Good morning everyone! It is currently just after one o'clock where I am, and I am happy to have finished this chapter. It's the longest one I have, and it wasn't easy to write. But surprisingly I'm happy about it and think it makes up for some of my other chapters. I really hope you all like it too! And to make it even better; I passed 5,000 hits. My family all came in and stared as I had a spasm over this (you have no idea how excited I am right now). I'm really going to miss writing this story, but unfortunately there are only about two chapters left. Voila!

To my lovely dedicated reviewers:

TheMortician'sDaughter: Lucky number 50! Thanks again, and yes, someone should keep an eye on those two. Chapter 7 is dedicated to you!

KrazyKunoichi13: Your enthusiasm is overwhelming. But yes, the tights are sexy
Phamenia: Don't remember who? What were we talking about? Well thanks for remember to review! Each one is much loved
Secret base: I'm glad you like it so far. Feel free to point out any grammar mistakes you see. Sorry for the hassle, I saw some other authors responding to reviews this way, and wanted to try it out. It has its ups and downs, but after this story I don't think I'll do it again. Thanks for the review!

Foreversnowynights: Ikr? I think I know which one you're talking about. France is scary stuff. Hope you like this chapter, and thanks for the review!

I don't own Hetalia or any other references

Warning: Heavy use of alcohol, implied use of drugs, yaoi


Chapter Seven:

"Very well then. We'll see you later – Yes, thank you for calling. Good bye." England hung up the phone. Maeve had called wondering if tomorrow would be a good night to meet up. Saying it was fine, for England desperately wanted to be somewhere besides his over crowded house. After the fiasco at lunch, England did not feel like being a gracious host to his guests. India had hid herself in her room, despite America and Wale's attempt to bring her out (that girl needs to get a grip on her anger!) and the only company he currently found tolerable was Whales. Unfortunately Whales was trying to keep everyone out of England's way, so he wasn't really available. America was currently talking to India, so England decided to begin cleaning up the kitchen. Despite the dishwasher, England felt the need to rinse each plate and scrub the pots and pans by hand. As he finished loading up the dishes and moved on to washing the pots, England heard footsteps come up behind him. America's face smiled in his peripheral vision.

"So India is going to stay in her room for a while. She seems fine, but any time I brought up leaving it sounded like something was thrown. The conversation was mostly about how awesome my movies are." America picked up the pan England had just washed and began drying it. As he worked he made faces at his reflection in the pan.

"Maeve called. We're going to meet up with her tomorrow night. She wanted you to know she's ready to beat you." England watched as the scrunched up face of the boy next to him changed to one of confidence.

"As if she could," smirking Alfred picked up the next pot. He stuck his tongue out at his upside down image.

"Her words not mine. And could you stop doing that? It's hard to focus on a conversation when you keep making faces."

"Are you saying I'm distracting?" England could feel his face heat up. The puckered lips on America's face had once again formed a cocky grin. Perhaps England looked at those lips for too long because the smile widened.

"Th-that's preposterous!" He spluttered. "I just can't tell whether or not you're paying attention."

"Always am Iggy. Let's go clean up the dining room"

For the next hour the two of them were hard at work cleaning up the remains of the twins food fight. Alfred was surprisingly good at cleaning, despite his need to goof off while doing it. Arthur grumbled over every stain, and envisioned gruesome for his two siblings. Chinese food was ordered for dinner, which was a quiet affair (India still refused to leave her room) and then they all turned in for bed early.

After getting ready for bed England found that he was too restless to fall asleep. He tossed and turned, trying to get in a position that was comfortable. Finally he tried lying on his back and counting sheep. "One sheep...two sheep...three sheep...four sheep..."Making it up to fifty-seven, Arthur gave up. If anything he felt more awake now. "Today was exhausting, so why can't I fall asleep?" Arthur wondered. With nothing but his thoughts, Arthur continued to stare at the ceiling.

The recent events seemed to finally be catching up to him. First the uproar over his eyebrows was just ridiculous. They were just eyebrows for god's sake! He doubted that anything like this happened during his punk stage. Then he had several piercings and his hair was dyed a different color every week. Of course, that was country related and others could see the effects all over the news. And many other countries had similar problems.

Then America had to cause his injury that was so bad that his family decided to come and hassle him. Add all that to France's pesterings and Maeve's competition, Arthur felt like everyone had decided it would be the perfect time to bother England. The person, not the country. It was enough to drive anyone mad! Especially France. Only he would think about having a relationship with a former colony! Well Spain did too, but he and South Italy really love each other. Turkey might've... and it was hard for countries to have no prior relationship when they begin dating...Belarus is freaking creepy. But all that is beside the point, America was loud and aggravating, and his food was disgusting. He gave help when it wasn't wanted – England thought about America cleaning up the kitchen and dining room with him, and how he had pulled England out of the water when he nearly drowned How cute the shocked look on his face was when he found out England had waxed his eyebrows.

"And what did he mean by 'I always am' anyways?" Arthur said to himself out loud. "Like 'I'm always paying attention'? Hardly. I can't count the number of times he has ignored me or forgotten something." Still it had sounded really sweet. Bloody hell. The frog's gayness must be a contagious disease. The thought of liking America had been placed in his head, and England couldn't shake it out. Did he have a crush on America? Maybe a little. Not like he had a lot of girls to choose from, Belarus is freaking creepy.

Shite! Tomorrow he would be out drinking, and England had long accepted that he did not take his liquor well. What if he did something stupid that gave away his feelings? That would be a nightmare! England banged his head against the headboard in frustration. The simple solution – not to drink – sounded unlikely. Who doesn't drink at a bar? But it was the only solution, really. Finally, England felt himself drift off into sleep

Everyone got out of bed late the next day, simply because they had time to sleep in for once. Even so, it did not stop the daily routine from taking forever. Filing and cleaning were done and America and England were organizing what they needed for the upcoming world meeting. Later in the afternoon, England took a break to have a cup of tea. He set the pot to boil and pulled out a cup as Wales walked in.

"Hey, want a cuppa?" England asked, gesturing to the now steeping pot.

"Sure" Wales responded. England noticed that his usually empty face was a little tense. England grabbed another cup and handed it to Wales. Adjusting the tea to their preferred styles with the cream and sugar laid out in front of them, they sat down. Suddenly Wales spoke up, "I don't mean to sound intrusive," he began, "but why is America still here?"

"Er –" England hadn't thought about it much. True, America should probably be home, with his own things to work on. "Uh. Actually I'm not really sure. It probably has something to do with the meetings still being in England."

"Yeah, but the rest of the world has found somewhere else to stay. And normally by now you two would have ripped out each other's throats. Something just seems different..." England felt his cheeks heat up.

"Well, it seems were getting along better these days, and – er –" England saw the edges of Wales lips turn upward ever so slightly, the equivalent to a triumphant grin on someone else.

"I knew it."

"Uh, knew what?"

"You like him, in a romantic way. Don't deny it." England swallowed the protest that was about to come out of his mouth.

"Um, kinda. I don't really know." At this moment England really wished that Wales stuck to normal, polite conversation, rather than saying what was on his mind. America was in his house, and could walk in at any moment.

"I think he could be good for you, and judging by the way he sticks around, I bet you have a pretty good chance with him."

"I don't want have a good chance with him! I just want this all to go away." England complained. Wales gave him a look that could only be described as one from a stern mother.

"That's not true. You want to be happy, and I highly doubt that entails turning into an old spinster."

"Why not? I'm practically infamous for it." England said.

"Just be ready to give it a chance, okay? I'm not saying that you have to hook up tonight"

"You know, I can't tell if this conversation is more or less disturbing coming from you." Wales glared, causing England to laugh. He looked too much like Scotland when he did that.

"Iggy! It's time to go!" America called from outside before opening the door. "I have a competition to win tonight."

Arthur went to grab his coat. While walking back he found Wales and India in a heated discussion with America trying to calm India down. Surprised, this was the first time England had seen India outside of her room since early yesterday he made his way over. When India saw him she stomped her foot and ran back towards her room.

"What was that about?" England asked Wales.

"She wanted to go out with us tonight, but I told her that she looked to young to go to a bar in this country."

"Perfectly reasonable. Not many six-year-olds go drinking."

"So America said that she could take the opportunity to destroy your house." England shot America a murderous glare

"I was kidding!" he said, hands up in defense. "I did say that she should go watch the newest Harry Potter movie or something."

"America, that's not even on DVD yet." England sighed.

"I did say or something. Either way she decided to stay here." America smiled.

"You coddle her you know. She puts up a fight just because she knows you'll listen."

"Yeah, but I don't mind. At least she hasn't tried sneaking out yet."

"I think, in her round about way she looks up to you. That's more than I could get." America seemed a little shocked by the compliment, but smiled just the same.

"OI! Lovebirds get moving! I want to be drunk by sunset." Scotland yelled from out the door. England yelled back something about not making stupid assumptions and learning to be patient. Everyone piled into the car for the short drive over to the local bar.

When they got there they found that the bar was unusually full. Looking around they noticed that many of the other countries had taken the opportunity to go out tonight as well. Over by the bar were Denmark, Netherlands, and the entire Bad Touch Trio. France could be seen lounging off in a booth, along with several others scattered around the area.

"Hey! Glad you made it." Maeve walked over; her hair currently a deep emerald and her dress was a warm brown. Ignatius was trailing behind her, his red hair having an eerie glow in the low lights. "I'm assuming the extra crowd has something to do with your lot?" she said while waving her hands in the direction of the rest of the bar.

"Yeah. They're in town for a meeting." England replied. Scotland and the twins had already wandered over to the bar, while Wales went to find a table for them.

"So," America began. "Ready to get beat?"

"Alfred, your ignorance is showing." England said

"What? Where?" Maeve started cracking up.

"You sure know how to pick them Arthur. Come on, I have a table set up over here." She brought them both over to a round table off in the corner. "I have a waiter making sure that our three trays are refilled regularly. Rules are: last one standing wins! "

"Wait Maeve," Now Arthur was confused. "Why are there three trays?" Now she and America looked at him like he was the slow one.

"It's for the competition. One for me, dumbass here, and one for you." Alfred's indignant cries were drowned out by Arthur's yelp.

"Me! I thought this competition was between you and Alfred! I wasn't planning to do much drinking..." This would not work. He started backing up.

"Psh. That's no fun. More is better!" Maeve put her arm around him, cutting off his escape. "And who goes to a bar, unless they want to get smashed?" Then she whispered into his year, "This will be good for you." An evil gleam filled her eyes. Now completely alarmed, England warily eyed the glasses. They seemed harmless, but looks can be deceiving. Not seeing a way out of this, England only nodded.

"So, you know the rules, the rest is simple: whoever wins gets to tell the two losers to do something. Drink up!"

"Hey! Shouldn't we know what we're doing before we sign up for this?" America protested. England was in agreement, but knowing Maeve, that wasn't going to happen. As it was, she ignored his question anyways.

"Don't worry," England muttered in the other's direction. "She almost always picked something about your hairstyle." Not looking reassured, the American picked up his first glass.

The bitter, awful drink burned the inside of the Englishman's throat. He could hear America cough, but could not see him for his eyes had filled with tears.

"Ugh. That stuff is nasty." America's voice was gruff

"It gets easier." England managed to say. They continued swallowing the vile liquid for the next hour. It did become tolerable to swallow, but most likely because by then all of their senses had been numbed by the alcohol in their systems.

England was feeling incredibly dizzy. He thought he could hear yelling, but wasn't sure where it was coming from. "Ye scallywags! Nothin's eaton my face." Arthur swayed a bit. "I hearby decla-decl-de. Um... don't stare...with my chair you bloody teddy bear!" Then he realized that he was the one yelling. "I swair theez bubbles argh rood. I amze Quin ov Inglund! See respect." The room didn't stop wiggling, so he decided it was best to sit down. Or his legs gave out, he wasn't really sure. When sitting, he found the bubbles were really lights, and his vision cleared a little bit. With no intention of standing up again,

Arthur took the opportunity to look around the room. America and Maeve were still going strong, downing a glass every few minutes. He could see the twins singing one of their favorite drinking songs, skipping about on the table. "...as the one we drink in our home town…" Scotland was clapping along and encouraging them. "...you can drink your fancy ales..." Over in the far corner it looked like France and Ignatius were making out. "…you can drink em by the flagon..." The Bad Friends Trio had all started giggling madly. "...but the only brew for the brave and true..." Netherlands was smoking something that produced a smoke with a greenish hue. "…comes from the Green Dragon!"

On the drinking match continued. For a while it seemed about even between Maeve and America, but after another half hour his eyes were becoming unfocused, and America was using the table for support. England watched all of this from his sitting position on the floor, whenever he tried to stand the room spun, so he continued using the wall for support as he made himself comfortable. Eventually he dosed off for a bit.

"Argh!" Something massive had just dropped on him, waking him up. Looking at whatever had landed on him, he saw Alfred sprawled out on top of him. Elbow digging into Arthur's stomach and his head was plated into the floor.

"Well that was a good match!" Maeve said triumphantly. At first glance, she looked like she was actually refreshed by it, but had anyone been a little less drunk they would see that her eyes had become a bit of an off balanced, crazy look. "Here," she held out her hand and pulled England up and out from under the heavier man on top of him. Together, they were able to hoist America up, and drag him towards the door. There, they met Wales, who was the designated driver for the night. Thankfully the other three in the group were able to stand, with a lot of leaning on each other of course, and walked themselves out to the car.

The drive home was filled with the sounds of the three older countries very off key singing. When they got into the house everyone went their separate ways. America had awoken slightly "Can you handle getting him to his room? I'll handle these three," Wales asked. England only nodded. The idea of talking made him nauseous. Carrying the heavier man was difficult, but England was able to help him walk most of the way. That is, till America all but collapsed on the ground in front of England's doorway. The final fifteen yards seemed too much of an effort to drag the deadweight of the American. The short distance to the bed on the other hand was much more appealing. Hauling him onto the nearer side, England himself slid into the other side. There was a slight rustling next to him.

"Iggy" Alfred mumbled. "I lost, didn't I?" Arthur chuckled at that.

"Yeah. But Maeve's crazy. Don't dwell on it." America sat up and leaned forward, looking England in the eye.

"You know what I never got Iggy?" He asked.

"What?" Arthur asked after a long pause. Maybe he was asleep again.

"Why'dja do it?" England looked at him blankly. Even if his brain was at a normal functioning level, he doubted he would understand the thought process in America's mind.

"Do what?"

"Ya know – wax yer brows. After the bet." Again, England struggled to respond to his question.

"Well, ah...They look nice?" The sentence ended as a question. England wasn't really sure what compelled him to keep waxing and plucking his eyebrows. A lot of stuff happened after he got them done, and stuff seemed to continue happening since he kept them. He didn't think it was for something as selfish as attention seeking, but he was tired of the other nations picking on him for how he looked. There were plenty of other things they already teased him about.

"Wanna know sommat?" America asked, his voice deep and slurred as he spoke. "I...I always liked 'em, them caterpillars that ate yer face." Surprised, England didn't answer. Then America leaned forward. England half expected him to kiss him, and closed his eyes. Instead, he felt a wet tongue run down the length of his left eyebrow. As gross as it initially felt, it also sent shivers down his spine.

"Alfred," he breathed. America pulled back and looked at him.

"Iggy. I want'cha te know, I've always lu~ " America cut himself off, and fallen down onto his pillow. He had fallen asleep.


There you go! The end of chapter seven. I'm glad I was able to get in some actual interactions between Arthur and Alfred (They don't like working together much) and that Wales actually got to play a larger part. Maeve came back, as well as Ignatius (he still doesn't have any lines XD) and we finally had the competition.

If anyone was confused by the last scene, here is a little clarification: in my head cannon – eyebrow fetish. Hope that helps.

This story is coming to an end shortly, so if you have anything to say – I would really appreciate the review.