?" In answer he got water splashed at his face; the Brit pull his self out of the water.

"I need to dry off…" The Brit stated, grimacing as he looked down at the clothes sticking to his body- wet clothing… it never felt nice.

"Aren't you lucky I planned for us to stay at the beach all day?" He questioned, taking the Brits hand again; dragging him over to an empty spot, the city life starting to fully circulate now; the beach was beginning to fill up.

The Brit didn't say anything, just sat down and leaned back on his arms, hoping to dry off quickly. Cuba lay down next to him and sprawled out, enjoying the rays that shone against his skin and his land; the gentle ocean breeze that blew his hair to one side- he generally loved his country.

Looking over at England, he noticed the man had his eyes closed and was enjoying the rays and breeze; Cuba guessed he probably should have realised England would after all he had been a pirate as Spain reminded him every other day when he was younger. And although the man looked calm, Cuba was pretty sure he was annoyed over the phone incident and then pushing him into the water…

He grinned as he thought of a way to make-up for it. Getting up and promising to back in a second he went off to get his plan; returned a few seconds later with some vanilla ice-cream; passed it to the Brit, who raised a brow in question.

"Ice-cream is the best way to say sorry!" Cuba cheered.

"Oh, and what are you saying sorry for?" The Brit questioned.

"Well… I would say the phone, but I'm not sorry for that, imagining if it was an annoyed American who was phoning is too funny… and I'd get greatly bored if you were to ignore me on our date, dates need good communication skills…" Cuba stopped speaking when he saw the look England was giving him before getting back on topic. "So it's a sorry for making you look like a drowned cat."

The Brit flushed.

"I didn't look like a drowned cat!" He yelled in defence. "I used to be a pirate and I'm an Island Nation like you, I'm plenty used to the sea!"

"You still looked like one!" Cuba grinned and flicked some of England's hair out of his eyes. "With the hair going flat against your face and the un-amused scowl, I'd definitely compare you to a grouchy drowned cat!"

The Brit went to protest, then shook his head; went to his ice-cream before it started melting and would be wasted on his hands. He mumbled a grateful thanks and went back to enjoying the beach life, now with the extra added delight of ice-cream.

Cuba grinned, as he saw a slight blush cross the Brit's face; joined him in watching his city. They spent the rest of the day like that just generally relaxed, with Cuba teasing the other every now and then, with the Brit arguing back and throwing insults Cuba's way.

When everything finally started getting darker, Cuba dragged England back to his hotel; kissing the palm of the flushed Brit's hand and keeping eye contact hoping to embarrass the Brit even more (which it did). He bid his farewell to England and promised to give him his phone back after tomorrows date and no sooner.

As Cuba reached the edge of the corner he looked back, to see the Brit entering his hotel shaking his head as though not knowing what to think of Cuba's actions; the Caribbean Nation found his self grinning as he thought of his earlier statement. The Brit was most definitely interesting… a little difficult to understand, but then Cuba thought that just made him all the more interesting…

And there we have the third chapter! And I was panicking about this chapter, because for some unexplainable reason I always fail at writing the third chapters of stories, when I get passed them I'm fine, but it's always the annoying third chapter that gets me! But after a few paragraphs of this chapter I was whizzing away; rather enjoying it! Well, I hope you enjoy… I don't believe I have anything else to say right now… so until next chapter peoples!