CCG – I really would like to update this faster, but school puts some pretty harsh demands on my time. When summer comes around, I'll be (hopefully) updating once a week.

Marina – America doesn't strike me as a particularly great actor either. Can't really answer much of the rest of this paragraph without getting spoilery. I know what you mean about being busy. I hope you do get an account when you have the time. Then I could PM you, for one thing. For another, I'm curious about what you'd write—but this probably isn't the best place to get into that discussion.

In honor of getting a hundred reviews (congrats, Luigi1997) and reaching my twentieth chapter, this chapter is extra early and twice as long! It's also one of my personal favorites of all the chapters I've written so far. That said, I'm sorry if you were one of the people who I told that I'd have this chapter out around last week. I got started writing this, and it sort of…expanded. Over the course of an extra week. I don't quite regret it, though—it was fun to write, and I don't think it should have been split into two chapters.

We'll be leaving Japan and America momentarily—here's what England's been up to. (Enjoy!)

Okay, I'm here, England thought, looking up at America's house. Now what?

In the end, he just went in. He didn't really think America would bother to hide, even if he did make a racket.

A half an hour or so later, England was starting to feel that he might need to revise that hypothesis. Either he's not here, or he's hiding somewhere I don't…know…about…

Looks like it's time to find out if he actually has anything on the second floor. I still don't know where the stairs are, though (and I'm starting to wonder if he even has them, the blasted idiot…who has a second story without stairs?).

England started walking towards the back of the house. He reached the balcony and swallowed nervously. Not only was the balcony a good distance above his head, what pegs hadn't been broken off looked like they could fall with only the slightest encouragement. England started seriously wondering if he should go looking for a ladder, but he hadn't seen any, and he didn't really have much time to spare. After all, if America wasn't here (and England was beginning to suspect this might be correct), he was pretty much guaranteed to be somewhere England desperately didn't want him to be.

Even so, a few practice jumps certainly wouldn't hurt. England backed away from the nearby obstacles into America's fairly spacious backyard.

He was about to jump. He definitely was! Just…a little bit longer…

Okay, why the hell am I so scared? England asked himself, more trying to pep-talk himself than as a serious question. I've done much, much more risky things in my life than jumping a few dozen feet. It's true that I'm not exactly acrobatic, but I'm not trying to do flips or anything either. It's not even that high!

England looked back at the rickety balcony. It was definitely "that high."

Maybe it would be better if I did it near the obstacles. So I could grab something when I fall. No, England reminded himself, that's irrational. Anything I could grab looks like it's about to come off, anyway.

…You know how when about to dive off a diving board (or something similar)? How you talk and talk and talk to yourself, and then you just do it? That's what happened. England jumped…about a foot.

He promptly felt so idiotic that his next jump went a good four feet off the ground. He caught his breath. It was pretty high up. Then he came back down, reflexively bending his knees to avoid the shock. It didn't hurt at all.

Somewhat more eagerly, England jumped again, and again, working his way up to the height of the balcony, and building up confidence.

I should try a flip! he thought excitedly, caught up in the thrill of the moment. He pulled it off effortlessly. A few more assorted and rather impressive gymnastics followed.

It took several more jumps for him to remember the balcony, and that he was, in fact, on a schedule. Embarrassed to realize he had forgotten, he took a running start and made it in one perfect jump. He mentally started to congratulate himself before the embarrassment hit again and he reminded himself that he had, in fact, been behaving very childishly.

If America asks me about where I was, England mentally noted, I'm leaving this part out.

He swatted at Nantucket (which had gotten in his face during the jumping), opened the balcony door, walked in, and was immensely frustrated to immediately notice several computer terminals. Nevertheless, there wasn't exactly much he could do with them now.

"America?" England called. He walked further in. There was plenty of dust, but it was mostly hidden along the sides of the hallways, and most of the floors had clearly been in use recently.

England opened the next door he came to. A clearly booted up computer terminal flickered from the back.

So he is here, England thought smugly. Not that he really had any right to be smug about it. Really, where else would America go?

England suddenly realized that if he was here, there was a good chance America had seen his little practice jumps. He firmly pushed that thought to the back of his mind, wondering instead why he had attached the 'if'. Probably because it boggled his mind to realize America could stay quiet for this long. Still, there was the computer, quite clearly on.

Of course, he might have just accidentally left that computer on, England suddenly realized. Just because I would never be so irresponsible doesn't mean America wouldn't. Still, he does usually seem to take pretty good care of his technology. If nothing else.

Now needing confirmation, England walked over and sat down next to the computer terminal. Some sort of photoshop program was pulled up.

England pressed a few buttons, trying to figure out what exactly this thing was. He succeeded in drawing a few circles.

A few minutes later, he had a pretty decent rose etched on the screen for a program that mostly used circles. Satisfied, he pulled up the save menu.

What the heck? England thought, confused. Instead of the normal computer directory, the save slots consisted of a country and a date. He scrolled through them until one in particular jumped out at him.

Japan. England abruptly remembered the time Japan told him that America came over to his house fairly frequently. He abruptly saved the image and pushed the computer back.

"…shit," England groaned. He wouldn't ever have done it in company, but he finally felt the need to rant. This really required some heavy cussing. "[MANY profanities omitted] Japan knows us both! There's no way America could fake that. Stupid, [beeeeeeep] bodyswap. What the [beeeeep] am I going to do?"

He managed to calm himself down. Maybe America had gotten lost. It would certainly be dark enough for it at Japan's house. Or maybe Japan's doorbell wasn't working. England mentally clung to these thoughts.

Then he heard the door open behind him.

-Rewind a few minutes-

Tony came back from the restroom feeling suitably refreshed. He paused before the doorway as he heard a fairly vehement "…shit." in what was unmistakably America's voice… with a British accent. Inwardly, Tony seethed at the reminder of the limey.

The first profanity was followed by many colorful others. Tony couldn't help but be a little impressed by the show. He hadn't thought America knew many curse words, but the other nation was rapidly proving him wrong. In fact, it wasn't long before Tony started delightedly jotting down notes of some of the more exotic ones.

Consequently, he was paying enough attention to piece together the coherent pieces of information that slipped loose. At first he was confused (though it would explain the clothes and the accent...), then briefly mad, worried, and finally pridefully amused as he realized that America was the cause of England's tirade. Not that that was surprising; America never had been that good at keeping secrets, and England obviously wanted to keep this whole thing under wraps. Which, of course, gave Tony a lovely idea.

He opened the door. This is going to be priceless.

England turned and saw him.

Tony smiled devilishly. "Hi there, fucking limey."

England's expression was indeed priceless. Tony smiled wider.

A few seconds later, England recovered sufficiently to say, flatly, somewhat threateningly, "You didn't hear ANY of that, and you most definitely did not just refer to America by a derogatory slang term usually reserved for the British."

"Oh?" said Tony, "I'd say I fucking did."

"The fact that I'm currently capable of throwing you through several walls suggests otherwise," England caustically replied.

"Don't think America'd be too happy about that."

"America also thinks I love you. He'd believe me if I told him someone else did it."

Tony privately had to concede the point. He frowned slightly.

"Well, okay, America, whatever. Nice acrobatics you were doing earlier, by the way."

England turned a scarlet shade of red normally reserved for his national flower. Tony's frown disappeared.

"Wish I got a video now. Still, that's one that people'll take by word of mouth. Wonder what England will think."

England sputtered. "Bastard."

"Fucking limey."

There was a small pause as the room roiled with their hate.

"You just remember: You never saw any of this. Jumps included, or you're going through the wall."

"Okay," Tony replied, cheerfully, privately adding, but only 'till America gets back.

"See ya. I've got work to do," Tony added, shoving past England and plopping into the chair. "I'd guess you do too, based on those profanities."

"I just have to check…is America here?"

Tony looked at England like he was an idiot, a moron, a retard and several other variations on the words 'stupid person.' "You really have to ask? Believe me, you'd know if America was here. He's sorta hard to miss."

England sputtered, searching for a comeback. Failing to find anything properly vituperative, he slowly admitted, "Normally, yeah, it's just that he's managed to surprise me a few times already."

Tony turned and looked at him for a few seconds.

"Yeah…sometimes he surprises me too. Now skedaddle, limey."

England bristled at the insult, but decided not to take umbrage, and opted instead to walk back out, drop down from the balcony, and start heading towards Japan's house.

Tony looked back at the monitor and saw that everything he had been working on had been erased.

"Fuck!" he shouted, leaping out of the chair and dashing out to the balcony. "You fucking better come back and fix this, fucking limey!"

England looked back, briefly, and smiled sweetly. (Actually, it was closer to a smirk, but either way it was obvious England wasn't coming back.)

"Oh, I am going to fucking get him for that," Tony murmured as he started planning his revenge.

A/N: I can just picture Tony scheming, sitting at that computer, hunched over a little, hands clasped together, with an evil little white cat sitting on his lap… (Okay, maybe not the last one, but still. He'd make a cool evil mastermind.)

I've re-read this chapter many times, and it consistently manages to make me crack up (especially the second part). For those who don't know, England's national flower is the rose. The first thing I thought when I heard that was 'France must have been so pissed when England picked it first…' (Then again, I don't really know much more about it than that. It really could be interpreted several different ways.).

The way England's jumps are written bothers me a little. I wanted to show him being a bit nervous, partly because he wasn't really completely convinced he'd be able to jump well in America's body (and for the obvious reasons, like the fact that it's way too high), deciding to practice a little, and slowly starting to enjoy it despite himself. When I look back, I'm not sure I really got the timing right, but I'm not quite sure how to fix it, either. Oh well.

Next chapter we'll be returning to Japan and America's antics [well, more like America's antics and Japan's confusion]. Happy belated thanksgiving to those of you in the U.S.A. Hope you pigged out on turkey and stuff. America would be proud :)