8 Simple Rules 3
America pulled up to Australia's house in the car he'd rented at the airport. He was never going to get used to driving on the left side of the road. Never. He sighed, leaning back in his seat, willing his grip on the wheel to loosen. It wasn't like he was trying to drive into that oncoming traffic! He didn't understand why everyone had to honk at him like that. He'd had the whole thing under control.
He looked at the passenger seat of his car, where he had a single red rose. He had considered getting a whole bouquet of flowers, since that was the typical thing to do when wooing someone. Of course, Australia was very decidedly male – and a damned fine one at that - so America decided one would be enough to be symbolic of the gesture.
He picked up the rose and got out of the car, running through the rules England had emailed to him mentally for what felt like the 100th time that day. It might have been. He'd read he email time and again the entire flight over. So far, he was pretty sure that he was doing a damned good job of following them.
Rule 1: If you pull into the driveway and honk, you'd better be delivering something, because you sure as hell are not picking anyone up.
Now see there? He'd turned off the car and gotten out of it. That was one less rule he had to worry about. The rules as a whole were absolutely ridiculous, but if this is what he had to do to get his long desired date with Australia, he'd take it! All he needed was this one date to finally get what he'd wanted for more than a hundred years now. He rang the doorbell and waited as he heard shuffling around. He looked down at himself, checking his appearance again. With polished black shoes, black slacks, a pressed navy blue shirt and tie, there was nothing England could fault him with. Also, he looked pretty damned good, if he did say so himself.
Rule 2: I am aware that it is considered fashionable for boys in your country to wear their trousers so loosely that they appear to be falling off their hips. Please DO take this as an insult when I say that you and all of your people are complete idiots. Still, I want to be fair and open minded about this issue, so I propose this compromise: You may come to the door with your underwear showing and your pants ten sizes too big, and I will not object. However, in order to ensure that your clothes do not, in fact come off during the course of you date with my colony; I will take my electric nail gun and fasten your trousers securely in place to your waist.
Sure enough, England proved his intent to make America's life miserable by being the one to open the door. America smiled brightly as England took in his appearance, scowling.
"Well, what do you know? Miracles do happen. You almost look like a passably respectable nation. Consider me absolutely astonished." England turned, leaving America to let himself in and close the door. "I told Australia to take his time getting ready, because I wanted to see how well you could follow the rules. I believe he invited New Zealand over for some video games. Why don't you have a seat?"
America just continued to smile as he walked over, sitting on the sofa.
England walked into the kitchen, and emerged a moment later, setting a glass of water in front of America. "So, we may as well get the basics out of the way. Where are you taking Australia?"
"Summit Restaurant."
England nodded a bit. "Ah, so you're going out to the Lookout. I hear the views are very nice there." He shot a look at America, who just nodded quickly. "I imagine he'll want to show you around the area after you eat. That's fine. When will you have him back home by?"
"…Early." England nodded in approval.
America covered a sigh in the form of exhaling into his cup as he took a sip of water.
Rule 3: It is usually understood that in order for us to break the ice, we should talk about sports, politics, and other issues of the day. Please do not do this. I already know more about you and current affairs than I care to. Your "sports" are an utter abomination. The only information I require from you is an indication of when you expect to have my colony safely back at the house, and the only word I need from you on this subject is: "early."
Rule 4: The following places are not appropriate for a date with my colony: Places where there are beds, sofas, or anything softer than a wooden stool. Places where there is darkness. Places where there are dancing, holding hands, or happiness. Places where the ambient temperature is warm enough to introduce my colony to wear shorts, tank tops, or anything other than slacks and a sweater. Movies with a strong romantic or sexual theme are to be avoided; movies which feature chain saws are okay. Hockey games are okay. Cricket matches are better. No. Not the bug.
America slowly sipped his water as England picked up his cross-stitching and went back to work. He willed himself not to look at the clock as fifteen minutes turned into thirty. Upstairs, he could hear the loud yells of Australia and New Zealand playing some kind of fighting game. From what he could tell, Australia was winning. That was good. It would be better if New Zealand would get the hell out so he could go on his date, but he wasn't complaining. Not at all. How were relations between their countries again? He could already feel his tourists considering going elsewhere. That wasn't his fault. Nope. It's obviously the result of the poor economy. Who could afford to go to New Zealand? Who would want to anyway? You could go to any sheep farm in America and have the same experience. The clock chimed on the wall. An hour had passed, and there was no indication that Australia was even getting ready for their date.
Rule 5: As you sit in the living room, waiting for my colony to appear, and more than an hour goes by, do not sigh and fidget. If you want to be on time for your plans, you should not be dating. My colony is styling his hair, a process than can take longer than painting your Golden Gate Bridge.
Sometimes, America really hated England.
