Hey everybody, it's new chapter time :D

Thanks to all who reviewed for the previous chapter: stabbythings, Sha-Lin, xxalexisurgodxx, XxBleedingSoulxX2828, BwaBwaimagoat, Deidara'sgirl19, IchigoMelon, JewishLolita, Hungary, Katie (aka britishchocolate), Yuu-chi, and HamburgerWithTea!

At HamburgerWithTea: There is a WWII plane called a Mustang, but it was the P-51 model as opposed to the P-40 Warhawk (plane names are so confusing XD). They look kinda similar, but I think the one in Hetalia was the Warhawk. It's cool that you collect them :D WWII planes are awesome!

At Yuu-chi: I completely understand what you mean about fanfiction messing up. When I posted chapter 10, it didn't show up for a whole day because the site was screwing up so badly XD Hopefully it won't be an ongoing thing. And yeah, I can't believe it's been 10 chapters either!

At Katie: lol, I heard from a British guy in my class that British chocolate is also the best thing ever, so I guess it must be true! Now I wanna try some XD

Also, thanks to Katie and XxBleedingSoulxX2828 for alerting me of Ukraine's real name (you learn something new every day!). I feel like a bad fan for not knowing it XD But since I started with Sofia, I'll keep that for the sake of continuity.

Disclaimer: Axis Powers Hetalia © Hidekaz Himaruya (not me!)

So, without further ado . . .

Ch 11: Party Time

"BLOODY HELL!" Arthur exclaimed, jolting upright in his bed. This time, he had been awoken by the annoying sound of a party noisemaker ringing in his ear. It didn't take long to discover the perpetrator of the crime either: Alfred was standing over him, the party favor in his hand—it was the kind you blow into, just to annoy the crap out of everybody within a ten-foot radius.

"How did you get in my room?" Arthur growled, rubbing his eyes.

"It's my birthday!" Alfred answered, as though this detail excused his breaking and entering.

"Right. Happy birthday. But I don't see what that has to do with me. It's—" Arthur glanced at the clock. "It's . . . six o'clock in the morning?"

"Well, I didn't wanna waste any time," Alfred explained. "I mean, how can I sleep when it's my birthday—the most awesome day of the year!" He took a breath to blow into his noisemaker again, but Arthur snatched the thing away before he had the chance.

"If you want to be up and about, fine, but don't insist that I do the same," he said, ripping the noise-maker in two. Not that it mattered—Alfred was hiding away three more in his pocket. "Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going back to sleep."

"Awww, Arthur, you're no fun," Alfred said, puckering his lips. "I guess you're just too old to handle such excitement."

Arthur shot him a death stare. "We'll see how exciting it is when I strangle you for—"

He was cut off by Alfred's obnoxious laughter. "Come on, Arthur, it was just a joke. You're so funny when you're mad!"

Blushing, Arthur pulled the covers over his head, mumbling something that sounded very much like "Sod off."

"Okay, I'll see you later then!" Alfred said, leaving and shutting the door behind him.

If this is any indication of how the day's going to go, I don't have much to look forward to . . . besides a world of torment and pain, that is. The thought made Arthur long to stay tucked away beneath his bedcovers. Of course, he knew Alfred would never stand for that. After all, it was hardly a birthday if he didn't get to annoy the Englishman out of his mind.

So far, he was doing an excellent job of it.

xxx

Even hidden away in his room, Arthur found he couldn't escape the buzz surrounding Alfred's birthday. Every few minutes, he kept hearing music pumping out from speakers in the backyard. And then there was Alfred's hurried footfalls as he sped up and down the stairs at random intervals, making it sound as though a T-Rex was stomping around the house. Plus, his booming voice—along with his mother's—was enough to wake the dead, especially when coupled with that annoying laugh of his. No, it didn't look like Arthur would be getting any more sleep today. The Jones's mansion had gone from sanctuary to asylum in a matter of seconds, and Arthur had a feeling it was going to stay that way for quite a while.

By roughly ten o'clock, Arthur decided there was no longer any use in staying in bed. Removing the pillow he had pressed to his ears, he got dressed and headed down the Jones's staircase. With each step, the noises from below grew louder and louder, and his anxiety skyrocketed along with it. He tried to brace himself for what he'd find, but he soon abandoned the effort.

In a nutshell, the scene downstairs could only be described as pure chaos. It reminded Arthur of Matthew's graduation day, only multiplied by about ten. There were workers busily pinning banners and streamers to the ceiling while others inflated balloons and tied them in bunches to the furniture. Outside, a live band was practicing their songs, and Arthur could hear a never-ending line of trucks stopping off to deliver party goods out front. Meanwhile, every few seconds, workers stomped through the room carrying grilling equipment and coolers full of food, and chefs kept popping in to ask Mrs. Jones and Alfred questions about the menu selections. It was a marvel to see just how much effort was going into this party. But then again, when it came to the Joneses, the word "moderation" didn't exist.

Glancing to the side, Arthur noticed Matthew hiding out in the corner, clearly not wishing to get swept up into the melee. It made Arthur suddenly very jealous of Matthew's powers of invisibility. For a while, Arthur held out hope that he too might go unnoticed, but his luck didn't hold.

"Hey Arthur!" Alfred called, making his way across the room. To do so, he had to duck under a table two workers were carrying outside. "You're finally up!"

"Well, I couldn't bloody well sleep with this din going on, could I?" Arthur remarked, gesturing to the room at large. "I should have known there'd be no peace around here once your—"

"Arthur!" Mrs. Jones squealed, trotting over and pulling him into one of her bone-crushing embraces. "So good to see you! I hope we didn't disturb you with all our chatter."

"Of course not, Mrs. Jones. I couldn't hear a thing," Arthur lied, causing Alfred to raise an eyebrow. Mrs. Jones remained happily oblivious to it, though.

"Oooh, is this box here for my little Alfie?" she asked, referring to the gift Arthur was holding. When he nodded, she proceeded to take it from him and start shaking it like a bottle of pop, trying to discern its contents.

"Mom, it's my present!" Alfred pointed out, stealing it away from her. "I should be the one doing that!"

"I know, but I just love gifts!" she said, clapping her hands together. "I can't wait to find out what's in all of them!"

"Me neither," Alfred added, eyeing Arthur closely. Clearly, the gift in his hand was the one he most wanted to open. Arthur, however, offered him no clue as to its contents.

I hope he likes it, Arthur thought. Not that I really care, of course . . . I mean, if he doesn't fancy it, that's his problem. Not like it's going to upset me or anything . . .

"So what're you going to do until the party starts, Arthur?" Mrs. Jones asked.

"When does it begin, officially?"

"Well, the guests will probably start coming in around three," Alfred replied. "But it'll be in full swing by sundown!"

"And all through the night, too, if we're lucky!" Mrs. Jones piped up, every bit as excited as her son.

"I see," Arthur said, trying not to cringe. "Well, I suppose I'll just be . . . floating about, then. Maybe I'll take a stroll outside."

"Good idea. It's a lovely day—a little hot, but still nice," Mrs. Jones said. "But Alfie and me need to get back to work. So much to do and so little time!"

"Indeed."

"I'll see you later then, Arthur!" Alfred called as his mother tugged him away.

Afterward, Arthur spared a glance toward Matthew, whose expression seemed to suggest, "I tried to warn you."

Indeed you did, Arthur thought, but I seriously doubt a "warning" could have saved me from this.

xxx

For the next few hours, Arthur stayed true to his word by "floating" around from place to place, watching the workmen set up for the party as guests began to shuffle in a few at a time. Arthur tried to escape it all by taking a walk amongst the gardens, but he could still hear the blaring music just as loudly from there. So as the day dragged onward, he decided he might as well return to the Jones's backyard; after all, even he was interested in seeing how the finished decorations would look. It was sure to be an impressive spectacle, if nothing else. And when he finally arrived back at the mansion, he found out it didn't disappoint.

Tents and pavilions had been set up all over the Jones's backyard area, and the place was decked out with balloons, streamers, pinwheels, and American flags. Rows of lights had been strung up across the house and tents, though they weren't yet visible in the light of day. Long tables had been placed beneath many of the tents, and chefs were starting to fire up the grills already. Of course, the 4th of July theme had been carried through on everything: the balloons, the tablecloths and napkins, the party favors and hats—all were red, white, and blue. A stage had been set up, complete with a band and an expensive PA system so that the music would reach every corner of the property. Patriotic songs seemed to be the band's forte, and Arthur could tell it wouldn't be long before he'd have a throbbing headache from all of it.

"So how do you like it? Awesome, right?" Alfred said, startling Arthur, who hadn't realized he was standing behind him.

"It's—well, it's completely gaudy and obnoxious. In other words, it's perfect for you."

"I'll take that as a compliment," Alfred said, slapping a party hat onto Arthur's head. "Just wait till everybody gets here—"

"Alfred, there're some more guests arriving!" his mother shouted from the back door.

"Okay!" he called. Then, turning to Arthur, he mumbled, "She told me I have to greet all of them at the door."

"How unreasonable," Arthur scoffed. "She actually expects you to have manners? Absurd!"

"I know, right? We can't all be gentlemen like you." Then, in a mock English accent, "If you'll be so kind as to excuse me, sir . . ."

"You're excused. And your accent's terrible."

"What are you talking about? I was perfect!" Alfred argued, heading back toward the mansion. "And by the way, you look great in that hat! Real gentlemanly!" He laughed as Arthur quickly swiped the hat off his head.

I forgot I was even wearing this hideous thing, he thought, staring at the glittery hat. That's right, Arthur, only true gentlemen wear ridiculous party hats. He chuckled at the thought of it. There was no way he was putting this thing back on, not even for Alfred's sake.

xxx

Slowly but surely, the party guests began to trickle in and fan themselves out across the backyard. Arthur deliberately kept his distance, uneager to socialize with them. But staying out of the crowd became more and more difficult as the backyard began to fill up with people; within an hour, the entire place had been invaded, and there was no way Arthur could escape it. The guests ranged from business contacts to Alfred's old high school buddies, and of course, there were plenty of girls. Every guest brought a present for Alfred, which they piled atop a massive table in a pyramid-shaped formation. Arthur couldn't even see where his own present was anymore, as it had apparently been buried beneath all the others.

The music was in full swing now, and the chefs were busily whipping up the food. There were several buffet tables littered with various snacks: chips and dip, cheetos, pretzels, popcorn, plus sweets like donuts and cupcakes. Arthur also noticed an abundance of cotton candy and snow cone machines; it was like the place was a miniature carnival. And for the main course, grilled hamburgers and hot dogs—would Alfred have it any other way? But of course, to no one's surprise, the most impressive edible achievement was the cake. As Alfred had insisted, it indeed sported thirteen layers, with flavors ranging from chocolate to red velvet to cheesecake. But the icing was all red, white, and blue, with candles sprinkled about and a flag topping off the whole thing. It was a creation only Alfred could have designed.

And speaking of designs, Alfred had ordered a number of candy-stuffed piñatas for the celebration as well. Many of them were patriotic in nature (stars, eagles, flags), but there was also one shaped like a whale and another like a polar bear (that one was for Matthew, of course). Alfred made the piñata games look painfully easy; every time he swung at one, he nearly broke the piñata in two. But Mrs. Jones proved even more skilled at it than her son. When she swung, she really did break her piñatas in two, sending candy flying halfway across the yard. And later, Alfred more or less forced Arthur to participate (Alfred had ordered a unicorn-shaped one for him, after all). Arthur didn't do too well at first, but then he decided to pretend the piñata was Alfred, and that made it much easier to pummel. He managed to break it open at least, and that was enough to pacify Alfred for a while.

As the sun began to dip across the horizon, the strings of lights became more and more visible, and the party guests became more and more drunk. Naturally, there was plenty of alcohol to go around (the Joneses were famous for their wine, after all). And even though Alfred was technically underage, no one seemed to care. Meanwhile, Arthur wisely turned down the offers to join in any drinking games. He had been drunk before, and it usually didn't turn out well for him. So he limited himself to one or two drinks, which he paired with a few snacks. Mostly, he spent his time simply watching the crowds go by, though he did bop in to observe Alfred during an eating contest. Naturally, he decimated all the competition. No one could gulp hamburgers like Alfred F. Jones.

Nevertheless, as darkness began to fall around him, Arthur's interest began to wane. This was the point at which he would have typically skipped out and gone home, but in this case, the mansion was his home, so there was nothing he could do. He could feel that headache starting to come on . . .

"Hey there," someone addressed him from behind. Turning, he noticed it was a girl—a very pretty, blonde-haired girl with a cowboy hat and star-spangled bikini. "You seem a little lonely there."

"I'm fine, thanks," he said, trying to avert his eyes from her rather shapely chest. "A bit of a headache, that's all."

"You're cute," she went on, tugging at his arm. "And your accent's sexy. Are you one of Alfie's friends?"

Alfie? I thought only his mum called him that.

"We're business colleagues," Arthur told her, a little brashly. "What about you?"

"We dated for a little while back in high school," she said, like it was nothing out of the ordinary. Little did she know how her words sent a jolt up Arthur's spine. Glancing suddenly back in Alfred's direction, Arthur cringed to see him surrounded by an entire flock of giggling girls—all of them beautiful and scantily clad, just like the one he was talking to.

"Yeah, it was nice while it lasted," the girl went on, staring at Alfred. "But he likes to play around, y'know? He goes out with lots of girls, but I guess he gets bored quick. Short attention span and all that. So you wanna come join me by the pool?"

"Uh, you'll have to excuse me," Arthur muttered, breaking away from her. "Bad headache, you know. I'd better go take a walk." And before the girl could say another word, he was off in the direction of the vineyards—the only place he could think of where he could be totally alone.

xxx

Why does this bother me? he thought to himself, zigzagging his way across the fields of grapes. It's not like—it's not like he's bloody cheating on me or something! I must be mental. He can date whomever he wants. It's none of my business. I have no right to be upset over any of it . . .

And yet he was upset. It wasn't that he was mad at Alfred. He was actually mad at himself, for buying into the ridiculous assumption that he was special to Alfred. If this party proved anything, it was that Alfred had plenty of friends and plenty of girls to flirt with . . . but Arthur had no one. No one except Alfred, or so he had thought—but that was probably just an illusion too. It was absurd to think that Alfred considered him important. "He likes to play around, y'know?"

And that's probably all he was doing with me, Arthur thought, beginning to feel sick over the whole thing. And I was fool enough to believe it was something more. It's obvious I don't belong in his world. Why would he choose someone like me when there are so many others to pick from . . .?

Slowing to a halt at last, Arthur wasn't surprised to find himself lost. He hadn't even paid attention to where he was walking, but he knew he was fairly far away, since the music seemed so distant. But at least he could be alone out here. Eyeing a bench a little ways ahead, he opted to take a seat and rest for a while.

This is what I get for opening up to someone, he thought bitterly. I should have known better. I should have simply kept my distance. He suddenly wished he had taken a bottle of wine with him. He wanted nothing more than to get drunk and pass out on the bench. But since there weren't any glasses of wine at his disposal, he decided to do the next best thing: sleep. Or at least try to. He felt quite exhausted, and he wanted to forget the world if he could. So he leaned over and sprawled himself across the bench, like some homeless vagabond. It wasn't the most comfortable place for a nap, but he was in no mood to be picky tonight.

xxx

It was difficult to tell what finally nudged Arthur awake, but it wasn't anything startling. That is, he didn't wake with a jolt like he had in the morning. Instead, his eyelids weakly fluttered open, and when his vision became focused, he realized it was still evening—though he had no idea what time of night—and he was staring out across the vineyards. But there was something strange. The bench didn't seem quite so stiff anymore . . .

"Hey, you awake?"

"Hmm?" Arthur turned his head to see . . . ALFRED?

"GAHHHHH!" Arthur exclaimed, this time springing into a sitting position. His head had been resting on Alfred's lap, and Alfred had even been stroking his hair. The realization of it made Arthur turn bright red. "How the—where the hell did you come from?"

"I couldn't find you in the backyard or the mansion, so I came looking for you," Alfred told him. "I thought maybe you'd gotten drunk and wandered off . . . then I found you here, and I still kinda thought you were drunk, since you didn't even wake up when I lifted your head. I wanted to blow that noisemaker thing in your ear, but you looked so peaceful and all . . ."

"I—I am not drunk!" Arthur stammered, looking away. "I was only tired."

"Yeah, I know. But you're awake now, right? Here, I brought you a big piece of cake, just like I promised." Reaching over, he picked up a plate of cake and held it out for Arthur. But Arthur didn't take it. "What's wrong? Don't you like chocolate?"

"Why did you come out here?" Arthur asked in a strained voice. "Why did you even bother?"

"Because I was worried," Alfred replied. "And I wanted to see you."

"Yeah? Well it seemed like you were having a perfectly good time at the party without me."

Alfred blinked at the accusatory tone in Arthur's voice.

"Is something wrong?" he asked.

"Of course not," Arthur snapped. "I'm just surprised you decided to skip out on your girls to spend time with me."

"Ohhh, I get it," Alfred said, crossing his arms. "So you're jealous."

"I am not!"

"You suck at lying," Alfred laughed. "But you don't have to worry. I was only talking to them 'cause I was trying to be nice. You know, like a gentleman."

"You call 'playing around' being a gentleman?"

"Whoa, playing around?" Alfred repeated, scratching his head. "Okay, so maybe I did that a little back in high school . . . but not anymore. I got tired of it. I was never seriously interested in any of those girls, so you don't have to feel intimidated by them, Arthur."

"I'm not! I just . . ."

"You're special to me, Arthur," Alfred said, looking him squarely in the eye. "You know that, right?"

Swallowing hard, Arthur nodded. I do now, he thought. But he couldn't bring himself to say it.

"So how about that cake?" Alfred said, handing him the plate. "And I brought the present you gave me." Reaching over, he pulled the gift box out from underneath the bench. "I didn't want to open it without you around."

"Go ahead then," Arthur said, taking a bite of the cake.

"Okay!" And with one swift motion, Alfred ripped off the wrapping paper and tore off the box's lid. Lifting out the gift inside, his eyes grew wide as he hugged it close to his chest. It was a fluffy white rounded pillow made to look like him. Yes, it was a "mochi" pillow with bluish eyes and a cute expression, and it was as soft and light as could be. "You made this?"

Arthur nodded. "I sew a little . . ."

"It's so cute!" He squeezed it even tighter.

"I chose it because I know how much you love yourself, so I thought it would be perfect to make a pillow designed after you. And since you seem to have everything else, I decided I'd better make something original . . ."

"Oh, I wouldn't say I have everything," Alfred began, eyeing Arthur rather coyly. But before Arthur could respond, a sudden boom sounded in the distance. "Hey, the fireworks are starting!" Alfred exclaimed, gazing up at the illuminated sky.

A few golden fireworks shot high into the air, followed in quick succession by reds and blues. Some were massive while others were quite tiny, but all of them were bright and beautiful. However, even they weren't the highlight of the evening for Arthur. Soon after the show began, he felt Alfred's hand brush against his . . . and the next thing he knew, their hands were tightly interlocked. And they stayed that way for the rest of the show, even after the final golden glow had faded from the sky.

Afterward, it was Alfred who spoke first.

"You'd better get a good night's sleep," he told Arthur, grinning, "'cause I've got a surprise for you tomorrow!"

More? Arthur thought, turning even redder than before. "You know I don't much care for surprises . . . but in this case, I'll make an exception."

Then he smiled at Alfred and wished him "happy birthday" once more.

xxx

What could the surprise be, I wonder . . . ? You'll have to wait to find out . . .

A/N: I couldn't think of what present Arthur should get Alfred at first, but then I was like . . . Mochi pillow? Why not XD I love the America mochi—it's so darned cute!

Speaking of cute, I just recently got the new Hetalia art book and it is AMAZING! It also comes with a sticker sheet, poster, and a deck of playing cards with the characters on it. I did a little fangirl squee when I saw Alfred and Arthur were the King and Queen of spades! (It was meant to be!)They're so freakin' ADORABLE! So yeah, I'd highly recommend the art book, even though it'll cost you a crapload of money XD

I have a little amusing story to share as well. A couple weekends ago, I went to the Dogwood festival (this kind of springtime festival held every year in Atlanta), and as I walking around, I noticed that like a TON of people were carrying around Canadian flags! I was like "Whoa, what's up with that? Is there something I'm missing here?" Later on, I came to realize that the people at a certain table were giving away Canadian flags for free! They must have had like a bajillion of them, since so many people were carrying them around XD I decided "I MUST have one!" So yeah, I got a free Canadian flag and proceeded to wave it around the whole time. I love you, Mattie :D This is how you get noticed: give out free stuff!

And, on a final note, I'm afraid the next chapter may be delayed a bit because *drum roll* . . . I'm going to be in Italy for the next three weeks! PASTAAAAAAA~~~~~! Yep, it's a study abroad trip, and since I'm leaving in two days, I made sure to get this chapter up before I go! I'm SOOO excited I can't even contain myself. Somebody seriously needs to shoot me with a tranquilizer. I just know I'll be relating everything I see to Hetalia the whole time. Vee~!

So yeah, I won't be writing the new chapter till after I get back, but I'll still try not to make you guys wait TOO long!

Preview: Alfred surprises Arthur with . . . well, I can't really tell you, as that would ruin the surprise. Let's just say they go on a little field trip . . . use your imaginations!

Thanks for reading! And remember, please REVIEW! :D