Hi guys, McFishy! I've got great news; I learned what a McFishy is! No, it's not my username… Oh wait, yeah it is… What I mean is that it's a sandwich that was created in Britain… So now I feel traitorous since I'm a burger-loving American… Oh well! I'm sure Alfred will be fine with that! Anyways, in more fanfics I'll be writing I'll use the real names because I've remembered almost all of them. But in this specific fanfic I'll have to use the country names, it would be a little weird if it just suddenly changed… And this is not a USxUK fanfic! Well, anyways, ~Hasta La Pasta!
~o0o~
England slapped the alarm clock he placed next to him; it was now 6:50. He rubbed the sand out of his eyes and sat up on the leather couch. America was soundly sleeping next to him, he looked so peaceful but in 10 minutes he would turn part fairy. England could put his plan into action now, so he got up and walked into the kitchen. He started the tea and coffee maker, both of the brown liquids started to pour out.
England watched the sun over the low lying bushes that surrounded America's back yard, the pool water glistened white and reflected the colors of the sky; blue, orange, and yellow. America shuffled a bit in his sleep but continued his slumber. England observed America as his left leg twitched for a few moments, he shook his head, and snuggled his spot. He understood how he could be cute.
He remembered the drinks and pushed a button on both machines to make them stop. He poured America a large mug and himself a small cup of tea. He slowly carried America's mug into the living room and sat it down on the coffee table. He nudged his brother and asked him to get up.
"America… America!..." America whined a bit and shut his eyes tighter. "I've made you a cup of coffee!" America's eyes shot open and England lunged backwards, the coffee table supported him and he caught himself. America sat up with his hands held out; a pleading smile was lodged on his young face. England realized that he wasn't trying to hurt him and handed him his cup of coffee. America grabbed the remote and switched the TV onto the news.
Plan A has succeeded, maybe today would turn out a bit better. Then England started to wonder about how he would stop America from sleeping for three hours for the rest of his life… Maybe now would be a good time to break it to him.
"America?" His brother swallowed his bit of coffee.
"Yeah bro?" England dragged out the explanation out of fright.
"Last night, when you went to buy the burgers, I kind of…uh, laid a…curse on…you!" He tensed up, ready for a punch.
"So?" England did a double-take.
"Wait, what? So? What do you mean? I laid a curse on you!" America shrugged.
"How many of your spells have actually worked?" England thought for a moment. How many actually have worked?
"When I summoned Russia it worked."
"You didn't mean to summon Russia though; you wanted a demon from hell!" England considered this.
"I cursed Russia with bad food!" America held up a finger.
"But Japan got the curse instead!" England gave up.
"I know this one will work though, I had a dream about the after affects! You'll through me off the deck!" America shook his head.
"It won't work bro. None of them have, so why would this one?" England watched him get up out of his seat. "Now if you'll excuse me I need to use the bathroom." He walked down the hall and disappeared around the corner.
~Time Skip~
England started to become suspicious; America had been in the bathroom for a long time. He never took this long when he still lived with England. So the British decided to inspect. He didn't plan to walk in on him, just knock on the door or something. He got up and placed his empty tea cup in the sink.
When he turned the corner, he could see some light leaking from the bottom of the bathroom door. He tiptoed over to the door and knocked, but the door wasn't shut all the way. So it swung open slightly.
"America, are you in there?" No response. "America?" He opened up the door and saw no one, just an empty bathroom. He switched the light off and ran to grab his coat, expecting that America had made a run for it. He stopped after sticking one arm in the sleeve. He could hear snoring; he followed the sound and stopped in front of America's door.
He sighed out of disbelief, but left him alone. Another three hours of sleep for both of them would be nice. He checked the clock on the stove; it blinked for 7:10. So at about 10 he'd need to wake America back up. He decided to make breakfast in the meantime; all he really wanted right now was a few pieces of buttered toast.
So he plugged in the red toaster and dropped in two pieces of bread, he grabbed the margarine and patiently waited for a 'ding' to sound out. After a while, smoke started to rise from the toaster and the fire alarm sounded out. England panicked and unplugged the machine; he grabbed a towel and fanned the smoke away. After the obnoxiously loud sound stopped, he flipped the toaster and two pieces of charcoal popped out. He sighed; curse America and his stupid technology.
He decided to settle for a packet of icing used for a toaster strudel, he ripped one off of its group and got a rag and ran it under hot water. He placed it on top of the packet and waited for a second. The fire alarm rang out once again, England glanced at the dead toaster, and it looked fine. He stared down at the packet of icing; smoke was rising from the wet rag.
"What the…" He whispered, he grabbed a cup and filled it with ice cold water. When he turned back to the burning items his jaw dropped, it was now alight with a small, orange flame. "How is that even possible?" He screamed, he ran over and dumped the water over the flaming rag. It was put out and he sighed. His life was too weird.
~Time Skip~
Two and a half hours had passed, time for America to get up. England ran to his brothers' room while time was still precious and knocked on the door. America stirred in his bed but didn't get up, so England tried again.
"America, I need you to help me make breakfast, I tried to make toast but… you know…" America sighed and got up; he opened the door and slipped past England into the kitchen. He saw a scorched rag and an unplugged toaster.
"Bro, did you try to cook the rag?" England shook his head.
"I was making toast when the toaster started smoking, so I settled for some icing. I got a warm rag and melted the icing when it magically caught on fire!" America smirked.
"Did you cast a spell, bro?" England started fuming.
"Just make breakfast!" America shrugged and grabbed a pan. England decided to go and watch some news.
~America's POV~
Oatmeal and scrambled eggs for breakfast it was! I got out a tiny frying pan and a pot then set them on the stove, I turned them on and got out the ingredients for the meal itself. I'll skip to when the breakfast is done so you won't get bored or anything, who would want to read about how to make oatmeal and scrambled eggs anyways?
I set down two plates and scraped out the eggs for both of them, and oatmeal into two bowls. I set one plate in England's lap and got settled on the couch, I focused on eating my breakfast instead of watching television. I heard England gasp and turned my head to what was going on.
"I just remembered, thank you for breakfast." He turned back to watching daytime television and I went back to eating. I noticed he hadn't even touched his meal; his spoon was still dry in his hand.
"Artie, you going to eat your breakfast?" His eyes widened and he stabbed his spoon into his oatmeal, he moved the huge glob into his mouth and chewed. I turned my gaze to what he was watching on TV, something on the Health channel. Glorious. "Can we watch something else? I don't want to think my eggs are actually hunks of skin while I'm eating them…" He shook his head and kept his gaze sealed to the TV. I didn't want to be grossed out, so I watched his expression until I finished my breakfast.
I laid my plate and bowl down on the coffee table and curled up into ball, laying my head on the armrest. I closed my eyes and fell asleep even with the television emitting sound.
~England's POV~
When the show ended, I looked down at my untouched eggs and oatmeal. They looked somewhat disgusting so I picked up America's dish and brought them both into the kitchen; I set them into the sink and glanced at the clock. The arms pointed at 1:45. I walked back into the living to the room to check for another good show to watch, Alfred was passed out on the couch. How cute!
I picked up the remote and clicked it to guide, the previous show I had watched started at 11:50. Wait a tick… I'm forgetting something… Something important… The spell!
"America! Wake up, come on!" I shook him by the shoulders, he said something in a slow mumble and then jolted up.
"What happened? Did you try cooking again?" I yelled back at him.
"No, you just need to stay awake!" He stared at me for a moment; I was getting worried that this would be a repeat of last night. But instead, he stood up, grabbed his coat and walked out the door. I ran over to a window and watched him walk down the road; I didn't bother to stop him. He didn't get his wallet so he couldn't rent a night at a motel.
I walked back into the living room and sat down on the couch, what was he doing? Probably just going for a stroll, nothing to worry about… I hope.
~America's POV~
I paced myself going down the curved sidewalk, my footsteps were the only thing to be heard along the path. I was furious with Arthur; he had really crossed the line. I don't know what made him believe that he really cursed me but it obviously wasn't true, none of them ever worked. I was going to set him straight, so I was walking to a friend's house. Artie wasn't too fond of him though.
I turned into the 'friends' driveway and walked up the stone steps to the front door, I rang the bell and waited. From an open window on the second floor I heard a response.
"One moment~!" I stretched out my mouth into a frown; I wasn't amused at this gesture. He did it nearly every time, and whatever he did wouldn't take 'one moment'. After a while, Francis finally opened the door. He was in an unbuttoned dress shirt, black jeans, and he had his hair back into a ponytail. He had on a seductive smile like he was expecting a girl or something, when he realized it was an adult male that he personally knew his smile faded. "Oh, it's only you, so what do you want?"
"Arthur thinks that he's laid some sort of a curse on my and is not letting me get any sleep, you need to help me smack some sense into him." That seductive smile returned at the mention of my brothers' name.
"Ohonhon~, so the petit tea-bagger has lost his marbles, no? Well, I'm sure that this will be fun, let me grab a few things to make this a bit more interesting. Oh, and make him come over to my place instead, I've got just the thing for him to regain his senses!" I didn't like the thought of going into Frances home, but if I could get back to my regular sleeping pattern I'd bear through it…
France closed the door and I trotted across the lawn. I wondered what France would honestly do to the both of us; I knew better than to believe he was going to act like a psychologist and have us talk out our problems. Since this was the perverted French, it would probably be something more like being tortured while we were naked or something. No Al, don't jinx it! Unless you actually want to be tortured while in your skin.
This chapter is finally done! It took a long time because I was running out of ideas, but now I've got the third chapter for you guys! Anyways, I've got another fanfiction that's taken a big hit, please go and check it out, it's called Hetalia Questionnaire. Well, I'd like some more reviews so I could get more ideas for the next chapter. Oh well, ~Hasta La Pasta!
