Disclaimer: We don't own Hetalia.

"Captain! Get the fuck off the runt!"

Evelyn hurried to catch up coming to stand beside the girl. The red-head was unfamiliar, but the short, but still taller than her, blonde sitting on him was very much familiar.

Dude, what is Iggy doing?

Looks like trying to kill the kid. Evelyn watched as Arthur snapped out of his trance looking around him, confused.

"Oh! Paddy, I'm dreadfully sorry... What is going on here, again?" he questioned staring imploringly at the younger who he was still sitting on.

"You were getting off of me," the red-head wheezed. He looked similar to Arthur-the eyebrows being the most outstanding feature, but the dark red hair was more like Scotland's.

"Oh! Quite right! Cheerio!" Arthur rolled off of the kid before sitting up and crossing his legs. America watched as Arthur tried to defend himself against Amelia's questioning. It was strange to see the Brit so unlike his usual stuffy self.

This must be the brother I haven't met yet, Evelyn commented internally.

Alfred shrugged. If it makes you feel better, I've never seen him either. I was a little preoccupied with other things though.

Like starting fights you couldn't win?

No one else was stopping that Commie bastard!

Yeah, yeah...

"I love you Paddy, you're my favorite, always." He then proceeded to lunge hug the younger brother before a slight snore tore through the air.

Evelyn, who had been smiling to herself, suddenly sobered. Who was what now?

Hahaha! I'm his favorite! He's lying in his drunken stupor and thinks I'm there.

Evelyn rolled her eyes. Yeah, that's why he always sides with me, moron.

He's not siding with you now! He just declared that brat his favorite.

We'll see about that!

I'm still his favorite. Alfred grumbled silently.

Pfft. You're not even in the running. Australia and his demon koala are beating you, so just be quiet.

Iggy... He whined pathetically.

"Of course I didn't tell him the MI6 called wanting a time and I may have told them freaking early in the morning as petty revenge for Arthur not letting me get my newest video game." Patrick made an 'I'm innocent' face to go with his story.

Alfred snorted. Please, I invented that look!

Yeah, but I perfected it. Evelyn smirked before tuning back into the conversation.

"Well that explains the outfit, and I bet you learned a lesson too huh?" Amelia continued to smirk.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, don't sneak up on Arthur while he's sleeping. No matter how many times I've had to be saved when I try, I shall keep trying and one day I'll win." He nodded his head communicating his perceived awesomeness.

"Hahahah, you are so a Kirkland. Anyway I brought a guest." She held out her hand to Evelyn. "Guest meet Mattress and Sleeper. Mattress, Sleeper meet guest." Amelia had a shit eating grin on her face the whole time she spoke.

"The name's Patrick Kirkland. So do you want to stick around and play with us, Amelia, Guest?" Patrick gave them the puppy eyes. Arthur gave a little snore. Evelyn bit her lip trying to contain her laughter at the loopy and unconscious Brit.

"Sure, name's Evelyn by the way. Want some help getting him off?" She nodded toward the unconscious Englishman using the kid as a pillow.

"I could play a nice little game of war. It'll be fun." Amelia chirped up. She unbuttoned her bulky navy officer jacket and left herself in a just a grey tank top."Of course you'll have to provide the weaponry; mine would most definitely leave more than a few men dead."

Patrick tried to get out from under his older (smaller) brother to no avail. He looked to the American pathetically.

Looks like the brat needs a hero!

Do you really need to declare it every time we help someone? Evelyn asked unimpressed as she picked up Arthur under each arm. She heaved him up and back grunting slightly with the effort. She had underestimated the Englishman's weight; not that he was overly heavy, but he wasn't as light as he appeared either.

"Boy, Artie needs to lay off the scones. He's heavier than he looks." She adjusted her grip laying Arthur down gently in the grass noticing Amelia hauling Patrick up, not unkindly, by the collar of his shirt.

"How'd you know his name?" Patrick asked a little hostile as he glared at Evelyn. He looked younger than her, but his light green eyes belied his true age; he had seen and experienced a lot more than the new America. No matter how many memories of Alfred's she had seen, her own eyes would never reflect the darkness Patrick's hid.

Evelyn rubbed the back of her neck. Why wouldn't she know his name? She had only stayed with him for a few months, but, for some reason, she said, "Amelia told me before we got here." Amelia turned and looked at her, eyes narrowing slightly, but she didn't say anything. Evelyn cleared her throat choosing to change the subject. "So, Nerf war huh? Got any extra guns?"

Patrick eyes lit up as a shit eating grin crossed his face."Yep, sure do. Since your hu... a gir..." Evelyn raised an eyebrow noticing as he corrected himself quickly. Could he not sense she was a nation? "An American, I'll let you have the guns instead of the grenades and short range weaponry." He nervously rubbed the back of his head and moved back towards the porch. America bristled at the implied insult behind the ginger's words. Just because the New World nation preferred guns, didn't mean he didn't know how to use other weapons.

Approaching one of the stationary box benches, Patrick flipped the lid open revealing more of the plastic weaponry.

Evelyn's eyes lit up. She had played war games with the Secret Service before, but playing with Artie and his brother had to take the game to a whole new level. She surveyed the choices briefly before snatching up a revolver and shotgun with the extra ammunition. She could feel Alfred's disapproval as he forcefully pushed her aside reaching for his own weapon of choice-a sniper rifle-attaching all the weapons and extra clips to her belt and against her back.

If you want to survive in a game with nations, you have to be prepared. He told her as he worked.

You sound like Artie. She pouted. The girl had yet to win any of her sparring matches against the Brit without Alfred's help.

Who do you think taught me?

She pushed his consciousness to the side in retaliation. Evelyn pulled back the cocking mechanism on the revolver striking a pose reminiscent of the romanticised view of cowboys in the Old West. "Let's do this!"

"I hope you know how to do more than pull a trigger. MI6 guys are pretty elite." Patrick gave her a smug smile.

Alfred pushed her aside more than a little peeved that his skills were being underestimated...again. The last time that happened was during World War I and he had shown them! He laughed, his influence forcing Evelyn's voice into the deeper tones. "Ha! I'm the best gunman on either side of the Pond. This'll be a piece of cake." Evelyn shoved him back, annoyed at how often the other America was taking control without asking today. They had established this; it was her body damn it! "And so modest too." She muttered under her breath.

"I wouldn't really call calling yourself the best is modest on any level." Patrick raised one of his thick eyebrows at her.

"It's called sarcasm." Evelyn snapped.

"So, you suck?"

"I didn't say that either." The American defended herself leveling her best "Arthur glare" at the teenage nation.

"But you said it was sarcasm so if you were being sarcastic about being good you must suck. Are all Americans this dumb?" The glare did not affect any of the Kirkland brothers who were used to such looks.

"Watch who you're calling dumb runt!"

"I'm taller than you, idiot!"

"I'm older! So, you're a runt."

"And you leathcheann dúr"

"Brat neamhaibí!" Evelyn responded unconsciously slipping into Irish.

"You speak Irish? That's so cool! Ydych chi'n siarad Cymraeg?"

"Sorry, I think you're asking me if I speak Welsh, but not entirely sure. Cymru is the old name for Wales right? So, Cymreag would be Welsh...don't think America has had enough Welsh immigration for that..."

In a moment of grace only Patrick could pull off, the kid tripped over nothing while not moving. This spun him in an almost half circle giving him a view of Amelia and Arthur at the fountain.

"You're not going to drown my brother in his own fountain, are you?" Patrick gave her a rather questioning look.

"I was planning on it." Amelia chirped back with a smug smile.

"I thought you and Artie were friends?" Evelyn asked dumbfounded. "Normal people don't drown their friends."

"Whoever said I was normal, sweet stuff?" Amelia added teeth to her wicked looking smile, eyes shining with a manicness bordering on insanity .

"In that case, I'll just have to save him from you Because I'm a hero!" Alfred declared as he pushed her aside, smirking.

"Oops." Amelia retorted as she pushed Arthur backwards straight into the fountain.

"He's going to be pissed...and cold." Patrick frowned looking at the ground.

"Artie!" Evelyn raced forward pulling the Englishman out by his collar. Alfred pushed the stunned consciousness aside (she didn't think Amelia would actually do it) positioning the Brit so he wouldn't fall in again.

"Dude, you need to pick your friends better. Psycho chicks do not make good friends." He shot a mental look at Evelyn before squashing the thought.

You did not just insinuate that I'm a "psycho chick." She said threateningly.

"Hey, I resent that you bit..." Amelia began hostilely.

Patrick prevented the fight before it could begin. He tripped over his own feet and face-planted in Amelia's chest.

"Hello, Patrick. Nice of you to drop by." Patrick's hand went almost immediately to Amelia's shoulders as he stood up stumbling backwards.

"I'm sorry! I'm sorry!" the poor overly red face nation cried out.

"What the bloody hell is going on here?!" Arthur spoke up still in in Evelyn's hold. "Patrick are you molesting Amelia?"

"Wha..." Amelia cut Patrick off with a loud laugh.

"Glad to see you're awake, Cap'n! Poor Patrick just tripped over his feet. Poor kid." She wrapped her arms around Patrick pulling him into a light hug making the teen-aged nation go even redder. "When you grow into them you won't trip as much, promise." She smiled at Patrick before turning back to Arthur. "Have a nice dip?" She smirked at him.

"You just tried to drown him. How do you think he feels?" Evelyn snapped helping the sopping wet Brit out. She really didn't know what Amelia's game was and it was starting to annoy her.

A/N: Poor Evelyn, pissing off Amelia and it's not even really her. Oh well...Reviews are loved!