Wow, I can't believe I just wrote this. I wasn't planning on writing anything in this story for while. I just felt an urge while getting ready to leave tomorrow.

And, this chapter is slightly fluffy and cheesy. Just bear with it. It needed to happen.

Wow, I keep forgetting to do Disclaimers, so here you go.

Disclaimer: Sadly, tealgirl713 does not own Hetalia, and will never own it. All she owns are her OCs and the plot of this story.


I woke up on Tuesday morning, my mind buzzing with excitement. Pulling back the curtain covering my closet, I looked through all my clothes, trying to decide what to wear.

Yes, I know that I sounded like a total girly-girl there, but that's not who I usually am, as you would know if you paid attention to what I say. I was just nervous, and excited. I wanted to look good for this date. With a guy I had only met twice. Who I was totally sure wasn't a serial killer.

Wow, that got weird fast. Anyway, back to the story.

I finally decided on one of my nicer shirts that was all blue, and felt really soft. I paired that with a pair of unmarked jeans, and decided that was best. No need to be overly fancy.

My mom was out for the day with a few of her friends, and Dad was at work, so it was just Megan and I until John came to pick me up. I had to wake her up again, but I was smart about it this time. Don't want another black eye now, do we?

I pulled out my IPod and my IHome and plugged it into the outlet closest to Megan's room. I pushed the IPod into it and played a random song. I probably should have looked at the song before I turned the volume on. It was Miley Cyrus, and Megan hated Miley Cyrus. With a fiery passion.

Pretty soon I heard Megan yelling from her room. The music was so loud I couldn't hear what she was saying. I turned it off and waited for her to come out of the room.

When she did, she was mad.

She looked at me with a fire in her eyes that I had never seen before. I backed up slightly, before I realized I was now against a wall.

She walked closer to me, and I suddenly felt very scared. So, I ran away. Fast.

I retreated out of the house and went into my backyard, where I hid behind some bushes. I was getting my shirt and jeans dirty, but I didn't really care. Hiding from Megan, when she was this angry, was much more important.

I sat there for a few minutes before I realized that Megan was probably gone. I cautiously walked back inside (in case she decided she wanted to attack me while my guard was down), and found her sitting at the breakfast nook, eating cereal. I went to the fridge and got my own bowl. I poured myself some Cinnamon Toast Crunch and sat next to her.

"Please don't kill me," I said while taking a spoonful of the cereal.

"Oh, it's ok, I won't. Just never do it again."

"I promise." And I had every intention to keep that promise. I didn't need a scary Megan on my hands.

After breakfast was over, I checked my watch. It read 10:47. A little over seven hours until John came over. What was I supposed to do until then?

Almost as if she could read my mind, Megan called to me from the kitchen. "Hey, why don't we play some violent video games? That always seems to pass the time!"

We went out to the living room and turned on the X-Box. Yes, I'm not afraid to admit it. I am a 20-year old woman who still plays Call of Duty in her spare time. Is there something wrong with that?

I selected Cooperative Mode, and for the next several hours, we were slaughtering members of the Axis Powers' army. My mind connected that to Hetalia, and I started laughing.

"What's so funny?" asked Megan, who was currently reviving me.

"Oh, I suddenly thought of all the soldiers as Germany."

She started laughing, too, and lost track of what she was doing.

"MEGAN! KEEP REVIVING ME!"

"Oh! Right! Sorry!"

Eventually we were exhausted from staring at a screen, and stopped playing. I looked at my watch again and this time it read 2:16. Four more hours. At least we could have lunch now.

Not trusting myself anywhere near the kitchen, I let Megan handle the food. She came out with Mac N' Cheese, one of my favorite lunch foods.

"Thanks, Megan," I said as I took the first bite.

"Oh, you're very welcome, Miss I Can't Cook to Save My Life."

"You know very well I can't! Remember that time in ninth grade cooking class, and I tried to make cinnamon rolls?"

"Yes, and then we ended up not being able to use that stove for the rest of the year! Wow, you were such a bad cook!"

I sighed into my bowl of Mac N' Cheese and ate some more of it. Megan sat next to me and took a bite out of hers, too. After she had finished about half of it, she looked over at me. "You're pretty nervous, aren't you?"

"Yeah, I guess I am." I looked down into my bowl. I had hardly eaten any of the noodles.

"I'm sure you guys will have a great time," she said, clearing away my bowl and putting it in the sink. "You still have about three and a half hours until John's supposed to show up, so why don't we watch some TV?"

"Ok. Put on Animal Planet." She obliged.

I went and sat next to her on the couch. Untamed and Uncut was on, and I kept myself distracted by watching people getting clobbered by bulls and bitten by snakes. We had stumbled upon a marathon, and we sat there the whole time with our eyes glued to the TV screen.

I had totally lost track of what time it was when the doorbell rang. I jumped about a foot into the air, and had Megan answer it while I fixed my hair in my room one last time. I could hear them downstairs.

"Hey Megan! Where's Olivia?"

"Oh, she's upstairs. She'll be down in a second."

I finished up, and, taking a deep breath, walked down the stairs.

"Oh, hi Olivia!" John said when he saw me. "You look nice!"

I smiled at him. "You look nice, too. Where are we going?" I figured we'd be going to a restaurant or something.

"It's a surprise!" he said as he took my hand and pulled me out to his car. I looked back at Megan as I got in.

"You two have fun!" she cried. "Bring her home before midnight, John!"

We laughed and I shut the door. John pulled out of the driveway and started driving away from downtown and more towards the outskirts of the suburbs. I didn't know where he was taking me, so I just relaxed and let him drive.

Soon we came upon a small, grassy field in the middle of nowhere, trees surrounding it on all sides. John stopped the car, and he got out and headed to the back. I opened my door and got out, watching him.

He pulled out a big blanket and a basket. Oh, we were going to have a picnic. Fun. He then set the blanket down on the grass and looked over at me. I was still standing awkwardly by the car.

"Hey dude, come over here and sit down!" he said, gesturing to a spot on the blanket next to him. I walked over to the blanket and sat down on it. He opened the basket, and inside were several food items. He had packed a covered bowl of potato chips, some sandwiches that just looked like chilled hamburgers, and an apple pie, which looked delicious.

"Did you make that pie?" I asked, leaning in to the basket. The smell of the pie wafted up to me, and it smelled delicious.

"Yep! I made the sandwiches, too! Do you want some?" he asked, picking up a sandwich and eating it in two bites. He picked up another one. I had forgotten about his strange eating habits.

"Yeah." I had just realized how hungry I was. I picked up one of the sandwiches and took a bite. "Wow, it tastes almost exactly like a hamburger!"

"I know, dude! That's why I made them! I love hamburgers!"

"I could tell by the way you were eating them at McDonald's on Friday."

"I love pretty much anything from McDonald's!" he said, grabbing yet another sandwich. He took a handful of chips, too, and managed to stuff them in his mouth along with the sandwich. He must have had a magical mouth.

"How do you do that?" I asked, as he swallowed.

"Do what?"

"Eat like that!" I said. "You stuffed an entire sandwich and a handful of chips in your mouth at once! I didn't even think that was humanely possible!"

"I call it a gift," he said, smiling at me, before turning to the sky. "What time is it?"

I looked down at my watch again. "It's almost seven."

"Wow, already? Man, the time went by so fast!" I looked over at him, surprised to see that he looked a little nervous. He'd seemed fine just a few minutes ago.

"Hey, are you okay?" I asked. He jumped a little bit and turned to look at me.

"Oh, sorry. I was just spacing out for a moment. I'm fine!" I wasn't too sure. He looked at the sky again and was silent. After a minute or so, he turned to me.

"Hey, you know that show you showed me at the beach a week ago? Hetalia?"

"Yeah?" I was glad for the change of subject.

"What do you think of the character America?"

"America?" I asked, eyebrows furrowed. I thought about that for a moment. Knowing I could (probably) trust John to keep whatever I told him a secret, I decided to tell him the full, embarrassing, truth. "Well, truthfully, when I was younger, I was completely and utterly obsessed with him. He was my favorite character. I used to fantasize about him all the time." Man, it felt good to get that off my chest. My friends had never known about that, and I intended to keep it that way. I didn't need them to tease me about a feeling I'd had years and years ago.

For some reason, John was grinning. What did I say that made him smile like that?"

"Why are you smiling?"

"Oh, no reason."

I turned my head into the sky and looked up at it. It was getting late, but, because it was summer, the sky was still pretty light. I still wondered why John was suddenly so happy.

"Actually," he said, leaning closer to me. "I have to tell you something really important, and you can't tell anyone."

"What?" I was still looking at the sky.

"My real name isn't John Smith."

To say that shocked me was an understatement. Why did he give me a fake name? Was he on the run from the law or something? Was he a serial killer? However, on the outside, I looked completely calm, and unfazed by what he said.

"What's your real name, then?" My heart was beating really loudly in my chest. I was almost sure he could hear it.

"My real name is Alfred F. Jones."

For a second, it felt as if my heart stopped beating. During that second, a million crazy thought went through my head. He must be lying. Hetalia wasn't real. There was no Alfred F. Jones. There was no America. Maybe this was a dream, and I was imagining all of this. He couldn't be real, could he? He just couldn't!

He could obviously sense the thoughts going on in my head, because he grabbed my hand and said, "Look into my eyes."

I did as he said, not really paying attention to my actions. And as I looked into those beautiful blue eyes of his, a vision began in my mind.

A young child, who looked sort of like John, was being held by an older man who was about as tall as me with blonde hair and bright green eyes. I felt as if I knew this man from somewhere, as well. The child was sleeping, and he looked so cute.

The older man spoke in a British accent. "Oh, you're asleep." The vision changed.

I saw John, or Alfred, or whoever the hell he was standing in a military uniform, with a large army behind him, facing the same man I had seen in the previous vision, who was backed up by his own army. He looked like he hadn't aged a day, even though it had obviously been years since the previous vision. Were those Revolutionary War uniforms?

"I just want freedom!" John cried.

"Never!" yelled the other one back at him. I wanted John to keep resisting. I found myself sold on his cause even though I didn't really know what it was. The vision changed once more.

I knew this scene. I would know it anywhere. John stood at the front of a room filled with people, and he was talking about a superhero and global warming.

It was the opening scene of Hetalia.

I kept watching, noticing the little details that fit in all the right pieces. The British man from before was sipping tea, and he was sitting next to a man with a French accent who had long blonde hair and blue eyes. There was a Chinese man with a ponytail, and a Japanese man with dark, black hair. All the countries were there.

This could only mean one thing. My brain didn't want to acknowledge it, but here it was, laid out in front of me.

John was telling the truth. He was Alfred F. Jones. He was America. And, for some strange reason, I felt attracted to him.

The vision faded, and I found myself facing him again. He looked back at me with a hesitant smile.

"America," I whispered, still staring at his face. Why hadn't I noticed the likeness between the anime character and him before?

"Yep!" he said cheerfully, staring back at me unfazed. He took both my hands in his, and a sudden, odd seriousness came over his face. "And I will always, no matter what, be your hero."

He leaned in, and before I knew it, I was leaning in, too. Our lips connected. I wasn't even surprised. It was like I had always known I was going to kiss him, from the moment I was born. This felt right.

Too soon, we pulled away, and I was looking into his perfect blue eyes once more. I realized what I had said to him before I knew he was America.

"Oh god! I said I was obsessed with you! Oh, this is so embarrassing!" I said, blushing for the first time in a while.

He laughed, and said, "Dude, it's ok! But I still can't believe you didn't figure it out before!"

He was right. Oh, I felt like such an idiot! It was so obvious, looking back on it. I mean, his favorite colors were red, white, and blue? He said "Dude" all the time? He could eat like there was no tomorrow? He loved McDonald's, and hamburgers? It was plain as a sheet of blank paper.

"I feel so stupid, not noticing it before."

"Aww, don't! I probably wouldn't have figured it out, either!"

"Wait, is that why you asked me what I thought of America?"

"Maybe," he said, grinning evilly at me.

"Ugg!" I said, turning away from him in mock disgust. "I hate you!"

"You didn't seem to hate me a few minutes ago!" he said while laughing.

I turned back to him and rolled my eyes, laughing. "Whatever, America. Should I call you America, or Alfred?"

"I'd rather you call me America. I use it more often!"

"And how are we going to tell my friends? And yes, before you say anything, we are going to tell my friends." They had to know. I wasn't going to be able to keep this from them.

"I don't know, but we're gonna have to think of something."

"Agreed. I don't want to refer to you as John every time I talk about you."

"Yeah. It felt weird, being called John by you guys," America said. "Well, come on, we'd better eat this pie and get you home before midnight."

"Yeah, you definitely don't want to risk the wrath of Megan," I said, laughing. "She can be as scary as Russia when she's mad."

America shivered as he took a huge slice of pie. "That must be terrifying, dude."

"Oh, it is," I said, as I grabbed my own piece.

We finished off the pie and drove back to my house, talking about the other countries. It was amazing for me to think of them as real people, and not just characters in an anime.

I was sad when we pulled into the driveway, but I got over it when I thought about seeing him again. I knew I would. He walked me to the front door, and leaned in to give me a quick goodbye kiss before he walked back to his car.

I walked in my house to find my mom, my dad, and Megan all assembled in the front room, waiting for me.

"So," said Megan. "How was your date with John?"

I resisted the urge to correct her, and smiled broadly as I said, "Pretty freaking fantastic."

She smiled back at me, and then dragged me up to my room so I could dish more freely. But all I could think of was America, and the fact that he was real.


SO. FLUFFY.

Yeah, so I'm done with this for a while. I have ideas for the next chapter, but they're going to stay ideas for a while.

So, enjoy this oddly long chapter until then.