A/N I thought it might be fun to show you America's reaction to what went on in Ch. 7 (in addition to continuing the story). (PS while this is my longest chapter to date, my beta-reader had no problem with it and said that it didn't "read" like a long chapter, or something along those lines). Enjoy! ^_^
Step 8: Alakazam! Nothing Up My Sleeve (right?)
"Now clean up that mess you made," Arthur pointed at the pile of clothes on Alfred/Amelia's bed. He walked out of her room, shutting the door behind him.
"'Now clean up that mess you made'," she mocked, faking a British accent. She stuck her tongue out at the closed door and pouted slightly. I still needed to get ready. She looked at her face in the mirror on the dresser across the room. At least I don't need to worry about makeup, according to the ladies at that makeup counter.
They had refused to sell her anything but lip gloss. "You are a natural beauty, and you shouldn't hide that under makeup," the head sales clerk had said. Alfred/Amelia didn't know what they meant by that, but Matthew had told her it was a good thing.
When she had stopped at a hair salon to get tips on how to style her hair, the stylists were more than happy to play with it for almost an hour. They had shown her how to use a curling iron; she glanced over at the device and remembered how hot it had felt hovering near her face. In my opinion, that thing could be dangerous in the wrong hands, she mused. I want to get started on my hair before I forget how to use it, but . . . She sighed. . . . I'd better do this now, or I'll hear it from Artie later.
She packed the "Bald Eagle", "Bison", and "Baseball" costumes all in the same bag. Good thing I kept the tags on all of these, Alfred/Amelia thought. Otherwise, I'd never get my money back for all these rejects. The tag from her current costume started to itch, reminding her she hadn't removed it yet. She unzipped the dress from under the arm, removed the tag, and then zipped it up again.
Alfred/Amelia put the underwear from La Senza back in its bag: one set of royal plum, red, and blue. She was wearing the forest-green ones. She blushed as she thought about the colors she'd picked.
"Arthur-san says his favorite colors are forest green, royal plum, red, and blue," Kiku had texted her earlier.
Alfred/Amelia had felt the blush all the way to her ears as she texted back, "Why should I care what colors that old man likes? What are you trying to imply?"
"I'm not implying anything," he had texted. "He's the only other man in the room, so I asked him. If you want, I could ask Elizabeta instead."
"No, no. Don't do that!" she had texted him.
"Honestly, Alfred-kun, why'd you jump on that so quickly, hmm (~_^)?" Kiku had teased.
"You . . . I'll text you later," she had texted back before putting her cell phone away. She had still picked the colors Kiku had shared with her, but it was only because they looked good on her . . . no other reason than that. All the same, when Mattie had asked, it had embarrassed her to have to admit the colors her "boyfriend" had suggested were Arthur's favorites, so she'd ignored the question. Lucky for her, Mattie knew her well enough to drop the subject when she did something like that.
She noticed a flash of royal blue on the bed. The swimsuit and satin sash had been buried under all the other costumes. I can still return this one, can't I? If not, maybe Belgium or Hungary would want it, Alfred/Amelia thought as she picked up the suit. All of the other female nations might be either too big or too small to fit it.
As she looked down at the suit, her thoughts were brought immediately back her and Arthur's "little argument" about it. She'd lost, and that had upset her. Her new body's center of gravity was lower now, and she still wasn't used to it, so she'd lost her balance.
She had glared up at Arthur and had noticed that he had the weirdest expression on his face. His cheeks were flushed . . . probably from the "fight" . . . and he looked at her as if he was seeing her for the first time. She noticed how pretty his eyes looked in the setting sunlight and felt her heart beat a little faster as she looked into them. They held eye contact for what seemed like forever when—
"Dammit!" Arthur yelled and ran out of the room before she could ask him where he was going or why.
Alfred/America sat up and looked at the door he'd slammed behind him. She touched her wrist and tried to figure out what had just happened. Her heart felt like it was going to pound out of her chest, and her whole body tingled. "What the hell? What's going on?" she screamed as she buried her face in a pillow on the bed.
She rolled over and looked up at the canopy on the bed. What kind of a reaction was that just now? It's just England, she told herself, pressing her hands to her warm face. Think of Gil in a bikini. The image that popped in her head made her whole body cool down in almost an instant.
A couple of minutes passed, and Arthur still hadn't returned to the room. What if Artie's mad at me for being so stubborn? Alfred/Amelia mused. She got up and changed into her "America the Beautiful" costume. She still needed his opinion on the other costumes. She grabbed a blanket and covered herself with it so that she could ask him to come back to her room without exposing her "costume" to anyone in the hallway.
After they returned to the bedroom, she showed off her new costume. Arthur looked like he didn't understand the costume so she explained by singing the song it was symbolizing. "America! America—" she sang saluting the imaginary flag in her mind.
"T-t-that will do. I know the song," Arthur interrupted. He marched over to her, picked up the blanket, and draped it over her shoulders so that it covered her entire body, except for her head. "C-c-costume rejected," he said, pulling the blanket closed.
What's the big deal? Alfred/Amelia wondered as she looked at Arthur. Is he worried I'll get cold or something? She noticed that his face was flushed again and felt her face react in kind. Then she noticed a little piece of white tissue was in his right nostril. "What happened to your nose?" she asked.
He touched his nose with his right hand, still holding the blanket closed with his left. He pulled his hand away and the tissue was gone.
Maybe. . . I mean . . . I still feel as strong as I did when I was a guy . . . "Did I hit your nose when I was smacking at you earlier?" she proposed. It can't be because of the other reason you get bloody noses. Kiku had explained about that when an anime character had gotten one in a show they were watching. After all, this is Artie, and he doesn't think of me that way, right?
Arthur released the blanket, folded his arms, closed his eyes and lifted his chin to the sky. "You should be more careful with that brute strength of yours," he said, sounding slightly angry.
I knew it. I guess I'm still a klutz, even in this new body . . . poor Artie, she thought, reaching out and grabbing his hand. I need to make sure he's all right before we go downstairs . . . Weird. He's not resisting, she mused as she led him over to the chair he'd sat in earlier.
When they reached the chair, she gently pushed him to get him to sit, and once again, he offered no resistance. Geez, I wish it was this easy to get him to do things for me all the time, she thought as she took hold of his face using only her fingers. As she scanned his face, she felt the blanket slip off her shoulders. "It doesn't look like there's any bruising or scratches or anything," she said. "I'd feel so embarrassed if I had to explain that you were all bruised up because of me." She noticed for the first time how warm his face felt and how close their faces were; a wave of nervousness flowed over her, and she laughed to hide it.
He laughed a little in return and looked down and away from her face.
Huh? Why is he . . . ? Alfred/Amelia wondered when she saw blood start to flow from his nose again. "Oh no. You're bleeding again," she said. "Quick! Pinch your nose."
Arthur grabbed his nose with his right hand.
She ran over to where her suitcase was and grabbed a smaller bag out of the dressing table's drawer, unzipping it quickly. Tissues . . . tissues . . . tissues from Kiku's. . . she thought as she pushed aside the toothbrush, toothpaste and other toiletries in the bag. She smiled at the the little rhyme she had just made up and continued it until she spotted something pink. Ah-ha, here we go. She grabbed it and walked back over to where he was sitting. She picked up Arthur's hand and put the tissues in it. "I got a ton of these when I went to visit Kiku," she said. "Those people are so considerate. I love free stuff."
"Thank you Al . . . Amelia," he said, grabbing a tissue out of the packet and taking care of his bloody nose with it.
"Okay. Costume rejected, then," she had said, smiling at him. "I've got a few others. Hang on." She had grabbed several of the shopping bags and hopped back on the bed, pulling the curtains closed. It had gone immediately dark, so she had dug out the flashlight so that she could see. Trying on each costume only to get rejected or laughed at each time had been frustrating, but it had also been fun.
I hate to admit it, but I kinda liked almost all of the reactions I got outta Artie, she mused as she continued to put clothes back into their bags. She picked up the white dress with yellow polka-dots and glanced at it. "Too bad. I would have liked to see you in a dress so cute that you couldn't reject it," she remembered Arthur saying. She felt her cheeks grow hot again.
Too bad this 'costume' is only for tonight, she thought, folding up the dress. I would have liked to see his reaction to this. Alfred/Amelia immediately slapped herself on the cheek for that thought. "What are you saying?" she scolded herself aloud. "One day as a girl is bad enough as it is." She set the dress in its bag, then packed away the rose-petal flapper-style dress and the red heels.
After curling her hair, she stood at the top of the stairs, ready to go down and literally show the world the new America. Her heart jumped to her throat, and she found herself heading for Arthur's room instead.
Alfred/Amelia knocked on the door and walked in without waiting for a response. She stopped as soon as she saw Arthur standing in front of his dresser. "Wow. Pirate . . . that looks . . . great," she said. He looks really sexy right now for some reason, she thought as she felt her cheeks get warm. Her legs suddenly felt like Jell-o. What the hell? Alfred/Amelia propped herself up on a small table by the door and looked down at her legs. It must be the shoes, she thought. I'm not used to walking in them yet. Yeah. That's why . . .
"Thank you," she heard Arthur say. "But how many times have I told you to wait for someone to say 'Enter' before entering? What if I'd been undressed?"
She looked up and laughed. "Big deal," Alfred/Amelia said. "You've been to swimming parties at my place all the time. Plus there was that time we all went to Kiku's favorite hot spring for his birthday. There was nothing left to the imagination that time."
The memory of that birthday party suddenly popped into her head. Just like everyone else, Arthur had worn nothing but a little towel around his waist, which had fallen off when he'd exited the water, showing off his derriere.
Alfred/Amelia had laughed at him then, but now, when she looked at Arthur, he suddenly wasn't wearing his pirate costume anymore. She saw him standing there in nothing but that damn towel. She felt her heart start pounding again, and her entire head felt like it was on fire. Think of Gil in a lime-green thong, she told herself. As soon as that image appeared in her head, she felt like vomiting. This image is even worse than the first one I thought up. Sorry Gil for using you like that.
"Why haven't you gone downstairs?" Arthur asked, pulling her out of her mental torture chamber. "I figured you would already be there by now, pigging out."
"Yeah, well . . . I thought I was ready to make my big entrance," Alfred/Amelia said, "but when the time came to go downstairs, I got nervous. I'm worried they'll laugh at me, or worse, not recognize me at all. Will you go down with me, Artie? I really will feel more comfortable if you come into the room with me."
"If you insist," he said. He rolled his eyes but immediately walked over to her, holding out his hand.
Alfred/Amelia gingerly reached out and grasped his hand. She felt herself squeal with delight internally when their hands made contact, but then stopped herself instantly. What's wrong with you? she scolded herself. Don't think about how nice your hand feels in his. You've held his hand lots of times when you were younger, and it was no big deal then. Why should it be any different now? Concentrate on something else!
Her hand started tingling, and the sensation traveled up her arm. Suddenly, she felt like she was having a hard time breathing and became preoccupied that her hand might start sweating any second. "Concentrate on walking: heel-toe, heel-toe, don't fall, heel-toe," she whispered to herself.
"What are you doing?" Arthur asked, his cheeks pink.
Crap! I got caught, she thought. I can't tell him I was freaking out because I was holding his hand. He'll think I'm weird. She giggled and stopped walking. "I'm reminding myself not to fall in these shoes. High heels make your legs look sexy, but they require a lot of balance," she half-fibbed. She smiled when she saw Arthur staring at the leg that was showing through the slit in the dress. Wait, why does that make me feel happy?
"Well, if you fall, I'm letting you go down on your own," he said, not looking away from her leg.
She felt her smile get a little bigger.
"No point in us both looking stupid," he continued.
"Jerk," she said, not really meaning it.
Arthur stuck his tongue out at her.
Is he being playful? What put him in such a good mood? she wondered, laughing at him.
When they reached the staircase, Alfred/Amelia tucked her props into her arm and clutched his arm to keep from falling. She noticed that Arthur was looking at the ceiling the whole time they descended the staircase. Weird. What's he looking at? she thought, looking up at the ceiling and pulling his arm closer so that she didn't fall.
She could hear that the party was already noisy when they arrived at the ballroom Arthur had decided to hold it in.
"Shall we?" Arthur said.
She nodded, still feeling nervous; her stomach felt queasy. Don't you dare reject that hot-dog from earlier, she scolded it. This is nothing compared to giving speeches or fighting in a battle. She and Arthur entered the room together.
The entire assembly fell silent as they stared at her.
Cool! They're all speechless, she thought. A new wave of nervousness mixed with nausea flowed over her as they continued to stare. Why does this feel the same as when I'm about to go swimming? Her stomach gurgled, and the hot-dog threatened. No, damn it! Stay down! she told it.
"I knew it!" Gilbert hollered, walking up to them. He was wearing a black hoodie that had ears or horns on the hood and a skull stitched on the right pocket, which he wore over a black-and-white striped shirt and jeans. A black tail curled around behind him. "You did have your girlfriend here." He grinned and nodded towards their hands.
Alfred/Amelia looked down. She hadn't even noticed that they were still holding hands. "I'm not his girlfriend," she said, releasing Arthur's hand. She felt her face grow hot with embarrassment.
Gilbert laughed and then leaned in. "How much do you cost per day then?" he said, leering at her.
What a pig! I never knew that Gil was such a pervert, Alfred/Amelia thought as she glared at him. I oughta punch him again.
Suddenly, a fist hit Gilbert in the face, and he went flying backwards, causing the other nations to step back. Several of them let out cries of surprise.
Alfred/Amelia looked at Arthur.
He stepped back and shook his right hand as if to shake off the pain. "I think I just found proof that you're head is full of rocks, Prussia," he said, closing the eye that wasn't under the "eye-patch" and wincing. He shook his hand again.
He hit him with everything he had, she marveled. I've been punched by Artie, but he never hit me with enough force to send me flying. Why did he—?
"Warum zur Hölle schlägst du mich?" Gilbert yelled, standing back up and cradling his jaw.
"Why do you think, you wanker?" Arthur said, glaring at him. "That was a nasty thing to say to any lady, and my honor as a gentleman demands that I defend damsels, even if that damsel happens to be this guy." He nodded towards Alfred/Amelia.
She felt the heat flow up into her face as she crimsoned. I'm a hero. I don't need protecting! she thought. So why does it feel good that he protected my honor just now? . . . That makes me feel so . . . girly. She wrestled over whether she liked that second feeling or not.
"Guy?" France asked, walking over to Alfred/Amelia. He was holding a lantern and wearing old-fashioned French clothes. A piece of cloth sat beautifully on his head. Alfred/Amelia could see that the only part of his outfit that looked out of place was the tattered shirt under his coat, but it was the final clue as to what he was dressed as for the party.
That is the most non-scary ghost I've ever seen, she thought, and I'm the one who should know if a ghost is terrifying or not.
"Surely you have used the wrong word. Your companion is definitely a woman." France said, winking at her.
Alfred/Amelia raised an eyebrow. Wha . . .? Is he trying to flirt with me? Somehow I don't feel flattered, she thought, especially since it wouldn't matter what sex I am to Ol' France here.
"I'm sure Gilbert deserved the punch, as usual," Austria said. He was dressed as a doctor. Alfred/Amelia noticed that he also was sporting a tail and devil horns and was carrying a funeral wreath.
Gilbert let out a sound of protest and rubbed his jaw.
"But you are also in the wrong here," Austria stated. "It is clear you've invited someone who is not part of our 'group' to the party. Anyone can see that."
Several nations nodded.
They don't recognize me at all! Alfred/Amelia thought, feeling floored by their reaction. Has my appearance really changed that much? She looked over at Matthew, who was standing in the corner dressed as Iron Man.
He rolled his eyes and gave her a crooked smile.
"Pfft. I told you they wouldn't get it, Artie," she said, laughing at her brother's expression. Mattie had told her earlier that the other nations might not recognize her, except for Arthur and maybe Kiku. "I shoulda went with one of the more obvious costumes."
"Vhat are you talking about, Fräulein?" Ludwig asked. He stroked his chin with a furry paw. Alfred/Amelia admired the fact that he went for "scary werewolf". It suited him a little too well; poor Germany could be scary even when he wasn't trying to be. Alfred/Amelia tried not to laugh when she saw Feliciano next to him. He was trying to match Ludwig except he looked like a puppy, even though she was sure he was also going for "scary werewolf".
Arthur sighed. "Take a good look at her before you assume she's not one of us," he said. "My companion's costume is linked to her identity."
Alfred/Amelia noticed Arthur smile slightly. He's having as much fun with this as I am, she thought, shocked that she didn't mind him joining her in the little game.
Gilbert looked her up and down. The group moved in a little closer. A few nations behind him started murmuring. Kiku laughed quietly, covering his mouth with his hand. Alfred/Amelia liked that he'd chosen to dress as a kistune. It fit his personality perfectly; Kiku was not always who he appeared to be and he also liked to play a joke or two every now and then.
"Artie, we should just tell them," Alfred/Amelia said, feeling nervous. "I don't think they get it. You'd think at least Francis would remember since it's thanks to him my costume's inspiration even exists."
Arthur held up his hand. "Give them a moment," he said.
She looked down at her costume to see if there was something wrong with it and realized she wasn't holding her props correctly. She fixed them so that they were in the correct hands.
"Zat outfit does look familiar, very familiar," France said. He opened his mouth to say something more, but stopped, his eyes growing wide as he realized what the costume was symbolizing. All that exited his mouth was a squeak.
"Pfft!" Alfred/Amelia heard Arthur let out small laugh. She bit her lip and tried not to laugh as well.
"I know what you're saying, Francis," Elizabeta said. "I feel like I've seen this 'look' somewhere before." She had dressed as a nurse, also with devil horns and a tail. She was carrying a shovel, which helped her to coordinate perfectly with Austria. She paced around Alfred/Amelia, giving her a once-over.
The door to the ballroom opened, and a non-nation dressed as a chef walked in and set down some snacks he was carrying on a tray.
Alfred/Amelia almost dropped her props when she saw him. Holy Hell's Kitchen Nightmares! That's Chef Gordon Ra—Rams—, she thought, her head reeling from fan-worship.
The chef turned and glanced at her. "Bloody brilliant Lady Liberty costume," he said, flashing a thumbs up. "Reminds me of my visits to New York. Even the shoes offer a wonderful interpretation of the real thing, yes?"
He noticed the shoes, and he knows why I broke the chains on them! Alfred/Amelia thought, excitement welling up in her chest. She hurried over to him, switched both props to her left hand and grasped his hand with her right. "Yes!" she said, enthusiastically shaking his hand. "You're awesome! I thought I was the only one who knew about that detail. By the way, I've watched every one of your shows. I love them! You rock!"
Chef Ramsay looked embarrassed. "Thank you, Madam. Now if you'll excuse me, my assistant and I need to bring in your dinners," he said, releasing her hand and walking out the way he came.
"I need to get his autograph," Alfred/Amelia said. "It's so awesome that he's here! He's like a cooking hero!"
Someone dropped a glass, and it shattered. This pulled Alfred/Amelia out of her hero-worship, and she noticed that everyone had the same expression as Francis (except for Feliciano, Antonio, and Gilbert who still looked confused). The noise from the glass broke the silence as well.
"Amérique?" France said finally.
"Yeah. Took you guys long enough, and you had to have help at that," she said, glancing at the assembled nations and smirking.
Suddenly the room was filled with noise. Alfred/Amelia had a hard time hearing what they were saying since they were all speaking in their own languages all at once. She could tell that they were all expressing differing levels of surprise and "What The Freak?", though.
When they finally quieted down, she walked over to the food, picked up a candied apple, and bit into it. She placed a hand on her hip. "Yeah. Artie used one of his spells for this costume. Pretty 'magical', huh?" she said, looking over at Arthur.
He face-palmed, and she felt embarrassed but couldn't figure out why. That was a funny pun, so why is Artie? she thought. Maybe he's getting a headache? "So are we going to start partying or not?" she asked.
"Vhat the hell?" Gilbert suddenly yelled. "First Hungary, now you, America? How on earth did you hide it all these years? Potztausend!"
All the nations turned to stare at Gilbert, and Ludwig mirrored Arthur.
"I didn't hide it! It's a costume, Gil, just for tonight," Alfred/Amelia said, getting slightly irritated, "It was a spell that Artie had made . . . uh . . . for me. I wanted a real shocker this year." She glanced over to Arthur. If he appreciated the fact that she'd hidden the fact that he'd originally made the spell for himself, he wasn't showing it on his face.
That explanation was enough for all the other nations; they decided to go back to conversing with each other.
"But it looks so real . . ." Gilbert stopped as if he was suddenly remembering something, and his face crimsoned.
Alfred/Amelia immediately realized what he was recalling and laughed. She wrapped her arm around his shoulder and started to guide him away from the other nations. "I know. That's because it is real. Artie's magic is pretty awesome, huh?" she said loud enough for the other nations to hear if they were eavesdropping. She grabbed Gilbert by the collar of the hoodie and pulled him down enough to put him in a head-lock.
He coughed lightly.
"Mention what happened this morning, and I'll make sure you regret it," she whispered, tightening her grip on his neck.
Gilbert struggled to breathe and tugged at her arm. Alfred/Amelia had no intention of following up on her threat, but she knew that he didn't know that.
Chef Ramsay and Sous Chef Scott wheeled in two carts loaded with full dinner plates and started placing them at the tables that were set up at one end of the room.
Alfred/Amelia immediately released Gilbert who gasped for breath and rubbed his neck.
"I'm sorry about what happened," he said, "but you need to learn to lock your doors from now on . . . You make a really hot voman by the vay." He smiled mischievously.
"So are you supposed to be some sort of demon?" she asked him, ignoring her friend's comment.
"I'm a black devil," Gilbert said, posing. "The main bad-ass of evil."
"I personally think you're doing it wrong," Austria said, walking up to the pair. "You should dress more like my devil; it's much more sophisticated."
Elizabeta walked up to them as well, her shovel propped over her shoulder. "Yeah, you should be more subtle like me and Roderich here," she said.
"So are you two here as a couple?" Alfred/Amelia asked.
"This is just a coincidence!" both nations stated, pointing at each other.
Gilbert scoffed. "And Ol' Fritz vas just an old man," he said.
Roderich and Elizabeta turned scarlet and looked at their shoes.
"You two should just confess about your relationship already," he continued. "Although, I don't understand vhat you like in drag queens, Roddy."
"Why you little . . ." Elizabeta said, raising her shovel above her head.
Gilbert dashed away, just barely dodging her swings.
"Ladies and Gentlemen, dinner is served," Chef Ramsay said, gesturing toward the tables. The nations all moved towards the tables as he turned to Arthur. "We'll return in about an hour to clean up. After that, we'll leave you to enjoy yourselves. My crew will come by tomorrow morning around 7:00 a.m. to clean up the rest."
"Excuse me, could I please, please, please have your autograph before you go?" Alfred/Amelia begged as she hurried up to where he and Arthur were standing.
Chef Ramsay looked embarrassed. "Certainly . . . um . . . I'll bring one of my photos made especially for that purpose." He turned to his assistant. "Scott, we have some in the van, don't we?"
"Yes Chef," Sous Chef Scott said.
"Can I have your autograph too?" Alfred/Amelia asked Sous Chef Scott.
Now it was his turn to look embarrassed. "Sure, if that's all right with the Chef," he said.
Chef Ramsay nodded. "I think we have some photographs of you in there too," he said. "We'll pre-sign it, just in case you are busy when we come back. Who should we write it for?"
"Al . . . Amel . . . Ameri . . . no . . .," Alfred/Amelia said, struggling to pick the best name to give them.
"Alamel Amerino?" Chef Ramsay. "That's an unusual name. That's the first time I think either of us has ever heard of one like that, yes?"
Sous Chef Scott nodded.
"No. That's not my name," she said. "Could you sign it to both Alfred and Amelia? My . . . um . . . brother's a fan too, but he couldn't be here."
The two nodded and then left.
"Well, that wasn't awkward," Arthur said, his voice dripping with sarcasm.
Alfred/Amelia felt her cheeks crimson as she turned around to look at him. "You gonna tease me about it all night?" she asked.
Arthur shook his head. He held out his arm to escort her. "I think I'll let it go with just that. Let's go eat, Miss Liberty," he said, smiling.
The other nations sitting at the table Arthur and Alfred/Amelia ended up at stared at her as she ate, Arthur included.
She set down her utensils and looked around. "I-I-is there something wrong?" she asked, nervously.
Yao pushed back the extra-long sleeves of his costume and shook his head, almost losing the charm hanging from the hat he was wearing.
No matter how much she racked her brain, Alfred/Amelia couldn't figure out what Yao's costume was supposed to be. Is he some sort of ghost, demon, vampire, or mystical creature from China? she wondered. Regardless, the red, purple-blue, and gold outfit looked elegant and regal on him.
"We've just never seen you eat like that, aru," Yao said.
"Is the way I'm eating that strange?" Alfred/Amelia asked, picking up the fork and knife again.
Russia nodded. "You're eating like a civilized person instead of just shoving it all in like a starving animal at a trough," he said.
Alfred/Amelia frowned. What are you implying, you jerk? she mentally said to him. "Mattie taught me how to eat like a girl," she stated, scowling at him. "Although I can't get the way you guys do it, so I'm keeping my fork in my right hand, and you'll all have to deal with it. By the way, Russia, that costume totally doesn't suit you."
Russia brought a paw up to his collar and then to the ears on top of his head. "Why do you say that?" he asked, looking confused. "The dormouse from Alice in Wonderland is a perfectly fine costume for any country, da? I was just trying to match my dear friend, Lithuania."
"No one asked you to," Toris said, trembling. He was dressed as the Mad Hatter. The purple, pinks and reds from the whole outfit somehow matched the ivory and gold in Russia's costume perfectly.
"Yeah, like, how did you even know that what we were going as?" Poland said. "You've totally ruined our theme." He glowered at Russia. He was dressed as Alice, and the frown didn't have any effect. It only made him look more adorable.
"I'm so sorry." Katyusha sobbed into her lamb. Ukraine's Little Bo Peep costume drooped along with her.
Feliks and Toris turned to look at her in disbelief.
She could use some lessons from me about keeping secrets from her brother, Alfred/Amelia mused. Although, maybe she can't lie to Russia.
"Brother, you could always change into the tuxedo I brought for you," Natalia suggested, pushing back her wedding veil to bite into her food.
Russia grimaced. "Th-Th-thank you, my dear sister, but I'm happy with my costume," he said as the color drained out of his face. "We should try to compete with that trio over there, da?" He pointed over to Sweden, Finland, and Sealand, who had dressed as Papa Bear, Mama Bear, and Baby Bear, respectively.
Finland was protesting to the group they were talking to that he'd "voted for something more manly, but this is what we drew out of the hat." He continued by saying that he had the bad luck of drawing the female role out as well.
Right on schedule, Chef Ramsay and Sous Chef Scott returned; they placed several dessert options on the snack table and started clearing the empty dinner plates.
Alfred/Amelia wasted no time in heading to the table for a dessert. The female nations immediately surrounded her and gave off an aura to the men of "Stay away". She picked up on this and felt nervous.
"We have a few questions for you," Belgium said. She was dressed as a gypsy. The plum and gold colors offset her hair wonderfully.
"C," Alfred/Amelia said matter-of-factually.
"What? You speak Spanish now?" Wy asked. "Is that part of the spell?" She swung the broom to her witch costume over her shoulder.
"No I'm a C-cup," Alfred/Amelia said. "Isn't that what you were about to ask me?"
"We don't want to know your bra size!" Seychelles scolded. "Did you share that just to rub it in?" She looked down at her chest; she was exposing what she had in her blue and green mermaid costume, and she still couldn't compete with Alfred/Amelia's almost completely covered-up body.
Liechtenstein, dressed in a cute, green-and-orange fairy princess costume, also looked down at her chest. She began to give off an aura of despair.
"That's what I figured you all would want to know. It's what I would have asked," Alfred/Amelia said, scratching her head. "Well, if not that, then what did you want to ask me?"
"So what's it like being a guy who's turned into a girl?" Elizabeta asked, licking her lips.
MeiMei nodded. She was dressed in what looked like a cross between a cherry-blossom fairy and a geisha. The mix of pink, red, and white flattered her dark hair and warm brown eyes.
She probably wore that to get Kiku's attention, Alfred/Amelia thought glancing over to where her friend was standing. Sure enough, Kiku was eating some cake and staring only at MeiMei.
"Never mind what she said. What I want to know is are you attracted to us girls still, or do you now have a yen for the guys?" MeiMei asked.
Elizabeta smacked her on the arm. "I told you we were going to work that part subtly into the conversation," she scolded her as MeiMei rubbed her arm. "Now she might not tell us."
Alfred/Amelia raised an eyebrow. "'Might not tell us' what?" she asked.
"Have you and Arthur made out yet?" MeiMei asked.
Elizabeta's mouth dropped open.
Natalia, Katyusha, Belgium, Seychelles, and Wy all blushed.
Alfred/Amelia mirrored them.
Liechtenstein looked confused.
MeiMei grinned and looked eager.
"Do you even understand what 'subtly' means?" Elizabeta asked her.
MeiMei shrugged. "I just think that we shouldn't beat around the bush," she said. "You want some new material, and we're all curious."
"What do you mean by 'made out'?" Liechtenstein asked. "What have they 'made out'?"
All the women turned to look at the innocent teen looking back at them.
"We'll tell you when you are a little older, hon," Elizabeta said.
"Why not share now?" Francis said from behind the group.
All of the women turned to look at him and glared. Somehow he'd managed to sneak up and eavesdrop on the whole conversation.
"This is 'girl time' right now," MeiMei said.
France wagged a finger at them. "Non, non. The answers to such questions I am curious about as well," he said, smiling broadly. "Besides, Liechtenstein needs to learn about zat part of life eventually, no?" France turned to the Liechtenstein and smiled. "Mon cher petit, to have 'made out' means to have kissed, among other things."
"Really? I never knew it had another meaning," Liechtenstein cried, clasping her hands together. "Big Brother never told me."
"Francis, I would stop there if I were you," Belgium said, "unless you want Vash on your bad side."
"I educated Feliciano about l'amour, and he turned out all right, did he not?" France protested.
The rest of the ladies groaned and turned back to Alfred/Amelia, ignoring the French pest.
Alfred/Amelia once again felt like trapped prey. She glanced at each of the women looking at her. None of them were wearing any makeup either, just like her. A few of them were wearing lip-gloss or lip-stain. "Wow. You're all natural beauties," she observed, remembering what the makeup ladies had said.
All of them blushed at this comment, and some touched their hands to their faces.
"Don't change the subject; answer the question," Elizabeta said.
"Which one? The one you asked or the two that MeiMei asked?" Alfred/Amelia asked.
"All of them," Natalia insisted, flashing a blade from who-knows-where.
Alfred/Amelia grabbed Natalia's wrist and easily snatched the knife out of her hands. "Natalia, that doesn't work on me, remember?" she said. "I don't give into threats, but I'll answer your questions anyway." She handed the knife to France, which made all the blood drain out of his face.
"I'm a lover, not a fighter; what am I supposed to do with zis?" he said quietly.
Alfred/Amelia ignored him. "Being a guy turned into a girl feels pretty much the same, except now I'm smaller in some places and bigger in others . . ." she hesitated for a moment and looked at Liechtenstein, "and I'm not going to say the rest because it's not appropriate to talk about whether I like guys or girls while children are present, and . . ." Alfred/Amelia glanced again at Liechtenstein.
The young teen's eyes were intense and sparkling.
"The last part is none of your business. Hey, look there's ice cream," Alfred/Amelia said quickly as she walked over to the snack table and grabbed a bowl of chocolate ice cream. She poured a generous helping of fudge topping on it, then some chocolate shavings, and finally a small sprinkling of sliced almonds. Mmm chocolate, she mused.
"I told you we shouldn't have pushed it," MeiMei said.
Elizabeta let out a sound of frustration. "You told me?" she shouted.
"So ze child is not nearby," Francis said as he walked up to where Alfred/Amelia was scarfing down her ice cream. "How about you answer zat second question? Which gender lights your fire? If it is males, may I be ze first to—how do you say it in ze States—take you out?"
Alfred/Amelia almost choked on her ice cream. "This costume is only for tonight, Francis," she stated. "Even if this was for longer, I'm not interested in you."
France raised an eyebrow and smiled. "Oh? Who said you needed to be 'interested' in me?" he said. "Is that a requirement for you to want to faire l'amour?"
Alfred/Amelia blushed slightly. How can he say such perverted and embarrassing things all the time and not feel ashamed of himself? she wondered. Stupid super-flirt France. "Maybe it's not a requirement for you, but I need to be interested in someone before I can do anything with them," she stated.
"So if not my sexy-self, who are you interested in zen?" Francis asked.
"That's none of your damn business," Arthur said, walking up to them and grabbing a dish of ice cream.
As soon as she looked at him, Alfred/Amelia felt the heat flow into her cheeks. Damn. He keeps looking sexier each time I look at him, she thought. She blinked. Wait . . . what in the . . .
"Stop pestering her, you bloody Frog," Arthur demanded.
"Are you implying there are other nations she'd rather spend time with?" France asked, facing off with Arthur.
"You called~?" Russia said, walking up to the trio. He grabbed some cake and dumped a bowlful of ice cream over it.
France and England turned to the larger nation completely flabbergasted.
He smiled at them and then turned to Alfred/Amelia. "You know, America, if you'd been like you are now, the Cold War would have been a lot more fun," he said, looking over the now-smaller rival nation. "You should stay like this; it will change how I'll treat you later when all becomes one with Russia."
Alfred/Amelia felt the shiver all the way down to her toes. "That statement was both weird and creepy as usual, Russia," she said. "I'll say it again: this costume is only for tonight, so back off. By the way, I'm definitely not interested in you either, so don't even ask, Commie."
With that comment, she walked away from the trio of nations. "This is totally not the reaction I expected from the male nations," she mumbled, fanning herself to get her cheeks to cool down. Well, actually, France's reaction didn't really surprise me, but the others . . . she thought.
"Hey everyone, let's play a trivia game to see how much ve know about each other," Gilbert announced. Several nations stared dumbfounded. It was unusual for him to suggest such a civilized game. "Everyone write down three trivia facts about yourself, your favorite drink and least favorite drink on these cards and then pass them back to me," he said, handing out index cards and pencils.
The group murmured slightly, but did as he asked.
"I just discovered England has quite the collection of alcohol," Gilbert continued.
"Bloody hell! Where were you snooping, you tosser?" Arthur said.
Gilbert ignored him. "The penalty for not answering the trivia correctly is that you have to drink a full glass of the drink you hate," he stated. "Answer correctly and your reward is that you get one sip of your favorite drink."
Several nations laughed.
"That's my money you're going to be using for that!" Arthur said.
"Do not overreact as usual, Angleterre," France said. "You are the host of zis party. Zis will make it more amusing for us."
"Any excuse to get drunk," Arthur said quietly.
Alfred/Amelia walked up to him and smacked him on the back. "Come one, Artie," she said. "I'm sure that we all know enough about each other that no one's going to get wasted."
Arthur didn't look convinced but smiled anyway.
Twenty minutes later, and many, many glasses of vodka, gin, whiskey, wine, rum, and several other types of alcohol later, more than half the group was a little more than tipsy. Sealand, Seychelles, and Liechtenstein were the only ones completely sober since none of them drank alcohol, and therefore, listed drinks that were non-alcoholic.
Alfred/Amelia was also not as tipsy as some of the others because she'd listed her least favorite drink as "tea" and her most favorite as "coffee". The other nations had forced her to change her choices, so she picked wine as her least favorite and beer as a favorite (it was her policy never to get drunk around this bunch).
"I can't believe I didn't know thata Lovino knew how to carve statues," Spain said as he downed his 5th glass of absinthe. He slumped down in his chair and giggled. Spain had decided to dress as a mummy, and the wrapping was starting to come off; from what was already exposed, it didn't look like he was wearing much underneath.
Arthur looked slightly panicked.
Spain would pick the one of the strongest alcohol drinks out there as his least favorite*, Alfred/Amelia thought, feeling amused at the situation. He's more a wine and sangria kinda guy.
"Kesesese, you're totally vaaaaysted man," Gilbert said, barely able to stand up himself.
France was hanging on his shoulders and nodded. He'd also already had way too much vodka and wine.
"Perhaps we should change games," Arthur said, his face pink from too much vodka and whiskey. "I think we've all already had too much to drink. Anyone have any ideas?"
"You know what?" Spain said, splashing his drink and walking up to him. "I've beena meaning to shay this all night. Whatsa with thata costume of yours?"
"I beg your pardon?" Arthur asked, backing up slightly.
"I've got an idea," Elizabeta said. "I found this in that closet over there." She displayed a fancy-looking karaoke machine.
"I love karaoke; let's do that," Alfred/Amelia said.
The men ignored them.
"You're trying to rub in the fact thata you bullied me all those years ago," Spain continued. "Didn't you useta wear thata all the time back then?"
"I sot so too, mon ami," France said, walking over to the pair. "What were you trying to imply by wearing that?"
Elizabeta looked back and forth between the two nations and Arthur.
"What's taking so long, Elizabeta?" Alfred/Amelia asked. Spain needs to take a chill pill; that's ancient history, she thought. I wouldn't have reacted that way even if Artie had worn his old military uniform from the 1700s . . . Actually, that would have been kinda hot . . . wait . . . I did not just think that.
"I'll just go plug it in and get it set up," Elizabeta said. She walked over to an outlet.
"You're over-reacting Spain," Arthur said. "This outfit is one of my favorites, and it looks good on me. Those are the only reasons I wore it."
"That's funny; it doesn't seem to fit right," Elizabeta said, trying to force the plug into the outlet.
"Here let me help," Alfred/Amelia said, grabbing the plug. She shoved it into the outlet as hard as she could.
"What are you two ladies talking ab—? Not that outlet!" Arthur called to them too late.
Sparks flew out of the outlet and both ladies jumped back. The entire room went completely black.
"Ve~ I'm scared, Ludwig!"
"Stop grabbing me there, Feli!"
"Seychelles, chère où vous êtes? Je vous protégerai."
"Like, how dare you! Don't touch me!"
"Does anyone have a torch?"
"I do!" Alfred/Amelia flipped on the flashlight.
Arthur was standing right in its beam, and it put an almost ghostly look to his costume.
Spain was merely inches from where Arthur was. "¡Salvame Lovino! ¡Él ha vuelto para terminarme!" he screamed, spilling his drink everywhere and pushing Arthur away from him.
Arthur lost his balance and crashed into the snack table.
Spain clung to Romano in an effort to get away from his apparent "nightmare-who-had-returned".
"Get offa me you, tomato-chomping oaf!" Romano said, smacking Spain on the head. "You're pulling off my wrapping!" He'd also dressed as a mummy and had already protested several times that it wasn't to match Spain. No one believed him (of course).
"America, give me that," Germany said, taking the flashlight from her. "England, vhere is your fuse box?"
"Down the hall on the left," Arthur said, getting up from the table.
Germany walked out of the ballroom, and within a minute, the lights came back on.
"Artie, you're a mess," Alfred/Amelia pointed out.
Arthur looked down at his costume. It was covered in a variety of sweets and other foods and smelled like absinthe. "Bollocks," he said. "I'll have to send this to the cleaners now. You're footing the bill, by the way, Spain."
Spain let out a sound of protest but nothing more.
"Like, let go of me, you pervert!" Poland said, smacking France on the head for what looked like the third time.
France stopped groping him when he saw who he was holding on to. "Qu'est-ce qui est cela? You are not Seychelles," Francis said.
Seychelles, who looked like she was about to cry, peeked out from behind Hungary, who had managed to pull out her frying-pan for self-defense.
"Okay, that's enough of that," Elizabeta said. "We're doing the karaoke without any alcohol. Everyone sober up a little!" She pointed to the coffee and tea dispensers on a table next to the messed-up snack table.
"Elizabeta, use the outlet on the north end; you can also use the orchestra loft for a stage," Arthur said, brushing cake off of his sleeve. "The outlet you used before is an older one that I haven't replaced yet."
Elizabeta nodded and carried the machine over to where Arthur had indicated.
Arthur headed for the door.
"Where are you going?" Alfred/Amelia asked.
"I'm going to go change into another costume," he said.
"You have more than one costume?" she asked. How many costumes did he prepare?
"Well, the one I'm going to change into was my next choice," he explained. "This pirate costume was more unique than it was."
"This one was the most unique," Alfred/Amelia said quietly, pointing at her body. "Sorry for stealing it from you."
Arthur went a little pale and nodded.
That's an odd reaction, she thought.
"It's all right," he said. "It looks better on you anyway." Arthur hurried out of the ballroom.
Alfred/Amelia felt her face grow hot as the blood flowed once again into her cheeks. Dammit! Stop reacting like that! she scolded herself. Suddenly, she felt a craving for that coffee of Arthur's. Guess no one will miss me if I slip up there for a minute and drink some. Maybe it'll sober me up a little.
"Okay everyone, every nation's name is in this hat twice," Elizabeta was saying as Alfred/Amelia sneaked out the door. "If any of you draw each other's names out, then you have to sing a duet together." Groans mixed with laughter echoed the ballroom as Alfred/Amelia hurried up the stairs.
She noticed that she had about one cupful left and made a mental note that she needed to ask Arthur to make some more for her. It still tasted just as weird as before, but for some reason, she liked it enough to drink it even when it was cold.
I wonder if Artie's ready to go, she thought as she wiped her mouth and headed for his room. I'm gonna need his help to get down the stairs again. She opened the door without bothering to knock. "Artie, are you ready to go—?" she said as she looked for him.
"Close the door, you git!" Arthur hollered, half-dressed in a police officer uniform. All he had on were his pants and the police cap. His arms were barely through the armholes of his white shirt, leaving his chest completely bare; he hadn't even put on the navy-blue jacket/tunic or black tie and gloves yet.
Alfred/Amelia stared at him and suddenly couldn't remember how to breathe.
"How many times have I told you to knock and wait for an answer?" Arthur yelled, quickly pulling on his shirt. His face turned a bright crimson.
"Holy—! I'm sorry, Artie!" Alfred/Amelia screamed, turning around and slamming the door behind her. The image of Arthur's bare skin sparkled in her memory. In her mind's eye, Arthur was removing his clothing, not putting it on. Her whole face felt like a volcano, and her heart started pounding in her ears.
Alfred/Amelia felt something warm trickle from her nose, and she wiped whatever it was away and looked down at her hand. What the hell? Why am I getting a bloody nose? she thought, clapping a hand to her nose and running to her room, not caring if she sprained her ankle.
When she finally got the bleeding to stop, she checked herself out in the mirror to make sure she looked okay. "Ah crap," she said as she saw a couple red drops on the bodice of her dress.
Alfred/Amelia searched on her cell phone on how to handle this situation. She found some cleaning directions and stripped off the dress to soak it in cold water. Then she put the emerald tiara away in the jewelry box it came in. The blood hadn't stained her underwear, but she changed it anyway to match the new costume she'd decided to wear.
Alfred/Amelia took one last look in the mirror to make sure everything looked right before walking down the hallway to Arthur's room. This time, she knocked and waited for his answer.
"Yes?" Arthur said as he opened the door. He stared at her. "Al . . . Amelia, why did you change?"
"They're going to be doing karaoke next, and I can't move around very well in that other costume, so if I want to dance while I sing . . ." she lied. Alfred/Amelia danced some steps that she remembered from a 1920s dance. The rose-petal fringe on the flapper-style dress fluttered and shook beautifully. She whirled around, and the knee-length skirt raised slightly, flashing some thigh.
"You don't need to dance that enthusiastically," Arthur said, crimsoning and reaching out to stop her from moving. She grabbed his hand and pulled him into her dance, humming a popular jazz tune. To her surprise, Arthur started humming it too, grabbed her around the waist, and fell into step with her easily.
As they reached the end of the song, Arthur twirled her around a few times and lowered her down into a low dip. Alfred/Amelia felt her heart skip a beat; ever since she was a teenager, she'd always been slightly taller than him, so that maneuver would have been almost impossible any other time. They both stayed that way for a moment until they made eye contact. Arthur brought her back up to a standing position and released her. He straightened his clothes and cleared his throat, his cheeks slightly pink.
"This costume's okay, right? You said you liked it," Alfred/Amelia said as she looked at him, her cheeks feeling a little warm.
Arthur smiled, and it made her nervous. "I thought you were rejecting that one because you didn't want to wear my national flower," he said.
"Well, now that everyone knows who I am, they'll know that this symbolizes my rose." She smirked and folded her arms.
"Well then, I take it the reason you're back here is because you need help down the stairs in those shoes," Arthur said, pointing at the red heels.
"Nah, I can handle it," she said. "After all, if I can dance in them—"
"Suit yourself," Arthur said as he finished straightening his tie. He strode past her quickly.
"Artie, wait!" Alfred/Amelia called, stumbling a little as she tried to run after him. "I lied. Please help me?"
Arthur stopped and held out his gloved hand. "Come on, silly idiot," he said, laughing.
A/N
Thank you for indulging me and allowing me to show you what went through America's mind last chapter and this chapter. I hope it was as fun for you to read as it was for me to write it ^_^ Karaoke singing coming up!
Police officer was a close runner-up winner in the poll for Arthur's costume, so I decided to use it (it was my personal favorite costume). Also, it appears that Alfred/Amelia is the winner for the name America is going to go by (I'll close the poll now since it hasn't changed in over a week).
I know many of you have probably seen them already, but I've put links in my profile to pics of the wonderful illustrations Himaruya did for Halloween this year, which I based my costume descriptions on (I'm also including some fan-art that I based Arthur's costumes on . . . I can't find any images of Alfred/Amelia's costumes, not the Lady Liberty or rose-petal flapper-style dress . . . T_T you'll have to use your imagination folks).
*Absinthe is an alcoholic spirit famous for its beautiful green color (I learned this from a friend). Since I've never drank it, I did some research about it: It is also famous for having a very high alcohol content: 50–75% Alcohol By Volume (ABV), making it 100 to 150 proof. Whiskey's standard 40% ABV (80 proof) is like child's play by comparison. The high ABV is why absinthe is usually served diluted (3-5 parts water to 1 part absinthe). A popular drink choice for writers and artists around the late 19th century, absinthe earned the nickname "Green Fairy" b/c some claimed to have experienced hallucinations after drinking it. Research today has proven that this claim was actually an exaggeration (creative people taking creative license).
Translations:
"Alakazam" is one of the most mysterious of the magic words; it expresses something unobservable. It describes a contradiction or a paradox, which makes it appropriate for slight-of-hand and illusions demonstrating the impossible. A magician will say "nothing is up my sleeve" as a way to distract you from what they are really doing-it's part of the trick. Both Arthur and Amelia did a little fibbing and distraction in this chapter, so I felt it was an appropriate title.
(~_^) = ;) {this is the East Asian way of doing a winking emoticon, just in case you didn't know}
Warum zur Hölle schlägst du mich? = Why in the hell did you hit me?
Potztausend! = Damn!
Mon cher petit = my dear little one
l'amour = love (of course :P . . . this is France we're talking about, after all)
faire l'amour = make love (France is sooo. . . .aauuhhgg; it's so embarrassing to translate his words =_=).
Angleterre = England
Seychelles, chère où vous êtes? Je vous protégerai = Seychelles, dear where are you? I'll protect you.
torch (British English) = flashlight (American English)
¡Salvame Lovino! ¡Él ha vuelto para terminarme! = Save me Lovino! He's returned to finish me off!
Qu'est-ce qui est cela? = What is this?