Katia's note: No prizes for guessing who "Volxemort" is going to be!

Alfred's Note: shjt up kommiez ok! PS I wnot update ubtil u give me goood revows!

-USA-

The next morning I woke up in my Captain America bed with the American flag as my pillow case. I took off my American flag button-up pajamas, then put on my bomber jacket with baggy jeans. I couldn't get hold of Arthur on the phone so decided to wander around London by myself. Hopefully there would be a nearby McDonalds.

Unfortunately I wandered around for a few minutes and the closest thing I could find was an Italian resturant. It would have to do. Pizza was Italian, right...?

I went inside and there was a buffet with a sign announcing it was an "All you can eat" one. I licked my lips and didn't hesitate any longer to grab a plate. Luckily there was pizza there. I took several slices and was walking to an empty table with them on my plate when someone suddenly bumped into me. My eyes widened in horror as a slice hit my jacket, leaving a nice print of tomato puree. As if things couldn't be bad enough, it then slid off, landing face-down on the floor.

"Communist!" I shouted, but regretted it at once when I looked up into the face of a beautiful Italian guy.

"I'm so sorry. Ve~" he apologized as a faint blush crept across his features.

"That's alright. What's your name?" I asked.

"My name's Feliciano, although most people call me Italy these days," he grumbled.

I bent down to retrieve my pizza slice. Fuck hygene. Like hell I was wasting it.

"Why?"

"Because I AM Itlay." he giggled.

"Well, I'm America," I confessed.

"Really?" he whimpered, suddenly looking afraid.

"Yeah!" I roared proudly.

I invited him to my table and we sat down to talk for a while.

"So what brings you to London?" I asked, stuffing the slice into my mouth. It didn't taste too odd. Not much anyway.

"I just heard there was a lack of Italian resturants in this area of London. The last one got closed down by health and safety for having rat droppings in the food. Ve..."

I couldn't help but burst out laughing. "Oh boy! That's nasty! That's real...ew. Ahew man. I thought Italians were supposed to be good at cooking."

"Actually." he gave a shy smile. "The owners were English."

"Ah. Figures."

Speak of the devil. The resturant door opened and none other than Arthur stepped inside, looking like a total sex god in his military uniform.

"Ah, there you are Alfred," he said in his hot accent. "I've been searching all over London for you. I have a surprise for you."

"Yo thanks for the pizza," I said to Feliciano. I crammed another slice into my mouth, then got up. Arthur shook his head, tutting, but chose not to say anything.

"Goodbye. Ve ~" Italy said as I waved to him. I didn't miss the sadness in his eyes. Maybe he was jealous of me that I was going out with Arthur.

It was chilly when we got outside, but there was a little sunshine peeking out from behind the clouds. Arthur led me to his upmarket house in Knightsbridge. His hallway was dark and gloomy, but that was the least of my worries. After closing the door behind us he attacked my lips with his. I was taken aback at first, but was soon eagerly kissing back, and soon after tugging on his tie. It was difficult enough to loosen, let alone take off, so he did it for me, shirt following shortly afterwards.

Oh yeeah. I was finally gettin' laid.

Eyes half-lidded, I pulled myself away from him for a moment to admire his toned torso... but it was something on his arm that caught my attention. A tattoo, a red heart. For a completely wonderful and incredibly stupid moment my own heart fluttered at the thought of him tattooing my name on his arm like that so early into the relationship.

Then I realised it wasn't my name.

Instead, in a gothic script, was the single word: ITALY.

I stepped back, my jaw hanging open in disbelief. He might as well just have slapped me hard across the face. Soon enough, however, anger replaced shock.

"You communist!" I raged, backing away towards the door.

He looked confused for a moment, but then jumped suddenly, glancing down at his arm. He had obviously just remembered the tattoo was there. When he turned his gaze upwards to me I saw fear in his eyes.

"Alfred, please, you have to understand. I-"

"No you fucking commie!" I shouted, opening the door. "You probably have AIDs anyway!" And then I ran out.

I heard him call after me, but didn't stop running. At least not untill I reached the building where a new world meeting was taking place. (For some reason I hadn't been invited.) Everyone was listening to Japan talk about environmental issues, Italy included.

"FELICIANO VARGAS YOU MOTHERFUCKER!" I yelled.

What the hell does "ve" mean? How is it even pronounced? -_-

I hope it doesn't mean yes. As a Russian studier I get annoyed to see "da" all over the place, not making sense. I really hope I'm not doing the same thing for Italian...hehe

Stay tuned for "Volxemort" next chapter!