Acknowledgements: thank you to the following for reviews/favourites/alerts/ PMs: StormShadow3, CheesecakeKitty15, SassyPantsJaxon, EllaAwkward, RosesforEveryone, SansSoucis, Kattie (Guest), Ivyflight, Taranodongirl1, Liquers, Pheonixlegend, ES1776, tsundere-cat-type, Kenzeira, Hinabi, Probablysomebody, Junior Chief, TelosKoritsi13, RebelsAdvocate,, Monskuuti, Zeawesomepasta, Woody569Gamecraft, datteroflucifer, rowerlovesastronomy, browsofglory, imiregretsnothing, icococandy, GalaxyGirlEm, gnomiegnome, itsalwaysbeme, Sarite, weirdonamedbrie, the Oracle of Akemi, CriticalThinking, RebelsAdvocate, eleanoralovesananias, TheMoonRaven, RoseRune, aphDadmark, Still a Lover of Franchises, Deciduous Forest 208, Yu-Gi-Oh Trekkie 99, RaptureChamber, StealthSage, yukia9tendo, Mondmaedchen, Bayboo20, England 2410, mossflower1234, ChildoftheMoon86, Gwen-Van-Well, The Silent Lilac, Supergrassaysyaaasss, Azmine Junet, febrezedtrash, magondala, BrownieTheFangirl, ppurpple, mssunnymuffins, espeon64, oh-cripe-my-fish, Renchikara, LucediDio,mirrorkirby64, quity190, Kathryn Daughter of Hestia, Elizaveta Hedervary - Hungary, spooky ghost flower, nightowlof2, Mondmaedchen, Siemsen, gintama200, phyllite, ravengal, not-philosophical, magicflyingmintbunnies, AllHellBrokeLoose666, GoneInASecond, Shikyoblossom20, theworldofhetalia, Acvodadkawall, skywolf2001
Special thank you: You might have noticed (or not) that the cover art for this story has changed. RebelsAdvocate kindly drew this montage of France & England, summing up the story brilliantly…
Driving Lessons Chapter 44 - Two Minutes to Midnight
"Bloody hell! Mr Kumajiro!" England exclaimed.
"Why on earth did you bring that?" Mr Kumajiro replied, pointing with one paw at France's naked form.
"I had no choice, I'm handcuffed!" England said.
"I know, man. It's bloody horrible," America piped up.
"This car's a bit nice, what's the fuel consumption on it? Do you need it? We need a car for our taxi-ing service," Prussia said looking round.
They were sat in a large black MPV/stretch limo type vehicle with seats facing each other. Namely, three very large muscular men in sunglasses facing them with Mr Kumajiro seated in the middle.
"You don't have a taxi service," Mr Kumajiro said to Prussia.
"Nah we don't. It's been a bit difficult trying to give 'backies' on my bike to customers. They don't seem to like it," Prussia said. He looked sad. Denmark clapped him on the shoulder to cheer him up. Neither mentioned that Prussia's bike was still a pink Barbie bike with tinsel handlebar streamers.
"Shut up! All of you!" Mr Kumajiro yelled suddenly. He looked stressed.
"Jeez what's up with him? Like a bear with a sore head!" America said and then realised he'd made a joke and laughed - loudly.
"Never mind all that, can you unfasten these handcuffs? I expect also you want to whisk me back to the Palace to sort out this ridiculous carry-on? Of course you might want to dump this lot," England said, pointing at his fellow Nations. He understood Mr Kumajiro's rage. But the polar bear hadn't had to put up with the morons for the last few weeks.
"No, you are all coming with me," Mr Kumajiro said.
"You mean us?" Prussia said.
"I said that."
"No you said you are all coming with me. You mean 'us', meaning you and them, it's not just you is it? So you should have said 'you are all coming with us', not me." Prussia said and pointed at the big men in sunglasses. "Why are they wearing sunglasses anyway? It's night-time!"
"Yeah, they're not the CIA!" America yelled.
"Are we prisoners?" Denmark asked, putting his oar in.
"Shut up all of you!" Mr Kumajiro shouted, his left eyelid twitched. He looked like a bear on the edge.
England understood the feeling. Or perhaps it was all this global warming or something?
"Bloody hell, I'm not putting up with this rubbish!" one of them yelled - probably Prussia, but it could easily have been Den or America.
England was just shocked.
"Be quiet! Tell them, Marcel!" Mr Kumajiro ordered one of the men.
"Another bloody French bloody name," England muttered. Honestly, he was sick of this now.
'Marcel' if that was indeed his name (although it is unclear if Mr Kumajiro gave people French names willy-nilly) took out his gun and pointed it at the four Nations (and the unconscious France, especially the unconscious France, who still had his drawn-on moustache and spectacles).
Prussia looked appalled at this. "Let's get him, Den!" he yelled and the two Nations lunged forward.
There was a tussle.
The other two henchmen attempted to get their guns out too. The MPV rocked from side to side and the driver slowed considerably.
England fell on the floor between the two seats and almost dragged France on top of him, which would have been a real disaster.
There was a bang as a gun went off.
England, like all English, did not like and feared guns, screamed a little girlishly and slammed himself down on the floor. His worst fears were realised though when France fell on top of him.
"Aaargh get this bloody drunken pervert off me!" he yelled.
France was rolled off him as Den shoved him out of the way and England was about to thank him but then realised that Den had done this just to get to Alfred.
He couldn't understand why at first and then he saw the bloom of red on the young American's chest.
"No! Alfred!" England sobbed and dragged himself back on the bench and pulled America's head onto his lap.
"You're fading, Artie dude!" America whispered.
"No!" England was distraught. They'd sometimes hadn't seen eye to eye. Especially over bedtimes, comics and who was better - Captain America or Captain Britain (who was definitely NOT gay England would forever ascertain), or even over Yorkshire puddings, the delights of mushy peas or whether it was chips or fries.
Prussia punched out one of the men, "You shot my friend! Nobody shoots my friend!"
"Actually, you tried to shoot him in the War, dude," Den said.
"Yeah but that was war, I mean nobody shoots my friends but me!" Prussia said to the now unconscious man.
"Alfred!" England sobbed and tried CPR (or CRP as America often called it).
"Stop kissing him dude! We know you're gay with dude France but give him some dignity!" Prussia yelled as the car careered around a corner.
"Alfred! Don't leave me with these morons!" England yelled in America's face.
"I won't!" Alfred said suddenly sitting up. "Aw man! Somebody shot my hamburger!" the American said looking down at the spreading red stain.
England sat back. "What?"
"Jeez that was a relief, I thought England had turned gay for you, man," Den said. (Of course, it wasn't a relief that America was alive, just a relief that England hadn't turn gay for him.)
"I'm not bloody gay!" England yelled. "I thought you were dead," he said to America.
"Dead? Why? Why did somebody shoot my hamburger?" America asked. He put a finger in the red stain and then licked it.
"Ketchup?" Prussia asked.
"Gotta have ketchup with a burger, man," America said.
England flung himself back on the seat and covered his head in his hands.
America punched out the other man, "You shot my burger!" he shouted. "Nobody shoots my burger!"
But it was too late, the MPV stopped just as America, Prussia and Denmark were trying to take the gun off the third man and Mr Kumajiro was standing on the seat yelling at them.
The doors were flung open and they were faced with an unsurmountable force (in America's words) and all of them were put in handcuffs. Except England. His were actually taken off. He had a brief respite where he thanked Mr Kumajiro profusely. "Thank you, old chap for freeing me from that French pervert. I knew you'd see it my way. Now take me back to the Palace and I will help avert World War Three."
But his relief was short-lived. Mr Kumajiro had other ideas.
"Leave the Frenchman there," he ordered to 'his' men. "Oh and lock the doors. We don't want him escaping…" Mr Kumajiro shuddered. He dreaded to think what damage a naked Frenchman could do to his 'operation'.
Clearly, England thought this as well, "Oh good, I'm glad you're seeing sense. Best place for him, in my view."
Mr Kumajiro was not interested in England's view at all. He instructed 'his' men that they should also fumigate the vehicle later. However, much to Prussia's delight (he was the only one who noticed) Mr Kumajiro's two unconscious bodyguards were left inside the car with France…
"I'm sure this can all be ironed out. Now first I need a nice cup of tea and perhaps a bourbon cream," England said, rubbing his hands. He ignored his fellow Nations in cuffs. Best thing for them in his view.
A black hood was thrown over his head and his hands were snapped in handcuffs. "I can't bloody see!" England said.
"Ja, Captain Obvious, neither can we!" Prussia yelled.
"Captain Obvious, is that like a proper superhero?" Denmark asked.
"Nope," America said with the confidence of someone who could do a BA in Superheroes. "It ain't. There's a Captain America and a Captain Britain…"
"Captain Britain is not bloody gay!" England yelled as they were led along. There was someone either side of him leading him none too carefully. He heard doors opening, then they were in an elevator.
"I wonder if it's going to be like one of those surprise birthday parties?" Den asked. He was trying to keep the excitement out of his voice.
So the elevator was big enough to contain all of them. Pretty big then. A big building? England thought to himself as he tried to work out where they were. Unfortunately as he'd been trying to bring round a 'wounded' America he hadn't had chance to check where Mr Kumajiro had been taking them.
"Don't be stupid, Den," Prussia was saying to Den. "Course it's not a birthday party!"
England sighed with relief - at least Prussia had realised the implications of their predicament.
"It's nobody's birthday today! Idiot!" Prussia said.
England sighed. "We're in Mr Kumajiro's lair, idiots," he said through gritted teeth.
"Polar bears don't have lairs. Do they?" America said. To England's utter disgust, he sounded like he was eating.
"Are you eating?"
"Yeah, I'm finishing off that hamburger before they shoot it again."
"They were trying to shoot you," England told him.
"No way!"
"Ja, I'm afraid the prissy English uptight maid is right," Prussia said.
"I am not uptight!" England yelled, sounding very uptight. (He didn't dispute the 'maid' bit though.)
"You are though," America said.
"How did you get that hamburger in your huge mouth if you've got handcuffs on?" England asked.
"Crammed it in when I saw the cuffs," America replied, as all heroes would, one assumes.
"This lift is taking ages, we must be deep underground…" England mused to himself, trying to ignore the munching next to him, Prussia's mindless humming and Denmark's loud breathing. His only consolation was that an oversexed France awaited those two unconscious thugs in that car.
"It's an elevator, dude," America said.
"It's a bloody lift."
"Elevator," America said.
"Will you all just shut up? Do you ever stop arguing? This is crazy!" a voice yelled at them.
England thought at first it was Germany. It was the kind of thing he would say. It was of course Mr Kumajiro. He sounded annoyed. If they could see him they would notice that his right eye had developed a twitch and he was texting Austria asking for an appointment at his next psychotherapy clinic.
There was a momentary silence. But only a moment.
"Man you're crazy. It's obviously Aufzug," Prussia said confidently.
"It's elevator," Denmark said.
"So it's the same as in American!" America said. He would have punched the air if he could.
"There is no 'American', you dolt," England said.
"It can't be lift. Lift is when you lift something," Prussia said.
"Don't you bloody lecture me on English," said England.
"Shut them up now," Mr Kumajiro ordered. He needed a drink. It was a fine achievement to drive a polar bear to alcohol.
Blackness overtook them as they were coshed on the backs of their heads.
No doubt the other Nations would have sympathised with Mr Kumajiro.
When England came round he was strapped to a chair but at least he could see. He also had an awful headache and his eyes hurt. Also there was no sign of America, Denmark and Prussia. Silence. He was parched though and really needed a cup of tea. It must be hours since his last one. He hadn't had a hot beverage since his visit to the Palace.
He looked round and felt distinctly odd. He really hoped France was still locked in that MPV.
He seemed to be underground in a huge room the size of a cathedral. But it was freezing. Ice crystals sparkled on the ceiling high above and the floor beneath him.
"What the bloody hell?" England muttered and then he saw the huge window - the size of his house - looking out onto dark gloom. "Is it raining outside? Are we in Putney?" he asked out loud, forgetting that he'd thought he was underground.
"God, you're stupid," came a voice. Mr Kumajiro came and stood in front him. "I can't believe 'they' said you were the clever one."
"Who?" England asked. Although he felt quite pleased that someone thought he was the clever one. Of course he was. The other Nations were bloody morons. Some of them were several nuggets short of a happy meal. Most were mentally unbalanced and that was being kind.
Mr Kumajiro did not answer but peered at him. "You've been getting in my way for quite a time, England," he said in a vaguely sinister way.
"Me? Why? Where were you going?"
"Don't act stupid with me. You will talk…"
"About what?"
"They said you'd be like this…"
"Like what?" England was genuinely baffled.
"Do you like my lair?" Mr Kumajiro asked, waving a paw around.
England looked round. There were big muscly guards surrounding them. "Not really. It's a bit cold to be honest. Can't you turn up the heating a bit?"
"Yes, global warming. You'd like that wouldn't you?"
"Not really. It doesn't affect me here in England, it's always bloody raining," England replied.
"Soon the whole world will be like this," Mr Kumajiro said, pointing at the ice.
"What? Cold and wet? This reminds of that weekend I once spent in Pontefract."
"IT IS NOT LIKE PONTEFRACT!" Mr Kumajiro yelled. The short polar bear strode off, jumped up onto a seat at a table and ate a piece of seal. He did not offer England anything.
"I don't suppose you have any tea?" England asked. He'd already worked out that Mr Kumajiro was playing the part of an evil mastermind. It was just a matter of time, England thought, before Mr Kumajiro cracked and then he (England) could get out and try rescuing his fellow Nations and then save the world. Or possibly just leave them for a bit - they just held him up. It might be easier to do it without them. Certainly Pru and Den were impediments.
"There is no tea!" Mr Kumajiro said.
England frowned. He now realised that the huge window was not looking out onto rain, not unless fish could fly through the air in London. They were underwater.
"Are we at the Sea Life Aquarium?" England asked, amazed. "I don't think you're supposed to go behind the exhibits like this."
"This is my lair!" Mr Kumajiro sounded really annoyed now. Honestly, did movie villains have this problem? Besides where had his bloody cat gone?
"Oh right…" England looked thoughtful. He was still looking out of the window. "I really think the Thames needs a clean-up don't you? Bloody hell there's a shopping trolley!"
"We need information from you," Mr Kumajiro said. "And we're willing to go to any lengths to get it."
"Really? A cup of tea would be just top. Milk with no sugar, thank you," England replied. "A digestive biscuit wouldn't go amiss either. Don't forget to put the milk in after the hot water. Make the water boiling as well or the tea won't brew properly. I can't abide lukewarm tea, can you?"
"There is just one piece left in the jigsaw to start Armageddon…"
"McVities if you have them," England continued, not listening and fixating on biscuits.
"And all our plans will be in place…"
"Start Armageddon?" England suddenly caught up. He was very very tired. It was, what, two or three o' clock in the morning?
"Did I say 'start'? I meant stop of course…" Mr Kumajiro said but didn't look very convincing. If a polar bear can look convincing at anything whilst eating a bit of seal.
"You're behind all this! Everything that's been happening…" England said slowly, realisation dawning.
"Yes I am," Mr Kumajiro said, "And you have no idea how high up this thing goes. The power behind me."
"So France failing his driving test was your fault!" England said as if a lightbulb had gone off above his head.
"No, that was him," Mr Kumajiro replied.
"That desk crashing through the window...?"
"That was you, England."
"Scotland declaring war on Gib...?"
"That was your fault, England."
"Russia disappearing!" England said. "That was definitely you! And Belarus declaring war on us!"
"All you again, England."
"The chaos in London and the massive traffic jam earlier…" England asked desperately. Surely not everything was his fault?
"That was you, Arthur, no wait that was the idiot American. Actually it was you because you let him get a job." Mr Kumajiro was sounding annoyed again.
"That dragon destroying that Chinese restaurant…" England said. "That wasn't my fault!"
"That was you, England, you annoyed Mr Ping."
"What about…" England scoured his memory. "My cake! I know I used the proper recipe."
"IT WAS YOU, ENGLAND!" Mr Kumajiro yelled. "IT'S ALL YOUR FAULT! ALL OF IT! WITH FRANCE AS WELL, BUT MAINLY YOU!"
"Being thrown off the allotment wasn't me though, that was Pru and Den." England said, as if Mr Kumajiro hadn't just spoken.
"No, you're right, that was the Allotment Society. You have no idea how powerful these people are."
"IT'S A BLOODY ALLOTMENT SOCIETY!" It was England's turn to yell. "How can they be bloody powerful?"
Mr Kumajiro just stared at him and didn't answer.
Unseen by them a dragon swam past the giant window.
"Besides the other nations will be along any minute to stop this," England said confidently and more quietly.
"Oh you really think so do you?"
Mr Kumajiro pressed a button and a screen lit up. A very large television screen split into dozens of smaller screens.
To England's incredulity there were various of his fellow Nations going about their business. And he also realised that it must be much later than he'd thought. He also realised that the other Nations were actually just as boring as he was.
Ukraine was doing some kind of exercise that involved her bouncing around energetically. Her boobs were also bouncing around energetically. England looked away quickly.
Hungary was shooting arrows into a dummy with unerring accuracy. The dummy had a photograph attached to its head. The photograph was of England's face. He had no idea what he'd done to upset her.
Germany was doing push-ups. There was a book lying on the floor next to him: 'Reasons I'm a better nation than England'.
Italy was asleep somewhere that looked suspiciously like the room Germany was in.
Romano was still in his pizza delivery van, looking very moody and chatting up a woman in the next car. Presumably the traffic jam caused by America was still occurring.
Austria was filling in his expense claim form, his calculator by his side.
Lithuania appeared to be lying on a bed with a cold flannel over his eyes, presumably suffering from another migraine caused by…
…Poland who was sat in a bathtub, painting his toenails a garish pink, wearing a facemask and a polka dot shower cap and surrounded by telephones (the gossip chain).
Sealand was being dragged out of Sweden and Finland's kitchen by a harrassed looking Sweden, whose glasses were askew. Evidently the child did not wish to go to school. Or somewhere. It could be the destination was England's house for all England knew. He hoped not.
There was another camera that showed England's kitchen - he recognised the 'I heart Blackpool' mug, the packet of Rich Tea biscuits and the Gardeners World magazine left on the table. Thankfully, there were no Nations there.
England dragged his eyes away, as fascinating as it was, especially when he saw China doing Tai Chi in the Chinese Embassy's garden.
"You've been spying on me! On all of us! Wait 'til I tell…" he stopped and looked at the scariest Nation. Belarus. She was practising her knife skills on a dartboard. There was a photograph pinned up on the bulls eye. It looked like him. Did they all hate him? "…Belarus!" he finished with glee.
Mr Kumajiro ignored him. "We need the key to your allotment shed," the bear told him.
"What? What on earth for?" England said.
"You heard me."
"I have no idea where it is..." England began to say.
"Guards! Men! Search him…"
England was lifted up, pummelled, poked, patted down… it was like being stuck with France again. "I don't have it! I have no idea where it is!"
"Take him away!" Mr Kumajiro said.
"Wait… I might remember if you give me tea…"
But it was no use.
A hood was placed over his head and again he was thrown in an elevator, marched down a corridor and thrown into a cell with three idiots.
"Oh no… not you three…" He groaned when he heard the voices (he was still blind and still cuffed).
"Yo, it is elevator…"
"Told yer…"
"Nah you're both wrong…"
England could not believe they were still arguing about that. What on earth were they going to do? Clearly, Mr Kumajiro had nefarious plans of his own and seemed to be pushing for a war. But why? And to what end? And why did they want the key to his allotment shed? And why did he still have a hood over his head?
"What time is it?" he asked his three companions. He hoped one of them could at least tell the time.
"About half past three." That was America.
"What?"
"Half past three, get your hearing aid in, grandma." Came Prussia's voice.
"It can't be. The Nations were all doing morning stuff when I saw them and it's not afternoon, we haven't been here that long," England said.
"Nations? We're being rescued?"
"No, I mean er…" England still felt dirty having spied on the other Nations.
"Oh yeah…" Alfred was saying, "Nine o' clock."
"Idiot, do you have your watch on upside down again? I've told you before." England said.
Silence.
"So we have less than 15 hours to find Russia and save the world." England said glumly.
"Yeah. You're never going to find him in that hood, dude." That sounded like Denmark.
"How can you tell I have a hood on?"
"Erm we can see you!" Prussia said. "Jeez…"
"You mean you're not wearing a blasted hood?" England yelled and then found someone actually taking the hood off and he stared at Prussia, Denmark and America all sat around looking morose. They weren't wearing handcuffs. He was.
"Damn you all!" he said dramatically and sat in a corner, fuming.
Who could come and rescue them? France sans pantalons? He shuddered.
To be continued…