A/N: Welcome back to "Flight Cancelled"! Thank you for continuing on to the next chapter~ Once again, rated for mild language and suggestive situations. And again, this is a yaoi fanfic (AmericaXEngland).
Disclaimer: I DO NOT own Hetalia: Axis Powers or any of its characters!
Setting: The International Airport of England
***
The noise of the airport was unbearable. The various screeches, squeals, and squeaks of the people dragging their rolling luggage behind them pounded against Arthur's throbbing head as the headache worsened. He squeezed his eyes shut, massaging his temples with his own luggage-free hands.
It was at times like this that one would wish that he could freeze time, temporarily halting the lives of the others around him while simultaneously continuing with his own.
But he knew that no matter how tightly he squeezed his eyes shut, nor how hard he rubbed his fingers into his head, he couldn't stop the people or, better yet, make them disappear altogether.
As he navigated the way through the airport, he got a few strange looks. He figured it was probably due to his obvious lack of luggage; well, that, or due to the fact that he looked like a zombie straight out of "Night of the Living Dead".
Absentmindedly, he reached into his coat pocket that didn't contain his cellphone and drew out a small slip of thick paper with flight information and a time printed in bold directly in the center. According to the ticket, his flight was number 34A, a direct route-as well as first-class- to China.
"Should be simple enough..." he mumbled, coming up on the large digital sign that displayed all of the flights that would be departing from the airport that morning.
Utterly and terribly wrong.
The sign may not have been too large, but the small, red words and numbers that flitted acrosst it definately weren't large, either.
This certainly wasn't doing anything to help his mood, which was approaching a marker that existed even past outraged every minute that went by.
Finally giving up at the mercy of the sign, the Britt marched up to the customer service desk where the clerk was having an animated leisure conversation with a man who was identifiably an Italian.
Great. It was the convenience store episode all over again.
"No way! So then what happened?" The clerk was asking in an annoying, high-pitched voice that rivaled only with the sounds of the luggage.
"Well, I told Alfredo; Alfredo, I says 'Why not replace your carpet with tile? I mean, who's ever heard of carpeting in a kitchen before?' And Alfredo said-"
Arthur had stopped listening to the Italian's babbling long before then. His patience was finally shot. He was tired of being polite. So, he shoved himself to the front of the line, and in turn recieved quite a few dirty looks.
Once at the front, he slammed his palms down on the cool marble of the counter, causing both the clerk and the Italian to jump a bit. "Sorry to interrupt your important conversation," he whispered irritably in an overly-polite voice, "but I need to know where my flight terminal is."
Slapping the ticket down in front of her seemed to get the girl clerk into gear and she hastily fumbled to pick it up and scan her eyes acrosst it. When she had finished, she looked up with a frown, nervousness in her eyes.
"I'm sorry, sir, but that flight's been cancelled," she answered slowly, carefully choosing her words.
By now, Arthur should've been used to this. He knew it was foolish to think this, but he couldn't help to think that perhaps tea had some magical property of luck that was why he'd been having nothing but bad luck since he'd ran out. Yes, it had to be that.
"Alright, then. Is there any way possible to exchange it for another available flight?"
"I can check," the clerk answered, backing away from the counter to disappear into a back room.
Arthur drummed his fingertips on the counter as he waited for her to return, and while he was doing this, he felt the prescence of eyes on him. A glance to the side revealed who's eyes they were.
Apparently, the Italian hadn't gotten the message to buzz off and take his jabber elsewhere. So, being the gentleman that he was, Arthur thought he could help him further grasp the clue.
"So, what did Alfredo say next?" he asked in a growling tone, his thick brows furrowed, making him look truly pissed off.
The Italian gulped, uttered a slight yelp and, finally, retreated with the British country smirking happily after him.
A few other people left the line also, for England without his tea was almost as scary as Russia.
...Almost
"Alright, there is only one other flight scheduled to leave to China today..." she looked at her watch, "Actually, it should be leaving right now." she finished matter-of-factly.
"Well then hand me the bloody tickets and tell me where to go!" he yelled, her all-too-relaxed voice grating at his battered nerves.
The girl obeyed, seeming equally eager to get the irritable and maybe even slightly insane man out of her hair. "The terminal is down the right hall and the third one on your left." she informed.
He took off with nothing so much as a thank-you. It was a wonder that the girl had even managed to get hired.
The passageway to the airplane was just being closed as he dashed up to the terminal the clerk had described. "Hold the plane!" he ordered, revealing his ticket to the lady at the podium in front of the passage.
She took his ticket, ripped the stub off, then paged in to the pilot with a speaker. "Let the man through." she barked back at the passageway supervisors whom immediately parted to let him through.
Once he got in, he settled down into the 3rd class seat (having been too late to acquire first class) for the next grueling 12 hours in which he would be kicked in the back by some annoying little brat, denied beverages from the flight attendants, and sleep for hours on end.
A/N: Alright! End of Chapter 2! The next chapter is sure to be a funny one, so stick around!