A/N: Yay for faster uploads! (and less French mistakes…..) Enough babbling, onto the story!

o.V.o

Saturday

England woke up to prepare for his day with America. He jumped into the shower –twice-, scrubbed his mouth clean –three times-, and changed clothes –four times- before he was finally able to make himself pretend to be indifferent.

He checked the time and came to the conclusion that an hour was plenty of time to enjoy a nice cup of mint tea.

While he sipped the tea from a delicate cup, he did not allow himself to think how nice his breath would smell with the minty aroma.

He would not allow himself to imagine how America's breathe might small and taste or the feel of his lips.

He did not fall into a daydream about a warm hand holding his or how pleasant the evening could end.

So there was no way that he jumped in embarrassment and blush his head off when his doorbell rang. Nope, his tablecloth was covered in tea because his hand slipped, that was all.

Muttering a few choice British curses (mostly revolving about bloody wankers), he made his way to the door, pausing only to straighten his tie and smooth back his hair…. Again….. before running a hand through it, trying to convince himself that it was just America.

The bell rang again. "Wait just a moment!" England yelled before opening the door to… A large bouquet of red roses?

He blinked in amassment, looking to see a smiling American. "Hey England, these are for you." He muttered (shyly?) before offering the roses to England.

The Brit blinked again and took them. He reflexively brought them to his nose and blushed when he found they were real roses. "What for?"

"Well… You like them, right?" America asked, meeting the smaller nation's gaze.

When the sky blue eyes met England's (bashfully?) from under his glasses, the Brit turned a dark shade of pink before he hid his face behind the roses.

"Y-Yes…. Thank you… Let me go put these in a vase real quickly…" He muttered before running back into the house.

He found a large, crystal vase that he deemed perfect and put the roses gently into it. He was about to walk back to where he was sure the American would be loafing around but paused. "Wait a bloody minute…"

He examined the roses closer, looking for any hidden traps. He checked them over twice then gave up with a scowl when nothing was found; still thoroughly convinced something was up.

He made his way back to the living room and was surprised that America wasn't there. He checked the doorway again and found the American. "Was there a bomb or something on those?" England asked suspiciously.

"Um… No? Why?"

"You're not a parasite on my couch. You are outside and somewhat safe from any explosion."

"You didn't invite me in and told me to wait."

"Then the roses won't do anything uncommon for them?"

"No... I just thought you'd like them." America admitted shyly, refusing to meet the Brit's gaze.

"Stop acting as if you're lying and look me in the face then." England scolded, although he secretly enjoyed how cute America looked. Like he used to be before….

America obeyed and looked him in the eyes with a smile. "I got them 'cause I thought you'd like them."

England's eyes widened before his face burned again and he took his turn to avoid the other's eyes. "Come on… Let's go…"

"So do you like them?"

"Yes, you git. Now let's go!" England grabbed America's hand and led him to the bright red abomination in his driveway, momentarily forgetting the way American cars were made.

He sat in the driver's seat and stared in confusion at the wheel that he found there. "Wha…?"

America snorted in his attempt to stifle his laughter.

England glared at the younger nation and muttered "Idiotic Americans and their lack of blueprints…" before going to the correct passenger side.

America grinned and took the driver's seat, now with a lack of British confusion. He pulled out of the driveway and stayed silent for a while besides the soft background music of hard rock.

"This better not be a trick for a double date." England finally threatened.

"It's a date, but it's only us going." America admitted.

"Okay…" England processed what was said. "Wait, this is a date? As in, you and me?" he asked as his heart stopped.

"Guess you're gonna have to wait til we get there before I tell ya." America teased.

England's heart began to beat again (abnormally but functional) and he growled. "Wanker."

America laughed at his little curse. "I would answer, but it could be taken the wrong way."

The Brit blushed and went quiet, content on just ignoring the idiot driving and focusing on the passing scenery.

Occasional buildings faded into trees and the road got bumpier and older the further they went. The only interruption of the trees was an occasional meadow. Half an hour of silence went by and still no stop in sight. "Where is 'there' anyway?" England finally asked, glaring at yet another tree.

"You'll see, it's not that far now. Just around that curve over there."

The curve came and went but before England could snap, a vast lake stretched before them.

Its blue water was glistening like stars in the warm sunlight. Luscious green hills rolled around it and in the distance a large, crooked mountain of gray rose into the misty clouds. The wind chose to pick up that moment, making the long grass sway as if there were hidden mysteries dancing among them.

The sound of a car door shutting brought England back from his daze. He reluctantly got out of the car to follow America, now loaded with a cooler and bag, to a lone tree that stood only yards away from the lake's shore.

The objects were placed in the shade of the tree and a large blanket was produced from the bag to be spread on the ground. America smiled and motioned for England to sit down while producing two plastic cups.

England complied and was met with a cup with white wine. He raised an eyebrow at America but accepted the beverage. He took a small sip of the liquid before he heard a mutter.

"Shit, I forgot the charcoal in the trunk… BRB." America dashed back to the car. England, curious by what charcoal would be needed for, peeked into the bag and found a mini grill, ready to be put together. He checked the cooler, suspecting something and….

He found hamburger meat and sighed.

"Oh well…. I'll deal with it… for today…"

America returned with a large bag of charcoal over his shoulder. "Are you sure you need that much for such a small grill?" England asked, motioning to the small grill.

"Probably not. But at least I won't run out." America pointed out, placing the bag down.

England rolled his eyes. "Alright, what do you need? Who did you piss off this time?" He was met with shocked eyes.

"How did you know I ticked someone off?"

England rolled his eyes once again. "You're being nice and you're always annoying someone."

America did a little "Oh" shape with his mouth. "Yeah, I am always ticking peeps off," he joked then added seriously "but that's not why I'm taking you on a date."

"So wait… This is a date?"

"Yeah. Just me and you so… a date. You don't mind do you?" America stopped playing with his grill as he waited for the respond.

England blushed and refused to meet America's eyes. "Sure… I guess…"

When he finally looked up, he saw America smiling at him and his own heart started to pound. God damn it! I need to stop being affected so easily… he scolded himself.

Oblivious to England's little self-argument, America replied "Sweet!" and put so meat on the now prepared grill.

Silence stroked and made the atmosphere awkward (on England's part, America can never sense the mood to save his life) so England said the first thing that came to mind.

"So…. The weather…."

"Yeah, it's totally perfect for an American cook-out, huh?"

"And it's nice; it accents the lake and the far-off mountains."

"Huh? Oh right, now that you mention it, it does make them look cool."

"How did you even find this place?" England was prepared for the most idiotic response imaginable.

"Actually, this is a place my old boss, Teddy, set aside. He found it and told me how it was like a favorite legend of mine." America admitted.

England tried his hardest to remember a legend from America, of all places, that had such a beautiful setting not marred by war. When his mind drew a blank, he finally asked what America was waiting for. "What myth?"

"The legend of the Lady of the Lake, you know, King Arthur and all that."

England's jaw would have hit the ground had it not been firmly attached to his face. "King Arthur?"

"Yep."

"B-But, I thought you hated Arthur and that stuff?" England exclaimed, angered at his own confusion.

"No." America then muttered something that included "in love with" and "Arthur of sorts."

"What?"

"Burger?" America offered, holding out a plate with a large burger and potato chips.

"No, I do not want a hamburger, I want to know what you said!"

"Wine?" America asked, placing the refused plate aside and holding up the bottle.

"Are you trying to get me drunk? And no, I don't want any more wine!"

"Afraid you can't hold as much alcohol as me?" the younger nation challenged with a smirk.

England glared at the pesky nuisance for questioning his tolerance and grabbed the bottle away. "I drink more than you any day." He growled before chugging half of the bottle.

America laughed at how childish England was acting before bringing out a hidden bottle of rum from his pack. "Wanna make a bet?" he asked sadistically, uncorking the bottle.

"You're on!"

America took a generous swig of the harsh liquid and handed the bottle to the Brit.

"Let me show you how a real adult drinks this." England sweetly said before downing a few gulps.

The American rolled his eyes and smirked when England sluggishly handed the bottle back. "That's how much better I am than you with liquor." The Brit contradicted himself with the slur already slightly present in his speech.

America burst out laughing. "You sure did prove me wrong."

"Good, you git!"

As America took his turn to take some of the harsh beverage, the light seemed to dim. He ignored it until something wet hit his head.

He looked to England, thinking that the drunken idiot had something to do with it but England was looking towards the sky. America followed his gaze to see the once blue sky quickly filling with rain clouds and preparing to unload their package onto the little picnic.

"Ah man, so uncool…." America muttered and started to pack, ticked he didn't even get a burger to eat and annoyed that nothing really happened yet.

"Damn you clouds! You can't have my rum!" England cursed loudly, clutching the wine bottle to himself as if the clouds really were after his alcohol.

Despite his annoyance, America couldn't help the wave of laughter that wracked him that moment. "Don't worry, Arthur, they won't steal it." He assured before mentally slapping himself. Damn it, I used his real name. He is so going to blow!

To America's surprise, England just shrugged it off. "Alright, if you say so Alfred."

America stopped his packing to stare at the Brit in shock. Alfred? He said my real name too? And not to curse me?

"You better hurry or else the rain might help the Lady of the Lake drag us in." England joked, smiling like an idiot.

"I'm already done and no lady is taking you away." America dared to say, picking up the drunk and throwing him over his shoulder.

England laughed at him. "Do I get my flight now?" he giggled out.

Shocked that England wasn't fighting, it took America a second to realize what he said. "You remember that?"

"Yeah. You're tall now so where is my flight?"

America smiled and held up England and started to twirl him around. His laughter echoed England's and his heart was pounding with joy as he ignored the sprinkle that started.

All too soon the rain became increasingly heavier and America decided it really was trying to conspire with the Lady of the Lake. He held England bridal style and made his way back to the car. "Can you reach the door handle?" he asked.

"Duh, see?" England opened the door, almost falling out of America's arms in his squirming and bad coordination.

But America managed to keep a hold of him and gently placed him into the passenger seat. "Good job." He awarded the Brit.

England looked around the dashboard, confused.

"Where's the wheel? Did Frog-Face rape it?"

America almost fell to the ground with his laughter and didn't stop until it was too painful to move. "No, it's an American car, remember?" he panted out.

"You American's need to learn how to build stuff. How are you going to drive without a wheel?"

"After I pack, I'll tell you the secret to driving." America promised with a wink and wide grin.

"You better, or I'll tell a fairy to annoy the bloody hell out of you!" England threatened.

"Anything but that! Noooo!" America begged with a smirk, running away for dramatic affect.

"That's right, you wanker, and don't forget it!" England yelled at him, having too much fun before realizing that America was running from him.

That, plus how the rain was here again while America had his back towards him.

"Damn it, this is too depressing." He cursed before taking a swig from the wine bottle that managed to stay in his hand.

o.V.o

E/N: Yay! Three chapters, one week!