A/N: I feel really bad for not updating this sooner. For those who have read my letterfic, then you're probably already aware that my cat broke my laptop's charger. That's still isn't fixed, but I figured I had to get something out there. It's rather short, but I'm going to try to get the next part out sooner, but depending on how often my mom lets me use her computer. In order to write this, I had to type rather late at night...in fact, the sun's due to come up in about twenty minutes or so. Heheh.

Hope you guys enjoy the chapter, though. It went against everything else I had been planning, but since I rewrote everything based on the chapter I lost on my old computer, I think that's alright. xD

"Here you go, man!" America gave the Brit a wide grin as he sat down at the small table in with the tray of Styrofoam cups – one holding England's favourite brew of Earl Grey, and the other holding America's coffee.

England hardly gave America a glance as he took his tea and sipped it. It was obviously made with either a tea bag or low-quality tea leaves, and way too much milk had been added. It was tea, though, England decided, and drank it anyway. After eating a couple jam-covered scones and being dragged down the street to the nearest café, he was too exhausted to make a big deal about it. To top it all off, a big of nausea had begun to stir in the pit of England's stomach – probably in response to the stench of burnt pastries and stale coffee.

'The bathroom hasn't been cleaned in a while, either,' England thought with a grimace, glaring in the direction of the bathroom. Ever since the symptoms of his pregnancy first began, he had noticed that his sense of smell was more sensitive. Due to this, the smell of urine from the bathroom was unmistakable.

"Oh, man. Should I have got you ginger ale or somethin' instead?" America asked, noticing how England's face had gone a bit greenish. While he was extremely poor at reading the atmosphere, he knew how to pick up when someone was feeling sick to their stomach. He learned it pretty well last time his brother had the flu and America dragged him to an amusement park anyway.

"No, no." England forced a reassuring smile. "I'm alright. It just….smells in here."

"It smells?" America looked around the café, sniffing rather loudly. He turned back to England with a frown on his face. "I don't smell anything, man. Oh, wait! You're preggers! Pregnant people have, like, super smell, right?"

"Keep it down!" England hissed. He paused to take a nervous sip of his tea. Would it stay down? After pausing to make sure he wouldn't have to make a dash to that foul-smelling bathroom, he continued speaking. "Yes, my nose is a little more sensitive, but—"

America's obnoxious laugh interrupted him. "Dude, that's so awesome! You could be a superhero!" He took a gulp of his coffee, leaving England to wonder how he could do that without burning his tongue or his throat. "Like, 'preggerman' or something! Dude, dude, we should run that by Kiku sometime!"

All England could do while the younger nation ranted enthusiastically was bury his face in his hands and sigh. Twenty minutes later, he had enough. Silently he stood up and threw his hardly touched cup of lukewarm tea into the rubbish bin and turned to America. "I'm leaving. You can stay here and rant, but I have some grocery shopping to do."

"Coming!" America chugged the last of his coffee and followed after the shorter male. However, England just continued out the door without even looking back to see if America was following him. As a result, America had to break out into a light jog just to catch up.

"What's your problem, man!" America reached out to grab England's shoulder. "You coulda waited!"

"I just want to get my shopping done and go home! I don't want to sit around in some smelly coffee shop while you go on about my condition like it's some sort of joke!" England snapped, whirling around to face him. "You may think it's hilarious, but you have no idea what I have to go through!"

"Calm down…" America began to say.

"No! I won't bloody calm down! I can smell what you've had for breakfast yesterday, I feel sick all the time, my head won't stop pounding and I can't eat without either getting gassy, getting heartburn, or getting sick!" England went on. "So instead of running to the store, picking up what I need and going home so I can suffer in my house, you try to make a day out of it!"

America stared at England as he went on his enraged rant, trying to process everything that was being said. Finally, when England finished yelling and settled into panting, America moved forward to hug him.

Tried to.

Seconds later, America was lying on the ground, clutching his family jewels in pain. England was glaring down at him, completely furious. "What the bloody hell was that!" he demanded. "I don't think I gave you permission to hug me while I'm ranting!"

"I just…ugh…" America groaned, unable to make out anything with the amount of pain he was in.

"Go home!" England ordered the American. "I can take care of myself! I don't need some uppity boy following me around like I'm made of glass!" With that, he turned and stormed off – leaving America to recover and pick himself off the ground.

If England had not been so angry, he would have noticed his body giving him warning signs the entire way to the store. By the time the adrenaline finally wore off and he walked through the doors, exhaustion had hit him hard, and his head felt like it was about to explode. "Just a few odds and ends," he muttered to himself. He grabbed a shopping trolley – mostly just to support himself – and went through the aisles for what he needed – although the number one thing on his mind was restocking his cupboard with tea.

'What does America think he's doing, anyway!' England thought, returning to his angry thoughts as pushed the cart. 'Is this all part of his stupid hero game! I don't want to take part in this!' He continued to gather his groceries; finally making his way to the tea aisle. What kind did he feel like…? The Earl Grey he drank-well, tried to drink earlier turned him completely off the drink for the time being. That was a shame, since Earl Grey was one of his favourite flavours.

English Breakfast had too close of a flavour to Earl Grey. Orange Spice was too sweet and didn't suit his current palate. "Super Irish Breakfast"…? He didn't recall ever seeing that flavour before, but he would assume it would only be good actually Irish'd…with drinks he currently wasn't allowed to drink. Camomile would have to do for now. It was fairly soothing, anyway.

As he reached for the tin of tea leaves, a wave of heat flashed through him, lighting his cheeks and nestling in his stomach. His vision blurred. He was only faintly aware that he was falling over.

"Oh….bugger."