~ 5 ~

"Scheiße!"

This was followed by a series of sneezes.

"I told you. You should have brought a coat along."

"Yeah, well you should have brought an umbrella. This is your country. How could you not know it was going to rain?"

England eyed Prussia's pink face with annoyance and shook his head. "Stop acting like a child."

Prussia just grumbled and crossed his arms over his chest to keep warm. His red eyes swept over the drenched street. People were running and ducking inside shops. Others, who had had the foresight to bring umbrellas, were walking rapidly, necks buried deep in their jackets.

He felt his nose tickle and he sneezed. He cursed again in German and slumped even further against the wall.

He felt a cold arm on his bicep and whined in protest as England led him out into the rain.

"What the fuck!"

"Oh, belt up. I'm just making our way over to that little tea house across the street. It's bound to be much warmer and you can order something to warm yourself up."

That appealed to him and he hurried alongside England. When they entered the shop, they saw that it was crowded. England spotted an empty table off in the corner. "Hurry. Go over there and warm up. I'll order for us."

Prussia was too miserable to protest. He was glad Gilbird had stayed back in England's house. She wouldn't have been too happy about getting wet. He leaned back in his chair and barely glanced over when England joined him.

"The teas should arrive shortly. I took the liberty to order some sandwiches incase you were hungry."

"Thanks."

They sat in companionable silence, interrupted only when a waitress brought over their tea and…something.

Prussia did a double take. What in the hell…was this? He poked at it and lifted one up to show England. "What is this?"

England frowned. "A sandwich."

"I know that but why is it tiny? How is this supposed to fill me up?" He held it on his palm for reference and looked offended.

The Englishman clicked his tongue and poured cream in his tea. "It's not. Might I remind you that this is a tea house, not a restaurant."

Prussia peeled the bread back and eyeballed the cucumbers in disbelieve. "It doesn't even have cheese or ham. This isn't even a real sandwich." He stuffed it in his mouth anyway. Swallowing, he said, "Blah! Why couldn't you have ducked into a real food place?"

A kick to his shins set him in his place. "Fuck," he hissed as he rubbed at the sour area. He tried to kick England back but he'd moved his legs out of reach. Prussia debated for a moment if throwing his plate of mini sandwiches was worth getting kicked out of the shop. By the look of the pouring rain, that was a big fat no and he grudgingly sat to drink his tea.

"I would have preferred coffee," he said, hoping that would get a rise out of the British man.

"Too bad," he said instead. "I'm paying anyway so what do you have to complain about?"

"I would have paid if I had the money," he mumbled and stuffed another mini sandwich in his mouth.

Prussia had to admit, the tea warmed him right up to the point that he could forgive the poor excuse for sandwiches. His nose wasn't runny and the tickle in his throat was gone. He started playing with his spoon as he watched the rain outside and suddenly he felt melancholic.

Before his brain could catch up with his mouth he said, "Man, I feel old."

The Brit set his cup of tea down and gave Prussia a look. "Don't we all," he finally said.

But Prussia shook his head and leaned his head on his hand. "Maybe. But sitting here just makes me want to go back to the days when I'd join my men into battle. Those days were awesome, where we'd go marching towards our enemy, swords or guns ready and just fight."

He heard England hum in agreement. "I suppose I feel like that sometimes too. I sometimes find myself missing the feel of the waves beneath my feet and the smell of the ocean breeze." He grinned. "Remember the Seven Years War?"

Prussia laughed. "France's face when we won. Epic awesomeness. Wish I'd had an artist with me."

"We could have captured his face for eternity."

The air between them had lightened. "Those were good times. Our Anglo-Prussian alliances were great. You were awesome to hang out with in those times. You could hold your liquor better back then."

"Hey! I can still hold my liquor you bloody twat!"

"Kesese! Limey, I saw you drunk last month. You ripped your shirt off and started crying about how America is an ungrateful brat. Same old, same old. At least when you got drunk back in the eighteenth century you were more likely to start a brawl rather than rant and get all depressed."

They settled back in their seats.

The albino heard England's sudden chuckle and gave him a questioning look. "Look at us. Reminiscing. I don't know whether to find this sad or pleasant."

"Hey, I have a right to reminisce. I'm a retired nation. You can't use the same excuse."

"Maybe. But I do believe I'm older than you."

"What's this? Admitting that you're an old man?"

"Oh shut up."

Prussia laughed and gulped down the last of his tea. He leaned back in his chair and momentarily closed his eyes. The sound of the tea house disappeared to the back of his mind. Images of his kings, Old Fritz, his men, Napoleon, England in his privateer outfit, France and Spain. Those were the good old days.

"I suddenly feel the urge to get pissed," England said out of the blue.

Prussia snapped upright and grinned in agreement. "Yeah, me too." He looked out the window. "The rain hasn't let up though." But England was already up and Prussia had no choice but to follow him.

The blast of cold air hit Prussia like a punch in the face and he immediately started shivering. "Aw, there goes all my progress." He frowned when he saw England heading towards another shop. "Where are we going?"

"To get you something warmer."

Before Prussia could say anything England had already entered a small little clothes shop. He caught up to England who was inspecting some large jackets. He held one out for Prussia to inspect. But the albino ignored it in favor of a black sweater with a skull and eagle. He grabbed it in excitement and held it out.

"Whoa! It has the black eagle on it. Didn't know British people enjoyed my flag this much."

England took it wordlessly. On his way to the cash register he also picked up a plain blue umbrella.

While Prussia waited for the transaction to finish up, it occurred to him that he was allowing England to buy him something. He suddenly felt like a girl. "It's okay though," he whispered. "I'll pay him back." Eventually.

He cried out in alarm when the sweater was thrown at his face. He yanked it off rapidly and pushed the Englishman harshly. "What the hell En-uh-Iggy." He almost chuckled nervously at the curious gaze of the shop keeper.

"Come on," England said, grabbing Prussia's shirt collar and dragging him outside. The cold hit him again and he immediately wiggled out of the Brit's hold to put on the sweater. He couldn't stop the sigh of contentment from escaping his lips. As he basked in the warmth, he tried to ignore England's very obvious smug smile.

"Better?" he asked.

"What do you think?"

"Are you ready to head to the pub?"

"Hell to the yes!"

A/N: Hello! So I updated and I kinda like this chapter. I'm not sure why myself but it was fun writing. Once again, any mistakes in spelling and grammar, be sure to tell me so I can go back and fix them. I would also love to hear what you think about this story.

Notes:

The Seven Year War was probably best bud days for England and Prussia (although I doubt they saw each other that much). It was them against France and Austria. It established Britain as the greatest colonial power and Prussia as the greatest power in the continent. This truly was, the peak of their golden days. No wonder when they think about their glory days, that's where their minds will be drawn to.