America was sitting outside the coffee shop in a bright red coat when Germany showed up, absently stirring her drink. Whatever it was, it was strong- Germany could smell it even without sitting down, caffeine and artificial sweetener.

"Hey, Germany," she said, looking up. "Sorry I already ordered, but it's freezing right now and also they don't sell donuts here for some reason. Weird." America gestured to the chair opposite. "Dude, get something to drink and sit down."

He did- hot chocolate- and sat, wondering where exactly he was supposed to look in situations like this. America was a friend of his, they had actually talked about things besides work on multiple occasions, and as if it wasn't already awkward enough being on a- on a date without the other person involved being America-

Fingers snapped in front of his face. "You there?"

Germany jerked his head up. "I— yes. Sorry."

"Nah, it's okay. So have you got any idea why Vene told me to be here?"

Oh. America didn't know. Germany didn't know if this made the situation better or worse, because he could lie and say no, no idea but then America would find out like she always did but if he said yes, he's trying to set us up- he didn't know what would happen.

Better sooner than later, Germany told himself, and said "He's— ah— he's trying to… set me up on dates."

"He's what now?" Oh, that smile was way too big for America to not have heard him.

"Trying to get me a date," Germany grumbled, staring into the hot chocolate.

America snickered loudly, entirely cognizant of Germany's blushing, and downed more of her coffee. Germany shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "Stop laughing, please."

"Sorry, man. So. We're on a date." America's smile was worse than Hungary's and Russia's put together, equal parts knowing and gleeful and oh-everybody's-going-to-love-this-when-they-hear-a bout-it. "Is England gonna have to give you the shotgun talk?" She paused, and then continued, voice full of mock concern. "Is Prussia gonna give me the shotgun talk— oh wait, that'd probably actually be really scary. Did I ever tell you about the time in the Revolutionary War when he—"

"Yes. So did he." Also, probably Germany's entire family would get involved in any future shotgun talks, but that was beside the point. "Um. So." Small talk, small talk, how did one go about making small talk? He knew that was what was supposed to happen on… first dates, but how? What did America like? "Did— did anything interesting happen in, ah—" oh, what sports did America follow- "baseball?"

"Baseball season doesn't start for another month."

"Oh. I meant football."

"Yours or mine?"

"Yours."

"Football season doesn't start until fall. Nice try, though." America took another gulp of coffee. "How'd Vene even get you to agree to this?"

"I- I don't know. He just did."

"Huh." America nodded to herself. "So he's setting you up with… girls?"

"Yes? Why?"

"Oh, nothing." Now she was shaking her head just a little. "Nothing. So since it's with girls, I guess Vene's not on the list?"

What? "Why would he be—!" Why would Veneziano set himself up with Germany, of all people-

America snickered again. "Nothing. No reason— oh, man, look at the time, I have to go do family bonding with Canada, sorry. See you soon?"

"Yes."

She stood, and so did Germany. "Nice talking to you, man." And then she- oh God she hugged him, even if it was one-armed, she hugged him, what was Germany supposed to do with this? All he knew was standing there like some sort of plank probably was not how one reciprocated a hug from a friend, but how did one do that?

And then it wasn't a problem anymore, at least not immediately, because America pulled back and said "See you around" and then jogged off down the sidewalk and around the corner and left Germany with a cup of lukewarm hot chocolate and some questions for Veneziano, the first of which would be "Why America?"

The rest… he'd figure them out later.